//------------------------------// // That Day, Is Not This Day // Story: Redemption. // by Lord Vinder //------------------------------// Italics denotes Celestia reliving old memories. The winds command the pegasi. Where they blew, they flew. When they blew fast, the ponies flew fast,. When they blew slow, they flew slow. It was an uneasy relationship, at least to those on the ground it seemed uneasy. The pegasi, ever ready to defend their kind, never viewed it uneasy; they viewed it as a challenge. A challenge for the dominance of the skies; but not the typical command and conquer dominance, but a who was more important dominance. Neither won; the wind needed the pegasi to command anything, and the pegasi needed the wind for a challenge. As Princess Celestia flew from the castle and to the nearby area, just beyond where the rails to Canterlot ran, the challenge of the pegasi was her only friend. It did not comfort her, provide support, or assist, but it did not hurt, or desire her to fly in a single direction. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was at a content peace. She knew what lay ahead, as any pony who studied knew. The area was called Iron Pass, as it was the area where ponies would travel to Canterlot before the rail line was put. Since most of those who travelled were soldiers, or merchants pulling carts of iron, it was called Iron Pass. The locals called it Iron Trot, since it was a very difficult trot; steep, long, and not often having the most coloured characters as one would expect. Nowadays, it was kept clean and clear, and left for exercise buffs, and the Special Forces to use. Still, as Celestia landed, she closed her eyes. The sounds of nature filled her ears, and the smell of the trees filled his nostrils. It was peace and quiet, not known or found in many places around Canterlot. The natural greens, and browns, and colours of the world surrounded her, and did not judge. The harmony of the world, was calm. Soon, her nose picked up the scent of copper, steel, iron, and her ears heard the cries of stallions. She opened them, fearful of what was around her. Her nose was not mistaken, as her eyes showed. They showed thousands upon thousands of ponies deep in combat, just a little ways away from her. It seemed time, once again, for another moment of combat for her wings and horn. “Ah, Princess Celestia, so good of you to join us,” a voice boomed out. “The enemy has already engaged our forces.” Celestia looked on to the battle. While the Pass was an uphill area, the troops seemed to be fighting on one of the more level areas--a little ways up the mountain from a larger area called Skater. The unicorns were up away from the fighting, waiting for a chance to let out their magic blasts--blasting, the Generals called it. She could see the pegasi up in the air, dropping rocks, and other heavy objects, trying to prevent the enemy from engaging. But rebel unicorns were shooting them, or at least trying to, out of the air. Every now and then, she’d see a few bodies come crashing to the ground, or barely stay in the air. “Yes,” she said, watching the fight. “What is the plan?” “Better terrain; this area is too level, we need the height advantage,” Colonel Armour noted. “Then we can blast them and send them routing.” “Thundercloud isn’t stupid, he’ll have the unicorns killed, even if he has to lead the airforce himself,” an Earth pony said, finally turning to face the officers and Princess. “Sir, with all due re-” “I’d be careful what you said next, Colonel. I am not sending my stallions to their death; there will be no baaaing,” the officer said. “I know General Thundercloud; his dislike of blasting is well known, and I know he’d be pleased to wipe out any unicorn caught blasting.” “I understand, General, but will he be willing to take the losses reqired to do so?” Celestia asked. “You’re implying that he’ll lose anything worth a damn, You’re Majesty,” he said, looking at her with a straight face. “He could lose half of his troops, yet if he takes Canterlot, he won’t care, because this rebellion will be over.” “What about Manehatten, and other major cities?” Armour asked. The General started laughing, almost to the point where he fell over. His voice filled the group with dread. “Manehatten couldn’t put up a defence even if they had all the troops in the world, and I assume Thundercloud already occupied it before he left. The East Coast might be able to hold out for a while, but they don’t have any idea how to mount a defence on their own. The West, well they have Vanhoover, meaning Saddle will just be concerned with defending itself--until it falls. The South is just a matter of marching in, and the North, well Gryphon wars, if I had to make a claim. Really, Canterlot is too much of a hub. We lose it, or they gain it, and the battles over,” he explained. “And once you have the major cities, the rural areas will follow; they require them too much to rebel for any length of time.” “Then what do you suggest, General Altrotaire?” Celestia asked. He paused, for a moment, and surveyed the battle. It looked like a mess--and it was--but Altrotaire seemed to read it like a scholar with an old text. More time passed, and he said nothing, but give him so much as a glance and he looked as if he was talking notes. “General?” Colonel Armour asked. Yet he said not a word, nor made any indication he was asked a question--let alone that others were with him. “Here is fine,” he finally said. “I can see the enemy is being worn down, and our troops are still fresh. I’d suggest we let them retreat, then if we must, we blast them then.” “But we’re greenhorn; the Third Army is decorated and professional; we have no such detachment with us tha-” “And I’m aware of that, Colonel. However, we outnumber them, and we’ve got superior weapons; the Third Army had yet to be upgraded, nor has it been reinforced since it left Manehatten. They can fight as hard as they like, but they’ve been in enemy territory for far too long and have been only given the barest amount of substance. This is a battle of attrition, and we are going to win.” “Princess, what say you?” asked Armour. “I trust the General,” she