“Do you smell that?” asked Tempest, looking out to the ocean from a palace balcony.

“Smell what?” answered Streaming Breeze, sniffing at the air. “I mean, besides the usual?” The usual being each other, the humans, and their city, of course. Tempest was used to former two, the latter-most was something she had grown accustomed to.

“There's something in the air.” Tempest said. “It's not quite so stifling, or so hot...”

“I don't smell anything like that, my Queen.”

“Well, it's there. Summer is nearing its end.” And it couldn't end sooner... “What I wouldn't give for a bit of rain!”

“It rains all the time back home.” Streaming said. “Even in the height of summer, unlike Athair. You'll like it.”

“Every memory I have of home has rain in it.” That was one good thing about returning to Highcrest. Rain, rain, rain, she thought. She would rather have a month of rain than a single day more of this Ar-Athazîon heat.

“It will be good to go back, after almost eleven years.” Streaming nodded to herself, a slight smile on her face. “But, my Queen, there's been something bothering me lately.”

“What is it?”

“You haven't mentioned the outcome of your talk with Hemlock Farpeak.” the red mare said. “Forgive my boldness, but I was hoping to know what she told you.”

“What she told me...” Tempest held her tongue, scowling as she recalled what Hemlock had revealed. There was evil in this world, and some of it was much closer to home than any shadow spirit or wraith. “What she told me convinced me to have Silver Farpeak killed at the first moment I get.”

“Lord of Heaven.” sighed Streaming. “Was it really that bad?”

“You don't know the half of it. How any pony could be so cruel...” Tempest grit her teeth, and flicked her tail.

“I knew the rumors...”

“The worst part was, Hemlock said she had to take part in it or else it'd be worse!”

Streaming grimaced. “Lady Snowy still won't see her?”

“I don't think so.” Tempest let her gaze wander off. “I... I haven't told her I've talked to Hemlock, either.”

Again, Streaming sighed, this time with more exasperation. “My Queen, would it be too much to ask for you both to act like adults here? Lady Snowy is nineteen, she ought to stop holding onto childhood grudges and think about it from Hemlock's perspective. You know, my Queen, my brother and I hated each other for years, but we got over it, and we talked it out. And you ought to tell her what you know! If Lady Snowy would listen to anyone on Earth, it would be you.”

“I know, I know...” Tempest muttered. “But... This is a lot more than a childhood rivalry!”

“Be that as it may, Lady Snowy and Hemlock are a thousand miles from home and ten years older. Talk to her, my Queen. If not for her sake, or yours, then for mine.” ordered Streaming, putting a hoof down pointedly. “I've about had it with you two being so moody lately.”

Who's moody? thought Tempest, narrowing her eyes.

Lately, Snowy had not been talking much. The Emperor often kept her in his company, trading her off to his wife when he had formal business to attend to. Tempest had asked Îrilôs what exactly they were teaching her, a few days ago. “Dear Tempest,” the Emperor had said, “it's quite obvious to me you have not been prepared to rule, only to fight. But kingdoms need rulers as much as they need fighters.”

“Then why aren't you teaching me how to rule?” Tempest asked, scowling up at him.

“You do not have a... hmm, diplomatic personality, Tempest. Our efforts would be wasted on you; that's the honest truth of it. But there is no shame in listening to the advice of those wiser than you. Since we intend to place you in power in Highcrest, it is in our interests to have you well-equipped to rule, rather than blunder about and alienate your subjects.” Îrilôs did have a point about that. Even Tempest was aware of her shortcomings in the field of personal relations. Though she usually forgot about them at the most inopportune of times...

She fell asleep that night trying to figure out how she'd convince Snowy to take a break from her busy days and deal with the Hemlock question. Her last waking thoughts were of how cool the air coming in from outside was.

Tempest found herself in a world of washed-out colors, littered with empty towers and crumbling bridges that led to nowhere. Cautiously, she crossed one of the derelict spans; her heart missed a beat when the stone beneath her forelegs cracked and fell away. She looked into the hole in the bridge, into a grey fog below. No sound came of falling pieces landing... For all she knew, they would fall forever in this place.

