Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Fifty Four - Warriors Lament

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

WARRIORS LAMENT

Hunger and privation were discomforts that a warrior had to endure from time to time, and were an accepted result of the incessant internecine warfare in the Wither World that had brought many of the tribes to their knees. In some ways though it was something they could all understand – but this…this was something altogether new: Equestria had seasons, whereas the Withers had none. More confusing was the fact they had day and night cycles, whereas the Withers, once again, had one - an endlessly, unchanging dark sky that disappeared into infinity. This place, the land they hoped to call their home, was beginning to wear upon them. It had been subtle at first, the odd occasion wereby the food was a little short on quantity - easily explained away of course, but then there had been days where food had simply not arrived at all. Fortunately, thestrals were adept hunters, but with so many in the army, prey animals quickly began to run short and many of the warriors were unsure as to what they could and could not hunt; occasionally with disastrous consequences. Fortunately, some of their pony allies had proven helpful in this regard, as well as the carnivores such as the griffins, hippogriffs and of course, those temperamental dragons.

The Colonel hated dragons.

His sour mood had been fermenting all day, rather like the bile in his empty stomach. Those damned Celestians had taken honour and thrown it out of the window; attacking their supply lines, their reinforcements and outposts with surprising ease. The Legion had limited resources to begin with, and after the surrender they’d spread out their numbers to maintain order in the country whilst the population became used to the new order. All the Celestians had done however, was use the situation as breathing room to lick their wounds, regroup, and attack the lightly defended castle whilst the bulk of the Legion’s forces ran off on some wild goose chase! As much as loved his Goddess, as much as he would throw down his very life at her command, he wished she would leave commanding the army to those who had more experience in such matters. Fulminata took a draw on his pipe and let the smoke roll around before sending it up into the chill air. He’d read the latest reports and they made for poor reading. The Celestians, those ‘weak’ and ‘spineless’ herbivores, had more spine that he’d given them credit for - at least, until the latest report had come in. There’d been a raid to the southwest, at a lightly defended food distribution centre. It had been next to a medical post, where warriors were sent to recuperate. The ponies had…he sighed, scratching his chin, they’d killed everyone: the medical personnel, the wounded, the sick…everyone. It was war, and in war victory was all, but still…killing those incapable of fighting back was…wrong. Naturally, they had tried to keep the whole sorry episode quiet, but inevitably word had got out, and now the warriors wanted revenge. Tempers were beginning to boil over, not just with the main force, but elsewhere. Reports had come in regarding incidents of warriors losing control and killing civilians in a frenzy of violence. Worse still, there had been more reports of warriors being found with home made ‘battle enhancements’ - that sickening powder, ‘Haj’.

Thank the Goddess they were moving at last. The feeling of tension, like a wound spring, was beginning to dissipate with the warriors focus diverted back to what they did best. Garrison duty, guard postings…these were no job for a warrior of the Goddess, and spreading themselves out had just made them easy picking for the rebels. He had to admit though, he had some grudging respect for the Equestrians - their tactics had been…novel. But now, hungry, angry and thirsty for battle, his warriors would push the blade fully home into this ‘uprising’. The Goddess was with them, their goal clear: destroy the white witch, eliminate the enemy, kill anything or anypony who bore arms against her Divine Majesty. Fulminata’s wings ruffled slightly with a shiver of excitement. Battle was his element, war his stock in trade, and he would teach these Celestians what happened to those who defied their Goddess.

Most of the warriors had been recalled, only a few now remained in outlying areas who had not responded; they were more than likely already with their ancestors. Priority now was given to re-assembling the army into the cohesive, lethal, and focussed fighting force it had been during the invasion. For the most part that had been accomplished and even the dragons, along with their elder, Etrida, had promised their support along with the wendigo. He shuddered involuntarily; some of his people virtually worshipped those damned things, seeing them as some sort of highly evolved thestral, ‘ascended’ to a ‘higher plane’ or some such nonsense. He saw them for what they were: ponies infested with the spirits that inhabited the world between the worlds, the things that would appear from time to time in the black sands of the Wither World - lonely, hungry and forever searching for the living. The wendigo were little more than descendants of ponies who had given themselves to those things, and sold their soul to the vile entities, and for what? Power? Longevity? Some things were simply not worth the sacrifice. His people, the thestrals, had already sacrificed too much, far too much. He opened the tent door and walked inside into the spicily scented interior. The temperature in here was at least warmer than outside, but the strong incense was almost overpowering.

The healer bowed politely to the older thestral, “Good morning Colonel.”

Fulminata bobbed his head in reply, “How is he?”

“Well enough to walk, old friend.” A familiar voice said from behind him.

The Colonel span round to face the smiling warrior he knew so well,

“Thorn!” he reached out clop the warrior on the shoulder and paused, “Are you…?”

The Major’s eyes burned brightly, his whole demeanor showing willing and drive. He nodded his head, “I’m alive.” With a laugh, he reached forward and clasped forelegs with his friend, “It’s good to see you again. Where have you been?”

Fulminata shrugged, “Chasing my tail for the most part.” He sighed, “I expect you’ve heard the rumours?”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, “Celestia…”

The Colonel nodded, “Back and leading a rising tide of insurgency against us. The witch is back in her lair and we’re going to go and put an end to this farce once and for all.”

“You don’t think she will just wait for us there, do you?” Thorn said.

“No.” The Colonel shook his head, taking out his long stemmed pipe, “I know she won’t.” He passed another to his friend despite the healer look of dismay. Fulminata chuckled, “Our Goddess’s errant sister will come to meet us.”

“What? Head on?” Thorn’s eye’s flared, “That would be madness, unless…”

“-she knows something we don’t?” Fulminata shook his head, “I know what you mean, and finding information has proved…difficult” He lit his pipe with a thin stream of flame and took a few puffs, “…but not impossible.”

Thorn nodded, the two of them leaving the tent to walk outside and talk privately. Tying on his cloak the Major checked nobody was nearby before speaking,

“Dragons?”

“I believe so.” Fulminata said quietly, “Etrida has heard rumours of a deal being struck with the southern dragons to be gifted their nesting grounds when they have won.”

“The arrogance!” Thorn barked a laugh, “Dragons are all the same.”

The Colonel smiled, “I’m inclined to agree.”

“Theres more though isn’t there?” Thorn said raising an eyebrow, “Dragons fighting dragons is one thing, but the real battle will be on the ground.”

Fulminata nodded, “They have approached the yaks and llamas for help.”

“Do you think they will?” Thorn asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” The Colonel shook his head slowly, “We have agents in their homelands offering ‘incentives’ to keep out of our affairs.”

The Major scratched his mane in thought, “I do not know these creatures, are they a threat?”

Fulminata shrugged, “Her Divine Majesty does not believe so. Personally I believe the Llamalian Empire’s weapons are intrigue, rumour and money, whereas the yaks are most notable for being suicidally hot headed - and for making cloaks.”

Thorn laughed, “I can honestly say my dear Colonel, that I have little skill in the art of knitting!”

The two friends laughed together, taking in the cool air and morning sunshine. It was bitterly cold, with still the odd snow shower, but the Goddess had assured them a thaw was on the way along with warmer weather.

“Your injuries appear to he healing up well.” The Colonel observed, “A few more scars like that and you’ll have every female in the land chasing you.”

Thorn shook his head, “Not with this wing.” He said staring off into the distance, “No female would want a cripple as a mate.”

The Colonel watched his friend’s expression; it never changed. This wasn’t like him, not at all. What had happened to him in that other world? He gave him a stern look,

“Thorn, you know better than that.”

“Perhaps…” The Major sighed, “Forget I said anything. I fear being trapped in the healer’s tent all this time has worn upon me more than I thought.” He barked out a laugh, “Not quite as indestructible as I thought I was, apparently!”

Fulminata smiled; his friend would be fine, and everything would be as it should be after all. Being confined like that, unable to fight beside your comrades, must have been hard for him,

“Thorn, I…”

The Major suddenly coughed loudly and grimaced.

“Thorn!” The Colonel caught his friend as he toppled over sideways, “Healer! HEALER!”

The Colonel’s shouts quickly brought the Legion’s healer along with several of his orderlies. Pushing in, the older thestral placed his ear to Thorn’s chest and looked in his eyes. Quickly, he clopped his hooves together and, with practiced ease, the downed thestral was rolled onto a stretched and whisked back to the main tent. The Colonel followed close behind.

Several hours passed. The warmth of the tent was oppressive, and making Fulminata feel unwell just being there. How could anybody recover in such a place? He’d rather be outside beneath the sky, than suffering and possibly breathing his last in here. It was a terrifying thought. Being killed on the battlefield held no fears for a warrior of the Goddess, but being wounded, dying slowly…it was a fate that he didn’t want to contemplate. He caught the healer’s attention as the strange creature re-appeared from behind the curtain,

“What happened? How is he?”

The healer shook his head and wiped his eyes with his foreleg, “Tell me Colonel, have you heard of ‘Equestria Syndrome’?”

“That nonsense?” The older thestral sniffed derisively, “I’ve heard the rumours as much as anyone, but it’s soldiers gossip - no more than that.”

“There is some truth to it.” The healer said, sitting back on his haunches, “We’re adjusting, all of us, day by day to this new world, but its taking its toll in the meantime: the weather, the food, the sun, the moon…” he sighed, “I could go on.” The strange creature scratched his muzzle, staring off through the opening in the tent, “It’s affecting some more than others, and I’ve had to send some of the older warriors back to the Withers already.”

“I knew nothing of this!” The Colonel said in a louder voice than he meant to, “We need all our fighting strength here, now! And you’re sending them back?”

The healer fixed him with a look, “Would you risk having a deranged warrior in your midst? Some of them have been turning to Haj, despite the threat of execution. We need time, Colonel, time to adjust, and to acclimatise to this world. This is a battle we cannot win by brute force, but by time.”

