Ice Fall

by Bluespectre


Chapter One - A Winters Dream

ICE FALL

CHAPTER ONE

A WINTERS DREAM

 
“Whose bloody stupid idea was this again? Remind me so I can buck them into next week when we get back will you?” The unicorn pulled his scarf up around his muzzle, blinking away the stinging snow from his eyes. Behind him, the black coated stallion snorted, his warm breath creating clouds of steam around his muzzle,
 
“It’s your own stupid fault we’re out here freezing our nuts off. You and your huge mouth, you just don’t know when to shut up do you?”
 
Shifting his spear into a more comfortable position on his saddle pack, the unicorn shook his head slightly,
 
“For the goddess’s sake Brack, it was a joke that was all. You remember them don’t you? Or have you had your sense of humour sucked out of you like the rest of those miserable buggers.”
 
Bracken raised an eyebrow, fixing his colleague with a stern grey eyed glare, “A joke? You peed in the Captain’s fruit juice and you call that a joke? Are you nuts?!”
 
Chalk Dust shrugged, “It was only a little bit for Celestia’s sake, and besides, it could have been worse.”
 
The black stallion rounded on him, “How? How exactly could it have possibly been worse? We’re out here in the middle of bloody nowhere, half frozen to death with no idea where the hell we are!”
 
“Well”, Chalk said in what he hoped was a philosophical manner, “We could have been executed. Now that would definitely have been worse.”
 
Bracken whacked him in the chest with an armoured hoof, “You, you mean! You could have been executed, not me! I was only dragged into this goddess forsaken mess because I’m the poor sod who bunks with you!”
 
The white stallion huffed, “Well, Captain Fry did say to take a friend, and so…here you are.”
 
Bracken nearly choked, trying to get his words together.
 
“Come on then slowpoke”, Chalk said clopping the other soldier on the shoulder, “We need to find some shelter or we really will freeze to death.”
 
Icy wind whipped around them, the bitter cold causing tiny crystals of ice to form on their exposed fur and around their muzzles. Despite the bright blue sky and sunshine, the plummeting temperature in the mountains was beginning to affect them, slowing their movements as they trudged on towards the largest of the peaks. Bracken shook his mane, trying to bring a little warmth back into his body. Celestia damn this place! It was all Chalky’s fault they were here in the first place and, he hated to admit, his for opening his big mouth in his friends defence. He groaned inwardly. That impetuous damned fool! Captain Shallow Fry was the most unpopular officer in the army for a reason and, as his goddess cursed luck would have it, their superior. That vicious stallion had picked on everypony under his command, including both him and Chalk Dust, so he could certainly understand the resentment, but why in Equestria did Chalky have to go and do something so bloody stupid? Of course, if ‘Private Blabbermouth’ hadn’t told everypony what he’d done, if somepony hadn’t had a crisis of conscience and told the Corporal, if the Corporal hadn’t told…
 
Bracken nickered angrily to himself, squeezing his eyes shut against yet another stinging blast of wind blown snow. It was too late to complain now anyway, the damage was done. Glancing at the other soldier beside him, he inwardly shrugged. The two of them had been friends since foalhood and enlisted in the army together on some bloody stupid whim after a ridiculous argument with their parents that neither of them could remember had been about. At the time it seemed like a really good idea; take that mum and dad! Oh yeah, that had worked out really well hadn’t it? Best of all was their timing too. Five minutes after enlisting, or so it seemed, their beautiful idyllic homeland of Equestria had been turned into a war zone, and as for their home town? Well, that was another story wasn’t it. He took a swig of water from his canteen and shook the snow from his mane and tail. His life had been so certain once, so boringly well planned out. Now, it was full of ‘Ifs’; ‘If’ he’d stayed at home and not run off with his friend to join the army, ‘If’ he’d married the pretty young mare from the harness makers. Damn it, ‘If‘ Princess Luna hadn’t turned into that thing, he may very well have petitioned her to take away the endless nightmares he now kept having every time he tried to get some sleep! But that would never happen now would it? Celestia’s arse! Why was he thinking about that now?
 
A hoof suddenly knocked him on the side of the head,
 
“Hoy! Get a grip Brack will you? Look, there’s a cave over there. Come on, let’s see if we can get out of this blasted wind eh?”
 
Not in any mood to argue, Bracken followed his friends lead, trying to keep to the unicorns hoof prints in the deep snow. Anything was better than staying out there in that weather; he was now so cold his whole body felt numb from his muzzle to his hooves, despite the warmth from his physical exertions. Like the rest of the soldiers back at the barracks, he’d heard stories of ponies who’d been out in the depths of winter, or stationed to the border posts in frozen north, about how bits would….would…
 
He was suddenly aware of the wind noise dying down, replaced by the echoing of their hoofsteps on hard bare rock,
 
“Where…?”
 
Chalk glanced over his shoulder at him, “You okay?” He trotted back, lifting his friends chin up with a hoof while peering into his eyes, “You don’t look so good, buddy. Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”
 
Bracken rolled his eyes. Disgustingly cheerful in most situations, the lithe form of Chalk Dust with his white coat and pale gold mane looked like he was in his natural element out here in the snow. In fact, if it wasn’t for his armour, the fellow would be nigh on invisible. Deftly, the unicorn took off his saddle pack and began magicking items out until he eventually found what he was searching for with a squee of delight. Bracken gritted his teeth; how could he be so…’upbeat’ all the time?! A tiny spark of jealousy flared in his heart. It worried him sometimes just how much he envied that ability to always look on the bright side of things, and here he was doing it again!
 
Chalk Dust popped off the lid of a small canister and began attaching several long metal rods to it before placing a set of small brown paper wrapped packages next to the assembled device. Meanwhile, Bracken reached back and took off his own panniers, using his teeth and hooves to open the buckle and take out their mess tins. Why the hell did they make these things so small? The catches and clips would be no trouble for a unicorn of course, but for earth ponies it was absolutely ludicrous. Weren’t the army supposed to think of these things?
 
“Oh, for the goddess’s sake…” he muttered to himself, desperately trying to open the smaller bag that contained the tins. The clip on this one was even smaller than the last! Normally he didn’t have this sort of trouble of course; earth ponies were generally very good at object manipulation, but this time…
 
With a loud snort of frustration, the strap finally came loose and Bracken was able to extract the elusive mess tins. Unfortunately, the metal food containers were now so frozen they’d virtually fused themselves together. Reluctantly, Bracken pulled off his armoured hoof covers to allow him to gain a better grip on the awkward tins, yet despite his best efforts, his hooves slipped on the smooth cold metal as he tried to pull the uncooperative things apart. Running out of ideas he resorted to using his teeth as well, the enamel glancing off the freezing surface making him wince as a raw metal edge caught his lip painfully. With a loud metallic clatter, the mess tins slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground, the sound echoing around the dim interior of the cave. Bracken had had enough,
 
“Bucking damned things!” he bellowed angrily and delivered a savage kick that sent the mess tins flying across the cave where they clattered into the wall until finally coming to rest in a pile of wind blown snow.
 
