~Caro~

She’s smiling.

She holds Tohro and Gauntlet in her magical grip, just above the ground. They struggle, kicking their legs like mad in a hopeless attempt to break free. Their weapons clatter to the ground in a heap of metal and wood.

Gauntlet, for as much as he struggles, keeps his stoicism very well. It seems I’m not the only one who doesn’t fear Shokenda. At the very least, he doesn’t bring himself to look like he fears her. He won’t give her the satisfaction.

Tohro, however… Caught off guard, left defenseless, held captive by the mare he once dedicated his life to, while she whispers threats into his ear… He is well past the point of screaming, not that he can. He just looks at me, tears forming in his eyes.

Shokenda is torturing him just from her mere presence, and she’s fucking smiling.

Before I can even take my first step, Shokenda holds out her hoof and shows me a piercing gaze. “Before you draw your blade, you will tell me something.”

I continue to stare at her. Knowing her, she’ll continue to speak regardless of my approval.

“Something has changed. Your fury, your drive, your desire for blood. Where has it gone? Surely you still have something that drives you forward in your mad scramble for the semblance of a peaceful land.”

She watches me closely, holding her gaze. I try to do the same to her. Show no fear. Show nothing that she can use against me. I refuse to let her forge a weakness in me.

But that weakness is right there, floating next to her, crying as he silently screams my name. I told him not to stand beside me for this battle, and he disobeyed. I could have told him to leave when he came for me. I could have done more. Attacked him, insulted him, forced him away with a shout… I couldn’t. My heart wouldn’t let me.

Shokenda sees my weakness. She looks between me and Tohro, her sick smile intensifying. It crawls along her face like an inscription, not like any sane smile I’ve ever seen. “I thought you above such earthly desires,” she says to me. “But don’t think any less of yourself for it. Even my kind understands something what it is to be in love.”

I find it within myself to let my strong exterior fall. I’m not afraid to admit it, though I won’t say it to Shokenda. Instead, I just share a much more intimate gaze with Tohro. He stops crying, if only for a moment, as he returns my sentiments with a nod.

“It’s not a weakness, Caro,” says Shokenda. “But you are still weak.”

My body seizes up. I drop my sword as my forelegs snap together. Golden tendrils rise from the ground and slather around my body, pulling me down. It doesn’t matter how much I pull. I can’t break free. Shokenda has me trapped. I ignore the pain and try to look forward. I want to see Tohro. If this is how it ends, I need to see him.

“He’s not weak!” I hear him say. He must have broken free from Shokenda’s grasp, at least for a moment. “How can you call him weak?! The fact that he’s standing there, challenging you—”

I find some way of resisting the tendrils just enough to see Tohro, but the image is spoiled by Shokenda, who has her muzzle uncomfortably close to his. “What challenge? You and him both, all you are capable of is yelling and screaming. You are both just undisciplined children.” She lifts him up and brings him into the ground, face first. “Children. Subservient to a higher power, as much as you wish to deny it.” She forcibly rolls him over and splays out his forelegs. He can only move his head. “You are only alive because I allow it. Accept that.”

I want to growl at her. Say a single word of hatred and spitting rage her, throwing away her demands without a second thought, like I always have. How can I do that with Tohro taking in her wrath, while I’m unable to do anything...

Shokenda places her hoof on Tohro’s neck. I feel a white hot fire rising in my chest as she strokes him like a mistress would her pet… Damn her… “You would not let me have you. You would not obey my wishes. You strayed from the path. You sowed the seeds of pain when you abandoned me, and now…”

I await the inevitable. Shokenda summons a shaft of light and molds it into a serrated dagger. Tohro’s imperial armor is ripped open, and his mail is torn to shreds. Shokenda twirls the dagger over his exposed flesh.

“I think you know the rest, my dear.”

She starts to carve. She begins with the very tip of the dagger, just barely scraping the surface of Tohro’s chest. His eyes bulge, and his lips curl. He’s holding something in, and he’s determined to not let it out. I don’t know if it’s for his sake, or mine.

Shokenda cuts deeper, retracing her steps and dragging the blunt end of the blade through the fresh wounds. Every time she retracts her dagger, it shines with a new coat of glimmering, dripping, warm blood that stains Tohro’s beautiful white fur.

Shokenda looks disappointed… At least, I think she does. Her expression is so ambiguous, and my vision is fast failing me, whether it’s due to grief, or utter rage. But I can’t do anything. All I can do is watch.

Unless…

“Rasahrel… I need you…” I gasp.

She takes too long to respond. By the time I feel her presence, Shokenda has already cut deep again, this time along Tohro’s hind legs. “I am sorry, Caro. What Malyol and I gave is all we could muster. We may have been beasts at one time, but in here, our power is little.”

“Then… Then… I need someone else…” The tendrils tighten their grip as I try to crawl. One of them tries to wrap around my mouth, but I’m able to bite at it and drive it away. “Hevnodiin, are you there?”

“Why should I assist you?” he asks disdainfully. “You humiliated me. You took my eyes. You skewered me atop a church. I was not permitted a good death.”

“I’ve changed…”

I hear Hevnodiin growl at me. “But you were not then as you are now, and no matter what you become, how you killed me will not have changed. I will not serve you.”

“Leave him be,” I hear a shrill voice snap at Hevnodiin. “You have nothing to gain from acting so shamefully towards our host.”

“Nahkriin?”

“Yes, it is me. I have bided my time, and I have made my decision. You wish to see this battle won,” she says. “You wish to see your master again. Most of all, you wish to save him.”

Shokenda has become more intense. She tosses the dagger aside and lights her horn. A steady stream of fire emits from it, coating Tohro’s wounds. She’s cauterizing him. In any other circumstance, this would be welcome, but it just brings him more silent pain.

“You know this already,” I snarl at Nahkriin.

“What you want is what anyone would want, dovah, key, or otherwise. You are not the same being that struck me down in Reinoc, and again over Trottingham. That, among other things, helped me believe that perhaps you would be worthy…”

I’m grateful, but no less impatient. “Fen hi ofan zey hin mul?! You talk too damn much!” I shout.

Nahkriin pauses, and chortles like an noblemare. “Hm. It seems I have my own sins to correct. But, I digress… Caro, I willingly give my power to you.”

It’s like a forest fire, consuming everything in its path in a slow, towering, oncoming inferno that no mortal or immortal can stop. My strength returns to me. It starts at my hooves, allowing me to pull at the tendrils once again. I lift my forelegs up, severing the tendrils from my body. They fall into wisps as they fly from where they sprouted. The ones holding the rest of me, however, they’re not willing to let me leave so easily. It’s only a matter of time… I just need a little more…

“We can fight this, Caro. Otar said that you have nothing to fear. Make his words truth.”

I look to Tohro once again, just to assure myself that it isn’t too late, and to know for certain that he’s still holding on, but Nahkriin may have been too late. His chest is red and black with burns and sealed wounds. His breath is barely anything than hyperventilation.

Shokenda holds her hoof up high. She speaks quietly, as if remorseful, though not without a sense of relishment. “Dragos, Divine of War and Mother of Dragons, be merciful to this one. For I will not.” She surrounds her hoof with her signature golden aura. She brings it down, into Tohro’s chest.

Tohro’s eyes twitch, his lip quivers, and he breaks.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!!!”

Shokenda has a glimmer in her smile. “Finally…”

That’s it. Like the barrier between me and my potential, the tendrils snap. They cannot hold me. What was once an immovable, threatening force, has now become nothing to me. More wisps rise from my hooves, bathing me in a warm, powerful glow. It reminds me of childhood, when I rose in the morning, ready to strike at the anvil… or how I feel every time I look at Tohro.

The aura visibly shimmers in my coat. Shae was right. The Fae does live in everything, and for the first time, I feel it within me. My target lies ahead. She was once a mountain. Now she is just a mound. And she dares to put a hoof on somepony that belongs to me.

I charge at Shokenda. Even the slight effort of moving my legs is gone. Before Shokenda can even see me, I’m right in front of her, able to see every strand of hair on her body.

She turns to me. Her shock is absolutely glorious.

