//------------------------------//
// Ascendant Shadows 3 
// Story: The Lunar Rebellion 
// by Chengar Qordath 
//------------------------------//

The appointed time for the Avatar to torture my daughter came and went without a trace of either of them. I remained at the southern gate, waiting for any sign of what had happened to my child. I lingered there for long enough that the hours began to blend together.

The view from the gate was hardly remarkable. In truth, I saw little more than a large, dark, empty cavern. Our engineers had cleared as large of a killing field as they could manage without risking a collapse, but clearing the terrain removed only one obstacle. In the caves beneath Canterlot, the only light that existed was what ponies brought with them. While a few unmined veins of gemstones reflected the powerful lights on our fortifications, it was still difficult to see much further than a hundred paces. Especially since the rebels constantly sought to douse or obscure our lights so that they might move in secret.

And yet, I watched the darkness, waiting for any sign of the enemy. I would not leave my post until I knew my daughter’s fate. Had the Avatar opted to privately torment my child instead of making a public spectacle of it? Had she devised some torture so cruel she dared not let it see the light of day? Had my child been sacrificed, as Copper had been, in order to fuel some foul ritual of dark magic? Or had some shred of Bright Charger’s honor survived within the abomination that wore her flesh?

I did not know. Until I did, there would be no peace in my heart.

A gently cleared throat drew mine attention, and I glanced back at Sergeant Stalwart. “Honored Shadow—” I glowered at the unwanted appellation, and he wisely corrected himself. “Materfamilias, it has been a full day since the Avatar’s ultimatum. You have taken neither rest nor food in that time.”

“I am aware,” I rumbled tersely. “Is there any news of my child?”

The sergeant mutely shook his head. “Nothing new. They had set up a post at the far end of the cavern, there was discussion, then they took it down. We have seen nothing of the Avatar or Gale since.” He took a deep breath, then offered me a small package. “I took the liberty of securing a few of the sandwiches from the wedding feast yesterday. Last I checked, they are still quite edible.”

“I am not hungry,” I grunted through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps a bowl of soup then?” he suggested. “The caverns can be cool, and I find that having something warm to hold in my hooves is heartening.”

“I am not hungry,” I maintained, my teeth beginning to grind.

“At least take some water,” he stubbornly insisted.

“It is not water that I require!” I snapped at the well-meaning stallion. “My daughter is in the hands of an abomination birthed from dark magic. A monster that threatened to torture her to force my compliance with her demands. I have no idea as to her safety, or even if she still lives! Dost thou truly believe that a glass of water will improve my condition?”

The sergeant weathered my choler with admirable restraint, his face the very image of polite deference until I had finished venting my spleen. When he responded, his words were firm despite the deference within them. “Milady, I do not see how drinking water could possibly make the situation any worse than it is already.”

“So be it.” ‘Twas plain enough that if I refused water, he would simply make another offer, and continue doing so until I gave in. Better to accept now, so that he would leave me in peace. “Water, then. And a sandwich.”

“An excellent choice, milady.” He passed over the sandwich, then raised his voice. “Water-filly! O’er here!”

A few seconds later, there was a loud thump on the stairs, accompanied by a great deal of grumbling. After several more such thumps, I spotted young Midnight slowly ascending towards us, laden with so many water canteens that I could barely see the filly herself. ‘Twould seem that Sunbeam had made good on her threat to put Midnight to work.

The burdened child slowly made her way to us, then removed one of the many canteens festooning her. Bitter resentment laced her words, as though the world had done her some terrible wrong. “Does anypony here require water?”

“Aye, I do.” I extended a hoof to take the canteen.

She slowly trudged over to me, grunting with exertion as each step was accompanied by the sound of water sloshing about within the dozens of containers she carried. One canteen hovered into my hoof, suspended within a field of her magic. “Here you go, Lady Shadow.”

“My thanks.” I took the water, then lightly sipped it. To my surprise, the cool water felt remarkably refreshing, and I came to the reluctant conclusion that the sergeant had been quite correct. I needed the water, and likely the food as well. I emptied the canteen entirely, then tore into the sandwich.

While I occupied myself with such mundane needs, the rest of the soldiers on the wall converged upon young Midnight. Her supply of canteens rapidly dwindled as dozens of warriors refreshed themselves. She had a few moments to enjoy her relative lack of burdens, until empty canteens began making their way towards her. I passed mine to her as well, and she took a moment to glower hatefully at it before reattaching the canteen to her bags, grumbling under her breath, “And I had only just refilled these.”

The sergeant chuckled softly at her displeasure. “And now you can refill them again.” He removed one of the last full canteens remaining on young Midnight, replacing it with his own empty one. Noting her resentful glare, he said, “Watching the walls is thirsty work, child.”

She groaned loudly, then set to work rearranging the canteens with both hooves and magic in an effort to make them rest more easily upon her overburdened shoulders. “This is a cycle that has no end. 'Tis maddening ... and tiring. I am happy I was not born an earth pony. If this is anything like farmwork, I want no part of it.”

