//------------------------------//
// XXII: Soldier's Mettle 
// Story: The Stranger and Her Friend 
// by TheUrbanMoose 
//------------------------------//

“Halt!”

A sudden burst of Voice echoed over the field, stopping all who heard it in their tracks.

Trotterdam was just north of them, its boundaries beginning at the bottom of the gently sloping hill atop which they stood. The first, crumbling building was set a little over a mile away. They had a perfect view of the layout of the town, and of the filth that was stirring within.

It was not much bigger than Ponyville, Lucky noted. Nor did it look terribly different, both in construction and current state of being. Trotterdam lacked the sophistication of its cousins to the north and south; thatched roofs and wooden walls were the norm. It was also utterly devastated, its damaged and destroyed structures serving as clear markers of conflicts past. 

“What do you think, Lieutenant?” Lucky said, not taking his eyes off the scene before him.

“Mmm…” Apple Crumble tugged at his beard, eyes squinting at the landscape. He grumbled under his breath, reciting facts, figures, and attack strategies, mentally organizing himself. Eventually, he moved his hoof away from his beard, and gave a deep hum.

“It’s a beautiful day fer a battle.”

Lucky looked to the sky. It really was. The sky was a dark, cloudless blue, and the morning air was crisp and clear. The fair weather was courtesy of the weatherponies of Draft, who would ensure it stayed that way. The same pegasi were responsible for the utterly contrasting weather to the northwest of them; mountainous black storm clouds hung over the distant tip of Hollows Forest, driving rain and fierce lightning trapping the timberwolves sheltered within. The 21st would be safe as far as that direction was concerned.

The sun had yet to rise over the horizon, but some of its light skimmed across the atmosphere, letting them know that it was indeed almost morning. In about fifteen minutes, Clover the Clever, along with many other unicorns all across the continent, would raise the sun. At the first glimpse of yellow, horns would sound, and their attack would commence.

“It is,” Lucky responded simply. He could not take his eyes off of the town. “Any last minute suggestions? Changes of plan? Radical ideas?”

“Last minute changes of plan?” Crumble snorted. “Those aren’t my domain, commander. What do you think?”

Lucky saw a blur of black move between the distant streets of Trotterdam. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I already told yeh, I think the battle plan is sound,” Crumble said. “Nothin’ special, sure, but not everythin’s gotta be a maneuver fer the history books. Sometimes, straightforward is the best way to do things.”

“I know that,” Lucky muttered. “I feel like the battle plan is fine. The battalion will make it through this, no problem.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. He paused in thought. “Something else.”


**********


“Halt!”

Every soldier, in both divisions, stopped at the sound of the Voice. To Celestia, its tone and grit were very familiar.

The 14th Mixed Unit Division stood closely behind the 21st, ready to participate in the oncoming battle if need be. They were nearly triple the size, and boasted about half the effectiveness. While the ranks of their soldiers stood in close proximity to the 21st, there was absolutely no confusion as to who belonged where. In appearance, the soldiers of the Maiden’s Battalion were drastically distinguished from their regular army counterparts.

The build of their armor was of uncommon efficiency and exceptional quality; the earth ponies had sliding plate to cover the vulnerabilities of moving limbs, the unicorns had their cloaks to protect from spells, and the pegasi’s armor was cleverly designed to maximize protection and minimize weight.  They were all costly and rare, not something a more “normal” division might have.

However, what truly drew them apart was not the quality of their armor, but rather its style. Every single set was colored in gleaming gold of unmistakable brightness and origin. The plate was inlaid with intricate, flowing patterns, accented by the scars of past battles. When grouped together, the collective gleam of their armor was beautiful, inspiring, and very intimidating.

There was no other force with armor quite so “bright”. Normal divisions of Equestria’s military were issued the standard, straightforward steel. Even the Royal Guard of Canterlot and Equestria’s other large cities generally wore only a grey steel armor trimmed with royal purple. Not so with the 21st. Upon the insistence of its former commander, they became something else.

Soldiers of the Maiden stood out amongst their fellow ponies, each seeming to serve as an individual beacon of sunlight amongst the grey of the battlefield. The gold could be spotted from afar, and when fighting joint battles with Equestrian regulars, soldiers seemed to gravitate towards them amidst the chaos. Even the lowest of the Maiden’s soldiers could serve as a figure of leadership, and oftentimes did.

As such, traveling with the Maiden’s Battalion while simultaneously remaining incognito was, as Celestia quickly discovered, a surprisingly difficult task.

“Oi, watch it.”

“Sorry.”

Celestia kept her head low and shuffled over, making way for a unicorn traveling through the ranks.

It would have been impossible to try and hide herself within the ranks of the 21st. Everypony knew practically everypony else, and everypony especially knew her. She would be recognized in an instant. Plus, every one of the Maiden’s soldiers knew exactly where they were supposed to be, and what they were supposed to do; any addition to a given formation was sure to be quickly noticed.

The same could not be said for the 14th. They were not unprofessional, but they certainly did not have the same impeccable training and organization. She could easily hide in their ranks, so long as nopony saw her wings, and her black, stitched up cloak remained draped over her distinctive armor.

Celestia would be joining this battle, no matter how she did it, or who she had to do it with.


**********


The sun peaked over the east, and the first trumpet sounded. Instantly, the ranks became alive with nervous motion and chatter.

“Yeh ready?”

“Yes.”

“Gonna give ‘em some words of encouragement?”

Lucky Break shook his head. “They know why they’re here. Have the lieutenants rally their companies, make ready for the charge.”

Crumble looked skeptical, but merely nodded. “Yes, sir.” He trotted off, shouting above the noise, bringing the troops to attention and relaying the last of the orders to their respective superior officers.

Lucky waited for him, anxiously peering down upon the town. It was not long before they appeared.

Sinisteeds, black as pitch and grotesque as he remembered, began pouring out of the town. From crevices of rubble and decaying structures they emerged, massing together and pushing towards the front of the town like a great, dark wave. There were at least a few thousand. The occasional orange blot broke up the mass; manticores, he knew.

The enemy took up positions near the front of the town, with manticores readying to counter-charge. Behind them were lines of sinisteeds, forming a stationary pike wall. Most, however, elected to stay in the town, and take cover inside the ruined buildings. They knew it was a battle they could not win, and that meeting the ponies head-on was a sure death. They only wished to cause as much damage as possible. The only other option was to retreat – but then, Discord did not allow his hordes to retreat.

Eventually, Crumble returned. “The lieutenants are awaiting yer command.”

Lucky nodded, slowly and to himself. “Good.” He looked at Crumble. “Take your place, prepare to charge.”

“You stayin’ at the front?”

“As is tradition.”

Crumble was silent for a moment. Eventually, he nodded, and clasped Lucky on the shoulder. “Victory in battle.”

“And Harmony after. Good luck, Lieutenant.”

“And to you. But we won’t need it, eh?”

“That’s right.”

Crumble gave him one last rueful look before lowering his hoof back to the ground. He looked back, made a signal with his hoof, and then took to the sky, flying to his place in formation. A second trumpet blasted, loud and clear. The soldiers of the 21st settled into ranks, and awaited command.

