Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Three - In an Azure Sea

CHAPTER THREE

IN AN AZURE SEA

Chalk Dust lay in the corner of the enclosure trying to make sense of what had happened to him. The world had changed from the light hearted banter of the barracks back at the royal castle, to a raging maelstrom of magical fire, smoke and death. He’d been fighting, sending magical energy bolts up into the sky to try and bring down the enemy fliers, but then those ‘things’ had appeared. Trailing plumes of white cloud and screaming their otherworldly battle cries, the demonic apparitions had descended upon them like avenging spirits. The mere sight of such beings had been heart stopping and all too much for some of Chalk’s comrades who’d panicked and tried to flee, only to be cut down by…goddess forgive them, their own comrades.

Their orders had been absolute…’hold the line’. He shuddered; there hadn’t exactly been much choice really had there? Run and die, stand and, well, maybe die. Lightly armoured as many of the unicorns had been, he’d relied upon the magic shields of the front rank to protect them from the incoming projectiles, magic and the goddesses knew what else. A line of infantry had been posted to their front to protect them from direct attack by enemy ground forces: young warriors, fresh faced and keen. Also, as they found out all too quickly, hopelessly inadequate.

The first attack by Nightmare Moon’s army had been surprisingly less intense than he’d expected, with the Legion’s attack spread out along the whole line of battle. He’d even begun to believe it would all be over by midday and they’d be back at the barracks sharing drinks and stories of their exploits. Foolishness. The enemy hadn’t been anywhere near as uncoordinated and inept as they’d been led to believe by their officers. Far from it. They’d simply been biding their time, waiting for the right opportunity, and then, inevitably, it came.

From where he’d stood it had been hard to see much more than the ponies around him. Little room had been provided for movement and the press of so many had been bordering on claustrophobic. Chalk was mostly troubled by the fact he was surrounded by, essentially, strangers. As a unicorn he’d been banded with others with similar magical abilities and the last he’d seen of his foalhood friend had been the night before the fighting had begun. It had been nigh on impossible to find him, let alone speak to him. The numbers of ponies in the various camps was simply staggering. Still, at least they’d managed to share a drink together before…before what? One minute he’d been stood there, concentrating on trying to shoot magical bolts at the enemy, when suddenly the soldiers who had been assigned to defend them had simply vanished. Moments after somepony realised their front rank had turned tail, those white things bore down on them, raking the ground with intense blue fire that turned those around him into horrific frozen statues of glittering ice. One after another, row after row…it had simply been too much. With their front exposed, under a merciless assault from above, the final hammer blow fell with deadly effect.

Minotaurs.

There were hundreds of them, maybe more, and they slammed into their line like hot steel through ice: slicing, hacking, chopping down the fleeing unicorn’s like wheat beneath the reapers scythe. It had been over in seconds. He’d tried to run, to flee back to the forest, but he tripped, striking his head, and then…

Chalk closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to stand. Almost immediately, somepony slammed into him, knocking him into the corner of the fenced enclosure,

“Watch where you’re standing, fool!”

Chalk opened his eyes painfully. The yellow coated stallion standing over him was little more than a blurry outline in the kaleidoscope of colours swirling around his vision. Goddess damn it, his head was ringing like a bell! He had to try and stand, to recover his bearings somehow, along with his wits. The yellow stallion pushed him roughly in the chest with his hoof,

“I said, watch where you’re standing! Are you deaf?”

A voice from behind him spoke up, female by the sounds of it, “Leave him alone for the goddess’s sake. Aren’t things bad enough without turning on our own too?”

The yellow stallion turned away, “Shut your stinking mouth! If your lousy kind had done their job properly, we wouldn’t be in this mess at all.”

“Our lousy kind?” Another voice retorted angrily, “You braggarts were so full of blood and thunder last night weren’t you? You were ready to take on the world! Yet today, when we needed you, where were you? I’ll tell you where; running for the bloody hills! At the first sniff of the enemy ‘your kind’ broke and ran like whipped dogs!”

“Why you…!”

A gruff voice, heavy and full of barely hidden menace, cut through the rising crescendo of bickering and arguing, “Be quiet, all of you, I’m trying to sleep.”

