//------------------------------// // Rise // Story: Never Broken // by Torgaddon //------------------------------// The tall and lanky changelings of the Athal'anel Forest Expanse and the contrasting short and stocky changelings of the Arctic Wastes marched in lockstep from the depths of the great tunnel. For all their faults, none could deny the changeling expertise in burrowing through even the most unyielding stone. The summons of Queen Chrysalis had been answered in mere hours and her two sisters, each accompanied by their hives had burrowed through the world's very crust in order to reach her. Now, row upon row of changelings marched in lockstep from the darkness of the tunnel, their numbers already surpassing the thousands, their bulk carpeting the crevice's base. Spike lay, breathing calmly, upon the slab of granite that served as his bed while Chrysalis busied herself examining his body. She drew her slim fingers along his body, feeling every crease of his muscles, every indentation of the few scales that remained. They were regretfully rare, more often than not, her fingers feeling only cauterized flesh and scar tissue. Too many times she gasped as she touched a particularly deep scar. At this point, his body was being held together by his sheer stubbornness and the chitinous patches she herself had used to heal his most grievous of wounds. Twenty seven fist sized gauges along the chest, eighty four sword and ax carvings along his neck and sides, thirty two more along his legs, seventeen distinct places where his chest and stomach had been pierced clean through by either spear, rapier or blade. Two enormous holes, clean through his gut where Kilmaiil had run him through with his own blades and a long, deep scar along his throat, now all three wounds similarly covered by chitinous plating. Each one of these would have killed a veteran warrior ten times over, more than half would have killed even the most elite of Draka. And these were but the largest and freshest of his wounds, now covered in chitinous plating instead of his usual flesh. All along his body, more than a hundred fresh nicks and slashes covered it, stitched closed by use of changeling web and over forty-five percent of his body was a mass of burn scars. This was not counting the number of broken bones she had mended or damaged internal organs she had helped stabilize in order for his Draka anatomy to heal. What was worse was that these were only his freshest wounds. Beneath them she could see a thousand times a thousand battles worth of scar tissue. Chrysalis instinctively made the sign of the Spider Matron, her beloved deity, above her breast and returned to examining his body. Amazingly enough, for all the wounds and scars that covered him, the Draka's body was an epitome of vastness. Not a single ounce of fat lay underneath all that skin, scales and scar tissue, but pure muscle, almost to the point where it was deformed. If one looked at it, one could easily notice the definition of each individual muscle, brought upon by incessant training and unending battle, obvious even underneath the scars. Instinctively she couldn't help but wonder what kind of children this man could sire, what lineage of heroes and legends could spawn from him. "You are leering" came Spike gravely voice. Chrysalis snapped back to attention, realizing that she had been staring at his muscles for far more than it would have been polite, even for an examination. She coughed once to mask her embarrassment. "You will have to excuse me. But it truly is a wonder that you are alive, moreso even after what you have endured even before reaching me". Spike simply huffed a burst of green flame. "Is that which i have requested complete?". Chrysalis turned behind her and gazed at her two sisters, Queen Cicada, the ivory skinned hive mistress of the Athal'anel Forest Hive and Queen Arachne, the six armed warrior queen of the Arctic Wastes Hive. Both oversaw an army of Silk Moth Changelings as they busied themselves spinning their web around strips of chainmail, creating what could only be described as chainmail bandages. Occasionally either one of them would reach out and coat the fresh bandages in a clear substance while murmuring incantations. Arachne turned and looked at Chrysalis. "Almost finished sister. As per the warrior's request, they will be as tough as steel plate, and completely inflammable and perfect isolators. Although i hesitate to ask of their purpose" she began as Spike rose to his full height and walked towards the sisters. "Good. It is fortunate that you have come in aid of your sister". "Fortune has nothing to do with it" came Queen Cicada's melodious voice. "If Kilmaiil manages to open the gate, the world is doomed. His proclamation has been heard around the world, on a fundamentally instinctive level. The tribes of Zebri'la, the warbands of Griffinstone, the hosts of the Dragon Kingdoms, even the warpacks of the Diamond Dog Dominion are marching on the Crystal Empire to try and stop them. We were simply the fastest to reach since we have been forewarned by our sister". "Nonetheless we... I owe you much". Chrysalis smiled a sad, tired grimace. "Then kill Kilmaiil for us" she chided knowing the ridiculousness of so casually asking for the head of a god. Her mouth clamped shut as Spike answered simply. "Yes". Silence fell around those assembled. "Spike... I healed you so that you may challenge Kilmaiil... I know you are capable of doing it... but after what he did to you... how can you be so sure that you can win". Spike turned and shot the Queen a shamed look. "You have yet to see me fight Kilmaiil" he answered simply. "What are you...?" "What you have seen was a beast. Simple. Mindless. Foolish. That THING fighting Kilmaiil, was not me". "... But you were strong... stronger than ever before... faster... more ferocious that ever...". Spike opened his arms as if to encompass the cavern. "And what is strength without focus. What is power without the discipline to use it. Kilmaiil has yet to fight me. He has only fought a rabid dog, now it is time for him to fight a wolf. I will challenge Kilmaiil. I will kill him. And then I will die". He ended the statement with the finality of a headsman's ax, leaving the three Queens speechless. To speak so easily of challenging a god. To speak so casually of one's death. It would have been unbelievable had they not heard it with their own ears. There was no arrogance in his voice, none of the conceit so characteristic and detrimental to the strong. Spike was not boasting, he was making an oath. Before another word could be spoken, the Silk Moths loosed a twirling sound, signalling the end of their work. "Good. Armor is of no use to me now. I will need as much freedom of movement as possible" Spike said as he stepped forth and examined the bandages. Nodding satisfied, he began covering his arm with the bandage and when is entire arm was covered, he tightened it. The sound of skin tearing, scale cracking and fiber being pulled to it's breaking point filled the empty cavern. "Have you lost your mind? Do you want your wounds to open again?" Chrysalis screeched, actual concern obvious in her voice. Spike said nothing, merely continued his operation. Chrysalis made to say something else, but a hand on her shoulder silenced her. She turned to see Cicada's gentle face locked in a frightened grimace. "That's not it. He is pulling so hard on the bandages because he wants to make sure that if... when the wounds open again, he will not bleed out... that is why he asked for chainmail reinforced bandages, he is too wounded to fight properly in armor. The bandages are not help his wounds heal. They're purpose is to keep