“I’m sure a warm welcome awaits you back in Everfree. I envy you all greatly. It’ll still be a few days from now that I’ll finally be able to return to Trottingham…” Jarl Drake closes her eyes and shies away. “Alone.” She grits her teeth and shakes her head. “That’s not relevant. Caro, Tohro, please see to it that no harm comes to her on your way back.”

“Now more than ever, I promise that won’t happen,” says Caro, his voice strong and valiant, defying the downpour that surrounds the town. He turns to Shae and says, “We won’t let this hinder you. Just stay close to us.”

Shae nods. Her hoof’s grip tightens around Caro’s leg. She remains fixated only on what she can hear, tilting her head towards whomever speaks. She looks to Jarl Drake, hearing the clatter of her jewelry as she steps forward. “If there is any chance that somepony could fix this…” the jarl says, trailing off as she looks at Shae.

“I don’t think we can hope for another miracle,” Shae says. She raises her hoof to her cheek, just beneath her clouded eyes. “This was my mistake. I’ll just have to accept it.”

“Perhaps Celina and Luna might know of some solution?”

Even though Shae is unable to look Drake directly in the eyes, the jarl still feels the intensity of her stare. Coupled with the memories of their previous discussion in the shack a few nights before, Jarl Drake feels enough tension to make her decide to back away, and avoid pressing the issue any further.

“Right…” she says, clearing her throat. “Keep calm and carry on…”

“My children are just that, Jarl Drake; my children. Even if it were within their means to heal… this,” Shae gestures to her eyes again, “I wouldn’t impose such a burden on them. Their focus should be on their future as good rulers, not their mother’s foolish decisions.” She turns around and starts away from the path. “I’m blind. That’s the end of it.”

“Uh, Shae?” Tohro raises his hoof. “Everfree’s in the opposite direction.”

Shae turns towards the sound of his voice. “My point still stands.” She flinches, then touches her forehead. She realizes that droplets of rain have begun to fall again. “Hm. The Weather Guild has been merciless with the rain lately, hasn’t it?”

“I’d warrant they’re trying to wash Ghastly Gorge clean,” Caro states. “Or at least hinder Blackwing scouts.”

“That sounds about right,” Tohro replies. “The Blackwings tried to use the Weather Guild to their advantage in the early days of the war. Paying them off and all. But the Empire’s pockets ran deeper, so most of them abandoned Fillydelphia and its surrounding territories. Too few were left to alter the weather in Blackwing territories, and now everything past Marekarth is left to the mercy of nature itself. More often than not, it’s a perpetual blizzard.”

“No wonder you don’t shiver on cold nights,” Caro remarks. He looks over himself, noticing the dissonance between his heavy fur and the relative baldness of his new leg. “I had to build up this coat for a month before I could stand sleeping in Neigh Hrothgar.”

“Aw, the Dragonborn is cold-blooded? Who knew?” Tohro nuzzles up to Caro. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep both you and Shae warm.”

“You know I can hear you,” Shae says, tapping Tohro on his barrel. “And, uh, thank you.”

“It’s what anypony would do,” Tohro replies as he and Caro step away from each other and pretend as though their red cheeks aren’t on full display.

“Of course it is.” Shae lowers her head slightly. “Except Rosemary.” She grits her teeth and shakes her head. “No, I mustn't think that way.”

“If she knew what happened, she’d be here in a second,” Tohro says reassuringly. “She’ll come by the Rainbow Palace as soon as she’s done with her mission… Whatever it is.”

“Let’s move,” Caro says, waving Dragonrein forward.

With a resolute grunt, Shae runs after Caro and Tohro. The prevalent dollop of fear that holds her is alleviated when she feels her two stallion friends stand close to her, keeping her guarded at both sides.

Dragonrein departs down the dirt road to the village’s exit. As they walk, a few of the villagers take notice and leave their homes to have a look. They wave to their heroes as they pass by.

A filly leans over the porch railing to call out, “Caro! Go and bring peace!”

“No Blackwing will stand in your path!” a wounded soldier cheers as his bandages are reapplied by a beautiful young mare.

“Safe journey to you all!” says the mare.

Jarl Drake steps forward, about to lend words of support, but she quickly realizes that she has nothing off the top of her head that hasn’t been said before. She racks her mind for something to say, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Caro!”

The Dragonborn turns his head, though he keeps walking.

“I’m sorry.”

Caro shrugs and shows her a smile. “For what?” he says back.

Jarl Drake backs away as Dragonrein continues onward. As she returns to the infirmary, she follows Caro’s example and puts on a smile. It doesn’t last.

The outset of Dragonrein’s trip is quiet and unsettling. Aside from a slight chill that seeps into the skins of Caro, Tohro and Shae, there is little to impede them as they make their way to Everfree.

However, a few things of note do occur. At a crossroads, they encounter a pony-drawn carriage, with the pullers looking exhausted beyond their breaking point. Caro steps forward, ready to offer assistance, but Tohro holds his foreleg out to stop him. He shakes his head with an apologetic frown, then nods at Shae.