Fulminata gritted his teeth angrily. Why hadn’t anyone told him about this? He took a breath and tried to calm himself down. Of course, what the healer said made some sense, there were plenty of rumours flying around about warriors losing themselves to anger, but it had usually been put down to the poor diet due to the Celestians attacking their food lines and the lust for revenge for fallen comrades - but this? This sounded as though they were fighting not only the Celestians but the land itself. Dear Goddess, was that true?

“What has this to do with Storm Major Thorn?” he asked.

“He needs rest, proper rest, and familiar food from our home world.” The healer replied, “He’s been through a lot, Colonel, but he’s not healing as well as he should. I’ve got other cases like him too.” He glanced back towards where Thorn lay beyond the heavy curtain, “He needs to go home.”

Fulminata shook his head slowly, “Are you certain?”

The healer nodded, “If he stays here, he could die.”

The Colonel turned towards the entrance, “Get him home” he said quietly, “Quickly.”

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

Thorn lay on the straw, bouncing and jarring along with the motion of the cart. Despite the addition of springs, the thing still felt as if it were hitting every rut, furrow, and pothole in Equestria. He didn’t get motion sickness often, but his injuries and the subsequent infection has combined to steal away his chance to be there when the army clashed with the Celestians for the final battle. Somehow, he had to get himself fit in time, but how? One minute he felt fine, the next he was throwing his guts up over the side of the cart.

There were others here with him too, others who’d been injured in service to her Divine Majesty: others, who were just…sick. He was sick, sick and tired of being like this: weak, pathetic, and useless. What use was he to his people, to the Goddess even, as a damned cripple? He felt another wave of nausea pass over him with a jolt from the cart. Damn it! It would have been better it that damned boy had killed him, or better still, if he had killed him when he’d had the chance. He’d tried to help her though hadn’t he? The White Witch as they called her - the alicorn…Celestia. He’d come to know her, a little anyway, in the world of humans, along with her…’companion’. ‘Rush’, that was his name; a two legged male human with claws like a minotaur and teeth like a pony. How those things had survived as a species was probably more down to their ability to manipulate tools than anything else. He’d seen the humans at work – they had a surprising level of dexterity, more so than the average thestral. They were intelligent too…for the most part. He felt sorry for the human though: he clearly didn’t belong there. Although he were a thestral himself, even he could see that Rush stuck out like a missing ear.

What was Rush’s relationship with the Princess? Friend? Lover? Surely not. Nobility tended to marry within their own ranks in Equestria, or so he’d been told. His people did things a lot more sensibly; there, the females decided who they wanted as a mate and, providing one was not already taken, would tell the tribal council of their decision and that would be that. If another female lodged an interest, then the two would fight to decide who took the male. Here, it appeared that both males and females pursued each other dependant upon their fancy. Thorn shuddered; the thought of having to approach a female warrior and tell her of your ‘interest’ in her was…disturbing. Still, the way that human had looked at the Princess, the look in his eyes - it was not one of blind devotion as he would have expected, but one that spoke of a deeper bond between them. He coughed out a laugh; he was going soft! Thinking about such nonsense was not something a warrior should be…

The cart lurched again, sending a wave of hot nausea through his stomach.

“Hey!” one of the others called to him, “Where are you going?”

Thorn pulled himself to the tail of the cart, “I’m going to walk; unless you’d like me to cover you in vomit.”

The others were silent after that. Clambering out, Thorn managed to catch himself and was pleasantly surprised to find his legs still worked surprisingly well. Goddess, he wished he still had his pipe, but the healer had told him in no uncertain terms that that little pleasure would likely send him to the next world in his current ‘condition’. It was just another frustration, another hurdle that needed to be crossed before he could put this whole sorry mess behind him. Fortunately, the column was moving slowly enough that he could keep up, and he joined the ranks of walking wounded, solemnly trooping along behind the cart. Some of them…some were…he shook the thought from his mind. Dwelling on such things was no place for a warrior.

They trudged on, through sleet, snow and rain for hour after hour. At least he hadn’t passed out yet, so that was a good sign, he thought to himself bitterly - but his stomach…what the hell was wrong with the thing? It was… He looked up, they were stopping. From the front of the column, a pony walked back, passing out ladles of some sort of broth to them all. Thorn held his mess pail from its bail and watched the watery slop drop into it.

“I’ll be glad to get home,” One of the warriors grumbled beside him, “for the food if nothing else.” The dark green thestral stared after the long haired mare, “Damned things…it’s all their fault…all of them.”

Thorn walked over to the side of the track and sank to his haunches. Goddess help him, even a whiff of this stuff made his stomach do somersaults. Still, if this was all they were going to get, he had to make at least some effort to keep it down; a warrior’s body needed fuel. A vibration through the ground announced the arrival of the green thestral,

“What do you think?”

Thorn glanced at him while sampling the contents of his pail, “About what?”

“You know! Them!” the newcomer nodded towards the mare, “Celestians!”

“That’s not a Celestian,” the Major replied dismissively, “she’s from one of the northern tribes.”

The dark green coated warrior snorted derisively, “Fooled you too, have they?” He glared after the mare, “Vile, evil, lying sub-creatures. You can’t trust them, none of them, they’ll slit our throats as we sleep.” He poked Thorn with his hoof, “She’ll come for us too, you wait and see.” He nodded knowingly to himself, “You’ll see.”

The Major closed his eyes and hung his head. What was this bloody fool talking about? The paranoid ramblings of some random lunatic were the last thing he needed right then. Despondently he stared down into his pail at the watery remains of what had apparently been masquerading as food; he’d eaten it, mostly. In some strange quirk of fate, the distraction provided by the green thestral had probably diverted his stomach’s attention away from its constant desire to empty itself. Long may it continue, he thought to himself bitterly. Fortunately, with evening approaching, bedding was soon issued and with it, the prospect of a welcome nights sleep.

Night time on the road was anything but comfortable. The cries and shrieks of unfamiliar wild animals had many of them on edge, especially the younger ones. This world, this strange new land, was something he wanted to call home, but even so…it didn’t feel like…he sighed…”home”. Thorns mind drifted off, sleep coming gradually, but comfortingly.

Home. Such a simple word, but conjuring images of warmth by the fire, a cup of balta with your friends and…what was that?
Thorn’s eyes flicked open. Was he hearing things in his sleep? It must have been another loud Equestrian beast that…

There is was again.

He was fully away now and reaching for his axe. Fortunately, that was one thing they hadn’t taken from him, or his armour, albeit that was still in the supply wagon. He strained his eyes and hearing; there definitely something…a grunting, gasping sort of noise, like a creature struggling with another. Thorn flexed his shoulders and headed towards the sound, keeping low, moving away from the sleeping warriors of the column. The guards were at the far end by the fire, well away from ‘the sick’ - how thoughtful of them. He was getting nearer though; the sounds, although sporadic, were definitely nearby. There was a gasp, a whimper of pain and then the low cackle of something, or someone, laughing just beyond the next group of thick bushes.

It was the green thestral.

Thorn stared at the warrior standing over the twitching body of the mare who’d brought them their food earlier. The thestral held a long thin knife between his teeth which gleamed in the light from his glowing eyes, the blood of his victim slowly dripping onto her fur. He looked round at the Major’s approach, his eyes wild with what Thorn could only describe as…madness.

“I told you…” the green thestral said releasing the knife, “I said she would slit our throats in our sleep, but you wouldn’t believe me would you? Now the Goddess is angry at us for allowing this evil creature to come amongst us, and now…” the stallion made a strange coughing sound, his voice rising in pitch, “Now they must all die…all must be cleansed.”

Thorn had seen battle madness before, he’d seen what the true horrors of war could do to a thestrals mind, but this…he recognised it. There was only one thing that induced that kind of mindless, empty stare,

“Haj” he whispered.

“Hmm?” the green thestal replied, his lip quivering, “She’s still warm, brother, shall we have a little fun with her? The Goddess would want us to enjoy this bitch before she goes to join the white witch in hell.”

“I don’t think so.” Thorn said quietly, “Come away, leave her.”

“So you can have her all to yourself? I don’t think so.” The thestral said, his voice dropping an octave, “This is my kill, my prize, and I say what I do and not you!”

Thorn narrowed his eyes, “Come back to the others with me, brother. They have hot drinks and…”

“You seek to trick me,” the thestral hissed, reaching for the knife, “…don’t you…”

Thorn’s mind emptied of all extraneous thought - focussing, channelling his strength and his movements. His eyes never left the warrior before him as the green thestral picked up the knife in his forehooves, settling back onto his hind legs in the classic fighting stance with smoke curling up from his muzzle.

“Don’t do this.” Thorn said quietly.

The other warrior blinked, his expression changing for just the briefest of moments, as though another personality, the other self, was still there below the surface. A heartbeat later, he charged.

Thorn was waiting, his axe twisting, snaking through the air and impacting with the crazed thestral’s forehooves. The knife spiralled away as the warrior shrieked in pain and rage before the axe completed its arc, smashing into the side of his head with a sickening crack. The Major leaned down and checked the down green warrior’s body…he was alive.

“Major?” Several of the guards had appeared, “We heard shouting.”

The Major nodded towards the green thestral, “Haj. Have him bound and put in one of the carts.” He glanced down at the mare, “And send for the orderlies.”

“By your command.”

A light groan caught the Major’s attention; the mare was apparently still alive. He leaned down, checking her for signs of injury, but with all that long hair it was hard to see. Strangely enough, she didn’t smell as he’d expected. Rather than the matted, reeking things many of the warriors believed them to be, she had a delicate floral scent that reached out and tickled his nose - interesting. She certainly had a nasty cut across her neck though, no doubt caused by the long knife the green thestral had been wielding. Fortunately, the blood wasn’t pumping out and it looked to be conjealing already. She’d been lucky. They both had. With luck she would make a full recovery; as for the green thestral – that was less likely…

“Sir?” The orderlies arrived and quickly checked over the mare and in short order had her on a stretcher, “We’ll take her back to the surgeon.”

