Cold weather training was always a miserable affair. No matter how many times he did it, Tercio still despised the snow, the biting cold and the rough terrain. He and thirty others had started their long trek up the mountain nearest Canterlot nearly four hours ago, and he had long since lost most of the feeling in his hands and feet. Insulating under garments and boots could only do so much to fight off the encroaching snows and blowing winds. He swore to himself, wishing he had the warmth of a natural coat like all the others, even if they weren't particularly happy with their situations either.

"F-Fuckin' cold and shit," a voice stammered beside him between chattering teeth and clanking armor.

"I don't see what you're complaining about, Rime." Frost Wind trotted alongside the shivering earth pony as if it was the middle of summer. "You should be used to it by now. Don't you come from a vineyard that makes ice wine? I mean, one would expect such a place to be cold."

"First of all, I don't go stomping through snow if I can help it," Rimeberry retorted with a look of barely hidden resentment. "Second, fuck you and your...your pegasus weather resistance. It's even in your name, for the love of all things decent!"

Frost Wind shrugged. "Not everyone can be blessed with being a pegasus, my friend."

"Apparently not everyone can be blessed with knowing when to shut their damn m-mouths, either..."

Imperator Stonewall, standing beside the formation, knocked his gladius against his shield.

"Are you two ladies are done slap-fighting? Because if I have to step between you the snow is gonna be the least of your problems."

"I don't know how you can stand it up here," Tercio said, stepping through a snow drift that came up to his knees.

"You learn to deal with it. Besides, I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you whiny bunch of colts show me up."

It took another half-hour until they reached their destination, a snow-covered plateau that overlooked the decidedly warmer valley below. The city of Canterlot could just barely be seen clinging to the mountains in the distance, with the castle's main spires being the only thing separating it from the horizon. Clumps of bare bushes and evergreen trees dotted the encampment site and, despite the passage of time and weather, one could still see evidence of Praetorian activity from years prior: stone fire pits, rusted tent stakes, and bits of scrap metal littered the area.

Setting up the big, canvas tents took a long time, thanks to the blustery winds, and it was miserable going. Only once they'd secured their long shelters and set out their fires did they get the chance to warm up and get some hot food in their stomachs. Some of the veteran Praetorians, Tercio included, took the opportunity to catch an hour or two of sleep, exhausted from the climb, knowing full well that they would likely not have another chance for a while to come. Warm and comfortable in his sleeping roll, he'd quickly entered a dreamless sleep. It was over all too soon.

"Winter combat drill in five! Let's move it, Praetorians!"

Stonewall's voice filled the tent, answered by grumbled swears and complaints. Tercio had to force himself to get up once more, and his legs and back protested as he strapped on his armor. He wished he was back in the barracks, in those damned uncomfortable cots. Even they seemed a luxury right now.

"I don't see the old guard joining us," Thunderburst said bitterly. 'Old guard' was what he and the others called the senior Praetorians from the other barracks, the officers, all of whom were back in Canterlot as they spoke.

"They were doing this before some of us were even able to walk. I'd say they've earned the right to sit on their asses."

The dark-coated pegasus scoffed. "At least Stonewall knows what leadership is. Hard-ass though he may be, he's certainly earned my respect, unlike the others." A chorus of agreements answered him.

"Don't let him hear you say that," someone else added, getting laughter in return.

Tercio had just finished securing his purple cloak when the old stallion opened the tent flap once more.

"Right, everyone out! Move your asses, fillies, or you'll be digging shit trenches for the next two days!"

The harsh cold was like a kick to the gut as he stepped outside. Even though the clouds had partially cleared and the sun was shining through he felt no relief, his breath coming out in wispy puffs and his skin prickling with goose flesh. His spirits lifted somewhat as he noticed the stone circle that had been laid out in the middle of the trio of long tents; perhaps some sparring would help him forget about the biting chill.

"Listen up!" Stonewall raised a hoof, a buckler shield securely strapped to it, and the gathered soldiers crowded around him. "This will be the first of your winter combat training drills! Over the next several days you will learn the fine art of not dying with your prick frozen to the ground! Don't go dropping dead on me, or I'll be disappointed. Even with you, Polaris."

