Twilight groaned, the sound coming out closer to a dull whine, and blinked the fire from her eyes as a bright field of white invaded her vision. She tried to turn away from the blinding contrast to her lightless purgatory, but still she was bound to float helplessly. A whimper escaped her lips, and she clenched her eyes as tightly shut as possible, but the piercing light rendered the act useless. Resigning to her fate, the unicorn slowly cracked her eyes, trying to adjust them to the glare, and gazed down upon the massive expanse.

The field of white eventually came into clearer focus, displaying more than just a barren snow-colored land. Ridges, looking more like half-built walls, rose from the ground, towering higher towards her invisible perch and shrinking in size as they moved out from her position, until the entire mass of white began to fall apart like a crumbling ruin only to vanish entirely into the bottomless void. Shapes, strange bulges more closely resembling unkempt bushes, began to move avoid the eerie plateau, some of them moving along the quasi-corridors while others congregated en masse in some of the larger chambers.

One particular mass stood out from the rest of them, laying upon a large table, seemingly alone until a smaller shape popped up just beside it. They moved independently of one another, their forms bobbing as if conversing, when that voice, oh-so-tantalizingly familiar, yet still incoherent, to the unicorn, began to play from below. It was impossible for her to be certain, but it seemed to her that the voice was coming from one of those two atop that platform, alone in the vast chamber.

The entire setting set off a multitude of little bells in the unicorn’s mind. It was so comforting, so close to her, as if she knew those masses, as if she had been to that maze of white, but the connection eluded her. She could not know this place, these things. All she knew, all she had, was pain, and loneliness, and emptiness. Familiarity was impossible. Why are these things tormenting me? It hurts so much....

“I’m- ...sorry, My Twilight. I- ...want this.”

Twilight’s mind recoiled, shaken by the sound, the suddenly clarity, of that voice. She knew she recognized it, although that was impossible. It was familiar, reminiscent of a past, somebody’s past, because it couldn’t have been her’s. She closed her eyes, futilely trying to block out the light and images of the masses in an attempt to shut down the assault on her thoughts. It hurt, those words. She knew they weren’t meant to cause pain, nothing that softly spoken should ever elicit physical agony, but they sent a spike of fire from her stomach to her chest every time she unwillingly replayed them in her mind.

“...love. I do...”

Twilight ground her teeth, fighting back the molten fury working its way through her veins, as that one word echoed in her skull, rebounding over and over until she could take it no longer. As her consciousness slipped, she thought back on that word and would have spat upon it if her body would have allowed her. Love.... Why does this word hurt so much!?

White feathers scrunched together as the griffon captain furrowed her brow, groaning while the entirety of her rather miniscule caravan plodded past her in the muck. The going was slow, agonizingly slow, as thick mud from the morning rain sucked the wagons deeper into the ruts the ponies pulling them were digging. Her soldiers tired quickly, having to drag the pony-filled carts while dealing with their own sticking hooves.

“I bucking knew it! Damnit, we should have fucking left them!” Gilda grabbed a clawful of mud, squeezing it between her talons, and threw it against a tree with a wet squelch. “Candy Ass!”

“Y-yes, captain?” Cotton looked up into the griffoness’ eyes, her own trembling and shifting as she tried to quell her instinct to flee from the larger predator. For a moment, the griffon didn’t respond, setting the mare’s nerves further on edge with each passing second that those stern, golden orbs stared down at her. Her mind thought up dozens of scenarios where she would be killed and eaten, each one more gruesome than the last, until Gilda finally broke their eye contact.

“How far are we from Manehattan? We’ve gotta be close, right?”

“We’re about... three days away, ma’am. Uhm... three days by carriage.” The earth pony dropped her gaze to her hooves, putting all her efforts into not watching the anger slowly begin to shake Gilda’s body. “If we-”

“Shut up!” The tawny griffon slashed the mud at Candy’s hooves and growled at her, eliciting a quick shriek from the mare. “Horus fuck me! We shoulda fucking killed them! Shit! Damnit, she’s gonna be pissed as Tartarus.”

