//------------------------------//
// Act II: Chapter Nineteen: Quiet as a Thunderclap, Part 2 
// Story: Innocent 
// by Puzzle Piece 
//------------------------------//

From the walls, Celestia watched her Pegasi wipe out the Troll siege crews and disable many of the machines, cutting the lines and splintering the beams. She nodded grimly at the victory. She turned back to the main body of the Troll forces as they crowded up to the walls. Ladders were raised and knocked down and raised again. The breach in the wall was being held stubbornly by Army lancers alongside Jason and Zacon to her right while Cor took sparing shots at those Trolls who seemed about to gain the heights.
Luna stood beside her still, concentrating on her coma-inducing spell. The mages launched volleys of magic into the enemy despite the exhausting rate they had maintained. The ponies on the walls steadfastly repelled each thrust the Trolls sent forward. Spears thrown by both sides raked the ramparts and base of the wall, taking their toll on defenders and attackers alike. The Trolls had lost half of their troops, but still they seemed determined to continue the attack.
Celestia sent a beam of searing light forth to cut a line of Trolls down before they could reach the wall, affording the defenders in that area a slight reprieve. A cry rose up suddenly, and her ears perked. It was distinct from the battle that raged around her in a way that she couldn’t quite place. She looked up and down the line, searching for its source. The cry came again, closer this time and she went cold to the bone. She turned to look back into the city and found smoke rising from the roofs of many buildings.

“Captain!” she shouted.

The panic evident in her voice brought Captain Gallant Lance to her side in an instant.

“Your Highness?” he asked.

“The city!” she managed as her eyes darted about, revealing her desperate internal search for a plan.

Now the urgency of her words cut through even to Luna. The younger monarch released her spell and turned to her sister.

“What has happened?”

Celestia grasped at words before forcing herself back under control. “The city is under attack. I don’t know how they got in but I know how they’ll get out. You two must hold the line here. I will take troops into the city to eliminate the infiltrators.”

The Captain took a critical look at the city and stopped Celestia as she spread her wings. “You’ll need more than a squad of lancers, Highness. Luna should go as well. I can command the walls.”

“No,” Luna said slowly, turning to look farther down the wall. “Bring them,” she said, indicating Jason and Zacon where they still held the breach against waves of Trolls.

“Them?” the Captain asked skeptically. “Are you sure they will be enough?”

“We waste time!” Celestia snapped. “Do what you must, send whom you can. I’m going!”

She took off without another word, winging away into the streets. Luna didn’t spare a second, giving her orders even as she lifted off.

“You will command the walls from here, Captain. Send Lieutenant Cor to me at the breach. I will send the other two into the city and take their place at the front.”

She waited for the Captain to nod before streaking off. As Luna passed over the wall, her gaze swept the field. The victims of her spell were free and some shakily pushed themselves back to their feet. But some lay still, their eyes staring ahead unseeing. The nightmare she’d induced had overwhelmed them with terror. The strain had been enough to kill many of them. The rest were visibly disturbed as they searched around for their weapons and tried to rejoin the battle.
Luna circled the breach in the wall, descending to land. She saw that the pony lancers had pushed out from the breach and were holding a line at the edge of the river moat. Additional ponies had formed a half circle on the inside of the wall in case any Trolls pushed past the lancers. With the breach in the wall, the Trolls were using their ladders to bridge the waters. Luna blasted a section of their crossing as she landed, sending the nearby Trolls into the water and swiftly over the edge. Their fearful cries faded away, lost beneath the continuing sounds of battle.

“Stand fast, ponies of Equestria!” she shouted, taking a place beside one of the lancers and fending off a Troll with a slash of her horn.

All around her, ponies closed ranks. Those who had begun to back away held their ground. The lancers fought with renewed vigor at the sight of the Princess at the head of the battle. Her dark grace was a beacon to them and the Trolls were soon being pushed off of the narrow ribbon of land they had gained at the base of the wall. There was a brief lull in the fighting while the Trolls regrouped and the ponies took the opportunity to step back and rest. Luna, Jason and Zacon migrated closer as they prepared for the next push.

“Princess,” Jason acknowledged. 

Zacon allowed himself to look away from the milling enemy lines just across the moat long enough to give Luna a nod and smile his approval at her being there. His armor was slicked with gore and his muzzle was a mask of blood. He was not visibly injured, though Luna knew that appearances meant little with this warrior.
Jason was breathing heavily. His leather armor was cut in numerous places and though he was covered in Troll blood, Luna could tell that some of the stains were from his own injuries. She briefly considered asking after his condition but he smiled at her encouragingly and she discarded the idea.

“Lieutenants,” she began, looking at the Trolls again to see how much time she had to explain. “The enemy has deceived us. They have found a way into the city and are running rampant in the streets. I will take up your positions here. You must follow my sister and aid her in repelling them. Take the troops just inside the wall. I will make sure they are not missed here.”

