//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12: Courage and Cowardice 
// Story: Legionnaires of Equestria 
// by thatguyvex 
//------------------------------//


Chapter 12: Courage and Cowardice 


Bowling. That had been all Allie Way had wanted to do with her life. Work at the local Ponyville bowling alley, get in a good game every evening once her shift was done, and maybe, as some far off dream, participate in some regional tournaments professionally once she got good enough.

That was it. How that simple life had been transmuted into the nightmare she was currently trapped inside was a question so far beyond her ability to grasp she thought she might have a better chance of passing a class on advanced teleportation magic. 

She had blood on her, coating her face and neck with cloying, warm stickiness that left her feeling sick to her stomach. It wasn’t her blood, and she couldn’t be sure whose blood it was anymore. A lot of ponies had been dying around her tonight, she wasn’t exactly keeping track. Could have been from Ocean Salt, whose head had been crushed by one of those stones, splattered like a grape stomped on by an angry foal. That had broken the magic array Allie Way had been a part of just as those monstrous bears were climbing to the top of the wall. 

She tried to fight. A part of her wanted to stand alongside the other ponies fighting for their lives and do what she could to help. It was as if her legs had been replaced with leaden weights and her stomach with ice water. Reactions came faster than thought and overrode any other intentions and Allie Way found herself cowering against the rampart wall, hooves shaking beyond her ability to control as the fighting surged and raged around her. The blood on her may well have come from any number of ponies or ursans dying around her at that point; she had kept her eyes screwed tightly shut the entire time. 

She didn’t open them again until she was roughly hauled to her hooves by another pony and given a hard shake. The face that was gazing at her Allie Way belatedly recognized as the Legion pegasus who was commanding the Equestrian recruits. Alpine? Allie Way couldn’t remember. 

“Hey, recruit, you still in there?” asked Alpine, her otherwise sharp edged voice blunted by a note of light, if forced, humor, “If you’re going to take a nap, can it wait ‘till after the battle?”

Allie Way, still dazed, looked about to see that it seemed the top of the palisade had been cleared of ursans, through her stomach churned at the sight of just how many of her fellow Equestrian’s bodies lay sprawled about in various states of dismemberment from the fierce melee that’d just taken place. Everypony, mare or stallion, looked tired and shocked, the survivors getting back into formations under the direction of the more experienced Legion ponies. As Allie Way watched she could already see earth ponies resuming fire with their crossbows and unicorns getting back into reorganized magic arrays. A lance of shame spiked through her, realizing she hadn’t been doing anything except cower.

Seeing Alpine still staring at her, Allie Way managed to stammer out, “I-I’m okay. Wh-what do I do? My.. .my array partners are all... I don’t see them...” 

She knew Ocean Salt was dead, but she didn’t see the Legion unicorn who’d been leading the array either. No body, at least. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Her legs were still shaking, and that icy feeling in her guts wasn’t going away. All she wanted to do was find somewhere to hide! She couldn’t do that, through. She tried to remember what Trixie and the others had said about watching each other’s backs. To remember the story about their bravery in Arrow Vale. If Coco, Blossomforth, and Trixie could do this... couldn’t she do it too?

But the arctic fear wasn’t going away, no matter how much Allie Way tried to make it. 

Alpine while pointing with a wing further down the palisade, quickly said, “Just go look for any unicorns that are short a horn for an array. We got to keep pouring the fire into those bears before they can regroup for another charge.”

Just as she finished speaking there was a distinct shift in the environment. Up until then the battle, taking place in a snow flecked night of deep darkness, was being partially illuminated by the glow of the magical shield that’d been covering the western gate. Now that glow abruptly vanished, and Allie Way watched with rising horror drawn upon her paling features as that shield dissipated like so much dust being blown away by a hash wind. 

Many ponies craned their necks to look at the now unprotected west gate, more than a few gasping at the sudden, loud cracks of breaking wood that issued forth from that area. Allie Way heard Alpine breath out, “Oh, shit!”

Then with a sound like crashing thunder combined with a decidedly morbid snapping of bone to Allie Way’s ears, the west gate was smashed open. This was followed by a rolling bellow of dozens of roaring ursans, eclipsed by one particular roar that seemed to rise deeper and more blood curdling than all the rest combined. In her shocked state, frozen stiff, Allie Way was only partially aware of the Legion ponies being led by Counter Charge to meet the ursan force pouring through the destroyed west gate. Though barely a company of a hundred, Counter Charge and 4th company rushed in valiantly to crash into the onrush of snarling ursans in a clash of sound loud enough to snap Allie Way out of her stunned state. 

Alpine was rapidly shouting, flying up into the air and gesturing at the Equestrian recruits, “Fall back by squads! Follow your corporals! Keep together and move as a group! Unicorns, get arrays formed! Pegasi, form up on me! Earth ponies, crossbows up front! Move it! Move it!”

Allie Way vaguely wondered, in a numbed back part of her mind, if this meant they were abandoning the palisade entirely? If the gate was gone... was it all over? Were they all going to die? Like a marionette being moved by a drunken puppeteer, Allie Way followed the flow of ponies being led down the various palisade inner stairs and ramps to the ground of the fort’s interior. Legion ponies kept their Equestrian Heartland counterparts focused with either hard barked orders or firm shouts of encouragement, Alpine flying over all of it with a growing cadre of pegasi forming into loose reorganized squads.

This northwest portion of the fort held several buildings, one of which Allie Way knew was the medical clinic, though she was pretty sure the Legion ponies had moved all the equipment and medical trained soldiers into the main keep, so the clinic stood dark and empty as they rapidly marched past it. Dark. Empty. Unlikely to draw much attention.

An idea sprouted in her mind, mixed with her fear fast as quicksilver, and lodged itself like a dark thorn as she got closer to passing by the clinic while following the flow of her company’s march. Everypony was marching so fast, so focused on the battle taking place now just a few dozen paces away that nopony was really looking her way.

Fear waged a swift and merciless war on her conscience. For a second she hesitated in her step, trying to force herself forward. The image of Ocean Salt’s head exploding underneath that stone flashed through Allie Way’s mind, and the blood on her coat somehow felt hotter, even though it’d cooled to a grimy glue by now. 

I’m so sorry, she thought bitterly to Trixie and the others, I’m not brave like the rest of you...

Before the needle pain of shame could stay her hooves Allie Way swiftly ducked into the clinic, head low, and vanished into the building’s shadowed depths. 

----------  

All semblance of unit cohesion had all but vanished among the Arrow Vale ponies. This could not be held against them, for they were not trained legionaries. Indeed, to their credit the townsponies could only throw the full weight of their pride and stubbornness into the battle, laying into the ursans that had broken through the east wall with fury to match their carnivorous foes. Bearing the pride of the Western Barrier Lands on their shoulders the raw hardiness and bullheaded refusal to back down was keeping the ponyfolk of Arrow Vale matched blow for blow against two hundred strong ursan force and led to a pitched, bloody melee at the very entrance that had been cracked open into Beartrap Fortress.

Coldiron could no longer command much of anything, any orders she’d tried issuing being fundamentally pointless in the intense fight swirling around her. It was now down to simple kill or be killed, and praying to the powers that be that her side managed to do more of the former than the later. 

With a hard side-step she threw herself to the left of a charging ursan brave, its painted face and bloodied jaws missing her by scant inches. Focusing a tight arcane beam in the tip of her horn she waited for the lumbering beast to start righting itself and turn its blazing eyes towards her before sending the lance of blinding magic energy to sear a line of raw, burned flesh across the ursan’s face. That didn’t kill it, unfortunately. She was running so low on magic that she had to pace herself. She’d been hoping to take the ursan’s eyes, and leave it to be slain by anypony with a decent sized axe or spear. Instead she’d been off by a few inches herself and had only scorched the monster’s cheek, and with a ear splitting growl it rushed her again.

Coldiron backpedaled, panting and lowering her head to aim her horn dead on towards the charging ursan. Frost collected like rime along the edges of her horn and began to coat the ground before her. She waited until the last possible second before letting a spike of ice grow up from the ground, anchored by the coat of frost in front of her, before rolling away. The ursan’s charge had built such momentum it couldn’t turn away from the spike in time, slamming into the sharpened ice at full speed.

She heard the wet thunk of the ice spike piercing thick ursan flesh, and smiled in tired satisfaction at its gurgled cry. The bear didn’t fall, even with the stake of ice lodged firmly in its chest, dripping thick streams of dark red blood. It turned towards her, feet unsteady, but still determined to charge at her once more. Before it could, however, several ponies came in from the side, all wielding axes with wide, hewing arcs that slashed into the weakened ursan’s hide. One of these ponies Coldiron saw was her father, his large bulk still dwarfed by the ursan he was attacking but his axe still cleaving deep into the monster’s flesh, all the muscle he’d built up over a lifetime of hard farm work now allowing to deliver devastating blows. 

The ursan fell much like a chopped tree, and Coldiron was fast to approach her father and the ponies with him. He was coated with blood, but it didn’t look like much was his own as he wiped his face and gave her a small, grim smile.

“Dirty work, this battle,” Solid Plough said, breathing hard.

Another pony next to him, a thickset purple mare with a rough cut black mane, hefted her own axe and grimaced at the pitched battle, “Ain’t looking too good so far, fellas. Too many bears, not a lot of us to chop ‘em down.”