“M-maybe you should c-calm down! I-I know it can be bad for you if you get too upset.” Cotton kept her focus on the ground, but swivelled her ears towards the hybrid, shrinking down as her superior stalked closer. “There isn’t much we can do, but move as quickly as possible, so....” She cringed. She could feel the griffoness’ breath in her ear, hot and heavy as the girl panted from her exertion, and she tried to edge away, but the captain’s powerful grasp held her still. She opened one eye, watching as the other ponies trudged on past, too far away and too absorbed in the task of pulling and pushing the wagons to notice them off at the distant wood’s edge, as the griffon began to whisper into her ear.

“Don’t ever fucking tell me what to do.” Her voice was heavy, dominating, and sent shivers of terror down the younger girl’s spine. “You are not in charge. Don’t you dare fucking think you’re on my level, dumbass. You got that?” Cotton nodded, but Gilda roughly shook her. “Look at me! I asked you a Horus-damned question. You got that, meat?”

“Y-yes, ma’am!”

Gilda smirked and gave the mare’s cheek a couple of light slaps. “That’s what I thought. Don’t do it again. Now get the buck to the front before I decide to eat you for dinner tonight.” She slapped the mare’s ass, laughing as Candy yelped and took off at a trot towards the rest of the soldiers. She watched the pony’s backside as it bounced with each step, and felt her loins stir with each glance she caught of Cotton’s thick backside whenever her dishevelled tail allowed. Gilda licked the edges of her beak, salivating as her own tail swished in anticipation. “Mmm.... I think I’ve changed my mind....”

A groan escaped Gilda’s throat, adding to the cacophonous sound of creaking wheels and hooves squishing into the slowly drying grass. Her wings carried her stiffly through the freezing air, barely holding her body aloft as she circled the head of her miniature army, only a platoon and a half strong including the wounded. The griffon’s breaths came short, huffing out a frosty cloud with each downbeat, and her eyes clouded over with exhaustion, as were those of many of the ponies down below. The several hours of restless travel were finally taking their toll on her and her soldiers and the cold, gradually settling in over the course of the evening, was sapping their stamina faster even than the much the had to truck through. She could feel her wings growing heavy with each flap, inching her closer and closer to the murk with each passing moment, but she fought on, expecting her soldiers to follow suit. Despite her valiant efforts, however, ponies had begun to collapse in exhaustion, rolling onto their sides and groaning as the rested their sore hooves and backs.

Gilda’s eyes narrowed, and she angled herself into a shallow dive towards the troops slacking below, hoping to catch them by surprise and scare them back into their march, but as she pulled back out of her swoop, her wings nearly gave out. “Fuck!” Her muscles rippled as she forced herself back into as stable of a drop as possible and landed heavily on stiff legs, sending pins and needles up her limbs. “Damnit....” She scanned the crowd, looking for the mare she had appointed her personal adjutant only to find Cotton trotting towards her with a slight limp.

A grin spread across the captain’s face at the sight, filling her with a new sense of power, and she greeted the pony with a gentle stroke along her spine. “Alright, Candy Ass. I need you to spread the word. We’re stopping here for tonight. Have these dweebs get some tents up and then meet me in mine.” She scraped her tongue across her beak as she eyed the mare’s flank, taking in her treat-themed cutie mark and thick, candy-plumped haunches. “I’ve got some shit we gotta go over.” The powder-blue earther nodded, gave a weak salute, and ran off to deal out Gilda’s orders, once more leaving the griffon time to admire her backside and thick tailhole.

Within an hour, the majority of the campsite had been set up and several tents, most of them occupied by troops that had collapsed mid-construction and the battlefield casualties, now stood around a large campfire. The few equines that could still stand and work mulled about the campsite, helping to pitch the remaining canvases or set up the pitch-soaked torches that would ensure nothing wild would decide to pay their ragged site a visit while others worked at a separate fire at the camp’s edge to prepare a soup line for any hungry.

