“Left!” Tempest raised a leg to block the incoming blow. “Good.” Sir Herikôs commented, backing off but still holding the halberd ready. Immediately, the pegasus turned to her right, readying her other sword leg, just in time to stop Waterborn's attack. “Very good!” The old knight voiced his approval.

“Wrong!” Declared Redfern, flying out of nowhere. He smashed Tempest out of the air, and hovered above. Before she could get up, Herikôs was stabbing at her. She tried to dodge, but was too slow.

“No!” Yelled Herikôs. “You're in armor, girl! Don't dodge when you can let something glance off it!” And how am I supposed to know when it'll glance instead of pierce?! fumed Tempest, too out of breathe to actually speak.

“And now, you die.” Waterborn stated, swooping in with a blade between the segmented plates over her neck. “Sorry, my queen.” Apologized the old brown and silver pegasus.

“How...” Gasped Tempest, laying defeated on the ground. “...Do I fight three... At once?” Even with her height advantage on the other pegasi, she was still beaten.

“With lots of practice.” Answered Sir Herikôs, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You're getting a lot better now.”

“You lasted four minutes this time, my queen, far longer than Snowy ever has against even one opponent.” Remarked Redfern. Snowy Farpeak looked down in shame from her perch on the crate against the fortress wall. Yeah, well... The rightful Queen of Highcrest didn't know how to respond to a statement that, though unkind, was completely true.

“Tempest will be a fine soldier, some day.” Prince Aharôs announced, who had been watching from the side the entire time. “But I'm glad you're not going into real battle just yet.”

“I am too.” Agreed Tempest, still laying where she fell. The ground was extremely comfortable at the moment. “Battles last hours, but I can't go four minutes without... Collapsing.”

“You'd be surprised what you can do when the blood begins flowing.” Aharôs said. “Though you can't always rely on that. I overdid it once, and almost died.” The Prince shook his head. That was the day Sir Turaz became Sir Turaz. The former porter had told that story several times. His deeds always became greater each time, the mysterious warhammer-weilder always became taller, Prince Reshîv's horn always became more glorious to hear.

“I'll be careful.” Noted Tempest.

“You'll be dead!” Threatened Sir Herikôs, brandishing the halberd. “At least you would be if Turaz was here. Kid knows his way with a halberd.”

“I'll say.” Grunted Waterborn, pointing to a long scar up his left foreleg. That was a story Turaz didn't tell. The same went for Waterborn.

“You're doing well, Tempest.” Aharôs affirmed, straightening his robes. “Get some rest, now. Turaz should be back from Sturaj by nightfall, and tomorrow, we march.” The blue-grey pegasis nodded, heaving herself off the ground. This armor makes everything impossible, she grumbled internally. And they wanted her to fly for hours in it! She could barely manage twenty minutes!

As she stood, the group dispersed. Redfern and Waterborn probably went off to discuss how bad things were, while Herikôs went to the kitchens. Aharôs had princely matters to attend to, leaving Snowy and Tempest alone. Snowy, of course, was another pegasus, with a slightly curly mane striped by blue and a lighter blue, and a pale beige coat. She was rather pudgy, being more adept at reading and thinking than the fighting that everyone and everypony seemed to want her to do. And that is why they all look down on her. But for Tempest, Snowy was her best friend; the fact she was three years older was hardly relevant.

“You were great out there!” Said Snowy, gliding down off her perch. “With a little more time, you'll be unstoppable.”

“Thanks, Snowy.” Tempest replied, taking a lurching step forward. “Do you have any idea how I get out of this armor?” As it turned out, Snowy did not know how to remove Tempest's armor, which led to a brief adventure of finding someone who did. Once it was safely stowed in the armory, Tempest had to change back into her normal clothing, little more than a long vest and a cloak. Snowy was already similarly attired. Uncle Hearth said that clothes were unnecessary to ponies, but Tempest and Snowy both felt less out of place here if they looked more like their human hosts. After ten years, all eight pegasi had been dressing themselves rather than go about unclad.

“Sure is cloudy.” Remarked the beige pegasus, as the two walked back outside.

“Think it'll rain?” Asked a nearby human guard who had overheard her.

“N- No, not today.” Snowy replied, a bit nervously.

