The sounds of battle and bloodshed were muffled in the Captain-General’s study. But one didn’t need a vast imagination to picture what was accompanying them.
Blueblood shivered and whined beneath Shining Armour’s desk, every sound less than a yard away from the room he was hiding in causing him to jump and cower fitfully, tears running down his cheeks.
Prince Blueblood had never been a terrifically courageous stallion at the best of times, he didn’t mind admitting it. Even at festive occasions, the thought of ruining his grooming in public chilled him to the core.
Why he’d ever thought paying a visit to a military post was a good idea he could scarce attempt to remember.
If he survived this, this would be the last time he’d ever consider such a thing.
Another noise rang from down the corridor. A mare’s scream.
The sudden shrillness caused his ears to ring as he clutched them fearfully.
Raising his hoof off them by half an inch, he listened as the noise became somewhat familiar.
The voice at least, he was certain he’d heard before.
Step by step, Blueblood inched his way to the door, hoping nopony (Or whatever it was that was attacking) would hear the door creaking open.
In the dark corridor, a pony was crawling on the ground, gasping and sobbing.
She looked familiar.
He placed his forehoof on the door and deactivated the magic lock. Wincing as the creak of the door sounded loudly in his ears, he peered outside.
“Hello?”
“B-Blue...Blood...”
The stallion jumped as a mare crawled her way up the corridor.
“Alma Rose?” Blueblood recognised the young painter that his family had hired bare days before it fell apart.
“Blueblood!” the mare gasped “Get...Get help...Please...”
The prince stammered, dumbfounded and gripped by horror.
Alma Rose was missing a back-leg, pulling herself along the ground, trailing blood in a great path down the way she’d come.
“Oh...Celestia...” The stallion gulped and looked about the office for some means of contacting help.
The magical devices still wouldn’t work.
The only way seemed to be...
“I...suppose there’s nothing else for it...” Blueblood held out a hoof “I-I-I think I know the way.”
“Th-thank you...” Alma reached out, hope in her teary eyes.
“There you are!”
Blueblood and Alma both gave a shriek as a white moose strode into view, blue-grey tattoos over his face and body, cradling a mace with jagged, bloody stubs. He tilted his head and smirked as he slowly advanced, savouring the fear of his prey.
“I...er...” Blueblood slowly drew his hoof back. As the moose slammed the mace against the side of the wall in preparation, the prince’s nerve broke entirely, backing away and leaving Alma where she lay.
“I-I-I’ll get help.”
“Wait! Blueblood!”
“I’ll come back as quickly as I can, I promise!” Blueblood stammered as he turned tail.
“No! Don’t leave me here! Please!”
Alma screamed and screamed down the corridor as the stallion took off, disappearing down the corner and leaving her alone with the lone invader.
“Heh...Spineless curd.” the newcomer snorted as he grabbed Alma’s mane, pulling her back down the trail she’d made.
Alma Rose’s hooves frantically clawed at the floor as she was hauled on her one remaining hind-leg and pinned to the wall.
Even on her hind-leg, the moose was able to stare her dead in the face, blood and smoke on his breath and leered.
Alma couldn’t scream anymore. Her voice was hoarse and her heart was completely gripped by terror. She felt faint from shock and blood-loss. She could little more than whimper as the moose sniffed at her neck, his nostrils flaring.
“Good work.” he whispered, drawing a small throwing-axe “You brought them out of hiding...I think you’ve earned a treat.”
“Wh-wha...argh...” The young pegasus whimpered as she felt the axe’s blade glide down her abdomen and over her cutie mark as the moose gave a sadistic purr and slowly licked her cheek.
“P-please...”
“Go on...” he sniggered “Say it. Cry, little mare, cry for your princesses...They’re not coming.”
“Ingvar?!” a voice hollered from up the corridor as hoofsteps sounded “The armoury’s crystal-locked and Grendel’s still in the courtyard. We’ll need...”
A bighorn sheep and a mountain horse approached and stopped in their tracks.
The moose named Ingvar turned to them with an irritated expression.
“What?”
“Ingvar...” the bighorn sheep said slowly, suspicion and wariness on his face “What are you doing?”
The moose raised an eyebrow.
“What does it look like?”
“The Herald said we’re meant to let her go to warn the others and bring them to us.”
“She has. They’ll be coming soon.”
“Ingvar...” the horse spoke, fear in his eyes, hard to make out through the shaggy mane “You know the Herald won’t like this.”
“Yeah...I also know she won’t find out.” He gestured at the two meaningfully with his axe. They backed away with hooves raised.
“Whoa, whoa, Ingvar, we didn’t mean...”
“That’s what I thought.” He snorted “Once I’m done, I’ll bring a survivor to open the armoury...Might even bring her along so you can have a turn. But just remember...My axe is faster than the Herald’s.”
The newcomers looked at him, then Alma, then at each other.
“Right...” the mountain horse mumbled “Um...Don’t take too long.”
And they departed in an awkward shuffle, leaving Alma alone with the depraved captor once more.
