Wind and Stone

by Ruirik

Komm Doch Heim

Rain sighed, letting the heat from the bath soak through her coat into her skin. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had the chance to savor a hot bath. It felt like an eternity since Nimbus. Slipping deeper into the water until only her face was exposed, Rain shivered. The feeling of heat eased the tension in the back of her skull.

She was sequestered away in a lavish room of the Imperial Palace. Discentus had sent for her to meet him there shortly after Pathfinder had led her party safely through the chasm. They had barely been recovering in Updraft for more than two days when the summons arrived.

Once she had seen that her troops had food, water, and places to rest, she left for Stratopolis. Pathfinder rode on her back the whole way, Summer, Haze, Thorn, and Carver following close behind. They flew through the night to get to the capital by first light.

Summer led the party through the packed streets of the capital to her Father’s office in the senate. He hadn’t been in, but had left instructions for them to be provided for at the Celsus family villa. Hence how Rain found herself lounging in an oversized bath where she could see Pathfinder in the next room. He was sleeping like a foal on a plush, oversized, cloud bed, the most relaxed she’d seen him yet.

A smile pulled at her lips for a moment, then faded. What was so important that Discentus had summoned her to the Capital?

“Rain? Rain?” Summer called to her from the other room.

Grunting at the interruption, Rain replied with a curt “What?”

Summer poked her head through the alcove and smirked. “Making yourself at home, I see?”

“Shh,” Rain held a feather to her lips, then pointed to Pathfinder.

“Ah,” Summer’s voice lowered, but only just. “Sorry to interrupt, but Father just sent a courier. He wants to see you at once in the Imperial Office.”

A cold knife stabbed at Rain’s heart. We're the rumors true? Was Haysar really dead? “What about? Is Haysar there?”

“I don’t know, Rain.”

“Great,” She growled, pulling herself out of the comforting bath and shaking the water from her coat. She grabbed a towel that was hanging on a stand, then sat in front of an open window. Rain opened her wings, letting the breeze and morning light. “I don’t know anything, Summer. You understand? Nopony has been able to tell me a Gods damned thing. I don’t know how many ponies were lost in that damned eruption, I don’t know what Gold Moon’s plan is, I don’t even know what our fallback plan is. I can’t fight a war blind!”

“Half-blind,” Summer teased, earning a snarl from Rain.

“Leave.”

“Easy, Rain, it’s just a joke,” Summer said, trying to placate the angry Nimban. “Anyway, I thought I’d put some fresh bandages on it before your meeting.”

“I don’t need any bandage,” Rain protested, rubbing the towel through her mane. “Air is good for a cut.”

“Rain, this isn’t Nimbus. You can’t go around Stratopolis with what’s left of your eye dripping down your cheek.” Summer’s face twisted a little. “Trust me, wounds are not attractive until they scar up.”

Bristling, Rain scoffed. Her tail flicked, sending droplets of water splashing against the wall. After a moment she calmed, and gave Summer a nod. Summer gave her a moment to calm before approaching. Under her wing she had a small leather satchel. She set it down between them, sat back on her haunches, and put a hoof on Rain’s forehead while the other gingerly held her left cheek.

Rain felt strange. Summer was in front of her, but where a few days earlier she could look the mare in the eyes, now she only could see her ear and jawline. Her left side was gone, the light forever lost. How would she fight now, she wondered. Why had she let her guard down at that last moment, allowed Magnus to maim her like that?

“Hold still,” Summer interrupted her thoughts. From her satchel she produces something Rain hadn’t seen in months: a clean rag. She doused the rag with vinegar and offered Rain and apologetic look. “This is gonna hurt. Want something to bite down on?”

“Just get it over with.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The vinegar soaked Rag pressed over her eye like cold fire. Rain ground her teeth together, let out a sharp hiss, but refused to scream. It was only physical pain, she reminded herself. In a few moments it would pass. Summer worked quickly, but diligently. Once she was satisfied the wound was cleaned she washed it with water, dried it, and carefully wrapped Rain’s eye in clean bandages.

Summer offered her a drink from her wine flask. “Need a bit?”

“I’m fine,” Rain said, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Nodding, Summer put her supplies away, leaving them on the night stand next to Pathfinder. She checked him over quickly, then left the villa with Rain in tow. Together they walked the choked streets of Stratopolis, often shoulder to shoulder with ponies neither knew.

Rain held her temper through the walk, despite the countless ponies she saw staring at her. The families of Stratopolis’ nobility, kept well safe from the horrors of the frontline, looking at her wrapped face in horror and revulsion. Gods she wished Summer hadn’t made her wear that damned bandage. Let them look at what was left of her face and see what real war looked like on the front lines.

