This collection of stories is brought to you by a Pastebin from 2012 (Pikeman)
https://pastebin.com/u/Pikeman

Part (2)
> Darkness, nothing but darkness
> you can’t move
> your head pounds in your skull and your body is sore
> are you dead?
> if this this the afterlife then dying SUCKS
> your other senses slowly begin come back into focus
> you feel a blindfold tied tightly around your eyes, and a cloth gag tied to your mouth
> your arms are bound behind your back again
> your lying on a metallic surface, you can feel a constant breeze on the skin of your face
> you’re outside? You’re moving?
> you're alive?
> why are you alive? Celestia made it pretty clear she wanted you dead
> but now you’re going… somewhere
> you’re getting tired of not knowing where you are
> you want your bow back
> you try to ask where you’re going, but all that comes out through the gag is a mumble
> the only answer is a quick jab into your gut, making you gasp for air
> “quiet you, we’re almost there”
> it sounded like one of the guards from earlier
> what did they want from you?
> they probably wouldn’t answer any questions even if you could ask them, so you spend the rest of the journey in silence
> eventually you feel your stomach shift as you begin to descend
> you were flying? How is that possible?
> oh right, these p0nies can do goddam MAGIC. they’re probably capable of anything.
> you feel your descent come to a stop and hear the sound of wooden wheels on gravel
> it seems you’ve arrived
> “Get up” the guard barks, grabbing the back of your collar and hoisting you unsteadily to your feet
> it’s hard to balance with the blindfold and your hands bound behind you, but you manage
> the air is cool on your skin, it’s silent except for  the sound of crickets in the distance and the movement of a few p0nies around you
> you guess it must be night
> “Move it” the guard orders, prodding you in the back
> you take a step forward, but stumble as your leg is caught on something
> unable to catch yourself with your hands behind you, you fall forward and land face first in the dirt
> I seems you ankles are bound together by a short length of chain.
> as awkwardly rise from the ground, you receive a kick to your side, sending you back into the dirt
> “get up filth, we don’t have all day”
> eventually you stagger back to your feet, and are prodded forward again
> you have to shuffle forward with short steps to avoid tripping, and being blindfolded doesn’t help
> your holders seem annoyed by your slow progress, they repeatedly jab you in the back, causing you to nearly fall again.
> you feel the dirt under your feet change to something more solid as you move forward
> It’s warmer here, and the cool breeze is gone
> you must be inside
> the air carries the faint smell of books and ink
> you were in a library?
> you desperately wish you could see where you were
> a guard to your left speaks up
> “where would you like me to put these ma’am?”
> “over there is the closet is fine, sir” a feminine voice responds
> wait, you recognize that voice
> It was Twilight Sparkle, Celestia’s apprentice
> oh man, what does she have planned for you?
> whatever it is it can’t be good
> you can hear one of the guards walk away to your left, and hear a small clatter as something is set down
> you would know that sound anywhere, that’s your quiver
> Dammit, your bow was right over there!
> It was so close, yet it might as well be miles away…
> “keep moving” the other guard orders, pushing you forward
> you reach a flight of stairs, and begin slowly and carefully working your way down
> without your sight it’s impossible to judge the height of each step
> eventually you reach the bottom and are directed across the room
> the guard orders you to stop and you feel him fiddling with the manacles binding your wrists
> “There we go,” he says “It’s not going anywhere now.”
> “Good, you’re dismissed.” Twilight responds
> as you hear the guard ascend the stairs, you feel your blindfold begin to come loose
> light fills your eyes as it comes off, making you squint and blink repeatedly
> as your vision clears, you see Twilight standing in front of you
> you appear to be in a bare basement, the walls and floor are made from smooth seamless wood
> It looks like the room is nestled within the roots of some gigantic tree
> Twilight looks at you, her lips curled in disgust
> “I suppose you’re wondering why you’re still alive”
> You’re still gagged, so you give a short grunt in response
> “At first, we were fine with just executing you and being done with it”
> the casual tone of her voice unsettles you, did your life really mean that little to her?
> “But,” she continues, “I realized that if you could make it over into our world, unintentionally or not, other humans probably could as well.”
> “I convinced Celestia that we needed to study you, learn your kind’s strengths and weaknesses, in case any other humans come here. So you were spared, for now”
> Great, so you were her scientific prisoner. And as soon as they were finished learned what they needed to know.
> you would be sent straight back to the chopping block
> she walks away and climbs up the stairs, leaving you sitting on the floor
> “We’ll start first thing in the morning”
> as the door closes behind her, the lights go out, plunging you into complete darkness.
> okay, you need to get out of here. NOW
> the guard seems to have attached another chain to the manacles on your wrists
> you feel your way along it until you reach the wall
> the chain leads to a metal ring embedded in the wood
> you turn your back, grabbing the ring with your hands, you pull with all your might
> it’s no good, you can’t get a solid grip with your hands bound together, and the thing is in there tight
> you doubt you could pull it out even if you were free
> you explore as much of the basement as you can while leashed
> it’s not much, the chain is only about 5 feet in length, you can’t even reach the center of the room
> with a sigh, you slump down against the wall, near the ring
> at least your last cell had a bed, here you’ll have to sleep on the floor
> being knocked unconscious must not be very restful, you’re feeling tired again.

Part (3)
> you were already awake when Twilight returned the next morning.
> the lights flick on as she enters, blinding you momentarily as your eyes adjust from the darkness
> that was probably the worst night of sleep in your life
> sleeping on the floor is hard enough, sleeping with your hands shackled behind you as well? Near impossible
> the fact you had no idea what Twilight planned to do to you certainly didn’t help
> your back is  completely stiff and your shoulders are cramped
> your gag has grown a foul taste and absorbed all the moisture in your mouth, leaving it dry and leathery
> as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, you see her levitating a plate, a glass of water, and a bucket behind her
> she stops in the middle of the room and floats the three items over to you
> the plate had a small loaf of bread on it, and the charred remains of a small fish. The bucket was empty
> how were you supposed to eat with your hands bound and your mouth gagged?
> you feel your manacles become weightless behind you, and your right hand pops free
> your gag is undone, and floats away
> you immediately snatch the glass and begin gulping down the water
> it’s warm and not very refreshing, but it’s still water.
> the glass is drained far more quickly than you would have liked, but you move on to the food
> you pick up the small loaf of bread and bite into it
> it’s stale and tasteless, you can also see a few patches of mold on the surface
> the fish isn’t any better. It was never cleaned and the outside is burnt black
> working around the bones you find a few edible patches, you wish you still had some water to wash away the taste
> finishing your meager meal, you realize you have an immense need to alleviate yourself
> you haven’t had the opportunity to go to the bathroom since you arrived here
> the purpose of the empty bucket quickly becomes clear
> you wish twilight would give you some privacy while you do your business but alas, she does not
> after you finish, twilight levitates the bucket, plate and glass away
> the gag floats back over, and is forced back into your mouth, filling with that foul taste
> your right arm is pulled back behind you, and your wrist is snapped back into the manacles
> “lets begin.” Twilight says, sitting herself down in the center of the room, well beyond the reach of your chain
> the time you feared is upon you. what was she planning to do? Torture? Experiments? Dissection?
> her horn becomes surrounded by a purple aura as she closes her eyes in concentration
> you cringe and turn away, expecting some horrible fate
> but after several seconds, nothing seems to happen
> you turn back to Twilight, she still sitting there with her eyes closed, horn aglow
> was she preparing something? Maybe it wasn’t working. You certainly don’t feel anyth-
> wait
> you feel something in the back of your mind, just on the border of your subconscious
> you might just be imagining it…
> No, it’s definitely there
> It’s some sort of presence, slowly growing in the back of your head
> Dammit, it was her! She’s in your mind!
> You focus your will, trying to force her out of your thoughts
> She lashes out with your own mind, and the two of you become locked in a battle of wills
> you put up the best defense you can muster, but she’s slowly and inevitably working past it, forcing herself deeper into your brain
> there’s nothing you can do as she begins to access the contents of your mind
> your thoughts become filled with images and memories as she delves deeper into your consciousness
> some of your earliest memories flash before you
> your parents
> your brother
> your home
> she doesn’t pay much attention to them, only giving each memory a quick glance before moving on to the next
> your first birthday party
> your first day of school
> your first friend
> your- no, 
> not that one
> you don’t get that one
> you clench your eyes shut and bite down hard on your gag, focusing all your will on shielding that one particular memory
> for a moment you force her away, regaining control of your thoughts
> she quickly recuperates and attacks again, her will colliding into yours with the strength of a freight train
> your defense is smashed and brushed aside as she begins reading the memory you fought to protect

Part (4)
> you draw the bow back to your chin, looking down the arrow shaft to your target
> you focus on the bullseye, imagining the arrow striking the target in your mind
> the taught bow string digs deep into your sore fingers, the muscles in your back protesting against the force of the bow
> you picture the arrow flying over and over in your head, willing it to the center
> the string suddenly slips from your fingers, sending the arrow sailing over the target and out of view
> you yelp in pain as the string slaps against your arm, striking the bruises from similar incidents
> with a frustrated yell you throw the bow to the ground
> you’ve been at this for days now, and still no progress
> you slump down onto the grass and begin nursing your red, swollen arm
> eventually your hear familiar footsteps behind you
> you know who it is without turning around
> “What’s wrong, son?” asks deep, warm voice
“I hate archery dad,” you sigh, “I can’t ever hit the target and I just keep hurting myself…”
> your father crouches down beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder
> “I know it’s hard, but keep at it, you’ll get better eventually”
“But why?” you protest, “Why do I have to learn how to shoot a bow?”
>“you did say you wanted to go hunting with me next year.”
“I could just use a gun. You don’t have to learn how to shoot a gun.”
> Your father shakes his head
> “That’s exactly the point, guns make it too easy. They do the work for you, but you need to do this yourself”
“Why?”
>“If you let something or someone do your work for you, you will grow to depend on it. You need to rely on and have confidence in your own abilities and strengths.”
> “If you don’t, you’ll be limited by who and what are around you. You’ll be a prisoner of the wills of others, and your future will be out of your hands.”
> “But if you can rely on yourself, you’ll never be helpless no matter where you are, and you’ll be free to shape your own destiny.”
> Your father turns you toward him, his expression serious but kind
> “Listen to me anon, that is the most precious thing you have. Never let anyone take away your freedom to choose your own fate. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I think I understand.”
>“good,” your father plants a small kiss on your forehead before rising to his feet, “Dinner will be ready in about an hour, do you want to come inside?”
“No,” you reply, picking your bow back up from the ground, “I’ll stay out here for a while.”
> heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe
> you move at a crouch, placing each step carefully to avoid any twigs or leaves in your path
> the slight sounds of your movement are masked by the chorus of birds, insects, and animals in the trees
> the air is pure, filled with the scent of pine and recent rain
> your jacket is damp form the new morning dew, the sun just breaking free from the horizon
> you keep your attention focused on your steps, any snap or rustle would instantly give you away
> heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe
> you come across a small clearing in the woods
> the rays of sunlight are just beginning to clear the treetops, illuminating the site in golden rays and dispelling the thin morning fog.
> in the center is a whitetail deer, a doe to be precise
> her head I bent down, sleepily eating small tufts of thick, green grass
> you’ve been following her for hours, and now she’s finally within your grasp
> you carefully creep around to her side to get a better shot
> you slowly reach over your shoulder to your quiver, grabbing one of your broadhead arrows
> you mentally run through all the things your father taught you
> one finger above the arrow, two below
> aim up, then draw
> loose grip on the bow
> pull back to the anchor point
> thumb tucked under the cheekbone
> smooth release
> satisfied you remember everything, you nock the arrow to the string and bring the bow to full draw
> you wince as the arrow slides across the bow, making a small slithering sound
> The doe’s head shoots up, instantly on alert
> you hold your breath as her ears swivel around, sensitive to the slightest noise
> the muscles in your back begin to tighten from the strain of the bow, begging for release
> you force down to urge to fire. if you shoot now, she’ll run out of the way as soon as you loose
> her eyes scan the trees around her, stopping momentarily on your position
> you fear you have been spotted, but her gaze moves on
> satisfied that there is no danger, the doe warily lowers her head, resuming eating.
> you wait a few moments to be sure of your aim
> you fire, the bow making a soft *twang* as the arrow flies forth
> before it even impacts, you know the shot was perfect
> the arrow strikes the center of her heart
> she tries to bolt, only making it to the end of her first bound before her legs give out and she tumbles to the ground
> you emerge from the foliage, pride swelling in your chest.
> You did it! Your first kill!
> you enter the clearing and crouch down next to the deer
> as you inspect the animal, you feel something inside you haven’t felt before
> you realize that this is the first thing you’ve done completely yourself
> you succeeded because of your own ability and determination
> you have the power to shape your own fate, you can determine your own future
> the thought solidifies into a feeling of pure confidence and joy, filling your body with strength
> is this what your dad was talking about? Is this the freedom that he spoke of?
> you hold the feeling tight in your heart, determined to never let it go
> your destiny is in your own hands, and you promise to never let anyone take that from you
> your vision slowly returns as the memory fades away
> your thoughts come back under your control as Twilight’s presence recedes from your mind
> the aura around her horn dissipates as she opens hers eyes
> you glare at her, trying to convey all of your hate through your gaze
> She forced herself into the most private part of a person, rifling through your memories like a photo album
> that was your most precious memory, the day you seized control of your life
> she had no right to see it
> she returns your glare with a look of disgust, before rising and ascending the stairs
> she stops at the top and turns toward you
> “You’re revolting”
> her words are lined with venom and malice, there is no sympathy
> the door shuts behind her, again plunging you into darkness

Part (5)
> how long have you been down here?
> it’s impossible to tell the passage of time in the darkness
> you never see sunlight, you can’t even use your hands to count heartbeats
> the only reference you have are the meager meals twilight brings you
> but even that is unreliable, your hunger and thirst grow between each meal, making each interval seem longer than the last
> maybe they were getting longer? You don’t know
> you can only guess you’ve been down here close to a week
> your hair has become greasy and matted
> your clothes reek, you’re in desperate need of a shower
> the manacles have rubbed off the skin of your wrists and ankles, leaving them raw and bloodied
> you’ve fallen into a routine
> Twilight would enter the basement, the lights painfully blinding your eyes
> she would give you the same meal of moldy bread, burnt fish, and a single glass of water
> you would relieve yourself into the empty bucket, and she would rebind you
> and then she would force herself into your mind
> you still fought her, you resisted every time in the hope you could keep her out 
> but it was always in vain, she pushed your will aside with casual ease
> she would begin poring through your memories, looking for anything useful on humans
> memories of friends or family were only glanced, before being quickly discarded
> to her they were useless, inconsequential, irrelevant
> she didn’t want to learn about your feelings or thoughts, she only wanted information
> she started with your earliest memories, moving up chronologically with each session
> last time was only a few years from the present, it wouldn’t be long until she was finished
> and then she would have no use for you
> you hated being trapped here
> you hated being left to go mad in the dark
> you hated the constant cramps and pains of your bindings
> you hated being fed the same horrible meal
> you hated the indignity of using that bucket in front of her
> you hated how she invaded your mind, how she disregarded your fondest memories as meaningless
> but above all else, over all the indignities and pains you’ve suffered
> you hate that you can do nothing about it
> you hate that you are helpless
> that is what she really took from you
> she took away your freedom
> she took away your future
> she took away your ability to choose, your ability to steer your own fate
> that was the most precious thing you had, you guarded it with all your heart
> and she took it away, her and that damned Celestia took that simple yet elegant idea away from you
> and left you sitting in the dark, waiting
> the lights come back on, your eyes burning in pain as they adjust
> you’re confused, it was too soon after the last meal for another.
> your curiosity rises as you hear multiple sets of hooves on the stairs
> this was new, Twilight never came down with anyone else
> you get a better look at the new p0nies as the reach the bottom of the stairs
> there were five of them, all mares. one was a unicorn like Twilight, except with a pristine white coat and a curled, dark purple mane
> two of them were pegasi, one with a  yellow coat and a long pink mane, the other was cyan blue with a short rainbow mane
> the last two were normal p0nies. one had a light orange coat, her blonde mane tied in a p0nytail (go figure) and wore a stetson
> the other was all bubblegum pink with an absurdly curly mane, she bounced around the group, humming a simple tune
> “Well,” Twilight said, gesturing to where you were sitting, “you all wanted to see. Here it is.”
> ‘It’, she always referred to you as ‘It’.
>never ‘anon’, or ‘him’, or even ‘the human’
> You were just an ‘It’ to her
> the white unicorn scrunches her face, covering her snout with one hoof
> “My word! That thing reeks!”
> you give her an angry grunt
> of course you smell! You haven’t bathed in over a week!
> suddenly, the pink mare is inches from your face, inspecting your features
> holy fuck she’s fast, you didn’t even see her move
> she pulls away, giggling into her hoof
> “It looks silly!”
> Your anger swells. As if your regular imprisonment wasn’t enough, now you’re some freak show display.
> “Pinkie!” Twilight shouts, grabbing the pink mare’s tail with a magical field and pulling her back into the group
> “Stay away from it! It eats flesh!”
> So the all pink p0ny is named Pinkie. This world has no originality
> The yellow pegasus lets out a small “Eep!” at Twilight’s outburst and shies away fearfully behind the others 
>Pinkie’s bubbly demeanor seems to calm down a bit as well, her bouncing stops and her head droops slightly
> The orange mare shakes her head and speaks up
> “A feller who chooses to eat critters? That just ain’t right”
> she glares at you with barely constrained hate, as if she would like nothing other than to reduce you to paste right there.
> the other p0nies have similar expressions
> the white unicorn looks at you like you’re some sort of mistake, like your very existence is an affront to the world
> Pinkie keeps her distance, looking at you with a mixture of fear and mild curiosity
> Twilight has the same look of disgust she’s worn since you arrived
> the yellow pegasus huddles behind the others, shielding her face in her hooves
> lastly your sight moves onto the cyan Pegasus
> her expression is neutral and impassive, but her eyes…
> oh sweet lord, her eyes…
> her eyes are filled with… pity?
> you see in her a great amount of sadness and grief, tentatively held back by the force of will
> you realize that she’s the only one who doesn’t just look at you, but actually meets your gaze with hers
> you realize she looks at you and she sees not a monster, but a person
> she sees a man imprisoned and sentenced to death by those who don’t understand him. 
> and you see it’s breaking her heart

Part (6)

> you sit on the ground, grimacing as Twilight again forces herself back into your mind
> It’s been nine sessions, roughly three days since Twilight brought the others to see you
> you know this session will be the last
> the memories brought forth are only a few months old now
> soon you’ll be at the present
> there’s a small comfort in knowing your trial is near an end
> but it’s overshadowed by the dread of what’s to come
> she moves through each memory quickly, most are useless to her
> but to you, each brings another wave of pain and grief
> this was your life flashing before you. your friends, your family, your home
> your heart aches as you realize you will never see any of it again
> there was so much you still wanted to do
> there were things that were never said
> things you never experienced
> you wanted to be a dad…
 
> Just a few weeks left now
> It was all just so unfair
> you didn’t choose to come here
> you never got a chance to explain yourself
> you never got a chance to fight back
> it was always out of your hands
> you were condemned to this the moment you arrived
> these p0nies, this WORLD, robbed your life and your future from you
 
>only a few days left
> you didn’t want to die this way
> you didn’t want to die caged and helpless
> you wanted to die fighting, struggling
> you wanted to die with that precious feeling in your heart
> that thing your father taught you to cherish
> that thing you protected and cherished all your life
> you wanted to die with fire in your veins and strength in your limbs
> you wanted to knowing it was your actions that brought you there
> you wanted to die FREE
> but you weren’t free
 
> that fateful day flashes before you again
> your arrival into Equestria
> fleeing from the guards
> breakfast with Celestia
> your sentence
> your journey here
> your imprisonment under Twilight
> your days spent in the dark
> and then your memories were over
> Twilight’s presence leaves your mind
> “I guess we’re done then” she says, standing up
> you don’t respond
> even if you could speak, there’s nothing you would say
> she turns away and ascends the stairs, the lights going out as she leaves the basement
> you sit there in the darkness, alone with your thoughts
> you wonder if you’ll be remembered back home
> you never did anything truly noteworthy
> but you did make an impact on your world, you had friends and your family loved you
> maybe they’ll tell stories
> maybe your brother will marry that girl he’s been dating for so long
> they made a good couple, they would definitely have plenty of kids
> you wonder what they would look like, would they have your mother’s blue eyes?
> maybe your brother would tell them stories about their long lost uncle anon
> he could tell them about all the times you pranked your father together when you were little
> or the time you both slept in the igloo you built yourselves one winter
> you sit there in the dark, reminiscing on all that you’ve lost
>imagining all that might be
>and mourning all that you will never see

Part (7)

> Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear something upstairs
> A faint, slow rhythmic thumping
> It sounds familiar, but you can’t quite place it…
> Music, there was music upstairs
> Why were they playing music?
> You strain your ears, focusing on the faint noise
> Yup, definitely music 
> The music goes on for a couple hours, changing songs every couple of minutes
> Occasionally you make out the sounds of laughter
> So there was a party upstairs?
> A party for what?
> Were they celebrating your imminent demise?
> No, that’s not right. You recognize the melody of this next song
> It was “Happy Birthday”
> So it was a birthday party upstairs
> You find it a bit ironic, celebrating birth on the eve of your execution
> You lean back against the wall, listening to the faint melodies come and go
> You’re interrupted as the lights flash on, stinging your pupils
> The music is loud and clear for a moment, before the closing basement door cuts it off again
> Great, Twilight’s back. What could she possibly want?
> You’re surprised to see it’s not Twilight descending the stairs
> It’s that cyan pegasus with the rainbow mane from a few days ago
> she keeps glancing behind her as she quietly works her way down, as if worried someone is following her
> reaching the bottom, she turns to look at you, her eyes filled with the same grief as before
> “Hey.” she says, taking a few tentative steps toward you
> “You can understand me, right? You can speak? My name is Rainbow Dash”
> Of course, the pink pony is named ‘Pinkie’, and the one with the rainbow mane is named ‘Rainbow’.
> The names here are terrible
> That white unicorn was probably named ‘Ivory’ or ‘Milk’
> “Look,” she continues, “I know you probably don’t trust me, but believe me when I say I want to help you.”
> She takes a few steps forward, now within the radius of your chain
> “Do you trust me?” she asks, her eyes pleading
> You grunt and nod in affirmation
> “Okay,” she says, sounding relieved “Can I remove your gag?”
> You nod and turn around, allowing her to reach the back of your head
> You feel her grab it in her teeth, and shortly after the cloth is pulled away
> You turn back to her, only a few feet away
> It’s been so long since you spoke, the movements feel strange and foreign in your mouth
“Why?”
> “Because I don’t just know what you are, I also understand what you are” She explains
> “I know the difference between a carnivore and a monster. An… old friend taught me the difference a long time ago.”
> She becomes solemn and distant, lost in her own thoughts
> Another burst of laughter from upstairs snaps her back to attention
> “Listen, I can’t stay here long, I have to get back to the party before I’m missed. But I can get you out of here.”
“What? How?”
> “I spiked the punch bowl upstairs. Twilight’s a real lightweight, so she’ll be out like a candle all night”
> “Also,” she continues, reaching behind her into the fold of her wing, “I was able to swipe this while everyp0ny was distracted”
> She produces a small iron key, placing it on the floor between you
> Your eyes go wide at the sight of it. That was the key to your freedom!
“What are you waiting for then? Get these things of me!”
> “Not yet” she says, her expression growing serious, “I need you to do something for me first”
> What? What could she want from you while you’re imprisoned like this?
> “I need you to promise you won’t come after any of my friends. Twilight included.”
> “I let you go and you leave. You don’t seek revenge, you don’t ever come back. You just leave and go live your life”
> You can’t help but feel outraged at her demand. Did she have any idea what you’ve been through down here?
> You’ve been humiliated, violated, and starved. And now she’s asking you to just move on?
> Reluctantly, you realize you have no choice but to agree
“Alright, fine. I promise”
> She narrows her eyes, searching your expression for any signs of deceit
> “Alright then.” she says, apparently satisfied
> She grabs the key in her mouth and moves behind you
> You sigh in relief as the manacles drop away from your ankles and wrists
> You painfully and slowly rise to your feet, working through days of constant cramps and discomfort
“Thank you. What do we do now?”
>”Now, I have to get back to the party, I’ve been down here far too long already.”
> “You stay down here for now, wait for an hour or two after the music stops to make sure no p0ny is still around, then you’re free to go”
“Alright, got it” you affirm as Rainbow moves to the stairs
> She stops on the first step, looking back at you
> “You know, I never did learn your name”
“Anon”
> “Well then, goodbye Anon, and good luck.”
> The party continues upstairs for about another hour
> you pass the time stretching, reveling in the ability to move your limbs freely again
> Eventually the music upstairs ends. 
> It won’t be long now, you’ll finally get out of here
> The next hour is the longest of your life as you wait until the coast is clear
> When you think enough time has passed, you creep your way up the stairs
> You wince as a few of the steps creak under your weight, but you seem to be undetected
> At the top of the stairs, your press your ear against the door, listening for the slightest noise
> Hearing nothing, you push open the door and step outside
> You find yourself in a small, deserted library, the walls lined with bookshelves filled to the brim
> In the center is a large circular table with a wooden equine statue in the middle
> This room was definitely the site of a party, confetti covers the floor and several punch glasses rest on the table
> A long banner hangs on the wall, with ‘Happy Birthday Twilight’ written in large bold letters
> And on the floor lies the purple unicorn herself
> She’s sprawled on her back, mouth hanging open and snoring slightly
> First things first though, you want your bow back
> Remember the instructions Twilight gave the guard on the day you arrived, you make your way over to the nearby closet
> You open the doors and begin rummaging through multiple sets of dresses, saddles, and boots
> Finally you find your bow, arrows, and knife tucked in the back
> You give your belongings q quick glance over, checking for damage
> Satisfied with their condition, you sling your bow and quiver over your shoulder and attach the knife sheath to your belt
> With your weapons back in your possession, you turn your attention back to the sleeping Twilight
> You hate her
> You hate her and Celestia so much
> They tried to take your life from you
> They tried to take your future from you
> And they didn’t even care
> Look at her! She partied on the eve of your death!
> Your rage builds as you watch her sleep
> You meant nothing to her
> You were just an ‘It’ to her
> She felt no remorse
> Why should you?
> Your hand falls to your knife, sliding the blade from its sheath
> You wanted to hurt them both, you wanted them to SUFFER for what they did to you
> For what they were going to do to you
> For what they tried to take from you
> You remember when Celestia introduced Twilight to you
> You saw the way she looked at her, loving, motherly
> You knew Celestia loved Twilight dearly
> Hurting Twilight would hurt her too
> It would be easy
> Oh, it would be so easy
> You crouch down next to her sleeping form, raising the knife high in your hand
>She deserved it
>You know she deserved it
>You could do it, it would be so easy!
> You hold the knife over her chest, hand shaking with anger
> come on, come on, DO IT
> You try to bring it down, you try with all your might the plunge the blade into her
> But you can’t. As much as you want to, as much as she deserved it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it
> You won’t betray Rainbow
> You won’t become the monster they think you are
> You’re better than this, you’re better than them
> With a heavy sigh, you lower the knife, rising to your feet
> You walk to the center of the room and stand over the wood table
> With the knife, you strike the wooden surface over and over
> You want them to know, you want them to know you had the chance and didn’t take it
> You want them to know they were wrong
> Satisfied with your work, you sheath the blade back to your belt
> You open the front door and enter the cool night, leaving a message etched into the table
 
