//------------------------------// // Chapter 24 - Divided // Story: Parks and Wilderness // by stphven //------------------------------// The mountain of claw and scale glares down at us. Reptilian eyes gleaming in the dark. A deep, rumbling growl spills from maw, shaking the very earth beneath my boots. Or maybe I'm just shaking in my boots. Hard to tell, really. ”Well, bugger this,” Feather Trail announces, tail firmly between her legs. “Time to go.” She loops her forehooves around Glacier’s midsection and extends her golden wings. ”Private, you still good to fly?” “Wha…? Ah! Y-yes, corporal!” I squeak. I am Private Punch, and I am most definitely not still good to fly. After spending the last half hour soaring through the desert, my injured wings feel like they’re about to fall off. But I’ve still got enough left in me to escape a ground-bound beastie. Right? As if in response, said beastie takes a step towards us. Slow and purposeful. Like it’s trying to sneak up on us, absurd as that is. It’s still some distance away, yet far too close for comfort. “D-d-definitely time to go!” ”Wait!” Glacier suddenly exclaims. We both jump in surprise at the outburst, Feather almost toppling over. “Anon’s still here! We can’t leave him!” ”What?” “Who?” We both stare at Glacier in confusion. (Though never quite taking our eyes off the giant monster.) Glace continues looking ahead, eyes darting. I’d thought she was just watching the sand wyrm, but now I realise she’s looking beyond it. ”Anon,” she says, distracted. “H-he was near the tunnel entrance when the Dust Devil hit. But I, I lost track of him.” “There’s another pony here?” Feather asks, rearing in surprise. My own ears perk up at the unexpected news. Glacier begins to shake her head. Then pauses. “A- a friend,” she settles on. Feather looks even more incredulous. But my attention is squarely on Glacier. Her distress is clearly genuine, even bordering on panic. Her ears are pinned back; breaths coming in short and fast; blinking away tears. But she never once stops searching the valley ahead. Looking for any sign of her friend. I exchange concerned glances with Feather. See the unspoken question in her eyes: “Could there really be another pony out here? Or is Glacier delirious?” I shrug helplessly. Glace has been lost in the desert for the last two days. Heatstroke, an infected wound, or even just extreme isolation could cause a pony to start seeing things. That seems more likely than her actually running into somepony out here. But I don’t have time to properly assess her condition. And as Royal Guards, can we really risk retreating without first confirming Glacier’s story? Panicked thoughts swirl through my head as I search for the right answer. But it only takes Feather a moment to reach her conclusion. She turns back to Glacier, determination written on her face. (She is a Parks and Wilderness Guard. Protecting civilians from monsters is kinda her thing.) ”Alright. Glace? Sergeant?” Feather lifts a hoof and gently shakes her friend. Glacier blinks, and turns to face her. ”We need a plan,” Feather continues in a professional tone. “What are our orders?” The crystal mare seems dazed for a moment. Lost. Seconds slip by. The wyrm continues prowling forward. Long snout open lazily, as though anticipating the meal to come. The tremors in my hooves intensify. I'm just on the verge of declaring Glacier medically unfit for duty - she looks like she’s about to collapse! - when suddenly she shakes her head. Her eyes refocus, and her expression sharpens. She turns to look appraisingly at the wyrm, now scarcely a dozen metres away. ”Corporal Trail,” she barks, voice even and controlled. “Get into the air and fly rings around that thing. Nothing risky; just keep it distracted.” ”On it!” Feather Trail launches into the air, kicking up a burst of sand. Within seconds she’s bearing down on the lumbering drake, her oversized spear gleaming in the twilight. Unfortunately I've no time to watch the epic clash between monster and monster hunter, as Glacier immediately turns to me. ”Private Punch, keep a low profile and circle around behind the wyrm. Anon should be somewhere near the base of those cliffs. Find him, and get him out of here. We’ll buy you some time.” My ears flick. I don’t like leaving Glacier like this. I’ve only just found her again! Plus, she clearly needs medical attention. Though now that she’s giving orders, she does look and sound much more like her old self. That’s a good sign. And if there really is a civilian around here, then their safety has to be my priority. “Yes, sergeant!” Still, I wish I could do something for her… “Oh! Here, you’d better take this.” I quickly unsling my canteen and hoof it over. Glacier’s eyes light up as she receives the precious cargo. The bottle’s still mostly full. She can’t resist taking a quick swig immediately. “You always were running out of water,” I say with a cheeky grin. Glacier chokes and sputters, ears red with embarrassment. ”Gee, -cough- thanks, Fruit,” she deadpans, putting