“Is that so?”

“Indeed it is, sister,” Celestia said from her place at the table. She, Twilight, and Princess Luna were seated in the castle’s banquet hall, enjoying a semi-private dinner. After finishing the previous chapter in Cyclone’s and Typhoon’s journal, Twilight and Princess Celestia had gone there to eat, sending a messenger along the way inviting Luna to join them. The darker alicorn had arrived shortly thereafter, looking rather tired. Twilight fathomed a guess that she either slept during the day, or didn’t sleep, period. Her nightly vigil certainly didn’t afford her the chance to sleep then.

“And this… journal of theirs,” the younger princess was saying, pointing a spoon towards Celestia, “was but recently recovered by Twilight and Rainbow Dash? Sister, We had no idea that thou were sending two of Equestria’s Bearers into hostile terrain on an expedition.”

Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but Twilight was quicker. “Princess Celestia didn’t send me. I… kinda went on her own.” She blushed as the princesses’ attentions turned toward her.

“Twilight had sought my permission to go to Saraneighvo nearly two months ago as part of her research on Commander Hurricane, after she found one of his old journals,” Celestia said. Twilight couldn’t help but notice that the hair on the back of Luna’s neck bristled at the mention of the Cirran’s name. “She, in turn, brought Rainbow Dash along with her. From what she told me earlier today, Rainbow was an integral part in the expedition’s success.”

The hair on Luna’s neck slowly flattened, and she turned to Twilight, attempting to look friendly but somehow only looking sterner beneath her keen interest. “The Bearer of Loyalty interested in a scholarly expedition?” It was only when the corners of the princess’ lips upturned in a slight smile that Twilight caught the jab at her friend. “We would never have imagined. Thou must be rubbing off on her more than thou thinks, Twilight Sparkle.”

Celestia coughed into her hoof. “Language, Luna.” The darker alicorn looked to her sister with a touch of confusion before recognition flashed in her eyes. She turned away, grumbling that ponies had a right to use their tongue however they pleased, regardless of what others thought.

Twilight cocked her head. “Erm… what? Princess Luna didn’t say anything… well, bad.”

“Sister wants Us—I,” she corrected, glaring at Celestia, “to learn the proper tongue for the times. She simply does not appreciate the beauty and poetry of the older ways of speaking, when Equestria was in its golden age.”

Celestia chuckled and levitated her tea to her lips, taking a quick sip. “Ah, but now we are living in Equestria’s second golden age, dear Sister. You have returned, Discord is imprisoned, and King Sombra has been defeated, allowing us to welcome the Crystal Empire into the Principality of Equestria with open forelegs. The world promises to be a new place of peace and prosperity in light of these events.”

Luna scoffed. “The world hath already been conquered, unlike two thousand years ago. The expeditions to settling the Bitalian archipelago… those were the heydays of the Principality.” She happily sighed, looking off someplace into the distance and revisiting old memories.

“Luna loved to explore the west,” Celestia explained to Twilight. “She spent half her time on the other side of the country, captaining a ship and simply sailing the unexplored waters.” At Twilight’s look of incredulity, Celestia smiled. “I had tried to warn her that it would be dangerous, but it is hard to dissuade a dear sister from following her childhood dreams. They occupied the better part of two centuries before she was finally satisfied.”

“And what a marvelous two centuries they were!” Luna exclaimed, returning to the present. “Our only regret is that We did not go sooner. Then again, having the companionship of fellow ponies during the beautiful nights on the calm seas made it all worth it.” She sighed again. “A different breed of equines, they were. They were some of the few who did appreciate my night.”

Twilight picked at her meal, a hearty plate of pasta e fagioli that the Bitalian chef had made for them, and tried forcing the images involving ‘companionship’ and Princess Luna that weren’t appropriate out of her head.

“But I believe we hath allowed ourselves too much digression,” Luna stated, bringing the conversation back on track. “We were discussing thine expedition into Saraneighvo, Twilight. Tell… me, is that where you found this journal?”

Twilight shook her head. “Not yet. At Saraneighvo, Rainbow and I found a Cirran vault containing another of Commander Hurricane’s journals.” She blinked as she noticed Luna quickly suppress a scowl. “Long story short, it gave his account on what happened during the actual Hearth’s Warming Eve. It’s… surprisingly revealing. There’s considerably more detail and truth to it than Clover the Clever’s, for comparison.”

Luna angled her head, and Twilight couldn’t help but notice the broad arc her long horn swept through as she did. “We always found Clover to be a respectable and highly intelligent mare,” the blue alicorn stated.

“I’m not disagreeing with that, and I look up to her greatly myself,” Twilight said, defending herself. “But she tended to romanticize things quite a bit. In addition to being Equestria’s second archmage and pupil of Star Swirl the Bearded himself, she was also an avid writer of fiction and foals’ stories. Her telling of Hearth’s Warming, the official version all of Equestria knows, suffers heavily from influences of both.”

Luna nodded, her spoon gliding through the soup in front of her. “Hmm. But this other journal that thou hast recovered. ‘Twas written by the children of Hurricane?”

This time, Celestia answered. “I was as surprised as you are, sister. Eight thousand years is a long time for something like that to have survived, untouched, in a castle in Stalliongrad. Still, the journal came with their feathers, which I have every reason to believe are legitimate. From skimming through the pages, it seems to go through Hurricane’s death.”

“Humph. We hope their portrayal of us has been… credible.”

Twilight caught the irritation in Luna’s voice again, and this time she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Princess Luna, what happened between you and Hurricane’s family?”

The darker alicorn flinched, and her eyes darted down to her food. “How far art thou in the journal?”

“We just finished the chapter where Hurricane found you and Princess Celestia,” Twilight responded. “He killed one of your Night Guards, and he talked with somepony by the name of Third Sister for a while afterwards.”

Luna looked off into the distance, nodding. “I remember. He was the first living stallion that Sister and I had interacted with in a very long time.” Her focus narrowed on Twilight, causing the mare to cringe a little, and her speech lapsed back into her archaic tongue. “If thou art reading through this journal of theirs, then We shall not fill thine head with any sort of premonition or bias by telling you Our side of the story. We simply beseech you to talk to us once thou hast read more.”

Twilight glanced at the book laying on the table by her foreleg. “Princess Celestia and I were going to read more after dinner. Would you like to join us?”

The Princess of the Night thought for a few moments before giving her a curt nod. “I do not believe that I have any obligations in the Night Court—not that We usually do, mind you,” Luna stated, bouncing back and forth between modern and archaic Equiish. “I can afford to miss Vigil for one night out of many served. I shall ask Eldest Sister to stand in Our place.”

Celestia’s horn lit up, and she carefully handed her empty plates over to one of the castle’s wait staff for cleaning. “Twilight and I just got to the part where we spoke to Hurricane for the first time,” Celestia told her sister. “We were going to continue reading it in my chamber after dinner.”

“Very well,” Luna said. “I shall meet you there, after I inform Eldest Sister of my change in plans.” Standing up, the younger alicorn stood to her regal height and stepped back, letting the wait staff clear her place at the table. Then, angling out a wing, she gave a shorthand approximation of a wave before disappearing into the winding halls of the castle.

A few minutes passed, in which Twilight finished the last of her pasta. Looking at the book again, she grasped it in her magic and opened to the bookmark, reading over the last section. “Do you know what happened between Luna and Commander Hurricane?”

Celestia’s face darkened for the briefest of moments, but she soon restored her impenetrable poker face. “Yes, I do. Luna and Hurricane did not start off on the right hoof, as it were, and I don’t think they really bothered to try again afterwards. If you recall from the journal, Hurricane first met Luna after killing one of her Night Guard. Considering the sort of personal attachments my sister likes to form with those on her Guard, it’s hardly surprising that her and Hurricane’s family hardly got along in their later years.”

It was something, but Twilight was beginning to get frustrated, knowing that both sisters were holding back a crucial part of the story from her. “But that hardly explains what happened between them. Surely, Hurricane accidentally killing one of her Night Guards wasn’t enough for her to really hate him… right?”

The immortal alicorn looked away. “No, not at first. There were other, more personal reasons that Luna and Hurricane soon came at each other’s throats. I’m sure I had something to do with it as well.” She looked away, ashamed.

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but Celestia stood up and moved towards the nearby hallway before she could. “Luna should be waiting for us by now,” the Princess said over her shoulder. “We should find her and continue reading the journal then.”

Wordlessly, Twilight slid out of her seat, thanking the pony who slid up behind her to clean her place at the table. Her lavender Arcana wrapped around the journal as she left, pulling the book close to her side. Celestia waited for her at the doorway and ushered her forward with a wing before following.

Past the great hall, the hallways and stone corridors split off into numerous branches and small passageways that snaked their way throughout the numerous levels of the castle, leading to all sorts of halls and hidden rooms. The castle itself was more like a civilized version of its hedge maze outside, and a pony could easily get lost if they didn’t have guards to escort them from one place to another. Luckily, Twilight had spent most of her foalhood in the castle, and she knew the majority of the passageways by heart. As such, it was with little difficulty that she wound her way through the branching and diverging hallways, ultimately coming to a large spiral staircase that was easily ten tail-lengths from wall to wall.

