New Krakhoof, Ponland. March 18th. Year 20 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2050 human calendar)

Prince Blueblood tried to make sure his eye didn’t visibly twitch as he looked over the reports he had been sent. The sudden increase in Solaminan military presence had set him back by several days and the detour had taken them through a particularly wild patch of forest. It had been days since he had been able take a decent bath and despite his better judgment he felt ready to scream at somepony to let out his frustrations.

His own personal hygiene aside, the Empire’s activities alone were almost enough to drive him to pull his mane out.

In front of him were all of his attendants, adjutants, officers and anypony else responsible for the column’s organisation. They filled his tent both with their bodies and their endless bickering. Few of them were able to agree on any decisions by themselves.

“If we don’t find a replacement wheel for the aft wagon we’ll have to abandon it,” one of his various camp followers stated. Breakdowns had become much more common since they had been forced to detour around the increasingly prevalent Imperial presence.

“We don’t have any more replacements with us,” another pony said, “we either abandon it…” Various ponies exploded in anger and indignation at the statement, but the pony continued regardless. “Or we nail the spoke with a simple brace.”

“Yeah that’ll work,” one of the weary adjutants said in a sarcastic tone. “For a few miles - then it’ll break again and be that much weaker the next time we take your advice and patch it up.”

“Well maybe we could try and find some new replacements in Krakhoof,” another pony cautiously suggested, which led to even louder exclamations from several other ponies in the room.

Finally tired of the endless arguments, Blueblood rapped his hoof on the foldable table that lay in front of him. It took nearly a minute of endless tapping before every pony in the tent settled down to regard their prince. Sighing heavily, Blueblood lifted his head to look everypony in the eye.

“I’ve made a decision,” he said simply. “I have been listening to as many of your concerns as possible, and I’ve finally decided what we’ll do about all of… this.” He waved his hand over the various papers that gave a depressive report of their situation. “Our liaison is in the city of Krakhoof,” he began, several ponies giving satisfied smiles at his words whilst others grimaced slightly. “Therefore we will seek our supplies there. However we will be discreet, and our top priority will remain meeting with our contact.”

***

Royal Duty took several deep breaths as the tent erupted into noise once again. None of them were questioning the prince’s decision now. Instead they were discussing the best way to go about obtaining supplies from Krakhoof, how to defend their current encampment and make the most of their existing resources.

He himself had been taking notes, his quill rapidly scratching a rough, shorthand scrawl as he kept track of as many details as possible. He was trying to gather as much information as he possibly could about his peers and superiors, trying to gauge their moods, their motivations, their general dispositions.

“Royal Duty!” The young Unicorn’s head shot up as he heard the prince’s voice cut through the general bustle of the tent. He immediately made his way through the huddling ponies, taking care not to bump or upset any of them until he stood before Prince Blueblood.

“Your highness,” he said with a slightly bow of his head.

“Glad to see you’re attentive,” Prince Blueblood replied as he regarded the young adjutant. He had found the Unicorn to be useful and diligent enough, a decent addition to his entourage and somepony who hadn’t let down Magnus’ recommendation yet.

“Thank you, your highness,” Royal Duty replied nervously, waiting for his prince to finally tell him what he wanted of him.

“To put things simply,” Blueblood began, “I want you to liaise with our contact with the Resistance.”

Royal Duty’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Your highness?” he said questioningly. “Apologies, but what do you mean?”

Blueblood smirked, bemused by his new adjutant’s reaction.

“I mean,” he said, “that I want you to meet with the agent the Resistance has planted in Krakhoof and recruit her.”

He gazed deeply down onto Royal Duty, gauging his reaction. Aware that he was being evaluated, Royal Duty straightened up and fixed a determined look on his face.

“As you command, your highness,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Excellent,” Blueblood said with a smile, “According to our sources she is based at the Tipping Wagon, a small inn somewhere on Sunshine Street in the eastern residential quarter. You will be looking for a light pink Unicorn with a magenta and teal mane, most likely working as one of the serving mares. She will know who you are by the code phrase ‘It looks like it will be a dark night tonight’. If she replies with ‘Yes. There are likely to be long shadows’ then you will know it is her.”

Royal Duty ran the two phrases over and over in his head, memorising them. “Understood, your highness. I will just go and prepare and then leave with the supply runners.”

***

New Krakhoof. Ponland. March 18th. Year 20 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2050 human calendar)

Krakhoof wasn't exactly a vibrant metropolis when compared to the major cities of the Empire but in Mareope, it was one of the grander settlements. Like most cities on the continent it was surrounded by a sturdy wall that kept out the various threats that had also populated the Mareopean Continent and had several fortified citadels for the ponies to retreat to should an attack take place.

Of course the city inside of the walls was a bit more typical of the Empire. It had the homely form of architecture that many Equestrians were fond of with an imperial touch to it. The slender Canterlotian towers couldn’t be found here and instead were replaced by more practical highrises reminiscent of Manehatten skyscrapers.

Royal Duty tried to keep a low profile. He had shed his uniform and replaced it with a more generic brown cloak and saddlebags requisitioned from some of the camp followers. He had separated from the supply runners just before they had left the shelter of the woods, hanging back whilst the teams of ponies and their small wagons went on ahead.

Having been raised under the gothic shadow of the Midnight Castle and lived within the somewhat morbid city that sheltered at it’s feet, Royal Duty found the brighter aesthetic of Krakhoof to be mildly alien.

As he passed through the gate he tried to maintain a look of innocence, only idly gazing at the guards and defences that watched over the main gate into the city. That wall was nearly four metres thick and the gateway showed they had spared no expense in reinforcing it. Royal Duty noted there were two separate portcullises and a number of murder holes all of which protected the massive enchanted doors that would have barred entrance into Krakhoof itself.

Making his way through the gateway he finally entered the city proper.

Whoever had built Krakhoof had planned it accordingly as a wide avenue immediately led from the gate into the heart of the city. Orienting himself so that he was facing east, Royal Duty tried to find a sign that would help lead him to the eastern sector.

***

Sunshine Street wasn’t exactly that extravagant an avenue. It was only a few metres wide and the poorer quality of the houses and other buildings revealed the class of ponies it was built to cater towards.

Royal Duty casually trotted down the street, trying to remain aware of his surroundings without appearing suspicious. He had seen plenty of guards on patrol but thankfully his disguise was working. It appeared Krakhoof got enough travellers for them to develop a rather loose attitude towards traffic from the countryside.

Whilst the architecture was still rather unfamiliar he easily recognised the sounds and smells of the city. The entire experience was comforting to him, especially after so many days camping in the wilderness.

