A blood red sun set over Canterlot that day, casting the once picture perfect blue sky into a sea of fiery orange. It had taken the rest of the day to restore the train station back to functioning condition, and even longer to safely disarm all of Night Shade’s explosives and reclaim the gunpowder. Skyfall Team had lent a major hand in the cleanup effort and evacuation of citizens from the blast zone. It had been a trying day for everypony involved.
Fleethoof stood alone out on the western terrace of Canterlot Castle, staring out across the vast fields and small hills that made up Equestria as he reflected on the day’s events. Quarter Master’s scientists had taken the bodies for autopsy and identification, and construction crews had already begun their recovery effort. With The Double-Edged Sword utterly annihilated, Skyfall was enjoying a well-earned respite for their service. There was nothing left for him to do today.
The lush green plains were cast in a warm hue. A warm breeze gently licked at his face and coat, the last fleeting reminders that summer had come and gone, and the seasons were changing. He inhaled deeply, letting out the breath in a deep sigh. He felt his wing tense up, and pulled his pills from their pouch.
“I knew I’d find you out here.” Princess Cadance’s voice came out of nowhere.
He glanced back at her, giving her a small smile in acknowledgment. “It’s my favorite spot in the castle. We’ve stood here before, you and I.”
“I know, I remember,” Cadance said with a nod, the memories bringing a smile to her face. “About one year ago. Time flies, doesn’t it?”
“It has a habit of doing that.” Fleethoof popped the pill in his mouth, swallowing it down quickly. Cadance noticed.
“Medicine?”
“For my wing,” he explained. “It makes it more comfortable to deal with.”
She hesitated, apprehensive about her next inquiry. “Will it ever get better?”
“Probably not, no.”
“I’m sorry, Fleet…”
“Eh, I’ve grown used to it. I can still fly, after all.” He shrugged it off. “But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?”
Cadance flipped her mane back and shook her head, joining Fleethoof at the balustrade in looking out across the land. “Aunt Celestia is still addressing the ponies about what happened, and Aunt Luna is acting as public relations as well.”
“That’s the price of power,” said Fleethoof. “You’ve got to please the populace.”
“And what about you? Why are you out here by yourself?” she asked.
“We’ve completed our job. There’s nothing else for us to do. I’m waiting for Quarter Master to finish his preliminary autopsy and see what he finds. I’m here by myself because it helps me think. That, and everypony else is off doing their own thing.”
Cadance cocked her head slightly. “What’s on your mind?”
He shook his head and lied, “It’s nothing important.”
“Is it what Night Shade said at the train station? About your mother?”
Fleethoof blinked in surprise, staring at the princess in shock and bewilderment . “How did you know—”
“I can sense emotions tied to the heart, remember?” she reminded her companion. “I could tell that got to you. Why?”
For a while, Fleethoof just stared back at Cadance, their eyes locked intensely. To him, it felt like she was trying to read his mind through his eyes. Ordinarily, it would have put him off, but not this time. He mulled over the concept of telling her the story before deciding to throw caution to the wind. What harm could it do?
“My mother went missing when I was very young. She was never found and presumed dead,” he said with a resigned sigh.
Now Cadance was confused. “But I thought I saw your mother at your promotion ceremony last year?”
“Stepmother,” Fleethoof corrected gently. “My father remarried a few years back.”
“Oh, Fleethoof, I’m sorry…”
“It’s all right, really. I was too young to really remember her as a pony. Just a foal, really. I just remember her name, and the way she looked, the way she spoke… But I looked up to her. She was a sergeant in the Guard, in the Air Force. So heroic, brave, and proud of her career. She was the reason I was inspired to join the Guard. She would always call me ‘her clever pony’. When Night Shade said my mother would be proud of that, it just… hit home…”
Another pause from the princess. “How did she go missing?”
Fleethoof chuckled weakly and shook his head. “I don’t know. Dad never told me. I guess he thought I was too young, and when I grew up, I put it out of my mind. It was so far in the past, it didn’t matter anymore.”
The next thing he knew, Fleethoof was being pulled into a hug. All he could see was pink as the mare held him tight. It took him a moment, but soon enough he was hugging her back. It felt good—safe. It felt like he was finally home again.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered softly.
“Ahem.” The sudden voice made the two ponies pull apart rather quickly. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something? I can come back.”
