The Former Counsel of Noriphmy
In the days that had passed a lot had happened. The streets had been closed for the majority of the new day of the final siege on Noriphmy but only having them open for only a short amount of time to let the citizens run home. The royal guard had been processed one at a time leading them from their cells to be evaluated by Quariomy herself. She judged them by their skill, purpose and intent and after all had been processed she found the royal guard to be absolutely terrible, under-trained and utterly lackluster in their duties.

Most hardly had formal training, some were corrupted and the rest just couldn’t amount to expectations and standards of the warriors of Istudious. That being said the royal guard couldn’t be wholly reformed. There were no executions only a few were imprisoned for over abuse in power and the rest were let go. However all that had been pardoned were offered a place in the ranks of her army where they would receive formal training, great respect and a new sense of ideals joining in what she called, “the new kingdom of Carridian.”

With this there was a divide between the former guards of Noriphmy and even though some sided with her the others refused and left quietly soon after.

Tensions were high, as one could imagine, and the warriors who dutifully occupied streets of the capital, although docile, didn’t help to ease that stress much either. There was a lot of talk about uprising and the odds seemed great. Three thousand warriors spread thin and sparse amongst the nation with more than one million citizens strong. However this was mostly talk about while within taverns and feverishly drunk while warriors, too, laughed along to their propositions. Still if citizens were laughing about uprising it wouldn’t be long before such fantasies became reality.

To help deter this she set about arresting each and every council member of the old kingdom. This would take time as they all went into hiding during the initial takeover, but even after a day of search and arrests, and with help of the already acquainted former royal guards members, they had already found and captured more than half. Not only the royal guard but they also managed to capture and arrest four fifths of a whole team of three.

They, for now, were thrown and kept in the cells of the Magnoliven Estoc while Quariomy insisted none of the council members would be judged and processed until each and every last one had been arrested.

As the search and questioning continued, Quariomy set to funding the trade embargoes while also reinforcing certain convoys with a few warriors of her very own to protect against the bandits of the lost houses of Noriphmy. This was a major decision as during the march on Noriphmy trade had been critically cut off crippling parts of the national economy. Because of this common foods items increased in price as well as wood, cloth, metals and other assorted materials.

This decision to fund the trade embargoes meant that they could sell items for a much lower fee meaning trade would flourish once again, and the villages affected by the ramification prior would recover much more quickly.

The mining villages where another issue as they were promised a portion of the treasury for their output in specialized rails and unique machinery parts. This she followed through on although her promise would be fulfilled by only ten percent every month until the debt was paid in full. She wouldn’t start to see the tracks made for her until weeks later when certain trade convoys returned, but until then all she could continue to do was further her preparations.

With corruption gone and the economy on its way to recovery every citizen started taking to Quariomy a lot better than they had before. This was good however large franchises of Noriphmy began to destabilize. This was because the council members, as one could imagine, were of great nobility and owned and directed most of them.

She had no substitutes in mind and every council member having been chained and accounted for, Quariomy finds herself awaiting the arrival of the former counsel now chained and bound by the hooves and with the threat of nationwide collapse she intended to make this fast.

Horace escorted them in along with a collection of four other warriors. As they marched them through the great doors of the castle courtroom. Raising their heads they come to see the sights they’ve all known before.

The floors where both wood lined with finely smoothen oak which encased solid tiles made of granite. The hall faced north with windows looking out westward to the capital just below. Only two high standing pillars held the roof aloft, both centered near the respective center of the room leaving much room to the ponies who often times occupied the flooring.

The aforementioned occupants were a small number of advisers who knew better about Noriphmy then Quariomy as well as a few messenger celestials and eight warriors set to guard. Two of which were Noriphmians.

Above the roof held rafters that stretched along the length of the room holding pedestals for Celestials to mount themselves atop to keep watch. Most were vacated as only four were needed and like the warriors below they too kept watch with spring-ready, clawed gauntlets equipped and prepped for use. From above they could see everything save it for the throne itself as it was well hidden by a pillar that hung low blocking the line of sight from any would-be assassins above.

