Metal Taggart is a young grey stallion, and a newly inducted Blackwing. One week before today, he hitched a ride to Fillydelphia on a produce caravan. After arriving, he’d marched up to the gates of Ysgramare with nothing but a cloth tunic, a blue cape and a makeshift spear, and pleaded with the higher-ups to let him be a part of their revolution, so he might lead Equestria to the promised era of harmony that the founders had failed to deliver.

This is his first day on patrol, and it’s off to an unusual start. His bunk is shared with a larger stallion who still has his forelegs wrapped tightly around him. Sore, and a little shameful, Metal Taggart removes himself from the grip of the stallion, whose name he can’t remember, and gets out of his bunk. He retrieves his scale tunic, blue cape, and spear, then sets off through the barracks. He thinks he sees movement in his shadow, but it passes by too quickly for him to identify if it was just his imagination. He can’t be bothered with it; he isn’t on patrol duty today. His job is guarding the front gate of Ysgramare.

It’s cold, it’s boring, and it’s uncomfortable, but he loves it. He knows that it’s because of ponies like him that a god like Shokenda can rest easy and calculate her next course of action in reclaiming this land for the little people who believe in a truly peaceful kingdom, not one ruled by an elitist so-called empire. And with the Dragonborn dead at the gorge, who would stop her?

Metal Taggart and his fellow soldier ready their spears as a suspicious figure ascends the steps, his cloak billowing in the wind, his face concealed. As he approaches, Taggart crosses his spear with his ally’s in front of the door, blocking entry.

“Halt, citizen. No one sees Shokenda without an official summons,” Taggart says. His voice is still meek, but he expects he’ll grow into the role of a soldier in time.

The figure drops his hood. He’s a burly, turquoise stallion with a wild grey mane and slits for pupils.

“Dragonborn?!” Taggart shouts, pointing his spear at the specter. “Y-you’re supposed to be… How did you survive the acid dragon?!”

The Dragonborn tilts his head. “You all thought I was dead? Well, that could have come in handy… I’m here to see a brat named Cloud. You might know her as Shokenda.” He takes off the cloak and throws it at Taggart, who catches it with his face. “Burn that. I don’t need it anymore.”

“What… Who the hell is Cloud?” Taggart asks, fumbling over getting the cloak off of his face. Once he throws it aside. He notes that It’s not even a cloak at all, it looks like a ratty, moth-eaten curtain.

“That’s not important. Shokenda would have you bring me to her anyway, so I’m just saving you the trouble. How about you do away with the spears and let me through?”

Unpleasant surprises aside, Taggart is rather intrigued at the possibility of being the one who leads Shokenda’s sworn enemy right to her, despite the confusion over him being alive. Thanks to him, she’ll be able to finish the job. With an approving nod from his ally, Taggart retracts his spear and holds out his hoof. “Weapons.”

“No, thanks. I brought my own.” The Dragonborn taps Taggart on the cheek, strides right past him, and opens the front gate on his own.

Taggart blinks, then scowls at Caro and his obviously unarmed self. "Of course, a stallion that need only shout to attack has no need to carry a blade. I'd call for a muzzle or bit, but I doubt your voice is a match for Her Preeminence's."

Caro doesn’t even look at Taggart as he marches inside Ysgramare, the doors closing behind him. “Trust me, kid. Beneath all that posturing, she’s just a scared little girl.” He pauses. “Oh, and you have about five minutes to leave before this place burns to the ground.”

The doors slam shut. Taggart looks nervously at his ally. “Wow, I do not like this day…”

~Caro~

The thick and tall hallways of Ysgramare are cleaner than the whole of Fillydelphia. Another rookie guard, a twitchy female pegasus, drops her spear at the first sight of me and immediately turns and flees. She points at me as she ducks into another hallway. “DRAGONBORN! THE DRAGONBORN LIVES! THE DEAD WALK AMONG US!!”

The other Blackwings look at her as nothing more than a bother, approaching me without any sense of hesitation. Four of them gather around me. I roll my eyes and continue forward despite them, only to be greeted by two steel blades, a spearhead, and an axe up against my neck in a circle.

“Let’s try that again…” I say, my throat brushing against the blade as I speak. “I’m here to do your jobs for you.”

“Spare us the mouth, Caro,” the Blackwing in front says. “Protocol dictates that you are to be muzzled before speaking to our mistress. Boys?” He gestures to his fellow soldiers.

“Aren’t you curious about how I survived?” I ask with a sly grin.

“No. Just pissed off.”

At least they have the decency to pull my mane back before wrapping muzzle straps around my mouth. The muzzle itself isn’t enough to hold my mouth closed, but it will make use of any Thu’um more difficult. I’ll have to pick one that doesn’t require me to move my jaw too much.