Turning his attention back to his mission he tried to find the Tipping Wagon. The street seemed to be some kind of visitors sector, with cheap hotels, pubs and travelers inns dotting the area. There were ponies in travelling gear wandering back and forth, checking prices and taking account of their expenses. The entire thing helped him blend in and avoid suspicion.

Eventually he found an inn with a sign that showed a wagon on its side, The Tipping Wagon written underneath in a large yellow font.

Smiling slightly at his discovery, Royal Duty walked up to the inn. He was careful to make sure that he didn’t appear too anxious to get inside. Whilst there were plenty of travellers walking in and out of the building his actions would look very suspicious if he wasn’t careful.

The Tipping Wagon was a rather simple inn. There were plenty of tables and chairs spread around the room with a bar at the other end and a flight of stairs on the right end wall. wanting to blend in, Royal Duty set off to one of the corner tables, taking an empty seat and sitting down to plan his next move.

A young Pegasus mare, little more than a filly, trotted up to him, a tray with several empty pewter cups balanced between her wings.

“D’you want anything?” she asked cheerily.

“Uh, water, thank you,” Royal Duty said carefully, “I’m parched.”

He smiled in what he hoped was a nonchalant and disarming fashion.

“Right y’are,” the mare responded and set off for the bar.

Settling into his seat, he then went through his saddle bag. He had packed some basic supplies, a blanket, a rollable sleeping mat, a few water skins and a large dagger, all traveller’s gear. However sequestered away was a book, ‘Virtues of the Kingdom’. The book had been a gift from his father when he was a colt and detailed the history behind Equestria’s moral principles and ethics. It wasn’t illegal but the book wasn’t exactly popular either in the modern empire. To most, if they knew it even existed, the book was considered a niche philosophical text, made even more unpopular by the fact that it was also very dense. Royal Duty had been forced to read and reread it until he understood the jumble of words that were printed on each page. However his father had insisted he become a learned stallion and Royal Duty had later discovered that if he wanted to be a Necromancer he had to be well read. Therefore he had persevered and whilst the actual philosophy still escaped him at times he found the history behind the virtues and their embodiments fascinating.

“You like reading?” a voice suddenly said. Royal Duty looked up from the book and saw a light pink Unicorn mare with a magenta and teal mane standing in front of him. She had a tray similar to the previous serving mare’s in her magical grip and she wore a fairly flippant expression.

“Uh...yes,” Royal Duty said, unsure of what to make of the mare. Was this his contact? How was he supposed to recite the code-phrase without it sounding weird and suspicious?

“That looks like a thick read,” the mare continued, “we don’t normally get ponies that interested in reading. Are you some kind of teacher or something?”

“Oh no, no,” Royal Duty replied, waving his free hoof and smiling slightly, “I’m a student of sorts. just looking for a place to stay while I go south.”

“We don’t get many students,” the mare said with an inquisitive smirk, “you new in Krakhoof? You don’t sound like a local.”

“Oh no, I’m from Trottingham, originally anyways” Royal Duty replied as he cobbled together a story, “I’ve been spending most of my time in Marelin in Germareny. I’m just going down to Hoothens to see some relatives.”

The mare puffed her cheeks as she let out a long sigh in surprise. “Whooah, that’s a long way to go. A bit dangerous too these days. I’ve heard there’s all kinds of stuff roaming the forests now. You can’t be too careful.”

“Yeah,” Royal Duty then said, spotting an opportunity to test her, “It looks like it will be dark tonight. Can’t be too careful.”

To his disappointment the mare didn’t show any sign of recognising the phrase. Then a second later she spoke.

“Yes. There are likely to be long shadows. Best to find somewhere safe.” She winked at him. “My room’s the third one on the left. Meet me there in an hour.”

Royal Duty blinked slightly and then nodded to her. Winking again she set off into the crowd to return the tray to the bar. He took a quick glance at her flank, finding she had a cutie mark depicting a cup wrapped in a blanket. The first serving mare returned with a full tray.

“Yer water,” she said.

Royal Duty looked into his bag and took out a bag of bits the prince had given him for the mission and pulled out two.

“Keep the change,” he said to her and took one of the pewter cups she had offered him.

Relaxing slightly, he returned to his book, occasionally sipping his water whilst he perused the chapter on Loyalty.

The hour went by fairly slowly. After finishing Loyalty he moved onto Integrity, the subsection of the chapter. Occasionally he would glance up to see what his contact was doing. He tried to make his observations look nonchalant, or at least mundanely unsuspicious.

Finally he noticed the mare heading for the stairs. He guessed that it must have been long enough for the appointed time and so he marked the page he was currently reading, gathered his belongings and moved up from his seat. After spending a few seconds jostling his way through the, now very full, seats he made it to the stairs and climbed up.

The second floor of the Tipping Wagon was about as unassuming as its first floor. A wooden hallway dotted by doors that doubtlessly led to rooms lay in front of him. He could see another flight of stairs in the left-hoof side of the hall that led to another floor.

“Okay,” Royal Duty muttered to himself as he collected his thoughts, “she said third on the left.” Finding the door he walked over to it. Taking a deep breath he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a familiar voice replied in a cheeky, sing-song fashion.

Royal Duty wrapped the doorknob in his magic and twisted. He opened the door casually and walked in, not wanting to attract the attention of anypony who might walk into the hall and find him suspicious.

Walking into the room, he saw the room was a generically decorated and furnished. There was a drab double bed, colourless white curtains, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. A desk and chair were set up by the opposite wall and sitting in the chair, half-turned towards the door was the mare.

“You mind shutting the door?” she asked.

Slowly closing the door, Royal Duty turned to face his contact, keeping his magic ready to grab his short, service blade in case anything went wrong.

“So to business,” the mare said, “I assume you’re my contact, a little young but I’m not one to talk.”

Royal Duty wasn’t sure what to make of the mare, she was talking to him in a casual, jokey manner.

“Yes,” he replied, mustering up as much of his professionalism as possible yet keeping his voice quiet in order to avoid other ponies from overhearing. “I am Royal Duty, corporal and necromancer acolyte 1st class and personal adjutant to his royal highness Prince Blueblood.”

The mare suddenly became much more serious. She straightened in her seat visibly, a more professional expression appearing on her face.

“A pleasure,” she said, the playfulness now much more subdued. “I am Young Nan, private and infiltrator 1st class of the New Equestrian Resistance. I was stationed here a week ago to receive you.”

“Young Nan?” Royal Duty asked incredulously before he could rein in his thoughts.

A smirk grew over her face as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah I got it from my mum. It’s a weird one.”