Trotting up the stairs, Twilight and Celestia came to the large, gilded door to the Princess’ chambers. Unsurprisingly, the doors were already open, and inside, Twilight could see Luna resting on a large pillow in front of the fireplace. The darker alicorn nodded to them as they entered.

“I will admit, it has been quite some time that we have simply sat down and reminisced about the past, sister,” Luna said as Celestia levitated over two cushions from the side of the room, a large harlequin-colored one for herself and a smaller lavender one for her student. “It is about time that we converse in matters other than politics, for once. Rest and relaxation seem to be shortcoming in Canterlot as of late.”

Celestia smiled, settling down on her cushion and pushing a pile of scrolls into the corner of the room. “I know what you mean,” she said, gently raising an eyebrow. “But somepony has to do it.”

Luna groaned and buried her head in her forelegs. “And now thou realize why We explored the world two millennia ago. Politicians don’t follow you onto the sea; ponies of honest character do.”

Twilight leaned forward a bit, wanting to hear the Moon Princess’ stories, but the golden wash of Celestia’s magic around the journal on the floor reminded her that she was already reading a story, one that had lasting impacts on the history of Equestria as it was written. Sighing, she leaned back, settling into her cushion as Celestia opened the journal.

The white alicorn slid her cushion back a few inches, holding the book out in front of her. Twilight and Luna slid their cushions closer together, hunkering down like a couple of fillies waiting for story time. The thought amused her.

“So,” Celestia said, looking every bit like a school teacher sitting before her students, “Luna, feel free to contribute to anything you feel is recounted… improperly, or if there is something else you would like to clarify.”

“Rest assured that it will be the case,” Luna replied, squirming slightly as she settled into her cushion. Twilight thought the motion looked absolutely ridiculous on the larger mare, and her lips quivered as she fought to keep a straight face.

Celestia nodded and opened the book. Clearing her throat, she immediately picked up where she left off, mentally translating the Cirran characters of Typhoon’s script and reading them aloud. “My father told me all about his talks with Celestia and Luna, including everything they discussed, and everything they told him; and…

“My Ladies, please forgive an old soldier for not paying you proper respects,” Hurricane said, his voice soft and reverent. His wings were held loosely at his sides with the primaries draped across the floor and the crests angled downwards. The aging stallion bowed his head and averted his gaze, staring at the floor and away from the magnificent alicorns at the other end of the room. “Nopony ever expects to meet their goddesses when they still draw breath. Had I known, I… I would have…”

The two sisters exchanged a look. Luna’s lip twitched as she struggled to maintain her stern façade and suppress her amusement. Celestia bit her lip and nickered uncomfortably, seemingly not at ease with the pegasus’ reverence. Clearing her throat, she squarely faced the bowing stallion and took a small step forward. “Rise, my little pony. Let us see your face.”

Hurricane’s shoulders tensed, yet he slowly complied with his goddess’ command. Very, very cautiously, he lifted his head from the ground and barely flicked his eyes across the alicorns’ majestic figures. Almost as soon as he made eye contact with Celestia, however, his eyes darted away, feeling weak, ashamed, and rude, as if his mere sight had molested Her sacred figure.

Celestia smiled comfortingly. “It is okay. We mean you no harm.”

Luna rolled her eyes and leaned over to nudge Celestia in the side. “He thinks we’re gods or the like, in case you had not noticed, sister.” She glanced at the stallion again, and she couldn’t help but let the corner of her mouth tilt up. “Magnus would like him.”

Hurricane froze. His wings twitched ominously, and he slowly turned to glare at Luna through the corner of his eye. “My Lady… did you not see what happened to Cirra? Magnus the Usurper destroyed the Empire. His hordes slaughtered millions and razed thousands of years of pegasus civilization. They tore Stratopolis and Nimbus to the ground. They desecrated your temple in Nyx! And yet you… you…” His speech stumbled as he searched for the correct words. “You even speak his name as if you two were friends!”

The taller, white alicorn turned and leveled a glare at her sister. “Luna! Do not joke about such things! You remember how many souls we sent to the Summer Lands, how many pegasi died because of Magnus!” Looking at Hurricane, she squinted, scrutinizing his visage, before reaffixing her attention on Luna. “He’s old enough to have served then. We both know that there was hardly a stallion his age that didn’t.”

Luna opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and looked aside. Celestia strode closer to Hurricane and placed a downy wing on his back. The pegasus stiffened at the contact, but when Celestia gently traced his jaw with her other wing, he couldn’t help but look directly at her.

“Forgive my sister, legionary,” Celestia said. “She has always been the more… brazen of the two of us.”

Hurricane breathed once, bottling up all his inner anger and rage and resuming a calm and reverent expression. “I cannot be mad at a Lady of Cirra. It is not my place, and it is not my right.”

Celestia pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “Who are you, soldier? I believe in all the excitement you’ve been through today, we’ve never had a chance to share our names.”

The black pegasus shuffled a half-step back, confusion on his face. “But you are my goddesses, and the goddesses of every Cirran! I say this not out of pride, but surely you know who I am, as much as I know who you are.”

The two alicorns shared another glance, and this time Luna stepped forward, obviously growing frustrated. “We pay attention to more ponies than just the pegasi, soldier. You may think of us as your gods, but that doesn’t mean that we know who you are.”

“Perhaps some clarification is in order,” Celestia said, speaking before the pegasus could respond. “I take it from earlier that you already know who we are, or as much about us as your culture has taught you.” Holding out a wing, she pointed to her sister. “This is my little sister, Luna.”

The darker alicorn rolled her eyes. “When you’re as old as we are, a difference of a few years in age means absolutely nothing.” Then she pointed her hoof at the white alicorn. “And this is Celestia, my older sister. Call her ‘Celly’ all you want; it irritates her to no end.”

Celestia looked back to Hurricane. “As you can see, close enough to the names I believe you addressed us as when you first saw us… Celeste and Lūn?” At Hurricane’s nod, she continued. “From dealing with the souls of ponies, not just the pegasi, but the earth ponies and unicorns as well, we know that we’re seen as gods for many reasons. We have lived for tens of thousands of years. I, however, do not consider myself to be one. My sister feels much the same way…”

Luna gave a half-hearted nod that left much to be desired in its honesty.

“…and we both know that we have our own limitations. But before we get to that, what is your name?” She smiled gently. “I’d like to avoid having to refer to you indirectly if we can have a civilized conversation.”

Nodding, Hurricane sat straighter. “I am Hurricane, my Ladies, of the line of Stormblade. I am Commander Maximus of Equestria, the Legion, and the pegasus race. I am also the last emperor of the Cirran Empire—the very empire which Magnus the Usurper destroyed.” He cast a spiteful look poorly veiled as neutrality towards Luna. The alicorn didn’t seem to care.

Celestia’s eyes widened just the slightest, and she leaned back from Hurricane not out of shock, but out of respect. “You are Commander Hurricane?”

“It was obvious,” Luna commented from the corner. “You can tell just by looking at him.”

Hurricane wasn’t sure if the younger alicorn was lying, or if she actually was observant enough to piece his identity together. Regardless, he nodded to Celestia. “You’ve heard of me?” He paused, thinking for a brief moment. “That explains how you know of everything the Usurper did to us during the Red Cloud War.”

“Yes, we do,” Celestia answered, sparing the time to shoot Luna another reprimanding look. The mare just shrugged and turned to the side, inspecting a peculiar inch of the cave wall.

“I… don’t understand,” Hurricane said, glancing towards his hooves. “You do not consider yourselves gods, but you know all this? And you… judge souls?” Anger flashed over his face, as the world he’d believed in since his youth crumbled around him at this new ‘truth’. “That isn’t your job,” Hurricane protested, looking Celestia in the eyes. “My Lady… Celeste, where is Garuda?”

Celestia leaned ever so slightly forward. “We’ve heard the same question from nearly every pegasus that we’ve judged,” she began. “In all honesty, we don’t understand where all the extra gods that you Cirrans have filled your pantheon with come from. The earth ponies and unicorns only have us, and the crystal ponies are monotheistic. However, the idea that this god, Garuda, judges the deceased when they pass is wrong. My sister and I are the ones responsible; I take care of the ponies who die in the day, and she takes care of the ones that die at night.”

“And there are no ‘Great Skies’,” Luna interjected. Hurricane turned his head to look at her, watching her stand tall at the other end of the room. She seemed to enjoy picking apart his faith and beliefs, judging by the smirk tugging at her cheeks. “At least, not by the name that the pegasi believe. The souls of not just ponies, but the donkeys and zebras, are rewarded with eternal peace and rest in the Summer Lands, if they have led righteous and moral lives. Otherwise, they are sent to Tartarus, or what you Cirrans simply call ‘Hell’.”

Commander Hurricane furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what a ‘donkey’ is, but you judge the tribals, too?”

“Tribals?” Celestia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hurricane nodded. “At the very southern tip of Dioda, scattered across a few small island chains, were the striped tribals. They called themselves zebras. They didn’t have anything Cirra wanted, and they knew not to come to the mainland.” He paused. “I don’t know what’s happened to them since Magnus tore Cirra to the ground. If pegasi were below the Usurper, then I can’t imagine how much farther down the tribals are.”