One of the many earth ponies manning the walls paused in midst of drinking his water, sparing an annoyed look for the child. “Farming is good, honest work.”

Midnight glowered balefully at him, showing the earth pony none of the respect she ought to have given to her elders. “Your idea of honest work strikes me as dirty, difficult, and demeaning. I prefer my books.”

I quickly intervened before the child could do herself further damage. ‘Twould not do to have her causing discord within our own forces. “Physical toil will build both your muscles and your character, child. ‘Tis how young warriors grow strong enough to wield their blades.”

Midnight cocked her head to the side, slowly blinking as she considered my words. “But I will not grow up to be a warrior. What need have I of such muscles? And I am not sure I see the correlation 'tween back-breaking labor and character.”

“A strong body supports a strong mind,” I explained. “And e’en if it did not, 'tis always better to grow strong of body rather than remain weak. Not every problem can be solved with magic. As for hard work, it teaches one determination.”

Midnight sighed loudly, looking over the dozens of empty canteens draped over her, then glancing across the inner walls to the fountain some hundred paces away. “If I must continue carrying water for the rest of this siege, then I am going to be the most determined pony in all of Canterlot by the time ‘tis done.”

As she groaned and ran a hoof o’er her face, I took note of the weary slump of her shoulders and the bags developing beneath her slightly bloodshot eyes. Her complaints were not merely the usual grumblings of any child forced to work when they would prefer to remain idle; she truly was worn down by her duties. I would have to be a heartless fool not to make allowances. “A short rest should not cause any problems, child.”

Midnight immediately seated herself, accompanied by the sound of dozens canteens ringing against one another. “I think I could sleep for a week if allowed to.” She brought both hooves up to rub at her eyes. “If I could stay asleep, that is.”

That remark drew my interest. “Thy sleep is troubled, child?”

She slowly nodded, covering a yawn before she spoke. “I have been having trouble sleeping as of late. My dreams have been most unpleasant. Nightmares.” She waved a hoof through the air, clearly not wishing to provide further details. “Mother has given me some potions to aid my sleep, but they seem to be less potent with every night.”

“Dreams are passing things, child,” I reassured her. “Pay them no mind.”

Despite my comments, I wondered if there might be more to it than mere dreams. Legend said that before her madness Commander Luna had watched o’er the dreaming world. And after her fall from grace she had dubbed herself a nightmare. Could it be that now her avatar sought to torment ponies in their sleep? Certainly ‘twould be dangerous if she could deny our forces proper rest. Exhausted soldiers do not fight well.

Sergeant Stalwart, thankfully oblivious to my darker thoughts, remained focused on much more mundane solutions to young Midnight’s problem. “Mayhaps a warm glass of milk ere you go to bed? I know that helped my daughter whenever she—”

There was a sudden loud, meaty thud, and the sergeant let out a noise that was halfway between a grunt and a wheeze. As his legs collapsed and he fell to the cold stone of the battlement, I saw a crossbow bolt protruding from his side.

After a moment of shocked disbelief, I recovered and shouted in my best battlefield bellow, “We are under attack! Medics to the walls, we have wounded!”

I turned my gaze back to the open cavern, intent on seeking out the crossbowpony who had struck down my sergeant and exacting righteous retribution upon them. However, the caverns remained as blank and seemingly empty as they had been when last I searched them. Had an enemy marksmare somehow managed to fire at us from the darkness?

Another unpleasant thought crossed my mind: the sergeant had been standing next to me. In all likelihood, the bolt buried within his flesh had not been intended for him.

My gaze turned all the sharper, determined to unveil the archer’s hiding place. As I concentrated on piercing the darkness to find my hiding enemy, I felt a sudden curious sort of resonance from the helm upon my brow. A moment later, the darkness and shadows within the cave faded and I could see hundreds of approaching forces. Their forms were vague and wispy, as if some force sought to conceal them from my eyes.

“Beware!” I shouted to my soldiers. “The enemy’s warlocks are hiding their forces from our sight! Strike them down ere they are upon us!”

I turned to young Midnight, intent upon seeing her to safety ere the battle was truly joined. I found her standing far too close to the battlements, staring off into the distance. Much as she had at the wedding, she murmured under her breath. “She is coming.”

Curious as I found the remark and all that it implied, now was no time to concern myself with the child or her oddities. My wing blades flashed out, neatly severing the web of canteens bound to young Midnight. “The middle of the battlefield is no place for a child. Go to safety, and spread the word that we need reinforcements at—”

The rest of my words were lost as the walls suddenly buckled and heaved beneath us, then hurled the both of us up into the air with a mighty roar. Instinct took over and I spread my wings in an effort to control my sudden, unexpected flight. I quickly grabbed Midnight and pulled the flightless child protectively to my breast.

