//------------------------------// // The Noise of Thunder // Story: The White Horse // by Carabas //------------------------------// In the quiet darkness of the ruined castle, the white unicorn waited. He looked into the murk of a rubble-cluttered fireplace, alone with his thoughts in what had once been this place's great hall. A heavy golden crown and a curving black bow rested on a table next to a lit candle; the only source of light against the heavy shadows all around. Rain whispered against the roof and outside the shattered windows. Thunder briefly pealed. It promised another stormy night. The latest of many. Some day there'd be quiet skies again, the unicorn thought. Some day. He turned away from the fireplace and towards the table. A pitcher of wine and several chipped cups were laid out, and he poured himself a measured portion. As he drank, he reached out for the crown and settled it down atop his indigo mane. He drained the cup, and as he did so, he saw the shadows around him shift. Sharp green light insinuated itself into the hues of the room, and the air pricked goosebumps from his hide. “Sombra,” said the unicorn, not turning. “I'm glad you could make it.” From the darkness at his back, a voice deeper than ocean trenches and colder than the drowned depths. “The pleasure is mine, Lord – my pardon, Prince Iridium. How could I refuse a meeting such as this?” Iridium stiffened slightly, and turned to face the fireplace again. A paranoid part of his magic itched to grasp his bow, and he suppressed it. No empty threats here. Let the golden crown on his head represent all the authority he needed. He gazed into the darkness, and it smirked back. Vivid, poison-green eyes met his own, topped by a curving crimson horn; both bright against Sombra's black hide. Green and purple motes shrouded his insubstantial and semi-transparent frame. Iridium didn't know what enchantment they represented, but he could all but taste the hungry, gnawing malice of its magic even from where he stood. “The other two have indicated they'll come,” said Iridium, pressing on. “They should arrive soon. Would you like some wine while we wait?” “How kind. But wasted on my current form.” Sombra gestured at his half-ethereal, mote-shrouded body. “No teleportation this, but merely a sending. You understand my caution in these troubled times, I pray.” “Hmm.” Iridium let a hush fall, heavy against the whispering wind and rain. He glanced out the window. Past the serrated edges of glass, a forested landscape threatened by gathering stormclouds ran. They burned red at the horizon in the dying light of dusk, and at that edge, it was possible to make out distant smoke trails. “Pretty, isn't it?” said Sombra, dragging Iridium from a grim line of thought. “Corn Rose or Mercy's work, I shouldn't wonder. Or some smaller warlord's doing. Flitting around the weary Celestial Legions like hornets around dying flesh. What a difference one banishment can make.” This last came contemplative. “It will have to be put to rights if her Legions don't finish the job before the end. I will not rule over rags and tatters. My birthright is higher than that.” Iridium's jaw was set. Sombra smiled. “As you say, O Prince.” At that moment, there came a tremendous crashing on the distant door at the other end of the hall. Old timbers rocked as if being pounded with a heavy hoof. “Ahoy the mouldering ruin!” shouted a mare's voice. “I've got my invite! Let a poor, weary mare in!” “Ah,” said Sombra, “Do I detect an inevitable uptick in the quality of current discourse?” Iridium ignored the remark and reached out with his magic to open the door. It gently swing open, and was then abruptly slammed wide. An earth pony trotted casually through, a large and musclebound red-coated mare. Spurs and bolts of steel jangled from her rough metal and leather barding, and her sharpened shoes jangled upon the stone floor. The visor of her helmet was turned up, revealing bright blue eyes and a brighter smile. “Apologies for the tardiness,” she said as she neared Iridium, sending only a brief glance Sombra's way. “Came with the host across the Everfree's edge just there. Bumped into some villages along the way. Turned they were playing host to some of the Lunar fanatics. Can you believe there's still some left nearly a year after the fact?” “A dying breed, certainly. Can we infer you assisted them in such, Corn Rose?” said Sombra. Corn Rose shrugged. “The troops were bored. I was bored. We assisted them, and they and the villagers assisted us.” She eyed the wine pitcher, and pulled it closer to her with one smooth movement. “Got your invite. Intriguing, is what I called its contents. Parked the troops southaways, and came here myself as requested.” “Good,” said Iridium. “We're all here for a common purpose. There needn't be any unpleasantness.” Corn Rose shrugged and swigged from the pitcher. “Well, we'll see how the night goes before coming to those sorts of hasty conclusions. Who else is coming? Just you, me, and Sombra?” “One more. Mercy shall be joining us this evening,” Sombra broke in smoothly. “Gosh. This must be serious then.” Corn Rose regarded Iridium, and then sent a glance all around the hall. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “And here I was, already admiring the pair on you for holding this thing here of all places. What would Old Sol say if she knew, do you think?” “Fortunately for us, she has other things on her mind. Most of my forces are pressing on her strongholds in Neighvada and Prance. She'll keep her attention there if she wants to deny me a straight march right up to Canterlot's gates,” said Iridium. “My brother Palladium commands there. He'll give Celestia and her generals a run for their money before I return.” The ruins of the Castle of the Two Sisters sat silent all around them, as if in mute agreement. “Clever,” said Corn Rose approvingly. “Neighvada and Prance, eh? Seems like all Equestria's burning. Not just Equestria, even. I hear that Ovarn and Bovaland are up to their teeth in Corva's hordes under their … what is it now, their Fourth Cormaer? The Capric Empire will be sniffing around at any losers on that front. Seems like the whole world was just waiting to up and combust.” “Hardly 'seems', my dear. We here can reasonably claim some responsibility for it.” Sombra's smile was thin and cold. “Feh,” said Corn Rose, knocking back more wine. “When the world gives you lemons, and all that.” And at that moment, there came another knocking upon the door. No voice announced itself. It didn't have to. Iridium opened the door, and a pale mare entered, a pegasus. Her coat and mane shimmered dully, as if she'd flown through falling ash. Her wings were held close at her sides, her frame was hunched, her steps were small and soft. Mercy, the last of the four, reached the circle of candlelight and regarded the others with eyes the grey of a winter sky. “Prince Iridium. Lady Rose. King Sombra. A pleasure to find you all here.” Her gaze briefly met Iridium's as it swept across the three, and the unicorn suppressed a shiver. Sombra's casual and arrogant malice was understandable, if undesirable. Corn Rose had all the subtlety of a swung hoof from a happy thug. But Mercy's blankness in person matched with the rumours and epithets attached to her just left him cold. No matter. He would work with what he had. “A pleasure to have your company, likewise. Such charming courtesies we share amongst ourselves, we warlords four,” said Sombra. “Shall we swap more, or delve down to brass tacks?” “The latter, I say,” said Corn Rose. “The wine's finished, so my attention needs fixating.” Iridium turned briefly towards the window as he composed his thoughts. The clouds had shifted in the last of the dying light, and where they had parted, scattered and faint stars wandered in the night sky. In one section, half-covered by clouds, the moon shone. Craters across its gleaming surface described the dark shape of an alicorn's head. It had been a novel addition once, barely a year ago. “Then I'll let my thanks for your respective arrivals remain inferred,” said Iridium. “For now, let us agree on what is evident. Equestria is on the brink. The alicorns have failed it. Luna betrayed us, and Celestia was impotent to stop her, her fanatics, or the chaos that reigns yet. A hair's edge stands between Equestria and collapse. Let us provide that final push.”