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Moss Moon and the Lunar Spring (by MossMoon !ra8A5apHGs)

By DaybreakerAnon
Created: 2023-01-29 04:46:30
Updated: 2023-01-30 04:33:07
Expiry: Never
romancedarkanonymouscompleteviolenceadventuremoss moon/bat pony thread/

  1. This isn't my story, but I reposted it to the Writefag Thread and I'm posting it here because it's a fantastic green that doesn't get the love it deserves. My hope is that by posting the story here, more Anons will have a chance to enjoy it. Originally written in the Bat Pony thread by MossMoon (tripcode: !ra8A5apHGs) from May 2014-May 2017, and copied here exactly as he posted it. For those of you put off by the formatting- hang in there. He transitions to a more "traditional" greentext at Part 11.
  2.  
  3.  
  4. Moss Moon and the Lunar Spring
  5.  
  6.  
  7. Part 1
  8.  
  9.  
  10. >This is an Equestria of a different era. Primeval forests shroud the earth with their green shadows, and ponies live in enclaves separated by vast distances.
  11.  
  12. >You are a human warrior. Your kind has always been rare in this world. Massive and powerful of body compared to ponykind, your people live as wanderers and mercenaries, settling nowhere, rarely seeking out the company of others. Yours is a dying species.
  13.  
  14. >Your travels have taken you far and wide, but you are young yet, and there is much you have not yet seen. You find yourself now high on a green mountainside, in a fastness of bat ponies sheltered by stone and fed by hidden springs and orchards.
  15.  
  16. >There is a tavern here for travelers and locals alike. In that smoky room carved out of rock and wood, you sit at a table with a tankard of sweet fermented juice. The drink is made from some golden, globular fruit that grows on the steppes below the mountains.
  17.  
  18. >The bat ponies pay you little mind. You have encountered many ponies in your travels, and have been met with the full range of responses, from outright hostility to naive acceptance of your presence.
  19.  
  20. >The chiropteran variety gives neither. From your observations, they are a hardy and savvy species, often friendly and courteous to travelers, but highly secretive. Already you have fought for one of their warlords, on a mountain far from here; already, you have killed some of them. They were not easy prey.
  21.  
  22. >That was several years ago. You have had no interest in the mercenary life for quite some time. You have preferred instead to follow your wanderlust, seeking you know not what. Perhaps you will find it here, in this stony redoubt upon the mountain. Perhaps not.
  23.  
  24. >Your eyes travel over the murmuring crowd of bats. They suck at plates of fruits, and drink of the same juice that ripples in your tankard. They play games of chance and hiss and spit when they lose their golden coins. Their eyes are of many colors, and their bodies dark like the night.
  25.  
  26. >You have spoken to only the tavern’s master during your stay here. Some of the locals have eyed you coolly. Others have flashed you wry smiles before turning back to their games. None have approached you. You are not unwelcome here, but you are not a part of this place.
  27.  
  28. >A boisterous group of bat ponies sits at a round table by the door. They wear light armor and their weapons lie sheathed on the ground. The largest of them is a handsome stallion with a dark blue mane and eyes like a tiger’s. You can tell from the way they carry themselves – and by the distant manner affected toward them by the tavern master – that they are not native to this mountain hold.
  29.  
  30. >For an hour you watch them play their foreign games and chitter in their secret language. You daydream of what lies at the summit of this mountain.
  31.  
  32. >The door opens. A mare enters. Her mane and tail are short, and as dark and green as the forest blanketing the slopes. Her eyes are a muted gold color, like coins beneath the silt of a river. Through the left runs a livid pink scar. She has no wings. The stumps are barely visible beneath her coarse gray fur.
  33.  
  34. >The handsome, tiger-eyed stallion hoots at her. “Ready your weapons, lads,” he says. “A beast walks among us.”
  35.  
  36. >His subordinates laugh. The tavern stirs. The mare smiles.
  37.  
  38. >“Does my ugliness upset you?” she says. “I would think a brave warrior like you wouldn’t be bothered by a monster like me.”
  39.  
  40. >A grimace creases the stallion’s face. “What poor wit. Your words are as grotesque as you are.”
  41.  
  42. >“Then we share something in common.”
  43.  
  44. >There is light snickering among the bat ponies at this, but none of them say a word when the stallion’s face darkens, and none of them move when he stands to deliver a cracking hoofblow to her face.
  45.  
  46. >The mare staggers against the wall, and says nothing more. All is silent.
  47.  
  48. >The tiger-eyed stallion sits back at his table, contempt in his eyes as wordlessly he slams back the contents of his tankard. “What kind of place is this, where bounds think they’re clever?” he asks. “A town of bumpkins and disgraceful bounds. I will be glad to be gone in the morning. Tavern master! More drink.”
  49.  
  50. >Silently the master comes to fill his tankard, and gradually the life seems to seep back into the tavern. The bats go back to playing their games, and the clattering of dishes resumes.
  51.  
  52. >The mare with the dark green hair stands by the wall, nursing the mark on her cheek. She stares at the tiger-eyed stallion, her expression giving nothing away.
  53.  
  54. >When the tavern master has returned to his post behind the bar, the mare goes to him. You watch their quiet exchange of words. She passes him a few bits. He nods, and from under the bar he pulls a strip of parchment. He scrawls something on it before sliding it over. She takes it and departs the way she came. The stallion and his compatriots don’t even acknowledge her passing. Neither do any of the locals.
  55.  
  56. >You are not surprised by any of this. You are familiar with the treatment of those wingless bat ponies called bounds. They are outcasts, and in worse places than this, they suffer far more than what you just witnessed.
  57.  
  58. >You stay for another hour, your thoughts clouded, before finally you drain your tankard and toss a bit to the tavern master. You step out into the cool night.
  59.  
  60. ***
  61.  
  62. >Morning comes as a thin ray of orange light. It is one of many, piercing through the gaps in the stones that tower over this stronghold. You rub at your eyes and sit up in your bedroll. You hear giggling coming from somewhere nearby.
  63.  
  64. >You spent the night sleeping in the crook of a tall gnarled tree clinging to the rock. From your perch you survey your surroundings. Lights spill from the windows of the squat buildings below, and dark shapes move along the streets. The bat ponies are going about their daily chores, taking their wash to the streams, pools, and small waterfalls that run throughout the settlement. The sweet scents of fruit and cooking meat make your mouth water.
  65.  
  66. >A rustling comes from the foliage above you. You glance up to see two bat pony foals staring down at you, wide-eyed. They both scream and disappear, laughing. A moment later, you see two shadows gliding down to the earth below.
  67.  
  68. >You stretch, cracking out your neck, before gathering your belongings and climbing down.
  69.  
  70. >There is a peculiar stillness in this mountain fastness, a tranquility in the running waters and the shaded stones. Wiry trees like the one you slept on, with their twisting branches and pale, desiccated bark, rise from boulders and seek the sunlight where they can find it.
  71.  
  72. >The bat ponies themselves are quiet, but that is how they always seem to be. Even the most murderous among them will appear thoughtful and serene when found alone or with friends. It is only in battle that their eyes seem to fill with an energy you cannot name, and their screeches become terrifying.
  73.  
  74. >You walk through the dim streets, buying a fried cake covered in sugary icing from a young vendor manning a black-and-blue pinstriped stall. Your intention is to go to the market before heading for the summit.
  75.  
  76. >On the road you pass the tiger-eyed stallion and his group. They are heading up the slope, climbing the winding path toward the distant gap in the stone that is the stronghold’s uppermost exit. Some of his underlings cast wary glances in your direction, but he is too busy talking to notice you. You pass them without a word.
  77.  
  78. >The market street is just coming to life when you arrive. Ponies have set up stalls and carts decorated with darkly colored cloth. They form a ring around a small stone fountain, where water burbles quietly in a round featureless basin. With screeches they advertise their wares. Some are selling golden fruits from the steppes, while others hawk goods imported from distant enclaves: bolts of cloth, metal tools, gemstones, strange spices, books.
  79.  
  80. >Even at this early hour, the market is quickly becoming busy. Locals lazily walk from stall to stall, ignoring the screeches of the merchants as they examine their wares. You see bat ponies in cloaks, obvious travelers, come to market perhaps from the steppes or a neighboring mountain. Foals fly around overhead, laughing and chasing one another, stealing fruits from carts and generally making a nuisance of themselves.
  81.  
  82. >You buy dried food and a thicker blanket. The air is thin and cold in this place, and you are still far from the summit. A wizened unicorn sells you some thread and scrap cloth for cheap; new clothes are very rare to come by, and you have become accustomed to patching your frayed pants and cloak.
  83.  
  84. >An orange earth pony and her husband have hitched their wagon at the edge of the circle. Their spread of metal tools catches your eye. You buy a small hammer and some metal spikes that you intend to use as pitons for climbing, should you need them. Despite her thick accent, you’re able to negotiate a reasonable deal.
  85.  
  86. >You buy an apple from one of her overflowing barrels as well. As you sit by the fountain to eat it, you recognize a figure moving through the crowd: the scarred mare from the night before. On her sides hang two saddlebags. She makes her way through the market as if an outsider, weaving past the gathered bats who either ignore her or shy away as if she is unclean.
  87.  
  88. >She approaches a stall selling dry goods, where its proprietor – a bat pony – eyes her with some distaste. Nevertheless, when she gives him a slip of paper, his bright orange eyes flick over it briefly. He nods, ducks out of sight, and reappears with a small satchel. She slips this into one of her saddlebags.
  89.  
  90. >Your attention is disrupted when you feel something nudge you in the side. You look down to see a bat pony foal staring up at you. His eyes widen and he squeaks, but he doesn’t run away. You recognize him as one of the pair that was staring at you this morning.
  91.  
  92. >“Yes?” you ask.
  93.  
  94. >“Mister, can I ask you a question?”
  95.  
  96. >“Of course.”
  97.  
  98. >“How did you get so big?”
  99.  
  100. >You gesture with the apple. “By eating.”
  101.  
  102. >The foal scratches at the stone beneath its hooves. “Can… can I have something to eat?” he asks.
  103.  
  104. >You glance around the market, keeping one arm draped over your pouch of coins. Experience had taught you to be suspicious of distraction tactics by thieves. “Where are your parents?”
  105.  
  106. >“Don’t have any.”
  107.  
  108. >You shake your head. There was no way to know if the foal was telling the truth. You knew an innocent, wide-eyed face could lie just as easily as a cruel one. But you knew too well the plight of orphans.
  109.  
  110. >You toss two bits to the young bat pony. “Buy something for your sister, too,” you say. You spit apple seeds on the ground, having eaten the fruit core and all, and stand up.
  111.  
  112. >Immediately the foal snatches the two coins in his mouth and mumbles his thanks around them. With that he flies up into the air and to the far side of the market, landing on the roof of one of the stronghold’s many squat buildings, and runs off out of sight. You sigh.
  113.  
  114. >As you rub your hands together, trying to remove the last of the apple residue from your fingers, you feel a pair of eyes on you.
  115.  
  116. >You turn your head to see the wingless bat pony watching you from afar, looking at you with curiosity. You stare back, blinking. Her dull golden eyes shine in the morning shadows. A group of cloaked bat ponies walks between you, chattering amongst themselves, and when they have passed, she is gone.
  117.  
  118. ***
  119.  
  120. >The sky is endless and blue above your head, marred only by the ribbons of white clouds spread out like fibers of fresh-picked cotton.
  121.  
  122. >After finishing at the market, you had left through the redoubt’s upper exit, nodding to the guards as you stepped out onto the upward trail. For an hour you walked along under the canopies of great trees similar to those on the lower slopes, but these soon gave way to scrubland and low grasses.
  123.  
  124. >Some ways distant you can see the grass disappear as from the mountainside great spires of jagged black rock vault toward the heavens, and still further beyond that, the snowy moraines of the glacial summit tower high and hazy above you.
  125.  
  126. >The climb is tiring. The trail is steep, and the air grows thinner the higher you go. Pausing to sit on a small boulder, you stare down into the valley. The great mountains slope down from black and gray stone to the dark, rough green forests, down further still to the flat verdant steppes, down past drifting clouds of fog to the rich grasslands at the valley bottom. Much closer – for it too is quite high up on the mountainside – but still looking much smaller from this perspective, the fastness of the bat ponies resembles a clutch of gigantic dragon’s eggs, long petrified and fused together.
  127.  
  128. >After several hours more of climbing, you stop for your midday meal. You are enjoying your dried fruits and jerky of questionable origin when you hear voices coming down the slope. The loudest and most vocal of these is familiar to you. You look up to see a large stone jutting up out of the slope; the voices are coming from behind it. You expect you’ll be encountering them soon.
  129.  
  130. >Your prediction proves correct. Shortly after you finish eating, you make your way around the stone to see that the trail narrows to a long ridge of black rock, connecting this mountain to the next. The wind here is relatively mild, though it has grown stronger, especially now without the benefit of even shrubs as a buffer.
  131.  
  132. >You see in the distance a familiar group of bat ponies making their way across the ridge. There are nine of them in total, and they are led by a blue-maned figure. One at the rear spots you, but they do not stop. It is not until they reach the other side of the narrow rock spine that they halt. They turn and watch your approach.
  133.  
  134. >As you near the other side, it is the tiger-eyed stallion who calls out to you. “What are you doing out here?” he shouts over the wind. “We have no need for mercenaries.”
  135.  
  136. >“I’m just going to the summit.”
  137.  
  138. >“Why?”
  139.  
  140. >“I’ve never been there before.”
  141.  
  142. >The stallion gives his companions an incredulous look. He laughs. “Never been there before. My goodness.” He fixes his gaze back on you. “Let me tell you what’s there: rocks and snow. It’s not a place for your kind. If you keep going, we’ll be the ones finding your frozen corpse on the way back.”
  143.  
  144. >You shake your head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”
  145.  
  146. >Smiling faintly, the bat pony inclines his head. “You don’t seem to understand. There’s nothing for you up there. Turn around and go back the way you came. I’m sure you’ll find much happier work in the valley.”
  147.  
  148. >For a moment you stare down at him. The tacit threat of violence in his eyes, and in the way his compatriots hold their sheathed weapons, tells you that there will be only one outcome if you step forward off this ridge.
  149.  
  150. >You’d seen it before, this kind of posturing. You are not impressed. Regardless, you have no desire to spill blood over something like this. The mountain will be here long after this stallion is gone. The hilt of your sword remains untouched.
  151.  
  152. >“Travel safely,” you say. You step back.
  153.  
  154. >The flicker of a sneer crosses the stallion’s face, but he says nothing. With a flick of his head he gestures for his companions to continue up the trail. They turn, showing you their backs, and walk away.
  155.  
  156. >You do the same, heading back down the ridge in the direction of the fastness. The wind picks up, ruffling your cloak. The trail is narrow, but not such that it’s difficult to balance. Two sheer faces of stone drop off on either side, sloping sharply down into deep ravines below.
  157.  
  158. >You hear the arrow before you see it. It whistles far off its mark, carried by the wind, and careens off down into the ravine.
  159.  
  160. >You turn your head to see the group of bat ponies halted up on the rocky slope. The tiger-eyed stallion with the dark blue mane is taking aim. They are far, but not so far that you can’t see his face. His eyes are bright and hungry, his fangs are bared, and he lets out a bloodcurdling SKREEEEEEEECH.
  161.  
  162. >The second arrow again misses, but you barely notice. Your blood runs cold as the other seven bats pull out their bows as well.
  163.  
  164. >Charging them would be suicide. You turn and run, your feet pounding heavily on the trail as you sprint toward the other side of the ridge. At your back come arrows and screeches, the latter echoing down the slope. The wind howls in your ears.
  165.  
  166. >An arrow finds your left shoulder, the barb digging into your flesh. Your step slides close to the edge, rocks crumbling down into the ravine, the vision of a thousand-foot-drop into grey and green making your head spin.
  167.  
  168. >You recover your footing, teetering on your feet, running diagonally toward salvation. It’s only a few more lengths, a few more strides.
  169.  
  170. >Your calf burns and seizes as you are hit again. The arrow punctures through to the other side, jutting out just beside your shin. Just ahead the trail widens, meeting with the slope, with solid ground. You were close, so close. You feel your leg give out beneath you, sending you forward, tripping into space, your hands reaching out into nothingness.
  171.  
  172.  
  173. Part 2
  174.  
  175.  
  176. >You are Moss Moon, a gray bat pony mare with a dark green mane, and you are about to do something very familiar and very dangerous.
  177.  
  178. >It will soon be night. Lines of red and purple light shine through the cracks of the mammoth stones overhead, twilight breathing like magma. Only when full darkness comes will you make your move.
  179.  
  180. >The sounds of merriment fill the air. This evening marks the close of market day, and in celebration your brethren have gathered by the fountain, drinking and dancing beneath lanterns of many colors. You crouch in the shadows of an alleyway, thankful for once that your presence is so easily ignored.
  181.  
  182. >You grimace. Every day is a brutal reminder that your only friends in this place are two foals too young to know any better. They had been so pleased to give you the bits they’d grafted from the market.
  183.  
  184. >“A human gave me these,” the young colt Nightstone had told you, passing you two coins in the secret orchard that was your rendezvous spot. “I don’t know why. Aren’t they bad?”
  185.  
  186. “You were very brave,” you’d told him, awkwardly patting his head. “Humans are vicious creatures. They’ll fight for whoever pays them the most.”
  187.  
  188. >“He seemed nice.”
  189.  
  190. “Anyone can seem nice, Nightstone.”
  191.  
  192. >His sister, Hex, had given you a bit of good news. “We saw the Captain going up to the summit,” she’d told you, looking up at you with her huge, bright blue eyes. She stifled a snicker. “He seemed to think he knew where he was going.”
  193.  
  194. >This was good. The rumors they’d planted had paid off. Now you can only hope that the detour will be enough to keep Hunter Killer and his merry band off your back. You don't know how he learned of the Lunar Spring, but the more time he wastes looking in the wrong place, the better.
  195.  
  196. >First things first, however. You have to get out of the stronghold. Stopping you are the two guards posted at the eastern exit. The post is never left without a sentinel, even now, when all the bats are gathered for a night of drunken feasting. If they catch you trying to leave, your punishment will be severe. As a bound, you are forbidden to go outside of the settlement.
  197.  
  198. >Nevertheless, you have a plan. Your gaze gravitates to an old unicorn playing a fiddle; an outsider, and one that won’t just see you as a bound. He’s your best shot at getting out of here.
  199.  
  200. >You slip from the alleyway and into the milling crowd of bat ponies. Faces pass you by, familiar expressions of disgust on those who notice you. Eyes narrowed, fangs bared. They are repulsed that you would even think to show up here.
  201.  
  202. >Even this move is dangerous. No one will care if some drunkard decides he doesn’t like the look of you. No one will think twice if a reveler suggests that everyone push the bound into the fountain. You avoid making eye contact with any of them. You have eyes only for the old unicorn scratching out notes on his violin.
  203.  
  204. >“May the moon shine always in your sky, young bat,” the unicorn says, when you throw a bit into his hat. Beneath his yellowed horn and wispy white mane, his milky pale gaze searches your face. He’s probably too blind to even notice that you don’t have wings.
  205.  
  206. “Could you do me a favor?” you ask.
  207.  
  208. >The old fellow does an odd half-skip, half-jumping motion. “Anything for the sweet maiden of these cold stones, anything at all, all that I can do with these, my old bones.”
  209.  
  210. “There is a colt by the eastern exit that I love with all my heart,” you say. “Could you play him a song for me?”
  211.  
  212. >Raising his bushy brows, the old unicorn’s mouth forms a perfect “o”, before it breaks into a maniacal grin. “Yes indeed! Tonight is a night for adventure! Romance! Getting in another’s pants! I will do this thing for you, sweet maiden.”
  213.  
  214. You manage to grab him before he scampers off. “Go there in twenty minutes and start playing. He might try to make you stop, but that’s when I’ll come out of the shadows and confess my love to him. It will be terribly beautiful.”
  215.  
  216. >The old unicorn clutches a hoof to his chest. “My old heart! You bats know how to set a stage. I’ll be writing songs of this hour until the day that I finally die.”
  217.  
  218. >You give him your thanks and your best smile, and slip ten bits into his hat when he isn’t looking, as restitution for what’s about to happen to him.
  219.  
  220. >With this taken care of, you walk quickly from the market square, feeling as if every eye is upon you, and realizing that your heart is pounding in your chest. You always feel this way when you are just about to sneak away from the stronghold. It’s some inexpressible excitement, something terrifying and ecstatic. It feels too good to be fear.
  221.  
  222. >You make your way back to the secret orchard, passing beyond the irregular rows of domiciles to reach the stronghold’s inner perimeter of grass, trees, and raw stone. Narrow creeks burble down a network of ravines, the clear water cascading down the slope and beyond the stone walls of the settlement.
  223.  
  224. >Hex and Nightstone appear after you identify yourself with a series of screeches. They bounce out of a fat-trunked tree and lie splayed out on the ground, their bellies filled with wild fruits.
  225.  
  226. >From a saddlebag you pull out twenty-three bits, the majority of those that remain in your possession, and pile them on the ground before the foals. They stare at the mound of coins in awe.
  227.  
  228. “Be careful with it, okay?” you say, doing your best to look reassuring. “This has to last until I get back. Eat the fruit out here, and don't buy anything unless you really need it. And for Goddess’ sake keep it hidden.”
  229.  
  230. >Nightstone bursts into tears, and Hex looks little better. They rush to throw their tiny hooves around you, hugging you with all their might. Unused to contact, you go rigid, then relax. You feel your own eyes getting misty.
  231.  
  232. >“Can’t we go with you?” Nightstone asks, between sobs.
  233.  
  234. Your lashes feel strangely heavy. It’s difficult to swallow. “You know I can’t take you,” you say gently. “You all have to look out for everypony while I’m gone, okay? I know you can do it.”
  235.  
  236. >You feel them nod against you, and you do your best to hug them in return. You feel a pang knowing that out of all ponies, as improbable as it seems to you, it is you that these two foals look up to.
  237.  
  238. >You don’t know how or why. Your whole life has been one long trail of misery. And yet these foals seem to believe that you are something worthwhile. They seem to think that you are as strong and capable as any other bat pony. Even if you know that isn’t true. You aren’t going to be the one to tell them otherwise.
  239.  
  240. >When finally you pull away and tell them to shoo, to hide their gold and be good while you’re gone, you exchange some final raspberries and depart before you too begin to cry. You turn back toward the flickering lights of the settlement and make for the eastern exit.
  241.  
  242. >This part of the stronghold is quiet, the sounds of laughter and revelry distant. You press your back against the shaded wall of a house, hiding beneath an arch that crosses between two adjoining rooftops. That fearful excitement returns, making you shiver all over.
  243.  
  244. >You peek down the empty street. The guards stand on either side of the gate, looking bored. Night has fully fallen. The tips of their spears shine like silver in the moonlight. Any minute now, the old unicorn should be making an appearance.
  245.  
  246. >A shuffle and a groan behind you makes you jump. You whirl around to see a large, shadowy figure staggering through the alleyway in your direction. You freeze, your heart in your throat, calculating whether or not to flee, when the creature slumps to the ground.
  247.  
  248. >Your nose twitches. Your mouth instinctually waters. You smell blood.
  249.  
  250. >Cautiously approaching, you prod the creature with a hoof. You dart away when it rolls over, and stare tentatively at the thing when it looks up at you with its sunken eyes. It’s that human.
  251.  
  252. >“Good evening,” he says. He looks horribly pale.
  253.  
  254. “What happened to you?”
  255.  
  256. >“I was going to the summit. A stallion and his friends shot me.”
  257.  
  258. A twinge of guilt goes through you. “Blue mane?” you ask. “Weird eyes?”
  259.  
  260. >“That’s the one.” The human struggles to get up, and groans as if in pain. He pushes his back up against the wall of the alleyway.
  261.  
  262. “Not so loud,” you hiss. You steal a glance around the corner, and breathe easier when you see that the guards haven’t moved. “That was Hunter Killer. He’s a captain for one of the Asperi warlords. Whichever one owns the mountain now, I can’t keep track.”
  263.  
  264. >“I told the guards about it.” The human winces as he shifts his cloak to the side, revealing a shallow wound in his chest. “But they seemed to agree with his decision.”
  265.  
  266. >Glancing him over, you see two more wounds, one in the shoulder and the other in his calf. These have already been bound by what looks like scrap cloth.
  267.  
  268. “He outranks them,” you explain. “They probably thought they could impress him by killing you.”
  269.  
  270. >“That explains that.” He squints at you. “There’ll be more looking for me soon. I don’t suppose you could help me get out of here?”
  271.  
  272. You take a step back. “Did – did you kill them?”
  273.  
  274. >“Of course not.”
  275.  
  276. >You study his expression, searching for untruths. All you see is a haggard face and matted hair.
  277.  
  278. >This is not the first human you’ve encountered. You still remember when, as a foal, you watched in the distance as mercenaries cleaved through dozens of ponies, their huge weapons sending up plumes of red. You remember the impassive way they walked, the way their expressions never seemed to change.
  279.  
  280. >But perhaps not all were bad. This one did give his bits to Nightstone. You know that money is not a proxy for kindness, however.
  281.  
  282. “I…”
  283.  
  284. You suddenly hear the sound of singing nearby, and of dancing hooves. The unicorn has arrived.
  285.  
  286. >“Greetings, gentlecolts!” you hear him cry out. “Care for a song?” You can’t see him from the alleyway, but you can visualize him trotting toward the guards.
  287.  
  288. >This is it, your one window to get out of here. Your gaze flicks between the alleyway and the human. He hasn’t moved.
  289.  
  290. “Fine. Hold still.”
  291.  
  292. >The guards might not see or hear your approach, but they would certainly smell it if you do nothing about the human’s open wound. You approach him, taking out a bandage from one of your saddlebags. You press this against his chest to staunch the bleeding.
  293.  
  294. >More singing and dancing comes from the exit. You hear the guards telling the old unicorn to stop, but he ignores them, Goddess bless him.
  295.  
  296. >Some blood gets on your nose. Surreptitiously you lick it up. It’s the most delicious thing you’ve tasted in months.
  297.  
  298. “Let’s go,” you say. “Keep low, and don’t make a sound.”
  299.  
  300. >The human staggers to his feet and follows you to the alley’s mouth. You peek around the corner to see the guards chasing the unicorn in an almost comic display, waving their spears as he manically places his fiddle. He sings:
  301.  
  302. >“Can we capture the beauty of a night like this / a perfect night for a maiden’s kiss?”
  303.  
  304. >Keeping to the shadows, you hug the walls that adjoin the road, heading straight for the unguarded exit. Despite his size and unsteadiness, the human manages not to make a sound.
  305.  
  306. >You hear a loud THWACK and a grunt as one of the guards finally tackles the unicorn. A distant clattering suggests that someone has thrown the fiddle down an alley. “Get out of here, old timer!” a guard barks.
  307.  
  308. >The exit stands before you, a rectangle of starlight and stone, a door to cool air and freedom. You dash outside and dive into some bushes, hiding out of sight.
  309.  
  310. >Your new companion is not so lucky. Just as he enters the frame of the exit, standing outlined in the blue darkness, you hear another shout from a guard.
  311.  
  312. >“Hey, you! What are you doing?”
  313.  
  314. >The human freezes. Your heart thuds in your chest as you stare at him, wide-eyed. Will he give you away?
  315.  
  316. >Thoughtfully, turning like a fat bovine creature, the human makes an about face in the doorway. “Is this not the exit?” he asks, his speech slurred slightly from blood loss.
  317.  
  318. >“The eastern path is extremely dangerous. There are rockfalls and deadly creatures. No one should go that way.”
  319.  
  320. >The human shrugs. “Well I think I’ll be jusht fine. Don’t mind me.”
  321.  
  322. >There is silence. You can’t see them, but you can imagine that guards are exchanging a bewildered look.
  323.  
  324. >One of them finally speaks up. “Very well. I suppose we can’t –”
  325.  
  326. >He is interrupted by more shouting from inside the stronghold, and the sound of running hooves. The human mutters a curse, and immediately turns and runs.
  327.  
  328. >As he passes you, for an instant he makes eye contact, and makes a motion with his head, as if to say: “Go.”
  329.  
  330. >And then he is gone, running down the path into the deep forest of the eastern slope. A moment later, a squad of guards runs out of the exit, chasing after him. Obscured by shrubbery, you remain completely unnoticed.
  331.  
  332. >You peer out from between the leaves, watching them go. Overhead the near-full moon silently sheds its light. You tremble, filled at once with both excitement and fear. You’ve made it outside, but what will you do now…?
  333.  
  334.  
  335. Part 3
  336.  
  337.  
  338. >You are a human warrior, and you are running for your life.
  339.  
  340. >Branches and brambles cut at your face as you run blindly through the dark forest. From behind you come the shrieks and screeches of your pursuers.
  341.  
  342. >Your breathing is ragged as your boots pound the forest floor. It’s as if you can’t get enough air. You feel like you’re going to faint at any moment. Too much blood loss, too much exertion. You are numb to the pain of your ruined calf.
  343.  
  344. >Some small part of your brain tells you that you can still live, that you can lose them in the forest. Your muscles scream and your lungs burn, but you refuse to simply lie down and die. And yet the screams surround you, warping into eerie keening laughter. The sound of death.
  345.  
  346. >You stumble into a clearing. The moon and stars bathe the wood in a relief of blue. A hiss makes you whirl. Stalking out from the trees, fangs bared, eyes glowing red, are three bats with silver spears. Your hand goes to your sword.
  347.  
  348. >A burst of white light floods your vision. The war cries of the bats twist into screams of fear. You hear a loud CRACK, and the sound of running hooves, more screams.
  349.  
  350. >Whatever horror you face now, you cannot see it. Your vision is a sea of shifting green and pink overlaid on blackness. You stumble into a tree and collapse against it. The woods have gone silent, save for the shrieks of the retreating bats, growing fainter and fainter.
  351.  
  352. >With your back against the tree trunk, you stare up at nothing, feeling heavy.
  353.  
  354. >You start with a jolt when two strong hooves plant themselves on your shoulders. You try to stand, but the strength has left your legs.
  355.  
  356. >A voice hisses. “Calm down, it’s me.”
  357.  
  358. >Who? Yes, that mare. The bound who helped you. You struggle to remain focused. Still you can see nothing. You can hear yourself asking about the guards. You can still fight them, you have your sword. You can still fight them –
  359.  
  360. >“Hush.”
  361.  
  362. >As you finally relax, and your vision slowly fades to blackness, you are acutely aware of the scent of sweat and garlic. Her breath is hot on your forehead.
  363.  
  364. >Then sleep.
  365.  
  366. ***
  367.  
  368. >You awaken to darkness, and the feeling of leaves under your back. You are being dragged through the forest.
  369.  
  370. >Your head is pounding. Your mouth is impossibly dry and your stomach roars with hunger. It takes you a moment to remember where you are and what you were doing. Hunter Killer… the guards… the mare, yes. She saved you. You let out a grunt.
  371.  
  372. >She lets go. “You’re awake?”
  373.  
  374. “Guh.”
  375.  
  376. >You hear rustling. A moment later, she presses a bottle of something to your lips. “Drink this.”
  377.  
  378. >Without hesitation, you drink down the contents. The liquid is extremely sweet, and you feel energy spilling into you like fire. You drain the bottle.
  379.  
  380. “What was that?” you ask, struggling to form the words.
  381.  
  382. >“Just some juice,” she says. “Can you stand?”
  383.  
  384. >Wordlessly you push yourself to your feet. You feel off-balance and dazed, but strong enough. You nod, hoping her vision is better than yours.
  385.  
  386. >To your surprise, you hear what sounds like a sigh of relief. “Goddess. You had me worried.” Her shadowy form steps a few feet away. She ducks her head. “Come on, we have to go.”
  387.  
  388. >You shakily follow her as she tramps off into the brush. You notice that she seems to be trying to make as little noise as possible. You do your best to follow her example.
  389.  
  390. “Where are we?” you ask.
  391.  
  392. >“The Sunwood,” she says. “It’s… very dangerous. There are monsters here that only come out at night. Blood-drinkers.” She pauses. “Some are following us right now.”
  393.  
  394. >You cast a glance around the surrounding trees. At first you see only the dim outlines of the trunks, but you shiver involuntarily when a pair of yellow eyes makes itself visible in the distance. A moment later, two more pairs blink open nearby.
  395.  
  396. >The mare notices your reaction. “We’re okay, for now,” she says. She lifts a hoof to her neck, and you notice that she’s wearing some kind of necklace. “They hate the smell of garlic. I only have one of these, so just… stay close to me.”
  397.  
  398. >Silently you follow her through the forest. The occasional glance behind you reveals still more pairs of eyes. The number of creatures stalking you is slowly growing. Soft whispering catches your ear, disturbing and alien.
  399.  
  400. >Your guide presses on. You can feel her fear just as easily as you can feel your own, but still she walks resolutely forward, gliding through the brush as if she has done this a hundred times.
  401.  
  402. >A small, rocky cliff looms ahead of you. The mare trots over to stand alongside it.
  403.  
  404. >“You’ll be safe up there,” she tells you. “Use me to climb up.”
  405.  
  406. “What about you?”
  407.  
  408. >“I’ll go a different way.” Even in the darkness, you see her smile up at you. “Don’t worry about me. Hurry up there.”
  409.  
  410. >Feeling ill at ease, you climb onto her back. She feels impressively sturdy beneath your feet. With her as a foothold you’re able to grab the lip of the cliff. You pull yourself up and over.
  411.  
  412. >In the hurried way she moves and speaks, you sense that something is about to happen. “Keep moving!” she shouts. “I’ll meet you at the bottom!”
  413.  
  414. >You look down to see her rifling through one of her saddlebags as she dashes off into the forest. A moment later, there is another bright flash of white light.
  415.  
  416. >And then the forest comes alive.
  417.  
  418. >A deafening cacophony of roars, whistles, and screams rends the night air. You see hundreds of dark forms stampeding off in the direction she went. The ground shakes. The dark treetops, turned blue by moonlight, tremble violently.
  419.  
  420. >As you stand on the precipice of the cliff, a cool breeze blowing behind you, you realize that the mare is running a diversion. She must’ve known that eventually the two of you would have needed to run.
  421.  
  422. >She must’ve known that you, in your state, would never have made it. And now she is risking her life, for you.
  423.  
  424. >Swallowing hard, you turn and keep moving as she commanded. Not every blood-drinker had followed her. As you had looked down into the forest, you had been met by the pallid gaze of several creatures, watching silently.
  425.  
  426. >You have no interest in seeing whether they can climb. You hurry as fast as you are able down the grassy slope, limping on your injured leg. There are trees here as well, and they thicken as the land dips lower. Soon you are once again in darkness, and you can hear only your own heartbeat.
  427.  
  428. >The slope eventually bottoms out into a copse of tall trees. You wait here for a few tense minutes, when rustling comes from a nearby stand of bushes. Relief washes over you when the green-maned mare emerges.