The first pony’s sneering voice came back, full of derision, “Oh, keeping you up are we, hero? What did you do today? Pissed yourself with fear, did you?”

Silence fell. Chalk’s eyesight was finally starting to clear, the colours and shapes reforming into recognisable forms, but his legs…He winced. By the goddesses, they were still aching horribly, making his stomach feel even more unsettled than it already was. Leaning against the fence, he tried to push himself up, but a slender mint green leg pushed him down. Confused, he stared up into a pair of deep purple eyes, and the mare who was shaking her head slowly at him. He paused, settling himself back down.

“The real hero’s are the one’s lying on the ground down there.” The gruff voice rumbled ominously, “All I see is a coward who turns on his own people to make himself feel as if he has some control left over his fate.”

The yellow stallion was indignant. All but vibrating with rage, his voice became a near shriek, “You piece of dung! How dare you speak to me like that! Do you know who I am?”

“I don’t give a damn who you are,” the rough voice replied, “but I can tell you what you are: you’re a prisoner, like the rest of us, so just shut your mouth and at least try to show some dignity.”

“You’ve no idea who…”

“You, come with us” A thestral appeared in the open gateway, flanked by two griffins carrying wickedly curved swords. The heavily armoured creature nodded towards the yellow pony and in moments, the wide eyed stallion was quickly and efficiently collected by his captors who shepherded him back out the way they had entered. The gate closed behind them with a horrible finality.

Nopony moved, the sounds of their breathing seeming to drown out all other noise around them. A strong sense of fear began to permeate the enclosure, the ponies within shifting nervously and looking at one another as if expecting somepony to simply offer a solution, an explanation…a glimmer of hope.

Pulling his legs under himself and shifting his weight, Chalk Dust managed to haul himself to his hooves, using the fence as a prop until he was standing upright. Nopony spoke. The silence in the enclosure was starting to feel so oppressive that he began to wonder if he should have stayed down on the ground. Goddesses, how his head hurt! Holding a hoof up to it, he was relieved to find no blood, but the pain was like an ice pick through his skull.

“Nasty crack you took friend. Hold still, I’ll take a look.” A pale blue stallion pushed through the massed ponies and peered down at him with large pink eyes, “Hmmm. Possible concussion, lacerations, some grazing and bruising, but you’re otherwise…” The pony was interrupted by a gout of vomit as Chalk’s stomach lurched, emptying its contents violently. Jumping back, the blue pony raised an eyebrow, “And there may be some nausea.” He called over his shoulder, “Somepony get him some water.”

“Get it yourself!” A voice shouted back.

There was the sound of shuffling, pushing, and then the gruff voice from earlier was back, “Here you go, Doc. How is he?”

“He’ll be fine.” The blue one replied, passing the bowl of water to Chalk.

A cherry red mare pushed forward, “For now”. Her bloodshot eyes were puffy and swollen, “It would have been better if you’d left him. He could at least have died in peace.”

“Always the optimist, eh, Gretel?” The brown stallion rumbled back to her.

“Just being realistic, Stock” She replied sourly, “I don’t think any of us are exactly expecting to be met with tea and biscuits up there.”

Chalk gulped down the water gratefully, wiping the last few drops from his muzzle. He looked up at the mare inquisitively, “Up where?”

The red mare, Gretel, bobbed her head in the direction she was looking, “See that tent?”

Chalk nodded, “Aye”

“You go in, stay a while and when you come out, sometimes you go to the left, sometimes to the right.” The red mare looked away, her eyes distant, “Either way, they never come back here.”

A stallion behind them began to weep quietly, “We’re going to die…all of us” he sank to his haunches and held his face in his muddy hooves, “I’ll never see my family again…never”

One of the older mares reached a foreleg around him, and gave him a nuzzle, “You’ll see them again son of Equestria. Maybe not in this world, but I promise you, you shall be together again. We all go to the herd someday; today, tomorrow, years from now, it doesn’t matter. Our lives are fleeting things, passing from dawn to dusk in the blink of an eye. And it is well too, for who would want to be held from the promise of the eternal herd for long?” She looked down into his welling eyes, smiling, “Don’t let fear rule your heart my little one. What matters is that you did your best, that your heart is true, for the wonderful open plains and lush grass of the land of the eternal herd awaits you. There you’ll meet the ones you love once more, and be together forever under the blue skies and warm sun of the gods.”

