~Caro~

“You’re Saviikaan.”

The fake alicorn I once knew as Shokenda looks at me with empty, glazed-over eyes and speaks with the echo of a demon. “Yes.”

It’s easy to forget about a broken leg or a glass-filled body when you’re lying in front of the beast you’re destined to slay, but the revelation isn’t at all what I would expect it to be. I want to be thrilled. Relieved. Curious. More than anything, though, I just feel scared and angry. He was there, all along, tormenting me and my friends, tearing my fellow equines apart, using Cloud’s body as a vessel.

Even if I could think of something to do to express my rage, I’d be helpless to actually do it. My strength is gone from me. Nothing remains.

~Vision End~

“And then what happened?” Queen Platinum asks. Her every word and breath carries dignity, refinement, and poise, but even through all of that, Caro can see her royal stoicism take a hit from the revelation.

“Nothing. She disappeared,” Caro answers. “I mean… They disappeared… I’m still unclear as to what to call that amalgamation. The name Shokenda was merely a front.”

“From what you’ve told me, it’s apparent that Cloud is the victim. The threat is Saviikaan.”

It’s a beautiful day. The Spice family villa retains much of its former glory in the glow of a cloudless day, especially in the back garden. Birds are taking up residence by the pond, feeding on the overgrowth and the seeds falling from the untrimmed trees.

These things could be appreciated on any other day, but to Caro, he can’t find it in himself to admire the beauty of nature. He only feels a widening pit of dread in his stomach. The whole world feels fragile and empty to him, like it could all shatter with one small slip.

“You should eat something,” says Platinum. “You look absolutely destroyed.”

Caro shakes his head. “How could I eat?”

“It’s rather simple, actually. You take the food and put it in...” Platinum snickers into her hoof. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“I think you could’ve.”

“What’s wrong with a laugh in a time of crisis? And I used the word crisis very liberally. As I see it, it’s high time you did away with this dread. It’s wasted effort that could be put into preparing for what happens next.” Platinum lends Caro a gentle touch upon the cheek. “I understand. It’s easy to think that these hard revelations mean the surefire collapse of everything you know. Trust me, they don’t. A disaster occurs, you get shaken, and the rest of world moves on without you.”

“Saviikaan would have my world destroyed.” Caro looks to the graveyard beyond the garden. “And now I know how close he’s come to doing so. I can’t move on when I know he intends to strike again, and this time he won’t hide what he truly is. The Blackwings know they were lied to, so Saviikaan has no reason to pretend anymore.”

“Which also means that he can’t hide behind zealots, sans a few dragons, but I doubt they’ll be much of an issue for the Dragonborn.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, plunging a sword through Shokenda’s chest for at least a minute wasn’t enough to finish the job.” He points to Tangerine, Rosemary and Wolf River. “And I don’t feel too good about my odds of killing Saviikaan when all of us combined couldn’t save dozens of innocent children. Hell, we couldn’t even save two.”

The gravestones of Nutmeg and Cinnamon are innocuous enough. Humble stone graves for humble children, with Nutmeg’s on the left, and Cinnamon’s on the right. Their names had been carved by Tangerine, and the soil was decorated with the flowers Rosemary picked on the journey to Fillydelphia. She looks over the graves, wearing a surprisingly stoic expression. The sadness is plain to see in her eyes, but she maintains her poise.

Platinum displays a nod of sorrow for the deaths of the innocent. “Poor little ones… Still, for as many young lives were lost, I hear that hundreds of others were saved. I’ll make that known to all of Everfree after I have Temerity locked away.”

“I trust he isn’t giving your soldiers too much trouble?”

“Tohro and the turncoat Blackwings are handling him well, back in Everfree. I’m considering sending a platoon of soldiers into Fillydelphia to quietly extract any other Blackwings involved in the project. I would be fair, and give them the chance to serve the Empire as recompense for what they’ve done.”

Appreciative as he is, Caro still wears a grim frown. “Yes, irreversibly damaging children is quite forgivable…”

“Actually, if my intel is correct, their condition is quite manageable,” Platinum says with gusto.

Caro’s eyes light up as looks up at Platinum. He is then startled when Mistral and Smart Cookie emerge from behind an overgrown bush.

“It will take time,” Smart Cookie says, “but with the right alchemical ingredients, there are potions that can restore almost anything. The Blackwings took advantage of how malleable a child’s mind can be. We can do the same.”

Mistral strokes her chin and looks deviously towards Platinum. “That said, the Thieves Guild would be able to speed up the process if we were to, say, somehow procure the Imperial Legion’s stockade of curative herbs…”

Platinum exaggeratedly rolls her eyes. “That would be incredibly compromising to the Empire’s integrity. I can’t directly trade with a guild notable for its misdemeanors, you’ve already taken so much from me as it is. For example, I’m sending a caravan past Baltimare one week from now, and I fear that you’ll steal something from it.”

Mistral shrugs and turns her head, briskly walking back towards the house. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Smart Cookie looks at Platinum with awe, giving a respectful bow. “How pragmatic of you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, hello!” She puts on a coy smile and warmly approaches Smart Cookie, pulling him in for a gentle hug. She took care not to touch the cuts and burns that blemished his greying body. “It’s so good to see you, old friend. You had me and everyone else worried with your disappearing act.”

“It was all in good intentions, I swear. I was investigating this war from the shadows, stopping battles before they started, moving money where it needed to be moved. The whole of the Thieves Guild wasn’t on your side, but I made sure you had the upper hoof. Eventually, I was called up to become a Nightingale. I hoped I could have landed the Empire some legendary equipment, but that went awry when Mistral went and gave Caro your husband’s sword.”

Platinum smiles at Caro, passing an admiring glance at his hoof. “I suppose all I have left of my rainbow angel are his paintings now. Do take care of what he bequeathed to you.”

Caro crosses his heart with his hoof.

“Good boy. If you need me, I’ll be at my carriage with a cup of tea. Smart Cookie, I humbly request that you join me.” Platinum departs the garden with a swing of her cape.

“W-wait, Platinum…” Caro reaches out to her, but she’s already turning the corner.

“It can wait, Caro.”

“No, it…” Caro is left feeling like both he and Platinum haven’t said enough, but he decides against taking time away from her reunion with a long lost friend. Despite being surrounded by allies in high places, right alongside him, and within him, he feels more alone than ever. He partially attributes that to Tohro being off in Everfree, unable to say the right words to make the situation better.

He has to settle for the next best thing. “Rasahrel?” he says aloud.

“Hello, my child…” she says softly. “You’re still arun with sorrow.”

“Of course I am. People died. We failed to save Tangerine’s kids. My sworn enemy is out there, angrier than ever.” He rubs the bandages that cover much of his body. He grimaces, even though the pain from shattered glass and a broken leg is long gone.

