The Sun had set some time ago, the field just outside of the capital of the isle of Goats was eerily quiet, but that changed in mere moments. The first howl was enough to send shivers down Endymion’s spine. He looked in the direction of the howl, but there was no movement, all that was there was dark, intense, unrelenting dark. Dark that was making the night darker, dark that was devouring everything.

“They’re comin’! Get ready lads! Let’s show these wee pups the way to Tartarus!”

He had his sword, strapped to his back, his wand in his hand, and before he could say a word he felt something slam into him. It took total form, a nightmarish wolf made of smoke, dark magic, and some kind of spirit corrupting spell. Before he could say a word a bolt of energy drove the wolf off of him. He looked to see Professor Flintheart, but the older stallion didn’t have a face of worry. No, there was a hardened face of a trained warrior prepared to protect what he considered precious.

“Do not let your guard down,” he said, “I may not be there to pull out of the wolf’s mouth next time.”

“Ha! Can’t get me can you?! You bunch of daft cunts!” Rainbow shouted from above, “Here! Have a Dagger! Have three!”

There was no sound of pain, no howling anguish, only the howling hunger of the wolves. Endymion prepared a light spell, and for the first time there was pained yelping coming from the wolves themselves. Endymion almost expected them to retreat, but instead they came, full force, directly toward what had hurt them. They weren’t animals in the traditional sense, but deep down the terror wolves were still wolves. Instinct had taken over them, and instead of fleeing they were converging on the enemy that had wounded some of their own.

Fear filled his mind, despite the measures he had taken it gripped him, making him unable to cast a brighter light, and he felt the first bite as it grabbed his arm, wrenching his wand from his hand. Another latched onto his leg, his side found two, and he let loose a scream of pain. A scream that answered by a furious yell. The wolves were grabbed, physically grabbed, by Professor Flintheart. His body was easily thrice the size it had been, and his hands were glowing.

The wolves yelped in pain before he silenced them by ripping them in half, “Mr. Everfree! I trained you! Get UP AND PROVE THAT YOU CAN DO THIS! IF YOU’RE AN ADVENTURER THEN ACT LIKE IT!” Flintheart yelled as he tore through the wolves. Endymion stood, deep bites in his right arm, leg, and left side were bleeding freely, but his eyes were glowing. There was no reaching for the wand. His hand grabbed the sword, holding it high, and he looked at the damned wolves.

“Soliris” he said.

The sword turned bright, a mini sun, causing the wolves to attempt scramble away, something that Barrel Crusher, his guards, and the two native Shetland Unicorns refused to let happen. They were pulled back into the light, their bodies became solid, and they yelped in agony before the others silenced them. Shortly after Endymion collapsed. Flintheart neared him, and then grabbed his chest. The blackcloak was powerful. In truth he was certainly one of the most powerful Unicorns in all of Equestria, but his body was aging.

The spell he used, the same Jolie had perfected a couple of centuries before had strained him well beyond the breaking point. It had been a gamble he was willing to take for one of his students, and specifically for a student that showed so much potential. The both of them were gathered, Light spells were cast, and the group moved back to the castle. Once inside the two were taken directly to a stone room that had three tables on it. Endymion was laid down on his back, his pants and shirt cut from him.

“Lad, yer gonna hate me. Ta be honest, this is gonna hurt like nopony’s business, but it’s gotta be done.”

Endymion’s head was swimming, blood loss and pain made it hard to focus, “Wha… Where’s Professor Flintheart?”

“He’s bein’ see ta. Cracked horn lad, that crazy sod was ta old ta cast Jolie’s spell. Figure he must love ya like a son. Only thing makes sense ‘bout it,” Barrel Crusher said, “Get those irons over here!”

“Lad, think of yer mares,” he said before he looked away at some of his guards, “Let’s hope his magic is all used up fer now.”

Pain, burning intense pain tore through Endymion as he felt hands holding him down. He howled as the pain pulled away only to touch his leg, then his side. He sobbed as the hands finally let go, his legs pulled up to his chest, and once more he felt a hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright lad. We all been there.”