They reached the Palace after a while, Summer talking them past the Praetorian Guards at the entrance. An old stallion with a barely audible voice shepherded them through the massive structure, through overly decorated halls painted garish shades or red and purple. They past more statues and frescos than Rain had seen in her life, most of which only amplified her mounting irritation.

In Nimbus she had known that such trappings were meaningless. All they served was to show the wealth or arrogance of their owners, impressing them with prizes that were not earned by blood and sweat. Nimbans had no need for such flash in their buildings. The scars they proudly wore on their bodies were all the possessions they required, and each bore a story worth telling.

They were led into an office that Rain soon realized was the Emperor's private study. Inside she found herself strongly resisting the urge to vomit. An ornately carved wooden desk was in the center of the room, the carvings inlaid with gold filigree. Luxurious purple drapes covered three walls, save for one which was left open to the sky. Rain had to concede it did offer a lovely view of Stratopolis.

Huddled near the desk were two ponies, Dicentus and a beige mare with a dirty brown mane. Discentus was in his senatorial garb: a robe of white with red striping down the chest. A black band was tied around his foreleg, symbolizing his mourning for Nimbus.

Rain stared at the mare for a few moments before she felt her black mood give way to excitement.

“Swift Spear?” Rain balked, stunned at the beige mare standing next to Discentus.

The mare stared at her for a moment, brows knitted in puzzlement before realization spread over her face. “Sidero!”

Rain and Swift closed the gap, pulling into a tight embrace, much to the confusion of Summer. They exchanged a kiss on the cheek, then parted with broad smiles.

“You are the only Cirran I’ll let call me that, Tachys.” Rain chuckled.

Swift shrugged. “And you’re the only pony who even knows I have that name, cousin.”

“Well, that’s not quite true,” Discentus interrupted the pair with a pleasant smile.

“Wait, I’m sorry, but what the Hell?” Summer asked, rubbing a hoof on the back of her neck.

“Our mother’s were twin sisters,” Rain explained, eying her cousin with a grin. “Gods, Tachys, it’s been what, four years since you visited?”

“Sorry, Sid, it’s been a busy time!”

Rain gave the smaller mare’s shoulder an affectionate punch. “Too busy for family?”

“Alright, alright, I surrender!” Swift laughed.

“Damned right you do, Tach,” Iron laughed. “How’ve you been? You don’t look like the war’s been too bad on you. And how about uncle Gold Feather?”

The comment, meant in jest, made Swift grow visibly saddened. Rain immediately realized something was wrong, and bit her lower lip. “Tachys?”

“Father’s dead,” she whispered, the pain in her voice still fresh.

The words struck Rain like a blow to the nose. She wasn’t given a chance to process it before Discentus confirmed the worst.

“Iron,” he looked to her with a grim expression she’d never seen before. “Haysar, Gold Feather, the Legion… They were all killed at Feathertop.”

It felt like the blood was draining from Rain’s face. Her legs felt weak, her vision started to go black around the edges. The legion couldn’t really be gone, not like that. Not by some terrible trick of the Gods, slaughtering thousands without so much as a fight.

Before Rain could fully compose herself, a new pony walked into the room. His fur was black, his mane a deep blue, and he looked only a few years older than Rain or Swift.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, looking like a stallion drowning on dry land. “Um, Senator uhhh…Senator…” he stared at Discentus, drawing a blank on the old stallion’s name. Swift wiped the tears from her eyes, moved to the black stallion’s side, and whispered into his ear. “Senator Celsus.”

Rain didn’t miss the way she leaned against his side.

“It’s no trouble, sir,” Discentus said, bowing his head politely. “May I introduce Legate Iron Rain of Nimbus. Rain, this is Emperor Hurricane.”

“Emperor who?” Rain repeated, dumbfounded. Why wasn’t Gold Moon wearing the Emperor’s robe? Who even was this Hurricane pony? She held her tongue, at least for the moment. There was time enough for questions, though time for action was almost gone.

It was Discentus who whispered in her ear the answer. “He’s Thunder Gale’s son. It was Haysar’s last command. I will give you the details later.”

‘Thunder Gale, Thunder Gale…’ the name stuck in Rain’s mind until the realization hit her like Magnus’ fist. Thunder Gale, the damned glory hogging bastard who Cirra had claimed had been the only thing that kept Nimbus alive in the last war with the Griffons decades earlier.

The very name made Rain bristle. Was the blood of her people worth nothing? Had her father not rallied the Nimban militia, led the battles from the wall time after time? Had it not been her father who dragged Thunder Gale off the wall to safety? No. Rain would never forgive Cirra for painting her father as the simple brute and handing all the credit to their prized son.