Gilda watched from the mouth of her captain’s tent, soaking up the feeling of dominance her status and personal strength gave her. Her sharp eyes scanned the small crowds, her predatory gaze sending shivers through most of the ponies that caught it. “Candy Ass, they’re making some grub for me too, right?”

“O-of course, ma’am!”

She nodded, a look of hunger flashing across her features. “Good. I’m bucking starving and what’s coming next will only make it worse.”

“W-what’s coming next?” The candy-pink maned mare swallowed the nervous lump in her throat as Gilda turned on her and began slinking closer, her feline body sashaying sultrily with each step. She bumped up against the tent flaps, yelping in surprise at the sudden touch, but continued to step back through them in an attempt to get away from the eagle griffon. “M-ma’am?”

“Well, I changed my mind earlier. I’m damn hungry and your candy ass just looks so... delicious.” She reached a talon out towards the mare, drawing her sharp nails across the whimpering pony’s cheek, when a terror-filled scream pierced the air. “Fuck yes!”

“Captain! Griffons and some enemy ponies are attacking fro-”

The stallion’s words were cut short by a wet gurgle, followed by a heavy thud as his body hit the floor outside Gilda’s tent. She cursed under her breath, pushing the candy-maned mare to the ground as a stray arrow tore through the thick canvas and past their heads, and quickly slipped her enchanted gauntlets over her forelegs. Without waiting another second, Gilda sprinted to the tent’s doorway, grabbed her weapon, an old spear taken from one of the injured ponies since her gifted weapon had been lost, from the ground, and turned back to the terrified Cotton with a look of pure glee plastered upon her face. “You keep your tasty ass right there. I’ll be done with these idiots and come back for you in just a minute.”

Gilda turned back to the tent entrance and pounced out of the flaps with a bellowing roar, leaping upon an unsuspecting stallion just outside. She grinned down into his face, one claw around his neck with her razor-sharp nails digging into his neck and her other holding her spear in place between his ribs. Her hips pushed against his weakly flailing legs as he slowly suffocated, grinding herself into his fur as his own fear-fueled desires grew. “So fucking hot, isn’t it!? It turns you on, huh!?” She laughed, pushing her spear deeper into his barrel and through his lung before shoving her nails under his esophagus and ripping his throat out in a spray of blood.

The stallion squirmed for several more seconds as the griffoness continued to grind herself on his leg, revelling in the hot fluids coating her face, before setting her eyes on her next victim. She leapt from the pony, her hind claws ripping into his flesh for better traction as she left the semi-aroused pony to drown in his own blood, and raced at full-speed, her fatigue long forgotten, towards a small griffoness barely large enough to even hold a weapon. This time, her bloodlusting screech drew her target’s attention and the snowy guerilla turned just in time to swipe her cutlass across Gilda’s left cheek, but only served to further the crazed girl’s lust.

Spear readied, she thrust her weapon up under the Griffonian’s foreleg, lifting her into the air and piercing her all the way through before pinning her to the ground with the polearm. She chuckled madly as her prey cried in pain, drinking in her agony, and dragged her coarse tongue across the younger girl’s tear-stained feathers, licking up the salty tears. Not needing her talons to hold her now-broken spear, Gilda dug her nails into the other griffon’s stomach as she pressed their bodies together. “Isn’t it great!? Doesn’t your pussy just burn?”

She felt her heat trailing down her leg to drip on the ground, mixing her lust with the frosting mud, and dug her talons deeper into her enemy’s flesh, ignoring the wailing girl’s cries for mercy. Her lolled from her beak as she bent closer to the half-hawk and ripped into her neck, tearing through flesh and feathers with little effort. Eyes wide, the griffon girl’s life slowly faded as Gilda tore her talons from her gut and traced them along her own stomach, moaning with each inch of hot blood smeared on her body.

Gilda grabbed the fallen huntress’ cutlass and took off into the sky, recklessly tackling another griffon mid-flight and sending them both plummeting to the ground. She landed on his back, snapping his spine with the impact and knocking the wind from herself, but staggered to her feet and began ripping into his shoulders, flinging flesh, blood, and fur all around her. Panting, Gilda stepped away from the bull griffon’s corpse only to be hit in the shoulder herself by a friendly-fired arrow.

