Ice Fall

by Bluespectre

Chapter Fifty Seven - Quiet Reflection

CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN

QUIET REFLECTION

Dray wiped his foreleg across his brow, the sweat stinging his eyes and making him wince. Damn it all, he was getting too old for this, but who else would do it? He reached back and unharnessed himself, leaning on the plough and stretched his back. The sun was still up and it was nearly time to plough the south field. He shook his head in resignation; that bloody army training of his - he just couldn’t give it up, could he? Schedules, notes, lists, it was as much a part of him now as the earth beneath his hooves.

“Ooh, my bloody back!” He groaned and stretched out his forelegs, giving himself a hard shake. Unexpectedly, Dray felt a hoof on his back: it was firm, yet soft, pushing into his aching muscles and massaging the tension and pain away. He sighed, leaning back into the pressure and rumbled low in his throat, “Mmm, you’re good at that…”

“I was going to say ‘guess who’, but you’re too sharp for me.”

Dray chuckled, “Not as sharp as you, love.”

“No.” a warm muzzle rubbed up along his neck and nibbled his ear, “You’ll never be as sharp as me…my big stallion.”

The General moaned, “What time are they coming over?”

“About four-ish, don’t forget to have a wash up before then.”

“Why are they coming so early?” he complained, “Tea’s not til…”

A hoof plonked itself onto his nose, “Tea’s ready when its ready, grumpy. You have your job and I have mine remember?”

“I know!” Dray said resignedly, “’Keep out of the kitchen…’”

“Damned right, and I know who pinched those bloody biscuits too!”

The grey stallion rolled his eyes, “Sorry, I know, but come on love, I couldn’t help it, they were just too good to stop at just two.”

“Insatiable…” the mare replied with a sigh, “Anyway, there’s another batch on so no more pinching!”

“No!” Dray chuckled, “I promise…”

“Really?”

“I…” Dray suddenly barked out a laugh as hooves began to dig into his ribs and tickle him for all they were worth.

“Who nicked the biscuits?”

“It was me!” Dray shouted, laughing under the assault.

“And you won’t eat these will you?”

“No! No, I promise! Please! I give in!” The tickling stopped, leaving Dray on his back heaving and shaking while he wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes, “That wasn’t fair, you know.”

“Aw, the brave general taken down so easily? You big foal!” the large red mare clambered across his belly and leaned down, locking his forelegs behind hers, “I’ve got you now…do you surrender?”

Dray snorted, “Aye…”

The mare lifted an eyebrow, “I do have a spare treat for you though.” She leaned down and lifted out a biscuit in her mouth, moving closer to Drays muzzle, “Fancy a nibble?”

“Heather, I’m supposed to be ploughing the south field and…”

The biscuit pressed into his lips. Goddesses, she was so close, her eyes so big and bright, the smell of warm baked sweetness…

He lunged for the crumbly treat, but she dodged away, grinning, “Ah, ah!” she teased, “You lead me a merry dance all these years, my stallion.” She leaned closer, brushing the biscuit against his mouth, slowly pushing it in, “Now…you’re going to make it up to me.”

“Mmmf!” Dray munched on the biscuit, one bite at a time, tasting the delicious sweetness of the crumbly treat and…

Wild pulled away, licking the crumbs from her mouth,

“Now, for the main course…”

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

“Come on, for goodness sake, how can a stallion take so long to get ready?”

Gretel hurried around the cabin, gathering her things.

“Look who’s talking!” Chalk called over his shoulder, “You’re the one who started mucking about with that bloody trader when you said we had to get ourselves sorted out.”

“Well somepony’s got to think about these things.” Gretel fussed, grabbing her hat and coat, “Are you ready now?”

“Yes!”

“Finally!” Gretel took a deep breath and looked her husband up and down, pulling and tucking here and there, “Do you really need to bring that sword along?”

Chalk closed his eyes a moment, “It’s a formal event, love. Besides…it’s special to me.” He gave her a wink, “Like you.”

The red mare sniffed, “And so I should be.” She chuckled and gave her mane a quick final adjustment, “Well? How do I look?”

“Hmm…” Chalk squinted at her and leaned forward, adjusting her hat, “Delicious.”

“I hope so.” She smiled, and turned for the door, “After you, Master Wind Mage.”

Chalk dutifully bowed and trotted out. “OW!” he squeaked, jumping round, “Bloody hell, Gretel!”

The red mare grinned wickedly, her tail held high, “Just checking.”

“For what?!” Chalk called after her, rubbing his sore rump.

