Kinetics

by Habanc

Book 1: Chapter 7

Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria, was pleased. A valley awaited before her, once white and pristine under a fresh blanket of snow. It was winter, and the fact she was at the foothills of the Great Northern Plateau did not stem its characteristics. But the Vale of Astor was no longer pure. Crimson and corpses speckled and smeared the landscape like messy hoofwriting, explosions and beams of light tearing through a dozen ponies at a time.

Her army was slowly shoving back their opponents, despite their numerical disadvantage. Luna only had thirteen thousand ponies at her disposal, and of that, ten thousand were deployed. But what Equestria lacked in numbers, it made up in ability. Fresh conscripts were worked and beaten until they conformed to a mold, one that emphasized discipline and unwavering loyalty, one that did its best to destroy fear and self-interest. Victory and cohesion was all that mattered, individual lives did not.

With a pop and a flash of white, a battered and bloodied unicorn appeared beside her, his plated armor dented and sliced, red pasted over his blue coat. His breaths came out in labored wheezes, a telltale sign of a punctured lung. “Princess, Lord Gevarre's forces hath entered the field from the west. Between King Rasmus' and his own, our left flank is sustaining heavy losses.”

The alicorn licked her lips, a wicked smile rising in her face. She whispered to herself, “Excellent.”

Looking to the weary battlemage, she ordered, “Tend to thy wounds, Castor Halcyon, thy role is fulfilled. Keep the middle supplied with reserves.” Luna turned on the snowy hill they were perched on, a perfect vantage point over the raging battle. Perfect, except for the flaw of her western flank being hidden by a large ridge. Or so her enemies thought.

Lord Gevarre was an inspiration to every pony of Ipernia. The stallion who beat back Ursa Paragon, the ruthless leader of the Eastern Shores. The stallion who saved Queen Ophillus from a hundred legionnaires during the Siege of Noros. The stallion who brought a Sephron Chieftain to his knees with words alone. The stallion who would beg for mercy, just as all the others did, when she got her hooves on him.

This conflict had transcended petty border skirmishes and saber-rattling. An assassin had made an attempt on Celestia's life, and Luna's web of eyes and ears had told her it came from King Rasmus' court. And even she was a fan of dirty, underhoofed tactics, but this was far below that. This was futile.

Princess Luna loved Celestia. She was the other half she could always turn to with her problems, to lean on. Their personalities were stark contrasts, as black is to white. And to her, for some reason, that was only for the better. So when the King of Ipernia makes a threat on who she adores the most, she hits back with what she loves only slightly less.

It took two hundred years to rise Equestria out of the ashes from a tiny, revolting fief in the Everfree Forest. Celestia was the ruler, the talker, the charmer. She took in census reports and balance sheets, turning out allegiances and treaties. Her mastery of politics and persuasion led to rending nobility all but a title. The aristocrats drawn to their successes found themselves as “Head of Treasury” or “Chief Adjudicator”, rather than ruling over a province, bound by a flimsy vassalage. Luna was the general, the enforcer, the terror. She used conscripts and information to put forth victories and carnage. A large part of central modern-day Equestria was theirs. By then, even in their infancy, the two were known. They had worked in tandem to fight from within the forest, to securing footholds in nearby provinces, to finally claiming their spot as established players in the sovereign game.

Celestia was the one who moved most of the pieces, setting the cogs in motion. Luna knew this, but she did not mind. She knew where her talents lie. Luna might win a debate, and Celestia might win a battle. But Celestia would always win a debate, and Luna always won the battle.

If the King of Ipernia thought he could bully Equestria, he was a fool. Worse yet, if he thought he could take out Celestia, he should have known that her counterpart would be bringing down her wrath upon them. And that all started here, where Luna would shear off their hope as she did the same to Gevarre's legs.

“Guzar Firestar, to Us!” Luna called as she strode along the hilltop. An orange coated, red and yellow maned pegasus fell in line with her as he descended to the ground. Heavy plates of amber steel covered him from neck to hoof, boots spiked and wings bladed. Hardened golden eyes stared straight ahead as he walked next to her.