his body together, for as long as possible". Chrysalis suddenly felt sick as the gruesome reality of Spike's actions dawned on her. Spike still said nothing, merely continued his painful work, dealing with the agony of his actions in the only way the Draka knew how to. He endured it. Iron whistled it's mournful cry speeding through the air and shattered against hell-forged armor as the cannonball connected with it's target. Ground shook and daemons howled, but for every one that died two more took their place. They roared, screamed and cursed, but never did they falter, clambering like manic ants on the mountain of daemonic corpses, only to die spitted upon the blades and spears of the Crystal Ponies. Already the corpse mound had reached such a height it was almost level with the first ring of walls that protected the Crystal capital. Soon, the ponies would have to retreat, relinquish control of this ring of wall and fortify the next, higher section and defend it for as long as they were able. Ponies ran from side to side, their arms always encumbered with arrows, gunpowder, water skins or bandages. All did their part, soldier or civilian, male or female, young or old, wounded or able, for death was the great equaliser and all were the same in the Reaper's hollow gaze. Shining Armor stood on the tallest ramparts, launching bolt after bolt of magic, stopping only long enough to bellow another order and direct battalions of warriors to the areas which needed support. Blocks of infantry, spear and shield, swordsmen, crissbowmen and battlemages stood ready in the courtyard, awaiting only the clarion horns and signal flags to be instructed upon their destinations. Further still the moaning wounded, too many to fit in the infirmeryes any more, cried out in pain as those still able, bandaged wounds with whatever cloth they could and ran with medicine or water from cot to cot. The chaos of all out war was in full effect and the battle of attrition was being lost, slowly but surely. Farthest from the battle, in what had once been the bustling, ever populated beauty of the Imperial Castle, only five pairs of feet hit the crystal floor, it's emptyness echoing them sonorously. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy walked through the empty halls, the still comatose form of Twilight cradled gently in Applejack's strong arms. They all looked haggard, their pelts encrusted with dust, their manes ragged and messy, their clothes torn and matted with sweat. But none of these things struck as much as did their eyes, downcast and emptied of most save sorrow. The loss they had suffered was fresh, much too fresh, and it stung the soul. Only Rainbow Dash stood out as furious rather than sad. Although any who knew her as a person saw this as her way of coping with loss more than any form of indifference. "I don't get it. Why are the princesses calling us to the Grand Library now? We're the elements of Harmony for buck's sake, we should be out there, helping... as should they". She ended her tirade and looked around as noone answered. The other four girls just walked, eyes down, Rarity and Fluttershy looking as if they were about burst into crying at any moment. Rainbow Dash shook her head and continued, her anger rising. "The entire world's goin' to hell and this is the moment they've picked to go all mysterious and cryptic. They could've just told us what the reason was and we would've been done with it in ten seconds flat". "Ah dunno Rainbow. At... at this point... ah'm gonna be grateful for any peace an' quiet we get. For as long as we still got a world to enjoy it in". answered Applejack, her voice a morose monotone. Rainbow Dash had never heard the usually tough as nails orange pony sound so defeated in her entire life. The cyan pegasus landed on the crystal floor in front of them and stopped their advance. "Don't talk like that. We don't get to talk like that. We don't have the right to feel self pity anymore". She said through gritted teeth. The four other girls looked at their friend with a mixture of fear and surprise. Rarity was first to recover. "Dashie... darling... a-after what happened, we all need at least a bit of time to mourn. Y-you can't just expect us to simply get over it at a moment's notice..." "THAT'S DAMN WELL WHAT I EXPECT YOU TO DO. YOU'LL SAVE THE TEARS, THAT DAMN DEFEATED TONE AND WHATEVER ELSE BUCKING BULLSHIT YOU WANT FOR LATER. WE HAVE A JOB TO DO NOW". Dash screamed her hands shaking with anger. It was Rarity's turn to become indignant. "Not all of us have your ability to simply forget someone... you little ingrate... SOME OF US ACTUALLY CARED ABOUT SPI...". Her voice got cut off as the cyan furred hand connected painfully with the unicorn's cheek. "Don't you dare. Don't you FUCKING DARE even think i don't already miss him so much it hurts. Don't imagine, not even for a second, that i didn't care for that big guy as much as any of you". Rarity fell back, not because of the throbbing pain on her cheek, but because she was horrified at what she had almost accused Dash of. The pegasus was crying profusely and hugging herself at this point, as she continued. "If-if we let ourselves talk like that, think and act like that... than it meant nothing. His sacrifices, all the pain he suffered for our sake. We can't let ourselves fall to despair. Not anymore. He sacrificed himself so that we'd have another chance at life and spending that borrowed time feeling sorry for ourselves, would be the absolute worst way we could ever insult him and his memory. And i won't. I refuse. It's the least i can do for him. Even if we were to thank him every day until we die, it still wouldn't be enough to repay him for all he's endured for us. ... Gods dammit..." she hiccuped, trying not to fall into a bawling mess "we can't insult his memory... in that way... we just can't". Slender white arms embraced the trembling pegasus, only for three more pairs of arms to follow as the girls hugged their pained friend. "... you're right... and i... i am sorry. Of course you are right". Rarity said as she drew am arm across her face, wiping away tears before they even had time to form and flashing the pegasus a wide smile. "There will be time to mourn later, we got a job to do right now". "Ah hell, when all this is over, ah'll get granny Smith to make us a batch of her strongest apple liqueur. We'll all toast in the big guy's name" added Applejack. "Yeah, maybe by then even Twilight'll be done with her nap", chided in Pinkie, eliciting a few reserved chuckles from the other girls. "Are you girls sure it's okay for us to let her stay... umm... sleeping like this? I mean... i'm sure the princesses would be able to wake her if they tried" asked Fluttershy. Applejack sighed and smiled sadly to her friend. "Ah say we let her wake up on her own sugarcube. Out of all of us she was closest to Spike and... well... honestly the more time she doesn't have to face what happened, the better I'd say". The other girls nodded in agreement, looking at the peaceful face of their passed out friend. They all knew it was a peace that would not last. Changeling claws burrowed through hard stone like knives through butter, the fifty stag-beetle changelings cutting through it as if the ground did not even exist, whatever debris remained being devoured and reduced to nothingness in the stomachs of the five stone-larvae that followed them. The changeling army followed in a constant trot, Spike walking in a hurried pace among them. He had to admit he was very impressed. Underground, the changelings were maintaining the same speed any other army would have had above ground, even more so, being able to go in a straight line, burrowing