Applejack stood back, along with Rainbow Dash, and the both of them felt worried and relieved at the same time. It could have easily been either of them that could have ended up in the shape Endymion found himself. As it was Applejack suffered a single bite, one that she used some bandages on. Rainbow herself was completely untouched, or she was for the moment. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be the pony to tell Pinkie Pie that her husband got mauled by smoke wolves or whatever they were.

“AJ, Charm got some healing potions?”

She nodded, “Eeeyup, figure that Ah’m gonna as him ta come down here and use ‘em on Endymion and Flintheart.”

Rainbow breathed a sigh of relief, “Good, maybe Pinkie won’t be too upset then.”

The sound of hooves caught the two adventurers attention. They looked up to see the very object of the conversation. Pinkie looked worried, her hair a little deflated, at least until she stepped past them to see her special somepony, her husband hugging his legs to his chest. Her hair went completely flat, her beautiful blue eyes narrowed, and she walked toward him. The next thing Endymion knew there was a body behind his, soft, pleasant, and warm. It was comforting, and confining.

“Who hurt my stallion?!”

No one answered.

“I Pinkie Promise, I SUPER Pinkie Promise, that if nopony answers me then everypony that isn’t hurt on these tables is going to get my hoof up their tailhole until it comes out of their mouths! WHO HURT MY STALLION?!”

For several long seconds nopony said a word. Finally, a large barrel chested Pegasus Stallion stepped toward her.

“I had ta lassie. The damnable wolves tore inta ‘im. If’n I hadn’t sealed ‘is wounds he’d bled out by now.”

Barrel Crusher was a stallion that had seen battle. Here on the Shetlands it was something that was usually guaranteed. The wolves, and whatever the other thing was that controlled them was a little different, but not so different that it was beyond him. There was the normal dangers, the wild creatures that fed on ponies, the Sirens that lived on the small isles just beyond the line of sight on the shore lines, and of course the red caps. Most of those things stuck to the isles no pony lived on, so Barrel Crusher had a live and let live relationship with them, but this moment was something he never expected.

Somehow that pink mare was up, she stood ramrod straight, and she marched over to him. Being a Pegasus he’d heard of Earth Pony strength before, and like most Pegasi he understood that he held the advantage of being able to fly away. Strength meant precious little if the Earth Pony couldn’t catch the pony she meant to beat some sense into. The problem was that Barrel Crusher was in an enclosed place, with a low ceiling, and he was facing an angry pink Earth Pony Mare.

She snarled at him, a sound and look that were both foreign on the normally happy and hyperactive mare. Her fists were balled tightly, and before he could say a word he felt the first strike. It was almost as if someone had grabbed an anvil, rared back, and followed through with a solid strike to his muzzle. He glared at her.

“Lassie, what I did saved yer stallion!”

She glared at him, moving protectively toward her mate, settling down beside him, and never taking her eyes off of Barrel Crusher. She pulled Endymion into an embrace, and she held him. Applejack saw something she wasn’t ever sure she’d ever see. She had just seen Pinkie Pie give a pony a swat in the proper Earth Pony way. It was meant to be a corrective swat, but she put more power behind it. Swats like that were meant for something big, something so incredibly stupid that the only way to teach better was to give an extra hard nudge. It simply meant stop being an idiot.

Beside her Rainbow Dash looked at her friend and wondered exactly when it was that Pinkie Pie became so protective. In truth it reminded her a bit of some Pegasus mares. In some ways it reminded her of her own mother. Wind Whistler was a proud Pegasus, but she was also exceptionally loyal and protective over those she loved and cherished. She’d seen her lay a much larger Lunar Pegasus low because the stallion picked a fight with her father. One thing she learned about her mother was that she didn’t fight fair.

Pinkie’s actions were similar to her own mother’s, and she wondered if maybe there was some Pegasus in Pinkie’s family line. Slowly there was the sound of more hooves, and the two mares saw a third coming down the hall. She looked tired, drained, and not at all well rested. Endymion had said she suffered from magical burnout, but seeing it first hand was different than just hearing about it. Twilight’s ears lowered, nearly pinning themselves against her head as she looked in on Endymion.

