RIS Headquarters was as quiet as a tomb. The sterile whitewashed walls of the complex were so silent, the buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead sounded like the roar of an ocean. Many of the offices were dark, their occupants home and in bed. Bentgrass, however, was not. He occupied one of the only lit rooms in the building, slumped over the piles of evidence procured from Clydesdale Manor.
He scowled down at each piece of evidence when they refused to reveal their secrets to him. He had spent more time with this case than any other he could recall. But when it was a matter of national security, no force in Equestria could tear his attention away. He knew that if he stared long and hard enough at the photographs and the pages and books that he would find the hidden answers locked away within them.
A strong gust of wind rattled the windowpane behind his head. He turned to peer out into the dark winter night, watching as the snowstorm raged outside in a flurry of white on black. His frown deepened. Soldiers were out there right now with the princesses as they visited the cities of Equestria for the holidays. They were risking their lives to protect the rulers of this great nation, all while waiting on him to tell them when and where the ambush would be coming from, just as they had been for months now.
But until then, he sat at the desk smothered with evidence, sipping at an exceptionally bad cup of coffee and throwing himself into his work. He rubbed his aching shoulder where the scar of a gunshot wound remained. It reminded him of what he was working to prevent. There had to be something he was missing… Some small, seemingly insignificant detail that would hint towards Alaric’s intentions. This whole ordeal had been a mess since that first day back in May.
The wind shook the glass again, and the power flickered overhead. Bentgrass didn’t so much as glance up at the lights. He was far too busy re-reading everything again. He had stared at these pages so many times, it had gotten to the point that he had memorized the lines, reciting them in his head before his eyes even touched the ink.
The record is to show that on this date, the buyer, Alaric Dawnbreaker, did purchase the classified itineraries of Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza for the price of 100,000 bits. Hereby, the buyer does admit to possession of classified and stolen documents.
Bentgrass shook his head. There was nothing specific in there. Nothing he could use to pin Alaric to a certain timeframe, at least. Most of the year had gone by in an uneventful blur. That only left a few engagements in the year, but that was still several moments his allies would be on their toes, unsure if today would be the day they were attacked. They needed to be a step ahead. They needed to know.
The pallid agent took another deep swallow of the bitter coffee and grimaced at the acidic taste. He turned the page to the next transaction with Alaric. He had purchased more weapons and a map of Equestria. It meant nothing. Bentgrass sighed and set the page aside on another. He grabbed the map in question, turning it over and over in his hooves. The lights flickered on and off again. The folded up paper didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. But then why did Dandridge feel the need to order it along with a purchase of weapons?
After setting the paper down, he tapped his cheek with an idle hoof. His eyes traced the creases in the map while he tried to work out some train of thought in his mind. His hooves worked to unfold the map, following the lines of the counties in the nation as they revealed themselves with each fold undone. When it was all spread out across the desk, Bentgrass studied the whole thing in its entirety with great care and precision. There didn’t seem to be any special notes or codes or clues hidden anywhere on the map—no logos or symbols on any towns, no marks on any roads, nothing. All that was in front of him was a ruined map.
Wait…
A ruined map. A small section of the map had been cut out. His mind began to race. Dandridge’s office, his house, hell, his entire life was immaculate and pristine. There wasn’t a mar nor slight anywhere in his pursuit of perfection. So why would he keep a damaged map?
…Because he damaged it himself and didn’t get rid of the rest. It was so insignificant that he ignored it, and so did we.
Bentgrass looked over the missing segment of Equestria’s south-western counties. It was a relatively small clipping, only containing a portion of Whitetail Woods and a couple of towns. It was also small enough to fit in a hoof, or a pocket, a vast improvement over the entire large map. Realization dawned on him as the power flickered yet again.
Dandridge didn’t sell the map… He sold a portion of the map… The portion Alaric wanted.
He dove across the table, his hooves scrabbling for the copy of the princesses’ schedules. Only one princess had engagements scheduled in the holidays around that region. Only one group was in any danger.
