“Let it be known that my actions are nothing beyond what has been done in eras past. For a new way to come to be, the old way must wither and die, whether it be through the passing of time, or at the end of a bloodied blade. I will not wait for the former.”

“How the hell am I supposed to attract the finest warriors of Equestria when my most impressive weapons aren’t within plain view?” Rosemary asks in a demanding tone. She gestures towards the double bladed sword and toothed zweihander on the front desk, which Shae levitates towards the upper racks upon the wall.

Shae speaks to Rosemary firmly, but not angrily. “If you place so much value in your work, which you obviously do, as these blades are fantastic, then you won’t have to worry about them not getting anypony’s attention. Unless, of course, you want thieves stealing these from the bottom racks?”

“Who’s going to steal from a weapon shop?! In bloody Everfree?!” Rosemary exclaims. “The owner could cut them down on sight!”

“Or a child could cut themselves, if these fine weapons were within their reach,” Shae says.

Rosemary waves the comment off as if it were a bug. “A child ain’t that stupid.”

Shae’s eye twitches. Her voice immediately goes from stern to anguished as she advances on Rosemary. “But they’re not cautious! And do you think a child stops at an adult’s warning? They don’t! I’ve had to rescue Luna from the diamond moat twice!”

“Woah, darlin’...” Rosemary immediately drops her brash attitude and gives Shae a comforting embrace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch a nerve.” She turns around and looks at the exotic weapons on the upper wall. “Huh. You know, they actually do look quite good up there.”

“Of course they do,” Shae mutters with a disgruntled groan.

Shae takes a walk outside of the weapon shop. The cold air helps wash away any remaining aggression as she sits down on the porch. She looks up at the wooden sign just above the front steps, which boasts painstakingly articulate red letters.

“Forge, smithery, weapon’s shop, it’s all the same to me. I finally did it!” Rosemary flashes a grin at Shae before she glances up at the sign as well. “And, of course, I owe it all to you, my dear.”

Shae holds up her hoof, commanding Rosemary to stop talking. The mare stops immediately as she takes a rest at Shae’s side. “Rose, I don’t need compliments right now,” Shae grumbles.

“Well, what do you need?” Rosemary asks eagerly.

“I don’t know… I haven’t had a moment to myself in a week. I’ve barely had an opportunity to pick up a book, let alone practice my routine spells…” Shae shakes her head as if she’s trying to dislodge something. “Never mind. It’s none of your concern.” She looks back at the wall-bound swords. “And don’t worry about a thing. Warriors from all over will love your creations, no matter where they’re placed."

Rosemary gives her a smile, before looking at the wall with a frown. "So... if someone wants to buy one, how'm I supposed to get it down?"

Shae answers by nudging Rosemary’s muzzle with her hoof. “Get a ladder, silly. And an assistant, perhaps.”

“Ah, right you are! Think I’ll be payin’ a visit to a carpenter, he ought to have an assistant lyin’ about— I mean, a ladder.” Rosemary chuckles at her little joke. “So, where are your lovely daughters on this fine day?” she asks Shae, gesturing to the clear blue sky, which is reflected in the many puddles of water on the street; remnants of a recent rainstorm. “Off on their own, are they?”

“For the moment. Celina may need me for emotional support, but she is very mature for her age. It’s funny how often I have to remind myself she’s only about two years old. She carries herself like a mare of… I’m tempted to say, twenty? Anyway, she at least shoulders some of my burden. Luna, however, requires constant attention.”

“The wee bairn’s adorable face has worn out its novelty, has it?”

Shae shakes her head. “No, she’s a doll, same as ever. But if I leave her alone for an instant, my heart more or less freezes, and she becomes distraught. I worry that being a newborn in the form of a child might not bode so well for her. What if she remains this way forever?”

“Come now, lassie. If Celina’s form is malleable, then so is Luna’s.” Rosemary nudges Shae with both hooves. “Errant concerns ain’t gettin’ you nowhere. You have to give those worries a smack on the bum and show ‘em the door. Kiss ‘em goodbye. Ooh, speakin’ of…”

Shae understands Rosemary’s implication instantly. She turns to her and meets her lips halfway.

“Feelin’ better?” Rosemary whispers.

“A little, but…” Shae presses her hoof to Rosemary’s cheek. “Huh, you’re shivering,” she comments, feeling a slight tremble in the skin of her paramour. She also takes notice of Rosemary’s smile, which seems unusually forced.

“That’s odd.” Rosemary shrugs it off and hops to her hooves, stepping into the street. She appears to be deliberately looking away from Shae, even though she speaks normally. “Oh, and another thing, lassie. Word on the tongue of Everfree claims the jarls are arrivin’ today.”

Shae stands up quickly. “Already?”

“Yep. If those rumors are of the true sort, we should be gettin’ ourselves cleaned up.” Rosemary shows off the dirt and grime on her hooves and face, prompting Shae to do the same. “Do you think Her Majesty would mind if I made use of the royal baths along with ya, seein’ as I’m gonna be attendin’ and all?”

Shae is about to answer with a blush on her face when a distant roar interrupts her. A short yet tense moment passes over her and Rosemary in the wake of the roar, the both of them waiting until the appropriate time to relax, and pass off the booming noise as some sort of wind gust, or perhaps a beast in transport.

Rosemary is the first to break the silence. “Perhaps that was—”

The terse period of rest is brought to an end by the sound of a stallion and mare screaming (Their pitches being not all that different from one another’s). Multiple ponies come around the corner, running at breakneck speeds, obviously straining themselves to get away from something awful.

The source of the roar makes itself known. What looks like a lion turns the corner, followed by the head of a goat, and a tail in the form of a snake.

“Divines, that’s a chimera…” Shae mutters, stricken with both surprise and fascination, despite the panic.

One of the stallions stumbles on a dip in the road, falling onto his side. He rolls over and looks up at the lion’s head, captivated by fear. He lets out a yell before he’s tossed away by the back of the lion’s paw.

“Oh, fuck, that’s a chimera!” Rosemary yells.

The beast lets out another roar that causes the rain puddles to ripple and shift. It’s like a solid object impacting on Shae and Rosemary, who both lose their balance, left disarmed as the chimera comes sprinting their way.

Shae manages to get her bearings quicker than Rosemary. She dives, grabbing Rosemary and pinning her to the ground just as the chimera comes barreling past. As it does so, Shae takes notice of a chainless shackle bound to its right hind leg.

“Thanks, lassie,” Rosemary gasps as she gets back up, alongside Shae. “What the hell is that thing doing here, of all the bloody places?!” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she turns towards her weapons shop. “Time to armor up.”

“What do you need?” Shae asks as she heads up the steps.

Rosemary considers her options for a second. She stomps her hoof as she makes her decision. “Any blade with an ice enchantment, some daggers, and my rope. You’ll know where they are, you put them on the middle shelf!”

Shae runs into the shop. Just above the entrance to the storage room is a steel cinquedea. Shae levitates it off of its hooks. She then goes over to the desk and looks through the cupboards until she locates Rosemary’s lasso behind a collection of iron ingots. She takes that as well.

Before she leaves the store, Shae opens her pouch and takes out Clover the Clever’s amulet, quickly putting it on. She takes a deep breath as she feels immense power coursing through her entire being, an assured smile crossing her muzzle.

“Time to go.”

~Platinum~

“My apologies for my earlier surprise. I had expected to see Stonewall. He was quite a gem when he was the jarl of Dragon Bridge…” I clear my throat and rethink my words to young Ironclad, who has a professional look in all but his dull expression, which is that of a pony who only partially wishes to be here. “Nevertheless, as a son of Stonewall, I’m sure you’ll fill his role just fine.”

“Just as you’ve been filling in the role of a ruler just fine for the past several years,” says Ironclad. It’s difficult for me to tell whether or not he’s being truthful or passive aggressive. He seems removed, choosing to look out beyond the balcony instead of facing me. His little brother, Onslaught, is humming to himself as he rests in the waiting area.

“In any case, I commend you on being the first to arrive,” I tell him. “Punctuality is admirable, especially to this old mare. This war could have gone in many different directions if I had acted sooner. My lack of punctuality and preparation on the issue was responsible for many jarls severing ties with the Empire.”

“Be grateful that some of us decided to come back.”

I turn around to see a familiar mare of gold fur and a cerulean mane, who wears overly extravagant yellow robes and a feathered cowl. She’s entering the waiting hall alongside some steel armored, rather unprofessional seeming guards, who don’t even bother to walk in unison. Very impressive. The pitch black child who walks aside her in oversized robes is far more imposing.

I mask my sigh with a cough. “Drake. Thank you for showing yourself in rather than seeking my permission to enter; it saves me so much trouble. Might I lie to you and say this is an honor?” I ask, approaching her slowly.

