//------------------------------// // Where Valor Lies // Story: The Tip of the Spear // by Antiquarian //------------------------------// Shining Armor ran a hoof through his hair, a grimace marring his features as he read through the casualty report for the third time. He didn’t really need to read it again; with the Queen’s magic gone, his addled state had disappeared, and while it left a monster of a headache in its place, that it wasn’t as though he couldn’t focus. He wasn’t really sure why he read it a third time. Perhaps he was just being thorough. Perhaps he’d picked up some of his sister’s paranoia. Perhaps he just didn’t want to believe what he was reading. Or perhaps it’s because if you’d done your job, there wouldn’t be a casualty list. “The soldiers who were in critical condition have all been stabilized,” Surgeon Captain Sawbones was saying as he washed his hooves. The grizzled earth pony seemed to have developed a week’s worth of stubble in the last few hours, and a detached part of Shining absently wondered if the veteran medic’s facial hair grew faster when he was ‘in the field’ in some capacity. “It was touch and go for a few of ‘em, but we’ve got some darned fine doctors here.” He grabbed a towel to dry his hooves and used the damp rag to mop the sweat and grime from his face. “Some of the boys will have a long road to recovery, and that’ll mean prosthetics for some, but they’ll live.” The doctor stared at his reflection in the washroom mirror, looking as tired as Shining Armor felt. “All things considered, we got off lucky,” he mused quietly. “When was the last time you heard of an invasion being repulsed with no friendly fatalities?” Shining Armor stared at the long list of Guard casualties. The changelings had been trying to take them alive, and so had opted for non-lethal tactics. But ‘non-lethal’ was a broad term, and in more than one case the bugs had apparently given up trying. If the attack had lasted more than a few minutes, the list would certainly have included more than a few ‘KIAs.’ As it was, most of Shining’s soldiers would make full recoveries. But not all. Even the best medicine couldn’t regenerate limbs, or replace lost eyes. “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky. “Lucky.” Sawbones didn’t look over at him, but continued to stare at the mirror. “Lucky,” he repeated. Nothing else needed to be said. They’d both seen enough action to know the score. With a sigh, Shining Armor forced himself to put the list down. “You should get some rest, Doc. You look dead on your feet.” The Surgeon Captain had just finished a six-hour trauma surgery on a critically injured mountain climber when the attack started. That, in turn, had been eight hours ago, and he’d probably been up hours longer prepping for the initial surgery. Even so, he looked ready to gripe. “Shouldn’t you do the same, sir? After all, you’re recovering from a rather hearty dose of dark magic.” Shining Armor cocked an eyebrow. “I will rest soon, Doc. But you need to rest now. When was the last time you slept?” Sawbones grunted. “I’ve pulled longer days in the field.” “Yes, Doc. In the field. But you said it yourself; all the patients are out of danger, and there are some ‘darned fine doctors’ looking after things. So hit the sack, Bones. That’s an order.” The doctor opened his mouth to object, but his objection turned into a yawn. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But only if you promise to take it easy. You’ve had a serious shock to your system, and I do not need my sleep interrupted by rushing you to the O.R.” “Duly noted,” smirked Shining Armor. With an unintelligible mumble, Sawbones put his hoof on the door to leave. Before he did, though, he half turned to face his commanding officer. “Sir, I’m one of the best combat surgeons in the business,” began the stallion. “You know that. But Doctor Cortex is a specialist in his field. The specialist, really.” The medic paused. “Your mate’s in good hooves, sir.” Shining Armor forced a smile. “Thanks, Bones.” His piece said, Sawbones left. Shining sighed, taking a moment to let the silence of the now-empty room soothe him. But he didn’t stay long. He had work to do. And so he followed Sawbones out. Cadence was waiting for him when he exited the washroom, seated on a bench eating an energy bar under the watchful gaze of four guardponies. She beamed when she saw him and bolted down the last of her bar before greeting him with a nuzzle. He returned her affection, resting his muzzle over her neck, not particularly caring about a