~Caro~

“Wake up.”

My eyes open wide, granting me a close view of moldy, wooden panels. I remember exactly where I was before I was knocked unconscious. A lantern going out, a beautiful pegasus listening to my every word, an insect in his place, with the audacity to imitate his voice, blue, soul-piercing eyes everywhere I looked, and… now I’m here, being scratched by wood splinters.

I roll onto my front and stand up. It’s either adrenaline, or I wasn’t completely out, but it’s far easier for me to move than I expected. I’m completely lucid. Aside from a splitting headache and a pounding heart, I’m fine.

At least, I would be if there was a certain pegasus to greet me where I woke. Less importantly, I don’t know where I am. Judging by the shoddy wooden planks, shambled dresser and shelves, water-stained walls and the seams in the ceiling, as well as the distinct scent of mildew, I can guess I’m in an old cabin.

From one dark place to another… At least there’s some sign of sunlight. Still, how did I get here?

“Caro. Up here,” a deep, silky voice says to me. It’s not Tohro.

Up on the dresser, I see the source of the voice. I mistake it for a tall equine mare at first, but a few outlying features come into the light. Her wings and legs are filled with holes, not unlike the monsters I saw earlier. A chitin exoskeleton, a long, green, flat blanket of a mane, and sharp teeth that gleam from the rays of light poking through the ceiling.

I tilt my head and grunt. Whatever this thing is, I wouldn’t put it on my list of the scariest beasts I’ve faced. It’s just an insect. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?” I ask snidely.

The insect mare-thing chuckles. “Chrysalis.”

“And you will address me as ‘Your Highness’, or ‘Your Majesty.’”

I smirk at her request. “And I want to be back in Everfree with Tohro and a hot cup of cocoa. We’re both not getting what we want.”

Apparently, we’re both amused. The insect called Chrysalis laughs and jumps down from the dresser. She’s a lot bigger than I expected, at least two heads taller than me. “Just as inept as my children claimed you to be,” she says. “You have a problem with authority, Caro of Riverhoof. Delusions of grandeur. Hatred for the established way of the world. And apparently…” She leans in close and has herself a gander into my eyes. “You have quite the temper.”

I lean my head forward, forcing her to back away. “Are you surprised that I’m angry?”

“If there’s one thing I understand above all else, it’s emotion. No, I am not surprised. What surprises me is that you have such a backbone when, I should have mentioned, this Tohro you’re so fond of will die if you act out of line. You’d best behave yourself.”

I feel a crawl up my spine. As if I didn’t have enough reasons to hate Chrysalis on first sight, now she has to put my loved one on the line. That said, she did give me a reason to not rip her jugular out. She might not be as stupid as I thought.

“Given his condition when my children found him, I dare say I did him a favor.”

Stupid, or brave.

“Neither of us are pure, Chrysalis,” I say. “Stop pretending as though you have anything good to offer me in place of my Tohro. I want him back.” I make an enraged snort. “No doubt you’re using him as leverage.”

“Right to the point, are we? Isn’t that a breath of fresh air. But I should explain exactly why we took your precious one away from you.” Chrysalis places her hoof against her chest. “We changelings care little for equine sustenance. It does nothing for our bodies. We survive on raw emotion. Anger. Hatred. Dread. Fear. Joy. Lust…”

“Is that so? How do I taste, then?”

Chrysalis leans in again, her cold breath far too close to my face for comfort. “A bit hard to swallow, but otherwise quite decadent. Well-aged too. You hold tight to your feelings, yet you express them so openly. You’re a reservoir of emotions, mouth gushing anger, mind filled with dread. I can feel it all, Caro. You’ve supplied me and my children with ample sustenance for some time now.”

“Equestria is a very angry and fearful place right now. Who says I’m solely responsible for putting dinner on your plates?” I ask. I advance on Chrysalis, brushing a cloud of dust onto her legs.

“There’s something special about you, Caro. I’d expect you to believe the monster who can read your every emotion.” Chrysalis nonchalantly brushes the dust off. “See, we changelings go by another name. Do the words Sisterhood of Shadows mean anything to you?”

I remember well. Tohro spoke of them fearfully in the past.

Chrysalis smiles. “And surely you received my letter?”

We know.

“Oh, shit,” I exclaim. The room seems to go dark around us.

An acid green flame appears between me and Chrysalis. “The Sisterhood is responsible for the deaths of hundreds who, at one time or another, did wrong to a certain someone; someone who would reach out with all their hatred, and recite unto me these words.”