“Be selfish for once,” he whispers to Caro.

The pullers both grunt in acknowledgement of Dragonrein, and pass them by without a word. In the back of the carriage are several bags of what smells like herbs and spices, along with a few sleeping zebras.

They continue onward. While Caro does adhere to his vow to keep Shae close by, there are times where, in an effort to stay near her, he finds himself straying off the road along with her. When they walk a cobbled path along a river, Caro realizes something is wrong when he can’t feel the cobblestones beneath his hooves, despite the path going on ahead.

“Caro, I’m stuck,” Shae says plainly, tugging on Caro’s hoof.

Caro looks down and sees that Shae has one of her forelegs trapped in a mudhole. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he says, sighing with relief. “Just pull out.”

The mudhole makes an unpleasant squelching noise as Shae pulls her foreleg out. Her coat and garb end up splattered with earthly bits. “Disgusting,” she mumbles. “I hoped that I’d at least be presentable to Celina and Luna.”

“I can heat up a deep puddle so you can take a bath,” Caro suggests. “Epona knows we could all use one.”

“Maybe later. I don’t want to lose any daylight,” Shae says, taking a step forward. She pauses, looks down, and sighs. “Let’s just… go.”

She taps the ground in an effort to find the cobblestones again. Caro gently pulls her towards the path, and continues to lead her along the way.

Tohro is about to follow when he hears tapping in the mud behind him. He grabs a blade from his wing, turns around, and throws it. The blade lands dead center in the head of a scrounging mudcrab.

“Horrible creatures,” he mutters, turning back around and following Caro and Shae. For a fleeting moment, he wishes he were the one being led by Caro’s strong forelegs, but he stuffs it away. He knows what’s important. “Oi, what was it you were saying about puddles?” he asks.

“We were stuck at that infirmary for far too long, and sponge baths aren’t exactly an ideal means of hygiene when you’re caked in blood and sweaty bandages down to the roots,” Caro says.

“You always know how to set the mood, love…” Tohro replies with a sarcastic groan. “You’re right, though.” He scratches at his mane, which lacks any of its usual feathered beauty, clinging to his face like a mop. “Bit of a dip would set us just so.”

“I’ll be able to clean myself,” Shae states.

“I wasn’t about to offer unless you asked,” Caro replies.

“Just being pre-emptive. I welcome the company, though.” Shae’s ears twitch eagerly.

A wide gap between trees and grass presents a distorted patch of land coated in warm rocks and moistened dirt. The sky is partially obscured by a thin veil of steam rising from the large, milky puddles that fill dozens of craters.

Tohro whistles as he looks upon the strange landscape, stepping onto the dirt cautiously. “It’s like scar tissue. How could we resist taking a pick at it?” He flies ahead, skimming the surface of every puddle he passes.

“I feel cleaner already,” Caro says with an approving grin. He takes Shae’s leg and leads her down the slope. “Doesn’t the steam feel nice?”

“Hm. It does.” Shae is happy as well, though her smile is thin and subtle, at least for a moment. Then, her face lights up slightly. “Oh! I think I know where we are! I remember reading about a patch of hot springs in my geography books. This is Dirt!”

“Very... astute of you,” Caro says, trying to mask any sense of sarcasm.

“No, I mean, this place is called Dirt! Don’t you know? This was where Equestria was founded.”

“Don’t the uncreative names usually come after they run out of good ones?”

Shae shoots Caro as much of a stare as she can manage. “Tohro has been rubbing off on you in more ways than one, hasn’t he?” She reclaims her smile and continues. “See, it was decades ago that Chancellor Puddinghead and Smart Cookie of the Great Plains made their way here. They were the first to set hoof into Equestria. But it wasn’t sheer luck that led them here. Do you know what it was?”

A few answers come to Caro’s mind. He considers the most obvious one. “A map?”

“No, Chancellor Puddinghead poked holes in the map and wore it as a pair of glasses.” Shae pauses when she detects an air of bewilderment. “That’s just… how he was. But it wasn’t him and his strange ways that led him and Smart Cookie to this place; it was a meteor shower.”

“Is that so?”

“Certainly. After days of being stranded from their group on a mountainside, they spotted a meteor shower and decided to follow it out of desperation. One of those meteors fell from the sky and landed…” Shae holds her hoof aloft, then brings it down to the ground. “...right here. It caused the moisture in the ground to boil to the surface, and it remains hot to this day thanks to the rare materials in the meteor.”

Tohro lands next to Shae, cutting in as if he never wandered off. “Rare materials, you say?” He reaches into his bag and presents a pickaxe.

“When did you get that?” Caro asks.

“Back in Ivarstable, after we first met. Never had a chance to use it until now.” He looks at the pickaxe, his expression slowly growing dejectful. “...I’m a fool to think they haven’t mined this place down to the pebble, aren’t I?”

“At least you stopped before you could make an ass of yourself.” Caro nods to a large pool of simmering water just beside a destroyed cabin. “Now, let’s clean ourselves up.”

