Prologue
Twinkling like the armour of sky bound warriors, the stars illuminated the heavens. Surrounded by these glittering guardians, Rook could hardly take his eyes off the moon as it coated him in silvery moonlight. With only the whisper of wind through the trees to keep him company, Rook wondered if what Flare had said was true. Could it be that it really was the Eye of the Goddess, watching and judging all that happened beneath her gaze?
Standing in the remains of the earthkin town, a town annihilated upon his orders, Rook thought of a higher power and shuddered. If only the messenger had come a day sooner, it would have given him a reason to call off the siege and pull back his forces.
Seeing the embers smoldering amongst the rubble now, the reddish glow they cast was only a reminder of the new blood staining his already soiled hooves— blood that hadn't needed to be spilled.
Pulling his cloak tighter in an attempt to ward off the cool night air, Rook turned away from the ruins and back towards the camp. The armour he wore grated as Rook, making his way to the mess hall for a cup of mead, walked through the camp. Perhaps tonight the drink would keep him from waking in a cold sweat.
Reaching the entrance to the mess hall, Rook noticed too late that someone was waiting in the shadows. With hardly a sound, they rushed forward, tackling him into the tent of exuberant soldiers. Too disoriented to put a barrier up, he attempted to regain his footing before the assailant held him down by the mane. Unable to lift his head from the dirt, he prepared to try blasting the attacker with magic.
"Got your back, Rook," a familiar voice joked.
Tapping on the ground, Rook snorted the dust from his nose as Flare let go of his mane. Taking a moment to compose himself, he shot the brown unicorn an angry glare.
"You were lucky," Rook remarked, receiving a cocksure smirk in response. Shaking his head, Rook noticed chuckles circulate among Flare's new squadmates, the Dragoons.
'Blood and steel, to cleanse with fire,' was the insignia etched on each of their chest plates, a grim reminder of what they were. Usually a unicorn's abilities were limited to psychokinesis and the ability to weave tangible spells, but there was the rare case where they also had the natural talent to create and control flames. Originally they were treated as pariahs, and hazards, but as the war was drawn out, King Sombra's military advisor had given them a new purpose as a specialized siege force.
In the case of Flare, he'd been one of the soldiers in Rook's squad before his power surfaced. Flare had been a brash and cocksure recruit under Rook's command, but he was still one of his favorite shield mates. Although, he did need to be put in his place, from time to time.
Seeing one of the Dragoons give Flare a congratulatory thump on the shoulder, it dawned on him that the attack may have been orchestrated. Noticing some silver exchange hooves only proved his assumptions right.
Getting to his hooves, Rook watched Flare snatch a mug off the table and waited for him to take a drink. Muttering a spell under his breath, Rook felt some satisfaction when Flare's muzzle shut tight, and the mead poured over his face.
Sputtering through the magical clamps, Flare dropped the mug as Rook walked over and placed a hoof on his shoulder. "We need to talk," Rook whispered before levitating a mug of mead off the table. Giving Flare a pat on the shoulder, he walked back out the tent flaps as he sampled the honey flavoured liqueur. Hearing the sound of scrabbling hoofsteps behind him, Rook took a seat beside some empty crates before Flare joined him.
"Want to try that greeting again?" Rook asked as he nursed his drink. Answering with a muffled grunt, Flare rolled his eyes before pointing at his clenched muzzle. With a flare of his horn, Rook disengaged the lockjaw seal, chuckling as Flare muttered his thanks and rubbed his sore muzzle. "You'll be able to feel them again in an hour. Usually I don't mind a little roughhousing, but I thought you had learned better than getting involved in squad rivalries. It's trouble enough that some of the other soldiers are still wary of the Dragoons, taking into account the nature of your involvement in this campaign."
"You're just sore because I got the upper hoof on ya," Flare retorted with a toothy grin, his words slurring from the spell's aftereffects. He polished the insignia on his front with his foreleg before adding, "And the thirty pieces of silver for getting one over on my previous captain sweetened the deal."
Nodding his head in agreement, Rook took a swig from the mug before cuffing Flare lightly on the shoulder. "I'll be happier when you learn to show some proper respect for your senior officers," Rook replied. "As it is, this may be my last campaign, and Glimmer wouldn't let you off so easily if you sent her back 'damaged goods.'"
Imagining his mate dealing with Flare again, Rook gave him a wry grin. The first time Flare had dragged Rook home injured, after dislocating his shoulder during their sparring match, the mare had put the fear of the Goddess in the recruit. Seeing Flare now, nervously fidgeting with his mug, Rook guessed he'd remembered the encounter as well.
"No need to be worried about another scolding from my mate," Rook said with a chuckle. "Glimmer has put me in my place plenty of times as well, but it only shows that she cares." Taking another swig of his drink, Rook leaned against the crate with a sigh.
