SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Love Like You

Sombra the Great, King of Kings and Lord of the World, was not accustomed to defeat.
At least, so he would have liked to say.
Sadly, the days when he might boast as he rode in a chariot at the head of his legions that his armies had never known defeat were long gone now. Too often had he tasted of the bitter draught of failure.
His path to this moment had begun with failure, the day that Ozma bested him at the Pylian gate and wrenched out his heart from his still living form. Cursed be his soul, from this day to the very end of days! Let him know nought but loss and misfortune! In spite of everything, in spite of his wretched form, his hateful condition, his servitude to Salem, Sombra remained glad that he yet lived upon the surface of the world if it meant that he could harry Ozma and his servants with war and wrath whenever his strength allowed it.
If my fate is strife forevermore, then at least I may strive against a man I hate more grievously than ever hate was ever borne before.
All failures followed from that single, first defeat, when Ozma had bested him in single combat and forced him to withdraw his armies home from Pylos. Had it not been for that, if his sword had been swifter or if Ozma had yielded to him, if Pylos had opened up its gates instead of daring defiance of his armies…
So many ifs, and all of them long past consideration. Pylos is nought but dust now, and the first bones of wretched Ozma too, and all the men who marched with me to make an empire less than that.
Not even their memories endure in any mind save mine.
Failure had followed upon failure; stung by that first defeat, brooding upon it, he had entered a league with Ozma’s serpent-tongued widow, blinded by the promises of power that she had showered before his eyes. And from that had led to this, his accursed new form, no man now but a monster born of magic, touched by darkness. Later, when he had begun to stretch forth his strength anew upon the world, he had been bested once again by Salem the Deceiver and by Ozma both, and bound in magic beneath their castle for untold years.
Until now, when he had been set forth upon this quest in servitude to one whom he found hateful, unleashed with his companions in misfortune to hunt down the deceiver's enemies, only for them to best him again when he had fallen on them at the hillfort.
Too many defeats had Sombra known, but the draught remained no less bitter for having been supped on too many times.
He did not wish to drink of it again.
He would not. This time, he would do all that he set out to do: the city would fall, and Sunset Shimmer and Ruby Rose would perish, and his task – their task – would be half done.
Since it was their task, given to them jointly, then by all justice, it ought to have been completed jointly, but Tirek had taken himself off alone to who knew where, and as for Selene and the Storm King, they sat upon the ground beside him, and though the grimm masks which they endured did not allow for great expressiveness, nevertheless, he did not sense in them any great eagerness to aid him in this matter.
“Will you go forth unto the field?” he demanded of them. “Or will you sit, like idle groundlings at a play, and take in the spectacle of my endeavours upon your behalf?”
“If you are so generous as to labour in my part, taking my share of the burden, then who am I to say you may not do it?” Selene asked casually. “And besides, you are Sombra the Great, are you not? Surely so puissant a captain, such a lord of war and nonpareil in the fields of arms and stratagem, have no need of my assistance.”
“It pleases me to watch a true captain work,” the Storm King added. “It would please me even better to watch you suffer a fourth reverse at the hands of these children.”
Sombra growled. “Twice now, they have bested me, not three! Our first encounter saw them flee the field-”
“Yet they survived,” the Storm King replied. “You came to kill them, they fought only for their lives, they kept their lives for you did not kill them; ergo, you are a failure thrice, not twice.”
“The fourth time shall pay for all,” Sombra snarled.
“We shall see,” the Storm King said. “Mayhap the great Sombra, King of Kings, has grown addle-witted in confinement and lost all of his cunning and his skill. Or mayhap you were never great, save in great fortune to be blessed with mighty warriors and valiant officers who won for you an empire in spite of all your folly.”
“Or mayhap you are a coward who would rather jape and mock at my expense than risk your own prestige by hazarding your talents ‘gainst our foe.”
“I have fought,” the Storm King replied. “I conjured storms to waylay them in the mountains.”
“And they withstood your storms, and might and malice of Selene; you two have failed just as I have.”
“I have struck down a huntsman.”
Sombra sniggered. “One huntsman? One single huntsman in a world that overflows with them? What a thing to boast of before kings and queens!”
“The others fled in terror of my coming,” the Storm King replied.
“They had their lives, which you sought to take but did not get; ergo, you failed,” Sombra pointed out with relish.
“I failed alone,” the Storm King declared. “You failed with an army at your back, O mighty conqueror.”
“God of Darkness!” Sombra cried. “Claim you that you would have been victorious upon the hillfort? You would not have fought at all! Were I as indolent as you, as lacking in initiative as you, as willing to let our enemies go whither they will unhindered as you, then they would have had far easier a journey to this place!”
“And were you not so proud, you would have sought my help in ordering your forces,” the Storm King said.
“I need no schooling in war from the likes of you!” Sombra snarled.
“Will one of you please just start the attack?” Tyrian demanded.
Sombra had almost forgotten he was there, and he did not much care to be reminded. He turned a baleful crimson eye upon the little capering creature who sat by his hoof and thought himself possessed of a great quantity of self-control for not squashing him flat with it. “Silence, churl! Silence in the presence of your betters, you who are worthless, counting for nothing in debate! We speak of pride and princely matters here!”
“And as a prince, I say you lead these grimm all wrong,” said the Storm King.
“How can one go wrong in leading grimm?” Selene asked. “Are they not the most simple and savage of creatures?”
“I have been called savage myself, upon a time or two,” the Storm King said, “and I have led those who were called savages to many victories ‘gainst those who called us savage. High walls and noble cities fell to my armies, and let me tell you both that to shark up resolutes from tribe and clan, field and forest, is nothing like leading the legions who followed ‘neath your chariot wheels. It is a different kind of war. These are my warriors, not yours; this is my battle, not yours.” He chuckled darkly. “Let me show you how it’s done.”
Sombra glared down at him for a moment. Impertinent little barbarian. In their pomp, Sombra had ruled a realm twice the size of that which had once bowed before the Storm King, and a realm what was more repute with culture, beauty, art, and music, while all his rival had possessed was a bad smell.
But… perhaps he had a point; Sombra disdained these grimm which he was forced to use; he hated them, just as he hated the fact that he was forced to share a form with them. He hated them, and so, he used them poorly, flinging them forwards like a rabble in ways he would never have fought whilst at the head of his legions. They had no formation, no discipline.
“Very well,” he growled. “Show us how a lord of savages leads savages to victory. Show us the might of the Storm King.”

The bells rang in Ruby’s ears as she, Sunset, and Cinder ran down the steps from the new roof of the tower that Sunset had made – by demolishing the old one. They ran down the steps to the wooden platform from which the Sun Queen had sought to watch Ruby’s execution. From which she had watched Sunsprite die by Tyrian’s hands.
She was almost grateful for the battle which was upon them; it gave her an excuse not to tell her grandfather what had happened for a little while longer.
She would see Tyrian again, she vowed, and when she did… she’d make him pay for what he’d done to her cousin.
She was the last of the Roses now. If she died, if she threw away her life recklessly and in grief, then her line and silver eyes would end with her.
And yet, for Freeport, she might have to do it anyway.
She glanced up at Sunset, who did not look at her. Maybe Sunset had a plan, maybe Sunset was coming up with a plan even as they spoke.
Or maybe not. Maybe she would die, but with her surrogate sister by her side.
There were worse ways to go… but she would fight like hell to avoid it regardless.
From the wooden platform, the three of them could see that the battle was over. The forces of the Frost Mountain and the Summer Fire Clans had vanquished the Rangers of the Sun Queen – at least, those who had been in this chamber. Dead warriors from both sides lay on the floor of the gallery above the fighting pit, along with wounded lying amongst the fallen or being helped out by their comrades or being tended to. Bon Bon was one such; Lyra had gotten her armour off and was staunching a wound that she’d taken to the side.
