Mission 7, Part 14: Battle of Good Wind Sands
The Night Guards roughly shackled Static to the middle of three stakes being used to hold up one of the larger tents, albeit one with more holes than in the canopy than fabric, before they placed an almost too familiar ring at the end of his horn. At once he felt the magic in him slip away, and he felt forward. It was an act; he had been trained to cope when magic was cut off, but he had to keep up even the slightest details of his deception. He moaned and clumsily reached up to his horn, but the chains were too short.
“We will come back for you later,” The Night Guard stated.
“What did I do wrong?” Static asked, making his voice seem strained and pained, “I didn’t do anything!”
“That’s not for us to decide. His Eminence has commanded for you to be clasped in chains and be held here, so you shall be clasped in chains and you shall remain here,” with that they turned toward the tent’s entrance, they stopped just before it. Laying on the ground there was a sleeping mare who was in a similar fashion to Static, chained to the stake holding one of the ends of the tent up. The Guard who had spoken to Static kicked her in the face, while the other slowly circled around her.
She grunted and looked up, recognition flashing in her eyes.
“You have company, traitor.”
“You’re the traitor here,” the mare growled. “Stargazer,” she spat out, “the Princess will have your head for this.”
“The False Princess will follow shortly. And in her place the true Queen shall rise and bring about a new golden age of glory for ponykind.”
“Please don’t do this,” the mare pleaded. “You’re my friend!”
“You should have stayed back home like we told you to, Sonata,” the other Guard replied from behind her, “it is only yourself that you have to blame.”
She whirled around, the chains rattling, and made eye contact with him. “Comet,” a tear fell from her eye as she muttered out, in a cracking voice, perhaps louder than she meant to, as Static could hear her, “I loved you.”
“And you chose wrong,” came the baritone response, “for that, you will die. I feel no sympathy for you, foolish mare. Farewell.”
The two Guards left the tent, leaving the mare and Static to themselves.
She noticed Static staring at her and she looked away in defeat. “What, you slack off and they chained you here?”
“Something like that,” Static replied, still keeping a modicum of suspicion towards the mare. “You?”
“Me?” she asked as if the question was stupidest one she had ever heard. “What were you doing on the ship?”
“I was in the kitchen most of the time,” Static replied trying not to gain suspicion.
The mare sighed. “So then why are you asking me that? You should know since you were there.”
“I might have been busy,” Static replied cryptically. “Humor me.”
The mare laughed coldly. “Name’s Sonata Song, and I’m an ex-Night Guard and traitor to Celestia.”
“You should be executed for supporting that… that… monster!” Static said automatically, still keeping in character. He felt awful calling the Princess a monster, but he knew that she’d forgive him – if she found out about it… and if he got out alive. Always good to keep that in mind too.
“You really think that? After what was done to me? Or do you really not know?” Sonata stared at Static with shock. She sighed and rolled her eyes, “I thought they were going after the Cultists to take down Night Terror and bring him in. I thought they were going to do the right thing. I thought they were good and loyal Guards that served Her Highness. I thought they were ponies I could trust. I wanted to be by their side in case they needed my help. I thought… I thought they were my friends.”
“You thought wrong,” Static replied.
“Y’think?” she coughed out a sarcastic laugh and leaned back against the post she was chained to and sighed. She winced and turned her body to get comfortable, revealing badly damaged wings. All doubt escaped Static the instant he saw them. In a few places the bones were poking out, and the feathers had been ripped off. He could not imagine the agony she would have to be in, even if they did it while she was anaesthetised, which he highly doubted she was. No, this was something that they would do by holding her down and ripping them off as a public show to those who had even the slightest thought about betraying the Children of the Night.
“Did you learn your lesson?” Static asked as he looked at the mare.
“Get these chains off me and I’ll show you how much,” she said and walked towards him straining against her chains. “If I get free, I’m going to find those two, and I’m going to slice off the things that make them stallions and feed it to the nearest wyrm!”
Static smirked at that, “I see. Can I hold you to that?”
The mare turned away and walked back to her space in the shade, “Sure. Why not?” She paused, “Why?”