Then, Hurricane narrowed his eyes at Celestia. “But the tribals are not ponies. You aren’t their gods. Why do you judge their souls?” He looked aside, trying to pin down a thought, before angling his head towards the white alicorn again. “Why do you not call yourselves gods when you can judge souls? When you yourselves have said that you are immortal?”

“It simply depends on what your definition of a god is,” Luna said. The younger alicorn moved to the table and took a seat, steepling her hooves together like a tutor lecturing a student from her desk. “Are we immortal? Yes. We’ve lived for a long time. Are we powerful?” She looked at the ceiling, but it was fairly obvious she was looking through the several hundred tons of stone to the sky outside. “My sister moves the sun, and I move the moon and the night sky. Yes, one could say that we are powerful. Are we wise?” Here she leaned forward, fixing Hurricane in a surprisingly indecipherable stare. “We have seen more things than every pony alive put together. We know many things that historians, clerics, and scholars haven’t the faintest ideas of. Yet, for all that, we are hardly the most intelligent ponies in existence. The great unicorn wizards or the earth pony sages from centuries past knew things even we could hardly imagine. Think on that for a moment.” Then she blinked and leaned back in her seat, filling the room with silence.

After a few seconds, Celestia spoke up. “As Luna has been hinting at, trying to fit us to the term ‘god’ is like trying to fit a round peg through a square hole, so to speak. We simply aren’t perfect fits.” Settling back, her eyes focused on some distant past, and a slight haze of nostalgia passed over them. “We did not create the world; we had no part in the forces at play that shaped it out of whatever existed before. We were simply born into it. Civilization and society existed long before we did, and in our youth, we were tended to like all fillies, chased by suitors and lorded over by our parents. Our lives were not so much different from those of average ponies.” Celestia briefly grinned as she remembered some pleasant experience from her distant past. “Luna and I weren’t alicorns then; we weren’t even sisters. I was a unicorn born to two well-to-do nobles; she was a pegasus whose parents were, admittedly, con artists and thieves.”

Luna frowned. “They taught me how to fight, and how to use the shadows to my advantage. Corrupt as they might have been, I still loved them.”

Hurricane’s eyes travelled up and down Celestia’s figure. Shifting where he sat, he asked simply, “What changed you?”

“There was an evil spirit who sowed chaos and disorder into the land,” Luna said. “By his hand, nations toppled and empires fell. Lives were lost to the madness. My sister and I, along with four others, managed to strip him of his power over the world. When we did, we realized that his power over nature had to go somewhere. We couldn’t simply let the land run wild, so we took it upon ourselves to take over in his stead.” She spread her wings. “It was then that I gained my horn and Celestia her wings. After everything we’d been through, in that moment, we felt like sisters. It is a bond that has served us well for countless millennia.”

“And your powers?” Hurricane asked.

“I took dominion over the night, and Celestia, the day,” Luna continued. “The other elements of nature were taken by our friends. An elk by the name of Valdria was given arguably the most powerful element, the gift of life. Her will was, and still is, an incorruptible one, strange as her way of thinking would be. It was only fitting that she be given charge of such an important power.”

“I’ve never met an ‘elk’ before,” Hurricane stated. “Where do they live?”

Celestia pointed in a vague direction with her wing. “Several thousand miles to the southwest of here, in an immensely thick forest. Elk are rather isolationist. They won’t leave their homeland unless forced to; I doubt that you’ll ever meet one in your lifetime unless you purposefully seek them out.”

Luna nodded. “Meanwhile, entropy and decay were given to an old friend of ours. She was our leader, and we felt she was the most trustworthy to hold such a... sensitive power. But she, along with the rest of her kind, are...” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes fell to studying the stone floor. When she raised her head, it was to carry two small words. “...no more.” She stopped and shook her head. “After that, the spark of that element was passed on to another race, the buffalo, but from there it was taken by the boars, who live in the badlands to the south. Currently, it rests with one of their warchiefs, but I can never keep their names straight. A moment” Luna paused and held out her wing, actually counting the primary feathers and mumbling names. About a dozen names that Hurricane could hardly understand later, she finally folded her wing back against her side. “That’s right, a boarish warchief by the name of Güyük currently holds it. For how long, though, not even I can tell.”

“I’d give him two thousand more years,” Celestia commented. “That seems to be the rate at which entropy is going through bearers.”

Hurricane made a quick mental count. “And the two others?”

“Yes, well, our dragon friend claimed earth,” Luna continued. “He goes by Krenn. It only makes sense that he would want it; all dragons are immune to fire and lava, and the ability to manipulate volcanoes and lava to create a blistering haven for his race would be too much for Krenn to pass up.”

Hurricane angled his head to the side. “Volcanoes aren’t natural?” Immediately his mind conjured pictures of Feathertop, the skies filled with fire and raining molten rock. Rivers choked with thick, black soot. A scorched limb sticking through the scalding ash, its flesh seared off of the bone. But that would mean... No, it couldn’t be. “Are you sure they can’t go off on their own?”

Luna laughed, a clear and proud sound. “Of course they aren’t! The world wouldn’t survive if they weren’t regulated by someone. They would simply detonate at random, and soon the earth would be covered in fire and ash. No, volcanoes are controlled by Krenn, and they only go off by his command.”

The revelation put Hurricane back in shock. Feathertop hadn’t been coincidence; no, it was a trap, a trap which killed thousands and thousands and thousands of pegasus lives. Cirran lives. Feathertop had cost Cirra the war; even with the fall of Nimbus, the pegasi were in a prime position to strike back and reclaim lost ground. But when three legions perished at Feathertop, leaving the Empire with nothing but barely-trained recruits to defend it, it was the end. And somehow, Magnus had coerced this dragon, Krenn, into obliterating Cirra that day.

Or, perhaps, something worse. Something far worse, yet something Hurricane knew in his gut was true. Raising his head, he looked Luna square in the eyes. “Magnus controls the winds.” It wasn’t a question, a statement. He had proclaimed himself a god of the winds when they had briefly met in Nimbus. “He’s... he’s one of you, isn’t he?”

The midnight alicorn blinked, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, Magnus is the last of our original circle, as it were.” She smiled faintly and her eyes twinkled with nostalgia. “Magnus, Krenn, and I were all close friends in our youth. It’s a shame that we’ve drifted—”

The commander’s face paled. “He was a close friend?” He sputtered in disbelief, his eyes searching the ground as his mind sorted through his thoughts. “You and this monster, this monster that tried to exterminate my race, are friends?!” His wings snapped open in rage, and the tips began releasing smoke into the small chamber. “You claim that you judge souls. How could you not have known what the Usurper was trying to do? And, more importantly, why didn’t you help?”

Luna frowned, searching for an answer. When it came, it wasn’t from her, but from her older sister. “I judged their souls,” Celestia said, flatly, and with a pained expression on her face. “But so many were lost all at once... I couldn’t judge them one by one. We knew of this ‘Red Cloud War’, and we knew that you were fighting the griffons tooth and nail. But it was, for the most part, so much like the wars Cirra had fought before that we thought nothing of it at first, and we never had the chance to ask the deceased if anything different was going on.” She looked away, and Hurricane felt like she was struggling to hold back tears. “So many of you pegasi were dying in this war of yours that my sister and I simply didn’t have the time to speak to them individually.”

“Yes,” Luna said, taking the burden of explaining from Celestia, “When the Cirran dead started coming in by the dozens, hundreds, thousands, every night and every day, we had to judge them all quickly and all at once. To let a soul linger for too long before it can be judged condemns it to a restless existence. It becomes a ghost, condemned to wander between worlds and craving mana as its boredom and confusion drive it mad. Once it accrues enough, however, it becomes a spirit powerful enough to return and terrorize the living world, twisting it to its warped and unnatural desires.” The blue alicorn sighed and touched a hoof to her lips. Withdrawing it, she added, “Every single Cirran that died for his or her country was sent to the Summer Lands, commander. There was simply nothing else we could do. I hope you can take solace in that.”

The only noise in the room for the next minute was the melancholy dripping of water off of some stalactite deeper within the mountain. When Hurricane finally spoke, it was with a reserved sadness. “Thank you, my Ladies. Thank you. It... means a lot.” After a few seconds, he smiled softly to himself. Looking up through the ceiling to where the skies lay above, he nodded. “You deserved it, Silver.”

Luna and Celestia glanced knowingly at each other, but it was Hurricane that addressed them next. “But about Magnus...” he shifted, daring to stand up in the presence of the two alicorns. “If he was an immortal like he claimed, why didn’t he wipe aside Cirra in the beginning? Why let the pegasi form an empire that lasted for four hundred years? Why let us win for so long, slowly choking the life out of his race through war and conquest?”

“It has been several thousand years since we last spoke directly with him,” Celestia said, stepping forward to stand beside her sister. “We parted on... less than favorable terms.” She waved a wing, as if dismissing the story before Hurricane could ask about it. “But we know that he enjoyed war and conquest. He treated it like a sport, a game. Games of strategy and cunning were his favorite, and when we were young, Luna was the only one of us who could beat him in a game of chess. Even still, her victories came only some of the time, and she suffered defeat more often than not.” Hurricane noticed Luna’s lips purse as she fought down some bitter sentiments of games long lost, before Celestia continued. “As Magnus grew, so too did the scale of his games. I imagine he was simply toying with your people for four centuries, perhaps longer, before he finally decided he was bored of you.”

