//------------------------------// // Chapter 6 // Story: Sparkle Day // by Potential Albatross //------------------------------// There wasn’t much to see from Cirrus’ bow; sheets of heavy rain and the dark clouds from which they issued cut visibility to a minimum. To starboard, a vague shadow suggested the presence of Nimbus. The rest of the fleet, including the naval contingent braving the rough waves of Baltimare Bay far below, was fully obscured, though Celestia knew they were out there. All this was her design. If Celestia had to be blind, so too did her adversaries, if not in all the same ways. Those adversaries, last spotted about four hours previous, were well aware of her weakness. How they’d found out she didn’t care to guess. Perhaps they had a spy in the capitol, or perhaps they’d tried another of their not-uncommon feints and found the response time to their liking. Regardless, the dragons and their allies, who for weeks had poked cautiously at Equestria’s borders, now moved aggressively and with great force. This wasn’t draconic whimsy at play; there was no such thing when it came to war. They knew that Equestria’s defenses were logistically crippled. They had to know that Twilight Sparkle was asleep, and had been for days. Against most foes it wouldn’t matter much. Instant or near-instant communication was a rare ability. Dragonfire spells and teleportation were the only methods Celestia knew of. Unfortunately, dragonfire required at least one cooperative dragon — pending ongoing research by a currently comatose princess, anyway. Teleportation had its own issues; aside from the fact that three alicorns and zero living unicorns were the only known practitioners, it became exponentially more draining the farther one travelled. If either Celestia or Luna attempted to coordinate their forces using teleportation, they’d be exhausted within hours, leaving nopony to actually lead said forces, or, in the worst case, engage their foes directly. Only Twilight Sparkle, with her particular array of magically oriented talents, could use such demanding spells for any length of time and still retain some usefulness in the event of an actual conflict. She had been doing just that, flitting between far-flung watch posts, organizing responses when threats were spotted, and generally serving as the informational hub of the entire nation, right up until the evening when Celestia had convinced her to get some sleep. Dark circles, on a dark face, under dark eyes had to be particularly pronounced to be noticeable at all, and Twilight’s had been quite noticeable. “How long has it been since you slept?” Celestia had asked innocently enough, most of a week ago. It was a routine check-in of the sort they’d had nearly every night since returning to Canterlot. Aside from those dark circles, there was no indication that Twilight was feeling in any way out of sorts. Celestia had expected the sort of deflection her aides always offered. “Just been a long day,” or, “just a trick of the light,” or, “a cup of tea and some fresh air and I’ll be just fine.” Instead, Twilight had straightened and brought a hoof to her chin in contemplation. She thought about it for what seemed like an unreasonably long time. “Not since the night we met in Stonehoof,” she’d said at last. Seven weeks ago, at the time of that conversation. After a moment’s stunned silence, Celestia had insisted she immediately rest. Much as she regretted it now, she still couldn’t fault her thinking. Neither could Luna, which put the decision in very select company. Luna, being more attuned to all things sleep, had been worried about Twilight from the beginning, as she’d later confided to Celestia. She’d been uncharacteristically afraid to raise the issue, though, which was another tangle of something that Celestia preferred not to contemplate. Aggravating as her sister’s confrontational manner could be, this was no time for her to play the part of the shy school filly. A flash of orange light drew Celestia’s eyes to starboard in time to catch the arcing descent of a flare. It was answered seconds later by an identical one shot from a lookout station on Cirrus’ deck. A messenger trying to locate the airship; soon they’d be aboard, with painfully outdated information to share. The captain knew better than to bother her for routine status updates, so when he appeared at her side minutes later, it was clear that this messenger had brought something more substantial. Wordlessly, he held out a folded, sealed paper for her. Her seneschal’s seal elicited a scowl from her; the only news she wanted from the palace wasn’t likely to arrive by courier. A flicker of magic tore through the seal, and once unfolded, the message spent most of a second hovering in front of her eyes before her magic tore through it as well. “You have the deck,” Celestia said, quietly enough that only Captain Sails could hear her. He nodded subtly, correctly reading that she didn’t want to draw attention to her departure. “Send word to Nimbus. Princess Luna and I need to talk.” --- “Mammoths,” Celestia said in place of a greeting as Luna entered the captain’s office. “Marching north near Serpent’s Gorge.” Luna’s face scrunched into an expression that conveyed equal parts distaste and surprise. As her horn lit, the desk globe rotated to present the area in