“Good to know.” Acknowledged the guard. The two went on their way, climbing up the inner wall. Beyond was an open field, about one hundred yards across, to the much newer outer walls, kept bare of anything but grass and rock. Aharôs had called it a killing field, an area designed to give would-be enemies no cover or escape from incoming missiles, be they bullet or bolt, or even arrow. Fortunately, Nikadîon hadn't been attacked in four hundred years, and no enemy had gotten through what were now the inner walls in over five hundred. With the new outer walls, there was no telling how long the fortress could hold against whatever enemies fate threw against it.

“Any idea on what we're supposed to do now?” Asked Snowy, as they surveyed the view before them.

“Aharôs didn't tell us to do anything... I guess we're free for the rest of the day.” Tempest answered. Neither pegasus said anything for a while; a common occurrence that had long since ceased bothering them. Today's air was cool, and smelled of the salty sea, mixed with the occasional scent of smoke from the many fireplaces of the human fortress. Salt and smoke, the two smells she had been practically raised on. For Tempest, those meant home. I wonder if...

“Snowy, when you think of home, what does it smell like?” Tempest questioned. The beige mare turned to her in slight surprise.

“Smell like?” Repeated Snowy, confused.

“Yeah. What does home smell like to you?” Tempest asked again.

“You always have the strangest questions...” There was a slight smile on Snowy's face as she spoke, but it quickly slipped away as she stared at the mountain across the river below. “The thing is, Tempest, you were only- only five when we came here. I was eight, I actually remember Equestria... I don't know what is more of a home to me, that... place, or here.” Snowy lowered her head, and rested it on the parapet of the wall.

“Well, tell me about both.” Stated the blue-grey pegasus, in a tone that implied how obvious her solution was.

“I...” Snowy shook her head, and started over. “Greatfall has always been the home for the house of Farpeak. It was dark. Scary... It smelled- smelled stale, if that's what you want to know. Most of my time was spent below ground. I try not to- no to think about it too much.” She shuddered, banishing away the hauntings of the past. I'll need to get her to tell me about that one day. Tempest knew something had happened with Snowy there; she had been captured when the Blackwind forces had stormed Greatfall and taken it. Whatever had occurred, the filly had expressed a strong desire to not return, as Uncle Hearth had put it years later. After breathing deeply for a few moments- one of Father Brenan's cleansing rituals, Tempest noticed- Snowy continued on. “Then I came here, to Sarathûl. I wasn't born here, but this is where I grew up, this is where my life became so much... more.”

“You do realize our situation, right?” Tempest interjected dejectedly. Snowy shot her an annoyed look.

“That's- That's not the issue. And for interrupting me, you- you don't get to know the answer to your question.” The beige pegasus scowled, and sniffed irritably.

“Oh, come on, that's an over-reaction, and you know it!” Accused Tempest, pointing a hoof.

“No!” Declared Snowy. She stamped on the stone walkway; and then proceeded to wince in pain. Nevertheless, she went on. “We have it very good here, Tempest. Our situation is far better than you think it is!” The rightful Queen of Highcrest was taken aback by the energy in the voice of her normally docile friend. “We have clean water, we- we have plenty of food, we have people we can trust, and no one is trying to- to hurt us. What more could you want?” Tempest had to admit, Snowy had a point. “I'm sorry for yelling, and I know how- how much you and your family have been wronged, but...”

“But..?” Prompted Tempest. Snowy gazed up the river, and it was her turn to sound dejected.

“...But you see those with nothing left, and suddenly, your life doesn't seem so...”

“Pointless?” Suggested the blue-grey pegasus.

“Yeah. You- You could say that.” Snowy nodded. “They took your crown, your homeland, and your mother, but you've still got somewhere where you're welcome. You've got Prince Aharôs looking after you, and for what it's worth, you've got the rest of us too. I've seen- I've seen people here with a lot less than that.” She sighed heavily, and sat down. “Sorry again, about getting all moralistic. It's not my place to criticize my queen.”

“I count you as a friend before subject, Snowy, you can speak your mind with me, no matter what it is.” Dismissed Tempest. “You're right though. Things aren't as bad as I make them out to be... But I just feel so useless doing nothing here. And I don't know what is worse, being useless, or preferring uselessness to fighting in a war.” She confessed.

“There's no shame in being afraid.” Snowy said gently. “I- I feel the same way, and I'm not even going to be fighting.”

“I suppose...” The blue-grey pegasus replied, though not at all convinced.

“From what you've told me, it doesn't even sound like you'll be close to the battle at all.” The other mare continued, not letting up in her efforts to reassure her friend.

