3rd day of Summer's Flame
452 Years after Discord's Defeat by the Sisters
Just over 1000 years from the present

The sun beat down on Pallas Athene, the young mare sweating in the heat, almost blinded by the light. Like most thestrals, she slept through the harsh daylight hours when she could, retreating indoors to escape Celestia's sun.

There was a tug on the chain around her neck, reminding her of why she was out in the unnatural light, as if the ache in her heart wasn't enough.

“Keep moving!” Yelled one of her captors. She opened her eyes and looked up towards him, just able to make out the griffon's looming shape against the glare. There was a crack, and Pallas cried out as a line of pain erupted along her flank.

“Best just keep moving, filly,” whispered the pony chained behind her, urging her on. “I'm sure Celestia will send the army to save us.”

Pallas sniffled, shaking her head in denial. “Why would she bother? She abandoned us.”

“She didn't abandon us,” the other pony said. “She just...”

“I heard my parents talking about it,” Pallas whimpered. “They were arguing because my mom wanted to leave and Dad wanted to stay and defend our home. Why didn't Dad listen to her... they'd still be alive if we'd run away...” Pallas sniffled and hung her head. “If the Solar Guard hadn't pulled out of the town this never would have happened!”

“It's not like that..” the other pony whispered. There was another crack, and Pallas heard him grunt in surprise and pain.

“Don't lie to your foals,” the griffon commanded. “She's absolutely right. Your Princess abandoned you to us. There is no hope for you, so just give up now. The sooner you get used to your new position in life, the happier you'll be.”

“Sir!” Another griffon yelled. “We're approaching the base camp. The Wingmaster sent a courier ahead to ask to meet with you once you arrived.”

“Excellent. Have the prisoners escorted to the holding area. We shall feast in celebration of our victory!”

Pallas was shoved into a fenced-off area like a farm animal, her chains removed but an iron collar remaining around her neck and her wings bound at her sides. The glare of the sun was finally dying, marking an end to the worst day of her life, and she could see other ponies around her.

It wasn't an encouraging sight. The other ponies were a mix of all the pony races, sitting around small fires or lying in crude tents that were little more than blankets stretched over sticks. All of them had the same slave collar. All of them had bags under their eyes, a broken look to them that spoke volumes. Pallas shuffled over towards one of the fires and collapsed in the dirt, exhausted after the long forced march.

“What town are you from?” Asked a quiet, rough voice. Pallas glanced up to see another thestral looking down at her. The pony's appearance made her blink in surprise. Most thestrals had a very narrow range of color combinations, all shades of black. Pallas herself was a very dark navy, so deep that she could stand as one with the night.

The thestral looking down at her with piercing red eyes was stark white, as different from Pallas as it was possible. She was slim, with narrow, graceful wings that marked her as being from the far north. Pallas sat up, unsteady, and looked at her.

“Graven Crossing,” Pallas said, quietly. “Most of us fought to the death.”

“I'm sorry,” the albino thestral said, looking genuinely upset. With the fire at her back, she almost seemed to glow. “My name is Bianca . What's yours?”

“Pallas. Pallas Athene.” Pallas sniffled and rubbed her nose with a fetlock.

“I'm from the Chiseled Estate,” Bianca said.

“I heard of that. It's a big glacier that was carved into a fortress.” Pallas looked down.

Bianca smiled and nodded. “A palace of living ice that changes every day, having to be worked on constantly. I... hope the griffons will at least take care of it like we did.” Bianca sighed sadly.

“I'm sorry,” Pallas muttered.

“You don't have anything to apologize for,” Bianca said. “You've lost as much as I have.”

Pallas shrugged, slumping back down to the ground. Bianca laid down next to her, uncomfortably close for a stranger, though the albino thestral had an oddly calming, welcoming presence, and Pallas felt vulnerable enough that she just... needed somepony right now, even if it was a total stranger from the other end of the world.

“We're going to be rescued soon,” Bianca said, lightly. Pallas blinked and turned to look at her. The albino thestral was smiling serenely. She was either insane or just in denial.

Pallas snorted. “You're crazy.” Pallas was the type of pony to just say what she thought, especially when she was having a bad day.

“I mean it,” Bianca said, her smile fading slightly in the face of Pallas' dismissal. “I had a dream last night. Princess Luna said she was sending the Night Guard to save us.”

“In a dream,” Pallas repeated. She snorted.

“I'll make you a deal,” Bianca said, smirking. “If Luna does show up, I want you to come with me when I leave with the Princess.”

“If the Princess actually shows up, I'll follow her and you anywhere you want,” Pallas muttered. “It's not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Good.” Bianca smiled. “Do you want to get something to eat while we wait? I know you've had a long day, but maybe putting some food in your belly will help. It's only boiled hay, but...” Bianca smiled and shrugged apologetically.

“...Okay,” Pallas said, struggling to get up. Bianca helped her stand. “My hooves feel like they're going to fall off...” They walked slowly towards where a pot sat over another fire, a big earth pony spooning out boiled hay into bowls and passing it out. Bianca had Pallas sit and brought a bowl over to her.

Pallas frowned at the food. It had been boiled down until the hay had almost completely broken apart, no more than dirty grass and water. It was technically edible, but little better than grazing on raw greens.

“It's warm, at least,” Bianca said, quietly. “My father always said that the most important thing was to take care of what you need, then work on what you want when you can afford it.”

Pallas started eating sullenly. It did little to fill the emptiness inside her, though it was, as Bianca had said, at least warm. She sat with the albino, and half-listened as she talked about the caves of ice she'd been born in, the floors and walls lined with skins and rugs. The careful way they would tend fires in the center of rooms to avoid melting through the floor. The way she'd play in the snow, hiding in the white banks that piled up, perfectly camouflaged thanks to her coat.

