A brief look into the life of the Legion's first hero through her faithful servant.
(Part of the Upheaval World)
My name is Steel Point, once the faithful apprentice and servant of Lady Ash Frost, First of the Heroes of the Legion.
She tasked me with recording her words, for posterity, confident as she was that they will hold great value to others in the future. I know full well the great songs and legends already being crafted to honor her memory. My meager praises will add nothing. I offer instead these few words from her, so that others may learn more than just her greatness.
Listen to me carefully, colt. I need quivers. That is what I expect you to be. You will follow me as best as you can in the battlefield and carry no less than four quivers for my arrows. I will gesture, then you will give me an arrow. Don't talk if I don't talk to you first. Don't try to attack our enemies. Leave such things to me. If you carry any weapon worth attacking our enemies with, you will have less room and strength to carry my arrows. I will allow you to carry a knife. That should be enough for utility purposes, fending off some predators, and killing yourself before you're captured.
I will pay you the standard salary for any apprentice; that is to provide you with food, shelter, and training. Of course, you will not be a standard apprentice, you will be mine. I intend to go through the most dangerous situations possible and come out triumphant. How well you fare will be up to you albeit with some protection from me. The pay shall be worth it. In addition to learning just by being near me and improving greatly by your struggling to keep up, you will bask in my glory. What fraction of it rubs off on you will propel you to your own heights of greatness as one would expect.
You will have another duty as well. I want you to record my words. I know quite well that in the throes of doing something amazing, I spontaneously say something inspiring and wise. I can't count the number of times this has happened. You will carry notes with you and always be ready to record what I say. Equestria will be sure to thank you for preserving such treasures.
What was your name again? Wood Grain? That's garbage. Hardly a heroic name fit to appear next to mine when I am recorded. I will call you Steel Point. Much better.
Lady Ash Frost was just recently accepted to the Southern Legion Ranger Corps at this time. My dear parents were highly skeptical of her and feared that I would die as a result of her antics. She had developed a reputation, after all, for a great deal of boasting, brash sorties, and dangerous gambles. I am proud to say that I took the risk and accepted the offer of apprenticeship. The years I spent with Lady Ash Frost proved the most important of my life.
Yes, Cloud Nest, I do have a problem with my damn salary. No, it's not too low. It's boring. My salary is too damn boring. How am I supposed to be motivated with this kind of static pay? I already am the best ranger the Southern Legion has ever known. Standing at the very top of a mountain isn't exhilirating if there's no sheer drop to my death nearby. I think a legionnaire of my unique prowess deserves an equally unique payment scheme.
Here's what I propose. You will pay me one thousand bits for every ophidite officer I kill in a skirmish. Ah, ah! Wait. For every ophidite officer that escapes, I'll pay back ten thousand bits. Doesn't that sound much more exciting? Certainly, it would get me up every morning. You may try to hinder me if you want.
No, I'm not joking around. The only joke here will be you if you're too afraid to take me on.
This secret arrangement between Lady Ash Frost and Outpost Commander Cloud Nest eventually came to light when the Southern Legion discovered a massive drain on its coffers centered around that outpost. Lady Ash Frost was killing too many ophidite officers and the extremely rare escapes did not make up for her pace. Both Lady Ash Frost and Cloud Nest were given thirty lashes for their gambling. Cloud Nest was also removed as Outpost Commander. Lady Ash Frost always maintained that it was worth it.
Arrogant, is it? Is that what they call me? Deluded fools, the lot of them.
Arrogance is a matter of situation. Suppose there was a poor stallion with two bits to his name. If he were to give a bit to a pony poorer than him, he would be lauded for his generosity. Yet, if a rich pony gave a bit to the same poor pony, he would be derided as a miser. Now, if a pony with deeds no different from the average legionnaire says the things I do, then, yes, he would be arrogant. If a pony of my deeds says the same, they should be lauded for their humility, as I should be. Besides, I speak as I do out of a sense of balance. If I stay silent, rocks and grass will spontaneously gain voices to praise me.
So I will not take back a word I said. They can try to make me eat my words in every competition I plan to dominate. I hope they do. These trophies and money are getting boring. I am the legendary Ash Frost, the Peerless Shot, the Bow of Wonder, the Bow to be Feared, the True Shot Champion, and the First of the Legion's Heroes. I've put enough shafts into bullseyes to construct the broad side of the barn that half my competition can't hit. My flying makes butterflies look like flying boars and you stand a better chance flying out of a storm dry than you do dodging my shot. When they speak my name in Ophidus, the children fall silent, the widows weep into their pillows, and their generals rage and quake. Indeed, my accolades are outpacing my ability to boast about them. I might have to hire some bards.