She broke down in a small sob as the moose turned his gaze back to her, smiling a grey and yellow grin, his dark eyes gleaming.
“Now...where were we?”
Blueblood had surprised himself with his own strength at wrenching a small crystal hammer off a statue, no doubt of one of the Crystal Emperors of old. Hiding behind a curtain round a corner from Shining’s office, trying to stop himself shaking, he listened to Alma’s cries and Ingvar’s sick taunts as an act he dreaded to think about prepared to take place.
Shaking his head and shutting his eyes tight, he tried to block it out.
‘Just keep calm...The guard will probably arrive soon. They’ll save Alma, they’ll deal with that cur and all will be well.’
“Don’t do this! Please!” came a scream from round the corner.
He caught something in his throat.
‘It’s not like you can help in any case.’ he forced the words into his head ‘They’re hardened killers. You won’t last a minute and then where will she be? Just wait for the guard!’
Alma’s cries grew more angered and Ingvar gave what may have been a grunt of pain.
“GET THE BUCK OFF ME!” she screamed.
“You want to lose another leg, girly?” he hissed.
‘There, you see. She’s fighting back. It’ll be fine...Look, what’s she got to offer you anyway?! You don’t need money and she’s not even into stallions! What possible reason would you have to...’
‘One day, Blueblood...You will be a prince.’
The voice in his head was not his own. He stopped, his mind taken to a grey place he’d tried in vain to forget for years.
‘Mummy?’
‘But always remember, Blueblood. A prince must be strong and not just for himself.’ The soothing, gentle voice was somehow overpowering any nagging doubt or fear ‘There is a reason why the prince is always the hero of all the stories.’
“Mother...” he whimpered.
‘The prince will go where king and queen cannot. They’re never afraid to fight for the good of those who look up to them.’
“Mother, please...”
‘They give hope to those who have none. You gave hope to me, to my family, and you will one day give hope to all of Equestria.’
The crystal hammer felt somewhat lighter in his hoof.
“Mother, this isn’t the same...”
‘Be the prince you were born to be, my foal. Bring pride to all who know your name...bring hope.’
His hoof tightened round the handle of the hammer, his eyes opened wide in a steely resolve previously unknown to him.
‘Blueblood, you’ve finally lost your senses!’ the previous voice said in his head.
Only this time, Blueblood wasn’t listening.
He wouldn’t leave her alone.
Alma was kicking out with all three hooves that remained to her, biting whenever she could, but the moose wasn’t to be put off.
It was as if she was barely bruising him.
Ingvar’s hoof lashed out and slugged her viciously across the face. Her lip bled on the cold marble floor, her eyes shut as she felt the moose tug at her mane.
“Are you going to behave?” the beast’s voice was close to her ear.
Following the sound, Alma threw a punch of her own. It landed, colliding with the side of the moose’s muzzle.
His own hoof snapped around it as he slowly turned his head, an angry scowl above his dripping red nostrils.
“Do you honestly have a death-wish?” he sounded more bored than angry. Drawing his axe again, he rested against the fetlock of the forehoof that had punched him “Do you want to lose this?”
Alma stared, her breath weak and shaky. She knew there was no answer she could give that wouldn’t end in pain.
Slowly, gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and tight and tried to wake up from whatever nightmare she’d found herself trapped within.
“Is that a yes?”
As the axe slowly drew across the surface of her fetlock, Alma gave a whimper as drops of her own blood spattered onto her face from where she lay, her foreleg held high before her captor’s gaze as Ingvar gave a sadistic smile.
Then his ears pricked. Her whimper was joined by something else.
A clatter of hooves.
And a yell.
“SANGUINE HALL!”
Ingvar turned his head right as the crystal hammer struck home, cracking into the side of his face. Knocked senseless, he slammed into the wall, bruising the other side of his face near as badly.
Breathing heavily, nursing her bleeding fetlock, Alma Rose slowly looked up dumbfounded at Prince Blueblood who was staring at the crystal hammer in his magical grasp then at the prone Ingvar.
A stunned smile broke into his face.
“Heh...Ha! Ha-Ha! You weren’t expecting that, were you!” he yelled giddily at the unconscious moose “Did you know who you were dealing with?! I think not! Next time you’ll think twice before going up against...”
“Blueblood...” Alma whimpered.
“Yes! Blueblood! Prince Blueblood!” the stallion cheered, waving his forehooves in the air enthusiastically “Noble! Champion! Genius!”
“Dead pony.”
“Dead pony! Leade...ah...oh...” Blueblood’s cheer was cut short as he realised who had spoken.
The mountain horse and bighorn sheep from before had returned, along with a cohort of fellow snow-beasts, all glaring at the posturing prince whose ardour swiftly diminished. Pale-faced, he looked at his downed foe and gulped.
“Uh...Now, chaps...um...If you’re curious...he was like that when I got here...” he whimpered.
They did not seem convinced.
“Maybe he uh...had a few too many at the...eh...” the Prince continued in vain before snatching up the hammer and gesturing with it meaningfully.
