A nostalgic smile crosses Queen Platinum’s cheeks as she looks upon the portrait of her late husband. The oils depict him with a mane that flows in the wind, clad in battle armor underneath a long black cloak. He’s perfect here, frozen in time, away from the tragedies that claimed his happiness and his life.

“Isn’t he magnificent?” asks Platinum. She dabs at her teary eyes with her robes. “Hurricane commissioned the finest artists from the Bard College to capture him at the pinnacle of his youth. They couldn’t have done a finer job, if you ask me.” She strokes her silk scarf as her smile fades. “It’s just so awful... I cannot imagine it, being trapped between life and death in one’s own shattered mind.”

She turns to the doors that lead to her bedroom.

“I was there for him in his final hours, but not when he passed. I merely left the room for a moment, and when I returned...” She sniffs and dabs her eyes again.

“‘To soar up ever higher than any mortal flyer,’” recites Tohro, posing like he were on a stage.

Platinum turns to him and nods. “That’s what the pegasi soldiers chanted when they sent my Hurricane’s body off on a cloud. Funny, I never really asked what it means.”

Tohro looks out a stained glass window depicting a setting sun amongst the clouds. “It’s a bit of an old pegasus proverb. Our kind believes in an afterlife where we fly among the clouds for all of eternity. Deep inside, it’s what we desire most. The way I see it, your husband was so burdened with his misery, whatever the cause, that he couldn’t take flight.”

“That’s why we agreed to help him with passing on,” says Shae. “We can’t very well let the king suffer like this.”

“I thank you all,” says Platinum. “After he died, I was left with a gaping void in my life. I’m not ashamed to admit that the rumors are true...” She chuckles a little, looking aside with red cheeks. “I’m quite unable to have children anymore. To know my husband is at peace would make me a much happier mare.”

Tohro points in Caro’s direction. The earthwalker is pacing as far away from Platinum as equinely possible to avoid recognition. “Actually, you should be thanking him,” says Tohro. “He’s the leader of our little troop, and he’s the one hellbent on setting Hurricane right.”

Caro’s ears droop and his eyes widen as Platinum looks his way. He shoots Tohro a look that says, If I get executed because of this, my lingering spirit will haunt you for eternity and beyond! The pegasus just shrugs.

“Hm, is that so?” asks the queen. She beckons to Caro. “Come on then, young colt. Join us. Don’t be shy.”

Oh sweet Epona, this is it, isn’t it? “Um, no, I’m quite comfortable over here, thank you, I’m fine... How are you?” He grimaces.

“Better, now that you’re here.” Platinum puts her hoof to her lips and whistles.

The sounds of clanking Imperial steel and and armored hoofsteps echo through the hallways of the Rainbow Palace. A small battalion of Imperial soldiers lead by a bulky unicorn approach the group. Tohro recognizes him as the captain of the royal guard and Imperial Legion, Captain Gauntlet. Next to Tangerine, his cunning is the bane of the Blackwings.

Caro keeps one hoof on his scimitar, waiting for the captain to make the first move.

I’m not going to prison again, he thinks, clenching his teeth. Not today, not ever...

“Not a bad weapon for a traveler,” says the captain with a friendly smile. “Doubt it could outdo an Imperial greatsword, though.” He merely tousles Caro’s mussy grey mane and approaches the queen. “You called for us, Your Majesty?”

Caro lets a quiet sigh of relief escape his lips, though part of him is disappointed he won’t get to see blood... No, no. Don’t give Discord the satisfaction.

“Yes, Gauntlet. These ponies,” Platinum gestures to Shae, Tohro and Xephyr, “have accidentally found their way into the Rainbow Palace.”

“Ai, do you want us to escort them from the premises gently or forcefully?”

“Try, not at all,” says the queen. “I wish to reward their audacity. Take them to the guest rooms and have the chefs serve them any food they request, within reason.”

“Oh, well...” The captain falters for a moment, then clears his throat and salutes. “Yes, of course.” He points at Xephyr. “What of the zebra, then?”

Platinum walks up to the captain and stares him down. She somehow appears taller and more intimidating than him, despite being nearly half his size. “I said, these ponies. What is my rule, Gauntlet?”

The captain taps his hoof nervously. “Uh, no cuts, no buts, no coconuts?” he says with a hint of sarcasm.

Platinum snags his tail with her magic. He lets out a pained whinny.

“Try again, sweetie.”

“Aye, okay! Zebras count as ponies!”

Tohro cocks an eyebrow. “Seriously, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Xephyr stands on his hind legs and repeatedly shakes his forelegs and head. “No, oh no, I must go. I’d rather keep my time in Everfree low. You understand, though?” he asks with a brief bow to the queen.

“I know relations between ponies and zebras are... tense, to say the least, but this isn’t the sort of offer I make every day,” says Platinum.

“Your honor is most generous, I know, but I still insist I go. I’d hate to make your guards uncomfortable, so...” Xephyr bows again and awkwardly gallops away, stumbling past the guards and babbling in his native tongue. Before he darts around the corner, he says, “I hope our paths cross again, Caro~!”

Platinum does a double take, then puts on a less pleasant smile. Something tells Dragonrein that the queen is not as happy as she lets on.

Divines dammit, Xephyr! curses Caro.

“Change of plans, Gauntlet,” she says as she rests her hoof on Gauntlet’s shoulder. “Take the pegasus and unicorn to their rooms, with the food and whatnot. You leave Caro of Riverhoof to me...”

~Caro~

Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT, Xephyr!

I know I shouldn’t blame the young zebra. It was a mere slip of the tongue on his part, or at least I hope it was. I would hate to live in a world where Tohro’s prejudice towards Xephyr is deserved.

If anything, this is Discord’s doing. He knows I’m a wanted felon. He knows the sick murderer that lies underneath my coat. He knew it would just make my day to smack me dead center in the middle of Everfree, right in front of Queen Platinum herself. What a qwim.

