Chapter 18
“Medic! Somepony, please! Help!”
No one answered that cry.
No one, because there were hundred of others just like it on the walls. The wall was as wide as Canterlot’s main street, and every inch of it was covered in blood.
Silver Pauldrons’ hammer smashed into the head of one the oncoming griffons, killing it instantly. Unfortunately, the blow left him open. Another griffon was quick to take the opening, however, instead of soft flesh, his claws bit into the hard-mana of one of Shining Armor’s shields. Before the griffon could pull back to recover from his useless attack, Judgement ended him.
The three of them, Silver, Shining, and Alan, stood back-to-back-to-back covering each other as they weaved through the battlefield. Any griffon that came within their reach was soon ended.
“Fluttershy!” Alan yelled into his headpiece, “Where are those medics?”
“I’m trying!” the desperate voice answered.
Alan gave a frustrated sigh before running through another attacker as the griffon tried to take a swipe at Silver. The three of them moved together perfectly, hammer, sword and shield flying through the air in perfect sync with each other.
Alan though, for all of his finesse, felt sick. Ponies everywhere lay dead or dying and Nightingale Division was very slow to answer. They were dying, and somewhere, deep in his mind, he knew it was his fault.
Well, at least I can take my anger out on these morons.
His sword went through another griffon, ending yet another life, when Silver spoke. “By Celestia’s Glittering Mane, they just keep coming.”
“Well,” Shining smirked, “we’re just going to have to keep sending them back.”
Alan nodded. “You know we will.”
“Al!” Twilight’s voice crackled over the communicator. “The griffons are trying to take the first gate.”
Alan smirked. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“What?”
“Somepony said they’ve got it handled.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
The sun was setting, and the griffons were pounding away at the first gate, trying desperately to get a way in that didn’t go through the bloodbath that was the wall. Using their makeshift battering ram, a chopped down pine tree, they heaved with all of their might against the iron-banded oak gate.
The sound of splintering wood and groaning metal met them as they brought the pine forward before heaving it back to hit it again.
“Once more!” their captain yelled.
Again the pine flew forward and smashed into the gate. One of the mighty doors unhinged as the combined might of twenty griffons smashed into it.
The griffons cheered as the door blew open, and they dropped their pine to charge forward into the courtyard behind the first gate.
They made it through the gate, but their charge died instantly as they found themselves facing forty large buffalo.
Forty buffalo, each dressed in fierce warpaint, their horns gleaming.
One of them, the largest, dressed in a warbonnet and the fiercest paint of them all, stood forward. “Come, enemies of the Half Dragon. Come, and I will give you an honorable death.”
The wall suddenly didn’t look that bad...
<<<|Ω|>>>
The sun had set and the moon was rising, still the griffons climbed the wall, and still the ponies repelled them.
And while many a pony was down there at the front line, defending the walls until their last breath, there was an entire division on the fourth level that had not taken a single casualty.
This division was Nightingale Division.
Of the 150 field medics assigned to the division, only ten at a time were ever out in the field.
Of the 400 beds, only six were filled.
Of the 150 nurses and doctors, only 12 had patients, and even that was too many.
Fluttershy, the acting general, could only cry as she heard the yells and pleas of her friends, begging her to send out ponies to collect the wounded.
But she couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t send ponies out there. Out there, where they could easily die. Not out there, where their lives hung by a thread, but she didn’t dare keep them here, lest all the others die first.
She sobbed into her foreleg, trying to think about what she needed to do.
Send ponies to their deaths, or seal the fates of others?
Neither seemed like the right thing to do.
A sudden commotion from the entrance of her medical tent caught her attention and she lifted her eyes to see one of her more hesitant field medics carry in a unicorn on a stretcher.
Fluttershy blinked.
That isn’t...
Is it?
The nurses began to move, gathering blood packs, stitching thread, and gauze, swarming around the pony that just came in as the field medic sat down on one of the many unoccupied beds.
It can’t be...
She began to move forward, her eyes widening in fear as she approached the patient.
The doctors swarmed around the mare, jargon flying through the air as they began to talk about arteries and veins.
In the back of her mind, Fluttershy registered the fact that the field medic was now bragging about her daring exploits of saving the unicorn on the table.
More talk about lacerations and bleeding from the doctors, the nurses rushed to and fro, providing the professionals with anything they needed. Fluttershy caught sight of the mare’s flank between two of the doctors.