Pain lanced along her side as the broad-headed shaft ground against her bone, eliciting a howl of pain and a renewed heat in her loins, and turned her sights on the unicorn mare that had struck her. She ripped the arrow from her arm, screaming as her own blood began to flow down her leg, and sprinted towards the offending pony, favoring her right foreleg. Before the green unicorn could react, Gilda raked her nails across the mare’s face, knocking her to the ground. “Don’t ever fucking hit me again! Next time, you’re dead!” She pressed herself to the open wounds, smearing the blood on haunches as she huffed lustily.

She could feel herself building up to a crescendo, grunting and moaning breathily into the chill night air, only to be charged by a pair of bull griffons, their scimitars pulled back as they rushed above the uneven ground. Gilda screamed in frustration, falling backwards as they converged upon her, and kicked her hind legs out, nails extended. The first griffon howled in pain as she tore his stomach open, ripping through skin and muscle, and floundered as he tried to pull his intestine back into his stomach.

The second male swung and missed, recovered with a flare of his wings, and spun back to face his target only to find the griffoness already charging him, her own pilfered cutlass slashed in a downswing. He dodged backwards, slipping on his comrade’s slick, steaming entrails, and fell to his back on the dying owl’s side. Gilda’s blade sliced through the air, taking off half of the griffon’s foreleg before embedding itself in her companion’s back with a sickening slice. Both bulls yowled in agony, but she was not done with them yet.

Gilda pounced onto the maimed griffon slammed her fist into the barely conscious secretary’s neck, the sharp barbs along her knuckles puncturing his esophagus and filling his throat with crimson blood, as she pressed herself down into his groin. She rubbed herself against his body only for him to push her off with the last of his strength just before he, too, fell victim to his wounds.

Her body was practically screaming for release as she looked for her next victim, but the melee had come to an end as the remaining Griffonian forces retreated into the distant woods, leaving her own army to gather up the freshly wounded and lick their wounds and her with the raging inferno in her loins. Her chest heaved from the exertion, but her body would not be denied its finale. She turned her eyes back to her own tent, the original target of her pent up lust, and licked up some of the sanguine fluid dripping from her beak.

Gilda stalked towards the fluttering tent flaps, her hips swaying with each step, and locked her eyes upon the pony cowering in the spacious area, completely ignorant of the suffering happening around her. Her predatory grin widened, heedless of the fresh laceration across her cheek, until she stood imposingly over the mare, her face inches away. “You’re gonna get me off. You’re gonna do whatever I say, right?” The terror-stricken Cotton nodded fervently, never taking her frantic eyes off the griffon as her forelegs were roughly taken in talons much stronger than she could ever hope to overcome. “Perfect....”

Pale moonlight poured in through the massive window adjacent to Twilight’s makeshift hospital, reflecting off the Karrun’s snowy scales as she busied herself with a large bowl, grinding a miniscule patch of moss into a fine powder. “I am most surprised that she has held on this long. With how often she tosses and screams in her sleep, I figured she’d have passed on by now. You ponies are much sturdier than I was led to believe.”

“Mommy Twilight’s the best, most awesome mommy ever! She can do anything!”

Tyra chuckled and stroked a lock of sweat-matted hair from Twilight’s face, carefully dabbing a damp cloth against the mare’s forehead to try and soothe the heat of the fever holding her. “She certainly is. She really is... amazing....” Her warm smile slipped while she gazed down at the suffering unicorn, her gentle sponging slowing with each passing moment, until she felt a nudge against her arm.

“Mommy’s getting more icky. Why’d ya stop?”

“S-sorry, Moonie. Just-” She looked up to the great dragon who continued to crush the moss into almost nothing. “Is the medicine almost ready yet? She’s burning up.”