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly, but shrugged and went back to rest on the sand near the shadiest part of the ground she could reach.
“Incoming!”
The bolts from the cultist’s dozens of ballista struck the peninsula with tremendous roars, but the Elites had hidden themselves well. Even so, every one of the Watu knew that the next volley would be fired soon enough, and with it another chance of losing valuable warriors and even worse; their position being compromised.
Still, the odds of that happening were miniscule.
At least that was what they thought until the boulder behind and above them was hit.
“Move!” came a shout and the others scrambled out of the way.
The boulder tumbled down and smashed into the leveled area where they had just been, decimating their hiding area and taking half their bolts and quarrels with it. Without that cover, they were now split into tiny teams that were isolated from each other. There was no way for them to remain where they were and be effective. They would succumb to the large bolts for certain.
At once, without word, the entire Elite line moved forwards, down into the sandstorm.
If it was to be a fight, then it would be a fight where they had the advantage. Up close and personal.
Twenty-seven Elites against an unknown number of Cultists.
Slasher followed closely behind the Guard. “We go to our deaths.”
“Stay low, keep your shield up, and you might not,” Semper grunted through his canter.
“Aye-aye, sir.”
But none of them really believed it.
“They’re coming!” Lapel screamed. “I saw them! Thousands of them! They! Are! Coming!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! When that boulder fell, I saw them! They’re coming!”
“You will remain in-line!” a voice commanded. “Do not break!”
“No, no, no, no, no!” Lapel screamed. “They’ll kill us all! They’re coming! Oh, my Night Queen, they’re coming!”
“Get that lunatic under control,” one of the Night Guards ordered.
Lapel turned, but was met with two other ponies. They saw the terror in her eyes and shifted in their places. They were not soldiers. This wasn’t supposed to be a battle. None of the others had said anything about having to fight like this. They said that they were on their way to welcome the Queen, it was to be a joyous occasion. How had they been caught up in this?
“Get out of my way!” Lapel screamed and shoved, trying to break through the second line.
“Stand your ground!” an order went out and a mare trotted towards the panicked pony. “Stand your ground and await further orders!”
Lapel was beyond listening to orders or reason. She again tried to push out, tried to get back to safety. Safety, by getting back to Night Terror, he would protect her. She knew he would. He had to. She was one of his favorites. She had given her body to him many times. He would not let one of his favorites die. She knew that. She knew. And these idiots were blocking her. She had only gone to the lines to help out, not to fight. She didn’t know how to fight. She never wanted to die. Just wanted to help. Not to die. Just to help. Not to die.
She pushed again, and this time she got through. She fell to her face, when she finally got her face out of the sand she looked up. She was lying next to the second line, who had sidestepped to give her room. She looked at the ponies who stood over her and tried to stand, but she tripped on her hooves and went down again. She wasn’t used to wearing armor. It was getting in her way. She wanted to throw it off, but she needed to get out of there first. She needed to get to safety. She needed to-
The stallion next to her pinned her to the ground, keeping her from getting back to safety. They wanted her to die with them. They wanted her to die.
“No! Let me go! Let me go!” she wailed, and tried to shove the stallion on her off. He didn’t budge. “Please! I don’t want to die! Please I don’t… want… to…”
She led out an ear-piercing scream as the blood flowed out of the stallion’s mouth and onto her. She tried to push again, harder, but couldn’t.
“From behind!” a voice shouted.
“Where?”
“Our flank!”
“Watch out!”
Another scream. Another shout. A death knell from the far end of the line. Orders were given, each one contradicting the other. Somewhere the order to charge was given. Elsewhere, to reform the line to enforce the flank. But there was no discipline. Ponies began breaking off and following others, while some just dropped their weapons and fled into the sands.
Chaos. Absolute chaos.
Lapel lay there, in her panic the only reasonable thought that flittered through her mind was to lay still and pretend she too had been killed. At least then she might be missed. She turned her head to one side and watched as shadows in the sands began to descend on the confused Children. She watched as her so-called friends were hacked apart by those shapes that seemed to melt out of the storm around them.
“Please, dear Mother, don’t let them find me,” she whimpered and lay down as still as she could.