It is true that the many titles attributed to Lady Ash Frost were coined by herself, but their widespread use even during her lifetime proves them all true. Lady Ash Frost won the annual Highstable Archery Contest thirty consecutive times along many other lesser tournaments and personal challenges. I attended to her in many of them, always expecting that moment of humiliation when the crowd would laugh at her for not living up to her boasts. It never came. How I wish now that it did.
Let us skip the introductions. I wouldn't come here if I didn't know who you were, and you would have to be born a minute ago if you don't know who I am.
To the point.
As it behooves every legionnaire, prudence tasks me with seeing to an heir to carry on my duties. Your son, Moon Rage, is pleasing to the eye, perfectly healthy, of a well-to-do family, and has a career in the Legion almost as illustrious as mine. I wish to arrange a marriage between him and myself. I may not come from a wealthy family, but my personal wealth is of no little consequence. I am also the greatest archer the Legion has ever produced. Surely, foals born of our union will be great boons to Equestria.
No, I don't care if he is obssessed with magic and working for the Western Legion. I do not need his attention, I need his seed. Procreation is as much his duty as blowing up ursans, and I am offering him the chance to excel in that duty. I am quite confident in my mothering ability so, if he fails as a father, I can make up for his slack.
No, I meant no offense against your son, Sir, I am merely trying to be reassuring. I see Moon Rage as the best stallion in Equestria as of the moment, falling only behind our Prince. I refuse to settle for anypony less.
Yes, I will meet him on these dates.
Lady Ash Frost and Lord Moon Rage were married two weeks after that initial arrangement. Theirs was a surprisingly affectionate marriage, all things considered. Lord Moon Rage showed a remarkable degree of restraint and self-confidence, and did not wilt despite Lady Ash Frost's frequent taunts and boasts. I suspect that he was able to do so thanks to his extreme focus on his work. He was rarely in their manor even after Longstride was born, though he did make a genuine effort to bond with his wife and child. What happened to him after the whole terrible incident, I see as clear proof of his remorse.
Look at my foal, Steel Point. Is he not the best-looking foal you've ever seen? How bright and intelligent his eyes are! How firm and strong his grip! How sturdy and large his wings! By the pinions of our Prince, I have surpassed my own mother in foaling. I did not think it was possible. He has my eyes, as you can plainly see. Yes, Moon Rage also has blue eyes, but these are frosty like mine, not midnight like his. These are an archer's eyes. They see details on the farthest targets, notice the smallest weakness, and recognize the briefest opportunity.
Look how firm these forelegs are. Imagine the size of the bow they will grasp one day and the pull weight of the string they will stretch. His shots will penetrate dragonscale as easily as wet paper. Why, every mare in his presence will soak themselves when his withers flex, then slay each other for his affections. Oh, did you see those ears perk? He does that at the slightest unfamiliar sound. No ambush will ever take my colt.
He is such a blessing, my little Longstride. When I married Moon Rage, I thought foaling was just another task to excel at, but this colt fills me with such giddy joy. No other task completed has ever satisfied me like this has.
What does an archer see that others cannot? They must see more to make such marvelous shots no matter the stress of battle. And, surely, the greatest of Equestria's archers must see even more. All I saw in Longstride was a healthy, albeit a little shy, foal. He cooed at the attention, cried when he needed his mother's milk, and slept the hours away. Lady Ash Frost saw more, but where did the greatest archer's expertise begin and a mother's blindness end?
I will say that Longstride's birth did have a profound effect. Lady Ash Frost softened her naturally harsh personality just a bit. For a little while. She took more joy bringing up her colt than she did reminding every pony of her greatness. For those earliest years of his life, I believe she was at her most content. A pity the poor colt had to grow up.
Hah! Did you see that, you doddering mares? A perfect bullseye!
Excellent shot, Longstride, I'm so proud of you!
Has any contestant ever shot so well in a junior competition? Impossible! My son smashes records as easily as I do. Indeed, even easier. I did not have a teacher such as myself to guide me in my early days. Hear me, Equestria, I'm declaring it now! My son, Longstride, will rise to heights even I cannot. Tune your lutes and sharpen your tongues, you bards, you may as well start composing your songs now!
