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[Dsarker]

"T-t-t-t-t-t-thank you, thank you, ever so much...I don't deserve such a kind, loving pony as you...."

[KingStrongbeard]

Charity interjects as she retakes her seat. "Friesden, no magic, not even Khenal's can bring back the dead. But know that they died so that every other pony in Glitterglen might live. They were heroes the both of them. They were good ponies, Luna will see that, they are in a better place now, you can trust in that."

Adamant sits with Kris and gently reaches around her, holding her. He didn't really know what to say, to anypony here, and remained quiet.

[Telgin]

Kris relaxes a bit as Adamant holds her, and she leans into him slightly.  Friesden and Khenal's words rest heavily in her mind.  Could somepony bring somepony back from the dead?  She'd never heard of such a thing... but if it was possible... she'd give everything she owned to see her mother or grandparents again.  Even for a moment.  For a chance to say sorry and goodbye.

A faint sigh passes her lips as she finishes her drink.  Such a thing was madness.  She'd best stop dwelling on it now before it wormed its way into her mind.  At least Charity was right.  They'd all died fighting for the lives of everypony in Glitterglen.  Luna would have given them their due reward.

[KingStrongbeard]

The ponies relax in each other's company, tears are shed by most present. Stories of old times with Starkey, both good and bad, are told. At some point late into the night. The group divides up to go home. Charity returns to her home, seeing her youngest foals already asleep before falling into Cryptson's embrace. Friesden and Khenal return to their home alone. But Adamant and Kris they do not want to separate, so they go together to Kris's home, to talk privately and so neither would have to be alone tonight.

(End Scene.)

[Telgin]

Kris lies in her bed, troubled and unsleeping.  More precisely, she lies on her bed, above the covers where she and Adamant had come to rest while they talked the night away.  Her eyes slowly drift up to him, lying next to her and fast asleep.  She lets out a small sigh as she watches him sleep away, his chest gently rising and falling with each breath.  He was such a nice pony... a good friend.  She wished she'd met him years before she had.

The two had spoken for hours and hours about nothing in particular.  Just things to get her mind off of what had happened, before inevitably drifing back in that direction before one of them managed to think of something to snap their attention away.  She was still stunned about it all, but every time she started to break down... when the implications really set in and forced their way through the haze... he was right there to comfort and support her.  What had she done to deserve a friend like that?

As she lies there, the events of the day play back through her head.  For the thousandth time.  She watches in slow motion as she hesitates to charge.  As she hesitates to fight.  Then as her grandfather is slain before her eyes, and how she failed to help him.  She'd helped one pony since she joined the militia.  One.  And he was in the hospital again right now with serious injuries from a battle she'd been in but failed to help with.

The horrible whip cracks repeat in her mind.  Those wretched, unnatural weapons that tore through armor and flesh as if they were but paper.  How had the diomedians found such magic?  Would they employ it again against them?

Of course they would.  Then she would die too.

They... they'd taken Captain Starkey... Grandpa Starkey from her.  He was invincible.  He went up against much worse odds and came back unscathed.  Nopony could be better than him.  She'd seen him fight and train, been there when he trained her.  Nopony could be better than him.  And yet it didn't matter.  Those horrible... sisters-damned whips...

If he couldn't stand up against a weapon like that, nopony could.  Especially not her.  Weak, cowardly little Kris?  She would die the next time the diomedians came.  She would go out with the rest of the militia, and she would die.  She would die just like he did.  Just like Grandma Otik did.  Just like her mom did.  She'd die too.  Except she wouldn't do it heroically.  She'd be killed running away from the enemy.  Running after everypony else died around her and she failed to save even one of them.  If she was lucky they'd kill her quickly.  A phantom pain wracks her leg where the whip had gripped it during the fight... just before it had been shattered by the pony's mere wrenching of his whip.  She was going to die... and it wouldn't come quickly... a whip was an instrument of torture...

She was scared.  No, she was absolutely terrified.  She didn't want to die.  She was done... done playing soldier.  She didn't want to do it anymore.  It wasn't fun anymore.  Grandpa Starkey was dead.  Grandma Otik was dead.  Her mother was dead.  The three strongest ponies she knew.  Dead.  She was going to die too.  She could never match any of them, and their skill and strength hadn't saved them.  What chance did she have?

Her eyelids clench shut as she stifles a small cry.  Why?  Why had this happened?  Why did good ponies have to die?  For a moment she considers cursing Luna's name at the injustice of it all, but she checks the thought.  She'd once heard her mother say that there was no justice in this world.  That was not long after they arrived at Glitterglen.  Only now was she seeing it though.  Her mother was right.  There was no justice in this world.  There never had been, and there never would be.  She was going to be cut down just like the others, and there didn't have to be a reason.  It would just happen, like an apple falling from a tree.

