//------------------------------// // Interlude 5 // Story: The Lunar Rebellion // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// One of the inevitable problems of trying to build the narrative of an entire war from a single pony’s account is that there will inevitably be certain key events that the subject simply wasn’t present for. While Shadow’s indecisive duel with Lance Charger would ultimately have broader implications for the war, one key event in the battle she left behind was even more important. Sadly, finding a personal account of the battle in question has proven rather difficult for reasons that will eventually become rather apparent. Once again I must thank Princess Twilight Sparkle for everything she’s done to help with this project, as the document I needed for this was part of the Sparkle family’s personal archives. Unsurprisingly, given their house’s origins in the Rebellion, the Sparkles have one of the larger private collections of material regarding the war. The following account was taken from the war journal of Sir Radiant Day of the Order of Sol Invictus. I have had to take a few minor creative liberties with the journal, as its base account was a bit bare-bones, but I haven’t significantly altered the flow of events. The raid ‘pon the enemy supply camp began with a most unexpected and unwelcome development for me. Though I had by fortunate coincidence been assigned to the chariot managed by the lovely young Nimbus Kicker, I had a most unwelcome passenger. (1) I turned to my younger sister and squire. “White Knight, why art thou here? Did I not make it plain that thou wert to remain with the main army?” 1: It is quite possible this was not a coincidence at all. Though modern military doctrine frowns on placing lovers too close to one another on the battlefield, as it can easily compromise a pony’s judgment, several older Pegasopolan writers advised doing the opposite on the theory that ponies would fight harder and without any fear of death or injury when within sight of their loved ones. My sister answered me with a shrug. “I think there was some confusion regarding your orders, brother. Grandmaster Crossguard informed me that a squire’s place in battle was at their master’s side, and I could hardly gainsay him.” White looked at me, and a faint knowing smirk crossed her lips. “Though I will note that I have been here since before we left the ground, and you have only now taken note of my presence. I daresay you were too distracted; could it be that you were too busy watching the mare carrying our chariot to even notice me?” “That is untrue,” I instantly responded. Her grin widened. “Then 'tis pure coincidence that you are in a position to admire the backside of a mare whom all can see you find comely? The same mare you follow about like a lost puppy whene’er she visits our compound—which I will note she does rather often for a mare with no formal ties to our order.” Blessed sun preserve me from the endless trials of being my sister’s keeper. I dearly hoped that the exertions of bearing our chariot were such that Nimbus was unable to attend the details of our conversation, given the subject matter. “When I was a squire, I respected my master,” I groused. “If I failed to do so, then he surely would have given me cause to regret it.” In truth, I suspect old Sir Shield would find my current tribulations most amusing and gladly tell my sister of the difficulties I had caused him. “I respect you, brother,” she countered. “Honesty is an important aspect of showing respect.” She turned to me, her face the very picture of innocence. “Tell me, brother, did your master also spend his time ogling comely mares?” I mustered all the quiet dignity I could. “A gentlecolt does not ogle.” White’s scepticism was plain to see. “Then that leaves one of two possibilities. Either you are not a gentlecolt, or I have badly misinterpreted the situation.” “Obviously 'tis the second,” I primly informed her. “Obviously,” she agreed, a faint smile tugging at her lips once again. “That being the case, I will make a point of telling Lieutenant Nimbus that you do not find her comely. ‘Twould not do to have her labor under false pretenses on the eve of a battle.” “Thou shalt do no such thing,” I all but snapped at her. White answered me with a single raised eyebrow. “I see no reason to become so upset, brother. I was merely attempting to render you aid by resolving a potential misunderstanding. May I inquire as to the reasoning behind this order?” The Light truly cursed me on the day it gave my sister her talents and chose investigation. None of my secrets have been safe from her since. I fell back on the oldest answer of those in authority. “Because I have ordered it. 'Tis an order from thy master and elder, and 'tis not thy place to question it.” White rolled her eyes, no doubt commenting ‘pon my inadequacies as an elder brother within the privacy of her own mind. “Very well then, brother. If you are to use your rank as a club, then I shall obey.” We continued on in silence for a time, my sister falling silent as the battlefield approached. I was briefly distracted by the sight of the rogue elements of the Kicker clan fleeing the field ere my attention turned once more to White. I noted that she had begun fidgeting about nervously, checking and rechecking both her weapons and armor. I guessed at the cause of her distress and lay a hoof on her shoulder. “Courage, sister.” White’s voice dropped to a low murmur. “I confess I am ... somewhat nervous, brother.” “All knights are, on the eve of battle,” I assured her. “Stay near my side, and I promise that no harm will come to thee.” White offered a shaky nod, but then shook her head a moment later. “Neigh, brother. ‘Tis not my own life for which I fear. Well, ‘twould be untrue to say that I have no fear for it, but ‘tis not the principal source of my disquiet. I have never killed before. I am worried that I will not do my duty when the time comes.” I gave her shoulder a quick reassuring squeeze. “Do not allow thy thoughts to linger on it, sister. 