Slowly Twilight moved forward, she touched Endymion, and then she looked at Pinkie. as a Unicorn she was used to words being used to convey thoughts. Slowly Pinkie had been teaching her the wordless language used between Earth Ponies. It was one that conveyed an entire letter’s worth of words into a few simple gestures. Right now Pinkie was telling her that Endymion was hurt, she was protecting him, and she expected her to help. Slowly she crawled up behind him, pulling herself up against him, and feeling the terrible warmth of the burns that had been caused in order to close the wounds, and of course the burn caused by his own massive light spell.

It was all she could do to keep from weeping. The pain Endymion was in came through his raspy sobs, and the sounds of them shook Twilight to her core. Part of her wanted to gather them all on Captain Sparrow’s ship, leave, and never set foot here again. But she knew that Endymion wouldn’t want that. Despite being in pain he wanted to protect the ponies here. He wanted to ensure their survival, and she understood all too well that meant facing the wolves again.

Outside of the door, Fluttershy stood. Her wings stood out defensively, her entire posture spoke of anger and barely contained rage. She was torn between joining her herd mates and letting loose the fury she was feeling for the injuries her stallion had endured. She finally stepped forward, moving toward the table, stopping near where Pinkie and Twilight were comforting and protecting the stallion she considered her champion. She stood hovering over Endymion’s form. The blood coursing through her head was making cogent thought difficult to achieve. Every part of her wanted to rend Barrel Crusher limb from limb if she couldn’t conjure a decent enough jinx to singe every inch of his coat. She wanted, very badly, to break every one of his pasterns so he would need to crawl every he went for a great while. It took all of her training as a Sol Priestess not to do so.

Over the hours that followed Endymion found himself in a room that was simple by nature. The stone walls were covered with some tapestries, most of which seemed to dedicated to his mother. The bed, if one could call it that, was again a simple thing. It was firm, slightly lumpy, and appeared to be the color of granite. The sheets were the same, and a faint stench rose from the fireplace. He tried to move and found that his legs both hurt terribly. Slowly he got to a sitting position. He looked toward the fireplace and saw a compressed peat moss bail burning within it.

He remembered something from Jolie’s memories, peat moss was commonly used to heat most homes since it was so readily available. The room looked familiar, and then he placed it. This was Jolie’s room, the very place he lived out the rest of his life with his herd. That meant that all of the furniture in the room had been created through Jolie’s magic. He could only assume that Jolie had used boulders to create the small creature comforts he had here. Professor Flintheart would have said that despite being a national hero Jolie was a Unicorn, and as a Unicorn he would not be without the comforts he was used to.

“Endy?”

He looked at Twilight who was studying his face. A soft smile crossed his lips and leaned toward her only to find that his skin felt painfully tight. He stopped and soon he felt her leaning against him. She gently kissed his cheek. There was no rush to express their love through a physical bound. It wasn’t that Twilight didn’t want to show Endymion how much he meant to her, but rather it was because she didn’t want to make him hurt even more.

“I’ll be okay,” he felt her lean against him, and he realized how likely it was that everything could have ended. Being with Twilight and Pinkie, adventuring, speaking to his mother, and a thousand other things could have ended in a single moment. Instead he found the inner strength he needed to come back to his wives. He realized that Jolie had been right.

“For someone so accomplished, you’d think that Jolie could have crafted a mattress that was softer than this.”

Twilight smiled, “It was the work of a trans-modification spell, and given what he most likely had to work with, I’d say he did fine.”

The bed shifted slightly, and Endymion felt a soft body beside his other side. Arms gently covered him, large soft breasts pressed against him, and he could feel the warm breath from another pony beside him. Soft lips found his cheek.

“You scared me,” Pinkie whispered.

It was odd because it didn’t quite sound like her. Normally his bride was full of mirth, energy, and bound up joy, but this time her voice sounded tired and frightened. He slowly turned his head and noticed that her mane was nearly flat. He kissed her, feeling her melting into the kiss, and feeling her squeeze him a little.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought that I understood what needed to be done, but I was wrong. Whatever those wolves are, they are generating fear, and it nearly cost me my life,” he said as he was hugged by both of them closely, “If it hadn’t been for Flintheart I think that I would have died. We’ve got to find someway to combat the fear.”