The flame grows every time it hisses out a syllable of a haunting incantation. “Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.”

The flame bursts outward, taking the form of three ponies. One is speaking to another, though I can’t hear them. They then nod, and approach the third pony. They take out a dagger, raise it up high, and bring it down on the third pony. At that moment, the flames disperse.

“And how does contract killing benefit you?” I ask, my hair standing on end.

Chrysalis turns her head to her left. “Hatred from the one who wishes death upon another.” She then tilts to the right. “Fear from the contract in their moment of death. There’s nothing quite like it. My children take on the forms of female assassins, fulfill whatever contracts that fall to us, and we devour the emotions that emerge from such a violent situation.”

I turn away and face the floor. “Dragos’ wings…”

Chrysalis still talks, ignorant of my disgust. For all I know, she could be consuming it right now. “Doing all of this under the name Sisterhood of Shadows helps secure us a reputation. And since my children can take on an infinite number of forms, we operate in complete secrecy.”

“No way to trace an organization that kills on command…” I put on a grin. Despite everything I’ve heard making me ill in the head, I’m morbidly curious. I also realize that the more I know, the greater chance I have of getting my angel back from this so-called queen. “You’ve turned Equestria into a basin of fear…”

“To be fair, it was like that when we rose from underground.” Chrysalis giggles. “Should have seen the face of that living skeleton when I crawled out of my hole in the wall.” She gasps, like she just had an epiphany. “Oh! You can!”

Just like with the changeling in the cave, a green flame washes over the insect in front of me, and in an instant, I’m looking at another pony. One with an ancient robe and a decaying body.

I take on a sarcastic tone. “Hello, Otar. You know that insane hole-dwelling moth-eaten queen with a god complex? Maybe you should fill her hole with sap so she can’t get out.”

Otar disappears, and Chrysalis unfortunately returns. “If only I had sunken my teeth a bit deeper into him, maybe he wouldn’t have grown a backbone and…” She waves her hoof, as if shaking away a few bad memories. “That’s irrelevant. What’s most important here, is you.”

I figured as much. I can’t become Equestria’s hero without a few more enemies taking interest in me, or my loved ones.

Chrysalis gestures behind me, to the other end of the cabin. “Oh, and them.”

“Huh?” I turn around quickly, and only now do I take notice of something I can’t believe I never noticed in the first place. Call it deliriousness from being knocked out or distraction at the sight of a large hole-littered insect, I’m caught completely off guard by the sight of two ponies and a gryphon, appendages bound and forced onto their haunches by three changelings; one for each prisoner.

The gryphon is on the left, an older greying mare in the center, and an average seeming purple stallion on the right. At least I can save somepony from Chrysalis today. “More hostages?” I ask gruffly. “You already took what’s most important to me. Why do you have to put other innocents in the way?”

“You took a contract from us, Caro,” says Chrysalis. “Somepony you murdered was supposed to be ours.”

I feel ice in my blood. It’s like getting a cold stare from Tohro. I haven’t been subjected to that torture in some time, and I didn’t miss it. “Who was it I took from you?” I ask, looking back at Chrysalis.

She digs her hoof into my hair and turns it back towards the hostages, making me snarl in discomfort. “That’s not important. What is important is that you interfered with what matters to us most. You denied us food. So, you must make amends for your mistake.”

“In what way?” I ask, wanting to deny the inevitable answer.

Chrysalis’ horn shines the same sickly green color I’ve come to associate her with. She levitates the dresser open, taking out a simple steel dagger. She sets it on the floor in front of me. “Guess.”

I stare at the dagger. It’s a generic iron blade with a wooden hilt. I used to make these by the dozen. In the blade I see both my reflection and Chrysalis’. After staring for a long few seconds, Chrysalis hums with impatience. She makes me shiver, the way her voice crawls through the air and into my ears. As if that weren’t enough, she decides to make a greater mockery of me by shifting into Tohro. I turn away after a mere second of looking, shutting my eyes.

“If you want to save my life, you will fulfill her wishes. It’s not all that complicated,” she says in Tohro’s voice.

“Well, you say that…” I still refuse to look. “Don’t try to appeal to the beast. Tohro helped me shut it out long ago.”

“Did you now? Or have you simply avoided the need for it?”

I reflect on my refusal to kill Sacred Rite, despite her request for me to do so. I didn’t kill her because I feared relishing it. I remember infiltrating Chain Link’s disgusting slave camp, ignoring my body’s every demand to spill slaver blood on the grass.