She was kind of glad that Sunset was ignorant of the whole ‘Bon Bon pretended to switch sides again’ thing; it might have been a little awkward to try and explain.
Instead, Sunset’s eyes passed over Bon Bon and Lyra, searching for someone else as the room emptied.
“Ruby!” Garble called to her. He had been standing by the other door onto the platform, the door which Ruby and Cinder had come in through to get up here after Sunset in the first place, the door that led down into the rest of the tower. He jogged across the wooden boards, his spear wet with blood and dripping it upon the floor. “Glad to see that you’re okay. Uh, all of you, I guess.”
“We’re touched by your concern,” Cinder drawled.
“As you can see, we won,” Garble explained. “Um… where’s the Sun Queen?”
“Nowhere to trouble us,” Sunset declared. “Where are Lady Ember and Prince Rutherford?”
“The chieftains are gathering in the dining hall,” Garble explained. “Come on, I’ll take you to them.” He turned away, leaving them to follow in his heavy footsteps as he led them away from the fighting pit and down a dark stone staircase, then down through a corridor that turned sharply away, then down another small set of stairs into a large chamber dominated by a long, rectangular table sat in the centre of it, with carved wooden chairs lining the length of it. Ember was there, and Prince Rutherford too, and with them were a heavily-tattooed caribou faunus and a broad-shouldered, hairy man with a great grey beard. They were all stood around near the head of the table, arguing loudly and fiercely.
“Of all the times to have chosen to do this!” the caribou faunus shouted.
“I didn’t choose this,” Ember declared.
“You took up arms!” cried the bearded, hairy man.
“I did what was right and necessary,” Ember replied. “The Queen had shown herself unfit to rule us.”
“Prince Rutherford not follow queen who betray queen’s own subjects,” Prince Rutherford declared.
“All well and good, but now we have grimm without the city and civil war within.”
“The first appears to be undeniable, but the second need not be the case,” Sunset declared as she walked down the length of the table towards the gathering. “I cannot speak for how well the Queen was loved in this city, but I think that most people would rather fight for their lives against the grimm than fight for a dead queen in a city that will fall soon after.”
“'Dead'?” the caribou faunus repeated. “The Sun Queen is dead?”
“She is,” Sunset said evenly, looking into his eyes. “By my hand.”
The four chieftains were silent for a moment, before the caribou faunus looked away. “Ordinarily, I would be more inclined to thank you than curse you, but right now, I’m not so sure.”
“Ruby, it’s good to see you again,” Ember said. “These are Prince Ivarr of the Fall Forest Clan and Chief Ragnar of the Ice River Clan. These are Sunset Shimmer, Ruby Rose, and Cinder Fall, warriors from Vale to the west.”
“Prince Rutherford glad to see Sunset Shimmer again!” Prince Rutherford boomed, slapping Sunset on the back so hard she nearly staggered into the table. “Although Prince Rutherford seemed to forget Sunset for a while.”
“Don’t worry, my prince, it was common enough,” Sunset said dryly; there hadn’t yet been time for her to explain how exactly they’d all been made to forget about her, but now wasn’t really a good time. “We have more important things to think of now.”
“What are these outsiders doing here?” Prince Ivarr demanded. “Do you imagine that we need you to teach us how to fight?”
“I think that we need all the help we can get,” Ember said.
“And Prince Rutherford seen Sunset Shimmer destroy whole horde of grimm to save Frost Mountain Clan at King’s Camp,” Prince Rutherford declared. “Seeing Sunset Shimmer again and Prince Rutherford’s heart feel lighter already.”
Sunset chuckled as she scratched the back of her head. “Rest assured, my prince, that we will not let them pass us while we live.”
“I don’t believe it,” Prince Ivarr said. “One warrior against a horde of grimm? Ridiculous!”
“Ivarr call Prince Rutherford liar?” Prince Rutherford demanded.
“I would like to believe it,” Ragnar muttered. “Ember, do you believe this?”
“Like you, I want to,” Ember said. “Sunset, can you destroy them all?”
The rings, Ruby thought. Without the rings, she isn’t as strong as she was at King’s Camp. She understood why Sunset had gotten rid of them, she was glad that Sunset had gotten rid of them, but at the same time… no. No, she couldn’t let herself think like that. Those rings had been twisting Sunset, and the only reason she’d made them in the first place was that Ruby had made her feel so guilty that she felt like she had go above and beyond, put herself at risk, to prove to Ruby that she was worth keeping around.
She didn’t need to do that any more. They would fight together, with all the weapons at their disposal, and if that wasn’t enough, then…
And besides, she was able to destroy a load of grimm in front of the walls of Vale, and she didn’t even have the rings then. So maybe she doesn’t really need them after all.
“I’m not sure,” Sunset admitted. “It depends on how many there are and how they come-”
“Hah! Now we see!” Prince Ivarr crowed. “However she conned you, Rutherford, she sees now that she cannot repeat the trick, and so she-”
Sunset cut him off, not with words but by raising up her hand and hoisting the caribou faunus up into the air, surrounded by the green glow of her telekinesis. He kicked and writhed in the magical embrace, swinging his arms futilely up and down as though he was trying to swim through the air.
“Trick?” Sunset demanded, levitating him up higher as she leapt onto the wooden table, her tail quivering back and forth behind her as her ears flattened down on top of her head. “This is not a trick. What I did at King’s Camp was not a trick, I guarantee it. I have power, perhaps not power enough to withstand all the creatures of grimm single-handed, but I have power nonetheless, and I will use it to defend Freeport whether you believe me or no.” She set Prince Ivarr back down upon the floor, turning her back on him for a moment as she looked around the other chieftains. “But we have a much greater power than I possess, we here and all our followers beyond the tower. If we work together, and fight together, then we have in us such power as no horde of grimm can overcome!
“The grimm are fierce, it’s true; I do not say that the battle will be easy, for they will come in strength with tooth and claw to rend and kill. Freeport is not my home. I do not dwell here, and nor do those I love. But it is your home, it is where you live or it is where you have taken shelter, it is where your parents and your children are… and it is where they will die unless we stand firm this night. If that is not enough to stir your spirits and rouse the passions of all true folk of Freeport to deeds of valour, then I know not what to say, there is no hope for any of us. But if it does suffice, if you will resolve to join with me in battle for the city, then the dawn shall find us living yet, for the walls are strong, and the defences on the hilltops well-established; here we may hold off many times our strength in grimm; I have seen it done in Vale, faced with a horde innumerable, yet earthworks and walls such as we have withstood their fury.”
Ruby wondered if she ought to point out that that was not entirely how the Battle of Vale had gone, but decided that Sunset was probably… telling a good story. Yeah, that sounded way better than ‘lying’ in her head.
Sunset went on. “All things lie on the other side of this battle: life, for yourselves and all those dear to you lies on the other side of this battle. Will you reach for it? Will you stand with me?”
“Frost Mountain Clan shall fight to last warrior!” Prince Rutherford declared.
“And the Summer Fire Clan, too,” Ember said.
“And the Ice River Clan as well, if we have a choice,” Ragnar muttered.
Prince Ivarr was the last to answer. He stared at Sunset with a look in his eyes that Ruby did not like one bit; it reminded her too much of Sami. “The Fall Forest Clan will defend this city,” he agreed.
“Then muster all your warriors and get them to the walls,” Sunset commanded. “Ruby, Cinder, and I will go to the other defences and try to hold the grimm off from the hilltops, away from Freeport.”
“Who will command the Rangers?” Ember asked. “We can command our clans, but who will lead Freeport’s own forces?”
“I will.”
