Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Forty Seven - On Other Wings

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

ON OTHER WINGS

Fire, smoke, the burning heat of the flames…they were everywhere. Dear Celestia, they’d come out of nowhere, charging through the camp with axe, sword, spear and fire, killing everypony in their path and disappearing into the night as fast as they’d appeared. None of them had made a sound: no neighs, shouts, screams, just…silence. It was terrifying, and the cries and moans of the wounded and dying left in their wake was too awful to contemplate. Some of their number, the more impetuous, had gone after their attackers, charging off into the forest. None of them had returned. Thank the Goddesses that their precious barrels hadn’t been hit or there’d have been nothing left of any of them.

Cove groaned, pulling himself to his hooves and surveyed the damage. It was bad; they’d lost at least six killed and eight wounded, including much of their medical supplies. There was a strange irony in that which he didn’t want to think of right then. What was more pressing now however, was working out how the hell had the Legion had found them and defend themselves against further attack. They’d been careful, keeping under the tree’s, moving only at night, and made sure to cover their tracks…so what the hell had gone wrong? He’d have to think about it later, for now though, he had to get them into some semblance of order. In the immediate aftermath of the attack, many of them had become spread out along the game trail they’d been following, and at any time those damned things could come back. He shook his mane; oh yes, sooner or later they would come…

“Lieutenant!” One of the medics trotted over, dropping down beside him, “Are you…damn!” she lifted her hooves to his shoulder and levitated out the medical set from her pannier, “Hold still, I’ve got to fix this or you’ll bleed out.”

The mare worked while Cove barked his orders, pulling in the troops to form a tighter defensive perimeter. They would need to hold up for the night; if they kept moving those bloody things would just pick them off one by one. In the darkness of the forest at night, the black coats of the thestrals would give them a distinct advantage. Starch however, didn’t agree; he wanted to keep moving, to head to more open ground where they could see their attackers coming. The problem was, they had no idea how many were out there - they’d lost all of their pegasi in the last attack. It was as if the bloody things knew they would pull them in due to the thick forest canopy where a pegasus was of little use, especially with night drawing in. He should have kept them up there, he should have…damn it all! It was a mistake that was going to cost them now. Cove grimaced; it had only been a matter of time before the thestrals began organising to track down the various teams. He could only hope they hadn’t kicked a hornets nest too big for them to handle.

Starch appeared, wiping grime from his face and shaking his head sadly,

“We’ve lost a few more. Their wounds were just too severe.”

“Damn…” Cove nodded his thanks to the medic who finished up and trotted off back to the others, “We’re in it this time, Starch. Those moon cursed things went through us like butter.”

“I’ve never seen thestrals fight like that before.” Starch replied solemnly, “I thought they’d have slammed into us and just kept slugging away until the last one fell.”

“Which suggests there’s not as many of them as there are of us.” Cove reasoned, “I think they were trying to break us up, make us go after them into the forest.”

The older stallion snorted, “Hmph, it worked too. It was the new bucks who raced after them, like lambs to the bloody slaughter.

“Any of them come back?”

Starch let out a sigh, “You already know the answer to that, old boy.”

The defensive perimeter was quickly set up. Sharpened stakes, tree branches, anything that could be utilised to slow up or break up an attack was put into use. Unicorns were placed at intervals to provide illumination and ranged fire along with crossbow armed ponies. Once the guards had been posted, the others, including the wounded, were able to rest and be tended to. The rest of the night passed without incident and, in some strange way, it was more terrifying than another attack. Nothing else happened…there was no sound, no movement…nothing. The forest was as silent as a graveyard.

Everypony was ready to move when morning came and the sun began to filter through the trees. Their next target was a good days march to the north, but the risk…Cove sat on his haunches, rubbing his temples,

“Starch, you’ve fought them before, what do you recommend?”

The orange stallion stretched his neck and nodded slowly, “We can’t complete our next objective while we’re being pursued that’s for sure, and as sure as I’ve got a hole in my arse, our monotone friends will be back.” He scratched his ear, “For now, I’d recommend we abort the mission; I’d also suggest we stop being the mouse and become the cat or else they’ll keep the initiative and it will only become a matter of time before we end up as leftovers for the carrion.” Starch looked over at the ponies getting their gear together. “Look at them Cove, they’re scared witless. We need to do something, and we don’t have long to figure it out.”