“Stay back, sirs, I’m armed!”
There was a clattering sound as the beasts before him demonstrated much the same, drawing all manner of unfriendly-looking weaponry.
Blueblood gave a whimper as his crystal hammer fell from his grasp.
“Run away, little pony.” the bighorn sheep growled.
The stallion looked at the sheep, then at Alma, then at the hammer.
“I...shall not.” Blueblood’s voice was shaky and strangulated but he spoke clearly, picking up the hammer again and holding it out “You are not getting past me, sirs. I...strongly suggest you leave.”
“Blueblood...” Alma murmured weakly, slumped against the wall “Just...go...”
“No.” he said, sterner, harder “This time...I will not be a coward. Just this once...I’ll be a prince”
“You’ll be a dead prince.” the mountain horse sneered.
“That is...quite likely...But I won’t be a cowardly one.” he shivered “N-n-now...I suggest you all leave...or...something very bad will happen.”
“Yeah...it will.” The bighorn sheep drew a great jagged blade and stepped forward.
Frozen with either fear or resolution, Blueblood closed his eyes. Alma’s call for him was faint in his ears as he tried to force his mind back to happier days, one final thought in his head.
“You see, mother...I was brave...Just this once."
“Everypony get down!”
Blueblood was jerked out of his pre-death amends as Alma lurched forward and managed to drag him to the floor.
Flat on his back, he stared as a curling tongue of pineapple-coloured magic flew over him.
A magic whip.
It hit the bighorn sheep first in the chest, then curled round towards every beast standing before them. Time seemed to slow for a moment as the warriors were taken off their hooves one by one. Then with a collective scream, they were shot down the corridors as a siren strode into view.
A bright honey-yellow siren with a great curly mane like golden sea-foam, baring her teeth at the attackers.
“You’ve been very naughty beasties.” she growled “Time for punishment!”
As the foes from the Frozen North struggled to gather themselves, she turned to the two stragglers with concern and hollered down the corridor.
“Down here! Shield wall, cover the healers!”
Armoured guards thundered down forward, dressed in brass and red jasper, bearing large shields and deadly pikes, helms adorned with a golden setting-sun above their visors.
The first line slammed their shields upon the floor, followed by the next line who placed their shields atop theirs as Adagio growled an order.
“Any creatures that get through me are all yours.”
Dressed in her white and blue cloak and agate circlet, Lemon Hearts cantered down the corridor, a trio of white-armoured healers behind her. The crashing of battle rang in her ears as she headed down the corridors.
The Crystal Guard and the Capital Reinforcements were striking back hard against these mystery attackers.
Someone screamed. She couldn’t tell which side. Adagio Dazzle’s whip cracked like a thunderbolt again and again, its tail snaking madly up and down beyond the shield wall.
She found the absent Prince Blueblood, a high priority escort. There was a pony atop him, obscured by blood. Whether the pony was wounded or dead was uncertain.
“Healers!” Blueblood had found his voice at last “Where are the damned healers!”
Lemon rushed forward and pulled him behind cover. Checking him over, her ears pricked as the groan from the other wounded pony sounded familiar.
“Lem...Lemmy...”
“ALMA!” The yellow unicorn gave a scream and swept up the near-broken figure of her girlfriend, clutching her tightly as her horn glowed violet, a healing field staunching the blood flow of the young pegasus’s wounds.
“Lem...It hurts...” Alma Rose whimpered as Lemon Hearts cradled her.
“I know, Alma. It’s okay. I’m here...I’m here...” she whispered. A nearby officer, a tall, shapely hazel-brown mare with freckles helped up the couple along with Blueblood before casting her eye over the shield wall.
“You may head to the Infirmary. It’s still very secure. We’ll be fine here.”
“Thanks, Chastity.” Lemon murmured, hoisting Alma upon her back, kissing her gently on the cheek as they cantered back down the corridor, the sounds of battle growing fainter.
“Um...ma’am?” Blueblood asked tentatively.
“You’ll be safe in the infirmary, sir. I promise.”
“No, no, it’s not that.” the prince gave a slight wince “You haven’t seen my valet anywhere? Conkers? Large ruddy-brown pegasus? I sent him to get me a drink. Have you passed him?”
“Not...since the attack, no.” She caught sight of the stallion’s expression. It was more than just general worry, this valet meant something to him “You sent him to get a drink? He’ll be around the canteen. We’ve just about secured that point. Stand still...” As her horn lit up, the floor around Blueblood shone a bright purple before he teleported out of the corridor.
Sighing, Lemon Hearts gave her near-comatose partner a tender nuzzle before returning on the path to the infirmary.
*
“You honestly never told Miss Cheerilee you don’t know the first thing about long division?”
Applebloom sighed as she and her elder brother made their way back to the family farm.
“Okay, in mah defence, it’s not that ah don’t know...I just never had it taught to me.” Big Mac gave her a bashful look and patted her back “Ah’m sorry, Bloom. Ah didn’t mean to embarrass ya, ah just...”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Ya didn’t embarrass me.” the filly gave him a small hug “Just felt a bit awkward, that’s all.”