“You’ll be taken to Shokenda fully guarded. Do not step away from us, or make any sudden movements. If you do not comply, your actions will be taken as a threat, and you will be at our mercy. When in Shokenda’s presence, she is your mistress as much as ours. There will be snipers and additional armed guards. You will speak only when spoken to, and will not let your responses last longer than thirty seconds. If you do not comply, your actions will be taken as a threat, and you will be at Shokenda’s mercy. Do you have any requests before we take you to the throne room?”

“Shut up.”

“No. Come along.”

Blades at my neck, surrounded by soldiers confident that I’ll be dead within minutes. It’s as nostalgic as honey biscuits.

I hear Rasahrel breathing heavily within me. She sounds as concerned as ever. ”You haven’t taken any dragon souls since the last time you faced Shokenda,” she reminds me. “Will revealing the truth be enough to bring her to your level?”

I shake my head. “Probably not,” I whisper.

”I know our goal isn’t victory, merely distraction. Still, you can’t trust Shokenda to just let you walk away after our friends’ jobs are complete. You’ll have to do enough damage to take your leave.”

“I have a means. Remember the Thu’um that I used against those wolves? The one that Kyne taught me?”

”Drem. Ov. Yes, I remember. It’s a peacekeeping shout. Do you intend on using it on Shokenda?”

“It’s a longshot. I don’t know if it will be powerful enough without the third word, but if I can quell her, perhaps I can use the orb to reveal her secret. I’ll just need to wait for a moment of opportunity, then speak the words, and bring Cloud into the spotlight. Even the Blackwings won’t follow her after finding out what she truly is.”

I feel Rasahrel’s pleasant shock within me. ”Caro... I’m genuinely impressed.”

“This will be violent. I might scream a bit, but I won’t lose myself to my anger this time. When I fought Shokenda at the gorge, rage guided my body. This time, I have something else in my heart. Someone else. It’s not much, but it’s at least a little I have over Shokenda.”

”A little? Caro, I’ve lost track of how much of Tohro I see in here. I hate to quote Shokenda, but even my kind understands how powerful love can be.”

“That being the case…” The door to the throne room isn’t far ahead. I smile and look down, pretending as though Rasahrel is right in front of me. “Well, from where you’re standing, it should be obvious how I feel.”

Now I feel warmth coming from my chest. ”Caro…”

The Blackwings nudge their weapons against me. “We can remove your tongue if you can’t control it,” one of them says.

“Don’t be a wiseass,” I say. “You’re the prisoners here, not me.”

~Vision End~

~Shae~

We’ve been standing in the most uncomfortable place I’ve ever been in for about an hour now. A hallway full of iron doors, stretching on for far longer than it should. To anyone else, it would just be as it seems; iron doors, possibly containing prisoners, or weapons, or perhaps the many kidnapped children…

It’s the children. But it’s not just a few. Every locked room, from here to the end of the hall, is filled with four children, all of them sleeping on their backs, all of their auras perfectly still. If I focus hard enough, I can hear their collective breaths, and they’re all the exact same.

Ever since Temerity had to briefly take leave, Tangerine, Rosemary, Wolf River and I have already tried knocking on the doors. There aren’t any locks to pick, and the sealing is too strong for me to burn away. There’s no way to break these kids free without make a scene, and I won’t be putting them in danger.

Temerity comes down the stairs, mumbling to himself as he looks over a few notes. He folds them up and jams them in his bag.

“I’m sorry that took so long. Apparently there’s been a disturbance among the populous. Some bloke in a robe, and suddenly Shokenda is too busy torturing a prisoner to actually deal with it… Sometimes I despise being second in command, just kill me now…”

We’ll get to that.

“I have to return to my office… My actual office, the one that Shokenda knows about. But that’s no reason to end the tour. I’ll leave you in equally capable hooves.” He approaches a wall-bound bell and rings it.

After a few seconds, all of the iron doors open at the same time. At first, I think it’s a mechanism, but then I focus on the auras of the children, and see that they all opened the doors in unison, down to the second. They moved before I even noticed; their Auras still and silent as grave markers. They all emerge from their rooms, the doors again moving all at once to close, and stand perfectly aligned on either side of us, their eyes unblinking, their bodies still. It’s a gallery of multicolored equine statues.

“Good morning, soldiers,” says Temerity in a proud, sweet voice as he walks along the dozens upon dozens of stationary children. That, among other things, makes me cringe. “That was just a drill. This is the one hundred and fifty-second day in a row that you’ve all risen from your bunks with perfect punctuality and synergy. Splendid.”

“Thank you, sir,” all the children say, terse and lifeless.

Rosemary gasps quicker than she can cover her mouth. I can see her eyes starting to water. Wolf River and Tangerine’s auras are pulsating faster by the second.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Temerity asks, before looking back down at the children. “Unfortunately, we couldn’t get any zebra children or gryphons. The former is too rare for people to not notice an absence, and touching the gryphons puts us at risk with the Thieves Guild. Not that it’ll matter much in the end, but this was our best option.”