Fleethoof turned his head sharply to see Quarter Master standing a short distance away, smiling awkwardly. He chuckled bashfully and waved the pony over.
“No, you’re good, Quarter. Come on over,” he replied. “Did you find anything at all?”
“Well, yes and no,” the unicorn began, looking over a clipboard levitated above his head. “My team didn’t discover anything unique about any of the bodies. They’re almost all loners, no immediate family, with few—if any—friends. I’m afraid even Night Shade’s autopsy was routine. One bullet wound to the frontal lobe that pierced straight through his brain, causing catastrophic trauma, and exited out the back of his skull. Very typical with a sniper, like our friend Sharp Shot. In fact, the slug we pulled from the station floor was a match to Sharp Shot’s rounds.”
Fleethoof chewed on his lip, leaning back against the stone balustrade. “I know you didn’t come all the way out here to tell me something anypony could’ve guessed, Quarter.”
“Perceptive as always, Captain. While I didn’t find anything unusual with Night Shade’s body, I did come across something unusual in his personal belongings.” Quarter Master levitated a pair of dented, worn dog tags out of the pocket of his lab coat. “He was carrying these in his uniform. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but then I took a closer look at them.”
Fleethoof grabbed the dog tags from midair, turning them over in his hooves until he could see the name inscribed on them. The pony froze for a long while, and his jaw slowly dropped open. His eyes widened, and then narrowed as he glared at the scientist.
“Is this a joke?” he demanded, raising his voice unintentionally.
“No,” said Quarter, the upward inflection in his voice making it sound more of a question than a statement. “I don’t understand, Captain. Are they significant?”
He looked back down at the tags in his quivering hoof. The color began to drain from his face. Cadance looked on in worry, glancing at the tags, but Fleethoof took off, launching into the air like a rocket.
“What was so special about them?” Cadance asked the unicorn.
Quarter Master adjusted the glasses on his face, his expression enigmatic. “They weren’t his.”
After a second passed and the information had sunk into Cadance’s brain, she took off after Fleethoof. For a pony with an injured wing, he could still fly fairly swiftly and accurately. The two ponies darted through the air above Canterlot, waving across rooftops before coming to land outside the Canterlot Archives.
Cadance barely had time to let her hooves touch the ground, and then Fleethoof was off running into the building. She chased after him as fast as her legs could carry her. The pony was running like his life depended on it. Something had him in a panic.
“Fleethoof! Wait up!” she called out, but it was in vain. He sprinted up a flight of stairs to the next floor, and then another.
Whatever he was looking for, he knew where to go. The two ponies rushed down the corridors, passing into the Starswirl the Bearded wing. Cadance knew this section of the archives well. It contained the most powerful of magic spells, the most archaic of books—and the most secret of documents and reports.
Fleethoof followed his memory of this place as best he could, still clutching to the tarnished dog tags for dear life. He was breathing hard, even as he slowed to a trot, briskly moving past sealed doors, until he finally came to the one. A metal gate barred access to the old wood door, and a pair of guards patrolled the hallway outside the doors.
“Hey,” Fleethoof said, catching their attention. “I need to get inside. Open the gate, please.”
“I’m sorry, but nopony is allowed in the military archive without clearance,” the guard stated.
“I’m Captain Fleethoof. Open the gate.”
“Sorry, Captain, but even your rank can’t access these files without supervision.”
Fleethoof grit his teeth together. “Supervision from who?”
“One of the princesses,” the guard said, glancing at Cadance as she ran up to the two, finally catching up. “Like her.”
“She’s with me. Now open the gate.”
The guard looked between the surly captain and the breathless princess before nodding once. She levitated a key off her belt and unlocked the gate and door. Fleethoof pushed the door open and stepped inside, Cadance following close beside him.
The old archive smelled of dust and decay. Light poured in from a pair of lattice windows along the long side of the room. Bookcases filled with files, folders, journals, and books were beginning to fall apart, the wood shelving bent and bowed from decades of supporting weight. One long table ran the length of the room.
“What’s going on, Fleethoof?” Cadance asked as the pegasus began looking at the brass nameplates on each bookshelf. “You’re acting crazy all of a sudden. What’s got you so worked up?”
“Cadance, when did the incident in the Frozen North happen?”
She was thoroughly lost now. “What?”