Zacon’s already stern expression reached a new level of severity and he cast a withering glare in the Troll’s direction. Jason’s mouth dropped open at the news but he shut it quickly and saluted. They were both just turning back toward the walls when a catapult round fell from the sky. It struck Zacon broadside and exploded against his armor. He was driven into the wall by the force of the impact, knocking his head against it and causing several bricks to fall broken beside him. Luna and Jason froze, staring at his still form. There was a twang from above them.

“You bastards!” Cor yelled from atop the wall. “I’ve had enough of your damn rocks!”

Cor dexterously navigated the rubble around the breach and slid to a stop next to the fallen warrior. He checked his vitals and grunted. He spun around and yelled back at the offending Trolls, shaking his hoof.

“I’d flip you off if I still had fingers!”

The Troll catapult responded by exploding from Cor’s arrow. Cor spat in their direction and turned to Jason.

“He’s out cold. I can’t tell how bad it is, but it looks like the armor took the worst of it.”

“I’ll be going alone then,” Jason said with a glance at the Troll line. “There’s still too many of them out here for either of you to take his place.”

Luna nodded in agreement. Cor ordered a lancer to carry Zacon back inside the walls as he and Luna turned to meet the Trolls who were surging across the moat again. Jason took off into the city. He called to the ponies waiting inside the wall and sent them to search the streets and clear them of Troll troops. He made directly for the central boulevard. At each intersection, he threw a glance down the adjoining streets. He caught occasional glimpses of the Army ponies with him racing up parallel streets and civilians running in the opposite direction. All at once, he didn’t have to search for his enemy.
A cluster of Trolls stepped out into his path and headed straight for him. His black blade flashed as he sent it darting ahead of him. Two went down before he got to them and he slid under their blades as he dove into their midst. His blade carved through the air around him and Trolls fell howling in pain. The keen edge of the wakizashi cut without resistance, neither armor nor body slowing it as it arced and turned in Jason's telekinetic grip. As the last Troll fell beside him, Jason saw two more groups of Trolls converging on him from the streets to either side.
He picked one of the groups and headed for it. He circled around the Trolls as he got close, letting his sword dance between them. The Trolls tried to spread out to box him in, but they only managed to make themselves easier to pick off. When the second group caught up to him, Jason spied two more groups of Trolls shuffling into view. As they turned toward him as well, Jason let out a sigh of exasperation.

“It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”

He stood his ground as the Trolls charged, axes and spears held high.

~*~*~

Celestia glided through the streets, searching for enemy forces and striking with bolts from her horn where she found them. Ponies ran and cowered in the shadows as buildings burned. Cries of terror and pain rose up from every quarter. Each one stung her mind separately. She homed in on a cluster of Trolls and slammed into them just as they saw her descending on them. Most were dead before they could raise their weapons. The last few died when she lifted off and shot a beam back at them.

Every Troll I slay is a pony that is saved.

More screams came from the street to her right and she banked toward them.

Every second that passes, I am too late for another.

The wind ripped tears from her cheeks as she sped onward.

~*~*~

“Come away from that window.”

The servant cast one last fearful glance outside before obeying.

“You have important work to attend to, after all,” Prince Blueblood went on. He continued down the hall without looking to see if the servant had stayed with him.

“Aren’t you worried about the battle?” the servant asked apprehensively.

“Not in the least,” he replied without a second’s hesitation. “Why should I need to bother myself with such things? The Guard will handle it as they should, leaving me free to get on with my own pressing concerns.”

“What about those in the fighting?” she persisted. “Don’t you worry about their safety? I had heard that the battle a few days ago didn’t go very well at all. What if this battle turns out poorly too?”

“I’m growing tired of this subject,” the Prince said, starting to sound mildly annoyed. “I’ll hear no more of it.”

“But…?”

“No. I forbid you from speaking to me of it.”

The servant bit her tongue to keep herself from objecting. Blueblood watched her briefly to be sure she would obey before nodding and continuing on his way.

“Now, I think I’ll head down to the kitchens. It isn’t quite noon but I’m feeling peckish.”

A group of ponies burst around the corner suddenly and pressed themselves against a nearby window. They buzzed with nervous chatter as they gazed down at the city. None of them paid the Prince the slightest bit of attention until he had cleared his throat loudly several times.

“What’s all this nonsense about?” he asked when most of them had turned their attention to him. “Don’t you all have duties to tend to?”

Many of the servants exchanged glances of disbelief.

“Haven’t you noticed? The Trolls are in the city,” one of the servants said, pointing out the window.

Blueblood stepped over to the window and looked out at the city for the first time that day. He gasped at the sight of smoke rising from many buildings, not only near the wall but just outside the palace as well. Ponies could be seen running here and there in the streets below him as the lumbering figures of Trolls gave chase.

“How did they get so close?” he asked without looking away.

“We don’t know,” one of the servants replied. “We could still see ponies on the walls a few minutes ago. Now the smoke is too thick.”

“I don’t think they came in from the wall,” another servant suggested nervously. “The fires started in the north side of the city.”

“I want somepony to find out,” Blueblood said without specifying how he expected anypony to do so.