Everyone turned, to see Laurel standing in the doorway to the dining room.
Cinder scowled. “How is that you are free to walk about?”
“You have already won the battle; what can I do to you now?” Laurel asked. She took a few steps in, down the length of the table, just as Ruby and the others had walked down the table’s length a little earlier. “Your Mister Winchester was decent enough to accept my parole, in light the circumstances. I – and Cherry, too – may be able to be of use to you.” She stopped. “Cherry tells me that Dawn is dead.” She looked up at Sunset. “You killed her, didn’t you?”
Sunset’s expression betrayed no remorse. “I had cause.”
Laurel was silent for a moment. “Yes,” she admitted. “Yes, you did. Is Sun- is the Queen dead, too?”
“She is,” Sunset said softly.
Laurel’s face was blank, impassive. “I will not speak a word against her, nor hear such a word spoken,” she said, “for she was bold, and ambitious, generous to her friends if not as generous to her enemies as she could have been.” She paused. “And yet, it was a rotten thing that she did, or tried to do, and I am sorry that I did not speak up louder against it.” She looked at Ruby. “We should have fought for you, as you would have fought for us.”
“I will fight for you,” Ruby declared. “We all will.”
Laurel blinked owlishly. “Then you are a better person than we were,” she murmured. “My Queen is dead, and my friend too, but nevertheless… there was a dream that was Freeport, a dream that four fools shared and believed in enough that we said goodbye to all the things we loved in order to make that dream a reality. Though my Queen is dead, her dream lives on, and I will fight for it, and so will every soldier of Freeport under arms.”
“We’ll need them all,” Sunset growled. “With half your Freeport troops, reinforce the outer defences on the hills surrounding the town. The other half will garrison the walls, reinforced by the warriors of the clans. As I was saying, I’ll try and hold them on the heights, but it may not be possible.”
Laurel nodded. “I’ll lead our troops out, and Cherry will command the ones left behind in the city.”
“And wherever Robyn Hill is, let her out this instant,” Sunset ordered.
Laurel sighed. “Of course,” she said. “Anything else?”
“One more thing,” Ruby said. “Where did you put our weapons?”

Sombra had never greatly esteemed the Storm King; he had thought him little more than a jumped-up bandit chief, his swollen entourage nothing but a horde such as could be swept away in a day’s work by his armies. But, as he took his ease upon the ground and let his fellow king step forward and do all the work, he had to concede that the Storm King was not quite so amateurish as he had expected.
In fact, depending on how this night’s work went, Sombra might have to concede that the Storm King was making better use of the grimm than he had managed.
For one thing, the Storm King had conjured one of the storms for which he had been infamous; that was another thing that Sombra had disdained: the Storm King, he had been wont to say, owed all his victories to the weather. That might be true, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still winning victories one way or another, and he had gone back to the well of that command over wind and rain to conjure up a host of dark, forbidding clouds that blotted out the stars over the heads of the defenders on the hilltops. The rain pelted down upon them, blinding them and dampening their morale; the wind blew in their faces and would blow their arrows and their quarrels back upon them. And the storm would oppress them, weaken them, make them vulnerable when the attack began.
It was almost enough to make Sombra wish that he had studied that particular magical art.
Of course, all of this depended on the storm enduring. The evidence of Selene and the Storm King’s battle with Sunset Shimmer suggested this might not be so.
The evidence of his own battle against her suggested that, even if the storm succeeded, the grimm attack might not.
Sombra cast a baleful eye on Tyrian Callows, who was sat sullenly a little way off, while his new acolyte hovered nearby.
“I will lay a wager with you,” Selene murmured. “That girl there will betray him to his death soon or late.”
Sombra was silent for a moment. “Think you that it is certain?”
“You doubt it?” Selene asked.
Sombra considered for a moment, considering the girl in question. She was lean and hungry-looking; he would never have accepted her into his service. He wished to sleep at nights and preferred those around him to do the same. This girl looked as though she stayed up at nights plotting to increase her power. “She will try,” he allowed, “but she will not succeed; he will kill her.”
“So sure?”
“He is mightier than she.”
“My sister was mightier than I,” Selene reminded him. “And yet…”
“She is not you,” the Storm King declared, turning away from his work to join their discussion. “He has put the fear in her; she will not trespass against him.”
Selene chuckled. “It would not be a wager if we all agreed.”
“How can it be a wager when we have nothing to place at hazard?”
“Have we not pride still?” Selene asked. “Do we not chafe at being thought less than one another in any way? We play for bragging rights, in this small matter as in the great one of who shall be victorious over these mortals and take the heads of Ruby Rose and Sunset Shimmer.”
“A great matter?” Sombra snorted. “It is no great matter to step upon a pair of ants.”
“Then why do you two compete in it?” Selene inquired.
“Why do you not?” the Storm King replied.
“I have put in an effort to waylay them,” Selene insisted. “But, since Sunset Shimmer has proved a little too violent for my liking, I shall allow you two strong and mighty kings to claim these prizes; my turn will come across the ocean, when I break Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos beneath my hooves. For now, you may make sport as you see fit.”
“Hmm,” Sombra mused. “Tyrian!” he snapped.
Tyrian rolled his eyes. “Yes?”
“Lord.”
“Hmm?”
“I am a king,” Sombra declared. “We here are kings and queens all, princes of power and antiquity, and you will call me king when you address me.”
Tyrian scowled. “I am not your vassal!” he declared. “I am bondsman to a greater power, and you forget your place to so forget my mistress!”
“I forget nothing!” Sombra growled, baring his fangs. “Not a moment of my many years will I forget, but I will not be addressed as an equal by the likes of you. Speak to me as a king!”
Tyrian stared at him, saying nothing.
Sombra rose, looming over Tyrian now as he took a heavy, thumping step forwards.
“Lord,” Tyrian said, through gritted teeth. “What would you have of me?”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Sombra said. “Does she live?”
“I was told otherwise, but I fear she does,” Tyrian replied. “Is that a problem… lord?”
It had the potential to be a problem, certainly. Ozma reborn, Selene had named that girl after their clash in the mountains; Sombra had thought much less of her when they battled on the island called Patch, but after their subsequent encounter at the hillfort, he had understood what Selene meant, and not just because no mortal had bested him like that since Ozma lived, but also in the power that she possessed. He wondered why she had not shown such strength before; whatever the reason, if she showed such power again, then all the Storm King’s strategising might come to nought.
“It does not matter,” the Storm King declared. “Whether she is here or not, I will triumph over her this night. All things are in preparation.”
Indeed, the preparations were all but complete. Besides the storm itself, the Storm King had set his forces ready for the assault. It was not as Sombra would have set the lines – it was no four-fold army, to be sure – but it seemed to bear out the Storm King’s assertion that he understood better than Sombra how to use such creatures as they were condemned to work with.
Just as, in days long ago, the callow youths who were too young to fight in the main battle would skirmish in front of the line, so the Storm King had set a loose mass of immature beowolves in front of his formation, waiting at the very edge of the mass of dark, concealing fog that was Sombra’s contribution to this battle. Some of them were visible at that edge of the darkness, and it was their presence no doubt that had set the horns to sounding and the bells to ringing in the town. Sombra could sense the fear rising in the storm-drenched defences, and the city beyond was rank with it. The grimm could sense it too, and better than he could; they were beginning to growl and roar and beat their chests in anticipation, they strained against the Storm King’s control over them, they wished nothing more than to rush forward, to tear, to kill.
They really are like barbarians, are they not?