“No, not this time. But eventually, Aharôs wants me to actually get in there and kill. Kill people.” Tempest was no stranger to death, but the thought of killing another living, thinking being, by her own hoof...

“I know. Father Brenan says there is seldom a greater tragedy than for man to kill his fellow man. We're not men, we're pegasi- and mares at that, but the notion still applies.” Snowy glanced at the church, nestled against the keep's flat sides. “But God's law and man's law are often at odds. Our host wants this to be so, and we cannot refuse. It's not our place.”

Tempest only sighed in defeat. “Never thought I'd hear you advocating for violence, Snowy.” That seemed to hurt the other mare; Tempest immediately regretted saying it.

“I'm not advocating- I- I just...” She had the same look she got when Coldstar had drunkenly told her that it would have been better if Snowy drowned in the storm, for all the use she was to the Blackwind cause. Drunken words, true words, yes, but still unnecessarily harsh. Damnit Snowy, you take things too personally! You're a daughter of house Farpeak, you're supposed to be brave, strong, indomitable! But Snowy was none of those, and the rightful Queen of Highcrest held nothing against her for it. It's who she is, that'd be like asking Aharôs to smile more. Or Brenan to go murder some peasants. The latter scenario was more fitting to Snowy, neither priest nor pegasus was very enthusiastic about bloodshed. “What do you want me to tell- to tell you to do?” Asked Snowy, distressed. “To spit on their traditions and- and throw away everything you have? Or to do as the Prince says even if I don't think it's right?”

“Calm down.” Stated Tempest. “I know you're just trying to help me, you don't need to defend yourself.” The blue-grey mare wanted to tell her she was too emotional, but she knew that'd only lead to more emotional outbursts. And I'm the young one, Tempest noted, taking in the irony. Snowy breathed deeply again, and closed her eyes.

“Alright.” She said. “Alright.” The beige mare took ahold of herself once more. “I- I- I need to stay calm.”

“That you do.” Tempest agreed. “Try not to get so worked up about everything.”

“Brenan says... He says I'm getting better.” Stated Snowy, though she didn't sound entirely sure. “What do you think, Tempest? Am I- Am I getting better?” The blue-grey pegasus wasn't sure how to answer that question.

“I can't say, Snowy.” Admitted Tempest, looking at the river below. “But whatever you're doing, it's working right now. Just try and catch yourself before you jump, if you get what I'm saying.” Snowy nodded, understanding completely.

“It's- It's a lot of work, but at least it's work I can do... For once.” She muttered, narrowing her eyes. “With effort, anything can be done, that's what the humans say.”

“And I hope they're right.” Tempest said. “You have to stay calm, I have to fight. I'd much rather have your troubles than mine.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Agreed Snowy with a smile.

The next two days passed in a flurry of training, studying tactics, sleeping, and talking with Snowy when she could. Turaz returned, bringing news that Sturaj would indeed be joining them. Four days after Aharôs had produced Celestia's letter, the garrison of Nikadîon began to march out, heading for Sturaj. The Prince himself rode at the front of the column, on his brown and white zôsha, the three-hooved mounts the humans brought with them from the Far North fifteen hundred years ago. Sir Turaz and Sir Eberis flanked him; Eberis carried the royal banner. Duke Îrilôs had weaseled his way to the front as well. Behind them came the handful of knights and cavalrymen stationed at Nikadîon, Herikôs among them, and behind them came most of the castle's garrison, nearly a thousand men at arms. They were professionals, not conscripts or foolhardy volunteers that were likely to make up the majority of the army by the time it got to Verâd. Somewhere in the mass was Father Brenan, and a handful of acolytes to tend to those that would surely die in battle.

The pegasi, however, flew at a leisurely pace overhead. Tempest nearly thanked the human's god that no one had insisted that she wear her armor while flying this time; it was still proving incredibly difficult to fly in. She took the lead in the wedge-shaped formation they flew in, with Hearth and Coldstar heading the two angled lines behind her. Air currents formed by the lead pegasi's beating wings would ease the strain of the ones flying behind her, thus they would all take turns at the front eventually. Except Snowy. Tempest and Hearth agreed that it'd be best to keep her in the back, as she was not the strongest flier.

