Innocent

by Puzzle Piece

Act II: Chapter Thirteen: On the Dark Horizon

The ponies traveled north from Ponyville at a forced pace. There were twenty recruits in all. Some recognized each other from around town but most were not formally acquainted. They didn’t try to break the ice either since the mood didn’t encourage conversation; they had left their words with their families. The black-coated Earth Pony Sergeant that led them, who had introduced himself as Obsidian Blitz before they’d set out, had a grim face and a stern gaze that seemed to accuse everything they looked upon of dire insult.

Then there were the three ponies who trailed behind. They acted like they were part of the group but kept a distance that suggested otherwise. They wore their armor and weapons with familiarity and confidence and spent their time closely observing the other recruits. The ponies marched along in silence, uneasily under the scrutiny.

The moment Ponyville was out of sight, it felt as if it were a world away. Some of the ponies had never been this far from home. It staggered some of them to see the world stretch away from the top of each hill. Although it was not actually a very far distance, the atmosphere of their travel made it seem to take an eternity to reach their destination.

“The Camp” had been a foreign place when it had been just a vague idea in their minds. Now that they were there, it took shape and form. The camp lay in the lee of a small mountain, just between the foothills and the adjacent woodland. Tents stood in rows, neat and orderly, along the patches of level ground across the hillside. In the more open places, just before the tree line, were fields obviously staged for training exercises.

There was movement everywhere. Ponies drilled in the fields and walked among the tents. Shouts and the ring of weapons on the wheel could be heard above the dull bustle. The Sergeant led them straight through to a parade ground at the center of the camp. A Pegasus from the Wonderbolts, now wearing a set of lightweight armor in the style of the Wonderbolt uniform, was waiting for them. He separated out the Air Corp recruits and led them to a separate camp higher up on the mountain.

Sergeant Blitz ordered the remaining recruits to line up and they quickly complied. He noticed the three stragglers hanging off to the side and approached them. After he’d barked at them for not lining up, one of them proceeded to respond in a voice too soft for the others to overhear but was obviously dealing a stinging rebuke.

The Sergeant retreated with poorly concealed chagrin. However, he was back in command shortly, informing the recruits in a harsh shout exactly what they had signed on for. Through the ringing in their ears, they were told what would be expected of them and what each of them could expect over the next few days.

They were soldiers, they were told. And as soldiers, they would be expected to give everything they had, not just for the Princesses or even for their families and friends, but for everypony in Equestria. Their time in camp would give them the skills to defend and serve. Their effort would determine their success.

Sergeant Blitz continued on to outline their daily schedule of weapons training and field drills as well as a regiment of conditioning exercises. The moment he finished with those formalities, he was shouting them into action. He drove them into an agility course and didn’t hesitate to berate their skills. Most of the ponies floundered under the pace and pressure.

Big Mac impressed those who knew him and surprised those who didn’t. Despite his bulky physique, he managed to keep up with the more lithe ponies as they wove through pylons and jumped hurdles. Other less fit ponies fell behind him and watched as he completed the course’s best without breaking a sweat.

Jason, Cor and Zacon hung back, discussing how to proceed.

“It’s just basic training,” Jason pointed out.

“But it’s for these bodies,” Cor reminded him. “And I’m still not entirely used to it.”

“So get going.” Jason gestured at the course. He sat down as if to watch.

“What do you mean ‘get going’? You two are coming with me if I’m going out there.”

“Is that an order?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is. Now let’s move. Both of you.” Cor glared at Zacon, who was barely paying attention.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Zacon grunted.

“You know what I mean!” Cor said, jabbing him with a hoof.

“Are you insisting that I make you look bad when you fall on your face?”

“You can try,” Cor grinned, trying to make it a challenge.

Evidently it worked. Zacon set his axe aside and approached the course. Jason got up and followed them reluctantly. Despite his banter, Zacon became frustrated shortly after beginning. His build favored power over agility and he crashed from obstacle to obstacle like a pinball in slow motion. He progressed faster than Cor by sheer force of muscle but both appeared laughably clumsy.

Jason was hardly attempting to complete the course. Instead, he was carefully navigating each section and closely examining it before moving on. Cor took his stumbling stoically, having gone in expecting failure.

The Sergeant sauntered over and casually observed that the recruits had already moved to a field exercise. If the three of them were having too much trouble with the agility course, they were welcome to join them in the other drills. He left laughing and Zacon filled his departure with a string of venomous curses.