The Storm King had deployed them much like barbarians, grouping his ursai and his mature beowolves in warbands, with the toughest fighters – the ursai – in the front and then the beowolves sloping off towards the rear in order of weakness. However, he had surprised Sombra a little by not grouping all his forces in one single mass, but dispersing his warbands in a concave semicircle ringing the city and the hills that protected it. He could attack from all points, not just from one, an elementary lesson Sombra should have borne in mind if he had not been so contemptuous of the grimm he led. A large reserve, similarly arrayed, awaited behind the front line, not far away from them, while the Storm King had grouped his stag-like cerruns and his equine sleipnirs further back. Unless Sombra missed his guess, the Storm King would unleash that cavalry in pursuit once the defences broke.
Also waiting were the goliaths that the three of them had painstakingly brought over the mountains from Vale. One hundred of the giant grimm they had rustled up for the journey – the only grimm they had sought to bring from Vale, being confident in being able to shark up enough in this part of the world to meet their needs – but only seventy-three had survived the rigours of the crossing, the rest falling to their deaths from the high peaks or freezing in the high altitudes. They had, though, found more of the magnificent grimm on the other side, with the result that their goliath corps now mustered one hundred and thirteen. Of all the grimm, they were the only ones that Sombra could say that he liked, if only because they reminded him of his mighty war elephants. Selene thought the same – he remembered that she had ridden into battle, and everywhere else besides, upon the back of an enormous white bull elephant, and how she had been wont to look down on Salem from upon its back – and while the Storm King had never possessed an elephant herd, he had been envious of those who did. It was for that reason that they had agreed that they would not use the goliaths without consent from the other two: Sombra had not deployed them against the hillfort, and a good thing too, while the Storm King would not use them here, even though it might be their last chance to use them.
None of them really wanted to see the wondrous beasts die. So they waited, trumpeting defiance at the enemy, occasionally stamping at the ground, waiting for a command that might never come.
The Storm King, like Sombra at the hillfort before him, gave no sign that he would be leading his warbands into battle. Perhaps he would have, in the old days; being a savage, it was practically expected of him, but this was not the old days, and they had all outlived the flush of youth when they felt immortal. Now they were immortal, but had lived long enough to become precious of their lives. None of them desired to die before they sat a throne once more. Selene and Sombra had been burnt in their encounters with Salem’s enemies, and Sombra, for his part, did not intend to be burned by the eyes of heaven a second time.
If they had been leading human armies, either Sombra or the Storm King might have felt ashamed to be hanging back at the rear out of danger, but they led only grimm, who were – goliaths excepted – fit for nothing better than to be spent this way and who cared not where their leaders stood.
Sombra studied the assembled grimm, drawn up for battle. A thought occurred to him. “Do you think they could be armed?”
Selene looked up at him. “Armed?”
“With spear and shield,” Sombra explained.
Selene was silent a moment. “These beowolves and ursa spend as much time on four legs as upon two, where would they put these weapons?”
“Not them, then, but beringels or grendels-”
“They have not the wit to use them,” Selene declared dismissively.
“I am not so certain,” Sombra replied. “In any case, we have magic to do more than strike down our enemies.”
“Perhaps,” Selene allowed. “But why would you wish to?”
“Mayhaps I would rather lead an army than a horde.”
The Storm King laughed. “You do not know how to use the grimm, so you dream of remaking them more to your liking?” he asked. “How like you, King of Kings; better you should watch closely and learn how to make use of what is plentifully available. Watch, both of you, and see how the storm will sweep away all our opposition.”

Sami had never been surrounded by grimm quite like this before.
She wasn't sure that she liked it.
The Fall Forest Clan had been – was – a lot of things, most of them pretty bad, but just because they worshipped ancient gods and were willing to shed blood in the name of those same gods didn't mean that they didn't fear the grimm. Everyone feared the grimm, and Sami was no exception to that. Seeing so many of them, so close by, not trying to kill her, it… well, it was something.
Seeing them be ordered around like men, and seeing them obey those orders, that was something else altogether.
The world was a very complicated place, she was finding out; there were more things in heaven and earth than the withered storytellers of the Fall Forest Clan had dreamt of in their half-remembered legends. None of their tales had told of this, of grimm led like armies, of the queen who ruled over them or of those who commanded them.
These three… Sami wasn't sure how to refer to them inside her own head. 'Creatures' was the word that echoed in her mind, but Sami had the distinct impression that if any of them caught her referring to them that way, then she would not be long for this world, and yet, what else to call them, these things who looked like grimm but spoke like men, who made old-fashioned words out of mouldy books sound in the harsh tones meant for swiftly barked commands? Sami had caught sight of one of them on the night they had been attacked at King's Camp, but she had taken him then for a karkadann, not… this.
They looked like grimm, and yet, they did not consider themselves to be grimm, or at least, that was the impression Sami got from what they said.
They called themselves kings and queens, although kings and queens of what, Sami had no idea.
And they were proud and looked with disdain on Tyrian.
It sounded absurd, but that had been almost as much of a surprise to Sami as the existence of these kingly grimm had done; when she had first encountered Tyrian, when he had killed Jack so casually, bested her so easily, and announced herself as a servant of the goddess, then he had seemed to be almost all-powerful, one touched by the blessings of a dark divinity, imbued with a touch of her majesty. The Sun Queen of Freeport had felt it too, she knew; that was why she had bent the knee so easily. Tyrian possessed a glamour about him that reduced the wills of those who sought to stand against him.
And yet, whatever that power was, it had no effect upon the kings of grimm; they treated him like a servant, like someone fit to fetch and carry and to run errands. It… made her see him differently.
Perhaps he was not the one she ought to follow. Perhaps she ought to look instead to one of these three greater than grimm for her advancement. She did not wish to remain forever as the servant to a humble servant whose humility was being demonstrated to her with great emphasis.
She did not want to remain as she was.
When she had recovered her memories from wherever they had gone, she had… she had been afraid. She had been afraid of Sunset Shimmer and the things that Sunset might do to her once she found out what Sami had done. She didn't want to be afraid again. She didn't want to be afraid of Tyrian; she didn't want to be afraid of Sunset; she wanted to be the one who put the fear in others. That had always been the best part, not the killing, but before, when all these people who thought themselves so powerful and so safe realised that they were in a place where all the power belonged to Sami because Sami held the knife. She wanted to put that fear in Sunset, and Ruby and Cinder and all the rest. But she would need to be more than herself, more than what she was, to do so.
She would be satisfied, as a first step, to be able to do as Tyrian did and intimidate others by the sheer fact of declaring herself to be intimidating, but she wanted more than that. She wanted power. She wanted magic.
It was a question of who she ought to serve to get it.
And how to convince anyone other than Tyrian that she was worth taking on.
At present, after all, she had nothing they wanted.
And so, for now, she was forced to wait and watch as they prepared their grimm to assault the hills that guarded Freeport. Would they win? They seemed confident that they would, but Sami was less certain. Sunset was back, and Sunset… Sami had seen what she did to grimm.
If they failed again, as they had failed at King's Camp, then maybe, just maybe, Sami would have something to offer after all.

The gates of Freeport had been thrown open, and Rangers in their capes of brown and green, with bows and swords and Great War guns, rushed though the open gate towards the defences that had been dug on the surrounding hills. None of them spared a single glance for Ruby, Sunset, or Cinder; their eyes were all turned outwards, to where the town was threatened by the grimm and to where the storm blew wind and rain into their faces.
Ruby could hear the bad weather beyond the walls, where rain hammered into the stonework and the barricades that bridged the gaps between the ancient stonework. The howling of the wind did battle with the ringing of the bells, prefiguring the battle between men and grimm that was sure to follow.
"There is a fell voice in the air," Cinder observed. "These strange grimm have pursued us here."
"Don't say it too loud; somebody might hear you and take offence," Sunset replied. "But, yes, that does appear to be the case; if Tyrian has followed us all the way from Vale, then why should that thing not have followed us from King's Camp, and the other two besides?"