“I’ve had plenty of opportunities to play executioner in recent times, but I haven’t,” I say, my voice calm and reserved. Speaking defensively would only give her a means to berate me further. “I’ve only killed out of necessity. Not much you can do when a raging Blackwing is charging at you with bloodshot eyes and a raised axe. Don’t tell me I’m cruel for winning in a life or death scenario.”

“You can imagine yourself that way all you want, Caro. All I think of when I see you is a mighty stallion of draconic descent standing over mangled bodies. One of those bodies should have been ours. So, take the dagger, and make amends.”

“But why are they here? Who wants them dead? And who are you to command death?”

Chrysalis grunts with impatience as she changes back to her regular form. I know now that it’s safe to open my eyes. “That never mattered to me or my children,” she says. “A contract was made, so blood must be spilt. Take the dagger, and make amends.”

Reluctantly, carefully, I take the dagger in my hoof. I expect something to happen to me as I lift it up, but I feel nothing. It’s merely a dagger, and before me are mere mortals, held still by insects who would do nothing to obstruct me from taking their lives.

“Determine which one we have been contracted to kill, and carry out the deed,” Chrysalis says coldly. “Simplicity in itself.”

“Okay,” I mutter.

There’s still no voice telling me to stop. No white hoof to seize me by the hind legs and drag me away from this waking nightmare. I always assumed that, if I ever caught myself in this sort of situation, Tohro would always be there to save me from myself. But there’s nothing stopping me. A few steps, and a decisive thrust… I can enjoy the sight of blood on my blade once again.

But there’s something missing. There’s no… catharsis. No reason. I don’t have anything against these captives. Why would I want them dead? For all I know, they could have done awful things in their past, but… look at them now. They’re weak. Defenseless. They don’t know where they are. They don’t know that they’re facing recompense for something they did in the past. How is that fair? Those I killed in the past… Ember, Pyro, Preacher, Sunflower… They knew why they had to… why I decided to kill them, right?

“No need to rush yourself,” Chrysalis comments. “You understand your role here, so be as decisive as you need to be.”

In that case, I might as well gain a better understanding to why these captives are here. Blood might be spilt here; if any of them are in my kill list’s league, then I might have to make a difficult decision, if only to keep me and my loved one safe.

I set the dagger down and approach them. The changelings standing watch all keep their eyes on me. “Relax,” I say, both to the captives and the changelings.

I first speak to the purple stallion. “Hello. My name is Caro.”

“Huh?” he raises his head. His panicked, shaking voice is muffled by the bag. “Y-yes, I know. Dragonborn... I heard you and that… thing talking. I don’t know what she is, so I can’t help you there… I-I’m Two-Bit. I don’t know why I’m here. I’m not a bad pony.”

“I want to believe you, Two-Bit. Sincerely. I don’t want anypony to die here.” But can I avoid that? “I want to know why somepony would want to hurt you. Have you done anything that might have made you an enemy?”

“N-no! I mean…” Two-Bit whimpers. “I didn’t… want to…” He goes quiet. I remain kneeling, waiting for him to fess up. I know what it is, to have a confession forced out.

I choose my words carefully. “Was it a mistake?”

“No! I mean, yes… See, I’m a cook… I work at an inn, up in Tempest. But, Tempest is very… remote. Not many visitors. Especially since everypony started having nightmares a while back. They stopped when Princess Luna first showed up, but who wants to visit a town who had something that mysterious happen to them? The inn started to suffer for it. We couldn’t pay to keep it intact.”

We’re getting somewhere. “So, what did you do?”

“Eventually, my emergency supply of bits ran out, and I had to resort to begging. While I was well-liked around town, and was able to get a little support, eventually my fortune ran out. My inn was already gone. I had nothing left…” His voice shudders once again. “It was in the middle of the night. This young lad, he was drunk and violent. He started shaking me up for what little I had. I had to defend myself…”

I nod. “I see.”

“No one trusts the beggar. I couldn’t justify what happened to the lad. All I could do was run… I was on the outskirts of Fillydelphia when I suddenly woke up here. Evidently, that lad had friends.”

It must have been family of the drunken lad he murdered who muttered the incantation and called the Sisterhood of Shadows to hunt this poor stallion down. It seems that they don’t take self defense into account. But I think I understand why he’s here. To everyone in Tempest, he’s just a murderer.

“I won’t kill you,” I say.

“Damn…” he curses. “Well, thanks for being a saint, Dragonborn.”

