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The old stallion had braced himself, but he was not prepared for the mass that the skinwalker had heading straight for him. The skinwalker landed his hit with a deafening thud. It all happened in slow motion to Scythe... His large wings nearly folded in half as his body seemed to suck out from between them. He didn't even have the balance left to stutter step, his hooves lifted from the ground and he fell to his side, his breath knocked from him.

Dazed, Scythe tried his best not to let his pain show on his face. He tried to take slow deep breaths, but he was sure that the helmet of his attacker had broken some ribs. He tried to slow his breathing and make his way back to his hooves, he grimmaced.

Keep his attention... Don't loose him!

"Attack of a coward!" he struggled, trying to find his feeting, "Fight me on my hooves!"

Zulian felt a peculiar feeling come over him. He was filled with triumph and bloodlust... but then he was suddenly feeling pain and confusion. It was the light! The light being emitted from the half-angeni stallion running at him burned his eyes when he looked at it. He was no longer concerned with fighting Scythe, he just wanted to be away from that horrible light. Cringing, he backed away as the burning glare got closer and closer.

He had always had an instinctive hatred of those with angeni blood and now he knew why. He felt like he might go mad in the light if he was trapped in it too long. Head lowered, he snarled like a cornered cat as he backed away. "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!" he yowled.

Samsara shielded herself with a wing so the light that reached her was filtered and weaker. Her father stood between her and Nirvana, preventing her from reaching Nirvana herself. Even with her wings in between her and the source, the light filled her with revulsion. "Zulian, you have to kill him!" she shouted.

She couldn't fight back against her father in this state. She was forced to retreat away from him to keep from being destroyed while unable to retaliate. Her eyes squinted shut until they were barely slitted open. Even so, the light clawed the inside of her skull. "Zulian... I said kill him!" Her voice raised to a commanding scream. "KILL HIM!" If Zulian didn't manage to take out Nirvana, the fight would be over.

The skinwalker pulled away from him. Nirvana stood dead still as if rooted to the spot. He saw blood on the skinwalker's lips but felt no pain. Oh. This isn't so bad. I'll just have an interesting scar to talk about. He smiled. Being attacked by the kalona was so much worse. This was really nothing compared to that.

Blood coursed in a steady stream down his neck. Everything from his throat and down was soaked red in the first few seconds after the strike. He swayed a little but kept smiling his airy smile, the same one that he always wore on the calm days in the Padmapani herd. He felt fine. How could he not feel fine when his wonderful son was so strong, and when his lovely daughter Bodhisattva was standing beside him?

When did Bodhisattva get here? He asked himself. She looked so sad, her eyes full of tears and holding her wings out to him, inviting him into their embrace. He took a tottering step toward her. Whatever was wrong, he wanted to comfort and protect her. He wanted to see her laugh and sing again, not stare at him with her eyes full of sorrow.

"It's all right, Bodhi. I'm here," he told her softly. He heard voices around him as if they were shouting from the end of a distant tunnel. Glissando was saying something, but Nirvana couldn't catch the words. The blood spilling from his neck had formed an ever-expanding puddle beneath him, though the flow was now slowing. Each pump of his straining heart sent another pulse of blood out of his body, and with each heartbeat, Bodhisattva became a little clearer. "Don't cry, I'm fine. I'm here." He smiled weakly at his daughter, stepped forward into her embrace, and fell over onto the ground.

His eyes closed.

He had taken the few moments Nirvana had given him to get back to his feet, but he had not been fast enough. He heard Samsara's orders to Zulian, and he knew the fate of his family member had been sealed once the skinwalker took hold.

"Nirvana!" he roared, his eyes filled with anger, pain, and guilt. He hadn't been fast enough... The skinwalker had caught the delicate arteries in Nirvana's neck..with each pump of his heart, Nirvana's life spilled from his body.

Without thinking, Scythe charged with what strength he had. The cursed beast had to die, he would not allow him to live to hurt anymore of his herd.

He faltered.

In the moments of action, Scythe had not realized that one of his ankles had been injured. With ever step he took, the pain shot up into his body. After only a few sprinting steps towards the skinwalker, the old stallion fell again.

This battle... This looked to be his last without a miracle.

Zulian was still half-mad from the light. For once in his life he didn't like the taste of blood. It tasted like angeni and purity to him and he wanted desperately to get it out of his mouth. He spat vilely to one side and his tongue lolled out of his mouth in disgust. The blood had splattered on his legs too and he shook them compulsively to try to shake the offensive blood off. It would have been the ideal moment to attack him, but that moment ended when he lifted his head to see Scythe crashing to the ground.

In his agitation, Zulian stared at the fallen Scythe. He saw him as a threat and an enemy even when sprawled on the ground. Wildly, he wondered if Scythe could emit a horrible light just like that other soquili had. They both looked a lot alike so it made sense to Zulian that the old stallion might be able to hurt him similarly too. Fearing this, Zulian attacked. He swung his massive head downwards. His fangs were already red from Nirvana's blood, but soon they would be colored with the blood of another.

The metal adorning Scythe's wings collided with Zulian's helmet and sent his helmet flying. Suddenly, his head was unprotected. Though the bulk of the blow had been absorbed in knocking the helmet off, Zulian still was hit with the remainder of the blow. Even when bleeding on the ground, the stallion could make an impressive hit. The metal tore through the skin on Zulian's cheek, causing him to roar with pain.

With his head spinning from the hit, Zulian staggered backwards. He stared at Scythe with new-found respect. Had he underestimated him? Was that possible? How could it be that an ancient stallion near death could almost knock him over with one strike? His glowing eye flicked from one direction to the next. There were too many things to focus on. There was fighting all around him and he felt his senses begin to overload. He wanted to attack the unicorn mare with the sword but then there was Samsara fighting the elder. There was the wounded stallion on the ground that he still wanted to kill, but there was his helmet also on the ground staring at him with vacant eyes like a skull.

Zulian shivered. "This isn't fun anymore. Why isn't this fun anymore?" He tried to fit his head back into his helmet but only sent it spinning. Chasing after it, he picked it up in his mouth. He couldn't get his armor back on and was still in pain from where a collapsed stallion had hit him. Nothing made sense to him anymore.

Samsara was latched onto Haya. She had a firm grip on his throat but it was his windpipe, not his arteries. She couldn't kill him instantly like Zulian killed Nirvana. The death she would give him was the slow and choking variety. Just as she had killed many deer and other smaller animals in her time as a skinwalker, Samsara clamped down tight on his windpipe and didn't let go. She held on even as he thrashed. At first he could wheeze but even that was cut off as her vise-like grip tightened.

He was dying.

Her mind was a riot, a wildfire, a stampede. This was the moment she had waited for. This was the grand ending to the fate for which she had been born into the world. All at once her life bombarded her. She was herself, then she was herself as a filly. She remembered how Haya had looked at her with pity, pitying her for the tainted blood he had given her. She gripped tighter.

Next, she was herself as a young adult, a mare freshly out in the world. Instead of being full of joy she had felt nothing but shame. He had been the one to shame her, the one to tell her that her natural instincts were filthy and wrong. She gripped tighter.

She was now herself when she was newly transformed, the skinwalker pelt on her back still unfamiliar and strange. Her father had been there then too. She came to him looking for answers. He gave her one. He told her that she was a monster, so she became one. She gripped tighter.

Finally, she was all these selves combined. She was Samsara. Her father's movements began to still, and yet she held on. Soon it would be over, all the pain that she had felt due to him would be gone.

She heard a familiar voice.