“Oh sorry,” Royal Duty tried to backpedal, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Nah, nah,” Young Nan cut back in, waving her hoof in a dismissive fashion, “I get it all the time. It’s not a problem. Anyway let’s actually get to business.”

Setting her hoof back down she turned to look at Royal Duty intently.

“Right,” Royal Duty replied in return, walking over to the bed and sitting himself down on it. “I’ve been sent to guide you to where the prince’s entourage is camped. It’s better we wait until we’re outside of the city before we continue. We’ll be ready to depart as soon as you’ve got whatever you need.”

“Great,” Young Nan said, an upbeat smile spreading over her face. “I just need to pack my stuff and tell my boss I quit.”

Still smiling, the Unicorn trotted over to the wardrobe and threw it open enthusiastically. Several large saddle bags levitated out and were quickly filled with clothes that Young Nan simply threw in without a care. A couple of books followed afterwards and various other miscellaneous items that were pressed in over the clothes. Royal Duty blushed and averted his eyes when a pair of silken socks flew out of the back of the wardrobe and were hurriedly stuffed into a saddle bag. He did catch Young Nan suddenly, and rapidly, check to see if he had seen that, a heavy blush on her own face.

It took only a few more seconds for her to finish packing. She lit up her horn again when the last clasp of the saddle bags had been fastened and a heavy travelling cloak fluttered off of a hook on the door and wrapped itself around her. Taking a deep, finishing breath, she then looked at Royal Duty.

“Alright,” she said, “I’m going to go and quit. You go and wait at the end of Sunshine Street. I don’t want it to look like were obviously leaving together so you go ahead. I’ll catch up to you in about ten minutes.”

“Right,” Royal Duty said, nodding. He then trotted out of the door and back down the stairs. He walked through the, still crowded, common room and out of the Tipping Wagon’s door.

Even after so long Sunshine Street was still full of ponies walking back and forth. The press helped keep him hidden as he, once again, blended into the crowd. He casually made his way to the corner and laid his saddle bags on the cobbles of the road. leaning on the wall he began to wait.

Ponies continued to rush past him, every one of them attending to their own business as they ignored him. Royal Duty tried his best to appear nonchalant and innocent. Most ponies simply walked past him without sparing him even a single glance, let alone a second. Thankfully there were no guards on patrol at the time which made it much easier for him to keep his cool.

***

Young Nan trotted out of the Tipping Wagon with a spring in her step. She had politely submitted her verbal resignation, her rapidly packed bags making it clear to her employer that she was leaving immediately and left the building. She wasn’t sad to see the place go. It had been nice enough but being a serving mare just wasn’t for her and the customers could get really annoying. Quite a few stallions and mares had decided that making inappropriate remarks about her and not keeping their hooves to themselves had been good ideas.

Walking out into the streets she found the familiar crowds were still out in force. Though the owner had been kind enough to allow her to rent a room at a discount she had taken plenty of opportunities to wander the streets of Krakhoof.

This wasn’t her first mission of course but she had never been stationed in such a large settlement before. She had used every opportunity to scout out the city, enjoying the sensations and sights as much as she could. It hadn’t been that hard to keep her cover as she could easily just claim she was shopping, or visiting a park, or simply exploring her new home.

Now however she was done.

She kept her cheery smile on her face as she trotted down the street but inside she was jumping for joy. Whilst the city had been nice she just hadn’t been able to just relax. Like all of her previous missions she had to keep her persona going. It was fun, of course, playing her cover character but sometimes it just got tiring and the flirting did bring the obvious problem of attracting the wrong kind of attention.

It didn’t take long for her to find her contact. Royal Duty, the stallion sent to collect her, seemed rather normal, she would have said average but obviously he had to have distinguished himself if he was trusted with taking charge of recovering her.

She saw him sitting by the side of the street. He was trying to appear unconcerned but she knew he was concerned. He did a decent job hiding his nervousness but the way he quickly ducked his head every time he checked to see if his company was coming seemed less like the actions of a bored pony and more like those of a suspicious one.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said amiably as she trotted over to Royal Duty. To his credit the stallion didn’t jump in surprise though he did give her a look of exasperation. “It takes a while to politely tell someone you’re quitting immediately,” she continued. “I also had to wait for him to give me my last pay...it’d look weird if I didn’t.”

“Right,” Royal Duty said in response, a little unsure of what exactly to say but still keeping his casual tone. “Better get going then.”

And with that he placed his saddlebags back on and waited for her to make her own move.

Smiling in a friendly manner to the stallion, Young Nan stepped forward and began walking. She knew the way to the main gates better than he did, having spent enough time in Krakhoof to memorise the common exits as well as the most feasible means of escaping in a hurry.

The journey through the streets was rather easy. By this point the crowds were starting to thin as the early evening wound on and ponies began to go indoors. There were still plenty of ponies out on the street and a number of shops remained open but it was obvious that part of the city was preparing to go to sleep.

Both Young Nan and Royal Duty kept silent throughout the entire journey, an unspoken agreement passing between them that it would be best to save any discussions for when they were outside the city’s walls. However they did stick close together and keep friendly expressions on their faces, keeping up the image that they were familiar travellers going on a journey together.

By the time they had got to the gates Young Nan was fairly relaxed. They were on the edge of the city and the afternoon guard were starting to be rotated out for the evening shifts.

Both ponies still kept up their friendly, innocent smiles as they passed through the gateway and left the city’s boundaries. Young Nan refused to drop her facade, knowing that they still weren’t safe until they were, at least, under the forest canopy. A quick glance at her new companion showed that he was at least smart enough to intuit the same thing.

As they approached the tree line Young Nan glanced back at Royal Duty. Turning her head she saw him studying her flank intently with a look of inquisitiveness. Internally she frowned and turned towards him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her friendly expression still on her face but her tone now turning cold and irritable. The last thing she needed was to be paired with another pony that thought of nothing but getting put up to stud.

“Oh… uh, no…nothing, nothing like that,” he said quickly, a shocked and worried expression on his face. “It’s just… I, uh, I just wanted to see if you were a Converted, or a Convie-born like me.” He then wrapped the end of his travelling cloak in his magic and lifted it, revealing a cutie mark in the shape of the planet Earth. “See.”

Raising an eyebrow she did the same, showing off her identical cutie mark.

“Yeah,” she said in a nonchalant fashion, “what about it?”

She never really thought that much about her cutie mark and when another pony did it was usually more of an excuse to check somepony out.

“Nothing much really,” Royal Duty admitted in an apologetic tone, “just curious.” Then suddenly he blinked a look of equal parts surprise and curiosity. “Wait a minute,” he said, turning back to her, “I swear you had a different cutie mark when I first saw you.”

