In Bello Praesidium

by Jean De Basse - Woolie

Chapter Six: Ilia Militis

Sardonyx was not one to regret decisions. Usually, that is.

Now though, in the mist of the morning dew staining the bottom of his crutch and wetting his hooves, he was reconsidering some choice aspects of the last day. For starters, he should've killed that Black Vogel when he had the chance. He wouldn't make that same mistake again, she was too indoctrinated, her mind poisoned by the hierarchy she served, and there would be no reasoning with her.

Secondly, a more refined approach would have to be taken. He'd been too loud, too brutal, too big! The glory and freedom he'd bring would have to dance in the shadows for a time, he'd immediately tried sprinting his way through a marathon, and now he was paying the price for it. Fido was right, he was too eager when the humans came...too cocky, too coy...and Fido paid for his mistakes with his life.

Fido.

Fido was gone, but he was true to his word. His band helped him escape. They'd delayed the Vogel and the humans. It was bitter medicine to swallow, but it was somewhat inspiring: even his death served a purpose. After seeing their friend go down, everypony fought as hard as they could.

Sardonyx hoped that his death would one day have such meaning.

Hobbling against his crutch, he trotted towards the small encampment in the heart of the chaotic jungle. The stench of the swamp stung his snout as his leg was caught in a puddle of mud. Shuddering against the cold grasping around his hoof, he yanked it out and offered a nod to the sentry waiting at the makeshift camp's entrance.

"We're heading in the right direction, and we'll move out in the morning. Pardon my manners, but I do not believe I've had the pleasure of earning your name?"

Cocking her head back, the crudely armored mare broke into a light chuckle. She had a simple orange coat, with a white mane peeking out from beneath a T-shaped visor, and her snout was decorated with similarly colored splotches. Wiggling her brow, she tapped his shoulder with her hoof as she spoke; "After getting us out of that mess in the Everfree and that whole clusterfluff back there, you've earned it. Name's Golden Dough, but you can just call me 'Goldie.' It's what everyone calls me anyway."

Sardonyx wore a slight grin. The mare's dented armor plating, bladed hooves, halberd, and scarring around her snout deterred him from using the nickname without permission. Shaking his head, he turned it to the side as he shuffled around her, "I recognize the name, one of Fido's best sergeants if I recall. He spoke quite highly of you, a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"Flatterer," said Golden with a low hum, the mare leaned against her halberd as she slumped her shoulders. Dipping her head down, the confident mare almost seemed hesitant to say anything else. She strained against something, a pain of some kind sat on the edge of her tongue. Noticing a rather significant dent in her armor, Sardonyx found himself talking before he could finish the thought.

"You survived one of their weapons?"

Grunting hoarsely, she pulled herself up and tapped her chest with her hoof. Putting on a broad smile, she spoke with enough pride to hide the injury, "Yup! Hit like someone bucked me instead of the tree. I ended up being launched off the wall, twisted my leg and got a few broken ribs. By the time I picked myself up, they were already coming over the walls...saw you being taken down to catacombs, so I followed."

"You should be called 'Lucky' instead of 'Goldie' you know, Miss Dough. Drop your chest-plate and let me take a look at what you've got," Said Sardonyx as he tapped her helmet with his hoof and a wink.

Blushing fiercely, the mare scrunched up her snout as the scars around it twisted into a new maze of injury. She almost seemed intent to slap him into the nearest tree before she caught herself, "I'm sorry, didn't figure you're familiar with healing magic."

"I'm no Doctor Bones mind you...I can reduce the swelling and set the ribs...but I can't fix them instantly. Did anyone see what happened to him? I wouldn't mind him lending me a hoof," said Sardonyx as her chest piece clattered to the ground, the stallion waving his stump in jest. His horn was glowing as he knelt down to the shorter mare to rest its tip against the visible swelling of her chest.

"One of the mages that managed to teleport some guys here saw him being taken prisoner with the wounded in the courtyard. We'll see him and the others again eventually. After the fight we gave those monsters, they'll need any help they can get patching themselves up."

"One can only hope. If we're lucky, lucky as you are, those beasts die on that mountain and our allies escape to us. Tell me, Miss Dough; I didn't expect anyone to stay once we arrived. None of you have departed for a more profitable venture even after our numerous...shortcomings. Is there something I'm missing? Or perhaps running from a constant stream of authorities is just exciting?" asked Sardonyx with a joking tone as he managed to charm the swelling into a small bruise. Setting to work on the ribs, he focused so much on sensing the fractures he hardly heard the mare speak.