“Prepare thine ponies from behind the hill. We shall arrive in a moment.” Her horn lit up, a set of indigo armor materializing around her body. It dimmed at last as a light azure cloak appeared over her back. “The chisel is in place, Our friend.” Her smile flared. “Tis time to swing the hammer.”

A thousand pegasi raced beneath her, making their way over the hill. Luna thought it was a marvelous sight to behold. Armored to the edge of what an Equestrian pegasus could carry, who were trained for strength and power rather than speed and agility, they were a flying mass of iron and lance. Disciplined beyond even the limits of mortality, they were her ace of spades. They were her destriers, and they were about to turn the slight cracks of opportunity into a gaping hole.

As they carried on over the icy and white terrain, the din of battle grew louder. Metal clashed and clanged, spells burst and exploded on the ground, and screams cried for mercy and death. The dark silver of Luna's own army was meshed with the white and brown tunics of Ipernia. A large battle line scarred the ground, bending and flexing as each side vied for control. A constant stream of silver trickled into the center, forcing the line to convex out as the added numbers created a bulge.

As they got closer to the far ridge, however, the scene was different. A blotch of silver was disintegrating under a horseshoe of white and brown. By Luna's estimate, Lord Gevarre must have brought a force of four thousand. A nice bolster to the eighteen thousand King Rasmus once had at his disposal, but there came a point where numbers faltered.

Guzar Firestar appeared beside his leader, his voice as hard as the frozen earth hundreds of feet below, “Princess, we have but one minute before arrival.” He knew the drill.

“Tell me, Guzar, which thou preferest...” Luna cracked her neck as she moved her head from side to side. “The Lunar Pulse or The Tides of Polaris?”

“I would suggest The Tides of Polaris, Your Highness.” He kept his eyes towards the crumbling battle line. The advancing column of destriers were closing in.

“Very well.” Luna's smile wavered slightly. The Lunar Pulse was so much fun.

Regardless, she had to be timely about it. It would be a shame if she burnt any of her prized soldiers. Closing her eyes, a white swirl of pure power began to come together around her horn, building like a violent, savage beacon. It pulsed and shimmered, magic increasing exponentially as the seconds ticked away. And then, when her eyes opened back up, her grin returned as lively as ever.

What came next was a torrent of energy, emitted from her horn in a series of rotating cylinders, almost like tumbleweed in a gust of wind. The energy hummed and crackled as it seared through the air, rolling down towards the mass of ponies below.

Carnage in its finest evening dress.

Flesh melted, screams burnt in the superheated air, suits of armor cooked their occupants alive as The Tides of Polaris continually slammed the exact middle of Lord Gevarre's line. Six hundred ponies, gone in less than a moment. Luckily for her enemies, however, the spell was so taxing that Luna couldn't cast it more than once. But then again, that was all she needed.

Her destriers arrived just in time to drive the devastation onward. Ponies were trampled, impaled, and otherwise wiped off the face of the planet. Ribcages shattered, lances snapped, and skulls fractured against metal plates as the hulking pegasi stormed by. The southern side of Lord Gevarre's ponies began to crumple and buckle as hundreds of living cannonballs impacted their already-chaotic formation. Streaks of silver dove through a hundred yards of brown, before either pulling up for another pass or landing to fight hoof-to-hoof. Each one knew the criteria for either option, and what their roles were. They would fight until they or the Iperians were all dead, unless Guzar Firestar or the Princess herself handed out new orders.

“Shall we not give them a hoof, Firestar?” Luna watched the destriers still making their way into the fray.

“I mean thee no disgrace, Princess, but I doubt they will need it so soon.” At last, he put his face up towards hers. “However, my answer means little, I fear. There is blood yet to be spilled, and it beckons thee.”

Luna rolled her eyes. “How many years hast thou been Grand Marshall, Guzar Firestar?”

“Almost a decade, Your Highness.”

“And by Our side, thou hast fought how many battles?”

“More than thirty, Princess.”