  429.  
  430. >“That should hold them off for awhile,” she tells you, panting. “I ran them into a grotto. They hate water even more than they hate garlic.”
  431.  
  432. >As you follow her westward, she looks back at you, her expression strangely guilty. “Sorry for leaving you back there.”
  433.  
  434. You shrug. “Not a problem.”
  435.  
  436. >“You’re certainly taking this in stride.”
  437.  
  438. “It’s been a fun night.”
  439.  
  440. >She laughs. “That’s… one way to describe it.”
  441.  
  442. >The two of you weave your way past trees and rocks, following a trail that she seems to know by heart. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, and for the first time you can actually see the mare you’re following.
  443.  
  444. >She’s thicker and broader in the flank than the average bat pony, and clearly quite strong. Her coat is a stone gray color, her messy mane and tail both dark green. Like all bounds, she has no wings. You can’t make out her cutie mark, but you see a livid scar – like the one running through her eye – on her leg.
  445.  
  446. >“What’s your name?” she asks.
  447.  
  448. “I don’t have one.” You explain: “We only take on names as we need them. At all other times, we are anonymous.”
  449.  
  450. >“Anonymous, huh.” She seems to mull it over. “I like it. I’m Moss Moon.” She stops to shake your hand with her hoof. “Nice to meet ya.”
  451.  
  452. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”
  453.  
  454. >“Don’t mention it,” she says, smiling. “You looked like you needed it.”
  455.  
  456. For a moment, you stare down at her in silence. “I’d like to go with you, if you’ll have me.”
  457.  
  458. >Her eyes widen. “You mean, travel with me?”
  459.  
  460. “Of course.”
  461.  
  462. >She looks away, as if suddenly embarrassed. “I… wouldn’t be able to pay you.”
  463.  
  464. “Wherever you’re going, I haven’t been there,” you say. “Seeing that place will be payment enough.”
  465.  
  466. >She stares up at you with her huge golden eyes, gauging the truth of your words, as if weighing your very soul. Slowly, her smile returns. “I guess it’s a deal, then.” She starts off once more. “We have to make it to the Breaker by dawn. The guards’ll be a lot braver when day comes, and they’ll come out looking for you again.”
  467.  
  468. >Together you head off into the wood, shaded by dark trees, as the moon above holds its silent vigil over the night.
  469.  
  470.  
  471. Part 4
  472.  
  473.  
  474. >You are Moss Moon, and you have a dilemma.
  475.  
  476. >Afternoon is settling over the forest. Here the canopy is so thick that only a little light gets through, burning gold around the outlines of the leaves.
  477.  
  478. >Ahead, just visible in the shadows, are the beginnings of a village built in the wood. It stretches off into darkness. The lights of distant windows glow orange, and you can smell the sweet fragrance of fruit and smoke in the air.
  479.  
  480. >Your traveling companion follows beside you, tall and imposing, though he walks with an obvious limp. It’s him that is troubling your thoughts.
  481.  
  482. >Again you feel guilt creep its way into your belly, as your decision once again comes to the forefront of your mind. As much as it pains you, you feel as if it would be best if you ditched the human here, in this little village.
  483.  
  484. >These past few days have only served to demonstrate just how much more difficult your journey will become if he comes with you. He’s slower than you, he makes a lot of noise, and he’s wounded. All of which makes him a liability.
  485.  
  486. >You were lucky before, in the woods with the blood-drinkers. You knew the land well enough to get him out of danger before the situation got out of hand. But the further inland you go, the more likely it is that there might come a time when you can’t save him if you get into trouble.
  487.  
  488. >Yes, you tell yourself. It’s better this way. The ponies here are kind; they will treat him well, until his injuries heal and he can go off on his own. Leaving him here is the best thing you can do, for both him and you.
  489.  
  490. >“What is this place?” he asks, as the two of you enter the village.
  491.  
  492. >“Just a small settlement,” you say. “The ponies here call it ‘Hollow Shades.’”
  493.  
  494. >You pass a few of the locals on your way through. They smile and nod to you politely. Some of them even recognize you. None of them know you are a bound; the cloak wrapped around your body sees to that.
  495.  
  496. >They are more inquisitive of your companion. It’s likely that some of them have never seen a human before. For a few minutes a foal with bright green eyes sneaks along behind you, before darting out to nip at his leg. She runs off into the trees, laughing and screeching.
  497.  
  498. >You approach your destination: a house of wood, thatch, and stone, built straddling a small pool of still water. You pound on the door with your hoof.
  499.  
  500. >Several minutes pass before the door opens. There standing in the doorway is an old bat pony with milky white eyes. Her mane is long and the color of clouds. She sniffs the air. Her face breaks into a thin, wavering smile.
  501.  
  502. >“You’ve tricked them for another year,” she says, with a voice like rust. “Welcome home, Moss Moon.”
  503.  
  504. >Your voice is a rush of emotion. “Grandmother…”
  505.  
  506. >Almost you go to embrace her, but unlike the other ponies of this place, she knows the truth of what you are. Even to her, you are an untouchable. You hold back, contenting yourself with her smile.
  507.  
  508. >“You are not alone.” The old mare inclines her head. She sniffs again. “Oh my… it’s been so long since I’ve smelled a human.” She bares her crooked fangs. “Step closer, dearie. I’d like a better whiff.”
  509.  
  510. >“Leave him be,” you say. “This is Anonymous. He’s… traveling with me.”
  511.  
  512. >He nods. “Pleased to meet you.”
  513.  
  514. “So polite,” says Grandmother. She licks her lips. “Why don’t you come into my parlor? It’s warmer inside. Plenty of places to lie down and sleep.”
  515.  
  516. You laugh. “Don’t get any ideas, Grandma. He’s bled enough already.”
  517.  
  518. >She ignores you, sniffing at the bandages wrapped around his leg. The human, for his part, does his best to stare intently at the doorframe.
  519.  
  520. >Eventually Grandmother stands abruptly. “Right, right.” She wipes the drool from her mouth. “Come in, then. Let’s get on with it.”
  521.  
  522. >You follow her into her little home, passing through the vestibule into a small chamber where a fire roars in the hearth and water from outside runs in a stream just under the floorboards. On the shelves are row after row of bottles: dozens of powders, crystals, colored liquids, bones, and metals.
  523.  
  524. >Grandmother begins sorting through them. Her mouth opens and the bottles rattle as she emits high-pitched notes. Gingerly she pulls down bottle after bottle, until a neat row has formed on the worktable before her.
  525.  
  526. >“The moon will be full soon,” she says casually, as she goes about her task. “You’d best hurry.”
  527.  
  528. >Your heart sinks a little more as you think of your new friend and his lumbering pace.
  529.  
  530. “That’s not all,” you say. “Somepony else has learned of the spring. I’ve held him off for a little while, but I don’t know for how long.”
  531.  
  532. >“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Who is it?”
  533.  
  534. “A captain for one of the Asperi.”
  535.  
  536. >The old mare laughs, a sharp, unpleasant sound. “A stupid colt, then. I smell a bad future for that one.”
  537.  
  538. You swallow. “Even so. Do you think you could work a spell against him? I don’t want him to find us.”
  539.  
  540. >Grandmother’s blind eyes turn coy. “Perhaps. I would need something…”
  541.  
  542. >Wordlessly you reach into your saddlebags and pull out the wrapped cloth containing hairs from Hunter Killer’s tail. He hadn’t even noticed you swiping them, being too intent on marching back to his table after he struck you.
  543.  
  544. >Grandmother takes them and gives them a sniff. “This will do. There is, of course, the matter of payment…”
  545.  
  546. >You reach for your purse of coins, but the mare shakes her head. Saliva pools in the corners of her mouth. “No, something tastier than gold.” She inclines her head toward the human.
  547.  
  548. >Flabbergasted, you shake your head.
  549.  
  550. “Grandmother, no, I can’t –” you start to say, before your companion steps forward.
  551.  
  552. >“It’s all right,” he says. “It’s only blood.”
  553.  
  554. >You watch as he holds out his arm. Swiftly the old mare drags it to her chest with her wiry forelimbs. With one smooth motion of her head she bares her fangs and bites into his wrist. He stiffens, but does not make a sound as she drinks deep.
  555.  
  556. >When she has finished, some of the color has drained from his face. She pulls away, leaving two small punctures in his flesh. Twin rivulets of blood seep down his wrist and soak into his sleeve.
  557.  
  558. >Grandmother smacks her lips. “You’ll have to bring this one back, Moss Moon. He has a wonderful taste.”
  559.  
  560. You groan. “Grandmother…”
  561.  
  562. >“I will bewitch the stallion for you,” she says, turning back to her worktable. “It should take no more than one week. Then the curses will fall upon him, and he will wish he had never heard the words ‘Lunar Spring.’”
  563.  
  564. >Her bloodlust slaked, Grandmother begins taking the bottles she pulled from the shelves and placing them in your saddlebags. You take this opportunity to bandage your companion’s wrist. He smiles and thanks you, and again you feel a pang of guilt.
  565.  
  566. >From Grandmother you obtain six bottles of what you came here to get: a special kind of salt, which can only be found in Hollow Shades. To obtain it, the old mare draws water from the pool running through her home and decants it into a ceramic basin composed of shallow square-shaped compartments. There the water evaporates, leaving behind the valuable crystals.
  567.  
  568. >“Be careful, girl,” Grandmother says, as you say your goodbyes. “I feel a cold wind blowing toward that Stronghold you call home. Wind brings snow, and snow brings death. The foals will shiver in their beds, and not even you can stop that.”
  569.  
  570. >To your surprise, she puts a hoof on your shoulder. Her expression is grim, her milky eyes unseeing.
  571.  
  572. “I’ll do what I can,” you say, shivering a little. Something about her words fills you with dread. Her premonitions are rarely wrong.
  573.  
  574. >“That’s a good girl.” The old mare turns sharply to stare through Anonymous. “You, boy. Watch over this one. She may be sturdy, but she can’t hold up the world by herself.”
  575.  
  576. >“I will,” he says. He smiles. “Grandmother.”
  577.  
  578. >“Cheeky. My old teeth are aching. It’s an old bat’s tale, but they say that human blood is the best remedy –”
  579.  
  580. “We’re going,” you say, trying not to laugh. “Goodbye Grandma.”
  581.  
  582. >The air is chilly when you step outside. Afternoon is turning to evening, and the faint sunlight is transmuting from gold to red.
  583.  
  584. >Your human companion rubs at his arms as if to warm himself, then runs a hand over the bandage on his wrist.
  585.  
  586. “Sorry about that,” you say. “She’s kind of an eccentric.”
  587.  
  588. >“It’s not a problem. I know bat ponies have a fondness for blood.”
  589.  
  590. >He grimaces as soon as the words leave his mouth, as if recognizing a faux pas. But he says nothing more, and you decide to let it go. He’s not wrong, anyway.
  591.  
  592. >The two of you walk in silence toward the village inn. Grandmother’s words resound in your mind. Your thoughts are so clouded that you almost miss your companion’s question.
  593.  
  594. “Mm? What was that?”
  595.  
  596. >“If you don’t mind my asking,” he repeats, “could you tell me why this Lunar Spring is so important to you?”
  597.  
  598. >You feel a tugging at your heart. This is the moment you’ve been dreading. You know now that if you explain it to him, there will be no way that you can just leave him here. That kind of knowledge – knowing what the Lunar Spring truly is, what it can do – would compel anyone to seek it out, no matter who they are.
  599.  
  600. >You struggle to formulate a response, debating internally. Your mouth opens to speak, but as you do, you hear a snickering from behind you.
  601.  
  602. >“What a strange sight this is, a bound and her pet. I thought I’d killed you, human.”
  603.  
  604. >You turn around, your heart sinking. Whatever curse Grandmother has in store, it can’t help you now. There before you on the main street of Hollow Shades, flanked on either side by spear-wielding soldiers, is a smirking, blue-maned stallion with tiger eyes. Hunter Killer has found you.
  605.  
  606.  
  607. Part 5
  608.  
  609.  
  610. >You are a human warrior, and you are about to have a showdown.
  611.  
  612. >The streets of Hollow Shades are quiet, the lone banner of the inn fluttering in the wind. Hunter Killer eyes you smugly. His cohorts – two large bat ponies – begin to approach in semicircular paths, giving you a wide berth.
  613.  
  614. >“I see you’ve run from home.” Hunter Killer says. “So the bound wishes to be free, does she? Is that why she sent this one to kill me?” He juts his chin in your direction.
  615.  
  616. >Moss Moon shoots you a look, as if to signify that she’ll do the talking. You keep your mouth shut.
  617.  
  618. >“You’re mistaken,” she says. “I did no such thing.”
  619.  
  620. >The stallion closes his eyes and mutters a tut-tut. “There are lies, and then there are stupid lies. He came skulking up that mountain with the intent to kill me, don’t deny it. It’s as plain as your ugliness.”
  621.  
  622. >Your companion ignores the slight. She speaks her next question carefully. “Did you come here to find me?”
  623.  
  624. >Hunter Killer is regarding his hoof with apparent boredom. “Don’t be so narcissistic. You’d think I’d come to this backwater to chase the likes of you?” His tiger eyes settle upon her. “But now that we’ve found you, I think we’ll have a bit of sport.”
  625.  
  626. >You watch carefully the two soldiers stepping toward you. Their spears are still on their backs, and they have not yet assumed an aggressive posture. Still, you are on your guard. You can see Moss Moon’s gaze flick between them before returning to their captain.
  627.  
  628. >“Where’s the rest of your squad?” she asks.
  629.  
  630. >“Why would I tell you?” The stallion snickers derisively, an unpleasant, high-pitched sound. “You’re a bound, and an enemy of the Asperi to boot, who tried to have me assassinated.”
  631.  
  632. >“It’s admirable that you’re so protective of your conscripts. You wouldn’t want me to find them, I assure you.”
  633.  
  634. >With a sneer, Hunter Killer tosses his mane. He waves his hoof dismissively. “If you must know, I left them to occupy that peasant stronghold. Somepony has been spreading false rumors, and there will be reprisals.” A saucy grin creases his handsome face. “Perhaps they’ll make more bounds. It would be so easy to make another you.”
  635.  
  636. >Before you can react, a streak of grey and green darts forward. There is a sharp yowl and a weighty thud. Moss Moon has tackled Hunter Killer.
  637.  
  638. >Immediately you move to assist, but the stallion’s two bodyguards rush to block your path. They bare their fangs and hiss.
  639.  
  640. >Instinctively your hand moves to your sword, but something deep inside you resists the impulse to pull it free. It’s been a long time since you’ve taken up arms against a pony, and you’re not going to change that now.
  641.  
  642. >You will, of course, happily beat the tar out of the little bastards. You put up your dukes.
  643.  
  644. >Screeches from the biting, punching tangle that is Moss Moon and Hunter Killer are drowned out by the screams of your two opponents, who both leap into the air and fly straight at you.
  645.  
  646. >A sound strike from your fist sends the first careening to the ground, but the other crashes into your side, sending you reeling. White hot pain radiates from your shoulder as the bat latches on, its fangs biting deep into your flesh.
  647.  
  648. >You grab the creature by the forelimb and try to yank it off, but it refuses to let go. A swift uppercut to the belly makes it cough and gasp, relinquishing its hold. You catch a glimpse of your sturdy companion rolling around with her blue-haired foe, but before you can move toward them, something heavy slams into the back of your leg, knocking you to one knee.
  649.  
  650. >The first pony has recovered, and has just struck you with the butt of its spear. Its eyes spark red as it twirls the weapon, the silver point sparkling, as it once again brings the spear haft to bear against you.
  651.  
  652. >You leap to the side, barely evading the attack, and roll to regain your footing. A great blue eye with a red pupil flutters just above you, as you stand now beneath the inn’s heavy banner.
  653.  
  654. >You turn just as the two bat ponies charge you once again, this time with their spears raised, ready to strike you down. Swiftly you reach up, and with all your strength, tear down the inn’s banner to throw it toward them.
  655.  
  656. >Screeches of rage turn muffled as the cloth engulfs them. Confounded by the banner, the two bat ponies crash toward the ground. You quickly rush over and wrap them up tightly in a double bat burrito, trapping them. They look furious as you ditch them to run toward the main scuffle.
  657.  
  658. >Moss Moon sits atop Hunter Killer, driving her front hoof repeatedly into his face. The stallion lies insensate on the ground, blood dripping from his nose, his cheek scuffed and bruised from the impact of many blows. The mare’s mane is in wild disarray, but she looks otherwise no worse for wear.
  659.  
  660. >It is on one hand satisfying to see the one responsible for shooting you in the back receive his comeuppance, but on the other hand, it is disturbing to see the pure rage on the face of the bat pony mare as she strikes him again and again.
  661.  
  662. “Enough,” you finally say, putting your hand on her shoulder.
  663.  
  664. >It takes her a few more blows before she finally stops. When she does, she looks up at you, her golden eyes dazed, as if not even seeing you. Her pink scar seems even more livid than usual. She shakes herself, and brightness and lucidity returns to her gaze. For a brief instant she looks at you in shame, then looks away.
  665.  
  666. >She steps off of Hunter Killer, who groans and reaches with a hoof to rub at his injured face.
  667.  
  668. >“I don’t want to see you again,” she says. “I’m a bound only in the lands of the Asperi. Out here, I’m no one. That means I can do whatever I want.” She pauses. “And if I see you again, I’ll kill you.”
  669.  
  670. >Hunter Killer is already slinking away, crawling toward his burrito’d comrades. Even in his pathetic state he manages to snort derisively at her comment, casting a look of disbelief over his shoulder. Moss Moon stares daggers at him, and he quickly looks away.
  671.  
  672. >You stand nearby, regarding her quietly. Your breathing is still a little ragged from the encounter. She approaches, staring in apparent embarrassment at the ground. When she looks up at you, her expression is grim.
  673.  
  674. >“We should go,” she says.
  675.  
  676. >Many glowing eyes regard you silently from behind the windows of the inn and the surrounding homes.
  677.  
  678. “I agree.”
  679.  
  680. >The two of you head out into the woods and the gathering dark. Afternoon will soon pass into night, and you will have to make camp in the wilderness.
  681.  
  682. “Are you all right?” you ask, as the two of you walk to the west.
  683.  
  684. >Moss Moon hangs her head. “I… shouldn’t have let him get to me,” she says. “Fighting them was a mistake. Did you get hurt?”
  685.  
  686. >You stop to show her the bite on your shoulder. She clucks her tongue. “Damn, Anonymous. You’ve become a pincushion ever since you met me.”
  687.  
  688. >Sitting you down next to a tree, she takes water from your canteen and cleans the wound. She then digs a jar of white paste from one of her saddlebags and smears some of its contents onto your shoulder. The skin goes numb, then feels strangely warm.
  689.  
  690. >She is silent as she goes about her work, obviously contemplative. You consider telling her that it was satisfying to see her kick Hunter Killer’s ass, but decide against it. The mare slaps on a bandage and smiles at you.
  691.  
  692. >“That should take care of it,” she says. “Just keep an eye on it, make sure it stays clean.”
  693.  
  694. You rub at your shoulder. “What did he mean about false rumors in the stronghold?”
  695.  
  696. >Moss Moon’s teeth come together as her smile takes on a twinge of guilt. “I got some of the foals to tell his soldiers that there was a magic spring at the summit of the mountain.”
  697.  
  698. “So Hunter Killer is looking for the Lunar Spring.” Realization slowly dawns on you. “But he doesn’t know that you’re going there, too.”
  699.  
  700. >The mare shakes her head and shrugs. “Nope. I guess he just thinks I was running away, and that you’re helping me do it.” Her gaze drifts to your leg, still bandaged from the arrow wound from earlier, and she frowns. “I’m sorry, if I hadn’t sent him up there, you wouldn’t have been wounded –”
  701.  
  702. “It’s not your fault,” you say. In retrospect, you even feel foolish. “I should’ve known better than to approach a group of soldiers in the wilderness.”
  703.  
  704. “Besides, if it hadn’t been for that, I would never have had the chance to see this Lunar Spring you keep talking about.”
  705.  
  706. >Moss Moon’s half smile returns. It’s barely noticeable, but a change seems to come over her face. Her golden eyes relax a little as she looks at you.
  707.  
  708. >“Thanks for coming with me, Anon.”
  709.  
  710. >The two of you stand and start off westward again. With any luck, you can find a cave or a good, sturdy tree by nightfall.
  711.  
  712. >For a long time you travel, as the sun slowly sets, casting all into shadow. The mare is silent as make your way through the wood. Something is obviously troubling her, and you think you know what it is.
  713.  
  714. >It takes a great deal of effort to get the words out.
  715.  
  716. “Don’t worry too much about what he said,” you say. “He was only trying to provoke you. His squad… they wouldn’t do that to their own.”
  717.  
  718. >She looks away, and is quiet for a very long time. She pulls her cloak more tightly around herself. “You’re right.” Her smile is bitter. “It was just… a cruel thing to say.”
  719.  
  720. >You can think of no comforting words, and so resign yourself to silence.
  721.  
  722. >Leaves and underbrush crack underfoot as you follow Moss Moon into the darkness, relying on her night vision. After about an hour, she lets out a pleased (but quiet) skree. She points out a small outcropping of rock under which you can take shelter. You can barely see it in the faint moonlight.
  723.  
  724. >The two of you share a small meal of dried fruit and meat before settling down for the night. You have just closed your eyes when you hear her stir.
  725.  
  726. >“It’s cold,” she says. “Can I sleep beside you?”
  727.  
  728. >You lift your arm to oblige her, and she slides in against you, her back pressed up against your chest. Though she’s wearing her cloak, you become acutely aware of the stubs of her wings pressing against you.
  729.  
  730. >She’s shivering slightly, but she soon relaxes as your body heat warms her. Soon her breathing has steadied, and Moss Moon is fast asleep.
  731.  
  732. >Your thoughts are troubled by many things, both old and new. You realize, vaguely, that your companion has still not told you of the nature of the Spring. You’ll have to ask her about it later, you tell yourself, as you drift off into slumber, and begin to dream.
  733.  
  734.  
  735. Part 6
  736.  
  737.  
  738. >You are Boy, and you are having a nightmare.
  739.  
  740. >Red earth. The burning flesh. Father is laughing.
  741.  
  742. >“Do what you’re paid for, Boy. We do what we’re paid for.”
  743.  
  744. >He is a shadow in a crimson sea. Tall, fat, wild-haired. Still as a gravestone, zweihander held blade down. His great mouth opens to bone-white teeth.
  745.  
  746. >Golden coins. The sword forgotten in your hand. Father shoves you.
  747.  
  748. >“Do what you’re paid for, Boy. That’s all we’re good for.”
  749.  
  750. >Overhead an infinity of bloody stars. The moon is silent. Everything is wide open and it is crushing you.
  751.  
  752. >Pale, lanky, shaggy Cutter stands in the shade of Father, his hand moving like clockwork left to right. He drones on and on and on.
  753.  
  754. >“One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut.”
  755.  
  756. >You stand there, Boy, waist-deep in shapes whose faces you cannot see. You want to run. You want to hide. But there is nowhere to go. You cannot escape the screaming of the foals.
  757.  
  758. >“Do what you’re paid for, Boy,” Father says. “Cutter does what he’s paid for.”
  759.  
  760. >Cutter’s head revolves impossibly on his neck. His eyes are dead and his hooked nose is splattered with blood. His hand moves, and the knife with it.
  761.  
  762. >“One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut.”
  763.  
  764. >You have killed before. You have killed from the day a sword was put into your hand. But this is not what you want to be. You step back and Father’s face darkens.
  765.  
  766. >“Your birth was paid in blood,” Father says, growing larger and larger, ballooning into a vast and alien shadow. “And you will pay for it, be it from your blade or from your veins.”
  767.  
  768. >With a roar he rushes at you, a tidal void of impossible height, reaching toward you with a hundred knives. Terror drives you. Red, blinding terror guides your sword as it sinks into his heart.
  769.  
  770. >The shadow is cut.
  771.  
  772. >When Father is gone, only Cutter remains, watching you with his dull black gaze. Fire burns in his eyes. Blood washes over the plain, sweeping away the corpses, lapping at his feet.
  773.  
  774. >“One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut. One cut, two cut.”
  775.  
  776. >And then you are running, and the ground falls away, spinning into blackness, flying down, deep under the water, toward the moon.
  777.  
  778. ---
  779.  
  780. >You are Moss Moon, and it is morning. Pale golden sunlight streams down through the canopy, and birds chirp from unseen places.
  781.  
  782. >You stretch, groaning, pressing your front hooves into the ground to lift your hindquarters high into the air. Your legs are starting to stiffen up now that it’s been nearly a week since you left the stronghold.
  783.  
  784. >Looking around for Anon, you spot him sitting against a nearby tree, staring at nothing in particular. An open parcel of dried fruit sits untouched beside him.
  785.  
  786. >You smile a little. He might be slow and noisy, but your friend has been growing on you of late. Never before have you had a traveling companion. Actually having someone to talk to is a welcome change of pace. For the first time in a long while, you almost feel comfortable being near another living being.
  787.  
  788. >Feeling mischievous, you decide to sneak up on Anon. You creep along the forest floor, stepping carefully over the leaves and brush without making a sound. You come up from behind, and after getting within a few meters – far enough that no panicked sword swings will hit you – you hail him.
  789.  
  790. “Good morning Anon!”
  791.  
  792. >To your surprise, he doesn’t react, at least not at first. After a moment he turns his head to look in your direction, but his eyes are strange, as if looking past you. He then blinks and shakes his head, coming out of his daze. He smiles.
  793.  
  794. >“Hey.”
  795.  
  796. Curious, you step closer. “You doing okay?”
  797.  
  798. >He nods. “Yeah. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
  799.  
  800. “If you want, I could make you a tincture for dreamless sleep… there’s some sunroot in my bag.”
  801.  
  802. >“No thanks.” He gets up and brushes himself off. “Ready to leave?”
  803.  
  804. You hurriedly devour some of the dried fruit. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” you ask, around mouthfuls.
  805.  
  806. >“Later. I’m not hungry right now.”
  807.  
  808. >He stands off to the side of the clearing, his back to you, waiting for you to finish. You take a few more bites before stuffing the food back into one of your saddlebags.
  809.  
  810. >The two of you set off, and you quickly fall in step with him. Something about his behavior seems off; he’s usually taciturn, sure, but something seems to be distracting him. You watch him through the corner of your eye.
  811.  
  812. >In previous days he has been good about following your every step, but now he meanders slightly, staring at the ground, only occasionally looking to you for reference. He blunders blindly through the brush, apparently oblivious to the sound he’s making.
  813.  
  814. >When he nearly walks into a tree, you finally muster the courage to speak up.
  815.  
  816. “You know it’s not good to go off on an empty stomach,” you say lightly.
  817.  
  818. >You cringe inside, remembering the beatings you received for chiding some of the other residents of the stronghold. A bound’s words have little value.
  819.  
  820. >But Anon simply runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m… not myself today.”
  821.  
  822. “What do you mean?”
  823.  
  824. >He sighs and looks away. For a long time he says nothing. You are about to tell him that he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to, when he finally speaks up.
  825.  
  826. >“It’s silly, but I had a nightmare last night.”
  827.  
  828. “Dreams have more power than you might think. If it’s still with you, then it must be for a reason.”
  829.  
  830. >“I suppose you’re right.”
  831.  
  832. >Anon falls silent again, this time with an air of finality. You’re not about to let this go, however. You sense a weight about him that he needs to lift off. After a few minutes go by, you pluck up the words to press him.
  833.  
  834. “Do you want to talk about it?” you ask. “The dream?”
  835.  
  836. >He blows out a long breath and looks everywhere but at you. His mouth works as if he is about to speak, but then he closes it, and stares ahead.
  837.  
  838. >You decide to shut up, and after a few moments your patience is rewarded.
  839.  
  840. >“I was much younger in the dream,” he says. “A boy. It was a memory from a long time ago, but distorted.”
  841.  
  842. “And?” you ask brightly, smiling up at him.
  843.  
  844. >You feel a strange excitement at uncovering this mystery, similar to what you feel when going through some of Grandmother’s old books. An odd, mystic sense, as if what you are doing carries an importance that you cannot explain.
  845.  
  846. “What happened?”
  847.  
  848. >Anon sighs. “Ten years ago,” he said, “I was in the employ of one of the Asperi warlords.”
  849.  
  850. >You freeze.
  851.  
  852. >You meet Anon’s eyes, and see a face filled with remorse. He shrugs slightly. “We worked in the foothills of the Crystal Mountains. I dreamt of what we did there.”
  853.  
  854. Your mouth is dry when you ask your next question. “And what did you do there?”
  855.  
  856. >“Whatever we were paid to do.”
  857.  
  858. >For an instant you had felt numb, but suddenly sensation floods into you – hot, intense, and vile. You feel the dried fruit turning in your stomach. You feel unsteady on your feet as you turn and stumble away from him.
  859.  
  860. >“Moss Moon –”
  861.  
  862. “No,” you say. “No, no, no, no…”
  863.  
  864. >You walk into the underbrush, then break into a run, slipping into the trees. You hear Anon call after you, then the sound of him crashing through the forest as he tries to keep up. You run harder and harder, your blood pumping in your ears, until the sounds of him fade behind you, and he is gone.
  865.  
  866. >You don’t know how far you have gone when you finally stop. You stand in some dark, unfamiliar section of the wood, thin shafts of light lancing through the canopy, birds chirping as if nothing had happened.
  867.  
  868. >Your heart hammers in your chest. Your breathing comes quick and labored. Your eyes are wet with tears.
  869.  
  870. >The forest spins slowly around you as you turn in place, looking at nothing, looking up toward the sky that you can’t see. The same sky that was there on the day you were cut.
  871.  
  872. >The memories come back unbidden. The memories that you want to forget but never will, that just when you think they are gone will return one night, reminding you of just how weak and powerless you really are.
  873.  
  874. >You are shaking when Anon crashes past you. He slows and stops when he sees you. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it again when he sees your face.
  875.  
  876. >You try to look at him, but it hurts and you can’t. You stare into the darkness instead.
  877.  
  878. >For a long time, neither of you says a word. You don’t want to cry in front of him and it takes all of your energy to hold it back. You finally force yourself to speak.
  879.  
  880. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
  881.  
  882. >He stands there in the corner of your vision, a haggard shadow. “I wanted to forget.”
  883.  
  884. “How – how could you forget?” you spit. “You should never forget… what you did. The ones you killed, the foals you… you –”
  885.  
  886. >You trail off, unable to say it. Anon doesn’t move. You are vaguely aware of his aura of sadness, but your own emotion is making you tremble, making it difficult to concentrate.
  887.  
  888. >“I was born a killer,” he says. “A human is a mercenary who kills for money. That is what my life was.”
  889.  
  890. “Don’t make excuses for what you did.” You choke, starting to lose it. You immediately regret the words as they come out of your mouth. “No matter who you are, your choices are yours alone. And you chose to kill.”
  891.  
  892. >Anon doesn’t seem to react. He stares at the ground. “That’s why when I was asked to make a bound, I gave up that life.”
  893.  
  894. >You blink at him.
  895.  
  896. >He shrugs and holds out his hands palms up, his expression subdued. “That was what I dreamt of last night.”
  897.  
  898. “You… you didn’t…?”
  899.  
  900. >Your companion shakes his head. “The day that order came was the day I sheathed my sword and became a traveler.” He smiles forlornly. “I suppose you could say that was the day I gave up my humanity.”
  901.  
  902. >You take some deep breaths, doing your best to calm yourself. With a hoof you dab at your eyes. You give a short, harried laugh.
  903.  
  904. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”
  905.  
  906. >“You are right to be upset. There is no forgiveness for what I did. Even if I left, I was still complicit in the Asperi rule. I killed those who resisted them and did nothing to stop them.”
  907.  
  908. “No.” You shake your head. “No, you were young. If you wanted to change things, leaving was the only choice you could make. They would have killed you otherwise, wouldn't they?”
  909.  
  910. >He is silent for a little while. “Yes, they would have.”
  911.  
  912. You trot over and, not knowing what else to do, awkwardly poke him in the foot. “I’m sorry for running off like that.”
  913.  
  914. >He puts his hand on your head, an unexpected gesture that makes you jump. You smile involuntarily, unused to the contact, but pleased by it. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m sorry for keeping my past from you.” He pauses. “Let’s keep going.”
  915.  
  916. >The two of you set off again, heading southwest. The great blue shadow of the Foal Mountain rises in the distance, poking above the treetops. Beyond it lies your destination, and the waters of the Lunar Spring.
  917.  
  918.  
  919. Part 7
  920.  
  921.  
  922. >The forest surrounds you, black and foreboding. Dark leaves rustle in the wind. A storm is coming, and night is falling.
  923.  
  924. >You are a human warrior, and you are exhausted.
  925.  
  926. >“It’s not much further,” Moss Moon says, her golden eyes faintly luminous as they catch the dying light. She’s hurrying you through the brush, taking you to the base of the Foal Mountain. “We’ll stay dry if we can just make it to the road.”
  927.  
  928. >You have no such luck. A few minutes later, the skies open, and a steady drizzle soon turns into a torrent of freezing rain.
  929.  
  930. >Stumbling through the dark woods, you follow after the gray shadow that is your companion. She weaves past wet brambles and gnarled trees, stopping to help you through. In some places the vegetation is so thick that you have to crawl to get by.
  931.  
  932. >The constant stops make for slow going, and you are drenched with rain and mud when finally you reach the base of the mountain. A sheer rock face climbs high above you, vast and imposing, its upper reaches vanishing into the night.
  933.  
  934. >Moss Moon stops here, her hoof resting on stone, eyes searching the mountain as if trying to read it like a book. After a moment she nods and sets off to the left, hugging the mountainside. “This way!” she calls, over the pounding of the rain and the steady groan of the wind.
  935.  
  936. >You squint, struggling to see, as you reach the beginnings of the ancient road. A carved path, worn smooth by time, ramps steeply up the side of the mountain. After a few hundred meters it slopes into the mouth of what looks to be a cave. Moss Moon trots inside, and you follow suit.
  937.  
  938. >It’s completely dark. You can hear her shivering as she digs through her bag. A moment later: the sound of two objects being clacked together. Then there is a spark, a flame, and rosy light spills into the cavern.
  939.  
  940. >The mare is holding a burning torch in her mouth. She passes it over to you. It’s made of wood, and you notice a faintly pink-colored substance coating a rag tied around the tip.
  941.  
  942. “What’s this on the end?” you ask.
  943.  
  944. >“Sunroot resin,” Moss Moon replies, her answer muffled as she goes back to digging through her saddlebags. “You dry it out, powder it, then mix it with water to make a paste. It’ll be good to burn for a few hours.”
  945.  
  946. >Next she gives you a bottle of frothy black liquid and tells you to drink just a little. The substance is cold and very bitter, but you can feel energy filling you despite your fatigue. Moss Moon takes a few swallows before slipping the bottle back into one of the inner pouches of a saddlebag.