The lyre cutie mark told her everything she needed to know.
Her eyes widened as she approached the table, the doctors subconsciously making way for her as they began to work.
Lyra Heartstrings laid there on the table, unconscious, claw marks had raked her body.
There...there was blood everywhere.
“Lyra...” her voiced whispered.
Memories of when she first moved to Ponyville hit her.
She had been so young then, and she had begged her parents for years to get permission, but finally, she was able to move to the ground.
She had loved it a first, but eventually it became lonely.
She never spoke to anypony, and only really knew Pinkie, who had, as per tradition, thrown a party for her, but...
She had met Lyra once, her first friend in Ponyville while taking a walk. They had enjoyed each other’s company in silence, the unicorn thinking on whatever crossed her mind while Fluttershy appreciated the wildlife.
But now she was dying.
Lyra lay there, dying.
Her second friend.
“Yeah, I mean, I nearly died bringing this moron up here,” the field medic said. “She was like taking on four of them at a time, idiot.”
Fluttershy’s eye twitched.
“I mean, yeah, I had to wait for those guys to leave before I could get close, those guys would have ripped me up. But man, they whaled on her.”
Fluttershy lowered her head.
“They just kept going and going. Eventually they got bored and I was able to pull her out, but man, I have never been so close to dying.”
Now, across the multiverse there are a few constant fears. Phenomenon that, no matter who or what they come against, are feared. Tornadoes, for example. No matter where you are, or in what universe, tornadoes are respected as great destroyers.
Another such phenomenon is known simply as “FlutterRage.”
Fluttershy’s head snapped towards the field medic, her eyes fierce and her backbone straightening into an iron rod.
“Stand at attention, you pathetic coward!” she screamed. For a second she thought that that was too loud, too mean, but the image of Lyra behind her dismissed those thoughts.
The medic jumped, as did those to whom she was talking, fear in their eyes at the sudden outburst of their general.
Fluttershy gave the medic a long, hard stare.
She began to shake under her officer’s gaze.
Those eyes...Oh Sweet Celestia, those eyes!
“Name,” Fluttershy ordered.
“Q-Quicksilver, ma’am,” she squeaked.
“Quicksilver, why did you bring in this pony like this?”
“I-I...” Quicksilver stared into those eyes, her mind scrambling for some sort of defense, “I-I did my best, ma’am.”
“Your best?” Fluttershy asked, her body shaking with rage. “You did your best!?” Suddenly she grabbed the medic’s head and shoved it towards the stretcher.
In place of the eyes, the medic found her nose buried into one of the many wounds that covered the pony’s body. “Look at her and tell me you did your best!” Fluttershy screamed. “Tell me you did your best!”
Any word Quicksilver would have spoken were caught in her throat before Fluttershy brought the medic up to face her.
“Well!?” she asked. “Where is it? Is this really your best!?”
“I-I-”
“What? Did you think this was going to be easy? Did you think this was the easy job?”
Every eye was now on the raging general as she verbally tore at the pegasus before her.
“Ponies are dying out there, and you think you can just watch them die? Your job is to save them. Did you think that was going to be easy?”
“N-no, ma’am,” Quicksilver answered in a frightened squeak.
“Well then why are you still standing here!?”
Quicksilver never left a building faster in her life.
Fluttershy turned to others, who only stared at her in shock.
“Captain Redheart,” Fluttershy said.
“Y-yes, ma’am?” the earth pony asked cautiously.
“If you see anypony, and they’re not delivering patients, send them to me. I want to talk to them.”
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
And then, Fluttershy turned as her communicator crackled to life. “Alan, the medics are coming.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
Big Mac was a farm pony.
Well, a draft pony to be specific.
Now, what that meant was that he was born for one of two things. The first was pulling a plow. The second, war.
In short, Big Mac was born for this.
Everything the draft pony had come against had fallen to the side as if it were apple leaves in fall. He had long since abandoned the flail he had started with and had instead begun to focus every ounce of his strength into his kicks.
At first, a part of him questioned the effectiveness of such attacks, however, those fears were quickly put to rest when one buck had sent a griffon airborne.
He was born for this.
Of course, there is a problem with excelling at anything.
It makes you a target.
In Big Mac’s case, he was the target of twelve griffons. They had him surrounded on all sides, their claws ready to dig into pony flesh. He was backed up against the wall, his hoof a few inches from the edge, a sheer drop of fourteen tail lengths.
