“And what sort of celebration is this, then?” asks the faux royal drawl of Jarl Drake as she takes broad steps into the tavern. “I’d expect the Dragonborn to attend his own party at Equinesreach, yet here you all are in this miserable half-pub, uh, no offense to you, Miss.”

“None taken,” sneers the barmaid.

“I think we’ve all seen enough excitement for one day, Jarl,” says Caro. “What brings you here?”

Drake takes a seat. “If you must know, I was looking into my precious liquid glass, trying to put my hoof on where you could possibly go from here, only to find that the glass cannot trace your future any longer.”

Tohro slams his mug down and signals to keep them coming. “Shokenda said the same.”

“Ugh, that hag!” Drake’s enthusiasm wavers instantly. “She dares set hoof in my town? Were my guards not all bloody cowards I’d see her hanged in a heartbeat.”

“For once, Jarl, we are in agreement.” Tohro points to his eye.

“On top of all of this, she has to ruin your pretty face?”

Everypony, even the barmaid, looks at Jarl Drake with raised eyebrows. She just laughs off the embarrassment. “One too many glasses of grape juice fell within my reach, I’m afraid.” Her grim disposition returns. “Shokenda has a presence one can feel from miles away. She is not happy. Our actions have hurt her reputation, and now the rest of Trottingham and I are black spots upon her map.”

Caro sighs. “Is this the part where you exile us for bringing nothing but misfortune upon your domain?”

“No. This is the part where I have to ask another favor of you, and I am sorry that I must do so. I understand you’re sick of taking orders...”

Caro pats the jarl on back, a bold gesture that causes her to jolt upright. “I’ve claimed my vengeance, and it wouldn’t have been possible without you and Boysenberry. If there is anything you need, I’m your colt.”

Drake blushes and reciprocates Caro’s action. “That’s a relief to hear, because you are not going to like this.” She pauses and takes a deep breath as Caro listens intently. “While I tend my people in the wake of the dragon’s death, I need you to go west of here to Everfree and seek an audience with Queen Platinum. Tell her everything you know and have her send a cavalry unit to Trottingham.”

Tohro leans forward, waiting for one hell of a show, and Shae - who is up to her sixth mug - is too inebriated to care. Caro moves his hoof to his face and knots his brow.

“Okay, where do I begin... The Empire thinks me a psychopathic arsonist and murderer. They lock me a cell with drugged food that makes me welcome the chopping block. Three soldiers corner me on the road and try to kill me for no reason whatsoever. Two more soldiers rape a Blackwing up against a rock and carry her away in chains! The Empire has shown no kindness for me or anypony else! What makes you think Platinum will take sympathy on you when I can hardly take sympathy on you?! What in the hell makes you think I have anything to gain by following through on your self absorbed political bullshit?!”

Caro brings his hooves down on the table so hard it splinters the wood.

So much for ‘I’m your colt,’ thinks Tohro.

Jarl Drake relaxes in her seat as Caro pants from that long, breathless rant.

"While I don't agree with some of Queen Platinum's methods,” she states as calmly as ever, “the Legion is a necessary evil in this battle. We need their protection, and in return we grin and bare it." She levels her stare at Tohro. "If your former Blackwing friends defeat them, Trottingham will be defenseless against Shokenda's bloodlust, and I think Caro knows how powerful bloodlust can be.”

The earthwalker faces away from the jarl, determined to keep his stance on the matter, though he does consider the ramifications. I would hate for anything awful to happen to this town. It truly is a safe haven, and Shokenda would see it put to ruin... But Platinum could also do that much, or worse!

“Imperial soldiers have knocked on my door before, requesting support, and frankly, I’m beginning to regret not siding with them any sooner. If I had, I wouldn’t have to ask such a thing of you. Trottingham is the last line of defense between the east and west sector of Equestria. Whoever holds my town holds the upper hoof. While my intention was to remain neutral and let this whole conflict burn out, things have changed. Shokenda is through with peaceful treaty. She will stop at nothing to have Equestria in her grasp. Queen Platinum thinks she can negotiate, but I know better. I need her at my side, and she needs me. That is why she has to say yes.”

Caro looks back at Jarl Drake. “What did your liquid glass predict?”

“It... didn’t. As I said before, it simply refuses to predict your future. Wherever you go, fate has no meaning. But one thing's for certain; this war could be won or lost to either side by your hoof.”

Caro hops out of his seat, ready to leave the bar in a quiet rage. “Well then, my hoof will not-

“I’ll do it.”

All eyes turn to Tohro. That is the last thing anypony expected him to say.

“If Caro won’t talk to Queen Platinum, then I will.”

“What are you-”

The white pegasus flies above the table, staring Caro down. “Hey, we’re in a guild now, so anything we do, we do as a group.”

“But-but... Are you listening to yourself? A former Blackwing soldier wants to walk right into Platinum’s territory and say, ‘Hey, please destroy my old comrades!’ Am I the only one who fails to see the logic here? Shae?”

Caro turns to the unicorn slouching in her seat, who adjusts her glasses and sits upright in a hurry. “Well, if I have to be honest... If the Blackwings take Trottingham, then who’s to say they won’t take Wintercolt next?”

All odds are stacked against Caro. His face lands in his hooves again.

“Everything we’ve done up to this point has been your decision, but I say it’s about time somepony else takes the reins.” Tohro chugs the rest of his mead, not paying mind to how much drains off his chin, and aggressively slams the mug down. “Sorry Dragonborn, but Dragonrein is going to Everfree.”

~Tohro~

My scarred eye still stings like nopony’s business.

To say that my life had drastically changed in a hurry is a gross understatement. I am absolutely overwhelmed. Of course, I welcome Jarl Drake’s offer for a free night at the Armored Mare inn if it means I can put all this behind me, for the moment at least. Rejection from the Blackwings, the death of a dragon... I can only take so much. I’m sure that when I wake in the morning, the path will be a lot clearer.

Plus, Shae needs to sleep off all that mead. I’m lost on what came over her, and why she’d be tempted to get this shitfaced. The moment we enter the inn, she stumbles up to our room on the second floor, using the guard rail for support.

The inn is rather seedy, with straw sticking out of the mattresses and some of the doors coming off their hinges, but the company is quite lovely. Caro is getting the respect and reverence he deserves, with applause and cheers from the townsfolk. Some have been waiting hours just to get a glimpse of him. Figures. How many dragon slayers can they they’ve known in their lives?

I really wish Caro would cheer up. Nopony likes having their authority undermined, I get that, and I do understand why he has no desire to meet the queen.

Between waves of appraisal from his fans, I tap him on the wither and try to apologize for being so assertive. “Hey, I-”

“Can we just... not?” he snaps.