As for the queen, she’s another matter entirely. It’s much more difficult to despise her when I’m standing in her presence. I almost felt sorry for her when she was pining over the portrait of Hurricane. Almost. Part of me still remembers what she did to me and what her Empire has done to those around me. To Tohro. To Jade.

"I apologize on Gauntlet's behalf," says Platinum, disconcertingly casual despite the circumstances. "He is quite under stress, working as a captain of the guard and as a stand-in for our previous general. Poor dear."

I couldn't care less about any of that. “If you’re going to make another attempt on my neck, I don’t think that’s going to work out for either of us,” I say.

“I’m not going to do anything. All I ask is that you follow,” the queen responds. She gestures to the staircase leading back to her throne room and begins walking. She stops at the first step and looks to me. “Well?”

I look down the hall on both sides, and outside to the courtyard. Hardly a soldier in sight.

I give Platinum my best intimidating glare with a smirk, though she remains unfazed. “Tell me, what’s stopping me from galloping away right now?”

“Nothing in particular, but...” Her horn gives off an elegant cyan glow. “This old mare is a mage in her twilight years. You physically driven warrior types eventually lose your youth, and your finesse in the defensive arts with it. Mages, however, never quite lose their magical prowess. I can name at least twenty spells off the top of my head that would put any escape of yours to an anticlimactic end.”

I recall when Shae engaged her magical overdrive and slaughtered countless gryphon thieves. It’s not in my best interest to be at the receiving end of anything a mare many times her age can pull off.

I tilt my sheathe, making sure the queen gets a good of my scimitar as I make a bluff. “What’s stopping me from cutting you down where you stand?”

She merely shrugs and continues up the stairs. “I’ve survived worse.”

I’m finding her increasingly more difficult to hate.

When we return to the throne room, one of the stained glass windows catches my eye, as well as the midday sunlight. It’s a image of Platinum and Hurricane standing at the balcony, announcing their secret marriage to the populus. After seeing the event for myself in Hurricane’s mind, any attempt to recreate it seems juvenile. Almost as juvenile as Former Chancellor Puddinghead himself...

“I have a few questions for you, Caro of Riverhoof,” says the queen as she sits upon the throne. “Let us not ignore the minotaur in the room. First, I wish to know why you murdered over forty innocent ponies and destroyed the Reinoc marketplace.”

“You know what my answer is.”

“Yes, but I wish to hear it from you personally, and I will not refute it.”

I take a deep breath. Of all the places to lose my patience, it cannot be here. “I didn’t do it.”

I expect her to call me a liar or tell me That’s what a guilty colt would say! but she only nods. “And, if that is true, why didn’t you testify before your execution?”

I give an angry laugh. “Because nopony would have believed me. Most still don’t. And even my words meant a damn to the Legion, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“I would appreciate it if you’d avoid use of foul language in this palace,” says Platinum, though it sounds more like a formality than a genuine grievance.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit,” I say, with particular emphasis to rub salt on the wound. “Do you want your answers or not?”

Platinum faces away from me. I know she’s at least a little intimidated, but that doesn’t cut through her stoicism. “If you didn’t do it, than who did?”

This conversation seems very familiar. “A dragon,” I say bluntly.

The queen doesn’t even hold her breath. “Uh-huh.” She clicks her tongue. “Do not take me for a fool, Caro of Riverhoof. Dangerous as dragons can be, they are very docile creatures. They pass overhead every now and again, which is a welcome sight for bird watchers, but they do not attack villages. If you were to place the blame on something with more grounds for belief, I would have recommended the Sisterhood of Shadows. The day they took control of New Pegasopolis, the city was unrecognizable.”

“How could you believe for a moment that I alone decimated Reinoc? I’m just one earthwalker. It could only have been a dragon! Isn’t it obvious?”

“You were the one holding the sword. You were the one drenched in blood-”

“Dragon’s blood.”

“-while speaking in a foreign tongue-”

“Draconic.”

“-and clutching the severed torso of a stallion-”

“Shut up!” I roar. I buck at the stained glassed window, shattering it into pieces. I feel the sting of glass shards in my legs but I ignore them. Common sense has no meaning to me. Platinum has crossed the line. Royalty be damned, I will not have her speak of Master Hammerfell’s death so casually.

She jumps from her throne and cautiously approaches me. “Caro of Riverhoof, please calm down-”

“I said shut up!” I shove her away. She stares in shock as if she hasn’t been touched in years, which she probably hasn’t. “I lost everything I loved in a blink of an eye and the only comfort I got was a jail cell and a death sentence! Whose fault is that, huh?!”

I’m a muzzle’s length away from Platinum’s face. I’m fully prepared to scream at her some more until she begs me to stop, until I notice her lip quivering and her eyes beginning to water. I back away and spare her another earful.

“Well?” I ask quietly.

~Vision End~

Shae gallops to the balcony of the astronomy tower. The marble floors are so smooth she can’t get a grip and slides into the railing, getting an eyeful of the palace gardens hundreds of feet below. Tohro pulls her down, laughing at her misfortune.

“Getting a tad excited, are we?”

Shae clutches her stomach, having gotten the wind knocked out of her a little from the impact. She finds herself laughing too.

“This is just... well, amazing! When Discord dropped us here, I knew in an instant where we were, but it’s only just sinking in...” She merrily hops around Tohro, squealing like a schoolfilly, which, Tohro has to remind himself, she is. “I’m! In! The! Rainbow! Palace!” she chants with every bound. “This is the epicenter of magical enterprise and creation. The court wizards here invent new spells every week, and I can see them firsthoof! I could learn new spells before they even reach the academy! I can learn them before Headmaster Frosthelm himself! Do you have any idea how jealous Lancer, Sundance and Eavesdrop are going to be?!”