"Some of us, Mister Sardonyx, might actually believe in your cause if that's so hard to comprehend. Fido took us in because we were the best, but we stayed together because we were all exiles. A coin is nice, but you promise us a future in a world of our making. No gods, no masters...I'm willing to do anything for that. Fido gave us freedom, sure, but we never had a future."

Blinking a bit, Sardonyx had to catch himself in his surprise or he might've snapped her ribs accidentally. Clearing his throat a bit he hobbled back and tapped his crutch against the ground, "There, I wouldn't recommend wearing armor unless you need to and I want you to report to me in the evening so I can check on the spell's process...I also need someone to keep an ear to the whispering in the camp now that Fido is...no long-"

"Dead, Mister Sardonyx. Fido is dead. He wouldn't beat around the bush with it, neither should you," said Golden as she removed her helmet with her hoof. Looking over her shoulder, she scanned the forest a final time before moving in front of Sardonyx. Gesturing back towards the camp, she continued;

"I think having an ear to chat off will be good for you, and in turn; good for all of us. If you don't mind escorting a wounded guard back to her tent, the forest is relatively clear, so I reckon I've earned a rest. I would've figured the wildlands would be more dangerous. I earned my first scraps clearing out parts of the Everfree for timber, what makes this forest so different?"

Walking alongside her along the narrow dirt path, Sardonyx couldn't help but smile as he replied; "There's hardly any magic here. Larger predators have trouble with their seventh sense, so they stay away. Plenty of game though, enough to feed a fief if you're smart about it. It’s a shame. There isn't enough sustenance for them."

"Them?" asked Golden with a twist of her snout.

"Our new allies of course...I'll explain later tonight if they don't come to us first. What sort of food did we recover, if you don't mind me asking?" prodded Sardonyx as they reached the edge of the encampment. Even if part of the plan had gone awry, its contingencies were at least falling into place. There were always other armies and other powers that could be used to cast off the chains they wore. That was the beauty of Equestria: so many things just seemed to fall through the cracks.

"Not much I'm afraid. Hardtack and 'gruel,' along with a bit of salted meat. Gonna reserve that for our feathered friends though, they need it more than we want it," said Golden as they passed two griffons, their talons raised in polite greeting. Craning his head back to eye them, Sardonyx found himself somewhat prideful. Prince Pontus' retainers had proven to be an invaluable boon to his efforts. He was also glad that they too decided to remain with him, even if their 'master' had fallen. He had been planning Potus' removal for some time anyway. The Black-Vogel had just sped things up.

"They're going to need it...did any word reach us from our allies in the East before the ritual?" asked Sardonyx, the Sultan had begun cracking down on any dissent after his little heist. Any word from them would be a sign of good news, but he couldn't imagine the horror the Janeighsarries had been inflicting.

'The Sultan is like a child throwing a tantrum, save for the fact when he is angered villages burn,' he thought to himself as they entered into the humble rows of canvas tents and shelters they had set up.

"None yet. I'll have one of the griffons start flying to Mooraco once they have their meal. It is...cold of me to say it, but Fido sent our first messenger out a week ago. It is unlikely he'd return so quickly. If he did, well..." said Golden as she trailed off. Her hoof rose to feel the dent in her armor before Sardonyx let a hoof rest on her shoulder.

"Very well...I only hope that he does not lose the letters from my mother. Imagine the embarrassment I'd have to endure at my hanging if the Sultan had access to anything she'd written! A lovely mare, but even now she coddles me as discreetly as possible. Faust forbid she finds out about my leg: she may as well start a revolution for us," said Sardonyx with a dry chuckle. For a moment he felt the hair on the back of his neck go stiff. If she did find out about the foreleg, she might turn Saddle Arabia into a desert twice over. He needed to free the people, not vaporize them.

"All great wizards have great teachers, don't they? We're fortunate...from what you've told us, she's sympathetic to your cause. I don't know much about Saddle Arabia if we're being honest. Having a former 'Sorcerer Supreme' on our side is a bit encouraging!" Replied Golden with a light laugh, the Mare blushing as Sardonyx withdrew his hoof that had been lingering on her shoulder. He didn't mean to remain longer than he should have. Hobbling around against his crutch as fast he could, he found himself stammering like a foal.

"W-well...yes, quite encouraging. Good for morale and s-support of the movement. Yes, right; I d-don't suppose one of these is your tent? I should let you go about your evening...t-thank you for the company. I still expect you to be examin-..I...come see me if your ribs hurt," sighed Sardonyx, currently the most wanted stallion in Saddle Arabia, Equestria, and the Griffon Empire before he hobbled away as fast as his legs could carry him.