Ahead was another of the towers, looking as if it was only a matter of moments from collapsing. It reached down into the fog, and reached up into the sky, where it vanished into the blank, overcast sky. Tempest quickly trotted across the remainder of the bridge, and stepped inside. Stairs spiraling up, stairs spiraling down. And there were doors. Each one wiggled on its hinges when she bit on the latch and pulled or pushed, but she could open none of them. For a moment, Tempest wondered why there would be doors on the inside of the tower; there simply wasn't enough space for them to go anywhere. One would just step into the nothing and fall... Down into that strange fog.

Something about that fog below unnerved her, so she took the stairs spiraling upwards, and emerged at the foot of another bridge to another tower. Some of the bridges reaching out were broken in the middle, or simply led to nowhere but empty air. Tempest continued on, not sure where she was going or why.

Occasionally, she could hear voices in the distance; soft and silent whispers that stopped as soon as she tried to listen to them. She caught a hint of movement in the corner of her eye, but there was nothing when she turned to it. The air grew cold and clammy; the fog rose up, and the clouds came down, until all was veiled in a misty twilight. Silence crushed in. Tempest wished someone was here with her. She went to open one of the looming doors on the inside of a tower, but just as she was about to touch it, there came a terrible jolt from the other side, as if something had slammed against it. A squeak of fright escaped her. Now she really wished someone else was here...

And when she backed into something living, she shrieked outright. Tempest whirled around and saw... A pony? It was a unicorn, midnight blue and tall, in a dark cloak.

“Forgive us for Our intrusion,” the unicorn said, “but your are not the one We sought.”

“W-what?” stammered Tempest, backing away from the strange mare. Something felt wrong here... This didn't feel real. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“You are in a dream, subject.” the unicorn spoke imperiously. A dream? Tempest wondered. Was she dreaming? Was this a dream? “However, it is not your dream...”

“I- I don't understand. This is a dream?”

“Aye, and not your own. Someone else nearby has a very strong mind. You have been caught up in their dream, much as a fish can be caught in a kelp net.” she said, looking about the crumbling towers and bridges.

“If I'm dreaming, why can't I wake up?” asked Tempest. “And who are you?”

“We meant to ask you the same thing. Why would a pegasus live in the palace of the Emperor of Sarathûl?” The unicorn raised an eyebrow at her.

“If you answer my questions, I'll answer yours.” said Tempest, her suspicion beginning to grow.

“Very well.”

“My name is Tempest. I'm living in the Emperor's palace because he is hosting my guardian. This place is definitely not the palace, though...” she explained. The more she thought about it, the more she realized this was probably a dream. She didn't know of any place on Earth that looked like this.

“Ah...” A look of realization came upon the unicorn, and she became more alert. “That would explain it, wouldn't it? Tempest Blackwind, you can wake up, but only when you fully accept this is a dream.”

“How do you know my full name?” Tempest asked. Now she was really suspicious.

“There is only one Tempest in the world that would be the Emperor's guest. We are most intrigued to have met you. We have no need to introduce Ourselves, for you know Our name.” The unicorn tossed off her cloak, it evaporated into mist; and a pair of wings were revealed. Alicorn! And just as there was only one Tempest who would be in Ar-Athazîon, there was only one alicorn who could enter dreams like this:

“Luna!” gasped Tempest, her former fear returning tenfold. This was a dream, and Celestia's sister was now in it! She had to get out of here!

Her eyes shot open, and she was once again in the waking world, shaking and trembling. Princess Luna had entered her mind! They'd found her at last! If Luna could enter dreams, what else could she do in them? Could Celestia do it too? Tempest wondered. Are they going to be waiting for me next time I sleep? What will they do if they catch me? Can I be killed in a dream? Are they going to kill me? The more she thought about it, the more she was frightened.