At that note, her cheery and childish grin turns into a frown. She looks at her reflection in the marble.

“The pass to Wintercolt will closed by now, won’t it?”

Gauntlet, who had taken it upon himself to chaperone Shae and Tohro on a tour throughout the palace, taps his hoof. “Our scouts were given the order just yesterday. By tomorrow, traveling by hoof will be impossible.” He salutes begrudgingly and takes leave.

Shae stomps. “Damn...”

Tohro brushes Shae with his wing. “Hey,” he says with a wink. “I can always carry you there.”

Her adorable smile returns. “Really? You’re the best!” She nuzzles him, and quickly retracts in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

Tohro shrugs. “I wasn’t complaining.” He relaxes his hooves on the railing and lets the wind blow through his blonde mane.

He stares off into the limestone buildings of Everfree. It clearly is a city made for Platinum. The houses are decorated with violet drapery. Magically charged lanterns float in the streets, though they’re unlit at this time of day, and the streets themselves are literally paved with gold. The river that flows through the entire city is so clean and clear that it may as well be made of gemstones.

“All this adornment is going to give me a headache.”

“Why?” asks Shae.

“It’s too bloody clean!” Tohro waves his hoof out in thin air. “I bet Caro would get a kick out of it, though. Come to think of it, given how little he thinks of the Empire, he’d probably love and hate it at the same time. No need for soap here, mate!”

Shae looks over the balcony to the windows of the throne room, and notices one of them is shattered. “Oh dear.”

“What is it?”

Shae points to the broken window.

Tohro rolls his eyes. “Oh, Caro, Caro, Caro... What have you gotten yourself into?”

“You don’t think he’ll try to kill her?”

“He couldn’t if he tried. I may not respect the queen, but she’s one powerful broad.” Tohro sits back against the railing. “Here’s a touching story. Once upon a time a Blackwing assassin called Featherscythe shot a crossbow bolt right at Queen Platinum’s head.” He motions to his forehead. “Right between the eyes. And you know what she did? She just pulled it out. Didn’t even fall down, hell, she didn’t even flinch!”

Shae’s eyes are so wide Tohro can see the decorative gemstones in her whites. “How is that- what happened to Featherscythe?”

Tohro laughs and imitates the motion of several arrows flying through the air and landing in his chest. “That crazy ass queen used a duplication spell on the arrow and turned Featherscythe into a pincushion!”

Shae remains entirely silent.

“Well, how else should I react to it?” Tohro hops to his hooves. “It’s been years. We’ve moved on. I mean, well, they’ve moved on.” He points to his scarred eye. “I can’t exactly say ‘we’ when I’m not a part of the ‘we’ any longer.”

“You must know I feel, then,” says Shae as she retreats back inside. Tohro follows in flight. “We’re both miles away from home with no clue where to go or what to do. Actually, I think I’ve got the better end of the deal, because I’ve at least got a home to return to. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. You must miss your friends terribly.”

Tohro nickers and takes a spot on a cushion in the corner of the room. “Who said I had many friends in the Blackwings?”

“Well, I just assumed that-”

“Shae, there’s a difference between friends and comrades that hump each other into oblivion every night.”

The lavender unicorn is left stupefied. All she can mutter is, “What?”

Tohro lies down on the cushion and looks to the ceiling. It has been painted with every known constellation, all of which Shae can name off the top of her head. A perfect recreation of the night sky in a small room. “Every night?” she asks.

“Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration.” Tohro turns over to face Shae. His face carries a hint of regret. “Let’s face it, no matter how glorious we pegasi make it out to be, war is hell. Sometimes, all we need is somepony to cuddle up with risking our necks for the future of Equestria. I guess Shokenda understands that much about us. That’s why she allows casual sex amongst the soldiers.” His cheeks flush as he recalls some of his more passionate encounters. “I enjoyed the privilege with a vengeance.”

Shae seems simultaneously sickened and fascinated. “Did you and Shokenda-”

“Shut up!” Tohro snaps, suddenly boasting beads of sweat. “Just... Beautiful as she is, she’s... Bloody hell, Shae, I’m scared of her. Even before she bucked me out of the Blackwings she terrified me. There’s just...” He wipes the sweat from his brow. “It’s in the past.”

Shae sits on the cushion adjacent to the sweating pegasus, brushing his mane in an attempt to comfort him. “If it’s such a sensitive topic, we don’t have to talk about it.”

Tohro shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “As time went on, the sex became more and more routine. I’d complete a reconnaissance mission, assist in a skirmish, perhaps pull off an assassination, then I’d return to base, get royally hammered, fuck a fellow soldier or three and then go to bed. It quickly turned into a chore. I felt more alone than ever post coitus, no matter how many mares or colts I brought into the bedroom. The only thing that kept me in the Blackwings was their mission. Overthrow the Empire and make Equestria a safer place. Now, well...” He points to his eye again. "I stopped believing."

Shae is at a loss for words. All she can do is continue to comfort Tohro with her gentle touch.

The somber pegasus gazes at Shae. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes, anything,” she says.

“Are you a virgin?”

Shae’s cheeks are struck red. She covers them up and turns away. “Why would you even ask that?” She peeks back at her friend. “Also, yes...”

Tohro shrugs and takes flight again. “I was just curious. Just, uh, promise me you’ll keep this in mind...”

“Yes?”

Tohro narrows his eyes and folds his forelegs. “Please, if you ever give yourself away to anyone, make sure it’s somepony who genuinely cares about you.”

With that, he takes off into the Everfree marketplace to be in the company of strangers that won’t ask questions, and leaves Shae with more than ever.

~Tohro~

I’m just going to put this in words even a simple one can understand.