Young Nan smirked in response. “Oh, so you were taking a look. That was a fake, a concealment spell with a projected image placed on top. It’s a pain to maintain but I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“I see,” Royal Duty said in an accepting fashion, as his mind turned to contemplating what she had just told him.

An awkward silence descended on the pair as they approached the forest. Once the first few branches had passed over them they visibly relaxed. They had maintained a rather casual stance as they walked and had managed to keep their placid and friendly expressions, the previous faux pas notwithstanding. However now they both shifted into a straighter stance, old training taking over as they returned to the positions they were most used to. The friendly smiles also disappeared and were instead replaced by wary frowns.

“So?” Royal Duty began in a questioning tone, “how much do you know about this mission?”

Young Nan smirked. She hadn’t exactly pegged him as the type to try to get the first word in on an interrogation with a non-hostile.

“I’m to escort you, the prince and whoever he’s brought with him to high command,” she said. “I’ll lead you to friendly territory first and then we can take it from there.”

“Right,” Royal Duty replied, satisfied with the answer. They both returned to their silence as they walked down the path.

After another half hour of silent walking and contemplation Royal Duty then stopped and pointed down one path.

“We take a right here,” he said.

Young Nan looked up and saw no indicators or markers to tell him where any path was.

“You trekked through the wildlands to get here didn’t you?” she then asked, turning to him.

“Yeah,” Royal Duty replied.

“Good job,” she said in return, “though I’m not sure how you could possibly tell where your path is. Did you set something as marker for yourself?”

Royal Duty let a small smile emerge on his face at the praise.

“Yes,” he said, “that tree over there, the one with the three brown toadstools and yellow mould on it.”

He pointed out a large, innocuous oak tree that had the fungus he had mentioned growing at its base. Young Nan nodded approvingly. He had picked a marker that was useful to him but not patently obvious to anypony else and therefore dangerous.

“Good job,” she said again and then turned right at the tree, leaving the path and stepping onto the leaf litter of the forest proper.

They trudged through the undergrowth for several metres, the sound of their hooves brushing aside mulch and rotten leaves the only thing they could now hear.

Bored of the monotony and now fairly confident in their safety and secrecy Young Nan turned to her companion.

“So,” she began in an amiable fashion, “what’s the news in the Midnight Guard?”

For a split second she saw Royal Duty give her an inscrutable glance. It almost seemed like he was weighing his options on whether or not he should tell her anything. Internally she smirked. She certainly approved of a healthy dose of paranoia.

“We’re at war,” Royal Duty then said, “I mean properly at war. Things have escalated and we have to weed out a few traitorous elements.”

Young Nan winced inside, not letting her nervousness show in her facial expressions or body language. She knew as well as anypony privy to certain information that the New Resistance was having trouble with traitors and zealots. If the Midnight Guard, the group they were supposed to swear allegiance to, were talking about traitors then that meant things were really starting to go wrong.

“Traitors?” she asked, letting the word speak volumes for her.

“Yeah,” Royal Duty replied noncommittally, as if it didn’t matter. “A few ponies here and there have got it in their heads that they can take on the Solaminan Empire by themselves and don’t like the approach we’ve been taking so far. We’re having a… survey, you might say, in order to deal with it.”

Young Nan almost rolled her eyes at the obviously vague terms the stallion was throwing around. It was obvious he was trying to obfuscate her and hide the problem.

“So your prince is trekking all the way over to HQ for help in this ‘survey’?” she asked.

“More or less,” Royal Duty replied. To his credit he had managed to keep his voice level and casual throughout the conversation. “So what about the Resistance?” He then said, taking the initiative. “What kind of reception can we expect?”

“I’m not really sure,” Young Nan replied, slipping into her element, “There's a lot of us who think we’d be better off without you lot butting in. There’s also the anti-monarchists, the anti-Blueblood lot and a bunch of weirdos with their own ideas of what Equestria should be when we take it back.”

She looked to Royal Duty who was digesting her words.

“How about you?” he said after a moment. “What do you think?”

“I just do my job,” Young Nan replied, “I’m a professional and a damn good one I might add. I get given orders, I complete them and then I move on to my next assignment. I don’t really think about politics or what his highness thinks all the way back in Germareny.”

“So you spend a lot of time in enemy territory?” Royal Duty then asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“Yeah,” Young Nan replied in a manner that implied it was obvious knowledge, “I’m a field agent. I’m supposed to be out here.”

“First time for me,” Royal Duty admitted, returning his attention to the unmarked path they were taking.

“You’ve never been in the field before?” Young Nan asked, her incredulity slipping through.

“No,” Royal Duty replied, trying not to sound embarrassed. “I got assigned to his highnesses’ retinue shortly before we left. It’s been a bit difficult I’ll admit. I hadn’t ever killed a pony until the night before we left for this mission.”

“Really?” Young Nan asked unsure how to react to what her current partner was saying.

“Yeah. I’ve had plenty of opportunities since to be sure but I’d never really gone out into the field until a little over a week ago.” Royal Duty now felt incredibly nervous as he bit down on his bottom lip slightly.

“Brilliant,” Young Nan said, a hint of disdain in her voice. “So I’ve been put with a rookie that was pretty much a civvie until a few days ago. Probably shows what I’m in for with this mission.”

“Actually,” Royal Duty butted in, “I’ve only been sent here because the other guys that were supposed to collect you died on the way here. We haven’t exactly had the best of luck what with the Anthroponies, the wounded and having to take detours past every single Solaminan settlement we come across. I probably wouldn’t have had to be sent for you if we had anypony else to spare.”

“Y’know that’s not exactly encouraging either right?” Young Nan said.

“No,” Royal Duty replied, “but it’s the truth. Shows you just how important your guidance will be.” He then rounded on her giving, her a falsely reassuring smile and bowed his head slightly. “I hope we can put our trust in your hooves. I mean it’s only the fate of the Rebellion that’s now riding on your back.”

Young Nan snorted and gave him a sneer in response.

"Smartass,” she muttered under her breath as she watched the stallion right himself again and turn to lead her down the path.

“It won’t be much longer now,” Royal Duty said after they passed a large rock standing upright in the woods. Despite its bizarre shape and stance the stone was surrounded by so many weeds and bushes and draped in so much moss that it seemed as innocuous as anything else in the woods.

However, true to his word, the sounds of a large encampment began to drift through the woods after only another ten minutes of walking.

“Ah looks like were here,” Royal Duty said, a smile growing over his face.