Chalk Dust eyed him for a moment. He was worried about his friend; the cold of the mountains was wearing on a pony at the best of times, but laden down with armour and weapons as they were, the going had been far from easy. There was also that constant howling they’d been hearing this last day or so too: a low resonant moaning on the edge of his hearing that he couldn’t quite put his hoof on. Still, whatever it was, at least it wasn’t in here with them, and thank the goddess he’d been able get the fire crystals going. Fortunately it only took the slightest touch of his magic, and the small red gems had begun to glow, sending their warmth out into the cave. Wincing as his muscles reminded him of the strain he’d been putting them through, Chalk took off his pack and let out a loud sigh of relief,
 
“You okay over there dude? Need a hoof?”
 
Bracken however, was still glaring down at the object of his frustration: the hopelessly frozen mess tins,
 
“I can’t…” He spat, staring down at the things, “They’re frozen bloody well solid, and to top it all off I’m shaking so much I can’t even feel my damned legs anymore!”
 
The blue glow of magic from Chalk’s horn enveloped the tins and floated them over to beside the heater,
 
“Get your hairy arse over here you daft bugger and get some warmth into your bones.” Chalk said absently, waving a hoof at the heater, “I’ll see what I can do with these things.”
 
Grumbling, Bracken sank to his haunches by the heater and groaned loudly. Now that he wasn’t using them, he hadn’t realised just how much his legs ached. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he reached down and unclipped his girth strap and began to unbuckle the rest of his gear. Chalk meanwhile, was nonchalantly holding the mess tins over the heater in his magic until, with an audible ‘pop’, the two came apart with apparent ease. Bracken growled,
 
“I wish I had magic, like you. Everything seems so much…’simpler’ somehow”
 
Chalk shrugged off the remark, “Pass us the cans over…”
 
Bracken gripped the ration bag in his teeth and tossed it over to his friend who caught it with his magic. Unhurriedly, the white unicorn began arranging the cans, taking stock of what they had left.
 
“You know”, he said quietly, “I can’t speak for every unicorn out there, but I always envied earth ponies their strength. Magic’s all well and good until you’re up against somepony who’s got stronger magic, more talent, or could cleave you in two with a battle axe.” He smiled up at Bracken, “You know what I’m talking about.”
 
The black unicorn sighed, pulling his cloak in around himself, “Didn’t do us much good then, did it? Brawn or magic, both were equally bloody useless.”
 
“If it wasn’t for your ‘earth ponyness’, I’d be rotting bones right now, Brack, or worse. I’ll never forget that.” He smiled at his friend, giving him a wink with an emerald green eye.
 
Despite his colouring, Bracken could see the way the scars across the white pony’s muzzle made his skin pull slightly when he smiled; a permanent reminder of that terrible day which the unicorn, and he himself, would carry for the rest of their days. He mentally berated himself. How could he be so self centred when his friend had been through so much more than him? Though really, when he thought about it, they’d saved each other on more than one occasion and been through absolute hell together, and now…
 
“So, today’s lunchtime choices are…” Chalk lifted up a can, “carrot and beans, carrot and oat, carrot and cabbage…Mmmm!” He picked up another and examined it with a smirk on his face, “Or…” He held a hoof to his mouth in exaggerated surprise, “Carrot soup!” He laughed, “Hope you like carrots, buddy, or else you’re going hungry.”
 
“Carrot, carrot or carrot, eh?” Bracken chuckled, “Just as well I’m not allergic to bloody carrots then, isn’t it!”
 
“There’s always the low fat option” Chalk replied grinning expansively.
 
“Oh?”
 
“Yeah, you’re sitting on it.”
 
“Ah” Bracken looked down and raised an eyebrow, “Snow”
 
“Yup! Delicious and nutritious, and the best part is that you can have as much as you want!” Chalk chuckled at his friends exasperated expression, “So, whaddaya fancy then, private?”
 
“Guess I’ll go with the carrot and oat if that’s okay. You’re the chef”
 
Chalk Dust began to open one of the cans, “’Course. For myself, I think I’ll go with the cabbage option today, perhaps a light Chianti to wash it down and a few hors-d'oeuvres to nicely round off our delicious repast in style.”
 
Chalks eyes sparkled in the magical light from the fire crystals, making Bracken laugh despite himself. Regardless of their current situation, things could definitely be a hell of a lot worse. The white unicorn with the pale gold mane currently stirring the gunge like slop in his mess tin was virtually completely white when you stood back from him. Sadly, many back at the barracks, fully grown pony’s too, had been wary around the young unicorn because of his colouring as, unfortunately, it made him stand out like a sore hoof. In a world of colourful equines, standing out from the crowd was something that might seem like a bit of a misnomer, but the war had changed everypony, and not for the better. Suspicion, distrust and hoof pointing at one another had spread like an epidemic throughout Equestria, an Equestria where the very thought of such behaviour only a few short months earlier would have been scoffed at as rampant paranoia. Now, it was the norm.
 
They all knew, every single one of them, that nopony could hide in their home and pretend the world was still the same as it had once been. Now, Ponies, Thestrals, Minotaurs, Griffins and Celestia knew what else, were all busy taking sides and trying to carve out a slice of the land for themselves. In the case of the Legion, that meant taking all the land. Celestia and Luna, the princesses…how had it come to this? Why? None of it made any sense at all; in fact, the world didn’t make any sense. Bracken sighed. Growing up he’d been a happy foal for the most part. His parents were notable farriers, and damned good at what they did too. They certainly weren’t rich, but not poor either. Reputation meant a great deal to a small business and ponies from all over would come to their home for new shoes, hoof covers, and other small metal worked items that they’d branched into over the years.
 
His dad had wanted his son to follow in his hoof steps naturally, but there was something strangely off putting about holding another pony’s hoof to shoe them which he just didn’t fancy. He shrugged to himself and adjusted his cloak; it was just another foolish part of his foalhood, one more path he’d failed to tread as fate had rolled inexorably on with him, apparently, just along for the ride. Come to think of it, how were mum and dad doing now? He hadn’t seen them for ages, not since…
 
A wooden spoon bopped him hard on the nose,
 
“Ow! Damn it Chalky!” Bracken yelped, “What the hell was that for?!”
 
His mess tin was unceremoniously shoved under his muzzle, Chalk Dust’s green eye’s watching him intensely,
 
“Dinner’s ready”
 
Bracken took the mess tin and had a quick swig of his water. Why was his mouth so dry? He gave his friend an apologetic smile, “Sorry. Look, thanks, I think my mind was wandering a bit there.”
 
“You reckon?” Chalk asked, an uncharacteristic level of sarcasm in his voice, “I was talking to you for ages and there you were staring off into space!” He placed his own mess tin on the heater, dumping a similarly gloopy looking mixture into it, “It’s bad enough being stuck out here in the middle of…’nothing’ without having to talk to yourself too.”
 
“Okay!” Bracken announced, holding up a hoof, “I said I’m sorry, there’s no need to bite my head off Chalky. I was just daydreaming, that’s all.”
 