There is a rift in Equestria, one that time cannot heal. The Platinum Empire, a beacon of strict order and regimen, versus the Blackwings, a group of freedom fighters who know they can do better. If you’ve picked a side, good for you. If you’re neutral, Divines help you. This civil war has been going on for almost a decade now, and everywhere you look there is somepony who has been struck over the head by its cruelty.

Except here.

Maybe it’s my scarred eye, but I’ve never seen a city so peaceful. Sure, Ivarstable’s a safe haven for Blackwings and Trottingham is a refuge for anypony sick and tired of war, but tensions are still ludicrously high, even within their borders, and there’s always the threat of attack. This place... It’s as if Discord dropped us in a dimension where the war doesn’t even exist. If it weren’t for Queen Platinum’s war propaganda, which is apparently just a bunch of banners saying ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’, then I’d think the mad god actually did do such a thing.

Well, regardless, ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ seems to be working wonders for these upper class ponies. While most citizens of other towns are content with a few layers of robes and scarves, a single commoner from Everfree wears enough jewelry to give a Diamond Dog an erection.

Such foul thoughts cloud my mind, for I am deeply concerned for Caro. The Blackwing part of me wants to return to the Rainbow Palace, fly through the broken window and drop kick the queen so I can carry my best friend off into the sunset. I have to keep reminding myself that the Blackwing part of me is dead, and I’m just another subject of the queen’s at this point.

It’s not easy to let go of. I want to, from the bottom of my heart, for Caro and Shae. They’ve become more important to me than the Blackwings in just a manner of days. That’s the kind of bond you form after a life threatening struggle or two in the Equestrian highlands. To tell the truth, even if Shokenda hadn’t forced me out, I would have left eventually if it meant their safety. Now I’m endangering them. If a Blackwing ever sees my eye, well, that could be it for us. Journey over.

The Blackwing side of me also has a lot of resentment for this city, despite the beauty radiating from its smooth architecture and dirtless streets. Shokenda brainwashed me into hating these ponies for being so high above the rest of the rubble, but really, why should I? They’re living comfortable lives, away from the war, protected by the Imperial Legion at every corner and intersection. Combine that with a beautiful and fertile forest with enough fruit to satisfy a pony named Glork the Gluttonous, and you have a paradise. Perhaps Shokenda’s theory is that resentment comes from jealousy, and I will admit, I’m guilty of the latter, but if these ponies are lucky enough to live in peace, I shouldn’t just outright hate them. It’s not their fault there are those less fortunate.

Maybe this place is the Empire’s definition of perfect, but there is always a shred of misfortune to be found, such as this young orange earthwalker colt I eye from across the fruit stand in the marketplace. He sticks out like a sore thumb, looking all sorrowful and exhausted while the commoners surrounding his bench are talking enthusiastically in snooty accents I’m sure they’re faking.

I flutter over to the lad to see what’s the matter. “Why the long face, little one?” I ask.

This one can’t be much older than seven. He looks up to me. He doesn’t even jump at the sight of my eye. First time that’s happened. “What do you want?” he asks back, although I’m sure it’s less of a question more telling me to piss off.

I take a seat next to him on the marble bench. “I was just purchasing a basketful of fruit and I see a poor kid looking like he’s not enjoying the festivities of this fine city.”

The kid scoots as far from me as possible and faces away. “You wouldn’t be so happy if your family was being torn apart by the Empire.”

Oh dear. Even within its territory, the Empire isn’t trusted by some. This would please Shokenda. “Well, I’m listening. What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” mutters the boy.

“Alright, then.”

Not a second passes when the boy turns back to me and says, “It’s not fair, you know? Why is it fair for them to just walk in and take big brother away? It’s not fair, is it mister?”

This one asks a lot of questions. “Well, of course it isn’t fair, assuming he didn’t do anything.”

“He didn’t do anything. I asked the guards why they put a bag over big brother’s head and dragged him to jail but they told me to bugger off. Then I asked Mum and Dad and they told me to go back to bed.”

Another random arrest. I recall being on a jailbreak mission to a small compound in the north where a few prisoners were getting transferred. Every single one of them were just good hearted citizens put under arrest for no apparent reason, other than something on their record having to do with the Blackwings. ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’. What a joke. This kid has every reason to shed angry tears.

I tousle his bowl cut mane. “It’s going to be okay, son. You’ll see.” I hope I’m not lying. “What’s your name?”

The boy wipes his muzzle. “I’m Treesap. Uh, I live at the bakery.”

I glance below the boy’s vest to see his mark, a single sweetroll. “Ah. My name is Tohro.” I offer him my hoof but he doesn’t take it. Instead, my dirtied leather armor and stains catch his eye.

“Are you an adventurer?” he asks, closing in on me and examining my equipment. “You are, aren’t you? I can tell. You’ve got a crossbow!”

“Oh, this old thing?” I equip the crossbow and let the kid get a good look. “I nicked it off Ezio, the leader of the Thieves Guild.”

“You fought the Thieves Guild?”

“Yes indeed!”

~Vision End~

~Shae~

“I will have your attention, earthwalkers and pegasi of Everfree! I am but a humble commoner who hath been exposed to a greater truth! The truth being that we must rise against the unicorns! We are sitting ducks for their witchcraft and black magic so long as they hold the throne!”

I haven’t gone so much as half a block past the gates of the Rainbow Palace when I hear the incessant cries of some scrawny old earthwalker in the middle of the intersection. I turn the corner and see her standing atop an empty cider barrel. I guess she has been ranting like this for some time. She’s already gathered an audience, albeit a small one. They all look as ragged as her.

“The unicorns are the ones responsible for every war since the days ponies first rose from the ashes of the Precursors! It was Platinum’s greed and sorcery that brought the Great Blizzard and destroyed the old kingdom, and now she commands us all!”

The preacher pony’s voice escalates with every sentence, drawing just as many followers as hecklers. Any unicorns that pass by simply snort or nicker and walk away.