directly under both mountain and forest alike. At this rate, in a few more hours they would most likely be directly under the Crystal Empire itself. His body hurt incessantly, every pore of his being screaming in pain as the overly tight bandages pushed and pulled at his wounds. Only near his joints had he left the bandages looser so that he may be able to move without encumbrance. No blood came from the wounds but neither did the pain subside. This was the plan's price. Even as he had walked he had painted Draken Runes on many of the bandage strips. Normally these had to be painted on Draka flesh in order to work, but the badages were so close to his skin, so embalmed with his essence and pain, they would work just the same. Only his lower legs and forearms had been encased in chitinous armor, his midsection covered by the ringmail kilt he always wore and a deep purple cloth obscuring it. Everything beneath was the reinforced bandages. Even his face and head was covered, a forehead protector hidden under the bandages in the spot where he had cracked his skull open, trying to headbut Kilmaiil. From his waist sash hung his remaining weapons, Ildezgherdi and Tenchi Kaijin, Karasuma having been broken by Kilmaiil. To his side the three changeling queens traveled in their palenquins, carried upon the shoulders of burly changelings. Chrysalis alone sat in a palenquin that did not belong to her, held aloft by changelings not of her hive, for she had none. Her empire had been stolen, her children reduced to mindless automata and her queenship had been trampled into dust, yet Spike could not help but look upon her with respect. Deposed and lacking the means to rule, she nonetheless refused to allow herself to break. Chrysalis had regained the regal posture of a true queen and her gaze held the practiced air of indifference inherent to one born to be nobility. As one who had dedicated his life to the art of war, Spike could both understand and respect such dedication and drive to one's chosen lot in life. He was a warrior, she was a queen and neither would ever forget their duties. With her doubts out of the way, she no longer hoped only to fight against Kimaiil. She marched to win. Once again, Spike saw her as the colossus she was meant to be. "We shall arrive shortly" began Queen Cicada, her long white hair flowing with every word, as if perpetually submerged in water. "Our spies have told us of Kilmaiil's state. His army is currently besieging the Crystal Empire capital. This is almost the third day of the siege and from what they have told us, the defenders are at their very limit". Spike hand snapped uncontrollably to the hilt of Ildezgherdi. He said nothing but his inquisitive glare posed the question for him. "How do you know all this?" asked the grim Draka. "Because knowledge is power, and we have plenty of such specific power. It is our job to know such things" answered Queen Arachne her six slender hands busily weaving a very small scale version of Spike's bulk from her own silk. "You have a strategy?" Spiked asked. "Our tacticians have already advised us to emerge from the daemon army's left flank and push them into a pincer hold, grinding them into the defenders" queen Arachne answered, pointing to three particularly old and corpulent changelings that sat in a communal palenquin slightly to her left. They puffed up their chests in pride and smiled condescendingly at Spike. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he regarded the fine silks they wore and the prodigious bellies they held, proof of easy and hedonistic lives. These were neither warriors nor commanders, these were scholars and, although Spike had much respect for intellectual pursuits, war in theory and practice were two entirely different things. Their assessment and tactical advice had been amateurish at best. They had not considered the size of the daemon army, neither the state of the defenders spirits. His eye caught another form, this one antithetical to those of the elder tacticians. He was a tall and lanky changeling, no older than twenty-six winters, yet he nonetheless bore the gaze and poise of a seasoned general. This changeling had not a single ounce of fat on him, only raw muscle, cultured in the forge of battle. His armor and weapon were perfectly and lovingly maintained, cleaned and oiled. He turned his head to the Draka as he felt Spike looking at him and the Draka saw a changeling green orb regarding him, the second eye, white, blind and empty, crossed by a scar that ran from forehead to cheek. The changeling looked for a few more moments at Spike and offered a short bow, returning his countenance to the road ahead. Spike almost smiled to himself for he had recognized the look. It was a look he had flashed Sekeolath many times during his training. No timidness or fear, just the respect and acknowledgement of a superior in both experience and might. This was the look the young general had given Spike. Spike liked this one, he reminded the Draka of himself at that age, and decided to test him. "And what is your council youngling?" he asked the changeling warrior in his deep baritone. The white-eyed changeling made to answer only to be cut off by one of the fat tacticians. "Good Draka pardon the interruption, but i am certain there is no need for you to ask a fledgling of his opinion, clearly not when you have access to our vast experience and..." "You are excused, now be silent" growled Spike, unmistakable threat edging his voice, effectively shutting the tactician up. The Draka was already becoming bored of the tactician's smug self assurance. Those who held no field experience had no right to speak so casually regarding matters of war. The tall warrior fixed his gaze on the changeling officer once more. The changeling stammered for a few seconds, as surprised by Spike's change from spectator to warlord as all others present. "I believe a flank attack would be ill advised in present circumstances. From our gathered intel, the opposing army is enormous, much too large for us to properly attack their flank. We would succeed only in giving them an opening to envelop our comparatively smaller armies. Moreover the siege of the capital has been ongoing for the past two and a half days. I doubt the pony defenders are in any state fit to grind them down even if we were to somehow push against the daemons...". The officer's input was cut short by a clearing of throats as the tacticians attempted to interject. Before any could say a word, Queen Cicada called. "If any of you make another sound, i will have Arachne stitch your lips together" she ended then turned to the officer with her usual demure demeanor "Commander Yog'yhod if you would be so kind as to continue". Commander Yog'yhod nodded curtly "My suggestion would be to burrow directly under the capital and emerge en masse. Not only will we have the element of surprise but our direct and immediate support would be a morale booster for what must already be harrowed and exhausted defenders. Moreover, our numbers are limited while the daemon's are endless. We will need their support as much as they need ours and the field advantage must be on our side if we are to have any chance of holding them at bay". Although Spike's mangled face could form no smile, his eyes did just that. The youth had described his own assessment to the letter. Looking at the young warrior, Spike concluded. "Once we have emerged, you are to rally your soldiers and support the pony defenders. Find a certain commander named Shining Armor and work alongside him to form an impregnable defense. I trust that you will exceed expectations in the task i have set out for you, young one, you bear my trust