As we began the long descent out of the mountain, I took a moment to inspect my companions a little closer. The older mare had slightly tattered wings and small, beady red eyes that seemed permanently affixed at the exit. Her cutie mark was so faded and white that it could barely be seen, though I could tell it had at one point been a kite shield.

Her companions were equally as eclectic, though the two that interested me the most were a pair that stayed close together. The female looked angry, while her male companion just appeared sad, and stared at the floor almost constantly. Next to them walked a tall, slim thestral with a long mane and a cutie mark of a beaker that appeared to be on fire.

Walking between them and me in an almost protective manner was the largest bat pony I had seen so far. Standing a full head over his brethren, this stallion looked like he had seen a few fights in his day. Scarred, and with a cutie mark of two crossed swords sparking against one another, he would have looked intimidating to most.

I, however, was currently inhabiting the body of an enormous undead dragon that towered over them all. As such the guard thestral didn't bother me one iota, and I swiftly continued my inspection of his fellows. Starting with what looked like the only fat thestral out of the entire lot of them, her sides bulging somewhat.

A bent gold coin was emblazoned on her side, and she struggled to keep up but didn't complain. Then finally there was a short, rather diminutive young stallion with a gaunt, wiry frame that bellied a hidden strength. Upon his flank was an image of a piece of clay vaguely resembling a vase spinning on a potter’s wheel.

“So,” I began. “What are your names?”

The bat ponies looked to one another before reaching some silent agreement amongst themselves.

“I’m Crossed Swords, this is Cracked Wheel, and his wife White Iron,” the guard began, gesturing to the couple I had noticed earlier. “This young mare is Stalwart Steel.”

The sickly older mare chuckled and waved a hoof. “Oh stop it, you. I’m the oldest pony here.”

“This is Burning Beaker,” the guard continued, gesturing to the pony with a beaker on her flank before pointing at the round mare, and finally the short stallion. “Our resident merchant, Crooked Coin, and finally the potter, Fly Wheel.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” I greeted, continuing to chat as we walked across the long bridge. “Do you mind if I ask what you are all doing way out here?”

“We were fleeing the war,” Crossed Swords exclaimed. “Most are pacifists, others refugees, and some just don't have anywhere else to go.”

“Interesting,” I murmured. “And what about you?”

“I have, er had, someone important to protect,” Crossed Swords remarked. “Now I’m just doing what I can.”

“You are an honorable stallion for staying with them,” I praised. “This place is dangerous and without stoat protectors, your people will not survive.”

“Aye,” murmured the stallion, his brow creased with thought.

As we came to the top of the stairs, I held up a hand. “Pardon me, but would one or more of you like a ride down to the bottom. We have a long walk ahead of us if we intend on reaching my grove before nightfall.”

“Is it really that far?” Crossed Swords asked.

“For me and you? Absolutely not. For everyone else? Quite so,” I exclaimed.

Crossed Swords glanced to the two less physically adept amongst their rank and sighed. “If you two feel comfortable then feel free to take the offer.”

Though Crooked Coin seemed concerned and hesitant, Stalwart Steel was neither of those things.

“Just don't muss up my wings too much,” she declared. “They are already barely flight worthy as it is and I don't want to die ground-bound.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Crooked Coin whispered in a low tone.

“If this pile of bones wanted to kill us it would have already,” Stalwart barked.

“I’m a he, thank you very much,” I corrected. “I am not a thing.”

Stalwart stiffened but uttered no apology, only huffing silently.

I ignored what amounted to a microaggression and merely glanced expectantly at Crooked Coin. Who finally sighed, and looked up at me with a slightly embarrassed expression.

“Fine, just get it over with,” she muttered.

“As you wish,” I exclaimed.

As gently as I could, I picked up the two mares, cradling their undersides in my boney grip. Though they were a little startled by this, they didn't attempt to flee or demand I release them. Merely adjusting themselves until they were both if not happy, at least semi-comfortable in my hand.

“We shall meet you at the bottom,” I offered, glancing expectantly at Crossed Swords.