“You there!” The preacher calls out a squad of pegasus soldiers. They all look her way with annoyance. “You are all possessed! Open your eyes and join us in our battle cry! Rise against the unicorn race’s oppression!”

“Our eyes are open, lady,” says one of the soldiers, “and the view is not pleasant.”

The squad shares unified laughter before instantly returning to their stoic selves at their leader’s command.

The preacher is not amused. “See how they walk and stand in perfect coordination? That is a sure sign they have fallen under the influence of the unicorns! Them and their so-called Fae. Praise Dragos, for she will bring destruction upon this land and the unicorns will be the first to be sacrificed!”

I grit my teeth. Fauste notwithstanding, the Fae is like a deity, and that deity lends me its strength every waking minute for my magical ability. I can’t stand idly by and let this broad insult it, or my race.

“What are you yammering on about?!” I yell as I levitate her and her perch towards me. “The Fae has existed since the beginning of time itself! Unicorn magic is a basic part of life-”

The preacher turns my way and interrupts. “Oh, yes! That red cloak! You must be one of that heathen academy’s most educated witches, huh?!”

Heathen academy?!

“I prefer the term mage! And my home is no home of heathens. You’re... You’re the heathen!”

“You have no right to speak in the realm of Dragos, harlot! You must deeply enjoy the sick pleasures your witchcraft has brought you.” The preacher thinks she has me on the ropes of this argument. She grits her sickly yellow teeth. She reminds me of a draugr, only much less pleasant.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am proud! Magic is a sacred art and you’re besmirching it with your... besmirching!” My vocabulary is faulty. I blame Discord for disorienting me.

“Ahah!” The preacher hops off her perch and points an unhealthily skinny foreleg at me. “See?! Seeeee?! The Fae has corrupted your mind. You can’t even put a decent sentence together! Witch!”

The other zealots begin to swarm around the preacher and volley more insulting words my way.

“Hag!”

“Sorceress!”

“Cultist!”

I swear, I am about to scream again, triggering another overdrive, and if what I did to those gryphons is just a sample of what I can- Wait, the gryphons... Oh, Fauste, did I kill them?! Fauste’s horn! It’s only just occurred to me, I killed them. There must have been, what, seven, no, ten... I killed more than ten gryphons with a single overdrive! I spilled blood and never even had a second thought of it!

“Witch! Get out of here!”

I realize that, just maybe, calling me such a thing may not be a stretch too far from the truth. I’m the only student from Wintercolt Academy with red on my hooves... I need to see Caro. I turn tail and gallop as fast as possible from the crazed hag cursing my existence.

So this is what Mother and Father were trying to protect me from...

~Vision End~

~Caro~

"I was only doing what I thought was right... Now that I know what happened I... I guess an apology isn't enough?"

I wince as another shard of stained glass is removed from my leg. If one were to tell my past self I'd eventually be lying on my stomach, receiving medicinal treatment from the same mare that imprisoned me... I don't even know what I'd do.

“You think?” I grunt.

“Regardless, I have to say it...” says Platinum as she fetches a new cloth to clean the blood. “I am so, so sorry.”

At this point, I’m just stunned that she believed my every word when I told her about Nahkriin’s massacre on Reinoc. I did leave out anything having to do with my draconic lineage, lest I be accused of insanity.

I glance at her, in an attempt to confirm what I thought I saw earlier. I know a face of remorse when I see it, and Platinum wears one, plain and simple.

"If you were in my position, Caro, you would understand. The needs of the many always outweigh the needs of the few." She sighed. "Nonetheless, that's no excuse for how my guards treated you."

I find myself sighing too. I thought I'd be more satisfied, throwing Platinum's act of cruelty in her face, but now that I've seen how far gone she's become since the good king's death, and how truly sorry she seems, all of my desires seem petty.

"At any rate, I am perfectly willing to make it up to you. It's the least I can do for you and your friends helping my husband."

My eyes widen. A favor from the queen herself, I think. I can finally have my innocence, my freedom, everything I've fought for achieved in an instant. She’s the bloody queen. She could announce my innocence to the entire kingdom and there's not a damn thing any soldier can do about it!

"I..." I swallow and catch my breath. "Jarl Drake needs your help."

I cringe as I feel the last shard yanked forcefully from my lower leg. I guess I caught Platinum by surprise. Platinum takes a step back, looking pensive. "Her? The one who cost me hundreds of soldiers?"

I didn't fully comprehend that right away. "I guess you were expecting me to ask for something else-" Then it hits me. “Hundreds? What happened?”

Platinum shakes her head. "Oh, I won't bore you with the details, but... suffice to say... she's... not really one I keep in contact with."

"B-But, she..." I stammer over having that ball dropped upon me. "Okay, but she personally asked me and friends to come to you. I didn't like it, but everypony else insisted. Shokenda Blackwing is preparing for an attack on Trottingham. Jarl Drake believes that the Empire can win this war if you send troops and fight back against the rebels." I realize how foolish that request sounds, given the circumstances. "But if she cost you soldiers in the past, then there's no way you'd..."

Platinum raises a hoof to silence me. "At this juncture, I don't think I have anything left to lose. If she doesn't cost me troops, the Blackwings will, so... How many, Caro?”

“Jarl Drake didn’t specify, but I guess anything you can spare would be helpful.” I scratch my head. "Please?" I add hastily.

"We're stretched thin as it is." Platinum sighs, turning to look out the hole where the window once was. "If it were anypony else asking I would refuse, but despite everything Jarl Drake has done, I trust her, and I trust you." She turns to look me in the eye. "Don't make me regret that trust."

One act of kindness towards her husband is enough to make her forgive a crime I didn’t commit? This day has turned out more fortunate than I expected. A feeling of genuine pride in my accomplishment fills my chest. Just one loose end remains, something I feel obligated to say.