Tempest rolled out of bed, went through the washroom, and knocked on Snowy's door. “Wake up, Snowy!” she hissed. Sure enough, Snowy appeared, blinking confusedly.

“What is it, Tempest?” she asked.

“I've been attacked!”

“What?!” Snowy's eyes shot wide open, and her ears pricked fully forward.

“It was Luna, she appeared to me in a dream!” said Tempest, looking back into her own room. “They've found me, Snowy!”

“Lord of Heaven...” whispered Snowy, as she pulled Tempest through the doorway. “Princess Luna? In your dream? Are you sure it was her?”

“I'm certain. And it wasn't my dream, she said.” Tempest sat down at the foot of Snowy's bed, staring at her hooves. “She said there was a powerful mind nearby and I was caught up in its dream. Then she asked who I was, and I told her, and she revealed herself.”

“You revealed who you were to a total stranger inside your mind?” Snowy asked, incredulous.

“No! Well... The more I think about it, the more certain I am that she knew who I was before I was even aware of her.” said Tempest, more trying to convince herself than Snowy of that. Why can't I ever think before I say anything? she chided herself.

“Was that all?”

“Yes... I woke myself up after.”

“You mean she let you go? Princess Luna can supposedly control dreams, just like her father... Why would she let you escape her grasp?” Snowy mused, looking at the ceiling and scrunching her brow.

“...Maybe?” Tempest wasn't really sure. She'd woken up so quickly that the alicorn intruder hadn't even been able to do anything. But Snowy raised an interesting point: if this Luna controlled dreams, then how was Tempest able to remove herself? Wouldn't Luna want her to stay, so that her mind could be read, and all her plans laid bare?

“If the Princess did let you go, then I really have to wonder if she means you any harm at all, Tempest.” Snowy said.

“But- But- It's Celestia's sister!” protested Tempest, waving a hoof about. “Celestia wants me dead, she has for ten years! Why not Luna too?”

“Just because she's Celestia's sister doesn't mean she's the same in spirit and mind.” Snowy stated, giving her a very flat look. I could say the same about you and Hemlock, Tempest nearly said. She was supposed to talk to Snowy about that...

“So what do I do if she comes back tomorrow night? Or even this night?” asked Tempest.

“I don't know.” Snowy said, uncertainty on her face. “You'll have to face her, I guess.”

“Face her? With what? I'm a pegasus, not an alicorn, I don't have an ounce of magic in me! And I'm not even that good of a fighter!”

“You could ask Sidâl for help...” suggested Snowy, though her expression betrayed her thoughts at that.

“Hah, right. After he tricked us into getting caught up in his schemes with the Benefactor... I don't trust him.”

“He's a sorcerer, we shouldn't trust him to begin with.” Snowy stated. Tempest nodded with her, recalling the array of legends the humans had about the magic-users among them. The sorcerer was always evil... Sidâl was out of the question.

“Well, I suppose I should get back to sleep.” she said. “Do you mind if I keep these doors open, Snowy? Just in case Luna comes back...”

“Not at all.”

But Tempest couldn't fall asleep again, when she returned to her room. She must have stared up at the ceiling for an hour before she got up again, this time going out into the hall. Tempest didn't know exactly where she was going, but it was better than doing nothing. Eventually, Tempest found herself in the gardens, where she spent most of her days anyway. The world was pleasantly quiet at night, and thankfully, cooler too. She rolled over onto her back, and looked at the clear sky.

For once, her mind went quiet. Perhaps the Lord of Heaven was granting her some peace after the encounter with the alicorn. The stars wheeled around overhead, and eventually a dim light grew in the east. Tempest got up before anyone stumbled upon her sprawled on the grass like a drunkard. The two ponies in the dungeon said they had been with Princess Luna... I wonder what they know about her?

That was how Tempest founder herself in the dungeon, facing Hemlock Farpeak and Goldleaf the unicorn; both in separate cells, but close enough together that she could face both of them at the same time. “Tell me about Luna.” she said. “Why did she enter my dream?”