and the fate of the world upon your shoulders" the large Draka ended with a friendly clap upon the youth's shoulders that almost launched the changeling into the ground. However Spike's words had succeeded in their intended purpose and Commander Yog'yhod no longer walked with the downcast gaze of a youth among elders but the gravitas of a warrior who been given a purpose and a chance to show the full extent of his abilities. He would not disappoint. "My queens, surely you would not allow this... non-changeling to govern your armies..." began the eldest tactician only to be cut off again. "This non-changeling as you have so eloquently put it, has fielded the greatest army in existence for far more than all three of your lifespans combined" started Queen Chrysalis "Entire kingdoms have risen and fallen without matching a single iota of what he and his Legion have accomplished, and i expect you to show him the appropriate respect". The elder backed away, fear obvious in his eyes. A last strand of defiance in the face of being unheeded in favor of a youth and an outsider reared it's head and said it's peace. "Then were is said great army now?" All came to a standstill as Spike suddenly stopped and slowly lift his gaze. Threat, pure and palpable, permeated the air and every changeling in the area around Spike pushed and shoved in order to get as far away from him as possible, every pore in their bodies screaming of inconceivable and immediate danger. The foul and unmistakable stench of urine spoiled the breathable air as the elder wet himself, wilting like a flower under the burning sun that was Spike's gaze. "Mongrels dogs have no right to talk of the fate of wolves, boy" Spike said and without a single more word began his road anew. The air relaxed and all breathed easily, the three queens no exception to this, the elder falling into his palenquin pillow like a wet rag. The meaning of Spike's words had not been lost on him, if he ever brought the subject of Spike's Legion again, he would die. Queen Chrysalis shot the elder a glare that could pierce armor and ordered the palenquin bearers to hurry their steps and catch up to Spike. "Once we have arrived, we will need to reach the portal before Kilmaiil" she began "i doubt any other than you, myself, my sisters and a scant few others have any chance of facing the creature but if we do not, there us no one other who could". Spike ruminated on what he was about to say for a few moments as if he wanted to say anything else but in the end he spoke the words. "We will need the Elements of Harmony". Chrysalis looked at the gigantic Draka for a few more moments, thoroughly surprised. She had seen in Spike's heart just how much the warrior cared about those six girls and of the lengths Spike had gone and would go in order to keep them safe. "It will be dangerous. Are you certain it is a wise course of action?". A low rumbling growl emanated from the depths of Spike's throat. "If the portal begins to open we will need overwhelming magical power in order to close it just in it's burgeoning stages. I will be occupied with Kilmaiil to add my own as such it falls upon you, your sisters and our allies. We will need as many such allies as we can find. It is true what you say, the danger will be great and the risk titanic, but this is not a battle we can afford to lose. And i will be thrice gods damned if i am going to let the Abyss take this world and my girls from me". His heavy gauntlet sounded a metallic screech as Spike ground his fist in anger to such an extent that even the chitinous metal threatened to break apart. "When we reach the portal I will be counting on you to make sure that the girls will focus on the process of keeping it closed. No matter what happens to me you will have to do whatever you must to keep them focused on it. I trust you understand" he added with finality. Chrysalis nodded in recognition. Spike meant to put his life on the line a final time and assure their victory. As they walked she could not help but steal quick glances at this warrior that now walked beside her palenquin. For all his scars, his cold, foreboding eyes and his mangled face, she had to admit that Spike cut a very imposing figure, even handsome if one was to ignore his facial scar. Tall, massive, with a body possessed of such solidity and vastness, he reminded her of the personification of a mountain fortress, carved into the very face of unyielding granite. But it was not that which made her gawk, almost leer at the Draka. She had felt it as she had feed on his emotions. Queen Chrysalis had never once in her entire life met a creature possessed such unyielding will and undeniable determination. Here was one who would walk into the Abyss itself with a smile on his face and laughter in his heart and still emerge back alive and all the stronger for it. Supreme strength, speed and skill, all these had been gained by naught but pure effort. That was why she believed that Spike was the only creature with the ability to stand tall before even Kilmaiil. Because Spike could not even physically comprehend the meaning of the word "surrender". The great double doors of the Grand Library opened with a long and mournful groan. Ancient dust billowed out in the long forgotten corners of the labyrinthine chamber, exposing dread tomes best left forsaken only to cover others. The Grand Library, unopened since the time Dread King Sombra had last set foot in it. A room easily the size of Twilight's entire castle, it was a world of ceiling high bookshelves, the many tomes upon them radiating with almost sentient malevolent energies. It's bookshelf formed corridors seemed to stretch endlessly only to turn at odd angles and stop abruptly. One would find themselves suddenly surrounded by books and half filled shelves and backtrack only to realize they are lost in the maze of dark knowledge. The mad fury of Sombra's insanity still reverberated in the depths of this chamber and, in the dead of night, those few guards with the mettle to accept being stationed outside the large doors had sworn they heard the crazed ramblings of dead things or the sudden thuds of fists being slammed against the barred portcullis. It stood as the only dark spot, the only festering wound that blemished the paradise that was the Crystal Empire's castle, the Light-Embraced Palace, forbidden to all save those under direct orders from Cadence herself to enter. The rushing air brought with it the raw pungency of mildew and the chill of the grave. It howled like a bedeviled oxen until the girls closed the two great doors as if the very prospect of an opening to the outside world stimulated it's unholy appetite to be set free of this forgotten place. The six girls looked around and could only stifle a shiver. Normally not one of them would be caught dead in such a place, not even Twilight with all her love of knowledge, often bordering on obsession. They gulped audibly, feeling more and more diminutive in the sepulchral chamber with each passing moment. Still, they did not stop and continued making their way through the maze-like walls of parchment that was the Black Library, towards their destination, the limp form of Twilight still draped across Applejack's back. A dozen gigantic lit braziers shot their light across the area, the warm glow doing it's best to push away at the encroaching shadows and the unnatural chill permeating the library. Each brazier marked a spot in the great rotunda of the library, a magnificent manifestation of Sombra's megalomania, a chamber of such titanic proportions it made the library itself seem merely as a smaller sibling. Beneath each brazier ten tomes sat open, their dark pages moving in