Lucky took a deep sigh. He still had that feeling, like something was wrong. He did a quick mental check, to see if all his priorities were right.

Win this war.

Survive.

Protect Celestia, and be… and nothing else.

Protect Crumble.

Win this battle.

Protect my lieutenants.

Protect my soldiers, minimize casualties.

Protect the other division.

Everything was in order. His muscles were loose and ready – his mind was as sharp as his weapons. So why was he so uneasy?

He growled to himself. Now was not the time for some deep, personal examination. There were things that needed doing. An army awaited his command. He turned towards them, taking in the sight of the gleaming golden armor of the front line. All of them were earth ponies, fully armored and geared. Rows of side-mounted lances pointed towards the heavens, swords hung at sides, and some had switchblades built into the armor of their forearms.

None were more armored than the commander himself. Curiously enough, Lucky Break had a slightly lighter version of the full armor than most of his soldiers, but his total loadout was far heavier. His form practically bristled with weapons. In his own words, it was to give him “options.” A lance was carried at his right side, a precious shortsword hung at his left, two switchblades were equipped to his front hooves, and a claymore was strapped across his back. A belt of knives hung snugly near his chest, next to which was the newest addition to his collection, Cotton’s hookshot, primed and ready to be used.

He shifted about in his gear. It was now or never. He exhaled, and then inhaled deeply through his nostrils, gathering power and volume in his lungs.

“21st! Forward march!” he called to his army. They responded, and on practiced cue, followed their commander’s measured hoofsteps. The great golden wave began to move forward at a moderate, purposeful pace.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. Their hoofsteps beat the grassy ground in perfect four-four time.

The distance was half-closed.

“Make ready!”

Without breaking pace, a cacophony of metallic bumps, scrapes, and bangs sounded as the earth ponies slid the armored masks of their helmets down. In the rear of the formation, the pegasi spread out, giving each other room for takeoff.

A quarter of the distance remained.

“Pegasi! Ascend and decelerate!”

All at once, the pegasi took to the air and slowed their momentum, falling slightly behind the rest of the group. Crumble was with them, most of his red fur covered by gold armor.

An eighth of the distance remained.

“Lances down! Shields up!”

The row of earth pony lances went down, gleaming as they pointed forward towards their targets. Simultaneously, the unicorns’ horns glowed a multitude of colors. Executing a maneuver that had taken years to perfect, a great, jointly created translucent wall of energy appeared in front of the battalion, extending across their entire front and curving up and over their front half. Its surface was like slightly frosted glass, diffusing clear light and creating a warped image of the enemy battle lines. The wall itself stretched many yards into the open air and was oddly prismatic, sporting an ever shifting array of colors that stemmed from the many unicorns contributing.

Two hundred yards remained.

“Forward trot!”

The Maiden’s Battalion broke out into a brisk trot. They could see the sinisteeds clearly now. As the battalion drew near, some of them took to the air, suspended on insect-like wings and preparing to counter-charge.

“Forward canter!”

They began moving even faster. Their steps were no longer in time as they ran forward in a moderately fast canter. Still, they stayed in formation.

The hovering sinisteeds charged. From a sky littered with black dots, a veritable wall of enemies dove towards the golden mass that was the battalion. The sinisteeds gained speed and enveloped themselves in magic; and like a field of supernatural comets, the black turned a signature neon-green as they attacked horn first with a mass “suicide dive” – so named by the ponies of Equestria for it’s infrequent tendency to break the neck of the sinisteed that missed its attack. A successful attack, however, was usually met with explosive effectiveness, making it a maneuver to be feared and avoided at all costs.

Regardless, even as the field of streaking emerald comets came shrieking towards them, the 21st did not fear. The unicorns’ magical shield flashed, blinked, and even cracked in places as it was met with missile after living missile. Even so, it held, stopping all the sinisteeds in place and sometimes even killing them for virtue of being immovable. Often, a sinisteed’s horn would snap upon impact – a gruesome, cringe-worthy fate, pitiable by even the unicorns who indirectly caused it. No sinisteed would dare go over the wall, for fear of being swarmed by the pegasi on the other side. Not a single pony of the 21st was injured.

After a first failed attempt, they regrouped and tried again, this time with a lower number. They achieved the same result. A third volley came, and then a fourth, with no change.

In between each counter-charge, while their own aerial force was regrouping, sinisteeds equipped with crossbows fired on the advancing soldiers. From buildings and streets and hovering foes, a barrage of arrows was loosed, whistling as they sailed towards the battalion. The unicorns' shield stopped them all in place, breaking tips and bending shafts, protecting the earth ponies on the other side. The few that went over the shield carried too large of arcs to actually hit, or were blocked by a few agile unicorns who had remained free and ready for them.

One hundred and fifty yards remained.

A line of manticores made its way towards the front of the grounded enemy sinisteeds. While the airborne “divers” were in retreat, they collectively roared, and began to charge, quickly closing the distance between the armies. No doubt they hoped to break the battalion’s formation before they reached the town.

“Pegasi, charge!”

The airborne pegasi, who had been lagging behind to avoid the arrows, suddenly rushed forward with a fantastic burst of speed, quickly overtaking all lost ground. They flew low to the ground, breaking off into groups and arranging themselves into spearhead formations. They passed through the shield wall and broke off to engage the charging beasts, hooves stretched forward with deployed switchblades.

Another volley of arrows was loosed, and Lucky cursed. The manticores were sure to be hit by friendly fire; the sinisteeds were only using them to draw the pegasi out. They had expected it, but wished it would not happen. The pegasi were not protected – not completely, anyways. He saw an arrow pierce one’s wing; another was grazed across the face, and fell from the sky. He could not tell if she was dead or not.

Lucky grit his teeth as he watched the pegasi and manticores clash. The numbers and skill of their flying cavalry made them more than a match for the great, lumbering beasts, and they performed their duty with perfect efficiency. There were still some casualties.

Still, he had to be patient. He had to trust his feelings. And right now, he felt like waiting.

One hundred yards remained. He counted ten seconds under his breath, and then yelled.

“Charge!”

All at once, the shield wall disappeared, and the battalion broke out into a full-speed gallop. The earth ponies charged forward with lances down, closely followed by the unicorns, who preemptively fired arcing spells over the heads of their comrades and into the enemy position, softening their target before actually meeting them.

Fire splashed, lightning crackled, balls of force exploded, and the earth ponies roared a ferocious battle cry as they neared their enemy.

Seventy-five yards, and the pegasi were finishing up with the manticores, and beginning to rejoin their brethren.

Fifty yards, the enemy pike wall was beginning to collapse under the pressure of the barrage of spells.

Twenty-five yards, most of the sinisteeds were abandoning their posts at the sight of the soldiers, clad in shining gold and possessed of righteous fury. The Maiden’s Battalion was famous to more than just its allies. They were left with a completely clear path.

Ten yards, Lucky knew before they even met the enemy that their plan, which had only been a standard procedure with a few minor tweaks, was a complete success. It would be a massacre.

Five yards, Lucky wondered if it was how Daylight would have done it.

And then, they collided.