'Twill only give doubt and fear more time to take a hold 'pon thee.” White’s gaze dropped to the floor of our chariot. “I do not wish to disgrace our house and order.” “Thou shalt not,” I assured her. “I know this in my heart.” My sister answered me with a nervous smile. “My thanks for your kind words, brother.” She made one final inspection of her fire gem and the rest of her wargear, then gave a satisfied nod and settled. “I will follow my orders as best I can.” “I never doubted that, or thee.” There was no time for more words ere battle was joined. (2) 2: At this point there is a gap in the narrative regarding the battle’s early stages. It’s one of the problems of using a war journal over proper memoirs: it’s not a full account so much as a collection of detailed notes, and like most notes only the key points are included. Sadly, I couldn’t find a way to include the rather flattering sketch he made of Nimbus Kicker. During the battle’s course, I remained near Nimbus’ side lest we have need to take to the air again. I also met with Daylight swiftly enough. White, Nimbus, and I were largely content to remain by his side, supporting and defending him whilst he set fire to the enemy’s supplies. Though Daylight Shimmer was not possessed of the same range of pyromancy as the infamous Sunbeam Sparkle, he was still a most potent caster. His skill with fire naturally inclined some to think he might be her bastard, though I judged it unlikely—Grand Vizier Sparkle had not hesitated to embrace her bastard daughter Midnight. We had been at our work for some time when Nimbus let out a warning cry. “Above! Look to the skies!” I turned my eyes upwards and saw a mass of rebel pegasi charging for our position. I should have guessed at the risk sooner: Daylight was one of the few full pyromancers in the field, and as such an obvious target for the enemy. Fire gems and torches might start fires passably enough, but a true pyromancer could unleash hotter flames o’er a far wider area. As the enemy neared, White and I both set our halberds to receive their charge while Daylight armed himself with a flaming blade. Nimbus prepared to launch herself into the air to meet the enemy as well. However, ere the enemy met us, something most unexpected occurred. I heard a cry from Lady Gale Kicker, and a small force of Kickers emerged from behind several nearby wagons to take the rebels in the flank. I needed a moment to grasp precisely what had happened, but once I did, I confessed myself impressed. ‘Twould seem that Lady Gale had grasped that Daylight would draw the attention of the enemy, and used him as bait to draw an attack into an ambush point. Her force did not have the numbers to crush the rebels, but she did break the charge and drop a few of their number to the ground. I closed on one pegasus who had fallen near us, intending to make a prisoner of him. An older stallion, though not so old as to have no place on the battlefield, and something about his appearance struck me as familiar. Aside from a wing that looked to have been fouled by an unusual sort of throwing spike, he seemed quite capable of fighting. His olive green armor marked him a member of the Doo clan, and ‘twas finely made to the point where I judged him a pony of some importance. I leveled my halberd at him. “Hold! Lay down your weapons and you will not be harmed!” The pegasus stallion turned to me, and with a casual wave of his short spear knocked my halberd aside. “Didst thou ask me to surrender? I think not.” He spun his spear about into a ready stance. “I will offer thee the same opportunity. Surrender, or withdraw without loss of honor.” “Surrender?” I glanced to the side and was pleased to see that Nimbus and Daylight were already moving to guard my flanks and surround the rebel. White remained somewhat behind me, watching my back for any new enemy who might spring upon us. “With all respect, rebel, why would we surrender or flee when the advantage is ours?” “‘Twould appear thou dost hold the advantage, aye,” the rebel conceded. “However, appearances can be deceiving.” His eyes passed over the three of us, as well as my sister. “Is it to be three or four against one, then? Hardly equitable numbers. I request single combat.” A far from unusual request, but one I was disinclined to acquiesce to even though ‘twas plain enough that he was a stallion of rank. “I hold the advantage of numbers and position. With respect, sir, were our positions reversed, would you grant me single combat?” The rebel was silent for long enough to betray his answer e’en before he spoke the words. “Neigh, I would not unless thou wert of sufficient rank to merit such an honor. And only three ponies ‘mongst Celestia’s servants might merit such. Thou art none of them.” His statement struck me as curious, but Daylight was faster to grasp the meaning that I. “You are Rightly Doo, the leader of the rebellion.” Nimbus turned to both of us in turn, a confused frown on her face. “Thou didst not know him?” “Those of us who only briefly visited Cloudsdale more than a month ago did not memorize the name and appearance of every single pegasus we encountered.” He frowned at our opponent, then inclined his head. “Ephor, it will be an honor to capture you.” A faint smile flitted across Ephor Doo’s face. “Ah, the arrogance of youth. Do not be so quick to declare me captured ere battle is e’en joined. Though I do not have Bright’s grand reputation in personal combat, thou shalt not find me an easy foe.” “We shall see soon enough, sir.” Though he was the enemy, I would afford him the respect due to his station. In truth, had he named his rank ere he requested single combat I might have been tempted to grant it—though I suspect I would have to do so over some objections. If we could take the leader of the rebellion now, many lives might be saved. I was well within my rights to refuse him single combat, and given the stakes e’en Grandmaster Crossguard would find no fault in putting the needs of the war o’er showing respect to the pony who had ignited the conflict. “Given the gravity of the matter at hoof, sir,” I began, “I believe honor demands that I use any and all decent means at my disposal to defeat and capture you.” I glanced back to my sister. “White, stand back from the battle and ensure we are undisturbed. This fight may well be beyond thy skills.” Rightly offered a slight nod as my sister fell back. “My thanks for that; I would take no pleasure in fighting a child, squire or no.” He shifted his position, trying to keep a wary eye on myself and both my allies. His eyes lingered on fair Nimbus. “I have no desire to fight a fellow pegasus, especially one of Shadow’s kin. I bid thee, stand aside.” “I will not,” Nimbus stood firm, meeting his eyes. “I follow my materfamilias, and she has judged you an enemy of Equestria.” Her gaze turned to me, and I noted a gentleness in her eyes. “And these ponies are my friends and allies. I would not betray them for your sake.” “So be it.” Rightly answered grimly, bringing his weapon up for a quick salute ere he returned it to the ready. “‘Tis to be a battle of three ‘gainst one, then? Then I shall fight thrice as well