  947.  
  948. >The rosy glow of the torch illuminates the road ahead as it curves up and around the mountain. Carved into the mountainside, the road is covered on all sides by thin rock. Flickering light reveals flowing arches cut at intervals into the walls, obviously shaped by carvers of long ago. Rain drums on the roof.
  949.  
  950. >Moss Moon meanwhile is looking out the entrance, into the stormy night. “We can’t stop here,” she says. She turns to give you a weary and apologetic look. “The moon’ll be full in three days, and we’ll need time to rest before we climb up the last road. Will you be okay to travel through the night?”
  951.  
  952. You nod and yawn at the same time. “Lead on.”
  953.  
  954. >She brushes by, idly resting a hoof on your leg as she scoots past, and adjusts the position of her bags. “Keep that light close. There might be earthcrawlers in here, but they’ll leave us alone if we have that.”
  955.  
  956. >The two of you begin your ascent, following the first of two ancient trails in your journey. Your companion had described them to you earlier in the day.
  957.  
  958. >“I don’t know who built them, but I think it’s been a long time since anypony’s really used them. It was Grandmother who took me the first time, before her eyesight got too bad to make the trip.”
  959.  
  960. >“The first one is just a covered road that goes up and around the mountain. The main path will take us to the other side, but there are lots of smaller paths that branch off and go deeper into the mountain.”
  961.  
  962. >“We want to stick to the main road for sure. It’s really easy to get lost in there.”
  963.  
  964. >“Once we make it to the other side, it’s only about a day’s walk to the next road. That one isn’t covered, but it’s much less dangerous. It’ll take us up to the Spring.”
  965.  
  966. >You follow Moss Moon, the torch casting its light on the worn path rounding the mountain. Occasionally you see rain pattering on the ground, coming in through places where the roof has eroded. Your thoughts gravitate toward “the other side.” You’ve never been this far inland before.
  967.  
  968. >Rain drips off the hem of your worn cloak, while Moss Moon’s coat is plastered to her body. Your legs are leaden with weariness, and you know she must be tired as well, but she hardly shows it. Doggedly she leads you up the road, her steps resolute.
  969.  
  970. >If only you could be so focused. You need something to occupy your tired mind. You search for a question, and settle on the most obvious one.
  971.  
  972. “So why is it that you want to go to the Spring?”
  973.  
  974. >The mare is quiet for a little while before she answers. “A few weeks from now, the foals in the Stronghold will start getting sick,” she says. “This happens every year. It’s a wasting illness that paralyzes the body. Many of them die, or come out crippled if they survive.”
  975.  
  976. >She pauses as the road makes a sudden, sharp turn, inclining up toward a long ledge. The ledge is open on the side, letting in rain and wind. You can see nothing in the darkness outside, save the vague blackness of the treetops far below. The two of you huddle to the side, in the thin dry alley where the rain does not reach.
  977.  
  978. >“There is a remedy,” the mare continues, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. “I have to mix salt from Hollow Shades with water from the Lunar Spring, and let the solution bathe in the light of the full moon. If the foals drink it, they’ll be cured.”
  979.  
  980. It seems strange to you, but you suppose you’ve heard stranger things. “How does it work?” you ask, as lightning flashes, and a roll of thunder follows.
  981.  
  982. >The flame of your torch flickers in the wind, casting dancing shadows on the walls of rock. Moss Moon dips her head. “I don’t suppose you’re a believer, Anon?”
  983.  
  984. >You simply shrug.
  985.  
  986. >The mare turns to look past you, into the dark of night. “Grandmother taught me that there is a Goddess who sleeps inside the moon, who reaches us through our dreams.”
  987.  
  988. You’ve heard of this Goddess before; many bat ponies you’ve met seem to believe in her. “So the moonlight is some sort of magic?”
  989.  
  990. >Moss Moon shakes her head. “I don’t know. It’s not like what unicorns can do. If it really is a Goddess, then her power works in a way that I don’t know enough to explain.”
  991.  
  992. >You both reach the end of the ledge, where the opening closes and the path bends once again upward, climbing ever higher up Foal Mountain. The sound of the storm recedes behind you, replaced by the dull, steady drum of rain overhead.
  993.  
  994. “What about the salt then, and the springwater?”
  995.  
  996. >“The salt comes from an underground stream that flows inland a few hundred miles from the sea. Some mineral must leach into the water as it comes in. As for the Spring…”
  997.  
  998. >She breaks off as you come to a split in the path. A tunnel branches into the earth, winding raw and narrow into the deep dark. Your companion points with a hoof. “Do you see how rough the stone is?” she asks. “If you ever get lost in here, always look for the smooth paths. That’s how you’ll know you’ve made it back to the main road.”
  999.  
  1000. >You nod in understanding, and wait for her to continue.
  1001.  
  1002. >“Anyway…” she says, after a few moments. “The Spring has a number of… unusual properties. For instance,” she points at your wrapped shoulder, “a wound like that would heal in just a night, if you were to drink from the Spring directly.”
  1003.  
  1004. “Why directly? Aren’t you planning to bottle it?”
  1005.  
  1006. >“Bottling only works because of the process behind it. The salt and the moonlight will make it ‘keep,’ but only for a little while.”
  1007.  
  1008. “How do you know all this?”
  1009.  
  1010. >Moss Moon sticks out her tongue and gives you a teasing look. “That’s a secret.”
  1011.  
  1012. You feel a smile edging on your lips. “Don’t you try to bamboozle me.”
  1013.  
  1014. >She laughs, a pleasant kee-kee sound, before falling quiet again. Her hooves clack softly against the stone floor, in time with the heavy footfalls of your boots.
  1015.  
  1016. >Now on both sides you see the occasional tunnel spiraling off into the depths. Your torch illuminates them only partly, the light fading into dark, bottomless holes. You feel queasy looking into them.
  1017.  
  1018. >After a few minutes you hear a low rumble, which you at first believe is thunder, before you realize that you can no longer hear the rain. Then the ground begins to shake. Moss Moon stops you, huddling close by.
  1019.  
  1020. >You feel your heart begin to beat faster as the tremor grows in intensity, rattling the bones of your legs, making you grab your sturdy companion for support. But just as the fear begins to set in, the tremor slows, then dissipates into nothing. The mare breathes a sigh of relief.
  1021.  
  1022. >“Earthcrawler,” she says, looking up at you with her huge eyes. “Don’t worry, they won’t bother us.”
  1023.  
  1024. >Despite her comforting words, you still feel uneasy as you resume your steady upward trek into the mountain. Even Moss Moon looks slightly unsettled, her eyes traveling warily from tunnel mouth to tunnel mouth as they pass by. Strangely, you feel your head starting to hurt.
  1025.  
  1026. >Eventually she speaks up again. “Grandmother taught me a lot,” she says. “When she was young she used to travel to the other side all the time. There are lots of things left over there that nopony’s found yet. One day she found a trove full of books, and she spent a few months ferrying them back over to Hollow Shades.”
  1027.  
  1028. >“At first she wouldn’t let me read them, but when she started going blind, she decided to teach me how.”
  1029.  
  1030. “What was in them?”
  1031.  
  1032. >Moss Moon smiles again, obviously pleased to discuss the subject. “Oh, all sorts of things. It’s written in an old language, so I can only understand part of it, but there’s so much to learn about. Ponies used to know so many things.”
  1033.  
  1034. >“The only one we’ve mostly finished translating is a scientific codex from hundreds of years ago. It’s hard to understand in places, but there’s a big part in there that talks about the properties of dreams and… death.”
  1035.  
  1036. You feel a slight chill. “Why those?”
  1037.  
  1038. >“Um, well… if I remember right, the book says that dreaming is the space between life and death. When we dream, we are separated from ourselves, and are shown that the divide between our living and our dying is not real. We see aspects of reality that we can’t really comprehend.”
  1039.  
  1040. “Sounds like heavy stuff.”
  1041.  
  1042. >“There’s more. They weren’t satisfied with those limits, and they weren’t satisfied with just trying to understand them. The book is about how somepony can understand the power of dreams and death, and then… use that power.”
  1043.  
  1044. >You recall the superstitious nature of humans you’ve met in your travels, the way they’d talked about death. They would have closed their ears to this discussion out of fear, unwilling to hear more about the ancient ones and their blasphemies. But to you, even though you still hold some of the old superstitions, your curiosity is piqued.
  1045.  
  1046. Your head is pounding. “Is that the part that interested you?”
  1047.  
  1048. >Moss Moon laughs softly. “I actually liked the parts about medicine the most. Anatomy, how to make healing poultices, preparing potions, those sorts of things.” She pauses. “But it’s definitely something I’ve thought about a lot. And Grandmother is obsessed with it.”
  1049.  
  1050. >You suddenly become acutely aware of the silence of the road. You stop, standing with the torch in your hand. The path stretches on ahead of you, the flickering light going from pink-orange to bloody red to darkness. In both walls, tunnels open like mouths in front of and behind you. You are enclosed on all sides by stone.
  1051.  
  1052. >Moss Moon is looking at you, her expression worried. “Everything all right?”
  1053.  
  1054. You squeeze your eyes shut before blinking a few times. “Yeah. Just tired.”
  1055.  
  1056. >She moves to take out the bottle of black liquid again, but you wave her off.
  1057.  
  1058. “Save it. We might need it later.”
  1059.  
  1060. >The two of you proceed further up the path. The tunnels increase in frequency, and you begin to notice that some of them were clearly not shaped by builders, but rather appear to be gouged into the rock, as if something huge had simply ground its way through the mountain.
  1061.  
  1062. >You feel your vision swimming from exhaustion. Your head aches. You have the vague impression that something is not right. It occurs to you that you should say something.
  1063.  
  1064. “Thanks for telling me about the Spring, and the books,” you say, not sure if you’re slurring. “You could read them to me when we get back, if you want.”
  1065.  
  1066. >Moss Moon smiles at you, though her face is a little blurry. “I’d like that,” she says. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.
  1067.  
  1068. >You turn to look down one of the tunnels to your left. At the end of it, standing in the dark, is the shadowy shape of a pony. It watches you silently.
  1069.  
  1070. “Just what did happen to all those ponies?” you ask.
  1071.  
  1072. >You feel Moss Moon touching you. “Anon? What are you looking at?”
  1073.  
  1074. “The ones who lived on the other side?”
  1075.  
  1076. >The ground begins to rumble, and it seems as if the whole mountain starts to groan. You feel someone grabbing you. “Anon, this is a big one, we have to move –”
  1077.  
  1078. >In the tunnel the other pony does not move. You lift your torch to look at it and you see its hollow eyes and bone white teeth. You hear foals crying and the mountain tearing itself apart around you.
  1079.  
  1080. >A second later you are on the ground, and the torch is sputtering a few feet away.
  1081.  
  1082. >You blink, feeling strange as your thoughts return to order. As lucidity once again seeps into you, you realize that Moss Moon is sitting on your stomach. The mountain roars, shaking violently. You hear a crack and feel the ground shift under you.
  1083.  
  1084. “What’s happening?”
  1085.  
  1086. >“Gas!” Moss Moon shouts. “And an earthcrawler! Follow me, and keep your head down!”
  1087.  
  1088. >She bounds off of you and you dash after her in a crouch, picking up the torch just before it gutters out. Almost immediately she diverts into one of the tunnels, following it as it winds down into the earth.
  1089.  
  1090. >After about a minute of running, you almost bowl into her as she stops. The mountain continues to shake. She pulls you down to the ground and directs you to cover your head. You can hear her praying.
  1091.  
  1092. >Not knowing what else to do, you drop your torch to pull her against you and cover her with your body. You can feel her trembling against you. Rocks from the ceiling pelt your back, and you can feel yourself mumbling fervent words in the hope that they will ward off a cave-in that would kill you both.
  1093.  
  1094. >It’s all happening so quickly. You wonder faintly if this is a dream. But the sturdiness of your companion, the pounding of her heart, and the quaking of the earth tell you that this is all too real.
  1095.  
  1096. >“Anon, if we –”
  1097.  
  1098. “I –”
  1099.  
  1100. >Then the ground splits, and you are falling, and no amount of strength can keep her in your arms.
  1101.  
  1102.  
  1103. Part 8
  1104.  
  1105.  
  1106. >Cold rock. Stale air. Darkness.
  1107.  
  1108. >You are Moss Moon, and you are terrified.
  1109.  
  1110. >Down here within the mountain, your night vision is useless. You can see nothing at all. Your heart pounds in your chest, blood pulsing in your ears.
  1111.  
  1112. >“Anon!” you cry. “Anonymous!”
  1113.  
  1114. >There is no reply.
  1115.  
  1116. >You scrabble to your hooves, righting yourself from where you landed. Nothing seems broken. Your left flank throbs with pain, but the tougher parts of you must’ve absorbed most of the impact.
  1117.  
  1118. >With dismay you realize that one of your saddlebags is missing.
  1119.  
  1120. >A sniff of the air and a burst of echolocation pick it up immediately. It’s lying smashed on the ground nearby, its contents a fuming mess. Half of your supplies have been destroyed.
  1121.  
  1122. >You pray that Anon fared better.
  1123.  
  1124. >You curse yourself for your foolishness. You had been so busy going on and on about Grandmother’s books that you’d forgotten to echolocate the tunnel. Just one burst would’ve revealed a variance in density in the air above the ceiling. You would’ve known about the gas; you would’ve been able to warn Anon.
  1125.  
  1126. >This wasn’t some jaunt through the wilderness. This journey was life and death. You knew this, and yet you allowed yourself to be distracted. Anon was just starting to feel like a friend, like someone you could trust – and now he might be dead, because of you.
  1127.  
  1128. >You feel heat and helplessness rising in your chest, but you shake it off. No. You have to find him. And the both of you are getting out of here.
  1129.  
  1130. >A small blessing: the earth is no longer shaking, and you can’t hear the movement of any earthcrawlers. You start echolocating, trying to figure out just where you are.
  1131.  
  1132. >The fractured images of sound reveal that you are standing on some kind of ledge within a deep shaft. The exit is high above you, too far for your sound bursts to give you a clear picture. There is a hole nearby, leading deeper into the mountain.
  1133.  
  1134. >Anon isn’t on the ledge. He either landed somewhere above you, or he fell down this hole. The stumps of your wings flex on your back, as for a moment you wish you could fly. You push the thought from your head. There’s only one way to go, and that is down.
  1135.  
  1136. >A pulse of echolocation down the hole tells you that the drop is only about ten feet. Steeling yourself for the landing, you drop through.
  1137.  
  1138. >A jolt runs through your body as you hit the hard stone below, but your powerful legs absorb the force of the jump. Immediately you start sending out sound, and a picture forms in your mind.
  1139.  
  1140. >You stand now in a long, flat chamber, with a floor that slopes gently downward. Stalactites hang from the ceiling, suggesting that this cavern is natural, and not formed by the tremors and tunneling of the earthcrawlers. The chamber goes on for quite some distance, further than your echolocation can discern from here.
  1141.  
  1142. >You detect something lying on the ground a little ways down the slope.
  1143.  
  1144. >Numbness creeps into your limbs. You feel your heart fluttering as you dash to Anon’s side.
  1145.  
  1146. >You can’t see him, but he’s warm to the touch. You breathe a gasp of relief when you hear his slow breathing.
  1147.  
  1148. >He’s lying on his arm. You cautiously move him onto his back, and he grunts in pain.
  1149.  
  1150. “Anon,” you say, touching his face with your hoof. “Can you hear me?”
  1151.  
  1152. >You hear his breathing quicken as he seems to waken. He shifts under you, as if trying to get up, then relaxes.
  1153.  
  1154. >“What… what happened?”
  1155.  
  1156. >Your answer comes out in a rush.
  1157.  
  1158. “There was gas in the tunnel, up top, where you were breathing it, I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I…” You break off, realizing that you are shaking. You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Anonymous.”
  1159.  
  1160. >He’s quiet for a moment, but when you feel a reassuring pat on your leg, you realize that he was reaching out, trying to find you. “Are you hurt?”
  1161.  
  1162. “I don’t think so. I landed further up, so I didn’t fall as far as you.”
  1163.  
  1164. >Anon shifts again, and he groans as he sits up. “Where are we now?”
  1165.  
  1166. “An earthcrawler must’ve dug up near us. We fell into the hole it left behind. We’re out of it now, though. This is some kind of cavern.”
  1167.  
  1168. >He’s quiet again, this time pensive. You hear him moving around.
  1169.  
  1170. “I think my arm’s broken.”
  1171.  
  1172. >Tentatively you reach toward him with your hoof.
  1173.  
  1174. “Let me look,” you say. “Er… feel.”
  1175.  
  1176. >Anon laughs, a quiet sound in the darkness. “Go ahead.”
  1177.  
  1178. >You find his side, then his shoulder, and with care you feel down his arm, palpating the bone. He lets out a hiss of pain when you reach the forearm, where you feel a distinct give in the ulna.
  1179.  
  1180. “It’s cracked, but I don’t think it’s severed,” you say. “Does it hurt to hold it across your chest?”
  1181.  
  1182. >When he affirms that it does not, you set about making a sling for him out of some of your remaining bandages. You’ve done it so many times that even blind you can tie it with ease. When you get outside, you can bind his wrist and elbow to a piece of wood from the forest.
  1183.  
  1184. >“You’re pretty good at this,” he says, when you finish. “Did you learn how to do this from your Grandmother?”
  1185.  
  1186. >She’s not your actual Grandmother, but you decide not to correct him. You shake your head, then remember that he can’t see you.
  1187.  
  1188. “Sometimes the orphans hurt themselves playing. I taught myself how to take care of the basic stuff. It’s enough that some of the poorer bats come to see me, if they can’t get the doctor.”
  1189.  
  1190. >“That’s... very kind of you, Moss Moon.”
  1191.  
  1192. >He says this simply, as if stating a fact. A compliment, you realize. He’s complimenting you. You don't know why, but you feel heat in your face.
  1193.  
  1194. “Thank… thank you.”
  1195.  
  1196. >You hear his boots scrape against the rock floor as he stands up. “Where can we go now?” he asks. “I can’t see a thing.”
  1197.  
  1198. >You echolocate again. The cavern is relatively wide, but you see no exits in the walls. Other than the hole in the ceiling from which you came, the only way you can go is down the slope, into the earth.
  1199.  
  1200. >One disappointing check of your remaining saddlebag later, and you realize that your extra sunroot torches were destroyed in your other bag. You no longer have a light source.
  1201.  
  1202. “This way,” you say. “Hold onto my mane so you don’t get lost. There are stalactites in here, so keep your head down.”
  1203.  
  1204. >Anon obliges, and you feel him grab on to your hair. The two of you shuffle slowly down the slope.
  1205.  
  1206. >Using your echolocation as a guide, you help your companion avoid bumping his head or tripping over rocks jutting up out of the ground. After awhile the slope finally levels out, opening into a wide, high-ceilinged cavern in which your sound bursts echo hollowly.
  1207.  
  1208. >The air grows steadily warmer as you progress into this new chamber. You begin to notice large holes dotting the ceiling and floor.
  1209.  
  1210. “Stick close to me,” you whisper. “Lots of earthcrawlers must come through here. There are holes everywhere.”
  1211.  
  1212. >You can feel the tension in him as he huddles closer. “What do we do if we run into one?”
  1213.  
  1214. “Um.” You swallow. “Be very, very quiet, and hope it doesn’t notice us.”
  1215.  
  1216. >You’d like to be quiet now, but falling in a hole would be just as bad as attracting attention. Sparingly you echolocate, skirting various drop-offs as you lead Anon over to the wall. At least here you won’t be caught out in the open, should a crawler choose to rear its head.
  1217.  
  1218. >Eventually in the wall ahead you spy a tunnel with an upward incline. If you can get in there, it might take you back up to the road, or at least to one of the side tunnels. The only problem is that it’s about eight feet off the ground.
  1219.  
  1220. >“I’m not going to leave you down here,” Anon says, when you tell him to climb on your back to reach it.
  1221.  
  1222. >You almost argue, before you realize that he’s not going to be able to pull you up there with a broken arm.
  1223.  
  1224. “Don’t worry,” you say. “We’ll find a different tunnel.”
  1225.  
  1226. >Try as you might, you can’t keep the nerves out of your voice. Being trapped down here in the dark is starting to get to you. Every part of you is screaming to get out of here, and it takes all your effort to quash that feeling of panic.
  1227.  
  1228. >Anon is quiet for a moment. “Wait,” he says.
  1229.  
  1230. >You hear the rustle of cloth, then soft ribbons against your face. Anon is handing you the sling.
  1231.  
  1232. You’re taken aback. “Anon… no, you’ll hurt yourself,” you say. “You could do permanent damage to the bone.”
  1233.  
  1234. >“We need to get out of here.”
  1235.  
  1236. “There… there are other tunnels. We’ll find one we can reach.”
  1237.  
  1238. >“There might not be another one. Let’s get in there before we wake up the locals.”
  1239.  
  1240. >You want to argue, but you know in your gut that this is the right course of action. You feel sick to your stomach as you pack the sling into your bag.
  1241.  
  1242. >Anon climbs onto your back and is able to throw his arms into the tunnel. You hear him grunting as he shimmies his way inside.
  1243.  
  1244. >His voice is labored when he calls down to you. “Come on.”
  1245.  
  1246. >You stand up on your hind legs and reach up blindly with a hoof. Eventually his hand finds it and he starts to pull you up.
  1247.  
  1248. >Halfway through, he hisses through his teeth, his strength faltering. Just before he drops you, you reach out wildly with your other hoof and just barely catch the lip of the tunnel. You hang precariously until he grabs you again and pulls you all the way in.
  1249.  
  1250. >You hear him sit down, hard. He’s panting loudly, obviously in pain. You want to do something, anything, but you don’t know what; you could offer him a numbing draught, but that would make him sluggish, which neither of you can afford right now. You have no drug you can offer him, no comfort other than the sling. There is nothing you can do.
  1251.  
  1252. “Anon…” you say, standing motionless beside him.
  1253.  
  1254. >Then his good arm wraps around you, and pulls you into his embrace.
  1255.  
  1256. >You can’t remember the last time someone hugged you. He holds you tightly, his arm around your back. Your head finds the empty space just below his chin. You feel the ragged rise and fall of his chest.
  1257.  
  1258. >Trembling a little, you awkwardly put your forelimbs around him. He rests his head on yours, as you nuzzle into his neck. You feel your ears burning, and your heart going strangely fast.
  1259.  
  1260. >You feel compelled to say something, but no words come to mind. Your thinking is suddenly a jumble. So you shut it off. You close your eyes, shutting out the mountain, the earthcrawlers, all of it, and focusing solely on Anon’s warmth, and the sound of his breath. Both of you lay there, saying nothing, just holding each other in the darkness.
  1261.  
  1262. >His breathing slowly relaxes, to the point where you wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Then he finally breaks the silence.
  1263.  
  1264. >“Can you put it back on?”
  1265.  
  1266. >Wordlessly you pull around to his side, where his broken arm hangs limply. You tie the sling back on.
  1267.  
  1268. >After you do this, he stands up again.
  1269.  
  1270. >“Moss Moon,” he says.
  1271.  
  1272. “Y… Yeah?”
  1273.  
  1274. >“Don’t think that this was your fault. Dangerous things happen to people like us. That’s just the life we live.”
  1275.  
  1276. >He can’t see it, but you swallow, and look down to the ground.
  1277.  
  1278. “I… I know.”
  1279.  
  1280. >There is silence again, the silence you have come to realize occurs when Anon has something else he wishes to say, but thinks better of it. Instead he pats you on the head, and you poke him in the foot, a gesture of camaraderie that feels more natural every time you do it.
  1281.  
  1282. >The two of you set off up the tunnel, searching together for a way out of this hell.
  1283.  
  1284.  
  1285. Part 9
  1286.  
  1287.  
  1288. >You are a human warrior, and you can see nothing at all.
  1289.  
  1290. >Moss Moon walks at your side, an invisible shape in the darkness. You hold on to her mane as she guides you, your ears picking up only the faint chirp of her echolocation as she gauges the path ahead.
  1291.  
  1292. >You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been wandering these tunnels. It’s easily been hours, following the labyrinth carved out by earthcrawlers you have yet to encounter. You consider yourself fortunate.
  1293.  
  1294. >Every part of you aches. Weariness weighs heavily on your body. Your broken arm pulses with dull pain. You’d like nothing more than to curl up on the ground and go to sleep, but you know that you cannot. You have to keep going, both for you, and for her.
  1295.  
  1296. >You find it strange how close you’ve gotten with this bat pony, this mare who seems so friendly and yet so guarded at the same time. It feels good, but strange, and unfamiliar; it has been a long time since you’ve been able to call someone “friend.” And yet here you are, walking side by side with the unlikeliest of companions, far deep beneath the mountain.
  1297.  
  1298. >You don’t know what you were thinking, with the hug. She had been standing there and you both were afraid and it had occurred to you to put your arm around her. It was no secret that you were terrified of this dark place, but in that moment you had felt a strange sort of peace, as she relaxed against you, her heartbeat slowing, her breath on your neck. It had been a wonderful feeling.
  1299.  
  1300. >Even now it feels good just to be beside her, not only because she can actually see the path, but also because you know that you are not alone. You hope she feels the same comfort.
  1301.  
  1302. >Now there can be no words between you, however. You both are trying to move as quietly as possible, boots and hooves sliding over rough, raw stone.
  1303.  
  1304. >You wince as gravel suddenly crunches underfoot. Moss Moon stiffens, and stops. You feel her groping around in the dark, trying to get your attention, and you lean down to listen.
  1305.  
  1306. >“Fresh tunnel,” she whispers in your ear. You had felt distant rumblings and vibrations earlier, but you couldn’t tell where they were coming from. It seems that you’ve located the remnants of at least one crawler’s recent travels.
  1307.  
  1308. >You nod, signaling your understanding of the danger, and Moss Moon sets off once again. The tunnel slopes sharply upward, to the point where you must climb in places, the path zigzagging up and over veins of hard rock.
  1309.  
  1310. >You continue for an indeterminate amount of time, perhaps half an hour. As you climb, the earth begins to rumble again. This time, it’s close by.
  1311.  
  1312. >You hear Moss Moon’s hooves scrabbling on something above you, and you blindly boost her up. A moment later she’s pulling on you as you struggle to climb onto a sagging ledge of stone.
  1313.  
  1314. >The whole mountain seems to vibrate, and the sound of grinding stone fills your ears. Moss Moon isn’t moving.
  1315.  
  1316. >You almost yell to her to ask why she’s stopped, when she shouts over the cacophony: “A hole! There’s a hole here! I can see the road!”
  1317.  
  1318. >Relief washes over you. The road. Finally, you’ll be getting out of this accursed place. You’ll reach unknown lands and see the Lunar Spring. You’ll get to see the other side.
  1319.  
  1320. >The rumbling continues, and you hear the sharp sound of stone striking stone. Moss Moon must be trying to buck through the thin rock and widen the hole.
  1321.  
  1322. >You begin turning to help her, when out of the corner of your eye you see a small blue light.
  1323.  
  1324. >The light rolls around in the depths of the tunnel below you. You watch as it slowly draws closer and closer. The light is joined by others, until a glowing circle is rising gradually from the deep dark. The rumbling grows louder and louder, the shriek of rock burning like fire in your ears. You feel a profound dread sink into your stomach.
  1325.  
  1326. >You tap Moss Moon to get her attention. She turns to look. You faintly hear her curse, then redouble her efforts to break through the rock, bucking frantically at the wall.
  1327.  
  1328. >The circle of blue lights draws near, and with a sound like a thousand knives grinding together, the circle opens. A maw lined with row after row of razor-sharp teeth opens wide beneath you, bathed in a sickly blue glow. A high-pitched whine escapes the earthcrawler’s gullet as its teeth begin to spin at blinding speed.
  1329.  
  1330. >Where the cave-in earlier had felt surreal, this feels as if all your senses have been attuned for this one moment. You smell the alkaline stench of powdered stone, the scent of sweat and fear. Your heart pounds steady in your chest. Your muscles hold taut. Your eyes hone in on the one thing you’ve seen in what feels like an eternity: a vision of death slithering toward you, its slimy body and many teeth. You hear Moss Moon shouting, pounding on the wall, shouting.
  1331.  
  1332. >There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She won’t be able to break through in time. There is only one thing you can do.
  1333.  
  1334. >You had wanted to see the other side, but what you wanted most of all was to see your companion’s face again.
  1335.  
  1336. >The earthcrawler lunges, its mouth widening to engulf you both. You draw your sword with your unbroken arm, and leap.
  1337.  
  1338. ***
  1339.  
  1340. >“…moonlight, like sunlight, is diffracted into two parts: the spirit, and the substance.
  1341.  
  1342. >The spirit of moonlight is what we typically call “moonlight”; that is, the illumination provided by the moon. The substance of moonlight is its point of origin and progenitor; that is, the moon itself.
  1343.  
  1344. >If both the spirit and substance of the moonlight were to be combined, the effect would be quite powerful indeed, drawing upon the vastness of dreams, and the inherent power of the lunar.
  1345.  
  1346. >Needless to say, such a combination is quite impossible, so long as the moon remains lodged in the firmament, and ponykind remains earthbound.”
  1347.  
  1348. >- Excerpt from “Properties of Lunar And Celestial Light And Those Bodies From Which They Originate,” a dry and dusty tome with a red vellum cover, most certainly hundreds if not thousands of years old.
  1349.  
  1350. >This book lies in a stack in Grandmother’s study, its pages rather dog-eared, resting in the shade of a shelf of colored powders. Beneath that book is a lacquered, jade-hued codex, substantially newer, and radically different. An excerpt:
  1351.  
  1352. >“As late as three centuries ago, references can be found with significant frequency to goddesses of both the sun and moon. These figures were believed to hold such power over the celestial bodies that they could move them on a whim, and in fact these goddesses were believed to control the cycle of day and night.
  1353.  
  1354. >Gradually this ditheistic belief disappeared, to be replaced by monotheistic apprehensions of the same myths, with variants devoted specifically to either the sun or moon goddess. A common theme in the evolution of these faiths was the idea that the moon goddess – whether through banishment or of her own volition – had gone to sleep within the moon.
  1355.  
  1356. >What is most curious is the shift in the popular image of the moon goddess. In surviving shrines and temples, we see that the moon goddess was associated with the dreaming of mortal ponies, and that she acted as a sort of guide or shepherd for mortals as they slept.
  1357.  
  1358. >Over time, the symbols and practices associated with the moon goddess began to change, as she became associated not only with dreaming, but also with death. In the same way that she guided sleepers in their dreams, so too did she guide the spirits of the dead, as their lives ended and new dreams began.”
  1359.  
  1360. >These books, of course, are quite old, and the religions and scientific principles discussed within bear only a passing resemblance to those currently accepted by the bat ponies of Hollow Shades and the lower Crystal Mountains.
  1361.  
  1362. >Grandmother snoozing in her chair, her implements of imprecations and curses scattered on blood-stained parchment upon her worktable, prays to a Goddess much like her ancestors did; but in this era, that Goddess is far different from what she once was.
  1363.  
  1364. >But still do the bat ponies pray to her, whispering “Goddess save the little foals” for the countless orphans that crowd the enclaves of the Asperi.
  1365.  
  1366. >And so too does a lone bat pony mare, her wings cut from her back, pray to her Goddess, as with all her strength she drags the body of a human from the depths of Foal Mountain, his tattered cloak soaked in blood.
  1367.  
  1368. >You are Moss Moon, and your friend is dying.
  1369.  
  1370.  
  1371. Part 10
  1372.  
  1373.  
  1374. >You are Moss Moon.
  1375.  
  1376. >Your companion’s mangled body lies nearby. Bloodstained bandages cover the stump of his missing arm. Your mouth waters involuntarily at the delicious scent.
  1377.  
  1378. >You stand over him, watching him shiver. His eyes are dull, unseeing; his face drained of color.
  1379.  
  1380. >By skill and fortune, he had caught the creature’s lunge on his left side, exposing its underbelly to his sword. With one stab he had pierced its pulsing heart and spilled its lifeblood on the rock. He had saved you, at the cost of a limb and probably his life.
  1381.  
  1382. >You take stock of your surroundings. Thin trees are all around you, a neon woodland sloping down the mountain, sparse and ancient.
  1383.  
  1384. >For the first time since you were a filly, you feel an overwhelming sense of helplessness. It chokes your vision and burns like a coal in the pit of your stomach.
  1385.  
  1386. >You knew you should’ve left him in Hollow Shades. He never would’ve gotten hurt if you’d just abandoned him there. Yet now here he lies dying, bleeding out slowly in the shadow of Foal Mountain. None of this would’ve happened if you’d just left him behind.
  1387.  
  1388. >None of this would’ve happened.
  1389.  
  1390. >You feel your eyes burn, as helplessness turns to rage. Blinking back tears, you lash out at a tree, making it quiver sturdily from the impact.
  1391.  
  1392. >This is stupid. There’s no use feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve spent your whole life taking care of yourself and correcting your own mistakes. There’s never been a safety net.
  1393.  
  1394. >When things go wrong you’ve always had to find a way to make it right, and crying about your suffering never solved anything. The day you stop trying is the day you lay down to die.
  1395.  
  1396. These are all high-minded and valiant things to think, but you know it is only bravado. In reality, you are tired, you are weak. You know that Anon will be dead in a few hours. As always your prayers to your Goddess go unanswered, even though you know she can hear you.
  1397.  
  1398. The moon will be full in two days; the lives of a dozen foals rest on your shoulders, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to reach the Spring in time.
  1399.  
  1400. Your entire body shakes as hot, angry tears come unbidden. For a good minute you stand there crying, letting the rage wash over you, until you push your mane from your face, take a shaky breath, and start building a harness.
  1401.  
  1402. Strange blue-black vines grow wild on this side of the mountain. You tear them down in long lengths and strip them of thorns with your teeth.
  1403.  
  1404. Anon’s shivering has grown erratic, his breathing shallow. A quick check of his pulse finds it fast and weak.
  1405.  
  1406. “You’re going to be fine, Anon,” you say, trying to convince yourself more than anything else. “I’ll take you to the Lunar Spring, and you’ll get to see it with your own eyes.”
  1407.  
  1408. The healing powers of the Spring are strong during a full moon. You know he has a chance if you can just get him there, but he’s not going to last long in his current state.
  1409.  
  1410. Fishing around in your saddlebag, you pull out your precious vial of firewater that you’ve been saving for years since Grandmother gave it to you. She insists that it’s made of dragon’s blood.
  1411.  
  1412. Tipping the vial against Anon’s pallid lips, you coax him to swallow the clear, red, ever-bubbling liquid.
  1413.  
  1414. He coughs, but his cheeks go red, and his heartbeat pounds stronger in his chest. It’s not much, but it will buy you some time.
  1415.  
  1416. You unfasten your cloak and his and swaddle him with both, folding his arm over his chest and propping up his legs so you can tie a vine around him.
  1417.  