“Your pain is mine. For so long I’ve witnessed lives be taken when they were meant to be taken, either by your hoof, or by others. I can’t remember seeing deaths so… undeserved. Preventable. If only we had, ah...”

“...Had what?” Caro blurts out. “Acted quicker? Stormed Fillydelphia on day one of this war? Butchered every potential Blackwing before the war even started?!”

“No. That is not the way. You couldn’t have solved this with genocide.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I traded one evil for another. Being helpless to cure the world is just as awful as infecting it with an evil of your own.”

Rasahrel is quiet for a moment. “Are you talking about becoming the Dragonborn? I know that you stumbled through what having such a title means, but you came out a hero. One that I would follow into the abyss.”

“Right. Only because you were forced into doing so.”

“I could have been a quiet objector, but I’m better than that. I’m not like most dragons.”

“So, what, then all of our mistakes are justifiable? Just because you might’ve thought slightly different from your ilk means that killing hundreds of ponies before now is forgivable?!”

“What… Caro, that is not who I am anymore! How is that relevant to anything?”

Caro wishes he could stop, but he has a waterfall of poorly chosen words built up and can’t stop them from flowing. “Because no matter what you do, those deaths will never be undone! You fucked up!”

“Don’t you talk to me that way! Genocide is not my wish! That feeble wish died when my body did! There is nothing left of it! It’s over!”

“It’s only over for the dead!” Caro slams his hooves onto the half-wall. Through tearful eyes, he gazes upon the graveyard. Even if the gravestones only add up to a mere dozen, they are still a dozen ponies that are no longer with the living, and judging by the numbers etched in stone, they were robbed of too many years.

“What is this really about, child?” Rasahrel speaks firmly. Caro feels her standing firm in the deepest reaches of his essence. “Do you hate me now? Or do you hate yourself again?”

“I hate…” Caro’s hooves drag along the half-wall. His fangs cut his lower lip as he bites down.

“Everything. Right now, the way things are, it’s easy to hate everything. Because you’re filled with the same self-loathing that every living being in history has felt and will feel, no matter how much good one does for themselves or others. In turn, you force that hate onto others, in a vain, distant hope that they understand how much you hurt. But it doesn’t help. It doesn’t restore what you’ve lost, or undo what has happened that hurts you.”

Caro folds his forelegs and sinks his head into them. Shrinking away, he closes his eyes and imagines the world without him.

“You don’t need to say you’re sorry. I know I’ve harmed Equestria, and I know that, in your best moments, you’d never hold that against me. What’s happening to you now is just a thought. A moment. A temporary bout of sadness expunged as shortsighted hatred. It’s okay to feel that way.”

For a second, Caro swears he can feel somepony embracing him, even though there’s nothing there.

“I know this because I still loathed myself as a dragon, and sometimes loathe who I am now. Both parts of my life, as a dragon and as a soul floating about inside you, have been filled with moments where hatred would be all that could be felt, even for the things I love. But there is a key difference between then and now. Would you like to know what it is?”

Caro whimpers and nods as he feels the distant embrace grow stronger.

“The time I’ve spent with you has been the happiest of my life. You have shown me how strong a mortal equine can be, beyond what the dovah ever thought possible. I’ve watched you save innocents, cut down the irredeemable with dignity, stand up against the unstoppable and prove that it isn’t. Every good thing I’ve seen you do makes me adore you and your fellow equines even more. You made me want to see this kingdom saved.”

A stray tear falls from Caro’s eye.

“Do you want to know why you’re a hero? It’s because you’re an inspiration. Shokenda took advantage of the feeble-minded. Temerity forced those children to join his cause. You, however, have the power to make ponies, gryphons, dragons, everyone, believe in good. Until I met you, I never knew compassion. That is a power no Dragonborn before you held in such capacity. It is a power Equestria needs.”

Caro takes one more glance at the graveyard, at Tangerine, Rosemary, and Wolf River, who all share eye contact with him. There is no malice or blame there. Sadness. Loss. Grief. But nothing held against him. And as for the grave itself, Caro never knew Nutmeg and Cinnamon, but he has a feeling that in their final moments, they were proud of defying those who would turn them against their fellow equines, and would be happy for every child set free in their wake.

Caro can’t bring himself to smile, but now that his eyes have run dry and no longer shed tears, he sits still. Quietly. He doesn’t feel the weight of guilt rise, but it feels lighter with the thought of many, many children walking free from that bunker, to be mended by the Thieves Guild, or simply sent home to their families, where they belong.

“Their wounds can heal…” Caro whispers. “I… I can try to mend mine.”

The carriage ride back to Everfree is both fast and arduous. Queen Platinum’s chauffeurs are mighty pegasi stallions, swift as the wind, flying over the fields and forests of Equestria with speed and grace. The carriage itself is lined with cushions and velvet, making for a smooth and comfortable ride, capped off with cups of sweet tea all around.

Despite the pleasantries, Everfree still feels like a world’s journey away for Caro and Shae. With how long it’s been since they lived among its prosperous citizens, the Imperial city is like some fantastical paradise they only ever dreamed of. They look at each other, sharing the same anxious expression, and confirm their mutual yearning to be with their loved ones.

Platinum finishes the last of her tea, savoring the sweet clusters of sugar from the bottom of the cup, and finishes her story. “Anyway, that was when I threw the war room at her.”

Shae and Smart Cookie both nearly spit out their tea. Shae swallows her mouthful and giggles. “The whole war room?”

“How is that even possible?” Smart Cookie asks.

“Those seats aren’t as bolted down as they look, and I had a hearty breakfast that day. Anyway, heaving a table, several lamps and the aforementioned rows of seats at Jarl Drake was enough to make her run for the hills. I didn’t see her again until the most recent summit.”

“You made quite the impression, it seems.”

“On her face. One can imagine how much the crisis would have escalated if I had broken something. Well, aside from the Empire’s bond with a central trading hub, which led to an inflation in price for basic amenities...” Platinum lowers her cup. “I made myself sad.”

Shae waves her hoof. “It’s all amended, just don’t throw a room at somepony when they mess up. As tempting as it may be.”

“The relationship is amended; those years where an entire day’s effort could barely buy a bag of oats for one will never disappear. I have a mountain’s worth of debt to repay, and you’ve helped me with a small portion of that by uncovering Temerity’s plot.”

Shae has a look out the window. The white towers of Everfree can be seen in the distance, although to her, Everfree looks like a collection of shapes and glowing auras. However, the shapes are familiar, and the auras match the prosperous city she knows. A wistful smile crosses her muzzle. “How long have we been gone?” she asks.

