CHAPTER SIX
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON
Colonel Fulminata, commander of the forces of Nightmare Moon, leader of the thestral Legion and veteran of countless battles, sat staring at his map with empty eyes. His plans, so meticulously laid, had begun to unravel like so much yarn. The messenger had brought him the worst possible news; the wendigo had gone. Not only that though, oh no! The dragons too were refusing to fight because their leader, Etrida the elder, had been wounded in her fight with Celestia and now the huge greedy lumps of lard were wolfing down the supplies at a phenomenal rate. Many of them had even flown off looking for prey, despite being offered the corpses of the executed Celestians. Angrily, he held out his hoof for the water flask and downed a mouthful before turning to his Captain, “We’ve no choice but to…”
“Sir, messenger coming in.”
A griffin landed beside them in a flurry of wings, clearly worn from her exertions. She bowed, gasping for air as the Colonel hoofed her a drink which she gratefully accepted,
“Sir, the Celestians have…” She let out a barking cough, collecting herself before continuing, “they’ve attacked our supply lines at Thrush Crossing, there have been massive casualties. Captain Ingress’s reinforcements have similarly been attacked. Initial estimates are around four hundred dead, over twice that figure injured.”
Closing his eyes, the Colonel felt his chest tightening. It was his worst fear realised; the impetus of their attack, their momentum, had been lost. He knew the answer to his next question before he’d even asked it, “Who has attacked them?”
The griffin ruffled her wings, “Dragons. Several dozen fire drakes by initial estimates, possibly more.”
Fulminata sighed, staring up at the sky. It would be dark soon, time enough to do what they had to do. The last thing he wanted was to hoof the initiative back to the enemy, to give them the chance to consolidate and recover. His plan had been to pin the Celestians down, to let them think they had the advantage of the high ground beyond the forest, and then we would unleash his trump card. But now, now the bloody things had deserted them just when they needed them most. To add insult to injury the Celestians had somehow managed to gain the support of dragons as well…dragons! Didn’t they eat the damned things? He growled low in his throat, smoke rising from his nostils. He hadn’t been this furious in a long time, but he couldn’t let it show; not to his warriors, not even his own officers. But by the gods, all that death, all that work, the planning, and now, now it had all been thrown away!
“Sir?”
The messenger’s voice was nothing but background noise, a buzzing fly in a whirlwind of thoughts, plans and strategies that he had to re-think and re-plan. The griffin looked worriedly from the Colonel to the Captain, waiting for some response. Snarling, the Colonels eyes flared brightly, “You are to tell Captain Ingress to protect the supplies and move them up to our position as soon as possible. I will be sending air cover to him shortly.”
The griffin saluted, “Yes, Sir.” In a blast of air and feathers, the hybrid creature was up and flying away back to deliver her message.
Fulminata turned to his Captain, “Pull the troops in and set defences for the night.” He looked up at the sky, “Hopefully tomorrow, our ‘allies’ will have decided to rejoin us.”
The thestral officer nodded, snapped off a salute, and quickly took wing down the slope to the infantry that were waiting for their orders to advance. The Colonel watched him go, the light glinting off his armour, armour just like his own. There were few enough of them to begin with and now…even fewer. If this kept up, if they couldn’t bring a swift end to this war, then one day there would be too few of them to recover their population and their race, his people, would simply cease to be. Turning to head back up the hill, Fulminata’s thoughts wandered back to some of his earliest battles in the Beyond. Most had been small skirmishes: raids for food, resources and females usually, but on occasion there had battles on a scale that made this one look like a foal’s playset. Though that had been the problem hadn’t it? It was their nature, it was who they were. War was the nature of the thestral; they were born as warriors, to die as warriors. And now, after countless centuries of endless bloodshed, they had reached the tipping point. Their people had resorted to kidnapping females from other tribes just to try and keep their own tribe alive. It was so common now that it had become accepted as an inevitability, if not necessarily condoned. The irony of the situation was that when the raids occurred, even more of them were killed trying to stop the attackers. Colonel Fulminata muttered under his breath,
“Madness”
The cold air tingled his nose, the smell of woodsmoke still heavy in the valley. The fires had died down quickly, the heat dissipating to the point where he could have sent his warriors in, but without the support of the dragons and wendigo, with the enemy dug in and waiting, casualties would be heavy. Bitterly, he reached the tent and waited for the guards to inform the goddess of his arrival. He took a deep breath; in all likelihood, this wasn’t going to end well.
The tent flap moved aside.
The Colonel’s eyes widened in surprise as a black earth pony with a deep blue mane appeared in the entrance to the tent. This was new! Where were the usual servants?
The pony nodded his head respectfully, “Her divine majesty will see you now, Colonel.”