A hoof landed next to her, and she looked up to see the masked visage of a stallion. He could not see his eyes, but she could feel them piercing her body. She could feel those eyes penetrate into her very soul. She wanted to scream, but fear muted her.
The stallion gestured with his head, and a large group whisked by without a sound. They were like specters. If it weren’t for the hoofprints they left behind she would have doubted they were there at all. They moved with lethal purpose and deadly grace, and she knew them. She knew them because they were the enemy that she was supposed to face. Supposed to fight.
“What do we do with her?” a voice asked. A stallion’s voice, muffled slightly by the mask he wore.
“Leave her,” a mare stated. “Her reward.”
“The desert will claim her.”
“A fitting punishment.”
“So be it.”
She lay down, as still as she could. She knew it was pointless because they knew she was still alive, but when she heard nothing she dared a quick glance around. Nothing. Nothing but the sands and the dead. At once she felt relief. She wiggled and cursed as she fought her way out from under the stallion’s body. She stood up, stumbling only once.
Then she looked around.
Only to find a cold knot forming in her gut replacing both the relief she felt and her panic. She was alone. Completely, utterly, hopelessly alone.
“Sit down. Shut up. Listen closely. I am not going to repeat myself!” Far Eye shouted. He paced in front of the sorry excuses of recruits. “A line is only as strong as its weakest point. A weak line is useless. You’re better off digging your own grave because that’s what you’ll be in when you’re in a weak line. Now, which of you maggots can tell me what is the worst thing that can happen in a line?”
“The line will break from enemy attack?” a voice asked from the back.
“No! And speak out of turn again, private, and you’ll be running laps with Semper ‘till your hooves are nothing more than bone stubs, you got me?” Far Eye replied without missing a beat. “Anypony else who is not a complete idiot?”
This time there was a show of hooves.
“Yes, private?” Far Eye pointed at a mare who had raised her hoof near the front.
“Panic, sir?”
“Panic. I see somepony actually read the material. That’s right. All of you, give it up for the mare.” There was a light applause. “Knock it off. As pointed out, panic in a line is by far the most dangerous thing. Do any of you sorry excuses for ponies know why?”
This time silence was all that greeted him.
“Anypony at all?”
There was absolute silence.
“Because panic is contagious. When one pony has it, others are likely to follow suit. Even if the ponies stand firm in the line, the panicked pony is a liability. The best thing to do when you have a pony in the line panicking is to let them go and move in to fill the gap. And if you’re the ones lucky enough to see a panicked pony in the enemy’s line, don’t attack the panicker. Get the ones around them. That is far more effective. Let the pony in question continue to disrupt the line for as long as you can. Then, when your forces have gained some sound hoofing, hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast. Remember, the strongest line is one that works together. If you can’t do that, you’re better off not forming a line at all and just charging straight into the enemy. Your chances of survival will be low, I’ll admit it here; charging a line without forming a proper one of your own is like throwing yourselves into a spiked wall. But! Your chances of survival will be a lot higher doing that then charging as a single line with a panicked foal in your ranks. Don’t let it come to that! If there’s a panicked pony in your line, let them go. If that’s not possible… better one than the whole line.” For emphasis, Far Eye threw down his dagger into the ground next to his hoof. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the recruits said uncomfortably.
“I can’t hear you!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Don’t get me wrong. Killing one of our own is never a good thing. But remember this, and remember it well until the day you die. Better one than all. Got that?”
There was a muffled response.
“I can’t hear you!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Very good.”
The first lines in the frontal assault found themselves at the base of the Caldera’s peninsula without having hit the enemy. There was an overwhelming sense of relief and joy from the majority, but the more experienced fighters instantly turned around and put the shields up along their rear. They had bypassed the attackers. That meant one of two things; they had pushed through a section of the line and it had reformed ignoring the enemy and their presence, which meant that they had their rear flank to protect, or the enemy had killed them all, which also meant that they needed to protect their rear flank.
“What do we do?” Allegro asked. The earth pony was holding his shield close to his chest and peeking over the top at the rear. The sand was clearing, but they still couldn’t see very far.