“Long enough,” Caro answers. “Longer still for you, right, Smart Cookie?”

“You disappear for over a decade and they change everything.” Smart Cookie is the only one in the carriage who doesn’t greet Everfree with happiness. The carriage lowers onto the bridge. The gate opens, welcoming the carriage into the city. Smart Cookie takes in the surroundings, and despite its beauty, still sees fit to scoff. “You seriously lined the streets with gemstones.”

“Do you have any idea how much a ruby is worth nowadays?” Platinum asks. “Equestria is full of gems. Even if you collected the entirety of the gemstones leading from this street up to the Rainbow Palace, the exchange rate would amount to little more than a cheap breakfast.”

Smart Cookie pays mind to the hoof in his mouth and shrugs. “I see… Well, they are quite pretty.”

The carriage suddenly slows to a crawl, causing everyone inside to lurch forward. The wheels screech along the road as they come to a stop, and the pegasi up front whinny in surprise.

Platinum looks out the window, checking the signs. “Baker Street? I haven’t set hoof here in years…” She leans outside the carriage and whistles to the pegasi. “I don’t take kindly to a stop and go, dears, I hope you know that! The royal vessel has the right of way, always!”

“Our apologies, Your Majesty,” says one of the pegasi, who detaches his reins and trots to the window. He quickly bows to Platinum and gestures up ahead. “It seems a mob has broken out.”

The queen purses her lips. “Excuse me?”

The pegasus clears his throat and chuckles. “N-Not an angry mob, I assure you! It’s something of an… impromptu party.”

Smart Cookie rolls his eyes. “Oooof course.”

Only now do the occupants of the carriage notice the cheers and laughter coming from up ahead, along with the sounds of pounding drums and woodwind instruments. It’s a jovial cacophony. Caro, Shae and Smart Cookie all stand up and disembark the carriage, stepping into the radiant sunlight.

~Shae~

At first, I held a tinge of remorse, knowing that I wouldn’t behold Everfree’s radiance with my own eyes, but it didn’t last long. Now, I remember that I’m the only unicorn in history to see the world through the eyes of Fauste, and only I can behold the glowing, vibrant auras of Everfree. These colors, these lights, they are more alive than any night sky I’ve ever seen through a telescope, and far more numerous than anything I saw in the fields of Equestria, or in Fillydelphia. As I pass by these auras, wisps rise from the ponies who behold them and become one with me, filling me with a warm, small surge of strength. It’s just what I need, after all I’ve been through.

“Miss Shae!” A young chef I’ve never met before approaches me, carrying a basket of edible goods. “It’s so good to see you! When did you get back?”

I point to Her Majesty’s carriage. “About twenty paces ago, actually. What can I do for you?”

The chef grins brightly and, using his horn, levitates a pastry out of his basket. “Nothing, I just wanted to give you this. It’s Prench bread cut thin, dipped in cinnamon-sugar and lightly braised. Your daughters, that is, the princesses, they absolutely love it.”

I take a hearty bite out of the breadstick. I haven’t had anything this sweet in months. I devour the rest and give the chef repeated nods of approval. I swallow quickly and ask, “Do you have any more?”

“In time! Back in a flash!” The chef dashes away.

Much of this party continues in that fashion. I’m recognized by dozens, given free food by many, and I’m not the only one partaking in the pleasantries. From rich to downtrodden, everyone seems to be enraptured by this sudden get together. Just as I start to question why, I notice a line of dancers in the middle of the street, who are the center of everypony’s attention. It takes me longer than it should for me to realize that those are royal guards making up the majority of the dancers. What a hoot!

And then I see two familiar faces leap out from the armored ensemble; Tohro does a backflip out of the center, twirling before he hits the pavement and drifts to a stop, followed by Puddinghead, who tumbles into a dramatic slide, throwing a bundle of confetti into the air.

Then comes somepony who makes my heart leap. I see her royal golden aura before she appears. My Celina rises from the crowd, wings spread wide, shooting off a gentle flash of light from her horn, before curling up and falling to the ground, landing with graceful, elegant poise between Tohro and Puddinghead.

Just as I wave to grab her attention, she leaps into the air again with a flip, and from below, I see another powerful aura, this one like a glowing night sky. Luna comes out, gliding along the pavement with her forelegs outstretched. She’s grown exponentially compared to when I last saw her. She’s just short of Celina in terms of size, and going by her laughter, her voice has deepened too.

She notices me, gasps, and falls flat on her face.

My instincts kick in. I rush past everypony else and go to Luna, picking her face off the ground. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

Luna rises and wiggles her head. She has a little scratch on her muzzle, which I do away with by a simple touch of my hoof.

“Boop,” I say, before seizing Luna, kissing her forehead, and holding her close with all my might. Divines will it, I will never let her go.

“Mother, you embarrass me,” Luna mutters. She’s lying.

Celina comes to me. Her mane has become ethereal, its natural pink joined by a bright blue. It looks just as brilliant as it did when I still had my own eyes. She greets me with a dignified bow. “Mother, welcome home.” When she rises, I hear the first sign of oncoming tears. She wipes them away and says, with a hushed choke, “I-I missed you…”

I levitate her to me by her forelegs. She falls into my embrace with Luna as I pull her in, bringing both my daughters against me.

“I’m here.”

~Vision End~

~Rosemary~

“You’re leavin’?!” I exclaim.

My mother drops her satchel and immediately stands to attention. She didn’t intend to leave her bedroom door slightly ajar, but she did, and a passing glance was all I needed to know why she was stuffing rations and spare clothes into a bag, alongside Wolf River.

“She was going to tell you, uh…” Wolf River sets his axe down alongside a collection of spare swords. He raises his eyebrow and looks at Mum. “When were you going to tell her?”

Mum sighs and resumes packing. She should not be this calm… Maybe calm isn’t the right word. She is definitely determined, but she also looks defeated. This isn’t what she’s supposed to look like.

“Mum?” I ask, stepping into her room and brandishing a pleading frown. “Tell me what’s goin’ on? What’s happenin’?”

She folds a wool scarf and packs it away.

“Mum.”

She does the same with the cape I stitched for her when she came home on her first leave from the Imperial Legion. She only stayed for three days…

That bitter memory makes me tense up and clench my teeth. “Tangerine!”

She looks at me, and I look back at her. I’m so used to there being this distance between us, like we can be in the same room yet still be hundreds of miles apart, like usual. This is different. We’re on different planes of reality now.

It’s only her sudden urge to hit the road that’s new here. It’s been a few weeks since we got back from Fillydelphia, and we’ve had time to heal. Not nearly enough time, but just enough to close old wounds, as well as some new ones.

