//------------------------------// // Chapter Fifty-five // Story: Under The Northern Lights // by CoastalSarv //------------------------------// The day was less gray, the wind was less wild, but there was a faint sense of terror in the air, as if this was just something holding back. Two of the volunteer pegasi landed on the wall blocking north of Sarvvik from the wilds. Specifically, in front of princess Celestia, who together with Ukko was inspecting the wall. The pegasi saluted. “Your Highness,” one of them said, “the storm is coming, like the reindeer said. It’s barely an hour away. It’s… it’s like nothing I’ve seen before! It’s… it’s much darker than it should be! There shouldn’t be enough moisture about when the weather’s like this… Of course, this is uncontrolled weather, but…” “It looks like it’s out to get ya!” said the other pegasus. “You think it’s screaming at ya, when ya hear it!” King Ukko looked a bit annoyed at the winged ponies. “It’s because it is!” he barked. “It’s full of ill-weather spirits who want you to freeze to death or crash to your death or get smashed to death under a falling fir! They want your corpse to eat and play with!” The pegasi looked nervous. “No weather is ever controlled in Poatsula,” said Celestia gently. “At least not by ungulates. While King Ukko is right, hraesvalg aren’t the wind - they live in the wind, ride it and control it. Like you do. If we can break the wind with our magic and scare the hraesvalg, they will shatter and the storm ebb out.” “So, are you ready?” said Ukko and looked at the pegasus. They looked at each other, and nodded. “Yes, Your High - “ he corrected himself and looked at the King instead of his Princess. “Your Majesty. Every pegasus who can fly will try to tame the wind. But I’ll tell you, we’re too few…” “You’ll do,” said Ukko undiplomatically. “You’ll have to. Got your witches ready, Celestia?” “Oh yes,” said Celestia, “every unicorn and reindeer spirit-talker who knows a bit of wind or weather magic is ready to fight the wind, everyone who can toss a magic attack are there to hurt the spirits, and everyone who cannot do either is shouting encouragement. And there’s even some more foreign volunteers who know a bit of magic.” Ukko nodded. “Whatever good it’ll do. This is actually the least dangerous part… it’ll be worse when the nidhoggs arrive.” “Good,” said Celestia. “I think every civilian or common soldier has hidden in basements or ditches already…” Ukko looked up and nodded his head towards the stairs to his left. “Speaking of foreign sorcerers…” The zebra who trotted up the stairs carefully was swathed in a long yellow scarf and two gray blankets, with a red cap on top of his head. “Paki Saada,” said Celestia, “how nice to meet you.” “Your Highness - “ he bowed to the alicorn - “Your Majesty - “ he bowed to the reindeer - “not all the magic-workers wanted my amulets, and Lady Sparkle suggested I brought them to you.” He brought some dangling necklaces of amber from under his blankets. “What do those do?” said Ukko suspiciously. “They make spirits unable to posses you,” said the zebra. “They also make it hard for a spirit to pass through you at all, and you might even be able to grab them.” “Hraesvalg only possess the dead,” Ukko murmured. “Yes, Your Majesty, I know,” said Paki, “but me and Lady Sparkle thought each zombie less is a good thing.” Ukko raised an eyebrow, then wordlessly grabbed one of the necklaces. “I hope you’re not planning on dying, Ukko,” said Celestia. “You can never plan the future,” said Ukko. “Get your people, and I’ll get mine!” Ahto and his deer were skiing fast, but not as fast as the Night Guard wanted. “Your… grace,” their leader tried, not being certain what a jarl was on the noble scale, “you need to hurry!” He had swept down and was hovering above the reindeer as he steadily tromped on over the snow. “Those storm-demon-things are coming closer and closer!” “How close?!” barked Ahto. “Only miles away,” said the batpony, “and a mighty wind is with them.” “Right,” said Ahto and stopped. “EVERYBODY HALT!” he shouted, and the shout carried on between the reindeer soldiers and sailors. “What!” said the pony. “No, you must run faster!” “They ride the wind, darkling!” snapped Ahto. “No one can outrun it on skis in a forest, not even me!” He ripped off his skis. “EVERYBODY SEEK SHELTER!” he shouted. “I kept the speed down so everyone could make it to Sarvvik with breath to fight,” he continued as his soldiers started to follow his orders. “You can either bivouac with us, or fly above the wind and dodge them.” “But…” said the pony, his fellow guards hovering nervously around him. “There won’t be a tree left between here and Sarvvik,” said Ahto. “Unless you can ride the wind or outfly it, get below the snow or above the clouds. Now!” With a second of hesitation, the batpony snapped: “OK!” Then, he and his squad rushed up and away. The reindeer methodically dug down. “No way to avoid the trees,” Ahto told the nearest soldiers. “Let’s just avoid being swept away completely - if possible.” Princess Luna stood at the bow of The Crimson Kraken, her wings spread, her horn crackling with