a wind that did not blow, sending dark whispers to those willing or fool enough to listen. Further still in the middle of the rotunda, a twelve pointed star was drawn in chalk, each edge pointing to it's adjacent brazier, the books underneath each one turning their pages under the delicate fingers of a gale that did not exist. Anyone with the most rudimentary knowledge in advanced magics would have seen the chalked symbol on the ground and would have ran. They would have ran as if the very dogs of hell were chasing them. However, the only scholar among the six girl was comatose and, as such, the girls walked towards it and the three dour faced princesses that awaited them, heedless of the danger that they were in. Memories are the first thing a sentient, self aware creature has. By way of memories does one garner traits and by traits does one garner a personality. As such it could easily be said that memories are the fundamental building blocks of the soul. To alter memories is something that cannot be done without altering the very nature of one's soul, an idea so intrinsically disgusting to any sentient creature, that not even those practiced in the art of necromancy, who deal in the trade of life force for minions and power, dare touch the soul. Indeed it is an idea which makes any magic caster want nothing more than to retch, spewing their guts upon the ground in disdain for such an atrocious action. Souls are the realm of gods, where mortals have no right to step. The Mandala of Forsaken memories was just that. A gate into the soul, where one could enter and forcibly tear away memories and, implicitly, erase a part of the soul. It was what Celestia had to do and it made her sick. Her little ponies may revere her as Goddess of the Sun, but she had no right to do such a thing. No right and no desire. But she had to. If she was to show even the smallest amount of gratitude to Spike she would have to swallow her own love for the six ponies and fulfill his last wish. The mane Six approached the center of the rotunda in silence, every emotion drained from them at the sight of the three somber princesses. Luna and Cadence both wore the dejected faces of those who had to do something monstrous, whilst Celestia bore the dour face and sad, empty smile of a mother that had to hurt her children in order to spare them more pain. It was such a pitiful expression that even Rainbow Dash's righteous anger at their inactivity dispersed like like a candle in a rainstorm. "My little ponies, my kind, brave little ponies" she began with a quivering voice, her eyes stopping on Twilight's limp form more than once. "Thank you for granting my selfish request and coming to this sad place". "Umm... not... not a problem princess, happy tah help" began Applejack, her entire frame quivering, the mane on the back of her neck standing up, her guts warning her in screaming tones that something was not right. "But shouldn't we all be out there... with all the rest 'o them ponies... helping with the fight". Celestia smiled again as a tear rolled down her face. "You need not worry about that. You need not worry about anything, ever again". A shudder ran through the five girls as those ominous words were spoken. They had almost sounded like a death sentence. "Princess... what's going on?... you're.... you're scaring us...". Celestia's facade fell and now all could see the horrific sadness hidden behind the fake smile in all it's terrible clarity. "That would be the last thing i would ever want to do... my sweet, kind-hearted little ones... please don't hate me for what i must do. It... has to be done... It was his last wish... that you be given another chance at happiness... that... that... you would forget... that you would not even remember him enough to mourn him." The girls were fidgeting nervously, trading concerned glances at each other, their bodies ready to bolt at any given moment as they could almost sense the wrongness of what Celestia was saying. "Princess?" muttered Rainbow Dash once more, uselessly, unheard by Celestia who was still lost in her tirade, trying desperately to give what she was about to do, proper justification. "Even after all he did for us, we still failed. The world is to end soon enough..." she ended with painful finality. "However..." she began anew, the smile on her regal face made all the more out of place by the tears flowing from her eyes " ... there is still a part of his request that we can fulfill. We shall make the six of you forget. All of it... the invasion... the loss... the pain... even Spike... as he requested. We will make your final hours upon this condemned world be filled with naught but bliss and joy... like the good days... when it as just the six of you on adventures... discovering the magic of friendship... and when the end will come... you will not even know it happens... it will be painless... that all this failure of a princess can offer you... and him... anymore. I am truly sorry" she ended a took a deep bow before the dumbfounded girls. Luna kept her head down unable to bear the judging eyes of the subjects they had failed and Cadence shook her head in resignation, disgust with what she was about to do, clear on her face. "Let's just get this over with" she spat the words out as if they burned her mouth. Before any of the girls could react, blazing coruscation was born to screaming life from the three alicorn horns and the braziers edging the rotunda hurled with brackish, dirtied white flame. The twenty pointed star glowed like a small sun and the five girls and their unconscious friend froze as every muscle in their body flexed as taught as if rope was binding them. Five pairs of eyes moved erratically as only now did the horrific implications of Celestia's speech became clear to them. There was no deception, no joke, no misunderstanding to be had. Celestia meant to erase the very existence of Spike from their minds. "NOOOO!!!" Rainbows voice screamed within her own skull, her body unable to move enough to even scream aloud. Forget him? After all he had done for them? No. That could not be allowed to happen. Her eyes squeezed to pinpricks of despair as she realized that she was beginning to have a hard time in remembering Spike's features. All around her she heard the grunted wailing of her friends. The ground shook as another wave if daemons slammed themselves against the waiting shields of the gathered pony armies. Already they had been pushed beyond the defense walls of the capital and were now arrayed before the Light-Embraced Palace, in blocks of infantry, five ranks deep with a row 3 ranks deep of archers and war spell unicorns. Pegasi danced upon the skies harassing the daemonic forces with crossbow fire and lance charges and war-chariots pulled by the fabled Jade Hounds imported from far Cathay, reaped a terrible harvest of daemon blood. Furthest back, the Great Cannons of the Crystal Empire sung with deadly tremolo and let loose with iron and fire, steel and spikes, even shards of priceless gemstones and crystals. The cannonballs had run out a long time ago, but the red-hot cannons still shot, it's ammo - anything that could be stuffed into a barrel and be shot hard enough to do damage. The battle was being fought on the back foot with the Equestrian and Crystal armies being pushed further and further towards the Palace with every passing minute. Now finally they were holding but simply because the were at the very end of the line. The ranks were too close to allow daemonic charges and this last foothold was much easier to defend than the entirety of the capital. Moreover the fight was being fought with the manic despair and ferocity characterizing those caught