“It is done; I was merely ensuring its quality. Now, give me that smaller bowl so that I may separate a safe amount. This plant is meant to heal dragons, not ponies. Even the slightest over-estimation will destroy your friend’s immune system.” Karrun cautiously accepted the small, stone bowl Tyra as handed it to her, and scraped out a miniscule portion of the mud brown powder, barely enough to coat the bottom of the tiny basin, before passing it back to the minotaur. “She has to inhale this powder, so carefully sprinkle it into her nose. This would be much simpler if she was awake, of course, but you’ll have to make due.”

“Won’t she choke?”

“Only if you shove it all in her muzzle at once, which you won’t do. I have not spent the last few weeks nursing this pony just for her to die because her foolish friend accidentally over-applied some medicine.”

The dragon chuckled, setting Tyra’s nerves on end as the deep noise shook the chamber, but otherwise remained silent, intent on watching the young bovine girl as she shakily held the medicine bowl above Twilight’s face with one hand while her other held the unicorn’s head still. The bowl was tilted, allowing the fine dust to pool at the stone rim, and nervously shaken to sprinkle the finely-ground moss into the byzantium pony’s face.

Twilight inhaled the crushed plant, coughing up a small cloud of the mixture only to breathe in more of the potent medicine. For a moment, Tyra had hope that she would wake up and smile up at her and Moon Beam, but the fit soon ended as the moss clung to her lungs and cleared her throat. “Are you sure this’ll work?”

“Of course not. I’d have to be a fool to guarantee that.” Karrun stood, stretching her sore limbs, and stomped towards the open doorway. “This was bred and grown to cure fevers in dragons, not ponies. It won’t kill her in its current quantity, but it won’t necessarily break whatever it is that plagues her, either. It’s merely my best recommendation with my limited knowledge of equine medicine. Keep an eye on her, but try not to disturb her. She may be in a coma, but rest is the only thing I can guarantee will break the sickness... if it can be done.”

The pair at Twilight’s bed nodded, one innocently as she turned back to the mare with an anticipating smile and the other with downcast eyes. “Mommy will be just fine! I’m here, and you’re here, and we’ll take good care of her!” Moon beamed up into the forlorn minotaur’s eyes, her bright smile widening as the beginnings of a grin twitched the corners of Tyra’s tightly drawn lips, and lovingly nuzzled into the girl’s bosom. “I bet Mommy’s thinking of us right now and will wake up very- Who’s there? Show yourself.”

The foal spun to face the room’s exit, her piercing red eyes glaring at the wall as if they could already see the figure that tentatively stepped into view. The young mare kept her head down as she entered, casting fearful glances up at the trio to make sure she was still moving in the right direction, until she reached the foot of the hospital bed and nervously looked towards the half-bovine, never making eye-contact with the navy filly. “I was told that Tinder wanted to talk to you. He’s in the conference chamber.”

“Thank you.” Tyra set her tiny ward at Twilight’s side and gently scratched her head. “Can you watch Twilight for me, Moonie? I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

The icy stare set on the intruding pony was replaced with the foal’s bright smile as she leaned into her friend’s affection. “Okay! I’ll be Mommy’s special knight! Nobody’s gonna hurt her till she’s all better!” She directed the words at the stranger in the room, but her grin never faded, masking the underlying promise with her childish glee, sending a chilling tremor through her target. “You gotta hurry, though! Mommy needs all the bestest guardians she can get!”

With the filly at her back, Tyra gingerly ushered the fear-stricken pony into the hallway before turning towards her own destination. This time, she paid little attention to the halls around her, fixing her gaze past her breasts and to the smoothed stone as her hooves clacked loudly upon them. Her mind raced, jumbling into a mass wreck of thoughts, none of them defined enough to sort from the others, but focused just enough to fill her heart with unease.

So much is going on.... Twilight hasn’t moved in weeks, we’re stuck in Draken Ridge at the complete mercy of the Council.... She sighed, holding a hand to her smooth stomach as it growled angrily at her, demanding to be filled. I want it to all be over so Twilight can.... What? She stopped in her tracks, staring intently at the barren floor, her face scrunched up in thought. What should she, would she, do? “I already know that answer. Return to the queen and throw herself into harm’s way again, over and over, until either she, her enemies, or the queen die.”

