We left the Hollowed stallion to his rest, after we’d regained our own strength. While I felt dissatisfied with merely leaving him there, he insisted on going it alone. We’d see if he made it to Canterlot; I dearly hoped he would, instead of remaining there by the side of the road forever.
The route we walked back to Ponyville was long and winding, around the south edge of the Canterhorn range. It was frustrating to take such an indirect route, but the quickest route would have taken us back through the cursed tunnel that had taken Merry May, and none of us wanted to repeat that experience. The road may have been long, and we may have only been safe in the fog for as long as it took a wandering demon to notice us, but at least we wouldn’t be lost in the dark.
We didn’t exactly space ourselves out much; ponies naturally grouped together when traveling, for warmth and for safety within the group. Still, it was a bit of a surprise when Trixie broke the silence of the fog with a question. “Did Celestia tell any of you why she wanted to speak to me?”
We glanced at each other, and after a moment, Raindrops shook her head. “No? She was pretty focused on the Element, but she did seem genuinely concerned for you. She wanted you to be brought to Canterlot whole, sane, and alive, if possible. I’m not sure if she actually had a reason, or if she just wanted to keep ponies from murdering you and taking the Element by force.”
“Right, wonderful.” Trixie said, with an exasperated sigh. “So maybe nothing, maybe more.”
“If it helps any,” Raindrops said quietly, “I’m not really looking forward to speaking with her myself.”
This olive branch was denied, however. Trixie was lost in her own thoughts, and it didn’t seem like she’d even heard Raindrops. I gave our leader a gentle head bump to get her attention, instead. “W-why’s that?”
Raindrops glanced back at Trixie, then sighed sadly as her eyes tilted down at her hooves. “We got them, but we lost so many ponies in the process. Ponies that were under my command, that were my responsibility—that were my friends, even if we didn’t know each other all that well. And now they’re Hollow, or worse, and whatever’s left of them...we left behind in Baltimare.”
“You handled it well.” Maud stated simply, from Raindrop’s other side.
Raindrops shook her head in sudden exasperation. “Is it always like that? The weight of the world on your shoulders? Knowing that other ponies are depending on your leadership to keep them alive? Is that what being a knight of the Golden Guard is like, all the time?”
“Sometimes.” Maud spoke bluntly, but every word was measured and deliberate. “I don’t have much experience leading big groups. That was Pinkie’s area of expertise. I just consulted on dragon scales, and lent a hoof in battle when she needed me.”
“Oh, that's all?” Raindrops muttered. After a moment, she shook her head. “I can’t do that. Not long-term. If being a knight requires doing this, all the time...I can’t handle it.”
Maud looked back at her, and tilted her head. “You’re not interested in the knighthood any more?”
“Not after this,” Raindrops said quietly. “Posey was stronger than I was, in spirit. She knew she’d made a mistake, but she still came with us into those tunnels. I should have had her wait outside. But she came along anyways, even though she couldn’t fight.”
Maud seemed saddened by that, in her usual restrained Maud way, like a minute flaw in the surface of a stone—I thought I was starting to grasp her mannerisms a little better by now. “I understand. Where will you go, then?”
Raindrops shrugged. “Back to Ponyville. Back to the Irregulars. There’s a lot of other ponies still in that town; ponies like Posey and Merry May, who can’t fight. So I’ll have to fight for them, and keep them safe.” She looked back up at Maud. “Can you report to the Princess for me?”
“Yes. And I’ll put in a good word for you, even if you’re not interested in the knighthood. You deserve commendation for your leadership and conduct, even if you don’t feel that way.”
Raindrops looked as though she wanted to argue, but she didn’t seem to have the energy for it. “Alright. Thank you, Maud.” After a moment, she ruffled her wings, and the metal wingblades she’d picked up for the mission rattled against her armor. “I’m keeping these, though. They’re good blades, even if I never really got a chance to use them properly.”
There was the barest hint of a smile on Maud’s face. “That’s fine.”
