Sig was not happy to see me.

I’d tracked him down after he flew away from Kerzin. He was perched on one of the cliffs overlooking the valley, his helmet discarded and lying in the dirt. His long, leonine tail was wrapped around his body, and he sat almost as still as a statue. At least, until I got close and opened my mouth to apologize.

“Ember,” he said, sharply cutting me off before I could even say a word. Icy blue hawk eyes snapped into view, staring me down with a predatory glare. “Do you ever think before you speak?”

“Uh…” I said, already floundering before I even had a chance to start. “Sometimes?”

Sigur’s beak grinded and he looked away with an exasperated sigh. “Right.”

Biting my lip, I slowly walked over to Sig’s side. Eventually, ears wilting, I stared down at my hooves. “I’m sorry. I’m just… frustrated.”

It took a moment before Sig responded. “There’s nothing wrong with frustration. Believe me, I’m frustrated too.” His talons scratched against the rock he was sitting on, and he shook his head. “They’re too scared to take a stand. They want to spend the rest of their lives hiding under a rock and hoping that the Crimson don’t come their way. After all, it’s worked for us in the past. We’re so close to the dam and they don’t bother us. But that’s not going to last. I know it. You know it. I bet even they know it, even if they want to pretend otherwise.”

Then he glared at me. “But insulting them isn’t going to make them listen. That’s probably the worst thing you could’ve done.”

I fell to my haunches and nodded. “I fucked up. I’m sorry,” I said, frowning at the rock under my hooves. “I should’ve kept my muzzle shut.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Sig said, a coolness in his voice. Then, shaking his head, he laid down on his stomach and hung his talons over the edge of the cliff. “I’m going to try again later to convince them after the old guy calms down a bit. And I think I’ll talk to him alone,” he added, shooting me a sideways glance.

I conceded defeat and bowed my head. “Probably for the best…”

It was pretty clear Sigur needed some time to just think, so I stood up and left him alone. Besides, I needed a little bit of time to myself, anyway. No, not that kind of time. I had Zip for that. But just time to… to just mull over my thoughts and try to relax. I certainly knew I wasn’t going to get the chance to do that in the quarry with a bunch of pissed off griffons watching me, so I worked my way around until I found a rusted out excavator to sit on. Sliding my helmet off of my head, I dropped it on the ground next to me and dug into my saddlebags until I found a wooden box with a familiar symbol on it.

I pulled out one of the four remaining cigarettes in it and lit the end with a thought. At least I could do that with my magic. Maybe one day I’d master fireballs. I stuck the cancer stick between my lips and took a draw, closing my eyes as I did so. The chemicals hit my bloodstream within seconds, and I felt like I blew a great deal of my frustration and worry out of my body with the cloud of smoke. These things were great.

Even though I originally wanted to come over here and think, I found myself just pushing away all my thoughts. I’d had enough of worrying about my own failures since the Crimson attack on Blackwash. Though I couldn’t just go do some target practice or fuck my brains out with Zip, this worked just as well. Sad that I only had three left now. I was probably going to need more than three over the next week or two alone.

But what kind of weeks would those be? Would we be moving forward with our plan, confident that we had the numbers to succeed? Or would we merely be readying for a suicidal last stand, a final cry of defiance before Carrion crushed us all under his hoof? Fuck if I knew. I didn’t want to think about it, which meant that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. When I began to suck down ash from the tiny stub between my lips, I spat the butt away and instinctively whipped out another without even thinking. Well, I guess I was down to two now…

“Nervous?”

I jumped at the voice, just barely recognizing it from days ago. Looking over my shoulder, I saw none other than Denarius standing next to me, still wearing his suit, still with his neatly trimmed facial hair. The silvery unicorn shook his head and sat down next to me, groaning as he leaned back against the excavator. “I don’t blame you. You’ve certainly got a lot to worry about.”

I plucked my cigarette from my lips and just held it in the air with my magic. “What are you doing here?!” I asked, incredulous.