The crying grows to a just audible level before she manages to contain it.  She didn't want to wake Adamant up.  That was why they both laid awkwardly on top of the covers, where he'd fallen asleep and where she'd laid motionlessly and silently ever since.  She didn't want to disturb him.  He was such a good pony... a good friend... a good listener... he didn't deserve to be dragged down with her right now.  He'd heard it all just hours ago anyway.  He'd listened as she wept and complained about the wrongness of it, comforted her when she told him how scared she was... he'd said all the right things.  He was doing all he could.  It wasn't fair to him to drag him down anyway.

Her frown slowly changes to the slightest hint of a sad smile.  She loved this pony.  This stallion.  There couldn't be anypony else for her.  Who else would listen to her gripe and cry like this?  And do so much to help her get through it?

She blinks weakly and wipes her tears on her pillow to refocus her eyes on his sleeping form.  Everypony she loved dies...  "Don't ever leave me... please Addy..." she whispers.

[DVNO]

'Friesden, no magic, not even Khenal's can bring back the dead.'

Couth snorted at Charity's confidence in that statement. It's not impossible, just extremely hard. Couth's been trying for five years. five long, excruciating years. he couldn't count the number of times he's failed just a hair's breath. but now the schemes are all coming together, nothing was going to stop him this time. well, except for one tiny, little thing. it's negligible, it won't be a problem.

Couth floats inches away from Charity's face. "Nothing's going to save you from my little warpath this time, Charity. not Celestia, Not Luna, Not Discord, not some freak hand of fate, and most certainly not your band of friends, half of witch are my friends now. speaking of.."

Couth looks at Friesden and Khenal in their loving caress. Now there was an idea, why do all the work when Khenal could do it for him? of course Khenal dipping into necromancy and learning from scratch would be slower than his more direct, brute force approach. maybe convincing Friesden to kill herself would speed things up? Not like it would be hard, given her state and her already lucid nature. a possibility. put it on the back-burner. always room for a plan B. anyway, sister.

Couth drifts down to the dungeons. Willow was in the middle of chaining her captive to a wall via cuffs.

"ya think ya scare me? you ain't nothin'. you canna dew noth'in ta me. " the Diomidian growled.

Willow cocked an eyebrow "How do ya figure?"


"Now' imma' polititical prisona' anna I demand ta' be treated as such! you canna hurt me too bad if ya plan on trad'in or sellin me." he shouted, demanding a little respect.


"Ha, after what you've done? do you even Know who your warband even killed? No, this fort's yer last stop, I can almost guarantee that. you hava lotta questions ta answer." she told him in a assured tone.

"I Should thank you, really. you've given just the opportunity to show the Duchess mah... Unique talents I learned from tha mob."

The Diomidian gulped. " An' what talent's are those?"

Willow grins and pushes a cart with all sorts of nasty, sharp objects in into his view.

"Information gatheri'n an'a Personal security! a' least tha' wat I put on the resume."

'oh no, she's acclimating here!' Couth gasped. 'This is not good, how long can she go before she mutters her last name to somepony!?' he need to intervene. couth grabbed an adamantine hook off the table and carved something on the dungeon wall he was sure would get his message across.

NOT SAFE - DM

"waht, the Hells is that?" the tenticle pony gasped.

"that's... I message from my brother! see the initials! I knew something wasn't on tha up n' up! I would have bumped inta him by now!"

'Yes! that's it!'

" he's in Danger! I need ta' stay until I find em. can't be anythin' else."

Couth coughed up a fit of rage. well he tried she's on her own now. the hour was getting late, he needs to leave with Falcata and company soon. you do not piss Luna off.

[Telgin]

The next morning, after the two had awoken, bid each other farewell and went about their day, the first thing Kris does is track down her mother's hammer.  Fortunately somepony had been kind enough to pick it up from the field of battle and return it to the armory.  It was caked with grime from where she'd carelessly dropped it to the ground, as if it meant nothing to her.  She returns to her room with the disgraced weapon, along with the needed supplies to return it to its rightful shine.

As she sits on her bed and stares into her marred reflection in its surface, she again thinks back to what happened the previous day.  She begins wiping away the grime on its surface, her thoughts changing to her mother instead of the more recent death.  She hadn't made her mother proud at all.  First she'd thrown herself at an opponent she was hopelessly incapable of beating, and taken the results she deserved.  And now, she'd let her fear hold her back in the single most devastating attack she'd known of in Glitterglen, and now her grandpa was dead too.