I swing my sword at her neck. Of course, there’s a ward. I know Shokenda is fast enough to block me. But with another swing, the soul gems upon my blade discharge, disabling her ward. I take advantage of the small window of opportunity. I channel Nahkriin’s strength into my hoof and strike Shokenda’s jaw. She flinches. I strike her again, this time with my sword. I take a quick look at Rosemary’s wonderful creation and smile at the golden blood I’ve just drawn.

I look at Tohro, who is stained and broken, but nonetheless smiling up at me. Something about this smile is a little different, but I don’t have time to figure out why.

“You do not touch him,” I say to Shokenda.

She touches her jaw, still wearing the same look of grim surprise. “What…?”

A dormant cauldron of anger spills from my mouth. “YOU!” I charge straight at her, bringing my blade down on another shield of hers. “DO NOT!” I put enough strength on the shield to pierce it. “TOUCH!” I punch her upside the head. While she’s stunned, I hack away at her neck and strike her armor, leaving a noticeable crack. “HIM!!”

I swipe at her hooves. She trips, then disappears before she hits the ground. I know she’s behind me, and I’m able to turn and plant my sword into the ground, blocking her buck. I rise to counter her attack, but she disappears again.

I run and slide away from three explosive shots. I don’t stop, even as their impact rings in my ears. I turn and look at Shokenda. Her mane is losing its flow, strands falling to her muzzle. She snarls at me like a beast, then leaps.

She’s getting aggressive. Too aggressive. “Iidahiik tozein!” I shout. I’ve taken a page from her book, and she will fall for it, now that I’ve broken her hold over me. She gets close to me. Too close. An eruption fires from the ground beneath her, coating her in flames. She sends them away with a turn of her head, but not without leaving a nasty burn on her face and hooves. Half of her armor has lost its shine. It’s turned dark, and is smoking at the edges.

She touches the scorched part of her armor, as if she’s never seen a burn before. She looks as though she just watched somepony die. She retaliates with with a wave of her hooves, which creates a circular rune in front of her. From its six corners comes intense, burning rays of light.

And she expects me to cower? Instead of running away, I’ll just go right through them. “Wuld nah kest!” I shout. The offensive lights just graze my armor as I leap past them. I hold my sword up high and slash at Shokenda’s rune, shattering it into pieces. “Diin strin gron!” Shokenda doesn’t get a chance to step back. My breath coats the ground beneath her in solid ice, which crawls up her legs and holds her still. She manages to break one of her forelegs away, but she’s still too slow. “Zahkrii! Bel! Kinz!” Five golden swords appear at my side. They fly at Shokenda, one at a time. The first two shred through her armor. The third takes off one of her pauldrons. The last two embed themselves in her chest. Golden blood comes out of her in spurts, littering her hair, the ground, and the remaining parts of her armor.

Her chest is exposed, and she has nowhere to run. I gallop at her. I can’t hear anything. My ears are pounding with blood, adrenaline, loathing, and all things I associate with a long unfelt desire for flesh writhing at the mercy of metal. Not just a passing casualty; a long, suffering death that I shall cherish for every second it lasts.

My blade passes through Shokenda’s chest. She doesn’t scream. She just seems surprised, more than anything else. I want to make her hurt, just as she hurt Tohro. I twist the blade. Still nothing. I drive it into her further. Why won’t she scream? Why doesn’t she bow to me? Why is she still standing? “WHY WON’T YOU DIE?!”

Her passive state breaks. I see legitimate, recognizable anger in her eyes as she levitates my sword out of her body and throws it away. I reach out for it, only for Shokenda to take my foreleg in her aura and bring it down, pulling me onto my stomach.

“I was wrong, Dovahkiin.” She places her hoof on my head, grinding me into the dirt. I feel salt on my lips. “You were ready,” she says. “You now channel the power of the dragons, and in doing so, you’ve become powerful enough to surpass my expectations.”

“Could have saved yourself the trouble,” I growl. “Should have just killed me at Gallopagos Keep… You have nothing to gain from letting me grow stronger…”

“Your strength is just as important to me as it is to you. Our battle is just beginning. And even after its conclusion, you will still serve a great purpose. Of course, you won’t know what that purpose is until you’ve already fulfilled it.” Shokenda removes her hoof from my head and turns away. “I would advise against trying to avoid it, by the way. I’m not entirely sure how it will transpire, but be assured that it will happen.”

“And do you have to be alive for me to play a part in this purpose?” I ask, getting back on my hooves.

Shokenda smiles again. She knows I hate her when she smiles. “You say that as though I intend on dying today.”

I take my sword in my hoof, pick it off the ground and sling it over my shoulder. “Then we’re at an impasse.”

Shokenda turns around with a swish of her ursa fur cloak. “Take up your sword, Dovahkiin. Show me your newfound strength.”

~Vision End~

Mistral has her hooves firmly pressed to an Imperial soldier’s wound. A Blackwing had just ran him through with a scimitar and left him bleeding profusely on the ground. The wound is too deep to keep the blood withheld, no matter how hard Mistral presses. The soldier gasps out words that she is unable to hear, due the rampant shouting of the soldiers surrounding them, echoing off the stone walls of the pass.

With a final cough, the soldier goes quiet. Mistral backs away from his corpse and bows her head. “Damn.” She closes her visor and pulls her hood back up. “Sorry, mate.”

She looks over her constructed wall of wooden spikes. The entire width of the pass is lined with them, requiring any non-pegasi to make running jumps, leaving them exposed to ranged attacks. It would be a foolproof system, if it weren’t for how ignorant to pain the Blackwings seem to be. It doesn’t matter if their skin gets torn on the spikes, a sword swipes them on their mad charge, or their bodies end up as pincushions, they hardly falter in their efforts to break through the lines of defense and head out to the gorge.

Mistral sees three Blackwing earthwalkers making a mad dash for the wall, swords in their mouth and ferocity in their eyes. She grabs a crossbow off of the dead soldier and aims it at the Blackwings. She fires off two bolts, landing a hit on two different heads. The last Blackwing comes too quickly for her to line up a shot. She dives along the wall of wood, intercepting him as he leaps over, and slashes a wing blade across his stomach. He hits the ground running, only to slow to a crawl and roll onto his side. Mistral leaps onto him and slashes his neck with the blade. It shatters, leaving half of it embedded in the Blackwing, the other half in her hoof.

“Mistral!”

She looks up to see a familiar gryphon coming down from the cliffside. She can recognize his finesse in parkour anywhere. “Altair?” she asks, tossing her broken wing blade away. “You shouldn’t have come, this is a war zone.”

Altair looks around, examining the dead bodies, pools of blood, and abandoned weapons littering the pass. “Is it?”

“This had better be important,” she says. “The Blackwings are getting restless, and I have an inkling as to why.”

“The pawns cheer, for the queen has come out to play,” Altair muses, flourishing his claws. “You remember the plan, yes? My agents are looting the battlefield after the fact, before anypony comes to reclaim the bodies. The Thieves Guild will make quite the profit today, Mistral,” the gryphon says with a grin. “Baltimare will welcome us back like heroes.”

“I’m aware of this. Why are you truly here?” Mistral asks.

Altair chuckles, patting her on the shoulder. “You know me too well, friend. I wish to confirm that you reclaimed our property.”

Mistral nods, having expected this exact question. “I’ve liberated the weapon from its place of holding, but I had to store it elsewhere. The preparations for this battle have made it difficult to stay away from prying eyes. But I can take you to it now, if it would please you.”

“No need. Just do whatever is necessary to stay alive. After the battle, meet me in the mead cellar where you hid the weapon, and we’ll smuggle it back to Underreach—” Altair pauses as Mistral does a double take. “Don’t look so shocked, friend. You hid it well. Being a master thief has its perks, that’s all.”

“You flatter me, elder one,” Mistral says with a sarcastic bow. Her eyes wander as she considers a stray thought. “Though…”

“What is it?” Altair's disposition quickly changes from pompous to concerned, turning Mistral’s head his way.

