Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Fifty Five - The End of the World

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

THE END OF THE WORLD

Thorn pulled his muzzle out of the bush with a start. A number of sticky round ‘things’ had detached themselves from the plant and had stuck to his leathery hide while he slept; now the damned things pulled painfully when he tried to brush them off. Quickly he sat up and found himself staring up into the eyes of a familiar long haired tribal mare.

“Breakfast.” She said in a monotone voice, “You want any or not?”

Thankfully, his mess kit clean and near to hoof, the Major lifted his pail up to receive a dollop of what he hoped was meat and potatoes. The mare was swathed in bandages, her eye swollen and her lip still puffed up - clear signs of the brutality of the attack by the crazed green warrior. How she was still alive, let alone up and working, was either thanks to the Goddess’s blessing or her own bloody mindedness. Knowing the northern tribes though, it was probably the latter. She was already walking away.

“Not even going to ask my name?”

Thorn looked up from his breakfast at the mares enquiry. He frowned, “I’m sorry?”

The mare glared over her shoulder at him, “I’m not surprised. You thestrals see all of us as little more than fodder for your damned war. We’re like cattle to you, aren’t we?”

He watched her for a moment, and shrugged, “I expect you would have told me your name already if you actually wanted me to know it.” He raised an eyebrow, “Do you know mine?”

The mare snorted, “Everypony knows who you are, Storm Major. Killing makes a fine bedfellow for fame.”

Thorn took a mouthful of his breakfast and nodded, chewing thoughtfully, “True…true…” he tapped his hoof on the edge of the mess pail, “Very good this morning, Miss…?”

“Umbra” she said calmly, “It means…”

“I know what it means.” Thorn cut in, “Now, if you don’t mind, Umbra, I have to get back to eating your fine breakfast so I can recover my strength.” He gave her a pointed look, “You never know when i’ll be needed to get back to killing in my damned war.”

The mare glared daggers at him and moved to walk away.

“A last word of advice, Miss.” Thorn called to her, “I would suggest you keep any such potentially ‘controversial’ considerations to yourself. I would hate to see such a pretty mare hang.”

Umbra paled, and silently trotted away to see to the others. Foolish creature, Thorn thought to himself irritably; she may not like the Legion, but she was still a part of it whether she liked it or not. He scraped the last of the gloop from the bottom of the pail; It wasn’t bad at all actually, and a little seasoning really did help lift the flavour - if you could actually call it that. A quick walk to the stream to wash up, clean the mess kit…it was the same every day - the same boring routine. By the Goddess they were moving slowly, and every step, every second, every minute and every hour, took them nearer home and further from where he should be – ‘killing’ for the Goddess. He felt a shiver run through him…that stupid mare…

Back in the column they soon began to move out once more, trudging along the same endless dirt road with their heads down, tired and defeated. More of them had died during the night and others wouldn’t see the end of another day despite the best ministrations of the healers. These had once been strong warriors, the best the Beyond, the Purple Sands and the Broken Cliff tribes could offer, yet they dropped like flies. It had ceased to be a surprise now: hopelessness, weakness, sickness…these were not the domain of a proud thestral, and yet, here they were, walking along, dying one by one. Was he next? Thorn closed his eyes, listening to the coughing and wheezing of the sick and wounded, the creak of the wagons and the steady thud, thud, thud of their hooves in the cold clinging mud. He used to dream of this place, this Equestrian promised land, the land of their ancestors. Now, it was a hell of misery and emptiness. He wanted to go home; he’d lost his adoptive father here, and hadn’t even been there to sing him to the next world. It was a regret he would carry with him, as much as his armour - a weight on both his heart and his soul.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, the darkness around them enclosing the warriors like a shroud. All around them, the forest, that endless damned forest - why did a place need to have so many trees? Thorn felt an urge to run, to stretch his legs and gallop. Days of slowly walking along with silent companions was beginning to affect him. Goddess damn him, he’d even tried to get them to sing some of the old songs to help lift their hearts but it had been like staring into the eyes of the dead, and now he found himself settling down for the night well away from the rest of them once again. Thorn slumped down by a tree and settled into his blankets. Taking a breath he tried to make himself comfortable and empty his mind.

A twig snapped: somebody was coming.

“I’ll see to this one.”

It was the long haired mare.

“Good evening, Umbra.” Thorn said quietly, “What’s on the menu tonight?”

The dark coated mare brushed her mane out of her eyes and passed him a steaming mess pail, “It’s stew.” She reached back into her pannier, “And a sweet roll.”

This was different! The smell hit him like a sledgehammer. Meat! And gravy too! He closed his eyes and took in the delicious aroma,

“Thank you”, he whispered.

“Thanking the Goddess? Or me?” Umbra replied with a toss of her mane.

Thorn took a mouthful and immediately felt the warming food send a tingle of energy and strength through his tired body. He looked up into Umbra’s large eyes,

“Both.” He smiled at her, “How’s the neck?”

“Better.” She replied quietly, “The silver staples will need to stay in for a few days though.”

Thorn nodded, “You’ll have a scar, but your fur will grow back in a month or so.”

“Worried about my appearance?” Umbra said with a sniff, “I didn’t think you thestrals would care about such things.”

The Major cocked his head to one side, “You say the name ‘Thestral’ as if we were beasts. Do you really hate us so much?” he took another mouthful of the stew and chewed thoughtfully, “We have feelings, Umbra, hopes and dreams, just like you.”

“My mother…my…father…” her voice sounded strained and distant.

Thorn nodded, “I know what it is to lose one you’re close to.” He said quietly, “I lost my parents to war.” The Major shrugged, “It is the way of the things.”

“But it shouldn’t have to be!” Umbra said angrily, “Killing, killing, killing! Is that all everypony thinks about now? Is this why we’re here? Simply to kill each other?”

“It is our way.” Thorn replied, “But when the war is over…” he stared up into the starry sky and smiled, “I would like to have my own farm, to till the land and watch as life grows anew from beneath the sun and the moon of our Goddess.” He gave an ironic laugh, “It is a dream, nothing more.”

“Umbra?” A voice called from the road.

“Coming.” She replied standing back up. She looked back at Thorn, “I…I hope your dreams come true some day, Major.” She said sadly, “I really do.” And with that, she trotted off towards her colleague.

Thorn shrugged and snuggled himself into his blanket with a loud yawn. By the Goddess he felt so tired! The food had been so wonderful, so warming and filling - all he wanted was to stretch and curl up for a good sleep. He yawned and sighed happily - food like that would give him his strength back, and then he would be able to return to the Colonel, where he should be. He closed his eyes, making sure he was well covered and also well away from anymore of those bloody sticky bushes! There would none of them on his farm, none at all. Damned things…

Sunlight drifted in through the windows of his home, warming his face. His farm was doing well these days. The crops were coming in nicely and the pigs fattening. She didn’t like it of course, but the girls helped him with that side of things. They were growing so fast! It had been hard work too, what with building the farm from scratch, but with help from his friends and neighbours they’d had a roof over their heads in no time. Naturally, it still needed some furnishings, but a trip to market would soon see to that, and they would a have nice return on their produce too: long ears of golden wheat, delicious juicy red apples and prime cuts of meat for the griffin and thestral traders. He sighed, closing his eyes and smiled as a pair of warm forelegs slipped around his neck,

“Good morning love.” She said into his ear with a playful nip, “You’re up bright and early.”

Thorn chuckled, “We have to bring in the harvest today.” He glanced towards the door where their daughters were chasing each other round with sticks they’d taken from beside the fire.

“Hoy!” his wife shouted, “Stop that, or somepony will get hurt!”

“No we won’t!” one shouted out, just as her sister cracked her right on the head, “OW! Oooh!” And then the crying started. It was time for a hasty retreat. Thorn wasn’t good with that side of things, in fact he had very little experience with foals at all and felt that whenever he tried to help, he only ever made matters worse. His wife gave him a long suffering look as he slipped from the kitchen into the living room out of the way. Years of war, years of battle, suffering, and pain had taken their toll; thestrals were born into the world with an expectation they would become warriors, not mothers, fathers, farmers…

He stared up at his old battle axe hanging above the fireplace. It was ancient, like his ancestral armour that stood in the corner of the study. Like him, it had been steeped in blood, caused nothing but pain and suffering…and for what? Why did they do this? Did they really have to…to kill each other? Umbra…she walked up beside him and looked into his eyes,

“Love? Are you alright?”

Thorn opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak.

“Daddy? Daddy are you okay? Mummy! Mummy I’m scared!”

He couldn’t move. His legs, his mouth - nothing worked, only his breathing, and even that was laboured. Thorn strained, blinking his eyes, but the darkness was everywhere, his family fading back into the dreamworld and the awful reality of the waking world flowing in, over and around him like some vile creature from the black lake. He tried to struggle, to do…something, anything! Smoke…damn it, he could smell smoke. What the hell was going on? Why couldn’t he move? Shapes, indistinct and blurred moved through the darkness, several of them were moving nearer to him, their voices as hollow and empty as vastness of the black sands themselves.

“This ones still alive.”

“He’s finished, leave him.”

“Cut his throat, just to be sure.”

“Wait…” a female voice said, “I’ll do it…I owe him.”

“As you wish”

Thorn could see little more than shadows moving towards him, coming closer…was this the end then? Was this how he would leave this world? How could he face his ancestors like this?!

A voice whispered in his ear, “Be silent, be still. If you make move or a sound, they will kill you.”

Thorn felt the blade against his neck as it was drawn up and then wiped against his hide.

“It’s done. Come on, let’s get back to the others.”

The sound of hooves rumbled away into the night, leaving Thorn lying there, alone amongst the trees. How long he lay there he couldn’t say, but it must have been hours, as daylight gradually began to replace the darkness once again. He blinked, his vision slowly coming back, his legs tingling once more with life. Mustering as much effort as he could, Thorn managed to move just enough to lift his head to see that the column… He closed his eyes again; no, he didn’t want to see that. He knew of course, he already knew…

He was the last.