“You’re sounding surprisingly clear headed given what happened.”

He looked toward Fluttershy who stood off to the side. Part of him wanted to make her leave. In truth Endymion, nor Fluttershy, understood that what she had done would cause him to have trust issues outside of those closest to him for years to come. Her actions had carved a new line of neurosis which would plague him with every consideration of making a new friend. Such was the lasting effects of being enthralled and violated with no will to combat it.

Still There was another part of Endymion that didn’t simply want to send her out and on her way. Another part wanted to feel alive, to surround himself with life, to feel the warmth of bodies, to hear the giggling of the mares he loved, to hear the sounds of flesh slapping, and to smell the wonderful aroma that accompanied rutting like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to drink strong ale, or mead, to eat something hot, and engage in all manner of activities that simply went with being alive.

But regardless of his want and need there was the fact that his entire body ached beyond what he had felt before. He glanced down at his legs and he realized that the wolves had not merely bitten him, but rather they had taken chunks of muscle and skin with them. His arm, his right arm, it felt off. Gently he moved, and Twilight let him move his arm toward him. He had assumed that the wolves that bit his arm had merely bit down, but now looking at his arm he saw that his hand was missing fingers, and actually part of the hand itself was gone.

What was left was scarred and puckered flesh that still looked angry from being burnt together. He felt the arms of Pinkie tightening on him.

“It doesn’t matter to me Endy,” she said in a whisper, “You’re alive, and that’s all that I care about. I’m just glad that I get to keep you.”

Seeing Fluttershy standing there, waiting, not daring to get any closer, but at the same time wishing beyond hope that she would be invited into this intimate moment Twilight sighed. Fluttershy was one of her best friends. At the same time she’d hurt Endymion terribly. She couldn’t quite understand all of it, but she did realize that what Fluttershy had done went against everything she believed in using magic on another pony.

She glanced at Endymion and saw no hate or malice in his eyes. He was certainly distrustful, and for good reason, but there was no hate there. Seeing that she gently nudged him. He glanced at her, then back at Fluttershy, and finally he nodded. The Priestess moved silently toward him; she didn’t disrobe, but instead she took a seat near his side, her wing stretching out, covering his back.

“Endy, You need something physical to take with you.”

He looked at Twilight who seemed to be focused, “That’s what Jolie had done. He took a physical representation of the love he had for his brides. You need to do the same.”

He nodded, and then looked at the bits missing from him, “Yes, but I want more than that. I need something to protect me. Something that will keep the wolves from getting inside. Something that won’t let them get through my defenses.”

Pinkie kissed his neck, “Mama always said the simplest answer was usually the best. So why not make some armor?”

The answer was simple enough. Armor would be a benefit, especially if he could manage to enchant it. He needed to make it capable of keeping the wolves out, and at the same time he needed to ensure that he would be protected from the fear that was leaching energy from every single pony on these islands. He already knew that Professor Flintheart would most likely be unable to help. A cracked horn took time to recover from.

That was time that he understood that these ponies didn’t have. Still, when he went to move he hurt. His entire body felt tight. He could feel the burns, the bites, but somehow his mind was sharp. He seemed more focused than he had been before. Perhaps that was do to nearly dying. He recalled some of Jolie’s memories stating that the pathway to finishing the task had come to in a moment of clarity after the wolves’ attack that had nearly taken him. It would only make sense that facing a near death experience would allow somepony to see things a bit clearer than before.

Since enchanting and making armor seemed to be the most obvious answer he knew the next steps. Study, something he wasn’t often known for, and finding a decent blacksmith. The second part seemed far easier. Being as rural and out of way as the Shetland Isles were he was fairly certain that he could find a blacksmith. Part of him wondered if perhaps Barrel Crusher had one stationed inside of the castle itself. It would certainly make some serious sense if he did.

It was a place to start, if nothing else. With each step he found himself in more and more pain. It felt as if his very skin was going to rip open where Barrel Crusher had cauterized it. His movement, and pain, gained the attention of his bride, and soon he felt himself leaning on her as she helped him. He almost said something until he saw the concern in her blue eyes. Almost as if she had read his mind they left the room, and somehow Pinkie seemed to know the layout of the castle itself. A walk that couldn’t have been more than a few minutes seemed to take hours, but in the end he looking at an Earth Pony that dwarfed even Big MacIntosh.

