Step. Step. Turn. Slide. Hop. Spin. Strike. Withdraw. Breathe.

Typhoon slackened her jaw, letting the quivering tip of Hiems come to an easy rest. Her eyes narrowed on the stool that was the only complement to the single cot in her ‘cell’, and she took two steps forward, cutting through the air with precision and purpose. At least the empty room gave her enough space to practice, and neither Abaddon nor any of his Founders had interrupted her since she started almost half an hour ago. The ritual gave her time to think and helped clear her mind after everything that the unicorn had told her. It was a terrifying amount to take in, supposing it was all true… but she couldn’t deny what she remembered. Regardless of whether Abaddon was telling the truth or only part of it, there weren’t enough inconsistencies in his side of the story for Typhoon to pick out a lie. The fact that Typhoon still felt like she couldn’t trust reality anymore wasn’t helping her sanity, either.

Growling, she spun in a circle and used her momentum to split the stool in half, bringing it to the ground in two pieces.

Had Star Swirl really betrayed her? She didn’t think the old unicorn was capable of it. Or, rather, she didn’t think he would try it. He was an Archmage, and he had everything he needed to orchestrate a coup of Equestria’s military, if he so chose. And who was going to question him? The Cirrans wouldn’t, because it was well-known that he and Commander Hurricane were friends, and the unicorns and earth ponies could never see him as anything but the grandfatherly archmage who had the nation’s best interests at heart.

Typhoon sighed and collapsed on her cot. Was that what this was all about? Was Star Swirl doing this because her father, Platinum, and Puddinghead were failing?

Was he right?

Equestria was in trouble. Typhoon knew that. Everypony knew that. But what Star Swirl was doing was hardly the right way to go about it. Sheathing her sword, Typhoon kicked her hooves up and laid back down on her cot. Maybe these “Founders” would be able to give her some more information later. Right now, she was exhausted and still trembling faintly from when Abaddon had splashed water on her face. Dousing the torches with a spray of frost from her wing, Typhoon sighed and tried to get some sleep.

But no matter how tired she was, she couldn’t. She was almost afraid to go to sleep. Afraid that the next time she opened her eyes she’d be someplace else; disoriented, confused, terrified. The longer she kept her eyes shut and tried to drift off to a peaceful oblivion, the more anxious she became.

Her ears perked at the sound of her door creaking open, and she had to stop herself from crying out.. Her heart practically jumped into her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and regain some hold over her breathing. If she looked like she was sleeping, maybe she’d be left alone. She really didn’t want to deal with any more questions right now. Still, she pointed an ear towards the door.

“No lights in here,” she heard an unfamiliar voice whisper. “You sure this is the right place?”

The stranger’s voice gave way to the clopping of hooves as a pony—no, multiple ponies—entered her little room. By Typhoon’s count there were three or four of them, and each gingerly walked across the ground as if they were worried about being caught. These definitely weren’t any of Abaddon’s friends.

“Of course it is,” a different voice answered. “You saw the guards. She’s around here somewhere.” There was a rattle and a curse as one of the ponies found the split stool with his hoof. “Corona, get some light in here.”

She? So they were looking for her. Cracking one of her eyes open, she saw a dark form shuffle forward, accompanied by the rustle of feathers. A tiny ember suddenly sprung into existence on the end of a pegasus’ wing, illuminating its creator and the three ponies standing around him.

Typhoon nearly gasped. Their pauldrons all bore centurion insignias.

“There she is!” one of the centurions hissed, his eyes falling on Typhoon’s form lying on the cot. “She asleep?”

None of the other ponies responded. Instead, they silently drifted closer like ghosts, and Typhoon squeezed her eyes shut. The light stopped right above her closed eyes, and Typhoon could smell the reek of fresh blood on their armor. Still, she didn’t move, but she began to channel ice Empatha to the crest of her right wing, obscured by the rest of her body.

The almost inaudible rattle of armor signified one of the legionaries nodding. “Looks like it.” The speaker snorted, and Typhoon heard his wingblades rattle as he gestured to somepony. “Glade, you want the honors?”

The answer was a hiss of oiled steel on leather. “Sure. We’ll let Star Swirl know it was easier than he thought.”

It was all Typhoon needed to hear. Opening her left wing, she sent a spray of frost and hail hurtling at the soldiers. The four pegasi cursed and staggered back, blinded by the attack, giving Typhoon the time she needed to act. The praetorian tore out of her cot, kicked off the wall, and landed behind them. Before they could recover, Typhoon tore Hiems from its scabbard, dropping the casing at her side, and stood wide with her wings outstretched in front of the doorway.

“You,” she said simply. “You’re with Star Swirl?”

The other three ponies arrayed against her joined the centurion who already had his sword in his teeth and drew their weapons, circling to surround her. The center pony who had already drawn his weapon, an emerald stallion who Typhoon inferred was Glade, snarled at her. “Star Swirl sent us to track you down after you tried to murder your father, traitor,” he spat.

Typhoon bared her teeth. “I did not stab my father!” she screamed. “Star Swirl’s lying to you!”

“I’ll admit, I had my doubts at first,” the stallion continued, continuing to advance on Typhoon. “But the simple fact that you’re hiding with the rebels is more than enough to know you’re a traitor. I feel terrible for Commander Hurricane; both of his children turned out to be nothing but selfish and ungrateful bastards.” He paused, scowling around the sword held in his teeth. “We stopped Cyclone, and he had an army. We’ll stop you too.”

Typhoon kicked the door open wide. “I’m giving you one chance to leave. Tell Star Swirl you found me, and tell him I want to talk. I can be reasonable.”

The centurion scowled. “You want us to leave so you can escape again? You want to talk to Star Swirl so you can kill him?” He shook his head. “The only way we’re leaving is if you come with us, dead or alive.”

“I’m leaving on my own terms,” Typhoon insisted. She stepped aside from the door and pointed with a wing. “These are yours. Leave now. I won’t ask again.”

“Won’t ask again?” Glade scoffed and continued his advance. “You’re outnumbered four to one, and all you have is a sword. No wingblades, no armor. You might be good, praetorian, but you aren’t your father.” He smirked. “Although I can understand why you’re hesitant to leave; this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gotten together with a unicorn. Do you think Abaddon’s a suitable replacement for Jewel?”

“Shut! Up!!” Typhoon screamed, rearing up and stomping her forehooves on the ground. Fire and ice exploded outwards in a ring of lethally sharp icicles and tongues of flame rising from the floor. The sheer force of the Empatha blasted the centurions back and scorched the fur on their faces. The two closest to her sides cried out in pain as foot-long icicles skewered their sides through their armor, leaving them clutching at their wounds. Furious, Typhoon stomped towards the emerald centurion, her mane ablaze and her wings covered with ice.

“How dare you?! How DARE you?!!” She bent over and grabbed the dazed centurion by the neck, slamming him against the cave wall. “You don’t know what I went through! You don’t know what it’s like! To have to suffer what I’ve suffered!” Growling, she increased the pressure on the centurion’s windpipe until she was almost certain she was going to crush his windpipe entirely. “I won’t be betrayed again! Not by Star Swirl, not by the Legion, and not by anypony else!”

Her ears flicked, hearing another centurion behind her. With a scream, she spun, flinging the centurion over her shoulders. His armored body slammed against the pony leaping for her exposed back, and the two clattered to the ground in a tangle of limbs and armor. That left only the two centurions approaching from Typhoon’s right to deal with.

The first centurion swung his sword high, forcing Typhoon to duck. Twisting left, she managed to slide out from under the reversal and securing her footing before the next attack came. The second pony immediately followed up with a chop from the opposite direction, and Typhoon barely remembered through the rage clouding her judgment that she wasn’t wearing any armor to block with. Instead of instinctually raising a wing, the mare managed to contort her body to kick the centurion in the jaw before his sword could meet her flesh. The gladius went sailing off into the dark room while the stallion fell to the ground in a clattering pile of armor.

That left just one centurion standing, but he wouldn’t last long. Widening her stance, Typhoon tightened her grip on Hiems and lunged forward, the thin blue gladius meeting with the centurion’s standard-issue sword in a piercing ring of metal. The blue sword hissed as Typhoon’s Empatha poured into it, releasing a cloud of frost that froze her opponent’s lips to his sword and left him recoiling in pain. A bladed wing hurtled in Typhoon’s direction, but Typhoon was able to force it away with another burst of ice from her own wing. The shallow gouges the skysteel tore out of her impromptu wingblade healed themselves in another second.

A shout from behind her was all the warning Typhoon got before Glade struck at her. Somersaulting off her front hooves, Typhoon heard his sword bite into the ground with a crunch of stone and a spray of sparks. Her focus immediately shifted back to the staggering pony in front of her with the frozen jaw. Before he could react, her sword came down hard on his helmet. The stallion collapsed instantly, and Hiems’ blue skysteel withdrew scarlet.

Typhoon only registered her downed opponent as a number. One down, three to go. Two were behind her now, one in front of her. Flaring her wings, Typhoon propelled herself to the low ceiling, spun so her hooves made contact with the stone, and kicked off to tackle the isolated centurion. Caught off guard, the soldier wasn’t able to rally any sort of defense for Typhoon’s tackle, and the two rolled away from the emerald centurion and his companion who had provided the light.

Still, despite her momentum, the stallion she had tackled was magnitudes heavier than her in his skysteel armor. Their tumbling grapple ended when Typhoon’s back slammed against the wall, leaving the centurion to pin her down with his armor. Over his shoulder, the other two centurions galloped forward, weapons drawn and wings flared in case Typhoon managed to worm her way free. Kicking her hind legs out, Typhoon sent them reeling with a spray of icicles, buying her enough time to summon a four inch thick plate of ice over her heart right as the stallion pinning her down thrust his dagger. Without any sort of momentum behind the attack, the dagger bounced harmlessly off of the ice, and Typhoon responded by scissoring her ice-bladed wings against his neck. The wounds they inflicted weren’t deep, but they were deep enough; the centurion began to bleed out as Typhoon’s wing left his jugular, and she was able to shove the dying stallion aside and scramble back to her hooves.