Thorn nodded, reaching down and collecting the discarded knife after first wiping the blood off its long blade. It was a vicious weapon, more like something he’d expect for fishing or in a kitchen than for killing. He slipping it into his belt and began walking back towards the column. He may be able to see about getting a scabbard for it later, or maybe he’d barter it away for some tobacco. Smiling wryly to himself, he gave his mane a shake and imagined the aroma of proper tobacco from the Beyond - from home. The knife should fetch him a goodly amount, and would finally serve a more fitting purpose than it had been put to this night. Speaking of which, a few more hours sleep would be just what he needed.

Morning came all too soon…again. Goddess damn it! When was he going to finally get some sleep? He’d been restless, waking up again and again to go to relieve himself in the bushes. At one point he’d even thought of just pissing behind the tree he was sleeping against just to avoid having to walk too far away, but ‘hygiene was a soldiers ally’, as his father had always taught him. His father…by the Goddess, what a time to think of that. Still, at least the breakfast griffin was doing the rounds and heading his way. The mangy looking beast bore more than a few scars himself and looked like he’d done more than his fair share of fighting over the years. What the creature was doing here was probably down to either money or the lure of the Goddess. Some griffins had values other than just money of course, but reputations had a habit of sticking. Thorn fished out his mess pail and duly, the familiar foisty smelling broth was dumped in with as little ceremony as he’d expected. The beast was walking away from him already…

“Orderly?”

The griffin turned to face him, “Sir?”

“How is the mare?” Thorn asked.

“She’ll live.” The feathered creature replied in a disinterested tone, “Sir.”

Thorn bobbed his head and the griffin walked away to continue his rounds. Barely anyone spoke, and even the orderlies themselves looked as if they’d lost heart in their work. The Major sighed and look about him: it was a column of despondency and despair, with an emptiness of hope where only the mad had any life about them. By the Goddess he wanted to just get his gear and walk back on his own, but the weakness, the hollow feeling within him, was never far away and always ready to remind him was still sick. He’d certainly lost weight, his bones were showing more than ever, and he wondered how he must look now. A puddle nearby looked clean enough to hold a reflection, but what he saw…Thorn closed his eyes and sighed. He looked…thin, pale and drawn. Thestrals already looked like skeletons compared to ponies - a disturbing comparison that he had noticed almost the moment he arrived in Equestria. The warriors had terrified the Equestrians with their alien appearance, and yet in some strange way, the ponies had a similar effect on the thestrals: their big eyes, their stocky bodies and…he shuddered - that way they had of looking right into your soul…

A voice from the back of the nearest cart caught his attention. It was the green thestral, bandaged and securely tied and muzzled. The last thing they needed was that fellow going on the rampage, but with any luck the healers would be able to help him. Horribly, he doubted it. He’d seen the effects of Haj all too often, and that damned fool Rend had taken its use to a whole new level. Thorn shook his head before taking a mouthful of the ‘something’ that was lurking in his mess pail; in his own minds eye, he could still see Rend, the way he’d stared at him, the way he’d lost all sense of reality, pride and honour. It was a terrible end for a warrior…terrible. He couldn’t remember much after he’d been wounded, but the soul wrenching screams of anguish from the white alicorn Princess would haunt him until his dying day.

“Kill…you…kill…all must…die…”

“Somebody shut him up for the Goddess’s sake!”

“Should have him put down. Look at the state of him, he’s finished anyway.”

The voices washed over Thorn as he finished his breakfast. There was a stream nearby, he’d use that to wash his pail and have his ablutions before they started to move again. Better still, he could get away from the crazed green thestral. Guiltily, he wondered whether it really would have been a mercy to have sent the warrior to the next world and save him suffering in this one. Perhaps sometimes…mercy could only breed more pain.

“…his whole flight.”

“All of them?”

“Uh-huh, every one. Dead to the last.”

“Dear Goddess.”

“Lost his sister too. I never did agree with serving with your family, it’s a bad idea, I said, a bad…”

Thorn walked away. He didn’t want hear any more, all he wanted was...what? He didn’t know any more, his mind was a muddle of images from the human world, from his world, from this world, all of it spinning and whirling in a confusing mass of…A wave of nausea hit him, taking him off balance and into the side of the cart. He gasped in a breath, fighting back the urge to vomit, closing his eyes against the hot waves that flooded his body, making him break out in a sweat.

Suddenly, above him, the muzzled head of the wild eyed green thestral appeared, his teeth glinting in the early morning light,

“She’ll come for you…she’s coming for all of us.” He began to cackle madly before breaking into a tuneless song, “All of us, one and all! One and all! ONE AND ALL!”

“Shut up, you damned fool!” One of the warriors shouted out.

“She’ll slit your throat with her silver tongue, and drink your blood like finest wine. She’ll dance on the dead and sing to her Goddess of the death that she has wrought.” The green thestral’s eyes burned intensely, “Don’t you see? Can’t you understand? You’re all going to die!”

One of the warriors rose angrily to his hooves, “I’ll send you to the afterlife first you damned…”

Two of his comrades caught hold of him and pulled him back down before things got too out of hoof. Thorn ignored him, taking out his canteen and took a mouthful of water before pouring the rest over his head. With a shake of his mane, he walked away, the green thestral’s words whispering out behind him,

“She’s coming for you…she’s seen you, you know her secret…and for that…you’ll die…”

The Major wrapped himself back up in his cloak and shivered against the chill morning air. Despite his cloak, despite even the bedding, the air here felt colder than ever.

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

“Hoy, Dray!”

The General shook his head and smiled helplessly; Harrier just had that sort of effect. Others might disapprove of the forward little pegasi’s mannerisms, but she was a damned good officer and one of the best fliers they had. She, no doubt, would say ‘the’ best.

“Harrier.” Dray nodded.

“We’re going to have to shift flank to get there and do what we need to do.” The pegasus began, “That lot are going to hit us like a bloody tidal wave.” She gave her wings a shake and effortlessly jumped into the air for emphasis, “The ground’s black with them, General, and they got they’ve got the whole shebang with them this time: griffins, thestrals, minotaurs, dragons and ponies. The crap’s really going to hit the fan.”

“Thank you for that enlightening report.” Wild sighed, walking up to them, “Perhaps you could show us on the map?”

Harrier rolled her eyes, “Well, duh! I going to do that already. Here…” she passed Wild a scroll, snatching it away as the Major reached for it, “whoops!” with a deft flick, it landed in the outstretched hooves of the General. “Sorry about that Wild!” Harrier chuckled, “Guess you got outranked eh?” The Major could feel her eye twitching already. That bloody infuriating mare!

The General studied the map, peering at the symbols, number and directions plotted with Harrier’s customary precision. He didn’t need to ask for clarity, it was all here, layed out as clear as day. They had to move, and fast. He had to prepare the ground, he had to have the time to do all he could to save as many lives as he could and still carry the day. They could do this…they could! He rolled up the scroll,

“Harrier, you have your orders, but remember…”

“-Yeah, yeah, I know already!” the mare clucked her tongue, “Flexibility and the freedom to adapt to a changing situation.” She smiled, “Good to see you trust me still.”

“I never doubted you or those under your command, Harrier.” Dray said knocking back his brandy in one mouthful, “You will be our eyes, our ears, and the arrow we loose from the bow. You have your other orders?”

“Naturally.” Harrier smiled, “It’s in the bag.”

Dray dismissed her with a salute and the pegasus blasted off into the sky with her Lieutenants.

“Don’t say it.” Dray said, walking past Wild, “You always do.”

“If it were anypony else…” The Major shook her head in exasperation, “You do indulge her, you know.”

The General took out his pipe and started to pack it with tobacco, “Because she’s the best, Heather, that’s why.” He looked up at her with a distant smile, “Equestria needs the best. I do too.”

Wild nodded solemnly, “I know.” She lifted a sheath of papers, “Looks like the old gang’s back together: Spoon, Pine, Harrier…us.” She cleared her throat, “I’ve missed you, you know. With everything that’s been going on, its been hard to find time to spend together.”

Dray took a draw on his pipe, letting the smoke waft up into the roof of the tent, “I know; sometimes I feel like I’ve not slept for months. Celestia’s backside, I should have been doing more, not bloody paperwork.”

“You had clerks.”

“I know…” Dray waved his hoof dismissively, “but you know what they’re like. If they’d missed something important…”

“Huh!” Wild snorted, “I know what you’re like, you like to micromanage everything!”

“I cannot afford to leave anything to chance, Heather, not now.” The General shook his head, “We don’t have time anyway, and cock ups cost lives.”

“Another Dray-ism?” she asked.

“Absolutely.” Dray smiled.

“It’s a few hours before dawn.” The red mare noted, peering out of the tent flap, “I think we can get a few hours sleep before we have to get up.”

“You sleep, Heather” Dray replied kindly, “I want to have a think.”

“You need sleep, Dray.” She said placing her hoof on his shoulder, “Don’t be long.”

“Mmhmm”, the General smiled up at her before returning to study the map.

The distribution of troops was right, the commands issued, the plans in place. He yawned; if it all went according to plan, they should arrive at River Valley ridge in two days, and then, that was when the real work started. They would…they would have to…He yawned again. Damn it…

The big stallion stretched his legs and got up, putting away his pipe, brandy cups, and gave his face a quick wipe with a damp flannel. His eyes felt sore, his body worn out from years of this sort of hard living. Not that long ago he’d thought he’d put all of this behind him, leaving the whole damned mess of dealing with reports, problems, troop movements, leave requests… So much for retirement! Still, he thought to himself heading for his bedding roll, they were heading for the finale at long last and they were in the best shape they’d been in since Ochre tried to kill them all with his stu-…wha…?! A large red lump was half stretched over his bedding, long legs lounging out and mouth hanging open with a gentle snoring emanating from within. Dray rolled his eyes and gave her a prod,

“Heather? Heather, shift over will you?”