“What a load of bollocks” somepony called out, “You don’t seriously believe that crap, do you?”

The mare kissed the frightened younger stallion on his head before replying, “I do. The gods created this world for you, for all of us, with the promise of a life of peace and joy in the next. The princess has told us this, and I place my trust in her.”

“Trust her?” A silver-grey stallion pushed past the milling equines to come face to face with the older mare, “She took us to war! My brother was cut down in front of me, my friends turned to lumps of ice by those flying monsters, and for what? This?!” He stomped a hoof, “You think she’s a goddess? Immortal? Then tell me, where is she now? Wouldn’t she come and save us if she really was this wonderful divine being you make her out to be?”

The violet coated mare shook her charcoal mane and smiled at him. Her piercing pale blue eyes fixed him with their otherworldly gaze, making him back up in alarm, “I didn’t say she was a goddess, son of Equestria.”

The male backed up, his mouth hanging open for a moment before shaking his head, “Then…” he swallowed, “Then how can we believe anything she tells us? If she’s not a goddess, then how can she know?”

“Does it really matter?” The mare said quietly, “Whether you believe it or not, none of us are immortal, all of us die. Wouldn’t you rather have faith that there is something better beyond this world? That there is some hope for a better life?” She held up a hoof and placed it on the stallion’s shoulder, “Wouldn’t you want to live in a world where you could meet your brother, to run with him across green hills and through the golden fields? No cares, no fear, no pain…it awaits you, son of Equestria” she turned to face the others, “It awaits every pony.”

A young mare, little more than a filly, nudged her, “I’m so frightened! I…I don’t want to die…”

“Shhh, don’t cry daughter,” The violet mare smiled gently, stroking her mane, “The gods are with you, they see the light in your heart and wait happily to welcome you home” She looked around at the ponies watching her, “We’re all going home.”

Chalk rubbed his ear, turning away to peer up at the tent. He wasn’t sure about gods, goddesses, and all which that meant. His father had disappeared when he was a foal, leaving his mother to raise him alone. Where were these gods and goddesses then? When those foals had…

His eyes locked onto something, some…pony. That couldn’t be, could it? He stood up on his hind legs, leaning his forehooves on the fence to try and get a better look, “Bracken?” Was that him? There weren’t many ponies with his friends colouring around and he tended to stick out like a sore hoof, but that wasn’t to say there weren’t others who looked like him. In moments though, the stallion was gone, lead away by one of the thestral creatures, off to the right of that large tent.

The blue stallion beside him tapped him with a hoof, “You okay?”

“Hmm?” Chalk jumped back down, “Oh, yeah, I just thought I saw somepony I knew that’s all.”

The unicorn stallion, ‘Doc’, raised an eyebrow, “Well, if it’s your friend, at least he’s not stuck in here with us.”

“Isn’t there some way we can get out of here?” Chalk asked, staring at the gate, “There’s not that many guards, couldn’t we…”

“-Have you tried your magic?” Doc interrupted, “Go ahead, give it a try.”

Reaching for the familiar power, Chalk concentrated on releasing a small amount of magic. Not much, just the tiniest sliver, enough to…

“Ow! Bloody hell!”

Doc shrugged, “See?”

“For Celestia’s sake, Doc, what are you trying to do to him? Couldn’t you have just warned him instead?” Gretel hissed, rubbing Chalk’s neck, “You okay?”

“No!” Chalk groaned, “Magically shielded?”

“Yup” Doc took a mouthful of water, “Unless you’re part mole, or can buck that gate open, we’re stuck here.”

“This doesn’t make sense” Chalk took a pull on the water bowl. Clearing his throat, he looked into the blue stallions eyes, “We’re not officers, so what the hell good would interrogating us do them?”

Doc shrugged, “Buggered if I know, I just patch up wounded heroes like you.”

“Nopony knows”, Gretel sighed sinking to her haunches beside him, “You know as much as we do about that tent.” She yawned, stretching out a crick in her neck, “Regardless, sooner or later, they’ll come for all of us.”

So this was it, was it? Hemmed into a pen with strangers, only to be dragged off to the goddess knew where and…Chalk closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. He was still so young, he’d never even had a marefriend, never even…

“Hey, what’s your name?”