Coldiron only needed a quick glance to confirm the mare was right. For ever ursan that the Arrow Vale ponies were managing to bring down it only seemed to leave their own numbers getting thinner and thinner, more pony corpses carpeting the ground than those of the bears. Coldiron ground her teeth together in frustration. They needed to hold out at least another few minutes until reinforcements could arrive! 

To make matters worse she could clearly see that female ursan near the center of the battle, the one who’d opened the hole in the wall. That ursan was moving with fluid, swift motions seemingly out of place on a ursan’s bulky frame, easily wading into the thick of the fighting like an expert dancer at a ball. Even as Coldiron watched the female ursan slashed out the throat of one pony with a skilled back-swing of a claw, then with a bellowing chant a series of roots shot up from the ground like small spears, impaling another pony in a dozen places. 

“Nasty piece of work,” said Solid Plough, frowning, and Coldiron nodded in agreement with her father.

“If we kill that one, even if we lose the east flank entirely, at least it won’t be able to use its cursed magic against our comrades,” Coldiron said, glaring at the female ursan and scuffing the ground with a hoof, making her intentions clear. Her father and the ponies with him all nodded agreement and Solid Plough leveled his axe at the read.

“Then let us go, my little icebrand.”

As one the ponies charged, stampeding across the battlefield towards their target. Coldiron felt a swell of pride and odd contentment, despite the desperate, bloody battle. For once in her life she and her father were in agreement on what needed to be done. 

A few ursans saw their charge and moved to block their path, but the female ursan saw as well and with a sharp bellow it seemed to Coldiron that she ordered the other ursans to back off. Shockingly the ursans obeyed, clearing out of Coldiron and the other pony’s path as they charged. Coldiron didn’t question why this was, instead focusing all of her attention on the female, who had turned to face them with what was to Coldiron the oddest smile. She hadn’t ever seen an ursan smile before, and the effect was chilling. 

Ignoring the unsettling feeling she lowered her head and shoved magical energy in a inelegant but brutally effective casting, conjuring a curved series of ice blades that she flung at the female ursan like boomerangs. In response the ursan sucked in a breath and let out a series of resonant chants that made Coldiron’s ears ring, and from the ground erupted and entire blanket of thick roots that slapped and batted the icicle blades out of the air.

Coldiron cursed, rushing to the right, while her father and the three other ponies with him went left. The roots, writing like a mass of snakes, shifted and began to whip at the ponies with lightning speed. Coldiron rolled away as one root tore some of her hide, snapping off a piece of her leather battlemage coat. She heard a scream and saw one of the ponies with her feather take the full brunt of one root cracking into her side, quite likely crushing ribs as she was sent flying.

Then the ursan laughed and spoke, in Equestrian, with a voice like a strummed cello, “I think you must be the leader of this side of the battle, ice pony. I want to honor you with personal battle with me. Show me the power that has earned Grandmother’s respect!”

Grandmother? What was this ursan babbling about? Coldiron neither knew nor cared as she came around the ursans left side, firing off a series of small, but fast magical blasts as she ran. The ursan didn’t even bother to try and avoid them, letting the magical energy smack into her thick hide with little more than a snort. The ursan turned startlingly sharp green eyes towards Coldiron with a lot more intelligence and regard than the unicorn was used to seeing on an ursan warrior’s face. There was a keen light in those eyes that left Coldiron feeling as if she was being placed upon a scaled and weighed. 

“You hardly seem at your best. That’s a pity,” the ursan said as Solid Plough and the two remaining ponies with him charged in at her from the other side. Without even looking the female ursan kicked out with a back leg, catching the stallion next to Solid Plough square in the chest, almost caving it in and he fell bonelessly to the hard soil. Solid Plough and the remaining mare at his side didn’t slow at the lose of their comrade and both went in side by side, axes slashing down. The ursan slashed viciously, a swift chant on her lips. Her paw caught Solid Pough’s axe, the blade drawing blood, but stopping it in its tracks. Roots shot up from the ground direclty underneath the ursan, spearing away the other axe swung by the purple mare. Before either pony could react, or Coldiron could begin to cast another spell, the ursan pushed back Solid Plough and his axe, causing him to backpedal several steps, then in the same motion the ursan slashed down hard with a paw at the purple mare, who raised a leg in reflex. 

Blood coated the ground as the mare’s leg was almost entirely severed by the blow, the limb now dangling by a strip of rag-like red flesh. The mare fell, screaming and clutching the near stump of her leg. Solid Plough looked at the scene with eyes wide with horror, then with his face twisting into a howl of rage he pounded his hooves in a charge like a locomotive towards the ursan. The bear seemed less concerned and more welcoming of the attack, her jaws flashing white fangs as she seemed to beckon Solid Plough onward with a gesture from her paw. 

Coldiron was trying to channel a spell, one strong enough to actually hurt this potent foe, but the energy was taking time to form at the tip of her horn, a coalescing white light that was flecked with motes of blue. Her breathing was sharp and her head swimming with pressure and pain as she pushed her dwindling magic reserves towards their rapidly approaching limit. 

Meanwhile, Solid Plough reached the ursan, drew his neck back, and hewed with his axe in a wide, crescent arc. 

The axe slashed a crimson line across the ursan female’s chest as she rose to her hind legs, the blade drawing blood, but hardly seeming to affect the towering bear as she stood over Solid Plough. Large a stallion as he was he was made to look like little more than a newborn colt compared to that towering mountain of bearflesh. The ursan pulled back an arm and swung it forward in a powerful blow, the air all but whistling off its onyx claws. Solid Plough tried to leap out of the way, but was caught in his side. Claws parted flesh, gouging three deep furrows in the stallion that sprouted rivers of blood in the black night air as he was sent sprawling to the ground like a rag doll a dozen paces away. 

“Father!” Coldiron shouted, the word tearing itself from her throat just as she was finishing the spell she’d been channeling. An  intense bar of pure white arcane power flashed through the night and seared a smoking path down the ursan female’s back, charring flesh as it went. The smell of burned fur filled the cold, snow dusted air. 

The female growled loudly in unrestrained pain and with swift, titanic steps that shook the ground, turned back towards Coldiron, dropping to all fours once more. Mist frothed from her mouth as it cracked into a pleased smirk of fangs, “Felt that one. Good, you still have fight. That one was your father? If he dies I will honor his soul with song, and drink to the day we face each other again in the world after, upon the slopes of Urhiem or the plains of the Eternal Herd.”

Coldiron, panting, glanced towards where her father lay. She couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. The amount of blood coating the ground where had fallen left her numb in her gut. Gritting her teeth, she spat and glared at the ursan, letting her eyes declare her intent to kill rather than her words. 

The female huffed out a pleased sound that might have been a laugh, and looked ready to meet Coldiron head on... but then a look of confusion crossed the ursan’s face, soon replaced by a growl as her body bristled. However, she wasn’t looking at Coldiron, but towards the south. Coldiron, despite her better judgement, craned her neck to look south as well, and felt her face pale.

Emerging from the night’s shadows, having already climbed the palisade wall as if it were no more obstruction than a set of stairs, was easily two dozen giant Lurkers. At the head of the pack was what Coldiron knew had to be the same massive Lurker that she had fought beneath Arrow Vale.

With swiftness and deadly power the Lurkers bounded into the flank of the battle. Some of the horrific spiders leaped nearly twenty paces into the fight, landing upon unsuspecting ponies with deadly ferocity. Coldiron could see that upon the front most legs of these large, hair covered Lurkers were large, bladed gauntlets, engraved with faintly green glowing runes. Coldiron watched in mute horror as the Arrow Vale ponies who’d been in the rear of the battle, either trying to recover from wounds or help the wounded in turn, were rapidly cut down like so much wheat before an army of threshers. Those glowing gauntlets split ponies in half, or impaled them with impunity. Lurker fangs sank into ponies who barely had time to turn and try to bring weapons to bear in futile defense. Even if there were just two dozen Lurkers, their size, speed, and the ferocity of their sudden attack all but shattered the Arrow Vale ponies’ rear line.

Snapping out of her shock, Coldiron quickly turned to face her enemy, glaring at the female ursan. She had to kill this one fast, and organize a retreat as fast as possible! But to Coldiron’s surprise, the female ursan was backing away, a look of... of disgust on her face.

“Ulragnok, you fool,” the female ursan was saying in a bitter voice, “So this was your secret. Grandmother will be furious. Sorry, ice pony, but we will have to finish our battle another day, if fate wills we meet again. Remember my name for that day; Regarna.”

With that the female ursan turned and bounded away, heading straight for the hole she’d opened up in the palisade. Coldiron thought only for a second about trying to pursue, but had other more immediate concerns. First she went to check on the purple mare whose leg had been all but taken off. She was still alive, but pale from blood loss. Coldiron gave her a heavy look, saying, “Hold still, this will hurt for a second...”

The mare gave a weak laugh, “Don’t think a bit more hurt’ll matter much now, hun.”

She channeled a concentrated, limited field of ice and covered the wound. It was a poor, makeshift way to stop the bleeding, but it would keep the mare alive for the moment. The mare’s face twisted in pain, but she nodded.

“T-thanks. Now go, check on your father...”

There wasn’t much time to do that. The Lurkers were tearing into the battle, and it’d would be a matter of moments before they were overrun. The ursans were still fighting, through upon seeing the female falling back many of the bears had backed off, some in confusion, others just following the female. Coldiron rushed to her father’s side, kneeling next to him and putting a hoof on his side. The wounds that ursan, Regarna, had given him were deep, and bleeding badly, like red valleys across the side of his barrel. Yet he was breathing. Unconscious, but breathing. Coldiron closed her eyes, pushing back tears. There was no time for that. 