“In the end?” Wolf River asks.

Temerity smiles widely. “Anxious to see where this is going, are we?”

“Yes,” Tangerine says. I can see her aura crack with that one word.

“Well, you’ll find out the purpose of this project in time, but the process is what’s most important. To put it simply, let’s save dessert for after the meal.” He clears his throat. “Number Six! Number Ten! Number Twenty-Four!”

Three of the children step forward. One girl, and two boys. “Orders?” they ask.

Temerity takes the scraps of paper out of his pack and hands them to one of the children. I presume she is Number Six. Or, the pony he would call Number 6. She has a name, by Fauste’s horn.

Number Six, Number Ten and Number Twenty-Four read the paper. Six then gives it back to Temerity. “Understood.” She stiffly turns towards us. “We will show you how Temerity Blackwing will revolutionize warfare in Equestria.”

“Bother me in my quarters if you need anything,” Temerity says, going back upstairs and waving goodbye to us. “Otherwise, wait back at the entrance and I’ll meet up with you. Then we can discuss your first impressions.”

Judging by the queasiness plain as day on Rosemary’s face, along with the overly grim expressions of Wolf River and Tangerine, I’m surprised our first impressions aren’t explicit enough already. Temerity must be blinded by arrogance, truly.

“Follow us,” the three children say simultaneously, as the several dozen others all return to their rooms. Again, in perfect, statuesque unison.

~Vision End~

Temerity ascends a spiral stone staircase to the top level of the barracks, muttering to himself all the while as he checks through his papers. He makes sure he has everything on file, just in case he has to make a gallop for it. When he reaches the top level, he opens the door and steps out into the outdoor training grounds. The shooting range and obstacle courses are buried underneath piles of snow. Shovels that were being used to do away with the snow have been left abandoned, much to Temerity’s distaste.

“Our evacuation procedure calls for calm and orderly removal from the area, and that includes proper disposal of utilities. Whoever was on sanitorial duty today will have three days in the barracks to think about what they’ve—” Temerity’s ranting is cut off by a sudden frigid gust. He shivers, props up his coat and hurries along the ramparts to his quarters. “Just a few more documents and I’m gone with the wind… Preferably away from this wind.”

He descends into the authority section of the barracks, walking past the many commanding officers’ abandoned quarters until he comes to the end of the hall, where his room resides. He opens it, enters quickly, and shuts the door.

“Don’t worry about it too much… A bit of a vacation, then I can finish the procedure…”

“And what procedure would that be, Temerity?”

Temerity swings around in a flash, levitating a knife from his belt. He gasps and bites his lip when he sees an old face sitting in his chair, hind legs crossed on the desk. A white pegasus with a braided blonde mane. “Tohro Blackwing. I’ll be damned. Just when I thought I’d never see you again… I suppose my good fortune had to run out eventually.”

“The Divines work in mysterious ways. They’d have to, else it’d be a perfect world and stains like you would be washed from the world already.” Tohro waves gleefully. “Lock the door and have a seat. I just want to talk.”

“Uh, no.” Temerity turns back around and reaches for the door. He quickly pulls his hoof back when a crossbow bolt grazes it, piercing the door’s frame.

Tohro has his crossbow drawn. Temerity realizes how foolish he was to expect anything less from him. “Did I stutter?” Tohro asks. “Sit down.”

Temerity still finds it in him to chuckle at this absurdity. He does as Tohro says, pulling up one of his less comfortable chairs and sitting at the other side of the desk. “So, are you here to kill me, or do you seek a polite discussion?”

“I’m here to make things simple.” Tohro puts his hind legs down, along with his crossbow, and pulls out a wingblade. “See, you don’t really have anywhere to go, since I can kill you at a full sprint. I, however, have a meeting to attend, so it’s up to you to decide how much this hurts. Put your foreleg on the desk.”

Temerity reluctantly does so, keeping an eye on the wing blade over his foreleg as he asks, “What would you like to know?”

“What you know.” With a smirk, Tohro presents a leather binder full of documents, and tosses it onto the desk. “I had a look through your private cabinet. Took a quick peek at your writing until I found what I was looking for. You’re still as apt with a quill as you’ve become at kidnapping children.”

“I never touched the childr— AGH!” Temerity’s comment is cut off by Tohro’s wing blade slicing through his foreleg. He tries to retract it, but Tohro slams his hoof down on it, keeping it in place. “What the hell?!”

Tohro points the wing blade at Temerity’s face, close enough for it to be blurred in his close vision. “I figured I should let you know how thin my line of patience is, and how much bullshit I’m willing to put up with.” His smile grows wider, but his eyebrows are low and furious. “Both are very small. But, on the bright side, you get to decide where I cut next. Isn’t this fun?”