public display of affection in front of four soldiers. He simply let the softness of her fur, the warmth of her embrace, the beating of her heart against his chest soothe him. “Cadence,” he murmured in her ear. “I’m here,” she replied in the same tone. And for a moment they simply stood like that. Then he pulled back from the embrace and gave her a sympathetic look. “You don’t need to do this with me,” he repeated for the third time that hour. “You need to rest. You were down there for days. And you’ve got our real wedding to prepare for, remember?” It had been suggested that the couple had agreed to have their wedding in two days, to reassure the populace after the fright of the attack and to celebrate the Equestiran victory. Shining Armor had been reluctant, given the massive damage the attack had done. If any of his soldiers had been killed he would have flatly refused. As it was, the bullet they had collectively dodged had made him painfully eager to be married before something else happened to his bride-to-be. So he wasn’t keen to let her exhaust herself by accompanying him on his rounds. For her part, Cadence appeared just as keen not to be left behind. She cocked an eyebrow in her ‘I-love-you-but-no’ face and said, “Shining, I’m rested, rehydrated,” she held up her empty wrapper in a blue magic grip, “re-nourished, and I’m an alicorn.” She brought a hoof up to rest on his withers. “Honey, I’m fine.” He smiled and kissed her. “Can’t blame a guy for checking.” She smiled and they left to make their rounds. One hundred and thirty-seven assorted stallions and mares had been injured in the changeling attack. Of them, one hundred and twenty-two were soldiers. Twenty-nine had been injured severely, and sixteen critically. Shining Armor and Cadence visited them all, to commend them for their heroism and to thank them for their sacrifices. To more than one Shining Armor brought medals for valor and for injuries sustained in combat. To all of them they brought the gratitude of the Army, the Royals, the Kingdom, and themselves. Most soldiers were awake for the visit. Some of the younger ones seemed baffled that their commander would visit them personally, much less a Royal. They seemed even more baffled by the medals and commendations. After all, in their minds they’d simply done their duty. Shining Armor found that touching. One Private Comet, his horn wrapped in aloe-soaked gauze, had been utterly dumbstruck when Shining presented him with the Bronze Sun for courage in battle. Some of the veterans felt comfortable enough to crack jokes with Armor, though they maintained their decorum when addressing Cadence. They accepted their honors with dignity. A few soldiers were asleep for the visit, either resting from their injuries and fatigue or mercifully unconscious thanks to the painkillers being pumped through their veins. The number of ponies who had lost limbs was low, but some soldiers were so wrapped in bandages that they looked like they were being prepared for an embalming. These few received a medal on the table, a salute from Shining, and tears from Cadence. But the hardest visit of all came last. Most of the critically injured patients had rooms of their own. In front of one of these, Shining found two familiar faces. Argent Sabre and Brick were a sorry sight, the latter wrapped in bandages and leaning on his maul for support, the former looking like she might fall asleep where she stood. Both were still covered in the grit and grime of combat, their armor dented and pitted, their fur matted and stained. But they stood guard, alert in spite of their injuries and exhaustion. At the sight of the couple’s approach, Argent an Brick snapped to attention, saluting. Argent addressed the pair. “Your Highness, Sir, I— Shining Armor brushed past the salute and give his old Academy friend a warm hug, which she returned after a moment’s hesitation, before grasping fetlocks with Brick. “Thank Celestia the two of you are in one piece,” he said feelingly. “Well, we couldn’t let you have all the glory, boss,” Brick chuckled, wincing as his cracked ribs protested. With a frown, Shining reprimanded him. “You should be in bed, soldier.” He glanced at Argent, noting that she wasn’t standing as rigidly as usual. “Both of you.” Argent snorted. “Oh, pish tosh, Sir. We’ve suffered through worse.” Her eyes became distant. “And it very nearly was much, much worse.” Shining nodded, looking past her at the door they guarded. “How is he?” The unicorn mare bit her lip. “He’ll… live,” she answered eventually. “Beyond