“We form a line here, and the others press onwards and upwards. We need to get in before they find the Stone!” Enamel shouted back. “I am responsible for this line’s advance and if they’re giving us this position, I’m not going to waste it. Form up!”
“Form up!” a voice shouted in response.
“Form up!” another echoed from down the line.
“But, sir! They’re behind us.”
“I know that. But that’s why our line here will protect us, right?”
“But we’ll be fighting on two fronts, sir,” Allegro pointed out.
“Unavoidable. Protect our rear and protect it well. We’ll be counting on you.” He turned and looked across the advancing force. “As a line! Forward, march!”
“Forward!”
“Forward!”
Only two shouts as opposed to four. Half of their forces were missing, staying behind to protect their rear from whatever was out there.
“Allegro, you will hold here, understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
With that, Enamel and more than half of their force started to climb, trying to keep as straight a line as they could.
Allegro watched as the the advance moved up. He could not help but watch. He turned to the storm with trepidation. They could hardly see anything beyond a hundred or so yards, well within striking range of crossbows.
“Crossbows, load!” Allegro shouted. “And keep those shields ready!”
At once there was a string of noises as the line began to obey the order. He waited. Allegro wasn’t a battle-hardened veteran, but he knew that the loading was taking achingly slow. It was allowing their enemy time to ready themselves. Half of him wanted to order his line to charge into the storm, but he had been ordered to stay.
“Noise discipline!” he called.
“Shut up!” another commander vociferated.
“Quiet!”
An eerie quiet, save for the sound of the wind, formed around them.
“Did you hear that?” a voice asked.
“Yeah…” came a fearful response.
“Shut. Up!” Allegro bit back through gritted teeth. “Stay yourselves!”
This time they all heard it. A loud roar. A roar of many ponies. A vocal challenge.
“Get ready!” Allegro demanded.
A sound came from somewhere in front of them. Then the dull noise of something hitting the sands in front of the line. It took all but a moment for Allegro to see. He raised his shields up and braced himself and hoped that the others had the sense to do the same.
A line of explosive quarrels detonated along the line. A few screams echoed, only to be lost in the storm. Allegro looked to his right, about ten ponies down the line one of the recent recruits was moaning as he held his leg. He looked away and swallowed his urge to hurl, the lower half of the pony’s leg was missing, bits of it were strewn around. Worse, was that lying on the ground next to the wounded pony, eyes still and lifeless was one of the Guards. Allegro didn’t recognize the pegasus, but the painted armor spoke his former loyalties, now it, and the Guard’s chest, were torn asunder.
“Fire! Let them have it!” came a shout.
“Wait!” Allegro retorted and turned to look to his line, but it was too late. They fired blindly into the storm, and automatically began to reload. Those few that were quick had already started to fire a second shot through the air. “Stop!”
At once the storm seemed to darken behind him. A cold shudder ran up his spine.
“Shields up!” he screamed.
The barrage hit the line hard. Really hard. Quarrels and bolts sang through the air in a wave of death. Allegro held his shield over his head for as long as he dared.
“Return fire!” a shout called.
“Belay that order!” Allegro coughed, but his voice was muted by the sounds of a bolt landing just in front of him. He raised shield again just as the bolt detonated in a powerful blast of ice that spread out like some crystalline flower.
A roar, a much more savage one, sounded.
They were charging.
“Charge! Attack!”
“No! Hold the line!” came another shout.
“Hold!” echoed another.
“Attack!” another insisted.
“Charge!”
The line was in chaos. Half the ponies had already begun to push into the storm, others milled around in confusion, but the attackers seemed to pull those nearest to them along.
“Stop!” Allegro ordered, but his words died in his throat. He had no choice. They were committed. If the line split, they would stand no chance. No chance at all. He gritted his teeth and followed the rest of his line into the storm.
His vision was blurred. The quarrels had kicked up the sand again giving it renewed life, but he kept his eye on the pony in front of him. He held his shield in front and narrowed his eyes. Something rushed by his face. The bolt had missed him by inches and, hearing the grunt and heavy thud behind him, he knew it must have claimed another. He continued on and then saw it. A line. A perfect and almost unbroken line.