“Are you going to take all damn day?” the old mare asks. Her voice is wrinkled and obnoxious, despite being muffled by the bag. Why is it I can’t encounter any kind elderly ponies? It’s always the rude, craggly ones... “It’s down to me and the other one, so just pick already!”

“If the Dragonborn isn’t in a position to make demands, then neither are you. Please reevaluate yourself,” says the gryphon. “Also mind that your life is in his hooves.”

I imagine that, beneath the rotted bag, the old mare is sneering. “Waste whatever air you have left, feathercock. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Neither do I.” I step over to her, though I back off slightly at the scent of alcohol. “You seem stressed.”

“Think of a few good reasons why, numbnuts.”

I laugh at her attack. “I mean... beyond this. Where’s your fear?”

“Honey, when you’ve pushed five kids out of you and don’t know half their fathers, you really get a sense of perspective.” She laughs too. “Try to think, dipshit, of course I’m scared. I’m just not gonna beg and whimper for mercy. Did it once, wasn’t a fan.”

“And you’re worried you’re not going to walk out of here alive to see your kids again? I know a mother. She’s good to the fillies. Can’t think of a time they aren’t happy. I fear for the kids as much as I fear for her whenever she’s in danger… She could be in danger now.”

“Tell her to enjoy motherhood while the fun lasts, asshat. Congratulations, by the way.”

“They’re not my children, I’m…” I sigh. “Look, I’m not about to kill a mother. You’re a ray of sunshine compared to the last old caretaker I met.”

“Well, shit, I try to be. I love those little bastards, but it’s tough… I know they didn’t order the hit on me. They couldn’t have.”

“Then who would?”

The mare waits. “O-okay, I messed up once. My first three children, I knew their dad. He was a baron up in Scoltland, and he wasn’t… well. I don’t know what I saw in him, but after our third kid, he stopped treating them like a father should. No one hits my little rats like that. So, one night I got him drunk, took him to the cliffs outside the the mansion, and…”

“It was probably easy to pass it off as an accident,” I comment, imagining a stuck-up stallion falling from a great height while an elderly mare watches. It’s almost comical, but not as much as it would have been to me a few months ago.

"Technically, it was one." I can hear the satisfaction in her voice. "He was known for taking drunken walks before. The farthest he'd ever gotten was halfway down the mountainside. I just went back inside, told a curious maid that the Baron had gone walking once more, and..." She snorts with derision. "The drunk fool walked himself off the cliff, I didn't even have to push."

I can’t say I blame her. “If he was a baron, odds are he had supporters. Maybe they’re the reason why you’re here”

“A large family in the northwest. Rich bastard parents for the rich bastard. Wouldn’t put it above them to try and get rid of me. That’s karmic payback if ever there was any… Why do I get the feeling they were more upset at me squatting in his mansion with my kids over letting him die?”

“In any case, they clearly care more about their own reputation and wealth over basic decency.” I smile and lay my hoof on the old mare’s shoulder. “You’ll live. Even my former self wouldn’t wish a bruise on you. You’ll see your kids again soon.”

“Do I have to?” the mare asks with a chuckle. “You’re alright, numbnuts. My name’s Inkstain, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

All that remains is the gryphon. Out of the three, he seems to be the most stoic, judging by what he said earlier. I wonder if he’s remorseful? Or has he accepted what could happen to him?

“Hello, Dragonborn,” he says quietly as I approach. “Come to play pastor for a day? Because, to be entirely honest, I’m surprised I didn’t end up like this years ago. Hell, I’m surprised I’m the first in my family that the Sisterhood got ahold of. See, I come from a long line of criminals…”

“Not making a good case for yourself, are you?” I jest.

“I’m a crook, not a liar. I force wealthy families to pay protection money, or their property gets stolen. I raid tombs and sacred resting places. I rob graves for jewelry. The only possessions I deem sacred belong to me and my closest friends. In short, Dragonborn, my face is the most punchable in this room, and I say that knowing Chrysalis is here and listening.”

“Do you have a death wish?” I hear Chrysalis coo.

The gryphon leans to the side and says loudly, “Not until I met you, your holiness. You should know that I’ve killed plenty of your kind before, so don’t act so high and mighty.”

The changeling behind the gryphon grabs the him by the neck, pulling him back and baring its fangs.

“Stop!” I shout at it, making it look up in annoyance.

Chrysalis’ sickly green aura moves the changeling away from the gryphon. It chatters as it’s set down. “I know you’re angry, but Caro hasn’t made his decision yet, little one,” Chrysalis says. “Be still, and only act if any of them try to run.”