“You’d think so, but…” Temerity retracts his to-be comment when he sees Tohro flick the wing blade. “Okay, okay, let’s get this over and done with.” He uses his free hoof to turn the binder around and open it. “There was a lot of preliminary study to all of this, so I’ll just skip to the actual execution of the project.”

“Now he understands…”

Temerity finds the page Tohro would be looking for and taps it with his hoof. It shows a set of horse-shaped black armor.

~Caro~

The dozens of Blackwings standing guard in the throne room gasp and step back at the very sight of me. I smile and chuckle in response.

I’d expect Shokenda to make a show out of how much she’d expected me to survive, but even she can be surprised. As I’m brought before the throne, I see her eyes widen. “Caro, why don’t you ever do as I wish?” she asks. “I wanted you to join me and you refused. I wanted you to become strong and you refused. I wanted you to die from Almoskir’s toxin and you refused. You wound me.”

Her words mean nothing to me. I shrug. “Good.”

She sighs and shakes her head. She then waves her hoof at the Blackwings surrounding me. “Put your weapons down. If a venomous dragon can’t kill him then there’s no point. Leave him for me.”

“So the dice falls on murder today, does it?” I ask, breathing as the discomfort of metal near my neck disappears. “Best put me down before midnight, or you’ll have to decide between my life or death again.”

“Already we tread traveled ground. I told you, live or die, you serve me in the end. But today, you’ve appeared to me when I need you the least. I thought you dead. This war is at a lull, and I am in no mood for a fight. Tell me why you’re here and leave.”

I’m glad she’s not wasting time waxing her own masturbatory fantasies, for once. I also appreciate that she’s confessed to impatience. She’s not the only one. I decide to start with the original reason I was going to confront her. “I know you have Smart Cookie. Have you got what you need out of him?”

“Yes… Unfortunately, it’s not relevant to what I want. Shame. You can have him back.” Shokenda looks expectantly to her left. From out of a door comes two Blackwing elites dragging an unconscious, naked Smart Cookie along the floor. His lacerations are deep, but they’ve been cauterized. While I’m grateful that he won’t be bleeding out, that just paints a more unpleasant picture as to what was so important about a Precursor tomb.

As Smart Cookie is dropped before me, I realize that Shokenda has revealed something to me, albeit unintentionally, that confirms my suspicions. “So you need a Precursor tomb… Not just any, though. A specific tomb, holding something you need. It’s nothing but power with you, so it has to be some sort of ancient weapon.”

“Come now, Caro. After all you’ve been through, you must know that the most powerful Precursor weapon isn’t a construct. It’s you. But what good is a weapon that doesn’t do what its wielder wishes? Then again, what good is a kingdom that doesn’t do as its leader wishes?”

“This isn’t that sort of kingdom,” I say defensively. “Equestria’s citizens aren’t pawns, and they would never bow to you.”

Shokenda tilts her head. “Really?” Her horn glows gold.

I feel like hundreds of pounds of metal have been dropped on my back. My forelegs shake and buckle. I look around and see the surrounding Blackwings are experiencing the same thing, being forced to bow to Shokenda. They give in with smiles. I struggle, forcing myself to remain standing, no matter how much the weight increases. It hurts, but not nearly as much as other things.

“You equines are but things. Rocks. Leaves. Any force strong enough to move you is dominant, and you will be subservient. You are slaves to time, age, life and death, the need to eat, the need to sleep, even your own emotions.”

“We still have control…” I growl, keeping my head up, maintaining eye contact with Shokenda. “A rock can’t want…”

“Then why should you? Platinum and the late king filled your cups with empty promises when they took control over this lawless land, and your cups ran over. The seeds of discontent were sown. I chose to be the reaper. Now I will make a better kingdom, one where there will be no wants or needs for anything other than what is already perfect.” Her eyes shine, blotting out her irises and pupils, making her seem even more emotionless. “Because there will be no wanting.”

I’m taking on a golden glow of my own, one summoned from within, accompanying a loving warmth in my heart. The combined strength of every dragon soul I’ve taken. “I… won’t… HAVE IT!!” My muzzle breaks, falling to pieces below me. I stand up, tall and proud, above all the Blackwings that surrender to Shokenda. She grits her teeth at me. ”Stop acting like your words mean anything! I didn’t come to hear you wax your pathetic hatred for my people. I came to show your loyal ones what you really are.”

“This is what I am,” Shokenda says defiantly.

I pull the cracked memory orb from my pouch. I don’t need to use Kyne’s shout just yet. All I need is this. ”You shouldn’t lie to your elders, Cloud.”

Shokenda flinches.