He looked up into the maroon eyes of the cherry red mare. She was a little older than him, fairly heavy set with a mid length yellow mane, the colour of the sun. He’d never had much to do with mares, especially since school, and the army wasn’t exactly the place to ‘meet your special somepony’. His colouring tended to put anypony off from speaking to him in any case, and the way this one was looking at him was…

“Did that bash on the head addle your brain?” she said bopping him on the muzzle, “I asked what your name is”

Chalk opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. The cherry mare was so close, frighteningly close! “Ch..Chalk Dust!” He squeaked trying to back away.

The mare laughed, “Well, you probably heard already, but I’m Gretel. This miserable bugger here is Stock, and the blue sawbones who nearly gave you brain damage is Doc.” She indicated the two earth ponies sitting nearby, each in turn giving him a nod. Chalk smiled nervously,

“Um…Hi.”

Gretel peered into his eyes, “You have very green eyes, Chalky, I like that. Oh, do you mind if I call you Chalky?”

“Uh, no…not really. My friends call me that anyway.” He stammered.

The mare giggled, “Good! Now then, how about we work out a way to get the hell out of here?”

*******************

Dust motes drifted lazily through the tiny beams of light in the warm, musty air of the tent. Bracken sat on the edge of the camp bed, feeling his legs; they were all still there thank Celestia…or…He blinked and stared down at his forehoof, the place where she’d touched him. Had he dreamed it all? The princess of the night, Nightmare Moon, the traitorous sister of their beloved Celestia who had betrayed them and become a, a…monster? He gave his mane a shake, trying to clear his mind and ran his hooves over his skin. It was all still intact too, or rather, was intact now. He’d been in a mess, near death, and now he was here in a tent in what was most likely Nightmare Moon’s camp. What in Equestria was going on here? Why was he still alive? As if in answer to his question, a slim pony entered the tent, a tray of drinks and a bowl of what looked like cherries balanced on her back. She was incredibly thin, bony almost, and covered in a white knee length tabard. The mare’s wings bulged slightly beneath the lightly embroidered cloth, and she kept her burning red eyes downcast.

“Excuse me…” Bracken said, but the creature didn’t reply. Deftly, she took the tray from her back and placed it next to him, removed the old one, and walked out. The confused stallion scratched his head, watching the strange creature leave as silently as she had arrived. She was no pony, he realised, but a thestral. Great goddesses, how had he mistaken her for one? These strange, alien things that had invaded their lands, killed their people, and yet they seemed somehow strangely familiar too.

The tent flap moved slightly, accompanied by the clang of weapons being brought to another position. ‘Guards’ Bracken thought to himself, quickly dismissing any thoughts of a quick trip outside and slipping away.

A now strangely familiar face appeared in the shaft of light spilling into the tent. The midnight coated mare, the goddess of the Legion and the princess of the night, entered, Her mane and tail flowed behind her like living smoke, sparkling with the twinkling light of countless stars, but it was her eyes that drew Bracken’s gaze the most; those almost reptilian pupils set in a mesmerising sea of pure azure. The mare’s exotic smile made his heart jump,

“I told you about naughty thoughts, Bracken.” She chuckled, “Now, how are you feeling?”

This bizarre situation was way beyond anything he could possibly conjure up in his own mind. Maybe he was still injured, lying sick on the battlefield, his brain concocting an illusory world that…

“Your temperature has come down at least, that’s good.” she purred.

A warm forehead pushed against Bracken’s. Those eyes, deep as the oceans depths, locked with his. He gasped and pulled away,

“Ma…”

Nightmare Moon raised an eyebrow, “’Ma’?”

Bracken shook his head, trying to gather his wits, “Majesty”, he stammered, “I…”

His lips moved, but his throat was so dry that the words died in his mouth. The dark mare smiled gently and levitated the bowl of cherries to him with a brief glow of her magic,

“Here”, she said quietly, “try one, they’re good.”

