//------------------------------// // Prologue: The Battle that Never Was. // Story: Birthright // by Netaro //------------------------------// Birthright Prologue: The Battle That Never Was A cold gust of wind hit commander Sky High as he looked at the tactical map of Equestria. His yellowish wings shivered, making his shining pegasi-tailored armor clink. The cold air made his breaths visible, but his mind didn't register the uncomfortable weather, instead focused on more pressing matters. Carefully calculating his movements across the map, Sky High moved blue, levitating figurines of pegasi and griffon air forces from one miniature cloud to another, clashing them in imagined battle with other pegasi figurines, painted yellow. On the surface of cloud-made table, representations of unicorn and earth ponies stood in one place, marked with miniature flag that had “Civilian Populace” written on it in small letters. Although fully focused on inventing the best possible backup plans, he did hear a soft sound of paws stepping on clouds behind him, accompanied with clinks of armor, a sound that would otherwise be lost in swarm of voices, orders and screams of Southern Cloudsdale. “Commander Sky High, Sir?” a female voice said, “I've been ordered to deliver status reports to you.” “...Say it,” Sky High responded, his mind and eyes still focused on the map, his hooves swiftly maneuvering figurines around. “Sir, engineers report that ARENAS weapon will be online and ready to fire in approximately ten minutes,” the female griffon soldier reported. Sky High stopped, leaving levitating warriors where they were placed, mid-skirmish, and turned right, walking towards the edge of flat platform overlooking a part of Southern Cloudsdale. From his raised position, he observed a swarm of pegasi work-force and griffon engineers circling a white dome-like structure, four-pony wide at its base, and large, iron truss-columns anchoring the structure firmly to the clouds. A slew of cables lay on the cloud, covering it like a spider's web. In the far distance, on custom-crafted set of clouds, he saw shining, metallic cylinders, something that engineers called “Ambient Magic Collectors”, connected to the main dome-like part of ARENAS by the thickest bunch of cables he has ever seen in his life. Directly below him, he noticed high-ranking generals and engine-architects reading diagrams and lines of text displayed on bulky, monochromatic monitors squeezed between innumerable switches and dials. The entire place worked like a clockwork. With extreme precision, engineers and workers placed and connected the cabling to the computer terminals and AMC's, turned the dials and pressed the buttons in sequence. No unnecessary delays, no mistakes, nobody ever tripping despite the cloud being fully covered with unsecured cables – Sky High, being a warrior, would never admit it, but the calm, inner order in the sea of apparent chaos terrified him a little. He scowled and turned his head around, facing the griffon soldier. The midday sun, reflected from her composite armor and her PrecisionEqu KS-2 machine-gun blinded him for a moment. “Anything else, soldier?” He snapped. “Yes, sir. First, Celestia has moved her forces. Her pegasi forces from Northern Cloudsdale are en route. I've already notified High Command, as well as everybody else in the chain. You are the last pony to whom I'm reporting this.” Sky High sighed. “So they've finally decided to declare war... Anything else,?” He said, turning his head away from the weapon, towards the city. The deserted cloud-made buildings towered ominously over the ground far below. The usual inner warmth of the pegasi city was no more. What unnerved him the most was that the sounds of city were gone. No laughter, no cries, nothing – the lack of sound seeped through, reaching his ears despite the deafeningly loud swarm of workers below him. The tone of the griffon soldier changed suddenly. With a clear hesitation in her voice, saying each word like a grave offense, she continued, “Also, I've came here to relay that... Rainbow Dash reported that Southern Cloudsdale had been fully evacuated. Civilians have been moved to Las Pegasos.” Sky High pondered over the tone of her voice for a moment. “You... Have doubts, soldier?” He asked calmly and casually, throwing any mannerisms off the record and down the drain. “...It's her. Nobody trusts her. She was Celestia's slave, sir, a Bearer of Harmo-” “I understand,” he interrupted her, “But she agreed to help us in the case of a very unlikely war against Northern Cloudsdale. And