~Caro~

It’s almost as if I’ve stepped onto another plane of reality. I nearly cause myself vertigo, looking over the edge of the village. In the midst of the falling snow, which is the only thing permitted to pass through the forcefield, the rest of Equestria is little more than a memory at this point. Unless this winter ever comes to an end, I won’t be able to gaze upon the open fields for some time.

But, simultaneously, I want to appreciate every last moment I have with Master. The initial shock of his being alive wore off long ago, and that fleeting emotion was replaced with serenity and relief, which has thankfully lasted. This is the happiest I’ve been in some time. I will not let our reunion go to waste.

“I sincerely do wish that I could have revealed my true form to you sooner, child. It is not a matter of foolishness on my part. If Saviikaan were to know of my existence, all of Neigh Hrothgar would be at risk, and so would you.” His nostrils let out a burst of hot air. “Harsh as it may sound, it was a better option for you to think me dead for a short time, than for me to be lost to you forever.”

“I understand,” I say, before letting out a nasty fit of hacking. These Greybeards have been running me ragged ever since I woke up, and it’s been hell upon my voice. But I’ve been through far worse. Discomfort is nothing to me. “Right, what’s next?”

I feel the edge of Master’s wing nudge my side. It subliminally ushers me to stand beside him.

“I believe it is for the best that you understand exactly why Saviikaan is a threat to the land you equines call Equestria. That is an unfamiliar term to us dragons, as for the past thousand years we’ve never known this place by any name, only by the knowledge that it is sacred to us.”

“Why is it sacred?”

“This used to be the land of the Precursors, and most of ponykind understands that the Precursors worshipped us dragons as gods.”

“Was Dragos worshipped in those times?”

“She was a god of a different name and meaning at that time, and the Precursors preferred to focus upon what was in front of them rather than the metaphysical.”

“You know this because you were alive to witness such things first hoof.”

“Indeed, Caro. As I said, I am the eldest dragon.”

“...Wow. What is your secret?”

“A semi-immortal soul, my child. Dragon souls are peculiar to you ponies, to say the least, for they cannot be destroyed by force, and they can last for hundreds, or in the case of me and Saviikaan’s, thousands of years.”

“And I’m the only one alive who is able to absorb their souls from their bodies...”

“In the process, gaining the shouts they know, as well as a shred of their strength and skill.”

“Tohro did notice I have been getting more bulky. Is that why I have this tongue and these fangs?”

“Yes. But your eyes are the exception, for those are a sign of your awakening.”

“I do like the eyes. So, what separates me from other users of the Thu'um is my ability to absorb souls and understand the ancient text, so I can learn a new Shout on the spot, rather than spend my entire life learning it, like these Greybeards.”

“Yes, that is also true.”

“This is what will allow me an advantage over Saviikaan. But I fail to see why he wants to tear this land apart.”

“He is called the Reclaimer for a reason, child. Saviikaan doesn’t wish to destroy Equestria. He believes he is saving it.”

“...What sort of logic is that?”

“I recall viewing you speaking to Otar? I saw through the liquid glass.”

“Yes. Otar explained that there was some sort of war, or an infestation, or...”

“I prefer to call it a cleansing. With the Dragon Priests bridging the connection between the Precursors and the dragons, my race's powers became more available to the mortals, beyond just our vocal abilities. The Precursors began to... experiment, going beyond what nature may have intended. Necromancy, dark magic, artificial creations... It was horrifying. But Saviikaan was their leader, and he allowed it. In the end, these newfound creations tore the land apart, and the Precursors were forced underground. The dragons, they took to the sky to wait out the apocalypse.”

“...Holy...”

“No, Caro. It was most unholy. Especially when something went awry. Every Precursor who fell into hibernation beneath the surface were turned into horrendous skeletal creatures. I know this because I watched you face them.”

“I had a suspicion the draugr were Precursors. This means Otar truly is the only one left.”

“How he survived, I’m afraid I do not know, but he struck me as different than how I remember him. Perhaps he discovered some controversial means to survive.”

“Enough about the Precursors, I might throw up. What befell the dragons?”

“As I said, they waited, and bid their time until it was safe to return to Equestria, but by the time they did, new equines had arrived unto the surface. Saviikaan... Well, to say he didn’t take kindly to them walking upon what he considered the dragon territory would be putting it mildly. All that stood in his way was a pegasus who carried dragon’s blood within him.”

“Doré Westnaire? But he failed, didn’t he?”

“Doré was devoted, swift and deadly, very much like a dragon. Saviikaan cast Doré and his followers from this very mountain, and the rest of ponykind followed soon after. Yet, the bottle of evolution could not be sealed, and ponykind emerged once again. Saviikaan returned to the surface to wreak his havoc in kind. Even the next Dragonborn, Lilypad, a pony of physical perfection, was unable to stop him. She was left stranded at sea to die. And so, without her guidance, ponykind fell once again.”

So my entire life has been contained within this cycle. An eternal ring, in which a Dragonborn would rise from nothing to learn the way of the Voice, challenge Saviikaan, and inevitably die, along with the rest of ponykind. I’m sure the details of each long running battle are much different from mine, but that doesn’t change the bare basics of this revelation. I’m just a player in this recurring war between ponies and dragons. I’m a pawn.

My stomach churns, my throat opens, and I retch.

~Vision End~

~Shae~

Living in isolation for most of my life, I never quite came to terms with how this era became known as the twilight age. It’s just a term that began to catch on around Wintercolt Academy as more visitors came along. ‘Such is the way of the twilight age,' they would say. It always took me as something somber and melancholy, yet it always seems to be said with a grave amount of acceptance, like this is the way things are meant to be. But what does it mean? I’ve finally figured it out.

Twilight is the one time of day where the events of the past waking hours come to light, and we reflect on them with sorrow, longing for the moments we didn’t relish in those hours’ passing.

“Ah, where gone those days once glory shone so bright?”

Regardless of how the twilight age is relevant from pony to pony, we all feel as if the hopes and dreams that were fertilized in our hearts upon Equestria’s founding have begun to wilt and die. Our ideals are setting across the horizon and soon they will be gone forever.

I understand that now because I saw that sun set in the eyes of beloved Celina. I thought I was broken when I watched her die, but she was utterly shattered when she lived again. In that moment she knew she’ll forever be doomed to watch those around her age, but she will never know mortality. Her age is metaphysical and her soul is eternal. That’s what Platinum told me. She also told me that it would be for the best that I stay away from Celina, owing to her being incredibly unstable.

I didn’t listen. That is why I sit here under the cover of a colorful awning on a rainy morning, with a mare serving me and Celina fresh malts. I ordered vanilla with chocolate shavings. Celina refused to speak, and as such I bought her plain strawberry. I’m nearly halfway through my cup but she hasn’t touched any of it.