Darkness took him once again, pulling him down into its warm velvety embrace, but thankfully no dreams came this time. This was not the place for dreams. Soon enough, he awoke and shakily rose to his hooves and quietly, mechanically, began collecting his things. The Major tried not to look at the bodies as he gathered his armour and axe. At least they’d left them, as they had for the other warriors - they’d had enough respect for that at least. There were some provisions in his own pack too: some dried biscuits and water in his flasks. He wouldn’t touch the rest of the supplies in the wagons. Instead, he spent the next hour pulling the bodies into a pile and moved the wagons across them, emptying out as much as he could and laying out what dry wood he could find. There was enough lamp oil to give the fire a good start, and soon enough, it began to catch. Whether the enemy were nearby, whether a bolt or arrow would come out of the dark of the forest to cut him down…he didn’t care. What did any of this truly matter? He closed his eyes as the flames began to leap and the wood snap and spit in the heat. This was the time for them, to remember their deeds and honour their memories. Raising his muzzle, Thorn threw back his head and began to sing.

He didn’t know them, and yet he did. They were his brothers, his sisters - the warriors of the Wither World. It didn’t matter what tribe they were from, he didn’t care what colour banner they carried or what their names were. They were family, all of them; that, was what truly mattered. There few enough of his people already, and now, today, there were even fewer. He gave himself a shake and bowed his head,

“Farewell my brother, farewell my sister; may the Goddess keep you, always.”

Thorn turned to head off up the road and paused,

“Come to finish the job?” he asked.

The dark mare walked out of the forest and shook her head, “No.”

The Major gritted his teeth, “I should have let him kill you.”

The mare nodded slowly, “Yes.”

“You murdered my people.”

“They murdered mine.”

Thorn gazed at her and shook his head, “I suppose we’re all murderers then, in our own way.” He stared up at the sky, “Only the Goddess truly knows.”

She walked towards him, raising a hoof, “Major, I…”

There was a bright flash of green light in the distance. A few seconds later a loud rumble like distant thunder shook the tree’s. More flashes and roars quickly followed. Thorn shook his head,

“And so it begins.” He turned to Umbra, “Hadn’t you better be getting back to your friends? They’ll be waiting for you.”

“Yes…” she replied, “Thorn…” she squeezed her eyes shut for moment, “I’m sorry.”

The black coated thestral hoisted his pack onto his back, “I’m not the one you should be apologising to.” He nodded towards the blazing pyre, “There they are, I’m sure their spirits will hear you.”

The mare stared at the fire and then back to Thorn, lifting a hoof. The Major shook his head and walked past her,

“Goodbye Umbra.”

Flickering yellow and orange light lit the trees, the smoke billowing up towards the heavens, a signal fire for the warriors spirits returning home.

Thorn walked on.

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

“Somebody give me a damned report!” The Colonel yelled over the din.

“Sir!” Colonel Fulminata’s aide de campe saluted, “I’ll…”

He stopped mid sentence as a despatch carrier raced up,

“Colonel, the Celestians are shielding their forces from our bombardment. The Master at Arms respectfully requests more ammunition.”

“There is no more ammunition.” Fulminata spat, “Tell Brimstone he’s to keep up the bombardment as long as he can.”

“By your command.” The warrior turned and ran off into the smoke.

“Damn it, Bale, I can’t see a damned thing!” Fulminata growled low in his throat, “Is this some sort of magic?”

“I believe it’s from the explosives sir,” Bale replied, “it’s a new batch from the griffins. Our old stockpiles were depleted, and after the surrender…”

The Colonel stomped a hoof irritably, “-Goddess damn it, Flight Commander, I know all that! Where the hell’s our dragon support?”

Bale nodded towards the flashes of light amongst the clouds above them, “Etrida and her dragons are all currently engaged with the Celestian dragons, sir. We haven’t been able to communicate with them since we engaged the enemy.”

He was right. Those bloody fickle creatures were more trouble than they were worth, but at least they were fighting each other and not them. The smoke too was a surprise; the griffins had only produced a a small quantity since the end of hostilities had officially been announced, and what they’d sent had been erratic to say the least. Some quite clearly hadn’t detonated and the rest had only been a fraction of the power they had been, and as for that smoke! He shook his mane. The blasted Celestians were dug in hard and were just waiting for them, but that smoke…he scratched his chin in thought.

“If we can’t see them, then they can’t see us.”

Bale raised an eyebrow, “Sir?”

“All divisions, in to the attack.” His tailed swished wildly, “While we are invisible to them, Bale, send them in. We’ll be on them before they know it.” He snarled, “Ponies cannot stand before a thestrals blade.”

“SIGNALLER!” Bale yelled for the young trumpeter, “Sound the general advance.”

The young stallion nodded and lifted the horn to his lips. The call blasted out around the valley, picked up by others until the very air shook with its command. Fulminata smiled,

“Let’s see the rats scurry out of their holes now.”

High above, the darkened sky flashed with fire and magic, crackles and booms resounding across the heavens as dragons clashed in scaled muscular fury. Flames roared out, engulfing not only their enemy but the pegasi and griffins who darted between them, shooting their crossbows and hacking at each other with sword and spear. Beyond even them, the Princesses, the sisters, watched each other, lost in their own world; a world where only they existed.

Celestia stood tall and proud, her wings beating rhythmically beside her as she held her station. The Princess’s rainbow mane flowed out behind her, spilling over her golden armour to where her tail streamed out in the wind of the planet’s magical field. Her purple eyes never strayed from her opponent, her magic holding her halberd fast and at the ready. She gritted her teeth and steeled herself while Luna…no…’Nightmare Moon’, stood facing her. Slightly shorter than her sister, the midnight coated mare watched her with those large impassive azure eyes, as cold as a serpent and as bitter as poisons bite. Celestia could feel her muscles tightening, ready for an attack.

The moon Goddess’s silver and black armour glinted in the flares of dragon fire. Her magic glowed around the haft of her war scythe, casually held beside her, looking for all the world as if she were…bored.

“You seen angry, sister.” The dark mare said almost absently, “Is something the matter?”

Celestia narrowed her eyes, “You…you monster. You are the matter. All this, all of this!” she waved a hoof towards the billowing smoke below, “This is your doing: death, killing, murder - does this mean nothing to you? Is it all just some sort of twisted game?”

“Oh come now, Celestia.” Nightmare Moon replied casually, “Don’t pretend you’re innocent in all this. You had all the time in the world to make amends for what you did, but you preferred to remain wilfully ignorant, didn’t you? Do you still profess to know nothing now?” she pointed a hoof towards the masses of warriors clashing on the valley’s ridge below, the smoke slowly beginning to clear, “The evidence is beneath you, sister, but then…the truth always was, wasn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t know truth if it struck you in the face, spirit. When did you develop morals? You stole my sister away from me, you stained her heart with your evil and drove her to commit acts of insanity.” Celestia pointed her halberd towards the combatants below, “This…this is insanity!”

“Insanity?” Nightmare Moon laughed, “You call shutting out part of your world, your own world, because it doesn’t fit in with your precious world view to be normal? You don’t actually believe that, do you? Are you sure I am the one who is deranged Celestia?”

“You have no moral high ground, monster.” The Princess of the sun snapped, “I know what you did, I know about the burning of that town and the mothers, the foals, who died in its fires. It was because of your truck with those demons, those foul things you have taken to your bed. They are beasts that should have remained locked in their damnable world where father put them.”

“He had no right!” Nightmare Moon shrieked, “You know nothing! Your predjudice and hatred have blinded you to the reality of the world, Celestia. Your utopia, your precious little world of sunshine and rainbows is based upon nothing more than a lie, a lie which you knew about and did nothing to…”

“SILENCE!” The Princess screamed, “All around us, every single day, my people suffer and die, and it is all due to your selfishness, your damned arrogance! You think you are superior? You are the one who lusts for a joining with the husband of another, another of those demon cursed creatures! You have no morals, no goodness left within you, do you? Is there any part of my sister left demon? Or have you completely destroyed her?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself…Tia?”

That name…

With a scream of rage, Celestia launched herself at the dark mare, swinging her halberd around in a deadly arc. Nightmare Moon laughed, meeting the Celestian leaders blow with one of her own. She was strong, they were both strong, but this had to end, and quickly. The Goddess of the night knew there was more at stake here than simply defeating Celestia: she had somepony to protect, and nopony, no ‘sister’ was going to stop her - not this time…NOT THIS TIME!

Bellowing in anger, Nightmare Moon swung her scythe at the white alicorn, twisting and turning through the air as the two of them fought each other high above the hidden battle raging on the ridge far below. The deadly blades collided, sending sparks of intense light out across the clouds as they duelled. Celestia’s horn suddenly glowed and she ducked - the bolt of fire, hotter than the sun itself, lancing down through the clouds, through the smoke and blasting a gouge in the land below. The Goddess shook herself; she had to get her away from here - if a stray shot hit…NO! She couldn’t risk that! With screech of fury, she unleashed a bolt of black lightning straight at Celestia. Her sister dodged it, she knew she would, but it distracted her long enough for her to dive down through the clouds, heading as far as she could away from the battle where the two of them could fight without endangering…

A sudden blast of magic seared past the dark mare making her flinch away, and she turned to face her sister once again. This time she would not throw herself fully into a counterattack; no, this time, she would pace herself, letting her sister rage and throw spells at her all she liked. This time, she would win.

Far below, the thestral line burst from the smoke and smashed into the Celestian line like a inexorable tide of snarling, screaming black death. Clambering over their wounded, dead and dying, the warriors of the moon hacked their way through the defences, many falling beneath a merciless barrage of magic and crossbow bolts. Dray raced up the line,

“Colonel Spoon, can your ponies hold?”

“Aye, they will Dray, don’t you worry.” The white coated mare turned to shout at her troops, “Watch him, watch him! Well done, boys!” she turned back to the General, “The defences are breaking them up, but the buggers are determined, I’ll say that for them.”

One of the soldiers galloped up, foam pouring from her muzzle, “Colonel…” she gasped, “Minotaurs, they’re coming out of the forest on the left.”

“That old biscuit, eh?” the white mare smiled, “Time for a little surprise, eh, Dray?”

The General nodded, “At your order, Colonel.”

Along the left flank of the line, a group of ponies hurried into position, loading crossbows hurriedly and taking aim.

“Quickly boys and girls,” the Colonel called, “Sergeant, wait until they’re in range, theres a good fellow.”

A grizzled looking veteran, scarred and missing the tip of one ear gave her a toothy grin, “Yes, Colonel!”

Spoon watched him as he returned to the soldiers. Her eyes never left him, “He’s a rough sort,” she called to Dray over her shoulder, “but nothing like a bit out rough and tumble now and again eh, Dray? Keeps you limber!”