“Hmmphhh.”

“Heather...”

She was completely unresponsive. Dray sighed, what could he do? He chuckled, returning to his chair and collected his cloak. Reaching down, he brushed Wild’s bottle green mane away from her mouth - it was already soaked in drool. It was funny, she was so different to Honey, so much more…’soldierly’. She farted, burped, swore and could fight with the best of them; she almost had as many scars as he did too, and that was saying something! Wild was also, well…how could he put it? Huge. For a mare, she was big, and damned powerful too. She shivered slightly under his touch, murmuring incromprehensibly. With a smile and shake of his head, Dray flicked out his cloak and lay it across her, tucking her in.

A hoof reached out and caught him,

“Dray…?”

The General looked down into a pair of sleepy jade eyes, “It’s alright, Heather, you get back to sleep.”

She shook her head slightly, “It’s your bed, I’ll move.”

“Don’t you dare!” He admonished gently, “Come on now,” he patted her hoof, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She clung on, “Dray…please.” She gazed up at him, “This battle, I may not…if I don’t…you know…”

“Don’t Heather, please.” The grey stallion shook his head, “Don’t talk like this.”

“No.” she sank back onto her pillow, “No, I shouldn’t. But, I…I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll be right here.” Dray said softly.

The cloak lifted up, “It’s warmer together.” Wild’s eyes glistened, “I won’t bite.”

Dray rolled his eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Promise!” Wild chuckled, “Anyway, we’ve slept together before, haven’t we?” She stretched her legs with a smile, “We’re comrades, out in the field, in the freezing cold. It only makes sense to share our warmth.”

Wild smiled as the grey earth stallion snuck under the cloak and blankets, keeping an annoyingly ‘respectful’ distance from her. She’d soon see to that nonsense: a few surreptitious pulls and pushes later, the Major had manouever herself up against the back of her…friend.

“Your back’s freezing.” She murmured.

Dray said nothing.

Pressing herself up against him, Wild draped her legs around him, feeling his warmth against her body and sighed softy,

“Goodnight General.” She whispered.

Dray was already sound asleep. He’d been working around the clock, organising, planning, there just didn’t seem to be any end to it. But now, the acid test for all that work was at hoof, and the Goddesses help them if they were wrong. Wild watched his chest rising and falling rhythmically, his breath slowing as he slept. At least he wasn’t shouting out in his sleep anymore; those awful cries - she shivered. She’d never forget the words, the way he called out to his wife and children as though they were far away and he was trying to reach them. Wild kissed the General’s mane and let herself begin to drift off to sleep beside him. She loved him, but all she could be for him now was a friend. Perhaps one day, the awful memories and ghosts of his past would begin to relinquish their hold on him, but that thought was for another day…another time…

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

Bugle calls were never a good way to wake up.

“Wha? Damn it!” Dray hauled himself to hooves, staggering slightly as he got his bearings, “Buck me! What time…Heather?”

“Morning sleepy, here’s breakfast and a cuppa.” The big red mare passed him a sandwich and a mug of hot sweet tea.

Dray groaned, rubbing his eyes, “Bloody hell, i’ve overslept. I needed to sort out…”

“-It’s done,” Wild cut in, “and you’ve not overslept, it’s only five in the morning.”

She was right. This time of year it was always so bloody dark. Dark in the morning, dark in afternoon, and it was just what those bloody thestrals needed wasn’t it? Thank the Goddesses they’d managed to…

“Oh!” Dray stared down at the sandwich, “Heather…this is…”

Flavour hit him like a flashfire, the tea just seeming to emphasise the taste as well, warming him and lifting his spirits far more than the usual army rations would. He gave her a quizzical look.

“I’m not just a pretty face.” The red mare said with a chuckle, “It’s haybacon, sweetcured and with a hint of salt to season it. Folks back home make it; they’re thinking of marketing it across Equestria some day.”

“It’s…wonderful.” Dray said taking another bite with an almost dreamy look on his face, “You’re a marvel.”

“Ha!” Wild snorted, “Compliments from the General! Is there a medal for breakfast making?”

Dray laughed, “There should be!”

All too soon, the bacon and tea were finished, and only the wonderful aroma remained. Just then a familiar face peeked around the corner of the tent,

“Begging the General’s pardon, Sir, Colonel Spoon sends her regards and wishes to inform you that the supplies you requested have arrived from the castle.”

Dray smiled, “Excellent! Thanks Chipper.”

The short stallion in the entrance saluted, “Very good, sir.”

“Chipper? Just a second…” Dray turned to Wild, “Heather, do we have enough for a spare?”

He poured out a cup of tea and hoofed it to his long time aide while the Major passed him the last sandwich. Chipper groaned in pleasure, quickly casting the two officers an apologetic look, and much to Wild’s amusement.

“Good?” she chuckled.

“Yes! Yes indeed!” Chipper dabbed at his mouth with a hankie, “My compliments to the chef, Major.”

Dray gave his face a wash with the flannel while speaking to his old friend, “What’s the word around camp, Chips, you’ve got your ear to the ground with the troops.”

“I’d say, the feeling is positive, sir, very much so.” The diminutive stallion took a sip of his tea, “There was a lot of uncertainty at first, especially when word of our destination got round, but the boys and girls are spoiling for a chance to wallop those beggars back to…” he waved a hoof, “Wherever it is they come from.”

“The ‘Wither World’ apparently” Wild said. She began to attack her mane with a stiff hair brushing, “Not a nice place I’d guess, if they’re so hell bent on pinching our home.”

“What about the young ones?” Dray asked.

“Keen, but not as they were…before, sir.” Chipper nodded sadly, “They’re distributed amongst the veterans as you requested and the buddying system seems to be working very well in fact.”

That had been the idea of Lieutenant Sands; she had an uncanny knack of making ponies listen to her, young ones especially. Rumour had it that she used to be a teacher before the war and that her whole family had been involved in education in one form or another. Sands had apparently joined with the intention of ‘breaking the mold’, and found herself, as they all had, fighting for her life at River Valley. Whatever the truth actually was, she was a damned good officer and Dray had put her in charge of recruiting. Her idea had been to pair up new recruits with veterans and have the two do everything together: eat, sleep, training, sparring - it had worked surprisingly well despite his reservations. Wild had been concerned that they would effectively ‘dilute’ the army, reducing the veteran divisions with poorer, untrained troops. Of course, this would be true to some degree, but due to heavy casualties several of the divisions now existed mostly on paper and would have been disbanded other than for the influx of new blood. The veterans had been delighted to be able to remain with their old formations and took to training the new ones with, if not exactly ‘enthusiasm’, then at least professionalism. They wanted to win…they thirsted for it. Soon they would be at River Valley once again, and all their work and Sands’ efforts would be put to the ultimate test. Whether they could remain standing in the crucible of war however, remained to be seen, but this was the best chance they had of taking back their home.

All around the camp ponies were moving, the sound a continuous cacophony of clattering, shouting and banging that had never changed in all the years Dray had been in the army. In some small way the familiar noise was almost comforting, but it was what it heralded that buzzed at the corners of his mind, and no doubt that of others who had fought before. Many of these ponies here had never seen battle before, but now could draw courage and confidence from their more experienced comrades. There would be no repeat of what had happened last time. Chipper helped buckle on his sword and packs, cloak and marching boots. Turning to Heather, the mare smiled at him, nodding her approval. With a determination he felt both in his heart and his body, the General strode out into the fresh morning air to face another day on the road.

Marching; it never changes. Mile after mile of slogging through a mixture of frozen ground and mud might seem like sompony’s idea of fun, but there would be few who would agree that pushing yourself to your physical limits and beyond, to the point where your body screamed at you to stop, where your head span and your stomach clenched, was anything but bordering on madness. If this was indeed madness, Dray thought to himself, then they were all deranged…but they’d done it. Days on the road, day and night, tired, physically exhausted and mentally drained - they’d done it. Some, the younger ones unused to the military diet and physical exertion, had been put on the supply wagons until they recovered. Others, the ones used to hard physical work such as farmers and labourers, had fared much better, but it was the veterans, the old hooves, that really drove them on. The old songs had come out too, adding a cadence to their step and a lift to their spirits. The words were familiar, the bawdiness and crude sexual references of many of them just as cringeworthy as they ever had been. Those who didn’t know the words would join in the chorus, even the officers. But now, it was over…

They were here.

A familiar pegasus mare burst from a cloud and flared her wings before coming in to land in front of the General’s party. A halt was ordered, and almost immediately pipes appeared and ponies fell out to the sides of the road to catch their breath and stretch.

“Area’s clear, General Dray.” Harrier said, snapping off a salute, “Our boys are keeping the skies under observation, but we’re keeping to the clouds in case any of the other team decide to wander this way.”

“We’ll be posting forward observers on the far side of the forest” Dray replied, “That way we’ll give ourselves a little breathing room.” He took a deep breath and took her to one side out of earshot of the others, “Harrier, are there any…remains?”

The pegasus shook her head and closed her eyes a moment, “No, none. You’d think nothing had ever happened here. The forest is still a little blackened in places, but for the most part nature’s healed herself of the mess we made of it.” She looked away, a wistful expression crossing her face, “Do you think…they buried them?”

“Maybe” Dray replied, “Honestly, I don’t know. It feels like a lifetime ago I was here last, but…” he sighed, “I don’t want to think about it. Come on,” he clopped her on the shoulder, “let’s get this over with.”

“Aye.” Harrier nodded to him, “Back to work.”