Coldiron stood after gently raising her father and picking up the purple mare with her magic, settling the mare on her back and holding her father aloft as carefully as she could. She’d have to carry them both to safety, if they could make it in time. She still had one last duty to the battlefield, however. The Lurkers were still tearing into the south flank, though Coldiron saw the Lurkers advance was actually slowed by running into the ursans, the bears seeming to see the giant spiders as enemies as much as the ponies. The brief confusion this caused among both the bears and the spiders gave a small window of opportunity for Coldiron to get what was left of her command out of this mess. 

“Everypony!” she shouted, using a quick command spell to enhance her voice so it reverberated across the battlefield like a struck bell,, “Fall back to the keep! Back to the keep!”

---------- 

Blossomforth saw the state of the fight at the east wall and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. There couldn't have been much more than fifty ponies still alive down there, falling back in a ragged line. Pursuing them was a combination of ursans, and of all things more of those Lurkers! Fighting together? Or perhaps not? As Blossomforth watched more than a few of the ursans had turned upon the Lurkers and were fighting the giant spiders as much as trying to pursue the fleeing remnants of the Arrow Vale companies.

The Lurkers for their part were showing no mercy to pony or ursan, cutting down the bears that stood against them, and relentlessly tearing into the fleeing ponies that were desperately trying to get to the keep in the center of the fort. 

Among those ponies she could spot the bright blue glow of magic she knew to be Coldiron’s, and could make out the unicorn down there in the darkness, sending a sheet of ice to slow down the lead Lurkers. Coldiron herself looked slowed by the burden of carrying two wounded ponies, one on her back, another in a field of magic. 

Blossomforth glanced towards the corporal in charge of the pegasi squads of 5th company. They'd’ flown ahead of the company's main body, which was still galloping around the south end of the keep. She could see the column of earth ponies and unicorns even now setting up a fresh defensive line at the front of the keep, giving eager shouts for the Arrow Vale ponies to reach the relative safety that wall of blades and crossbows could offer.  

“Damn, those are some big spiders,” she heard one of the legionnaires flying next to her breath, looking at the Lurkers with wide eyes.

“No pissing your feathers, folks! We got comrades to save! Dive!” shouted the corporal, and as one the squadron winged downward, Blossomforth following suit. 

The cold night air rushed by her and in seconds she and twenty other pegasi went flying straight over the retreating Arrow Vale ponies and lanced straight into the pursuing Lurkers. The Lurkers, for their part, must have sensed the incoming attack, because more than a few lashed out with the bladed gauntlets on their forelegs, or simply leaped up into the air with powerful jumps. More than a few pegasi were met with messy ends, but not before puncturing spears into the chitin of their new, arachnid foes. Blossomforth managed to avoid death, if only narrowly as a Lurker’s leap almost tackled her from the air, only a last second barrel roll getting her out of harm’s way.

Though they’d lost a few of their number, the pegasi’s attack had injured several Lurkers and stemmed their pursuit of the Arrow Vale ponies, purchasing them the time they needed to reach the protective line the rest of 5th company had formed. Now, with no friendlies in the line of fire, the earth ponies and unicorns opened fire; crossbow bolts and deadly arcane spells making a scathing compliment to the pegasi’s distraction. Blossomforth had expected the Lurkers to reel under that assault and fall back, but instead the lead Lurker, who looked rather familiar to Blossomforth now that she was looking at it, only hissed loudly and the giant spiders suddenly broke into multiple small groups that scattered with dizzying speed. 

This presented a problem to the unicorns and earth ponies, who suddenly no longer had a clumped enemy to target, but instead a bunch of smaller groups that were moving so fast to the sides that the mass crossbow fire and spells was suddenly much less effective. The Lurker groups came in at 5th company from all sides now, closing the distance in mere seconds. The ponies clearly weren’t prepared for the speed of these new opponents, combined with viscous strength and deadly weapons in the form of those glowing rune covered gauntlets.

Before the pegasi squads had even regroups for a fresh attack run the rest of 5th company was thoroughly embroiled in a desperate melee. And in the middle of that fight Blossomforth could see Coldiron, having joined the defensive line, throwing up a wall of ice against that oddly familiar Lurker. The huge spider’s gauntlets shattered the wall of ice, and the monster slashed aside other ponies while bearing down on Coldiron with seeming single minded intent.

“Coldiron!” Blossomforth shouted, beating her wings as fast as she could manage while diving, ignoring any calls from her fellow pegasi to stay in formation.

---------- 

Sweat froze like snow crystals on her fur, and the dark night seemed to grow darker with each spell she cast to try and fend off the Lurkers that were relentless in their attacks. The spiders, for all their impressive size, were so light on their eight legs that they could dart in and out at the Legion soldier’s defensive line with sickening speed. Even a glancing blow from their fangs could kill, as Coldiron saw one pony survive a bite to the shoulder only to, moments later, go into convulsions and drop with froth screaming from her throat, poison doing its deadly work. The gauntlets the Lurkers work upon their forelegs were just as dangerous. The blades upon the gauntlets were different for each Lurker, some curved, others straight, while others still were jagged or serrated. Yet regardless of shape the blades were all equally proficient at cleaving through armor and the flesh of ponies. 

Coldiron was near empty of magic, feeling as if she was a well that was not only dry, but had been dug into past the bedrock. The ursans had been bad enough. The spiders were somehow worse. Huge even more so than the bears, and faster than grease on a skillet, the Lurkers tore into 5th company’s line brutally.

Claymores wielded by earth ponies still clove deep into the Lurker’s chitin, where those gauntlets didn’t deflect the blows. And spells still worked, other unicorns flashing fire and lightning into the spiders as they skittered about. The damned things never stayed still! Unlike a lumbering ursan, the Lurkers, large as these big, hairy ones were, moved with deadly speed. And leading the bunch was the very same Lurker from Arrow Vale.

As soon as she saw its wretched eight eyed face she somehow knew it had to be the same one she’d narrowly escaped just a few days ago. It clearly recognized her as well, and remembered, because it had suddenly turned to focus all of its attention on her. Fortunately she’d been able to set down her father and the other injured mare, some of the other Arrow Vale ponies taking them along with the other wounded into the keep while 5th company held the line here. That meant that if she died here, her father might still make it.

Trying to slow the Lurker down she poured as much of the remaining magic she could dredged up from her body into forming a wall of ice, but that wall, small and pitiful as it was with her limited magic reserves, was smashed apart in mere seconds. Then the Lurker was looming above her, it's gauntlets raised to slash.

Then a white blur dived bombed the Lurker from above, shouting, “Coooldirrrrron!”

The Lurker lurched, seeming more dazed than hurt, from the spear that’d been driven into its back. It hissed and twisted its body, tossing off the crazy pegasus that had dived onto it. Coldiron was able to recognize Blossomforth’s rather unique mane colors as the pegasus managed to right herself in mid-air. Her spear had been left behind in the Lurker’s back.

“Hey! Coldiron!” Blossomforth said breathlessly, waving, “You okay!?”

Before Coldiron could respond she saw the Lurker recover its senses, turning its alien gaze upon the pegasus that’d injured it, and she reached out a hoof, starting to shout a warning. Too late. The Lurker’s gauntlet blade flashed, and there was a wet, tearing sound. Blossomforth got a blank, quizzical look on her face as she was suddenly falling out of the air, a shower of blood following her to the ground. 

Both of her wings had been completely severed off, the two feathery appendages floating to the ground slower than their previous owner, like a pair of large, feathered snowflakes. 

----------  

Thirza felt an incredible rush of satisfaction, seeing the winged pony thing fall to the ground. It’d been a clean hit, and he was quite pleased he’d managed to clip both wings off the pony without damaging the rest of her body. After all he wanted that one for his own personal victory feast once this battle was over with, and it wouldn't do to spoil the meal by killing her. But that flying around was irritating, and that pony had dared to injure him! He’d have to let its fear build and marinate its blood for a time before consuming it.

He saw the other pony, the magic one, rush to the fallen former flier. He let out some amused pheromones, laughing. How sweet it was to get two of the ponies that had humiliated him in the same part of the battle! The web of fortune was spinning in his favor tonight! 

His hunters were faring well so far, he could see from both his many eyes and from the smell of their excited battle pheromones. Some were injured, true, but so far none had fallen, and from what he could see they’d so far slain several eights of these small, four legged surfacers. The ponies tried to hold to their inelegant, slow formation, firing bolts from mechanisms on the backs of the unwinged and unhorned ones. Those bolts could hurt, he saw, much like the spears wielded by the flying ones. Several of his hunters sported a few bolts sticking from their furred carapaces. The magic being flung by the horned ones were more dangerous. 

The fire was the worst, searing painfully even when blocked by one’s enchanted gauntlets. With a displeased hiss he noticed a few of his hunters had gauntlets that were already glowing so brightly green with consumed magic energy that he feared they might soon be filled. The runes etched on a hunter caste’s gauntlets could only eat so much magic before there reservoirs were full and they’d lose the power to consume any more mana. Normally this was not an issue in battle with other Aranea, who had limited ways to project magic, but these ponies relied on magic attacks so much it was proving to be more than Thirza suspected his or his fellow hunter’s gauntlets could withstand for long. They couldn't afford to long, drawn out fight. Not while this outnumbered. They held the advantage for the moment in ferocity and momentum, but that would change if even a few of his hunters were killed. Still, enough time to deal with this one gray little horned pony and the now wingless white one. He’d claim them as his and then break off the attack to regroup and search for Leyshi.

