Chapter Forty Seven

Guilt

The lands to the north and west of the Ottomare Empire were of a somewhat peculiar sort. Ancient in many ways, shrouded in mystery and filled with all sorts of odd legends, it was not exactly a top tourist destination. It should have been, but wasn’t; it was a temperate land nestled among the Carpathian Mountains and to the east, against the shores of the Black Sea. In fact, out of all the places in Europe, this was without a doubt one of the far less traveled routes, even though it was one of the more beautiful. Foreign ponies weren’t exactly keen on visiting this place due to its highly variable and often confusing terrain, and due to its close borders with the Ottomare Empire, there was always a threat of a regional war of some kind. The locals, while friendly, weren’t exactly advertising what a nice place it was to travel, instead keeping mostly to themselves and the business within their own borders, just as most ponies did.

However, the ones stuffed inside the carriage could ill afford to take a longer route around such a place, especially one that would have them close to the Empire’s borders, so into this strange land they traveled. Besides, the alternate routes would take them high into the mountains, a place some, in their condition, could ill-afford to go. Atop the carriage, his sheathed sword occasionally bouncing against his hip, Ebony Blade quietly scanned the roads he crossed and traveled upon, looking for signs of trouble up ahead.

Bandits were always a problem along these roads during the day, especially so close to the borders, with the nights being even worse. He’d been present in many a bandit attack, and so far had been able to drive them off or at least offer them a bribe when their numbers were too numerous for him to feel comfortable in combating. More than once he’d lost every bit of gold he had on him, as many bandits were filled with more greed than common sense. Several times they had tried to take away his sword, which more or less ended with him cleaning the blood off of it and pocketing his stolen valuables.

However, he hadn’t noticed any signs of previous bandit activity; a dropped blade here, scuffle marks alongside the road, a coin here or there where a scuffle between bandits during the night was forgotten. Thus, the farther they moved into this land, the more at ease he felt.

Of course he would feel at ease; this was his home. His kind had lived in this part of the world for many years, ever since the great exodus of the ancient bat pony tribes nearly a thousand years before. Only a few of the tribes had stayed in their ancestral home far across the sea; the rest had fled across the great Barnlantic Ocean, eventually settling all along the northern edge of the Meditermanean Sea. However, as time went on, the bat ponies soon found themselves at odds with their new neighbors.

Many of the ponies living in and around the sea were highly superstitious folk, and it wasn’t long before the bat ponies were driven from their new homes out of fear. So, they moved on, heading further and further inland, away from the more populated areas. Eventually, they delegated themselves to isolated mountain ranges, vast grassland steppes and the uninhabited portions of rivers, lakes and seas. Many renovated caves into homes, as their ancestors had done many a time, and so built towns, castles and cities into them. Thankfully, most ponies no longer feared them on sight, but they were always discriminated against in some way, be in blatant or completely accidental.

By nature, bat ponies were semi-nomadic, often roaming for many years after their journey into adulthood before settling down in one place, often to raise a family or start a business of some kind. Ebony Blade was just one of these souls, though he was now a bit older than most of his drifting peers; forty years old as of last month. Many by his age had already settled down and started families; he had already done so before.

His daughter, his sweet little Calypso, her eyes an icy blue like his own; she would be waiting for him, alongside his beautiful wife, back at their cottage high in the hills. He could still smell his wife’s mane, which always had carried with it the smell of mountain blueberries and rosemary.

“I’ll see them soon,” he muttered, forcing his eyes to stay focused on the road ahead of him instead of glazing over in memory. “It’s been too long I was last home.”

He would stop there when he passed through; for now, he was content to simply keep going. The night before had been of no trouble, so much so that he had slept through much of it, not letting his passengers know of course. Ebony had checked on them before getting his own shuteye, though, and had been glad to see they had all been asleep. Even the young griffin, though he knew it had less to do with the whole stress of their flight from Istanbul and more to do with her exhaustion brought on by her separation from her life as she had known it.

“Must be tough for her,” he muttered as he wound along narrow mountain roads and across lazily-flowing rivers. Around the marshlands where the rivers spread, he could see butterflies flittering lazily over the tall sedges and reeds, with small birds occasionally flying out to snatch insects mid-flight. “To lose her mother like that; to know she is still alive, somewhere back in that city, but never being able to see her again.”

He did not fully know why her situation was as such, but he could empathize with the youngster. He had been sent off at a young age by his father, a retired captain, to train under a local lord as a squire; that was how he had earned his skills in swordplay and other forms of combat. He hadn’t dreamed of being a knight, and though he wasn’t one, he was still respected for his courage, honesty, and willingness to work for an honest day’s pay.

The biggest problem he faced was finding the right clientele. There were always those looking for mercenaries to fight in their wars, and more often than not, those same mercenaries would turn on those who hired them if their foes offered more. Sure, it was good for business, but bad for reliability, and the whole “betrayal-for-money” thing left a bad taste in Ebony’s mouth. That was why he usually sought out those he not only knew could pay, but would use his services for things that didn’t involve him potentially invading a city and slaughtering anypony who got in his way.