in a corner with no way out. The ponies knew there would be no quarter given and they asked for none. They knew that this would be the end. There would be no prisoners, no mercy, no surrender. And they asked for none of those things. Shining bellowed hoarsely and uppercut the daemon before him, breaking teeth and fracturing bone. As the prone and pitiful creature fell, the blue maned unicorn raked the edge of his blade across the monster's throat, opening a second, crimson mouth beneath it's first one. Spittle covered his chin and froth edged his lips giving the usually kind and gentle unicorn a brutal visage. At the edge of his mind he was glad Cadence and Twili were not there to witness the state he was in. But it could not be helped. Shining fought no longer as a soldier who had to do his duty, but as a father, a brother, a husband, a man who had to do anything and everything he could in order to buy the ones he loved if only a few more moments of life. All around him came similar sounds and he looked to see familiar faces edged in despaired ferocity. Stallions and mares fought like the possessed and for however much it was worth, they gave to the daemons as much as they took. Blow for blow. Wound for wound. Death for death. But it was of no use. The sea of daemons was numberless and they pushed and shoved, hunger alight in their eyes and malicious insanity in their voices. It took five ponies to take down even the lowest of daemons and the only thing holding the lines together at this point was the close proximity they had with their comrades and the knowledge that they were the last line of defense. Beyond them lay the gates of the Crystal Palace, filled almost to refuse with those too old, weak, young or wounded to fight. Mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, all put their faith in those at the forefront, for there was nowhere else to go. If they were to fall, the Crystal Palace would be bathed in the blood of innocents. "Hold the line" sergeants bellowed "stand or die as you will but hold the line. Make them pay for every inch". Shining armor turned as he heard a shriek from his left. A soldier shrieked and trashed as her throat was torn to shreds by a swine headed daemon, even as the ponies around it pierced the monstrosity to bloody chunks of shredded flesh. With a defiant roar he launched barrage of magical darts that reduced the porcine daemon's head to a smoldering mess. It did not even get to fall, the female pony's carving it up as it stumbled away. Shining knelt and grabbed hold of the soldiers hand as she gagged, her ruined throat spurting lifeblood. He looked into her eyes and stayed with her until the light faded from her wet eyes. It was over, but at the very least she had not died alone. He shuddered, knowing the she was one of the fortunate few, to die within the closeness of familiar faces. War is many things, considerate not among them. Everywhere he looked the lines were being pushed to the point of breaking and every time the ponies pushed the daemons back, the monsters took beloved comrades from their allies grasps to be rent to shreds in a sea of howling daemons. Only had had the fortune of dying close to their comrades. Shining lifted himself as another wave of daemons surged and added his own shoulder to the shield wall. The impact came with all the mass and fury of a tidal wave and he could feel his feet skidding uselessly on the cobblestones, desperate for purchase. From all around him a cacophony of screams and howls, sergeants shouting encouragement and threats in equal measure, soldiers yelling, some begging, most cursing and instinctively he added his own voice. "PUSH!!! PUSH!!! PUSH LIKE YOUR DAMNED MOTHERS PUSHED!!!". It was all for naught. A billowing, tumultuous clatter arose from the left flank and when he looked, his blood froze in it's veins. Through the press of soldiers and the dust of combat he saw that a breach had formed in the line of the left flank. Ponies routed, too panicked to form any significant resistance while the sergeant's futile attempts at reordering them were silenced by the tip of a crude spear protruding from his neck. Daemons billowed like a malformed tide and soon the small breach began to grow terrifyingly quick as they charged the flanks and rears of the defending lines around them. Immediately the flow of battle changed as the press slackened around the right and center only to amplify significantly around the left flank, with every daemon around a 300 foot radius trying to reach the breach and add their own blade to the slaughter. Shining cursed wildly. "Reserves with me!" he roared and charged at the rapidly expanding breach with half a dozen soldiers those too wounded or exhausted to hold a shield wall, limping behind him as the pitiful excuse for a reserve. This would be the end. He could deal with a daemon, maybe even three if he was lucky, but he had no chance of holding the avalanche of daemons that surged from the breach. No one could. There were no more reserves, no room to maneuver and no more strength to spare. The last line would fall. Thoughts of his daughter and wife pierced his mind and he could feel his eyes begin to water. How he would have wanted to see them a final time before he died. But it was too late for regrets. All that remained to do was to end it as spitefully as possible and take as many daemons into the grave with him as he could. "Goodbye Cadence" he whispered to himself and steeled his resolve. Shining Armor's drew in a monumental breath and roared as he made to charge. - Splash - His war cry stopped short as his boot sunk a few inches into the suddenly soft and melting stone. Before his eyes a large area began to bubble. Granite tiles were BUBBLING. The unmistakable sound of simmering and the smell of molten stone assailed his ears and nose, almost drowning out the sound of the confused braying of daemons who had suddenly begun finding themselves slipping and falling into a molten mass of clinging, burning stone. The ground suddenly reddened then whitened at an accelerated rate. The blue haired pegasus's eyes blood ran cold and he yelled as he dove back, away from the suddenly smoldering area. With a cataclysmic crump, like the roar of an avalanche, the ground disappeared, giving way to the pillar of pale green flame that had appeared in it's stead. It's blazing coruscation shot heavenwards, reducing the daemons caught in the inferno to nothing but ashen dust. It was all Shining Armor could do try and shield his face with his arms. The reek of overly heated flesh and smoldering fur attacked his nose and he realized with horror that, even though he was not close to the inferno, the sheer insane heat was enough to start cooking him from the inside out. Before he could think another moment, the blaze subsided. He opened eyes that felt much to dry and coughed, choking on the smoke and reek of ozone that permeated the air. Fortunately for him, he had been far enough to suffer only extreme discomfort and a few minor burns. A stark contrast with those unfortunate enough to have been at the heart of the inferno. A pack of almost two dozen daemons had been reduced to ashes within mere moments. Where before the breach had previously stood, now there lay an enormous hole, it's inner walls still smoldering and running with molten stone. Suddenly understanding made it's way through his endorphin addled brain and he understood. Almost two dozen daemons had died and the flaming pillar had struck the breach at precisely the right moment to close it off to any other attackers. Not a single pony had been caught in the blaze, even if some had been close and now bore the same minor burns Shining