the bottle away. But she can’t quite hide her grateful smile. “Now get going!” I salute, and take to the sky (less dramatically than Feather Trail). I feel a little better now, sore wings notwithstanding. Though I still can’t shake this feeling of apprehension. Like I’ve missed something important. Things are just moving too fast! But it’s not like I’d be any help if I stayed with Glacier, right? What am I gonna do, fight the humongous sand dragon? Ha ha, no. I would get super murdered. Better leave the scary stuff to the professionals. Escorting civilians to safety is more my speed. “Alright. You can do this,” I tell myself. “All you’ve gotta do is find Anon, and get him out of here. What could go wrong?” Shrnk! ”UURRRAAAUGGHH!!!” Feather’s spear glances off the beast’s snout. It lunges at her as she passes, furious. But its jaws catch only air. She’s far too nimble for the hulking brute. The golden mare arcs away gracefully. A gleaming blur against the grey and pink sky. She takes a moment to observe her foe, gliding almost leisurely. But soon she’s diving back towards it. She has to keep the wyrm focused on her. Can’t risk it growing bored. The beast rears up as she approaches. Like an old fashioned joust, the two strike at each other as they pass. But Feather isn’t aiming for injury. These are probing attacks. Gauging her target’s speed and reach. She uses her spear to bait the wyrm, keeping as much distance herself as possible. ”RROAGH!!” Shrnk! The wyrm snaps at the silver needle as it whizzes by. But all it gets for its trouble is a slash across the neck. No penetration, though; I can tell just from the ringing sound. Those draconic scales are too thick, even for Feather’s greatspear. I am Sergeant Glacier, and I really wish I hadn’t lost my sword. The one weapon which had any hope of punching through that armour, and I dropped it back by the cliff. Now it’s probably been buried by the Dust Devil. Not that I could accomplish much if I still had it. Just look at me! I'm bleeding, exhausted, and can barely use magic. Plus, I'm trying to lead the wyrm away from the cliffs; if I engaged it now, I’d be fighting it on open ground, with no cover or elevation. Still, it would have been something. A sharp, heavy lump of metal thrust at the eye will give even a dragon pause. And even if I had no chance of beating the wyrm, I could at least have taken some of the pressure off Feather. Instead, I'm forced to watch helplessly as my friend takes all the risks. Shrnk! ”RRGGHH!” ”Woah!” Feather exclaims as the wyrm suddenly leaps forward, surprising her with its reach. It may be big and clumsy, but it’s certainly not slow. Feather just barely manages to tumble out of the way, wings beating furiously. I grit my teeth, resisting the temptation to shout advice. The mare knows what she’s doing. Making noise will only draw attention to myself. And if the wyrm decides I'm the easier meal, that’ll make Feather’s job even harder. No, better for me to lay low and observe. Ready to act in a critical moment. I can’t take the wyrm head-on, but a well timed warning or distraction could save my friend’s life. Perhaps I could fling my knife in the beast’s eye or open mouth, should I get the chance? Though that’s the problem: I'm only going to get one chance. As soon as I make myself known, I doubt even Feather will be able to protect me. I just hope Fruit finds Anon before it comes to that. “Anon? Ow! Twilight bucking damnit! Anon!” I'm Fruit Punch, and I am not a clever pony. I’d taken to the air to scout for Glacier’s missing friend… only to be quickly reminded that my wings are a giant ball of pain. “Ow, ow, ow!” After thirty seconds or so of graceless, painful flapping, it was clear that flight was not an option. One clumsy landing later, and I'm now galloping around on hoof. Doing my best to ignore my throbbing wings. “Anon? Anypony here?” I call out in a kind of stage-whisper, as loud as I dare. I don’t want to draw the sand wyrm’s attention, but I’ve gotta find this Anon soon. Nopony answers me. The only sounds are the kinda-distant-but-not-distant-enough roars of the wyrm. I do my best to ignore them. It’s not easy. The Macintosh mountains stretch far up above me. Tinted red in the early dawn light. But down here, everything is still draped in shadow. All dreary greys and pools of black. To my right, I can vaguely make out a pile of boulders. The aftermath of some ancient rockslide, perhaps. However it got there, the jumbled heap must have a million nooks and crannies big enough to hide a pony. I just hope that if Anon is in there somewhere, he hasn’t been knocked unconscious or anything. It could take hours to search thoroughly. I give the pile a quick once-over, but dare not spend too long. Turning left, I peer up the dark cliff looming nearby. While it has its fair share of cracks and fissures, there’s one obvious place to look: the old mine entrance. With a shudder, I remember my last journey down that tunnel. How we’d barely taken a dozen steps before some hulking