“It's evil at work, it is.” Said Hearth Blackwind.

“Aye, evil at work.” Agreed Brenan the priest.

“Definitely evil.” Affirmed Tempest. All three stood some distance away from a dark pit sliding into the ground at an angle. Sidâl had been up to this plan all week, and not one bit of it failed to make Tempest uneasy. More quickly than possible for any man or pony, he had excavated a deep tunnel, diving down under the river and now well on its way to the fortress beyond. But none of the three thought it was Sidâl doing the actual digging. Strange noises came from within the hole in the ground, a cold air constantly leaked out, and what should have been mud from groundwater was frozen solid. Prince Aharôs would send in Verâdîm prisoners on occasion; they never came out.

“Folly, utter folly.” Brenan said, and not for the first time that week. “This shouldn't be happening.”

“Just standing back here makes me nervous.” Commented Tempest. She couldn't actually get any closer without the urge to run triumphing over all other senses. The humans couldn't either, in fact, only Brenan, Aharôs, and Sidâl were able to get this close willingly. Turaz would hang back a ways, Baron Kairôs a little further. Poor Snowy couldn't even get within a hundred yards of this place without trembling. Only her uncle was able to approach right to the edge of the pit, she didn't know why.

“Evil.” Repeated Hearth, walking closer to it. “Evil at work.”

“Careful, Hearth.” Warned Brenan, clutching the medallion of the eight-pointed star tightly. “You don't know what's in there!”

“I don't have much time left, there is little that scares me now.” Replied the dull-colored pegasus. “Something dark is down there, every instinct of mine tells me to flee. Yet...” He shook his head, and retreated. “It would be best not to give into curiosity, I think.”

“We're better of not knowing what is down there. If one thing is for sure, Sidâl is not on our side.” Said the old priest firmly. “He may work with us, but he is not doing it for our sake.”

“Then for who's?” Asked Tempest.

“That's what worries me.” Brenan sighed. The three departed from the pit, not wanting to return again, though they knew they would. They were silent as they went their separate ways; Brenan had to attend to any wounded there may have been, and Hearth went to receive news from Coldstar. Tempest, of course, took her usual action: to consult the only soul in the world she could truly call a friend.

“Have you found anything?” The blue-grey pegasus asked, when she entered the tent.

“N-not yet.” Snowy replied, with frustration. She looked up from the Kaiathîsa. “This is High Tarsen. You just c-can't power through it...”

“A whole week gone by, and still nothing.” Said Tempest. It was her guess that the human's most revered book would have at least some scrap of information on what Sidâl was dealing with.

“Do you want to read it instead?” Snapped the other mare, visibly angry for once. “You wouldn't make it past the first page!” Tempest was taken aback, she raised a hoof and her ears flattened.

“Lord of Heaven, Snowy, what was that for?” She asked. It wasn't something Tempest would ever admit, but it always hurt a little to hear such a thing from her companion. Then again, she was the one who always told Snowy she took things too personally... The beige pegasus cringed, and hung her head.

“I-I'm sorry, my Queen.” Apologized Snowy. “It's just not a good day. I didn't- I didn't mean that. Everything is just so...” she trailed off. “That was too far.”

“No, I understand.” Sighed Tempest. “You're right, I wouldn't make it past the first page.” Between two ordinary people there would have been an awkward silence, but these kinds of spats weren't unknown to Snowy and Tempest. They had accepted that it was just something that happened when they had to rely on each other's company almost exclusively. “I appreciate your hard work, Snowy, but that pit is really getting into my head, and not in a good way.”

“Yeah...” Agreed the other mare. “And- And this wretched book is impossible!” She scowled at the offending literature. “It t-takes an hour to get through a section, it's- it's- it's impossible!”

“I think we can agree neither of us in the best mood then.”

“Still, it's no cause to-”

“It is what it is, Snowy.” Tempest stated flatly. “That's what Aharôs said after the Sai-Karza war... It can apply to this minor incident that should really be forgotten about, too.” That didn't seem to convince her.

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” Said the blue-grey pegasus, before showing a slight smile. “And as your Queen, too, so you can't question this.”

“So be it.” Conceded Snowy, flicking her tail in what had to be agitation. She turned back to the impossible Kaiathîsa, and stared at it some more. Maybe I should try and help- No, what was she thinking? They had both just admitted that Tempest would be of no help here. What could she do then? Ah...

“Have you had supper yet?” She asked.

“No.”

“Dinner?”

“No.”

“Breakfast?”

“No.”

“No wonder you're having a bad day.” Realized Tempest. Just one more thing to sort out... It wouldn't do anyone any good if Snowy was neglecting meals in favor of study.