The others laughed, and Stonewall waited for them to quiet down before continuing.

"More to the point, every Praetorian worth his salt needs to know how to handle himself in the worst situations possible. The smart-asses in the Legion like to call us 'soft' for residing in Canterlot, but there was nothing soft about the ass-kicking we gave to those cultists shit bags, now was there?!"

A shout of "HAH-OOH!" answered him, and a rare smile crossed Stonewall's scarred face.

"You're damned right! With that said, we can never be too prepared. The cold of winter is fast approaching Canterlot, and if those worshipers of the fallen princess or even the tree-rutting whitetail should try to attack us, thinking us weak because of a little snow, then they will be in for a harsh lesson. Krosus!"

"Stonewall, sir?" Tercio answered, standing at attention.

"You're in charge of Third contubernium for the time being. Polaris, you get Second. Cloudtop will be in charge of First once he returns with our water. I want you to form your stallions into combat groups. Formation training will begin one hour after sparring. We'll decide the hastati, principes, and triarii ranks as we get to them. Understood? Then let's get to it, Praetorians!"

The soldiers split off into their assigned groups, and Tercio circled his raised arm to gather his charges.

"Does anyone still need to grab any equipment?" he asked. "No? Very well. For now we'll form a fighting circle, and your opponent will be the stallion opposite you. Rimeberry, Anarius, Balustrade and Fentien will take the left side. Myself, Thunderburst, Iron Thresh and Bear will take the right."

"Hey, how come you get the zebra?" Rimeberry objected.

"Because I'm in charge," Tercio answered with a smirk.

"Yeah, we'll see who's in charge when you're on the ground."

The others laughed and threw out good-natured, mocking replies to the two biggest members of their number.

"Is that a challenge, Rimeberry?"

"A challenge? Of course not. It's a promise."

Tercio donned his crested helm and hefted his tower shield.

"Then I suppose we know what the first combat of the day will be, don't we?"

He could hear the Praetorians cheering him on and goading him to fight. Rimeberry looked around and smiled, then pulled out his gladius from its sheathe.

"I suppose we do. Come then, human, and draw your sword."

As he reached for his weapon Tercio wondered if such a grand sword should be used for simple combat training. He knew Princess Luna would have laughed in amusement at his hesitation -- what good was a sword if you could not use it? -- but it still felt like using a golden dagger to open a market scroll.

His fingers touched the pommel and grasped the warm grip, and as he made a connection to the magical blade it almost felt alive. A faint whisper at the very edge of his hearing called to him. Was it possible Nocturne itself was eager for battle? A single thrum, a vibration, shot up his arm at the thought, and when he closed his eyes he could see the stars of the night sky laid out before him.

He pulled the weapon from its scabbard, and it sang with a sharp-sounding squeal of metal on leather. There was a commotion all around him as he did so, gasps of surprise and murmurs of excitement.

"What is that?" Rimeberry asked, staring at the weapon in awe.

"This?" Tercio turned it over in his grasp, the fine steel catching the sun's light. "This is the blade of Princess Luna."

The murmurs grew louder, drawing the attention of the other groups who trotted over to see what was happening.

"It's what? Come on, be serious."

"I speak only the truth, my friend."

"Where in the hell did you get Luna's weapon? This has to be a joke! There's no way you could--"

"It was a gift, from Princess Celestia. A bit more fitting of a weapon for someone of my build, wouldn't you say?"

Rimeberry placed a hoof on the broad side of the sword, as if it was the only way to be sure it was real.

"I mean, yeah, that gladius always did seem kinda small for you, but still...you're not exactly royalty."

Tercio spun Nocturne around, its white trail of ethereal energy visible even in daylight. Now the crowd wanted to see him fight Rimeberry even more than before. For the first time, Tercio saw the big earth pony hesitate. The others called on him to fight, shouted words of encouragement, be it genuine or mocking.