Jason kept at his slow plodding pace as he experimented with the limits of his body’s ability in a vaguely amused manner. Having been greatly discouraged, Cor and Zacon left to watch the others train. Both refused to admit they had given up on the agility course but neither would risk further humiliation by continuing.

They seated themselves at the edge of the field and silently observed.

~*~*~

The ponies stood together on the field with their new equipment and awaited the start of the drills. Harnesses for spears and shields had been passed out and donned. Lyra held the spear in her telekinetic grip and turned it over experimentally. She’d never held a weapon before, bread knives not included. It was no mystery how it worked, but she still eyed it like an alien artifact. Perhaps it was her habit of ignoring voices of criticism, but she didn’t realize the Sergeant was yelling at her until he came right up in her face.

“Get in line instead of standing there like a rotted log!”

Lyra quickly sidestepped over to the others where they waited while her heart skipped a beat in embarrassment. She hadn’t been made a fool of in a long time. Worse, she hadn’t felt that she’d been in the wrong in a long time. The Sergeant plowed ahead, addressing the group while pacing up and down their line.

“Those Unicorns here can do their magic bit to twirl their weapons but you Earth Ponies listen up. Your armor has mounts to hold your weapons in place so your hooves can concentrate on getting you around the field. You’ll need to learn how to make use of them if you intend to do any good out there.”

It took them half an hour to make sure they all knew how to draw and mount their weapons properly. Many dropped them repeatedly before getting it right. With a short drill of drawing, sheathing, drawing, mounting, dismounting, and sheathing again, they finally were able to keep a hold of their equipment.

He led them through thrusts with a mounted spear and charges as a large group. They ran the length of the field dozens of times before moving to the next exercise: Swords. A line of magically molded clay figures that vaguely resembled some sort of animal were their targets. The Sergeant walked up and down the line as they hacked at them and barked corrections to their form and stance.

As the recruits worked, bits of clay flew off of the figures and magically regenerated. Lyra was mesmerized by it as she would chop away at it only for her progress to vanish a moment later. It created a sense of futility and she became frustrated rapidly. She attacked haphazardly and became exhausted in minutes while ineffectually striking the target with poorly aimed swings. Despite this, she pushed on with maddened determination. When the Sergeant passed her, he paused to watch and then walked on without a word.

Big Mac was turning heads with his powerful strokes that left chucks of clay around his hooves. His coat glistened with sweat just like every other pony around him but he was not showing the same signs of fatigue. His breathing was even and deep and his motion was smooth. Others were panting and haggard and swung with jerky movements.

The training was wearing them down, just as it should. Sergeant Blitz was silently pleased with their effort. He was not the only one. From across the field, Cor and Zacon deliberated in hushed tones the worth of what they saw.

~*~*~

The late afternoon turned rapidly to dusk under the haze of hard training. Most of the recruits could hardly stand when their Sergeant released them for the day. They trudged, and in some cases hobbled, over to the mess tent. Rations were dealt out mechanically by a team of stallions who looked as tired as the others felt: A bowl of thick vegetable soup with a half loaf of bread and a mug of water. Upwards of a hundred ponies passed through the mess tent before spreading out across the camp.

Lyra and Big Mac stood side by side trying to decide where to go. They stuck together because they had been next to each other all day and the familiarity was a small comfort to them. Camp fires sprang up as darkness fell with ponies congregating around them in clique-like groups. Another pony who’d signed on with them approached.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Lyra said. “There’s not much to exclude you from in any case.” She looked around again, still unsure where they belonged.

Big Mac started walking and they followed him automatically. It felt better to be moving. It gave the illusion of purpose. They’d passed a fair number of fires before one group called out and waved them over. The voice was warm and welcoming and they gratefully joined the circle of half a dozen ponies.

“You’re from around Ponyville?” their host inquired in greeting. The Earth Pony’s coat was cream and even in the failing light his sky blue mane, which matched his eyes, was so light it seemed to glow. He was a slighter pony but he seemed comfortable in himself.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said.

“I thought I recognized you,” he nodded. He gestured to his companions around the fire. “We’re all Ponyville here. What say we get better acquainted? My name is Goldengrape.”

“It’s a pleasure, Goldengrape,” the stallion who’d tagged along with them spoke up. “I’m Time Turner.”