Everyone was getting busier and busier, it seemed. No doubt they were preparing for the coming assault. From the occasional flight above the fortress, it seemed the Verâdîm knew that they were going to tunnel under the river. But their own counter-tunnels kept collapsing because of the waterlogged clay beneath them. Sidâl's tunnel had no such misfortune, it continued on without a hitch. The few times Tempest did see the oddly ordinary man, he was impeccably clean. There was no way he was doing any actual labor down there...

So what was he doing? Verâdîm prisoners went in, Verâdîm prisoners didn't come out. Where they the ones working? Perhaps Sidâl was the one directing their energy... But it had been a full week and a half, and the only thing that went into the pit were the prisoners and Sidâl. Nothing else went in, nothing but Sidâl came out. There wasn't even any dirt being excavated! The whole thing was confusing and worrying.

This was only compounded by the fact that Snowy's search of the good book continued at a snail's pace. High Tarsen was only easy for the smartest of humans, and though Snowy was quite smart, she wasn't a genius. It was taking some time for her to get through the long and complicated history of the race of man, and most of that was just myth and legend, unreliable at best. So far, there had been no mention of nefarious powers that brought cold with them. It's entirely possible that there is no mention of this at all, for all we know, this is something completely unprecedented.

Then, the day was upon them.

Tempest and Hearth were standing some distance from the pit, watching it with skepticism as always. It was nearly sunset. Today, they were far enough back that Sir Turaz was able to join them. “We've got a guest today, my Queen.” He announced. Both pegasi looked back, and with Turaz was Prince Reshîv of all people. He was nearly half a foot taller than the halberd-wielding knight; both were fully armored and held their helmets under their arms.

“Princes Reshîv.” Greeted Tempest without much enthusiasm.

“We meet again, Queen Tempest.” Returned Reshîv. “I'm not a serious man, but I'm afraid today is a serious day.”

“Yes, so we've heard...” Hearth said, looking at the pit, and then to Jashenîon in the middle of the river. “He's going to bring down one of those walls tonight.”

“Indeed.” Nodded Reshîv, glancing at the sky. “The Verâdîm know its coming, they're ready. But Îrilôs has cooked up a little surprise for them while we've been sitting there.”

“Really?” Asked the blue-grey pegasus. Aharôs's half-brother held out his helmet, upside down.

“I'd tell you to catch, but you have no hands.” Instead, he just placed his helmet in front of Tempest's face. Inside was a ball of metal, about the size of a large fist, etched with lines, a fuse on its end.

“Is it a bomb?” She questioned. The King of Bîerlas had planted a similar device in a fortress he abandoned, made of black powder barrels tied together, with one of his most dedicated agents left behind to set it off after Athairîm troops were inside. Of course, that bomb had taken up a whole cellar.

“Yes, a very small one.” Affirmed Reshîv. “You are to take your pegasi above the fortress, light these, and drop them on the Verâdîm just as our boats start hitting the collapsed wall.”

“It doesn't look like they're easy to pick up...” Said Tempest.

“We've taken care of that, have no fear.” Reshîv looked sternly at the river fortress. “Though, I do fear. Îrilôs has a knack for game-changing weapons, and he knows just how to use them. You all realize how close he is from the Imperial throne, right?”

“No.” Admitted the Queen of Highcrest.

“Well, he's the Emperor's nephew.” Said Hearth.

“Our Lord and Master, Emperor Katastanîôs, has but one child who yet lives. A daughter, Asûhna, who is... Well, let's say she isn't all there.” The Prince spoke, tapping his temple with two armored fingers. “Should Katastanîôs die without specifying who is his heir... We'll have those who support a puppet Empress, and those who support our innovative friend. Unfortunate Asûhna may not have any longer to live than her father.”

“I can see Îrilôs doing something like that.” Acknowledged Tempest's uncle.

“Then it raises the question: What is the man two heartbeats from Ar-Athazîon's throne doing all the way up here in the backwater?” Sir Turaz asked. “Shouldn't he be making alliances along the Karthâ?”

“No one west or south of the Dashavon pays attention to this place.” Reshîv said. “I've done some research of my own, through friends abroad. Îrilôs was sent up here by the Emperor's orders, supposedly to weaken his power and have him out of the city when the succession comes. Now, if you ask me... Îrilôs engineered events to bring him up here so he could test all his new weapons without anyone watching. That's why he's been letting us use his rockets and little bombs. That man is too clever to be good news for the rest of us.” The Prince finished his deduction. Tempest had to admit, Reshîv was anything but the vainglorious oaf Aharôs seemed to think he was. “I think it says something about my own cleverness that I've managed to figure this out.” Well, maybe vainglorious; though certainly not an oaf.