**********


Celestia seemed to hear it before she saw it – and the things she could not hear, her mind easily imagined. The clanging of steel against steel. The snapping and breaking of bones and buildings. The twisting of pierced flesh. Cries of anguish. Shouts of triumph. All of it happened within the first two seconds of battle. It sent sickly chills through her body, starting at her hooves, shaking through her torso, and ending in an uncomfortable tingle at the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes and shook her head; and yet, she wanted no less to be a part of it.

The 14th battalion had been following behind, and now stood at a moderate distance from the town, just out of bow range. Not that the enemy could afford to pay them any attention. The 21st battalion had plowed into the sinisteed formation with startling ease, like a spearhead of sunlight piercing an abyss of black night. Celestia almost felt sorry for the horde. They had superior numbers, but that did not seem to count for much. They had massive beasts, but they seemed to be ineffective. They had the defensive position and with it, technically, the upper hoof, but that had fallen apart within moments. The sinisteeds could hover and fly, and the manticores could at least glide, but there was no escape from the lightning-fast pegasi that pursued them.

The soldiers around her murmured as they watched the Maiden’s Battalion at work. Celestia herself was transfixed, despite having already trained with them for no small amount of time. Already, they had almost completely disappeared into the town, leaving no survivors in their wake.

A long hour passed.

Celestia tapped the metal of her forearm armor against the ground. What was the 14th waiting for? When were they too going to charge? She looked for the commander of the unit and found him standing at the front, impassively watching the scene unfold.

She wondered what they would do if she just galloped towards it by herself. A soldier abandoning her post, but only to rejoin and help her comrades on the battlefield… she quite liked the idea.

Celestia donned her helmet, carefully sliding her horn through the hole she had crafted herself. It was nothing more than a modified earth pony helmet, though she could not lift the mask separately with her horn in the way.

She drew some strange looks. It must have been the gold.

It was no matter. She certainly was not unfamiliar with strange looks. And she would draw some stranger ones yet.

“Pardon me. Excuse me. I’m sorry, pardon me…”

She pushed her way forward through the ranks, eventually coming out in front of the whole 14th.

“Hey.”

She heard the voice of a captain, and paid it no mind.
“Hey! Soldier!”

Her eyes squinted through the narrow slit of her helmet. It was a straight shot.
“You! The unicorn! Get back in line!”

She quickly took inventory of herself. A longsword hung at her side beneath her black cloak. As far as weapons went, that was it. It was all she needed.

“Hey!” Celestia felt a hoof land on her shoulder, pushing down on it hard. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

She turned and saw a tan-coated earth pony captain standing next to her, looking very displeased. His hoof was still on her shoulder. She experimentally shook herself, and it did not come free. He seemed to take it as an even deeper insult, and pressed even harder. The plate armor did not cover the joint; but even though there was merely chain and padding between her skin and his hoof, she could barely feel it at all.

“What is your name?”

She blinked. “Uh…”

“’Uh’? Do they teach the fillies how to show proper respect where you come from, Uh?”

“Uhhh…”

“They do where I come from. And this is how they teach it!”

The captain raised his hoof off of her shoulder and sent a backhanded swing towards her cheek. Celestia reacted instantly and instinctively. She raised her own hoof and deftly blocked the blow, metal clanging as their bracers met. Before he could recover, she followed up with a low sweep with her other hoof and a forceful push with her shoulder. The earth pony was thrown off balance and shoved back. He stumbled, tripped, and hit the ground with a forceful thud.

The soldiers nearby stepped back in shock. The captain simply lay there, dazed, unable to make sense of what had just happened. After a moment, he came to his senses, and rose to his hooves, absolutely red in the face.

“Just who do you think you-”

He stopped, and realized the unicorn that tripped him was nowhere near. He heard the murmuring of the soldiers, and followed their pointing hooves downrange to see a soldier clad in gold armor galloping at full speed towards the town, black cloak fluttering wildly behind her.

They all watched her go. What was a soldier of the Maiden’s Battalion doing here, in their ranks? And why did she beat up a captain?

“What are you looking at?” the captain called, realizing some of their curious eyes had fallen upon him.


**********


Dodge left. Block right. Elbow. Slice at throat. Next.

Parry. Riposte. Thrust. Swing out. Swing down. Next.

Throw knife. Next.

Swing left. Block – let go of the sword. Rush, tackle, pin. Deploy switchblade. Thrust.

Lucky’s mind was a machine. He felt very distant from it all, which was exactly how it was supposed to be. Emotion had its place on the battlefield, especially anger – but not for him. Remain detached, retain control. That’s what Clover had said, so long ago, and she was right. Losing control of his emotions meant losing sight of his priorities, and that made him vulnerable.

His body was a puppet, and his mind was the puppeteer. He had once considered himself unflappable, the perfect picture of poise. The past few months had proved him wrong, of course, had taught him that everypony had a tender spot. And if it was jabbed hard enough…

So, he fought mechanically. He yelled when he needed to yell, grunted with effort when he needed to grunt with effort, shouted in pain when he needed to shout in pain. His face lit up with hard expressions of exertion and malice; but underneath it all, he tried his best to remain impassive.

He’s not dead yet. Aim for the throat. Thrust again.

Lucky punched at the neck of a sinisteed struggling below him. It snarled and snapped at his face with long white fangs before its head suddenly whipped back. Its growl diminished into a wet gurgle, and it fruitlessly clutched at its neck. Lucky withdrew his hoof, wiping clean a bloodied switchblade on the defeated form of his opponent. He rose to his full height and stepped off, not bothering to watch the sinisteed finish dying.

Next.

A shout came from across the square. “Clear!”

Lucky turned to see his lieutenants Climber and Lightning Sky approach him. They lifted their helmet masks, as did he. They both seemed to be in good health, dirt and blood stains notwithstanding. Lucky moved to retrieve his dropped shortsword; no way was he leaving it. He cleaned the blade as best he could, and then turned to address them.

“Report.”

Climber answered quickly. “The square’s secure, and the church is nearin’ completion!”

“And city hall?”

“Already done, boss!”

“Any other pockets of resistance?”

Lightning Sky spoke up. “None that we can see, Commander.”

“Where’s the line?”

Climber wiped a bit of blood away from his brow. It was not his own. “Towards the northeast corner of town. Spell Trick and his boys in 1st Company are pushin’ ‘em that way. They’ve already lost, they just don’t know it.”

“Don’t they?” Lightning remarked. Climber chuckled, and they bumped hooves.

Lucky took a brief moment to contemplate. “Climber, take your forces and move them that direction. Help the 1st Company. I also want the 14th Division to sweep along the east side. We can’t have the enemy retreating in that direction. Have a pegasus send word.”

He nodded, saluted, and galloped off, shouting to his troops scattered behind him. “Alright, ladies and gentlecolts! Quit suckin’ your hooves and form up! 2nd Company, move out!” His Manehattan accent bellowed throughout the square. His troops rallied to him and he took them north, galloping and flying in a mostly unified formation.

“Lightning, send two of your platoons up with him, and grab a few squads of pegasi to scout the remainder of the town. I want you personally to fly with them. Trotterdam is to have zero trace of the enemy by the time the full force is routed. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He saluted, deployed his wings, and gave a powerful flap, thrusting off of the ground and leaving behind a cloud of dust. He called to his troops a series of more complicated orders, sending most of them to the front in the command of his second, Lance Corporal Allez, and drawing up a group of pegasi to help him scour the town for pockets of resistance.