Dray said nothing. He was busy watching the Sergeant commanding his troops. Spoon was right, he did know his trade, and it was clear his ponies did too. A single barked order brought the crossbows up, their unusual payload in position and ready.

Spoon smiled, “Let them have a taste of it.”

“SHOOT!”

The crossbows jumped as the bolts left on their way towards the oncoming horde. Normally, such an attack would have killed a few, wounded others, but the steamrolling mass of muscle and brutality would have absorbed most of the bolts as if they were little more than an annoying buzz of a mosquito. It was clear from their expressions that this was what they had expected as well, until the first bolt exploded.

Spoon yelled in surprise as the blast wave hit them, knocking both her, Dray, and a good portion of the exposed troops off their hooves, “Buck me bloody sideways!” she coughed, spitting out dirt and grit from her mouth, “Bit of a warning next time, eh? Bloody hell fire!”

The crossbow wielding ponies pulled themselves off the ground and were quickly reloading. But really, Dray noted, there was little need. The minotaurs had simply…gone.

“Bugger me…” he whispered as the reality of what those ‘things’ could do, dawned on him. What the hell had they created?

“Don’t stand there like lumps of wood, get those bloody things at the ready in case more of the lumbering sacks of crap come at us!” The Sergeant roared. He continued to shout at his ponies, but Dray was already heading back to check on the rest of the army. Golden Spoon knew what she was doing, but it was the rest he had more concerns over. Thankfully, Major Wild was in command.

“Dray? What the hell was that explosion?”

“Lots of smaller ones making one big one, Major.” Dray said taking a quick pull on his water flask, “Our little presents seemed to go down rather well.”

“I’ll say!” she grumbled, “I was nearly killed by a piece of flying minotaur.”

The thestrals were pushing harder here, their skill at battle all too apparent, if the constant ferrying of wounded and dead ponies was any indication. Fresh troops were being filtered in - a constant stream ensuring nopony was at the front for too long. It was an idea, he wouldn’t mind admitting, he’d taken from observing his enemy in action last time. His soldiers had take to the new training with a will, especially when they saw how effective it could be.

“What’s happened to our dragon support?” Wild shouted over the din.

“Beating the stuffing out of each other up there somewhere” Dray replied, “Best place for them too.”

Wild looked up, “I don’t know, Dray, I think we’ve got other troubles coming this way.”

He knew what she meant without even looking. There they were – the small white clouds high in the sky, slowly beginning their dive towards the ground,

“Wendigo…”

The red mare bellowed her commands, “Shields! NOW!”

Unicorns threw up the glowing blue domes in time to meet the first of the blasts of magical blue fire from the white coated nightmares skimming overhead. Some of their power had been dissipated by the overlapping shields, but it wasn’t enough: lines of wounded and dead lay side by side where the wendigo magic had seared through their ranks. Ponies rolled and screeched in pain while their comrades hurried up to pull them back and replace them. All the while the thestrals and minotaurs pushed on.

Dray quickly grabbed a pegasus signaller, “Now’s your time. Sound the attack.”

From tree tops, from out of the still hanging smoke, pegasi broke cover and flew towards the rear of the wendigo, releasing their heavy bolts. Several hit, most missed, but a direct hit wasn’t necessary, not with those things attached. The bursts of green fire engulfed several of the white creatures, who simply winked out of existence in the ensuing blast. Pieces of meat, gore and bone, rained down across the battlefield, accompanied by the shouts and cheers of the Celestians below. But now, now the battle truly was at hoof. Below, in the valley, the Legions reserves were moving up - a black sea of lethality. The Celestians were giving as good as they got, but they needed something more, they needed an edge. Dray gritted his teeth; dear sweet Goddesses, where were they?

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

“Steady as she goes, Mister Haggis.” Gretel subconsciously fidgeted with her sword, “Get those bloody crossbows ready, you scurvy dogs or I’ll whip your arses raw!”

“Some ponies pay good money for that” Chalk shouted over the noise of the wind, “If we get out of this alive, I might take you up on the offer!”

Gretel shook her head, laughing, “If we get out of this alive, I’m locking you in my cabin for a week. I hope your stamina’s up for it, Mister Dust.”

“Goddesses, I hope so!” Chalk shuddered, but kept his concentration on the sails, helping to guide the wind just where it was needed. Beneath him, he could sense the ships excitement, the thrill of battle calling her on, urging her into the fray.

On the maindeck, Haggis could feel the helm respond to his slightest touch; the way the Revenge felt as if she could dance, her song calling out to the ponies on her decks - she was alive, full of the joy of life and eager for battle. This was her time, it was her place, and alongside her, the black and white lines of the Wind Wraith, that most sleek and beautiful vessel. Still, Haggis thought to himself stroking the wheel, she was no match for the sheer majesty of the King Sombra’s Revenge. No ship, not even in the Amethyst Fleet, could compare to her perfection and magnificence. He smiled,

“None come even close, my love” he whispered to her.

The Master at Arms, adjusted her hat and made a final inspection of the crossbows. Each was loaded, the ponies taking position and slipping off the safety catches.

“Ready on the…BUCK IT! Look out!”

Flying towards them like a thunderbolt out of the clouds, almost as large as the Revenge herself, came one of Equestria’s most feared beasts: a dragon; its scales as black as night, and spewing gouts of orange fire as it hurtled past them.

“Hard to port!” Gretel yelled, “Shoot as we bear!”

Crossbows both from the Revenge and the Wind Wraith opened up on the monstrous creature, but it was already gone, disappearing into the cloud below them.

“Hell fire, that was close.” Chalk gasped, shaking himself off.

Gretel peered over the edge of the ship, “It’s not over yet, he’ll be back.”

On deck, the crew were already re-loading the crossbows with others up in the masts readying the smaller ones. They were useless for the most part against something so large but they may be enough to…

“Here it comes again!”

A sudden shuddering crunch of wood, and an answering cry of alarm from the ship took Gretel to the starboard side. Staring over, she found herself looking right into the nightmarish eyes of the immense black lizard-like beast as it dug its claws deep into the timbers. Teeth, long as her own body glinted in the fires welling inside the creatures great maw.

She could have sworn it…smiled.

Fire burst up the side of the Revenge, the place her Captain had been standing a mere heartbeat earlier, transformed into an inferno of blue and orange. Flames roared upwards, blackening the rigging and setting the main mast afire. Almost immediately, the crew were rushing to cut down the sail and douse the flames. Gasping, Gretel pulled herself out of Chalk’s grasp and hauled herself back to her hooves, pulling out her sword,

“Shoot it! SHOOT IT! Get that bastard thing off my ship!”

Crossbow bolts hissed down from all directions, glancing off the great dragon’s hide while the thing clung tenatiously to the ship’s side. Haggis did what he could but the beast hung on with its razor sharp claws deep in the vessels timbers. Amy howled in impotent rage at the dragon as she dove through the cloud trying to shake it free. Meanwhile the Wind Wraith, followed them down, was shooting its own crossbows into the monsters immense back. Several found their mark and it howled in pain and fury, ripping another chunk of the ships side like it was made of paper. Gretel watching in horror as the great serpentine head snaked out and one of her crew vanished down the things gullet with barely a chance to scream.

Chalky…where was Chalky?! She looked about, but he’d…no…he’d gone! She lifted her crossbow and shot at the dragon’s eye, the beast flinching away just in time to flick the bolt aside with its thick scaled skull. She could see, just a glimpse, but there, disappearing amidst the chaos, the fire and blood, was a golden tail and white rump running up to the fore castle.

Chalk reached the strange apparatus and yanked off the canvas covering, Salty charging up behind him,

“What we be doin’? I don’t even know what this thing be!”

Chalk grabbed the box lid and threw it open, “Gretel said the griffins put one on the Wind Wraith too, so they must be be useful for something!” He stared at a sheath of papers inside, “I can read a bit of it, but somepony said you can read griffin.”

Salty ducked as a burst of flame tore across the deck,

“Aye! I can, it’s just…”

“Can you read it or not?!” Chalk yelled, “I’m not going to stay here and be roasted, Salty!”

“Damn it!” Salty snatched up the instructions and took a deep breath, “Thank you for purchasing the type one anti-piracy deterrent. We sincerely hope you enjoy your new…”

“Salty, for the Goddesses’ sake, skip the bloody intro and get to what we need to do to get it damned well working!” Chalk shouted.

The brown and cream pony shook his mane and flipped through the pages, “Right,” he began to mutter aloud, “…future business…safety precautions prior to use…ah!” He tapped the page, “Taking care not to damage the outer wrapping, insert the projectile, see fig A, into the projection tube as shown in fig B.”

Chalk stared at the instructions, “What?”

“Shove that in there!” Salty snapped and pointed to a long green painted cylinder that had a large white arrow helpfully painted on the side.

“Whats it say?” Chalk asked staring at the peculiar writing.

Salty peered at it, “’This way towards target.’”

“Right!” Chalk shoved the cylinder into place, “What’s next?”

“Ummm….” Salty stared at the manual, “Pull back cocking piece, Fig C, and ensure safety lever is disengaged prior to firing.”

“Right…” Chalk quickly examined the device and flipped a small brass lever, “Is that it?”

Salty looked down at the instructions, “Point muzzle towards target, taking into account for allowances in wind and…”

“BOLLOCKS!” Chalk yelled in fright as a massive claw ripped past him, tearing shards out of the deck and smashing into the remains of…oh no…there was somepony under it…or what was left of them.

“We don’t have time!” Chalk bellowed, “What do we do, Salty?!”

“It say we point that bit,” the brown and cream stallion pointed to the open end of the tube, “And ‘pull lever, see Fig D.’”

“Oh Goddesses…” The two stared up at the massive head bearing down on them. All Chalk could see were…teeth, teeth and blood soaked scraps of the last thing it had eaten…

Chalk’s eyes were wide. There was no way out of this - nothing could stop it…nothing. He just wished he could have seen Gretel one last time. So absorbed by the dripping teeth bearing down upon him, he barely felt what happened next. There was a dull thud, almost lost amidst the shouting and crashing noises all around the deck; it seemed to be emanating from the device. There was a high pitched whistling sound, followed by a whoosh, and then the cylinder like projectile shot from the end and vanished into the open maw of the dragon.

Nothing happened.