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWILIGHT
	-ANON

Part (8)

> As you leave the Library behind you, you break into a run
> You need to get as far away as possible before she discovers you’re gone
> Despite the situation, you can’t keep your face from splitting into a wide grin
> It felt good to run, to be able to move freely once again
> You breathe in fresh, cool night air as it blows against your face
> Inside your chest you feel that familiar warmth, that precious feeling of power of capability you lacked these past days returns
> Free, free, FREE! You were finally free!
> You plan and doing everything you can intend to keep it that way
>And that started with getting out here
> You took stock of your surroundings as you sprinted through the empty streets, lit only by the occasional lamppost
> You were in a small town, or a village by the look of it
> The buildings were quaint and cozy, with simple wooden exteriors and thatched roofs
> Although some of the building’s you passed looked strange, almost comical
> One resembled a massive merry- go-round, while another looked like a giant gingerbread house
> Eventually the buildings come to an end, and you find yourself running along a dirt path
> You realize you should get off the road.  You were lucky you didn’t pass any p0nies while in town, but that wouldn’t last forever
> Deciding this is as good a spot as any, you vault over a nearby rail wood fence, entering an apple orchard
> The lights of the village have faded into the distance, the only illumination comes from the full moon, casting everything in a pale white light.
> You continue running as you weave between the trees
> At the other end of the orchard, you leap over another fence, entering a natural forest
> You’re forced to slow down as you work your way through the foliage
> Most would be uncomfortable running through a forest at night, but not you
> The woods are like a second home to you. You’ve spent your entire life hunting and camping in the forests near your home
> You feel safe hidden beneath the canopy of the branches, this is your element, your domain.
> You begin to recognize the familiar sounds of wildlife, the small hooting of owls, mice scurrying in the grass, the distant chorus of frogs.
> You continue your flight throughout the night, climbing hills and crossing ravines, working your way ever deeper into the forest
> You inevitably have to rest. You come to a stop near a small stream as the first rays of dawn begin peeking over the horizon.
> You kneel in the damp grass near the edge of the stream and bring your head down to the surface
> You drink to your heart’s content, feeling the soothing water wash down your raspy throat
> You sit back with a content sigh, bringing your legs up to your chest
> You watch the sun rise into the sky, ushering in a new day
> After a short rest, you feel ready to continue
> You rise to your feet and set off at a leisurely pace
> You must be miles from Twilight by now, no need to rush
> You follow the river upstream, you don’t have anything to carry water in, so you’ll have to stay close
> The forest around you comes to life as the sun rises, birds begin to sing in the trees and squirrels chatter noisily nearby
>  As the sun nears the height of its climb, you come across a low cliff face, about 20 feet in height
> The stream you’ve been following is fed by a pond, formed under a waterfall from the top of the cliff
> Investigating the cliff, you find a large, mostly dry alcove hidden behind the falling water
> You think this would be a pretty good place to make camp, it’s well protected from the elements and hidden from any prying eyes
> It’s high time you started getting set up
> Keeping the cave’s location in mind, you head out along the cliff face
> Eventually, you find what you’re looking for in the debris of a small landslide
> Digging through the small rocks, you produce several pieces of dark flint
> On the way back to the waterfall, you gather an armful of tinder and dry wood
> Striking your steel knife against the flint, you sent sparks into a small pile of bark and wood shavings
> As the sun begins to set, turning the sky into a various shades of red and gold, you sit across a cozy fire, roasting two squirrels over the flames
> You weren’t a fan of squirrel, what little meat they had was stringy and nearly tasteless
> But until you became more familiar with your surroundings, learning the locations of clearings and local game trails, it was the best you could do.
> You stare into the fire, watching the gentle glow of the embers and the dance of the flames
> You feel… good. About what you did
> About what you didn’t do
> It would probably come to bite you in the ass someday, but you’d deal with that later
> It still made you proud though
> You were treated like a monster for so long you nearly became one, but you didn’t give in to yourself
> You were still in control, you still shaped your own fate
> You were still free
>The next morning you exit the cave, arching your back and stretching your arms above your head
> Sleeping on stone wasn’t much of an improvement over wood, but at least you weren’t chained up
> A thin mist weaves between the trees, the silence broken only by the nearby waterfall
> You add some kindling to the smoking remnants of the fire, coaxing the flames back to life from the coals
> After eating what’s left of the two squirrels from last night, you make your way down to the pond for a drink, but stop when you glimpse your reflection is the water
> Holy crap, you looked terrible. Your hair was oily and tangled in a thick mat on your head
> Your face still sported a large bruise from your capture, and your chin was covered in the thin beginnings of a patchy beard
> A quick sniff reminds you that you haven’t bathed or changed clothes in over a week
> You strip down to your boxers and dunk your clothes in the water, using your hands to wash out as much of the smell as possible
> After that’s done, you hang your clothes on a tree to dry before swimming out into the center of the pond
> It felt good to swim, the cool water massaged and loosened the stressed muscles on your back and shoulders
> No matter how much you stretched or tried to relax, your back was still in pain from the cramped position of your imprisonment.
> You hoped there wasn’t any permanent damage
> After a short swim, you begin scrubbing your scalp with your fingers
> Eventually your hair begins to untangle and come loose, flowing freely in the water
> You wish you had some soap, but this will have to do.
> After getting as clean as you reasonably can, you climb out of the water and retrieve your skinning knife
> The large blade is awkward to shave with, and working without a mirror is only going to make things harder.
> You manage to clean off your beard without slicing open your neck, but you still suffered several painful nicks in the process.
 
> Putting your clothes back on and stringing your bow, you head west into the forest in search of your next meal.
>After a few hours of sneaking and lurking through the foliage, you find suitable prey
> A small rabbit, munching on the thick green grass of a small clearing
> You crouch down, slowly working your way close for an easier shot
> Hunting rabbit was always a delicate operation, you need to put it down cleanly and quickly
> Most people didn’t know it, but rabbits could really scream
> A wounded rabbit would let out a piercing cry of anguish and pain audible for miles, sending every animal in range into hiding for hours, making any further hunting impossible
> The shot had to be perfect
> A twig snaps under your foot
> Oh god dammit
> The hare’s head shoots up, and it’s off running in a flash
“Oh no you don’t you little bastard, I am NOT having squirrel again!”
>You take off, running deeper into the woods after the rabbit
> You chase your quarry for nearly thirty minutes, the scenery slowly changing around you
> It’s almost as if you’ve transitioned from a forest to a jungle
> The ground becomes soggy and muddy, ferns and vines grow more and more prevalent
> The trees are gnarled and twisted, their trunks forming strange visages
> Their branches intertwine into a thick canopy above you, blocking out the sun and producing a claustrophobic environment
> A growing sense of unease forms in your stomach
> This place doesn’t feel right, there’s something subtlety wrong about it.
> But you can’t put your finger on why, the reason drifts on the edge of your subconscious, just barely out of reach
> You push these thoughts out of your mind, you have a rabbit to catch and you’ll be damned if you let it get away.
> You come to a stop as you spy your prey sitting atop mossy log. It doesn’t look like it sees you
> You assume a shooting stance and draw your bow
> You might not hit a vital organ from this distance, but you’ve had enough of this chase, to hell if it screams or not
> You release the arrow, sending it streaking toward you target
> It strikes the rabbit with a loud *CHINK*, the arrow bouncing off harmlessly
“…What?”
>The rabbit just continues sitting there, completely still
> You take a few steps forward, but the rabbit still doesn’t react
> As you get closer, you’re shocked at what you see
> It’s not a rabbit at all, it’s an expertly carved statue, completely lifelike down to the fur
> Perhaps too lifelike…
> oh shit… could it be? No, those don’t exist. They’re just mythical!
> The unease in your stomach solidifies into pure dread as you suddenly realize what’s wrong with these woods
> It’s deathly silent. No bugs, no birds. No noise at all
> Nothing but silence
> You have to get out of here
> You have to get out of here NOW
> You take off at a sprint back to your camp
> As the trees and bushes whizz by, you get the feeling you’re being watched
> Occasionally you hear the rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig as something gives chase
> You press on faster, desperate to get away
> Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpse a patch of dark green scales
> You slam your eyes shut, skidding to a halt
> You can hear the… whatever it is lurking nearby
> You reach over your shoulder, grabbing an arrow and nocking it on the string
> You hear the creature circling you, slithering and hissing softly
> Sweat drips from you brow as you clench your eyes shut, resisting the urge to look, to see what hunts you
> You strain your ears to listen, trying to pinpoint exactly where the creature is
> Your hands grow sweaty and your heart hammers in your chest
> The beast continues to circle you, growing closer with every rotation
> You recall everything your father taught you about blind shooting
>“Relax son, stay calm and don’t try to force it. Trust your instincts and fire when it feels right.”
> You force yourself to take a deep breath, exhaling slowly and willing your nerves to settle
> You relax your muscles, taking a calm position
> You stop straining your ears, trusting your subconscious to sort out the location when the time comes
> You take a few more long, calming breathes, slowing your heartbeat, clearing your mind
> You wait for the perfect moment…
> Now
> You pivot your body, drawing and firing the bow in one fluid motion, allowing years of practice and experience to guide your hands.
> You’re rewarded with a loud *SQUAWK* and the sound of something large thrashing on the ground
> You open your eyes
>The creature is some sort of giant snake, it has small leathery wings and the head of a chicken
> It rolls and writhes on the ground, hissing and squawking in anger, it’s left wing pinned to it’s side by your arrow
> You drop your bow and quickly draw your knife, lunging towards the creature
> You tackle it and try to pin it into the ground, driving the knife deep into it’s neck
> Blood pours from the wound as the creature shrieks in pain
> It’s body writhes and rolls under you, trying to shake you off
> You hold tight, it’s movements becoming weak and sluggish as blood loss begins to kick in
> Eventually it stops moving and you rise to your feet, your hands coated in blood
> You’re going to need another bath after this
>That night you sit at the fire, roasting a slab of scaly flesh over the flames as you dig into an already cooked piece
> Kind of tastes like mix between chicken and snake. Not bad
> You suppress as small shudder as you recall the day’s events
> You got lucky today, you won’t last long here if you continue to fight things like that all the time
> Lesson learned. Do not go west. West is bad. West is very bad

Part (9)

>You stare up at the night sky as the fire slowly recedes into the glowing coals
> You search the stars for the familiar constellations your father taught you long ago
> It was a forlorn endeavor, the stars changed position every night. There was no Big Dipper, Orion, or even a north star.
> But you still looked for them, you still scanned the heavens for those familiar shapes, hoping for some small piece of the home you lost
> And every night you were greeted by another alien sky, another reminder of where you were.
> You’ve been living in the forest for two weeks now
> For the first week, you would occasionally glimpse a pegasus flying through the air above you, sending you diving for cover
> Even from the ground you could make out their white coats and the gleam of golden armor.
> They never found your camp, and the sightings became less and less frequent as the days went by
> Eventually they stopped altogether, either giving up the search or looking elsewhere
> You should have been glad. You escaped. You were alive.
> But that was it. You were just alive.
> You knew you could survive out here indefinitely, and without a dedicated search effort you would never be found by those ponies
> And while you were glad you avoided death, you now realized you have to face life here
> You likely were never going to go back home, but you mourned that long ago while chained in the dark
> What you dreaded was the future. You would live out the rest of your days here. Just hunting and surviving. Day after day. Alone with your thoughts.
> With a heavy sigh you rise to your feet, heading inside for some sleep.
>You wake up to the familiar sight of the stone ceiling
> Sunlight spills through the cave opening, illuminating your surroundings
> You groan and roll over, trying to get as comfortable as possible
> Your built a makeshift bed after the first week by piling animal furs over a foundation of fresh cedar branches.
> I wasn’t a proper mattress, but it was surprisingly comfy. Certainly better than stone
> You bury your face in your arms. You don’t want to get up. What was the damn point anymore?
> Yeah, you were free. But free to do what? To hunt and forage until your body grows weak with age and you no longer have the strength to feed yourself?
> No, you weren’t free. This damn world was your prison. You escaped death only to be condemned to exile. There were no other options, no other paths, no other choices.
> A loud growling from your stomach reminds you of your hunger
> You force yourself to your feet. At least your back didn’t hurt anymore
> You open a small rabbit-skin pouch near your bed, reaching inside and helping yourself to a small handful of raspberries you found yesterday
> After your meager breakfast, you sling your quiver over your shoulder and grab your bow before heading outside
>It doesn’t take long for you to find suitable prey.
> You’ve learned the ins and outs of these woods, becoming familiar with the animal’s habits and preferences
> You still avoid the western part of the forest. Who knows what other monstrosities lurk there.
> A turkey meanders between the trees, oblivious to your presence a few meters away.
> Hunting has been second nature to you for years. You could have done this in your sleep
> You draw back the bow and release perfectly, the broadhead flying forth in a clean arc
> The turkey is struck in the side of its head, falling to the ground with only a small *thump*
> As you begin to rise to collect your kill, you hear a loud flapping noise above the trees,
> You quickly draw another arrow, slipping back into the cover of the foliage
> Something large and feathery lands near the downed turkey
> It has the head of an eagle with the body of a lion, with large brown feathered wings on it’s back
> It’s fur is the same dark brown, but it’s head is covered in white feathers. A small crown of larger feathers sits atop it’s head, the ends colored a faint lavender. You see a similar coloration surrounding it’s eyes
> You recognize this creature. What were they called again? Oh yeah, griffons, that’s right.
> The griffon walks over to the turkey and picks it up in one talon, turning it around and inspecting it
> You hold your breath and remain still, trying to remain hidden. That thing looks dangerous. You do not want to tangle with it.
> It looks away from the bird and begins scanning the forest in your direction
> After only a short sweep, it’s eyes meet with yours
> What? It found you already? Dang, it must have great eyesight.
> The griffon crouches down, wings flaring up behind it
> You quickly stand and draw your bow, anchoring your hand behind your cheekbone
> The griffon glares at you, it’s talons digging into the soft dirt
> “What the heck are you?”
> The sudden question stuns you for a moment
> Holy crap that thing talks?
> The voice was harsh and abrasive, but definitely feminine. So it was a girl griffon?
> You must have been silent for a while, because she repeats the question
> “I said, what the heck are you?”
> You clear your throat and answer
“I’m a human”
>”Human, huh? Never heard of them.”
“I’m not exactly from here”
> “Well then,” she responds, her voice laced with suspicion, “what do you want?”
> You nod toward the turkey on the ground
“That is my dinner. Give it back.”
>She looks at the bird for a moment, and the returns her gaze to you
> “It’s mine now, freak. And what makes you think I’ll just give it back?” She demands, taking one step forward
> You shift your aim down and fire, embedding an arrow between the talons of her claw.
> With a startled squawk she leaps back, landing several feet away
> She flares her wings and crouches as she lands, preparing to pounce, but stops when she sees you already have another arrow drawn
“The next one goes between your eyes. Back off.”
> You could just end this right now, but killing another sentient could create problems. You don’t want to risk it.
>She looks back at the arrow impaled in the turkey’s head, realizing that it’s no idle threat
> She looks you in the eye, staring daggers at you
> “Your name…” She sneers, “What is it?”
“Anon”
>”I’m Gilda. Remember that. This isn’t the last you’ve seen of me.”
> With that she launches herself straight up into the air, quickly flying out of view.
> You relax the tension of the bow, letting out a sigh
> You retrieve your arrow from the ground and collect the shot turkey, mulling over what just happened
> You think your stay here just got a little more interesting.

Part (10)

>Another day, another hunt
> It seems rabbit is on the menu for today
> The hare hops over to edge of a small creak, lowering its head to the surface.
> You’re about 7 meters behind it, hidden in the bushes
> You draw back and fire with precision honed by years of experience
> As the arrow flies toward the target, a large feathery blur swoops down with blinding speed, snatching the rabbit
> The arrow whizzes through the now empty air, splashing into the stream
> Goddammit, not again!
> You yell in frustration, shaking your fist at the rapidly diminishing avian form in the sky
“GILDAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”
> You hear her laughing as she flies away with your prey
> “Better luck next time, dweeb!”
> Your anger quickly subsides as you retrieve your arrow from the slowly moving water
> In truth, you actually kind of enjoyed fighting with that griffon
> A week had passed since your first encounter, and you’ve been trying to out-do each other ever since
> You never actually fought, it was too risky for both of you. As predators, the slightest wound or injury could jeopardize your ability to hunt, leading to starvation
> Since you couldn’t strike directly at each other, you developed a sort of competition, both of you trying to snatch or shoot each other’s prey out from under them.
> The initial hostility of your first meeting slowly eroded as time went on. It wasn’t replaced by friendship by any means, but a kind of mutual respect as hunters.
> Despite the inconvenience, you were grateful for this turn of events. As meager as the interaction was, you still looked forward to it every day.
> The competition gave you something to strive for. It gave you that drive you were beginning to lack
> Stowing the arrow back into your quiver, you head off in search of another meal.
>You creep through the underbrush, eyes and hears tuned for the slightest sign of movement
> You feel a slight nagging on the edge of your subconscious, signaling you that something isn’t right
> You stop moving and focus, trying to make out the faint sound
> It’s definitely not natural, and it’s getting closer. You hear… voices?
> Shit, this can’t be good
> You quickly climb a nearby tree, leaping from branch to branch
> You settle onto a sturdy branch, nocking an arrow on the your bow
> The voices increase in volume as they approach, and you begin to make out what they’re saying
> “I don’t think this was such a good idea Scootaloo…”
> The voice was high pitched and feminine, was it a child?
> “Come on Sweetie Belle! If we catch that human we’ll get our human catching cutie marks for sure!”, a second voice replies
> What the hell is a cutie mark? And why would catching you give them one?
> “But we’ve walking for hours,” A third voice chimes in, thick with a southern accent, “Ah’m not sure we could even find our way back now”
> Below your hiding spot, three figures come into view. They’re p0nies, but much smaller than the ones you saw earlier, probably fillies
> One is an orange pegasus, with tiny wings and a short purple mane. Kind of looks like a chicken
> Another is a unicorn, with a white coat and a curly, lavender and pink mane. For some reason you begin craving marshmallows
> The third is a normal p0ny, with a yellow coat and a red mane. She wears a large pink bow atop her head. You have no particular feelings on her one way or the other
>The trio stops at the base of the tree and begin bickering between themselves. Arguing over whose idea this was, who lost the map, and how angry their parents are going to be.
> None of them ever look upward at your hiding spot in the branches
> You’re not sure exactly what to do here.
> On one hand, they’re p0nies, obviously looking for you and intent on capturing you. You can’t let that happen.
> But you can’t just kill them, they’re children for Christ’s sake!
> Children who are obviously completely lost. This forest is no place for children. They don’t look like they could fend for themselves.
> With a heavy sigh, you realize what you have to do
> You reposition yourself slightly before dropping from the tree
> With a loud *THUMP*, you land in the dirt a few feet away from the fillies
> They gasp at your sudden appearance, eyes wide with fear
“OOGA BOOGA!  I’M A BIG SCARY MONSTER!!!”
>The three fillies unleash an ear shattering shriek and flee from your presence, tearing through the underbrush in a mad haste
> You give a mock pursuit, herding them back in the direction of town.
> These p0nies have a terrible sense of direction. Multiple times they’ve managed to turn completely around, heading back deeper into the woods
> You make appearances when they slow down or lose direction, keeping them headed back toward town
> They continue yelling and screaming the whole way
> Most of it is incoherent, but you can make out the occasional “DON’T EAT US!”
> The trees begin to thin as you approach civilization
> Eventually, you arrive back at the apple orchard you ran through on the night you escaped
> You stop on the border of the trees, allowing the three fillies to escape
> The yellow and red filly cries out as you arrive, “BIG MAC! HELP US!”
> Who the hell is Big Mac?
> The ground trembles under your feet as a massive stallion thunders out from the orchard
> Holy fuck he was massive. His coat was solid red with an orange mane, his green eyes ablaze with raw fury
> Yeah, that’s probably Big Mac
> You turn around and run back into the forest as fast as your legs can carry you.
> Shorty after, you hear what sounds like an avalanche as the massive p0ny crashes through the brush behind you
> You weave through the foliage, desperate to put as much distance as possible between you and this living avatar of destruction
> The chase is punctuated by an occasional ear splitting crack behind you
> It sounds like he’s tearing through whole trees rather than work around them
> GOTTA GO FAST! GOTTA GO FAST!
> Adrenaline and terror course through your veins, driving you on
> The sounds of pursuit slowly begin to grow more distant as the forest becomes thicker, your greater agility giving more of an advantage over his massive form.
> You keep running though
> You don’t stop until you’ve arrived back at your cave, panting heavily and shaking
> NEVER GO BACK. NEVER AGAIN. AVOID THE ORCHARD. NEVER GO BACK

Part (11)