After a few minutes pass, with his fur having already become thoroughly soaked, Caro comes to regret every instance of his life that hasn’t been spent in a hot spring. He has already tended to his hygiene, and only has to worry about relaxation, and as such has relegated himself to a stationary position on the fringe of the crater. He sinks into the water, to the point where his nostrils are barely above the surface. He puckers his lips and breathes into the water, creating a stream of bubbles that pop in front of him. He laughs to himself at such a sight.

“Well, aren’t you pleased as a first timer at a Olympian orgy?” Tohro asks, stepping out of the cabin with nothing but a few bandages covering his body. He is still blemished from neck to pelvis in scars left by Shokenda, but Caro’s blush and smile makes him feel like a million gold pieces. “Hello,” he says with a bit more of a chime to his voice.

Caro rises from the water and clears his throat. “What took you so long? Leather armor a pain to remove?”

“It chafes. But I was also taking inventory. Behold.” Tohro presents a block of soap that was tucked behind his ear and tosses it at Caro. It bounces off his forehead, and he nearly drops it in the water fumbling over it. Finally, he gets ahold of the soap and starts applying it to his chest.

“Coating myself in the fat of various animals for the sake of keeping myself free of dirt and grime. There has to be some sort of irony in that, don’t you think, Shae?” Caro looks expectantly to the young unicorn.

Shae is relaxing at the opposite end of the crater, with her clothes just behind her on dry ground. Her forelegs are held tight to her sides and her muzzle points downwards. She sighs instead of responding.

“Shae?” Caro asks again. He leans forward and has a closer look at her. The bridge between her eyes and muzzle is crinkled, and her lips are straining to remain shut. “Oh dear.”

Tohro laughs pathetically before nuzzling Caro. “Do what you must. If I think of anything clever to say, I’ll speak up.” He crawls into the water, and finds himself cooing at its warmth and enriching texture. “Even if it means abridging my enjoyment of… Oooh, that feels good.”

Stop teasing me, Caro thinks as he wades away from the playfully splashing Tohro and over to the sulking Shae. Even though he knows she can’t see him, he still tries to meet with her gaze out of habit. “If you want to be alone, let me know. I just have to pester you one more time.”

“Pestering acknowledged,” Shae mutters. “Don’t worry. I know you. There are just some things you can’t resist. Somepony being hurt, in need of saving…” She bites her lower lip. “And yet, somepony you know is finally put into something she can’t be saved from. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Caro rests against the edge of the pool, just the same as Shae. “Just like I can’t imagine what it’s like, being in such an inescapable condition.” He regrets the words the instant they pass his lips. “Oh, I…”

Shae’s bitten lip trembles and her nostrils flare up. For a long second, she straddles the line between composure and tears, only to grit her teeth, inhale, and turn towards Caro.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly.

Shae doesn’t seem to have heard him. "Caro, look up, and tell me what you see."

He does as he is told. He turns his head upwards to behold a miniscule break in the darkened sky. "I see clouds... It's raining off in the distance, and judging by the smell, it might be coming our way again. Pity. Here I thought we’d be free of rain for a little while, but if it can’t be helped..."

Shae continues. "Now look left, then right, for three seconds each. Tell me what you saw from memory."

Again, Caro follows Shae's instructions. He darts his head left and right, then faces forward. "I saw the path we came from on the left. On the right, I see you, a collection of bushes and trees, and a bird's nest." The birds chirp. “Well, you can probably hear them.”

"And I'm sure if you were to look down right now, you'd see water. I can only tell because, well," Shae looks down, “I’m sitting in it.”

"Yes, that's right." Caro nods. "What else can I do for you?"

"Sure." Shae looks in Caro's direction. Her glassy eyes are a haunting sight, so different from the wide, colorful, magenta eyes she once boasted. "I want you to look behind you without turning around. I want you to see through walls and solid stone. Look left and right and up and down at the same time, through every solid object in your path, without any selective focus, having every single little thing that could possibly be seen forced into your mind. Look through the stream of time and space itself."

"I... can't?" Caro states reluctantly.

Shae places her hooves on her cheek, brushing up to her eyes. "I did, Caro. But I couldn’t take it. I did something only a Divine is able to do. That is why you're walking with all four legs. That’s why I’m blind. I broke the laws of existence.”

Caro reaches out to touch Shae, but she shoves his hoof away the moment he grazes her shoulder.

“This is what I deserve, isn’t it? So I upset the Divines? Fine, then. So I won’t be able to see the grass, or the trees, or the sky. I won’t see you or Tohro work your wonders, saving the innocent, slaying dragons and all. I won't be able to see Rosemary's rough, coarse coat or lock my gaze with hers, I... I won't be able to look at Celina and Luna again!" Shae’s whole body begins to tremble, causing the water around her to ripple. Her eyes are wide, glassy, clouded domes. "What if I can't be their mother anymore?! What if I forget what they look like?! I don't want to forget! I..."