Almost immediately, the troops and engineers went to work. Shovels and picks dug the frozen earth while saws bit through wood and axes cut through trees. Dray was impressed; the troops, both old and new, worked in near silence, a sense of determination emanating from them that was inspirational to see. Officers and non-commissioned officers guided and directed while the engineers discussed their plans. He felt a sudden wave of nostalgia, and also wistfulness as the same time; one day, if he lived to tell the tale, his soldiering days would be over, and all of…this…would be over: the sounds, the smells, the spectacle of ponies in armour, the snapping of banners and the rattle of steel. It seemed a shame somehow, like a piece of his life would simply cease to be, consigned to memory and a hoofnote in some foal’s school book - if they even bothered recording it at all. History was a fickle thing and more often than not ‘sanitised’, or amended to show a skewed view of reality that was more in line with what the rulers wanted their subjects to believe. After all, nopony ever went to war believing the gods did not favour them, and the same was probably true regarding the Legion. He took out his telescope and scanned the horizon over the top of the forest in the valley. Sure enough, just as Harrier had said, It still showed signs of blackening from the fires. One day he would have to answer to the Goddesses for that, and he would tell them the truth: that they were all a bunch of bas-…

“Dray?” A large red muzzle appeared in front of him, “Are you alright?”

The grey stallion laughed, “Why wouldn’t I be, Major?”

“You looked like you were miles away.” Wild said, furrowing her brow in consternation.

“Perhaps…” Dray shrugged, “I’m just wondering how I’ll put this in my memoirs. What should we call it? The ‘Second Battle of River Valley’? how about, ‘The Battle of the Ridge Line’?”

“Getting a bit ahead ourselves a little aren’t we?” Wild chuckled, “We have to kick the crap out of the enemy first.”

“Pfff!” The General laughed, smiling at several of the soldiers nearby who salute him smartly, “Don’t sweat the details, Heather. Can’t you see it? You can feel it all around you: in the air, in the ground and in the grass.” He leaned down and tore a hank grass out and munched on it, drawing the stares of more than a few, “This…” he said turning to them, “This is what we are fighting for: the food we eat, the air we breath and the ground beneath our hooves. This is Equestria, the land where the grass grows as sweet as honey and the water as clear as the purest crystal…” He lifted his voice - more were coming now, “This is my home, it is your home, and it is the home of our children and their children, and it was here, on this ground, where so many of our brothers and sisters shed their blood to defend it…for us…FOR ALL OF US!” Dray took our his sword and drove it into the ground, making several jump back in surprise, “This is my country, this sword is my banner and I will NOT retreat, I will NOT run! Soon, we shall face our enemy and we shall drive their black hearts from our land and bring back the light of hope and joy to our home.” He reared, his eyes flashing in the sunlight, “This…THIS IS WHY WE FIGHT!”

Hooves began to pound the ground, slowly at first and then faster, harder, until the whole ridge rumbled with a great wall of sound. Dray smiled, it would be a good day.

They were going to win.

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

The Colonel stared at his map and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It was as he expected…and feared; they’d positioned themselves on the same ridgeline they’d held last time and they were just sitting there…waiting. Silently, he cursed his luck. The Goddess had ignored his concerns as being completely unfounded and had instead insisted on meeting the enemy here, to ‘crush them once and for all’, which would, ‘send a message to the whole of Equestria about the futility of standing against her’. Questioning her, or contradicting her would have been a death sentence. He had no doubt the Celestians had prepared their defences well, his scouts had manage to tell him that much - those that had survived at any rate. More troubling were the rumours about dragons, and their involvement in the coming battle. He had no fondness for the beasts, but he had to admire their power and brutality and Etrida and her clan would be more than a match for anything the mongrel horde the Princess of the sun could conjure up. Maroc was here too; that pretentious arse wouldn’t miss a fight if his life depended on it, and he’d even brought his wife too: the lady Arathea. He had to admit, she was a fine creature, even if she was one of those demon spawned things.

A frontal attack from the forest and up the ridge line…Inwardly he sighed; many of his people would die here this day. Around him, his officers doubtless shared the same concerns, but of course, avoided voicing any criticism of the Goddess.

“He’s dug in like a flea on a minotaurs back.” The Wing Leader announced, “I doubt we’ll budge him without a full on frontal assault. Nothing piecemeal, the full power of the army, all at once.” He motioned towards the tops of the flags on the ridge, “Their flanks are protected by the forest vegetation and it would take hours to try to get around him.” He lowered his telescope.

“They’ve a good amount of fliers,” another observed, “so they’d likely get wind of any attempts to outflank them.”

“We could besiege them, lock them in there like a rat in a trap and…”

“-No.” Fulminata rolled up his map and stretched his legs and wings, “The Goddess has made her decision. We attack head on.”

Dunn shook his head, “No good, Colonel. Ponies up hill and ready”.

Bale walked up beside Fuminata, his voice low “It’s a bad position, sir. They’ll throw everything at us and we’ll be hemmed in by the terrain.” The Colonel didn’t reply.

“What about our artillery support?” one asked.

The Wing Leader replied, “We’re having to cut through the forest to bring them up to range. We can’t risk a repeat of what happened last time.”

‘Last time…’ The Colonel took a deep breath. This was going to be costly, but with full dragon and artillery support, they could wear the defenders down to the point where there would be only token resistance to their assault.

“Return to your divisions gentlecolts, your orders will be delivered shortly.”

The officers all left with the exception of the Wing Leader,

“It’s a damned shame Thorn isn’t here,” he said, “he would have been useful fellow to have on hoof.”

Fulminata shrugged, “The Goddess’ ways are mysterious, my friend. Now…” he lifted his telescope, “all we need to do is wait until our artillery is in position and await Her Divinity’s command.”

A heavily scarred griffin flew towards them and landed with a thud on the muddied ground, “Bloody awful going, Colonel” he said scratching his neck, “Had a few skirmishers taking pot shots at our boys, but they’ve been dealt with.”

“Progress?”

“We’ll be ready within the hour.” The griffin replied gruffly, “Any news on our supplies?”

Fulminata shook his head, “We’re bringing up what we have.”

The griffin raised an eyebrow watching the thestral with a large golden eye and suddenly cackled loudly, “We’ll manage, Colonel, don’t you worry. Just keep their flying pests off our backs and we’ll blow the crap out of our Celestian friends.”

The rumble of hooves behind them was getting nearer.

“Looks live you’ve got company, Colonel.” The griffin noted casually.

A familiar slim warrior appeared and saluted with a hoof to his chest, “Colonel, Her Divine Majesty has arrived.”

The old griffin snorted, “Time for me to bugger off then! Good luck, Colonel.” With a beat of his wings the veteran Master at Arms lumbered into the air and began a glide back down the slope towards the forest road. Fulminata shook his head and barked out a laugh,

“You think he knows something we don’t?” he turned back to his aide, “Lead the way Edge. Bale? Take care of things here until I return.”

The officers saluted and parted company; It didn’t do to keep the Goddess waiting.
Nightmare Moon’s tent was on the top of the valley, overlooking the site of the last battle in this inauspicious place. They’d put it up in anticipation of her arrival and, sure enough, there were the guards in their royal livery flanking the entrance and the dark purple banners snapping in the cold breeze. A thestral mare in a white dress bobbed her head as he approached,

“This way please, Colonel. Her divine majesty is awaiting your attendance.”

Inside, the tent was just the same as it always was: warm, delicately scented, and dark. Despite the temperature, a feeling of cold dread, but also of anticipation, thrummed through Fulminata whenever he was to meet the Goddess. She was a terrifying creature, but one all her warriors loved as though she were their own mare - although such matters were, naturally, never discussed openly. Nightmare Moon could, and did, visit them in their dreams, whispering of their deeds to come, and to those who had pleased her, there were rewards beyond any worldly wealth.

A black earth pony with grey eyes and a black mane met him with a nod of his head. The look in that Equestrian’s eyes made his hackles go up. How dare he! Looking at him as if he were an equal! Who was this? He looked…familiar. The pony stepped back, sweeping open the long beaded curtain to the chamber beyond. Within, the Goddess was waiting.

Fuminata entered, casting a quick glance at the black earth pony as he passed. That cutie mark…a white lightning bolt. So, he had been marked by the spirits had he? Dear Goddess…nobody deserved that. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for the stallion; it was all he could do.

“Fulmin,” Nightmare Moon stretched out a foreleg for him, “it is good to see you again.”

The Colonel hesitated before bowing and kissing her hoof, “Your Divine Majesty.”

“Our forces are ready?” she asked calmly.

“Within the hour, Your Divinity.” Fulminata kept his eyes lowered, “The Celestians are dug in and prepared on the ridge, but there has been no sign of Celestia.”

The midnight coated mare stretched her legs languorously and gave her mane a shake, sending the stars within its smoky like mass swirling and tumbling through the void. She fixed him with a large azure eye,

“She shall be here, Fulmin,” she smiled, “I have no doubt about that.”

There was something different about the Goddess today, something Fulminata couldn’t quite put his hoof on. She looked the same, sounded the…no…no she didn’t! She sounded ‘softer’…gentler somehow - even the words she chose... He dared to glance across at the black stallion who was sitting patiently nearby. The pony was watching him like a cat watching a mouse, a hidden strength lying within that outwardly placid surface - and those eyes!

“You have met my aide?” The Goddess asked taking a sip of her wine.

Damn it! She’d caught him looking. The Colonel cleared his throat, “Forgive me, Your Divinity, I thought I had met your…aide before.”

The Goddess waved a hoof at the black stallion, “Introduce yourself.”

“I am Moonlight, aide to her Divine Majesty, Nightmare Moon.” The pony said levelly.

The Colonel nodded to him.

“Colonel, I shall be with you shortly.” Nightmare Moon announced, “We shall put down this rebellion and restore order - at the point of a sword if necessary. Those who defy us are to be…eliminated.”