  1418. To this you tie more vines, before securing the whole thing to your body with a loop around your neck.
  1419.  
  1420. >These are all high-minded and valiant things to think, but you know it is only bravado. In reality, you are tired, you are weak. You know that Anon will be dead in a few hours. As always your prayers to your Goddess go unanswered, even though you know she can hear you.
  1421.  
  1422. >The moon will be full in two days; the lives of a dozen foals rest on your shoulders, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to reach the Spring in time.
  1423.  
  1424. >Your entire body shakes as hot, angry tears come unbidden. For a good minute you stand there crying, letting the rage wash over you, until you push your mane from your face, take a shaky breath, and start building a harness.
  1425.  
  1426. >Strange blue-black vines grow wild on this side of the mountain. You tear them down in long lengths and strip them of thorns with your teeth.
  1427.  
  1428. >Anon’s shivering has grown erratic, his breathing shallow. A quick check of his pulse finds it fast and weak.
  1429.  
  1430. “You’re going to be fine, Anon,” you say, trying to convince yourself more than anything else. “I’ll take you to the Lunar Spring, and you’ll get to see it with your own eyes.”
  1431.  
  1432. >The healing powers of the Spring are strong during a full moon. You know he has a chance if you can just get him there, but he’s not going to last long in his current state.
  1433.  
  1434. >Fishing around in your saddlebag, you pull out your precious vial of firewater that you’ve been saving for years since Grandmother gave it to you. She insists that it’s made of dragon’s blood.
  1435.  
  1436. >Tipping the vial against Anon’s pallid lips, you coax him to swallow the clear, red, ever-bubbling liquid.
  1437.  
  1438. >He coughs, but then his cheeks go red, and his heartbeat pounds stronger in his chest. It’s not much, but it will buy you some time.
  1439.  
  1440. >You unfasten your cloak and his and swaddle him with both, folding his arm over his chest and propping up his legs so you can tie a vine around him.
  1441.  
  1442. >To this you tie more vines, before securing the whole thing to your body with a loop around your neck.
  1443.  
  1444. >The harness complete, you set off into the forest, heading for the nameless mountain on the horizon where the Lunar Spring is hidden.
  1445.  
  1446. >Adrenaline keeps you going for a little while. You hardly feel the weight of your companion as you drag him over the mottled floor of the primal wood, a canopy of fluorescent blues and greens waving overhead.
  1447.  
  1448. >But after a few hours you feel the weariness creeping back into your bones, and you become more and more conscious of the heaviness of your hooves. Soon your legs are burning with fatigue.
  1449.  
  1450. >Deprived of food, deprived of sleep, every part of you screams to stop, but you still have so far to go.
  1451.  
  1452. >Spare woodlands give way to dry prairie as far as the eye can see. You follow the remains of the ancient road until it erodes into nothing, and you are left only with squat green grass and wildflowers.
  1453.  
  1454. >Your gaze wanders skyward, looking for anything to distract yourself. Clouds like spindles of platinum and alabaster sit motionless high above you. You busy yourself discerning shapes in their forms as the sun slowly rises.
  1455.  
  1456. >Despite the rising temperature, Anon is shivering again when you stop briefly to eat. You see that the effects of the firewater are wearing off, as his face is once again pale. He murmurs something, but when you try to put your hoof in his hand, he doesn’t seem to notice.
  1457.  
  1458. “I’m right here, Anon,” you say. “We’re making good time. Just stay with me, okay?”
  1459.  
  1460. >You look out at the mountain in the distance. You know you’ve gone a long way, but it seems like you’ve made hardly any progress at all.
  1461.  
  1462. >Just stay with me.
  1463.  
  1464. >You continue, putting your head down, watching one hoof go in front of the other. You focus on the monotony, pushing away the exhaustion, knowing that this suffering will not last forever, so long as you do not stop.
  1465.  
  1466.  
  1467. >Afternoon comes and the sky turns the color of a blood orange. You are so tired that you are unsteady on your hooves, and periodically you find yourself dozing even as you stumble endlessly onward.
  1468.  
  1469. >Anon is an anchor at your back. His cloak rustles through the grass as you drag him. The vines are cutting into your neck and shoulders, chafing the flesh raw.
  1470.  
  1471. >You down the rest of your coffee, bitter dregs and all, choking on the lukewarm slurry. The sun slowly sets, casting purple shadows across the prairie, and the near-full moon rises, darkness bringing with it the chill of night.
  1472.  
  1473. >There are stars in the sky tonight. So many stars.
  1474.  
  1475. >Anon is shivering so violently that you can hear him over the rustle of the grass. He pants rapidly, struggling to breathe.
  1476.  
  1477. >You want to stop. You want to do something, but you have nothing more to give, no medicine, not even a blanket. All you can do is keep going.
  1478.  
  1479. >All is silent on the prairie. No wind is blowing. Even the insects are quiet. Anon is shivering.
  1480.  
  1481. >You begin to sing him a lullaby, like the ones you sometimes sing for the orphans when they come to sleep in the orchards at the Stronghold. Your voice is rough and untrained; you know it is not beautiful.
  1482.  
  1483. >But still you sing anyway, of silly bat ponies eating mangoes and playing tricks.
  1484.  
  1485. >You keep singing well after Anon has gone quiet again, and well after he has stopped moving altogether.
  1486.  
  1487. >When you finally break off your last quavering notes, your eyes are wet with tears.
  1488.  
  1489. >Morning finds you bleary and barely conscious. The mountain is much closer, looming up toward the clouds, but the base is still miles away. The day will be long.
  1490.  
  1491. >The grass beneath your hooves is stained slowly from blue to golden as the sun breaches radiant on the horizon. You feel its heat rising up your body as the morning drags on. By noon it is beating down upon you, and you can barely see anything for how bright it is.
  1492.  
  1493. >You’ve run out of water, having lost your own supply when you fell. Anon’s waterskin is completely dry. You’d wasted some earlier trying to get him to drink, only to have it dribble from his mouth.
  1494.  
  1495. >Parched, you continue on in the heat of the day. Glimmers of heat warp the air in the distance, mocking you with mirages of water. You feel death dancing around you. You have a feeling, an irrational sensation, but one that you feel is not wholly wrong; you know that if you stop, you will die.
  1496.  
  1497. >Your thoughts turn inevitably to the things that you know. Disconnected images flashing through your mind without coordination. It’s difficult to think, when you’re dying.
  1498.  
  1499. >Nightstone, Hex. All the orphan foals. In their hooves they hold the bland but nutritious melons that grow all around the Stronghold. Eating just like you showed them. You wonder if they’re okay.
  1500.  
  1501. >Grandmother who still thinks of you as unclean. Memories of sleeping curled up on the floor of her little house, smelling the strange chemicals that she would brew and the scent of old paper that she used to read before she went blind.
  1502.  
  1503. >Hunter Killer, who she cursed. You imagine him wandering through the forest around Hollow Shades, perpetually lost, hissing with anger at every thorn that finds its way somehow into his hoof, at every angry rash and insect bite that appears seemingly from nowhere.
  1504.  
  1505. >You think of all the ponies who ever spit on you, and strangely you imagine them eating, all sitting at a banquet, shoveling meat and fruit into their mouths.
  1506.  
  1507. >Your stomach rumbles at the thought. You’ve eaten nothing but a few ounces of trail rations over the past three days. Your muscles and joints are in agony, bones grinding into soft cartilage, tendons inflamed by constant use. Your eyelids are so very heavy. You fantasize about lying down on the prairie, curling up beside Anon’s motionless body, and going to sleep. But then you remind yourself that death is waiting. Not just for you, but all those depending on you. So you keep walking.
  1508.  
  1509. >At first you don’t notice that you’ve reached the mountain. You blindly follow the path, having covered this route almost a dozen times. In your mind, it’s just like going home.
  1510.  
  1511. >When the path takes a sharp turn upward, however, you nearly collapse from the strain.
  1512.  
  1513. >Anon’s weight seems to magnify a hundred-fold. Every step forward is a herculean effort. You press forward, digging deep with your powerful legs, inclining forward against the load. Sweat drips down your body, plastering your mane and fur to your skin.
  1514.  
  1515. >Around and around you go, following the mountain path. The sun is a blazing red disk in the sky, boring into you with its inescapable heat.
  1516.  
  1517. >But despite the torturous heat, despite your exhaustion, you feel a strange lightness entering you, a pleasant numbness. You’re on the mountain, you realize. You’ve made it.
  1518.  
  1519. >You’re going home.
  1520.  
  1521. >As if renewed by this thought, you lift your head, blinking away the sweat. This isn’t impossible. No, it’s very much possible. You’re here now. Death might want you, but it’s not going to get you, not you or Anon or any of the foals.
  1522.  
  1523. >You are strong, and you are going to make it.
  1524.  
  1525. >Music returns to you as you start to hum some nonsense tune. Still the mountain path curves up and around, reaching for the summit. Afternoon begins to fade into twilight, and you are strutting up the mountain, feeling the heat fade as darkness slowly returns.
  1526.  
  1527. >The sun is setting as the mountain path slowly turns from red to blue. Crickets here are chirping, and you feel like laughing. Ancient ruins are visible on each side. Cracked and weather-beaten stones poke up from the mountainside, but you hardly see them. You’re focused only on the path ahead, and the feeling of Anon dragging along behind you.
  1528.  
  1529. >A thousand miles distant, ten thousand miles, a hundred – perhaps the Goddess watches you, a tiny figure alone in this strange land, slowly crawling up the mountain.
  1530.  
  1531. >Eventually the path levels out, and actually begins to dip down, entering a basin. Your vision is too narrow to see anything but the enormous black pool waiting still and placid at the bottom.
  1532.  
  1533. >The sight of it makes you shiver all over, as you realize that you did it, somehow. You made it to the Lunar Spring.
  1534.  
  1535. >You drag Anon to the water’s edge and pull him free of the harness. Gingerly you push him into the shallows, until he is submerged up to his neck. His face is deathly pale, and he makes neither sound nor movement when you touch him.
  1536.  
  1537. >As you work, the full moon rises just over a spire of rock, casting its pale light into the basin.
  1538.  
  1539. >The black water catches the glow, and before your eyes the surface takes on a luminous sheen, as if the Spring itself is filled with moonlight.
  1540.  
  1541. >Carefully you draw the three surviving bottles of precious salt from your saddlebag. Your hooves shaking with exhaustion, you tap their contents one by one into empty vials, until each tiny glass ampoule has a few grains in the bottom.
  1542.  
  1543. >One by one you dip the vials into the pool, smiling as the water comes away glowing, the salted water preserving the Spring’s power. You cork them and set them aside. When all is done, a dozen ampoules rest on the shore, each one shedding soft white light.
  1544.  
  1545. >Now you drink deep of the spring, taking in greedy mouthfuls, your cracked tongue swelling as you fill your cheeks with water.
  1546.  
  1547. >Then for a moment you draw away, surveying your work. The vials are filled; the panacea has been made. Anon floats in the shallows of the Spring. You whisper a prayer over him as you idly run your hooves through his hair. You feel your vision failing, and become curiously aware of your heart beating in your chest.
  1548.  
  1549. >You think of him last, the strange taciturn fellow who had stuck by you through everything these past few weeks. The first one in a long time who you could perhaps call “friend.” Something that never would’ve happened, if you’d simply left him at Hollow Shades.
  1550.  
  1551. >Please don’t let him die, you think. You feel yourself fading fast. You’d let them take your wings again, if it just meant that he could live.
  1552.  
  1553. >Your eyelids flutter, your eyes unfocusing as you sink to the ground, all your energy gone.
  1554.  
  1555. >“Rest now, little one,” you hear a voice say, before you faint dead away, into the oblivion of sleep.
  1556.  
  1557.  
  1558. Part 11
  1559.  
  1560.  
  1561. >You are Anon, a human warrior
  1562. >And you are dreaming again
  1563. >A blood dream
  1564. >Red skies, red earth, red fire
  1565. >Your arm is just a stump, charred into nothing
  1566. >Beneath you runs a blackened plain, veined with scarlet
  1567. >In the distance stands a man with shaggy hair, his back to you
  1568. >Over his shoulders is draped a dark cloak, and stuck blade first in the ground is your father’s zweihander
  1569. >At his feet lie shapeless lumps, their limbs askew
  1570. >Their wings like bloody, senseless art on the ground
  1571. >The man turns, and his sallow face repulses you
  1572. >The black, dead eyes of Cutter
  1573. >Watching you
  1574. >You hear a voice in your mind
  1575. >A female voice, strong and clear
  1576. >“Why did you run?”
  1577. >You remember that day, when you’d stabbed Father and fled into the foothills
  1578. >You had hid and starved in caves, living off ashen water, until a wandering medic’s wagon took you in
  1579. >You were only a child
  1580. >That answer is weak, you think. So you say nothing
  1581. >But she knows your thoughts.
  1582. >“They were children, too.” Her words are ice cold. “My children.”
  1583. >Cutter’s cloak melts off his back
  1584. >A thousand wings bleed into the red earth
  1585. >He is just a shadow
  1586. >Watching
  1587. >A curved knife in his pale hand
  1588. >Suddenly between your shoulder blades you feel an insistent pulse
  1589. >It quickly grows warm, then searing hot
  1590. >You hiss in pain, feeling it burn into your back, feeling the hot blood drip down your skin, making you double over
  1591. >You fall to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut from the agony, knowing that you deserve it
  1592. >That you were a coward
  1593. >That you are a coward, wandering from place to place, doing nothing, feeling nothing
  1594. >That you deserve to die, because you killed him not because of what he did, but because you were afraid
  1595. >She spits out a word
  1596. >“Enough.”
  1597. >The pain slowly fades
  1598. >You open your eyes again, and you find yourself in a new world
  1599. >Blue-black water envelops you
  1600. >Instantly you feel its chill upon your face, your skin
  1601. >You choke, briefly, before you realize you have no need to breathe
  1602. >You look all around, and see only shadow
  1603. >It is blackest in the depths below
  1604. >You sense something watching you from the deep
  1605. >“You should not wish for death,” she says. “Because I am waiting for you there.”
  1606. >You try to move, but you find yourself paralyzed, unable to look away
  1607. >Something massive shifts below you, disturbing the water, pulling you slowly into darkness
  1608. >You realize that this is the end
  1609. >You’re about to die
  1610. >You will never see the sun again, or Moss Moon, or the spring
  1611. >There will be only blackness, and cold, and oblivion
  1612. >Nothingness
  1613. >You tremble, closing your eyes tight, trying to cling to what you can
  1614. >Remembering her color, the sound of her voice, her face
  1615. >The scars on her body
  1616. >Her pain
  1617. >How many times has she made that journey, all alone?
  1618. >With no one caring whether she lived or died, or made it back at all?
  1619. >No one should have to live like that
  1620. >No one should have to be alone
  1621. >You can’t die here
  1622. >You can’t just leave her all alone.
  1623. >Water twists around you as you thrash in place, struggling against the invisible bonds that hold you
  1624.  
  1625. “Let me go!” you try to shout, but it comes out only as bubbles
  1626. >As you speak, you feel the icy water surge into your mouth and down your throat
  1627. >Filling your lungs
  1628. >Choking you
  1629. >You gurgle, struggling, as you drown
  1630. >You are being pulled down, down, into darkness
  1631. >All the blue is gone, leaving only black
  1632. >You can see nothing, nothing but the immeasurable shape of whatever creature is tormenting you
  1633. >“You once killed my children, but now you help them,” she hisses. “Do not think this redeems you in my eyes.”
  1634. >More bubbles spill from your mouth in answer
  1635. >Everything is going hazy and dark
  1636. >Death is coming
  1637. >Death and nothingness, for all eternity
  1638. >“But I will allow you to live.”
  1639. >The choking abruptly stops
  1640. >Once again you no longer need to breathe
  1641. >You gag, feeling the gorge in your throat
  1642. >”If you will be their shield, then you will become my sword,” she continues, ignoring your discomfort. “I will give you the power of the dreaming. You will not know the dreams of my children, but you will know those of their enemies.”
  1643. >Her voice darkens. “And you will kill those enemies, until they have been stricken from the earth, and my children are safe again.”
  1644. >As her words fade, you feel a sudden throb in your skull, a deep vibration, as if a great bell is reverberating in your brain
  1645. >You clap your hands to your temples, trying to stop it, to still the bone, but it does nothing
  1646. >You scream in agony as your skeleton rattles, your teeth chattering involuntarily, the deep, horrible pounding in your mind growing more and more intense, until it feels like your head is about to explode
  1647. >And then nothing
  1648. >Only silence, darkness, and the chill of the water
  1649. >“Make this life count, nameless creature,” she says. “The next time we meet, I will make my final judgment.”
  1650. >“Now go. My child needs you.”
  1651. >A vortex forms slowly around you, now drawing you up, toward the surface
  1652. >You hear the voice from the deep call after you as you ascend
  1653. >“She has grown attached to you, Anonymous,” she says. “See to it that she does not get hurt.”
  1654. >A final, dark whisper: “I will be watching.”
  1655. >You tear your eyes away from the depths, from that great shadow, and look up, toward the blue light
  1656. >It’s so warm, so bright
  1657. >You rise toward it, suddenly feeling your heart in your chest, the blood flowing into your limbs
  1658. >Warmth fills you, tingling all throughout your body
  1659. >Warmth, relief, and elation
  1660. >Moss Moon….
  1661. >You close your eyes, just as you feel the crown of your head breach the surface –
  1662.  
  1663. ---
  1664.  
  1665. >Golden sky greets you when you open your eyes
  1666. >All is quiet, peaceful
  1667. >Gulls wing in lazy circles, letting out their keening calls
  1668. >You realize that you are resting in warm water
  1669. >You flex your toes, your hands, and find that all your limbs are intact, somehow
  1670. >Even the wounds on your shoulder and leg are gone
  1671. >Gingerly you sit up
  1672. >The view takes your breath away
  1673. >Unfolding before you is a vast circle of still black water
  1674. >It reminds you, unsettlingly, of your dream
  1675. >Rising up around pool are the rocky peaks of a mountain, towering high above you
  1676. >Dotting the mountainside are the faded, pearlescent ruins of ancient buildings
  1677. >Balconies, walls, structures built into the very stone
  1678. >At one point they must’ve been sprawling and grand, but now they are covered in flora
  1679. >Bright flowers sprout between balustrades and vines hang down in great green ropes
  1680. >You hear splashing nearby, and turn to look
  1681. >Your heart stirs
  1682.  
  1683. >Bathed in the afternoon light, a broad smile on her face, is Moss Moon
  1684. >Her wet coat and mane gleams as she swims toward you
  1685. >A fish hangs from her mouth, impaled by her fangs
  1686. >Her words are muffled as she leaps at you, throwing her forelimbs around your neck, hugging you tightly
  1687. >She’s shaking a little as you hug her back
  1688. >When she pulls away, her eyes are bright and wet
  1689. >She spits the fish onto the shore. “Bleh!”
  1690. >“Thank the Goddess, you’re alive!” she says. “I – I thought I’d lost you.”
  1691. “I thought I’d lost you, too. What happened?”
  1692. >You notice her looking down at your arm
  1693. >“You uh, were hurt really bad fighting that crawler. But you killed it.” She pauses. “After that you were… well, you were pretty much dead.”
  1694. “But…”
  1695. >“I was all out of supplies, so I carried you up here and let the Spring sort you out. Looks like it worked, huh?”
  1696. “Moss Moon, you dragged me up a fucking mountain, just to save my life?”
  1697. >She looks suddenly embarrassed, blushing as she ducks her head. “Well, yeah…”
  1698. >You hug her again, as tightly as she held you, and give her a quick kiss on the forehead
  1699. “Thank you.”
  1700. >She suddenly seems at a loss for words, mumbling into your chest
  1701. >Seems happy, though
  1702. >After a moment you release her and get up
  1703. >Water drips from your hair and clothes
  1704. >You take a good look out over the water
  1705. “So this is the Lunar Spring,” you say. “I’m sorry. You must’ve missed the full moon, having to deal with me.”
  1706. >She laughs and lifts a hoof to point. Your eyes train toward what she’s indicating: a dozen ampoules of glowing liquid, resting on her cloak by the shore
  1707. >You let out a long breath
  1708. >The full moon was just three days away when she took you into Foal Mountain
  1709. >Somehow in that time span she’d gotten you both all the way here
  1710. >All by herself
  1711. “God damn,” you say. “You really did it. You’re just… incredible, Moss Moon.”
  1712. >You look down at her smiling, but see her looking away, almost uncomfortably
  1713. >Perhaps you’re laying it on a little thick?
  1714. >You decide to move on
  1715. “What is this place?”
  1716. >You relax as she quickly brightens
  1717. >“They’re ruins, as you can see. I haven’t explored much of the complex, but the place is huge. It must’ve been a city once, before something happened to it.”
  1718. >You feel your curiosity rising
  1719. “Want to check it out?”
  1720. >Your stomach rumbles
  1721. “After we eat some supper…”
  1722. >“I was hoping to leave in the morning, but we have some time to explore this evening, if you want.” She grins as she noses the fish toward you. “Go ahead and have this, I already ate. These little guys are delicious.”
  1723. >The fish is wet and clammy in your hands
  1724. >Forlornly you realize that you’re going to have to eat it raw
  1725. >Moss Moon notices you staring at it
  1726. >”What’s the matter?” she asks. “Just suck the blood out of it.”
  1727. “That’s… not how it works…”
  1728. >As you press your teeth together to show her your lack of fangs, she bursts out laughing
  1729. >“I’m just kidding with you, sheesh,” she says. She flicks back a corner of her cloak to reveal a cache of berries. “Here, try these. They’re pretty good.”
  1730. >You can’t help but smile at her mischief
  1731. >With gratitude you sit down to eat, as she curls up beside you
  1732. >As she begins to tell you more about the ruins, you find your gaze wandering out over the dark water of the Lunar Spring
  1733. >Something about it is deeply unsettling
  1734. >You still feel a dull throbbing in the back of your skull
  1735. >The words from your dream still echo in your ears
  1736. >“I will be watching.”
  1737. >”You there, Anon?”
  1738. >Moss Moon snaps you from your reverie
  1739. >You see her looking up at you with concern
  1740. >You shake yourself
  1741. “Yeah. I’m just thinking about a dream I had, while I was unconscious in the Spring.”
  1742. >She sits up, looking serious
  1743. >“What kind of dream?”
  1744. >You tell her everything you remember, about the vision of Cutter, the strong female voice, the dark water and the mammoth creature that resided there
  1745. >She nods along intently, and looks thoughtful when you’ve finished
  1746. >“That had to have been the Goddess,” she says. “She must’ve spoken to you, and made you her knight.”
  1747. “But why? Why me?”
  1748. >“I don’t know.” She pauses. “I know she watches over us, but I’ve never seen her grant a miracle. Maybe you were just in the right place at the right time.”
  1749. >Both of you look out over the water
  1750. >The afternoon light is fading, and the near-full moon is rising in the twilight
  1751. >Its pale glow reflects in the spring, a streak of white on the dark surface
  1752. >“C’mon,” Moss Moon says, after a few moments. “Let’s head up before it gets too dark. There’s a big hall a little north from here that I wanted to look at.”
  1753. >You nod and stand, still looking at the Spring
  1754. >You wonder if it had something to do with what happened to the ponies who once lived here
  1755. >The memory of the Goddess’ anger is still fresh in your mind, and you shiver
  1756. >Perhaps the answer to that possibility is one you’re better off not knowing
  1757. >Moss Moon is waiting
  1758. >You turn and follow her up the path, heading for the ruins.
  1759.  
  1760.  
  1761. Part 12
  1762.  
  1763.  
  1764.  
  1765. >You are Moss Moon, and you are feeling guilty
  1766. >Flowers dot the ancient road that leads up to the ruins
  1767. >You look at them, and not at Anon
  1768. >He’s walking beside you, cheerful and energetic
  1769. >You can still hardly believe that he’s alive
  1770. >He wasn’t even breathing when you’d placed him in the Spring, and his skin had been as pale as the moon
  1771. >Yet here he walks now, his body intact, as if he had never been injured at all
  1772. >A miracle, if you’d ever seen one
  1773. >You can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to hug him, knowing that he was all right
  1774. >And you can’t stop thinking about the dream he told you of
  1775. >About his interaction with the Goddess, and the powers she gave him
  1776. >Nor can you shake the ill sensation you have, knowing that you lacked the courage to tell him about your own dream
  1777. >That dark, horrible dream that you’d had while you slept beside the Spring
  1778. >The one that had filled you with dread, and with guilt when Anon had thanked you for saving him, and when he’d looked at you with such admiration
  1779. >He has to know, you tell yourself
  1780. >And you swear that you will tell him
  1781. >Just… not yet.
  1782. >The road levels out onto a plaza worn by wind and time
  1783. >Bordering the square are ruined structures, some partially-collapsed
  1784. >Their strange white walls take on a mother-of-pearl sheen in the evening light
  1785. >Anon points toward a massive structure in the center, with great twisting spires that were once the color of gold
  1786. >“Is that where we’re headed?”
  1787. “That’s the one. Looks like a palace, don’t you think?”
  1788. >At the base of the structure is a grand archway, in which there was probably once a gate
  1789. >Now it stands wide and empty
  1790. >Stepping tentatively inside, you find yourself in a vast and empty court with a vaulted ceiling
  1791. > A set of stairs sweeps upward from the room’s center, illuminated by three great panes of stained glass
  1792. >Anon inhales sharply
  1793. >“I’ve never seen a place like this before.”
  1794. >It really is amazing; you’ve seen other buildings like this in the complex, but none were as large
  1795. >With your nose you indicate the stairs and balcony, where two of the room’s many exits lead into semi-darkness
  1796. “Let’s go up, the place I wanna see is probably back there.”
  1797. >But as you head up the stairs toward one of the shadowy archways, Anon stops to inspect the stained glass
  1798. >He approaches the leftmost: the cosmos, rendered in vitreous yellow and orange
  1799. >A faint golden glow alights upon him, blessing him with color
  1800. >“It’s beautiful.”
  1801. >You peek through the archway into the next room
  1802. “If you like that, I think you’re really gonna like what’s on the other side.”
  1803. >Just as you thought, he’s flabbergasted after he rounds the corner with you
  1804. >You smile a little, seeing his eyes widen with wonder
  1805. >An enormous high-ceilinged hallway stretches out in front of you
  1806. >Stained glass windows line the walls, casting pastel colors on the worn, checkerboard floor
  1807. >The roof has partially collapsed, where it looks like a giant hole has been punched into the stone
  1808. >A ray of twilight shines down through floating motes of dust, spotlighting the floor with a purplish tinge
  1809. >In the wall below is a similar hole; through it, you can see the Lunar Spring several hundred feet down
  1810. >You saunter up to one of the windows to examine it
  1811. >The glass is broken, but the lower half is still present, depicting in shades of green what appears to be a unicorn tending to a garden
  1812. >Anon is wandering from window to window, enraptured
  1813. >As you go to him, you notice strange, dark shapes along the ground
  1814. >Upon closer inspection, you see that they are roots
  1815. >They run along and into the floor, some creeping out through broken windows
  1816. >Following them into the shadows of the hallway’s furthest reaches, you discover that they lead to something incredible
  1817. >Rising up in the darkness, backed by some kind of glass crest, is a massive tree
  1818. >Its upper boughs sink into the ceiling, and its trunk is as wide around as thirty ponies standing side-by-side
  1819. >Resin oozes from the roots, glowing faintly
  1820. >This must be the largest sunroot tree you’ve ever seen
  1821. >All your torches were lost in Foal Mountain
  1822. >You gather up some of the resin, with the intent to make some paste later using water from the Spring
  1823. >It won’t be perfect, but it will suffice
  1824. >You go to look for Anon, and find him staring up at one of the windows
  1825. >This one runs a spectrum of pinks and purples, from a rosy dawn color down to an indigo nether
  1826. >Two very large ponies, these with wings and horns, watch over a procession of smaller ponies that appear to be circling endlessly in and out of the earth
  1827. >You are reminded of your dream
  1828. >You swallow
  1829. “Anon.”
  1830. >“Yeah?”
  1831. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, but… I had an awful dream last night.”
  1832. >He tears his gaze away from the stained glass to look at you
  1833. >“What of?”
  1834. >His concerned expression gives you another twinge of guilt
  1835. “It started with me back home, in the Stronghold,” you begin, painfully. “The walls were black and white, and I could feel nothing but dread. I could see something coming down from the North.”
  1836. “It was dark and shapeless. I couldn’t look at it directly, no matter how hard I tried.”
  1837. “When it got to the Stronghold, I could see everypony out on the streets. Every bat, every foal… and you.”
  1838. >You pause, and force yourself to continue
  1839. “I tried to scream, but you know how it can be in dreams. I couldn’t move or speak at all. And that thing, whatever it was, started seeping into everything, turning it to rot.”
  1840. “All the stones fell away and every last pony sank into the Stronghold as it melted. No… no one escaped.”
  1841. “Including you.”
  1842. >You glance up at him, wincing, expecting him to be perturbed
  1843. >He just gives a little shrug
  1844. >“Well, not all dreams come true.”
  1845. “You don’t understand,” you say. “That’s not where it ended.”
  1846. >Now he frowns, and you once again stare at the ground
  1847. “After that, I was alone. The mountain became a plain, and everything was red. There was fire and blood, a-and great walking shadows, and you again. You, coming from the North.”
  1848. >Anon interrupts, his voice oddly strained. “I thought I died in the first part.”
  1849. >You shake your head, feeling yourself tremble
  1850. “No. You come back, wielding a black sword and leading an army.”
  1851. “Fire burns in your footsteps and the earth crumbles behind you.”
  1852. “Your soldiers kill everything they touch, and nopony can stop them, until only I am left, and I step forward.”
  1853. “And in the dream… I kill you.”
  1854. >All is silent in the great hall
  1855. >Moonlight filters in through the stained glass, painting the ground with ghostly color
  1856. >When you finally look up at Anon, he’s standing stock still, looking pale
  1857. >He looks away
  1858. >“Come on, Moss Moon, it’s not… that’s not going to happen.”
  1859. >You take a shaky breath, feeling your eyes getting wet
  1860. “I don’t know if you have a choice.”
  1861. >You hear anger in him. “Of course I do. Why would your Goddess give me this power – whatever it is – if she just intended for me to die?”
  1862. “Miracles aren’t free, Anon. And power doesn’t come without a price. She might be able to control you now, but who’s to say what will happen down the line?”
  1863. >He has no response to this
  1864. >You can’t look at him, so you stare at your hooves
  1865. >After a few moments you feel his hand on your head
  1866. >“Look… you’re my friend,” he says. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
  1867. >“I don’t want to forget who I am, or what you mean to me.”
  1868. >“So don’t give up on me, Moss Moon.”
  1869. >You feel the nagging doubt, the lingering dread brought on by the dream
  1870. >But a small part of you knows that the dreaming is not absolute
  1871. >Your life has been a long series of horrors and crushing disappointments
  1872. >Beatings, alienation, loneliness
  1873. >Every chance at happiness, snuffed out just as it began to alight
  1874. >Perhaps this time, it will be different
  1875. “I won’t.”
  1876. >Anon kneels and hugs you, pulling your head against his chest
  1877. >“Thanks.”
  1878. >You close your eyes, listening to his heartbeat
  1879. >“Is that a… tree, over there?”
  1880. >He gives you a last squeeze before standing up
  1881. >Shakily you lead him over to the huge sunroot
  1882. >“Look here, there’s something under it.”
  1883. >It’s true; hidden at the base of the tree, obscured by roots, is what was once a richly ornamented throne
  1884. >Now the tree has almost completely engulfed it
  1885. >Your attention is immediately drawn to the dark glimmer of something shiny buried up under the tree
  1886. >A huge purple gemstone, embedded into the crown of the throne
  1887. >It must be worth a fortune
  1888. >You and Anon exchange a glance
  1889. “It’s an awfully pretty stone,” you say
  1890. >“Exquisite.”
  1891. “It would be a shame to just leave it here.”
  1892. >“A travesty.”
  1893. “Shall we?”
  1894. >“Lets.”
  1895. >After gleefully prying the gem loose, the two of you return to the Spring
  1896. >You have to help Anon navigate the path, as it’s quite dark and the moon is obscured by clouds
  1897. >Nevertheless, the water is glowing faintly when you arrive, though not as strongly as the twelve vials sitting by the shore
  1898. >Looking out over the Spring’s surface, you feel nothing but uncertainty about the future
  1899. >You pray that Hex, Nightstone, and the other foals are all right
  1900. >You worry for Grandmother in her old age
  1901. >You wonder what’s happened to Hunter Killer and his soldiers
  1902. >And you feel a mix of hope and dread, glancing at Anon as he lies down to rest
  1903. >He watches as you scrape sunroot resin into a mortar and beat the spring water into it
  1904. >Something very curious happens
  1905. >To your astonishment, as the paste forms, it begins to glow, weakly at first
  1906. >Soon it is shining bright red, and emitting a dull hum
  1907. >“Is it supposed to do that?” Anon asks
  1908. >“Well…” you say. “No.”
  1909. >The hum becomes a whine, and the mortar suddenly begins to clatter against your hoof
  1910. >Not a good sign
  1911. >With all your might, you hurl the mortar far away from you
  1912. >It thuds into the ground some distance away
  1913. >There is a flash of white light, a roar, and a great explosion of flame
  1914. >You hiss, blinded
  1915. >You faintly hear Anon shouting
  1916. >When you can see again, you look up to see fire on the shore, in the grass
  1917. >Anon is frantically trying to stomp it out
  1918. >A lone tree burns, its lower half immolated
  1919. >You rush over, and together the two of you manage to control the blaze
  1920. >As smoke rises in a thick cloud overhead, you are left staring at the bottle of resin
  1921. >You have no idea what just happened
  1922. >But you have a feeling that you’ve just made a very important discovery
  1923.  
  1924.  
  1925. Part 13
  1926.  
  1927.  
  1928. >You are Anonymous, a human warrior
  1929. >Evening is staining the treetops crimson, and Moss Moon is just a shadow up ahead
  1930. >She crests the hilltop and smiles down at you, and when you reach her, you both look down at the village below
  1931. >After another few weeks’ journey, you’ve at last made it back to Hollow Shades
  1932. >The village is sleepy as you walk the streets; the bats here are just waking up
  1933. >You are greeted only by a few yawning ponies as you follow your companion to her grandmother’s house
  1934. >Moss Moon stops outside. Her smile has faded
  1935. >“This should only take a minute.”