“And yet thou thinkest still tis simply bloodlust We desire.” Luna shook her head. “We shall educate thee, since thou art too valuable to punish.” She paused, watching as the southern side of the Ipernians were pushed into a thin band between her forces. “Tis all about the game, Firestar. Tis the thrills and the sensations We feel as We most cleverly outmaneuver and destroy Our opponents, whether tis over one battle or a whole war. Tis the satisfaction as We assert Ourselves once again as the smartest tactician, the pony who canst wield and crush armies beneath her hoof. Tis the power We feel as We simply outclass others in a game where thousands of lives canst be annihilated by the simplest slip of mind.”

“I see.” Guzar Firestar nodded. Slowly, he continued, “I am still left wondering, would thou likest to go down?”

Princess Luna flashed her teeth as her lips curled upwards. “Of course. Violence is a most decadent, acquired taste, Firestar. Tis one that We hath no problem indulging in, especially when it plays to Our advantage.”

“Such as, Your Highness?”

“Morale. Crushing one and boosting another.” Luna pulled her wings in along her sides, plummeting towards earth. “Come, Firestar, tis time.”

A plume of snow, ice, and rock rose into the air as the Princess landed. It was all about the entrance, and her innate earth pony magic helped with that. Augmented strength and a durability to turn her bones into steel, it wasn't much of a feat to slam the wintry ground at just less than a nosedive. But it had it's desired effect.

“She's here!” A wail arose from the mayhem.

Princess Luna arrived at the vanguard of the destriers, where the fighting was at it's most bitter. The peasant levies of Gevarre were no match for her elite, but in some cases, they outnumbered her own three-to-one. And when that happened, occasionally a hoof-spike or a spear would land in the right place. Such a shame.

It was time to turn the tables. The battered and weary left flank needed a boost, both physically and mentally. She had to break through and meet up with them, the sooner the better. They had been withstanding assaults for almost half an hour now, and as much as she liked to believe all of her troops were fearless, she knew they would break soon. Yet, she did have one trick up her sleeve, and hopefully it would give her the time she needed.

Using an amplification spell, her personal battle-cry carried on the wind for miles: “Thine hope is now forfeit, night has fallen!”

“Night has fallen!” Choruses sounded from both the destriers and the surrounded troops. The tempo of battle increased, with metal clashing louder, shrieks becoming more frequent, and bodies crumpling to their demise.

Looking around, Luna was disappointed that none of Lord Gevarre's ponies dared to challenge her. She sighed, proclaiming, “Pity. Tis the bravest of ye who make the best examples.” Focusing her glare on one unicorn in particular, she watched as his eyes widened, pupils dilating. He tried his best to backpedal with all his might, but the ponies behind him were in no mood to take his place. Drawing out a shaft of pure moonlight with a flick of magic, Luna uttered, “Thou wilt do.”

“No ple-”

His plea for mercy was cut short as Luna made up the distance between them in a literal flash, the blade of soft light having gone clean through the center of his neck. His vocal chords were undoubtedly severed, that would shut him up. Yet, the more Luna thought about it, so too would the destruction of major arteries and the slicing of his spinal cord.

Regardless, there were more pressing matters at hoof.

Most of his comrades had begun to flee, pushed beyond their threshold for terror. One, however, was standing right next to her, rooted to the spot. He looked to her with a pale, ghastly look, like every drop of blood in his veins had simply vanished. Removing the blade from her previous victim, she soon discovered her observations about the second pony to be wrong as she cleaved him in half with a single swipe.

“Guzar Firestar, thou art late. Thou wert not present for Our entrance, nor the arrival of Regolith,” Luna remarked as the orange stallion landed nearby.

“A thousand apologies, Your Highness.” Luna flicked her ear irritably as his words lingered on the indistinguishable cusp of mockery and a stoic voice. “Thou dost know how I despise battlemages.”

Luna smiled to herself. “We know much of thine loathing.” She glanced around, watching as the nearby Iperians fled. “Come, let Us make haste for the main line. We thinkest it best that they see their Princess fighting alongside them, so as to shake their vigor and renew their strength.” She set off sprinting, heading right for a group of Ipernian fighters.

