When The Snow Melts

by Bluespectre

Chapter Seven - Crimson Grass

CHAPTER SEVEN

CRIMSON GRASS

The battle raged around him. The clash of steel, the hiss of arrows, the scream of magic… It never changed; only the faces, and even those faded from memory over time.

Adrenalin surged through him in an ice-cold torrent. By the goddess, they could win this! Victory was so close now, so close that he could almost reach out and grab it with his hooves. All they needed was one final push, and the enemy would collapse like a deck of cards in a hurricane. Then it would be just a simple case of driving them from the field. At long last, after all those months of meticulous planning for the offensive, their goal was in sight.

One of his black-armoured warriors galloped up and saluted smartly, his red eyes blazing like small red suns. “Storm Major, the Celestians are buckling on the left of the line. Your orders, sir?”

This was as he’d predicted. With so many new and young recruits, the Celestians had concentrated them in the centre and placed their more experienced troops on the flanks. No doubt their plan had been to bolster the green troopers’ morale by having the veterans protecting their flanks. Thorn smiled, his white teeth glistening in the moonlight. He’d played along with them, allowed them to make the first move, and then come at them in the usual fine old style…

Head on.

The Celestian centre had engaged with them, their new troops wavering momentarily but still holding. He was impressed. Their zeal and love of their princess was making up for their lack of combat experience. He admired their courage; they were a worthy foe for his warriors. He shook his mane.

“Hold the line, Captain. Keep the pressure on them, but don’t push forward until you receive the order. Do you understand?”

“Aye, Storm Major.”

The major returned the salute, turning to his aide. “Dunn, are your warriors in position?”

“Aye, they’re ready.”

The gruff minotaur smiled, hefting his wicked, double-headed battle axe. The old warrior’s muscles rippled beneath his armour, his scars showing as dark lines in his fur. Thorn nodded in reply. He knew his troops, both their strengths and weaknesses. Minotaurs made excellent shock troops, even if they were a little lacking in grey matter, but their brutality and strength could be the deciding factor in a battle.

He’d fought beside Dunn before, far more times than he could remember. In some ways, it was a miracle they’d both survived as long as they had. A thestral’s element, his people believed, was war; a burning crucible of fire and violence that most of his people revelled in. Their strength, however, was both a blessing and a curse, their numbers now so depleted from years of internecine warfare that it was only the coming of the goddess that had saved them from the brink of extinction.

Nightmare Moon had brought them together, gifting them with a single purpose, a common goal. Now, instead of each other, the focus of the thestrals’ desire for battle was focussed to a single point. That point was before them now, and high above the field, the keystone to the whole plan. She just didn’t know it yet.

The two armies looked to be evenly matched, the lines wavering back and forth, magic sizzling through the air and slamming into the massed ranks of both sides. Arrows flew between the armies like angry hornets as pegasi and thestrals looped and dove, alternating between fighting each other and strafing the enemy below.

The master of arms, a heavy-set griffin, sat picking his teeth with a claw beside him. “Won’t be long now eh, Thorn?”

No, it wouldn’t be long. The Celestians’ lack of planning was all too clear, and that, combined with the recklessness of their inexperienced troops, would be their downfall. The wildcard, however, was their leader…

Celestia, the magnificent white alicorn princess, flew high above them and engaged in a furious battle with their own dread goddess of the night, Nightmare Moon. Beams of intense magical heat lanced out from the Celestian’s leader, matched by the blasts of black lightning from her sister. The lethal duel in the sky was causing its own havoc on the ground as the occasional rogue blast of magic would slam into the ranks of both armies, causing terrible casualties.

Thorn had expected this would happen. It was all taken into account, all carefully woven into the plan that was finally about to come to a deadly conclusion. There was a thump behind him as a familiar voice rumbled out.

“Storm Major…”

“Colonel.”

The thestral colonel sat on his haunches and took out a long-stemmed pipe, lighting it casually with a sigh. “Thoughts?”

Thorn kept his eyes on the battle below. “I think they’re about ready now, sir. They’ve kept to the same battle tactics as before, hemming in the new recruits in the centre.”

The colonel blew out a thin plume of pungent smoke. “Very inflexible these Celestians, Thorn, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

The colonel waved to one of the signallers, who galloped up smartly. He smiled at the grey-coated earth pony and clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s your name, lad?”

“Marble Hue, Colonel.”

“Come from these parts?”

“No sir. My family’s from the north, little village called Quarry Cross.”

“I see. Well, Mister Hue, the question is, do you have a good set of lungs on you?”

“Best in the army, Colonel.”

The older thestral turned to Thorn, smiling. “‘Best in the army’ he says!”

Thorn nodded. “Think we should test them out now, sir?”

“Yes, Storm Major, I do. Do the honours, would you?”

The signaller lifted his trumpet and blew…

Across the battlefield, the trumpets picked up the sound, echoing it back and forth across the scarred plain. The centre of the dark mass of warriors suddenly began to waver, buckle, and then slowly, one by one, break away as they heard the command to retreat. It was no orderly retreat down on the battle line, however. It was a rout.

A great cry went up from the Celestian forces. They could sense victory. All their blood, sweat, and effort hadn’t been in vain after all—their enemy was breaking, running! If they pushed through and chased them down now, they could cut them down as they fled, finally bringing this cursed war to an end. Thorn hung his head. By the goddess, it was too easy… far too easy.