Like guarding merchant caravans, or a bodyguard to some minor noble, or even as protection to some dignitary or tax collector; Ebony Blade had done it all. He liked merchants most, seeing as even though they haggled with him from time to time, they still eventually paid him in full and usually found him more work when they no longer needed him. Nobles and dignitaries he liked as well, though a little less, seeing as they were more often than not pompous and a bit arrogant. Tax collectors he liked the least, simply due to their incessant whining that they were paying too much for his services, or for the fact he had to often fend off angry villagers in towns where tax rates were just too damn high.

An honorable mercenary: an oxymoron if there ever was one.

Still, he loved his job; he got to travel, which appealed to the nomadic bat pony inside of him, but it also allowed him to build up quite the nest egg for his home and family. In fact, when he often had too much to save over, he’d send some of it off to his brothers and sisters in the more distant parts of the country, where they spent their days in the subterranean bat pony cities, living their lives in peace. The rest was spent in the local taverns and inns.

No, he didn’t have a drinking or smoking problem; he just liked to do both when it was available. Thank the stars above that he never gambled, or else he’d likely never make enough money to feed himself and his family.

“Ugh,” a voice groaned. Turning his head slowly, Ebony watched as the young griffon called Eutropia slowly climbed up out of the carriage window and up onto one of the outside seats behind him. This carriage, after all, was special; while it still needed a driver, it was designed to keep the driver out of the rain, and with more than one row of seats in case extra bodyguards were needed.

“Rough night?” he asked simply as he looked back out at the road.

“No,” Eutropia said, lying down behind the mercenary as she rubbed her horribly bloodshot eyes. “My night was fantastic; I love sleeping in a rocking carriage taking me away from the only home and family I’ve ever known with only a bunch of strangers to keep me company. How do you think I feel?”

Ebony was silent for a moment. “Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, young lady,” he said. “I’m supposed to be the sarcastic one.”

“Well excuse me, mercenary, but I’ve never left Istanbul before in my entire life,” she replied, trying and failing to mask the hurt in her words.

“First time for everything,” he replied, glancing back at her.

“Yeah, well, I would have liked this “thing” to have never happened,” Eutropia muttered softly, her wings folding around her like a blanket as she felt the breeze ruffle her feathers. “I would have been fine to stay in my home.”

“You know as well as I do that is no longer an option,” Ebony said as the carriage passed under a lonely old oak tree shading the path, standing like an ancient sentinel over the otherwise flat and exposed road. “Your mother entrusted you and your companions to me, to be protected by myself until you all no longer require my services.”

“Why can’t you take me back when the dragon leaves with his family?” the griffin asked softly, the sarcasm bleeding out of her words with every passing minute.

“The deal was that you would travel with them, far away from Istanbul and the borders of the Ottomare Empire,” he said. “I will not bring you back.”

“But why would you care? You’d still get paid,” Eutropia said, hating the fact he was right. Tartarus, she had been there when her mother and the four mares talked about taking her away from Istanbul. She’d been reluctant but accepting then, and now... be it the homesickness or a feeling of abandonment, she didn’t know, but she wanted to go home so very badly. Her mother had told her to be strong, but... she was already so far from home; just how was she going to travel into the great beyond of what she knew without her?

She just felt so lost, so out of her element, and so very, very alone.

“A mercenary I may be, young Eutropia, but I honor agreements and promises with the greatest of care, and your mother has been a faithful and honest employer in the past.” He paused for a moment. “Besides, I know you do not have the money to have me take you back.”

“You... you served under her? What did she ever need you for?” She didn’t even bother to ask about the money or how he knew; everything she had owned, save for the clothes on her back, were back in her former home.

“That is my business, not yours,” he said softly, breathing in deep as they passed through a field of wildflowers and tall grasses, the scent of the former washing over him like a warm blanket. “You should be more concerned with your future, not my past.”

“What does my future have anything to do with it? In fact, why do you care? It’s not like it matters anymore,” the young griffin said. She didn’t want her words to be so callous and cruel, but she was hurting inside, and lashing out was the only thing she could think of doing right now. Ebony Blade just happened to be the one closest to her.

“Young lady, it is my job to care,” he said, his heart feeling a twinge of pain at her words. They struck too close to home for his liking, and though he would have preferred to just say a few things on the matter, perhaps it was time to just let it out. “You are young, and still have much to learn about life and the world. Things are not always what they seem: losing what you have now does not mean all is lost forever. It is simply a new beginning.”

“Is that supposed to be inspiring or something? Sounds like rubbish to me; all I feel is empty inside,” she replied sadly.

“What you feel is up to you, young one. All I can tell you is that, in time, you’ll grow to understand what has happened, and why it had to happen as it did. For now, just try and not be so bitter, all right? We still have a long way to go before you and your companions will no longer need me, and I would prefer most of the journey to be in silence, not a continuous cycle of listening you bemoan and indulge in self-pity.”

Eutropia shut up after that, his words ringing in her ears. Only her mother had ever talked to her in that tone; it was almost like a slap to the young griffin. Pouting in the back seat, she eventually decided talking with the odd pony driving the carriage was no longer worth any effort. He didn’t want to hear about her story any more than he needed to, it seemed. As he said, he was being paid to transport her far away from Istanbul and the Ottomare Empire, not listen to her problems. However, that didn’t stop her from going over the last few days in her head and wondering just what to make of them. More specifically, the same thought kept passing through her mind, again and again like a chant.