She shows me a garish smile in turn. “And it nearly makes me vomit to say it’s wonderful to see you again.” She gestures to the child. “Say hello, Boysenberry.”

The child is a much more respectable individual for actually bothering to take a bow. “Your Majesty.”

“You raised him well. Or does he act in defiance of your parentage?” I jape at Drake.

“Boysenberry is whatever he wishes to be. As am I, and I wish to see myself to the dining hall. Might I receive directions?”

I’m tempted to call out the flask of liquid glass bound to her sash, but that would be beneath me. “Downstairs and to the right. The chefs are serving baked potatoes.”

“Fantastic,” Jarl Drake says with enough false enthusiasm to offend a toddler. She begins to take her leave, motioning for Boysenberry to follow.

Ironclad has kept a neutral expression all the while. Looking at me, he says, “I could cut the hatred in here with a knife. What in Tartarus happened to cause such a rift between you and her?”

“Not up to date on this war, are you?” I ask him.

“The most Dragon Bridge has seen of the war has been passersby soldiers, My Queen.”

“Understood. Then allow me to explain. Follow me.”

I lead Ironclad into the room across from the waiting area. This is the war room. On the wall above several rows of seats, another portrait of my beloved Hurricane in his armor can be seen, next to several decorative swords and shields, each bearing gold and purple accents. In the center of the room is a map of Equestria, riddled with gold, white, and black flags.

I point to a long stretch of black inking on the center on the map. “Ghastly Gorge. It separates the majority of Imperial and Blackwing occupied territories. As you can see, aside from our recent allegiances with Trottingham and Baltimare, little progress has been made for both the Legion and the Blackwings in years past. No matter what move one side makes, the other side finds some means of countering it. It’s just minor scuffles across the land at this point.”

“I assume Trottingham was neutral until recently?” Ironclad asks.

I make a long, dramatic sigh. “That’s where the problem with Jarl Drake arises. See, Trottingham was loyal to the Legion in the early days of the war, until we decided to march on the Blackwings at Ghastly Gorge. They intended to cross the gorge and scatter across Equestria. The Legion made an attempt to stop them.”

“Did you lose?”

My laugh is hollow and humorless. “I wish we had lost, then we would have had something to come back from. No, this was a worthless stalemate. Our bomb supplies were prematurely detonated, resulting in the deaths of several soldiers from both sides. Several bad calls were made, causing even more deaths and unnecessary injuries. In the end, each side’s resources were exhausted to the point where victory was meaningless. Both Imperials and Blackwings alike retreated, broken and weary.”

“And the one who made those bad calls?”

“You know who,” I mutter glumly. “Jarl Drake relied on the liquid glass to predict the outcome of the battle, and she made her choices to attain that end. But the future changed. In the end, the deaths of those soldiers fell on her. To avoid potential inhouse struggles, Jarl Drake retreated to her home of Trottingham and claimed neutrality.”

Ironclad doesn’t ask any further questions, instead simply tilting his head slightly. “Huh.”

To this day, I don’t know whether or not my distaste towards Jarl Drake is due to her actions in the battle of Ghastly Gorge, her continued use of the liquid glass despite its failures, or her sudden desire for my Legion’s assistance the moment this war actually meant a damn to her. She performed executions on wandering Blackwings, for Fauste’s horn! She honestly didn’t expect Shokenda to react?

I think the true question is whether or not these feelings are even warranted. Should I let my anger go so Jarl Drake and I can work together, like in days past? That wouldn’t be so awful.

My contemplating comes to an end when Captain Gauntlet comes into the room. Seeing a soldier so well-composed is a welcome sight. “Your Majesty.” He salutes me and bows. “Two more jarls have arrived in the city. Jarl Golden Sieve of Baltimare and Jarl Moonshine of Tempest seek permission to approach the Rainbow Palace. Also—”

I point to Gauntlet as I show Ironclad an intense stare, because sometimes it’s difficult to let go of one’s longheld anger. “You see? That is etiquete! I never thought I’d see the day that one could learn class from Golden Sieve!”

“Ma’am!” Gauntlet yells over my obsessing. “Princess Celina and Princess Luna also came by, claiming there’s a chimera running about the commercial district. And judging by their panicked expressions—”

“Gauntlet.” I lay my hoof on the captain’s pauldron. “After this matter is settled, I personally want to hear why the hell you didn’t tell me that first!”

“Protocol?” is all he has to say.

I chuckle as I give Gauntlet a sympathetic hug. “You are a damn fool. Divines bless you.” I let go of him and immediately change into a commanding mien. “Now deal with the matter!”

"Y-yes ma'am! At once!" The wonderful idiot almost bludgeons himself with how fast he salutes before sprinting away.

“Ah, what a trooper. Taking on the responsibilities of a general whilst overseeing Everfree’s local law enforcement can’t be easy, but has he ever complained? The answer is no.”

Ironclad raises a brow at me. “Why haven’t you made anypony else a general?”

“Because I can’t seem to find anypony to suit the rank. Don’t get me wrong, Gauntlet does fine work, but I’m still waiting for the perfect soldier to take up the mantle and lead Equestria’s armies into battle.”

~Vision End~

“This... is easily the highlight of my day.”

Tohro’s hind legs dangle over the edge of the pub balcony. He has a half-full mug of mead in one hoof and a wing blade in the other as he watches the street below. Several townsfolk have all gathered to see a peculiar sight, yet are also backing away from it at the same time.

Despite being well aware of how dangerous a chimera can be, Tohro can’t help but find the sight of the beast pawing at an overturned cabbage cart absolutely hilarious. He’s more amused by the townsfolk, however. “They’re like fish to gilimmering ore, ain’t they? Mate?”

Caro comes out onto the balcony, looking rather flustered. “Must I set hoof in a bar without being hounded? Wolves to a sheep, these ones… Honestly, I appreciated recognition once upon a time, but these ponies need to stop…” He takes a brief swig of his mead as he joins Tohro at the balcony’s edge. He points his mug in the direction of the chimera, whose goat head is wolfing down cabbages two at a time. “Some of them are asking me to deal with that thing. You reckon we should?”

Tohro gives Caro a happy sneer. “Is that reluctance I hear?”

“Yes,” Caro bluntly states. “I mean, isn’t this something to be handled by the proper authority, over some maniac with a sword?”

“Mate, in case you haven’t realized, we’re both maniacs. But, luckily for you and everypony else down there, I just so happen to be a maniac of the proper authority.” Tohro taps the chestplate of his Imperial armor. “Back in a tick.”

Tohro leaps off of the balcony and flies over the crowd, landing in front of the chimera. It doesn’t pay him any mind as it continues its feast. Tohro points at the three bystanding earthwalker guards and motions to them.

“Fellas, we need to clear these ponies out of here before we take care of this thing,” he advises. “And let’s avoid having it killed. We don’t need any red staining our lovely streets, do we? Only attack it as a last resort. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” all three of the guards say at once.

“Of course you do!” Tohro exclaims. “Now, do your job!”

“Understood,” says one of the guards. He and the other two disperse and approach the crowd, waving them away. “Please stand clear of the chimera, everypony. Stay away from this street until we have the beast apprehended.”

“Could any mages come forth and assist us in tranquilizing this terror?” another guard asks.

A certain mare of lavender cuts through the dithering crowd with her foreleg held high and her horn aglow with a harsh red aura. “At your service!” She steps into the fray without hesitation. Rosemary follows closely behind with a rope gripped in her mouth.

“Ah, the lovely ladies of Dragonrein have arrived,” Tohro says. He spins around and points at the lion’s head. “You know how to properly dispose of this thing, yes?”

“Of course. Bestiary classes were another strong subject for this unicorn. We only need to tranquilize the lion head for the whole thing to come crashing down.” Shae lights up her horn. Her red aura wraps around Rosemary’s rope and takes it from her mouth. “Mind if I take this one?” she asks Rosemary.

The broad mare backs away. “Be my guest.”

Shae advances on the chimera slowly. She is elaborate in her approach, avoiding anything that could possibly serve as a means to interrupt its eating and possibly send it on a rampage. She even steps around puddles and small rocks.

“Easy. Easy, girl…” Rosemary keeps whispering. Her voice isn’t audible to anypony but herself and Shae. “You can do this…”

Tohro has one of his forelegs slipped into his feathers. His hoof is touching a wing blade, which he intends on drawing should anything go awry. His eyes travel routinely between Shae and the chimera’s three heads.

“Here… we… go.” Shae casts the rope out.

Caro tenses up. He leans over the pub balcony, watching closely. His tongue curls as he prepares to use his voice, just in case. He trusts Shae’s abilities implicitly, but he knows the chimera might not go along so easily.