Hurricane winced in pain, placing a hoof over his heart. “My people... my empire... Silver Sword, Shear Point, my parents? We all died because the Usurper was playing a game?!” He began to pant, and tongues of flame rippled along his wingtips. Tears traced their way down his already matted cheeks, decorating the hairs with frost. “Millions died because an immortal griffon was bored?!”

Celestia backed away, startled by the pegasus’ sudden discharge of Empatha. Luna watched cautiously from the table, not moving, but not blinking either, keeping her keen eyes fixed on the pegasus. “And this Krenn...” Hurricane continued, “he controls volcanoes? And he and Magnus were close?” He looked to Luna, and the alicorn tersely nodded. Hurricane’s conflicting emotions caused his Empatha to spark uncontrollably, scattering flames and ice in the area around him. “I, and the entire Cirran Empire, thought that the gods had spurned us when Feathertop erupted and killed three whole legions’ worth of legionaries. We outnumbered Magnus three to one in that engagement, and we suffered casualties at a similar rate. Feathertop broke the Empire. And now?” He gritted his teeth, seething. “Now I’m convinced that the ‘gods’ were conspiring against us that fateful day. Hell, I know they were now; you’ve basically told me as much. ”

Everypony was quiet as the weary pegasus seethed in sorrowful anger. Eventually, it was the younger alicorn that broke the silence. “The weak perish; the strong prosper. Yet here you are. Your race didn’t die out.” Seeing Hurricane look up at her, Luna shook her head. “I know how Magnus would act when he decided it was time to reset the board. The fact that you are even here, alive, twenty-five years after he tried, says a lot about your race.” She stood up and slowly began to pace around the room. “The fact that he let you flee, that there is even a single pegasus alive in this world, tells me that he respects you. That in his eyes, you are worth fighting again.” She looked firmly at the commander, meeting his gaze and nodding her head. “Knowing not to abuse that respect is going to keep your race alive in the countless generations to come.”

It took Hurricane several minutes to finally calm down, but when he did, his wings hung loose by his sides and he meekly shook his head. Biting down on her lip, Celestia slowly moved forward and draped a comforting wing on the pegasus’ back. “I know this has been tough,” she said, looking concerned. “I can only imagine how you’re feeling, to hear everything you were taught as truth your entire life to be so wantonly torn down around you.” She massaged his back with her wing, although the pegasus didn’t say anything. “I think it’s for the best if we stop now and talk about something else.”

“I want to know one thing,” Hurricane asked, his voice low and sounding defeated. When he looked at Celestia, she couldn’t help but wince at the hurt in his eyes. “My Lady... are the gods real? Is there truly someone, something out there that I can turn to in my hour of need? That Equestria can look towards in these dark days? And when I say gods...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, casting a quick glance at Luna. “When I say gods, I mean actual gods. Beings that fit the description in ways that you don’t. Something... more that lives out there, watching us. Beings like Garuda or Mobius, beings that shape the world and guide us. Are they real?”

Celestia pursed her lips, silent while she thought how to best answer the commander’s question. Unfortunately, her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by Hurricane, and the stallion craned his neck to look at her expectantly. “I’m... not sure that I can answer that,” Celestia began, slowly parsing her way through the words. “If there are... they’ve never made themselves apparent to—”

“They exist,” Luna cut in abruptly. Both Hurricane and Celestia turned to face her. She stood with a quiet confidence by the end of the table, and she nodded slowly. “Tia...” she began, searching for the words. “I’ve been to the Between before.”

Celestia’s eyes widened imperceptibly, but Hurricane noticed the stiffening in her posture. “Luna,” Celestia said, her voice held low, “You know that we shouldn’t go there. It’s far too dangerous, even for us.”

Luna twisted her hoof on the ground like a filly caught stealing candy. “Yes... well, we hardly know what happens there after we send the souls of the deceased away. I thought I should... investigate and see how they were doing.”

The white alicorn looked like she wanted to say something, but Hurricane cut her off. “And the Between is like the Great Skies... err, Summer Lands?”

“It is the space between the afterlives of the various races,” Luna answered, looking thankful that Hurricane had spared her from Celestia’s questioning. “The Summer Lands exist in one corner, Valhalla, the griffon afterlife, exists in another, and so on and so forth. Even Tartarus has a place in the Between, although it is strictly defined... and accompanied by a physical rift in the earth.” She gestured to the side with her horn, obviously referencing the chasm filled with void crystals that Third Sister had taken Hurricane across on his way to the chamber.

Then she looked at her sister. “But when I was there, Tia... I felt something. Walking between afterlives, something passed by me, though I could not see it. But it was there all the same. And it was immensely powerful, and incredibly old.” She placed a hoof to her temple. “Its mind brushed mine for the faintest of moments, but I saw enough to know that it existed somewhere far above us. Perhaps the reason why I couldn’t see it was because I couldn’t comprehend it.”

Celestia was quiet for several moments. “Perhaps it was just a powerful spirit lost in the Between. There are several.” One of her wings fidgeted with concern. “Spirits like Discord, perhaps. All these years later, I still find it hard to believe he was one of a kind.”

Luna looked like she wanted to argue, but she simply shrugged her wings. “Spirit or no, it was there. Yet I find it hard to believe more spirits like him could still be out there but haven’t made themselves known.” She paused. “And I have my own beliefs. Regardless, it was something I’ve never encountered before, and without knowing its intentions, I hesitate to dig further in search of the truth.” She looked off to the distance and shrugged. “Perhaps one day I may return and try to understand, but until then, I have no reason to do so.”

Hurricane released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He felt... easy. Calmer. Like a great weight had been taken from his chest. He looked at the younger alicorn and gave her the smallest hint of a smile. “Thank you, Luna.”

“‘Twas nothing,” Luna curtly stated. Then, stepping forward, she moved within a foreleg’s reach of the Cirran. “But, now that we’ve carried on for long enough on the topic of gods and spirits, perhaps we return to the real reason why you are here.”

Celestia stepped back, folding her wing back against her side. “Yes, I’m rather interested in that as well. It’s been thousands of years since we’ve last spoken with anypony.”

Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “But what about ponies like Third Sister?”

“They are thestrals,” Luna answered with a literal wave of her wing. “They are not ponies.” The tone in her voice made it clear that she did not want to elaborate on the distinction.

“Right,” Hurricane said. Then, straightening his back and flexing his uncomfortably naked wings, he sat up straight. “A few days ago, an artifact of incredible importance was stolen from Everfree. Star Swirl the Bearded kept special care of it inside a safe that nopony should ever have been able to break through, yet a unicorn managed to overpower all of the castle’s magical defenses and gain access to it.” He reached for the saddlebags attached to his armor, only for him to remember that he wasn’t wearing it. “I had a case with my armor, the case designed to hold the artifact. It was a small crystal ball known as Electrum’s Orb.”

Celestia nodded, thinking. “And that brought you out here? How?”

“A unicorn who had tried to stop him gave me his description and the general path of his travel.” He smiled a bit. “Frankly, he wasn’t that difficult to track once I got a map of the surrounding area. There was really only one place that he could go to, and that was here.”

Both Celestia and Luna glanced at each other, exchanging worried looks. Celestia, however, quickly refocused herself on Hurricane, although she watched Luna with one eye. “And this unicorn... he looked like a thestral, did he not.” It wasn’t really a question. She knew the obvious answer, and together her and Hurricane both looked towards Luna.

The darker mare appeared genuinely surprised, however. “Seventh Brother? I was unaware that he had left the mountain. I will need to have a word with him.”

“Bring him up,” Celestia not-so-gently encouraged. “Perhaps we should all have a word with him.”

Luna glanced at her sister, her expression uncomfortable, before nodding. Her horn lit up in a shimmering blue aura, then extinguished itself a second later. “It is done. He shall be joining us shortly.”

Hurricane’s hoof tapped little clicks on the stone floor as the three of them waited in silence. Eventually, the pegasus turned to Celestia. “My Lady… Celestia,” he began. The white alicorn turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “How long have you and Luna been here, cut off from the rest of ponykind? Or a better question, why?”

Celestia angled her head, confused. “I thought we had already explained our purpose for remaining here.”

The commander shook his head. “I don’t mean why you’ve stayed here. I mean, why have you never come to us before? When the Compact system was failing and we were starving, dying, why didn’t you come then?” His gaze hardened. “You told me that you speak with the souls of the dead. If that’s true, then you heard about what was happening way out there.”

“Yes, we knew,” Luna said, taking a seat by the commander. “But we do not intervene with ponies. Not anymore. There was a time when we were somewhat present in the affairs of the tribes. It is how we made our way into each of your pantheons, I imagine.” She looked away, and Hurricane saw her wings twitch at a painful memory. “But that time passed, and we withdrew from ponykind after an attempt to unite the races into what you’ve accomplished now. With the pegasi flying east, the crystal ponies fleeing west, and the unicorns attempting to dominate the earth ponies…” she shrugged, and a pained expression flashed across her face. “My sister and I were disheartened. No matter what we tried, we couldn’t achieve any sort of peace for you. We realized it would take something even more powerful than us to accomplish that goal.”