“Yes, we're all proud, my Prince.” Said Hearth. “I suppose we should get ready for battle now. Come along, Tempest.” She followed obediently, taking one last look at the pit. While she had her armor put on, Tempest thought deeply on Reshîv's notion. And the more she thought, the more it seemed likely that Îrilôs was actually up here just to test weapons for future events. Like fighting his way onto the throne. He truly was a cunning man.

Night had fallen, sky partly obscured by clouds, and troops moved without torchlight to maintain their stealth factor. Tempest and her pegasi gathered, with Îrilôs, Aharôs, Reshîv, and the other human nobles and leaders. Sir Eberis and Sir Turaz were there, Mayor Pashal, Baron Kairôs, some men from Reshîv's army, include the Duke of Terâd, and more. All present were fully suited for battle, except Îrilôs as usual.

“Here's the plan.” Said Aharôs, laying out a map of the fortress and river banks once everyone was inside the command tent. “In half an hour, Sidâl will collapse the wall here.” He pointed to the wall on the eastern side of the island. “The Verâdîm will rush to it, we'll have boats fully lit up heading to it. Little do they know, that will just be a distraction. The real collapse will be happening up on the north end of the island. The bulk of our forces will approach without light. All the while, our Blackwind allies will be dropping Îrilôs's bomblets on them, causing confusion and delay in their ranks. Îrilôs will be directing the rocket attack, which will go off as our boats launch to cover them.”

“I spent two days with Lady Farpeak getting the fuses just right.” Îrilôs commented. “This plan will work.”

“I wonder where you get all the time to do this?” Asked Pashal. “Calculating rockets and making little bombs...”

“Most everything I've developed here has just been putting together parts. I've had plans drawn up for years.” Answered the Envoy.

“Baron Kairôs, you will lead the diversion boats on the east wall.” Now Reshîv spoke. “Duke Zefîrôs will be directing the battle.” That was the Duke of Terâd, Tempest had learned. “I'll be going along on the northern assault, but Prince Aharôs has volunteered to lead it.”

“Bold.” Commented Mayor Pashal.

“Indeed.” Agreed the younger Loiar. “The rest of you will lead your columns either on the eastern attack or northern one. Be cautious, the river is deep and you will drown if you fall in and can't get off your armor in time. That sums up the general plan, group leaders will explain further as we prepare to move out. To your posts!” Ordered Reshîv. Tempest felt her stomach flutter. Well, here we go.

Îrilôs walked with her and the other Pegasi. Even Snowy and Canvas were present this time. “Well, ponies, that day has come. We're finally going to need all of you in this.” Snowy shot Tempest a frightened glance, all she could do was try to put on her best sympathetic face. “Lord Hearth, Lady Farpeak, Canvas; you three are unfit for battle, but you can still ferry up new loads of bomblets together. Queen Tempest, Coldstar, Streaming Breeze, Waterborn, Red Fern; you five will be the ones carrying and dropping them on the enemy. We've forged two hundred hundred, it should be enough for at least half an hour.”

“And when we're out?” Asked Coldstar.

“Well, then you're out. I imagine you'll be exhausted by then.” Said Îrilôs. Some soldiers had already set up several dozen flimsy-looking boxes full of the bomblets, each one had six in them. These ones all had crude handles grafted onto them, so they could be picked up by something as clumsy as an equine mouth. “One of you will need to light them, the rest of you will have about five seconds to find a place to drop them. They're timed to be dropped from one hundred feet once those five seconds are up. Please try and keep that in mind, I wouldn't want any of you being blown up by one of my own weapons.”

“Got it.” Nodded Streaming Breeze. “I take it we should aim for clusters of men?”

“Yes, they'd be most effective there. I'd aim for them to hit the ground before they go off, the metal shards will do the most damage on unarmored legs. Any who don't die will be crippled, a few less to fight when our boats land.” Said the Imperial Envoy. Tempest swallowed nervously, trying not to think of the bloody maiming she was about to help inflict. This is what I was born to do, she tried to reassure herself. It didn't work very well.

“Well, let's get this on!” Coldstar declared, flaring her wings. “With my Queen's permission, of course.”

“We go.” Nodded Tempest. As the pegasi prepared and Îrilôs went off to his rocket batteries, she took a moment to talk to Snowy. “You ready?”

“Y-yeah.” Snowy sounded anything but ready.

“You'll be out of the fighting, you're just going to be bringing new loads up to Red Fern or one of the others to hold, you won't even be over the castle.” Said the blue-grey pegasus.

“I know, I know...” Sighed her companion. “Let's just get this over with.”

“Agreed.”