“I don’t think it was appropriate to take Excalibur at this time… Queen Platinum was willing to bequeath it to the Dragonborn, and it could have aided him in this battle. Hundreds of lives could have been spared with Excalibur’s power. If we had just waited a little longer—”

“Hephaestus’ power does not belong in the hooves of anypony, especially not in this war,” says Altair. “If Caro did carry the sword into battle, it would just be an opportunity for a Blackwing, or worse, Shokenda, to take it from him and take the advantage. And that is just one of many poor outcomes. Trust me, Mistral. This is the right path. We should just be thankful the Empire hasn’t let anypony wield Muramasa yet. We’ll be taking that one back soon enough.”

Mistral takes Altair’s reasoning to heart and nods again. “Yes, Master.”

Altair looks over her shoulder, his expression growing more bewildered by the second. “Huh… What the hell is…” He gasps and throws his arms around Mistral, pulling her to the ground and rolling away. “Stay down!”

“Sir, this is neither the time nor the place…” Mistral manages to look past Altair and see what he was so terrified of.

Shokenda Blackwing is just a few steps away, her hooves kicking up dirt as she coasts to a stop. Mistral’s bravery falters, and she quickly buries her muzzle into Altair’s chest. He tightens his grip on her, ensuring that his entire body shields her from any harm. After a few agonizingly long seconds, the initial panic wavers, and Mistral dares to look, wondering why Shokenda hasn’t struck her or Altair down on the spot.

Shokenda is occupied with somepony else. She rapidly trades horn attacks with Caro, who tirelessly strikes at her with his sword. She deflects with her hooves, and steps away to launch a cutting wave from her horn. Caro sidesteps it and raises his sword to block Shokenda’s charge. As she passes him, Shokenda knocks Caro off-balance with a sweep of her foreleg, warps to his side and bucks him away. He hits the wall hard enough to become embedded into it, unable to set himself free no matter how hard he pulls.

Caro stops his struggling and closes his eyes, his breaths lowering and his muscles relaxing. When his eyes open again, they glow gold, along with the rest of his body. He roars, discharging his aura and leaving a crater in the wall. He floats down to the ground, picks up his sword, and lashes out at Shokenda, firing off waves of magic that bring her to her knees. “Wuld!” Caro shouts, dashing to Shokenda’s side and making a vertical slash. His sword cleaves through her armor, tearing off layers. With another swing, he cuts along her barrel, leaving a gaping wound across her. Her cloak falls to the ground in tatters.

“What?!” she yells.

Mistral has never seen Shokenda with any expression other than fear-inducing apathy or unnatural happiness. To see her confused is downright cathartic.

Shokenda surrounds herself in a shield so thick, she is barely visible beneath it. She rises into the air, beyond Caro’s immediate reach. He fruitlessly slashes at her as she floats away.

Caro faces the ground. He’s growling like an enraged animal, and his anger is visibly intensifying.

Altair gets off of Mistral and helps her to her hooves. She carefully approaches Caro, holding her hoof out. She can feel the air vibrate around him as she gets closer. “Dragonborn, please consider yourself. You’re hurt. You’re irrational. Perhaps it would be for the best if you let her retreat—”

“No!” Caro screams, his voice echoing across the pass. Mistral falls back, feeling as though she were just struck across the face. “She demanded this! She crossed the line! I will never forgive her! I will chase her into oblivion!”

His eyes and hooves glow. He gallops to the wall, places his forelegs on it, and begins to run along it. He sprints up the wall as if it were any other surface, hell-bent on chasing down the fleeing alicorn.

~Caro~

“KEEP RUNNING, YOU BASTARD!!”

The wall is easy. Nothing more than a cobbled path, at the mercy of my hooves. Gravity is just an insect. I ascend to the top of the pass, leaping to flat ground.

This area has gone untouched by the battle. It’s almost empty, being little more than patches of grass and dirt, along with a bleeding false god that has yet to taste my full wrath. After all she’s done, she has the gall to try and run? I won’t allow it.

“NOTHING WILL PROTECT YOU FROM ME! NOT SOLDIERS! NOT MAGIC! NOT ARMOR!”

The only thing in my vision that’s unblurred is her. I can see every single movement she makes. She’s become predictable. Fast, yes. Powerful, very. Damn near implacable. Yet, predictable all the same. She’s never had to face an opponent who can take more than a few strikes before falling or dying.

Shokenda attacks with a stomp of her hooves, which causes waves of energy to travel my way. I leap over them effortlessly, barely slowing in my assault.

“NOTHING CAN PROTECT YOU FROM ME!!”

The me that speaks is everything that remains of my former self. The hatred-filled, revenge-driven side that came to life when I watched Master die. Once this battle ends, I won’t have to rely on that part of me anymore. I only welcome him back for this.

I launch myself at Shokenda, preparing my sword. All three soul gems are fully alight. I bite the hilt, aim the blade at the ground, and prepare for the impact.

Everything is dust and rock and the sound of the earth shattering beneath me, bending to my will. The ground ruptures, splitting open from my sword. A hellish blend of magic and pure force form a crater where I land, several times larger than myself.

The battle was a song, and this is the lull. The part where everything goes quiet, and my strength temporarily leaves me. I wrap my forelegs around the hilt of my sword, clutch it tight, face the ground, and retch.

“That was the other reason why we withheld our power from you,” Rasahrel says. “This may be our essence, but it still requires your body, and the body is… fallible.”

I can accept that. My body will grow used to this power, but for now, this was enough. I look up, expecting to see Shokenda there, but of course, she’s gone.

“Beautiful, Caro. Absolutely beautiful.”

I turn around. Shokenda stands outside of the crater, her hoof tapping the ground.

“It only took the strength of several dragons and the sight of a loved one’s blood for you to finally realize your potential. The beauty of it all is that this, all of this…” She gestures to the whole of the crater. “This is only the beginning of what you can do.”

I wipe the sick from my mouth and stare at Shokenda with absolute disdain. “Every time I make even the slightest stride, it feels like it’s only the beginning.” I stand up and approach her. “The only reason I want this power to begin with is because of you.”

“An understatement. Everything that has happened to you is because of me. It all began with a single order.” She casts her hoof out and addresses an invisible crowd. “‘One stallion imperative to our victory has been taken captive by the Imperial Legion, and he eagerly awaits our aid. Once he finds refuge among us, it is only a matter of time before he bathes all of Everfree in its citizens’ own ignorance and blood!’”

I should be angry, but all I can do is laugh. “And how did that work out for you?”

“Like flowers in the spring!” Shokenda snaps at me. “Don’t pretend you’ve diverted off of a preset course. Your refusal to come along with me, poisoning Tohro with your impudence, it changed nothing! The steps towards my endgame do not rely on you following every step I’ve laid out. I know your kind, Caro. So long as you live, so long as you gain strength, victory is within my grasp.”

“You’ve made that quite clear. All that seems to matter is how powerful I become…” I trail off, realizing that something about all of this doesn’t make sense. It’s only now become clear to me. A stray number in the equation. “Why couldn’t you do it? Why can’t you do it now?”

Shokenda looks up from dusting her armor off. “Hm?”

“You have the thu’um. You have the power to kill a dragon on sight. I’ve seen it happen. Why can’t you take Everfree on your own?”

“Make my presence known in front of its entire populous? Give the Empire something to rally around? I think not.”

“What do you mean?

“If I were to do this alone, you or another Dovahkiin would have an opportunity to gather forces and pin me down. The odds of my failure, slim as they might be, would still be too much for me to risk.” Shokenda flourishes her hoof and points at me. “And what an anticlimax it would be to end this war in an instant when I could make you all suffer for years on end! It never ceases to entertain me! But it has to come to an end eventually, and in that end, you and I will stand in the ashes of Everfree together. But, you are right. Should you die before then, I will still have the capability of destroying Everfree myself. It's a risk I'll just have to take.”

“I won’t have it…” I say as my body shudders. “I won’t let you…” My eyes widen. “Another Dovahkiin? You’ve fought others?”

“Perhaps.” Shokenda turns on her hooves and steps away.