Lucky was impressed. The new lieutenant was doing well. He would have to compliment his expertise when this was all over.

He looked around himself. All of the troops had been given their orders, and had left with their respective leaders – Lucky himself did not have a personal guard. He was alone in the center of the town square which, once, had probably been the nicest part of Trotterdam. The streets here were actually paved with stone, and the buildings became taller, wider, and of higher quality. A decorative statue stood in the center.

Of course, that statue had long since been smashed into pieces. The buildings were in a state of decay. The cobblestone streets were cracked. And of course, it all reeked of war. The corpses of sinisteeds and manticores and gods knew what else lay scattered everywhere. He saw no casualties from his own battalion, but there was the occasional form of a pony, long deceased from the initial attacks on this place.

He cast a glance near the shattered statue. A vivid memory struck his mind, still very fresh, still very bitter. It was right there that she…

Lucky looked away. Remain detached, retain control.

He had places to be, troops to command. He found the street that led north, and began galloping in that direction.

Bmmm.

A sudden tremor shook the ground. He stopped just as quickly as he started.

Bmmm.

His ears perked up and twitched, and he listened closely.

Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm!

Lucky sighed. He knew exactly what it was. He took off, sprinting in the opposite direction.

Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm!

A moment later, the tremblings stopped, and the world seemed to become silent. Lucky grunted and thrust off of the ground, diving forward as far as he could.

In the next instant, the structure nearest to him was completely destroyed. A deadly barrage of debris was flung into the street. Lucky was clipped by the very edge of the blast and sent tumbling to his side, his forward momentum carrying him through into the edge of the square.

Without missing a beat, while still scraping along the stone in his thick armor, he righted himself and flipped back to his hooves. He exhaled and looked up. A copper-green hydra stood before him, completely filling the width of the northern street. All eight eyes of all four heads were looking straight at him.

How did something like this escape the notice of their scouts?

Jump back.

He did, rolling backwards to avoid a gnashing hydra head. It slammed into the pavement where he was only a second ago, cracking the stone and leaving a small crater.

Draw claymore. Retreat further into the square.

He simultaneously did both of those things, putting one hoof on the hilt of his heavy sword and backing up into the open square of Trotterdam.

“C’mon, then!” he growled through his teeth at the monster of a lizard before him. It obliged, roaring back at him with quadruple the volume and advancing on its two enormous legs.

Slowly, back up. Draw it into open ground for greater maneuverability and less collateral damage. Wait for it. Wait for it.

He took measured steps backwards, keeping his head craned upwards at the behemoth before him. Without allowing his gaze to wander, he set the handle of his claymore gently between his teeth. The hilt of most swords were designed to be easy on the teeth, but even still, it took enormous jaw and neck strength to wield the claymore as such, a weapon primarily designed to be swung with the hooves. It was strength he possessed.

The hydra carried itself with a lumbering, almost slothenly pace, leaving a thin trail of swampy slime in its wake. Even so, its giant steps brought it ever closer to him. He kept his own strides even and measured, retreating further and further into the square, until…

Roll forward. Cut above.

He immediately stopped, dug his hooves into the ground and leapt forward. A second later, the shadow of four enormously thick necks came upon him as four gnashing maws full of yellow teeth swooped overhead. Tucked into himself, Lucky could not see it, but he did feel it – and it felt close. The wind, the snarl, and the stench of rancid, reptilian breath originated only inches from him.

As soon as he could, he burst out of his coil and sprang upwards, throwing his body into an aerial windmill while swinging with jaw clenched, slashing above himself. He felt resistance as heavy steel met scaly flesh. He pushed as hard as he could.

Lucky landed on his shoulder and quickly got back up. The right half of his helmet was spattered with a fresh coat of dark red. The heads of the hydra quickly withdrew themselves. One writhed in the air with particular intensity, sporting a newly formed gash across its neck. It was relatively small, almost not seeming worth the tremendous effort and supernatural reflex it had taken; but it was only a start, and better than nothing.

Keep moving.

The hydra did not relent. An attack came from the right. He took a short hop right. Almost immediately, another came from the left. He flipped the hilt in his mouth and shifted left again, holding the claymore in its path. The head rammed itself into the blade. Lucky was thrown back upon impact, and forced to let go of the hilt. Not even his grip was that strong. Yet, as he landed on his hooves several yards further into the square, he looked up and saw his two-hoofed sword protruding from the hydra’s second head, just above where he knew a vital spot to be.

It had been a good try. The beast paused, glaring at him with renewed bloodlust. Lucky returned the favor. He clicked his hooves against each other. The switchblades on them slid forward.

The hydra loosed another series of attacks, alternating strikes with its heads, allowing the earth pony before it very little time to recover and counter. Lucky dodged from side to side, rolling, jumping, and simply sprinting out of the way. He attacked very infrequently, but made contact every time he did.

Soon, the hyrda was covered in a great many cuts, ranging from tiny nicks to large gashes on its skin. Several throwing knives protruded from its hide; he had even managed to land a hit directly in an eye. Lucky knew it was not enough. He had seen beasts carry on for days with life-threatening injuries; the false dragon before him was only just getting started. He, on the other hoof, was beginning to tire out. Sweat soaked his matted fur underneath his armor. Blood ran under leather straps and made them chafe at his skin. He had long since been panting with an open mouth; and still, his half-helmet somewhat stifled his breathing, trapping an uncomfortable amount of heat beneath it.

It did not matter, though. He felt that soon, somehow, the beast would be dead, and he would be fi-

The hydra made another lunge. He dove to the side. It was not enough. Its gaping, snapping jaw did not hit him entirely, but the edge of its arc clipped him. He was sent sprawling back into the square, landing on his side, metal scraping against the stone. A thousand thin scratches were left in the side of his gold armor.

He did not recover immediately. Slowly, he raised himself to his hooves and ripped off his helmet; it was much too hot. His orange mane remained stuck to his neck, flattened by the helmet and sticky with sweat. Looking back at his foe, his eyes widened, and he instantly wished he had been quicker about it. Rather than lunging with its heads, the hydra was charging him head on, intent on simply crushing him beneath its huge body. Its huge feet slammed against the pavement, shaking everything from pebbles on the ground to entire buildings at the edge of the square.

Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm!

More alarming still was what he felt like doing next.

Stay put.

Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm!

Luck was never wrong. Never. He had set his goals prior to the battle; the only thing he could do was to have faith that he had set them right. Somehow, staying put was necessary to either: winning this war, surviving, protecting Celestia, and… and nothing else! Protecting Crumble, winning this battle, protecting the lieutenants, protecting the soldiers, minimizing casualties, or protecting the other division.

Bmmm, bmmm, bmmm, bmmm!

Luck was never wrong.

But sometimes, it was terrifying.

“Hey!”

The hydra did not seem to hear, but Lucky certainly did. He looked up. What he saw made his heart sing with relief.

