As Starlight laid down on a lumpy spring mattress in a cell in the Sanctuary guest quarters, she took a scoop out of her soft stone bowl of bedtime chocolate chip vanilla ice cream, then licked it off her spoon. This chilly sweet treat was a nice way for her to relax for sleep, and to get the foul aftertaste of Brotherhood gruel off her tongue. She was, in fact, surprised that the Wasteland even had ice cream. Apparently, it was all the rage with the Byzuntonian upper class. Equestria, of course, had the technology and infrastructure to mass-produce the stuff, so it was something she took for granted before she came to the Wasteland some few years ago and founded Our Town. But she learned to appreciate the smaller things, and she was sure some slave or poor artisan worked real hard on it. There was some hidden charm to the homemade stuff, after all. It was only a three ounce cup, since upper class delicacies always had a strange habit of being expensive. But she didn't mind. There was no sense in consuming excess calories.

A Brotherhood guard knocked on the door. “Starlight Glimmer,” he said, “you have two visitors. One Imperial stallion, and one Equestrian mare. Would you like to see them?”

'Mare?' Starlight thought to herself, 'I hope Party Favor didn't go bonkers and have a sex change. How creepy would that be, huh?'

“Of course I do!” she called out, raising herself off the bed, “I'll be out right away.” Bringing the ice cream with her, she swung the door open with her magic, and approached the guard. “It is okay if I bring this with me, right?”

The guard shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

She followed the guard to a hallway, where in front of her, the hallway split in two ways, left and right. From the left side, she heard several successions of hoofsteps on the wooden floor. She and the guard stopped. Two guards came out from the left side, followed by the Wanderer and a smiling white earth pony mare with a buzz-cut red mane and blue eyes (the right one cocked to its own extreme right), and whose lollipop cutie mark was branded over with a bent six-pointed star that Starlight couldn't help but feel she'd seen before, and whose back was burdened by a large rucksack; these two were followed by two other guards.

“Why is her flank branded like that?” Starlight whispered to the guard next to her.

“Imperials brand their slaves to mark the slaver guild that they come from,” he whispered back, “makes them more recognizable in case they get picked up by rustlers.”

When the two front guards got within arm's length of Starlight and the guard next to her, they split up and walked back behind the rear guards, allowing Starlight and the Wanderer to come face-to-face.

“Good evening, Miss Glimmer.”

“Oh, hey, Wanderer.” She levitated her bowl and spoon in front of him. “You have to try some of this. It's really good.”

He leaned in to inspect the bowl's contents, but judging his by his silence, he seemed to be at a loss. “Is this supposed to be food?” he asked.

She giggled, a hoof touching her lip. “It's ice cream. Oh, I remember just gorging myself on this stuff when I was a filly. I didn't even know you guys had it!” She took some of it out with her spoon. “Here. Try it.”

After exchanging magical grips on the spoon with Starlight, he lifted up the visor of his helmet and put the spoon in his mouth, then slid the spoon out. He moved the ice cream around in his mouth for a little bit, swallowed, then dropped the visor back down. “Well,” he said, “it is cool, and turns to liquid in the mouth. I do not see what is so special about it.”

“What?” she said, taken aback. “That's what you noticed about it? Its temperature and… and its melting point? How does it taste? Can you tell me how it tastes?”

“Like an apple. Sweet.”

“Are you kidding me? Seriously? Vanilla chocolate chip ice cream does NOT taste like apples.”

“Ah. I see the problem here. Do you recall the time I told you that Imperials are less sensitive to pain than everyone else?”

“Yeah, but I don't see why that means you can't enjoy ice cream.”

“We are less sensitive to pain because we lack the same number of sensory nerves that you do. The senses of taste, touch, and smell are detrimental to a warrior on the battlefield far more often than they are beneficial, so selective pressures have been set against them, in favor of better sight and hearing. This is why we prefer more psychological forms of entertainment, like sports and gladiatorial games. Do you see now?”