“Wait!” I kick off the dirt and run up the slope of the crater. She’s not making any damn sense. I’d assume she’s trying to drive me mad, but something about this seems different. It’s not a lie. Rather, it’s as if she’s telling part of the truth. The truth of what, though? “What the hell are you, Shokenda?!” I yell, my voice backed by the dragons I’ve slain.

Shokenda looks over her shoulder at me. “A god. The specifics of which are irrelevant, and unneeded to be heard by anypony, least of all you.”

She goes silent, peering over the edge of the cliff. A breeze has picked up, causing her mane and tail to flow. Even that part of her looks unnatural, with wisps of gold, not unlike the ones that surrounded me earlier, rising off of her mane, as well as the injuries I’ve left on her.

She can act as smug as she wants, but I won’t be intimidated anymore. I know I can kill her. I can remove the head of the beast, put an end to this war, and focus my efforts on the dragons. For what Shokenda and the Blackwings have done to me, Tohro, Shae, and everypony else, this is where I’ll put her to rest.

I reach for my sword, only to stop when I feel vibrations beneath me. Pebbles begin to rattle. I can hear the ground shifting in the distance. It could be a minor earthquake, but I have my doubts that I could have such luck.

A clawed hand grasps the edge of the cliff, followed by another. Then there are arms, with violet scales, punctured by spines so sharp I cringe at the very sight of them. This dragon is something new, something I’ve never seen before. He rises into view. His beak is long, with three sets of nostrils that billow out a putrid gas. His eyes are yellow and steely.

I’m not scared. But this one… He makes me back away.

“I heed the call of the Reclaimer… Where is he?” the dragon speaks. His voice is dripping with malice, more shrill than the voices of any other dragon I’ve faced before. He sounds even more depraved and sickly than Nahkriin. “Where is Saviikaan?” he asks me.

I can’t have him here. Not at this moment. This is the worst possible time… “Kuz hin tovit ahstaadvoz!” I yell at the dragon in reply. “Saviikaan is not here!”

“Then… He must have summoned me here for…” The dragon sniffs the air. He puts on a garish smile, showing off his shimmering teeth. “Ah, yes. Dovahkiin. I should have suspected as much. I figured it would only be a matter of time before it was my turn…”

The dragon advances on me. I keep switching my gaze between him and Shokenda, who he seems to pay no mind to.

“First went the weakest, with each dovah gathering in strength, testing your abilities. One after another, just as suspected by Saviikaan, they fell to you, and my, how it shows. I have never felt such aura from any Dovahkiin to precede you!” Depraved, sickly… and excited. A dangerous combination, dragon or otherwise. “But never have any of them succeeded against me. Do you see fit to change that?”

“Yes! But not now!” I shout with a wave of my foreleg. “Leave!”

“Hm. That is not the answer I was expecting, nor one I am willing to accept.”

Before I can recommence our battle of words, my eyes fall on the dragon’s inflating chest. Throwing his head back as a mighty roar escapes his razor-toothed maw, a current of sickly green liquid spews from the dragon’s throat, narrowly missing my flesh as it paints the ground around my hooves.

Judging from the putrid odor and searing sound of disintegrating dirt and rubble, I got off lucky. I step back to escape the substance’s heat, only for another splash to land behind me. It splashes onto my hind leg, searing through my pauldron. Thankfully, it stops before it touches my body, but it tore through like fire on paper...

“So that how you want to play, is it?” I growl upwards at the mighty beast. “Wuld n—” I break out in a fit of coughing. I made the mistake of inhaling. Now I can barely breathe, having to lean on my sword for support once again. “Wu—” I keep hacking. My eyes sting and my nostrils burn… I can do this… A moment of pain for my survival... “Wu-uld…” I dart forward, just barely escaping my toxic prison.

I stand, ignorant of how much my insides hurt. It’s like my organs have turned to glass. I feel like I’m about to retch again, but I hold it in. I stop using my sword as a crutch and keep walking. I have nowhere to go but forward.

“That’s it. One step after the other,” I hear Shokenda say. “The dogma that all your kind insists upon, never faltering, never wavering, never accepting an end.” She lands in front of me. She’s visibly furious. That I survived, or that she wasn’t the one to reduce me to this state. “I truly hate you, Caro. You and the rest of equinekind. The fact that my brethren harbor any sympathy for you fills me with disgust.”

“Bre...thren… You mean… Celina…?”

Shokenda clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “And here I thought you would have come to know by now. ...Or, at least, I would expect Hammerfell to know.”

I’m too weak to attack her for daring to mention his name. All I can do is gasp, “Master…”

Shokenda steps away from me, walking towards the dragon. The dragon is too focused on me to pay her any mind, until she looks up. He looks at her, momentarily angered, but then his expression shifts into a state of understanding.

“Kill him.”

The dragon nods, flaring out his wings and advancing. The ground trembles, as do I. Tears of frustration and grievance start to fall.

I’m so sorry, Tohro…

“Dovahkiin!!”

My tears halt. I know that voice. I heard it once before, echoing off the walls of a dark cave, pleading for my acceptance. I had thought differently about dragons back then, but this one helped change me into what I am now…

I turn and see the grey dragon flying towards me. “Sahvot?!” My mouth opens in disbelief as he lands beside me, the ensuing quake like a gentle reassurance.

“Faal vax!!” Shokenda exclaims.

Sahvot gets in front of me, his tail nearly grazing my body as he braces for the incoming attack. The acidic dragon charges into Sahvot, who blocks the blow with his arms and pushes back against the gigantic beast. Compared to him, Sahvot looks like a child against a hardened warrior, but he’s a fierce one nonetheless, and he saved me.

“Nid aal haalvut faal Dovahkiin. He saved my life. I now return the favor. Leave this place or die, Almoskir.”

The acidic dragon, who I know now is called Almoskir, holds his arm. Sahvot’s claws cut him deep. “Zu'u lor Zu'u lost sizaan hi... Hi los zuk qolor fein Zu'u lor.”

Sahvot must have been pursuing Almoskir. That would explain a lot. No doubt Sahvot has become sympathetic towards Dragonrein’s efforts, but to think he would come to my aid…

I’m unable to muster a word of appreciation before Sahvot’s scaly tail knocks the wind out of me, blowing me back in time for me to witness the smaller dragon’s weight drag along the ground by his claws. A powerful crunch connects with his back against a large boulder, the two dragons now several yards apart before Almoskir begins his charge again.

I watch astonished at the display; Sahvot swiftly maneuvers behind the boulder, scrapes it up with a single claw, and smashes it into the larger dragon’s maw, crumbling into mere pebbles on contact. Sahvot follows up with a earth-shaking strike of his tail combined with his entire body weight, sending Almoskir stumbling backwards before another strike with a claw leaves him crashing to his back.

Sahvot moves to pin the fallen dragon, but the contrast between their body weights are too great for it to last long. Amoskir easily shoves Sahvot away. The two dragons are on their feet once again. Despite landing most of the blows in the short amount of time, Sahvot is left desperately catching his breath, his heavy heaves revealing that he’s not as strong as he looks.

This time around, Sahvot makes the first move, as he charges forth with claws at the ready. Before my eyes can even catch the counterattack for myself, Amoskir has the smaller dragon pinned by the neck under his much thicker tail. The spikes upon the tail dig into Sahvot, piercing his scales and slathering his body in blood.

I call out, joined by the voices of every dragon inside of me. “Sahvot!”

My strength returns. My throat no longer hurts. I start to gallop, every bound making strides even the fastest pegasus would gape at. I’ve never felt such speed before.

Almoskir raises his tail again, ready to land a finishing strike. I won’t allow it. I stand between Sahvot and the impending death that approaches him. My sword raised up high, my hind legs digging into the ground, I take in Almoskir’s attack.

Sparks fly as the spikes grind against my sword. Yet, thanks to Rosemary’s expert crafting, hardly a dent is put into the blade. Alas, the soul gems are all but drained, so I can’t push the tail away… I turn my head towards Sahvot. “Get up!” I yell.