Well, so much for that.

“Sorry, mate...” he says after taking a deep breath. “I’m scared, okay? What if Platinum doesn’t listen to us, or anypony else that knows I’m innocent?” He swallows. “I don’t think I can take another three days in a prison cell.”

I pat his wither again, this time a little more tenderly. “Like I said, I’ll always be there to save your blank flank when you get into trouble. Haven’t broken that promise, have I?”

Caro gives a slight smile. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

I can’t help myself. I wrap my forelegs around his neck. His coarse coat reminds me of steel wool, clean and rough at the same time. It’s amusing that such a burly earthwalker is fond of hygiene in a time where there’s little of it to be found.

I’m not sure why I’m hugging him. I guess... I don’t want him to be afraid. This is the most I can do. He’s just so Epona-damned huggable.

“Could you... not do that?” he asks, pushing me away gently.

“Sorry,” I say, even though I’m not.

It’s worth it just to see my tall, strong, muscular dragon slayer of a friend blush. I snicker as we retreat to our room.

Shae is already out cold, leaning against the wall in the corner. She’s down to her black underclothes and she’s using her red coat as a makeshift blanket. She whinnies a little with every breath. It’s quite adorable.

“Uh, Tohro...”

Caro points to the actual bed. Like the others downstairs, it’s nothing too impressive, but after that trek through Beak Falls Barrow, any soft surface looks inviting.

After a moment, I realize what concerns Caro. There’s only the one bed. I find myself laughing out loud while he just stands there, dreading having to share the undersized covers with me.

In the early days of service as a Blackwing, recruits are told to always sleep in their armor, just in case of a sudden battle or assassination attempt. I’m not about to abandon that tactic. My leather padding isn’t too uncomfortable but I’m sure Caro will sleep much easier, wearing nothing at all. He sets his bags and sheathe on the bedside table and lies down upon the bed, wrapping himself up and letting out a sigh of relief. Come to think of it, isn’t this the first time he’s slept on a genuine bed in a long time? I doubt the Empire puts much expense into its prison cells.

I curl up underneath what little blanket remains.

I close my eyes and try to imagine flying across a blue sky on a summer day, far away from the putrid draugr, or Shokenda’s disapproving glare... There’s a happy thought for you. Still, sleep refuses to come to me.

I eventually stop fighting and open my eyes again. I roll over and find myself staring into Caro’s dragon eyes.

“You know,” he says, “you’re the last pony I’d expect to be so enthusiastic about going to Everfree. What are you planning?” He tilts an eyebrow. “Are you going to kill Platinum?”

I jolt upwards and wave my hooves in front of me. “No! Not... No, I’d never do that.” I relax and feather my mane. “It’s not as if I have a reason to.”

“Either way, I don’t really care.”

We share a chuckle before I take a deep breath and continue.

“The actual reason I’m going is...” I take another breath. This is going to be heavy. “I’m going to prove to the whole damn Imperial Legion that you’re innocent.”

“What?" Caro leans forward on his haunches, looking at me quizzically. “Are you insane? They won’t believe you. They won’t even listen.”

“It’s worth a shot in my book.”

“That book is going to burn, Tohro. Platinum will put all of us on the chopping block.” Caro imitates a blade cutting clean through his neck. “Are you going to risk all of us just for my innocence?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“How?” Caro holds his hooves out as if he’s expecting me to hand him an answer, which I do. I pull out a small vial of liquid glass from my pouch and give it to him.

“I nicked it from Jarl Drake. Don’t worry, I intend on giving it back, just as soon as Platinum sees what really happened in Reinoc.”

Caro turns the phyle over, fascinated by how I found the time to steal the concoction underneath everypony’s noses. “You’re a sneaky thief...” His face grows warmer by the moment, before he glares at me. “I’m not going to hug you.”

I raise my hooves in the air and feign a disappointed groan. “Aw, you tease!”

We both lay back down, with the bed feeling much more comfortable than before.

“Hey... could I see your mark?” he asks.

If it were any other day, I would crack a joke. I’d probably call him a pervert or something of the sort, but I can tell he’s in no such mood.

“Sure,” I say as I sit up.

I undo the straps of my armor and remove the padding, followed by my boots. Now I’m just as stark naked as Caro, who’s blushing again. His eyes dart down to my flanks and widen.

“Wow, that’s... how did that happen?”

I look to the brand upon my rump, and the matching one on my other side. No mark to see, only the burns. “It’s the first thing they do to you when you’re indoctrinated into the Blackwings.”

“They burn your mark?”

I shrug. “I don’t really understand it either, but I suppose it’s to ensure somepony doesn’t join out of desire for a cheap thrill. See the way the burn is shaped? Go on, take a closer look.”

Caro hesitantly leans in and squints his eyes. “That’s a number... One hundred thirty nine?”

“The next bloke who signs on is getting this very same brand.”

~Vision End~

With their bags chock full of new batches of potions, camping supplies, and two and half bars of soap, Dragonrein leaves Trottingham in a somewhat sour mood. Caro still leads the way, though he wears a look of distaste.

I killed a damn dragon and this is my reward. A trot into the city of my other worst enemy. I hope you know what you’re doing, Tohro.

Jarl Drake’s reassurance that she she would contact Platinum ahead of time has done little to lessen his dread. Her intentions, despite everything she put the group through, seem genuine, but Caro has his doubts that Platinum will cooperate. The archers’ crossbows will remain at the ready for him. What an honor.

Two earthwalker stallions, one black and one tan, both standing at least a head taller than him, are hitching themselves up to a wooden wagon beside the stables. Shae gallops ahead and approaches them.

“Good evening, sirs,” she says with a wave.

They both grunt in response. “To you as well,” says the tan one. “Have you need of our services? We can take you most anywhere in a manner of hours.”

Tohro tilts his head. “Huh, usually it’s the pegasi who run the transportation business. Whatever happened to that?”

The black one chuckles. “Every pegasus in this field up and left when they heard of dragons roaming the skies. They didn’t want to risk burning to a crisp for a few coins.”

“Cowards, the lot of them,” blurts the tan one. He glances at Tohro’s disgruntled expression. “Oh, uh, no offense to you, fella.”

Dragons are just as much a threat on the ground as they are in the sky. I should know, I bloody killed one! Caro keeps reminding himself of Nahkriin’s fate, for it at least helps him keep chipper enough to focus on the task at hoof. He also finds himself unusually flustered at the thought of her skeleton, and how Jarl Drake intends to use it as an ornament upon Equinesreach.

“Where will you be headed, then?” asks the black stallion. “Voyages to Ivarstable are half off today.”

Shae politely refuses with a shake of her head. “Actually, we’re expected in Everfree. How much will a trip there cost us?”