I throw the memory orb on the ground, summon Excalibur, raise it, point it at the orb, and bring it down. It pierces the orb, causing it to shake, more cracks appearing in the surface. This isn’t quite what I had planned, but as the cracks grow, I see a way I can make this work. I leave the orb be, dispelling Excalibur, turning around and shouting ”WULD!” I dash to the entrance, then turn around and watch as the memory orb explodes. A flash of distorted images burst from the orb, washing over the room. I back up against the door and pray to Dragos that I won’t be caught in another hour-long memory trip.

The light fades. Almost all of the Blackwings in the room have collapsed. The whole throne room is a mess of twitching ponies with bleeding nostrils. They won’t be going anywhere for a while. Shokenda, however, remains upright in her throne, having covered her face with her wing. When she pokes her head out and sees what I’ve done, she gets out of her throne. She wishes death upon me with just a stare, slowly advancing on me. I close the distance.

An unharmed Blackwing dives in front of Shokenda, forelegs planted firmly on the carpet, his sword drawn. Whatever that gesture is worth, it means nothing.

"MOVE ASIDE!" Shokenda bellows at him as I summon Excalibur back into my hoof and throw it. She swats the Blackwing away like a gnat, stomping towards me, her horn glowing with a furious overcharge.

Excalibur strikes Shokenda, plunging into her summoned shield, which falls apart as I will Excalibur's light to shine.

I break into a gallop and shout ”WULD NAH!"

I dash at Shokenda, grab the hilt of the sword, and yank it out of Shokenda's shield. I bring it back around to strike at her body, but she blocks it with a golden ethereal sword of her own. "I’m warning you. You're crossing a very thin line."

”Hasn't stopped me before, has it?!" I yell, pushing Excalibur to the limit. Sparks fly from our grinding blades.

Shokenda is pleading with me. "You don't know as much as you claim to. That Cloud is long gone. A mere shell of what she used to be. She is irrelevant. If you dare speak that name again—”

”What will you do?! Kill me?! You almost lost your toy, I doubt you want to get rid of him so soon!" Excalibur's light is shining like the sun, yet I can see through it to witness Shokenda's increasingly desperate expression. "Decide whether I’ll live or die! It won’t make a difference! It doesn't matter how many followers you still have! They know the truth! Your dream is DEAD!"

"Caro..." Shokenda purses her lips as her blade disappears into wisps.

"ALL SHALL BE LOST TO YOU!!"

The light of Excalibur consumes us both as I bring it down on top of her.

~Vision End~

Temerity clears his throat and continues. “I knew from the beginning of this civil war that Shokenda’s best option for recruits were the downtrodden of Equestria. Within a few months there was already strength in numbers, and a certain degree of respect that you don’t get from a fresh soldier in most armies.”

Tohro gestures to himself. “Blackwings don’t respect Shokenda. You can truly only respect somepony if you know their respect in return. This is feverish worship. Babies suckling at teats. It’s pathetic.”

“I agree.” Temerity raises his head and smiles. “Their minds are already like stone. Their paths are set. They will live and die by Shokenda’s command, but when this war is over, they’ll go to whatever lives await them. Hopefully, more prosperous ones.”

“Built on the graves of…” Tohro is about to go on another tirade, but he decides against it when he considers his and Temerity’s common ground. “So, if the Blackwings aren’t ideal soldiers to you, then what would be?” His eyes widen as he realizes the answer.

“A truly effective weapon must be made from a malleable material. What’s more malleable than a child’s mind?” Temerity turns a few pages in his journal. “Of course, while there are plenty who are sympathetic to our cause, children, by default, can’t grasp the full scope of a war. They start off innocent, and are corrupted by the confusion of life. We can’t give them the chance for a second opinion, so my associates and I have them put to sleep and taken from their homes. When they wake, we put them to work imme—”

Tohro smacks Temerity with the flat of his wing blade. “Tell me where to cut you next.”

Temerity sighs, puts his journal down, and presents his shoulder. “Go ahead.”

~Shae~

“AGH! STOP IT!” screams a filly as she’s shoved to the ground of the small arena by a stalwart colt. Her shoulders, chest and face are coated in bruises and cuts both fresh and old. “I’ve had enough!”

One of the Blackwings patrolling the rim of the arena shouts back at her. “This is war, soldier! There is no ‘enough!’ The enemy will not falter for your weakness!”

I watch from the balcony in horror as a dull-eyed colt plants himself over the girl and lands another hit on her, spilling blood from her mouth. “Fight back,” the boy says. It sounds more like a plea than a demand. He lands another punch.

“Save your breath, soldier. She’s a lost cause. Keep fighting.” The Blackwing rubs his eyes, taking a glance at the other watching children. Some of them are as still and lifeless as the ones we saw in the hall. Others are trembling at the ghastly sight before them. Others watch with disturbing neutrality, or even smiles. It’s a mess of discordant auras mixed with stationary ones.