Two down. Two standing. Typhoon could see fear in the centurions’ eyes, but she knew they weren’t going to retreat. Nodding to each other, the centurions circled to either of Typhoon’s sides, forcing the mare to turn and keep her wings flared so both were in sight. While she had the chance, she continued to channel Empatha to her coat, hardening her hide under several inches of ice. While it might not stop a sword swung at full force, it would at least soften the blow so she could keep fighting.

Seeing the ice materialize on Typhoon’s coat, both centurions dashed forward to try and prevent her from gaining any additional protection. Slamming her wings hard against her sides, Typhoon dove forward and out of the way. She was a tick too early, however, and both stallions were able to redirect off of one another and immediately close the gap on Typhoon. Still, their advantage was lost, as they were now both in front of her. Instead, they turned to trying to overwhelm Typhoon with attacks, fighting six blades to three.

Backpedaling, Typhoon quickly alternated her sword and her iced wings to catch the whirlwind of blades swung in her direction. Unfortunately, she had to hop back and roll to the sides too often to counterattack, and she knew that she’d tire long before the two centurions did. Slamming her shoulder against the ground to duck under a high slash of a sword, Typhoon channeled more Empatha to her sword and rolled out swinging. While her sword didn’t come close to connecting with either of the two Cirrans, ice sprayed off of the skysteel in a hail of razor sharp sheets. Most of the ice shattered on the centurions’ armor, but any bit of exposed coat was suddenly lacerated, forcing them to retreat and regroup. Typhoon likewise took the time to reinforce her coat with more ice and coat Hiems with another burst of Empatha.

She staggered a bit as she did so. She was burning through her mana reserves much too fast. If she didn’t finish the fight soon she’d wear herself down to the point of exhaustion, and it’d certainly be over then.

Seeing Typhoon stagger, the two centurions dipped into their own Empatha reserves and rushed her. One of the pair, Corona she assumed, suddenly burst into flames, rushing her like a fireball. The other, the emerald stallion who was in charge, likewise charged her, his silhouette blurring as he galloped with much more speed than he should’ve had. Gritting her teeth, Typhoon began to back towards the open door. She needed zone control to fight a fire and a wind empath, and right now she didn’t have it.

The centurions seemed to realize this, and Corona diverged to try and block the door. Stomping her hoof against the ground, Typhoon summoned a wall of ice to try and block him and fluttered to the door with her wings. The ice wall lasted all of two seconds before the fire empath burnt straight through it, while the emerald centurion, Glade, simply skirted around it without losing much in the way of momentum. Still, Typhoon was able to burst through the door and into the tunnel outside.

The door to her room came out perpendicular to a hallway running to her left and right, with a rough-hewn stone wall directly in front of her. Galloping straight at the wall, Typhoon jumped at the last possible second, planting all four hooves against the stone and rocketing herself in reverse. Spinning in midair, she tried to strike an iced wing straight through Glade’s throat. The wind empath was fast, but not fast enough; even as the stallion twisted to the side, Typhoon slammed her hind leg straight into his face, knocking him backwards.

Then the inferno was upon her. As Corona charged her, Typhoon felt like she was standing in the middle of the sun. The spray of ice shards off of Hiems into his face did nothing, and his mere presence was melting the armor off of her coat and the blades from her wings. Swinging his sword in a blind rage, Corona forced Typhoon to fly backwards down the hall just to keep away. Furiously pumping her wings, Typhoon raised what icy obstacles she could to slow Corona’s progress, but they were too weak to stop the fireball.

The hallway opened up into a wide cavern filled with stalactites hanging over a pool of murky brown water. Finally out of the claustrophobic hallways, Typhoon used the more open air to her advantage, swirling around the stalactites to keep solid stone between her and Corona. The thermals off of Corona’s wings behind her helped push her faster, keeping the mare well ahead of him. Typhoon knew she was the fastest soldier in the Legion that wasn’t a wind empath, and she’d be able to outpace Corona for days. Glade on the other hoof would be a problem, and Typhoon knew she had to deal with Corona before the wind empath rejoined the fight.

An explosion of fire nearly knocked Typhoon out of the air, and only the rapid flapping of her wings and the ricochet off of a stalactite kept her flying. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Corona, wings wreathed in fire, twist into a tight corkscrew before backflipping out. The sudden change in momentum sent a ball of fire rocketing in Typhoon’s direction, and the mare had to twist and kick off of the ceiling to get underneath the explosion before it roasted her alive. Roaring in rage, Corona flapped his wings and continued the pursuit, his wings once again building up Empatha.

A rush of air into the tunnel told Typhoon that Glade was on the verge of rejoining the fray. Looking for a solution, Typhoon picked out a thin stalactite and dove towards it, her wings flapping and building up speed the entire way. Taking a deep breath, Typhoon stretched her forelimbs out and caught the edge of the stalactite. Her momentum spun her around the stone structure until she released it, hurtling back towards Corona. Curling her body into a spinning missile, she barely had time to register the look of shock on Corona’s face before her ice-coated back slammed into his jaw. The stallion went flying backwards, his focus lost and his Empatha dissipating from his feathers, before he landed in the pool at the bottom of the cave with an unceremonious splash.

Out of the corner of her eye, Typhoon saw Glade fly towards the ceiling of the cave, searching for her. Down below, Corona was trying to make his way to the surface of the pool, his heavy armor weighing him down. Knowing that she couldn’t let the fire empath recover, Typhoon summoned whatever Empatha she could to her hooves and dropped onto the surface of the pond, almost right over Corona. Immediately the water began to freeze over, rapidly expanding out in a circle until it touched the stony shores. In a few seconds the ice was several inches thick and so ridden with frost that it was impossible to see the water underneath.

The wind ripped for a split second before Typhoon felt the bite of a sword into her flank. Ice shattered off of her hide as Glade’s sword smashed it apart and drew forth a fount of blood from the deep cut; still, Typhoon would have lost her leg entirely if the ice plating didn’t absorb some of the blow. But she couldn’t stand still to think about it long. Jumping forward, Typhoon barely escaped a series of slashes that tore colorful hairs from her tail.

Glade pressed his advantage, his wind Empatha allowing him to strike at Typhoon far faster than she could block his attacks. His sword drew a long cut down Typhoon’s side from shoulder to flank, and another slash would’ve taken her wing off if she had not thrown herself to the floor to get underneath it. A stomp from his hoof almost crushed Typhoon’s windpipe, but the mare was able to jerk her head back and freeze the patch of stone where her neck just was. When Glade’s hoof came down, the centurion slipped and fell onto his side, but by the time Typhoon scrambled back to her hooves, he was already standing again.

Distance. That was what she needed. Turning around, Typhoon quickly rose to the ceiling of the cave and stopped with her back to the wall. Glade watched her for a second, growling, before rising up to meet her.

It was just what Typhoon was hoping for. With no other way to approach her, Glade charged her in a straight line, albeit uncomfortably fast. Taking a deep breath, Typhoon sent wave after wave of frost and hail from her wings, pelting the stallion in his charge with snow and ice. Glade staggered for a moment and surged forward, but all of a sudden his speed began to bleed off like a severed artery. A glance to his wings revealed why; they were coated with ever-thickening ice, just like the rest of his limbs, weighing him down until he could hardly move. Finally unable to flap his wings any more, Glade fell to the ground with a thud, his feathers completely encased in ice.

Breathing hard, Typhoon nearly collapsed across from him when she too touched down. She’d spent nearly all her mana, and she was exhausted. Still, it was worth it; no matter how hard Glade struggled to move, he simply couldn’t. His joints were frozen solid and his wings hung like stones at his sides, completely negating the speed and ferocity his own Empatha lent him. As she staggered closer, Glade only glared at her, unable to reach a weapon or move to stop her.

Typhoon stopped a short distance away, wearily smiling. “I told you I’d give you one chance to leave.” Hiems clattered to the ground next to her, the incredibly light sword seeming almost too heavy for the mare to hold. “You should’ve listened.”

The stallion spat in her face, but Typhoon didn’t even flinch. “This isn’t the end, traitor,” he hissed, jerking his frozen limbs once more but failing to get any sort of movement out of them. “Just because you killed us doesn’t mean it’s over. Star Swirl’s going to find you, and the Legion will have its justice. You can count on that.”

Typhoon’s hoof struck him across the face. “I am not a traitor. But I know who is.” Bending down, she picked up Hiems Osculum and tucked it under her wing. “And I’m going to put a stop to him and everypony that’s working with him. No matter the cost.”

Hoofsteps echoing down the hall caused Typhoon to wearily turn her head. Cursing, she widened her stance in preparation of another fight, knowing fully well that she was hardly in the condition to fight any more. Her mana was spent and all she wanted to do was collapse into oblivion; now, she supposed she’d get it one way or another.

But the ponies that galloped out of the hallway weren’t legionaries. Typhoon almost collapsed with relief as she saw the familiar face of Abaddon leading a cadre of earth ponies and unicorns behind him, all armed with stolen Legion weapons and ill-fitting armor. There was a definite anxiety in Abaddon’s eyes until the moment he saw Typhoon still standing. That anxiety quickly turned to concern as he galloped over to the praetorian and supported her with his shoulder. “Typhoon, I-I’m sorry,” he said, leading her over to the wall where she could sit and rest. “We had no idea that they had gotten to you. We only heard the fighting from the lower levels and came as soon as we could.”