"You think that it's all of them?" Ruby asked. "It's not just the one from King's Camp and Patch?"
"The one at King's Camp and Patch didn't make the weather," Sunset replied. "Black smoke, yes, but not a storm like this; this is more like the weather that bedevilled us trying to cross the Pass of the Raven… and maybe on the river too, come to that."
Cinder frowned. "I wish I had pried more deeply into Salem's secrets, then I might know exactly what we're dealing with."
"Something strong," Sunset said. She looked down at her right hand. "Perhaps I shouldn't have-"
"No," Ruby said. "You should have. You did the right thing getting rid of them."
Sunset looked at her. "With the rings, I was strong enough to stand against these creatures."
"They also turned you into one of them," Ruby pointed out. She took Sunset's hand, squeezing it gently as she endeavoured to put an optimistic smile upon her face. "We'll make this work, Sunset, somehow."
Sunset stared down at her. A snort escaped her. "Do you really believe that?"
"I wouldn't admit it if I didn't," Ruby said.
Sunset chuckled. "I… I'm glad we're doing this together." She glanced at Cinder. "The three of us."
"I wish you hadn't said that," Cinder murmured. "I was going to ask if I could slip away."
Sunset covered her mouth with her free hand as she laughed. "If… if you want to go, then-"
"I don't," Cinder said quickly. "I wouldn't miss this for all the power that I once dreamed of. I, too, am glad that we face this together." She smirked. "It turns out that a world without Sunset Shimmer scarcely bears thinking about."
Sunset did not reply to that. Instead, she folded her arms and seemed to retreat inside herself, deep in thought as her tail twitched slowly back and forth behind her.
Her head bowed. She clutched her own arms tighter, crinkling the leather of her jacket.
"Sunset?" Ruby asked. "Is everything okay?"
"I…yeah, of course," Sunset said. "I was just… never mind."
Ruby nodded absently, her gaze returning to the Rangers rushing out beyond the gate. The stream of men had slowed to a trickle now; most of those who meant to go beyond the wall had done so already; those that remained were preparing to defend the walls in case the first line of defences fell.
"It was a mistake to come here, wasn't it?" she asked quietly, as guilt gripped her stomach and pinched it tight. "We led them here. Whatever happens next is on us."
Sunset's jaw clenched. "That's why we have to fight," she said, "because it's the least we can do." She looked at Ruby. "You aren't to blame for the Sun Queen's choices, Ruby. They were her choices, and she has to own them, however they turn out. Yes, some of the choices that we've made have turned out to… a little less than perfect, but we did the best we could, we had good reasons, and we didn't force anyone else to do anything. The power of choice is given to all, and all are burdened with the responsibility, and any place that can only survive with blood sacrifice does not deserve to survive."
"I… I suppose. Anyway, we should get going," Ruby said. In truth, her feet were impatient to move; watching the Rangers run out of the gate to reinforce the defences, watching the clan forces take up positions along the walls, it made her feel at fault for her idleness, for just standing here and waiting.
"Not yet," Sunset said.
Ruby was about to ask what they were waiting for when the question was answered by the arrival of Laurel, accompanied by Cardin and a tall, reluctant looking pony faunus – like Sunset, she had both ears and tail – with dusky skin and hair of blonde so pale that it was almost white. She kept glancing at Laurel, as if she feared her, and Ruby guessed that this was the pony who had fallen through the hole between worlds and alerted the Sun Queen to the existence of Equestria.
The pony guest quickened her pace as she saw Sunset, leaving Laurel and Cardin behind as she approached the other trio. She ignored Cinder and Ruby, keeping her eyes fixed on Sunset as she approached. "Is this some kind of a trick," she asked, "or did you get your body back?"
"It's me again, Sunset Shimmer," Sunset replied. "Although I fancy I am so unlike the Sunset you knew that we might as well be strangers."
"I'm glad to hear it; the old you was unbearable," the other pony replied. "I would say that I'd like to get to know the new you, but in the circumstances… I'd pass in return for things being a little less terrible."
"Believe me, I'm not crying out for a chance to show you that I've changed," Sunset said. "For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that our two worlds became entangled, I'm sorry that the monsters of my world found a way into Equestria, and I'm sorry that you ended up here. None of that should have happened, and as you've already seen, this is not a world to end up in by chance."
"No," the other pony agreed. "Although I have to say, so far, I've found the most dangerous monsters in this world walk on two legs."
"Some do," Sunset conceded. "But so do some of this world's brightest heroes. The worst here may be worse than the worst in Equestria, but the best? That's just as good."
The other pony's violet eyes flickered from Cinder to Ruby. "I'll take your word for that."
Sunset nodded. "I… I don't know if we will survive this battle," she said, "but if I do, I give you my word that I will get you home to Equestria."
"Thank you," the other pony said. "I appreciate that, and for more than just showing that you really have changed."
Sunset snorted. "In the meantime, however, I must ask you for a favour."
The pony looked around. "That's a lot to ask, in the circumstances."
"I need you to use your pegasus powers to try and push back against this storm," Sunset said.
"Pegasus powers? You might not have noticed, but I'm missing a pair of wings."
"And I'm short a horn, but the power is within us nonetheless," Sunset told her. "Just concentrate, look inside yourself; you will find your abilities within you."
"And you want me to use them to help the people who held me prisoner, ransacked my mind, and were prepared to invade Equestria?"
"The person who invaded your mind is dead," Sunset said bluntly, making the pony's eyes widen as she drew back a little. "So is the one who held you prisoner and sought to invade our home for their own gain."
"Dead?" the pony repeated. "By your… hand?"
"Yes," Sunset confirmed, her voice becoming softer and quieter, as though she were ashamed – or ashamed to admit it, at least.
"You really have changed, haven't you?" the pony said.
"I am… my path is not always pretty, but it is the path that I have chosen, and I will not turn away for anything," Sunset declared. "I know that you have no cause to love this place, and no reason to help us – except, perhaps, the fact that if I'm dead I can't help you – but most of the people living here had nothing to do with what was done to you. They're blameless, and they're in danger."
"And you care about such things now?"
Ruby found herself getting a little annoyed at the sceptical tone of the other pony's words, before reminding herself that she had absolutely no room to talk.
Sunset glanced at Ruby. "I do," she said.
The other pony stared at her awhile. "Well," she said eventually, "I suppose Robyn Hill can't be shown to be more lacking in compassion than Sunset Shimmer. I'll do what I can. I can't promise anything – that storm is ferocious, and I don't have the body I'm used to – but I'll do what I can."
"That's all I ask," Sunset replied.
As the pony – Robyn Hill, she had called herself – stepped away, Cardin approached. "Are you sure you don't want me to come out there with you?"
"No," Sunset said immediately. "If it can be done, then we will manage, and if not… best not to put all our eggs in one basket."
Cardin looked from Sunset to Ruby and then back again, and looked for a moment as though he might say something about that, but in the end, he must have thought better of it, for he simply nodded and said, "Okay then. Good luck to all three of you."
"Indeed," Laurel added, from a little way off. "And thank you, again, for fighting for a place that… that would not fight for you."
"Now you will see the difference in our spirit," Sunset declared. She placed a hand on Ruby's shoulder. "In Ruby's spirit, at any rate."
Before anyone else could say anything else, a new sound had joined the howling of the wind towards the walls: the crack and bang of gunfire coming from the hills beyond.
The grimm had begun their attack.
Laurel cursed under her breath. “Close the gate as soon as I’m through,” she commanded. “Are you coming?”
“We’ll take a shortcut,” Sunset said, taking Cinder and Ruby by the arm. “Are you two ready?”