On this throne is where Quariomy sat just like she did in Istudious. Tall, proud and exceptionally ready for any report read from a piece of parchment, or in this case the council members of the old kingdom.

Shuffling them in one at a time they numbered twenty four in total. Sixteen male the rest female. They stood in formation with three rows of eight in no particular order. Horace relieved himself of his given duty and approached Quariomy and took his place at her side.

“The council members of Noriphmy,” he said to nopony but her. “Just as you asked.”

“Thank you Horace,” she genuinely complimented. “Please, stand by as I deal with them.”

Just as she asked he made his way over to her, walking up the steps to the throne. “Quariomy?” he silently asked only after taking his place next to her. “May I speak to you privately after this whole affair?”

She nodded, “Only after General. For now, stay by me if you will and conduct this trial.” He answered the same way he always did and stood tall next to her as she examined the prisoners that stood nervously before her.

“Yes my Princess.” Raising his voice he spoke clearly drawing their attention, “ponies of Istudious, former council of Noriphmy and of the old kingdom of Carridian. You find yourself here on account of affiliation but most importantly, corruption.” In a quieter tone he asked Quariomy, “Shall I list the charges?”

“Of course,” she answered.

Drawing on his excellent memory he took a deep breath and announced, “For those under corruption they are: political corruption, tax evasion, discreet money proliferation, suspected blackmail amongst yourselves as well as extortion. Contracted larceny, contracted arson and contracted murder. Those mentioned also coincides with affiliation and employment of criminal groups within and outside of the capital of Noriphmy.”

As Quariomy looked over them most avoided her gaze as they did their best not to do anything that would set her off on them since she had the power to have them executed on the spot. It was a probability but something most of them thought was inevitable. Still, those with nothing to fear worried they might be prosecuted falsely though there was only three of the twenty four not entirely guilty.

“With that being said,” he continued. “To list a few details on your operations you campaigned for a false sense of resource scarcity. That goes for wood, food, stone, metals and other assorted goods. Another entity to be mentioned would be the false proclamations of a depleted national treasury. As an effect certain prices raised. The price of gold and other rare metals rose and you arresting any pony who knew better and could see past this elaborate scheme.” Looking over them once more he asked, “Would any one of you entirely deny these claims already mentioned?” None of them bothered. Horace nodded and said, “The princess will administer the consequences to those who are guilty. Any here by affiliation and nothing more may have nothing to fear.”

Quariomy then stood as soon as he finished and as the celestials kept watch from above and the warriors below, she slowly descended the stairs with armor equipped and swords at her side. “You three,” she said vaguely gesturing to them in particular. “Stand apart as I’m sure you know who you are.” At her command three ponies, a stallion and two mares, slowly shuffled away from the group standing on either side. Looking to them she announced, “you three are free of these claims. There for you will find your place within the reformed council of the new kingdom of Carridian.”

They were grateful for having been recognized so suddenly and as they continuously thanked her, two warriors unchained their hooves setting them free.

“Take your leave and come again at dawn.”

After their chains fell to the floor they eagerly thanked her before exiting the doorway to the hall. Now all who remained were guilty and all they could do was wait for Quariomy to sentence them to whatever punishment she seemed fit. Death was a popular opinion amongst the corrupted counsel but they couldn't say for certain, at least not until the princess herself said otherwise.

Giving them all one last she said, “It seems we meet here today with unsavory circumstances. I as a princess would have loved to integrate you all into the new council of Noriphmy but having heard all these things based on corruption, I as a princess with an image to uphold in this foreign nation, can’t simply allow all these transgressions to go unpunished with swift and harsh cruelty.”

Making her way down the stairs she began to advance on them, slowly but evenly and confidently.

“The lot of you seem to be contemplating death, and I’ll assure, you all easily surpass such notions. A lasting, lingering death still wouldn’t suffice in my eyes. However it seems you all have families with children and wives or husbands you love dearly. This is touching but also disgusting given the things you allowed to go on in the night hours of Noriphmy. Death is too good for you, so now let me make your punishment very clear...”

She allowed herself to fall silent letting the anxiety and the tension in the hall build up. The warriors could feel it and they looked on with amusement, the council dreaded it and rightfully so.