“I could have done something.” It was the thought of one young and hopeful, and almost blissfully naïve; sure, she could have done something. She could have been forced into hiding inside of the city, a refugee within her own home, hiding until the authorities were no longer looking for her. She could have been used as a tool, as a weapon against her mother, beaten and tortured for information in cells so dark and deep that her cries would never have been heard. She could have been the ultimate leverage, even earning her mother false sentences from false confessions, just to stop the pain her “questioners” would have inflicted upon her. Even if all of that had amounted to nothing, and her mother was declared innocent, she'd be scarred for life in ways nobody should ever be.

If she had been taken, and her torture had given her mother a guilty verdict, then Eutropia could have watched her mother hang, just as she too might have been had she stayed. She could have been spared, only to watch her mother’s corpse be pecked clean by crows high in gibbets along the walls of the city.

The thought was too terrible to envision; all Eutropia could do was choke back a soft gasp when the thought of the light in her mother’s eyes fading away passed through her mind. No, no, it was best that she was gone. Without her daughter to use against her, and with the knowledge that Myrrina’s mother would never last through any “interrogation” due to her advanced age and standing within much of the community, the courts would have no choice but to listen to the captain of the royal guard and consider her evidence. Eutropia knew her mother had many connections in the courts; connections brought on by favors paid for jobs that kept the city and the empire running, and would no doubt call these in should forces inside the government wish to see her hang. There were many who were jealous of her ranking in the emperor’s high circles, so much so they would try to block or destroy evidence that might exonerate her from guilt.

The young griffin somehow knew that her mother, even with those within the government owing her favors, would have a long and difficult road ahead. She’d likely even have to resign, or at least be demoted, from her current position, as the stain of doubt and accusation would likely be too much for the emperor to allow in his ranks. She herself would be a target of ridicule by others her age, calling her mother a traitor and whatnot.

Who would ever want to be with a griffin whose mother had been tried for treason? Who could ever bear the burden of such dishonor being associated with their extended family? Who would ever love her for who she was, faults and all?

“It’s all that damned dragon’s fault,” she muttered, wiping a few tears from her eyes. She didn’t want to cry anymore; the fact that a few tears had slipped out showed she still had tears left to shed. “If he hadn’t come, then somehow, the things that happened... wouldn’t have. I’m sure, no, I know they wouldn’t have. If he and his wives had just... gone around the city, or on a ship from wherever they had come from, then all of this...”

She didn’t need to finish her sentence in her head; she already knew the answer to it. She had no idea where the dragon and his family had come from, or even why they had been in the city, but them being in the city had set off the chain of events that had led to all of this. They, no, he was the reason why she was no longer in the city she had grown up in. He was the reason she was no longer with her family, with her mother; he was why her world was all upside-down.

Yet, for all of this pain she was feeling, for all of the hurt she was turning into anger and hardening her heart with, she couldn’t quite bring herself to completely hate the dragon for it. Blame him for everything and carry a deep-seated grudge, for sure, but outright hate him, as she would have that evil guard had he not been torn apart by those vicious flying demons. From what the dragon’s wives had told him, he was hurting deep inside, very sick, and three times an expectant father. The fact that all of this misery and change was connected to him, and yet none of it really being his fault or the fault of his loved ones, made her feel very confused indeed.

So yes, he did not deserve hate, but that did not mean she liked him; far from it. Either way, she knew it would be a long time before she forgave him for the situation she was in now.

“It’s just not fair,” she muttered as she closed her eyes from pure exhaustion, drifting off to a dreamless slumber as the carriage gently rocked beneath her.

Ebony Blade glanced back at her as they continued on, his ears twitching slightly at the sound of her voice. “Life’s not fair,” he whispered to himself. He knew this better than most.

Inside the carriage, a few pairs of eyes had opened not soon after the young griffin had climbed out, and after several minutes of silently looking out into the vast fields, they finally connected.

“Chrysalis?” Asalah asked, gently stroking Trixie’s cheek as the unicorn lay nestled against her.

“Yes?” the queen replied softly, one arm cuddling a still-asleep Maria and the other arm lying protectively across Spike’s chest. The dragon breathed in deeply but slowly, and underneath her fingers, she could feel his pulse beating ever so slowly, like a great big metronome. It was far slower than she would have liked; she knew that she wasn’t the only one who wished he was well and awake.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.”

“I know it’s somewhat of a sore topic between you and Spike but... why did you hide your true form from us for all those weeks and months, and even longer from Spike? Wouldn’t he have understood, what with your appearance and all, since he’s not really the judgmental type?”

The zebra did have a point; dragons were notorious for judging others, usually based on character and not appearance, but the fact that Spike was just so accepting was a tad... odd. Perhaps it was his upbringing in a land of harmony that taught him not to be so judgmental.

Chrysalis sighed softly. “Asalah, to understand my answer, you’ll have to realize that when I met Spike on the Crowhop, far off the eastern shores of Equestria, it was not just a chance meeting. I had been planning on meeting him, seducing him, and ultimately using him for my own gains. I had actually followed him out of Canterlot, you see, aboard the train where he “met” Trixie, all those months ago.”