Her lips curled back in a sneer, her heart racing faster, as multiple scenarios flashed in her mind, slowly clearing as they all converged into one, an image of Twilight laying dead on a bed of lilies while her closest friends stood around in various degrees of mourning. She saw Twilight as the unicorn fell to the ground, a dagger plunged deep into her back. She saw Twilight standing in front of the pony queen, her eyes wide as a formless assassin shove the blade into her spine. She saw Twilight stepping away from the pony queen as a formless creature descended upon them and raised a wicked blade above its head. She watched as Twilight pulled away from the pony queen, their tongues hanging from their mouths, connected by a single line of saliva.

She saw this and grimaced, lifting her hands to her chest and squeezing them tight to her breast. “Of course I know the answer to that...,” it’s what I’m afraid will happen, “but I can’t do anything to stop it but throw myself in first.” She massaged her temple and looked up into the lengthy hallway, thankful for the mostly cleared hallways, empty save for a few diligent drakes set about their evening tasks, before taking off at a jog towards the council room.

The doors were already open, allowing her easy access to the spacious chamber and an early view of its occupants. Tinder reclined against the far wall, resting upon a series of plush pillows, as a wingless brown drake tended to a series of gruesome scars along his stomach, applying a foul-smelling poultice to the scaleless sections of his underbelly. "Ah, I'm glad you could join us. I apologize for the unsightly display; I was hoping this would be finished before you arrived, but I'm afraid it isn't something that can be delayed. Moon burns are not something to be taken lightly, after all."

The massive wyrm grinned as Tyra’s jaw dropped and chuckled heartily, upsetting the thick paste smeared across his leathery skin. “Did I not inform you of my age? I cannot rightly recall the year of my birth, but I am far over two thousand years, something only Equestria’s princesses can boast at surpassing. It is why I summoned you this night, after all.” His companion slathered a fresh coating of medicine across a bare patch of skin, momentarily distracting him from the minotaur. “Oh, I must apologize. I forgot to introduce you to my nurse. Miss Tyra, this is.... What was your name again, little one?”

“What does it matter? You will forget in a month’s time, just as you did the previous month and the month before that. It is amazing you remember to eat sometimes.”

“Now, now! How could I forget to eat? I enjoy my meals the most out of any other part of the day.” He chuckled, shaking his head, and sighed as the black paste was smeared over a patch of skin just as it started to glow a soft white. “Now, where was I?”

“You were talking about how old you were and why it was important?”

“Of course! Thank you, Miss Tyra. It’s nice to see at least someone respects their elders around here.” Tinder’s smile widened as his nurse rolled her eyes and patted a cushion closer to his neck. “Come, stay a while and listen while I tell you a story.” The onyx serpent waited for Tyra to mount a pillow much too large for her body and propped himself upon his forelegs to lean over her. “This is an important part of history that many have long since forgotten, or, in the case of Equestria, discarded, so be sure to listen closely.

“Many creatures know the story of the times before the night queen’s banishment, namely the first decade before the actual event, but very few know of the distant past. There are remnants of tales from before ‘harmony’, the night Princess Luna, transformed by hate into Nightmare Moon, was defeated by the Elements of Harmony, the ponies’ Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant being one of them. Most of these stories were forced from circulation by the princesses themselves while others were so unimportant or miniscule that they simply disappeared on their own.”

Tinder’s warm smile faded as a shiver ran up his body and laid back down. “This is one of the prior category, one that Equestria’s rulers tried to wipe from every species’ memories with no small amount of effort. As a minotaur, your history books may paint the world’s history somewhat differently, but I’m sure you’re aware that the relative peace we’ve enjoyed over the past few centuries has not been around as long as our esteemed sun princess would lead others to believe?”

Tyra nodded. “Other than the first moon incident a thousand years ago, there was a small war around seven hundred years ago, right?”

