Caro awakes from a thankfully dreamless sleep to find he’s uncommonly moist and cold. There is no sound of rain, in fact, there’s no sound of anything. In discomfort, he kicks and forces himself out of his grogginess. He looks about at the once dull and gray gravel road and sees it coated in several inches of snow.

“Wow...” he can’t help but mutter.

Just overnight, such a depressingly dreary place turned into a gorgeous piece of art. He wishes that Xephyr were here to sing about it in all its natural beauty, how the scattered trees are now one with the ground, and the grass is indistinguishable from the mud. Everything shares the same white blanket.

Speaking of blankets, Caro’s is now ruined because of how soggy it has become. He tosses it aside. He then breathes into his hooves, hoping his warm breath will expunge his discomfort from the cold, and gets a bearing on his close surroundings. The bag of holding is almost buried. Luckily, the enchantments set upon it seem to keep it from ever getting soaked. There’s something missing from the immediate vicinity, however...

Caro starts digging through the snow around him, hoping Tohro hasn’t been smothered.

“Oi! Caro, why’re you scratchin’ around like some chicken for feed?”

Caro searches around, before finally looking up, finding Tohro’s head poking out through a break in the overcast sky.

“Ah, couldn’t you tell the difference between a cloud and the ground?” the cocky pegasus jests. “I’ll give you a hint; one has me on it!” He laughs at his own joke, though he’s the only one who does so, and hovers in circles back down to Caro’s level.

“Enjoy the view?” asks Caro with a smile.

“Yes, it’s certainly an aesthetically pleasing time of year, but I’m more concerned about you. After yesterday, I thought you’d be catatonic all winter.”

The discovery of Caro’s bloodlust was tragic, at best. The earthwalker has taken Tohro’s words to heart, that such instincts will keep him safe from danger. It comes across as more of a blessing in disguise than a curse, though the thought of craving mutilation in the heat of battle is still rather sobering.

“I’ve decided to put my issues aside for the time being,” says Caro. “We have far more important matters to attend to.”

Tohro gives Caro a friendly slap on the shoulder. “That’s how you do it, mate. Spoken like a true Blackwing.”

Caro’s smile disappears. “So, how long until we arrive at Trottingham?” he asks as he equips the bag of holding.

“It’s less than an hour from here, if we walk,” says Tohro. “This time, let us not come across any Imperial posts, shall we?”

The journey is relatively uneventful for its brevity, and thankfully so. The effort it takes to trudge through the snow gradually grows from an inconvenience to an ordeal, at least for Caro. Tohro, completely and blissfully unaware of how much insulting it is, hops along without falter by staying partially airborne. Caro refuses any offer to be carried.

Neither of the two know how long they had slept. The light of the sun comes from the east, so it is currently morning, but that is the extent of their knowledge.

As the path dips into an open field, rock formations give way to bushes and small trees. Farmlands surround a collection of houses and shops bordered by a stone wall.

“There’s Trottingham,” says Tohro. “A whole lot of ponies come here. Most just pass through, or try their hoof at joining that warrior guild, the Carriers, or whatever. I’ve talked to the Jarl before. He’s unbiased toward the Empire and Shokenda, but the population seems more partial to the former. I’m not too fond of this place.” He shakes his head.

“All I care about is whether or not they have a decent marketplace,” says Caro.

“Well then, shall we start a shopping list?”

“Common sense says we should have a tent, and it needs to be one with enchantments to keep us safe from any highwayponies or thieves, as well as weather buffs. We should also acquire towels, blankets, soap...”

“Soap?”

Caro stops and looks at his Tohro with curiosity. “You don’t use soap?” He adds another entry to his mental list of grievances with Tohro. “Let’s see... I’ll have to find a blacksmith for the greatsword...”

Tohro taps him on the shoulder and points ahead. Crossing a stone bridge over a stream are two Imperial unicorn soldiers with another unicorn, a prisoner, in tow.

“I recognize that mare,” Tohro says.

Caro snorts derisively. “What, is she one of the many you’ve slept with, then?”

Tohro takes the jab in stride, to Caro’s annoyance. “Yeah, but I actually had to work for that one, which is why I recognize her. Another reason is that hornlet.”