The big stallion chuckled.
“Don’cha worry none. It’s just for this week, Cheerilee should be awright soon.” Reaching the door to their ever-welcoming home, Mac and Bloom strode in and found Granny Smith patiently reading in her rocking chair, greeting them with a warm but toothless smile.
“Howdy, yer two.” she cooed “An’ how did the schoolin’ go?”
Little sister and elder brother gave each other a bashful look and shrugged. Their granny gave a chuckle and clambered out her chair.
“Well, Bloom’ll wanna’ unpack an’ relax ah’ll reckon. Ah’ll be up to have a look at yer work in a moment or two. First things first, ah’ve gotta’ have a talk with yer brother.”
“Okay.” Bloom chirped as she tottered upstairs, leaving the huge red stallion with his grandmother. Mac turned to Granny Smith and realised she wasn’t smiling.
There were several times he could remember Granny Smith had been openly peeved with him over the years but this was a look that was different than the others.
Was it...disappointment?
Before he could ask what the matter was, Granny Smith opened her near-toothless mouth and spoke flatly and humourlessly.
“Come with me.”
They made their way to his room, a room he’d barely stepped in since Cheerilee’s attack.
Granny Smith made her way to his bed and sat down broodingly, reaching under his pillow and retrieving a small letter, not turning to face him. Giving the hoof that held it a flick, it opened and read...
Big McIntosh
It is time
Granny Smith pursed her lips with ire as she spoke at last.
“Care to explain, sonny?”
Mac caught something in his throat, nearly stepping back in shock.
“...Ah didn’t know you’d been in my room.” He hadn’t meant that to come out like an accusation.
“An’ ah didn’t know I needed to be. ‘Til now...”
The atmosphere was growing in a way Mac did not like at all.
“G-Granny...It’s not what it looks like.”
“Really?” she tilted her head with a slight creak “An’ what does it look like? Like ya’ve grown tired of yer silly little family farm an’ yer silly little family? Like ya’ll was plannin’ on up n’ leavin’ just outta’ the blue? Like ya was hopin’ yer brain-dead ol’ granny never to notice?”
“No! No, I...” Mac’s usual stoicism was crumbling around him. He felt like a colt again, scolded and shamed with no idea of the full weight of his actions “Granny, please...ah don’t have a choice.”
“An’ that’s where yer wrong.” Granny Smith got to her hooves and stepped towards him slowly, her stern face etched into her features.
“Ya got two choices, Mac, an’ ah suggest you listen to ‘em carefully.” She held up a forehoof and balanced herself on her walking stick “One...Ya can stay here, on this farm that’s been yer family’s haven since their first days here with yer family and its ages-old profession, among the ponies who’ve looked out for ya from the moment ya came into this world, on this farm...where ya belong!” her voice grew loud and harsh, causing her grandson to shut her eyes tight and flinch as she stood inches from him.
“Or...”
Mac slowly opened his eyes as he felt an old hoof gently place itself on his shoulder.
Granny Smith’s stern features were gone. In their place was the warm smile that had brightened his life since its beginning. A smile of encouragement...Of pride.
She spoke
“Ya can go out there an’ do what ya’ve always dreamed o’ doin’, even before yer sister was out doin’ the same. Ya can go out there an’ help this little town and all the land around it by doing more than just pullin’ a plough. Ya can go out there, give those varmints who hurt Cheerilee an’ Caramel an’ Berry Punch an’ all the rest a proper Apple family beatdown...an’ make us all mighty proud of Big McIntosh Apple.”
There was a pause as Mac collected himself, the icy guilt from before melting away from his great red shoulders.
“G-Granny?”
“Come on now, Mac. Ah’m old, not blind.” she gave a throaty chuckle “Ah see the look ya give old AJ when she goes off for adventurin’. Ya’ve always wanted to do more, even for just a little while. It’s...a hankerin’ that comes to all us Apples now an’ again, even lil’ ol’ me. An’ ah know ya’ve got in ya to be exactly what ya wanna’ be.” she gave his shoulder a fond pat “So if ya wanna’ go through with this...ah won’t fault ya.”
“...Thank you.” As if falling to earth, Mac wrapped her forehooves around his grandmother and hugged her.
“But jus’ remember, boy...It ain’t no walk in the fields. Use this...” she gave the side of his head a tap with her hoof “...before ya use these...” she patted his forelegs. “An’ both come after this.” she rested her hoof over his heart “Remember that good.”
“Ah will, Granny. Ah promise.”
“An’ come back home safe. That’s all ah’m gonna’ insist on.” the old mare looked at him earnestly “It’s bad enough AJ’s down in the outskirts. Ah hear iffy stuff ‘bout those places. Ah don’t wanna’ lose either of ya, y’hear? Ya promise?”
Mac smiled and stood to his full height.
