Metal Celestia

by Impossible Numbers

Iron Law

The row of earth ponies threw themselves forwards. All of them jolted backwards from the wall of purple lights, which pulsed white under the impact. One or two spun around, turning the rebound into momentum and bucking the shield instead. Cracks spread along its surface.

“They’re breaking through!” squeaked Slate, whose rust-red helmet rattled while she shook. “They’re breaking through!”

“Hold your position, captain.” Celestia ignored her maid when she dived for cover behind the battlements.

Merely inclining her head forwards, she fired another blast at the dome overhead. Around her, three more of the unicorn officers did the same, creating an upside-down display of shooting stars.

It would help if we weren’t on timber, she thought irritably. But then these are the frontier lands. No one ever built stone fortresses in a day.

Stone fortresses were what they needed, though; far down the temporary log pile that passed for a front wall, splinters and indents were scuffed with hoof marks. Earth ponies could do a lot of damage up close, especially after years of farming had turned their muscles into tight chains and their bones into diamonds.

Far beyond, the dunes of the desert stretched on. A cloud of dust followed the squad of buffalo as they charged, ran up the slope, past the scattering earth ponies, and right into the shield. Bits of magic cracked away like glass, shards shattering and evaporating in midair.

Of course. Celestia groaned into a hoof. The buffalo aren’t exactly happy to help us. I wonder how much grovelling and lying those earth ponies had to do to persuade them?

“There’ll be a rear attack,” said Celestia.

“P-P-Pardon?” said Slate, who squeaked and ducked back down again.

“They know we’re stretched. That’s how they toppled the previous forts; classic draining tactics. We spread our resources to two fronts, and they let their own endurance outlast us. Earth pony tactic. They have the long-term advantage in a siege.”

Weak as a much older mare, Slate forced herself upright again. “P-P-Permission to sp-sp-speak, m-m-m-m-ma’am?”

“Lieutenant!” Celestia waited until one of the officers came over. She resisted the urge to rub under her bronze armour; good as it looked for a stained glass window, it was murder on the saddle. “Take a squadron round the back and slip outside the shield boundary. If there is a rear attack waiting, I want it taken out quietly and quickly. As soon as their best pieces are off the board, we should be ready for a full assault. I just hope they didn’t have the sense to include any buffalo in their rearguard attack.”

As soon as he was gone, she peered up to the skies. Having said that, it does help we’re adopting more than unicornian tactics.

“Aha…” she murmured.

Slate saluted, murmuring “ow” when her hoof hit her red helmet by mistake. “Permission to speak, ma’am?”

Celestia did not look down. “Granted. Sorry. Had to think fast.”

“With all due respect, Your Grace, how are we going to get out of this? None of us have eaten in days. The water barrels need refilling, and the reservoir’s in earth pony territory. Our shield’s already weakening, and we’ve had six desertions since we started. We’ll starve to death! I can’t starve to death! I’ll die!”

“Relax, Captain Slate. We’re entering the final stage now. Ah, here we go.”

Despite the pounding and the yelling and the occasional crash of wood, she smiled. Flapping wings appeared beyond the dome. She heard Slate gasp, and then she lowered the highest arch of the dome, opening a hole for the dozen pegasi. Yoked onto half of them were carts, some bearing barrels, others hay bales and locked chests. Ponies crowded on one cart; as they descended, they waved towards the battlements.

“Pegasus ponies?” Slate gulped. “Oh no, not now.”

“They’re allies. It seems the King did persuade the commander, then. Captain, please rendezvous with the new arrivals. I could do with something to eat.”

Sighing gratefully, Slate galloped towards the far side of the battlements. Ah, poor Slate. Always the housekeeper, never the hero. But you will be one day. I guarantee it. I have faith in you.

Another crash of the shield caught her ear. Down below, the dust cleared while the purple shards vanished. Three buffalo and a dozen earth ponies poured through the hole.

She grinned. Well done, boys and girls. You’ve just tired yourself out for no reason at all.

“Shield down,” she yelled.

As one, the officers switched off their horns. All around the wooden fortress, the purple dome collapsed, became a falling curtain of sparkles, and then wiped itself out of existence. Most of the attackers rammed into and pounded against the timber, shaking the floor under her hooves, but some smarter ones at the back were staring at where the shield had been.

