>You are Moss Moon, and for once, you are warm
>Every night since that evening in Hollow Shades, you’ve been sleeping wrapped up with Anon in his cloak
>You’d slept beside him before, of course, but he’d never held you like he does now, or let you press your face into his neck
>It’s the most wonderful feeling to be next to someone, to feel the slow rise and fall of his chest, his steady heartbeat
>You don’t think you’ve ever felt this happy
>Even when you’re just walking during the day, you find yourself smiling for no apparent reason
>Everything about him pleases you, and his presence is relaxing
>Even so, you struggle to contain your feelings
>You’re well aware of what infatuation is supposed to be like
>It’s only been a handful of weeks that you’ve known him, and yet he feels like the best friend you’ve ever had
>Perhaps because he is.
>It’s a sobering thought
>The morning after you’d kissed him, you had been reserved with him
>You didn’t know what to feel or what to say, and you told him as much
>He was kind as he patted your back and gave you some dried fruit to eat
>“I liked it,” was all he said
>The simplicity of it made you smile, and you’d relaxed a little
“I liked it, too,” you’d replied.  
>He had smiled, before leaning down to kiss your forehead
>That had been the last time his lips had touched you
>The past few days he had seemed content just to hug you at night, and frankly that’s been enough for you
>You still tremble when he touches you
>You don’t know how you could stand more, when just being held fills you with warmth and euphoria
>Sometimes he rubs your ears, much longer and more intimately than before, and it makes you feel a strange tingling all over, and you can’t help but sigh into his neck
>But now he dozes, breathing quietly, as the two of you lie in the shadow of a great rock
>The Breaker
>Usually you’d be asleep already
>When you were alone, you’d sometimes lay awake for an hour or more, trying to fall asleep
>Now you doze off almost instantly, so comforted are you by Anon’s embrace
>Not tonight, though
>For tonight is the last night you’ll be together before you reach the Stronghold
>The eleven precious vials glow softly, secreted away in your saddlebags and Anon’s pack
>Your heart aches to see Hex and Nightstone, and to tend to any foals who have already fallen ill
>The sickness moves fast; you want to reach them as soon as possible
>If it weren’t for the blood-drinkers that come out at night, you’d already be forging your way to the Stronghold
>But that anxiety is colored by a new pain
>The thought that your companion might not be able to come with you
>You’ve suffered disappointment and heartbreak before, but this feels different
>Like a flower being plucked before it has a chance to bloom
>Shivering, you nuzzle into Anon, trying to quell your nerves
>He’s asleep, but unconsciously he holds you a little tighter
>It helps a little
>You give up a small prayer to the Goddess, for the health and safety of the orphans, and with the wish that whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll be able to see Anon again one day
>The words finally give you some peace
>You drift off, cushioned by Anon’s warmth

>With dawn comes the final leg of your journey
>You both make your way out of valley, climbing the slope toward the Stronghold
>Navigating the forest takes most of the day
>Little is said between you; the exertion of the climb takes most of your focus
>It’s mid-afternoon by the time you emerge into a clearing near the road
>You stand for a moment, looking up where it curves around, leading up to the eastern entrance
>Anon stands a little ways apart
>“How are you going to get back in?” he asks
“There’s a secret way, a hole higher up in the rocks.  I can get down from there, but I can’t get back up.”
>He nods, and gives you a sad smile
>“All right.  I’ll wait out here for awhile, in case something happens.”
>Looking at him, you feel a sudden rush of emotion
>The gentleness of him, of his eyes
>It’s hard to see him as a killer, though that is what he is
>You'd always thought of humans as dangerous creatures, monsters even
>But in traveling with him, you’ve seen that he is different
>He is kind, and brave, and he is your good friend
>And as much as it hurts, you have to leave him here
>You’re shaking again, and your eyes are full of tears, but you smile up at him, and touch his foot with your hoof
“Thank you, Anonymous,” you say.  “I’ll… I’ll miss you.”
>He kneels down to hug you one last time
>You close your eyes, pressing into him, and shudder with joy when he kisses the top of your head
>“Don’t worry,” he says cheerfully, after breaking away.  “We’ll see each other again.”
>He watches from afar as you creep off into the trees, and raises his hand in goodbye when you look over your shoulder at him
>You raise your hoof, and then you are gone, into the woods
>Feeling somehow both miserable and elated, you press on toward the Stronghold
>It takes only a few minutes for you to reach the outcropping of rock that looks over the eastern entrance
>You crawl out to the edge and peek over
>A paroxysm of shock runs through you
>Immediately you see that something is very wrong
>Posted at the gate is the brilliant blue banner of the Asperi, and leaning up against the stone is a single human guard
>He looks rough, broad in the shoulder and the belly, with an axe hanging at his waist
>Savagely he eats an apple, juice dripping down his chin
>You hear faint screeching coming from within the Stronghold