Fulminata bowed, the image of a hungry dragon suddenly materialising in his mind making his throat go dry,

“By your divine guidance.”

“Yes…” the Goddess replied raising an eyebrow, “It is. Leave us.”

The Colonel kept his head low and backed out of Nightmare Moon’s chamber.

Fire crackled in the brazier, reflecting off the silver wine goblet held in the Goddess’s magic. So…here they were again. All the roads with all their divergences lead inexorably to this: the place where it all began, and where it should have ended. This was wrong, all of it was wrong. Celestia had fled the field, the enemy forces had been routed and their new leader surrendered the country, and yet here they were again! Nightmare Moon could feel her chest tightening at the mere thought of it, that…that…

“Majesty?” Bracken lifted a hoof, helping adjust her armour, “Is everything alright?”

The midnight mare gritted her teeth and gave herself a shake to help settle the black and silver plates that lay across her back and neck. He meant well, in fact, he did well. Everything he did made her feel…Damn it, she didn’t have time for this! But…

“Thank you, Bracken.” She said in a voice a lot calmer than she felt, “I want this over and done with quickly so we can begin to rebuild Equestria the way it should have been right from the beginning.”

The black stallion remained quiet.

One piece after another, the engraved armour was strapped and buckled into position, the earth stallion’s hooves and mouth working with surprising dexterity for a non-magical creature. He’d been what, a blacksmith? A metal worker? She would need to spend much more time with him after this getting to know him better, to understand him…thoroughly. She’d seen his dreams of course, reading his mind and emotions like an open book. Inevitably, some ‘adaptations’ had been made, but that was…natural. In a way she hated it, but the result was standing before her, and he…did he…love her? She wanted to hear it from him, she needed to hear it. So many of her subjects thought it, even felt it in their hearts, but it never quite seemed sincere; more ‘a requirement’ than anything else. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the last piece of armour was attached,

“Bracken…” she murmured.

He hadn’t heard her, “All done, You Majesty.” The black stallion stood back, checking all was as it should be and nodded his head solemnly, “How does it feel?”

“It feels…” Nightmare Moon said distractedly, “Yes…”

“Your Majesty?”

She turned back to him, “Bracken, I want to hear…” she shuddered, looking towards the door and the large battle scythe beside it, the daylight making its sharp edge glow. Something brushed up against her cheek making her close her eyes and groan.

“I don’t need to say it, do I?” he asked softly.

“No…” The Goddess replied, “But I want you to.”

Bracken gave a sad smile, “I love you.”

Nightmare Moon moved to embrace him and paused. With the armour on, she could hurt him, but there was something she could do. She reached down and kissed him,

“I know.”

The Goddess of the night pulled him towards her, gently, feeling his warmth against her cheek and smiled,

“Stay here, and stay safe. I’ll be back soon.”

A black coated foreleg reached out blocking her passage, “Majesty, I want to fight beside you.”

The Goddess shook her head; he looked so sincere! “You have wings now?” she chuckled, “No. The enemy may target you, which is why, my dearest Bracken, that to the rest of the world, at least for now, you are ‘Moonlight’, personal aide to Nightmare Moon.” She stood back and raised an eyebrow, stroking his hair, “I do prefer your natural blue mane and tail, but the dye will grow out soon enough.” Yes…soon enough, she thought to herself wanly, soon it would all be over and she, they, all of them, could have the world they should have had. The Goddess ruffled her wings and gave Bracken a knowing wink before walking out to meet her army.

He watched.

Bracken had seen this before; in another time, another place, and…another…mare? No… He sighed and took a breath, trying to clear his mind. The image of a grinning Chalky appeared in his minds eye as if trying to encourage him. Bracken smiled; he missed him - his cheeky and hopeless friend, the crazy white unicorn. Mind you, they were all a bit cracked; it must have been something to do with all that magic addling their brains. That had to be it - there was usually a logical answer to a problem if you just applied your mind to the task. Nightmare Moon however, was something of an exception to that rule. She was…well, who she was, he supposed. She was beautiful, magnificent and terrifying in equal measure. He loved her, and yet…he didn’t really know why. Did it matter? Did any of it matter? He’d lost…what was her name? Bracken shook his head and attacked the itch on his ear - why was he having so much trouble remembering things lately? Was he going senile already? He shrugged and returned to tidying the tent. The Celestians would be relegated to a footnote in history soon enough, and become little more than a distant memory of a time that seemed almost like a dream. His time in the army, the ponies he’d met - they all felt as if they’d happened to somepony else in a different world. Bracken poured himself a glass of water,

“Come on, ‘Moonlight’” he said to himself shaking his mane, “There’s tidying to do.”

The thestral maids would have done it, certainly, but there was nothing quite like the personal touch. Nightmare Moon’s scent too…it lingered on the cushions, on the chaise longue and in the very air. He loved her, he needed her, and he would be here to welcome her home with a smile when she returned; even if it was a tent. He smiled to himself - no, it wouldn’t be long.

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

The Princess’s gold shod hooves clacked on the stone steps, echoing off the cold walls and sounded unnaturally loud even to her. Her armour felt…strange. She hadn’t worn it since she’d last seen Rush, and it had brought back a flood of emotion. She felt sorry for her maid too. Poor Lilly, she had barely said a single word; instead she’d simply smiled, holding each piece of the armour in place as she clipped, strapped and buckled it on. Of course, Celestia could have done it herself, but she wanted the closeness of another pony, somepony who understood her. Lilly was the nearest she had to that: a friend, a confidant, but even she didn’t know about Rush…nopony could…not yet. In some ways she was glad he wasn’t here; nopony should have to experience, let alone see, the horrors that were about to be unleashed - horrors that monster Nightmare Moon had brought to her homeland.

Lilly had looked at her, her large eyes so full of sadness to see her Princess leave, perhaps, for the last time. She’d tried to hide it from her, but Celestia had known, she’d seen the orange mare weeping silently as the alicorn had kissed her gently on the forehead. Celestia closed her eyes a moment and calmed her heart. She had to win this, they had to win this, so there would be no more tears of anguish and pain in this once beautiful land. But what of her? Who cared about the white alicorn Princess? Who knew her heart, truly? There was one…but he was so far away from here it felt like the memory of a dream. Oh, how she longed to hold him now, to hear his voice once more and simply…talk. She was lonely…she knew that, she had known it for such a long time, despite the smiles and happy waving of her people. They all saw her as the immortal Princess of the sun, never seeing the mare beneath, the mare who felt happiness, sorrow, joy and pain as much as any of them. Perhaps…even more. Their lives came and went so quickly, so brief, like a mayfly flitting across the surface of a pond looking for a mate…only to die. Rush would die too…one day. She felt a single tear roll down her cheek; who would ever truly understand her heart? Who could?

The weight of her duty, her responsibility was like a millstone, making even the armour feel heavier than ever. Thank the Gods there was at least a glimmer of hope, even if it was only the tiniest of sparks, and that spark lay beyond the large heavy oak door with its black iron furniture. The guards were still here, no doubt anxious to be in the fight with their brothers and sisters, especially with the castle now all but empty. It was a blessing in some respects that at least these two would be spared. Unless…

The guards snapped to attention at her approach.

“Just a minute!” Starswirl’s muffled voice called through the door at the Princess’s knock. “Alright, you can come in now.”

Celestia pushed open the heavy door to…absolute chaos. Bottle, jars, wires and equipment of every size and shape, filled the room to bursting. In the middle of it all stood a bedraggled and excited looking grey unicorn with a pipe sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Princess!” Starswirl waved a hoof as he jumped up from behind a pile of books, “So good to see you! I’ll be with you as soon as i…bugger!”

The enigmatic mage squeezed and heaved himself between masses of, what the Princess could only describe as ‘junk’, tripping and cursing as he came. Finally, with a huff and a quick brush of his straggly beard, the mage stood before her with a broad grin on his face.

Celestia’s nose wrinkled up as a foul odour assailed her.

He stank.

“Master Starswirl,” The Princess said, lifting a hoof to her nose, “forgive me, but…how long have you been in here?”

The unicorn shrugged, “A few days…a week maybe.” He lifted his cape and sniffed at it, “Ah…” he looked a little embarrassed, “Sorry about that. Just a mo…”

Celestia rolled her eyes as the bizarre creature vanished back into the warren of arcane items. A few moments later, she heard water splashing,

“Won’t be long!” he called, “Just having a freshen up. Feel free to have a look round if you fancy, but don’t touch anything!”

The Princess sighed, “Where’s Strata?”

“Eh?” The splashing water muffled the reply.

“I said where’s Strata?” Celestia shouted, “He…he’s not in here somewhere is he?” Dear Gods, with all this clutter it was entirely possible!

“Oh goodness me, no!” The voice called back, “He’s gone off with his earth pony chum in their sky galleon on a trip somewhere. Asked me if I wanted him to stay of course, but I tend to work best alone, don’t you know.”

“And how is your work, Master Starswirl?” Celestia shouted, “Any progress?”

“Oh yes!” came the reply, “The library has been invaluable, invaluable!” the voice paused, “I have to say, there’s still a long way to go to fully understand it all, but I think we’re getting there.” A slightly damp grey figure re-emerged, rubbing himself down with a towel, “There we go - not so whiffy now, eh?”

“Um…no.” Celestia backed away a step, trying not to laugh at the sight of the bedraggled unicorn rubbing himself with a large towel.

“Well, we’ve found how the matrix can link to different places in Equestria…” he floated over a rather dried up looking sandwich and took a bite absently, “Mmph…and…” he swallowed, “this allows us to re-route the portal’s exit location to a pre-defined set of…” he wiped his muzzle.

“Starswirl?” the Princess cut in, “I know. You’ve done a wonderful job so far, but what of our special project?”