Waving a hoof, Abaddon beckoned another unicorn over, who knelt next to Typhoon and began to dress her wounds. Typhoon noticed that his usual black cloak was bloodstained as well. “You’ve been fighting?” she asked, somewhat delirious from her exhaustion and blood loss.

“There was another group that we encountered on our way here,” Abaddon said. “Four of them, all centurions. Otherwise we would’ve gotten to you sooner.”

Typhoon cursed. So it was a Cirran strike team. She’d sent out a few of the eight-pony teams in the past to accomplish dangerous missions deep within enemy territory. She was surprised Star Swirl had managed to get his hooves on one to send after her. Then again, if he was hijacking Twister’s orders, all he’d have to do was write his own and transpose Twister’s signature to the paper, which she figured wouldn’t be too hard for the Archmage to manage.

When her wounds were patched up, Abaddon helped Typhoon to her hooves. “Let’s get you back to your quarters,” he said, supporting her the entire way. “I’m going to put armed guards outside your door in case Star Swirl tries something like this again. I’ll have some of my unicorns try to see what they can get out of the one you left alive, too. We’ll need the information to stay ahead of the game.”

Setting Typhoon down on the bed, he regarded her for a moment as she collapsed against the covers. “I should get back to my companions,” he said, taking a step back. “You get your rest. I’ll see you when you’re feeling better.”

He was nearly out the door before Typhoon managed to find the strength to speak. “I want to help.”

Abaddon stopped. “Hmm?”

“I said… I said I want to help,” Typhoon said, sitting upright. “I want to put an end to this. I want to clear my name, and the only way I can do that is with your help.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m not strong enough to fight them all, to fight Star Swirl, on my own.”

Abaddon didn’t say anything to encourage her; he only nodded. “Aye. And there’ll be more the closer you get to the castle.”

“So let me help you,” Typhoon insisted. “Let me help you like you’ve helped me. All I want… all I want is to see my Tempest again. And I know you can help me do that.”

The black stallion nodded once more. “Yes, yes we can.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “But now, you need to get your sleep. If you need to find me, I’ll be down the hall to the left and down two levels. Whenever you’re recovered, come to me. We need to get packed up and move deeper into the tunnels; this location isn’t safe anymore, if Star Swirl’s minions found it.”

“Right,” Typhoon murmured, darkness starting to overtake her vision. Yawning, she shakily laid back down on her cot and shut her eyes, but keeping Hiems close by her side. Within moments, she was unconscious, snoring lightly and wings twitching in her sleep.

Abaddon watched her for a few minutes more, his blue eyes narrowing on Typhoon’s still form. Then, with a burst of green Arcana, he shut the door behind him, his hoofsteps fading away on the stone floors of the tunnels.

“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hoax? It seems way too outrageous to be true.”

Clover the Clever chuckled lightly to herself. “I’m certain, Diadem. I heard it from both Platinum and Commander Hurricane. At least he doesn’t lie, so you know it has to be true.” Still, Clover had to admit that even she was a bit—okay, very—skeptical that Celestis and Lunis themselves had come to visit Everfree. It seemed… surreal.

Diadem trotted at Clover’s side as the two mages navigated the halls to the north tower, her face scrunched deep in thought. “Still, you don’t think two goddesses would just pop on in and say hi like nothing’s going on. It just feels… feels weird, you know?”

“Mmmm,” Clover hummed, glancing at the teal filly. “Although maybe it’s the opposite.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe they’re here because of everything that’s going on,” Clover explained. “The riots especially. This is the first time in who knows how long that all three races of ponies have unified under one banner. Maybe they’re trying to help us so that we don’t lose everything we’ve accomplished in these past five years.”

“But what about the crystal ponies? Don’t they count?”

“I…” Clover’s mouth moved silently as she searched for her voice. “Well, I suppose so. But they have their own unity, separate from us. And from what I’ve heard from Smart Cookie, they’re admittedly doing much, much better by themselves than our three races are together.”

“Why does their system work so much better than ours?” the filly asked, looking up at Clover. “If they’ve got it all figured out, can’t we borrow a few of their ideas?”

“Uh… I mean, we could, and Smart Cookie—”

“Or maybe we could ask for their help, too,” Diadem continued. “We could share ideas and open borders and everything! It’d be great for both of our countries!”

Sighing, Clover rolled her eyes and gave Diadem a small smile. “I think that’s enough about politics for now, Diadem,” she said. “I don’t know much about them myself. If you really want to waste your time focusing on them instead of your studies, you can talk with Twister later.”

“Meh, politics are kinda dumb anyways.”

“I’ve always thought so,” Clover agreed. The two unicorns rounded a corner, taking note of the increasing number of legionaries at this part of the castle. “Ten, fifteen, twenty years ago, Queen Platinum was not the same mare she is today.”

Diadem blinked. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” Clover answered. “Before you met her in Onyx Ridge, she was very selfish and childish.” At Diadem’s incredulous expression, Clover chuckled. “Back then, I was just her hoofmaiden. I had to clean up for her and do her makeup; give her baths and be something for her to talk at whenever she felt like it. Talk at, mind you. She almost never wanted to hear my opinion unless I was agreeing with her.”

The filly frowned. “But she didn’t seem like that in Onyx Ridge.”

“Because she wasn’t, Diadem. When it was just the two of us out in the wilderness together, she realized just what she was missing her entire life. She realized what it was like to have a friend.” Nostalgia pulled Clover’s lips up in a smile. “I think my fondest memory of that whole journey was lying under the stars with her, pointing out the constellations and having an honest, friendly talk with each other. I wasn’t something to talk at anymore; I was somepony to talk to.

“And that’s why I hope that these ponies really are Celestis and Lunis; Platinum’s been through so much these last few years, and I’ve been praying to them every night to help her in some way. Maybe my prayers have finally been answered.”

At last the large door to the north tower stood before them, closed, barred, and with eight legionaries standing in front of it. At Clover’s and Diadem’s mere approach, however, the soldiers all stepped to the side without a word and opened the door for them. Thanking the pegasi, Clover trotted through the door with Diadem slowly entering after her, distracted by the legionaries and their armor. It’d been five years since the filly had gotten to see Cirran legionaries up close, but still she gawked at them whenever she had the chance. If it weren’t for Clover and Star Swirl tightly regimenting her arcane studies, Clover was certain the filly would run off to the Legion when she finally became old enough.

There was nopony in the main room of the tower, but Clover’s ears picked up the sounds of conversation from the balcony to the right. Beckoning Diadem to follow her, she began to walk in that direction, and the filly’s hooves clopped against the stone floor as she bounded to catch up with her mentor. A solid thud startled both unicorns for a second as the door shut behind them, but after only a moment’s hesitation, they continued.

“…Mars being particularly lovely this past cycle. And Jasper’s comet is supposed to make a pass in the next three months, if my calculations are correct.” It was Star Swirl’s voice, the elderly unicorn speaking with a restrained passion he reserved for talking about the night sky. It was a passion Clover had been blessed to hear often; not many other ponies ever got to listen to him discuss the night.

“Star Swirl?” Clover asked as she rounded the corner. “Are you here to meet—!”

Her voice fled as she finally saw them before her. Star Swirl sat at a table, his hat resting on a chair next to him and his beard finely combed. Across from him was a tall mare of the deepest blue, with a mane that shimmered and flowed like the night sky. Her teal eyes slid from Star Swirl to Clover, and with a faint nod, stood up from the table. “Greetings. You must be Clover the Clever and Diadem. Star Swirl has told me much about you.” Waving a wing, she gestured towards the table. “Come. Sit. We were promised tea in but a few minutes, and I invite you to join us.”

Awestruck, Clover could only stare as her limbs seemed to move her of their own accord to a spot at the table. Her magic fumbled with a chair, dragging it across the floor with a hideous shriek that snapped her out of her daze. Apologizing, Clover slid into her chair, feeling small and naked under the alicorn’s piercing gaze.

Thankfully, Star Swirl was there to help her with a smile. “Clover, this is Luna,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “While she and Lunis are one in the same, the mare behind the legend is far more like you or I than what our priests would have you believe.” He gave Luna an easygoing smile. “Even though she does control the entire night sky”

“So you really do control the stars and the moon and the planets and stuff?” Diadem excitedly asked, hopping into her seat. Apparently the filly had fewer qualms about striking up a conversation with one of her goddesses than her mentor did. “That’s really cool!”

“Indeed,” Luna answered her. “Whereas my sister concentrates her magic on moving the sun, I diffuse my own throughout the entirety of the night sky, moving the moon and creating beautiful displays among the stars for ponies like you to enjoy.” She smiled at Star Swirl, an honest, happy smile. “The Archmage enjoys talking about my night, which always leaves me absolutely thrilled. Too few appreciate the splendor I have made for you all.”

Seeing Luna shed Clover’s preconceived notions of the deity representing her, Clover allowed her shoulders to relax a little. “So why does Celestis only control the sun if you control the entire night sky? And what about our priests that claim that they help raise the sun for all of ponykind?”

“Your second question would be better answered were you to ask Celestia herself, not me,” Luna said. “Admittedly, I do not understand how my sister handles that ritual. I am of the opinion that she merely lets your kind assist her in the task, yet shoulders the brunt of the magical burden herself.” Her eyes shifted to the west, focusing on the setting sun. “As for your first question, Celestia must control the sun at all times, from dawn to dusk, as it requires her careful attention to maintain its orbit. It is scores of times heavier than my moon, and requires a steady application of her magic to keep it moving across the sky. Simply put, she does not have the resources to play with her skies the way I do with my night, apart from radiant dawns to striking sunsets.