It seemed like an entire lifetime ago by now to her; subterfuge and tyrannical to blissfully married and pregnant in just a few months... and several thousand miles.

“Use him? Whatever for?” the zebra asked. She knew Spike and Chrysalis had had a good long talk back in Maredagascar, and that she and the others had been told that everything was now sorted out, but... she wanted to know just why it had all happened the way it did. Spike wasn’t in any condition to be explaining things to her, so the only other source she could go to was Chrysalis herself.

“For my conquest of Canterlot, and then all of Equestria,” the queen said simply. “I wasn’t always like you see me now; once, long ago, I was. More carefree, more kind, and far more generous; it was the better days of my youth, I should think. Then, alas, I had to grow up in very unfortunate times for my kind, and, well, I began slipping into darkness. I kept telling myself it was for “the greater good”, but that road, as I have found out, always lead to a very dark and lonely place. Soon enough, I was no longer honest, gentle or forgiving; I connived, I cheated, and I waged shadow wars against all in my power to do so. I participated in the cruelest of endeavors and sanctioned some of the worst crimes against any threat I saw, including within my own kingdom. Years ago I even outright invaded Equestria, seeking to expand my power and to fuel the power of my subjects so that we might conquer everything in our way. But, alas, I was defeated, and in my exile, I burned with hatred. But it was a two-fold hatred, you see, dear Asalah.”

“Whatever do you mean?” the zebra mare asked softly, wondering how in the world the kind, caring and selfless Chrysalis she knew now could ever have been the... monster she was now describing. It was like they were two completely different ponies, an irony that was not lost on Asalah.

“I hated them for defeating me; Princess Cadence and Shining Armor. Their love returned power to Shining Armor, which gave him the strength to cast a shield spell so strong it defeated my army and I within seconds. They stripped me of what I had gained that day in the merest of moments, and scattered my army and myself to the four winds. We regrouped, surely, and I began to plot once more, but I started feeling something else. Not regret, not sorrow, but a different kind of hate. I hated myself, Asalah, not because what I felt what I was doing and had already done was wrong, but because I had lost. Up until then, I had never lost in anything I had done; I had strived and achieved victory, often at bloody and brutal costs to myself or my subjects. Asalah, I was beyond ambitious, always trying to do better, be faster, smarter and stronger than my opponents. I always had my eyes on the horizon, waiting for my next chance, for my next plan to come into action. My loss showed me just how vulnerable I really was.”

“How did you come to know this?” her fellow wife asked.

“I started looking at my former plans, and began to see the cracks in them; to see the inherent flaws in each and every one. Even if I hadn’t been defeated by Shining Armor and Princess Cadence, my hold on Canterlot would have eventually fallen, as the rest of the country remained totally loyal to the two ruling sisters. I began to focus less on conquest and more on usurpation. I sought to destroy and overthrow Equestria from the inside out. All I needed was a pawn, an unassuming chess piece that could take the board in a blaze of strikes that none would see coming.”

“So... Spike was this piece?” Asalah whispered.

“Exactly,” Chrysalis said. “He was the key. I never would have guessed it before, as when the invasion occurred, he was but a youngster, a mere infant in the eyes of his kind. However, from what my spies could gather, he began to grow in many ways, not only in power, but in connections. He is connected to the Elements of Harmony through a deep-seated friendship with each and every member. Spike is connected to those who had defeated me by way of marriage, as his more-or-less sister Twilight Sparkle is sister-in-law to Princess Cadence. He grew even more connected a few years ago by way of the fact that he began to tutor under Princess Luna herself, as Twilight Sparkle did under Princess Celestia. He also has a direct line of communication with Princess Celestia herself and thus has relationships with all of the most powerful ponies in all of Equestria. So yes, Asalah, he grew into a very fine key.”

“So... what happened? Why didn’t you, you know... try and use him?”

“That, my dear, is where things get a bit tricky,” the queen replied. “As I said, I followed him from Canterlot aboard the train. Now, I was in the cabin next to his, where I heard and even felt him meet Trixie, for what felt like the entire night, and even the next morning. After leaving the train, I followed him through Manehattan, keeping to shadows and crowds so that he wouldn’t suspect somepony was following him. I had been in disguise from Canterlot, though not in the same way that I usually can be. I cast a simple spell about myself so that I would look just any other unicorn, and once on board the Crowhop, I donned the persona of Meia that you grew to know.”

“And?”

“Well... I’m not entirely sure where my plans began to fall apart. Spike saved my life twice aboard the ship, once from almost being killed by some falling pulley and also by preventing my death from drowning.” Chrysalis was puzzled for a second by Asalah’s curious stare. “Oh, I fell overboard in a large gale. He dove in after me and brought me back from the brink of death.”

“Ah,” the zebra said, connecting the dots; hard to drown inside of a sea-worthy vessel if it isn’t sinking.