The rope ensnares the lion head’s muzzle, causing the beast to rise from the wreckage of carts and cabbages in surprise. The lion head thrashes to shove off the rope, but Shae’s magical grip is stronger.

“Go down!” Shae shouts. An intense stream of blue light travels along the rope, passing onto the chimera in waves. The beast stops struggling and begins to stumble, the lion head’s eyelids starting to flutter and droop.

Rosemary is crouching, teeth clenched in anticipation. “That’s it, that’s it…”

“Come on…” Tohro hisses.

The goat head leans towards the lion head’s ear and lets out a grindingly loud bleat, then grabs the rope in its mouth and tears it away, ripping it in two. The lion head immediately shakes off its sleepiness. The whole of the chimera starts stomping about in a rage.

Shae backs away with a strained look upon her face. “I’m sorry! There was nothing I could’ve—”

“Don’t fret!” Tohro chirps. “We’ll just have to get a little rougher. Wouldn’t be the first— Agh!” His reassurance is cut off by the snake smashing into him. He goes soaring, landing on his back and rolling into the outer wall of the pub.

Caro closes his mouth, interrupting his pending shout. He leaps from the balcony, lands on his hooves and goes to Tohro, lifting him up in his forelegs. “Are you well?”

Tohro’s head is limp and he speaks with a slur, as if he had just ingested an unhealthy quantity of mead. “He who knows what I know but knows not what I know, knows many things.”

“Tohro!” Caro desperately yells.

“I’m kidding, mate.” The smirking pegasus immediately snaps back into his fighting stance as he pulls away from Caro’s embrace. “Come on.” He spreads his wings and flies back to the chimera.

“I suppose diplomacy can’t succeed all the time,” Caro says, drawing his sword in his mouth. He pauses in his first step when he realizes how long it has been since he’s unsheathed it.

“It’s only an animal, mate,” Tohro says. “It’s better for us to do away with it before anypony gets hurt.”

“Very well...”

The snake tail is lashing out at Shae and Rosemary, alternating between each of the mares. Shae blinks away from each attack, and Rosemary is nimble enough to step out of the way, or counter the snake’s bite with a well-timed swing of her ice-enchanted sword. She slashes at its mouth as it opens wide, causing it to reel and spit out chunks of ice.

Meanwhile, the goat head raises itself up high and lets out another bleat. A purple aura emanates from its mouth, quickly growing in size.

“The hell…?” Tohro asks, utterly bewildered. “Shae! Can chimeri use magic?”

“Not normally, but—” Shae lifts her hooves, raising a segment of the street. The snake head slams into it, then falls to ground in a daze. “Somepony must have tampered with it!”

Rosemary hops onto the street shield. “Somepony with a cruel sense of humor, that’s for true. Let’s amend that!” She makes another leap, throwing out her forelegs and seizing the snake just as it regains consciousness.

“Rose, wait!”

The goat head’s magic spell bursts, briefly washing over the ponies of Dragonrein and coating the area in an overwhelming wave of darkness. When it passes over, no harm seems to have been done.

Tohro is about to draw his crossbow when he stiffens up and collapses. “Agh!”

Rose grunts as she is yanked away from the snake and thrown straight down to the ground by some invisible force.

“Divine damned gravity magic! Shae!” Caro yells as his sword falls out of his mouth. He’s strong enough to resist the sudden bout of weight, though it still feels as if he’s carrying several bags of gold ore. Even a few steps makes him sweat. “Shae! Can you do something?!”

It’s taken Shae until now to realize she’s perfectly fine, even though she couldn’t summon a ward in time. She quickly figures out what saved her when she notices the glow of Clover’s amulet on her chest. “Thank you,” she whispers to her late idol.

“Shae!” Caro yells again. He’s trying to drag Tohro out of harm’s way; the chimera is fast approaching and the lion head’s fangs are bared. Small flames erupt from its gaping maw of a mouth.

Tohro wears a false smile. “Whenever’s convenient for you, love!”

Shae takes a page out of Rosemary’s book and makes a leap off of her constructed shield, levitating herself over the beast. She concentrates drops of water into her hooves, forming a large sphere, then casts a small fireball into it, causing it to boil. The instant she lands in front of the chimera, she throws the orb of scalding hot water into its open mouth.

The chimera thrashes and rolls as all of its heads cry out in pain. The lion head stains the street with water, steam, and blood from its mouth.

Shae casts three beams of dispelling magic from her horn, one for each of her friends. Caro, Tohro, and Rosemary all rise, now free of their artificial burden.

Tohro flaps his wings and does a flip in the air, laughing joyously. “Ah, you don’t appreciate the little things until they’re taken away from you.” He holds out his foreleg and flicks it, revealing his hidden blade. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” The hidden blade catches onto the chimera’s body as it comes sprinting past. “Whee!”

The chimera keeps shaking and thrashing. Tohro is flailing about, but the blade has stuck in deep enough to keep him from being thrown off. Even when the chimera rolls over, Tohro remains bound to its fur, albeit with a few bruises and pebbles in his mane when he comes back up.

“You’re not throwing me off, beastie!” Tohro pulls a blade from his wings with his free hoof. “Sorry about this.” He hacks away at the chimera, drawing blood.

Shae gallops alongside the rampaging chimera. She effortlessly levitates out of the way of the snake’s attempted bites, casting non-elemental bursts at its legs. This impairs the monster’s movement long enough for Tohro to keep a steady grip as he attacks.

Shae stops her spellcasting when she takes notice of the townsfolk ahead. Many have turned around. Those who don’t run away are frozen in fear at the sight of the chimera speeding towards them. “Oh, damn!” Shae fears she doesn’t have a protective spell large or strong enough to resist the strength of the beast. Nevertheless, she casts her hooves out and tries...

“Wuld nah!” Caro flies in from a streak of blue light, scraping to a stop right in front of the chimera’s path. He faces the bystanders and shouts, “Jaaril lahspaan helt!” As the last word leaves his mouth, a luminescent shield spreads across the width of the street. The chimera hits the shield running, getting pushed backwards in a flash of light. The lion head’s muzzle is bent out of shape, clearly broken.

“Fantastic!” Shae cheers.

The snake is erect, hissing at the lion head. When Caro sees this, he turns to Shae and smiles. “Follow my lead.”

Shae follows as Caro gallops at his shield. He leaps towards it, then is thrown away, arching through the air, right towards the chimera. He lets out a happy battle cry as he raises his sword.

Shae kicks off the wall as well. For a moment, she’s dazed and disoriented from the force, but she shakes it off and aims for the exposed snake. She watches as Caro gives it a mighty slash, cutting through a significant portion of the snake. It screeches like a banshee, flailing about erratically.

A familiar ethereal weapon falls into Shae’s hooves as her horn comes alight. She spins her scythe above her head and, with an aerial twirl, slashes at the snake. Before she hits the ground, she’s able to catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. The snake is soaked in its own blood, but it’s still alive, wailing and screaming.

“Lassie!” Rosemary jumps into Shae’s path and holds out her hoof. Shae grabs it, and is spun around by Rosemary before being thrown back towards the snake.

Shae raises her scythe once again as she closes her eyes. She feels the Fae in her body. She concentrates as much of it as she can into her forelegs, to her hooves, and into her scythe.

She opens her eyes. The scythe now glows to an almost blinding brilliance, the blade larger than the length of her own body. She swings at the snake, silencing its cries. She expects it to be cut in two, but instead, it complete disintegrates into light, all the way down to the chimera’s lower body.

The scythe fades away. Shae loses consciousness before she hits the grass and rolls onto her back.

Rosemary only pauses for a second, sighing with relief as she sees Shae drawing breath. She then picks up speed and leaps at the chimera. She kicks off of its back and reaches for the goat head. As she seizes its neck by her hind legs, she reaches into her coat and presents two daggers, which become engulfed in flame the instant she shoves them both into the goat head.

She looks over to Tohro, who has left several large gashes in the barrel of the chimera. He disposes of his weakened, bloodsoaked wing blade and reaches for another.

“Tohro!” Rosemary shouts. “I need ya!”

“Of course, love!” he shouts back, yanking his hidden blade out of the beast’s side and bounding up its side with a flap of his wings. He plunges the blade into the goat’s neck as the chimera rears, trying to knock them off.

A mighty bellow rends the air. Rosemary and Tohro both assume it to be the lion, but then they realize that it’s Caro, who has once again gone airborne with the help of his shield. “GET OUT OF THE WAY!” he roars.

Tohro and Rosemary both leap off the chimera, leaving their blades lodged into the goat head.