Denarius just chuckled. “I’m a merchant. I go where the cartridges are.” His red magic shook a bag hanging from his neck, which made a few jingling sounds as bullets of all sorts and sizes clattered against each other. “Last week it was Green Valley, this week it’s the griffons’ quarry. They need supplies as badly as any other valley settlement, if not more.”

I looked to my left, where I could see the dam in the distance. “You’re a little close to Crimson territory, though. Didn’t you say that they just pillage caravans for fun?”

“Nopony ever made any money without taking a gamble every now and then,” Denarius said, shrugging. “Doubled my bodyguards as a precaution anyway. Turns out bandits don’t want to test their mettle against sixteen well-armed mercenaries. They have enough brainpower to know that’s a bad idea.”

I nodded and fell silent, putting the cigarette back in my mouth and taking another draw from it. Between the idle chatter with Denarius and the chemicals bombarding my brain, I was starting to forget about my anxiety. Sure it was two cigarettes in a hoofful of minutes, but at least it wasn’t anything hard, right?

“I heard about what your friends did to the Crimson’s fort,” Denarius said after a bit. “Damn impressive. Bold, even, if the rumors I’ve heard about their numbers are true.” He eyed the armor I was wearing and pointed at it. “You one of them now?”

“For better or for worse,” I said, shrugging. “It’s not where I figured I’d end up a week ago, but desperate times call for desperate measures. They needed me, and I needed them. It worked for everypony.”

Denarius nodded. “So did you find your friends?”

“One of them,” I said. “They took the others to the dam.” I looked to the left again, trying to stare through the concrete and steel keeping it together. This was the closest I’d been to Nova and Brass since the attack on Blackwash. Where in that relic of the old world where they being held? More importantly, were they even still alive? Nova they needed (or at least I prayed they needed her), but Brass? He was just a militiapony, even if he was a captain. What use would Carrion see in him to keep him around and alive?

“Well, I wish you the best of luck in rescuing them,” Denarius said, standing up and grunting. “You’re going to need all the help you can get, and I want to make sure that I’m far away from the dam when it happens. Maybe even gone from the valley entirely. Celestia knows that if you lose, there won’t be anypony to hold them back if they decide to get real nasty with the caravans.”

I held up a hoof and sat upright. “What is that all about?”

Denarius blinked. “Pardon?”

“Celestia,” I said, angling my head to the side. “I’ve heard it a bunch of times since coming to the valley. I thought it was just a fairy tale.”

“Well,” Denarius said, brushing a hoof against his suit, “Tell that to the ponies of the valley. They’re very superstitious. Legend has it that Celestia was a deity that moved the sun around Equus. Supposedly ruled Equestria too for a long time. At least, until she died.”

I furrowed my brow, remembering the symbol on the dam… the dam bearing her name. “And ponies actually believe that?”

The merchant shrugged. “It’s more common than you think. Ponies on Auris will worship any or all of the four alicorns. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Twilight—any of them. It gives them something to believe in when times are rough.”

“And you?” I asked, taking a draw on the cigarette and flicking away the butt. “What do you believe?”

Denarius pursed his lips; I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “I believe in hope,” he finally said. “Deep inside of us, there’s good waiting to come out. We might have forgotten it when Equestria abandoned us all those years ago, but it’s still there. You can see it in the farmer, in the child, in the slave who’s been beaten into submission, time and time again. All it takes is the right moment to draw that goodness out and for something magical to happen. And so long as ponies are still willing to believe in kind and merciful beings like Celestia, then there’s hope for them yet.”

I nodded, mulling over his words. “You certainly sound like an optimist,” I finally said, a small smile settling on my lips.

“I try to be,” Denarius said, smiling back at me. “A pessimist would’ve given up long ago.”

“Heh. Right.” Sighing, I looked at the box lying next to me and shut it with a flick of my magic. Then I remembered who I was talking to. “Hey, before you go…” Denarius raised an eyebrow and turned back to me, and I lightly shook the box. “Got any more? I could probably use a top off before shit hits the fan.”

