//------------------------------// // 2-4 // Story: The Sparrow in the Storm // by The 24th Pegasus //------------------------------// “Commander Hurricane… was your father?!” Sparrow couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Her brain almost refused to process it. But Centurion Tern had said it, and judging by the way Typhoon scowled in his direction and how her wings seemed to pinch her shoulders, it was the truth. Tern, for his part, seemed amused by Sparrow’s shocked expression and Typhoon’s suddenly sour demeanor. “She seriously never told you?” he asked Sparrow, and when the young unicorn shook her head in disbelief, his attention shifted to the old soldier. “Why didn’t you tell her? Seems like you could have had a fan this entire time, ma’am.” “Because I don’t want a fan,” was Typhoon’s muttered answer. But the damage had been done, and Sparrow’s eyes had stars in them. “Your father was Commander Hurricane!” she repeated in awe. “Emperor of Cirra! Savior of the pegasi! One of the original triumvirs! And you’re… you’re his daughter!” Typhoon rolled her eyes and muttered out of the side of her muzzle, “Yes, that’s what being my father implies…” She fluttered her wings and puffed out her feathers, as if they were a shield that would ward away any more uncomfortable worship and gushing. “But I’m not the commander of anything anymore,” she said, and this time her eyes pointedly narrowed at the centurion standing across from her. “No matter what you may think. I’m not going to walk into your camp and start issuing orders. The Legion is defunct. Its dissolution was my last order. If you reorganized into your own Legion to protect the frontier in the absence of the Royal Guard, then you have my blessing. But I am not the commander of whatever formation you serve.” Tern opened his wings in a placating manner and respectfully dipped his head. “I did not mean to offend you, Commander—erm, Typhoon,” he hastily corrected at Typhoon’s disapproving look. “But for many of us out here, the Legion was the only thing that mattered to us. We saw its glory wither away as Platinum supplanted us with her disorderly band of conscripts and adventurers she calls the Royal Guard. We saw how she boxed you out, whittled away your influence, and downplayed the service and sacrifices you had made for Equestria. She didn’t even allow the Legion a proper death on the battlefield. It was her political backstabbing that defeated us. “But we still believe the Legion has a place,” Tern continued, and he resolutely nodded to emphasize his point. “If not in Equestria, then at least outside of it. The Legion is the history of the pegasi, of Cirra. Our history. And we will not let a unicorn destroy it from her throne.” “Ante Legionem nihil erat,” one of the soldiers behind Tern said, and the others nodded in approval. “Et nihil erit post Legionem,” Sparrow said, and when she suddenly felt the curious looks of a dozen pegasi fall on her, she coughed lightly and abashedly scuffed her hoof on the ground. “I, uh… I learned the words when the Legion saved me from the spiders,” she admitted. “That’s why I asked to squire for Typhoon. She didn’t tell me she was Commander Hurricane’s daughter, but she did tell me she was a soldier. Even though the Legion’s gone, they were there for me when I needed help. They gave me a second chance. Maybe I can give other ponies a second chance too.” “‘Squire’ is such a unicorn term, but I suppose given the circumstances the comparison is apt,” Tern noted, and he turned back to Typhoon with a curve along his muzzle that crept dangerously close to being smug. “If that isn’t a striking argument for what the Legion means for us out here, and what it still represents, then I don’t know what would be… ma’am.” Typhoon’s tail flicked and she glanced away, her eyes seemingly searching for something through the oaken sentinels around her. “There have been a lot of ponies who have wanted the Legion to be something it couldn’t be, or shouldn’t be,” the old soldier mused, and Sparrow cocked her head at the cryptic response. But Typhoon chose not to elaborate, and instead let her shoulders fall with a weary, if silent, sigh. “Sparrow and I have been walking from Boiling Springs for days now with little but trail rations and sleeping mats for comforts. Though an army camp is hardly a luxury, I would prefer to spend the night with pegasi I once called comrades around warm fires than under the quiet of the stars. Of course, I wouldn’t presume to take advantage of your hospitality—” Tern cut her off with a sharp wave of his wing. “Ma’am, our camp is well supplied, and it would be a great boost to morale for the soldiers to see you with their own two eyes. We’ve been skirmishing with those traitors in Dry Fens for weeks now. You can imagine how exhausting it must be to fight with somepony as equally trained as you are, especially when you called them brothers and sisters when diving into the spider tunnels just a few years ago.” Sparrow thought she saw something akin to pain wince across Typhoon’s face, though the veteran’s features quickly slid back to their usual stoic neutrality in the blink of an eye. “I’ve suffered that betrayal from brother and sister before,” she said with a small, slight nod. “But I thank you for your hospitality. It is appreciated.” “I don’t think any of us could call ourselves legionaries if we turned you away, ma’am,” Tern said. Then he turned to his subordinates, whose posture immediately stiffened when their commander’s gaze fell on them. “Rainy! Azure! Willow! Triumph! You four fly ahead to camp and inform the legate that we’ll be having guests this evening. Keep your eyes out for any more of those Remnant bastards. They’ll probably be sticking their nose someplace they shouldn’t once they learn that Commander Typhoon has blown in, and I don’t want anypony getting picked off by flying alone.” The four named pegasi saluted and took to the skies, slipping off through the trees in a wedge formation and quickly flitting out of Sparrow’s sight. When they were gone, Tern shifted his attention to the rest of his company. “Vortex, Tailwind, you two up front. Tempo, Shellack, you two take the rear. Whorl, you’re in the sky. I don’t want to get jumped on the walk home. I’ll escort the Commander and her companion, and then we’ll all sit around the fire and share ale and stories.” When the rest of his company dispersed on their assignments, Tern turned his attention back to the two mares and gestured down the road. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll have us safe and sound in Camp Stratopolis in an hour.” ­­----- The walk to Camp Stratopolis was peaceful and quiet, despite (or perhaps because of) Centurion Tern’s precautions, though it certainly hadn’t put Sparrow at ease. Walking along a trodden path under the thick canopy of trees, knowing that another company of pegasi could crash through them without any warning like before, kept the young unicorn on edge. But Sparrow noticed Typhoon’s sweeping gaze constantly scrutinizing their surroundings as they walked, and neither she nor Tern nor any of Tern’s subordinates seemed alarmed or brought their party to a sudden stop. Perhaps she would have felt better had conversation followed them between the trees, but there was little to be had. As much as she wanted to gush to Typhoon, to ask her what it was like to live in Everfree and command Equestria’s military, to grow up and serve with the legacy of her father, the Commander Hurricane, on her shoulders, it was abundantly clear even through her excitement that the old mare would not discuss it further. Typhoon hardly looked Sparrow’s way, and whenever Sparrow had dared to try and catch the soldier’s attention to start a conversation, Typhoon would frown at her and the words would die on her lips. Even Centurion Tern had given up on trying to engage Typhoon in conversation when the soldier had made it clear that she was not interested in discussing the events that led to the dissolution of the Legion, shrouded in mystery as they were to Sparrow, and even in some part to Tern. When their hour march had about ended, Sparrow nearly jumped out of her coat when several more pegasi appeared through the trees, dropping lightly to their hooves around her. Even Typhoon flinched at the sudden and quiet appearance of more armored figures, though Centurion Tern hardly moved. It took Sparrow only a second to recognize Whorl among their number, and when the soldiers gave Tern a salute—and wide-eyed stares to Typhoon—she realized they must have been sentries flagged down to greet them before entering the camp. “Legate Winds is waiting for you at his tent, sir” one of the sentries said, and when Tern nodded, the sentry turned to Typhoon and stood straight as a statue, his wings opening in a perfect salute. “Ma’am… it’s an honor to have you among us.” Typhoon paused, her eyes flitting over the stallion’s posture. “You’re a little young to have served in the Legion,” she noted, and after making that observation, Sparrow scrutinized him a little closer. His limbs were lanky but strong, a small tuft of blue hair sprouting from his chin akin to a youthful goatee. Sparrow pegged his age at around nineteen or twenty, and realized what Typhoon had. “I… wanted to join when I was a colt, ma’am,” the sentry said. “I was too young, of course. The Legion dissolved on my fifteenth birthday. Some gift that was. But the queen is incompetent and I had heard rumors that it still survived out on the frontier, beyond Everfree’s influence…” His words trailed off with a shrug. Centurion Tern used the moment to interject. “Legate Winds knows what he’s fighting for, what the Legion stood for. Many pegasi have flocked to his aquila in the years since the Legion was dissolved. From his standard, the legacy of Cirra, everything that the pegasi once stood for, will live on.” Typhoon regarded that sentiment for a moment, and her gaze flitted to Sparrow before jumping back to Tern. “I had made some effort to open the Legion to unicorns and earth ponies, too, during my term as commander,” she observed. “Yet you only mention pegasi. Why is that?” To that, Tern simply shrugged. “The Royal Guard was founded by a unicorn and conscripted earth ponies to fight the spiders in the tunnels. That, if anything, is their Legion, and that’s what they have proven loyal to.” Then he looked over his shoulder, far through the trees. “The traitors in Dry Fens welcome them, though. Bandits and criminals care not what dirty friends they bring to the table so long as they share greed and malice in their hearts.” “We heard from Triumph that you and the traitors skirmished before the Commander put an end to the fighting,” the sentry said. “I’m sure it was a sight to behold, but the Legate also wants to hear your report. He wants to wrap this business up, the sooner the better.” “He’ll have good news on that, then,” Tern said, and relief flashed over the faces of the sentries. “But the call is his alone to make. Plus, the Commander’s arrival will certainly change some things.” Typhoon’s wings twitched, and though Sparrow thought the old soldier wanted to argue that point, she only let out a clipped “We’ll see.” Then she pointedly fixed her attention on Tern. “If your legate wants to hear from you, you shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Tern nodded and waved his wing at the sentries, who all backed a step away and saluted. “I’m sure it’s you he’s most interested in hearing from, ma’am. But you’re right. We’re almost at camp.” He whistled once through his feathers, and the rest of his company fell in rank behind him while the sentries took the lead, leaving Sparrow feeling pointedly the odd unicorn out in a flock of pegasi. “Best not to keep him waiting, then.”