“Eeyup.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She gave a sigh “You do what ya need to do, mah brave old colt.” The old mare reached up and gave him a dry but warm kiss on the cheek “Jus’ come back home safe when yer done.”
*
As Cadence’s hooves trembled, she hoped Flurry wouldn’t wake up.
Not because she wanted her quiet but because she didn’t want her crying.
That would make two of them.
As she quietly cradled her snoozing baby, tears fell down her cheeks, landing as damp little spots on Flurry’s baby-cloth, the stillness and silence of the abandoned throne room weighed on her like a looming shadow.
Every slight noise made her jolt.
She still couldn’t quite believe how quickly the day had turned so dreadful.
Only moments ago...
Flurry Heart’s high-pitched laughter brought a tender smile to her mother’s face.
At the end of the day, motherhood was wonderful. Flurry Heart had learned much from her family and she was far calmer than her earliest months, realising to some extent the importance of controlling her inborn powers.
But Flurry, like every baby, just wanted to play sometimes and, whenever possible, Cadence made time for it.
It had been a hectic couple of months for all concerned but, at last, things had settled down and her daughter always found a way to brighten up Cadence’s day.
She giggled herself as she glided over to a cardboard box, still brightly wrapped from a birthday gift a few months ago, where Flurry Heart had scuttled under.
“Gotcha!” she cheered, throwing off the box. Pausing, she took note of the absence of her daughter, or anything for that matter.
“Flurry?” she called out, growing slightly worried.
There came a squeal of excitement from behind some of the books on the great shelf. The smile returning to her features, Cadence made a show of pacing by the shelf.
“Where did she go?” she gasped “Did she disappear? Did she turn invisible? She always was a fast learner? Where oh where could she be?”
She isolated the area producing Flurry’s giggles and raised a ready hoof to grab her and unleash the tickle-monster upon her daughter.
Without warning, there was a flash in front of her. Instinctively, she shut her eyes tight.
When she opened them, she found her hoof had landed on the tip of Starlight Glimmer’s muzzle.
The newly-materialised unicorn gave an awkward glance as Cadence resisted a chance to cry out ‘boop’.
“Um...hello.”
“Princess. Sorry about this, I came here as quickly as I could.” Starlight spoke, wide-eyed and out of breath “Me and Sunburst. We’ve been working on war preparations and...and...we discovered something bad, really bad!”
“Wh-what? What is it?” Cadence stammered as Flurry Heart tentatively crawled out of her hiding spot and tottered into her mother’s forehooves.
Starlight held up an intricate crystal device, a tall, many-sided prism of aquamarine fastened with silver inlays shaped like twisting nettles. A farsight pillar, a device perfected by the Crystal Empire and recently introduced to Equestria after the Empire’s resurgence.
“We’ve been tracking their use of anti-magic weaponry, your highness.” Starlight said, placing the pillar on the table “It was the only thing we considered a calling card of theirs. So, using the Crystal Empire’s technology, we’re able to pinpoint sudden and massive uses of anti-magic. And recently, we found one. A big one! One...very close by.” She shone her horn, still slightly woozy from the teleport.
The crystal projected a great glassy flare that warped and ebbed to form a map, zooming into the Crystal Empire and tracking the presence of a blinking grey blot.
Right above Quartzwald.
Cadence’s mouth opened and closed silently in shock before one, strangulated word emerged.
“Sh-Sh-Shining!”
“Your highness, before we do anything...irrational...” Starlight interjected “Sunset Shimmer has assembled a small elite team and we believe she can counter the anti-magic long enough to teleport there. In the meantime, I’ve already sent word to reinforcements. Commodore Ctenophore is heading to Quartzwald with a flying force of four hundred. Whether that will be enough...is uncertain.”
“I...I...Thank you...Please, gather the court, I-I-I need to send more troops.” Cadence stammered, shakily making her way to the door.
“Princess Cadence.” Starlight declared before the alicorn left the room, face heavy with uncertainty “Don’t do anything rash.”
“I don’t have a choice! Shining’s down there! And Blueblood and Lemon Hearts and Alma and...”
“I know, your highness, I know. What I’m saying is be mindful.” Starlight held up a hoof in reassurance “Remember, these guys want to spread us thin. The methods we’re used to won’t work here. This could either be the big go-ahead or just another distraction. Don’t let down your guard...We’ve already seen what he can do.”
She would not forget what he could do.
The memory of that horrible gas-mask hanging from her door.
Seven years and it still stung whenever she recalled it.
Those horrible red eyes.
The knife through the photograph.
No Interference.
In her moments of dread, she had prayed that whoever had done such things had died long ago, lost and forgotten.
Now it seemed, her entire world was in danger.
Flurry gave a little contented purr in her mother’s forelegs as she snoozed, unaware of the danger.
And, Cadence hoped with all her heart, protected from it.
*
Hoof and talon slammed into each other as the Wonderbolt Captain flew forward and clashed with the griffon matriarch.