The new ones…

“I hear you cry at night,” Mum mutters. “Do you dream about them too?”

I can't help it as my hackles rise and tears threaten to spill. "'Course I do," I choke out, a bit more forcefully than I'd intended. "After Daddy died, and you took his place as general, it was always just us three." My ears fold back, and I give her a little smile. "Most of my best memories were spent watchin' ‘em grow."

“And I wasn’t there for any of it.” She shivers, as if shaking cold water out of her fur, and then shows an apologetic look. "I should’ve been here. If I'd just swallowed my pride sooner, and come home, I could have saved them. I could've helped you. I could've done somethin’. Could’ve, should’ve, could’ve…” She steps forward. “Listen. I don't blame you for this. You did everythin’ you could to find them, and where was I, the cold, distant mother... Bah. That’s too kind. I was no better than a broodmare towards you."

I glance away, my chest tightening a bit more; there's not much to say. I could resort to platitudes, but none would change the truth. We're both too stubborn to blame each other, and we can't take back the years of hurt between us. Not in one night.

"Well, now you get it.” I turn in place and march out the room. I need to be angry about this. If I hold anything in, my stomach will rupture. “At least I don’t need need to forget what it’s like to watch somepony leave.”

“Rosemary!”

“The ones you wanted are dead, so what the hell else matters?!”

~Vision End~

Platinum strolls down the halls of the Rainbow Palace, alongside Shae and Tohro. “Thanks for your punctuality,” she says to them. “I know that there’s nowhere you’d rather be than relaxing in your rooms, but there is one last thing that needs to be done before we put this whole Temerity business to rest.”

“Has a punishment for him been decided?” Tohro asks.

“He will be locked away in an Imperial cell in the mountains under strict surveillance from high ranking Imperial soldiers. My husband built it to hold the most provocative criminals, if they were ever too valuable to kill. Temerity will be its first occupant.”

“Wait. Valuable?” Shae asks. “Since when is Temerity worth anything?”

“He is worth something to the Blackwings. If we had his head, he’d become a martyr, and would serve as provocation for them to do the same to us. He’s almost as valued as Shokenda is… Well, was. I’m not sure what consequences will arise from the truth.”

The light of the stained glass windows seems a little less colorful just at the thought of Saviikaan in the flesh.

“It makes every victory against the Blackwings seem paltry,” Tohro says.

Platinum steps in front of Tohro and touches his shoulder. “I can’t have you becoming a worrywort, that’s my job.” She returns to her walking. “The point is, Temerity will have the rest of his life in a stone cell to think about what he’s done.”

Shae remembers how putrid Temerity’s aura was, and it makes her grimace. She can’t imagine the world being cleansed of his crimes in any amount of mortal years, no matter how extreme the punishment.

Tohro hesitates to follow, pondering the queen’s decision. “Whoever guards him should wear non-military armor. We don’t want to draw his sympathizers’ attention…” He puts a pin in that notion when he hears the shuffling of armored hooves. He can make out a blurred crowd of soldiers through the stained glass window. “Did I miss a drill?”

“No. I’ve called together an assembly. I think it’s time my soldiers know what they’re up against.”

~Caro~

I peek through the curtains. The stage is empty, but not for long. Platinum will be out there soon, speaking to hundreds of soldiers, telling them a horrible truth. How is one pony meant to bequeath such horrors without a massive demotivation? Or worse, instill panic in their hearts and weapons? Tohro once told them to hold on to their fear, yet not let it control them… What if this is what pushes them over the edge? What if this results in another few years of paranoia and betrayal among our own kind? One of the many things Dragonrein stood up against, brought back in a single speech. It’ll be exactly what Saviikaan wants.

Captain Gauntlet and Tohro show Platinum the list of arrivals. “It’s nearly a full attendance. Even the sick and injured have risen from their beds just to hear about this.”

“What did you expect? Nothing less, I would hope.” Tohro looks over the list with a proud smile. I take a peek as well, realizing that hundreds might be an understatement. His smile is at least a little bit of a comfort, especially when he keeps sneaking glances at me.

“What did you tell them?” I ask Platinum, in a noticeably nervous voice. My concern is hard to hide at this point.

And yet, she shrugs it off. “I simply made it known that Dragonrein has returned to Everfree and this war has changed.”

That is not assuring. “For the worse, or for the better?”

“There is no ‘better’ war, my dear. But that is for you to decide, really.”

This is going to be a shitshow of historical proportions, I just know it. The soldiers will find out about Saviikaan, they’ll be shaking in their boots, they won’t be ready for what lies ahead, I can’t watch this. I turn away from my friends and the queen, hellbent on getting out of here.

I’m held back by Platinum’s hoof. “What is it?” I ask her.

Platinum casts a slow, grim glance at me. “Do not be this way. This is happening. I am going to tell my soldiers what Shokenda truly is. I can’t, and won’t, spare any details. Are you sure there’s nothing else I should know?”

I swallow. I’m reluctant to bring up the revelation again, but I know it’s for the best. “I’ve already told you everything. Saviikaan, through some means, possibly an Elder Scroll, merged with Cloud and twisted her body into an abomination that he used to maintain the illusion of equine godhood. Whether or not Cloud wanted that in the first place, I don’t really know.” I shy away, rubbing one foreleg against the other anxiously. “I don’t want to know. But she doesn’t want it anymore, that’s for certain.”

“Hmph.” Platinum leans back against her carriage seat. An intense shadow is cast upon her face.

I lean in close, hunching over and looking Platinum in her jaded eyes. “Your Majesty.” I clasp my hooves together. “Please, tell me what I should do.”

“It’s not about what I would have you do. I care not for the how. What I care about is what you’re willing to do.” Platinum hides her grief with a stiff expression and a decisive tone. “That said, if you must have orders, I will keep it simple: Do everything you can to end my granddaughter’s suffering.”

The words strike me like a knife to the gut. My hoof scrapes the carpet as I wrestle over a disturbing thought. Smoke and embers on the battlefield. Hundreds of soldiers torn apart. The dying body of a young, weak mare, a golden soul of the Reclaimer himself rising from her open chest, the blade of Excalibur buried into it… Excalibur. “Wait!”

For the first time in what feels like forever, I stop thinking. Instead of running away, I gallop to the curtain, lightly push Platinum aside and step out onto the stage. It’s like being assaulted by a wall of eyes and murmurs, which quickly rises into a wave of applause. I can only look at it for so long before I’m bombarded by conjured spotlights from the sages in the rafters.

It’s a fast, overwhelming burst of adrenaline, but so unlike the kind I receive in combat. I’m held stock still instead of moving on my own, and whatever words I thought I’d say in the split-second I made this decision are nowhere to be found.