Cinder asked, “Ready for wh-?”
Sunset teleported, taking Ruby and Cinder with them. Ruby saw the green light consume her eyes, and for an instant, she lost all sensation in her body: arms, legs, she couldn’t feel them, her toes and fingers might as well have dropped off for all that she was aware of them. There was nothing but her thoughts and the sensation of Sunset’s presence somewhere that she could not quite identify.
Then, with a pop and another burst of all-consuming green light, they were back on solid ground. Solid-ish ground, anyway; the rain had turned the earth to mud beneath their feet, and more rain descended from the dark clouds above, plastering Ruby’s hair to her face as water soaked her cape and trickled down her nose. The wind chilled her to the bone as it blasted her from the front.
The deluge made it difficult to see; the light of the moon and stars were blotted out by the clouds, and the pelting rain only made it more difficult; she could barely make out the fog that hovered at the edge of the battlefield because it was so dark already that it was hardly noticeable.
What was noticeable were the muzzle flashes of the rifles and the antiquated machineguns as they fired into the darkness. What was noticeable were the white bone masks of the beowolves as they emerged, snarling out of the dark and into the light of the lanterns which had been lit all along the line of earthworks that the defenders had dug upon the hills.
A beowolf mounted the breastwork, snarling down upon the Rangers below. Sunset blew its head off with a single shot from Sol Invictus.
“Is Crescent Rose going to be okay in this weather?” Sunset asked.
Ruby unfolded her weapon. She felt satisfyingly heavy in Ruby’s hands; she felt solid, like something Ruby could hold onto. “I think so,” she said. The risk was mud, not rain; she would just have to hope for now and strip-clean it come morning.
“Fortunately,” Cinder observed, as a pair of glass scimitars formed in her hands, “I don’t have that problem.”
Sunset smirked. “Lucky you,” she said as she put one hand upon her shoulder and ignited the dust infused within the fabric. Her arms and back began to burn brilliantly, the flames of crimson and gold leaping up in spite of the torrential rain as the power of dust proved stronger than the fury of the heavens. “Let’s go. Sapphire!” she cried out as she ran, the old name rising from her throat like a phoenix from the ashes. “Sapphire!”
“Sapphire!” Ruby took up the call as she charged, easily overtaking Sunset in a burst of rose petals, petals red as blood that trailed after her in the mud, withering in the rain that hammered down upon them. She leapt down into the trench and sliced two beowolves in half with a single stroke as they started to surmount the earthwork. She climbed up onto the parapet with the Rangers and opened fire on the shapes in the darkness that she took to be approaching grimm.
“Sapphire!” The cry sprang from the lips of Cinder Fall too, and though she had never been a part of their team, she had earned the right to cry it out after all that she had done and been through upon their behalf. She jumped over the trench and balanced nimbly upon the breastwork itself, the slippery conditions seeming not to trouble her at all as she danced upon the crest, her obsidian blades practically invisible, save for the inescapable, fatal wounds they dealt to any beowolf who ventured too close.
Then there was Sunset, burning Sunset, magical Sunset, reborn Sunset; Ruby hadn’t seen her fight like this since… since the Breach? Was that the last time? Or was it before that? When had she last seen Sunset fight without seeming to be weighed down by burdens that no one else could see? Either way, it was like she’d come back from everything that had happened to her… not the old Sunset exactly, but better than the newer Sunset. Even if she didn’t have the magic rings to make her stronger now, when Ruby could take a moment to watch her, she found that Sunset was plenty strong enough.
Sunset kept moving, dashing up and down the trench, shooting Sol Invictus and then tossing the rifle up into the air to let ten magical blasts issue from her fingertips, then catching the rifle again to bayonet a beowolf trying to surmount the earthwork. Then she kept on running, into a cluster of beowolves who had already descended the other side of the defence, burying her bayonet in a beowolf and then earth, so that the rifle was stuck point first in the ground like a standard with no flag as Sunset drew her sword and waded into them.
Sunset was more mobile than Ruby had ever seen her in a fight before, always moving, never standing still, not even to cast spells. But then, in this battle, they were all mobile, taking their lead from their leader and her restless, seemingly relentless energy; no sooner had they dealt with the grimm nearest them than Sunset would call for them to come on, to follow her; and they did follow, down the works to the next crisis point where they would clear out the grimm and safeguard the position before moving on to the next place.
The grimm were smarter than Ruby would have liked. They didn’t all charge at once, but teased the defenders of Freeport, lunging forwards in little packets – groups that would have been shot down with guns and arrows if it hadn’t been too dark to see and if the wind hadn’t been absolutely terrible for archery – some of which made it over the earthwork and some of which didn’t. Nowhere did it feel like the main effort, and yet, there were places where the defenders of Freeport were hard-pressed even by these nibbling attacks, as groups of beowolves surprised the near-sighted defenders, pushed through the killing fire, leapt over the barricade and got in amongst the Rangers. But wherever that happened, wherever it looked as though the line would falter, Sunset, Ruby and Cinder were there, their approach signalled by the sight of Sunset’s blazing jacket approaching through the dark. And the defenders of Freeport took heart from the flames and began to cheer as they saw it coming, their beacon of hope, their flame of courage, and across the line, the cry began to ring out, ‘Sunset! Sunset!’
The cries and cheers only grew louder as the beowolf attacks stopped, the grimm melting back into the darkness, while the Rangers of Freeport jeered them, called them cowards, crowed their victory, and lauded the name of Sunset Shimmer.
It was weird; she had killed their Queen, destroyed their tower, and come within a hair's breadth of destroying their city itself. But they didn’t know any of that, and some of it, they might not have cared about; if anyone was asking where the Sun Queen of Freeport was in Freeport’s hour of need, Ruby didn’t hear them. Right now, with the grimm before them, all that mattered was that Sunset Shimmer with her flaming jacket was fighting for them, and for that, she was a hero in their eyes.
And honestly? She deserved it. After all she’d been through, after all that Ruby had helped to put her through, Sunset deserved to have her name cheered to the heavens.
Ruby couldn’t help but remember that night on the train heading back from Cold Harbour, when they had all seemed so much younger and so much more naïve, when at Rainbow’s urging, they had all confessed their hopes and dear ambitions.
“The great glory that will accrue to us as a result our deeds in the field and in the tournament arena, and the immortality that we will win there.”
It was funny that it was here of all places, here at the end of Sanus, here where she had almost been lost, here when she had sunk so low… here, Sunset’s dreams were finally coming true.
And yet, she hardly seemed to realise it. She didn’t pay attention to the adulation that rang down upon her. Rather, she stood upon the firing step, peering out over the breastwork, trying to penetrate the darkness with her eyes.
Her victory did not elate her.
Probably because it felt no more like a victory to her than it did to Ruby. So far, they had only faced young beowolves, but young beowolves never travelled without an alpha to lead them, and she thought – she hoped – that a smattering of young beowolves would not have scared the Sun Queen enough to sacrifice her life and that of Sunsprite Rose to avoid resisting them. So far, what they had faced in terms of grimm was nothing compared to the strength of the attack on King’s Camp. More grimm would come, and by the looks in their eyes, Sunset and Cinder knew it too. Most likely, the Rangers knew it just as well, or at least, she hoped they did, but they wanted to celebrate even a respite, and Ruby could not find fault with that.
“Not here,” Sunset said, leaping down from the fire step and beginning to run along the length of the earthwork, behind the other defenders at their post, heading right towards the centre of the line.
“Where are we going?” Ruby cried as she effortlessly kept pace with Sunset.
“To the centre,” Sunset declared. “They were teasing our defences, looking for weak points.”
And then Ruby knew exactly what she meant.
