//------------------------------// // Chapter Ten - Defiance // Story: When The Snow Melts // by Bluespectre //------------------------------// CHAPTER TEN   DEFIANCE     Thorn galloped as hard as he could. Three of his warriors kept pace alongside him, while high above, another two skimmed just below the cloud layer, scanning the ground ahead.   “There! She’s over there!”   They’d watched her fall, seen the great war dragon smash into the princess like a scaled sledgehammer, throwing her down toward the unforgiving ground. In the swirl of smoke and flare of magic, he’d lost track of her, but now they had sight of their quarry once more.   The leader of the Celestians was within his grasp. If he could reach her, bring her before the goddess, then all this carnage and horror would finally be at an end.   Celestia, the great pretender to the throne of Equestria. Their goddess had told them of her betrayal, how the white alicorn had sought to destroy all those who lived in peace beneath the silver light of the moon. She would annihilate them all: every stallion, every mare, right down to the last foal. It would end tonight, and this war, this dreadful cycle of death and killing, would finally be brought to a close.   Thorn heard the distinct clash of steel before he saw her. The white form of the princess was a blur as she raced into the forest, two warriors already fallen in her wake.   “Keep together! Stay alert, but don’t harm her. The goddess wants her alive!” Thorn’s shout was echoed by his warriors as they raced into the darkness of the forest’s interior.   In seconds, they’d caught up with the princess, one of her soldiers already attempting to lead her away back to whatever was left of their army. In a single fluid movement, one of Thorn’s warriors halted, raised his crossbow, and shot. Without making even the slightest sound, the white-coated stallion fell dead at his princess’ hooves, the bolt taking his life in an instant.   Holding out his hoof, Storm Major Thorn halted his troops advance. The heavily-armoured warriors snorted and pawed the ground, but remained where they stood. A veteran of many campaigns, Thorn knew this was a highly volatile situation and one he had to gain control of, or else things could get out of hoof very quickly.   He tried to reason with her, but his words meant nothing to the white mare—she just wouldn’t listen. Despite being his enemy, Thorn respected her. She was proud, brave, a magnificent creature who radiated strength like the sun on her flank, but there was also a stubborn streak that frustrated his attempts to defuse the situation.   Celestia let out a scream of defiance and charged them with her halberd raised. Even with her magic depleted and an injured wing, she was a deadly opponent.   In mere moments, only Celestia, Thorn, and one of his warriors remained standing. All of them were injured; nothing too serious, but Thorn wasn’t as young as he once was, and his muscles were already starting to ache from the desperate fighting. He had to put an end this quickly, or else…   Catching his breath, Thorn spoke, “Princess, surrender to us. Lay down your weapon, and I promise upon my honour that you will not be harmed.”   Celestia was breathing hard, but still managed to give him a look of pure loathing. “You think I can take the word of one of your kind, thestral? You are murderers, killers, all of you! ALL OF YOU! Your words hide the poison the flows within your soul!”   Thorn shook his head. “Don’t be so damned foolish! There’s been too much killing today already. See sense, Princess, please.”   She curled her lip, sneering. “I hear your words, but your lies betray you, creature of the night. Your princess would never spare my life, or that of my people. Her heart is as black as the armour on your back.”   The Storm Major lowered his weapon. “Princess Celestia, please, I want this to be over as much as you. Your army is lost, your cause is lost. Maybe now, together with the goddess, you can—”   “NO!” The warrior beside Thorn suddenly raised his crossbow. “You can’t believe them—they’re Celestians! And she’s the leader of them all! They have to die so we can live. You heard what the goddess said!”   Thorn opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. He saw the thestral pull the release lever, heard the thwack of the cord as it snapped forward, propelling the quarrel straight at the princess’ heart.   In the blink of an eye, Celestia flicked her halberd up, deflecting the deadly projectile away into the trees. Less than a heartbeat later, the Major spun, bucking the impetuous young warrior to the ground.   “You damned fool!” he hissed, turning back to princess.   