monster blocked the entrance. Come to think of it, that must have been the sand wyrm, right? Same size, same shape. I grimace as I realise just how close I’d come to getting murdered yesterday. The wyrm had followed us into the tunnel, trapping us inside. If it weren’t for that Dust Devil spiriting us out of there, we’d almost certainly be wyrm food. Heh. And I’d been so mad at the Dust Devil, too! Now it turns out it saved my life? Was that the Sand Witch’s doing? Had She rescued us from the wyrm? If so, why send us back now? If she wanted to help Glace and Anon, why not just Dust Devil them to safety, too? “Urgh. I appreciate the help, sand lady, but you’re not making much sense!” Unfortunately, the Sand Lady does not conveniently appear before me in order to justify her actions. I shake my head. Gotta stay focused. I can’t do anything about the Witch, but the longer I delay the more danger Glace and Feather are in. And Anon might already be hurt, bleeding out into the sand somewhere. I saw how roughed up Glacier was, and she’s a fricken Parks and Wilderness veteran! I continue towards the mine entrance. Ancient timbers framing a deep darkness. Mounds of sand are piled up around the opening, probably a leftover from all those Dust Devils. Tiptoeing around the corner, I cautiously peek inside. Nopony in sight. (No sand wyrms, either.) But the tunnel runs deeper and deeper into the mountain. The pale, sandy floor quickly disappears into the gloom. Anon could have taken shelter further in. “H-hello?” I call out. After our last expedition, I'm not overly keen to go back down there. Maybe Anon will come out to meet me? ”ello… llo… lo…” I wait as the echoes slowly fade. Trying to pick up anything over the distant sounds of battle. Seconds pass. Perhaps I ought to take a few steps inside? Have a quick look around? I'm just mustering up the courage to enter, when suddenly the sand next to me moves. “EEEEP!” I leap aside, wings flaring painfully. What I had thought was just a loose pile of sand starts to rise. Long limbs snake their way to the surface, hauling a large mass behind them. Royal Guard training finally kicks in. I fumble for my sword, heart racing. The shape continues to emerge, oblivious to my drawn weapon. Great, rumbling coughs shake the sand loose from its back, giving me a better glimpse of the creature beneath. The beast is thin and gaunt, sand clinging to its naked skin. It’s taller than me. Taller even than the sand wyrm. Higher and higher it rises, standing unsteadily on two enormous legs. And in its hand is- “Hey! That’s Glacier’s sword!” I exclaim, slightly muffled by my own weapon. The creature starts back, seemingly just as surprised to see me here. Which is actually kinda reassuring. It probably wasn’t sneaking up on me, then. We eye each other warily for a moment. It’s certainly a strange, scary looking critter, but I'm pretty sure it’s no wild animal. For one thing, it’s wearing clothing of some sort. (Well, rags, really.) For another, it’s actually holding Glacier’s sword by the handle, like it knows what it’s doing. So, wait. If it’s got Glacier’s sword… “C-could you be… Anon?” It blinks in surprise, looking at me curiously. Its face isn’t as expressive as a pony’s, but I'm in the Harmony Corps; I work with other species all the time. I'm pretty good at picking up on their body language. Tapping its chest, the creature nods and repeats “Anon”. Then, in a deep, rough voice, it says… something else. “Sorry, what was that?” I couldn’t understand a single word! The creature speaks again. A whole bunch of words, tumbling out in a worried rush. With a sinking feeling, I realise he’s not speaking Equestrian. Or any language I know, for that matter. “Ahhh… Well, shit. This complicates things.” Shrnk! Crunch! I dive out of the way, hearing the huge jaws snap shut behind me. I grin at the narrow escape, adrenaline and exhilaration keeping me one flap ahead of the monster. I am Corporal Feather Trail, and I haven’t cut loose like this in years! Sure, inspecting traps and monitoring monster populations is important work. But it’s nice to get my hooves dirty once in a while. Prove I can still go hoof-to-claw with the biggest, baddest beasties in Equestria. However, no matter how much fun I'm having, I'm still a professional. I ignore the temptation to try some of my flashier moves. Instead, I stick with the boring but safe stuff. I’ve got a job to do, and I'm not going to let my guard down. Or let my Guards down, for that matter. I glance towards Glacier. The glittery unicorn is laying low, avoiding the sand wyrm’s notice while staying near enough to help. Good mare. She looked pretty rough when we found her; glad she’s not doing anything reckless. I'm not entirely sure what her plan is, but I’ve worked with her long enough to know she’s got a good head on her shoulders. I'm perfectly okay with leaving the decisions to her, while I focus on the fight. Shrnk! “ROOAARGH!” Heheh. That was a pretty good hit, if I do say so myself. Pricked the wyrm right