“I’d say about... ninety bits, if weather is no object.”

“If you get injured along the way, you get a discount!” the tan one adds.

“Make it eighty and we’re good.” Caro tosses the coins before the stallions and hops into the carriage, taking the leftmost bench, across from Shae and Tohro. “We’re not in the mood to barter. We’re going.”

The black stallion snorts and takes the coins. “You drive a hard bargain, sir. Ugh, fine.”

“Wait! Wait for me! One more passenger!”

Red maned Rosemary, wearing a leather coat and fedora, gallops up the path to the carriage, pausing a moment to breath. She slips the stallions a large sack of bits, much more than necessary. Neither of them complain.

“I’ll go where they’re going. Just hurry, please?”

The tan one gives a happy whinny. “Ma’am, for your generosity we’d run across the ocean. Take a seat, by all means.”

“Thank you,” Rosemary says with a sigh as she looks to Dragonrein. “Good afternoon, laddies. And Shae.” She nods to the unicorn with a warm smile, who returns the favor.

“You want to come with?”

Rosemary adjusts her pouch, which looks like it has been hastily packed with bare essentials. “Of course! If you’ll have me, that is?”

Caro looks to the bronze scimitar upon his back. “After all you’ve done for us? How could we say no?”

“The more mares the mare-ier!” cracks Tohro, warranting groans from the rest of Dragonrein. Rosemary doesn’t seem to get it.

“Where are y’all headed?” she asks.

Shae pipes up. “We’re going to Ever-”

“They are off on an important mission, and you are not going with them.” Tangerine’s imperious call causes Rosemary to grimace. The former general, now out of her Imperial armor and clad in yellow robes, trots to her daughter and snags her by the mane.

“AGH! Mum!”

Tohro stifles a snicker.

“I cannot stress this enough,” commands Tangerine as she forces Rosemary to face her. “These flights of fancy end today.”

“Mum, I’m not a filly anymore- URGH!” The grip around Rosemary’s mane tightens. “This is abuse!”

“No, this is authority, and this isn’t just about you. Now, listen. Wolf River has arranged to have Roches of the Carrier Clan escort you back to the villa.”

“Oh, so you’re not even going to carry out your own punishment, is that it?”

Tangerine waves that comment off and lets go of her daughter’s mane. “Wolf River has requested that I remain in Trottingham. He has need of me.”

“Fantastic. Off to fight another war, are you? Do you even know what the Carrier Clan is?”

“I’m sure I know more than you.”

“I’ve lived here for-”

Tangerine points to Trottingham. “Rosemary, march.”

The tension is thick enough to cut with a spoon. After staring her mother in the eyes, Rosemary bows her head and slowly walks away.

“Roches will be waiting for you at the forge. Pack up only what you need.”

“Yes, Mother Dearest,” she groans.

“And none of the sarcasm.”

Rosemary raises her head for a moment, looks to Dragonrein out of the corner of her eye and winks. Tangerine doesn’t notice. Instead, she turns to Caro, wearing a new, startling face of remorse, which makes him smile. “So... that dragon.”

“Now do you believe me?”

“I’m... Well, not entirely sure what I believe at this point. I’ve always taken the Empire’s word as fact, but the appearance of that beast fills my mind with doubt. I just... I’m absolutely discombobulated.”

“Well, that makes up for everything now, doesn’t it?” says Tohro as he relaxes his forelegs behind his head. “Don’t feel too bad. We’ve both lost faith in our idols.”

“I’ve heard. Nasty business with your eye.”

Tohro shrugs. “I actually like it. It reminds me to never go back.”

She raises her hoof, offering it to Caro. “It seems we’re all a little lost and confused at this point. But, until we can sort this mess out, may we call a truce?”

Caro takes her hoof and shakes proudly. The first bit of kindness he’s received from the Empire in some time. “Perhaps when Wolf River is finished with you, you could sign on with us. We could use your strong heart.”

Tangerine looks aside for a second, then nods. “I’ll consider it.”

As the rickety turn and the wagon moves swiftly across the snow covered plains, the stallions pulling the wagon talk amongst themselves. “When was the last time you visited the capital, Brawn?” asks the black one.

“I was there only the once, as a child. Don’t remember much of it, only that there was a lot of purple. The queen sure loves her glamour.”

“That’s her solution to everything, it is. No matter how terrible things get, you can fix everything by bedazzling the shit out of it. That’s how all them unicorns think.”

“No offense to you, ma’am,” says the tan one to Shae. Some offense was taken, as it didn’t sound so much like an apology. More like an afterthought. Shae furls her brow and buries her muzzle into the pages of An Explorer‘s Guide to the Equestrian Highlands.

“See, this is what I put up with every day,” whispers Caro. “Ponies pissing on the other tribes without even having the courtesy of calling it rain."

Tohro merely lets out a yawn and stretches out on the bench. “Cheer up, mate, it’s not so bad. All that tension from the settlement wars isn’t going to go away in an instant but at least nopony’s at each other’s throat.”

Shae’s eyes leave her book. “Settlement wars?”

“Not a historian, are you?” asks Tohro. “Spent a little too much time on the magic tomes?”

“Yes, but I believe it paid off,” says the unicorn with a smirk.

Tohro claps his hooves together. “Okay, crash course. Commander Hurricane, Princess Platinum, Chancellor Puddinghead. They tried to settle upon this land all at the same time. Same old song and dance; diplomacy failed, all hell broke loose. The minotaurs, the gryphons, et cetera, they joined the fray. Guts splatter everywhere, wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

Shae nods. “And that ended with the Hearth’s Warming?”

“Eeyup. All it took was a second Great Blizzard and nearly freezing over for the tribes to finally come to an agreement. That’s how the world works, I guess.”

“Yet the racism remains,” says Caro, gesturing to the stallions. “How difficult can it be to accept that we’re all equal? This is counterproductive.”

“It’s not that simple, mate,” says Tohro. “I think it’s fine that we’re able to coexist, but genuine equality will probably take another hundred years, maybe even a thousand.”

The sun touches the horizon as the carriage ascends the western foothills, prompting Caro to lower his eyelids and lay down. It’s been a long day filled with blood and vengeance, but something tells him tomorrow isn’t going to be nearly as pleasant. If he wasn’t so physically exhausted, sleep would be impossible.

“A thousand more years of bigotry? Not if I have anything to say about it,” he mutters as the sounds of creaking wood and hoofsteps fade away.

~Caro~

The white void of nothing again. Just as it had been before, no spot of land or life as far as the eye can see, except for a single indiscernible figure in the distance.

“Caro...”