“Tis a wise plan, Princess,” Firestar remarked as they arrived into the fray, caving in a skull with a powerful punch from a spiked hoof.

“We know.” Luna sidestepped a desperate lunge with a burst of agility, then ran the mare through. “Tis why We are general, is it not?” A flash of her horn sent bolts of energy towards two more, the destructive magic searing straight through them.

Firestar grunted as a javelin slammed into his side. Luckily, it was a poor throw, coming down too slowly as it deflected off his tempered armor. Whipping around to spot his assailant, he found the unicorn towards the back of the group. Luna trailed him as he began to plow through opponents, dealing out jarring and grievous blows with hooves and occasional flicks of his wings.

Good, Firestar, thou art learning. 'Twould be easy to simply fly over thine opponents, but thou createst much fear when leaving bodies in thine wake. Tis more efficient to break an army's spirit than it is their bones.

Luna contented herself to pick of stragglers, using blade and bolt alike. Were she not deeply deprived of magic from her Tides of Polaris, this whole mess would've been dealt with in a matter of seconds.

The unicorn pinged another javelin off Firestar as he continued his approach. Glancing up from a pegasus stallion who lay limply on the ground, he broke into a charge, flaring out his wings to cut at anypony foolish enough to get in his way. As he narrowed down the yards between them, he took one leap, and, as he hit the snow, struck out with an iron hoof. A feeble telekinetic field sprung up before him, but it only just slowed him down. The javelin thrower crumpled like a twig house before a battering ram, flying backwards and skidding for several feet.

Yet, the poor display of magic did prolong his life. The crippled fighter coughed and rolled over onto his back, clutching where the left side of his ribcage had been reduced to dust. Firestar was upon him in an instant, extinguishing him with a quick jab of a hoof spike.

As the remaining soldiers broke and fled, Luna caught up to her Lieutenant. “We think it amusing thou hatest battlemages, yet thou art loyal to a pony more learned on battle magics than any other being alive. Why is that so?”

Guzar Firestar looked up, panting quietly. “Because thou, Princess, art not afraid to use thine hooves. I hast seen thou destroyest more ponies with Regolith than even the most skilled bladecaster. Tis not all unicorns I despise, but the ones who display cowardice as battle arrives faster than they canst teleport. Often, tis a role reserved for battlemages.”

Luna laughed. “Thou art fearless and relentless, Firestar, We commend thee for that. But take heed should thou wishest to lead thine own one day; thou mayest meet a battlemage who does not falter. Rather, he may match thee blow for blow, and then, thou shalt know fear.”

Leaving the fiery pegasus to think to himself, Luna launched herself into the air and took off into the deteriorating melee, spots of dark silver showing through the frantic wall of brown and white. They were close, the western flank was only a hundred yards away at most. Yet, pinned between her soldiers, the Ipernians were fighting with the desperation of a cornered animal, struggling for their very survival.

Signaling them in a pulse of light, the remaining Destriers in the air formed up in a wedge around her, gaining speed as they flew just feet over the stained ground. Luna held Regolith out in front of her, much like her destriers did with their lances, except levitated by magic rather than couched and cradled with a foreleg. Flaring her horn, she placed an enchantment to harden her skin, since she was leading the charge and had no helmet. Her armor would be more than sufficient to batter down anypony in her way, but her face was still unprotected. Alicorns could still be cut, she could still bleed. With any luck, the enchantment would last until well after the initial charge.

No amount of desperation would steel Gevarre's ponies for this. A faint flicker of pity lit in Luna for a moment as she watched the peasant levies get crushed once again. It wasn't fair in any sense of the word. However, the moment was brushed aside as she arrived horn-first with a earth pony, somehow missing her blade. Using a cleansing spell as she closed her eyes, she felt the occasional bump or jolt as another pony fell victim to a combination of her heavy armor and sheer momentum.

Finally beginning to slow down, she peeped open an eye. All clear, mostly. Only a few Ipernians remained between her and her ponies. She figured they'd be dealt with soon enough. With a tilt of her wings, she flared them out to slow herself down.