The Earth Pony was working on a Forge, obviously making weapons when he saw the two enter. He stopped for a moment, placing his large hammer on the ground, and then looked questioningly at them. His eyes roamed the mangled and maimed human, trying to discern just what he was looking at. Then his attention was drawn to Pinkie Pie, where his gaze was more lascivious. The blacksmith roved over the salmon colored mare, going up, then down, then up again, before he spoke.

“Aye, ennythin’ we cen do for ya, lass?”

“It’s not for me,” Pinkie stated, with more force and authority than anypony had ever heard her use, “it’s for him.”

“Wha? That runt o’ a min’taur??” The blacksmith said, “Dunno why ya’d wanna. He’s lookin’ rather mangey as o’ late…”

“Now you listen here, Bucko,” Pinkie growled, producing a dagger from her mane and jabbing it under the blacksmith’s jaw, “we didn’t come here for your sass or your prejudices. We need some armor, for our stallion, and if you aren’t willing to make it, then we can take our business elsewhere. Of course, that will be after we teach you some manners.”

“Calm yerself lass. Ah wouldna turn away a customer, and especially one Barrel Crusher had set with him in court. Dunne think I’d have his lass tryin’ ta teach me ta watch ma tongue. Now, fer armor Ah can make sturdy armor, but Lad, ya gonna be able to actually wear it?”

“If I have to prop myself up with winches and crutches,” Endymion wheezed, “I’ll manage.”

“And he won’t be alone,” spoke Twilight bringing up the rear, “he’ll have his mares with him. Am I right, Pinkie?”

Said mare nodded, still keeping the dagger point stuck in the jaw of the blacksmith, but easing the pressure a little, “Faust right, we are!”

“Um, excuse me?” Fluttershy said softly, “If it’s not too much trouble, could I- Could I come, too? I know I’ve caused no small end of trouble but- It wouldn’t be right if we let The Prince go against those- things a second time without all us there to assist? Right?”

Pinkie and Twilight glared daggers at the Solar Priestess; the timid Pegasus shied away from their gaze as much as she could behind the curtain of her mane. Even so, she saw a look cross over Endymion’s face, one that spoke of admiration, of questioning. She thought that maybe he was going to reject the offer, knowing how his two legitimate brides felt about the herd wrecking mare. Then his visage softened as he spoke.

“Twilight, Pinkie, there will be time enough for recriminations later. If she’s willing to lend a hand, then far it be for me to refuse it. Faust only knows I need all the help I can get. Zacherle save us if we fail…”

“Wowie-zowie, Endy,” Pinkie breathed, “you not only invoked The Goddess, you invoked The Über Goddess!”

“I didn’t know anypony still believed in The Zacherle…” Twilight awed.

“Mother told me about Her,” Endymion said, “she told me that she and Aunt Tia saw her once, in The Long Ago. The Zacherle was the one that gave them their names, foretold told them of their purpose.”

“So it’s all true?” Fluttershy asked.

Endymion nodded, adding, “Yea, verily, and The Faust is real as well. I’ve seen her, with my own two eyes…”

Pinkie wasn’t the only one that felt the sadness that passed over Endymion’s frame when he said that. She was the one closest enough to offer him a hug, though.

“Can we just get to forging some armor, please?” The Prince croaked, “Talking about The Faust is- hard for me.”

“Aye, lad, aye,” the blacksmith said, looking upon the most unusual herd his eyes had ever laid upon, “let me get me tools t’gether and we can fix ye right up,” then in a whisper, “S’pris’d he didn’t invoke Th’ Meghan, either…”

The Blacksmith was a true master if his craft, and that was obvious as he began the work on the first of the plates for the armor. It wasn’t at all what any of them would have expected. It was lighter than Endymion imagined, but when he felt it he could feel something different about it. It felt stronger than it had any right to be. And unlike the guard armor he’d seen for most of his The blacksmith wiped his brow and Endymion noticed the small horn. The smith was a Unicorn, and it was obvious that he was enchanting the armor plates with his own magic. It was something that Endymion had planned to do himself, but there was more than that. The wolves were creatures of shadow, and he planned on infusing the armor with shadow. It was magic that few were privileged enough to know, and his saving grace was that his mother had shown him how to remove shadow and work with it. It had to be living shadow, shadow created by a being of shadow, and that meant finding a lunar pegasus. He wished that Stella was here. There was no question that she would willingly allow him to draw some of her essence from her being and place it into the armor. She might view it as being able to kick the wolves arses herself in some fashion.

