//------------------------------// // Act III: Chapter Twenty: In This For The Long Haul // Story: Innocent // by Puzzle Piece //------------------------------// Two days after the battle of Canterlot, the bodies had been cleared from the streets. Casualties were still being tallied and many ponies, soldiers and civilians alike, were unaccounted for. The walls lay in ruins after the beating they’d endured from the Troll catapults and whole blocks within the city had been lost to the fires. Smoke still rose from isolated pockets of rubble. The first day had passed with every remaining soldier on alert for another attack. Scouts were constantly winging in and out of the city, carrying reports and delivering messages. As evening crept closer, it became clear that the Trolls did not intend to launch another attack right away. What was left of their forces had pulled back to the river and numbered less than a thousand. The city relaxed marginally, turning to the task of clearing away the debris of the battle and returning the Army to a fighting state. Captain Gallant Lance oversaw the gathering of weapons and equipment from the field to be used again or scraped for materials. It was a somber assignment and nopony was keen on the prospect of picking through the dead. The citizens stepped up to handle the wreckage inside the walls and began the process of rebuilding. Hundreds had been left homeless by the fires and catapults. They busied themselves with a single-minded fervor to keep themselves from dwelling on what had been lost. The bodies of the Trolls were being buried outside the city in mass graves. The bodies of fallen ponies were being laid out in long lines near the Army camp, protected by a preservation spell cast by the Princesses so that families could find and identify loved ones. The Army, Air Corps and Royal Guard also picked through them, solemnly updating troop rosters and squadron lists. Cor sat near the Army camp at noon of the second day, looking out at the ponies sifting through rubble and hauling carts of supplies and debris from place to place. He busied himself fletching new arrows from a dwindling pile of materials. Two full quivers sat beside him, the last of his ammunition. He desperately needed more before the next battle. Jason rested in the tent behind him. His injuries had been bound and treated and Cor had insisted he take it easy for the next few days. Although he hadn’t been thrilled at being confined to his bed, Jason had reluctantly complied. Zacon was in a similar state. With broken ribs from the catapult round he’d taken, he was unable to walk without disabling amounts of pain. He was in one of the medical tents farther inside the camp. Those tents buzzed with activity since most of the defenders had been injured in the fighting. The hospitals in the city had taken in as many as they could, but were being inundated by civilians also seeking medical attention. Cor shook his head. They were in bad shape. He shrugged his shoulder where a tight bandage covered a wound from a thrown Troll spear. This horde was down but by no means out. Those thousand or so troops would still need to be dealt with before this was over. And at least two more hordes, likely still at full strength, were out there running rampant across the country. Cor looked around and could hardly imagine these ponies fighting off such odds. He placed a finished arrow in his third quiver and reached for another set of components. He found nothing. The pile was empty. He frowned at his fifty arrows. He took a deep breath and got up, making his way toward the blacksmith at the far end of camp. He became aware of somepony following him almost immediately. He chose to ignore them. He wasn’t in the mood for intrigue. If they wanted to stalk him, he couldn’t care less. Only halfway to the blacksmith, he found something that did grab his attention. A long line of ponies were standing before an Army Lieutenant. He had a list with him and he was muttering to himself as he scribbled something down. As Cor watched, each pony approached the Lieutenant, spoke to him and waited until he’d directed them away. Most of the ponies were Unicorns and some wore fine clothes, now soiled and torn from the previous days. Cor realized they were new volunteers for the Army. His follower slid up beside him silently, also watching the line of recruits. “It seems the battle’s driven them out of their comfortable lives of luxury,” the pony said, her tone dull. “Having the war look you dead in the eye can be a powerful motivator.” Cor glanced at the pale green Unicorn. She had a long bandage running up her side and an older one on her foreleg. He thought he recognized her from the Ponyville platoon but couldn’t place the name. “Too bad it took burning half of Canterlot to the ground to show them we need all the help we can get,” she continued bitterly. “Maybe if they’d stepped up and defended themselves from the beginning, we wouldn’t even be cleaning up this rubble.” “There’s no need to be so harsh about it,” Cor replied. “None of you were prepared for any of this.” “None of us?” she said reproachfully. “Why aren’t you including yourself in that?” “Well, actually…,” he began. Cor glanced back the way he’d come, almost hoping Jason would come strolling up to save him the trouble of explaining it. No such luck was with him. “Oh, screw it,” he said, shaking his head in resignation. “We aren’t Equestrian. Zacon, Jason and I; we aren’t from your country at all. But still, we’ve decided to help you fight this war.” “Are you even ponies?” she asked suddenly. Cor was taken aback by being asked so bluntly. “Um, well, no. No we aren’t,” he managed. “I knew it!” she said, pumping a hoof in victory. “How could you have known?” Cor asked, genuinely curious. “Because I listen. You three have made some pretty suspicious statements over the past week or so and I wasn’t going to put my blinders