He heard a laugh carried out in the air behind him as he fled; it was much kinder and gentler than he'd expect from such a sour end. It was light and full of joy as it finally reached him, "No, no Mister Sardonyx! Thank you! Don't tire yourself out too much, big morning ahead of us!"
Sardonyx was not one to regret decisions. Usually, that is.

He was now reconsidering some choice aspects of the few minutes as he slinked back to his tent to fall into his cot.

For starters, running was not his strong suit.

Secondly, he found himself regretting not speaking with Golden Dough longer. That stung the most at the moment, aside from the fact he might've torn a few stitches in his haste. She was right though. It was a big morning tomorrow. He found himself saying a quiet prayer as he hoped another bold plan wouldn't end in catastrophe.

No one had entered Changeling lands in decades.

They were disheveled, lanky, and filthy.

Twilight found herself thinking like Rarity. The 'humans' were soldiers of some kind, but even at their worst she always thought of soldiers as clean and proper. Shining had told her he always emphasized the 'grooming standard' among the ponies under his command. Even her brief journey with Luna's nightguard hadn't changed her opinion, the ships weren't exactly lavish, but even then the guards maintained themselves to the highest standard.

While Luna was moving with Miss Jackson to tend to the wounded, the leader of the 'Corps', Twilight had been left with Captain Dusk to explore the fort. They were, of course, tailed by two of the cadets at all times; but Luna had at least gotten them a chance to look around. It was a new opportunity to get a better look at the humans and learn about their species. The aged stallion trotting alongside her brought her a little comfort at least when a few humans shot her some dirty looks, probably not too keen on being ogled by her.

"Don't worry too much, Princess. They're just distrustful, from the way the Black-Vogel explained it they didn't exactly have the best introduction to Equus."

Turning her head to the Captain, she found herself quite close to correcting him. It was a massive understatement.

The bodies of their dead had only been half-buried by the time they'd finally entered the fort as the sun set. The bodies were in varying conditions, but the sight of each one made the hay churn in Twilight's stomach. She'd attended a funeral before, one of her first teachers at school had passed recently. Her friends had been there for her and supported her as she found herself choking up as they lowered the casket into the Royal Cemetery. It had been a very lovely ceremony, Celestia had delivered a beautiful eulogy, and Mrs. Chalkboard seemed as if she were just sleeping in her casket ready to pop up and drill the whole congregation in algebra.

She didn't have the luxury of that illusion anymore. They had paused in their tour to watch a group of cadets huddle around the grave of someone from their herd as blazing fires kept the darkness of night at bay. The Black-Vogel stood alongside one as she seemed to offer a sympathetic glance to the young man delivering a service of some kind to his friend. He had spoken a prayer in a foreign language that even the other cadets didn't understand. Others wearing plaid skirts played a somber tone on their shrill instruments as they began to shovel dirt into the grave. No attempt had been made to hide his friend's grievous wounds beyond his thick coat being turned to cover him like a blanket as they buried him with a makeshift wooden cross under the stars.

They lingered there for a while, just watching.There seemed to be dozens of other ceremonies happening at once, and the call of the 'bagpipes' still hung over their heads as they circled around the parapets as the night crept on. Each burst of somber music sent her heart a bit deeper into her stomach. Pausing against the wall, she offered a look towards Captain Dusk, "Is it always like this?"

"What is always like this, Princess?" asked the Captain as he settled beside her; his tan coat peeking out from beneath the black plates of his armor as graying hairs wrestled for control of his curly black mane underneath his helmet. The scarring around his face tugged at the crow's feet around his eyes as a frown grew on his features.

"I know what death is and I know that ponies die in battle. This? I don't know this, maybe I don't want to know this, but I have to know the truth of it. Is it always like this when the story ends? When the book stops and the heroes win?" asked Twilight as she turned her head back towards the courtyard and to their tailing guards. One of the taller humans offered her a hesitant wave of their hand as the other just spit onto the ground while providing her his middle finger in a hostile gesture.

"...Not always Princess. Sometimes it could be worse, other times it’s better," said Dusk as he paused to remove his helmet. Twilight noticed the stub of his ear flick against the cool breeze of the mountain as he turned his head up to watch the lights aboard the airships as they circled lazily overhead. The stallion had more experience than she had, but his vague answers infuriated her to no end. Scrunching up her snout a bit she sighed,

"How do you deal with it?"

"Slowly," he stated in another simple answer. Opening her mouth to speak again, she found herself at a loss for words. She had more questions, but his answer although cryptic, answered them. Staring at the Captain a bit more she shifted around on her hooves as the continuous blare of instruments came to a close. It'd been hours since they'd arrived, and now they'd finally finished.