"Alright, alright, we'll do this. I don't need some fancy-ass sword to kick your ass."

Tercio looked up from his weapon and saw Stonewall watching silently from behind the gathered soldiers. Surprisingly, he wasn't trying to disperse everyone. Tercio decided he would have to worry about the Imperator later. For now, there was a tough, well-trained, veteran soldier who wanted nothing more than to show up him and his new weapon.

Tercio and Rimeberry took their positions in the circle, shields up and weapons out.

"Tell ya what, Tercio. If you win, I'll drink three whole cups of that joy-lick stuff Bear's so crazy for next time we're out."

"And if I lose?"

"Then you gotta do it. And call me 'sir' for the rest of the week."

Tercio laughed. "Fat chance of that happening, but sure, why not?"

"Just try not to bash my face in with your fists if you think you're gonna lose, alright?"

Tercio glanced over to Polaris and cringed inwardly. They were never going to let him forget that day.

"Alright, then, you're on. Make your move if you're stallion enough."

They stood ready for several seconds, each trying to figure out their first move. Tercio felt fairly confident that he could best Rimeberry, though Rime did have a strength advantage. He would have to play to his edge in flexibility and speed. He visualized his attack and Nocturne jerked forward almost imperceptibly. It was, he realized, awaiting the fight just as much as he was.

As sword and soldier you are now bonded -- keep it safe, and it will keep you safe in return.

Celestia hadn't just been speaking figuratively. Luna's weapon was something truly special: an empathic blade, joined to its wielder. The way it conformed to his grip, kept his sword-hand warm even in the biting cold; he didn't truly understand it, but it felt like an extension of his own body. A predatory grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he came to understand the power it contained. He was ready.

Rimeberry lunged forward with his gladius clutched in his mouth, making a vicious stab at Tercio's upper legs, then followed with an upward slice that caromed off the edge of his shield. Without hesitation Rime knocked aside a sword strike and countered with a quick series of attacks and a powerful shield bash that sent Tercio reeling back. Tercio charged back with a vicious overhead strike that cut into the snow-covered dirt of the sparring ring, and as he brought his weapon back up he was met with a buck to the chest that dented his armor and sent him sprawling to the ground. He landed in a heap and cheers went up from Rime's supporters.

"That's one," the earth pony said in self-satisfaction.

"I should have seen that coming."

"Should have, but didn't."

Back in their ready positions, Tercio decided to be the aggressive one this time. He struck out with swing after swing of his magical weapon, each hit digging into Rime's tower shield and carving through the air with streams of glowing magic. Had his opponent been anyone else, he was sure they would have been distracted by the display. Nocturne sang with every attack and flashed with reflected sunlight. Rime hefted his shield to block an overhead attack, only to find Tercio spinning to the side at the last second and delivering a strong kick of his own to the stallion's ribs. A rush of air left Rime's lungs just as the tip of the longsword stopped just short his neck, shaving a strip of hairs as it came to rest.

"One each." Tercio offered a hand and helped Rimeberry to his hooves, impressed with the finesse his new weapon allowed him. The sword was a wonder to fight with, precise and deadly. Now the crowd was really into it, shouting and encouraging their favorite fighter, and more than a few bets exchanged hooves as the final round was about to begin.

"That's a nice sword ya got there," Rimeberry said. "Still not sure if you deserve to wield it, human. If it truly is the weapon of Luna then I await your inevitable destruction at the tip of her horn when she comes to reclaim it."

"I doubt very much she's coming back any time soon. Perhaps you need some more convincing, my stubborn friend?"

Rimeberry smirked. "We'll see. Come on, let's see what you can really do. Prove your worth, and I might decide you're not entirely useless after all."

Tercio clapped his sword against the side of his shield, feet firmly planted, and pushed off with a burst of speed. Initially it caught Rimeberry by surprise, causing the latter to quickly jump to the side and scramble to keep his stance in the slick snow and dirt that was rapidly becoming mud as they fought.