up for them. Do the Princesses know?” She got up close to him, her eyes boring into his. “They’d better or I’ll go straight up to the palace and tell them that we’ve got a trio of spies in our midst!” She poked her hoof into his chest to emphasize her words. “Easy, easy!” Cor said, holding up a hoof to wave down her vigorous outburst. “They know already. Do you think we’d have been able to get positions like these without proving we’re more than ordinary ponies?” Cor paused for a moment and then smiled at her. “Would you really have gone and told the Princesses?” “Yes,” she replied at once. Cor’s smile widened. “You, an Army recruit, would have marched into the palace without invitation or appointment, bypassed the guards, barged in on and interrupted whatever war meetings are in progress and not only demand they listen to you, but also inform them that three of their officers, whom they had just given commissions to personally, were actually spies? And what evidence would you have given them?” The mare opened her mouth to object but realized how foolish it sounded now. “Huh,” she grunted, chewing that thought over before making her defiant reply. “But I’d have done something, you’d better believe it!” “I’m not criticizing the initiative. Quite the contrary. We need that kind of willingness to act if we’re going to turn this war around.” He turned to look out at the city, his expression distant. “But it’s going to take more than initiative to end this. That’s why we’re here.” “And you’re going to make that much of a difference just the three of you, I take it?” She regarded him curiously. “No, not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re just three soldiers after all. But we’ve made plans to form a team that we will lead in a counter-offensive that will be able to strike where we’re needed most. In fact, we were on our way to begin recruiting for that group when this battle broke out.” “So you’ll be out on the front lines, making the big plays, huh?” she asked. “A little ahead of the front lines, more often than not,” he said. “But making the big plays? Not quite. We intend to make the important plays, and those aren’t always the big ones.” The mare thought it over as they stood side by side. Ponies bustled past them and the line of recruits thinned out. “Hmm,” she said at last. “Sounds like the place I want to be.” “Excuse me?” Cor asked, his thoughts obviously having wandered elsewhere. “I’d like to join this team. I was never one to march around rank-and-file anyway.” Cor looked her over critically before nodding. “If you’re sure about it, I think I can make that happen. What’s your name?” “Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings.” “Well, Lyra, we’ll see about signing you on officially and getting you properly outfitted as soon as we can. I noticed that I don’t need to tell you how to find me,” he said with a smirk. “So drop by a little later and we’ll get everything settled.” She nodded, looking back into the camp. On a sudden thought, she bounded off, weaving through the tents in pursuit of whatever goal she had in mind. Cor watched her go before continuing his journey to the blacksmith to see if there were any more supplies to make his arrows with. ~*~*~ The tent flap opened and a pony walked in. Jason remained still, pretending to be asleep. He was lying on his side, facing away from the entrance. His visitor sat down on a stool next to the simple bed without a word. Jason extended his mana to probe lightly and felt a different field of mana react to its touch. The slight, surprised intake of breath that accompanied it confirmed his suspicions. “Twilight?” he asked softly without moving. “Was there something you needed?” “There was,” she said after a few seconds. “I…I’ve been thinking about your plan. To make a group separate from the Army? I’ve been thinking about joining you.” Jason sat up and looked at her then. She wasn’t meeting his eyes. Instead, she was twisting the hem of her mage’s uniform with her hooves. “Why is that?” he asked. “So you can continue training me. I’ve finally gotten a hang of frost magic. Watch.” She turned and pointed her hoof to one side of the tent and the air in front of her rippled. In seconds, small grains of ice were forming and falling to the ground. A pair of tiny, delicate snowflakes materialized in the frozen water droplets. Twilight made a sweeping, gathering gesture with her hoof and the chilled air swirled around into a tight, blurry ball that floated before her. She gestured at the nearby table and the ball of frigid air rocketed forward, casting a thick layer of frost over the table and forming small icicles in the spell’s wake. She turned back to Jason, beaming. “Very nice,” he said, nodding. “Did you use any of this in the battle?” “No,” she said, her ears drooping. “I was up in the towers most of the time. This seems to be a fairly short range spell. That’s part of why I want to join you. I’ll be able to learn new spells and then put them to use in the field.” “And the other part?” he pressed, sensing some evasiveness in her words. “And…” She fretted with her sleeve, buying time before she would be forced to answer. At last, she gave in and the words tumbled forth. “And I know that it will mean getting closer to danger, but I can’t sit out these battles like this any longer! Standing up in that tower over the walls, and also while we fought at the river and I was looking down from that hill; I felt so helpless. It was as if nothing I did was changing the outcome. All I could see was Trolls overwhelming ponies and my spells disappearing into their masses. I don’t care how close I have to get to danger. I need to see the difference I’m making!” Jason nodded slowly. “I’m not going to pretend I want any of this. But if it has to be, I’ll be glad to have you with us.” She smiled her appreciation for his understanding. “We have some time before any of us are