“What?” asked Hemlock, feigning surprise so badly that even Tempest could see through it. Goldleaf smirked, but said nothing when faced with Tempest's scowl. Luna was busy, she deduced.

“She intruded on my dream, and talked to me. I want to know what she was doing in my head. You were her courtiers, right? You know her better than anyone else around here.” said Tempest.

“Perhaps she wished to talk to us, but found you instead.” Hemlock said, still trying to play the ruse.

“I know she talked to you too.” Tempest asked. The other two ponies glanced at each other through the bars of their cells.

“Yes.” admitted Hemlock.

“And?”

“And what?” Hemlock asked back.

“Watch your tone.” Tempest warned her, raising a hoof. “What did she want?”

“If you really must know, Queen Tempest,” Goldleaf sighed, “Princess Luna missed our company and wanted to make sure we were alive and well.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to pick up on any hint of a lie. Either Goldleaf was a far better liar than Snowy's sister, or he was being honest, as far as Tempest could tell.

“I don't like the idea of an alicorn princess having total knowledge of my, and your, whereabouts, and the ability to come harass me whenever I'm asleep. Tell Luna if she comes to any dreams again, mine or yours, you two will face the consequences.” Tempest really hoped she got the threatening tone down right.

“We'll let her know.” Hemlock said, but her unicorn commoner disagreed.

“Queen Tempest, I feel that's unnecessarily cruel.” Goldleaf protested. “Princess Luna is lonely at home, she just wants to see the only real friends she has. We'll tell her not to visit any dreams, but could you at least allow for her to see us?”

Luna, an alicorn princess, lonely? Tempest found that notion surprising. The idea of a lonely alicorn seemed strange to her. How could such a powerful creature feel such a weak emotion as loneliness? Loneliness was for small ponies like Tempest, not for great beings like Luna. But if it was so... “Very well...” she conceded. “Luna can talk to you two, but if she comes back to torment me, or Snowy, or Streaming Breeze, or any human in this city for that matter, especially King Aharôs, you two will pay for it! Is that understood?”

“Of course.” agreed Goldleaf, with a slight bow. “Thank you for being reasonable, my Queen.”

“Hmmph.” snorted Tempest, turning away and going back to the surface.

Tempest, as usual, spent most of her day with the Empress. She rather liked that woman's company; it was interesting to get to know about the other half of the human race they kept so hidden. “Sometimes I wonder if my life would be simpler if I was a human girl.” said Tempest, after a moment of quiet.

“Oh, no doubt.” agreed Empress Alaia. “No one would expect you to fight, or to rule, or to do anything, really, except produce an heir. And if you're highborn, you don't even have to run a household. But is that a life you want?”

“I don't know...” The idea of having a child scared her more than she liked to admit. It was something she avoided thinking about as much as she could. “Would you want to be an Equestrian?”

Alaia looked into space, smiling to herself. “There was a time when I wanted to be a sorceress. Not like Lord Ezarethîz, or even that Sidâl, but like one of the alicorns who fought the Great Enemy's servants. Doing something good for the world with my powers. But what magic we weren't born with, we must take. And only people who are willing to go that far are men like Sidâl and Ezarethîz.”

Another week passed, and September turned into October. October 2nd had been a special day back at Nikadîon, for it was the birthday of then-Prince Aharôs. Now-King Aharôs had another birthday upon him, and without any of the comforts of dreary Nikadîon. Being the good ward she was, Tempest went to see him in the evening.

“Thirty-eight years.” Aharôs told her, walking back and forth about his gloomy chamber. “Thirty-eight years...”

“You don't look thirty-eight.” said Tempest, sitting on a chair. It wasn't a lie, Aharôs really didn't look thirty-eight. He looked forty-eight instead.

“Hah.” He didn't look amused. “I'm supposed to go to the cathedral and pay my respects to the Lord.”

“Are you?” Tempest asked.

“I'll go.” stated Aharôs, folding his hands behind his back. “Would you like to come?”