She took a little while to digest that, then became slightly disappointed that she'd essentially wasted a bit of her scant supply of frozen junk food. “Okay, yeah. I see now.”

“Now, I have here someone who appreciates sweets far more than average. She did even before she was lobotomized. A confectioner from Equestria who mistakenly believed that the Wasteland was a safe place to find exotic ingredients for her craft, if the merchant who sold her to me is to be believed.” He pointed a hoof to the smiling white mare next to him. “Do introduce yourself to her.”

She stared into that one cocked eye. Something about her was unsettling. Maybe it was the eye, or maybe it was the drool oozing out of one corner of her mouth. She thought that perhaps she should feel sorry for her… but then she realized she was wasting time being a sentimental idiot.

Starlight grinned. “Hi there!”

“Ice ceem!” the mare exclaimed, still smiling.

“Oh! You want the ice cream. Can you tell me your name first, dear?”

“Suckew Pop.”

“Sucker Pop. Okay. Now you can have a scoop.” After taking some out of the bowl, she pointed the spoon to Sucker Pop's mouth. After Sucker Pop opened her mouth, Starlight put the spoon inside, and Sucker Pop bit down. Starlight pulled the spoon out from the weak grip of Sucker Pop's teeth.

“Yay!” She cheered. “What youw name?”

“I'm Starlight Glimmer. Now, I'll give you another spoonful of ice cream if you can answer one thing for me.” She motioned to the Wanderer. “Can you tell me his name?”

“Yes.”

'Excellent.' Starlight thought to herself, 'now I can finally call him by his name and not by this stupid nickname.'

“What is it?” she asked.

“Mastew.”

Starlight groaned. “No, no. I mean his name. Your name is Sucker Pop, my name is Starlight Glimmer, his name is...”

“Mastew.”

“Miss Glimmer,” the Wanderer interjected, “even if I remembered my old name, I would not give it to a slave. Especially not a discount slave. Now, give her the treat, please.”

After sighing and rolling her eyes, she gave Sucker Pop another spoonful of ice cream.

“Wew you be my mommy, Stawight?”

“Aww. How cute! Of course I'll be your mommy.”

“Yay!” Sucker Pop clapped her hooves. “Mommy Stawight.” She ran up to Starlight and wrapped her hooves around her, squeezing so tightly that she found it harder to breathe. Starlight patted Sugar Pop's back; she was shocked at how strong Sucker Pop's muscles were. Her withers were rippled and hard. Her flanks were bulky. She must have been trained to carry things. Which reminded her of something.

“Wanderer,” she said, letting go of Sucker Pop, “can you tell me what happened to Party Favor?”

“Ah. Party Favor. He proved uncooperative, and had to be dispatched. I do apologize. He did not actually mean anything to you, did he?”

“Not much, but he was nice to have around as a familiar face from Our Town. Can you tell me how you did it?”

“I threw him down a canyon.”

“Did you make sure he was dead?”

“I was unable to. The canyon is so deep that the bottom is invisible to the naked eye. Even on the extraordinarily off chance that he survived such a fall, he was surely crippled, so he would have died of thirst, and certainly nobody would have been able to find him in time to rescue him. He is no longer relevant.”

She shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“You might be interested to know that there were six young Equestrian fillies who took interest in the lad. He was in their possession before I convinced them to relinquish him to me. One was an alicorn, if you can believe it. One Twilight Sparkle.”

“You wouldn't mean Princess Twilight Sparkle, would you?”

“I thought that title was reserved for the Diarchs. Was I mistaken?”

“Fifty years ago, you wouldn't be. But there have been two alicorn ascendants in very recent Equestrian history, one being Sparkle, and the other being Cadance. I'd already founded Our Town by the time Sparkle was coroneted. I don't know what Celestia's goon squad is doing in the Wasteland, but they can't be up to any good.”

“The child-princess is searching for you. She mentioned you by name.”

“Oh, did she now? So how did you deal with them?”

“I gave them misleading directions. Nothing too spectacular. As going east towards the Federation would have been the proper course, I sent them west, to the Empire and Ruusonia.”

