//------------------------------// // 52- The Scarlet Dawn // Story: Changing Expectations // by KKSlider //------------------------------// I tore down the halls with Oest and Weevil at my heels. Time had become the most valuable resource in existence, and I was out of it. ‘Chrysalis knows about the insurrection! I have to get the First Fang to safety before she acts first, the element of surprise is lost!’ The distant rumbling of the match between the two monarchs had ceased long ago. Chrysalis had won, and was preemptively trying to stop my survival. With Eucharis and Scorpion out of the way, hopefully I was the only one with real support. ‘How many Praetorians could she have rallied? With my luck, the answer is ‘a lot.’’ I slowed down enough only to check that my two followers were still following me. They didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping up. That was probably due to the fact that I had only been flying for less than a year, and they had years of experience. I was probably slowing them down, in fact. ‘.... Would I be able to go faster if I was galloping on the ground?’ As we neared our destination, I heard something that only drove me to fly faster. I barely remembered to keep holding God-Splitter in my grip as I flew, so focused was my mind on getting to the rendezvous as soon as possible. I had heard the sound of distant fighting. ‘The changelings at the rendezvous are under attack!’ When I turned the last corner before reaching the foyer, I saw Praetorians with their backs to me. They were group casting shield spells, slowly moving forwards out of the hallway and into the foyer. It was hard to make out what was past them, but I guessed that it was my loyal Lodge members as well as the First Fang. Oest and Weevil set down next to me as we peeked around the corner. “Plan,” I began hastily, ”is that I go in, you two follow. We get our boys, we get out. Then, the Nine and us three will go hit Chrysalis directly. Good? Good. On me!” Every second that I spent talking was a second the Lodge members had to endure under attack. So, I channeled my inner Leeroy, and charged forward. I brought God-Splitter up before me as I charged. I closed in the distance between us and the loyalists nearly silently as I flew forward. But then I saw that the Praetorians were stepping over something. As I got closer, I saw that the advancing soldiers were stepping over bodies. Changeling bodies lying in puddles of blood and chitin shards. My loyal lings, laying dead on the tiles in a war that is being fought non-lethally. ‘Those fuckers are going lethal?! If that’s the way they want to do this!’ I screamed as I charged, “FOR THE HIVE ETERNAL!” The changelings in the rear turned towards me as I swung God-Splitter. I could see the stunned looks on their faces when God-Splitter went right through three of them. The first was nearly split in two as their barrel was caved in. The next two were hit by the full momentum of the hammer plus the guards next to them. “Behind!” A Praetorian in front of me yelled. I couldn’t tell who said that. I couldn’t bring myself to care. They attempted to bring up a shield, not exactly realizing who it was attacking their rear. It would take them a moment or two to realize that there’s only one changeling facing them who could yell over the Weave, but that was a moment I used to the fullest extent. The shield lasted all of three seconds before I swung God-Splitter once more, taking down two more Praetorians. The rest of the changelings in front of me, roughly eight total at this end of the hall, started to space themselves out as they began going on the offensive. Acid sprays, fire bolts, and more than enough focus will shots all hit me and bounced off at first my shield and then the protective shield embedded in my peytral. Oest and Weevil shot past me as I sent forth a barrage of ice spears, the spell matrix so familiar that I could rapidly cast them one after another. They each charged at a target on either side of the hall as I followed right behind, going after a changeling in the center. I formed a casing of rock around my right hoof as I punched one changeling, swinging God-Splitter around at another. They retaliated with an illusion spell to make me hit thin air as well as a stream of directed fire. I felt my peytral start to heat up as the green shield that flickered into existence around me took the brunt of the spell and channeled its energy to the nine sapphires embedded in the piece of armor. My swing had gone wide, having been temporarily blinded by the fire. Instead of going for them once again, I pulled God-Splitter back and above me