The applause continues for a while. I even hear the pierce of whistling from soldiers on the upper balcony. They’re happy to see me. They’re not judging. They want me to be out here.

I can hear hoof pounding that’s almost tribal in nature. A particularly tightknit group of soldiers in the front row are pumping their hooves at me, performing a war chant. “Dragonborn! Dragonborn! DRAGONBORN! DRAGONBORN! SKOL! SKOL! SKOL! SKOL!”

“Uh,” I thrust my hoof into the air, “SKOL!” I shout, having no idea what that means.

They pound the ground and yell triumphantly.

And then, with a wave of my foreleg, they all quiet down. This is surreal. Trained soldiers following my lead. They respect me. I’ve never seen this much reverence in such concentration before. I wish Master could see me now. He’ll want to hear all about this when I finally find time to visit Neigh Hrothgar.

The problem now, again, lies with words. I think my speech to the people of Fillydelphia doesn’t really apply here, and I can’t willingly look death in the face so I can summon another almost-eulogy.

So, I decide to play my best card early. I swing my hoof upwards and summon Excalibur.

After a synchronized gasp, there’s another explosive roar of cheers and applause.

“Y-Yes, thank you, thank you!” I twirl my sword and rest the tip on the stage floor. “You all know what this is. The blade of kings, the highest honor bestowed by Hephaestus himself. This is Excalibur, as entrusted to me by the Late King Hurricane, may he reign the eternal sky.” I take a moment to breathe. I think I can do this. “With it bound to my…” I clear my throat. “With it bound to my very being, I took it upon myself to advance into Shokenda’s demesne.”

I hear a few hisses and boos as soon as I say her name.

“Meanwhile, my friends in Dragonrein, as well as the former general Tangerine, stepped into the shadows of Fillydelphia and freed hundreds of children from the horrible experiments of Temerity Blackwing.”

“Y’ALL SAVED MY SONS!!” a soldier in the back yells. My heart skips a beat just hearing that.

“You’re welcome!” I shout back, pointing Excalibur in his general direction. “But that wasn’t the only thing that came out of the rescue operation.” I rest the sword on my shoulder. Feeling the comforting presence of Rahsarel brush against my thoughts, I give my most confident grin to those gathered. "Bravest ones, I have grand news for you. You’ve tested your mettle against corruption outside and inside Everfree’s walls. You’ve bled for the lives of others. You’ve lost for the sake of the innocent’s gain. The Blackwings fear your sturdy, unwavering might. Despite that, you’ve probably all asked yourselves the same thing I asked myself when my parents died for this empire, and for many days since as I fought for the weak, felling Blackwings and dragons alike. I asked myself, ‘where does this story of blades and blood end?’.”

I have them hanging on my every word. I delve forward, giving Excalibur a practiced swing as I walk the stage.

"I met Shokenda in her own house of vanity and ignorance. I fought her until my body burned and my bones cracked. Yet, I did not yield. And for my refusal to give in to her power fantasy, I learned that she was never as we once thought she was. During one of our many conflicts, I learned that she can bleed.” I thrust Excalibur forward, to the excited cheers of the soldiers. “Then, I learned that with enough force, and the power of many dragons at my side, I could inflict lasting wounds upon her, proving that she is no true immortal alicorn. Then…”

I pause. Two paths lay before me. One of them is the disturbing notion of the false alicorn being Platinum’s granddaughter. The other is the even more disturbing revelation, that her body is being used by Saviikaan as a vessel, creating the being known as Shokenda.

I decide to appeal to the Imperial Legion with a promise of a powerful final foe, feeding on their lust for a challenge. No doubt many of them expect this war to end with a bang, so I’m going to give that to them. “In a moment of life and death, I saw firsthoof that Shokenda is merely a husk. An empty shell. What’s been bled by the sword of kings, what was once a symbol of fear made a symbol of lies and vanity, is the lord of all dragons. The Reclaimer. The one who once ruled this land one-thousand years ago. Shokenda is Saviikaan.”

I can't really help it, the looks of surprise on some of the soldiers' faces just makes me laugh, and I can feel the dragons within me laughing along.

"Yes, I've already fought the decrepit lizard to a standstill twice, both times without even realizing how powerful he supposedly was. And that, unfortunately for him, has made him weak. For what reason he has to take on this form, I do not know, but he has now been made the fool. All of Fillydelphia knows the truth, and now, so do you. The truth being that our nightmares will be slain, and this war will end." I give a draconic smirk at the shocked and awed faces before me. I impale Excalibur into the stage floor. “When Shokenda is cut down by my blade, Saviikaan will be cut down with her. I will bring peace to Equestria in a single thrust. That is my promise to you.”

I feel like I just shattered glass, this time in a good way. This glass was smudged. Dusty. Filthy. Now it’s gone, with only a few pieces to clean up in the midst of a pleasant breeze. Judging by the pleasantly loud cheers of the Imperial Legion, I’m not going to be alone. But I knew that already. I’m never alone.

“Beautifully spoken, little one,” says Rasahrel. “Don’t mess up your exit.”

“Because I was planning on tripping for giggles,” I snark at her, making one last flourish with Excalibur and willing it away. Rasahrel is right to be concerned, though; suddenly I feel dizzy. What happened?

I go back behind the curtain. Tohro and Shae are beaming at me, and Gauntlet is expressing a surprising amount of respect, but it’s Platinum who catches me off guard. She’s completely aghast. “The nerve of you!” she exclaims.

“Whatever dirt is on my hooves, I’m sure it’ll wash out of your robe,” I say with a drunken chuckle.

Platinum’s frown intensifies. “No, I mean… How dare you! I spent days articulating my speech and there you go, in addition to dirtying the royal adornments, trumping every single word I had written down.” She pulls a few cards out of her robe and tosses them away. “Somepony pick those up.”

Shae levitates them off the ground with ease. “Their auras are nearly blinding, Caro. Everything beneath the stage is like a warm fire.”

Gauntlet looks at Tohro. “And it’ll be our responsibility to keep it burning. We have our work cut out for us.”

Tohro salutes. “I suggest we take advantage of this boost in morale and send every able-bodied soldier to the training grounds. Double the usual routines. Work them until their muscles scream. They’ll be sore, but they’ll be happy.” He points at me as I start snickering. “Shut up. And maybe we should have Caro there as a demonstrator, showing them what a berserker can do in the heat of battle.”

“Good idea, good idea,” I say, nodding a few too many times. “But, uh, can I make one request first?”

“What is it?”

The room shifts and tilts, as do I. My legs buckle. “Catch me?”