Only as he raised his left bladed gauntlet, its long sharp metal gleaming in the reflected light of spell magic, he noticed the horned one was standing in front of the downed wingless one and her horn was glowing with several layers of convulsing blue and white magic; pulsing as if a living thing. That struck Thirza as odd. Wasn’t this one nearly exhausted already?

No matter, he’d finish it now.

He slashed down hard, aiming his blade straight for that brilliant glow of magic. He didn’t know what kind of spell the horned one was trying to cast, but his gauntlet, like all hunter’s enchanted weaponry, as designed to absorb and deflect magic as needed. No spell could-

The world turned white for an instant, a searing light that hurt his many eyes. He felt the descent of his gauntlet halted by a force that felt like hitting a solid wall and Thirza’s front most left leg was engulfed in freezing agony. When his eyes adjusted to the light he saw his blade had hit a kite shaped shell of ice that had formed around the gray horned pony’s body, the gauntlet and front part of his leg trapped inside the ice. And that wasn’t all,  frost climbed up his limb like a rapid growing mold, white crystals of ice snaking across his chitin and leaving raw pain in its wake. Thirza, shocked, pulled away, all but jumping back from the horned pony. To his absolute horror the front part of his leg, near frozen solid, broke away from his body, leaving itself behind along with one of his gauntlets. In mute, stunned disbelief Thirza stared at his frozen leg and gauntlet, now covered completely in frosty blue rime and laying on the ground before the gray horned pony.

He’d feared his gauntlets were near their limit of magic consumption, but he hadn’t expected this one pony to by itself overwhelm the enchanted weapon! What wretched luck. 

The pony stood there, staring at him with baleful eyes, eyes that couldn’t fail to communicate their raw rage even to Thirza’s alien mind. Yet despite the moment of fear he felt at the sight it didn’t take him long to notice the pony was swaying on her hooves, as if dazed. Then he heard it, a loud crack that somehow seemed to echo clearly over the sounds of battle like a clarion call. The pony’s horn had a single splintered crack running up and down its length. The gray pony let out a deep throated, ragged growl of pain, and teetered on her hooves, yet she seemed to keep herself standing by sheer force of will, standing boldly between him and the fallen former-winged pony.

Sheer indignant anger rushed through Thirza as he thrust aside the pain of his missing limb and advanced on the two ponies. The gray one made no move to cast another spell. Perhaps she couldn’t, with her horn cracked so? Foolish indeed, then, to stand in his way, rather than flee and try and save herself. 

Speaking of foolish, other ponies rapidly stepped in, the grim looking creatures forming a wall between him and his prey. With his remaining gauntleted leg he smashed into that line with pure fury, slashing and crushing with impunity at the ponies that dared to stand between him and the two ponies that had humiliated him, and now mutilated him! The thirst for revenge was burning in his abdomen and nothing would deter him from it!

“Thirzy! Hey! Thirzy! Up here!”

He halted in his tracks, slashing left and right to force the ponies to back away from him as looked up. It couldn’t be!? 

Leyshi, that damned, crazy, irresponsible fool was standing on top of the strange wood building in the center of the pony fort. She was balanced on the edge of the roof, her small spindly form waving her four forelegs in rapid gyration of joy, as if he couldn't smell her pheromones of happiness all the way on the ground. 

Fresh anger and near panic completely made Thirza forget the two ponies in front of him for a second as he hissed at high pitch, “Leyshi you silk-brained hatchling! What are you doing up there!? I thought you were captured! I was coming to rescue you and everything!”

“Aww, that’s sweet of you, Thirza, but I managed to rescue myself. It was really exciting! Oh, Thirza, watch out!”

He flinched as some magic ponies flung fire at him and he had to rely on his one remaining gauntlet to cut aside the worst of the magic. The flames still scalded his chitin, however, and with a fierce hiss he noticed that the ponies had dragged away the two ponies he wanted to capture. The wingless white one and gray horned one were carried into the gate of the wooden building, leaving a solid line of eights upon eights of ponies between him and his prey. Curse it all! Leyshi, even when rescuing herself, had the worst timing imaginable! 

“For the love of the Queen’s own eggsack! Leyshi, get down here right this instant!” he shouted, pumping out as much displeasure pheromones as he could while he wheeled about, slashing wildly with his gauntlets to clear a space around him, cleanly gutting two ponies that had gotten to close to him.

“Coming, Thirzy!” Leyshi said, bouncing up and down on her legs, and then leaping straight off the roof. Thirza watched in mind numbed terror as his charge fell through the air, and scrambled to make sure she’d land on his back. He grunted as she landed, and winced even more as he heard her cry out in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying not to sound so concerned. 

“Owowowow! Oooh, why’d they have to torture my legs so much?” Leyshi whined plaintively. Thirza felt himself shuddering in rage at her words. Torture? The ponies had the barbaric gall to torture one of the brood caste!? What monsters. He could kill eighty eights of them and feel not an ounce of remorse for these worthless surface creatures, who clearly had no sense of civilization or common decency. Chirziane’s plan to turn them into the Aranea’s newest source of food almost felt wrong, if only because could such barbarian’s really be worth eating?

Now that he had Leyshi secured, this posed a conundrum. His orders from Chirziane was to make sure one side or the other one this battle; preferably the ursans. it seemed the remaining ursans on this side of the battle had either fled back through the east wall, or had made the mistake of assuming the Aranea were enemies and had forced Thirza and his hunters to slay them. By his estimate there were still somewhere around two eightys of ponies on this side of the battle, and his three eights of hunters had already done plenty of damage to them. The much larger mass of ursans to the west ought to be able to finish the job, right? 

Should he just call his hunters off and get Leyshi to safety? Staying to fight would put her in further danger, but it’d give him a chance to get his revenge upon those ponies that’d so shamed him. Just cutting off the one’s wings wasn’t enough! The gray one had taken his leg! 

A bolt from a ponies weapon nearly clipped Leyshi and she let out a small squeaking hiss of fear. Thirza sucked in a breath and let out a long hiss of annoyance. 

With a blast of sharp pheromones and a hiss that carried over the sounds of battle Thirza ordered his hunters to retreat. They’d already killed many eights of ponies, so he could easily claim to Chirziane that they’d done their part. If the ursans couldn’t finish the job then they weren’t worth being allied to anyway. With swift steps, faster than the ponies could follow, the hunters turned and skittered away, taking a few parting swipes at the ponies as they went. Spells and crossbow bolts followed them, but Thirza and his hunters were two swift to be caught by the parting shots. The hunters were swift, despite the many that bore severe injuries, leaving trails of blood in their wake as they rapidly leaped and skittered back the way they’d come. In short order the Aranea hunters were crawling over the now empty east wall and scuttling over the dark expanse between the fort and the forest.

“Thirza... your leg...” Leyshi said as the darkness of the forest swallowed them up like a safe web, “I’m sorry I caused you trouble.”

It took him a few moments to respond, “Forget it. Chirziane will scold you later, but at least you’re alive to be scolded. I’ll be shocked if she ever lets you come to the surface again.”

“Oh I hope not! this was so enlightening!”

He couldn’t keep an irritated hiss from escaping him, “Enlightening? You said the ponies tortured you!”

“Yup. It hurt a lot, but I learned a lot too. They’re a fascinating race.”

Thirza decided it was best not to respond to that one. After all, arguing with the insane was usually quite unproductive, and he didn’t want to add to the night’s frustrations.

---------- 

She didn’t need to see the whole picture to know the battle was going poorly. Poorly, but not unexpectedly. Counter Charge had known, just as Captain Runeward had known, that things would inevitably end up at this point. With Runeward dead and the both sides of the fort breached there was no chance of holding the palisade any longer. She hadn’t been at all surprised to see the remaining companies on the palisade falling back to the fortress grounds, maneuvering to reinforce her and 4th company at the shattered west gate. 

Their only chance now lay in an organized, slow retreat across the fortress grounds until they got behind the wall of pitch that had been set up earlier. That pitch surrounded the main keep, and if Counter Charge could keep the remaining companies together enough to fall back behind that line, they could light the pitch to create a wall of fire between them and the ursans. It wouldn’t stop the horde, of course, but it’d slow them down enough for everypony to get inside the keep. From there, they’d make their last stand. 

Of course surviving the next few minutes was taking up most of her attention. After leading 4th company on its initial charge to stem the ursan horde she’d been fighting tooth and hoof, her blade and body splattered with ursan gore. She’d lost count of the bears she’d gutted, while still barking sharp orders to keep her company’s line intact. They’d gradually given way to the ursans until the troops from the other companies managed to get down from the palisade and line up in a new formation, a concave semi-circle that absorbed 4th company and held firm against the press of ursans. Hails of crossbow bolts flew straight into charging masses of bears. Boiling spheres of fire and crackling whips of lightning tore gaps in the surging ursan horde. As bears tore into the pony’s line claymores struck out to cut throats or stab into exposed weak points. Yet for every bear felled, two ponies were torn apart or dragged down under ursan jaws, and the ponies kept falling back, step by step, leaving a wake of blood and corpses behind them. 

And amid it all Counter Charge had bellowed encouragement, relocated troops where holes opened in her line, and slashed and bucked viciously against any bear that came her way.

Then the ursan Warchief, Ulragnok, took an interest in her. 