Denarius just shrugged. “Supposing you got the bullets, I’m sure I’ve got a few lying in my bags.” He beckoned for me to follow him, and together we set off toward the lip of the quarry, where I saw his small army of mercenaries gathered, thin bags of supplies on their backs. I guess Denarius dumped off a good bit of his wares while Sig and I were busy trying to convince Kerzin to join us. His magic pulled a wrap of paper out of the bags of one of the mercenaries, and he unfolded it to show me almost two dozen home rolled cigarettes.

I’ll skip over the haggling part, but I feel like Denarius gave me a fair lesson in how much a bullet was worth in Auris’ economy. Big bullets were worth much more than little bullets; I was able to trade a single .50cal round I’d gotten in the random assortment of cartridges Barley had given me for two cigarettes, but it took like ten or twelve .22 rounds to buy just one. In the end, I gave Denarius a whole bunch of random bullets for ten more cigarettes, which I greedily added to my box. At least I was stocked up for a while now.

As we finished our exchange, I noticed a gaggle of griffons watching us from a distance, whispering among themselves. A shiver ran down my spine, and I tried my best to shake it off with a literal shake of my head. Denarius noticed my uneasiness, and his eyes flicked to the griffons. “Seems like you’re not welcome here,” he commented.

“You can say that again,” I muttered, frowning at the griffons. “The Sentinels sent me and another soldier that grew up here to try and negotiate an alliance of sorts. We need their numbers if we’re going to kill Carrion. But they don’t want anything to do with us.”

Denarius nodded and watched the group disband, the griffons flying in different directions. “They’re afraid of what the Crimson would do to them if word gets out that they’re hiding Sentinels.”

“But they don’t seem to understand that if they just join us then they won’t have to worry about the Crimson ever again!” I hung my head, exasperated, and kicked a pebble away. “We could end this, but people are too afraid to stand up for what’s right.”

“It’s hard to convince somepony to risk death for some cause that they’re not a part of,” Denarius said. “Why throw away your safety trying to change the status quo?”

“It’s stupid,” I muttered. “So stupid.”

The merchant patted me on the shoulder. “I understand your frustration. I really do. If there was some way I could help you, I would.”

“Well, you have a bunch of mercenaries, right?” I asked, feeling a tiny glimmer of hope. “And they’re really well armed, too.”

But Denarius shook his head. “‘Fighting a war’ isn’t in their contract,” he said. “They’re only paid to escort me between my stops in the valley. If I tried to rent them out as a private army, they’d abandon me in an instant. No merc wants to fight the Crimson anyway. There are always easier jobs.”

Well that was disappointing. “The Sentinels are trying to hire mercs, though,” I said. “I think they were gonna pay them a thousand cartridges each. Wouldn’t your guards be interested in that when they’re done protecting you?”

Denarius shrugged. “Maybe. Throw a thousand .50s at a merc and they’ll probably sign up, even if it means squaring off against Carrion. The Sentinels can probably afford it, too.” After a moment, he added, “Though if they’re this desperate to try to recruit local settlements instead of hiring a mercenary army, they’re either really stingy with their ammo, or they really don’t have much to begin with. I couldn’t say, though. I’ve never been to the Bastion myself.”

It was certainly something to speak to Zip or Sigur about, at least. Before I could say anything else, a look from one of Denarius’ mercenaries got his attention. Grunting, he rolled his shoulders and stretched his limbs. “The mercs are getting antsy. The longer they’re out here with me, the longer it’ll take for them to go back to their base of operations and take new contracts.”

I felt a little crestfallen that Denarius was already leaving again. “Aww. Well, I hope the rest of your stops pay off,” I said, turning back to his supply bags as he began to tidy them up and strap them on. “Hopefully this won’t be the last time we see each other.”

“Well, if the stars are willing, then we’ll meet again,” he said, solemnly chuckling. Once he had all of his bags strapped across his flanks, he smiled at me and touched my shoulder. “Stay safe out there. That armor won’t protect you from everything.”

I nodded back at him. “I will, don’t worry.”

“Good.” Then, with a bow, the merchant turned away and began to walk away from the quarry to the trail leading back down the mountain, his mercenaries leading the way.