Caro turns his head skyward and shouts, “ZAHKRII BEL KINZ!” Three golden swords materialize over his head, then fly downward, straight towards the goat. One goes through its left eye. Another pierces its muzzle, going clean through to the mouth and out the bottom, and the last one lands a decisive blow right through the forehead. The goat head falls limp with a labored bleat.

Caro lands on three hooves behind the chimera, his remaining hoof taking his sword from his sheath once again as the monster turns around. He scuffs at the ground, meeting the intense leer of the lion’s head. “COME ON!” he yells.

With a feral snarl, the goat’s head hanging limply at its side, the chimera rushes at Caro, mouth yawning like the entrance to a cavern of fire. Caro sets his hooves and rears back, throwing his sword as hard as he can at the raging beast.

“FEIM. ZII. GRON.”

With a roar, the chimera barrels into him.

The chimera stumbles as it continues past where Caro had been, a wispy-looking stallion standing calmly in his place. The beast makes one last attempt to turn around once more, wailing through the sword lodged in its mouth, before falling to its side, blood pooling from its lips. It dies in silence.

The wisp of a stallion begins to shed the ethereal glow, his form solidifying, until it reverts into the visage of the Dragonborn.

Tohro flaps his wings and thrusts his hoof into the air. “Haha! Knew you’d make it!”

Caro grimaces, eyeing his recently fallen foe. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d actually go through me. Never had the opportunity to try that one before.” He looks at the ground beneath his hooves, his grimace becoming a frown. “Makes you wonder how I haven’t fallen through the earth.” He shrugs, putting such worries out of mind. “At least it works on both myself and ally alike; I just wonder how the magic can tell.”

Rosemary sneaks up behind Caro and gives him a friendly jab to the barrel and cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself thinkin’ about it. Just focus on that!” She points to the townsfolk beyond the shield. They’ve grown in numbers since the last time Caro saw them, and none of the fear from before remains. He can’t help but wear a humbled smile.

“That was just a spectator sport to them,” he says.

“Of course it was!” Rosemary chirps. “And you want to know why? Because they knew, without a doubt, that you and the rest of us had this situation under control. They had nothing to fear—”

“—so they gather and cheer!” Tohro interrupts. He hovers in front of the crowd as the shield disappears. He waves his hooves up and down, with the crowd’s ecstatic yells rising and falling in sync. “That’s right, everypony! The Dragonborn does it once again! Praise him, if you wish!”

“Take some of the credit!” Caro yells to Tohro. Beneath all of the noise, his advisement goes unheard, and Tohro continues to lead the crowd in praise of the Dragonborn. Caro is left only to sigh and appreciate the moment. “...You’re such a fool.”

~Shae~

“Mommy?”

“Mother, please wake up.”

I grunt and squint as I start to come to. Sadly, this is one of many instances where I’ve awoken from over-exertion, but it still hurts as much as the first time, and I doubt I’ll be waking up in the healing quarters of the academy. “Mmmrng...” I thought not. I’m lying on grass. Although that is preferable to the street.

I can hear Luna humming anxiously. Her wings are buzzing. “Be still, sister. She’s coming to,” Celina tells her.

It still takes me a moment to finally open my eyes. When I do, the first thing I see are my two wonderful daughters. Luna is looking down on me, biting her lip in worry, and Celina is smiling warmly, but obviously just as worried. “It’s alright,” I start to say. “Mommy’s just a little tired. Put too much... magic... into...” I trail off as terror grips my heart.

I see her. Clover is standing behind Celina, staring at me with disapproval. Before I can blink, I’m already on my hooves, a fire spell building in my horn... but she’s gone. She was never there, the rational part of my mind tells me, but I can barely hear it over the pounding of my heart.

“Mother? Are you sure you’re alright?” Celina nuzzles me, snapping me out of my trance.

“Sorry,” I say, my voice drawn and hoarse. “Just a nightmare… It’s nothing to worry about.” My words don’t seem to reassure Celina, but she nods slowly and lets it drop. I fear that it won’t be for long.

All I know right now is I need to get some rest, but I can’t do that so long as Celina and Luna need me…All I can do is reach for my neck and remove Clover’s amulet. I feel a considerable amount of looming dread leave my body, along with much of my power. Now I truly feel like I need to sleep.

~Vision End~

A middle-aged black gryphon in gold and black robes, a diamond bespeckled tiara, and several gold piercings crosses his legs as he leans back in his throne, which is being carried by four large earthwalkers.

“Well, he certainly knows how to make an entrance, as per the norm,” Tohro comments as he turns away from the crowd, whose cheers have long since dwindled.

“Who is that?” Caro asks.

“The jarl of Baltimare. Golden Sieve.”

The jarl in question makes a sound of curiosity as he takes notice of the corpse of the chimera, and proceeds to raise his talons.

“Halt!” he commands. “Let me off, I simply must have a look at this.” The earthwalkers stop trotting and kneel, allowing the gryphon to take his leave and approach the corpse. “Mercy me, what a sight! I’m not quite sure whether to be disgusted or in awe! Perhaps I’ll settle for both. Oh, couriers!”

“Yes, sir?” all of the throne holders ask at once.

“Do store my throne somewhere safe. In the meantime, I intend on finding the one responsible for this and paying them a hefty price for this beast’s pelt. I daresay they’ve earned it, if they’re still alive.”

Tohro, spotting an opportunity, smiles and approaches Golden Sieve. “You’ll want to speak to me and the rest of my guild, then. Particularly this large fellow.” He flies over to Caro and leads him towards the jarl, who doesn’t take more that a moment to recognize the earthwalker before him.

“Ah, the Dragonborn!” Golden Sieve chimes. “Of course, I’d expect no less from you. I’m sure slaying a wild chimera is like swatting a fly compared to the dragons you bring down on regular basis.”

Caro is preoccupied, looking between the townsfolk, the chimera’s corpse, and Shae, who is trudging along in the direction of the Rainbow Palace. “Ah, thank you…” He turns away from the jarl. “Not that I don’t appreciate the accolades, but I have matters to attend to.” He departs, going to Shae.

“Skittish one, isn’t he? Golden Sieve asks, obviously taken aback by such a dismissive greeting.

“You have no idea,” Tohro mutters. “But he’s family, and a damn fine hero, given a chance. Now, you were saying something about payment for my guild?”

“Yes, of course. I’m willing to pay eight thousand gold to Dragonrein if you would let me take the pelt.”

Tohro holds out his hoof. “Add five hundred to that purse and it shall be done.”

Before Golden Sieve can take the bargain, both his and Tohro’s hooves are frozen in place by a pink aura. Both of them turn their heads to see Queen Platinum strolling down the street with her head held high. Captain Gauntlet and several Imperial soldiers follow in her path, along with an unfamiliar unicorn.

This pony has a puce mane and a light blue body. His coat is long and groomed to perfection, though his scarlet robes are humble and undecorated.

Queen Platinum speaks. “If it were any other day I would allow Dragonrein to profit off of this victory, but circumstances have changed.” She waves the soldiers forward. “All of you, take the chimera’s corpse. It is to be pelted, and given in segments to the finest blacksmiths in Everfree.”

Rosemary, who has also been walking alongside Shae, suddenly gets on the ground, clasping her hooves together in prayer. Caro and Shae both have themselves a laugh.

Captain Gauntlet raises an eyebrow. “Its parts would make for fine additives to our weapons and armor. Still, why the urgency, My Queen?”

“Give it more than a second’s thought, dear, and you’d know exactly why.” Platinum summons a flat, glowing screen, on which the soldiers proceed to place the chimera’s remains. As the soldiers move the screen and the chimera, Platinum replies to Gauntlet. “By the end of the summit, if I play my cards right, I’ll have every Imperial soldier from here to the coast preparing for a legendary battle.”

Celina passes a small teacup to Shae. Its contents are a soothing green beverage, with a single sunflower petal lying on top. Shae takes a drink as quickly and greedily as possible without appearing brazen to the white robe clad sages sitting behind her.

As she swirls the sugary tea in her mouth, she feels as if she just had a good night’s sleep in just a few seconds. She swallows and says, “Thank you, dearest.”

“You’re welcome,” says Celina. “It’s a recipe I developed myself. I’ve been using to wake up early to work on a…” She shies away. “Well, you’ll see.”

Shae pauses in the middle of a sip. “What is it? Something for your garden?”

“No, it’s different. Just… different. I’ll show it to you soon.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fantastic,” Shae reassures Celina. “With you behind it, why would it be anything else?”

“Thank you, Mother. I do my best.”

Both Shae and Celina wave at Caro, Tohro, and Rosemary, who sit at the opposite side of the room. All except Caro return the gesture, as he happens to dozing off.

“Why aren’t you sitting with Auntie, Mother?” Celina asks.

