The Sparrow in the Storm

by The 24th Pegasus

2-15

Clouds darkened over Dry Fens, threatening rain.

Sparrow looked up from the windswept hillside as teams of pegasi worked frantically to hold back the storm even as it grew stronger by the minute. The air was so saturated with moisture and humidity that any clouds they busted simply formed back together somewhere else, usually growing on the looming anvil head of the monstrous thunder cloud plodding closer to the town like tumors on its neck. Though the pegasi were masters of the weather, as Chinook explained it to her, there were some storms that even a legion would struggle to break. And for a supercell grown fat off of the rolling expanse of prairie and fields, one such monster had the town of Dry Fens and the ponies gathered there in its sights.

Despite the storm—or perhaps, because of it—the fields outside of the town were a whirlwind of frantic activity. Pegasi from Lost’s legion dashed about as they struggled to set up tents and cut short the overgrown grasses with scythes and bladed wings, hastily assembling a sprawling parade ground in the face of the advancing storm. Their fervent energy, practically bordering on zealotry, had far outpaced Sparrow’s ability to keep up, and the unicorn had stopped by the foot of the smith’s tent transplanted from Camp Stratopolis to catch her breath. Maybe it was a pegasus thing, or a Cirran thing, but she didn’t understand how the winged ponies could buzz about like hummingbirds in their armor just because an empress was about to be crowned.

Though perhaps that was overselling it, she realized, when a sweaty and panting Chinook fluttered over to her and almost fell out of the sky. Stalks of dried grass clung to his coat, his face, and his sweaty mane. When he sat down next to her, the smell of cut grass clung to him almost as heavily as his sweaty stench. “I think I got grass up my nose,” he groused through a water-eyed wince, and when a sneeze inevitably followed, a few dull green scraps of plant flew away from his face, disappearing into the wind and the rest of the cut lawn around them.

“So long as you don’t sneeze it on me,” Sparrow quipped, and she shifted on her haunches slightly so she and Chinook could lean against each other’s backs for support. With Chinook’s weight to support her, she let her attention wander over the myriad feathery figures flitting from place to place like armored birds as they hastily erected tents and prepared the grounds in a mad rush against the weather. “I don’t get why you guys have to do this now. Why not just wait until the storm passes? That thing looks like it’s going to wash us away.”

A bemused snort escaped Chinook’s nostrils. “We’ve waited this long for our empress to finally accept our pledge. I don’t think there’s a soldier in camp who could bear to wait another day longer. I doubt anypony slept last night after Winds spread the news.”

“Believe me, I tried,” Sparrow grumbled, and her ears momentarily flattened against her helmet of their own accord. “All you birdbrains were singing and celebrating long after I turned in. I’m surprised you even have the strength to fly around today.”

“I suppose there’s nothing more energizing than a dream being realized.” Chinook chuckled when Sparrow gave her head a little shake, and she felt his wings shift against her armored back as they fidgeted of their own accord. “It’s been a fast month. I was excited when Typhoon showed up, and then word got around that she didn’t want to help us revive Cirra or be our empress. A lot of us were confused after that. But then she ran the show for a few weeks and suddenly changed her mind.” He angled his head back a bit to look over his shoulder, and Sparrow turned her head to glance back in response. There, she found a teasing smile on his muzzle. “What did you say to her?”

“Why do you think I said anything?”

“Because it seems like you’ve got a way with words,” Chinook said with a shrug. He let his gaze sweep back out over the fields and his wings relaxed from his sides, the feathers combing into the grass beneath him. “First you convince the Dry Fens soldiers not to kill us, then you convince their legate to come to a peace talk, and now all of a sudden, Typhoon’s willing to be our empress. You must have said something with that silver tongue of yours during the parley yesterday.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sparrow admitted. “I wasn’t even allowed to talk. I just stood by the window and watched it all unfold.”

There was silence between them for a moment until Chinook shifted again. “Well?” he asked, expectantly. “Gonna tell me more?”