Caro squints, and can just barely make out a small black ring around the mare’s horn. “What is that?”

“It’s a badge that Blackwing sorcerers wear. It’s got a pair of wings etched into it, and a small, colored band. The badge helps augment a specific element or type of magic. Blue is water and healing, for example. Quick! Take these shackles, lock me up.”

“What,” says Caro. It isn’t a question.

Tohro pulls a set of shackles and a pair of wing clasps from his own pouch.

“I’m getting the feeling that you like being tied up,” says Caro as he raises an eyebrow. “What else do you have with you? A whip?”

“Yes, a brand, a crop, purple stuff and a gag as well, but I’d rather talk for this one. Lock me up.”

Caro reluctantly takes Tohro’s hooves and applies the shackles. He thinks he should be enjoying this more.

“Blimey, is this how it feels?” asks Tohro. He struggles to move in any direction without losing his balance, and the chains are too heavy for him to fly away, not that he intends to. “I now have sympathy for our prisoners of war.”

Caro slaps him in the chest, causing him to keel over.

“Way to commit to the bit!” says Tohro, gritting his teeth from the pain.

“What bit?” asks Caro. “I don’t even know why you requested this.”

“Eh, excuse me?”

Caro turns around and finds himself face to face with one of the unicorn soldiers. This one is dark red with polished purple and gold steel armor. The other soldier is larger, a darker shade of red and wearing the same gear. Both their helmets cover their muzzles.

The unicorn mare is stark naked, aside from the ring. It seems that the soldiers had forgotten to remove it, or simply dismissed it as a pointless accessory. Either way, the grey-coated black-maned mare looks sickly and somewhat horrified. Hell, she’s shaking in her boots, not even blinking.

“It seems you’ve placed a Blackwing under citizen’s arrest,” says the smaller soldier.

“Wha- oh, yes!” Caro understands Tohro’s idea completely. How awkward it would have been to pass by these guards alongside a fully armored Blackwing. He may as well paint himself in vivid colors and yell for the archers to ready their crossbows. He wants to compliment his companion’s quick thinking, but first things first, he makes up a story. “I was just, uh, taking a nap when this thief tried to make off with my... my weapons!”

The large one scoffs and spits at the ground. “That is just cheap. Shows how desperate their kind is.”

“Oh, incredibly cheap.” Caro can hardly believe that this is working so well. “I chased after him but by the time I caught up he had already killed an earthwalker and two pegasi. They were Imperials, too.”

This causes both guards to stand up stiff and alert. “Wait, how?!” says the smaller one. “That better have been a fluke.”

Caro milks the giant cow for all it’s worth. “Oh, it was just terrible!” he says, feigning drama. “I feared for my life but I stood brave and shouted ‘For the Empire!’ I wrestled him to the ground and snapped these shackles right on him.” He looks at Tohro, who is faking despair and helplessness quite well.

“What a story, citizen,” says the big one.

“Wait, where did you get the shackles? You didn’t say you had any on hoof.”

“Oh! Uh...” Caro realizes that he’s backed himself into a corner.

“The bastard took them off the bodies of my fellow soldiers!” says Tohro in a very convincing angry tone. “I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling-”

Caro hits him again, a little harder to keep up the act. “So, I’ll be taking him to Trottingham,” Caro says. “We’ll see if he begs for mercy in his cell.”

The smaller guard halts him from taking a step forward. “Are you sure you can handle him? Me and my friend here can take it from here.”

Caro puts on a large smirk. “I’m more than a match for a flimsy pegasus. Besides, you’ve already got a prisoner.”

“Well,” says the big one, “don’t hesitate to shout if he somehow slips away. These Blackwings are tricky bastards, like this one here.” He shoots a dirty look at the mare, who cowers in fear. “She was camping between some rocks on the hillside just east of here trying to snipe us, but we caught her before she fire a single spell. Ain’t that right, Pyro?”

“Hell yeah,” says the smaller one. He looks to Caro and gives a respectful salute. “For Queen Platinum and the Empire.”

“Yeah, uh, for the Empire.”

“You have a good day, sir.”