The white pony hung his head a moment, “I…Yeah, you’re right Brack. I don’t know…”
 
Bracken looked up from him meal questioningly, “Hmm?”
 
“It’s nothing…”
 
Chalk Dust stared into his mess tin, the brown goo was already starting to bubble around the edges as he stirred it with his wooden spoon. Mother had carved that out of a solid block of wood so many years ago it all seemed to have happened to somepony else. He missed her, her smile, the way she would always seem to know when he was upset or hurting inside. She was an incredibly intuitive and talented mare; his mother’s skills in woodworking were a true marvel to behold too. As another village craftspony, it seemed only natural that the two families, Brackens and his own, would eventually gravitate towards each other, and even become friends. Similarly, Chalk Dust had quickly befriended the black pony with the blue mane, tail and slate grey eyes. He had been surprisingly open to him when they’d first met, despite his unusual appearance.
 
Chalks dad had disappeared when he was still a foal, leaving Lake, his mother, to raise him as a lone parent. The villagers were kind and helpful of course, as ponies tended to be by nature, but the children at school…they were another matter. His white coat and pale gold mane made him look almost completely white at a distance and in certain lights. Foals being foals, they’d locked onto this distinguishing feature and had made his life a living hell. ‘Ghost’, they’d called him, and sometimes he’d wished he was. Their teasing and bullying had been endless, a never ending stream of abuse, jibes and cruel pranks that followed him wherever he went.
 
He’d tried to play along at first of course, accepting their behaviour with good grace and a smile. Mum had always said not to ‘lower yourself to their level’, and to ‘rise above it’. He snorted, rubbing his nose with a foreleg. It was all very well to say such things when you weren’t the poor bugger getting it in the neck. Half the problem here too, was that by not reacting, he’d actually ended up as an even bigger target when somepony wanted to have a laugh at his expense. Only Bracken of all the ponies at school had stood by his side, showing him understanding and care when nopony else would listen; not even his teachers. But then, Bracken hadn’t always been there when the bullies decided to target him. Quickly realising the naturally strong earth pony would stand by the white unicorn, the rougher element at the school simply waited until he was out of the way to ply their cruel trade.
 
Chalk sniffed the air. What was that smell? It smelled nice whatever it was, a sort of earthy cherry scent…
 
“What the…?”
 
Bracken let out a long thin plume of smoke, sighing happily,
 
“You know, there’s not much left, so I thought I’d just kick back and make the most of it”
 
Chalk glowered at him, “You rotten sod, you know I fancied some of that!” He rammed a spoonful of his meal into his mouth and cringed as the horrible taste hit him.
 
There was a quiet sound of something being placed beside him and he looked down to see his own bogwood pipe, neatly packed with the pungent tobacco and a pack of matches beside it. He looked up at the black coated stallion, who gave him a grey eyed wink,
 
“For after dinner of course. Unless we’re having desert?”
 
Chalk shook his head in wonderment and tried to hide his smile as he tucked into his dinner. Goddesses, it really was bloody awful!
 
Neither of them spoke until their mess tins were cleaned and put away, their gear checked and bedding rolls laid out. If nothing else, at least the monotonous repetition of army life had made some of the more mundane tasks now almost so mechanical they barely even registered. The heater was working well though, but it was still bitterly cold in the cave and the small device’s warmth only radiated so far. Bracken rubbed his muzzle to try and warm it up a little. At least their bedding rolls would keep them off the rocky cave floor and provide some sort of insulation.
 
“You okay, Chalky?” Bracken asked quietly, snuggling himself down into his bedding, “Not like you to, you know, over-think stuff.”
 
His friend nodded. He was right of course, it wasn’t like him at all. It must be this place: the barren landscape, the cold, and that bloody terrible moaning howl that never seemed to end. His horn was itching too, it was just a background tickle, but Celestia’s ample arse, it was driving him up the wall!
 
“Sorry buddy”, he said quietly. Rubbing his forelegs together and blowing on them, Chalk tried to breathe some warmth into his joints, “I keep remembering things, stuff from home…bad things.” He sighed, “Just ignore me.”
 
A black hoof reached across and tucked the bedding in around the white unicorn’s neck,
 
“You’re my friend Chalky. If you want to talk, I’m right here you know.”
 
Chalk smiled. His body may be cold, but Bracken always seemed to know just what to say to warm his heart,
 
“Thanks Brack, really. Let’s just get some kip though, eh? I want to be up early in the morning to try and get our bearings.”
 
Bracken closed his eyes, “I just want to get out of this bloody snow.” He said taking a deep breath, “I don’t like this place, and I don’t like the way it’s messing with my head either. It feels wrong here, Chalky. I can’t put my hoof on it, but it’s not right.”
 
The white unicorn looked past his friend and out to the snow that was still swirling and billowing outside. The moaning of the wind sent a chill into his soul,
 
“Yeah…” he murmured, “It’s not right.”
 
This far north, the land was in a perpetual state of winter. Nopony in their right mind would live here. There was precious little to eat, almost no shelter to speak of and there were also those haunting tales of the ‘things’ who called these mountains their home; beasts that could rend your heart from your still living body. Still, these thoughts were not for now. If he dwelt on his fears too much, he’d never get to sleep at all. With a final expansive yawn, Chalk pulled his bedding over his head after a final check that his sword was near to hoof.
 
Outside the stormy night continued unabated.
 

**********************

 
“Hey ghostie, your mum know you been bleaching your hair? Miss won’t like that, won’t like it at all. We’ll tell her too!”
 
Chalk sighed, “I don’t bleach it,” he said levelly, “it’s natural, can’t you see that?”
 
Heath sneered at him, a sing-song note to his sarcastic voice, “Nah, you look like you bleach it, like you’re the sort who thinks he’s better than the rest of us. That’s it ain’t it? You think you’re somepony? Like your family are so high and mighty?”
 
It was useless to argue, and Celestia knows how he’d managed put up with their incessant jibes before, but this time, for some reason the larger foal’s stinging words really hit home. Chalk knew his family weren’t better than anypony else’s, of course they weren’t, in fact the reality was far from it. Heath didn’t realise just how lucky he was: he had both a mother and a father, a family unit that Chalk could only dream of. Mum had raised him by herself and had had to work long hours to try and make enough bits to support them all since dad had vanished. She’d been so busy, worked so hard, that he’d hardly ever seen her; she was so tired all the time, so, so tired. He’d wanted to help her, he really had, but he was so young and small he just got in the way. He felt so useless, so helpless, and now…
 
“Hur, hur! He don’t have no daddy, so he’s ‘somepony’ alright” sneered a smaller blue foal. Chalk recognised him vaguely, he was one of the school ‘rats’ that hung around with the bigger ones, waiting for crumbs to fall from their masters table or otherwise attempting to ingratiate themselves with the bigger bully. “There’s a name for ponies like that…” he said, narrowing his eyes, “you wanna know what they call ‘em?”
 
