> A Song of Storms: Snow and Shadows > by The 24th Pegasus > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: Frozen Caverns > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A Song of Storms: Snow and Shadows The 24th Pegasus Prologue: Frozen Caverns There was no movement within the black halls. Stone crested stone, only to stop in reverence towards what lay within. Stagnant air filled the structure, having not moved for centuries around the artificial corners of the forgotten masonry. Not even spiders or other vermin dared to ruin the sanctity of the crypt, or disturb what holy treasure might lie within. It was cold, hellishly cold under millions of tons of rock and mountain. If there had been any water within the caves, it would have frozen at the slightest contact with the bitter stone. But the still air was dry, and unbearably so, with not a trace of moisture in the halls. Their creators had made sure of that, long ago. A deep bass tremor reverberated through the rock, shaking loose tiny specks of dirt and gravel. Such a movement seemed to disturb the solemn sanctity of the caves, and the stone began to rumble angrily, violently. As more and more of the rock began to collapse from the ceiling and into the open space below, the timeless ward of the crypt was breached. The first trace of a lavender glow faded from sight in the newly opened ceiling. Mane, horn, and purple irises peered cautiously into the settling dust, waiting to see if any more stone would collapse from the ceiling. After a few rocks popped out of the walls and clattered across the rough floor, the solemn silence returned to its home. Using her caution to overrule her academic excitement, the unicorn mare climbed over the boulders in front of her to look into the void of darkness within the crypt. She waited there for several seconds as if expecting something to materialize from behind her. After no such event happened, she huffed and turned back towards the entrance to the cavern. Feeble northern sunlight provided meager illumination to the immediate area, but after traveling past nearly fifty feet of jagged and smoldering stone, it might as well have been nonexistent. “Rainbow Dash!” Her voice echoed in an alien manner amongst the walls of stone that had not known the burden of sound for innumerous years. After receiving no response, the unicorn’s brow furrowed in annoyance and she released another foggy breath. “Rainbow! Could you please come down here and bring those torches you have with you? It’s dark in here!” A distant voice reached her, pitched and cracky in a pleasantly endearing way. “Can’t you just use your magic, Twilight? Why do I have to go in there?” Reluctance permeated her words as they strained to travel through the roughly-carved tunnel into the mountain. The unicorn known as Twilight Sparkle only swished her purple and magenta tail in agitation at Rainbow Dash’s reluctance. “Because I just spent the last half hour blasting through all that rock! My horn is spent, Rainbow. Even I need to take a break sometime!” A sigh of defeat was barely audible from outside the tunnel, and a vibrant pegasus mare fluttered into the cavern and set some torches down in front of Twilight. “There, I got them. Can I go back outside now?” Twilight picked up one of the torches and provided a small spark from her horn to ignite it. After placing it in a sconce, she set it aside and turned back to Rainbow Dash. The colorful mare, with her powdery blue coat and prismatic mane and tail, was flashing her magenta eyes to the flickering shadows among the walls and ceiling. She took great effort to keep her knees from shaking, but her ever-active wings betrayed her. The tips of the sleek and powerful limbs twitched nervously, and the feathers were slightly flared to her sides in worry. “What’s the matter, Rainbow? Are you nervous?” Twilight had precisely calculated her question, and it brought forth the reaction she wanted from Rainbow. “No! I’m just…” Rainbow slid her hoof over a few gravelly pebbles as she willed her anxiety away. “I just don’t like caves. They’re a little, you know, small.” Not one to be shown up, she grabbed a torch and lit it before trotting deeper into the tunnels. Twilight smiled and grabbed her own torch before following her. One of the many natural quirks of the pegasus race was their aversion to confined spaces, as they preferred the open sky to subterranean spelunking. Rainbow Dash’s concern, as much as she tried to hide it, was therefore understandable to the unicorn scholar. The hallway continued on into the darkness, and even after lighting several sconces, the exit remained hidden in shadow. The