“Shall we check our inventory?” asks Tohro. “If we are to gallop fearlessly into the depths of a cavern nopony has left alive, we must be prepared. Obviously.”

Caro nods and opens up his pouch. “Iron sword for me, wing blades for you, no sign of dulling or rust. A fresh supply of minor health and stamina potions from Boysenberry, bless his little heart...”

“Emphasis on little.”

“Shut it! Don’t be rude to ponies who give you free supplies. Or are you just sulking because you didn’t get to steal it?”

“Ugh, I get the picture,” Tohro snorts. He gives a mock bow and sweeps his hoof. “Do continue.”

“Pauldron... stolen from an Imperial soldier, currently equipped. No other armor to speak of. Spare blankets donated by Jarl Drake, an enchanted weatherproof tent, firewood...”

“Don’t forget the soap!” Tohro pipes up, a cheesy smile across his face.

Caro gives him a withering glare. “I’ve got three bars of soap, thank you very much.”

“And... Jade’s ring.”

A branch snaps beneath Caro’s hoof.

“Keep it down, lumbering oaf.” Tohro shouts.

“You’re one to talk.”

The silence of the clear and starry night is muted further by the newly fallen snow, making any noise echo like a minotaur’s snarl. For one attempting to dodge any chance of arrest, it proves troublesome, yet a trip through a silent night is still worlds safer than one in broad daylight.

Caro and Tohro’s destination lies within the western mountain range, where the snowfall never seems to cease. To say the both of them aren’t nervous is a complete and utter lie, though they hide it underneath their well built exteriors like any warriors would.

The silent night allows Caro to reflect on how everything that has happened up to this point has been a double edged sword, especially in light of what he told Jarl Drake. Her kind words and open ears were reassuring, but her scrying upon Caro is a constant source of paranoia for him. Additionally, while it was a relief to let loose the gruesome details of Reinoc’s destruction, the memories are now more real than ever. It seems like every step Caro makes into a healthier state of being only sends him back another.

Tohro takes notice of Caro's sour expression and offers him a much more upbeat one. "Don't act so somber, mate. This is your chance to shine. Don't you wish to be some sort of grand hero after all you have been through?"

Caro nods. "Above all, I just want to find out why Master had to die."

“We're a two-stallion clan of young, fierce warriors out on a prowl to find the answers to a force beyond our understanding. What's there to be miserable about?" Tohro chuckles. "I mean that rhetorically, of course." His pacing slows as the hill grows steeper. "Hm. Beak Falls Barrow. Last I checked, Ezio and the Thieves Guild had their claws on that place. Do you know much of the Thieves Guild, Caro?"

“I know enough," the earthwalker replies. "Master traded with them, on occasion. Despite their infamy, they seem like a decent enough clan, putting their stealth and trickery to good use, evening out the boundaries between the rich and poor.”

“Hmmph, I don’t know what delusions you have, but I’m talking about the Thieves Guild, not the Charity Chums. Trust me, they’re bloody ruthless. Cross their path, or, hell, even their line of sight and you’ll wish you were poorer. They’ll take anything that glitters.” Almost as an afterthought, Tohro adds, “And everything that doesn’t. Still more friendly than the Sisterhood of Shadows, though. I don’t care what we do after this Beak Falls business, so long as we don’t have to set hoof in either of their sights again.”

“Wait, Sisterhood of Shadows?” asks Caro. “I’ve heard nothing of them.”

“You’re lucky.”

Whether the chill in the air comes from the intensifying snowfall or the genuine fear hanging from Tohro’s words, Caro can’t help but shiver. He follows his now silent companion along the gradually steepening path.

Along the way they make encounters with many travelers and merchants alike, but none of them are ever interested in speaking. They merely avoid the the duo and make no initiative to strike conversation. Many look sick, miserable, anxious or just plain deathly. The harshness of winter shows on their stiff bodies and frosted rags of clothing. Caro is tempted to pass at least one of his stamina potions to an elderly mare coughing up a storm but he’s stopped by Tohro’s hoof.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Tohro whispers, grabbing Caro’s hoof. “The Thieves Guild is known to hire decoys.”

Caro sighs, his breath becoming a light fog. “If you say so...”

The snow seems to intensify with every passing minute, making it a heavy effort for the stallions just to look forward.

“Ow!” Caro’s head collides with what feels like a brick wall and he falls to his rear. He rubs his head in confusion as he glances up to see a red cloak floating before him. He studies the snow and sees hoofprints leading around in circles and ending right underneath the phantom garment. A pair of thick rimmed glasses lay between them.