“Then, after we arrived in Equineland, he bought me a very nice dress and took me on a splendid trip to the White Cliffs of Roaner. I had told him, as Meia, that I had wanted to see them, and truth be told, I had always wanted to. I was just... I had always been too busy with all of my planning, all of my subterfuge back in my kingdom, to go and do so. I was never secure enough in any of my plans to just go out and see the world; I trusted nopony, Asalah, not even my own subjects. I felt so gracious for him taking me, even though it was something I had not felt in so long a time. We continued on, and the more time I spent with him, the less and less I was sure of myself. He was noble in spirit, and like freshly fallen snow, so pure in heart... soon enough, I could not bear the thought to try and corrupt it. Mostly because I started to feel for him, but possibly, deep down, I knew Spike as a corrupted creature would just be wild, untamable, and extremely dangerous. You as well as I saw what he did to those bandits back in the Samarea Desert. I could only imagine what he would do if he were always like that, or worse.”

“So, when would you think you started to, you know... love him?” Asalah asked softly, not wanting to dwell on Spike becoming some feral beast that would sooner tear somepony apart than look at them.

“Truthfully, I don’t know the exact moment,” Chrysalis replied, pinching the bridge of her nose to try and alleviate a small headache. “All I know is that I do now, and that... he brought me back. Back to what I was, so very long ago. My appearance my still be somewhat monstrous, but inside, he... he healed me, Asalah. He’s brought back the mare my mother knew before she died. Surely she is at peace now, for during my tyrannical days, she was undoubtedly rolling in her grave.” She let out a soft, sad sigh at that.

“What’s wrong?” Asalah asked.

“My mother would have loved Spike, would have loved to set us up, let us get to know each other for much longer than we have,” Chrysalis said softly, tears beginning to form as she talked. “I just know she would have wanted to see her grandfoals. Now look at me, a queen decades older than her husband, with his foal growing in her belly, and with so much to atone for. I regret it, Asalah; I regret all the bad I have done.”

“Truly?”

“Of course; can you imagine all those I’ve hurt in Equestria alone, never mind my own kingdom? How many of my subjects do not respect or love me, but fear me? So many are loyal to a fault, and yet, I can just feel that they wish I was nicer, better, far more loving and temperamental, like the princesses of Equestria. I regret the wrong I have done, and feel so guilty for it.”

“Why do you say that?” the zebra asked. “Why do you feel guilty for regretting all the wrong you have done? Isn’t it best to regret our past mistakes and learn from them, to move on and try and be a better pony because of them?”

“Because it just can’t be that easy, can it? I can’t just say “oh, I’m sorry, please forgive me” and it’ll be all right. There’s so much work I need to do, so many ponies I need to apologize to, so many wrongs I need to atone for, so much that I, that I...”

“You’re scared you won’t be a good mother?”

Chrysalis choked back another small sob. “What?”

“You’re scared,” Asalah repeated. “I can see it in your eyes and in your voice. You’re scared you won’t be as good a mother as yours was, all because of all these terrible things you did before you were married. You’re worried your past and your attempts to make up for it will be passed down onto your foals. Chrysalis... you’re scared that your sins will be carried by your babies.”

“Mhmm,” the queen nodded, gently wiping her eyes with a small neckerchief she magically produced of out thin air. “I’m... I’m scared there will be ponies out there looking for revenge, looking to make me pay, and if they can’t get to me... they’ll get to my foals. I’m scared they’ll hurt them, or... or worse...”

“Chrysalis, just listen to yourself,” the other mare gently replied. “You’re incredibly powerful with magic, you have a dragon for a husband, your foals will be half-dragon, and through Spike and us, you’ll be tied to some of the most powerful beings in Spike’s homeland. Any foals of yours will be entirely safe; I assure you.”

“All the magic in the world can’t protect you forever,” the queen said softly.

“But love is eternal, and can,” Asalah said, reaching across and gently squeezing her hand. “Don’t worry, Chrysalis; we will be with you always, as will Spike. Don’t worry on the distant future, on the what-ifs and maybes; just focus on the here and now, with us.”

The queen sniffled a bit before blowing her nose softly. “I... I guess you’re right,” she said finally. “I’m just worried Spike’s homeland won’t be safe for them, but, if you say they’ll be safe, then I’ll... I’ll try, okay?”

“That’s all we can ask of ourselves, herd-wife; all we can do is try. Now, on a happier note, have you been giving thought to the foal’s name?” Asalah didn’t like seeing anypony else unhappy, least of all a mare she loved like a sister; a very close sister.

Chrysalis slowly smiled, her gloomy demeanor washing away like the foam on a morning ocean tide. “Y-Yes, actually, I have been giving some thought to the matter,” she said slowly, her hand trailing from her face to her belly, gently rubbing it under the robes. “I’d like to give it a name befitting her ancestry.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, something simple, like maybe... Neurocordulia.”

Asalah didn’t say anything at first, instead just blinking for a few moments. “That’s... nice.”

“What about you?” the queen of the changelings asked. “I know you’re not with foal yet, but... I mean, who hasn’t thought of a name at some point?”

Asalah smiled, hiding the slight pang she felt in her heart. She wanted to be pregnant so badly, to carry Spike’s foal, no matter how much her body would change or how much it might be a burden for her. She just... she wanted to be a mother so much, it hurt her deep down inside that she wasn’t. She was surrounded by three mares just bursting with life and love, and she... she felt like she was missing out.