Sahvot brings his arms around me and rises. He snatches Almoskir’s tail, yanking hard. Aloskir cries out as he stumbles forward, helpless to recover as Sahvot cocks his arm back and rams his clenched hand into Aloskir’s head. I can hear bones shatter. Sahvot then brings his hand back around, flaring his claws and slashing through Aloskir’s wound, tearing out muscle, scales, and a fresh splattering of warm blood.

I feel a nudge at my side. Sahvot presents his other hand to me, setting it on the ground and opening it. “Aav zey, Caro. If you trust me.”

“I do,” I say without pause. Even if I myself were reluctant to step onto his palm, I can feel the trust of the dragons in me.

Sahvot lifts me up quickly. He doesn’t have much time before Almoskir is able to recover, despite his utterly destroyed face. It has only served to make him angrier. “Nid groso... Nid aaz... Hin klus fen kos dii zurgah!” he screams.

I jump onto Sahvot’s head and stand between his horns. “We’re with you,” my dragons and I say.

~Vision End~

~Tohro~

Why doesn’t this hurt? Why does my burnt, bleeding, utterly wrecked body not feel any pain? Is it the red potion being shoved down my throat? Is it the sages’ healing magic piecing my skin back together? Is it the dawning comprehension that I survived yet another encounter with the hag I once worshiped? No, I don’t think it’s any of those things…

“Tohro. Tohro!” I hear Shae call out to me. “Are you awake? Can you see me?”

Yes, I can see her. She looks beyond distraught, not that I can blame her. This battle is several levels of hell, all rolled into one. I’ve lost so many soldiers. I expected that much, but it still pained me to see them fall, unable to witness the outcome of their efforts. Without me, being out there to assist them in the stoppering of the pass, I can’t be certain of how this will all end.

That being the case, why am I happy?

Shae takes my hoof, holding it in an iron grip. Such a worrier, this one. “Hello, there,” I say to her. My voice, at its loudest, is just a whisper. Did Shokenda damage my vocal chords? I wouldn’t think her above that. “How are things?”

“It’s awful…” she says. “We’re only able to save so many soldiers. I shouldn’t have come here… I can’t take all of this death. I’ve seen so many amputated limbs, ponies gasping their last breaths, I… I can’t get the stench of blood out.”

I smile up at her. “You’re getting scared over nothing… You used to be so calm. What happened to you?”

“Tohro, you…” She looks like she wants to tell me something, but there’s a wall in front of her. Her hoof covers her neck. For a moment, I swear I see her eyes flash red. “It’s none of your concern.” She immediately reverts to her worried state. “You’re hurt, Tohro. Just stay as you are and let me heal you.”

Shae clasps her hooves together and prepares another healing spell. I’ll never grow used to the sensation of fur and skin growing and shifting so quickly. It’s like my body is stitching itself together, against its own will. Nevertheless, whatever pain I can feel is rapidly fading.

Another sage approaches Shae. “His wounds are deep. If he hopes to get back on his hooves, it will take more than piecing him back together,” she says. “Feed him some more healing vials and put him to sleep.”

“No chance for an appetizer first?” I ask. The sage doesn’t reply, though Shae finds it in her to chuckle. “There’s a smile.”

I part my lips and accept more of the potion into my mouth. It’s a stronger, thicker substance than what I’m used to, and I have a little difficulty swallowing it. It hurts as it goes down my throat.

Shae focuses for a few seconds, then casts another spell that envelopes my body. I start to feel numb. “You’ll fall asleep in just a few minutes,” she says. “I’m not going to lie… When you wake up, you’ll probably be in worse pain than you were when you arrived.”

“It won’t hurt,” I say. “I may not be at my prettiest, but I’ve never felt so alive.”

“Well… Sometimes it takes getting close to death to realize how much of a gift life can be.”

She is so clueless. Divines bless her. I don’t know how I can truly explain myself, but I know that Shae will understand. I’m sure she’s experienced what I’ve gone through, though not in the exact same way.

“Shae…”

“Yes?”

“When…” It’s getting difficult for me to speak. Why couldn’t she wait a little longer to cast that sleep spell? Ah, it’s because she cares so damn much. “When did… did you realize that… you love Rosemary?”

Shae looks away from me and sits down on her haunches. “Well, uh…” She smiles again, thank Epona. “I guess… It was when she braved the wrath of an entire cult and a dragon to come and save my life. I knew she loved me long before then, but I didn’t know for certain that I could return the favor until…”

I complete her line of thought. “You could have died in that cave, and of all the things you thought about before the end, you found yourself thinking of her.”

“Yes… Yes, that’s exactly right.”

Everything is becoming a blur. My eyelids are as heavy as boulders. My head slumps against the pillow. Dammit, I don’t want to sleep just yet…

Caro…

~Vision End~

~Caro~

Sahvot cries out in rage and pain as Almoskir’s teeth sink into his arm. The acidic bastard bites down hard, locking himself in. The way he pulls, he seems keen on ripping Sahvot’s arm clean off. Not if I have any say in the matter. And with the power of several dragons backing me up, oh, how I do.

What would be a momentous effort to anyone else, leaping the distance from one dragon to another, is easy for me. I land on Sahvot’s twitching hand and face Almoskir. I trust the dragons in me to know what to do. “Zahkrii bel kinz… zuk!” we shout. Ten golden swords above my head. I take the hilt of one in my mouth and leap at Almoskir’s jaw. I embed the blade into his scales. I doubt he feels it, but he will in a moment… I’m not sure how, but I’m sure this will lead me to victory.

I leap off of Sahvot’s hand, taking my nine remaining blades with me. I send two of the swords to stab Almoskir’s shoulder, and as I descend down his arm, send three more into his hand. I hit the ground hard, leaving impact marks where I land. I have four swords left, I better make them count…

As I gallop to the leg, I send two of my remaining swords into Almoskir’s stomach, then take the last two in my hooves as I leap through the air. I land the swords in his foot.

“Well done, Caro. Allow me,” says Malyol. I let him into me, feeling his power taking control of my throat. “Kaag!” he shouts through me.

The swords come alight and detonate with a force more powerful than any bomb I’ve ever seen. It starts at Almoskir’s jaw, with muscle and bone falling to the ground in pieces. He immediately legs go of Sahvot. The rest of his body is ravaged by the exploding blades as well, with his arm, leg, and stomach all torn to shreds. He falls to the ground, hissing with pain and anger.

Malyol speaks again. “Run. Now.”

Just when I think this whole ordeal has me exhausted, another reservoir of strength is untapped. My my hooves move furiously, as if the dragons control them as much as I do. My view of the sky is eclipsed by the larger dragon’s scaly underbelly, a thought which occupies my head a mere second before I’m found throwing myself to avoid Almoskir’s earth-shattering stomp.

I’ve entrusted my body to the dragons, not allowing a single thought of doubt to cloud my head. Because of this, a claw resting open and bare in front of my hooves nearly catches me off guard, my eyes tracing the hand up to the shoulder to discover that it belongs to a saving grace.

“Sahvot,” I say with relief. I hop aboard and let him take me back to my perch atop his head.

Almoskir is livid, his nostrils fuming and his distorted eyes dilated. He rises from his fall and digs his claws into the ground. He seems to care not for his exposed muscle tissue. He opens his mouth.

We all know what to do. “Jaaril lahspaan helt zuk!” we yell with a harmonic ring. I can feel my power leave my body as it manifests itself into a wall of light in front of me. I was just in time. The trail of acid only makes it so far as it splashes into my shield.

Almoskir isn’t done yet. He lets out an enraged roar and charges at the shield. I don’t expect it to hold up for very long against him. He cracks it with just a shoulder check. Several shards fall off when he hits it a second time.

“Hold on tight,” says Sahvot. He crouches down, as do I.

Almoskir shatters the shield with a fierce punch, immediately charging through as the shards fade away. His claws and fangs are at the ready, hungry for the kill.

Sahvot has none of it. He grabs Alomskir’s arms and forces them upwards. “Fus ro dah!” he shouts. Almoskir’s head is thrown backwards, leaving him defenseless against Sahvot, who ensnares him by the shoulders. Despite being easily outmatched in size, Sahvot still manages to lift him up, bring him over his head, and take him down. Almoskir’s head hits the ground first, with the rest of his body shaking the ground as it falls after.