The air itself seemed to shake as a dozen pegasi struck a trail across the sky, fast enough to appear as a tight grouping of mere golden blurs to the unexpecting eye. They broke formation moments before making contact with the hydra; who, finally, had noticed them, startled by the fact it had nearly been impacted by a dozen golden meteors.

Startle aside, it did not relent from its charge. They were only blurs after all, barely tangible to begin with. Not like the earth pony in front of it.

Then, they struck. 

The hydra roared in furious pain as, all at once, the whole of its back, from the napes its necks to the base of its tail, was punctured by many blades. That stopped its charge; it arched its four necks backwards, screaming at the sky, then turning itself in circles and biting at its back with the two heads that could reach it. The pain, which was deepening by the second, did not stop.

As the hydra turned itself, wobbling as it made the effort to stop its own charge, Lucky could not help but smile when he saw its back. The pegasi had made a mass dive towards it, switchblades out and forward. It’s whole back now almost seemed like one collectively massive wound, with blood pouring from twenty or more fresh wounds. A few pegasi were still even hanging on, digging their blades as deep as they dared. Lightning Sky was one of them.

Eventually, not knowing what else to do, the hydra flailed wildly about like a child throwing a tantrum. The shaking was enough to throw the pegasi off and make them cautions – but they were far from done.

“Stay low! Get the legs! Avoid the heads!” Lightning Sky shouted, hovering out of range. “On me, on me!”

It took only seconds for the soldiers to return to formation, and they dove again. This time the hydra was aware, but not truly ready. The Lieutenant led his pegasi in a staggered line of two-by-two, coming around on the hydra’s left side and circling around it in a whirlwind of flashing steel. 

The hydra did not know how to react. Like giant whips, its long necks swung around in the open air with reckless abandon, hoping to make contact with something, anything. It was met with limited success; it buffeted one or two of the pegasi away, but they would only rejoin the fray as quickly as they could.

Finally, Lightning shouted something – Lucky could not hear what it was – and all the pegasi flew higher, seeming to contradict his orders from before. The hydra ceased its tantrum and began snapping at the pegasi in the air, who hovered just barely out of reach. They did not take any real offensive action, seemingly serving only to distract, some even having the audacity to jeer and mock the beast. As they flew in relatively lazy circles, lightly sparring with the heads, Lucky counted them. They were all there, except...

A faint shrieking could be heard in the distance behind him, high-pitched and airy, as if the wind itself was in pain. Lucky looked just in time to see Lightning Sky streaking their direction, switchblades out, paritally enveloped in a cone of what Lucky could only describe as pure speed. He was forced to shut his eyes as the Lieutenant sped over him, the trail of wind nearly knocking him over; and in the brief time his eyes were shut, Lucky heard many things. An enormous impact, the rending of flesh, and a furious roar.

Lucky opened his eyes and looked towards the hydra. Lightning was already past it, spinning madly out of his dive and tumbling hard across the concrete square. His maneuver was not met without success, however; the hydra’s right leg had two brand new gashes running horizontal and parallel to each other, deep as could possibly be. Lucky was surprised the leg itself did not simply fall off.

The hydra seemed to make an expression of utter shock on all four of its heads. It tried to lick at the wound, wobbled unsteadily, and then fell, crashing to the ground with a huge cacophony of shattering stone. The dust cloud it left was immense. 

Lucky was impressed.

“Sir!” Lieutenant Sky landed next to him, withdrawing his own switchblades, which by now were stained a deep crimson. He lifted his helmet mask. “Are you hurt, commander?”

His other fighters landed nearby as well, congratulating each other on a job well done. They especially regarded their lieutenant with admiration. Distracted as he was, Lightning could not help but hear their enthusiasm and smile.

“No, I’m fine,” Lucky said quickly. He pointed towards the fallen hydra. “How did this thing escape our sight? Your sight, lieutenant?”

Lightning shook his head, looking more confused than apologetic. “I don’t know. One minute, all was clear, and the next we hear this-”

He was cut off by a low rumble. It was quiet, but terribly unwelcome.

The pegasi’s chatter immediately ceased, and they all turned towards it. Lightning Sky’s smile faded. “You have got to be kidding me.”

A roar, muffled but enraged, sounded from behind them. Lightning turned, and Lucky looked over his shoulder. The hydra was struggling back to its feet.

“Damn.”

Lightning gave a breathy, tired laugh that could have been mistaken for a sigh. “It was a good try though, wasn’t it Commander?”

“Not good enough, apparently.”

The Lieutenant shrugged, jumped off the ground, and deployed his weapons. “Well, you know what they say about trying again.”

Lightning slammed his mask back down and called to his group of pegasi, who quickly followed suit. Lucky had already closed half the distance, shortsword in mouth.

Strike forward.

It was a much fairer fight this time around; the hydra was forced to multitask, with three heads focused on the dozen pegasi flying above, and one on Lucky below. Still, it was not falling. Usually, this was the kind conflict was reserved for cannon artillery or precision weather lightning strikes. If regular troops were involved, they preferably fought with long range spells, or even barrages of arrows. A group of pegasi and a single earth pony, all close range fighters, should not have been doing it themselves.

“How do you stop this thing?” Lightning Sky yelled, recovering from a failed swooping attack.

“Hit it till it falls over!” Lucky shouted back.

“That didn’t work last time!”

“Keep trying!”

The pegasi were beginning to break off, becoming exhausted from the prolonged assault. Some of their number had been knocked from the sky, and one had even been mauled by a set of the beast’s jaws until one of his comrades had pried him free. The hydra was bleeding from wounds nearly all over its body, but not once did it show signs of exhaustion.

“We’re not making any progress, sir!” the lieutenant remarked as he and Lucky happened to be near each other.

They were making progress. Just not enough. “Did you send for reinforcements?”

“Before I even got here! The unicorns should be on their way!”

“Then where in the-!”

They split apart as an enormous tail came crashing towards them, completely crushing the building that stood behind them. Lightning took off. Instead of dashing away, Lucky picked a spot, and waited there with his hooves over his unprotected head.

There was a great crash all around him. Bricks and mortar fell in great heaps left and right, cracking against the pavement and each other. The debris tumbled violently for a few seconds, though it seemed like much longer. Eventually, the crash came to a point of stability, falling into relative silence, save for the tumbling of a few solitary bricks. Lucky opened his eyes. He coughed and waved at the dusty air about him. Looking down at himself, he thanked the gods; the rubble from the building had fallen nearly everywhere except where he was standing. Save for a few pieces of debris, which were quickly brushed off or nudged away, he was completely uncovered.

He climbed out of the mess and onto the mountain that had been spontaneously created around him. The hydra had moved a short ways away, distracted by the few pegasi that had any fight left in them.

Lucky was ready to charge off and aid them when he heard something. His ear twitched. He looked southward. He squinted, rubbed his eyes, and squinted again. Through the dust he saw a figure, somepony galloping their direction. A glint of gold reflected through the brown, musky, dust-filled air. When the figure had come to about twenty yards away, he saw it clearer; a unicorn from the Maiden’s Battalion, armored up and wearing a tattered black cloak instead of the normal yellow.

The unicorn galloped past him, probably without seeing he was there. He stopped at the beginning of the square, eyeing the rampaging colossus; and though he was armored, and his face hidden, Lucky had enough experience reading soldier’s emotions to see the shock and fear underneath the metal.

