Victus stood over his brother with tears streaming down his face as blood pooled at his hooves and slowly froze against the hard soil. It had all happened so fast that it felt like a terrible dream. Tercio was gone, and yet he could not accept it. He would not accept it. There had to be something he could do!

Frantically he upended a small medical pouch. Bandages, healing salves and potions tumbled into the snow, and he searched through them with a desperate resolve. He just needed to find the small vials of powder, and then everything would be fine. He could still save Tercio.

"Hold on, brother," he said pleadingly as he uncorked the glass tubes. "Just hold on. I can stop the bleeding."

He wiped the tears from his eyes and mixed the grey and white powders together. They smoked and sizzled as they came in contact with the air, and as they began to ignite he slapped the mixtures over both sides of Tercio's sword wound. Nocturne -- that damnable blade that had been nothing but a lie -- had punctured just below the heart. Maybe it had missed it entirely. There was still hope.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this again. You can yell at me all you like when you're well."

Twin gouts of dark red flame spurted from the bloody entry and exit wounds, forming a seal of charred flesh that held tight against the steel of the weapon that still impaled Tercio's body. It was better to leave an arrow in than to rip it out, wasn't it? A sword could work the same way, he reasoned. If he could just get Tercio stabilized, he could get him to an apothecary.

Victus took his brother's head in his bloodied hooves, smearing dark crimson across his cheeks as he tried to wake him. There was so much of it on the ground, soaked into his clothing. More blood than he'd ever seen.

"It's okay, Tercio, I'm here," he said, his voice faltering. "Please wake up. You can't die here..."

He kept looking to Tercio's chest, hoping to see it rise and fall. There was only the stillness of death, the same look he'd seen so many times before in battle.

"Tercio!" Victus shook him by the shoulders as hard as he could and shouted in desperation. "Tercio!"

Darkness. Vast, unending darkness. As the sword plunged into his body and drained him of his very essence, Tercio fought against the black magic that had rapidly consumed him. Trapped within his own mind, trapped in a point between life and death, he watched the twisting tendrils overtake him like a wave crawling up the shore, warping his thoughts and feeding upon his agony. It clashed in great, thundering hammer-blows against walls of pure light, the last remnants of Nocturne's power.

A distant voice, as if carried on the wind, pleaded and begged, and he knew it to belong to his brother. He wanted to call out, to scream, but there was only blinding pain. The thing within him delighted at his misery and mocked him in unknowable tongues. Seconds felt like hours as he struggled to keep himself from slipping into the embrace of death -- or worse, losing himself to the power within once and for all. His will was strong, but he knew he was losing the battle.

Fight it, he thought, and heard his words echo around him. The light flexed and contorted to resist its foe. Fight it, Nocturne!

With every passing moment he could feel the darkness corrupting him, reshaping his mind to its own purposes. The hot, cutting bite of the sword spread through his body. Nocturne had shown him the way, terrible though it was, and he'd trusted it without apprehension. In the end, it seemed, not even that had been enough.

Now, as the last blur of consciousness slipped away, he wished only for a quick death.

Please, don't let me fall like Luna...

The light faded into a single point, infinitely small against the encroaching ocean of shapeless eternity.

He'd been so close.

Victus sat at his brother's side for a long time, unable and unwilling to leave him. He lost track of time as the sun started to set over the distant mountains, and only when it began to grow dark did he finally move from his spot. He stood up, weak and defeated, a pile of bloodied bandages and spent medical supplies at his hooves.

"How am I supposed to explain to Mother and Father what happened here?" he asked quietly. "I just...I don't know what to do. I hate the gods for taking you from me."

He stepped around to Tercio's head and lifted him by the shoulders, straining as he slowly pulled him away from the frozen patch of red that had stained the earth and snow. It would be well past dark before they were within sight of home.

"I'm not going to leave you here for the beasts, no matter how long it takes."

Tercio was heavy in his grasp, and he was so exhausted. He did not even have the strength to cry anymore. The minutes dragged on as he continued to pull his brother, turning to hours. Frequently he had to stop and catch his breath, but still he would not give up.

Here and there he passed familiar places; a clawed, ravaged stump of a tree where he and a teen-aged Tercio had nearly run into a manticore, saved only by a passing rabbit drawing the creature's attention.

A clearing that had served as a secret meeting place, a refuge from the mocking, cruel words of the other young school children.