“Platinum insisted I sit here, and I didn’t want to refute the offer. Apparently, this side of the room is reserved for royals…” Shae’s eyes widen as she takes another sip. Divines, now I am a noblemare! she thinks.

The humble blue pony from earlier passes by, turning his attention to both Shae and Celina. He quickly trots up to them and leans over the wooden half-wall that separates the audience from the rest of the war room. “Excuse me, Miss Shae? That is your name, is it not?” he asks in a soft voice.

“The one and only. Possibly,” Shae says, chuckling to herself. “Who might you be?”

“Jarl Moonshine of Tempest, at your service.” The pony takes a graceful bow, only to ruin it with a comedic hiccup. “Ahem. My apologies. These summits always make me nervous, and I certainly don’t have a shortage of mead at my side. ‘Tis a perk of living in Tempest, what with the brewery and all…”

“Queen Platinum told me about Tempest,” Celina says. “It’s one of the most peaceful towns in Equestria, isn’t it?”

“One of the most well-protected, that’s for true, and we don’t go wanting for profit, thanks to open trade. Zebras from Saddle Arabia come sailing by in droves, looking to trade their wares. More often than not, those wares are moon sugar plants, which they don’t ask much for. Some even decide to stay and work on the moon sugar plantations for cheap. Any amount of bits to them is like a treasure trove. Such treats, they are…” Moonshine clears his throat and waves his hoof. “My apologies. I ramble when I’m, uh, high-spirited. So, Miss Shae…”

“Yes?”

“That beautiful display with the chimera was certainly something to behold. Surely you intend on contributing to the war effort with such unparalleled talent in the magical arts?”

Shae opens her mouth, only to stay quiet. She slowly slumps back in her seat, turning her head towards Celina, then back to Jarl Moonshine. “I… have responsibilities.”

Moonshine nods after an uncomfortable pause. “Well, don’t be distant. I would love to speak to the mother of the beloved princesses, following this summit, of course. Speaking of, please don’t think less of me if I follow the Dragonborn's example and nod off.” He takes his leave, moving towards the center table of the room. “Miss Shae. Princess Celina.”

All present soldiers, sages, and visitors stand at attention just as Queen Platinum strolls into the war room, with a stack of parchment held in her magic grip. Jarl Drake, Jarl Golden Sieve and Jarl Ironclad follow, along with a few other jarls who all wear the royal colors of purple and gold. It’s a grand sight for Shae and the princesses, seeing a gathering of ponies of such power firsthoof.

For a fleeting moment.

The false smiles on Jarl Drake and Jarl Golden Sieve’s faces, along with Jarl Ironclad’s usual vacant expression, lend to a less impressive sight, as if the majesty of the moment has been physically removed and replaced with pure tension.

Tohro shifts his hind legs as he slacks in his seat. Captain Gauntlet, who stands next to him, looks to him with disapproval. “Must you be so lax in all times of crisis?”

“Must you not remove the metal phallus from your well-toned rump in all times of crisis?” Tohro snarks back. “In fact, if these blokes were to follow such an example, the Legion’s armory would have a surplus of blunt weapons.”

Captain Gauntlet, much to Tohro’s wide-eyed shock, cracks a smile. “Fair enough. I suppose I can differentiate myself from the malcontent in the room. If only I had his audacity…” The captain gestures to the sleeping Caro. “How is he so relaxed?”

Tohro starts to laugh aloud, but he interrupts himself and ensures that Caro is still sleeping. “Adorable, isn’t he? He’s been through hell and back in recent days. Of all times, this is an opportune one to take a nap. I’ll relay the gist of this gathering of misfits to him once it’s all done.”

“Better a warrior than a politician, that one.”

“Well, he tries.” Tohro playfully brushes Caro’s bangs aside.

Queen Platinum levitates a gavel from the central table and taps it twice. “Order, everypony in the war room,” she says, laying what little noise there is to rest. Without the murmurs of the audience, the room is deathly quiet, making the hostility between the jarls all the more apparent. “Thank you. Queen Platinum, current holder of the throne and sovereign leader of Equestria presiding. I will act as a mediator and the final decider of any movements, amendments, or acts presented by our attending jarls. Now, please introduce yourselves in counter-clockwise order from my position.”

The jarls have gathered around the table. The first to introduce himself is, “Jarl Moonshine of Tempest. It’s an honor to finally take part in this civil war in ways beyond economics.”

The next jarl speaks. “Jarl Partrich of Veilshire.”

And the next. “Jarl Golden Sieve of Baltimare, and might I say, this palace is almost half as grand as my residence. Bravo, Your Majesty.”

“Jarl Honeydew of Marekarth.”

“Jarl Drake of Trottingham.”

“Wait,” Golden Sieve interrupts. “You insisted on bringing the little one with you?” He points at Boysenberry, who has to sit on a stool for his head to breach the height of the table.

Jarl Drake snorts. “This ‘little one’ is a brilliant tactician, and I’ll have you know, he has been a major boon to my recent years as a jarl.”

“So it was he who suggested the executions of twelve wandering Blackwings?”

Queen Platinum taps the gavel again, clearing her throat and sending both Drake and Golden Sieve equally harsh glares. “Must you do this now, especially in front of Ironclad? Divines’ sake, it’s his first summit. He must be nervous enough already.”

Jarl Ironclad hasn’t lost any of his stoicism. “Actually, this is much more calm than I imagined it to be. Might I add,” he says, waving to the other jarls, “hello. I am the son of Stonewall. I apologize for the inconvenience of his passing.”

“Your loss is equal to ours, newly becrowned,” says Golden Sieve with a flourish of his talons. “Stonewall was a good friend.”

Platinum shuffles her parchment and clears her throat once again. “Well, it’s good to see at least some of us are getting along… Now, if we are all seated and content, I shall proceed with opening statements. Firstly…”

“...it’s settled, then. A small percentage of troops currently stationed in Trottingham and Everfree will be dispatched to Dragon Bridge to ensure safe travel of resources, as well as repel any dragon activity.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” says Ironclad. “I look forward to not having any Blackwings threatening my town, but without the Dragonborn, I doubt it’ll do much good against—”

“My apologies, but may I speak?” Boysenberry interrupts, raising his hoof.

“Go ahead,” says the queen.

“I have recently developed a short-term defense against dragons. By making use of a musical saw, or any other high-pitched noises, you can throw dragons off their flight paths and disrupt their attacks. It’s not a fool-proof tactic, but it could be the difference between life and death.”

“That’s…” Ironclad breaks into a very slight smile. “Thank you.”

Tohro is leaning over the barrier, also smiling at Boysenberry’s discovery, before he realizes who would specifically love to hear about this. He turns to Caro and gives him a firm nudge on the foreleg, causing him to stir.

“...s’it over?” the Dragonborn murmurs.

“Not quite, but listen…” Tohro whispers about Boysenberry’s new tactic into Caro’s ear, causing Caro’s expression to grow more lively by the second.

Boysenberry looks quite humbled by the praise of Ironclad, as well as the warm, approving beam of Jarl Drake. He leans over the table, towards Queen Platinum. “If it would please Her Majesty, I would like to submit more tactics against the dragons following this gathering.”

“By all means!” the queen says with youthful gusto, before she reclaims her professional demeanor. “Yes. Come to my chambers this evening.” She turns her head to Jarl Drake. “It seems some of us were wrong to judge in this particular issue.”

“Put your apology in writing, it’ll be more precious than any of my trophies and Golden Sieve’s treasury combined.” Jarl Drake swirls a chalice of mead and takes a gloatful drink before glancing at Boysenberry. “I’m proud of you,” she says, but the child is too occupied with taking down notes.

“Keep trying my patience, old friend…” Queen Platinum takes a deep breath. She scans over her papers and levitates one from the pile. “Right. Before we have ourselves a short pause for a little tea and fresh air, I think it’s time we discussed my movement for universal taxation—”

“And just what are you indicating?” Jarl Golden Sieve interrupts, snatching the paper from the queen’s magic grip.

Queen Platinum looks at the bedazzled gryphon as if he’s wearing even more offensively luxurious clothing. “Equal taxes across all Imperial holds, of course,” she states. “It would allow for a steadier flow of income for the Empire, ergo allowing the Imperial Legion more consistent intake of weapons and armor, ergo allowing us a larger quantity of soldiers, ergo allowing us to win this war, which, might I remind you, we are in the middle of?!”

Golden Sieve is leaning back in his seat. The queen may as well have physically wounded him. He adjusts his tiara and folds his arms across the table. “Might I be exempt?”

“Excuse me?” Queen Platinum asks, her mild voice teeming with all the anger in the world.