None of them were paying any attention to him anyway. Instead, they paid attention to the sound of pounding from the front hall. Blueblood approached and peered down the grand stairs at the main doors. All ten of the Guards still stationed at the palace stood side by side before the doors, weapons held at the ready. The servants behind the Prince watched with growing apprehension as the door shuddered beneath heavy blows. With a splintering crack, the door burst open and a pair of Trolls shouldered their way in. Many more Trolls shuffled in behind them. Blueblood let out a yelp of fear at the sight of bloody weapons in their hands.
He pointed his hoof at the Trolls and shouted to the Guards.

“They can’t be here! Get them out!”

The Guards didn’t even glance at him as they braced their spears in a line against the Trolls. The Trolls gathered around the door, preparing to attack. As the seconds passed, more Trolls could be seen converging on the palace gates from the streets outside. One of the servants jumped forward and shouted at the Guards as well.

“Don’t just stand there! Run!”

One of the Guards glanced back at her with concern. He leaned over to the Sergeant that led them and whispered something. The Sergeant considered his words carefully and then nodded grudgingly. He gave a signal and the Guards began shifting to one side. The Sergeant gestured to Blueblood and the servants around him, motioning for them to move behind the Guards to safety. One of the servants noticed that Blueblood hadn’t moved and pulled him with them.
As the servants began moving down the stairs toward a side door, the Trolls realized what they intended and rushed to stop them from retreating. The Guards surged into their path to give the others time to escape. Two Guards went down almost instantly, including the Sergeant, and eight Trolls fell beside them. The Guards began giving ground right away and didn’t stop, forcing the servants to break into a run to make it through the door and into the corridors beyond.
Blueblood risked a glance back as he passed through the door and gagged at the sight of a Guard nearly decapitated by a Troll axe. He whimpered as he ran. The remaining Guards thundered in behind them, followed closely by the Trolls. The slower Trolls lost ground on the galloping ponies but they remained in view. Rounding a corner, one of the servants pulled open a door and gestured for everypony to follow.

“There’s a way out of the palace down this way! We can lose them…”

He was cut off as he ran headlong into a second group of Trolls. He looked up and gulped as the lead Troll realized what had run into him. The Troll brought his axe down and the servant dropped. The others gapped at his body before turning and bolting farther down the main corridor. The Trolls gave chase and were broadsided by the Guards who were just catching up. Two more Guards went down as they pushed through. The race through the halls dragged on with more Trolls pouring in from adjacent halls. The Guards were now in full retreat behind the Prince and the servants, all of whom were running blindly.
All at once, their panic-stricken flight was brought up short. The hall ended in a door; a door Blueblood knew led to a dead-end room.

So that’s where they got the name ‘dead-end’. The thought crossed his mind irrationally and was gone in an instant.

The servants came to the same realization and turned to him for direction. The Guards staggered to a halt between the advancing Trolls and the cornered ponies. They reformed their line, though there were only five left. The Trolls didn’t hesitate as they barreled into them. It didn’t take long to see that the Guards would not hold them.

“Somepony do something!” Blueblood shouted to no one in particular.

The servants glanced around and then back at him as they realized they were the only ones capable of responding to his plea. None of them moved. Some even looked outraged at him for a moment before panic took hold again. Blueblood’s mind raced as he considered his diminishing options. One door, back the way they’d come, would lead him to safety. In their panic, they’d passed by it, intent on putting distance between themselves and the Trolls, spurred on by the fallen servant behind them. The door was now mere feet behind where the Guards were holding. He realized he wasn’t likely to make it through before the Trolls caught him. Blueblood also realized it was their only way out.

“That door leads to a way out,” he said, pointing.

The servants saw where he indicated and some of them paled in fear. By this time, only two guards stood between them and the advancing trolls.

“Strider!” one of the servants shouted desperately.

