“You were a gladiator?” Twilight asked, eyes wide in shock.

“The term was ‘gladiatrix’ actually, my dear Twilight,” Luna answered, her voice calm. “And I was a champion, I am proud to say.”

“When you and Celestia finally escaped it must have been incredible,” Twilight said, eyes going vague as she tried to imagine the scene. “You, gladius in hoof. Celestia backing you up with her magic. Defeating anypony in your—”

“Twilight, who said we escaped?” Luna quiered, interrupting Twilight’s flight of fancy.

“But… how did you get free?” Twilight asked, answering Luna’s question with a question. “Of course you escaped. Otherwise you would never have gotten loose.”

“Whip and bridle, crop and harness,” Luna repeated, by way of answer. “Decius tamed us utterly. We could no more think of escape than you can divide by zero.”

“He broke you??” Twilight said more than asked, her surprise turning to horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Decius most definitely did NOT break us,” Luna replied with a huff, seemingly unaware that her left forehoof was trembling again. “He could have had he wanted to. He certainly was capable of it. But he did not want a pair of cringing animals, crawling before him. He wanted bound servants that he could entrust with tasks, which is what he made us into.”

“So how did you get free?” Twilight inquired, noticing Luna’s hoof even through her confusion.

“Decius was becoming old,” Luna began, her own eyes unfocusing as she recalled that distant time and place. “As the years had gone by we had pleased him greatly, both in the arena and in the bedchamber. So he had it written into his will that we were to be freed upon his death, otherwise we would have been considered an inheritance to his next of kin.”

“So, you were freed when he died?” Twilight asked, cocking her head to one side as she asked the question so that she could get a better look at the tremor in Luna’s hoof.

“Nay,” Luna replied, seemingly unaware of the twitching in her errant limb. “Roam was set upon by the Windigoes. They knew that if there were any group of ponies that could stop them it would be Roam, so they attacked first.”

“What happened?” Twilight demanded, taking notes on both the history Luna was revealing and the nature of Luna’s tic.

“Roam was taken by surprise, and overwhelmed,” Luna said, and Twilight was surprised to see an almost wistful smile appear on the muzzle of the dark alicorn. “With the city lost, Decius took up his weapons and made a stand at the gates of his estate. Celestia and I behind and to either side of him, guarding the old stallion’s flanks.”

Twilight said nothing, not daring to interrupt lest it interfere with the flow of memory from the older alicorn.

“We were prepared to die at his side, as good slaves to their master,” Luna continued, and pausing for a moment as for the first time she noticed her shaking hoof. “That’s when Decius doomed ‘Tia and myself.”

“What?” Twilight gasped, in spite of herself.

“He turned, and gave us one final command,” Luna said, looking up from her hoof to stare directly into Twilight’s eyes. “He said, ‘Go! Take as many of my ponies as you can and flee. I will hold these creatures here for as long as I am able. Take care of my household, my beloved alicorns. Into your hooves I place my trust.' Gathering up what ponies we could, we obeyed and fled.”

“What happened to Decius?” Twilight asked, her quill flying across her scroll, even as her vision was held in place by Luna’s.

“As we ran, we heard the roar of his pegasus magic, a crash of thunder, followed by a frozen scream,” Luna answered, her hoof stilling at last. “We ran and ran and ran. We had some fifty ponies with us, and we obeyed that last command of his. We cared for them as if they were our own foals. In time, those fifty ponies became the core of what is today, Canterlot’s nobility.”

“Wow,” Twilight breathed, before breaking eye contact. “But you said he ‘doomed’ you. How?”

“Twilight, rear up against me and run your hooves around the inside of my peytral,” Luna commanded gently. “Tell me what you feel.”

Twilight did as she had been bid. Rearing up, she leaned her body against Luna’s strong chest and began to run her hooves along the inner surfaces of the midnight alicorn’s chestpiece. Twilight felt her cheeks grow hot at the intimate body to body contact but forced her mind to remain on task.

As she felt along the inside of the peytral Twilight felt a ring iron set into the silver. She tried to follow it all the way around but couldn’t quite reach. Up until Luna leaned forward and put her head over Twilight’s shoulder and breathed into her ear.

“Reach all the way around, Twilight,” Luna whispered, her breath a caress into a soft lavender ear. “Tell me what you feel.”