Caro waits until the soldiers are out of earshot before he undoes Tohro’s shackles. The pegasus flutters about, thankful for gaining full control of his body again.

“I’m surprised. You’re quite the strategist under pressure,” says Caro. He stores the shackles and chains in the bag of holding. “Still, that seemed awfully elaborate. It would have been just as easy to you to fly over the bridge and regroup with me at the entrance to Trottingham.”

“Well,” says Tohro as he stretches out on the left side of the bridge, “if I were to do that, I wouldn’t have gotten my hooves on this!” He shows off the same hornlet worn by the unicorn mare.

“You’re a sneaky thief,” says Caro, “but what good is her ring to us?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said we could find any use for it.”

“Perhaps somepony in Trottingham would find value in Blackwing equipment?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m selling this.” Tohro tosses the ring to Caro. “Slip that away somewhere safe. The next time I see one of my brethren, I’ll pass it on to them.”

“So they can do what?”

“Track that mare down, of course. We Blackwings would never leave a comrade to die. Whenever a unicorn wears a ring or magical item like this, they put a little bit of their Fae into it, and-”

Caro interrupts. “Fae?”

“It’s... hard to explain. Ask a unicorn, they can tell you. Anyway, the Blackwing mage corps can use that ring to track down anypony who has ever used it...”

“So you intend on sending it back to headquarters so you can go and rescue that mare like the big damn heroes that you are?”

Tohro points and shouts. “Exactly!”

Caro crosses the bridge with his backside to Tohro. “Leave me out of it.”

Tohro smiles, happily trotting after to catch up. “I wouldn’t want you in it, anyways. You’re not a Blackwing, so we can’t trust you on such a mission.”

“Yet you trust me with your secrets,” Caro points out, much to Tohro’s amusement.

“Yes, yes, that is true, isn’t it? Well, the reason is simple. You’d be axed by the Empire on sight for fraternizing with us rebels, so there’s not much you can do with our information.”

Caro hates to admit it, even to himself, but his partner has a point. He stops trotting. “Fine, then. Find a place to duck out of sight, and remove anything that ties you to the rebels. We don’t need anypony else coming along trying to capture us just because you’re a Blackwing, and I’d rather avoid another improvisation act.”

Tohro shrugs and heads towards a sizable boulder, jumping over it with a small flap of his wings. He’s barely gone a minute before Caro hears him call out. “Oi, mate! Come look at this!”

“I swear to the Divines, if you’re trying to show me your unsheathed blade, I’ll geld you where you stand.”

“No, Caro. This isn’t that at all.”

Caro grunts and starts around the rock, coming to a stop on the other side where Tohro has stripped down to his under-armor. Nothing about him says rebel, except for his grave expression. Instead of fresh snow like everywhere else, the snow closest to the rock has been sullied, mostly from the shuffling of hooves, but also...

“Look, blood. Not much, but since these mare’s clothes are with it, I’ll give you three guesses as what happened here.” Tohro looks up at Caro, his eyes heavy with remorse. “The first two don’t count.”

Caro’s about to ask what he means, when a recent happening flashes through his mind. A mare, looking shocked and scared, devoid of clothing despite the chilling weather. His eyes narrow, his hackles rising in anger. Those... those bastards! he thinks. It isn’t enough that they captured her, they have to degrade her? You don’t take away something like that... He snaps his gaze back to Tohro. “We need to go after them. Now. Her being a Blackwing be damned, she’s still a mare, and those bastards...”

He turns, ready to unsheathe his blade.

“Don’t!” Tohro grabs him around his midsection.

Caro looks upon Tohro with utter rage. “Let go of me! They deserve to-”

“That mare, she’s one of the better mages I’ve seen in my life. If those soldiers could overpower her, what makes you think you could do better?”

“But... I can’t-”

“You're not strong enough. Accept it and let it go.”

There’s a moment of silence for the mare and her innocence.

“Have I mentioned that I really fucking hate the empire?” says Tohro.

Caro looks back in anger and hatred. The soldiers are long gone and he knows that no matter what happens to them, even if the mare is rescued, there is something lost that cannot ever be brought back. Such is the way of the Twilight Age.

“I need a name,” says Caro.