Captain Slate’s imperious barks – once more with the odd trrrrrrrrrrrrill – echoed over the thuds of hooves and the cracks of wood. Soon, the unicorn line munched and sipped from levitating cups. Pegasi zipped across the battlements, carrying bales or barrels.

Celestia’s mouth was sand-logged, but the offered hay brought the juices flowing among her teeth. She shivered at the rush of her glands along her jaw.

“Morning, Pansy,” she said. “Thank you for the relief.”

A mere nod from the pegasus was all she got. Vaguely, Celestia remembered the incident over the old commander’s early “retirement”. The poor dear. Never very close, but still devoted. She opened her mouth to say something comforting, but then shook herself down. No time for that now.

“Captain Slate!” Whether through nerves or newfound rage, Slate practically vibrated herself into place beside the ramparts. Celestia leaned down. “Take our pegasus friends down to get some weapons. I also want the reserve unicorn squad from the main hall. I think they’ve enjoyed their wait for long enough. Our diversion is going to take a much-needed rest. With luck, our brightest and most refreshed should be more than a match for them now.”

“RRRRRRight you are, ma’am!”

Along the line, every other unicorn collapsed or leaned against something, panting heavily or munching on more hay. Even the few that remained standing shone with sweat. Whenever a pegasus with a cup came too close, the unicorns summoned the drink so fast they almost poured it down themselves.

Truly a most dedicated team, she thought. Yet she couldn’t help noticing that she alone wasn’t breathing very hard. Am I holding back? Surely I would have given it my all? So why don’t I feel so drained?

The last few pegasi followed Slate down the steps. Far below, muffled shouts and cheers echoed. Despite herself, Celestia smiled. High spirits. Always a good sign.

Down below, the cracks and thuds stopped. Yells swept over them. By the time the officers peered over the edge, unicorn infantry had ploughed through the wall of earth ponies. Iron pikes and telekinetic glows swung left and right. Pegasi poured out like bees and dive-bombed the jostle. One buffalo fell onto its side. The rest charged, and then got lost in the piling confusion of bodies.

Still watching, Celestia threw another few sticks of hay into her mouth to chew.

Hooves scuffed the wood behind her. She didn’t worry. Most likely they were simply pegasi tired from all the flying.

Steel scratched against a scabbard.

What!?

Years of battlefield paranoia seized her head and swung it round. With a yelp, she kicked back and met hard flesh. The grunting earth pony crumpled to the floor, wincing. His sword clattered across the planks.

Behind him were six others, three clamping their teeth around sword hilts, two swinging flails into black blurs over their heads, and one with no weapons whatsoever. This mare was grinning.

But how!? The Lieutenant was supposed to intercept them!

“Intruders!” she yelled, and then looked left and right. Unicorn officers ignored her, still watching the fight below. One made the mistake of glancing her way, but hastily returned to the fight.

No… There’s no way they didn’t hear me! They can’t ignore me! Even with that scuffle –

Swords swung at once. Celestia yelped and hit the ramparts, the blur of the blades barely inches from her neck. She reared up, aimed her javelin horn, and rolled aside at once before the blades stabbed into the logs.

“For goodness’ sake!” Celestia grabbed the nearest unicorn, who whimpered and squirmed. “Intruders!”

The next officer spun round and fired a blast right into her face.

All was darkness, and stars. Her mind hummed with too many thoughts jumbled together, and she staggered and hit something with her croup. Frantically, she tried blinking the unnatural night from her eyes. Bits of her struggled to put sense together. There was a vague feeling of danger, but she couldn’t remember why. Something to do with unicorns… spells…

Blind panic seized her. Without thinking, she braced her forelegs and lashed out, met nothing, and stumbled sideways.

“Help!” she yelled. “Officer in need!”

She gritted her teeth. She willed her mind to calm.

The radiating chill of steel bit into her leg. Shrieking, she spun round. And then she remembered. That was then. This is now. It’s only a memory.

Whatever spell battered her senses, it faded. Coughing and spluttering, she almost toppled forwards and had to lurch to stop herself falling onto her muzzle. The ramparts, the desert blue sky, the shriek and thuds of battle returned.

She woke up in time to see the last earth pony collapse onto the floor. Behind the figure, Clover the Clever panted.