“So, I received post from Wintercolt Academy. My friends have recovered from their injuries, and all of the students are helping to keep the place in check until they can start class again. That’s big...”

Celina doesn’t respond, but she does look up at me for a split second. Those sky blue eyes of hers look clouded, especially underneath her unkempt mane and black hood.

“That’s big...” I repeat. I dab at my malt with my straw and try to think of something else to say. “I, uh, remember seeing Captain Gauntlet being sweet on you. Are you and him awfully close?”

Again, I’m met with clouded eyes and silence.

This is worse than death. Celina, one of the most pure and wonderful mares I could have ever hoped to meet, after I poured my heart out to her, and her to me, us becoming close friends in a manner of hours... Now she sits before me, yet she is elsewhere, stranded in a black cloud of despair. It’s as if I’m speaking to a mere statue. The worst part is knowing a happy, heavenly mare I love is within that statue, and I can’t find that mare. In a moment of frustrated desperation, I lift my cup and slam it on the table. “Celina, please say something!”

She quivers and hides most of her face under her veil. She mutters something inaudible. She then removes herself from her seat, swiping her glass off the table. It shatters on impact with the cobblestone, and the sweet cream mixes with puddles of rainwater. Celina storms away. She doesn’t heed my calls as I chase after her.

I had just barely read her lips, but I don’t quite get what reason she would have to say, “You lied to me.”

~Vision End~

~Tohro~

Never let it be said that I’m not a perfectly content pegasus.

My quest, the protection of the legendary Dragonborn, has come to a satisfying, if temporary conclusion. He’ll be working his little heart out becoming the great hero I know he’s meant to be, and I, being free from Shokenda’s alcohol and sex induced control, can fly about the land of Equestria as I please. I would make love to the sky, it being a body of color unable to stop me, but I won’t. I’ll settle for making love to any barmaid or servant boy who crosses my path.

Which is just the subject upon my mind, at the moment. These Everfree saloons carry a much more sophisticated folk than the ones in Ivarstable, and as much as I used to call Fillydelphia home, the conditions there made the pickings rather slim. This is a much more fertile garden, in my mind, and far more varied too.

As Fillydelphia is the home of the Blackwings, there are far more pegasi than anypony else within that place’s bars. It takes a mere skimming of the The Winking Sprite to see a much more varied crowd, particularly a rugged clique of gryphons in the shaded area.

“Oi, barmaid! Sweetheart, over here,” I say with a whistle and a wave. A pretty young thing comes my way, levitating a tray of flasks.

“Welcome, kind sir. How may I be of service to you?” she asks. Her sultry voice doesn’t sound forced, like she genuinely enjoys the attention. I’m falling in love with Everfree more by the minute.

“Service would be most excellent, but I wouldn’t mind a drink first. I’ll have a mug of warm grape juice,” I point to the feathered fellows across the way, “and pints of the same for those gentlebirds.” I give the barmaid a tilt of my brow and a brush under her chin, passing her a small pouch of bits. “You’re welcome to join us.” She laughs and blushes at the offer. I still have it, even with this traitor eye.

I saunter forth, bobbing and weaving between the inebriated fellows of the tavern, until I reach the gryphons. They’re definitely more of a sight to see up close than afar. I’ve never bedded one of their kind before. This might be my chance to get ahold of one. Or three.

“Good day to you, friends,” I say with a twirl. This gains me plenty of awkward stares, but they’ll be smiling soon. “I’ll have you know I’ve ordered you all some nourishment, and in return, I expect to hear the good word. Tell me your stories, you all look like you’ve seen something worth mentioning.”

What did I say? They’re smiling now. Only, those don’t look like smiles of enjoyment. I feel mocked. “Well, the audacity of it all,” says the gryphon at the helm of the group. His furry legs are crossed over the table. He wears the shadiest clothing out of all of his affiliates, with a black coat over leather armor, and a scarf pulled into a hood. He removes the scarf, revealing a white feathered face with an armored beak. “I can officially put it on record that I have been spoken to by the very same pegasus that put an arrow in my brother’s head.”

My mind instantly races back to a time when I was airborne, in the midst of a battle with the Thieves Guild, caught in the blast of Shae’s magical overdrive.

“Jackpot,” I had said. Click went the crossbow, and down went the leader of the Thieves Guild in a pool of blood. And if this white feathered gryphon is Ezio’s brother...

“Hello, Altair,” I say with a nervous swallow.

“So...” Altair reaches behind him, agonizingly slowly, and equips a large knife, one with an exotic insignia upon the flat of the blade. He sets the tip upon the table, then spins it about in a circle. Twice. Three times. Then he tosses it up in the air and catches it by the blade, somehow not cutting himself in the process. He points the hilt right in my direction. “...What story do you want to hear first, my friend?”

There’s a key routine to my mornings. I check myself to ensure my body is all in a single piece, I eye my surroundings before making any sudden movements, and, usually every other day, I take note of who exactly is laying next to me under the covers. It’s saved me a lot of knife wounds, I’ll say that much.

I can’t say my life isn’t interesting. While I do give myself a mental pat on the back for what I see on my left, which would be that sultry barmaid curled up with the pillow, wearing the goofiest smile on her face, it’s what’s on my right that causes me to do a double take.

“You’re not too shabby, Tohro Blackwing,” says Altair. He’s slipping on his hosen, but I can at least get a view of his bare back. I take note of two deep laden scars where his wings should be. He catches on to my stunned staring. “Oh, these? I lost my flight when I was a child. Don’t concern yourself with it too much. I’m an effective thief, even without wings.”

Hearing that, I do everything in my power to slam my erect wings to my sides. They’re not cooperating easily, but they feel like an insult in the face of a flightless gryphon.

“I consider myself satisfied,” Altair says. After he pulls on his leather, he turns around and gives me an intimidating stare only a bird could manage. “Now, it’s time for you to tell me something; what can a former Blackwing offer the Thieves Guild?”

~Vision End~

~Platinum~

“What am I to do, my love?”

My hoof brushes the flat, painted mane of my late husband. It matters little to me how well crafted this portrait is; it cannot emulate the majesty of my Hurricane, not even a fraction. As this perpetual seeming storm continues to daunt Everfree, with the reflection of the rain on the windows shadowing my husband’s face, I keep asking that same question over and over again, for the answers are lost to me in this life. Perhaps the answer lies in the great beyond.

I didn’t cry for Hurricane when we sent him off. It was just as he requested; atop a high mountain, his body laid comfortably across a nimbostratus cloud, pushed off to fly amongst the other clouds. I was the only unicorn amongst a crowd of mourning pegasi. I felt like such the outcast. Even an embrace from Private Pansy wasn’t enough to blur the line, and that gesture seems even more tragic after what he attempted soon after. That’s how he... Damn it all, why did it have to come to this?