A pitted and pock-marked old evergreen, a remnant of the first time their father had taught them to use a bow and arrow. Victus had missed the target completely for his first dozen attempts; Tercio could hardly nock the arrow without it slipping off the string and smacking him in the face.

"I never did ask if your aim had improved," Victus said with a weak laugh and a lump in his throat.

A short time later he found himself in a rocky clearing, the ground too rough and craggy to easily drag Tercio through. Every bump and jostle clanged the tip of the royal sword still embedded in Tercio's body against the ground. It did not take long for Victus to realize he would not be able to continue without removing it. As well, he did not want to have to present his brother's body to his parents with a bloodied sword lodged in it. It would be hard enough to face them already.

"Forgive me for this," he said as he placed his hooves around the hilt of Nocturne. To his surprise it did not burn him, or try to move away from his grip. It simply reflected the pale light of the moon, just another sword that had lost its owner.

He gave a firm tug and lifted up, but it would not budge. Again he tried, pulling with all of his strength, but succeeded only in lifting Tercio's back from the ground by a few inches.

As he released the sword with a swear, something caught his eye. The large sapphire embedded into the pommel had caught the moonlight and begun to glow a strange, almost imperceptible blue. He stepped back, and Victus saw that the moonlight itself seemed to be focused into a thin beam that penetrated the cover of the bare branches overhead.

There came a faint sound, like distant chimes, and he found himself unable to look away from Nocturne's form. The soft tinkling swirled around him, ethereal and delicate, and at the very edge of his hearing he swore he could make out a voice lost on the wind. What was it Tercio had said? The sword was attuned to him, alive with unknowable magics. It was only natural that it would now mourn the loss of the one it had fought with.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, feeling strange at the thought of speaking to a weapon. "I tried, but...it was beyond my abilities. He's gone." Hearing his own words felt like a hammer-blow to his heart. Tears streaked down his face and matted his bloody, dirty coat. "I'm so sorry."

Once again he grasped the sword between his hooves, feeling the cold metal thrum with energy, and pulled with a strained grunt. It would not budge even the smallest distance. Frustrated and overwhelmed by grief, he leaned against the blade, resting his head against the pommel, and closed his eyes. The winds of the forest comforted and caressed him, and in that moment he wished he was a colt once more, running through the woods with his brother, free of war and evil and spite.

Victus.

The distant voice snapped into sudden clarity, caring and feminine. In an instant he collapsed where he stood, splaying on top of Tercio's body. He did not feel the runners of pure magic streak through him, cradling his thoughts like a mother embracing her child, nor did he witness Nocturne shining a beacon of light skyward. He felt, and saw, only darkness.

It was, to his mind's eye, an endless expanse of nothing. Darker than any night, a void of impossible distance, yet claustrophobic in its confines. Victus felt his heart gripped with fear. Had the force inside Tercio somehow managed to consume him as well?

Slowly, he grew aware of a great battle that was being waged within this strange place, powerful forces of good and evil, light and darkness, and he knew with absolute clarity that some part of Tercio yet lived -- but he was losing, and not even the magic of Luna's sword could resist the darkness forever. Nocturne had brought him here, wherever here was, in a moment of desperation.

There came a sensation of warmth and comfort as powerful magic swept over him like a blanket of pale moonlight, and he gave himself willingly to it, watching it grow and strengthen with every moment as it fed off his determination.

The love of a sibling. A struggle against corruption. Never again.

The voice floated around him, so familiar in its tone. Before his eyes he saw himself bowing to Princess Luna, clad in the basic uniform of an Equestrian Guard. It had been years since that day, and yet, he could recall everything she had said. Nocturne spoke to him in that voice, reached into his past and found the once-loving face of its first owner.

It still remembered, still longed to be reunited with her. But it had been unable to stop her fall from grace. It would not let Tercio suffer the same fate.

Never again.

His incorporeal form was given shape in a flash. He was taller, stronger than he'd ever felt, and with it came a great resolve. He looked down at himself as the tendrils of light formed into ancient runes that covered his skin and trailed from his wings. Victus would be the instrument of Nocturne's will.

But the darkness was not idle. It roared and lashed out with immaterial barbs from all sides, a twisting mass of smoke and pitch. A barrier of light formed over him in an instant, scorching and burning the creature wherever it touched.