“I’ve heard of you,” one of the ponies around the fire observed. “Aren’t you also known as Doctor Whooves?”

“Hehe, yep.”

“Any particular reason?”

He grew solemn. “Do you know Ditzy Doo? Well, Ditzy and I…it’s a bit complicated.”

“Why ‘Doctor’ though?”

Turner sighed. “Some ponies think of Ditzy like she’s sick or damaged. They say I’m a doctor because they look at me like I’m treating her. I didn’t coin the phrase.”

“Sorry. I won’t call you that if it bothers you.”

“No no. Not at all. I’m quite used to it. It’s a funny little name really.”

“And how about you?” Goldengrape asked Big Mac.

“My name is Big Macintosh but most everypony calls me Big Mac.”

“From Sweet Apple Acres?” a thickly built pony asked. He was grey-coated with a darker grey mane and his voice was deeper than Big Mac’s.

Big Mac nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you pulling those heavy carts through town.” He looked Big Mac over critically. “If I were a betting pony, I’d say you’ll put us all to shame when it comes to fighting.”

Big Mac shrugged modestly. Eyes turned to Lyra. She could see the change on their faces when they looked at her closely for the first time. She cleared her throat and spoke with as much confidence as she could muster.

“My name is Lyra Heartstrings.”

She addressed the campfire to avoid prompting any particular pony to respond by making eye contact. The fire responded by spitting a shower of sparks as a log snapped and fell onto the coals. It was the only sound for several seconds.

I hadn’t expected it to be this bad, she thought.

She didn’t look up as she heard them shift and fidget. Most of them seemed to find their current seats suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well,” one pony began, breaking the brittle silence. “Not too many mares in the ranks, eh?”

She glanced up at his voice and saw him looking around at his fellows for approval. There were nods and grunts of agreement but nothing more substantial. Lyra frowned, reading their looks, both at her and each other. She found signs of doubt and hints of disapproval. Whether what she saw was real or merely conjured up by her previous struggles never occurred to her. Several sharp rebukes were forming on her lips when Big Mac spoke.

“My sister Applejack would have been here but she had to stay and keep the farm runnin’.”

“Aye,” another stallion with an orange mane and tan coat said. “And that lass, Rainbow Dash was her name I think, she was among the first of the volunteers. With the Air Corps if I’m rememberin’ correctly.” His tweed cap turned this way and that to see nods of agreement from all around.

Lyra held her breath but the conversation turned away from her as the others introduced themselves and the meal was finished. She listened in but drifted somewhere outside of the group. As the night deepened, a few broke away and took to their tents. Lyra found herself sitting next to Time Turner. She let silence reign while she debated certain possibilities. When she’d found her mental footing, she turned to him.

“You said something about a complicated situation earlier?”

“What?” he said, sounding startled. He’d been staring at the fire with an intensity that usually accompanied deep thought.

“It’s just you mentioned things between you and Ditzy were complicated. Would you mind if I ask how?”

“I suppose I don’t mind.” He went back to gazing into the fire. “I’m just tired of the way she’s treated. You know her reputation as a bit clumsy?”

Lyra nodded slowly. “From what I’ve heard, it’s more than a bit.”

“That’s just what I mean.” He shook his head. “It isn’t as if she drops everything she holds, but that’s precisely what ponies expect of her. I’ve lived with her…”

He cleared his throat self-consciously behind his hoof and glanced at her to see her reaction. She hadn’t even blinked but continued to watch him expectantly. He paused for a second longer.

“I’ve lived with her for nearly two years now. So I think I know her better than just about any pony in town. She’s not clumsy. Not really. There are times that she makes a mistake or loses her balance, but I’m convinced ponies think so poorly of her because those are the only times they pay attention to her.” He frowned. “That’s the problem with ponies sometimes. They make a judgment based on the events that catch their attention but ignore the rest of the time. It doesn’t seem to matter what they’re really like, who they really are. Only what stands out as odd.”

He looked directly at her as he finished speaking, expecting to find one of the expressions he usually found. Instead, Lyra was no longer looking back. She was fighting tears and a bitter frown. Turner was silenced by curiosity.

“I’m sorry,” Lyra said when she realized he was staring at her. “But I know exactly what you mean. Back in town, I’m not exactly the star citizen in the eyes of my neighbors. All because of the pony I love. They don’t care that we’re happy together. It doesn’t matter to them that we aren’t hurting anypony just by being together!”