“The Frozen North Offensive. When did it happen?” he asked again through clenched teeth. “The cases are organized by dates. When did it happen?”
“I have no idea.”
Fleethoof groaned in frustration. “There’s hundreds of files from the last decade alone. How am I supposed to find it in this mess?!”
The door to the archive opened again. “Find what, Captain?”
Both Fleethoof and Cadance looked back as Luna entered, carrying a dossier in her magic’s aura.
“What are you two searching so fervently for?” she asked as she wedged the new folder in the bookcase dated to the present.
“When was the Frozen North Offensive?” Fleethoof asked, rifling through a small stack of journals.
“The Frozen North? I’ve been imprisoned on the moon for the past millennia. I haven’t the faintest idea of when anything occurred.”
Another frustrated groan came from the stallion. “It’ll take me all night to find this one damn—”
“Found it!” Cadance sang out cheerfully, pulling a bulky folder from the case beside his.
“I… But… What… How did… How?!” Fleethoof stammered, watching as the princess set the documents down on the table.
“It was written in bold on the side, silly pony.”
Fleethoof looked at the spine of the folder, reading the words and rolling his eyes. Cadance and Luna both stepped closer, watching over his shoulders. He stared down at the cover, yellowed with age, still holding tightly to the tags in his hoof. Taking a deep breath, he opened the dossier.
The first few pages were royal orders and decrees, detailing the mission, all signed by Princess Celestia. The next set were battle plans and strategies, all bearing initials from the officers who crafted them. One plan bore a checkmark next to it. The signature made Fleethoof’s stomach turn.
Captain Phalanx.
His breathing grew more labored as he progressed on, spreading the files messily across the table’s broad surface. More orders and requests for weapons, supplies, and transportation were all signed off by the same officers. Phalanx’s name came up several more times.
And then came the personnel files.
Each file had a picture of the pony, and a detailed description of their service and duties. The first pony he didn’t recognize. Nor did he know the second pony on the team. The third page made him stop, his hoof hovering over it. A pair of bright red eyes stared up at him from the face of a very young blue unicorn, full of hope and patriotism, and definitely no older than he was now.
Name: Night Shade
Rank: Corporal
Company: 1st Canterlot Guard
CO: Lieutenant Cuirass
Race: Unicorn
The pedigree information continued for a little bit longer, but Fleethoof skipped past it. He was more interested in the service record. As far as he could see, Night Shade had been telling the truth. He didn’t excel at anything in particular. He was like a jack-of-all-trades soldier, which was probably why he was selected for the mission. They needed somepony who could fit a variety of roles.
Fleethoof swallowed hard and sighed, turning the page over. Another pony he didn’t recognize. And another pony he didn’t recognize. And yet another pony he didn’t recognize. He prayed that he had been mistaken about all of this.
The seventh profile froze him in place like a statue.
Fleethoof’s deep sapphire eyes stared down at the warm caramel eyes staring up into his. He could feel his heartbeat slow, but pound away strong as ever against his ribcage. He couldn’t breathe right anymore. His wing began to ache again. He felt like he was about to hyperventilate.
“Fleethoof?” Cadance’s voice was heard, but tuned out in his daze. “Are you okay?”
The captain’s hooves began to shake while he supported his weight against the edge of the table. A wave of nausea hit him, making him buckle slightly. Instantly, Fleethoof felt a pair of hooves at his sides, supporting him upright, and glanced up at Cadance, seeing the worry in her eyes.
Cadance looked down at the file, at the lilac mare in the picture. The profile listed her as a pegasus, though from her photograph, her wings were folded against her body, and weren’t seen. Her mane was a rich shade of hazel, and flowed gracefully down the side of her neck.
Name: Nightingale
Rank: Sergeant
Company: 1st Cloudsdale Air Force
CO: Captain Blackhawk
Race: Pegasus
Her service record showed exemplary skill in airborne combat and tactical flying. The officers who put the team together detailed how her abilities would be a good use against the dragons’ ability to fly.
“Fleethoof, what’s wrong?” Cadance asked again, trying to get an answer from the shaken pony. “Who is this?”
It took him a while to respond, but once he got control of his breathing again, he spoke. “Cadance… you asked me how my mother went missing…”
Cadance stared at him. This was coming up all of a sudden? She didn’t understand… until her mind began to put two and two together. Luna’s eyes widened in disbelief and darkened in revelation as well.