The fighting boy stands up and walks away from the girl, who sobs into her forelegs as the blood continues to drop.

The Blackwing points at the boy. “I didn’t say you were done.”

“She can’t fight. I won,” the boy says in monotone. I see now that his aura is mostly stationary, but there is still a bit of fluctuation in its core, like something is trying to get out.

The Blackwing shakes his head and step down into the arena. “Two of you, retrieve her,” he says tersely, waving to the other children. Two of the more apathetic children follow his lead, surrounding the girl and picking her up. The Blackwing grabs the boy in a headlock and binds his forelegs with cuffs. “You both will spend three days in the dark room for your impudence.”

I turn to Number Six and try to disguise my shaking voice as I ask, “What is this dark room?”

“It is where the disobedient go to reflect on their mistakes,” says Number Six. “In some cases, the reflection is forced upon them. Would you like to see it?”

No. “Yes, please.”

~Vision End~

~Caro~

When the light finally fades, I see that Shokenda and I are standing in the epicenter of another disaster for the Blackwings. The throne room lies in ruins, the throne and its adjacent wall blown to shreds, half the balcony having collapsed, with several disoriented Blackwings crushed underneath piles of marble and mortar. Not enough to render the truth about Cloud inert, however; dozens of others still live, some fleeing the scene.

”Had enough yet?!" I yell at Shokenda, who has stumbled backward.

Shokenda wipes her muzzle and brushes the dust out of her mane. She's about to do the same for her armor, only to find that it's cracked beyond effectiveness. She gasps, and looks up at me just quick enough to see my hoof before it lands in her cheek.

She spits out golden blood. "You insolent..." She catches my next sword swing with her foreleg. She's still tough to break, especially now that she’s run out of patience with me. "YOL TOOR SHUL!"

The heat of a blazing inferno hits me at point blank. I feel my coat erupt into flames, my flesh burn, my face scar over, my body sent away helplessly… And in the next instant, it’s as if nothing has happened. The pain is gone and my body is no different than it was before.

“What the…”

”Caro!” Rasahrel shouts.

“What happened?” I ask, sidestepping Shokanda’s dash attack. I gallop behind one of the still-intact pillars. With a moment to breathe, I realize that I feel a little emptier, as if something has been taken from inside of me. Like an internal organ.

”Caro… We lost Hevnodiin.”

Now I feel even more empty. I slam my hoof into the pillar, letting out a growl of anguish. “DAMN IT ALL! Why him?!”

“Talking to yourself, pet?” Shokenda asks.

I emerge from behind the pillar and come face to face with Shokenda. "No. I'm communing with the souls of the damned... They're all saying you’re the insolent one. A whining child who just couldn’t stop at killing her bastard daddy. She had to take vengeance on all of Equestria for the actions of a single pony. Does that make you feel good about raping the balance of the world?”

With a flick of her head, Shokenda raises every scrap of rubble in the room, including the Blackwing corpses. “Yes.”

With a muttered “Golt su ru,” I nimbly dodge the oncoming barrage, pushing off in midair, or off the debris itself. A leaf on the breeze. "Just like your father, wanting an impossible dream... I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree if you punch it hard enough!”

Shokenda’s eyes gleam as she fires off a blast of energy. I step out of the way, only for my shoulder to be burned by another one, followed by my leg. I grab the nearest object within my reach, a floating Blackwing carcass, and hold it in front of me. It takes the force of several blasts before it becomes a blackened husk. I really wish I didn’t have to do that.

Shokenda then levitates another body and throws it at me. I’m about to use this one as a shield too, until I realize that it’s Smart Cookie’s unconscious body I’m grabbing. Just as I’m about to block another hot blast from Shokenda, I turn around in the air, and take the brunt of her attack. Smart Cookie and I are thrown across the room. He slips out of my grasp and falls to the floor. That’s all I see before I’m embedded in a pillar, the room becoming a blur as pain overtakes my head.

I call on the deep well of strength from within me and slam my forelegs into the pillar, shattering it and setting myself free. I outrun the wreckage, grab Smart Cookie, and make a heavy gallop for the throne room’s entrance. I’ve done enough here. I’ve exposed Shokenda for what she is, saved an important asset, and bought some time for the rest of Dragonrein. I’m done.

But Shokenda isn’t. She flies above me, firing beams that take chunks out of the floor. I sidestep the beams, taking scorches on my barrel along the way. I’m nearly to the door…

Shokenda lands in front of the entrance with enough force to leave a small crater. By the time I skid to a stop, her face takes up most of my vision. I raise Excalibur and point it at Shokenda. She calls back her golden sword. Our blades cross. Shokenda is right in front of me, as exposed as she’ll ever be.

”Now’s the time, Caro,” Rasahrel tells me.

“DREM OV!!” I shout.

