(16: Triumph)
The sight of the Lancers’ return came as the divine wish that the Canterlot Guardsponies had been seeking, their triumph against such powerful magic fuelling the flames of hope that burned within their hearts. With each thrust of his weapon, the strength of Emerald's senses came rushing back, the levity of each step he took providing a sensation which he imagined to be akin to a new-born Pegasus taking their first steps onto the fluffy foundations of Cloudsdale.
While all was far from perfect, with many frontline soldiers still trapped in blocks of solid ice, the waning storm made it evident to the Crystal Pony Commander that this new opportunity would be the turning point of the battle, one that would be foolish to waste. “Heavy infantry, surround the fallen and attack!” Emerald ordered, his grace and dedication in combat inspiring them all. “The rest of you, Guardsponies, push the enemy towards the Lancers and bring this battle to an end!”
Meteor, however, did not move from her spot. Scattered shards of ice lay clustered around her hind hooves, an avalanche of thoughts inspired by her paralysed compatriot directing her focus onto the many branching paths of possible tactical decisions she could make. Her head was throbbing from the weight of all the questions praying on her mind. What could Moonlight bring ta this fight? Would we be winnin' faster with her, or without her? One look beyond the front ranks, and she could see Trolls falling left and right, along with the Phantom Stallions behind them.
However, there was a particular detail that kept Meteor from rushing to join her comrades. Just as Emerald had ordered, the enemy was trapped between a shield wall and the pole-hammers reaching around the flanks, with not a single phantom able to break through the line. Many tried, relentlessly blasting their magic at point blank range while the Trolls tried using their weapons to disarm the Canterlot Guardsponies of their shields. All futile attempts, as most of the attacks were either parried through the reach of the pole-hammers, or outright blocked by the quick adjustment of the phalanx.
Meteor gripped her hammer tight. She could feel her heart tugging her towards the front lines, her muscles tense with anticipation. Just thinking about feeling that her carnage could bring got her blood pressure rising. But instead, she turned back towards the block of ice where Moonlight was trapped.
Though it was difficult to see, Moonlight's chest was rising and falling by a tiny amount; all the evidence she needed that her battle sister was alive. Pulling her hammer back as far as her front legs would allow, Meteor reared up and twisted her torso in the same direction, holding it for several seconds before releasing the pent-up energy like a coiled spring, smashing the weapon into the frozen prison. Winding up for another swing, Meteor kept the blows focused on the crater-shaped mark on the front, expanding the cracks with each hit.
“What in Celestia's name do you think you're doing?!” Emerald snapped, his head switching back and forth between the battle and Meteor.
“Giving us a backup,” she said, he attention unmoved from Moonlight.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Emerald exclaimed, narrowly parrying a Troll's weapon with his buckler. “Meteor, she's dead.”
“No. She. Isn't!” Meteor huffed between each pound, refusing to entertain such thoughts.
“Why, you little...” Emerald trailed off, missing the stab and getting a face full of phantom fist in the process. Oh, forget it! Staring a phantom straight in the eyes, Emerald paid his retribution to the enemy that injured him with a smack of his buckler. The enemy ranks were now at their tightest, providing a barrier to the shaman who had turned his back on them, making a hasty retreat.
Oh, no, not this time! Emerald swept his eyes across the breadth of the battlefield, compiling the details of each battalion in relation to the foe. Come on, come on, where can I break you, this phrase echoed in his head, only for any answers to be blocked by the usurping memories of Moonlight. By any military standard, they were an odd pair of partners to have a friendship crafted by war. A Crystal Pony and a Bat Pony, back to back and trading attacks to keep the enemy away. Just like that, she was gone, her end ushered by the magic of a Troll shaman.
Could Meteor be right? Emerald wondered. Could she still live... through that? Emerald shook his head, rejecting the invasive thoughts away just in time for a Phantom Stallion to attempt a buck to his face. Dropping to his knees, Emerald slid under the attack, his returning thrust chipping the edge of the gem
“Push harder!” he called, all troops clashing their arms with the enemy, increasing the rate of which they gained ground. Emerald himself rolled away from the ghost, ignoring the stomping of its hooves as he righted himself. Dammit, Moonlight... Galloping past the rows of combatants with a Phantom Stallion in tow, Emerald felt the cold sting of a tear rolling down his cheek, with more soon to follow. Why, Moonlight? Why did you have to die like that? Why can't I forget you? Why can't I ignore these stupid emotions? Why...