as any of thee!” Ephor Doo went on the offensive, directing his attack at the greatest threat, Daylight. The magus lashed out with his flaming blade, but the ephor caught it on the shaft of his spear. As the flames dispersed, I noted a thick band of cold iron worked along the spear’s shaft, presumably for exactly that purpose. The block brought his spear out of position for a thrust, but he struck Daylight across the horn with the weapon’s weighted butt, dropping the mage. I could hardly allow the rebel to strike at my friend without extracting some recompense for the blow. By charging Daylight, Ephor Doo had exposed his right flank to me. I closed and attempted a hack at his rear leg with my halberd, but he must have either seen or foreseen my attack, and quickly stepped inside it, robbing my strike of its strength as my halberd’s shaft slapped ‘gainst his leg. However, in doing that he had committed an error, though a minor one. In my training with Lady Shadow’s pegasi, I had noted that many of them were caught unawares by tripping techniques. ‘Twas no surprise that hoofwork was often a somewhat neglected discipline amongst warriors who almost always preferred aerial combat. That is not to say that the ephor’s hoofwork was that of an amateur, but ‘twas less honed than the rest of his skills. And I hazard he had ne’er faced this particular technique before. Though he had closed past my halberd’s range for a proper strike, his hind leg now stood ‘tween myself and my weapon’s head. In many circumstances, ‘twould have been a disarming move. ‘Gainst a halberdier, it left him terribly vulnerable. I recovered my weapon, and as I pulled it towards myself, hooked the dull back curve of the axe-head ‘round his leg, pulling him badly off balance. ‘Twas only a momentary weakness, but one Nimbus was quick to exploit. She darted a short distance o’er Rightly, so near to me that I felt the wind of her passage. In her wake, I noted a deep cut on the wing that had not been fouled by the throwing spike. She had denied him the possibility of retreat or escape, and kept the battle where we held the greatest advantage. Rightly staggered from the blow, whirling his spear defensively as he shifted position to keep myself and Nimbus in clear sight, as well as move away from Daylight. Though the magus had not yet recovered from the sharp blow Rightly had delivered to his temple, ‘twould not be wise to be so near him when Daylight recovered. E’en if he were in no condition to spellcast, Daylight was a capable physical fighter by virtue of his training in the Order. “A pincer movement?” I murmured to Nimbus, hoping the words might not carry to Rightly. “He cannot defend front and back at once.” She answered with a slight shake of her head and equally hushed tones. “He will expect it. ‘Twould be best if we could somehow take him unawares.” “Agreed.” I thought on the matter and quickly hit upon a solution. The previous exchange led me to believe that the ephor had no experience in fighting a halberdier, and thus I might well succeed in taking him by surprise with a well-timed maneuver. The halberd’s versatility is one of its greatest assets, and the reason why ‘tis my preferred weapon. “Flank with me.” I approached from the front, thrusting with my halberd several times to gauge his reaction time. He dodged and deflected the attacks easily enough, sliding back and to the side to prevent Nimbus from moving behind him. However, his withdrawal gradually forced him back towards a cluster of burning wagons, until he could no longer back away. He spread his wings to escape the trap, but after a single flap he winced and pressed them back ‘gainst his sides. ‘Twould seem Nimbus’ strike had succeeded in grounding him for the moment. His brief attempt at flight had left him somewhat off balance, and I quickly moved to exploit it with a heavy overhead chop. Rightly could not dodge it without placing himself in the fire or exposing himself to a strike from Nimbus, and so he brought up his spear to block with the shaft instead. As the blade would have split his spear’s shaft in two, he once more had to step within my reach, this time to block shaft to shaft. As before, I drew my halberd in, this time hoping to hook his weapon and tear it out of his grasp. However, ‘twould seem I had underestimated the ephor, for he turned his spear so that the cold iron band pressed ‘gainst my weapon. Though a small bit of cold iron was not enough to wholly disrupt my magical grasp on my weapon, it did rob a portion of my strength from the pull. Enough to keep me from disarming him. Rightly closed further, slamming a hoof into the hollow ‘tween my ribs and throat. I staggered back, and the ephor pulled his spear free, then swept my forelegs out from beneath me using the weighted butt end of his spear. A moment later his shoulder slammed ‘gainst mine, bodily o’erturning me. However, in committing himself to the attack ‘gainst me, Rightly was forced to take his eyes off Nimbus, and she was quick to use that. A quickness which I was gratified to note redoubled when she saw my own distress. Ere the ephor could bring his spear to bear to finish me, Nimbus barreled into his back, knocking his spear out of his grasp. Catching him unawares she was quick to lock a foreleg around his neck, attempting to subdue him with a quick chokehold. He attempted to bring up his forelegs to break the hold, but Nimbus’ blades lashed out once more and inflicted several minor wounds on his forelegs, driving his hooves off. Though she secured her hold, the rebel ephor was naturally disinclined to allow himself to be disabled. His head snapped back, the crest of his helm meeting Nimbus’ muzzle with an audible crunch. Blood gushed out, and a moment later she spat out a broken tooth. Her grip did not waver with the first strike, but when he followed it with another, her hooves slackened enough to allow him to free his head. He followed his escape by lashing out with one of his hind legs, catching her in the gut. Whilst she tried to recover her breath, he quickly reversed himself and threw his shoulder into the mare, sending her stumbling into me. I had only begun to recover my hooves, and the collision with Nimbus cause the two of us to fall against one another in a wild tangle of limbs. With all three of his opponents temporarily downed, Rightly Doo might well have made good his escape were it not for my sister. White Knight strode forward to bar his way, her own halberd held at the ready. “Halt!” Though there was a tremble in both her voice and her weapon, she stood her ground. The rebel leader recovered his