Big Mac’s head hung low, his eyes barely open.
They pounced, everyone trying to end the draft pony.
A flurry of powerful kicks sent the griffons flying, many nursing broken ribs or fractured beaks. A claw bit into his side, and a beak nipped at his leg. More kicks, and more griffons were sent flying.
They began to dogpile him, claws biting into him as they racked his flesh.
And that’s when the pony began to worry.
He had done too much that day, sent too many to their deaths, and while he may have been born for it, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take without rest.
He pushed up, using every last ounce of his strength to throw of his attackers as they bit and scratched.
With a mighty heave, he launched the griffons off of him, only eight left.
His legs were shaking with fatigue, struggling to just keep him on his hooves.
The griffons noticed, and began to close in around him, smiling evilly.
So this is how it ended, huh? He had always thought that the most exciting death life had to offer him was a tree falling down on him. Nope. Instead, he was going to die at the claws of eight griffons, covered in wounds and soon to be scars.
Whelp, you’ve had a good run, Mac. I guess it’s been fun.
The farm pony-turned-soldier held his head up high, his last act of defiance as he stared down the griffon soldiers.
Suddenly a yellow blur appeared between them. Big Mac blinked as one of Applejack’s friends, Fluttershy, appeared between.
The general of Nightingale Division stared down every single one of the eight griffons in front of her, using every ounce of her hidden power known only as “the Stare.”
The griffons paused, their evil grins fading away.
“No,” the pegasus said.
The griffons blinked.
“Nopony else is going to die today.”
The griffons stared at her before slowly backing up.
Big Mac blinked.
Fluttershy continued to stare.
Before long, the griffons dispersed, and Big Mac found himself ignored amongst the fray that pulsed around him. And then the pegasus turned, gave him a small smile, and began to lead him away.
Big Mac wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but right now, he wasn’t going to argue. Especially considering this young mare had just saved his rump.
<<<|Ω|>>>
“They’re taking the wall!” Alan yelled, “Fall back to the second gate!”
Morning rose over Canterlot Castle as the second day of the siege began. Over the course of the night Nightingale Division had finally began working and the wounded had been collected. Of course, the griffons had also made progress, slowly closing in on the arch over to the second gate.
“Fall back!” Silver repeated, sending his hammer through a griffon’s skull.
The ponies began to funnel backwards across the chokepoint, getting cover from unicorns already on the second wall and pegasi flying low to discourage any griffon’s from attacking from the sides.
“Come on, Darlings, quickly now!” Rarity yelled from the gate as she herded them in. Spike stood next to her, pistols drawn.
The dragon was dressed in minimal armor, goggles, gloves, pauldrons, and boots. He didn’t need too much considering his scales, but it certainly helped him look more intimidating. A dagger hung from a thick leather belt, along with a few holsters on his back. “Hurry up, we need these doors closed!” he yelled.
A griffon suddenly pounced on the retreating ponies, giving off a loud battle cry. He was silenced by the sound of thunder and green smoke filled the air.
Spike quickly threw a small paper cylinder into the air and with a quick jet of green flame, it disappeared. “Hurry!”
Finally the last ponies in the line went through the gate.
“Is that everypony?” Alan asked.
“That’s a negative, Al,” Rainbow’s voice said over the communicator. “There’s a squad of ponies that got separated. I’ve got a visual.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” Alan said before turning to the ponies. “Shining, with me. Silver, head inside and prepare to close the gate. Rarity, Spike, hold for as long as you can.”
“Sir! Yes, Sir!” they responded.
Alan quickly turned and saw the griffons approaching. “Shining, let’s make some room.”
“You got it!” he said, before his horn began to shine. Using every ounce of his magical control, he formed a triangular shield. “Get behind me,” Shining said.
Alan was quick to jump behind the pony, and they both charged. The incoming griffons were split down the middle as the two Equestrian officers ploughed through the ranks of the incoming soldiers.
Rarity silently hoped that the griffons would follow him. When they did not, she prepared her horn to begin launching as many illusion spells as she knew.
Fighting was not her strong suit. In truth, even illusion wasn’t truly her strength. Her true strength was gems. Illusions were a passing hobby she used to help her with her projects, but truly, it was nothing more than that.
She gulped as the griffons approached.
A comforting, and familiar claw lay against her neck. “Just relax, Rarity. I got this.”