question, near the southeasternmost tip of Equestria’s borders. “Six-hundred miles. That makes our information… seven hours old at the least?” “More like ten,” Celestia said. “The message had to pass through Canterlot to be directed to us here.” “They are likely inside our borders, then,” Luna concluded. “What else do we know?” “Nothing.” The sisters stared silently at the globe for a moment. It wasn’t marked with the locations of the settlements near the border, but both alicorns saw them anyway. Small towns and farming villages with no military presence to speak of. There was a garrison in the area whose forces would be mobilizing, but they had nowhere near the resources to even delay the reported invasion. Hopefully the commander — Celestia struggled to remember a name or face, but failed — was sensible enough to organize a mass evacuation instead. Any order the princesses sent to that effect would arrive hours too late. Unless… “You aren’t thinking of going?” Luna asked, as Celestia was doing exactly that. “You’d arrive too exhausted to accomplish anything, and far more stands to be lost here.” “You’re here,” Celestia said quietly. “And so is the fleet.” “We don’t know if that’s enough. We don’t know if it would be enough even if you stayed.” Luna turned to stare out the rear window, through which nothing but rain could be seen. “Letting Baltimare fall — or even suffer damage — would be a crushing blow to the morale of our entire nation.” “And the southeastern settlements mean nothing?” “Do you not see that this is what the elder wants?” Luna snapped, turning back to her sister. “I do. But he underestimates us. You can hold the bay without me.” Luna snorted and shook her head. “Let’s suppose that’s true. What can you do? Watch helplessly as our towns are destroyed, because you spent all your energy getting yourself there?” “My presence alone could be a powerful deterrent.” Celestia paused, thinking back. “The mammoths are easily startled. It might not take much to turn them back.” “They wouldn’t even be outside their lands if the elder didn’t have some hold over them,” Luna argued. “They could be mindless puppets of the dragons now, just as the wyverns are.” “That would be useful to know.” Luna scowled. “You’ve already decided to go.” “We can’t let him make us choose,” Celestia said, her almost pleading tone one she rarely took with her sister. “That alone would be a victory for him.” “One victory. Now we are poised to present him with two.” “You can hold,” Celestia said. “I know you can.” “You gamble just as you always have,” Luna replied with a sigh. “What if Baltimare is another feint? We haven’t seen the bulk of his force since the scouts spotted them hours ago. They may simply be trying to separate us before striking at their true objective.” Celestia considered that point for a moment, then shook her head. “Even with dragonfire messages, coordinating a force that large and diverse won’t be simple. They won’t be able to redirect without at least giving you some time to react.” “More assumptions,” Luna said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Go. You’ve made your choice.” Celestia opened her mouth to argue further, then closed it as her thoughts caught up with her. There was nothing more she could say to convince Luna; trying would just antagonize her. She gave her sister what she hoped was an encouraging nod, then disappeared. --- Serpent’s Gorge was perhaps the most impressive of several steep canyons that descended from the southeast of Equestria into the bleak lowlands beyond. The river that had carved it, once among the mightiest known, had ceased to flow when Equestria took control of its weather. Left behind was the only walking route a creature the size of a mammoth could take from the lowlands into Equestria. It would have been simple enough to barricade it, had anypony imagined the necessity. The mammoths and others who shared the lowlands had never shown any interest in Equestria, though. Celestia had spoken to them on two occasions in her lifetime: first, they had complained about the drying of the river. Second, one thousand years later, they had wondered if she was going to do anything about Discord. She’d addressed both concerns, one by routing the San Palomino river down a different canyon into their lands, the other with a garden ornament. She’d interpreted their silence as satisfaction in the centuries since. From high above the ground, Celestia spotted their trail before she spotted the mammoths themselves. From the mouth of the canyon in the far distance, a line of ruined grassland snaked into her kingdom, terminating at a cloud of dust through which she could make out the invaders’ gargantuan forms. Careful to let wind and gravity do most of the work lest she expend more than the absolute minimum of energy, she adjusted her course and began to descend, aiming for a spot she estimated the mammoths would be reaching just as she set down. Surprise was the objective — not so much that it might frighten them beyond reason, but hopefully enough that they would reconsider their actions. The landing was blatantly theatrical, as she approached at an impractically high speed, then arrested her dive with a few powerful beats of her fully extended wings. Gravel and other loose debris flew outward from her landing site in all