Soon enough, though, he eschewed his fear, and prepared for battle. Not surprising, thought Lucky – such were the Maiden’s soldiers. What did surprise him was the fact that instead of firing any spells, the unicorn drew a sword, dragged a hoof along the ground, and then charged, heading straight towards the hydra.

The unicorn’s armor was one class too heavy. Offhand, Lucky could only think of one or two unicorns in the 21st that preferred it that way – though, Lightsong liked her helmet to be open, and Rivet was always wearing that red scarf of his. And what was this unicorn doing alone? And why was he coming from the south? And that low, crouching stance was peculiar...

Nearby, Lucky heard Lightning Sky groan.

“Lieutenant,” Lucky said without moving his gaze, “you… ordered more than one unicorn back here, right?”

He was met with no response.

“Lieutenant?”

Down the slope of debris and to the left, the rubble shifted just a bit. The voice that called to him was weak. “Commander…”

Lucky’s heart skipped a beat. “Lightning!”

He slid down off the wreckage and located the source of the voice. It was not difficult; Lightning Sky lie on his back near the very edge of the rubble, some of his left side covered by a shallow pile of stones. He looked absolutely battered, with scrapes and scratches everywhere on the plate of his armor. His chainmail was lazily splayed out underneath him. The top part of his helmet had been dented in, and seemed to be the source of a thin trail of blood, steadily dripping off of his chin. Worse yet, his left wing was pinned underneath a massive conglomeration of solidified concrete.

“I’m alright, Commander…”

Lucky drew close, hovering over the pegasus.

“’Course you are,” he murmured. He tugged at smaller bits of debris while still gauging the situation. “Of course you’re alright. You think you can just go and die on your first mission in command?” He wiped at a splotch of blood slowly pooling around Lightning’s chest. It mixed with the rubble as Lucky tried to rub it clear. “Think again, you lazy bastard.”

Lightning forced a painful smile. “S-sorry, sir…”

“Shut up.”

Lucky began to work on the large brick-and-mortar boulder that was pinning Lightning’s wing. Though it was twice his size and many times his weight, Lucky knew he had the strength to move it. His shoulder and the side of his neck to the rough stone, he began to push, and soon, he felt it begin to give way. Only a few more seconds, and…

Move away. Set stance.

Lucky immediately sprang away from the body of his lieutenant and whirled around. The fight had gravitated back their direction, and with it, the hydra’s partial attention on him. Without questioning it, he reared himself to his hind legs, and set his forearms in a square defensive position in front of him.

He received his answer a moment later. The hydra lashed out with one of its heads, striking like a snake. This time, it caught him. Snatched up in the jaw of the beast, Lucky felt himself be lifted off the ground and high, high into the air; higher than he knew was safe. Three rows of dagger-like teeth grinded against his armor; only by virtue of its protection, as well as his braced stance, was he able to avoid being turned to mincemeat. He kept his exposed head low and his limbs spread wide, doing the best he could to keep the hydra from clamping its jaws shut.

Its other heads were occupied elsewhere, but this one focused all of its efforts on killing him. It growled deep in its throat, and pressed harder and harder. Lucky could smell the putrid air coming up from its lungs, mixing with the stench of the foul saliva in its mouth; it made him gag. Its tongue was pinned beneath his rear hooves, but below the harsh pressure of his metal horseshoes, he could feel it squirming and writhing in place.

Eyes closed thus far, he risked taking a single peek and experienced a moment of vertigo. He was held at the monster’s full height. A fall from here would injure him if he landed perfectly correct – it would kill him if his landing was anything but.

Deploy switchblade. Thrust.

Risking a moment of instability, Lucky withdrew one hoof from the roof of the hydra’s mouth and deployed his switchblade. Then, he put it back.

The hydra roared. Still trapped in its mouth, Lucky was treated to the full intensity of the sound. The vibrations shook his bones, and the immense volume made his ears scream in protest until he could hear literally nothing else. Immediately, he felt intense gravitational pressure coming in from all directions. The hydra was wildly flailing its head about. Trying to eat him, it decided, was not a good idea. He happily agreed.

Let go… now.

Lucky tucked himself into a ball and released his hold on the hydra’s mouth. Much to his relief and simultaneous panic, he was flung away from the putrid cavity. He heard the noise of shattering glass and splintering wood, and he sailed through the air for a full three seconds before-

Thud!

He came to a violent stop.

His head was spinning, and his entire dizzy conscious felt utterly removed from his physical body… it felt like a concussion. He knew he should have kept the helmet on. Without waiting for the sensation to subside, he straightened his legs and raised himself to his hooves. Except he was lying on his back. Growling in frustration, he rolled to his side, and tried again.

He got up, tripped, and got up again, steadying himself on a nearby wall. Grey, twinkling stars invaded his eyes and completely overtook his vision for a few moments. He craned his neck, closed his eyes, and clutched at his aching skull while waiting for his vision to clear. Eventually, it did, and although he was still in a degree of pain, he felt aware enough to move and act.

Lucky looked around. He was… inside? Sure enough, surrounding him were four wooden walls and a window, recently shattered. There was furniture around, as well. A dresser, a mirror, a small bookcase… and beneath his hooves, a mattress, messily strewn with pillows and blankets.

He jumped off the bed, and trotted over to the window. The fight with the hydra was still going on; it took only a moment to see the remaining pegasi breaking off, no longer trying to kill it, only distract it until reinforcements arrived. Though, the anonymous unicorn seemed to be on the attack, and doing alright besides.

He retracted his thought when he saw the soldier slammed into by the hydra’s tail and thrown a far distance across the square. Even still, he got back up. Impressive.

Despite it all, it was another moment before he realized: he was three stories up.

So, he had been nearly swallowed by a hydra, flung fifty yards through the air – or so was his estimate – crashed through a window, broke the backboard of a bedframe, and landed safely on a mattress.

After considering it all, he gave a brief prayer of thanks for his fortune, and readied himself to rejoin his comrades.

Take care of yourself, first.

His neck itched. Idly, he reached back to scratch it, and then hissed in pain as he tried. Something was there, he felt it. He trotted over to the nearby mirror, and viewed himself. A large shard of glass protruded from the top of his neck, jutting out through the matted orange – now slightly red – of his mane. He sighed and, still watching himself in the mirror, gingerly nudged the shard with a hoof.

He shuddered. “Mm-hmm. That hurts.”

Daring not to think about it for too long, he set his teeth and ripped it out. A small arc of blood trailed through the air. It made a painful but clean exit.

Lucky brought the shard to eye-level for a moment, viewing the now rosy glass with morbid curiosity. As odd as it was, he used to keep souvenirs of things like this. Had he continued the habit, he would have ended up with a trunkful of wood, metal, glass, and even claws and teeth.

Lucky tossed it away – it clattered to the floor next to many more just like it. He turned towards the window.

Use the hookshot.

A sudden hiss of air could be heard from the third floor of a residential building. Seconds later, Lucky leapt out of the window headfirst. At half the distance to the ground, he made a motion with his right hoof, nudging the curious device equipped around it. A metal chain became suddenly taut, stretching from his hoof all the way to the wooden wall of the room above.