“Time,” Celestia finished for her sister. But Hurricane didn’t hear her. Instead, he was fixated on Luna’s face, unable to blink, trying to comprehend what she had said.

“Lūn,” Hurricane breathed, relapsing into her Cirran name. “What did you say about… about the pegasi?”

Luna cocked her head. “The pegasi? I said they flew to the east, driven from their homes.” She paused, noticing the commander’s expression. “What do you—?”

“West,” Hurricane interjected. “We flew west. Not east. The Usurper destroyed our home, remember?” He realized that his wings were trembling. Part of him wanted to fly back to Everfree and forget everything he had heard and everything he was likely going to hear.

Celestia made such a tiny gasp that Hurricane almost didn’t notice it. “Luna… they don’t—”

A knock on the door interrupted her, and the dark face of a unicorn thestral appeared in the doorframe. “Mistress? You called for me?”

Twister paced back and forth in front of the old church, its ash-blackened face seemingly watching her from hollow windows above. Tiny shards of glass crunched under her horseshoes as she ground them into the dust. Every so often she looked around, making sure that nopony was observing her from any of the abandoned side streets. Under the setting sun to the west, the hustle and bustle of Everfree’s closing markets and vendors still produced a small din which managed to slink its way into her ears. The furry appendages twitched at the noise, and Twister tugged the hood further down over her face.

The flutter of wings caused her to stiffen, and she stood stock still for a few seconds. Forcing her shoulders to relax, the Cirran turned towards the burnt-out face of the church, gazing upon it for a few seconds before lowering her head in feigned reverence. Out of the shadows of her hood, she looked towards the newcomer.

It was Pan Sea, just as she expected him. He took a step forward then stopped, obviously not recognizing Twister and being held from approaching her for his usual fear of strangers. With a deep sigh of relief, Twister lifted her head and flung back the hood of her robe. “Pan Sea.”

Pan Sea’s eyes widened. “Twister! I didn’t think it was you at first.,” he said, quickly cantering the remaining distance towards her. He stopped and looked at her robe. “What’s with the disguise?”

Twister looked around her one more time , then put a hoof on Pan Sea’s back and began to shepherd him towards the church. “I didn’t want to be followed. Come on, come on. It’s safe to talk inside.”

She left little room for Pan Sea to argue, and within a few seconds she had safely shut the heavy iron door behind them. Taking a few last seconds to wind down, the mare gestured to Pan Sea with a wing and began to walk deeper into the church. “What did you find?”

Pan Sea looked around the ashy ruins of the church and the dusty sunlight pouring in from the holes in the roof and shuddered. “Queen Platinum happened to be with him when I stopped by. They were talking about government and politics and the like.” There was a crunch under his hoof. Lifting it up, he saw the blackened skeleton of a rat clinging to it. With a small squeak he shook the bones off and scurried closer to Twister. “Why did we have to meet here of all places? Isn’t your office safe enough?”

“I caught a unicorn snooping around my office the yesterday,” Twister grumbled. “I don’t know how he got in or what he was doing there, but I know it wasn’t anything good.” Skirting a pile of charred debris, she finally came to a stop near the scorched altar. “I’m going to have Star Swirl look at it later, but I’m pretty sure that he was placing listening spells around the room. I don’t need any of this getting into the wrong hooves.”

“Still though,” Pan Sea whined, trying to find someplace modestly clean enough to stand in. “Why here? Why not one of the parks or something by the river? This place gives me the creeps.”

“It’s the only place nopony would think to look,” Twister commented. She wandered over to one of the stained glass windows and poked her head out between the shattered panels, still wary of any followers. “Burnt down churches have that sort of vibe that keeps ponies away, you know?”

Pan Sea swallowed, all too familiar with the feeling. He fought the urge to open his wings as apprehension slowly washed over him, seemingly dripping onto his back along with the fine granules of dusty ash that fell from the vaulted and charred ceiling. The shafts of dusty light that pierced the marred frescoes and tarnished chandeliers fell on piles of crushed and burnt wood, flattened pews, and shattered glass. A magnificent golden dish, the representation of the sun and the holy icon for Celeste and Her followers, lay bent and broken in the corner, its face covered with soot. It was a shame that the church had been razed during the first riot all those months ago; while not a follower himself, Pan Sea still respected Celeste as befitting of a Cirran goddess. Some part of him was pained to see one of Her holy churches reduced to little more than a ruin, an afterthought on the edge of town.

Walking back towards the altar, Twister rested her forehooves on its sooty surface, her shoes making a metallic clink with the marble. “So what did they say?” she asked, leaning forward. “Please tell me I’m mistaken about Greenleaf. I don’t want to have to tell Clover that her father’s behind all of this.”

Pan Sea shifted uncomfortably. “He and Platinum were talking about who would take over the Legion if both Hurricane and Typhoon were dead. Platinum sounded fairly convinced that Typhoon was dead.”

Twister’s wings twitched. “…What?” She shook her head. “No, Platinum can’t be behind this. She wouldn’t topple herself, and she knows that the only thing propping her up is Hurricane and the Legion.”

“Then what do you think is going on?” Pan Sea asked, leaning forward. “If Platinum’s not behind any of this, then what does that mean?”

The Legatus thought for a moment. “Did they say anything else?”

“They talked a lot about trying to reform the Legion and trying to install somepony closer to their interests in Hurricane’s stead. Chiseled Gem?” The stallion thought for a moment, when suddenly his eyes lit up. “Oh! I remember him. He was the unicorn leading River Rock’s scattered resistance when the commander and I arrived in the Diamond Kingdom after cleaning up Cloudsdale. He seemed like a likeable stallion and competent officer.”

Twister frowned. “Chiseled Gem’s always been close to the royal family as one of the Diamond Guard’s captains. He might be a decent pony at heart, but he’ll still bend to the queen’s wishes.” She shudder and looked away. “And we both know how his son turned out.”

“If Typhoon hadn’t have killed him already, I might have put the sword through his neck for her,” Pan Sea stated resolutely. “I never met him, but the stories she’s told me… ugh.” He shuddered, causing his bladed wings to rattle against his armored sides. “At least she loves Tempest. The little colt’s adorable, and he’ll make a great legionary someday.”

Twister nodded. “I’ve been doing what I can to keep him distracted while Pathfinder and Iron Rain try to find Typhoon. I’ve got him thinking that his mom is on a secret mission for the Legion and won’t be back for a week or two. Still,” she shrugged, shaking her head forlornly, “he won’t buy it forever. I’d like to never have to come to the point when he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, that’s… yeah.” Pan Sea finished with a small shake of his head. “But what does this all mean? What are we going to do about it?”

“From what I can tell, it’s a power grab, plain and simple,” Twister said. “Platinum’s always been at odds with Hurricane ever since we moved to the Compact Lands. Even though they mostly resolved their differences five years ago, she still would rather do without him.” The mare sighed and pinched a hoof to her brow. “By putting somepony loyal to her and the unicorns in my brother’s place, she’ll be securing two of Equestria’s three executive seats. With that sort of power, she can veto a sizeable portion of the bills that we pass in Parliament, unless we can put together something greater than a two-thirds majority with almost every resolution—and that’s with Puddinghead’s support, too, but the queen more or less has him whipped.”

Pan Sea paused, trying to reason through Twister’s logic. “So what you’re saying is that Queen Platinum likely isn’t behind this, but she’s taking the opportunity to capitalize on it and accomplish her own goals?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Twister noted with a slight bob of her head. “Platinum didn’t start the riots—she loved her husband, and she was devastated when he died—but she’s a politician, and a politician’s first job is to advance the interests of their constituents.”

“I thought a politician’s first job was to look out for the nation?” Pan Sea asked

Twister’s laugh was absolutely devoid of any mirth, replaced with a sad sarcasm. “Hah, that’s what we tell you, and you believe it. It’s easier to get things done that way—there’s less public interference then.” She shook her head, smiling. “Let me ask you this, Pan Sea. When you voted for me for my Parliament seat—and don’t you tell me that you didn’t—did you actually know what I was campaigning on?”

Pan Sea flustered, his cheeks beginning to drift towards the red end of the spectrum. “Uh… I mean… change and that sort of thing?”

Twister flashed her teeth in an amused smile. “Yes, change, a staple of any politician’s rhetoric. I never really said what I was going to change, just that I was going to do it. But that’s politics for you,” she said, opening her wings in a placating gesture. “Lying is an art, and by the gods, we’re the best at it.”

The yellow stallion suddenly felt the need to double check everything Twister had told him in the past twenty-five years against more reliable sources.

“Now, Platinum,” Twister continued, “she knows that if she takes control of Equestria’s executive branch, she can run it almost like the Diamond Kingdom. And unless the rest of us break off, which we can’t, or if she’s overthrown, which isn’t likely, there isn’t much that could stop her.” Clicking her hooves against the altar one more time, Twister pushed off and began to pace around the dais, flicking loose ash off of the priest’s magnificent chair with a wing. “Now, I have no doubt that Platinum wants to see Equestria survive as it is. If I’m good at reading ponies, and I like to believe that I am, I can tell from looking at her that she has nothing but Equestria’s best interests at heart.”