While there was no time to fully control myself ere I returned to the cavern floor, I did at least manage to prevent myself from landing too badly. ‘Twas rough, but I had suffered far worse. And more importantly, I ensured that Midnight was unharmed.

I turned my eyes to the southern gates only to find that the gates themselves were no longer there, nor was a substantial portion of the walls. I could only assume that the rebels’ warlocks had used their magic to somehow conceal themselves as they approached the gates and ignited the explosion that had ruined our defenses.

The rebel forces who had been similarly concealed from our eyes began to pour in through the fresh breach in our walls. My own soldiers were badly out of position, many still stunned by the sudden destruction of the gates and most the rest still manning their positions on the now fatally compromised wall. If the breach could not be contained, the entire position would fall within a matter of minutes.

I staggered back to my hooves, shaking my head in an effort to clear it. Midnight remained lying on the stone floor, still curled up protectively to shield her face and vitals. “Midnight! You must flee from this place! It is not safe!” My words were distant and tinny, as though I were hearing somepony shouting from a mile away. The child gave no response, and I was not e’en certain that she had heard me.

I would have tried to rouse her further, but there was no time before the enemy was upon me. One of the earth pony irregulars let out an excited cry that I could only barely hear, then charged towards me, swinging an oversized wood axe at my head. Were I not so badly dazed from being thrown about I would easily have dodged and countered his clumsy strike, but as it was I barely managed to avoid being split like a log.

However, the very threat of my impending demise began to bring my mind back to focus, and fire burned through my veins as instincts honed through a lifetime of training came to the fore. His second strike was more easily dodged, and when he attempted a third I exploited the opening, my blade passing along his throat.

With the strike, I received another reminder of the fine quality of Sunbeam’s enchantment work. Mine old blades would merely have opened my foe’s throat, but these new weapons passed easily through not only his throat, but the thick muscles of his neck and e’en his spine. Had my blades been angled for it, I might have cleanly removed his head in a single stroke. Instead, the nearly headless corpse stumbled forward for several steps, carried by its momentum. 

Midnight had just begun to recover from her own shock when the corpse fell before her, blood spurting out of the stump of the pony’s neck. A bright splash of arterial blood struck her full in the face, causing her to recoil in shock.

I could spare no more time for her, as the next attackers were already upon me. The next earth ponies howled out furious battle cries, and between their shouts and similar appearances I gathered that they must have been kin to the first pony I’d slain (1).

1: A fairly likely scenario, since most of the earth pony units within rebel ranks were organized according to the communities they were recruited from. This structure had disastrous results for many families and villages, as it frequently led to the total extermination of all fighting-age ponies within that group. The famous poem “Six Silent Stones”, in which one earth pony soldier is excused from the war after all six of his siblings died in a single ill-fated assault, was inspired by far too many historical parallels.

This is a large part of why current Guard policy is to never recruit a unit from one specific area, and to keep family members as split up as can reasonably be managed.

Whate’er, the case, I had no intention of allowing them to avenge themselves upon me. I met their charge, my blades lashing out and easily cutting through their crude armor and ill-trained defenses. There was no honor to this battle, as half-trained peasants wielding weapons made from farm equipment tried to o’ercome a born warrior wearing wargear forged by Celestia herself. ‘Twas at best a single step removed from mere slaughter. 

The bards would ne’er sing of this battle, for my deeds were not heroic. There was merely the cold necessity of striking down enemy soldiers ere they could find weaker foes. With young Midnight behind me and quite helpless, I could not let them pass. The battle, if one could even call it that, left a foul taste in my mouth.

As the last of the earth pony irregulars fell, I charged forward into the breach. To my relief, the ponies there were pegasi decked out in the colors of Clan Charger. They proved much worthier foes, and I was glad to see that many of mine own forces had rallied and were also at work pushing them back through the breach.

Howe’er, the ranks were yet broken and the fighting chaotic, and in such battles the individually superior soldiers of the rebels held the advantage. If the line was to hold, we would have to drive them back in order to buy time to dress our ranks and bring the pikes to the fore. If we could force the enemy to confront an ordered pike wall rather than scattered hooffulls of soldiers, we might yet hold the line.

I sought an enemy champion, hoping that I might cut them down and shake the enemy’s morale badly enough to turn the tide. The Chargers’ commander was not long in showing himself: a young stallion who shared much of Bright’s looks. Younger than Dusk, and thus presumably one of her younger sons, though still of an age to hold battlefield command. 

As I cut my way towards him, his eyes widened. For a moment there was terror in them, but then a sort of mad glee replaced the fear. “Shadow! At last, I shall avenge my sister and my brother! I will be your doom, foul one! I am Flash Charger! Son of Bright Charger and—”

A jab to the throat abruptly ended his speech, and a heavier blow to his helm knocked him to the ground, dazed. My blades flashed out, reducing his lance to kindling. One of the many splinters from his ruined weapon sank into his hindquarters through a chink in his armor, and blood welled out of the fresh wound.