But she couldn’t let the others know that; she would keep it to herself, tuck it away and hide it until the day her prayers were answered and she too was carrying a foal of Spike’s. “Well, I’d... I’d like it to be something simple, and like yours, celebrating their ancestry. For a daughter, I was thinking... Cana. It means “Beloved” in my native language. What does Nero... Neuro... Neurio-,”

“Neurocordulia?” Chrysalis asked.

“Yes, that one. What does it mean?”

“Well, it’s a play off a few words. You see, any of my foals will be a mixture of dragon and changeling, which as you know, are somewhat insect-like. So, seeing as we are like “flies”, and Spike is a dragon, then Neurocordulia would be, you know... a “dragonfly” to everypony else, especially if any filly of ours is far more even in the distribution of their parent’s traits.”

“That... that's actually pretty clever. Does the name mean anything like mine might?”

“Maybe, I don’t know, I’m not too big on linguistics,” the queen replied with a small chuckle. “Maybe her full name is a bit too much of a mouthful for most; perhaps a nickname like “Cordulia” would be good enough?”

“Easier to remember, that’s for sure,” Asalah said with a small chuckle. Around them, two more pairs of eyes opened as well.

“Anypony know what time it is?” Trixie asked with a yawn.

“I’m guessing somewhere around late afternoon by now,” Chrysalis said.

“Where are we?” Maria asked, peering out the window as she rubbed an eye.

“Not too far from the borders of the Ottomare Empire, but far enough to not worry about somepony following us,” a voice said; Ebony Blade’s head was peeking in through a small window situated between the carriage cabin and the driver’s bench. He was upside-down; the window was positioned near his knees. “We’ll be stopping up ahead for the rest of the evening.”

“Where is that?” Asalah asked. “How do we know it’ll be safe?”

“We are in the lands of Transylmania, within the duchy of Lady Fyrefly; that is her castle up ahead.”

Four heads crammed against the windows. In the distance, looming on the side of a cliff stood a castle. Yet, it was no ordinary castle, for it seemed to float on a very low layer of clouds. Carved into the very side of a mountain, the castle looked older than most of the stone it was surrounded by. It was by no means gigantic in scope, but with granite slabs for towers, great spires high above the battlements, and no clear entrance other than what seemed to be roads carved into the mountain wall, it was indeed a very foreboding-looking place.

Almost like something out of a fairy tale... or a horror novel.

“Wow,” was all the mares said. The castle grew closer, expanding in size and complexity with every half mile. There were small waterfalls pouring down the rocky outer faces, walls and keeps upon walls built high and low, and great siege machines lining some of the towers. It gave the appearance of being nigh unassailable, as if it would take an army of tens of thousands many decades to even make it to the front gates.

Then, as they came over a hill, they saw why it seemed to float on the clouds. The castle itself was level with the hills they were on, but far off in the distance, and far below the castle, lay a large town, nestled in the hills and streams. Farmland, vineyards and orchards stretched all along the streams and rivers that coated the rolling terrain. Pastures laden with dairy cattle, sheep and goats dotted the more hilly areas, with windmills astride the hilltops to catch the wind that would grind grain into flour. If not for the fact they had come over this hill, the four mares might not have known the town existed.

“New Wingda, a bustling town lying in the protective shadow of Lady Fyrefly’s castle,” Ebony said.

“New Wingda? What happened to the old one?” a voice said. It seemed Eutropia was awake once more.

“Burned to the ground nearly a century ago,” he said simply. “Ottomare raid.”

“Who is Lady Fyrefly?” Maria asked. “Are we staying in her castle?”

“No,” the mercenary said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Castle Enstein is no place for you five, nor for your dragon. We will be staying in my home tonight, on a hill a small ways away from town.”

“Wait, you live here?” Chrysalis asked.

“No, I’m a squatter. Yes, of course I live there, from time to time, anyway,” Ebony replied.

“No need to be rude,” Chrysalis muttered as she slunk back against her carriage seat.

“Why is the Lady’s castle called Enstein?” Asalah asked.

“To be frank, Enstein Castle was the vision of our very first lord of these lands,” the mercenary replied. “Took his family nearly a century to build, but it has stood for nearly a thousand years, only growing deeper and deeper into the mountain with every passing decade.”

“How big is it?”

“Big enough,” he replied. “Come now, shut your blinds; strangers are not a common sight in this town. Eutropia, rejoin them; no arguing.”

Grumbling, the young griffin crawled back in the carriage, settling herself atop most of the passengers in a none-too-gentle manner.

“Pregnant mares on board, young lady; watch yourself,” Chrysalis growled, grateful Spike was mostly the griffin’s seat. However, he was mostly her seat; this upset the queen greatly, as Spike was her husband.

“Sorry,” the griffin mumbled as she drew the blinds shut. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Atop the carriage, Ebony Blade sighed. He’d been gone far longer than last time, and every time he came to town, ponies would ask him all sorts of questions. Where had he been? How was he doing? Did he want to swing down by the tavern and tell stories while smoking and getting drunk?