“Wait a minute...” He reaches out his hoof slowly and feels... hair. “Come on out, then. We know you’re there.”

He hears a nervous swallow and before his eyes a lavender unicorn mare materializes. “How did you know?”

“Your cloak.” Caro smiles, pointing to her.

She glances over her shoulder. “Oh no...” she mutters as she retrieves her glasses from the snow. She whimpers and backs away, cowering in sheer terror. “Please, just take my soul gems and leave me alone! I haven’t done anything wrong! I don’t know anything about any golden talons!”

“What in the name of Epona-”

The mare shoves Tohro aside and gallops away with a panicked grunt.

Tohro seems undeterred by his stumble, brushing the powder and dirt off his mail as he smiles. “Golden talons, eh? Whatever those are, they might be worth a detour.”

Caro has a fierce determination in his eyes. “We have to follow her.”

“What?! We’ll get in trouble with whoever she’s running from.” Tohro snorts. “Plus, I told you already, anypony could be a decoy.”

Caro's eyes remind Tohro of lightning, fast and heart stopping as they pierce his defenses. “You know, I'm willing to work with you, but we don’t have to argue about every single thing we do. Would it kill you to just compromise with me for once? If she is a decoy, I’m sure we can make quick work of her before she squeals.”

“Well... uh... If you say so.” Begrudgingly, Tohro kicks off the ground. In just a few wing flaps, he overtakes the mare, landing in front of her and skidding to a halt. He holds out his hooves as she pauses, looking keen to run the opposite way. "Woah, little one! No weapons, no problem! I'm of the Blackwings, I mean you no ill will."

“See? She’s harmless.” Caro gives the mare a friendly bow, hoping she takes it as a sign that he doesn’t intend on hurting her. Her tense shoulders relax slightly, so he holds out his hoof. “Caro of Riverhoof, and my companion is Tohro of... um...”

“Fillydelphia, born and raised.”

“Right. I apologize for his assertive actions but we had to investigate.”

“Had to?”

Caro stares Tohro down. “Yes. Had to. We’re problem solvers.”

The mare, now reassured, lets out a sob. She takes Caro’s hoof and shakes it vigorously. She’s trembling enough to make his whole foreleg shake. “Thank you, thank you so much. You have no idea how terrified I am...”

“I might.”

The mare’s hoof is coated in sweat as she refuses to let go. “I’m... I’m Shae Sparkle, of Wintercolt. Wintercolt Academy, to be specific, and I would have stayed there if I had known about these dreadful bandits. They’ve followed me back and forth across these mountains since yesterday, and they won’t give up. They seem to think I’m in possession of the golden talons, whatever those are.”

“Haven’t you thought of fighting back?” asks Tohro. “I thought that you unicorns knew all sorts of flashy moves.”

“I’ve honestly tried, but my horn falters in the face of fear.”

“A bit for every time that’s happened...” Torho lets a smug grin spread across his face, only to have it knocked away by Caro’s elbow to the ribs.

“Not even a basic flame spell works.” Shae squints. Her horn makes a magenta spark that sputters out instantly. “I barely managed that invisibility spell. All I can do is run.”

Caro beckons to Tohro and resumes trotting. “I suppose magic is a very effective tool until it doesn’t work. Come along, Shae.”

Still sitting on her flank, Shae looks around in bewilderment. “What?”

“Until your horn decides to cooperate, my sword and Tohro’s wits will have to be your means of defense.”

“What?” she asks again.

“It’s his thing,” says Tohro. “He just can’t leave a damsel in distress well enough alone, or anything else that he sees fit to help.”

As the gravel and dirt become further buried by the heavy snowfall, the path begins to twist and turn and grow thinner. Caro walks alongside Shae, who clings to him out of fear of any strange sight.

“You clearly have not traversed these lands before,” says Caro.

“Goodness, no. I knew there would be criminals along the way but I thought my magic would grant me protection. It’s hard to keep focus when every bandit wants my belongings, or worse... my...” she shudders. “They have no remorse.”

“It’s not just the bandits. You can’t trust anypony.”

Shae stares bewilderingly at Caro. “And yet you go out of your way to help them?”

“I relish any moment I can find a speck of good will these days. One just has to look hard enough.”

“What good will have you found?” Shae asks with a tilt of her head.

“Little. I met a zebra bard who offered kind words and mildly amusing songs, but that is the extent of it. Of course, there’s also this lump over here. He saved my life.”

“You’re too kind,” says Tohro, taking a bow in mid flight. “May I add Boysenberry to that list?”