Sparrow rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what else to tell you. Typhoon said she wanted peace, but Lost Winds and Singing Sparrow couldn’t see eye to eye. Both accused the other of being the real problem behind the lawlessness of the Frontier, and then when Singing was about to leave, Typhoon asked if he’d stop fighting and swear allegiance to her if she became empress.”

“Huh. You make it sound like Typhoon was desperate.”

“I think she is desperate,” Sparrow said. “She doesn’t want to be an empress. She told me herself. She was afraid that if she became one then she’d break Equestria for good. But I think she’s more worried about what it means for the Frontier if Lost and Singing don’t stop fighting while Equestria is struggling to even get control of itself. There’s a lot of bad things beyond even the Frontier that the Legion used to keep in check, and they’re getting closer and more dangerous.”

“Maybe she’s trying to right her wrongs,” Chinook said after a moment to think. “She sounded like she regrets disbanding the Legion. If she’s reviving Cirra, then she’s reviving the Cirran Legion. If Equestria won’t have us, then she will.”

“Hopefully we make her proud. I know she told me her reasons but I still think getting rid of the Legion was wrong, just like the rest of you. I just hope that bringing it back under Cirra isn’t going to make things worse.” Sparrow let her gaze travel up the hill, to where Lost Winds had relocated his legate’s tent. “I’d hate for her to be wrong twice.”

“She isn’t,” Chinook assured her. “If she didn’t do it, then we’d still be fighting over Dry Fens. I know there’s going to be a lot of animosity between us and them, but united under Typhoon, I think we can patch up our differences. Especially if there’s bad things beyond the Frontier we need to deal with.”

The unicorn nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Between the monsters, the bandits, and the free cities, I think we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Sparrow scoffed at the last one on the list. “I never even heard of the free cities, at least, nothing more than rumors, and I grew up out here. Kinda ironic that they call themselves that and they’re big into slavery. And something tells me they’re going to be a bigger problem than bandits and monsters.”

“Monsters don’t think, and bandits think only slightly more. The free cities are organized and wealthy. They’re the ones who are profiting the most with the Legion gone. They’re the ones we should be fighting, not each other.”

Taking a breath, Chinook leaned forward, giving Sparrow a moment to shift her weight and support herself before standing up. When he did, he gave his head and wings a vigorous shake, as much to knock the grass and grit off of them as to invigorate sore muscles, and stretched his legs out. “Okay, that’s enough rest. If Tern sees us sitting out here he’s gonna kill us both, and that’s gonna put a damper on Typhoon’s coronation. We don’t have much time before it’s supposed to start.”

“Yeah…” Sparrow reluctantly agreed, and she grimaced when she made herself stand up on aching limbs that had just started to lock up from rest. She likewise tried to shake some life into her body and she gave Chinook a parting wave. “Have fun being a flying scythe and all. I’m gonna make sure the tents are all set up right.”

“Pssh. Horns are cheating. Why couldn’t you just use a spell and make the grass be perfectly cut?”

“Because I’m not a grass mage, dumbass,” Sparrow said, and with a chuckle, she turned around and set back to her duties, making her way toward the line of tents that had been hastily erected around the portion of the field that had been cut hours earlier.

Standing in the midst of the tents, Sparrow felt like she was back in Camp Stratopolis—which she supposed wasn’t too far off, as they had all come from the camp and been transplanted here, along with the pegasi flying between them. Sparrow was surprised by how quickly the pegasi had abandoned their fortified camp to move almost within bowshot of Dry Fens as soon as Typhoon had announced her intent to proclaim herself (or, rather, allow herself to be proclaimed) Empress of Cirra. It was almost like in their fanaticism and excitement, the pegasi had forgotten their brutal months-long siege against the defenders in Dry Fens and were happy to celebrate the rebirth of Cirra with them.