I groan, knowing that if this is anything like last time, I’ll wake up in a moment with more question than answers. Regardless, I speak to the figure. “Yes, I know my own name. Get on with it.”

“Caro...”

“Is that all you can say?”

“Caro...”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

With nothing better to do, I trot in the direction of the silhouette, hoping against hope that I can at least get a glimpse of him... her? It? Perhaps I can make sense of all this, or just pass it off as a dream I’ve been unfortunate enough to experience twice. I’m already sick of it.

“Caro...”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.”

To my honest surprise, the figure starts to come into view, becoming less of a faded object and taking the shape of a... filly?

For some reason, I still can’t quite get a grasp of her colors or what tribe she belongs to, but I can tell she’s just a little one. Can’t be far out of infancy. Suddenly my impatience towards this dream seems so petty.

“Caro...”

The voice is no longer unpleasant to me. It must be the filly’s voice. But, why is she calling out to me in particular? And for what reason?

“Caro... please...”

~Vision End~

“Today I woke and looked outside again,
and the skies looked the same to me...
Something had told that this world had changed,
couldn't figure out what could it- Oh, Caro is awake, I see.”

A deep Saddle Arabian accent accompanying compulsive rhyming. Caro knows who this is. “Hello, Xephyr.”

The zebra bard takes a bow and flips his mane. He’s wrapped in a patchy fur cloak and he holds his lute upon his lap. He, Shae, Tohro, and a stranger wearing a hood are gathered around a batch of conjured blue fire burning harmlessly in the center of the carriage, protecting themselves from the freezing rain.

“My finesse with the strings has come far since we conversed with that Ivarstable bar. A fine quantity of bits I make each day though it’s still hardly enough to buy the cheapest hay.”

“Damn inflation, huh?” grunts Tohro. He looks more disgruntled than usual, though Caro figures it’s because there’s a zebra in his presence. Another bout of bigotry, for reasons nopony understands.

Caro shivers, jolting with each raindrop upon his coat. He rolls over and embraces the heat of the blue flames. “Much more homey and nurturing than a dragon’s flame, that much is true."

Xephyr nods and scoots next to Caro. “Tohro has told me the tale of ye, and how your brought a dragon much wrought. What a coincidence it is that I sung the song of the Dragonborn in the presence of the colt of legend sworn.”

“Who is that?” Caro asks, nodding at the hooded stranger.

“Not a clue, for he will not tell me who,” says Xephyr.

“Perhaps he’s a mute?” Shae suggests.

Tohro shrugs. “Or bandits have cut out his tongue.”

Shae’s eyes widen. “That actually happens?”

“It’s so victims won’t go crying to the authorities. Poor sods just sound like blubbering idiots.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“Such is the way of the twilight age,” Tohro says nonchalantly as he takes a swig of mead from his flask. He then offers it to Shae, who takes it and looks at the hooded stranger.

“Are you going to Everfree too?” she asks.

The hooded stranger doesn’t respond, not even with a nod or a shake.

“Um, hello?” she waves her hoof in front of his eyes, or at least where his eyes would be if they were visible. He reaches out to adjust his robes.

“AH!” Shae nearly falls back when she sees the appendage is a lion’s paw. “Look!”

Caro, Tohro and Xephyr’s eyes fall on the hooded stranger and only see a perfectly natural grey foreleg.

“I think all that mead went to your head,” says Caro. “Do yourself a favor and stay away from alcohol for a while, at least until you hit maturity.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Shae forces the flask back onto Tohro and sits back down on the bench, trying to comprehend what the hell she just saw. “Um, sorry about that,” she says to the stranger.

“Do you mind?” he says. “I’m busy doing the fishstick. ‘Tis a very delicate state of mind.”

Dragonrein and Xephyr both do a double take.

“Fishsti- You can talk?” exclaims Tohro.

The stranger chuckles. “Indeed! And there you were ignoring my silence! I was making faces behind this veil, you know.”

“At us?” asks Caro.

“No, at the ants upon the seat. They were giving me the raspberry.”

“Ants? Berries?” Shae checks around her for any insects, wearing the same face of bewilderment as everypony else.

Xephyr grips his lute tightly. “I have a feeling that this traveler’s mind is a-peeling. Um, apart.”

The stranger laughs out loud, prompting Shae to back up against Tohro for protection. “I’ve embraced that fact deep within my heart. A mad being sits before thee, and in my mind, two plus two equals three!”

Xephyr narrows his gaze, peeking underneath the laughing stranger’s hood. He sees two sickly yellow eyes with mismatched pupils. “Mad is the right word. You’re quite insane from what I’ve heard.”

“Quite the bard, aren’t you? What is insanity, my burly friend? If you ask me, it’s more fun in the end! If there were more of me and less of you—”

“...then I’d have left this ride.”

“That much is true!” says Tohro.

The stranger continues, laughing. “I’ve traveled a while, looking for some, who may provide assistance for a certain someone. Would you be willing to?”

“If there will be a reward, that depends...” says Tohro.

The stranger clops his hooves together. “Yes, oh, yes, good friends!”

“Why have we suddenly gone all rhymey?” asks Xephyr.

“You’re one to talk, you striped limey,” says Tohro.

Caro looks about at the absurdity. Shae’s eyes are darting back and forth, failing to make sense of this, and the hooded stranger is madly grinning, showing off yellow teeth with a single long fang. “All this mayhem makes me want to dance,” he says.

Shae’s eyes freeze, pupils shrinking to dots, and she speaks, “I’m not wearing any under—”

“FUS RO!” shouts Caro to the sky. Everypony aside from the stranger covers their ears, stopping their string of compulsive rhyming. “Are we done?” Everypony nods. He faces the stranger. “You’re mad with power.”

“Of course I am. Have you ever tried being mad without power? ‘Tis boring and nopony listens to you. Two things I simply cannot stand.”

“So, what are you? A unicorn with powers over lesser minds?” Caro looks to the rest. “Um, no offense.”

“None taken,” they all say.

The stranger waves his hooves in front of his face, or lack thereof. “If you’re trying to be wrong, then you’re right! I am not a unicorn, nor do I have power over your minds. To put it another way, my power already resides within you. Insanity is like a cliff. All it takes is a little push!”

The carriage begins to decelerate. Shae lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Fauste! I can’t take this anymore.”

Caro whispers to Tohro, “Let’s make a break for it, before this mad horse thinks about following us.”

Everypony looks ahead to see they’ve gone from the snow covered Mt. Everfree Pass to a completely different location; a dreary forest with dead trees as far as the eye can see, which, given the inordinate amount of fog, isn’t very far. All color seems to have been washed from the land.

“This can’t be Everfree!” proclaims Shae. “Where’s the Veneightian architecture? The Rainbow Palace? The diamond moat?” She hops out of the carriage and approaches the tan and black stallions. “Sirs, I think you may have taken a wrong- WAGH!”