His descent was stopped, his body flipped, and he was sent swinging towards the house, landing with his back legs forward to absorb the blow. Another few jumps, and he had rappelled down the entirety of the wall. Giving one final strong yank on the chain, the spearhead on the third floor came free and retracted itself into the device.

Lucky looked at the device, raised his eyebrows, and nodded approvingly.

A great boom sounded far behind him. He looked to see the hydra with all four heads extended, all having attacked at the same time. On the receiving end, having galloped out of the way for dear life, was the unicorn.

Save her!

Lucky blinked and furrowed his brows. What a funny feeling. He galloped towards the commotion.

“Oi!”

A knife sailed through the air, catching the still recovering hydra in the lip of one of its mouths. It raised its heads to full height and turned towards him.

“Have another go, if you think you’re fast enou- Crap!”

Lucky got out of the way as the hydra made a sluggish charge towards him, running into and destroying the building he had just been in. The beast was finally on its last legs, he could tell. It was no less dangerous for it.

He wheeled around. The hydra was buried beneath the rubble it had just created, stirring beneath wood and stone. It groaned and tried shifting its body around to face the square. It managed a small rotation, but its movement only served to bury it further.

Now’s your chance. Enlist her aid.

Lucky looked back. “Soldier! Assist!”

The unicorn was already on his way.

Lucky started out before the unicorn overtook him. He closed the distance to the rubble, and began to climb it. Only one of the four heads was free. It craned its neck towards him, made a lunge, and missed. It withdrew and made another strike, aiming behind him at the unicorn who was, by now, trailing close behind. He was not able to see if the soldier had survived, but the distraction was all he needed. The hydra’s withdrawal was slow enough for him to leap off of a piece of rock, and land onto the back of its scaly neck.

He deployed his switchblades in mid-jump and thrust them down upon landing, securing himself onto the hydra’s flesh. It whipped back and writhed powerfully, and would have thrown him off had it continued to do so, but something made it lunge forward again. He used the opportunity to withdraw his blades, climb a short ways to its head, and stab down with all his might.

A low, airy groan sounded from the hydra’s throats, and a fountain of dark blood issued forth from the creature’s head. Nearby, another head had managed to free itself from the debris, and made a frantic lunge towards him. It missed, and Lucky was able to strike with another killing blow. In the throes of death, it writhed in pain and knocked him off of the mountain of rubble and back down to the square below. One of his switchblades had snapped off, still embedded in the monster’s head.

It was like tumbling down a great, uneven stone staircase. His ears rang and body shook every time he took another hit against the debris. His unprotected head took a particularly nasty blow, and he felt the minor concussion of before come back in far greater force.

Eventually, when he anticipated hitting the ground, his body was jolted with an unexpected blow; though oddly enough, he seemed to be in better condition for it.

Did somepony catch him?

“Hey!”

Lucky’s ear twitched. That voice…

“Are you okay?”

He strained to open his eyes. A pony was indeed hovering over him; in fact, he was propped against the ground and held in that pony’s arms. He could not quite make out who it was, though. Something hot and wet was trickling over his eyes, making them bleary and forcing him to constantly blink.

“Just stay here, Commander.”

That voice…

At some point, the pony released him. He was not sure how long it had been, but what he felt like doing next, he felt very strongly.

Save her!

Lucky stood up. His whole world was blurry, unfocused, half-lidded, and tinted in red. His legs were wobbling in place, a sensation that was not helped by the infrequent earthquakes that took to the ground beneath him.

He lifted his head. The hydra had unburied itself. Two of its four heads were lying limp on the ground. A third had been completely cut off. The fourth, however, still fought with the tenacity of a dying animal. There were no pegasi left to engage it – and its singular target fought bravely in the very center of the square.

His eyes widened.

Save her!!

Half-fainting, nearly bled out, and with little plan of action, Lucky charged. He had to. There was no other choice.

The dying hydra lunged.

Lucky cried out.

“No…!!”

But his voice fell into a noiseless void. He charged but was going nowhere. His body felt numb. One eye perceived reality, and the other was filled with memory – and they both saw the same thing.

She stood next to the statue with a longsword drawn. Her stance was low, all four legs bent at the knee and spread wide across the ground. She carried the tension of a coiled spring, but not to get out of the way; no, she would meet this head on. He was running towards her, but she was so far away, and she was alone. The morning sun broke over the eastern wreckage, and its light shone on nothing but her. In those moments, Lucky could not be sure if it was really the sun’s doing. Maybe she was the one shining, and the sun reflected her brilliance.

Illumination caught his eyes, and he had to squint. She was alone. He should be there, but she was alone. She would be alright, the goddess told him.

In one eye, he saw himself simply standing there, all calm and collected. In the other, he knew better.

The illumination became unbearable, but half of his body moved forward anyways. His mouth was still open, he felt the cry still moving through them, and reality came rushing back.

Save her. Save her. He would save her!

“…No!!”

He threw his shoulder forward, and connected with the hydra’s head a moment before it met its target. He felt teeth shatter and blood vessels break against the metal of his armor, and the hydra’s head was shoved so far sideways as to force it to readjust and steady its entire body.

“Commander!”

The hookshot found its way to Lucky’s hoof once more, and before the hydra could even shake its head to recover, he fired a precisely aimed shot. The spearhead sailed towards open air until the hydra unknowingly moved its head into its path. The point connected with the underside of the hydra’s chin, tore through a weak spot in the scales, and stuck there.

“Lucky Break!”

He almost could not respond to the voice; but his gift told him he should. “The claymore!”

Lucky looked up to make sure; sure enough, his claymore still protruded from the crown of the remaining head.

The soldier wildly shook her head. “How-?!”

Calling upon the strength of his tribe, Lucky grasped the hookshot chain in both hooves, shouted, and gave a mighty tug. The stunned, weakened hydra was unprepared for the sudden, massive force, and its head was brought low to the ground.

Lucky could only assume she understood him, because in the next instant, the soldier was charging towards the lowered head. Her cloak fluttered unobtrusively behind her. Two feathery patches of bloodied white could be seen on either side of her. She deployed her wings, pushed them downwards, and jumped, sailing as far and high as was possible in such heavy armor.

Then, the soldier extended her hooves forward, grasped the embedded claymore, and shifted it forwards and deeper until it was buried nearly to the hilt.

The hydra’s last pair of open eyes widened. It screeched, higher pitched and louder than Lucky would have thought possible. And then, it started to sway.

Without having actually landed on the head, the soldier hung off to the side and swung forward and back with her hooves still on the handle. Soon, she let go and tumbled to the ground below. She scrambled to her hooves and sprinted away from the beast.

With one last heave of effort, the hookshot was yanked free. Messy with bits of bone and flesh, chain would not coil in all the way. It sputtered and whirred as it tried. Lucky dropped the device, and watched the hydra warily.

Like standing upon a great ship, the hydra swayed forward and back, left and right, rocked by the pushing of unseen waves. Blood dripped from its last head, which it had raised up to full height again. It especially wobbled like a weight on an unstable spring.

Lucky stood still. He knew it would not fall on him. And the soldier had been saved. Speaking of which…

“Help!”