Bracken shook his head, “No! I mean, your majesty, forgive me, I…”

Lifting one of the fruits in the purple glow of her magic, the mare carefully floated one towards her mouth, holding it firmly between her lips. Bracken stared at it, his mind focussing on the succulent looking morsel. He licked his lips, his mouth beginning to salivate in anticipation. Moaning slightly, the princess leaned forward, reaching out with her forelegs and pulled him towards her. Bracken gasped, willing himself to pull away, to escape, and yet his body reacted almost automatically. It was her scent, her eyes, she was so close…

The mare’s lips met his, pushing the berry into Bracken’s mouth with a shocking mixture of tart juice and feminine breath. He felt like he was one fire, his fur tingling and his hooves itching. Oh goddesses! She hadn’t poisoned him, had she? He tried to speak, but a silvery metal shod hoof tapped him on the nose playfully,

“Shhh, no talking now.” Nightmare Moon said seductively, “there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Closing his eyes in resignation, Bracken lost all sense of time, all awareness of where he was, and even…his own self. The sweet taste of the fruit, the tingling sensation it sent running throughout his body, it all felt so natural, like he was one with both it and the world. And somewhere, far away and yet still so close he could feel her body heat against his skin, Bracken could sense that terrifyingly beautiful presence watching him. His heart was racing now, his body reacting all on its own. Bracken reached out, taking the mare in his embrace, pulling her towards him…

“Playing with your food again, princess?”

Bracken’s eyes flicked open in surprise, Nightmare Moon’s disappointed face mere inches from his. She pulled away from him, shaking her head slightly, a look of disappointment flashing across her features before she turned to face the newcomer,

“Do they not have doors in your home, Lord Maroc?”

“Oh, yes.” The pony replied in a somewhat sarcastic tone, “But mine tend to be made of, shall we say, more ‘solid’ materials?”

The princess clucked her tongue and walked casually over to the doorway, “Sarcasm never was your strong point.”

“Nor humour yours, ‘your majesty’” The grey stallion raised an eyebrow and gave Nightmare Moon a heavily exaggerated bow. Bracken cringed, expecting at any moment a blast of magic to incinerate the overly familiar pony. Instead…she smiled,

“Anypony else, Maroc, anypony else.”

“I know” the stallion smirked, tossing his mane roguishly, “You’d have me in chains.”

The princess barked a laugh, “I’d have your head!”

“And who could blame you!” Maroc grinned, “I mean, who else do you have under your illustrious command with such rugged good looks?”

Nightmare Moon’s eyes glittered as she leaned close to the newcomer, her wings ruffling as if in some unseen breeze, “Don’t tease me, Maroc, you know what I want.” She lifted a hoof, reaching out to touch him and paused. Suddenly, she turned away, her voice little more than a whisper, “And you know what you can have…my lord.”

Maroc gave a snort, “Luna, I…”

“Don’t call me that here!” The mare snapped back, “I am Nightmare Moon, your goddess! You will show me respect and fealty as is befitting of one such as yourself!”

“Forgive me, your divinity” Maroc bowed low, his manner suddenly changed to one of submission, yet Bracken could still see that tinge of confident arrogance about the fellow. The grey stallion’s voice was level but respectful, “I have come to give your divinity a message.”

Nightmare Moon kept her back turned, her face hidden in the gloom of the tent,

“Well?”

“Lady Arathea is to give birth soon, to my son.”

Nightmare Moon’s horn flared with magic, her voice dropping menacingly,

“And…and you have come to tell me this…why?”

Maroc stood up tall and straight, every word clear and precise, “I am returning home for the birth.”

“You…!” In a flurry of black wings, the princess span to face the grey stallion, her mane and tail swirling around her in an astral fury. Nightmare Moon’s eyes narrowed, the glow of magic emanating from them as bright as her voice was deafening in the confines of the tent, “You are abandoning your post?” She bellowed, “You are abandoning ME?”

Maroc didn’t flinch, “I will welcome my son to the tribe of the four winds as is our custom, your divinity. When he has been anointed, I will return.”

The princess slammed her hoof down and threw the chalice of wine across the room with unbridled fury. Bedding, cushions, and all other unfastened items were suddenly and violently picked up and hurled around in a raging storm of magical energy. Bracken covered his face with his hooves in fright as the princess’s voice boomed out around him making his ears quiver with its power,

“LEAVE ME!”

Maroc bowed, “By your divine guidance.”