Caro waves his hoof. “He’s a child. He has yet to understand what an ulterior motive is. Everypony else has had one, and I suspect Jarl Drake of the same. What does she have to gain by watching me? I have the strangest feeling she’s scrying upon us right now.” He looks to the sky with a death glare, but he falters. “Well, at least somepony’s watching over us. Better her than Platinum.”

Shae raises an eyebrow. “What in the name of Fauste do you have against the queen? Are you a rebel?”

“Tohro is, but I can have a genuine dislike of the Empire and not be a rebel, can I not? Imperial soldiers nearly took me to my grave, and then they...” Caro doesn’t want to lapse into his bloodlust at the thought of Jade’s lost dignity. “The Empire hasn’t done me any favors. I can do better than them.”

“You already have, sir," Shae says. "But if you don’t mind me asking, where are we going?”

“Beak Falls Barrow, and it may be a long walk. Tell us about yourself, pass the time.”

Shae flushes a bit, her horn glowing softly as she adjusts her glasses. “Well, I don’t like to brag, but I am currently the top student at the academy, in line to become the next headmistress, if all goes as planned. Wintercolt is more or less my entire life. I was born inside the academy, owing to my parents being professors there, and I have never left the village, until recently.”

“Does the academy know you’re away without leave?”

“Who said I was without leave? Before graduation, every student must complete an extracurricular project, and mine in particular happens to be the investigation of the strange happenings in Reinoc.”

Their traveling party is brought to a halt, due to Caro’s sudden whinny.

“Are you quite alright? You look a little green.”

Shaking his head, he says, “I’m... I’m fine,” even if the words aren’t truthful. A simple reminder of the encounter with the dragon swarm is enough to make Caro sick to his stomach, to the point of telling Shae about it being out of the question. Even if I were to explain, would she believe me? “I’m fine,” he repeats. It feels as if he’s trying to convince himself more than her.

They have been climbing for quite a long while. Looking out, the lights of Trottingham are visible several kilometers in the distance despite the heavy snowfall and fog. The wind is growing stronger too, as made evident by a nearby flag marked by two claw marks. Tohro laughs at the sight of it. “If the Thieves Guild is truly as stealthy as they claim to be, why would they mark their territory? This isn’t intimidating, it just reminds us to hold onto our wallets.”

“That’s not intimidating, but this is.” Caro sweeps away a conspicuous lump of snow at the base of the flagpole, and the contents underneath cause Shae to shriek.

“A-a-are th-those real?”

Even Tohro has to grimace at the sight of two rotting unicorn corpses. He approaches the smaller of the two. “I don’t think a fabrication smells like that. Bloody hell, this one couldn’t have been older than ten...”

“I don’t think this is a territorial flag,” says Caro, examining the tears and hasty preparation of the flag. “Somepony else set it up as a warning.”

Tohro nods in agreement. “Perhaps it was our fallen friends here. Do you think we can make use of their sacrifice?” He searches through the tattered remains of the bodies, finding twelve bits, a crumpled piece of parchment and a bobby pin. “Ooh, give me that!” Tohro snatches the bobby pin and hides it in his hair. “I’m dead useful when it comes to lockpicking," he whispers to Caro. "I’m the one who opened the backdoor to Gallopagos Keep.”

“Is this a regular thing with you two?” asks Shae. “Disrespecting the dead by stealing their belongings?”

“It’s not as if they’ll have any use for it,” says Tohro.

“But that makes you no better than this Thieves Guild, doesn’t it?”

Caro tries to give Shae a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but she steps back at his touch. “We are not thieves. We must do whatever it takes to survive so we don’t meet the same fate as these ill-fated travelers. Any adventurer could tell you the same.”

“Okay...” Shae whispers, bowing her head. “This is all so foreign to me.”

“When you live in a school your whole life, that is to be expected.”

“Say,” asks Tohro, “what’s on that paper?”

Caro unrolls the rough parchment and lays it flat on a stone slab and reads it aloud.

"Dearest Florence,

I have retrieved the item you were seeking and intend on destroying it soon. Whatever lies within Beak Falls Barrow is not worth all this trouble, and if little Pastel and I stay here for much longer, the Thieves Guild will find us. I’m sorry, my love. It seems fortune has fallen out of our reach o"

Aside from a few ink blots and dried blood stains, the letter doesn’t continue. “It seems the Thieves Guild got the jump on them before they could send this.”

Shae scans the letter a few times, looking for any anomalies. “What item do they speak of? Do you think it’s the golden talons?”