“What is it?” asks Caro as he disembarks.

“They’re gone! The drivers are gone! Without a trace!” Shae scans the grass with her horn, trying to detect anything they may have left behind. Not so much as a hoofstep. “They just up and disappeared.”

Tohro flutters down from the carriage and taps Caro on the back. “Uh, mate? The mad pony’s gone too.”

Xephyr is looking about in every direction, caught in a bout of paranoia. “Stay aware! He may backstab you.”

Tohro groans. “I thought we were done with that.”

“Hey!” yells Shae, her horn letting out a burst of magenta light. “Stop acting like brats!”

The brief moment of quiet is made even more eerie by the uncanny silence of the foreign woods. There is no breeze to rustle the trees, nor are there chirps of birds or insects. Complete silence.

“I don’t think we should stay here long.” Xephyr leaps out of the carriage and makes a less than graceful landing on his haunches, getting a snicker from Tohro. Caro helps him up. “Traveling back shouldn’t steer us wrong.”

“I concur, but what about the carriage?”

Tohro groans. “It’s not laced with gold. Nopony is going to miss it, now why don’t we make like ponies who want to live and get the hell out of here?”

The party had been too preoccupied with their fit of rhyming and the hooded stranger’s cryptic words to pay attention to how far off course they had been taken. All anypony can do is trot forward and hope the snow laden road returns.

Moments turn into minutes, and the minutes turn into an hour before Tohro lets out a frustrated grunt. “We’re going in bloody circles!”

“How can that be?” says Xephyr. “This is the only path, you see?”

“It happens all the time with foolhardy travelers. They think they’re going straight and then, well, they’re dead.” Tohro scratches his head and points upwards. “But what do I know? Why don’t we ask the stars for the answers?”

Xephyr purses his lips. “I’d appreciate it so if you would not insult my religion so low.”

Caro scratches his chin and has a peculiar thought. “We’ve been trotting for Epona knows how long and we haven’t seen a single crossroads or detour. Where in Equestria is there any such path?”

“You have a point there,” says Shae. “Feel free to call me insane, but... I don’t think we’re in Equestria right now.”

Tohro wheels around and stops Shae in her tracks. “So, you’re saying that those stallions took our money and somehow dragged us beyond the border and pulled a disappearing act? We were only on that carriage a couple of hours, how would that be possible?”

Xephyr speaks up, “If I may say, so that in this forest we won’t stay—”

“No one asked you, stripes!” snaps Tohro. “Leave this to the adventurers!”

“Let him speak!” shouts Caro. “Your prejudices can wait.” He turns to Xephyr. “Now, what were you saying?”

Xephyr clears his throat as he falls to his haunches. He equips his lute and gives it a test strum before playing a slow and foreboding melody. “This is a song of an entity zebrakind has come to fear and loathe, for it brings nothing but chaos, and I’m quite sure it is upon us.” He sings in his native zebra tongue as he looks around nervously.

“Kucha bhayānaka pūrē śahara kē mādhyama sē nīcē jā rahā hai.
Tēja thī arājakatā aura yaha lātā hai saba.
Maiṁ nahīṁ, maiṁ bilkula bhī nahīṁ lē jā sakatē haiṁ, ālasya mēṁ nahīṁ baiṭha sakatē haiṁ!
Maiṁ nāma, yaha saba kē pīchē ēka abhiśāpa...”

Mad laughter echoes across the empty forest. “Ah, so my legacy extends beyond the land of Equestria! How this pleases me... This is going to be the most fun I’ve had in eons!”

A flash of lightning causes Shae and Tohro to duck and cover. The fog shifts and merges together at a single point in the middle of the group and forms a gap in the road from which pink and green flames emerge, followed by a laughing grey serpent with an equine face, mismatched with asymmetrical monstrous appendages. Its entire existence defies logic.

“Thank the sweetrolls I can finally stop this silly little game of hide and seek! That mortal form was simply exhausting to keep alive! Well, he’s not alive now but... ah well.”

Caro is too busy trying to wrap his head around how this... thing could even exist. He draws his scimitar. “What the hell are you?!”

The beast appears offended, and then humored. It strikes a dramatic pose like a pony would on a stage, with its griffon hand raised high. “How rude! You should know a god of disharmony and chaos when you see one!” It takes a bow. “The name is Discord! Howl at the moon for me!”

Xephyr does a poor imitation of a wolf’s cry, earning a smack on the back of the head from Tohro. “What are you doing?”

“Better to obey and not die on this day!”

“All you zebras are useless.” Tohro snorts and spreads his wing-blades. “I say we nip this abomination’s ranting in the bud. What do you think, Caro?”

The earthwalker nods, crouching into his battle stance. “I couldn’t agree more, partner." Cooperation on the field of battle, he thinks. At least this is something we can agree on.

They both make a leap at the patchwork monster with their blades hungry for blood. Caro’s adrenaline begins to kick in and...

...his scimitar vanishes in a blinding flash.

“Fuck.”

Both him and Tohro are tossed aside when Discord slaps them both with his lion paw. They both land on their faces.

“Well, that was amusing, but I’m afraid there are no sharp things allowed in this classroom. Nor filthy language!” He turns and points at Shae with his gryphon hand. “That includes unicorn horns, little lady,” he says gleefully, tapping the point of Shae’s horn.

Shae backs away as Discord snaps his fingers. Her horn disappears from her head. She feels for it and shrieks. Her only means of defense is gone from sight. “What have you done?!” she cries.

Discord isn’t listening. “Or would it be called a unihorn?” he asks, following up with a shrug. “Technically it’s called an alicorn, but you ponies ruined that word long ago. Doesn’t really matter, I suppose.” He catches a glimpse of Shae’s terrified and confused expression. He slithers over to her and strokes her mane. She grits her teeth and tries to slink away but Discord doesn’t let go. “Don’t worry yourself, my dear. We all lose our horniness every now and then. Feel lucky that yours will return in due time.”

Caro charges forth and smacks Discord’s hand away from Shae. “Leave her alone!”

“Oooh, this one has spunk! And what about the one who actually knows who I am?” Discord turns to Xephyr, who is still on his haunches, praying to the stars. “Oh, you zebras and your religions. You are the only ones who still have the audacity to fear me and grant me tribute. The others could learn from you.”

Xephyr, trembling from the sight of the beast, grips his lute like a club. He’s too terrified to rhyme. “Tr-tribute?! Y-you steal innocent souls and m-m-make them you slaves!”

“Perhaps the same can be said of all religions.”