They shared a reflective quiet while she wiped her eyes.

“What you’re doing for her, for Ditzy? It’s really brave. I know what it’s like to go against the grain. Standing by her so she doesn’t have to go it alone is the most admirable thing I’ve seen a pony do.”

His brows creased. “That means a lot. But still, I’ve been thinking and I’m wondering if it was right to come here. I know that the Army needs ponies willing to fight but I can’t help thinking I’ve abandoned her.”

“It was the right thing to do. She’ll understand that you needed to do this.” She managed to smile reassuringly.

Turner took a deep breath. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He looked around to find they were nearly alone at the dying fire. “I’ll turn in for the night if that’s alright.”

“Of course.”

As he walked away, Lyra saw Big Mac making his own way toward a tent. She decided she might as well keep up her search for answers. Catching up just as he was dropping his bags under the canvas covers, she got his attention.

“Big Mac?”

He turned and regarded her quizzically.

“I have to ask,” she said, glancing around to be sure nopony was close enough to overhear. “That comment back there, about your sister?”

She left the question hanging, hoping he would take his meaning. The way he nodded, she got the impression he’d been waiting for her to ask.

“I could see that you felt singled out, bein’ the only mare here. It looked to be botherin’ you enough you might get defensive. That leads to arguments.”

Lyra leaned in, begging for him to continue. He nodded again, seeming to understand easily.

“I mentioned my sister so they’d have to contend with us both if they had a problem with mares in the Army. They’d be less likely to make a fuss about it that way.”

Lyra blinked. She felt a pang of shame for such an honest and thoughtful answer not to have occurred to her.

“I…that’s…” she faltered. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since somepony has stuck up for me. I’ve had to fight my own battles for years.”

“We’re all gonna be fighting battles side by side in the near future,” Big Mac replied ominously. “We might as well start by being on each others’ side when we do.”

She smiled and nodded. He excused himself and she went in search of her own tent, which had been assigned to her when she’d received her meal. Each one had a number printed on its side. Hers was 97. She found it high on the hillside looking down over most of the camp. Like all the rest, it was just big enough for her to lie down in.

She rolled into the blanket on the tough pad that she found inside. It had been a long day but she had hardly realized how tired she was until she was lying down. So many thoughts were trying to run through her mind that she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep. No sooner had she made that prediction that she drifted off into dreamless rest.

~*~*~

Ponies fought and fell around her but Celestia did nothing. It was as if she were frozen, unable to act. In horror, she watched as Trolls pushed in and ponies fell under them. Blades flashed and blood flew, each second captured clear as crystal and thrust before her eyes. Brave and loyal to the end, her Royal Guard thinned until only Shining Armor stood beside her. His blade swept right and left and cleared the enemy away, warding her from harm. But in only moments they were back and he had to swing again just to find room to breathe.

She fought against her panic, thinking that was what held her in place. But the harder she willed herself to move, the tighter her muscles felt. Shining Armor turned to her desperately, his strength failing as the battle wore on.

“Your Highness! What are we to do? We can’t win!”

Celestia tried to tell him to run, to save himself, but she found that she couldn’t even open her mouth to speak. Shining had turned his back on the Trolls and they rose up in a wave behind him, weapons raised to strike him down. She called out in the frantic silence of her mind to warn him but no sound escaped her lips. Shining repeated his plea for orders and his words echoed in her ears, mocking her inability to act. The Trolls came down on him and dragged him from view. Celestia tried to scream but her throat strangled the sound before she could get it out.

Princess Celestia stood in the middle of her fallen army, ringed in by a sea of Trolls who leered at her and growled dark threats to the remainder of her subjects. They told her of the suffering she had failed to stop and the death she could not escape. They closed in and buried her with sheer numbers until everything went black.

Then, out of that blackness, a face rose. A pony’s face. He whispered to her and she struggled to hear. She blinked and the face was Shining Armor’s…except he was bloodied and torn. Flesh had been stripped away by blades and crushed by fists and hammers. His bright eyes, where she had always found resolve, were empty of everything but blame.

“You led us and we followed you. We trusted you. You brought us here to die. How could you Celestia? How could you betray us like this?” His lips moved but the voice came from inside her own head.

“No!” she tried to scream, to do anything, but his whispers cut apart her protests as if she were nothing more than a breeze in the face of a hurricane.

“It was you. All because of you. Tell my parents, you killed us.”