Victus raised a hoof, and a wave of magic shot out into the vast expanse. His ethereal body reacted instantly; he needed only will it, and it happened.

Nocturne wordlessly guided him through the nothingness, staving off attacks again and again, lashing out with blades of light and powerful spells. The darkness was scared. Victus could sense it. It only made him stronger.

A massive pillar of oily flesh towered over him, then came crashing down with a force to rival the most powerful magics ever witnessed in Equestria. Victus dashed to the side with a flap of his wings, tearing it in half with a thought before it roiled away.

A terrible roar sounded from everywhere at once, as loud as a thunderclap, and then it was before him: a black, churning shape that twisted into itself, like a ball of writhing snakes. It grew and contorted until it took on a vaguely human shape, and from its arms came a rush of dark liquid. It plowed into Victus like a tidal wave, tossing him end over end as thousands of shapeless mouths sought to break through his defenses, screaming and screeching as they were repulsed by Nocturne's might.

Victus focused and sent out a shock wave that turned them to ash. This new power was beyond anything he had imagined, the strength of a demigod, a mighty weapon for an equally mighty being. And now it was using him to exact vengeance against the evil that had so corrupted Luna, and was now seeking to do the same to his brother.

He felt a growing rage at the grief it had caused him, the feeling of hopelessness and desperation as Tercio had died in his arms, and with a shout he darted forward on wings of light, so fast that everything became a blur. The darkness had thrived on anger and hatred, and now, Victus swore, it would be destroyed in kind. He smashed through the torso of the massive creature, showering viscous ooze into the netherworldly abyss, then sliced through its arm with a blade of magic. In and out he moved, twisting around it, stabbing into it with unbelievable speed as he let Nocturne take control of his body. They were one, joined in their resentment of Tercio's tormentor, desperate to save him.

With precise movements he removed great chunks of its body and smashed through its tendrils, sending out magical torrents that crushed it like battering rams.

The darkness retreated, reshaping itself, and turned into a great maw and swallowed him whole, wrapping around him with crushing force. Tighter and tighter it constricted, cracking the shield of light and burning his body in a final attempt to destroy him. Victus cried out in pain and burst from the creature's form, flying away with faltering flaps. The briefest touch had drained him immensely, and for the first time he feared what would happen to him.

But then he heard the voice once more. It sounded weak, but it implored him to carry out one final act of defiance. It would be their -- and Tercio's -- only hope.

I understand, he said in his thoughts, seeing the moment play out before him like a premonition. Thank you, Nocturne.

As he bowed his head he felt an immense welling of power build from within, growing and strengthening until he shone like a great beacon in the night. The darkness was coming for him like a devouring worm, and he took off like a bolt of lightning, straight into its monstrous embrace, letting himself be taken to its very center. The agony was indescribable, and he was sure his very being would be torn apart if even another moment passed.

And there, just out of reach, was the battered apparition of Tercio, floating motionless as hundreds of writhing blades pierced his body. With a surge of might he pushed through the pain and grasped Tercio in his forelegs, purging the darkness from his body.

A blinding flash and countless beams of light pulsed outward in all directions. He would not fail.

Never again.

Victus awoke with a pained gasp and retched onto the ground. He struggled to get to his hooves, but he was more exhausted than he'd ever felt in his life, and he could only weakly lift his head. The sword lodged in Tercio's body was glowing pure white, casting its magic in all directions. For a brief moment he wondered if he'd imagined the entire thing.

Then a wave of force sent him flying back, skidding along the ground and tumbling through the snow, before coming to a rest in a heap against a dead tree. Dazed, he turned a hopeful eye to his brother.

The sword was floating above Tercio with its point downward, no longer slick with blood, and Victus had to shield his eyes against its shining brilliance. With a loud shearing of metal he saw a crack form at the pommel, then expand down to the hilt, where it branched off a dozen times. The light faded, slowly, as the sword of Luna lost its silvery sheen. Its runes glowed once, then died, as they were torn asunder by the shattering weapon.

The weapon crumbled into pieces of magical steel, then turned into glittering dust, scattering into the night on a gust of wind.

Victus dragged himself along the ground, every inch of his body aching. Tercio wasn't moving. He tried to call out, but he could manage no more than a whisper. He collapsed beside his brother, his body unable and unwilling to go any further, and slipped into unconsciousness -- just as Tercio took his first breath.