spear, then turned to my sister with a frown. “Stand aside, young lady. I do not fight children.” White remained still save for further trembling, and the rebel ephor began to move past her, clearly believing she was no threat. As he passed by her, White answered him with a sideways swing of her halberd, taking the ephor by surprise with her sudden daring. He moved his spear to block the blow, but his moment of hesitation cost him, and his spear’s shaft only caught the top spike of her halberd. Though it robbed her blow of some of its momentum, the halberd’s blade still struck his flanchard with an audible crunch, and the ephor let out a pained grunt. “I am no child!” my sister declared, pulling her halberd back into a ready position. “I am a warrior in the Order of Sol Invictus, and I will face you in battle, rebel and false commander!” “I see.” Ephor Doo faced her squarely and offered her a respectful nod. “So be it, then.” As I scrambled to free myself from my entanglement with Nimbus and regain my hooves, he advanced on her, thrusting repeatedly with his spear. White blocked as best she could, but she could not match his speed or skill, and within five moves he had disarmed her and had his spear tip at her throat. “Valiantly done, child.” He pulled his weapon back. “Go home and live out this war. Enough will die without adding thee to their number.” White moved aside, not e’en recovering her fallen weapon. However, her swift defeat had still delayed Rightly Doo enough to allow me to extract myself from my difficult position with Nimbus, and I was further heartened to see Daylight rejoining the field. The Magus-Knight’s fiery weapons did not burn with their usual intensity, but they still seemed potent enough to trouble his foes. The ephor turned his attention to each of us in turn, a frown on his face. For all the skill he had shown in battle, the situation had not developed in his favor. The wounds he had taken bled freely, and though he had struck blows ‘gainst all of us, none were sufficient to remove us from battle or e’en seriously impede our ability to fight. Our course of action from this point forward was simple enough. “Wolfpack Confronts the Manticore.” Daylight knew the Order’s maneuvers by heart, and Nimbus had learned many of them in her time with me o’er the last several weeks. Wolfpack was one we frequently used against the larger, more dangerous foes we faced. Much like the image it evoked, it relied on several ponies surrounding a single enemy and striking in turn, none taking any needless risks or attempting a swift victory. A stream of minor wounds or the simple exertion of fighting multiple enemies would wear our opponent down until he was in no state to continue the battle. So matters proceeded with Rightly Doo. Daylight strode forward and slashed out with flaming blade, but e’en as Rightly blocked that blow I darted in at his flanks, jabbing the tip of my halberd into the meat of his thigh. I only managed a shallow wound ere Rightly whirled to face me, but e’en as I withdrew in the face of his counterstrike Nimbus advanced and scraped her blade along his flank armor. So matters continued for a full minute, as the rogue ephor’s strikes slowly lost momentum with each exertion and wound he suffered. Once ‘twas clear his strength was waning, I grew bold and attempted the very disarming maneuver he had turned against me earlier in the battle. However, this time he lacked the speed or skill to outmaneuver me, and I tore his weapon from his hooves, then put my halberd’s spike ‘gainst his throat. “‘Tis finished. You are beaten.” Rightly’s eyes fell to the weapon at his throat, and his wounded body slumped so heavily I withdrew lest I unmeaningly slay him. “So it is,” he conceded. “Finish it then. I do not fear death: ‘twould only send me to the side of my wife and child.” I stepped back, lest he attempt to open his throat ‘pon my weapon. Though slaying him would be a notable achievement in its own right, I would prefer to take him alive, that he might either be used as a symbol to demoralize the rebels or traded from some of the survivors of Polaris’ expedition. I judged him unlikely to cooperate with such a request, however. “Daylight? Canst thou…?” “Of course.” Daylight’s horn lit, and the rebel leader stumbled, struggling to stay on his hooves and keep his eyes open. Though sleep spells were no specialty of Daylight’s, the ephor’s mind was as weakened as his body by the battle’s exertions. ‘Twas not long ere he fell into an ensorcelled sleep. We had him. We had captured Rightly Doo. With that brief aside finished, I would now like to return to Dusk Charger and his account of the battle’s aftermath. “Be still, Lance,” Dawn chided. “I do not know how thou canst suffer such wounds unflinchingly on the battlefield, yet when the time comes for treatment thou becomest so ... difficult.” “I am not being difficult,” my elder sister insisted e’en as she pulled her muzzle free of Dawn’s grasp once more. “I simply do not enjoy being handled so roughly by my younger sister. Mother has obviously ne’er been treated by thee if she still proclaims thee a gentle soul.” She let out a snort, but winced as it sent air through her much-abused nose. “I am perfectly fine, sister. The wound will heal quickly enough without treatment, and there are many others whose need is greater than mine. It does not e’en pain me.” Dawn let forth an aggrieved sigh. “If thou art so concerned for my valuable time, sister, then perhaps thou couldst refrain from wasting it by acting as if thou wert the youngest of us. Verily, young Shield handles her treatment with greater dignity than thee.” I let out a snort at the thought of our youngest sibling, barely aged past the point of being a suckling babe, being Lance’s better. However, my mirth merely drew Dawn’s wrath upon me as well. “And you, brother. Cease thy chortling and aid me with our sister.” Lance turned upon me as well, seeking a fresh ally. “Aye, brother. Reason with our sister, so that I might have leave to heal my wounds in peace.” Thus did I find myself in a position almost no stallion would seek: trapped between two aggravated mares who both insisted that I take a side in their dispute. Neither answer would lead to a satisfactory result; I could mortally offend my older sister and commanding officer, or I could anger the mare who would tend my wounds after battle. Or I could suggest some manner of compromise, but I suspect that would merely anger the both of them equally. At least I could always flee Equestria. I suppose I could bring the matter to Mother for mediation, but that would