even if, if she decides to play any tricks with us,” -- He pointed at a small wooden box with a button and an antenna, placed near the levitating figurines -- “, any high-ranking personnel can push the button, and her collar will detonate. Simple, isn't it?” The response didn't calm the griffon, the language of her body sending delicate, but clearly recognizable signs of hesitation. “I do understand, soldier, that Rainbow Dash is not really trusted here,” Sky High continued, “but do think of her as of free pony. She was a slave to Celestia once, and still is, but the Architects are in the process of giving her freedom. But, until it's all over, we do have to resort to such... drastic measure-” Sirens began wailing. The modulated, electronic cry sent chills down Sky High's spine. A surprisingly calm voice began speaking through the loudspeakers, “Warning, Celestia's forces approaching at two-seven-three northwest, eta five minutes, stand by.” The swarm stopped working and calmed down. Every single cable was connected in the nick of time, every sub-system of the white-dome weapon already online. A quiet hum of the machinery replaced the organic buzz of griffon and pegasi mass. Metallic cylinders in the distance hummed audibly louder than the rest of the machinery. A strong voice of somepony higher in the command than Sky High boomed through the loudspeakers, “Stand by for ARENAS weapon charge. Enemy on visual contact, firing solution plotted. Charge currently at ten percent, fire in three minutes.” Both Sky High and the griffon turned their heads. From far away, the primitive armor of their flying adversaries shone like stars on cloudless nights. The dots soon grew larger in quantity, at first no more than singular points of light, now started to cover a larger portion of the horizon. “Twenty percent,” a cold, mechanical voice said over the loudspeaker. The hum from the machinery got louder, but still not annoyingly so. “Sir... May I ask you something, off record?” the griffon said, eyeing the panels with dials and switches below her. With cold precision, pegasi danced around, pressing the buttons and dialing the knobs. Sky High nodded. The griffon started speaking, slowly and unsurely, waging every word. “I... I know, sir, that you will lead soldiers to battle in unlikely case this plan wouldn't succeed, but... It's wrong, sir. That machine will shred them from distance. They won't even stand any chance, they won't know what ever hit them. It's... simply wrong. That's not battle, that would be execution, sir.” The hum of the machinery shifted into a high-pitched whine. “Fifty percent,” the voice said. “And strangely enough, I do feel some pity for them,” Sky High answered, “But they willingly chose to stay enslaved. The Architects told them that they would be freed from their birthright, but they chose to remain loyal to Celestia. But you're right, it is quite... disgusting.” And with a half-choked laugh, he added, “But if that machine fails, you'll see a proper battle, soldier.” The griffon soldier felt relaxed when he unfixed his gaze from her, turning his blue eyes to the machinery. The high sun, reflecting in the white-painted dome, made him squint his eyes. Although the sound, the painful high-pitched whine, hurt his ears, the sight was truly unimaginable. Barely visible opalescent threads of raw magic swirled on the ARENAS's surface, forming straight, geometrical lines and circles. Single sparks of electricity discharged between the white plates the four-pony wide dome was made of. A strong, nauseating smell of ozone coming from the dome reached Sky High, making him cringe. “Sixty percent.” A strange sound, a mix of ruffling feathers and clinks of armor coming from next to him reached his ears, almost lost to the commotion. He turned his head back to the griffon soldier, who was fervently scratching her wings. Before he could ask, he felt a strange itch coming in from his wings, and what surprised him most, his hooves. “Seventy percent.” And the itch got even stronger. Suddenly the sound died. The whine slowed down quickly, turning back into hum, and ultimately, eerily tranquil silence. The luminescent lines and the circles on the dome vanished. The sirens wailed, sending out modulated impulses, two long beeps followed by two short ones. Sky High shivered the moment he realized the meaning of the sound. The voice, previously flat, now terrified boomed from the loudspeakers. “Warning, critical malfunction, uhm... Safety interrupts engaged. ARENAS has powered down, I repeat, ARENAS has powered