The Crystal Lancers—his kin—were now just a stone's throw away. Surely, they would make him feel complete again. He could see that Garnet had noticed him, relaying the news to the rest of the Cavaliers. So very close, only for Kur'zun to show he had one extra surprise up his sleeve.
The shattered pieces of the blocks quivered beneath the hooves of the escaped ponies, the reserves of the shaman's magic pulling them into an airborne cluster, swirling over the heads of the defenders. Gripping his staff at the bottom end, Kur'zun lifted it above his head, then slammed the tip into the ground, releasing the shards to plummet down like a rain of daggers against the Crystal Ponies.
Emerald's armour protected him from most of the icicles, though even the toughness of his hide couldn't withstand the magical onslaught forever. Mere feet from his soldiers, a dozen shards struck lucky, stabbing through his armour to cut deep across his back. As blood seeped through the openings, pain shot through his body and slowed his movements to a canter. Though every step he took agitated his wounds, the sight of the Lancers shielding themselves from the deadly rain kept his desire to re-join them alive, dragging him on like a magnet to a metal shard, regardless of how heavy his limbs were starting to feel. Taking advantage of his weakened state, a unit of Troll barbarians split off from the regiment and charged at Emerald, axes held high to hew his skull in two.
That was until a flap of black, leathery wings swooped overhead, four weapons spinning around in the pony’s front four limbs, cutting the Trolls to ribbons in a flurry of blows. Meteor had been right; Moonlight was alive. Shivering and holding two maces in hooves blistered with frostbite, yet still fighting fit.
“What are you waiting for?” Moonlight yelled, standing guard in front of Emerald. “Join the other Crystal Ponies and kill that shaman. Go!”
For the first time in what had felt like an age, hearing somepony else give orders to him felt like a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. Though the pain of his wounds was still present, the icicles cutting into his flesh—causing his over-worked muscles losing some of their flexibility—the voice of his old friend was enough to spur him on, pushing his body as far as it would allow to help his Lancers.
“Need a hoof, commander?”
The last thing Emerald was expecting to hear trotting up to him was the gracious voice of Stellar Shine, though by the way he removed the shards and closed the wounds with his magic, Emerald couldn't have asked for a better pony to show up in his moment of need.
“Present for you, sir,” Stellar said, throwing a bottle of blue liquid into Emerald's open hoof. Without a moment's hesitation, he popped the cork out and chugged down the manna potion in one go, restoring enough of his stamina for the fray.
As Garnet lowered her shield, welcoming Emerald back into the fold, she caught the Troll shaman in a frustrated roar, baring his teeth as he spat orders at his troops in an unintelligible tongue. At long last, the source of all their hardships was in sight, open to feeling the wrath of the ponies he had subjected so much strife to. “Commander Emerald, sir!” she said as she threw up her hoof in salute, keeping her chest puffed out even as she let out a long sigh of relief. “Good to see you've made it to us in one piece.”
“Likewise, Garnet,” Emerald replied as he pointed his rapier at the shaman. “What say we deliver the Trolls some retribution, Crystal Empire style?”
“Whenever you're ready, sir!”
With Emerald heralding the charge of the Empire's fiercest once more, the image of the Crystal Heart shone in the centre of his mind's eye, its perpetual beauty shining with the pride of the nation it represented. The Trolls were terrified and scattered in all directions, inadvertently making themselves easy targets from above and below. As the once towering ranks crumbled away, the sight of Emerald's ultimate target only became clearer. A swirl of the shaman's staff unleashed a volley of frost bolts at the Lancers, a spell which would have been deadly were it not for the volume of magic he had expended during the course of the battle. If there was one thing that Emerald had learned from the reign of King Sombra, it was that all users of magic, no matter how powerful, had their limits.