stone floor was blisteringly cold, and the explorers’ hooves were becoming numb. Stopping at a bowl filled with tinder and other fuel, Twilight and Rainbow Dash paused to warm their bodies and admire some of the ancient glyphs carved into the walls. “Amazing!” Twilight whispered as she studied the carvings. Reaching into her saddlebag, she withdrew a roll of paper and some charcoal. Using her magic to hold the paper against the wall, she quickly made a rubbing of the characters and prepared the materials for more. “I don’t get it. Just looks like some of Scoot’s mouthwriting to me,” Rainbow half-grumbled, half-joked to herself. The alphabet, if it could be called one, consisted largely of simple, scratchy lines interspersed with occasional pictograms. The panel of the hall as a whole looked like little more than a nasty tangle of hair or spider webs to the untrained pegasus, although with some intrinsic order behind it. Twilight rolled up her third rubbing of the wall and sat back to admire the work as it was. “They’re ancient pegasus glyphs, actually. Before the unification of the three tribes under the Equestrian banner, the pegasi used this sort of simple alphabet to form their messages, unlike the earth ponies or unicorns.” Rainbow Dash’s ears perked ever so slightly. “What, you mean like in the story? Like that play we did a while back on Hearth’s Warming Eve with Commander Hurricane and all them?” “Yes, exactly! After that play, I was interested in learning about the three tribes. There’s so much history that's been lost to time!” Twilight’s eyes glowed with the academic gleam that possessed her whenever she got the chance to talk about something she learned, but Rainbow angled her head to the side in confusion. “I thought the story was the history of the three tribes. You know, how they all hated each other and then that big blizzard came and they’re all like ‘Oh no, we need to go find a new home!’ and then they go find a new land but they all claimed it at the same time so then they fight but they get trapped in a cave and almost get frozen but then the fire of friendship drives away the Windigo thingies and they all live happily ever after? Right?” Twilight chuckled at Rainbow’s very succinct retelling of the traditional Hearth’s Warming story and shook her head. “Yes, well, that’s what the official story is now. Don’t forget this was almost two thousand years ago. A lot can be forgotten in that time. For example, have you ever heard about what life was like for the tribes before the blizzard other than that it was bad and they hated each other?” Magenta eyes searched the intricate wall for answers, but ultimately Rainbow shrugged her wings. “Can’t say that I have. So what, you think you found more of that forgotten history or whatever in this place?” Twilight slowly stood up and used her magic to grab her torch as she began to walk again. “Exactly! Actually, I found a lot of information about the ancient unicorns and earth ponies in the Star Swirl the Bearded section of the Canterlot Library, but there’s almost nothing on the pegasi. Any information I came across was secondhoof and dated within two decades of the Eternal Blizzard event, and by that time the tribes hated each other so much that half of the material was little more than slander and rumors against them. The only direct accounts of pegasus history come from burial temples like these scattered throughout the north.” “Wait, so you’ve already been to one of these places before?” Rainbow raised an interested eyebrow as she brought her eyes off of the ceiling and back to her friend. “No, but I know of their existence, so I could find this one. I got most of my research from the Canterlot Library. A few months ago, the librarian found this, and it provided a lot of startling but interesting information about the ancient pegasi.” Stopping to look through her bags, Twilight withdrew a tattered book. The binding material caused Rainbow Dash to drop back in alarm. “Leather? They used leather? That’s disgusting!” Although the pegasus stuck her tongue out at the tanned hide of another animal, Twilight simply continued to trot along—although not without keeping the book a good distance from her. “It is appalling, but these pegasi came from a different time. A different landmass, even. Without the farming magic of the earth ponies, they had to resort to some extreme measures to provide food for themselves.” Rainbow Dash stopped in place as the words sunk in, then quickly galloped back to Twilight’s side. “Wait wait wait wait, a different landmass? No earth ponies? What do you mean?” Twilight opened the book with her magic as she walked. “This