  1936. >You study the haggard lines of her face as she knocks on the door
  1937. >She’s seemed different during the trip back
  1938. >Still friendly and kind, but distant
  1939. >You’ve caught her looking at you often, only for her to quickly glance away
  1940. >That dream she’d had… it disturbed you as much as it had her
  1941. >Your own dreams have grown increasingly bizarre over these past weeks
  1942. >Strange visions of hulking creatures and vast, cyclopean courts
  1943. >You don’t know what to make of it, and Moss Moon seems troubled whenever you bring it up
  1944. >Her face is dark when the door flies open
  1945. >You are shocked by what you see in the threshold
  1946. >Grandmother had seemed old before, but now she looks ancient
  1947. >Once lush and white, her hair is now stringy and sickly yellow
  1948. >Her skin is drawn tightly over her bones, looking almost desiccated
  1949. >Sunken, milky eyes blaze over gaunt cheekbones
  1950. >She sniffs the air, and immediately lashes out with a hoof, grabbing Moss Moon
  1951. >“You,” Grandmother hisses, shaking her. “You’re late. Where is it? Give it to me, give it to me now, you worthless creature!”
  1952. >Moss Moon looks to you and nods
  1953. >Quickly you draw out one of the glowing vials – you’d split the dozen, in case something should happen to one of you – and hand it over
  1954. >Grandmother snatches it from you and drinks it as greedily as she did your blood, taking care to get every last drop
  1955. >When she finishes, the old bat pony lets out a long sigh of supreme pleasure, as if she had not drunk anything in days
  1956. >“Good,” she mutters, her entire body shuddering. “Good. You’ve done well. No one followed you? No one saw?”
  1957. >Her head turns slowly to look at you, and even though she’s blind, you can’t help but shiver
  1958. >You are unsettled when you realize that her skin is slowly becoming more supple before your eyes.
  1959. >“No one,” Moss Moon says. “As far as I know, only we know where the Spring is.”
  1960. >Grandmother’s head whips around, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, ‘as far as you know’? Do you mean that you do not know?”
  1961. >Your companion sighs, in a rare show of exasperation. “We found the location using your books, Grandmother. If there are other copies somewhere, anypony else could do the same.”
  1962. >“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grandmother spits on the ground. “Enough chatter. Get back to your Stronghold and your runts before anyone remembers that you exist. Can’t have the guards beating you to death.”
  1963. >“See you next year, Grandmother.”
  1964. >Moss Moon lifts her hoof, perhaps to pat the elder pony on the shoulder, but before she can, the mare has pulled away and slammed shut the door
  1965. >Your companion stares at it
  1966. You put your hand on her back. “What the hell was that?”
  1967. >She looks downcast. “Her affection for me is… limited,” she says. “Bringing her a vial is just part of our deal.”
  1968. >You remember how seemingly kind the old nag had been when you came through the first time
  1969. >You realize now that Grandmother is more concerned with her yearly delivery of springwater than she is with the pony delivering it
  1970. >Moss Moon leads you down the path back into the village
  1971. >It will soon be night in Hollow Shades, and lanterns glow softly from almost every window
  1972. >“Do you mind if we meet up in a little bit?” Moss Moon asks suddenly. “I have some things I want to take care of.”
  1973. >You glance at her, and notice her looking sheepishly at the ground
  1974. >You’re curious, but you decide not to pry
  1975. “Sure, where should we meet?”
  1976. >“There’s a tavern here called the Shady Trough. The food’s good and they have real beds.”
  1977. >The mere concept of such things brings a smile to your face
  1978. “All right, I’ll see you there.”
  1979. >You stand for a moment, watching her trudge off to wherever she’s going
  1980. >It’ll be good to have some time alone
  1981. >You’ve been traveling together for what, a month now?
  1982. >She’s been a great friend and companion, but she’s probably tired of dragging you around everywhere
  1983. >You can’t shake the feeling that you didn’t really contribute much to the adventure
  1984. >Coupled with your near-death, you’ve been mostly just a hindrance more than anything else
  1985. >On top of that, you’d told her about your past as a mercenary, and your involvement with the torture of her kind
  1986. >She’d accepted you anyway
  1987. >And when she’d had that dream – in which you became some kind of monster – she’d taken that in stride, too
  1988. >She’s putting a lot of faith in you, you realize
  1989. >More faith than anyone ever has before
  1990. >You don’t know how someone like that, who’s been stepped on and kicked around all her life by everyone, could muster that kind of faith
  1991. >And yet she’s betting on you
  1992. >You don’t know if you’re worth it, but you don’t want to let her down
  1993. >You make an oath that you’ll stick with her for as long as she’ll have you
  1994. >For now, though, she’s off by herself, and you’ve been wandering aimlessly through the village, completely lost in thought
  1995. >The calls of merchants bring you back to reality
  1996. >You wander over to the market, where you find a green-maned trader with a funny accent selling goods from the eastern continent
  1997. >Fruits, mostly
  1998. >You decide to buy a present for Moss Moon and ask for directions to the tavern
  1999. >With your purchase tucked in your pocket, you make for the Shady Trough
  2000. >It’s mostly empty when you get there, just some bat ponies eating breakfast
  2001. >They eye you coolly, but otherwise don’t react to your presence
  2002. >You imagine that they don’t see many humans this far south, but they’ve likely heard stories
  2003. >If the tavern’s mistress has, she doesn’t seem to care; she’s happy to take your coin for a night’s stay
  2004. >You ask about a bath, and she tells you that there’s a spring behind the building
  2005. >The air is cool on your skin, but the water at least is warm
  2006. >With a yellowed chunk of soap you scrub off weeks of accumulated filth, the lye burning your flesh
  2007. >You wash your clothes, too, cleaning as much blood and mud off the fabric as you can
  2008. >After hanging them up to dry, you sit down to soak for awhile, and end up dozing
  2009. >You’ve lost track of time when you remember that you were supposed to meet Moss Moon
  2010. >Leaping naked from the pool, you snatch up your gift and head back to the tavern’s main room
  2011. >The other ponies don’t pay any mind to your makeshift garb – just some blankets wrapped haphazardly around you – but Moss Moon gives you a funny look
  2012. >“I, uh… I like the look.”
  2013. “Thank you.”
  2014. >Laid out before her is a simple but delicious-looking repast
  2015. >Raw meat, fresh apples and carrots, and a tankard of hot toddy
  2016. >The tavern mistress shrugs when you ask her to roast your portion of meat, but she shuffles off to oblige you anyway
  2017. >You and Moss Moon eat in comfortable silence, focused intently on the meal
  2018. >This is the first break from trail rations and paltry game that you’ve had in ages
  2019. >Your companion is absolutely ravenous; she eats more than you’ve ever seen any one creature consume in one sitting
  2020. >You’re worried at first that she won’t be hungry for the present you got her
  2021. >Her eyes widen with surprise when you set it on the table
  2022. “The trader called it a ‘mango.’ Said it grows on the island of Sun-Ne’er-Set, I think. It was a little hard to understand her.”
  2023. >Moss Moon is blushing furiously as she examines the fruit
  2024. >Its flesh is golden with a red flush and a tinge of green
  2025. >“Th-thank you, Anon… why did you…?”
  2026. “It’s a gift. A thank-you for letting me travel with you.”
  2027. >Your companion gently holds it in her hooves
  2028. >She presses her fangs into it and drinks some of its juice
  2029. >Immediately she smiles even wider
  2030. >“Anon – it’s really damn good!”
  2031. >Suddenly she looks around, then slides out of her seat
  2032. >She looks up at you conspiratorially, her eyes bright
  2033. >“Hey, come with me. I wanna show you something.”
  2034. >The next moment she’s heading out the door, and you have to jog to keep up
  2035. >She takes you on a circuitous path through Hollow Shades, ducking through alleys as she leads you to the edge of the village
  2036. >You pass under a dilapidated stone arch and head out in the woods
  2037. >Night has fallen and it’s impossible for you to see anything
  2038. >You stumble around until Moss Moon grabs you and pulls you onward
  2039. >After a few minutes you have no idea where you are, but when you ask, her response is muffled; she’s holding the mango in her mouth
  2040. >Up ahead something forms out of the darkness: a white splotch
  2041. >As you get closer, you realize that it’s a reflection of the moon in a pool of water
  2042. >Moss Moon guides you over to a nearby rock and makes you sit down
  2043. >You’re shivering from cold
  2044. >“Pah!” The mango rolls into your lap. “Put your feet in, it’s a hot spring.”
  2045. >You do so, and feel wet heat soak into your bare soles
  2046. >Moss Moon leans into you, solid and warm
  2047. >She’s quiet for little while as she shares the mango with you
  2048. >The reflection of the moon ripples as your feet disturb the water’s surface
  2049. >Crickets chirp all around you; the air smells crisp and clean
  2050. >“When I was younger, this is where I’d come when Grandmother was in one of her moods,” Moss Moon says, once all that remains of the fruit is the pit
  2051. >“Out here I could be alone, and no one knew I was a bound. Sometimes I felt like I never wanted to leave.”
  2052. “Why did you?”
  2053. >She laughs quietly
  2054. >“I don’t know. When I was young, I was afraid. Grandmother was the only one who spoke to me, and so I listened to what she said. It wasn’t until I got older that I started to think for myself.”
  2055. “Is that why you decided to go to the Stronghold?”
  2056. >Moss Moon nods. “Before she got too old, Grandmother would go there sometimes to take care of the orphans. But even her best treatment couldn’t save the ones that got the wasting sickness. That’s when I thought of using the Spring…”
  2057. >She pauses for a moment, staring into the water
  2058. >“She refused at first. She didn’t want anyone else using its magic. But she was old, and weak, and I realized that… she couldn’t stop me from going there anymore. So I stole some of her salts and left.”
  2059. >“When I came back, she cursed me and called me a betrayer. She chased me from town. I had no money, no tools, no supplies. I knew then that if I wanted to keep helping the foals, I had only one place to go.”
  2060. >The crickets chirp, and a frog begins to croak
  2061. >Silence hangs between the two of you
  2062. >You know that the common Asperi law prevents known bounds from leaving the enclaves in which they have residence
  2063. >Getting caught outside the Stronghold is a serious crime
  2064. >Moss Moon is risking a great deal to do what she does every single year
  2065. >“What are you going to do now that we’ve made it back?” she asks
  2066. “I’ll go on with you to the Stronghold, of course.”
  2067. >She laughs again, but her voice is quiet. “I don’t know if the guards will be too happy about that…”
  2068. >You slap your palm against your forehead as you suddenly remember that you were almost killed trying to get out of that damned place
  2069. “They must’ve forgotten by now, right?”
  2070. >“Not many humans come this way, Anon.”
  2071. >An ill feeling creeps into your gut, as you realize that keeping your oath might not be possible after all
  2072. >These next few days might be all the time you have left with Moss Moon
  2073. >You suddenly feel as if you’re going to be sick
  2074. >She seems to be waiting for you to say something
  2075. “I’ll see you up to the Stronghold, then. It’s the least I can do.”
  2076. >She noses your side, and keeps her face there
  2077. >“Thanks Anon. For everything.”
  2078. >You put your arm around her and stare into the pool
  2079. >The night is quiet
  2080. >And cold
  2081. >“You’re shivering,” Moss Moon says. “Let’s get back to the inn and have another hot toddy.”
  2082. >You toss the mango pit away and stand up
  2083. >Another staggering, shambling walk through the woods and you’re back at the Shady Trough
  2084. >You clink tankards with your sturdy companion and drink down the warm, sweet, spiced beverage
  2085. >Soon enough you’re feeling woozy, Moss Moon is half-dragging you to your room, and somehow you both are talking about the dreaming
  2086. >“You have to focus on it,” she’s saying, her speech slightly slurred. “Open your heart so that you can see the dream for what it really is.”
  2087. >You both fumble with the door and step into the tiny chamber beyond
  2088. >The floor creaks underfoot
  2089. >Inside is a small window, a chest, and an honest-to-god bed
  2090. >The white sheets and pillows call out to you
  2091. >“What I don’t get,” you mumble, sinking onto the mattress, “ish what she meant by… y’know… ‘power.’ The ‘power’ of the dreaming. Is that diff… different from what a dream normally is?”
  2092. >Moss Moon climbs in beside you, pressing up against your chest
  2093. >“I dunno!” she says brightly. “Maybe you’ll be able to see dreams, even when you’re not sleeping.”
  2094. >Your head feels fuzzy
  2095. >That sounds like it could be right, but maybe not
  2096. >You wrap your arms around her warm body and hold her close
  2097. “Maybe…”
  2098. >Her mane brushes your chin as she nuzzles your neck
  2099. >“Open your heart up,” she says. “Can you see what I’m dreaming?”
  2100. >She trails off, and your eyes close
  2101. >You feel her soft breath on your neck
  2102. >You’re suddenly vaguely aware that you’re practically naked, cuddling with Moss Moon, and more than a little drunk
  2103. >A wet nip at your neck sends a shiver down your spine
  2104. >Your pulse quickens, and heat rushes into your face
  2105. >She kisses your neck again, harder this time
  2106. >Instinctively you run your hand up her face, brushing her cheek
  2107. >You feel her trembling against you
  2108. >She pulls back, blushing hard
  2109. >“S-sorry,” she stammers. “I… I…”
  2110. >She lets out a short gasp when you kiss her ear, before tracing down to her cheek
  2111. >She looks up at you, her gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips
  2112. >Her breath comes heavily, hot on your face
  2113. >You feel her heart thumping in her chest
  2114. >Slowly, you lower your head, and kiss her lightly on the mouth
  2115. >She shakes violently, then relaxes
  2116. >You pull away for just a moment before kissing her again, harder this time
  2117. >She seems unsure of what to do with her hooves; you guide her to embrace your neck
  2118. >Your noses keep bumping together but she doesn’t seem to notice
  2119. >Her fangs catch your lower lip, drawing blood, but you ignore the pain
  2120. >She squeezes her eyes shut and presses into you, hugging you with her strong forelimbs
  2121. >Her soft stomach presses up against yours
  2122. >You control yourself, kissing her slowly and gently, not wanting to overwhelm her
  2123. >It’s obvious how new this is for her; how good it feels
  2124. >She moans softly, whimpering a little, her entire body trembling
  2125. >Her eyes are wet when you finally stop
  2126. >She looks almost as if she’s in a happy daze, her mouth curled into a wavering smile
  2127. >You kiss her forehead
  2128. “You okay?”
  2129. >She nods and buries her face against your neck
  2130. >She takes a deep, shuddering breath
  2131. >“Yeah.” She swallows. “Yeah, I am.”
  2132. >You fold your arms around her, holding her tightly, feeling her warmth, the softness of her body
  2133. >You’re unsure of what the future will bring, but you know that in this moment she is happy, and so are you
  2134. >The two of you fall asleep, and for the first time in many days, you dream of nothing at all.
  2135.  
  2136. _____
  2137.  
  2138. >You are Hunter Killer, and you are infuriated
  2139. >You’ve been wandering around this backwater for weeks, suffering all manner of indignities, with absolutely nothing to show for it
  2140. >Rashes, gashes, starvation; swarms of insects, disease, poisoned water
  2141. >Your hair even fell out at one point, and only now is it coming back in
  2142. >If you weren’t such an educated, erudite stallion, you would suspect some kind of foul magic was at work
  2143. >But that would be foolish; no, it is quite clear to you that the blame for this disaster rests solely on the shoulders of your incompetent followers
  2144. >Finding this so-called “magic spring” should’ve been a simple task; you’d read all about it in that stupid book, and you knew it was somewhere in these godforsaken mountains
  2145. >And yet here you are, barely alive, and you’ve made no progress at all
  2146. >You’re not about to give up, though
  2147. >You’re a graduate of the Imperial College! A special officer of the Asperi!
  2148. >And a leader of ponies
  2149. >Yes, leadership
  2150. >That, truly, is your talent
  2151. >If it weren’t for your brave and sober command, these two morons would have been long dead
  2152. “Holtz! Niebler!” you shout. “What did the hero Arid Star do, when she was faced with great adversity, and all hope seemed lost?”
  2153. >“Slept in a cave,” said Holtz, the fat one
  2154. >“I think she started crying helplessly?” said Niebler, the other fat one
  2155. “Wrong and wrong,” you say proudly. “She charged blindly into danger, and found that the path to victory was just waiting to unfold before her. Now what can we learn from this?”
  2156. >“I don’t know,” said Holtz
  2157. >“Nothing?” said Niebler
  2158. “No! What we can learn from Arid Star is that fortune favors the brave.” You lift a hoof to point through a thicket blocking the path ahead. “So one of you – and I’m looking at you, Holtz – jump through these and see what’s on the other side.”
  2159. >The fat bastard hesitates, in clear violation of your orders, so you shove him through
  2160. >He screams and falls out of sight
  2161. >You hear the sounds of him falling down an unseen incline, thumping down until he hits solid ground
  2162. “What is your status, Holtz?” you shout
  2163. >It takes a moment for your underling to reply, and his voice sounds choked when he does
  2164. >“Captain, you need to see this.”
  2165. >Sighing, you brace yourself, and run through the thicket
  2166. >Almost immediately you find yourself falling off a cliff
  2167. >With great grace you land on your flank, utter an inspiring cry of pain, then stagger to your hooves
  2168. >Elation fills you as you see the road, running in either direction as far as the eye can see
  2169. “A-ha! I knew it! I knew it all along! Here I am, and here I have found the road.”
  2170. >Niebler comes through a moment later, against all odds managing to land upright
  2171. >You lazily buff your hoof against your scarf
  2172. “Not bad, but you could use more grace, Niebler.”
  2173. >He doesn't respond, his mouth merely hanging agape
  2174. >You’re about to admonish him for his slack jawed stupidity, when you realize that Holtz hasn’t said a word either
  2175. “Just what is the matter with you two –”
  2176. >You step around, and that is when you see it
  2177. >Tracks on the ground, dozens of them, all heading in the same direction
  2178. >Human tracks
  2179. >And ahead, you see something that makes your skin crawl
  2180. >The blue banner of the Asperi, planted in the skull of a pony
  2181. >You curse under your breath
  2182. “Holtz, Niebler, change of plans.”
  2183. >They look at you, dazed
  2184. >You slap them
  2185. “This is no time for cowardice! It seems the schedule has moved ahead without us. These tracks will assuredly lead us back to that podunk excuse for a fortress. We will go there now and see what can be done.”
  2186. >Their expressions harden, and they nod, falling in behind you
  2187. >You strut forward, head held high
  2188. >You do not show them your fear, for you must lead by example
  2189. >For now the Asperi have sent a warband to occupy the Stronghold, and all your lives are in danger.
  2190.  
  2191.  
  2192. Part 14
  2193.  
  2194.  
  2195. >You are Moss Moon, and for once, you are warm
  2196. >Every night since that evening in Hollow Shades, you’ve been sleeping wrapped up with Anon in his cloak
  2197. >You’d slept beside him before, of course, but he’d never held you like he does now, or let you press your face into his neck
  2198. >It’s the most wonderful feeling to be next to someone, to feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, his steady heartbeat
  2199. >You don’t think you’ve ever felt this happy
  2200. >Even when you’re just walking during the day, you find yourself smiling for no apparent reason
  2201. >Everything about him pleases you, and his presence is relaxing
  2202. >Even so, you struggle to contain your feelings
  2203. >You’re well aware of what infatuation is supposed to be like
  2204. >It’s only been a handful of weeks that you’ve known him, and yet he feels like the best friend you’ve ever had
  2205. >Perhaps because he is.
  2206. >It’s a sobering thought
  2207. >The morning after you’d kissed him, you had been reserved with him
  2208. >You didn’t know what to feel or what to say, and you told him as much
  2209. >He was kind as he patted your back and gave you some dried fruit to eat
  2210. >“I liked it,” was all he said
  2211. >The simplicity of it made you smile, and you’d relaxed a little
  2212. “I liked it, too,” you’d replied.
  2213. >He had smiled, before leaning down to kiss your forehead
  2214. >That had been the last time his lips had touched you
  2215. >The past few days he had seemed content just to hug you at night, and frankly that’s been enough for you
  2216. >You still tremble when he touches you
  2217. >You don’t know how you could stand more, when just being held fills you with warmth and euphoria
  2218. >Sometimes he rubs your ears, much longer and more intimately than before, and it makes you feel a strange tingling all over, and you can’t help but sigh into his neck
  2219. >But now he dozes, breathing quietly, as the two of you lie in the shadow of a great rock
  2220. >The Breaker
  2221. >Usually you’d be asleep already
  2222. >When you were alone, you’d sometimes lay awake for an hour or more, trying to fall asleep
  2223. >Now you doze off almost instantly, so comforted are you by Anon’s embrace
  2224. >Not tonight, though
  2225. >For tonight is the last night you’ll be together before you reach the Stronghold
  2226. >The eleven precious vials glow softly, secreted away in your saddlebags and Anon’s pack
  2227. >Your heart aches to see Hex and Nightstone, and to tend to any foals who have already fallen ill
  2228. >The sickness moves fast; you want to reach them as soon as possible
  2229. >If it weren’t for the blood-drinkers that come out at night, you’d already be forging your way to the Stronghold
  2230. >But that anxiety is colored by a new pain
  2231. >The thought that your companion might not be able to come with you
  2232. >You’ve suffered disappointment and heartbreak before, but this feels different
  2233. >Like a flower being plucked before it has a chance to bloom
  2234. >Shivering, you nuzzle into Anon, trying to quell your nerves
  2235. >He’s asleep, but unconsciously he holds you a little tighter
  2236. >It helps a little
  2237. >You give up a small prayer to the Goddess, for the health and safety of the orphans, and with the wish that whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll be able to see Anon again one day
  2238. >The words finally give you some peace
  2239. >You drift off, cushioned by Anon’s warmth
  2240.  
  2241. >With dawn comes the final leg of your journey
  2242. >You both make your way out of valley, climbing the slope toward the Stronghold
  2243. >Navigating the forest takes most of the day
  2244. >Little is said between you; the exertion of the climb takes most of your focus
  2245. >It’s mid-afternoon by the time you emerge into a clearing near the road
  2246. >You stand for a moment, looking up where it curves around, leading up to the eastern entrance
  2247. >Anon stands a little ways apart
  2248. >“How are you going to get back in?” he asks
  2249. “There’s a secret way, a hole higher up in the rocks. I can get down from there, but I can’t get back up.”
  2250. >He nods, and gives you a sad smile
  2251. >“All right. I’ll wait out here for awhile, in case something happens.”
  2252. >Looking at him, you feel a sudden rush of emotion
  2253. >The gentleness of him, of his eyes
  2254. >It’s hard to see him as a killer, though that is what he is
  2255. >You'd always thought of humans as dangerous creatures, monsters even
  2256. >But in traveling with him, you’ve seen that he is different
  2257. >He is kind, and brave, and he is your good friend
  2258. >And as much as it hurts, you have to leave him here
  2259. >You’re shaking again, and your eyes are full of tears, but you smile up at him, and touch his foot with your hoof
  2260. “Thank you, Anonymous,” you say. “I’ll… I’ll miss you.”
  2261. >He kneels down to hug you one last time
  2262. >You close your eyes, pressing into him, and shudder with joy when he kisses the top of your head
  2263. >“Don’t worry,” he says cheerfully, after breaking away. “We’ll see each other again.”
  2264. >He watches from afar as you creep off into the trees, and raises his hand in goodbye when you look over your shoulder at him
  2265. >You raise your hoof, and then you are gone, into the woods
  2266. >Feeling somehow both miserable and elated, you press on toward the Stronghold
  2267. >It takes only a few minutes for you to reach the outcropping of rock that looks over the eastern entrance
  2268. >You crawl out to the edge and peek over
  2269. >A paroxysm of shock runs through you
  2270. >Immediately you see that something is very wrong
  2271. >Posted at the gate is the brilliant blue banner of the Asperi, and leaning up against the stone is a single human guard
  2272. >He looks rough, broad in the shoulder and the belly, with an axe hanging at his waist
  2273. >Savagely he eats an apple, juice dripping down his chin
  2274. >You hear faint screeching coming from within the Stronghold
  2275.  
  2276. >Anon looks surprised when you run into the clearing
  2277. >“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to see into the trees behind you. “Did something happen?”
  2278. >Breathlessly, you explain what you saw
  2279. >His face is pale when you finish
  2280. >“Why would the Asperi send a unit out here?”
  2281. “I don’t know, but they’ve occupied the Stronghold. I heard screaming…”
  2282. >Anon’s expression hardens
  2283. >He begins walking up the road, and you chase after him
  2284. “Anon, wait! We can’t just fight them, there’s only two of us!”
  2285. >“I’m not going to fight them. At least, not yet. I’m going to ask them for work.”
  2286. “What…?”
  2287. >“I’m a mercenary. If I ask for a job, they’re honorbound to bring me to their captain. Once I’m inside, I can help you.”
  2288. >You want to protest, to tell him not to put himself in danger
  2289. >But you know that he understands the risk of what he’s doing
  2290. >And you need his help
  2291. >You take a deep breath, quashing your fear and your worry
  2292. >You’ve come this far together, and you know that together you can solve this
  2293. “Okay, let’s do it. What should I do?”
  2294. >“Go in through that secret entrance like you were planning. Get to the foals and take care of them. I’ll see what I can learn about what’s going on. Where’s a good place to meet?”
  2295. >You tell him about the hidden orchard, the one you’d shown Hex and Nightstone before you left
  2296. >He agrees to meet you there at nightfall, and once again sets off up the road
  2297. “Anon, hold on –”
  2298. >When he turns around, he’s just barely able to balance himself as you leap on him, standing on your hind legs
  2299. >You feel incredibly warm as you clumsily kiss him on the mouth
  2300. >He’s smiling as he curls his hand into your mane, holding you tightly, deepening the kiss until a wonderful sense of satisfaction glows in your belly
  2301. >Your eyes meet when you part
  2302. >“Take care, Moss Moon,” he says, grinning broadly, before heading back up the road
  2303. “Don’t get killed!” you call. “Again!”
  2304. >You hear him laughing, and you watch until he has gone around the bend and out of sight
  2305. >Your heart pounding your chest, you run off into the woods, and make for the secret entrance in the wall of the Stronghold
  2306.  
  2307. >You are Anonymous, and you feel more alive than you ever have
  2308. >Moss Moon really surprised you that time
  2309. >You can still feel her kiss lingering on your mouth, the bite of her fangs
  2310. >It fills you with a heady sense of courage, overriding the fear you have when you see the guard standing by the eastern gate
  2311. >The man glares at you as he tosses an apple core into the forest
  2312. >His hand drops lazily to the hilt of his axe
  2313. >He demands to know what you want
  2314. “Take me to your captain,” you say, remembering the ritualistic speech taught to you by Father. “I’m looking for work.”
  2315. >The guard’s dark eyes bore into you unerringly, but he flicks his head toward the entrance
  2316. >“Go in. Follow main road. Lead you to square. There, find captain.”
  2317. >His northern accent is nearly incomprehensible, but the directions are easy enough to follow
  2318. >His gaze tracks you as you step inside, but he doesn’t follow you in
  2319. >You are horrified by what you encounter
  2320. >Smoke rises in a black cloud from the center of the Stronghold
  2321. >You smell charcoal and burnt flesh
  2322. >Screeches come sporadically from places further inside
  2323. >You pass a few more humans as you walk down the main street; they eye you coldly, saying nothing
  2324. >There are no bat ponies outside that you can see
  2325. >When you reach the market square, gone are the colorful stalls and merchants with their wares
  2326. >Instead you see wooden fortifications, and a great bonfire in the center
  2327. >Two humans flank the space where the road enters the square
  2328. >One is squat and bearded, the other stocky with long, matted hair
  2329. >They lift their swords and ask you to halt, again demanding to know your business
  2330. “Where is your captain? I would ask him for work.”
  2331. >They exchange a glance
  2332. >“Captain is busy. You will wait.”
  2333. >A high-pitched wail suddenly sounds from beyond the bonfire
  2334. >You know exactly what the captain is doing
  2335. >You struggle to suppress your anger
  2336. “No. He will see me now.”
  2337. >The guards are taken aback as you step forward, brushing past them
  2338. >They do not move to stop you, however
  2339. >You round the edge of the bonfire, feeling its heat on your skin
  2340. >The smoke and flickering red light dulls your vision
  2341. >Up ahead you see a man dressed much differently than his subordinates
  2342. >A fine blue cape with intricate white trim is draped around his stooped shoulders, and he’s dressed in quality cloth and leather
  2343. >His head is crowned with long, shaggy hair
  2344. >A bat pony cowers at his feet, covering its face
  2345. >You see the man lift his boot, and before you can say a word, he delivers a swift kick to his prisoner
  2346. “Captain,” you shout, your voice tense. “I am a free mercenary, looking for work. I would entreat you for a position in your company.”
  2347. >The man had stepped forward to once again kick the sprawled form of the bat pony, but he freezes when you speak
  2348. >He stands there, unmoving
  2349. >It is then that your eyes adjust
  2350. >And you see the large black blade sticking up out of the earth beside him
  2351. >He turns slowly, dark eyes like empty voids over his hooked nose
  2352. >A terrible smile creases his thin lips
  2353. >“Is that you, Boy?” he asks. “My, how you’ve grown.”
  2354. >A wave of horror washes over you
  2355. >You grit your teeth
  2356. “Cutter.”
  2357. >He shakes his head, lifting a finger
  2358. >“Oh, no. It’s Captain, now,” he says. “And your request for work… is denied.”
  2359. >Your hand goes to the hilt of your sword, but you are acutely aware that you are no longer alone
  2360. >Four guards have stepped into the square, all brandishing weapons
  2361. >Cutter pulls a long knife from a scabbard on his waist
  2362. >“Never thought I’d see you again, traitor,” he says. “It’s been far too long. Let’s sit down to tea, just you and I.”
  2363. >You face him, this nightmare man, standing by the fire
  2364. >Your lips ache
  2365. >Moss Moon –
  2366. >You pray that she’ll be all right
  2367. >The blade of your sword whispers as you pull it free.
  2368.  
  2369.  
  2370. Part 15
  2371.  
  2372.  
  2373. >You are Moss Moon
  2374. >You stand in front of the stronghold's orphanage, your hoof poised to open the door
  2375. >Smoke rises from the village center, and with it the smell of fear and fire
  2376. >This place hardly feels like home
  2377. >After sneaking in through the back way, you'd had to avoid humans stalking the streets
  2378. >The windows of every house were dark, and not a single bat pony was to be seen
  2379. >Here in the far corner of the stronghold, all is abnormally quiet
  2380. >Where foals once played, there is now only a trampled garden
  2381. >You pray that they're all in one piece
  2382. >Cautiously you open the door
  2383. >A silver spearpoint greets you
  2384. >Quickly backpedaling, you glance up into the face of your aggressor
  2385. >One of the largest bat ponies you've ever seen is holding the weapon
  2386. >Her mane and coat are white as snow, and her eyes are like fierce ice blue daggers
  2387. >They narrow as she glares down at you
  2388. >When she speaks, her voice is thick with the northern accent
  2389. >"Why have you come?"
  2390. >The mare wears a silver half-plate barding
  2391. >You realize with a sinking feeling that it bears the crest of the Asperi
  2392. "I'm here to give medicine to the foals."
  2393. >She doesn't budge. Her eyes flick over you, then flash with recognition
  2394. >"You are witch," she says. "Bound. You will leave."
  2395. >This one has a fearsome presence, but you aren't going to back down now
  2396. "The foals are sick, aren't they? They need someone to take care of them."
  2397. >"This is not concern of yours. Go. Now."
  2398. >Something in her eyes makes you uneasy
  2399. "You've seen it before, haven't you?" you ask. "The wasting illness."
  2400. >The mare hesitates, and you press on quickly
  2401. "You know what will happen, if they don't get any medicine."
  2402. >"There is no cure," the mare snaps. "Stupid bound. Anja know this from foal."
  2403. "That's where you're wrong. There is a cure."
  2404. >Anja watches you coldly as you fish through your saddlebag
  2405. >When you produce one of the glowing vials, you can't help but feel proud when you see the awe in her face
  2406. >The awe vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a grim glower
  2407. >"Is trick," she says. "You lie."
  2408. >It's only after a moment's indecision that you decide what to say next
  2409. "I'm not lying," you reply. "It's sacred water from a faraway spring. It can cure any sickness."
  2410. >You'd thought you'd need to be more convincing, but to your surprise, the mare looks taken aback by this information
  2411. >She looks between you and the vial in your hoof, then hesitates for only a moment longer before lowering the spear
  2412. >"Get in, before others see you."
  2413. >Exhaling, you trot inside
  2414. "Are you not with those men?" you ask, as she takes you into the orphanage
  2415. >She spits on the ground
  2416. >"Human trash. Asperi scum," she says. "They are nothing."
  2417. >You're finding your new friend to be a little intense
  2418. >But your attention on her melts away as you step into the orphans' sleeping quarters
  2419. >Some are on the floor, playing quietly, but most are in their beds
  2420. >You can tell from the redness of their eyes and the ragged patches in their coats that they are in the later stages of the disease
  2421. >One of the foals on the floor looks up at you as you enter
  2422. >She's bigger than before, but still recognizable
  2423. >You have only a moment to steel yourself before she slams into you, grinning toothily
  2424. >"I can't believe it, you're really back!" Hex squeaks, burying her face against you
  2425. >This time you have the composure to return her hug, gently holding her
  2426. >When she pulls away, her wide eyes are full of concern
  2427. >"Please, you have to help them, they're all sick…"
  2428. >She directs you to the cots of orphans
  2429. >Among them is her brother, Nightstone
  2430. >One of his eyes is swollen shut
  2431. >He stares listlessly at the ceiling, rasping breath escaping from his parted mouth
  2432. >Hex looks at you, her eyes full of tears
  2433. >"Is… is he gonna die?"
  2434. "He's going to be just fine."
  2435. >The other foals keep their distance as you go about your work
  2436. >None of them trust you nearly as much as the twins
  2437. >You hear them murmuring as you pull out a glowing vial and pour its contents down Nightstone's throat
  2438. >He coughs and gurgles, and then suddenly sits up
  2439. >A collective gasp goes up as the swelling in his eyes rapidly goes down, and the fur grows back in on his patchy coat
  2440. >"What happened?" he asks, his voice hoarse
  2441. >The orphans crowd around, peppering you with questions and shouting with excitement
  2442. >Anja belts out a booming command, telling them to be quiet, and instantly they shut up
  2443. >They still follow you from bed to bed, watching as you tend to the rest of the sick
  2444. >In total, 8 foals require the lunar springwater, leaving just 3 vials remaining once you've finished
  2445. >Nightstone and Hex bounce on you, overjoyed by your reunion
  2446. >"Did you fight monsters and find treasure?" Nightstone demands, already bursting with energy when moments before he had been near death
  2447. >"Can you teach us to make medicine like you do?" Hex asks shyly
  2448. >You beam with pride
  2449. >She's the first pony to ever ask for your tutelage
  2450. "Of course I can. But we have to wait and be very quiet until all those mean soldiers leave, okay?"
  2451. >The foal, now almost a filly, gives a fervent nod, smiling widely
  2452. >When you finally pull yourself away for a moment, Anja takes you aside
  2453. >She'd been watching you intensely from the doorway as you'd administered the springwater
  2454. >Now she leans in the doorway, eyeing you with something a little closer to respect
  2455. >"You did miracle, witch."