He’d been ravaging her line, but had not allowed himself to be fully engaged in the battle until he turned his wide bulk towards her and bellowed forth a roaring challenge. Counter Charge wasn’t surprised. As the leader of the ursan horde this bastard would be looking for the biggest challenge on the battlefield to increase his personal honor, and Counter Charge was among the only Legion officers left on the field. 

Counter Charge braced herself as she watched Ulragnok barrel headlong into the center of her troops, aimed right for where she’d been leading the retreat. She’d leveled her claymore and slammed it straight into his charging bulk, only for the blade to scrape off the iron plates of his armor and for her body to get battered aside as if she’d tried ramming a stone wall. A stone wall that was moving. She felt her bones rattle and perhaps a rib crack as she rolled aside, barely getting to her hooves in time to slash the throat out of another ursan that tried to bowl her over.

Ulragnok in the meantime had smashed straight into the middle of 4th company’s line, rending with his claws in unbridled fury, tearing ponies apart or sending them flying with impunity. 

Counter Charge, shaking the dizziness from her head, grinned and bared her teeth, hooves digging into the cold ground as she galloped after him. 

Around her ursans were engaged with numerous ponies. Pegasi churned about in the sky, swiftly flying down to thrust with their spears. Earth ponies rushed in with claymores slashing, and unicorns moved in tight teams of three, sending empowered array spells at any target of opportunity that presented itself. This kept the area around her clear of ursans for a moment, giving her a straight shot at Ulragnok.

Rushing across blood soaked ground Counter Charge reached Ulragnok just as he was lifting his head to snap a pegasus out of the sky with his powerful jaws. She heard the stomach twisting crunch as Ulragnok’s jaw clamped down and crushed the struggling pegasus in a burst of wet gore. As the ursan Warchief spat out the corpse he turned just in time to see Counter Charge’s approach. His left paw struck out, intercepting Counter Charge’s claymore. Claws and steel met in a small shower burst of ember sparks. Counter Charge felt the immense strength and weight of the ursan as he shoved back with his paw and she and her sword were sent flying backwards as if a foal pushed down by a grown adult. She heard the deep, rumbling laugh of the Warchief as he smashed a paw into the ground she’d just occupied, only barely rolling away in time to avoid being turned to red paste.

“Yes, this is what I wanted,” Ulragnok bellowed as Counter Charge got back to her hooves, eyes glinting with determined grit as she aimed her blade at him once again. The ursan growled in pleasure. “This fortress will just be the first. The first conquest in the glory that will be my campaign!”

He surged forward, a dark tidal wave of bristling fur and iron plated armor. Counter Charge tensed to dodge, her muscles screaming at her from the exhaustion of the hours of battle up to this point, but she ignored that as she carefully watched Ulragnok’s movements. A twitch in his shoulder, a tilt of his head, that was all the warning she got before his right paw lashed out in a harsh horizontal arc. She kicked back, claws scraping her armor, tearing out ligaments of the fine Legion chain-mail, and cutting bloody grazes across her blue coated chest. Without stopping she immediately plunged back in while Ulragnok’s swipe still left him unbalanced. Her claymore thrust forward, but Ulragnok managed to turn his shoulder to take the blow. The black iron of his armor sparked as Counter Charge’s claymore scraped along it. Now she was the one who was overbalanced and Ulragnok quickly reversed his earlier attack, smacking Counter Charge across the face with a vicious back-swing.

The world went hazy, her brain going all a jumble as her vision spun. She didn’t even feel herself hit the ground, but blinked and found herself staring at black sky, pegasi warriors spinning through the air as they dove upon the battle. Her head ached, and her jaw felt like a thousand cotton wads had been stuffed into her mouth. 

Wondering why she wasn’t dead yet, Counter Charge rolled onto her stomach and tried lifting her head. Her claymore was nearby, its tip planted in the ground where it had landed blade first. But where was Ulragnok!?

She heard his war cry, a towering roar that seemed to tear apart the night and drown out the din of battle between hundreds of ponies and ursans. Counter Charge looked to her right, where the combined line of 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th companies along with the Equestrian recruit company had held firm against the press of ursans, refusing to break under the growing strain of the bear’s assault, and she saw in the center of that Ulragnok still stood... but hadn’t yet been able to smash through the ponies standing against him.

Specifically because it seemed there were a small group of ponies were facing the Warchief down directly. She could only imagine it was their interference that Ulragnok hadn’t had time to finish her off. There were at least a ten legionaries engaged with Ulragnok. Among them Counter Charge recognized Alpine’s swooping form, as well as, to Counter Charge’s surprise, two of the Heartlanders who’d been in Coldiron’s squad. Coco Pommel and Trixie Lulamoon. Coco was leading several earth ponies in slashing away with claymores at Warchief Ulragnok’s flanks while his attempts to slaughter them were being distracted by constant bursts and flashes of smoke and light from the constantly running and ducking Trixie. 

The sight of the Warchief so stemmied was making moral among the ponies soar upward and giving pause to the ursans themselves. It was an opportunity to reform broken lines and redouble efforts to fall back behind the line of pitch, which Counter Charge could see was less than ten paces from where the bulk of the remaining Legion forces were holding the ursans back. 

Counter Charge got up on swaying hooves and retrieved her claymore. A part of her wanted to rush back into the fight with Ulragnok, but her troops needed guidance. She whispered a silent prayer for the safety of those brave souls still battling the Warcheif, and proceeded to do her job as an officer. 

----------  

Trixie was for the first time glad of the sheer madness and chaos of battle. Everypony would be too busy fighting to stay alive to notice the tears of fear streaming from her eyes, the rather unheroic way she was constantly swearing under her panting breaths, or the fact that she might have voided her bladder at some point. Tattered self-image aside she thought she was doing well, not being gutted, disemboweled, dismembered, or otherwise fatally and messily ripped from this mortal coil yet. Now if she could only keep things that way!

On reflection, joining Coco on a suicidal charge at the ursans titanic Warchief was probably not the best way to accomplish that goal. Oh well, live and learn. Or not. Not was a high possibility, still, as Trixie discovered as she saw Ulragnok’s claws flashing towards her. Screaming, Trixie ducked and fired off another burst of bright green and purple fireworks, dotting the night with pops and flashes. At this point it seemed all she could do! When she’d tried an actual arcane beam on the Warchief the small (not that small mind you, as if Ponyville’s stupid purple paragon could’ve done better!) magical line of light hadn’t so much as made the monolithic mound of bear flinch. But the Warchief did seem to get distracted easily by her fireworks and dancing lights. 

She felt the air pass over her head as the claws narrowly missed her, Ulragnok roaring as her lights blinded him once more. The ponies fighting beside Trixie took advantage, Coco and at least five other earth ponies rushing in with claymores hacking and slashing, while Alpine soared overhead with a few other pegasi, spearing at the bear like foals poking a beehive with sticks. The blades and spears scored hits, yet Ulragnok’s armor or his sheer thick muscled bulk kept any of the wounds from being anything other than superficial. It was like trying to slay a mountain with toothpicks. Trixie had a rather wretched flashback to her debacle in Ponyville.

She’d tried standing against a horribly gigantic bear back then, too, with similar ineffectual results. 

Her mind turned towards a terrible thought. She could still cast her invisibility spell and flee from all this...

It seemed so clear they couldn’t kill this Warchief. The other ursans were pressing her fellow ponies badly, and she could see dozens upon dozens of bodies already carpeting the ground like slick red flowers. For every time an ursan was brought down it seemed at least three ponies lost their lives to do it. The screams, the clamour of metal on metal, or the gut churning wet sound of ripping flesh... it all filled the air and penetrated Trixie’s mind.

Why not run? Why not flee and save herself? She didn’t have to die here...

She watched as Coco Pommel reared up on her hind legs. The one-time seamstress' mane was slicked down with blood, some of it her own from a glancing head wound that sent streams of red flowing down her face, joining the blood from the claw marks on her face. Coco’s eyes were fiercely focused, almost wild. Her mouth gripped the hilt of a large claymore blade, veins popped out along her neck as she struggled to wield the massive weapon. Ulragnok had impaled another pony on one of his claws, lifting the stallion into the air and shaking his paw to ripped the poor legionnaire to pieces, entrails spilling across the ground like discarded party streamers. Coco, shouting wordlessly, rushed the Warchief’s grinning head, and aimed a blow straight for his neck.

For a second Trixie thought Coco might be able to end this nightmare then and there.

Ulragnok flicked his paw, sending the corpse of the stallion he’d just slain sailing into one of the pegasi that’d been preparing to dive upon him. He turned his head as he wheeled his body to face Coco, her claymore hitting his skull dead on... and bouncing off. The blade cut flesh, certainly, leaving a gash, but the blade couldn’t penetrate that monster’s thick skull bone. The rebound was so bad the force knocked the claymore out of Coco’s mouth, sending it flying and causing her to stumble back. Trixie watched in horror as Ulragnok’s face turned into a leer and he lifted a paw and slammed it down like a fist, driving Coco into the ground.

Coco’s cry of pain wrenched Trixie’s heart. Fear still gripped her in a clammy, cold embrace that made her limbs feel like blocks of granite, but Trixie forced all of her instincts that were screaming at her to run to the back of her mind. Instead she stood and screamed at the  top of her lungs, “Hey! You ugly lout! Trixie demands your attention!” 

Ulragnok, she knew, could kill her in an instant. But she had to do something! Otherwise, Coco...everypony...

She could see the Warchief lick his lips, his jaws salivating and dripping with blood from earlier kills. She could easily imagine those jaws clamping down on her throat, crunching down with finality. 