He looked left. The soldier was alarmingly close to the teetering hydra, and digging at a spot of rubble on the ground.

“Commander! Help me!

“What the hell are you doing? Get out of there!” he yelled, motioning towards himself.

“The lieutenant!”

The soldier shifted, and he saw what she was pawing at: Lieutenant Lightning Sky, whose wing was still pinned beneath a piece of debris. The hydra was beginning to lean their direction. It became apparent it would fall that way; whoever was in its path at the time would be crushed.

“Help me!”

Lucky simply stood there. He knew there was nothing he could do. Or rather, he could do something – but it would mean his own life. He felt like the soldier would be fine. Maybe she would get out of the way. But to save Lightning Sky meant sacrificing himself.

It was one or the other. There was no in between, his gift told him so.

“Lucky!” the soldier cried, eyes wide with terror. “Please!”

Lucky felt like he should take a few steps back.

And so he did.

He flinched, briefly closing his eyes, his face contorted into a mask of deep pain. Never turns out well for your friends, does it?

One last cry reached his ears as he saw the hydra fall towards them.

“Lucky!”

The ground was taken with a brief but powerful trembling as the hydra fell from its full height all the way to the earth. Dust was thrown up into the air, creating a thick brown screen that filled the air immediately surrounding it.

A piece of debris flipped his direction, and would have stubbed his hoof had he still be standing a few paces forward.

He coughed and waved the dust away from his face, but other than that, he remained completely still, waiting for the cloud to settle. Thirty seconds went by, and he heard a stampede from the north. The unicorn reinforcements had finally showed up. Lucky rolled his eyes, but continued waiting. They seemed content to do the same, eyeing the scene with awe.

Eventually, the dust fell into the breeze, and the full wreckage was revealed. They hydra was undoubtedly dead. Blood oozed from wounds all over, and bile dripped from its last remaining mouth. A claymore, his claymore, still protruded from the hydra’s fourth head. The place where Lieutenant Sky had been lying was completely crushed by the neck. An extra splatter of blood coated the area.

Lucky took a deep breath, and braced himself. He felt so unexpectedly angry. At the hydra, at himself, at the soldier... for what? Asking him to do something he knew he could not? The hydra was not his fault. Lightning Sky was not his fault.

Without a word to his reinforcements, he walked towards the hydra head. 

Approaching it, he heard a scuffle on the other side. He wondered if the soldier had broken any bones.

Lucky reached the hydra, and, using a rock as makeshift scaffolding, jumped up onto the nape of the monster’s neck. He peered onto the other side, and sighed.

The soldier was there, lying in the ruins with both wings outstretched. The dust had yet to settle around her. Lucky scowled, and peered closer. Wings, and a horn. Oddly, he did not feel very surprised.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him there, and spoke.

“Oh…” she panted. “So… now you want to help?”

“Hardly,” Lucky said. “I came to get my claymore.”

He balanced along the hydra’s neck and walked to the crown of its head, where his sword was still stuck deep into its skull. It was still buried to the hilt, which itself was covered in blood. He grimaced, cleaned off the handle as best he could, and set his teeth around it to rip it out. It took a good three tugs before it came free.

He tossed his sword onto the rubble below – he would properly clean it later – and jumped off the hydra’s neck, walking towards the soldier.

Suddenly, he stopped.

The soldier had gotten up. Beneath her, previously covered and protected by her wings, was the unconscious form of Lightning Sky.

By now, a few curious unicorns and pegasi had rounded the beast to gauge the situation for themselves. Lucky wasted little time in calling out for a physician and tending to some of the more minor wounds himself. Soon, the lieutenant was covered in ponies more qualified to help than him, and both he and the soldier backed off. A pair of pegasi brought a stretcher to carry him away.

As they left, Lucky saw Lightning’s eyes flutter open. They looked at him, then they looked at the soldier beside him. His lips barely parted, but his slurred whisper was not complicated.

“Thank you…”


**********


Lucky obtained a status report from Lieutenant Spell Trick, who returned with the reinforcements, and found that the battle had gone in their favor. They had just pushed the enemy out when reinforcements were called for.

“It would seem you did not need them, Commander,” Spell Trick observed with a smile.

Lucky was not so amused. “Thank you, Trick. Dismissed.” He walked away before the lieutenant did, looking around the scene. He did not have to look far to find the pony he was looking for.

“Private! Here, now!”

The soldier, helmet still on and armor absolutely filthy, perked up and trotted towards him, standing front and center.

Lucky just stared at her for a long time. Through the narrow slit of her full helmet, he could see the anonymous pony staring back with scowling reddish-pink eyes. Except, she was not anonymous at all; he was not sure when he had figured it out, but her identity was obvious.

He drew closer, and slowly raised a hoof to the edge of her helmet. Grabbing it, he ripped it off her head and tossed it to the side, where it clattered noisily on the pavement. She blinked, and then shook her head and neck, getting her mane to flow a little bit freer. Her eyes moved to catch his gaze with their own, and he nearly flinched at the sight of its intensity. His stomach tied into a knot, and a strange feeling of deja vu took hold of him. 

“I hate you.”

Without taking his eyes of her, Lucky shook his head and growled. The foolish mare had no idea. Absolutely no idea. And here she was, accusing him. Anger boiled up inside of him, and his scowl deepened, a vicious line carving its way between his brows. How dare she speak to him like that! What did she know? Nothing! Not until he had summoned a barrage of biting reprimands to stand ready on his tongue and drawn a deep breath to propel them forward did he realize – she had not actually spoken at all.

It all came out in a breathy huff.

“Idiot.”

Celestia’s eyes flicked away, but only for a bit. She stared for another moment, struggling to remain composed. Her eyes narrowed further as a number of responses came to her mind. Her face was a playground of conflicting directives, hovering somewhere in between showing him the scorn he deserved and the respect that military succession demanded. But after that, what respect could he possibly be due? She bared her teeth, and opened her mouth to speak-

“Lucky-yyyyyyyy!”

She produced only a puff of air. They both turned to see somepony galloping at full speed up the main southern road.

“Lucky-yyyyyyy! Luck-”

Cotton stopped, lowering her head and taking a moment to breath. Her curly hair bobbed up and down with her panting.

“Lucky… Luck… Lu… phew!” She raised her head and wiped the sweat off her brow. She let one last whoosh of air out, gasped another one in, and resumed running.

“Lucky-yyyyyyy!” She finally reached the main square, having drawn the eyes of everypony in it. “Lucky!” she cried. “Celly ran off without telling me and left a note and at first I thought she was in bed but she wasn’t in bed and then I thought she was on the ceiling hiding but she wasn’t on the ceiling hiding and thenIthoughtshewasalreadyawakewhichIsupposeiscorrectbutshewasn’tatcamp!”

She drew a deep, gasping breath. “Becausesheranofftogoandfightandweneedtofindher, right, now!”

Celestia stepped forward from behind Lucky and a few other onlookers. “Uh, Cotton?”

Cotton blinked, frowned, and looked towards her. “Oh.”

The air was silent as Cotton pondered. She leaned in, tilted her head, wrinkled her nose, and squinted. After a moment, she stood taller and shrugged.

“Well, I tried.”