I hesitated for a moment, then withdrew my blade from his neck. I had already taken one of Bright’s children from her, howe’er unintentionally. I had no desire to claim a second when mercy was easily within my grasp. I turned to the nearest Charger. “Return your commander to his mother. Let her see how I treat her children when ‘tis within my power to inflict death or agony upon them, and take that lesson to heart.”

The remaining Chargers exchanged a silent glance with one another, then slowly stepped forward to collect their wounded captain. As I had hoped would happen, they fell back from the breach to carry him to safety. For a precious minute the rebels had to halt their attack to allow the Charger forces to withdraw in peace, as the breach was too narrow to allow the attack to continue while other soldiers fell back.

The short, informal truce was unlikely to last much longer than it took the Chargers to clear the wall, so I quickly put that time to use dressing my ranks. Fresh pikes were quickly distributed to the front ranks, and my ponies fell into the Dragon’s Teeth formation that had stymied the rebel advance at Avalon Vale. When next they tried to breach the walls, it would go badly for them.

As soon as I had seen to our frontlines, I stepped back to see to young Midnight. I had lost track of the child once the battle had been fully joined, but now that I had a moment’s peace ‘twas time to see to her safety. Assuming she had not wisely taken my advice and fled back to the city as quickly as her hooves could carry her.

She had not. Though to her credit, ‘twas not due to being frozen in terror. “Could somepony please get this dead earth pony off of me?” the trapped child groaned, struggling to squirm out from beneath the corpse of a rebel soldier. “It is very heavy, and bleeding on me. I have heard that the bowels release at some point after death, and do not wish to still be trapped beneath him when that happens. ‘Twould be most unpleasant.”

I rolled the body off of her, grimacing as I realized that her horn had actually penetrated the corpse’s flesh. Small surprise she was so covered in blood. I quickly swiped the worst of it off her face. “I trust none of the blood is yours?”

She shook her head. “Neigh, if ‘twas I would also be complaining about being injured.” She rose to her hooves, slowly stretching out each of her limbs as she enjoyed her newly restored freedom. Despite my brief effort to clean her face, she remained so thoroughly coated in the blood of the dead that I saw more shades of crimson upon her than her natural coat. Were she wearing armor, one might mistake her for a member of my clan.

Nothing a good bath could not address, however. ‘Twas of little consequence so long as none of the blood adorning her was her own. “The breach has been sealed, and the walls shall hold for a time. We should see you to safety.”

Young Midnight nodded gravely. “That would be for the best. I am too young to experience dying horribly on the battlefield. I would not care to have my brains dashed out by a hammer-hoof, nor my skull cloven by an axe or my chest pierced by a lance.” She locked her eyes upon my own breastplate, regarding it with genuine curiosity. “I am sure you can quite agree that the last of those is most unpleasant. I am curious, how exactly did you expire? Did the blow pierce one of your lungs, causing you to slowly drown in your own blood? Or did she damage your heart, impeding bloodflow throughout your entire body? Or—”

“I have no memory of it, and this is a poor time to discuss it regardless.”

“What was dying like?” she asked, completely undeterred by my irritated tone. “Or almost dying, at least. I have read many accounts, but never had the opportunity to directly speak to somepony who experienced it. Are the stories about tunnels of light and hearing the voices of loved ones accurate?”

I struggled to avoid the urge to snap at her. “Again, now is not the time for such talk.”

A faint frown flicked across her lips. “May I at least see the scar?”

I sighed and made a minor concession. “Perhaps at a later date,” I answered, largely in the hopes of closing the topic. Ere she could attempt to engage me in further conversation, I shifted mine attention back to the breach in our walls. Despite the dense wall of pikes holding the breach, the rebels seemed to be gearing up for another assault.

Young Midnight followed my gaze, a worried frown working its way onto her face. “Are they going to break through?”

“Not quickly or easily.” I noted that my words did not remove the troubled grimace from her face and sought to calm her. “They would have to launch a frontal assault into a narrow breach in the wall against a well-ordered pike wall. The advantage is firmly on our side in that battle.”

I frowned, troubled by that very fact. When the enemy makes a move that seems to be to your own advantage, caution is always called for. While one can certainly hope that the enemy is simply making a mistake, it is always possible that one’s foes are merely playing out part of some grander plan. Often a seeming vulnerability is merely a lure to draw the enemy into a trap.

Or mayhaps ‘twas merely paranoia. From all I had heard, Swift had been quick to spend the lives of his soldiers since taking command of the rebel forces, and he might well manage to force the breach if he pressed the attack fiercely enough. Even with my forces in a strong position and ideally equipped, weight of numbers would eventually tell. And securing a breach in our walls was certainly worth paying a heavy price in blood.

Still, I misliked that explanation. The initial strike had shown unusual cunning, rather than Swift’s usual reliance on the weight of expendable numbers. It seemed prudent to assume the second strike would likely display much the same.