Chalk gritted his teeth, “Don’t…”  
 
“Heh, I know that word”, Heath grinned, bringing his muzzle close to Chalks ears, “I can tell you if you like. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, ghostie?”
 
“Don’t…”
 
The large brown and white foal cocked his head on one side,
 
“What?”
 
Chalk’s voice was faint, distant, “…Don’t call me it.”  
 
Heath laughed, his fetid breath wafting over his intended victim, “Oh? Getting a little upset are we? Oh dear!” He looked back at his blue coated sidekick, “Says we shouldn’t call him that, Inky, whadda you think?”
 
The blue one clopped his hooves in glee, “Say it! Say it!”
 
Chalk Dust opened his eyes, staring down at the polished tile floor, wishing he was somewhere, anywhere, but there. Goddesses help him, how could Celestia allow this? Where was she when he needed her?
 
 
Rough hooves suddenly slammed him up against the wall by the water fountain, a pair of menacing pale violet eyes boring into his. Heath smirked, his lips curling up as he took a deep breath and breathed out next to Chalk’s ear. His voice was little more than the barest whisper but carried all the derision and bitterness of his young twisted soul. Whether it was Heath’s intention to wound his victims’ heart or not didn’t matter, the word alone was enough,
 
Bastard…”
 
Thunder rumbled overhead as a sudden surge of purple light engulfed the corridor, so bright that ponies at the other end including those nearest cried out in fright, shielding their eyes. A blood chilling scream of unleashed pain and fury rolled out down the halls, rattling the windows and blowing open doors in some unseen wind. The ensuing blast of destructive magic blinded Chalk as it radiated out from him, gathering pace in an expanding, raging storm of unbridled fury.
 
Windows began to blow out down the corridor one by one, doors ripped off their hinges like matchwood and floor tiles cracking from the immense pressure. Pain lanced through Chalks head like white hot fire brands, but something else accompanied it, a sense of…anger, anger and…euphoria. He’d never used much magic before, little beyond than which was needed for everyday object manipulation like any unicorn, but now, now he would use it freely, and this little rat, this vermin, would pay for what he’d called him.
 
The world disappeared in a whirling maelstrom of magic, the shouts of his fellow students and the groaning of the building as it swayed under the magical assault finally beginning to ebb away as he reached the point of exhaustion. A few feet away, the bloodied and mangled form of a small brown and white foal lay in a heap of broken limbs against the wall. Cracked paint and blood spatter marked the place where he’d been slammed helplessly into it like a rag doll, the slick red streaks trailing down to where the bully, Heath, lay in a motionless heap. A thick red liquid, shining in the sunlight streaming through the shattered windows, spread out in an ever expanding puddle.
 
Chalk staggered, the sudden expenditure of magical energy far beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. Images blurred as the world around him suddenly lurched and he grabbed the splintered remains of a window sill, vomiting up the contents of his stomach.
 
In the distance, somepony was screaming.
 

********************

 

Already darkened by the magic of the princess of the night, what little light was left was rapidly disappearing into thick shadow. Moments later, a sound like hail hammered down around him, accompanied by occasional cries and shouts. Damn it all! What the hell was going on? Hemmed in on all side by his comrades, Bracken couldn’t see much out of his heavy steel helmet, nor for that matter past the pony before him. It was stiflingly hot in the armour already, and with his breath condensing inside the helmet too, it was making wearing the heavy metal plating even more uncomfortable.
 
He’d been one of the lucky ones, he supposed, in some respects at least. Most of the younger ponies had been issued little more than leather barding, chainmail or whatever else they could scrounge up from the goddess knew where. More than a few in fact had nothing more than what they’d been wearing at the time they’d been drafted. As fortune would have it, his father had been making a set of plate armour for a neighbouring village’s elder when the news came back that he’d been killed in a skirmish with Nightmare Moon’s forces during the early days of the invasion. With payment already made and nopony coming to collect it, his father had reluctantly given it to his son; probably on the understanding he’d knock all the dents out and polish it again when he got back. In fact, with the amount he was sweating and overheating in the thing now he was wearing it, its protective qualities were starting to seem of somewhat less importance than say breathing.
 
Bracken sighed and tried to scratch his nose. His hoof clanged noisily against the armour, the cold steel denying him the relief of…wait…
 
“Hey…hey buddy!”
 
The pony next to him turned to face him, his eyes as wide as saucers and foam leaking from the corners of his mouth. Whether the poor fellow was filled with either terror or madness, he couldn’t say. Bracken shook his head,
 
“Er, sorry, it’s okay, I thought you were somepony else…”
 
The strange pony flicked his head back to face the front and fidgeted with the spear he was leaning on. ‘Some ponies’, Bracken reasoned, ‘really shouldn’t be here’. For that matter, he shouldn’t be here! Where was Chalky?  Damn it, that bloody itching!
 
He nudged the pony on the other side of him, “Pssst, hey….Hey!”
 
The peach coloured mare stared at him a moment before hissing under her breath,
 
“What?”
 
“Um…” Bracken felt a sudden tinge of embarrassment, “Could you, you know, give my muzzle a quick scratch? I’ve got a hell of an itch and it’s driving me crazy.”
 
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes going wide,
 
“Have you lost your mind!? We’re in the middle of a battle and you want me to scratch your bloody muzzle?”
 
Bracken tried to smile, “Please?”
 
The mare shook her head, “Oh for…” Reaching out a hoof she opened her mouth to speak as the horns blew,
 
“It’ll have to wait, we’re moving.”
 
Hell fire! So close! Distracted, Bracken turned back to face the front as the whole army, or so it felt, began to move slowly forward. The sound of so many moving at once was deafening, the rumbling echo of hooves, the clank of armour, even the stink of sweat and fear, permeated everything. If only he could see! He wasn’t a tall pony by any stretch of the imagination, about average really, but even if he was taller, looking through the slits in the helmet’s visor gave the wearer a strangely surreal outlook on the world. In some ways, he was becoming used to it, but it was still rather like staring through a letterbox from several inches away. It was probably bloody pointless anyway, what with the amount of regular soldiers here protecting the flanks of their army and the princess of the sun on their side. More than likely he’d be on his way back to the barracks tomorrow; tired, but able to tell the guys, “I was there, dude, I fought at the battle of…” Actually, come to think it where was this?
 
Another horn blew and everypony halted. Goddesses, it was so hot in this thing! Bracken sighed; he couldn’t waft air into it because even his legs were armoured. The last time he’d tried that, he’d forgotten the steel hoof covers and nearly managed to give himself concussion. ‘Come to think of it’, he thought bitterly to himself, ‘concussion wouldn’t be so bad. At least I wouldn’t be so sodding bored’.
 
Taking a deep calming breath, he closed his eyes and exhaled. Bloody hell, when were Nightmare Moon’s forces going to attack? They were nothing more than a rag tag band of cutthroats and mercenaries after all, weren’t they? At least, that’s what they’d been told. It had taken a while of course, but the army had finally managed to pin them down here in this valley and now, there they stood, up on the other side of the river. Once the Celestian forces descend from the forest road and arrived on the level plain though, his vision had been reduced to the arse of the fellow in front of him. Whoever it was, was clearly having trouble controlling their bowels too; the acrid stench filling Bracken’s nostrils every now and again made him want to heave.
 