“You filthy… vax…” Almoskir sputters out. “Turning your back on your own kind—”

“Why would he want to be associated with creatures like you?” Rasahrel says through me. “Those blinded to all reason and forced into the servitude of a vorohah jun. Saviikaan’s time is over. He needs to accept that.”

“Sister.” Almoskir seems to recognize Rasahrel’s voice. “You always were easily swayed. Has the key seduced you so?”

“I have grown fond of this stallion, I admit,” she says. Ah, she might make me blush. “But, for the most part, I simply despise you.”

“Then take solace in that I give this victory to you. Not that it will mean much.” Almoskir chuckles, getting back on his arms and legs.

Sahvot is quick to react, attempting to hold him down, but it’s not enough. Almoskir throws him off easily. I end up losing my balance, having to hold on to Sahvot’s horns to keep myself from falling. My connection with Rasahrel is upset, causing her to go quiet. I regain control of my voice. “What are you talking about?!” I yell.

“Dovahkiin. I know that your fellow equines are gathered not too far from here. I can smell them.”

I hear a faint whistling in my ears. “No.”

Dust rises from the ground as Almoskir spreads his wings. He’s taking off. And if he gets away…

“Sahvot!” I yell, tapping my dragon companion on the head.

I was so distraught, I hadn’t noticed that Sahvot is also readying himself for flight. “Geh, I know. He will not harm our fahdon.”

Friends.

Sahvot doesn’t have time to rise gracefully. His start is like an angry politician barging in on a meeting. He’s fast, abrupt, and he causes everything to shake. I keep an iron grip on his horn as the edges of my vision stretch out and blur, cold air assaulting my fur, my mane trailing behind me.

All the while, I’m fixated on Almoskir. He flies slower than I would expect, likely due to his injuries… To say they’re injuries is putting it lightly; his blood is like rain. He won’t get far.

He sweeps through the pass, drawing the eyes of many Imperial soldiers and Blackwings alike, who stop their fighting to gaze up in awe, and simultaneously cower.

Despite being at death’s door, Almoskir still finds it in himself to gloat. “Such is the nature of you equines. You kneel to us… You must kneel to us, even if you do not think it.”

“Do not listen to him!” Sahvot yells. “This is exactly as he has done with the Dovahkiin before you.”

“I’ve been broken too often to fall for mere words,” I say.

Sahvot continues to close the distance between us and our foe. Almoskir seems to have no intents of saving his strength, giving it his all to cross the battlefield to the Imperial camp. Of all the dragons I’ve fought, this sordid attempt to take the lives of defenseless, vulnerable bystanders is by far the greatest sin any of them could commit.

Then again, when I look below and see the lifeless husks of hundreds of soldiers, Imperial and Blackwing alike, I consider that I may be exaggerating. A few dozen sages mean little compared to this greater number of soldiers.

I know the difference between the sages and these soldiers, though; the sages are still alive, and they did not come here to be torn apart by a dragon. Death at the hooves of an equal would be preferable. Even more so, they should all live… If only that were possible.

“Can you strike him from this distance?” Sahvot asks.

I look ahead at Almoskir. He’s ill-prepared to deflect any of my attacks, but I don’t think anything direct, like fire or lightning, can breach his armor. No, my best option is to disable him, so Sahvot can go in for the kill.

“Iiz diin naak!” I shout. A streak of blue flies from my mouth, directly at Almoskir’s tail. The instant it connects with him, spikes of ice spring forth and consume his tail. His wings flap sporadically, his arms flailing as he tries to maintain altitude, but he can’t hold it. He’s going to fall.

But he seems prepared for this too. He steers into his fall, heading towards a canyon wall. He swings around and smashes his tail against the wall, shattering the ice, but his tail is ripe with scratches, dented out of shape. Also, he’s vulnerable.

Sahvot blows a stream of fire at Almoskir as he goes in for the kill. Almoskir glides out of the way, just barely avoiding Sahvot’s angry fist, which tears right through the wall.

“Just as the infestation tore Saviikaan’s kingdom asunder, all equinekind and its supporters are capable of is destruction,” gloats Almoskir.

“The Precursors doomed themselves!” Sahvot yells, brandishing his claws.

Almoskir dives to dodge the attack, turning away and flying off again. “Irrelevant. Return they shall, ready to obey Saviikaan... Just as it was before, our kingdom will reach the heavens themselves.” As he speaks, he turns his head to the sky and quickly ascends.

“He’s trying to lose us,” I say to Sahvot.

“It won’t happen.” Sahvot kicks off the remains of the canyon wall and pursues once again. The clouds grow larger as we fly higher. I can feel frost forming at the tips of my mane. I ignore it and keep my grip, bracing for the moment when we breach the clouds and rise above, where Almoskir can’t hide.

The moment we hit the clouds, moisture and ice batter my face. I close my eyes, grit my teeth, and hunker down close to Sahvot. He is my lifeline in all of this… I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him, a dragon… I should be more confused, torn, and unsure about all of this. I’m allying with one of the very things I have sworn to kill. But then again… I’ve fought alongside dragons since I first killed Nahkriin, haven’t I? No, it’s more than that. Master has always been a dragon, simply choosing to take the form of a stallion. So I’ve had dragons on my side since I was born.

The soul is what matters. The form is irrelevant. That is why I accept Sahvot’s companionship; our souls are alligned.

We shatter the last layer of cloud to reveal an endless blue sky, with the sun shining off in the west, early in its descent. This would be an ordinary sight to pegasi, but I’m seeing this for the first time, and words just aren’t enough… If only my first time witnessing this were with Tohro.

Almoskir is gone from sight, nowhere to be found in any direction. “Damn…” I growl. “He must have given us the slip in the clouds.”

“I haven’t lost his scent. Give me some time…” Sahvot cranes his neck and inhales. “This way.” He soars along the clouds, his eyes scanning and his nostrils flaring as he seeks out our foe. “Move onto my back, Caro. I need to keep an eye out, and accidentally throwing you off is not in either of our best interests.”

“I agree,” I say with a smile. I slowly let go of Sahvot’s horns and walk down his body. Thank the Divines for my good posture; a lesser pony would be subject to a long fall.

“I wish to confess something to you,” says Sahvot. “Might I do so?”

“By all means,” I reply.

“I know what it is to be full of vengeance and hatred for a species that isn’t my own. I harbored so much anger against you equines after I was taken hostage by the zealot.”

“Sacred Rite?” I still have bad dreams about her death, and how she begged for release, but Tohro’s words blocked me from delivering her request. “I can see why… She was the worst of our kind, but she’s gone now.”

“That she is, and I owe that to you, and your friends. Had the unicorn not happened along, had I endured just one more week in that pit, I would have never found it in me to accept key as anything but bottom feeders, just as how Saviikaan sees you.” Sahvot turns towards me. Much like with Master, I can see emotions beyond anger and loathing, and they seem strange on the face of a dragon. Yet, they are no less welcome. “Knowing that the good ones of your kind don’t stand for injustice and stride for a better world, that is what gives me hope. The Precursors never had such ambition…”

“They were content to take in the dragons’ leadership without question? Never pursuing anything beyond Saviikaan’s approval?”

Sahvot seems surprised. “Precisely. Who told you this?”

“My master. Hammerfell. You might know him.”

“He’s still alive?!” Sahvot exclaims with a roar of surprise. He turns away and faces the horizon, as furious as any dragon I’ve seen. At least he’s angry for the right reasons. “When we first attempted to take back this land, Saviikaan insisted that Hammerfell was dead. Then again, why should I be so surprised? Saviikaan hated Hammerfell for sympathizing with his subjects, taking on the name they chose for him rather than forcing them to speak his own… He was the exact opposite to Saviikaan in every way.”

“And that is why the ponies of Neigh Hrothgar worship him. He’s an earthly god that deserves recognition, unlike Saviikaan or Shokenda…” I trail off, looking away as I contemplate something. “Huh.”