“Woah!” Tohro leaps forward and locks his forelegs underneath mine. I’m stopped before my back hits the floor. I look up at Tohro’s face, which is still beautifully welcoming even when it’s upside-down. “Hon, don’t scare me like that.” He peers into me, probably taking notice of my sunken eyes. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Good question.”

“Oh, Fauste,” Shae slaps her hoof to her forehead. “Caro, I know it’s easy to forget basic needs in turbulent times, but you can’t do that. Even when I was taking care of baby Luna, I found time to sleep… eventually.”

“You’re confined to your room for the next twelve hours, Dragonborn,” Platinum commands. That’s the last thing I remember before the overwhelming relief I feel blankets me in a deep slumber. I’ve never slept better in all my life.

Shame that such a peaceful rest has to be interrupted. Something stirs me from sleeping the rest of the night away. With a groan and a smack of my lips, I look around the bedroom for anything that could have caused this.

It’s hard to see anything. The clouds have rolled in, covering the moon and bathing everything in darkness. A black, peaceful night for Everfree, hopefully one of many to come. What do I have to be awake for? I’d rather just curl back up beneath the heavy covers, next to Tohro.

I lie back down and scoot over to Tohro, my bulk acting as a second blanket for him. The day has been long for him too, and it won’t be the last. I’ll try to treasure the time I can spend with him, but it will be difficult. We both need to spend time preparing for what lies ahead. That means I’ll continue saving Equestria from Saviikaan’s minions, and he’ll be a leader to the Imperial Legion. Strength and order, that’s who we are.

Just as I’m about to close my eyes and fall asleep to the sound of his breath, I hear a soft, childlike voice by the door. “Caro.”

I shoot back up again. The source of the voice is a small, hooded unicorn with heavy greaves. He takes off his hood to reveal a long black mane. It might just be the heavy darkness, but it seems as though he is one with the shadows.

“Boysenberry?” I ask in a whisper.

The dark child comes into view. Indeed, it is him, but he looks much older and worn than a kid should be. He was already rather like a shadow when I first met him, but now it’s as though he’s become a demon himself. The acid-green tinge to his eyes does not help in that regard.

He nods to the door. “Come with me.”

I do as he requests, albeit with a yawn. The halls of the Rainbow Palace are not as impressive under the blanket of a dark night, though I have an inkling that Boysenberry welcomes it.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whisper.

He coughs sarcastically. “That’s a laugh.”

“I’m serious. Where did you run off to?”

“Nowhere in particular. I couldn’t associate with ponykind after what happened at the gorge. I needed to be alone for a while.” He holds out his hoof, allowing more of the darkness to cloud around it. “I can’t be exposed to such violence. It’s just one of many things that allows it to take over.”

“It picked a piss-poor time to latch onto somepony.”

“Disagreeable. It couldn’t have picked a better time. It’s getting precisely what it wants me to give into. Anger. Aggression. Loathing. It’s easier for me to pick up than most and Equestria is a goldmine of it all. Until recently.” He sniffs at the air. “The darkness is still here, but it has grown weaker, and I know that it had to be Dragonrein that did away with it. So, for the moment, I have returned.”

“For what reason?”

Boysenberry stops before the entrance to the war room. “The same reason I talked to you when you came to Equinesreach. What started my investigation into the dragons in the first place.” He opens the door.

“The very reason I was revealed as Dragonborn,” I think aloud.

Boysenberry shepherds me over to the central table. “Many answers have been revealed to us, but one loose thread remains.” He reaches into his bag and places a wrapped object on the table. He removes the cloth, revealing what appears to be a simple grey stone… Oh, it’s an egg.

I look over the egg. It hasn’t changed at all since I last saw it, if my memory serves. “Right, right, you were looking into this. It never hatched, huh?”

“Obviously. There are passive, natural seals imbued within the egg. It can’t be broken. It can only hatch… Except, for some reason, it hasn’t. And I think I know why.” He pushes the egg towards me.

I’m lost already. I gesture at Boysenberry, urging him to continue.

“Dragon children for dragon parents, perhaps,” he explains. “This isn’t a bird egg, where warmth and stability are all that’s needed. From what you’ve done, I’ve learned that draconic bodies and souls are far more separated than any other being. A dragon’s body is merely a vessel, and there are means for the soul to migrate between bodies. In your case, as Dragonborn, you destroy a dragon’s body and take its soul. In Saviikaan’s case, he uses his innate powers as the ruler of all dragons to wake a dormant soul. He is the only one who can do this.”

“I met a reanimated dragon,” I add.

“Was his undeath a necromancer’s doing?”

“Yes.”

“His soul would still be dormant. If the spell ever wore out, the dragon’s body would drop dead on the spot. Anything reanimated is just an echo of what it used to be. It can’t become more than it ever was. Dragons are different, essentially immortal, always learning, always growing. Is it any wonder they’re so strong?”

I feel Rasahrel take control of my mouth. “But all the more years to fill our heads with doubt. Any living being becomes jaded as time goes by. Imagine what it’s like for us.”

Boysenberry is taken aback by the sudden addressal by a dragon. “Okay, hello,” he says with an awkward wave. “You must be one of his souls.”

“I am my own soul; I merely give myself willingly to the child.”

Boysenberry waves his hoof back and forth. “Well, consider me jealous.” He grimaces as more plumes of dark energy rise from his body. It looks like the sort of quiet pain a sick dog would go through. “S...so, what can you tell us about this egg, if I might ask?”

“You are correct about our souls, and yes, they play a large part in our birthing process.” She takes my hoof and graces the curvature of the egg. “This poor thing is of a dragon’s womb, yes, but it is long lost to its original parent. A large amount of draconic essence is required to hatch an egg, and this one has barely enough to keep its contents alive.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing it hatch before I leave Equestria for good.” Boysenberry pushes the egg at me again. “Imagine it, Caro. It’s one thing to have a dragon change sides, but to have a dragon that, with your guidance, will serve ponykind from birth. What do you think?”

“Good question,” I say, taking back control. “You should know by now, I’m not fond of imposing loyalty on anyone, especially an infant. Origins only matter so much when it comes to choosing a side, or just staying out of a conflict altogether. Think about where I came from. When my parents were killed, I hated the Empire, and this war for taking them away from me, and I distanced myself from all who would associate with those things. And yet, here I am now, serving the Empire as a free agent, free of hatred, no longer a bringer of death, but a symbol of hope.”

Boysenberry nods.

“Tohro was among the Blackwings’ most celebrated assassins, but in one instant defied the so-called god he worshiped, just for me. Then he signed on with the Empire, and is determined to see that false god struck down. Same case for the dragons within me. They’ve chosen to be my allies.”

“Okay, I hear you.”

I pull up a chair and take a seat, leaning forward and looking Boysenberry in his glowing eyes. “Should one blind themselves to all other possibilities beyond what they were told to believe, or should they listen and choose the options beyond their origins?”