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he imagined this would be the sort of memory that he wouldn’t be writing down in his memoirs. He smiled to himself. Maybe one day…one day he would sit there beside the fire in the tavern and tell the younger ones of how he’d fought at the great battle of…’something or other’, and faced down Nightmare Moon and her Legion! Staring into a pony’s arse half the morning and being subjected to a near constant barrage of farts however, wasn’t quite going to capture the imagination.
 
His ruminations were interrupted by a shadow passing across the sun once more and another loud rattle of hail came down around him. Several hard ‘things’ impacted his armour including his helmet and made his ears ring. What the hell was that? Bracken looked around irritably, quickly spotting the long shafts of several heavy looking arrows protruding from the ground here and there. The mare beside him looked pale, her face drained of colour. Her lips quivered, her voice shaking,
 
“Can…can you…”

The shaft of an arrow poked up from her pack, the fletching shiny and slick with…blood? No, not blood…jam.
 
“It’s okay,” Bracken chuckled with relief, “It’s hit your provisions. Guess you’re one lucky pony.”
 
She didn’t say anything, just nodded her head and fell forward slowly onto the soft earth.
 
“Hey! You alright? Wha…?
 
The mare’s eyes rolled up into her head as another pony behind her grabbed her hind legs and began pulling the peach coloured pony back through the lines. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, she’d been replaced with another earth pony. Bracken stared in amazement: just like that, you’re here, then you’re not here. But, what had happened to her? She wasn’t hurt was she? Maybe he hadn’t seen something, something he’d missed. Could he have helped her? His mind reeled, running over the possibilities while behind him the horns blew their insistent refrain once again.
 
A shout from up ahead was the precursor for an almost solid wall of noise that slammed into him and reverberated inside his helmet. Damn it, why did he need armoured bloody ears guards! He reached up to undo the catches and paused; maybe getting your head split open wasn’t quite the exciting experience he wanted from army life. He quickly lowered his hoof. When it came to a choice between discomfort and death, it wasn’t exactly a fair contest.
 
The pony in front of him seemed to tense and suddenly evacuated his bowels.
 
“Oh for Celestia’s sake!”
 
Bracken tried to jump back, only to be shoved hard in the rump by the pony behind him. The reek of excrement and urine hit his nostrils like a sledgehammer, the steaming odour somehow amplified within the helmet’s confines. Unbidden, Bracken had a sudden mental image of the little droplets of concentrated stink condensing on the metal and entering…
 
“-Move it, damn you!”
 
He bit back a reply as the pony behind roughly shoved him forward. Grumbling, Bracken faced his front once again, but the soldier that had been there only moments before had gone, replaced by a bloodied mass disappearing back through the ranks just at the edges of his vision. He turned his head to see what was left of the body being dragged amidst the sodden mess of the owners own bodily fluids. Bracken swallowed; he was edging ever nearer the front line.
 
Beyond the pony before him, he could make out movement; a mass of black writhing something, the occasional flash of steel and the bright colourful glow of magical energy discharge. He tried looking up but the neck guard prevented much more than a few inches of freedom either way. Still, it was enough. High above him, the bursts of light were more intense, the clouds laced with flashes of magical discharge every colour of the rainbow, each glittering spark of that ethereal light as deadly as the other.
 
 He watched as pegasi, griffins and other creatures he didn’t recognise, dodged between those lights, shooting crossbows and weaving around…fire? Oh goddesses, he’d heard of them, but…dragons? Surely not, not out here?
 
One of the ponies cried out,
 
“The sun! Look at the sun!”
 
Bracken stared as the golden light of the sun disappeared behind a dark bank of cloud so thick and black as to almost blot it out completely. Suddenly the air felt a lot colder, the icy winds of winter catching on his fur and making his teeth chatter. It was magic alright, it had to be; you didn’t get weather like this at this time of year, did you?
 
High in the air a plume of white, somewhat like a small cloud, scudded across the sky trailing what looked like steam, or maybe…smoke? Bracken wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it was heading right for them. One of the others had noticed too, the stallion standing on his hind legs and pointing up at it,
 
“Celestia save us…”
 
Bracken frowned, “What is it?” he shouted over the noise.
 
The other pony said nothing, merely staring up at the approaching thing still high in the sky. In mere seconds, the white image appeared to coalesce into a being, almost equine in shape. Frozen in fascinated horror, Bracken watched as the white creature plummeted towards them like a comet, unleashing a blood chilling howl that sounded like it was from another world, a terrifying world, one that made him want to turn tail and run until his legs gave out on him. In his mind, the creatures cry was the sound of the frozen north, the bitterest chill of winters’ merciless grip upon the land. Beside him, one of the ponies was praying, his eyes squeezed tight and lips moving with the words,
 
“…goddess, preserve our souls….”
 
Bracken sniffed, hefting his sword. He wasn’t a religious pony, but a little divine help wouldn’t go amiss right now. Whatever that thing was above them, he couldn’t do a damned thing about it, so he did the only thing he could: he looked straight ahead, and waited. A heavy crash of steel from nearer the front mingled with various grunts and shrieks. A shout from behind made him look round in time to see a bolt of golden light flash through the sky above them, instantly turning the white cloud pony-like thing into ash.
 
A voice called out jubilantly, “The princess! The princess is with us!”
 
A huge spontaneous cheer and enthusiastic shouting rose from around him like a wave rolling up to the shoreline, the surging noise thrumming through the ground and making his heart soar.
  
It spoke to him, calming his nerves; they could win this, they would win this! They all knew the sun princess was invincible, unstoppable, her unimaginable power and strength was a legend amongst both young and old alike. Bracken smiled wryly, narrowing his eyes,
 
“Oh, hell yeah…”
 
Moments later, the pony before him fell, simultaneously lost amidst a whirling mass of black wings, teeth and flaring red eyes. The thestral bore down upon him.
 
Adrenalin kicked in, its electrifying rush fizzing through Bracken’s body. Baring his teeth, the earth pony gripped his sword harder, his heart hammering in his chest,
 
“COME ON YOU BASTARD!”
 
He screamed wordlessly while the near skeletal image of the thestral, clad in wickedly spiked black armour, hacked and battered its way towards him. Behind the creature, the dark mass of the enemy surged as if it were some single monstrous entity. The slick black tide of warriors rippled and shook, their weapons sparkling in the light from the magical energy bursts filling the sky above them.
 