A goblet flew at him, narrowly missing his muzzle,

“GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!”

Maroc knew not to try and dodge, but still, when she was in one of ‘those’ moods there was no reasoning with her. Outside, he grabbed his cloak and sword from the guard and drew quickly from the wellspring of power deep inside, calling the spirit’s magic to him, guiding it, tuning it. With a wince, his wings broke through the hide on his back, snapping out wide in the daylight; such as it was. Shaking out his bright blue mane, Maroc snorted out a blast of ice crystals from his nostrils. Arathea’s time was near, and he would be there for her as a husband should, goddess or no goddess. He sighed. It was time to go home.

A blast of frigid air blew into the tent, making the walls ripple and the temperature drop like a stone. Nightmare Moon stood tall, visibly shaking with rage, her mane billowing angrily around her as the interior of the tent blazed with the purple light of unleashed magic.

Bracken sat in silence, open mouthed, too frightened to speak or move. There was only one way in and one way out of that place, and that was past the black fury that was the princess. Slamming a hoof into the ground in frustration, Nightmare Moon sank to her haunches, closed her eyes and shuddered. Bracken had never seen a pony so angry, so emotional; should he do something? And yet, every part of him was screaming at him to run, to hide, or to back into a corner and simply try to disappear. But seeing her like that, full of pain, suffering…

Nightmare Moon opened her eyes in surprise, her magic winking out in an instant. A strange sensation rolled through her body, her fur tingling electrically at the feeling of being…touched? In amazement she tried to reach a hoof up to her head, only to find a black coated pony ‘hugging’ her…hugging her! The midnight mare’s heart, so long buried, as ice cold as the mountains of the frozen north…moved.

With a sudden pulse of light, Bracken was flung across the room, landing in a sprawling heap of legs on the floor. Trying to regain his composure, Bracken looked up into a pair of azure eyes and the sharp snarling face of the goddess of the forces of the night,

“How…How dare you!” She delivered a slap across his face with her hoof, “HOW DARE YOU!”

Despite the pain, regardless of how much his mind protested, Bracken gazed up at her as tears began to well in his eyes. The anger, the pain, the hate, emotions of every kind, radiated from the midnight mare like an open blast furnace. Heart thundering in his chest, Bracken felt a tingling wave, like tiny sparks of electricity, flood through him from his muzzle to his tail. The enemy of his people, the killer of ponies, the one who had turned against her own sister: she was here, before him now. But…why did his heart hurt so, to see her suffering like this?

The princess’s magic glowed briefly, the thrum of magic enveloping the room and then blinking out as if it had never existed. Bracken blinked away the tears, looking up into the deep azure eyes of his captor. It was so quiet now, so devoid of sound, that he could feel and hear his heart beating in his chest. He closed his eyes. Slowly, gently, he felt a pair of forelegs slip around him, the warm fur of the midnight mare pressing against his. He could feel her heart beat, smell her scent filling his nostrils. Carefully, he reached up and tentatively drew her into an embrace.

Together, without speaking, the two held one another in the darkness.

Comments

[Admiral Q Ponyform]

We get to the heart of Nightmare Moon. Eternal Night was always a means to an end. Her end was to be loved. She has been shunned by most of Equestria as has her night. She is not evil but desperate. hence why everything that has happened is the result of Celestia's incompentance.

[Fallen Knight]

Chalk cringed, expecting at any moment a blast of magic to incinerate the overly familiar pony. Instead…she smiled,

Bracken is the one who is with NMM in the tent not Chalk.

[Truthseeker]

Something does not make sense to me. In the previous story, we see a flashback from Talon's memory where his Father was mortally wounded in battle and his Mother was captured. His Father told him essentially that his Mother was going to be raped to bear foals for this winning tribe. Yet in this story, a Thestral keeps a mare from being raped. I am really confused at the difference, if there is one.

Well in either case, I feel less than no sympathy for the Thestrals. They are barbaric, blood-thirsty idiots. They war amongst themselves endlessly, to the point of fearing extinction, then they happily engage in the wholesale slaughter of anybody else they see, without any sort of mercy or even logic. They torture and murder their captives, aside from Thorn, I have seen absolutely nothing positive or edifying about them. I can understand why Celestia hates them so much and honestly I cannot argue with her.