As the high tension lowers ever so slightly, I turn my attention back to the gryphon. His candidness makes me worry that he’s looking for any reason for me to pick him as the one who dies. “Please give me a reason to pardon you,” I plead.

“Why?” he asks tersely.

“Because…” I can’t believe I’m the one who has to explain this. I know what it was like for Tohro to confront that murdering bastard in the cellar. “Well, surely there has to be something good in you? Some regrets, maybe? Isn’t there anypony you love that would want to see you alive and well?”

“Of course,” he says, his stoic tone unchanged. “But does that allow me the right to live? The nice things in my life don’t grant me a free pass on the atrocities I’ve committed. I’ve killed people, Caro. Lots of people. And unlike them,” he nods to Inkstain and Two-Bit, “I wasn’t exactly down on my luck when I took their blood-covered gold coins.”

For a split second, I see Sunflower’s blood on my hooves. Or it could be Preacher’s. Either way, I also remember smiling.

“I’m already a demon,” the gryphon confesses. “And I knew I’d pay for my crimes eventually. Either in life or after, you eventually give recompense. I’m just giving mine now. So, if you’re expecting me to beg for mercy or forgiveness, I’m sorry. That’s not going to happen. Somepony has to die here today, and I know it’s not going to be the two ponies next to me.”

I know bravery. I also know those who have no regrets. I’ve never seen both at once, and I never expected to see it in the form of a bound and blinded prisoner. He has no remorse. He’ll accept this. I can save two ponies, and Tohro, and walk away with a clear conscience.

Then again, I have known those that have no remorse for the awful things they’ve done. More than that, I’ve killed them. Ponies and dragons both. But I know how the dragons feel now, long after their souls became mine. I’ll never see the soul of a pony. Pyro. Ember. Preacher. Sunflower. How did they feel in their moment of death? Did they feel regrets? Were they content in their failings? How many people want to see them alive and well? What family did they have? What were their dreams?

I took all that away without any thought towards another solution. I could have reported Pyro and Ember to Queen Platinum and let the law sort it out. I could have told Preacher off and let him continue blathering on about the will of Dragos… Who knows, maybe I could have learned to respect dragons sooner. And Sunflower… She wasn’t worth anypony’s time. I could have just ushered the kids out and scared her into submission.

And none of this means a damn thing. They’re all dead. I took all of their years of life and knowledge, everything they were and ever could be, and destroyed it.

I fucked up. Forever.

And now it’s time for me to pay the price.

“Do it, Caro,” the gryphon says. “Kill the demon.”

I pick up the dagger and hold it close to my heart. I’ve made my decision. “Okay.”

I throw the dagger at Chrysalis.

She gasps as she steps out of the way. The dagger is embedded in the wall behind her, and a sliver of her mane has fallen to the ground. She stares at me with absolute fury and detestment. “You fool. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

She sounds quiet. It must be all the blood pounding in my head. I don’t feel well. I don’t regret my decision, but I’m aware of the damage I’ve caused. I know what will happen to Tohro now. In one moment, I’ve lost the love of my life.

The changelings abandon their prisoners and leap at me. They all try to take a bite out of me on all sides. With barely a change in my still demeanor, I slam my forelegs into one’s neck. As it falls back, I plant my forelegs down and buck at the other two.

Why am I doing this? I keep asking myself that much. The answer is obvious. Because there is no clear conscience if I have to kill somepony in cold blood, especially at the behest of a monster.

The first changeling leaps back into the fray and lands on my back. It seizes my neck and tries to restrain me, but with a mighty whinny, I knock it off, grab it and throw it down in front of me. I bring my foreleg down on its leg, hard, and break the exoskeleton. Green fluid drains from its severed limb.

He won’t be the first. I’ll tear Chrysalis and the Sisterhood of Shadows apart, and save everypony that they would put to death. If Tohro knew what I’ve been faced with, and he were here right now, he’d tell me I made the right decision.

The other two changelings stand stock still, horrified and apparently in pain at what I just did to their ally.

Over the pounding in my ears, I hear the gryphon shouting. “They’re a hivemind! They can feel each other’s pain!”

Useful knowledge, but if I know pain as well as I think I do, now they’ll just share each other’s anger and get a second wind. I switch into a defensive stance as they both charge at me, faster than before. I block one with a strike on their jaw, and shove the other away with my barrel. The former pushes back, bares its fangs and bites down on my foreleg. Instead of pulling away, I ignore the pain and charge forward, pinning the changeling in the corner of the room. I rip my foreleg away from it, splattering my blood all over my body. I don’t care. I just keep smashing the changeling’s head against the wall until its exoskeleton caves in.