She tried to keep herself from cracking up, but she let a chuckle slip through. “So what do you think is going to happen to them?”

“There is no doubt the Kaiser will take extreme interest in the presence of Equestrian royalty in the Wasteland, let alone within the Empire's own borders. And although the child-princess is probably of great magical power, she would not be able to take on the might of the Legions. In all likelihood, she will be sacrificed to God on Wenn's sacrificial altar, and her five friends will be lobotomized and sold into slavery, as discount slaves.”

Starlight, masking what would've been thunderous laughter, coughed profusely. The thought of magnanimous Princess Twilight Sparkle being so ineffectual in stopping her that she would be killed in spectacular fashion, without even catching a glimpse of her, was a wallop of comedy. However, she didn't want to look too callous in front of the Brotherhood guards, so she decided feigning illness would be better.

“Are you alright, Miss Glimmer?”

“It's fine. I just have a cold, that's all. A jubilant cold,” she said with a wink. “You didn't have that planned, did you?”

“My intention was to lead them astray so that they could not meddle in our affairs. Leading them to their deaths was just an… unfortunate side effect.”

“Yes. Unfortunate. I really am glad I sent you. Sure, you didn't get Party Favor back, but you did do something much better.” She turned to Sucker Pop. “And you got us this cutie! Oh, I could just pinch her itty bitty cheekie weekies.” At the glow of her horn, an aura formed on Sucker Pop's belly. “Who's a pretty baby? Who's a pretty baby?”

Sucker Pop was flung into an intense fit of giggling, and began trampling in place. “Tickews!” She cooed, “stop it mommy. I'm tickwish.”

“Excuse me,” said the guard next to Starlight, tapping her shoulder. “Can you wrap this up please? The Elder is waiting for him.”

“Him? What about me?”

“I'm sorry, but the Elder would rather not burden the fairer sex with the business of stallions.”

“No,” the Wanderer said to the guard, “I will have you know tha-”

“Wanderer,” Starlight interrupted. She motioned him to come closer, so that she could speak with him privately. He lifted up his visor, then leaned in so that she could whisper in his ear.

“Do you not want to know what the Elder has to say?” he said.

“I do, but I'd rather not alienate them over this if I don't have to. I trust you to handle this well enough without me. Besides, I think you can use this to your advantage.”

“Interesting proposal. Tell me more.”

“A big reason for them trusting us in the first place is because I convinced them that I used some Equestrian hoodoo to make you some chivalrous knight in shiny flowery armor. You'd do well to roll with it.” She paused. “Let me play the damsel just this once. It'll give you some leverage in earning their trust, and it'll save you from getting in a dumb argument that we don't have anything to gain from in the first place. All we want from them is their services. We can worry about ideals later.”

“Hmm…” He took a moment to consider it. “Remarkable idea, Miss Glimmer. I will put it into action in my negotiations as soon as is practical.” He put down his visor, then turned to the guard. “I apologize for my outburst. Sometimes, I forget that physical threats are not the only ones from which I should protect her. I am sure the Elder does not need to know about this.”

“Nobody's expecting you to be perfect, Imperial. We're just impressed that you haven't murdered her by now. You will call him Elder Big Rat, or Your Excellency. Copy?”

“Acknowledged.”

“Alright. We only have one room in the Sanctuary open to guests, so you'll find Starlight Glimmer and Sucker Pop in the same quarters.”

“How would we deal with bedding arrangements?”

“One room has one mattress. The rest is your problem.”

“I see. Let us go now. We should not squander any more of the Elder's time.”

“I couldn't agree any more, Imperial. I'll escort the two mares back to your quarters. These four will escort you to the Elder.”

“Of course.” The Wanderer and the four guards behind him turned about-face. Two guards stayed put as the other three moved forward, then continued in the rear of the formation, ensuring that the Wanderer had guards watching him in all directions.