But Rime was a veteran soldier in his own right, and his years of training and combat experience quickly kicked in to give him the smallest of advantages in the fight. Trying to make gladius strikes his primary means of attack only invited Tercio to take advantage of the relatively unwieldy style, and only quick thinking saved him from a sword being brought down or sweeping in from the side. He blocked and parried and dodged, answering in kind, knowing he had the edge in strength and endurance.

It felt to Tercio that his knowledge was getting him nowhere. Rimeberry could not hope to trick him with magic or fly above him like a pegasus, but in a way it made him more dangerous; he would fight with good, old fashioned combat prowess. Tercio tried all manner of faints and misdirections, yet Rime did not fall for it even once. Battering at the earth pony's shield was like trying to cut into a thick tree, for all the good it was doing. He could feel himself slowly beginning to lose focus as he grew tired, his arms protesting with every swing and stab. Still he fought on, getting a second wind as a hard blow to Rime's helm with the pommel of his sword brought a brief window of opportunity. He swung diagonally, outside of the stalwart tower shield, but Rime brought up his buckler with little effort, using the momentum of his opponent's attack to send Tercio stumbling to the edge of the ring with a firm kick. Tercio recovered just before he would have stepped out, breathing heavily as he brought his weapon and shield back up. His muscles burned with the effort.

"Damnit!" he cursed to himself. What was he missing? He had used every advantage available to him, and still Rimeberry showed no signs of slowing down. Frustrated, he stepped forward with his shield covering him from ankle to neck, his sword facing out.

Nocturne jerked in his hand, its grip growing warmer. What was he doing wrong? He had always considered himself to be a strong fighter, a warrior who knew his way around a blade. And yet, he could not find enough of an opening to finish his opponent. Using the longsword took so much more out of him than his old gladius, but he could feel its power just waiting for him to exploit it. It was there, just below the surface, yet unreachable.

Slowly, as he approached the waiting Rimeberry, his focus tunneled until all he could see was the enemy. Rimeberry, standing there as if nothing was the matter, as if Tercio was no more than a mere recruit. He gritted his teeth and exhaled sharply, and he felt Nocturne thrum with energy, urging him to keep going.

Tercio and Rimeberry charged each other and met with a powerful collision of shields, neither willing to move back an inch. Rime attempted to find a weak point in Tercio's defenses, alternating stabs from his short sword and quick jabs from a dagger he'd secured to one of his forelegs with a length of fabric. Twice they drew blood from shallow wounds, and Tercio grunted in momentary pain.

As he finally landed a successful attack -- a shallow gash along Rimeberry's haunches -- his vision grew tinted with fog, red and creeping, at the edges of his sight.

Rimeberry dashed forward and brought his armored shoulder to bear, ramming it into Tercio's shield and stumbling the human despite his combat-ready stance. Multiple strikes dug into Tercio's armor or deflected off, but for every attack he was more than capable of defending in turn. Time after time the two met sword and shield, neither finding a way to end the battle.

Tercio was growing increasingly frustrated. If only he could find an opening! If only he were stronger! He needed victory so bad he could taste it, feel it in every fiber of his being. The sensation was palpable and alluring in ways he couldn't fully grasp.

Tercio dropped to a knee, his breathing becoming rapid and harsh as he felt a power come over him that was at once terrifying and wonderful in its familiarity. For the briefest of moments he knew, somewhere in the commotion of the attacks that still slammed into his shield, what was happening. It was like a flood of molten metal through his veins, and he fought to control himself.

"Stop this," he whispered to himself.

A dark tint of red washed over his vision. The thought of combat, the thrill of seeing the arterial sprays of blood as his enemy died screaming, was intoxicating. He was no longer tired. His arms no longer ached, his muscles no longer protested against his movements.

He felt powerful. Unstoppable.

With a primal shout he burst forward, sending Rimeberry sliding back, and began a vicious barrage of attacks that slowly but surely sent the stallion inching toward the edge of the ring. He was no longer looking for a break to end the fight. All he wanted was to see Rimeberry's shield torn away, tossed to the side like a play thing, that he could carve into his opponent and bury his sword up to the hilt. Distantly he heard Rimeberry curse as he was reduced to his buckler and gladius, and as the stallion attempted to recover his shield Tercio brought his sword up, ready to plunge it through Rimeberry's armor.