Clover’s horn dimmed. “Celestia!”

“What!?” Celestia blinked at her, still trying to see through the slight haze. “C-Clover?”

Behind the apprentice, the row of unicorn officers looked up from the ramparts and focused glares on the two of them. At once, the line crouched and aimed horns. Her mind chilled, even though it still had no idea why. The intruders had gotten inside, the unicorns were ignoring her, she’d been hit with something… Celestia shook slightly, trying to will the world to make sense.

“What –” she said.

“It’s the conspiracy!” Clover yelled, lowering herself to pounce, horn pointed beyond Celestia’s face. “You’re in terrible danger!”

Celestia opened her mouth for another question, but then jerked her head round. Behind her, the other row of officers charged up their horns.

Old instincts took over. Clover was here. Clover stood by her, facing the rearguard while Celestia turned back to the first line. Their necks crossed. Their horns sparked. Just like old times.

Still the officers waited; Clover was a mage, and that alone was enough to warrant caution. This time, Celestia was expecting an attack. Even the air shimmered under the strain of magic charging up on all sides.

The glares pinned her down. Celestia glared back.

Traitors… She breathed out, hardly daring to believe the evidence of all those glares. As though from the horizon, the faint cries and crashes of the ground battle surrounded them.

Shooting stars blasted out of a dozen horns at once.

Celestia saw the world flash around her, and the teleportation spell seared through her head like a burn. She gritted her teeth. Faint whiffs of toast stung her nostrils. When the colours resolved, she stood at the end of the ramparts, now behind the officers rapidly turning around to face her. Beyond them, the combined shooting stars of both sides collided. The rest of the battlements vanished behind a bright flare of white light.

No, Celestia thought. Her heart sank. You can’t be…

A second round shot for her.

Flames raged through her mind, and all the complications and confusions blackened and withered away. Without thinking, the spell leapt from her memory and shot through her forehead.

All shooting stars funnelled towards her horn. One-by-one, they splashed over it. She could feel the sheer heat coursing through her head. Even the rogue drops pooled along its length. She might have been impaled between the eyes by a piece of the sun.

Despite herself, she grinned. Maybe one in a thousand unicorns ever reached mage-like magical strength, but there were ways to compensate.

Celestia channelled the accumulated spells into the Dark Reflection Counterspell – the light dimmed to a black spike through the universe – and let it fly.

Unicorns screamed and howled and rolled across the battlements, banging against the ramparts or tumbling down the steps. Splashes of darkness smothered their faces and chests. The last one struggled onto his hooves, but then gave up against his own shaking. He hit the planks, his helmet rattling across to bounce down the steps.

Finally, the bright flare of white light faded away. Clover was surrounded by a purple bubble, against which the shooting star spells pounded away, cracking it. Celestia stepped forwards to gallop –

The bubble expanded so fast it almost exploded. More screams trailed over the edge to the distant clash. Celestia ducked hastily, preventing her own decapitation by flying unicorn, and then the dust of the bubble washed over her, leaving no feeling at all before they puffed out of existence.

They stood at either end, panting, shining with sweat, shaking under the sun as though it were a midwinter storm. Not a body moved among them, though the occasional groan at least proved no one had died.

Celestia gasped with shock. Inside her, the flames died away. Now the ashes of her thoughts settled as gently as snow on dead ground.

A flash later, Clover stood by her side. Her brow huddled under the wisps of smoke rising from her horn.

“It was all set up ahead of time,” she whispered; her own legs quivered as though about to give way. “Those earth ponies aren’t the rearguard attack. They were hired mercenaries. The whole thing was supposed to look like a tragic accident. A stealth assassination. They couldn’t dare attack you upfront.”

“Clover, for pity’s sake.” At once, Celestia shook her mane down. Why am I taking it out on her? “I apologize. I did not mean to be so curt. But I don’t understand. Who… I mean, why… I’ve fought alongside those officers for years. Their loyalty… their years of devotion…”

Movement caught her eye. Her head snapped up.

Galloping up the stairs and straight across to them, the lieutenant raised his black iron sword, his telekinetic spell crackling along his horn, and swung.

With a shriek from Clover, Celestia rammed her aside and forced another teleportation spell to burn her mind. It stabbed everything – her sight, her smell, her sound – and she barely had time to see the flash and the rear of the lieutenant before he swung round. Force of habit jumped to her legs. The blade swung between them, decapitating nothing but her shadow in the air.