Once the column was moving, it only stopped once for supper, before marching on through the night to Sturaj. They arrived when the Nightlord's- Luna's moon was high above in the sky, shining on the dark world like a pale beacon. Riders were sent to alert the city to their presence, lest any spooked guard ordered the wall cannons to open fire. Aharôs had the column set up camp on the western side of Sturaj, along the road that would eventually take them to Vatherîon, capital of Athair, and then to the Kingdom of Verâd. Tempest had been to Vatherîon only once, and it was the furthest west she had ever been in her life. The entire continent of Sarathûl lay beyond, none of which she had ever seen. If it weren't for the fact that she was going west for the purposes of war, Tempest would have been excited. Has any pony ever been beyond Athair? she wondered.

Equestrians sometimes visited the Barrier islands, and even more rarely turned up in Surana or Tashan, or any other eastern port of the easternmost state of the humans. But as far as Tempest knew, no pony other than herself, Snowy, and Hearth had ever been inland as far as Vatherîon. Well, I'm sure there have been alicorns that had gone across the whole continent, but I wouldn't know if any are still around or not. Tempest vaguely recalled that at least one of the first generation of alicorns was still alive, at least as of ten years ago... What was his name? Ages? Ages something. Tempest figured it was more than likely he'd been in all parts of Old Alicornia at one time or another. However, she was confident that she'd be among the first, if not the first lesser pony to travel deeper into this land.

Dawn came the next day, but with no horns. Aharôs was letting the men get their sleep after their long march from Nikadîon. First bell came, then second, then third and only then did the camp come to life. Four hours after dawn, in Equestrian time. Human time was based on their bells, which in turn were divided into six parts according to the length of daylight on the equinox, or so her uncle had said. Conveniently, this worked moderately well with Equestrian time; enough that many humans now used Equestrian hours as subdivisions of their bells. Inconveniently, for most of the year, the day began hours before sunrise or hours after. Tempest wasn't sure why they stuck to this strange system, but the humans did many strange things she didn't understand. She spent the day with Turaz and Redfern, as they tried to work out a balance between how much armor she could wear while still maintaining enough flying ability. Snowy was present as well, saying nothing and keeping out of the way as usual. Eventually, Duke Îrilôs turned up.

“Good afternoon, my queen.” Greeted the black-haired man with a bow. “I see you're enjoying the products of my family's city.”

“Enjoying?” Grunted Tempest, as Turaz buckled her chestplate on for what felt like the hundredth time this day. “That's a bit of a stretch.”

“I'm sure your opinion will be much more favorable when bullets bounce off off of you.” Said Îrilôs.

“Of course.” The rightful Queen of Highcrest agreed.

“Protection sacrifices mobility.” Stated Redfern. “I'd rather be lightly armored and still be able to fly at full speed, myself.”

“But you're not a queen.” Îrilôs pointed out. “Our lady here is, she is not so...”

“Expendable?” Asked Redfern. The Imperial envoy laughed.

“A blunt way to put it, but honest.” He nodded. “Yes, Queen Tempest must not fall to a mere bullet.”

“That much is obvious.” Said Turaz, stepping back. He observed his handiwork. Tempest's armor had been reduced to her chestplate, helmet, and foreleg greaves. “Well, unless you're shot in the neck or ass, you should be fine like this. I don't think anyone could hit a moving target in the leg.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.” Tempest replied dryly. “That completely negates all the amputated limbs I see on your veterans.”

“Accidents happen.” Shrugged the knight.

“Indeed, they do. You're quick, though, as I've been led to believe, it will be hard to hit you with anything.” Affirmed Îrilôs. “However, I didn't come to discuss the merits of shooting a pegasus. My queen, your host would like you to dine with him at tonight's supper. The mayor of Sturaj will be there, as will I, so it is of paramount importance you attend.”

“Great.” Sighed the blue-grey pegasus. “I love formalities.”

“Wonderful, aren't they?” Smiled the Imperial envoy. “In any case, be present in the Prince's tent by sixth bell. Not to presume I could command you, my queen.”

“Got it.” Tempest acknowledged. “Is there any other reason you're here?”

“Can a man not go where he pleases?” Asked Îrilôs in return. “In any case, there's someone who would like an audience, my queen. His name is Desîf, he's a secretary of the Mayor of Sturaj.”

“Desîf is here? How fortuitous.” Sir Turaz noted.

“I see you've already met. He's around here somewhere, I'm sure.” The Imperial envoy began to move off. “Now, if you excuse me, I have matters to attend to with the Prince.”