Shae finds herself silenced as Caro throws his forelegs around her and smothers her muzzle against his wither. Her muffled cries of anguish turn into sobs as she loses all tension in her body, melting into the water, and against Caro.

“Clearly you didn’t let it all out when you lost your vision,” Caro asserted. “We’re not moving onward until you do.”

Shae shakes her head maddeningly quick. “I only now realized…” She returns to the security of Caro’s embrace. “I just…”

Caro places his hooves on either side of Shae’s upper forelegs and holds her firmly. "Shae. I was in Neigh Hrothgar for two months, in the company of only two beings that could speak my native language. It was dark and cold, the trials I endured were mentally and physically exhausting, and worst of all, I had to be away from you and Tohro. Hell, I would have taken Rosemary. But do you think I forgot what anypony I knew looked like?"

Shae’s misery hasn’t waned. "That was only two months, Caro... This is forever."

"There’s a silver lining. You have what some blind ponies will never have. You have several years of sight behind you, and I know Wintercolt Academy’s brightest student can remember.” Caro tries to think of what Shae would find to be the most beautiful thing that could ever exist. “Tell me, what do Celina and Luna look like?”

“They—” Shae answers too quickly.

“Hold on. Describe them in your words,” Caro interrupts, reaffirming his grip on Shae. “Don’t be objective. How do you remember them?”

“I, uh…” Shae taps her hooves together, then rolls them over each other as she shies away. “Well, I remember Celina’s white coat… Hm, white isn’t the right word for her. She’s brighter than white, especially when she walks in the sun’s graces.”

“I believe the word is ‘alabaster,’” Tohro says as he takes a casual sip from his flask. “Mmm, stolen hot spring mead does taste better!”

“I’m sure it does,” Caro says, cracking a smile. “What else about Celina?”

Shae is a little more vibrant now. She wipes her wet hair away from her face and continues. “Um… Her pink mane. It’s not a blinding pink like an aristocrat’s garments, more of the rich, natural pink you’d see during a cloudy sunset. We had one of those while you were unconscious.”

“Mm. Wish I could have witnessed it. Go on.”

“And when Celina is at her happiest, like the night we first met, her mane changes. Sometimes I see additional colors in it. It becomes brighter, almost difficult to look at. But it’s not like an Elder Scroll where you want to look away. It’s like when somepony gives you a gift you didn’t know you wanted, and have no words to say how grateful you are. You’re just… awestruck.” Shae wipes one of her eyes. “...I’d like to talk about Luna.”

“Do whatever you want to do,” Caro states.

“Well, uh… There’s this one unapparent thing about her I noticed recently. Her hooves are big. Bigger than most filly hooves, anyway. It was so adorable, back when I first had her, whenever I called on her she’d come running, fumbling over herself and tumbling to a stop right in front of me. She’d sniffle a little bit from the fall but she’d perk right back up in an instant. She’s such a happy child… Her smile is as bright as the moon itself, aside from the little slit between her two front teeth. That should heal in time, though.”

“Klutzy and adorable in equal amounts, huh?” Tohro asks. “Reminds me of somepony else I know.”

Caro smiles back and Tohro, then turns back to Shae. “Do you feel better?”

“...A little, yes.” Shae nods slowly, sitting upright before standing up in the water. “Having a little mist in your head can make you see a little clearer. I mean, metaphorically…”

Tohro sets his flask down and wades over to Shae and Tohro. He pats her on the forehead before pulling her into a partial embrace. “Everything will be fine, Shae. You’ll see. You can be an amazing mother with or without your eyes.”

Caro takes Shae’s hooves in his. “And this completely absolves you of any future endeavors alongside Dragonrein. From now on, you need not choose between us and your daughters. In truth, I feel guilty that there ever was a choice in the first place.”

“Mm… I should have stayed with them…” Shae feels herself beginning to tear up again. “I could have avoided all of this.”

“Do I need to tell you it’s not your fault?” Caro asks. “That it was extenuating circumstances that lead to this, and you don’t need to blame yourself for any of it?”

Shae, for what seems like one of a hundred times, lets her tears fall and mix with the steaming water of the spring. Despite this, she appears hardened and determined. “No. I won’t absolve myself of responsibility. I chose to come along with you to Ghastly Gorge. I chose to use that Elder Scroll.” Shae turns and steps out of the water. She shakes some of the wetness out of her mane and tail, then retrieves her towel.

“You didn’t choose to lose your sight,” Caro calls out to her as she walks away.

“That doesn’t bring it back to her,” Tohro says. He leans his cheek against his shoulder as he speaks thoughtfully. “Consider this, love: You didn’t choose to be the Dragonborn.”

Caro looks at Tohro. His hooves cross over his chest as his eyes flash gold. “I appreciate the sentiment, but what I have isn’t exactly a curse. I have suffered for it, but being a Dragonborn isn’t suffering in itself.”