"How will you deal with it, Princess?" asked Dusk from behind her, the stallion's questions causing her to jump a bit. He'd never spoken to her first. He'd always just spoken when he'd been spoken to.

"I-...I-I'm not sure..." She wasn't sure if she could write her feelings down about the bodies she'd seen to Celestia, bury herself in books until she forgot about it, or find comfort again in her friends. Suddenly, she found the Captain's annoying answer becoming all the more clear as her conscience began apologizing internally for plagiarism.

"I think...I'd deal with it slowly, one day at a time," Twilight said.

"Good answer Princess," said Captain Dusk with a short chuckle. The stallion cracked a smile for the first time since she'd met him as he turned away from the airships. Gesturing towards the figures of the human guards behind them in the faint light of torches along the parapet the Captain waved one over, "Could I borrow one of you for a moment? The Princess has some questions for you."

What was he doing? Why? They could watch them all plenty fine from here. Twilight arched her brow as she shook her wings a bit she canted her head towards him, "Captain Dusk..."

"Pardon my forwardness, but Princess Luna secured us permission to roam the fort to observe and learn about the humans. We've done an admirable job learning about their burial methods, but how they live is just as important as how they die," stated Captain Dusk as Twilight shot a brief look of betrayal at him. The two humans looked at each other for a moment, the taller friendly one who'd waved before shrugged his shoulders once before taking a step forward. The shorter one shot his hand up to halt his friend as he stepped forward instead, much to Twilight's dread. Taking a long swing from his canteen, he stepped closer to the nearest torch as the shadows were pushed away from him.

He was disheveled, lanky, and filthy, wearing a smile that rivaled a fox.

And he was also drinking a Magicka drought like it was water.

"Celestia! Stop that! Do you even realize what you're doing?!" squeaked out Twilight. The Captain chuckled lightly as if the human weren't intent on killing itself, instead of moving away from her to go speak with its friend. Waving a hoof madly at the stallion with a shocked look on her face, she couldn't formulate the words to describe the human's innate stupidity. Letting her horn glow, her aura wrapped around the canteen to yank it out of the human's hand much to his obvious displeasure.

"I was having a drink before a purple pony started to yell at me," deadpanned the dark-skinned human as his eyebrows arched down. Throwing up his hands, the man bowed his head sarcastically that twisted under Twilight's skin. "So why don't you enlighten me to my horrid offense, your highness."

"Y-you should be dying!" screamed out Twilight as she teleported behind the human in a flash. Prodding at him with her hooves before circling around him. There had to be something, anything wrong with him. Maybe an open wound was allowing the magic to siphon out? No, maybe humans had a hidden horn!

"Listen, Princess...I'm a not a light-weight and this stuff isn't exactly stro-"

"Show me your horn!" yelled Twilight as she had her magic grab the human's collar and pull him down to eye-level. Holding him a few inches from her face, she shook him a bit as she began her impromptu interrogation.

"My...what?"

"Your horn! The reason why you aren't melting into a pile of goo or discharging magic like crazy! You're chugging a Magicka potion! That's insanely dangerous!" said Twilight as she pulled him slightly under her, her forehead pressed against his as she desperately stared at his eyes. They were green, just green. They were a nice shade of green, but there wasn't anything dangerous about them: no glow, no power, no aura.

"My father always told me to never show my horn to a girl on the first date, so if you'd be so kind and..." said the human as he began to wiggle against her grip. Twilight felt her magic shudder, her hold wasn't particularly strong on the human; but she wasn't expecting her aura to fail her as he stood up to offer her a glare.

"Y-you...h-how you..." she said as she found herself stammering. It wasn't making any sense! They had told Princess Luna they were from a world without magic! How!?

The human wore a fox-like grin as he seemed to catch on. He reached slowly towards the canteen still floating in her aura as his hand reached out to pluck it from it before taking another swing, "I take it...I'm really, really not supposed to be able to do this?"

"...No, you're not...who are you?" asked Twilight as she flared her wings out as the human took the canteen from her, he was impossible! It should all be impossible!

"Sergeant Charlie Richard Byrd and stick with 'Byrd.' While I'm at it, gonna save us some time. I don't know how, I think it's pretty freakin' wizard, and I think you want to know more," said Byrd, slinging the canteen over his shoulder as he wore a cocky grin.

Lowering her head down with a sigh, Twilight conceded defeat to the human and nodded her head. Deciding that she had at least learned something about how humans lived. Magic might've been lost on them, but that doesn't mean it was lost to them.