Minutes later, Tempest and the four others had made the ascent, with Redfern carrying the bomblets, Waterborn carrying the slow-burning wick for the fuses, and Tempest, Coldstar, and Streaming to be the ones who dropped them. A last minute change was made, Hearth volunteered to hold the fuse while Waterborn took an extra load of bomblets. “I figured I should do my part for my neice in one last fight before my time is over.” Explained her uncle. They took to the air, and lost sight of whatever the humans were up to on the ground. Soon, torch-lights went up on the bank, and lights moved around in Jashenîon. The pegasi circled, and watched the boats leave for the eastern wall. Somewhere down there was Baron Kairôs. I hope he makes it. Though she didn't know him well, Tempest had come to admire the young Baron's courage and inspiring presence. She often found herself wishing she could be like him.

Without warning, the lights along the eastern wall toppled. Rather, a part of the wall itself had toppled. The distant sound of rock and water floated up to them, and Verâdîm rushed to the gap. Aharôs and Reshîv could be halfway across the river by now... “It's time!” Tempest announced to her pegasi. They all took one bomblet from Waterborn or Red Fern, and lit the fuses one by one. Five seconds... and they were away. Explosions ripped through the soldiers below, followed by shouts and screams. Tempest tried to clear her mind, and retrieved another bomblet.

From the Athairîm camp came screams of another kind, the eerie wail of Îrilôs's rockets. Like smoky shooting stars, they leaped from the ground in a low arc, over the river and behind the walls. Some veered off at random, some exploded in the air, but most found their mark and clattered to the ground inside the fortress, exploding seconds after. A few even worked as planned, exploding moments before impact. Chaos... thought Tempest. Then, the next few bomblets were dropped.

A greater groan sounded from the north at that moment. It was too dark to see what happened, but there was a mighty cacophony from the area, as the whole northern tip of the island seemed to fall into the river. For a moment, the moon was revealed from behind the clouds, and dark shapes swarmed into the gap. Aharôs and Reshîv had arrived, no doubt with Sir Turaz, Mayor Pashal, and many more humans she had come to be acquainted with.

More bomblets, and another round of rockets came, this time aimed for the southern area. In the orange of the firelight, Tempest saw someone standing in the gap in the eastern wall, waving a blue banner. There were several specks of gold upon it. Seven dragonflies, Tempest would bet. Thecha! Baron Kairôs yet lives. That was some good news. Time seemed to blur for Tempest, it was a repetitive process of retrieve, light, and drop on what she hoped were the Verâdîm.

“That's the last of them.” Said Coldstar loudly, trying to get over the din of fighting below.

“Really?” Asked Tempest. “It's only been a few minutes!”

“It's been the better part of an hour, my Queen.” Said Streaming Breeze.

“Well, we've done our part. Back to camp.” She ordered. They descended, and the first thing they did was find water.

“I do h-hope that's the last of it for us.” Snowy said quietly, exhausted from dragging up boxes of bomblets.

“Yeah.” Nodded Tempest. “I'm glad we're not in there.” It wasn't long before Îrilôs dragged them off, though. He was quite insistent.

“The Duke of Terâd requests your presence, my Queen.” The Imperial Envoy stated firmly. “It would be in our best interests for you to see what he wants.” Zefîrôs Halî was the one Verâdîm lord who had gone over to Athair at the outset of the war decades ago, and he was one of the most powerful of them all. He was also the only Verâdîm who had been consistently loyal throughout the entire debacle. Zefîrôs was old now, his head was bald and his face wrinkled but harsh.

“Ah, Queen Tempest. We meet at last.” Greeted Duke Zefîrôs, when they entered the command tent. “You're just in time. Phase two of the plan is about to be activated.”

“Phase two?” She asked. “I wasn't told about that.”

“No, Reshîv and I planned it on our own. Aharôs has a love for frontal assaults, with quick victories and needless casualties. We disagree on that course of action.” Said the old noble, glancing at the foot-tall clock sitting on the table. It ticked away, hidden pendulum swinging ever on.

“I see.” Replied Tempest neutrally. “What do I have to do with this, though?”

“Not much. I'm hoping you can learn some basic strategy, though. That is our Prince's weakest point, one among many.” Said Zefîrôs. “The attack on the northern tip of the island would never work alone. Which is why I have phase two.” He paused, and looked at the open flap of the tent, and then back to the clock. Within a few seconds, the dull boom of cannon fire began to sound. It was distant enough to be on the other side of the river, where Reshîv had made his camp.

“That?” Asked the pegasus.

“That is the distraction.” The Athairîm seemed fond of distractions today. “We need to clear the battlements on the eastern bridge's gatehouse, so our friend Sidâl can do his work. He's volunteered for it, and you're about to volunteer too.”

“I am?”

“Yes, Queen Tempest. You and your pegasi will keep the walls clear long enough for us to put up a few ladders. Once we've got some men and Sidâl over there, we can open the gates from the inside. From there...” The Duke smiled craftily. “Well, from there the day is ours. They've pulled a lot of troops back to the island to deal with the Princes. We'll take them from the side.”