“We should find Desîf.” Stated Turaz. “I imagine he's got a lot of questions. We met a few days ago in Sturaj, just in case you were wondering.”

“Ah...” Tempest nodded, though she was a bit skeptical of this. “Well, what harm could it do? Snowy, come on, we're going to find this man.” The other mare stood up and quietly trotted over.

“Why do we need her?” Asked the knight. “She can hardly talk!”

“Snowy's coming with, that's final.” The rightful Queen of Highcrest stated. Snowy gave her a slight smile in thanks, but said nothing for her own defense. In fact, she purposefully positioned herself as far from Turaz as she could get while still staying close to the two. When it comes to fight or flight, it's flight every time with her, Tempest sighed inwardly.

It didn't take long to find this Desîf fellow, as he managed to find them first. He was a smaller man, balding with round lenses over his eyes. They were a human device, designed to focus bad eyesight. “Hello there!” He greeted cheerfully, and with a deep bow. “Your highness, it is an honor to meet you in person.”

“You've heard about me?” Asked Tempest.

“Of course!” Declared the secretary. “It is well-known that Prince Aharôs keeps company with the Blackwind pegasi, or whatever may be left of them.”

“Well, you've found one of them.” Said the blue-grey pegasus. “My uncle is around somewhere...”

“Oh, I'd much rather talk to you, your highness.” Desîf said dismissively. He glanced at Snowy. “Who is this?”

“I- I- I-” Stuttered the beige pegasus, looking very uncomfortable.

“That's Snowy, of house Farpeak.” Answered Tempest. Saved you again. “She's not very keen on talking to strangers.”

“I was like that, once. But no matter. I have many questions, your highness, I hope you would be so kind as to answer them...” And so began several hours of Desîf learning all about Equestria, as much as Tempest could tell him. Turaz decided they should all sit in his tent instead of stand in the middle of everyone's path. Eventually, Tempest ended up explaining her family's recent history: Of how her mother, Maelstrom Blackwind, had been betrayed by the other pegasi of Highcrest when the Whitewind dynasty had failed, of how she raised a rebellion for the Throne of Clouds, that was hers by right, of how Aharôs had aided their war, of how the Sun Queen had sent her firstborn to end it, and of how Tempest had come to Sarathûl.

“You never mentioned your father.” Desîf noted.

“I... I never knew my father. I never learned who he was. I wasn't exactly born from a marriage...” The pegasus admitted shamefully.

“Ah...” The secretary realized, wisely saying nothing on the touchy subject.

“That's right.” Turaz stated. “Our good mare is by all means the bastard daughter of Maelstrom. In all technicality, Hearth Blackwind, Maelstrom's oldest brother, ought to be King of Highcrest now.”

“But my uncle declined the title, so I've been told. He thought a younger pegasus should take the throne.” Explained Tempest. “I don't know about that. But I guess I'm the best we've got, and I've still got a better claim to Highcrest than the Swiftrains.” She said the name with venom.

“How did they come to the throne in the first place, if their claim is weaker than yours?” Asked Desîf, scratching his head.

“Flattery and deceit.” Spat Tempest. “It began when Stratus Whitewind died with no heir. We Blackwinds are descended from Hurricane's second daughter, Squall, and Prince Quercus, one of the Sun Queen and Nightlord's lesser brothers.” The secretary suddenly looked much more alert.

“Wait, who's brother was he? The Sun Queen, or Nightlord?” He questioned.

“Both.” Answered Turaz. “The Sun Queen and Nightlord were sister and brother.” This seemed to horrify Desîf. “Their parents were brother and sister as well, by definition, though not by blood. The alicorn's early history is vague at best on their exact relation, at least of what they've made available to us.”

“The first alicorns were all brothers and sisters, but each one was, uh, distinctly different, I guess, from the others, like Turaz and his wife are different from each other.” Tempest attempted to clarify. “This seems to have been passed on to all the children produced by the first alicorns, from what I understand.”

“It's the only valid way for such a small original population to give rise to such a great race, as the alicorns were in their prime.” Added in Turaz.

“That is... Unusual.” Desîf said, still looking rather disturbed. “But back to Quercus.”

“My line is descended from Squall Whitewind and he.” Tempest continued. “The Swiftrains have no relation at all, but convinced the unicorns to help put them on the throne, as they'd serve their interests, unlike my mother. Somehow, they got the other pegasi houses to go along with them, including the Farpeaks!”