“Good luck!” Starlight said, smiling and waving to him as he left. 'Don't fuck this up,' she thought to herself. She then turned around to follow her own guard back to the bedroom, Sucker Pop following suit with that smile still plastered on her face. She didn't worry too much about the Elder. She was, however, somewhat worried as to whether or not Sucker Pop would make a tolerable roommate.

Starlight didn't bother with unpacking too much before laying back down on the bed. They were leaving tomorrow morning, so there was really no reason for it. All she did was set up Party Favor's old bedroll on the ground. Between that and the mattress, there wasn't much in the way of solid ground to walk on. This room was only meant for one. Sucker Pop seemed to enjoy it though, since she was nestled in the bedroll with a content smile. Starlight didn't know whether Sucker Pop knew that she was a replacement for Party Favor. In fact, she didn't know much about Sucker Pop at all, so she decided it was about time to fix that.

“So, Sucker Pop...”

“Yes, mommy?”

“Is Master treating you well?”

“He tweats me good fow a swave.”

“He doesn't… hit you or anything, does he?”

“Onwy if I mess up. I no mess up much. I got twaining.”

“But he said you're a discount slave.”

“My bwain cut was bad. I smawtew tan most swaves. I was no bown swave, too. Tat no mean I bad at job.”

“Oh. Okay. So, can you tell me where you were born?”

“Ponyvew I tink. Whewe wew you bown, mommy?”

“Oh, me? I was born in Canterlot. Big castles. High class ponies. Princes, scholars, and knights.”

“Whew is Cantewot, mommy?”

“It's right in the middle of the country, on a big mountain. Very big. Can only get there by choo choo train.”

“Choo choo! I wan see choo choo. Can you show me choo choo?”

“There aren't any choo choos for miles, sweetie. But I'm trying to get choo choos here. And factories. That means you won't have to be a slave anymore.” Starlight expected Sucker Pop to scream in sheer and utter joy. However, that didn't happen. Instead, she put on a slight frown, which came as a bit of a shock to Starlight.

“But mommy, I no smawt enough to not be swave. What I do when no mowe swavewy, mommy? I no do hawd bwain stuff wike you ow Mastew.”

“But don't you want your old life back, sweetie?”

“I do miss owd wife, mommy. But if bwain no get bettew, I no can get it. Pwease no take away swavewy, mommy. Not tew my bwain is bettew.”

'She has a point,' Starlight thought to herself, 'this brain-damaged marechild has a point! You know what? I'll have to study up on advanced neurology if I want to abolish slavery here in the Wasteland. More specifically, I'll have to reverse-engineer the lobotomization process so I can nullify it. I think I can make a few additional adjustments as well…'

“Well,” Starlight said, “I think I can find a way to do that. Figuring out how to fix your brain is probably a hop, a skip, and a jump from what I know how to do already.”

Sucker Pop bolted up from her bedroll in elation. “Reawy, mommy? You mean it? Reawy?”

“Really.”

“Reawy reawy?”

“Yes, really really.”

Now she screamed in sheer and utter joy. “Tank you, mommy! Tankyoutankyoutankyou!”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Starlight Glimmer,” said a voice from the other side, “the Imperial is finished with his negotiations with the Elder, and now will be joining you in your quarters.”

“Let him in.” Starlight replied. The door creaked open, and the Wanderer walked in the room, careful not to step on the mattress or the bedroll. “So,” she said, “how'd it go?”

“The Elder is willing to work with us, on two conditions,” he said while shutting the door behind him.

“And those are...”

“The first condition is that we vow to respect the sovereignty of the Principality of Ruusonia, and to never engage in any act of hostility, subterfuge, or domination over her.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Indeed. Which is why we have the second condition, one that is considerably more difficult.”

“Just give me the gist of it.”

“As a token of our commitment, we are to accrue a bronze scepter which belongs to the mayor of Lesbos, a Byzuntonian city-state to the north of Byzuntam, settled along the River Styx Canyon. The Elder does not care how we get the staff, so long as we do not implicate the Brotherhood.”

“Just what's so special about that thing, anyway?”