Who nodded. “Right, best wait for us there. We’ll glide down but it will take a while, air currents are a bit weird in here.”

With that, I began an awkward three-legged descent down to the bottom floor with two ponies in my hand. The two mares seemed rather put off by this, but thankfully they didn't do anything stupid. Furthermore, after a few minutes of walking down the many winding steps, they seemed to realize I wasn't going to kill them and relaxed.

“So…” I began again. “I do not recognize the affliction you are suffering from.”

“Not surprising,” Stalwart muttered. “Few survive a direct blast from the sun, and even fewer still end up sane enough or in few enough pieces to tell the tale.”

“The sun? I’m not sure I follow,” I remarked, rounding a bend and descending another flight of stairs.

“Celestia, the sun tyrant, what rock have you been living under?” Crooked Coin exclaimed, only to sigh. “Right, tree. You probably don't get many visitors.”

“If you don't count your former slave master then you seven shall be the first,” I remarked.

Stalwart cleared her throat, abruptly changing the subject. “Celestia controls the sun and can use it to attack us, calling down pillars of flame, or concentrated beams of plasma. My squad was caught beneath one such attack, and though we were able to get a shield up in time I was the only one who survived.”

“You are lucky,” I commented.

Stalwart snorted. “Hardly. Those who survive suffer from the white wasting. We lose all coloration, and even our cutie marks before finally going blind and deaf. After that it's not long before death follows, self-inflected or otherwise.”

“That's… horrible,” I muttered, my stolen medical knowledge coming up with nothing.

Stalwart raised an eyebrow at me curiously. “I woulda thought a carnivorous necromantic tree would have a tougher stomach than that.”

“My bark may be harder than wrought iron, but that does not mean the rest of me is,” I replied, pausing in order to maneuver around a crashed cart before preceding downwards once more.

“What about you?” I asked Crooked Coin. “How did you get involved with this merry band of refugees.”

“I uh…” Crooked Coin gulped. “Was scheduled to be executed before our mistress was defeated. After that order broke down, and no one really cared to carry out her final commands.”

“Oh how low we’ve fallen if even thieving cowards have a place in our ranks,” Stalwart muttered.

“I am no thief,” Crooked Coin hissed. “Our sovereign asked the impossible of me and when I failed, placed the blame on my head.”

“Excuses,” Stalwart spat.

“I cannot get blood from a stone, and nor can I produce funds from a people so poor they resort to eating grass,” Crooked hissed.

“Calm yourselves,” I interrupted, stopping at the bottom of the many stairs. “There is no need to raise one’s voice.”

Crooked Coin quickly stepped away from me after being placed on the ground. “Tell that to miss sanctimonious over there. She's the only one who still cares about that stupid war.”

“It was a just conflict,” Stalwart exclaimed through grit teeth. “We only desired for a land to call our own.”

“It was petty conflict between two sisters too stupid to talk it out,” Crooked Coin shot back.

I stomped my foot before Stalwart could reply, shocking them both out of their argument. Now staring up at me, the pair seemed ready to flee, until I made a long, sighing sound with my magic.

“Could you refrain from tearing one another apart until after we are done?” I asked.

“Err right,” Crooked Coin muttered.

Stalwart merely snorted bitterly and stood in silence.

We didn't have to wait long, as the rest of the bat ponies glided down to our level only a few seconds later. They looked concerned, though that quickly passed once they realized their comrades were okay. Crossed Swords seemed ready to ask what happened, but figured it out based solely on the two mare’s frowns.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Crossed Swords muttered. “When I heard that thump I thought for sure you’d killed ‘em.”

“No. If anything I stopped them from killing each other,” I replied.

“Let's just go already,” Stalwart muttered.

“After you,” I offered.

Together we began to trot or walk towards the exit, with me taking up the rear while the ponies were in front.

“May I ask why you are not flying there?” I inquired.

Crossed Swords grunted. “The winds above this forest are turbulent, and we won't be able to fly back while loaded down with food. Best to learn the lay of the land so we can make it back safe and sound.”