The wind whipped up a curtain of light, fluffy snow in front of Fleethoof’s face as he stepped out into the cold night. A small town in the middle of Whitetail Woods was not where he had expected Cadance to have a pressing Hearth’s Warming appearance. He didn’t even know the name of the village they were in right now. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping Cadance safe at all costs.
He stared out at the white wonderland of snow as the storm blew across Equestria, covering the land in the fine crystalline powder of winter. His teeth clenched together and he pulled his blazer tighter to his body to ward off the chill. A full moon shone through breaks in the clouds, sending bursts of silvery light across the freshly fallen snow and making the world sparkle. It was a magical sight to behold. If only it wasn’t marred by the constant threat of a sneak attack.
“Fuck this cold weather…” the pony standing beside him muttered, shivering in his gold armor. “I hate getting perimeter duty…”
“I hear you,” Fleethoof agreed. He glanced over at the pony as he swayed to and fro to keep from quivering. “Buck up, soldier. You’re a Royal Guard. Show some professionalism.”
The pony grumbled, but straightened up regardless. “Yes, sir…”
Fleethoof patrolled along the porch they were stationed on, glancing around into the quiet night. The door behind him opened up then, making both him and the Guard turn. Valiant stepped outside with another soldier beside him.
“Your turn inside, Captain,” he said, trading places with Fleethoof. “Anything happening tonight?”
“Not a soul in sight, Sergeant. I’m pretty sure the whole town is inside.”
“Yeah, no foolin’… Well, have fun. They just ended the intermission.”
Fleethoof nodded and slipped inside with the other Guard. The warm air hit his coat like a blow dryer, chasing the cold from his bones. It was a wonderful sensation stepping over the hearth. The inside of the school was dark, save for a few spotlights cast on a makeshift stage. Rows of chairs had been set up, each occupied by a pony, while foals pranced about on the stage, dressed in costumes from times long gone. Fleethoof recognized the annual Hearth’s Warming pageant with fond memories.
He slunk through the darkness around one side of the schoolhouse while his partner took the other side. Even from the back corner, he could see Cadance sitting up in the front row, her long multicolored mane a beacon in the dark.
“No, we shall call it Dirtville, cuz I’m getting all dirty!” a foal portraying Chancellor Puddinghead recited with complete conviction.
Her shoulders rose and fell as she giggled with the rest of the audience while the foals put on what had to be the most adorable rendition of the play Fleethoof had ever seen. It even made him smirk and shake with silent laughter. He spotted Cadance’s other bodyguard to her right and Midnight to her left. It was good to see she was still being well protected, even in this, the least likely of situations for anything to happen. Fleethoof, however, knew that was when trouble liked to strike the most.
Even though the room was dark, Fleethoof did his best to observe his surroundings. Drawings and other work done by the students hung in disarray on the wall. The blackboard behind the stage still had remnants of early age mathematics scribbled on it. It was a quaint one-room schoolhouse, just perfect for the little village. But what struck Fleethoof the most was the framed portrait of Cadance hanging on the wall beside the teacher’s desk. He cocked his head in curiosity, eyeing it for a good while before losing interest in trying to solve the mystery in his head.
The play continued on for half an hour more before coming to its happy conclusion. The ponies in the audience applauded, including Cadance and Midnight, not to any surprise. Fleethoof smirked and resisted the urge to roll his eyes when the lights came back on. The ponies broke from the audience, conversing amongst themselves while families collected their foals from the stage, singing praises and love. The close-knit community made Fleethoof smile from where he stood, a mere observer in the corner.
“That was so much fun!” Midnight squealed as she skipped up beside Fleethoof, all smiles and giggles. “I’ve never seen such an adorable play!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the princess?”
Midnight rolled her eyes and pointed at the alicorn talking to a group of families. “She’s right over there. Sheesh, Fleet, take a chill pill.”
“I’ll relax when we get back to Canterlot,” he remarked. His eyes stayed fixated on Cadance, watching her like a hawk from across the room. If anypony dared to try anything, he’d be on them in a heartbeat.