He had to try and calm the situation down, to make her see the reality of her plight. The last thing he wanted now was a fight to the death with such a majestic mare. Celestia might be the enemy of his people, the leader of their armies, but she was still the sister of his goddess, and he had his orders to take her back alive and unharmed. Orders he would follow to the letter.   “Celestia…”   Thorn’s words never reached her. The princess was no longer looking at him. Instead, she was staring intently past his shoulder. He sighed. Behind him, he could already hear the shouts and distinct rumble of approaching hooves. Another group of his troops were catching up. Soon the forest would be swarming with Nightmare Moon’s soldiers, and Celestia would have nowhere to run. So why was she grinning at him?   A golden corona of light suddenly enveloped the princess, accompanied by a high-pitched whine that assailed Thorn’s ears making him flinch. Whatever it was grew in alarming intensity until, with a loud pop, a large silvery opening appeared beside her, suspended in mid-air. He’d seen their like before. Portals, rents in the world similar to those used by Nightmare Moon to bring him and his warriors into Equestria. They always made him shudder—he didn’t entertain magic. His world was one of muscle, bone, and sinew; that was what you could trust. Magic was a strange force he had never known, and as a warrior, he liked to know his enemy.   It all happened in less than a heartbeat. The white alicorn reared, then leapt headlong through the bright silver hole in the world, disappearing into whatever lay beyond its liquid surface.   Before Thorn could stop him, the younger warrior had picked himself up and threw himself through the portal after the princess. Thorn shook his mane.   “Damned fool!” he spat and charged after them through the portal, and into the unknown.   Around him, bright colours flowed, making his stomach lurch horribly. If only for a brief moment, the world appeared to go out of focus and then slam back in around him. Only a few yards away, the princess was already engaged in a pitched battle with the younger thestral. The warrior was good, both fast and strong, his axe used as both a thrusting and cutting weapon against Celestia’s halberd.   The alicorn tried to keep her distance, but in this strange forest, her ability to move was hampered by peculiarly thin trees the likes of which Thorn had never seen. Other than the strange plant life, though, it wasn’t that dissimilar to Equestria. The moon was high above them, casting its pale light upon the combatants as their breath steamed in the bitterly cold air. Thorn snorted. It was obviously winter here. He’d have to watch his hoofing if he was to try and stop this madness before they killed each other.   Celestia grunted as she took the blow from the thestral’s axe and flicked it around, cracking him hard on the side of the head. The clang as it struck his armour resounded around the forest, and Thorn took his chance. He raised his own weapon and shoved the dazed younger thestral to one side, catching the princess’ thrust that would have surely impaled the foolish youth who had impetuously attacked her.   “Your Majesty, please, stop this!”   She snarled, backing up a step before lashing out with a buck that he barely avoided. Damn her, this wasn’t going to end well. If only he could wear her down to the point that he could—   Without warning, the young warrior roughly shoved the major out of the way, causing him to stagger past the princess, who nimbly dodged out of the way to avoid colliding with him. She didn’t see the incoming strike before it was too late. Unable to parry in time, Celestia cried out as the axe caught her armour, taking the princess off her hooves and slamming her through the trees.   Thorn shouted angrily at the soldier. “Stand down! In the name of the goddess, I order you to lower your axe, warrior.”   He didn’t listen. Whether through the excitement of battle or deliberately ignoring his superior officer, the thestral pressed his attack. Celestia was back up on her hooves in moments, the two of them wheeling, dodging, and trading blow for blow. Both of them were tiring, blood loss and fatigue showing all too clearly. The princess’s magic occasionally flickered as if she were trying to use it, but of the lethal beams of magical energy he’d seen her use in the battle against her sister and the dragons, there was no sign.   The three stood staring at each other, each trying to take stock of the other. Celestia was tired but kept her weapon at the ready, her eyes alive and keen. Thorn was impressed. The princess was the commensurate warrior: proud, strong, and willing to stand even against greater numbers.   This had to end…now.   