“Arkein Starling!” she called as she glided towards her own lines. The weary ponies shuffled and parted as she landed, many of them looking to her, their dark armor battered and bloodied. Luna briefly wondered where their stains came from more, their enemies or their comrades? A half an hour under oppressive conditions was remarkable feat for her stallions and mares, let alone anypony else. A small gust of pride welled within her, leading to a genuine smile as the exhausted commander trotted up to her. His helmet was long gone, a dark purple mane spilling out and a hasty bandage wrapped around his left eye.

“Your Excellency?” the earthpony asked, bowing as much as his body would permit. His neck muscles strained and tightened as his head tilted down not more than a few inches.

“Dost thou thinkest thine ponies are not too exhausted for one more fight?”

Starling grinned, eyes flashing as he replied, “To Discord's Realm and back, Princess, will we follow thee. Lead on.”

She adjusted her crown, and let her gaze roll over every soldier nearby, raising her voice, “We know of thine hurts, thine pain and fatigue! We know thine muscles call for rest, thine wounds call for mending, but such a time is not now! Tis time for a final assault, to secure victory over those who dare threaten us and our Princess! Steel thine nerves and sharpen thine minds, for our hour is nigh! Ponies of Equestria, now is the time for courage, for valor! Ponies of Equestria, to Us!”

She turned her back to them, looking upon the smaller group of destriers slowly carving a path into Lord Gevarre's remaining ponies, although when coupled with King Rasmus' they were outnumbered nearly four to one. With the middle of her line still behind schedule, it would be some time before help arrived. Her first plan dashed, its sordid backup was to inspire the ragged, beleaguered left flank to attack one last time.

The exhilarating rush of gambling overtook the Princess, the tactical treading on a wire as she put everything on the line to see her master strategy through. She'd never lost yet, although admittedly there were few occasions where the risks were as high as this. And although she could still win whether or not the ponies around her broke, if she didn't succeed here then the entire war would become much more difficult. Ipernia was twice the size of Equestria, and had many more ponies at their disposal. If their hope still lived after the Vale of Astor, then her campaign would become truly be perilous.

“For night, day, and glory, charge!”

Celestia had only seen her in action twice, once outside of the Everfree during the days of their rebellion, and the other during the siege of their capital, Aequus. If only she could see her now. Her little sister, Luna, doing the impossible; leading the most depleted and run-down group of soldiers on a heroic charge over snow and ice, showing that she too could compel ponies to do as she wanted. Celestia would be so proud.

Adrenaline still lingered in Luna's veins, letting her own ponies race ahead of her, after a brief foray of slashing and hacking at the front of the charge. Her destriers were now mixed with the common soldier, tipping the tides in her favor. It would only be a matter of time before the Ipernians would start to lose ground, and with any luck, Castor Alphus and her ponies from the middle of the line would begin to pour in. For what reason could they be late? We hath left Castor Halcyon with orders to bolster her area of battle. She had enough ponies to break King Rasmus' lines long ago.

She had been fighting for long enough. Now, it was time to watch the battle progress and make corrections as necessary. Her presence on the field was just another tool she kept in her repertoire, one she intended to use as carefully and efficiently as possible. With the haze of battle and her energy slowly receding, she noticed the soreness and stiffness in her limbs, fatigue hanging like a weight around her neck as another reminder that she was far from invincible.

“Starling!” Luna called. The earthpony appeared by her side in moments, heaving as he wrested for breath, complete with a fresh layer of nicks and cuts. “Ah, good, We were most worried We had lost thee. We must admit, thine endurance is remarkable, a true feat even for ponies of your race.”

“Many thanks, Your Highness,” he replied with another strained bow. “Tis hard to put down a Pomarius, I assure thee.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed with a knowing nod, “We remember thine grandsire, Rowan Pomarius. Thou hast acquired his tenacity and relentlessness, tis much apparent. However, We are assuming command here, and ordering thee to make haste for a surgeon. Thou art a worthy commander, and a shame it would be to lose thee now. Go.”