“I, on the other hoof, only need to give the moon a push each day to set it on its course, leaving my magic free to do other things, such as arrange constellations, craft fanciful auroras, or drag a comet close enough that it can be seen from this planet.” Her eyes shifted to Diadem, and she offered the filly an apologetic smile. “I regret to say that the other planets in our system are beyond my control. They operate according to their own whims, on magic cast long before the beginning of time. Still, I do my best to highlight them for the mortal ponies to enjoy.” Her ears twitched out the sound of approaching ponies, and she sat up straighter. “And I do believe my sister has brought the tea.”

Clover’s ears pivoted first, followed by her head, towards the approaching chatter as Chancellor Puddinghead entered with Celestia at his side. The towering mare gently smiled as Puddinghead rambled on and on, apparently discussing something so exciting he hardly took time to breathe. For once, Clover noticed, the brown stallion seemed to be acting like his normal self—his eyes definitely weren’t red, at the very least.

“Greetings, sister,” Luna said, nodding to Celestia as the mare approached their table. Her horn illuminated with a midnight glow, and she levitated a cup of tea off of the platter Celestia was carrying with her own magic before the taller alicorn could even lower it to the table. Taking a sip, Luna closed her eyes and hummed. “Mmmm, I’d forgotten what it was like to live in the comforts of civilized society. Now I regret not returning sooner.”

“I know what you mean,” Celestia responded. Turning to the mortal ponies present at the table, she smiled and bowed her head, holding a wing across her chest. “It is an honor to meet you all. You can call me Celestia.”

Clover bowed. “Oh no, Celestis—Celestia, the honor’s all mine.” One look at Celestia’s motherly smile put Clover’s soul at ease, and she relaxed considerably. “I’m Clover, and this is Diadem and Star Swirl the Bearded,” she said, pointing to each pony in turn. Star Swirl humbly bowed his head, as did Diadem, although the filly peeked at Celestia through her mane.

“A pleasure to meet you two,” Celestia said, smiling sincerely. “I’ve already had the fortune to meet Star Swirl before, but it feels good to be in his company again nonetheless.” Grabbing a teacup of her own, she took a seat at the table next to her sister, and tilted her horn in Puddinghead’s direction. “The Chancellor and I were just discussing plans for the parade he plans to hold in our honor in three days’ time.”

“Parade?” Luna and Clover asked simultaneously. They quickly glanced at each other before Luna continued. “This is news to me, Tia. What sort of parade?”

Celestia opened her mouth, but Puddinghead was faster. “Oooooooooh it’s gonna be the greatest parade ever in the history of Equestria!” he exclaimed, practically hovering in the air. “There’s gonna be music and floats and performers and acrobats and soldiers and confetti and food and drinks and—!”

“Sounds absolutely wonderful,” Star Swirl interrupted. Stroking his beard, he shot Diadem a coy look. “Would you be interested in some fireworks, Chancellor?”

Puddinghead nearly exploded as he gasped. “That’d be the super-duperest! Maybe you can write their names in the sky! Or their faces! Or both!”

“Yay!” Diadem exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. “Fireworks are awesome!”

Star Swirl chuckled. “And would you care to help me with them, young lady?” He smiled at Clover. “Assuming your mentor is okay with that, of course.”

Clover couldn’t help but return his smile. “Of course she can. I think the practice would be good for her. After all, she’s practically a mage already,” she added with a wink.

Diadem hopped out of her chair and hugged Clover. “Thanks, Clover, you’re the best!” she said. Letting go, she ran a few happy circles on the balcony. “This is gonna be so awesome! I can’t wait!”

“You bet it is!” Puddinghead exclaimed, all but joining the filly. “I’ve already told Platinum and Hurricane about it, and they’re helping me get the pieces together. It’s gonna be the greatest thing ever! It’s about time Equestria had something to party about!”

“But of course,” Luna said with a smile that soon dropped to one of concern. “But what about the rebels and revolutionaries? I personally have yet to see any signs of them, but Commander Hurricane assures my sister and I that they are present nonetheless. Are we certain that this parade will be safe from their influence?”

Puddinghead blew it off with a wave of his hoof. “I’m leaving that to those hawkish pegasi to figure out, but I doubt we’ll have much of a problem. Equestria hasn’t had anything to party about in years! Even if the mean rebels show their faces, they’re not gonna look good to the rest of the ponies if they meddle with this. Commander Ricky can handle it!”

“That… was aptly put,” Clover said, a little surprised by the Chancellor’s logic.

The stallion just smiled back at her. “Of course it was! I know how to read ponies! I’m not the domestic advisor of Equestria for nothing, after all!”

Star Swirl hummed. “Of course. So the plans are in motion, then?”

Puddinghead vigorously nodded his head. “I already have my best party planners working on it! And Platinum’s getting donations and services from the various guilds around Everfree! And Hurricane’s planning with Twister on how best to organize security! All we need now is time, hard work, and a lot of sugar and sleepless nights to get from A to B!” He began to bounce away, giggling to himself. “This is gonna be fantabulous!”

Celestia watched him go, a faint smile on her face. “He’s certainly an enthusiastic pony.”

“Ah, if only you knew the half of it,” said Star Swirl, shaking his head. Grunting, the aging pony stood up, his arthritic joints cracking and making him wince. “Sun and Stars,” he muttered, shaking his head, “I’m getting too old for this. I’m already eighty-four.” He bowed his head to the Sisters. “I’ll be in my workshop if you need me. It was nice talking with the both of you.”

“But of course,” Luna said, smiling. “Are you perhaps free tonight? I would enjoy having your company when I raise the moon.”

Star Swirl humbly tilted his head. “You’re not requesting anything out of my normal schedule, Luna; I always watch the moon rise at dusk. I would be happy to accompany you.”

A faint, happy blush pulled Luna’s cheeks from dark blue closer to purple. “Thank you. You do me a great honor.”

The Archmage wordlessly nodded and strode away at a leisurely pace. Luna watched him go, and when he was out of sight, she stood up. “Sister, if you will excuse me, I will be returning to the Mountain to commune with my Guard about our new permanent arrangements in this city. I shall return by sundown.”

“Very well,” Celestia said. “I’ll be here when you return; this balcony seems like an excellent spot for carrying out our duties. In the meantime, I’ll be getting to know the ponies that live in the castle.” Noting Clover’s concerned look, she offered her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry; Commander Hurricane made his wishes clear that I refrain from visiting the city itself until the parade, and I have to agree with him. The parade will have its strongest impact if it’s the first time that the ponies of Everfree truly see us.”

With that, Luna opened her downy midnight wings and took flight, flying straight up into the cloud layer and vanishing from sight, while Celestia finished her tea and withdrew into the castle halls. That left Clover and Diadem sitting at the table, finishing their own servings of tea while the afternoon wore on around them.

“That was cool,” Diadem said. “They seem like cool ponies.”

“They do,” Clover agreed. “They were very nice.” And normal, she silently added. Certainly not what she had expected. Sighing, she stood up and brushed her mane out of her face. “Come on, Diadem. Let’s get you back to your studies.”

“Awww….”

“Don’t ‘aww’ me,” Clover said, beckoning to the filly. Diadem walked over to her, her head down and sulking, and when she was by her side Clover urged her onwards with a swish of her tail. Leaving the balcony behind, they trotted out the heavy doors in the interior of the castle and down the stone halls towards their workshop.

A parade… really? Clover had to admit that it was a novel idea. She wasn’t sure if it was the Sisters’ cup of tea, so to speak, but she did admire their enthusiasm for it. They were willing to help pull Equestria back on track, and Clover believed they could do it. Besides, maybe a parade was for the best. Puddinghead was right; Equestria needed some reason to celebrate and be happy.

She looked over her shoulder at Diadem, who looked anything but enthusiastic to return to her studies after talking with Celestia and Luna. A little smile pulled at the mare’s lips, and she paused for a second so Diadem could catch up with her. Draping a comforting foreleg across the filly’s shoulders, she led her down the hall. “So what do you want to learn first? How to make bright red explosions or fiery screamers?”

“And… there’s been nothing? No news since then?”

Commander Hurricane sat in Twister’s office, his helmet held between tired hooves. He stared into his reflection in the gold trim, stared into the eyes of a weary, aching stallion whose days in the Legion were inexorably winding down. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks gaunting, and his mane frayed. Perhaps most noticeable of all was the pressure on his shoulders, crushing him into his chair. This latest news only made it infinitely worse.

Twister tapped her hooves together, looking away. “When Legate Rain investigated, she found signs of a battle. Typhoon had taken four senior centurions with her; she wasn’t alone when it happened. Rain only found three bodies. Typhoon and Centurion Balefire are both missing, and we haven’t had any updates on their status since then.”

She offered Hurricane as comforting a look as she could manage. “She’s still alive, Cane. If the rebels had killed her or tortured her, they’d want you to know. We would’ve found her on a rooftop somewhere. We can only guess that they’re holding her for some reason.”

“And what reason would that be?” Hurricane murmured, empty, defeated. “Have they sent any demands? Have they even bothered contacting us to let us know that they have her?”

Twister bit her lip. “We’ve seen a marked decrease in rebel activity since the event…”

“Twister, don’t politic me,” Hurricane pleaded, holding up a hoof. “Just tell me straight.”

Sighing, Twister slackened her wings in defeat. “Nothing. Not a word. We don’t know what they’re keeping her for… what they’re doing to her…” She shook her head. “You know there’s a reason why they’re keeping her, Cane. They’re not doing this just to pluck your feathers, although I suspect they’ll take that as a bonus side effect.”

“Well, it’s working so far,” Hurricane muttered. Leaning back, he looked his sister in the eye. “Do we have ponies looking for them right now?”