before slamming it down onto the ground. The resulting shockwave cracked and upturned the stone tiled flooring all around, as well as sending cracks snaking up the walls all the way to the ceiling. The changelings around me– Oest and Weevil included– were sent tumbling. I took the chance to smash a Praetorian using my hammer, the sheer force of it crushing the changeling. The section of the crater he was prone in became coated in red as half of his barrel was obliterated. Now I could see the foyer in its entirety. A group of changelings in the center were maintaining a shield, surrounded by Praetorians and fallen lings alike. There were far more dead non-armored lings than there were dead Praetorians. ‘They must have ambushed my followers here and pressed the advantage.’ I took a brief count of thirty or so Praetorians before rushing up to the shield in front of me. The hallway I came from seemed to have the least amount of Praetorians in it, as more Praetorians arrived from the main hall up the half-staircase. “SEND THESE BASTARDS TO HELL!” The changelings in the shield– a distressingly few amount– looked to me as I arrived. Unfortunately, my rallying call also caught the attention of the Praetorians present, who had been laying siege to the minor, impromptu defenses of the Lodge members. Four of the closest lings lunged at me, casting out blades of ice-fire. I intercepted one of the red-blue shards of energy with God-Splitter, shattering it and turning the green hammer red from the constant use of dispelling. “The Prince!” A voice yelled out from within the shield. The remaining three blades impacted a shield that I quick-casted, and the fire portion of the spells were nullified. The ice sections cut right through, and had scraped against my peytral itself. The ice scratched the Adamantium plate, but did nothing more than that. The lings who had lunged at me were covered by shields casted by their fellow Praetorians behind them. So instead of throwing out a spell that could hit them all, only to be negated by their shields, I threw God-Splitter forward and pulled them all towards it using levitation. The sudden force on their forms caused their shields to go rigid as their protectors fought off the intrusive force. The result of this was that they couldn’t dodge the solid mass of Adamantium heading straight for them. I watched as one of the Praetorians were sent flying backwards, impacting the ceiling above the staircase. Another Praetorian who was standing next to the intended target was clipped by a glancing hit by the hammer, causing his shield to vaporize. A torrent of fireballs rained down on the unprotected changeling and his two protected comrades as Oest, Weevil, and the now-freed Lodge members linked up with me. I started to catch my breath, noticing my horn had started to sting from the constant casting of spells. Still, using telekinesis to swing God-Splitter was relatively cheap in mana cost, so I kept the Praetorians at bay and dodging around as I panted. The Lodge members had left their shield and formed new defenses around me. “Sir! They came outta nowhere, we had no time to react!” I glanced at the speaker. Captain Cicada, leader of the Will of The Nine, looked like hell. He must have taken a fireball to the neck, as half of his neck and portions of his barrel and lower right fight were charred black. The chitin seemed to be peeling in place, blood leaking out. “I know. A traitor has revealed our plot, and Chrysalis preemptively attacked.” Around us, Lodgers constantly dropped their shields for the briefest of moments to allow for friendlies to counter-attack in the briefest of windows. It was a dangerous maneuver and would by all rights be damn near impossible to achieve. However, thanks to the local Weave I projected, the counter-attacks were being shot off like a fighter’s machine gun being timed between rotations of the propeller in front of it. The same could be said for our foes, as the Weave could not selectively aid only my lings. The Praetorians were using the cooperative skills now possible to their best extent, having been trained to do so. For every elemental, focused will, or other spell thrown at our opponents, they returned with three of their own. We were in a losing position, and I had to do something sooner rather than later. Our mana reserves would deplete long before theirs, even before counting their superior numbers. “What happened to the First Fang members who were supposed to be here? Lace, Coxa, and Tarsus?” “I’m right here, boss!” That was Coxa speaking from somewhere within our grouping. “You alright,” I asked, still focused on my hammer being thrown around wildly outside of the shield. “No. But I’ll live.” “Lace? Tarsus?” “Lace was here, but I lost sight of her right away….” “Did you see her, Captain Cicada?” I saw him shake his head out of the corner of my eyes. ‘So she could be one of the corpses on the ground…. They’re not taking prisoners.’ “She’s fine, I’m sure of it,” I lied. ‘Focus on what's going on right now. The longer this goes on, the lower our chances of escape are, and the lower the amount of energy I have left to fight Chrysalis. Time to make a move.’ I did not speak too loudly above the raucous of the battle, lest the Praetorians overhear me. “We need to move. I’ll make an opening towards the main doors, and the injured and non-combatants can escape that way. Then, we blow a hole in their line and head straight for Chrysalis. We find a nice chokepoint to hold off their numbers while I hit the Queen directly. Everyone got it?” A round of got-its and yeses answered my question. I looked in the direction of the exit and saw a team of Praetorians blocking the way. Unlike their counterparts further in the room, they never dropped their shield to attack. ‘They must have orders to prevent the escape of my lings.’ I recalled God-Splitter after giving the lings in front of me a warning. They dropped their shield briefly enough for the hammer to make it through. A shard of ice smashed against the shield once it was raised back up. I turned around to look at the exit. Something around fifteen Praetorians were now on that side. Our numbers were somewhere between fifteen to thirty. “Everyone injured and still able to fly, get ready to escape. If anyone is injured and can’t fly, find a ling right now to carry you to safety. Coxa, I want you out of here, too. Get ready!” I threw God-Splitter forward as fast as I could. The hammer swung in an arc on the tethering enchantment, swinging downwards from above. The Praetorians saw the massive, shiny, glowing red-and-green mass coming long before it hit, and had moved out of the way. What they didn't see coming was the entirety of our forces now charging their lines. When they realized that we were here, God-Splitter hit the ground, sending another wave of cracks through the floor and walls as well as throwing our opponents off their hooves. The shield was dispelled as their concentration broke. Our party galloped right through them. A few stopped, turned, and brought up another shield in front of the doorway to cover our retreat. Oest and a few others finished off the prone Praetorians, taking no prisoners. I didn’t look back to watch the retreat behind me, instead focusing once more on keeping the changelings around us at bay using God-Splitter. After a few moments I checked on our progress. “We all out?” I called from my position in the rearguard-now-turned-vanguard. “The injured and non-soldiers are out, My Prince!” “Cicada? Still with me, then?” “Till the end, sir!” “How about till their end, yeah? Now we gotta go all the way back through the room and up to Chrysalis.” ‘We’re pretty damn lucky that there wasn’t a force of Praetorians outside the Castle. Word must not have spread to the loyalists out in the city of what’s going on. That won’t last, though.’ “Once more unto the breach!” I leaped forward, back to the center of the room, brandishing God-Splitter as I went. The shield in front of me dropped as I charged. I constantly switched between bringing up small, localized shields to block projectiles in between hammer swings. The Praetorians thankfully were woefully undertrained for fighting an opponent who could defend themselves while attacking without backup. Still, I couldn’t catch all the hits and so my shields were waning. Behind me, the Will of the Nine followed at a slower pace, following in the breach I was creating in the lines of the Praetorians. They kept their shields up after I leapt ahead, opting to focus more on defense rather than offense. As I sent a ling flying back and upwards with a blow of my hammer, one of them had the bright idea to destroy the ground in front of me. Continuous sprays of acid left a dangerous pool of the substance right in my path. In response, my wings buzzed out of my elytra as I flew above the pool, calling it out to the lings behind me. Immediately, a torrent of focused-will spells targeted my back. The shield around me flickered out of existence and my wings were torn under the barrage. I started to plummet to the ground on the other side of the pool. Quickly, I brought up another shield around me. The damage was done, however. My wings were gone, leaving behind a searing pain that persisted underneath my elytra where the