had. This had not been a coincidence, some unknown type of daemonic artillery or a spell gone wrong in the chaos of battle. This had been a concentrated, deliberate attack. As if to answer his question a rhythmic sound came from the depths of the newly formed hole. A sound like pickaxes striking deep into wet granite grew ever closer. Shining could see in his mind's eye gauntleted fingers finding purchase in raw stone as it climbed from the Stygian depths. He rose from the ground and grabbed hold of his sword once more, the freshly reddened skin of his forearms flaking and cracking as he squeezed the grip of the sword until his knuckles whitened. A hand encased in midnight black armor, large enough to fully engulf a pony's head and almost the entirety of a pony's back, struck the edge of the hole, piercing the granite that lay beneath molten stone. Behind it came an enormous green maned head, atop monstrously wide shoulders. Like a leviathan rising from the sea, the giant creature rose from the smoldering crevice, his armored form bloated with barely restrained power, his gaze, steel and doom. Her chest heaved and back arched as she struggled to contain and direct the flow of magical energies. Sweat cascaded off her brow and nose with the mental strain it took to erase each memory one by one. It should not have been this hard, Celestia thought to herself, the Mandala should have done most of the work for them. But here she, Luna and Cadence were, struggling to erase memories that refused to be let go. In the center of the painted star five of the six girls struggled against the spell's pull, their bodies shaking violently, their teeth gritted in effort against the magic trying to take precious memories away. Each and every one of them grunted as they desperately tried to remember, to keep their metaphorical eyes upon the mental form of the gigantic Draka. But it was hard, the outline had begun growing unclear and gradually, to their horror, the girls had found they were having difficulty in recalling his face, his eyes, his voice. Rainbow Dash screamed as she realized this. What would happen if they forgot him? If they forgot his sacrifice? The princesses had said he had asked for this but why? Had he really thought they would be happier not remembering him? She mentally screamed once more as the sound of Spike deep baritone was erased from her mind, torn away like a rodent by the talons of a falcon. No. This was not right. They had to remember. They could not let it end like this. For every memory the Mandala took, two more took it's place but they still fell nonetheless. No matter how much they squirmed and struggled, the Mandala would devour their memories like a ravenous wolf, leaving naught but emptiness behind. Tears burgeoned at the edge of her eyes as her strength began to wane and waver. It was the end. Blazing coruscation like the eruption of a volcano came in the form of a purple light, warm upon the skin and devastation to the darkness around them. The braziers sputtered and died as if their flame was unraveled by the hand if an Ifrit. Celestia staggered and drew back, amazed as she felt the spell being unraveled down to it's most basic components and dismantled as one would dismantle a piece of cloth, thread by thread. Never in her life had she seen such masterful dispelling. This was not an amateur fighting against the pull of magic, it was a savant, juggling the raw aether with the ease of drawing a breath. She opened a timid eye, squinting against the pressure of the counter spell, only to stop flabbergasted as she witnessed the form of her beloved former student, encased in a corona of raw, unyielding power. Twilight's eyes blazed with aethyric energies and the chalked star around her disintegrated, the many runes and sigils wrapped in the complicated invocation, layer upon layer of complex magical simulacra, disassembled as if by the hand of a magister of legend. With a loud crump, the spell finally collapsed in on itself, deprived as it was of it's structural balance and, like lost souls finding their bodies once more, the wisps of memories charged back and into the girls from which they had been taken. Celestia stood, dumbfounded as she watched the levitating alicorn, her witchsight blinded by the radiant power that swirled around Twilight Sparkle, her body frozen in awe at the sheer energies swirling around her former student. "...Sister..." she heard Luna shriek and, with a grunt, fell to the ground, bored to the cold stone by Luna's shoulder as she was tackled. No sooner did she fall that the energies around Twilight expanded like a broken dam, letting loose a torrent of raw power that ripped away at the last remnants of the Mandala of Forsaken Memories. Her world reduced to nothing more substantial than a blur, all sound coagulating into a single high pitched sound, Celestia rose to her feet, unsteady and shaking, a white furred hand against her breast, struggling to breathe despite the residual magic of the spell's backlash. She could feel rather than see her sister and Cadence in the same situation as she herself was, but could spare not even a glance towards them. Instead she could only look forward where the six girls stood, reunited once again, the Elements of Harmony. The raw power of Harmony once again blazed around them as it had so many times before the invasion, before the corruption, with Twilight as both it's focal point and catalyst. There was no trace of the wear and tear of the past few, horrible days. Their pelts shined, their manes flowed and their bruises healed as the purifying magic of Harmony flowed through the Elements, caressing them with it's gentle touch. Celestia looked up and met the eyes of her most faithful student. The lavender orbs shone not with anger or hatred as she had expected, but sadness. "He asked you to do this?" she began as Celestia looked to the ground in shame. "Yes... He did not want you to suffer any more than you had... He did... He did not... want you to cry for him... anymore". Twilight sat for a few more seconds, in complete silence, only the hum of residual magic in the rotonda witness to the quiet. A few small chuckles came, mirthless and interrupted by the hiccups that only crying can bring. The three alicorn princesses and five of the Elements looked to Twilight only to see her in a confusing display of laughing and crying. She smiled wide even as tear cascaded down her cheeks and nose. "Spike... sniff*sniff... you always were... too kind... for your own good... always... too concerned with making sure we were safe and happy...". Celestia bit her lip, unable and unwilling to speak. Twilight had to mourn. For whatever time they all had left, it would be better if she was allowedbto mourn her little brother. "WHAT ABOUT YOU..." the lavender alicorn screamed and fell to her knees, her face in the palm of her hands " when is it your turn to be happy?". The five friends huddled near Twilight, letting the poor girl cry on their shoulder. It would be okay. Even though Rainbow had said that they had to be strong and honor Spike's sacrifice, it would be okay to cry. If only for a little bit. If only to cement the memory of Spike in their hearts and minds. In order to properly honor him. It lasted for a few minutes, the accursed library seeming to brighten, if only slightly by way of the sound of emotion being expressed. Drawing a few shuddering breaths, Twilight rose from the ground and the embrace of her friends, puffy-eyed and still slightly hiccuping with restrained tears, but determined nonetheless. "Alright..." she gasped, more to herself than anyone else "i may have been out of it but I've seen and heard enough to know that the