energy, one forehoof weighing down on the base of the bowsprite like a foal on her skateboard. A steady wind blew into the ship’s sails, and a net of telekinetic force lifted it, seeming to give it extra buoyancy. The ship skipped over the waves faster than an Equestrian steam frigate at full steam. The evacuees had all hankered down below decks, as had most of the crew. The few pirates who had stayed above to do what work was needed on the rigging - under threat of being thrown overboard - where barely hanging on. Jorge the Peryton was at the wheel under protest. He had magic means to anchor himself, the first mate had argued, and Jorge hadn’t been able to deny it. A web of shadows fettered him to the mizzenmast and the planks of the poopdeck. He was beginning to tire. Gerda the griffon climbed down the mainmast, flying being out of the question. Claw and paw she crawled over the deck to Jorge. “ARE YOU HOLDING ON!” she shouted. The winds were too loud for any normal conversation. “I HATE THIS WEATHER! I HATE THIS COUNTRY! I HATE THE CAPTAIN AND HER DAFT IDEAS ABOUT HELPING REINDEER NOBLES!” “WHAT?!” He repeated his diatribe. “BUT YOU’RE HOLDING ON?” “SO FAR!” She crawled up to him, grabbed his shadow-web with her back paws and the wheel with her front claws. “HELMSSTAG NEEDS HELP! COME ON, YOU FOLKS!” A zebra mare laboriously walked up deck, grabbing lines and rails now and then for support. “AY AY!” she shouted. “YOU GOING SOFT?!” he shouted to Gerda. “IF YOU LOSE IT, PONY PRINCESS GONNA RUN US ALL ASHORE!” “YEAH!” he shouted. And then: “THANKS!” Princess Luna stood at the bow of The Crimson Kraken, her wings spread, her horn crackling with energy, one forehoof weighing down on the base of the bowsprite like a foal on her skateboard. Sweat poured down her brow and her flanks. The hraesvalg came, screaming. Cowards alone, they had reached a never-before seen bravery in a huge cloud of spirits, and they drove the wind in front of them, creating a terrifying blizzard. The snow rose and fell, whipped over the landscape. Trees were cast down and aside, and those that stood the onslaught had their limbs ripped off and tossed about. The few beasts and birds that hadn’t already dug as deep into the snow or frozen earth as possible were also tossed about. Luckily there weren’t many. Even the forest spirits were hiding in fear. Something drove the carrion eaters on, not just their miserable hunger, but an urgency, tinted with hatred they didn’t recognize, a strange feeling that they needed to thrust themselves at the odd collection of flesh-folk living in one big place. Screaming, they rode the wind as it hit Sarvvik… but then they hit the defences. Scores of spirit-talkers, lead by Galderhorn, chanted and screamed into the wind, and their words become Real to the spirits. It wasn’t exactly like flying into a wall, but as Galderhorn had explained it to Twilight, it was like running over a field and suddenly realizing there was a big thick bush full of thorns right in front of you, and you couldn’t stop and ran through it, the thorns scratching you and the branches whipping you and the roots tripping your hooves. The cloud didn’t halt, but it severely lost momentum. The wind didn’t. It blew over and through the battlements, tossing about the less secured defences, until it hit another wall of wind. Every single pegasi - royal guards, volunteers from Equestria, sailors from the harbour - had worked to summon a counter-storm of sorts. Right in the middle flew Celestia, and shouted words of encouragement into their ears, shining like the sun. Their wind seemed to blow upwards, bringing the carrion wind with it, causing it to rip even harder at the battlements, tearing down walls and palisades, but changing path and sparing Sarvvik proper its full force. There were fewer unicorns than pegasi, but everyone they had gathered was there, getting out of shelter, accompanied by some of the spirit talkers. Twilight had been rolled there in her wheelchair against Spike’s protests, but they were lead by a unicorn guard named Dawn Flames. Not all unicorns are true sorcerers, but all had some training. In addition, creating telekinetic force is a basic skill. Under Dawn’s Command, and guided by reindeer spotters, they simply shot off spikes of horn-force into the most compact groups of hraesvalgs. Non-pony mages followed up with the strongest spells they knew. The magic power was as real to the spirits as it would have been to a pony. Not that many were often hit, but some of those who were, were smashed to smithereens. In any case, you need not be hit by a bullet to flee machine gun fire. The urge to attack was becoming too weak compared to the fear and pain, joining into panic. The hraesvalgs started to flee, streaming upwards, letting go of the wind completely. Many flapped to the ground, wailing, where they were chased by shouting reindeer emerging from shelter. Skiold, equipped with one of Paka’s necklaces,  grabbed one with his mouth and bit it, tossed another one with his horns, and kicked a third one rhythmically. “Welcome to Sarvvik!” he shouted. “NOW LEAVE!” It was just a few of the huge crowd