The thestral swung its huge axe with its forehooves, the blade crashing through the ranks before it, and coming straight for him. Ponies shrieked and yelled around him, some trying to get away, others desperately attempting a defence. They were mostly new recruits too, untested in the crucible of battle. Goddess protect him, he’d never fought anything more than a sparring partner himself and yet their commander had put them in the centre of the battle lines with the regulars on the flanks. The intention was no doubt to try and bolster their morale, but most of the ponies in the formation had little more than rudimentary training and against these…’things’, their inexperience was now all too apparent. Many of them had rushed off to join the fight against Nightmare Moon’s army, the Legion, with little to no knowledge of what warfare was outside of dusty old books and even dustier village tales. The merciless crucible war was a hell of a way to learn how that excitement and enthusiasm was no match for good equipment and training, and now, the murderous storm of war hit them with all its lethal ferocity.
 
Bracken’s eyes went wide, his muscles shaking with an exhilarating mixture of sheer terror and determination. The nightmarish image before him swung its heavily bladed axe up into the chest of a stallion, the hapless male grunting and spewing out a gout of blood before falling like so much boneless meat. Wasting no time, the black coated warrior wrenched his weapon free and kicked out, knocking another of the young ones sprawling back into their comrades.
 
Trumpets blared in the background, but in his state of near delirium, Bracken barely heard it. The thestral seemed to pause, unsure about something; a split second later, the near skeletal killing machine took a step back then glowered back at him, baring its teeth and hissing out a wisp of smoke. Snorting loudly, Bracken dug his hind legs into the ground and threw himself at his enemy even as the flames the creature spewed out engulfed him.
  
It was over in seconds, but to Bracken the world felt as if it had slowed horribly around him, his comrades shouts and cries lost in a flickering yellow and red glare. The stink of burning hair assailed him, mingled with the reek of sweat and gore from the writhing mass beneath him. In a mixture of both shock and surprise, Bracken opened his eyes and looked down. His hooves were slick with warm blood. Like a tree growing out of the black soil, his sword’s hilt protruded from the unarmoured underbelly of the thestral warrior. It was still alive…barely.
 
Bracken’s heartbeat drowned out all other sound, beating in time with the rapid rise and fall of the chest belonging to his foe. He couldn’t stop staring at it. How did that happen? What the hell was happening? As he watched, the creatures head came up and fixed him with a red eyed stare for just the barest of moments before dropping back to the ground, its breathing slowing and then, gradually, it stopped. Just…stopped. Bracken felt a wave of cold wash through his body. The confidence he’d felt earlier, the surreal experience of battle driving out any thought of…
 
“What the hell are you doing, soldier?! Pick up your weapon and get back in the line!”
 
A white coated stallion with piercing blue eyes and golden armour grabbed him by his shoulders and hauled him to his hooves,
 
“Move it!”
 
Bracken shook his head and gripped the hilt of his sword, pulling the blade free. Thank the goddesses he couldn’t hear the sound it made with all the din around him, but he could still feel it, the way it dragged and sucked back into the gaping wound turned his stomach. Gritting his teeth, he stepped over the creature and glanced up into the eyes of the officer,
 
“Sorry, sir”
 
The pony stared back at him, a slight curl to his mouth,
 
“You’ll do well, son” he said, clopping Bracken on the shoulder, “Do your best today.”
 
“Yes, sir”
 
Bracken blinked. The field before him was littered with the dead and dying, both ponies and thestrals, together with some other creatures he’d never seen before. Goddess willing, he’d be able to have a closer look at them when all this was over and he’d be able to meet up with Chalky.
 
“Damn it, here they come again!” Somepony shouted.
 
A tide of black surged towards them, the black coated and armoured pony-like beings howling and waving weapons half as big as he was. He barely had time to blink before they crashed into the Celestian lines once more. The young soldiers of the sun princess buckled but stood their ground, trading blow for blow with the forces of the moon. Colourful light caught on the edges of the glistening weapons and armour of both sides: swords, axes, spears, all were equally employed in the deadly trade of killing upon that terrible ground.
 
Bracken couldn’t think anymore. He couldn’t go forward, couldn’t retreat. Hemmed in from every side, all he could do now was fight, fight and hope to the goddesses he would survive this hell.
 
Ponies either side of him pushed, swung, stabbed and hacked at their enemy, who in turn replied with brutal efficiency. Another thestral suddenly appeared to Bracken’s front, blocking his desperate attacks with disturbing ease. Thankfully, the creature’s blows barely connected, glancing off his own parries and blocks, just as he’d been trained. In fact, it seemed surprisingly easy considering how skilled the first one he’d encountered had been. Maybe this one wasn’t as experienced, not quite as strong. After all, he was no weakling himself; the years of helping his parents with metal working had built up Bracken’s back and leg muscles nicely, and yet…something was niggling at the edges of his awareness. Almost subconsciously he pulled the next blow, watching the thestral’s reaction. The beast recoiled like a snake from the impact, moving back as if hit by one a great deal harder than the one he’d landed. Bracken looked into the beasts’ eyes, scrutinising the deep purple burning flames that stared back at him. The thestral narrowed its eyes, its lips twitching beneath the curl of a battery of menacingly sharp teeth. Letting out a whuff of smoke…it grinned.
 
Cold realisation dawned on Bracken, that freezing wash of certainty that screamed out that you knew something terrible was about to happen, yet no matter how much you struggled, nor how much you cried out…it was all far, far too late. Fate had already made her decision.
 
Shouts rang out around him.
 
“They’re falling back!”
 
“Push harder!”
 
“By the goddess, they’re running!”
 
“Finish them!”
 
A surging tide of armoured ponies washed around Bracken as he stood there immobile, his sword held in his hooves watching the inexplicably fleeing mass of black armoured warriors.
 
Trumpets blared around him. He recognised it from his training, the plaintive and now utterly impotent sound of the recall. These young warriors, little more than colts and fillies filled with excitement and adrenalin, were now far beyond the control of their officers, most of whom now joined the headlong pursuit of their foe.
 
Staring in disbelief, Bracken stood rooted to the spot as a golden armoured stallion ran past him, halted, then turned back to him,
 
“Stay here soldier. Any who come back your way, try to make them rally on you. Understand?”
 
Bracken blinked in surprise, “Yes, Captain Spark”
 
The officer reached out and clopped him on the shoulder, his voice a bare whisper amidst the din of war, “Goddess bless you”.
 
And with that, he was gone.
 
Seconds passed, maybe minutes, in the confines of the armour and the surreal situation that was unfolding around him it was impossible to tell for certain, when the first of the ponies ran past him. Captain Silver Spark had been right. Damn it all, he’d been right! Sure enough, one by one, the trickle of panicked equines quickly escalated into a flood.
 
He tried to stop them: shouting, cajoling, even screaming at his comrades to stand with him, to rally with him, but nothing worked. It was hopeless. Fear, terror and the true horrors of battle had mercilessly battered their way into the hearts of the young soldiers and now the forces of the princess of the sun, so confident of victory only moments earlier, were beginning to crumble.
 
His heart racing in his chest, Bracken reared on his hind legs, holding his sword aloft “Damn you all!” he cried, “Celestians, stand, stand with me!”
 
A dun mare collided with him, her eyes wide, white foam dripping from her muzzle, “They’re demons! Demons are upon us! We have to get away!”
 