“Everyone and their mother are after them,” says Tohro, “and if they‘re connected to Beak Falls Barrow...”

Caro finishes his sentence. “We may need them to retrieve Boysenberry’s precious gemstone.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” says Shae. “Odds are, the Thieves Guild stole the talons from this mare and her...” she swallows, still queasy at the sight of the bodies. “If you find them, you’ll find the talons.”

“Well then, today must be our lucky day,” says Tohro.

Jagged steps further down the mountain road lead to what looks to be the remains of an pre-equestrian garden. Stone pillars and archways tower over the rustic remains of statues, damaged to the point of being unrecognizable. Many gruff and muscular ponies are patrolling the area.

“Excellent,” says Caro. “Let’s try to be stealthy about this. We’ll beat them at their own game. Shae, it’s probably for the best if you stay back and remain hidden. I’ll call for you when the coast is clear.”

“Yes, sir. Best of luck to both of you.” She hides behind the stone slab, though her horn is still visible, sparking as she unsuccessfully attempts to cloak herself.

Staying close to the deep snow to mute their hoofsteps, Caro and Tohro ready their weapons and ascend the stairs. Caro signals for them to split up, and they make way to the east and west sides of the garden, respectively.

One of the bandits, a scrawny shaggy yellow pegasus, is napping on the job up against one of the pillars. If his back were exposed, this would be so much easier, Caro thinks. He decides to take a risk. He nudges the lazy bastard and he falls right onto his gut. Caro unsheathes his blade, ready to silently end the bandit’s life, when he hears a sharp "Psst!"

Over by the adjacent pillar, Tohro is making a violent gesture with his hooves that one can assume means Don’t you dare! He then charades pulling an invisible unconscious body to the edge of the garden.

Caro is astounded and yet strangely amazed. Assuming the vertical drop is far enough, there will be no evidence this bandit was killed.

Taking good care to not wake the shaggy one, Caro slowly reaches underneath his shoulders and drags him away from his napping spot. Some of his coins and a dagger drop from his loose saddlebag. When the pegasus atop the archway turns his back, Caro swings around and tosses the bandit over the edge. He only shouts for a split second before he’s silenced by the jagged rocks below.

Unfortunately, that shout is loud enough for the archway bandit to look Caro’s way.

“Hey!” she readies his crossbow and notches an arrow. “To arms, mates! We have a rrch!” Tohro tosses one of his wing blades right into her neck and she’s knocked clean off of her perch from the impact.

While the element of stealth is still on Caro and Tohro’s side, the remaining bandits are aware they have foes in their midst. Peeking around one of the ruined statues, Torho sees two of them investigating the disfigured dead body of the archer.

You blokes make this too easy, he thinks. He signals for Caro to move up, and the earthwalker complies, crouching and equipping a small rusty dagger. Using their own weapons against them, eh? You continue to surprise me.

Not wanting to waste another wingblade, Tohro leaps for one of the bandits, gets him in a headlock and twists. Snap goes the bandit’s neck, and blood drains from his mouth and ears. The other draws a large spiked hammer but he drops it as Caro drives the knife into his back.

“I think that should do it.”

Tohro rolls over one of the bandits’ corpses and pats them down, feeling for anything that could resemble talons, or anything golden for that matter. “One of these blokes has to have the talons,” he says.

“The one I dropped didn’t," says Caro. "I checked.”

Tohro kicks away at a lump of snow. “Well then, it seems we were on a false lead,” he says with a tinge of frustration. “Come to think of it, for a Thieves Guild, they went down a little too easy, and they’re traveling awfully light. They’ve hardly enough gold to buy lettuce.”

“That is because they are not the Thieves Guild.”

Caro whirls around at the sound of an oddly familiar voice, deep like that of a baroness'. A heavily armored earthwalker stands before them, equipped with bladed gauntlets and two broadswords laid across her saddle. She has a very professional disposition about her as she holds one of the gauntlets to the neck of a sobbing unicorn mare-

“Shae!”

Caro gets a running start but he corrects himself, realizing that if he makes any attempt to attack, Shae will lose an unhealthy amount of blood at the hooves of the yellow earthwalker ahead of him. She's still clad in the same armor she was wearing in Reinoc. Caro remembers her giving the command to tie him up just as well as the sound of his own breath.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” says Tohro. “How have you been, General Tangerine?”

The general's professionalism doesn’t hide her exasperation very well. “I had an a tip from a nice zebra in Ivarstable that the colt who decimated Reinoc was headed in this direction.”

Divines dammit, Xephyr! thinks Caro.