“Spike,” Rarity began, “I hardly think—”
That was as far as she got before the young drake dashed forward, pistols firing.
Kra-Kra-Thoom!
The pistols fired, the lead balls trailing green smoke.
Two griffons fell, one for each bullet.
Sticking one under his arm, he quickly pulled out two more pre-loaded packs. He quickly tossed them in the air and engulfed them in his trademark green fire. Cocking the pistol in his hand, he fired again, pulling out a third of his self-dubbed “bullet packs.”
Grabbing the one under his arm, he brought it up, cocking both pistols again. He quickly took aim and unloaded both of them in quick succession.
Kra-Kra-Thoom!
Every single shot stopped a griffon dead in its tracks.
Holstering one of his pistols behind his back, he quickly pulled out another bullet pack and drew his dagger.
Rarity’s jaw fell as Spike set upon the griffons.
This wasn’t the Spike she knew.
He...he was different. His normal waddle was replaced with acrobatic jumps. His clumsy movements had been replaced with grace. His cute face and chubby cheeks were now the countenance of a hardened warrior. A killer. A dragon.
Before her was a true hunter. The top of the food chain, and even as a baby he was ripping through the enemy ranks.
She blinked, her mouth still open.
This...this wasn’t right.
Where was her Spikey-Wikey? The little hatchling she knew and loved? Where was her cute little helper?
Where had this knight in shining armor come from?
Spike deftly spun, his dagger slicing through fur and feathers as he single-handedly held the bridge. Another crack of thunder sounded as green-tinted smoke filled the air, and another griffon fell with a hole through his chest.
A sudden burst of red fire, not his usual green, erupted from his mouth, scorching the griffons in front of him.
Amidst the flames, Spike stood. He almost looked taller than he normally was. His emerald eyes stared defiantly at the ranks of griffons before him, a smirk playing on his lips. “You shall not pass.”
Silence.
And then a griffon leapt forward, and a steel-tipped claw came down on the young dragon.
Rarity watched in horror as the small form crumpled under the blow. Blood, draconic blood, flew through the air and the reptilian soldier flew towards her. He bounced, his head smacking against the marble.
Spike skidded to a stop right in front of her hooves.
He...he wasn’t moving...
Blood slowly seeped out of his chest, onto the marble floor in front of her.
Blood got on her hooves.
For a second, the world seemed to freeze.
Rarity stooped down, and carefully used her blood-stained hooves to reposition the small dragon, to get a good look at his face.
His chubby little cheeks. His cute little muzzle. His shiny scales.
The triple-claw gouge in his chest.
She began to shake.
“Spikey?” she whispered.
This was her Spikey-Wikey wasn’t it? The adorable little dragon who was always eager to help. The cute little guy who had a crush on her. The honest boy who would have gone to the moon and back for her...
“Spikey-Wikey?”
But at the same time...
At the same time this Spike was also a warrior. He wasn’t just a foal, he was—
Oh Celestia.
He was eighteen.
Eighteen.
A mere four years younger than her.
He...he wasn’t a foal. He wasn’t a foal at all.
He...he just looked like one.
How...
How could she treat him like that?
How could she just ignore every single advance like she had?
How...
“Spike?”
“Pipe?” one of the griffons repeated.
“No ya featherbrain, she said ‘Pike.’”
Her shaking intensified as she began to hold the boy closer. Her eyes shut, and tears began to fall down her face.
“Nah, she didn’t say Pike, she said ‘Slike.’”
“What in the seven hells is a Slike?”
“I dunno, probably dragon-ian or somethin’.”
Rarity whispered something.
“Hey, did she just say something?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
An unintelligible mumble followed, her eyes still shut.
“Dude, she totally just said something.”
“What’s she saying?”
As if to answer the griffon’s question, Rarity yelled. “His name. Was. Spike!”
Her eyes flashed open, and a dazzling white light erupted from them. Her horn was glowing blue, and suddenly, something happened.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Far below Canterlot, in a place that pony-kind had long since forgotten, crystals and diamonds had begun to grow in the deep places of the world. Those crystals, having rested in those homes for millennia, were suddenly called upon, and in answer, they rocketed upwards.
<<<|Ω|>>>
Twenty-seven diamonds shot into the air around Rarity, her mouth turned into a fierce snarl and her eyes leaking the magical energy that was flowing through her.
“You will not touch him!” she growled
Before a word could be said from the griffon ranks, the diamonds exploded, sending razor-sharp crystal shrapnel flying. The directed shards cut through skin like a hot knife through butter, and the first three rows of griffons died instantly.