Now I’m resting both my hooves the painting, paying no mind to how pathetic I must look. “You must know something. Send me a sign, please... Anything, Hurricane...”

The picture doesn’t respond.

“I’ve... I’ve only spoken to Celina the once since my confession to her. Her response was less than pleasant. I merely wanted to bring her dinner but she cast it aside. She cursed me out without even using her voice, with a flash of blinding light and a strike of flame upon her food. I remember, upon leaving the room, hearing her burst into tears... She’s destroying herself, but she cannot die. All that will be left of her is an empty immortal shell, at this rate. She won’t be alive, she’ll just... exist.” I try to still my quivering lip. I have to stay strong in the presence of my husband. “We’ve already lost a son. How can I afford to lose a daughter? How could I let this happen?”

I made this happen. I could have just told Celina it was all an awful dream and sent her off to a bath and bed. Would she have believed me? Of course not. She’s too smart for that. No matter what approach I took to the situation, it couldn’t have ended any way but in tears and heartbreak. The only consistency is that it’s all my fault.

I hear a rustling beyond the corridor, coming from the garden. My hopes begin to soar. Perhaps Celina has finally found the strength to bring herself back to happiness, or at least a shred of what she was, and return to her garden. I’ve neglected to touch the place, for it’s hers and hers alone.

Then again, I should know better than to think she’d recover in an moment’s notice, especially when I see Shae tending to the garden herself, with Celina apathetically standing nearby. She’s still wearing that garish veil, watching blankly as Shae buries a pack of daisy seeds. She keeps looking back and forth between Celina and her, honestly, rather shoddy work.

Shae’s dissonantly happy mien disturbs me. I’ve told her time and time again that she shouldn’t be near Celina, yet that never stops her for some reason. She has tenacity, I’ll give her that much, but how long will she be able to convince herself she’s making a dent? I fear for her innocence, or worse, what Celina might do to her.

Bloody hell, I’m afraid of a mare who once called me Mother.

Shae happily mutters something to Celina, who, as is the norm of late, doesn’t speak back. Shae continues as if she heard some sort of response, I can’t quite hear them out, curse my old ears...

It’s through a few minutes of deluded self conversation that Shae’s smile begins to dwindle into a frown, with her eyes starting to water. I can see her will faltering by the second. Who am I to try and stop it? I’ll only make matters worse, that’s how it always goes.

Celina catches wind of Shae’s distraughtness and tries to take her leave as silently as ever, but Shae will have none of it. Through her tears she teleports in front of Celina and grabs ahold of her by the withers.

“You have to stop this!” I can hear her now. “I can’t cope with this, Celina! I want the old you! What happened to her?! Please, just come back! Come back to us! Come back to me!”

Celina’s response is to capture Shae in a levitation field and toss her into the corridor. That’s when I enter the fray, standing between the sobbing child and the despairing alicorn. Celina doesn’t take another step, only hiding herself away further.

“Don’t you remember...” Shae whispers as she clutches her stomach. I do believe she’s had the wind knocked out of her. “I... I said you were beautiful...”

Celina brushes the sentiment off like a gnat, coldly walking away from the both of us. I sincerely hope it was my old ears playing tricks on me when I heard her say something.

“Liar.”

I solemnly turn back to my husband. “What am I to do, my love?”

~Vision End~

~Caro~

"Your poise is most admirable, child. You've come far since your... less successful attempts at meditation."

I open a single eye and give Master a pout. "It would have been far easier if I didn't have a dragon's guttural growl interfering with my focus."

"My apologies, son." He pulls his head away and rather humorously steps aside. I can tell he's embarrassed. "I've forgotten how sensitive you are. No doubt you are even moreso these days."

If I strain my nose, I can smell bread baking clear across the village. Honey baked crumpets, I'd warrant. "I grew used to the heightened senses quickly, shortly after leaving Beak Falls Barrow." I put on a smirk. "Unlike Saviikaan, I am accepting of change."

That makes Master chortle. "Your maturity is the better part of your eventual success. You are a promising Dragonborn."

"It's because I want things to change. If Equestria is in pain, then I'll be able to heal her." I close my eyes and return to my meditative pose, with my forelegs resting on my hinds. I close my eyes and take a slow breath. "Saving innocent ponies by purging the corrupt."

Master only responds with a puff of smoke.

Right then. Once again it is time for me to try and pursue inner peace. Master has repeatedly told me that meditation is all about the absence of thought. As such, I expel any distractions, pretending everything from small drafts of air to minuscule crawls across my fur do not exist. This will bring clarity to me, slowing my blood and opening my mind. A finite escape from a wounded world.

But that won’t grant me inner peace. It is, as I said, finite.

“Remember, only when you and the world have found a balance, and your path in life is completely visible before you, will you be at peace.”

I fail to see the necessity of this, but it is awfully difficult to argue with the eldest dragon. And I have taken his advice to heart; in fact, I do believe this is working. My senses are going numb.

Comfort. Honest to Epona comfort.

It is like the surrounding world just disappeared in an instant, at my will. No sounds to be heard, no dreadful cold, no temperature whatsoever for that matter... This is a far more welcome alternative to that empty void, because it's my void, in my mind. The miraculous part is that I am able to stand and walk about the void. This could be a pleasant way to pass the time.

I reflect back on the maelstrom of emotions I’ve been through as of late. For a while, after discovering my master’s true self, I harbored a sliver of hatred for him. My inner Dragonborn keeps telling me that, as a dragon, he needs to die so I may gain more power. After all, he is the eldest. What sort of abilities might his soul grant me? Fortunately I’ve managed to quell such selfish thoughts. The other part of my hatred came from the more obvious; being left alone, believing his death was genuine.

Yet, over time, my hatred descended into nothing, because I could never hate Master. How could I hate the one pony that raised me better than my own parents? Of course; it’s because I’m the Dragonborn that he raised me. My parents, for what little time I had with them, told me that he even chose my name.

So, the greatest difference between then and now is the mighty dragon where a mighty stallion used to stand. Surprising as it may sound, I am okay with that.

“Are you, now?”

I immediately crouch into a battle stance and reach for my blade, but it seems I don’t carry my equipment with me into these voids. I keep looking about for wherever that voice came from. It’s deep, like a dragon’s, but it’s far more shrill and feminine than Master’s.

“Nahkriin?” I ask aloud. I keep darting my eyes in every direction. I turn around, and find I’m staring into a much less kind, scaly face than the one I’ve grown used to. Black and red scales, and a hungry disposition.

“Yes, it is I," she hisses. "So, you show mercy for Hammerfell... Why is it you do this?”

I have a few questions of my own, mostly regarding what she has to gain by grating on me, or why she’s even in my peaceful realm to begin with. “He’s been the only pony—”

The amused glare Nahkriin gives me makes me cringe.