Midnight frowned thoughtfully. “Where are your reserves? I have read about war—it seemed prudent, given the circumstances. Many of my books mentioned the importance of having reserves to plug holes in the line or counter unexpected enemy maneuvers.”

“Your books were quite correct.” I waved to the pike force positioned within the breach. “Our reserves are, in fact, holding the breach right now.”

The child grimaced. “So you have no remaining reserves to commit should the next phase of the battle go badly? That strikes me as less than ideal.”

“It is not what I would prefer,” I conceded, “but on the battlefield one rarely has the luxury of having all be exactly as one would like it. I will fight this battle with the available forces, and we will hold until reinforcements arrive.”

“And if you fail?” She asked.

“We cannot fail, or else the entire defensive line could be compromised.” My voice hardened into iron. “We will hold here.”

The child blinked very slowly, then picked up one of the few water canteens that had survived the battle. “I see. In that case, the soldiers will likely require water. I should return to my duties as well.”

I immediately shook my head. “Neigh, Midnight. It is far too dangerous.”

She nodded sharply. “You are still here. As are the soldiers standing in the first rank of battle. While I do not wish to be impaled upon a spear of have my guts ripped out by a billhook, I will stand with you, Lady Shadow.”

For a moment I was at a loss for words. Such bravery was worthy of a soldier of Pegasopolis. Though I knew ‘twould likely be more prudent to send the child to safety, such seemed a poor response to her admirable courage. “So be it then, Midnight. Stand and fight with us, like a true warrior.” I paused a moment, then amended, “Though do not sell your life foolishly. If matters go badly, find somewhere to hide until you can make your way to safety.”

“Of course.” The child’s eyes flicked o’er to the corpse I had so recently rescued her from beneath. “It would seem that there will be no shortage of good things to hide beneath in the middle of this battlefield. I daresay I shall be quite safe. Which is good, since if I were to die in your care Mother would likely be wroth with you.”

“Extremely so.” While the relationship ‘tween Sunbeam and her daughter was one I still did not fully understand, ‘twas plain enough that she would react most badly to any harm befalling her. Though whether ‘twas out of genuine love for her child or simply a desire to protect her own name and reputation, I could not say.

“Fortunately,” I continued, “I have no intention of allow you to...” I slowly trailed off as I noted a force of rebel pegasi assembling at the far end of the cavern. Despite the low ceiling and stalactites making flight impractical, they were all airborne. And most importantly, they were the fine armor and elite emblems of the hetairoi.

I did not know what they planned, but I was certain that if the enemy intended to launch some masterstroke to breach the walls, ‘twas likely no coincidence that one of the best units in all Pegasopolis was on the field and preparing to attack. “Archers! Take the hetairoi down!”

The archers immediately opened fire, but the range made their shots difficult. Low cavern ceilings had their disadvantages for our archers as well as the enemy fliers. As soon as they realized that they were under attack, the hetairoi began their charge. The archers reloaded and fired again, but between the high speed of the pegasi’s advance and the heavy armor of the hetairoi few of their bolts had any effect. Many of the bolts instead found targets among the advancing ground forces, who could not keep pace with the hetairoi but were also charging regardless.

Young Midnight slowly shifted until I stood between her and the advancing rebels. “Those are Her guards,” the child whimpered. “She is here.” I could spare no more time for the child, though I certainly prayed she was wrong. The battle was perilous enough without the Avatar taking the field against us.

The charging hetairoi focused their advance on my pike wall, approaching so hard and fast that for a moment I wondered if they intended to impale themselves upon the upraised weapons. However, at the last possible moment, when they had advanced close enough that I could easily recognize Dusk Charger and Sierra Doo leading the advance, they suddenly performed a sharp reversing turn. ‘Twas an insanely dangerous maneuver to perform, especially while armored and so close to enemy lines. Several of the hetairoi either plowed into the pike wall or were cut down by archers as the sharp turn left them virtually motionless for a critical instant.

However, at the centerpoint of that sharp turn each of the hetairoi hurled something towards the ranks of my pike line. A moment later, explosions rippled through the tightly packed ranks, blasting holes into the dense formation that thoroughly disrupted my pike line and reduced the ordered wall into a confused morass.

Fire gems! They had used fire gems to break up my formation!

Moments later the rebels ground forces struck, taking full advantage of the disorder in my ranks. A pike wall is formidable when it functions properly, but if the wall itself is broken then there is nothing but a large mass of ponies armed with weapons ill-suited to close combat outside a dense and organized formation. All too soon the defenders were o’erwhelmed, and the rebels held the breach once more.

I knew what had to be done, much as it pained me. I snatched up young Midnight, ignoring the child’s startled squawk as I tossed her onto my back, bellowing out orders. “Fall back! The southern gate is lost! Withdraw to the western redoubt!”