It was the same servant that had told them to run before. Blueblood recognized that it was also the same Guard that responded. Private Lean Strider if he was remembering correctly.
Private Strider threw a glance over his shoulder and saw her pointing wildly at the door. He turned back to a Troll that was lunging at him and felled it with his spear. He looked at the door again and suddenly understood what she had meant. He made a gesture for them to make a run for it.
With a nod to his comrade, Private Strider held his weapon defiantly before him. Neither he nor the Pegasus beside him even considered taking the escape route. They stood side by side and faced the enemy. The servants made for the door with Blueblood in tow. As they reached the door, the servant who kept shouting paused to watch the battle.
Strider swung his spear in a wide arc that took the feet out from under the first Troll that reached him and brought it back around to skewer the next. Before he could pull his weapon free, more Trolls bore down on him. He shot one back with his horn’s magic but the rest were too close.
The Pegasus leapt into them and bought time for his comrade to ready himself. With a cut to either side, two Trolls fell. Another wave stepped forward and attacked. He lifted off, did a somersault in the air and dove into them again. He landed on them, sending them sprawling across the floor. He finished three where they lay before they got back to their feet. As he tried to take to the air again, the Pegasus was grabbed and hauled down. He turned back on them with a harsh cry, and in a flurry of feathers and blood, he took three more Trolls with him in death.
Strider dove atop the pile in a vain attempt to drag him free. He managed to reach the fallen Guard by hacking madly with his spear and a discarded axe. He pulled him back with his hooves and kept fighting with his horn. The Pegasus’ flank was pierced by an array of weapons and blood poured from a gash in his neck. After a short pause in which it became clear nothing could be done for the Pegasus, Strider discarded the body and turned to fight with renewed vengeance.
Blueblood threw a glance down the side hall. He saw that the others were making their way but the Trolls would be able to give chase in just a moment. The servant, Neat Keeper was her name, was still staring at the battle, frozen in the doorway. She wasn’t going to have time to escape if she didn’t get moving. He wouldn’t either if she didn’t get out of his way. That was the moment he remembered the Guards. In the span of a breath, an insight flashed through his mind. 
Only one Guard remained, but even then, he wasn’t trying to escape. He was buying every second he could for them to run. Blueblood was still trying to run when they had already decided that they would not. They were Guards and he was a Prince, it was true. It was their duty to protect him. But Celestia and Luna were Princesses and his aunt and her sister never stood behind Guards to protect Equestria. They loved all of their little ponies so dearly that they would put themselves in danger before allowing their troops to do so. The Princesses guarded all ponies, even the Guards. And he was a Prince.
Blueblood bowed his head and turned to Keeper.

“You need to run. Now.”

She was shaken from her shocked state at the sound of his voice, not only because of the fact that he’d spoken, but also the soft and compelling tone. She detected some change in him and it drew her attention like a beacon.

“What?” Then she caught his choice of words. “Wait, what about you?”

“The rest of you need time to escape. I am your Prince, and so I will defend you.”

He turned back to the fighting. Strider held three Trolls just out of reach with the pole of a halberd while they clawed and swung at him. Straining against their combined weight, he squeezed his eyes shut in the effort to raise a second axe. He swung and it sank into the thick neck of one of the Trolls, nearly taking its head off. It slumped against the pole and fell. The other two threw themselves at the other side of the pole and caused the Unicorn to lose his grip on the off-balance weapon.
Bereft of a weapon, he brought raw magic to bear. Bolts of silver energy scorched the hides of the Trolls, burning away fur and flesh. The wounds were cauterized and did not bleed but they left deep holes in the body and smoke trailed from them as they fell. His horn blazed with light and the air crackled with energy.
One Troll charged from behind the others and through the hail of magic, lifting a massive hammer and sweeping the Private aside. He hit the wall and slumped to the floor. As he tried to rise, the hammer came down and crushed his skull.

“STRIDER!” Keeper wailed in despair.

Blueblood swallowed thickly but his mind was made up.

“He made his choice and now I make mine. Run!” he ordered, shoving her down the hall. “I will hold them off.”

His horn lit up and every weapon on the ground rattled into the air and took position on either side of the Prince, their blades directed at the enemy. Suddenly faced with more weapons than they had soldiers, the Trolls halted. They eyed this new fighter warily, trying to measure the danger he posed. Keeper finally tore her eyes away from Strider’s body and dashed down the hall.
Seeing their prey escaping, the Trolls overcame their doubts and charged. Blueblood heaved forward and sent all of the weapons at them at once. The Trolls halted again in surprise and some flinched visibly under the hail. Half of the weapons missed entirely and clattered to the floor. Most of those that hit hardly left noticeable cuts in the hides of the Trolls. One lucky shot with a spear brought a Troll to his knees, howling and grasping at his face where his eye had been.
They looked at the weapons around them and then at Blueblood in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. The Prince bit back his fear and drew the weapons to him once more. This time, he threw them one at a time, one after the other. Because he wasn’t spreading his strength over so many weapons, this tactic had greater effect.
The first Troll went down laughing. Blood choked his mirth as his throat was split open. The others took him seriously then and charged with as much vigor as they had shown the Guards. One went down and then another. The first one to get to him died running and fell behind him. Blueblood pushed forward every spear he held and braced them to halt the Trolls. Two bodies were pressed into the spearheads and hung limp as the others pushed past. They were too close now to throw the weapons, so Blueblood picked a large sword and swung it back and forth with all the strength he had.
When the first Troll blade bit into him, he nearly dropped the sword in shock. Gritting his teeth, he responded with wider swings. His fear disappeared with the certainty of what would come next and his thoughts focused in on one solitary idea.

I am the Prince. I will stand against the enemies of Equestria. I will stand beside her soldiers and if need be, fall beside them.

A blow to the leg brought him to the ground but his sword still cut swaths in his attackers.

I am the Prince. I will defend my ponies. I will be their shield against evil and harm.

He was struck again and again, and each time, he renewed his conviction that he would not give in. His injuries started to blend together as the pain engulfed his whole body.

I am the Prince. I will not allow my home to be overrun. I will not just let them take it.