book is actually the journal of Commander Hurricane. He described a pegasus empire called Cirra that existed across the ocean to the east, in what is now the country of Grivridge. He was actually the emperor for a few months before it collapsed.” Temptation to grab the journal and read it for herself to make sure Twilight wasn’t messing with her crossed Rainbow's mind, but she quickly realized it was encoded in the same scratchy lettering that had adorned the wall behind them. Instead, she just had to assume Twilight was speaking the truth, even if it didn’t make sense. The pages of the book fluttered by rapidly as the unicorn stuck her nose in it and reviewed the material. “Apparently, the Cirran Empire was the original home of every pegasus in the world. They neighbored the griffons—and they most certainly didn’t get along.” “And by ‘didn't get along’ you mean…?” “They hated each other, and fought because of it.” Twilight’s eyes grew dark as she closed the book and levitated it back to her satchel. “Their entire history was nothing but war and death, first with the pegasi dominating the griffons, then with the griffons destroying the Cirran Empire. Millions died, millions! The only reason the bloodshed stopped was because the Cirrans fled to the Equestrian landmass. Otherwise,” she turned to Rainbow, “the griffons might have killed all the pegasi.” A heated anger awoke in Rainbow Dash’s chest, though for what reason she couldn’t tell why. “You don’t know that! I mean, Gilda told me tales about Grivridge’s military ancestry and whatnot, but there’s no way they would do something like that!” Steamy puffs of breath escaped from her nose, and her wings were flared open in anger and shock. Startled, Twilight quickly moved closer to Rainbow and placed her hooves on Dash's blue shoulders to calm her down. “Rainbow, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just saying that both sides have a very dark history, as hard to believe as it is today. And like I said, it was a different time. Ponies and griffons alike have changed for the better. War on such a scale hasn’t been seen in years.” She took her hoof off of the pegasus’ shoulders and waited. Taking several deep breaths, Rainbow glanced at her hooves. “You’re right. It’s just—I don’t know. It’s pointless. Who knows what those ponies or griffons could have done if they hadn’t died.” She sighed, and with a powerful shake of her wings she seemed to fling away her bad thoughts and began to walk again. “Guess that explains why they were known for being tough. It had never occurred to me that their—my—entire history was founded on war.” Twilight sympathized with the colorful mare’s plight, but they continued to walk on in silence. As torches were lit and sconces were filled, the end of the hallway finally came into view in the form of a massive, featureless wall. Rainbow Dash nearly dropped her torch as she groaned aloud. “Please don’t tell me that we went the wrong way.” “I don’t think so,” Twilight answered as she stepped forward to observe the wall. Setting her gear down, she withdrew a few tools from her satchel and dusted at the surface. The stone was incredibly smooth, and cut with the kind of craftsmanship that any mason today could only dream of. If the rock were made out of a lighter stone such as marble instead of the darker granite, it would be possible to see one’s reflection in it. Rainbow was content at first to watch Twilight scan the surface of the wall with her magic, but after the first five minutes the boredom became unbearable. She had nothing to read, and attempting to glean anything from the scratchy Cirran writings that decorated the hall was doomed to failure. Flying sprints up and down the length of the passageway and timing herself would have occupied Dash for ten or so minutes, but the air was so cold her feathers were freezing and her wings were beginning to numb. Instead, she had to resort to helping Twilight study the wall in what was bound to be a fruitless endeavor against the unicorn’s trained eye. That was why she was surprised when her eyes glanced across a symbol of a horseshoe encompassing a thunderbolt that Twilight had apparently missed. Instead of a carving, however, the icons glowed a soft white. Getting up from her seat against the wall, Rainbow Dash walked over to the symbol and lowered her nose towards it. “Hey Twilight, what’s this funny thing mean?” She pointed towards the symbol, and Twilight trotted over for a closer look. The lavender mare’s eyes narrowed and she angled her head to the side. After a few seconds of study, she raised a skeptical eyebrow towards Rainbow Dash. “What are you talking