"No!" he said between gritted teeth. His arms brought Nocturne down in a death blow, landing to the side just enough to do no more than draw a slim stream of blood. He fell to a knee once more, dropping his shield and holding onto his sword that was stabbed point-down into the mud. "Not...again..."

The darkness inside of him, the power he could not put a name to, fought against his will. Rimeberry, confused by Tercio dropping his shield voluntarily, came in for another attack in the hopes of securing a victory. Tercio deftly deflected the gladius, grabbed Rimeberry by the pauldrons, and hurled him across the ring.

"I am in control," he spat, shutting his eyes tight. The sword burned in his hands, physically painful to hold, as if trying to escape his grasp. "I...am not someone's...trained animal!"

Rimeberry was up and on the offensive once more, but as he struck out Tercio met the blade with his own. Tercio grabbed the back of his helm and pulled him forward.

"Rime," he pleaded in a strained, angered voice, "it's happening...again..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rimeberry replied, struggling to pull away. "Let me go or end this already!"

"The anger. It's...trying..."

Rimeberry's eyes went wide, the memory of the assassin's spurting blood flashing before him as clear as day.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit!" He tried to jerk away from Tercio's grasp, but the human had a tight grip on his foreleg. Realizing he wasn't likely to get away, he instead tried to help Tercio resist whatever it was that had come over him."Come on, Tercio, fight it! You beat it once before, you bastard, and you can do it again!"

No one in the crowd seemed to know what was happening. It was clear that the fight had taken a strange turn, but to what extent?

In a rapid-fire flash of images Tercio saw himself tearing through the Praetorians. He saw countless dead at his feet, and the dying form of Celestia crushed between his powerful hands. Tears ran down his face at the glimpse of the future the darkness had in store for him, and he shook with rage and grief.

"I would never hurt her. Never!"

"Hurt who? Tercio! Hurt who?!"

Tercio looked up at Rimeberry, the urge to destroy him screaming through his mind, straining to take over.

"...Celestia."

Nocturne was no longer burning in his hands. At once it became cool, almost comforting, and a glow of white-tinted magic built at the tip of its blade. It grew until it was like a miniature sun, the gathered Praetorians having to shield their eyes from its brilliance. The energy rushed down the length of the blade, briefly gathered in the grip, and shot through his arm, flinging him back into the dirt. It twisted through his veins and traveled through his chest, glowing under his skin. Something shrieked in his head, terrible and shrill, until it was all he could hear...and then it stopped, mercifully silent. Blinking his eyes open, Tercio found not even a hint of the red that had so clouded his vision just seconds prior. He met Rimeberry's worried gaze, and felt only relief. His breathing returned to normal, and he slowly pulled himself to his feet.

Everyone was looking at him. They had seen the power inside threaten to come out, and those who had heard of his horrible deeds against Polaris and the assassin Lacertus had their weapons drawn. And yet, he felt a clarity he had not experienced since before the war, before he joined the Praetorians.

"Make way! Move it!" Imperator Stonewall pushed his way through the shocked crowd, a hoof on the sword at his side. "Krosus? What in the nine hells did you just do? What was that?"

Tercio looked down at himself in disbelief, covered in mud and melting snow.

"I've won," he said simply. "I've beaten it again, without bloodshed."

Stonewall eyed him skeptically.

"Are you...you, still?"

Tercio hefted Nocturne before him, as if he was seeing it for the first time.

"More than I have been in a very long time, sir."

Stonewall was skeptical and cautious, but nodded in approval all the same.

"I think we need to discuss a few things. Meet me in my tent once you've cleaned yourself up. The rest of you: show's over, get back to to your groups!"

As Tercio began to walk off, the crowd parting for him in stunned silence, Rimeberry called out to him.

"Wait, so...does this mean I win?"