His name was Byrd. He was disheveled, lanky, filthy, and wore an insufferable smile like a fox.

But Twilight had just found the first human to have a seventh sense.

"Saint Peter...sir, I should inform you that the Bible forgot to mention you're a giant horse with pretty hair...seems like a pretty big oversight," groaned out the cadet as she laid on her back.

She was the last one of Luna's patients for the night, the final human causality that she'd been able to stabilize. She'd been able to save all those she'd been brought before. To the credit of the corps' healers, they'd been able to stave off the deaths of many as long as they could before Luna and the airship's healers came. Commander Jackson was one of the most direct women she'd encountered in centuries, a stark contrast to the maddening lords millennia ago and the dithering nobles of today.

Luna almost felt she'd been ordered to treat the wounded if it wasn't for Jackson's fair-skinned assistant, Commander DuPont, explaining the dire need of help only she could provide. To even have a full 'parlay' Jackson requested, Luna would first have to treat the wounded their 'EMTs' had been struggling to save.

She had wondered what type of army didn't have their own surgeons or doctors.

But as she had worked alongside the EMTs and healers to save cadet after cadet, she realized they were indeed just that: cadets. They were quite different from the original Prench 'capdet' foals the Lord of Prance had taken from the nobles to train as royal officers centuries ago, but the idea was there. Perhaps now they were all soldiers after their experience, they were certainly all adults, but they were lost. They did at least have the foresight to recognize that.

Turning around she offered a nod to the ever-present Commander Jackson. Throughout her night, the group around them had changed. Dusk took the night guard back to the airships before escorting Twilight around the fort. DuPont, one of his subordinates, and Knight-Commander Asumahn had departed around midnight to bury one of their friends. The stern features of the human softened a bit as she bowed her head, "Princess you have my...sincerest gratitude."

"And I trust now, we are ready to begin a true parlay?" joked Luna lightly, even she could see the tired look on Jackson's features. The human offered her a shallow laugh and nodded her head as she began to move down the damp, narrow halls of the fort's keep. The gentle moans of the wounded fading away as they twisted their way past sleeping cadets and the occasional patrol before moving into a rather run down library so disorganized it'd give Twilight a heart-attack.

"We need to leave this mountain, we want Sardonyx, a place to stay, and a way home," declared Jackson as the door clicked shut behind them. She adjusted the red sash around the waist of her heavy overcoat before she moved to a small jug of water, pouring them each a glass before setting it onto the table.

Taking a long drink from her glass, Luna suddenly found herself wishing it was a nice wine of some kind, or perhaps even a harder liquor. The human's terms were simple, but she needed something in return. Meeting Jackson's glare, the Princess rose to her hooves as she began to speak slowly, "Your terms are simple. We will take you from this mountain and provide shelter for you. Sardonyx will see justice, and you will help us deliver it."

Pausing for a moment, Luna sampled the water once more disappointingly before setting an empty glass onto the table. Jackson stood at the other end of the table rather surprised as if she was expecting something more. Luna just arched her brow and waited before Jackson spoke, "No demands for us? Nothing?"

"You're offering your assistance in capturing a mad pony who is a threat to all of Equus so long as he still has the book that brought you here. I do not seek to control you or your people, Commander Jackson. The only condition I ask is that the Picatrix must be turned over to Equestrian hooves if it is recovered."

The Picatrix had to be destroyed, its power was impossible to deny. It turned Saddle Arabia into the wasteland it is and exterminated the Herons. It held other arcane rituals that in theory dwarfed the power even she could muster as Nightmare Moon. It could only be properly destroyed in Celestia and her's hooves. If the price for that guarantee was some land given to the humans and Sardonyx's head on their pikes, it was at least fair to her.

"...I see no reason to reject your offer, Princess Luna. I'll inform Commander DuPont and the others about our agreement immediately once we conclude this meeting," said Jackson as the human sill wore a look of surprise.

"Please, as long as we're behind closed doors you may just call me Luna. Our people are to be partners in this endeavor, why not allow ourselves to be friends too," replied Luna with a light chuckle. She circled around the table and extended her hoof out to Jackson. It was still a new gesture to her, but the common greeting seemed to be the most suitable. She'd noticed Applejack do it many times to various ponies during her visits to Ponyville.

"If that's the way we're rolling, I'm Elizabeth. When I'm feeling generous, my friends call me 'Liz...and I'm feeling quite generous after what you did for us, Luna. You saved our guys' lives in there," said Elizabeth as she wrapped her hand around Luna's hoof and shook it. Luna found herself glad the gesture wasn't lost on the human, but she found the sensation of the woman's fingers a bit odd, but not enough discomfort she couldn't hide behind a smile.