> You wake up in a cold sweat, your dreams haunted by the horrific visage of the red destroyer
> Piss. You need to piss
> Groggily you rise to your feet, yawning as you rub the sleep from your eyes
> You walk outside, the forest bathed in the dim twilight of predawn
> You freeze mid-step, any remaining drowsiness instantly dispelled
> Not twenty feet away stands the most glorious elk you’ve ever seen
> His heads rises from the stream, locking eyes with you
> Both of you stand perfectly still, staring at each other
> He was old, probably at least 20 years, but still strong
> His massive frame was covered in a thick dark coat, a massive rack of antlers atop his head
> You stood there for what felt like hours, until the elk turned and ran, bounding into the forest
> You stand there for a few minutes in silence, stunned.
> That was no ordinary animal, that was a king among elk
> For an elk to live that long, it must be exceptionally alert and strong
> You knew hunters back home who would kill for a chance to hunt something like that
> And you had that chance
> It would be hard. It will take all day, maybe even more, to track that elk
> And would take every ounce of your ability and cunning to take it down.
> You grin grew on your face as you reveled in the challenge to come
> There was just one thing needed to make this all perfect
> You head back inside and retrieve your bow, a plan forming in your head
>You lounge under a wild apple tree, feeling the warmth of the midday sun through your open jacket
> You were surprised when you found this tree a few weeks ago, but the apples were pleasantly crisp. You had a few gathered back at camp.
> You sat at the base of the trunk, hands folded behind your head and eyes closed
> Despite your sleepy demeanor, you were wide awake and alert, waiting.
> It wouldn’t be long now. You knew she couldn’t resist an opportunity like this.
> As if on cue, you hear the soft flapping of wings, followed by a familiar voice
> “Well, what do we have here?” Gilda asks sarcastically, “Sleeping on the job, anon?”
“Oh, hello Gilda.” You lazily reply, keeping your eyes closed
>“What’s wrong, dweeb? You finally realize that freaky-stick-thing of yours can’t compete with a good pair of talons?”
“Oh please,” you retort, shifting slightly, “I could hunt better than you with my eyes closed.”
>”Oh yeah?” she snaps back, “I bagged two rabbits this morning already, what have you got?”
“Rabbits?” you scoff, opening your eyes, “I suppose that’s pretty good, but I prefer going after something a little more challenging than hares.”
> Gilda’s eyes narrow, her self-assured smirk fading.
> “Like what?” she asks
> You lean forward, you know you have her attention now
“There’s an elk in these woods. Old buck with a large rack. It would take a hunter with some REAL skill to bring him down.”
>“I suppose you think that would be you.”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag…”
>”Stow it, freak.” Gilda cut in, “I’m going to bag that elk myself, and prove once and for all I’m the top predator around here.”
“I’d like to see you try.” 
>With a loud huff, Gilda launched herself into the air, flying out of view
> You couldn’t help but grin. You knew she wouldn’t be able to resist a challenge like this.
> Hunting that elk was already going to be enjoyable, but beating her to the kill would make today that much more satisfying.
> But if you were going to win, you needed to head out now.
> You grabbed your bow and set of at a brisk pace
> Before long, you arrived back at the tracks you scoped out this morning and began following them.
> Your style of hunting was vastly different than Gilda’s
> Gilda hunted by using her keen eyesight and greater speed. She would fly over vast swathes of land until she spotted prey.
> Then she would swoop down at great speeds at snatch it before it could react
> Your method, on the other hand, was much more direct
> You tracked individual prey, relying on stealth to close the distance. It was slower than Gilda’s method, but it gave you an advantage here.
> While she had to search throughout a wide area, you simply had to follow the tracks
> But you still had to hurry, if she got lucky and spotted the elk before up caught up with it, she would win.
> This elk was experienced at masking it’s tracks. It twisted and turned, wove through thick brush, and crossed streams at every opportunity.
> You lost the trail several times as you hurried to catch up, forcing you to double back and retrace your steps, wasting precious time
> You were still making progress though, the tracks and signs were becoming more and more fresh as the day went on.
> You began to grow uneasy as you noticed a pattern in the direction of the tracks
> They were heading west
> A knot begins to form in your stomach as the scenery begins to change, growing more jungle-like
> You hear the same unnatural silence you noticed the first time you were here 
> You still avoided this section of the woods after your encounter with the cockatrice, who knew what else lurked in here
> You swallow your apprehension and push on through the vines and ferns
> You weren’t going to back down now. You weren’t going to let her win
> The prints in the mud are extremely fresh now, the elk can’t be far off
> The eerie silence is broke by a loud avian screech above the canopy
> A screech of victory and triumph
> Dammit! She found the elk!
> You sprint off into the foliage, desperate to get ahead of her
> You are not going to lose!
> You hear the sounds of struggle ahead of you
> You burst into a small clearing, skidding to a halt at the sight of the scene before you
> Gilda was in the center of the clearing, standing over the corpse of the fallen elk
> Around her prowled five wolves, growling and snapping at the griffon
> At least, they looked like wolves, but not any you’ve ever seen
> They had coats as black as night, their eyes glowed like red coals in their sockets
> Gilda swiped at the canines, trying keeping them at bay with her talons, but there too many
> One of the wolves leaped through the air, mouth agape and talons outstretched
> You quickly fire off a snap shot, impacting the wolf mid leap and sending it sprawling to the ground
> Gilda’s gaze snaps toward you, her eyes wide with adrenaline
> “What the hell are you doing here freak?”
“Saving your ass! What’s it look like?” You shout back, drawing another arrow
>”I don’t need your help!” she snaps back, swiping at another wolf that ventured too close
“Oh yeah, sure. You really have things under control.” You sarcastically reply, drawing another arrow
>You fire at another wolf, the arrow striking through the creature’s eye, killing it instantly
> You’ve definitely got their attention now
> One of wolves breaks off from the group, sprinting at you
> You try to ready another arrow, but the hound closes the distance too quickly
> The wolf leaps onto you, knocking you off your feet and sending your bow flying from your grasp
> You painfully crash into the ground, the canine pinning your chest down with his paws
> You slam your left forearm under his jaw as he lunges forward, jaw snapping shut inches from your face
> You struggle to hold the creature’s maw away from you, trying to reach your knife
> You can smell it’s foul breath as you fumble at your belt, drool dripping onto your face
> Finally you free your knife, driving it into the wolf’s underside
> The wolf yelps in pain as you work the blade upward, before it’s body goes completely limp
> You push the body off you, scrambling to your feet
> Gilda managed to dispatch one of the remaining wolves, but suffered some visible scratches in the process
> The remaining hound pounces her, driving her back into a tree
> Her head strikes the trunk with an audible crack, her body slumping to the ground
> The wolf rears back, preparing to tear into her neck
“Hey! Over here you mangy mutt!”
>The wolf turns and looks at you, it’s eyes full of malice and cruelty
> You hurl your knife with an overhand throw, sending it spinning through the air
> The knife strikes the wolf between the eyes, the blade piercing through the skull
> It takes a few groggy steps toward you, swaying with every movement, before collapsing to the ground in a heap.
>Your arms hang limp at your sides, your breathing heavy and your body shaking as the adrenaline begins to wear off
> Second time you’ve been here and you almost died again
> It’s official, these woods suck
> You move to check on Gilda, she’s lying unconscious at the base of the tree she struck
> You can’t check her pulse through the feathers, but you can see the gentle rising and falling of her chest as she breathes
> She’s got a few scratches here and there, but nothing that requires immediate attention
> You make her a bit more comfortable, then go to retrieve your belongings
> You retrieve your bow from the ground, checking it over for damage, but it seems unharmed
> You pull your arrows and knife out from the corpses of the wolves. Even dead, they seem unnaturally evil.
> Gilda’s still out cold, you feel a twang of guilt as you look at her
> This whole hunt was your idea, she wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t challenged her earlier. It was your fault this happened.
> And you certainly can’t just leave her here. More predators are bound to show up eventually, and no one deserves to be left to that
> You give a sigh of resignation as you realize you really have no choice about what to do
> You stow away your bow and move over to the griffon
> You slump her unconscious form over your back, her arms and head hanging limply over your shoulders
> She’s surprisingly light for her size. You figure it must be the feathers, or maybe she has hollow bones
> You begin to hike through the forest, heading back toward camp.
> It’s nearly nightfall when you arrive back at your hidden alcove
> Gilda still hasn’t woken up, you lay her down to rest atop your makeshift bed
> You practically collapse against the cavern wall and slide down to the floor
> You’re completely exhausted from the day’s events
> Sleep claims you quickly as the first stars begin to appear in the sky

Part (12)

> You awaken sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall of the cavern
> It’s late in the morning, you slept in longer than you usually do
> You stand up, working through the tension in your back from your awkward position
> Gilda’s still unconscious on your bed, snoring slightly. It looks like she’s more asleep than knocked out by this point
> You don’t know much about first aid or treating concussions, but rest would do her some good. Probably best not to wake her
> You grab your bow and head outside, searching for breakfast
> You didn’t want to be gone long in case she woke up, no time to look for something good
> Squirrel it is then…joy
> Within the hour you’ve acquired a trio of the large brown rodents
> You sit near the fire at the mouth of the alcove, cleaning the squirrels with your knife and throwing the refuse into the nearby pond
> As you finish skewering the meat over the fire to roast, you hear Gilda begin to stir behind you
> She sits up slowly, groaning and clutching her head
> “What…what happened?” she asks, her eyes bleary 
“One of the wolves knocked you out,” You explain, turning the meat over the fire, “I brought you back here.”
> A simple, “Oh” is her only reply. You both stay silent while the food sizzles over the flames
> After you judge the meat has been cooked enough, you remove the two skewers, handing one to Gilda as you sit down opposite her
> “So,” you begin, not particularly looking forward to beginning your meal, “How are you feeling?”
> “Fine” she answers, digging voraciously into her food, “Other than this damn headache, and a few scratches, I’m fine”
 “Good,” you reply, taking a few bites of the stringy tasteless meat, “Then you can go ahead and leave as soon as possible”
>“Nope, sorry. Can’t do that.” She says, casually tossing the now empty skewer over her shoulder
“What? Why?”
> “Because you saved my life.” She explains, rising to her feet and exploring your camp, “That means I owe you a life debt. My griffon honor demands I be in your service until my debt is cleared.”
> You choke on a mouthful of squirrel as you try to process what she just said. Life debt? No. No way. You are not dealing with this.
“Nope, not happening. I don’t want you here. I… absolve you, or whatever. No debt. Now get out.”
> “Sorry, doesn’t work that way.” she replies, a smug grin on her face as she grabs one of the apples you gathered the other day.
> God dammit, she’s enjoying this.
> “Besides,” she continues, polishing the apple against her chest, “You’ve got a pretty nice setup here, much better than the crappy old nest I have”
“So let me get this straight. Because I saved your life, you get to annoy me, sleep in my cave, and eat my food?”
> “Yeah, pretty much.” She answers, taking a large bite out of the apple, “Deal with it.”
> You sigh, burying your face in your palm. This shit is going to get old really fast.

Part (13)

> Stalking prey was a delicate process, requiring complete concentration. You would never catch your prey unless you made absolutely no noise
> Even the slightest noise, the smallest rustle, the tiniest snap of a twig…
*SNAP*
> Yeah, like that
> You throw your head back and groan in frustration
“Seriously, why can’t you just leave me alone?”
>“I told you,” Gilda replied from behind you, “I owe you a life debt. Griffon honor and all that.”
“And your griffon honor demands you follow me everywhere I go?” you ask, annoyed that she broke your cover again
> “No,” she replies, grinning, “It’s just funny.”
“We’ll see how funny it is when there’s nothing to eat tonight.” you snap back as you continue walking
> “Oh please, calm down dweeb. I could catch something to eat within an hour. I am the top hunter around here after all.” she bragged.
“Oh yeah? Since when?” you call back.
>“I did bag that elk before those wolves showed up. Or did you forget that little detail?” she taunted.
“Hmmm… I think I was too busy killing four of the five wolves and hauling your sorry ass all the way back to camp to notice.”
> Gilda stammers for a bit, struggling to find a decent retort
> “I distracted them.” She finally says
> You open your mouth, about to press the advantage in your verbal sparring, when you hear something on the edge of your subconscious 
> You freeze in place, trying to pinpoint the faint noise
> Gilda’s notices you stop, sensing the sudden tension in your form
> “What is it?”
“Shh!” you hiss, “Do you hear that?”
>Gilda cocks her head to one side, listening intently
> “Yeah, I do. What is that?”
> The sounds are closer now, it sounded like footsteps.
> Or hoof beats
“Hide! Now!”
>You quickly climb a nearby tree, scurrying up into the branches
> If Gilda was surprised by your sudden outburst, she didn’t show it. She leaps up with a powerful flap from her wings, landing in the branches beside you.
> You find a good vantage point and silently wait, the hoof beats getting closer
> Your breath freezes in your chest as the p0nies come into view
> They’re royal guards, you would recognize those white coats and golden armor anywhere. There are three of them, two standard p0nies and a unicorn
> What where they doing here? The last time you saw any guards was weeks ago, and those were always pegasi.
> They never sent in search parties on foot, it would be too slow and there was too much land for them to cover. It was completely infeasible to try unless…
> Unless they narrowed down where to look.
> The fillies from earlier! Of course they would tell the other p0nies what they saw. Even if their direction were vague, the trail you tore running from Big Mac was so rough anyone could’ve followed it.
> You silently curse. Your camp was well hidden, but it wouldn’t be long before they found it if they were already this close.
> The guards pass without noticing you. You wait a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear before dropping to the ground
> “What was that all about? Scared of a few p0nies, anon?” Gilda teased, gliding down from the tree.
“Those guards were looking for me” you explain flatly, not in the mood for banter, “I’d rather not get caught.”
> Gilda seems genuinely shocked
> “Wait, hold on. You’ve got the Equestrian royal guard on your tail?” she asks, incredulous.
> “Well, you must be more badass than you look. So, what’d you do? Arson? Thievery? Piss in some noble’s cereal?”
“I ate meat in front of Princess Celestia”
> Gilda stares at you, stunned. Her mouth agape and jaw moving slowly up and down
> “Wow, are all humans that stupid? Or is it just you?”
“I don’t see how you’re being so passive about this.” you retort, “Won’t they execute you too?”
>“What for? I haven’t done anything. Well, they don’t have proof I’ve done anything” she clarifies
“What about the fact you eat meat? That’s all the reason they needed to try to kill me”
>“Most p0nies don’t even know griffons exist.” She explains “Even when they do meet one, it never occurs to them we might eat meat. They just assume we don’t.”
> That was news to you. You assumed she was living out here as a fugitive like you.
“So if the p0nies aren’t after you, what’re you doing out here?”
> “I just like it out here.” She shrugs, “What about you, how did you escape?”
> The memories of your imprisonment and Twilight’s mental invasions still haunted you. It wasn’t something you liked to think about, much less discuss.
> Besides, you don’t want to incriminate Rainbow Dash, you owe her that at least. The less people who know about what she did the better.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
>“Alright jeez. No need to go all emo on me.” Gilda said, holding up her talons “So, what’re you going to do now?”
“I don’t know really,” you reply, “Probably just find another place to hide.”
>“Why not leave the country? You know, get out of Equestria?
“And go where exactly? I doubt the p0nies anywhere else would be more tolerant.”
> Gilda scratches the underside of her beak with her claw, thinking
> “You could go to Gryphonia.”
“Gryphonia?”
> “Yeah, Gryphonia. The land of the griffons. I was born there. It’s past the northern mountain border of Equestria”
> You start to warm up to the idea. A nation of griffons wouldn’t have a problem with another omnivore. And the more distance you put between you and Celestia the better.
“Alright, how far is it?”
>”Well…” Gilda replies, suddenly sounding unsure, “It’s about a solid three weeks flight from here…”
> You heart sinks. You could only hope to cover a fraction of the distance a flier could per day, even in the best of conditions. 
> Plus, you would have to work through the terrain. Crossing rivers, working through forests, not to mention avoiding towns and roads…
> A three week flight would end up being a multi-month trek
> You sigh in resignation, it was still better than staying here
“Lead the way.”

Part (14)

“This sucks.” You complain, shivering from the rain and the cold
> The first week of the journey had gone well. After collecting your meager belongings from your camp, you and Gilda began your trek north to Gryphonia
> You were still in the forest, Gilda explained it took up most of the western half of Equestria. The plan was to follow it north, swinging west of Canterlot and other settlements.
> Then, we would cross the northern steppe, heading straight north for the mountain border of Gryphonia
> Things were going smoothly, until today
> Today just sucked
> It had been raining since this morning, a constant deluge of water that drenched everything within minutes
> Even with your coat closed and hood up, it wasn’t long before you were soaked to the bone
> Worse yet, the rain turned the ground into a thick quagmire of mud, slowing your process to a crawl.
> When it was time to set up camp for the day, you were muddy, wet, and thoroughly pissed off after covering only a fraction of the distance you wanted to.
> To make matters worse, the rain sent all the nearby animals into cover, making hunting impossible
> Not that you could have cooked the meat anyway, all the nearby timber was waterlogged. No fire tonight
> And to top it all off, the only shelter you could find was a under the branches of a large oak. The canopy doing little to divert the constant onrush of water
> Today really sucked
> You huddled under the tree, your legs pulled to your chest to preserve as much heat as possible
> Your clothes were soaked through, clinging to your skin and sapping precious warmth
> The thick clouds above blocked out the stars and the moon, plunging everything into total darkness
> The only illumination came from the occasional bolt of lightning that pierced the sky
> You remembered that being under a tree was not a good idea during a storm. But fuck it, you were in a forest, what’re the odds lighting would strike the one tree you were under?
> Your stomach growled, painfully empty from lack of food
> Between the rain, hunger, and cold, you knew there would be no sleep tonight. This was going to be an all-nighter.
> The storm still showed no sign of stopping, the thunder and rain creating a constant dull roar in your ears.
“This sucks…” You repeat for the hundredth time today.
> “Shut it…dweeb. I know it sucks.” Gilda replied from nearby
> She wasn’t spared the misery of the storm either
> Her feathers and fur were soaked and matted, giving her the appearance of a drowned rat or a wet cat
> You probably could have come up with some witty taunt or clever remark, but you really didn’t have the energy right now.
“No, I don’t think you comprehend the sheer magnitude of SUCK right now.”
> “I said... shut it” Gilda repeats, she clearly doesn’t have the energy for a decent retort either
“I mean, could this possibly get any worse?” you ask
> You should have known no one ever gets away with that comment.
> You hear a faint rumbling in the distance
> At first you think it’s just another roll of thunder, but it lasts too long, and it’s growing louder
> You rise to your feet, alert.
“Hey Gilda, do you hea-“
> You’re cut off as the rumble suddenly escalates into a deafening roar
> The clouds part as a massive flaming streak cuts across the sky, illuminating everything briefly in blinding light
> Shortly after, the ground buckles underneath beneath your feet as the sound of an explosion echoes through the forest
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THA-“
> “Get down you idiot!” Gilda shouts, tackling you to the ground
> The shockwave hits moments later.  A massive wall of compressed air tears through the trees, breaking of branches and sending large bits of flaming wood sailing overhead.
> You cover the back of your head with your hands as the debris falls around you, a small rain of dirt clods and small stones dropping from the sky.
> Slowly, the rain of debris comes to an end. You rise to your feet, brushing the dirt and mud from your chest
“Was that… was that a freaking meteor?!?” you ask
>“How should I know? I’m no scientist” Gilda replies, shaking the dirt and dust from her coat
> You survey the damage around you, the ground is littered with broken tree limbs and charred bits of wood.
> The meteor’s passage cleared the sky above you. The rain has been reduced to a faint drizzle, and you can see the bright stars and moon above you.
“Come on,” you say, “let’s go check out where that thing landed.” 
>You head off in the direction of the explosion, Gilda falling in behind you.
> It isn’t hard to find where the meteor struck, the damage becoming more severs as you get closer
> Several trees have been uprooted by the force of the blast. Some even caught fire, illuminating the forest in a red glow.
> You eventually find a large crater in the earth, at least ten meters across and several meters deep, the ground inside charred black and steaming slightly in the rain.
> Curiosity overcame trepidation as you stepped over the rim of the crater, sliding down the sloped banks.
> “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Gilda called from the rim of the crater
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” You answer back, making your way to the center of the crater
> As you looked around, examining the crater, something near your feet caught your eye.
> You bend down, picking up a small black pebble
> It was about the size of a die, smooth with small angular edges.
> It’s surface was dark and glossy, like obsidian, but not reflective. The dim light of the stars and small fires around you seemed to spill into it.
> You expected it to be hot, or at least warm. But the pebble was cool to the touch.
> You had never seen a stone like this before. You decide to keep it, dropping it into one of your pockets as you head back out of the crater.
> “Find anything?” Gilda asks as you pull yourself over the edge of the crater
“Just this” you reply, showing her the curious black stone
> Gilda picked it up in her talon, holding the stone close to her eye and turning it slightly as she examined it
“Any idea what it is?”
> “Nope. I told you, I’m no scientist” she answers, handing the pebble back to you.
“Alright then,” you say, putting the stone back into your pocket and out of your thoughts, “Let’s see if we can get some sleep now that the damn rain has nearly stopped.”

Part (15)

> “Alright, do you see the big dipper?”
“Yeah, I see it”
> “Good, now follow the two stars that make up the far end…”
> You follow your father’s finger as it traces an imaginary line across the night sky
> “And you arrive at the little dipper, see it?”
“Yeah… I think so.” You reply, turning your head slightly, “It looks like it’s upside down.”
> He chuckles slightly, “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
> “Now, do you see that star on the end of the handle?”
> You nod in confirmation. The star on the end of the handle sticks out among the others, glowing more brightly than those around it
> “That’s the north star son. Every star in the sky rotates slowly except that one, which always points north.”
> “As long as you can find that star, you won’t be lost. You will always be able to find your way home if you can see that star.”
“Got it dad.”
> “Good,” he says, placing his hand on your shoulder, “You’re learning fast son, I’m very proud of you. I know you’ll do well.”
“Can you show me some of the other constellations?”
> “Yeah, I think we have some time before it gets too late. Let’s see… why don’t we start with Orion…”
> You bolt upright, your chest covered in a cold sweat
> You glance around, reminding yourself of your surroundings
> It’s the middle of the night, you were sleeping under a large overhang of rock you found yesterday.
> The remnants of a cooking fire smoke and softly crackle nearby
> You’re still in the woods. You’re still in Equestria
> You’re still not home
> Your bury your face in your hands, shuddering
> You can’t go home. You know you can’t go back. Why do you have to be reminded of that almost every night?
> You rise to your feet. You need a walk. You need to clear your head
> Gilda is curled up nearby, sound asleep. Her face tucked under her wing and her chest slowly rising and falling with each breathe.
> You slowly creep out of the alcove, careful not to wake her.
> There’s a full moon out tonight, bathing the forest in a pale white light
> You work your way through the trees. You have no idea where you’re going and honestly, you don’t really care
> You just needed to clear your head
> After a few minutes of walking, you find yourself in a clearing at the top of a small hill.
> It’s a near cloudless night, the stars of the sky in full display
> The last lights of day have long since faded, allowing even the meekest of stars to be visible.
> The tiny specks blend together into great streaks of cosmic dust, set against a backdrop of dark blues, blacks, and purples.
> It was beautiful really, like a gigantic painting, but it was bittersweet. You scanned the sea of lights, hoping to find that one unique star.
> You knew you wouldn’t find it
> You never found it
> Not since you arrived here
> You sat there for several minutes, just staring at the unfamiliar sky above you.
> Behind you, you hear the soft sound of claws and paws walking over the dew covered grass 
> “Anon?” Gilda asked, sounding drowsy, “What’re you doing out here?”
“Nothing,” You reply, “Just…thinking.”
> “About what?”
> You’re silent for a few moments as you try to articulate your thoughts
“Gilda, how do you know which way is north?”
> Gilda looks at you, confused
> “This isn’t some bizarre philosophy crap is it? Like that tree in a forest thing?”
“No,” you shake your head, “I just mean, how do you direct yourself? With the stars and stuff.”
> Gilda moved forward, sitting beside you
> “Okay, do you see those three bright stars over there?” she asked, pointing with her talon.
> You follow her claw to a point a few inches above the horizon. You see three white stars, arranged in an isometric triangle
> “See how they form a triangle? The top always points north.” She explained
“But what good is that? The stars change every night.” You point out
> “Those three don’t. They’re always in the same spot.”
“Why?”
> “I don’t know,” she shrugged, “They just are.”
> You stare at the three stars for a while. It wasn’t much, being able to tell which way was north, but it was something you had missed.
> It was something that you could do back home, one of the many little things this world robbed from you
> But now you had it back.
> Gilda stood up, turning around and walking back toward camp
“Hey Gilda,” you call back, still sitting on the grass
> She stopped, looking back at you
“Thanks.”