“Thanks for taking me along with you, by the way,” Midnight said. “I really thought you would’ve left me and Echo with Luna, with us being bats and all.”
Fleethoof rolled his shoulders in an idle shrug. “You’re a very skilled soldier, Midnight. I wanted you on my team.” He paused for a moment. “Plus you said you felt safe around me.”
“I do. Thanks again.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Cadance shook hooves with everypony in the school, talking to them each individually until the families began to disperse back home. One by one, the crowd subsided until only Cadance and a couple ponies remained.
“Thank you so much for having me, Miss Marigold,” she said while giving the teacher a tight hug.
“Oh, thank you for coming, my dear Cadance!” the mare replied with happiness glowing off her expression. “I know how difficult it can be to make time to see us small town ponies.”
Cadance giggled and waved her off. “Nonsense! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”
“You are still the same sweetheart as I remember, Cadance. Now you take care out there. It’s a cold one tonight.”
“I will, thank you.” Cadance hugged the pony again and turned to Fleethoof, still standing across the room. “What do you say, Mister Head of Security? Is it time to be off?”
Fleethoof smirked and tipped his head in the semblance of a nod. “If you want to be back in Canterlot for tonight, your majesty.”
Cadance nodded and bid goodbye to the remaining ponies, and then followed her security detail outside. Cadance’s three carriage convoy had pulled up in front of the school, the guards standing beside open doors, waiting to load their occupants. Valiant and a Guard took to the front one while Midnight and the second went to the rear. Fleethoof led Cadance to the center carriage, holding the door open as she climbed in and followed in behind her. The Guard slid in on the opposite bench they were seated on and shut the cold outside.
Fleethoof felt the carriage rumble over the snow-covered roads as they rolled away from the town and into the still darkness of Whitetail Woods. From the window of the carriage, he glanced out into the black canvas of darkness, peering around for any traces of a threat. All he could see was snow—snow falling from the sky, snow kicked up into the air by the gales, and snow smothering the ground like a thick blanket of pristine whiteness. The world appeared to be a blank slate; undisturbed purity covering the land as far as the eye could see. Not a single creature stirred in the woods, and not a sound broke the silence other than the wind. Fleethoof felt bad for the ponies pulling the carriages and admired their perseverance.
“So how did you like the play, Captain?” Cadance asked him in passive politeness as she stared out the other window.
“It was an experience, your majesty.”
Cadance laughed and looked at him with an expression of disbelief. “‘Your majesty’? Really, Fleet?”
“Hey, if you’re using ‘Head of Security’ and ‘Captain’, then I’m using that on you,” he remarked with a teasing grin.
“Okay, okay, no more formalities,” she agreed with a smile. “So how did you like the play, Fleethoof?”
“It was adorable. I might have diabetes now. But why choose such an out-of-the-way town? You just saw the performance last night in Los Pegasus, and we could have been back in Canterlot by now.”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Fleethoof.” She leaned across the cushioned bench, a secretive smirk on her lips. “That was my hometown.”
Fleethoof stared at her with incredulity. He sniggered. “You’re lying to me.”
“No! I swear! I was raised there!”
“You were raised there?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“In that town?”
“That’s what ‘yes’ means.”
“And you went to that school?”
“That’s how I knew the teacher, yes.”
“Huh.” Fleethoof waited for his mind to process that information. “That makes sense why she would have a picture of you then.”
Cadance laughed and said, “Yes, she was great. The whole town thinks I’m special though, because I became an alicorn.”
“That’s right… you became an alicorn…” Fleethoof tossed that around in his head for a while. “How does that even happen anyway?”
“It’s a long story, but the short version is I used the power of love to defeat an evil witch in the woods and freed the village when I was very little. Then I became an alicorn and Aunt Celestia adopted me and took me to Canterlot.”
“Interesting…”
Cadance rolled her eyes. “You sound so very interested indeed…”
“No, really, I am!” Fleethoof jumped on the defensive as fast as he could, raising his hooves in surrender. He had learned better than to try to win an argument with the fairer sex. “I had no idea. So that was sort of like a homecoming for you.”