that… well… Doctor Cortex is with him now.” Silence followed her statement as all four ponies seemed to find the floor fascinating. At length, Cadence cleared her throat. “Well, I’m still a little weak on my hooves. Would you all mind if we sat?” Shining Armor knew his fiancé well. He might have wanted her to get rest, but she hadn’t been kidding about her alicorn blood’s healing properties; she was standing straighter than any of them at the moment. She wasn’t asking to sit for herself. “Of course, Princess,” chorused Argent and Brick as the four ponies moved to the nearest benches. But they don’t know that. He gave his fiancé a quick peck on the cheek. They sat in silence for a time, each alone with their own thoughts. At one point, Argent looked like she might drift off, and Shining was just wondering if she would notice him fetching a blanket for her when the door opened. In a flash, all four were on their feet. Dr. Cortex, and tan unicorn stallion with grey hair, stood in the doorway. He glanced around at the four of them. “Your Highness. Sir Armor,” he said formally. Shining guessed that he’d greeted the others earlier. “How is he, Doctor?” “We should perhaps discuss this inside,” answered the surgeon, stepping aside to let them enter. “Has the family been notified?” he asked as they filed in. “Yes,” answered the Captain of the Guard. “But they live a day’s travel away on the coast.” He turned to face the stallion lying on the bed. A lump rose in his throat. Spearhead didn’t look as bad as some of the other wounded warriors. That was the perverse part. The shock absorbing enchantments in his armor had taken the brunt of the impact, and Spearhead had always had a hearty constitution, to the point that Shining had always kidded him that he was an earth pony in disguise. He sported many bandages, to be sure, but didn’t have the mummified look that several of the other soldiers had had. But not all injuries were obvious, and the bandages around his scalp were deceptively banal in appearance. “What’s the damage, doc?” asked Armor. Cortex adjusted his glasses with a sigh. “Before I answer that, you need to know that brain injuries are rather tricky. Some ponies suffer severe head traumas and make full recoveries. Others suffer what were relatively minor concussions and face debilitating effects for the rest of their lives. I can’t give a definitive answer this early on.” “Well, what can you tell us?” growled Brick, taking a step forward. Argent put a gentle hoof on his withers, and he dipped his head and backed off. The doctor didn’t seem to notice. “Spearhead suffered a massive trauma to the left hemisphere of his brain; the part responsible for control motor functions on the right side of his body, as well as his logical mental functions. Math, science, and the like. I think it would have killed a lesser stallion outright. In his case, well, it’s difficult to say. He may face at least partial paralysis on his right side. It is likely that his logic cognition will be inhibited to some degree; possibly minor, possibly severe. He will almost certainly suffer lapses in memory, errors in basic judgment, and absentmindedness. There is a remote possibility that he will make a full recovery but…” he trailed off and looked down at the stallion. “I think it far more likely that he will suffer at least some minor physical limitations, and will almost certainly have a reduced capacity for logic and reasoning. I doubt it will change his core personality but interactions with him will likely be, well, different.” “Different how?” demanded Argent. “As I said, it’s difficult to say. He may appear more scatter-brained, lose his train of thought, or lose himself in his musings mid-sentence. Or only some symptoms. Or none of them.” Cortex shook his head. “It’s simply too early to be sure. He will survive; that much is certain. And he will almost certainly be able to function as an adult, albeit with limitations. But, I’m afraid he’ll never be a soldier again.” The pronouncement hung in the room like the echoing toll of a death knell. “No.” The others looked in surprise at Shining Armor. “No?” asked Cadence. “No,” repeated Shining Armor. “He’ll always be a soldier. Just a retired one.” Argent and Brick nodded. Cortex dipped his head in a short bow. “You’re right, of course. A fine soldier indeed.” He checked the monitors one last time before heading for the door. “His vitals are stable. I’ll leave you alone with him.” “Thank you, doctor,” said Cadence warmly. The soldiers echoed her with some distraction. Dipping his