The young Lieutenant stared up at the sky, at the way the early morning light played through the leaves making their coats appear patchy and confused. He nodded to himself as a thought began to form in his mind…maybe it could work…maybe…

In the shadows of the forest, burning red eyes watched silently.

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

The peculiar creature looked like a pony that had covered itself in glue and then rolled in wool. Alright, maybe grown a few feet as well, had its neck stretched and…oh, sod it! Cyclone didn’t know what these things looked like! They were just…weird. The bloody thing could barely speak Equestrian either and had the strangest accent she’d ever heard. It kept looking at her, but talking to Stock, and she didn’t like that…she didn’t like it one bit. Come to think of it, was it actually looking at her at all? She couldn’t see its eyes for the mop of woolly stuff over its face.

“You like, yes? Plenty good for pretty pony?”

“These are the one’s listed on the order, aren’t they?” Stock tapped the list they’d received from the customer.

The Llamalian trader adjusted its small red hat, “Yes, order is fine, but you want these too. Pretty pony like these.” He…it…whatever it was, nodded towards Cyclone, “Pony like pretty things, yes? Do you good deal on excellent merchandise.”

“What sort of deal?” Cyclone asked. Goddesses her skin felt like it was covered in ants. What was with this guy?

The Llama smiled, its teeth large and white gleaming in the intense sunlight, “Four thousand bits. Good deal, yes?”

“F…Four thousand?!” Cyclone gasped, looking up at Stock.

He shook his head, “All ten of them,”

“No!” the trader said shaking his head, “Four. One thousand each is a pittance for such beautiful quality, no?”

“No, it bloody isn’t!” Cyclone snorted, nudging Stock in the shoulder, “Just get what we agreed!”

“I’ll give you four thousand and an extra five hundred.”

The merchant shook his head and continued on his long explanation of how ‘wonderful’ and ‘beautiful’ the rugs were. Cyclone’s brain felt like it was going to explode! Stuck in this boiling hot, noisy, dusty city with an argumentative bloody ‘thing’ made her feel like she was going to pass out. How the hell did they survive here with all that wool? Goddess buck her into next week, she’d be itching to shave the lot off and leap into a river just to keep cool! Hang on…it had gone quiet, and the two males were shaking hooves. Did…did it even have hooves?

“A pleasure doing business with you, ponies.” The merchant said bobbing his head. He turned a smile on Cyclone, “A most…excellent…arrangement.”

“Mmm, I’m sure.” Cyclone muttered. She looked up at Stock, “Can we go now?” she asked in a sarcastic voice.

The two ponies left the merchant’s shop after making arrangements for the delivery of the ‘merchandise’ to the docks. Cyclone stared at the list, reading though it piece by piece. She shook her head and read again,

“This isn’t right…” she murmured, “No. No, this can’t be.”

“What’s wrong?” Stock rumbled beside her.

Cyclone jumped in front of him, holding up the list with her hoof,

“Explain to me how we managed to get all…this, for four thousand? There’s at least eight thousand bits worth here and even after we take into account the port taxes, crew wages and everything else, not to mention the profit we’re expecting…bloody hell, Stock, we’ll be rolling in it!”

“Aye, I reckon we will.”

“I don’t understand,” Cyclone said frowning, “how did you manage to get such a great deal from him? I didn’t think the woolly sod was going to give any ground at all back there.”

Stock said nothing.

“Stock? What’s going on here?”

The big stallion huffed, “Nothing.”

Cyclone pushed him suddenly in the chest with both hooves and stared him in the face,

“Don’t give me that! What’s going on? Tell me!”

The Ship’s Master stood staring at her, keeping his voice level, “I don’t know how you can ask me that after you agreed to…” he trailed off.

“To what?”

Stock narrowed his eyes, “You don’t know? But…you agreed to it!”

“I…I don’t know! I wasn’t listening!” Cyclone protested, “It’s so hot, I was tired and you know Llamalian’s don’t like listening to females and…oh no…”

Suddenly it began to come back to her in fractured pieces. Something about females, dinner, the ship…she’d simply nodded and agreed just to shut him up. She had…she’d agreed to…to something else, hadn’t she?