  2456. >You look her over
  2457. "Are you a believer too?"
  2458. >"Was not," she says. "Maybe now, I am."
  2459. >You hesitate for a moment
  2460. "If you aren't with the humans or the Asperi, who ARE you with?"
  2461. >"I am sworn to Hunter Killer. He is my Captain."
  2462. >"Ordered me: stay here. Wait. This was over month ago. I wait."
  2463. >You feel a twinge of guilt
  2464. >You have no idea what happened to that stallion, and she doesn't, either
  2465. >Grandmother's curse comes to mind
  2466. >"I smell a bad future for that one," she'd said, laughing in her unpleasant way
  2467. "Look, I have to go," you say. "I need to meet my friend…"
  2468. >"I will stay. Guard foals."
  2469. >You move to the door, but stop with your hoof on the handle
  2470. "Thank you for trusting me, Anja."
  2471. >"Was no trust," the mare replies flatly. "If you lied, I kill you."
  2472. >Anja glad I didn't?
  2473. >You almost make the joke, then think better of it.
  2474. "Hope to see you again."
  2475. >You slip out the door and into the shadows of the Stronghold
  2476. >Heading to to the hidden orchard to meet Anon
  2477. >Praying that he'll be there waiting for you
  2478. >The glow of fire flickers on the rocky ceiling
  2479. >You have no idea what you're going to do about the occupying soldiers
  2480. >You've saved the foals from illness, but can you save them from the Asperi?
  2481.  
  2482.  
  2483. Part 16
  2484.  
  2485.  
  2486. >Pain
  2487. >Blinding pain
  2488. >"It really is an art, you know."
  2489. >You are Anon, and a knife is digging into your eye socket
  2490. >You feel the blade rub the underside of your eyeball as Cutter pulls it out
  2491. >"I sometimes feel that… I am alone amongst my colleagues," he's saying. "They don't take it as seriously as I."
  2492. >His breath is rank as he leans in close to inspect the incision
  2493. >"They do what they're told. Content to remove the wings, make cuts here and there.
  2494. >"But that is all they do - they cut. They'd sooner scar an eye than rip it out."
  2495. >He hums to himself as he begins rummaging through his lacquered box of tools
  2496. >The same one you'd seen him use all those years ago, in the foothills of the Crystal Mountains
  2497. >Blearily, you look around at your surroundings
  2498. >Still in the central plaza, perhaps 60 feet distant from the great bonfire
  2499. >You don't remember the melee, other than the fact that you killed a man
  2500. >He didn't even say a word when you impaled him
  2501. >Just grunted, and fell, taking your sword with him
  2502. >After that, you were surrounded
  2503. >Someone must've clubbed you on the head
  2504. >And now here you were, bound to a stone as Cutter enjoyed his teatime
  2505. >"An artist must constantly improve himself, dear Boy." Your captor has turned back to face you
  2506. >He holds a small clay tea kettle in his hand
  2507. >"Anyone can inflict pain, but it requires technique to make it last," he says.
  2508. >"Slit a few nostrils and a group of foals will grow up absolutely hideous. As if they weren't ugly enough already."
  2509. >You struggle against your bonds, but he simply grabs your face and holds it still
  2510. >A hiss of agony escapes you as with his thumb he peels open the cut he just made
  2511. >"The Asperi don't mind," Cutter says. "In fact, I think they enjoy my work."
  2512. >He holds up the tea kettle
  2513. >"They want the subservient to remember their place, after all," he continues. "Forever, and ever."
  2514. >The spout tips forward
  2515. >You scream, nearly blacking out from the pain
  2516. >Steam rises from your flesh as your eye boils in your skull
  2517. >Cutter pats your cheek. "Stay awake, now. It would be very rude of you to pass out."
  2518. >In lieu of vomiting, you spit on him
  2519. >The pat on your cheek turns to a slap
  2520. >"Have you forgotten who your betters are?"
  2521. "Why," you pant, "are you here?"
  2522. >"I could ask the same of you, brat."
  2523. >Cutter once again turns away. "You should be concerned less with the business of the Asperi, and more with the business between you and I."
  2524. >He's no longer humming as he begins examining his knives
  2525. >"He was a great man, you know," he says distantly. "The greatest of our time. Do you even remember?"
  2526. >Father; he's speaking of Father
  2527. >Great and shaggy-haired, with grinning white teeth, burning eyes, and iron fingers to hold the black blade
  2528. >The black blade that now watches in silent vigil from its place thrust in the dirt nearby
  2529. "He was a monster," you say. "A killer, who murdered out of nothing more than bloodlust."
  2530. >"What do you think we are?" Cutter asks. "A sword was put in your hand the moment you crawled out of the whore that sired you. Killing is in your blood."
  2531. >He turns, and you see his face now, red and terrible
  2532. >"You call him monster. You are not fit even to call him father. How is it that he, a great warrior, slayer of a thousand men, was killed by a petulant child?"
  2533. >Cutter is visibly shaking as he continues
  2534. >"Because he loved you. His son. His own son, running him through with the blade he used as a boy. He gave that sword to you as a gift, Boy. A gift."
  2535. >The man trails off, before letting out a strange, disturbing giggle
  2536. >From behind him he draws a familiar weapon. His bony fingers dance across the metal
  2537. >It catches the flickering red light of the bonfire as he holds it up
  2538. >Your old sword
  2539. >You'd dropped it when you ran
  2540. >"I once hated this thing," he said. "But now it presents such lovely irony, don't you agree? Well. You will when I cut off your arm."
  2541. >He falls silent, staring at you with unconcealed anticipation
  2542. >You feel a horrible fear, but you lock eyes with him
  2543. "I killed him," you say. "And if I could, I'd kill him a hundred times more, right in front of you."
  2544. >For a moment he simply stands there
  2545. >Then he is on you, the blade pressed to your throat, drawing a thin line of blood
  2546. >His black eyes bore into you, as empty as the abyss
  2547. >Immediately he backs off
  2548. >"No," he says, looking away, then stamping his feet. "No, no, no, no! No! You are not going to ruin this for me. I've waited too long for this moment.
  2549. >"I've seen it in my dreams, in the pale red glow of the bloodmoon. I knew that if I was patient, if I was good, I would be rewarded. And now here you are. You will watch me flay off your skin and I will make you eat it."
  2550. >Before he can make good on his threat, one of his men shuffles into view from an alley
  2551. >"Captain," he calls. "You have a visitor. One of ours."
  2552. >Cutter's teeth are chattering, his hands twitching at his sides
  2553. >To your surprise and revulsion, you watch as he opens his mouth wide, the joints of his jaw cracking
  2554. >When he closes his mouth, his breathing has turned to normal
  2555. >He turns gracefully on his heel, his mantle twirling
  2556. >"Very well," he says. "Send him in."
  2557. >"He wishes to meet you on the main street, Captain."
  2558. >Cutter's shoulders jerk in an obvious tic
  2559. >"Fine," he says, after a moment's hesitation. "Watch over the prisoner. If he tries to escape, do not kill him. If you do, I will cut off your limbs and turn you into a puppet."
  2560. >"Aye, Captain."
  2561. >Without even so much as a glance back at you, Cutter marches off, leaving you
  2562. >If there was one thing you could commend Father for, it was his dogged adherence to the old ways
  2563. >The old traditions
  2564. >One of which involved being a good host to your comrades, no matter the circumstances
  2565. >As you sit there, blind in one eye, it all seems so strange and disconnected
  2566. >Your childhood, your time spent alone, wandering from land to land
  2567. >These past weeks, going into a wilderness you never even knew existed
  2568. >Meeting Moss Moon, a bat pony, of all creatures
  2569. >Talking with her, becoming her friend,
  2570. >Holding her; kissing her
  2571. >It seems so much like a dream
  2572. >You hope she gets out of here; that she and the foals escape and go to the Hollow Shades and live happy lives
  2573. >They don't deserve this
  2574. >No pony deserved a life like this, under the thumb of the Asperi and people like Cutter
  2575. >People like Father
  2576. >The black sword juts out of the dirt, watching you
  2577. >Just seeing it again - that horrible weapon - is enough to fill you with dread
  2578. >You look away, thinking of Moss Moon
  2579. >You can even see her now, her dull golden eyes, watching you from the dark
  2580. >A smile comes to your face, the illusion soothing you, even as it vanishes
  2581. >Something clatters nearby
  2582. >The guard calls out: "Who's there?"
  2583. >A short, tubby, graybearded man, he warily enters the plaza, hand on his sword hilt
  2584. >He wanders past an alleyway, and doesn't even see the glint of the spearhead as it thrusts into the back of his neck
  2585. >Doesn't even see it as he dies
  2586. >It protrudes from his throat, and he lets out a wet gurgle before collapsing
  2587. >His eyes bulge in a way that is almost disturbingly amusing
  2588. >It makes you sick
  2589. >You feel something soft brushing your cheek
  2590. >"Anon, look at me…"
  2591. >As your good eye focuses, you realize that you must've finally fainted from the pain
  2592. >You become aware of Moss Moon standing next to you, her warm breath on your face
  2593. >She's already cut you free of your bindings
  2594. >"Can you walk?" she whispers, her voice firm but full of fear
  2595. >She is shaking
  2596. >You have to focus
  2597. >Her presence gives you clarity
  2598. "No," you say, swallowing. "No, he cut the tendons in my legs."
  2599. >Awkwardly you lift a leg to show her, but she's already rummaging through her bag
  2600. >"Here," she says, pressing a vial of glowing spring water against your lips. "Drink."
  2601. >As you oblige her, she stammers on
  2602. >"I waited but you didn't show, so I came to find you, I found - I found a place, a building, they're holding everypony there, everyone in town, we have to get them out -" She chokes suddenly. "Goddess, I killed him. Anon, I killed him - "
  2603. >You glance down at the dead man, the spear point sticking out of his neck
  2604. >Already you feel the power of the lunar water coursing through your veins
  2605. >You feel jittery, your breathing rapid and hot
  2606. >Boundless energy surges through your body
  2607. >You stand, blinking your restored eye, and reach out to hold her, just for a moment
  2608. >She shivers against you, but then she is pulling you onward, toward the alley
  2609. >You stop for just a moment to pull the sword from the guard's scabbard, before disappearing into the shadows with Moss Moon, leaving the bonfire behind
  2610. >Overhead, red and purple light shines through the cracks in the Stronghold's ceiling of rock
  2611. >The sun is setting
  2612. >And this night is only just beginning
  2613.  
  2614.  
  2615. Part 17
  2616.  
  2617.  
  2618. >You are Moss Moon, and you feel strangely calm
  2619. >In the shadow of an alley, you hide
  2620. >Ahead, rounded up into a stone storehouse, are the rest of the Stronghold’s bat ponies
  2621. >You can see them peeking out through barred windows, the expressions on their faces dull and distant
  2622. >Surrounding the building are a dozen human guards in various states of repose
  2623. >Four are standing at casual attention, occasionally glancing at the prison while they chat with the others
  2624. >The rest busy themselves with drinking and playing with dice cut from gemstones
  2625. >They must be garrisoned here, to prevent any chance of escape
  2626. >At your side stands Anon, tall and silent
  2627. >It still shocks you to see the effect of the lunar water
  2628. >Just a few minutes ago he was lame and half-blind, unable to even stand
  2629. >Yet now here he is, brimming with unnatural energy, his hand closed around the grip of the dead guard’s longsword
  2630. >The guard you killed
  2631. >He was a bad man, an evil man, he deserved to die –
  2632. >You shake your head, your mane falling into your eyes, forcing yourself to focus
  2633. >“Do you think we can get them out?” you ask. “They’re safe in there… for now.”
  2634. >“Maybe. We’d need a distraction,” Anon replies. “But once they’re out, what will we do with them? Will they fight?”
  2635. >You look over the dim shapes of the bat ponies visible through the storehouse windows
  2636. >“I…”
  2637. >Their faces are barely visible
  2638. >Faces that once grimaced at you, mouths that spit at you
  2639. >The faces of bat ponies who hated you and what you represented
  2640. >All those memories come rushing over you
  2641. >You swallow them back
  2642. >“I don’t know.”
  2643. >“We don’t have a lot of time,” Anon says. “Cutter will go into a frenzy when he finds out I’m gone.”
  2644. >“Then we need to do something before he brings the whole guard to bear on us.”
  2645. >Anon glances down at you
  2646. >“How was the orphanage guarded?”
  2647. >“There was only one sentry, a bat pony. One of Hunter Killer’s. Cutter relieved her of command when he moved in.”
  2648. >Upon hearing this, Anon seems to meditate for a moment. Then:
  2649. >“We could take the foals and run,” he says. He gestures with his head toward the storehouse. “I don’t know if this a fight we can win.”
  2650. >You swallow, hard
  2651. >The thought had already occurred to you, and it was sobering to hear it echoed by Anon
  2652. >In there were all the merchants who refused your business, all the ponies who blocked your path and beat you
  2653. >All those who would’ve happily let you freeze or starve, just so they didn’t have to look at you
  2654. >The ones who didn’t even notice when you vanished for weeks on end to bring back medicine
  2655. >And yet…
  2656. >In there too were the old and the weak, the lonely, the poor and the pariahs who turned even to you for care when they were hurt or sick
  2657. >In there was the old shopkeeper who sold you supplies; at exorbitant prices, and with disgust, but he sold them nonetheless
  2658. >And the tavern master, perhaps the only one to ever look at you with anything resembling kindness, who silently took your orders for exotic ingredients from distant lands
  2659. >“No,” you say, shaking your head again. “We can do it. We can get them out.”
  2660. >When you look back up at Anon, you see the conviction glowing in his eyes. He nods.
  2661. >“I trust you, Moss Moon,” he says. “Let’s do it.”
  2662. >“All right.” You put down your remaining saddlebag, and begin to rummage through the very last of your supplies. “You may remember… a certain phenomenon –”
  2663.  
  2664. - - -
  2665.  
  2666. >You are Hunter Killer, and you feel a terrible unease
  2667. >It’s been hard enough keeping one’s composure in the wilderness, let alone doing so outside a fortress occupied by filthy humans
  2668. >The gate guard, a surly gentleman with a mace at his hip, glowers down at you and your two-bat retinue of Holtz and Niebler
  2669. >“Captain’s busy,” the human grunts, fingering the blade of grass between his lips before turning his head to spit
  2670. >You sigh, making a show of regal exasperation
  2671. >“Do you hear that, Holtz?” you ask, not even turning to face your companions. “It appears that our journey is for naught. We’ll just have to march back to Armsdam and inform the Prince that Captain Cutter is simply too busy to meet with his superiors.”
  2672. >“Aye, it’s a shame,” says Holtz.
  2673. >“Bloody shame,” says Niebler.
  2674. >The man slowly chews his blade of grass
  2675. >Though he makes an effort not to show it, you can see in his beady little eyes that he is discomfited by the mention of an Asperi warlord
  2676. >“Come in,” he says finally, after a moment’s hesitation
  2677. >As you stroll into the Stronghold, your refined nose is immediately assailed by the stench of offal and burning garbage
  2678. >The red glow of a great fire flickers from the center of the sprawling complex, casting sickly light on the squat stone buildings these peasants call home
  2679. >Your trained gaze scans the windows, looking for signs of life; there are none
  2680. >You would guess that all the town’s inhabitants have been rounded up into a central location, as is protocol
  2681. >The fact that you are here now is evidence enough that the Asperi have plans for this place, but the nature of those plans remains to be seen
  2682. >Ostensibly, your own mission was to make a survey of the outlands, then report back to Armsdam via messenger
  2683. >Of course, you accepted the assignment as a pretense; you had your own plans for the Stronghold
  2684. >The fabled “Moon Water” had been a wash… no pun intended
  2685. >Just a fairy tale in an old book, it seemed
  2686. >Regardless, your expedition had not been a complete waste
  2687. >Far from it
  2688. >In fact, there was still a great deal left to be done
  2689. >But first, you had to talk to your psychotic subordinate and his dozens of guards, hundreds of miles away from the Asperi and the authority they grant you
  2690. >Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?
  2691. >You sigh
  2692. >The guard whistles to another human skulking in the shadows, and gestures for him to run to the center of the Stronghold. “Get the Captain,” he says, in his ugly human tongue
  2693. >You are quite well-versed in the language, having studied it at university
  2694. >It had been the giggling of the school’s linguists that had prompted your interest
  2695. >The horror had been overwhelming when you discovered the true meaning of the word plastered on your flank
  2696. >Why fate thought it fitting to give you such a cutie mark, you have no idea
  2697. >It had come rather late in your young life, appearing one afternoon after you’d screamed your lungs out at the other junior cadets, until finally they were lined up to your satisfaction
  2698. >Your unit went on to win that year’s greatest honor, the Prince’s own commendation, for its rigid discipline and impeccable appearance
  2699. >One of your greatest achievements, and one graced by the appearance of the mark that was now a source of such embarrassment
  2700. >At the time, you’d recognized it as a human word, but had not known it’s meaning; to you it symbolized strength and leadership
  2701. >It was only later, after poring with gusto through one of the university library’s illuminated books on the subject, that you learned what “anal” actually meant
  2702. >The revelation had been enough to almost send you spiraling into despair
  2703. >Yet you’d recovered, as you always do, knowing that you are no mere pawn of fate
  2704. >Through your smarts and skill, you’d clawed your way up from your pathetic peasant upbringings to the highest echelons of Asperi society
  2705. >You fraternized with royalty, even spoke with the Prince himself on occasion
  2706. >You'd suffered his poisoned words, his foul gaze
  2707. >You’d seen every awful aspect of him and then some
  2708. >Truly, you had come to hate the bastard
  2709. >Even more than you did when you were a foal, and his army had burned your village to the ground
  2710. >Just as your cutie mark was source of both strength and shame, your presence in the Asperi’s good graces was a double-edged sword in your consciousness
  2711. >They had recognize your capacity for greatness, taking you in to the School for the Gifted, putting you on the officer’s path
  2712. >So that you could subjugate your fellow bat ponies, and perpetuate the Asperi rule
  2713. >They taught you math and science, elevated your intellect beyond a level you never would’ve known grubbing in the dirt in your long-gone home
  2714. >And yet you hated them – you hated the Asperi with all your being
  2715. >You rejected the name they gave you, taking the appellate of Hunter Killer in its stead, much to the grumbling of the royals
  2716. >Save one
  2717. >It was She who encouraged you… She who dismissed their outrage and talked them into ignoring it
  2718. >She who helped you become who you are now
  2719. >But you do not want to think of Her now.
  2720. >Especially not now.
  2721. >Cutter is approaching, walking up the main road to face you.
  2722. >“Hunter Killer,” the man says curtly, one hand behind his back. “We had not heard from you in so long, we were beginning to grow worried.”
  2723. >“The frontier is a wild and tedious place,” you say. “It takes time to see it all. Are you not bored, being here?”
  2724. >Flanked by two guardsmen, Cutter is an imposing figure. He plays with the handle of one of his many knives
  2725. >“From what I understand,” he says, in his soft, unctuous voice, “you were to send a messenger northward after a week’s time. You did not. There was, of course, fear back in the capital, that something dreadful had happened to you.” Cutter spreads his hands. “But we see now that you are quite well.”
  2726. >“Indeed. Will you be going, then?”
  2727. >Cutter laughs, a horrible wracking sound. “Boredom may be what you feel, Captain, but I feel a sense of – wonder, in this place. I love the country. It teems with lives for the taking.”
  2728. >You keep your face impassive, despite the disgust you feel
  2729. >Glancing up at the surrounding buildings, you finally see what you were hoping to see, something that fills you with unshakeable confidence
  2730. >The face of a bat pony, peeking out through one of the windows
  2731. >For just a moment, you make eye contact – and then he is gone, ducking out of sight
  2732. >“What is your mission here, Cutter?” you ask. “I know that you have a mind for the poetic, so I would ask that you keep your answer as direct as possible.”
  2733. >A raspy sigh escapes Cutter’s lips, and he runs a hand through his greasy hair. “I am here,” he says, smirking, “to relieve you; you and your unit are to return to Armsdam and report for reassignment.”
  2734. >“Where is your unit, by the way?” Cutter continues, making an exaggerated show of craning his head to look past Holtz and Niebler. “There was only your whore guarding this place when we arrived.”
  2735. >You let a small smile crease your face
  2736. >That was what you were hoping to hear
  2737. >“You know, Cutter, I lied,” you say. “You don’t have a mind for the poetic. Frankly, I doubt you have a mind at all.”
  2738. >The man immediately stiffens, his black eyes widening. “What did you say?”
  2739. >You laugh inwardly, letting his anger spur you on
  2740. >Oh, how you hated humans; almost as much as you hated the Asperi
  2741. >If you have your way – and you will – you will see them purged from the lands of the bat ponies, never to insult your eyes with their presence again
  2742. >“Was it not clear?” you say. “You’re an idiot, Cutter. And no one will miss you after I’ve put you in the ground.” You grin. “You love the country? Too bad, because it’s mine. This is where we will stage our revolution, and your blood will seep beneath the stones of its foundation.”
  2743. >You’d practiced that line a great deal in your mind; sadly, it didn’t have quite the punch you were hoping for
  2744. >But this was hardly the time to care about such things
  2745. >Quivering with elation, knowing that after all these months your plan was finally coming to fruition, you took the final leap
  2746. >Baring your fangs, you stomp the ground with your hooves, and let out a bloodcurdling SKREEEEEEEECH
  2747. >The signal
  2748. >As Cutter sputters, reaching for his weapons, you step back with Holtz and Niebler, awaiting the appearance of the rest of your squad
  2749. >You had left them here for just such a contingency, telling them to infiltrate this place and hide until your return
  2750. >Now in all their glory they would emerge, armed to the fangs, ready to set off whatever traps they’d laid in your absence
  2751. >You look to the rooftops, expecting to see their shadows clamoring out
  2752. >And
  2753. >There is only Murphy
  2754. >Just Murphy, standing up there, nervously holding a bow
  2755. >“Where the hell is everyone?” you scream, gritting your teeth
  2756. >“They, uh, they went out to look for you,” Murphy calls down. “When you didn’t come back.”
  2757. >All those feelings of triumph evaporate in an instant, to be replaced by white-hot fury
  2758. >But before you can lambaste Murphy, Holtz, and Niebler for their vicarious idiocy, you see Cutter drawing one of his long knives
  2759. >His two friends react similarly, one pulling a spear, the other drawing a vicious dagger
  2760. >Cutter’s black eyes are burning. “Looks like we’re all idiots today, Captain,” he says. “But we’re all gentlemen here. Perhaps we should discuss this development over tea.”
  2761. >You ready your own spear, alongside Holtz and Niebler, preparing to square off with the human menace
  2762. >But thoughts of battle are soon all but obliterated
  2763. >There is a flash of white light, and the rumbling of earth
  2764. >A tremendous chrysanthemum of flame rises from the western side of the Stronghold, an explosion of godly proportions
  2765. >And then all descends into chaos
  2766.  
  2767.  
  2768. Part 18
  2769.  
  2770.  
  2771. >You are Anon, a human warrior
  2772. >And the world has gone strange to you
  2773. >Thick smoke writhes all around, plumes like tortured spirits
  2774. >In it you can sense – not see – the forms of men
  2775. >Those soldiers that survived the sunroot explosion
  2776. >This sense – this perception of shadow – is new to you, like a shade over your eyes, your mind
  2777. >It had come on suddenly, moments before Moss Moon had sprung her plan into action
  2778. >The water your companion gave you had awoken something within
  2779. >A presence you have not fully felt since your submersion in the Spring, when you were at Death’s door... and then sank into her parlor
  2780. >“...and you will kill those enemies...”
  2781. >Your skull throbs
  2782. >“...until they have been stricken from the earth...”
  2783. >You stagger into the smoke
  2784. >“...and my children are safe again.”
  2785. >You’re not sure where Moss Moon is
  2786. >She snuck over to the opposite side of the structure before setting off her concoction
  2787. >The sense of shadow doesn’t give you an idea of her position
  2788. >It does, however, reveal the location of a stunned soldier as he wanders blindly toward you
  2789. >Around his form you can detect the fringes of something dark and translucent, a shaded mantle that clings to his body
  2790. >“I gave you the power of the dreaming,” growls the voice in your soul. “You would do well to make use of it.”
  2791. >You struggle to shake it off, to force her out, as you draw your weapon
  2792. >The dead man’s longsword is of fine quality, better even than your old blade
  2793. >With ease you dispatch the soldier, gaining only a glimpse of his tangible form through the thick smoke
  2794. >A gout of blood paints the rocky earth, and the man falls dead at your feet with barely a cry
  2795. >The cacophony is deafening; the yelling of the other men, and the screeching of the trapped bat ponies in the warehouse
  2796. >The shadow sense gives you no image of the bats, but you can hear them well enough
  2797. >What you can see is another guard nearby; swiftly you stride toward him
  2798. >This man seems more aware than the previous, and whirls wildly to face you, but he fares little better
  2799. >Unable to see your sword, the soldier fails to parry once, then again as your weapon slashes his thigh
  2800. >He collapses, just as you become aware of two other soldiers fleeing into a side street, before they vanish completely from your perception
  2801. >“Anon!”
  2802. >A welcome voice
  2803. >Behind you, the smoke is thinner; turning your head, you can just make out the small gray form of Moss Moon
  2804. >She’s breathing heavily, her mane in disarray
  2805. >“I wasn’t able to get them all,” she pants, “We have to take out the others –”
  2806. >“They’ve already gone,” you say, your voice sounding abnormally strained
  2807. >When you indicate the direction where the two survivors fled, Moss Moon curses
  2808. >“The orphanage is that way,” she says, “Anon, I – ”
  2809. >“Get going,” you grunt. “I’ll finish up here.”
  2810. >A long moment stretches between you
  2811. >Perhaps it is the strange new sense, or perhaps it is merely your own cognizance, but you detect something in her golden eyes as she looks up at you through the drifting smoke
  2812. >The beauty of her spirit, shining onto you
  2813. >“You better be careful,” she says. “Who will I share mangoes with, if you go and die?”
  2814. >“After this, I’ll take you to Sun-Ne’er-Set,” you reply, “and we’ll share a hundred mangoes, if that’s what you’d like.”
  2815. >At first she simply smiles, the scar across her eye moving with her skin
  2816. >Then she embraces you, a flash in which her forelimbs wrap around you, and her heart beats with yours
  2817.  
  2818.  
  2819. [“Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully, after breaking away. “We’ll see each other again.”]
  2820.  
  2821.  
  2822. >The exchange takes only a few seconds, but to you it feels much longer
  2823. >She relinquishes her hold, and with one last look back, she runs off into the side streets and disappears
  2824. >You feel a lump in your throat, once she has gone
  2825. >Returning to the corpse of one of the men you killed, you kneel down to search him for a key, but find nothing
  2826. >Bat ponies are pounding on the door to the warehouse, screeching for release
  2827. >With the pommel of your sword you smash the lock, striking it repeatedly until the metal has deformed enough to open
  2828. >The door swings ajar
  2829. >The bat ponies, at first seemingly eager to escape, now hold back in fear, fixated on your terrible silhouette standing in the doorway
  2830. >“You are free,” you declare. “I am not here to hurt you.”
  2831. >No response is forthcoming, until finally an older bat stammers out: “What have you done?”
  2832. >You stare down at him, unsure of how to respond
  2833. >“Calamity will come here now,” he continues, “reprisals. The Asperi will bring down their wrath a hundredfold upon us, for what you have done –”
  2834. >Several of the ponies burst into tears, and begin to wail, as the elder mutters on
  2835. >Where you had expected gratitude and goodwill, instead you are greeted only by despair
  2836. >“My children have been robbed of their courage, and their hope,” hisses the dark voice within you. “I will see those responsible burned to ashes, no matter the cost.”
  2837. >As if linked to her emotions, you can feel an insatiable bloodlust rising, making your skin itch
  2838. >And perhaps you will have the chance to slake your shared thirst
  2839. >For in that moment, you become aware of six men rapidly approaching, their shadows stretching toward the warehouse
  2840. >Alone, you step from the doorway, and prepare to meet them
  2841.  
  2842. >You are Anja, bat pony warrior of the north
  2843. >And you feel a fight coming on
  2844. >With cold eyes you had watched the explosion from the orphanage window, the rising burst of flame as red as the mushrooms you once picked in the forests around your village
  2845. >This was magic, you knew; dark magic, that only a witch could command
  2846. >All the orphans were screaming around you
  2847. > “Foals, quiet,” you had ordered, as you’d snatched up your spear. “Hide in room, make no sound.”
  2848. >You weren’t sure what was going to happen next
  2849. >Cutter had ordered you to “watch” the foals, but you knew that this was merely a pretense to separate you from the Stronghold’s more able-bodied civilians
  2850. >Not that it would’ve mattered; the ponies here are not fighters
  2851. >You knew his reputation, and what he would do at the slightest provocation
  2852. >If battle had come to the Stronghold, then he would be certain to exercise his cruelty on every stallion, mare, and foal he could
  2853. >No matter what, you had already resolved to defend these orphans to the death
  2854. >While you were still alive, you would not let that butcher or his men harm them
  2855. >As usual, your instincts prove accurate
  2856. >Watching covertly from the window, hiding just out of sight, you see two soldiers sneaking down the street, their weapons drawn
  2857. >“It has to be done, ol’ top,” says the fatter, balder of the two. “You’ll thank me later.”
  2858. >His companion is barrel-shaped, with a slack face. He wields a broadsword. “It just don’t feel right,” he replies, scratching his head.
  2859. >“Ain’t nothing right or wrong about it. Pep up, it’ll be easy. Like drowning kittens.”
  2860. >The trampled garden in front of the orphanage is wide open; there is nowhere to hide
  2861. >Your only opportunity for a sneak attack would be to let them blunder inside, but you do not want them to enter the building
  2862. >Instead, you decide to face them head on
  2863. >They look fat, and weak; if you’re lucky, you can intimidate them into a retreat
  2864. >Both men jolt backwards when you slam the door open and trot outside
  2865. >“By the Prince’s frozen balls!” exclaims the bald one. “Don’t you got any manners? You gave me a damn fright.”
  2866. >You level your spear. “That is not all I am giving,” you say. “Leave. Now.”
  2867. >The man is taken aback. “Apologies if I’m mistaken, but ain’t we on the same side here?”
  2868. >“No more. This day, you will hurt no foals.”
  2869. >At first, the bald fellow simply glares at you, but then his face twists into an obsequious smile
  2870. >“Now, now, there’s no reason to get all bent out of shape about nothing–”
  2871. >“She knows,” interrupts his slack-faced companion. “She knows and she ain’t gonna let us in. Let’s just get out of this damn hellhole, they ain’t gonna come looking for us –”
  2872. >He is silenced by a slap to the back of the head
  2873. >“Shut the hell up, ol’ top,” the bald man growls. “You got to calm down and think rational about this. Cutter loves skinning things alive, and who d’you think he’ll be cutting into when he finds out we ran away and let all his prisoners escape?”
  2874. >The man continues speaking, gesturing toward the orphanage. “We can still make sure these runts don’t get away. Slicing them up is our best ticket to staying alive, you understand me? Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little pony. If you wanna drown some kittens, sometimes you gotta kill the cat first!”
  2875. >You know you should feel anger, or fear, or even anticipation of combat, but instead you feel only cold
  2876. >You’d seen these men before; not their faces, not them, but their fear, their desperation
  2877. >Dozens of times, you’d seen it, cowardly men willing to do anything to save themselves, when suddenly they find themselves completely and utterly alone
  2878. >Men pushed so close to the edge that they can see nothing but the precipice
  2879. >And many times, you have been the one to give them that final push
  2880. >Enough, in fact, to know how quickly they will abandon their imaginary brotherhoods to sacrifice their friends in the name of survival
  2881. >Which is why you make your first threatening jab at the slack-faced man
  2882. >His paper-thin loyalty shreds in an instant, punctured by the shining point of your spear
  2883. >With a yelp, he turns and runs, leaving his balding companion to fend for himself
  2884. >“I’ll kill you, ol’ top!” the man screams after him. “You’re a dead man!”
  2885. >Despite his rage, the soldier readies himself for single combat, drawing a wicked curved blade
  2886. >Wordlessly you circle him, keeping him at a distance
  2887. >“It ain’t gonna take long,” he taunts, stepping with you, switching stances to match the position of your spear. “Step aside and I’ll even tell ol’ Cap’n Cutter that you helped me.”
  2888. >You smirk
  2889. >“In hell,” you say, “you are telling him hello.”
  2890. >With a single beat of your wings, you launch yourself into the air
  2891. >The man’s look of confidence melts immediately into one of resignation
  2892. >“Shit. Forgot you could fly.”
  2893. >With grim concentration he attempts to beat away your jabbing spear strokes
  2894. >Though he protects his head, he leaves his shoulder open; you pierce it with icy precision
  2895. >The man lets out a cry of pain, and immediately drops his weapon
  2896. >“You got me! I yield!” he says, lifting his hands. “I ain’t gonna do it, all right? Let me go, I’m just gonna walk away – ”
  2897. >Even now, he cannot accept the end
  2898. >You finish him off without hesitation, and leave his lifeless body on the ground
  2899. >Hoping to do the same to his fleeing comrade, you fly down the alley into which the man absconded
  2900. >Instead, what you find surprises you
  2901. >A broadsword laying on the ground, and beside it the man’s corpse, his slack-jawed face bashed in
  2902. >Over him stands the bound witch, staring wide-eyed at the body
  2903. >She notices you hovering above her, but does not jump in fear; rather, she simply stares at you, breathing hard
  2904. >You’ve seen that face before as well
  2905. >The face of someone new to killing, someone who hardly understands the feeling of taking a life
  2906. >“You are powerful witch,” you say. “What is it you have done?”
  2907. >“The orphans... are they...?”
  2908. >“Safe. Now tell. What was fire?”
  2909. >“It was a mixture, some kind of alchemy. I don’t – don’t understand it completely –”
  2910. >“For what you used it?”
  2911. >“We – Anon and I, we set them free,” she says, fumbling. “We used it to free the townsfolk.”
  2912. >“Anon your friend?”
  2913. >“Yes, but –”
  2914. >“Important to you, yes?”
  2915. >“Yes –”
  2916. >“Then why you here? Anja tell you, Anja guard foals! Go back! Your friend in danger, stupid bound!”
  2917. >You are surprised when the witch grits her teeth, and your blood runs even colder when she speaks
  2918. >“I came for the orphans,” she says, “but on the way, I saw him fighting. He fights alone on the high road, against Cutter and his men. Your captain, Hunter Killer. He’s the one in danger.”
  2919. >For the first time that day, you feel fear, your limbs suddenly paralyzed
  2920. >“Why are you still here?” the witch barks. “Go!”
  2921. >Your heart races, and your grip tightens on your spear
  2922. >Without another look at her, you beat your powerful wings, and soar above the village, spiraling in search of the one you love
  2923.  
  2924.  
  2925. Part 19
  2926.  
  2927.  