“Of sorts. It’s always nice to go back to where you came from.” She fixed her purple eyes on his. “Have you been home lately, Fleet?”
Fleethoof shied away from her gaze like an ashamed foal. “…No, I haven’t…”
She tilted her head in curiosity. “Why not?”
“I’ve been preoccupied with my work.”
“Fleet,” Cadance started with a soft laugh and a hoof on his shoulder. “You’re always preoccupied with your work. It’s like you’re married to your duty.”
“For all intents and purposes, I pretty much am,” he replied.
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Because if I don’t, nopony else will.”
Cadance snickered and patted his shoulder. “Come on. There will always be ponies to protect the world. You don’t have to be a superhero. You should still go see him, Fleethoof. At the end of the day, you still have ponies that care about you. You should give some of your time to the ones you love.”
The corner of Fleethoof’s mouth twitched in the hint of a crooked smile. His sapphire-blue eyes met hers again with more mirth to them. “You’re really annoying when you try to get in my head like that.”
“But you love me anyway,” she hummed happily.
“Yeah, yeah…”
The ride continued in silence for a while longer. Fleethoof continued to stare out at the falling snow. His mind had drifted away from the winter and the holidays and family. Alaric occupied the forefront of his thoughts. His enemy was out there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. He didn’t know where, and that bothered him more than anything.
“I love watching the snow fall,” Cadance spoke up to break the silence.
“Mmm…”
She turned her gaze from the window to the stallion seated beside her. “Do you have any regrets, Fleethoof?”
That got his attention. He cock a brow at her and rested his cheek on his hoof. “You jumped to that from ‘I like snow’?”
Cadence giggled at that. “You’re right, I did. Shiny always did say I was a bit scatterbrained.”
“So how come he’s Shiny and I’m Fleethoof?” he teased.
“Would you like me to call you ‘Fleety’?”
Fleethoof cringed at the name. Memories of Midnight’s tormenting came flooding back in droves. “I think I’m good.”
“All right then. So I’m scatterbrained and you’re deflecting,” she accused him with a mirthful smirk.
“I am not deflecting! I’m just…”—he paused—“thinking…”
Cadance folded her hooves across her lap and stared at him, waiting patiently. Her intense gaze made him feel like a teacher had just called on him in school and he didn’t know the answer. He opened his mouth a couple of times to speak before his brain even knew what words to say.
“I suppose I regret not spending much time with my family… my friends… you…”
“Aww, Fleet…”
“…And I regret not killing Alaric when I could… Then none of this would be happening.”
“Aaand there goes the moment.” Cadance rolled her eyes and let slip a soft sigh. “Do you ever stop thinking about your duty?”
“Do you ever stop thinking about yours?” he challenged.
“Yes, I do. I know when to separate being a princess and being a pony,” Cadance remarked. Her words were gentle, but her tone was firm, assured of her point. “You don’t seem to be able to do that.”
Fleethoof ground his teeth together behind pursed lips. “I can’t. I know too much about the world to ever just stop being a warrior.”
“Haven’t you ever just wanted a peaceful life? No more fighting, no more killing… Just harmony and friends, maybe a wife and foals?”
His eyes dropped from hers to the space in between them. A normal life… The idea sounded so foreign in his head. He had lived a normal life once, long before he took the uniform and the oath. But even that seemed a lifetime ago.
“Maybe… I never thought anything of myself beyond this, but… yeah, I think I’d probably do all right. I don’t know if I could do it though. Maybe I’m just wired wrong, or maybe I was meant to do this.”
“And are you happy living this life forever?”
Again, he found himself without an answer. Cadance was getting much too good at rendering him speechless. She asked the questions that went straight for his heart. He didn’t know if he could exist beyond the military. He didn’t know if he could live what others called a ‘normal life’.
“Celestia dammit, Cadance. It’s like your special talent is throwing me off my game,” he said in jest, chuckling under his breath.