in the ribs. The big lizard is definitely getting more pissed off at me. I see how it’s staying coiled low to the ground, head tracking my every move. Ready to snap as soon as I approach. I may be no more than a stinging insect to it, but there’s nothing more annoying than an insect that won’t go away. I can’t hurt the beast, and I doubt I can outlast it. Not after spending all of yesterday flying back and forth, and much of last night too. Still, I might be able to annoy this creature enough that it just goes away. That tactic works surprisingly often. I bank around slowly, giving my wings a break while I catch my breath. The wyrm’s still waiting some distance away, expecting I’ll come back for another attack. I let it wait. The longer I can draw this out, the better. Even if the wyrm never gives up, reinforcements are on the way. Sergeant Oak and the rest of my squad can’t be too far off. And that other filly - Private Punch - is off galloping around near the cliffs, presumably looking for Anon. Once she finds him then she and Glace can withdraw, leaving me free to disengage and fly away safely. Assuming this "Anon" actually exists. I spare a glance towards the mountains, trying to spot Punch. Last I saw her she was scrabbling around the base of those boulders. I can’t see her at the moment, but then again I don’t have a lot of altitude right now. She could be behind the heap, or a sand dune, or something. No, wait. There is something moving down there. What… is that thing? I squint. It’s no pony, that’s for sure. And where’s Punch? I slow down a bit, trying to make out details in the twilight. The… creature is speeding towards me on two long legs, kicking up a trail of sand. It’s holding something in one of its forelimbs. A... sword?? The way it holds the weapon and the way it stands upright suggest it’s a minotaur. But I don’t see any horns. It’s tall, and thin, and worryingly familiar. Why does it feel like I should know what it is? I rack my brains. Memories of the old Parks and Wilderness training centre slowly surface. Days spent memorising the greatest threats to Equestria. And the worst of the worst, the legendary monsters on The List. My heart stops beating for a moment as I realise what I'm looking at. “Oh, bloody hell.” What is she doing? I am Sergeant Glacier again, and Feather Trail is acting strange. She had been happily strafing the sand wyrm for several minutes, playing it fairly safe after learning the creature’s capabilities. But now she’s slowed to a stop, and is just hovering there. Only a few dozen hooves above the desert floor. And the wyrm has taken notice. The great, scaly beast stalks towards her. Surprisingly quiet on the soft sands. “C’mon, Trail,” I mutter, creeping along behind it. “Look behind you! What are you doing?!” She seems to be watching something intently. Is she looking at Fruit Punch? Did something happen to her? There’s unlikely to be any other large monsters nearby. Sand wyrms are too territorial - this one would have fought them off long ago. So unless Punch picked a fight with Anon, I can’t think of any other reason she’d be in trouble. True, Anon doesn’t speak Equestrian. And he does look kind of frightening. And humans are supposed to be monsters so terrifying they deserve a place on The List… My sluggish mind finally kicks into gear. The List! Anon’s a creature from The List, and I didn’t warn Feather! It hadn’t seemed important at the time. Not to my sleep-deprived brain, panicking brain. But if Feather saw a genuine human running across the desert… Well, I said it myself: Honestly, I dare any PWG to meet a creature from The List and not freeze up. Especially when you’re alone, at night, in the middle of nowhere... The wyrm is almost upon her. Muscles bunching up as it prepares to leap into the air. I’ve no choice. With a flash of my horn, I shout: “CORPORAL! MOVE!!!” My magically-enhanced voice booms across the sand dunes. Feather Trail flinches violently, but immediately starts forward. Years of military training forcing her to obey the order before it even consciously registers. Even the sand wyrm seems perturbed by the noise, hesitating a moment. But only a moment. It’s not enough. Launching after the fleeing pegasus, the giant wyrm streeetches its neck forward, jaws gaping wide. Moving faster than I thought possible. There’s a blur of motion. A metallic ringing noise. A crushing snap. And a scream. “No!” I gallop forward, all thoughts of stealth long gone. A golden streak tumbles away from the wyrm’s mouth. Falling limply to the ground. Before it can impact, yellow wings shoot out, converting downward motion into horizontal speed. Feather rockets forward, skimming unsteadily over the surface of the sand. Veering towards me. She’s almost reached me when one of her wings clips the ground. She’s sent into a violent spin, toppling and crashing through the sand, deep furrows in her wake. She slides to a stop a few hooves away. Half-buried. Unmoving. Stomping its great, clawed feet, the sand wyrm roars in triumph.