Of course, what the defenders in Dry Fens thought about it, Sparrow didn’t know. Though Singing Sparrow had made it clear that he would not pressure the ponies defending the town to join him when he pledged allegiance to the soon-to-be Empress Typhoon, Sparrow hadn’t seen any sign of activity from the town apart from the usual sentry clouds they kept posted above and around it. Whether any of the defenders would join Singing Sparrow or not, Sparrow didn’t know. But she knew she wasn’t the only one who, despite all the fanfare and hope for peace, was shooting occasional concerned glances in the direction of the town.

Even though she had told Chinook she was going to focus on setting up more tents, however, Sparrow ultimately decided against that. It was clear from looking around that the main tents were already established, with a few pegasi hauling up ropes to prop up the canopy of the large mess tent that would complete the arrangement. Her horn wasn’t needed anymore, and though she supposed she could grab a scythe and take to the grass like Chinook, she knew she would just be slower than the pegasi flying laps across the grass with the blades in mouth. So instead, she made her way to the legate’s tent, making sure to stay out of the way of the other legionaries running to and fro, and ducked inside the flap.

There, she saw the mare of the hour. Sparrow had never seen Typhoon look so uncomfortable, standing before an armor rack listening to Lost Winds and Tern explain something to her while another pair of legionaries fussed with her armor and her autumnal mane. It was clear to Sparrow at a glance by the look on Typhoon’s face, even though she tried to hide it, that the aging mare did not want to be there. When she saw Sparrow, though, a spark of relief flashed in her eyes, but the abrupt change in her demeanor also alerted Tern, who turned away from the object of his adulation and the conversation he was having with her to frown sharply at his only subordinate unicorn. “What are you doing here, milite? You and your horn were assigned to help out with the tents.”

Sparrow remembered to force herself to salute, even though her lack of wings meant she had to salute with a hoof to her temple like a unicorn knight rather than a Cirran legionary. “The tents are all finished, sir,” Sparrow said, stretching the truth just a little bit. They all would be finished once the rest of the pegasi finished erecting the mess tent that would serve the food for the coronation, which hopefully wouldn’t take much longer. “I came to see if Typhoon needed anything from me.”

“Empress Typhoon,” Tern corrected her. “You will address her with respect.”

But his words earned a harsh look from Typhoon, and that glare rebuked him even before her words did. “I am not anypony’s empress yet,” she reminded him. Then, addressing Sparrow, she said, “I appreciate it, Sparrow. If you’re all finished, you can stay.”

“Happily,” Sparrow said. She stepped further into the tent but hung off to the side; with Lost Winds and Tern around Typhoon, as well as the two legionaries fastening her armor to her body and preparing her for the big event, there wasn’t a lot of space for Sparrow to get close. “I hope you don’t mind the smell of sweat and grass now that you’re all cleaned up for the big day.”

Typhoon’s tail gave a little flick at the quip, though it and her left wing were soon hidden by a Cirran blue cloak one of the other legionaries fastened around the neckline of her armor and draped over the older mare’s body. Lost Winds gave Sparrow a quick, disapproving look, then turned back to Typhoon. “In any event, I will see to it that the appropriate preparations are made on our end. Whether or not Singing Sparrow wishes to join us is irrelevant. The ceremony will be fitting either way.”

“Good. Thanks,” Typhoon said, and after another glance at Sparrow, she cleared her throat. “I’d like to talk with Sparrow for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“…Of course,” Lost Winds eventually agreed, and with a nod to Tern, the two officers started making their way out of the tent. The other two legionaries followed them after a quiet thanks from Typhoon, and soon the only ponies that remained were the empress and legionary who had arrived together as knight and squire not all that long ago.

As soon as they were gone, Typhoon let out a lengthy sigh. “I hate all of this,” she admitted to the young unicorn. “I just want to grab my things and fly away. Run away from it all like I did when I left Everfree. But that wouldn’t help anypony. I’d just be making things worse. Again.”