“...He’s the one I’ve admired since I was a child. He’s guided my hoof for many years. Him being a dragon cannot change that, nor will it ever.” I start to trot around the beast, giving her a glare of my own. “Find something better to do with your time, and do it quietly. Your soul belongs to me.”

So much for pleasant. I sigh and run a hoof across my face, trying to block out any memory of my hallucination in the woods. Instead, I focus on how cathartic it was to finally bring Nahkriin to her bloody end after all the pain she brought me... Pain that wasn't even needed in the end... I avenged a death that didn't even happen. I...

"And what puts you as higher than your ancestors, Dovahkiin? Your Precursor forefathers couldn't even survive an infestation of pathetic insects."

Hevnodiin. Just his presence is enough to turn my blood to ice, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of that. Part of me still harbors fear for his cold and callous assault on Everfree. If it hadn't been for Celina, hell, even Treesap, I would have ended as little more than a morbid stain on the concrete. Once again, though, this is my world. It is only cold if I convince myself it is. And I don't have to listen to this drivel.

I've cast that oversized lizard out of sight and out of mind, but his voice still reigns.

"And what of your more recent kin, the other ones? They were powerless to face Saviikaan, and he has only grown stronger since their deaths. Every generation past, there have been more Dovah hatched from shell, more time for us to prepare for the next Dovahkiin arrival."

I don't respond, not even with the slightest gesture. Instead, I just keep walking.

Then I'm stopped by a horrid stench, something I had hoped never to smell twice. It's too garish to will out of existence.

The lanky green dragon, the one who went without telling me his name, materializes before me. Rather, his partially skeletal remains, with flesh and blood melted around the bone. His cruel, merciless death at Shokenda's wrath haunts me at the best of times. At the worst, I imagine the effects of Shokenda's shout upon a pony.

"You should have been killed by me," I say.

"Do you grieve for me, pony?"

I shake my head. "Never. But one shouldn't be subject to such misery."

The unnamed one tilts his skull. "And yet you are free to torture those you see as unworthy? Unworthy the instant they transgress your line of pure and corrupt?"

The screams of Ember, him writhing in agony as I made him suffer for what he and Pyro did to Jade... "Theirs was a crime of another sort. One reaps what one sows."

"So?" the skeleton asks. "The crime was committed, and no Thu'um can reverse the flow of time. And was that truly the only instance of the crime in history? Did you truly bring peace? Did murdering those soldiers restore Jade’s innocence?”

“No, but that’s not the—”

“Ah, truly the wisdom of the latest Dovahkiin is beyond compare,” says Nahkriin. She sounds like a child mocking an annoying little brother. “If the sodomizers die, then truly all of the victim’s trauma and wounds of the mind are put to rest! Yes, that makes complete and utter sense.” Does she have a third death wish? She’s making bloody tuts at me!

These questions are utterly ridiculous. This is supposed to be where I follow the path to peace, but all I’ve heard so far is criticism that cuts through my conscious like a knife of frustration and annoyance. I stand infuriated, shooting a deathly menace at Nahkriin. “How do you even know this?!”

“Your soul and ours are one, Caro,” says Hevnodiin, his icy breath traveling down my neck. “We see, hear, taste and smell as you do, and we know as you know. In fact, I daresay we know more.” He chuckles with plague. “Did Hammerfell not tell you?”

The nameless reciprocates the laughter. “Ah ha, the traitor’s old memory failed him again. It is the Dovahkiin’s misfortune that the elderly one conveniently leaves the more unpleasant aspects of the great hero’s inheritance out of his monologues.”

They called him a traitor. That doesn’t surprise me too much. Master clearly abandoned the dragons and their senseless destructive ways quite some time ago. “But... why didn’t he tell me...” I have four souls within my body. Mine, and the dragons'. And with them, their conscious and all of their being.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be so... harsh,” says Nahkriin. All of a sudden she looks sympathetic, or at least as much as she can manage. “After all, if we share a single body, that makes us a part of him. In a way, we are now Dragonborn as well.”

“Right...” I approach Nahkriin. Looking closely, I can see the spot upon her head where my old scimitar impaled. That must have been horrendous to endure. But perhaps this lead to some good for her. Perhaps... “And as such, you should understand where I come from, what I wish for Equestria. I’m merely trying to do away with all the wrong, and the rest of your kind...” I pause. I must choose my words carefully. “I believe destroying Equestria simply to preserve your old ways is beyond immature, and I cannot make this land right if Saviikaan continues his crusade.”

Nahkriin slowly nods. “That is understandable. I may not agree with you, but I understand that much.” She begins to briskly walk past me, pausing to bring her head around to my side. She’s a tad too close for my comfort. I’d only ever allow Tohro to stand so close. “However, I, along with my fellow Dovah, cannot comprehend your methods regarding the continued bloodying of the sacred land’s soil. After all, that makes you no different from us... Mind, you are a part of us too.”

My lower eyelid begins to twitch.

“In a way, you are more of a dragon than a pony.”

I speak, with barely a sound coming out. Only I can hear myself saying, “No...”

I look to where Nahkriin is, only to see that she’s disappeared. I turn around and see that the same has occurred for Hevnodiin and the nameless one. Now I cannot argue against them. They’ve won. For the first time, I’ve lost against a dragon.

“No, I’m...” My heart feels cold as I press my hooves to my chest. This time, it’s not Hevnodiin’s doing. “I’m a foal of ponies... Nothing else... Nothing else...”

“I’m not like you! I’m not!”

I open my eyes. I’m on my side, resting under a fur blanket, beneath a star speckled night sky. I can only see the stars' blurred glow through the wetness obscuring my vision. I wasn’t meditating. I fell asleep. Yet as much as I wish to deny it, I know that was far from a dream.

“At the very least, you’ve mastered the relaxation portion of the exercise.” I hear Master right next to me. I wouldn’t expect him to leave my side, not for a second. Yet, for the first time in many years, I wish he weren’t there. He sounds as if he doesn’t want to be here either.

Wiping my eyes, I start to ask, “When did you intend on telling me...”

His scaled palm brushes my mane, which is drenched in cold sweat. “I wished for you to see for yourself. I do not know if that was the best course of action.”

“What else are you keeping from me?” I look to him. Though I can’t quite see every detail of his face through my glazed eyes, matted hair and the dark of night, I can tell he’s utterly miserable. He brings a single wing to cover himself up in shame. Suddenly I feel like the greater beast.

“Many things, my child...” He peeks over his wing, though the rest of his face remains hidden. “The only reason I keep so much unsaid because... I love you so much, and it breaks me so to see you cry. But it seems no matter how I approach these circumstances, I cannot spare you tears.”

No, he cannot. I wipe the tears clean with my blanket, and I can presume that will not be the last time.