Young Nan didn’t reply, simply continuing to follow the stallion. After a few more seconds the trees began to thin a little and both ponies walked out of the trees and into a clearing. There was a perimeter marked by stacks of spears surrounding a closely packed circle of tents surrounded by wagons. The tents were mostly the small, easily pitched squares of fabric that were issued to most soldiers. However the centre was dominated by a monstrous pavilion that might as well have been a noble’s suite made of cloth, mostly.

“Halt,” a pony said. Young Nan turned from regarding the actual encampment to see a grey coated Earth Pony stallion dressed in the familiar dark blue batwing barding of the Midnight Guard.

“Corporal Royal Duty, necromancer 1st class and personal adjutant to his highness Prince Blueblood of Equestria.” Royal Duty said in response, “Service number 2GEA-42266. I was sent to retrieve the liaison with the New Equestrian Resistance.”

Young Nan saw the unicorn briefly incline his head in her direction which led to the Earth Pony looking directly at her for the first time. She kept a stoic expression as the Guardspony seemed to study her for a few seconds before nodding.

“Alright,” the guard said, “go on in.”

***

Prince Blueblood set his quill down for a moment, letting the writing implement rest back in it’s ink pot as he sighed.

It had been several hours since he had sent out Royal Duty and he was concerned for the young adjutant. He knew very little about the newest addition to his personal retinue and hadn’t really made much of an effort to know him. Now however, with so much riding on the colt’s back, he couldn’t help but worry, both for Royal Duty and the mission he was responsible for.

Of course he had recently received some good news. The last of the wounded had finally recovered and thus the wagons that had been repurposed for them could finally be made to carry goods. This would certainly make transporting their new batches of supplies much easier. As an afterthought he did also remind himself that his subordinates being healthy was a good thing but that was at the back of his mind by this point.

His thoughts were interrupted when his tent flaps rustled. Raising his head from the reports, he saw one of his Thestrals walking in.

The pony saluted. “Your adjutant has returned with the contact.”

“Excellent,” Blueblood replied, his mood lightening, “show them in immediately.”

“Yes, your highness,” the Thestral replied, saluting again before turning around, lifting the tent flap and waving.

Two young ponies, one of them the latest addition to his retinue and the other a mare he had never seen before, walked in.

“Royal Duty reporting back from Krakhoof, sir,” the young stallion said, bowing as he spoke. “I successfully retrieved our contact with the New Equestrian Resistance.”

“I am Young Nan, private and infiltrator 1st class of the New Equestrian Resistance,” the mare said in turn, bowing beside Royal Duty. “I was stationed at the city a week ago and am under orders to guide you to Resistance Headquarters in Eastern Horssia.”

“Excellent,” Blueblood said in response. “I am looking forward to observing your performance.” He smiled in a much friendlier fashion as both ponies stood to attention. “Royal Duty,” Blueblood then said, turning to his new adjutant who now looked somewhat nervous about being addressed directly, “you are to be commended for your performance; you completed your mission successfully and promptly. You have, so far, vindicated Magnus’ trust in you.”

Royal Duty’s face lit up at the praise whilst Young Nan remained impassive.

“Resistance Operative Young Nan,” Prince Blueblood then said, turning back to the mare, “we will be waiting until the next morning, when our new supplies arrive, and then we will move out.”

He saw both soldiers nod in understanding.

“Well then. You’re both dismissed,” Blueblood waved them away and watched as they bowed again and walked out of his tent.

Alone again, he turned his attention back to the reports, sighing as he reviewed their current supply situation. The numbers did not favour them at the moment and anything the reconnaissance groups brought with them would be invaluable.

***

Hoofington, Equestria. March 18th. Year 20 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2050 human calendar)

Memory was the worst enemy.

Memory gave her flashes of a smile, of dark hair and eyes and a kind heart. Memory gave her flashes of a man - the kindest man, the bravest man - saying goodbye in her dreams.

And dreams… they gave her flashes of what might have been. Impossible happiness that could never be and would never have been, but still made her heart pang in ways she didn't think the metal could anymore. Then when she woke up, it made her rage all the more palpable.

She decided, on reflection, that she hated memory, and hated dreams more. The damn things were there to taunt her and nothing else.

"Don’t worry" a voice - was it a memory or a wisp of daydream? - spoke in her mind. "Keep going. Everything will be alright."

Lyrium took a breath, forcing air down her metallic throat where it filled her chest cavity. She sometimes liked to fancy it whistled as it passed between the complex mechanisms that now made up her body. Still the brief pretence at regular life worked. Her churning thoughts calmed and the memories faded from her mind’s eye.

“Lady Lyrium,” a deep sonorous voice with a metallic edge said, “it is almost time. We await your command.”

Smiling at the sound of her new companion, Lyrium turned to regard the figure that had joined her. By the shape of its meticulously crafted body it was male. The figure stood taller than even her, towering over most other Iron Men. Its body was shaped like a human knight, enchanted steel plates, moulded into the gothic appearance of the old armour designs. Litanies and scripture were engraved all over the figure’s body lending an even more eerie quality to its appearance. It had no visible face, as its head was shaped into a closed helm, within which was contained a burning golden light that shone through the seams.

He Who Remembered, a physical memorial, an avatar, to the fallen and a memory of a bygone age.

“Hello Eric,” Lyrium said, the metallic joints of her mouth forming into a playful smirk. He Who Remembered seemed taken aback by the name for a second but regained his composure in the blink of an eye. To anyone but Lyrium, who knew him better than any other, it was as if he hadn’t responded at all.

“We await your orders,” he replied slowly and coldly. Lyrium’s smirk disappeared as her thoughts returned to the town a mile away.

"It's a choice," a familiar sounding voice spoke in her mind, "between the overt and the covert." She could almost imagine the owner of that voice smirking at her, and she dearly wished - if only for a moment - that he really was here, and he really could. "Just this once, I'd go with the overt. It's not like they can stop you. Hell - I'd like to see them try."

“Form up for battle,” Lyrium said as the mechanisms of her mouth formed into a grin. “Let’s forgo subtlety for tonight.”

“By your command,” He Who Remembers responded. The knightly figure then turned and walked away to assemble the army, leaving Lyrium alone with her thoughts again.

“Oh wonderful diligent Eric,” Lyrium said to herself, raising her head but not looking at anything in particular, “you’d have been proud of him.”

"The lad certainly had potential," the voice spoke again, "You couldn’t have picked a better person to remember us."

Lyrium cackled to herself as the voice finally began to fade away, bringing her back to reality. Turning around she appraised her army, her Iron Men.