“Her house?” The lensed man pointed at Snowy. The other mare nodded in affirmation. “But what's she doing here if they supported your enemies?”

“Snowy is a prisoner that liked her captors enough to stay with them.” Interjected Turaz. “She's with them, now, not that it'll do them much good.”

“The Farpeaks have always been at odds with the unicorns, and to side with them... It probably took some serious flattery and deceit.” Tempest guessed. “My mother tried to work with the new queen, Prysm Swiftrain, but they all turned against her. Not long after, something happened to Prysm and her council. No one is really sure what, but they all died.”

“Sounds convenient.”

“It was, and Prysm's sister accused Maelstrom of being behind it. She had no proof, of course, but that's what prompted my mother to raise her banners against them. And that's why I'm here now, with but seven pegasi at my back.” Concluded Tempest. Desîf sat back and thought for a moment.

“I'm very glad we have precautions against that kind of mess. If any dynasty here fails, the crown reverts to the Emperor.” Stated he.

“Why him?” Asked Tempest. She didn't mention that she already been told the answer, but had forgotten years ago.

“After the last alicorns left, a little over fourteen hundred years ago, Sarathûl was ruled by Athazôs. He was the king of all eight tribes of mankind.” Now it was Turaz's turn to explain something. “But Athazôs was one man, so he crowned more kings to help him rule, and declared himself Emperor, the King of Kings. His successors did the same, and in theory, all nations are subservient to the Emperor, and are parts within the Empire as a whole. In practice, this isn't so true... The Empire hasn't had control over much in centuries. Didn't they teach you this, Tempest?”

“Perhaps.” She answered coolly. “It sounds like the same thing the alicorns were trying to do in Equestria. Create some kind of over-state that all other states would answer to.”

“Neither has worked very well.” Remarked Desîf. “Neither men nor ponies like to be ruled by a distant hand. They prefer the rulers that affect their lives far more directly.”

“Exactly.” Tempest agreed. “I feel the same way. Why answer to the Emperor when Prince Aharôs is doing far more?”

“Don't let Duke Îrilôs hear that.” Said Turaz. As if he had been summoned, the Imperial Envoy stuck his head through the tent flap.

“Don't let me hear what?”

“Nothing of importance.” Dismissed the knight, standing to bow. The secretary did the same, while Snowy inclined her head. Tempest, being a queen, did not need to show deference to the Imperial envoy.

“I've been looking all over for you, my queen. It is time for supper.” Announced Îrilôs.

“Very well.” Tempest acknowledged, and stood to leave. “Snowy, go back to our section of the camp. Sir Turaz will find his own meal.” Îrilôs led the way out, and the two went deeper into the camp, towards the large tent of Prince Aharôs. He was a light traveler, so there was little that had to be moved to make way for the large table that had been acquired from who knew where. Aharôs was talking to someone Tempest had never seen before, a plain looking man with dark brown hair.

“Ah, you've arrived.” The Prince said. “Sidâl, leave us.”

“As you wish, my prince.” The man obeyed with a bow. He walked by them, eying Tempest with something between curiosity and recognition.

“Tempest, you'll be sitting at my right. Îrilôs will be next to you.” Stated Aharôs, gesturing to the table. “And yes, we've got a plant-only meal for you.”

“Thanks.” Replied Tempest, hopping onto the chair that was hers. It could have been an awkward arrangement; Tempest was taller than the average pegasus, but still far shorter than any human, so what worked for either species didn't work for her when it came to sitting at a table. Fortunately, this was well-realized, and someone had cut down the legs of her chair to compensate for her height. Duke Îrilôs took his seat next to her.

“I take it we are waiting the Mayor?” He asked.

“Indeed. The Mayor, some of the garrison commanders, and the city council.” Said Aharôs. “Sir Turaz said it would be best if he wasn't here, apparently he got off to a bad start with Mayor Pashal. Instead we've got Sir Eberis, he'll be he shortly as well.”

One by one, the guests arrived. First was Sir Eberis, then came the council of Sturaj: various merchants, nobles, and clergy. Only then did Pashal and his two captains turn up.

“Prince Aharôs, it is good to meet you once again.” Said the Mayor, in an emotionless voice. He inclined his head, but did not fully bow. Tempest and Îrilôs glanced at each other; both were familiar with human etiquette, and realized this meal would not be a meal but a stand-off between two men who were not fond of each other.