“Y-your words are as empty as your heart! Equinekind ill needs a false god such as yourself.” Xephyr gets to his hooves and makes a desperate swing with his lute. Discord’s body moves out of the way without effort and the lute shatters against the ground.

Discord furls his brow and folds his arms. A goblet containing a dark liquid materializes next to him, which he promptly takes and chugs down in an instant. He then tosses the liquid aside. “What is a pony? A miserable little pile of figgy pudding at four in the morning! But enough talk!” He hovers over Xephyr with his mismatched arms raised, ready for the kill.

As the zebra braces himself and Caro and Tohro gallop to the rescue, Discord suddenly returns to standing upright. “I’m outta here,” he says.

Caro stomps the grass and calls out to the serpentine monster as he spreads his dragon and pegasus wings and flies across the fog heavy sky. “Get back here, coward! You don’t just steal our weapons and take off!”

Discord holds his hands up, pleading false innocence. He then covers up where his ears should be, near his goat horn and deer antler. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over how awe inspiring I am.” He strokes his goatee. “Something tells me you’re concerned about your weapons. I do apologize for that, but I need insurance, you see. Got to ensure you don’t try to lob my gorgeous head off after agreeing to assist me. And this is the part where he says...”

“We never agreed to anything!”

“Called it! Wow, you are really good at winning!”

Caro’s teeth are grinding together so fiercely his jaw is beginning to ache. “Winning what?!” he shouts.

Discord disappears and materializes right next to Caro’s head. “Isn’t that cute? BUT IT’S WROOOONG!" Caro staggers away, shaking the ringing out of his ears. “While you all were enjoying that pleasant yet preposterous plague of putrid purple prose poetry, you and your predominate pegasus pal said you would partake of my philanthropy and grant me your patronage.” He pops back next to Shae and pokes her bare forehead. “You’ll have your precious blades and horns, as soon as you give me what I want.” Discord glances at the cowering Xephyr as he picks up the splintered remains of his lute. “Oh, and I’ll fix your zebra friend’s instrument, because that is just pathetic.”

Caro looks back at Shae, who is on the verge of tears as she continues to rub where her horn was moments ago. He can tell she’s straining to attempt some form of magic, but nothing comes of it. Turning to Discord, who is tapping his fingers on thin air, Caro gives his answer.

“Fine.”

"Wonderful!" Discord disappears into the dirt and reappears behind Caro, resting his gryphon claws on his shoulder. “See, for some time now, I’ve been enjoying this most wonderful feast with all sorts of fine delicacies. Tofu, tomato bisque, liver, gouda, bananas, the list goes on. I haven’t had much of anything else to do, I mean, I’ve been stuck in this dimension with absolutely-”

“Stop yourself,” says Caro as he tilts his brow. “Did you just say dimension?”

“Dimension, world, plane of reality, circle of hell, take your pick. Either way, hopping about on the spectrum of the universe really got me into a pickle, which is also on the dinner menu, by the way. See, I have no means of leaving this dreadful place. An equine projection of myself is the extent of my powers, but it works beautifully. I digress. I’ve had little company, aside from a few chaotic creatures of my own creation and the occasional Saddle Arabian courier. They only stick around for so long. The only pony I’ve had in my midst for an extended period of time, on the other hand or hoof, cannot leave, because he just so happens to own the place.”

Caro cannot wrap his head around Discord’s body, let alone a word he says. At this point, all he can do is nod and think, You know what? This is happening. I am just going to deal with it.

Tohro, however, is smiling away. Despite the headaches the beast invoked earlier, he can't help but snicker at Discord's nonsense.

Xephyr is trudging along slowly, making constant prayers for mercy, and Shae is close to doing the same. Not having a horn upon her head is all sorts of unnatural and unnerving for her. It just doesn’t feel right.

“Ah, here we are,” says Discord.

It’s not the strangest sight they’ve seen, but a colorful royal dinner table sitting in the middle of a dead forest does raise Caro and Tohro's brows.

A single dark blue pegasus with a greying mane is pacing around the table. He carries a disposition of anger and perpetual sadness. Discord, however, is happy as can be. He slithers to the throne of the table and snatches a banana from the fruitbowl.

“Good morning, afternoon and evening, my friend," says Discord.

The pegasus returns to his seat with a sigh. “You truly are a god of lies, for I am not your friend, nor is today anything pleasant. It has not been for years.”

Discord unwraps the banana. “Ah, Your Majesty certainly still has a way with pessimism,” he says as he eats the peel. “It has been years since we last talked. I wish you would at least indulge in this wonderful brunch. Or is it lunner? Either way, it wasn’t easy to conjure up.”

“I have half a mind that if I tuck in I’ll become half as mad as you.”

“Oh, come now. A little mercury never hurt anypony. You pegasi like fish, right? Try eating the shark stew, at least before it tries to eat you.”

The pegasus sticks his muzzle into the air, ignoring the draconequus to the best of his abilities.

All of the pegasus’ features remind Caro of a certain somepony that he may have caught a glimpse of as a child, but he can’t quite put a name to that image. The gaping expressions of Shae and Tohro tell him they’re having more luck.

“Oh... Divines...” mutters Tohro.

After giving the pegasus another look over, Caro gapes as well. “It can’t be...” He doesn’t recognize his face or mane, but he does recall his ebony armor and bear hide cloak. Master Hammerfell had told Caro that there is only one set of that armor in existence, and it belonged to Equestria’s high king.

Tohro’s wings give an involuntary flutter. “I see it, but I don’t- I don’t believe it!” he says as he chatters from sheer hysteria. He approaches the pegasus and bows. “I-it is an honor, King Hurricane. Tohro Blackwing at your service. May I kiss your greaves? Please?”

Shae and Caro bow as well, the latter having to force Xephyr onto his knees.

“Who is this?” the zebra asks. “Was there something I missed?”

Caro forces his hoof against Xephyr‘s muzzle. “How it’s even possible is beyond me, but we’re in the presence of the late king of Equestria.”

King Hurricane examines all four of them, looks back and forth, and then to Discord. “Another one of your tricks, mad god? ‘Twas not enough to torture me with your insane ramblings and corrupted wizardry, so you conjured up illusions to drive me further into the pit of insanity?”

Tohro stands back up. “Um, Your Majesty?” He takes a step forward. “Are you well? And seriously, let me kiss your greaves.”

“Um...” The king turns around and gets a closer look at Tohro. “Well, yes... This is very convincing. Hm...”

Discord is relaxing upon the throne, tapping his griffon finger in anticipation.

King Hurricane brushes his goatee, then cocks back his hoof. “Away with ye!” He lands a hit on Tohro's cheek, sending him flying into Caro, who catches the hapless pegasus.