“Of course we do; she’s my niece, after all,” Twister answered, her feathers a bit ruffled. “As soon as I heard what happened, I sent Pathfinder and Iron Rain after leads. Finder’s the best scout we have, so I figured he’d be able to navigate the slums without trouble, and Rain… well, she’s simply our strongest fighter. After you, of course,” she added with a small smile.

Hurricane waved his hoof. “She’s our strongest fighter, period, but a legionary needs both strength and tact to be truly great. At least she’s picked up a lot more of the latter since the Exodus all those years ago.” He sat still for a moment, thinking to himself, before nodding at some conclusion and looking back at Twister. “And you’ve shored up the rest of the Legion as well?”

“Doubled patrols, increased the number of legionaries on duty, and tightened down checkpoints into and out of the city, especially across the Choke. Everything short of military curfew.”

“Right,” Hurricane said. “Right.” He stood up and wandered over to the window in Twister’s office, looking out over the rooftops of Everfree City until the high class stone gave way to thatch and shanties just across the Choke. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and listened to the gentle murmur of city life below. Typhoon was still here; she was still in Everfree somewhere. Something in his heart knew it.

He nearly jumped as a soft foreleg draped across his armorless shoulders. Twister’s head leaned against his neck, nuzzling it softly, comfortingly. “We’ll find her, Hurricane,” she whispered, hugging him close. “You know we will.”

Hurricane nodded, swallowing hard on the emotions threatening to overtake him. It was all he could really do to stand there silently; thankfully, Twister didn’t say anything more. She just held him by her side until the shaking in the stallion’s shoulders stopped.

“Thank you,” Hurricane whispered, barely louder than a breath. Coughing once or twice, he roughly forced the emotion away and out of his voice. “Has… Is Tempest alright?”

“He’s okay for the time being,” Twister said, still clinging to Hurricane’s side. “We’ve all been telling him that his mom’s away on a special mission. It’s only been a few days now, but if we have to keep it up for a few weeks…” She shook her head. “He’s already talking about when his mommy’s coming home. He misses her, even if he won’t openly say it… he is only four, after all.”

Hurricane swallowed hard. “Where is he?”

Twister opened her wing and pointed to her personal room behind her office. “He should be resting, now. I’ve been keeping him entertained when I’m not dealing with Parliament, and when I am I usually have one of the centurions take him down to the barracks to watch the legionaries train. He gets exhausted fairly quickly, but only because he’s trying to keep up with everypony every day.”

Stepping away from the window, Hurricane softly strode towards the door and gently nudged it open. Inside was the blue colt, passed out on Twister’s bed, his chest peacefully rising and falling. His open wings twitched at his sides, and a look of contentment filled his face. Gingerly opening the door the rest of the way, Hurricane stepped inside and moved a hoof through his grandson’s mane, parting the white, brown, and black streaks. Tempest twitched in his sleep, but feeling the reassuring pressure of Hurricane’s hoof, soon yawned and withdrew even deeper into oblivion’s embrace.

“I swear I’ll find your mommy,” Hurricane whispered, his magenta eyes fixed on the colt. “I’ll bring her home and things will go back to the way they were. The way they should be.”

He bent down and kissed the colt’s forehead, then retreated out of the room. He paused in the doorway to cast one last sad look in Tempest’s direction before shutting the door behind him. Sighing, he let his shoulders sag and faced Twister, who was waiting for him on the other side.

“I should be going,” he murmured, his eyes downcast and not looking at anything in particular. “I have to organize security detail for the parade. If the rebels are going to try something, it’s going to be then, and we can’t afford to let that happen.” Standing straighter, he nodded towards a pile of scrolls and quills. “Draft a message to the Equestrian 5th Legion and order them back to Everfree. Our borders with the Crystal Union are less important than the protection of our capital. As soon as they return, reinforce the Choke and place permanent guards outside of every key building in the city proper. We need to control access to try and break up their meetings and identify suspicious individuals.”

Twister nodded. “Consider it done. I needed something else to do besides signing grants and responding to inane petitions and letters.” She touched his shoulder, concern filling her face. “Take the rest of the day off, Cane. You look like you need the rest. Strigon only knows what you’ve been through these past few days. At least get a good night’s sleep before you clue me in.”

Sighing, Hurricane reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I’ll let you and Pan Sea and the Council know about my plans and everything tomorrow. I’ll just… be in my quarters, if you happen to need me.”

The brown mare raised an eyebrow, standing across from Hurricane expectantly. The stallion’s lips twitched upwards, and he leaned in to give his sister a hug. Twister hummed as she leaned against him, running the crests of her wings up and down his neck.

“It’s good to have you home safe, brother,” she murmured. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know what you mean,” Hurricane answered just as softly. “You’re the only one left I can talk to about home. About the days before the Legion.”

Twister snorted. “I thought there was nothing before the Legion,” she teased, a coy glint in her golden eyes.

Hurricane smiled softly. “And there’ll be nothing after it, either. But if that nothing’s the same as the first…” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’d mind it so much.”

His sister smiled once more and brushed his cheek with her wingtip. “Get some rest, Hurricane. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Nodding once, Hurricane turned around and left Twister behind. The door shut gently behind him, almost with a grim finality, leaving the commander to sigh and continue onwards, his head down and his wings drooping at his sides.

He hardly remembered the walk back to his room; it was all muscle memory at this point. From one stony corridor to the next, his hooves carried him across the grand halls of the castle and up its many steps until he stood before a large oak door barren of any decoration apart from a single shield and crossed swords.

Hurricane’s magenta eyes wandered up, up the iron shield, crafted in the old forges before the invention of skysteel, and across the paint adorning its surface. A single gladius was painted on it, hilt at the bottom point of the shield, with a cyclone swirling around the blade just above the crossguard. The weapon itself seemed almost alive, its edges wreathed in crackling electricity that was all too poorly weathering the passage of time. It was the Stormblade family crest, passed from father to son within Hurricane’s family for centuries. It was one of the few things he’d managed to save from his home in Zephyrus when the griffons burnt it down.

“Dad,” Hurricane murmured, his eyes fixed on the shield, “if you could see me now… what would you think? Would you be proud of me?”

“I think he would be.”

Hurricane jumped at the mare’s voice and he reached for a sword that wasn’t there. Whirling around, he stared down the figure approaching him and spread his wings. It was another second before he recognized her, and his feathers began to settle back against his sides.

“You’ve done more than anypony ever could have asked of you,” Third Sister said, striding closer. “There’s hardly a single other pony alive that could have done the things you’ve done. None would’ve been able to succeed when they were as young as you were.”

Relaxing slightly, Hurricane took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Third Sister answered

Hurricane regarded her impersonally. The unicorn thestral matched him, her fangs peeking out over her lower lip and her slitted gold eyes meeting his, unwavering. Though she tried to hide it, the rest of her body wasn’t nearly as calm as her face, and her left forehoof pawed the ground ever so subtly. Though the motion would’ve gone unnoticed by most ponies, Hurricane’s eyes were still sharp enough to notice.

“Not interested,” Hurricane muttered, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “I’d rather be by myself.”

“Would you, though?” Third Sister’s question brought a pause into his step, and Hurricane turned around again to see that the mare hadn’t budged. She still watched him with that neutral mask, but the nervous tick was only getting worse. “You seem like you need a friend.”

Hurricane’s eyes narrowed at her. “We’ve hardly met.”

“I know,” she admitted. Her façade cracked, and her eyes darted around the short, empty hallway before resettling on Hurricane. “Everypony’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

The stallion studied her a few seconds longer. Sighing, he waved a wing at her before walking into his room. Third Sister released a nearly inaudible exhale of relief and trotted in after him.

Commander Hurricane’s quarters were surprisingly sparse for one of Equestria’s triumviri. His bed was decidedly nimban, barely large enough to hold two ponies, and was blanketed with threadbare gray sheets and covers. The furnishings were similarly simple, with only two high-backed chairs flanking a small wooden round table adding any sort of interest to the room. A wardrobe closet in one end of the room was covered in dust, most likely unused for five years, and the walls were all bare stone. Only two things inside the room itself seemed like they had any attention paid to them; an armor stand upon which rested Hurricane’s legendary armor and sword, and a monolithic oil portrait of Hurricane, Swift Spear, and their two children standing in front of the emperor’s palace in Cloudsdale. All four of the ponies were wearing their armor, despite their formal poses; the artist’s signature in the bottom corner dated it to only one year before the Blizzard.

Taking a seat in one chair, Hurricane gestured for Third Sister to do the same. The thestral nodded and sat down, offering her host a small ‘thank you’. Surveying the room once more, the thestral made an attempt to break the awkward silence. “So… nice place you have here.”

“Thanks,” Hurricane said, humoring her. He pointed with a wing to a pair of wooden doors facing towards the east. “I’ve always preferred the balcony, though. The few hours of the week that I’m here and not dealing with official Legion business, I like to relax outside with a book.”

The thestral hummed. “It is a nice night outside.” Her horn glowed red, and a corresponding aura illuminated the handles on the balcony doors. “May I?”

“Please, be my guest,” Hurricane said dismissively. Nodding, Third Sister opened the doors, letting the warm twilight air into the tower. Hurricane sighed a bit and his wings relaxed as the warm air permeated his coat. “Summer… it was always her favorite season.”

Third Sister’s fanged teeth bit down on her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s... old history,” Hurricane muttered, though the tone in his voice told otherwise. “What about you?”

“Well, a few years ago, I would’ve said winter,” Third Sister answered. “But due to recent developments, I’d have to say summer. The warmth is… nice.”

Hurricane hummed an acknowledgment. “After what I went through in the Blizzard five years back, I don’t think I can ever appreciate another winter. Too much cold. Too much death.” He leaned back in his chair. “Imagine gray skies, where the sun didn’t shine for weeks. Temperatures that dropped lower and lower, until the clouds were too cold to even touch, until a legionary’s armor would cover in ice in seconds. Imagine—”

“I was there,” Third Sister interrupted him, faintly amused. “I remember everything.”