“I’m simply asking that Baltimare keep its current taxation policy. I have a stable system—”

“Truly stable! What a marvel!” Jarl Moonshine chirps, a friendly smile on his face despite his rude statement. “Guards paid on commission. Cutting taxation on the wealthy. Allowing thieves to run your streets and balance the wealth! Taking half of your funding for your own personal gain! Stable as a bridge! Sorry, a bridge made of clay.”

Golden Sieve slams his talons down. “Oh, I exploit the poor ones? How wealthy those zebracean farmers of yours must be! I’m sure they roll about in the mere bits they earn for a hard day’s work while you get drunk off your—” The avian jarl stops himself, taking notice of the queen’s steely gaze, as well as the visibly disturbed Princess Celina. “You know…” he continues, quietly. “I can’t help but notice that our newest attendant has yet to comment on any of this.” He gestures to Ironclad, who only acknowledges Golden Sieve with a brief glance.

“I’ll gladly go along with whatever the queen thinks is best,” says Ironclad. “And I think you need to accept her proposal.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, you’ll keep your wealth, and you can move ahead with your hedonistic life, but Shokenda Blackwing certainly won’t care how much gold you can fit on your robe without collapsing. No. The instant she decides she wants Baltimare, you’ll be the first to die, possibly made an example of in front of every pony you ever indirectly wounded by your greed. So, unless you want the last thing you see to be your black heart in the hooves of the Empire’s sworn enemy, you will shut your mouth and let the queen take your damn money.” He raises his hoof. “Who agrees with me?”

All at the table except for Golden Sieve raise their limbs immediately. The gryphon looks over his shoulder nervously, noticing that Tohro is also in visible agreement. “You traitor!”

Tohro simply shrugs and puts on a gleaming smirk. “I’m a soldier first and a thief second,” he whispers to Caro.

Golden Sieve turns back around, his beak clenched as he twiddles his talons. “...Equal taxation it is.”

“Your Majesty! I like this boy!” Moonshine cheers, flourishing his hooves at Ironclad. “Truly he has skin of steel.”

Queen Platinum seems preoccupied with her own thoughts. She is looking at her papers once again, but she isn’t reading them. After several seconds of silence on her part, she levitates all of her papers at once and flips them over.

“Your Majesty?” Moonshine repeats.

“I… I know it’s difficult. For all of you. Equestria is not well-sustained, it’s not well-kept, it’s not well-unified, it’s not… well. And it certainly isn’t the Equestria my husband wanted it to be. And now comes the part where one of you will tell me I should have let go of my husband’s ideals by now.”

The jarls share equally lost glances. Jarl Drake clears her throat and says, “...You should have let go of King Hurricane’s ideals by now…?”

“Yes. Just as he should have let go of Prince Squall. Just as how Prince Squall should have let go of his childish fantasies. Just as how Commander Zeus should have let go of his crusade. Just as how Clover the Clever should have let go of me. Just as how Jarl Drake should let go of her reliance on the liquid glass. Just as how Jarl Golden Sieve should let go of his wealth. Just as how we all should have let go of each other’s mistakes. It’s so easy to give up something you’ve held onto for years, isn’t it?”

Silence as pungent as death holds the war room.

“And yet, somehow, there have been those who have found the strength, hidden within their minds, souls, and blood, going beyond the idea that they should press on towards their glorious ends or proceed with their oh-so-necessary means. Like how Jarl Ironclad has already let go of his father. Just as King Hurricane and I let go of our past misgivings and fell in love.”

Between her passionate words, Queen Platinum finds a moment to sniffle. Her fresh tears are stained with eyeliner. Despite this, her expression remains stoic.

“Just as how I have been trying to let go of my mistakes, and forgive myself for everything I have ever done wrong. Scrutinizing Equestria’s excess population. Forbidding love within the confines of the Imperial Legion. So brilliantly banning worship of a war god in the hopes of preventing war. Taking in an alicorn and claiming her to be my daughter to fill the emptiness in my life.”

Princess Celina lowers her head, then looks at Queen Platinum. “I already forgave you,” she says, drawing the eyes of the jarls, sages, and Dragonrein alike.

The queen smiles, briefly bringing a little youth back to her face. “I doubt the rest of Equestria is so willing to follow, but it’s a start.” She returns to her grim expression. “But there is one thing I will never let go of, and it’s this.”

Queen Platinum raises her hooves to the air. Nothing happens, aside from a few curious murmurs from the jarls.

“Isn’t it a miracle that, despite our opposition being seemingly undefeatable, despite the unforgiving assault of the dragons, despite all of the pain and misery and torment that ravages Equestria, we’re still here, fighting for something better? Wouldn’t it be better just to give up and let death take us? Just… let go?”

Caro, who is still slouching in his seat, looks up at Tohro and smiles.

Queen Platinum shakes her head. “I won’t have it. My husband’s dream… King Hurricane’s dream, I won’t let go of it. Because I think, deep down, it’s something we all believe in. A free Equestria, one where an innocent will no longer fear death around the corner. Where there is no need for war. Where one can find peace in a simple life. Where blood need not be spilt.”

“That’s an awfully simple dream,” Jarl Ironclad comments.

“I think that’s why it’s worth striving for,” says Jarl Drake.

“No ulterior motives, no complex means…” Jarl Golden Sieve adds.

“Never saw you as such an idealist, Queen Platinum,” says Jarl Moonshine. “It’s rather disorienting, but I’m no stranger to that feeling. I’m with you all the way.”

“Thank you.” The queen sighs, taking a small cloth from the inside of her robes and dabbing her eyes. “I’m not asking you all to make it happen right away. But we can at least try. The first step is coming together and ending this war.”

“Might I interrupt?”

A chilling, brooding voice echoes through the war room. Even in its wake, it leaves an icy chill in the ears of all who hear it. Caro, Tohro, and Rosemary all get out of their seats, getting into battle stances.

The only one who doesn’t seem worried is Jarl Moonshine. He’s still smiling. “What was that? I swear, I haven’t had that much…”

Wisps of gold rise from the floor and travel to the center table in a spiral, forming a single harsh light that takes the form of an equine. As the figure becomes more defined, growing wings and a horn, it doesn’t take the occupants of the war room too long to figure out the identity of their surprise guest.

“Shokenda…” Caro hisses.

As the albino alicorn surveys the room with her vacant expression, she is oblivious to Jarl Golden Sieve slowly reaching into his robe, wrapping his talons around an extravagant dagger. He rises up and swings the dagger, only to have it pass right through Shokenda’s body.

Shokenda gives Golden Sieve a passing gaze and hums to herself. “Even if I had not chosen to appear as a projection, that wouldn’t have worked.” She steps forward at Queen Platinum, looking down upon her. “Hello.”

“I’m familiar with what you’re doing,” says the queen in a calm, restrained tone. “The same thing happened long ago, when you made known your desire to claim this land for yourself. Projecting your form across the land, spreading your message, calling for supporters...”

Shokenda nods. “That is true. I felt that this would be the best way to get your attention. With how long you’ve ignored me, my patience has worn thin.”

“Ignored?”

“You know what I speak of, Platinum. Ever since you humiliated me and my subjects in Trottingham, you’ve neglected to allow me a proper battle. You’ve relied on coward’s tactics. Taking away my assets. Arresting my informants. Sending dogs to do a horse’s work. The one thing I’ve had in recent times that held even the slightest resemblance to a proper battle was my duel with dearest Tohro.”

Shokenda nods to the pegasus, who returns her glare with one of his own. “You bled. I made you bleed.”

Shokenda smiles. Tohro may as well have sung a humorous song. “And that is the extent of what you can do to me.” She sweeps her foreleg, gesturing to the jarls, who have all backed away from the table. “You all know of this. And yet you persist. Still, you should know by now that the Dragonborn is the only one who can truly kill me.”

Caro is staring furiously at the projection of his enemy.

“He looks different,” Shokenda comments. “That little spark, that twitch in his eye, the little tremble of his hoof at the thought of taking me apart… It was there when I bade him farewell at the gates of Neigh Hrothgar, but now... How curious…”

“Lots of things have changed,” says Caro. “But my intentions towards you remain the same.”

“Why are you talking?” Shokenda turns around with a swish of her mane.

Caro growls, stepping forward, but stops and takes a breath, letting the anger flow through him and seep out of his body.

“Platinum, you should keep your mutt on a leash, lest he step out of line. If I had done so, this war would have progressed far differently. In fact, had he become my thrall, and all went according to plan, the feathers in your robe would be stained with red by now, as would be the wall and the floor. And your so-called princess would be fearing for her life, but as things are…”

Shokenda’s eyes fall upon Celina, prompting Shae to leap out of her seat and shield Celina's wings from view, but the action only seems to amuse Shokenda, as she's wearing a disturbing smile. She looks at Shae with pity.