“Nobody outside the Brotherhood knows this, but the scepter is actually a powerful magical artifact. The Staff of Comets. He who wields it will, every one-hundred years, be able to call a meteoroid down from the heavens and cause a large swathe of destruction anywhere on the Earth's crust. They want to take the scepter before anyone else finds out its usefulness.”

“How long has it been since it was used?”

“Nobody knows for sure, but it has been an heirloom in the mayor's family for about three hundred years, so it is safe to assume it has not been used in that time.”

“It's also safe to assume it'd be hard to just convince them or pay them to let it go, I take it.”

“A likely case. However, the town of Athon, a gold and gem mining settlement, is nearby to the east. Great bands of pirates make their living extorting and raiding the merchant caravans that travel along the Byzuntam-Athon highway. If we were to use all of our money to pay these pirates to raid the small and lightly defended Lesbos, we could take the Staff without implicating the Brotherhood, and weaken a potential threat to our conquest of the Wasteland. Not to mention we would be taking all our money back after dealing with them in their weakened state.”

Starlight put on a devious smirk. “Sounds good. I like it. How'd you come up with that, anyway?”

“One does not become a Centurion in the Imperial Legions without an understanding of strategy, Miss Glimmer.”

“I can imagine so. My dad was a military stallion. A knight. How do you think I learned combat magic?”

“Combat magic is not taught in Canterlot University?”

Starlight shook her head. “Oh, of course not. Intellectuals have no need for combat magic. My dad taught me everything he knew about shields, missiles, and beams, because I was his favorite. He also taught me a little bit about strategy and how armies work.” She scowled. “He wanted a son.”

“He is fortunate to have had you. Had you been born as a stallion in the Empire, I am sure you would have made a fine Legionary.”

Starlight smiled. “Aww. You don't need flattery to get me to like you any more, you know. I like you well enough already.”

“I was being sincere.”

“I know you were. I just don't want you to start getting sappy with me. I prefer you just the way you are. But I am curious. Do you like me, too? Try not to sound sappy with your answer.”

“I admit, for a foreigner, you are… adequate.”

“Oh, come on. You could've made your answer a little sappy. But I'll take it.” She let out a hearty yawn. “It's about time for bed, don't you think?”

“What about bedding arrangements? There is not room for another bedroll.”

Starlight placed a hoof on the mattress and rubbed it. “You can share the bed with me, can't you?”

“Hmph.”

“What's wrong?”

“In the Empire, the sharing of a bed between two individuals is a gesture of immense trust and friendship. Normally, this is only done between two Imperials, and only if they have known each other for at least ten years. We have not known each other for nearly that long, and to share a bed with a ba-… foreigner… is, to say the absolute least, unorthodox.”

Starlight felt somewhat flattered that the Wanderer stopped himself from calling her a 'barbarian'. She figured that it wasn't an honor a lot of non-Imperials got. “Hmm. Let me tell you what. If I ever decide that I want to walk all the way back to Our Town with nothing to show for it except a mentally crippled mare and a leather suit, I'll cut your throat while you sleep. And if you ever decide that you want to keep aimlessly wandering the desert until you drop dead and become food for vultures, you have my permission to cut my throat while I sleep. Okay?”

“Point taken.”

“I'm glad. Now take off that armor, please. I don't want to sleep with a bunch of metal plates rubbing up against my coat.”