wings met my back. I hissed in pain as Oest and Weevil arrived next to me, bringing a protective shield around us and replacing my solo one. “Keep. Moving!” I spat. I turned to look behind me as I got up. The Lodge members were grouping up around me once again. The shields were holding still, and I gave a quiet thanks that the Praetorians did not have any Panar’s Hammer members amongst them. The heavy-hitter spells of that Legion would have made quick work of our defenses. We were now two-thirds of the way into the room, at the base of the staircase. The Praetorians had made us fight for every inch of the ground. Losses on our side were limited, but we had less to lose than them. “Up the stairs now! We take the main hall and hold it!” As we slowly pushed the Praetorians back, I noticed the room was on fire. The great banners that detailed the glory of the Equestrian Royal Guard were now aflame, their great length burning to a crisp from the fireballs and streams that had soared through the air with reckless abandon. The walls themselves were covered in cracks and fissures, similarly aflame, or even melting from acid shots. I gave a quick glance at the ceiling to see that it was intact. Thankfully, the building was not going to come down around our advance. Then, I checked behind me. The Will of the Nine now numbered less than ten members. As I pressed up the left staircase, swinging God-Splitter to clear a way in the horde of changelings blocking our path, I once again called out to my group. “We won’t be able to hold a chokepoint at this rate!” “We’ll think of something!” Cicada answered. The shield around our advance faltered. Then, it dissipated entirely. Immediately, Praetorian Weevil took a focused-will shot to the neck between his helmet and peytral. The shot went straight through, leaving a visible tunnel through his neck. He staggered, then fell. Oestridae took his spot in the advance, bringing a shield back up around us. We left his body behind, crumpled beneath the painting of Celestia that hung on the middle landing of the staircase. For every inch we took, we paid for it with blood. Finally, we neared the main hallway at the top of the stairs. It was smaller than the foyer, and unless we could make it all the way down its length to the throne room under heavy fire, it was our best shot at holding back the Praetorians. “Hold here!” I blasted two Praetorians into the walls using two focused will lasers as the surviving Lodge Members dropped the shield covering us, replacing it with a shield that covered the entire large doorway to the grand hall. The few Praetorians left in the hall were dispatched, taking down two more of our members. The upside was that there were no more Praetorians coming from the Great Hall. The downside was that there were now five Lodge members including Captain Cicada. “Damn it all, we’re not going to be holding this for long. You five will have to hold this as long as you can, buying me enough time to end this. I’d stay and fight, too, but...” “I will hold the line,” Oestridae said. “I need you to help me take down the Queen, Oest.” “You need a chance to take her down, first.” “... But you’ll die.” “We all knew the risks. Not one of us here ignored what we were getting into.” I could only stare at him, panting and leaning against God-Splitter. “I will hold them off and buy you the time you need, Phasma.” I hated how much sense he was making. With his skills and strength, the line could be held for so much longer than just Cicada and the remaining four alone. “If everyone dies, who is left for me to fight for?” It was selfish to ask that right after ordering the rest of the group to their deaths, I realized, but the words came out of my mouth before I could even think. “The rest of our species. Take down Chrysalis so the hive can survive.” “I…” “Go. This is not your grave.” I sighed. “... Goodbye brother.” “No goodbyes. You hate them, remember? Till we meet again, Phasma.” He came close and wrapped a hoof around my own, bringing our chests together with a bump. “Till then. Thank you for… everything, Oest.” We broke the embrace as I blinked the water out of my eyes, and then I turned to gallop down the halls. Alone. Praetorian Oestridae held the line. Even as the shield in the doorway finally broke and the Praetorians started swarming through, he kept them at bay. One after another, they fell to his spells and hoof-to-hoof fighting. Captain Cicada died. As the shield faltered, he used what mana he had left to start casting a massive fireball. When the shield spell fell, he launched it at the door. Since he was next to it, the flames engulfed the half-burnt