“You were?” Hurricane asked. He frowned and studied the thestral’s features again. Her slitted eyes. Her fanged jaws. Her razor sharp horn. “Luna made it sound like you never left the Mountain of Dawn.”

Third Sister sighed. “There’s a long story in there, believe it or not. I lived in River Rock, and I marched with the rest of you to Everfree. I only moved to the Mountain three years ago.”

The commander blinked. “How come we’ve never heard of thestrals before, then?”

“I wasn’t always a thestral,” Third Sister said. “None of us were born this way.” She flashed him a smile, her fangs making it somewhat ghastly in appearance. “I used to be a regular unicorn. I worked at an orphanage caring for all the lost and abandoned unicorn foals of River Rock. Believe me when I say that I knew what sort of horrors the Blizzard brought on all of us.”

“So what happened?” Hurricane asked. “How’d you change?”

“I died.”

Hurricane was momentarily at a loss for words. “What?”

“I got stabbed in the chest and bled out in a ditch in the middle of the night,” Third Sister explained as nonchalantly as if she were describing the weather. “When I died, I was a regular unicorn mare. Silver coat, silver and green mane, pretty blue eyes. Now, obviously, I’m not.” She smiled softly, dangerously. “I have the Mis—err, I have Luna to thank for that.”

“But you’re sitting here, talking to me right now,” Hurricane protested. “So you can’t really be dead.”

“Can’t I? My heart isn’t beating. I don’t need to breathe. My body is cold.” She tapped a hoof against her chin. “Let’s see, how do I make this simple for you? A thestral is born when a not-so-good yet not-so-bad pony dies in the middle of the night. Rather than damn us to Tartarus because we were a little too ‘evil’ or ‘selfish’ in life, Luna gives us a chance to earn a place in the Summer Lands. All we have to do is serve her for a hundred years. So… here I am.”

Hurricane regarded her for a few moments. “Can I ask what you did?”

“Me?” Third Sister asked, as if there were somepony else to whom Hurricane could have been referring. “I’m really not supposed to talk about my past life, honestly; Lady Luna forbids it. But, seeing as how I’ve already broken that rule...” She looked around as if she expected her mistress to be standing on the balcony. “I suppose I can talk about it, if you promise she won’t hear about this.”

“I don’t see any reason to at the moment,” Hurricane answered. “It won’t leave this room.”

The thestral visibly relaxed. “Well, I told you that I worked in an orphanage. We’d see all sorts of ponies come in, thinking they wanted to adopt a foal. River Rock never really had any laws on adoption; ponies could just waltz in, sign a form, and leave with a foal. It didn’t matter what their reasons were; once a foal walked out our doors, there wasn’t anything we could do to look after them.

“All I wanted was to make sure that our foals were safe when they left our doors, so I’d spend a few days and nights after each adoption spying on the new family. Most were happy enough, and that made me happy too.” She smiled wistfully at a few nearly forgotten memories. Then her expression darkened. “There were others, though, that were just… evil. Ponies who’d adopt fillies and raise them to serve in harems or be prostitutes. ‘Parents’ that adopted colts for slave labor. I saw those cases and I… I couldn’t let them do that. So I… removed them, and brought the kids back.”

The dark stallion furrowed his brow. “You murdered those ponies?”

Third Sister sighed and nodded. “I always told myself I was doing it for a good cause. I never hesitated. But nopony’s forgiving of cold-blooded murder—not even Luna. I died trying to save a filly from a couple that was trying to sell her into slavery. When I made my case before Lunis, she… reanimated me so I could finish the job. Then I became like this. It was weird at first—really weird—but I’ve gotten used to it.” She gave another terrifying smile. “I keep up with the orphanage when I’m in town, and follow all the ponies I helped find good homes to make sure they’re doing all right. Not even death will take those kids’ guardian angel from them.”

“That’s… admirable,” Hurricane said.

“Thank you,” Third Sister answered. Sighing, she leaned back. “So that’s my story. Anything else you’d like to know?”

Hurricane was silent for a moment. “What was it like?” he finally asked, softly.

Third Sister raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

The stallion kept his eyes fixed on hers. “You know what I mean.”

The thestral bit her lip and looked out the balcony doors. “It… it’s scary at first,” she finally answered. “You’re never really ready to die, even if you think you are, and especially when you realize you will. In the end, though, there wasn’t any pain. There wasn’t any anger. Just… acceptance. Acceptance and forgiveness. And then it was like sleeping. A long, long sleep, which you know you’ll never wake up from. But that’s okay. In that last moment, you’re finally okay with it. You’re finally at peace. Then… it’s over.”

Her slitted golden eyes sparkled with moisture that refused to fall. A few blinks of her lashes later and it was gone. She cast sad eyes at the pegasus across from her. “Does that answer your question, Hurricane?”

“Yes…” Hurricane whispered. “Yes, it does.” He took a deep breath and forced the emotion down. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. To know that she’d passed in peace… maybe now he could let go, five years later. “Thank you, Third Sister,” he said, keeping his eyes averted from the thestral’s face.

Third Sister reached across the table and gently took one of Hurricane’s hooves in her own. “Please… Aurora’s just fine.”

Iron Rain and Pathfinder wandered the network of subterranean caverns, their wingtips brushing along the right side of the stony walls. All around them, water dripped off of stalactites into murky puddles, echoing across the dark and damp caves. The occasional squeak of a bat or a rat broke the monotony of falling water and clopping hooves, and the deeper the two ponies dove under Everfree, the heavier the air settled around them.

“I don’t like this.”

“It’s a nice cave, if you’d spend the time to get to know it,” Pathfinder muttered, flicking Rain’s snout with his tail. “What’s bothering you?”

“There’s no such thing as a nice cave, Finder.” Rain said with an irritated sigh, her eyes darting around the small circle of light from the flame she carried on the opposite wingtip. “Something isn’t adding up here. Marigold is an errand pony; why would they let her know where their base of operations is? You don’t do that unless you want to be found.”

“You don’t honestly believe Marigold still works for these ponies, do you?” Finder asked, an edge of concern creeping into his voice. “They were trying pretty hard to kill her, unless you’d forgotten.”

“If you’re trying to kill somepony, you don’t try and drown them. You cut their throat and toss the corpse in the river.” Rain shook her head, the flame on her wing flickering from the motion. “If I didn’t know better, Finder, I’d think they were putting on a show for us.”

“Why? If nopony showed up, then they would’ve killed a mare and her three children, which would’ve gotten the Guard involved and set off a lynchmob. Best case scenario they pick off a couple more legionaries.” Finder shook his head and grunted. “Besides, they got several of their own killed. It doesn’t make sense.”

The iron mare lowered her head and took two large steps so she was walking side by side with her husband. “That’s my point, Finder. We haven’t found anypony important since we started skulking around down here. No blood, no tracks, not so much as a shed hair.”

“Not true,” Finder said, shaking his head. “There was that branch a ways back that had torches in it.”

Rain allowed herself a half-amused snort. “I said ‘important’. A group of smugglers trying to get wares from Platinum’s Landing into the city without paying taxes is well below our pay grade.”

“Do you think we’re walking into a trap?” Finder asked, looking Rain in the eye as they came to a stop.

Again, the Nimban mare shook her head. Her hoof came up to rub at the back of her neck where her helmet had been awkwardly pressing into her flesh. “I don’t know. It just…” she sighed again, her hoof lowering back to the stone ground with a soft clop. “It doesn’t feel right, you know?”

“Rain,” Finder began, lifting his hoof to her cheek and gently guiding her gaze to his. “Are you worried about us, or the kids?” The scout’s eyes went wide, cold talons of fear clutching at his heart for the briefest of moments. “You don’t think they’d track Marigold to our home, do you?”

Rain placed her hoof over Finder’s, and just for a moment she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his touch. “No, nothing like that. Besides, Shimmer’s a good girl and a better fighter than I was at her age.” She offered a reassuring smile to her husband, her hoof softly rubbing his. “It’s the strategy that worries me. Why would they go through all this hassle if they just wanted to kill soldiers? Why would they leave an entrance to their base completely unguarded?” Rain gave another shake of her head, releasing Finder’s hoof from under hers. “Please, tell me I’m just being paranoid, tell me this whole setup doesn’t rub you the wrong way too?”

Finder sighed. “You’re not wrong, Rain. There’s nothing about this that passes the smell test, but what else could we do?” Finder motioned with his wing for them to resume walking. “This is our best option to find Typhoon. At the very least we’ve cleared a few tunnels we don’t have to worry about.” He craned his neck, scanning the stalactites hanging above them as they walked deeper into the heart of Everfree. “We’ll just have to be on our guard.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Rain muttered behind him, her wings twitching at her sides. She turned to the side and raised her uninjured wing, lining the bladed edges with the stone. With a shrill scrape, she slashed her wingblades against the stone, scoring two vertical lines slashed by a horizontal line trailing off in the direction they’d come from.

“You really don’t need to do that,” Finder groaned, his ears flattening against his head.

“I really don’t need to get lost in a cave, either.”

Finder smiled and touched his brow. “I have the map all in here, honey.”

“Uh huh.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” He shook his head and kept walking. “You do realize my mark is a compass, right? And I didn’t get to be a scout-centurion through my good looks and charming personality.” Waving his wing, he began to descend another ramp. “Now come on, we have places to be.”

Rain frowned at him, her eyes narrowing on his diminishing form. Growling, she stomped a hoof and quickly fluttered after him. “I hate caves.”