"There's something else I should tell you, though. Shokenda Blackwing. There's a reason she wants to assault Trottingham."

Platinum cocks a brow. "If it's to kill the so called jarl... I don't blame her."

"It's not,” I say. “She wants me."

The queen chuckles. "Well, given my initial impression of you... I can see why."

Insulted by Queen Platinum herself. I should be honored. Regardless, she has a right to know what I am. If she believed Tohro about Hurricane, and me about Reinoc, then the fact that I’m Dragonborn won’t be too hard to comprehend.

"It goes deeper than that. Shokenda sees me as a tool to her success, because I'm-"

My voice is drowned out by an ear-splitting roar, followed by a crash.

The wall above the throne crumbles and the surrounding windows are reduced to shambles. I rise and charge into Queen Platinum, slamming her to the ground. I use myself as a shield for the falling debris. Remains of the wall impact upon the marble floor, leaving craters. Aside from a few glass flakes and dust, nothing lands on me or the queen.

“Are you alright?” I ask when the chaos comes to an end.

Platinum doesn’t seem the least bit frazzled. “Of course I am. Right as rain.” She brushes me off and stands without falter, fixing her robes and her hair. She turns to me. “How about I put the kettle on? A cup for me, one for you,” she points to the fractured wall, “and one for your friend over there?”

“No, thank you. I do not care much for pony drink.”

I am overcome with dread in an instant. I can recognize that booming voice anywhere. I slowly turn around and stare in awe at the head of a horned red dragon poking through where the wall used to be. I instinctively stand in front of the queen, ready for anything this beast can dish out.

“I do hope I am not interrupting anything,” says the dragon. “I have traveled here seeking the one who killed my good friend, Nahkriin. One of your kind saw fit to put a sword through her head, and I must tell them how incredibly despicable that is. If you could point me in their general direction, I would be most appreciative.”

I retrieve my scimitar and grip the handle in my teeth. I slip into draconic for a moment. “Gaar loka sol paaz,” I growl. I charge to the remains of the throne, kick off from the cushion and latch on to the dragon’s snout. I have to tighten my grip as he keeps talking.

“Oh my. I never thought I would come across the Dovahkiin so early in my journey. I thank you for making my job all the easier. Would you mind letting go of me so I may painlessly exterminate you?”

I swing myself over the dragon’s mouth and land on top of its snout. It crosses its eyes to glare at me, and I glare back.

“Your politeness is beginning to piss me off,” I say, pointing my sword between his eyes. “GET MAD!” I slash at his horn, cleaving it in two.

I leap from the beast’s snout as he roars in pain, bringing his claws to his forehead to grasp his broken horn.

Whilst in mid-air, I shout, “FUS RO DAH!!” sending the dragon careening back outside. It catches itself and spreads its wings.

Now that I have a full view of the dragon, I can see that its arms, legs and tail are reinforced with razor sharp spikes. If he gets a good swing at me, that’s the end of it. Not that I’ll ever let it happen. I jump out the window, ignoring Platinum’s protests and her demand to know what the hell is going on.

~Vision End~

Shae and Caro brush past each other as they gallop through the royal gardens. They both slide to a stop.

“I’ve been looking for you!” shouts Shae. She’s absent minded, not paying any attention to the soldiers taking up arms and escorting the palace servants to safety. “I have to ask you someth-”

Caro grabs her wither. “Shae, I will listen to anything you have to say, and I’ll answer any question, but for now, there’s a bloody dragon assaulting the castle!” He points his sword at the red beast as it tears through every window of the gardenside passage in a single swing of his arm. It bludgeons a servant across the head and scoops up another, severing her in two with its teeth.

“You can sit this one out,” Caro suggests to Shae, who is blinking rather fast.

The lavender unicorn swallows her fear and shock and puts on a courageous face. “No, no. I can do this. I will do this. No more lazing around while the big ponies do all the dirty work.” Her horn sparks as she crouches into a battle stance. “Let us show that monster the power of Dragonrein!”

“That’s my mare.” Brandishing his sword, Caro gallops to the dragon.

The beast takes perch one of the garden’s stone pillars, gnawing on the lower half of the servant. It licks its claws clean with its forked tongue. “These royal types of ponies are most delectable. Not quite as filthy as the rest of you, not that I mean to assume all of you have dirt upon your coats. I hope you don’t take offense.”

“Been hearing that phrase a lot lately. One only says ‘no offense’ if they know it’ll offend someone, and I have to say, I’m pretty fucking offended!”

“You need not be so foul, Caro Dovahkiin.”

A sudden feeling of weightlessness overcomes Caro. He becomes enveloped in Shae’s magenta aura.

“I’ll send you right to it,” Shae says, eyes closed in concentration. “Can’t do this for too long, though. You’re a heavy one.” Her horn’s glow escalates in strength.

Caro kicks off from the floral ground. The aura pushes him ever higher, giving out just as he lands on the pillar at the dragon’s feet.

“Down here!” he yells. He dodges left as the dragon attempts to flatten him with his calloused foot, followed by the other. Caro jumps onto the foot. The dragon attempts to kick Caro away. Caro holds on, and then uses the thrusting as a trampoline, leaping off the foot, right into the dragon’s chest. He digs his hooves into the scales and hacks away with the scimitar, only to be thrown backwards by the impact. His swings don’t leave so much as a scratch. He falls back into the gardens.

He braces for a rough landing, but he finds his descent slowed by the aura. His back still hits the ground hard enough to warrant a pained grunt.

“Sorry, sorry!” Shae hops to his side, retrieving a vial of healing potion and shoving it into his mouth. He drains it all in two gulps, and the aching begins to fade.