“I will kill you in a moment, worthless one with the flashing lights,” he grumbled, and turned a paw towards the fallen Coco, “But first-”

“Trixie said she demands your attention, you incompetent, pathetic, smelly excuse for a bear!” Trixie bellowed, “How could something as garishly moronic as you lead anything outside of an effort scuffing a hole to defecate in!”

Trixie might have been less than a spectacular mage or warrior, but if there was one thing Trixie was certain she could do... it was piss someone off. 

Ulragnok’s eye twitch was proof enough of that as he turned his attention away from Coco and turned smoldering eyes towards Trixie, taking a lumbering step forward as a deep growl that made the air vibrate rumbled from his lips.

“What did you say, little pony?”

Trixie put a hoof to her chest, giving a look of mock innocence, “What? I said you are such a idiotic, pea-minded foal that the only thing you could possibly be responsible for is digging the holes your kind do their business in. Hard of hearing? Small brain having difficulty processing Trixie’s sharp wit? Not surprising. Few are a match for Trixie’s scathing words, least of all a giant lump of a bear who would look better as a throw rug than a Warchief. Trixie laughs at how pathetic you are, Ulragnok!”

Trixie also hoped he wasn’t noticing how much her legs were currently shaking or how pale her features were becoming with each step he made towards her. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, Trixie thought over and over as she let yet more insults pour from her mouth to taunt the ursan Warchief. With each step towards her, however, he was taking a step away from the injured Coco, who Trixie could see with relief was still alive and able to move. Coco was looking up, shaking the glazed look from her eyes. Good. Now, if only Trixie could figure out what to do now that she had the Warchief's undivided attention.

With one final, earth shaking step, Ulragnok was face to face with Trixie. His nostrils snorted, blowing back her mane. His dark eyes bored into her, and Trixie’s heart felt as if it would break clean out of her chest in fear, yet she forced a cocky smile on her face as she looked death in its snarling face.

“Your breath is perhaps the only thing about you that Trixie will acknowledge is strong. Do you ursans even know what a toothbrush is?” 

Ulragnok’s paw shot out, gripping Trixie around her throat, and most of her upper body. The Warchief rose upward, standing on his hindlegs, raising Trixie into the air like a small azure doll. Incredible pressure squeezed down on Trixie, cutting off breath and bruising flesh. Ulragnok drew Trixie close, raising his other paw to draw a single claw slowly across her brow. His voice was like the an avalanche, and just as without pity.

“What more do you have to say, tiny pony? Other than to scream?”

And Trixie did scream as the claw on her brow began to cut, tearing downward, across her left eye and cheek, ripping a path of blood and pain. She couldn't tell if her eye had been cut or not, but the pain was so intense it was impossible to do more than continue to scream as the claw did its bloody work. 

“Where are your jokes, now? Your insults?” Ulragnok asked as his claw finished tearing at the bottom of Trixie’s jaw, having left a ragged, deep gash of red flesh across the magician’s face. His voice turned into a snarl, “Say something, pony, I’ll let you have that. One last word before I tear your intestines out.”

His claw went down to her hanging belly, pressing inward, but not quite puncturing, as he stood there, letting the pressure up on Trixie’s throat just enough so she could speak. 

Trixie, blood blinding her, an ocean of hot pain snuffing out her ability to think clearly, looked around her with her remaining good eye.

Coco was standing behind Ulragnok, unarmed, yet already in motion.

The Legion’s battle line had been pressed back well behind where Ulragnok held Trixie, so even if they somehow defeated him, they’d be surrounded by ursans and far from help.

Yet, Trixie felt the fear draining out of her along with her blood. 

And, oddly, she saw something coming that nopony else did. Another unicorn, carrying a most unexpected item that the unicorn hurled with skill and force in a telekinetic grip. That item flew through the air in a perfect arc, and Trixie, in her pain dazed stupor, just grinned madly at Ulragnok and said, “...Strike."

---------- 

A few moments earlier...

Allie Way hid under one of the clinic’s bed’s, hooves covering her flattened ears. She couldn't drown out the noise, the horrific noise, of battle. The roars, the screams, they were unending, and each one felt like another weight landing upon her shoulders.

Coward. She was such a coward! Ponies were dying. All she could do was hide. Ponies were fighting. All she could do was shut her eyes. 

She thought of Trixie, Coco, and Blossomforth. They seemed so brave. So strong. They’d fought against those terrible sounding spider monsters, and had returned just to throw themselves into an even worse battle against the ursans. It seemed so crazy that ponies could hold such courage to face those dangers without wanting to run and hide from it all! Why? What kept them from just caving in to fear? Allie Way couldn’t understand it. The fear inside her was so strong she could barely move.

Why was it that other ponies were able to stand and fight while she just cowered and hoped nothing would find her hiding spot? 

She let out a small sob, wishing she could just stop hearing the noise. The screams...

...one scream cut through the others,and made Allie Way raise her head.

That voice! That was Trixie! 

Allie Way blinked, tears streaming down her face. Trixie’s scream echoed in her head, rang all the way down to her soul. Words flashed up from memory, blazing through her like a brush fire. Blossomforth’s voice, and Trixie’s, and Coco’s...

“Trixie can’t deny it will be hard, and frightening. However, Trixie believes that if we let ourselves think too much about how bad things might be, that will just make it more certain the worst will happen.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in being scared. We all feel the same way. That’s why you’ll be fine out there. You got us to watch your back. You freeze up; I’ll swoop in and snap you out of it. You just got to promise to do the same for any of us, right?”


Allie Way’s face went still, her tears seeming to halt like a freshly damned stream. The fear was still wrapped around her like an icy set of chains, but they were no longer keeping her bolted to the ground. Her world had shrunken to a moment of focus upon a single fact; she had to save her friends! 

In an instant her eyes scanned the clinic. Much had been taken in the rush to relocate the medical ward to the main keep, but certain non-essential items had been left behind on the shelves or tucked into corners. One of those items was a ball, about the size of a pony’s head, and perfectly round, bound up in leather. Allie Way had seen medicine balls before. They were used for exercise by athletes back home, or physical therapy for those looking to recover their strength after an injury. She supposed the Legion clinic had one for the purpose of strength training soldiers who’d been bedridden for awhile.  

Regardless of why it was there, the medicine ball happened to be shaped and sized almost exactly like a bowling ball. 

Well, all I’ve ever wanted to do was bowl... Allie Way thought as she picked up the medicine ball with her magic, and turned towards the door of the clinic, So let’s bowl.

When she got outside she could see the battle had moved ahead of the clinic, leaving her just a little behind the main line of ursans. The bears were so focused on the battle that none were looking towards the seemingly abandoned buildings along the palisade, nor at all Allie Way.

She saw Trixie. The blue unicorn was being held up by the most colossal ursan Allie Way had laid eyes on, his bulk covered in iron plated armor. He was choking Trixie, and cutting the mare’s face with one free claw. 

There was nothing between Allie Way and them. 

Despite the cold fear still trying to claw its way around her heart, Allie Way focused, taking a deep breath just like she did when at the bowling alley. This wasn’t like any shot she’d ever made in her life. The pin was a lot bigger, for one. She was also aiming to smash the top of it, not the bottom, but hey, bowling was her specialty, and she had never feared when it came to following her special talent. 

Allie Way charged, getting a good gallop up as she began to spin the ball in her magical grip. She needed to get the right spin on the ball to get it to go where she wanted. Important bowling tip. 

In her mind the battlefield of blood and death faded away, so that she was back home in Ponyville, at Paradise Bowl, just her, a clear alley, and the pins. She’d never felt calmer or more certain about a shot as she reached the sweet spot to release. She hurled the ball, putting a final spin on it with as much magic as she could channel through her horn. 

It sailed through the air, a perfect curving arc.

The twenty five pound medicine ball smashed right atop Warchief Ulragnok’s head with a sound like a ringing bell; coincidentally right atop the same spot Coco’s blade had struck earlier.

Allie Way stood there, now realizing that a number of ursans were now noticing her and turning away from the battle towards the few ponies who’d stayed behind to fight their Warchief, but she suddenly wasn’t scared. She just felt oddly satisfied as she said, “...Strike...”

----------  

Ulragnok’s eyes crossed as the ball thrown by Allie Way smacked into it and bounced off, leaving a slight indent in the ursan’s cranium. Trixie felt the paw around her neck slacken its grip and she fell nearly ten feet to the ground, the fall hard enough to blast the air from her lungs.

As she desperately caught her breath she could see Ulragnok teetering on his hind legs, like a tree swaying in the wind. Yet he hadn’t fallen, his eyes just blinking stupidly.  

However there was another pony to help with knocking that tree over; Coco Pommel. 

The seamstress charged directly at the ursan Warchief’s backside, and spinning around, planted her forehooves on the ground and drew back her hindlegs. Coco bucked for all she was worth... straight into the back end of Ulragnok’s groin.

Even Trixie winced slightly at the sight. 

Ulragnok was shaken out of his stunned state only to howl at the sky in pain, and Trixie watched as he fell to the side very much like a crumbling tower, paws clutching between his hind legs. Trixie, despite the pain burrowing through her face, managed to stand and laugh.

“Trixie thinks perhaps there shall not be any mini-Warchief’s gracing the realm for sometime. Such a shame...hehe...ow...owowow...”

“Trixie!” Coco cried, galloping up to her, “Dear Celestia, your face! Are you alright!?”