Thankfully, we managed to fall back in relatively good order. The forces manning the walls had been outflanked the instant the rebels claimed the breach, but some managed to escape before the rebel trap snapped fully shut, and the rest sold their lives to buy us time to withdraw. By the time we arrived at the western redoubt, I had gathered nearly half the garrison to my side. Which sounded much better than saying that over half the forces manning the walls and gate had been lost to the enemy.

Stalwart was not among the soldiers with me. I had seen no sign of the valiant sergeant since he had taken the crossbow bolt meant for me, only for us to be scattered by the explosion at the southern gate. I could not bring myself to believe that he was dead, yet I knew that all logic suggested he was unlikely to have survived. 

But then, all logic also said that I should have died from the wound Bright had inflicted upon me, so I would continue to hold hope for the sergeant’s survival until we recovered a body. ‘Twas always possible that he was part of some other group of survivors fleeing the battle, or had e’en been found and captured by the enemy. Better that he be a prisoner than dead. Prisoners can escape or be ransomed; the dead cannot.

Upon arrival at the redoubt, Sunbeam Sparkle was waiting for me. Or perhaps more accurately, she was waiting for the young child riding on my back. As soon as young Midnight laid eyes upon her mother, she quietly slipped off my back and trotted to her side. One of Sunbeam’s forelegs snatched her daughter to her side, giving the young child a quick, fierce hug. After that she held the filly at hoof’s length, her horn glowing as she inspected the child with both her eyes and her magic. “You are unharmed?”

“I suffered no injuries,” the child dutifully reported. “Lady Shadow saw to my safety.”

“I see.” Sunbeam spared a brief look and a grateful nod to me, then returned her attention to her daughter. “Return to my tower at once, and remain there until the battle is over.” For a moment Midnight opened her mouth as though she might object to her mother’s orders, but one look at Sunbeam’s stern, uncompromising eyes was enough to silence her. For all her determination to remain on the battlefield, she still did not dare defy her mother.

As the child reluctantly began the journey back to safety, I caught the eye of one of my clanmates, then pointedly nodded towards Midnight. He caught my meaning easily enough, and peeled off from the rest of the group to watch o’er the young child, seeing her safely home.

With Midnight attended to, I returned my attention once more to the war. “The southern gate has fallen to the enemy. How do we fare elsewhere?”

“Better,” the Archmagus answered tersely. She turned about, trotting into the redoubt and towards several converted mining buildings. Within lay another improvised command area, and I was heartened to see both the new grandmaster of Sol Invictus and Captain Greenwall awaiting within. I strode towards the large tactical map that dominated the center of the room, and reluctantly removed the markers for our own forces, shifting too few of them to the western redoubt and then advancing the rebels to the gates. Grandmaster Quest grimaced at the news, while Greenwall grunted and nodded.

“The enemy struck under cover of magic. The gate and a portion of the wall were lost ere we even realized that we were under attack. We tried to hold the breach, and discovered that they have also devised a counter for the Dragon’s Teeth formation as well.”

Grandmaster Quest’s frown deepened. “I do hope this is one of those times when you bring good news to offset the bad.” My silence was answer enough to his hopes, and he sighed. “How have they broken the Dragon’s Teeth?”

“Fast, high-speed fliers coming in at a low angle and unleashing fire gems into the heart of the formation shortly before their ground forces charge in.” I paused, thinking back to the attack itself. “The hetairoi performed the strike, and the flying maneuvers involved required a great deal of skill. Not to mention the timing must be precise: if they strike too late they risk hitting their own, and too early would allow our pike walls to dress their ranks ere the battle is joined. And the hetairoi bled.”

“The hetairoi are an elite unit, aye?” Greenwall asked. When I nodded and did not correct his mangled pronunciation, he continued on. “It takes a very difficult maneuver from one of their best units, using magical support. ‘Twould seem to me they won because they played all their best cards in one go.”

Grandmaster Quest nodded slowly. “Presuming I follow the metaphor correctly, I believe the captain raises a valid point. They broke our lines by concentrating all their best forces at a single point, and no doubt paid a heavier toll in blood from them to achieve that goal. The assaults elsewhere along our lines have been conventional ones, and far less effective.”

I followed the reasoning easily enough. “For the moment, thin our front lines to hold a larger reserve. If they can only break our lines in one place at a time, then we simply need to ensure that we have enough reserves to plug those gaps when they appear. Assuming we survive the day, we will need more units stationed in the tunnels to allow a larger reserve without diminishing our forward defenses.”

“Cutting rest time on the surface will not make the men happy,” Greenwall grunted. “Not even the miners like staying down here forever. But losing the war would be worse.”

Grandmaster Quest nodded grimly. “Nothing else for it, at least until we find a way to keep the Dragon’s Teeth from breaking.”

“Aye.” I scowled and shook my head. “Especially since the enemy will likely begin training more fliers to replicate the hetairoi’s maneuver. Now that its effectiveness has been proven in battle, they would be fools not to.”