Captain, too. Praetorian Oestridae held the line. He checked their advance to the throne room, standing right in the middle of the ruined hall. The walls were cracked. The columns had fallen. The stained glass windows were all blown out. The ceiling itself had caved in a number of places. Ash streamed in from above, setting beneath the openings like a layer of grey snow. His hooves crunched on the ash as he slowly backed up, throwing out a concussion blast at the advancing Praetorians. Before, he and his brothers-in-hooves had been the ones advancing against a slowly retreating foe. Now, he made them pay in blood for every inch they took. The changelings in front of him were pushed aside as a changeling in thicker, more covering Praetorian armor emerged. The mandibles on either side of his helmet indicated his ranking as what Phasma had rebranded the Consul; the second highest rank in the Praetorians, beneath Commander Scorpion. The fighting had ceased, leaving the hallway far more quiet than Oest could remember. Wings were still buzzing as some changelings flew. Oest could hear his heavy breaths shoveling in air into his lungs. “Oestridae.” He knew that voice. “Pharynx.” “Where’s Thorax?” “I don’t know.” Pharynx shook his head. “Then this is where you die.” “Did you tell Chrysalis?” “Of your betrayal? No.” ‘Ah. There goes my one guess. I’m sure Phasma has it figured out, though.’ “So. You gonna fight me one on one or something?” “You and your Prince took away my brother. He said he protected him, but Thorax isn’t here. He didn’t survive the trip, did he? Phasma murdered my brother, and Queen Chrysalis forbids anyone from killing him. I’ll have to settle for you instead.” ‘This duel will buy more time.’ “What are you waiting for? I’m right here.” Pharynx smiled and stepped forward. “This one is mine. Stay back, all of you! If any of you interrupt, your life is forfeit.” “You Praetorians are obsessed with death.” “The penalty for treason is death. Your band of misfits knew that. I want my brother back, but this will do for now.” Oestridae conjured a shield around him, enveloping his form in a green glow. Pharynx blasted him with a laser beam, forcing him backwards. Ditches were left in the layer of ash he was standing in as he got pushed back. But Praetorian Oestridae held the line. Pharynx swung a conjured blade again and again, chipping away at Oestridae’s chitin. He was bleeding profusely from the hundred of cuts that Pharynx had rent. In comparison, Pharynx felt fit as a pony fiddle. Throughout the entire fight, Oestridae hadn't casted a single offensive spell. Time and time again, he disorientated Pharynx using stunning or concussive spells, but he never hurt Pharynx. “Are you hoping to buy as much time as possible for your traitor-friend? You know their duel is over by now. You only prolong your death with no chance of defeating me by not fighting back!” “I know,” the resolute traitor growled. “Then why don’t you fight back?!” To emphasize his point, he thrust a blade at Oestridae. Oest blocked the blade by moving a foreleg into the way. The blade sunk deep through his foreleg, leaking blood where the two met. Oestridae panted heavily from behind his foreleg, glaring at Pharynx. “You outta juice or something, traitor?” “I give everything I have for the hive.” “You’re funny, you know that, Oestridae? I think you’re the only changeling in the hive that can beat me, yet you never even tried. You will die for nothing, having achieved nothing yourself.” “I protected Phasma.” “He killed my brother!” “No. Thorax lives.” “Then where is he?!” Pharynx stabbed again with a second blade, sinking it deep in Oest’s chest, penetrating right through the orange peytral. He shuddered, but stayed standing. “... Don’t know,” He grunted. “Then you should have fought back, if you care about your Prince so much!” “He’s more than a prince, he’s my brother.” The opposing Praetorian staggered. Pharynx just shook his head. “But you refused to fight for him?!” A third blade joined the second. “I can’t hurt you.” “Why?!” Oestridae collapsed onto the ground. The magical blades embedded in him vanished as Pharynx stopped casting the spell. “You’re… our brother… too. The rest might have forgotten… but I haven’t. You’re an honorary member of the… First Fang.” He gasped as blood started to pool around him, leaking from the blade wounds. “... And the First Fang... never hurts… each other.” Pharynx watched as his foe grew stiller and stiller. His voice grew quieter and quieter, too. Oest had to struggle to get each word out. “Phas… I stood... until... the... end…” With one last shudder, Praetorian Oestridae died.