“N-never mind that! Trixie’s face is the least of her concerns! There are larger, bear oriented things to worry about at the moment.” Trixie, breathing hard, voice raspy as she pointed at the score or so of ursans that had broken away from the fighting to advance towards them. Though the ursans seemed hesitant, having seen their leader fall, there were just three little ponies standing before them, cut off from the support of the rest of the Legion. Easy kills, despite the luck they’d had with the Warchief, who was still groaning on the ground and clutching at his... bear necessities.  

Coco looked at the approaching ursans, backing away a step, “Oh, um... this is a pickle, isn’t it?”

Her battle fury seemed to had finally played out, leaving behind a tired, alarmed looking young former seamstress. Trixie looked over at Allie Way. The other unicorn quickly trotted up, her long neck turning left and right as her eyes got ever wider. Allie Way’s calm focus was rapidly dissipating and her fear quickly returning. 

“What do we do?” Allie Way asked, anguish on her face, “I wanted to save you, but...”

Trixie gulped, thinking of the only idea that seemed left to her. She knew now she couldn’t abandon any of these ponies. Not Coco or Allie Way, and not Blossomforth or Coldiron. Live or die, they were doing this together. Taking a deep breath, wiping blood from her face, ignoring the urge to scream from the pain of the wound there, she said, “Stay close to Trixie and grab her shoulder, or tail, or anything. Just stay in contact with Trixie. Hurry!”

Coco and Allie Way shared confused glances but obeyed, Coco placing a hoof on Trixie’s back and Allie Way going to Trixie’s other side to do the same. Trixie then closed her eyes and channeled her magic through her horn, creating a fast burst of violet light. The ursans were now mere steps away from them... but the mares vanished from sight in a puff of blue smoke that billowed out like a fog cloud.

From that smoke Trixie trotted at a swift canter, Allie Way and Coco at her sides. The mares could not be seen by the naked eye, however, for Trixie was channeling her invisibility spell, covering all three of them in a sheet of reflective, bending light. It wasn’t perfect. Covering three ponies was difficult for Trixie, and having to move made the illusion spell even harder to maintain. The air shimmered as the moved, like a ripple over still water. But it was better than nothing, and for the moment it seemed to fool the ursans.

Now if they could just get back to the Legion’s lines before Trixie ran out of magic...

----------  

Counter Charge hadn’t been able to believe her eyes when she saw the Warchief fall. Dead or not didn’t matter much, it shook the ursans enough to allow her to finally order a full retreat without risking losing her entire force. Line by leapfrogging line the Legion companies pulled back from their ursan foes, earth ponies firing the last of their crossbows from emptying cases, and unicorns pouring the last of their mana into final explosive spells to smash their enemy’s line back.

Counter Charge let out a massive breath of relief as she smelled the sharp scent of the pitch under her hooves and waited with stressed eyes as she watched her ponies fall back behind that line of soon to be deadly ground one by one.

When the last of 4th company got behind the pitch line she turned, seeing Alpine landing beside her. The pegasus’ green coat was covered in wounds and her wings flagged with exhaustion. 

“Is this everypony?” Counter Charge asked.

“Can’t rightly say, Sarge,” said Alpine, “The Heartlanders are all accounted for, mostly, and I didn’t see anypony lagging out there... only..”

“Only?” 

Alpine bit her lip, looking towards the ursan horde, which was regrouping around their Warchief. Ulragnok had finally recovered from the blows delivered to him, and Counter Charge could see his form stalking (with a satisfying limp in his hindquarters) around the front of his horde. 

“Those crazy Heartlanders that knocked that big bastard for a loop... I lost sight of them,” Alpine said, “I had to pull back from that brawl and dammit I lost sight of them! I don’t know where they’re at. I didn’t see their bodies anywhere, but...”

Counter Chare, heart heavy, nodded, “But they could have easily been torn to shreds while you weren’t looking. They bought us time. If we can find their bodies at the end of this, if we’re alive, we’ll bury them with honor.”

Alpine’s wings drooped even further, “Here’s hoping they managed to make a run for it.”

“That’d technically be desertion.”

“Buck it, I’m not gonna judge at this point. We’re pretty screwed, one way or another,” said Alpine, and Counter Charge decided not to argue the point. With a grave sigh Counter Charge turned to her friend.

“Light the pitch.”

---------- 

While it’d felt good to save Trixie with a moment of clarity, and she certainly didn’t regret leaving her hiding place in the clinic, Allie Way was still freshly terrified as they hurried across the open space between the regrouping ursan horde and the reforming lines of the Legion. There was easily fifty paces between the two forces now, the bears occupying the walls and gate and massing for what would no doubt be a final charge to smash the ponies apart.

Ahead of the invisible mares the Legion’s companies, tattered and battered as they were, had begun to file back towards the wooden center keep, maintaining a defensive line formation.

“Almost.. almost... almost...” Allie Way could hear Trixie saying, despite not being able to see the other mare. Allie Way kept her hoof firmly placed on Trixie’s back, and could feel Coco’s hoof there as well. Coco’s hoof even gripped hers encouragingly, and Allie Way smiled, despite knowing Coco couldn’t see it.

Then she smelled something.

“What is that?” she asked.

“What’s what?” asked Trixie.

“I smell it too,” said Coco, “It’s...oh no! Trixie, Allie, RUN!”

“Wha-?” Trixie got out, then Allie Way saw a burst of fire launched from the Legion line, a single small fire spell that arced through the dark, snowy night... and landed about twenty paces to their left, igniting the pitch the three mares were walking over.

The invisibility snapped off instantly as Trixie dispelled it, gasping in shock and fear as the fire spread like a river towards them. All three mares broke into a full gallop, running for their lives. The fire blazed towards them with terrible speed. Allie Way’s heart hammered against her rib cage.

Then she tripped. She fell face first in the pitch, tasting its slick taste in her mouth. She rolled over, saw the flames licking towards her, and screamed.

Then hooves grabbed her and hauled her away, throwing her from the path of the fire. She heard another pony hiss in pain, and looked up to see Coco’s face wrenched in pain. The mare’s right side was seared red with fresh burns, but the wall of fire now blazed behind them, Coco having dragged Allie Way free just in time to keep the unicorn from burning alive. 

Nearby Trixie sat on her haunches, panting, and looking at Allie Way and Coco with fresh worry. Coco set Allie Way down and stood there shaking, smoke still trailing from her burns. Allie Way stared at her, unable to even mouth the ‘thank you’ she desperately wanted to, just too drained and shocked to say anything.

“Coco...” Trixie said, eyes taking in Coco’s burns with a fearful glance, “Are you...?”

“Alright?” Coco said through clenched teeth, “Ask me again... in the morning.”

Suddenly a pegasus landed next to the, Alpine. She was shouting for more Legion soldiers, who came rushing up to the injured mares.

“Get these three inside the keep and to Quick Needle’s medical ward at once!” Alpine was ordering, and before Allie Way knew it she was being born alone with Trixie and Coco on the shoulders of strong legionnaire shoulders, being taken away from the fire and the blood of this terrible night and into the open gates of the keep... to what little safety or salvation might lay within.

----------  

It was almost over. Coldiron knew that much. From the words she’d picked up listening to the legionnaires entering the keep she could put together a picture of the shape the battle had taken. They’d lost the walls. They’d fought across the fortress grounds. The pitch had been lit, keeping the ursans back, if only for a few minutes. Now... now they were all huddled inside the wooden walls of Beartrap Fortress’ center keep, awaiting the horde’s final charge. There was nowhere left to retreat. No more fall back plans. This keep would be their last stand.

Coldiron herself felt frustrated beyond belief. She’d used not just the last of her magic to fight back that giant Lurker, but she’d over channeled, pushed her horn beyond its limits. The crack down the center of her horn shot a constant stream of pain into her skull, a headache to end all headaches. It wasn’t fatal, and if she had a month or two to recover her horn would eventually heal itself, though it was up in the air if she’d ever be able to channel magic the same way again.  

But that wouldn’t matter soon, since it seemed likely they were all going to die here.

She looked over to her right where her father lay on the ground. They were in a hallway inside the keep, one of several given over for the wounded. Quick Needle was moving about relentlessly with his small staff of medics, working without rest to get even one more soldier back on their hooves and into the fight. 

He’d worked briefly on Solid Plough, but Coldiron had seen the look in Quick Needle’s eyes as he’d bandaged her father and soon moved on to another pony. Her father’s wounds were too severe to warrant further work than needed to make the old stallion comfortable. Had this not been a desperate battle, where Quick Needle needed to do everything he could to get fighting ponies back into the battle, then perhaps he could have done more... but why spend hours trying to heal a wounded pony who wouldn’t be able to fight? Who’d need weeks to recover?

No, Solid Plough’s wounds might not have been instantly fatal, but he was just as dead as any of them without more intensive medical care... care Quick Needle couldn't afford to give right now. So Coldiron sat there, her horn useless, as she watched her father draw in shallow breaths, his body slick with sweat, still unconscious. Perhaps that was for the best.

There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much she needed to get off her chest. But maybe now, at the end, it was better just to let it all be left buried. She didn’t want her final memory of her father, or his of her, to be another argument. 

“Sis...?” she looked up as she heard the voice of one of her brothers, and say Haybale and Hoedown approaching down the line of wounded ponies. They were both carrying spears.

She sighed, “You’re going to fight?”

Hoedown nodded his small head. He’d just had his eleventh summer. The spear looked horribly unbalanced in his gangly colt limbs. “Of course! We gotta fight now, if the bears are comin’! Father wouldn’t want us sitting around like scared little fillies!”