The hills that warded Freeport against attack from the west were the only part of its terrain over which an army could attack, protected as the town was by the sea to the east, a mountain to the north and a lagoon to the south. But if an enemy did gain the hills, then they would be overlooking the town below, and a human enemy would be able to rain fire down upon the town, and even the grimm would be able to charge downhill. And so, the Sun Queen had fortified the hills, to be the first line of Freeport’s defences, but those defences had a gaping hole in them where the road ran over the hill towards the town, and on either side of the road, the earthworks simply stopped. Yes, there were two machineguns covering the road in a crossfire, but it was still the weakest point in the defence, and even the young beowolves had done serious damage there; the bodies of the Rangers they had slain still lay where they had fallen as they approached. Laurel was there now, commanding the defence, with some of her picked fighters ranged around her, but nevertheless, Ruby agreed with Sunset: this was where the grimm would strike next.
Laurel glanced their way. “There is no sign of them,” she said.
“There’s no sign of anything at this point,” Cinder muttered and spoke true: the storm had hardly slackened at this point; whatever Robyn was doing, it was not enough.
Sunset stared into the darkness, the rain dripping down her face and soaking her hair even as it failed to extinguish the dust-fuelled flames that leapt from her jacket; she was frowning, and the water droplets trickled off her brow. She had Sol Invictus and Soteria both slung across her back, leaving her hands free to spread out slightly across her body.
Ruby began to feel a change in the wind, first an easing of it as it ceased to blow quite so strongly in her face, and then a turning of the wind as it began to blow not into her but past her, pushing at her rain-soaked cloak, chilling her still in her sodden garb but from the other direction.
The west wind howled and seemed to cry out in anger at being resisted, and once more, the gale blew from that direction, pushing Ruby so hard that she felt as though she were going to be blown straight off her feet and onto her back in the mud. She buried the scythe blade of Crescent Rose into the earth and gripped the chilly metal of her weapon tightly like an anchor to hold her in place. The rain flew into her face, and the darkness cast by the clouds above seemed as impenetrable as ever.
Sunset gritted her teeth, showing them as her lips parted as she took a step forward. The biting onslaught of the wind lessened, reversing course once more, the clouds above beginning to clear away and let in patches of silver moonlight… only for the storm to surge forth against them one more time, to blast them with wind and pouring rain alike.
Sunset cried out in frustration, and then to gasp once she had so cried out because she was short of breath; this time, the wind did not change course; it did not go from blowing in their faces to blowing at their backs. But as Sunset stood, back bent like a tree young enough to bend before it broke, the wind did lessen, become less fierce and forceful, less likely to blow your arrow back into your face. It lessened, and the rain lessened too, and it became a little easier to see what was before them.
“This,” Sunset murmured. “This is the best I can do. Without… he’s too strong for me.”
The wind had lessened enough that Ruby could take one hand away from Crescent Rose and, with it, gently take Sunset’s gloved hand. “It’s okay,” she assured her. “It’s enough.”
“No, Ruby, it isn’t,” Sunset replied. “But thank you anyway.”
“Here they come!” Cinder cried, flourishing her swords as she assumed a fighting stance, one blade held in a low guard and the other poised to strike.
Out of the dark, out of the rain, out of the shadow came the grimm. Like a normal horde, after the younger grimm had teased and tested the defences, now the more mature grimm attacked. Unlike a normal horde, it wasn’t just the mature grimm in a mass: it was ursai, crude ranks of ursai, and maybe there were beowolves behind them, but it was impossible to tell from here because all Ruby could see in front of her were the ursai, walking upright upon their hind legs, shoulder to shoulder, presenting black bodies or bony armour plates to the defenders as they lumbered forwards, forelegs pumping by their sides. They looked a little silly, marching like that when they were meant to move on all fours – and that was what made Ruby think that there must be beowolves behind them, because Sanusian beowolves did walk on their hind legs, and the only reason it made sense for the ursai to do likewise was to hide and protect the weaker grimm behind – but there would be nothing silly about it if they reached the line.
When they reached the line. The defenders of Freeport opened up on them, the machineguns that covered the gap in the earthwork rattling off rounds, the rifles snapping, the bows and crossbows that had been kept miraculously dry letting arrows and quarrels fly where they could, but the ursai were like sponges, and they soaked up the fire and the missiles even where such did not simply bounce off their armour plates and spurs of bone.
Ruby fired Crescent Rose; Sunset yanked Sol Invictus off her shoulder and joined the chorus of shots. Crescent Rose was able to bring them down, but even Ruby’s precious high calibre sniper rifle needed more than one shot; it would probably have needed something as large as Ciel’s Distant Thunder to one-shot them, and that weapon had too slow a rate of fire to be of much use against these numbers.
Even when Ruby killed an ursa, there was another one behind, and the shadow of beowolves behind that.
Cries of alarm rose from the left and right of them as more mobs of grimm lurched into view, identically arrayed with the ursai in front; they were coming in on the flanks of the group headed straight for them, forcing those who had been firing into the flanks of that first group to turn and redirect their energies to the grimm coming right at them.
These grimm were more cleverly led than any that Ruby had fought before; even at the Battle of Vale, they hadn’t displayed tactics like this.
What were they up against?
The first group of grimm plodded closer and closer, the earth shaking with the heavy tread of so many creatures, growls and snarls emerging from their bone-crusted mouths as they churned the earth to mud and mire beneath their paws.
“Hold the line!” Laurel called. “Stand fast, for hearth and home and all that lies behind us!”
The grimm kept on advancing, failing to die in anything like sufficient numbers to stop them.
Sunset dashed forwards, leaving Ruby and Cinder behind, rushing past Laurel, running to the very centre of the gap in the breastworks, her jacket still blazing out behind her, a light amidst the storm and darkness. She dropped to one knee, her palm slamming into the mud beneath her. Green light erupted from her hand, not a blast of magic as she was wont to use, but a wave of energy, like a shockwave, but followed by lines of glowing emerald light tracing a rapid, zig-zag pathway through the earth as the magic swept out towards the grimm.
Swept out and destroyed them all, turning them to ashes in a mere moment, their smoky remains dissipating into the storm and the fog that lay at the edge of the battlefield.
“Yes!” Ruby cried, pumping one fist in the air. “Go, Sunset!”
Sunset did not respond. She did not look at what she had done. Her head was bowed, and she stood so still that, for a moment, Ruby thought that she had fallen asleep kneeling down. After a few moments, however, she rose to her feet, slowly and ponderously like a mountain rising from the earth, or a tree growing. But she looked far less steady than a mountain or tree. Her whole body swayed back and forth, as though she might topple over.
Laurel wiped water out of her already watery blue eyes. “You… your power, it… no wonder… gods.”
Above the lessened howling of the wind, more shots rang out to the right of them, further along the earthworks.
Sunset’s whole body snapped around in that direction. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t even look at Ruby or Cinder; she simply started to run in that direction.
Ruby didn’t bother keeping pace with Sunset this time; she left that to Cinder. Rather she raced ahead, her whole body turning into rosepetals as she flew, passing through the rain which didn’t affect her, untroubled by the wind, moving near as swift as thought, sensing rather than seeing, knowing by instinct where she needed to be.
Ruby stopped, rematerialising behind the breastwork but before another group of grimm, formed like the three that Sunset had taken care of already, lumbering forwards into the teeth of the Rangers’ fire.
Ruby added the firepower of Crescent Rose to their older weapons, bringing down one ursa, and then another, wishing that she had some dust rounds as she reloaded, but she hadn’t picked up any at Beacon, and there had been no chance to come by them since.