Shrike Slashtalon gave a piercing avian hiss, her beak still dripping blood, as the trainee she’d been trying to cannibalise was thrown to the ground. Her great wings extending to their full size, a pair of huge mahogany-brown colossi with black and white dapples, she leapt back a full ten feet and adopted a predatory stance, her black tiger back-half pawing predatorily along the ground, tail swaying, claws out. Her forelegs clawed at the ground before reaching behind her back, retrieving a menacing flail. Three spiked spheres dangled from chains, knocking against each other with a sound not unlike rattling bones.
The griffon gave another hiss and spoke.
“Ah...The Wonderbolts. I haven’t seen that ridiculous garb since the last skirmishes of the Raptor Wars...I must have killed about thirty-seven of them myself.”
“Well, if you’re hoping to break that record, I’m afraid things are a little different now!”
“Oh, indeed.” Slashtalon cackled, her beak clacking mockingly “Once, you were the pride of pegasus skies, defenders, monster-hunters, heroes all. Now look at you! Jokes of the Equestrian Defence Force, flattened in damn near every conflict in modern history!” she gave a snorting noise through the slits in her beak that make a griffon’s nostrils “I once gained such pleasure in tearing your kind apart...now I just feel bad for you.”
“Oh really?” Spitfire gritted her teeth as the tips of her primary feathers flickered with flame. Her hooves scraped along the ground.
Slashtalon blinked.
The next moment, the griffon was stumbling across the ground, clawing at the soil for balance and nursing the side of her face, the hissing from her beak becoming a deafening snarl as Spitfire stood right where her opponent had once stood, her forehoof held out and wreathed in flame.
The pegasus raised an eyebrow.
“How about now?”
“No, I think that did it.” the griffon growled before leaping at the Wonderbolt Captain with a feral screech.
A whirlwind of talons slammed into Spitfire who brought the gauntlets around her forehooves up into a criss-cross, her neck craning quickly from side to side as the griffon’s beak shot forward like a spearhead again and again. Spinning and ducking, she landed ferocious punches against the avian’s chest and face before flapping backwards and letting loose a flurry of bolts from the calk-cannons on her forehooves.
Slashtalon’s talons turned into a silver blur, catching the bolts, groaning and hissing as a few select shots found their mark, cutting and piercing her limbs and shoulders. Spinning the wheel of the cannon, Spitfire charged an explosive shot.
A moment later, the ground rushed up to meet her, her ears ringing, the back of her head throbbing. Lightning Dust had seen fit to continue their earlier fight and delivered a vicious punch to the back of Spitfire’s head.
‘Spits, you idiot!’ the Wonderbolt Captain cursed herself ‘Never turn your back on an enemy. Rule Number 1!’
As she struggled to her hind-legs, her wings flapping about impatiently,
‘Crunk!’
A shattering jolt of pain erupted at the side of her shoulder, spinning her round dizzily. A swooping sound filled her ears as she barely ducked out of the way of Slashtalon’s flail.
“Captain!” Angel Wings called out from above, locked in battle with a gas-masked halberd-wielder.
“Spitfire!” Soarin yelled as he knocked aside his opponent, a blackbird-headed griffon, and made to dive down to her aid, followed by three others.
“Get away!” their captain bellowed, clutching her shoulder “You’re no match for her!”
“She’s right. You’re not.” Slashtalon added, eying them hungrily “But please, dearies, feel free not to take her word for it!”
At this, Lightning Dust stood over Spitfire and grabbed her by the throat, holding her head between her forelegs and leered up at the Wonderbolts vindictively.
“Hey! Wannabes! You wanna’ see how many ‘loop-de-loops’ Spits’s head can do?!”
Spitfire struggled against her captor’s grip as she saw Soarin growl and lunge forward. Slashtalon’s flail sailed round, aiming straight for the flying stallion’s head.
Like a sudden pale-teal jet, Vapor Trail set about earning her name as she shot forward. Not at Lightning Dust or Slashtalon but the flail head, just avoiding colliding with Soarin as she smacked the spiked ball away with both outstretched forelegs, sending it back towards its wielder.
Shrike Slashtalon had just enough time for a startled cluck before the flail shot into her chest. Her hardy breastplate avoided fatal damage but it did nothing to avoid knocking her to the ground, leaving her wheezing with pain.
Distracted, Spitfire’s elbow knocked into the side of Lightning’s jaw, pulling herself away as the full-figure of Soarin smashed into her, sending her flying through mid-air, clattering to the ground in a heap.
Captain Spitfire rose to her hooves and glared at the traitor.
“Don’t...You...Ever...Call my team ‘Wannabes’!”
Slashtalon meanwhile was beset upon by Fleetfoot, Angel Wings and Thunderlane who flew around her, two of them guarding against her talons while the third would go for the weak-spot. Vapor Trail nursed her forehoof, broken by the flail, as Sky Stinger fought off any who sought to finish her off.
Across the clouds, the Wonderbolts were proving their worth. Somewhere among the fray, one of the missiles hit home, sending griffons and gas-mask wearers flying.
Grinding her teeth, eyes blazing, she and Soarin advanced towards the scrambling Lightning Dust.