I take the fresh insect corpse and throw it against the remaining changeling. It catches it and sets it down gently, then leaps over, spreads its dragonfly wings and flies straight at me, filling my ears with an obnoxious buzzing sound that breaks through my deafening heartbeat.

The changeling counters my punch, bucking at me faster than I can react. Rapid blunt strikes to my neck and barrel leave me reeling, until I topple over, clutching what are sure to be some nasty bruises. Now I see why the changelings’ rotted limbs might not be such a detriment.

The changeling isn’t done. It takes advantage of my weakness, pinning my weakened foreleg to the floor and biting down on it, making the already fresh wound even larger. I feel the sting of venomous teeth surge through my body and into my head, turning my vision into a contorted mess and making noises seem even more distant and twisted.

As I flail helplessly, the changeling relentless bites at my foreleg, chest and neck, making unholy clicking and hissing noises that should not come out of any living creature. All I can do is lightly swing at it with bleeding limbs, my body betraying me and my consciousness fading away.

It shouldn’t be any surprise that Tohro is what I think about as the pain reaches its apex. I see flashes of him in the blank spots of my vision. Flashes of his smile, his beautiful golden locks, his angelic wings, his perfectly groomed coat.

The pain would mean nothing if he were here with me. Perhaps we would be victorious, or maybe we’d just die together. Either way, I’d be happy…

A curved, serrated blade cuts into the changeling’s neck and latches on. It screams as an attached chain pulls it off of me, leaving a green smear in his path. I’m barely able to turn my head and see where it’s going.

The gryphon prisoner has broken out of his bonds. Now able to see him in full, standing in what little sunlight there is, I notice only now that he has no wings, and his feathers are white as snow. It’s Altair.

He finishes the changeling off by taking his blades, which are chained to both of his arms, and gutting the insect where it lies, kicking and screaming until the blades leave its body, spilling broken chitin and green sludge on the floor.

As my sight begins to fail and I see my own blood seeping into the wooden cracks, Altair’s weapon disappears into flame. He sprints to me on all fours and grabs of my body. That is all I know before everything goes black.

I dream about Tohro. Where the dream begins and ends, I’m not really sure. It’s just me and him, necks intertwined, forelegs locked firmly around each other’s bodies. Wherever we are keeps changing. A grassy field, a snow-drenched mountaintop, a forest of falling leaves… It doesn’t truly matter where, so long as he is there with me.

“Sleep while you can, Dragonborn,” I hear a deep, soothing voice say along the wind. “You’ll have your work cut out for you if you want to save him…”

Past Tohro’s embrace, I see the gem-encrusted hilt of a sword. Whatever sword it is, it seems a little familiar. If only I could see the blade…

Curious as to whatever it could be, I find myself leaving Tohro’s embrace, passing through him as I reach out to the sword hilt. I miss it by only a hair, tripping and falling into a pile of leaves.

I reach out for the sword again, only to be a fool a second time and just barely miss. Even as I recover from another fall, I can’t quite reach the sword because the ground has violently begun to shake. I turn around, fearing an oncoming stampede, but it’s only a herd of ponies running past. In their wake, leaves cascade down on me like rain, further denying me the sword.

“Damn you, don’t be difficult…” I leap for the hilt, but it deliberately flies away. It’s mocking me!

Here I am, jumping about like a fool in the middle of some autumn forest I’ve never seen before, trying to grasp a sword I only have the faintest memory of. I deserve to trip over a stump and hit my head against a tree.

I fall on my back. My hooves immediately going to my forehead. It feels like it’s about to split open. Not to the degree of when I first heard the dragons’ tongue, but there’s definitely a fissure there.

Tohro comes into view, leaning over me and smiling innocently.

I smile back. “What?” I ask.

He speaks, not in his voice, but with the same deep voice I heard earlier. “Time is wasting away. You have to wake up.”

Wait, I know that voice.

“Don’t tell me you still retain your distaste for mornings, little one.”

My eyes shoot open as I become all too aware of the stinging gashes that decorate my body. I’m more or less a broken window pane. My headache is also there, just as searing as it was in my dream. I’ve certainly had worse, but I’ve never felt worse. What a disappointment.

The only real solace is that it’s a beautiful day. Even through my faded vision, I can see the sun poking through the tree above me, illuminating the dew drops and rain-soaked grass around me. A beautiful image for an otherwise unideal wakeup call.