He started by removing his helmet. Between the hooded cloak he wore back when she first met him, and the helmet that he wore since their brushing with the Jackals, Starlight never did get a good look at his face, even when he'd lift up his visor to do certain things that required it. There was also the whole thing with him being from a race of genetically engineered super-soldiers, so even knowing his age, it was hard to guess. So she decided now to get a good look at it. And it was… okay. He was a little wrinkled, but more like someone middle-aged, which by Imperial standards, he was. The mane shined and was white as the driven snow, thinning off the top of his head, and had a horrendous case of helmet-hair. He also had a mustache and goatee that went down about six inches. Rugged and unkempt, but still pointed, albeit bluntly. He had a sharp, square jawline and other such hyper-masculine features, but considering that even Imperial mares were masculine by Equestrian standards, this was to be expected. Starlight thought back to that one remark that Shattered Bones back in Brustworth made about Equestrians. “Like those squishy little teddy bears that foreign children play with.” That remark was really driven home here. If everyone else sees Imperials as hyper-masculine, then chances are Imperials see everyone else as hyper-feminine, or at least extremely childlike. Perhaps, she thought, that was why they had such a prevailing siege mentality and xenophobia. Perhaps it was because, in their minds, they were surrounded by vast hordes of dumb, cowardly, weak nances who wanted to destroy them and everything they built because they were jealous of their pure blood and their traditionalist ultra macho military society.

Next, it was the leggings. It was really hard to notice, but he had bronze horseshoes nailed to his hooves. Bronze, probably because Imperials lived for over two-hundred years, and horseshoes made of iron or steel would rust in that time without intensive care. Above his hooves were legs that bulged with rippled, gargantuan muscle. She wasn't too surprised at this, either; she never paid much attention to it, but he did train every morning, and he did it while wearing his armor, which probably meant a lot in a bodyweight regimen. And he did tell her that Imperials had muscles that are both denser and larger than everyone else's, and that they healed faster, which probably meant that muscles regenerated faster after being broken down in exercise. This could have also been why they ate meat. Perhaps they needed more calories and more protein to maintain all that extra muscle and the training that goes with it, so it was likely that they evolved to become omnivores while the rest of ponykind remained herbivores. Now, such a radical change within the relatively minuscule time frame of four-thousand years simply wouldn't happen in the natural course of evolution, but their evolution was not natural, but engineered and self-directed. Magic might have been involved too, but Starlight had never heard of magic that changed an animal's genetic code. She'd be the one to hear about that since it would probably fall under the category of Alteration magic.

Lastly, it was the torso. There were two things about his torso that struck her immediately: visible ribs, and the many poorly healed scars that dotted his skin. Everywhere from his flanks to his neck had scars, which surprised her considering that only a few small scars showed up on his face – scars that she hardly noticed until the topic of scars came to mind. But the one that struck her the most was the big one across his belly. Someone gutted him, and he survived it. Well, that's probably what happened, anyway. But there was one last thing Starlight was interested in all along: his mark. She wondered why he only called them “marks” and not “cutie marks”. Must be an Imperial thing. But what shocked her was just how mundane his mark was: it was a boulder. A plain, simple, beige boulder. She was expecting something really dark and edgy, like a flaming skull or crossed bleeding axes or some such other adolescent tripe, but this made him look like he worked on a rock farm. Starlight kept respectfully silent about everything else she'd seen, but this was just too much. After all, she'd centered her entire life and worldview around cutie marks.

“Wanderer,” she said, “can you tell me how you got your cutie mark?”

“The same way most Legionaries get theirs. First kill.”

“At your graduation ceremony, right?”

“No. Sparring session, during training.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“It was over ninety years ago. There is not much to tell, really. My sparring partner proved weak, I killed him, I got my mark, and the Academy rewarded me for my ferocity. That was also when I was considered for inclusion in the First Cohort, if I remember correctly.”

“Just what is the First Cohort, anyway?”

“The Imperial Armed Forces, also called the Wärmacht, is made up of bands of four-thousand-eight-hundred professional, heavy infantry shock troops. The bands are called Legions, each under the command of a Legate, who answers only to the Wärmarschal, who is either the Kaiser, someone the Kaiser has trusted to lead the army on a campaign, or a regional commander tied to a locality in which his Legions reside. A Legion is made up of nine regular Cohorts, made up of four-hundred-eighty troops each, and one First Cohort, which carries the Legion's standard."

Starlight nodded. "Hm. Interesting. So why does it exist?"