“Bye Salty…” Chalk mumbled. He drew his sword, knowing damned well it would do nothing against this beast, but still…he took a breath, “Come on you flying pile of crap! I’ll cut your bloody tonsils off and…”

The ensuing detonation severed the dragon’s head from its body, spattering pieces of meat, bone and blood across the entire ship and pulling the Revenge dangerously to starboard. Gore soaked ponies rushed to the side with hatchets, hooks and poles, trying desperately to push the bloodied corpse from the ship, but it was stuck fast.

“Hang on to something!” A voice yelled from somewhere, “We’re going over!”

Chalk blinked in surprise; he was still alive! Dear Goddesses, he was…what? Oh no…the ship was beginning to roll, ponies were yelling and shouting to one another, and Salty…Salty was lashing the two of them to the tubular device. In a trice, he was made fast along with the box of cylinders, and Salty himself,

“Hang on lad,” the old sailor said, clutching the box, “Amy needs ter shake that thing loose or we’ll follow it down ter hell.”

The white unicorn squeezed his eyes shut and hung onto the box for all he was worth. Sometimes he wish he had claws like a griffin, or at least something that could take a better grip than hooves, but…wait…magic! Finding the calm inside himself, reaching for that familiar tingle of energy, Chalk encompassed the two of them in his magic’s reassuring blue glow.

The world around him began to turn, or was it the ship? Goddesses help them, this was worse than when he’d been out on an all night bender with Bracken and found himself hanging onto the craphouse toilet as if it were his last chance at life itself. Celestia knew how much he prayed for help that night! He’d sworn he’d never touch another drop, but of course, inevitably, he had and now, here were the aftereffects coming back and he hadn’t even had the pleasure of drinking himself into a stupour either! Around the two ponies, rope, buckets, anything and everything loose, began to slide horribly towards the ship’s railing, including the huge head of the dead beast than moved with a wet sucking sound over to the side where it hung, caught by one of the dragon’s horns. Peering out of one eye, Chalk could see the immense body beginning to move, but the damned things claws were stuck right into the hull and even in death, the dragon was hanging on tenaciously. The Revenge called to him, crying out her distress and pain. He could help her, he had the power, he was her wind mage…she needed him.

Chalk felt a stirring in his heart: an angry determination and drive which he never realised was there. This…this thing had attacked his friends, attacked his ship, his home, and he was just sitting here like this? Bollocks to that! He took a breath and focussed his energy, tapping into the wellspring from which all his magic flowed. He had a power within him, one even Starswirl was impressed by. Now, it was time to put it to a better use than floating beer mugs and pipe tobacco.

He heard Gretel shriek, followed by the horrible lurching feeling once again as the ship righted herself. Staggering slightly from the expenditure of magic, he stretched his legs to try and steady himself. His head was…actually not that bad, certainly not pounding with the horrendous pain he’d had last time he’d let fly with so much…

“You…you absolute arse!”

“Huh?”

A great pair of red forelegs embraced the unicorn, near crushing him in a warm and furry assault,

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

Gretels large maroon eyes stared down Chalks. He looked up at her and grinned,

“Hello, love. Sorry, I’ve been a bit tied up.”

Even Salty groaned, removing the last of the rope while the Captain pulled her husband free, tears rolling down her cheeks,

“Get your hairy arse back on station and get to work ye swab.”

Chalk smirked, “Aye, aye Cap’n.”

Trotting back up to the quarterdeck, Chalk tried not to look but, dear Goddesses, the deck was awash with blood. Mostly, that of the dragon, but here and there were signs of what had clearly once been a crewpony, a friend, one of his new family. He gritted his teeth and trotted up the cracked and splintered steps. Celestia had better know what she was doing…

“Ahoy!” Cyclone yelled over to them, “Do you need any help?”

Gretel waved a hoof, “The damned thing really did a number on us,” she shouted back, “but we’re still here. Let’s get this over with and get the hell out of here.”

There would be no arguments about that. Already they were picking up speed and beginning their descent. Mr Haggis had them back on course, with the Wind Wraith moving away from her sister ship and readying herself. Barrels were rolled out and locked onto the runners, the magical fuses in place and the crossbows reloaded. Those they had left at any rate - the dragon had destroyed several of them and taken a sizeable piece out of the railing too. Deck hooves were already working on makeshift repairs and patching the fire damaged portions of the ship, but the Revenge would probably need some time in dock to get her back to the way she should be. Even so, everypony moved with a will, including a certain white unicorn, one with the job of urging the wind, not only for his own vessel, but for the Wind Wraith as well. Gretel too was busy, hard at work ordering the ponies to their tasks as the deck officers made them ready for what was to come.

Strata stuck his head up out of the hatchway and quickly disappeared back down again. The sickbay was filling quickly but the more seriously injured had been stabilised at least. Doc didn’t bother looking up as the indigo unicorn trotted back in,

“That’s the last of them,” he said closing the door, “let’s hope we don’t get any more or we’ll be stacking them like dominoes.”

Doc wiped his brow and let out a pent up breath, “Madness…”

“Huh?” Strata furrowed his brow quizzically.

“This.” Doc said by way of explanation, motioning towards the beds, “One attack, just one, and this is what we get.” He shook his head in resignation.

“It was a dragon, Doc.” Strata replied, “A very big dragon.”

“They’re all big!” Doc clucked his tongue and walked over to the water barrel to wash his hooves. Thank the Gods the lid had been locked down before the bloody ship rolled onto her side! They hadn’t the time to tie down everypony, and some had been injured by the fall or had existing injuries exascerbated by the sudden rolling. Strata had tried to go up on deck to see what was happening but the hatch had been blocked. By the roaring and screaming, he was damned glad his friend hadn’t managed to get up there or else he could have been yet another casualty. Doc took a swig of the brandy and passed it to the indigo unicorn.

“When did you start drinking?” Strata said in surprise.

“Not sure.” Doc replied with a shrug, “A mouthful every now and again, and before you start berating me, no, I’m not a secret drunkard.”

“Never said a word.” Strata grinned, taking a swig himself, “So long as we keep enough for medicinal purposes of course.”

Doc smiled, “Of course.”

Strata looked up suddenly, “We’re picking up speed.”

“Guess this is it then.” Doc sighed, “Better hang on to something.”

“Got a hoof to spare?”

Doc raised an eyebrow, “You know the answer to that.”

Strata walked up to the blue coated ships surgeon and stared at the floor. He never thought that one day he would be in one of the ships of the Amethyst Fleet and going into battle. If anypony had told him that a year ago he would have laughed at the notion, or perhaps even jumped at the chance – who could say. Now that he’d seen the reality, the pain, the suffering on the faces of the injured and pulled the sacking over the faces of the dead, the foalish excitement he’d once had for such an adventure, seemed like the dreams of a mad pony. He closed his eyes and waited. He’d seen such things…such incredible places and ponies, spoken to creatures few would have believed even existed, and yet now…now he felt something for the first time in his life…fear.

A warm muzzle nudged his neck and made him start.

“Not like you to be nervous.” Doc said quietly.

Strata shook his head, “No. Maybe not.” He snorted out a laugh, “Not for myself anyway.”

“It’s good to have something to protect, something worth fighting for.” Doc replied.

“Or somepony.” Strata said with a cheeky wink.

Doc raised an eyebrow, “True, true.”

“Doc!” A shout from across the room made them both look up.

Duty, as always, called.

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

“Colonel! Sky galleons coming in from the south.”

Fulminata looked up at the grim steel grey horizon and raised his telescope, “What? Damn them!”

There was no doubt about it. The two ships were coming right right at them, and their dragons were busy chasing each others arses around when they should have been here doing their damned job.

“Signal the wendigo, get them up there and bring those blasted ships down!”

“By your command, Colonel.”

Their intelligence had warned them of this, that the Celestians had been using sky galleons for moving troops, and the last thing they needed was these bloody things strafing them. It was bad enough with the pegasi, but at least they had some of their own, and griffins too, but many those had simply upped and left after the first battle. The greedy scum had filled their pockets and now, right when they needed them, many of them were nowhere to be seen. He narrowed his eyes, watching the impressive looking vessels heading for them. If he’d had his way, he would have commandeered those ships and pressed them into service, but they hadn’t been seen as anything more than an annoyance, and for some unexplained reason, the Goddess had wanted them to be left alone. Now he was regretting his decision not to take matters into his own hooves, Goddess or not.

“BALE!” he shouted.

The tall officer pushed his way through to his commander, “Sir?”

“Get what troops you can up there and hit those ships with everything, everything! Do you understand Flight Commander?”

Bale saluted, “Yes, Sir.”

Fluminata nodded, “Then go, quickly.”

“By your command.”

The Colonel had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was coming, and it wasn’t good. Heedless of his concerns, the battle continued to rage on the ridge. The Celestians were putting up one hell of a fight and had managed to all but destroy Dunn’s division with some sort of magical attack. He’d known the Legion had needed more magical creatures in their ranks, but tradition and scepticism had hamstrung any attempts to make a cohesive attempt to recruit unicorns. They had some, those who had answered the call of her Divine Majesty, but once again, time and complacency over the supposed ‘surrender’ by the Celestian forces had caught up with them. Fulminata growled, smoke rising from his muzzle as his anger began to boil. He had to hoof it to them, they’d been clever; sneaky and deceptive perhaps, but certainly clever. And now the Legion would pay the price.

“Colonel, Captain Jag reports the Celestian centre is beginning to buckle, he requests reinforcements.”

“They’ve already got everything.” Fulminata snarled. He looked around at the masses of the Legion moving up to the line, and coming closer - those damned ships. If they caught them in the open like they had the first time, they could cause havoc. But, if he pulled back now, the Celestians would be able to regroup. He had to trust his troops and those damnable Wendigo to do their job and deal with those ships. There was only one unit left he could use now – his final card…

“Send in the Night Guard.”

“Sir?” The messenger asked, “They’re the Goddess’s personal…”

“I know that!” The Colonel barked, “But if we fail now, the Goddess will have our hides and I’d rather have victory and a flogging than see our people fail her Divine Majesty.” He turned to his aide, “Give the order.”

“By your command.”

