//------------------------------//
// TMP #527: History's Greatest Monster 
// Story: Pearple Juice With Bits 
// by Pearple Prose 
//------------------------------//

“Who is that?” 

The pegasus didn’t bother to look for who had said that. She simply stared straight ahead, armour clanking with every hoofstep. Behind her, she could hear the rest of the procession, perfectly synchronised, weapons polished and sharpened, and their helmets freshly plumed. It was a good day, a fine day; snow was only just beginning to fall, and the cold had yet to set in. Trumpets blared, war drums roared, and Cloudsdale was alive with patriotism.

“That’s the General.”

“Huh… Wait, you mean—”

“Yes. The victor of the Battle of Trottingham.”

Ah, yes. The General remembered that victory fondly. The stormclouds of the Lightning Brigade, raining bolts of energy down upon their foes. The clash of sword and wing, the sounds of screams of terror, the feeling of the warm, wet blood as it splashed across her—

The General shook away the nostalgia. There were more important events at hand.

“I heard that she was born blind from birth and finds her enemies by smelling their fear.”

There was a ripple of unease through the crowd. The General smiled crookedly.

“Don’t be stupid. She’s only blind in one eye, and only because she… Well, apparently she headbutted a unicorn once.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because it ‘wouldn’t look at her funny’.”

It was true. The General would have done it again, too, if she hadn’t needed her other eye to see where she was going. 

Up ahead, the General could see a tall, majestic, indigo pony. Atop her head was a crown of onyx, and her shoes were gilded silver. For the first time in years, she felt genuine anxiety; what if she made a fool of herself? What if the Princess was expecting something even greater?

“I heard that unicorns killed her family. I bet that’s why she’s so… Well, just look at her.”

“Do you know how she acquired her first kill? You see her sword?”

“Is that… ice?”

“Legend says that she came home one day, and found her family. Dead. She was so angry and grief-stricken that she sculpted a blade from a snowflake, then tracked down the unicorns and slaughtered them in their sleep.”

More memories flashed through her mind. The smell of fresh blood, spattered across the snow. The coldness of her weapon in her hooves. Oh yes, she had not forgotten. She would never forget that night.

Momentarily, she peeked out at the faces of the crowd. All of them stared up at her, looks of awe, terror, and pride upon their faces. The General relaxed, and regained her ferociously confident smile. Yes, she was a terror. She was a general.

She was worthy of the Princess’s attention. She knew it.

All too soon, the Princess of the Night stood before her. She looked down at the pegasus, eyes gleaming like the moonlight on shattered ice, and asked:

“What is thy name, servant?”

In the impossible silence, the pegasus took off her helmet, white locks of mane framing her scarred face, and answered:

“I am General Snowdrop, your Majesty.”