Thorn stood between the two of them, putting himself, he knew, in mortal danger. Standing side on, either of them could effortlessly cut him down and there would be little he could do to stop them.   “What…What are you doing, you old fool?” the young warrior hissed at him, leaning heavily on his axe. “Have you lost your mind? The enemy is here!”   Thorn shook his head. “Be silent, boy! Your stupidity and arrogance is what has brought us to this. Now, you will obey my orders as a warrior of the goddess, or I will strike you down myself?!”   He glared at the young one, his eyes flaring brightly and teeth bared. The warrior backed off, hanging his head slightly. He wasn’t completely cowed, but it would have to do for now. The major turned to the princess, who looked back at him through bloodshot purple eyes. She was worn out, emotionally and physically. Fresh blood stood out in stark contrast against the pure white of her coat, running down her legs, flank, neck… Goddesses, it was all over her.   “I have asked before, Princess, but I ask once more. Surrender yourself to me and I will assure your safety.”   She laughed, spitting a glob of blood at his feet. “And I expect you think I will believe you, thestral?”   “No. No, I don’t.” The major sighed. “I want you to because, as much as you may hate me, as much as our people have killed one another, I bear you no ill will. You are the sister of our goddess, and she has commanded you be brought to her unharmed.”   “GODDESS?!” Celestia shouted, staggering back into one of the trees. “She is no goddess! She’s nothing but a delusional young child, one who’s given herself in to the embrace of darkness because of vanity and pride!”   Thorn shook his mane. “I know all too well about the pain of rivalry within a family, Princess. My own brother struck down my father in battle, and I in turn had to take his life, many moons ago.” He gave his mane a shake. If this didn’t work, he would never see his homeland again, let alone Equestria.   The major lowered his axe. “Princess, as a show of my sincerity, I…”   Thorn stopped. Behind him, he heard an animalistic growling, his nostrils catching the acrid scent of something he was all too familiar with.   “Oh, you little fool…”   He grabbed his axe and swung up, deflecting the blow from the warrior who had now lost all ability to distinguish between friend and foe. His eyes were glazed, smoking foam dripping from his mouth. The bloody idiot had done it, hadn’t he?   The young thestral let out a low laugh. “Blasphemy…” He took a deep breath and hissed. “Both of you, you filthy heretics, you dare to blaspheme our beloved goddess? I will take your lives in the name of Nightmare Moon!”   The major had seen this before, during his first battle with a neighbouring tribe. At the time, the use of stimulants had been readily accepted as a way to enhance a warrior’s strength, endurance, and reaction time. None had predicted the way their prolonged use would lead to addiction and eventual permanent psychosis. They’d been banned, of course, all the tribes agreeing on this single important issue. Every thestral knew of the danger, but some still sought it out, making their own in secret or buying it from those willing to risk execution if caught.   He should have realised the lad was a user back in Equestria. All the signs had been there; the impaired reason, the disregard for authority. Had Thorn’s mind become addled with age? He had to do what he could now, not just to stop the fool from killing the princess, but to protect his own life.   With a scream of rage, the young warrior threw himself at the princess. Thorn tried to block him but was smashed aside as if he were no more substantial than a breath of wind. He crashed into the ground, pulling himself back up in time to see the princess fighting for her life. Thorn bellowed and charged, his axe cleaving a gash through the young thestral’s armour, making him jump back and unleash a blast of fire right into the major’s face.   Thorn lifted his axe to shield himself from the flames, never seeing the upper swing of the incoming blow that sent him to his haunches. Pain lanced through him, making him grit his teeth. He’d tried to avoid killing the youth, but he had no choice now. The boy was gone, lost in a battle fury that wouldn’t end until he’d killed every living thing in sight. That was always the problem with those damned powders. How many had killed their own comrades because of their use?   The major refocused and hefted his axe. This was it then, was it? Thestrals killing their own once again?   He caught his breath and looked for Celestia. The princess was down, lying in the snow a few yards away, with her halberd lying beneath her. Was she dead? No, he could see her breathing despite the snow now coming down around them like rain, thick white rain, muffling everything beneath its gentle embrace.   