“It could have been, but you made it not so. Shae’s blindness may be a bit larger of a ravine to cross, but perhaps she too can achieve some form of higher power. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Caro snorts. “You drank too much.” He wades over to Tohro’s flask and takes a swig. He swishes the strong yet rich flavor of this particular brew before letting himself swallow it. He feels more relaxed in an instant. “But no matter what she gains, she still loses something.” He’s about to take another drink before he feels smooth hooves brush over his shoulders.

“Reverse that last thing you said, love,” Tohro whispers. “What would I have gained if I had stayed with Shokenda?”

Caro still feels more than just Tohro’s weight on his shoulders, which holds him back from returning the affection. “You’d be less one fool.”

Tohro clicks his tongue. “I’d be less my fool, and that’s just not acceptable.”

Tohro’s ear knocks against Caro’s eyelid, causing his vision to flutter. He gives into the temptation, leaning back to nuzzle Tohro’s forehead.

“Kiss me, you idiot,” Tohro demands.

Caro comes to understand what’s happening the second he presses his lips to Tohro’s muzzle. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s able to witness Shae sitting atop a mossy rock, her eyes closed as she faces the wind. Even if were able to shrug off the pegasus hopelessly attached to him, he can’t say anything to help Shae that hadn’t been said before.

“Maybe…” he mutters as he breaks his lips away from Tohro. “...We should just let time heal the wound?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Tohro’s hoof brushes down Caro’s cheek, leading to a tender stroke of his chin. “She’s strong. Let’s be strong for her?”

Caro turns and leans against the edge of the hot spring. He allows Tohro to lean on his shoulder, and wraps his foreleg around him to tighten their bond. Despite his heart filling up with warmth that is still wonderfully unfamiliar to him, he still can’t shake off the cold unease he feels when he looks upon Shae. She seems so distant, like half of her has disappeared.

“It hurts,” Caro confesses.

“I know.”

~Rosemary~

A baroness upbringing can make a mare less than willing to deal with the elements. I’ve always had a roof over my head, with nary a leaking roof panel or a broken window, at least as far back as I can remember. I never needed to worry about losing that roof over my head. I was always safe, secure, and bored.

I much prefer this. The sounds of rain battering my tent, the taste of bitter coffee rampant in my mouth, the obvious seams in my makeshift bed… This is the adventure I always spoke of.

So why do I feel so melancholy? It’s not the rain; I love rain. I’ve been watching it fall for the past hour, that’s how lovely it is. And while I am a little lonely, I’ve long come to terms with not being able to take Shae and her merry stallions with me to Fillydelphia. I do miss them, especially Shae, but I know that’s not the source of this looming dread.

“Perhaps you should go back. Ask for their help,” suggests Cinnamon.

I turn over on my bed and face my little brother. His head is tilted, making his eyes look more lopsided than usual. His pinto coat always caused his face to appear on the awkward side. Poor him, he’ll be adorable all his life. It’s a shame he can be so obnoxious sometimes.

“Come now, why should I bother them?” I reply. “They have dragons to slay and a war to fight. This is my mission. It’s not their problem.”

“Fairly weak reason to charge into Fillydelphia like a mad mare, if you ask me,” Cinnamon says. “Aren’t you scared?” It’s so unlike him to be this pressing. He’s the obedient one. It’s normally Nutmeg who asks too many questions.

“Why would I be?”

Cinnamon reappears in front of me. “Your last lone encounter with the Blackwings didn’t pan out so well, did it?” he asks insistently.

I purse my lips and swallow my breath. For a brief second, I feel like vomiting, but the urge goes as quickly as it comes. “They weren’t nothin’. They got us by surprise. This time, I’ll be the one takin’ charge.”

The tent flap is pulled aside by a cream colored hoof. Nutmeg peeks her head into the tent. For some reason, despite coming out of the rain, her coat is completely dry. “It’s easy enough to kill three Blackwings in your own territory when you’ve got a spark of rage and adrenaline coursing through your body,” she says.

“You’re sayin’ a lot of big words,” I reply in a passive tone. “Besides, I defeated them because I’m strong. I’m a soldier, ain’t I?”

Nutmeg glares at me. “You cried. You cried while you killed them.”

“I’m a good soldier,” I repeat.

Nutmeg looks like she’s about to say something, but she holds her tongue as she steps over to Cinnamon. She kneels down and whispers something in his ear, which he nods in response to. “Mmm,” he replies.

“What? What are you on about?” I ask them.

“You’re not ready to hear it yet,” Nutmeg says, her eyes closed and her lips mockingly puckered. “Unless you can figure it out for yourself, that is.”

There are a few things I can’t stand, and being in the dark is one of them. I stand up and advance on my little siblings. “Figure out what? Tell me.” I angrily demand.

“How could we tell you?” they say at the same time. “You’re obviously unwilling to face it. If we did say something, it’d probably just fall on deaf ears.”

I point at Nutmeg and Cinnamon. “You’re grounded. Both of you.”

“You can’t tell us what to do,” Nutmeg says. “You’re not our mother.”