"Simple healing magic, I assure you. Tell me a bit about yourself, surely one does not become a 'Regimental Commander' by chance!"

Jackson, to her credit, was quite humble if not a bit awkward as the veil of professionalism was pulled away. She tilted her head down, and her curly mane shook a bit in its tail. Her voice cracked though when she began talking, "No...no I earned my spot as the Executive Commander. I did become the RCO by chance, no changing that."

"We were...unaware, our apologies," said Luna as she bit her tongue.

"You're fine, you didn't know," replied Jackson as she waved her hand dismissively, taking another sip from her water as she washed down whatever emotions were giving her pause.

"If you would like to talk about it, Elizabeth; we're quite familiar with loss."

"In time, sure. Right now, gotta get everyone off the mountain, get settled in, and get it all sorted out. Ammo, water, food: gotta figure that out too. So much to do before I can slow down, you know? Don't want to lose any more people because we decide to rush in like that again, rookie mistake," chuckled Elizabeth as she cupped the bottom of her chin. Luna's felt terrible as she watched her speak, it was as if she was looking through an old mirror. Elizabeth was convincing herself more than she was talking to Luna by now.

Moving towards the woman, Luna calmly let her wing rise to wrap around her shoulder as she hugged her from the side. Her uniform's wool bore a stale smell from the snow and dried sweat as it pressed against her fur. To her surprise, Jackson didn't struggle or lean away from the gesture. Instead, she turned her head a bit and leaned into Luna; "...is it always like this?"

Taking a deep breath, Luna nodded her head; "The burdens you must carry will always weigh heavily on your shoulders, but you are lucky Elizabeth. You came here with your brothers in arms, and they're quite capable too are they not? You mustn't try this struggle alone, your friends and comrades are here to assist you just as willingly as they will follow you."

Feeling her sigh against her neck, Jackson continued to lean against the princess as she spoke into her, "I...understand. Our Army teaches us to spread it out, the roles of leadership and all. When push comes to shove though it's just easier to try and control the whole situation all by yourself."

"An old friend once told me that you can 'steer a ship, but you can't do its rigging at the same time,'" said Luna as she tilted her eyes down to catch Jackson snorting with a very unladylike laugh.

"...your friend is right, though that must've been quite the hokey sailor!" barked out Jackson with another short series of laughs.

"A 'hokey' wizard actually, Star Swirl just had experience with sailing in his youth...but the sentiment is all the same," giggled Luna as she recalled the time the aged wizard had tried to take her and Tia fishing centuries ago. The excursion went well as it could: only half the lake had been drained, and plenty of fish had been blown out onto the land to be harvested.

Edging her way out of Luna's embrace as she calmed down, Elizabeth bowed her head a bit; "Thank you, Luna...I needed that more than I realized. How about I send a messenger over to DuPont and your captains and we can arrange a time for departure in the morning? We've 'steered' them plenty, and they'll handle...'our rigging' enough for you to tell me more about your wizard friend."

"That sounds lovely, Elizabeth. Though I will admit there's a charm to sea and sky captains, I don't believe I'd ever find a sailor handling my 'rigging' as it were," teased Luna as she moved to settled down in a chair across from the woman.

"Army beats Navy, that's for sure...this one time after a football game, a friend from my Army class and I went out to this little bar in town, and I got absolutely hammered. Then I just hammered harder him in return..."

"You need some help with that, Cantwell?" asked Aloisia as Cantwell hauled himself and a large cask up the narrow ramp to the airship's hull as the fresh morning wind whipped at him. There were other entryways he could've taken but, other companies had been assigned to loading the ship from them. They had extended walkways from the wall right to its deck, nearly half the battalion was currently loading the ship from the top. Command Company though was given the luxury of loading the lower cargo hold from below.

"No...no, I've got it. Just give me a bit of time here," Cantwell replied as he adjusted his grip on the barrel, resting it on his shoulder as he found himself looking down to the ground below. Aloisia continued to float beside him with an amused look on her features. He wasn't sure what genius designed the narrow ramp he found himself on, but he desperately wished for guardrails. The ground seemed to be miles under him as a bit of sweat raced down his back.

He felt the wind freeze a bead of sweat on his forehead as it knocked the cover off the top of his head. He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered with the hat, no one was in proper uniform. Everyone had removed their dyke straps and brass and were either moving around in their shirts, gray jackets, overcoats, or an odd combination of the three. As the cold pricked at his skin as he felt his knees shake a bit, Cantwell was regretting his decision to just remain in an undershirt and pants.