“Hurting innocents was your fatal flaw, Lightning...Now it looks like it’s become your hobby.” Spitfire growled, cracking her fetlocks “Let’s see you fun you find it from the other side!”
The electric-maned pony snarled and gave a signal. There was a thumping sound as another silo of gas was fired. Lightning Dust adjusted her gas mask but her threat was clear.
“This ain’t over, nags! We’re gonna’ get even! And then we’re gonna’ make that googly-eyed freak wish she’d never been born!”
As the bomb hit the ground, the figure of Lightning Dust was obscured by the mist as the two pegasi drew back. Behind them, Slashtalon wrenched the bolts out of her shoulder and screeched loudly. With a cacophony of caws and warbles, the griffons shot into the skies and took to the wing, followed by their pony allies, high into the clouds until they’d disappeared from sight.
Letting loose an exhausted sigh, Spitfire turned to check on the wounded cadet, Angel Wings readying to apply first aid.
It wasn’t pretty. The cadet’s shoulder had received a deep hole bored into it that was nearly an inch wide and at least four inches deep.
Stopping the flow of blood was the work of a moment but it fell to Spitfire to calm her.
“Kid. You okay? We’re here. The griffon’s gone. Are you with me.”
The cadet gave something between a groan and a whimper.
“C-Cap’n...is it...is it bad?”
“Nothing you can’t handle, kid. Don’t worry. The worst’s over.” Spitfire gave her a pat on the shoulder, nodding to Angel Wings who picked up the cadet and headed back to Canterlot with an escort of three, the injured Vapor Trail among them with Sky Stinger beside.
“Okay...” The captain brushed her fiery mane “We finish our patrol. Then call it in and tell the Princesses. If these guys can spring out of the clouds this close to home...We may already be looking at all-out war.”
*
Four shaky pink hooves found their balance on the road outside the garrison.
Agravain tilted his head as the Bearer of Laughter stood upright before him as he continued spell-singing.
Lolli, meanwhile, fumbled in her backpack with one hoof, still struggling to stand.
Whipping it out, she revealed a colossal portable music player coloured various shades of red.
Peregrine, fighting the weight of his own sudden, colossal fatigue among his guards, gave a befuddled look.
“How...never mind. Whatever you’re doing, do it fast!”
Pinkie straightened up and took a strange stance as Lolli hit the play button and did the same.
Sound Magic was complex in practice but quite simple in theory.
Sonic waves could be sent out or repelled with the right amount of force.
When fighting with music, immersion was key to creating a series of sounds that would overpower strength and strategy.
The more mnemonic and fluid it was, the more effective it could be used as a weapon of anti-personnel, interfering with the focus and thought of the foe.
And for a force such as the one Agravain possessed, only the most insufferable yet catchy song would ever be able to combat it.
And Pinkie was something of an expert in that sort of music.
The instant the music started, Pinkie and Lolli began dancing in perfect synch, every beat a different movement, the ground pounding and pulsing as they stomped and clapped.
Agravain’s calm face twisted suddenly as his focus was dented from within, singing louder and slower in an attempt to wrest control of the sonic energy at work. At his signal, Mustaleski and her mercenaries took aim and opened fire.
The music grew louder and the dancing harder.
A great swirling miasma of pinks and scarlets enveloped them and the guard in a protective field, bouncing the bullets away harmlessly.
The speechless Crystal Pony was practically bellowing the song now, his crimson eyes bulging with fury.
Pinkie’s great mane bounced like cotton-candy as she jived. Lolli’s wings arched with the wind as if it were an ornate collar.
It was mesmerising, breathtaking.
Yet nopony could stay long to see it.
With a final bounce, both dancing mares slammed all four hooves upon the ground. The miasma exploded outwards, throwing the mercenaries back against the street and bringing Agravain to his knees.
Peregrine took to the wing and yelled.
“Right, everyone spread out. We’re taking back this city!”
The winged guard took off as Mustaleski signalled for her cohorts to fire. A raised hoof from Agravain halted them before the first shot could be taken.
The silent stallion fixed the Bearer of Laughter with a steely glare before gesturing to the alleyways. Mustaleski gave an indignant scowl but knew better than to argue.
Scuttling into the darkness of the streets, the mercenaries disappeared. Agravain’s face turned somewhat calm again as he bowed his head, perhaps with respect, at Pinkie and Lolli before his forehoof rose, trailing a primrose powder which he tossed to the ground, vanishing in a bright cloud. An alchemist’s trick.
Alone, the two mares switched off the music, gave a combined ‘whoo’ of exhaustion and hoof-bumped.
“Go Lolli.” Pinkie gasped.
“Go Pinkie” Lolli sighed.
“Okie-dokie...I’m looking for the rest of the girls.” The Bearer of Laughter cracked her hooves in eagerness “This city looks like its ready to party hard.”
*
A gilded horseshoe tapped frantically on the great quartz node as the three spheres of lapis lazuli, jasper and malachite refused to swirl in synch. Contact with Boulette and the Bearers within was not feasible.