“But, if it will help ease the pain in the long haul, I will be able to swallow my pride and tell you every—”

I hold out my hoof as if I were stopping a blade. “No.”

Master’s visible eye looks about before he asks, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Many of the unfortunate truths that have been revealed to me since I arrived in Neigh Hrothgar have almost killed me. I want the confessions to stop. Tell me no more, and if there is some sort of awful, mind-rending revelation waiting to happen, I will see it for myself. I cannot afford to distract myself with this any longer.” I toss the blanket aside and stand, blinking out the rest of my tears. “Equestria needs me, and it needs me soon. Starting tomorrow, I will only focus on gathering power. I will show the dragons within me that I am worthy of my inheritance!” I say that last one with a stomp upon the ground.

A stray thought comes forth. That nameless one’s soul is within me, so surely I must subconsciously know his name. I mentally reach deep within and try to recover something, anything to refer him by. The letters appear before me in my mind.

“Malyol,” I say to myself. Not exactly the most impressive name, but it is a name nonetheless. “The next I encounter one of your brethren, I’ll show you what you missed.”

As I turn to enter the temple and go off to a much more peaceful sleep, I sneak one last gaze at Master.

This is the first time, and hopefully the last, that I see a dragon cry.

~Vision End~

~Shae~

I’m standing in the royal graveyard.

While I have occupied the Rainbow Palace for some time now, I don’t like to pretend I know it by heart. I still haven’t explored many of the rooms or corridors, not that I’ve ever had the opportunity. I’ve been distracted by other things. This graveyard is the only place I've deliberately avoided, because, well, it’s a graveyard. It’s bloody depressing. But that has changed.

For two months I’ve tried to cope with that fateful day of loss and despair. It marks the day I learned of Platinum’s more regretful decisions. When I saw somepony I love die and come back in a span of minutes, utterly breaking her soul in the process. When that same pony learned of herself, and what she truly was. When I killed a mare I idolized without a second thought, and in the process, killed a part of myself.

“To return to the Fae upon my dying day...”

It may sound incredibly morbid, but I imagine that part of me is buried with Clover. Despite every last horrid thing she did to the Rainbow Palace, I insisted that she be given a proper burial, one worthy of the mare I thought her to be. Some part of me wanted to preserve that memory, so I still had a paragon I could strive to equal. As selfish I feel for believing that, Platinum agreed with my idea, so she commissioned a personal tombstone for Clover. Etched into it is the Pure Heart, and Clover standing beneath it. That is the mage I remember.

I let out an exasperated groan. My whole life is a complicated puzzle of death and confusion. Shae Sparkle, the smart mare, the brilliant one of Wintercolt Academy, whose family crest, a six pointed star, is a replicate the school’s symbol. How does that even work? Shae Sparkle, who lost her mother and cried, then lost her father and went catatonic, only to be pulled out of the abyss by her best friends, and she returned the favor by leaving them for a school project. She saw so much death and chaos, and she only blinked at the former because that was expected of her. She felt nothing for death on the inside. Until she felt the reaper creep upon her. Then, when she put an end to a once admired mare’s life, she screamed until she was hoarse. That’s who I am. Confused, selfish and utterly wrecked.

I reach out to the engraving of the Pure Heart. “I’m so sorry, Clover,” I whisper somberly. “I dreamed I could match you in power and knowledge, and when I found that it was all merely a means to an end, I lost all respect for you. I...” I can’t afford to cry in front of her. I swallow my grief and continue. “You never needed to hurt me or Celina, or Platinum. You should have been content as you were, beloved by all the students of the academy you created. You turned your back on them and forced my hoof. When I say I’m sorry, I mean to say I’m sorry for you.”

If the sun were not peeking through the grey clouds at just the precise angle at this exact time, I wouldn’t be able to notice the Amulet of Fauste’s red glimmer. The necklace rests at the base of the tombstone. I can see my remorseful reflection in its ebony shimmer. That is the face of a mare who now fears death, for her and other strangers.

“I’ll keep your legacy alive within me.” My magenta aura captures the amulet and brings it up close so I can get a better view of myself. I replace that remorseful face with one of grim determination. “I may not be able to keep the historical records from cursing your name for what you’ve done, but I will remember you as you were.”

I close my eyes as I wrap the silver chain of the amulet around my neck and lock it. When I open my eyes back up, I can feel a new red aura coming off of them. My horn is coated in much of the same. I smile when I realize I can feel every last tract of the Fae within me, and I have complete and utter control.

“I will never forget.”

~Vision End~

~Tohro~

The quiet rustle of the leaves upon this tree are not my err. It is simply the wind caressing them. My wings are tucked in. My hooves are silent, motionless, as is my chest, yet I draw breath just the same. I am shadow. I am nonexistent to all but myself. This is the power of the thieves.

I huddle closer to this branch as I survey Everfree below. My greatest foe approaches. He’s confident, cocky, believing he has me on the ropes. He thinks he knows me as a fool, but I can outsmart him. For I am stealth incarnate. Altair himself gave me his blessing and this armor because he knows I am worthy of the newly reinvented Thieves Guild.

“Ezio’s path was of debauchery and assault in the name of riches. I do not grieve what you did to him. In fact, I thank you. With him fallen, I was free to take the reins of this family and pursue our original purpose; the evening. The blurring of the line between rich and poor. Everyone deserves some good fortune, and I’m willing to give it to them. To do that, we must be completely and utterly unknown beneath the hood. You’re more than capable of that.”

Altair said that when he gifted me this light mail, leather barding and cowl. It’s light enough to where I don’t even feel like I’m touching the ground, even when I’m walking. It’s like I’m wearing nothing at all. Now I can sympathize with Caro’s preference to go clothless. I do remember, earlier on, when he wore that pauldron, but he was probably just being cautious. When he knew he could defend himself, he didn’t need it anymore. Come to think of it, I could procure a set of this armor for him. He’d look good in it.

But enough of that. Now, with my eyes focused on my enemy, I hush up and keep as silent as equinely possible. He can’t see me. He could never possibly in this lifetime, or any other—

“Oh, hi there, Tohro!”

Divines damn it.

I slide over the branch to hang upside down, then let go, landing rightside up like a cat. At least I’m not inept in regards to agility. Even if my stealth operation to tackle hug him was a wasted effort, it is still a relief to see little Treesap. And I can settle for a conventional hug. I pull him in with a wing.

I give him a tap on the chest. “So, are you ready to attack the day, kiddo?”

“Always and forever,” he says. He breaks away from the hug and trots about the cobblestone with a spring in his step. “It’s your turn to lead, so what should we do?”

“Oh my, are you in for a big surprise.”

I turn my gaze to the Rainbow Palace. Truthfully, I’ve had my eyes on that place for some time now, but I’ve decided that on today of all days, I’m going to follow through on easily the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought of. And I have made some truly, truly foolish decisions in my time. I turn back to Treesap.