ready to make a move outside the city,” Jason observed. “Why don’t we get into our next set of lessons?” “I wouldn’t want to put that kind of stress on you while you’re recovering,” Twilight said quickly. “I don’t intend to lie around like a slug,” Jason said, starting to ease himself out of the bed. Twilight stopped him. “You need rest. We’ll continue our sessions later. You’re not the only one who’s still recovering,” she said sadly. He nodded and lay back down. His horn lit up and a set of papers on the nearby table floated over to him. He shuffled through the papers critically until he found what he was looking for. “You’ll need to take this form to Princess Celestia for her approval,” he said, passing one of the pages to her. “I’d be moving you from the mages’ division of her Guard, so I’ll need her express permission to do so. Get her signature and I’ll write you in on our roster.” Twilight nodded but didn’t move to leave. “You wanted something else?” Jason asked. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “We can wait to do any practical lessons until we both feel up to it. But I was wondering if I could ask a few questions in the meantime.” “Go ahead,” Jason said. “You were weakened by what you did with your mana during the battle. And back when you raced Rainbow…” she trailed off as tears crept into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just realized how short a time ago it was when everything seemed normal.” “It’s completely understandable,” Jason said softly. “When you raced Rainbow,” she said once she had herself under control again. “You knocked yourself out using your magic to win. But it seemed like it was more than just exhaustion. Is there some other side effect of using mana, especially using a lot of it?” “There are some,” he admitted, settling back and thinking through how he would phrase his explanation. “First off, physical exhaustion is separate from magical exhaustion. The magic you Equestrians use seems to induce physical exhaustion, but using mana can sap your stamina in a more profound way. It is the spirit that becomes fatigued. No amount of physical conditioning can prepare a mage for that. Only repeated use and strain of your magical limits can increase those limits.” “So even though physical conditioning is irrelevant, the principle of conditioning works the same way for mana,” Twilight observed. “It would be like training to build an entirely different muscle group than any other part of the physical body.” “Exactly,” Jason nodded. “There are some very important differences though, namely that your mana is a vital living energy. Using too much of it can be harmful, even fatal. Few mages can exercise enough control to push past incapacitation and reach such a dangerous point, but for those like me who can, we must be mindful of that inviolable limit.” “You mean it’s possible to kill yourself by using too much mana?” she asked in alarm. “Why would anyone do something like that? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’ve rested again instead of trying something so risky?” “I won’t go into the precise mechanics of pushing that limit now,” he said, nodding to acknowledge her concern. “But suffice it to say that there are times when a little extra power at just the right time can be worth that risk. I know my limits intimately, having come close to the edge on many occasions. Much to the agitation of my companions,” he added, trailing off. “It’s not wrong for them to worry that you’re putting yourself in that kind of danger,” she said softly. “No, it isn’t,” Jason admitted with an edge of irritation. “But I do know my limits. And I’m not going to let that potential energy sit idle if it is within my power to put it to use. I can’t pretend it isn’t hurting those close to me to make them worry, but I believe I can make a difference by doing so.” Twilight was silent, unwilling to argue the point any longer. Jason also set the matter aside with a long, deep breath. “As for waiting long enough to recover,” he said, bringing the topic back around to a previous point. “It isn’t as simple as taking a day to sleep it off. Mana regenerates, but it does so very slowly. Most times, light use isn’t felt. Even casting many spells can leave a mage weak but manageably so. But battle mages in heavy fighting can require days of recovery before they can begin casting spells again. In fact, most do not make it through one entire battle without becoming exhausted.” “I’ve noticed that I feel tired after practicing for an hour or so,” Twilight mused. “I suppose it is a different kind of exhaustion.” “An hour or so?” Jason asked. “That’s how long you practice or that’s how long it takes for you to get tired?” “That’s when I start to get tired,” she explained. “I’ve been practicing any time I have a free moment and I spent most of the day after our first lesson just getting a feel for using mana instead of my Unicorn magic.” “How long would you say you can cast spells without resting?” Jason asked, leaning closer intently. “Like I said, I spent most of that day practicing various techniques based on what you’d shown me. I tested the limits of heat drain and found that it became harder to draw heat as less of it remained. But drawing heat out of different types of objects also seemed to vary in difficulty…” “Yes, yes, yes,” Jason said, waving his hoof impatiently until he had her attention again. “I’m very glad to see that you’ve been able to learn so much, especially all on your own. But do you mean to say that you were casting spells and pushing their potential to the point that they became difficult to complete for a whole day?” Twilight put a hoof to her chin and thought for a moment. “I started as soon as I finished breakfast,” she said, bobbing her hoof as she went through time increments in her mind. “So it would have been somewhere around eight o’clock. I took a break at eleven to check a few