  2928. >You are Moss Moon, and you are alone
  2929. >You watch as Anja spirals upward, her snowy body wreathed in smoke
  2930. >Her wings are strangely beautiful as they catch the firelight
  2931. >Your heart is still in your throat by the time she vanishes
  2932. >“Your friend in danger,” she’d said, in her thick Northern accent. “Go back!”
  2933. >Every fiber of your being pushes you toward that impulse
  2934. >You want to find him, help him, protect him
  2935. >But you know that your responsibility lies here
  2936. >You have to get these foals out of the Stronghold, take them to Hollow Shades if you must
  2937. >Anon can take care of himself
  2938. >That is what you tell yourself, when you turn away from the road and walk back into the orphanage
  2939. >You feel sick to your stomach, but the pain is alleviated somewhat when you see that Hex, Nightstone, and the others are safe and sound
  2940. >In your mind, though, you can still see the face of the man you killed
  2941. >The single yelp he’d made when you’d struck him
  2942. >The simple, almost perfunctory way he’d fallen to the ground
  2943. >His death had come so effortlessly, so quickly
  2944. >You had never realized how easy it was to take a life
  2945. >Just standing there, holding that stone over his corpse, had been enough to paralyze you for who knows how long
  2946. >You had lost all conception of time, until Anja had appeared and asked you about the explosion
  2947. >It was true, what you’d told her; you did not understand why the concoction of sunroot resin and lunar spring water was so volatile
  2948. >Certainly it must be some property of the goddess, some investment of her power that made the substance so explosive
  2949. >But you had never come upon any reference to such a substance, not in any of Grandmother’s old texts
  2950. >It is a mystery that you probably will never solve
  2951. >“Moss Moon, what’re we gonna do?”
  2952. >You look down into the wide eyes of Hex, her brother Nightstone right beside her
  2953. >You can feel the foals trembling as they cling to you
  2954. >They’ve gotten bigger in your absence, but they are still only children
  2955. “Okay everypony,” you say, in the brightest voice you can muster. “We’re all going on a little trip. There are going to be some rules, so listen carefully, okay?”
  2956. >There is silence as you go on
  2957. >Some of the orphans have crowded around you, while others remain apart; detached, or sullen
  2958. >This is not the first time they have had to run
  2959. “The first rule is that everypony needs to be very quiet. If you can be quieter than I am, you’ll get a prize once we get where we’re going.”
  2960. >“What kind of prize –” Nightstone asks, before Hex shushes him
  2961. “The second rule is that you have to stay close to me. No wandering off on your own. If you wander off, you could get lost, and then I’d have to come find you.”
  2962. >They nod along, wide-eyed
  2963. “The third rule is that everypony needs to have a buddy. Stick close to your buddy, make sure your buddy follows me and stays quiet, and most importantly – if you don’t know where your buddy is, tell me right away!”
  2964. >You quickly help them pair off, and then scour the orphanage for supplies
  2965. >Some food is available - with some pride you recognize some dried melon from one of the hidden orchards around the Stronghold
  2966. >Blankets make for makeshift satchels, which the bigger foals carry in their mouths
  2967. >You direct them all to the back window, and one by one they fly through
  2968. >It will be safer to hug the outskirts of the Stronghold, rather than going through the streets
  2969. >Once all the orphans have gotten out, you climb through after them, your hooves alighting softly on the rocky ground
  2970. >You take a moment to get your bearings, mapping out the best route in your head
  2971. >There’s a small orchard just a short distance from here, with a hole to the outside
  2972. >You can’t reach it, but the foals could fly up and get out that way
  2973. >It will be easier to get them out through there, instead of trying to sneak them out one of the main exits
  2974. >Once they’re through, you can find a way out on your own
  2975. “All right, let’s get going,” you say. “Remember everypony, be very quiet!”
  2976. >Obediently the foals keep their mouths shut, following suit as you steal through the shadows
  2977. >Their eyes dart fearfully toward the rising smoke and the distant glow of the great fire, but they say nothing
  2978. >You keep low, hugging the many rock formations that jut out of the ground
  2979. >Praying that no human – or pony – will see you
  2980. >Even though you’d forged some kind of battlefield kinship with Anja, you still do not trust Hunter Killer and his band
  2981. >You’d rather these foals get some small chance to live in Hollow Shades than have them suffer whatever aftermath the Stronghold is about to face
  2982. >Soon enough you reach the orchard, a small grove hidden in a cleft of rock by the far wall
  2983. >The fruit trees have been mostly picked clean, though a few small melons remain on the upper branches amid pink and white blossoms
  2984. >Dark purple light glows softly through the opening in the ceiling, high above
  2985. >Nervously you stand at attention, ushering the orphans into the small space
  2986. “Okay everypony,” you say. “I need you all to fly up one by one and go outside. Once we’re all out, I want you to wait for me out there, okay?”
  2987.  
  2988. >Hex shuffles her hooves. “But... how will you get out?”
  2989. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you say. “I have my own way of getting out. This is the safest way for you all to go. I’ll come around and meet up with you again very soon.”
  2990. >Nightstone and some of the other foals begin to cry. “Moss Moon, I’m scared...”
  2991. >“That’s okay,” you say, doing your best to embrace them all. “It’s going to be okay. I know it’s scary, and you’re all being very brave. I just need you to be brave for a little while longer.”
  2992. >They sniffle as you hug them, and you wish that you were a better comfort, a stronger mare, someone who could give them strength when they needed it
  2993. >The truth is that you are afraid, too
  2994. >Slowly they begin to ascend, flying up to the exit
  2995. >Some are more reluctant than others, with Hex finally having to pry Nightstone away
  2996. >Her eyes are wet as she says goodbye
  2997. > “Wait for me, okay?” you call, as they fly away. “I’ll be up there before you know it.”
  2998. >The last to leave is one of the older fillies
  2999. >She hasn’t cried, hasn’t hugged you
  3000. >Has only bit her lip so hard that it bled
  3001. >“You’re not going to come back,” she says flatly, once the others are out of earshot. “Those humans are going to kill you.”
  3002. >You look down at her, and for a moment feel utterly lost
  3003. >Then you realize that there is no need to bandy words
  3004. “If humans come, take the foals and fly away,” you say. “Only approach other ponies. But don’t trust them.”
  3005. >“And what do we do if all the ponies die?”
  3006. “There’s a village a few days away, to the southwest. Hollow Shades, it’s called. Very old and very traditional, but they will accept you. Follow the blue moss – that is the secret way.”
  3007. >Without a word, the filly gives a slow, resigned nod, before picking up the last satchel and flying up
  3008. >“Wait for me,” you say. “I’m not going to abandon you. I promise.”
  3009. >When at last they have all gotten out, you let out a deep breath
  3010. >They’re safe, for now
  3011. >Now all you need to do is sneak out alone, and you can get them far away from this place
  3012. >You’d snuck out before; surely you can do it again, even amid the chaos
  3013. >You wonder how Anon is doing
  3014. >Will he be able to find you, if you leave?
  3015. >He doesn’t know about the moss, but he did follow you to Hollow Shades
  3016. >You will just have to hope that he can find the way again
  3017. >As you step out of the orchard, you realize too late that you are not alone
  3018. >You are not a warrior, and your mind isn’t clear
  3019. >How easy it is for the two humans hiding in the shadows to jump at you from both sides
  3020. “Shit!”
  3021. >One pins you beneath his weight, digging his hands into your neck to push your head into the ground
  3022. >The other kicks you in the stomach, making you gasp
  3023. >"These things are always so weak," he says. "It's pathetic."
  3024. >“What’re you doing back here, love?” the other asks. “Hiding something?”
  3025. >The one pinning you shifts his weight, granting access to your saddlebag. “Open this up.”
  3026. >You grimace as the man rummages through your supplies
  3027. >You curse yourself, screaming inside your mind, wishing that you were smarter, stronger, faster
  3028. >Wishing that you were anypony but yourself
  3029. >“Ah, what’s this?” The man draws something from your bag. “What in blazes...”
  3030. >Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the soft white glow of the object in his hand
  3031. >The last vial of lunar spring water
  3032. >He kneels down to wiggle it in front of your face
  3033. >“What’s this, then? Care to share?”
  3034. “Asperi piss,” you spit. “I know you love the taste.”
  3035. >The man holding you shakes you by the scruff, while the other just laughs
  3036. >“You’re funny. I like that.” He stands. “You can have your fun with her, Rolf. Don’t kill her yet. I’ll just have me a quick look in here.”
  3037. >The man pockets the vial and walks off, into the orchard, leaving you alone with Rolf
  3038. >Disgusting Rolf, who draws a knife and slides it against the side of your face
  3039. >“I’m gonna cut your eyeballs out,” he says, stupidly
  3040. >It feels so unreal, as if you aren’t here right now, as if it isn’t happening
  3041. >But you know that it is
  3042. >You know that you are helpless, trapped, too weak to save yourself
  3043. >Again
  3044. >Always
  3045. >“Moss Moon? Are you okay?”
  3046. >Nightstone is calling faintly
  3047. >You feel Rolf jerk the knife way, turning his body toward the noise
  3048. >Not enough to free you, though
  3049. >“Stay up there!” you scream. “Don’t come down!”
  3050. >You hear the unnamed man laughing
  3051. >“Oh, this is touching,” he says. “Here I thought you were hiding some gold. Bring her in here, Rolf.”
  3052. >Fingers close in your mane, wrenching you up
  3053. >You swing wildly with a hoof, but connect with nothing, before you are thrown bodily into the orchard
  3054. >You crash into one of the trees, a blow that might’ve snapped a smaller pony’s spine
  3055. >But yours is a body well-used to punishment, and it does not break
  3056. >Disoriented, you stagger up, but a boot connects with your ribcage
  3057. >You feel like throwing up
  3058. >The two men seize you and once again shove you to the ground
  3059. >You can hear them laughing
  3060. >The foals are screaming
  3061. >In your mind, you call out to her – Goddess, help me!
  3062. >If your prayers are heard, they go unanswered.
  3063. >Rolf is holding a knife up again, arcing it toward your scarred face
  3064. >His friend is guffawing like a madman
  3065. >Their faces blur, so much like a dream
  3066. >You remember the hands of the torturer, holding you down, cutting, sawing -
  3067. > - telling you that you deserved it -
  3068. >You throw your cheek into the blade, letting the steel carve your flesh
  3069. >Rolf’s wrist is unarmored, exposed, soft
  3070. >He screeches when you bite it, recoiling out of reflex
  3071. >It's enough
  3072. >You kick as hard as you can with your hind legs, legs that have borne you through this life of suffering, and scramble out from underneath
  3073. >Vaguely you are aware of the flash of his knife, the numb sensation in your shoulder
  3074. >It's nothing
  3075. >Pain can't stop you
  3076. >His high-pitched scream turns into a gurgle as your fangs rip into his throat
  3077. >Delicious blood floods your mouth
  3078. >Human blood always was the sweetest
  3079. >You cling to him, rending the cords of his neck
  3080. >Something slams into your back, throwing you to the dirt
  3081. >The wind is knocked from your lungs
  3082. >Doesn’t matter
  3083. >You roll away from another blow, the clang of metal ringing in your ears
  3084. >You have no oxygen, no breath, blood drips from your mouth
  3085. >Berserk, you twist to face the second man
  3086. >Though he towers over you, the instincts of your ancestors see in him a wretched, fearful boy, clinging to a paltry sword
  3087. >You lunge, a suicidal maneuver, leaping toward his open stance
  3088. >Fate could kill you here, as it has killed thousands of your brethren
  3089. >End your life like all the others
  3090. >Just another skewered casualty in some backwater hellhole
  3091. >Instead, his sword shaves off some piece of you, and your hoof slams into his groin
  3092. >He staggers, and crumples to the ground when you kick his ankles
  3093. >Immediately you stomp on his head, over and over and over again
  3094. >Until his redness has soaked into the earth, to nourish the roots of the melon tree
  3095. >You gasp for air, and vomit, and gasp for air again
  3096. >Panting in the faint moonlight
  3097. >The two bodies lie still on the ground
  3098. >For an instant you hate them, all of them; all of humanity
  3099. >All those that tortured you and ripped your life apart
  3100. >And for what? Why?
  3101. >You'd lived in fear of them since foalhood, but this was different - this was blind, burning hatred
  3102. >Hatred for all mankind
  3103. >Even Anon
  3104. >You hate him for his kindness, hate yourself for being drawn to him, hate yourself for being an ugly monster
  3105. >All of them - you want all of them to die
  3106. >Your entire body trembles with rage, your heart pounding in your chest
  3107. >And then you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks, stinging the fresh wound
  3108. >The bloodlust fades as you stare down at your stained hooves
  3109. >Anon...
  3110. >...please come back to me.
  3111. >You look up, struggling to contain your emotions
  3112. >The foals are watching through the opening
  3113. >Their worried faces look down at you, their bodies framed by the moon
  3114. >“I’m okay,” you say, gently,
  3115. >“Everything will be okay.”
  3116.  
  3117.  
  3118. Part 20
  3119.  
  3120.  
  3121. >You are Anon, and you have begun to change.
  3122. >Six dead men lie strewn across the dusty street, their broken bodies arranged in eternal repose.
  3123. >As if walking through a dream you had woven through them, seeing them in shadow, their twisted impressions like grey ghosts.
  3124. >Seeing their dreams, their fears, their nightmares. Cutting into their souls with a blade that was no longer your own.
  3125. >"You will slay them all, my servant," whispers the Goddess in your mind. "Before this night is done, you will purge them to the last, and the Earth will drink of their blood."
  3126. >Dead. They were all dead.
  3127. >A memory of a long-lost lover. Dreams of riches, dreams without meaning. Night terrors, visions of demons. Recollections of a man's childhood. You had sliced them all in twain.
  3128. >The Dreaming was unfolding before you. A vision of the Dreaming spilling out from your eyes like a new galaxy being born. The Dreaming, from which the Goddess ruled, and from which she would exact her vengeance.
  3129. >The power was unlike anything you'd ever felt before.
  3130. >It was as if you could walk through time. Through minds themselves.
  3131. >But not all minds.
  3132. >The sounds of crying wake you from your reverie.
  3133. >Through the smoke and dust and darkness you see them.
  3134. >The huddled forms of the bats you'd rescued with Moss Moon, the townsbats of the Stronghold.
  3135. >They still have not left the storehouse where they had been imprisoned.
  3136. >Instead they are huddled together in the corner, a great teeming mass of bat ponies, staring at you with what could only be utter terror.
  3137. >You step toward them. A younger mare screeches in fear. Stallions burst into tears.
  3138. >"No!" they scream. "No, please! Leave us!"
  3139. >"Monster! Creature! Begone!"
  3140. >They hiss, they howl, they cower in shadow.
  3141. >You lift your hand as if to speak, but no words come out.
  3142. >"No," says the Goddess. "They will love Us. They MUST love Us. Our time shall come again. But now they fear. First they must be freed. Our children must be freed."
  3143. >You stagger from the building, no longer fully in control of your own body.
  3144. >"Seek out my enemies," she commands. Her voice insistent, deep, gnawing. "Drive out those who have turned my children into whimpering beasts. Those who have robbed them of their birthright. You will wrest it back. You will restore to them what has been lost."
  3145. >You can feel the power surging within you, growing ever greater, an endless wave from a dark, bottomless sea. She is awakening within you. She is returning once more to the world, and you are her conduit.
  3146. >Motes of red light dance suddenly in your vision, forming shapes. You shake your head, but you can see them all around you, at various distances, heights, and depths.
  3147. >A vast feeling of disconnection rolls over you, and you feel somehow detached from your own body, seeing suddenly the whole of the Stronghold, all its little buildings at your feet.
  3148. >It is as if a great, dark eye pulses far overhead, and you are seeing through it.
  3149. >You see them. All of them. Every last remaining human.
  3150. >Their huddled, fearful bodies. Their terrified minds. In pairs or all alone, hiding in stolen homes. You drink in their fear. You smell their red, running blood. The thirst of the Goddess fills your mouth.
  3151. >The last of Cutter's men. You will see them gone.
  3152. >Through the silent streets you stalk, under the clouds of smoke from the great fire. Night has just fallen. The hunter has returned. Your grim work begins.
  3153.  
  3154. * * *
  3155.  
  3156. >You are Moss Moon, and you stand at a crossroads.
  3157. >The orphans await you outside the Stronghold. For now they are safe, thanks to you.
  3158. >You should hurry to them, you tell yourself; leave this burning hell behind. Save yourself, while you still can.
  3159. >But Anon.
  3160. >You can't leave Anon.
  3161. >No matter how many times you tell yourself that he'll be fine, that he can take care of himself - you know that is a lie. A lie you tell yourself to quell your fear.
  3162. >Your fear that if you leave this place, you will never see him ever again.
  3163. >He could already be dead. You'd left him there, all alone, surrounded by so many killers.
  3164. >You've prayed, oh how you've prayed, begging the Goddess to protect him. To protect you.
  3165. >But never does she respond. Never a single word, a single sign.
  3166. >Everything you've ever done, you've had to do by your own grit. You've had to rely on your own strength. Your own sturdiness. Because without it, you'd be dead.
  3167. >She's with me, you tell yourself. That's why I'm still alive. She's watching over me.
  3168. >Even as the pain throbs in your hooves and your back and your face, even as the blood of men drips from your fangs, you remind yourself of this:
  3169. >She is with me.
  3170. >But even if she is with me, I have to be the one to make things happen.
  3171. >I have to be the one to protect him.
  3172. >Your heart hammers in your chest.
  3173. >You remember Anja. How fast she had taken to the air when you had told her of Hunter Killer. How quickly she had gone to his side.
  3174. >How you wish you had your wings again, so that you could fly to the one you love.
  3175. >You had to find him, quickly, if you could. If you left now, you would always regret it.
  3176. >Summoning your strength, the endurance that has never failed you, that had carried your broken body all these years, you gallop back into the streets of the Stronghold.
  3177. >You can't look for Anon from the air, but there is another way to seek him.
  3178. >Your hooves carry you back where you left him - the storehouse.
  3179. >The streets are eerily quiet, the only sounds your hoof-falls against the stones.
  3180. >You encounter no one. No mercenaries try to strike you, no soldiers step from alleyways to cut you down.
  3181. >Breathing hard, you come to a stop before the storehouse.
  3182. >Your heart sinks when you see the bodies littering the street outside.
  3183. >Frantically you search between them, looking for Anon.
  3184. >Is that him? Is he - no, no, it's only a mercenary, one of Cutter's…
  3185. >Your panic rises even as you determine that Anon is not among the dead lying before you.
  3186. >Where is he? Where has he gone?
  3187. >"Witch! There she is!"
  3188. >The cry sounds behind you, and then a great hissing; you are shocked when you turn your head
  3189. >There at your back stands almost the whole of the Stronghold, every single bat
  3190. >The face of every tormentor, every pony that has ever spat on you, kicked you, threatened to throw you to the beasts outside.
  3191. >Hatred glows from every eye.
  3192. >"You!" comes a screech. "You! You have done this! You are the one who brought calamity upon us, you cursed bound!"
  3193. >A rock sails by. A second strikes you in your shoulder, pain blossoming down your leg.
  3194. "No - " you try to say, "Stop - "
  3195. >It is no use. The crowd surges forward, and the front line is upon you
  3196. >You feel them scratching, biting, clawing
  3197. >"Whore!"
  3198. >"Witch!"
  3199. >A stallion shoves you, sending you into a wall
  3200. >You struggle to keep your footing when a pair of bat ponies lunge at you, spitting obscenities in your ear
  3201. "Get - OFF!"
  3202. >With your powerful forehooves you push them back, before bolting down an alleyway
  3203. >You can hear them behind you, chasing you, seeking your blood
  3204. >A hundred times before they'd chased you
  3205. >Even now they hate you
  3206. >And perhaps they are right to hate you
  3207. >They had nothing before, but now they have less than nothing
  3208. >It was all gone now
  3209. >All gone
  3210. >Could you really say that they are not cursed? These ponies at the edge of the world, trapped under the icy hooves of the Asperi, little lives continuing only at their whim?
  3211. >You have no time to think, no time to reflect
  3212. >You are just a bound, a cursed creature, hated by all
  3213. >But you refuse to die, not here, not now
  3214. >Their howls and screams sound behind you, their blind rage, their fangs seeking through you their hated masters
  3215. >But they will not have their revenge today, no matter how thin it would be
  3216. >You know all too well how to escape, having practiced a hundred times before
  3217. >Leaping from alley to alley, climbing through the crannies of the old stone buildings, you hear their screams fading behind you
  3218. >Eventually you have lost sight of them, and they have lost all track of you
  3219. >When at last you slow down, you feel the tears streaming down your cheeks
  3220. >You let out a choked, ragged breath, and dry your eyes against a forelimb
  3221. >Anon, where are you?
  3222. >You would never find him. Perhaps the townsbats knew, but they would never talk to you. They'd sooner tear you limb from limb.
  3223. "I'm sorry," you whisper, choking back a sob.
  3224. >Apologizing to Anon. To the bats of the Stronghold. To the orphans awaiting you outside.
  3225. >Apologizing to the Goddess. To yourself.
  3226. >Failed. Another failure. Failed even now, when you were needed most of all.
  3227. "Anon, I'm so sorry…"
  3228. >You don't want to feel sorry for yourself. You don't want to sit here and cry. But what can you do?
  3229. >There's no where to go. Nowhere to look. You could spend all night searching for Anon and never find him. He could be long dead and you'd never know.
  3230. >I can't give up, you tell yourself. I can't.
  3231. >Even if it means facing the townsbats again, or fighting more humans, or wading through the great bonfire itself. You would not give up on Anon.
  3232. >Because you know he would never give up on you.
  3233. >You force yourself from your hiding place, slipping from shadow to shadow.
  3234. >You could go back to the fire, brave the open spaces, perhaps find him fighting -
  3235. >Stepping into a small courtyard, your mind races, thinking of where to go, when you suddenly see it
  3236. >Your breath catches in your throat
  3237. >A feeling of horrible dread settles over you when you realize what exactly you're looking at
  3238. >An unimaginable fear as your eyes alight on the stacks of barrels, smelling of sulphur, stacked high against the walls of an old empty tavern, turning this hell into an even greater nightmare
  3239. >Black powder, primed and ready for detonation.
  3240.  
  3241.  
  3242. Part 21
  3243.  
  3244.  
  3245. >You are Anon, and you are losing your mind
  3246. >It is as if the sequence of events now unfolding are happening to someone else, and you are merely watching
  3247. >And yet you can feel your body, feel the stones beneath your feet, feel the crunch of bone and sinew as your blade takes another life
  3248. >Silence
  3249. >You stand, breathing heavily, in the darkness of the chamber, ducking your head to fit in the squat structure built for bat ponies, not for humans
  3250. >The corpse of another mercenary lies bisected against the wall, his sword still gripped in his dead hand
  3251. "How long - will you make me do this?" you ask, forcing the words out through gritted teeth
  3252. >Even as you protest, your feet are carrying you out the door, out to the next target
  3253. >"Do you equivocate?" the Goddess asks, her voice coldly bereft of emotion. "Do not forget who it was who allowed you to once again draw breath."
  3254. >You feel a twinge, a dull sense of irony
  3255. >You know who is truly responsible for keeping you alive
  3256. >For saving you again and again
  3257. "I want to help - her - "
  3258. >"My servants all must play their parts," comes the reply. "Your life is mine to do with as I see fit. That was our bargain."
  3259. >You know that there are no words that can change her mind, no words that can free you
  3260. >You are trapped in your bond to the Goddess
  3261. >Again and again you kill, guided from red form to red form, seeking the human stragglers who now hide in the homes of those they once terrorized
  3262. >It becomes a blur to you, another dream
  3263. >You remember being Boy, remember watching the villages as they burned, the shadows of Father and of Cutter and all their warriors slaying and torturing
  3264. >Is this vengeance? Is this your penitence?
  3265. >Not yet. Not yet.
  3266. >Not until they are all gone.
  3267. >Your hand tightens consciously around the hilt of your sword.
  3268. >The Goddess' rage is your rage, her bloodlust your bloodlust
  3269. >Through a haze of red you cut down man after man
  3270. >It is only after some indeterminate time - it could have been minutes, or an hour, though it felt like a year, and like no time at all - that you find yourself wandering down a long, wide street
  3271. >You become vaguely aware of shadows ahead, creatures whose dreams you cannot see
  3272. >Bat ponies
  3273. >On the ground lie two dead humans, their blood seeping into the gutter
  3274. >Near them lie the bodies of two ponies, attended by a large, white mare
  3275. >She's nuzzling one, and does not turn to look at you
  3276. >Vaguely you are aware of a wounded stallion, still standing, the only one paying you any attention, brandishing a spear
  3277. >"Murphy! Murphy, shoot him!" he cries. When nothing happens, he curses under his breath. "Bastard, he's abandoned us."
  3278. >For a long moment you regard the scene in detachment, as if in a drunken stupor, struggling to speak
  3279. >"Back off!" the stallion shouts. "I"ll kill you where you stand, human!"
  3280. "I've been killing humans all night," you finally say. "I have no quarrel with you."
  3281. >The white mare turns her head to look at you, coldly appraising you with her ice blue eyes.
  3282. >"Leave him," the mare says. "This one no threat. He is friend of witch. The bound."
  3283. >After she says this, a loud groan comes up from the stallion by her hooves
  3284. >"Oh, for Goddess' sake," you hear. "What justice is there that those two are still alive? I swear, this night just keeps getting worse."
  3285. >Past the white mare, you see him: Hunter Killer, slumped against a wall, a forelimb folded across his belly
  3286. >He coughs. Blood. He squints angrily in your direction
  3287. >"Well? What is it?" he demands. "Can't you see we're busy?"
  3288. "What happened?"
  3289. >"Cutter happened. We fought. Killed his men, sent him running with his tail between his legs."
  3290. >He laughs, darkly, a wretched sound that ends with him gasping for breath. Anja rests a hoof on his shoulder.
  3291. >"'But Captain,'" Hunter Killer crows, in an affected, dopey voice, "'humans don't have tails!'"
  3292. >His gaze drops to the form of the fallen pony beside him
  3293. >"That's what Niebler would say, if he wasn't dead." He sighs. "Oh poor, dead Niebler. I'll be joining him soon."
  3294. >The white mare hisses. "Don't be of saying this. You are strong. You will live."
  3295. >"I appreciate your optimism Anja. But I'm already dead. My body's just too dumb to realize it yet."
  3296. >Hunter Killer winces, shifting the bloodied hoof on his abdomen. The coils of his shredded intestines are visible in the gathered shadows.
  3297. >"Bastard gutted me but good. But he died for it," he says. He kicks the head of one of the dead humans. "Oh, did he die. His screams almost distracted me from the blinding pain. Almost."
  3298. "Where did Cutter go?" you ask.
  3299. >"Back to the fire I reckon. That's where I saw him heading. Coward ran soon as the cavalry arrived."
  3300. >A flicker of pride briefly softens Anja's grim expression.
  3301. >"You'll finish him off, won't you?" Hunter Killer continues. "Consider that an order, from me to you. I want this human scum eradicated. You understand, don't you?"
  3302. >Another bright, hacking laugh.
  3303. >"Fate has such a ridiculous sense of humor. Where is your friend, anyway?"
  3304. "She's looking after the others. The bats who live here."
  3305. >Hunter Killer snorts. "What? Are you serious? Ha!" he shakes his head. "What a poor fool. A bound helping the ones who hate her. She'd be better leaving this place and never looking back."
  3306. >Part of you agrees. Part of you admires Moss Moon. All of you wishes to see her again. You stay silent.
  3307. >"Get going, then," Hunter Killer says. "At least finished what we started. It's the least we can do. This revolution's over before it could even begin. What a waste."
  3308. >His two companions stare at the ground, at their dead comrade, their wounded leader, but say nothing
  3309. >"Take me outside," Hunter Killer continues. "I want to see the sky before I kick off."
  3310. >Together his companions stoop to support him. "Go on!" he cries. "I don't want to say it again!"
  3311. >But already you are moving on, leaving them behind.
  3312. >Heading back to the great bonfire, where Cutter surely awaits.
  3313. >As you pass through the shaded alleyways, heading for that distant red glow, you become aware of another presence in this place
  3314. >An immense pressure emanating from somewhere ahead, a wave of air that seems to cling to your very body
  3315. >You can sense a new emotion from the Goddess. Anxiety. Caution. She is alert now, you can feel it. But she says nothing yet. Watching. Waiting.
  3316. >The air is eerily heavy when you step into the Stronghold's center
  3317. >Smoke billows from the bonfire, sending up hundreds of glowing embers as the flames lick toward the high rock ceiling
  3318. "Why can't I see him?" you ask, in your mind
  3319. >"Be silent," the Goddess hisses. "Concentrate."
  3320. >You do as you are bid, slowly circling the fire, looking for any sign of Cutter, any movement, any sound
  3321. >You know he is nearby, you can feel his dreaming, but you cannot see his shape
  3322. >In the instant you become aware, it is only by reflex that you survive
  3323. >Leaping to the side, you narrowly avoid the spinning knife as it sails through the air where you once stood
  3324. >"Boy…"
  3325. >There, in the mouth of an alleyway adjoining the courtyard, stands the lanky silhouette of Cutter
  3326. >He leans upon the black blade - Father's sword - its edge pressed down into the stones
  3327. >The feeling of pressure has magnified a hundredfold around him, and the air itself trembles like a mirage
  3328. >"That is no blade," the Goddess spits, reading your thoughts. "That is the Horn of my Enemy, whose torn body lies in the depths of the Far North. Even now he haunts me. Every moment of his existence is an insult to my rule!" She is shrieking now in your ear. "You will destroy him, mortal! Destroy him in my name!"
  3329. >Cutter regards you coldly from afar
  3330. >"I'm so glad we could see each other, one last time," he calls. "I don't know how you escaped, nor how you still draw breath. But I must admit, it pleases me to no end. I so wanted to watch you die."
  3331. >Through him you can see his dreaming, an undulating, horrible mass, but something is shading it, obfuscating its true form
  3332. >Something vast, cyclopean beyond measure, emanating from the weapon he holds before him
  3333. >You have nothing to say to him. You draw your sword.
  3334. >As if your mirror, Cutter kicks the Black Horn up onto his shoulder. "I will enjoy killing you, Boy." He cackles. "As will your Father."
  3335. >Slowly you approach, your sword held away from your body, defensive against his long blade
  3336. >His range is far greater; you will have to cut past the arc of his swing to reach his body, a dangerous maneuver
  3337. >You find yourself wishing for a spear, anything to give you an advantage
  3338. >It is only with vague surprise that you realize that the Goddess has already responded, morphing the dream of your sword into a long-hafted halberd
  3339. >Cutter's black eyes widen in amazement. "What sorcery is this?"
  3340. >You give him no time to ponder, charging immediately, fronting your weapon's razor sharp point
  3341. >Your opponent is no true warrior, a pale imitation of the man who once wielded the weapon he holds
  3342. >Letting out a strangled cry, Cutter turns and flees into the alleyway, escaping into the shadows
  3343. >Something ominous and angry pulses in the air, the omnipresent feeling of pressure reverberating with inutterable words spoken from some far distant place
  3344. >In response the Goddess' elation pounds in your ears, urging you on, commanding you to give chase
  3345. >Even as you rush after your quarry, the atmosphere gives you pause
  3346. >Something is not right
  3347. >"Go, go!" comes the Goddess' feverish cry. "He is in rout! Finish him now, now!"
  3348. >You struggle to resist her sudden derangement, her single-minded focus on destruction, but it drives you on, on
  3349. >You charge forward, after Cutter, after the Black Horn, toward you know not what.
  3350.  
  3351.  
  3352. Part 22
  3353.  
  3354.  
  3355. >You are Moss Moon, and you are facing oblivion.
  3356. >Before you, stacked against the tavern wall in columns 5 barrels high, is a mass of black powder
  3357. >You recognize the smell immediately, having once experimented with the substance in Grandmother's study
  3358. >You know just how deadly this stuff can be
  3359. >If a single spark were to ignite the contents of even just one of these barrels…
  3360. >Luckily there is no one around, no humans trying to detonate the pile
  3361. >Surely they would not be so suicidal, right?
  3362. >The thought is a desperate comfort, and nothing more
  3363. >You know what humans are like, what they're capable of
  3364. >For the black powder to even be here tells you that the Stronghold was never meant to survive
  3365. >No, you're overreacting, you tell yourself
  3366. >This must be their only store, they must've brought it for some other purpose
  3367. >But when you scale to the top of the tavern and look about you, the dread builds ever higher
  3368. >Dotting the courtyards around you, here and there, are more barrels, like breadcrumbs of black powder
  3369. >Spaced to catch fire in turn, should one stack be lit - preparation for a grand chain reaction
  3370. >You can see that here and there are many such barrels tucked away, awaiting such a contingency
  3371. >There is no telling how many stacks are standing hidden throughout the city.
  3372. >Panic begins to set in. At any moment, someone could set off an explosion, one that could rip across the entire Stronghold.
  3373. >You have to do something, you have to disable them somehow
  3374. >But there are too many, how could you ever reach them all in time? What would you even do to neutralize them?
  3375. >As you sit here deliberating, some palsy-handed human could be lighting black powder ablaze halfway across town
  3376. >Or a spark from the bonfire could be spinning, spinning, falling down toward a nearby stack
  3377. >You have to do something, warn them, warn Anon, warn the others -
  3378. >For a moment, you pause
  3379. >The others, who had just chased you, cursed you, tried to tear you apart
  3380. >For what reason should you save them, when they would never do the same for you? For the orphans? For even themselves, perhaps?
  3381. >It is for the Goddess to judge them, you tell yourself
  3382. >But that doesn't stop the anger from bubbling up from deep within
  3383. >How suddenly it comes, your hatred for them
  3384. >Hatred for the many years of torment they'd inflicted upon you
  3385. >Keeping you trapped here, punishing you when they caught you trying to leave, kicking you into the dirt, letting you starve
  3386. >Even after you'd just rescued them with Anon, they attacked you as they always had
  3387. >Why should you help them? Why now?
  3388. >Let them burn… let them all go up in flames.
  3389. >You bite your lip, so hard that you draw blood.
  3390. >No.
  3391. >How many of their bones had you set? Illnesses vanquished? Foals delivered?
  3392. >Even in their hatred, their mistreatment of you, they had sought you out.
  3393. >Used you, yes. Paid you in coin but never in kindness. Spat on you even after you had saved their lives.
  3394. >You had never asked to be their pariah. It was a burden that you had come to bear.
  3395. >Either death or alienation. You had picked the latter.
  3396. >This was the life you chose.
  3397. >You would not turn back on that now.
  3398. >Not now, when you could save so many.
  3399. >Hurriedly you navigate back toward the storehouse, keeping to the shadows.
  3400. >You encounter no ponies on the return trip
  3401. >Indeed, it appears that they all had remain clustered by the storehouse, milling aimlessly about
  3402. >Bravely you step forth into the open, making yourself seen
  3403. >This time they do not give chase. Instead they eye you sullenly, having given up on the idea of catching you.