"Take a seat, Krosus." Tercio did as he was asked, sitting atop a worn cushion opposite Stonewall in the large, private tent that was covered in maps and hastily discarded scrolls. Even during a training mission the old stallion had a warrior's mindset. "I think it's abundantly clear that we need to talk about some...issues that have arisen as of late. I want you to be truthful with me. No bullshit, no half-truths. Just honesty. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Tercio answered. He fretted about what the questions would be, though he knew at least one of them would be about his incident.

"Alright then." Stonewall poured a hot cup of some sort of dark liquid for himself and Tercio, handing one over. "Here, it'll warm you up and help with your nerves." Tercio tried it, finding it bitter and a little unpleasant, but it was better than nothing. "First time having coffee? The wife picked some up when she visited Zevran a while back. They're crazy about it there. Better than that tea crap everyone else seems to like so much, if you ask me." Tercio hadn't asked, but he knew better than to question Stonewall's tastes. "So, let's just get the obvious one out of the way: what in the hell happened out there? Was it another one of your 'lapses'?"

"For lack of a better word, yes."

"Go on."

Tercio took another sip of his "coffee", thankful that it gave him a few seconds to think.

"When I was sparring with Rimeberry I felt fine. We were evenly matched, and he is a skilled opponent. At some point, however, I began to feel myself growing frustrated that I could not break his defenses. Whether this 'power' inside of me began to feed on that, I can't say, but I knew it was happening once I began seeing blood everywhere I looked."

"Like before you attacked Polaris. Or the assassin."

"Yes," he nodded. "It was the same sort of gnawing hatred that steadily grew until it was all I could focus on. I didn't just want to defeat Rime, I wanted to hurt him, to kill him. It terrifies me that such a thing is able to come out seemingly whenever it pleases. It's been so long since it last happened, I thought that maybe...maybe this time I could stop it before it started."

Stonewall was quiet for a time, studying Tercio carefully.

"Did Rimeberry say fal--that word? Did he utter it at any point? Did anyone else?"

"No, sir, not that I know of. It's strange; every other time I've lost control of myself it was because of that damnable deertongue word, like some sort of built-in trigger. But when I was out in the ring it was like the mere existence of frustration and anger was enough to bring it to the surface." He struck his fist against his chest. "It tried to control me, but I would not give in. Not this time. It was the strangest feeling, as if I was fighting someone else inside my own body." He didn't mention that it was the thought of Celestia that had once again saved him.

"So what you're saying, if I understand properly, is you can control it now?"

Tercio shrugged. "I don't know, not for sure. If someone were to use that certain word I might fall back to my more primal ways, but I'm slowly learning how to fight back. I was able to drag myself back from the rage that resulted in the assassin's death; perhaps this darkness inside of me is growing desperate, looking for a new way to let itself take over. That could be why I nearly lost myself in the ring."

Stonewall rubbed his chin in thought. "You say that like it's alive, instead of some part of you that you do your best to hide."

"Perhaps it is. If it is not, then I am truly fighting against my own nature, which is somehow more frightening." Tercio set his cup to the side, hesitating to ask the question that was on his mind. "Sir, do you ever regret my joining the Praetorians? Do you still believe me a threat?"

Stonewall leaned back against a low table and exhaled loudly. "Hell of a question. Do I think you're a threat? You can be. The fact that a simple word -- and now, apparently, the rush of combat -- can cause you to lose all pretense of self-control is something I worry about, certainly. You have direct access to the Princess herself, and were it purely my choice I would not keep you on any sort of duty that kept you near her without supervision. But Celestia is insistent that I treat you like anyone else. She's been very insistent as of late, come to think of it..."

If only he knew why, Tercio thought in amusement.

"That said, you do seem to be able to negate this...darkness, as you call it...to some degree. It's a start. There may be hope for you yet. The others think you're a decent enough leader, though that confidence may be shaken after today's little display. We'll see how it pans out."

The sound of combat, of steel against steel, rang out as the Praetorians started their training in earnest.