Fleethoof slammed his hoof against the table, leaving the dog tags on top of the papers. Through the tarnished metal, a name could be made off of it.
Nightingale
1st Squadron
REAF Cloudsdale
“She died with Night Shade… She froze to death up in the Frozen North…”
Pushing off of the table, Fleethoof stormed out of the archive, slamming the door on his way out. Cadance watched him go in shock and awe. Both princesses continued to stare at the picture before them, at the smiling mare, long since forgotten by all.
All except her son and her teammate.
Night Shade shivered uncontrollably as a gust of icy cold wind ripped through the cave. He and four other ponies were all that remained. The rest had succumbed to the battle or the unforgiving weather already. The ponies huddled close for warmth, but it was far from enough. The merciless blizzard raging outside seemed hell-bent on ending every fire of life within the cave.
As much as he hated to admit it, their shelter wouldn’t hold up for long. They were running dangerously low on supplies, and if they stayed out here, they’d freeze to death for sure. But going out in the storm was equally as dangerous. They were running out of options…
No! Princess Celestia wouldn’t let them suffer like this! Surely she was on her way right now, with a whole company of troops looking for them. They’d be found soon, and they’d be given food and warm clothes, and be taken back home. They’d be heroes for what they’d been through. Oh man, if only his friends back in Canterlot could hear the story of how they’d slain the dragons.
“I-It’s s-s-so cold…” a lilac mare pressed up against Night’s side muttered, her teeth chattering in the frigid weather. He had met her before, on the train up here. Sergeant Nightingale, from Cloudsdale, if he remembered correctly.
“J-Just hold on a l-l-little longer,” he reassured her, smiling widely and rubbing her back encouragingly. “P-Princess C-Celestia will be l-looking for us. She’s f-find us in no time!”
The mare looked up at him, hope filling her brownish-gold eyes. “Do you t-think so?”
“I kn-know so!”
His enthusiasm made her smile. “You’re r-right. There’s n-n-no way she could abandon us l-like this.”
Night Shade pulled her closer to try and warm her up as another gale tore through the cave. “J-Just t-trust me.”
“I d-do. I wish it w-were better circumstances though…”
“W-Well, when w-we get b-b-back to C-Canterlot, Prism and I a-are gonna g-get a huge b-buffet dinner. W-Wanna j-join us?” Night kept smiling, despite the cold. “W-We’re gonna eat l-like kings! R-Right, P-Prism?... Prism…?”
The unicorn wasn’t responding to him. Night Shade slowly pulled himself away from Nightingale and crawled across the icy ground to where his friend lay huddled up. He nudged the pony, trying to wake him up.
“P-Prism, g-get up, pal,” he said louder, pushing him a little harder.
Prism’s body was cold, and growing stiffer. Night Shade shook him a little harder, feeling the fear gripping at his heart again. He checked the pony’s pulse. His expression dropped as dread overtook him. Now it was only himself and three other ponies…
“Is he o-okay?” Nightingale asked, getting more and more worried herself.
“W-We need to l-leave n-n-now,” said Night Shade, crawling back over to the other three. “We d-don’t have m-much food, and i-if w-we can f-find a town, we can l-lie low until the s-storm p-p-passes.”
“What?! Are you c-c-crazy?!” another mare cried out, shaking worse than he was. “We’ll d-die for s-sure out there!”
“In here i-isn’t stopping th-that,” Nightingale pointed out, glancing at Prism’s frozen body. “I agree w-with N-Night. We need to f-find better shelter.”
The two ponies began gathering up their equipment, the other two simply staring in shock. “Y-You’re actually g-going out there?! You’re both c-crazy!”
“Last chance,” Night offered, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering.
The two ponies exchanged looks, and then quickly grabbed their belongings as well. The four ponies huddled together, moving as one unit out of the cave and into the snow. The wind tugged at their uniforms, nearly blowing them over where they stood. They fought on, pressing through the thick, heavy snow and blistering wind.
They had no choice anymore. If they stopped, they died.
Night Shade was beginning to regret leaving the cave. They’d been walking longer than he could account for, but the blizzard didn’t show any signs of letting up. They had lost another pony along the way—the mare he didn’t know. Guilt ate away at his heart and soul. She was dead because he had convinced her to leave the cave with him. And now they were all going to die out here…
But Princess Celestia will come for us! She will! I know she will! he thought desperately, keeping his hopes high. She just has to! We need her to. She wouldn’t let us down.