“Now then, I highly recommend you drop your weapons and surrender to the Imperial Legion. I have armed forces stationed all over the mountain ready to kill you on the spot if you make any attempt to escape, and even if you do...” She moves her blade closer to Shae’s neck. “I'm so sorry, but I can’t guarantee her survival.”

“You hag!” shouts Caro. “First you send me to the chopping block and then you threaten a child. I never thought the legion would play dirty like this. What happened to your dignity?”

“Dignity? This is war! I can’t very well have a mass murderer running about. Even then, you have no right to determine what is dignified when you brutalized dozens of innocent ponies. Forty ponies reduced to limbs in minutes! Children died, Caro! And the Legion knows it was you.”

Despite knowing his protests would be met with no sympathy, Caro has the compulsive need to deny Tangerine’s claims. “I’m an innocent colt!”

No good comes of his claim, as predicted. It only angers Tangerine. “You had your chance to appeal. The odds are stacked against you, and I’m sick of playing this game of cat and mouse. I finally have you in my grasp, and even if I have to hold a noblemare hostage, you will come quietly. Your Blackwing friend, too. Now, I will not repeat myself. Drop. Your. Weapons.”

The absolute fear in Shae’s eyes keeps Caro from doing what anypony else would do, that is to say, bolting. He would rather take his chances in the prison cell again any day then let her get injured. She’s young and innocent. Even if the charges for the destruction of Reinoc are greatly exaggerated, it doesn’t change the plain truth that Caro has murdered many a bandit and soldier. Ponies who, regardless of their corruption and depravity, had just as many emotions and memories as he does.

Caro removes his sheath and sets his iron sword on the concrete. He then looks to Tohro.

What are you doing? his expression says.

“I’m going to turn myself in, General,” says Caro, gesturing to Tohro. “However, could you let my friend go? He is merely my accomplice and is mostly innocent.”

It takes a moment for the reality of it to wash over Tohro, but Caro just called him a friend, and not in a sarcastic manner for once. He's utterly humbled. A moody earthwalker is giving up his freedom so two ponies can live, one of which he hates and the other he hardly even knows. He truly is selfless...

"Very well," Tangerine says, much to Tohro's surprise. “Under normal circumstances, I would say you cannot make demands, but I will allow this much. I would rather not take any risks when it comes to capturing you.” She lets out a sigh of what seems to be relief, as does Shae when the blade is taken away from her neck and she is set free. Tangerine mutters to Shae, "I am so sorry that had to happen..." before the young mare rushes to Caro and Tohro, who are standing close together, speaking in hushed voices.

“You don’t have to do this, mate,” Tohro whispers.

“I’ve got to. I’d rather it be me than either of you.” Caro is shaking a little bit, and it’s not because of the frigid weather. “Thank you, though. You at least granted me enough freedom to appreciate what I have left.”

Tohro is speechless. He cannot even make fun of this poetic moment, as much as he wants to. His hooves keep making inconclusive vetoes against this selfless act, until he settles on partial acceptance. “I’ll save you,” says Tohro. “I did it once, I’ll gladly do it again.”

“You’ll always be there to save my hide?”

“Yes.” The two clasp their hooves together. Tohro looks his friend dead in the eye and says, “I promise, I will always be there...”

Everything moves in slow motion. First, Tohro pulls a quick three-sixty degree spin, gaining enough momentum to throw two of his wing blades at Tangerine. She ducks the first and dives out of the way of the second, giving Tohro enough time to dive for the dead archer’s oak crossbow.

With both his hooves holding the weapon, ready to pull the trigger, Tohro has Tangerine at arrow point. “I always keep my promises!”

Tangerine is on her hind legs with her gauntlets crossed, stoic in the face of death. “Well played, Blackwing.”

“Now it’s your turn to drop your weapons!" Tohro yells. "Give us all of them. Rosemary is gonna have one hell of a business day with those swords in her smelter. We're going to make a small fortune!”

Tangerine’s rigid and stoic attitude vanishes. “Wait, who-”

She is interrupted, flung off her feet by a black streak tearing furiously through the snow speckled sky. It lands on the tallest pillar, becoming entirely visible. It's a hooded black gryphon clad in a long leather coat.

"Ezio!" Tohro exclaims.

“You would do well to not take our belongings from us again, pony," the gryphon growls to Tangerine with a voice that reminds Tohro of a dark cave. He shudders at his every word.

Tangerine does a quick check of her bag, eyes widening. “They’re gone!”

All four of the ponies look back up to Ezio, who equips the golden talons to a prosthetic arm. “You’ve come to the wrong neighborhood.”