directions, an effect she enhanced with a touch of magic to make it look almost as if she loosed a minor shock wave when her hooves touched the ground. The mammoths didn’t seem particularly impressed, though she wasn’t familiar enough with their facial expressions or body language to say for sure. “Stop,” she ordered. It was the only mammoth word she remembered. It also happened to be one of the few that ponies could reproduce without the aid of magic. To truly speak and understand mammoth, one needed a mammoth’s trunk, a mammoth’s oversized ears with their infrasonic hearing, and of course the enormous feet they used for thunderous punctuation. Her already slight hopes that her one word vocabulary would suffice dwindled further as the mammoths continued to trundle indifferently toward her. Finally, the foremost of the herd shuffled to a halt. He looked down at her for a moment, turning his head to inspect her first with one eye, then the other. He seemed to fidget, his massive feet lifting slightly and resettling, sending an audible rumble through the ground as he did so. "Turn back," she said, amplifying her voice for effect. She spoke Equestrian now, which she doubted any in her audience would understand, but hopefully her commanding tone and unwelcoming posture would convey some part of her meaning. "Your invasion will not be tolerated." "We don't invade," replied the mammoth standing slightly behind and to the left of the leader. "We escape." Celestia looked at her in surprise. Female, judging by her voice and smaller tusks, she had a mottled gray coat that contrasted with the shaggy brown fur of the lead mammoth. Her speech was halting, probably owing to a limited and rarely used vocabulary, but was otherwise comprehensible. "Explain.” The mammoth seemed to search for words for a long moment before finally speaking again. "Snake birds came. Said: fight ponies. We said: no fight. Snake birds brought fire." Celestia’s first reaction was one of relief, followed closely by a twinge of guilt. The mammoths had been chased from their home; that hardly warranted celebration, even if it did mean they weren’t enemies. She mulled the question of what to do with this information. She might not be needed here after all, at least not as much as she was needed elsewhere. She wouldn’t be able to get back to Baltimare without resting first, though. By the time she was ready, the battle would likely be over. How had the elder managed to drive them into Equestria with such precise timing, anyway? It made sense if they were his minions, marching on schedule. If they were refugees, fleeing from a disaster to wherever they could, their movement became much more difficult to predict. One answer — possibly the simplest — was that he hadn’t, and the timing had been coincidental. Even with her preference for simple answers, that was hard to believe. A less savory option was that their story was a lie; they were in fact agents of the dragons, and were spinning a tale for her to waste more time. Or, perhaps they’d been herded into Equestria. The dragons would need to strategically burn the countryside, pushing them in the right direction at the right time. Difficult — how many would it take? Three, at least. Probably more, if they were aiming not to be seen. “Did they follow you here?” Celestia asked. The gray mammoth shook her head. “Did not see.” That probably meant four or five, then. Given the dragons’ push for Baltimare, could that many be spared? Each one was a potential communications hub for any number of supporting allies — it seemed wasteful to deploy them all so far away from the main conflict, especially all together. Still, if the ploy was to lure one of the alicorns away from the real battle, it had worked well enough, wasteful or not. There was one way to resolve at least some of these questions: she could go look. If the lowlands were indeed burning, she’d know soon enough, and she might even still be able to see how deliberate the burn patterns were. Leaving the mammoths unattended troubled her slightly, but that could be a useful test as well. They were at least twenty miles from the nearest settlement; it was unlikely the herd could reach it in the time it would take her to investigate their claims. If she asked them to stay here, and returned to find them gone, she’d have a pretty good clue as to their true intentions. “You may seek refuge in our lands,” Celestia said slowly in hopes the mammoths’ speaker would understand. “But you must stay here — right here — while I make arrangements.” The speaker gave her a confused stare, clearly having trouble parsing the offer. “Stay here,” Celestia repeated, poking at the ground with a hoof for emphasis. “I will come back soon.” The mammoth seemed to understand now, and grunted out a translation to the herd. The lead mammoth, still standing directly in front of Celestia, shuffled anxiously and squinted towards the sun. It was late afternoon, and a pleasant enough one to anypony completely unaware of almost anything but that specific fact. What was a comfortable temperature for Celestia and her ponies, however, was a very different experience for creatures equipped against the frigid winds that blew off the eastern seas and swept the lowland plains for all but a few short months per year. Though the mammoths had only recently