"To answer your other question: no, I don't regret you joining up with us. Had you not been there when the followers of Nightmare Moon attacked us, it's entirely possible none of us would have lived to see today. Celestia saw something in you back when you were with the Royal Guard, and I've been around her long enough to know that her hunches are usually right. You can fight damn well enough, what with that lanky body of yours. So long as you don't flip out and try to murder all of us, you're more than welcome in the Praetorian Guard. Just don't let it go to your head. And for the love of the goddesses, Krosus, if you feel yourself slipping into that damnable rage again don't try to hide it. We'll do what we can to help you."

"Of course, sir." Tercio felt a welling of pride; Stonewall approved of him, in his own way. It was high praise indeed. The Imperator wasn't exactly one for smiles and pats on the shoulder, so he took what he could get.

"Good, that's what I like to hear. Before you go, there's two other things I want to discuss in brief." He pointed to the exquisite sword at Tercio's side, now dirtied by combat. Tercio would have to give it a good cleaning later. "Where in the hell did you get that thing? You know what that is, don't you?"

"The blade of Princess Luna, sir, yes. It was a gift from Princess Celestia for saving her life in the crystal cavern. She said it should be wielded by someone 'pure of heart and mind'. How she figured that person is myself, I do not believe I'll ever know."

Stonewall laughed. "Pure of heart and mind, eh? Maybe she doesn't know you as well as she thinks. Still, it's ultimately her decision. It's a fine weapon, and you should guard it with your life. When I heard the commotion and saw you holding it I had to stand there and make sure my eyes weren't playing a trick on me. It was like stepping back in time."

"Sir?"

"I had the great pleasure of sparring against Luna many years ago, back in my youth. I'll never forget the first time I saw it...I thought it was second only to Luna herself in its beauty." He waved the memory away with his hoof. "Ah, but I doubt you want to hear an old stallion ramble on about his misplaced affections."

Tercio cupped the pommel in his hand, feeling a light tingle as his fingers brushed the magical sapphire that swirled with energy.

"Sir, this is going to sound like a strange question, but...do you think a weapon can be, well, alive?"

The Imperator jerked his head back. "What do you mean, 'alive'? Is there something I should know?"

"It's just that, when I was fighting with Rimeberry, I could feel Nocturne -- that's its name, according to Celestia -- growing eager for battle. If I hold it tightly I can...hear it. Like many distant voices"

"First you say you're fighting with yourself for control of your own body, and now you hear voices when you carry this 'Nocturne'? Are you sure you haven't gone mad?"

"I know how it sounds, but it's different in this case. It's not a threatening feeling, but rather, a comforting one. When I fight it is as if the sword is an extension of my body, and I feel supremely confident. As a matter of fact, I believe it was what helped me fight off the blood rage before it could take over."

Stonewall stood up and stretched, taking a quick moment to check on the soldiers outside. Satisfied, he returned to his former spot but stayed standing.

"Yeah, I saw the glowy shit too. Everyone did. Magic is a strange thing indeed. I hope you're right about it being a force for good."

"It is, sir. I could feel it."

"If you say so, Krosus. It's possible your sword is alive, in a sense. I have heard of empathic blades; that is, a weapon that forms a connection with its wielder, but typically it is reserved for royalty, and for good reason: Celestia and Luna have had many years to learn the intricacies of such magic. They control heavenly bodies, so a simple sword is not an issue. But stallions like you and I? Well, stallions like me and whatever the hell it is you're supposed to be? We can't even float a dust mote. I'm not saying you're unfit to carry Luna's weapon, as that decision has already been made for you, but...just be careful, alright? There are magics at work here that we cannot possibly understand."

"Yes, sir. Will that be all?"

"Not quite. I have something I want you to explain to me before you rejoin the others." Stonewall pulled a scroll from a nearby table and unrolled it, a large symbol taking up much of the top right corner. "Do you know what this is?"

Tercio shook his head. "Beyond the obvious answer of it being a scroll, I can't say I do."