Part (16)

>You curse as the sleeve of your jacket catches on yet another thorny vine
“Really Gilda, great job,” you call back as you try to free your arm from the clingy plant, “I think you found the densest concentration of thorns and brambles on the planet. Quite the accomplishment”
> “It’s your fault dweeb.” Gilda retorted from behind you as she struggled with her own vine, “Normally I can just fly over all this, but I have to guide your grounded ass.”
> Finally you free your arm and resume your slow pace forward, using your knife as a makeshift machete to clear through the thicket.
> The knife didn’t do much good. The plants were thick and flexible, simply stretching and moving under the strikes.
> The bushes rose to well above shoulder level, forming a near impenetrable barrier, forcing you to squeeze and worm your way through tiny openings.
> You had been working through this for the better part of a mile. Your clothes were covered with tiny spiked seeds and your hands stung from thousands of tiny pinpricks.
> Gilda fared no better, the barbs equally adept at working their way into feathers as cloth. Her coat was disheveled and you could see several feathers pinned to the bushes.
> Finally, you emerge from the thicket, tearing yourself free from the troublesome foliage
“At last!” you exclaim, plopping down onto the ground “Sweet, soft, non-prickly grass!”
> You yelp and jump back onto your feet as hundreds of tiny thorns embedded in your clothes simultaneously poke into your back.
> “Smooth move, dweeb.” Gilda remarks as she emerges from the brambles
“…shut up.” You reply, failing to devise a good retort. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of ground to make up.”
> You set off into the forest, Gilda following behind you with a triumphant smirk.
> As you make your way between the trees, a powerful odor hits your nostrils, causing you to stop in your tracks.
> The smell is recognized instantly, anyone would instinctively know that stench even if it was the first time they encountered it.
> The odor is base, simple, and foul. It sets off primal, deeply imbedded instincts and emotions, caution, wariness, and fear.
> It’s the smell of rotting flesh.
> The smell of death.
> Without a word, you unsling your bow and draw an arrow, looking behind you.
> Gilda’s eyes are wide and alert, her body tense. She recognizes it as well.
> You two of you creep forward, senses tuned to the slightest disturbance.
> The stench gets stronger as you move closer to the cause of the smell.
> You find the source at the bottom of a small gulley.
> It was a p0ny, with a dark blue coat and a black mane
> His neck was clearly broken, his head lying at an unnatural and awkward angle
> He had a gruesome gash wound on his chest and face, which was now infested with swarms of flies
> “Wow, sucks to be that guy,” Gilda remarked as she examined the body, “looks like a bear got to him.”
“Yeah, and not too long ago,” you reply, keeping your bow trained on the foliage around you, “I’d say about twelve hours, maybe more judging by the rot.”
> “Oh hey, I found his saddlebags”
> You look over your shoulder and see Gilda pull a pair of worn saddlebags out from a nearby bush
“Seriously? We’re robbing a dead guy?”
> “What? He doesn’t need them anymore.”
“Alright, fine.” You sigh, “Let’s just get out of here. That thing reeks and I’d rather not be around when the scavengers show up.” 
 
> The sun was low in the sky as the two of you sat around your camp.
> Tonight’s meal was already taken care of, two hares roasted over the small cooking fire.
> “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Gilda said, tossing you one of the saddlebags and opening the other herself.
> You flip the clasp open and begin rummaging through the bag’s contents
> “First off, a pair of horseshoes…” Gilda listed, producing four small metal shoes
> “Useless.” She remarked, throwing them over her shoulder
“Trail rations,” you announce, pulling out five small wrapped bundles and placing them aside, “could be useful if we can’t hunt.”
> “Oh, score! Bits!” Gilda exclaimed, pulling out a small cloth pouch sealed off by a short cord
“Bits?” you ask, confused
> “Money.” She clarifies
“Ah.” You affirm, resuming your search.
> You grasp something smooth and heavy from the bottom of the bag. Pulling it out, you see it’s a large corked bottle, nearly full.
“Oh sweet! Wine!” you announce, presenting your find.
> “Seriously? Wine?” Gilda scoffs “I prefer something with a little more kick in it than that fruity frou-frou crap.”
“Same here, I hate wine actually.” You explain as you try to force the cork off with your thumb, “But alcohol is alcohol, and I haven’t had a drink in ages.”
> The cork comes off with a small *pop*. You wrap your lips around the opening and throw your head back in a large swig.
> You reflexively gag and sputter as the liquid hits your tongue.  Good lord it was sour!
> You bury your face in your arm, coughing and trying to rid your mouth of the foul taste.
“Oh god! This stuff is spoiled!”
> Gilda laughs at your reaction, “Oh please, it can’t be that bad. You just can’t hold down your drink.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenge, holding out the bottle, “Let’s see you do any better.”
> “Alright then,” she agrees, grabbing the bottle from your hand, “let me show you how a griffon drinks.”
> She takes a massive swig from the bottle, pointing the bottom straight up into the sky
> You see her eyes go wide as the taste hits, her body shakes from barely suppressed gag.
> To your surprise, she still manages to take several gulps before lowering the bottle, breathing heavily
> “See?” she wheezes, “No problem.” 
“Give me that bottle.” You demand. You’re not going to let yourself be shown up by her.
 
“Okay, okay, okay…” You laugh, trying to calm yourself down, “Give me another one.”
> “Alright, alright,” Gilda giggles, trying to stifle her own laughter with her claw, “Let’s see here…”
> “Trottingham”
“Nottingham”
> “Stalliongrad”
“Stalingrad”
> “Los Pegasus”
“Seriously? Los Pegasus? That’s not even trying anymore!” you exclaim, falling onto your back in another fit of laughter.
> “I know right?” Gilda agrees, sharing in your infectious laughter, “All p0ny names are like that. They’re ridiculous!”
> You take another swig from the bottle, watching the stars spin and twirl above you. This stuff wasn’t so bad, once you got used to it.
“I wonder, *hic*, I wonder what that blue p0ny’s name was.” you stammer, “It was probably Bluey, or Blues, or something…”
> “Bluey… Bluey sounds about right” Gilda agrees, her words heavily slurred.
> You sit up, raising the nearly empty bottle into the air.
“To Bluey,” you toast, “You unfortunate bear-mauled bastard.”
> Gilda raises an imaginary glass in the air. “To Bluey” she repeats, raising her claw to her beak and looking genuinely confused when she finds no drink inside.
> You snicker as Gilda’s display, leaning against a nearby tree.
> You notice Gilda running her beak repeatedly through her wings. She’s been doing that every few minutes throughout the whole day.
“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask
> “I’m preening. Those darn thorns from earlier just won’t come out.” She answers, sounding annoyed.
“Here, I bet I can get them out.” You offer, dropping the bottle and rising to your feet.
> “What? No, I can get them out myself.” Gilda protests
“No, no, no, no” You insist, stumbling across the camp, “You’ve been working at that all day. Let me help.”
> You position yourself behind Gilda, gently grabbing her wing in your hand
> “No, really, I don’t need you help An-“
> She’s cut off as you begin running your fingers through the feathers, working to the soft down beneath the surface.
> It doesn’t take long to find the troublesome thorns. As you pluck each one free, Gilda shudders under your hands, letting out a soft moan of pleasure.
> Dang, these things must have really been bothering her.
> After a few minutes, you’ve cleared the barbs from Gilda’s left wing
> Without a word, Gilda extends her right wing out from her body. You reposition yourself and begin clearing the thorns from that as well
> As you work, you feel your eyelids grow heavy and begin to droop lower and lower. You unceremoniously drop to the ground as sleep overtakes you.
 
> The morning sun breaks through the canopy of leaves above you, stinging your bloodshot eyes
> OH SWEET MERCIFULL LORD YOUR HEAD
> It feels like there’s a jackhammer pounding the inside of your skull
> You groan and clench your eyes shut from the painful light.
> You try to pull your blanket over your head, but it refuses to budge, it seems like it’s caught on something
> You pull harder, desperate for something to shield your eyes with
> Wait, something doesn’t seem right here. 
> Your brain fights through the haze of your hangover, trying to put the pieces together
> Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a blanket.
> Then what are you pulling on?
“Grugh… stop pulling on my wing.” Gilda says lazily from behind you
> Your mind suddenly snaps into focus
> Gilda was spooning you from behind, her wing draped over your body
> WHAT THE SHIT
> Gilda must have reached the same realization as you, screaming and quickly kicking you away
> The two of you scramble away from each other, each backing up into the trunk of a tree
“OH GOD OH GOD WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!?!” you shout
> “PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Gilda shouts back
“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T REMEMBER!”
> “I DON’T REMEMBER EITHER! THEN HOW DO WE KNOW!?!”
“WAIT, MY PANTS ARE STILL ON! WE COULDN’T HAVE DONE ANYTHING!”
> “GOOD THINKING! SO THEN NOTHING HAPPENED!”
“RIGHT!”
> “RIGHT!”
“WHY ARE WE STILL SHOUTING?”
> “I DON’T KNOW!”
> You stare at each other, backs against the trunks and breathing heavily.
“Ok, so… um. I guess we should get moving?” you ask awkwardly
> “Yeah, moving. We should do that. Moving. Yes.” Gilda responded
> You were not looking forward to today.

Part (17)

> Finally, after weeks of hiking and walking, you reached the edge of the forest
> The trees slowly grew smaller and thinned out as you neared the edge
> Before you stretched an endless expanse of short golden grass and rolling hills, the northern steppe
> At the edge of the horizon, you could just make your destination. You could see the mountains of Gryphonia, just a thin jagged line on the horizon.
> You stopped under the last tree, finding it difficult to take another step
> You look back behind you at the thick forest
> That was your element, it had been your haven for a long time now.
> Out here, in the open with the vast sky above you, you felt… exposed, vulnerable.
> The gravity of your situation came rushing back. If you were spotted out here, there was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.
> Gild notices you’ve stopped and turns back toward you
> “You ok, anon?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…”
> “Don’t worry Anon, I’ve got your back.” Gilda reassures you, sensing your apprehension
“Thanks, G.”
> You step out into the prairie, feeling more confident.  If something did happen, you knew you wouldn’t be facing it alone
> Something had grown between you and Gilda over these past few weeks. You both shared a feeling of comradery, you watched her back and she watched yours.
> You still competed, taunted and tried to outdo each other, but you were a team. You respected one another as rivals and equals.
> You wouldn’t rather have anyone else at your side.
 
> You trudge on through the endless sea of grass, devoid of even the tiniest landmark
> You didn’t head directly north. You zigzagged and cut across the landscape, jumping from one watering hole to the next.
> Water was scarce out here, and without a something to hold it in, you were bound by local sources
> Still, you were making progress with a simple system.
> Gilda would fly up into the air, using her keen eyesight to locate the next patch of water and plot a course north.
> Even so, there were many times you went nearly all day without a drink. This is one of those times.
> So it was with great relief that you spotted Gilda returning from her search
> She slowed her descent with a few flaps of her wings, landing softly in front of you with a pleased grin.
“So,” You ask, “Did you find the next watering hole?”
> “Yeah, it’s about a mile northwest of here.” She answers, “But I found something even better just beyond that.”
“Really? What is it? A river? A fountain of booze? Soap?”
> Gilda snickers at that last one, “Yeah I wish. But no, it’s a surprise.”
“All right fine, be all mysterious. Let’s just go, I’m thirsty as hell.”
> After about fifteen minutes of walking, you arrive at the watering hole Gilda spotted earlier
> It would hardly even qualify as a pond. It was more of a large puddle, only a few inches deep and surrounded by reeds.
> Still, water was water. You eagerly kneel down at the edge, gulping down the refreshing liquid.
> After a few moments rest, you resume your trek across the steppe
 
> Gilda led you forward towards whatever she had found while scouting earlier
> She stopped at the crest of a small hill, gesturing you forward
> As you reach the top of the hill, you’re astounded at the sight before you
> Below you lies hundreds of tents of various sizes and shapes, filling a large depression in the prairie.
> Countless figures milled between the tents. Many were unrecognizable to you, but you did make a majority of the forms.
> p0nies. There were p0nies down there
> You quickly dive to the ground, trying to hide yourself in the long grass.
“What were you thinking Gilda?” You hiss, “There are p0nies down there! Did you forget I was sentenced to death?”
> “Relax dweeb, It’s fine. That’s the Equestrian black market down there”
“Equestria has a black market?” you ask, incredulous
> “Sure, why not?” she shrugs, “Don’t worry, there’s no royal guards down there.”
“They’re still p0nies.” You reason, “What makes you think they’ll be any more receptive?”
> “Because there aren’t just p0nies down there. There’re griffons, zebras, diamond dogs, and a whole bunch of other species as well. Any p0nies down there have no problem with what you or I eat.” 
“How do you know so much about this?” you inquire, cautiously rising your feet
> “I’ve been there a few times.” She explains, “Well, not there exactly, the market moves every couple of weeks to avoid getting caught, it’s like a big caravan.”
> “Besides,” she continues, “We can get some supplies down there, not to mention a decent meal and an actual bed to sleep on.”
> You still didn’t like the idea of strolling into plain view after spending so much time hiding, but the prospect of a good night’s rest and a proper meal was too good to pass up.
“Alright,” you concede, “Let’s go check it out.”
 
> This entire place was like one giant bazaar. Merchants peddled goods of questionable origin to the throngs of p0nies bustling through the makeshift streets between the massive tents.
> Gilda was right about there being more than just p0nies here. You’ve already passed a few other griffons, along with zebras, donkeys, and some sort of bipedal dogs.
> Some of them gave you an odd look, but most passed by without a reaction. After spending so long in near solitude, it was nice change of pace to be lost into the crowd.
> “Alright,” Gilda said, reaching into her saddlebags and pulling out a small cloth pouch, “Here’s half of the cash Bluey had on him, see what supplies you can get.”
> She emptied a small pile of golden coins onto her talon, handing them to you.
“Where are you going?” you ask, pocketing the bits.
> “I’m heading over to the Griffon quarter.” She answered, gesturing toward the west side of the compound, “I’m going to see if we can get a place to stay the night.”
“Alright, I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”
> As the two of you head your separate ways, you can’t help but feel a little concerned for Gilda’s safety.
> Wait, what were you thinking? You were the wanted man in a crowded market of outlaws, shouldn’t you be more focused on your own safety?
> Besides, Gilda’s a strong girl, she can handle herself. You’re sure she’ll be just fine.
> “PINCH MY FLANK AGAIN AND I’LL FLAY YOU ALIVE!”
> Yeah, she’ll be just fine.

Part (18)

> You make your way through the crowded streets. The air is filled with the mixed scent of various foods and mixed spices. Merchants shout slogans and boasts over the din of the moving crowd.
> You ignore the barrage of advertisements and ‘bargains’, you already spent most of the little money you had.
> You found a canteen for a reasonable price, a priority after a few days in the steppe, along with a small bedroll.
> You also bought a large bag of venison jerky from a Griffon vender. It was a bit tough, but well seasoned.
> You even managed to find a crude backpack, along with a map of Gryphonia. It was nice to finally be able to see where you were and where you were going.
> Unfortunately, that left you with only a couple of bits left, but still plenty of time before you were supposed to meet up with Gilda.
> So you decided to just explore a bit, taking in the sights and sounds of this massive market
> As you work your way through the crowd, you hear a peculiar voice call out.
> “Come one, come all, and learn your fate!”
> “Listen close before it’s too late!”
> The voice had a peculiar accent to it, and was almost lyrical in nature
> You see it’s coming from a hooded p0ny in front of one of the more ragged tents
> She must have noticed you looking, turning toward you she addresses you directly.
> “You there, friend, would you like a reading?”
> “I know it is just what you are needing.”
“I don’t believe in fate.” You answer, continuing on your way.
> She laughs at your response
> “Of course, on the strings of fate you do not play”
> “Your father would have it no other way”
> That stopped you in your tracks.
“How do you know about my father?” you demand.
> You could just make out a small smile under her hood
> “I know many things, o’ walker of woods”
> “Far more than one reasonably should”
> Ok, this was officially unsettling. How did she know about you?
> Was she a spy? An assassin sent by Celestia? She didn’t look threatening at least.
> You needed to find out who she was.
“Alright fine, I’ll take a reading. But I don’t have much money.”
> “Worry not,” she replies, “I will not charge you for my time”
> “To read your fate, the pleasure is mine”
> She opens the flap to her tent and steps inside, gesturing for you to follow
> You stoop under the opening, entering the dimly lit space
> The air was hazy and thick with strong incense. Various tribal masks and gourds hung from the ceiling and walls.
> The tent was lit by a few large candles places sporadically about, aided by the many tiny holes in the canvas ceiling.
> In the center was a large black cauldron, surrounded by various cushions and bubbling with a fluorescent green liquid.
> The p0ny took a seat on the far side of the cauldron and began muttering strange incantations under her breath
> As you sat down on the pile of cushions, the strange p0ny threw back her hood with one hoof
> Ok, so she wasn’t a pony at all, she was a zebra. Her coat was covered in a pattern of black and white stripes. Her mane had a similar pattern, arranged in individual locks that hung around her head.
> But her most striking feature was her eyes. Whatever color they had was lost beneath a thick silvery glaze.
> Finished with her incantations, she threw a small powder into the cauldron, which began to bubble and churn with greater intensity.
> She leaned forward, seeming pleased with her work.
> “The cauldron swirls shall tell us things”
> “And show us what your future brings”
“How are you supposed to read the cauldron? You’re blind.” You point out
> She turned toward you, looking you straight in the eye. Even blind, her gaze was powerful, she seemed to star straight into your soul.
> “I may be blind, unable to see”
> “But I know all things that will come to be”
> She turned her attention back to the bubbling concoction, staring at it intently.
> “Every life is a balanced scale”
> “That tips and turns throughout their tale”
> “One side holds joy and success”
> “The end that we all desire best”
> “The other hold pain and sorrow”
> “A truly misfortunate tomorrow”
> “And in every life, there is a crucial time”
> “When the scale falls forever to one side”
> “And no matter how you struggle or feel”
> “Your destiny is forever sealed”
> “But for you, it seems that time did pass”
> “It was when you spared that mare your wrath”
> Wait, did she mean Twilight? So the decision to spare her determined your entire future? No, you refused to believe that. Fate isn’t set in stone, you controlled your own destiny.
> And yet, as much as you didn’t believe in prophecy and fortunes, this zebra knew things she shouldn’t. Magic was very real in this world, was perceiving the future really so farfetched?
“So,” you ask, your curiosity bettering your skepticism, “Was that the right choice?”
> She peers deeper into the swirling mix, growing confused and flustered.
> “Your ultimate fate, I cannot see”
> “You struggle against the chains of destiny”
> “But I see many questions bounce around your head”
> “Enough to keep us here till bed”
> “And so I will answer none save one”
> “The one you’ve asked since your journey begun”
> She was right, you had a million questions about this world, many of which Gilda was unable to answer.
> Was this a different planet? A different time? Were there other humans somewhere? How did magic work? How did p0nies evolve?
> However, there was one question that overrode all others. A question you asked yourself every day and every night.
“How do I get home?”
> She smiled at you, as if she knew that was what you were going to ask
> “You’ve already come far, the end is near”
> “To me, this is perfectly clear”
> “But to make your way, you must hold the key”
> “It is the only thing that can protect thee”
> You couldn’t help but get excited at her response. This was the first clue you’ve gotten since you arrived.
“Then what is the key? Where do I find it?” You ask anxiously
> “My friend, you’ve already got it” she replies with a smirk,
> “It resides within your pocket”
> You were confused, you didn’t have anything in your pockets except for a few bits and...oh
> You reach into your coat pocket, retrieving the smooth black stone
> You had practically forgotten about it, it had been sitting in there untouched for weeks
“You mean this?” you ask, holding up the stone, “What’s so special about it?”
> “That stone is of no earthly vein”
> “It is known as goddess bane”
> “As long as your person it adorns”
> “You will be shielded from those with horns”
> Well what the hell did that all mean? You already guessed it was a meteorite, but what did she mean by shielded? Was it a good luck charm?
> Before you can ask her to clarify, she looks away and stares off into the distance, as if listening to something only she can hear.
> Abruptly she turns back toward you, her expression serious.
> “It seems our time has come to an end”
> “I wish you luck on your path my friend”
> “There come those who would wish you harm”
> “It would be best if you were gone”
> She rises to her feet and ushers you out of the tent, pushing you with her head
“Wait! Hold on! I don’t understand!” you protest
> You’re quickly shoved out of the tent and back into the sunlight, the canvas flap closing behind you
> You look around warily, her abrupt warning putting you on edge.
> Everything looks alright though, no one looks like they’re about to attack you.
> You do notice a group of those bipedal dogs pointing up into the sky, talking amongst themselves.
> You follow their gaze, shielding your eyes from the sun.
> What the hell was that? It looked like a massive flock of birds, passing under the shadow of a small cloud
> Couldn’t be birds though, they were too big. It looked like they were… oh no… oh god no…
> As the massive flock clears the shadow, the sunlight reflects off hundreds of sets of gleaming golden armor.