The ramp angled downwards for another hundred feet, and both Rain and Finder glided along so they wouldn’t have to step in the mossy slime lining the stone. The moisture that’d worn out the ramp over millennia glistened in the tiny flame Rain carried on her wing, almost like a trail of stars sliding into the heart of the earth.

The next cavern the pair entered was considerably larger than the last. Stalactites hanging from the ceiling created something akin to a curtain, mirrored from below by a large pond suspended in a timeless tranquility. Wandering closer, however, the legionaries realized that the stillness wasn’t from the water; the entire surface of the pond was covered in a sheet of slowly thawing ice. A few quick flaps of Pathfinder’s wings brought him closer, and he landed at the edge of the ice sheet, his eyes narrowing on its frosty surface. “Gods above?”

“Well. That’s certainly different,” Rain commented, striding up behind him. Poking at the sheet, she frowned and put some weight on it. “It’s thick and sturdy, too. And still blisteringly cold.”

“Empatha,” Finder muttered, stepping onto the surface. The ice didn’t even squeak as his armored weight stressed its gloss. “This was made by a strong empath, and not more than a few hours ago.” His eyes fell back to Rain, and the mare nodded in agreement.

“Only Typhoon’s strong enough to do something like this,” she concluded, joining Pathfinder on the ice. She looked around the cave, noting a small tunnel with a torch in its mouth. “She must’ve been trying to escape… but why spend so much energy freezing an entire pond?”

Finder looked down at his hooves, and his sharp eyes quickly picked apart the details. They widened slightly at his conclusion, and he pointed down at the frosty ice he was standing on. “She didn’t freeze the entire pond… just the first few inches.”

Raising an eyebrow, Rain slid across the ice to Pathfinder and narrowed her eyes. “Is… is that a pony down there?”

The body was nearly impossible to pick out through the murky ice and poor lighting, but Finder could see the stallion’s orange coat and armored body resting at the bottom of the pond. The color of his helmet plume told him that the soldier was a centurion. “Centurion. You recognize him?”

“Corona,” Rain answered. “He and three other centurions went into the choke at about the same time Typhoon did, and none of them reported back. Unlike with Typhoon, there weren’t any signs of a struggle, as far as we could tell. They just up and disappeared.” She raised her head again and began to stalk towards the torch-lit tunnel. “At least we know what happened to them now. But the question remains…”

“Why?” Finder asked for her, regarding the corpse one last time before rejoining his wife. “I’m not sure. I don’t think we’ll ever be sure until we find Typhoon. I really hope it’s not just the rebels playing sick games with our soldiers.” He shook his head. “Whatever it is, it needs to stop, and the best way to do that is to get Typhoon away from them.”

The echo of voices off of the walls of the cavern gave Finder and Rain just enough time to dive behind a stalagmite, putting the stone column between them and the lit tunnel. Nodding to Rain, Finder channeled his Empatha into his coat, his faded green fur changing to a gray and brown identical to the rocks they were up against. Slowly, ever so slowly, Finder peered around the edge of the stalagmite, his helmetless skull pressed flat against the column.

Two ponies emerged from the tunnel, one a gray unicorn and the other a gray earth pony. Their coats almost let them fade away against the stone; were it not for the flickering lights casting shadows on their bodies, even Finder might not have noticed them. Both had blue eyes and walked with a similar stiff gait… brothers, perhaps? At any rate, Finder knew they were on lookout with how their eyes slowly traced every contour of the cavern. When the unicorn’s eyes scanned his stalagmite he flattened his ears against his head and closed his eyes, all but disappearing into terrain. No alarm was raised, no hooves stirred, and after a few moments, Finder opened his eyes again.

The two ponies began talking to each other in hushed tones now; normally, Finder would’ve been able to drop in on their conversation with ease, but the Empatha turning his ears to stone all but deafened him. Thankfully, Rain didn’t have that problem. Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes and focused on the air between her and the guards. She couldn’t just hear them clearly; her wind Empatha tuned her into the vibrations in the air to the point where she could feel what they were saying.

“…exercise this morning?” one the unicorn was saying just as Rain honed herself in on their conversation.

“Abaddon said everything went accordingly,” the earth pony answered. Rain’s brow furrowed. The two ponies sounded almost identical, and picking their voices apart was surprisingly difficult. “I saw her myself when it was over. She looked convicted then. That means the mistress is a step closer to executing her takeover.”

“Good. Just one final fight until we’re finished with her. That means we can get out of here and move someplace drier.” The sound of rattling armor. “I’ve had it with the moisture clinging to everything down here. Everything’s so slimy, and you have to clean weapons and armor around the clock so they don’t rust. Shouldn’t skysteel be above that?”

“Beats me. The pegasi make it, and good luck getting more of them to join Her.”

“We’ll have to start converting them, then.”

“I’d say today’s display was a perfect demonstration of how well it works.”

“Mmm.”

Rain opened her eyes, hearing their hooves begin to clop along the stone floor. She touched Finder’s shoulder and the stallion nodded, slowly slinking around the stalagmite. As the pair of guards wandered back down the hall, Finder and Rain shadowed them, peering down the long hall and noting its numerous branches. The unicorn and earth pony rounded a corner about halfway down the tunnel on the right, leaving the two Cirrans to emerge in the newly vacated hallway.

“What now?” Rain asked, eyeing the doors along the left side and the branches along the right. “Follow them?”

Finder nodded. “I’ll track them through the stone. They say anything interesting?”

“None of it sounded too good,” Rain admitted. “They were saying something about ‘conversion’ again.”

“Like what Steel Plow said?”

Rain nodded. “They had to have been talking about Typhoon. They said something about ‘one final fight.’ Don’t know what they mean about that.”

“Do you think it has to do with Centurion Corona?”

The legate shuddered. “I hope not, but regardless, let’s make sure there isn’t a final fight.”

Finder blew air between his teeth. “Alright. Let’s take a look at a few of these doors in the meanwhile, and then we’ll follow our lead again.”

“Right.” Following the well-lit passageway, Rain peered through the bars in the doors to numerous empty spaces on the other side, and all of the doors were unlocked. One room in particular, however, just before the branch in the hall brought pause to her steps. “Finder?”

Waving her wing, she motioned for the stallion to join her. Two solid clicks of his stone hooves against the stone tunnel brought him over. Gesturing to the door, Rain pushed it open so the light from the hallway could illuminate the interior. Several patches of melting ice and scorch marks filled the room, and a cot at the far corner was disheveled as if it’d been slept in recently.

“Typhoon fought here,” Finder observed, noting the ice and ashes. “And against a fire empath, too.”

“Corona,” Rain concluded. “And two others,” she added, pointing out the separate bloodstains in the chamber.

Finder took a step back and furrowed his brow. “So three, maybe four ponies attacked her here… and then took the fight outside where she ended it at the lake.” He scowled. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“She was attacked while she was captive?” Rain asked, confused.

“Yeah, and apparently she was able to escape and continue the fight outside. Or did she attack her guards when they came to feed her or something, and she fought her way out?”

Rain shook her head. “No… this is really weird.” She wandered over to the door and flicked the latch with a wing. “These doors lock from the inside. She’d be able to lock ponies out of her room if she wanted.”

Finder shook his head, his eyebrows arching. “That’s not how you keep a prisoner contained. It’s almost like—” He stopped, his eyes beginning to light up. “Gods…”

The gray mare came to the same conclusion almost as soon as he did. “Do you think they really—?”

“Really what?”

The third voice startled the both of them, and they whirled towards the door to see a single unicorn with a black horn and blue eyes standing in front of them. He wore a heavy cloak across his shoulders, obscuring the rest of his body but leaving enough revealed to pronounce his strong build. His blue eyes watched the two ponies with a mixture of amusement and caution.

A dark smile pulled at Rain’s lips, and she advanced on the unicorn with her bladed wings extended. “I don’t know, maybe you can clue us in?” she asked, her voice dangerously saccharine and cheery.

The unicorn remained confident, not flinching or drawing back as the mare closed in on him. “Perhaps we’ll get to that when the time comes,” he answered, his voice cool and calm. “I figure we should have a demonstration on our hooves soon enough.”

Rain’s smile twisted into scorn and anger. “What have you bastards done with Typhoon?” A shrug of her shoulders edged her zweihoofer closer to her cheek, ready to be drawn at the slightest tug. “Make this easy and I’ll make your death quick.”

“Rain…” Finder warned from deeper in the room. “Careful…”

“I would listen to your husband, Legate Rain,” Abaddon said. “This isn’t a fight you’d want to pursue.”

The mare hesitated, seemingly fighting with her inner nature to simply behead the unicorn in front of her with a massive sweep of her sword. Growling, she took a step back and waved a wing. “C’mon, Finder, let’s end this ass—!”

Green magic suddenly wrapped around her body and flung her backwards, limbs flailing, into the cell. Pathfinder stepped into the way and caught her, teeth grinding as he exerted his Empatha to give him the earth pony-like strength needed to stop the muscular mare and all her armor. Rain jumped out of his grasp and landed on her hooves, immediately charging Abaddon with Finder at her side. Abaddon’s horn illuminated once more, and both pegasi felt their hooves freeze mid-gallop. Finder grunted as he tripped and fell, his stony jaw releasing a resounding clack when it hit the floor. Rain maintained her balance and flung herself forward with her wings. Both she and the unicorn were left with limbs flailing when she tackled him out of the cell.

Finder felt the magic leave his legs, and immediately he was back on his hooves, rushing to Rain’s aid. The mare wrestled with Abaddon, keeping the smaller black unicorn pinned under her bulky weight as she slammed his skull into the wall. Abaddon groaned with each impact, grimacing as he tried to build up the concentration to cast a spell. When Rain was about to ram his horn into the stone again, however, the unicorn spit directly into her eyes, blinding her and buying himself enough time to charge his horn. With a loud pop and a flash of light, he disappeared, reappearing further down the hall. He turned tail and immediately fled down one of the adjoining hallways, his hooves echoing across the stone.