Hundreds of figures stood before her, each one of them similar but still individualised in subtle ways. They were not perfect representations of old humans. they had been adapted into forms more fitting for the war Lyrium tended to propagate against Equestria. Their faces were steel masks sculpted into the vague shape of a human face whilst their bodies were much more intricate and advanced. In their arms were a variety of weapons, swords, spears and heavy mauls that were held in tight grips.

These were her Iron Warriors, her foot soldiers, ready to tear through the Guard and shatter the Church.

Behind them were the Iron Marksmen, former Unicorns that still possessed their powers. They too were built like the Iron Warriors but had prominent horns fused to the foreheads of their face plates. Through these they could channel their magic, making them invaluable in battle.

Countless packs of Forlorn Souls, recent converts to humankind that still had functional but somewhat unfinished metal bodies. Patches of armoured plating were missing from them and many of their intricate innards were exposed to the world where they ticked and whirred visibly. They held themselves lower than the Iron Warriors, their arms clutched closely to their bodies as their heads bobbed in disbelief and dismay. They were still unused to their new lives and had to be directed closely by her guiding hand.

In the centre of the front lines was a block of large, armoured figures, decorated in silver and gold. They were the Iron Retributors, the elite of the Iron Men and Lyrium’s finest warriors. They stood at seven feet tall and carried enormous polearms that crackled with magical energy. The powder of stolen Unicorn horns had been ground down and mixed into the alloys that had made their bodies and so their magic had become a part of them. Through them she would avenge humanity against the ponies of Equestria.

Behind that were other, less identifiable things. Warriors and war machines, every one of them made of metal and polished to a shining gleam. Though they all bore the same expression there was a palpable aura of anger, rage that was barely being held back by military discipline. This was an army thirsty for vengeance against those that had violated them and robbed them of their humanity.

At the head of the metallic host was He Who Remembered, standing tall and proud amongst his warriors.

Walking up to him, she smirked, indicating the town ahead. “It’s time.”

Nodding, He Who Remembers turned his head to his forces. “DEVASTATORS! MOVE INTO RANGE!”

Lyrium took another deep breath as she watched four large machines wheel their way up to the front of the army. They were massive metallic catapults, built from steel boxes and placed on massive wheels. They were weighty but the supernatural strength of the Iron Man crew that manned it meant it was pushed into position with swift efficiency.

The crews began to man the cranks that pulled the machine’s arms into position. Barrels of pitch, which were stored in the body of the machines, were rolled out and placed in the sling at the end of the arm. An Iron Man stood nearby with a hot brand, ready to light the wick that stuck out of each barrel.

Lyrium raised her arm to signal the crews to fire.

Go ahead, the voice said, do it.

She threw her arm down and the first Devastator fired. Due to the low light it took time for her order to be relayed but soon the catapults were firing in quick succession. Six barrels, the lit tapers looking like small shooting stars shot through the air.

Not far in front of the army was the fortified town of Hoofington. After the rise of the Empire and the industrialisation of Ponyville, Hoofington had become a trade hub that accommodated the convoys of ponies and equipment travelling to Twilight Sparkle’s research facilities.

Six lit barrels fell over the wooden walls and exploded. Fire rained down on the front of the city and ignited the palisades.

Lyrium heard the scream emanate from the town as the ponies inside noticed the fires now burning the edges of their home. She smirked as she even saw a few silhouettes scramble back and forth along the intact portions of the wall.

“Companies advance.” He Who Remembered bellowed. “Retributors at front. Charge your weapons.”

The sound of lightning building in strength began to fill the air as the massive iron Men warriors fed power into their polearms. The instant He Who Remembered spoke, the entire army began to march forward, leaving the Devastators and a single guarding company behind.

The Iron Men’s pace built up as they approached the town. Soon they were sprinting at the wall, the Retributors in front, their weapons crackling and shining as the energy continued to build up.

Lyrium charged to the front of the army, catching up to He Who Remembered, his own fists shining with the same inner light under his helmet. Her own hands did the same as she felt her magic, a feature of her days as a pony, build up within her beautifully crafted hands. Soon both she and the knight by her side were shining beacons at the front of the charge.

As they approached the gates, Lyrium raised her fists above her head and brought them down, slamming into the wood of the gate. The gateway shifted but held. He Who Remembered’s fists crashed against the gate a moment later and the gate splintered. Several lightning wreathed polearms from the Retributors stabbed at the gate, their power shooting outwards and the wooden structure exploded inwards.

Lyrium sprinted through the flaming portal that had just been opened. In front of her were scattering ponies, few of them in armour. Several held spears and wore portions of Guard armour, proving that the town had been particularly unaware of their approach and were struggling to respond.

Lyrium gave them a feral grin and charged forward. Raising her right fist, the energy in her hands formed into a long blade of magical energy - the thing’s ethereal shape might have been familiar to those who had fought in the old war, a long time ago.

Holding it over her head, she swung it round and the weapon extended, reaching out and slicing through the pony closest to her. Behind her, the Retributors charged through and ran into the panicking ponies. Their polearms rose and fell as they mercilessly cut into the routing Guardsponies. Lyrium cut through another before the panicking Guard could even try to attack, and laughed, the metallic noise echoing into the night.

“This isn’t a good fight,” He Who Remembered said as she stepped up to her side, a similar magical blade in his hand. “It isn’t even good sport. Why bother?”

“Why bother?” Lyrium repeated back to him, incredulous. “They deserve it, Eric! This is vengeance!”

She walked off to the side of the gate as the Iron Warriors followed after the Retributors. She could see the fires a little further away spread larger and higher as the flames spread unchecked.

A large figure suddenly stalked through the gate as the last of the Iron Warriors filed in. It was vaguely humanoid, standing on two legs and with a stooped posture but it seemed to be stretched. It’s head was more avian than human, jutting forward with an almost pronounced muzzle. A series of long metallic probosci were attached to its shoulders and ran down its back almost like a cloak.

“Penitent Engine,” He Who Remembered shouted at the creature. It turned to look at him, boring into the knight with an inhuman gaze. “I want you to seek out as many townsponies as possible. Don’t kill them. Incapacitate them.”

The Penitent Engine nodded once and then stalked off into the chaos of the streets.

“Do you think we should join him?” He Who Remembered asked. “Keep an eye on him maybe?”

“No, I trust him,” Lyrium said with a smile, “It’s about time we see what he can really do.” She looked down the street the Penitent Engine had walked down. “Come on,” she said quietly, “they should be done shortly. We might as well help with the cleanup.”

“As you say,” He Who Remembered replied, and the two of them set off into the town.