“...each and every one of you will submit your place of living to the government, you will also forfeit your land, servants and personal belongings as well as your finances. All your money belongs to Noriphmy as well as your services. You will be moved to the outer districts beyond the wall and you’ll only be allotted the necessities for taking care of your family if you do have one. Your spouse won't suffer mortally, same for your children as they shouldn’t share in this punishment. However, the stallions of the former counsel shall after this night proclaim themselves as Gelding for the rest of their days.”

Immediately after this was said there was a few outburst from the former counsel of noriphmy, most of which had gasped saying, ‘no,’ while others begged her to reconsider. The warriors tentatively advanced drawing their swords and they immediately silenced themselves.

“Mares,” she continued. “Smile not for this night and the following night of the next week and weeks to come you will find yourself at the barracks of the warriors of Istudious. They will have their way with you and you will give them your consent until you bare a yewling foal of Istudious. You will mother this foal and you will care for this foal within your family already established. When he comes of age many years later he will submit himself to the armies of Istudious and this illegitimate child of a yewl will succeed your family and find a proper and honorable place within the new kingdom of Carridian.”

The mares now had their objections although most said so through fearful sobs and tears. Quariomy however wouldn’t give them the sympathy as she raised a hoof saying, “yes, this seems unfairly cruel and you all wonder why I don’t mount your head on a pike, no?”

It was a rhetorical question but still a stallion had the gall to object saying, “why not? You’ve taken away my home, my earnings, my place in this nation and my pride! Why not just put me down like an unwanted stray in the streets.”

This outburst should have been met with a savage beating but Quariomy actually seemed a little entertained at his defiance. With a little kick in her step she leaped forward from the bottom step and said, “oh because my noble, honest, well intentioned stallion. I find life can easily be your living demise.”

Stepping to the center of the hall she enacted her will of control by raising the stone table that secretly lied within the ground. It was an immensely heavy object that stretched most of the way through the hall stopping just short of the stairs to the throne and the threshold to the exit. It was smoothen to a shine and something that required multiple royal guards members just to life but something Quariomy found no problem in lifting even while atop it. The warriors were impressed and the prisoners had all the more reason to fear her.

Not even at a loss for breath she ringed, “Isn’t just fascinating to see the living writhe in agony beneath their own skin even as they live comfortably? Be it anxiety and fear or loss of will and with no control over destiny? Preferably your own.” Dancing to the end of the table Quariomy stood above them and sang as she pointed, “I control you. I control you, you and you. I control all of you. I control my army, this nation and its citizens. They fall before me and the same will be for you. Come again tomorrow. You have a nation to uphold and I won't let it fall to chaos because of your absence.”

“Come again?” cried a different stallion. “W-with all these punishments you want us to come again?”

With a smile she turned and answered, “Why yes. You should feel blessed to be graced by the princess and granted a seat within the reformed council of Noriphmy. Take it as this... what once were the bones of your glory will now be the bones of your punishment. Break them not for if you do it's the loved of yourselves who will pay.” Turning away satisfied with herself she let out one last remark speaking clearly for all to hear, “This time in death.”

The Wake of Conquest
Two figures walked by each side, one winged, the other catalysed. The day was clear by night was falling swiftly as they followed trails of the beaten grass that roughly followed alongside the dirt, muddied road that ironically was worse suited for travel. Adridge and Lindestic had been biding their time as they easily, but slowly made their way eastwards in the direction the Istudians traveled before. Neither of them spoke much unless it was to say there was a little dip in the terrain, thick bushes ahead or just needed to adjust their course. However they were few and far between.

Now as they traveled the sun fell behind them stretching their shadows for what seemed like miles they laid eyes on a light source far off in the distance. Without a word between one another they adjusted their direction and began making their way towards it.

It could have been a household, it could have been the army camps of Istudious.

If it was the latter then they would have seen celestials high above with armor and claws glistening in the moonlight but they did not. Instead it was the former, something they found out only after having traveled through beaten grasslands blazed by a muddied trail and wheel tracks of the canons whose weight cut through the course landscape.