He heard something heavy crunch through the snow behind him and quickly turned around. The only other stallion in their group had collapsed to the snow. Nightingale was desperately trying to get him back on his hooves. Night rushed over as quickly as the snow would permit.
“W-We have t-to g-get him up!” Nightingale cried out above the wind, tugging at the pony’s hooves. “We c-can’t l-leave him here! He’ll d-d-die!”
Night Shade grabbed the pony by his saddlebags and together they began to drag his body through the snow. The process was slow and arduous. Night’s muscles ached all over, burning under the effort as the air ripped at his skin like knives. His cheeks and eyes stung. In the blizzard, he could barely tell which way he was going anymore.
Nightingale cried out suddenly as she fell to the snow, losing her hold on the fallen pony. Night Shade hurried around to help her up. Her body was trembling uncontrollably to the point where she could barely stand.
“W-Wait! We c-can’t leave h-him!”
“He’s alr-ready d-dead,” said Night, checking the pony’s pulse. “We h-have to, Nightingale! W-We have to k-keep going so C-Celestia w-will f-find us!”
Nightingale hesitated, but reluctantly nodded. For the rest of the journey, the two ponies relied heavily on one another, leaning against the other as they trudged through the snow for support and warmth. They had to be getting close to a town by now. They’d been going for what felt like hours, and it was starting to get dark.
The wind picked up again, blowing flurries of snow into their faces and blinding them as they walked. Each step felt like a thousand to the pony. His body was sore all over, and he just wanted to lie down for a while. But they couldn’t, not now. They were so close. Celestia had to be around here somewhere by now. They were so close to being saved!
Night Shade began to picture it. Celestia would appear out of the blizzard, glowing in the golden light of the sun as her magic dispelled the storm. Warm sunlight would hit their bodies, and hundreds of guards would rush to their aid with food, hot chocolate, and blankets. They would be given a ride in Celestia’s own personal chariot back to Canterlot, and the nightmare would be over.
That was when Night suddenly realized he no longer felt Nightingale’s body against his.
Gasping sharply, he spun around. He could see the dark mass of her form lying facedown in the snow banks, unmoving. Leaping through his own tracks in the snow, Night rushed back to his fallen companion.
“N-Nightingale!” he cried desperately, nudging and pushing her body to roll her over. “Nightingale! S-Say something!”
Nightingale groaned weakly, blinking her eyes open so slowly. She stared off at the sky before focusing on his face. Snow clung to her mane and face. Almost all the color had drained from her cheeks, and she felt absolutely freezing. He quickly huddled himself around her, holding her close and rubbing her shoulders to try and warm her up again.
“H-Hang in there, N-Nightingale… W-We’re almost th-there…” he spoke softly to her, looking all around for any signs of the princess.
“N-Night… I don’t th-think we are…” Her voice was weak and broken. She was giving up the ghost.
“No, d-don’t you say that. P-Princess Celestia is c-c-coming for us. J-Just hold on a l-little longer… for m-me…”
“I… I can’t f-feel a-anything…”
“I’m h-here for y-you… I’ve g-got you…” Night Shade said to her, smiling his wide smile back down at her. “S-See? Everything’s f-f-fine… J-Just keep t-talking to m-me, okay…?”
Nightingale stared up at the snow falling and blowing around them. “My son l-loves the snow…”
Night Shade chuckled, his voice hoarse. If he could keep her talking, then he knew she was all right. “W-What’s his n-name?”
“Fleethoof… He a-and my my husband l-live in C-Cloudsdale…” she answered after a moment. “H-He’s such a b-brave, c-clever pony… He w-wants to b-be a soldier, like his mama…”
“W-Well, I’m g-gonna get you h-home to him, okay, Nightingale?” Night Shade said in promise. “You just g-gotta hold on a l-little l-longer…”
“N-Night S-S-Shade…”
“C-Celestia’s c-coming… She’s j-just… a l-little l-late… is all…” He kept desperately looking around, praying with all his might to see the princess somewhere in the distance.
“Night…”
He glanced down at the pegasus in his hooves. She was looking right at him. Her eyes were glassy and sad. She was tearing up. Her hoof gripped tight to his coat, holding on to him for dear life.