Tohro is confused. “The Blackwing? Her name is Jade, but-”

“No, not her. The soldiers.”

“Oh. I think the big guy called the squirt Pyro. Why do you ask?”

“So I can find them.”

Icy mountain tops, meter high snow, and a vast, uncensored view of the world below. All this and more is what Shae sees. It’s all she has seen since she descended from the village of Wintercolt and took the passageway into the mountain range. It looks a lot different up close than from her dormitory window. It seems less jagged and chaotic, and provides a good view of where the plains of western Equestria end and the wet marshlands of the east begin. Farther up north from the former is where Reinoc lies. Of course, Shae is in no hurry to find a smoldering ruin of a coastal town and return to school so soon. This is the first time in years she’s taken steps outside Wintercolt. She has to contain her enthusiasm lest she burst. All the unique and colorful plant life expands her alchemy inventory, and she is able to put her years of education in magic to work, whether it be lighting up a cloudy night with summoned light, or keeping herself warm with blue enchanted fire. No teachers or prefects to keep her from using her spells freely.

At the moment, she is stargazing. The Academy’s astronomy tower gives a clear view of the stars at all hours of the day but it’s truly wondrous to see them up close and personal with her own eyes. She levitates her quill to her notebook and sketches the star formations to the best of her ability.

Why are you taking notes on this stuff, Shae? You’re not taking astronomy this term, she imagines Sundance saying. “Oh, you silly mare. Just because I’m playing detective for a while doesn’t mean I can’t bring back a little extra credit. Professor Orion would love this.”

Shae talks to herself often when she’s studying, as if her classmates and teachers are looking over her shoulder. They always expect so much of her, and she delivers. She never cracks under pressure. Now that there isn’t any pressure, it’s an interesting feeling. It’s not bad, it’s just... interesting.

Her little encampment consists of a humble tent that protects from the wind and snow flurries, a blanket for any activity relevant to studying and several jars of blue fire for warmth. Just as she is applying the finishing touches to her fifth discovered star formation and thinking about what to name it, she hears muffled hoofsteps in the snow.

“Excuse me, Miss. Are you from Wintercolt Academy?” asks a young pegasus with a rather throaty voice. He’s light yellow and wears bear hide armor.

“I am, actually,” says Shae with a sense of pride. “Salutations. It’s a good night for a stroll, wouldn’t you say? I was just doing a little research.”

“Um, right.” The pegasus doesn’t seem all that interested in academic matters. He takes a cautious walk around the camp. “If ya wouldn’t mind, couldja come with me? Me and my friends found a stash a’ soul gems, we dunno if they’re still workin’. You know, ya bein’ a unicorn and all...”

“I’d love to help out,” says Shae. “Finally, a practical use for my abilities!” Still leaving the blue fire burning and her books open, she follows the pegasus down the descending dirt road.

There’s an overhang coating the path in darkness, so she lights the way with an illumination spell and takes the lead. The pegasus behind her smiles wickedly. His teeth are jagged, his eyes lit with a barely contained manic fervor. He licks his lips before giving Shae closed smile, signalling for her to head down the eastern path.

It doesn’t take Shae long to become suspicious. Something just doesn’t seem quite right, with the pegasus’ disposition and the way he keeps staring at her... and her pockets. She takes a deep breathing, knowing that if there’s any potential danger, she can make a quick getaway. I am not a defenseless damsel, she assures herself.

There’s a fork in the road, with a few large tents set up off to the side of the road. There’s a smell of a recently snuffed campfire. “Here we are,” says the pegasus. He imitates the sound of a crow, causing Shae to jump a little. “Boys, I found a good one!”

The way he refers to Shae as if she’s an object only makes her more nervous. Worse still, many dark, muscular earthwalkers enter the vicinity from bushes, behind rocks and just plain out of nowhere. They’re smiling, but it’s not exactly the welcome kind of smile. It’s just as psychotic as the smile of the pegasus, who is standing uncomfortably close.

“By the way,” he says, “didja come here alone?”

Shae’s mind is racing far too fast for her to lie. “Y-yes? Why do you ask?”

The earthwalkers bite down on the handles on their swords and maces.

The pegasus’ feathers spread, revealing several small blades. “Just curious.”