The Ash

by Raging Mouse

On the Eve of War

Chapter 31:

On the Eve of War

“Shining Armor... my beloved husband. Our defenses are... we don’t have any. They attacked too quickly.”

A dull boom echoed.

“Even now they are beating on the lower gates. We’ve sealed the windows, and I tried letting crystal grow over the doors, but when I did that I felt such pain that I had to stop. They must have brought their ash with—”

There was a massive crash, followed by shouts, screams and the ring of metal against metal. Cadence’s panicked face became a blur as she moved the crystal she was speaking into. Then there was a discontinuity as the image and sound jumped. Another face now stared out from the image.

“This is commander Bulwark of the Ashen. The Crystal Empire is now a protectorate of our queen, Diamond Dust the Ash Prophet. The crystalline have seen sense and even as we speak they bolster our ranks. The former princess, Cadenza, is our guest for the time being. I trust you’ll receive us – and her – with open gates once we arrive at Canterlot. Oh, and don’t try anything stupid. You’ve already lost, you just might not realise it yet. If you need convincing then look at the sky.”

The projection winked out and the crystal that had projected it stopped glowing, leaving the nightly throne room dark except for what light fell from the blue-black aurora in the sky outside. The world below was darkness, hidden behind clouds that were pitch black at night.

“Canterlot stands alone.”

Shining Armor stood in front of the Throne of Night and Day. His voice was as broken as his exterior. He didn’t have the willpower to lift his head and face his regents. Celestia and Luna sat on either side of the throne. Luna’s face was hard, set in an angry, fearful frown. Celestia had tilted her head slightly and was watching Shining Armor with pity.

“Our deepest thanks and most heartfelt regrets, Captain. Your adherence to duty in these personally trying times does you great honour. You will now retreat to your quarters to rest. That is an order. Guards, see to your officer.”

Celestia glanced at her sister as Shining Armor was led away.

“We’ll need him as rested as possible for what is to come.”

Luna nodded. “Dear sister, perhaps it is time to sound the call to arms?”

“You speak wisely. Nobles, step forward.”

Court during night was usually a lonesome affair, but the room now was thronged. The Canterlot elite was present, as well as prominent families from several other cities thanks to the evacuation. The clear space reserved for supplicants was quickly filled by representants of old families and wielders of power.

“Your families’ titles are heralds from ages past, honorifics and rewards bestowed upon them for services rendered to throne and country. Some, during peace... but most during conflict. All have one common virtue: when Equestria called, your ancestors answered. My brave ponies, war is coming again. The enemy marches, ash and darkness her callsign. So I ask you: will you carry on the names and deeds of your foremothers? Will you pick up lance and barding and gallop to our defense?”

Silence fell. Nopony spoke. No gaze met Celestia’s increasingly desolate stare. Luna closed her eyes slowly and pouted. Then:

“I’ll do it.”

The crowd in front of the throne looked around. Little by little their heads turned towards the back of a hall and they shuffled sideways, forming a path between the throne and Applejack.

“I’m as noble as dirt. I’m as common as they come, princess. But Ma and Pa didn’t raise quitters. My legs are growing restless without solid bark beneath my hooves. Point me at ‘em and tell me when to buck.”

If one looked carefully and tilted one's head just right, the deep shadows on Princess Celestia’s face might have given the impression that there was the beginning of a smile there.

“Hey!”

The shout came from high above, just under the ceiling of the hall. Rainbow Dash descended until she hovered above the massed nobles.

“No hard feelings, princess, but I’m sick and tired of buzzing around your chandeliers like some bird in a cage. I want the ash outta my skies, like, ten seconds ago, and if I need to punch somepony in the face to get that then lemme at ‘em!”

The princesses smiled warmly at the two Element Bearers.

“Excuse me, dear... Lovely scarf, dear... Did I tread on your slippers? Dreadfully sorry!”

Rarity pushed through the throng of ponies as genteelly as she could manage and fixed the princesses with a thousand-watt grin.

“Your majesties, those simply fantastic ancient traditions of bestowing nobility upon brave and valiant ponies... They surely haven’t been abolished since?”

Celestia raised a hoof to her mouth and coughed gently while her sister answered, eyes gleaming.

“It was with some pleasure that We – I – found them still in effect after our return, Lady Rarity.”