likely only anger her as well. In my later years, ponies often asked how I became so skilled with mares. I would simply say that in my clanhold, learning to placate and charm mares with fiery passions and quick tempers was a necessary survival skill. I chose the best course I could see. “Sister, I am uncertain how it is honorable to cause needless troubles for our beloved junior sister and chirurgeon.” Lance’s eyes narrowed, and I had a grim premonition that I had just volunteered for several particularly unpleasant assignments that might await the hetairoi. However, Lance’s ire was as a gentle summer rain compared to Dawn’s when she was fully roused. And as importantly, Lance was usually quicker to forgive such minor transgressions. Dawn had a long memory, and lacked Lance’s freedom to unleash her anger by beating or slaying enemy soldiers. However, whate’er undeserved wrath she might visit ‘pon me in the future, for now Lance seemed content to abide by my decision. She submitted herself into Dawn’s care, and offered little in the way of protest at her treatment of the injuries sustained in the duel with Shadow Kicker. A duel I was quite certain had been interrupted by the lovely but underhoofed Gale Kicker. A pity matters had come to war, for I suspect I would have enjoyed paying court to her. If nothing else, checking all my food and drink for poisons and hidden razor blades would have proven a novel experience. Once the only matter Dawn had left unattended was Lance’s nose, she sighed and turned aside. “Fresh Bindings? I have need of thy skills.” One of our captured unicorn medics approached, and at Dawn’s direction employed his skills in tending to my sister’s damaged muzzle. “Thank you, Fresh.” “Of course, milady,” the unicorn answered deferentially. “I will be tending upon the other wounded, but call at once if you have need of me.” Lance massaged her straightened muzzle and glowered at the departing unicorn medic. “I am still unsure of the wisdom of allowing unicorns who were our enemies a few short days ago to treat our injured. It is unwise to trust any pony who is so quick to turn their coat.” “That is because the chirurgeon’s honor is different than the warrior’s, sister.” Dawn shook her head and sighed in resignation. “Whereas a warrior finds honor in the protection of clan and commander, the chirurgeon’s honor lies in the preservation of life. All life, regardless of whose colors they wear. On this day alone, I can name three of our number who would certainly have died were Fresh not present to aid me, and a dozen more who likely would have perished. And more could be saved, if our unicorn chirurgeons were not required to ply their arts under pegasus supervision.” “In a way, ‘tis no different than using a particularly fine weapon dropped by a fallen foe,” I opined. My gaze turned to the unicorn, already hard at work healing another pegasus. “Though I think mayhaps Dawn is a touch too quick to trust them. Chirurgeon’s honor or not, I would feel safer if any unicorn doctor tended my wounds with a pegasus blade resting near his neck. ‘Twould be far too easy to arrange for a seemingly minor wound to take a lethal infection.” Dawn was in the midst of preparing an answer—and by the frown gracing her face ‘twould not be one I enjoyed—when we were thankfully interrupted by Mother’s arrival. Mother strode to Lance’s side, though she spared approving smiles for myself and Dawn as she approached our elder sibling. “I have heard it said thou didst encounter Shadow on the field, and would have beaten her were juris not brought to a premature end. Is it so?” Lance answered with a single nod. “I think it likely I would have won, though battle is e’er uncertain.” Mother answered by wrapping a wing around her, pulling Lance close to nuzzle her. “First an archmagus, and now the arch-traitor. If thou dost continue to perform so admirably, I think ‘tis possible thou couldst earn a place in the Ephorate ere I e’en retire from it. ‘Tis a rare thing to seat two ponies from the same clan, but not unprecedented in the case of a mare of such singular skill.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Though I mean no disrespect to my esteemed colleague, ‘tis plain to see that restoring Cyclone has failed to preserve his clan. A blind ephor who would flee the field rather than stand and fight is a matter for consideration.” Lance’s eyes widened at the implication. “Mother, you are suggesting that such a thing could happen now? I had not thought to join the Ephorate for another decade!” “The needs of war can alter many plans,” Mother answered with a faint smile. “The remnants of the loyal Kickers cannot produce a worthy replacement for Cyclone should the need arise. Of the lesser clans there are some, but none who have distinguished themselves so much as to be a clear choice. And certainly none who have gained so much honor as thou hast, my child.” “I see.” There was a tension in my older sister’s stance, though Mother seemed blind to it. “If it is the Ephorate’s belief that I would best serve Pegasopolis and Equestria in that fashion, then I shall of course endeavour to fill that role to the best of my abilities.” “I ne’er doubted that, dear child.” Mother bestowed a single kiss ‘pon Lance’s forehead. “I am, and always will be, unbelievably proud of thee.” She turned from my sister to me and let forth a faint sigh. “Ah, Dusk. Why canst thou not live up to thy sister’s shining example?” Her smile and the mirth in her tone robbed the words of the bite some might have thought they carried. ‘Twas always Mother’s way to engage each of us in a manner suited to our personal eccentricities. “As always, it seems I am doomed to disappoint you, Mother.” I turned to her with a smile of my own. “Though in my defense, I will say that my position in the hetairoi has rather limited my opportunities. When my sister wins such honor and renown with every battle, there is little left for me to gain.” I turned to my elder sister. “Next time, pray leave an enemy of some worth standing on the field for me to defeat. ‘Twould be most appreciated. Surely thou couldst at least leave some opportunity to prove myself 'gainst some lowly squire or militia captain before thou dost pounce 'pon all our enemies. Otherwise Mother might think me lazy or incompetent and disown me.” “Oh, I am already quite certain thou art lazy,” Mother answered with an easy smile. “Thou needs not press thyself to disprove it.” “Ah, such cruel words from mine own dear mother cut me to the quick.” I put a hoof o’er my heart and swooned dramatically. “And after all the love and affection