about? I don’t see anything.” Confused, Rainbow rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things and tightened her expression. “What do you mean you can’t see anything? It’s right here!” She gestured to the wall, but Twilight simply shook her head. Mildly annoyed, Rainbow pressed her hoof on top of the symbol… …then jumped in surprise as it slid into the wall. There was a precursory click as stone met stone, and a tiny blade pierced the soft frog of her hoof. The pegasus shouted and quickly withdrew her limb, licking at the trickle of blood the blade had spawned. Alarmed, Twilight quickly grabbed a thin strip of gauze from her bags and wrapped it around Rainbow Dash’s leg. “Oh my gosh! Rainbow, are you okay? Here, let me see what I can do.” Her horn flared up briefly as she prepared a spell, but Rainbow Dash shook it away. “Geez, Twilight, calm down! I’m fine, it’s just a little scratch. Stupid Cirran booby-traps,” she muttered. Setting her hoof down, she approached the newly formed insert into the wall and looked at it cautiously. “Just what in Tartarus was that supposed to do—” A deep vibration from the wall cut off her words. Surprised, the two ponies leapt back several feet from the now-shaking partition as it shook ancient dust and gravel loose. With a hideous groan, the massive rocks over five feet thick split apart at the center and withdrew into the walls. Rows of torches suddenly sprang to life from within, providing their dim, orange light to illuminate the massive stone crypt. Rainbow Dash had never been more stunned in her life. If her jaw could have hit the floor it would have, but instead she found herself lying on her back and grasping her scratched foreleg in awe. Twilight was no better off, and her horn crackled with the excess surprise escaping in the form of diffuse magic. Together they stood up, and Rainbow glanced between her hoof and the opened chamber with incredulity. “What the… How the… wha?” was all the confused Pegasus could produce. Once Twilight had overcome her initial shock, she began to apply her encyclopedic knowledge to the situation. Turning back to Rainbow Dash, she unwrapped the bandage from her blue foreleg and looked at the cut again. A smile at unexpected fortune lit her face. “I get it now! The door is attuned to pegasus Empatha! That’s why I couldn’t find the opening, because it was specifically designed to be opened only by a pegasus!” Twilight’s hooves clopped against the stone as she jumped in excitement. “I’m so glad I brought you along, Rainbow!” The pegasus scratched her mane abashedly and chuckled. “And here I thought that you only wanted me for my speed to get up here. But wait, didn’t you say you went through one of these places before? And what the hay is an empa-hooza?” Twilight gathered her bags and began to trot into the crypt, with Rainbow Dash not far behind. “No, I've never been to one, but I have read about them. Nothing I read mentioned a secret door like this. And second, it’s Empatha. It’s what gives the pegasi their magic.” “What, like standing on clouds and stuff?” “Yes, exactly! Princess Celestia taught me about this last week before I started this expedition. The three different pony races all have natural magic. The unicorns have Arcana, the earth ponies have Endura, and the pegasi have Empatha. They all manifest in different forms.” Twilight set her bags down on a nearby table and crackled her horn for effect. “Arcana is the most direct form of magic. By channeling a unicorn’s mana, it allows us to cast spells that affect the world around us, whether they be physical or illusory. Endura is the reason why the earth ponies can grow food so well and why they’re naturally stronger than pegasi or unicorns, and Empatha allows pegasi to fly, stand on clouds, and control the weather and elements of nature. Fluttershy’s “Stare” is an expression of Empatha.” Grabbing a few tools and pouches, Twilight began to examine the crypt’s contents. “The magic is carried in a pony’s blood, which is why unicorns can’t give blood to pegasi, and so on and so forth.” “Wow.” Rainbow Dash brushed her hoof lightly against the stone ground as she thought. “I guess you wouldn’t have gotten in without me then. But wait, how come I’ve never heard of this Empatha stuff before? It seems like it’s a pretty important part of being a pegasus.” “That’s probably because the majority of pegasi only use it passively. The pegasi in the Royal and Honor Guards are trained how to use it actively, but I wouldn’t know anything about that other than that it can help in combat. Frankly, and pardon my generalization here, but most pegasi don’t go on to study the