Gretel called back over her shoulder, “For tenderness!” She trotted for the gangplank, “Soft flanks!”

There was a burst of laughter from the crew as Chalk charged after the retreating form of the cheeky mare. Down on the dockside, several officers and crew joined them, in fact, by the looks of things, most of the crew of the Revenge were there. Trotting up to the meet them were some other familiar faces too: Strata, Doc, Gal the harbour master and even Chalk’s mother.

“Looks like the gangs all here.” Gretel muttered, “Are you sure your mum’s, you know, alright with…you know…”

“Gretel, stop it!” Chalk hissed, “It’s fine!”

Bracken’s mother and father greeted him as always, even his friend’s sister, now a surly teenager, gave him a reluctant hug. She was more interested in Gretel and the ship, and the little beggar had even tried to stow away on one visit after she’d had a row with her parents. Thank goodness Amy had told Gretel where she was or they’d never have heard the end of it. As it was, her mum was furious, but her father was…oddly accepting of the situation. Probably, Chalk guessed, because he now had the contract for repairs to the Amethyst Fleet, as indeed had his own mother, the two families now closer than ever after… He sighed, looking away. He’d never found him, no matter how hard he’d looked…and Goddesses, how he’d looked…

“Love?” Gretel nudged him, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” Chalk said quietly, “I…I miss him. I just wish…”

The Captain pushed into him comfortingly, “I know, love; you tried, we all did.”

They’d scoured the battlefield for days, given out descriptions to the burial parties, but of the black pony with the blue mane and grey eyes, there was no sign. Most of the dead had been buried in a large grave, unknown, or unidentifiable. The thestrals of the Legion and their allies had been cremated and their ashes thrown into the sea, the tide taking their remains away forever. Traders had made a fortune of course, themselves included: weapons, armour, equipment, the evidence of that terrible conflict, had been stacked into the holds of the Wind Wraith and the Revenge to be sold to the highest bidder, be it Llamalian, Yak…it didn’t matter…bits were bits.

Chalk had been inconsolable for days afterwards, worrying Gretel with his dark mood and uncharacteristic behaviour. Thank the Goddesses she was as strong a pony as she was. Other wouldn’t have tolerated his behaviour, nor his drinking or rages at the world. Finally, she’d thrown him in the brig along with a bucket of ice cold water for good measure. That had worked; he’d spent days in there, raging at the world, at Celestia, at the Legion, at everything until she’d finally come to see him…the red mare who had come to collect her broken stallion and remake him anew. And here he was - neat, trim and married to the most wonderful sky galleon Captain in Equestria.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

“About you.” He whispered back, “About how much I love you.”

She shook her head, “Chalky, Bracken’s parents…do you think, you know, they’ll be alright? It’s going to be a big do and…”

“Will you stop worrying!” Chalk hissed, “Good grief, Gretel, you tell me off for doing that!”

“I know!” she replied, making sure nopony was watching, “But they’ve hardly said anything since he disappeared!”

She was right of course. Bracks mum and dad had taken the disappearance of their son surprisingly well. His mother seemed to think he’d be back to see them when he was ready and his dad did too. Rather typically, his sister didn’t seem to care one way or another. Maybe it had been the long adventures the two friends went on that lead Bracken’s parents to come that conclusion, but after months and then years had passed with no word, it became increasingly clear that the black coated earth stallion wasn’t coming back. And yet life went on: the world kept rumbling along as it always had, the sun rose into the sky in the morning and the moon rose at night - it just didn’t seem right…or fair. Maybe he was still out there somewhere having the time of his life; by the Goddesses, Chalk hoped so. If there was ever a pony who deserved a break, it was Ebony Bracken. Chalk couldn’t help but snigger…’Ebony!’ He shook his head and greeted everypony with a smile and hoof shakes. One day, in this world or the next, he’d see his friend again, and then…well, who could say?

“Come on you lot!” Cyclone shouted down from the Wind Wraith’s deck, “Get your furry bums up here, we want to get underway.”

Chattering amongst themselves loudly, the ponies boarded the sleek vessel. She looked like a new ship now, sporting a fresh coat of paint and gold trimmings. Cyclone herself, positively glowed with enthusiasm, her eyes flashing in the sunlight,

“Gretel!” she rushed up and embraced her friend, “What do you think? Can those griffin’s paint, or what? And the price! I’d have done it sooner if I’d known. You really have to get the Revenge over there.” She held up a hoof conspiratorially, “Don’t say anything to Stock, but I think the Lord’s got a thing for me.” She winked knowingly.