"The purpose of any Imperial Legion is to strike at the enemy where he is weakest with overwhelming force. This goes doubly for the First Cohort. When the Legion forms a wedge, the First Cohort stands at the tip. When the Legion forms a horseshoe, the First Cohort stands in the center. When the Legion forms a line, the First Cohort stands in the extreme right. Crack troops among crack troops, it is expected that a single First Cohort be able to fight more than ten times its own number in degenerates, and come out unscathed. Any less is looked down upon. And should a First Cohort lose, decimation is almost guaranteed.”

“Decimation? What's that?”

“It is an act of purification, for when a Century, Cohort, or Legion has committed a crime so vile that only the death of one-tenth its number can redeem it. Who dies is decided by lottery; those who lose the lottery are flayed alive, then lit on fire, by their own brothers in arms. This is a fate normally reserved for deserters and those who fell asleep at their post.”

“You take your job seriously, don't you?”

“We take our job very seriously.”

“Well, I don't want to go to sleep ending on that note. Let me tell you how I got my cutie mark. We wouldn't even be here if you hadn't found out about it in Our Town, so you should at least know about it.”

“Go ahead.”

Starlight sighed. “I got my cutie mark after failing the entrance exam into the Academy for Gifted Unicorns. Can you believe it? It's ironic, really. Well, I didn't get my cutie mark for failing it, but that is what set it off. Anyway, the task they give you is drawn from a hat, so you don't get to practice it beforehand. They just care about raw talent, not how much you care about studying or, you know, actual work. What they wanted me to do was turn a glass of water into soda pop. What a useless skill to have! To spite them, I turned it into really bad soda pop. It tasted like raw sewage, but it was still a carbonated soft drink, so it was still technically soda. But I didn't know that they judged you not only on your adherence to the letter of the task, but also the spirit. Needless to say, I failed it because it wasn't 'true soda'.

"But some other filly got in. A drooling imbecile if you ask me. I hardly even remember what she was supposed to do. Something simple and equally useless, like breaking an egg. She even had trouble with that! She only did it because of some miraculous sonic rainboom that looked pretty in the sky. Well, she got in, and I wanted revenge. So I stalked the filly until I was sure she was alone. Then I beat her into a quivering, bleeding mess. She was seven and I was fourteen, so it was really easy. But then I was confronted by my parents, and hers. That little brat ratted me out! But I got myself out of it. To make a long story short, I convinced them that she beat herself up from the stress of being in AGU, and I was only trying to comfort her. They bought it hook, line, and sinker. I got my cutie mark. Life went on.”

“But how did you explain your mark?”

“I didn't have to. They just assumed I got it for being kind.”

“A most entertaining note to end on, Miss Glimmer.”

“Please. Call me Starlight. I've had just about enough of you being so formal with me.” She scooted over to the end of the mattress on her left, then rolled onto her left side in the blanket, with the mattress creaking all the while. “I hope there's room for you back there.”

“There is plenty.”

Starlight lifted the blanket up with her magic, letting it hover and wave some few feet over the mattress. He dropped himself on the spot behind her, on his own left side. The blanket was eased down, distributed evenly between the two. Even with the armor removed, the warm body at her back was so large and so heavy that it made the cheap spring mattress sink her into it. She struggled to stay where she was, as she wanted to avoid an awkward situation. For somewhere around twenty minutes, she battled with this grossly inconsiderate mattress.

It didn't seem to bother the Wanderer though. In those twenty minutes, a slight snore came from him. Starlight wasn't terribly offended by his snoring; after sharing a tent with him for so long, she'd come to appreciate a little bedtime white noise. So eventually, she just gave in, and slowly sunk down.

She wondered what would happen. Maybe he would do nothing. Maybe he would wake up and tell her to move. Maybe a war flashback would make him try to kill her in his sleep.

However, none of these things happened. Instead, without waking up, he wrapped his forehooves around her and embraced her in a great, big, bear hug. Now she really was like a teddy bear. She was so small and so young compared to him that she felt like a filly having her father comfort her after she'd come into his bedroom complaining of nightmares. It felt weird. But also really, really comfy. Next Chapter: Chapter 11 Estimated time remaining: 6 Hours, 14 Minutes