Pan Sea gave Twister the courtesy of a few seconds before stepping forward. “But…”

“But,” Twister continued, flashing Pan Sea a worried glance, “she wants to do it her way. She’s not used to taking orders from equals or other ponies outside of her family. She’s very much a ‘my way or the high way’ kind of mare. Hurricane’s been able to keep that somewhat in check, but she’s a good deal of years his younger, and unicorns live much longer than us pegasi do.” She chuckled, shrugging her wings as she added as an aside, “What do we normally live to be, sixty at most? And that’s from old age, too. The unicorns live to be around eighty or ninety, and the earth ponies easily post triple digit numbers. But I guess that’s in our nature; live fast, live hard, and don’t regret anything when your time comes. Our lives are too short for that.”

The Legatus then frowned and strode back to the altar. “But like I was saying, Platinum is going to outlive my brother, you, and me by a few decades. Sooner or later, she’ll get the control she wants. She can be a great force for Equestria’s future, or she could lead us astray. I think part of the reason why my brother can even tolerate her is because he knows this as well. Unless somepony helps guide her sense of duty and helps her to shake off her misguided preconceptions, she’ll mistakenly lead this nation to ruin one way or the other.”

Picking up a small rock near the altar, the mare held it out before Pan Sea. “Platinum is like this rock, you see. The perfect size to put in a sling. It has the power to change the world; it can do incredible things if used properly, like kill a pony. But it’s not going to kill anypony without somepony else to aim it and give it the force it needs to break a skull.” She tossed the rock aside, letting it clatter across the ash-stained ground. “Likewise, that same rock can be used against friends instead of enemies, based on who grabs it and who slings it. Unless somepony helps guide Platinum and gives her the push she needs to do what’s right, she could be forced in the wrong direction and end up killing Equestria with no intention of doing so.”

Pan Sea walked over to where Twister had tossed the rock and scooped it up with his wing. “And you’re saying that somepony else already has their hooves on this rock—on Platinum,” he said, turning the stone over in his hoof.

Twister nodded. “It certainly seems that way. I don’t know what’s going on with her or how Greenleaf fits into this whole thing, but I need to know for sure before I make any further plans.” Walking around the altar, she took Pan Sea’s hoof and placed a small silver pendant in it. “I want you to figure out where Greenleaf’s allegiance lies. I want to trust him, but oftentimes we’re not given these luxuries.”

The centurion looked at the brooch. “What is this?”

“The symbol of the rebels,” Twister informed him, tapping it lightly. “Iron Rain found it on a bunch of the bodies that Typhoon’s squad had left behind. Keep an eye out for it; if you see anypony wearing this on their clothes, let me know immediately. But don’t ask about it; this only works if the rebels assume that we haven’t caught on yet.”

Pan Sea blinked and pocketed the brooch. “Of course, Twister. I’ll do my best.” He smiled, and his wings relaxed a hair. “Nopony ever really notices a soldier in a state like this, anyway.”

The mare smiled and patted Pan Sea on the back with a wing. “Good hunting, Pan Sea. Let’s… let’s just hope we can get something good out of this whole affair. We can’t afford another setback. Not now.” She looked wistfully out the eastern window, where the dark hues of dusk were beginning to settle over Equestria. The somber shadows of the passing clouds settled peacefully over sleeping towers of stone, and the first winking lights of torches and candles appeared within their windows. It was such a tranquil feeling, a feeling seemingly too good for Equestria to ever experience.

“Not after we’ve come this far.”

“I hate this.”

“Now, honey, it’s only for a little—”

“I hate you.”

“Dear, that’s just the pride talking. Be a big girl and put it on.”

“No.”

“Honey…”

“Fuck off.”

“Look, it’ll be a whole lot easier if you’d just stop squirming.”

“Fine!” Legate Iron Rain hissed, taking the tattered cloak from Pathfinder. With an angry glare, she dropped the coarse and rotting fabric over her body in place of her usual armor and shifted uncomfortably as her wings sought—and failed—to find openings for them. She shuddered and cast him one last hateful glare. “I loathe you.”

“Not what you said last night,” Finder said with a mischievous smile. The stallion was donning a similarly weathered poncho of his own, although he had given himself the opportunity to cut wing slits in his own attire. His forest green feathers had been splattered with dirt and caked with mud to try and blend in with the ponies of the slums. He had even gone so far as to have Rain cut away his mane with a dagger to make it look like he was fighting lice. Glancing at the mirror in the building on the Legion’s side of the Choke, he was shocked by the pony he saw in the glass. He looked like something life had chewed up and spat out. He only hoped it’d be good enough to pass for a resident of Everfree’s slums.

Well, he’d find out sooner or later based on who tried to kill him.

He glanced to Rain, who was busying herself by rolling in the muck in the street, making sure it was plastered to her body and clothes. After what had happened to Typhoon and her centurions, Finder knew better than to make the same mistake twice. Any soldier higher than a lowly private was marked and attacked in the slums, and it’d be impossible to remain inconspicuous in full armor anyways. The only way he and Rain had a shot at finding what the rebels did to Typhoon was to make sure that they didn’t know to stay quiet around him.

Scrambling to her hooves, Rain trotted over to Finder, growling in disgust. “And you won’t even let me take my sword. You know it was punishable by death in Nimbus to steal another pony’s family weapon?” She shook her head, her eyes burning holes in Finder’s coat. “At least I can keep Mary,” she said, toying with the bucknife she sheathed against her chest, “and Sinistra and Dextra.” Her wings shifted under her cloak, and Finder could hear the small scraping of wingblade scales gliding past each other.

“First off, we’re married, so technically it would be my weapon too. Second off, you stole that sword from a dead griffon,” Finder replied, pointing to the massive weapon laid bare on the table in the checkpoint near them. “Besides, there’s no place for you to hide your sword, and we don’t want the same welcoming party that Typhoon got.”

Rain frowned. “Really? I do, actually. It’ll be nice to kill something, for a change.”

“If you go finding trouble on purpose, I’m just going to leave you to your fate,” Finder said, shaking his head. “Stupidity isn’t worth dying over.”

“Pffft. Like you’d ever leave me in trouble,” the mare said, rubbing her grimy side against Finder’s wing.

“If you’re trying to get yourself killed, then who am I to stop you?” Finder retorted with a smile.

“And that’s why Cirrans aren’t any fun,” Rain drawled with a roll of her eyes. “Live fast and die young; that’s what any true pegasus should hope for.”

Finder sighed and walked away. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I’m more than happy to grow old and live out the rest of my days with a tankard in one hoof and a grandkid in the other.”

Iron Rain shook her head in disappointment. “Careful what you wish for, Finder. The gods love fucking with us however they can. You’re going to regret saying that one day.”

Finder paused, and his eyes darkened. “I’ve had my fair share of regrets. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t see her face. Carver and I talk about what happened some nights, but others…” he gave a weak shrug of his wings. “I’ll never forgive myself for what happened… what it came down to.”

Rain bit her lip, then quietly moved to Finder’s side and nuzzled him. “It was the only way her story could end, Finder. I understand what was going through her head, and I sympathize with her. I’d be lying to say that the same thoughts weren’t going through my own head at the time.”

The scout centurion glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Now he didn’t want to go into the slums and do this. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball back home and forget about life for a while, but he couldn’t. His happiness wasn’t what mattered here; Typhoon’s life was on the line, and her life was far more important than his. And he made a promise to Twister that he’d do whatever he could to find the missing Praetorian. Not just to Twister; his promise to the Cirran Legatus was also a promise to Tempest that he’d find the little colt’s mommy. He couldn’t live with himself if he was too slow to save her because of his own self-pity.

As Pathfinder began to walk down the street towards a less-trafficked section of the Choke, Rain cast one last forlorn look at her abandoned sword and locked the checkpoint behind her. “Maybe another day,” was all she muttered to the abandoned sword, her voice filled with sadness. Finder simply turned and watched her from a distance, an amused smile on his face.

“Let it go, Rain,” Finder said patting her on the back as she passed by. “Don’t worry about your baby, we’ll be back soon enough.”

Rain sighed. “I love that sword.”

“Yes, I know,” Finder said, shaking his head. “You loved it more than our firstborn. The poor filly was always so jealous of mommy’s weapon.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t grow up with dolls, Finder,” Rain countered, levelling a glare at him. “That sword was my childhood.”

“Mmm.”

The two disguised soldiers walked side by side until Finder found a suitable point to cross the Choke. Tall, stone buildings covered the narrow streets, and not a pony was to be seen as the light slowly died with the setting sun in the west. Stopping by the corner, Finder leaned around the side of a building and squinted, looking for any signs that they were being watched.

“I still don’t get why you get to have you wings open,” Rain growled. Underneath her coat, her wings struggled to settle flat and naturally against her sides. “I don’t like getting pinned on the ground.”

“You’re too recognizable, legate,” Finder noted, placing extra emphasis on Iron Rain’s rank. “Hiding your wings and disguising you as an earth pony was the only way that you could waltz right into the slums with me. Or would you rather I go alone?” He glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

Rain frowned and took out her frustration on a little pebble, kicking it across the street. “Did I mention that I hate you?”