Rarity managed to chomp down on the squee and swallow it.

“Well, ah, I shall certainly not be found wanting when the call sounds! Noblesse oblige, after all!”

Celestia smiled like a winning gambler and bowed to her.

“Spoken with wisdom.”

She raised her head and addressed the hall again, her voice stern and challenging.

“Generosity, Loyalty and Honesty stand before you. A more fitting description of bravery is hard to find. They have answered the call! Will ponies read in future books of history of how you kept silent, or will your defiant yells join theirs?”

The windows shook and the crystals in the chandeliers vibrated from the clamour of voices.

~~~~~

“What is your wish?”

“Night Whisper, I believe congratulations are in order.”

Whisper raised an eyebrow at Diamond Dust’s image.

“The poison you researched worked perfectly. The windigo is contained and travelling with me. You may find this hard to believe, but she’s actually Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic. How does that line sound on your merit list?”

“Hard to believe, your highness.”

“Well believe it. Or have you ever heard of the Grand Star of Harmony ever manifesting on more than one pony at the same time?”

Night Whisper smiled. Her dreamt-of status as legend among assassins seemed attainable after all.

“Since you’ve performed so well I believe a reward for your faithfulness is in order.”

The unicorn leaned forward.

“The monster. No doubt some pet of the Element. It’s not in any book I’ve found. I believe it might even be so exotic as to be one-of-a-kind. Doesn’t that sound like an exciting kill?”

~~~~~

“This is a... ball. The... ball is red. This pony is...”

Welder frowned at the book in his hands. What was the pony? Early? Windy? The words seemed correct, but he couldn’t figure out how they applied.

“This pony...”

He did a double-take. That wasn’t the word for indicating the state of something, but a very similar one. He cross-referenced his notes: large text scribbled with a sharp bit of coal onto the wooden floor. There were scuffs from his feet all over the letters, but all in all the text was still readable. Soon understanding came to him. The word indicated that what followed was the pony’s name. He added a note and returned to the book.

“Aha! This pony’s name is... Uhhh... Morning Fart?”

He slapped his forehead.

“Morning Breeze!”

He did a little victory dance and dove down to his stack of tins. Twilight had explained that he should savour the meats from his old world while he still could. Unless he built a smokehouse and became a hunter, non-poisonous meat would be rare indeed when his body was further adapted to Equestria. So he opened a tin of meatballs in tomato sauce with reverence and placed it carefully right next to the fire burning in the fireplace. Then he picked up the book again.

“Morning Breeze... has... the red ball. The ball is... No, wait! The ball belongs to Morning Breeze!”

Seldom had advances in basic reading comprehension been celebrated with such evil laughter. He ran his finger gleefully along the next line, eagerly deciphering the further adventures of Morning Breeze and her red ball, when he heard the front door slam. He lowered the book and turned to look at the dark vestibule.

“Twilight?”

A moment’s wait brought no answer. He furrowed his brow, walked over to the table and put down the colorful book he had been reading in between the stacks of already-conquered children’s – foals’ – literature and the yet-to-be-attempted literary masterpieces (one of which inevitably would be about a pony called Spot who liked to run; he could feel it coming like death and taxes).

When he turned around he saw something, a faint smear of blurry colour that moved against one of the whitewashed walls. He peered closer and realised it seemed to be the translucent image of a pony. It was moving towards the fireplace.

“Who are you? Oh wait... Who you?”

The ghostly pony glanced at his direction, did a double-take and leaped backwards before freezing. It was very clearly surprised at being seen. Welder raised a hand cautiously in greeting while grabbing a book at random from the piles behind him.

“Uh... Hello... No cry? Dammit, I don’t think I know the right words! Uhhh... No cry hurt leg? Lost nappy?”

The apparition blinked twice. Then it dove towards the fireplace. The flames went out, and the cottage interior was plunged in darkness.

“Whoa! What did you do that for, ghost pony?”

Welder felt around blindly along the table. He’d begged Twilight to fetch him some luxury items from his world. He’d just figured their presence would be comforting for as long as they lasted. Besides, some of them could probably be reproduced locally once Twilight had had the chance to look at them. After a couple seconds’ breathless panic his fingers brushed a surface of rough aluminum. He closed his hand over the sturdy flashlight and quickly found the on-switch. The batteries still worked, and a cone of bright light shone out and into Welder’s face since he’d stupidly aimed it at himself. He quickly turned it away and blinked until the spots disappeared.