The shrapnel suddenly reversed direction, and began to gather before the white unicorn. They quickly organized themselves, and in a matter of one and a half seconds, they had formed a sword.
A claymore. Made entirely of diamond.
“You will never touch him again!”
<<<|Ω|>>>
“Hurry!” Alan urged the lost squadron of infantry ponies. “We have to get back to the gate!”
Shining Armor, leading the way with his plow-like shield, ran as fast as he could with the ponies directly behind him. Further back, trailed Alan, who was silently cursing his human genetics for not allowing him to go faster.
Griffons were shoved aside by Shining’s shield, and the ponies rushed past before any of the could recover.
Alan had to deal with the faster ones, but luckily, there weren’t many.
He quickly noted that the second wall was now being climbed, but the griffon in front of him quickly took priority.
He sliced the beast down, and continued pumping his legs to try and catch up with the party he went to rescue.
Then his eyes spotted something.
In front of the gate was Rarity.
She was dirty, bloodied, and her eyes were shining white. There was also a large crystal sword flying through the air around her.
None of those was a good sign.
“Shining! Double Time!”
“You can’t keep up with double time!”
“I know, but we need to go faster!”
“Fine! Jump!”
Before Alan could ask what he meant by that, a disk of solidified magic flew next to him.
Alan blinked. “No way,” he said, before breaking into a smile.
He jumped onto the disk and with a powerful telekinetic throw, Shining sent the human flying forward.
Zooming over the heads of the griffons, Alan quickly closed the gap between himself and the white unicorn on the bridge.
“If you come any closer I’ll be sewing your coat into my new dress!” The dressmaker-turned-general shouted at the griffons.
The wise ones had decided to fall back to a better position. The fools rushed forward, but the wise ones kept silent about it. Survival of the fittest, after all.
This only proved more wise once the Pendragon flew overhead, dropping down to the ground in front of the berserk pony.
The crystal claymore came down in Rarity’s blind rage, but with an quick parry from Alan, it went soaring behind him, killing many of the more foolish invaders.
Alan moved quickly, approaching the snarling pony and brought his hand against her face in a hard slap. “Get a hold of yourself!” he yelled as the magic around her faded.
Rarity blinked.
Shining Armor quickly arrived behind the Pendragon, the squadron quickly crossing the bridge while Shining’s shield held the ranks back from the Pendragon, the General, and the small form laying on the blood-coated marble.
“I-” she began. “I-” her voice were quiet and timid. “Y-you’re right. That was terribly unladylike of me.”
Rarity went silent, as her eyes drifted to Spike.
Alan noticed, and quickly put his fingers along the dragon’s neck.
“I’ve got a pulse,” he looked up at her. “He’s alive, Rarity.”
She merely nodded before hanging her head.
“Come on, let’s get you two up to the medical tent. Shining, you’re in charge.”
Shining nodded as he began to back up towards the gate. Alan picked up the unconscious dragon and led them away.
Once Shining Armor crossed the threshold of the gate, the doors swung shut.
<<<|Ω|>>>
The medical tent was alive with the groans of wounded ponies.
Medics came in and out in a steady stream of arrivals, dropping off patients as they came before leaving to get more.
Alan recognized a few faces as he walked in. Off in the corner, Vinyl Scratch stood staring over an unfamiliar unicorn while Octavia sat on a nearby bed. Fluttershy was situated between Lyra and Big Mac, checking both of them over, the latter was covered in so many bandages that Alan could hardly recognize him. A handful of pegasi lay spread out all over the place, and Alan silently hoped they were fine.
A doctor approached him. Bags hung from under his eyes and his movements seemed slow. “Sir?” he asked, carrying a gurney beside him.
Alan carefully lowered Spike onto the bed. “Be careful with this one,” Alan said. “He’s a good friend of mine.”
The doctor nodded.
Rarity bit her lip as she watched them go.
“Go ahead and stay, Rare,” Alan said. “I’m sure he’d like to wake up next to you.”
Rarity hung her head, but trotted after the doctor as he carried the little hero away.
Alan scanned the room again, searching for any more familiar faces.
Then Alan saw him.