Hoofington wasn’t that different to how Lyrium remembered Ponyville, though it was a little bit bigger. From outside the town had appeared huge but that was because the wall was enclosing a settlement that liked to have wide spaces between all of its buildings and plenty of spaces for gardens and other green areas. To Lyrium it actually appeared rather pleasant.

Now however there were plenty of signs of intense combat and butchery having taken place. Dismembered Guardsponies were littered around the main street along with other ponies that Lyrium presumed had put up a fight. She could still hear screams and whimpers further into the town and the crackling of a distant fire was very audible. It wasn’t as pleasant but it had to be done.

“Please,” a voice called out, “somepony help! Anypony!”

Lyrium saw a stallion crawl out of a ruined house. He was missing one hind leg and he had a red slash over that ran horizontally over his face. Lyrium looked closer and saw that both of his eyes had been destroyed by the blow to his face and that he was now blindly scrambling around for help.

“I’m here,” she said, walking up to him and firmly grasping his body in her hands, “but I’m not a pony.”

“Please,” the stallion cried out, “don’t… don’t hurt me anymore.” He then broke down and began to cry. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” Lyrium said, “I’m doing this because your kind did worse to people who didn’t deserve it. I think it’s high time that the ponies of Equestria felt what it was like to be a human not that long ago. Now come on. I have so much more to show you.”

With that she tucked the sobbing pony under her left arm and carried him down the street, ignoring his cries and his futile squirming.

She walked up to the body of a dead Guardsponies and appraised the corpse.

“Do you think this one’ll do?” she asked He Who Remembered.

“It should be fine,” he said indifferently as he stared at the pony in her arms.

“Alright then,” Lyrium replied cheerfully before she returned her attention back to the stallion. “Now when they first offered the Ponification Potion to humans all those years ago they said it could cure ailments and diseases and they were right. The unfortunate thing is they counted being human as one of those diseases as well. Now I haven’t missed the fact you’ve been horribly hurt so I’m about to give you a helpful little solution that will fix you right up. Call it… a taste of Equestria’s own medicine.”

“Wh… what?” the stallion asked uneasily, too terrified to do anything else.

“Quiet now,” Lyrium said in response as she began to concentrate.

A silvery mist began to form beneath the stallion. It curled and grew around his body as well as the corpse of the stallion. Slowly a metal figure began to form from the mist. Inch by inch it took shape, forming legs and then hips, building itself from the ground up. As the construct formed, the body of the stallion and the corpse of the Guardspony began to unravel and disappear. At the same time another, darker grey fog emerged from the stallion’s body, which went deathly still as it disintegrated. The grey fog began to sink into the metal body as the construct reached completion. As the faceplate of the new Iron Man finished forming, the last of the grey smoke sank into it.

“Can you hear me?” Lyrium asked the newly born Iron Man, performing the ritual greeting she had performed on every soldier she had created.

“Yes,” the stallion’s voice nervously answered from the construct.

“And you know me?” she asked as well.

“You are Lady Lyrium: mistress of the Iron Men, my mistress,” he continued.

“Excellent,” she said, stopping her personal ritual since she knew there was still the rest of the cleanup to see to. “Come on Eric,” Lyrium said to He Who Remembered, “we still have a lot of work to do.”

She walked down the street, leaving the new and bewildered Iron Man to acclimatise himself. It didn’t take them long to find a large town square at the centre of the settlement. Dozens of Iron Men filled the open space and more were arriving, dragging crippled or frightened ponies into the area.

Already several of the more powerful Retributors had begun converting the ponies into new soldiers. Corpses had already been piled up to provide more raw materials for the shining new bodies that were being built for the prisoners to inhabit. Ponies everywhere were screaming as they saw their friends, neighbours and family members were being torn apart to create more of the monsters that were attacking them, knowing that soon, very soon, they would be next.

One particular conversion drew Lyrium’s attention. Not that far away, the Penitent Engine had corralled several foals. As they screamed and squealed in fear, his metallic tentacles shot out and impaled their small bodies. The same smoky mists began to form around them and from their bodies. However it was obvious that there weren’t enough raw materials to form bodies for all of them. Instead only one tendril of grey smoke sank into the Iron Man body that began to build itself from the flesh of the foals. The other grey tendrils instead were funnelled into the Penitent Engine who shuddered in grotesque ecstasy for a moment before his tentacles retracted, allowing the final scraps that were left of the foals to collapse to the floor.

“We’re going to have to take an account of how many new people we’ve created,” He Who Remembered said to her.

“Oh indeed,” Lyrium agreed with a nod. “A lot to take account of. Many new names, new forces. Be sure to see to it that any spare material is used to upgrade the Forlorn. I don’t like leaving work half finished.”

“It’ll be difficult keeping track,” He Who Remembered noted.

“True,” Lyrium said. “Still it’s not like we can make too many. We need every man that we can get.”

“In this, we are agreed,” He Who Remembered said. “Will it be enough to break through the wall?”

Lyrium looked around, a metallic grin on her face.

“Not yet,” she said simply. “We’ll need to take more.”

***

Castle Midnight, Germareny. March 19th. Year 20 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2050 human calendar)

“It feels like forever since I last visited Castle Midnight,” Hot Shot said as they passed through the gate into the citadel. “It hasn’t changed that much.”

“I have to say he’s right,” Dinky added as she looked through the clean and orderly, if dark, hallways, “I honestly thought there’d be more damage, y’know from the battle.”

“It was troublesome,” Magnus said in response, “but it appears I was right to entrust the garrison with helping repair the citadel. We couldn’t allow it to be left in such a terrible condition so I ordered the staff and local work crews to oversee the repairs.”

“So what’s our next move?” Dinky asked.

Magnus smirked, turning to look at his companions, making sure all three of them were assembled alongside him. “I currently have a prisoner, Lady Ever Essence, who should be able to provide us with the details of her co-conspirators. She has spent the time since her ill conceived assault languishing in the dungeons. I ordered she be moved to the interrogation rooms before our arrival.”

“The torture chambers?” Black Shroud asked from behind the room, her voice now cold and professional.

“Yes,” Magnus replied, “I do, however, prefer to use their official name.” As he spoke he opened a door that revealed a stairwell leading down deeper into the castle. “Now I would like all of you to help organise our forces. I will interrogate the prisoner myself.”

“You brought us all here just to send us off?” Hot Shot asked incredulously, a sentiment the other ponies seemed to share.

“I brought you here,” Magnus replied, “to assist in my response to these traitors. Expedience is a virtue and I need everything prepared as quickly as possible. Hot Shot I would like you to commandeer whatever forces are available to us, make sure they know that you have my authority to do so. Black Shroud I want a complete list of our arcane and alchemical inventory as soon as possible and Commander Doo,” he turned to address Dinky, “I want the logistics divisions ready with whatever you deem necessary for our expedition. I will review all of your progress once I am done dealing with the prisoner. Now go.” Magnus punctuated his orders with a wave of dismissal.