“There is likely a limit to how many fire gems they can produce,” Sunbeam opined. I had almost forgotten that the Archmagus was present, as she had remained quite silent while I discussed tactics with the other generals. ‘Twould seem that she had little head for military matters. “The enemy has far fewer warlocks than we have magi,” Sunbeam continued, “and any warlock who exhausts himself crafting gems will be of little use in battle. Even if every pegasi in the enemy ranks is trained to use the gems, they could never hope to equip even a half a tithe of their numbers without rendering their warlocks useless for any other purpose.” She shrugged, then amended, “Barring the unanticipated, of course.”

My shoulders untensed slightly at the news.“‘Twould seem that the news, while grim, is not hopeless, then.”

“Indeed so.” Grandmaster Quest agreed. “I shall set my knights to testing ways to counter the enemy tactic at once.”

“Try stringing nets between the pikes,” Greenwall suggested. “The nets catch the gems before they hit our soldiers. Makes ‘em go boom too soon.”

“I think ‘twould be unwieldy, and the nets would only survive a single volley,” Quest opined with a grimace. “But I see no reason not to at least test it.”

“My magi might be able to counter them too,” Sunbeam suggested. “Though ‘twould not be easy, and I do not have sufficient numbers to deploy them everywhere.”

“So we concentrate the magi at critical strongpoints, and mayhaps extra training in how to counter fire gems.” I shifted my gaze to Greenwall. “In the meantime, let us entertain every idea we can conjure, and one of them is sure to prove effective,” I concluded. “But that will matter little if we lose the war today. How quickly can we contain the breach of the southern gates?”

“Fresh units are coming in from the surface as we speak,” Quest assured me. “The question is how quickly they will arrive, and how far the enemy will advance before we can bring sufficient force to bear to stop them.” His hoof traced along the network of tunnels leading to and from the southern gates. “The further they get, the more places we shall have to stop them from advancing through. A pity we could not collapse more tunnels, or rig them to collapse should the gates fall.”

“The miners would rather not risk bringing half the mountain down on our heads,” Greenwall grunted out. “We only have so many engineers, and most of them are busy building up fortifications, making sure the tunnels we need stay up, widening the killing fields in front of our walls whenever they can, and all the other stuff they gotta do. Plus, a tunnel rigged to collapse when somepony pulls a lever or cuts a rope can end up going down because of bad luck or rebel spies. The rebs almost certainly have agents somewhere within the city.”

Considering Gale had her own informants within the enemy camp whom she remained in contact with prior to her capture, I could not dispute that. ‘Twas never wise to assume that one’s foes were less competent than oneself. 

“We need to delay the enemy advance.” I grimaced down at the map. “If we had more time, we could bring up reinforcements before they move too far. We could even try to reclaim the southern gates. The breach in the wall is narrow, and until they widen it only a trickle of reinforcements can come through.”

I scowled as one way I could have slowed the enemy sprang to mind once more. During the retreat I had considered ordering many of my survivors from the southern gates to hold the nearest tunnel mouth and make the enemy pay for every inch they took. Even if the Dragon’s Teeth formation would not be effective, their sacrifice would have slowed the enemy.

But therein lay the problem: ‘twould assuredly be a sacrifice. Throwing away the lives of good soldiers just to delay the enemy. Despite ordering them to their deaths, I would have to continue mine own withdrawal. Quest, Greenwall and the others needed to know all that I had learned of the enemy advance. Loath though I was to admit it, my life was also more valuable than that of the common soldier. An experienced commander and political leader is a priceless asset in a time of war. ‘Twas why Celestia, Sunbeam, and Morning had gone to such extremes to preserve my life. Throwing my life away would have been foolish.

Yet it also sat poorly with me to order soldiers to certain death whilst I fled to safety. And if word of that should spread within the ranks, many would have cause to doubt my leadership. As too often happens with war, I had faced two unpalatable options, and chosen what I dearly hoped was the least terrible of them. When in doubt, I think it wiser to err on the side of saving lives rather than expending them.

However, the thought of fleeing while my soldiers died did bring an idea for how to stop the enemy advance to mind. “Duels.” Everypony at the table paused in their own discussion, staring at me curiously. “We can challenge the enemy leaders to duels. The warriors of Pegasopolis value their honor too much to refuse, and many advances would halt while the warriors paused to witness the clash itself.” In mine own experience, very few pegasi could resist the temptation to watch an honor duel unfolding, even when they had other duties to attend to.

“And it would allow us the opportunity to remove several important enemy leaders,” Grandmaster Quest agreed, though the frown on his face told another story. “Of course, it also presents them with the chance to remove us.” 

“Precisely,” Sunbeam agreed, openly scowling at me. “And need I remind thee that we have generally fared poorly in such exchanges? I barely managed to rescue thee from that foolishness with Lance, and by all rights thou shouldst have died after what happened with Bright. Not to mention Grandmaster Crossguard’s unfortunate clash against Steel Striker.” She turned a cold, faintly mocking smile upon me. “Tell me, when has offering an honor duel ever worked to our advantage? And let us not forget that the Avatar hates thee intensely. She is sure to be the one who answers thy challenge. Art thou ready to face her in battle? She struck thee down with a single blow when she was still mortal.”