Gretel barked out a laugh, “Maybe. I’ll ask Amy when she’s feeling up to it.”

“How is she?” Cyclone asked, leaning on the railing, peering out at the Revenge as she rocked at anchor.

“Better, but dragon blood and fire caused a lot of damage, both to physically and mentally. She’s been spending a lot of time with Strata, Haggis and Salty lately, but they think she’s getting back to her old self, I just didn’t want to take her there…you know?” She smiled, “Anyway, how’s young Raid?”

Cyclone rolled her eyes, “A bloody nuisance is what he is! The little sod’s flying already and crashed into that lovely vase I bought in Llamalia.”

“Oh no!”

“I know, right?” the green pegasus said shaking her head, “It cost a leg and a hoof, and now it’s in pieces!”

Gretel sighed, “I meant, how is he? Is he alright?”

“Oh, he’s fine.” Cyclone said with a sigh, “He’s got my speed and Stock’s resilience. I swear, Gretel, the little fellow is part rubber ball.”

“Where is he?”

Cyclone shrugged, “Below in the play room. He had Pepper make it for him, can you believe that? Honestly, he’ll be running the whole ship before long.”

“Ha!” Gretel laughed, “You’ll have to watch him when you’re under sail then.”

“You’re not kidding.” Cyclone replied with a yawn, “He had me up all night flying around the ceiling and today he all but bucked the door down to get out after I told him to stay below. He’s a real hoofful I can tell you.”

“Sounds like a chip off the old block, if you ask me.” Gretel smirked.

Cyclone snorted, “Aye…you may be right.”

“Captain.” Stock’s gruff greeting was as typical as Gretel remembered. She reached forward and gave him hug,

“How are you, big guy? You looking after my other family?”

Stock raised an eyebrow, “All’s well aboard the Wind Wraith, Gretel, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Hmm” she pondered, “I don’t know, you always were a bit of a dark horse, Mister Stock.”

Cyclone tittered behind her stallion, looking away innocently when he turned round.

“Mares…” he muttered and walked off to bark orders to the crew before departure.

Around the ships wheel, the helmsponies had gathered, exchanging stories and gossip. Salty, Haggis, Salt and Pepper were chattering away like old hens. Gretel couldn’t help but raise a smile; she could feel the Wind Wraith now, as much as she could her own ship, and the sense of togetherness, of family, felt stronger now than it ever had. Today, for the first time in however long, she was able to relax and watch other ponies doing the work. Chalk had offered to lend a hoof, but the wind today promised to be good and the skies clear for some good plain sailing. Speaking of whom, a pair of white forelegs appeared beside her, along with a white muzzle resting on them and watching the water in the river below with those large green eyes.

Gretel smiled at him and carefully, silently, snuggled up to him. It was a cool day, a day when the last of the ice was thawing and the first hints of warmer days were on the horizon. It was all about hope wasn’t it…like it had been back then; the hope for a better, brighter tomorrow, for all of them - for everypony. The red coated Captain watched the river drift by, rippling along the side of the hull and finally dropping away as the sleek vessel pulled herself free of the suction of the water and into her true element…the sky. Chalk remained silent, occasionally closing his eyes and hiding his face before looking back out over the land he’d fought to protect alongside so many others. Gretel sighed; it had been a terrible price to pay, and one she prayed they never had to again, not in her lifetime or - perhaps one day - her foal’s. A shiver ran through her, not of fear, but of cold; it was still bitter this time of year. She spoke quietly to her husband,

“Are you alright, love? Do you want me to fetch a cloak for you?”

Chalk shook his head. A few seconds later he closed his eyes and smiled sadly,

“I don’t know what to think about all of this,” he said quietly, “memorials, speeches and all that sort of thing.”

“It’s so ponies don’t forget, love.” Gretel replied, “Nopony should forget the sacrifice that so many made.”

Chalk nodded, “I know, it’s just…part of me wants to forget, to put it all out of my mind. But…sometimes…sometimes I wake up in the night, and it’s all so real, all of it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget, but Gretel…I just wish I could.” He looked across at her, “Does that make me selfish? Uncaring?”

“No…no, of course not.” Gretel rubbed Chalk’s shoulders lovingly, “You’re the least selfish or uncaring pony I know.” She gave him a wink, “Except me, naturally.”

Chalk smiled, his eyes glinting in the morning sunshine, but that inner light, that spark of life within them that Gretel remembered from the first time she’d met him, would probably never be as bright as it once had been. The war, the terrible slaughter both during and after the battle, had done something to them, to all of them - she could see it in their eyes. Gretel sighed,

“The loss of innocence” she muttered out loud.