Blood began running into his eyes, blinding him. He poured his last ounce of concentration into the weapon he continued to wave defiantly over his head. He felt his connection to the sword grow dim and he knew he was losing it. The rest of his body, once on fire with pain, had ceased to report to him on its status.

I am the Prince. I will make my country proud of me. I will make my Aunt proud.

It took him a long time to realize that he was only swinging his sword in thought. It had fallen to the floor beside him some time earlier. It took another moment to realize he was alone in the hall. He could not see for all the blood in his eyes but there was no sound around him. He couldn’t tell if they had left him for dead, as he supposed they had, or if he had against the odds managed to kill them all.
He drew a breath that rattled in his lungs. He was vaguely aware of the weapons left in his side and the warmth of his blood spreading onto the floor around him. His body was cold and broken but his heart was full and warm. He could almost see Aunt Celestia’s face beaming down at him, telling him that he had done well. He drew another, weaker breath. His thoughts crystallized as he forced himself to speak.

“I…am…the Prince.”

His head fell against the body beside him and his chest stopped its weak attempt to supply him with oxygen. Frozen on his face was the most genuine smile he’d ever displayed.

~*~*~

Jason had been on the verge of being overwhelmed when the ponies of the Army converged on him and swept the Trolls back. Now he fought beside them to drive the Trolls into full retreat. They pushed up the main street and into a plaza. From all around, he could see Trolls setting fire to buildings or storming through the doors and attacking anypony they found inside. As the fighting carried on, most of the Trolls were attracted to the battle. Jason was grimly thankful that they were turning away from the civilians but he also knew that the troops with him wouldn’t be able to fight forever.
A flash of light soared over his head and the ground was blown out from under a group of Trolls rushing to join the fight. Celestia landed and shot another sweeping beam that left Trolls writhing on the ground from the burns. Trolls still closed in on them from all sides and Jason was taken aback by how many there still were. He’d thought their forces concentrated at the walls but now he guessed nearly a quarter of them had found their way into the city by another route.
Only after Jason had moved to fight nearer to Celestia did he see that she was weeping openly as she fought. It was a strange mix of expressions that he saw on her face. There was fierce anger as she closed in on her victims, disgust and revulsion when they fell and a palpable despair underlying it all. Jason felt a mix of emotion surface in himself at the sight. Vengeance that heated his insides like a drink of boiling water tried to break past his mental restraints while sympathy for the Princess pierced his heart. A chill of determination ran up his spine at the thought of the ponies that were still in danger. All of this masked the pain of his injuries and he pushed on.
Weapons clashed and screams of pain filled the air for what seemed like hours as he, the Princess and some sixty Army ponies cleared the streets of Canterlot block by block. Still, Jason knew it hadn’t been nearly that long. The sun was still high in the sky for one. And for another, he was aware of his perception growing fuzzy. He’d used his mana to warp the fabric of time so often that he’d begun to lose track of how long he’d been fighting. Every time he slowed down his enemies, it was as if he was running twice as hard in the same distance. Each enemy represented another investment of his endurance.
He had been reduced to walking to conserve energy for the actual fighting when he found himself before the palace. Their Army companions filed up behind them. Only thirty were left from their bloody journey across the city. They waited for orders, taking the moment of stillness to catch their breath. The fighting had died down around them and some of the fires were being brought under control by weather ponies that had emerged from their hiding places. Most of the sounds of combat came from the direction of the wall and they seemed to be fading as well.
Celestia landed next to Jason and gasped at the sight of the broken doors. She leapt through the doorway and landed in the front hall. Jason followed her in and the Army ponies trailed after. They held their weapons ready and looked every way for signs of the enemy. Instead they found Celestia walking amongst the bodies that lay across the hall. Three Guards were sprawled next to fifteen Trolls. Jason noted the badge of a Sergeant on one of the ponies. The battle seemed to be almost an hour old.

When Zacon gets a load of their ratios, he’ll flip.

Jason considered sharing his thought with Celestia as some kind of encouragement but he could tell that now would be a bad time.

“They tried to hold the Trolls here,” Celestia muttered to herself, indicating the flow of the battle with her hoof. “They moved off this way.”

She walked toward an open door to one side. Jason hesitated in following her long enough to tell the others to spread out in groups of five and search for survivors, both friend and foe. Jason had to run to catch up with the Princess. She was walking with an urgency that he hadn’t seen in her before.

“Why this way?” she continued to mutter distractedly. “Why would they go this way? Unless…”

She came to a servant, dead in a doorway beside two more Guards and five more Trolls. She stared at the servant, her mouth forming words that no sounds accompanied. She began walking again, this time as if drawn ahead but fearful of what she would find.

“The Guards didn’t run. They followed.”

Celestia was wide-eyed and staring as she walked and muttered. Jason was becoming worried for her. She was looking for something specific. Her concern for the safety of these other ponies was being dwarfed by some greater need.  Judging from her previous reactions to the deaths of her followers, it must be immensely important to her. Jason went cold at the thought of what could possibly do this to her.