“Alright...” Said Tempest, with a sinking feeling. Just when I think it's over... “Just tell us when.”

“Now would be a good time.”

That was how Tempest found herself, Coldstar, and Streaming Breeze lurking in a ditch not far from the eastern gatehouse on the bank of the river. Sidâl had appeared next to them at some point, no one was sure how. Furthermore, they had a squad of soldiers, some of the best not involved in the fighting on the island, said Zefîrôs; who were equipped with two ladders.

“I didn't know you took orders from Reshîv.” Tempest said to Sidâl as they waited in the dirt.

“I don't.” He answered. “I do this out of the good will in my heart.”

“Sure.” She noted that Sidâl had no armor, only his long coat and usual clothes. He didn't seem to have any visible weapons either. Madman, he's a madman.

“Alright Blackwinds, the time is now.” Stated Sidâl. Tempest nodded, and she and her two soldiers shot into the air. They approached quickly and lowly. Coldstar sped ahead and off to the left, the blade on her forearm stretched out. She arced around and brought down the first sentry they saw silently. Streaming Breeze took a torch from along the wall and threw it down, to mark where it was clear. Below, the soldiers and Sidâl jumped out of the ditch and rushed forwards with their two ladders. Hurry, hurry, thought Tempest, glancing around worriedly. It wouldn't be long until someone noticed a missing torch. There was a soft clunk as the ladders went up.

“What's that over there?” Came a voice from the further along the wall.

“I think we've got trouble, sound the alarm.”

Fuck! swore Tempest silently.

“Just in time.” Said Streaming Breeze, as Sidâl came over the wall. The Athairîm soldiers followed him, halberds and hammers at the ready.

“Cause some chaos.” He ordered. “I'll take care of the rest.” The gatehouse bell started ringing, they were onto them.

“How long will it-” Started Coldstar, before realizing Sidâl had vanished. Tempest took the moment to get a grasp on the gatehouse's layout. It wasn't really like a wall, more of an elevated platform with battlements. There was lots of open space between the battlements and a central structure which sat over the gate itself.

“Right, you heard the man.” Said the Athairîm sergeant. “Let's move!” The soldiers split into two groups. One went towards the the entrance to the gatehouse proper, the other covered the corner where they had heard the voices come from. The clank of armor approached. It was time. Tempest and her pegasi took to the air again, hovering in place. She wasn't sure how long she could keep it up though, with her own armor being as heavy as it was.

The clash began. Verâdîm soldiers came from around the corner, and out from the door of the actual gatehouse. She had no idea how it happened, but Tempest soon found herself under attack as well. There were four Verâdîm for the three of them. Coldstar and Streaming Breeze were drawn off, leaving Tempest against two. Fortunately, both had swords, which put them at a moderate disadvantage because of her superior armor. Furthermore, Tempest could fly, and attack when she chose to... Or not at all.

One of the Verâdîm came forward, sword raised. The other moved away, forcing Tempest to choose between them. Instead, she just pushed herself backwards in the air, keeping both in front of her. Turaz once told her to search for weak points; these men had no armor on their lower legs or upper arms, and their helmets did not protect the front of their necks. It was time to be clever.

Unfortunately, Tempest was not good at being clever. While she tried to come up with a plan, the two men had both charged her at once, each one trying to get past one of her own two swords. Clashing and clanging, they bounced off her dual blades, no doubt chipping harshly. This was Tempest's greatest disadvantage: her swords acted as extensions of her forelimbs, the shocks from blades meeting was much harsher to her than the humans and their hand-held weapons. Already it was beginning to wear on her, if they kept it up for a few minutes, she'd have to withdraw.

She lurched to the left, spinning around one of the swordsmen. He turned too, but not quickly enough; Tempest cut a long gash in his upper sword-arm. He yelled in anger, and stumbled. Now! The pegasus reversed her course as quickly as she could, and before her opponent could act, she had jammed her left sword between his helmet's neck-guard and breastplate. One down, she thought uneasily.

It was obvious her remaining attacker was a much better soldier than his partner. He advanced slowly and steadily, not wasting any energy. Their eyes met, though their faces were both obscured by visors. Tempest's first strike was rebuffed, and her second; the Verâdîm returned none of them. It continued as such for what could either have been seconds or hours, Tempest couldn't tell the passage of time any more. The man sidestepped one of her swings, and lunged at her side. A biting pain burned, and she cried out. His sword is only red on the tip, it's not deep.