She looked back over her body, at the blue cloak draping her figure in imperial gravitas, and scowled at it. “I should’ve stayed in Everfree when we defeated the spiders. I thought the Legion was too exhausted from the fighting to wage another battle, and those that wanted to continue to serve as soldiers would join the Royal Guard. I didn’t think they’d see it as my sister making me choose between Equestria and Cirra and fight on my behalf. If I’d known they’d see it that way, I would’ve knelt before her and given her the Legion. Then Equestria wouldn’t be in this problem. The Frontier wouldn’t need an empress and the memory of a dead pegasus empire to keep it safe while Gale barely clings onto Everfree. I’ve done so many things wrong these last few years, and now I can’t help but think I’m just adding to that list. This is a shortsighted mistake that’s going to be a long-term problem.”

“Only if you don’t do anything with it,” Sparrow said, and when Typhoon raised an eyebrow, the unicorn shrugged and strode closer. “Like, if you got crowned and then flew away, then maybe. Somepony here would pick up a sword in your name and start hacking away at all their problems while saying they’re doing it for you, just like Winds was doing before we got here. But ponies here will listen to you, Typhoon. If you stay and get them sorted out, then this won’t be a shortsighted stopgap, but something good!”

But the aging mare shook her head. “You know I can’t stay, Sparrow. I have to keep going west.”

“Why?” Sparrow asked. “I know you have to go see the elk and stuff, but you never told me why. What’s so important there that it can’t wait? What are we racing towards? Or are we running from something?” The unicorn stomped the ground in frustration, but at Typhoon’s frown, the indignant tone that had been creeping into Sparrow’s voice fled for cover. “I want to help. I really do. Even when you’re an empress I still want to squire for you… or whatever the imperial equivalent of that would be. Can’t you just be a little more open with me?”

Typhoon looked away, her ruby red eyes drifting to the stomped-down grasses underhoof. “Luna hexed me,” she finally said in a low voice. “Every night I’m plagued by nightmares because I dared to disagree with her. I dared to disagree with a vain mare who sees herself as a goddess and wants everypony to agree with her and approve everything she does. She did something I fundamentally didn’t agree with, and I sought to fix her mistake. Now, if I don’t sleep under my dreamcatcher, I don’t sleep for long at all. That was why I needed to see Deep Blue in Boiling Springs. I needed him to fix my dreamcatcher, and I needed him to point me in the direction of a solution.”

The old soldier let her wings droop, and underneath her cleaned appearance and done-up mane—or, perhaps, because of them—Sparrow was shocked to see just how weary and aged Typhoon looked. “She used powerful magic, old magic. Stronger than curses. There’s probably not a single unicorn mage alive who knows how to break a hex. I even doubt Celestia could. But the world of dreams and the subconscious is the elk domain. If anypony—anycreature—could break Luna’s magic, it would be them. That’s where I’m going. That’s why I have to keep moving.”

Sparrow wasn’t sure what she had expected to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that. She had never met the alicorn sisters—they had never deigned to venture out into the Frontier, especially not while war waged against the spiders—but she knew they were important and powerful, if not necessarily goddesses. “The mare who moves the moon hexed you?” Sparrow asked, incredulous. “What did you have to do to make her that mad?!”

Typhoon only shook her head. “It’s… personal. I don’t really want to talk about my old sins. It happened many years ago, but only when I stopped being a triumvir did Luna feel compelled to hex me.” There was a ghost of a bitter laugh as she added, “You would think a timeless being like her would learn to forgive and forget. Maybe for Celestia, I suppose, but not her. I guess the contrast between night and day is apt as ever.”

Though Typhoon’s refusal to answer disappointed her curiosity, Sparrow concluded that it was probably best to stay out of the old soldier’s business, especially if it concerned an angry moon demigod. “Alright, well… still. To get to the elk we gotta go west, right? And the free cities and the Mustang Clans are west, too. Don’t you think it might be a bit easier to get past them if you used Lost’s legion to deal with the problem? It, uh, might be nice to have an army protecting us, right?”