There was something in the pony’s manner, in his way of speaking, that Fulminata didn’t like. This one didn’t have the look of one of the northerners, nor did he appear to be a simple farm hoof that had answered the call of the goddess. No, this one had the look of a soldier, and by the clean patch of skin on his head that the fur was clearly absent from, he’d received considerable injury, and recently too. Following him in, Fulminata sighed; he was probably just another ‘pet’ for the goddess, a toy that she’d quickly tire of before casting it aside in search of a new one. Still, if it kept her amused, then a happy deity was well worth the price of a few of these Celestians. Truthfully, he couldn’t see what she saw in the useless creatures. They were hopeless, every single one of them, especially that incompetent ‘wizard’ or whatever he called himself; pointless creature.
“Your divine majesty”
Nightmare Moon lay on her chaise longue, her mane flowing our along her side like smoke from a camp fire. The Colonel’s eyes were drawn to the crescent moon on her flank. The virtually fluorescent image emblazoned upon a field of clouds was such a distinctive feature that it was duplicated upon the army’s banners. She truly was a magnificent creature; tall, elegant and terrible to behold, her gaze alone could freeze a warrior’s heart to ice, or so the stories went. There even was tell of how she could enter your dreams to speak to you of your bravery and deeds in past battles and the glory to come. Nightmare Moon was a warrior’s goddess, and one whom many would gladly lay down their lives for, and indeed, many had.
“Colonel Fulminata” She gave him a sidelong glance, motioning to the black coated pony to bring over a tray of drinks for them both, “I trust you have brought me good news?”
The Colonel bowed, “Your divinity, we have driven the Celestian army from the field, however they are entrenched in a strong defensible position on the southern side of the forest.”
Nightmare Moon yawned, “And?”
Fulminata looked up, “Your divinity?”
“Why are you still here?” the goddess’s voice started to increase in volume, her eyes narrowing menacingly, “Why aren’t you rolling over Celestia’s forces and bucking in the front door of her castle?” She lifted the goblet in her magic, and held it in front of the Colonels face, “Well?”
“Your divinity, I had planned the attack to include our allies, the lady Etrida and her dragons, as well as Lord Maroc’s wendigo.” Fulminata kept his voice steady, “I understand that neither of these elements are ‘available’ to us.”
“Do you need them to win, Colonel?” she asked in a curiously pleasant voice.
“Your divinity, the enemy commander has shown himself to be quite capable and I expect that a direct assault would end in massive loss of life. We may well win, but we would be so depleted as to be unable to defend ourselves should the enemy counterattack.”
The princess took a mouthful of wine, rising to her hooves, “Lady Etrida is wounded, Colonel, and there is only so much magic can do to heal her. Time will help, but that is something we do not have the luxury of.” She trotted over to the map table, “Celestia is gone. Where to, or even if she still lives, even I cannot say, however it is imperative we take the castle and end this war quickly and decisively.” She tapped her hoof next to a scale model of the impressive construction, “It was my home once as well as hers and its secret will serve us a lot better in my hooves than hers, wouldn’t you agree?”
Fulminata nodded, “Yes, divinity”
“Good” Nightmare Moon looked up at him from the map, “Then you understand how important it is that we keep up the momentum of our attack.”
This was the part that he’d been dreading. The Colonel took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice neutral, “Divinity, the Celestians have enlisted the aid of…”
“-I know, Colonel.” She interrupted, her azure eyes flashing dangerously, “The Celestians have new friends to help them.”
The Colonel lowered his eyes as she approached him, the goddess stopping mere inches from his muzzle,
“Colonel. Fulmin. Look at me”
Obediently, the veteran warrior lifted his head and looked eye to eye into the face of his goddess.
She smiled seductively, “I believe in you, do you believe in me?”
Fulminata’s heart surged, heat beginning to flush through him, building up into a raging torrent, “Yes, divine majesty, I do.”
Nightmare Moon smiled; a soft, gentle smile that promised retribution if denied, passion if obeyed. Willingly or not, Fulminata’s heart became a blazing inferno of motivation and drive to achieve. For her, for his goddess, he would march through hell and back just to see her smile.
The goddess leaned down, ruffling her wings and whispered into his ear, “You are my sword, Colonel, your warriors my shield. Carry my banner into the heart of Equestria. Plant it on the battlements of the castle.” She lifted his chin with her hoof, “For those who please me, there are…” the smile widened, “rewards.”
The Colonel’s eyes went wide in shock as the midnight coated mare planted a kiss on his muzzle, the thrill of it racing through him like cold lightning. He felt like he had twenty years, no, thirty years earlier; young, fit, full of fire and energy, a warrior of the Beyond. He could have been Duke! He should have been, they would have supported him, all of them. Maybe he still could? With the princess’s support, he could be the one to finally unite the tribes into one. He could save them, save them all!