Off to one side lay a bruised and beaten pegasus, his hind legs had been removed, the stumps bandaged in bloody gauze, and his left fore-leg had been cut off at the elbow. His wings had also been amputated, leaving bandaged stumps as the only evidence of his race. Across his body ran more bandages, covering deep wounds. His face was mostly unscathed, however, his right ear was now missing. Only his right leg was untouched, but that just made it easier to identify him.
Who else other than Thundersight would wrap a piece of black cloth around his fetlock?
Thundersight saw Alan, and he shakily lifted his leg in salute. “Private Thundersight, reporting for duty, sir.” His sentence ended with a weak cough.
Alan approached, standing next to the bed of the injured pegasus. Thundersight had been broken. He had been maimed beyond hope, but, Alan noted, there was courage still shining in his eyes. The Pendragon knelt down next to the bed he lay on, “At ease, Private,” he said.
Thundersight nodded, lowering his leg. He blinked back a tear. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I failed you, sir.” The broken pegasus took a deep breath before continuing. “I-I can’t help anymore, sir.”
Alan held back his own tears, before shaking his head. “You’ve done enough.”
“No, I haven’t,” came the response. “There still so much that needs to be done. My-my dad always said I’d be a failure.” A tear streaked out of his eye. “He always said I’d never amount to anything.”
Alan lay his hand on the pegasus’ hoof. “Tell me what happened.”
“Sir, I—”
“Just tell me.”
Thundersight sighed, coughing again before he recounted what happened. “I-I was making my last round before checking back in with General Dash, when I saw three ponies outside the wall. One of them was unconscious. They were being chased by a small squad of griffons. They weren’t going to make it in time. So I did something stupid.” The pegasus smirked. “I dived at them, took out one of them before the others could react. I told the ponies I’d hold them off.”
Thundersight never noticed the silence that now permeated the tent as every conscious eye was now on him.
“The next thing I know, I was pounced by the rest of them. They ruined my wings, and I couldn’t fly away. Then one of them, a large brute with an eye-patch over one eye. He was mad at me, said I was going to be his next pet project.” Thundersight’s voiced wavered. “He-he took my wings first. Said he didn’t want me flying away. Then he took my legs. Didn’t want me running either. He...he was slow when he did it, careful to make the pain last...” Thundersight loosed a ragged breath. “He asked me about the flight safe zones. I told him to bite me. He did. I didn’t tell him anything, sir. Nothing, I swear.”
“I believe you,” Alan answered.
Thundersight sighed again. For a few seconds, silence hung in the air. “W-when he was done with me—” A cough interrupted him. “When he was done with me, they took my ear. Said he wanted a trophy.”
More silence.
Thundersight shook his head, “I don’t even know if those ponies made it...”
“We made it, dude,” a voice said nearby. Thundersight and Alan both looked at Vinyl. She stood only a yard away, tears falling from behind her shades. “We all made it. Thank you...”
Alan smiled, “See, you saved them, Private. You didn’t fail.”
“But—” more coughs, “but I can’t fight anymore, sir. I-I didn’t do much before, but now...”
Alan smiled, shaking his head. “If I had a handful of stallions like you, this war would be over now.”
“My-my Dad—”
“Was wrong,” Alan corrected. “You are not a failure, Private. You are a hero, and I am proud of you.”
Thundersight blinked, before a smile spread across his face. “Thank you, sir. I see you took a hit yourself.”
Alan looked down to the wound he received the other day, the bloodied bandage around his side looked worse than it seemed. It was not much more than a scratch.
“It ain’t much,” Alan said.
“No, I figured, but it’s still got to hurt, right?”
Alan smirked. “Like Tartarus.”
Thundersight laughed a bit, before he winced, sucking air through clenched teeth.
“Are you alright?” Alan asked. “Are you in pain?”
“The nurses...they say I’m bleeding internally,” Thundersight said, taking a breath. “But they're afraid to give me more painkillers...they think it’ll kill me.”
Alan nodded, “Is it bad?”
Thundersight ground his teeth together and nodded. “Yeah, it’s bad.”
Alan nodded, “What do you want?”
Thundersight looked up at him, as silence filled the room. He gave a weak cough before saying, “I-I want you to tell my family I love them. I’m going to die anyway”
Alan nodded, “Where are they?”
“Small town, called Trottingham. My wife, Daisy, she’s taken over the weather control for me...and Pip...my son, Pipsqueak, break it to him gently.”
Alan nodded, calling a nurse over. She had a syringe in her mouth.
Alan carefully took the syringe. “What’s Trottingham like?”