“The more I stick around, the more Cirra is likely to tie me down,” Typhoon remarked. “It’ll be harder to leave the longer I stay.” But Sparrow could see her working it over in her mind, and ultimately the old mare bobbed her head and turned back to her. “You’re probably right, though. The two of us wandering past the free cities aren’t going to get very far. Even if I flew myself, I don’t have the speed or endurance I used to. I suppose the good thing about being an empress is I’ll be able to negotiate safe passage, through force if necessary. And though Lost Winds has a long way to go, force was one thing Cirra used to excel at.”

“Yeah, and maybe we can get them to stop preying on Equestrians entirely!” Sparrow added. “That’s something that wouldn’t be possible without you! Something that makes it worth it!”

Typhoon rolled her eyes, but at least the corners of her muzzle moved up, not down. “You don’t need to try to oversell it, Sparrow. You’re right; there’s good that can come of this. I can do my best to make sure of that. But there’s going to be bad, too. The bad can’t outweigh the good.”

“It won’t,” Sparrow assured her, and she offered Typhoon an assuring smile. She didn’t know if there was any way to assure a hardened mare almost four times her senior that everything was going to work out, but she tried anyway.

Then there was commotion outside, and as the two mares turned their heads to the tent flap, Chinook’s appeared as he poked it inside. “Legate Singing Sparrow and the ponies of Dry Fens are here, Empress,” he said to Typhoon, and then he shifted focus to Sparrow. “The centurion said you’d be in here. Now that they’re here, he wants to start immediately.”

“Guess I gotta join the parade,” Sparrow said to Typhoon, receiving a simple nod in return. But before she turned back to gallop off, she instead muttered “Ah, fuck it,” and instead stepped forward and wrapped her forelegs around the old mare’s shoulders in a hug. Typhoon flinched at the sudden contact and Chinook started, shocked, but Sparrow didn’t care. She even made sure to brush cheeks with the mare like a granddaughter nuzzling her grandmother, and then she backed off. “Hope I didn’t mess up your mane,” she remarked, and a smirk crawled onto her muzzle. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve gotten it done up.”

Typhoon just scoffed and waved her off with her wing. “Just go, Sparrow. As soon as this stupid thing is over, I’m straightening the curls out of it by wearing my helmet to sleep.”

Sparrow just chuckled at that and departed with a wave, following Chinook out of the tent. Behind her, she heard a sigh escape Typhoon’s lips—though perhaps not one of frustration and anxiety, but a measured, calming rush of breath.

-----

In theory, parade march was an essential component for maneuvering troops in formation, and one of the first things taught to any batch of fresh recruits. But given the nature of the struggle with Dry Fens, it wasn’t exactly something Tern had spent much time drilling his recruits on. Sparrow felt that keenly as Tern and the other lesser centurions in Lost Winds’ legion struggled to shape up their centuries and get them to march as a unit. The battles over Dry Fens had been the actions of small squads or aerial thrashings over fields, and the legionaries had been taught how to fight in such first and foremost out of necessity. Even Sparrow knew it was a backwards way of trying to train a new army, and after today, she had the feeling a lot of focus was going to be placed on hammering down the basics that were skipped in favor of surviving a battle of attrition and siege.

As she plodded over the scythed grasses, struggling to match her steps with the ponies around her, Sparrow couldn’t help but feel like she was participating in a mockery, a farce. The gleaming armor that the new empress’ army was to wear was mixed and motley—nopony had been able to find her a helmet, and she wasn’t the only one wearing armor scraps in the ranks the legion had hastily assembled over time. That only added to the awkward shuffling of the soldiers as they tried to stay in formation, and centurions and some of the veteran legionaries snapped at the recruits and replacements as the centuries inevitably started to dissolve. But it didn’t seem to matter; she could still feel the air buzzing with excitement, and she had to admit, she could taste that high just like the pegasi around her.

That’s when it hit her: this parade and coronation wasn’t even for Typhoon. It was for the rank and file, the legionaries, the swords that would fight and die in her name. Even if it was ugly, the parade was the realization of the dream Lost Winds had sold them. Cirra was reborn, Typhoon was their empress, and it wouldn’t have been possible without them.