Now that the Shaman had reached his, it was time for Emerald to make him pay for all the strife he had forced the empire to endure. “The strength of the Crystal Empire is ours to use!” Emerald called, his hoof itching to join the point of his rapier with the flesh of his opponent. “Spread out and clear a path for me! I'll show you young ones what it means to achieve glory in war!”
His orders were obeyed without question, his soldiers eager to see their champion in action, enduring the hits of the frost bolts as if they were a barrage of paper balls thrown by an unruly school foal. Gripping the staff with both hands, Kur'zun prepared to engage in a melee bout with him. Though his magic had waned, his light and slender figure still gave him enough agility to dodge the first thrust of Emerald's rapier.
Skidding to a halt around the back of his foe, Emerald swiped his blade in an upwards slash, cutting a piece of the troll's robe, missing the skin by mere centimetres. Leaning into Emerald's next attack, Kur'zun tried to force the momentum of the strike to lunge past, leaving an opening for him to retaliate. Though as Kur'zun swung his weapon in a wide arc, Emerald switched the direction of his assault, leaning away to roll backwards away from the sweep, twirling his rapier to stab upwards into the shaman's bicep.
Kur'zun's arm recoiled in pain, though by coincidence of this reflex, his staff was also pulled back, the strike to the flank catching Emerald by surprise and knocking him forward. Emerald thrust his rapier forward, spreading out his three remaining hooves in an attempt to keep his balance. Another smack of Kur'zun's weapon struck him in his rib cage, knocking the wind out of Emerald as he collapsed.
Kur'zun licked his lips. He had him at his mercy, and with so much potential for what he could do to him, he felt almost spoiled for choice. Though with how deep his breaths were becoming, the need to replenish some energy as a means of maintaining his status made one particular choice more desirable than others. Shooting off a large flare of magic to grab the attention of the battlefield, Kur'zun slapped the end of his staff into the back of Emerald's neck and pinned him down with his foot, fully intending to make a public spectacle of his ensuing self-indulgence.
Emerald squirmed, wriggling every muscle he could feel to get free; a difficult task, as his captor was, despite his lanky appearance, considerably heavier than he was. A violent shiver shot through his body as he felt the Troll peeling off the back of his light breastplate, the frigid tundra air biting at his skin. Though his chest was restricted, Emerald still did his best to relax his breath rate, as allowing panic to set in was not an option. His thoughts remained focused on the Crystal Heart, his biggest source of strength to resist against the Troll's magic. If he were to allow himself to die now, then Celestia only knew what kind of an example he would be setting for his fellow warriors.
Though it was beginning to flicker, Emerald could still feel the warmth of his innate magic present within his soul. Even as Kur’zun scraped his sharp tusks against the flesh on his back—deep enough to feel the pain, yet shallow enough to cause only minor bleeding—he knew that his own force of will was far from spent. He lay still for a few moments more, biding his time as he felt the shift in weight between each second the shaman's attempted torture. Emerald's moment came when Kur'zun was half way leaning over, positioning his tusks to scrape away at him again.
With every ounce of his available strength, Emerald twisted his body to the left, slipping out from beneath the shaman's foot until he was on his back, the perfect position to buck his hooves and snap the monster's tusks clean in half. Kur'zun reared back in pain, dropping his staff as he wrapped his hands around his broken teeth, just as Emerald had expected him to do. Seizing the moment, Emerald took his shot, grabbing his rapier and thrusting it forward, piercing the shaman's throat at the base of his windpipe.
“Today is where your reign of terror ends, Moonshadow!” Emerald yelled, using his best imitation of the royal Canterlot voice to ensure he was noticed. “I will never let another soul torment ponies of the Empire ever again!”
Between the coughs and wheezes that was the shaman's death rattle, he managed to force out one last, throaty laugh. “Moonshadow... I... be not-”
With those final words of spite, Kur'zun fell face first into the snow, the last of his magic evaporating from his mouth and nose as he died. With him, every single one of the Phantom Stallions that had not been destroyed also collapsed, the lights in their eyes vanishing as they left no more than a crumpled pile of armour where their ranks once were.
As Emerald stood up, he raised his rapier into the air let out an ecstatic roar of triumph. By all accounts, the Empire had won the day at last.