of spirits, but the people who had been hiding and silently prayed for the magic-using defenders crept out of their shelters and cheered. Hraesvalg prey on the weak; cheer is a bad sign for them. They lost all morale, and fled as fast as they could, suddenly tired as the urgency left them. The cheer that went up only lasted a short while. Neither Ukko nor Celestia needed to bark orders to get any wounded out of the way, any exhausted mages back down in shelter so they could rest, and everyone out and start rebuilding those palisades and defenses which had been broken. Ukko barked orders anyway, but his followers were used to that. “We did it!” shouted Spike, who rushed out to Twilight’s wheelchair. “I mean, you did it!” “Everyone helped, who could,” said Twilight. “But this is only the start… I wonder if we can keep going…” “You should rest as soon as possible,” said Celestia who landed, followed by pegasi. “I know I should tell you that you shouldn’t have been here, but it would have been useless.” “I didn’t come to Tarandroland to let others go off and do all the work,” said Twilight. She saw Galderhorn trotting up to them, followed by some younger spirit-talkers. The old stag was sad to the point of crying. “What’s the matter?” said Twilight. “Was somedeer hurt in the battle?” “Many,” said Galderhorn. “I don’t relish harming or slaying any spirit. For anyone with the Sight, the skies are full of hurt and death.” “Them or us!” said Spike. “I haven’t said it was the wrong choice,” said Galderhorn, “just that I dislike it. And for a spirit-talker, it’s hard to work magic when you feel your heart sink.” “Gathering all the monsters to one place to slaughter them just makes the practical matter of the slaughtering easier, not the moral matter,” said Celestia. “I understand how you feel.” “I’ll go talk to my grandchildren,” said Galderhorn, “before any more fighting.” “In… in case you don’t make it back?” Twilight said quietly. “To convince myself I need to keep killing,” said Galderhorn and smiled. He left, his legs shaking. “He reminds me of somepony,” said Twilight. She sighed. “I wish so much I could just, you know, go home!” “We could arrange a teleport,” said Celestia. “You’re currently in a wheelchair, and Spike is a minor. You don’t have to be here.” “I said I won’t let others do all the work,” said Twilight. “It’s just that this business in Tarandroland wearies me - it has taken such a long time and meant a lot of work and it feels like it’s never ending.” “It’ll soon be over,” said Celestia. “One way or another.” Ahto rose out of the snow, shook himself. Right in front of his nose lay a great pine, uprooted by the ghost-gale. He swallowed. He steadied his legs and shouted to his deer. One after one, the soldiers around him got up, shouted as well. Hakon was one of them. “The Nidhoggs will be next,” he said. “I know,” said Ahto, quietly. Then he shouted to the deer that they should look first to themselves, then see if any neighbours were wounded and treat their wounds. “We have a day or so in advance, but we cannot fight them in the field,” said Hakon. “I know,” said Ahto. “And we cannot carry any wounded,” he said. “I kno... - yes we can!” said Ahto. “They will slow us down!” said Hakon. “Then we take another path,” Ahto said. “We go east, towards the mountains, instead of south. The Nidhoggs… they will go straight for Sarvvik. We’ll have to fight any strays, but that… that we can manage. We’re reindeer!” “Are you… running away?” said Hakon. “No, I’m just…” Ahto’s voice rose, then suddenly seemed to calm down. “I’m actually making a flanking maneuver. We’ll drop off the badly wounded, let the lightly wounded who’d just slow us down watch them, and every hale warrior falls the monsters in the left flank!” “I see,” said Hakon. “What about… what about if there are any dead?” Ahto shrugged, then shouted further orders to his warriors. “IF YOU FIND ANY FALLEN WARRIOR, CUT OFF HIS FRONT LEGS!” Hakon gaped. “I’m sure there’s corpse-eaters around. Not going to give them the pleasure of stealing my deers’ flesh!” Ahto said. The Crimson Kraken danced over the waves. Princess Luna still stood at the bowsprite, and she still buzzed with power, but she was not as strained. She also didn’t stare in front of her in the same way. She did, in fact, lower her gaze when Mr Moccus came trotting up to her. “Cup of coffee, your highness?” said the little hog. He held a small grimy thermos in his left wing, pegasus style. “I don’t mind if I do, acting-captain Moccus,” said Luna and sniffed the sea air. He gingerly unscrewed the jug-tip of the thermos and filled it up. Luna grabbed it telekinetically and raised it to her lips, then withdrew it. “Coffee with vodka?” she said “The reindeer have some pleasurable customs, your highness,” said Mr Moccus. “Is it not to your liking?” “No, it is okay,” said Luna and sipped. “So,” said Mr Moccus, “ we rode out the storm… somehow…” “Well, obviously,” said Luna and emptied her cup, then levitated it down to him. “So what comes next?” he said as he re-filled it. “I assume that wasn’t it. Life isn’t that easy.” “Well, for you and everyone else aboard this ship