//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12- Battle of Spear's Folly 
// Story: Whistling Rain 
// by Schwabauer 
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“Prince Consort, the Prussian soldiers that have been tracking us for the last three days are back. They have yet to notice my ponies flying above them.” 

Shining Armor nodded, turning to the captain of the day guard pegasi he had been gifted by Celestia. She stood inside of his command tent, erected at that night’s camp. For the last three days, the army had been marching steadily towards the Prussian colony. Thousands of pony guards were in the camp around him, polishing armor and sharpening weapons. Breathing in deeply he said, “This confirms that they are here to spy on our lines and numbers. Follow their pickets back to wherever they are making camp and force them away, try and parade them back into the colony. We cannot have them pass any more information on to their generals. I want you to depart as soon as you can, Captain Flashing Spear” 

“I understand, sir. I will leave at once.” With that curt reply, she wheeled about on her hooves and marched out into snowy camp. Fires crackled all around, keeping soldiers warm in the frozen wasteland. Tents were arranged around all the fires, about five per cluster, soldiers making themselves at home, or more likely, warm. Ponies were cooking sizzling stews over the fire, chatting amicably with each other, the war seeming more like a massive camping trip than anything else. Most ponies were completely unarmored, shedding the heavy crystal armor and leaving just their thick clothes over their coats. Out along the edges of camp sentries stood beside fires, their weapons leaning against each other as they kept their hooves warm and kept watch.  

Flashing Spear quickly found her unit, directing them up into the air with a quick, “We’ve got orders to hunt down and scare off the Prussian troops following us. We got to go now.” 

Without nary a second thought they began to flap their powerful wings, lifting their bodies off the ground. All of Flashing Spear’s guards were equipped with long eight hoof long lances, attaching along the side of their armor, sharp wing blades fastened over their feathers. As soon as they were airborne, they began to clamp jagged gold shoes over their hooves. The unit numbered about sixty ponies total, all pegasi. All the guards were white with blue manes, due to their enchanted armor.  

The sound of their wings beating barely carried, despite the cold winter air, as they flapped out over the horizon, their eyes set on three Prussians sitting on horseback watching the army rest.  



 

Gotter sat drawing the layout of the enemy camp in his book, sketching every detail he could make out at the distance, about a quarter mile away. He noted down the positioning of the sentries and the formation of the camp, counting the tents in the clusters. He eyed the clusters of ponies around the frankly inordinate amount of fires that scattered around the vast camp. His concentration was broken when he noticed a large contingent of flying ponies, pegasi he believed old legends called them, taking to the air in what looked like full plate with long lances attached.  

Gotter turned to his sergeant, who nodded to him and said, “Looks like we finally overstayed our welcome. Let’s go. We’ll try and lead them away from camp and lose them.” 

The trio quickly set off to the south, galloping in the direction of a small collection of buildings that lay along the midpoint of a distant hill. They rode through the heavy snow, their steads quickly tiring in their attempts to push through the foot of snow. Gotter, with much difficulty, stowed his book and pencil in a saddlebag as they rode, pulling his carbine from its holster once he did. Gotter used one hand to steer while he pointed the carbine slightly up towards the sky, bouncing with every step they took. The trio of dragoons slowly came to a stop, their eyes glancing at the sky. There was no sign of the gleaming pony air cavalry, no light glistening off of their finely polished armor. 

After waiting atop their horses for five minutes and seeing no sign of their suspected pursuers, the small team of Dragoons began to head Northeast towards their camp location.  



 

Captain Spear decided to hazard a glance down beneath the thick cloud cover the cold winter day provided. She poked head through the clouds to spy on the trio of Prussians. They were stopped just outside of the small farming village the army had marched by earlier that day. They were sitting on their horses, casting suspicious glances around the clearing. Their eyes began to rake the skies, and Spear quickly pulled her head back up into the cloud.  

She turned to address her pegasi, lances at the ready. She quickly told them that the Prussian spies were resting, and that so should they. At her urging they settled down from a ready stance to standing on the clouds, some of her ponies even laying down. Captain Spear rolled her shoulders, and readjusted her lance, clicking it into a more comfortable position.  

After several minutes Flashing Spear slowly, cautiously poked her head back through the clouds. The Prussians were still there, but were moving towards the Northeast, giving the Crystallian camp a wide berth. She gave them a few minutes to continue on, before pulling her head out of the clouds. With a short shout she directed the company to follow her, and they began to slowly follow the trotting enemy scouts. 



 

The trio had reached camp without further worry, their guards thoroughly dropped. They dismounted and tethered their horses with the rest of their company, before making their way to a camp fire. Gotter gave the notebook to their captain, who deftly read and transcribed copies of the information and attaching them to bird carriers, which were swiftly released to head towards the main army’s camp. 

With his duties completed, Gotter took to feeding and grooming his horse, brushing its mane and coat. His auburn brown horse had been raised in the Austrian Alps, making it particularly resistant to cold weather, and effective at navigating rough terrain. Upon receiving it, Gotter found it appropriate to name it Augen, given the color of the coat matching the eyes of his wife. Gotter’s wife, Louse had arrived in the newest world, just in time to help Gotter commission a small wooden house with three rooms, one for them and two for any hopeful children. Fate would be kind on the married couple, with Louse becoming pregnant just weeks after their first arrival. 

It had been a year since then, and Louse had given birth to a beautiful baby girl, her hair matching the dirty blond of her father, and her eyes of that of her mother. As if in celebration of this wonderful event, Louse was swiftly heavy with another child, about two months pregnant when Gotter was called to war. He left their now well furbished home, which was had a constant warm glow. He remembered promising her ‘It would be just a short year’ before he would be home again, promising her he’d help raise their daughter and her younger sibling as soon as he could. Turning away from his horse Gotter smiled softly at the thought of returning to a warm, brimming home with toddling daughter, loving wife and newborn infant greeting him at the door.  