magics like unicorns do. They just know that it works and they don’t bother to question it.” “Heh. Well I guess you’re right. I never bothered to figure it out either, but it is kinda awesome.” The torches in the crypt were finally bringing heat to the frigid air, and Rainbow Dash began to hover and stretch her wings. “So what do you wanna find? Hopefully I won’t have to go sticking my hooves into any more of those symbol thingies.” Twilight surveyed the room and pointed to some bookshelves against the far walls. “Find anything that seems interesting over there. Leather-bound books would be a good start, because they were only used by the Cirrans before moving here. Thick tomes as well, the thicker the better.” Rainbow Dash nodded and flew towards one of the towering bookshelves to paw through its contents. Most of the books were made of canvas and tree-bark backing, but there were a few leather books as well. She set those books aside, as well as some of the larger ones she came across. As she pulled off more and more books, a hidden space behind the bookshelf began to appear. Curious, Rainbow took the whole section of books off the shelf and carefully set them on the floor. A rectangular hole opened up before her, with a simply bound yet perfectly conditioned book inside. Gingerly taking the tome out of its compartment, Rainbow opened the pristine cover and looked at the perfectly white pages. Equiish alphabetical symbols greeted her, eliciting a small grin of triumph from the pegasus. Being careful not to damage the work, Rainbow Dash fluttered down to where Twilight was sifting through books by their Cirran titles. “Hey Twilight! Check this one out!” Depositing the book on top of the stack that the unicorn was reviewing, Rainbow dropped onto her hooves and waited. Carefully levitating the tome in front of her, Twilight began to flip through the pages. Her eyes widened with each successive page of Equiish print, accompanied by fine mouth drawn sketches adjacent to blocks of text. Trotting over to one of the stone tables, she set it down and began to scrutinize the volume in question. “Rainbow, this—this is incredible! Where did you find this?” The sly grin that was common on the accomplished mare’s face returned once more as she glided towards Twilight’s side. “In that bookshelf over there. It was placed in a little hole behind a whole bunch of other books.” Twilight flipped the book over and tested the pages. “Such a perfect condition… and in Equiish too! I would have said that this was made within the last twenty years, but Commander Hurricane’s signature is right here, inside the cover! It’s definitely from the time, even if it doesn’t look it.” “Couldn’t somepony else have just forged it and put it here for us to find?” Rainbow Dash said as she shrugged her shoulders and poked the book warily. Twilight shook her head and opened it up to the beginning narration. “There are some things that can’t fool good magic, and luckily you’re dealing with an expert. Besides, it wouldn’t make sense. Why make a fake historical record, travel all the way to some hidden crypt, hide it amongst several other books, and leave without taking anything? It wouldn’t add up. No,” she tapped her hoof affirmatively against the first page, and began to flip through the chapters, “this is genuinely Hurricane’s work. Although this name I don’t recognize. Commander Typhoon?” Rainbow Dash pushed a stone chair closer to the table and sat down. “Maybe we should read it then. I bet that Typhoon guy explains himself at some point in the text.” Twilight nodded and used her magic to pull a chair of her own behind her. “Well, there’s no time like the present to start. Let’s get some food cooking, and while we wait we can read.” Taking a deep breath, she turned to the first page and began to scan the text. “‘The following events have been compiled from my memory to the best of my recollection. It is with absolute certainty that I say that the events that happened during these years will be scrutinized to their fullest extent by the pony historians of generations to come. History is a malleable thing, and it is essential that it is recorded and preserved by those that lived it. Clover the Clever has written her own log of what happened, but the sentimentalism in her works assuredly glides over some facets of this history and rewrites others. My simple narration here will be enough to fill in my part of the story, and logs provided by Commander Typhoon will complete what transpired in my absence. ‘My name is Commander Hurricane, leader of the Cirran Tribe, Commander of the Royal Guard, and triumvir of the Equestrian Triumvirate. Within