“Huh?” Chalk looked up at her.

“Don’t mind me,” she said pushing herself away from the railing, “come on hubby, it’s warmer below and they’ve got hot rum with honey and cinnamon cakes.”

Chalk’s ear twitched.

“They’re fresh too…straight out of the oven.” She leaned into him, “Warm and sweet…so delicious…”

“Hot rum? Honey and cinnamon cakes?” Chalk pushed himself away from the railing, “I think I could live with that.” He stretched and gave Gretel a quick kiss on the nose, “With my mare beside me, I think I could be tempted.”

“Come on, you.” Gretel gave him a gentle nuzzle and the two trotted below decks and joined their friends in their reminiscing and celebrations.

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

Celestia shook her mane, adjusting her crown and gorget while Lilly fussed around her like an orange tugboat. It still felt strange, even after these last few years, to have these upon her every day, to feel the weight of responsibility rather than the more tangible weight of her armour. She’d become so used to wearing it during that time, that… She sighed and shook her mane. No, the past was something that should stay there, something that should be learned from, a source of lessons to teach future generations. It was not a place for any pony to dwell - or an alicorn.

The palace was almost complete now, along with the new buildings, taverns, markets and traders that were springing up everywhere. The finest artisans and craftsponies had been brought in to help build the new capital city: the beautiful and elegant home of the Princess – ‘Canterlot’. She liked the name, it felt noble, regal even, and yet added an aire of mystery and anticipation, or at least, she liked to think it did. And what did it matter anyway? It was no fortress, nor was it intended to be. No, this was a home for ponies, a place of peace, music, laughter and song - a home for all who would share the love of life, sheltered beneath the wings of their Princess and the sun’s warmth.

Of Starswirl, there was no sign and no word. After they had relocated the massive portal, the eccentric grey unicorn had disappeared into his rooms and all but barricaded himself in like some pony shaped hermit crab. Only the maids ever saw him now, or her, occasionally, and the answer was always the same…’nearly’. She’d given him the box to use, as much as it tore at her heart to do so, and of course he’d promised not to injure it in any way, and yet…still nothing. Now, with the box gone, she had lost even that link to Rush. She sighed, and gazed at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Had she always looked so old?

“You look wonderful.” Lilly reached up and made a final adjustment, nodding to herself in satisfaction, “The royal chariot has been made ready, Your Majesty.”

Celestia nodded, pushing down the icy tendrils of dread that lurked beneath her calm exterior. It was a task she needed to undertake; not for her, but for her people, and Gods help her, she didn’t want to see that terrible place again. The land had healed itself certainly, the scars of war mended by time and nature, but the memories…the memories were still there. She kissed Lilly on the forehead,

“Thank you Lilly, you can have the rest of the day off.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” She curtsied.

She wouldn’t of course, Lilly would wait until the Princess had left and then carry on cleaning and tidying until it was near gleaming. The girl had even taken quarters nearby so she didn’t have far to travel when Celestia needed her. Such devotion…the Princess smiled to herself sadly; in some ways she wished Lilly would just find somepony special and settle down with them. She could still work for her of course, still live in the palace, but, she’d found her happiness, and this was it. Who was she to criticise her? Everypony found their own path in life: some easily, some not so, but the path was always there, ready to take them on adventures for which there was no map, no clear course ahead - just hope.

The chariot creaked as she boarded and settled herself in. Her guards knew their job well, and soon, they were up in the sky with barely a jolt. It was a pleasant flight, one she would have liked to have made by herself, but a ruler had to uphold certain standards, certain ideals, and ponies expected this sort of thing. Inside, part of her wanted to throw off the trappings of her office, buck down the door to Starswirl’s room, snatch the box and just run off into the hills, to disappear from everypony and just…live…live and be free, like he was…wherever he was.

The chariot was beginning to descend already. Celestia resettled her wings and gazed out at the field of ponies arranged in a large semi circle before the huge stone monument. For a moment, just the briefest of moments, she thought she saw them - the army, standing proud with their banners snapping in the wind, the sound of trumpets and the rumble of hooves…

“Your Majesty…” the guardspony held out his hoof to help her down, shaking her from her distracting thoughts.

“Thank you, soldier.” She said politely, taking the proffered hoof and stepping down lightly onto that most sacred of grounds.