This was it, the final push, the tipping point. One last nudge and the Celestian centre would fold like a deck of cards, and this whole flimsy rebellion against their Goddess would be no more than a hoofnote in history. He could feel it in the air; they were so close! Fulminata’s tail swished wildly, his mane shivering in the sudden rush of excitement. Damn the ships! He drew his axe, reared on his hind legs and blasted a jet of fire into the sky, his voice howling out his defiance,

“Now! Push hard warriors of the moon! Fight for your Goddess and your honour. Drive these Celestian vermin from her sight!”

Their people would sing of their deeds on this day. Fulminata nodded to his aide, “I’ll be damned if I’m giving that lot all the glory!” Screeching his battle cry, the Colonel charged into the fray.

High above him, fire and magic blazed back and forth across the sky in a magnificent and terrifying display of raw power and fury. Speeding away from the aerial battleground, two streaks of light separated, unseen by the combatants below, arrowing inexorably south.

In an instant a blast of concentrated magic lanced out, narrowly missing the Goddess of the night, but she was fast, nimble - a lith creature who could dance away from such pitiable attacks with the disdain they deserved. Still, there was no sense in taking risks and she responded with a bolt of lightning, dark as the night sky, mingled with the elemental power of the spirit world. Celestia dodged the attack as she had expected. The Goddess took a breath and shifted the grip on her war scythe; she’d known all along that this was going to have to be concluded by a fight at close quarters. Nightmare Moon wanted to see the white bitch kneeling at her hooves and begging for forgiveness, pleading for clemency – it was only right after what she had done. She snorted aloud; perhaps she would be merciful and grant it. Even after all Celestia’s betrayals, she may still grant her this boon…once she had drawn all her magic from her and left her an empty husk - a helpless pathetic pawn as she had once been herself. It would be interesting indeed to see how the great Celestia felt being completely dependant on others for help, to know that nopony would listen nor care about her, and treat her concerns and words as though they were nothing more than a single raindrop, lost in a thunderstorm. Nightmare Moon gritted her teeth; she would make her listen, at the point of her sword or the edge of her scythe, it didn’t matter - only that the years of being left in emptiness and ignorance were finally ended once and for all.

The beautiful land of Equestria, the war torn, blood soaked home of the two alicorn Princesses tore past in a blur of colour around them. Neither sister paid it any heed; the world was inconsequential now. All there was, all that mattered, was the two of them and their determination to end matters, one way…or another.

Celestia’s eyes blazed angrily. All this…this suffering, the pain, the anguish; she could feel the lives of her people disappearing one by one, each precious spark, that rarest of gifts, snuffed out as their souls left her world for the eternal herd. This shouldn’t have happened - none of it. Ponies were meant to have lives filled with joy and love, songs and laughter, not this! Pain coursed through her, her heart crying out in resonance with the suffering of her people. With a scream of anger, she dove towards her sister, swinging her halberd in a lethal arc. The dark mare deflected it with apparent ease.

“Pathetic.” Nightmare Moon sneered, “Is this the best you can offer, Celestia?”

The sun Princess adjusted her grip, “I have more than enough to best you, demon.” She replied with conviction, “You should save your breath for fighting.”

“Well said!” the dark Goddess laughed, “Prepare yourself: mother and father would love to see you home again.” She glowered, “Permanently.”

With a howl, the Goddess of the night charged into the attack, swinging her great war scythe around. Celestia parried the blow, knocking the blade away and thrusting up with her halberds point arrowing towards the dark mare’s heart. Nightmare Moon dodged away, sweeping her scythe up to disembowel her sister with one clean stroke, but Celestia had seen it coming. Golden sparks of light flew as the weapons clashed and the deadly attack was defeated. Instantly changing the block into an attack Nightmare Moon suddenly found herself having to duck a thrust that would have likely opened her throat.

Again and again, the two sisters clashed, each of them equally skilled, each trying their best to take the others life. Celestia cleared her mind; there was nothing now but herself, herself and the enemy. She knew too, that Nightmare Moon…Luna…would be doing the same. She couldn’t be weak, she couldn’t allow herself to fall - her people needed her, her home needed her. Celestia’s halberd glanced off Nightmare Moon’s armoured shoulder, the darker mare’s own blade skittering across her back. Searing lightning flashed, answered by a ray of concentrated sunlight. They were evenly matched, but there had to be a flaw, some chink in the other’s defences. Maybe there was a way to get an edge, some way through, but what?

The two alicorns were tiring already, the exhaustion of magical and physical energy expenditure beginning to show its telltale signs. Celestia flapped her great wings, keeping her distance from her sister as the two combatants drew breath.

“Don’t you think this is ironic, Celestia?” Nightmare Moon called to her, “To be here, above our home where it all began? Perhaps this was indeed fated.”

Celestia’s eyes never left her sisters. She knew where they were, that Nightmare Moon had purposely lead them away from the ponies fighting. She’d let her, she couldn’t afford to have stray magic hitting her people, but…why the castle? Nightmare Moon watched her quietly,

“Something the matter…sister?”

“It is not too late.” Celestia said lowering her halberd, “Nightmare Moon…Luna,” she shook her head sadly, “give up this madness. You’re hurting our people - they’re dying, the land is dying. We should be united, both of us…please, listen to me.”

“As you listened to me, you mean?” Nightmare Moon said derisively, “All those years, Celestia, of being second fiddle, of being ignored and pushed to one side because all you could see was what you wanted. Not me, not anypony else, it was all about you wasn’t it? It always was and it always will be.”

“Luna, such selfishness is…”

“-You have the audacity to call ME selfish?!” the Goddess screeched suddenly, “You think of nopony but yourself! All the time, every day, every single damnable minute, its always been about you! You don’t care a damn about our people, you only care about yourself and your oh, so superior ego!”

“I am not the one who called on the forces of evil to…”

“-Forces of evil!” Nightmare Moon bellowed, shifting the grip on her scythe, her smoky mane blowing behind her angrily, “You only care about ponies, don’t you? You care nothing for the other lives beneath your sun.”

“Those things were locked away for a reason, Luna!” Celestia retorted, “Demons and creatures father would not allow in this world because all they live for is to cause suffering and to kill.”

“You don’t know them.” Nightmare Moon replied.

“Don’t I?” Celestia shook her mane angrily, “They hunted me like an animal. One of them killed and ate a child from another world. It was a child, Luna…a child!”

The Goddess of the moon snorted, “So? All creatures need to eat, Celestia, even you.”

“And what of the ponies at Belle’s Orchard?”

Nightmare Moon shrugged, “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

“It should…” Celestia could feel her chest tightening, “Your precious monsters set fire to the town. The hospital, full of mothers and their foals…” she felt tears welling up in her eyes, “Your beasts…they murdered them…they burned them to death, Luna. Dear Gods, can’t you see? Do you think this is the way things should be?”

“There are always casualties in war, Celestia.” Nightmare Moon said dismissively, “If you want an end to this, then all you need do is lay down your arms, order your ponies to surrender to me and…”

“Surrender? To them? To you?!” Celestia shook her head in disbelief, “You think I would hoof over my home, my world, to you your monsters? Dear Gods, you really are insane! Your crazed desire for that creature has blinded you to reality and now there is only darkness in your heart, and that…thing!”

“No, sister,” Nightmare Moon said quietly, “it is you who are blinded.” She lifted her scythe and shook her head, “ I had hoped you would see reason, that we could end this peacefully, but you only see one way forward don’t you? As always, its all about you.”

“Luna…”

“Luna is gone Celestia,” the dark Goddess said, gathering her magic around her, “now there is only the nightmare…the one you created.”

Celestia’s heart cried out, both in anger and in grief. Had she…had she done this? Was this her fault? No…no it couldn’t be, that…that thing she was…

Nightmare Moon’s scythe slammed into her, barely deflected by her halberd and slashing open a gash on Celestia’s unarmoured belly. White hot pain burned through her, blanking her mind with its urgency. Another swing came in, a burst of lightning, another and another. She had to block, to parry; dear Gods, where was this strength coming from? And then…then she realised…it was her. She was weakened, weakened by that horrible creature’s words. This wasn’t Luna, this beast wasn’t the younger sister she had sat up with at night and read stories to or sheltered during lightning storms as the frightened foal had snuggled into her. No, this was a spirit from the otherworld, a terrible thing of nightmares - the nightmare that had come to her home.

Nightmare Moon indeed.

Celestia gathered her magic, unleashing a pulse of light, giving herself enough space to pull back and…

The sky shook.

Beneath her, beneath both of them, the castle, their home, bulged out as if it were taking a breath, breathed in, and then burst. Green light, brighter than anything Celestia had even seen in her life, flashed across her vision, followed by a thunderous roar and blast of hot wind that blew the two alicorns across the sky like toys. Quickly, she threw up a shield, encompassing herself in its protective magic and looked down into…

“No…”

She couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t real, this wasn’t happening…was it?”

“No…”

Celestia shook her head in disbelief as stones, tiles, wood, and debris of all kinds, erupted from what had once been her home in a spewing fountain of magical fire. She saw the blocks, cut and formed by ponies centuries earlier, carefully placed one atop another, lifted into the sky and starting their descent back to the ground. Ponies ran for cover as the pieces of her life fell, smashing carts, homes, shops, walls…everything. Her ears were ringing with the noise, her eyes stinging from the heat and dust thrown out from the explosion. She mouthed the words, her voice failing her,

“No…Rush…”

The portal, deep beneath her home. Where once it had been, where Starswirl had been working…it was gone…

Nightmare Moon smiled to herself; so ended the life of Celestia’s pet wizard and his toys. Did the old witch really think she wouldn’t have noticed the unicorn had been stolen from the fortress? Did she seriously believe that she, the Goddess of the night, would not have known what was happening in her own realm? The children of the night, her silent eyes and ears, had done their work well.

“Rush…”

Nightmare Moon gave herself a shake, looking curiously at her sister’s agonised expression. “Rush?” She snorted, “Somepony in there you liked, Celestia?” she laughed, “I never did like the place…”

Celestia’s halberd crashed into the dark mare with a force that knocked her bodily across the sky. Coughing and gasping for breath, Nightmare Moon swung her scythe only for it to be blocked with a violent blow which slammed into her chest. Celestia’s eyes burned with a white hot fury and rage she had never seen before…not like this. The sun Princess, Equestria’s Goddess of the sun…screamed.

As if in answer to her cry of fury and pain, the sky rumbled with thunder, the trees shook and sent birds flying in terror from the epicentre of the magical storm that began to rage around them. Nightmare Moon lifted her scythe and spat out a gobbet of blood, staring down her sister, the white alicorn who was now glowing as white as snow, as golden as the sun and as lethal as death itself. She readied her magic and charged.

