A ticking interrupted the silence, heralding the arrival of a tall, black earth pony. The click sounded again as he walked, reverberating each time his dragons' claw of mercury hit the black, cinder block floor of the Hall of the Elders, the mercury shining with the magic that worked within it, the image of a sword and a pen exchanging blows adorning his flank.

"Drøm Mester. I trust there is a good reason for this?"

The unicorn in question turned, making direct contact with his fellow Elder.

"Yes. Celestia has called for me and Sølv Brann to descend into the Realm of Dreams, and to retrieve Fugl Føniks."

Metall Kant raised a silver eyebrow, the sliver of hair making up for the lack of a mane.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Discord is fighting through the Realm of Dreams, and eight of Celestia's subjects hold the keys to his escape."

Metall Kant walked forward, his claw clicking upon the tile as he passed Drøm Mester.

"I know all this already. Why do you think I had him enchant the train? What I want to know is...why does Celestia order a royal amnesty for Sølv Brann?"

"Because if he can't fight, and we encounter Discord in the Realm of Dreams, we're all dead. Besides Fugl Føniks, Sølv is our most able fighter."

Metall Kant stopped, thinking. "Fine, then. I grant a royal amnesty to Sølv Brann, as well as the full return of his belongings."

"I also must bring to your attention that...he is remembering."

The earth pony stopped, blinking in surprise. He turned to face the unicorn, black wisps of dreams still clinging onto his black body.

"It is true, Metall Kant."

Metall turned to look at the other Elder currently occupying the room, the unicorns' white horn emulating her white body, the blue star on her flank stretching as she walked.

"Ah, Magi Stjerne...I assume that you are here in place of Deajer?"

The unicorn bowed her head, her light blue mane falling over her neck as she did so.

"Yes, Metall Kant. He is still recovering after the enchantments he placed upon the train."

Drøm Mester sighed. "If he is still recovering, I fail to see the need of us three...surely his spells can hold back Discord, no?"

"Yes, Drøm. However, if Discord gains enough power, he can smash right through them. That is why we are needed."

Drøm Mester turned in surprise to see Sølv Brann, his silver coat rendering the flaming silver sword on his flank almost invisible, his red mane emulating the flames of his cutie mark.

"Sølv Brann...how do you know that?"

The unicorn stood besides Drøm Mester, smiling cockily.

"Come on, you old colt. You mean to tell me that your forgot what happened that day? Deajer's spells were totally wiped out by Discord! Only Gylden Glør could ever hold back the draconequus, remember?"

The four of them bowed their heads at the mention of the zebra, paying homage to the hero despite him not being an Elder himself. Metall Kant smiled thinly, remembering the night he and Gylden Glør had met...

He shook himself, going back to the matter at hand.

"Drøm Mester...you said that he is starting to remember?"

"Yes, Metall Kant."

"And he is still in the Manehattan hospital?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want you to keep a close eye on him while the Celestia's subjects are in Manehattan. I don't want anything to go...awry."

Everypony nodded in consent.

"Sølv Brann, get your things. We must depart, immediately."

Metall shot Drøm Mester a dubious glance. "Why so rushed, my friend?"

"Discord has taken a pony. While I believe she won't encounter them for quite a while now, we must still depart now, in case the draconequus decides to...speed things up."

Metall Krant nodded. "Go, Sølv Brann, get our swords. We must practice before you sleep in the Chamber."

"What? In the Realm of Dreams, you-"

"Drøm Mester, I know all too well about the Realm of Dreams. But I also know that if you are not practiced in body, you are not practiced in mind. Magi, stay here. We'll need you to dull our blades."

The unicorn nodded, and Drøm Mester rolled his eyes, grumbling as he exited through the portal he had just opened.

Sølv Brann walked into the Hall, two scabbards on his back.

"Metall, here is your sword..."

The Elder expertly strapped the belt and scabbard around his waste as Sølv unbuckled it from his, ensuring that his own sword stayed in place.

"Magi, if you would."

Metall Krant stood on his hind hooves, taking up his experts' fencing stance. Flexing his mercury claw, he reached for his scabbard, and pulled his sword out, the blade playing the song of metal on metal as he pulled it out. The red sword shimmered as Magi Stjerne enchanted it with a protection charm, ensuring that the most it could do was give a bruise.

Unsure on his hind hooves, Sølv Brann plunged his hoof into the cavity of his sword. As soon as his hoof hit the button in the cup, the four metal clamps dislodged from the sheathe it sat in, and magically attached themselves to his wrist, making the white blade an extension of his arm, the light Soul Metal feeling like liquid as it passed through the air, shining as Magi Stjerne enchanted it as well.

For the next thirty minutes, they fought, expert swordspony against expert swordspony, neither losing nor gaining ground. They finally separated, not out of weariness, (as Elders don't tire quickly,) but due to Drøm Mester returning and berating them both.

"Come now, we need to go! Sølv, go sleep in the Chamber! Now! Metall, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but in all honesty, it's overstepping its boundaries now. Yes, Sølv, you can sleep in the second Chamber..."

"Sweet!"

"You've lived here for over one hundred thousand years, and already you've forgotten that the second Chamber is exclusively yours?"

"Well, there were once fifty of us, and there were still only twenty Chambers. I'm used to the old days."

Drøm Mester simply grunted, returning to the Realm of Dreams to fetch Sølv Brann and rendezvous with Fugl Føniks, leaving Metall Kant and Magi Stjerne alone in the Hall of the Elders.

Metall unbuckled his sheathe, and leaned it on his chair. He stood next to it, looking around the room, Sølv Brann's words still echoing in his ears as he spoke, to nopony in particular.

"There were once fifty of us...ten Leaders, and forty Elders...and now...only four Leaders remain...Deajer den Trollmann, Drøm Mester, Mørk Natt...and me. And the once forty strong Elders...now only a few remain alive...and of the few who remain alive...few remain sane..."

He simply stared ahead, Magi Stjerne standing to side, respecting her superior.

"In the war, Discord murdered us...Dag Drøm was the first, and...he was last. When he died...we lost hope...and then, Gylden Glør came...we shunned him from his birth...for twenty years, we advised all ponies to shun him...and yet, Ditzy Doo did not..."

Magi Stjerne bowed her head, paying homage to the hero whom they had shunned.

"And, after twenty years of shunning him...he left....and we...we rejoiced his departure..."

He gulped, shaking his head.

"And then he returned, the Armor of Brann Bolte on his back, the Wings of Vind Rullator upon his body...and he fought for us...the Elders who pushed for his demise...and the entire time we shunned him, only Fugl Føniks recognized who he was..."

Magi Stjerne blinked, remembering how she had berated the Elder for believing that the zebra could amount to anything...

"And then........he died for us....."

He sat, head bowed in respect for the zebra hero, whom Metall Kant himself had tried to execute...

"He made the Elements of Harmony in his death...and bestowed them upon Celestia and Luna...to save the Pegasus he loved, to save us Elders, and to save everypony..."

Metall Kant opened his eyes, staring at the cinder block floor.

"He died for the ponies that tried to kill him..."

He stood, his mercury claw clicking on the ground as he looked ahead, a new determination surging through his veins.

"And we shall fight to our last breath to defend everypony alive..."

He turned, walking back to his chambers, speaking the final words of his vow in his study, picking up his books with his dragon claw, careful not to tear the binding as he returned them to his shelves, Jett Stjerne standing in the middle of the chaos, a black and red streak still visible in his wake, an envelope held securely under his dusky, red wing.

Yes, keep sending in OC's.
What? You expected more?