“Makes sense,” I concluded. “Though I am rather confused by Stalwart’s presence. No offence.”

“None taken,” Stalwart muttered. “And to answer your question it's cus I offered to stay behind and watch ya. Make sure this ain't all some kinda trick.”

“I will appreciate the company at least,” I exclaimed.

“So we’ll be the first visitors?” asked Burning Beaker. “I thought for sure you would have been forced to fight off a few patrols of Celestial soldiers. They are combing the area fairly frequently in search for Tall Order, and the other deserters.”

“Tall Order? You mean your leader?” I inquired.

“I wouldn't say that,” Crossed Swords remarked. “He used to be the head secretary to the princesses herself and was the one that organized this whole escape.”

“He hoped to create a colony away from prying eyes, where we could all be free,” Fly Wheel offered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Or escape being charged with any crimes against equinity,” someone muttered.

Burning Beaker winced. “I wasn't involved in any of that. I’m not even old enough to have had a hoof in altering our parents or grandparents into thestrals.”

“The war lasted that long?” I inquired.

“Forty three years,” Stalwart remarked. “Longest war Equestria has ever seen.”

“Both my father, and his mother before him fought under the lunar banner,” Crossed Swords mirthlessly declared.

“And what about you?” I asked, glancing down at the rather gaunt stallion walking close to my right. “What need does an army have for a potter?”

“That's not the only thing I do,” Fly Wheel muttered. “I know how to fix things, cook, and clean.”

“He was one of general Night Shadow’s pleasure stallions,” Stalwart barked.

Fly Wheel shrunk down even smaller, subtly putting Crossed Swords between himself and Stalwart.

“Fly Wheel is an important member of the logistics department and a friend,” Crossed Swords stated firmly.

I more or less sat out the rest of their discussion, merely observing and listening in on their conversation. They argued for a bit with Stlawart, though as her name implies, she did not give ground even after admitting she had been rude. It was a bit odd to see to be honest, as the way these ponies spoke made me think back to earth and all the brutality I had hoped to put behind me.

Though given my experiences upon arriving here I should have expected a good amount of cruelty. Still, it's hard not to hope that things are better as ponies don't exactly seem like the most vicious critters. As I continued to listen in I learned that was definitely not the case, especially when the talk turned to war crimes.

That particular avenue of discussion was shut down swiftly, and mercilessly by nearly everyone. Once it was gone, they were silent, even as the minutes began to turn to hours they didn't speak. At least not openly, as the married couple whispered amongst themselves and Stalwart occasionally remarked something to Crossed Swords.

I let them have their secrets, even if I could have easily picked up what they had said if I chose to. They posed no threat to me, and it seemed like a rude thing to do after they had been fairly trusting so far. That changed when evening had fallen, and we neared my territory, as the hushed conversation turned to gasps.

“What… what is that?” murmured Burning Beaker.

“What is what?” I asked. “You mean the forest?”

“It's so wild,” Burning Beaker murmured. “It's like a wall of vegetation.”

I looked around to find that yes the underbrush did grow thicker here, and to my companions, it would likely be impassable. To me, however, I couldn't help but spot the best most optimal solution for passing through it unimpeded.

“This marks the edge of my territory,” I declared. “Inside I am lord of all you see hear or touch. Though I would warn you to stay on the path. I cannot guarantee your safety otherwise.”

“Are there monsters?” asked Fly Wheel, the stallion all but clinging to Crossed Sword’s side.

“Just me,” I replied with a chuckle. “The dangers come more in the form of poisonous plants, and the like.”

“Just stick together, everyone,” Crossed Swords whispered.

Everyone did as he asked, even Stalwart, who shuffled awkwardly next to Fly Wheel.

“So where’s this path of yours?” Burning Beaker inquired.

“A moment,” I answered.

Raising my servant’s hand, I made a show of pulling back the curtain of vegetation and revealing the path. That seemed to get a fair bit of surprise, as well as a small amount of fear, though that mainly came from Fly Wheel. The others were more amazed and shocked by the bounty before them, their mouths watering at the sight.