Where the trails had ended wheat fields began, although harvested and bear. The mud they had grown from was now pockmarked with gauntleted hoof steps all round leading up to a clearing in the center of the fields with wooden house standing off around the perimeter with a stallion, seemingly old, looking out to them as he layed on the on the rough pine wooden porch.

The light they had previously seen wasn’t from a fire but instead the catalyst of a crying mother holding her son. Cut across the neck and stabbed in the back the mother refused to let go only continuing to weep for him as he layed in his leather bound armor with a sturdy low line sword lying at his side buried in the dirt and the blood of himself.

Adridge knew that they should've moved on, however the stallion beckoned to them from where he laid. They were guest on his land so it was only polite to do as he asked.

“A fighter?” he muttered as they came to and stood just below him in the dirt. “Or perhaps another warrior who fell behind. You don’t dawn the armor of the Istudians so perhaps the former.” He coughed into his hoof looking past them to the two in the field.

She looked back to them again and quietly and politely asked, “the Istudians did him in, no?”

The stallion let out a tired withered sigh and said, “the Istudians, yes. My son,” he weakly moaned. “I married well you see. An earth pony biding his days with a unicorn. I was blessed to have been so fortunate. Even more so when my first son, my only son, bore a catalyst as well.”

Another fit of coughing all the while the mother continued to mourn refusing to release him, refusing to believe that he could really be gone as she continuously poured her light magic into his wounds hoping that what had already been taken, broken and lost could somehow be given back whole again.

“He grew bravely you see,” the old stallion began again. “He fought against the houses, defended our land, all the while never ceasing to work hard and long through out the blisteringly hot days along side her and me. Me,” he scoffed pointing to himself. “A useless old earth pony. Good for nothing more than tilling the fields and driving the jagged teeth of saws in between the bark of wooden trees.”

The situation was grim, there was nothing much to be said as any attempt at compassion and understanding felt it would only come up short and mediocre. Still Adridge could take solace in the fact that his death was out of her control and only a cause of the wake of conquest the Istudians now proceeded. The same feelings couldn’t be said for the stallion or mother of the brave fighter, the ones who suffered this loss.

While Lindestic silently waited alongside Adridge the stallion continued, “you see there lies true bravery.” He pointed at the two. “Laying dead in the dirt and already forgotten. The son I love and caried for. The one I raised and taught to live. The one who fought for us when I certainly couldn’t. A loss like this way's heavy on me but a pillar, as I am and will be, mustn’t fall as it is the only thing she will have left to fall on. However a pillars only as reliable as the foundation it lays upon and in my state I’m not so certain anymore. It was a good harvest,” he said raising his hoof to a sizable cart loaded with bales of wheat. “A good sum to be sold, but again.” He coughed. “I’m ill and unfit for such a task.” With a tired sigh and a shake of his head he said, “I-I’m not asking for pity, in fact as stubborn as I am I downright refuse but, not for me and instead for her, could I employ thee? From one town to the next, I need your help, please.”

Adridge was caught off guard by his sudden request and wasn’t sure how to answer. Honestly she didn’t have time for any of this, she wanted her cape back among everything else. She needed to find Igneous and talking with a sad mournful father of a fighter wasn’t helping her in succeeding either of the mentioned. It was only when Lindestic tapped her on the shoulder did she turned as he whispered, “if we take the offer we become traders.”

She nodded, “yes traders, but how will that help us or Igneous?”

“If we become traders we can get close to the Istudian armies,” he answered.

It was true. They were behind advancing enemy lines. Every trader who had heard of the news of the conquesting army would have fled, possibly all the way back to the capital and if not then they would have retreated to their families in these dire times. This was an opportunity amidst opposition and even though this father and mother had just suffered a great loss there was nothing else the falconers could do. Taking the offer, if anything else, would benefit them all although nothing would mend the wound inflicted today. This was something even the father knew and understood.

Turning to him she nodded and answered, “We’ll do it.”

The stallion then looked to her, this time, a bit doubtfully and asked, “Forgive me for looking twice but if I may; how old are you?”

Confidently she answered, “Old enough.” With Lindestic following closely behind they began making their way to the cart intent on seeing this deal through.