She looks up briefly to the magical chest sitting off in the corner of the room.  The one that contained her mother's final words to everypony, which still held her final words to Thundersplinters, who would never get to read them.  She rereads the last few lines in her head.  Her mother said she'd always be watching over her.  She couldn't help but wonder if she'd seen this failure.

She hadn't made anypony proud.  "...I... I'm sorry mom... I failed... I let you down..." she says, trying to find the motivation to finish polishing her hammer.  "And I'm sorry to you too, grandma and grandpa... I... if I'd been there with you... you two might be alive too..."

A tear drips onto the grimy silver surface of the hammer, and a sniffle passes her lips as she begins wiping it away with the rest of the grit.  "I'm so sorry..."


Only steps away, but eternally out of sight, Falcata and Estoc watch the heartwrenching scene.  They hold each other and take turns consoling the other.  Falcata watches in emotional torment as her daughter begins crying again.  "You haven't let me down Kris... by the Sisters I'm proud of you..."

Estoc continues rubbing her back and nods slowly.  "She's made me so proud too..."

Finally Falcata turns her eyes away and says, "...I... I really don't know how much more of this I can take..."

[Impending Doom]

Starkey tentatively pokes his head through the door, scanning the room before laying eyes on Falcata.

"Oh, Falcata... I was wondering where you'd got to."

He steps through into the room. Otik, however, emerges from the wall just beside him.

"Ye know ye dun' hafta do that anymore, hun."

"I know, but... it just feels right. How is she?"

[DVNO]

Willow was about to knock on Khenal's office door, but hesitated. was her hair alright? was there any Diomidian blood on her clothes? Maybe one final check through her report, to see if all the commas and periods are in the right places? The first impressions are the most important, after all! She should come back... Willow realized she was having a minor panic attack and laughed.

"Nah Willow, there's nothing to worry about! The Captain won't bite." she assured herself.

She looked down at the lengthy report she wrote, filled with Diomidian battle tactics, group numbers, weapons, background information on the monster that Killed Starkey, and anything else useful she could rip out of her captive.

"just let the work speak for itself."

She opens the door.

"Uh, Captian Khenal? are you busy? It's a' recruit Willow, the Uh, new girl. I have something for yah."

[Telgin]

Falcata and Estoc part long enough for her to address the question.  Her cheeks are damp from crying, and she tries to level her voice to reply, "She... she seems to be handling it... tolerably..."  She wasn't going to mention that she'd read Kris' diary as she was writing in it early that morning.  Everything she'd kept to herself the night before with Adamant was now in her diary.  In truth, she wasn't handling it all that well, but she didn't want to admit that to herself yet.  "She's really scared and upset..."

Kris is still polishing the hammer as they look on.  She chokes again and pauses long enough to let a few fresh tears form in her eyes.  "I'm so sorry, grandpa..." she repeats as she starts polishing it again.

[Impending Doom]

Starkey approaches the bed, raising a hoof as if to wipe her tears away. He holds it there for a moment, then lowers it, silently. Otik moves to his side.

"Stars, hun..."

"Oh, Otik... I was too slow... I failed. Failed her, failed Friesden, Heiro..."

She pulls him close, holding him.

[Telgin]

Kris sets her hammer aside, having returned it to something resembling a clean state.  She lowers her head and sniffles again before wiping her nose.  "I'm so sorry... grandpa... grandma... mom... and everypony else I couldn't help..."  She looks up briefly and scans her eyes across the room.  "If... if any of you really are there... I'm sorry... I tried... I really did..."  She chokes on her words again and raises a hoof to her face, covering her eyes.  "...it just wasn't good enough..."

She stands still for a few seconds, trying and failing to contain her emotions.  Finally, she manages to level herself, and she takes the hammer with her magic.  "...better go report for duty..." she says under her breath before heading for the door.

Falcata and Estoc's expressions grown even more concerned as they watch her leave.  Falcata wipes her eyes and shakes her head.  "...this is killing me..."

[Impending Doom]

"I... just wish I could say something to her, tell her it's not her fault, tell her how sorry I am..."

[Telgin]

Falcata silently watches as Kris mopes out of the room, unable to reply.  Estoc steps forward and says, "I... think that's exactly what we should do.  I think we've put off talking to her for too long..."

She nods slowly.  "I... think you're right..."

[Impending Doom]

Starkey's head snaps up. He turns to look at the pair.

"What do you mean? How is that possible?"