head once more, Cortex departed. The four regarded their sleeping friend with communal frowns. Eventually, Brick cleared his throat. “Well, that’s all good news, right?” he asked, his voice full of false cheer. “I mean, he’ll be back to being his usual, yappy self in no time, eh? Head in the clouds like always, talking about art?” There was a catch in his voice. “Brick…” said Shining. “He’ll be just fine,” said Brick, turning brusquely for the door. “I need to, ah, file an after action report, or something. I gotta go. Catch you ponies later and— “Brick…” echoed Argent, her voice gentle. “I’m not ready to see him like this,” grated Brick, his voice finally cracking. His chest heaved once in a mighty shudder, and a wet speck fell on the floor. “I’m just… I’m not…” The other three exchanged a glance. “No worries, Brick,” said Shining. “Might as well do that paperwork while it’s fresh, right?” “Yes, Sergeant, do be sure to have it on my desk tomorrow.” “And we expect to see you at the wedding,” added Cadence. Brick swallowed. “Thanks,” he managed before retreating from the room. Argent sighed after he left. “Always a dark day when Brick runs off to do paperwork of all things.” Her gaze fell to the floor. Shining rested a hoof on her withers. “Hey, Argie,” he said, his voice light. She looked up and he smiled, indicating Spearhead with a flick of his head. “He’ll be okay, alright?” She gave him a sad smile. “I know, sir. And I’m grateful for that. Really, I am. I just wish… I just wish.” “I know,” he nodded. “I know.” After a moment’s pause, Argent took a deep breath and straightened up, slipping from beneath his grasp. “Well, I should probably be off as well. Somepony ought to meet Spear’s parents at the train station.” He frowned. “Argie— “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll get cleaned up and take a nap before I head down. Their train isn't due for another six hours anyway. Maybe I’ll collect Brick after his paperwork is done and I've rested. Will you be meeting us down there?” Shining gave a crooked smile. “Count on it.” Argent nodded. She bowed to Cadence, saluted Armor, and cast one last, long look at Spearhead before departing. Now alone, Shining and Cadence stared at their friend for a time. How long they stood, Shining couldn’t tell, but it startled him when his fiancé broke the silence. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. He blinked. “What?” “I know you too well, Shining Armor,” she continued, turning her gaze to face him. “I know you’re blaming yourself for what happened. So I’m telling you: don’t. Chrysalis fooled everypony. She fooled me, she fooled Celestia, in a way she even fooled Twilight. But we won Shining,” she declared, resting a hoof against his cheek. “We won, nopony died today, and that’s thanks to you.” Shining brought a hoof up to cover hers. “It’s thanks to us.” She smiled. “All the same, you did everything you could. You saved hundreds of lives, including his. Now, I didn’t know him as well as you, but I know he wouldn’t blame you for what happened.” He indicated Spearhead with a tilt of her head. “He chose to be a hero today. Let him have that; don’t take that away from him by blaming yourself.” Smiling, he gave his bride-to-be a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you?” “Whatever it was, I’m glad you did it,” she replied with a smile. A smile that quickly turned into a yawn. “I ought to get you home. You’ve been on your hooves too long.” Cadence looked like she was about to object, then nodded when she realized that if he was escorting her home then it probably meant that he’d be turning in soon as well. “Do you want a minute alone?” she asked. “You really do know me too well.” Cadence nodded in understanding. Before she left, she went over to Spearhead’s bedside and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. Once he was alone, he walked to his soldier. Spearhead really did look to be resting peacefully. It could have been worse, Shining Armor reminded himself. “Well,” he began with a sigh, “you always did want to be an artist.” Reaching into his uniform tunic, he pulled out a medal and a sheet of paper stamped with a Royal seal and set both down on the side-table, the medal resting on top like a paperweight. “When you’re out of here, this’ll be here for you.” He snapped a salute. “I expect an invite to your gallery someday, buddy.” And with that, he departed, leaving behind a promissory note from Celestia to enroll Spearhead in the Canterlot School of Fine Arts, held down with the Equestrian Star of Valor.