“Those last two sound pretty good,” Ebony muttered as he entered the town limits, passing several large apple trees along the road, their leaves swaying slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flicker, a shadow that seemed darker and thicker than any ordinary shadow. Turning his head quickly, he noticed the barest of movements behind a tree. Somepony was watching him. The only question was... would they follow him as well?

“Scylla might give them something to think about,” he muttered, tapping the blackened bastard sword at his hip. He knew how to use his sword very well, having named it after a monster of the ancient world and given it a reputation to match. It was almost like an extension of his self in that regard; he was well known amongst social classes because of it.

Still, he kept one hand on the reigns and his free one at his side, just in case.

Behind him, the shadow of the tree seemed to flicker, growing larger, before scurrying off into the evening. The lengthening shadows of the trees served as perfect series of cover for the figure as they moved towards their destination, lest some passerby see them. It didn’t matter; the sight of them alone would send any sane pony running for the hills in fright.

Entering the very outskirts of town, Ebony noticed something rather odd. There were torches all over the place, more so than usual, and the streets, which were usually so lively with ponies moving around in the evening, were nearly empty. There were a few groups of ponies, hooded and huddling close together as they walked on, giving his carriage a wide berth.

“Something’s not right,” he muttered as he passed several houses. The doors were shut, the windows barred, and there was even a large string of vegetables spread across the doorstep. Others were just as how they normally would have been, with open windows and welcoming doors, but far more looked... uninviting. “Something is definitely not right.” Passing a small group of hooded ponies, he turned to them. “What’s going on?”

“An evil has been felt in the countryside once again, Ebony Blade,” one of the figure said, holding aloft a small figurine in one of his hands as if to ward off whatever he was talking about. “Now, as it was many years ago, solitary ponies are being attacked and found alive but weak, usually becoming very sick soon afterwards. It is a sickness that only rest and much food can cure, and so far, it has claimed able-bodied stallions and mares everywhere, leaving them home-bound for days or, in some cases, weeks. We are taking precautions to guard against such a menace; we suggest you do as well.”

“Why should I? Ebony asked.

“There was an attack in town last night; the mayor’s daughter found sick and weak in their garden. We can no longer be taking chances; we must be vigilant in the face of such danger.” With that, the figures walked off in silence, their robes rustling around them.

“Superstitious folk,” the mercenary muttered as the carriage rode on, ignoring the other clusters of ponies wandering in protective packs. “Just a bug or something going around; not every little thing is caused by some otherworldly force. Every time some sickness comes through, charlatans sell random shit to try and cure it. Bathing in young colt piss doesn’t do anything for anything, nor does eating strange mushrooms laced with poppy seeds, pond scum and fish oil.”

That last one was why he was never allowed back in some of Istanbul’s seedier bars.

Still, as he went on his way through town, he did glance every now and then down alleys and above on rooftops. He saw nothing, though the instant the sun finally disappeared below the horizon, the temperature did begin to drop. Wrapping his large cloak tighter around himself, Ebony found himself drifting the same road towards the edge of town as he had so many times before, back when he was far younger and helping his father bring home stuff they bought at the market.

As they left the town and started to head uphill, the words of the hooded pony began to play over and over in his mind. As he arrived at a small iron gate, though, the mere sight of it immediately banished those thoughts from his mind.

Ebony Blade was finally home.

It looked like he had left it a day ago, not several months. The flower garden was blooming along the small stone wall that surrounded the yard, and the three apple trees had small, unripe fruits hanging from their branches. The garden was filled with green, though the bare dirt around the plants showed they were being weeded constantly. As he stepped down from the driver’s seat, Ebony took in a deep breath. A wafting smell of pine drifted from far behind, where a small cluster of the long-needled trees kept atop a small hill past his fence line. The large oak in the back yard, seen clearly over the small cottage, was just starting to bear acorns. No smoke wafted from the double chimneys, though the soot staining their rims indicated they indeed had been used frequently before.

“We’ll be staying here tonight,” he said, opening the door to the carriage. Eutropia tumbled out, nimbly landing on her feet in time to avoid a solid faceplant. “Do you need help?”

“No,” Eutropia said swiftly, dusting off her wings as she brushed past the mercenary, looking up at she did so. After a short pause, she resumed her walking. “Nice place you got here.”

The cottage was not a gigantic mansion, but it was very cozy for what it was. A shade under two stories high, with half of the lower story built into the size of the hill. Helped to keep the cellar cooler in summer, plus it anchored it more firmly than one just built on top of the ground. Tiles covered the frame of the sloped roof, with the majority being thickly thatched. Several small windows here and there, the glass mostly clear but somewhat blurred; the front door, square and inlaid with several bolts, stood astride a large covered porch. In the light breeze that swept through the area, the large swing hanging from the porch creaked slightly.

All in all, a very cozy looking home.

“Thank you,” Ebony said as the other slowly exited the carriage. “The door’s unlocked; pantry’s in the kitchen if you want something to eat. Three main bedrooms with double beds in each upstairs; I’ll be sleeping in the main bedroom downstairs.”

“Why so many beds?” Asalah asked as she helped to push Spike’s inert form along, which was magically hovering with aid from Chrysalis, Trixie and Maria. Seems they finally realized they could use magic more often for some of the more... simple things.