As they did the stallion decided not to dwell on her comment, instead he sullenly nodded saying, “I can only grace you with twenty percent of the total earnings. Its an honest sacrifice for us.”

“We’re falconers,” she said keeping her pace. “Payment isn’t an issue.”

Forger Frawl
On this day one warriors found himself wandering the streets of the capital as he went about collecting information on every financial entity within the capital. Although he would have preferred to be doing something more involved like guarding around or enforcing the canons he still had a duty to uphold and commands to fulfill.

So with two warriors at his side, a longbow and quiver over his back, a buckler shield and straight sword hanging at his flanks, they walked down streets of the mid to upper regions of the capital on the northern end of the city.

With nothing but a list of addresses in his magical grip they stopped at an alleyway with a sign above that said, “Frawlen Weapon Smith-n-Forgen.” Apparently it was the last one they had to process and nodding to his pears, they ventured in coming to a wooden door at the end. With a hard concise three knocks he backed away and they waited politely.

Within the building there was a sudden jolt, followed by a hefty grunt of exertion. With uneven, stumbling hoofsteps approaching, the warriors backed away slightly out of caution. A heavy thump came upon the door followed by the mumbles of an older figure, “Taffing Door! WHAT!!!” He shouted throwing it open to the armored, waiting guests just.

At first sight they could tell he was very well drunk with bit of a ragged mane as well as some splotched fur textures around his face. He laid his eyes on the warriors and in doing so he seemed to sober up just a bit mumbling, “Oh, the warriors of Istudious. My new overlords, no?”

“I ask of your name,” the first one announced. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he argued. “You think me a RaeRay? I wouldn’t let my own mother into this shop without first knowing her name.”

With that parcel of broken logic they concluded that he indeed was very well drunk. “Yoshkir. Your name?” he asked again.

With one final suspiciously doubtful scan he answered, “It says on the sign. My names Frawl.” Moving aside he allowed them to enter as he said, “That's Frawl the weapons, armor, shielding and metal smith. ‘Frawl the Forger’ to be concise.”

Entering in they could see that the building was expansive. Its ground level held an assortment of crates, workbenches, a metal smelting oven, grinding stones weapon racks, weapon prints and general tools to do the job one would expect a forger to do. The floor was mostly lined with stitched smooth cut stone with some harden leather skins having been placed under points of interests around certain machines that would kick up a few sparks.

Looking up their attention was drawn to a high suspended chandelier made up of shields of all makes and colors as well as a diverse collection of swords. However looking at the quality of the ones that hung there one could guess they were the failings of the forger himself turned into something more useful and sentimental.

Closely surrounding the chandelier was a balcony underlined with metal and overlined and mostly made up of wood. There were no visible stars so there must have been a stair well some were and also they noticed that the second level was at ground level with the streets above them. Since they had to enter in through the alleyway they could guess that the true guest entrance was above.

Yoshkir nodded his head taking in the place. “I see you're well practiced in your work.”

“More so than most, however I wouldn’t boast to say all.” He kicked aside some stray metal bars leading them towards the center. Gesturing with a hoof all around, he stated, “well here you have it. Now why are you in my company? Commissions are closed due to the new monarchy.” Taking a discarded glass bottle in his magical grip he mumbled, “It's a good time to be drunk and careless.”

“Greatest of respects to your work,” Yoshkir said as his two companions took the time to idly saunter around eying particular pieces of Frawls work. One that caught the warriors attention was a model of the four legs of a pony. A replica Frawl forged for a particular pegasus stricken by illness in her early childhood causing her to lose her lower four legs. He continued, “...but we are not here to request a weapon. We are here to ask about your work in general.”

He let the bottle down swallowing the last gulps and asked, “Details please? I’m a humble forger but I won’t put forth the effort to infer upon the simple and conciseness of your statement.”

Yoshkir sighed. “Money. How much are you making monthly?” he asked handing him dried printed paper with questioning outputs as well as informational input. “What are your expenses, are you funded by the capital, where does your main source of revenue come from and how is your living?”

