The last light of day faded to night leaving the light of the moon and the sparks shooting off Arturia’s sword. Sweat beaded down her face falling into the brush even while hot sparks fell and failed to catch. Her distraction gave him time to plunder through her discarded pack. There were useless letters, a banner with a sword, shield, and wand within a horseshoe on a blue canvas. The canvas’s edges were frayed and the warn poorly repaired holes dotted the fabric. Nero concluded it was important. There were also a few old rags inside. He took of the rags and folded them flat. Using the needle and thread the sewed them together.

He placed a hand on her rump. “I’m behind you.” She nodded her head and continued trying to spark the old brush. Between swipes of flint he quickly tied it around her forehead.

“You could give it a shot.” Arturia grumbled. Nero rolled his shoulders.

“Maybe a fire isn’t a good idea. Aren’t there raptors in these woods? Nero asked.

“This camp has been warded against those pests.” She said. Indeed, their camp was surrounded by posts covered in mystical symbols. He assumed those must be the wards she was talking about. He couldn’t sense a thing from them.

“So, what’s your story are you a stable mutation or are you a dungeon made monster?” Nero asked. She swiped a few more times before glaring at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My parents were centaurs, their parents were centaurs, and their parent’s parents were centaurs.” Nero frowned and wondered for second if he’d been wrong. That spider woman’s words haunted him and the undeath cloths dug in too deep.

“When a human enters this place, they slowly become monsters. Is there anyone like me in your village?” Nero asked.

“There are the elves. Short miserable vegans who turn away mother’s milk, I’d say you look most like the fairy.” Arturia said. Nero blanched at the thought that the closest people to himself were a bunch of tiny winged pranksters.

“So, I’m most like a bunch of tiny winged people.” Nero said.

“No, the fairy are tall and often brutish much like yourself. None other than a fairy would hop into a Tyranoroid’s mouth to escape its attack. You have a similar magic capacity if only your ears weren’t so round and your eyes tiny.” Arturia let out a sigh.

“Oh, do you have the hots for a fairy. Come on girl tell me all about him.” Nero said with his most sarcastic voice.

“I don’t take well to demands about my love life. This task is frustrating if you trade with me, I’ll tell you who I wish to mate with.” Nero took hold of her sword careful not to shatter the blade. He ran the flint over the steel and understood it was harder than it looked.

“What would you do if we mated and I knocked you up?” He believed they were still similar enough for that to happen.

“You would need quite the length to reach my cervix and the force to open it against my will. No, you wouldn’t have put a foal in me. On the off chance you did then I’d send the filly or colt to a mage academy once they left my breast. They are sure to inherit a percentage of our combined attributes.” Nero rolled his shoulders.

“We were talking about the fairy you wanted.” Nero watched Arturia walk over to the edge of the parameter and take a shit. He shook his head and looked away.

“Apologizes, under the moon raptors are at their most aggressive. They’ll kill sometimes for sport. I’ve seen many a promising filly and boss mare die because they were too modest or proud to take a shit in the camp.” Arturia said.

Nero concentrated on the strokes, adjusted his angle, and gathered more sparks. They rained on the brush, until smoke began to rise. He bent low and blew gently into the brush. It caught quickly. The fire began to catch on to the tiny dry twigs they’d collected. With that he began to pile slightly larger sticks.

When the fire roared with life he relaxed. With that done they just needed to find something to eat. Nero looked up to see a couple pheasants on a branch high above.

“So you were talking about that fairy you like.” Nero said.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Oh, her name is Guinevere and she is the most darling fairy I’ve ever met. Her mana is powerful, I’ve never seen such beautiful skin as hers, and she is a masterful shapeshifter. I went on this quest with Lanceleon to acquire a rare golden apple from the badlands.” Arturia said and then blushed.

“I’m going to confess after she bites into the apple. When she tastes the divine sweetness of a golden apple and I confess she’ll always equate me with the sweet feeling.” He closed his eyes and let out a breath. It was probably the heat from the campfire. Nero felt a funny feeling in his chest. It might have been the pain of his mana.

“What if she doesn’t accept it?” Arturia looked down at her hooves and poked one of the logs.

“She promised me. I gave Sir Lanceleon the apple to give to her. You’ll see our love when we reach my home.” Arturia said. He reached out and clasped her hand.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t take me too seriously I’ve had bad luck with women. It’s made me bitter.” Nero said the words and hoped they would set her at ease.

He picked up a few pebbles and thumped them at the birds one at a time. They fell into Arturia’s arms and she quickly demonstrated the proper way to defeather and skin the pheasants. Some salt and pepper from her pack gave the game some flavor before they roasted them over the fire.

After the first full meal he’s had in a while they slept together by the fire. She curled up and he laid against her rump and watched the stars. They were only the ceiling of the first floor.

What would happen if Lanceleon also desires Guinevere and used the apple to take the fairy as his wife? Nero knew that the odds were Arturia had been declared dead. He didn’t voice his worries and didn’t want to use them to hurt her. It was a strange feeling to worry about another. This feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away. He didn’t like it.