“Why did this happen…?” she asked weakly, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. “Why did she abandon us…?”
Night Shade didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to, or what to even say to that. He could see the light beginning to fade in Nightingale’s eyes, and heard her exhale. And then she lay still. Panic took over swiftly.
“No, no… No! N-Nightingale! Nighting-gale…! S-Stay with m-me…! Come on, N-Nightingale!” he called out, shaking her in his hooves as warm tears began to burn down his frozen cheeks. “D-Don’t do th-this…! Don’t g-give in! Nightingale…! You h-have to g-go h-home… You h-have to s-see your f-family…! They’re w-waiting for y-you…!”
No response came from the mare he was clinging on to. Night Shade clenched his jaw in anger, holding on to the body of his companion as tightly as he could. His breathing was hard and labored, fighting back the seething sorrow and anger. Celestia was nowhere to be seen. She had left them for dead. He let out a scream of pure rage, louder than any blizzard could hope to be. His eyes burned with fire while his heart stung from the betrayal.
He gently closed Nightingale’s eyes for the last time. His anger warming him, he began to drag her body with him through the snow. He didn’t care how long it took him. He wasn’t going to leave her behind to be lost like the others.
Celestia had betrayed him. Celestia had betrayed them all. They were all dead because she didn’t save them in time. She didn’t save them at all! Night’s eyes narrowed and he snorted. How dare she? How could she send them off to do her bidding and leave them for dead? He would get answers for this. He would make her pay for what she did to them.
Night Shade continued on, each step bringing his fury to a new boiling point. But as much as his emotions ran strong, his body did not. He fell several times while carrying Nightingale’s body with him, but he persevered. He carried his friend until he couldn’t physically move her anymore. His strength was entirely sapped.
A fresh wave of hot tears ran down his face as he hugged Nightingale goodbye. “I’m s-s-sorry… I’m s-so s-sorry…”
Reaching into her jacket, he grabbed at the metal tags hanging around her neck. If he couldn’t take her body back, he could at least bring her name back with him to her family. It took most of his remaining strength to pull the chain off from around her neck.
He felt like dying. All the pony truly wanted to do was give up, to lay down and die beside her in the snow. But he had a reason to go on now. If he died, then nopony would remain to tell the truth. Nightingale’s family had to know. Princess Celestia had to know.
He took one last look at his teammate. Snow had already begun to accumulate and bury her body beneath the infinite white. Night Shade stuffed the dog tags safely in his breast pocket and continued his long, grueling trek through the frozen wasteland.
Alone.
Shining Armor found Fleethoof sitting alone down at The Copper Cannon, one of the largest taverns in Canterlot, and the premiere spot for off-duty soldiers in the Guard. Spirits were high in the bar, torches and candles throwing dim orange light all around the soldiers celebrating the disestablishment of The Double-Edged Sword, and the definitive victories above and below ground. Stories were shared between comrades, and laughter abounded from everypony.
Everypony except one solitary stallion.
Shining Armor approached the oak bar and pulled up a stool next to his friend, beckoning the barkeep over. “A cider—better make it a double. It’s been a long one.”
Fleethoof cast a sideways glance at his friend seated beside him. “Cadance sent you, didn’t she?”
“Nope. She’s here too,” Shining said, taking a sip of his drink. “But she filled me in already.”
Fleethoof looked over his shoulder, glancing around the tavern. “Where is she then?”
“She’s outside, waiting for me to soften you up and relax you before she comes in. You really shook her up. That’s not easy for a lot of ponies to do. I think she's scared of you now.”
Fleethoof didn’t respond, not even to his joke. The captain idly swirled his half finished drink around in his glass, watching the liquid churn around ice cubes.
“I’m sorry, Fleethoof. I can’t believe something like that happened. I mean, what are the odds? A million to one? A billion to one?”
“That’s how he knew me…” muttered Fleethoof. “He knew me from my mother. That’s why he couldn’t hurt me. It’s why he would only talk to me. He trusted my mother, so he trusted me. That’s why he kept saying we were the same… But why didn’t he tell me?”
“Who knows? He was insane. But it doesn’t make you like him, Fleet,” the Captain of the Guard said, surreptitiously waving Cadance away as she entered the bar, signaling her to keep her distance.