“The others were running…trying to get out. Was he…? Of course he would be with them. He had to be. They got him out. They would have made sure to get him…”

They rounded a corner and Celestia halted in mid step. She didn’t move for a long time. Jason walked until he stood beside her. When he saw what had stopped her, he let out a low whistle. More Troll bodies choked the hall. He made a quick count and came up with fifty. Five Guards lay amongst them. Just behind the Guards, as if warding the doorway in which he had fallen, was a white Unicorn with a blond mane.
His clothes were not those of a Guard. His grey silk collar and blue bowtie resting on his chest looked more fitting for a noble, even stained and torn. His once well-groomed mane complimented that assumption. A small assortment of weapons lay scattered beside him. One longsword, stained in Troll blood, seemed to have been used most. Fifteen Trolls had died between where the last Guard had fallen and where this Unicorn was. He seemed to have held the door alone. Jason approached the door and looked beyond. At a glance, he could tell no Trolls had passed through the door. There was so much blood on the floor that they would have left prints.
Celestia at last broke past her shock and walked over to the fallen noble. Jason stepped aside to let her pass. She knelt beside him and nuzzled his cheek.

“Blueblood, my foalish little Prince. Why did you stay?”

She traced the smile that haunted his face with a hoof, her brows scrunching up in thought. She looked around as if searching for something that was missing. She then looked at the remains of the battle. Turning back to Blueblood’s body, she smiled sadly. She leaned close to him, whispering in his ear.

“Did you do this? Were you trying to be brave?” She wiped the blood away and stroked his mane, brushing it back from his face and tucking it behind his ears again. “You always try so hard.”

She looked down the hall, recognizing it as a way to escape. No Troll had made it past him. He had chosen to stand his ground here. There could be no other reason for it: He had done it to protect others so they could escape.

“You tried to be like the Guards, didn’t you? So selfless, so dutiful. So unlike yourself.” She hugged his limp form close and wrapped him in her wings. “My lovely Prince. My dear nephew, I love you so.”

Her shoulders shook with her sobs, though the hall was silent. Jason stood still. He was witnessing a hallowed moment and he was not about to interrupt. He sheathed his blade and sat down where he was. He occupied himself by tracing the battle across the hall and confirming his body count. The Guards had indeed held this position to keep that door open to whoever had been trying to escape. Jason had never heard of this Prince Blueblood. From the sound of it, he’d shown an uncharacteristic amount of bravery by standing his ground.
Thinking of Princes, Jason remembered the battle still raging at the wall. He tried to think of a subtle way to remind Celestia that she couldn’t stay here, but was spared the necessity when she found her own way back to the present. She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Standing, she nodded to Jason and started back the way they came.

“What about those who made it out?” Jason asked as he got up to follow. “Should we try to find them?”

Celestia shook her head. “If they got away, they will be found after the battle.”

They walked back to the main hall and found the Army ponies waiting for them. They were joined by an assortment of servants and castle staff. Most bowed to Celestia when she entered the hall but she gestured for them to rise immediately. She ordered the Army ponies to stay in the palace and guard the servants while she returned to the battle. Jason followed her out and into the streets once again. They set off on the ground at a quick trot, headed for the walls.

~*~*~

When that new Lieutenant came running back from the breach in the walls, shouting for the Army ponies to follow him into the city, Lyra had at first complied. He was an officer after all. But she also recognized him as one of those three strange ponies. This fact gave her pause. He and the other two had been introduced a day back as some sort of visiting soldiers. Anypony who walked into a war and was hoofed a command was suspect. Add that to what she knew, or at least suspected about them, and she was less than eager to go running off under their order.
She slowed up after a block and allowed the others to get ahead of her. When nopony was watching, she slipped down a side road and made her way on her own. It sounded to her as if there was trouble in the city but she didn’t care to charge off looking for it. Actually, she believed the trouble would find her. If they had gotten troops into the city, the first thing the Trolls were likely to do would be to find a way for the rest of their army to join them. That meant opening the gates, attacking the walls from behind, or drawing enough ponies from the walls for them to overwhelm the remaining defenses. This last possibility seemed to have come to pass as the reserves thundered away toward the city’s center.
But equally possible was the use of multiple tactics. With the reserves out of the picture, the walls would be especially vulnerable to an attack from the rear. If they managed to gain the gatehouse or pin the Army on the walls, they would be able to wipe out the defenders in minutes. Lyra doubled back to check the streets leading to the walls. She kept her sword ready and she scanned for danger at every corner. Still, no Trolls appeared. She was beginning to have doubts about her instincts when she caught a glimpse of a Troll shuffling down a side street a block away. She gave chase immediately.
It took her a minute but she finally caught him as he reached an intersection. With a yell, she plunged her sword into his back. It sank in to the hilt and stuck. The Troll gurgled in surprise and toppled forward, landing at the feet of three more Trolls who were standing just around the corner. Lyra gulped and realized she was alone. She yanked on her sword with telekinesis but it refused to budge. As the Trolls lunged at her, she grabbed instead for the spear in one’s hand. She twisted it free from his surprised grip and twirled it around to stab him in the thigh.
He went down, tripping another Troll. Lyra pulled that Troll’s axe away and swung it down on the back of his neck, killing him instantly. She tried to grab the last Troll’s axe but he was ready for her. She managed to keep him from swinging as he took hold with both hands to prevent her from taking it. She pulled the spear again and stabbed him in the gut. He went down, clutching the shaft. She took his axe then and hacked the first Troll back to the ground as he attempted to rise.
She stood over her defeated opponents, breathing hard. Her heart pounded in her chest, sending cool adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was an incredible feeling! She felt more alive now than she ever had before. She was more alive than she’d ever been before. She had bested these Trolls all by herself and earned life while they had been dealt death. She almost laughed.
The thrill faded as she watched their blood spread across the cobblestones. Her victory dulled into a sickening reminder that she was the lucky one. Many ponies hadn’t survived their encounters with Trolls. By thinking she’d earned life made it feel as if they’d all been somehow inadequate. The thought tormented her briefly but she was able to push it to the back of her mind for now.
She tried to pull her sword free again but it stubbornly resisted her. The spear had been broken when the Troll had fallen on it. She was left with the axe. She wasn’t fond of its brutality but she grudgingly admitted to its effectiveness. Moving on, she kept looking for Trolls who might be trying to get the jump on the defenders at the wall.
A desperate cry for help caught her attention and Lyra sprinted toward the source. She found herself in the fields on the eastern edge of the city where the Army had set up its camp. The cries were coming from the medical tents. She saw several ponies running from that area, some of them bandaged from the previous battle and limping away as best they could. Lyra looked around for the cause of their flight but couldn’t see any Trolls. She followed the screams until she saw which tent they were coming from. The words became clear as she approached and she began to hear a second voice with them.