“Love you too, honey,” Finder replied with a cheery smile. Then he turned his attention back to the Choke, double-checking that it was safe to cross. With a wave of his wing, he signaled to Rain, and the two ponies galloped across the street together. When they were safely on the other side and hidden in the burnt-out storefront of an old tailor’s store, Finder paused and peered through a hole in the wall into the center of Everfree’s slums.

“What now?” Rain asked, sidling up next to him.

“We look for anypony wearing one of these,” Finder said, reaching a hoof into the folds of his robe. He pulled out a silver brooch and passed it to Rain, who took it carefully in her hooves. “Anypony wearing it is from the same group that attacked Typhoon.”

Rain sneered and passed the brooch back to Finder. “I remember these things. They were all over the bodies that Typhoon’s group left behind. What do you think it’s supposed to be?”

“Haven’t the faintest,” Finder said, pocketing the brooch again. “If we manage to catch one of the rebels, maybe we can ask him.”

“Ask him. Right,” Rain grinned. Her hoof traced along her buck knife, Mary, which she kept hidden under her tattered robes near her left wing.

Finder regarded his wife for a few moments before shaking his head, sighing. “Honey, if you get us killed, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of eternity.”

“I’ll be dead too, dumbass,” Rain retorted, a coy glint in her eye.

“Then I’ll kill myself again in the Great Skies so I can haunt you in the afterlife,” Finder countered without missing a beat. Flicking his ear towards the center of town, he began to trudge deeper into the slums, doing his best to look downtrodden and irritable.

Rain quickly scampered up to his side, walking so close that their rags were brushing. “You’re so worried about them noticing me,” she hissed into his ear, watching the gray forms wandering to and fro with a wary eye, “but what about yourself?”

Finder rolled his eyes and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the folds of his clothing. “Me? I just look like your average, everyday drunkard.” He capped the statement off with a healthy dose of alcohol. Wiping his lips on his foreleg, he carefully sequestered the bottle back inside his poncho. “Anypony talks to me, they’ll smell alcohol. Legionaries don’t drink.” He walked a few steps more, then paused, glancing at an unconvinced Iron Rain. He sighed, and his wings drooped a few inches. “Fine. How about this?”

The stallion closed his eyes and focused for a few seconds. The effect was subtle, but it did cause Rain to hesitate with her steps for a split second. Before her eyes, Finder’s forest green coat turned a solid slate gray, and his graying mane suddenly darkened to something blacker. The fur of his coat elongated by an inch, helping to rough up his silhouette. When he opened his eyes, the pegasus looked like a whole new pony.

Rain shook her head. “You know it’s creepy when you do that, right?”

“Can’t look as weird as it feels,” Finder grunted, teasing his new appearance with a hoof. “Earth Empatha might be rare in the Legion, but all the best scouts can use it. The camouflage comes in handy.”

“So does a sword,” Rain muttered, still feeling sore over having to leave her weapon behind. “But to each their own, I suppose.”

Finder would have answered her, but ponies passing a few feet in front of him forced him to shut his mouth. Looking around, he and Rain found themselves in the slums’ central market, complete with all sorts of spoiled or stolen goods. Ponies moved around without rhyme or reason, seemingly milling around for the sake of something to do. It would be easy to get lost in the crowd, so Finder reached out with a wing filled with gray feathers and wrapped it around Rain’s shoulders. The two pegasi carefully navigated their way to the center of the market square, stopping by a cracked marble fountain. Whatever water that was left in the thing had turned into a disgusting brown sludge. Finder couldn’t imagine ponies trying to drink from it.

“Keep an eye out for the brooch,” Finder whispered to Rain while his keen eyes searched through the crowd swirling around them, “and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Rain gestured with her head to a guard tower erected near the Choke and the pegasi watching the slums from within. “Think they’ll help out if shit goes south?”

Finder chuckled. “Do we look like legionaries, Rain? You know better than I how the Legion would react if they saw a scuffle going on down here.”

The mare scowled and turned in place, going back to hunting for brooches. “Not after what happened to Commander Typhoon,” she said, answering her own question. “At least, not without a century’s worth of soldiers behind them.”

“Right; like I said, no sudden movements, and let’s see if we can get through this in one p—”

His words were cut off as an enormous earth pony stallion bumped into him. The contact was casual, but the brute carried enough mass to send Finder stumbling backwards. The behemoth paused and looked over his shoulder, regarding Finder with a lazy and annoyed glare. “Watch it,” the pony growled, neglecting the fact that he was the one who had bumped into Finder.

At his side, Finder felt Rain tense and heard the small zipping sound of feathers sliding against each other. He reached out a hoof to stabilize himself against his wife and to hold her back, and he opened his wings in apology. “Soary, sir. ‘Twon’t ‘appen ag’in, Ah promise.”

The stallion snorted and turned around, flicking his mangy and dirty tail across Finder’s nose as he did so. With a short roll of his shoulders, the brute adjusted the heavy gray cloak he wore draped across his shoulders and pushed through the crowd, forcing the ponies in his path to step out of the way or be crushed underhoof.

“…That was close,” Finder mumbled when the behemoth was a safe distance away. Turning to Rain, his smile faded when he saw her begin to follow. “Rain? What is it?”

“He was wearing one of the brooches,” she dully answered, her eyes never leaving the stallion’s massive figure.

Finder faltered. “Uh… you sure? I mean, I didn’t get a good look at him when he was inches away from crushing me to a bloody paste, but—”

“I saw it,” Rain interrupted, not changing her course nor slowing down. “He’s with them.”

“Eh heh… maybe we can find somepony a little scrawnier to follow?”

Rain rolled her eyes and swatted Finder with her tail. “Don’t be such a baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He’s huge!” Finder hissed, trotting to stay by Rain’s side.

“Yeah; I want to see how big of a crater he’s gonna leave when he falls.”

“But… but…” Finder’s ears flattened against his head as his wife continued unabated. With a sigh, he swiftly trotted after her. “I’m going to regret this,” he grumbled to himself as he and Rain followed in the stallion’s wake.

Maintaining about a twenty-foot distance behind the earth pony, Finder began studying his target. The pony was big, at least four foot at the shoulder, with a thick and shaggy brown coat that was mottled and matted into a haven for lice. Mud clung to the long hairs trailing at his fetlocks, and every time he lifted a hoof Finder could see the rusty horseshoes filed down to jagged ends. Spikes protruded half an inch from a recess in the bottom of the steel; getting bucked by one of them was going to leave a pony with a lot more than broken bones.

Finder scoffed. Like broken bones weren’t bad enough. He was pretty sure the behemoth could kick down a brick wall with ease. Almost all his weight was muscle, wrapped around a sturdy frame with bones as dense as iron. The centurion had no idea what sort of slop the slums managed to scrape together to feed a pony that big. But for all he knew, the stallion could have been living off of granite. Taking another peek at his target, it certainly looked that way to Finder.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Rain whispered. Before Finder could deign to answer, the stallion abruptly turned and sauntered over to a market stall in heavy, thundering steps. Raising an eyebrow, Finder and Rain exchanged a look before slipping into the crowds after him.

If the mare behind the stall didn’t notice the massive stallion approaching through the crowd, the crack his hoof made when it collided with the wooden counter certainly gained her attention. With a small shriek, the pegasus mare scrambled to attention, her wings quivering with each panting breath. “Oh! Uh, hey, Steel! I didn’t think you’d be back—or I mean, not this soon, or—”

“Shut it, Marigold,” the stallion ordered in his low rumble. The mare immediately snapped her mouth closed and backed away, struggling to keep her wings from shaking. Finder could actually see the sweat pouring off of her brow. Leaning forward, the brute of a pony sneered in the merchant’s face. “Did you scrape together the order yet?”

The mare’s throat bobbed as she stalled for an answer. “Oh, of course, Steel, of course I did! I’m just, uh, waiting for my delivery pony to bring them here!” She nodded emphatically, desperately trying to convince the pony looming across from her. “I’ll let you know when that happens, okay?” She smiled, but the nervous shifting of her eyes betrayed her terror. “Right, St—?”

Finder actually jumped at the speed which Steel’s hoof connected with Marigold’s face. The way the brute moved made it seem like hardly more than a lazy motion, but the crack of hoof meeting skull and Marigold’s cry of pain as she dropped to the ground told Finder it was anything but. Scowling, Steel took a step back from the stall and glared at the sniveling mare. “Get up.”

Rain tensed next to Finder, and the pegasus quickly had to stay his wife with a wing. “Don’t,” he hissed, watching Marigold slowly work her hooves back under her. “We can’t lose our lead.”

“Fuck this guy,” Rain growled, and Finder could feel her bladed wings twitching under her robes. “Let me introduce him to Sinistra and Dextra. We’ll see who’s going to cry like a bitch then.”

“You dragged me along to follow him, now we aren’t going to stop until we’re done,” he hissed. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you introduce him to Mary when it’s over.”

The idea seemed to placate Rain, and Finder inched the two of them closer to the stall. Marigold’s face was already swelling, and blood ran down her left cheek from where the brute’s hoof had punched it. Shuddering, she tried to blink away her tears, sniffling through her broken nose. The scene had briefly attracted the attention of nearby ponies, but after seeing the size of Steel, most simply turned away and left the unfortunate flower merchant to her fate.