“Don’t feel bad, though,” Cinnamon says. “It’s not as though she really expected you to take care of us. She never trusted you to begin with.”

Nutmeg stands up. “How can you trust somepony you hate?” She starts walking back to the tent flap.

“You get back here,” I order her. “Now.”

“I’m already gone, sister,” she says in a serene voice before disappearing out of the tent.

I turn my head to look at Cinnamon, only to see that he’s disappeared as well. Where could he have gone in such a hurry? And under my watch, no less?

“Yoohoo!” he chimes. I see him by the tent flap, waving at me with an obnoxious grin. “Mother dearest will be quite disappointed if she comes back home and we’re not back where we belong!”

I’m not having any of this. I walk right up to him and raise my hoof. “Cinnamon, I’m warnin’ you!” I swipe at him and try to grab his collar, but in a blink, he disappears.

I hear him and Nutmeg laughing, but it’s not innocent, childlike laughter. It’s not malevolent either. It’s just… wrong. My skin is crawling at the sound. “Ooh, not to mention, if we’re gone, our new daddy won’t be able to meet us! Poor Wolf River!” they cackle.

“Stop laughin’!” I shout. I slam my hoof into my bed and gallop to the tent flap.

I hear them laughing again, which causes me to stop in place, regardless of any will I had to run outside after them. “But by all means, keep up this pointless mission! Go on your adventure, big sister! You have a lot of elders to disappoint! A lot of impossible tasks to complete! So many Blackwings just waiting to do Divines know what to you!”

I can still taste it… No. I won’t go back there.

“G-Get back here and face your punishment! Like real soldiers!” I pull the tent flap open and leap outside, landing on the moist grass of the Equestrian outskirts. I feel drops of rain splash onto my muzzle. They’ve gotten heavier since yesterday. I scan over the grass, as well as the rock formations around me, but I can’t see my siblings anywhere. “Nutmeg! Cinnamon!” I shout hoarsely. “Come baaaack!”

I look towards the sky. I can’t see it all that clearly, as my vision is starting to blur, but it’s a hauntingly beautiful sight. In the distance, I can see hellishly dark clouds building over the mountain range. Fillydelphia is over there, somewhere, buried in snow. Above it, there’s an intense sunset, which brings to mind something Shae said to me, back when Princess Celina wasn’t feeling so well.

It was a rainy day like this one, and we had a little talk over my homemade crepes under a tavern awning. Shae turned and said to me, “Every once in a while I hear ponies talking about this abstract name for the time we live in…”

“The twilight age, was it?” I asked.

She nodded slowly. She was worlds away at the time. Her heart was clearly more with her Celina than me. “Mostly I hear it in jest, after a minor inconvenience. A sage stubbing his toe, for instance, and he would say ‘Such is the way of the twilight age.’ And I began to wonder, what does it really mean?”

“Twilight is a beautiful thing. Maybe they’re just holding on to one last shred of beauty before the end.” I took a nervous bite of my crepe. “I mean, Divines forbid that, but you know how obsessed with death Equestria is these days.”

Shae looked at me with a spark in her eyes. “But what if we weren’t so nihilistic? Wouldn’t the twilight age be something worth celebrating? Or, at least, treated like...” Her breath faltered slightly. “After my parents died, I froze up, emotionally. For so long I felt alone, even when I wasn’t. And when Sundance threw me that impromptu party, just to make me happy, I felt a sense of… contentment. Like I could let myself grieve while still taking part in the world around me.”

“So, what, the twilight age is a wake to you?” I asked, completely puzzled but also intrigued.

“Well, yes, but with more dragons. Not to mention an immortal child of the sun falling from the sky. I feel that so many things are going to change, and maybe it’s for the best to let it happen. The very reason this war happened was because Queen Platinum unsuccessfully tried to preserve King Hurricane’s rule. The dragons want this land because they once held it themselves. It’s just so pitiful to me… Why do we have to hold onto what we know is lost?”

It’s not all lost… The world can disappear for all I care, but not before I save Nutmeg and Cinnamon from the Blackwings. I won’t let all of my efforts go to waste. I’ll save them, take them home, and Tangerine won’t suspect a thing. Not as though she’ll return to the villa in a hurry while she’s marrying the first stallion she laid eyes on…

I push that thought away and turn back around. Nutmeg and Cinnamon are there again, but I feel none of the malice that was there before.

“You’ll find us,” Cinnamon says.

“You’re a good soldier,” Nutmeg adds. “You can do it.”

“You can’t do it,” an unfamiliar voice says from above me.

I look up. Standing atop a stone perch is a hooded figure with a split cape. It flows in the wind, unimpeded by the rain. It must be a powerful fabric if even rain can’t keep it down. I get into a defensive stance as the figure leaps from their perch and lands right in front of me. They’re so graceful that they don’t even disturb the pebbles in the grass. Upon a better look at this armored pony, I can see a pair of armored wings and a distinctly feminine figure. I believe I’m looking at a mare.