“The plan carries undeniable risks,” I conceded, “but that is the very nature of war itself. If we are successful, we can bolster our own morale at a time when it is no doubt badly shaken, and remove the enemy’s confidence in their own victory. We might even be able to drive the leaderless hordes back through the southern gates and reclaim the battle line.”

“If we win,” Greenwall grunted out. “Big if.”

“Throwing our forces at the enemy is no more certain to bring victory, and will come at a considerably higher price in blood,” I countered. “And I would not suggest challenging the strongest duelists among the enemy.” Mine eyes shifted to Sunbeam Sparkle, and I asked a question to which I already knew her answer. “In a duel, can you defeat their arch-warlock?”

“Hidden Facts?” She leaned back in her seat, a confident smirk on her lips. “Easily.”

“Swift Blade is also a weak personal combatant,” I declared. “And infamous for refusing challenges whenever they are offered. If he refuses my challenge he will show himself a coward to the entire army, and if he accepts, I will cut him down in moments. Either outcome will succeed in delaying the enemy advance and harming their morale.”

Sunbeam grinned, tapping a hoof against her lips. “I will admit, the chance to remove Hidden from the enemy’s ranks is tempting. If we left the warlocks leaderless, they might well turn upon one another until a new leader can murder their way to the top of the pack. And I do not think any of his acolytes are Hidden’s equal in magical skill.”

“It seems a reasonable plan, then,” Grandmaster Quest conceded. “Or at least as reasonable as any other I can think of. I will excuse myself from any duels, however. Should the worst happen we need to retain at least one experienced leader, and ‘twould be unwise to send all our generals into duels and leave none to watch o’er our forces.”

“Prudent,” I agreed. I cast a curious look to Greenwall. “Will you be joining us?”

The earth pony commander rolled his thick shoulders in a shrug. “Might as well. ‘Tis not as if I had anything else planned for today. Past time I showed my soldiers that earth ponies have as much honor as unicorns and pegasi. Most of the rebel earth pony leaders have not impressed me with their skills thus far. Especially as they die or are removed so frequently.”

“There is an appropriate symmetry to it.” Sunbeam observes. “One of each race, and each challenging a member of the other race.”

“Then we are agreed,” I concluded. “Let us go to war.”





We strode towards the enemy lines, accompanied by a healthy honor guard. In the front rank, one of Grandmaster Quest’s knights bore a pair of flags. One the traditional white banner of negotiation, and the other the crossed lances that signalled our intent to issue a formal challenge. Normally such ceremonial touches were not bothered with, but in this case we did want to add a touch of theatricality to it all. After all, the bigger the production, the more enemy soldiers would halt their advance to watch the battle unfold.

The enemy parted ranks when we met them, and by the time we arrived at the southern gates once more a considerable number of rebels were trailing behind us. The gates themselves were naturally swarming with rebel soldiers, and I judged that we had gathered a suitable audience to begin the farce.

The lead knight slammed the base of his flagpole against the stone three times, and the entire enemy camp fell silent. “Hear ye, hear ye!” He announced, his voice carrying easily through the entire cave thanks to some subtle magic on Sunbeam’s part. “My masters—the honorable Shadow Kicker, Guardian of the Realm and faithful shield of the True Queen Celestia, Archmagus Sunbeam Sparkle, the Queen’s strong right hoof, and Captain Greenwall of the loyal Earth Pony Militia forces—do hereby formally challenge the traitor and false ephor Swift Blade, the Arch-warlock Hidden Facts, and Stone Heart, commander of the rebel earth pony forces, to honorable single combat. Let them step forward, or show themselves as craven!”

A stir of hushed conversation rippled through the rebel ranks, and after several seconds I noted a stir amongst the soldiers holding the captured wall. It took nearly a minute, but the crowd slowly parted, and both Swift Blade and Hidden Facts strode forward, marching towards us.

However, the rebel commanders were not accompanied by any earth pony. Much more worryingly, Hidden and Swift both wore triumphant smiles. Swift would only be so pleased with himself if he believed some act of low cunning had ensured his own victory.

Precisely what he had done soon became all too clear as a thick cloud of dark blue mist shot o’er the heads of the rebel soldiers, coming to rest between the two rebel generals. The mist slowly shifted to the shape of an alicorn, and then with a flash became the Avatar herself. She grinned, exposing a pair of barely perceptible but undeniably present fangs. “Alas, Stone Heart died moments ago from wounds he sustained while assaulting your walls.” She flicked her dueling lance, removing fresh blood from it. “As the rightful ruler over the earth ponies, I gladly accept your challenge to single combat in his stead, Shadow.”

Oh. Oh, damnation...