And up ahead, past the scattering of plumed helmets before her and the avenue of tents flanking her century on either side, Sparrow could see their destination, and the mare standing just beyond it. With Lost Winds at her right and Singing Sparrow at her left, Typhoon impassively gazed down from a hastily assembled wood and white blocks of compressed clouds in the closest approximation of imperial regalia the soldiers had been able to come up with. Though she still wore the makeshift armor Hammer had forged for her in Boiling Springs, the nearly pristine Cirran blue cloak draped over her left side and the curls and waves added to her autumnal mane lent her an appropriate substitute for imperial air. In that context, the scars that covered her face, particularly the ancient burn that ran over her right eye, complimented the look of a weathered veteran who had bested life’s challenges and was ready to claim what was rightfully hers.

It was an impressive look and an equally impressive notion, to be sure. Which was why Sparrow was sure that Typhoon hated it.

Still, the old mare kept her dissatisfaction hidden; if Sparrow hadn’t known better, she might not have even realized it, and the pegasi around her certainly didn’t. Though she tried to keep her head straight and eyes forward as she marched, she couldn’t help but glance around at the other soldiers around her. Lost Winds’ pegasi were all excited and proud to be there, but off to the side, Sparrow saw many of the bedraggled and weary defenders of Dry Fens looking on with a mixture of distrust and disgust. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. Those ponies had fought tooth and hoof to keep Lost Winds and his soldiers from conquering their town; many had died and everypony had suffered from food shortages and camp fever. Now, Lost’s legion paraded before their new empress like strutting peacocks, victorious and jubilant, while the defenders could only watch and wonder what the point of it all was.

Her century began to turn, and Sparrow accidentally bumped shoulders with Chinook on one side and another mare on the other as the mass of soldiers attempted to keep their ranks as they angled toward an open space before the soon to be crowned empress. Sparrow saw Typhoon’s eyes dart into the mass of soldiers, and the old mare’s cheek twitched as she held back a wince, but when her eyes found Sparrow’s mismatched pair, Sparrow thought she saw her relax slightly. The young unicorn tried to offer her the smallest smile of encouragement, but when Tern rounded on his century to make sure they were all in formation, she hid it away and went back to staring straight ahead with a straight back on straight legs like a model legionary.

Soon the entire force was assembled before Typhoon and Lost Winds, organized by century and cohort, and quickly straightened out by a few inching adjustments by the ranks and file. Though they were joined by a couple of the pegasus centuries of Singing Sparrow’s defending legion, the bulk of the force was comprised of the aggressor, and there was some segregation between the two sides that, one day, would need to be overcome if the two legions were to ever fight together under their empress. But for now, it mattered little, and once everypony was before him, Lost Winds stepped forward to address the gathered crowd.

“Soldiers of Cirra, today we celebrate,” Winds proclaimed, raising his soft voice just barely loud enough to be heard in the parade grounds over the dull rattling of a few thousand pieces of armor and the breeze running over the grassy fields. “The fighting ends today not through bloodshed, but through unity. Unity in the future of a new Cirra in the Frontier. Unity in the belief that the ponies who live so far away from Everfree need not live in fear while their unicorn queen squabbles with her own nobility. Unity in the knowledge that Typhoon Stormblade, protector of all of Equestria and wrongfully displaced by Equestria, has traveled west to continue her work. But not as Triumvir, and not as Commander, but as Empress.”

He looked aside at Typhoon, whose jaw had firmly set as she listened to the speech, and continued. “Typhoon Stormblade, we served you faithfully as soldiers of the Equestrian legion. But Equestria will not have any of us, any more. Now, we wish to serve you, not as Equestrians, but as Cirrans. Your father, Hurricane Stormblade, was the last Emperor of Cirra. That inheritance now passes to you. Cirra cannot live without an emperor to lead us. Will you take the crown?”