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Thundersight said, “Fields as far the eye can see, clear skies, and nothing to do but run. I liked running through those fields, it was fun.”
As he talked, he didn’t notice the syringe pierce his skin, and the painkillers flow through.
“I-I loved running through fields, the wind in my mane, the clean air in my nostrils. It’s too bad I’ll never run again.”
“Just sleep, Private, you earned it.”
“Sleep...” Thundersight repeated. “That sounds nice...that sounds very nice...”
The broken pegasus closed his eyes, and the gentle poison did its work.
Alan stayed until Thundersight had left.
Tears fell from his eyes.
Everypony in the room was silent.
Then Alan stood, and carefully undid the cloth from around the pegasus’s leg. He looked at it, before tying it around his own arm. He sighed, before looking down at the body. “You will be remembered,” he said, his face going grim. “You will be avenged.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
Twilight was alone.
She was doing well for being alone, but the fact still remained. The others had been scattered by the incoming griffons, but she would not let the have the wall. She began using every spell she knew, from wind blasts and fireballs to siren songs and telekinetic throws.
It was an incredibly expensive wall. Too expensive to let the griffons have it.
It had cost 23 pony lives.
Three new griffons climbed over the battlements, and Twilight quickly looked them over. Nothing too impressive about them.
She prepared another spell, a blast of wind to knock them over the wall. Back to where they had come from.
Suddenly she felt something smack into her horn and her vision swam as the magic released, a breeze instead of the gale she had been preparing.
Before she could recover, she was thrown to the side. For a second, in her disoriented state, she felt like she was flying. Of course, that made slamming into the marble that much more shocking.
She had been flanked, she realized, the new attacker coming from the side as she was busy with the ones in front of her.
She propped herself up, and got a look at her attacker as the world tipped like a drunk.
He was a large brute of a griffon, one of his eye covered by a patch. Around his neck hung a macabre necklace of flesh; the centerpiece of which was a grey ear.
The brute laughed. “Look at this, seems I get another trophy today!”
Twilight tried to get up, but as she did the world spun again, and she fell back to the ground.
“Oh, don’t worry little pony, I’ll make this quick,” the griffon said, approaching.
She tried to move again, but the hit to her horn had been stronger than she had thought.
The griffon smirked, raising his claw to end the lavender unicorn.
His claw came down.
Suddenly there was a flash of silver and a scream of pain.
Twilight blinked.
As though from nowhere, Alan had appeared, his sword ready.
The griffon’s claw fell to the ground.
Alan stood there, tall and proud. His knuckles shone white as he held the handle tight. He had seen Twilight on his way down, and upon seeing her alone, went to help.
But then he saw the griffon, and saw the necklace of flesh. He saw the missing eye, and he knew beyond a doubt, that this was the one. He ground his teeth together as he said. “Not on your life.”
The griffon grabbed at his new stump, his mind reeling, “Git tom...” he whispered.
The three other griffons looked at him. “What?”
“He’s in shock,” Alan noted. “I think he said ‘kill him.’”
Two of the griffons charged the Pendragon, and as they did, Alan noticed something.
They seemed to move slower.
His brain suddenly kicked into high gear, and he suddenly launched a kick at one of the attackers.
Steel toed boot met beak, and the latter fractured.
Alan suddenly moved again, his sword dodging between the legs of the incoming griffon. With two quick slices, he cut the achilles tendons.
Target still presents threat. Alan thought as he caught sight of the lion paws.
He quickly grabbed at the first griffon’s pinion feathers and yanked them out of the wing, rendering him flightless, and unable to kick with those legs.
Target neutralized.
The second griffon attacked him, moving in slow motion. The claw swipes were easy enough to dodge.
Judgement came up, and with a few quick twists, he sliced through the shoulders.
The griffon slowly fell on his face, his arms now useless. Alan quickly grabbed one of the wings, before he kicked it, breaking bone.
Target neutralized.
Time sped up again, and Alan was subconsciously aware that he had experience stage three for the first time. But that took second place as he stared at the griffon in front of him, and the necklace around his neck.
Alan jumped forward, bring his sword down on the beast’s wings.
He cried in agony as his feathery appendages fell to the ground. “Can’t have you flying away now, can we?” Alan mocked.
The griffon scrambled, trying to get away. Two more slashes, and the griffon was now legless. “Can’t have you running away either,” Alan said, and the griffon became very much aware of the familiarity of those words.