The monument was immense, carved from a solid block of marble from the royal quarry, the same quarry that had provided the stone to build the palace. It seemed fitting somehow. She looked up at the statue above, at the large stallion carrying the banner, the banner of Equestria - carved with both the sun and the moon. It was a symbol of both respect for the fallen, and yet also hope…hope that some day, Luna would come home and Equestria would be healed fully, as she deserved. Celestia ran her roof reverently over the inscriptions; the names of those they knew who had died here, carved into the smooth cold surface. There were so many…so, so many…

The Princess looked up once more at the pony holding the banner, the way he looked as though he were facing into the wind, facing down a great storm with defiance, pride and resolve. He looked…familiar…but then, so many of her sons and daughters had died that day, and the days, weeks and months before it. Could she have done things differently? Could she have… She shook her head; how many times had she thought about this? How many sleepless nights had she lain away remembering what had happened? She could still hear the screams, the cries of pain and fear…screams that she had…

A soldier bowed before her,

“Your Majesty…” he indicated to the podium that had been set up before the great monument, bedecked with the royal banners and a magical voice enhancer, courtesy of Starswirl in one of his more helpful moments. He hadn’t forgiven her for what she’d done: stealing his plans for the explosive devices and manufacturing them for use against the Legion. He’d gone beserk, raging and screaming at her with complete abandon, and yet, all she’d been able to do was stand there and hang her head in shame. Of course, he knew why she’d done it, of course he had, but the death and suffering his inventions had caused, had hurt him more than she’d thought. But then, she hadnt thought of that had she? All she’d been concerned about was winning the war and defeating her enemy.

Thank the Gods, Starswirl hadn’t left. She would have pleaded, begged, debased herself at his hooves if he’d asked, but instead, all he’d wanted was the devices destroyed along with the plans. She’d agreed; Gods, what a fool she’d been…

Celestia stood before her people. They were all there: General Dray and his officers, mostly retired now, the Captains and crew of the Amethyst Fleet, and so many more, all looking to her and standing respectfully. She pressed the jewel on the box and the magical device hummed into life,

“Sons and Daughters of Equestria, thank you for coming here today. As you know, today makes the anniversary of the second battle of River Valley and the liberation of our home…”

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

Chalk yawned, receiving a jab in his ribs for his efforts.

“Goddesses,” he muttered under his breath, “Is that it? I thought my ears were going to drop off.”

“Chalky! Shut up will you!” Gretel hissed, “Quick, stand up.”

“Bugger it…” Chalk pulled himself to his hooves as the rest of the attendees stood and the band began to play the Equestrian national anthem. Chalk hated singing, and formal occasions even more. But that said…that statue, he couldn’t help but keep staring at it. For the life of him, it looked like…

”Brack”

Gretel shot him a look as she sang. She really had a beautiful voice too, if a little grating. Not that he’d tell her that of course, she had a lot of strength in those legs, that mare. But…Bracken… Oh Goddesses, where was he? The white unicorn stared up at the statue and listened as the final verse of the anthem came to a close. In a daze he sat with the rest, and bowed his head in prayer for the lost, for those who were buried upon this ground without a name, with nopony to remember them.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts, please stand.”

The Princess’s voice called out as the army bugle began to play. It was the last call, the one that signalled the end of the day’s orders and time for the soldiers to retire to bed ready for another day. Goddesses, had it always sounded like that? It was like the sound of souls crying out from their graves, calling out for their friends and loved ones to remember them, to always remember who they were…

Chalk shuddered. He tried to hold back the tears, tried to keep his composure, but it was no use. All his pain, all his suffering and sorrow, the terrible things he’d seen, the loss of his friend, all of it, mingled with the suffering of his fellow Equestrians…it was too much, all of it was just too much. How could he go on like this? How was he here and not with them? It wasn’t fair! None of it, none of it was…

Gretel held him as he cried, holding her beloved Chalk as the last note of the bugle died away, echoing across the peaceful stillness of the valley. Dray’s voice, heavy with emotion, echoed out around them,

“You fought by my side. You lived as my brother, my sister, my friend. We sang, we laughed, we bled, and we died…together. Those of us who live today, left a part of who we are, buried with you. But even though the memories will dim in time, even as the echo of the trumpets call fades, we will remember you. My brothers, my sisters, we shall always remember you.”

Dray walked slowly down from the podium to a large circular stone set in the ground before them, taking up a burning torch in his forehooves. The Princess bowed, as they all did, as the flame caught and flared up into the clear, free sky of Equestria. As one, they spoke the final words,

“We shall always remember you.”

Chalk pressed his muzzle into Gretel’s neck, mouthing the words his voice could not speak.

He would remember.

He would always remember.