"Don't concern yourself, young mage. I know of Celina's lineage. I knew she was an alicorn long before she did, long before she even existed. As for you, one who calls yourself Princess..."

Celina taps Shae on the shoulder. "Let me speak to her."

"No," Shae commands. "She'll do anything to break you. I won't lose you again."

"Mother, it'll be okay. I know who I am. She can't change that."

Shokenda tilts her head. "Hm, you refer to her as your mother. So the princess is a liar. Does the other one do the same?"

"Y-yes," Celina answers, stepping around Shae. “Luna and I… Shae Sparkle is our mother.”

"A pair of lying royals, then." Shokenda clicks her tongue. "Shameful."

"She may not have given birth to me, but she's loving and caring, and she saved me from the abyss. I wouldn’t call her my mother if I thought of her as anything less.”

"Did I ask for your reasons? I won't bother trying to change your mind. Just know you that are denying yourself something greater than... this," Shokenda gestures to Shae with contempt, "so long as you call it your mother, and yourself a princess of these equines. Now sit down."

Celina remains standing.

“Hm. These equines are just an orgy of insolence.”

"Then die."

All eyes turn to Ironclad. He, much like Moonshine, has not changed his disposition, even in the presence of somepony as intimidating as Shokenda. However, unlike Moonshine, he is not smiling.

“It’s clear enough to me that you hate equines. You are an equine.” He speaks no different than if he were in a casual conversation. “It’s only logical that you die.”

"Hm. What a bold declaration from one so young," Shokenda says with a smirk as she prowls towards the unmoving jarl. "How was it that your father dearest died, again? Fighting my subjects? I am quite sure he'll be so proud his little whelp has the same streak of impudence that got him killed."

“Are you a complete imbecile?” Ironclad retorts. “My father died to save his village, my village, from dragons. You dishonor him by claiming his death.”

“Just the same…” Shokenda begins, only to be interrupted.

“And if I’m a whelp for insisting that you follow through on your prejudice, then I'd rather be lauded a whelp than jeered as a coward who won't come before his own enemy. Remind me, who is the projection here?”

Shokenda’s eyes narrow to the point where their unnatural golden glow is reduced to a pair of slits. “You see, Platinum? This is what your rule has lead to. A young, immature stallion on his bloated throne, astute only in the language of insolence. Shall I applaud you?”

“Enough of your childish insults.” Queen Platinum leans over the table and faces Shokenda directly, scorn in her eyes and frown. “I won’t appease your ego by justifying the mistakes that lead to your decision to lead this rebellion. Just tell me why you’re here and get the hell out of my city.”

“Don’t act so offended.” Shokenda circles the edge of the table, making laps with her slow, broad steps. “Let it be known that my actions are nothing beyond what has been done in eras past. For a new way to come to be, the old way must wither and die, whether it be through the passing of time, or at the end of a bloodied blade.” She pauses, glancing at the queen. “I will not wait for the former.”

“So, you wish to take your rebellion to its next stage?”

“Ah, finally you understand. A natural progression of this stalemate we’ve been stuck in for too long would lead us nowhere, wouldn’t you agree? Do you not wish to see this threat to your stability stamped out?”

“If it would mean protecting my subjects from you? Yes.”

Shokenda has leaned in uncomfortably close to the unfettered Queen Platinum. “Then I suggest we meet on the fields of the land you claim to care for so much, our armies prepared, our grounds equal, our steel fully sharpened. No dirt or dishonesty to shame a battle that shall be sung throughout history. An appealing idea, isn’t it?”

“Appealing, and very unorthodox from somepony such as yourself. I presume you would gather your army and march on the Empire even if I were to refuse?”

Shokenda flashes an uncanny grin that causes the queen to lean back a little. “Very wise. So, Platinum, where shall this battle commence? I have set it in motion. As such, I leave its location to you.”

Queen Platinum points to a certain fissure on the map of Equestria before her. “It shall be at Ghastly Gorge.”

Shokenda has a look at the map. After a moment of surveyance, she sighs with disappointment. “Hm. Your kind is truly an unimaginative one. A second battle at this gorge? Surely you have something grander in mind.”

“So the beggar grows picky,” Platinum remarks. “You demanded a battle, and you will have it wherever I damn well please.”

Shokenda sighs once again. “My Blackwings will meet your drones at Ghastly Gorge for a second time. I expect to see you there in three weeks. That should be enough time for you to gather your forces and ensure they are fully equipped for the endeavor ahead. My subjects will not be merciful, and neither will I.”

Caro steps forth and says, “Likewise.”

“This does not concern you,” Shokenda snaps at him.

“So long as you’re involved, it does. The only way you will make history is if you kill me. And here I am, presenting myself on a silver platter.” Caro gestures to himself, flaunting his muscular frame. “By all means, almighty one, take your prize!”

“Allow me to put this delicately: I do not want to kill you yet,” Shokenda states contemptuously. “Understand? Now sit down.”

Caro, like the princess, doesn’t do as Shokenda demands, standing proud and defiant. He advances on her, as if she’s no smaller than a child. Caro is positively beaming at her disgruntled expression. “Why delay the inevitable?”

Shokenda sighs once again and turns to Queen Platinum. Caro, left without a response, lets his smile disappear.

“Two weeks,” says Shokenda. “Ghastly Gorge. Do not keep me waiting.”

Queen Platinum nods slowly, her eyes lowered in grim consideration. “Very well. Usual terms.”

“No bombs, no sabotage, and, oh…”

Shokenda surveys the room, her unnatural leer falling on several indiscriminate ponies. In an instant, two sages, three audience members, and Jarl Moonshine all collapse, hitting the ground simultaneously.

“...No spies.” Shokenda shows off an innocent smile and begins to fade away.

“Deceitful whore!” Caro shouts, galloping to the table and swiping his hoof where the albino alicorn once stood.

“Goodness, this…” Queen Platinum swallows, her composure visibly disrupted. “That’s certainly not ideal, is it?”

After taking a moment to shudder and let his anger ebb away, Caro goes over to Jarl Moonshine’s unconscious body and touches his neck. “Good, he’s still breathing…”

Moonshine groans and raises his head. To the surprise of nopony, he’s still smiling. “Wow, I’ll have to tell those zebras to thin out the next brew…”

“Hey!” Caro shakes the inebriated jarl in an attempt to snap him out of his stupor. “What did Shokenda do to you?”

Moonshine rubs the wrinkles of his forehead. “Haven’t the foggiest. Honestly. This is the first time I’ve even laid eyes on that brutish lass in years.”

“Sleepers,” Tohro says as he walks up to the visibly shaken queen. “Shokenda made a passing mention of them back when I first joined the Blackwings, but I never knew she actually went through with it…” He grits his teeth and runs his hoof through his mane. “Damn it! I should have said something...”

Platinum is breathing abnormally fast, her hooves clenched together on the table. “Don’t… don’t worry yourself, love, you didn’t know. We’ll… just have to formulate a counter-strategy, that’s all. That’s all…”

“This is nothing new. Queen Crystalia of Gran Magus did the same thing during the settlement wars,” Captain Gauntlet says. He points at the four soldiers standing at the door. “Get a small unicorn squadron together and sweep Everfree. If they detect anypony with an anomaly, politely have them escorted to an isolated location. We must flush out any further sleepers.”

“Yes, Captain!” All of the soldiers depart from the war room.

Gauntlet turns around and waves to the exit. “Meanwhile, all those who collapsed should come with me. There will be no disciplinary action. You’ll simply be checked, cleaned out, and sent on your way.”

The drowsy ponies are taken from their seats and escorted to the exit by the other present soldiers. Gauntlet leads them out of the room in a hurry, and shuts the doors behind him.

“It’s just a constantly flowing river of disappointments and setbacks…” Queen Platinum grouses while her hooves massage her temples. Her gaze is distant, removed from the room. “Two weeks. I am supposed to amass a fully prepared army to counter Shokenda’s forces in two weeks. It would be pure simplicity for…” She knocks herself across the forehead. “No. No. I can do this, I…”

A puce hoof touches Queen Platinum’s shoulder. Jarl Ironclad has finally broken through his unwavering stoicism, putting on a brave smile. “We can do this.”

“Right you are,” Jarl Golden Sieve chimes. “Do what you will with your soldiers. I’ll put in a word with my contacts across Equestria. It’s time I put my good fortune towards a good cause.”

“Keep calm and carry on, yes?” Jarl Drake suggests, stretching her forelegs out. “My town guards have been obsolete since your dear soldiers entered the fray. You can have them back. Trottingham is in no immediate danger.”