But before he could disappear entirely, I galloped after him. “Wait!” I shouted, causing the little caravan to stop. When I reached his side, I held my hoof out to him. “Ember. It’s… it’s my real name.”

The merchant smiled and shook my hoof. “Ember. That’s a beautiful name.” Then, patting me on the shoulder once more, he nodded to me. “Stay safe, Ember.”

Then he turned away and the caravan began to move again. I watched them disappear down the mountainside until finally they were little more than colorful specks vanishing under the treetops.

The rest of the day was… uneventful. You’d think that something interesting would happen, but nope, at least not while Sig and I were there. It felt like the griffons were going out of their way to avoid us as much as possible, which, to be fair, is probably exactly what they were doing. Even Sig’s attempts to appeal to his siblings weren’t working. Kerzin had made up his mind, and the rest of the flock was falling in behind their leader.

I did get to meet a few of Sig’s siblings, though, such as his younger sister, Dacie. She was a gray hen with an assortment of lighter and darker gray feathers across her face and chest. The display was pretty attractive, at least in my opinion. I wasn’t sure how her looks stacked up by griffon standards. But apparently, she liked me, because when we went to visit her, she spent a lot of time by my side, making some sort of purring noise and stealing looks at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.

Suffice it to say, I was a little uncomfortable about that. Just the thought of having a sharp beak or talons anywhere near my nethers was a terrifying prospect.

“So why don’t you just stay here?” Dacie had asked when we’d gone to see her in her hollow. Well, technically it was Sig’s hollow, too. All of his brothers and sisters occupied one literal hole in the quarry wall, just like the other flocks of siblings that’d come before and after his. At the moment, though, Dacie was the only one there, grabbing a bow and a quiver of arrows to go hunting.

“Because I have obligations to the Sentinels,” Sig said, running a hand through his head crest. He was standing on the opposite side of Dacie’s bed while she got her things. “I’m one of their veteran soldiers. I can’t leave them now.”

“Why not?” Dacie said, frowning and crossing her arms. “You left us without a second thought. Or did you forget that, too?”

I fidgeted from where I sat at the side of the room. At least Dacie being mad at her brother had taken her attention away from me for a moment, though it still left me trapped in awkward silence as the fucking shitshow that was today just kept getting worse.

When Sig didn’t answer, Dacie sighed and reached across one side of the bed to grasp his talons. “It’s been twelve winters, Sig. You’ve been gone from the quarry for twelve years!”

“I know,” Sig murmured.

“You remember Ailia and Filo and their siblings, right?” Dacie asked. When Sig nodded, she released his talons and pointed out the opening of the hollow. “They’re all grown up now! They’re the ones doing the shit jobs, and when you left, they could hardly fly! Spirits, Yvelde has already had three kids, and I’ve had one of my own!” Her talons tightened around the bow in frustration, and she spread her arms wide. “How could you just leave all of us like that?! And not only leave us, but never bother to visit once in all that time?!”

“It hasn’t been all fun and games for me, you know,” Sigur growled back, forcing Dacie to back down. “I’ve spent the last five years hiding at our home base because of the Crimson. They own the valley now, Dacie! Everything from the dam to the coast is theirs. Theirs to enslave and plunder as they wish.”

He tipped his head down and stared at his balled fists. “I’ve been fighting that every day since I left home. For twelve years—don’t you understand?” He stretched a talon out to Dacie like he was pleading for her to listen to him. “I’ve been fighting them for twelve years to save you. To save all of you. Until the Crimson are gone, you’ll never be safe. Never.”

Dacie fidgeted with her bow. “The Crimson don’t bother us,” she murmured. “And they never will.”

Sig’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t possibly know that for sure.”

“They’ll never bother us,” she murmured again, clutching her bow to her chest. “And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave as soon as you can.”

Without another word, she slipped around the bed and marched toward the exit, not even bothering to look over her shoulder as she did so.