I have heaped ‘pon her o’er all the years of my life...” “Alas for my poor unloved and neglected son, then.” Mother stepped forward and kissed me just as she had Lance. “Perhaps some day thy skill at combating the enemy will equal thy skill at chasing after the opportunity to bed a comely mare.” I smirked. “Obviously, Mother, the solution would be to send me to a battlefront where the enemy consists entirely of beautiful mares. I would have them all defecting to our cause inside a fortnight.” Dawn grinned and pressed a hoof to my forehead. “Ah, ‘tis as I feared.” She sighed and mournfully shook her head. “The fever has at last reached his brain, and now his head is so badly swollen that he thinks himself a great lover when I know for a fact he has yet to bed a mare.” “Dawn!” I wailed, understandably distressed. “That was told in strictest confidence!” As I said before, when Dawn is of a mind to inflict suffering ‘pon me she can be most fearsome. Mother and my sisters shared a laugh at my expense, and Mother turned to Dawn, speaking of her medical works. However, my attention was quickly torn from the two of them as I noted Lance making a hasty exit from the room. ‘Twas strange to see her leaving so quickly, especially when Mother was still present. Though she had already shared her words with Lance, ‘twas customary for us all to attend her when she was present. I followed after my sister, noting that she moved with some haste through our camp. She quickly took to the sky, and I wondered if I would be forced to follow her all the way Cloudsdale. Though the city moved on Canterlot, ‘twas still a good hour’s flight distant from our frontline groundside camp. Despite the Ephorate’s preference for a cloudside base of operations, ‘twas plain that the needs of our earth pony allies and unicorn servitors required a ground camp. Thankfully, my sister instead halted on an isolated cloud far from any other ponies. Once ‘twas plain she would not be leaving this location shortly, I landed next to her. I was taken aback by the state I found her in. Gone was the mare who was the very pinnacle of Pegasopolan honor and courage, and in her place was a wild-eyed pony gasping for breath whilst her eyes darted about wildly. I knew the expression, but I could scarcely believe that my sister was in a state of panic. She had faced archmagi and a rogue ephor without hesitation, yet now her courage faltered when the enemy was far from us? Neigh, it could not be. Clearly, I was mistaken. I carefully approached my sister and put a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “Lance. Sister, does something trouble you?” Lance turned to me, and she visibly attempted to still her breathing. However, one cannot go from fraught with emotion to stoic calm at a moment’s notice, and her distress remained plain. “‘Tis ... I am somewhat o'erwhelmed, brother.” I did as any sibling would, ‘pon seeing my sister’s distress. “I am here, Lance.” I drew her into a gentle embrace. “Take a moment to gather thyself, all is well.” My sister closed her eyes and drew in several deep breaths, slowly regaining the calm I normally saw from her. “I apologize for being witnessed in such an unbecoming state.” “Neigh, do not apologize.” I tried to make a passable imitation of the gentle, encouraging smiles Mother would offer whene’er one of us was in distress. “I would be a poor brother indeed if I were not here for my sister in her time of need. We all have our moments of distress, and I will help thee through this one with utmost discretion.” “I thank thee for it.” Lance was briefly silent, then let forth a heavy sigh. “I confess, Mother's ambitions for me are ... most ambitious.” My sister does have her own way with words. “Ah, so that is the issue at hoof?” I settled onto the cloud, remaining supportively against my sister’s side. “Mother has always pushed us to meet her expectations, has she not? And none are pushed harder than thee.” “That she has,” Lance agreed. “Normally I welcome her driving force, but...” She hesitated, worrying at her lower lip. “The victories I have gained in recent days do not fill me with martial pride. Something is amiss with me, brother.” I frowned at that, wondering what she could mean. “Amiss? Pray, explain. Surely thou didst not gain these triumphs through dishonest means.” My sister would die ere she won unfairly. A weakness some of her foes, like Shadow, did not share. I prayed that did not prove her undoing. Lance hesitated, waving a hoof uncertainty in the air. “I am ... I have always shared the strength and endurance of our mother, but of late I am far stronger than I have e’er been. And in my battle with the lightning archmagus, didst thou not observe that I resisted his spells?” In truth, if my sister were stronger than the norm I doubt I would have realized it. For as long as I could remember, Lance had been my strong, fearless older sister. Even once I had grown taller than her, I had ne’er doubted that she could handily defeat me e’en with her wings bound. That she could perform acts beyond the might of any other was simply ... expected. “Thou wouldst not be beaten by some pampered unicorn mage. Further, I had thought thine armor protected thee, and that the magus was holding back his full strength in hopes of taking thee alive, or else was tired from his earlier exertions.” Lance sighed and shook her head. “Neigh, 'twas more than a few pieces of cold iron or my own martial skill. I ... when his spell struck I focused myself ‘pon resisting it with all my might. I turned the full of my will 'gainst his magics, and as I did so could feel the very fabric of it unravelling.” That was ... unexpected. I tried to think of something equivalent to what Lance claimed. “I have heard such can be done from some of the loyal Kickers with experience in fighting warlocks. Thou dost recall how we learned to resist unicorn telekinesis? Perhaps ‘tis simply an extension of that.” Lance frowned and shook her head. “There is a great difference ‘tween resisting a simple spell a mere filly could cast and standing ‘gainst  archmagi wielding their chosen elements. When I saw Vizier Sparkle, I undid her spell ere it e'en reached me. That is a far cry removed from simply moving about to break a magical grasp.” A far cry indeed. I could scarcely credit the tale, though my sister was no liar. “That does sound most unusual. I admit, I do not readily have an answer for how such a thing could occur.” I felt a tremble pass through Lance’s body. “I can feel something within me changing. I cannot account for what that change might be, but my heart tells me ‘twill be like nothing I have e’er experienced.” She sighed and shook her head. “And now Mother dreams of seating me at the Ephorate as well? 