Tohro, despite the broken skin on his muzzle, wears a comical grin. “I’ve just been punched by the greatest warrior in pegasus history. This is every colt’s dream!”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” says Caro as he helps Tohro up, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

The king is backing away slowly, realizing the blood on his hoof is genuine. “Y-you’re real... You’re actually here? How did you-”

Shae, finally breathing regularly, walks up to the king. “Please, Your Majesty, be calm.” She touches him on the cheek, feeling his wrinkles and battle scars. “We’re here to help you.”

As the revelation of seeing genuine flesh and blood ponies washes over King Hurricane and Tohro’s muzzle stops bleeding, the party takes seats around the dinner table, with Caro sitting next to Tohro, and Shae and Xephyr on the opposite side. King Hurricane takes the end seat, while Discord stretches out on his throne, nibbling on a whole roll of gouda.

“I have no doubt in my mind that you’re wondering how you’re speaking to me,” says the king. “Though that does depend on how much you know about me.”

Tohro, wiping his nostrils with a napkin, pipes up. “The reports say you perished under mysterious circumstances. I remember hundreds of pegasi weeping for the loss. 'The bravest and most fearsome pegasus in Equestrian history has taken flight,’ they said.”

Caro nudges Tohro and whispers to him. “Whatever happened to hating the Empire? You drool if the king so much as glances at you.”

"Ah?" Tohro grunts as he touches his hoof to his mouth. He leans over to Caro and whispers, “Just because I hate the Empire doesn’t mean I hate the good king. He invented the art of war, and brought honor to the pegasus race. We’re all quite proud of him.”

“You shouldn’t be,” says the king. “My death was that of a coward’s. I should have fallen on the battlefield like my brethren before me, but I wasn’t granted that luxury. Look.”

The king turns his stalwart body to present one of his large wings. He strains to spread them but they remain glued to his sides.

“I died of grief, misery,” he takes in a breath, as if speaking of this is physically painful, “and hatred. A true pegasus would have gone down flying.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron, Your Depressingness?” asks Discord. He takes flight and gestures to the whole of the desolate forest. “Let’s face it, you’ve been on this rant for, what, more than a decade? I’d say it's about time you gave it a rest, along with the remainder of this empty head of yours! ‘Tis more barren than your wife.”

The king removes himself from the table and slowly walks away. Shae follows in his wake, slowly approaching him as he looks to the foggy sky with his eyes closed. “Ah, mon Platine Peu. How I miss your glistening violet mane, your strikingly natural beauty, exemplified by a sharp wit and a coat that could blind those unworthy to look upon thee...” A tear falls from his cheek. “How I miss you indeed.”

“That was beautiful,” says Shae as she stands beside him. Hurricane jumps a little, turning to look at her. “You truly loved Platinum?” she asks.

The king, still looking into the distance, reached out to touch something invisible. “Marrying her... ‘Twas the only thing I ever accomplished that is worth remembering.”

From the fog embraced grass materializes a ghostly image of two ponies, a white unicorn and a pegasus. It takes a moment for everypony to realize they’re looking at the younger, happier figures of Platinum and Hurricane, before they were known as queen and king of Equestria, before Equestria even existed. Hurricane’s mane carries the colors of the rainbow, and he is clad in a black warrior’s kimono. Platinum wears a flowing white gown that exemplifies her slender figure, making Tohro and Shae's cheeks flush. The king looks upon the scene with melancholy nostalgia.

“Before the Great Blizzard took our hearts, we shared them in a forbidden love like no wordsmith could have ever imagined.”

The past selves of the king and queen are looking into each other’s eyes longingly, never breaking away, not so much as blinking. They share an embrace.

“My love,” says the youthful, oddly childish voice of young Hurricane, “no act of bravery on the battlefield can compare to how much of a risk we are taking. If even a single pony of our tribes were to find out...”

Platinum silences Hurricane’s concerns with a passionate kiss that lasts for a good minute. When their lips separate, all seems well again.

Discord rolls his eyes and pretends to gag himself.

“Our time together will not end in tragedy,” says the image of Platinum. “I feel the day upon which we can announce our courtship to the world grows ever closer. This is not taboo. It is proof that our races can coexist. With my wisdom and your...” her hoof travels down Hurricane’s neck to his chest, “...warrior’s spirit, we will be unstoppable.”

They share another kiss before an elderly colt out of view says in a hushed voice, “We are gathered here in private to join the honorable Commander Hurricane of the pegasi and Her Royal Highness Princess Platinum in forbidden matrimony...”

The Hurricane in the present chuckles. “Grace that minister of Nebula. He took our secret to the grave.”

“That is true love,” says Shae, sighing contently. “I’m a little bit jealous.”

“It is one of the few happy moments I have to share, child.”

“But surely the years following the blizzard were happy. Platinum’s vision came true.”

“As did our dreams.”

The figures shift and melt into a new memory. The image of Hurricane has aged a few years, but his mane is still colorful. He seems to be nervous and euphoric at the same time as he holds Platinum’s hoof and looks out upon an audience of hundreds of ponies from atop a balcony. A pink colt with a magenta mane and beard stands behind them, hopping in place. His bouncing causes his pudding shaped crown to fly off his head, drawing laughter from the audience.

“Is that Chancellor Puddinghead?” asks Tohro as he leans over the table.

“Ah, my favorite of the big three!” says Discord. “He did the one impossible feat I could not back in reality; he made politics fun!”

“I cannot argue with that,” says the king. “Even during the fallout of the Great Blizzard he kept our hopes alive with laughter and song, and he was humble enough to put his title of chancellor aside to become an advisor to me and Platinum.”

Discord teleports, reappearing uncomfortably close to Caro. “If only you had somepony like him. He might have taught you a sense of humor.”

Caro shoves the draconequus away. “Well, he’s dead now, so deal with it.”

“I am just soooooooo happy for you!” chirps the image of Puddinghead as he pulls Hurricane and Platinum into a group hug. “Truly this is the most incredible romance of this millenium!”

Platinum gently pushes Puddinghead away. “Watch the dress, darling. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we must make an announcement to my-” She glances at Hurricane and clears her throat. “Sorry dear, our subjects.”

After sharing a brief kiss, the lovers turn to the audience.

“Citizens of the new nation of Equestria!” shouts Hurricane, “To form the perfect kingdom, the time has come to integrate the three tribes. Unicorns, pegasi and earthwalkers will live side by side, contributing to society and making this kingdom and the world a better place. Such a vision cannot be achieved with war. Our days of conflict are behind us. Today, I declare the Settlement Wars to be over, and announce that Princess Platinum of the unicorns and I, Commander Hurricane of the pegasi...”

The two ponies embrace for everypony to see.