A metallic chink made him turn just before something heavy impacted him. Pain bloomed in his right thigh, and he wailed as he fell. The flashlight tumbled away from him and spun to a halt shining against a wall, reflecting just enough light to outline the room. He’d pressed his hand instinctively against his thigh and could feel something liquid spreading on the palm. He brought his hand to his face in a daze and saw how it was slick with his blood. He yelled then, out of pure fear.

Suddenly there was another light. A horn was glowing on the other side of the room, wrapped in a blue-black aura. Three similar but smaller auras appeared and rose into the air. Welder stared wide-eyed at them as they wove around one another, diving and dipping like a group of birds. They emitted only a weak light, and the things they enveloped were dull and black, but he realised with increasing terror that there was no mistaking those shapes: blades, like daggers without handles, were floating towards him with clear menace.

Survival instinct overruled the pain from his thigh and he pushed himself back, away from the hovering metal spikes. It mattered little. Each aura flashed in turn, launching the blades towards him fast enough to make them whistle. He felt them impact and penetrate deep into his left thigh and both shoulders.

Now each limb was an unresponsive mess of pain, and he cried weakly as he slumped on the floor with his back leaning against the table. Whimpering from terror, he lifted his head and saw his attacker appear from thin air in front of him, as if melting into view. It was a unicorn mare, with green-brown mane and coat, clad in stiletto-bladed slippers (one of which was coated with his blood) and locking his gaze with the iciest stare he had ever seen, enhanced further by her blue eyes.