“I have ten meetings scheduled for the same half-hour,” Hurricane complained, trying to read a scroll while also listening to ponies talk. “Who the Hell is Quick Quill and why are they on my schedule?”

“That’s your secretary, Cane,” Swift said with a chuckle.

For a moment the dark stallion was quiet, then he turned his attention to Discentus. “What do you need, Senator?”

“We need to face facts, Emperor. The war is lost. We cannot protect our front anymore, to say nothing of forward cities like Nyx, Pileus, Tornti e Fulgure. Everypony left should be evacuated as far from the front as possible.” Discentus wasted no time getting to the point. “The senate is too proud to admit it. The Legates left alive are too stubborn. With the force we have left, as I am sure you well know, we can do little more than delay Magnus’ army for a few months.”

“I agree, but where. Stratopolis can’t support that many ponies for long, even if we empty out every granary and storehouse in the country.” Hurricane sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hoof hard enough Rain was half sure he’d wear the fur clean off his skin. “I think our only option is to fortify Stratopolis, Pileus, maybe a couple others, then hold out until Magnus offers terms.”

“We could evacuate to the tribal lands in the south,” Rain said, bristling at the idea of surrender. “Hide our civilians there, stage a guerrilla action.” She took a step closer to Hurricane. “We can’t just abandon everything to slaughter or slavery!”

Hurricane looked at her with an icy glare. “Who were you again?”

It was that Cirran disdain that made her blood boil. Rain gritted her teeth, almost took a step forward, but Discentus stopped her.

“Rain, please,” Discentus held up a hoof. “Emperor Hurricane, Iron Rain is the daughter of Winter Rain. He fought beside your father in the last war. She led the excursion behind enemy lines before Feathertop.”

Hurricane seemed doubtful, at least until Swift Spear spoke. “She’s my cousin, Cane. We used to spar as fillies when father visited Nimbus.” Swift flashed Rain a smile. “There isn’t a finer swordsmare alive.”

Rain was glad that her fur hid the blush burning in her cheeks.

“Ah.” The coldness in his voice seemed to melt and Hurricane stepped a little closer.

Discentus cleared his throat, interrupting the moment. “Tribal lands are isolated, it’s true. But there’s no infrastructure there. We would never be able to sustain a campaign. How do you repair armor, swords, or spears, when you’ve no forges or mines? How do you feed tens of thousands of starving mares, colts, and fillies, to say nothing of the stallions composing the bulk of the army?”

“Out of the question, then,” Hurricane said, moving to the desk and shuffling through a pile of parchments. “Where was it…”

“Sir?” Discentus tilted his head.

“I saw a thing…” Hurricane growled, skimming through Haysar’s documents quickly as he could, though his frustration at the task was mounting exponentially. “Ah!” Grinning, Hurricane pulled one parchment from the pile, holding it between his primary feathers. “Proposal for the Exploration of Lands and Territories Across the Seas.”

“Senator Red Quill,” Discentus mumbled, “Never could name a proposal succinctly.”

Hurricane flashed the parchment at Discentus. “What say you of this?”

Stepping forward, Senator Celsus skimmed it over for a moment. “I recall that Senator Quill made a good case. We never moved to take a vote on it, however. Haysar never thought it important enough to take an interest in.”

“I didn’t ask their opinions. I asked yours.”

Discentus straightened his posture, cleared his throat, said “We are in a desperate time, Emperor Hurricane. If it is escape you are thinking of, then we have precious little time to discover new lands before we are overrun. Unless of course you think Magnus will offer terms first.”

“Magnus won’t offer terms. I have it on good intelligence he fully intends to slaughter us all.” Rain interrupted, stomping a hoof. She didn’t dare tell Hurricane what he was capable of. Rain still had trouble believing it herself. She could never help her people if Cirra’s new Emperor thought she was just another Nimban madmare. If only she’d listened to Pathfinder earlier.

Hurricane stared at her, the shock mixed with doubt in his expression. “How sure of this are you?”

Rain thought of Pathfinder. How desperately he’d begged her not to go. She swallowed once and took a breath. “I trust the source with my life.”

“Hmm,” Hurricane rubbed his chin, lost for a moment in the well of his thoughts. Rain mentally had to commend him. His expression bore no inkling of which way his opinion was turning on the matter. She would hate to play him in a game of dice. He turned his attention to Discentus, said “Alright, let’s do it. I want an expedition prepped and flying by tomorrow.”

“I’m afraid the Senate must pass the resolution before any action can be taken, Emperor Hurricane.

“Oh for Fuck’s sake,” Hurricane growled, slapping his forehead with a hoof. “Look, I don’t have time for this. Just get it done, Celsus!”

Discentus smirked. “I’ll twist a few feathers. You’ll have the approval this afternoon, should you desire it.”