They next morning they threw dirt on the smoldering campfire and made their way along the trail. He road atop her back using cling when Arturia made a harsh turn. Heavy stones covered the ground along the path lined with similar runes to those that hid their camp through the night. In the distance he saw a large tower peaking through the trees.

“There’s a tower up ahead is it part of the Canterlot.” Nero asked. She looked up for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, we are close to the village Chalice. Beyond those trees you’ll see the fields.” True to her word just beyond the tree line miles of farmland paralleled the path and the river. Long golden fields of wheat, green rows of corn, and a vast number of orchards grew tall. Tiny grey creatures moved about harvested. They moved with a mechanical pace. None hastened their work or slowed down.

“Is this your first time seeing the golems of Canterlot?”

“Yes, it doesn’t seem efficient.” Nero said.

“I’m not an expert on golem creation. But don’t say that around a fairy. Especially not my Guinevere. She takes pride in her golem craft.” Arturia said.

“Why not use them for war?” Nero asked.

“Many have raised the same question. It isn’t the will of Epona. Let not the stone, copper, or brass fight in your stead for I am with you. Only through the purity of the body can a righteous victory be won. Those who don’t heed my words have spurned my sacrifice and so I will turn my back on them when Shango the black bicorn rises.” Arturia said. The words flew out of her mouth in rapid succession it was hard to make everything out.

“That’s interesting,” Nero muttered. Why was he surprised that he’d run into a society with a Jesus and a Satan? “Does that make a black coat and two horns evil?”

“No, it is his actions that made him grow an extra horn. He was once the most beautiful unicorn his pride replaced his black coat with scales, his hooves with claws, and he grew a second horn but this one was of defiance.” Nero nodded his head. He made a mental note not to ask about religion anymore.

“Is there anything I can wear that will help me blend in better?” Nero asked.

“I’d advise growing four hooved legs but that doesn’t seem possible. As a squire of a knight showing distaste to my savior is unbecoming. The rabble and other nobles won’t see it that way. You are an outsider with only my father’s good name for protection.” Arturia said.

High walls peaked over the farmland. Those walls were surrounded by a vast moat where the water was channeled from the river. Off in the distance just to the west of the river that flowed north to south was a group of centaurs pulling wagons down another road.

“Who rules over this village?” Nero asked.

“The gods rule but their representative is a fairy named Annon a descendant of the goddess Rhiannon the first. He stands tall in defiance of the invaders.” Nero blinked at the sudden vehemence in her voice.

“Who are the invaders?” Nero asked.

“The serpents, now enough of this dreary topic we must gain entry and obtain room and board. I’d advise you to let the guards assume you are a fairy. My father’s name has little sway in Chalice.”

Two centaurs stood guard they watched Arturia’s approach in silence. After a moment one galloped forward and looked Arturia over. He galloped around her twice. Dust kicked up from his slow pounding hooves while Nero felt Arturia heat up under the centaur guard’s critical eye.

“Why did you choose to have round ears?” The guard asked.

“I thought they fit my head perfectly.” The centaur shook his head and galloped back into place. He tapped a few runes on a panel and the gate to the drawbridge opened.

“Enjoy your stay eccentric fairy.” The longer he stayed here the surer he was they didn’t know he was human. Fairies could be a stable form of mutation or they could be a controlled mutation. He’d never met one but by the way Arturia gushed over Guinevere, he was sure they were upper class. Another thought came to mind. Did he want to become a fairy? Could he acquire certain skills and guide his mutation. Or were they all doomed to become like the spider woman and the manticore.

Arturia suddenly pointed. “Look at that Nero they completed it.” He followed her finger to see a massive statue of a winged centaur with a single massive horn growing from her head. Her hoof bore down on a winged snake’s head while her arms opened wide. It was massive easily 200ft tall.

“Is that Epona?” Nero asked.

“Of course, it is no other goddess is so white and pure. She loved us so that she stood against the great serpents upon their invasion. Do you see the great tower shield Pridwen? It is large enough for any centaur to float across a river on.” It was only after she said that did, he notice the platform she stood upon was shaped like a shield.

“What happened to the shield?” Nero asked.

“It was lost during the retreat. Someday, I’ll enter the Tyranoroid lands and find it. Those serpents won’t hold onto our lands forever.” Nero pointed to the sword at the goddess’s side. She followed his finger. “That is the sword that knights Clarent.” Nero nodded his head as they entered the city.

Through his mana he felt something. Loss, desire, and a powerful will those emotions radiated from this woman he rode. Her every step flared her determination higher. It made his mana swirl inside of him and his flesh ache. Nero wanted to move to walk and wield his knew strength. It pained him that his body was glass. More than two seconds of movement would cost him a life.

Then there were the serpent lands. He was certain the entrance to the next floor was there. If he was going to make his way down, then he needed her. He needed a steed that could take him into battle and handle the physical things while he focused on magic.

“You can’t do it alone. If you will carry me then you’ll be my knight and I’ll be your mage. If you handle the physical, then I’ll handle the magical side.”