“See, my travels with Caro, Shae and Rosemary have taught me a few things about where my loyalties should lie, and I need you by my side for this.”

Treesap salutes me and stands at my side like a little soldier. “Yes, sir!”

Now that is what I like to call undying loyalty. I bloody love this child. I’m going to have to buy him a stuffed animal, something worthy of his zeal. “Very good, then.” I kneel down, spreading my wings out. “Our journey begins, little one. Come aboard.”

While having somepony upon my back for a flight isn’t what I’d call comfortable, Treesap is scrawny enough for a quick travel. I have to pull my cowl over to protect my mane and face from the falling snow, and he buries his face in my neck for the same reason. After a quick swoop through an alley and tight curve around the corner, nearly barreling over a cabbage stand, I landed at the gates of the palace.

I peek at Treesap. “Listen, I’ll tell you when it’s best for you to speak. The Rainbow Palace obviously doesn’t accept much untoward behavior.”

“Yes, sir.” His level of obedience is uncanny.

It’s just my luck that the captain of the royal guard just so happens to be here, along with a few soldiers at the ready. “Hullo, Gauntlet,” I say, removing the cowl.

The poor fellow looks absolutely exhausted, with his baggy eyes and muddled mane. One would assume that the escalation of the war is starting to abrade on him, but I’d at least expect he’d have time to sleep. “You’d best have a reason for showing your face about the palace, Blackwing,” he says. He’s trying to sound threatening, but he comes off with the mien of a depressed child.

Perhaps it’s the extended period of time I’ve spent with these Imperials, but they’re not as threatening as I made them out to be at a time. With any luck, I’m going to change that.

“I can’t help but notice you’re far happier than one reasonably should be,” says the captain.

Why shouldn’t I be? “And I can’t help but notice all the brown upon your nose. How is the fair queen, speaking of which?”

“I’d be...” He pauses. I believe he just realized what I said. He waves it off, though, gracing his eyes with his hoof. “Dammit. I’d be a liar if I said anything other than this: Her Royal Majesty has fallen into such disarray unseen since King Hurricane’s untimely death. She is keeping herself composed to the best of her abilities, and the Legion remains strong as ever with our new hoofhold in Trottingham, as well as her guidance, but I see her trembling constantly, and her mind tends to be elsewhere.” The way he looks into the distance, I think he knows why. But that is none of my concern. I’m here for other reasons.

I tap the poor fellow on the shoulder and beckon for him to follow me past the gate. Obviously such an audacious act is not something he’s used to, but he takes after me regardless. The child and I manage to gain some ground ahead of him, heading up the stairwell to the throne room.

Treesap says to me in a hushed voice, “Tohro, I think that behavior qualifies as untoward. I don’t want us to get thrown out.”

“We won’t, kiddo,” I say. “I have a certain way of going about things that ensures that getting rid of me would be far too troublesome. They’ll have to listen to what I have to say, and with you there, they’ll be more tempted to trust me.” I only now realize how unfortunate that sounds. I turn my tone to the sympathetic side. “Don’t think for a moment that I’m using you, little one.”

Treesap pats me on the head, trying to reassure me. “Whatever it is you have to do, I would love to help. What are friends for?”

Gauntlet clears his throat behind me. “You are aware that, even under normal circumstances, it’s ill advised to step into the Rainbow Palace when it suits you. The only reason Shae Sparkle is permitted to live here for the time being is—”

My current task falls through for the moment. I advance on Gauntlet. “Shae’s here?! Where? She’s supposed to be at the academy!”

“You... haven’t been in Everfree long, have you?” Befitting his position as captain of the guard, he stands his ground. “But that isn’t what’s important right now. Ask anypony within half a kilometer of this palace and they’ll be able to recite the story to you.” I can hear a twinge of pain in his voice. “Which is one of the many reasons you should leave,” he says insistently.

As if I wasn’t burdened enough. Now I have Shae to worry about on top of all of this. Bloody hell, if I make a mistake, she could be thrown out as well, and what sort of sordid excuse for an equine would I be if I let that happen? Yet, as silly as this may sound, that only serves as further motivation.

I pat Gauntlet on the cheek, very much enjoying his shocked expression. “Or, perhaps you could enlighten me. I feel the desire to make slow steps to the queen’s throne room.”

“Well, uh... That’s not...” He sighs and removes his helmet, revealing his red mane. Somepony only does such a thing if they’re about to pour their heart out. I have a feeling this ‘story’ strikes his heart more so than others.

And too right I am. While we pass by one stained glass window after the other, Gauntlet relays the very tragic tale of Clover the Clever’s betrayal, Shae’s valiant efforts to counter the attack on the palace, and Celina’s unfortunate demise, then prompt discovery of her immortality. Fortunately, that part in particular has been kept discreet, which, of course, means Celina is safe from the Blackwings, at least for the time being. I’m grateful for that much.

“I’ve admired the princess for some time.” Gauntlet pauses in mid-step and looks despairingly out the window. “You could say she... stole my affection. And now, to see her lose every last bit of vibrancy, love and life she ever had, with me unable to even speak to her let alone help her... Not even Shae can bring her back to us.”

I’ve never seen an Imperial soldier tear up before, and I’m not about to let it happen now. “Give her time,” I say.

That was the wrong thing to say. Gauntlet wipes his eyes. “She has nothing but, and that is why she’s fallen from grace.” He neglects to look at me head-on, hiding his eyes beneath his mane. He points further down the hall. “I... believe you know the route to Queen Platinum’s throne room. Do what you must. It matters little.”

Oh, if only he knew. Regardless, I refuse to leave him without a silent touch of support. After that, I take Treesap and myself away down the corridor, and I don’t stop flying until I reach the throne room.

Shae must be even more dedicated than I know her to be, with her efforts to calm Celina and bring her back to happiness going on for this long. I can’t imagine how much stress she must have to hold in, not to mention putting herself at personal risk. I fear for what may happen if Celina were to seriously injure her, possibly damage her permanently. I wouldn’t be able to exact revenge on her if that were to happen. How could I? Celina isn’t... normal, in body and in mind, or emotional state, for that matter. All of that makes the happy thought of Shae rejoining Dragonrein all the more selfish.

“Are we going to help the princess?” asks Treesap.

I solemnly shake my head. “That is not why we’re here, I’m afraid. But maybe, if this works, I can protect her from anypony who might take ire with her lineage.”

If this works. No, it has to.

The door has been left ajar, allowing me to poke my head in and see the queen. This place being the throne room, one would expect her to be sitting on the throne in question, but instead, much like Gauntlet, her thoughts and eyes are set to the window, looking out to the streets below. She notices me as I open the door slowly, merely glancing my way before looking back outside.

“Your Majesty,” I say.

She doesn’t do anything to acknowledge me.