After a moment, Maud seemed to remember something, and reached back into her pack, still spattered with dried changeling blood. From within, she pulled out a folded bundle of cloth, wrapped in leather. “Trixie.”
“Hm?” Trixie took the offered bundle in her magic, and unrolled it. Her eyes lit up, as she recognized the star-spangled pattern, and a moment later, the Great and Powerful Trixie was wearing both her hat and her cloak, as though she’d never lost either of them. “Oooh! I missed these. Feels good to be wearing my full outfit once again!”
After a few moments, Maud added, “You should thank Holly. She got it from the jail for you.”
Trixie huffed, as she drew her cloak up around her withers for warmth in the fog. “Well. I don’t see why that’s really necessary, since we’re heading back to Ponyville anyways—”
“Trixie.” Both Maud and Raindrops stated her name bluntly, to make clear that it wasn’t a suggestion.
“Ugh, fine. Thank you, assistant.” Trixie said sardonically, without even looking in my direction.
“You’re w-welcome,” I responded quietly, and a little more sharply than was perhaps needed. I had to keep myself from spitting the words. “And f-for the rescue, too.”
“Ah, I’m going to reserve any thanks for that, I should think. After all, you didn’t do it out of the kindness of your hearts, or because any of you particularly liked Trixie, am I correct?” Trixie glanced between the three of us. “After all, it sounds as though you were ordered to do so by the Princess, as an afterthought. Her focus was on the Element of Harmony.”
“W-we still saved your life, T-Trixie.” I grumbled.
“Oh, I’m sure the Great and Powerful Trixie could have escaped from that if she’d really wanted to do so. Perhaps it would have taken a bit longer, but no prison can hold Trixie forever.”
My voice became a feral growl. “M-maybe I should haul you back to that hive s-so we can test that—”
“Hey hey hey! Break it up, you two.” Raindrops stepped in between us before the argument could escalate further. “We’re almost to Ponyville—don’t start this now. Let the Princess have her first, then I’m sure she’ll let you two hash out your differences, like civilized mares.”
With another huff, Trixie pushed forwards a bit more, so that she was a dozen paces ahead of the rest of the group. She didn’t go any further than that, but it put a clear distance between her and us. I decided to follow her lead, and dropped back a few paces, so I could grumble in relative privacy.
At least, until Gilda dropped onto her claws, so she could walk beside me. “Jeez. Some ‘friend.’”
I shook my head. “Not my f-friend. Not sure sh-she ever was.”
“Yeah. I get that. They talk all nice, but when the chips are down, where are they?” Gilda ruffled her feathers, and leaned in close, to speak quietly. “After the story you told me, I’ve been kind of wondering how this meeting was going to go. If I was in your horseshoes, Holly? I probably wouldn’t have bothered saving her at all.”
I let out a snort. “I’ve b-been thinking about that.”
Gilda chuckled. “I bet you have. Did you think she was gonna apologize? That’s not how jerks like her deal with this stuff. Nah, all they’ll give you is dismissal and platitudes. I’ve been burned too many times for it myself.”
After a moment, I looked back at her. “W-weren’t you heading to Canterlot f-for revenge? B-because a pony hurt you?”
Gilda chuckled. “She didn’t hurt me herself—nothing except my trust. But yeah, I get what you’re saying, the whole ‘fool me twice, shame on me’ thing. I get I’m a little hypocritical. But this pony that hurt me? I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t betray anyone else like that, ever again. I’m not gonna trust a jerk like that again, either. You never get anywhere by trusting jerks.”
I glared at Trixie again. If she felt the heat of my glare on her back, she never gave any indication of it. “S-sounds like a good rule.”
“I’d like to think so,” Gilda said, with a prideful clack of her beak, before she leaned in close again. “And hey...if you ever wanna really follow my example? I’ll back your play.”
It was tempting. Sorely tempting. It would put that smug mule in her place.