“Ah…well.” Starswirl looked a little sheepish all of a sudden, “I’m not sure about that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well, you see, it’s because I don’t know the actual co-ordinates of where you exited.” He stuffed a corner of the towel in his ear, “This world you went to could be another planet or another dimension, and this portal can take you anywhere. Your spell, the one you used to escape, can take you literally anywhere too – the possible combinations are staggering”

Celestia’s heart sank, “So…it’s hopeless…”

“Oh, goodness, no!” Starswirl said suddenly, clopping a hoof on her armoured shoulder, “We must never give up. There are a lot more things I haven’t tried yet, including one I’m very excited about too!” he trotted over to a large glass and bronze dish that was itself attached to numerous gem studded boxes and…other things. “This is a scrying glass, usually used for observing places or events. Now…” he said munching down another piece of sandwich, “by re-routing the sub-ether cortex, I can…”

Celestia cleared her throat loudly.

“Oh…sorry.” Starswirl licked some crumbs from his mouth, “You see, if I had something that had some residue, a memory even, of the place you went, I should be able to place it in this device and find the co-ordinates through the trans-ether harmonic divinatory,” he motioned towards another assemblage of tubes and cables, “Some…um…assembly may be required.”

“So...” Celestia said raising an eyebrow, “If I’m following you, then…if you had something that was from that world, you could link our portal to that world?”

“Mmm, pretty much.” Starswirl said waving a hoof. He pushed his way over to the portal steps and looked up at it, calling back to her, “Stone remembers” he shouted back, “An earth pony told me that once. Load of old bollocks, I told him, but would you believe, the silly old bugger was on to something!” he tapped a book beside him, “Quite clever some of them. I may have to re-think what I’ve always thought about them, but…” he shrugged, “I can do that another day.”

Celestia’s heart surged, “Wait…so, If I found you this ‘something’, you could do this? You could actually open the portal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Just like that?”

“Mmhmm” Starswirl brushed a few crumbs from his coat, “Ah, sod it! Cranberry’s a bugger to get out of…Argh!”

The Princess suddenly bore down on him, her wings flared and her eyes glowing brightly, “You can do this? You can open the portal to the human realm?”

“Well…er…yes,” Starswirl stammered looking up at her, “I should be able to, but it’s not going to take five minutes you know and I have a lot to do first. The apparatus needs calibrating and…”

Celestia felt a heat burning through her, her magic surging and all but singing in hope for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Impulsively, she grabbed the unicorn and squeezed him to her chest,

“Oh, dear Master Starswirl…thank you…thank you!”

“Ah, yes, yes no trouble, Your Majesty, no trouble at all really.” The still damp and crumb covered unicorn looked up at the alicorn in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed, “Er…” he suddenly seemed to notice her for the first time, “Why are you wearing that?” he motioned towards her armour.

The Princess shook her head, “Because as you have your work to attend to, my dear unicorn, I have to attend to mine.” She smiled, “When I return, I shall have what it is you need. For now, please…” she waved a hoof, “continue.” She turned back to the door, “Oh…Starswirl?”

“Hmm?” he said, already muzzle deep in more work.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Me?” he looked up suddenly, “No…not really, although, there have been mares…” he trailed off giving her a quizzical look, “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Celestia grinned, her cheeks flushing, “No reason at all.”

It was time to go, but at least now…now there was hope - not for her people this time…this was just for her. She smiled and bobbed her head to the wizard,

“Stay safe, Master Starswirl.”

There was no reply; Starswirl was already engrossed in tweaking instruments while muttering to himself. The Princess smiled and shook her head; he really was hopeless…and the best chance she had of bringing her lost pony home. She closed her eyes and gave herself a quick shake, feeling the weight of both the armour and her responsibility as leader of Equestria. Normally she paid such matters little heed, they were simply a part of who and what she was, but today, with the terrible conflict bearing down upon them all like some dread avalanche, the future held more than just pain and suffering…it held hope, and she would be damned before she saw it snuffed out by the likes of that demon from the Wither World. Celestia gritted her teeth, steeled her soul and strode out of the castle and into the waiting carriage. There was no ceremony, no fanfare nor waving crowds - no…now, it was time to go to work.

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

The young mare bowed low as the Princess passed her in the entrance, her blue and silver mane tied into neat plaits either side of her neck. She trotted over to one of the guards and smiled,

“Excuse me sir, I’m looking for my brother, Corporal Parity?”

“Parity?” the guard said scratching his chin, “Never ‘eard of ‘im.”

“Yes you have, numb nuts,” the taller guard replied, “he’s the one with the ear missing, you know…”

“Old one lug?” The guard laughed, “E’s down in the dungeons miss, you can’t go in there.” He shook his head and looked away, dismissing her.

“But sir,” the mare said plaintively, “I’ve brought him his dinner. Mum said he didn’t get fed well at the barracks and…”

The burly guard snorted, “Hah! You got that right! I wouldn’t feed that to pigs.”

“Tell you what miss,” the taller guard said, “leave it with us and we’ll make sure he gets it.”

“Oh sir!” the mare giggled, “You’d eat all my treats!”

“Hmm…” the burly guard said eyeing the mare lasciviously, “I’d rather eat you instead…”

She lifted a hoof to her mouth, flushing coyly and giggled, “Sir! Goodness, me! But…” she moved closer, looking up at him with her large orange eyes, “you’re such a big soldier and, you know, if we…did ‘that’…you would you let me see my brother, wouldn’t you?” she turned away shyly, flicking her tail provocatively.

“Damned straight!” the big guard nodded towards his colleague, “Slim, you look after things here, I’ll be back in a while. I have to give our guest the grand tour.”

“We’re supposed to be on guard, Figs!” the tall guard exclaimed irritably.

Figs just shrugged, “For bucks sake, she’s just dropping off cakes. Tell you what, I’ll frisk her first - would that satisfy you?”

Slim huffed, “Just get on with it, will you?” He looked away at the squeaks and giggles coming from the two and sighed as he leaned on his spear. It was bad enough being relegated to ‘rear echelon’ duty because they were considered too old to fight, but they still had a job to do. That said though, everypony was off fighting, so what would be the point of attacking the castle now?

“Nothing on her, Slim, just the cakes.” Figs reported.

The tall one clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. It was always the same - they always went for the muscular types,

“Right…you two bugger off and have fun then, don’t mind me.”

“We won’t!” Figs laughed, trotting off down the corridor, his foreleg around the young mare.

Figs couldn’t believe his luck - what a catch! He’d always kept himself in trim of course, well…mostly, and this posting had been a nice final run up to retirement. Girls loved the uniform, and even though he may be past his youthful prime, the white coat and gold armour did it every time. With the castle all but empty, a quick bit of frolicking with the young mare would be just the ticket on a cold day. Nopony would care, they’d have done the same in his shoes he reasoned.

“In here, miss.” He smiled, and pushed open the door to the cleaners supply room.

“Oh, it smells nice in here!” she said happily, trotting in after him.

The guard raised an eyebrow, “There’s spare blankets and pillow in here. We wouldn’t want you to get cold now, would we?”

The mare giggled, her eyes glinting in the light of the lantern the big guard had brought in with them. She watched as he took down one of the blankets and lay it on the floor and settled down on it, patting it,

“You come and sit next to me, flower,” he said smoothly, “let me have a proper look at you.”

“Well…” she teased, hiding behind her basket, “wouldn’t you like to try one of my biscuits first?”

“No, I’ve got other things in mind for you miss” Figs smirked, “we can keep them for…later.”

The mare hung her head, “Oh…and I spent so long baking these too. I wanted somepony to try one and see if they liked it, that was all…” she looked towards the door sadly, “Maybe I was…”

Figs rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll try one.”

The mare clopped her hooves together, “Oh goody! Now, try the one with the raisins in it.”

With a sigh, the large stallion took the proffered biscuit and sniffed it - it really did smell delicious too. He took a bite, quickly wolfing the rest down.

“You made these yourself?” he asked, licking the crumbs from his muzzle.

“I did.” The mare said with a smile, “It took me quite a bit of time and research to get the recipe right, but I think you’ll agree, the end result was worth the effort.”

“Mmm…” Figs yawned. Goddesses, he was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. The room seemed to be dimming around him too, the mare’s big orange eyes looming large over him.

“The secret ingredient,” she said quietly, “is love.”

The guard sank to the floor, twitched once, and then was still.

“And slumber vine petals.” She grinned, “odourless, tasteless, and efficacious.” Rising to her hooves, she opened the door and peered out into the corridor before racing off towards the dungeons. They weren’t hard to find, she’d been here in the past with school visits, and later, as a scholar, it had been simplicity itself to talk her way in to access the library and learn the castles secrets. She leaned up and pulled the bronze sconce, revealing the narrow doorway behind the tapestry. Slipping in, she followed the dark passageway by the light of the guards lantern. He wouldn’t be needing it now, and in a few hours he’d wake up and have forgotten all about her. The Goddess had guided her well.

The passage was surprisingly dry, if a little musty, but fortunately not quite as long as she’d expected. It ended in a blank wall - blank except for a loose stone, that once pressed, unlocked the hinge mechanism and allowed her into the far back of the dungeon. Nopony knew about these secret passages except the Princesses, and the castle was littered with them. Why they had been built and for what purpose was probably lost in time; there certainly wasn’t any mention of them in the histories of the castle’s construction, and she’d researched that thoroughly. She poked her muzzle out into the corridor; It was clear, with nothing to see except a few flickering lanterns and the cells. Here and there were snores and grunts - no doubt drunks sleeping off another night of revelry in the town or other misdemeanours - Equestria wasn’t exactly noted for its harsh judicial system nor its crime. Ponies were, if nothing else, well behaved creatures for the most part, like drones their Queen, the all powerful Princess of the sun. It was time for change - they had to move on or else the country would stagnate and die, or worse, fall prey to the large and powerful empires surrounding it. Celestia and her idyllic world needed the strength that only unity with the true Goddess could achieve.