The earthpony looked crestfallen, but he kept his chin high and bowed regardless. “Yes, Princess.”

As he started to leave, Luna looked around and picked out a unicorn, trotting up to her. “Canst thou teleport?”

The mare was taken completely by surprise, a javelin levitating beside her, about to be thrown. Her telekinesis popped and the weapon fell to the ground as she quickly looked to her princess and general. “Y-Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good. Thine services are required, mare. Thou shalt accompany Arkein Starling, and provide teleportation to ease his travel. Is that understood?”

Some sense of composure regained, she nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.” Without another word, she galloped off, relieved to be out of her sovereign's spotlight.

Turning around, Luna let her gaze assess the situation before her. The Ipernians were slowly losing ground, that was for sure. A group of Equestrians, mainly destriers, were wreaking havoc by slipping off from the main group and harassing their opponent's flank. That, and an amber pegasus landed heavily nearby, a hindleg held off the ground as he limped towards her.

“Guzar Firestar!” Luna exclaimed, closing the gap between them. “In the name of the stars, what cruel fate hath fallen upon thee?” His massive plates of armor had been crumpled and crushed like a stomped acorn shell, his mane frayed and one eye swollen shut. With a quick scan of magic, she poured her efforts into a healing spell to close his major gashes and lacerations, mostly precision slices and cuts, only millimeters wide. She was surprised he could still stand.

“Princess...” he muttered weakly.

“Yes?” Looking up from her work, she noticed something different in his expression. A slight glimmer in his eyes gave it away. Something was wrong with him, and it took her more than a moment to discover what it was. His rock-wall stoicism had been reduced by rubble, by a force she previously did not equate with her lieutenant. Fear.

No...

“You must leave, Princess... Now.”

A second source of light grew in the sky, ballooning in size and brightness until it appeared to resemble a second sun. Her peripheral caught her ponies drop their weapons, looking up with fear-stricken faces. Then, as quickly as it arrived, the ball of light went out.

In less than a thought, Princess Luna cast a shield around herself and Firestar before the world snapped and went white.

Eyes popping open, Luna rolled upright, breathing heavily. A cold sweat coated her back and forehead, her small blanket damp. She glanced around, looking for any survivors, particularly Guzar Firestar. But instead, all she found was Twilight and Sky, curled up under their own blankets, sleeping peacefully. Slowly, her surroundings came into being. White canvas dominated her vision, closing in around her, and she could feel the grass under her hindlegs. A slight gap in the pale, slanted walls led out to a dark sky, dotted with stars.

Just a dream... Luna sighed, wiping her face with a foreleg. She licked her lips and remained upright, forcing a deep, steady breath through her lungs. Her body still quivered from her trip through the past, the rush of battle and the pangs for power feeling as real as ever. Never again. Not now, not ever.

Falling back to the ground, Luna shivered under her lackluster blanket and tried to let sleep claim herself once more, hopefully of the more peaceful variety. Yet, it was fended off as her mind continued to wander and wonder. What worried her the most, was what had prompted her to bring up such dark memories? The Vale of Astor was a blunder both she and her former self would love to forget. Worse yet, she knew it was where her slope began, a long, slow, agonizing fall to the depths of morality and despair, a time she loathed to remember.

Knocking on a heavy wooden door with a heavier, iron-clad hoof, Sir Kazius waited patiently.

“Come in.”

With a quick pull on the door's handle, Kazius entered the room. King Leszek sat behind his desk, reviewing a scroll before setting it down. Glancing up to his lifelong friend, he asked, “Well? Are they gone?”

“Yes, Leszek, they are. They should be well into the Domelle by now, and into Erhani territory in less than a week.”

The king sighed. “Good. With those two out of my mane, that makes things a bit easier.” Turning around the parchment in front of him so Kazius could see, he continued on, “You should see this. The reports are getting worse by the day, and it seems our efforts have been in vain.”

Kazius skimmed his eyes over the rushed hoofwriting. “May The Winds guide us...”