But I shook my head. “C-Canterlot first. The P-Princess wants her alive. Af-after that, though…”
“I getcha.” Gilda said with a smirk, before she took to the sky again. We continued onwards towards Ponyville, with Gilda overhead again, watching the road for hazards ahead.
* * *
We weren’t far from Ponyville when we heard the sirens.
They sounded like old weather warning sirens, long and droning—they were designed to be hoof-cranked when a pony spotted a tornado, or some other form of wild weather coming. They were a warning for everypony who could hear them to get inside, where it was safe. But the fog distorted them, and the warbling sound echoed strangely through the mist.
I wasn’t the only one to recognize them; Raindrops bristled as she heard the sound, and spread her wings. “Oh no. Come on, let’s move! Ponyville’s under attack!”
“What? Ponyville’s always under attack, what are you talking about?!” Trixie whined, as we all broke into a gallop. Gilda swooped low overhead to stick close, so we wouldn’t lose each other in the fog.
Raindrops glared back at Trixie. “Yeah, and they don’t use the sirens for that anymore! That means this is different, or the demons got through the wall! We need to help!:”
“If the demons already got through the wall, how much help would five mares—”
We’d seen the silhouette of the wall through the fog before, but as we broke through and saw it clearly, we all froze. The section of wall we’d approached had been blasted apart, and the buildings on the other side were burning, but the demons we’d suspected to be the culprits were nowhere to be seen. Instead, dozens of skeletons, empty eyes glowing red, turned to face us.
Longingly, my hoof slapped against my flank, hoping I’d grab the grip of that enchanted mace once more. But that weapon was long ago lost in the black lake.
They’d been crawling over each other to get through the shattered breach, and they clearly hadn’t expected anypony to come from behind. That was the only reason we had any sort of advantage against so many, because it meant that they had to disentangle their bones from each other and turn around to face us. The ones at the back were the first to charge towards our group, their teeth chattering as they galloped to battle.
They ran headlong into a wide swing of Maud’s greatclub, and the bones that weren’t pulverized into dust were scattered across the foggy field in seconds. “Holly! Trixie!” She raised her voice only so that we could hear her; she still spoke in her usual unhurried monotone. “You fought these before. How do we kill them?”
“Smash them! Smash them and scatter them and burn them!” Trixie cried, lobbing a pair of sparkling fireballs from her hooves gracefully.
I looked up to Gilda, who had already loosed an arrow or three from her bow, and seemed hesitant to fire more once she saw how little damage they did to the undead. The arrows barely scraped or chipped the bone, whenever they didn’t pass right between the ribs of our enemy. “G-Gilda! There’s a N-Necromancer around here, m-maybe more than one! F-find them, and k-kill them, that will st-stop these skeletons!”
Gilda snarled and leapt into the sky, and a moment later, even her silhouette was lost in the fog. She’d find them, I was sure of that—and she could probably kill them without ever being spotted. But what of us, and what of the town? How many had already gotten through? Enough that the siren was still being wound, clearly. Above the town, black smoke from burning cottages within was darkening the sky, and soggy ash had begun filtering down towards us.
Maud clearly had the same thought. “I’ll clear a path. We need to protect the town.” Then she strode forward confidently, swinging Avalanche in wide sweeps that scattered the skeletons before her. Raindrops and Trixie followed behind, blasting and slashing at any stragglers. I took up the rear, jumping and stomping on the skulls of any skeletons that were still moving after the others had passed by. The bone fragments immediately started to pull themselves back together, but it slowed them down, at least.
After clearing the first wave, Maud moved onto the gaggle of skeletons clogging the breach in the wall. She did nothing fancy; all she did was swing Avalanche high, and bring the weight of the massive stone club down upon the pile. There was a single uncomfortable cracking noise, as powdered bones scattered from underneath and were tossed away from the point of impact. Then she swung it back around onto her own back, and leapt over the pile of dead, crushed skeletons she’d left in her wake, into the town itself. We followed, although Raindrops took to the sky soon after.