“I can see you,” Fleethoof remarked, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly in a feeble smirk. “She can come over. I don’t care.”
Shining Armor changed his signal on a dime, waving her over. Cadance rolled her eyes and approached the two ponies, leaning against the bar top at the other side of Fleethoof, leaning forward so she could see his face better.
“Are you okay, Fleethoof?” Of course that was going to be her first question.
“What do you think, Cadance? You can tell what I'm feeling.”
The princess’ lips pursed together momentarily, planning her next move carefully, like a game of chess. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’m a fucking moron for missing the signs… That I just killed a pony distraught and mentally ill from watching his friends die… I killed the pony that probably risked his life to try and save my own mother,” Fleethoof said and huffed, an odd mixture of guilt and anger making him feel sick. “I don’t even know how to process this… I don’t know what to do now…”
“You didn’t kill him, Fleethoof. Your sniper did,” Shining Armor pointed out.
The pegasus dropped his hooves to the counter and rolled his eyes. “Oh gee, thanks. That makes everything all right. I’m all better now.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Shining. I just… What do you do when you learn a terrorist tried to kill hundreds of ponies to avenge the death of your own mother? All these years, I never knew what happened to her. All this time I kept thinking she was alive somewhere. Now that I know the truth, I don’t know if it makes it any better…”
“It was a coincidence, Fleet.” Shining Armor patted his friend on the back. “Nopony could have known.”
Fleethoof paused. “Celestia did…”
“What are you thinking, Fleet?” he asked, suddenly very apprehensive. “You’re not going down that road, are you?”
“No, no. Never. But all this time, Celestia knew, and she never said a word to me. I feel angry, and I want to do something with it, but what? I’m not a rebel, but I just… I need to do something to redeem my mother and Night Shade.”
Shining Armor and Princess Cadance exchanged a quick look behind Fleethoof’s back. Cadance nodded to him.
“Well, you know, you could always fight the bad guys in their name, kinda like you’ve been doing,” he suggested, taking Nightingale’s dog tags from Cadance and gently placing them in front of his friend. “Night Shade might’ve gone about it the wrong way, but you could do it for good. I’m sure your mom would be really proud of you doing that, Fleet.”
Fleethoof’s blue eyes lingered on the rusting metal tags in front of him. He studied the name engraved on the surface. He could just about see Night Shade with his mother, fighting together, trying to survive in the bitter cold. He tried to block out every thought after that.
The pony gingerly picked up the tags in his hoof, turning them over a few times. He mulled the idea about in his head. His mother had been so proud of her position in the Guard. She had inspired him. Now he had the chance to live for her.
A soft smile touched Fleethoof's face, finally looking up at Shining Armor, and then to Cadance. “Thank you, both of you…”
“Hey, come on, what are friends for? I’ve always got your back, buddy,” Shining Armor said, lifting his glass. “Hey, to Nightingale.”
Fleethoof smiled, a deep, sentimental smile, and gently clinked his glass against the edge of Shining’s. “To my mother.”
Both ponies downed their drinks together, and put their glasses down at the same time. “Come on, Cadance and I wanna take you out to dinner. Consider it a ‘We’re sorry for what happened’ condolence.”
“I’d really rather not.”
Shining Armor shrugged. “Okay then. How about a ‘Congratulations on taking down a terrorist cell’ celebration?”
Fleethoof looked between the smiling faces of both mare and stallion. They were hopeful, anxiously awaiting his acceptance. It was abundantly clear that they weren’t going to let him go alone tonight—like true friends. He smiled, a genuine smile.
“I love you two.”
The three ponies made their way back towards the door. A board up along the wall to the side of the door caught the pegasus’ attention. Its surface glistened and gleamed with glossy photos, dog tags, and medals, hung up for all to see. ‘Our Honored Fallen’ read the sign above the board. Fleethoof hesitated.
“You two go on, I’ll catch up in a moment. There’s something I need to do real quick.”
He waited for both the captain and the princess to leave the tavern, then he approached the board. His eyes studied the faces of every pony hung there. So many names were left in remembrance. Some ponies he recognized from the war, even if only in passing. A large photograph of Captain Phalanx hung just above eye level, his insignia pinned to the paper.
Fleethoof swallowed hard, and then took a free pin sitting lazily in the board’s surface. He picked an empty space near Phalanx’s portrait and set the pin up. It took him an emotional moment, but he slowly pulled Nightingale’s tags out of his pocket and hung them on the board, watching them sway and glisten in the light before laying still.