“Somepony help!” the pony called.

“Yes, keep calling,” the guttural voice replied. “They all ran off, but maybe one of them will come back and join you. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Please, anypony!”

“Mmm, it’s a symphony in my ears. Your desperation is beautiful.”

The pony screamed in pain. “Sweet Celestia, please!”

Lyra burst through the canvas screen, axe held at the ready. The long medical tent was deserted except for two figures. Goldengrape lay prone, his legs broken and one pinned to the ground by a cruelly hooked spear. The other figure knelt over him, twisting one of Goldengrape’s broken limbs. The Troll looked over at Lyra mildly. His bluish fur stood out in the darker interior of the tent, giving his agile body a faint surreal glow.

“Golden!” she gasped.

Goldengrape looked up at Lyra with relief.

“It appears one of your friends does want to play,” the Troll said mockingly. “Just as well. I was growing bored with you.”

He pulled his spear from Goldengrape’s leg and rammed it through his skull. Lyra let out a helpless yelp as Goldengrape’s eyes went wide and then dulled. The Troll pulled the spear free again and rounded on her.

“Come here little mare,” he taunted. “I want to play a game with you.”

Lyra’s growl of anger became a scream as she charged the Troll, tears and rage blurring the edges of her vision. The Troll sidestepped her first swing and parried the second. He locked his spear and the head of her axe together and twisted. Her grip on the weapon broke and it bounced across the floor. She rushed in close, ripped at his spear with her telekinesis and threw punches with her hooves. He held his spear firmly with one hand and backhanded her away. She rolled for several feet before regaining her hooves. He closed in on her slowly, taking his time and smiling all the while.
She picked up a chair from beside one of the beds and held it before her protectively. At the same time, she took hold of the axe again. It was behind the Troll now and she hoped that her grip on the chair would disguise the glow of her horn as she went for the other weapon. The Troll continued to approach slowly and confidently as she raised the axe higher. She was just about to strike when he noticed how she hadn’t moved to fight or run. He rolled to the side instinctively and the axe thudded into the ground.

“Oh ho!” he chortled. “A tricky one.”

He grabbed hold of the axe, preventing her from retrieving it again. Lyra cast about wildly for anything she could use. She looked at the chair momentarily before sending it at the Troll. He hooked it with the axe before it could collide with his face and smashed it against the ground, causing it to splinter into fragments. His smile faltered as he saw her grinning back. Lyra picked up the two legs that remained intact and one of the jagged fragments of the seat. She stared him down with the three improvised weapons held ready.

“Very tricky,” he said slowly.