"... So, 'Captain' Rook. Did you only call me out here to talk about the old days like a couple of nags, or was there a reas-"
"A messenger from the capital arrived around midday with new orders," Rook placed his empty mug on the crate, interrupting Rook. "We are to halt our advance on all fronts while King Sombra meets with the leaders of the earthkin and pegasi."
Letting it sink in, Rook watched Flare's eyes widen as he sorted out the meaning behind the words, and for good reason. The rumours of peace had been circulating in the recent years, a fleeting promise of the three tribe leaders putting an end to the age old war. With the known world torn asunder and shaped by clashes between the pegasi, earthkin, and unicorns, even a temporary peace was something of a victory.
"When do you expect the order to return to Sigilhall will arrive?" Flare whispered as some drunken soldiers stumbled out of the tent. For a fleeting moment, they paused in their revelry to give Rook and Flare a wave before stumbling towards the tents.
Glancing at the starry night sky, Rook's eyes once again wandered to the moon as he gave it some thought. "Seeing how far into the earthkin territory we've marched, it could take until the next quarter moon. Earlier still, if another messenger is already on their way with the orders to return." Sighing, Rook looked back at Flare, "At least I hope so, for I grow tired of killing and conquering. To be honest with you, Flare, I'd hoped a truce would've been already in place before we'd even left home. I would've stayed in Sigilhall, and retired from this disgusting business, if that pesky Silver Tongue hadn't — "
"Commander Silver Tongue," Flare added, absentmindedly, as he drank sparingly from his mug.
A little dumbfounded by the comment, Rook gave Flare a quizzical look, "... Excuse me?"
Taking a moment to notice, Flare cleared his throat while putting his mug down, "My apologies, Rook. I didn't mean to interrupt you, but like you'd said, 'show proper respect for your senior officers'. She is the military advisor to the king, after all."
"That's right... My apologies, Flare. It's getting late, and this drink addles my thoughts and warps my words. I'd best take my leave, while I still have some of my pride," Rook said with a chuckle, before getting to his hooves and aiming for his tent.
"Don't worry about it, Rook. Just means I'll get to take the rest of it during morning drills tomorrow," Flare said before giving a casual salute. "'Till then, captain."
Shaking his head with a quiet, "Rambunctious colt," Rook navigated the maze of tents in the direction of his officer's tent, using his horn to light the way. Arriving just as his hooves started to drag from exhaustion, Rook slowly unlatched his armour and levitated it to its stand, before collapsing atop his cot. Closing his eyes, he slipped into a restless sleep and began to dream.
Just as Rook remembered her, his mate Glimmer walked beside him. It was in the same park he'd met her that they now walked, neither saying a word as they leaned against each other. Breathing in her scent, Rook smiled as she affectionately nuzzled his neck. The message about the treaty signing had arrived quicker than he'd thought, and he'd gotten home faster than any pegasus could fly. Now that he was with her, a stray thought passed through Rook's mind.
Why had he decided to leave in the first place?
As they walked deeper into the park, the surroundings darkened as they approached a forked path. Seeing a pillar of smoke on the left path, Rook tried to take the right but found he couldn't as Glimmer prodded him towards the left path.
"Let's go this way," Glimmer said with a smile, " The garden is beautiful this time of year."
Trying to ask why, no words left his lips as the other path vanished. Trying to turn back, he no longer held any control over his body as they neared a burning town. Recognizing it as the earthkin town, he redoubled his effort to turn away from the scene as they walked towards a funeral pyre of corpses.
"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked him as he was forced to nod in agreement. Beside him, Glimmer's mane burst into flames and horrid burns appeared on her coat as she walked into the pyre. Glimmer smiled at him as she burned, while a multitude of voices called from the pyre, each begging for salvation and asking him why they had to die. Seeing scarred and bony hooves reach from the pile of corpses, Rook silently screamed as they dragged him towards the fire.
Feeling his coat start to burn, Rook heard a chilling voice say, "Your sacrifice is necessary," before he was dragged into the pyre with a silent scream.
Waking in a cold sweat, Rook gasped as the memory, and the smell of the smoke, lingered in his thoughts. Taking even breaths to calm his nerves, the images slowly faded, whilst the smell of smoke and voices calling for help grew stronger.
"We're under attack!" A voice shouted from nearby, before an explosion knocked Rook off his cot and through the tent wall.
Ears ringing, Rook tried to get his bearings as another stallion rushed towards him. All around him, the camp was a sea of flames as an occasional flare up signalled another explosion. Yelling at him, the stallion helped Rook to his hooves while dragging him behind the cover of the remaining tents.
Looking at the soldier, Rook caught the end of his message as the ringing lessened. "... They've betrayed us, Captain!"
"Who has?" Rook asked, before a round object was lobbed over the tent and landed between them. Seeing the flaming wick, Rook's eyes went wide. "Goddess protect us..."