“Then do it,” Hurricane waved a wing, then turned his gaze to Rain. “I assume you have a force at your command, what’s the strength?”

“Nimbus has three hundred seventy two militia armed and equipped. Give us time and equipment, and every last mare and stallion could be ready to fight.” Rain paused. There were so few Nimbans left. How much more could she ask her people to sacrifice?

Hurricane shook his head, held up a hoof. “That won’t be necessary. I want you to form the rear guard. Take every civilian you can, get them as far away from the hybrids as possible until the scouts have news of new land, or Magnus offers terms.” He paused, looked to a map on Haysar’s desk. “Altus looks like the best location.”

Retreat and surrender. The very concepts made Rain want to vomit. Yet she’d fought Magnus, seen what he was capable of. With so many dead from the eruption, Rain could do the math. The war was over, and no matter how much it burned her pride, there was nothing in all the world she could do about it.

There was a knock on the heavy oaken door which the guards opened a moment later. Gold Moon, wrapped in bandages and limping heavily “Emperor Hurricane,” he greeted the young emperor with as much of a bow as he could manage. His attention then turned to Rain, whom he greeted with a cold glare.

“Commander Moon, thank you for coming,” Hurricane said, though he seemed surprised by the stallion’s appearance. Rain only barely caught him whisper to Swift ‘Is he on my schedule too?’

Swift shrugged.

“Legate Rain, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he greeted politely enough. She noticed him staring at her missing eye, but didn’t comment on it. “Emperor Hurricane, we must discuss the appointment of a new commander of the Praetorian.”

“Oh for Möbius’ sake,” Hurricane rubbed his forehead again and cringed. “Rain, right? You want the job?”

For a moment Rain wanted to say it would have been her honor to be named head of the Praetorian guard.

“Sir, I must protest,” Gold Moon interjected. “Legate Rain is a fine soldier, t’is true, however I think there are other candidates more suited to the position.”

“Are you questioning my loyalty, Gold Moon?” Rain growled, feeling her temper flare.

“I question your readiness, Iron,” he shot back. “Perhaps–”

“Commander Moon!” Hurricane snapped, cutting the elder stallion off. “I asked Legate Rain, not you.”

Rain growled, her lip twitched, but she forced herself to remain calm. She gave the offer some thought, though her pause must have been long enough to give the new Emperor reason to offer her more. “You can use your own Nimbans. We’ll station them here for the defense of Stratopolis.”

“No,” Rain answered.

All eyebrows shot up to their mane lines, with a surprised Hurricane speaking first. “Excuse me?”

“Where are you from, Hurricane?” Rain asked, dropping the title of Emperor. Gold Moon looked livid, Hurricane, seemed to relax, as though he felt more at ease.

“Zephyrus. It’s a farming town.”

Rain nodded. “Family there?”

“My parents, and my little sister,” he said, eyes narrowing a little.

“For centuries Nimbus has stood guard over Cirra. Every time war comes it is Nimbus that suffers the most. We have no mines of silver and gold, no vast fields of grain or livestock. Our treasure was each other. It was our food supplies that are cut off first. Our civilians and children bombarded by catapults and torn apart by griffon armies. My ponies never had the luxury of knowing peace. And it was our honor to bear that burden.” Rain felt her throat tighten, looked Hurricane in the eye, and steeled herself. “But Nimbus is gone now. My ponies have sacrificed everything. Over half our population stayed behind to cover the retreat knowing that meant the end. They died so the Legion could live. Our blood and treasure have been spent to save Cirra. And now you ask me to give our last full measure to Stratopolis?”

Rain paused, shook her head. It took all her will to maintain discipline, both of her tone, and of the emotion she felt threatening her control. “You honor me with this offer, Sir. But I can’t ask what’s left of Nimbus to sacrifice any more.”

“If our roles were reversed, sir,” Rain said, her voice low. “What would you say if I asked you to sacrifice your family?”

“You insolent--”

“Commander Moon!” Hurricane snapped, silencing the old stallion again. “Your point is well taken, Legate Rain. Can I still count on you to form a rear guard, take care of the evacuees to Altus?”

With a heavy heart she steeled herself, saluted, and let out a curt. “Yes, sir.”

Nodding, Discentus dismissed her with a wave of his wing. “Thank you for coming, Legate Rain. I will discuss the details with you over supper.”

Rain nodded, turned in place, and marched stiffly out of the Imperial office. Only once she was safely down the hall did she find an alcove to duck into. There, alone, she wept.

Comments

[Lerris]

Great chapter!

[KMCA]

Man, I really let myself fall behind on this... With no good excuse either.

Poor Nimbus. All that skill, all that pride... spent. Their very way of life at the precipice of being wiped out. I can't blame her for how she feels.