The contest was over in seconds. Celestia threw herself into the attack, her strength taking her sister by surprise, the sheer brutality and power was…unstoppable. Time after time, she blocked Celestia’s thrusts, cuts and kicks - dodging and weaving, trying desperately to save herself. Her sister had never been like this! Why? Because of some dusty old castle? Had somepony been in there she cared for? Another blow: a solid buck right to the chest, sent her rolling head over heels into a cloud bank. Barely even with time for a breath, Celestia teleported above her, the mare’s eyes blazing, her screaming cry of hatred filling her ears even as the halberd howled down, smashing Nightmare Moon into the ground with dreadful force.

The attacks didn’t stop. A tempest of directed fury assailed the Goddess of the moon as she did all she could to keep herself alive. For the first time, she began to realise what a terrible error she had made in fighting her sister head on. For the first time, she realised…she was losing.

Celestia herself…had gone. The Princess, so beloved of her people, was a whirling, screaming, harbinger of doom, the bringer of death and the searing light that burns away all that is evil and corrupt. Nightmare Moon, the demon that had stolen her sister, the beast that had unleashed the hordes of darkness upon her land - it had taken everything, EVERYTHING! It had to die, it had to - there was no other way. Focus everything, bring the heat and light of the sun…kill it…kill them all…

“Rush!”

Celestia’s tears flowed like rain, her howls and grief tempered in the magical storm of her loss and emptiness that consumed her heart and soul.

“RUSH!”

Nightmare Moon dove away, flying down into the ruins of the castle, their ancestral home, and now a ruin of what had once been a place of hope and joy. Most of the roof was gone now, with burned and ragged pieces of colourful royal banners hanging from the broken walls like torn flesh. Whole parts of the castle had simply…vanished. There was a crash of roofing tiles and timbers as the sun Princess landed amongst the debris of the throne room. Held in the magical glow from her horn was a key, small and innocent in its appearance, but one that made Nightmare Moon’s eyes widen in horror,

“Is that…how, how did you?”

Silently, the key floated into an almost invisible recess in the floor of what was left of the throne room. Staring in horror, the Princess of the moon watched as the stone slab groaned and slid aside with a loud grating sound. She had seen this once before, only once, when she had been much younger than she was now. Her heart thundered in her chest; it had been when they had fought Sombra, that being of such terrible power and unimaginable evil - he had been defeated by this equally terrible weapon. After that time, so long ago, their parents had hidden the key, preventing such power ever being used again except at the very limits of need. Now…now the pillar rose again. Small gemstones, seemingly innocent and yet so terrifying, floated around the carved stone, along with the final one, the purple star of magic, shining in the light from the sun Princess’s horn. It was the same colour as her eyes…

Nightmare Moon took a step back,

“Celestia…you can’t…”

For a moment, perhaps even no more than the blink of an eye, Celestia paused, the glow from her magic faltering. This was her sister, her beloved sister, the one she loved…like…like him…

Nightmare Moon screamed, launching herself at her sister. She had one chance to stop this madness before it consumed them both. She had to…

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

The thestrals felt it before they saw it, all the children of the night did, from the lowest farm hoof to the Colonel of the Legion. Even as his warriors died in the consuming fires of the magical death falling from the sky, even as the news reached him that the northern tribes had deserted them…it was over.

She was gone.

Fulminata didn’t need to see the flash of rainbow light, nor the beam of concentrated magical energy as it burned through the heavens…he knew. They all did.

“Sir? SIR! What do we do? What are we going to…”

Bale fell at Fulminata’s hooves, a Celestian bolt through his neck. It was a fluke shot, a chance in a thousand, maybe more, but it was a harbinger of what was to come. Fulminata’s heart was empty. Where once the Goddess had filled him with her love and strength, now there was only the empty wasteland, the emptiness of the Wither World’s sea of sand as black as night. He had to save them - as many as he could. His people needed him now more than ever.

“All commanders, withdraw, reform on…”

Something huge slammed into him, knocking him to the ground with a grunt of expelled air. Blood stung his eyes, pain coursing through his broken body. Dear Goddess, what…? Scales, large and red and…there was so much blood…

“Colonel! Somebody give me a hoof here!”

Hooves reached down, pulling at him, shoving, dragging him from underneath the remains of the enormous lizard. Fulminata’s lungs screamed for air, but the pain was just too great. Darkness pushed in on him from all sides, threatening to take him down into its deep embrace. Voices around him called out, some familiar, others…others he had no idea…

“Get that damned thing off him!”

“The Goddess…the Goddess has gone…”

“Healer! Where the hell’s the healer?”

“What’s happening? What are we going to do now?!”

“Come on, we have to get him out of here!”

Trumpets blared and a great cry went up. Was it the enemies or their own? The Colonel closed his eyes. He knew the answer, he knew all too well.

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

“Fight back! For Celestia’s sake keeping pushing!”

Dray roared his anger and slammed his sword down on a thestral who had dodged past a wounded pony. The centre line was beginning to give way. Damn it all! All that effort, all of it, and the bloody Legion were still starting to hack their way through. The bloody things were simply stronger, better skilled and better equipped, despite everything they’d done. If only he’d had more time, more resources!

“General, on your left!”

Wild’s shout of warning came just in time. Dray rose his sword up, knocking the thestral’s axes blow away and flicked his blade up into the creatures unarmoured throat and into its brain. Quickly, he withdrew his sword, allowing the thestral to fall - dead before it hit the ground. By the Goddesses, he hoped his own end would be as quick, but he was more worried for the rest of them, and for her, for…

“Heather!”

A huge crossbow bolt blurred past the corner of Dray’s vision and the large red mare sank to the ground with a cry of pain. He couldn’t get to her. Ponies pushing forward to replace the wounded blocked his view of the Major. The fighting was so intense, so continuous, he knew it couldn’t last, not like this. His glanced up at the sky: where the hell were they? And then he saw a glimpse of red to his left being carried to the rear, the mare kicking the medics off her as they tried desperately to keep her on the stretcher,

“Will you get off me!”

“Hold her down!”

“Bugger off, will you? Dray? DRAY!”

Dray smiled to himself. At least she would be safe at the rear. At least while there still was a rear. More wounded were coming back, and many more still that would never see another day. He lifted a spear and shoved a young soldier out of the way before launching it right into the chest of a thestral who was clambering over the mounting piles of dead and dying. The young ones were trying their best but it was a storm of steel and strength that would wash them away as surely as the tide washed the sand castles away he’d made with his foals. Polo, Dawn Dew…Honey…For them, for his family and his people, he would fight until he had nothing left in him. Nothing at all.

The battle continued.

The all too familiar noise of war filled his senses. Their defences had been effective, if only for so long, and they were breaking up the Legions attack - but there were just too many, and now the damned things were sending in the wendigo against them. Above all the others, he feared them the most, and with good reason: Ponies were terrified of them. They had all grown up with stories of them, and the folklore and myth that had built up around the creatures. some of it was no doubt complete fabrication and imagination, but the reality of their power needed no artificial inflation…it was deadly.

Silently descending on vapour trails, the winged creatures plummeted like falling stars, the howl of winter sending a chill into the hearts of even the bravest of their soldiers. The blasts of ice magic, seared through their ranks, killing and maiming as it went. Dear sweet Goddesses they fast, but their pegasi had still managed to bring down a few of them, the bodies of those still alive hewn by the vengeful Celestians as the strange creatures crashed to the ground - a grim fate indeed.

Horns blew across the field, the plaintive sound quite different from their own signals.

“What was that? Whats happening?” Dray reared, trying to see.

Chipper hoofed him the telescope, “It’s the Night Guard Colonel,” he said leadenly, “They’re going to hit our centre.”

Dear Goddesses, this was it. They were at their limit, they couldn’t take any more, not this.

“Sir! Sir!” One of the soldiers leaped up excitedly, waving her forelegs, “Sails! Sails in the sky! It’s the Revenge and the Wind Wraith!”

It was.

A great cry of relief and hope rang out through the Celestian lines.

“Thank Celestia.” Chipper said taking a swig from his canteen.

“I think we need to thank Captain Gretel and her crew.” Dray said with a grim smile.

Damn it all; he prayed they weren’t too late, but the good Captain had brought them what they needed nonetheless: Hope.

“Fight on soldiers of Equestria!” he yelled, “Fight for your homes, you loved ones! Send these scum back to the fires of Tartarus!”

In answer the lines heaved, the warriors pushing harder, hacking, stabbing, kicking, doing everything they could to try and turn the tide. The thestrals however, fought back just as hard, buoyed up by the sense they were close to breaking through and the Goddesses own elite troops marching up to reinforce them.

That was when it happened.

Everypony felt the magic speeding towards them and over them, flooding their hearts with it energy and drive. Hope, dreams, strength and life: it was all there, all in that wonderful flow of multicoloured light. It was the rainbow of the world, the colour of their Princess - the victory call they needed.

As if in answer to that magnificent light, the thestrals faltered. Everypony looked up; some to see the light of their Princess, others to see the blinding flash of magic as their ranks were incinerated in the blasts from the deadly cargo dropping from the sky galleons passing overhead.

“Praise Celestia…” somepony said, “We’re winning.” a pony clopped Dray on the shoulder, “We’re winning!”

He didn’t know who it was, in fact it didn’t seem to register at all, not really, only that he knew now they could do this. They could win. Celestia was with them…

Overhead a familiar pegasus swooped low, her voice high and full of excitement,

“It’s the Princess! Celestia is here! She’s here!”

Dray felt tears filling his eyes. Finally, finally it was their time. He lifted his voice, calling to his brothers and sisters, the people he had sworn to protect,

“Fight! Fight, sons and daughters of Equestria! The Princess is with us!”

The lines surged forward. The thestrals buckled, held, and then the tide went out, taking the mass of black armoured warriors with it. From high above, dragons fell like rain, great blasts of golden magical light searing away the clouds and throwing down the enemies of their homeland. Wendigo, dragon, griffin, thestral, minotaur…all of them - they knew their end was here, and for many, it would be. The vengeful Celestian army, the warriors of the sun Princess, their lands defiled and their friends and families killed, swept down upon their enemy, cutting down everypony, everything, within reach.