"What's the holdup? We've got to be loaded for liftoff in ten minutes!" barked out Byrd as he flapped his arms around as if he were trying to fly himself. Aloisia offered Cantwell and amused look before floating behind him to shout back at Byrd,

"Did you know Cantwell is afraid of heights?"

"What the shit? Cantwell, you're afraid of heights? You told me you were trying to be a helicopter pilot!" yelled Byrd as he handed a few bags of grain to another cadet who almost seemed to skip up one of the other narrow ramps effortlessly.

"I'd be strapped into something! You can't compare flying copters to this! It's dangerous up here!" Cantwell called out as he shot Aloisia the dirtiest glare he could muster as he inched up the ramp. They were over ten feet up! He could break his damn neck up here!

"You were on the frontlines of a battle yesterday and fought for its entirety. That was dangerous. This is just silly," laughed Aloisia as she circled around him.

"Again: different situation, can't compare the two!" yipped Cantwell as he stumbled a bit, catching himself from tripping off the ramp. Finally reaching the top after what seemed like a century, one of the ponies aboard the ship offered him a curious glance before Cantwell set the barrel down in front of him. Staring at the pony, he gave it a polite finger as he started to inch back down the ramp. He didn't like heights, wasn't his fault. Neither the pony nor anyone else had the right to judge.

"I'd prefer to make it off this rock sometime today, Cantwell!" chided Byrd with a laugh as he passed by Cantwell walking up up the narrow ramp carrying another cask, an insufferable smile earning another flip of the bird. Extending his arm out to accent the gesture, it made Cantwell feel good for a moment before he realized he was losing his balance. As his foot slipped from the ramp and he tumbled backward, he found himself contemplating his choice to walk up the ramp in the first place.

"Son of a bi-!" Cantwell screamed as he fell and fell and fell. He felt weightless for an eternity as he flailed his arms around, anything to slow his descent as he kept his eyes closed. He was determined the ground would be a surprise to him so that death would come quickly. Breathing heavily, he also decided that if he were to die, he should at least say the Shema one more time.

"Sh'ma Yisra'eil Adonai Eloh-..." rasped out Cantwell before something flicked him on his ear. He wasn't falling anymore, and the ground apparently had a very strong grip.

"A lovely prayer, Cantwell, but I don't believe you're going to die from a ten-foot drop...maybe bruise your ass, so you can thank me for saving you from that fate. Another cigarette would be suitable perhaps?" said Aloisia as she flicked his ear again with her talon, the griffon flapping her wings as she lowered him back down to the ground.

"I'd buy you a thousand cigarettes for that one...are handrails not a thing here either?" asked Cantwell as he pointed accusingly back towards the ramp. Wandering towards his cover laying in the snow, he brushed it off before fishing out two cigarettes from the dwindling pack. It'd been full when he got here, and now he was going through them like crazy. They calmed him down a lot, the nicotine helped with the stress.

"Anything with hands is usually able to fly here, and ponies don't lose their balance too often...nor are many afraid of heights," said Aloisia with a short laugh. Taking one of the smokes as Cantwell offered it out to her, she rose to her hind legs as he took out the lighter. Around them, voices began to holler out as the ramps on the ship were pulled back into its belly. Byrd strode up to them, tapping Cantwell on the shoulder just as he managed to light his cigarette.

"Com'on you two 'ought to know those things will ruin your lungs," said Byrd as he spit a bit of dip into the snow. The cadets shuffling along the tops of the walls cried out cheers as they began to board. They crossed along planks carrying stretchers and crates as the corps split themselves between three of the large Equestrian airships.

"Looks like it's time to go, Cantwell, Command Company is aboard the Eternal Night...not sure where you're going birdie, but I figure you're riding with us," Byrd said as he peeled away with the rest of the company, the cadets hurried along by the whipping of the cold wind.

Turning his head up towards Aloisia, Cantwell paused a bit as he took a short puff from his cigarette. She looked at him with an inquisitive look as her light gray feathers were rustled slightly by the air, her voice humming out before he could speak with an amused smile; "Yes, I'm staying with you...someone has to keep an eye on 'Sardonyx's Demons.' You won't mind the company, and I don't have to kick your ass for nearly killing me as long as you keep the tobacco coming. I trust that's acceptable, John?"

Blinking a bit as she used his first name, Cantwell coughed against the warm burn of the cigarette as he nodded his head, "Y-yeah that's fine. No problem there. I...I don't suppose you want to skip the line?"