Treesap taps me on the wing. I look to him, and see him tilting his head towards the queen. Clearly he wants to say something. For his bravery, I admire him. Most ponies keep their mouths shut in the presence of Platinum, forgetting that she’s just as much a mortal as we are. I was able to see that first hoof, which was my first step towards my growing sympathy for the Empire, as well as one of the many reasons why I am here. I wave Treesap forward.

He trots to the queen, pausing for a moment. No doubt he is searching for the right words. He speaks. “I... think your palace is very pretty, Your Majesty.”

Platinum actually jumps a little at his word. She looks to him with surprise on her face. “That’s, uh, very kind and observant of you.”

Treesap nods. “I hope Princess Celina gets better soon. I miss her singing at night. A lot.”

“The, uh...” Platinum probably didn’t expect to have a conversation with a stranger child as part of today’s regiment. “The nights are long and dreary without her. It’s as if all of Everfree reflects her as she is.”

I take note of that as I, too, find myself looking outside. I recall a certain light in Everfree, one that could not be seen under Shokenda’s influence in Fillydelphia, or anywhere else, for that matter. It was a subtle, nearly invisible radiance that warmed my heart. It was as if I knew everything would be just fine, yet had no means to support that belief.

I don’t even need to see Celina to know what she must be like at this moment. The ponies of Everfree now trudge along, as if they share a piece of her despair. I fear that if I don’t keep my focus, I too will fall under such a spell. I recall I even saw a little bit of such grey upon Treesap before I spoke to him. It takes a strong mind and stronger influence to resist Celina’s memetic disposition, it seems.

“I think Tohro wants to help,” says Treesap.

Platinum hesitates to look my way, as if she can find it hard to believe. Regardless, she does so, but I don’t see an overwhelming amount of support from her. “Dragonrein saved Everfree from a dragon attack, and since then, two members of Dragonrein have assisted me further. Shae became Celina’s one and only friend, and is currently doing more than I ever could to keep her sane. As for Caro, well, he did away with some nefarious soldiers who weren’t upholding the call of duty...”

Ember and Pyro. Caro took such sick pleasure in bringing them to death, particularly the absolute torture he put Ember through. I’ve been bottling what I saw, and yet... “You know about that?”

Platinum seemed incredibly nonchalant. “Caro voiced his displeasure in what Ember and Pyro did to a Blackwing mage. Blackwing or no, soldiers that dispense such depraved excuses for justice have no place in my kingdom, and it’s better off that they’re gone for good, rather than free to walk these streets.”

“You... ordered their execution?” I ask, utterly gaping. I look to Treesap, who is distracted with the view. I sincerely hope he’s tuning this all out.

“No. I simply turned my back.” She bows her head and sighs. “Something tells me I may regret doing so later, but I cannot take any risks. That above all is why I do such awful things, Tohro. The forbidding of relationships in the military, banning worship of Dragos, and putting many of my personal discretions in the past...” She must be referring to Clover the Clever. “I do so much to keep order, but it only serves as more fuel for the fires of revolution. Yet, I cannot put an end to such measures, as there’s always something that demands coarse action.”

“Such an open confession to such a controversial decision,” I say, trying to keep my composure. In my mind, I’d prefer to say something along the lines of, ‘What is wrong with you?’

“You have the right to know,” she says. “Caro is your friend, after all.”

If there is a positive side to all of this, it gives me more justification what I am about to do, and, in the long term, I can bury the hatchet of holding that secret within me. At least I can still hold it against Caro, should he step out of line again.

I have a few things to say about this, and I’m going to get it all out before my better judgment clouds my mind.

“You see? Such conspiracies are the reason I’m here. The Empire is flawed, Your Majesty. There are many excuses for Shokenda to tear this place to the ground and you listed just about all of them. This rebellion started for a reason, are you aware?”

I could be thrown into the dungeons for that alone. But why should I stop now?

“You want assistance from all of Dragonrein? Our good friend, Rosemary, she's a damn fine blacksmith and she can give your soldiers some truly exceptional armor and weaponry. You already have Caro's dragon slaying and Shae's compassion, but that leaves me. What can I offer you, Platinum? I’m a former Blackwing. I assassinated some of your finest soldiers within even holding my breath. I am truly sorry for that, and I won’t ask for forgiveness. Instead, I will tell you this much. Shokenda killed the dream I once had when I was part of the Blackwings, and Dragonrein woke me to what she truly is. I know this empire now, well enough to believe that, flawed as it is, it can have a good future. And that is why I say this right now: I am going to join the Imperial Legion.”

Platinum’s eyes couldn’t be any wider.

“That is not a request,” I say.

She looks about in a complete stupor, opening her mouth to say aborted sentences and ending up looking like a confused fish. She only stops when Treesap tugs on the fur of her robe.

“With respect, Your Majesty... Look at him dead in the eye and tell me he wouldn’t make a valuable soldier,” he says.

I love this kid.

~Vision End~

~Tangerine~

“Once again, we, the Carrier Clan, honorable warriors of Equestria and the beholders of her finest equines, gather here in the Horsevaskr training grounds as one body. Today is the day we welcome a new shield-sibling into our ranks, our most unexpected yet, I might add.”

The gathered Carriers stand before me, staring me down. Under normal circumstances, this would be intimidating, as I once found it long ago, but in the months since I’ve stood among their ranks, such an intense gaze has become a sign of respect. Roches, Aerial, and, of course, Wolf River, are beside each other, with Scar giving the preceding words amongst the rest of the Carriers. Looking back, I expected this to be a more formal event, like when I was knighted to take Oregano's place as the general, but this is far more lax. Then again, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m through with formalities.

“Lady Tangerine, former general of the Imperial Legion, and valuable asset the Carrier Clan. Do you truly wish to join our ranks as the paragons of Equestria?”

I raise my hoof. “I’ve been ready for some time.”

Scar taps his chin. “Two months we’ve delayed this inauguration. That is two months too long. As the war escalates and moralities shift, Equestria needs more heroes to watch and learn from, and Tangerine will be one of, hopefully, many to join our ranks in the near future.” He gestures out to the ponies who are soon to officially become my second family. “Will anypony vouch for her induction?”

Quite a few of them, even the young ones, raise their voices in approval. My bravery during the trek through Dustcolt’s Cairn and my leadership in the battle of Trottingham has netted me a hefty amount of reverence. A familiar sensation, but one that feels much more sincere, rather than just expected of underlings.

Still, I only wish for one stallion to speak for me, and he steps forward as if he decided to gain telepathy. “I will,” says Wolf River. He separates himself from his clique to join me. What little stage fright I have becomes nil with him by my side.

“Wolf River, you could learn much from this mare,” says Scar. “She, for one, does not shove preachers into fountains.”

I hear a grumble that reminds me of when I scold my children. “I know...”