“No, no please,” the griffon began.
“Begging?” Alan asked. “You’re going to beg? A pony took this with defiance, and you are going to beg?” Alan frowned and his eyes narrowed. “Coward.”
The griffon began to crawl away, dragging his body with his only arm, “Please?”
Alan stepped forward. “Coward! You dare dishonor my soldiers!? You mock the ponies, call them weak, when you yourself cannot stand half of your own treatment?”
The griffon began to cry. “Please...”
“There will be no mercy for you.”
“Please.”
Twilight stared on, watching with eyes wide at Alan’s fury. The griffon, the only one who had not charged, did the same.
Alan grabbed the griffon by the neck and lifted him high. He brought his sword up, ready to make a downward strike.
“Alan!” Twilight called, fear gripping her as she watched his anger, her nightmares springing to mind.
Alan glanced at her, before, in a fluid motion, he cut the necklace from off of the griffon’s neck.
“Death is too good for you.”
The griffon started, eye wide.
Alan brought one of Judgement’s quillons down on the the griffon’s temple, knocking him out.
Slinging the limp body over his shoulder, Alan took a quick look at the other griffon. “What do you have to say about this?”
The griffon stared at him for a moment before blurting. “He was a coward and he deserved it.”
Alan nodded. “Spread the word,” he said, before turning to Twilight. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just dizzy,” she said.
“Come on, we’ve got a delivery to make.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
Back in the medical tent, Rarity sat next to Spike. It turns out, that the fall had done more damage than the actual cut. His scales had protected him for the most part, but he blacked out once his head hit the marble.
At her insistence, they gave him some painkillers, just enough to dull the pain when he woke up.
She watched him as he slept.
He was tossing and turning in his sleep, muttering as he did. “Don’t...don’t want to...want to stay young...don’t want them to die...”
Rarity had already began to piece things together.
The poor boy.
He suddenly sat up, screaming. His eyes were wide, and he was breathing heavy. Nopony else really noticed.
“It’s okay, Spike, I’m here.”
The small reptilian eyes fell on the white mare, her hooves and chest stained red with blood.
His blood.
He took a deep breath, “Am-am I dead?”
“No, Spike, you’re still here.”
The drugs in his system were messing with his mind. Things didn’t feel right.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Good,” Spike said, as he began to lie down, “I don’t want to die alone. I don’t want to live alone.” His mouth was working on autopilot, the drugs working their magic. “I don’t want to grow up being alone...”
“I know, Spike. I know.”
“Promise me you’ll be there, Rarity.”
“Be where, Spike?”
“When I die. I just don’t want to be alone.”
Alone. Poor Spike, that’s probably all he has to look forward to. Years from now, when she and her friends died of old age, Spike would remain. He would grow too big for Ponyville, and ponies would begin to fear him, and then he’d be all alone...
She wouldn’t want to grow up either with that kind of future ahead of her.
So she said the only thing she could.
“I promise, Spike. I’ll be there.”
“No you won’t,” Spike said, curling into a ball. “You’ll be dead too.”
<<<|Ω|>>>
Fluttershy watched as Alan dragged a dismembered griffon into the tent. “Keep him alive,” he said, “I’m not finished with him yet.”
She could only guess that he was the one who had hurt Thundersight.
Celestia be with him.
She checked Lyra again, still alive, still breathing. Then she checked Big Mac. The same.
She sighed. She should have been faster with this. Why did it take one of her friends to almost die before she got it?
Ponies were dead because she had hesitated.
In the end, the greatest kindness she could have given was to be mean.
“Thank ya,” a voice said, and she turned to see the bandaged Big Mac.
“I...um...”
“Ya saved my life, thank ya.”
“I...your welcome...”
There was silence for a moment.
“I guess I owe you one for this,” the draft pony said.
“Oh, you don’t have to...”
“Yeah ah do.”
“No, really, it’s fine—”
“Look, don’t be like Applejack, just take the help and be done wit it. Besides, it’d be mah pleasure.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Are you really sure?”
“Eeyup.”
--------------------------------
Next Chapter: the siege ends!
“Yeah and Alan gets—”
Pinkie! What have I told you about spoilers!
“Aw...”
“Just so you know, Miner, I hate you for this chapter.”
“Jerk! You killed Thundersight!”
So sue me.
Be sure to comment, thumbs up and all the rest of that junk. See ya next chapter!
Bye!