it will be the turso,” said Luna, “but I cannot tell how fast they will be. They swim as fast as a ship, but only for a short while, and not as fast as a ship borne by a gale. You’ll probably get back to Sarvvik in time. I’ll try to catch up with you.” “Where are you going, your highness?” said Moccus. There was a sudden fear in his voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you,” she said and gave him the cup. “Alas, I need to confer with allies, regarding the tursos and their doings, and I can… smell from the sea it is time.” “What allies?” he said. “The Equestrian fleet?” “They are kin of a sorts to the reindeer,” Luna said with a wry smile. “They live in the sea.” “What?” said Mr Moccus. “I’m talking about the seaponies and mermares,” Luna said. “I’ve received word by the seawinds the troops promised by our cousin King Leo are near. I will talk to them, as I said, about the turso. Take care of the ship.“ “Yes, your majesty!” Moccus shouted as Luna lifted into the air and quickly flew out over the dark sea. “Of course I will, you daft old mare,” he scoffed. “It’s MY ship, and just because it’s lost its latest captain doesn’t mean I don’t care! I care more than anything in the world!” He downed the last of the kask and trotted away to the helmsbeing to keep an eye on things. “Exactly how do you get lingonberry juice here, Heikko?” said Skiold. “Well, first you pick a bushel of lingonberries,” said Heikko. “Then, you clean the berries. Then you mash them with honey, preferably in a clay pot with an alderwood pestle…” “Very funny,” said Skiold. “I meant… hey, look up there” They were sitting in a lookout tower that was placed in the middle of the zone of traps, obstacles and mines that was the first defence against the enemy. It had been a misreading of the blueprints, and the builders had, after a short bit of panicking, turned it into a firetrap, filled with oil barrels, scraps of wood, and what looked like heaps of fireworks. Presumably, the tower would catch fire explosively and fall in the general direction of the enemy. Skiold and Heikko found it a perfectly usable lookout tower, and didn’t really get the fuss. Since they technically were the heads of the army and navy, they thought they deserved a good view of the war. The pony engineers had expressed concerns of them trotting over the no-hoofs-land, while the reindeer working on it had just shrugged. They knew the two old warriors. “It’s a vinghest!” said Skiold, pointing his hoof at the single speck of black flapping slowly and erratically towards them. “Probably a scout!” “Maybe it’s spotted the trolls!” said Heikko. “It’s coming from northwest, and Twilight Sparkle promised they were on the way.” Skiold looked at it. “No, “ he said, “something dangerous is coming. Soon. I can See it.” The black speck was flying over a large area where every tree had been cut down and dragged to the barricade to use as building material, and every building had been torn down and treated the same way. “Do they usually have bat wings?” said Heikko. “Isn’t they more like a seagull, usually?” He dropped his bottle. Suddenly the black speck started spiraling to the ground, like a falling leaf, and right at that second did Skiold take a mighty leap from the tower and landed in one of the few safe spots of snow. Heikko came after, but between starting a second after, and being much bigger, Skiold pulled away from him. When Heikko reached the spot where the speck fell, Skiold was already poking it carefully. “So that’s the danger you saw!” Heikko said, panting. “Is it okay?” “She’s breathing and hasn’t broken anything, but I don’t know about her wings,” said Skiold and poked the mare again. “Hey! Are you okay?” The bat-winged pony gasped and started to rise. “Careful there, warrior!” said Heikko. He and Skiold gave her a hoof and she stood up. “Are your wings alright?” said Skiold. “Didn’t break anything?” “Just so tired,” she said and shook herself. “Want some juice?” said Heikko and produced a second bottle from wherever he kept his kit. “No no,” said the bat-winged mare. “I need to make a report to one of the Princesses ASAP!” “Does a King suffice?” said Skiold. “I’ve no idea where Skinfaxi is and Hrimfaxi is still out at sea.” “Your King… yeah, he’ll want to hear this anyway,” she said and leapt into the air. Just to fall down again. “Let’s just walk instead,” said Skiold. “We’ll get you to Ukko.” “Yeah, just walk around the obstacles, they’re built for nidhoggs,” said Heikko. “What’s the news?” “The nidhogg!” she said as she trotted over the snow beside them. “They’re coming! It’s a whole horde of ice-wyrms! Luckily they spend so much time ripping fallen trees apart and fighting with each other they’re much slower than they could be.” “A whole horde?!” said Skiold. “Yeah, hundreds and hundreds!” she said. “They’re laying waste to the whole country north of here, like they cannot wait to fight!” The Moon-Guard would tell that anecdote more often than many others, when she told her grandkids about her experiences in the Tarandrian War. “And then, she’d say, “the two of them jumped into the air, whooped with joy, and hoof-bumped!”