Scar’s wrinkled face gives him the sternest look of all. No one could lie to him, which is why he steps closer to Wolf River and looks at him dead in the eye... which must be difficult, considering Scar only has the one. “Would you stand as her ally in the field of battle, protecting her from any and every foe?”

Wolf River does away with the pouting and stood strong. It’s like he’s grown a few inches. A true pinnacle of physique, he is. “As I have many times before. I would shoulder no mercy to those who would dare harm her.”

As expected, he speaks nothing but the truth. Several dead Silver Horseshoe poachers back his words.

“Would you allow her to take up your weapon should you fall in battle?”

He and I share a glance, and I can tell we’re thinking the same thoughts, hoping with all of our beating hearts that it will never come to that. But I would take his war axe for my own if the worse became the worst. Every life taken after that would be for him.

Wolf River thumps his chest plate. “I would grant her my strength and will with my dying breath.”

Scar takes pride in hearing that, with a beam on his wrinkled face. “And would you raise a glass of mead in her name?”

“I would toast to her and her every victory.” After mimicking taking a hefty chug of alcohol and garnering laughs from his comrades, Wolf River looks to me again. “I would do anything in her name, for she is my friend, my hero,” he beckons to me, “and my heart.”

It’s been made public at this point that he and I share something special. I still can’t quite call it love, at least from my end, and part of me hates that I can’t, but I’m not about to force myself into something I may regret. Regardless, even if I don’t quite love him yet, I know I want to be with him. And I just love the look on Aerial’s face when I wrap a single foreleg around his back. Jealous much, sweetheart?

Scar approaches me and takes my hoof. His grip is old and frail, yet firm enough. “Then it is absolute. Lady Tangerine, you are now one of us. Our sister in arms.”

I’m about to thank him sincerely for all the Carrier Clan has done for me in these trying times, but something else distracts me. I swear I hear Wolf River mutter, “And in blood...” with a remorseful scowl. He notices me and forces his smile back on. “Congratulations, M’lady.”

It goes without saying, but I give him a very grateful, tender embrace while the Carrier Clan, my new family, all stomp their hooves on the cobblestone for me, giving shouts worthy of a charge into war.

I’m still getting used to having a smile on my face so constantly. I believe it started the night after Wolf River and I made love. Our way about each other telegraphed our relationship, but it was accepted by the others. This is happiness, being surrounded by those who care for me. Those who accept me. I never realized how much I missed this. Acceptance. I just love that word!

Roches raises his sword in a dramatic fashion. “Juniper berry mead! For everypony!”

It doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that they seem even more excited for alcohol than anything else. I sympathize with their cheering, actually. I could go for something sweet. I’ll just be on my merry way to a drunken stupor, but obviously I won’t go overboard. I have a reputation to live up to.

Wolf River’s touch stops me from sauntering away. “M’lady?”

“What is it, dearest?” I ask, garnering a bit of surprise from him.

“You sound... different. It’s as if your accent has changed.”

“Oh?” I touch the nape of my neck, then my mouth. I've hardly taken notice of such a thing. I chuckle. “Well, it’s a bit of a shallow excuse, but upon joining the Imperial Legion, I forced a more royal voice, something befitting the kingdom. My side of the family, before I was married to Oregano, lived very far away, you see. Now that I don’t need to impress anypony, I suppose I’ve done away with the false voice and fallen back into my native one.”

“I prefer you to be true to yourself,” says Wolf River with a smile. “Not to mention, northern accents are just dead sexy.”

I would have taken offense to that months ago. Instead, I kiss him for the compliment. “Only for you, then.”

“But, uh... It’s your pride in being true to yourself that makes me dread speaking of this. Come with me.”

I’d do anything he would ask of me. We trot away from the training grounds and the celebrating companions to meet at the side of Horsevaskr. The hillside forge rests above, but I see nothing significant about this stone wall. At least, until Wolf River taps three nondescript cracks. This silently causes a large stone to move aside, revealing a small yet manageable entrance into a cave.

I’m unable to say much other than, “Wow.”

Wolf River nods. “What you see here is the entrance to our sacred ritual grounds.”

As per any new location, I’m tempted to take a step inside, but he halts me with a single hoof.

“D-don’t. Only those who are a part of the inner circle of the Carriers are permitted.”

“Oh, yes, you’ve mentioned them before.”

“As I said, the inner circle are the only ones who are lycans. Or they're part of the inner circle because they are lycans. You can’t have one without the other. Either way, you’re not permitted entry.” He pauses and faces away. “Y-yet.”

I should have known he would explain such secret matters to me. It’s like dangling a chain in front of child’s face and not expecting him to have a grab at it. “So, why would you show me this if I’m not part of the circle?”

His grimace says it all.

“You want me to join.”

Wolf River is many things, but dishonest is not one of them. Blunt, however, is. “Yes.”

I shake my head strongly. I can’t make my refusal to such an offer clear enough. I trot away from him. I’m hardly mad, I just can’t tolerate the thought of becoming such a beastly thing. “I already told you, I would join the Carrier Clan, but I would never become a lycan. That is not who I am.”

I need a bit of fresh air. I ascend the stone steps to the forge, which is currently unoccupied, yet still hot and ready for use. Beside the hot coals and anvil is a pitcher of water, which I take a good look into. Rather, my reflection. I hardly recognize myself as I was months ago. My mane has become long and unkempt, my face dirtied, and my armor is mismatched bits of iron and leather. There is nothing about me that says Imperial anymore. Despite this, I look so alive. I feel alive. It’s like I was sedated during my years as a soldier. Not that I was; sedatives and drugs are for prisoners. But I cannot imagine this lively face transforming into that of a wolf’s.

Wolf River joins me in the reflection. “I never said you had to become one,” he says. “I would never force you into anything.”

That is comfort enough for me. I embrace him again, and even though our armor separates us from truly intimate touch, I still feel closer to him than ever. He would make for a good husband, should matters ever come to that.

First, I look over the rooftops of Trottingham. It’s amazing how much this town has thrived despite holding neutrality in this war until recently. It’s equally impressive that the townsfolk were able to recover from the battle with such haste. While that struggle was more than two months ago, its damages were rather severe, and yet, the townsfolk carried on in a manner that would make Platinum proud. I truly have come to appreciate Trottingham.

After that gorgeous view, I turn to look beyond the walls, out into the fields of Equestria. That outside land is filled with bandits, thugs, beasts, Blackwings and other hazards that could make anypony fear even setting a single hoof beyond these walls. Yet, out there, nary a few day trip away, is my home. Von Spice Villa, formerly owned by my late husband Oregano, gifted to me along with the title of General. At least I still own the former.

I’m overcome with a bout of homesickness, but also a brilliant idea. I turn to Wolf River and say, “Would you like to meet my children?”

~Vision End~