Unfortunately she was home, and that a couple of lunar pegasi that he’d seen here. One of which was a guard for the castle. The mare was grizzled, obviously she had been tested and she had more than proved her worth. He hoped that she would be willing, because the other option was a young filly, and he felt wrong asking a young filly to do something that would be basically like removing a bit of her life essence, but if there was no other way he’d end up doing it. The other thing he considered was even trickier. It was something he’d need to talk to Rarity about. He knew about self repairing enchantments, but he didn’t know any that would do what he wanted to do. He needed to cast an enchantment that would cause the metal to bend back into shape, that would keep it from breaking, and that meant somepony that worked with those kinds of enchantments all of the time.

He was thankful she was with them. If she was willing then it would be far easier. Of course he figured that she would be willing to do so. That left the last part that he would have to do completely on his own. He needed to cast a feather light cantrip, a self propelled, Magical hardness, and possibly a strength enhancement series of enchantments on the armor. It would mean delicate layering, and he could only pray that he could get it right. Professor Flintheart had shown him before how to do it, but his magic wasn’t known for being delicate. Still, it was better than the alternative.

He watched as the smith began making the armor in earnest, and as he worked Endymion wished that either Professor Flintheart was here or Twilight wasn’t still recovering from her burnout so she was able to help him with what he planned on doing next. Hours began to pass, and after explaining what he planned to do to both Applejack and Dash he found that the two of them agreed to go and get Rarity for him. When they returned he was surprised to see Rarity and Trixie. They explained that they had spoken with Princess Celestia, but she was currently with Professor Flintheart. she wouldn’t leave him, but she instead suggested Ms. Lulamoon because of her being a blackcoat. Trixie studied the armor, and she looked at Endymion. She had learned what was planned from both Applejack and Dash, and she understood how difficult what Endymion was planning on doing would be.

Endymion studied Trixie for a moment before the Azure mare grinned, “The Great and Powerful Trixie will help cast these enchantments!”

He groaned, knowing that there was every chance Trixie wouldn’t know how to cast the enchantments he needed to cast. Then again if she could actually help he could deal with her boasting. It would be a small price to pay. He looked at her, grabbed his wand, and together they began. First he began with the first layer, giving the armor an unnatural hardness that would break most weapons that struck it. To his surprise Trixie cast a Kinetic repel enchantment. He knew the spell, and as a defensive one it was actually quite powerful. He then attempted to layer a feather weight cantrip, and finally she cast the self propelling enchantment, but he noticed that she gave it the command to obey the wearer’s movements and orders. It was something he had forgotten. When they were finished both of them looked exhausted.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie needs to be fed, and sleep… she said as she managed to continue to stand.

“Trixie, I must admit that you are more skilled than I gave you credit for,” Rarity stated as she moved toward the armor. Her self repairing enchantment was as flawless and beautiful as herself. She smiled, and then wove another small enchantment. Endymion didn’t realize it, but the enchantment she wove as well would allow the cutie marks of those closest to him to appear on the shoulders of the armor. As she finished Trixie looked at the armor, moved forward, and her horn glowed as she cast a final enchantment. Endymion knew this well enough. It was an illusion, and specifically it would make those facing the suit of armor as an enemy see a giant dragon there before them.

The group, and the blacksmith, moved the armor from the Smith’s shop to the library in the castle. On the way Endymion spoke to the lunar pegasus. She nodded, followed, and offered to allow him to take a small snip of her shadow essence. Once he did he infused the armor with it turning it into a dark as midnight suit of armor. It seemed to blend in with the shadows of the room perfectly. And of course he found himself starving. Pinkie, being the loving mare she was kissed his cheek and moved on ahead to the Kitchens.