A tear touched the corner of his eye. Unlike before, now it felt like he was truly saying goodbye to his mother. Fleethoof touched the tags one last time, and then exited the tavern, leaving the past behind him while carrying the memory in his heart.
The train ride back to Canterlot was long and tiring. It took a little over a day to reach the capital city from whatever outlying settlement Night Shade had ended up in. He spent the entire trip silent, sitting like a statue, and contemplating what he was going to do. He knew he had to talk to Princess Celestia about this mess and her lack of action—but beyond that, he had no clue.
A soft jingling was made every time he moved his hooves, causing the tags he held to shift about. He had been idly playing with them for the past few hours. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t block the mental image of Nightingale’s death out of his head. It haunted him like a ghost infecting his brain, detaching him from reality.
Her family. Night Shade still had to seek out Nightingale’s family and let them know what had happened, hopefully before the Guard notified them. It would be easier news to take coming from a friend. But how he was going to get to Cloudsdale was still something he had in the works. Maybe there was a spell or something he could find when he got back home.
The train whistle blared, signaling their approach into the city. Night blinked. He hadn’t even realized they were close to arriving until they were right up on the station. Moving felt like a chore to his sore body. He lumbered like a zombie off the car, trudging through the terminal. All he had left was his uniform and his bags. His rifle had been lost in the blizzard, and everything else had been rationed out for their survival. What a waste it had been…
A small foal was shouting something out near the terminal exit. He was selling newspapers. Ordinarily, Night Shade would have ignored the colt, but he had to know what had happened in his absence. Perhaps it would say Celestia had already sent reinforcements, and maybe she wasn’t as bad as he was making her out to be.
His hopes soared. He spent a bit to buy a paper—and instantly wished he hadn’t. The newspaper headline made his heart stop beating and drop into his stomach.
GUARDS SLAIN BY MONSTERS
A wave of nausea and faintness came over the pony as he continued to read the lies within the story.
Their group had been stationed in the Frozen North. Lies.
Unknown assailants attacked without warning. Lies.
Reinforcements had been dispatched, but were too late. Lies.
There was no trace of the bodies. They had been taken or the soldiers had gone missing. More lies!
There were no survivors.
With each printed sentence Night Shade read, the more his anger began to flare up within him again. His hooves were shaking he was so angry. Flashes of red started to black out his vision. The next thing he knew, he had torn the paper asunder, gripping fistfuls of confetti in his hooves.
So there were no survivors, were there? Well, he’d make sure there would be no survivors then. Celestia wanted him gone so badly, then he’d just disappear. But he would make her pay. Oh yes, she would pay dearly for this treachery. But he couldn’t see her now. If he showed up at the castle, a big ordeal would be made, and he wouldn’t be able to speak to the princess alone.
Already Night Shade’s mind began racing with furious thoughts and dark ideas. His head was spinning and pounding. It was suddenly difficult to breathe. He sat down on a public bench inside the station, trying to calm himself down enough to function.
Nightingale would be avenged someday. All of his friends lost in the snow and ice would have their retribution. He’d make sure of it himself. But what about their families? What about Nightingale’s? Her son would be waiting for his mother, who would never return.
Sorrow gripped at his soul at the thought of that little foal, eagerly awaiting the return of the war hero he loved. But if Celestia had this cover story printed, it was most likely that the family had also been informed and fed these false stories. Their families probably thought they were all ambushed and gone, not holding any hope for any funerals, or any animosity for the tyrant that had ordered their deaths.
Night Shade slowly pulled out the silver dog tags, twirling them around in his hooves as he thought for a moment. He couldn’t even mail them to the family. Then they’d question where they came from if the bodies were all taken. He couldn’t put an innocent family, especially the family of his teammate, through something like that. No, he’d have to protect them. He’d have to protect Fleethoof, at least until he was old enough to know, if he still joined the Guard.
But for now, he had to disappear.
He checked his coin purse. Only five bits remained. That wouldn’t get him anywhere, except maybe some nearby little town, or some quiet, infrequently traveled location. The further away the better. Night looked up at the map above the ticket booths, plotting his course, and then approached the window and pushed the last of his money away.
“A ticket to Hoofington. One way.”