Shokenda blinks a few times, and then concedes. She lowers her sword and steps back, leaving herself exposed. She looks surprised. Incredulous, even. It’s too perfect. I lick my lips and go in for the kill.

She casts out her hoof, catching me in a stranglehold. I gasp as my breath is denied. “Really, Caro?” she asks. “You’ve been interesting, I’ll give you that, but this is just low. Did you actually think that you’d be the first Dragonborn to try that?”

Shokenda lifts me up and throws me across the room. I black out as I feel shattering glass and cold snow embrace me.

~Vision End~

“Children ask questions,” Temerity says to Tohro. He summarizes the passages in his journal while applying pressure to the fresh wound in his shoulder. “If they don’t like their situation, they will not participate. It’s an inevitability, one that is difficult to quell without the proper authority, but what authority do we have over children that aren’t ours? Initial procedures were a disaster. The kids ran amok, treating their situation like playtime, and applying physical force would only make them more disorderly.”

“You should have stopped there,” Tohro says.

“My compatriots suggested corporal punishment but that was quickly shot down. The children would only get more rebellious the more extreme our punishments got. It was after gaining a few mages adept in rune magic that I just so happened to remember a certain insolent Blackwing’s fear of the dark.”

~Shae~

The very name of the dark room has made a small part of me shake. There is darkness beyond the edge of the Fae and I experienced it when I lost my sight. I remember thinking that no one could ever recreate it. You can’t trivialize looking into an endless abyss. The Blackwings have proven me wrong.

Number Six doesn’t act towards it, but I have a feeling that the dark room played a part in making her the way she, Ten, and Twenty-Four are now. Beyond the open iron door is a room wreathed in a wall of blackness so thick I can’t see the room’s end. Just looking in, I feel everything Tohro would feel in a cave without a lantern. It’s suffocating, lifeless, and feels like death. I feel nothing of the Fae in there.

And the Blackwings casually toss two children inside.

Toss isn’t quite the right word, though. The boy is quiet, stepping inside obediently. It’s the girl who is rightfully shrieking, flailing her hooves and biting at the Blackwing who pushes her in. “NOT THE DARK! NO, NO! PLEASE, I’LL FIGHT! I’LL DO ANYTHING! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME, DON’T PUT ME IN THERE!”

It’s spoken so quietly that I could be imagining it, but I swear I hear one of the Blackwings say, before closing the door, “I’m so sorry.”

The girl screams one more time before the door is closed, and silence follows. For a very, very long time. I don’t hear Rosemary speaking into my ear for at least a minute, and by then we’ve already left the vicinity of that accursed place.

Through the darkness, I can’t even see the girl’s aura. There is no Fae to hold her, just the empty black, even worse than death. I vow to return for her, but we cannot fight our way out of here. I will not fight children.

~Caro~

I’m surrounded by snow, buried in the dark, I smell blood, and I have no idea where up is.

Tohro had demanded that he trim my coat before we made it to Fillydelphia. I refused. I’m glad that I did, else I would be freezing cold and my body would be littered with glass. It’s an Epona-damned miracle!

“Come out, Caro!” Shokenda yells. “I will burn away everything on this coast to the ground, including you!”

I can hear her voice above me. That means I can leap straight up, and strike at her before she senses me. I adjust my body to properly prepare for wuld nah kest, but merely moving makes my cry out in distress. The glass shards have penetrated my flesh, in every leg, my barrel, and my back. It’s as if all of my joints have calcified.

”Your pain is great, Caro,” says Rasahrel. ”I can feel it. Will your movements be impaired?”

“No!” I lie, filled with rage. A single attempt at punching through the snow sends a stinging burst through my foreleg. A grunt from me tells Rasahrel all she needs to know. I’m a non-factor in this fight now… but I can’t be. Everyone’s counting on me. “I can do this!”

”You’re at your limit. We have to end this soon,” Rasahrel says firmly. “Let me take control! It may hurt, but your pain won’t stop me. I can disable Shokenda and get us out of here.”

I stop thrashing. “But that’ll put you at risk, won’t it?”

“That matters not. Either I fight for you, or you wait to die here. I shall take control, whether you want it or not!”

I’m about to scream something, but my voice changes, overlayed by her thunderous call, and my limbs move against my will. It does hurt, but not as much as it would if I were doing it myself, and I feel my full strength beneath it all. My forelegs pierce the snow, bringing the shining sun right into my eyes.

I leap out of my frozen grave and feel a thrum in my throat as Rasahrel shouts her challenge. ”False one! Goddess of lies! You are naught but a swollen cloud, heavy with your own shame and sorrow! Fight me, and pay for your treachery!”

Shokenda comes screaming at me, the snow in a flurry as it melts in her wake. “CAAAARRROOOO!” She slams her foreleg into my chest, sending me off my hooves as she grabs my head.