"This, Centurion Krosus" Stonewall explained as he stepped forward and held it out for Tercio to read,"is a writ of authorized leave, sent down from, and signed by, General Marblestone in Marestopholous. We just received it this morning, before the march. Look familiar?"

"Not in the least. Is there something I should know?"

"I should ask you the same. For some reason your name has been bumped to the top of the list for holiday leave. Just how damn well connected are you, anyway? It's going to be weeks before most of us get some time away from Canterlot proper."

Tercio took the scroll and read through it multiple times. It looked like Sapphire was a mare of her word after all.

"I have never met this General Marblestone, sir. I couldn't say why this has come to be."

Clearly confused by the situation, Stonewall took the scroll back and rolled it up before adding it to the others.

"Well whatever the case, regardless of whomever you do or do not know, I have my orders. That means you have yours. So, effective one week from today, you will be sent back to Shadyvale--"

"Summervale, sir."

"--Summervale, then, on leave for a period of no less than one week and no greater than twelve days. I'll have to see what the duty rosters look like, but we should be able to get you a decent period of rest. Don't go getting all fat and lazy on me. That's an order."

Tercio laughed. "As you say, sir."

"Good, glad we understand each other." Stonewall motioned to the tent's entrance before going back to one of the myriad maps spread out before him. "Right, that's all I've got for you, Krosus. You're free to go. Try not to murder anyone out there, will you?"

Tercio quickly gathered his helm and shield and left the Imperator to his work. Most of the stallions were too busy fighting one another to notice him as he entered the blindingly bright daylight once again, though a few stared at him as he passed. He didn't care; he was too busy enjoying the prospect of being home again. As soon as he was able, he decided, he would let his parents know. He could nearly see the reaction on his mother's face already.

"You alright, Tercio?" Rimeberry asked him, a bandage over the wound on his flank. "Stonewall didn't tear you a new asshole, did he?"

"I'm quite fine, my friend," Tercio reassured the stallion. "But I thank you for your concern. And more so, I thank you for helping me fight back against the madness that threatened to overcome me. It does not control me like it used to, not anymore."

"Well that's good. Gave me a scare, you know?"

"I know. I hated for everyone to see me like that. Guess there's no hiding it now, is there? Also, I must apologize for injuring you. It's not bad, is it?"

Rime looked at the bloody gauze and shrugged. "I've had worse. We bleed in the ring so that we won't bleed in battle, right?"

"So long as it's not us doing the bleeding at the end of the human's sword," Anarius added as he trotted to their side and took a long pull from his water skin. "What the hell happened to you? Is this a human thing? Because I feel I must be honest here: I am not comfortable with the thought of one of our own turning against us at a moment's notice."

Others echoed his sentiment. Tercio cringed inwardly at the implication, but he knew they were right.

"I understand your concerns, my brothers, but I assure you I am in control of my own will. There are merely some...complications at times. I am sure even the newest of you have heard the stories by now. There will not be another incident like with Polaris, I swear to you"

"If you say so."

Thunderburst removed his helm as he stepped closer. "Look, Tercio; I don't understand what's causing this to happen to you, and I know we've had our differences, and still do, but at the end of the day you're still one of us. After that display in the cave against the assassin, I can't doubt you have our best interests in mind. So no matter what some of us may think of you at times, we'd still fight alongside you any day. Especially after you stopped that assassin from lopping off my head in addition to my leg." He shrugged. "I just wanted to say that."

Tercio tipped his spear and bowed his head. "Thank you, Thunderburst. That means a lot to me. I am just a soldier, like all of you, no more or less. Different though I may be in appearance, we are all Equestrian at heart. I would fight and die for any one of you."

"Aye," the others in the group answered.

A pang of guilt tugged at Tercio's chest; could he really leave the others behind in Canterlot while he went home, simply because Sapphire had found some semblance of conscience and remorse over a heinous action? He longed to see his parents and his brother again, but he was not the only one with a family.

He decided, then and there, that he would make it right for as many of them as he could. Sapphire may have known generals and traders and artists, but she wasn't the only one with connections.