Stock looked at her and shook his head, “You weren’t listening…” he groaned and facehoofed, “No wonder...” The big stallion leaned against the large cool stone of the immense city walls, “Look, we can just go back and tell him the deal’s off. We can always…”

“NO!” Cyclone cut in, “We’d lose face! I’ve only recently taken command of the ship and the crew need paying - we can’t do that or we’ll be ostracised by the merchants guild.”

Stock stared up into the sky, “I don’t like it, Cyclone. Call me selfish if you like, but you and…and him…” he rumbled low in his throat, “If he touches you…”

Cyclone reached out to him and kissed his cheek, “I wouldn’t do that, love, I promise.” She hung her head, “Oh Stock, I’ve been such a bloody idiot. What have I done…”

“It’s just dinner at the Captain’s table, Cyclone, that’s all. If he thinks he’s getting any more, then, well…it wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” she groaned, “You should have known…”

“’I should have known you weren’t listening’?! Cyclone!” he shook his head at her in exasperation, “Mares!”

She couldn’t blame him for being angry, if it had been him agreeing to something like that she’d have been incensed. As it was, it was the angriest she’d ever seen him, and it…hurt. Hanging her head, she gave herself a shake. It was just a meal with the Llama wasn’t it? Nothing more. What could go wrong? Whinnying, she cantered after the brown stallion.

The rest of the day was spent loading cargo and the ship being made ready for sail. Stock was still angry with her, she could tell - he’d hardly spoken to her since they’d got back. She sat in the cabin and hung her head, furious with herself, and at Stock. Why couldn’t he be more understanding? He didn’t have to be so damned obtuse about things, after all, it wasn’t like she’d agreed to sleep with the woolly thing had she? She paused…had she? Oh Goddesses! Wait…no, no she hadn’t, but then she knew so little of these things. Cyclone shook her mane and slumped on the bed, her hoof trailing against the decking.

Cyclone? Are you hurt?

The green pegasus shook her head at the ship’s concerned question,

“No, Windy, I’m fine.”

Come to me…

She sighed, “Aye…”

Cyclone let herself relax, her mind slipping free of her damaged physical shell. Her body was broken, a flightless winged creature, bound the earth beneath her hooves. But here, with the Wind Wraith, she flew…and how she flew! The ship knew her, understood her, even with little more than just the few months they’d spent together, their relationship had grown and developed. Years of ceaseless cruelty and the thoughtless horrors committed by those upon her and within her, had left the ship as scarred as her captain. But now, submerged as Cyclone was within the Wind Wraith, she was felt safe, secure…and happy.

Cyclone floated in the darkness, her eyes closed as all other sight, sound and thought was replaced with this new ‘being’. She smiled to herself. Simply existing in this place, this quiet, had been frightening at first, but now…now she longed for it. Everyday, with all the stresses and strains of running a vessel, she would increasingly retreat to the darkness and just ‘be’.

Cyclone? Do not do this.

“Hmm?” the pegasus mare sighed, “I know, I should just send word to him and refuse to go ahead with it.”

No. This. Spending so much time with me, away from you.

Cyclone clucked her tongue, “Stop being a worry wart, Windy. It’s fine.”

What about the stallion? Stock, he loves you.

“I know, its just,” The Captain shook her mane, “sometimes I like to be away from it all. It’s…it’s…oh I don’t know!”

A sense of caring and concern emanated from the Wind Wraith, wrapping itself around her.

You miss flying. I can feel it from you, I can see it in your eyes.

Cyclone nodded, “I do. I thought I was used to it, that I’d accepted it, but…I can’t Windy…I can’t!” she fought back a sob and squeezed her eyes shut, “Please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Open your eyes. I have something to show you.

The mare did so, looking out at…the sky. Her eyes went wide. It was the sky! It was all around her, above her, below her – it was all around her!

Stretch out your wings.

She…she couldn’t…her wings, the muscles and bones, everything was…

Fly.

“I can’t!” Cyclone cried out, “I…I can’t, my wings are…”

Fly.