Then she was reeling through the air, something had smashed into her helmet. Oh no, oh no- Tempest was laying on the ground. This was bad, real bad- Footsteps, boots on stone. The Verâdîm still had his sword readied, he wasn't dropping his guard like the one at Seshilîon. But he stopped, and looked around, slowly turning in a circle. The blue-grey pegasus suddenly realized that everything was much quieter than before. They were surrounded by blue, brown, and grey-clad men..

“Do you fight for Reshîv or Aharôs?” Asked the Verâdîm in a gravelly voice.

“Prince Reshîv.” Answered what could have only been an Athairîm soldier. The man who had been closer to finishing off Tempest threw down his sword, and took off his helmet. She was shocked to see that her opponent seemed to be at least sixty years old.

“Then the war's over for me, no point in fighting on when I'm surrounded.” He declared.

“A wise choice.” Said who could have only been the Athairîm sergeant, given the single chain going across his right shoulder. “Had we been Aharôs's soldiers, it may have been wiser to fight on. Unlike his lot, we don't feed sacrifice our prisoners for the favor of demons.” All three pegasi decided now would not be a good time to talk. Tempest rolled over, and tried to get back into the air without standing up. Wretched blades.

“We should get that attended to, my Queen.” Whispered Streaming Breeze.

“Yeah.”

“I wasn't aware Aharôs had Equestrian mercenaries.” Noted the Verâdîm, looking at them.

“Mercenaries?” Asked Coldstar under her breath, sounding indignant.

“It's a long story.” The Athairîm replied. “I don't know the half of it myself.”

A handful of Reshîv's men went into the gatehouse, presumably to find Sidâl who had obviously succeeded in his task. Another lit a little rocket, which streaked into the air burning a bright blue. “Why was this place so lightly guarded?” Asked the sergeant.

“Most of our men were in the central keep, waiting for the attack there.” The Verâdîm man looked out through the night, to where the fires and flashes were taking place on the north end of the island. “The cannons across the river drew more off. Had we known that flying Equestrians were in your ranks, perhaps we wouldn't have sent so many. I warned them that it might have been a diversion, but they didn't listen.”

“Sounds like you've had more experience than most men here.” The sergeant suggested.

“I've been in this war since it began. This is a better ending than any I ever thought I'd get. For a while I was convinced you were just going to starve us out.” Replied the Verâdîm. “We've all heard what they say about Aharôs the Cruel, but at least he's finished this, for better or for worse.”

Reshîv's reserves began to pile through the open gates, down the bridge to the central fortress, led by the Duke of Terâd himself, on zôshaback. With an assault on the main gate, and an assault from the north by water, combined with the threat of a breakthrough on the western side... It was over Jashenîon and its defenders.

The bastion that had sustained the Verâdîm defiance for twenty-five years surrendered at the sun's zenith, on Eserana, the first day of summer.

Tempest had long since been attended to by one of the Alaiaîn priests in Reshîv's army, from the same healer's order as Brenan. The wound, right between her wing and shoulder, hadn't been too serious, but she'd need to avoid fighting and other strenuous activities for the next few weeks. Not that anything else of note will happen now. Snowy had been asleep when Tempest finally returned to the tent, as were most of the other pegasi. And when Tempest woke up again, all the others demanded to know what had happened.

“It was a lucky hit I didn't see coming.” She had lied. No real Queen would ever admit to being bested by an old peasant man. They all seemed to believe it, except Snowy.

“You're too careful for- for something like that.” Her companion said in the late morning. The final reserves were rushing into the battle, as other men retreated wearily. The cycle of rotation was a luxury the Verâdîm could not have, and thus their loss.

“I know...” Admitted Tempest. “I'm really not the fighter they think I am. I can do fine against one, but two? No way, not yet.” How am I ever going to take on Celestia with skills like this? She probably wasn't, in all likelihood.

Aharôs and Reshîv both emerged from the eastern gatehouse looking like they had been through Hell. Their armor was dented, they were bruised and stained with blood. Aharôs looked the worse for wear between the two. “The day is ours.” He announced to all those listening. There were no cheers, only a collective sigh of relief. The Prince disappeared, and Reshîv meandered off, talking to various soldiers. Turaz and his sergeant, Haior, showed up next, practically dead men walking. The impossible knight mumbled something at her when she tried to ask for information. Baron Kairôs emerged from the retreating column, his own gear was so battered that it wasn't able to be removed properly. Yet, the young Baron looked quite pleased with himself, and all the Thecha men seemed to be in good, if exhausted, spirits. A bell after noon, and all was quiet. Everyone was asleep or in the fortress.

“Funny, isn't it.” Said Sidâl, who had emerged from nowhere as Tempest watched the column from a low hill.

“What's funny?” Asked Tempest, wary of any fooleries from the man.

“We lost a good third of our army in there.” He stated.

“That's not really funny, Sidâl.” The pegasus sighed.