“I’m surprised your memory is so lucid with such pointless information, Tinder. With your memory of old history so strong, you would think that you’d be able to remember a few names.”

The old dragon laughed and gently patted the much smaller lizard’s head, much to her chagrin. “Come now. Somebody has to remember this or else we’ll all be doomed to repeat ourselves.” He refocused on the cow, his expression hardening, and regarded her with calm, calculating eyes. “Now, I do want to preface this with something of a... disclaimer, of sorts. I have not reason to paint your ruler, you pony ruler, that is, in anything less than the highest esteem. I do not want you making any radical judgements, but merely wish for you to know our history with Equestria."

He grimaced as his nurse ran a claw across one of the more brightly glowing scars, growling as pain lanced up his body. "Sorry, Tinder. They're flaring up faster than usual."

"What are-?"

"Moon burns, a remnant of our past with Equestria and extremely rare. Most victims of the night princess' wrath don't survive to see them appear." The serpent heaved a stuttering sigh and gingerly stroked the drake's back. "About sixteen hundred years ago, we were the dominant species. We preyed upon all manner of creatures, cattle; griffons; the harpies ; and even minotaurs, anything with flash was ours to feed on, but our primary food source was the Equestrians. They were such easy prey, especially the earth ponies, and there was little they could do when one of our kin felt it was time for a meal. The princesses had just fought Discord, a creature far more vile than anything you could imagine, and were weak, struggling to protect any of their subjects that they could, scattered as they were by the draconequus’ tyranny.

“Of course, the princesses did not take kindly to our excessive predatory actions, but there was little they could do to stop all of us in their weakened state, until....” Tinder’s eyes fell to the floor, staring into the dark stone. “Over the course of a few months, the younger princess, currently known as Nightmare Moon, began to grow increasingly stronger. At the time, she boasted it being her coming into her true adulthood, but... we all know the end result. She gathered ponies, thousands of them, all horned ones like your friend, and trained them. Their kind was already powerful for such a relatively peaceful people, but with the princess’ strength they were a terror.” He shuddered, drawing the younger drake’s attention away from his underbelly.

“They marched south and north, grouped in the hundreds, and slaughtered all dragons in their path. Sure, we are resilient, highly resistant to your magic in adulthood, but they had a weapon that none of us could defend against. Those few, short months were the first times the sun didn’t rise in the morning, giving the moon precedence to pour its might into the rings made of stars about their horns. They utterly destroyed any dragon they came across, young; old; or unborn; burning them into nothing with the cold moon’s fury and, at their head, was their princess.

“She led the march south, towards what was then known as the Spined Gulch. It was once a massive chasm, sharp rocks lining the pit, and where we would herd the ponies to their deaths for sport before feasting. I assume she thought it fitting that our destruction be carried out where we killed so many of them.”

“It was the first time in centuries that all of the dragon species amassed their fittest into one area, and I was present.” For a moment the wyrm’s eyes shone, glittering in the warm glow of the torches as he recalled that night. “We all converged on the ponies, barely a thousand strong, but there we were far outmatched. The skies cleared, clouds dissipating in a sudden, freezing wind, and a bright beam shone from from above. It struck the ground below us, disintegrating everything it touched, and cut a wide swathe through all of us. With just one sweep, half of us were dead, and then the unicorns below mounted their attack. Smaller streams of white shot from the horns atop their heads, tearing through our scales and liquefying our insides. Those that didn’t die on contact fell to their deaths in the ravine below, ripped to pieces by the rocks.”

Tinder looked down into his assistant's eyes as she futilely fought back her emotions and gently stroked her cheek. “I was hit by the tail end of the princess’ magic. It melted the scales from my stomach and scathed the skin underneath, leaving these scars. This one’s great-grandparents were killed in the battle, leaving their newly hatched drakelings on their own.” He sighed and stretched his back, the looked into Tyra’s quivering eyes. “When we were all dead or too injured to move, the princess cast one last spell, far more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen. Where once there was a chasm, massive spires of rock erupted from the ground, splitting the earth and creating the mountain range you see now, ensuring that no more of her kind would fall to their deaths like helpless animals.