“Is something the matter?” Sahvot asks. “I might have an inkling—”

A patch of clouds erupts just in front of us. Sahvot leans upright, flaring out his wings as he tries to come to a halt. The sudden stop causes me to smack my face against his back. I’m disoriented, flailing my forelegs blindly as I try to find something to grab onto. By some miracle, I manage to get a grip on Sahvot’s spines, but it’s not ideal. They’re sharp. Very sharp. But I’ve had worse than a few deep cuts.

Almoskir has risen from the clouds. He broadsides Sahvot, who takes the blow without complaint. He isn’t as resilient against the next attack, which comes in the form of a slash across his shoulder. Almoskir strikes several times, drawing more and more blood every time he cuts into Sahvot.

Why isn’t Sahvot moving? Why doesn’t he try to dodge? He might throw me off, but that's beside the point.

...He’s willing to die for me, isn’t he?

Sahvot inhales and spits out a stream of fire that wards off Almoskir. It doesn’t last for long, though. The flames sputter out when Sahvot winces, grabbing his gaping wound.

With Sahvot’s wing flaps shaking me, the spins are grinding further into my legs. I can feel them tearing my muscles. I have to convince myself it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt. It’ll heal. I’ll be fine…

“Hold on, Caro!”

I look beneath me, but there’s nothing there for me to safely land on. It’s just clouds and sky. I might be able to survive the fall, with a little help from the Thu’um, but I would be leaving Sahvot to his own wits, and he won’t stand a chance without me. Either we stay together, or we both go down. “Just keep up your guard! I’ll be there!”

Almoskir is preparing another rain of acid, and I’m in no place to summon a shield. I can’t focus my power, and I need to concentrate on a single area for longer than this constant shaking will allow. Sahvot will have to dodge, and that won’t do me any favors.

Sahvot dives, tucking his body and rolling out of the range of the acid spray, but I lose my grip in the process. I’m flung into the air, trails of blood leaving my legs as they’re removed from Sahvot’s spines. For a terrifying second, I’m exposed to the open air, with a mile drop to the world below.

It takes me a moment to realize I’ve been caught in a familiar hand. My heart throbs as I lay my head on Sahvot’s soft scales. If I had the means, I would embrace him. For a moment, he reminds me of Master, in the way he stares down at me with warmth in his eyes. A dragon with genuine gratitude for the life of a little pony.

Almoskir’s claws pierce through Sahvot’s body, breaking out of his chest.

Collectively, every dragon in me calls out at once, joining my voice. “BROTHER!!”

Sahvot appears unsurprised, as if unaware of what just happened. His body seems to realize it before he does. His head sways, his wings flap once before going lax, and his arms fall to his sides, leaving me to roll off and go into a fall once again.

Sahvot falls towards me as we pass through the cloud layer. I reach out to him, hoping that I can take in his soul as the lights leave his eyes. He has the same thought. He weakly raises his wings, trying to angle them so he can fall towards me.

Almoskir appears out of a thick bundle of clouds, flying at frightening speed. He snatches Sahvot’s arm, bending it past any way an arm should ever bend, until I hear a snap. Sahvot is too weak to cry out. Almoskir then grabs him by the neck, opens his mouth, and bites. He tears at Sahvot’s neck, ripping out half of its mass in a single bite. Anything that remains doesn’t last, as Almoskir sprays enough acid to consume Sahvot’s face. His scales, muscle, and skull all erode before my eyes.

I close my eyes as the grotesque discord of rotting flesh and bone fills my ears, all the while gritting my teeth from the pain. The pain of my bleeding legs. The pain of the cold ice and wind assaulting my back. The pain of every single dragon within me as we hear the violent death of our brother. It’s a second that lasts an eternity, and how I want it to just end, one way or another...

“It’s over, little one…” Rasahrel whispers to me, her voice shaking. “Please, open your eyes.”

I do as she says, even though I don’t want to.

Sahvot is dead. No corpse to be seen. No proof that he even existed. No soul for me to collect. Almoskir consumed it all. And he’s smiling. I try to shout, but my voice is consumed in the void.

Rasahrel is right. It’s over.

I’m throttling through the air, at the mercy of the elements and an inevitable rain of acid that will either take my life or leave me unable to keep myself from softening my impact with the ground.

I look down. Somehow, through the maelstrom of ice and wind and blood, I can see the Imperial camp. I know Shae is there. I know several soldiers, wounded and healthy alike, are there. With any luck, Tohro and Gauntlet have found their way there by now, and will be brought back to proper health. They’re all getting along so well without me, aren’t they?

Except for one loose end. The dragon above me, who would gladly see them put to a horrid death. First comes me, then all of them.

I’ll save him the trouble of the former.

As my blood runs gold, and my eyes shine bright, I realize what I have to do. Being suspended a mile in the air suddenly doesn’t seem like such an obstruction, and a single acid-spitting beast doesn’t seem like much of a threat.

I have my sword. I’ll need at least a little power if I want to make this work, but the gems are depleted of soul, so I have nothing to use against Almoskir.

"So I use the sword's power to strike my enemy down and take their essence, which fills the soul gem, which charges the weapon..."

Maybe I was wrong to assume this sword only fills itself when it takes in an enemy’s essence. Maybe it can work on anypony. Maybe…

I look at my left foreleg, only needing an instant to decide. It’s just one leg. Not as if I’ll be using any of my legs by the time I’m done here.

The strength of the dragons allows me to resist the wind as I raise my sword up high. I cast out my foreleg and bring the blade down on myself.

In a single, almost perfect swing, my foreleg is gone, lost to the air. And yet, oddly, it feels as though it’s still there. For a second, I almost miss it. My only regret to this decision is the fountain of blood that drains from what remains of my foreleg. Makes it a little difficult to keep my focus.

Most importantly, it worked. One of the soul gems has come alight, filled with my own essence. I cock my sword back with my remaining foreleg. The dragons provide me with the knowledge of how far back I must hold it, where I should let go, and in what direction I should aim. Their collective minds tell me exactly what needs to be done.

It all happens slowly, just as Almoskir opens his mouth, ready to let loose another torrent of acid. He won’t get the chance.

“Swing your leg forward,” says Malyol.

“Let go of the sword now,” says Hevnodiin.

“Trust it to know the way,” says Nahkriin.

My sword rotates through the air. It travels in a curve, colliding with Almoskir’s mouth the instant it opens up all the way. There’s a burst of white light, which destroys several of his teeth, and severs his tongue.

Almoskir chokes, grabbing for his neck, gargling on his own acid. That was all he had left. Now he succumbs to every wound Sahvot and I inflicted upon him. His body is decomposing from the inside. His muscles are deteriorating. He is ceasing to be. I may not be able to obtain his soul, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t have much use for it anyway.

“Caro!” Rasahrel yells. “If Almoskir’s corpse lands in the Imperial camp, this won’t mean a damn thing…”

I turn my body and look at the camp once again. Another thought occurs to me.

Master always told me the stories… Ancient heroes who would sacrifice anything just to preserve a single innocent life. I had formed the expectation that such chances came along every day, and I simply needed to keep my eyes open.

My eyes were shut for a long time. When I lost Master, I became the exact opposite of the hero I should have been. I was an insult to my own title. Yes, I killed a few dragons, and perhaps I protected more innocent lives that most have the opportunity to. But I was cruel. Selfish. I desired death more than life. I expected the world to change for me, when I was the one who had to change the world.

If only I could have done better. If only I could have left more alive. If only I hadn’t said some things. If only I had said some things sooner…

That doesn’t matter anymore, because now I see an opportunity to be the hero I’ve always wanted to be. Giving myself up for something greater. The Empire. The soldiers. The sages. My friends. Tohro…

I best make these next two shouts count, because they will be my last. After that, the rest of the world can decide what happens next.

I finally find the strength to speak. The elements now obey me, because they’re not what’s important here. What’s important is that I get to the camp before Almoskir, and there’s only one way to do that.

“WULD NAH KEST!!”

~Vision End~

~Tohro~

I wake to yet another sting, this time in my chest. I try to clamp my hoof to it, but I’m too weak.