We were begrudgingly offered some food to eat and a hollow to sleep in near the bottom of the quarry. At least the food was pleasant, even if our hosts’ attitudes weren’t. It certainly beat the mush that the Sentinels served day in and day out. Seriously, they really needed a good cook. I’m surprised morale was as high as it was when you only had what basically amounted to cardboard oatmeal to eat for your three square meals a day.

The hollow, on the other hoof, was cramped and bare, and this far down in the quarry, it got dark early. All we were provided with were two threadbare bedrolls and old, smelly pillows. We had to pile our armor and bags on the ground in the back of the hollow, and even then, the end of my bedroll poked out under the night sky. At least it was still summer, and still warm, so I didn’t really need blankets. And besides, it still wasn’t as bad as sleeping inside of a tree or on a half-rotted floor in an attic. The hard stone did really hurt my back, though, and I knew I’d be feeling the pain in the morning.

Which probably explained why I couldn’t get any sleep. Sig didn’t have that problem, because he was out like a light. Turns out that griffons can snore, though it was more of a whistling noise because of his beak. I also really had to piss, so I had enough motivation to go wandering around the quarry at like two in the morning.

I left my shit in the hollow, figuring I wouldn’t need it, and began the long spiraling walk out of the quarry. I really wished that I had wings or knew how to teleport; it would’ve turned a ten minute walk into like a twenty second flight or a few teleports out of the bottom of the quarry. The glaring halogen construction lights chased away whatever heaviness had been building in my eyelids, and the cello bugs’ deep trilling provided a calm stillness to the night. Only one of the two moons was out tonight, so I could see the stars overhead. They weren’t as clear as they usually were in Blackwash, but the brightest constellations were still visible, even with the bright light the bigger moon, Argenta, reflected into the night. The curtains on most of the griffon hollows were drawn shut as the cat-birds got some sleep.

I was definitely awake by the time I finished the hike out of the quarry, and with my bladder about to burst, I found a shadowy corner behind an excavator to make water in. I noticed after I squatted down that I could see the dam from here, its top awash in harsh lights that threw off a haze into the surrounding night. Smirking, I imagined Carrion looking out his window to see me pissing in front of his home, a big ‘fuck you’ to the Crimson and everything it stood for. One day, when we finally put him in the ground, I was going to piss on his grave, too.

Sighing, I stepped away from the excavator and shook my matted mane out. I knew I had helmet hair, and even though I was supposed to be sleeping, it was pissing me off. Maybe the next time I banged Zip I’d ask her to comb it and brush it and braid it and shit. It’d been too long since somepony played with my mane, and I certainly didn’t have the time to style it myself. What with saving my friends and shooting Carrion in the dick and all that.

Then I noticed the light moving across the valley, away from the dam.

Toward me.

I blinked, blinked again, then rubbed my eyes, blinking once more just to be sure. Yes, that light just flew away from the dam. And yes, it was going in my direction. If I held my breath, I could hear the sound of a turbine echoing over the emptiness of the valley—and growing louder.

Spewing forth a string of obscenities, I turned around and galloped back down the ramp into the quarry, only stopping when I finally made it to our little hovel at the bottom. Once there, I rushed to wake Sig up, and by ‘rushed to him’ I mean ‘tripped and fell on my face in front of him’.

Thankfully, the clattering of my tangled limbs, my pained grunt, and my subsequent panting was enough to wake the griffon up, and stars did he jump out of his bedroll. “Ember?” he asked as soon as he confirmed that he wasn’t in any immediate danger. “What’s going on?”

He hopped over to me and helped me up, and I immediately grabbed my armor and began slapping the pieces on with my magic. “Ri… Ringbird,” I panted. “In the valley… Coming toward us…”

“Shit,” was all Sigur had to say, and he immediately began throwing his own armor on. Thankfully it was pretty advanced stuff, so all we had to do was hold the pieces near each other and they’d connect and lock with a hiss and a whir. In a minute we were both armed and armored, and the adrenaline now roaring through my blood had chased away whatever lingering exhaustion remained.

Then I got another healthy shot of it when Sigur said “Hold on” and grabbed me by the shoulders, taking wing with me dangling beneath him.