I hear the grass rustling as a nearby group walks through it. “You give him too little credit. Surely you’ve seen him in his finer moments?” says a mare’s voice. I think it’s…

“I saw him at Ghastly Gorge, and the rest is hearsay. I won’t deny all he’s done, but I won’t be convinced until I see it in his grip.” And that must be…

“If anypony can wield it, it’s him.” And that is most definitely…

Despite the pain, I sit up, growling from the bottom of my throat. It’s so dry. “M-Master?” I hack out. “I-I heard…” My voice dwindles into the worst coughing fit I’ve had since I was a child. I nearly lose the bread I ate back in the cave. “I… Agh, Epona… Help…”

“He wakes!”

“Oh, for Dragos’ sake, get him some water.”

“Yes, sir.”

I blink until I can see properly, and by the time the blur fades, my vision is filled with the young, smiling face of a certain mage I’m fond of. “S-Shae?”

She levitates a canteen to my lips. I lean my head back and accept it, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of water. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet. I nearly find myself begging for more when the cap leaves my mouth, but it just comes out as more coughing.

“Leave it to the Dragonborn to show up bleeding from every part of his body and come back swinging,” she says heartily. “You’re lucky to’ve not gone into another coma. I don’t think you’re on good enough terms with the Divines to have earned yourself another resurrection.”

My mouth is still like a barren wasteland as I speak. “That wasn’t how I—” I notice something I would’ve seen earlier if I wasn’t in such a sorry state. Shae’s eyes are no longer glassy and faded. Rather, she’s reclaimed her magenta irises, which seem to be perpetually glowing. “...Shae, you look different…” I reach out and touch her face. “Are you still…”

She gently embraces me. “It’s a miracle, isn’t it? In a moment of doubt, I reached into the Fae and had an experience even the most powerful sages can only dream of! I saw so much, and… and now I see so much! Does that make sense?”

“No…” I say in a cough.

Shae sighs, but she still appears happy, and that’s enough for me. “I’ll tell you everything on the way to Baltimare, I promise. We don’t have much time.”

“Understatement of the twilight age, Shae Sparkle,” Altair says, approaching me from seemingly out of nowhere. He truly is a master of stealth… Either that, or I’m still delirious. “It seems we were able to extract most of the venom. The remnants will eventually work their way out, sooner or later…" He shows off a vial of green and red liquid, and gives it to Shae, who tucks it into her bag. It’s just now that I notice a long package slung over her back.

“You should avoid overexerting yourself,” she says. “When changeling venom works its way into your body, your muscles are the first to go. But I think we can make use of this venom in our favor…”

“We can use it against Chrysalis,” I suggest. “She can learn what it is to be weak and afraid.”

“My goodness, you have become quite vicious. Hearing you speak such words in person is much more intense than hearing it through the liquid glass.”

I look over my shoulder for the soothing voice I’ve come to associate with Master. Sitting next to the tree, his dark scales shimmering in the light, his beard rustling in the wind, there he is. Commanding all of his power with his mere presence, but the familiar twinkle in his eye assures me that it’s the stallion who raised me, simply in a larger form.

I crawl to him, a smile finally crossing my lips. He returns the expression in the best way a dragon can. He respects my strength and willpower by allowing me to struggle to my hooves without any helping claw. I stumble to him, walking as proudly as I can, until finally, I collapse against his arm.

“Hi…” I mutter.

“You don’t question why I’m here?” he asks.

“I don’t care about that.” I bury my muzzle into his scales.

He lightly strokes my mane with a single claw. “Still, I think it would assist you to know that I came across Shae Sparkle and her dear friend Rosemary Von Spice just outside the catacombs. They had an unexpected guest. If I recall correctly, it was…”

Shae clears her throat. “It was Tangerine. She became a lycan.”

“That took a while…” I comment.

“She turned back into her pony self while Hammerfell flew us to the villa. She looks… different. Her coat is like soot now.”

Master nods and continues. “It was decided to leave Rosemary Von Spice with Lady Tangerine while she recovered from her difficult transformation. After that, Shae’s new abilities and my sense of smell allowed us to pin down your location.” Master chuckles to himself. “We… followed the scent of perfume. It seems some habits never die.”

I see Altair struggle to hold back laughter. I’m too relieved to be angry; I also find myself amused.