Twilight was finding it harder and harder to concentrate as her heart fell into rhythm with Luna’s, only the slim separation of flesh and bone dividing them. The lavender alicorn managed to trace all the way around the powerful neck of the taller pony and Twilight realized what Luna was showing her.

“It goes all the way around,” Twilight gasped. “Princess Luna, is that your… slave collar?”

“Indeed it is,” Luna replied, speaking softly as she continued to hold Twilight close. “‘Tia and I had our collars reforged into our peytrals so that we would never forget that we are still bound slaves.”

“But why?” Twilight asked, keeping her voice low. “Decius is centuries dead. That alone should have freed you.”

“Nay, fair Twilight,” Luna said, a smile for times long past on her face. “Roaman law passed our bond to his kin upon his death, and to their kin upon theirs and so on. We can’t even be considered to be escaped or abandoned because we are still following our owner’s last command. We are quite literally bound to our duty.”

“Isn’t there anyway you could be freed?” Twilight asked. “I could do some research and see if there are any options.”

“My sister and I have looked into this longer than you have been alive Twilight,” Luna replied, letting go of the alicorn with some reluctance. “Our only real option is to find a descendant of Decius, have them lay claim to us as part of their inheritance, and then free us formally.”

“But that could be anypony, anywhere!” exclaimed Twilight, even as her mind began to consider different angles of research. “Did Decius have any characteristics that might have been passed down?”

“He told us once his descendants would be cursed with terrible visions,” Luna answered, before turning back to look out from the balcony. “Hush now, dear friend. I wish to see how my Dashiel interacts with her counterpart.”

Twilight forced herself to stillness despite a dozen questions and a burning desire to head to her library to begin research into the families of Ancient Roam. Together, the two alicorns looked down at the azure pegasi. One toned and perfect, the other battle-scarred and war weary.

“That was so awesome!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed, coming to rest near her counterpart. “You and Luna were totally in the zone. I’ve never seen anypony fight like that before.”

“Rainbow Dash—” Dashiel began, before being cut off by the Wonderbolt.

“And you totally rock that badass look,” Rainbow continued, the torrent of words pouring out of her. “With the scars and the wing and the whole ‘Grim Warrior of Doom’ thing.”

“Rainbow,” Dashiel tried again to get a word in edgewise, but her counterpart was having none of it.

“And that off-thrust half-roll you did,” Rainbow gushed. “I’ve never seen anypony do that sort of thing before. You are totally, AWESOME!”

“I am NOT awesome!” Dashiel roared back, at last managing to stem the outpouring of words from Rainbow Dash. “I am never awesome and don’t you ever try to be like me, you got that?”

“But—” Dash began, caught by surprise at the vehemence from her counterpart.

“I am a traitor,” Dashiel growled out. “I betrayed my oaths, my ponies and the mare I loved. I failed each and every one of them, and was banished for it. Death would have been kinder to what my Princess Celestia did to me.”

“No you aren’t!” Rainbow shot back, recovering. “Twilight explained it to me. You—”

“Your Twilight took pity on me,” Dashiel replied, her face souring. “She said that to make me feel better, so I wouldn’t cheat my Celestia by killing myself. Sometimes I even believe it.”

“Twilight doesn’t lie!” Rainbow yelled back, her own anger rising from loyalty to her friend. “She told me how you saved everypony, because you were loyal to Equestria and not just one pony or even one Princess.”

“Your Twilight collects broken things,” Dashiel shot back, her eyes gleaming from unshed tears of self-loathing. “Me, Starlight Glimmer, 143, even that changeling princess she brought back. All of us are broken. Smashed like a foal’s toys.”

“You’re not broken, you’re awe—” Rainbow cut herself off, before continuing. “Okay fine, you’re kinda busted up, but that hasn’t stopped you from doing a lot of great things. And yeah, you did some bad stuff too, but you also did a whole lot of good stuff.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dashiel countered, swiping her one wing between them both. “The good doesn’t outweigh the bad. I told you. I betray—”

“Would you do it again?” Rainbow interrupted. “Other than the whole getting mind-controlled part. Knowing what would happen, would you do it again? To save your Equestria from Sombra?”

“Of course,” Dashiel responded instantly. “Any of the Shadowbolts would.”

“Then stop beating yourself up,” Rainbow said, daring to put a hoof on Dashiel’s shoulder. “You helped save your Equestria. Sure, it cost you, but like you said, it’s a price you or any of your ponies were willing to pay.”