“I know where you’re going, and what you want to do,” she says. I can’t quite see her face, as she’s wearing a mask beneath the hood. Only her eyes are visible through small slits. “It’s impossible. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”

I breathe heavily, already irked by this mare’s attitude. “Oh, that’s kind. And who the hell are you to decide that?”

“Somepony who knows a practical approach, and also somepony who was once also consumed with illogical fantasies. Trust me, Rosemary Von Spice, your mission is doomed, unless you take the rest of Dragonrein with you.”

It’s as if my doubts have taken a physical form. If my mind were feeling particularly cruel, I wouldn’t be surprised if the mare under the hood is my mum. “It isn’t any of their business!” I snap. “Why should they get involved when it’s my problem?”

The masked mare’s laughter sounds metallic and hollow. “Your problem? I’m fairly certain you’re not the only one who has lost family to Temerity Blackwing’s schemes.” She reaches beneath her cape and pulls out several envelopes. “You’re also not the only one investigating these matters. The Thieves Guild took notice of homeless children disappearing off the streets of Baltimare and nearby villages, and promptly searched for a source. Letters to Temerity. Bounties for locating missing little ones. Intercepted kidnappings.”

“Tohro and a few Blackwing turncoats were also looking into it… But so what? I’ve gotten strong enough travelin’ with Dragonrein to do this myself.”

“Strong enough to take on an entire faction of Blackwings in their home territory?” The mare points in the direction of Phillydelphia. “With Shokenda B-Blackwing breathing down your neck?”

I could have sworn I heard her stutter.

“If somepony has a good reason to not get involved, it’s me,” she says. “I happen to be part of a prestigious organization. We are elites among elites, and we only step out of the shadows when we are needed. Unfortunately, my master has determined that we can’t let the Blackwings form a vendetta against us, so despite knowing children across Equestria are being kidnapped by Temerity Blackwing, we can’t do a damn thing about it. We’re too fragile.”

Bewildered, I shake my head and advance on the mare. “So what? You want me to look for an excuse to not get involved and just leave my siblings to… whatever the Blackwings are doin’ to them?”

“No,” says the mare. “I want you to stop making excuses and go to Dragonrein for help. I’ve followed you for a while now, since you’ve been the only able-bodied member of Dragonrein until recently, and I’ve heard you talk to yourself for hours on end.”

I was talking aloud that whole time? No wonder my throat is so sore.

Her tone turns more gentle as she continues. “Responsibility doesn’t absolve you of stupidity, Rosemary. Besides, I have a feeling that this is more about fear.”

I feel a pounding in my ears. “H-How would you know that?”

“I know about your mother, Lady Tangerine. I’ve heard you mention her a few times as well. I get that you fear her finding out about all of this. It can be hard to admit when we fail, but you’re just going to have to accept that you did, and make amends. Between that and pretending that you never failed in the first place, it’s the better option.”

She does speak the truth, but the truth makes my head twinge a bit. I press my hoof to my forehead as the pain escalates.

“Hello? Are you well?” the mare asks. Her voice is muted against the pounding in my ears. “Rosemary?”

“I can’t…” I don’t know what I was going to say to the mare. Don’t rightfully know if I’m even talking to her. I can see other figures out of the corners of my vision, but whenever I turn to face them, they’re gone. For a moment there, I could have sworn I saw Mum…

“Do you have any idea how valuable this vase is?” I remember her yelling scornfully. I can still remember the embarrassment of her voice bearing down on me, and the sting of my black eye. And yet, despite the fact that her own flesh and blood was crying and in pain, all she could focus on was that fucking vase. “Even if you broke this, a single shard would be more valuable than your father’s swords. No more roughhousing.”

Not to me, it wasn’t… I barely even touched the thing. And yet, it was always about what was most important to her. What she wanted.

And who she wanted me to marry. “Your father and I put a lot of work into arranging this marriage. Compared to Baron’s family, we’re practically peasantry. Imagine how much our warrior legacy will grow when it becomes one with his?”

“I’m sure you can extract his honor from his blood and cut it with a knife,” I muttered under my breath.

“Would you stop that? I never asked for your thoughts on the matter.”

“Rosemary?”

“It’s not a matter of love, it’s a matter of family. We need to keep our legacy afloat, and if you can’t find happiness in that, then you’d best learn how to.”

“Rosemary, stay with me.” The mare taps my cheek gently.

I wave her hoof away and remember that I’m not a child. But I’ve definitely been acting like one. I’m miles away from home, alone, trying to face down the wrath of an entire army just to save two kids. It doesn’t matter if those kids are my siblings. All the willpower, weapons and armor in the world wouldn’t be enough to get me through this battle alive.

“I suppose…” I wipe a few raindrops and beads of sweat off of my face. “I might have been a little… presumptuous.”

“I want you to say this with me,” the mare states. “Say, ‘I cannot do this alone.’”