Celestia closed her eyes, the first thing she’d been able to do since this began.

“Sister.”

Celestia opened her eyes at Luna’s voice. Princess Luna stood where Shining Armor’s head had been.

“Wake up, dear sister. You must not let these thoughts plague you. End it now!”

Celestia jolted upright and threw the blanket from her sweat-soaked body. She stood panting as the last of the episode faded into the back of her mind. She flexed a wing experimentally to reassure herself that it had truly ended. It had been a dream: A dire reenactment of her worst fears. The battle was a day behind them and they were nearing Canterlot. Their retreat was a somber one and they were all wearied.

The light of a single candle burned on the table on the far side of the tent. Her bed cushion was askew from her abrupt awakening. The tent flap was still closed and the guard outside had not been alerted to her distress. She slowly scanned the room for any trace of the specters that hung in her mind. She only saw one thing that was out of place but it brought a smile to her lips.

“I would have come sooner but there have been many nightmares to quell.” Luna stood on the other side of the tent. She looked as weary as Celestia felt.

“Dear sister,” Celestia said softly, nuzzling her. “This is all so horrible. So many lost so quickly and so much still in danger. I cannot face this alone.”

“You do not face this alone. We are together in this and together we are strong. We will overcome them.”

Luna spoke with that same tone of confidence and determination that Celestia had always relied on. Her sister was a wall of confidence once her mind was made up. She let her faith lean against it for a much needed rest.

“Now tell me sister, what has happened in the battle. I’ve had no time to learn of it yet.”

Celestia very nearly told her not to ask just now. But she knew that she needed to spread the news, so she approached the table that contained some hastily drawn maps of their position as well as rosters and supply lists.

“We met them on the edge of the Greenspring Glades. They didn’t even give me an audience to discuss peace. The battle began well but we were surrounded and forced to retreat. I blinded and deafened the enemy so that we could make our escape. We were forced to leave the dead. Our scouts say they’ve given no pursuit but I know that will not last long.”

“This offensive was meant to be a delaying action only and our plan was to return to Canterlot and march again with the Army. Now, I shudder at the thought. We lost one hundred fifty Guards. I should count myself lucky to grieve so few given the number we faced, especially with the number we vanquished. But I cannot do that. And their families…”

“Did they fight well?” Luna interrupted. “Were they brave to the last?”

“Yes, but…”

“Did the plan work? You said the enemy does not yet advance. Was this not the goal?”

“It was.”

“Are your troops not more heartened by this victory than they suffer their losses?”

“I…don’t know,” Celestia admitted. “I haven’t been able to see through my own shock yet.”

“Hmm.” Luna eyed her critically. “That is important, sister. You must keep their spirits up. If this is a victory as you have indicated, you must let them know it. Don’t allow them to dwell on loss when their sacrifice has not been in vain, in fact, has done everything we hoped it would. Perhaps with their minds on the success of their mission, I will not need to fight so much despair, yours included.”

She turned to leave. Her mane wrapped her in diamond encrusted mist and her eyes cast the luminescence of the moon on the canvas walls of the tent. “I have many ponies to assist still before morning. I will be back again, sister. Hold fast.”

With a flash, she was gone. Celestia considered lying back down again but knew she would find no more rest that night. She went back to the table and stared at the documents without seeing them. Luna had told her to remember the victories of yesterday. But it was still small comfort to her in light of the lives lost to achieve them. She heard the wisdom of her words however, and agreed that her ponies needed to think of this as good. She would pretend for them if she must.

Therefore, she spent the rest of the night seeing the faces of the ponies lost in battle. She heard their voices in the hallowed silence of her mind. She whispered their names as she said goodbye to each one. As the hours passed, the weight in her heart lifted marginally and when she felt it was time to raise the sun, she also felt she had come to terms with her grief enough to smile again.

She stepped outside and turned to the east. As she reached out to the sun with her magic, connected to it as intimately as another limb, she was soothed by the routine. It was a comfortable, familiar exercise and she lost herself in it this morning. All of her sadness and pain as well as the sense of calm that had come over her flowed through her and into the sunrise.

When she opened her eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. The light touched everything with a feather’s softness. At first, the sun seemed smaller as it came up from behind the mountains but it was really the world that seemed bigger. Color bloomed like a sudden spring after a barren winter. Sounds started soft and distant as the first of the day’s birds took to the air. Her country came awake and she felt a part of it more deeply than she usually did. The blood spilt for all she held dear made it that much more valuable.