“Uh... Why not?” Her mind drifted back to when Aharôs had said she was the only thing close to family he had left. It would be cruel to say no, right? “Snowy would like to come along, I bet.”

“I'm sure she would.” Aharôs said coolly. “But she's quite busy at the moment.”

“Oh...” That would make things a bit more uncomfortable.

One of the Emperor's carriages took them to the cathedral late in the night, when no one else was awake. Tempest guessed they did it this late because of her. The common folk were not used to the presence of Equestrian, and most non-humans were not allowed beyond the wharves or the foreign quarter.

She'd seen the cathedral from afar, almost every day when she went up the walls surrounding the palace and looked west. The Cathedral of Saint Aikâlon, they called it; an eight-winged structure mimicking their eight-rayed star, with a massive dome capping the central hub. It was tall enough to be seen from outside the city past a certain distance; probably four hundred feet high or so by Tempest's reckoning.

But at night, she couldn't see a thing, aside from the dim street lanterns that lined the road. Probably for the best, Tempest thought, I don't want to scare anyone. Too much talk of alicorn aggression, lately. If she was lucky, there'd be no one else in the cathedral at this hour... Tempest didn't know herself to be lucky. But Aharôs was even unluckier, so perhaps two negatives would make a positive? Snowy had said something like that once, but Tempest didn't know herself to be good at mathematics either.

The carriage stopped at one of the wings of the great cathedral, the one facing directly east. The entire square was empty this late at night, and the only lights were the occasional street lantern, and the candles and braziers that were within the cathedral itself, lighting its windows with a warm glow. Yellow sandstone bricks made up the majority of the structure, and stormy blue tiles plated the central dome, and the eight smaller domes in the middles of the wings. Of course, little of that was visible in the dark, Tempest had just seen it many times in the distance by daylight.

“Come along, Tempest.” Aharôs said, waving her to follow. The Emperor's retainers stayed outside with the carriage; they wouldn't need escort inside a hallowed place. I wonder if the humans would dare to hurt even an Equestrian in a church? she thought.

Inside was a cavern of shadows, stretching up to the ceiling where the moonlight came through the ring of windows under the wing's dome. Below the shadows were the lanterns and candles; the two lights mingled together in the darkness. Tempest had never seen anything quite like it. It was as if she had walked into some heavenly vault; the ceiling was so far above her that she wasn't sure if she could see it or not. “I didn't know it was possible to make buildings this big.” she whispered, not quite sure where her voice had gone.

“They spent a century on it.” Aharôs told her.

Between the tall windows, massive frescoes decorated the walls. Tempest could only assume they were of scenes from the holy book of the humans, but she knew next to nothing of any of that. They walked through the great chamber, and Tempest did see a few images that tugged at her memory. As impressed as she was, the wing was nothing compared to the central vault.

Words could not do justice to what it felt like to stand beneath a dome four hundred feet above her, in a hall that must have been the size of Vatherîon's entire citadel. Her head spun just from staring up, and she beheld the greatest fresco yet:

On the north side, the story began. Three comets flew through the night, and the humans pointed up at them in fear. Tempest had a good enough idea of their mythology to figure out the proper order of the scenes. After the comets came ragged men offering their swords to what looked like an alicorn, who glowed like the sun. Then stood a towering figure, stepping out of a pillar of fire, wreathed in shadow; his two burning eyes glaring out from behind a faceless mask. Vahâdrîn, Tempest recognized. Following him came his Alûthrîl, the Accursed, his wicked servants and soldiers. They did battle first against the alicorns, and then against men. On the south face of the great hall, Vahâdrîn and his Alûthrîl faced down a figure that could only be Aikâlon. And as the scenes went on... Aikâlon was defeated.

Tempest blinked, not sure if her eyes had deceived her, or if the dim fire-light of the cathedral interior was obscuring something in the fresco. But there was no such confusion, Aikâlon was struck down by Vahâdrîn. “I don't get it.” she said to Aharôs. He followed her gaze up.