Those glowing eyes blink. Boysenberry paces around the war table, muttering to himself. He comes to my side as another plume of darkness comes out of him. “I know a thing or two about being born on the wrong side.” He looks at the egg. “The difference between me and them is that they’d have a choice. Still, no matter what you do, they will latch on to ponykind in some capacity.”

“They will still be a dragon with more choices than any born into Saviikaan’s grip.” I touch the egg, claiming it gently in my hooves. “So, these natural seals… Do you think I’m dragon enough to dispel them?”

“I anticipate greatly the answer.” Boysenberry gives me the go-ahead with a nod and a point. “It’d be nice to behold the miracle of birth. Watch something come into this world, instead of watching everything fall apart.”

I hold the egg close to me and close my eyes, trying to do away with all of my senses just to focus on this single object. I feel my hair rustle and my skin crawl, as my golden essence comes to the surface, traveling in streams along my forelegs.

“How are you doing that?” Boysenberry asks.

I don’t answer for fear of breaking focus, but I know how. I’m simply calling upon my own power for once; not that of any dragon’s. I want this egg to hatch by my hooves, nopony else’s. Even though my bloodlust has dwindled and my world has brightened, I still am guilty of taking more than I’ve given. With this opportunity, I can create something new. Holding on to that happy thought, I instill life into something without it.

Some of my essence leaves me. I open my eyes and see the egg glowing gold. I can feel it trembling, just barely. “There,” I say, putting it back on the table.

For a moment, I see the happy court wizard I once knew in a twinkle in Boysenberry’s eye. “Oh, Divines,” he says with baited breath. “This is it…”

The egg cracks at the tip as its vibrations intensify. The fissures grow in size and length until they circle the length of the egg from top to bottom. Light shines from the inside, seeping out in uneven shafts, like the sun breaking through thick clouds. The wait is terrible, until…

The egg falls apart and the light dwindles, revealing what I expected, but also something more. Two baby dragons, one with silver scales, the other with shimmering black ones, awaken among the broken remains of their former prison. To think that such small things could become the size of houses…

“Hi,” I say quietly to the little ones, grabbing their attention. Their reptilian eyes are different from mine or any other dragon’s I’ve seen, except for Master’s. These are the eyes of dragons who have hope, who have a chance to be anything other than a force of destruction.

They crawl to me, tripping over each other and their own wings. They make throaty, crackling sounds that I think were attempts at roaring, or saying hello back. They’ll learn in time.

“Best name them sooner than later, Caro,” says Rasahrel. “There are many dragons that stood up against Saviikaan before the infestation. I could suggest some of their names.”

She doesn’t need to. I knew their names as soon as they hatched.

~Vision End~

~Rosemary~

Tomorrow, Mum will be long gone with Wolf River, leaving behind the entire villa, along with the rest of our heritage. I'll be the last Spice in Equestria.

This is what I wanted. I wanted a life of independence, apart from my family, unburdened by familial ties, free to forge my own story. How does it feel, Rosemary? Was it everything you hoped for?

I punch the couch pillows until my hooves threaten to blister. Like the answer isn’t obvious. That freedom means nothing if I don’t have a home to return to, or siblings to make proud…

Well, fine. If Mum wants to leave me, then I’ll spare her a tearful goodbye. I won't let her have it. In a flash, I get off the couch, throw on my mail, jacket and fedora, grab my falchion and toolkit, pack some food, and gather up what I have left of Shae's potions.

As I approach the front door and prepare to beeline it for Everfree, I hear Mum and Wolf River quietly talking upstairs. Mum laughs a little at something he said. That makes me back away from the door. This was a mistake.

They’d hear the front door open and shut and come after me. I should leave through the back.

I make my way to the other door, cutting through the kitchen and running through the back hallway. I open the back door slowly, then pull it shut. I take a deep breath, and make a break for it through the overgrown garden.

My heart starts to pound. I’m not sure why. Is it grief? That makes sense. Am I scared? Definitely. I’m escaping from home again, there’s always been a bit of fear in that. Excitement? I do have a shop waiting for me in Everfree, along with Shae… I need that beautiful unicorn. She’s the only constant in my life anymore. And I have Mum’s blessing. There’s no guilt in us getting married soon as we lay eyes on each other again.

Just as I get to the graveyard, a large black figure lands in front of me. "Hello, Rosemary,” it says in a beastly voice.

I halt and back away, pulling out my falchion and triggering its flame enchantment. The graveyard is illuminated, as is the lycan in front of me. Short fur. It’s Mum.

She turns back into a pony. “I could smell you runnin’,” she says, briskly walking up to me.

I stick my flaming sword in the dirt. “I’m an adult. I can leave if I want to.”

Mum approaches me. Even without her armor or weapons, hell, even without her wolfen form, she still overpowers me in presence. I squint my eyes in anticipation for a scathing, but it doesn’t come. I realize that all of her intimidation is nowhere to be found today. Instead, she wraps her forelegs around my neck and pulls me in for a hug. "I know you are," she says.

And now the thrill of leaving has abandoned me. Now all I have left is sympathy for her, and all she’s gone through. “You’re probably tired of hearin' this, but… Are you okay?” I ask.

“I should be asking you that.” When the hug breaks, I look into her eyes. They’re firm. "I'm better than okay. I have the greatest daughter anypony could ask for."

“Liar,” I say with a smirk. It quickly fades away. I say I’m an adult, but some immature part of me still feels betrayed. Something about this feels like reverse psychology. “N-no, I’m serious, don’t say that! Please don’t be okay with me leaving… Oh, Hephaestus, I’m such a…” I cover my eyes as I feel the tears coming again. I thought I had none left. “You’re allowed to leave... I’m not! That’s how it’s supposed t-to work!”

“You and I both know that nothing about our family worked. I was sent to fill an empty space no one could live up to. I never listened to what you wanted out of life. I tried to keep my children pacifists in a time of war. I traipsed about with a band of mercenaries instead of taking responsibility for my failures. The only thing that worked in this broken mechanism was you.”

I point to myself, making sure I’m still within my own body. “Me?”

“You believe in heroes, and fashioned yourself in the image of one. You haven’t quite been a paragon, but don’t think I didn’t hear about a number of arrests in Baltimare at your hoof, or what you did for the students of Wintercolt Academy. Not to mention…” She glances over to a certain set of graves I dare not look at. She then gazes upon her home, for once without pride. "This place is dead to me. I can't ask you to fill it with traditions I've forced upon you for so long. You did the right thing, disobeying my orders. If you hadn't... We never would have gotten close as we did to saving Cinnamon and Nutmeg." She grimaces, though she doesn't lose her smile for long. "I don’t want you to uphold our family’s legacy anymore. You have your own legacy already.”

