Shining Armor
Shining
These gods weren’t faking when they came down from the mountains.
Screaming, stallions under my command dying and screaming in the snow. Mares under my command. Ponies dead in the snow. It only lasted ten minutes.
The shield is up, but it’s not big enough. My magic is drained, a week in the snow has left me weary. My legs shake and complain beneath me, even as I struggle to keep my shield up. The Mitou outside beat against it with their fits and rake their claws along it. The magic is solid, like glass, and I can hear those claws grate along the outside like as if against a blackboard and I groan but I cannot cover my ears. If I cover my ears and cover my eyes they will die. We will all die, crushed and gone and forgotten. Cold in the snow forever, buried in the white.
But I can hold. I have always held. It’s what I do.
The fists beat upon the shield. The roaring will not stop; it goes on forever. The red eyes of two dozen Mitou stare into my own but I cannot flinch. I cannot cower though my legs want to give. I cannot cower or I will die. The mountain gods on two feet will not make Shining Armor bow.
So few remain. I brought one hundred ponies with me, most of them from the Empire. Crystal ponies. Unused, they, to the rigors of march and war but filled with heart.
One of them is crying; he’s a stallion, somewhere behind me. I cannot look at him. I don’t reprimand him. It is a perfectly acceptable response.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
My hooves are cold. My flanks are cold. The cold seeps in past the armor like a knife in the dark and stabs at my coat.
Oh Cadance, what will become of me?
Those fists are huge, covered in white fur. I watch them rise and fall against the barrier like that little toy Twilight has on her desk in Canterlot. Little balls, and you hit one and the one on the other end moves. Momentum.
Back and forth and back and forth.
They stand on two legs, but run on two. They speak, but we do not understand. They speak Equestrian and it is terrifying. Truly, they claimed to be gods and we all but believed them, for we cowered. Something in us in our hearts cowered and cowers still. I fear.
I open my mouth and pant, taking in some deep breaths before closing my mouth again. There is a regimen to maintaining a shield of this sort. A list.
1. Control your breathing
2. Your breathing will keep you calm
3. Your calm will keep your magic steady
4. It will keep you from moving
5. You should be still
6. Control your eyes
7. If they do not wonder you will not lose track of your breathing
8. Your will is fragile
9. Don’t be afraid
A mantra, maybe? I don’t know. The crying stallion has stopped, and I hear somepony talking to him. They’re shivering behind me. Fourteen of us, fourteen under the dome.
Statistics:
I started with one hundred ponies including myself.
I have lost eighty-six ponies.
My command has suffered exactly eighty-six percent casualty rates. Anypony unfit to fight is already dead, so it works out exactly.
A list as I stare right into the eye of a Mitou with only one of them, and know that I put out the other with a spear:
Marshy Shoals, pegasus, Scout, dead. Shot down.
Amethyst Eyes, crystal pony, Infantrypony Second Class, dead. Crushed.
Bright Eyes, unicorn, Medic, dead. Crushed.
Starry Night, unicorn, Support Spellcaster, dead. Beheaded.
Diamond Sky, crystal pony, Infantrypony Second Class, dead. Shredded.
Akero Apple, earth pony, InfantryPony First Class, dead. Friendly Fire.
The snow goes on forever. I look away from the eyes towards the tundra that stretches out in all directions. Of course I know it is not forever. Somewhere there are trees and cobblestone streets. Somewhere there is Canterlot and the valley, oh the valley, and somewhere there is the Empire. Somewhere there is Cadance.
Cadance, sweet Cadance, with her dark eyes. Purple, they remind me of quiet walks and long halls with the sun streaming in. Multi-hued mane that flows with grace, wings that end in purplish tips like they were dipped in the sun and burnt but I love them. Long legs, wonderful smile.
The Empire is that way, the border station five miles distant. It doesn’t take long outside the lines to find the Mitou, the stalking gods. Their guns are used up. More like cannons, ugly, huge things that get maybe two shots before they jam or break. Powerful, though. It’ll blow a pegasus away, already has today. Will again.
Oh Cadance, sweetest Cadance where will you go when the shield breaks? What will you say? Will you find me buried in the snow?
Once when it snowed, Cadance, Twilight and played in the streets of Canterlot. The old city’s streets are wide and clean, and the snow was pure and white and we were young. I remember how we ran and threw snowballs and I loved it. Snow was my favorite. Twilight caught cold but I was happy, and our mother let me bring her hot chocolate. And then I went back out and saw Her.
I breathe in, I breathe out, I sigh. I watch them circle as best I can. The ponies behind me say things.
“Your Majesty?”
“General out here. What?”
My words are curt; I waste only what breath I must.
“General, what’s going to happen?”
The voice... that will be Marble... something. The fact that her family name does not come to me angers me. Crystal pony, young, mare, Infantrypony Third Class, alive.
At the moment, nothing. “We’re going to get back home, eventually. For now, we hold out.”
Options. The constant assault is no longer constant. Not surprising. In war nothing is constant. Now they circle us, and I cannot see any of them. They know now I will not look. They will stay out of my sight. I cannot hear them.
So, options and contingencies. They will renew their attack, which will take a long time. They will leave, which is unlikely. They will try to cover us up, likely. It makes sense: cold is the worst weakness here, and they can handle it where we cannot. Heat outside the shield will eventually work it’s way in, and cold will eventually worm in as well. Pile snow on us and we will all freeze until I lose my hold and it will be over. So, in the end, this is likely.
I hear my old drill sergeant: Variables in the equation, Armor?
Friendly Patrols, likely but delayed. An attempt to locate us in the next few hours, doubtful. I’m not due back at the border for at least two more hours. They won’t search for another one after that at the very least.
So... five hours. That is my estimate.
The ponies behind me are murmuring. Military order breaking down, but this is hardly the time or place to mention it.
I bite my lip.
“Captain?”
“What?”
“They’re... piling up snow. Around the barrier.”
“I know.”
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Okay...I've read and...
Oh my god.
Oh...My...God...
This is beautifully written.
The lack of edits is apparent, but not over distracting.
You... You should; nay, need, to continue this...
Space.
"fists"
I'm going to assume you mean four.
Well shit. Did one of AJ's relatives just get killed off by a crystal pony? Friendly fire is the worst.
"and I played"
Sees what you did there and appreciates it immensely.
Comma after so.
ಠ_ಠ
This feels similar to that other dark one you put out. This is a good thing.
This was interesting. But may I ask what in God's Good Name is a "Mitou?" I tried wikipedia and google and nothing turned up.
Innnnteresting.
Doesn't really sound like Shining's voice to me, but then I suppose we've never seen him in a real, army- or even squad-scale battle, and maybe his manner of speaking is different depending on the circumstances.