Cyclone felt like screaming. Her eyes streamed tears for all the years of being trapped on the ground, her wings smashed and useless, strapped to her sides and hidden from the sun. How she remembered the feeling on the warmth of a summers day upon them, the way her feathers would ripple in the breeze, how the air would feel as she beat them against it, propelling herself up…up into the blue. She strained her body; pushing, kicking her legs and shaking her mane and tail, thrashing against the shackles that held her down, fighting the great weight of gravity which pulled at her. She screamed out her rage and anger at the world, her fury at the cruelty and senselessness of what those beasts had done to her, the pain, the humiliation…

Forelegs gently wrapped themselves around her neck, and…something nuzzled her. She gasped and pulled back, away from…nothing. Cyclone looked around in shock,

“Wind?”

I have learned, I have seen.

Cyclone looked about her at the blue sky and white clouds. The ship’s voice seemed to be coming from near her, but she couldn’t place it. She sounded…different.

“Come…fly with me.”

Cyclone blinked, then blinked again. A pure white pegasus mare with a long pink mane and tail, flew past her and looped back, her hair streaming out behind her like a comet. She was…beautiful. Cyclone stared in amazement and awe - she was like…a Goddess. The Wind Wraith flapped her wings lazily and soared up into the sky before diving down beneath the startled green pegasus, only to soared back up, effortlessly holding her position in front of the wide eyed Captain.

“Surprised?”

“I…” Cyclone wet her lips, “Wind?”

The white mare laughed, “If that is what you wish to call me, my captain, then so it shall be.”

“But…I didn’t think…”

Wind chuckled, “-No, neither did I, but Amy showed me. It is within us all, those of us that are still here. The magic was always inside me, it just needed a strong enough emotion to unlock the door to my inner self.” She laughed, “Am I not beautiful?”

Cyclone laughed, “You are! You are unbelievably beautiful!”

The white pegasus drew nearer, her golden eyes shining in the sun,

“Come…fly with me.”

“I can’t, my wings…” Cyclone’s eyes stung as she fought back tears.

Wind shook her head, “Here, in your heart, they are as beautiful as you are, my Captain.” She took Cyclone’s forehooves in hers, “Let me show you…”

With a gasp of shock, the green mare found herself suddenly pulled forward, the wind whipping past her and flowing under her…under her wings. She closed her eyes,

“Please…oh, please…please…”

Wind laughed, “You have always been able to fly. It is within your heart, your mind and your soul. Your physical body may be grounded, but you, the real you, is as free as the wind beneath your wings.” She kissed her on the nose, “Come…let us fly together.”

Almost instinctively, Cyclone flapped her wings. The all but forgotten feelings, the power, the freedom, the sense of liberation, was…it was overwhelming. She shot upwards, flying effortlessly past the white mare, soaring up, higher and higher. She was free…FREE! With a scream of sheer joy, Cyclone swept through the sky, plunged through clouds, diving, rolling, soaring…she was finally free!

The white mare came up alongside her, her eyes watching her with a subtle smile,

“Whenever you wish, you may join me here, in my world, our world, and fly.” She reached out and cradled her Captain’s head in her forelegs, “Don’t forget this is only part of who you are. Do not neglect your physical self, for as with all things in the world, balance is the key to harmony.” She gave her a wink, “You have a balance there too, remember?”

Stock. Cyclone smiled, and then let out a groan. That bloody Llamalian! He’d be here any time and…

“A Llamalian?” Wind asked curiously, “Does he know I am one of the fleet’s vessels?”

“I don’t know, I suppose so, he never asked.” Cyclone thought for a moment, “No, he just took the paperwork from me, haggled and then I landed myself in this bloody mess.”

“We shall see…” Wind chuckled, looping around Cyclone once more, “Now, I believe we have time for me to show you the towers of the City of Amber, where I was I was born. Its towers were like needles, pointing high into the heavens, so high that some even had snow on them in summer!”

“No!”

Wind winked at her, “Shall we see?”

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

Stock sat on his haunches, knocking back another rum. They’d been in there an hour now, and each toll of the bell was like a dagger in his heart. The crew were keeping well out of his way - new and old hooves alike. And well they should. Goddesses he was in a foul mood! He slammed down his cup and lifted the bottle in his forelegs, trying to pour out another, but the bloody thing kept moving,

“Keep still, damn you!”

