//------------------------------// // Onslaught // Story: Canterlot: Her Creation and Her Architects // by vren55 //------------------------------// Onslaught A short time after the sun rose, the other ponies awoke to find Princess Celestia preparing breakfast, showing that contrary to rumor, the princess knew how to cook. Quickly, the six seated themselves and prepared themselves to eat. But before Golden Triangle and Barbican could tuck into the delightful fare, they noticed Byzas, Chartres, Vaultaire and Sa’id going wide-eyed at something behind them. They barely had a moment to react before they were caught in a death-grip hug by a certain earth pony. “Golden, Barbican, thanks,” whispered White Tower. Golden smiled wryly and Barbican breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re just glad you’re safe,” said Barbican. The three friends sat there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. That was until Golden Triangle spoke up. “White Tower, we enjoy the warmth of thy embrace greatly, but the stew is getting cold,” said Golden Triangle teasingly. Red tinged the blue fur on White Tower’s cheeks before she lightly punched Golden Triangle and sat down to eat. Celestia and the others stayed clear away from the swamp as they continued their journey up the mountain. As they hiked up the winding path along the side of Mount Canter, the ponies kept their eyes peeled for any ideal spots. They also took care to watch their step, for although one side of the path lay in the side of the mountain, the other descended in a sheer drop. At the front of the line, White Tower, Golden Triangle and Barbican were recounting to White Tower how Golden Triangle had broken her out of the trance. Both White Tower and Golden Triangle had blushed when Barbican recounted Golden Triangle’s nursery rhyme. To avoid himself from being further embarrassed, the older unicorn changed the subject. “If we remember correctly, thou seemest to have acquitted thyself well with that revolutionary young artist. What is thy opinion of him?” whispered Golden Triangle, having noticed White Tower chatting animatedly with Byzas while their chariot was landing. “Revolutionary? Rash and mad, I say. Who would ever think of building a city on a cliff? It’s the craziest idea I’d ever heard of,” chuckled Barbican. At the rear of the company, Byzas’s ears shot straight in the air, but he pretended to be glancing at a nearby overhang, though it was much too small to build anything but a bird’s nest on. “Barbican, be nice. Spire is nervous, but trustworthy, not to mention he is quite talented. I admire his vision in fact,” commented White Tower cheerfully. The unicorn sighed and adjusted his monocle slightly. “We agree, but we also believe he needs more experience,” said Golden Triangle, wiping the dust from the lens. “He needs more common sense, not experience, though he has none of the latter. His idea of building the capitol on a cliff is a dangerous and reckless,” said Barbican, his voice dripping with contempt. White Tower’s brow furrowed at the uncharacteristic behaviour of her friend. Barbican had complained earlier, but his grumblings had been focused mainly on the journey, not Spire’s reputation and skills. At the end of the line, Byzas’s unique purple eyes were examining every bush, every ledge and every rock with fraught anticipation. The stallion had been infuriated by Barbican’s denouncing of his vision and was determined to prove the pegasus wrong. And although Byzas didn’t know what he was looking for, he knew that he would get some feeling when he saw it. In fact, Byzas was so concentrated on finding a suitable location for the capital that he completely forgot to stare at Chartres. Yet, after several long hours of trotting and hiking, Byzas’s concentration waned and he turned around to glance at the rest of his company. It was good that he did, for the first thing Bzyas noticed was that Chartres was extremely fatigued. The unicorn’s breath was irregular and gasping, her blue mane matted with sweat and her steps staggering. “Chartres! Are-you-alright?” stammered Byzas as he leapt to Chartres’s side. Blinking her teal eyes blearily, Chartres seemed to look through Byzas. “I’m fine Spire,” said Chartres. Suddenly, the unicorn coughed violently and staggered, ending up leaning against Byzas and her head rested on his shoulder. For a moment, Byzas’s heart fluttered and he was floating in the clouds like a pegasus. However, the touch of Chartres’s saddlebags against his side diverted his attention and he frowned. Glancing to the mare’s sides, Byzas gasped as he noticed Chartres coarse, sackcloth saddlebags. Although cheap, the long days of hiking had caused the saddlebags to chafe against