“His chest is armored,” says Caro. “We’ll have to-” He stops himself and grabs Shae, rolling over as a cold blue flame strikes the tree nearest them. The bark is turned to ice and the leaves are glazed over with frost, the surrounding grass lying frozen.

The dragon snorts, traces of ice hanging on its lips and nostrils.

Shae hops to her hooves, shivering from the blast of cold. “I don’t think this is your average fire breathing dragon,” she says as she brushes frost from her overcoat. She pulls her hood over her head for warmth. “On the other hoof...”

Her horn becomes surrounded by flames. She casts a precision fireball that homes in on the dragon, striking it in the shoulder. Its scales flake off in flaming scraps and its skin becomes like burning coals. It bellows, trying to mend the wound with its ice breath.

Shae clenches her teeth in a moment of pride. “Fire works well!”

Caro nickers. “Of course it works well! Since when does it not-”

“WULD NAH KEST!” shouts the dragon. A gold aura surrounds it. Caro and Shae are knocked off their feet, the former getting slammed into the frozen tree. The dragon tears through the entire garden, sending flower petals soaring and glazing it in frost.

Shae is shivering. She shakes off more flakes from her coat. “What was that shout?”

“Don’t know that one,” says Caro. “Also, this is potentially problematic.”

Shae turns around. “What is poten- Oh, Fauste!”

Caro grunts in pain, straining to get loose from a branch he’s become impaled upon. Blood begins draining rapidly from the wound in his lower back.

“Hold on, hold on...” Shae mutters, doing her best not to seep into panic. She levitates Caro’s scimitar to the branch and cuts it clean off from the tree. Caro lands face first on the ground, struggling to stand. He coughs, staining the frost beneath him red.

“Ya- Yank it out...” he gasps, eyes bulging with visible veins. He glares at Shae. “Do it!”

Shae reluctantly nods and moves her aura to the branch. She shuts her eyes and pulls, apologizing profusely under her breath. “Sorry, sorry, I am so sorry, sorry...”

The branch comes cleanly out, but Caro still howls in pain before forcing his mouth shut. “Piss...” he chokes out.

Blood begins flowing in small rivers through the flowers, which are crushed when the dragon’s barbed hand comes down upon them. It lets out a bloodcurdling roar.

“Death by way of a tree. Such an unfortunate way to go. I apologize your death will not be more honorable.”

Caro stares the dragon down with a look of pure loathing. “You can take your honor and sh...” He becomes dizzy and upchucks what little he has in his stomach, as well as more blood.

The dragon doesn’t pay Shae any mind as she cradles Caro in her forelegs, still muttering, “Sorry...”

“Well met then, Caro Dovahkiin. I will be on my way. Do spend your last moments reflecting on your glorious battle with Hevnodiin. That is I.”

The dragon flexes its wings, sending a brief gust of wind through Shae’s black mane, and it takes flight. As it flies out of sight, a triumphant roar can be heard.

“Cocky freak of nature...” Caro sits up, clutching his gash. “It’ll take much more than that to kill...” His eyes go askew for a moment and he falls back into Shae’s embrace.

“Actually, I think you’re done here.”

Shae lays Caro up against the frozen tree. She begins to trace his wound with her horn, a fresh batch of healing magic tending to the torn flesh. Caro groans and thrashes as he feels his body repair itself.

Shae pauses her healing to bring her face to Caro’s. “Try thinking of something else to distract yourself,” she says.

Caro faces away from her as she resumes her work, closing his eyes and losing himself in a mental projection of times long lost.

~Caro~

“Here’s what is going to happen,” says Master Hammerfell, brandishing a wooden training sword, “I am going to attack. You decide what happens next.”

I clumsily handle my own wooden sword, unable to get a grip with my hooves. It clutters to the ground while I’m left looking like a total foal with my hooves swinging in the air like I just don’t care. I shrug, settling for gripping the handle of the sword with my teeth.

Yes, this is familiar. The first time I ever wielded a sword.

I never actually asked for this. My passion lies with the heat of the forge, crafting weapons for the better suited adventurers and soldiers to take into the field. I’ve never been one to actually consider using a sword for myself. Regardless, Master doesn’t teach me anything without a reason. I hold the wooden substitute steady as Master brushes the grass with his hooves.

The silence of the forest is broken only by the adjacent stream as we stare each other down.

“Come at me, Master!” I yell.

My master is large and muscular, and on top of the iron armor he wears whenever he sets foot outside I hardly expect him to gallop so fast. He thrusts his sword into my forelegs, knocking me down in a single blow. I hold back a cry of pain, biting my lip and dropping my weapon.

Master laughs out loud. “See, were this an actual duel, your legs would be long gone by now, if not bleeding profusely.”

“Excellent, Master,” I say through my teeth, “that makes the splinters seem so much less painful by comparison. Thank you.”

Master responds with a click of his tongue. “No sarcasm, little duck.” He lightly swipes my ear with my own sword and hoofs it over. I begrudgingly take it in my mouth. “Again.”

“Wait, Master. I need to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if- AGH!” I’m struck on my right side. I breath through the sting and continue. “When was the last time you heard from my mother and father?”

Master swings at my legs again. This time I lift them out of danger and push Master away. His hulking figure doesn’t budge too far. I swing at him, and he sidesteps, knocking my sword aside with a kick. It lands in the bushes nearby the stream. As I clumsily go to retrieve it, Master flourishes his false weapon, tossing in the air and catching it on his back.

“Your parents are still fighting the war, faithful and strong to Queen Platinum and the Empire.”

“I know, but beyond that...” I stretch out my hindquarters and return uphill. “I mean, where are they now? What have they been doing?”

Master tousles my mane, giving me a reassuring smile. “If you’re worried about them, you shouldn’t be. They are in the very capable hooves of Jarl Drake.”

“They’re in Trottingham?”