The colonel took a draw on his pipe. “It’s almost a shame, isn’t it? Were we that naive once?”

Thorn shrugged. “Who knows, Colonel. Maybe, once.”

His mind flashed back to when he was a young warrior: fresh, strong, eager for battle and to prove himself to his tribe. No mare would take him until he had shown that he could fight by their side as an equal, to be a stallion his mate could be proud of. It had nearly gotten him killed as well. Nearly. Now, the impetuousness of the Celestian troops would be their end.

Thorn closed his eyes. He could almost hear their veteran soldiers’ desperate calls for them to stop, but he knew that now… now there was no stopping them. The merciless machine of war would grind them. Those that died quickly would be the lucky ones.

He took a deep breath. “NOW!”

Trumpets blared all around him, the ground thundering beneath his hooves as Dunn’s minotaur forces charged down the slope and into the oncoming flood of triumphant Celestians.

The minotaurs held formation, meeting the Celestians head on. It looked to Thorn like a flood of white water smashing into a dam in the river. The dam held.

Horns blared once more, and the previously ‘routed’ troops quickly began to regroup, divide, and swing around the sides of the minotaurs, flanking the Celestian centre and boxing them in.

Thorn watched grimly as the slaughter began.

High above the field, the flash of magic, lightning, and fire reminded him of the fireworks that he’d witnessed at one of the many festivals held in his homeland in the Beyond. It was entrancing, yet terrifying in its ferocity. Somewhere up in the dark sky, between the clouds, the final act would be played out, and this battle, this war, would be consigned to the annals of history. Thorn shook his mane. Was this to be another footnote in the books of historians to be forgotten and filed away? No, this time, this time things would be different. A new wind was blowing, and with it would come a new order, the order of his people’s goddess…Nightmare Moon.

A hippogriff landed beside him, the creature's armour battered and his equine flank bearing the scars of battle. It bowed. “Storm Major, the enemy is fleeing the field. Your orders, sir?”

Thorn didn’t need the report. He could see the panic spreading below him; he could taste it in the air. The major nodded to the colonel, who raised a hoof to the griffin veteran behind him.

“Harry the flanks but keep from pushing too far. Our artillery won’t discriminate between friend and foe, Sergeant.”

The hippogriff saluted and took to the air, calling to his assault wing. Strange creatures, Thorn thought to himself, an odd hybrid of pony and griffin, or was it eagle? He shuddered at the thought. Equestria truly was a strange place.

The colonel trotted up. “Won’t be long now, old friend.”

Thorn slowly shook his head in reply as the glowing green balls of destructive magic arced overhead towards the fleeing Celestian troops.

“No, it won’t be long now…”

Author's Note:

Edited by JBL

Comments

[Bluespectre]

6118763 Glad you like it!

[CommisarSilver]

So nightmare moon won The war in equestrian I guess.

[DE_K]

A hippogriff landed beside him, the creature armour battered and his equine flank bearing the scars of battle.

Creature's

“Storm Major, the enemy are fleeing the field. Your orders, sir?”

Is, they're many united to one force. Is.

[DustTraveller]

At first I was under the impression that this was going to in a very misanthropic direction, and I was worried. Then I suddenly realized that Rush was a misanthrope, and thus as the POV character it wouldn't have been very appropriate if he didn't think accordingly. Rush is very well characterized, he shuns other humans, he has temper issues, there's a great deal of bitterness in him, and yet despite this, there's a great deal of compassion as well, not just towards his wounded charge, but also other human beings as well. He strikes me as cantankerous and deeply disappointed by life, and it's an interesting set up for a character. A hell of a lot better than most of the human characters you see in HiE or human related stories these days, so damn agreeable and mild that it makes you want to puke. So far, it's been a breath of fresh air.

Then the author, through alternate POVs, demonstrated that he knew EXACTLY what he was doing with this story. The alternate POVs are a masterstroke, showing, without telling, that the story ISN'T an "Equestrians are moral and cultural superiors" type of story, it is simply a barbaric and lawless time, both for humanity AND ponies. Granted, I've only read up to chapter 7 so far, but aside from a few minor typos and grammatical annoyances, this has been a great read so far. Most of the problems I've seen so far could be fixed by employing a decent prereader, if you haven't already done so. Looking forward to reading more. Thanks for writing, Bluespectre, I will be following this with interest.

[That One Brony Dude]

6155528 Winning one battle doesn't necessarily mean winning the entire war. Seeing has how Celestia somehow managed to escape, chances are, she'll find a way to defeat Nightmare Moon's armies. Especially after Celestia utilizes the Elements of Harmony (unless this is an alternate universe story, and the author forgot to add an AU tag). If enough of Celestia's troops managed to escape the battle as well, they too may come back to bite Nightmare where Celestia's sun don't shine. If George Washington can do it, maybe the so-called "Celestians" can as well.

[Ethanland]

So, are the thestrals bat ponies or what?

[Queuefka Palazzo]

What amuses me about this is the Celestians have the formation of a pincer maneuver, like Hannibal at the Battle of Cannae, and they don't even know it. They wouldn't have been so horribly slaughtered if their middle ranks hadn't advanced.