He let her go. Demons?
 
More and more of them charged past him, all as eager in flight as they had been to pursue their enemy. Now, the tables turned, the young Celestian warriors were running for the heartlands as fast as their legs would carry them. And no wonder…
 
Howling, grunting and snarling, a massive wall of horned beasts hacked and cut their way through the fleeing equines. Those who weren’t quick enough, either due to wounds, or simply unlucky enough to be in their way, were cut down, butchered as if they were as substantial as smoke. Bracken felt himself beginning to tremble involuntarily. He’d heard of them, but never seen one in the flesh…
 
Minotaurs.
  
The great bull like things charged towards him, a dark tidal wave of steaming, beady eyed, heavily muscled death. All he could do was wait, gripping his sword so hard his hooves ached. In his fear and excitement, Bracken felt an unexpected wash of calm, his heart beat drowned out with a sense of cold inevitability. He was going to die here; it was going to happen and there was nothing he could do about it. But by all the gods and goddesses of the eternal herd, he would take as many of these scum with him as he could. He spat, hefting his sword,
 
“Come on then, you ugly stinking vermin! Come get some!”
 
Shifting his weight to his hind legs, Bracken waited for the inevitable impact. And then, like a miracle sent by the goddess, a sudden cry of anger and rage erupted from the heaving mass as the golden armoured form of Captain Silver Spark galloped through the packed ranks of armoured minotaurs like the sun shining in the night sky.
 
If anypony noticed, if anypony was left to care, it didn’t matter now. The powerful stallion ran the first minotaur through with a lance, the shaft snapping off like a twig. In virtually the same instant, his sword was free, gutting the unarmoured belly of another minotaur whose axe was raised high above its head, poised to strike down the pony who had dared to stand against them.
 
Bracken stared open mouthed, willing his legs to move, but the cursed things steadfastly refused to budge. He willed himself forward, but his mouth was bone dry and now even his own body was denying him the most basic of movement. Spitting on the ground, he closed his eyes, and tried to get his breath back, to find that calm centre once more. He looked up, lifted his sword, and saw the last moments of the Captain as a black hafted spear, large enough to kill a beast three times his size, erupted from his side in a fountain of blood and gore.
 
Shrieking in impotent rage and hatred, Bracken charged.
 

****************************

 
High above the field bursts of fire, magic, and eye searing lightning illuminated the sky in a deadly display of colour. The sun was now all but blotted out completely by the encroaching darkness that shrouded the massed enemy forces in the valley. Ponies far below stared up in horror as the radiant symbol of their beloved princess was engulfed in an ethereal shroud as black as night. The Legion, Nightmare Moon’s army, emboldened by the flight of the Celestian centre, pushed on with a renewed energy. Their goal was so close now, so tantalisingly close, and everypony could feel it in the air.
 
Bracken could sense it too; the raw power of their enemy already revelling in the fear and panic of the Celestians. High above him, magical energy of a power far beyond anything he had ever seen before burst back and forth, the concentrated beams of deadly light lancing through the air. Occasionally, a stray blast would hit the ground, incinerating any living thing it touched. Bursting through the cloud bank, he caught a glimpse of white, a glitter of gold, sweeping down and around…Celestia. Bracken looked on in impotent horror as he watched the princess engage in mortal combat with a huge beast from the blackest depths of his worst nightmares. It was the emerald dragon, the monstrous female that had been spoken about back in the barracks only in hushed tones as if the merest mention of her name could invoke her wrath. There could be no doubt who that was; it was Etrida, the elder dragon.
 
The two clashed, disappearing from sight between the clouds, shrouded in the glow of magic and fire. And then…horribly, he saw her fall. It was hard to see, so difficult with the smoke and shadowy movements around him, but he had seen enough for it to send a chill through his soul. The princess, their leader and beloved goddess… was gone.
 
Bracken coughed, the iron taste of blood rich in his mouth. The armour was leeching all the heat from him, the foul air making it incredibly hard to breathe. Had it been this cold earlier? Damn it, it was like the middle of the night! He tried to stand, but his legs refused to obey him and he remained there like a lead weight, pinned to the ground under…something.
 
What the hell had happened? One moment he’d attacked the minotaurs and then, and then…this. He began to shiver with the cold, the night air icy yet soothing in a strange way. Bracken blinked, trying to stay awake. Where was he? Why was this…
 
This one’s still alive, sir.
 
Voices.
 
Not for much longer by the looks of him. Finish him off, there’s nothing we can do.
 
Who were they talking about? Bracken tried again to stand, grunting with effort, his breath pluming around his muzzle. He caught the flash of a blade, the moonlight glinting along its edge as it rose above him. All he could think of was one word...
 
“Why”
 
A female voice, deep and commanding, full of exotic mystery and allure, rolled around him,
 
“HOLD.”
 
Bracken strained to see, to look beyond the encroaching darkness that was beginning to narrow his vision. As he tried to focus, a beautifully engraved silver and black metal hoof cover appeared beside him. He followed it up, up along the elegant leg the colour of midnight, past the magnificent armour and up to the flowing black mane and azure eyes of…
 
“Bring the pony to my tent, Lieutenant”
 
There was a distinct clang of metal on metal followed by a deep male voice,
 
By your divine guidance
 
He fell. Sucked down into the depths of unconsciousness, far from the noise and clash of battle, far from the world he knew. Bracken’s last view of the world was of the night sky, that pure blue-black pall that shrouded the land punctuated by countless glittering diamonds. Mother had said they were the souls of ponies that had gone to be with the gods and goddesses in the eternal herd. Maybe now he would be joining them, leaving this life and all its woes behind. It wasn’t so bad really, it was just…like going to sleep…
 
“Such a pretty thing. So warm, so pure of heart…”
 
Bracken’s eyes flew open. Where was he? Oh goddesses, that voice!
 
“What?!” he gasped, “Where…”
 
“-are you?” the voice interrupted silkily, “Why, I suppose that depends upon you now, my fine young stallion.”
 
Bracken sat bolt upright, staring around himself at the village, the glow from the windows falling upon him and outlining his coat in its yellow light. He turned, searching for the source of the voice, but there was nopony there. He was completely alone. What the hell was going on?
 
“Who are you?” he said to world at large, “What’s going on?”
 
The door to the cottage opened and a familiar pony stuck her head out, “Bracken? Good heavens you silly colt, what in Equestria are you doing out here at this time of night?” the pewter coated mare shook her rust coloured mane, “Get inside you silly thing before you catch a chill!”
 
He took a step forward and paused,
 
“This is all a dream isn’t it?” he said aloud, “If I go in there…”
 
“You have a choice young Bracken” the disembodied voice replied, “You can go home, be with your loved ones, or…”
 
“Or?”
 
“Or, you can stay here” a pair of dark forelegs appeared out of the air, draping themselves over his shoulders, the sultry voice speaking in a low tone into his ear, “…with me.”
 