Haybale, older than Hoedown by two years, looked less sure of himself, “A lot of us remaining Arrow Vale folk are taking whatever weapons we can and gettin’ ready for... for what’s coming. Ain’t no point just sitting and waiting for the ursans to come to us.”

Coldiron nodded, closing her eyes to hold back a forming wetness in her eyes, “That’s... very brave of you. Father would be proud.”

“You gonna fight too, sis, or just sit around here?”

“I just woke up,” she said, “I was going to ask for my dagger, then find a spot at the main door. That’s where the last line of defense is.”

Haybale gave her a solemn look, young eyes swimming, “Guess we’ll see you there, then, sis.”

“Yes,” she replied, watching the two young colts trot off after giving their father parting hugs, even if he wasn’t conscious to feel them. She soon rose herself, swaying a bit on her hooves. 

Looking among the wounded she noticed one missing. Blossomforth was nowhere to be seen. Somehow that didn’t surprise Coldiron one bit and she suspected she knew exactly where the pegasus had gone off to. With a rueful, pained smile, Coldiron went to find a weapon to arm herself with.

----------  

The main hall of the keep was wide enough that fifty ponies could stand shoulder to shoulder across its forty pace keep hall. Wood pillars held up the roof, all bearing torches that lit the hall with flickering lights. Legion ponies, the remains of the 4th and 3rd companies mostly, formed a solid block here behind overturned barrels or crates as rough barricades. A number of Heartlanders were also here, through by this point the companies had been spread out to various defensive points around the keep.

Trixie, Coco, and Allie Way were here, shoulder to shoulder with their fellow legionnaires. They were all freshly bandaged, the worst of their wounds briefly seen to by the medics before they’d all agreed to come to the main gate for the last ditch defense. Trixie’s face was wrapped in bandages, covering her left eye. Coco’s burns were similarly wrapped up, through the mare grimaced with each movement.  

When a certain white pegasus popped up next to the mares, Trixie stared at her wide-eye. 

“Heya,” said Blossomforth, face pale, eyes sunken, but her voice no less cheerful, “I miss anything with you guys?”

“Blossomforth? What... happened to you?” Trixie asked, staring at Blossomforth’s back.

Blossomforth let out a strained chuckle and wiggled the nubs on her back. They were bandaged, though the bandages showed red spots where blood had seeped through, “Oh, these? Heh, funny story that. Turns out that the Lurker weight loss program is way more extreme than I thought when I signed up for it. Do not recommend it to others.”

Trixie’s lips quivered and tears welled in her eyes, “No... don’t joke about this... Trixie won’t let this...”

She suddenly threw her forelimbs around Blossomforth, hugging the pegasus close. 

“Trixie swears if we live through this she will find a way to get them back for you! Trixie swears it on everything above and beneath Celestia’s sun and Luna’s moon!”

Blossomforth smiled sadly, patting Trixie’s back and returning the hug, “Geeze, you’re melodramatic.”

Coco shook her head in wonderment, “You are something else, Miss Blossomforth.”

Allie Way just nodded agreement, then another voice joined in.

“She is at that. She saved my life.”

Everypony looked over as Coldiron emerged from the moving groups of legionnaires still taking up position or working on barricades. The gray unicorn looked almost as pale as Blossomforth, and Trixie noticed with a shocked gasp the other mare’s cracked horn. Coldiron was fast to hold out a hoof and put on a stern look.

“Hug me and I’ll punch you.”

Trixie scoffed, wiping at her face to get ride of her tears and said in a haughty tone, “Trixie wasn’t planning to!”

“Good. So...” Coldiron joined the group, looking around. She had a dagger sheathed at her side, but no other weapons, “I suppose this is as good a spot as any for a valiant final stand.”

“Rather it be the spot of our awesomely won victory,” said Blossomforth.

“I’d settle for a draw where everypony goes home and eats cake,” muttered Coco. 

“I volunteer for that option,” said Allie Way, raising a hoof, “Can we do that one?”

A massive slam on the main gates that shook the building and caused dust to rain down from the rafters caused every legionnaire to ready their weapons and the five mares to look at each other gravely.

“Guess its time,” said Coco. 

They each readied weapons, even Trixie, who was so low on magic she had to draw her own dagger in a weak levitation field. Coco had scavenged a spear from somewhere, and Allie Way was floating a set of pots and pans next to her taken from the keep’s scullery. Again the keep’s main gate shuddered under a hammer blow, then another, splintering wood. Roaring could be heard from outside.

Trixie knew there were some ponies on the second floor the keep, firing down at the ursans no doubt, but it’d be a trickle compared to what they’d been able to throw at the ursans before, and wouldn’t stop the bears smashing at the gate. Likely this same scene was playing out at the keeps other doors, the few hundred remaining Legion ponies readying to do final, bloody battle through every hallway of the keep, even as the ursans would be tearing it down around them.

Looking to her left and right at the faces of the mares at her side, Trixie wondered how she could ever have considered fleeing from this. Perhaps she was not destined to be a great hero, or a great mage, or a great... anything. But here, now, with these mares, she imagined she could be something better; a good friend. 

Sometimes that takes more courage than facing an Ursa Majors. Or Minor, if one believed that purple know-it-all. Really, Trixie’s only regret was that she’d never get to have a chance to surpass that pony...

Minutes passed, and the door began to buckle under the blows assaulting it...

...Then another minute passed and the blows slackened. Then stopped.

Confusion rose among the Legion ponies, who exchanged numerous raised eyebrows or questioning looks with one another. Then a new noise could be heard emanating from the dark night beyond the door. A noise that wasn’t ursan warcries. No, this sound was artificial, and clear as it cut through the depths of the night.

A horn. Not just one, but many, all carrying a loud, challenging note.

Trixie’s confusion only mounted as the native Legion ponies all gained a fresh aura of excitement, the entire line in the keep’s hall coming alive with buzzing jubilation.

“It can’t be...” Coldiron said, eyes wide, “Those horns! That’s-”

“Reinforcements!” somepony cried out.

“The warhorns of Skywoad Keep!”

“Could they have gotten here so fast!?”

“Somepony get a spyglass to the roof! We need to see what’s happening out there!”

The entire hall burst into motion as legionnaires rushed, some towards the hallways that’d lead to stairs to the keep’s roof, others rushed the doors themselves. Only the bellowing orders of Counter Charge kept some order among the Legion ponies.

“Settle down damn you! We don’t know for sure what’s happening out there! I need three volunteer squads up here! We’ll take a peek, but be ready to push back any of those damned bears!”

Trixie shared a quick look with her friends to see confirming looks in turn, and all five of them went forward to volunteer themselves. In short order they along with two more squads of Legion ponies were with Counter Charge at the front gate, which had nearly been ready to burst apart under the beating it’d been taking. Counter Charge, looking grave, and carrying her claymore firmly in her mouth, nodded for one of the unicorns to open the gate.

It opened a crack, letting in the cold night air. Then, slowly, it opened wider.

Beyond it Trixie could see retreating ursans, the bears pulling back reluctantly but without stop towards the west gate. 

What was forcing them back took Trixie’s breath away.

It was a fresh Legion army, and not merely the size of the small regiment that’d been stationed at Beartrap Fortress. It was a force of at least a thousand ponies, if not more, moving in vast, tight block formations. Their dark armor blended with the night and their flags billowed in the snow flecked breeze. Crossbow bolts fell like rain from hundreds of earth ponies firing in unison, while hurling balls of flame arced red trails through the black night and landed with sorcerous fury amid the retreating ursans.  

This new Legion force had marched right through the south gate of the fortress and pushed the ursans from the main keep, and were now chasing the retreating ursans back through the smashed west gate and onto the hill towards the river. It seemed impossible, but the truth of it was there plain for Trixie to see.

Beside her, Coldiron let out a breath and sat down, “That’s three of the regiments from Skywoad Keep. I recognize the pendants they’re flying. By Terrato’s breath how did they get here so fast?”

Counter Charge, not far away, watched the drastically turned battle with naked relief on her face, “Not as fast as all that. Look.”

She was pointing upward, and Trixie glanced at the sky. A sky that was starting to get lighter and lighter with each passing minute.

“Its morning...” Counter Charge said, laughing.

And so it was. As the hour of dawn arrived on the ruins of Beartrap Fortress, the smoke and blood of the battlefield was lifted away by a fresh east wind that seemed to follow the rays of the sun’s first light.  That light illuminated a night of blood, of loss. But it also illuminated what had been a night of courage, strength, and the will of ponies who had not broken in the face of the impossible.

Dawn’s light cast its grace over the fresh Legion regiments that had forced marched without rest for days from Skywoad Keep to reach their brethren in Beartrap Fortress. That light chased the ursans as they fled, tired, confused, and frustrated, back across the Bearbones river and to their deep mountain forests. Somewhere amid that horde Ulragnok stood, watching his braves flee ponies, and the ursan Warchief let out a mournful roar at the opposite end of the river before turning his back and skulked back into the treeline. 

And, finally, those warm, welcoming first strands of sunlight illuminated a group of mares who were injured, battered, bloody, and exhausted beyond belief. They each would bear scars from this battle that would last their lifetimes, some on their bodies, other scars deeper beneath the flesh... but each of them was alive.

For Trixie Lulamoon, Coco Pommel, Blossomforth, Coldiron, and Allie Way, that miracle alone was enough to share a joyous laugh among themselves as they basked in the blessed gift of a new day.