He snapped to attention, “Divine Majesty”. Fulminata’s heart soared, the weight of his years vanishing from him as if though they had never been more than a dream, “I will drive the point of my sword deep into the heart of our enemy!”
The goddess smiled. Her eyes were so beautiful, so pure, and as deep as the ocean…
“Go now, Fulmin” the princess whispered lovingly, slowly running her hoof down his neck, “I believe in you.”
His fur tingled, his skin itched. It was time, time to do what he did best. The Colonel bowed, his voice all but cracking with the surges of emotion that ran through him, “By your divine guidance!”
With a final bob of her head, the princess, their dread goddess, dismissed him.
Trotting down the slope, Fulminata called for his messenger. Spotting him, several officers hastened over to join him on his way back to where their warriors were already beginning to set up a defensive line for the night. The Colonel’s heart soared, virtually singing through him with a renewed strength of purpose. The goddess was with them, truly with them, and this time…this time they would annihilate those damned things from the face of Equestria. A new dawn was coming, and he would be its herald.
“Wing Leader Bale!”
The young officer quickly trotted up, smoke snorting from his nostrils. He’d sensed the Colonels mood had he? Good. It was as it should be, as it always should have been.
“Colonel?” The younger stallion saluted, a wry grin on his face. He knew. Bale glanced at the older warrior’s tail, the way it swished furiously. They all knew now.
Fulminata shook his mane and let out a blast of smoke, “Tell the troops to stop what they’re doing and re-form the lines for battle.”
Bale’s smile nearly cracked his face in two, “Yes, Sir!”
In the gathering dusk, the yellow fires of the veteran warrior’s eyes glowed, thin wisps of smoke trickling out from between his bared teeth. For the first time in as long as he could remember, the Colonel smiled with the excitement of battle,
“Let’s show them how thestrals make war.”
********************************
Bracken sat quietly and watched, taking everything in. The thestral warrior was all but glowing with energy, his eyes two flickering yellow fires renewed by the princess’s words. The creature had appeared almost rejuvenated: fresh, alert, and nothing at all like the tired, sullen looking officer that had first entered through the tent only a few minutes earlier. Nightmare Moon was a truly amazing being. Perhaps she really was a goddess after all. After the Colonel left, she remained standing, the tent flaps dropping back down until, with a grunt, she collapsed onto her haunches. Bracken jumped up and hurried to her side,
“Divine Majesty, are you alright?” He reached out a hoof only to have it knocked roughly away. Nightmare Moon’s head hung tiredly, her wings sagging by her sides as her rolling smoke like mane became limp and more ‘normal’. Before his very eyes, the goddess, Nightmare Moon, transformed into…
“Princess Luna?” Brackens words were out before he could stop himself. With a squeak he covered his mouth, but it was too late, the princess had heard him. Her head snapped up and fixed him with a glare,
“Don’t you ever…EVER…call me…” She faltered, shaking her head as she toppled into Bracken’s outstretched hooves. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her eyes unfocussed. As carefully as he could, the black stallion guided and half carried the princess to her chaise longue and gently lay her on the cushions, adjusting them to make her as comfortable as possible. Her mane was now completely different, the ethereal smoke transitioning to a magnificent field of stars and moons, more typical of the images he’d seen of her before her transformation into the dark goddess, Nightmare Moon. She seemed…kinder, somehow, maybe even vulnerable. Bracken’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest he was certain she’d hear it. Being this close to her, the exotic smell of her fur, the way her wings accidentally brushed his leg…it was all he could do to keep focussed on the task at hoof.
He swallowed. What should he do now? He couldn’t leave her like this. Maybe he should call somepony? Pausing, he looked around the room, finding the water container, goblets, pitcher and some cloths. Gathering as much as he could, he set to work. Nightmare Moon, or rather, ‘Luna’s’, hoof covers looked heavy and certainly couldn’t have been comfortable for her. If she punished him for this later, he would have to take the risk. He took a deep breath and sat on his haunches, lifting her hoof in his and sliding the silvery metal cover off, placing it neatly beside the wash stand. Next, he removed another, and another, until all four were neatly placed together.
Throughout, she never stirred, never uttering even a single word. Bracken reached out and felt her forehead…she was burning up! Hurriedly, he filled the bowl with water and immersed the cloths, wringing them out as much as he could before moving round to the princess’s head.