After we scrambled through the crack in the wall, I glanced around, while the other three started dispatching errant skeletons. There seemed to have been a crude barricade built up around the breach, but it had already been overwhelmed—a few defenders of ponyville lay scattered around us, including one unlucky stallion who had been impaled on the spiked barricades as though he’d been thrown. It was possible they hadn’t been drained, if the skeletons had simply wanted to get inside and cause as much damage as possible, instead of Hollowing every single pony they came across. But there was no way to be sure.
Maud had already begun to bolt forward into the town. “Holly, Trixie, hold the breach! Raindrops, with me!” They were both gone a moment later, and Trixie and I looked at each other, then the crack in the wall.
Okay. Hold the line. We could do this; Maud smashed most of them already, and Gilda was hunting the necromancers in the fog.
A dozen skeletons scrambled through the breach, and I felt that confidence wane sharply as I realized I still didn’t even have a weapon. Trixie tossed more fireballs into the crowd, as I started rummaging through the fallen for a spare sword, but it looked as though the skeletons had taken them as they pushed into the town; the best I could grab was a mare’s backup dagger. It would have to do.
Another skeleton leapt at me, and I shoulder-checked it, then grabbed the ribcage as we fell to the street together. The long-dead pegasus chattered their teeth at my throat as I started stabbing at their skull with the dagger, but all I could do was chisel dusty chunks out of the bone and blunt the tip. After a few attempts, I tossed it aside and just grabbed their skull directly as it bit me. I grit my teeth through the pain, and slammed the back of the skull against the cobblestones a few times, until it shattered.
I felt the heat of more fireballs pass over my head as I stood, with my leg now dripping ichor. Trixie waved to me. “Back here! We’ll toss fire at them from a distance, assistant!”
“I’m not your assistant,” I grumbled, but I followed her lead and galloped back to the barricades. As I did, I felt something else brush past me, but when I jumped in surprise, there was nothing. A piece of trash, blowing in the wind, perhaps?
We seemed to have cleared the first wave of skeletons, and there was a momentary lull as I leapt behind the barricade, beside Trixie. I still couldn’t find a proper weapon, but the barricades weren’t more than sharpened logs, and a few had come loose. I yanked a length of wood out of the barricade itself, and focused on the breach in the wall. I needed my fire; I still couldn’t sling fireballs as casually as Trixie herself could. But thinking about her made them come easier.
But as I glanced over at her, I could tell something was wrong. She was still standing in the same position she had been, staring at the hole in the wall. She was intensely focused upon it, and the skeletons that had begun stumbling through as the beginning of the second wave.
“Tr-Trixie?” I waved my hoof in front of her eyes. “W-what are you—”
Trixie waved again, exactly as she had before. “Back here! We’ll toss fire at them from a distance, assistant!”
“W-what—” The skeletons began to stumble towards us, but I was too focused on the mare beside me. I jabbed at her side...and my hoof passed right through her.
Trixie, or the illusion of Trixie, dissipated into a shimmer of light. She was already gone, and she’d left me by myself here. She’d left a copy so I wouldn’t see her run, so I thought we were still holding the line together. She’d abandoned me here—Trixie had left me to die, yet again.
Damn it. Damn it all. And damn her in particular. I should have left her to die in the hive, or killed her on the road with Gilda’s help. Now I’d never have the chance.
The crowd of skeletons approached, and all I had was my fire and the log in my hooves. The fireballs came easy now; I scattered the front of the line, but more came in moments, and I had to swing my club at them wildly. Skulls were smashed and bones cracked, but there was always more. At one point, maybe a third of the skeletons suddenly fell apart as their life fled them—Gilda must have found one of the Necromancers.
But there were still too many. Teeth clamped down on my foreleg, and I was tackled to the ground as they bit and chewed and tore at me. The last thing I saw was my own weapon, that sharpened log, as it was wielded by one of the numberless skeletons.
It slammed into my breast and pinned me to the street, and all went dark, except for the crushing pain of being impaled.