Princess Celestia hung her head with exhaustion and distress.
“Come on...blast it, come on...”
“Princess, I really would stop, or at least pause. This cannot be good for you.”
“That’s not what’s important right now!”
At her bellow, the entire room appeared to shake.
Even such a resolute stallion as the one before her nearly quaked at the spectacle.
Celestia immediately regretted such an outburst and begun breathing deeply and speaking quietly.
“I’m sorry, Fancypants. I didn’t mean to...I’m just...”
“I-I-It’s quite alright, your highness. I can understand your stress, wholeheartedly. But we’re doing all we can to reverse the anti-magic field and track it. Patience will pay off.”
“But how long will it take before...” Celestia shook her head, unable to complete her sentence “Dear mother Laurelore...Twilight, Spike, Pinkie, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Fluttershy...They’re all over there. Trapped, surrounded...Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?”
“I’m afraid the anti-magic makes teleportation impossible.” Fancypants explained “In the Crystal Empire, the magic of gemstones can negate the anti-magic but in Boulette, it is quite impossible to overpower it through the means we’re used to. We would need to send reinforcements by hoof which would take at least two days. We are trying to contact the neighbouring cities but we’re unsure if they can even hear us.”
The great pearly alicorn shut her eyes tight, tiny droplets of tears falling to the marble floor, before she suddenly turned and slapped her forelegs against the wall. Fancypants jumped as the sound of sobbing escaped his princess.
“I’m a fool!” she wept between grief and anger “I’m a huge damn fool! What was I thinking?! Sending the Bearers alone into a warzone! I...I...”
“Princess, please, you know that’s not true.” Fancypants reached out and gently held her shoulder “They’ve braved worse scrapes than this. And Boulette has an army and an Equestrian garrison. I’m certain they’ll fight them off.” his voice wavered “There...may well be a heavy cost in this but...I’m very sure we’ll pull through. Twilight is a strong girl, Celestia, one you’ve every reason to be proud of. And the Bearers are beside her every step. They’ll find a way through this. This is indeed a terrifying time. But friendship like theirs has always been a great conduit for courage in all who behold it.”
The weeping stopped. Celestia placed all hooves back on the floor and slowly turned, a heavy smile on her face as Fancypants produced a handkerchief to dry her tears.
“Dear old Fancy.” she said quietly, hope resurfacing in her voice “You’ve always found ways to keep me together at times like this.”
“I doubt I’ve have lasted so long at court if I didn’t, your highness, if I may say.” the gentlecolt chuckled “I’m told it was a skill of my mother’s as well, back when she was Chairmare.”
Celestia’s smile grew all the more wider.
“If there was a pony I’ve known in the last fifty years who I could see as a mother...it was her.”
Alicorns were a strange race. With endless and uncertain age, they could turn from elders to youths in the blink of an eye.
Great power came with all its burdens, far too many for one pony to bare alone whatever their race.
She’d known many Chairponies but struggled to remember each one.
Petticoat, however, she’d never forget.
The thought brought her to a dark place.
“Fancypants.” her tone turned firm “Please ensure our experts can do all they can. I...have to see somepony.”
“Very well. May I...know who this pony is?”
‘The one responsible for all this madness’ Celestia thought darkly, her mind gripped in an oncoming mass of fiery smog.
“I’m afraid this must remain a royal affair, sir.”
“As you wish but if we need to contact you, where will you be.”
The Princess stopped a moment, took a breath and spoke without turning.
“Invitro Hall.”
*
The great red stallion had followed the map exactly. While complex mathematics weren’t his forte, maps were clear as crystal to him.
The map itself had been hidden in the envelope that had carried the letter. In fact, it was the inside of the envelope itself. Opening it up fully, revealed the location.
Nopony would find this place.
As soon as the stone door had rolled aside, the newcomer beheld a great cavern in torchlight, filled by a gathering of both strange and familiar faces. Ms Harshwhinny, Bonbon and Fleur de Lis were practicing sparring with one another with wooden weaponry, landing swift, graceful strikes upon the blades. Iron Will was teaching a few other ponies wrestling techniques with a dummy, nearly breaking its limbs in some cases.
And just beside him, three dark, hooded ponies in armour walked past, nearly bumping into him.
Glancing at them, he nearly blanched as he noticed they were carrying a severed head.
One of them, a blue mare with a white ponytail and sharp canines, cast him a suspicious eye and growled.
“What are you looking at?!”
“Come along, Wolf.” the leader said dourly as they departed without another word.
The red stallion shook his head, unsure of what he’d just seen.
“Big McIntosh.”
At the iconic voice, the stallion instinctively turned and knelt as the graceful, enigmatic form of Princess Luna strode forward and glaced a silver-clad forehoof upon his shoulder.
“I thank thee for thine service here. Thine dedication shalt serve us well. Welcome, Big McIntosh...” she spread her wings and cast her forehoof across the workings of her organisation.
“...to Darkhorse.”