the Chartres’s side and now her sides were worn and scraped, the fur rubbed raw. “Chartres-why-didn’t-you-tell-us!” gasped Byzas. “I’m fine, I can still walk,” stammered Chartres. Byzas gawked uncomprehendingly at Chartres. He couldn’t understand why she was denying her own pain. “Enough! Princess! We-need-to-stop!” roared Byzas. Celestia was beside them in an instant and her magenta eyes widened in fright as she registered Chartres’s condition. “We have to get off the mountain,” said Celestia. “Finally!” said Barbican as he approached the cluster of ponies. He was immediately met by a pair of furious purple eyes. “What did you mean by that pegasus?” demanded Byzas, every word enunciated with a dangerous precision and weight. Barbican was taken aback by Spire’s changed tone, but a nudge and a look from White Tower directed his attention to Chartres and the pegasus finally realized the situation at hoof. Sheepishly, Barbican coughed into his hoof, “Nothing at all. Um... how can we get off the mountain?” Spire glared at Barbican for a moment, but then turned back to Chartres. “Your Highness, can you teleport- OW!” exclaimed Spire as a pebble landed on his head. He looked upward to see where the pebble had come and froze. “Art thou uninjured Spire?” asked Celestia, puzzled at Spire’s sudden paralysis. It was then they all felt the ground quake and quiver, as the mountain began to groan. Their ears were filled with the thudding of tumbling rock and the clatter of gravel against stone. Shattering boulders sent horrendous cracking noises into the morning sky. As the entire mountainside shook, Spire lifted a single, trembling, red hoof to the mountain top. “Your Highness, avalanche,” whispered the pony. And with that all Tartarus broke loose. The sight of tumbling boulders and rock only transfixed Celestia’s gaze for a moment before her horn glowed and she cast the strongest shield she could muster. A great golden dome of magic encircled the area around the architects. However, despite all the alicorn’s power, she could do nothing to ease the violent shaking of Mount Canter. “Hold on!” ordered Celestia, squeezing her eyes and gritting her teeth, as she braced herself against the ground and funnelled all her power into the shield. The other ponies didn’t need to be told twice. Vaultaire clutched Celestia’s hoof tightly. Golden Triangle grabbed a rocky spur, while White Tower braced her hooves against the ground. Sa’id... somehow the desert pony didn’t bother grabbing anything, but allowed himself to be bounced up and down. Each landing was perfectly controlled and each jump timed to control his distance from the edge of the path. Barbican lofted himself into the air, staying within the Princess’s shield. While Byzas was trying to secure his foothold on the rocky path, he saw the still-groggy Chartres slipping precariously near the edge. Immediately he stepped forward to grab her, but the moment his hoof touched the ground, his eyes widened. Earth pony magic was never as obvious as unicorn magic. But it made up for that in its ability to sense the environment. Byzas wasn’t a master at it, but he was in tune with the rock well enough to tell that Chartres was in grave danger. “Chartres-get-away-from-there!” shouted Byzas desperately. It was to no avail, for at that moment of bad fortune, the avalanche met Celestia’s shield. A frightening cacophony, similar to hammers smashing glass, sang through the air, as magic met rock. Spire’s warning was completely drowned out. Then, there was an ominous crunch and Chartres’s lidded eyes snapped open, as she finally realized her predicament. The unicorn moved, her tired hooves lifting into air and her rear legs tensing for a jump. It was too late. A horrified scream, cut through the symphony of cascading rock, followed by a yell of horror. Celestia’s eyes snapped open and she whipped her head around, just to see Chartres tumbling through the shield, which was only designed to keep objects out, not ponies in. Spire, nearest to the stricken unicorn, had jumped in an attempt catch her hooves. The alicorn’s heart seized in horror, as she saw Spire had misjudged his leap. “NO!” screamed Celestia. The earth pony uttered an astonished gasp, somehow heard by all, and he fell in after the unicorn. The alicorn tried to grab both of them with her magic, but the sheer concentration needed to maintain the shield made such an act impossible. Then, to Celestia’s surprise, a white shape, streaked with gold appeared in front of her. It saluted and said, in a voice strangely distorted by the falling rocks: “Your Highness, hold the shield. I’ll get them back safe and sound,” said Barbican. White Tower gave a sharp cry, as Barbican dived out of the shield.