“This isn’t some sort of joke,” Steel growled. He casually examined his hoof and the blood that spattered the rusty shoe clinging to it. “The mistress needs this order by tomorrow at the absolute latest. And you told me you could pull it together, and I promised her I’d have it ready by then.” He snarled, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. “I do not like being made a fool of, especially to her.”

“Please, Steel,” Marigold whimpered, shying away from the stallion’s glare. “I’ve been doing the best that I can! But the Legion… it’s hard to get into their stores even on the best of days! I’ve got a shot lined up for tonight, but I don’t think I’ve got the muscle to get in and out on my own!”

Steel snorted. “The entire reason I came to you, Marigold, was because you promised me you were quick and quiet. That you’d be in and out before anypony knew you were there.” He leaned closer, and Marigold recoiled from his acrid breath. “If that’s not the case, then we’re done with you.”

Marigold’s yellow-orange coat suddenly paled, and she desperately ran a hoof through her brown mane. “Steel Plow, please, be reasonable! Look, I’ll—I’ll have them tonight!” she whimpered. “I’ll get them for you! Just tell me when and where to meet you, and I’ll be there!”

The stallion’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Two o’clock by the Maressissippi. Bring the order, and don’t be late.”

The pegasus nodded. “Of course! Don’t worry, I’ll be there. Six swords, ten daggers, two shields, and diamond gemstones. I know a storehouse that has all of them!”

“Ten swords. Twelve daggers. Three shields.”

“What?!” Marigold exclaimed, stepping back. “That wasn’t part of the deal! Five hundred bits for six swords, ten daggers, two shields, and some diamond gemstones! You can’t just change it like that!”

Steel Plow tapped his hoof against the counter one last time for emphasis. “Ten, twelve, and three. As many gemstones as you can find.” He stepped back, shedding one last dangerous glare in Marigold’s direction. “We’ll kill your oldest and throw her body in the river if you’re not on time. Then your son five minutes later.” He blinked, watching Marigold stiffen like a corpse. “We’ll save the foal for when you finally do arrive. If you have everything, then maybe we’ll give her back to you. Otherwise, we’ll send her back one piece at a time.”

“My children…” Marigold whispered. Her eyes were wide and not seeing anything. “What did you do to my children?!” she wailed, slamming her hooves against her temples. “What did you do?!”

The stallion remained unmoved. “Two o’clock, Marigold.” He turned and walked away, but stopped before he was out of earshot. “And I wouldn’t bother going back home. The Legion’s looking for a pony that matches your name and description who murdered a soldier on patrol there.” Then he turned and forced his way through the crowd, his head bobbing with each heavy step.

The merchant watched him go, trying to remain composed and indignant. Her lip quivered, however, and just a few seconds later she broke down and collapsed against her stall, bawling.

Both Finder and Rain saw the stallion moving away from them, his figure growing smaller and smaller with every lengthy stride, yet neither of them followed. Instead, they stood to the side as Marigold heaved and shook against her stand. Her face buried in her forelegs, the mare trembled and sobbed, trying to hide away from the world. Ponies approaching her stall hoping to do business took one look at her and awkwardly moved someplace else.

“He’s getting away,” Finder muttered, but not taking a step forward.

“Yeah,” Rain growled, watching him go. Then her attention turned to the broken mare behind the stall. Both her and Finder exchanged a quick glance. Nodding, the two ponies abandoned their pursuit of Steel Plow and paced up to the merchant’s stand.

Finder cleared his throat and approached first, with Rain slightly behind him. “Uh… Marigold, was it?” When the mare didn’t respond, he bit his lip and gingerly touched her shoulder with a hoof. “I’m really sorry—”

“Get away!” Marigold shrieked, suddenly jerking away and holding her shoulder like Finder’s touch had burnt it. “Go away! We’re c-closed! Just… just leave me alone!”

Finder quickly recoiled as the mare tried her best to scare him away with a furious stare. Tears stained her coat as they ran from her pink and puffy eyes, and her wings were held open in a desperate and primal fear. Some sort of crude mascara bled from beneath her eyes, yet despite that, Finder realized she was an exceedingly beautiful mare. The idea was kind of shocking to him; he didn’t expect anything beautiful could survive in Everfree’s slums.

Rain stepped forward where her husband faltered. “This Steel guy, you know him?”

Marigold looked between the two of them with hurt and confusion. “What? Why?! Why do y-you want to know!” She stomped a hoof in anger. “What does this even mean to you? Why do you care?!”

The legate stepped forward and caressed Marigold’s cheek in a hoof, careful not to touch the swollen part where Steel had struck her. The merchant flinched from the touch, but didn’t slap it away. “My husband and I are both parents, Marigold,” she said calmly, quietly. “Our first died when she was twelve. Our other three are between eleven and fifteen.” Marigold was quivering, yet she kept her eyes locked with Rain’s as the fellow mother opened to her. “They mean the world to us. And it’s obvious that your children mean the world to you, too.” She took her hoof away from Marigold’s face, and the mare almost sighed with disappointment as she did. “What about your children? Would care to… tell us about them?”

Marigold was silent for the longest time. Finder was almost convinced she wasn’t going to say anything and looked over his shoulder, checking for somepony else to follow, when she finally spoke again. “My oldest is my daughter, Lavender. She’s seven, and such a sweet, sweet filly.” Tears streamed down her face, yet she didn’t heave, didn’t cry. “My son Aspen is four. He’s a unicorn, like his father. Then there’s my foal, Lilac.” She shuddered, and a faint smile tugged on her lips. “Such a tough little girl, she is. I’ve raised her by myself since she was born. My husband… wasn’t there anymore a few months into the pregnancy. Lavender and Aspen remember him, but little Lilac will never know him.”

“Your husband was a unicorn?” Finder asked, curious. “When did you get together?”

Marigold shrugged, although it was clear by the look in her eyes that she was revisiting clear and wistful memories. “Nigh on eight years ago. I was sixteen then. My momma had me almost fresh off of the Exodus. If you go by that logic, I guess I was in Dioda for a brief bit.” She giggled slightly, although she was still too weary to truly smile or laugh.

Rain simply raised an eyebrow. “You had your eldest when you were seventeen?”

“I was old enough to know what love was,” Marigold snapped, frowning. “And I’ve raised my kids to the best of my abilities all my life. I’d do anything in the world for them…” Her voice trailed off, and she shuddered. “I’m really sorry. I just… I need to go and get some things ready. I need to get my kids back, or I’ll die trying.” She quickly began to gather up her things, sorting bouquets of flowers back into buckets, and strapped her saddlebags to her flanks. Pulling out a small metal box, she dumped the meagre amount of bits she had earned that day into it and tucked it under a wing. With the feathers safely wrapping it, Finder couldn’t even tell that she had the strongbox separate from her belongings.

“Let us help you,” Rain said, slamming her hoof against the counter. The noise caused Marigold to jump and stumble back, her left wing fidgeting slightly to hold onto the strongbox. “There’s no way you can rob a Legion armory by yourself and get that many weapons to that bastard. Let the two of us help you, and maybe we can make Steel and his asshole friends pay for foalnapping your children.” Marigold looked at them hesitantly, but Rain leaned forward. “Please, Marigold. I couldn’t live this down if I walked away and something bad happened to you and your children.”

Eventually, the mare sighed and nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice almost impossible to hear, “you can come. Just… who are you?”

“Legate Iron Rain and Scout Centurion Pathfinder,” Finder stated, stepping forward proudly. When the mare took several steps backwards in shock, he shook his head and held out a hoof. “Don’t worry, we overheard everything Steel said. We know you’re innocent, and don’t you think it’ll be easier to get into a Legion armory when somepony has the key?”

Marigold watched him through narrowed eyes, her wing crests angled out and ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. Eventually, she sighed and lowered her guard, ready to either accept their help or resign to her fate. “I suppose so. But… you do realize I have to steal from you guys, right?”

“Not a problem,” Rain commented, a triumphant smirk on her face. “It’s not stealing if somepony brings ‘em back when all’s over with. Then it’s just borrowing.” She reached across the counter and slapped Marigold on the shoulder, eliciting a small yelp from the merchant. “Now, chin up! We’ll see your children safe and sound in no time. I swear on my Nimban honor.”

“And I’ll swear by whatever else you need me to,” Finder said, smiling. “I don’t really need to promise some deity something to do the right thing, anyway.”

This time, Marigold smiled and nodded a few times. “You… you’re serious!” When she saw both of them nod, she laughed, and her shoulders seemed to shed hundreds of pounds of stress. “By the gods, if angels existed, you are definitely two of them!”

Rain waved off the compliment, but Finder simply snorted. “Heh. I don’t know about my wife, but I’d make a lousy angel. I’m too fond of the bottle myself.” With that, he pulled out his whiskey and took another swig.

Marigold laughed a little laugh, then looked between the two soldiers. Already, a fierce determination was beginning to form behind her shining, teary eyes. Something in her heart told her that she could do this. Already she could imagine her children’s embraces as they returned to her.

“So,” she asked, wiping the blood from her face with a grim finality, “when do we get started?”