He began circling to one side and she shifted with him. She struck out at him, trying to stab his leg with the jagged end of one of the legs while slashing at his midsection with the fragment. He dodged away from the first and deflected the second, spinning and lashing out with his spear. Lyra turned aside and avoided the brunt of the attack. The spear cut across her side and up her shoulder instead of her throat.
She let out a cry of pain and growled at him again. She found him lunging already. The axe was held high over his head and coming down fast. She thrust the other chair leg out and caught him in the armpit. His arm reflexively retracted to protect the soft point and the axe missed her. She attempted to roll aside and was knocked sprawling as he landed. She quickly came to her hooves again and pulled her three weapons back to her.
The Troll flexed his arm with a grimace but didn’t appear injured. Lyra however felt warmth trickling down her side as the cut on her side bled. She backed away again. The Troll didn’t give her time to come up with another plan. He rushed straight at her with his spear lowered. She thrust out again with her weapons, but he pivoted, causing her attacks to strike his back. Her wooden weapons failed to penetrate his hide and he swept out with his spear again as he turned back to her.
She threw herself backward and the spear sailed just over her head with a deadly whistle. Now she was on her back and looking up at the Troll who was standing mere feet from her. That was when she spotted a pair of surgical knives lying on a nearby table. With a desperate effort, she whipped them at the Troll. He was forced to back away, shielding his face with one arm. She scrambled up and away from him, collecting her improvised weapons and now the two knives. She was having trouble keeping all five of the items in her grip but she couldn’t bear to part with any small measure of protection.
The Troll inched toward her cautiously. He jabbed once with his spear and then again, while she turned it aside with the chair legs. All at once, he lunged forward and swung the axe around at her side. She blocked it with the chair fragment, and while it shattered into bits, she managed to prevent the attack from connecting. She stabbed out with her knives and both buried themselves in his arm. He dropped the axe with a howl and backed away. Lyra scooped up the axe and attacked. He batted it aside with his spear but she pressed in on him with repeated swings.
Even injured, he was able to stand his ground, deftly blocking and parrying her flurry of blows. They raged back and forth across the tent, neither giving the other an adequate opening to end the fight. But as the fight wore on, Lyra felt herself weakening. The Troll on the other hand appeared to have stamina to spare. Soon she was gasping for breath and stumbling through her stances. It was just as she was sure he would push his advantage and end it that she heard the sound of ponies approaching. She glanced toward her reinforcements as hope surged through her.
While she was distracted, the Troll lashed out. Not expecting his reach to be so long, she wasn’t prepared for the end of his spear to clip her horn. Her magic sputtered out and her weapons dropped to the floor. The Troll kicked her in the chest and bore her to the ground with his foot. He stood over her with the head of the spear poised over her heart. Eyes wide, she expected death to claim her then. But the stroke never fell. Instead, he sneered at her and spoke.

“Not this time, little mare. I don’t have time to fully enjoy your death today.”

He glanced in the direction of the approaching ponies and turned away. He slashed open the side of the tent and was gone in a blink. Lyra stared at the gap in the canvas in disbelief. Her heart pounded, reminding her that she was, in fact, still alive. She stayed on the ground and cried silently, still unable to look away from the light streaming through the side of the tent. Ponies cried out in alarm and she heard them giving chase to her assailant. She remained in shock until somepony came to investigate the tent for survivors.

~*~*~

Jason couldn’t run as fast as he wanted to and not nearly fast enough to catch this Troll. In fact, no Troll he’d seen so far had been able to move this quickly. His agile steps carried him away from his pursuers as if they didn’t have four legs to his two. He wove through the streets, heading west and staying roughly parallel with the wall. Jason couldn’t figure out where he could be going since the wall was still held by the Army and no other way out of the city existed. No other that he knew of anyway.
He suddenly remembered that they hadn’t discovered how they’d gotten into the city in the first place. Jason put an extra effort into closing the gap. He finally caught up as the Troll mounted the low wall that lined the edge of the cliffs of the city. Jason slowed to a walk as he closed in on his quarry. A contingent of ponies arrived behind Jason and spread out to surround the Troll. The Troll, for his part, didn’t seem altogether perturbed at being cornered.
He looked over the edge and then smiled back at the ponies. Without any words, he toppled over the side. Jason ran forward and looked down. The Troll had jumped into one of the waterfalls that ran off the mountainside and was descending in it to the base of the cliff. Jason watched him all the way down, already too far away to stop him. When he hit the water, Jason held his breath. At the sight of the Troll bobbing back to the surface and swimming for the shore, he slammed his hoof on the wall.

“Damn it! He survived.”

He turned away and marched back toward the wall to meet up with the others. When he arrived, he found Cor, Celesita and Luna standing idly inside the walls, talking softly. When they saw him, Cor waved him over.

“I take it you mopped up the stragglers back there?” Cor asked.

“I did, more or less. One escaped down the waterfalls.”

Cor frowned at that but the Princesses dismissed it.

“Then the battle is over,” Celestia said.

Jason looked around at the walls questioningly.

“The enemy fled some time before your return,” Luna explained. “Their numbers had been reduced enough that continuing the assault would have been foolhardy.”

“As for those inside the wall,” Celestia added. “We have eliminated them all.”

They all walked up onto the walls and looked out at the killing fields beyond. Trolls lay thickly, especially near the river moat. Jason knew there were thousands of bodies. But as he looked up and down the walls, he saw many ponies sprawled in death as well. Turning back to the city, he knew that the streets were littered with more of the dead. Smoke obscured the sun as it descended toward the distant horizon. He sensed that the end of this war was just as hidden from them. Even standing here, beside the Princesses, at the top of the walls that they had just successfully defended, he knew that nothing was finished.