I will take your money now, you gullible buffoons. What were you thinking when you bet against the son of Ash Frost? Were thoughts involved at all? Yes, I will take every last bit you dared to put up against Longstride. When your dinners prove lacking due to your spending tonight, know that your stomachs rumble in praise of my son.
Come along, Longstride, your father needs to be informed of this achievement. For now, this trophy shall stand with all of mine, but I shall have construction of your own wing done as soon as possible.
Young Longstride developed an interest in archery at a very early age. How much of it was from his mother's prodding, I could not tell back then, nor now. He did show great talent, a sign that Lady Ash Frost may have been right all along. It was a pity in its own way. Seeing her son excel in archery awakened Lady Ash Frost's competitive nature. His victories were hers, even more so in fact. She made sure her boasts were heard far and wide to reach every competitor that might challenge her son.
You incompetent, moronic, insipid wretches! Six of you to watch over my son and the ophidites take him away! How dare you remain alive after this crime! Did not a single one of you even think to give her life for the future of Equestria? My son...my poor colt at the mercy of those snakes...
Steel Point, don your quivers. We will hunt these filth down. One by one I shall strike them down until my son is returned. Ophidus will suffer for this. I swear it by every power known to Equestria. They will suffer from me more for this than they have for all my years fighting them.
As for the lot of you, send a message to Moon Rage. Tell him of the horror that you have allowed to take place here. I will find my son. If I find even one wound on him, the lot of you will die. Your parents too for daring to bring you incompetents to this world.
The Legion eventually discovered that the band of ophidites and indoctrinated ponies that kidnapped young Longstride were sent by Ophidus's High Council of Coatls. That is how far and how deep the fear of Lady Ash Frost had spread within the Empire.
They raced from Lady Ash Frost's manor in the southern reaches of the Western Barrier Land to Ophidus, desperately trying to bring Longstride in for indoctrination. They had likely hoped to utilize a great archer against Equestria. We hunted them down every step of that journey. Captured ophidites confessed to the plan after Lady Ash Frost became violent. That was a dark journey through and through. A great storm was blowing through the west at the time. Lady Ash Frost and I flew through vicious gales and peals of rain, vainly clinging to the hope of saving her son.
No...no! Longstride! My son, stay with me! Open your eyes! Please!
You alicorns of the Eternal Herd, stewards of our dead, spare my colt! He has done nothing to deserve this! Take his foolish mother instead!
Longstride...Longstride, my son. Why didn't I die in your place? Did not my words bring this to pass? Did not my arrows sting them to act?
Away from me, Steel Point! All your years of loyal service for what? To fail my son in his time of need? Out of my sight or my arrows will find you as surely as they will find every vile scum involved in this treachery. Go to my manor and warn them if you must. Let them run. The fear and despair of the chase will make them suffer before I pass my judgment on their service. Go now, I end your service to me this instant!
That terrible night out in the storm was the last time I ever saw Lady Ash Frost. The first time I saw her tears and the first time I saw all her weapons fail her. Her ranger training let her track them through the mud and rocks. Her eyes pointed them out in the dark and rain. Her greatbow, the True Frost Shot fired as true as ever before. Her frost-laced arrows left them as blackened, frostbitten corpses. But the last of these vile snakes realized that he would not be able to spirit Longstride away to Ophidus. With the same knife he likely cut herbs with, he dealt the cruelest blow the Empire could manage against Lady Ash Frost.
I fled to the manor, prepared to plead for her maidservants. Yet, she never returned. It took days until I recieved word of her fateful raid on the Imperial Capital, and the shot that supposedly grazed the Emperor himself. Only a week later, Lord Moon Rage destroyed himself, his array team, and a contingent of ursans in a terrible battle to the west.
I lay these words now, on the tomb built in Lady Ash Frost's honor. She had asked me to record what pearls of wisdom she might spotaneously say during her exploits, but know that what wisdom is to be gleaned from her life comes not from her declarations, but her fate. Lady Ash Frost provoked all around her in hopes of improving with each contest. She was ready for the humiliation of being proven wrong, ready to console herself by knowing how strong the Legion was with so many warriors even better than her. I pray that no more of our noble legionnaires come upon the realization that she had in those final moments. That the only thing worse than being punished for your pride is to watch another suffer for it instead.