What the hell was wrong with this ship? He hadn’t drunk that much had he? Even the crew seemed unsettled as the deck heaved suddenly. Giving up on the cup he drank straight from the bottle, downing a good quarter before letting out an almighty belch. He was hungry too…really hungry, and by the all the Gods and Goddesses in the eternal herd, he knew where to find food too…

Stock staggered up the heaving deck, slamming into the railing and nearly pitching muzzle first into the door to the Captains cabin. Reaching out a hoof to steady himself, he misjudged his aim and crashed into a pile of ropes and other assorted equipment. Cursing under his breath, he stared daggers at the door, the very door that blocked his view of that…that thing! Gods above, why was he so jealous? Didn’t he trust her? Yes…yes he did, but still…damn it all! Something like that wool covered creature may turn her head. He’d heard how mares went for the ‘new’ and ‘exotic’ foreign types, and that guy ticked every box going. Worse still, he knew damned well what the thing was after and it was a damned sight more than wafer thin mints for after dinner! He gritted his teeth, determined to go in there, trading deal or not.

The door suddenly flew open with a bang.

“But Faffle, you haven’t finished your desert yet!” Cyclone’s voice carried out onto the deck.

The Llama wasn’t listening; the cream coloured creature was heading for the main mast although seemed to be spending more time going sideways than making any actual headway. Stock stared in amazement: he’d never seen a Llama that colour before…

“Out of…out of my…oh!” the merchant staggered into the mast as the deck heaved again, sending him sliding across the deck towards the gangplank, “Let me off! Let…” he suddenly leaned forward and threw up all over the deck and himself, all the earlier suave decorum thrown to the wind. Two of the deck hooves went to help him, cringing back when the vomit covered creature tried to stand. Stock couldn’t help but smirk at the state their guest was in.

“Gods help me, I want to get off!” the poor Llama was on his belly, dragging himself to the edge of the ship and all but rolling off to land unceremoniously in a heap at the bottom of the gangplank.

“You okay?” One of the crew shouted down.

“I never go on ship again! NEVER!” the Llama shrieked, finally pulling himself to his hooves and charging off into the busy dock district beyond.

The Wind Wraith finally settled in the water, the calm spreading out beneath the keel, but also amongst the crew. Stock could sense it, he could also sense something else…humour.

“Stock?” Cyclone’s big purple eyes loomed over him, “You’re drunk.”

He nodded, “Aye, Captain, I am, and I intend to get drunker still.” He lifted the bottle, “As punishment for drinking too much.”

Cyclone shook her head, “Then do it where you’re not making a spectacle of yourself and get your sorry bones in the cabin.”

“Next on the list eh?” he burped.

The Captain’s eyes flashed dangerously,

“What did you say?”

“I said…”

Her hoof shot out and cracked Stock across the jaw, sending the big stallion to the deck in an alcohol soaked mess.

“Bosun!” Cyclone yelled, storming back towards her cabin, “Throw THAT into the brig until he sobers up.”

“Aye, aye Cap’n.”

The cabin door slammed shut. Inside, the Captain leaned back against it, her eyes filling with tears. That…that bloody horses cock! What the hell was he thinking? Damn it, she was so angry! Storming over to the drinks cabinet she took out a bottle of wine and poured herself a generous measure before dropping onto the bench seat beneath the window where she could look out over the bay. Stock was usually such a sensible stallion; a stickler for the rules and a disciplinarian, but he was also a surprisingly gentle lover for such a powerful creature. Of course, she knew why he felt the way he did and why he’d soused himself in alcohol - she may even have done the same had the roles been reversed, but…but it still hurt. Didn’t he trust her? Even now, after everything they’d been through? Sometimes, she could still feel the bite of the lash against her skin, the look in his eyes…and then…the way he took the rest of the punishment for her. Cyclone took a mouthful of her wine and closed her eyes. It probably wouldn’t have been so painful if she didn’t love him so. She shook her head. With any luck, the stupid bugger would have a hell of bad head in the morning and serve him bloody right! Beneath her, she could feel the Wind Wraith singing a wordless song of freedom and joy, extolling the sheer exuberance of life. She had to smile; despite the turmoil in her heart, everything would be alright in the morning, with the dawning of a new day.

Comments

[PanzerBrony Metallicom]

Is Tempest not a thestral? What is he doing than with the Celestians? Or do I missunderstand something there?

and

“A Llamalian?” Cyclone said curiously, “Does he know I am one of the fleet’s vessels?”

I guess it should be Wind who says that.