The cell she wanted was in near complete darkness - only the faint glow of two tiny blue-white fires within spoke of the sole occupant. The purple mare slipped her hair pin from her plaits, and deftly unscrewed the end before pouring the slightly smoking contents into the lock. A barely perceptible fizzing and hissing sound was the only noise other than the creak of the door as it opened enough for her to squeeze inside.

In the darkness, the fires burned brightly, the smell of smoke wafting up and catching in Nutmeg’s nose. A voice, alien and distant spoke,

“Here to stare, Equestrian?”

“The Goddess sent me,” the purple mare replied, “come, we have little time.”

A scrabbling of hooves and the thestral was up, moving towards her, “The Goddess? She has sent…you?”

Nutmeg stared into the strange eyes of the nightmarish beast. Most would probably have been terrified of the thing, the large leathery creature with dragon like wings and teeth that could bite your head off in one snap. Or so the stories she’d heard around the capital said at least; the reality, if anypony had bothered to do their research, was quite different. Still, they were dangerous creatures, and of that fact she had no doubts whatsoever. She nodded to the beast,

“You are Wave?”

The eyes glowed brighter, “I am Second Wing Leader Wave, Equestrian.”

“Then in the name of the Goddess of the moon, you are to follow me, do you understand?”

“Aye.” The thestral moved closer, “And how do I know I can believe this is not some sort of Celestian trick? You have some way to prove Her Divinity sent you?”

The Goddess had said this could happen - it wasn’t exactly unexpected either. After all, she just appears from nowhere, opens the cell and says ‘follow me’? Nutmeg took a breath, reciting the words Nightmare Moon had told her,

“Her Divine Majesty said to tell you that ‘the waters of the crystal lake ripple with the tears of the Gods.’”

Wave’s eyes flared like signal fires, “Then there is no more time to lose. Lead the way.”

Back out of the door, the two made for the secret passageway as quietly as ghosts, the straw on the floor dulling their hoofsteps. Wave kept close behind her, her presence strangely reassuring. The corridors and passageways, the secret ways to bypass guards - they were all just as the Goddess had explained to her in her dreams, until they came to the final corridor. Nutmeg held a hoof up in warning and the two moved back down into the passage,

“What is it?” Wave whispered.

“Guards, two of them outside the room we need to be in.”

“You have a weapon?” the black coated warrior asked.

Nutmeg shook her head, “No, but I have these.” She lifted her basket, “It worked once, it can work again.” She took a deep breath, “Wait here.”

These guards though were a different breed to the ones she’d encountered earlier. They looked alert, ready and watched her approach with keen eyes,

“HALT!” one of them barked, “This corridor is off limits.”

“Sir,” the mare said quietly, “I’ve been sent by my mother to give out biscuits to the guards in the castle as thanks for their hard work in the fight against the Legion.” She lifted the basket, “Would you like one?”

“This corridor is off limits to civilians.” the soldier re-iterated, “If you have business with the castle garrison, see the gate guard.”

“I have sir, and they said I could give out my mother’s biscuits to…”

“Leave!” the other guard snapped, “Or I’ll have you thrown in the dungeons for…”

The guards eyes went wide in shock,

“Thestr…” he never had a chance to finish as the black shape tore into him.

Nutmeg hid her face, closed her eyes and squeezed herself against the wall. If only she could have blocked her ears too…

“Come on!” Wave ordered, grabbing the purple mare by her neck, “Let’s do what we came here to do and get out of here.”

Nutmeg squeaked involuntarily as her hoof stood in something…wet. She swallowed nervously and hurried to the door at the end of the corridor without looking down. Taking a breath, she tried to calm her racing heart; there was a job to do, the Goddess had commanded her and…she blinked…

“By the Goddess…”

The room was immense, laid out with row upon row of jars, bottles, glowing pipes and tubes seemingly interconnecting everything. There were crates too: crates of what looked like empty eggshells - metal eggshells. She scratched her chin; was this what the goddess wanted her to…

“Magical explosive.” Wave said, her eyes wide, “I’ve seen it before, but…this looks different somehow.”

“We have to destroy it,” Nutmeg explained, “putting down her basket and breaking open one of the biscuits. She held up a small brass rod.

“Whats that?” Wave asked curiously.

“Acid. It will burn through the cap once activated and react with the explosive. In theory, it should start a cascade reaction.”

“Should?” The thestral huffed angrily, “These…things are being used to kill my brothers and sisters, and you say it ‘should’ work?”

“I followed the instructions the Goddess gave me.” Nutmeg said in a haughty voice, “It will give us time to get out.”

Wave snorted, “How Equestrian.” She glowered at the mare, “Time to flee, yes?”

“Yes! To fight on for Her Divine Majesty!” Nutmeg said, stomping a hoof, “Come on, Wave, let’s do this and get out of…”

The door burst open,

“There they are! Kill them!” The guards raced into the room, swords and spears flashing.

Screaming, shouts, neighs and the sound of breaking glass filled the room as Nutmeg dove under one of the work benches, cowering in fright while the battle raged around her. There was a burst of flame, a loud grunt and the smoking body of one of the guards landed beside her. She covered her mouth with her hoof, suppressing a cry of fright, yet as quickly as it had started, the room fell deathly silent. Seconds passed before she dared poke her muzzle out of her hiding place to peer around her,

“Wave?” she hissed, “Wave, are you there?”

Silence.

Her knees still trembling, Nutmeg slowly emerged from under the work bench and gasped at the scene of carnage around her. There was blood, lots and lots of blood! Dead ponies, guards, lay scattered around the room amongst the wreckage of the equipment she’d seen so neatly arranged only moments earlier. Now it looked…like a scene from hell. She took a breath, trying to calm her heart - she still had to finish her mission and get out of here before more guards came. Taking out the brass device she froze - something was moving, there, amongst the shattered glass…

“E…Equestrian…”

The thestral was still alive? By the Goddess, the creature had been cut to ribbons and was still alive…barely.

“Wave?” Nutmeg moved closer, “Can you stand?”

“No…my body is…broken.” Wave coughed a gobbet of blood, “Give me…” she squeezed her eyes shut a moment before speaking, “…the device.”

Nutmeg shook her head, “The Goddess gave me this task, I have to…”

“I know.” The thestral wheezed, “I’ll do it. If…it doesn’t work, I’ll make sure…”

“You’re going to stay here?” Nutmeg’s eyes went wide, “But…you’ll die.”

Wave spat out a mouthful of blood, producing one of the egg-like things, “We all die one day, Equestrian,” she said distantly, “it’s how we die that is important.”

Nutmeg wasn’t so sure - she preferred to live, and right now she wanted to get as far away from here and the stench of death as she could.

“I’m sorry, Wave.”

The thestral smiled faintly and nodded, watching the pony turn and run out of the door. She didn’t mind really, that young mare was no warrior - not like these guards had been. If only she’d had her armour and axe, she’d have made short work of them and be following her ally out of this accursed place. As it was, those damned ponies had done more enough damage and she could feel her life slowly draining away. Typical Celestian’s, they couldn’t finish a job properly, could they? She snorted out a bitter laugh; she’d wanted to see the end of the war, but not like this, not…dying on some stone floor in the middle of…She sighed; in the end, she’d done her duty hadn’t she? And that, that was what really mattered. She snapped the brass tube, holding it over the egg like things and waited. She wasn’t sure whether it would work or not, but if it didn’t, she had enough fire left in her to make sure she left her mark upon this world. The thestral warrior smiled: Wave, Second Wing Leader of the Legion, would die well.

Comments

[supersport]

Finally we get more Thorn! The Climax seems to be fast approaching, and it's shaping up to be one heck of a doozy. Amazing stuff man, I only get a few chances to sit down and read so I binged from 41 to here in 1 day and it had me hooked the whole time.

Now then, a couple of things I'd like to mention since I last commented:
The scene change from Bracken and Chalk re-enlisting to them being in the frozen north was a little abrupt. I had to look back to make sure I didn't miss anything, not necessarily that bad of a thing as it was eventually explained, it was just a little jarring to me.
In this chapter I don't recall you saying how NMM found out about those egg bombs or how they worked, as such that whole last scene felt a little rushed and forced.

[Bluespectre]

7083304 Thanks for the comments, and I'm really glad you're enjoying it. I know what you mean about the scene change though, and i'll admit I was a bit unsure myself about whether i should leave it there or shift the whole chapter further into the story. I've read in comments from other people in other stories that this style is not universally popular and I can understand that. I'd be reticent to change it now however, especially as everything is pretty much finished, but i'll certainly take that on board for the next story.

The last scene with Nutmeg was deliberately written that way, but I understand how it could be seen as coming a bit 'out of left field' so to speak. I wanted to try and feed into the story, overall, an undercurrent of the 'children of the night' acting behind the scenes as a sort of 'eyes and ears' of NMM. This is touched upon several times, but i didn't want to be overly explanatory about it. The next chapter does clarify the situation with Nutmeg and NMM more, but i don't want to ruin it for you by explaining too much here! The next chapter is the big one though, and one i tried to tie in with both events in Fairlight and the TV series. I hope it works, and I hope you like it too.

As always, i really appreciate the time you've taken to make comments and i promise, i do pay attention to what's said! I'll bash on with the editing and i'll get it posted either later today or sometime this weekend.

Kindest Regards,

Bluespectre

[Truthseeker]

She looked away, a wistful expression crossing her face, “Do you think…they buried them?”

We, the readers know what happened. The Thestrals fed the dead to the Dragons.

And what fucking right does Fulminata have to be upset about the Equestrians killing the wounded? The Thestrals murdered prisoners. Fucking hypocrite.

I REALLY hope somebody kills that Nutmeg cunt. She needs to die, slowly and painfully.