emerged from the canyon into this warmer climate, they were clearly already worried about their abilities to withstand it. “One hour,” Celestia promised. The mammoths seemed to accept this, albeit reluctantly. As Celestia took to the sky again, the herd’s smallest members were huddling into the shadows cast by its largest. Of course, they would have had the same problem had Celestia not stopped them — in fact, if the heat was so intolerable, they’d exhaust themselves soon, marching farther and farther into Equestria’s warmer climate with neither rest nor water. Their lack of preparation, at least, spoke to the authenticity of their story. The mammoths would keep, Celestia was sure. She forced her mind back to the subject at hoof. In minutes, she was near the drop-off that marked Equestria’s edge. The descent was steep all along the border, impassable to any walking creature save goats except through the canyons. Here, in particular, though, it was not merely steep; it was almost perfectly vertical. Not quite a mile from top to bottom, the cliff might be the most spectacular Celestia knew of — and it made for an equally spectacular example of ridge lift. Wings spread wide in anticipation, Celestia let the sudden updraft carry her rapidly skyward, as the winds of the lowlands were deflected upward by the cliff below. It was a minor thing, perhaps, but not having to expend any effort on the climb was valuable at a time like this. From her new altitude, Celestia could see far enough that she was overtaken by fury instead. Nearer to the cliff, the inferno still raged, feasting on the tall grasses and thin, wavy trees that blanketed much of the lowlands. Beyond, there was only a smoking black expanse. None of the vegetation here was very substantial, meaning the fires moved quickly and left almost nothing recognizable behind. Seeing it now, it was surprising that the mammoths had made it out at all. Maybe the dragons hadn’t intended that they escape at all. Surely if they’d wanted the mammoths dead, they would have taken a more direct approach, though. What motives were served by setting this fire, instead? One was obvious, given that it had already happened: if, as they had, the mammoths did escape into Equestria, it would serve as a distraction at a potentially critical time. It could serve as an example to others: side with the dragons, or you could be next. Of course, the mammoths weren’t the only inhabitants of the lowlands. Did the dragons mean the others ill? Celestia went through a mental inventory of the lowlands ecosystem: mammoths, vultures, terrapins along the coast and their cousins the giant tortoises further inland. Those were the only sentient or semi-sentient species Celestia knew of in the area, though it was possible her knowledge was incomplete. She couldn’t see a reason to target any of the others. Punishment for the mammoths, a clear message to anyone watching, and the potential for distraction among their enemies seemed the most likely explanation. The others were just collateral damage, about which the dragons cared little to none. It was, Celestia noted with a perverse sort of admiration, a very economical use of effort. So many objectives achieved, and all they had to do was set a little fire and watch it grow. She’d wondered about the care and coordination involved in driving the mammoths north, theorizing that it had taken several dragons to manage, but now it appeared as if a single fire was set and no attempts were made to control it; the winds were favorable, and they’d gotten all they had wanted from it. Very economical indeed. At her age, Celestia was far too wise to feel responsible for the violence of her enemies. The guilt she felt, as she gazed upon the ruined landscape below, had to go with something else. Probably leaving Luna to defend Baltimare alone — surely that was it. She circled for another few minutes, eyes searching for any more important details, then her time was up. The question now was what to do with the mammoths. They had no place to go, but Celestia couldn’t spare the resources or attention to properly accommodate them. Another nice benefit for the elder; he’d successfully forced the decision between a strategically unwise option, and a morally untenable one. As she turned back towards Equestria, she spotted a vulture gliding on thermals far above her. What would he have to say about these events? He couldn’t be any happier than the mammoths. Celestia didn’t have time to go to him right now if she was to keep her promise, and his current altitude would be quite uncomfortable for her in any case. She made a mental note to seek out a vulture later if the opportunity presented itself. So high above everything else, they were likely beyond the notice of the dragons. They might have seen something useful from up there, and they might even be inclined to share it, if it meant some measure of revenge against those who had destroyed their scavenging grounds. She wasn’t surprised to find the herd right where she’d left it. The small group of pegasi — scouts from the nearest garrison, by the look of them — were a bit of a shock, though. They’d clearly been arguing with the mammoths, or at least attempting to. Both groups were visibly relieved by her arrival. The pegasi bowed reflexively, then their leader stepped forward