>Anon looks surprised when you run into the clearing
>“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to see into the trees behind you.  “Did something happen?”
>Breathlessly, you explain what you saw
>His face is pale when you finish
>“Why would the Asperi send a unit out here?”
“I don’t know, but they’ve occupied the Stronghold.  I heard screaming…”
>Anon’s expression hardens
>He begins walking up the road, and you chase after him
“Anon, wait!  We can’t just fight them, there’s only two of us!”
>“I’m not going to fight them.  At least, not yet.  I’m going to ask them for work.”
“What…?”
>“I’m a mercenary.  If I ask for a job, they’re honorbound to bring me to their captain.  Once I’m inside, I can help you.”
>You want to protest, to tell him not to put himself in danger
>But you know that he understands the risk of what he’s doing
>And you need his help
>You take a deep breath, quashing your fear and your worry
>You’ve come this far together, and you know that together you can solve this
“Okay, let’s do it.  What should I do?”
>“Go in through that secret entrance like you were planning.  Get to the foals and take care of them.  I’ll see what I can learn about what’s going on.  Where’s a good place to meet?”
>You tell him about the hidden orchard, the one you’d shown Hex and Nightstone before you left
>He agrees to meet you there at nightfall, and once again sets off up the road
“Anon, hold on –”
>When he turns around, he’s just barely able to balance himself as you leap on him, standing on your hind legs
>You feel incredibly warm as you clumsily kiss him on the mouth
>He’s smiling as he curls his hand into your mane, holding you tightly, deepening the kiss until a wonderful sense of satisfaction glows in your belly
>Your eyes meet when you part
>“Take care, Moss Moon,” he says, grinning broadly, before heading back up the road
“Don’t get killed!” you call.  “Again!”
>You hear him laughing, and you watch until he has gone around the bend and out of sight
>Your heart pounding your chest, you run off into the woods, and make for the secret entrance in the wall of the Stronghold

>You are Anonymous, and you feel more alive than you ever have
>Moss Moon really surprised you that time
>You can still feel her kiss lingering on your mouth, the bite of her fangs
>It fills you with a heady sense of courage, overriding the fear you have when you see the guard standing by the eastern gate
>The man glares at you as he tosses an apple core into the forest
>His hand drops lazily to the hilt of his axe
>He demands to know what you want
“Take me to your captain,” you say, remembering the ritualistic speech taught to you by Father.  “I’m looking for work.”
>The guard’s dark eyes bore into you unerringly, but he flicks his head toward the entrance
>“Go in.  Follow main road.  Lead you to square.  There, find captain.”
>His northern accent is nearly incomprehensible, but the directions are easy enough to follow
>His gaze tracks you as you step inside, but he doesn’t follow you in
>You are horrified by what you encounter
>Smoke rises in a black cloud from the center of the Stronghold
>You smell charcoal and burnt flesh 
>Screeches come sporadically from places further inside
>You pass a few more humans as you walk down the main street; they eye you coldly, saying nothing
>There are no bat ponies outside that you can see
>When you reach the market square, gone are the colorful stalls and merchants with their wares
>Instead you see wooden fortifications, and a great bonfire in the center
>Two humans flank the space where the road enters the square
>One is squat and bearded, the other stocky with long, matted hair
>They lift their swords and ask you to halt, again demanding to know your business
“Where is your captain?  I would ask him for work.”
>They exchange a glance
>“Captain is busy.  You will wait.”
>A high-pitched wail suddenly sounds from beyond the bonfire
>You know exactly what the captain is doing
>You struggle to suppress your anger
“No.  He will see me now.”
>The guards are taken aback as you step forward, brushing past them
>They do not move to stop you, however
>You round the edge of the bonfire, feeling its heat on your skin
>The smoke and flickering red light dulls your vision
>Up ahead you see a man dressed much differently than his subordinates
>A fine blue cape with intricate white trim is draped around his stooped shoulders, and he’s dressed in quality cloth and leather
>His head is crowned with long, shaggy hair
>A bat pony cowers at his feet, covering its face
>You see the man lift his boot, and before you can say a word, he delivers a swift kick to his prisoner
“Captain,” you shout, your voice tense.  “I am a free mercenary, looking for work.  I would entreat you for a position in your company.”
>The man had stepped forward to once again kick the sprawled form of the bat pony, but he freezes when you speak
>He stands there, unmoving
>It is then that your eyes adjust
>And you see the large black blade sticking up out of the earth beside him
>He turns slowly, dark eyes like empty voids over his hooked nose
>A terrible smile creases his thin lips
>“Is that you, Boy?” he asks.   “My, how you’ve grown.”
>A wave of horror washes over you
>You grit your teeth
“Cutter.”
>He shakes his head, lifting a finger
>“Oh, no.  It’s Captain, now,” he says.  “And your request for work… is denied.”
>Your hand goes to the hilt of your sword, but you are acutely aware that you are no longer alone
>Four guards have stepped into the square, all brandishing weapons
>Cutter pulls a long knife from a scabbard on his waist
>“Never thought I’d see you again, traitor,” he says.  “It’s been far too long.  Let’s sit down to tea, just you and I.”
>You face him, this nightmare man, standing by the fire
>Your lips ache
>Moss Moon –
>You pray that she’ll be all right
>The blade of your sword whispers as you pull it free.