Yoshkir handed it off from his magical grip but Frawl hadn't taken it in his letting it drop to the floor. “I’m funded by the castle to afford the supplies as well as custom commodities to accommodate extensive, unique, specialized and exotic orders. The revenue I make comes from the completion of orders and the grants from the castle are reimbursed by me if I find myself at a surplus and un-needy. As for my living, I find myself living rather finely,” he finished. “Thanks for asking.”

Placing the glass down he picked up hammer lying near on an anvil. Pulling on a rod sticking from within the mouth of a burning furnace he salvaged a piece of metal in the rough shape of a face mask, mounted it on the pointed end of the anvil and began hammering it to its preferred curvature.

“Now I may not be taking commissions,” he began as he worked the metal over. “But there is still work to be had. I would appreciate it if you withhold from working me anymore with some formality statement.”

Yoshkirs gaze shifted away as the loudened hammer impacts filled the building. He gased at one of the four walls that held armor of different types, most incomplete, some awaiting parts but setting his eyes on a particularly mounted peace he turned and asked, “How are your relations with falconers?”

The echoing hammer stopped and as all three warriors faced the forger he held the steaming hot faceplate to his face testing out the visors visibility. “Falconers?” he repeated. “I’ve done my part to assist them.” Satisfied in the visors quality he took it in his magical grip and dumped it in a vat of oil. “Not many other forgers are willing to work for a generous cause. Honestly it's a true shame, they deserve more.”

“How many suits do you manufacture for them?”

“None,” he answered. “I do repair and maintenance on eartheneiring suits. Those cogs are complicated,” he said as he withdrew the now cooled hardened visor and placed it on stone made work bench topped with other assorted projects that stretched down the length of the wall. “However yes, I do have control over second party production of the suits.”

“Where are they made?” Yoshkir asked.

He was about to answer when instead he threw his bottle across the room and shouted, “Mind your manners while in my keep!” It shattered against the room near the head of a warrior with his curious hoof on the handle of a door. “There will be no snooping around in my company.” The warrior gave Frawl a strikingly offended sneer but Yoshkir insisted he stayed well tempered. With an annoyed sigh Frawl answered Yoshkir's question saying, “The suits are mainly made in a shack up at safeguard in the regular confinement district. Above ground that is.”

“Well given our brief history with ‘falconers’ it is with word of Princess Quariomy that you command them to stop producing earthenearing suits.”

“Fine,” he mumbled. “As for my funding, will I be at a loss given the new monarch?”

Picking up the previously dropped piece of paper in his magical grip Yoshkir pressed it against Frawls chest and said, “take to the formality and the princess will decide.”

Doing a quick once over the parchemnt he set it aside and said, “I’ll have my apprentice tend to it.”

As Yoshkir waved his hoof signaling for the others to leave with him he took one last look around the place and nodded in approval. “Your work is fine. Perhaps you can adapt and produce armor and weaponry for the Istudian armies. We’ll pay finely it's all the more convincing.”

“Tempting,” he muttered glancing only through the sides of his eyes. “Only tempting.”

“Good day to you.”

“That's an excellent longbow warrior,” he called out just as Yoshkir was the last to leave.

He stopped in the doorway, looked to his longbow and back to Frawl and his sudden compliment. “Yes,” he said. “Nearly scored two fighters with it.”

As Yoshkir disappeared Frawl took another bored and tired breath muttering, “Can only guess,” and the forger went back to work awaiting the return of his apprentice.

The Request
“A pleasant night,” Quariomy sighed as Horace escorted her down the halls of the castle. After the council had been dealt with Quariomy set out to organise tomorrow's event involving the Magnoliven Estoc. With advisors and ponies more acquainted with such a task assisting her every whim it wasn’t long before everything was arranged and done ready to be showcased tomorrow afternoon to audience both near and far beyond the walls.

Not only where the plans set for tomorrow but also most of the days to come with little relief. She needed to forge a more firm image of herself and what better way to do it then with the entertainment of the masses looking on as the battles commenced in the Estoc arena.

The entry fee was almost non existent as it was so low one would think to not charge at all. This was because of the liberated riches of the council, and by this it made every event planned possible and readily available to the masses.

“A productive day indeed,” Horace affirmed. He had held a thought in mind most days and earlier he had asked to speak to Quariomy privately.