King Aikâlon, in his silver mail, lay wounded on the ground, where he had been laid low in the previous fresco. In front of him stood a dark figure, twice as tall, wielding a cruel mace rippling with terrible and arcane energy; Vahâdrîn again. A legion of masked phantoms stood behind him, their eyes shining violet flames in the shadow. And between the two sides, facing against the darkness, stood a small man holding a sword, hopelessly outmatched.

“Who is he?” Tempest asked. She tilted her head, trying to figure out what that lone sword-bearer could achieve.

“That,” sighed Aharôs, sneering in distaste, “is Zefîr. Our greatest hero.”

“You don't sound too enthused.”

“Why should I be?” Aharôs glared at the fresco. “The priests always spoke highly about Zefîr. A common man, of simple desires and no lofty deeds. He was caught up in the sudden battle, when Vahâdrîn came upon our ancestors' first city. Zefîr saw his King struck down before him, and all hope seemed lost. The armies of man fled, but Zefîr took up arms. There was no hope for his victory, there was no hope for his survival, and there was not even a chance he could strike a single blow against the Great Enemy. But he held his ground. He stood. And he died.”

“Then how is he a hero if he got himself killed?” Tempest asked.

Aharôs kept up his sneer. “I'll be damned if I know anymore. Zefîr and Aikâlon were lucky, that was it. Our entire existence is owed to the brief distraction of the foe. There's nothing heroic about it! How many common rabble have I cut down in the same situation? None of them every got lucky enough to kill the tormentor of Verâd, and if they had, it would have been nothing but luck!” Aharôs clenched a hand tightly closed, and frowned at the cathedral around him.

“I've come to hate these places. Why did we even come here, Tempest?” he asked to her, not waiting for an answer. “Out of a meaningless tradition? Ever since Maelstrom died, nothing's gone right. Brenan said it's all a test of faith, but I have been devout to the right path my entire life! What allegiance do I owe to a god that sees fit to test me by taking everything, while degenerates like Reshîv have all their desires rewarded? Where is the justice in that?” The King paced about, looking up to into the distant dome as if expecting a reply. But there was none, as Tempest expected.

Aharôs paused again, breathing deeply. He looked up at the terrible figure in an earlier fresco, the one in which he stepped out of the column of fire. “The legends call him a traitor, Tempest. What drove him to turn on us, I wonder?” The King's expression softened as he spoke, as did his voice. “What could they do to a man to drive him so far into hatred? Who wronged him? Who betrayed him? Who abandoned him? Who did he lose? When did he finally become the demon we all feared for so long?”

The shining eyes of the Great Enemy stared back at him, narrowed in malice.

A great unease came over Tempest; the words Aharôs now spoke were words contrary to human civilization itself. “I think we should go.” she said.

“Yes, Tempest,” Aharôs agreed, “I have no place here. And I don't think you do either.”

“Is the human god not for Equestrians?” asked she.

“No for you, Tempest, and not for me either.”

Tempest took one last look at the great halls as they left. A wave of sadness crept up on her as she walked out, that none of the beauty or light here could ever be for her. As they took the carriage back to the palace, the question of Zefîr came to mind. She thought of who she could talk to about it. Brenan was around, somewhere, but Tempest had hardly seen him since they arrived in the city months ago. He's probably too busy for me, she decided. The Empress too might have been able to help, but Tempest didn't want to look any stupider than she already was in front of one of her only superiors in the world.

So, Snowy was her best bet, and luckily, she was just settling down to sleep when Tempest got back. “Hey, Snowy, can I ask you about something?” Tempest questioned.

“Of course.”

“Well,I went to the cathedral with Aharôs tonight.” she said.

“Oh?”

“He didn't like it.” Tempest frowned. “I thought it was a lovely place, but there were some confusing things, and we left. He said there was no place for either of us there.”

Snowy snorted. “It seems someone hasn't actually read his own people's holy book. The god of humans isn't just the god of humans, you know. It is for all life on Earth. The humans just happened to be the first ones to receive its word.”