“Unfortunately, your trail went cold around the marshlands. It was only when we happened across Altair that we found you and two other ponies. The smell of blood, it was… haunting. I feared the worst had happened.” Master strokes my mane again. “It might as well have, with what you went through. You worry me, child.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I should be the sorry one, knowing what nearly became of you. Altair informed me of everything that transpired in that cabin after he sent the ponies off, with bags of money in their pockets.”

“It’s to ensure they stay quiet,” Altair explains. He’s sharpening one of his knives on his pauldron. “The fewer who know about changelings, the better. It’ll help ensure our victory in the trial ahead.”

“Trial?” I ask.

Altair shoots at me with his intense avian gaze. “Few are able to cross Chrysalis’ path and survive, Dragonborn. Even fewer are able to stand up to her. You’ve seen firsthoof how sadistic she can be, just for a quick meal.”

“It may as well have been torture,” I say, pulling away from Master. “I wouldn’t wish that on anypony.”

“She feeds on the things that have defined Equestria ever since the twilight age began,” Altair pushes, holding out his talons. “Fear. Anger. Hatred. Despair. This place may have been damaged before she came here, but she made parts of it rotten to the core. Removing her means removing the thing that slumdogs and barons alike fear when they go to sleep at night.”

I suddenly remember a reason I should be seething. “She took my angel away from me…”

“Tohro won’t die, Caro.”

“How?” I ask, reluctant to believe it.

“What use would she have for a dead prisoner? She’ll continue to feed on his fear for as long as she can. So long as he has anything to feel, he’s a source of food and power for her.”

I feel a glimmer forming inside of me. I nod at Altair. “So, what do you propose we do?”

With a smirk, Altair approaches me, playfully tossing his knife around. “What else are we supposed to do when somepony like her crosses the line? This isn’t just your average street crook. She is a self-pronounced queen who has monopolized an empire of fear and loathing for her kind’s own gain. She has sanctioned the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of ponies without a second thought. Some of those ponies happened to be members of the Thieves Guild. My guild. And now she’s taken one of my finest students hostage.”

Altair beckons to Shae, who makes a small “Oh!” sound. She takes the package off her back and levitates it before me. The ropes begin to come off.

“I believed that I shouldn’t disobey the higher power I follow because I feared it would upset the balance of the world. But there is no balance anymore, not with demons like Chrysalis exploiting their abilities on the world. It’s time that I allowed good ponies like you to take matters into your own hooves.”

The wrappings come loose, revealing the gem-encrusted hilt I saw in my dream. The rest of the sword comes out of the wrappings, causing my heartbeat to escalate faster than I thought possible.

That flawless blade… It’s Excalibur.

Altair takes Excalibur from Shae’s levitation field, holding it with tender care. “I too have abused something… My authority as a Nightingale. I swore to uphold the legacy of Hephaestus, but his legacy means nothing if his creations can’t be used for the purposes of their creation. Excalibur is a tool for leaders to carve out a future for themselves and their followers, and you have quite a number of followers, if I recall correctly.”

Altair sets Excalibur down before me. I step towards it, afraid it’s too holy for me to even look at. I once had a chance to wield it, but the opportunity was taken away from me. I won’t let that happen again, and I won’t turn down the possibility to own King Hurricane’s finest sword.

“I apologize on Mistral’s behalf for denying you this in the first place,” Altair says. “Her actions were at my command. Blame me for not allowing you a fair chance.” He steps away from the sword and crouches down in anticipation. “Caro, if you are worthy, both the Thieves Guild and the Nightingales will follow you into Chrysalis’ lair without question.”

I take a deep breath. Tired of waiting for a sign of whether or not Excalibur is mine to wield, I reach down, and touch the hilt. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. “How will I know if I’m worthy?” I ask.

“You’ll know,” Altair says.

I take another breath and lift the blade. After a second that lasts far too long, something finally happens. Excalibur shines brilliantly, a warm, pleasant light emitting from its blade. I feel the light pour into me like a dragon’s soul would, and when it fades, the sword is gone from sight.

Altair looks both excited and apprehensive. “Hold out your hoof. Call to it.”

I do as he says, reaching out and concentrating on the image of Excalibur in my mind. Just like that, the sword appears in my hoof, aglow and mighty. I give it a proud swing, and it gives off a satisfying swish. I feel as though I’m cleaving through the wind itself.

I swing it one again, this time moving my whole body. My elation for my newfound weapon is almost enough to make me forget my aching muscles. When I will the sword to disappear, I look up at Master.

“Like the stallion I believed you could be.”

I turn back to Altair and Shae, who are both beaming. I say to them, “Let’s go rescue Tohro.”