Part (19)

> You stare at the mass of approaching guards, immobilized by complete shock. 
> It can’t be them. It couldn’t be them. How did they find you? You hadn’t even seen another p0ny since…
> A loud voice echoes throughout the tents, snapping you back to attention
> “RAID!!!”
> Instantly, pure chaos breaks out within the market.
> Venders and customers who were just a moment before chatting and bartering jumped each other, desperately snatching as many goods as possible
> No honor among thieves it seems.
> You need to get out of here, if those guards catch you and send you back, you won’t get another chance to escape.
> You take off at a mad sprint into an empty alley, unslinging your bow from your shoulder. It’s a good thing you thought to string it before coming down here.
> You search frantically for a way to escape, maybe hide in a cart, or sneak off into the steppe…
> Wait, what about Gilda? She’s on the other side of the market, you couldn’t possibly get to her before those pegasi arrive.
> You can’t just leave her though, you need her to get into Gryphonia. But if you stuck around, you risked getting caught, and being sent back to Celestia…
> You make your decision, turning west toward the griffon quarter
> Gilda promised to watch your back, you were sure as hell going to watch hers
> The sounds of fighting behind you grow closer as you weave between the tents
> Looking behind you, you see the sky full of pegasi, some of them pulling chariots. As the chariots pass over the tents, magical bolts rain down in a constant barrage.
> It was like some sort of magical carpet bombing!
> You run for cover, diving under an overturned wagon as the chariots pass overhead
> The ground shakes under the impact of the magical mortars, the shockwaves painful in your ears
> As the explosion grow more distant, you emerge from your improvised shelter, coughing through the thick smoke and dust
> The ground around you is littered with small smoking craters, many of the tents engulfed in flames or collapsed. It’s a small miracle you weren’t hit.
> The chariots in the distance break their formation, heading out in search of individual targets or descending to land.
> You continue your run, working through the blistering heat and flaming debris. You occasionally pass a charred body, felled by the aerial bombardment.
> In some the burning tents you hear the haunting wails of the poor souls trapped inside.
> This was just sick, and they called you the monster
> Your progress is slow, there seemed to be little planning in the placement of the tents, creating roads that twisted and turned repeatedly.
> Some paths were blocked by debris, forcing you to backtrack
> Finally, you enter one of the main boulevards, a much wider street than ran the length of the compound
> Unfortunately, that also meant you were exposed out of cover.
> You see one of the chariots in the distance bank, turning parallel to the road and heading towards you
> You could run, make it to the other side of the street far before it reached you. You could easily lose them in the winding alleys.
> But you were tired of that. Ever since you arrived here you have done nothing but run, hide and cower from these p0nies
> It was high time you fought back
> It was time to get dangerous
> The chariot begins a slow dive, heading straight at you. That crazy pegasus intended to ram you!
> You stand your ground, taking a shooting stance and drawing an arrow
> You draw back to your chin, leveling your bow at the pegasus pulling the chariot.
> You had to wait until your aim was sure, the broadhead couldn’t pierce that armor he wore.
> He kept coming at you, intent on playing this deadly game of chicken
> He was nearly level with you now, barreling down the street at incredible speed
> You waited for the perfect moment, the bowstring digging into your fingers
> He was less than ten meters away, you could see the fierce determination in his eyes
> You fire
> The arrow flew forth, striking the pegasus in the neck, just above the breastplate
> His expression turned to complete shock for a moment, before his body went limp in the harness
> You drop to one knee, the now driverless chariot sailing overhead by only a few inches
> The chariot crashed into the earth behind you, carving a small trough several meters long as it plowed to a halt.
> You rise back up, looking back at the mangled wreck behind you
> Your heart drops as two unicorns groggily pull themselves from the twisted remains
> You remember what happened back at Celestia’s castle, the way they effortlessly disarmed you. You needed to put them down fast.
> You quickly draw and fire, catching the first of the unicorns in the side of the head
> The second stares in shock as his comrade slumps unceremoniously to the ground
> You fire off another snap shot, desperate to end this before he can recover.
> Your hastily aimed arrow strikes the unicorn’s breastplate, deflecting harmlessly of to the side
> Your attack breaks him from his daze. He glares at you, his horn glowing in a faint blue aura
> With a crack of ionized air, a magical bolt of energy fires forth, aimed directly at our chest
> Well, you suppose death by lightening was a pretty badass way to go
> You cringe, bringing your arms up to shield yourself from the incoming blast
> Surprisingly, it fizzles half a foot away from you, the magical energy dissipating into the air
> You and the unicorn stare at each other, neither knowing exactly what just happened.
> You recover first, snatching another arrow from your quiver and quickly nocking it to the string
> The unicorn guard lowers his horn again, firing anther bolt straight at you
> Like the first, it dissipates into the air just before hitting you
> You don’t know why his attacks aren’t working, but you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth
> Your next shot is more aimed than your last, piercing through the guard’s eye
> The unicorns stumbles awkwardly for a bit, before falling sideways into the dirt
> You lower your bow, feeling the tension of the last few moments fade away
> You suppress a small shudder. You’ve never killed a sentient creature before. You knew what you did wasn’t wrong, they intended to kill you as well.
> You loathed these p0nies, you hated what they did to you, but it still left a foul taste in your mouth. You didn’t like it.
> No time to wallow though, you need to get to Gilda
> You reenter the alleys, resuming your sprint
> That fight with the unicorn puzzled you. Why didn’t his attacks work?
> Did he make a mistake? No, he looked genuinely confused when the spell dissipated, something caused it to fail.
> You felt like you knew the answer, what was it…
> Wait, what did that zebra say?
> “As long as your person it adorns”
> “You will be shielded from those with horns”
> It was the meteorite! ‘Those with horns’ meant unicorns! The stone must shield you from magic! So that’s why the unicorn’s attacks failed.
> This revelation filled you with newfound confidence. Magic was always the one thing you couldn’t fight against, your total weakness since arriving here, but now you had a way to resist it.
> As you enter the griffon quarter, you notice there are far less craters and burning tents around. In the streets, you notice several wrecked chariots, as well as many fallen pegasi guards.
> It seems the griffons were actually making a fight of it.
> You follow the sounds of fighting, leading you deeper into the network of tents.
> Finally you find the battle, a massive swarm of pegasi and griffons churned overhead in an intense dogfight.
> The griffons were outnumbered at least two to one, but they were bigger, and their claws were proving far more effective than hooves in the melee.
> Still, the weight of numbers was beginning to weigh on them. You see a griffon crash into a collapsed tent, two pegasi clinging to his back
> It was a close fight, the slightest nudge could mean victory for either side
> You skid to a halt and pick your targets. You rapidly loose three arrows into the sky, and three pegasi fall to the ground.
> Now the momentum was fully with the griffons. The battle quickly turned into a complete rout as the pegasi scattered in every direction.
> Some griffons chase the fleeing guards, while most land in the streets around you
> “Anon!” Gilda shouts, gliding to the ground in front of you. Her white coat and talons were stained with blood, her feathers slightly disheveled.
> “What are you doing here?” she asks, “When I saw the explosions I…”
“I’m fine,” you interrupt, “but we can’t stay here, we need to get moving”
> Gilda looks back at the group of griffons, shaking her head
> “No, I can’t.” she says, her voice firm, “Griffons don’t abandon each other in a fight, it isn’t honorable.”
> “You’ve already done more than enough today Gilda Swiftbeak.” A gruff voice replies.
> A large griffon steps toward the two of you. He was massive, almost as tall as you and heavily built. His coat was a dark charcoal grey , with a white head similar to Gilda’s
> The feather crown on his head was shorter though, the tips colored a faint crimson and splayed out at a wider angle
> “This is our home, it is our duty to fight for it.” He continues, “You’ve already represented the Swiftbeaks well, there is no shame in leaving now.”
“Swiftbeak?” you ask, confused
> “It’s my clan name.” Gilda explains
> The large griffon turns toward you, bowing his head slightly
> “My thanks to you as well. You are not a griffon, nor a member of any of our clans, yet you fought along side us.”
“It was no problem.” you reply, holding out your hand, “Name’s Anon, by the way.”
> He grasps it in a firm shake, smiling
> “I am Bengta, of the clan BloodEagle. You fight with great skill Anon, I hope we meet on the field of battle again in the future.”
“Uh, okay. Same to you.” You reply awkwardly, “But what are you going to do now?”
> “We’ll salvage what we can here.” He answers, “Then head out and rejoin whoever else made their escape.”
“Good luck to you then.” You say, bowing slightly
> You and Gilda turn and head out, leaving the scene of battle behind you.
> “By the way dweeb,” Gild began, “I got five.”
“Six.” You reply with a grin.
 
> Once you left the city of tents, the two of you broke off into a sprint, hoping to get away before you were spotted
> Luckily, the guards seemed too preoccupied within the camp to notice your escape. You could see the individual pegasi and chariots dart back and forth, dealing with what little resistance remained.
> You don’t stop running until the sun has begun to set, casting the prairie in an orange, golden light.
> Finally, exhaustion forces you to stop at a small watering hole.
> As you pant for breath, hands on your knees, you see Gilda walking toward you.
> Her expression is serious, almost angry
> “Alright Anon, I need an explanation.” She demands
“About what?” you ask
> “About you. You told me you’re not from here, and that Celestia wanted you dead, but I need the whole story.”
 “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” You answer sternly
> “Well that’s too bucking bad!” she snaps.
> “If we’re going to go through that,” she says, pointing back toward the market, now only a dark cloud of smoke in the distance, “I need to know why, I need to trust you.”
> You remain silent. You don’t know why, but that last part hurt.
> “I want to trust you.” Gild clarifies, her anger subsiding, “But you need to help me.”
> You sigh in defeat. She was right, she deserved to hear the story
“Alright, I’ll tell you. You better sit down, this will take a while.”
 
> By the time you finished recounting the events that transpired since you arrived in Equestria, the sun had long since set and the moon had risen high into the sky
> The steppe grows quiet as you finish your tale, only the faint chirping of crickets and the soft wind the grass breaking the silence
> Gilda didn’t say anything during your entire story, she simply listened as you spoke.
> Neither of you had started a fire, the only light came from the stars and moon above you
> You both sat there in silence as your words sank it
> “I had no idea.” Gilda finally said, sounding remorseful
> It hadn’t been easy to talk about what Twilight did, you had to stop several times to steady your breath.
“So you believe me then?”
> Gilda nods, her silhouette barely visible in the dim light
> “It sounds crazy, being from another world, but yes, I believe you. I know you weren’t lying about Rainbow Dash, that was just what she’d have done.”
“Did you know Rainbow Dash?” You ask.
> “Yeah, we were friends for a long time.” She answers, her voice heavy, “We went to flight camp together.”
> You had no idea what a flight camp was, but you let her continue her story
> “No one knew about my diet, I would only hunt on the weekends. But Dash got suspicious, one week she followed me out and discovered what I had been doing.”
> “I expected her to run, or scream, or tell the others. But she didn’t, she stayed. She didn’t understand, but she wanted to. She didn’t give up on me.”
> Gilda chuckled to herself, “She was always loyal like that.”
“I owe a lot to her. I wouldn’t have gotten out of there if she hadn’t helped.”
> You both sat there in silence, listening to the gentle noises of the night.
> “I think I’m going to call it a night anon,” Gilda said, standing up, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too. Goodnight Gilda.”

Part (20)

> You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves
> You clear your throat, hands clenched at your sides
“Dad,” you begin, your voice shaking, “I need your help.”
> His face remains passive, showing no reaction
“You taught me I needed to find my own path, that I need to control my own destiny”
> The words start to come tumbling out, faster and louder as you continued
“You showed me how to find my way no matter where I was, so I would never be lost.”
> Your voice is rising, starting to grow angry
> You want to stop, to just calm down. But you can’t, that’s not the way things happened.
“You showed me how to walk, but I don’t know where to go!” you shout
> He doesn’t say anything, you knew he wouldn’t
> You slam your hands on the edge of the coffin, years of frustration taking over
“Dammit dad! How could you go? I still need you! I need you to show me where to go!”
> The tears were flowing freely now, spilling onto your suit
> You could hear the hushed whispers behind you, you knew you were making a scene
> You knew that they were watching
> You didn’t care then, you didn’t care now
> But there was something else.
> She was here
> You could feel her watching.
> She shouldn’t be here. This was your memory. This was your life.
> She had no right to be here
> You didn’t want her here
“Get out…” you whisper
> The murmuring stops behind you, you were deviating from the memory
“Get out.” You command, your voice growing firm.
> Details begin to drop out of focus, the world growing blurry
 “I SAID GET OUT!” 
 
> You bolt upright, your body covered in sweat despite the cool night air
> You look around, checking your surroundings
> You were back on the steppe, the soft breeze rustling through the grass
> The mountains of Gryphonia were visible on the horizon as a great swathe of starless sky.
> You were close now, you would only be a couple weeks before you were out of Equestria.
> You shudder, trying to steady your heavy breathing
> How long was this going to go on? How long would these nightmares plague you?
> They weren’t even bad memories, many of them were of friends and family
> But you couldn’t recall any of them without being reminded of what Twilight did to you, without feeling like she was still watching.
> That was the greatest scar, she twisted even your fondest memories into nightmares.
> You wondered if you’d ever get them back
> You lay back down on the bedroll, trying to make up for lost sleep
 
> Finally, the long expanse of grassland was broken as you neared the mountain chain
> A thick conifer forest grew in the foothills, the ground covered in a soft layer of fallen pine needles and moss
> The smooth trunks of the pins towered above you, their branches casting a complex pattern of shadows over your surroundings.
> You felt relieved to be back under the canopy of trees, back in the environment you were experienced with
> The two of you followed glacier fed streams through valleys and canyons, the mountains dominating the skyline in front of you. 
> You were eager for this journey to finally be over. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry everyday if you would be captured by those damn p0nies. You would finally be free.
> And not a moment too soon, the seasons were beginning to change.  You noticed the days were growing progressively colder and shorter, fall was in full swing now.
> You weren’t prepared to survive a winter on your own, you would need a place to stay. How you were going to manage that, you weren’t sure, but one day at a time.
> At least the change in season brought new game. Migratory birds began making their way south over the mountains, and proved to be just a stupid as the ones from back home.
> And so you found yourself enjoying a fine roasted goose, sitting on a moss covered boulder
> “I’m just saying,” Gilda said between bites of her own meal, “I don’t see how hunting with that weird stick thing can be enjoyable.”
“For the last time, it’s called a bow.” You retort, “And it is enjoyable, I like the challenge.”
> “But there’s no thrill! No chase!” Gilda responds, gesturing with her talons, “You just sneak up and shoot it! There’s no fun in that.”
> You take a swig from the canteen, preparing your response
“Sneaking up on prey is fun. It takes skill” you answer back, “Not that you would know. You just divebomb the first thing you see, screeching for all the world to hear.”
> “The world needs to know how awesome I am.” Gilda brags, tossing a bone behind her, “Speaking of which, we need to work on your battle cry, it’s pretty pathetic.”
“I’ll get right on that.” You sarcastically reply
> You both return to your meals, content to let the verbal stalemate rest.
> However, you get that strange feeling again, when your subconscious notices something you haven’t.
> You straighten up, straining your ears to listen
> You can just make out the sounds of something moving through the brush
> It’s movements are purposeful and deliberate, not the random wanderings of some animal
> Someone is coming
> Your rise from your seat, grabbing your bow
> Gilda is on alert as well, her wings flared and back arched
> Whoever is out there is still coming toward you at a calm pace
> You drum your fingers anxiously on the taught bowstring, awaiting their arrival
> Finally, the figure comes into view, your breath seizing in your chest
> Surprise quickly turns to disbelief, before melting into pure unbridled hatred
> Your hands shake with barely controlled rage, tentatively held back by the force of will
> Somehow you knew this day would come.
> Of course it would be now, only when you were so close to being done.
> Finally you manage to speak, forcing the words through clenched teeth
“Hello Twilight.”
> “Hello Anon,” she answered, her voice dripping with contempt, “It’s been a long time.”

Part (21)

> Rage boiled inside you, it took every ounce of your willpower not to shoot Twilight immediately
> But first you needed answers
“How did you find me?” you demand, tightening the grip on your bow
> “The arrows at the market,” Twilight explains, her voice cold, “You’re the only one who uses a weapon like that.”
> “Being so far north, it only made sense you were heading to Gryphonia. After teleporting to the market, I simply had to follow the remains from your camps north.”
> “It was easy really, you left a lot of evidence.” she elaborates, “Pretty sloppy work Anon, your father taught you better than that.”
“You don’t get to talk about my father!” you snap, anger building
> “You’re going to pay for what you did Twilight.” Gilda threatened, claws digging into the dirt
> “Oh, hello Gilda.” Twilight said dismissively, as if noticing her for the first time, “It figures you would team up with it, you have so much in common.
> There it was again, that damn ‘it’
> “I can’t believe I actually welcomed you into P0nyville,” Twilight continues, sounding disgusted, “If I had known what a monster you really were…”
> “I’m going to flay you alive for that.” Gilda sneered
“No Gilda.”
> Gilda turns toward you, confused
“I need you to stand out on this one.”
> “What?” she exclaims, outraged, “Are you trying to showboat here Anon? I’m not going to stand aside and let her-“
“Gilda,” you cut her off, your voice stern, “I need to do this myself.”
> You look her in the eye, those golden irises full of determination and fury 
“Please Gilda.”
> She meets your gaze, silent for a few moments
> “Alright, fine.” She consents
> “But if you kick the bucket on this,” she continues, jabbing your chest with one claw, “I’m never going to forgive you.”
 “I got this.” You nod
> With a mighty flap from her wings, Gilda launches herself straight up into the air, disappearing above the branches
> “Aw, how touching.” Twilight taunts
“Shut up.” You answer, drawing your bow, “Get ready.”
> “I should have done this a long time ago.” Twilight sneers, leveling her horn, “Sparing you even for a moment was a mistake.”
“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.” You reply, taking aim
> Twilight fired first, sending a blast of magical energy straight at your chest
> The guard unicorn’s attack paled in comparison to this. While his was a bolt, Twilight’s was a veritable lightning blast.
> The air burned and ionized as it arced toward you, but you held your ground, trusting the stone in your pocket to do it’s job
> Sure enough, mere inches before impact, the spell fizzled out into nothingness
> Twilight stared in shock, seeing her attack fail so completely
“Sorry! No magic!” you taunt, releasing the arrow
> The arrow flew forth, heading straight for her throat
> Twilight reacted quickly, forming a magical barrier around her, stopping the arrow and letting it fall harmlessly to the ground
> Damn, you should have expected her to have magical defenses. At least she can’t attack, you’ll break through eventually
> Twilight glared at you, her horn lighting up once again
> Instead of another magical bolt, multiple large stones and logs lifted themselves from the ground, hovering around her.
> Oh fuck, she may not be able to effect you, but she can still effect the things around you
> Twilight began launching the makeshift projectiles at you in a thick barrage
> You dodge desperately, fist sized rocks whizzing past your head at deadly speeds
> You roll for cover, diving into the thick foliage for protection
> The barrage stops as Twilight loses track of you, her eyes scanning the brush for the slightest sign of movement
> A direct approach isn’t going to work here, you need to surprise her, get past her defenses.
> You slowly draw another arrow, stealthily working your way around for a better shot
> “You can’t beat me Anon!” Twilight taunted, levitating more ammunition around her, “I know everything about you! I know you better than you know yourself!”
> “For example,” she continued, “That is a recurve bow, draw weight of fifty pounds. You built it when you were sixteen with wood from a tree in your back yard. You can shoot an aimed shot once every seven seconds.”
> Your gut wrenches. She was right, she had seen all of your memories. She knew everything about you
> “Right now you’re relying on stealth in favor of a direct attack. You’re stalking me like prey being hunted. But I’ve noticed something even you haven’t about the way you hunt.”
> She turned suddenly, looking straight at you
> “You always circle to the right!”
> She resumes the onslaught, sending rocks and debris tearing through the brush
> You duck and stumble awkwardly, caught off guard by the sudden attack
> The projectiles hammer into your body, knocking the breath out of you. It felt like your ribcage was being shattered.
> A rock smashes into your forehead. Your vision swims as blood begins running down your face
> You stumble backwards, desperately clinging to consciousness
> You barely make out Twilight levitate your fallen arrow into the air, sending it straight at your face
> You turn your head to dodge, the arrow missing your eye by mere centimeters
> But it was still several centimeters too little
> You howl in pain as the broadhead slices through your ear, shearing off cartilage and tearing flesh
> Another rock smashes into your wrist, sending your bow flying from your grasp
> No! You can’t lose your bow!
> You clumsily dive for your weapon, arm outstretched
> Just before your fingers brush against the smooth wood, the bow is snatched away in a faint purple aura
> You watch as the bow floats over to Twilight, stopping above her head
> Twilight grins as the bow begins to slowly flex, bending farther than it was ever intended to.
> It physically hurt to watch. You had that bow for years. Thousands of hours of shooting had made it an extension of your body. This was like watching your own arm being cut off.
> With a sickening *CRACK*, the bow snaps in half, the two limbs falling to the floor.
> Pure dread takes over. You lost your bow. Without it, what could you do?
> You could call for Gilda, but she would be at Twilight’s mercy without the meteorite’s protection.
> You dive behind a tree as Twilight resumes her bombardment, the projectiles thundering against the trunk
> You’re body was beaten and bruised. Hot blood ran down the side of your face, staining the shoulder of your coat
> You couldn’t run, you’d never get far in this condition.
> You slowly come to a cold realization
> Twilight had you completely at her mercy
> There was nothing you could do
> It was inevitable from the beginning
> You were going to die here
> No
> No, you refuse
> Fuck you, fate
> FUCK YOU, DESTINY
> You unsheathe your knife, clenching your teeth
> You’re not done, not yet
> You still have some fight left in you
> You grip the hilt tightly as Twilight continues to shoot debris against the trunk, the wood beginning to chip and splinter
> A crazy plan forms in your head, but you’ll take crazy at this point
> Twilight may know everything about you, but she’ll never understand you
> You turn around and begin climbing the tree, your beaten body groaning in protest
> You push through the pain, you need to be a just the right height for this to work
> Twilight sees your movement, halting her barrage
> “You won’t be able to hide up there Anon!” she calls out
> True, I normally only climb tree to hide, but I’m not hiding this time.
> You continue to work your way upward, the abused trunk creaking beneath you from the added weight
> Twilight closes her eyes in concentration, the large boulder you sat on earlier slowly rising into the air
> With visible strain, she hurls the boulder at the base of the tree
> The trunk shatters in a shower of wooden splinters
> The tree sways precariously as you cling to the branches.
> You lean forward, using your weight to direct the fall
> Your stomach shifts as the tree accelerates, falling to the ground
> Twilight’s eyes go wide as she realizes your plan, but it’s far too late now
> You leap from the falling tree, sailing through the air with your knife raised high, unleashing a mighty war cry
> Twilight raises her magical barrier as you plummet down on her
> You bring down the blade at the last moment, focusing all your strength and momentum into this one strike
> The metal clashes against the magical shield, sending arcs of energy in all directions
> The shield held for a moment, before shattering with a sound like breaking glass
> The released energies send you flying onto your back as the tree crashes into the ground, shaking the earth around you
> Twilight stumbles backwards, her eyes unfocused and her head rolling
> You leap back onto your feet, running forward and closing the distance
> Before Twilight regains her composure, you tackle her, smashing your left fist into her face
> You pin her under your arm as she falls onto her back.
> She struggles, trying the get off a spell, but she’s too close to you and the stone.
> You press the knife against her throat, stopping her protests
 “Why…” you hiss, blood from your wounds dripping into her face
> She remains silent, her eyes full of hate and loathing
“Why?” you repeat, your voice growing firmer
> She refuses to speak, her gaze challenging you
> You life her up by the scruff of her neck, slamming her back into the earth
“Dammit, why?” you shout, your composure breaking, “Why can’t you and Celestia just leave me alone? I was leaving! I don’t want anything to do with you damn p0nies!
> “Celestia…called off the search... weeks ago.” Twilight wheezed out from under your choking grasp
“Then why are you here? What do you want?” you demand, loosening your grip so she can talk
> “I wanted you to pay for what you did,” Twilight sneers, “For what you caused.”
> You raise her into the air again and slam her down
“I have done nothing!” you scream into her face, “I never did anything to you!”
 > “You took Rainbow from me!” Twilight shouts back
> Her response renders you speechless for a few moments
“Explain. Now.”
> “You couldn’t have escaped on your own. You must have had help.” Twilight elaborates, beginning to rant, “It didn’t take long to pin down Rainbow.”
> “She confessed too. At her trail she yelled at Celestia! She was charged with treason!”
> Tears begin forming in her eyes, from both grief and hatred
> “I watched her hang! I watched her die because of you! It’s your fault!”
 