With that he turned and walked down the stairwell. The spiral stairs led deep into the bowels of the castle, with only a few small hanging lamps to illuminate the path. Magnus felt his mood shift as he continued to descend, darkening as he contemplated the interrogation and just what he would do to his prisoner.

Finally he came down to the bottom of the stairs. He stepped down into a large circular chamber with a single door in the wall opposite the stairs.

He smirked as he took a deep breath. As he reached the door, his horn lit up, grasping the door handle in his magic. Finally on the threshold of the interrogation room, he ran his thoughts through his head once again and decided just how he was going to deal with Ever Essence.

Opening the door, he stepped into a cold, shadowy room. Inside were various intricate devices, torture racks, endless rows of hanging chains, an assortment of exaggeratedly spiky machines and stacks of weapons and tools, some of which looked more similar to sharpened cooking implements.

Tied down to one of the racks was Ever Essense, her mane now bedraggled and messy and her coat stained by dirt and dried blood. The look in her eyes was both terrified and withdrawn, as if she had resigned herself to whatever horrible fate awaited her.

”Well that won’t do,” Magnus thought, ”She was supposed to be left long enough to stew in her own fear but not so long she would stop caring. I’ll have to have talks with whoever was foolish enough to put her in here too early.”

Making a note of having a future discussion with the chief interrogator, Magnus stepped forward so that Ever Essence could see him clearly.

“Good evening,” he said politely.

“Is it?” Ever Essence asked, “It’s been so long since they put me down here I lost track of time a while ago. What do you want with me?”

Magnus grinned ferally, showing off his teeth. They weren’t sharpened but when combined with the insane look in his eyes, the expression appeared predatory.

“You know what I want,” he said, still maintaining his ferocious look, “Information on your co-conspirators. Their identities, their locations, the strength of their forces and their objectives. You’re going to tell me all of that as soon as possible.”

“And you honestly believe I will talk to someone like you,” Ever Essence replied imperiously. “Your disgusting lackies have left me to rot in this dungeon for a day now. I’ve spent hours surrounded by these devices and I can tell you they no longer have the kind of terror you were hoping they would.”

“You say that, but I haven’t used any of them on you yet,” Magnus replied with a dark chuckle that was devoid of any mirth. “Tell me Lady Ever Essence,” he then began, his tone shifting to a more conversational one, “you’re a learned mare. How much do you know of Equestrian history?”

Ever Essence didn’t reply for a long moment.

“Just the usual stuff,” she replied after a moment, confused but cautious.

“I’ve looked into it a little bit more,” Magnus said with some enthusiasm. “Particularly the history of torture concerning the pony races. Did you know, for example,” Magnus then began, his horn lighting up, “that the Adamantine Empire of the Unicorns liked to encase portions of their prisoners of war in molten iron. Not only was this unbearably painful but it slowly built an excruciating cage around their bodies. It’s the half-remembered stories of these practises that the rumours of Princess Celestia petrifying her enemies originated from. Unicorns were in fact masters amongst ponies at experimenting in ways to torment their opponents.”

Magnus then walked to the other end of the room and pulled a long implement out of one of the tool racks. It was a knife with an incredibly thin but visibly sharp blade.

“The Pegasi, however,” he began again, keeping the same casual tone, “were a little more blunt. After their ancient Legions began to fight opponents that didn’t possess wings, they adapted their dewinging traditions to cutting away at limbs. Where they would usually pulled feathers off of prisoner’s wings, they instead began to cut away small squares of flesh, flensing the unfortunate soul’s limbs slowly.”

He placed the knife on the end of one of the racks and went and pulled out a large hammer that was studded with small blunt spikes.

“Earth Ponies were even more direct and to the point,” he continued. “They prefered to hear the results of their torture so they perfected a method of breaking their opponents bones in precise manners. Now this hammer may look large and unwieldy but there’s a quirk in its design that allows the wielder to swing it with far more precision than most ponies would think. The personal torture technicians of the Earth Pony magnates were experts in smashing bones so that their subjects were rendered completely immobile but alive.”

Magnus finally rounded on Ever Essence and looked right at her. The Earth Pony mare was completely pale and whilst she was trying to maintain her composure the expression on her face betrayed her fear. The more Magnus told her about his knowledge, the more worried she became. This was how she had wanted her to be when he first entered the room but he found he was now glad she had been calm when he talked to her. Breaking her personally was proving to be much more fun.

“Now,” Magnus said, placing his hooves on the rack and bringing his face right up to Ever Essence’s, “I could go on about the details but I’m just here to inform you of what is in store for you. I can flay you slowly, force feed you until you choke and your bowels void themselves. I can slowly debone you like a Griffon chef would do to a fish or maybe slit your stomach open and remove your internal organs in a way that would leave them visible to you but unharmed so that you might stay alive. I even have a few handy little Pegasus tools that are just perfect for tearing your hooves off without cutting your flesh. If I bring the clamps in I can dismember you whilst reducing the blood loss, all to keep your ruined body going. Finally, I am an expert in reviving you in the event of the shock paralysing you or rendering you unconscious. It just wouldn’t do for you to pass out in the middle of my ministrations after all.”

As he spoke, keeping his eyes on Ever Essence’s he saw the mare start to shake. Once he was finished Ever Essence was quaking, tears in her eyes and a croak of fear struggling to escape her throat.

“Now,” Magnus then said, “I’ll give you one more chance. Are you going to tell me what I want to know?”

Ever Essence shook but a minute but finally nodded, moaning an affirmative.

“Excellent,” Magnus said cheerily, “I’ll bring in a cartographer and several scribes and we’ll get everything you say down in writing. Of course we can’t let you leave this room. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Wait, what,” Ever Essence said shakily, “you won’t let me down?”

“Oh no,” Magnus replied with a dark smile, “you may have won the chance to keep your life, so long as you tell us the truth, but your freedom is still a way away from you. Prove yourself to me now and I will see if you can be vindicated.” His look then turned terrifyingly cold and dark. “Lie to me, or withhold any information and I assure you I will show you just how well versed I am in the long history of torture and its practical application.”

With that he turned out of the room and left to gather the personnel he needed. This was the second step in his plan to dismantle the traitors and he had sworn that he would make sure every one of the traitors suffered everything he had just threatened Ever Essence with.

“Ah, soon,” he said aloud to himself, contemplating that momentous day with a soft smile. “Soon.”