“Well, that’s what happens when you get to spend extended periods of time with me,” she laughed. “I learn things.”
“Yeah, yeah… Happy Hearth’s Warming to me, huh?”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Cadance reached under the seats with her magic, levitating a small wood box with a scarlet bow tied around it out with her magic. Fleethoof eyed the box with curiosity, and then her with suspicion.
“What is it?”
“It’s for you, silly! Happy Hearth’s Warming!”
Fleethoof chuckled and took the box. “Am I allowed to open it now?”
“Go right ahead,” she said with an encouraging wave of her hoof. “I want you to have it now.”
Fleethoof smiled and unwrapped the present with careful hooves and teeth. The lovely bow fell away with ease and the box opened up with a gentle nudge. The inside was lined with black velvet, and a shimmer of silver made his eyes widen. An intricate silver chain lay out across the length of the box, the fine woven metalwork shown off in all its splendor. At the end of the chain hung a small heart carved out of a pale blue crystal. Fleethoof risked a surreptitious glance to confirm that the heart matched Cadance’s cutie mark to the letter.
He lifted the pendant out with great care, watching the way it spun and shimmered in the dimmed light of the carriage. It seemed to reflect every color of the rainbow when struck the right way, but the blue glow remained predominant. Fleethoof was speechless, blown away by the gift.
“I take it by your slack jaw and big eyes that you like it?” Cadance joked.
“Cadance, it’s amazing,” he said, still staring at it in wonder. “I’ve never seen metalwork like this before. Where did you get it?”
“A friend of mine in Oxford makes old Equestrian style jewelry. I asked him to make this one special for you. I hope it isn’t too girly or anything.”
“No, no! It looks cool. Like something out of Medieval times.”
The blue aura surrounded the pendant again, taking it from his grasp delicately. Fleethoof watched as she unfastened the clasp and then put it around his neck. The heart fell perfectly over where his beat. Of all the medals he had ever worn on his chest, none had felt as great or as important as the simple token felt on him now.
“You know,” he started with a breathy laugh. “You’re making me feel like a real selfish bastard for not having a gift for you right now.”
Cadance laughed as well and brushed him off with a dismissive wave. “You don’t have to give me anything in return, Fleethoof. This was something I wanted to do for you.”
“Even still, I want to return the gesture…” He paused, turning the empty box around in his hooves a few times while he thought. One thing stood out in his mind, something he had dreamed about for a long time. “Have you ever been to Trottingham?”
“Yes, on several occasions. Why?”
“I’ve never been there before, but I hear it’s gorgeous,” he remarked, looking up at Cadance with a hopeful grin. “Would you like to take a trip there for a few days with me when the weather warms up? Just the two of us?”
Her eyes lit up with understanding, a coy smile gracing her face as she pretended to mull the thought over. Fleethoof groaned and made a dramatic motion of his heart breaking. “I’d love to.”
“Great… great! Wonderful!” He gave a nervous laugh, and then stared down at his pendant once more with his crooked smile. “Thank you, Cadance. This is… wow…”
“I’m glad you like it, Fleet. You’ve earned it.”
Fleethoof looked up at her. He stared in wonder of her warm eyes, her inviting smile, the friendliness and love that seemed to radiate off of her. Just being around Cadance made him feel like an entirely different pony. “I’ve earned it for doing what?” he asked.
Cadance’s smile widened a touch. “For being one of the best ponies I have ever had the pleasure to know.”
“That’s only because you make me the better pony I am,” he remarked, both surprised and proud of himself for how well he delivered that line. Cadance giggled and rolled her eyes.
“Smooth. One liners were never your strong suit.”
“No, my actions speak louder than my words.”
“Then let them speak for you,” she cooed with a simper to him.
Fleethoof’s breath caught in his throat. His heart pumped flames through his blood, igniting him like a bonfire. Cadance was staring at him, challenging him, waiting for him to take her up on that claim. He shifted closer across the seat towards her, and then paused.