The major forgotten, the young warrior advanced on the true object of his hatred. Lifting his axe high above his head, he bared his teeth and smiled sadistically. With a wordless cry, the axe descended.   Steel clashed against steel. Thorn threw his weight into the attack, throwing the other thestral’s blow clear of the downed alicorn. The younger warrior reared, shaken momentarily by the unexpected assault by his officer and turned to face him. Snarling in blind hatred, he lunged, swinging his weapon which Thorn barely dodged before he was able to press his own attack home.   The two wheeled around each other, trading blows. The younger thestral was fast, his youthful strength given an unnatural edge by the drugs flowing through his system. The major, himself toned through years of harsh life in the Beyond and countless battles, had experience on his side, and slowly, gradually, began to gain the upper hoof.   That experience now fought hoof to hoof with blind rage, steel flashing back and forth in the moonlight, until fate intervened. A rock, hidden beneath the snow, caused Thorn to stumble as he parried the last swing from his opponent. With a scream of triumph, the young warrior brought his axe down, smashing through the major’s helmet and slicing down the side of his face. Blinded by blood and pain, the major glimpsed his one chance of salvation lying half-buried in the snow, and crawled for it.   The younger warrior now made the worst mistake he could have made: he paused to gloat. “Ready to die, old one? I’ll finish you and take the bitch’s head back to our people a hero. I’ll have proved myself in battle, while your traitorous corpse can rot here in this hole.”   Thorn crawled painfully, slowly, across the ground. “And how do you think you’re going to get back there, boy? Know magic, do you?”   The other sneered, looking down his muzzle at the fallen form of his officer. “I’ll find a way, or our goddess will find me. Unlike you, I have faith in our divine princess.”   The major spat out blood on the snow. “Oh, I have faith in the goddess, boy, more than you know.”   Laughing the young warrior hefted his axe. “Pah! Look at you! Great Storm Major Thorn, hero of the Beyond.” He narrowed his eyes. “Crawling on the ground like the gutter rat you are.”   Thorn looked up at him, shaking his head in dismay. “That’s always been the problem with you children…” The other warrior cocked his head, his eyes suddenly going wide as he finally focused on the heavy crossbow held in the major’s hooves. “…You talk too much.” Thorn pulled the release lever.   With a loud thwack, the bolt flew straight and true, slamming into the chest of the other warrior. The stallion screamed in pain and tried to pull it out with his teeth. Thorn picked himself up and grabbed his axe, advancing on him. Grabbing the shaft in his teeth, the young one ripped out the bolt and backed away, blood trickling down his black coat. In an act of desperation, he blasted another gout of flame at Thorn before turning tail, fleeing into the darkness of the forest.   Silence fell.   Dropping his axe, Thorn sank to his haunches and hissed in pain. That damnable child! He’d nearly done him in. By the goddess’ grace, he was getting old. A few years ago he’d have taken that fool’s head in an instant, but now…now he could feel his years creeping up on him. In the Beyond, those who couldn’t fight didn’t last long. It was one of the hopes he had for the new order of things, to bring his people out of that endless cycle of blood and suffering, to show them the light of a new world.   And here, at his hooves, lay the key to it all. He looked down at her, the snow now beginning to cover the white mare completely. What was he to do? In his haste, he hadn’t thought about how he was going to get back home. Could he—   Something was coming.   Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of an animal approaching, something on two legs, not four. Whatever it was made an attempt at remaining quiet, but to his ears, it was a clear as a bell. Thorn cursed his luck. He was in no condition to fight now—his wounds were slowing him down and he was losing blood. Damn it! His prize was so close, but if he were to die now…   He made his decision. Hefting his axe, slowly, painfully, the major dragged himself off into the forest where he could observe the newcomer unseen. He reloaded the crossbow, sitting on his haunches and watched the clearing intently. If it looked like it would attack the princess, he would shoot. If not, well, if there was one thing he had in abundance, it was patience. He would have his prize, and the goddess would bestow upon him the greatest treasure of all… Her smile.