I may or may not have screamed at suddenly becoming weightless.

Sigur’s quick flight across the quarry took us to the central hollow, and he barely gave me any warning before he let go and dropped me the last foot or two to the ground. Through some lucky limb flailing I didn’t end up on my face again, and I immediately turned to follow him past the drawn curtain. I noticed that there was plenty of light inside, unlike the other hollows which were all mostly dark.

Inside, I found out why. Kerzin sat in a chair, watching a candle slowly burn down, with ten armed griffons sitting or standing around him. They all seemed like they were waiting for something, and the looks they gave me set off something in my core. A chill crept down my spine as the hair on my neck stood on end, and my legs locked up as I felt anxiety taking hold of my limbs.

In short, something was wrong.

Whether or not Sigur noticed it, I didn’t know. Panting from the quick dash across the quarry, he steadied himself with a hand against one of the quarry walls and looked right at the back of Kerzin’s head. “Elder, you have to raise the alarm. Call the patrols back, now.”

Kerzin was silent, his eyes still fixated on the dancing flame in front of him. Around him, the other griffons in the room fidgeted. I recognized one as Jahlen, though Gatre was nowhere to be seen. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

“Elder Kerzin,” Sig tried again when the old griffon didn’t respond. “The Crimson… they’re coming. There’s a ringbird in the valley, and it’s coming here. We have to ready everygriffon, get the young ones to the lower hollows, and the nest makers, too. We won’t have long before they’re here.”

Silence. I swallowed hard as a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

Exasperated, Sig turned to Jahlen. “J, what’s going on? What’s with the old guy?”

“You should never have come here,” Kerzin rasped, slowly shaking his head from side to side as he stared into the flame. “You should have never done this to your flock.”

Sig’s beak moved, and I could see the confusion on his face. “E-Elder?”

Grunting, Kerzin stood up and turned around, his hawk eyes immediately fixing us in place. “Do you know why the Crimson have never bothered us, and why they will never bother us?” he asked, stepping closer. “It’s not because they ignore us. Far from it. They know that we are here. They know that we’re too weak to stop them if they wanted to enslave us all. We are only alive today because I have made us useful to them. We are more valuable to them alive than dead.”

I felt my jaw hanging slack. “W-What?” I stammered, taking a step back as the elder got close. “Y-You’re not—?”

“I do what I must to keep us safe,” Kerzin spat, glaring at me. “The Crimson wants tribute. They want information. I give it to them. I have scouts keep an eye on caravans and Sentinel patrols around the quarry. In return, they don’t wipe us off the face of Auris. And when word got out that the Sentinels were gaining ground in the valley after their attack on the fort…”

He stopped in front of Sigur and looked him in the eyes. “Carrion was very clear to report the presence of any Sentinels near the quarry. If he ever found out that we’d harbored them, even for a night, he promised to burn everything we have. When given the choice between extermination and subjugation, I believe the choice I made was easy.”

“You sold us out,” Sig hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

“Do you think I wanted to?” Kerzin retorted, glaring at Sig. “Sentinel or not, you were one of our flock. I have no delusions about what the Crimson will do once they get here. My best I can offer you is a burial with our ancestors, so that they may look after your soul. As for the pony…” His eyes swiveled to me. “Whether or not the flesh strippers make a meal out of her is their decision. Or maybe we can sell her to him. He pays well for attractive young mares.” I wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that the jumpsuit I wore under the armor covered the brand on my flank. If it came down to it, I’d rather be executed than sold into slavery.

I realized I could hear the whirring noise of the ringbird’s rotor wheel, and it was pretty damn loud. If it wasn’t over the quarry right now, then it had to be really fucking close. Knowing that Sig and I had only a tiny window to shoot our way out of here and escape, I switched off the safeties on my armor guns and pointed the crosshair on my HUD right at Kerzin’s head. “You little—!”