“With you…” he replied calmly. He’d never been much of a wordsmith, preferring to create and craft materials like his father, but more ‘tailored’, and certainly not involving hooves. He glanced down at the elegant shapely legs, along to the finely engraved hoof covers,
 
“I know who you are” he said quietly.
 
There was a teasing gasp behind him, “You do?! My, my! Whatever shall I do now!” the voice laughed, the sound harsh, mocking, and yet oddly intimate,
 
“Since you already know my secret, Sir Bracken, then I shall give you a choice. A simple choice.” A dark coated shape slid alongside him and lifted his chin, bringing his face level with a pair of deep azure eyes,
 
“Your choice”, she said calmly, “is death” she lifted a hoof, indicating the open door of the cottage, “or…” she looked meaningfully up into the darkness. Bracken followed her gaze, taking in the large crescent moon hanging in the night sky, bathing the land with its wan light. The mare licked her lips and whispered into his ear. It was a promise of wonderment, promise, and oh, so deliciously enticing,
 
“…life”
 
With a yell, Bracken awoke. Despite the cold he was drenched in sweat and had thrown his blanket off where it was now unceremoniously piled up against the wall with his gear. Shaking, he sat down on his haunches. Hell fire, why was he remembering that now?! Of all the times, of all the places…He reached over to their supplies and took out his water flask, downing a large gulp. At least there was no shortage of water out here.
 
“Small comfort…” he muttered to himself bitterly.
 
Retrieving his blanket, he nearly tripped over a protruding white leg. Clucking his tongue, Bracken lifted Chalk’s blanket to tuck him back in,
 
“Come on you.” He murmured, “You’re always telling me to keep warm”.
 
The voice was only the barest of whispers,
 
“Help…me…”
 
“Chalky?” Bracken leaned down, “You okay buddy?”
 
The white unicorn’s face was contorted in fear, his lips moving slowly, his ears twitching,
 
“Please…no…don’t…leave me alone…LEAVE ME ALONE!”
 
Chalks horn suddenly glowed with magic, his eyelids flickering,
 
“I’ll…I’ll kill you…kill you all!”
 
The stallion’s eyes snapped open, glowing with a furious blue light that reflected off the piled snow and rock walls, filling Brackens vision completely. He leapt back in alarm,
 
“Chalky?”
 
The unicorn’s teeth were bared, tears pouring in a flood down his cheeks. He was muttering to himself, his chest heaving as he breathed,
 
“No…no…I’m not…no…”
 
Magic began to surge through the cave like a miniature whirlwind, tipping over the heater and spilling the precious fire crystals across the rocky floor. Various items of their gear clattered and banged as it was thrown around as though it weighed no more than a feather. Bracken backed away a step. He’d seen his friend like this once before, but why here? Why now? He did the only thing he could think of: he lunged forward and grabbed his friend by the shoulders and stared into those huge orbs,
 
“Chalky…Chalky it’s me, Bracken. You’re dreaming. Come on, wake up now.”
 
The white pony was trembling, whether with fear, anger, or just the fury of the magic roaring around him, Bracekn couldn’t tell. Chalk Dust’s eyes were completely unfocussed, staring off into some distant world only he could see. One thing that was clear though, was the sheer terror in his friends voice,
 
“So…cold, so alone…I’m frightened! I want to go home! Don’t…don’t leave me here! Help…somepony help me! Help me!”
 
Bracken pulled the unicorn to his chest, closing his eyes against the ethereal winds that caught at his mane and whipped around him,
 
“I’m here, Chalky!” he said comfortingly, “You’re not alone now, you’re not alone.” Bracken rubbed his friends neck and held him tightly, “Everything’s all right now, everything’s fine, you’re home…”
 
Suddenly, the wind began to die down, the magical tempest dropping like it had never existed, only the scattered equipment bearing silent witness to what had just happened. Bracken breathed a sigh of relief, letting his own heartbeat settle down once more.
 
“Brack? What…why are you…?” Chalk Dust’s green eyes stared into his in confusion before he pushed his friend away roughly, “Hey! What the hell!”
 
Bracken turned and picked up his blanket, sighing, “Don’t blame me, you were having one of ‘those’ dreams again.” He trotted over to pick up the scattered gear.
 
“One of…” Chalk scratched his mane and stared about him, “Oh, one of…those.”
 
The black coated stallion nodded, picking up the mess tins, “Aye, and you should be helping clean up the bloody mess you’ve made too.”
 
Chalk Dust sank to his haunches, “Oh goddesses. Brack, I don’t know what came over me…” He gave his mane a shake, rubbing his horn and staring out at the still blowing snow storm outside,
 
“You feel that?”
 
Bracken stopped his tidying and looked up at him, “Feel what? Other than cold that is.”
 
Chalk shook his head, “No! Listen, in the storm outside, in the wind.”
 
Clucking his tongue, Bracken sat next to his friend and concentrated, “I can’t…”
 
Chalk jabbed him in the head with his hoof, “Listen! Damn it, Brack, beyond the wind. Concentrate, open your mind and just listen.”
 
Bracken raised an eyebrow at his friend but relented with a sigh, “Fine…”
 
He closed his eyes and let his mind go free, taking in the sounds, the smells, the feel of the world around him. As an earth pony, he was used to being able to attune himself to the physical world: the soil, rock and bones of Equestria. That was how his family were able to find the ores they needed to smelt into the metals they used to make their wares. It was how they could sense, how they could feel the piece they were working on and mould it to their will. Being an earth pony was…
 
Yes! There was something there, just on the edge of hearing, but definitely there. Bracken cast his mind out, focussing, blanking out everything else as he homed in on the sound. It was like nothing he’d ever heard before in his life; a low howling, a long drawn out sound, and high, very high, above them. A sudden image of two burning blue-white eyes appeared in his mind, the cry of winter chilling his soul, sucking out everything that was good and right in his world. With a shout, Bracken opened his eyes. Chalk waited, staring at him intently,
 
“Well?”
 
“Dear goddesses” he whispered, “It’s…”
 
“-Yeah” Chalk interrupted, “I saw the bloody things at River Valley. I never thought we’d meet another out here, or, I should say, I hoped we wouldn’t.”
 
“Any ideas?” Bracken asked hopefully.
 
“Like what?”
 
“You’re the magic user, Chalky!” The black stallion said, holding his hooves up in exasperation, “What the bloody hell can I do against a wendigo!? Shout at it?”
 
Chalk shook his head, “Sorry Brack, I’m still a little…” he gave his mane a shake, gathering his thoughts, “Right, we get our gear on, and we get the hell out of here.”
 
Bracken began clipping on his armour, “Great plan, Chalky, but any idea how we’re actually going to get past it?”
 
“Sarcasm notwithstanding, we see where this tunnel leads” Chalk replied collecting his gear, “Unless you have any better ideas, smartarse?”
 
“No, but I want to get the buck away from this place and that ‘thing’ as soon as possible.” Bracken packed the last of his gear into his panniers, “You ready?”
 
Chalk Dust pulled his helmet on and checked his sword, “Ready as I’ll ever be. Come on, time to go exploring.”