“Afterwards, as I was slowly losing consciousness, I heard her voice ring out across the mountains. ‘Prey upon us again, and mercy will be but a word asked for your children as we wipe your filth from existence.’ Never before, nor any time after, in my life have I known fear like I had in those few short moments." Tyra stared at the pale burns, regarding them with a newfound fear at which the elder wyrm merely laughed. "Be calm, Miss Tyra. As I said, I do not wish to warp your view of the monarch or our mutual allies. We deserved the wrath brought down upon us, myself just as much as the others, and the night princess was right to bring us to justice. We were gluttonous fools, hunting the ponies for pleasure. That said, the princess was not merciless.

"Afterwards, an agreement was made between us and Equestria, setting us as allies in name only. They allowed us our traditional migration path and we swore to never prey upon them again, but that was the last true correspondence between our species. We avoided the ponies as if they were a plague and they wiped the incident from their history, likely at the behest of the day princess. Our council forbade contact with Equestria and, outside of a few hotheaded young drakes, we obeyed, too afeared of the consequences to do otherwise. It was the first time in known history that we were truly afraid of any creature. Then, there came the first griffon uprising."

The minotaur gaped at Tinder, stunned by how relaxed he was in spite of his history, whereas she could hardly keep herself from shaking from the sheer terror of his experiences. "Y-you can stop.... Please? I'm not sure I want to envision any more."

The ancient wyrm flashed her a toothy grin and nodded. "I understand. It is a difficult story to stomach, and it is best if your companion hears this as well when she recovers; I will tell you that this last piece involves the moon child and the princess'... fall... so that you may enlighten her when the time comes."

"It's about Moon Beam?" She frowned, playing the storyteller's words over in her mind, her brain working in overdrive to sort her thoughts, while Tinder shifted into a more comfortable area of his cushions. Maybe.... Maybe if I knew what it’s about I could get Twilight to.... “Actually. Could you-?”

The serpent raised a finger, silencing the minotaur. “You should return to your friend and the little one. I’m tired, and I’m certain the horned one would desire to hear what I have to say next. Think on what I’ve said, try to bring it back into the light of history, because I feel that it could very well help all involved in this rather pointless conflict.” He lowered his head to the pillows and closed his eyes, sighing as the brown drake’s claws worked the salve into his skin.

Tyra nodded weakly and hopped from her plush perch onto shaky hooves. The trip back to the hospital was slow-going, albeit uneventful, as her thoughts tried to process everything the old dragon had told her. She stepped into the expansive, sparsely furnished room, her eyes falling on the little navy foal curled up cozily next to her stepmother, and a shiver crawled up her spine as mental images of the queen’s fury flashed in her vision, forcing her to clutch her head and lean on the bed for support.

“Are you okay, lady?”

She eased herself down onto the cot beside her ward’s bed, shaking the haze from her head, and replaced her grimace with an uneasy smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy. You ready for bed, Moonie?” The filly nodded, a bright grin on her face, and curled back up next to the dark unicorn, oblivious to the troubled dreams her caretaker was doomed to experience.

Author's Notes:

Author’s Notes: Wellp, here we go. The next chapter is the doozy that I have promised (I think?) for some time. I ain’t gonna tell ya anything about it, and neither will Soaring (because he doesn't know), but I will warn you to prepare your anuses, because the hurttrain is cummin’ to town!

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did and, for you pansy boys that didn’t read the sexy clop bit, shame on you. You’re missing out! You guys have fun and enjoy the slightly longer chapter than usual! Peppy out~!

Slavedriver’s Notes: How’s it going everyone? Hopefully you aren’t all too hot and bothered by this chapter. Remember: if your erection lasts for more than four-hours, be sure to contact your doctor and get that shit checked out. Priapism is not a joke, kiddies. Anywhore, I’m still keeping Peppy writing, so be sure to tip me on your way out. See you in the next chapter!