Dray’s heart leaped. What if this were a trap? What if it were River Valley once again and the enemy were…no…no they weren’t. Not this time. The look in their eyes, the flood of warriors heading back towards the forest and beyond; this was no orderly retreat of a professional army…this was a rout. If he’d had time to stop and consider what was happening, the Colonel may have contemplated the possibility of running into a rear guard, some sort of organised defence, but the Celestians were in pursuit and overrunning anypony who turned to fight. Adrenalin coursed in his veins and drove him on, howling and yelling with the sheer thrill of the hunt, chasing down their enemy with the magic of their Princess white hot in their hearts.

Nothing could stop them now.

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

“What’s happening? What the hell’s going on?” The officer stood outside the tent with several of his warriors trying to catch one of those streaming past, “I said stop!”

A dark blue thestral, smoke pouring from his muzzle, slammed to halt, all but running onto the officer’s axe blade.

“Why are you running? Where’s the Colonel? Tell me!” Arc screamed into the warriors face.

The black coated warrior of the moon panted for breath, his eyes wild, “She’s…she’s gone. The Goddess is…no more. The Celestian witch…she’s coming.”

Arc lowered his axe, allowing the warrior to continue his journey north. He stood there, staring straight ahead at the flood of black armoured warriors emerging from the forest: minotaurs, thestrals… It couldn’t be true, could it? Their Goddess, Nightmare Moon, the Goddess of the moon…gone? Defeated by the white witch? He closed his eyes and choked back a breath. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t be! They couldn’t be beaten by a group of grass chewing slab toothed ponies! They were winning! The damned things had signed the surrender and it was just some insignificant rebellion that they were dealing with, not some…

“First Spear, your orders?”

One of his warriors looked at him questioningly. He was never asked for orders, he gave orders, and they obeyed them! Arc took a deep breath and stared at the tent beside him. Ever since that damned thing had appeared it had infected their beloved Goddess with some strange sickness. Equestrians used magic, didn’t they? That alien and unnatural power that was the domain of the Goddess - it must have been that. Of course, it all began make sense, didn’t it? After all this time, the foul creature had been slowly weakening Her Divine Majesty with his corruption. Arc could feel his muscles twitching, his teeth grinding together. This was his fault, that damned slab toothed freak! He threw open the tent and marched inside.

There, sitting beside the bed, was a black stallion. His mane and tail were black, his flank showing a white lightning bolt…yes…it would wouldn’t it? The mark of the spirits…the damned thing had been possessed after all. Arc narrowed his eyes; the colour and markings didn’t change who it was - the eyes remained the same, the coat, the build…it stank of Equestrian.

“You…on your hooves.”

Bracken obediently stood.

“You are to come with me.”

“No.”

“You dare!” Arc snarled at him, “Do as I command or I’ll cut you down where you stand!”

“Her Divine Majesty has commanded me to stay here and wait for her, and wait I shall…First Spear.”

The thestral took a breath and tried to find the calm inside himself. It wasn’t easy, but if he were to have this creature do as he wanted, to do what must be done…

“Bracken…”

“Moonlight.” The pony corrected.

Arc closed his eyes a moment, biting back a harsh retort, “Moonlight” he said politely, “Her Divinity has asked you to take up her banner and help rally her troops.”

Bracken looked at him curiously, “Me? And why would she…?”

“-I don’t question the Goddess, Moonlight. Are you questioning her now?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then take up her banner. You can still wait for her, but her people need you now. She needs you.” Arc stepped forward and clopped Bracken on the shoulder, “Be the pony you were meant to be…Moonlight, be the Goddess’s standard in this storm.” He walked towards the door, leaving Bracken standing dumbstruck, “It’s your choice, but you know what the right thing to do is.” He smiled, “Don’t you.”

Outside, Arc gave himself a shake, “Let’s move.” Together, the First Spear of the Legion turned tail and launched himself into the air heading north, joining the sea of others in their bid to escape the oncoming wave of Celestian wrath.

Inside the tent, Bracken stared at the banner leaning beside the doorway where the thestral had left it. The deep purple standard with the white embroidered helmet, the symbol of Nightmare Moon, his Goddess, filled his eyes. He could still smell her, still feel her warmth against his, and yet…something was missing. He’d felt it, a rush of heat and then ice cold, the terrible sensation of such awful loss. Inside, he knew something terrible had happened. He’d been dutiful though, he’d waited as she’d commanded, even after all the maids had gone, he alone had remained. Now, peering out of the doorway, he saw the hordes of fleeing warriors. Minotaurs, griffins and thestrals - some flying some running, but all were heading in one direction - north.

What should he do? He didn’t feel that same odd compulsion he had when in Nightmare Moon’s presence, but he didn’t want to displease her, or worse yet, betray her. It wouldn’t hurt to take up such a simple thing and stand by her tent, would it? After all, the thestrals were the Legion, and the Legion obeyed the Goddess. First Spear Arc was one of the most loyal he’d ever met, and amongst thestrals, loyalty was a thing that was sacrosanct. He shook his mane and stared at the standard. It was such a simple thing really, wasn’t it? It was little more than a wooden pole, a cloth banner, black and white tassels and a silver device, the representation of Nightmare Moon’s helmet, topping it all. He lifted it in his hooves and sighed; it was what it represented that was important, and of course…who. What choice did he really have? She’d be back soon, and he would be here waiting for her with a smile. Hefting the standard onto his shoulder, he walked out of the tent and into the mass of warriors.

Outside, it was utter chaos; armoured equines swept past him in a flood, their eyes staring and nostrils flared as they ran. Whatever had happened, it was clearly a lot worse than Arc had suggested. He closed his eyes, shook his head and smiled. He’d come this far, where was there left to go now? Slowly, steadily, he walked on, heading for the highest point of the land near the camp. The warriors flowed around him like water flowing around a rock in a stream. There he stood, and planted his standard, her standard. He stared ahead, past the mass of soldiers, beyond the forest and to the distant horizon. Nightmare Moon would come for him soon, his Goddess, the Princess of the moon. Bracken smiled.

She would come.

High above, the clouds broiled. Dragons swooped, dove, and circled each other, screaming and howling in fury as they tore at one other. Blood and scales fell like rain from the terrible wounds they inflicted upon their own brethren. Fire scorched open wounds, claws ripped at throats, eyes and wings - anything to maim and kill their enemies. Etrida and her dragons fought desperately, but it was a fight they couldn’t win. The Celestian Princess was here and she had already struck down two of her clan in the blink of an eye. She had to escape - she had a brood to care for and that foolish mate of hers would as likely crush the eggs as look after them. There was nothing more she could do here, and especially now as the Goddess, along with her promises, was gone. She had her pride, naturally, all dragons had their pride, but survival came first. Etrida trumpeted her commands to her people to withdraw; most would obey, but some…some would not. It was as it should be. Those lost in their battle fever and blind rage, would help slow any pursuit. With luck, they would get away, but she, like her clan, had to survive. They would have to fly far, far away, but they had to go…she had to live.

Bracken watched the great creatures flying before the onslaught. Who would have thought that some day, the simple son of a simple craftspony would be here, standing on a hillside carrying the banner of one of the Princesses of Equestria; the Goddess of the moon, the one who had seen beyond what he was, and to who he was inside. It was unbelievable! He laughed; nopony at home would believe it! Maybe one day he’d arrive home with her and the two of them would meet his parents and sit around for a meal together. He smiled at the thought, his heart racing. Bracken reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek. It would be all right. Soon, it would be all right.

Heat and magical exchange caused large gusts of wind to whip the banner in the wind, the thunder of hooves rumbling through the valley like a thunder storm. He could see them now, the soldiers of the Princess, his old friends…his old comrades. How ironic, that he was here holding the banner of the very force he had vowed to fight. How had this happened? Was he a traitor? Had he betrayed the very Princess he had sworn to protect? And yet…Luna, Nightmare Moon, she was a Princess of the very same land, wasn’t she? The Princess of the moon and the night. Bracken blinked and looked up at the sky. If he concentrated, if he looked really hard past the fire, smoke, cloud and magic, he could see…stars…so many stars…and there, a single crescent moon. The whiteness of it, the purity of its glow, filled his eyes. Bracken smiled.

“Yes?”

He blinked, “Huh?”

“Your name? Come on, hurry up, I don’t have all day like some pony’s you know.” The stange pony sitting behind the desk rubbed his horn, “Look at the state of this! I’ve never had to use this much magic in hundreds of years, and now I’m rushed off my blasted hooves and will anypony lend a hoof? No! Of course not! It’s all ‘Aethel can you help out with the new arrivals?’, and ‘Aethel, Craith is off on holiday with his family this weekend, would mind covering?’ Well, of course I said yes, didn’t I? Good old reliable Aethel! A bloody stooge, that’s what I am! Slaving my hooves and now my poor horn to the bone, to the bone I say! And what thanks do I get? Nothing, not a bloody sausage!”

Bracken stared around him. Everything was so white, completely and utterly white. The ground, if that was what it was beneath his hooves, was as white as the sky, or the walls or…wherever, whatever… His head hurt; what in Equestria was going on?!

“Are you listening to me?”

The pony-like creature behind the desk adjusted his glasses and flexed his wings with a loud groan.

Bracken blinked, “You…you’re an alicorn?!”

“A question and an exclamation! You truly have the most remarkable powers of perception Mister Bracken” The golden coated stallion announced sarcastically. He sighed and rolled his equally golden eyes, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that today alone? ‘Oooh! An alicorn! Oooh!’” Aethel tapped a quill on the ledger before him, “I can assure you, sir, that I am not the only alicorn here, although sometimes you would bloody well think so!” His voice ended in a near shout.

“Anyway”, Aethel said clearing his throat and resettling his feathers, “Name?”

Bracken tried to pull himself together, “Er…I’m sorry, but where am I?”

The alicorn groaned, “Look, it’s all in the welcome pack. Now…Name?”

“Oh, it’s Bracken.”

“Just Bracken?” Aethel looked up at him from over the top of his glasses.

“Ebony Bracken.”

“Good, now, sign there please.” The alicorn pushed the ledger towards him and passed him the quill, “Do try not to slobber too much on it, I know what you earth types are like; that’s the fifth quill I’ve had to make today - I only have so many feathers you know.”

Bracken stared at the quill. It was one of his? An alicorn feather?