They froze, limbs bent, gazes locked. There were no glares on either side.

“You too,” she sighed, “Lieutenant Lilt?”

He gave a slight nod, one warrior to another. No malice burned in his eyes. They had no shine at all.

Iron slashed at her. Clover fired a shot, but a twist of his spell later, the blade vibrated between him and the pulse of purple. It struck the dark metal and vanished.

Clever stallion…

Another slash, and she darted backwards. The Lieutenant had never bothered with any magic beyond simple telekinesis. Not when iron’s dead power had usually done the trick. A thrust, and she was backed up against the ramparts and rearing up. He moved like a tiger, his coat sliding over his bones one moment, his body a full roar of swipes and leaps the next.

Clover fired another shot. It bounced off his armour and arced down to the desert dunes. Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia saw the buffalo herd vanish under a dust cloud, and heard the pounding of hooves dying away.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lilt,” she said with utter honesty.

Then she ducked. Once more, the Lieutenant slashed, but as she rolled across her flanks and tucked-in limbs, the blade lunged and she felt the thump through the boards. Now she was crouched barely feet away from him.

“No!” she yelled to Clover, who skidded to a halt. “He’s mine.”

For the first time, a snarl of rage burst from the Lieutenant’s lungs. It shocked her; never had she seen him this angry, not in all the years they’d thrown themselves against earth ponies and pegasi. She watched his narrowing eyes. They waited.

Just to make sure, she sent a little magic up through her horn. His gaze flitted to it for a moment.

When he swiped at her muzzle, she leaned back barely inches. The instant it finished, she threw her entire weight forwards and clubbed her head across his face. The clatter of their horns and the bang of his sword on the planks told her everything.

The one capital rule of unicorn etiquette was to never twang another’s horn during a spell. Horns could so easily break, and they were as crucial as arms and legs to most nobles. Many a forward unicorn servant had learned this the hard – and often terminal – way.

For good measure, she spun round and bucked so hard that her knees popped. Sheer recoil threw her onto her chest. Several yards away, the body bounced and thudded.

Clover finally closed her gape. “Um… interesting earth pony tactic.”

Don’t pant. Don’t panic. Don’t do anything other than be cool and calm and collected. Celestia’s lungs threatened to burst in protest. Aches rushed back. No longer scared away, thoughts trickled back into her mind.

A conspiracy… I’d been expecting one sooner or later, but from the unicorns? How? Why? Even the Cloverites respect the traditional honour system. This kind of subterfuge is more pegasine and earth pony…

What on earth am I thinking? Be truly open and equal. Let unicorns scheme and plot too. Yet no matter how many times she repeated the mantra, doubt robbed it of any and all substance.

She stared at the Lieutenant, who struggled to his hooves. Bits of dark armour fell off of him, most of it shattered around his chest. In two strides, she was over him.

You traitor!

His yelp choked halfway through. His neck glowed yellow. She yanked him over her head until he had to bury his muzzle in his collar to glower at her.

“Who planned this?” she said. It wasn’t a growl. It was too restrained to be a growl. Yet inside her chest, the dragon stirred, and she almost felt the smoke billowing out of her mouth.

The Lieutenant said nothing.

“I’ve served the unicorn tribe since the day I was old enough to levitate a sword. We’ve healed each other’s wounds a dozen times over. I would have gone through Tartarus itself if I’d been ordered to do so. Who planned this?”

For all her effort, she got only a traditional, unicornian snort of contempt. Clover’s hoof rested on her shoulder.

“Very well.” She tightened her magical grip until he sighed, and then let go. He collapsed at her hooves.

Clover stared at her, eyes shining. The fight left her weary bones at the sight. Clover, there’s no need to fear me. I only do my duty. You must see me as your friend still.

More softly, she asked, “How did you know to find me?”

“Princess Platinum knew about the plot. She told me as soon as she could, and thank goodness she did! Had I been a mere second late, they would’ve confounded you entirely and killed you.”

Celestia staggered, all fight snatching away her strength as it drained away, and Clover rushed forwards. She felt the younger mare’s weight under her ribs, the warmth of her forelimb braced against her shoulders. Soothing her spirits, she felt the rub of Clover’s burlap hood along her neck where it caught her hairs.