For now he could only hope she remembered as he and his loyalty thought it would be exceptionally rude to remind her of his request as he always held in mind one motto, ‘if the princess didn’t care to remember then your problem wasn’t worth a second thought.’ Something he wish didn’t hold true for him, but with each passing step that drew them closer to her bedchamber his hopes were beginning to dwindle significantly.

However the time passed and the distance closed and now here he was at the threshold to her chamber awaiting the command to be off to other duties. “Thank you Horace,” she said with a smile. The same smile she always gave. “The days are long and the duty is hard. You may have your rest, there’s nothing more I ask of you.”

“M-my princess,” he cautiously ventured. She stopped her advancement into the room and slowly withdrew to meet the attention of the general. He wouldn’t ask her or remind her directly of his request to speak to her privately, oh no. instead he asked, “a second thought will you? Are you certain no other thing are required of me?” She nodded but it wasn’t what he wanted. He coughed and through it he silently muttered, “or you?”

It wasn’t very subtle and although she had been looking him in the eyes earlier this time Horace actually felt her gaze. He knew the all too familiar sensation and his firm stance lessened as he knew his motives were found out. “I’m sorry my Princess. I-I shouldn’t have.” he guiltily whispered as he turned away to avoid the shame she would no doubt be giving him.

“Its Anri, isn't it?”

Had she read him or did she remember? It had to be the former but for now Horace could only answer saying, “Yes my Princess. Her precisely.”

“You also wanted to request that you switch positions with Morallis on the advancing frontal lines.” It was more of a statement then a question and a true one at that. He nodded. “You would like to be the first to greet her along with the second wave.” Again he nodded.

“I know I’ve said this before my Princess,” he began. “But as much as my faith goes out to you, I long for her among all else. I can’t lie to you Quariomy ever since the day I met you you’ve only ever told me the truth but what I say here is true too. I love her, I need her but if you will see differently then I’ll let it be and stave off these rough emotions.”

“The days have been long, the months longer?”

“Yes my Princess, it seems like a lifetime ago I was a simple farmer with her at my side.”

The trek across Carridian wasn’t exactly a mountainside hike. There was a reason only three thousand could readily come but as hard as it was, in the end it payed off. Still most warriors had desires, some of which could only be found a wilderness away as was the case with Horace, only now it would be half a wilderness away.

“Please Quariomy. I ask as a-a friend.”

He wasn’t quite sure were his relations stood with Quariomy but he had served faithfully for quite some time. He was honest, transparent and loyal to her and he only ever sought to do what she wanted. However he first came as a general and if it wasn’t friendship that would win her over then it would be his experience.

“If not as a friend then do take into consideration, and I don't mean to boast, but I am better suited to lead an army. I’m more trained, resilient and conditioned.” It was a stretch and he knew it. “If not as a friend then again the leader in you must see the obvious tactical advantage I possess if anything unsavory happens within the lands of Noriphmy.”

“An uprising?” she offered.

“Precisely.” he affirmed.

“It wouldn’t be too far fetched to expect one.” Yes she was doing her best to avoid such a happening but no pony could ever expect one to take kindly to foreign invaders. Rubbing her muzzle with her hoof in thought she looked to Horace standing tall and said, “Horace, as faithful and true as you are you deserve this. As a Princess I say yes, as a friend the answer is most definitely yes but be reminded your duties as a general come first and foremost amongst all else.”

“Yes my princess,” he said doing his best to keep his composure and not become overwhelmed with joy in front of the princess.

A smile also leaked through his muzzle but Quariomy graciously waved it and said, “Send word to Morallis that you will receive the second wave and integrate them into Noriphmy.”

“I will,” he happily nodded. “A Celestial will be made readily fit to deliver. I can leave now, I can catch make it to the front in a month or so.”

“Good luck Horace, the heart of Istudious goes out to you.” Raising her hoof in resolve she chanted, “May the marrow of the bone hold strong and the blood be sanctioned for the years to come. By the bone!”

Raising his hoof he chanted back, “And by the blood!” And with that he swiftly left.

Author's Notes:

I don't mean to publish chapters six thousand words long Xd