Four Days Ago
"Brimstone, behind you!" Rosewood shouted.
Gasping for breath against the constant blizzard, Brimstone wheeled around and lashed out with his wing. He could barely see the crystalline golem through the blinding snow, but he made out enough of the shape to get another clean cut. Like all the others, his wingtips sliced through the golem like it was nothing, and it roared in pain as crumbled into a pile of ice.
Brimstone quickly swiveled around. He could taste blood at the back of his throat, and his heart raced. Squinting the snow from his eyes, he shouted, "Rosewood! Where are you?"
"Here, I– Ah!"
Brimstone heard a loud thud and saw a faint shadow fly into a snow bank. He rushed towards it, but he had to duck at the last second to dodge a giant fist made of ice. He leapt up and brought his wing up from the ground, cutting the golem through the middle. "Are you okay?" he shouted over the storm.
Shaken, Rosewood stood and rushed to his side. "I'll be fine."
Creatures appeared through the snowfall, groaning and roaring, and Brimstone and Rosewood found themselves encircled.
For a moment, all the energy drained from Brimstone's body, until Rosewood shouted, "Any of that magic work on ice demons?"
Brimstone's joints locked up, and he heard a whispered thought at the back of his mind. 'A crystal barrier would buy us enough time to regroup.' He felt himself begin to agree, until the voice continued, '…and that energy could be channeled into the golems themselves. A whole army of mindless slaves.' Brimstone shuddered, and the power began to crawl up the back of his neck. He could feel himself slip away.
"Snap out of it!"
Brimstone shook his head and surveyed the golems closing in, then saw that they were evenly spaced around them in a ring. A memory of his high school flying squad flashed across his mind, and without thinking, he leapt into the air. "I've got this!"
Rosewood shrank. "What? Don't just leave me here! Brimstone!"
Brimstone dashed between two golems, barely dodging their attacks. With a hard flap of his wings, he gained some altitude, then spun around and picked out their movements: only nine remained, a ring of six and three at the periphery. Allowing his instinct to take over, he dived back down and weaved between them as fast as he could manage, and with each flap of his wings, he made small cuts in the golems. Left, right, left, right, he threaded himself like a needle through the ice creatures, each lap inflicting more damage.
The golems roared, and as they reeled back, Rosewood leapt on them to deliver the finishing blows with an obsidian knife.
After a flurry of battle, the ponies gasped for breath in the snow, huddling close for warmth. Before long, Rosewood shouted over the wind, "I think there's a small cave nearby." She began walking away. "We should go before we die of exposure."
Brimstone snarled. "Let me at least catch my–"
Rosewood spun around. "We wouldn't be so out of breath if you'd just used your powers!"
"This again?" Brimstone stood, his hackles raised. He cast a hoof in an angry, dismissive motion. "I will not use them. They could take over. It is my decision, and I say no."
She sneered. "You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Sombra."
"Well so are you! Just because I refuse to take the easy way–"
"The hard way nearly got us killed!"
"And the easy way might have seen you enslaved! Argh!" Brimstone threw his head back. When Rosewood didn't answer, he looked back at her. "What?"
Her brows were furrowed. "I'm already a slave. I always have been. This is my one shot to earn freedom for myself and my family and friends, and you want to throw it away because you don't feel like trying your hardest?" She snorted and kicked a pile of snow. "Why did I bring you here at all?"
"A fine question." Brimstone sat in the snow. "I am not a fighter. I don't want to kill my father. And I am only on the run because you brought the situation to the Princesses' attention. It would have all been better if you had just left me be!"
Without speaking, Rosewood stared, then picked up her daggers and stuck them back into her saddlebags. She turned and walked through the snow.
"Where are you going?" Brimstone called. The back of his mind told him to compel her to return, but instead he shouted, "We were not done!"
Barely over the sound of the storm, she said, "It sounds like we were." With a sigh, she walked on. "I'm going to go do what it takes. Come with me to the Empire, or die out here on your own. I don't care anymore."
Brimstone considered staying put, but as Rosewood began to fade into the storm, he growled at himself and followed.