Fruit-bearing trees could be spotted looming over bushes filled with berries everywhere they looked. Compared to the relatively sparse, and normal forest we had passed through, my home was a lush garden. Despite the hunger in their eyes, none strayed from the path and all followed close behind me as I began to walk.

“Remember to stay close,” I reminded.

The ponies despite their fear of my servant and by extension me, remained hot on my heels.

I watched their expressions closely, studying their reactions closely while we walked the path. Most were simply hungry, but Burning Beaker sported a particularly unique expression among her fellows. Curiosity burned hot in her eyes which strayed to non-fruit-bearing plants such as mushrooms and rarer flowers.

I was eager to pick her brain and ask what could be done with the many strange species under my banner. That would come with time, however, for now, I simply observed and waited, careful to ensure no one stepped in anything unpleasant. While that happened, I hid the deer skull, as well as the filly, putting them far out of sight. Thankfully this wasn't difficult, and I had ample time to make things look presentable before we finally arrived at our destination.

“Welcome, to my home,” I offered as I stepped into the open area. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

My draconic servant stepped aside, allowing the awe-struck ponies to gaze upon my domain. Their responses were rather typical, with their wonder being banished upon spotting my intimidating form at the back. That intimidation didn't remain for long, as there were many other sights to see, and a mission that they had yet to complete.

“Where is this cave and the pauper’s lunch mushrooms?” Stalwart demanded.

“Through there,” I pointed out, gesturing to the cave entrance. “I know it's blocked but if you give me a moment I can clear it for you.”

“In the meantime, I’m assuming we can get some water?” Crossed Swords asked, gesturing to the pond.

“It should be clean by now though the taste will likely not be pleasant,” I replied.

“We could always boil it,” Burning Beaker offered.

“No!” I immediately declared, only to step back. “I mean, no. I have no firewood and will not permit you to cut down any of the trees here.”

“Alright then,” Crossed Swords murmured. “Let's go get a drink.”

The group began to wander over to the pond, but I stopped the pair at the back.

“If you will permit me a moment. I would like to speak to you both in private,” I asked as patiently as I could muster.

“Us?” retorted Cracked Wheel in surprise.

“I’d rather not,” White Iron stated firmly.

“Look,” I began. “I know you came with for other reasons and that you do not like me, to say the least.”

“I’m not known for befriending trees,” White Iron muttered.

“What exactly are you accusing us of anyway?” Cracked Wheel demanded.

“I know you are searching for someone, which is why you volunteered,” I began. “Someone close to you.”

The pair looked at one another before glancing back at me.

“We’re listening,” White Iron declared.

If you want to read the next updates for my biggest stories at the begining of the month rather at the end, or want to get a commission from me as well as access to patreon exclusive content, and the chance to submit story requests every month, head over to my patreon!

Join me over on patreon and get instant access to exclusive content and early looks at new stories, patreon only stories and other great stuff! Check it out!
Or just join the discord to ensure that you dont miss an update.

This update was made possible by the wonderful support of readers like you: Ech, Tailsic, Chrisb32, Nightwing, Tonoz, CoreyPeters, Thane, Renegade, Sunset Flash, Kyokimute, Monsterkittie, Louts Petals, Tacocat, Tom, MestreJ, Aang Slyver, Canary in the Coal Mine, Ceepert, Starless, Vi Watch, Facinus, M, Nfreak, Venerable Ro, Blade Tech, Cryil Shadeclaw, John Gonzales, Nightwing, Peter Coulthard, Srgtartman, Thane Kull, Victor, Dale, Dragons' Sheppard, Egery007, Gear change the earth pony, Ivar, James, Kali, Lich Lord Krosis, Menthol Qtip, Midnight Serenade, Mop Hop, Nathan Brown, Octavia Lowbar, Pacsik, Soundtea, Hannibal, Fiamgoku, Grub, Matias Duran, and Steven.