Boysenberry elevates himself onto the table, his pupils rapidly scanning over the map beneath him. “With your mutual permission, Jarl Drake, Your Majesty, I would like to stay here and route out a plan of attack with your other coordinators.”

“You’d be a fool not to allow him the chance,” Jarl Drake says to Queen Platinum. “Even if you don’t, odds are he would have found a means to make it happen.”

Jarl Moonshine laughs aloud, though it sounds more slurred than usual. “Intelligence and rambunctiousness! This one truly is a treat. Now, I’ll be off to the infirmary, I think I hit my head a little hard there…”

“I’ll help you,” says Jarl Golden Sieve. He takes Moonshine’s hoof and leads him away.

“I’ll be going back to Trottingham, then,” Jarl Drake announces, making a dramatic show of getting out of her seat. “Boysenberry, come along. I need you for a moment.”

Boysenberry takes a few seconds to respond, being diverted by the uncharted northern section of the map. “Hmm… Oh! Sorry.” He leaps off the table and levitates onto Jarl Drake’s back. “I look forward to working with you, Your Majesty!” he says to Queen Platinum with a salute.

With respectful bows and waves, the remaining jarls depart from the table and go on their way.

“I suppose tragedy can’t squander every bit of hope, and it’d be a damn fool to try,” says the queen. “Now, there’s just the matter of my soldiers… I suppose commissioning a few new blacksmiths is in order…”

Rosemary breaks into a gallop, her hooves scuffing the floor. She bumps into a chair and trips, landing on her stomach in front of Queen Platinum. She salutes without standing up. “I volunteer, Your Majesty. I’ve been supplyin’ Dragonrein with weapons and armor since before I even knew their names.”

“It’s true,” says Caro.

“Her crafting is exemplary!” Shae pipes up. “Do hire her!”

Queen Platinum stands. There is still a remnant of her earlier panic on her face, but she is gleaming all the same. “I’ll gladly accept any help on offer, especially from Dragonrein. I daresay we would be in a very different situation if you hadn’t gotten involved in this war, and I’m not about to turn you away.”

“Aw, ya flatter me, all a’ya.” Rosemary stands and dusts herself off. “I won’t letcha down, Your Majesty. My forge is the Empire’s forge so long as ya need it.”

“Provided your work is decent, you’ll have yourself an Imperial forge. Can you begin immediately?”

“Rules of nature allowed it, I would start yesterday.”

“Excellent.” Queen Platinum levitates a quill from the table and dips it in ink. She begins writing on a blank scrap of parchment. “Take this to Captain Gauntlet, he’ll provide you a quota, and you can get the necessary supplies. Also, Ironclad?”

“Hm?” Ironclad is still in his seat, arranging the table’s ink bottles in a row. “Oh, yes. Onslaught wants to stay behind to assist in the war effort. If you need an assistant—”

“Yes!” both Shae and Rosemary cheer at once, causing Celina to jump out of her seat.

“Such enthusiasm…” Queen Platinum says, visibly startled. She removes herself from her seat. “Caro, would you please follow me? There is something I’ve been meaning to show you for a while.”

~Caro~

I walk alongside Platinum into the hall. She seems reserved about telling me exactly what it is she wants me to see, so I’ll just assume it’s a surprise. While she remains quiet, I have a look at her.

I think I know how she feels. The weight of the world on her shoulders, simultaneous torrents of dread and excitement rushing through her, her chest pounding as her heart threatens to burst for several different reasons at once. I felt the exact same when I awakened as the Dragonborn, and again several times after. I knew who I was. But what was going to happen next? It was terrifying and exciting beyond all reasoning.

The difference between me and her is that, until now, I’ve never had an entire country on the line, so while her heart races, I’m entirely content. At least, for the most part…

I look at Platinum and say, “I’m scared too.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was special,” she says with a chortle. “And how do you hold on to the hope that we’ll all be alive by the end of the incoming glorious battle Shokenda Blackwing has long sought?”

“For one, there is the reassurance that she doesn’t want to kill me… But that only makes me fear for my friends.”

“Even somepony as capable as Tohro?”

We take the main staircase down into the main hall. The many windows bathe me a romantic orange evening glow. “Ah…” I cover my eyes as I follow the queen into another corridor. “Especially somepony as capable as Tohro. Shokenda herself made it clear that she has plans for him, and he doesn’t stand a chance against her. He barely lived even with Muramasa. Shokenda wants to make him suffer for betraying her, but I won’t let that happen to him. I can’t lose him.”

Platinum pauses in front of a set of double doors and presses her hoof to my chest. “Then you won’t. You have a way of making your desires a reality, and if you truly want Tohro to be safe, you’ll make it happen.”

Even so, ever since the revelation of Saviikaan’s imposed cycle of violence, I’ve come to accept a lack of control over some things. I can’t control the progression of some events in this war, and I’d drive myself mad trying to do so.

“You’re a different sort of pony, especially compared to how you were when I first met you,” Platinum continues. “I mean that as a compliment. Sometimes, a soldier has to choose one life over another, but you would be the one to save both, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.” I can at least agree with that much.

“You’re much like my husband in that regard. During one of the final battles of the war in the old kingdoms, he managed to save both me and Pansy from certain death. He looked at probability and respectfully spat at it, and I loved him for that.”

Platinum opens the doors, leading into a colorful bedchamber. The varying colors of the furniture’s cushions, mixed the gold trim of the curtains, makes this place resemble a rainbow one could sleep in. I can infer as to who this bedchamber belonged to.

“This is Hurricane’s room?” I ask.

“Yes…” Platinum lets out a nostalgic sigh as she walks about the room, her hoof brushing the furniture. She spends an especially long time near the bed, though thankfully she doesn’t try to inhale some sort of errant scent from the sheets. I would have left if she did.

I survey the room, feeling an odd warmth settle into my fur at the sight of the late king’s colorful decor. It’s as if his commanding presence and aura of majesty remains, even after so much has passed. What especially catches my attention is a large blue case up on the windowsill. I motion towards it and asks, “What’s in there?”

Platinum doesn’t respond. She goes over to the dresser and picks up a rainbow urn, embracing it like it were a loved one. She then removes the lid and takes a small clump of ashes in her magical grip. The ashes fall back into the urn to reveal a small key.

“He appeared to me in a dream a few days ago… He told me many things.” With a wistful blush, Platinum brings the key over to me. “He thinks you should inherit one of his most prized possessions.”

With a glance back at the case, I realize what’s in there, causing my heart to sink. “Excalibur… No,” I say, strong and firmly. “No. He didn’t listen to me. I told Hurricane, I’m not ready yet! I don’t want this!”

“Why not? Why aren’t you ready?” Platinum asks, still holding the key right in front of my face.

“You should know!” I yell, shoving the key aside. “He was your husband. It doesn’t matter if I emulate him, because I... I’m not him. I could end this war and stop the dragons tomorrow, but I wouldn’t be half of what he was.”

Platinum, unwavered by my sudden panic, simply picks up the key again. “Do you fear letting him down? Do you worry that you would dishonor him by wielding Excalibur?”

“Yes!”

“Well, you won’t. King Hurricane, conqueror of Olympus, the founder of Equestria, my husband, has bequeathed a weapon of Hephaestus to you, Dragonborn, and if you do not take it… I don’t want to say you are dishonoring his memory, but he’d certainly think you a damn fool, as would I.”

My head droops. I refuse to look at Platinum in the eyes, fearing her disappointed glare. Odds are I would see King Hurricane within her, urging me to take his sword, but the very thought of holding the weapon of somepony so charismatic, so heroic, whereas my accomplishments amount to spilt blood and nothing more… It hurts.

Then again, it doesn’t have to hurt. What if the day I take Excalibur into battle is the day I become the hero I’ve always wanted to be? Who says I can’t make myself worthy through the use of the weapon? Perhaps that is what Hurricane intends for me.

“He told me you would be unwilling, and to tell you that he understands why. Just because you have the makings of Hurricane doesn’t mean you have to strive to be like him. All you need to do is be you. The world needs nothing more, and nothing less.”

Platinum’s aura strokes my cheek. It’s uncomfortable for a second, but I come to appreciate it, and lean into the gesture. I reach out and take the key.

Inserting it into the lock of the case is more difficult than it should be, my hooves are shaking so damn much. I can assume Platinum is having a smile at my silliness, and I can’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all as well. I finally manage to get the key inside and turn it. My heart skips a beat when I hear the click. I open the case…

There’s no sword here.

There is only a small scrap of parchment with a poorly written message.

I need this. -M

Platinum’s expression goes entirely blank at the sight of this, not unlike Shokenda’s perpetually dry demeanor. All she can say is, “Ah.”