  3404. "Everypony!" you call out. "We have to leave, there is powder - black powder, it's everywhere, it could go up at any moment!"
  3405. >To your shock, most of the bats do not even stir
  3406. >A few hiss angrily at you, telling you to go away
  3407. "What are you doing?" you cry. "We have to go! Do you want to die here?"
  3408. >From among them emerges the old shopkeeper, the one who used to sell you supplies, though he did so with disdain
  3409. >"You want to leave, then go," he says. "No one will hold you here anymore. We've never wanted you here, anyway. All you've done is bring misfortune."
  3410. "Have you not seen the powder?" you ask
  3411. >"Of course we have. We helped them move it in." He ignores the look of shock on your face. "What else could we do? This is our home. We have nowhere else to go."
  3412. "But, why - you could have fought them - "
  3413. >"Don't be a fool. We are mares and old stallions. None of us are soldiers. They would have cut us to pieces. We could either have death, or surrender ourselves to their whims. It seems that death will be the outcome regardless."
  3414. "It doesn't have to be," you start to say. "We can all leave, go south, far away -"
  3415. >"And do what there?" the shopkeeper asks. "We have lived here all our lives. There is nothing for us in the south. Our livelihoods were here. Now they are gone. Our time is over. The Asperi and their humans have finally seen to that."
  3416. >With that he turns away from you, giving you a final glare over his shoulder, before returning to the rest of the crowd
  3417. >You swallow nervously, then grit your teeth
  3418. >His were the words of someone with no hope, no passion, no fire
  3419. >The mannerisms of the townsbats were those of a population that had wholly given up
  3420. >What can you do for them? What medicine could you administer to heal what was fundamentally broken?
  3421. >The more you think, the more angry you become
  3422. >Thinking of all the times they'd pushed you down, and every time you'd stood back up
  3423. >How you became stronger and stronger because you refused to lie down and die
  3424. >A rock lies near your hooves
  3425. >You pick it up.
  3426. "Get -
  3427. >You throw it into the crowd with all your might.
  3428. " - OUT!"
  3429. >It bounces off the back of a coquettish mare, eliciting a squeak of pain
  3430. >A great cry of anger rises from the crowd as their eyes fix on you
  3431. >Another rock. It fits in your hoof as if you were always meant to throw it. You launch it at the old shopkeeper, instead hitting his neighbor in the leg.
  3432. >"How dare you!" he cries
  3433. "Shut up!"
  3434. >There are rocks all around you, bricks and debris
  3435. >You toss them one after another, throwing rock after rock, striking bat ponies as they hiss and screech and rage at you
  3436. "Get out!" you scream. "Get out, get out!"
  3437. >A few bats move toward you, but rocks to their faces and chests send them staggering back
  3438. >They take to the air, hissing, spiraling upward, upward and away
  3439. "Go! Go, damn you!"
  3440. >You keep throwing, keep screeching, expelling those who have hurt you once and for all
  3441. >Bat ponies recoil and spit, familiar faces contorted with rage, with primal awakening, as your relentless attack drives them into the air
  3442. >Soon the whole swarm of them flies above you, screeching and crying, their calls echoing throughout the vast chamber within the mountain
  3443. "Leave! Leave!"
  3444. >You scream, even as your lungs burn and your vocal cords threaten to tear
  3445. >You scream until they have all dispersed, flying toward the Stronghold's exits, flying away from you
  3446. >Blinking back tears of rage, you watch them go, panting as you allow yourself to breathe deep of the sooty air
  3447. >You did it
  3448. >You feel no pride, no happiness for it
  3449. >But you did it
  3450. >The orphans, the townsbats, all have gone
  3451. >That leaves only you, and -
  3452. >The ground shakes suddenly beneath you
  3453. >You whirl around, expecting to see explosive plumes of fire
  3454. >Instead you see a bright purple glow, a flash of dark light, coming from the direction of the great bonfire
  3455. >Anon -
  3456. >You gallop toward it, heedless of danger
  3457. >Hoping, praying that you are not too late
  3458.  
  3459.  
  3460. Part 23
  3461.  
  3462.  
  3463. >You are Anon, a human warrior.
  3464. >And you have chased down your prey.
  3465. >In the back of an alleyway, you've caught him. Cutter.
  3466. >He stands atop a pile of what you realize, despite the flickering shadows, must be barrels.
  3467. >In one hand he clutches a burning brand, in the other, the Black Horn.
  3468. >Over the stench of smoke and fear, the faint smell of sulphur assaults your nose.
  3469. >"Do you know what these are, Boy?"
  3470. >His face is full of mirth, dead eyes glinting in the light of the brand, but he cannot keep the shaking from his voice.
  3471. >"It's powder, boy. I'm going to blow this place sky high."
  3472. >Your grip on the dream halberd remains neutral
  3473. >It does not matter to you if he is bluffing, or telling the truth
  3474. >You are merely watching the amorphous mass of his dreaming, the essence masked by the weapon in his hand
  3475. >Waiting for an opening
  3476. >"You must understand. The Asperi are no longer interested in these podunk little villages. Too little to offer. Too ripe for rebellion. They want this place gone. They want all these little flying rats obliterated."
  3477. >He's waiting for you to respond, gauging you for fear, but you have none
  3478. >You feel next to nothing
  3479. >Even as the Goddess chatters in your ear, urging you on, telling you to kill, to snap the Horn, crush it to dust, and scatter it to the wind
  3480. >"Don't you have anything to say, Boy? Or are you afraid?"
  3481. >You know Cutter doesn't care about the Stronghold, or the Asperi
  3482. >Always he has used the agenda of the Frozen Princes as an excuse to indulge his own impulses
  3483. >You know that the only reason he would ever blow this place apart would be if he thought he could kill you in the process
  3484. >Could Cutter truly bring himself to do it? Could he truly bring himself to commit suicide, just to end your life?
  3485. >"Yes, you fear me, you know that I hold it all in the balance, that I could end you with but a whim! I have won, Boy! I will finally see your Father avenged!"
  3486. >No. No, you just can see it.
  3487. >He is too weak.
  3488. >He is nothing like Father.
  3489. >He is afraid. And his fear is overwhelming the obfuscating power of the Horn.
  3490. >You see him trembling there, see the fear he cannot hide, and suddenly the mask falls away
  3491. >A subtle hiss spills out from the air, a hiss of anger from the weapon that should never have belonged to Cutter in the first place
  3492. >Cutter's dreaming appears. The black mass of it, a roiling bubble into which you can pry and peel apart his reality.
  3493. >You can see the span of Cutter's life.
  3494. >The burning of his hands. Sobbing, crying child. The beatings.
  3495. >The murders.
  3496. >The gleeful twisting of his grin as he cuts apart his prey. Their screams, a thousand dying screams.
  3497. >You see and hear and smell it all.
  3498. >The beating of his fearful heart. No, no, no.
  3499. >Watching you. Watching Father. No. How he loved Father, no, how could you - how could you have killed him, Boy?
  3500. >How could you?
  3501. >The nightmare plays over and over in his mind, every night, every horrible night, watching himself watch you kill Father over and over again, watching you stab him through the back, no, no, Boy! No!
  3502. >You realize, distantly, that you are his nightmare.
  3503. >You are the thing this wretched creature hates and fears the most.
  3504. >It is the easiest thing in the world to end him. You had already killed him long ago.
  3505. >The half-moon blade of dreams slices through Cutter's mind. The maw of the Goddess yawns wide.
  3506. >He screams, screams, screams as she swallows him whole.
  3507. >And then he is dead. Standing dead atop the mountain of barrels, struck down without you even touching him.
  3508. >Cutter drops the burning brand. It falls upon the barrels of powder, flames sputtering, then blazing strong once more.
  3509. >His body collapses, spitting blood, and he falls out of sight.
  3510. >From his hand, the Black Horn falls. It clatters to the ground.
  3511. >The ancient weapon thrums ominously at your feet, pulsing with unfathomable power.
  3512. >Removed from its weak host, it is ready to take on a new owner.
  3513. >A new champion.
  3514. >"Pick it up, Boy."
  3515. >A dark voice in your mind. A new voice. The Goddess is trying to speak, but you can barely hear her over the droning of the Horn.
  3516. >You look up. Father is looming up before you. Great, shaggy-haired Father with the blazing white grin.
  3517. >"By rights, it is your weapon," he says. "Do you deserve to wield it?"
  3518. >There is a flash of purple light, an eerie scream. The braying of a nightmarish stallion. You can see it in the space beyond your eyes. A creature looking back at you from the abyss.
  3519. >The Black Horn is in your hands.
  3520. >"Destroy it, you wretch!" The Goddess screams, though her voice is barely audible. Vaguely you feel her anger, her fear. "Destroy it now, before it is too late!"
  3521. >You feel so numb.
  3522. >Floating in some dark space.
  3523. >Where are you? What are you becoming?
  3524. >You struggle to remember yourself. Who you are.
  3525. >Training with Father. Practicing the steps, the cuts, the killing blows.
  3526. >"You are a killer," he says. "You will always be a killer. That is all you will ever be. That is what makes you human. Never forget that."
  3527. >You move in time to block his strike, deflecting the Black Horn as Father brings it down to bear upon your head.
  3528. >"There can be no hesitation," Father says. "The moment you hesitate is the moment you die."
  3529. >He swings again, driving you back. Back into the void.
  3530. >You can't hear the Goddess anymore. You can hear no dark voice, hear no thrum of the weapon.
  3531. >There is only you, and Father, and the fight of that day, when you could bear that life no longer.
  3532. >"Kill me," Father commands, attacking again and again, a blur of blades. "Kill me, if this is what you hate. Kill me, as you did before."
  3533. >You parry and backstep, avoiding the arc of the Horn. You feel no exhaustion, no impetus to ever stop. You could fight forever. Kill forever. If you wanted to.
  3534. >Trapped like this for eternity. Fighting, as your blood demands.
  3535. >No -
  3536. >This is not what you want.
  3537. >The Black Horn swings toward you.
  3538. >The nightmare presses in around you.
  3539. >You focus.
  3540. >You remember.
  3541. >Dull gold eyes, green hair.
  3542. >Her embrace.
  3543. >You open your eyes again, and find yourself in the Dreaming.
  3544.  
  3545. >All around you are the shapes of countless creatures.
  3546. >You see the dreams of insects, the dreams of bats, the dreams of the dead.
  3547. >The pink waters of the sea of dreams, rippling beneath your feet. A sky vast and deep, dark blue. A brilliant full moon, pure and without fault.
  3548. >A shining path appears before you, winding across the water.
  3549. >You follow it. Trees of spindled gold fiber sprout beside you at every step, blossoming with great white flowers, vines of plump golden fruit.
  3550. >Stars of many colors shimmer overhead, forming constellations, changing, dreaming.
  3551. >You walk for what seems like hours across the ever-changing sea.
  3552. >In time you come across a white orb, a little ball of warmth that is alien, yet oddly familiar.
  3553. >It can only be your own dream.
  3554. >Tentatively you reach out with a hand, and thumb through its contents.
  3555. >You pass through your childhood, looking upon the face of your Mother that until now you could hardly remember.
  3556. >Seeing those brief moments of happiness that punctuated the horror that was your existence.
  3557. >You continue ahead, through adolescence, into adulthood.
  3558. >To Moss Moon, meeting your gaze for the first time.
  3559. >Moss Moon, sharing with you a mango.
  3560. >Moss Moon, in your arms, telling you how she felt for you.
  3561. >You telling her the same.
  3562. >Moments you want to remember, always.
  3563. >You know now what you must do.
  3564. >How to free yourself.
  3565. >You return to that day, that day when you were still just a Boy.
  3566. >The image of you and Father. The nightmare of that day, when you took from him his life, and felt your own seep away.
  3567. >The eternal combat, that even now rages in your mind.
  3568. "Enough."
  3569. >You reach out with your hand,
  3570. >and you tear it down.
  3571.  
  3572.  
  3573. Part 24
  3574.  
  3575.  
  3576. >You are Moss Moon, a brave bat pony.
  3577. >And you are running for your life.
  3578. >You had saved the orphans of the Stronghold. Driven the townsbats away from certain death.
  3579. >When you had seen the flash of bright purple light, you knew that Anon had something to do with it. Knew that you had to help him.
  3580. >But when you arrived, you could see no one there - and instead saw only the burning crown of a stack of powder barrels.
  3581. >Immediately you had turned on your hoof to flee, when the first explosion sent you flying
  3582. >You'd landed face first against stone, scraping fur and flesh from your scarred cheek.
  3583. >When the second explosion sounded, you were already back on your hooves, racing as fast as your legs would carry you.
  3584. >You have done all you could here.
  3585. >Now the only thing you can do is save yourself.
  3586. >You run.
  3587. >The streets are empty. No one remains in the Stronghold but you.
  3588. >Your heart hammers in your chest. The sounds of your hoof-falls are drowned out by the successive roars of explosions at your back.
  3589. >Heat and flames lick at your coat, singing your tail, roasting you even as you gallop away.
  3590. >Another explosion rocks the earth, too close. You are sent flying again, this time into the wall of a building. You feel something crack. A groan of pain escapes your lips.
  3591. >You stagger forward. Your vision blurs. You vomit.
  3592. >No. Not here.
  3593. >Not now.
  3594. >Another explosion. The heat is so intense that you feel the skin on your flank sizzling.
  3595. >The pain launches you forward. You bolt, heading instinctually for the exit.
  3596. >You can barely see anything. There's so much smoke. The ground is shaking.
  3597. >Rocks fall all around you. They pelt your battered hide, breaking bones, pulverizing muscle.
  3598. >The agony is unlike anything you've ever felt.
  3599. >You know if you stop, you will die.
  3600. >Not here -
  3601. >You won't die here.
  3602. >Not in the Stronghold.
  3603. >This place is not your home.
  3604. >You run, your legs unfeeling, your body numbing itself to pain.
  3605. >You are immune to pain.
  3606. >Your whole life has prepared you for this, prepared you to break every obstacle you could ever face.
  3607. >The only thing that will ever stop you is death.
  3608. >And today, you're going to outrun it.
  3609. >The dim outline of the exit appears ahead of you.
  3610. >You need only run down the main road.
  3611. >A road upon which before you'd always had to creep and hide, hoping to avoid the gaze of some bored guard.
  3612. >There is no one to watch you now.
  3613. >No one to stop you.
  3614. >Just you, the exit, and the fire at your back.
  3615. >Blood hammers in your ears. Your heart and lungs push to their limit, propelling you forward, forcing your sturdy body to keep moving.
  3616. >Another explosion. Another blast that sends you flying into the air. Your hooves leave the ground.
  3617. >You sail out into the cold night.
  3618. >Flying, briefly, under the moon.
  3619. >When you land, you are barely conscious of the ground coming up brutally to meet you.
  3620. >Branches snapping, rocks and debris shooting around you, hard earth mercilessly cradling your spinning body.
  3621. >You roll down, down the slope, far from the mouth of the cave
  3622. >When at last you stop, you wonder briefly if you'll ever be able to walk again
  3623. >You lie there, listening to the pounding of your heart, the ragged breaths you force yourself to take
  3624. >For a long while, you can think of a nothing at all, reveling only in the mere fact that you survived, that you are still alive
  3625. >And then your thoughts turn to him
  3626. >Anon…
  3627. >You choke, swallowing the cry of anguish
  3628. >Did he escape?
  3629. >You didn't see him
  3630. >You have no idea where he went, where he could be now
  3631. >For all you know, he went up in flames like the rest of the Stronghold
  3632. >Lying there in the underbrush on the side of the mountain, under the night sky, you finally allow yourself to succumb to emotion
  3633. >Tears stream freely down your face, mixing with the dirt
  3634. >You pound your hoof into the ground, again and again, ignoring the throbbing, stabbing pain in your sides, in your legs, all over
  3635. >Why, why, why?
  3636. >Why did you leave him alone?
  3637. >You know why. You know that if you had not left when you did, the orphans may not ever have made it out of the Stronghold.
  3638. >But even so, you curse yourself, you wish, insanely, that you could have split yourself in two, and done everything that you needed to do.
  3639. >You are only mortal. Just a single pony. You did what you could.
  3640. >Goddess, what could you have done?
  3641. >You ask her this, lying there all alone
  3642. >Begging for her counsel, hoping for some kind of comfort
  3643. >You curl into yourself and sob, feeling all the pain and misery come crashing down upon you
  3644. >Voices, suddenly
  3645. >You swallow repeatedly, quieting your cries
  3646. >Turning on your belly, you peek through the grasses in which you are partially hidden
  3647. >In the distance you see a group of bat ponies solemnly marching, heading down the mountain path
  3648. >An entire squad of them, led by a familiar white figure
  3649. >Anja
  3650. >On her back she bears the broken body of another pony, one you quickly recognize as Hunter Killer
  3651. >With her sharp eyes, it is not long before Anja notices your hiding place
  3652. >She halts, and the stallions trailing behind her halt in turn, following her gaze
  3653. >At first you fear they will attack you, but you realize that they are in no condition to fight
  3654. >Their eyes are listless, their wings and tails drooping in resignation
  3655. >Anja calls out to you. "Do you live?"
  3656. For a moment, you are silent. "Still moving," you finally say.
  3657. >"Good," she replies. "You friend is where?"
  3658. You choke over the words. "I don't know."
  3659. >Though the hard line of her mouth does not change, her blue eyes soften, only slightly
  3660. >"Death come. Death take," she says. "But you live. Keep live. For him."
  3661. >She looks over her shoulder, forlornly, at the body of Hunter Killer, lying lifelessly across her back
  3662. >You feel a twinge, seeing the body of someone you once hated, carried by those who loved him
  3663. >"Goodbye, good witch," Anja says. "Leave now. Night creatures come soon. Will eat what they find."
  3664. >Like a rusted machine, the procession takes a few faltering steps forward, and then it is marching again, heading down the mountain
  3665. >Watching them go, something moves, deep in your heart
  3666. >You look into your bag, and see the faint white glow of the final vial
  3667. >The vial that you had retrieved from the Spring so many weeks ago and carried all this distance, the vial that had survived almost being lost, being stolen, being thrown bodily from the Stronghold
  3668. >Miraculously, through all your trials, it had remained unbroken.
  3669. "Wait," you say.
  3670. >The procession stops again. Anja looks back at you. Her eyes widen when she sees the vial.
  3671. >Wordlessly she steps to the side, bearing her back to you. The other bats chitter in curiosity, and in fear, but none move to stop you
  3672. >Hunter Killer lies insensate on Anja's back, his body drained nearly of all its blood.
  3673. >His wounds are great and terrible. But the power of the water is even more so.
  3674. >Gingerly you open his mouth and pour the water onto the back of his tongue, letting it drip down his throat
  3675. >The glowing liquid disappears down his gullet
  3676. >Immediately the water's magic begins to take effect. The air is filled with the quiet, wet sounds of flesh stitching itself, of blood pouring into Hunter Killer's veins.
  3677. >You don't even stay to watch it happen
  3678. >You're so tired now.
  3679. >So tired.
  3680. >You let the empty vial slip from your hoof. It breaks upon the ground.
  3681. >You walk away, vaguely aware of voices, the cries of elation as the bats watch their leader return to life
  3682. >So tired, but you have to keep moving.
  3683. >Hex and Nightstone, all the orphans, they're waiting for you, they need you
  3684. >You have to take another step.
  3685. >Another step.
  3686. >Another.
  3687. >You sink slowly to the ground, your vision darkening, your heart fluttering in your chest.
  3688. >You told them where to go, didn't you?
  3689. >They are smart. They are strong. They'll find their way.
  3690. >Briefly you see Anon's smiling face. You smile back. Then it all fades away.
  3691. >Rest now, Moss Moon.
  3692. >Your journey is almost done.
  3693.  
  3694.  
  3695. Part 25
  3696.  
  3697.  
  3698. >You wake from dreamless sleep.
  3699. >The blanket slides from your shoulders as you try to sit up, only to be laid low by a vicious pain in your side.
  3700. >"Whoa there, maiden," says a voice. "Looks like you cracked some ribs. You'd better take it easy."
  3701. >Wincing, you lie back on the pillows, looking up at the roof of the tent.
  3702. >Eventually the speaker walks into view - an old unicorn stallion, vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place him.
  3703. >"I have to admit, my grasp of medicine is not especially broad," he says. "I patched you up the best I could. You'll probably want to have someone professional look you over, once you're back in civilization."
  3704. "Where am I?"
  3705. >"Hunter Killer's new camp. We've set up here for the time being, while we go about rebuilding the Stronghold."
  3706. >You blink a few times, trying to clear the grogginess from your eyes. The unicorn pushes a bowl of water toward you.
  3707. "How long was I out?" you ask, after sating your thirst.
  3708. >"A few days. Not much has happened while you were sleeping. Buried our dead. Licked our wounds."
  3709. "Have you - seen any humans?" You clasp your hoof to your forehead, fighting back a wave of pain and nausea. "Ugh."
  3710. >"Not a one. It seems they all perished in the explosion. There aren't even any bones to pick. Rather disappointing, really."
  3711. >Your legs are shaking as you push yourself into a standing position
  3712. >You notice the various bandages affixed to your body, especially the broad one wrapped around your midsection, bracing your ribs
  3713. >Your bag is nowhere to be seen
  3714. >"Be careful now," the old unicorn cautions. "No use heading off in this condition."
  3715. "I'm fine," you say, as you stagger toward the tent's exit. "Thank - thank you." The words seem unnatural on your tongue.
  3716. >"It is the least I can do for you," the unicorn calls after you. "You did save him, after all."
  3717. >Out under the harsh sunlight, you see that the camp appears surprisingly ordered.
  3718. >Tents are set up in neat rows, equipment has been set up in hastily-constructed racks, and ponies are milling about in various states of dress, either going about orders or resting under canvas pavilions.
  3719. >You can feel many eyes alighting upon you as you stagger toward the biggest tent, the one that must obviously house Hunter Killer
  3720. >Your intuition proves correct when you approach the guards stationed outside
  3721. >"Halt, witch," a stallion says flatly, thumping his spear on the ground. "The Captain is at his exercises. He is not to be disturbed."
  3722. "I don't care what he's doing, I want to talk to him."
  3723. >The guard begins to protest, when a familiar grating voice sounds from within the tent.
  3724. >"Oh, just let her in, Holtz. I want her to see me in all my glory."
  3725. >You brush past the guard, even as he steps aside in deference
  3726. >The tent's interior is dim, lit only by brass oil lanterns imported from across the eastern sea, air smelling of sweet incense
  3727. >Hunter Killer reclines exuberantly on the floor, leaning into a pillow with his limbs splayed
  3728. >In the corner by his desk sits Anja, watching him with a faintly smug expression
  3729. >"Ahhh," sighs the Captain. "Nothing like a good stretch in the morning, yes?"
  3730. >He pauses briefly to dramatically run a hoof across the massive scar now sported by his stomach.
  3731. >"Behold," he says. "A warrior's wound, from which I have fully recovered. Thanks to you, of course."
  3732. "You're welcome."
  3733. >He rolls over onto his stomach, looking up at you with his bright yellow eyes, filled with almost child-like curiosity
  3734. >"I have to ask the obvious question - Why?"
  3735. >You glance over at Anja, who is now staring at you, just as expectant as Hunter Killer.
  3736. "I could say that I want your revolution to succeed, but…"
  3737. >He nods excitedly, waiting
  3738. "…I don't really care about that."
  3739. >Hunter Killer lets out a snort. "Then why?"
  3740. "Let's just say that I was was moved by your soldiers' love for you."
  3741. >His snort turns into a full belly laugh. "Really? Oh that's just absurd. But I can't deny it, they do love me. Especially after our great victory. Perhaps you, too, were just so impressed by my tactical genius that you could not allow me to pass from this mortal coil."
  3742. "Maybe so."
  3743. >"Very good." Hunter Killer leaps suddenly to his hooves, and makes his way over to his desk. "Listen up. Because of your service, I want to offer you a position. Battalion apothecary. Gerard has many talents, but he is a terrible doctor. I need someone who knows what they're doing. You would be patching up the soldiers, healing the sick, doing whatever it is that you do. You'll be able to serve with dignity, despite your… status."
  3744. >You consider it, for just a moment.
  3745. >"Well? Take it or leave it, this offer isn't going to come again."
  3746. "No thank you," you reply. "I have others I'm responsible for. Ponies I have to take care of."
  3747. >Hunter Killer squints at you in obvious irritation. "You know, it's bad luck to let a bound go free."
  3748. >Anja clears her throat.
  3749. >"But," he continues hurriedly, "I've already had enough bad luck to last a lifetime. How could I possibly have any more?"
  3750. >The Captain rummages in his desk, and pulls out a sealed roll of parchment.
  3751. >"Take this," he says, handing it over. "It's a writ of passage. It'll see you safely through our lands. I don't know how long it will last you, so my advice would be to take it and get as far away from the Asperi Dominion as you possibly can."
  3752. >You can't keep the surprise off your face as you accept his gift
  3753. >Perhaps the Captain is a stallion of honor after all
  3754. >You wince when a moment later your bag collides with your face
  3755. >"Great catch," says Hunter Killer. "There's some food and water in there for you. It should last you a few days."
  3756. "I take it you didn't find anything interesting when you were looking through my things?"
  3757. >"Not at all, really. Just a very large gemstone. Quite beautiful, actually."
  3758. "You have no right to take that," you fume. "That belongs to… to me."
  3759. >"Yes, well, our war chest is rather spare after this venture. I'm afraid I had to requisition it." Seeing the anger on your face, he continues. "Consider it hush money, in good faith. I won't ask you where you got it. Nor will I ask you the location of the Spring."
  3760. >You grit your teeth, but silently you accept the deal. At this point, you just want to get out of here as quickly as possible.
  3761. >"It was lovely to encounter you again, Moss Moon," Hunter Killer says. "I'm glad we could reach a mutual understanding, even a mutual benefit. Now let us go our separate ways." He points his hoof toward the tent flap. "I don't want to ever see you again."
  3762. >You nod to him, and to Anja, who returns the gesture, and then you are gone, stepping back outside into the harsh sunlight.
  3763.  
  3764.  
  3765. EPILOGUE
  3766.  
  3767. 3 Weeks Later
  3768.  
  3769. >Rain is falling in Hollow Shades.
  3770. >Through the trees glow the orange lights of little houses, where little bat ponies live, hidden in the forest.
  3771. >In her grandmother's old study, Moss Moon sits at the work table, making poultices for the village bats.
  3772. >Grandmother had been terribly angry when Moss Moon had shown up at her door, asking for lodging.
  3773. >She had been even angrier when Moss Moon had informed her that the orphans would be staying with them as well.
  3774. >Moss Moon had simply explained that she would never again be braving the trip to the Lunar Spring, unless the orphans were allowed to remain.
  3775. >Begrudgingly, Grandmother accepted her new tenants.
  3776.  
  3777. >The orphans occupy the majority of Moss Moon's time.
  3778. >Upon her arrival in Hollow Shades, she had found them quarantined in the militia barracks.
  3779. >They had been causing a great deal of trouble for the locals, stealing food from the market and eating fish from the ornamental ponds.
  3780. >"If they're not there to be eaten, why are they there at all?" one bewildered filly had asked her, after Moss Moon had arranged for their release.
  3781. >Now, after a few weeks, they seem to be adapting well enough to their new surroundings.
  3782. >Having spent their entire lives in a cave, they are endlessly fascinated by the outdoors.
  3783. >Some of the younger ones refuse to believe that they were not simply in just a bigger cave.
  3784. >Caring for them all is still nearly a full-time job, but the older foals help lighten the load.
  3785. >Hex, Nightstone and the others are getting older. They might even be getting their marks soon. Perhaps then they'd be ready to shoulder the bulk of the responsibilities.
  3786. >Until then, though, Moss Moon devotes herself to their care. Teaching them, feeding them, making sure they are clean and healthy.
  3787. >In what little spare time she has, she busies herself making simple medicaments for the villagers, selling liniments and potions for small profits.
  3788. >Even this simple business makes her more money than she ever did in the Stronghold.
  3789. >There's no time to read the old books, to research, to think about much of anything, really.
  3790. >But she still thinks about him.
  3791. >Every night, before she goes to sleep, she burns his face into her memory.
  3792. >She never wants to forget what he looked like. What he sounded like.
  3793. >The way he held her.
  3794. >The way it felt to love someone, and be loved in return.
  3795. >She knows she is ugly. That the other bats look at her with mild disgust at best. At least in Hollow Shades they will tolerate her presence. But she will never be accepted by them. She will always be alone.
  3796. >That doesn't hurt as much anymore, though.
  3797. >Because there was someone who accepted her for who she was.
  3798. >No matter how brief the time they shared, it was as if they had lived a lifetime together.
  3799. >Even if he was gone, his presence remained. In her mind. In her heart.
  3800. >It gave her a kind of strength that she'd never known she could have.
  3801. >She had always thought that strength came from pain, from suffering.
  3802. >She had never realized that strength could come from love as well.
  3803. >Moss Moon is exhausted from filling orders. Her eyelids flutter as she works, and she yawns widely, fangs catching the candlelight.
  3804. >Rain drums the windowsill outside.
  3805. >Just a nap. A small nap.
  3806. >She lays her head upon the pages of a book. A ponderous tome filled with knowledge, now purposed as a pillow.
  3807. >Resting her small, sturdy body against the table, she falls quickly into a deep slumber.
  3808. >Her dreams have always been vivid, but lately they have seemed even more colorful, more exuberant.
  3809. >Now in every dream she has wings, she can fly, she can soar -
  3810. >She sails above beautiful islands, vast snowy plains, farmland tinged golden by the afternoon.
  3811. >Every dream is beautiful, every dream is relaxing. The Goddess, Queen of Sleep, is watching over her, the ever-faithful servant.
  3812. >But the dreams are always empty of one thing. The one thing that would give her endless peace.
  3813. >Every night Moss Moon has prayed for the Goddess to grant her this one boon, to let her see him again, and every night she has been disappointed.
  3814. >Until tonight.
  3815. >When Moss Moon steps out into the forests of her dreaming, into the land of bright supernatural colors, her heart leaps when she sees him.
  3816. >Anon, tall and broad, standing by an oak tree, watching her with a smile on his face.
  3817. >It is the first time she's dreamed of him since he vanished.
  3818. >Immediately she bounds toward him, just as he runs to her.
  3819. >They join in a tight embrace.
  3820. >He feels so warm, so real.
  3821. >She doesn't want to let him go. But she wants to see his face.
  3822. >Moss Moon looks up at him, into his kind eyes, and feels his hand brush her cheek, scratch her ear. She shivers with delight.
  3823. >"Look, look Anon!" she says, beaming, spreading her wings wide.
  3824. >"They're amazing," he says, gently brushing his fingers over the thin membraneous skin. "Can I see you fly?"
  3825. >Utter joy fills her as she leaps into the air, flapping her wings, gliding from tree to tree. Anon laughs with her. Grins as he watches her pirouette.
  3826. >He embraces her again when she lands. Kisses her ear. "Beautiful," he says.
  3827. >"What do you want to do now?" Moss Moon asks, pressing her hooves into his shoulders, looking up once more into his face.
  3828. >"I want you to wake up," Anon says. His voice is thick with emotion.
  3829. >She is taken aback. "N-No," she says. "I - I don't want to wake up. You just got here."
  3830. >"Wake up, Moss Moon," says Anon.
  3831. >"No, please, no, I don't want to, Anon, please, stay with me, please -
  3832. >"Wake up - "
  3833. >Already she feels the dream breaking apart, the colors fading, the vision darkening.
  3834. >She begs. Please, Goddess, why? Please, let me stay with him.
  3835. >She didn't want to wake up again just holding her pillow, please -
  3836. >Rain, drumming the windowsill.
  3837. >Moss Moon's eyes flicker open. Tears run down her cheek. A choked sob.
  3838. >Then a hand, resting on her back.
  3839. >She spins in her chair, heart pounding in her chest.
  3840. >There he is. In the flesh.
  3841. >Anonymous, an utter mess, covered in soot and smoke and blood.
  3842. >But Anonymous, alive, and beside her once again.
  3843. >He smiles weakly down at her, as she throws herself against him, wrapping her forelimbs tight around his body, crying against his stomach.
  3844. >His hand alights gently on her head, fingers twining with her mane, his other arm sweeping her into a tight hug.
  3845. >For so long he had wandered through the darkest part of the Dreaming.
  3846. >Thinking he was forever lost.
  3847. >Then seeing the golden light, the golden dream of the one he loved.
  3848. >Followed it, until at last he stepped through to the other side. Emerged alive and breathing, at the side of his companion.
  3849. >"How did you find me?" she asks.
  3850. >"You showed me the way," he replies.
  3851. >They hold each other tightly. Two lovers, together again in the forest of green shadows.
  3852.  
  3853.  
  3854. THE END
  3855.  
  3856.  
  3857.  
  3858. * * *
  3859.  
  3860. And there you have it: "Moss Moon and the Lunar Spring". I sincerely hope this story entertained and inspired you the way it did me.
  3861.  
  3862. Original Pastebin links:
  3863. Part 1- https://pastebin.com/FULMhXmg
  3864. Part 2- https://pastebin.com/pNAxd8ZN
  3865. Part 3- https://pastebin.com/gU4HyZHM
  3866. Part 4- https://pastebin.com/BhE77wNy
  3867. Part 5- https://pastebin.com/F5MiqMug
  3868. Part 6- https://pastebin.com/v3BS4KwN
  3869. Part 7- https://pastebin.com/D38TUvFv
  3870. Part 8- https://pastebin.com/h1UDfWEZ
  3871. Part 9- https://pastebin.com/fejeke53
  3872. Part 10- https://pastebin.com/zkc7j7jH
  3873. Part 11- https://pastebin.com/GUKb7Cw0
  3874. Part 12- https://pastebin.com/Z7zBP3tz
  3875. Part 13- https://pastebin.com/4VfUejie
  3876. Part 14- https://pastebin.com/6xcMigdS
  3877. Part 15- https://pastebin.com/ZMAc7AEV
  3878. Part 16- https://pastebin.com/aNAhCGEm
  3879. Part 17- https://pastebin.com/T45ySdRV
  3880. Part 18- https://pastebin.com/qupwHama
  3881. Part 19- https://pastebin.com/EqFNwm3T
  3882.  
  3883. *NOTE* Remainder of the story is on a different pastebin because the author went on a 2-year hiatus and forgot the password to his original pastebin or something like that.
  3884.  
  3885. Part 20- https://pastebin.com/g3afKart
  3886. Part 21- https://pastebin.com/sqBgZGBL
  3887. Part 22- https://pastebin.com/2y281DFH
  3888. Part 23- https://pastebin.com/YgnNBAKB
  3889. Part 24- https://pastebin.com/qsiT7H70
  3890. Part 25- https://pastebin.com/muPjg8Sm
  3891. Epilogue- https://pastebin.com/mrwYwCBb

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