Just like old times. Distant memories loomed out of her wearying mind, the crash and thunder of battle all around them. It didn’t matter which one. She’d always been the first to push her magic too far. And there, dragging her away from the craters in the grass and the crunch of shattered armour underfoot, Clover had always braced her limp form.

The memory shattered.

“How did Princess Platinum know about the plot?” she said suddenly.

Clover stiffened. It was only for a second. But it shouldn’t have happened at all.

Fear and fury stiffened her. She pushed off from her friend and rounded on her. Under her shadow, Clover’s lips clamped around themselves a second too late.

“How did she know, Clover?”

Clover opened her mouth, but only after biting her lip did she speak. “Look, you have to understand. Politics is a very complicated thing. And she never intended any actual harm.”

Celestia sighed. Against the hurricane collecting inside her mind, it was a mere wisp presaging the storm. “I will not be betrayed by you too, Clover. We are under oath never to lie to each other. We have each other’s word. How did Princess Platinum know there would be an ambush?”

“She… she knew about it because… because she knew about the order being given out… Please don’t take this the wrong way. I know you’re confused and angry, and I want to help. And so does she. I gave my word –”

Cheers rose up from the terrain far below. Galloping hooves died away. The sun began to fall across the reddening sky. Around them, the unicorn officers stirred.

Wood thudded as someone clambered up the steps. “Grrrreat news, Your Grrrrrrace! The enemy has been utterly rrrrrrouted!”

They heard her skid to a stop. Neither of them looked up, though Celestia noticed her outline in the corner of her eye.

“Um…” Captain Slate’s voice crouched as low as she did. “Did, did I miss something? Wh-What happened here?”

Clover lowered her head. So that’s it, is it?

“Captain Slate,” said Celestia, not looking away. “Kindly round up the unicorn officers and place them in the makeshift jails. I’m afraid there has been an… incident.”

They won’t talk to me. And it doesn’t matter if they report back to their boss that the mission was a failure; no political would dare touch a mage, not even an apprentice one. If they wanted me killed quietly, then they’ll also want the incident covered up as quietly as possible. They know there’s always the earth pony mercenaries. Who’d believe them after all?

“Um. An incident?” said Slate in a small voice.

“Yes.” And what evidence do I have, really? My word and Clover’s. Mage or no mage, she’s not supposed to meddle in political affairs. That’s the whole point of granting them carte blanche in magical power. Mutually balanced stability. We don’t want the ancient troubles back, not even if it means letting them go free.

Besides, Platinum won’t talk. Not if…

Still without looking up, Celestia added, “You should find some rope and chains inside the jail’s stockroom. If you’d be so kind, captain?”

Slate didn’t need telling twice; her hooves thudded down the steps and died away.

Celestia leaned closer. “Clover. I want the truth. You are her friend. I understand that. But you are not a liar, and I won’t tolerate a secret if it involves risking my life. So I won’t ask again. How. Did. Platinum. Know!?”

Below her, Clover’s lip struggled to hold back the words.

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Princess Platinum swept through the grand portal, head held high, silver crown gleaming on her elegant curls, and royal purple gown flowing over her slicked-down white body. A few wet hoofprints followed her. She was smelling of lavender, tinged with the sharp sting of bath salts.

Across the vast hall of a room, past rows of stained glass windows, past tapestries of rainbow colours and volcanic warm hues and wintry blueness, she strode onwards. Her four-poster bed bloomed with walls of velvet and quilts. Three of her mattresses poked out underneath. A sweep of her magic, and she nodded. No annoying peas this time.

She sat at her dressing table. Or, more accurately, she threw back the tails of her robe and eased her regal haunches onto the crimson cushion. Five reflections beamed back at her. While she patted powder onto her cheeks, she hummed some ancient ditty to herself. A sweet lullaby, one Clover had shared with her.

Then she froze. Her pointed eyebrows lowered like lances. In all five mirrors, the grand doors remained wide open.

They slammed shut. She spun round, and Celestia stepped out of the shadows.

“You!” she squeaked.

“Your Highness.” Celestia, pale as death, hairs still singed with the teleportation spells, did not stop walking slowly towards the princess. “We need to talk.”

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