Something moved past him, but he did not pay it any attention. A pony, perhaps from his line, seeing the enemy, turned and fled at the sight. He closed his eyes and said a prayer to his Queen. He would undoubtedly praise her for the rest of his life if he lived through this. He really would.
He braced himself for impact.
As he slammed into the pony in front with his shield, he drew back his spear and plunged forwards, pushing hard. He was not fully committed to battle, but now he had to be. His line. His command. Everything he had strived for and believed in were now put to the ultimate test. And he fought hard and true, pushing hard and trying to break through into the enemy as best he could. He saw a defender to his left raise a shield and push a spear forward. He could not stop it.
Then a pony behind him, covering his rear, blocked the spear and cut his way into the line. The sand danced around them making it impossible to see, but he tried to memorize something about the pony to thank him or her later. Then he felt something to his right and saw another pony push hard and his instinct kicked in. Both pushed and turned, prying the defensive barrier apart and allowing the others that followed through the hole to flank them.
They had done it. They had broken through.
He turned aside through the barely open line and pushed hard to split it to allow more of his forces through. As he stood behind the line, he was about to start culling the defenders from behind when he spotted a pony drawing a crossbow and aiming at him. Allegro threw a dagger blindly making the defender flinch, but they fired nonetheless. He raised his shield in defiance, it deflected the bolt to the side.
He was grateful it wasn’t a quarrel.
Just then a bolt sang over his shoulder hitting the pony, making them drop almost instantly. He turned to thank the pony and his whole world froze.
In the time it took for him to process what he saw, he finally understood it all. Understood what had happened and, as the blade extracted itself from his chest, knew that they had been had.
The Guard stood over him for the briefest of moments, gazing down as his life ebbed away through his wound. And, as the pony charged into the chaos and into the storm, he just wanted to laugh at the futility of it all.
They were played. Utterly and completely.
Enamel heard the roar and the commotion and turned. From his vantage, he could see his line under the command of a new, but competent pony. Allegro was cautious, too cautious for his liking, but he understood how to fight. He had survived a few skirmishes with Guards in the past, though never in an outright battle like this one. Still, Enamel had to hurry and take advantage of the mistake the Watu made, putting a huge gap between himself and the line of their rearguard.
When he saw what he did, he immediately regretted it.
His voice was too weak to be heard over the wind and it was fruitless to risk a runner to return down the slope. It would already be far too late.
From where he stood he saw the whole thing unfold with a textbook execution.
Their lines were split. There was nothing they could do about that with such low visibility, but what they had not factored in was that had been intentional. The enemy had forced the line to break by attacking and corralling the heavier side somehow. With the numbers he saw, it was most likely through using hit-and-fade tactics by manipulating quarrels and bolts to help keep the lines apart. The enemy had essentially slowed the vast majority of their forces down to a near crawl and, if it was him giving the orders, slew any of the commanders or officers that stood between the now split lines until there was no clear, complete or at all competent chain of command. Orders could never reach from their main command to the units further down the line.
That was where everything started.
He led his line, his drive and want leading his group right to the base of the peninsula left them almost completely alone. That was when he should have sensed that something was wrong. Should have, but did not. He should have listened to Allegro when he pointed out that fact alone. Should have, but did not. He should have ordered the lines to reform, but the danger of an attack from the top of the peninsula was too great to ignore. He should have known better, but did not.
As he stood there, he watched as a small band, for that was all that it was, fire a salvo of bolts in front of the line had had left to protect his rear. The quarrels exploded, causing panic and confusion in the ranks. That was when the band turned and fired a salvo of the same into the larger main line slowly, and cautiously, marching through the sand storm towards the base of the Caldera. The rest of their forces. A far larger and more organized force with a lot more veterans.
Towards Allegro, they had meant to confuse and harass, but they had fired into the main line without remorse. Through the break in the winds, he saw many fall victim to the attack. Cowardly, but effective. In retaliation, the main line formed up and fired back, but not at the line of rabble in the middle, but over them and into their allies. They had guessed that the Watu had formed a defensive line there. After all, who in their right minds would suspect a small band to hide in the middle of two lines?