> You were stunned. Rainbow Dash was executed? For helping you?
> And Twilight blamed you… was it really your fault?
> No, Rainbow knew the consequences of her actions, it was her choice
> It wasn’t your fault
> But it still filled you with rage. Rainbow was killed for doing the right thing. She was the first understanding p0ny you ever met.
> You owed your very life to her, and now she was dead
“You could have done something to stop it.” You growl at Twilight.
> “But she confessed!” Twilight shouts, “What could I have possibly done?”
“Something! Anything! You stood by and let it happen!”
> “I didn’t just stand by! I testified! I told everyone what you were! I told them what horrible monster she unleashed!”
> If you were angry before, it didn’t hold a candle to your seething fury now
> You tighten the grip on her neck, nearly squeezing the lie out of her
“You testified against your own friend, and you blame me for what happened!?!” you scream into her face, “You’re a sick bastard Twilight!”
> You raise your knife high into the air, the gleaming blade catching the sunlight
“I’m putting an end to this once and for all!”
> You couldn’t force yourself to bring down the knife all those months ago
> Now, it was so easy.
> Twilight howls in pain as you strike her with the knife
> You raise it into the air again, bringing it down in another savage strike
> Twilight squirms and struggles beneath your grip, but she can’t escape from under your weight
> You continue to strike again and again, letting your anger and fury take over
> You hated her, you hated her so much
> She tortured you
> She twisted your memoires into nightmares
> She tried to kill you
> She let your savior die
> You wanted to make sure she could never harm anyone again
> Tears of grief, pain, and anger stream down Twilight’s face
> It doesn’t move you. You were far beyond having any pity for her
> The knife became stuck, refusing to budge
> You work the blade back and forth, trying to free it
> The movements cause Twilight to enter another bout of painful wails
> Finally, with a loud *CRACK* the blade comes free, Twilight’s severed horn falling into the dirt.
> You stand up, pocketing the broken and cracked horn
> You don’t know if they could reattach it, better be sure they can’t
> Twilight looks at you with bloodshot and ragged eyes, her face streaked from tears
> “Why?” she asks, gingerly rising to her feet, her voice hoarse
“I’m not going to become the monster you think I am Twilight.” You answer, collecting the remnants of your bow from the ground
“Not matter what you do to me. No matter how much you torment and push me, I will never give in.”
> You point at her forehead, at the cracked stub that was once her horn.
“I want you to remember, every moment of every day, that I could have killed you. I want you to never forget that you were wrong about me.”
> Twilight glares at you with that same burning hatred, but there’s something else, resignation
> She knows the can’t do anything now, it’s over
> It’s finally over
> With a defeated sigh, she turns to walk away
> She only makes a few steps before you hear something above the canopy
> The soft flapping of wings, followed by an avian screech of fury and rage
> A brown blur pierces through the branches, pouncing upon Twilight.
> Gilda holds Twilight up by the base of her neck, her other talon closed around her throat
> “No!” Gilda shouts, “She doesn’t get to walk away from here!”
“Gilda! What are you doing?” you ask, running over to her
> Twilight kicks feebly in the air, gasping for breath
> “I’m not letting her get away!” Gild continues, raising her claw behind her, “She’s going to pay for what she let happen to Rainbow, and for what she did to you!”
“Gilda, no!” you command, grabbing her wrist
> Gilda turns toward you, murderous intent in her eyes, “Let go of me Anon! She deserves to die!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” You answer, holding her wrist firm, “Don’t you think I wanted to kill her?”
> You look into Gilda’s eyes, trying to reach her.
“But we’re better than this,” you continue, your voice growing soft, “You’re better than this Gilda.”
> Gilda’s struggles against your grip slowly grow weaker as you stare into each other
“Don’t prove them right. Please” you plead, “This isn’t what Rainbow would’ve wanted.”
> You could see the anger slowly melt away in Gilda’s eyes
> With a cry of frustration, she drops Twilight unto the ground
> Twilight coughs and sputters, trying to regain her breath
> “Leave” Gilda commands, her voice impassive
> Twilight slowly rises to her feet and begins awkwardly walking away
> “I said scram!” Gild shouts, sending Twilight running into the foliage
 
> You stand up, sheathing you knife and painfully cracking your back
> Your bout with Twilight seems to have opened old wounds, and well as give you some new ones
> You had accumulated countless black bruises all over your body, and almost all the cartilage of your left ear had been torn off.
> You take a few steps back and inspect your work
> You were in small grassy clearing at the crest of a hill. You had a sweeping view of the pine forest, the mountains of Gryphonia standing majestically behind you
> You and Gilda both agreed this was a good spot
> In the center of the clearing was a large boulder, a simple inscription etched into the surface
RAINBOW DASH
981L.B. – 01A.B.
A TRUE AND LOYAL FRIEND
> Traitors in Equestria don’t get graves. Rainbow deserved to have this at least
> You shift your feet awkwardly, you were always bad at these sort of things
> Clearing your throat, you begin
“Hey Rainbow Dash, it’s Anon. I know we never got the chance to know each other… but I wish we did.”
> You take a deep breath. You can get through this.
“I never truly got to thank you either. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for what you did, for what you gave up for me.”
> You reach behind you, taking out a small bundled of broken wood and string
“I wanted to give you this… it’s my old bow. I know it’s broken, but it got me through a lot. Maybe it will give you luck…wherever you are.”
> You kneel down, placing the bundle at the base of the boulder
“I promise you Rainbow, I won’t waste what you’ve given me. I promise.”
> You stand up, walking over to where Gilda stood a few feet away.
> She kept her gaze fixed on the horizon. She hadn’t spoken in for a long time.
“You going to be ok Gilda?” you ask
> “Griffons… Griffons don’t cry” she croaks, her voice breaking
> Her voice was like a stab to your heart. She was putting on a brave face, but you could hear the great pain and sadness in her voice
> You didn’t know Rainbow, her passing still hurt you, but that couldn’t compare to the grief that Gilda was facing right now.
> You wanted to help. You and Gilda watched out for each other, that’s just what you did. You needed to do something to ease the pain.
> You look upwards at the sunny, flawless blue sky
“Looks like rain.” You comment
> Gilda looks at you, confused
> “What…What are you talking about?”
“Yup, looks like it could rain any second now.” You repeat, keeping your eyes turned toward the sky
> Gilda turns away, divining your meaning
> You keep looking upward, listening to the rain begin to fall

Part (22)

> You grunt in exertion, pulling yourself higher up the stone face
> Your sore fingers search for another handhold, the wind whipping around you
> The air was colder up here, but the sun’s rays warmed your back as you climbed
> This was it, the final hurdle, once you got over this mountain you were in Gryphonia
> Your multi-month trek was nearly over
> Unfortunately, this was the only way into Gryphonia. Griffons didn’t build roads, or even make trails. When your entire race can fly, what’s the point?
> Your boot scrapes against the granite surface, searching for a stable support
> A little over a week had passed since your confrontation with Twilight
> You decided not to seek revenge for Rainbow’s passing. You promised her long ago you wouldn’t go after any p0nies, and you intended to honor that to the end.
> A gust of wind blows up the cliff face, threatening to dislodge you from your precarious perch
> You desperately cling to the rock, your hands cramping from the hours of climbing
> You hear a small chuckle from over your shoulder
> “Having some trouble there anon?” Gilda teased, hovering in the air behind you
“Shut up Gilda.” You retort, your voice shaking far too much for your liking, “You know I hate heights”
> “I still don’t get that,” Gilda says as you continue your slow progress up the mountain, “You climb trees all the time.”
> “Trees I’m fine with.” You explain, searching for another handhold, “Its two hundred foot falls of certain death I have a problem with.”
> “Well can you at least hurry up?” Gilda complains, “I could’ve flown up to the top hours ago.”
> You grumble in annoyance, refusing to respond
> Gilda can tell she’s getting to you, she prods further for a reaction
> “Come on dweeb, you can do it! Work those freaky fingers of yours.” She cheers, imitating a typical sports coach
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” you growl
> “Me? Enjoy watching you climb up a mountain?” She repeats with a tone of mock sincerity, “What kind of Griffon do you think I am?”
“I actually have quite the list, would you like to hear it?” you reply
> “What I would LIKE is for you to get moving.” She snaps back, dropping the act
“If you’re in such a rush, why don’t you just carry me?” You ask, pausing for breath, “I’ve seen you carry larger game before.”
> “Carry you? And miss out on this prime entertainment? Pass.” Gilda answers
“So you admit you are enjoying this.” You reply with a sly grin.
> Gilda stammers for a bit, trying to work out of the verbal dead-end she walked into
> With an annoyed huff, she crosses her arms over her chest and looks away
> You grin as you focus back on your climbing, you usually won these little verbal spats you two had.
> The cliff slowly begins to level out, becoming more of a steep slope than a cliff.
> You can actually move without handholds now, the friction of your boots keeping you from sliding
> Gilda flies forward, stopping at the level peak of the mountain
> You move forward quickly on all fours, trying to catch up
> As you near the top, a rock gives way under your foot, causing you to fall onto your stomach
> You scramble desperately for a handhold as you rapidly slide down the slope
“shitshitshitshtshitSHITSHITSHITSHIT!”
> “I gotcha! I gotcha!” Gilda cries, diving forward
> You pass over the cliff, feeling completely weightless for a moment, before Gilda grasps your wrist
> You dangle from the edge, legs flailing in the air
> Your stomach churns as you see at the ground hundreds of feet below you
> “Anon!” Gilda shouts from above you, “Don’t let go!”
“I wasn’t planning on it!” you shout back, grabbing her other talon
> Gilda begins slowly pulling you back over the edge, flapping her wings for extra lift
> “You need to go on a diet Anon” she jokes
“Less talking, more pulling.” You shoot back
> With Gilda’s help, you make it safely to the top, grateful for the mostly level surface
> You take a deep breath, trying not to imagine the grisly fate you narrowly avoided
 “Thanks, G. That was close.”
> “Don’t mention it Anon, just being awesome like always.” Gilda brags, holding her head high
> You roll your eyes at her typical bravado, sitting down on a nearby boulder to rest your weary legs.
> You open your canteen, taking a swig of the metallic tasting water.
> “Hey Anon,” Gilda says, beginning to walk forward, “Follow me for a sec, you need to see this.”
> You rise to your feet, resenting leaving your seat, and follow Gilda
> You walk over the rocky surface, climbing over boulders and crunching thorough small patches of stubborn snow.
> Gilda stops at another cliff face, gesturing forward with her claw
> “Welcome,” she begins, her voice swelling with pride, “to Gryphonia”
> Your breath was taken away by the magnificent view before you
> Massive, snow tipped mountains towered into the sky. The clouds parted and swirled around their jagged peaks
> Waterfalls tumbled from the cliff faces, spilling into small streams below
> Between the mountains were sweeping valleys, filled with thick pine forests and dotted with ponds and lakes
> The air was pure, clean and crisp. It carried the faint scent of pine needles and wet stone
> The entire landscape seemed proud, strong, and indomitable.
 “It’s…beautiful.” You comment, sitting down of the ground.
> “Yeah, it is.” Gilda agrees, sitting beside you, “I forgot how much I missed it here.”
> You both sit there in silence, content to drink in the majestic landscape
 “Hey Gilda,” you say, breaking the silence, “I just thought of something.”
> “That’s a first.” She jokes
“You just saved my life back there.” You continue, ignoring the jibe
> “Yeah, so?”
“So, you’ll probably be taking off soon won’t you?”
> “Why would I do that?” she asks, confused
“Because now your life debt is fulfilled.” You point out, “I saved your life, now you’ve saved mine”
> Gilda chuckles, “Dude, that was paid off months ago.”
“What? When?”
> “Back when that meteor struck.” She explains, “If I didn’t tackle you, you would have been flattened.”
> You’re silent for a few moments, confused by this revelation
“Then, why did you stick around? Through all the running and fighting, why did you stay?”
> “Because,” she answers, looking away, “You saved my life.”
“But you just said the life debt was paid off.”
> “Forget the stupid debt. It’s not about that.” Gilda says, turning back toward you, “When those wolves had me surrounded, you could have just left, but you didn’t. You didn’t abandon me when things got tough.”
> She looks you straight in the eye, your chest tightening under her gaze
> “No one has ever done that before.” She finishes, her voice tender
> You weren’t sure how to respond. This was a side of Gilda you hadn’t seen before, a softer side.
> You stare at each other, neither willing to speak
> Abruptly, Gilda breaks away, standing up.
> “Come on, we should find a place to camp before it gets dark.” She says, beginning to work her way down the slope.
“Right behind you Gilda.” You answer, following her steps
 
> Finding your way down the mountain ended up being a lot easier than working your way up.
> You found a much gentler slope leading down into one of the many valleys
> You met up with a small rocky stream late in the afternoon, deciding to make camp along its banks.
> You refilled your canteen from the flowing water, taking a long drink.
> Compared to the stale, metallic taste of the canteen, this was delicious. It was pure, crisp melt water.
> Feeling refreshed, you busied yourself by starting the cooking fire while Gilda hunted.
> You still hadn’t gotten a replacement for your bow, so you couldn’t hunt yourself, something Gilda was keen on repeatedly pointing out.
> You lean back near the small fire, feeling content. After months of constant travel, it was a relief to be free of the constant sense of urgency that pushed you forward.
> You feel even better when you realize you could actually visit the towns and villages here. You no longer had to hide in the wilderness from the locals.
> You could probably find a place to stay the winter in one of them. Maybe find a short term job to put some money in your pockets
> With that in mind, you pull the map you purchased out from your pack, rolling it out on the ground in front of you
> It didn’t take long to orient yourself. If you were on the southern border, then there were only a few villages nearby
> One of them was only a few days away, a small village by the name ‘VhaleStead’. It seemed like a good idea to head there, you’d run it by Gilda when she came back.
> You stow away the map just as Gilda returns, two hares grasped in her talons
> You get to work cleaning them as Gilda walks over to the stream
> You expected her to just wash off her talons, but she walks straight in, splashing through the shallow water
> She dunked her head under, splashing water over her back and ruffling her feathers. She gave her wings a few flaps, running them through the flowing current.
> She reminded you of a bird in a birdbath, not a far off comparison when you think about it.
> She emerged from the water just as you finished skewering the meat, shaking droplets of water from her coat.
> “Hey Anon,” she said, sitting down on the soft grass, “Can you come over here and help me preen?”
“Why can’t you do it?” you ask
> “I can do it just fine.” She answers, “But you’re good at it with those fingers of yours.”
> “Besides, I saved your life, so now you owe me a life debt.” She continues, “So get over here.”
“What? But I never gave you any orders!” you protest
> “Too bad, you should have.” She grins
> You grumble in defeat, leaving the food to roast and heading over to Gilda
> You take up position behind her as she spreads out her left wing
> You begin running your fingers through her soft feathers, realigning them into position and removing the ones that have come loose.
> You could feel her powerful muscles under your touch, gently stretching and contracting as you worked
> As your fingers reached the soft down beneath the feathers, you felt a faint rumbling from Gilda’s body
> Intrigued, you begin gently scratching the soft fluff, and are rewarded with another rumble from deep within Gilda’s chest
“Gilda, are you purring?” you ask, surprised
> “What? No. Shut up.” She hastily replies
> You press down on her wing, scratching more forcefully. Gilda’s back arches down, a long throaty purr escaping her beak
“You are! Gilda the mighty huntress in purring!” you taunt
> “Easy there dweeb, I can kick your ass any time.” Gilda threatens
“Ha! I’d like to see you try.” You challenge
> Abruptly, the wing is pulled out from your hands as Gilda quickly turns on you
>She pounces, knocking you backward and tumbling through the grass
> She tries to pin you down, but your worm your way out from under her.
> You tackled into her side, trying to force her into the ground.
> The two of you tussled and wrestled for several minutes, each of you trying to escape from the other’s grasp
> You leap onto her back, wrapping your arm her neck
> She shakes back and forth, trying to shake you off, but you hold firm.
> Suddenly her wings flare open, propelling herself into the air
> You sky whips past your vision as she flips onto her back, slamming you into the ground
> You gasp for air as the breath is knocked out of your chest
> Gilda quickly flips over, pinning your shoulders down with her talons
> She smiles triumphantly as you struggle under her grip, unable to break free
“Alright, alright, you win.” you concede, “Now can you ge-“
> You’re cut off as Gilda’s head shoots forward, her beak clamping around your mouth
>Your eyes widen in shock as her tongue forces its way inside, exploring the inside of your mouth
> She breaks away after a few moments, looking down on you with a seductive grin
> “Yeah, I just did that.” She breathes, “Now what are you going to do about it?”
> That was a good question, what were you going to do?
> You never really thought about Gilda like that. She was a griffon and you were a human, the thought simply never crossed your mind.
> But when she kissed you, it felt right somehow. The two of you had been through a lot together, you couldn’t deny there was a bond between you.
> You supported each other, you watched out for each other, but did you love each other?
> Looking back on it all, through all the competing, taunting, and running, it was obvious. You really did care for each other, and on a subconscious level, you did love Gilda.
> You smile up at Gilda, finally finding your answer
> Gilda takes your smile as a sign to continue, bringing her head back down to yours
> You take a more active role this time, your tongue fighting hers in a twisting battle for control
> You could have stayed here for hours, but you weren’t going to allow her to dominate you forever
> You press your feet against her stomach, pushing her off of you
> She landed on her back with a surprised squawk as you pounced atop her
> You lock your lips around her beak, Gilda softly moaning in pleasure as you take up the dominant position
> She clutched you tightly and rolled over, retaking her position above you and maintaining the embrace
> The competitive wrestling from earlier resumed with a new purpose. Rather than try to escape, you both pulled each other closer while vying for position.
> Your bodies churned and writhed for what seemed like hours, rolling through the soft grass
> Gilda’s claws dug into your back as you bared down on her, the soft tearing of fabric could be heard
> You gently push yourself away, both of you sweating and gasping for breath
“Hey, watch the clothes,” you warn, “I can’t exactly get them replaced.”
> Gilda looks up at you, her eyes gleaming and hungry, like a predator stalking it’s prey
> “Then lose them” she purrs
 
> You stared up at the night sky, the cool air softly blowing against your bare skin
> Gilda gently slept beside you, her head resting on your shoulder and her wing draped over your body
> You could feel the heat radiate from her body, warming you against the chill of the night
> Your entire body was sore and aching, but it was a good ache, the kind that followed a long day of satisfying work
> You also acquired a few large scratches on your back. Gilda tended to get a bit… clingy
> You stare up at the night sky, watching the northern lights dance among the stars
> You couldn’t deny the stars were beautiful here, even if they changed position every night
> Maybe you could get used to that though…

Epilogue (1)

> You creep through the bare undergrowth, boots crunching softly on the thin layer of snow
> You keep your eyes on your prey, a small doe, while maneuvering for a clean shot
> The doe paws at the ground, digging for the first green grasses of spring
> You pull back on your bow, the muscles of your back stretching from the strain
> This bow was much larger than your old one. It was a massive longbow, nearly six feet long with a draw weight of roughly one hundred pounds
> It was overkill for prey like this, but with a few encounters with the wild boars, grizzly bears, and giant eagles that prowled Gryphonia taught you the need for such massive stopping power
> You prop up the arrow with one finger as you draw back, a simple trick you learned long ago to avoid the sound of the shaft sliding against the bow
> Locking your hand behind your jaw, you steady your aim on the deer
> You fire, the arrow shooting forth with blinding speed
> It strikes the doe in the center of the heart, passing straight through and exiting on the other side.
> The doe doesn’t even have time to react, simply falling forward into the snow
> You sling your bow over your shoulder, stepping forward to collect your kill
> You kneel down, unsheathing your knife and begin to clean the deer
> It’s dirty work, by the time you’re done, there’s large steaming pile of entrails lying on the ground and your hands are covered in blood
> You scrub your hands clean in the snow. Grabbing a cold handful from a nearby bank, you wash off the blood that spilled onto your clothes
>Your old jacket wore out years ago, along with the rest of your clothes from back on earth.
> Now you wore a simple rabbit skin vest, along with a pair of rough fur trousers. Around your waist was a short wolf skin kilt.
> You heave the carcass up onto your shoulders, beginning the long hike back uphill
> You admired the scenery as you hiked, enjoying this unique time of year
> It was that special time of early spring, the sun was strong and warm, but the last remnant s of winter stubbornly refused to leave.
> The air was filled with the scents of life returning to the world, wild flowers and grasses just beginning to push up through the thin layer of remaining snow
> The birds sing in the thick conifers, joined by the first migratory birds to return home from their southern voyage.
> You keep hiking uphill toward one the many mountains that surrounded the valley
> Signs of civilization slowly began to appear around you, the faint smell of smoke, the occasional tree stump
> You eventually started passing the few small Griffon farms. They were more like large gardens than proper farms.
> You were exceedingly grateful for their presence nonetheless. The griffon diet consisted mostly of meat, vegetables were considered an optional luxury. 
> That wasn’t an option for you however, you needed greens. The farmers were always grateful for your continued patronage, waving as you passed by into town
> You soon arrive back at the village of Vhalestead, a small community nestled in the foothills of the mountain.
> The buildings seemed Scandinavian in design. The houses were built from sturdy timber, with cobblestone foundations and simple thatched roofs
> You made your way along the wide pathways between the buildings, the sharp clang of a smith’s hammer sounding in the distance
> A few griffons crossed the sky above you, heading about their daily business
> One of them dived toward you, letting out a short avian screech in greeting
> Each griffon’s call was unique. After a while, you could identify many of the griffons in town by sound alone 
> You wave back as the griffon lands on the ground beside you, matching your stride
> His entire coat was a pale smoky grey. His crown feathers were tipped with a dark black, with a similar coloration around his eyes.
> His coat was covered in sawdust like always, contributing to his dusty appearances
 “Hey Espen,” you greet, “You done at the sawmill for today?”
> “Yeah, just finished.” He confirms, hungrily eyeing the deer on your back, “Thought I’d drop by to…just chat a bit…”
“Really?” you ask, suspicious, “So you didn’t fly down here because you saw I had venison and were hoping to snag a ‘free sample’?”
> “Of course not.” He denies, “But if you’re offering…”
 “Sorry Espen,” you interrupt, slapping away his reaching talon, “you’ll have to head to the market later if you want any.”
> “Who’s working the stall today?” he asks
“It’s Gilda’s turn.” You answer
> “Aw, but Gilda never gives me any samples!” he whines
“Exactly.” You reply, grinning
> He grumbles complaints under his breath as you continue on your way
> “Oh hey, did you hear there’s going to be a feast in the mead hall this Friday?” he asks, changing the subject
“No, what’s the occasion?”
> “Gjurd finally got accepted as a housecarl for the jarl of Hjaaldor” he explains
“About time, he’s been vying for that position for years.” You comment, “How did Gerda react?”
> “She took the opportunity to propose, he accepted of course.” He answers, pointing at the necklace resting against your chest, “First you and now Gjurd, at this rate I’ll be the last bachelor around here in no time.”
> Your necklace was pretty simple, a thin cord decorated with small beads and polished stones
> In the center was a large, lavender tipped feather from Gilda’s crown. It was the symbol you were a bonded pair, the closest thing Griffon’s had to marriage
> You fondly remember the night Gilda presented it, you’ll never forget what she said,
> “You’re mine dweeb, I see you with another Griffon and I’ll flay you alive.”
> Yeah, she was never much of the romantic
> “So, will you be there?” Espen asks
“Wouldn’t miss it. Just make sure someone keeps Ivan away from the mead, if he starts singing again I’ll probably go deaf.”
> You both chuckle at the memory of the last feast you attended, Ivan’s off key and bawdy singing fresh in your minds
> The two of you go your separate ways near your house, Espen taking off back into the sky
> Your house was fairly modest. The first floor had a kitchen and general lounging area, a stone fireplace built into the east wall. The large loft was converted into two bedrooms
> You walked around into the backyard, stringing the deer up on a horizontal wooden beam
> Gilda would be back soon to take today’s game to the market, which left you with a little spare time.
> You noticed the pile of firewood near the back door was a tad low. You might as well be productive while you waited.
> You gathered an armful of logs and carried them over to a nearby stump.
> Dropping them onto the ground, you picked up the nearby woodaxe
> You positioned a log atop the stump and took a step back.
> You heaved the axe over your head, bringing it down in a might chop
> The log is cut cleanly in down the center, the two halves falling to the side
> You place another log on the stump, preparing another swing when you hear a soft rustling behind you
> You look over your shoulder for the perpetrator, but see nothing.
> You smile to yourself. The game is afoot.
> You bring the axe down on the log. You faintly hear movement to your left over the sound of splitting wood.
> Good, she using the noise to cover her movements. She’s improving.
> You set up another log, raising the axe above your head. You slow your swing for just a moment, altering the timing of your strike.
> Her timing was off. You hear movement briefly behind the rain barrel near the wood pile. Of course she would be there, it was her favorite spot, but it was starting to get predictable.
> You whistle a simple tune while you gather up the kindling, feigning ignorance
> Perhaps you were hamming it up a bit, but you might as well play along
> You carry the wood over to the pile, preparing for the inevitable strike
> Sure enough, as you pass the rain barrel, something small and feathery collides with the back of your head
> You dramatically throw the wood forward, stumbling and twirling around as the miniature assailant grips your head
> You hear soft giggling behind you as you come to a stop in the center of the yard
> “I got you dad! I got you!” the tiny griffon proclaims from your shoulders, resting her head and arms atop you head
“Ha, yes you did Beata, good job.”
 > You reach up and scratch the back of her head, causing her to purr contently
> Gilda glides down into the yard, chuckling at the scene and smiling at the two of you
> She wore a necklace identical to yours, a lock of your hair in place of a feather
“So, what did you and mom do today?” you ask as Beata leaps down from her perch
> “Mom showed me how to catch fish from the river” Beata answers, beaming up at you
> Beata showed many similarities to you had Gilda. She had Gilda’s white head, along with the lavender coloration on the tips of her crown feathers. However, she lack the coloration around Gilda’s eyes.
> Her coat was a light golden brown, similar to your hair. Her eyes were also yours, a deep clear blue.
“That sounds fun.” you answer, picking the wood back up from the ground and turning to Gilda, “How’d she do?”
> “Good. She caught a few small trout within a few hours.” Gilda replies, smiling down at Beata, “She’s becoming quite the hunter.”
“Of course she is.” You affirm, dumping the kindling onto the wood pile, “She’s daddy’s little chick.”
> “Dad!” Beata whines, embarrassed, “I’m not a little chick anymore.”
“I know that.” You say, kneeling down and tussling the feathers on her head, “But you’ll always be my little chick. You were so adorable back then.”
> “I was not adorable” Beata pouts, pushing your hand away.
> “Oh yes you were!” you taunt, rising to your feet, “I remember when you were just a little ball of ruffled brown feathers, you would nest in the hood of my coat whenever I went into town.”
> “Can I go play with my friends?” Beata asks, eager to change the topic
“Of course, just be back in time for dinner. We’re having venison.”
> “Thanks Dad!” she shouts, already eagerly running off
> As Beata rounds the corner of the house, Gilda drapes her arms over your shoulders, affectionately nibbling your good ear.
> “She really is doing good.” Gilda says as you reach behind you and scratch the back of her head, “I’m proud of her.”
“So am I” you agree, “She’s going to do just fine.”
> “Her friend Ingrid invited her to an overnight party tomorrow.” Gilda continues, “She asked me if she could go.”
“I’m fine with that.” You assent
> “Good.” Gilda purrs into your ear, running her talons across your chest, “Then that means it’s just the two of us that night.”
“Looking forward to it.” You grin
 