Gotter began to approach the central fire of the camp, his eyes watching out past it, through the trees to his home. A sudden shifting from the men around the fire brought him out of his revelry, his eyes narrowed as he saw them leaping up, finger pointing to the sky as they reached for their weapons. 





 

Flashing Spear could see the enemy camp rapidly getting closer. She made sure her lance was level as she began to level her dive out, ever so gradually shifting from an almost vertical fall to sweeping slope. Fifty yards above the camp she roared to her ponies behind her, “FOR EQUESTRIA! FOR THE CRYSTAL EMPIRE!” 

Forty yards. As she ground raced even closer she shot open her wings in such a manner that she gained control of her flight without loosing the kinetic energy built from the dive. She spied a lone Prussian walking from the tethered horses towards the rest of the camp and zeroed in on him, pumping her wings to build even more power behind her lance.  

Five yards. The Prussians in the camp had scrambled to their weapons, a couple managing to create huge puffs of smoke and orange puffs of fire, but no magic bolts raced out to meet her. Instead she heard the shattering and breaking of metal and the sounds of a ponies smashing full speed into the earth. Hearing her guards drop brought anger to her, causing a great, surge of power through her wings, Flashing Spear aligned it center mass, preparing to carry him high into the sky. 



 

Gotter heard the first carbine shots ring out ahead of him, and he froze for a moment. Then the sight of more of his comrades raising their carbines brought sense to his legs, and he dove down for the ground, bringing his hands to cover his face. 

And then a lance punched through his steel helm, ripping the straps from his neck with a painful crack and was carried away. He felt the air rush as a pony raced over him, quickly pulling up into the sky it’s lance catching sunlight and temporarily blinding him with a flash,. The pony’s wings flared out wide, slowing it’s ascent and it fell back, almost like one could imagine an angel would, racing back to the ground. 

Gotter scrambled to his feet and drew his sword, wheeling about and seeing the enemy sky lancers rushing through the camp. Two Prussians lay motionless in the snow, hot read blood melting puddles about them. Some feet away splatters of blood stained the snow. Along the outskirts of camp three broken, shattered ponies lay in balls of snow, their lances bent and snapped, pointing to the sky like twisted church steeples. 

From behind Gerald could hear the whistle of air and feathers, and he lunged to the side, turning and slashing as he did. He brought his sword down across his body, cutting through the ends of a golden armored pegasi, sending it careening into the ground, where it bounced before landing squarely on its neck and issuing a sick, wet snirk,not dissimilar to the sounds of a horseman thrown at full speed. 

Gotter cast his gaze about, before rushing to the horses and slicing the tethers as fast as he could. 





 

The surprise assault was not going nearly as well as Flashing Spear had hoped. The decisive ambush that she had planned for had fallen apart when she led them out of the clouds far to early, giving their soldiers time enough to scramble to any readied weapons. But who even kept pre made magic wands fully prepared at all times anyways?! She didn’t even see an arcane glow from their usage, only smoke, fire, and a snapping whistle that seemed to pull at the very air, before huge holes punched through her ponies’ gold armor. 

The initial charge had led to five ponies being shot down, or in one case slashed at by a Prussian she had narrowly missed, his helm still punctured on her lance. Her second pass nicked one in the throat, tearing flesh away and through the spine, sending blood everywhere. The sight was still slightly off putting to Flashing Spear, even after fighting through the Changeling invasion.  

Now the Prussian troops were all mounting their horses, several sending out last desperate shots at her lancers. As she surveyed from above an invisible magic bolt ripped through the eyes of one of her ponies, pulling bone and flesh from the skull that fluttered to the ground behind his body. Blood sprayed from both the holes and speckled the snow.  Springy Hop, that was his name. He had been in the unit longer than she had. Joined to feed his younger siblings after his parents passed away due to a freak bungee jumping incident. 

She gave a rallying cry to her remaining force of thirty-eight lancers, drawing them away from the fleeing Prussians. They quickly pulled up and broke off from the engagement, flying into a triangular position behind her. She set off in pursuit, following behind them as they amassed a formation that was similar to her own, but was more diamond shaped. Counting from above, she saw that there were thirty-five Prussians riding beneath her, frequently casting glances up. 

The lead of the company of Prussians suddenly veered off to the east, riding full speed with his coattails trailing behind him. Flashing Spear raised a hoof in encouragement, before wordlessly leading the second charge of the hour down upon the Prussian backs. Lances sparkled in the sunlight beside her as her ponies pulled along side her, gaining speed. 

With the element of surprise long ago given up, she began to whistle through her teeth, hoping to incite terror and fear in the Prussian soldiers riding along before her. Soon her subordinates took up the act, a chorus of shrill whistles piercing the winter air. They rapidly gained on the Prussians, aiming for where they’d be in just five seconds. 

And just as suddenly as Flashing Spear started the charge, the Prussians halted. Their speed dropping off in an instant, horses turning to the sides and kicking high. This caught her unit by surprise, overshooting the Prussian soldiers and forcing them to pull up in steep, power killing angles. And then a thunderous roar erupted from behind her, and a searing pains bit into— if only for a moment— her spine and left fetlock.  She felt absolute agony for just a second, before she lost all feeling and her wings went limp, flailing into her vision. Her eyes widened as she saw the sun— which barely peeked through the clouds, as if to watch it’s finest pegasi officer fail her duty— traveling rapidly across her vision. A small gasp escaped her at the sickening sense of shame and failure she felt. Then all she could see was snow racing up to meet her, and then she saw and felt nothing at all.