“I cannot do this alone.” It hurt to say, but in the way of removing bandages; painful, yet necessary, and a relief in the end. “I’m… I’m still scared. I don’t want my mum to…”

“Nopony says she has to know. At least, not right now. Trust me, Rosemary. I know what it is to feel isolated among a crowd. Just know that you never suffer alone, and you shouldn’t be afraid of reaching out for help. Instead, fear what will happen if you try to suffer alone.”

I see splashes of blood on a metal door, and hear the sounds of two little breaths leaving the distorted bodies of two children. I struggle to move towards them as the swords and axes of a dozen soldiers come down on me...

Suddenly the rain feels hot. My heart's on fire. I immediately leap into a frenzy, stepping past the masked mare and walking to my tent. I enter, roll up my blankets, stuff them into my bag of holding, then look around for my weapons pouch. It’s not where I left it…

“Here you are,” the mare says, walking into the tent with the bag swinging around her hoof. “Ever wonder what would happen if you turned a bag of holding inside out?”

I take the bag from her and flash a smile. “The contents would spill out and it’d look like just a normal bag, at least until you turned it back inward. The enchantment only works if it has a space to fill, like a cup. At least, that’s what Shae told me.” The thought of her makes my heart steady a bit. “Shae…” I pick up my coat, attach my bags to it, and throw it on. “Never should have left her. She was sufferin’ under my nose. What good am I so far away from her?”

The masked mare chuckles. “Well, surely you’re in her thoughts. Let’s just hope they’re good ones.”

I stumble a bit as I get adjusted to the weight of my bags. “Uh, Miss…” I can’t think of anything to call this mare. “Miss, do you think… I’m not a good pony?”

The mare sighs. She seems to want to give a blunt answer, but she’s pondering the right thing to say. She approaches me and places her hoof on my shoulder. “You just… need to try harder. Does that sound fair?”

I take a deep breath as I let her answer sink in. There are things you want to hear, and things that you need to hear. Not entirely sure where this one lands. “I’ll take it.” I step outside of the tent, go to one of its corners, and begin taking it down. “Thanks, Miss. I don’t know who you are, really, but you can certainly sway a pony’s mind.”

The mare flies to the top of the tent and undoes one of the ropes. “I’m just glad I caught you before it was too late. I too have a mission, you see.”

“Is it of the secret sort? I wouldn’t mind hearing about it.”

The mare taps the chin area of her mask. “Actually, it seems I’ve already half completed it. Would you be so kind as to take this?” She presents another bag of holding to me, this one made with black fabric and a gold trimming. “Keep that close to you and don’t lose it. Oh, and tell Caro and Tohro that the Nightingales send their regards.”

The moment she says that, I drop the bag. It hits the ground with a metallic clattering. The hilts of two swords slide out of it, one black with a full spectrum of gems, the other long, decorated with fire rubies and a diamond pattern.

“No…” I take both hilts in my hooves and pull them out carefully. One platinum sword, bright as the sun, and one black katana, darker than the blackest night. Excalibur and Muramasa.

I look to ask the mare one of my many questions, but she’s already gone.

I look at the swords again, just to make sure they aren’t another hallucination. Much to my weakened heart’s relief, they’re real. Somehow, beyond all possibilities, they’re real. I touch the hilt of Excalibur and quickly pull away. I know I’m not worthy. And if the rumors about Muramasa are true, I don’t even want to even brush up against it, lest I end up consumed by bloodlust. If Caro used to be so nasty, then just imagine…

Keeping my foreleg away from Muramasa, I reach my hoof into the bag for more surprises. There aren’t any other weapons, for better or for worse, but I do find a scrap of parchment. Quite literally just a scrap; not a bit of writing on it.

No, it can’t just be nothing. Not when it’s so close to such treasures. “Show me your secrets,” I say to it. It doesn’t change. “I’m not a Nightingale, but maybe you can help me, a lone mare with a lot of amends to make? Come now?”

The scrap reacts to that. Either it takes pity on me, or it heard the word Nightingale. Letters begin to show in silver ink.

Speak the name.

“What name?” I ask. No response. I decide to speak the first name that comes to my mind. “Shae Sparkle?”

After a few seconds, the letters change to spell out Shae Sparkle. More ink appears around the name to form what looks like a pathway, along with some foothills and several trees. I quickly realize that I’m looking a map, and even greater than that, I’m seeing exactly where Shae is.

Her name appears among inscriptions spelling out Caro of Riverhoof and Tohro Blackwing. She walks between them, for some odd reason. I figured Caro and Tohro would walk side by side. The ink shifts as they approach a long bridge.

According to this map, the name of this area is Chitin Cross. I know where it is, and it’s actually not that far from here. If I hop a carriage to Everfree, I can intercept Dragonrein in a day, maybe two.

I hold the map to my chest and let out a long sigh. I smile and blink a few errant tears out of my eyes. “Why do I ever leave you? I swear, Shae, if you help me save Nutmeg and Cinnamon, I’ll marry you the moment we set hoof out of…”

My eyes widen as I notice something new in the corner of the map. It’s a moving red dot. No, wait, two dots… three… six… All of them closing in on Shae, Caro and Tohro.

I… I should go.