I didn’t even get to finish that before I took a solid whack to the back of the head, sending me onto the floor. Thank the stars I was wearing my helmet, otherwise that probably would’ve knocked me out cold. Instead, I got the lovely feeling of a set of claws held around my throat and a gun barrel all but shoved up my nose as one of Kerzin’s thugs held me down. Next to me, I saw Sig struggle for a moment before a few of the other griffons restrained him and trained their rifles on him. Though they looked like low caliber automatics, I doubted that our armors’ shields would do much against a gun placed right against our fucking skulls. In the corner of the room, Jahlen shifted uncomfortably, but kept his rifle aimed at my brains nonetheless.

“Strip their armor,” Kerzin barked, spinning in place and going back to sit in front of the candle. “Bring them up to Carrion’s soldiers and do whatever they say. Come back to me when it’s finished.”

As a pair of griffons dragged me to my hooves, Sigur fought against the two restraining him even as they tore away his armor. “Think about what you’re doing! You’re writing your name into the wrong side of history! When the Sentinels kill Carrion and learn what happened here, it’ll be your head, Elder! Your head!”

“Better for me to die for the safety of my flock than to drive it into the flames of war,” Kerzin muttered, not even turning to watch as his lackeys dragged us away. “For its fire will leave none untouched, and only charred bones will remain.”

“You fucker!” I screamed at him as the griffons dragged us away, stripping our armor in the process. “You’re dead! You’re fucking dead!” My horn lit up with my rage, earning me a crack across the brow with a griffon’s open hand, the talons raking through my flesh and spilling blood into my eyes. I howled in pain and thrashed about before a punch to the gut completely winded me, leaving me struggling to breathe as my diaphragm spasmed from the blow. Whether or not Sig was also trying to fight, I couldn’t tell, but Kerzin’s thugs dragged us out of the hollow and began driving us out of the quarry.

When the dizziness and nausea finally cleared after the beating I just took, my mind began to race a million miles a minute. I could see the ringbird perched just off to the edge of the quarry above us, its harsh lights almost blinding me as we marched out of the hole in the ground. The silhouettes of a few ponies stood on the edge of the quarry, outlined by the lights behind them. I could see four or five from here, but who knew how many more awaited us just out of sight. Then the blood pouring off of my brow blinded me again, and I shook my head to try and toss it from my eyes. It stung, but it wasn’t like I could stop and wipe it away with my hooves. Using my horn was also out of the question, unless I wanted to get clawed again.

Our march drew some attention from the other griffons in the quarry. Candles were lit and curtains were pulled back as curious griffons poked their heads out to see what all the commotion was about. The elders watched with solemn looks on their faces, while the fledglings watched with piqued curiosity. From her hollow, I caught sight of Dacie watching us go, the horror on her face seemingly etched in stone. Gatre stood by her side, one hand on her shoulder and his beak nervously chewing on the claws of his other hand.

At my side, Sigur turned to his brother. “Did you know about this?” he asked him, hurt painfully clear in his voice. The other griffons shoved him along before he could get his answer, however, and Jahlen only followed at a distance, his wings slowly beating the air and Sigur’s armor held in his talons.

Once we got out of the quarry, the griffons drove us toward a waiting group of six Crimson soldiers. Their leader, who I immediately picked out by his wild and spiky black war paint, trotted up to us with a grin on his face. “Look what we have here! You two fucks lost?”

Sigur didn’t say a word; he only glared at the bandit. For once in my life, I decided to stay quiet and follow his example. I was well aware of the fact that I was a pretty mare surrounded by a group of hardened slavers who probably hadn’t gotten their daily dose of rape in yet. The less I provoked them, the better.

Metal plates clattered behind us as Jahlen and another griffon dumped our armor on the ground. “They came in this morning,” the other griffon said. “Started asking around if we’d join them. We tied them up long enough for you guys to get here.”

“Carrion got the message from your elder, monster,” the Crimson soldier growled, making the griffon shrink back. “And we’ll honor our deal. Consider next month’s tithe paid off.”