'Tis more than I am ready to face.” I placed a supportive hoof on her shoulder. “If thou art o’erwhelmed by thy troubles, let us address one thing at a time. If we contend with all the problems of the world at once, surely we shall be overwhelmed, but we can handle any one of them if we sit down and think.” My sister took a deep breath to gather herself, and nodded. “Aye, 'tis so.” E’en when panic nearly took her, Lance was quick to recover and show her strength of character. Small surprise I thought so highly of her. “Then let us begin with what Mother has planned for thee.” I let out a soft chuckle and shared a private smile with my sister. “We have much experience with satisfying Mother’s grand designs for her children, do we not? And surely a seat in the Ephorate cannot be worse than Mother’s hopes that I might court a mare who would kill me if she could do so freely.” Lance responded by rolling her eyes. “If she despised thee so, ‘twas clearly no fault of Mother’s, but merely a result of thine own actions.” After her jest was delivered, however, she regarded me for a time, a faint smile on her face. “Still, there is merit in what thou dost say. When didst thou become so wise, little brother?” “I have always been wise,” I answered with a confident grin. “‘Tis simply that nopony has been wise enough to properly appreciate my wisdom.” That drew an amused snort from her. “Dawn was right, thou dost speak madness from thy swelled head.” I placed a hoof o’er my grievously wounded heart. “Such cruel words from my darling sister. Surely I am an accursed sage, doomed to never be believed no matter how great the wisdom I share may be.” “If ‘tis a curse, then ‘tis one thou dost bear quite well, my foolish brother.” Lance smiled and wrapped a wing ‘round me, pulling me closer. “Such sympathy and affection,” I groused good-naturedly, before returning my attention to the matter at hoof. “As for thy potential promotion, Pegasopolis likely needs at least one, if not two more newly minted ephors to lead our armies.” Lance considered the matter and reluctantly nodded. “Ephor Swift Blade is in no position to command a wing of the army whilst he is so far from the front, and Ephor Cyclone Kicker's post is one he was granted for reasons other than his ability to command an army in the field.” “'Tis so.” My thoughts turned to my distant sire. “Though I am loathe to speak ‘gainst Ephor Striker, he is not a young stallion. And I am sure thou hast noticed how many burdens Commander Rightly has set 'pon his shoulders during this campaign.” “Aye, war is not a task for an aging pony,” Lance reluctantly agreed. “There had been talk he might retire to the Gerousia ere the current crisis began. Were it not for the unfortunate events within his clanhold that cost him both his heirs...” Lance trailed off and slowly shook her head. “War has not come 'pon us in ideal circumstances.” The matter of Steel’s losses was a painful one, and difficult for me as well. Though he was naught but my sire, there were times I had wondered if mayhaps I should offer some portion of my time to him. Though I do not know whether ‘twould help lessen his pain, or merely remind him of his loss. Rather than dwell on it, I turned my mind to the second half of Lance’s statement. “War rarely waits for when we would prefer it, based on all that I have read. Pegasopolis seemes lacking in ideal replacements for our best leaders.” “So it seems.” Lance fell silent, one hoof idly toying with the cloud beneath us. “I am unsure that I am ready for the position Mother aspires to grant me.” Personally, I thought that Lance did herself too little credit. However, it may be that I was inclined to think too highly of my sister. Regardless, I doubt she would be calmed by simple assurances. “Mayhaps thou couldst request a less demanding position instead? ‘Twas often said that there were captains of the hetairoi who were all but a sixth ephor in terms of power and influence. I see no reason thou couldst not ask that Commander Rightly assign more responsibility to thee to help prepare thee for some greater role in the future.” Lance considered my words and nodded. “There is much merit to thy suggestion. ‘Twould allow me a chance to adjust to bearing greater responsibility without being thrust fully into a new post.” “'Twould also relieve some of the burdens on the ephors,” I suggested. “War has made many demands of them, and I am sure they would welcome any aid thou couldst offer. I think that is a compromise thou couldst suggest that would satisfy Mother’s ambition without placing too many new responsibilities ‘pon thee. If need be, thou couldst also argue that such an increase in responsibility would be more readily accepted by the army and Rightly, and be a good stepping stone to being an ephor once the war is over. As she said, ‘tis unusual for one clan to hold two ephors.” “Aye.” Lance brought a hoof up to ruffle my mane. “Truly, thy wisdom in this matter has surprised me. Perhaps we give thee too little credit.” “I present thee with the solution to thy troubles, and all I am told is ‘perhaps’ I am wise?” I grinned and bumped her shoulder. “'Tis easy to say I deserve more credit when, alas, I am given no credit at all. I am afraid I am treated as but the younger, less talented brother which nopony expects to e’er meet the high standard set by his elder sister.” “That is not so,” my sister answered. “Thou hast thine own merits, and in constantly comparing thyself to me thou dost thyself a disservice. Do not seek to emulate my merits to the point of ignoring thine.” She paused, and her voice turned light and mocking. “Though if thou wouldst be treated more seriously, perhaps thou couldst conduct thyself accordingly. The jester will always be seen as a fool.” I gaped and slapped a hoof ‘gainst my cheek, as though I could scarcely comprehend such shocking words. “But sister! Didst thou not just say that I should embrace mine own merits? And how else could I show my gifts to all the fair mares of Pegasopolis and beyond?” Lance answered me by rolling her eyes once more. “Egotist. Mind thy rear.” Despite the forewarning, I was unable to dodge when her wing lightly cuffed the back of my head. Though the blow was not especially painful, I let out a cry as if she had all but split my skull open. “Ow!” I rubbed my poor, abused head. “Thou dost inflict such cruelties, dear sister. Careful, lest I grow resentful and plot a coup 'gainst thee.” Lance turned to inspect my head, concern tingeing her voice. “Have I struck thee too hard? I have noticed that I am stronger than I once was, and there have been a few minor ... incidents.” Her concern surprised me, and moreso the implication that her newfound strength had unsettled her so. “Neigh, neigh, 'tis fine. I merely jest with my beloved sister. 