Her ear twitched when a sound closer to her intruded on her serenity.

“Your Highness?” Shining Armor announced himself as he approached, his helmet held at his side. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No,” she replied slowly, tucking the last of her morning’s sanctuary into her heart.

He hesitated as if he knew that he had interrupted, despite her response to the contrary. “I needed to ask about something on a personal matter and I feel it can’t wait.”

“Of course. Go ahead.” Celestia turned to give him her full attention.

“I’ve been thinking about how fast this is all happening. We went off to battle without so much as a day to pack. It’s too rushed.”

“You wish you had more time,” Celestia nodded in understanding. “We all wish there had been more time. But then, we also wish this had never begun at all.”

Shining let his shoulders slump tiredly. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just that some time would have been better than none. I can’t stop thinking about the last words we had together and what it would mean to never come back. To have those be the last we saw of each other.”

“I’m sure your parents know that you had no choice,” Celestia assured him softly. “We had to leave as swiftly as possible or you would have taken more time to speak with them.”

“It isn’t what I said to my parents. We talked about me leaving long enough to resolve all of that. Besides, they’ve always understood what being in the Guard meant.” He scuffed the ground with a hoof and looked away despondently. “No, it’s Cadence. Last time I saw her, when we said goodbye, we hardly spoke. I was late for the train and I rushed out.” He lowered his voice sorrowfully. “I gave her a peck on the cheek and galloped off. I don’t even remember the words she said to me.”

Now Celestia knew what had been bothering him on the eve of the battle. She had been wrong about the cause but more or less correct about the effect it was having on him.

“There was no way to foresee this happening. I suppose the lesson here is to treat every moment with those we love as the most important one of our lives. It may just be our last. But I do not believe it was your last. She knows how strong you are and you know how strong she is in turn. When you see her again, it will be the more joyful for having been separated so.”

Shining still looked a bit doubtful. So she bent close and spoke softly near his ear.

“Take it from somepony who knows from experience. My last words with my sister before her banishment still leave a bitter taste in my mouth. But the day of her return was one of the happiest of my life. There will be time to make amends for our absences after we have made our homes safe.”

Shining looked at the ground thoughtfully. Celestia gave him a moment before turning to the business at hoof.

“I need your opinion of our morale.”

“You mean the Guard?” Shining asked, putting his own troubles aside. “They’ve been taking it well enough. We’re all still with you if that’s what you mean.”

“Not quite. I want to know if they feel they’ve succeeded. We’ve paid a dear price for what I must see as a victory. As you know, we never intended to defeat the Trolls in this one battle. And given the odds against us, we were most successful in our goal of slowing them. I want you to make a point of expressing that to the rest of the troops. They need to take heart in our victory instead of dwell on our losses.”

“I’ll be sure to set that tone, your Highness.”

They stood together overlooking the country. The tops of the tallest spires in Canterlot were just visible as the sun rose over the mountains to light them with the fire of morning. They both watched as the towers came into the light as minutes passed. Sparkling windows among the gold and white walls from this distance gave the illusion of enchantment.

Like shattering glass, a Guard raced toward them, saluted the Captain, bowed to the Princess, and gave his report without pause.

“Our long-range scouts have returned. Three more enemy hordes have been spotted. All are of nearly equal size to the first and underway at a forced march.”

“Wh-where?” Celestia’s voice faltered with the suddenness of the news.

“One is moving through western Equestria in a southward direction. One is coming close behind the force we’ve just faced and looks to reinforce them. The other is making directly for the Crystal Empire.”

Shining’s helmet fell to the ground beside him. He turned to Celestia with a look that needed no words.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Celestia nodded to Shining Armor reluctantly. “Yes, Shining. You must go and warn the Empire. Lead them in the defense of the north. And see to it that you spend some time alone with Cadence. I have a feeling this will be a longer road to peace than we thought.”

Shining’s face was set in granite as he put his helmet on and called out to several officers. He descended back into the camp and gave orders to arrange the shift in command with his departure. Celestia fought back a wave of despair. She had thought the end was in sight, that with the army, she would be able to push the enemy out of Equestria. Now it seemed they were more hopelessly outmatched than she had feared.

So much for fortifying the troops’ spirits, she thought, looking back at her golden orb lifting clear of the far peaks. Its light did little to warm the chill that was passing through her.