“No, I suppose it isn't.” Acknowledged Sidâl.

“Are you going to tell anyone what you were up to in that tunnel of yours?” She questioned, getting right to the point.

“No, it's best no one knows. Only the unfortunate prisoners know, and they are beyond us now.” Beyond us now? That sent shivers down her back. “But, for their sacrifice, the war is all but over now. This was the heart of Verâd's resistance. There are still minor castles and lords out there, but the cause is over now. It's for the greater good, wouldn't you think?”

“Perhaps.” Then, Sidâl changed the subject.

“Have the dreams stayed away?” He asked.

“Well, yeah.” Said Tempest.

“Good, good.” Nodded the man. “It's been reported to me that Luna's power over the dreamworld is increasing by the day. We wouldn't want her in your mind now, would we?”

“No.” The pegasus didn't like that thought at all. “How do you know all this, anyway?”

“It pays to have sources in the world, my Queen. I'm just a well-informed man.” Sidâl shrugged.

“That's a bit of an understatement, given your powers.”

“My powers?” He snorted dismissively. “No, not mine. Never mine. I told you, I am but well-informed. Anyone with the information I have would be able to do it.”

“And where would you have to go for that?” Asked the Queen of Highcrest.

“Didn't I tell you that I went to Lazkadai?” Asked back Sidâl.

“Yes, and further.” She agreed.

“Therein lies the answer. If you wish to know what I know, simply cross the Peaks of Heaven and survive long enough.” Explained the man. “It's a dangerous world we live in, and even more dangerous beyond Sarathûl. Equestria is a soft, tamed land. Sarathûl is wild, but bearable. Lazkadai is deadly to the untrained. And beyond... Well, there are some places man was not meant to go.” Tempest waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

“Really?” She asked. “You're going to drop hints like that and not say anything more?”

“Yes.” Sidâl smiled, an annoying smile, and left without a further word. I really don't know if I should hate him or fear him. Maybe both.

Nothing else of interest happened that day. But on the morning of the second day of summer, the camp had returned to almost normal. There were far fewer men than before, but now the survivors had recovered their strength, and told their stories.

Aharôs had been the first off the boat at the northern gap, with Reshîv at his side. They had cleared a way in for everyone else behind them, beginning an eighteen-hour long battle in and around the central keep. The two Princes had retired to the back of the lines after six hours, but the fight continued under command of Sir Turaz and Mayor Pashal. The Verâdîm were a mix of expert veterans and levied peasants; it was the veterans who had given them the hardest time. Without those few thousand soldiers, the battle would have been over in half the time. Instead, they fought to the bitter end, only surrendering when their leader had been disarmed in combat by a refreshed Reshîv just before noon.

At the eastern wall's diversion, Baron Kairôs had actually managed to seize a few square feet of wall; he and his Thechai held it for the duration of the battle. Apparently, the Duke of Terâd had became so confident of their position that had had started funneling troops through there as well. It was one of the finer moments of the battle. And of course, there was the attack on the gatehouse. Luckily, the story of what really happened hadn't gotten out. Perhaps no one saw it until it was almost over?

What was only spoken of in hushed voices and in the shadows were the astounding casualties of the assault, an entire third of the army either dead or wounded. It was said that they could have starved the fortress into submission with far fewer losses, or battered down its older walls with the cannons. Few were happy that so many had been lost so needlessly. Reshîv had been sure to mention this. The men didn't speak of all about Sidâl's tunnel. That pit now lay abandoned, but avoided. A cold air still seeped out of it, and a metallic smell could sometimes be detected.

Two more days of rest passed, before the final leg of their journey through Verâd began. Tempest still hadn't found out who was leading the rebellion. The Verâdîm themselves didn't seem to have a good idea either. There was only a vague reference to a council of nobles in Dônara-Kur. That was their destination. With the rebels all but eliminated, the march to the capital city took but a few days.

Dônara-Kur lowered its banners and opened its gates the moment they saw the crowned flower of Athair and Aharôs approach. Aharôs the Cruel, they've come to call him. It was a bad way to begin a reign. Tempest wasn't surprised to discover that Dônara-Kur looked much like a smaller Vatherîon. All the townsfolk had hidden indoors in case of the worst, but Athairîm did nothing of the sort. The column of Athairîm moved onto the city's crowning hill, where the former King's citadel was. They could see the ocean from here, shining and blue in the summer sun. A collection of two and three-masted ships sat far out in the bay, all with the blue flower on their sails. Up here, Aharôs and Reshîv finally met their counterparts inside the citadel. Tempest and the other pegasi were not in attendance of this meeting, however. They were made to sit outside with the rest of the column, Sir Turaz and Mayor Pashal among them.