Cheers rose from the defenders as the familiar fire drew near, Sunset running down the line, Cinder effortlessly matching her speed. Sunset seemed to be moving a little slower than she had been before, but nevertheless, it did not stop her from leaping agilely up the top of the earthwork and once more unleashing her most powerful spell to strike down all the grimm within view. The acclaim that rained down upon her was redoubled here, but Sunset seemed, if anything, even more unaffected by it than she had been before.
She looked too tired to take much notice.
More shooting broke out from the right. Again, Sunset started to run in that direction, but slipped and lost her footing in the mud, going down flat on her belly, her face in the dirt.
“Sunset!” Ruby cried, rushing to her and kneeling down beside her. “Are you okay?”
Sunset grunted as she started to push herself up. “I’m fine. Only my dignity was wounded, not my aura.”
“Are you sure you should be using that spell so often?” Cinder asked, from the other side of her.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Sunset demanded.
“You’re not the only one here,” Cinder reminded her sharply. “You don’t have to put out every fire yourself.”
“I have to do… all I can,” Sunset declared. “Trust me, I’m not at my limit yet.”
“I do trust you,” Ruby declared. “I didn’t before, but… but now I do.” She smiled. “So trust me, to do all I can, for you.” And with that, she spread her cloak over Sunset’s prone form and carried her partner with her as she flew.
Sunset, too, was transformed into petals; petals of burning gold mingling with Ruby’s crimson cloud as they moved as one, joined and mingled and inseparable. Ruby could sense Sunset’s weakness as they flew, covering the ground more swiftly than Sunset’s feet could have managed; she could sense how much of herself she had already given. But she could also sense Sunset’s determination not to give up, not to stop until the battle was done.
And she did not stop; Ruby rushed her from here to there, from one end of the line to the other, wiping out whole swathes of grimm until Sunset looked about ready to collapse right there on the spot. But she kept going, though she was leaning on the earthwork to prop herself up, though the colour seemed to be ebbing out of her hair, though there was black beneath her eyes, though her flames had flickered and died away, though she could no longer hold back the storm and it howled in all its rage once more, she kept going until all the grimm were destroyed and there were no more to be seen. No more shots ran out, no more warnings cried, only the cheers for Sunset Shimmer, the hero of the night, and the miracles that she had worked.
And then, louder than the wind, louder than the cheering, loud enough to drown all other sounds, a single, monstrous howl arose, torn from a myriad of throats united in a single goal.
Their death.

Sombra snorted in disdain. “So, you understand the tactics of savages and beasts? That may be so, but it seems that in the face of Sunset Shimmer, your wisdom is of no greater use than mine.”
“Did I not tell you that I had taken her measure when we fought amidst the clouds?” Selene demanded. “Did I not tell you both that she was Ozma reborn? Oh, how you mocked me then and called me coward. Well, look at you now, undone by her without even the valour to confront her in your own selves. Truly, I am in the presence of most puissant warrior kings.”
“I never denied her power,” the Storm King declared. “But even Ozma had his limits; even he could not fight on, alone, all day against so many foes without the toll of his exertions telling on him. For look you both, how I not only understand the ways of savages but of those who call themselves ‘heroes’ also; see how I committed my first battle piecemeal, and in so doing summoned Sunset Shimmer to this point and then that, first to here and then to there and back again. All of my grimm, she has destroyed, because a hero could do no less… and now I deem she is exhausted. See how the storm howls once again; she has no more strength left to resist it.” A note of gleeful anticipation entered his voice. “While I still have a host of grimm left to send forward.” He gestured with his staff towards his second line, even as it began to march slowly but inexorably forwards, out of the fog and up the hill. “Sunset Shimmer will be as helpless as a babe before the power I yet command.”

The grimm came on again; more of them this time, in greater numbers than any band that had assailed them on this night, a concentrated hammer of destruction that would smash through the defences all the way to the walls, and possibly break them open too.
The cheers had faded, all voices died, replaced by the horrified silence that prevailed over the Freeport line now. No one seemed even to have the strength to shoot at the grimm as they advanced.
We thought we won. We thought it was over.
But it wasn’t over. It was so far from over that it wasn’t even funny. There were so many grimm coming straight for them right now that Ruby didn’t know if Sunset would have been able to just poof them all away even if she’d had the energy. And it was clear from the stricken, hopeless look on Sunset’s face that she no longer had the strength. She had used it all to get them this far, but nobody else had the strength to carry them the rest of the way.
“Cinder,” Sunset whispered, her voice a hoarse and barely audible croak, “you should go. Get back to Freeport, join Cardin; if you can hold the wall, then after-”
“I’m not leaving you,” Cinder said.
“Someone has to reach-”
“I’m not leaving you,” Cinder insisted, in a tone that brooked no further argument.
Sunset let out a ragged sigh. “Then you’ll die.”
Cinder’s smile was touched by melancholy. “I’ve died so many times already,” she reminded them. “What’s one more death? And probably the best death that I’ve ever had.”
Ruby waited, wondering if perhaps Sunset would turn to her next, urge her to go… but she did not. The vow that they had made atop the ruined tower still held; if this fight led to their ends, then they would meet them together.
If only there was something she could do so that it didn’t end that way. If only her eyes worked when she wanted them to, if only she understood-
When we feel especially intense positive emotion – love, friendship, the desire to protect life – our eyes manifest in power unlike any other.
Her mother’s words, contained in her diary, passed down to her, for the benefit of future generations of silver-eyed warriors. Ruby hadn’t been able to make use of it before, she hadn’t been able to understand what it meant… or maybe she just hadn’t really felt it. Maybe Sunset was right, maybe her desire to die gloriously like her mother meant that she’d never felt the desire to protect strongly enough.
But she did want to protect life; she wanted to protect Sunset, she wanted to protect Yona and Smolder and everyone sheltering behind the walls of Freeport. And she was here with her best friend, with her sister, with someone she loved so much, so why wasn’t that enough? Why couldn’t it be enough?
Maybe… maybe…?
She had an idea. Maybe it was stupid; it was certainly a longshot, but it was worth trying, right? It wasn’t like they had any better ideas.
“Sunset?” Ruby asked. “Will you sing for me?”
Sunset looked down at her, her expression incredulous. “What?”
“Sing to me,” Ruby repeated.
“Do you really think this is the time?” Sunset demanded.
“I think this is the perfect time,” Ruby insisted. “Please.” She grabbed Sunset’s hand, squeezing it firmly but at the same time gently too. “Trust me.”
Sunset hesitated for a moment, glancing down at her hand in Ruby’s grasp. For a moment longer, she was silent, but then, slowly and softly at first, but her voice growing stronger, she began to sing.

Ruby closed her eyes as she stood on the firing step and let the melodic sound of Sunset’s voice bear away all other considerations. There were no grimm, there was no danger, they were not in imminent peril of their lives, facing creatures greater than ordinary grimm they did not understand. They had not barely escaped the Sun Queen’s plans with their lives, there was no Tyrian or Sami; there was only Sunset and her voice so full of kindness.

Unbidden, Ruby’s thoughts turned to the first time that Sunset had sung for her, and then to all the other wonderful moments that she had shared with Sunset, the way that she had always looked out for her from the moment they met, always been there for her. Memories of Sunset rolled into memories of Team SAPR, of Jaune and Pyrrha, of Blake and Penny and of their friends of RSPT too. Things had been rough, sometimes, sure – there were times when they had been desperate and dangerous – but there had been good times too, so many good times: picnics on the lawn, Vytal Festival parties, the dance.
They’d been so happy then, so happy and so full of love.
Ruby wanted that love and joy to come again, not only for them but for everyone. She wanted the darkness that had shrouded the world since the Battle of Vale to be driven back and disappear; she wanted to live.

She wanted to live with the people she loved the most.
She wanted life, for everyone.
Ruby opened her eyes, and the world was consumed by silver light.