Pathfinder was immediately on his tail. Although the hallway was too narrow to truly fly in, the stallion pumped his wings with each step to rapidly slash the distance between himself and Abaddon. Abaddon glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at Pathfinder, and the unicorn’s horn lit up. Gritting his teeth, Pathfinder jumped off the ground in case Abaddon tried to lock his legs again. Only too late did he notice that the walls themselves were glowing.

“Shit…”

Huge rocks and chunks of debris exploded outwards from the wall, pelting Finder from all sides. The stallion ducked his head and sheltered it between outstretched wings as rocks the size of bricks slammed into his armor and his flanks, but nevertheless he pushed forward and out of the deathtrap. Most of the debris deflected harmlessly off of his stone coat, and the rocks that pelted the wound along his side didn’t drop him in crippling pain. In only a few seconds, it was over, but when Pathfinder finally managed to get a glimpse through the dust and the rubble, Abaddon was nearly out of sight.

A roar of air preceded Iron Rain as she launched herself over Pathfinder’s head. Her Empatha gave her the wind she needed to fly down the hallway without fully extending her wings; ducking low, Finder let her pass, then stopped in the middle of the hall. His eyes narrowed in Abaddon’s direction, and with a deep breath, he channeled his magic into the earth. He could feel the floor and walls ahead of Abaddon as if he was touching them with his own hooves, and his focus shifted to a weak point in the tunnel. Shouting with exertion, Finder forced the stone to rise and slam together, sealing off any access further down the hall just as Abaddon’s nose bumped into it.

The unicorn charged his horn to teleport, but Rain reached him first. She tackled him again and slashed at his horn with a wing. Still charged with the mana he needed to teleport, Abaddon was able throw up a sheet of magic around his horn, holding back Rain’s wingblade by a few inches.. A telekinetic shove was all he needed to force the mare back, buying him enough space to channel another spell. The field of emerald force launched away from his horn and wrapped over Rain’s face., The legate gagged, finding herself suddenly unable to breathe.

Abaddon’s features hardened as he strangled the life out of Rain, forcing the mare to her knees. As darkness encroached on the corners of her vision, Rain’s eyes chanced upon a sizeable piece of debris. Desperately lunging to the side, she grabbed the stone in a fetlock and hurled it at Abaddon. The unicorn had been so intent on suffocating Rain that he didn’t see the stone until it was too late. Shouting, he stumbled back and clutched his horn. His magic suddenly dissipated as blood dribbled down his brow.

Finder took Rain’s place, and with the same magic that allowed him to block off the tunnel behind Abaddon, he forced the floor to rise up like claws, rooting the unicorn’s hooves in place. Abaddon struggled with his earthen shackles for a few seconds, but then his eyes caught sight of something over Finder’s shoulder. Drawing his eyes back towards the centurion, Abaddon abruptly relaxed and watched Finder approach. Finder stopped a few feet away from the unicorn and drew his sword.

“Going somewhere?” the pegasus asked, keeping one eye on Abaddon’s horn.

“A simple relocation,” Abaddon answered. There was no worry, no hesitation in his voice. It made Finder feel uneasy, even when Rain trotted up to his side.

“No magic or you lose your horn,” Finder warned him. “Where were you going?”

“Where else would I be going?” the unicorn asked, smiling. “To get help of course.”

Rain scoffed. “And you said this would be a fight we shouldn’t pursue.”

Abaddon laughed, making Finder’s mane stand on end. “Oh no, I didn’t mean our fight.” He smiled and gestured with his muzzle over both of their shoulders. “I meant this fight.”

The Cirran couple immediately whirled in place, expecting to find a dozen, maybe two dozen rebels waiting for them. Instead, they were greeted by one pony, her black Praetorian armor freshly polished and the blue skysteel sword in her grasp leaving vapor trails from the moisture in the air. She stalked forward with anger and malice, but the most striking feature of all was her eyes. Instead of the piercing magenta irises, the mare’s eyes were an emerald green that seemed to bleed over into the sclera.

“Typhoon?” Rain started forward, closing the distance between the two of them. “What are you doing here?” When Typhoon didn’t answer, Rain stopped, her feathers rising in worry. Squinting, she finally noticed Typhoon’s eyes, and she took a step back. “Gods… what did they do to you?”

“Get. Away. From him,” Typhoon growled, her green eyes narrowed on Rain and Finder. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“The conversion,” Finder muttered under his breath.

A filthy smile grew across Abaddon’s face. “Ah, so you have heard of that?” he asked. “Steel Plow did his job then. I’m so happy you finally get to see it in action.”

Finder whirled to face the unicorn. “What do you mean?” he hissed, pressing Ensis closer to Abaddon’s neck.

Abaddon laughed. “Did you think you were the ones making the rules? That you were the ones taking the initiative, not us? Our spies are so deeply implanted in your Legion that I see everything. Every step that you’ve taken, I planned. Every action my followers took, I ordered. Did you think that we wouldn’t recognize two of the highest profile legionaries in all of Cirra crossing the Choke? That Steel Plow threatening that wretched thief in plain sight of you was an accident?” He smiled wider, making Finder grit his teeth in worry. “Or that you somehow made it this far into our base without being detected?

“Rest assured, we’ve been watching you the whole way, just so that you can tell Hurricane about what you’ve seen here. With Typhoon as a defector, we should see a whole slew of milites following in her hoofsteps. That’s when the game’s finally over.”

Pathfinder ground his teeth. “That’s despicable!” He turned around to see Rain and Typhoon squaring off, Typhoon’s wings opened threateningly and Rain taking small, unsure steps backwards, her own wings adopting a defensive stance. “Rain, get her. I’ll take care of this bastard here. Maybe Star Swirl can help undo whatever they’ve done to her.”

“You will not take me to him!” Typhoon screeched, stomping her hoof on the ground. Ice shot out from under it, and Rain flung herself to the side without hesitation. Even before her hooves had left the ground, a razor sharp icicle sprung up from under her; only the speed of her reflexes kept her from being impaled by Typhoon’s Empatha. Still, the mare was off-balance, and Typhoon lunged forward and caught Rain as she tried to recover. The smaller blond mare tackled the larger gray legate, knocking Rain flat onto her back, wings flailing as she struggled to regain balance. A bladed wing whistled through the air, but Rain carried the momentum back and managed to kick Typhoon away before it connected with her throat. Snarling, Typhoon pushed off of the ceiling and landed by Abaddon’s side, thrusting Hiems Osculum between the stallion’s neck and Pathfinder’s sword. With a step forward and a pump of her wings, she shoved the stone-coated pegasus away.

A flash of magic allowed Abaddon to teleport out of the earthen shackles Pathfinder had summoned around his hooves. Placing a hoof on Typhoon’s shoulder, he locked eyes with Pathfinder. “I think your friends have overstayed their welcome, Typhoon. It’s time that they leave.”

“They’re not my friends,” the mare hissed. Pathfinder stared at her, pleading, but even the older stallion withered under her glare. “They’re with him.”

Abaddon smiled, flashing disturbingly white teeth. “In that case… make sure you leave one alive. Somepony has to tell Star Swirl that you’re coming for him.”

“Typhoon, please,” Finder pleaded, “Don’t listen to him. This is all in your head. He’s screwing with your mind!”

Typhoon sneered at him. “Lies! They saved me! They saved me from him!” She stomped a hoof forward, ice radiating out and covering the stone floor in frost. “And you’re with him! I already killed three that he sent after me, and I’ll kill you, too!”

Rain grabbed Finder’s shoulder and pulled him back. “They’ve already broken her, Finder. They used Corona and the others to make her turn her back on us. She needs to see Star Swirl, needs to see somepony who can fix this.”

Finder squeezed his eyes shut. “We can’t just leave her! Not like this!”

Shouting farther down one of the halls made the couple’s heads turn, and Rain began to drag Finder backwards. “We have to go, Finder! We have to go, now!”

“But—!”

“They have the advantage and the situation’s changed!” Rain shouted, continuing to drag Finder back down the hall. “If we don’t move, we aren’t gonna make it out of here in one piece! We’re leaving! Now!”

Finder bit his lip, desperately staring at Typhoon and Abaddon just fifteen feet away. The mare’s sickly green eyes pierced through his armor with a burning, unnatural hatred, and he could see her leaning against Abaddon’s hoof like a dog waiting to be loosed on an enemy. Setting his hooves under him, he began to backpedal with Rain. “Fight it, Typhoon!” he cried, trying to penetrate whatever magic that was distorting her eyes with his own. “Don’t let them fool you! Think of your father! Think of Tempest! He’s waiting for his mama back at the castle!”

One final jerk of Rain’s forelimb sent the stallion reeling around the corner. Typhoon twitched at her son’s name, and for a moment her eyes flashed back to their normal magenta color. When Abaddon tightened his hoof against her shoulder, however, it disappeared entirely, and the emerald resurfaced. Again she tensed against his shoulder, but Abaddon shook his head. “Not now, Typhoon. They’ll tell Star Swirl about what they saw here. There’ll be unrest; discord. The Praetorian will search for the truth; with your father out of the picture, they’ll be searching for their next leader. They’ll start searching for you.

“And when they do… that’s when you show yourself to them. That’s when you take back the Legion and this nightmare will be over.”

Author's Notes:

Special Thanks to Ruirik for the awesome scene break sigils; now you guys can get a visualization of what your favorite characters' cutie marks look like!
EDIT: images now longer bork. Have fun!

Also, welcome SolidFire to the editing staff. Applause all around!