“It's all ended so fast.” Said Turaz. “A generation of war wrapped up in a week.”

“A season ahead of schedule, too.” Hearth Blackwind added. “The Prince wanted it over by fall, but we're barely into summer, and here we are.”

“Here we are.” Echoed the Mayor of Sturaj.

“I'm glad it's over.” The knight then said.

“It hasn't even begun.” Disagreed Pashal.

“I don't like that notion.” Turaz grumbled. As the day went by, Baron Kairôs emerged from the citadel to direct everyone to their lodgings in the town. The pegasi were being housed outside the city with the main army, as usual. Word eventually filtered down that the Regency Council of Verâd, the nobles and merchants who had apparently been directing the entire rebellion, had agreed to recognize the Loiar claim to the Verâdîm throne. Rumor had it that Aharôs had wished the entire Regency Council to be executed, but Reshîv had stayed his hand. Tempest agreed with the younger Prince's course of action; they were in trouble enough with the Verâdîm as it was, perhaps it was time for temperance.

The day turned into several days, which turned into a full week of back and for between the two Princes and the Verâdîm authorities. By the end of the week, all the green banners with silver swallows were now accompanied by white banners with blue flowers. There was no doubt that they'd be combined into a single flag at some point, but it wasn't happening yet. The whole week was a dull affair, except for one point at the very end. Both Tempest and Snowy were busy being useless; the beige pegasus continued her quest for information in the Kaiathîsa, while the blue-grey one practiced handwriting. Or is it hoof-writing? Mouth-writing? She had no idea what to call it when one held the pen in one's mouth.

“Aha!” Snowy suddenly exclaimed, leaping up unusually fast.

“Mmh?” Tempest questioned without words, still holding her pen.

“Finally, progress.” Sighed Snowy in relief. “I-its' right here.”

“You actually found something useful? Excellent!” Tempest dropped the pen and hopped over to Snowy. “Which chapter is this?”

“Appendix f-four, on the dangers of alicorn magic and its relationship to the world.” Answered the other mare. Tempest didn't know much about the book, but the appendices had all been added at varying points after the conquest of Sarathûl. Appendix four was the final chapter of the book, compiled from many older sources, in the sixth century.

“Doesn't sound like it's religious.” Noted Tempest.

“To understand the Lord of Heaven, we must understand the world.” Snowy replied, no doubt quoting the very book before her. “Even m-magic.”

“So, what did you find?”

“It says... Long ago, there were men whose power brought c-cold winds, and- and... the alicorns did not like them, apparently. There is nothing else.” Snowy looked up apologetically.

“It's... something, at least. So alicorns wouldn't like Sidâl, if he's got these same powers. That's a big if.” Mused the blue-grey pegasus. “Well, at least he's against Celestia.”

“So we hope.”

The next day, the journey home began. The War of Verâdîm Succession, as Îrilôs had named it, had ended not with a bang, but with a whimper, as the old phrase went in Equestria. Hearth once said that it referred to the defeat of Redfang the Wrathful, the Scourge of the South. That dragon had laid waste to all of the lands south of Equestria, only to die in a random landslide years later. While the column moved south at a slow and comfortable pace, Aharôs and Reshîv decided they would take their personal guard swiftly ahead. The pegasi were brought along too, to scout the way, just in case of any would-be holdouts. Snowy and Tempest shared their discovery with Turaz one evening.

“That could mean anything.” He said. “But at least its something.”

“That's what I said.” Remarked Tempest.

“I'm afraid Lady Snowy knows more about these things than I do. I'm just a commoner made a knight, I never had education in these matters.” The three had a moment of thought.

“Brenan is with the main army, and I don't think we should trust Îrilôs with everything. We really are on our own with this.” Stated Tempest.

“One way or another, we'll find out what Sidâl's game really is. The sooner we do that, the better. I'd rather not have Prince Aharôs remembered as one who held congress with demons and sorcerers.” The knight declared.

And so, they continued to Vatherîon, the capital city of Athair. It was quick going through Verâd's countryside, much quicker with only a hundred men on zôshaback instead of a few thousand on foot with a load of cannons and a baggage train. Everything was quiet now. Tempest even dared to be optimistic: I do think that's the end of our troubles for now.

As she would soon find out in Vatherîon, Tempest was completely wrong, and Mayor Pashal was completely right. It had only just begun.

Author's Notes:

Alternative doompaul.
Fun fact: This was supposed to be three separate chapters, but I've gotten so far off my time schedule that I've rolled it all into one for the sake of getting things moving again. We were supposed to be out of Verâd 20,000 words ago, but I guess I'm too thorough a story-writer for that. Remember all the times I've promised that things are about to Happen? Well, it's about to all pay off!
In retrospect, this is one of my weaker chapters, if not the weakest.