My lips curl into a feral grin as they form the Shout “Wuld nah kest!” I dash away from her attempt at cracking my skull, flipping in the air to land on my hooves. “The false one is powerful, yes, but not smart. Quick to anger. Certainly a child.” Rasahrel is revelling in Shokenda’s anger almost more than I was.

“Antagonizing her is my way of thinking, aren’t you the reasonable one?” Although my words don’t leave my mouth, I know Rasahrel can hear them. “That’s what got me like this in the first place.”

“I’ve been fighting false gods longer than you, little one,” Rasahrel whispers back. She moves my foreleg to recall Excalibur. “Be respectful.”

“Yes, Mom,” I jest. With that, my smile widens as we share a chuckle.

“STOP LAUGHING!!” Shokenda screeches. Her wings spread, the snow surrounding her blasting away from the gale force. She once more launches herself at me. “ZAHKRII BEL KINZ!” she shouts. Four ethereal swords appear around her, dispersing as she raises her hoof.

Excalibur blocks her attack, and she comes to a dead stop, creating another explosion of snow and wind. I continue to raise Excalibur to deny her every punch, until I hear the glint of a blade cutting the air. Rasahrel takes me away from Shokenda with a jump, dodging the first ethereal sword. My hooves swing Excalibur, swipe away the second one, and again with the third. My hoof grabs the fourth one by the hilt and brings it around, landing the blade into Shokenda’s neck and spilling her golden blood.

What starts as a cry of pain turns into a roar that shakes the ground. She disperses the blade in my hoof, blocks my next attack, and disappears in a flash, reappearing behind me. “IIZ SLEN NUS!”

Excalibur disappears. My body tenses as I try once more to use Wuld, but the words are frozen in my throat. Icicles grip my hooves, even as I rip one foreleg off the ground and reach out at Shokenda. Her breathing is ragged, deranged even. She relishes watching my movements slow, and eventually stop. Even my eyes are glazed over with ice.

She circles around me, admiring me like a statue she carved herself. “I should have used that long ago… I think that look suits you better than the constant posturing.”

My lips refuse to move, for me or Rasahrel.

Shokenda summons her black sword again, tapping it against my barrel. It bounces off the ice. “It would take time, but I can’t help but wonder how long it would take you to bleed out if I sliced you in half. Better yet…” She plants her sword in the snow. “I know wherever you are, my former plaything is not far behind.”

My Tohro is not your plaything.

“But I’ll get to him later. I never got a chance to tell you the reason why I gave up on convincing you to be my pet.” She strokes my chin with her hoof. “It was in my hopes that a greater understanding of the Thu’um would make us equals. We might understand what it is to hold dominance over the weak. But you play fast and loose with the balance of power, never meeting me on equal terms. I knew that it would be difficult to let you have any power by my side if you weren’t brought to heel...” Her face darkens. “But your insolence and belligerence has forced my hand.”

She raises her sword, golden energy swirling around it. I can’t do anything, and neither can Rasahrel. We are both prisoners within my motionless body. Except for...

“Whether this strike kills you or not, this is the end,” Shokenda says, her voice raspy and tired. “You’ll either obey or die, those are your only options. Just like everyone that has soiled this holy land!”

I summon Excalibur back to my hoof. From its light, the ice surrounding me shatters. From the instant I can move, Rasahrel and I will my aching body to charge at Shokenda. Excalibur plunges into Shokenda’s broken armor, and continues into her body. ”You were saying?” Rasahrel asks.

“You…” Shokenda says before hacking up golden blood. “...All you want… is destruction…”

“You created your own destruction. All that Caro has become, and how far you’ve fallen, is only possible because of you, Cloud.”

~Vision End~

“We dared to dream, but none of this would’ve been possible if it weren’t for a single soldier,” Temerity continues. “We found him with a slashed throat after the most recent battle of Trottingham. He was on his deathbed, but Shokenda had recently recovered an Elder Scroll that was particularly detailed in soul magic. It wasn’t the one she was looking for, so she let me have a gander at it.”

“What does this have to do with the children?” Tohro asks, tapping his blade against the table. Small drops of blood splatter onto the documents. “You’d best get back on track soon.”

Temerity nods. “Of course. All you need to know is that there was no point in lugging that Elder Scroll around if we weren’t going to use it. I had one of our wiser mages take a gander at it, and in mere moments, that soldier’s angry soul ended up in a suit of modified Olympian armor. After that, the ideas just flew to me.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with… Oh.” Tohro falters, deflating back into his chair, putting his wing blade down. “Oh.”

“What are you doing?” Temerity asks, noticing that Tohro is reaching for something else, though never taking his eyes off of him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Tohro, not once blinking, his body still but his heart pounding out of his chest, touches the hilt of Muramasa.