> That night you lay on a thick fur rug, watching the flames dance in the fireplace
> Gilda snuggled peacefully next to you, her head resting on your shoulder as you gently stroked her soft coat 
> Beata laid down a few feet to your left, sleepily batting at a ball of yarn with her claw
> The soft crackling of the fire mixed with the faint chorus of crickets outside, creating a soothing serenade
> Your mind wandered as you stared into glowing logs, pondering questions you never found answers for
> You never did find out how you arrived in this world
> You never did find a way to go back
> But as you looked at the Griffon you love, and at the beautiful daughter born of that love…
> You knew it wouldn’t matter if you ever found a way back
> Because there was no place you would rather be
> You were finally home. 
THE END

Epilogue (2)

> You rub your hands nervously as you stand outside the simple wooden door
> Your palms were sweaty, your heart beating rapidly in your chest
> A wild mixture of emotions ran through you, excitement, apprehension, joy, fear, hope…
> You took a deep breath, you knew this day would come
> You were looking forward to it, but now that it came, you were plagued by worry and doubt.
> Would you be able to do this? Were you capable of seeing this through?
> You realize it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts, you’ve already committed to this
> Steeling yourself, you slowly push open the door, stepping into the bedroom
> Gilda lay curled on the bed at the far end of the room, raising her head as you enter
> She gave you a deep, warm smile as you walked in, her eyes filled with joy
“Where… where is…” you stammer, trying to find your voice
> Gilda chuckles at your nervousness, lifting her left wing in response
> Underneath, a small ball of brown fluff nestled against her body, barely the size of a football
> All the doubt and worry inside you instantly melted away as you finally gazed upon the child… your child.
> You tentatively stepped over to the bed, your chest swelling with pride and unbridled joy
> “Is… a boy or a…” you stutter, your throat tightening
> “A girl,” Gilda answers, gently preening the chick with her beak, “Healthy and strong.”
> You crouch down at the edge of the bed, inspecting your daughter
> Her coat lacked true feathers, she was covered in a soft, thin down.
> Her wings were tucked tightly to her sides and her eyes were closed shut, blind to the world around her
> “She needs a name.” Gilda said, snapping you out of your inspection
“You’re right.” You agreed, scratching at your new beard
> You hadn’t given much thought on a name yet. To honest, you didn’t know that many Griffon names yet, you had barely been in Gryphonia for a year. 
“What about Ingirun?” you propose
> Gilda chuckles, “Wow dweeb, you even suck at giving out names.”
“Well what did you have in mind?” you ask
> “I was thinking ‘Beata’” Gilda answers, looking down at her daughter
“Beata…” you repeat, testing the name, “Yeah, I like it.”
> You gently reach out to your daughter, running two fingers over her small head
> She flinches away from your touch, emitting a small ‘meep’
“Hey there Beata, I’m your Dad.” You softly coo, gently stroking her head, “My name is Anon.”
> She slowly grows used to your touch, giving her tiny wings a small flap in contentment
“I love you so much little Beata.” You choke out, tears of joy forming in your eyes
“I promise I’ll always protect you.”
 
> You slowly wake up, the morning sunlight streaming through your bedroom window
> You roll away from the light, smiling from the remnants of your dream
> Gilda was still sleeping soundly next to you. You drape one arm over her and bury your face in her soft coat
> Twilight may have tainted your old memories, but you could always make new ones here.
> You began to drift gently back to sleep, before being jolted awake by a small impact on your body
> “Get up Dad! It’s morning!” Beata exclaims, standing atop your shoulders
> You groan and roll over, hiding your face in the pillow
> Beata jumps off from your shoulder, standing beside your head
> “Come on Dad.” She pries, gently pulling on your ear with her beak, “You promised you’d make pancakes this morning.”
> You quickly shoot your arm forward, grabbing Beata and wrapping her in a tight hug against your chest.
> She giggles and squeals in protest, trying to free herself from your embrace
> She eventually gives in, snuggling into your arms
> You lay there for a couple minutes, enjoying the lazy morning and the affection from your daughter
> “Alright Dad, can you let me go now?” Beata asks
“Hmmm. Nope, don’t think so.” You tease, pulling her close 
> “Daaaaaad.” Beata whines
> “Alright, alright.” You relent, releasing her from your grip, “Let me just get dressed and I’ll make you those pancakes.”
> Beata quickly leaps off the bed, excitedly running out the door and gliding down the stairs.
> You rise up out of bed, gathering a set of clothes from the nearby dresser.
> Gilda stirs as you get dressed, rubbing her eyes with her talons
“Good morning.” You say, donning your rabbit skin vest
> “What makes it a ‘good’ morning?” Gilda groans, plopping back down onto the pillow
“I’m making pancakes.” You offer as you slip on your boots
> “Then save me a few.” Gilda sleepily replies, “I’ll be down in an hour, maybe two…”
> You can’t help but smile at Gilda’s typical behavior, she never liked mornings. Unfortunately for her, your chipper morning spirit rubbed off your daughter.
> You head downstairs into the kitchen, Beata sitting expectantly at the table.
> You set a large pan on the wood stove, retrieving the batter from a cupboard
> You had to make the mix yourself from scratch, pancakes weren’t a typical Griffon dish
> You throw a few sausages alongside the bubbling cakes, the aroma of cooking meat filling the small kitchen
> After a few minutes, you set a large stack of steaming, golden flapjacks down on the table, flipping several onto your daughter’s plate
> She eagerly dives into the syrupy pastries as you grab a few for yourself.
> The homemade mix wasn’t as smooth and flawless as the pancakes back on earth, but they were still delicious
> Gilda joins you as you finish making the second batch, piling several of the sausages on her plate.
> After breakfast, you go your separate ways for the day.
> You grab your bow and quiver and head out into the forest to collect game for your market stall
> Beata went out with Gilda. Griffon’s didn’t have a school system, it was up to Gilda to teach your daughter the ways of a griffon.
> You felt bad you were unable to help teach your daughter how to fly, or how to hunt with her talons, but you could still love and protect her.
> It was midafternoon when you returned with your collected kills, a few rabbits and assorted game birds
> You were just finishing cleaning the meat and tossing away the refuge when Gilda and Beata returned
> “Hey anon, anything big today?” Gilda asked, dropping down into the yard
“Nope, just small game.” You answer, washing off your knife in a nearby bucket
> “What’s wrong, losing your touch?” Gilda teases, softly punching your shoulder
> Your grumble in response, preparing the meat to be taken to the market. It was your turn to run the stall today.
> “Hey Dad?” Beata asks, walking toward you, “Can I come with you to the market today?”
“You want to help me with the stall?” you ask, hefting the bad over your shoulder
> “Sure!” she affirms, looking up at you expectantly
“Alright fine, but I can’t promise it’ll be very exciting.”
> “This is boring…” Beata complains, sitting atop your shoulders
“I told you it wouldn’t be very fun.” You remind her, watching the various griffons make their way through the market square.
> Beata slumps her head down atop yours, letting out a bored groan.
> You would probably let her leave if she asked, but she said she would help with the stall and refused to leave. She definitely inherited her mother’s stubborn pride.
> You watched the sun grow close to the horizon, there was only about an hour of sunlight left.
> Some of your catch would probably not be purchased, but that was alright. You could always just eat it yourself.
> “Hey dad, what’s that?” Beata asks, pointing off into the distance
> You shield your eyes from the setting sun, squinting your eyes against the glare
> It looks like a large flock of birds, but that can’t be right, they’re too large
> Giant eagles perhaps? No, they’re too small, and the eagles never travel in groups larger than two.
> Something about this feels familiar, like you’ve seen this before…
> You suddenly remember, that day in the market, the pegasi aerial attack
> No, it couldn’t be… you were done with that. You put this behind you! Why couldn’t they just let you go?
> “Dad? Are you okay?” Beata asks, feeling your body shake beneath her
“Beata,” you answer, your voice firm and commanding, “Run home. Run home and hide until me or mom find you.”
> “Dad?” Beata’s voice quavers as she jumps from your shoulders, she’s never seen you like this before.
“Go! Now!” you shout, pointing towards your house
> She takes off in a flash, flying as fast as her small wings can carry her
> You dash over to the smith’s stall. You left your bow and home, and you’ll need a weapon soon
> You quickly snatch a woodaxe from the counter, gripping the sturdy handle in your hands
> “Hey! You’ve got to pay for that Anon!” the smith shouts, surprised by your sudden actions
“Sorry Ivan,” you reply, hefting the weapon, “That’s going to have to wait”
> You run into the center of the market, jumping atop a large wooden podium used for announcements by the local jarl.
> Several Griffons turn toward you, curious about your strange behavior
“Griffons of Vhalestead!” you shout, pointing at the approaching flock in the distance
“Prepare to defend the village!”
> Every eye turns toward the distance, spotting the approaching pegasi
> With a chorus of screeches and battle cries, the griffons leap into the sky, heading off to intercept the p0nies
> No griffon was a stranger to conflict. Between the natural predators of the mountains and conflicts between jarls, knowing how to fight was a necessity for everyone.
> You leap off the podium, dashing down the streets toward the fray
> The chariots begin to peel off from the main group, unloading p0nies into the streets or beginning to strafe the building with magical bolts.
> You pat the small pouch on your belt, feeling the small black stone still inside. You made a habit of always wearing it even after all these years. You would need it today
> The pegasi and griffons clash in the sky above you, swirling in a massive churning dogfight. The wounded and the dead crashing into the roofs
> You wish you had your bow instead of this bulky axe, you couldn’t help from down here.
> You hear hoofbeats coming from just up the street. You quickly dive out of the street and hide behind a nearby building.
> You hear the p0nies getting closer. Bracing your foot against a windowsill, you pull yourself up onto the thatched roof.
> Three guards come into view below, two earth p0nies armed with spears and a single unicorn
> “Alright boys, get those torches out and lit!” the unicorn orders, “Light up these houses and smoke ‘em out!”
> They’re planning to burn the village? Oh no they don’t, not if you can help it.
> As the two earth ponies fumble with their packs, you ready your weapon and leap from the rooftop
> You swing down the axe as you fall, striking one the earth p0nies in the back, severing his spine
> The unicorn and remaining guard stare in shock as their comrade slumps to the ground
> The unicorn recovers his wits as you pull your axe free, lowering his horn.
> “That’s the human you fool! Get him! Celestia wants his head!” he shouts, firing a bolt of magical energy
> The blast fizzles out harmlessly a few inches from your chest, it seems the stone’s protective properties still work
> You swing the axe in a horizontal cleave, splitting the unicorn’s helm and embedding the edge in his skull
> You struggle to free your weapon, but you’re interrupted as the final guard bucks you in the side
> The impact sends you sprawling into the street, landing on your face
> You push yourself up with your arms. You see the last guard charging at you with his spear, gritting his teeth in determination
> You roll out of the way, the spearhead impaling into the dirt mere moments after you move
> The guard rears back and thrusts the spear at you again as you lay on your back
> You grab the shaft in your hands, stopping the point inches from your face
> You push with all your might against him, but he’s using his weight to bear down on you, the gleaming spearhead slowly creeping closer
> You struggle to force the spear to the side, but that serves only to accelerate its movement toward you. The guard grins in triumph as the inevitable slowly draws near.
> Suddenly, the guard disappears from above you in a grey blur. You quickly rise to your feet as your savior slashes the guard’s neck with his talon
“Espen!” you exclaim, recognizing the dusty griffon, “Thanks for the save, but couldn’t you have gotten here a bit sooner?”
> “I was a little busy.” He replies, finishing off the guard you knocked unconscious, “Besides, this way was more dramatic.”
> You move over to the dead unicorn, bracing your foot against his body and pulling the axe free from his skull
 “How bad is it up there?” you ask, checking the axe for damage
> “Not bad, we scattered most of the individual pegasi, but the chariots got in a lot of runs before we chased them down.” He answers, gesturing to the pillars of smoke in the distance.
> It looks like several of the buildings in town have caught flame. That would need to be put out before it begins to spread
“What’s left to deal with then?”
> “Just the earth p0nies and the unicorns, they’re scattered in small groups all over the place.”
“Let’s go then.”
> The two of you take off, running through the wide streets
> “This is insane…”  Espen comments, passing a group of griffons fighting to put out a burning house, “Why would the p0nies attack now?”
“Have they done this sort of thing before?”
> “Not often, usually only after a stupid jarl thinks it would be a good idea to grab some land south of the mountains.”
> “But that hasn’t happened in years,” he continues, “there’s no reason for them to do this.”
“I think they came for me” you reply, “One of the p0nies recognized me.”
> “Really? I knew you were a fugitive, but all this is really for you?”
> A horrible realization came to mind. If this was because of you, how would the other griffons react?
“You’re not going to turn me over are you?” you ask, worried
> Espen shakes his head, “No way. Griffons don’t abandon their comrades.”
“Thanks, a lot.” You reply, grateful you wouldn’t be run out.
> The buildings were more densely concentrated here, forming alleys between their walls
> You come to a halt as you approach a corner, signaling for Espen to stop behind you
> You hear voices and hoofbeats nearby, slowly coming closer
> You raise the axe, waiting for the opportune moment to strike
> When you hear the p0nies only a few feet away, you round the corner, swinging the axe sideways
> The earth pony guard ducks on reflex, the axe edge embedding in the wood wall to your right. Behind him, a unicorn guard jumps in surprise
> You’re forced to abandon the troublesome weapon as the guard thrusts forward with his spear
> You leap backwards, barely escaping the reach of the deadly point
> Before he can attack again, Espen pounces on the guard, tearing into his neck
> The unicorn retaliates with a blast from his horn, impacting Espen in his side
“Epsen! No!” you shout as his body lands sprawled on the ground
>In a fit of rage, you tear the axe free form the wall, heaving it over your shoulders and hurling it at the unicorn
> It spins around once, before smashing into the unicorn’s shoulder
> He briefly walks forward, stumbling before collapsing into the dirt
> You rush over to Epsen’s side, inspecting his wound. A large patch of his coat was singed off, the skin underneath badly burned.
“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you plead, turning over his body
> “Relax, I’m not dead yet.” Espen wheezes, giving you a weak smile, “It’ll take more than that to put me down.”
“You had me worried there you bastard.” You grin, “Who would I drink with if you kicked the bucket?”
> He chuckles shortly before grimacing in pain, “Ah! Jeez, don’t make me laugh. My skin feels like it’s made of birch bark.”
> You hear the soft flapping of wings above you. Looking up, you see three griffons glide down into the alley.
> “Hail Anon, staying busy I see.” Ivan greets you as the other two tend to Espen.
“Just stretching my arms.” You reply, holding out the axe to the smith, “You want this back? I think you’ll have to sell it as ‘used’ from now on.”
> “You go ahead and keep it.” He answers, pushing it away, “I think you’ve earned it after today.”
“Is there anything left?” you ask, leaning the weapon against your shoulder.
> “Just the fires, we’ve put most of them out, but there’s still a few left.”
“I’ll see if I can help out.” You suggest, leaving the alley as the two griffons hoist Espen onto their backs
> As you enter the main streets again, you’re greeted by a hustle of activity
> Griffons run back and forth, carrying buckets of water, tending to the wounded, or escorting prisoners.
> The horizon is hazy with smoke, dark rising pillars marking the locations of the building still aflame
> One column of smoke catches your eye, just on the edge of town. Judging by the distance and direction, it would be…
> No. Oh god please no…
> You drop the axe and sprint off, running as fast as your legs can carry you
> All rational thought left your mind, replaced by desperate denial
> Please, let me be wrong. Don’t let it be too late. Please, oh please no…
> You skid to a halt as you near your house, your worst fears confirmed before your eyes.
> The building was completely ablaze. The flames towered high into the sky, you could feel the searing heat even at this distance. No one could have survived in there.
> A cold realization washes over you. Your entire body suddenly feels heavy.
“Beata…”
> You fall to your knees as the roof collapses inward, sending a blizzard of embers up into the air
> It feels like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, leaving a cold empty void. You had never felt pain like this before, it was unimaginable.
> You promised Beata you would always look after her, that you would protect her, and you failed.
> She was gone, your little Beata was gone…
> Hot tears ran down your face as you threw your head toward the sky. You unleash a pained cry of anguish and grief, echoing throughout the hills.
> You knelt there in the dirt, doing nothing to halt the tears dropping from your face
> You were broken, utterly and completely.
> You feel completely helpless. If you were asked to save her from a dragon, or travel to the ends of the earth for her, you’d do it in a heartbeat
> But this… you couldn’t fight against this. This was final.
> You buried your face in your hands, your body racked by your sobs.
> What you wouldn’t give just to see her one more time, to tell her how much you loved her, to hear her sweet voice again…
> “Dad?...”
> You raise your head, not believing your ears
> You turn to your right, wiping your vision clear
> Beata stood a few feet to your right, her light brown coat stained with soot. She shifted, your bow and quiver sliding off her back
> You stared, dumbfounded, your brain refusing to accept what you saw
> “It’ll be okay Dad,” Beata said, giving you a weak smile, “We can always get a new house.”
> You snatch her up in your arms, hugging her tight as if she would disappear at any moment.
> The tears started up again, but not of sadness and grief, but of relief and joy.
 
> That night, you gathered in the town square along with all the other griffons
> Gilda stood by your side. You were grateful she wasn’t harmed, other than the occasion nick or scratch.
> Large funeral pyres were constructed in the streets, the bodies of the less fortunate griffons lay upon them
> One by one, the bases were lit by the deceased’s family, the smoke slowly curling into the starry sky
> The only sounds came from the crackling of the flames and the ambience of the night.
> Griffons grieved in silence. There were no speeches, no elaborate ceremonies, and no open displays of grief. Their souls were dedicated to Valhalla in a noble silence.
> You watched the flames slowly rise, consuming the bodies of the Griffons you once knew. They were your neighbors, your friends…
> You were an optimistic fool to think Celestia would just let your go, especially after what you did to her student.
> You were prepared to forget, you were willing to move on, but clearly she wasn’t
> Your hatred of Celestia had shrank into a smoldering ember after all these years, but as the flames of cremation rose, that ember grew into a raging inferno
> Your fists clench at your sides as realize this would never be over, not as long as one of you still lived
> You know what you have to do
> You turn around and walk away, leaving the funeral behind you
“Anon?” Gilda asks, seeing you leave, “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to kill Celestia.”
 
> You open the door and step inside the small smithy, looking around the dim room.
> You’re going to need weapons, lots of weapons.
> Various tools and equipment hung from the walls. A large section of the roof in one corner had collapsed during today’s fighting.
> As you searched for something suitable, you hear Gilda open the door behind you.
> “You know, you’ve had a lot of dumb ideas,” she said, “but this is by far the stupidest.”
“I have to put an end to this.” You reply, “She’s not going to stop unless I do.”
> “So? If they come again, we’ll kick their ass just like we did today.”
> You pick up a pair of hatchets that had fallen to the floor. You test their weight in your hands, making a few experimental swings. These will do.
“What about the others though?” you ask, slipping the axes onto your belt, “This isn’t their fight, can you honestly drag them into this?”
> Gilda opens her mouth to answer, but stops. Looking down, she answers slowly, “No. I can’t.”
> “But that doesn’t mean you need to do this.” She continues, “We can move. Find another village farther from the border…”
“And how long until they find us again?” you turn around, facing her, “How long until another day like today? And then what, we find another new home? We just keep running all our lives?”
> “But you’re plan is suicidal!” Gilda shouts, growing frustrated, “She’s surrounded by guards! She’s practically a god! What happens if you die?”
“Then they’ll have no reason to come back.”
> Gilda slaps you across the face, her talon cutting three bleeding lines across your cheek.
> “How could you possibly think like that?!?”
> She glares at you, seething with fury.
“Gilda,” you reply, your voice calm, “I thought I lost Beata today.”
> Gilda seems to calm down a bit. She waits for you to continue.
“It was horrible. It was…” you shudder, even the memory of the pain sent a spike through your heart, “Never again. I can’t let that happen ever again.”
“She deserves better. She deserves to live free from all this. I want to give her that life, even if I’m not going to be around to be a part of it.”
> You turn around, selecting a pair of knives and resuming your search through the rubble.
> After a few moments, Gilda moves next to you, beginning to shift through the debris
“What are you doing?” you ask
> “Helping.” She replies
 
> The first rays of the morning sun peek over the horizon as you load the last of the supplies onto one of the abandoned chariots
> You modified the harness to accommodate Gilda’s size. She agreed to fly you to Canterlot instead of walking.
> You also packed plenty of provisions so you wouldn’t have to hunt on your journey, so sense in taking longer than you have too.
> As you finish securing the supplies, you see Beata slowly walking up to you
> Gilda had arranged for her to stay with some friends for a while. She would be well cared for while you were gone.
> You step off the chariot, a sad smile on your face
 “Hey there Beata, you doing okay?” you greet, crouching down
> “Where are you going dad?” she asks
> You smile a little more. Straight to the point, just like her mom.
“I’m going to Equestria. I have to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” You answer, trying to obscure the details.
> “You’re going to fight Celestia aren’t you.” She says, looking down at the ground.
> You should have known you could hide this from her, you raised her better than that.
> “But you’re going to win, right?” She looks up, her eyes full of hope, “You’re going to beat her and come back.”
> You pause, trying to formulate your response in your head.
> The hope in her eyes slowly turns to despair as you struggle to reply.
> “You’re going to come back, right Dad?” she repeats, her voice quavering.
 “Beata…” you answer, pulling her into a tight hug, “I’ve never lied to you, I’m not going to start now.”
> That was it, she broke down. She starts crying into your shoulder, tears soaking through to your skin.
> You pet the back of her head, holding her close and offering what little comfort you could.
“Beata.” You say, holding her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes, “Before I go, I have to tell you something. This is important, you need to listen.”
> She nods her head, wiping her eyes clear with her talon.
“Always remember Beata, you are free. No one controls your destiny but you. Never let anyone take that away from you. Protect it. Fight for it. It is the most precious thing you have.”
> You lean forward and kiss her forehead, ruffling her coat with her hand like you always did.
“I love you Beata, and I’m so very proud of you. I know you’ll do alright.”
> You let her go. Standing up, you board the chariot.
> You look back, your eyes watering.
“Goodbye”
 
> You lean over the side of the chariot, watching the scenery pass by beneath you
> You remember the long journey you took years ago across Equestria. It was a novelty to see the same land you spent months trekking over literally fly by beneath you in a matter of weeks
> You definitely weren’t comfortable at first with being hundreds of feet above the ground in an open chariot, but you slowly got used to it.
> The chariot seemed to have some small magical properties. Even if Gilda hovered, it remained perfectly level behind her.
> Furthermore, there seemed to be a faint field holding you inside. Whenever you neared the edge or leaned over, you felt a small tug holding you back.
> It wasn’t very strong, you could probably break through if you wanted to, but at least you wouldn’t fall out accidentally.
> You made good progress as the days went by. Without having to stop and hunt for food, you were able to travel much longer per day.
> Slowly but surely, your destination begins to peek over the horizon. A single lonely mountain, a castle perched on it’s side.
> Your hands tighten over the railing, the wind blowing through your hair. You never thought you would ever go back there willingly.
> But that was then. You were going to make sure Celestia paid for what she did. For Beata, for Gilda, for Rainbow Dash and all the fallen.
> One way or another, this was the end.
 