Even after their earlier conversation, the way Typhoon looked at the laurel sitting on a plain pillow in front of her made Sparrow worry for a moment that she was still going to say no and fly away. But there was no way around it—it was the peace Typhoon had brokered, and to fly away now would mean a massacre in the parade grounds, right then and there—so she nodded and reached out with her wings. The tips of her feathers gingerly picked up the laurel wreath from either side, and she lifted it to eye level. She stared at it for the longest time, and Sparrow could only wonder what thoughts were blurring through her mind, but with a flare of her nostrils and a sharp breath out, Typhoon lifted the wreath and settled it behind her ears.

There was no turning back now. Thousands of cheering voices from Lost Winds’ legion, and even from some of the defenders of Dry Fens, were the first thing to greet Empress Typhoon Stormblade, the first emperor of Cirra in sixty years, and the twenty-fifth pegasus to hold that title. And judging by the mare’s stiff and uncomfortable stance, Sparrow knew that she didn’t want there to be a twenty-sixth.

It seemed like the cheers went on for an hour, but when they finally died down, Lost Winds retook command over the parade grounds. “A new empress deserves a new oath. Many of us veterans swore allegiance to the Legion and Commander Typhoon in the days of Equestria. Many of us here have never pledged our swords to her. Repeat after me, in one voice.”

Everypony gathered stiffened into discipline, and a reverent hush fell over the soldiers. Even Sparrow felt it, a feeling like she was about to witness something divine. And as the first drops of rain began to fall from the storm hovering overhead, the assembled soldiers swore an oath that had not been used in decades.

“To you, Empress, I pledge my sword and my life.

In health and in ruin, they shall always be yours.

I swear now on my honor and my soul,

That I will be willing to endure anything and give everything in service to the Empire.

If I am to lose a wing, then so be it;

It is much better to sacrifice the skies for my country than to fly against it with two.

If I am to lose a leg, then so be it;

It is much better to be crippled for my country than to stand against it with perfect health.

If I am to lose my life, then so be it;

It is much better to die for the glory of the Empire than to live as a coward.

Before the Legion there was nothing,

And after the Legion there will be nothing.”

Comments

[RoboRed]

A storm is brewing on the horizon. Literally and figuratively...

The mare who moves the moon hexed you?” Sparrow asked, incredulous. “What did you have to do to make her that mad?!”

Typhoon only shook her head. “It’s… personal. I don’t really want to talk about my old sins. It happened many years ago, but only when I stopped being a triumvir did Luna feel compelled to hex me.”

Well it was kinda easy to piece together already that Luna hexed her, but so much for finding out exactly why just yet.

“Guess I gotta join the parade,” Sparrow said to Typhoon, receiving a simple nod in return. But before she turned back to gallop off, she instead muttered “Ah, fuck it,” and instead stepped forward and wrapped her forelegs around the old mare’s shoulders in a hug. Typhoon flinched at the sudden contact and Chinook started, shocked, but Sparrow didn’t care. She even made sure to brush cheeks with the mare like a granddaughter nuzzling her grandmother, and then she backed off. “Hope I didn’t mess up your mane,” she remarked, and a smirk crawled onto her muzzle. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve gotten it done up.”

Sparrow just chuckled at that and departed with a wave, following Chinook out of the tent. Behind her, she heard a sigh escape Typhoon’s lips—though perhaps not one of frustration and anxiety, but a measured, calming rush of breath.

For as kinda standoffish as Typhoon's been regarding Sparrow, I think deep down she really appreciated that bit of contact.

[CopperTop]

And so a New Cirra is born, and the arrow of destiny is loosed.

Now we shall see if Typhoon can put her empire on a benevolent path to help secure the future of the Equestria we know in the present...

...Or will we instead learn that Equestria will come to thrive in spite of Typhoon's best efforts?

It's possible that Lost Winds will not be satisfied with Ty's "midling" ambitions for her new empire; and few things are more dangerous for a nation than a military leader who thinks they can do the job of running it better than its current ruler...

Love this story!