'Tis all.” That Lance believed her control over her own strength was so poor that she feared unintentionally wounding me with a simple cuff to the head was troubling. A warrior of Pegasopolis is expected to discipline both mind and body in order to have perfect control o’er both. A warrior of Lance’s quality would not find her control so badly lacking unless something were terribly wrong. “I believe we should address the matter of thy changes then, if thy concern if so great.” Lance sighed and agreed with a reluctant nod. “Aye, that we should. ‘Tis most disconcerting to be so ill at ease with mine own body. Since the battle with Copper Spark, I have felt a stranger in mine own flesh. I do not care for it. And the things I have done when faced with hostile magic are ... most unsettling.” Troubling words, but I had little idea of how the issue might be addressed. “Normally I think I would recommend perhaps seeing the magi, given that at least some of thy problems involve their magics. 'Tis also said that some of their individual collections contain more knowledge than all of that in Pegasopolis, though I am skeptical of that claim.” (3) I waved the matter aside. “Though we are rather busy slaying them all at the moment, so...” 3: In all likelihood, there was some truth to the claim. The previously mentioned problems involved with storing books in cloud-homes inevitably meant that Unicornia had access to far more written knowledge than Pegasopolis. Especially since the relative rarity of books in Pegasopolis meant that what books there were tended to be tightly focused on areas of broad interest to all pegasi: weather and military manuals, works of the great philosophers, and texts on all manner of non-pony creatures both intelligent and bestial. Lance considered my words and tapped a hoof to her chin. “I shall ask Dawn and one of her new pet unicorns to make a thorough inspection, then. Mayhaps I should have words with one of our captured magi as well?” “Thou didst capture Archmagus Copper Spark, and we hold Archmagus Ahfa Polaris as well.” Though the latter seemed to have been an archmagus more on account of her relation to the Duke of the same house than her skill with magic. “Though I would note that they are unlikely to be quite so eager to cooperate as the unicorn medics have proven.” “No harm could come of asking for an opinion, at the least.” Lance shrugged. “The worst he could do is refuse me, and I will have lost nothing beyond the time needed to ask the question.” “I trust thou wilt be appropriately wary of his advice,” I cautioned her. “'Twould surely be better than knowing nothing, but a pony who yet bears your battle wounds might be tempted to provide advice that would lead thee to harm.” “Fear not, dear brother; I will not play the part of gullible fool.” Lance paused, then drew me into a sisterly embrace. “I thank thee for thine advice, Dusk.” I answered her with an easy grin. “I have to serve some purpose in this war if thou wilt not allow me to  share in any of the glory.” I gave her a teasing poke in the shoulder. “After the quality of the advice I have given thee, I daresay thou couldst spare me a target of some renown.” I was much heartened by the genuine smile that now graced my sister’s lips. “If I find an opponent of worth who is equal to thy skills, I shall leave them to thee.” She paused and brought a thoughtful hoof to her chin. “Although I had given thought to the fact that if I am promoted the hetairoi will require a new...” She trailed off, her ears perking at some unknown sound. A few moments later, I heard it too. “Something is happening back at camp. Shall we?” My sister nodded, and the two of made for camp with all due haste. We arrived to find the camp in an uproar, though there was no obvious cause such as an attack by Celestia’s loyalists. A grim thought struck me, as I realized that Commander Rightly had not yet returned. ‘Twas hardly unusual for an army to be scattered for hours or e’en days after a major battle, so his absence had initially not been cause for great concern. However, given the current state of the camp... Lance seemed to have guessed at my fears, for she immediately took flight for the Ephorate’s tent. ‘Twould be a blow to her reputation and Mother’s ambitions if my fears proved true. ‘Twas not proper for the captain of the hetairoi to have returned safely to camp unaware that her Commander’s body lay cooling on the ground. We arrived at the tent to the sound of much shouting as dozens of ponies flooded it, each trying to make their concerns heard. My dread heightened when I noticed that a single unicorn wearing the livery of a messenger stood in the middle of the tent, while Commander Rightly was yet absent. Mother looked over the chaotic scene with boiling fury and was not long in unleashing it. “Enough! Be silent, all of you!” When they did not immediately comply, Mother cast a glance to Steel, and the Striker ephor slammed his hooves down on the wooden table hard enough to crack the wood. That sufficed. Mother then turned to the messenger, her tone now carefully controlled. “Return to the Queen of Unicornia and inform her that we will consider her offer to exchange Commander Rightly for the prisoners she has requested.” So that was it, then. He had indeed been taken. Lance’s face fell at the confirmation. ‘Twould seem my sister would not claim the title of ephor in the near future. As the three remaining members of the Ephorate conferred with one another, the crowd began to disperse. Hopefully the news that our Commander would shortly be returned to us would prevent the matter from having too great an impact on the soldiers’ morale. Such captures and exchanges were part of the natural ebb and flow of warfare. The departure of the crowd eventually allowed us to hear the last remark of the Ephorate, from Ephor Kicker. There was a grim resignation to his tone as he addressed Mother. “Bright, Steel, I apologize for my part in this affair. I shall make amends for it.” That said, he turned to the clanpony serving as his guide and was slowly led out of the tent. I watched his departure, frowning after him. “Though the clash of arms decided little, ‘twould seem we have suffered our first defeat of the war, sister.” “Aye,” she agreed. “But the war itself carries on.”