physical and chemical properties before experimenting with some magic concerning them, and then accidentally worked through lunch until about four in the evening. I spoke with the Captain to see if there was any word about the Trolls and then ate a large, early dinner. After that, I practiced into the night. I’d say that, with going to bed at nine or so, I spent eleven hours that day casting spells with mana alone.” She paused in her animated listing of her schedule when she noticed Jason’s amazed expression. “I was beat by that time, mind you. And I’ll admit that I didn’t quite feel like I was in top form again until yesterday.” “Still,” Jason said, regaining some composure. “To maintain that level of activity, your mana must be more concentrated than I thought.” He considered her carefully. “I’ve heard of mages who have been able to gain such vast reserves of mana that it becomes thicker. Each unit of their mana gains potency over that of a lesser mage, to the point where just a small portion of their mana can perform feats that would require another mage’s entire reserve. Only a select few Archmages among my people have ever been confirmed to have reached that point.” He paused again, thinking hard. Twilight waited for him to continue, wondering at his sudden concern, and becoming concerned herself as to what the implications of his words might be. “When we first began our lessons,” he said at last. “I recall commenting that your mana seemed to emanate off of you. ‘As if you cannot contain it all within you’ were my exact words, if I remember correctly. I may have failed to realize it then, but that aura of mana that I detected might have indicated such potency within your mana pool.” “What does that mean for me?” Twilight asked with a hint of uncertainty. Jason waved a hoof in reassurance. “It’s not something to be worried about. In fact, it’s a great gift to possess. I’m only uncertain of how it came about. You’ve only had knowledge of this power within you for a short time, and comparable mages spend centuries of their lives striving for that goal.” Twilight shifted the hem of her uniform to expose her Cutie Mark. “My Cutie Mark signifies a specialty in magic. I’ve never seen anything to indicate that it’s limited to any one school of magic. Perhaps since my mana has always been there, I’ve always been skilled with it but only recently made use of it.” “What other forms of magic have you used?” Jason asked. “Well, there have been times when I’ve seen a type of magic used by another pony, spells that they alone had been able to master, and I’ve been able to learn them. Rarity showed me a technique that she knew innately to reveal gemstones hidden in the ground. I picked it up quickly enough, even though she didn’t know any other pony who had been able to learn it.” Twilight worried the hem of her uniform again. “I even saw Princess Celestia use a type of dark magic once, magic that belonged to the evil King Sombra of the Crystal Empire. I used it later when breaking through the King’s traps, even though Celestia never really told me how it worked.” She paused reflectively. “I’ve just always had a knack for picking up on new magic and spells. I hadn’t thought too much about it until now.” Jason was lost in thought for long moments. Twilight shifted in her seat, looking over her transfer papers idly and trying not to disturb whatever deep contemplations Jason was going through. As the minutes ticked by, her patience wore thin. She cleared her throat pointedly and Jason slowly came back to reality. “Sorry. But a possibility had occurred to me. If you can learn any technique that you see demonstrated, it means there is a chance that I could teach you my Time Warping technique.” His eyes glittered eagerly. “I didn’t learn it. For the longest time, I thought I was simply faster than everyone else. But as I learned more about the workings of magic, I realized that I was innately channeling my mana to accelerate myself. No one has ever been able to replicate that technique without extreme expenditures of mana, and yet I am able to maintain it with relative ease.” “I could learn to move like that? Like you did in that race?” Twilight’s eyes widened at the prospect. “Theoretically, yes. But more practically, you’d be able to slow down an enemy’s swing for a brief moment, allowing you to dodge, or accelerate yourself to perform several quick attacks before your opponent can react.” He shifted in the bed to get more comfortable. “You see, during that race, I put everything I had into winning. I knew that I wouldn’t need to conserve mana for anything afterwards, so I didn’t hold any back. In a battle, you can’t put that much effort into any one action unless it is the last move. I warped time as much as I could, accelerated myself as fast as I could and had nothing left at the end. When I fought two days ago, I only used enough to gain an advantage when I felt I needed that extra boost. And still, I was badly drained in the end.” “Oh,” Twilight said, somewhat disappointed. “But as I practice, I’ll be able to maintain it for longer and longer times, with greater intensity, right?” “I suspect so, if you are able to learn it at all. But that will be a lesson for much later.” “What? Why would we wait until later?” Twilight asked. “That seems to be the most powerful technique you know. It’s the most powerful one you’ve used while you’ve been here, isn’t it?” Jason nodded in concession. “Then I should learn it now so that I can master it sooner,” she declared. “All of the other elements can wait until I’ve learned this one!” “Even if you could learn this technique without mastering the other elements, I wouldn’t know where to start trying to teach you!” Twilight opened her mouth to retort but Jason shook his head firmly. “If you insist on developing that technique now, you will have to do it without my guidance. You’ve seen me use it once. If that is