> You worm your way through the scraggly brush, working your way to the cliff edge
> Far below you lies the city of Canterlot, looked over by Celestia’s castle
> You and Gilda had been camping on the mountain peak above the castle for a few days now, quietly observing the routines and patrols of the pegasi guards.
> There were hundreds of them. They swarmed around the castle like bees around a hive.
> But they were sloppy. The guards routinely arrived late at their posts, or wandered off at the slightest distraction.
> With so many guards, it’s no wonder they grew complacent. They were in the center of the p0ny nation, far away from the slightest threat.
> You and Gilda had found an opening you could exploit. As the guards changed shifts around noon, there was just enough time for a single fly-by.
> It was the only opportunity each day, there was no way to squeeze in a pickup later. You doubt you would need one anyway…
> You scan for any unusual movement, any discrepancies in their usual patrols. You needed to be sure you were still unnoticed, tomorrow was the day you made your move.
> Satisfied you’re plan would still work, you slide away from the cliff face, heading back towards camp.
 
> You sit by the small campfire, eating a small roasted rabbit.
> It wasn’t flavorful by any means, and was actually rather dry, but after weeks of dried meat it seemed positively succulent.
> Gild sat across from you, tearing into her own meal
> You smile to yourself. It was the moments like this, of quiet companionship, that reminded you how you fell in love with Gilda
> “What’re you grinning about?” Gilda asks, finishing her rabbit looking up.
“I was just thinking,” you answer, “This is just like old times isn’t it?”
> “I guess it is,” she agrees, tossing away the bone, “Your cooking is just as bad as before too.”
“A dish is only as good as it’s ingredients.” You retort, “You always seem keen of snatching the stringy and tasteless hares.”
> “That’s not a ‘dish’, dweeb.” Gilda snaps back, “You just turned them over a fire.”
> You wave your hand dismissively, returning your attention to your meal.
> A silence formed between you, slowly growing more tense and awkward.
> Gilda stares into the crackling flames. You could tell she was preparing to say something, and you knew better than to try and force it out of her.
> You busy yourself by working with your arrows, ensuring each one was in prime condition.
> You pay particular attention to one arrow in particular. For your plan to work, you needed this arrow to be flawless.
> After several minutes, Gilda breaks the silence
> “I’m going with you.” She announces.
“No.” you immediately reply, your voice stern.
> “But we’re a team Anon.” she pleads, looking up at you, “We always stuck together, through everything, I can’t just leave you to do this alone!”
“Gilda,” you say, moving next to her, “You can’t come with me, you have to go on.”
> “But I can’t lose you! I already lost Rainbow Dash, I don’t want to lose you too…”
 “Gilda…” You drape an arm over her shoulder, looking into her eyes, “You have to head back. Beata needs to have a mother.”
> “But… maybe I can pick up you up later.” She desperately reasons, “I can get you out after you…”
You shake your head, “You know that’s not possible.”
> Slowly, she begins to accept the situation. She throws her arms around your shoulders, clamping her beak around your mouth.
> You return her embrace, feeling her warm tears spill onto your face. You both sit there, holding each other for what you knew would be the last time.
> As the sun sank below the horizon, you broke the embrace, gently pushing Gilda away.
“Alright, I think I should get some sleep. I’ll need it fo-“
> Gilda roughly pushes you onto your back, positioning herself above you.
> “No, not tonight.” She seductively grins down at you, “You don’t get to sleep tonight.”
 
> You step onto the chariot as the sun rises high into the sky, giving you weapons one last check over.
> Your bow was slung over you back, two hatchets hung from your belt.  Two large knives were slid into slots on the front of your vest.
> Satisfied with your preparations, you signal Gilda. With a might flap of her wings, she leaps over the edge of the cliff, pulling the chariot behind her.
> Your stomach churns as she dives downward. The wind whips past you as she builds more and more speed
> You castle looms closer with every passing moment. Gilda heads straight for the throne room, an immensely large room at the top of the castle.
> Even over the howling wind, you can hear the surprised shouts of the guards and p0nies below you. Still, by the time they organized a chase, Gilda would be long gone.
> As you near your destination, you grab a long rope secured the front of the chariot, wrapping it around your hands.
> “Anon!” Gilda shouts above the wind, turning her head back toward you
> You meet her gaze, her eyes full of determination.
> “Kick her ass.”
> You smile, stepping backwards off the chariot
> You’re struck by the awkward feeling of weightlessness as you fall over the edge.
> The rope catches on the edge of the chariot, suddenly becoming taught
> Your free-fall turns into a massive swing, propelling you sideways towards a massive stained-glass window.
> You smash into the glass feet first, releasing the rope from your hands
> The ornate window shatters with a resounding crash as you fly into the throne room.
> You land rolling on the smooth stone floor, multicolored shards of glass raining around you.
> Well-dressed p0nies scream and run at your sudden entrance. It reminded you of the first time you arrived here unexpected. But this time, you weren’t going to run.
> As your rise to your feet, pulling your hatchets free from your belt. Numerous guards quickly surround you, leveling spears and charging spells in the horns
> You ignore them, your business was with the mare sitting on the throne before you.
> “Anon,” Celestia said, her voice showing neither surprise nor compassion, “You survived.”
“Celestia!” you shout, pointing one of your hatchets at her, “I’ve come to end this once and for all!”
> Celestia rises from her throne, looking down at you like you were some sort of offending insect.
> “Leave us.” She commands the guards surrounding you.
> “Your highness?” asks one of the guards, looking back at his sovereign, confused.
> “I will deal with him personally.” She continues, her spiteful gaze never leaving yours.
> Reluctantly, the guards pull away their spears, slowly exiting through the large wooden doors behind you.
> The doors close as the last guard departs, leaving you and Celestia in solitude.
> “I must say, you confuse me Anon.” Celestia begins, slowly descending the steps in front of her throne.
> “You were always so desperate to escape from me. You hid in the wilderness, you fled across my country, and you fought my guards.”
> “And now, after all these years, you come walking right back.” She continues, “Why did you fight then? Why struggle to escape your death only to come right back?”
“The difference, your highness,” You answer, spitting out the title with contempt, “is choice.”
“I’ve chosen to come here, I’ve chosen this fate. This isn’t something that you or anyone else has forced upon me. This path is mine, and I’m prepared to see it through to it’s end.”
> “So, you have come here prepared to die?” Celestia asks
“Yes,” you reply, hefting your hatchets, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to drag you down with me.”
> “Oh please,” Celestia laughs, “I’ve lived for thousands of years, there have been countless attempts on my life. What makes you think yours will be any different?”
“Because,” you answer, “I’m your greatest weakness Celestia.”
“I have destroyed countless kingdoms and dethroned kings.”
“I have brought empires to their knees and toppled regimes.”
“I am the ultimate bane of oppressors and slayer of sovereigns.”
> “Do not toy with me Anon.” Celestia sneers, her horn glowing, “You are no god.”
“No, I’m not a god.” You reply, readying your stance, “I’m a free man.”
“Let’s end this.”
> You both stand there, unmoving. You stare at one another, searching for the slightest weakness, waiting for the other to begin.
> Neither of you spoke, the only sounds came from the wind through the shattered window.
> You studied the room around you. Two sets of supportive pillars ran parallel to the walls on your left and right.
> Large Tapestries and flags hung between the intricate stain-glass window, each portraying a pivotal moment of Equestrian history.
> You return your attention to Celestia, making a small adjustment to your footing.
> Celestia moves first. With a barely imperceptible flick of her horn, a stone block is ripped from the floor, hurtling at you with blinding speed
> You swing forward with your right hand, intercepting the masonry with your hatchet. The stone bursts apart in a cloud of dust and debris, the impact shattering the axe head.
> You drop the useless handle and step forward, hurling your second axe over your shoulder and sending it spinning at Celestia.
> She throws up a shield without flinching, the weapon shattering against the magical barrier.
> You rush forward, sliding your knives free from your vest. You learned a lot from your fight against Twilight. Magic required concentration, you couldn’t give her time to focus
> You can see the field weaken as you get close, the stone’s nullifying properties clearly at work.
> With a quick thrust from your dagger, the shield shatters, allowing you to get within striking distance of Celestia
> She lowers her head, deflecting your attack with a quick movement of her horn.
> She stabs forward with the sharpened point, forcing you to awkwardly twist and dodge away.
> This is something you didn’t expect. Her horn was far larger than any other unicorn’s, making it a clearly deadly weapon.
> The two of you duel back and forth, exchanging blows and vying for position.
> You weren’t experienced in this sort of melee combat, if it wasn’t for the inherent awkwardness of Celestia’s weapon, you would have been eviscerated in seconds.
> “You will suffer for what you did to my student!” Celestia threatens, parrying your attacks and thrusting forward with her horn.
“You’ll pay for threatening my daughter!” you shout back, dodging her thrust and slashing forward.
> She rears back, escaping out of the reach of your weapon. She slams back down into the floor, a magical shockwave erupting from her hooves.
> The blast shatters the ornate windows around you and sends cracks running through the floor stone floors
> You’re sent flying across the room by the force, your daggers knocked free from your grasp.
> You land on your hands and knees, sliding across the smooth stone surface.
 > Celestia slowly advances toward you, more bits of masonry tearing free from the floor and orbiting around her.
> The magnitude of your situation finally sinks in. Twilight had to visibly focus and strain to lift even a single large object, Celestia did it without even seeming to notice.
> “So, you have a daughter, how quaint.” She said, a twisted smile on her face, “Perhaps I’ll pay her a visit after I’m done with you. After all, you cut off my pupil’s horn, clipping her wings seems a fair don’t you think?”
> You glare at her, sliding your bow off of your shoulders
“I’ll die before I let you touch her.”
> Celestia scowls at you, the glow of her horn intensifying.
> “Terms accepted!”
> With a flick of her horn, she launches the masonry at you with enough force to shatter bones.
> You roll out of the way, seeking the cover behind the marble support pillars
> As Celestia gathers more ammunition, you quickly nock an arrow and fire at her neck
> Celestia simply looks at the arrow, reducing it to dust inches before impact.
> She resumes her bombardment as you duck behind the pillar. The stone above you shatters under her attack, sending debris over your head.
> You sprint to the next pillar as Celestia prepare her next attack, snatching another arrow from your quiver.
> You fire the arrow, diving behind the pillar as Celestia throws the massive projectiles at you. She effortless deflects the attack as your cover is reduced to rubble.
> You continue your sprint, firing as you race from pillar to pillar, each one reduced to rubble under Celestia’s onslaught.
> Finally, you run out of cover. You stand in the center of the room, panting for breath as Celestia grins triumphantly at you.
> “It seems you’ve run out of places to hide.” She sneers, “I think it’s time we ended this little game.”
“You know,” you reply, matching her grin, “You and Twilight really need to watch where you’re throwing stuff.”
> She raises an en eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. You point up at the ceiling, multiple large cracks expanding outward.
> She looks up, mouth agape, as the entire roof suddenly comes crashing down in a deafening avalanche of stone and masonry.
 
> You push with all your might, sliding the heavy stone off of your chest.
> You pull yourself free from the rubble, your entire body aching in protest.
> Flashes of pain pounded inside your skull as you surveyed the damage around you.
> The entire roof had fallen inward, leaving only the walls still standing. The blue sky was open above you, a cool breeze blowing around you.
> You retrieve your bow from where it fell, looking around for any sign of Celestia, but there appeared to be none.
> Could it be over? Did the collapse finish her off?
> You hear a section of the rubble begin to shift as something large moves underneath it.
> No, of course not. That would’ve been too easy.
> Celestia bursts free from the debris, sending wooden beam and chunks of stone flying/
> Her tiara was missing from her head, her jewelry hung from an awkward angle. Her pristine white coat was stained with dust and dirt.
> She glares at you, eyes burning with hatred and rage. Her bane billowed chaotically behind her like the flames of a wild inferno.
> “Enough!” she bellows, rising slowly into the air, “I will not be undone by some hairless ape!”
> Incandescent magical energies swirl her, slowly building heat and power
> It’s like a hurricane is forming within the throne room. The air whips around you, the damaged walls collapsing outward.
> The heat intensifies, the air around Celestia bursting into flame. Dark clouds form in the sky above you, churning violently and spewing lightening.
> You stood awestruck. This wasn’t the anger of an insulted ruler, or the rage of some powerful unicorn, this was the unchained fury of vengeful goddess.
> The fire spins around her body, forming a towering cyclone rising high into the sky.
> “I have lived for thousands of years! I have ruled since time immemorial!” Celestia shouts as she rises through the vortex of fire and fury, “I am immortal! I am a god among mortals!”
> The heat was unbearable, it was like the sun itself was surrounding her. Even with the stone’s protection, you could feel your skin blister and burn.
> “This world exists upon my whim!” Celestia voice booms forth, resonating around you, “You live only to serve my wishes, and you will die because I command it!”
“I am no one’s subject!” you shout over the howling wind and thunder, reaching over your shoulder for an arrow, your last arrow.
> You nock the arrow, gritting your teeth against the driving wind.
“I will not bow to you, or fate, or anyone else!”
> Your draw back, the muscles in your back straining against the bow.
> Your form was perfect, your hands moving without thought, only focus. All the practice and experience of your life come down to this one crucial shot.
> You steady your aim. The glossy, black stone arrowhead trained on Celestia’s chest
“I. AM. FREE!”
> You release the arrow, sending the sharpened black stone streaking at Celestia.
> It passes through the fiery vortex, punching a hole through the flames.
> The arrow strikes Celestia in the center of her chest. The fire dissipates immediately, Celestia’s falling down from the air.
> Celestia stumbles awkwardly to her feet, staring dumbfounded at the arrow shaft protruding from her coat.
> “What… what did you do?” she asks, growing hysterical, “What did you do!?!”
> You scream in defiance and rush forward, dropping your bow and tackling into Celestia
> She stumbles backward, unable to steady herself on the uneven debris. Your momentum carries the two of you forward, tumbling over the broken walls.
> You spin and turn as you plummet through the air. Celestia tries to shake you off her back as you pound your fist into her side.
> You smash into a roof with a tooth jarring impact, sliding down the slope with a small avalanche of broken shingles before resuming your free-fall.
> Celestia flaps her wings desperately, trying to slow down your rapid descent. You wrap your arm around her wing and begin to twist
“This is for Rainbow Dash you bitch!”
> With a sickening snap, the wing breaks free from her socket. Your grip is torn away as Celestia  tightly spirals to the earth.
> The ground and sky spin wildly in your vision as you twirl and flip through the air.
> You smash into the unrelenting earth, the breath knocked out of your lungs before you immediately lose consciousness.
> Your eyes flutter open as you lay face down in the dirt and grass
> Everything about you hurt, it felt like your entire skeleton had been shattered. Your mind feels fuzzy, you found it hard to focus or think properly
> The darkness slowly crept back into the corners of your vision. It would so nice to just sleep, just let it all fade away… you were so tired too…
> No! You force your eyes open, groaning as you push yourself with on your arms. You’re not done, not yet!
> You slowly rise to your feet, you entire body stiff and screaming in protest. You hold a hand to your head, trying to ease your pounding head.
> You examine your surroundings, your vision blurry and swimming. It looks like you were in some sort of large garden.
> Large, impressively lifelike statues surrounded you. Large flowerbeds were scattered around the neatly trimmed trees and hedges.
> You wince in pain as you breathe, each breath sending a sharp blade of pain through your chest.
> Running you hand gingerly over your chest, you feel your ribs broken and misaligned inside you.
> You turn around, searching for where Celestia landed. You spot her behind you, rising awkwardly on her legs.
> Her right wing hung broken and limp at her side. Her white coat was soaked in blood around the broken arrow shaft embedded in her chest.
> She spits out mouthful of blood, glaring at you.
> You stumble toward each other, both limping heavily. You raise your arm in a weak guard as you near Celestia
> As you enter striking distance, you wind up and strike your fist across her face. It was a pathetic punch, your entire body working against you
> Even so, Celestia staggers under the blow before returning with a flail of her front hooves.
> You took the hit into your shoulder. You couldn’t dodge, you didn’t have enough strength left. At least the attack was weak, clearly she was injured as well.
> You repeatedly pound your fists into her face, your movements weak and slow as Celestia does nothing to evade or protect yourself
> Celestia returns to the offense as you tire out, pounding into you with her hooves
> The two of you were beyond strategy or tactics. You weakly brawled into each other like drunks, simply enduring each attack.
> As you swing another right hook, Celestia backs up out of your reach.
> You stumble forward, off balance as Celestia spins around on her front hooves.
> She bucks you in the chest, sending your body crashing against the castle wall behind you.
> You stagger, trying to move as you see Celestia charging toward you, her head lowered.
> She collides into you, her horn impaling your abdomen and pinning you to the wall behind you.
> You heave, expelling a mixture of blood and vomit into the earth
> Celestia grins triumphantly, driving her horn deeper into you
> “Enjoy Tartarus.” She sneers
> With one last burst off strength, you wrap your arms around her neck and chin, twisting her head to the side.
> “What… what are you doing?” Celestia demands, struggling against you.
“I told you,” you reply, blood dripping from your mouth, “I’m taking you down with me.”
> She fights against your grip, but you hold her tight, slowly twisting her neck further and further.
> She bites down on your fingers. You feel your bones begin to crack and grind between her teeth.
> You finally come to the breaking point, the final resistance of her vertebrae. With a cry of pain, anguish, and rage, you give Celestia’s neck one final pull.
> With a loud crack, her neck snaps. Her body goes limp, her horn sliding free from your body as she slumps down into the grass.
> You cup your hand over your wound, blood seeping around your fingers. You look down at Celestia, her eyes wide with shock and her neck hanging at an unnatural angle.
> It was over
> You did it
> You won
> You limp away from the body. You weren’t sure where you were going and honestly, you didn’t care. You simply walked on, leaving the scene of battle behind you.
> You walked slowly through the gardens, looking around you.
> The trees rose high above you, casting a cool shade over your path. The air was thick with the smell of wildflowers and freshly cut grass.
> Small birds fluttered and sang in the branches above you, their songs blending together into a harmonious melody.
> You always liked that about birds. Even on the darkest days, even after the fiercest storms, they always kept singing, always bringing some small amount of simple pleasure into the world.
> You had to admit, this world was beautiful. It had taken you song long to realize that when you first arrived here.
> Back then, you had been so focused on what you had lost in your old world. You never thought about what this new life could bring you.
> You suddenly gag, spewing another volume of thick blood into the dirt at your feet.
> That was it, you couldn’t go any further.
> You spot a statue not far from you and slowly work your way over. Your entire body felt heavy and sluggish, the pain of your wounds oddly absent.
> The statue looks like Celestia, but not quite. The frame was smaller and thinner, perhaps it depicted her in her younger years?
> You sit down at the base of the statue, propping your back against the stone surface
> Your thoughts drift over your life here since arriving in Equestria
> Your capture by Celestia, your imprisonment by Twilight, regaining your freedom thanks to Rainbow Dash…
> Rainbow Dash. If you had any regrets, that was it. She didn’t deserve her fate. You wished you could’ve done something, anything to help her.
> But you suppose she chose her own path, much like you chose yours. She knew the consequences of her actions, and was willing to risk that for you. No wonder she an Gilda were friends
> Gilda…damn you love that griffon. You love everything about her, her attitude, her pride, and her competitive nature. She was just so very much alive, so full of energy.
> Meeting her was probably the best thing that ever happened to you. She led you to a new life you shared with her, and with your daughter Beata.
> Beata… she was so precious to you. You loved her dearly as her father, and you were so proud of her. She was strong, independent, and spirited.
> You still cherished the years you spent together, watching her grow from the tiny chick she once was. 
> You wish you could’ve seen what she would grow to become, but at least she would be able to do so in peace, you made sure of that.
> You wish you could’ve been around longer, but you enjoyed the time you had here
> You eyelids grow heavy, your arm sliding down to your side.
> You had a good life. You fell in love and got to be a father, what more could you want?
> Yeah, you could live with that.
> You sigh and close your eyes, letting the birds sing you softly to sleep.
 
> It was dark… so very dark...
> There was no noise, no smell, no touch. It was empty, so completely and totally empty
> But it was peaceful, serene.
> You float through the void, your mind blank and empty
> You simply drift along, resting.
> “…Anon…”
> What was that? A voice? It was so far off… so distant…
> You ignore it, returning to your slumber
> The darkness was comforting, it wrapped and enveloped around you you like a thick blanket.
> “…Anon…” the voice returns, louder and closer.
> You groan. Why could you just be left alone? You were so tired, you just wanted to sleep…
> “Anon!” The voice yelled in your ear, forcibly tearing you from your rest
> It sounded familiar, you could almost remember it... You fought through the fog, trying to reach your memories.
> The darkness slowly began to lift, light retuning to your world.
> That voice… who was it? You almost had it…
> “Anon, if you don’t wake up right now I’ll kick your ass!”
> Gilda?
 
> Your eyes slowly open, pupils burning from the bright sunlight
> Gilda’s head was in front of yours, a wide grin on her face
> “About time dweeb, you have a good nap?”
“Gilda?” you ask, confused
> You sit up, surveying you surroundings. You were in a wide grassy plain, the blue sky open above you. In the distance, you could see the city of Canterlot perched on the mountain.
> You run our hand over your stomach, checking your wound. The gaping hole Celestia tore was gone, replaced by smooth new skin.
“What the heck happened?”
> “You nearly died is what happened.” Gilda answers, poking you in the chest, “Luckily I was able to pull you out of there.”
 “But how?” you ask, incredulous, “What about the guards, or my wounds?”
> “Well…” Gilda responds, looking behind you, “I may have had a little help.”
> You slowly turn around, not expecting what you see.
> A tall blue alicorn stood before you, her starry mane billowing in the breeze.
> “Hello Anon.” she greets you, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
> SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT
> You scramble away from the mare, desperately searching for a weapon
> “Calm yourself Anon.” the alicorn tries to reassure you, “My name is Luna, I am Celestia’ sister.”
> If that was supposed to help calm you down, it certainly didn’t work
> “Cool it dweeb.” Gilda places a claw on your shoulder, “She’s alright.”
“How can you be sure?” you ask, glaring at the mare.
> “Because she helped me get you out of there,” Gilda explains, “And she patched up that hole in your gut.”
> Luna nods in confirmation as you slowly begin to relax. You still were suspicious of her intentions however.
“Why though? Why would you suddenly help me? I did just kill you sister after all.”
> Luna looks down at the ground, a slight frown on her face.
> “Because I know what it’s like to best the monster, to be condemned.” She explains, “Do you remember the statue you fell against in the garden?”
“I sat against it as I recall.” You reply, folding your arms
> “Believe me, it wasn’t anything nearly as refined.” Luna smiles
> “Regardless, you’re lucky you chose that spot.” She continues, “That statue has been my prison for a thousand years, ever since my ill-fated coup long ago.”
> “After my sister…passed, the spell was broken, and I was freed.” She continues, “I had just finished healing you when Gilda returned.”
> You turn back toward Gilda
“I told you not to come back for me.” You scold.
> “Come on Anon,” Gilda shrugs, “When have I ever listened to anything you said?”
> Ok, yeah, she got you there. But there was still one question lingering on my mind.
 “How do you know who I was?” you ask Luna
> “Even imprisoned, I still retained my awareness as well as some of my power.” She answers, “I saw you when you first arrived here, and watched you for some time afterwards.”
> Okay, that was a bit unnerving, as well as creepy. Just how closely was she watching you?
> “In fact,” she continues, “I sent you a little gift while you were in the Everfree.”
> A gift? You never received any gifts. The only things you ever found were a bottle of wine on a dead p0ny and that meteo-
“Wait, you mean the ‘Goddess Bane’? You sent that to me? Why?”
> Luna nods, “I did. I wanted to ensure you could escape Equestria, you needed the protection. I certainly didn’t expect you to turn into a weapon.”
> You turn to the west, watching the sun set below the horizon. Gilda walks to your side, gently leaning into you.
“I didn’t expect a lot of things.”
> “What will you do now?” Luna asks
> You turn to your right, the three northern stars just barely becoming visible.
“Me? I’m going home.”