“Today…please?” Aethel said in an exasperated voice.

Nodding his apology, Bracken signed and placed the quill back carefully in the ink well. Aethel pressed a button on a small device on his desk,

“Miss Bunny? Ebony Bracken is on his way through. The usual please.” He paused, apparently just remembering something, “Oh, and can I have a fresh orange please? My throat’s dry as a bone here.”

A voice crackled from the device making Bracken jump in surprise,

“Yes, Mister Aethel.”

Bracken stumbled over his own hooves as he backed away in confusion, “Wait…I…”

“It’s all described in the manual, Mister Bracken.” Aethel propelled the confused pony towards a door that had materialised beside him, seemingly suspended in mid air, “Off you go now, there’s a good fellow.”

Bracken’s mouth was still working soundlessly as he staggered into the office, the door closing firmly behind him. He didn’t know what to think; what was this? Was he going mad?

“Hello, Mister Bracken.” The coal coloured earth pony behind the desk said in a disinterested voice, “Here’s your welcome pack and guide book.” She gave a humourless smile that looked like she’d done it a thousand times before, “Is there somepony here we can call for you?”

“Miss…I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.” Bracken rubbed his face in confusion, his heart racing, “Am I…am I dead?”

“Didn’t Mister Aethel say?” Miss Bunny asked peering over her large glasses. She clucked her tongue, “Honestly, he’s so busy lately he’s forgetting the basics.” She held out a hoof, indicating the spindle backed chair in front of her desk, “I’m afraid, the answer is ‘yes’. Now, I know it’s all very confusing for you and that it’s going to take quite some time to adjust, but it’s all explained here. She tapped the pink folder embossed with large friendly looking gold letters. Inside were a number of equally colourful brochures and booklets neatly placed into pockets which had pictures of smiling and happy looking ponies on them. Bracken read the words on the front of the folder aloud,

“Eternal Herd Orientation Guide”

Miss Bunny nodded, “It’s all explained in the guide. The early part is a foreword by the author and a welcome from the royal family.” She passed him a steaming mug of cocoa, “Page sixteen is where you want to begin, you can always read the rest later.”

Bracken shook his head in wonder and sipped his cocoa; it really was quite good. He cleared his throat and flipped through the pages until he found the relevant entry,

“Some disorientation and discomfort may be experienced within the first few hours due to the realignment of the soul with the conscious mind. This is perfectly normal and there is no need for concern. You should begin to feel a sense of connection with your new home shortly after arriving, and your friendly staff at the welcome centre are on hoof to answer all your questions during office hours.” He looked up, “Friendly staff?”

Miss Bunny smiled, “Naturally.” She passed him a biscuit, “Now, do you have somepony in your family who’s passed over who I can call for you?”

“Passed over…” Bracken could feel his ear twitching nervously, “I’m dead…I’m…dead.”

“Ah…” the mare nodded knowingly, “don’t worry about it too much, it’ll take time for your soul-realignment to settle down and then you’ll be right as rain.” She peered up at the clock on the wall, “I’m afraid we’re out of time already, the next pony will be due any minute. Honestly, I can’t believe just how many are coming through these days, but then that’s war for you isn’t it!” she munched down the last of her biscuit and took the half finished cup of cocoa from the startled Bracken, “Come now, you must know somepony?”

"I don’t know, I just can’t think straight, it’s all so confusing!” he blurted.

The coal coloured mare trotted over to another door and opened it, “You see that large building over there?”

Bracken stared out at a brightly sunlit road, the neatly trimmed lawn, the lush trees and…

“The large building?” Miss Bunny prompted.

“Oh…yes, sorry.”

The mare rolled her eyes, “That’s the reception centre. Pop inside and see the receptionist and show them your folder. They’ll sort you out with bed and board until we can get you settled. In the meantime, do try and think of somepony you know who can come and see you? It’s a lot better when you can talk to…”

“Miss Bunny? Miss Bunny!” The box on her desk crackled with the familiar voice of Aethel.

“Sorry Mister Bracken, times up. No rest for the wicked, eh?” The mare trotted back round to the desk and waved towards the door, dismissing the baffled pony before pressing the button on the communications box, “Yes, Mister Aethel?”

“Where’s my bloody juice girl? I asked for it ages ago! Its bad enough I have to…”

Miss Bunny rolled her eyes and grinned at Bracken as he closed the door behind him. This was…insanity. He’d gone mad, that was it, stark staring, raving mad. Either that or the eternal herd truly was a nut house where the nuts ran everything, including, it seemed, the stationary. He flipped through the folder until he found a large word that seemed to sum up his feelings surprisingly accurately,

‘CONFUSED?’

There was even a cartoonish depiction of a pony’s head with a large question mark above it. He read on as he walked:

‘Right now, you may be experiencing anxiety and some confusion due to your recent soul-realignment. This is perfectly natural and should be expected. Memory dislocation often occurs during relocation. In the case of trauma prior to arrival, symptoms may often be exacerbated. Fortunately, in the majority of cases, these are temporary and the individual’s pre-mort recollections and memories should return in their entirety. You will also find your appearance has altered during your transition.’

Wait…what? He stopped and looked down at himself. Everything seemed, well…normal. His fur was all there, his mane was back to the colour it should be and his cutie mark was…it was back! It was there! He felt a sudden rush of emotion, a feeling of relief and sheer joy that the cutie mark he had grown up with was back and that awful white lightning flash was gone. Dear Goddesses, he was whole again! He stared at his foreleg too, it was…smooth, smooth and…’lustrous’? Yes! That was the word - lustrous! No scars, no injuries, nothing! He felt better than he had in years! In a sudden burst of enthusiasm he nearly walked head first into the large red painted door, quickly stepping back as a young stallion walked out past him with a mare chattering away at him incessantly. The poor fellow looked as lost as he felt. Was this it then? Was this death? He look up at the bright blue sky and puffs of pure white cloud, it was…beautiful.

“Hoy! Are you coming in or what? There’s a lot of ponies waiting to be seen you know, so you’ll need to get in the queue with the rest.”

A fawn coated stallion in a blue and red trimmed tunic waved him in, the large yellow badge on his chest read ‘Happy to help!’ Bracken walked in quickly, avoiding the stern gaze of the tired looking male. Happy to help…right!

The lobby area was a large open space with huge marble pillars at intervals; grand in its size, yet with a feel of functionality that was only emphasised by the huge number of ponies milling around, each with that now familiar look of bafflement at their current situation. Everypony seemed to be talking at once and the noise was deafening. Neighs, snorts, shouts and in some cases, tears, rolled over Bracken like a wave, adding to his already precarious mental state. Amongst it all, ponies in colourful tabards dodged and weaved, occasionally collecting one of them and taking them up one of the large flights of stairs. Every so often, a pony would trot down the other flight to be eagerly collected by what he presumed were enthusiastic relatives. Bracken found a vacant seat beside a pot plant and waited, clinging to his pink welcome folder like a drowning pony clinging to…

“Excuse me…pardon me…” A female voice shouted over the throng as a young mare pushed through, “Mister Ebony Bracken?” she checked her clipboard before raising her voice even louder, “Mister Ebony Bracken!”

“Hello?” Bracken waved a hoof, “Over here!”

The mare trotted over, “Ah, there you are. Right, room two twenty four.” She nodded to him knowingly, “Let’s shift tail, Mister Bracken, there's a lot of ponies to see today.”

The mare hurried him up the long flight of wooden stairs without another word. He stared about him in wonder at the immensity of the place; the building was simply…vast. In fact, it could be a serious contender for the fortress of the four winds. Secretly, he wondered if there was a bath house here? He could really do with a nice hot soak.

“Here we are!” the mare chirped, bringing him up short, “The case worker will be in to see you before long, so just make yourself comfortable. There’s tea and coffee making facilities, and a shower, but do please try to leave it as you found it?” She opened the door and all but pushed him inside.

“Oh…um…thanks…” Bracken smiled, but the mare was already vanishing back up the corridor. He rolled his eyes and closed the door with a click. He’d never seen anything like this! The bed, neatly laundered and smooth as silk, the curtains, the sink…hot and cold running water! He couldn’t believe it! The shower too, was something he couldn’t believe. Nothing existed in Equestria like this! He played with the levers, alternately burning and freezing himself until he found the ideal temperature. This was incredible! He laughed aloud, the madness and incredulity of it all finally beginning to sink in, almost as much as the water was sinking into his fur. Suddenly, impulsively, he began to sing. It was a bawdy song; a song of mares, of the life of a soldier and…

“Do you normally sing songs like that?” A voice from the bathroom door said casually, “There’s a towel on the side, when you’re ready.”

Bracken gasped, accidentally sucking in a mouthful of water and making himself cough violently. Quickly, he gathered his senses, turned off the water and grabbed the towel. Who the hell was that? He hadn’t been able to see with the water and…damn it! What a bloody introduction! What was he thinking singing that blasted song? Just as well he hadn’t got to the next verse, that one involved loofas and olive oil. He’d never quite worked that one out…

As he dried his mane he checked himself in the mirror. Dear Luna, he really did look the same as he had when he had just left home to join the army, before life had decided to half kill him. He stopped himself; actually…it had, hadn’t it? Sod it all, it wasn’t like things could get any weirder, was it? He wondered for a moment if Chalky was there. Bloody hell, he could have been a few yards away in that mass of equine downstairs and he wouldn’t have seen him. Still, he’d better see to his guest first.

One last look in the mirror and Bracken trotted out of the bathroom. The mare was already sitting in a large chair, her back to him. He caught a glimpse of a long slender green foreleg and the glow of magic surrounding a cup of tea - obviously making herself at home then! He smiled to himself and trotted round to the other chair and bowed,

“Hello Miss. Please forgive my…” His eyes went wide.

The sea green mare smiled up at him with her large yellow eyes,

“Hello Bracken.” Pickles smiled demurely, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Bracken blinked in shock.

“Hoy! Pickles, is he here yet? I swear I’ve searched everywhere for that boy and…” a long haired black mare trotted into the room and locked eyes with him, “Huh! I knew it was only a matter of time.”

Pickles laughed, dabbing the crumbs away from her mouth with a silk hankie, “It always is Neira,” she gave Bracken a wink, “it always is.”

Comments

[Majk]

Welp, i had a feeling Brackens story would end up with him being super dead, but daaaayumn, so much for being 'marked'.