Master’s response is a sudden swipe at my head. I duck it, followed by a roll to the side when he brings the sword down. Overcome with adrenaline, I forgo use of my sword and leap into the air, slamming my hoof into Master’s wrinkled face so hard he faces away. I land on my hind legs, panting through a toothy grin of satisfaction. I slowly lose it as Master glares at me, blood draining from his muzzle.

I put my hooves down and bow. “I’m sorry, Mas-” I’m interrupted by his triumphant laughter and another affectionate gesture to the head.

“That’s how you think outside the box, kiddo.” He wipes himself clean. “I think there’s a warrior within you that’s trying to break out.”

I nod several times in thanks as Master hands me his wooden sword. “I appreciate the thought, Master, but I’d rather work the forge.”

Master raises an eyebrow, as if he doubts that statement. “Is that so?” He tosses me a towel from his satchel. “Clean yourself up. You’re sweating like a Saddle Arabian dancer.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, sir,” I say, running the cloth across my face.

“As for your parents, yes, they are in Trottingham.”

“Fantastic! I’d like to pay them a visit.” I pause with my cleaning as I realize something. “That won’t happen.”

“I’m afraid not, little one.” Master drapes his foreleg around my neck. I lean into it, comforted despite the chill of the iron gauntlets.

I break contact and make way for the Ironwright Forge. Despite the disappointment hanging on my shoulders, I keep a straight face.

“The letter I received told me the Imperial Legion is preparing for a large scale invasion of the Blackwing camps at Ghastly Gorge. It’ll be quite the bloody battle.”

“Isn’t that classified information?"

“Child, everyone is speaking of it. Some are bringing picnics! Also, no, we cannot do that either.”

I don’t even want to. It’s not in my best interest to watch anypony die in battle, glorious or no.

“The Empire will win, of course,” I boast.

“I’m sure they will,” says Master. “Through the grapevine, I’ve learned that Jarl Drake has an ace up her sleeve.”

A secret weapon. I always knew the Empire had it in them. “Is it a heavily armored super soldier that shoots fireballs from his eyes and lightning-”

“-from his ass?” Master interrupts. “No, this secret weapon is something better. Are you familiar with liquid glass?”

~Vision End~

“Celina? Celina! Where are you?!”

Caro rouses himself from his flashback by slapping himself across the face. He refuses to doze off when there’s a dragon flying about, wreaking havoc on such a gorgeous city.

He reaches for his wound. While his insides are still sore, the skin has healed, leaving a discolored scar.

Good enough, he figures, scooting himself away from the tree and tossing aside his blanket. Blanket? Who put that- He notices the lavender color and magenta stars that adorn the cloth. He lets out a smile, warmed by Shae’s gesture. That’s two times a friend has tucked me in. I should return the favor someday.

He takes in his surroundings, a medical ward filled with soldiers and servants, some sprawled out upon the floor due to lack of beds, all severely injured by the dragon. Some of the sheets are covering their faces... they’re not moving. Caro snaps his gaze away from them.

Hevnodiin, Caro reminds himself. That’s the dragon's name.

He kicks Shae’s blanket aside, making a mental note to retrieve it for her later. He leaps off his bed, equips his scabbard and bags, and runs for the door. Bucking it open without losing momentum, he charges through the castle corridors without any real sense of direction, taking random turns in the hopes that if he keeps galloping, he’ll eventually find the exit.

He hears the hysterical cries of Queen Platinum around the corner. “Where is Celina?! Please, tell me you found her!”

Caro turns the corner and sees the queen clinging to Gauntlet, shaking his neck vigorously until his helmet hangs loose upon his head. He readjusts it and respectfully steps away from the queen.

“Princess Celina is still being searched for, Your Majesty,” he says calmly. “However, with respect, your protocol puts the protection of all civilians as priority.”

Platinum takes a deep breath, wiping a single tear from her cheek. She returns to her royal disposition. “That is correct, Gauntlet. Thank you.”

Gauntlet nods. “You are welcome, Your Majesty, but if you would like to change protocol for Mistress Celina-”

“No, I will not let my daughter’s safety come before anypony else’s. I will not be made an enemy here. You may take leave.”

Caro does a double take, not entirely sure if he heard that correctly. Daughter? You‘d think the rest of the kingdom would know if she had a daughter... There was only Prince Squall, but he died of hypothermia... Daughter?!

“Ma’am.” Gauntlet salutes and quickly trots off to lead another squadron of soldiers.

Platinum’s proper guise drops as her tears begin to fall more rapidly. “Oh, where is she...”

“Who is this Celina?” Caro asks, approaching the queen.

She steps back in surprise. “Oh, thank goodness. Shae was-”

Caro cuts her off. “I know, I know. Worried sick about me, as usual? Trust me, the feeling is mutual.”

“She’s assisting the soldiers with evacuating the townsfolk to the barracks."

“Good on her.” Caro is anxious to see to her safety, though he is proud that she’s taking the initiative. “So, about Celina... Your daughter, you said?”

“Oh, yes...” Platinum gives a chuckle of embarrassment, eyes darting from side to side. “Cat’s out of the bag, I suppose.”

Caro shrugs. “I’m not judging. Sometimes we fall into bed with somepony we-”

Platinum shoots me a dirty look, shutting him up. “I’ll have you know that Celina is adopted! And I thought I made it clear that the royal soil is long dried up.”

Now Caro is the one chuckling, cheeks red from hearing such sophisticated crudeness. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

"It's a long and unusual story, one I'm not in the mood to tell right now. All that matters to me is her safety."

The earthwalker puts his face of determination back on. “If that dragon is still wreaking destruction, then she’s in serious danger, and I don’t follow your moral code of, what was it, equal protection?”

“Meaning?”

“I’m going to see her to safety and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” Caro salutes in the same way Gauntlet did. “Your Majesty.”

Scimitar in hoof, Caro breaks for the palace gates.