enough, fine. If not, you will have to wait until I’m ready to offer advice. But don’t spend all of your time trying to force success in one area when you can be making progress elsewhere.” Twilight’s ears fell in defeat. “No, you’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself. If I’m going to learn something as potent as that, I’ll need as much experience in the other disciplines as I can manage first.” She sighed and gathered up the transfer papers. “I’ll get these signed and back to you as soon as possible.” As she was pulling the tent flap back to leave, Jason spoke. “You have a great gift for magic, Twilight. I am eager to see you advance your skills. But we all have to have patience.” Twilight looked out at the ruined city beyond the tent and then back at Jason. “It’s hard to be patient when lives are being lost with every passing day.” With that, she left and Jason found only silence as his companion once more. ~*~*~ When Spitfire finally tracked down Rainbow Dash, she’d covered nearly every inch of Canterlot in her search. It baffled her as to why the Sergeant had secluded herself after the battle. But she caught a glimpse of that reason when Rainbow spotted her approaching. The flinch, as if preparing to flee, the sudden intake of breath, and the final deflating of her whole body as she resigned herself to being approached; it told Spitfire volumes of Rainbow’s mood. Rainbow had been perched on the cliffs overlooking the city. The view was magnificent, stretching out until it seemed the edge of the world must be just over the last hill. The tips of the northern mountain peaks glistened dully as the sun reflected off their icecaps from amongst the dark stone faces. The forests to the south and southeast seemed to breathe with life as the wind moved the branches and caused the thick green canopies to ripple. To the west, the skies told a different story. The chalky clouds hung stagnant and lifeless over a land that seemed to have been robbed of light. The smoke from the city seemed to predict the spread of the bleakness into what was left of their bright world. The battlefield of the river, barely distinguishable from the surrounding lands from this distance, was a stepping stone for the darkness’ path to them. The freshly turned earth of the mass graves was a doormat that welcomed it inside. Rainbow Dash felt the emptiness inside her already. She almost dove off the cliff to avoid Spitfire’s company when she saw the Wonderbolt drawing near, but decided it would be pointless. “Captain,” she greeted neutrally. “Sergeant,” Spitfire returned. “What brings you up here?” “I found the Trolls’ attack route,” Rainbow reported emotionlessly. “There are signs of their passing all over these crags. They seem to have scaled the mountain this way to get around the walls and into the city.” “I see,” Spitfire replied, eyeing the treacherous path warily. “And that’s the only reason you’re up here?” “Do I need another one?” Rainbow asked. “No, but you have another one,” Spitfire said, sitting down beside the other. Rainbow grunted. “Come on. What’s bothering you, Rainbow?” Spitfire picked at her uniform briefly. When Rainbow glanced over, she noticed that the Captain’s badge had vanished. When she looked at the Captain, the question forming on her lips, Spitfire nodded. “We’re dropping rank here,” she said sincerely. “I want to talk to you, Pegasus to Pegasus. So tell me, what’s been bothering you?” Rainbow held her breath as the feelings she’d been fighting down came back to the surface again. But try as she might, the offer of a listening ear was too much. The thoughts that had been tormenting her poured out in a desperate rush. Rainbow’s voice shook as she spoke. “During the battle, I killed a Troll. And when I killed that Troll, I saw him. Like, really saw him! He was afraid. Even more afraid than I was! And I killed him, just punched my blades through his chest.” She took a shuddering breath before continuing. Spitfire watched Rainbow calmly, her expression unreadable. “And I…I enjoyed it. Somewhere deep down, right beside all of the anger I was feeling, I enjoyed watching him die. I wanted him to be dead, just like all those ponies they’d killed!” Rainbow heard a growl enter her voice as that same anger welled up in her again. It scared her but she couldn’t stop. “I felt like he deserved it. That he deserved more. I wanted him to be in pain. I wanted him to bleed! I saw the blood on my hooves and I wanted more!” She wasn’t sure if Spitfire had reached out to her or if she’d thrown herself at Spitfire, but she found herself clutching at her commanding officer, searching for comfort in the other’s presence. Rainbow gripped Spitfire tightly and felt the other’s hoof brushing her mane soothingly. A gentle shushing reached her over her sobs. As she regained control of herself, Rainbow self-consciously released Spitfire. The Wonderbolt considered her neutrally as Rainbow wiped her eyes with a hoof. “I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to c-cry all over you.” She sniffed and let out a humorless laugh. “You probably think I’m soft or something. I can’t even watch one Troll die without falling to pieces. Some soldier I am.” “There’s nothing wrong with being able to cry,” Spitfire said softly. “There’s nothing wrong with showing that you are still afraid and horrified.” Rainbow looked up at her in time to catch a tear glistening at the corner of the other’s eye. A second later, it was gone, and Spitfire’s expression was set in stone once more, refusing to tell Rainbow any more. The Wonderbolt turned away to look out over the city again. “I don’t have the luxury of showing how I really feel. I’m the Captain of the Air Corps, and as such, I need to put forth a strong front as an example to those who follow me. A leader needs to be firm and powerful.” Spitfire’s voice faded to a whisper. She bit her lip as she fought to keep a hold