“Stop…” I mutter.

Mum leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “You have my blessing to go.” She strokes my cheek. “Wolf River and I are leaving Equestria forever. What happens next is your choice.”

I grab her hoof with my own. “You don’t have to! Just because I never listened to you doesn’t mean I never wanted you here!” I find myself hyperventilating a little. “I, I, I…” I can’t stop. “I thought you, you, you were joking, I…!”

“Breathe deep, soldier.”

I stop talking and do as Lady Tangerine commands. I breathe, and let my heart slow to a calm pace. Then, I speak. “I’m sorry. For everything. I wish I could’ve been better to you.”

“I feel the same. I know I didn’t show it, but even though you came along sooner than I expected, even though I didn’t properly plan for you, I never once doubted my feelings. I love you, Rosemary.”

I nod, swallowing back any sobs that want to escape. I feel strong enough to look at Nutmeg and Cinnamon’s gravestones. I then take in one final look at my mother. She isn’t how I always knew her, but as she is now, she’s more real to me than ever.

There’s really nothing more to say. I lift the falchion out of the ground and start walking, using its flames as a lantern. The first steps of many into a new and familiar world.

As I descend the hill and Mum disappears from sight, I pass by another gravestone. This one is a finely carved square slab, with etchings of swords embedded into its majesty. And the name in its center is one I know well.

“Goodbye, Daddy.”

~Vision End~

~Caro~

I pet the newborn dragons, pleasantly surprised at their innocence, and their desire to be close to me. I look up from them and speak to Boysenberry firmly. I’m going to be a rock on this one. “Their names are Nutmeg and Cinnamon.”

Boysenberry, being on the outside of that brief conversation, looks at me oddly. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” I stroke the chin of the white one, Nutmeg, then the black one, Cinnamon, as they crawl closer. “Two good soldiers who gave their lives fighting oppressive forces that even the most hardened veterans would’ve caved under. They died with swords in hoof.”

“Really now?” Boysenberry raises his brow. “I’m surprised I never heard of these soldiers. I wish I could’ve met them.”

“So do I.”

Nutmeg and Cinnamon crawl up my forelegs, the former wrapping around my neck, the latter leaping onto my head and and nestling into my mane. A living scarf and hat, who knew? Their soft, quick breaths are in perfect harmony. They traveled far to get here, they deserve a rest.

I chuckle to myself, though I keep my head movement to a minimum. “Well, Shae had hers. I think it’s about time I had mine.”

“Indeed…” Boysenberry rapidly taps his hooves on the table. He’s deliberately looking away. “Well, good luck with that.” He departs from his chair and heads straight for the door.

“Wait!” I shout, causing Nutmeg and Cinnamon to stir. I stop moving just before I leap out of my chair, though I keep a commanding point focused on Boysenberry. He stops moving at my behest.

“This is the part where you ask me where I’m going and what I’m going to do.” He turns around. His head is low, allowing his forest of a mane to cover most of his face. “And the answer to both is that it’s none of your business. I got this loose end off my chest, and now there’s nothing left that binds me to Equestria.”

“I’m sure Jarl Drake misses you,” I say, petting Nutmeg as she dozes off again.

Boysenberry’s eyes flash, even as he tries to remain stoic. “I don’t have anything to say to her.”

I grunt at his impudence, though I doubt I’d be any different in his situation. “You’re too smart to hold grudges. I’m sure she misses you, and I know she loves you.” I rest my hooves over my heart. “She can’t change your mind, but at least get some closure. That way, if you make good on your intention to never see her again, you’ll have no regrets, and neither will she.”

“Since when does she regret anything?” Boysenberry looks at himself, and the dark clouds he exhumes. “...Okay, I’ll talk to her. Eventually.”

“That’s a start.” I lean into Cinnamon’s eager nuzzling. He’s a cuddler, I’ll have to keep that in mind. I’m so distracted by his affection that I nearly lose my chance to say something else to Boysenberry before he leaves. “If it’s all for nothing and you can’t deal with your problem alone, please come to me. I’ll gladly drop everything to help you. I don’t care what it is that ails you, we can deal with it.”

He rolls his eyes, though I see a bit of longing there too. “The difference between you and me, Caro, is that there’s a separation between you and your powers, and you can hang them up whenever you’re done with them. I can’t do that. Hell, I don’t even know if my desire to avoid Jarl Drake is my own, or…” He looks at his chest. “His.”

“Don’t listen to him.”

“I don’t know where his thoughts end and mine begin… Ugh, forget it. You have the luxury to care about more than yourself. I'm not that lucky."

"Stop being a poet,” I plead. “Let me help you. You led me down the path of heroism, I should repay you somehow."

Boysenberry waves his head. "Wow, you are truly a blood-covered saint. Okay, you know what you can do?” He holds out his hoof and summons a crystal dagger. He approaches the war table and slams it into the map of Equestria. “Win this war. I don’t care what happened to Shokenda at Fillydelphia. Until she’s dead, or at the very least, permanently crippled, she won’t stop. Not until she has Equestria. The darkness she carries is not unlike my own, though it is self-formed. It’s a sick amalgamation of lust and greed for things that shouldn’t be sought.”

“And how do I deal with… her?” However one might refer to her.

“You’ve been attacking her. Disrupting her efforts. Disturbing her with your presence. Now, it’s time to go on the defensive, and show her that you will not accept retaliation. Weaken her by showing her just how weak she is to you now.”

I nod. I would have come to the same conclusion myself, given time. “I will.”

Boysenberry dispels his dagger and walks to the door. “It’s your decision. Whatever it is, I hope you’re ready for what happens next.”

Looking back, I have no idea what I expected. A full-scale assault on Everfree? There was never even a hint of that happening. Letters written in blood? None. A surge in attacks on Imperial camps, towns and strongholds? They had time to bolster themselves against enemies that never came.

The fires of the Imperial forges could be felt even as the long winter continued, and yet the weapons and armor made by those forges remained unblemished. Soldiers without a mission were called back to Everfree by the dozen, reunited with their families. I recall there being a common topic among them; disappointment. Not in that their service had come to an end, but that it petered to a halt without so much as a skirmish. For some, it was a mockery of all they had prepared for.

I and Dragonrein, of course, had experienced something more, but to most of Equestria, the climax of the civil war was the second battle of Ghastly Gorge. After that, the war was an old horse crawling to bed, and now, after so much misery, rest has come.

With one year having passed since Nutmeg and Cinnamon’s birth, it sometimes feels like I’m the only one who knows the final battle with Saviikaan approaches. It’s only a matter of time.