"Halt!"

All across the land, the war had raged for weeks. Fighting, death, everywhere one looked... brother on brother, friend on friend. Blood washed the land. The ground was wet with it, the river heavy with it.

This was the end.

"Halt!" The lovely voice rings out again, alerting ears long dead. It is a rich voice, whole and true, frighteningly powerful and comfortingly sweet. A female's voice. You blink.

"Do not despair," said the voice. It fills your ears, reverberating through the bone, into your very soul. Penetrating. But welcoming. "Come. Rest now."

You blink again, clearing your vision of the blinding red of blood and battle. It hurts. But the voice is compelling; you feel the need to obey it, at all costs.

Rising to your feet - a surprisingly easy task; where had the pain gone? - you lift your head to meet your gentle savior. What you see, standing before you, is breathtaking. A glorious, solid white mare with a pair of magnificent, feathered wings resting along her sides. Although the night is dark, she seems to radiate her own light. It warms you.

And there, standing beside her, majestically bathed in her heavenly glow, stands the ghostly figure of Sage Credence. Dead.

The goddess mare lowers her neck to you, and touches her nose briefly to yours. It sends a surge of life through you: warmth, spirit. "Come," she states simply, as her mighty wings unfurl themselves and stretch out as open beacons against the night sky. "A new life awaits you, my warrior."