to address her. “Princess—” “Lieutenant,” Celestia interrupted, squinting at the pony’s rank insignia. “Is it now standard procedure for scouting detachments to risk their mission by landing to confront targets?” The lieutenant bowed his head in acknowledgement of the rebuke, but spoke again anyway. “I sent two flyers back to base when we spotted them, your highness. The commander ordered us to delay them any way we could.” Not a terrible plan, she supposed, given that the garrison commander couldn’t yet know that the mammoths weren’t hostile and that their march had been halted. The pegasi, with more information, had still chosen this confrontation, though. “They weren’t moving,” Celestia said. “Exactly how much more did you hope to slow them?” “They could have started again, Princess.” Celestia raised a skeptical eyebrow as she let her gaze sweep across the clearly exhausted herd, but let the matter drop. He was just another inexperienced soldier doing the best he knew to do. She had spent a great deal of effort making this world one that could preserve that lack of experience; there was no point getting upset about it now. “Return to your garrison. Inform the commander that we need rain clouds and rations. Once he’s arranged that, he’s to come speak to me here.” To his credit, the lieutenant didn’t ask questions. He saluted, nodded to his subordinates, and was soon disappearing with them into the western sky. It would probably be at least two hours before any of what she’d ordered would arrive. She cast an appraising glance at the herd. They were not faring well in the heat. Hopefully it would be quick enough. In the meantime, what could she most productively do? She needed to talk to the mammoths about their long term plans, but there were linguistic difficulties there, and for the time being they could be sheltered here. It was a drain on Equestria’s resources, to be sure; a weather crew would be required to keep them comfortable, and the sparse vegetation in the immediate vicinity would not sustain them for any significant length of time. Still, moral obligations aside, it seemed like a good time to make friends rather than enemies. She didn’t know right now how mammoths could help fight the dragons, or even if they’d be willing, but neither of those would even be a question if she sent them back to the lowlands to die. With a moment’s search, she found the mammoth who’d spoken for them before. She was crouched in the shadow of one of her larger herd mates, breathing heavily. “Are you alright?” Celestia asked. “Hot,” the mammoth replied without looking at her. “It will be cooler soon. What is your name?” “Mora,” she said, after taking a moment to parse the question. “I’m honored to meet you, Mora. I am Princess Celestia.” “Know,” Mora grunted. “All know Celestia.” “Do you lead your people, Mora?” Celestia asked. “No.” She pointed weakly with her trunk, indicating the larger brown mammoth who had walked at the front of their procession when Celestia had found them. “Arko is leader.” “Can you tell him something for me?” “Can try.” Celestia considered her next words carefully. There was no way to convey the entirety of her plans through Mora’s imperfect translation; best to keep it simple. “Your herd can stay as long as you need. We will provide food and supplies. We hope that you will help us when we are in need.” “Can try,” Mora repeated, her uncertainty clear in her expression.. It would have to do for now, but eventually they would require more effective communication. There were probably not any convenient mammoth language speakers in Equestria she could enlist for translation duty. Though there had once been a program at Canterlot University covering the languages of the southern lands, it had ended centuries ago for lack of interest. It had also, Celestia was sure, suffered from the problems inherent to any language course in which none of the teachers were native speakers of the languages they taught. The best course was probably to improve Mora’s Equestrian language skills instead. Plenty of capable teachers could be found for that; she’d have the garrison commander arrange for one when he arrived. How had Mora first learned Equestrian, anyway? It was used as a trade language in some parts of the world, but she’d never heard of mammoths partaking in trade. She could ask, she supposed, but a glance at the mammoth seemed to show her in deep thought, possibly working out how to express Celestia’s meaning to Arko and the others. Better not to disturb her, then. She watched the herd curiously for another few minutes, then began to wonder if she could manage a nap before sundown. As it turned out, she could. --- Night fell before the commander arrived. Celestia awoke to lower the sun, then watched with interest as the moon rose. Though it wasn’t a perfect indicator, Celestia chose to interpret its steady ascent and bright fullness to mean that, however the battle in Baltimare Bay was going, Luna herself was in no serious distress. When, a few minutes after appearing, the moon flared with a light briefly equal to that of the sun, she did not have as comforting a feeling about it. Blinking her eyes clear, Celestia kept her manner as relaxed as she could, aware that the nervous eyes of the mammoths were upon her. Whatever it meant, it probably wasn’t good.