“I knew that, but...” Tempest just shrugged. “I don't know. And I've been wondering about the one that saved the King, Zefîr. Aharôs said it was just pure luck, and I don't see what's so great about him if it was just luck. Isn't he supposed to be really brave? But why honor someone whose bravery just ended up with them getting killed?”

“I think you both missed the point completely.” Snowy said. “The story of Saint Zefîr isn't about his death. Zefîr is one of our greatest heroes, if not the greatest. Aikâlon, while a great man and leader of humanity in its darkest hour, was not Zefîr. Aikâlon was a king, trained for battle and war, with a whole life's experience of fighting behind him. Zefîr was just an ordinary man.”

“Then how is he a hero? Why would some commoner be remembered better than a king?” So far, Snowy wasn't giving her the answers she wanted.

“Because of the choice he made.” Snowy stated quietly. “Zefîr stood against the shadow, though he knew he could never prevail.”

“But why?” Tempest pressed. Snowy went on.

“There was no hope for his victory, there was no hope for his survival, and there was not even a chance he could strike a single blow against the Great Enemy. He could have chosen to live, to give into his fear and flee into the night, or throw himself down before the Alûthrîl and their wicked lord. But he held his ground. He stood. And he died.” Those were the same words that Aharôs had said, but Snowy spoke with reverence where Aharôs had spoken with disdain. “Because he stood against all odds, staying the Great Enemy’s hand just long enough, King Aikâlon was able to escape, and lead his people away from their doom at the hands of those Alûthrîl and their dark array.”

Tempest said nothing, but listened on. Snowy continued: “Do you see it, Tempest? Zefîr's defiance wasn't for his own sake. He didn't stand to save his own life; he stood to save another. He knew he would die, but in his last living moments, he saved all mankind. That is why we honor Zefîr. And I like to think, if Zefîr could stand against the might of Hell despite all his fear and weakness... Then perhaps the rest of us can stand too, against far fairer odds, in a far better place, and for causes far smaller.” There was silence between them for a time.

“I don't know.” Tempest finally spoke, ears falling. “Between shadow spirits and wraiths and wars and kingdoms... I don't think I can do it.”

“There was something Father Brenan said to me when I first heard this story, way back in Nikadîon.” Snowy gazed out through the window, before turning back to her. “He summed up Zefîr in just a single sentence: true courage can be found even in the most unlikely of souls. That's... That's always stuck with me, since I heard it. And I think you could do with hearing it too.”

Tempest looked down at her hooves, not sure of what she was feeling. Shame? Guilt? Resignation? There had been a time when she would have laughed at such sappy sentiment, thinking it was just something else the humans liked to tell themselves; something that Snowy had fallen for. But now... After everything Tempest had gone through, everything she had faced and felt, after so much uncertainty and doubt and fear, those words struck more soundly than she would have imagined in better times. The most unlikely of souls... Tempest repeated to herself. That was her, alright. An ordinary pony caught up in something she didn’t really understand, and didn’t want to be in. But if a common man no stronger or greater than she could find his courage when he needed it most, against a power darker than even the shadow spirit she faced... Maybe, just maybe she could find her courage for the coming days too. “Thank you, Snowy,” Tempest said quietly. “I don't know where I'd be without you.”

Snowy beamed happily. “You'll be saying that again when we have to balance Highcrest's budget!”

At that, Tempest could only laugh, and she went to sleep that night without worry of any alicorns.

Author's Notes:

[friendship intensifies]

Sorry about how long this took. I've just been torn between classes and trying to hammer this out. Worked on a Goldleaf chapter for a while, it stalled too. A part of the problem was this final scene, I've had a version of it sitting around since late 2012. It's actually pretty important, but the original one took place in the church with Snowy and the priest Goldleaf and Hemlock met on the road there, but... complications arose. Gotta have some cheesy morality, though!

Pacing spoiler: Fun times in Equestria for all four POV characters are sooner than you think.