“Blimey, Shae… Let me know before you start. Hurts like a—”

Shae plants her hoof on my lips. “Shh. Talking only makes it worse.” She resumes the healing, taking a rag that’s been dipped in another red potion and dabbing it on the seams of my wounds. Oh, how I wish a strong mentality were enough to put the pain to rest. Everything that happened earlier was just an induced high that allowed me to deny how much my body hurts.

Induced by what, though? The answer should be obvious. It’s the very reason I’m still smiling right now. I haven’t felt like this in a long time, and even then, I never felt it in this particular way.

Shae gives me a smile in return. I’m glad that she went out of her way to heal me, but more than anything, I want somepony else here. But he’s fighting hard, securing safety on the battlefield for me and everypony else out there.

Shae rinses out her rag and goes on to where she’s needed next. By the darkness lining her eyes, I can tell she needs rest, but I know she’s not going to. She’ll push on through all of this pain. She’s become a strong mare. She’s thick skinned, all the way through. Not at all like me… One thing seeps through me, like Shokenda’s hoof, and I’m useless to everypony.

But I won’t stop fighting. There will never be a reason for me to stop fighting, until I can have that quiet, peaceful life I’ve always dreamed of…

I hear a rumble, and a crash. A flash of light shines through the tent. I hear some of the sages yelling. The shield must have been broken. Have the elites arrived?

Shae is the first one in the tent to look outside. She looks worried, for a moment, but when she sees what everypony else is looking at, she looks outright horrified. “CARO!”

No.

Shae leaves the tent, with me still lying here. It’s clear that she expects me to stay and heal, but I can’t wait for this. I need to get up. I need to see him. Whatever’s happened to him, even if I’m no good to help fix it, I want to be there for him. It’s what he’d do for me.

Against all logic and pain. I rise from the bed. My chest and stomach feel as though they’re full of splinters, and my hooves refuse to work with me. Dammit, move! You’ve been through worse.

I move my body all at once. I roll off the bed, hitting the ground hard. A sharp pain shoots through my whole body. I cry out, just a little bit, but that doesn’t stop me from moving. I drag myself, bandages and all, inch by inch, to the entrance of the tent.

I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing. A part of the sages’ shield has been shattered, leaving a gaping hole, and Caro lies beneath it, lying on his side with his mouth open, and his eyes closed. From head to hoof, he’s covered in blood. His left foreleg is gone. It doesn’t look like he’s moving.

No, no. Divines, no. Don’t do this to me.

I reach out, plant my hoof into the ground, and pull myself forward. I don’t go very far, but I do it again. I feel weaker with every pull, yet I keep going. I manage to get close to Caro, before all the bystanders start to crowd around him.

“Tohro, what are you doing?!” Shae says in a panic. I don’t reply to her. She kneels down to Caro and conjures up a healing spell. I don’t think that’s going to be enough, but she can try her damndest. I start feeling a little more hopeful when the other sages follow her example.

“Caro…” I stroke his bloodstained cheek. “Please, open your eyes.”

Nothing happens. Open closer inspection, I can see that he’s still breathing, but it’s like a lesser animal’s breath, being fast and weak.

“Everyone’s here for you, Caro. We’ve been waiting for you to come back. We need you.” I brush my other hoof through his mane. “I need you.”

His eyes open, and my heart jumps. For a second, my pain fades away again. I’m at a loss for what to say next. I never considered how I would tell him the truth. I figured the words would just come to me.

Caro seems to know the word, though. He always does. He parts his bloodied lips and speaks in a dry, weak voice. “F…Feim…”

“What?”

“...zii… gr...on…” Caro looks at me, a weak smile crossing his lips. “...f...fahdon…”

It feels like a breeze is passing over me. Suddenly, my body feels lighter. My pain is a distant throb, and it’s less of a constant presence, now being more of a suggestion; I know my wounds are here, but I don’t quite notice them.

I look at myself to see what’s happened. I’ve lost my white coat. My entire body is turning translucent. I look up at Shae to ask her what’s going on, and see that she’s going through the same transformation. I can see the tent through her body, as well as another translucent pony. Everypony in the camp seems to be going through this transformation at once.

I remember this. Caro used this ability to avoid getting mauled by the chimera. While he was like this, the beast passed right through him, and he stepped away unharmed. Now he’s granted us the same protection…

It only takes the scream of a sage and a quick glance upwards to see why he did this. The decaying remains of a dragon are falling from the sky, cloaking the camp in shadow. It doesn’t matter how strong the shield is; it can’t withstand that much weight.

The dragon crashes into the shield, and there’s only a brief moment of resistance before it shatters and disappears. The dragon comes down, hitting the ground and causing a mighty tremor.

It would be a horrifying sight if it weren’t for the assurance that the dragon can’t hurt us. Those that were caught in its fall end up walking right out of its body, alarmed but by no means hurt. They move away from the dragon with speed.

All goes quiet. We’re all alive, and another great threat has been put to rest by the Dragonborn. This should be a happy occasion, but it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Why did the dragon have to come here now, in the middle of the Empire’s greatest battle? Why, when victory was on the horizon, did everything fall apart? Why did Caro have to end up like this? Why is this happening?!

I take a fearful look across the gorge. I see the Blackwings watching from afar, coming to the realization that our last line is gone. I know what they’re going to do next. They’ll sacrifice anyone and anything to ensure their victory.

We’re not going to win this battle.

What’s worse is that the dragon seems keen on taking us to the grave with him. As he rots, acid drains from its scales, coalescing into a pool. It grows rapidly. It will consume the camp, along with all of our supplies, weapons, carriages, and should Caro’s shout wear off, our lives.

Rosemary dashes out from her tent. “We have to go! Now!”

A single soldier raises his hoof in protest. “But we can still fight!”

“No, we can’t.” Captain Gauntlet stumbles out of the infirmary, sans his gear, with his hoof clutching his shoulder. “There’s nothing here worth fighting for. It’s over. Stop what you’re doing and leave. Doesn’t matter where you go.”

“We can’t push any of the cots while we’re like this!” exclaims one of the sages. “We’d have to carry the wounded.”

“Then do so! Get as many out as you can! We’re going!” Captain Gauntlet signals every nearby soldier and ushers them away. “Wounded take priority!”

I suppose that means I’ll have to carry Caro. I turn to him, thanking every Divine I can think of that he’s still moving, and that his eyes are open. I reach my forelegs around him, but they just pass right through him.

He wasn’t able to cast the spell on himself. I can’t touch him. I won’t be able to get him out of here…

“No.” My heart goes numb. “No, no, please!”

I keep trying to touch him, but my forelegs keep passing through him. There’s nothing I can do… But I have to help him! If he were in my place, he’d find a way! He’d do something! I can save him, somehow! I just need time… I need more time…

“Tohro!” Rosemary yells. “Let’s get a move on!” She approaches me and holds out her hoof.

I’m about to scream at her, tell her that she’s being selfish beyond all reason, but when I look at her, I see the grief in her expression. Grim acceptance.

Fine. That’s how she’ll go about it. I’m staying here with him. Even if I can’t touch him, I know he can at least see me. I wrap my forelegs around his neck and bring myself as close to him as I can without passing through him. I can feel what little of his warmth remains.

It’s okay… Nothing can hurt him as long as I’m here…

I hear him choke. His head starts to turn, and his eyelids drop.

I shake my head. I can’t accept this. “N-No, you can’t! I…”

Rosemary yanks on my hind leg. “Tohro!”

“NO!” I buck her in the chest, causing her to reel. I don’t care about how much I hurt her. All that matters is this. “I love you, Caro! See?! I said it! Can’t you hear me?! You can’t die! Don’t leave me! I lo—”

“Okay, that’s it!” Rosemary comes around and strikes me in the jaw. My voice fails, for a second, but more than that, I’m stunned enough for Rosemary to lift me up by my waist and put me over her back. I’m too weak to resist her.

“YOU BASTARD!” I scream, flailing and weakly hitting Rosemary with my barely movable limbs. “PUT ME DOWN! JUST LET ME BE WITH HIM!”

“I’m sorry…”

“CARO! CAROOOOOOOOOOO!!!”