of herself. She closed her eyes tightly before speaking again. “And crying does not paint that picture.” Rainbow didn’t know what to say. So she sat in silence while the Captain lifted her face into a sudden breeze that whipped across the small ledge. Spitfire let out a sigh as the breeze faded away and she opened her eyes to look over at Rainbow again. “Your feelings aren’t unique,” she said, her tone firm and brisk once more. “I know what it’s like to want to get revenge on the Trolls for what they’ve done. And I know that I’m not the only one to share those feelings. But we can’t let that be the driving force behind our actions. We still need to keep cool heads to win this fight. Can you do that? Can you keep your anger and fear and vengeance in check?” “I can ma’am,” Rainbow replied, trying to muster as much conviction as she could. “Good. I know I can count on you.” Spitfire looked out over the city again. Neither of them said anything, each letting the other have some time with their thoughts. Rainbow processed the Captain's remarks, slowly turning over the implications one by one. Her comment about a strong front over her emotions caught Rainbow’s interest most of all. Was she hinting at suppressed turmoil within herself? Turmoil like Rainbow had momentarily been overwhelmed by? If so, she’d made it sound almost as if she had envy for Rainbow’s freedom to express it. Rainbow was about to ask her about it, but Spitfire spoke first. “You’re something else, Rainbow Dash,” Spitfire said. “I’m what?” “Something else,” Spitfire said again, making a vague gesture. “Something more than most ponies.” “I’m not sure I follow.” Rainbow tilted her head in confusion. Spitfire turned to face her fully, locking eyes on the other Pegasus. “You’re not like other Pegasi in the Air Corps. You’re not like other Pegasi I’ve met anywhere in Equestria for that matter.” Spitfire smiled while shaking her head at the thought. “You’re so independent, and they’re so obedient. They follow the pony ahead of them and you go around the whole line. Your way of thinking is totally different from theirs.” “Thanks, I think,” Rainbow said gloomily. “No, it is a good thing. See, during the dive against the Troll artillery, every squadron turned and ran when those things started firing at us; every squadron except yours. The rest of those ponies might have been following you, but who were you following, hmm?” “Nopony, I guess,” Rainbow shrugged. “Nopony except yourself,” Spitfire countered. “You had the courage to press on while everypony, myself included, turned tail. Or maybe the stubbornness, I don’t know. All I know is that you attacked when we retreated. I commended you once on your judgment and now, I’m doing so again. Your actions gave us an advantage that day, one that we sorely needed.” Rainbow looked away, unable to meet the other’s gaze any longer. “You also said that, last time, I hadn’t gotten anypony killed. I lost a flier this time.” “You did,” Spitfire admitted. “And I feel that loss as deeply as you do, but the results don’t lie. You won us that battle.” Rainbow slammed a hoof into the ground, suddenly furious. “What do I care if my blind luck, reckless anger and stubbornness won us an inch that day?!” she shouted. “A pony died because I was too stupid to get out of range of the biggest threat to the whole Air Corps! And what do you know about how I feel?! Camera Flash wasn’t just in my squadron. He was from my home town! I knew him!” Spitfire remained silent in the face of the outburst, though a crease in her brow hinted that she was not calm. Rainbow checked herself and shut her mouth before she said anything she would seriously regret. When Spitfire did respond, it was in a low, hard tone. “I know much more about how you feel than you think. I put you in the position that allowed you to lead that pony to his death. Don’t think that doesn’t weigh on my conscience. And you didn’t get that position for free, either. I moved Fire Streak to my squadron after his demotion to fill a vacancy! We lost Rapidfire in the battle by the river.” Spitfire almost choked on the words but she pressed on. “You’ve been hurt by what happened out there and you’ve been scared by what’s happened inside yourself. But you are not the only one fighting this war. You aren’t the only one being hurt by it. Don’t ever forget that!” They stared at each other as the heated words echoed in their ears. After what felt like an hour, Rainbow blinked. She sat down, ears dropped back and muzzle lowered shamefully. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not thinking straight.” “You’re thinking as straight as any of us are,” Spitfire sighed. “Nopony really knows what they’re doing here. It’s not like any of us were ready for a war to creep up on us. We’ve got to stick together though.” Rainbow nodded. “But I can’t help feeling so alone in this. Cut off, like some part of me is missing, and no matter who’s with me, they’re not really with me.” “I know what you mean,” Spitfire said, putting a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “We both feel like nopony can understand what’s going on inside us because it’s too horrible to imagine anypony else going through it. We see each other, more or less composed on the outside, and we think, ‘They can’t possibly be dealing with the same thing I am. They look fine.’ But that’s just it. We all look fine on the outside. But we’re all hurting on the inside. For now, just remember that we’ve all got each other’s backs.” Spitfire waited until Rainbow nodded before speaking again. “I’ve got other business to discuss with you, but it can wait,” Spitfire said, stepping away and pinning her badge on again. “Take some time and collect yourself, then find me again.” She returned Rainbow’s salute and took off, winging down into the city again. Rainbow stayed where she was, hopelessly homesick. Her gaze turned south to the forested hills that hid Ponyville from view. A tear stung the corner of her eye and she wiped it away. I’d give just about anything to see my friends again right now, she thought. It wouldn’t hurt to be reminded exactly why I thought it was worth it to be here. ~*~*~ Big Mac had no trouble locating Lieutenant Crimsontide in the bustling camp. He knew he’d been injured in the fighting and once he knew which medical tent he was in, he only had to follow the sound of loud griping. As he passed between the long rows of cots, he came to a dark stain in the dirt that remained from where Goldengrape had died. Other ponies passing it gave it a wide berth and an uneasy glance. He also hesitated involuntarily as he stepped around it. As Big Mac drew closer, he saw that Zacon was in the process of arguing with a nurse over the quality of the food he’d been given. The nurse wouldn’t find him anything else to eat and adamantly refused to let him out of bed to find it himself. “If you don’t have time to deal with it, I’d gladly take care of it myself,” the warrior said in exasperation. “I’m not going to have you stomping around camp, looking for a better meal that doesn’t exist. Rations are rations and you’ll have to deal with it like the rest of us.” She pushed him back into the pillow as he attempted to rise. It was easy for her to do since Zacon winced in pain at her touch. “Besides, I doubt you could even walk, being in that kind of shape.” The grey stallion grumbled and eyed the nurse darkly as she walked away to tend to another pony. As he cast his gaze elsewhere, he spied Big Mac. “Ah yes,” Zacon said, motioning him over. “Kli’vasra, Holn H’jeed.” The strange words were harsh and guttural and Big Mac couldn’t decipher their meaning. But seeing the warrior’s welcoming smile, he wasn’t put off too greatly. “Finally! Someone I can trust to talk sensibly,” Zacon said as Big Mac took a chair beside him. “Can you believe they insist on keeping me here for a few broken bones?” “It shouldn’t be a bruise to your pride to give yourself the time you need to recover,” Big Mac said with the faintest of smiles. “In fact, it’s a braver thing to admit when you can’t shoulder the whole world on your own.” Zacon opened his mouth to retort but closed it again with a grin. “Be that as it may, it isn’t sitting well with me to just be sitting.” “I know the feelin’,” Big Mac replied, rubbing his side at a remembered pain. “You didn’t come all the way over here to share wisdom though, did you?” Zacon sighed and settled back in the cot. “As long as I’m stuck here, I might as well be of some use to someone. Well? Out with it.” “Word’s been goin’ ‘round that a group is formin’ up and you're in the lead,” Big Mac said, approaching the subject carefully. “Cor and Jason will be leading as far as issuing commands is concerned,” Zacon said in a bored tone. “I will lead in a more practical manner.” Big Mac nodded. “I was wonderin’ if there was room for me to join you.” Zacon regarded him solemnly. “You know,” he said slowly. “There are very few ponies I’d say are fit to join this group. I have no qualms admitting that you are one of them.” “I appreciate that,” Big Mac said. “And if I’m gonna be any use to you, I’m gonna need to be equipped right. I wonder if you’d mind me askin’ after your thoughts on fightin’ styles?” Zacon raised an eyebrow in interest. “You hold your own with that big ol’ axe,” he went on. “What would you say to me givin’ that sort of weapon a try?” Zacon rubbed his chin thoughtfully before responding. “An axe doesn’t seem your type,” he said at last. “I take you for more of the hammer sort. Something that packs a punch, plain and simple, am I right? Tell you what, why don’t you try out a warhammer down at the practice yard and tell me what you think of it?” “I’ll do that,” Big Mac said, nodding in appreciation. He excused himself then. He had no trouble finding a long-hafted maul at the blacksmith and took it down to the fields. It took him an hour to get a feel for the balance required to wield it. He found, however, that it did suit him better than swords and spears had. The blunt impact allowed him to draw the weapon back without worrying about it becoming stuck in the target. In fact, that was how he lost his spear in the fields at the river. There had been no time to retrieve it and he’d spent the rest of the fight improvising with any other weapon he could grab. He returned the weapon to the armory and decided to head back to Zacon to report his success. Zacon was in the same place he had been before, eating a plate of rations with a scowl. When he noticed Big Mac, he put the plate aside and offered a gruff greeting. Big Mac settled in beside him and they spent the rest of the day discussing the finer points of wielding the weapon. ~*~*~ In the foothills of the mountains many miles to the west of the pony capital, the Trolls had established a temporary base camp. Low bulwarks ringed the area and semi-permanent structures were being raised of wood cut from the nearby forests. The camp was quiet, at least as much as a war camp could be. The Trolls who stood guard outside the Chief’s tent watched as a lone figure entered the camp at a leisurely stroll and headed straight toward them. One growled to the other and his companion nodded. When the approaching Troll was directly in front of them, they raised their spears threateningly. “Halt! None are to disturb the Chief now.” The smaller Troll stopped and leaned on his wickedly curved spear. He picked a bit of mud from his blue-tinted fur. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?” he sneered sarcastically. “I was only returning from the front with an urgent report.” “None of your snark, Ragnalau,” the guard warned. “You might enjoy certain privileges as Champion, but not enough to order us aside. The Chief has requested he not be disturbed.” “Oh, he might not want to be, but rest assured if I don’t give him this report now, he’ll be very angry with whoever it is that prevented me from reaching him sooner. You see, it isn’t good news. In fact, it demands his full attention immediately.” Ragnalau eased up closer to the guard and lowered his voice. “Of course if you’d rather, we could simply have a duel to settle this, in which case, I’d be happy to oblige.” The guard gulped and stepped aside. Ragnalau nodded to him mockingly and pushed the thick hide flap open. The interior was dimly lit by a lamp that hung from a hook high on the central pole. The large, square tent was divided into two sections by a cloth screen. The far side held a bed and an ornate wooden trunk. On the open side was a pair of tables with chairs set about them. They were wooden and rough, made quickly but still sturdy. Seated at the smaller table was the Chief. “Ragnalau,” the Chief said in an amused growl. “I should have known you’d be the one to survive to carry me ill news if anyone did.” His heavy shoulders were hunched as he leaned over his meal. The Troll leader’s neck was nearly as thick as the lankier Troll’s chest and had he been standing, he would have been more than a foot taller. A threadbare scarf, adorned with beads, feathers, and carved bone disks and pinned in place with a small gold brooch, was his only decoration. An unassuming axe made of bone hung from one plain leather belt loop and a heavily engraved stone hammer hung across his back in a sling. The sling was made from cords of leather tied in tight patterns and dyed alternately black and red. The hammer looked ornamental but Ragnalau knew it to be otherwise. His fur was thin and vibrantly white while his eyes were black pinpricks under the heavy brows. His clawed hands, though tough and grizzled at the ends of his well muscled arms, were precise and dexterous as he maneuvered a silver fork across the plate to scoop up a morsel of steamed vegetables and lift it to his mouth. He sniffed it and savored the aroma before slipping it delicately into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and Ragnalau regarded him with mild irritation. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a white cloth ringed with stitching in the shape of horseshoes. “Must you be so insufferably quaint, playing with the spoils of our victories like that?” Ragnalau groaned even as he grinned wickedly. “Surely you don’t wish to take so long with your meals for the rest of your life, do you Therogan?” “I will take as much time as I please,” the Chief replied evenly. “And I will be pleased to have the time I take until I have none left.” He stood up and stepped around the table. “But you say you have important news for me?” “Yes, Chief,” Ragnalau said with a half bow. “I return from the Nadrud Tribe’s warriors. Their attack on the mountain city has been repelled in the attempt launched three days ago.” “I am surprised,” Chief Therogan replied in a grave rumble. “You assured me you could lead our warriors into their city, using the mountains to bypass their walls. Surely you did not fail to find suitable paths?” “I did find the paths, Chief.” “Then your failure must have been within the city itself.” A tone of mocking entered his voice. “Did the ponies manage to drive you off? Were they too much for you, my Champion?” “You jest, Chief. But that is exactly what happened.” Therogan frowned. “I do not understand. They’ve fled before us in every other encounter. How is it that you could not manage to crush them while they huddled in their city?” “For the same reason we needed to send the Jungar Tribe to reinforce the Nadrud in the first place,” Ragnalau said sourly. “They were led by a powerful being that commanded magic we did not anticipate. Only this time, I believe more than one of them was present in the city. I could see the devastation at the walls as we crept down from the heights and hear it throughout the streets once we struck.” “Their leaders, hmm? And what of their armies?” “Determined, and,” he paused to reflect. “If I might say, they are more skillful than we anticipated.” “A ‘mass of fearful, weak and defenseless creatures’ I believe you called them when you first reported.” The Chief scratched his chin thoughtfully. “What has changed your mind?” “I fought against one that stood her ground. It was…interesting.” Ragnalau smiled at the memory of his battle with the Unicorn mare. “I think I’ll truly enjoy ending her life.” “I care nothing for your whims with individual ponies. What of our warriors?” “Only a shadow of their former numbers remain from either tribe’s warriors. A few hundred of each, though Nadrud got the leaner meat of it.” “Let them return to our homesteads to the west and send the Tantar Tribe to take their place.” “You intend to launch another attack on the mountain city?” Ragnalau asked with an arched eyebrow. “Just keep throwing bodies at them until they collapse from the weight?” “Watch your tone, Ragnalau.” Therogan let out a low growl of warning. “We both know why you are serving me instead of lining a grave.” The smaller Troll didn’t visibly react, but he also didn’t let another quip loose. “I am not going to throw bodies at them,” the Chief went on, stepping over to the larger table and shifted the crudely drawn maps around until he found a finely printed one that depicted all of Equestria in exquisite detail. He gestured for Ragnalau to join him. “I am sending you to attack where they are softest. Their army is resilient in the face of direct assault and when shepherded by these powerful leaders you mentioned. So we will strike where their leaders are not. We will see how long they can maintain the will to fight when their homes are burning.” He pointed to a town marked on the map, south of the pony capital and labeled with the name Ponyville. Ragnalau looked at it for a moment before smiling widely. “I would very much like to know the answer to that question. I can’t wait to get started.”