“Look away, soldier,” he ordered the pony seated across from them. The pony was already staring out into the night, ignoring them to the best of her abilities. He smirked; he liked this soldier.
Left to himself and to Cadance, Fleethoof turned back. She was only a breath away now, so close that it terrified and excited him. He leaned closer until he could feel her breath against the end of his muzzle. Her eyes drifted closed as she leaned in as well, moving closer across the seat. Their noses met first, that first contact sending electricity coursing through Fleethoof that made his nerves want to leap out of his skin. Every synapse fired in his brain. He reached up with a gentle hoof, cupping her cheek to guide her mouth to his. So close…
“Fleethoof…” she whispered under her breath. He felt every syllable against his lips.
“Cadance…” he whispered back, moving in for the kiss.
There was a sudden blink of light outside the window. Fleethoof’s eyes turned from Cadance to the window in a split second. Bright lights came barreling towards them from the side, charging straight at them faster than he had time to process what was happening.
“Get down!” Fleethoof shouted.
He was able to grab Cadance’s head and cover her with his body before the impact slammed into the side of the carriage, sending them tumbling backward into the wall and shards of glass slicing across his face. Gravity shifted and reversed, and the ponies were thrown around the inside of the carriage like rag dolls. Cadance gripped tight to his body as they tumbled about. Fleethoof felt himself falling for all of two seconds, fighting to keep Cadance covered and protected at all times. A jarring shift of gravity threw them backwards, and then his head hit something solid, and everything went black.
A muffled ringing pounded at Fleethoof’s eardrums as consciousness seeped back into his brain. The first sensation to return was touch. He felt his body thrown haphazardly across something hard. Cold stung at every inch of his being. There was a painful drumming in the back of his head and his insides felt twisted up and in all the wrong places. The next sense to come back was his hearing. The ringing began to fade out to the point where he could just make out somepony calling his name. It sounded like he was underwater though, and the voice was so very far away.
His eyes opened. The world that greeted him was a dizzying blur of spinning colors. He saw lots of dark shades mix with white and pink. His name was called out again. He groaned and struggled to move. Every muscle in his body felt like dead weight. His sense of gravity told him he was lying on his back. Why was he on his back? Sitting up was a battle against his weak and shocked muscles. When he tried to right himself, he heard his name. It still sounded muggy and distant, but it was definitely his name.
“Fleethoof!”
He looked up again, his dancing vision settling into hazy shapes and figures. He saw the pink settle into a hazy Cadance. She was in the air above him, reaching down with a desperate hoof to try and grab him. His brow furrowed. How was she above him? He winced and tried to sit up a little more. A bolt of fiery pain shot up his rear leg, breaking through the fog he was in and making him cry out. The pulsing in his head continued to assault the back of his tender skull. He lifted a tentative hoof, gently prodding the back of his sore head. He winced as a sharp pain stabbed through his skull. Damp warmth met his touch, and wet stains of dark red were smeared across his hoof.
“Fleethoof!”
His gaze turned to Cadance just in time to see a pair of talons grab the screaming princess around her midsection and hoist her out of the opening above him. Fleethoof’s system kicked into overdrive as adrenaline rushed through his body. Fueled by the invigorating chemical, he looked around to get his bearings. He was inside the carriage, but the carriage was different. He was looking at the floor in front of him and was lying on a door. There was an opening above his head revealing the dark, snowy sky. His mind put two and two together. The carriage was knocked over on its side.
He glanced around, trying to find the other soldier. He found her in a heap at his side, her body twisted in unnatural positions and her head hanging limp off her shoulder. He didn’t need to be a doctor to know she had broken her neck in the wreck. And then Fleethoof heard the last thing he wanted to hear then and there.
A scream and then gunfire.
Fleethoof grunted as he pulled his pistol from the holster within his blazer and peered up at the door above his head. He could hear something scraping along the top of the carriage. He waited, and waited. A griffon poked its head into view, a pistol in its talon. Fleethoof put two rounds in the griffon’s head and moved aside as the body collapsed into the carriage. His wings too sore from the wreck to fly, Fleethoof hoisted his bruised and cut body out of the wreckage and into the cold air.