“Likewise.” Aharôs said in return, sitting down.

“I see you have your Equestrian friend here.” Noted Pashal.

“That I do.” Stated the Prince. “Do you take offense to eating at the same table as my ward?”

“Not at all.”

“I'm glad we can all agree that the eating conditions are acceptable.” Îrilôs announced, attempting to break the icy mood that had overtaken the tent. “Shall we begin?”

“We shall.” Aharôs had servants bring in the meal of the evening. In his usual style, the food Aharôs had prepared was very simple, only steak of elk with some seasoning, and sides of a human crop known in Equestria as western redwheat. It was somewhat like the rice that came from south of Equestria, but grown in colder and drier climates. Not to mention, it's red. For Tempest, there was also redwheat, along with a wide assortment of various fruits and vegetables, some from Equestria, and some from wherever the humans had once lived. Are they from Equestria, or did the alicorns bring them from here when they first crossed over? It was a question for thinkers like Snowy, not for Tempest.

Most of the discussion was about the upcoming war; who would lead what contingents, how they would be organized, and what strategies the men should be drilled in on the way to Verâd. “I wonder,” Began the Mayor of Sturaj. “just how the Equestrians could benefit us in battle.”

“Scouting and raiding, mostly.” Replied Aharôs, as he slowly cut his meat. It was a general human custom to eat slowly, and the Prince certainly took it seriously.

“Scouting, perhaps. Raiding? I have my doubts.” Stated one of the captains, Bâlôs Eshanis.

“We're not useless.” Tempest defended herself and her kind. Captain Eshanis didn't look convinced.

“You're a four-and-a-half foot miniature zôsha that only eats plants! And you're tall for your kind!” Exclaimed the Captain. “What could you possible do to anyone?”

“Take off your head and be a hundred feet away in a matter of seconds.” Shot back Tempest. Eshanis only snorted derisively. “Is that a challenge?” She asked, leaning forward. The Captain was about to speak, but Pashal stopped him.

“Enough of this silliness.” The Mayor ordered. As the brief burst of anger subsided, Tempest wondered if she would have actually fought Eshanis. Maybe that's the key. I wasn't afraid when I was angry... If I can keep that burning long enough, I might actually be able to do what they want. But would she be able to live with whatever she did, when that anger did subside? That was the real problem.

“You two, restrain yourselves.” Aharôs stated, agreeing with Pashal. Duke Îrilôs looked mildly amused by all this.

“How are we to fight the Verâdîm if we can't even get along?” He questioned.

“Precisely.” Nodded the other captain from Sturaj, the one whose name Tempest had already forgotten.

“We're all allies here, let us focus on the enemy at hand!” Continued the Imperial Envoy.

“Yes, we're all friends.” The Mayor agreed, staring coldly at Prince Aharôs.

“No doubt.” Aharôs said, looking right back with an even colder gaze. What happened between them? Tempest wondered. “Prince Reshîv needs our aid, and we shall give it to him.” The rest of the evening was very uncomfortable, as Tempest and Îrilôs were caught in the icy crossfire between Aharôs and much of Mayor Pashal's camp. Sir Eberis was being smart and not drawing attention to himself, barely having said a word this whole time. The blue-grey pegasus almost thanked the human god when the Sturaj men left for their own camp, after deciding on a course of action. They would wait here for one week, as the Mayor finish raising an army from the city and surrounding country. By the time the munitions gear was given out, word would have been spread all along the way to Verâd that Aharôs was coming; and there would be little waiting after that. As she exited the tent with Îrilôs, they encountered the stranger from earlier.

“Good evening, my queen, my lord.” He greeted deferentially.

“Ah, it's you again, Sidâl.” Îrilôs responded. “What have you and the Prince been up to?”

“Nothing terribly concerning.” Answered Sidâl. “How was supper?”

“It could have been much worse.” The Imperial envoy sighed, folding his arms. “If there's one thing I can't stand, it's this constant infighting. We don't have time to sit here and bicker!”

“I agree completely, my lord. Something must be done.”

“We could send Mayor Pashal home.” Suggested Tempest. Îrilôs and Sidâl both laughed.

“Were it so easy, my queen.” Duke Îrilôs lamented. “I supposed I could ask God to strike down everyone who stands in our way, but that isn't something that God does. Striking down is a far more human thing, yes?”

“Human and Equestrian.” Tempest pointed out, raising a hoof.