“But how do I tell her that?” Dashiel said, in a very small voice. “When my wife comes to me in my dreams. When she holds out her hooves and asks me why I let her die. How do I tell her that her death was a price I was willing to pay?”

“You can’t,” said a third voice, one that made Dashiel spin in place with how close it was. “You can’t, because it isn’t her.”

“You… you… I,” Dashiel sputtered, heart freezing as the image of a pink mare filled her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Pinkie Pie said, not embracing the damaged pony in the way she was known for. “I know you’re sad, and you’ve been avoiding me because I look like her.”

“I…” Dashiel managed to get out, her mind almost as frozen as a distant crystal statue.

“Twilight told me about your wife,” Pinkie continued. “How she was a warrior just like you. How yours was a love born on the battlefield, forged in war and tempered in crystal.”

“Did, did she tell you how my Pinks sacrificed herself?” Dashiel asked, finding her voice at last. “How my treason was the reason she had to die?”

“Oh Dashie,” Pinkie answered, surprising both pegasi with the diminutive. “You were just one ingredient that made up what happened. It’s like baking, if you don’t put everything together just right, you don’t get something good at the end.”

“Are you saying my wife’s death was a good thing?” Dashiel ground out, as she dropped into a fighting stance. “Are you seriously telling me, that all pain and betrayal were good things?!”

“Of course not, silly billy,” Pinkie chirped. She stepped up to boop Dashiel on the nose but stopped herself in time. “Those were all really sad, and it makes me sad that they happened. But somehow when all those bad things came together, and you added a dash of Twilight Sparkle, they made a good thing. Your Equestria being free. With Sombra gone and the war over.”

“Uh,” Dashiel responded, confused, while Rainbow Dash hung back, realizing that Pinkie was getting through to the war torn pony in a way she couldn’t.

“And if those sad, bad things hadn’t of happened like they did,” Pinkie continued, finally putting herself close enough to touch Dashiel, “then the good ending might never have happened. And I think that would have made your Pinkie really sad too.”

“What do I tell her ghost?” Dashiel asked, sitting back on her haunches, her usual belligerent nature disarmed by the pink baker. “What do I say to her when she comes to me at night?”

“That’s not her,” Pinkie answered, her voice soft as she moved forward until she was almost touching Dashiel. “That’s you, blaming yourself. You would have died for her, and it hurts that she died for you instead.”

“Yeah, it does,” Dashiel whispered, head bowed. “I always live while everypony else dies. That’s why I don’t deserve to live.”

“You have to live for them, for all of them,” Pinkie said, taking the final step and wrapping the blue pegasus in a hug. “As long as you live, they aren’t all the way dead. You make them come alive again when you sing about them, or tell stories about them. They live in the minds of other ponies when you do that.”

“Heard about that, huh?” Dashiel sniffed, tears leaking from her eyes. “How do you know that isn’t Pi—my wife’s ghost, coming to me in the night?”

“Because all Pinkie Pies are connected,” Pinkie replied, waving in Rainbow Dash with a hoof. “Just like all Rainbow Dash’s are. All any of us want, is for our friends to be happy. And I think you could really use a friend to help make you happy again.”

“You can totally trust Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash assured, hugging her counterpart from the other side. “She’s awesome that way.”

“I can’t treat you like I did my Pinks,” Dashiel said, for once not having to fight her combat instincts. “No pony can ever replace her.”

“And no pony should ever try,” Pinkie answered. “I can’t be your wife, but I can be your friend. Will you let me be your friend?”

“Yeah,” Dashiel nodded, drawing in a deep breath. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

So, this chapter very nearly didn't happen. Life is still a struggle. My friend Sandstorm94 wanted to help me out and with my permission and assistance wrote Redemption Road.

At the time he wrote the story, I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to write again and I was very glad to at least see some of my vision come out through him.

Winter came, and my Muse returned. However, so too did the Pale Horse, who twice tried to guide my steps toward What Lies Beyond. Friends kept me anchored. In particular one with bright flashing eyes, and a very salty tongue.

As my mental health improved my thoughts turned to unfinished writings. In particular this story. And with the passage of time and new insights gained from my own dark tea-time of the soul, I saw a different vision than the one I had shared months ago.

You, gentle reader, have just read that new vision. One less grandiose and epic in scale than the one Sandstorm wrote on my behalf, but one that I hope has equal power and meaning.

The story, all the stories, will continue...