down. Ambient Magic Collectors, banks one to seven, report power down due to... no ambient magic detected? What the buck...? Impossible! Check everything, now!” The swarm of workers again came to life. Pegasi and griffon ran around the superweapon and the power sources, looking in haste at every cable and connection. Eyes of the main engineers near the panels followed rapidly appearing lines of text displayed on amber-colored displays. Despite the chaos, Sky High's ears picked up a soft sound of something falling behind him. He turned his head to the table where he was planning the movements of 5th heavy aerial squadron in an 'unlikely' scenario of weapon's failure. Tactical figurines of pegasi and griffon no longer levitated above the map. They fell down, scattering themselves, unicorns, and earth ponies around. And the cloud rumbled. With a deafening crack of thunder, coming from every direction, the sky rippled. A jet-black shockwave shot across the heavens, veiling the sun and the sky behind impenetrable darkness. Sky High and the griffon soldier shook their heads, trying to make sense of the entire scene. Despite no sun, it was still as bright and clear as it was. The light came from nowhere and shone everywhere, basking Southern Cloudstale in alien, impossible sunlight. Sky High looked down, at the ground far below him. Alike Cloudsdale, Equestria's south-western coastline appeared in it's midday glory. Golden patches of farmland and the shimmering surface of a sea shone as always. As suddenly as it appeared, the smoke-like darkness dissipated, bringing back the sun and clear blue sky above them. Sky High looked around, unsure what to do and what orders to follow. The swarm below him was thrown into chaos. Some ponies and some griffon began screaming, some stood quiet, their faces frozen in expression of utter confusion. Before he could even utter a single word, he felt a strange sensation. He instinctively looked down at the cloud he stood on. Something was not right. He shuffled his hooves around and noticed he was sinking in the cloud. The usual cotton-like texture was giving up under his weight. And then it gave up. His mind did not realize what happened until after he passed through the cloud. His wings started beating aggressively, but they couldn't 'catch the wind', seemingly unable to fly. He heard screams, but his cold-blooded mind did not have time for such distractions. He focused, and fully straightened his wings at the right moment, attempting to enter an earthbound glide. Success. Having a straight, calculable, but violent downwards trajectory helped him focus on what was going on, on the terrible cries surrounding him, begging for help, and screams of minds petrified from sheer terror. He noticed his brethren falling down around him. Pegasi fluttered around in vain, attempting to do something he already managed to pull off, or trying to fly, still ignorant to the fact their wings appeared too weak and too small for such a task. Griffons fared better, their larger wingspan allowing some of them to maintain a stabilized glide. He noticed the griffon soldier with whom he was talking just moments ago pass him above, her body in a rapid downfall. The moment she noticed him, she attempted to reach Sky, but instead she spiraled out of control, falling somewhere far away. More screams. He noticed a truss-column of the weapon pass near him, smashing the head of a white pegasi engineer, sending blood everywhere around, the liquid forming blood-red raindrops. Everybody fought, engaged in a futile battle against gravity. Wingbeat after wingbeat, his attempts to regain control failed. Falling heads-down, he saw shimmering surface of a sea coming closer and closer. He tried to think, but only a swarm of unorganized thoughts crossed his mind. Thoughts about his life sped before his eyes like in a slideshow, but two memories stood out. The photo he saw in a newspaper a few years ago, the ponies that called themselves Architects standing next to smiling Celestia in Canterlot, together promising better future for everypony. He tried to dismiss the promise that led him down the path with a fresher memory from a few months back, one of the Architects speaking to him in private, exposing Celestia's lies and hidden truths about the world, the meeting prompting him to stand by the Architects and fight in a rebellion against Celestia's iron-grip on Equestria. Last moment in the air, just before his body slammed into the water, he spoke one last question that nopony would ever hear.“Were... the architects... wrong?”