“I had a lot of brothers and sisters growing up. Dad left me the house in the will after he died from the pox. It’s not much, but it’ll be a good place to rest and recover. You’ve all been through a lot,” he said simply, glancing from the four mares, to the dragon, and back to Eutropia. “Some more than others. We’ll be staying here for a few days, maybe more if the weather turns sour.”

“What are you going to do now?” Maria asked as they walked along the small cobblestone path leading from the iron gate.

“I’ll be putting the carriage back by the garden shed,” the mercenary said, pointing to a building along the stone wall. From the look of things, it was just large enough to fit a carriage, and maybe a wood sled or two. “I’ll meet you inside in a bit. I... have some other things to take care of.”

Nodding, the mares pushed along their husband, and with a gentle slam, closed the door to the cottage behind them.

Climbing back aboard the carriage, Ebony Blade began to hear the words of the hooded pony once more in his head as he headed back to the shed. Something about attacks, sickness and solitary ponies after dark? Whatever; superstition, for sure. Driving the carriage inside, he hopped off and closed the doors, bolting it shut as a gust of wind ruffled his mane.

“Done for the day, time to see them,” he muttered, stripping off his travelling cloak. With a great yawn, he let his formerly-hidden bat wings stretch out behind him, feeling the breeze for the first time in what was likely too long. Normally, once home, he would have gone for a short flight, but tonight, he wouldn’t. He was aching from the trip, and right now, he had one last thing to do before he joined the others inside.

Stepping over the low stone wall, he walked along a smaller stone path, leading to the backyard. His daughter loved the backyard, as did his wife. They had always read books, did each other’s manes and played games of make-believe in the flowers. Sometimes, on calm, cool nights, he'd take them both up into the air, flying with them around their home. Little Calypso had been a strong flier for her age, just like her mother had been. Yes, the backyard, underneath the wide branches of the great oak tree, held so many precious memories for them all.

Perhaps that was why he had buried them there.

“Sorry I was away for so long,” Ebony whispered as he came upon the two small graves, simple slabs laid into the ground. “I meant to come back sooner, but a contract came up.”

It was hard to believe it had been ten years since he had last seen them; ten years since his daughter, on the eve of her own tenth birthday, took sick from some strange, unknown ailment and faded away. Ten years since his wife, overcome with despair at the passing of their only (and miracle) child, withered away and took sick from the pox, passing away mere months after her daughter. That year... it had almost broken him.

Ebony Blade had survived, but he had changed, and now, ten years later, the loss still hurt him more than he would ever admit.

“I brought you something,” he whispered, withdrawing a pair of flower bunches from his pocket. He had paid so much for these, but to him, it was worth every piece of gold. It was Edelweiss, hand-picked from the mountains to the west. They were such beautiful little flowers for two very beautiful ponies who just loved putting them in their manes. “I know how much you like these; both of you.”

As the light faded from sky high above, and the clouds slowly disappeared, he stayed there, kneeling alongside his lost love and daughter, wishing they were there with him. The breeze that ruffled his wings held with it a very slight bite, the icy chill of the mountains creeping down into the valley like icy fingers of an early winter. Still, he paid it no mind; neither cold nor fading light would make him leave this place until he decide so. So, in silence, he stayed for what he wished was an eternity, an eternity that, when over, would mean he would see them again. Had it not been for their passing, then perhaps his days as a mercenary would have ended by now. But no; they were gone from this world, and something deep inside him kept him searching, looking for answers to questions he didn’t know. That was why he wandered; that was the reason for his seemingly nomadic lifestyle.

Only when the stars began to appear on the distant horizon and the light of the moon began to glow did he rise to his hooves. For a moment, he thought he heard his daughter’s laugh on the wind, but dismissed it, the imaginings of an ever-grieving father. So, with a soft sigh, he turned and walked away, never looking back as he made his way inside.

Had he, Ebony Blade might have seen a shadow, thicker than the others, step out from behind the great oak tree and follow in his hoofsteps, taking great care to, almost reverently, avoid the two small graves covered in small, white flowers.

Author's Notes:

I am so sorry for taking so long with updating this. I pretty much lost my writing mindset during the beginning of summer and more often than not was just too lazy and/or busy (usually both) to set aside time to write, and thus didn't get anything done. What with work at the zoo, getting all college internship stuff in order, balancing my schedule, and stuff, I just... yeesh. What you see was written over the course of about six days, and the first 300 or so words were written almost a month ago.

Yeah, it took me so long to get this started, but then not a lot of time to write it out completely. Funny how that stuff works; this is my longest chapter yet for this story too.

Anyway, I will strive to write as much higher-quality stuff as I can within these upcoming weeks, as college is already starting up again in... 5 weeks, -ish? God, the summer has gone by so quick, it's crazy.

Also, many thanks to the talented Mr101 for giving me an OC, Ebony Blade, to use in this story. I'm still taking submissions for OCs, if anyone's interested. Like Mr101's, I'll thank their "creator" for letting me use them in the chapter I introduce them in.

See if you can find some of the few references in this chapter; I've worked a bit more than usual to hide them.

Until next time... happy travels.