Jabbing his thumb up towards the long line of cadets funneling onto the ships from the walls with an anxious look, Cantwell chuckled as he mimicked her flying with his arms. Aloisia caught on to his weak attempt at charades faster than he deserved, floating around him again the griffon wrapped under his arms and lifted him into the air with a quick swoop. Wiggling his legs a bit, Cantwell let out a short cry as he found himself nearly begging her, "Please don't drop me!"

Letting out a laugh, Aloisia dived a bit; scaring the life out of Cantwell as he let out another cry as they whirled up towards the ship, "Relax John! I've got you! This is just revenge for pointing a gun at me, now I get to scare you to death!" Aloisia cried out to him. The griffon's firm grasp on his shoulders was reassuring, but he found himself doubting if it was a good idea to let her have her fun before they finally reached the deck of the ship.

"Knight-Commander, I'm glad you've decided to accompany us," came a soft voice from above Cantwell as he found himself laying on his back, mostly just thankful to not be in the air anymore. Above him, one of the Equestrian Princesses was talking with Aloisia. It was the taller one, Luna. He'd heard how she saved a lot of the guys who were wounded, but he didn't want to think about how many of them would've died without her.

"Lugging around this idiot isn't the same as flying back to the High King's keep, going to need a bit more time before the ribs are ready for that kind of flight. In the meantime, someone has to be the Empire's representative in the hunt for our prey...if you don't object of course," said Aloisia as she bowed her head respectfully to Luna. Cantwell began to rise to his feet, mildly annoyed at being called an 'idiot,' but he didn't mind too much.

"Of course not, you shall be an honored guest! Once we arrive in Canterlot I'll provide you with lodgings at the castle, it's been far too long since we've had the pleasure of a Black-Vogel's company. I will have to insist you attend a dinner as my guest, once things calm down of course," said Luna with a bright smile, the Equestrian princess in a much better mood than when he first saw her staring down Jackson the other night. Brushing himself off, Cantwell adjusted his cover and gave a silent nod to Aloisia as she continued the polite conversation with the princess. Politics, although an interesting thing to observe, weren't his priority as he searched up and down the deck before finding DuPont standing beside Byrd at the front of the ship.

"You know, if someone were making a picture, this would be fricken' perfect. You got a serious look on and dramatically gazing out into the horizon, Lee. Cantwell! You're a bookish type, got a romantic notion to describe this moment for the ages?" teased Byrd as he offered Cantwell a wave as he approached the duo. DuPont looked over his shoulder and nodded at him as he stood beside him.

Aiming an annoyed glance at Byrd, intrigued on how the man beat him to the deck so fast, Cantwell delivered a choice few words that he learned from his grandfather, "Yeder eyzl hob lib tsu hern vi er aleyn hirzhet."

"No one speaks Jewish here, John...I'm thinking maybe you just complimented my eyes. What's your take, Lee? You've been quiet," asked Byrd as he turned to eye DuPont, a hand tapping his shoulder to make sure the man was still with them.

Turning his head down to Byrd, DuPont scratched at the back of his neck before he cleared his throat. His voice came to him quietly as pulled himself from his thoughts, "I'm fine, I was just speaking with Treptow in Band before we left. He said something, reminded me of that Brooke poem about those we lost..."

"Melodramatic isn't it?" stated Byrd with a chuckle as the ship's crews began to shout. The body of the hull shifted beneath them as they began to rise. The wood beneath Cantwell's feet moving as the airship began to lean forward, drifting before its propellers began to lazily turn as they plotted a course.

"It's fitting. Only a shame we didn't couldn't leave the stars and stripes for them," Cantwell found himself saying as he looked down to the fort. The neatly arranged graves were lined up in perfect rows, the brown mounds of dirt breaking out through the white sheet of snow.

"No, but we left behind part of Stonebridge," rumbled out DuPont with a small smile. Cantwell's eyes caught the flag of the Insitute raised atop the top of the keep's roof. The simple white cloth adorned with a sigil of Lady Virginia standing over a dead king, she declared the fate of tyrants and blessed the name of the school under her. A piece of black cloth flew from its top, the Institute's award for their battle at Bushong Farm during the Civil War centuries ago. Underneath that flew a red officer's sash.

Henry King's final award to the corps and in his honor, for the bravery and sacrifice of all their friends at New Stonebridge. They had decided to grant the Institue's banner one final honor before they left it in the hands of its capable guardians.

Watching the fort fade further and further away, Cantwell felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He still heard Marshal's screams, the whimpers of the wounded, and the crack of rifles; but it grew quieter as they rose above the clouds.

Softer.

And softer.

They never left him though, he carried them with him into the sky and the warmth of the sun.