Finally, Megaera had the answers that she had been searching for. During a brief moment of rest, frustration at her own impotence had boiled inside her. How could she fight a foe that killed with a touch? How could she protect the family she had found if she could not fight what threatened them? But then the miracle had come, for surely it had been a miracle; a shining moment of glory that had turned despair into hope and frustration into determination. She’d seen the fountain bubble and churn and from that supernatural spout of water, the God of Earth had spoken. These demonic wraiths could be cured of the darkness that had consumed them; they only had to be captured first.

Meg ran from the room where the fountain churned, eager to begin her new quest. Excitement coursed through her; she needed to find Gaucho, he would help her, and other members of the W.A.R. effort as well. She began a circuit of the main cave of the Sanctuary, eyes alert and on the lookout for those familiar faces. Then She heard it: ”Come out and face the Blood King!” the shout was gruesome, and the wicked laughter that followed was even worse. The bay mare halted in her tracks, eyes and ears pointed at the cave’s entrance. Blood pounded in her ears, her own rapid heartbeat a mighty roar to none but her. There is one here! I could do it, we could take him down.

Quick, forceful steps carried her to the short tunnel that led to the world above. A grey stallion stood there, and one of the mad mares of the Asylum as well, and above paced the creature from nightmares: and amalgamation of boney wings and jagged horns and rotten flesh. "We need to get him to the waters by the Wall of History.” She spoke quickly and her voice was loud and harsh with the warrior’s rage that bubbled in her at the prospect of a fight. She didn’t wait for a reply, didn’t even look to see if the others would follow her, but running on pure impulse and instinct the bay mare charged up the slope an out into the open air.

Bursting out of the hole in the ground, Meg gave a bellow of rage. She struck a stone-hard hoof against the golden stone that marked the entrance (For luck) and it rang like a gong, reverberating through the air. Thought raced through her mind, almost to fast to recognize them: Avoid his horns! Avoid his hooves! Get him down! Push him! She skidded around, stretching out her wings for balance and spinning dust and rocks from the dry ground into the air. The brute was between her and the hole now. She lunged forward, slamming her wide chest into his side and reaching her snapping teeth to the side to bite at the base of the beats neck. “TO THE CAVE WITH YOU, BEAST! AND THE WATERS TAKE YOU!”