said without wasting a moment. “His loyalty has never been in question, and his talent and respect have earned him the love of his troops, officers, and support staff, isn’t that right?” Altrotaire turned to face the battle, but for the smallest possible moment, one would swear they saw a blush or light smile on his face. “Yes, Your Majesty,” Armour said. “The Generals orders stand?” “Until they are changed, yes,” Celestia ordered. “Have you any requests for me and my guard, General?” “Left flank could use your support, but I would prefer if you stayed out of the fight. Colonel Armour can take the right, and I’ll assume command of the center,” Altrotaire said, adjusting his armour. “Orders are to live. Send a report to me if there is any issue.” “Yes, sir!” Armour said, and took his leave, galloping over with his guards. “He’s a good soldier,” Celestia noted. “He’ll make a better officer, “ Altrotaire replied with. “He has the trust of his troop, and respect of his fellow officers, he just doesn’t get combat.” “He was following orders at Vanhoover, General.” “Orders that anyone could have told you weren’t update. But he refused to change them,” he explained. “I’m not saying he made the wrong choice, Your Majesty, but I am saying sometimes Headquarters shouldn’t get all the love. Orders can change, even if they aren’t issued.” Celestia said nothing, but motioned for her guards to come over. They were bandaged up in some areas, but appeared willing and ready to fight. Their armour was still chipped and bent a little, but their weapons were clear and ready to go. “Left flank,” she said, leading the way. She donned her own armour, a dull gold coloured metal that allowed movement in key areas, but protected her vitals. Her eyes closed for a few moments, and she let the noise of the battle get louder, as her hoof steps got closer. Yelling, orders, metal on metal, metal on wing, clashes of bodies and final breaths filled the air around her. She felt blood fly and land on her wings, staining the ground. With a deep breath, she opened them, and looked around. Bodies. Iron. Blood. Bits of wings. Feathers. The scent of magic being used as a weapon. The occasional cough escaped from near dead lips, sending spurts of blood and saliva into the air, only to fall on the cheeks of those who made the noise. She looked down, and saw between her front legs was a leg, lightly bruised and cut. Between her back legs was a wing, nearly destroyed. Below her was a body, bloody and almost entirely covered in dirt--like it had been hastily buried, but really had just been done in after death. Hooves would kick up dirt, and almost bury a pony. If they couldn’t get up in time, they might be buried alive--the soldiers called it going home. Glancing around, while avoiding looking at the ground, she saw what she was looking for. Several ponies surrounding something. She took to the sky, trying to fly to it, but before she could make it, the vision ended, and she was left looking at the path further down from Canterlot mountain. The sun was high in sky--perhaps it was just after noon. The area was clean, and smelled of trees. It was no longer the battle ground. Without hesitation, she took to the sky and flew back. --- Working in the castle wasn’t the most glamorous life, but it did beat a lot of things. To Quill, it was just another day of approving plans, and filling out paperwork for other plans. Repairs on the castle, in the city itself, approving budgets, and hiring new ponies. Just another early afternoon--save for the bandage that drooped down from his head and covered his eyes every now and then, that wasn’t typical. The door to his shared office swung open, and Celestia walked in. Without so much as a glance up, Quill had tea being poured. Celestia took a seat at the table near the window, and looked out it. “Everything is on schedule, Your Majesty,” he said pouring her a cup. “How was Sk--” “I couldn’t finish it.” Quill said nothing but took a seat across from her, glancing out the window. “What happened?” Using her magic, she lifted her tea and holds it on a hoof. “I had my eyes closed.” “Did you see General Altrotaire?” “Not his final moments.” “How about Colonel Armour and his barrage?” “Not the barrage.” “The retreat?” “Not even when I took the flank.” Quill looked outside again, his eyes closed and slips sealed. “You missed the entire battle.” “Nearly every moment.” “See anyone after the site was finished?” “Not a one. Didn’t think I would. Aerial Ace and Waterwheel were two of my most loyal retainers who joined her. Who would I see that was not them” She asked, looking into Quills eyes. “He dies soon.” “I know.” “The next battle, was the last in the Rebellion.” “I know.” “You need to see it, Your Majesty. I know it isn’t easy, but you need to make peace with these moments; not only for your sake, but Luna’s sake,” Quill explained. “You-” “Damnit Quill, don’t you think I know what’s at stake here?” She asked, glaring at him and throwing the cup to the ground. “A thousand years of darkness, I get it.” “Then act like you care,” he retorted. His voice wasn’t raised, and his tone didn’t change. His eyes only met her for a moment in time. “We don’t have much time. The Plains of Neighbra is now farm land, just a bit west of Ponyville. If you hurry, you can make it their soon.” “We?” “You’re not alone, I’m still here, aren’t I?” Quill asked, giving her a smile. “Its not easy, but it needs to be done. It’s our best hope of buying Twilight time.” “You’ll hold down the castle?” She asked, looking at him in the eye. “Unless you want me to do something else?” “Be honest, what are our chances of succeeding?” She asked, seeming unsure of what faced her. “Failure isn’t an option. It’s never an option when it comes to this,” Quill noted, trotting back to his desk. “I’ll keep the wheel of bureaucracy turning, you make it so we have a wheel turn and a bureaucracy to get angry with.” Celestia smirked. “I think you got a few metaphors mixed up, but thank you. I shall continue on.” Quill just smiled, and resumed his work. “As I was, as I shall continue,” he mused out as Celestia left the table and made her way to the door.