On top of the destroyed vehicle, Fleethoof saw the chaos for what it was. The carriage had been blindsided by another that had come straight out of the woods. It was an ambush. The other two in the convoy had stopped and the ponies were taking shelter behind the vehicles, popping shots off at griffons as they emerged from the dark nighttime woods. Across the makeshift battlefield, Fleethoof could see two griffons wrestling Cadance off into the darkness.
“Cadance!” he cried out, his voice hoarse.
He slid forward and jumped off the carriage, collapsing to the snow as soon as his hooves made contact with the ground. Pain seared through his leg, making him grit his teeth and tears well up in his eyes. He fought through the agony with blind determination, limping through the dense snow after her. A griffon ran at him from the side, a rifle clutched in his talons. Fleethoof reacted on pure instinct and lifted his gun. His arm felt like dead weight, and his aim was shaky at best. He dropped his enemy with several bullets to the chest. He hobbled forward, firing by feel from the hip and dropping another two griffons while they ran out of the woods. His eyes shifted in and out of focus periodically, making it impossible to rely on his unsteady aim.
Cadance was no longer in sight. All he could see were a dozen griffons opening fire on the convoy. The ponies that had been pulling the carriages were all dead, gunned down at the onset of the fight before they could get out of their harnesses. Fleethoof slumped forward through the heavy snow without cover, ignoring the thumping of his heartbeat in his head, the agonizing fire in his leg, and the ringing in his ears. He had to rescue Cadance. He had no alternative.
“Captain!” Valiant’s voice caught him by surprise. He must have seen him fighting through the open. “Cover the captain!”
The gunfire changed direction as Valiant’s soldiers laid down covering fire against the griffons. To his left, Midnight let hell loose in the form of calculated shots. Every time she pulled the trigger, another griffon hit the snow and didn’t get up. Then Fleethoof’s legs hit a patch of deep snow as he trudged on and gravity took over. He fell forward into the snow bank, stumbling to get up amongst the gunfight.
Valiant broke from cover, rushing over to pull Fleethoof back up. A bullet snapped past Fleethoof’s head, catching Valiant in the leg. The pony yelped and fell back to the snow, clutching his wounded leg while continuing to shoot at anything he could see. Fleethoof rose up, putting rounds into each griffon that tried to stop him. The number of enemies slowly dwindled down with each exchange.
Fleethoof followed the tracks in the snow to the edge of the forest, panting hard for breath as he dragged his injured leg behind him now. As he reached the edge of the forest, he heard a twig snap beside him and the raspy breath of a living creature.
“Fleet! Watch out!”
Midnight’s words were punctuated by a multitude of rapid gunshots. She was ruthless in her assault as she killed the griffon going for him. Nothing stirred along the road in the woods anymore. The griffons lay dead in the snow, the blizzard already working to bury their bloodied bodies. Fleethoof fought the weather, pushing into the darkness of the woods. Cadance; he had to find Cadance.
“Cadance!” he called out to her in the dark.
The footprints were his only trail now. He couldn’t hear her cries for him any longer. The wind drowned out every sound beyond the whistling in his ears. He grasped at the pendant still hanging around his neck, struggling on with all his remaining strength.
“Cadance!”
The footprints ended abruptly about twenty meters from the road, just beyond the line of sight from the carriages. Fleethoof looked around with desperate, horrified eyes, convinced he had missed the path somewhere. He must have. He hadn’t. The tracks led to where he stood and just ended, but the ring of disturbed snow told the story he didn’t want to know. The griffons had taken to the air with the captive princess. There was no way to track them now.
“Cadance!” he shouted into the empty darkness, praying with all his might that she could hear him wherever she was. The wind howled with ferocity, whipping up a blinding sheet of snow around him. He couldn’t give up hope. He couldn’t give up on her.
Silence answered him back. Silence was all he was left with. Cadance was gone.
“Cadance!”