Pallas started to drift off, leaning against Bianca's smaller form and trying to forget where she was.

Pallas’ mother was shaking her awake. She blinked and looked up into the worried gaze of her parent, the older thestral’s face awash with fear. Outside, Pallas could hear screaming and screeching. Harsh light poured through the gap in the closed curtains, her mother flinching as a shadow passed by.

“We have to go,” she hissed. “We’re going to hide in the basement. We’ll be safe there.”

“W-where’s Dad?” Pallas asked. Her mother didn’t answer, just taking her by the hoof and leading her towards the stairs in the open trap door in the floor. Something slammed against the front door, and Pallas felt her mother tense.

“Go. Run!” her mother whispered, letting her go. Pallas ran and looked back to see her mother just standing there. As she slowed, her mother slapped her with a wing. “Run!” She hissed again, forcing her daughter down the stairs.

Pallas stumbled into the darkness of the cellar, and the trap door above slammed shut at almost the same time the front door gave in. She heard her mother’s hooves pound against the floor as she galloped away from them, followed by softer footsteps and the screeching of birds.

Pallas put a hoof on the stairs, caught between hiding and trying to help her mother despite her orders. As she hesitated, there was a blood-curdling scream, cut off too quickly, ending in a wet gurgle. Pallas bit back a scream too late, a single note of terror escaping her mouth.

The trap door was flung open. Griffons pulled her out of her hiding place with cruel talons. She cowered, too afraid to do anything, as she was thrown to the ground, one of the griffons looming over her.

Pallas woke up to the sound of screeching griffons. The sound made her bolt to her hooves, breath catching in her throat as she fought to distinguish dream and reality. Bianca was already standing, looking past the enclosure and towards the rest of the camp. The campfires and singing had been replaced with an out-of-control blaze and screaming.

“What’s going on?!” Pallas asked, her ears flattening.

“I already told you,” Bianca said calmly. She turned to Pallas with a smile. The clouds overhead parted as if by some divine hoof, and the silver light of the moon shone like a spotlight down into the camp, bathing everything in soft illumination.

Dark shapes moved among the griffon army. They were as rocks in a river of bodies, and like rocks the river broke on them. Bodies were tossed to the side as the stench of blood filled the air. Bianca led Pallas to the crest of a rise in the enclosure where they could see more clearly, the dark thestral meekly following, her eyes wide with confusion.

For a moment, Pallas caught a glimpse of what was lurking in the dark. A wave of griffons fell back from one of the shadowy forms, and it was revealed as a draconian shape of steel, cloaked in a mist of darkness with eyes glowing like coals. Leathery wings stretched wide at its sides, their edges cloaked in bright, sharpened steel. It was the first time Pallas had seen wingblades.

The griffons outnumbered them a hundred to one. Pallas shivered as she watched the dragon-like warrior make a great, bounding leap into battle, howling like a beast, tearing griffons limb from limb. Even with the ferocity they displayed, though, she could see they were getting pushed back. The weight of numbers was just too much.

A horn sounded.

Pallas and Bianca turned as she appeared on the top of the hill, almost directly opposite them across the camp.

She was clad in silver raiment, beautiful in an ethereal, unreal way, like something that didn’t belong to the world or the rules imposed by it. Her long, star-filled mane floated behind her in an unseen current of aether that ignored gravity and its trivial concerns. Her whole body glowed with the same silver light of the moon, making her shine like a beacon. Everything quieted for a moment, even the griffons pausing in their battle to behold her.

Princess Luna’s wings raised up, and she charged. For a long second, it seemed she was attacking alone, until the rest of her army crested the hill, following her into Tartarus. Though still outnumbered, they were far closer to the size of the griffon force, and had the advantage of organization and surprise. The griffons’ ranks were broken, scattered by the appearance of the deadly soldiers in their midst.

Luna’s forces hit them like a farmer’s scythe hitting grain, and like the scythe, the grain fell before it.

Pallas watched in awe as the battle ended as swiftly as it had begun, the griffons routing and being cut down by magical blasts and crossbow bolts until only a fraction managed to escape, a horn sounding as Luna’s forces allowed them to leave.

“Come on!” Bianca said, prancing towards the gates of the enclosure. Pallas followed, her steps feeling oddly light, as if seeing the griffons purged from the camp had lifted a weight from her shoulders as well.

Bianca sat down, her tail twitching with excitement. Pallas turned to ask her what was going to happen next when the gates suddenly tore open, enveloped in a magical aura and flung aside like crumpled paper. The excited shouts in the holding area quieted to reverent silence as Luna walked inside, the moon shining down on her like a spotlight.

Bianca was the first to kneel. The others followed, falling to their knees in a ripple as they saw the goddess among them. All except Pallas. She stood, frozen and entranced by Luna’s beauty, and in that single perfect moment, Luna was looking only at her. The Princess smiled.

“Rise,” Luna commanded, her voice carrying easily. “There is no need to prostrate yourselves. We have come to free you, not to make you servants anew. Part of my army will form an escort to take you to a refugee camp near the capital and well away from the enemy lines. Any who wish may instead take up arms and follow me into battle.”

“Oh oh!” Bianca bounced up to her hooves, raising her hoof as if an eager student wishing to be called on by a teacher.

Luna laughed and shook her head. “Yes, Bianca . I did promise you could come along.”

“Yes!” Bianca spun in the air, landing next to Pallas and pressing against her. “I told you! And you promised you’d come with me!”

Pallas nodded slowly, eyes flicking between Bianca and Luna.