The griffon bowed his head, and as a group, they began to back away from us. Even though we weren’t being restrained anymore, neither Sig nor I dared to move with all the guns pointing our way. We were unarmed, or at least I was, since Sig had his claws and everything, and we didn’t have our armor to protect us. They’d gun us down before we even moved a yard. ‘Fucked’ doesn’t even begin to describe just how hopelessly boned we were.

“What are you going to do with them?” Jahlen asked, fidgeting with the other griffons.

“The fuck do you think we’re going to do with them?” The unicorn stomped forward and took a revolver out of its holster, jamming it under my chin before I could blink. My breath caught in my throat as I heard him draw the hammer back. He could end my life with a thought. “They’re Sentinels. They’re too dangerous to make slaves. The only way to be safe is to put a bullet in their fucking skulls.”

“N-Not here, you won’t,” Jahlen stammered, holding up his talons. When the bandit leered at him, he swallowed hard and gestured to the quarry. “The quarry is… it’s hallowed ground. Blood can’t be spilled here.”

I would’ve raised my eyebrow at that, considering I’m pretty sure some of my blood had been spilled on the death march up here, but I was afraid even the tiniest move would set off the gun under my chin. The bullet was less than a fucking foot from its chamber in the revolver to the base of my brain. Just the mere thought of that was enough to hold me still out of fear.

After a tense few seconds, the bandit leader finally took his revolver away from my head, and I gasped for air as I dared to breathe again. “Fine,” the bandit said, holstering his revolver. “We’ll do it out of sight of your stupid hole in the ground. Do what you want with the bodies, we only need the armor to prove to Carrion that the job is done.”

Then he turned to the ponies standing next to him and nodded to us, a sick smile on his muzzle. “Break them.”

As one, the Crimson soldiers moved toward us, hauling me and Sig off of the ground and restraining our attempts to struggle free. While they held me in place, I felt one of them grab hold of my right hind leg and extend it, only for another pony to strike it right in the knee with his rifle. I screamed in pain as my leg immediately snapped in half, and it sounded like they were doing the same to Sigur. Red haze filled my vision, or what was left of it with the blood still falling into my eyes, and all the strength fled my limbs at once. I was too weak and in too much pain to even attempt to resist the Crimson as they dragged me away, my broken and now useless leg trailing through the dirt, sending fresh knives of pain into my flank with every bump and every rock.

Sometimes I really regretted not just living the rest of my life on Barley’s farm, away from all of this shit.

The pain crippling my body made it really hard to keep track of how far they dragged us. All I know is that when they finally released me, we were sitting on a ledge overlooking a very steep fall to the ground below. Under the light of the moon, I thought I could see some kind of six-legged wolf-like things running around under the cliff. Maybe they knew they were about to get some fresh, tenderized meat to feast on.

By my side, Sig struggled to sit up. One of his wings looked dislocated, and they’d also broken one of his cat legs. I tried to help him, but the click of a hammer being cocked froze me in place. Gulping, I looked over my shoulder to see the bandit leader standing behind us with his revolver drawn and aimed at me, the rest of his soldiers watching from a short distance behind him.

My heart pounded in my chest, fighting to burst free. My mouth went dry, and a cold, primal fear settled in my gut. This was it. This was the end of the line. A bullet in the brain and a fall off the cliff to the predators below. That was how it was going to end. I’d never free my friends. I’d never see Gauge or Nova again. I’d never see Zip and her beautiful smiling orange face. I never thought that last night would’ve been the last time I’d ever see her.

I looked away, my eyes drifting up to the moon. I thought I saw Mom’s ghost looking down on me from the stars. If she was up there... if there even was an ‘up there’ to go to... well, I’d guess I’d find that out soon.

I shared one last look with Sigur before closing my eyes. I felt my lungs expand and contract. The coarseness of the stone under my legs. The fiery fingers of pain weaving their way along the nerves in my broken leg. The cut across my brow, still oozing a fair amount of sticky blood. Funny, I never felt so alive before.

One last exhale, my breath flowing over my tongue and between my teeth like water.

“Goodnight,” was all the bandit said to me. A split second later, a gunshot rang out over the valley with a deafening roar.