She advanced ever so slowly, clearly exulting over her work. She smiled a very satisfied smile as she placed a hoof on his injured thigh and carefully transferred her weight to it, making Welder tremble in agony and clench his teeth. His vision receded, and so did the pain.

~~~~~

Night Whisper frowned. The monster was becoming limp and its head was lolling against the table. She must have hit a major artery in one of its limbs. Not much time to do what had become a tradition for her: whenever she personally assassinated somepony she made sure to look into their eyes as they passed away. It was her little window to infinity. She’d be very cross with herself if she missed the chance to see it with this unique creature.

No worry, though. She lit her horn and reached out with her magic to the creature’s head—

The pain was indescribable. It was like her revelation rite, but a thousandfold worse. It was as if the creature was made entirely from the ashen matter! Dimly, in the back of her head, some small part of her shouted about the danger of aura feedback. She’d die if she couldn’t let go of the creature’s head. Watching it die no longer mattered: she was fighting for her own life. So she did what she could to push away the pain and tried to focus.

She’d underestimated the force she’d used, but she managed both to shove the creature away from her and to throw herself backwards, cutting the link. The creature flew under the table and crumpled into a heap. Thumps from falling books were heard. Then all was silent. Night Whisper inhaled and exhaled slowly, marvelling at her fortune.

First, the creature had spotted her when she’d have been invisible to anypony else. Then there was this. She’d been very, very lucky she didn’t try to simply choke the life out of the thing with her telekinesis. She’d toyed with the thought for such a long time, and only a whim had made her choose to bleed it to death instead: she’d wanted to feel it twitch through her hooves instead of her more impersonal magic.

All in all, much too close for comfort. Her frazzled brain was shutting down, and she was physically exhausted enough to welcome unconsciousness.

The sound of a falling book made her eyes slam open.

She slowly turned her head to look at the room. The monster was moving. She gasped incredulously and fought to return control of her legs, slowly scrabbling away from the thing. She watched with disbelief as the creature crawled clumsily out from under the table on all four limbs, apparently ignoring the wounds. Once clear of the table it stopped and its head turned very slowly towards one of its forelimbs, lifting it and wiggling the five small appendages in a disgusting manner, as if it was unfamiliar with its own body. Three metallic thuds sounded as Night Whisper’s throwing blades were pushed out of the wounds they’d created. Then the monster ever so slowly tilted its head back to look at Night Whisper.

Its eyes were gone. In their place shone orbs of pure gold.

The monster brought its back limbs under its torso and it rose ever so slowly, not for a second releasing Night Whisper from its gaze. It opened its mouth, and hesitated, running its tongue over its teeth as if feeling their shape. Then it tilted its head and spoke, voice somehow horribly twisted from what it was, apparently forming syllables with an unfamiliar throat.

“Well this is an interesting development.”

That was enough to snap Night Whisper back to her senses. Fury and terror raced down the nerve pathways of her body, forcing her limbs into obedience. She sprang to her legs and snarled at the monster before invoking her invisibility. Then she ran as silently as she could to the creature’s side. It was slowly moving its head from side to side, head tilted with astonishment, mouth slightly open. She tensed, shoved with her hind legs and got enough speed to leap— The creature’s eyes locked onto her and a winning smirk appeared below them.

The table slammed into her face.

She came to lying on her back, limbs splayed like the cardinal directions on a compass. She tried to move, but something held her head and legs in place. She couldn’t even open her mouth. Her eyes swivelled desperately and saw gold-black auras wrapped around her hooves. Five glowing, fleshy hooks above her glowed with the same magic. She studied them some more and realised she was looking at the five bent digits of the monster’s right forelimb. It was standing right in front of her, glowing limb stretched in front of it as if she was a marionette and it was holding the strings.

“Sorry, my little pony, but invisibility works poorly against one who can see into the spirit world. Now...”

The monster crouched and pulled its hand back and up. Night Whisper felt herself sit up into an unnatural position, hanging by her limbs from the monster’s telekinesis. Her head rose until she was forced to stare directly into the monster’s golden eyes.

“...I’m afraid you’ve done a number on this body, and I must say I’d rather like to give it a chance. See what it can do, so to speak. So I’m just going to borrow a little something of yours to heal it with. Sound good?”

Night Whisper felt herself nodding in sync with the creature’s middle digit.

“I think so too! You break it, you mend it is such a good policy. It would be a shame to let this frame go to waste after all the hard work Twilight Sparkle did on it, wouldn’t it? Caught between this world and another, not really capable of living but stubbornly refusing to die, it is ridiculously magical yet incapable of casting... but I have special provisions for that.”

The monster drew a deep breath through its nostrils.

“To put it simply, this body is a necromancer’s fondest dream come true. And I have certainly had time to dream! Now be a good little assassin and tell me all you know. The more you make me listen the longer you’ll be in possession of a soul.”

The last thing Night Whisper ever saw while alive was two shining orbs of gold. Libram didn’t watch what happened afterwards, because he was quite accustomed to the events. Instead he rose, stretching this unfamiliar body’s muscles, and rummaged around the cottage until he found a gem. With a grin he held it out in his hand, with his arm stretched out, and turned slowly until he found the direction where it glowed the brightest. Meanwhile Night Whisper’s body rose slowly and trotted to his side, vacant eyes staring at him. He lifted his gaze from his new servant and looked straight through the walls of the cottage, in the direction of the gem’s light, towards Canterlot. Then he squeezed the gem and brought it close to his smiling mouth.

“Twilight? We should talk.”

Comments

[Raging Mouse]

I'm worried about the [gore] tag. Should I apply it? There's not that much in the story as a whole, but things are definitely heating up towards the end and unless I want to portray one of the most unfought wars in literature I will have to include something.

[Minitheif]

1884651 I don't think it needs the gore tag, or at least not yet. Lightly describing injuries and a few scenes with blood isn't enough for the gore tag. I see that tag as being there to prevent people from accidentally reading stories with excessive description towards that sort of thing, and nothing here qualifies.

[Gypsy]

hurry the fuck up with the next chapter oh my gawd!!!!

[Dr_D]

wait i am confused. did the libram posess welder during night whisper's ass getting kicked, then transfer over to night whisper's body after?

[Raging Mouse]

1884964

Nope. Libram possessed Welder when his dying body was hurled at Libram's book hidden beneath the table. He's a lich so he's habitually creating undead servants, as Night Whisper has found out.

1884727

Thank you. I haven't found any instructions for the correct application of that tag so I was unsure.

[Anubis Nox]

The chapter titles look like they are trying to say something. In the order they are in.

[Amneiger]

When I started reading this I was kind of expecting a semi-standard HiE story, with added logistical goodness. I hadn't expected things to get this, well, deep, if you know what I mean. Have a favorite.

[Beyond the Horizon]

1885027

Well this is going to be an interesting pair up then, isn't it?

I do hope that Libram will return control after this is over though. . .

Unless you have a few more mind screws in place after this.