“Of course. Good night, my queen. Until next diplomatic incident.” With that, Îrilôs left for his own tent, very close by judging by the Imperial banner waving over it. Sidâl blinked, and looked at Tempest with his head tilted.

“You look very much like your mother.” He noted quietly. Suddenly, the blue-grey pegasus was much more interested in this man than she had been before.

“You knew my mother?” She asked, slightly in awe.

“I did, Tempest.” Affirmed Sidâl. “You look just like her, except your eyes. And from what Îrilôs implied, you've got her temperament as well.”

“I don't know about that...” Tempest replied, frowning. “She was a lot braver than I am, wasn't she?”

“Braver, bolder, riskier.” The plain man nodded. “Very promiscuous as well.”

“Excuse me?” Questioned the pegasus indignantly.

“Maelstrom enjoyed a good time. Is that so shameful?” Asked back Sidâl with a shrug. “I'm only telling you what I saw, Tempest. As far as I can tell, you're very much not like her on the inside. Then again, the only stallion close to your age is old enough to be your father, and the other two are old enough to be your grandfather.” Tempest blushed at the implications, and scowled.

“No- I- It's nothing like that at all!” She stated fiercely. Sidâl raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you haven't gone through heat yet?” Suggested Sidâl. She didn't think it possible, but Tempest felt her face get even hotter.

“That- That's completely over the line!” She sputtered. “This conversation is over!” Tempest spread her wings and shot off into the air, leaving behind the human.

“You can always tell me later!” Sidâl yelled as she left.

That is not something to be talked about in public! And especially not with strangers! Tempest thought, still blushing furiously. I mean, he was correct about it, but he's got no right to bring that up! Completely over the line! After a few short minutes of reliving the embarrassment over and over, Tempest reached the Blackwind camp, slightly apart from the humans. In Equestria, they would have camped on clouds, but there was no such option in this part of the world. The alicorn magic had died here long ago, replaced by raw natural power and whatever else the humans brought. For the time, they slept in tents just like their allies.

“The indignity!” Tempest declared to Snowy, after she had landed and told of everything that had been said to her friend. “The nerve of him to ask that!”

“This Sidâl sounds like a bold fellow.” Observed the beige pegasus. “But was- was he right?” She asked, lowering her voice and leaning in.

“...Maybe.” Replied Tempest, looking away.

“Maybe?”

“Yes...” Whispered Tempest, as quietly as she could.

“Huh.” Snowy mused. “You'll be sixteen in a few months, though, so your time is near. I- I'm sure of it. Next spring at latest.”

“That's great to know. Can we please change the subject?” Begged the blue-grey pegasus.

“As you wish...”

It was a slow week for Tempest, as she practiced fighting with Turaz, Herikôs, Redfern, and Waterborn. Brenan continued Tempest's lessons, with Snowy; and even Duke Îrilôs contributed to one day's learning, when the subject of Imperial law came up. She saw Sidâl several times, but he never said anything to her, thankfully.

Finally, the day came to depart Sturaj's fields, and resume their journey to Verâd. The column followed the road by the river Aiô for another week, moving west from Sturaj and Nikadîon. Along the way, several minor lords joined with their retainers and bannermen, meager contributions as they were. As Aharôs ordered camp to be broken on the dawn of the twentieth day out from the fortress, Tempest and Snowy came upon a crossroads.

West: twenty-three miles to Vatherîon. North: One hundred and eight miles to Verâd.

Tempest stared at the sign for a moment, and then to the fork on the road. The west road continued on to the capital of Athair, the furthest she had ever been into Sarathûl. If she followed that, the river Aiô would take through the Dashavon, the low mountains that were Athair's far border, and beyond those lay an entire continent just waiting to be explored, thousands of places she only knew from the maps she spent hours pouring over. The second time in my life it's been within reach... Once, from the tallest tower in Vatherîon, she had seen the Dashavon, and the great gorge the Aiô carved through them. The rest of the world was just on the other side, over the western horizon. The pegasus sighed heavily.

She turned north; to Verâd, and to war.

Author's Notes:

Look at all that character and world development! But action is guaranteed soon, this was supposed to be three chapters originally. And yeah, 20 days passed here. 20? No Mr. Hood, you mean 18. False, human weeks are 8 days long here. Their calendar isn't Gregorian, obviously. On another subject, does anyone think a map of Sarathûl would be useful to understanding where everyone (and everypony) is going?