Empire is under attack and that... Thing... that killed my little Spike is outside, searching for the Gate". Cadence shook her head. "It's not searching. I think it knows where the gate is. The damned freak is just biding it's time, waiting for the right moment to open it. The monster's killing my subjects just for the fun of it" she spat the last few words with such hate and vitriol it seemed out of place for the usually calm princess. "We've tried destroying the gate many times before to avoid just such a situation but it is indestructible. It's locked beneath the Imperial Dungeon, burried under twenty feet of granite, enforced with rune-spells of protection and anti-detection. Normally, i would have said it is impossible to find but considering that it managed to take Spike down, i won't put anything past Kilmaiil's capabilities." Twilight nodded her understanding and turned. Enough time had been wasted on talking. There was a war unfolding beyond the walls of their sanctuary and it was time for those in whom the ponies placed their faith to make their presence known. Before she could take even a step however, a shaking, white furred hand placed itself on her shoulder. Twilight turned and met with the shame filled face of Celestia. "Please... before we go... you need to under... understand... why I tried...t-to...". Before she could explain herself, Celestia fell silent as the student embraced the teacher. "There's nothing to explain... or forgive, Princess" began Twilight, her chin resting on the narrow, pearly-white furred shoulder of Celestia. "You wanted to grant Spike's last wish. i can't fault you for that". She drew back and came eye to eye with her former teacher. "But i can't allow it either. I can not, will not, forget Spike, even if that's what he would've wanted. I want to fight. I want to stand before the darkness... and go down singing, if it comes to it... just like he did". Celestia looked flabbergasted for a few more seconds then slowly drew her hand to her quivering lower lip. She had never been as proud of her student as she was this day. The princess of the Sun, Moon and Love all rose before the Elements as power coarsed around them as determination shone in their eyes. "We go then" Celestia declared. It was slow, barely noticeable, at first. No more than five or six, then ten, then a hundred, then even more, but soon it became clear and obvious as the civilian packed rooms of the Light Embraced Palace began to empty. As the aura of despair and tumultum of fear was replaced with burgeoning hope and cries for vengeance. No one could explain what it was. Was it the despaired ferocity that would force a cornered mouse to jump at the jugular of a linx? Was it the way the Princesses and the Elements walked, purpose and determination as palpable as the power exuding from them. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that loved ones were dying beyond the walls, giving everything to buy them a few scant more minutes of life. No, no one could have explained the reason as to why when the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony reached the Entrance Hall, in front of the main gates of the palace, a virtual armada had formed behind them. Civilians and refugees armed with tiles of marble stripped from the halls of the palace, legs of chairs and table, brooms with the handles sharpened to spears, gardening ustensils ready to cut into flesh instead of grass and leaves, stones, boulders and broken parts of stone statuettes. Stallions and mares stood ready to go outside the walls and fight alongside their husbands and wives, elders ready to fight and die alongside their sons and daughters, children ready to aid their parents as best they could. The armies were dying out there, in the name of love and survival, not their own but for those they named friend and family. It had cone time for the civilians to prove worthy of that sacrifice. Celestia looked behind her, heart swollen with pride for her little ponies. She did not waste her breath trying to convince them to return, to stay behind the safety of the walls, for they would not have listened anyway. Instead she took heart from their bravery and silently thanked them inside "This will be the final battle. With luck, I may have the chance to launch a Sunlight Spear straight into that smug "god's" face. I'd die happy if I'd get that chance" she thought grimly to herself as her horn began to glow and the grand doors began to open. "Chaaarge" Celestia bellowed and her warcry was taken by all those present, adrenaline and anger as infectious as a plague. Ponies surged with the Princesses and the Elements at the forefront, only to stop fifteen paces out, stunned by the image before them. The ponies of the Equestrian and Crystal armies fought with berserk ferocity and mad bravery, breaking spines with shield, cracking daemonic heads with helmets, throttling them to death even as thousands of changelings of various shapes and sizes buzzed in and out of the fray like dark storms, their claws, hooked blades and spears reaped lives through the daemonic ranks. Pony and changeling fought side by side, their usual animosity forgotten before the threat of Ginun, united in the furnace of war. Close to the middle, Chrysallis bellowed, her wickedly curved, chitinous scythe, slicing heads with each heavy motion, avenging her fallen children with every swing. To either side of her, two other changeling queen fought, one bearing the muscled physique of an amazoness, a scimitar in each of her six arms, a predatory, archnoidal smile emblazoned on her face, the second, a pale skinned beauty, with hair that flowed incessantly and lithe body that belied her monstrous strength as she pulled on the greatbow in her hands with terrifying ease, sending ballistae sized bolts into daemonic flesh. But few saw the savage bravery of ponies and changelings, few saw the power and skill of the three Changeling Queens. Most stood transfixed, particularly the Princesses and the Elements at the sight of a monumental, bandage covered back. The titanic body, so bloated with muscle it was obvious even beneath the bandages, the arms, like elder tree trunks, swinging with barely restrained power, the eye, a green orb that shone like steel and promised only doom. It was the form that inspired allies to fight like the possessed and gave enemies the taste of the grave. It was within that form that they saw a bastion, a mountain, ever enduring, never to fall, never to surrender. Like an revenant rising from the grave, there he stood, as he always did, as they had come to expect of him, not even death able to keep him from honoring his oath of always protecting them. With a monumental howl, a twenty foot tall abyss-corrupted Minotaur, a daemonic elite most likely, a zhanmadao in one hand, a claymore in the other, charged the bandage-covered leviathan, bellowing the name of the Abyssal Gods only to fall, a single backhand ripping the bull head clean off it's shoulders. The leviathan bent down and retrieved the two weapons, adding the zhanmadao to his sash while hewing a monstrous harvest with the claymore. Tears of joy fell down their faces and Twilight shouted the name of her brother, a wide smile adorning her face, no trace of sadness left in her eyes. Her shout was taken by all those present, changeling and pony, soldier and civilian, young and old, all shouted the name of their savior. The Mountain Father. The Darraor of the Legion of the Damned. The Undying Draka. Spike. Above all, a deep baritone shook the battlefield as Spike threw his head to the sky and let loose an ululating bellow. "STAND. FOR EQUESTRIA. FOR THE EMPIRE. FOR THE WORLD. YOU SHALL STAND".