But they guessed wrong, and his own forces paid the ultimate price for it. The wave of bolts were like a blanket of death as they hit Allegro’s forces.
The group in the middle then kept firing towards both sides remorselessly, each explosive quarrel kicking up sand and helping keep visibility low.
Then the order to attack was heard.
They had not seen him.
It wasn’t that they didn’t notice him slipping into the line, it was because he had been hiding behind them the entire time. Instead of attacking the ponies around him, he began to assert himself into their ranks as a commander.
That was fatal flaw with working with a mixed force like they did. They had no idea who he was or where he came from. But he carried such an aura of authority and expectation that it was clear this was a pony they could rely on. A pony who deserved to be in charge. A pony to be obeyed. And if this pony charged the enemy, then the others were obligated to follow.
And that was what had happened.
He could have hidden in plain sight, none of them would have recognized him. Enamel vowed to remember this and take that lesson to heart. If he survived.
Enamel had fell to his knees as Allegro committed himself and attacked. He understood there had been no choice. It was the right thing to do. Splitting the small and broken line any further was far more dangerous and fatal. And using that, utilizing that confusion and chaos, the Elites charged with the rest of Allegro’s forces. They even had to the audacity to cover the commanders so that their orders could still be heard and obeyed as they charged forth.
Once they had broken through, the Elites continued on past the now fractured line. Then they left the two lines to continue battling it out. And battle it out they did; each line thought that the other was the enemy, they did not realize they were slaying their own. Each line thought that they had inadvertently found themselves facing against a sizeable main force. Once the battle was underway, the Elites no longer needed to remain and so they slipped away to let the Children fight among each other.
He watched as the Watu disappeared further into the storm and out of sight as they made their way onwards bypassing the line.
Towards the ballistas.
The ballistas that were facing where he stood.
“By the Queen’s word,” Enamel whispered. “Get going! Up!”
“But what about them?” his vice-commander asked.
“Too late. They’re all dead. Our primary line will cut them apart. They’re done for. We need to get off this cliff-side and we need to do it now! Don’t stand there gawking. Move! Go! Get going! Now! Go, go, go!”
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Oh how irritating. The formatting is all wrong...
8150580
Story is still amazing though, keep it up!
I don't normally do this, it's not in my nature, but I feel I ought to. This started off as a pleasant little story, but turned into a massive epic passing through sea battles, drug busts, kidnapping and raids in tunnels and mansions, and apparently has now turned into something not dissimilar to Dune. I was in it for Pinkie Pie. I've tried to keep up, but after 300000 words and 4 years my interest and attention span has drained somewhat. I'm certain that to many of my fellow readers this is an amazing tale, but I'm afraid that it is no longer to my tastes. Unfollowed.
8150818 Wot he said. Except mumma didn't raise no quitter. So get on with it already
8156099 Haha! My man! For you, I'll post one soon.
Any notion as to roughly when we'll get back to Pinkie Pie in the present? I get that the extended flashback is the meat of the story, but I'd like to at least get a glimpse of the present again.
(ToT) oh no I'm at the point where I will start to wait for the next chapter (T-T)
I love how deep you go with the lore of it and how many diverse character you got in this story
Btw this story is awesome
Deathtap you are awesome, plz continue what you're doing (but plz don't be a George R. R. Martin and kill our favorite character (._.) )
【(ChoCho)】
Looks like a key tactical maneuver on part of the Watu and Semper just occurred. That'll clear up their numbers quite a bit for in the future.
8217841
I'm making the chapters smaller because people kept complaining my chapters were too long before.
Before I read this, what is the Dark tag for ?
And how bad does it get ?
8258791
That's a very subjective question. Think of it like two stories in one. One is very light, the other can get pretty heavy. The heaviness is dark, I will admit.
8281111
... ?
For anyone who likes this story, you may not know me. I'm not the public face, but I've been editing the last few chapters that have been published. Unfortunately, for personal reasons, I am leaving the fandom. However, I don't want deathtap to suddenly be without an editor, so, while I do not speak for him, if anyone is interested, I'm sure that he would be more than happy for the help.
Thank you all.