“Forgive me.” He whispered, as he carefully began wiping the sweat from her brow, slowly running it down her muzzle and neck. Bracken rinsed out the cloth as best he could as he examined her. It would be hard to do much on the side of her that was leaning against the cushions, but he’d do what he could regardless. The fact that this was the enemy of his princess, the leader of the forces that threatened to take over his homeland, niggled at the back of his mind and yet here she was, Luna, the one his family had worshipped all those years ago. She was the dark to her sister light, the moon to her sun, the balance that the world needed. As he washed her, Bracken’s thoughts wandered. How had it all come to this; the death, the destruction, the horror of war? He shook his head, realising that in truth, he knew next to nothing. As a soldier, he followed orders. Doing as you were told had been a painful lesson at first, the first flush of excitement and thrill of potential adventure driven out of him by endless months of incessant drills and cleaning the latrines. At least Chalky had been there with him though, that troublesome stallion getting them both into hot water on more than one occasion for his hijinks. The white pony had changed considerably since he’d first met him too, the timid and nervous creature striving to become the centre of attention and mischief at every opportunity. Bracken smiled, rinsing out the cloth; he missed his friend. Goddesses, he hoped he was alright.
Arranging the equipment, he began brushing out the princess’s mane. The stars and moons shimmered at his touch, sending what looked like shooting stars hurtling through the eternal depths of space. It was…electrifying. Embarrassingly, Bracken felt his body beginning to feel hot and his ears were near burning as he worked. He passed it off as nothing more than a side effect of being so close to such a magical creature, and certainly not anything…else. He concentrated on his work. With each stroke, the brush flowed effortlessly through the ethereal waves of hair. Some of it brushed against him and made him jump in surprise; it was like running his hoof through ice water. Despite the strangeness it fascinated him, and he found himself smiling like a foal on his first birthday. Giving himself a shake, Bracken quickly looked back at the princess, expecting her to be glowering at him; she wasn’t. Her eyes were closed, her chest slowly rising and falling at a more normal pace than it had been earlier. For a moment, Bracken looked down at her tail and paused. It may need brushing out too, although of course he had only recently done it, and to do it anyway would mean being close to her haunches, her…rump. He swallowed. No…no he’d leave that. Familiarity with her was a step too far, way too far.
Luna suddenly coughed. It was a dry sound that reminded Bracken of the dryness of the tents interior. Quickly, he filled a goblet with water, but there was no way he would be able to hold that up to her without spilling it. There had to be…there! A small bowl sat nearby; a plain, simple thing, but it would serve well enough for this task. Delicately, he slipped his hoof under Luna’s neck and lifted her head,
“Divine majesty…” he whispered, “Please…drink.” She didn’t respond. Bracken took a breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before trying again, “Luna…my princess, please. You must drink, here…”
He lifted the bowl to her lips, trickling a little across them until he saw her mouth twitch, her tongue lapping at the small glinting drops.
“That’s right” he murmured, “Just a little more”
Gradually, the princess began to drink, moving her muzzle into the bowl. Bracken watched in fascination as she drank. Regardless of who she was, to see such a beautiful creature so weak was heartbreaking and it called out to him. She was an alicorn, true, but she was still a pony…of sorts. Eventually, she took all the water she would take and let out a soft sound as Bracken carefully laid her head back on the cushions making her as comfortable as he could. Instinctively, he reached out to stroke her neck and stopped himself. He shouldn’t be doing this, he…he couldn’t. This was…
He shook himself vigorously. He couldn’t think like that! No matter what, she was still a princess of Equestria and the sister of his own princess. As an Equestrian himself, that meant that Luna was his princess every bit as much as Celestia was. Holding his head in his hooves, Bracken’s mind warred with his heart. The conflict inside him was one of confusion, heartache and…heartache? No…he had to do something. Being so close to the princess, to Nightmare Moon, was affecting him the same way it had affected that thestral officer. He nodded to himself; he would have to get some proper help for her. That white robed maid, or whatever she was, the one that he’d first met when he came to in the tent, should still be about. Bracken’s mind made up, he rose to his hooves and went to move to the doorway.
“No”
The princess’s voice was dry, distant. One of her slender legs reached out to him, almost imploringly, “No…stay…”
Bracken halted, turning back to her, “Your divinity, I’m only a soldier. I don’t know how to…”
“-No.” The princess interrupted, “Bracken, stay with me. Nopony else can see me” she sighed, “…like this.”
The black stallion bowed, “By your divine guidance my princess.”
One of her eyes opened slowly, the deep azure orb slowly focussing on him as she smiled softly, her voice calm and soothing, “Princess…” Moments later, she was asleep once more.
Quietly, Bracken began to tidy the tent, placing everything away except what he thought he may need when the princess awoke. She wasn’t the only one who was tired either. He was worn out himself, both mentally and physically. With a groan, he sank to the floor of the tent beside the midnight coated mare. She may need him when she awoke, and he would be there for her when she did. Surely a short nap wouldn’t hurt? It would only be a few minutes…