Platinum concludes Hurricane’s words. “...Are deeply, madly in love, and will serve as your married king and queen.”

The audience explodes into cheers of rejoicing and celebration as waves of confetti fall from the windows.

The present Hurricane sighs. “Perhaps it would have been for the best if we had kept our relationship under wraps and ruled as an oligarchy.”

“Why?” asks Caro. “Your subjects seemed okay with your union. Two leaders from separate tribes coming together was a bold step that allowed ponykind to coexist.”

Hurricane’s expression turns grim. “It was a bold step, indeed. Too bold.” The king approaches his younger self, looking upon him with disgust. “You went too far, Hurricane. When you’re in a position of power or not, every action you make has consequences. There will always be somepony that disagrees with you. Even if that pony is your own flesh and-”

The vision is wiped away by a sudden lightning strike. The dinner table, the surrounding forest and the sky warp and bend into maddeningly nonsensical shapes and land masses. Xephyr stops praying and starts outright panicking. Caro has to hold him still.

“Oh dear, Your Majesty!” Discord shouts melodramatically, clutching his cheeks. “It seems all your mewling has become too much of a burden for your mind to bear!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” asks Caro.

“Were you not paying attention, my murderous earthwalker?” Discord taps Caro on the forehead with his knuckles. “It’s only common sense. This place is a visual representation of the late king’s mind...”

Shae interjects, “So it changes to match his mental state?”

“Indeed, and it seems that the king is growing rather peeved.”

King Hurricane is on all fours, clutching his forehead and groaning. “You... damned... fool!”

Tohro and Shae gallop to him but are snatched up by Discord. “I wouldn’t recommend it! The king is very unstable at this time and he could drop a piano on all of your heads, and hilarious as that would be, I’d rather that not happen... yet.”

Caro approaches Discord and gestures to Hurricane. “What will you have us do, then? I thought you told us to help him.”

“You’ve done enough damage for today, I’d wager.”

Discord snaps his griffon fingers, and the chaotic world disappears, replaced with a white void.

Caro, Shae, Tohro and Xephyr stand in silence, still contemplating the strange and unsettling sights they had just witnessed.

“So... that happened,” says Discord.

“The mighty King Hurricane...” Tohro bows his head. “I idolized him, even as a child, and as a Blackwing. To see him reduced to a miserable wreck such as that...”

Caro tousles Tohro’s blonde mane. “We can set him right. No good pony deserves to die unfulfilled.”

“Hypocrisy!” Discord slithers between Caro’s legs. “I’ve peeked into your head while you weren’t looking and what I saw doesn’t exactly match what you said.”

Caro feels Discord’s paw slam down upon his forehead and he sees a disturbing image.

He sees himself, laughing maniacally, bathing in the blood and guts of his enemies. Hundreds upon hundreds of desecrating corpses lay in heaps around him as he falls onto his haunches, eating somepony’s still beating heart...

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” Caro bucks at Discord, who shatters into dust and reforms in front of him. Caro snarls and advances on the mad god with reddening eyes. “Give me my sword, then it will be your heart I consume, if you even have one!”

“Temper, temper! You’ve only proven my point!”

“SO WHAT?!” the earthwalker spits. “I only said a good pony deserves fulfillment. The rest of the scum can rot in a flaming heap-”

“Caro!” shrieks Shae. She pounces on him in a half tackle, half hug. The unicorn is too minuscule to budge him but it does stop his rampage. “Please, stop. He’s only trying to get a laugh.”

Tohro and Xephyr are wide eyed and offset by the Dragonborn’s outburst, and even Discord looks mildly stunned.

Caro returns Shae’s embrace as she squeezes him even tighter. “Sorry...”

Discord, rolling his eyes again from the drama of the moment, snaps his fingers and fades away.

Caro releases Shae and gallops to where the draconequus was standing. “Where are you going? We’re not done here! What about Hurricane? What about our weapons?” He points at Shae. “Her horn!”

Discord’s voice echoes from every direction. “Your means of defense will be returned to you in just a moment, my little ponies. As for Hurricane, I have to go and calm the poor fellow down with a sweetroll or eight. You can all go on your merry way.”

“Is that so? Return us to the cart, then!”

“Actually, given how much I’ve inconvenienced you, Dragonborn, I’m feeling rather generous. I’ll drop you smack dab where you need to be at this moment, at the inconvenience of somepony else.”

With the sound of another snap, everypony’s eyelids involuntarily droop, and their bodies drift off to sleep.

A cold marble floor and the scent of potpourri wakes the group. They open their eyes to see they’re in the center of a circular chamber adorned with vines and stained glass windows.

Caro and Tohro feel heavier. As they wipe the tired from their eyes, they turn their heads and notice Discord, despite being a complete nuisance, did keep his word. Caro’s scimitar and bags are back where they belong, and Tohro does a gleeful skip when he sees his crossbow and wingblades intact. Shae claps her hooves together with an adorable grin as her horn shoots sparks. Xephyr plays a triumphant fanfare on his repaired lute.

“Ahem.”

Everypony turns to the sound of a royal voice. It’s not falsified like Jarl Drake’s, it’s a genuine baroness’ call.

Sitting upon a jewel encrusted throne with gold accents and purple velvet cushions is a unicorn wearing a royal robe that trails along the floor. Her coat is a brilliant white and her violet mane is curled to perfection. Shae’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “Qu-Qu-Queen Pla-”

The high queen raises her hoof to silence the lavender unicorn.

“For every question, there is an answer,” she says. She leans forward and rests her chin on her hooves. “The question in this case being,” her glare intensifies and her royal voice falters, “who the hell are you?"

Caro faces away from her as he feels sweat treading his brow. He doesn’t want to be recognized by the mare that ordered his execution. Shae backs away, Xephyr following suit. Only Tohro doesn’t show any sign of cowardice, standing proud.

The queen continues, switching off between proper and enraged. “The throne room of the Rainbow Palace is spellblocked to all but me and Clover the Clever. How in the hell did you manage to teleport in? If you are assassins, you are all petty excuses for some. I demand an explanation, and maybe I’ll reconsider calling the royal guard!”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” says Tohro with a respectful bow, “my companions and I did not intend to intrude upon your privacy.”

“Is that so? Well, what were your intentions? What were you doing that landed you in my presence?”

“Oh, we were just traveling along on a carriage ride before the equine form of a mad god brought us into another dimension that turned out to be the mind of your late husband who can’t ascend to the next life because he’s incredibly miserable and we may have seen a flashback of you two in a tender embrace and another one of you a few years later post Settlement Wars and then were kicked out because the king threw a hissy fit.”

Queen Platinum inhales, taking in the expositional onslaught, and settles back onto her throne. “I believe you.”