these pages lies the tale of a winter thought eternal, of rising tensions, of famine and death, and of frozen hearths. Forget what you thought you knew, for in all likelihoods it has been tainted by the deluge of time. Here begins the tale of the founding of a nation and how it almost came not to be. ‘My name is Commander Hurricane, and this is the truth.’” > Chapter 1: Siege > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1: Siege To understand what transpired during the Eternal Blizzard of 421 After Empire, it first becomes necessary for us to find the tipping point. Thus our story begins in the year of 409 AE, which foreshadowed the breakdown of relations between the Pegasi of Cirra, the Unicorns of the Diamond Kingdom, and the Earth Ponies of the Low Valleys. By 421 AE, the Hurricane-Lapis-Muffintop Accords, otherwise known as the Tri-Pony compact by the denizens of the three tribes, had provided the means for fifteen years of relative peace between our disparate races. Weak after our exodus from Dioda, Cirra graciously accepted the mantle of keepers of the weather and guardians of the land offered to us by the unicorns and the earth ponies. Our soldiers patrol the skies, responding to threats against any of our three tribes and policing the lands of the other two. The clouds come and rain on schedule for the earth pony farmers, and the skies are kept clear around the Diamond Kingdom for the unicorn astronomers and scholars who study the heavens. In return, the earth ponies give us food and the unicorns give us trade. For fifteen years, the Tri-Pony compact guided our relations and kept the peace between us, but it could not cure hatred. Hatred against the earth ponies, considered the lowest race by the unicorns and the pegasi. Hatred against the unicorns, a squabbling nobility whose only concern was luxury and comfort. Hatred against us, the pegasi, the third race, who appeared from across the ocean, claiming food and resources and taxing an already delicate system. Us, the newcomers who dictated how the other tribes should run their lives with our military presence. If any surprise should be found in this, perhaps it should be that the peace lasted as long as it did. ----- High above a valley washed with the cool breeze of a summer morning, a black pegasus rode columns of hot air up and down over an elaborate stone city below. The gentle tug against his primaries and the whistle of wind past his short, sky blue mane filled him with a mixture of exhilaration and calm known only to the pegasus race and the joys of flight. Commander Hurricane, at the prime age of twenty-nine, felt absolutely alive. It was a feeling he seldom had the time to enjoy anymore. In addition to being the supreme officer of the Cirran Legion, Hurricane was Commander Maximus of Cirra, emperor in all but title. He was emperor once, but he had voided that rank long ago in the face of the worst victory in Cirran history. That victory had cost the Cirrans their home but had won them their lives, allowing them to flee across the ocean from those who would destroy them. Those were dark days indeed, but Hurricane and his ponies had survived with incredible sacrifice. The sacrifice of thousands of volunteers who gave their lives in a destroyed cloud-city, once the pinnacle of Cirran might. A sacrifice in blood that could never be repaid. An arrow struck the onyx armor across Hurricane’s chest, bouncing off harmlessly and tumbling towards the ground. With a sigh, the Commander brought his attention back to the battlefield below him. Flexing his wings, he heard the satisfying grind of wingblade scales sliding past each other. Checking that his sword was tightly locked in its scabbard, Hurricane twisted his wingtips and spiraled towards the ground. Thousands of armor-clad pegasi streaked through the smoky air across the city, flying in neat formation as they approached its stone walls. Smoke rose from the buildings immediately within the walls of the city, their roofs torn open from the fiery rain of siege weapons on the cliffs above. The ramparts along the walls were bristled with unicorn soldiers, and flashes of light indicated the discharge of mana towards the ponies on the shores of the river that flowed through the city and the valley alike. The assaulting army numbered twelve thousand in strength, but what they lacked in magic they made up for in those monstrous engines of war that battered the walls. Approaching the centermost tower along the walls, Hurricane flared his powerful wings and gently set himself down amongst the unicorns defending them. His unshod hooves left hollow clopping sounds across the stone as he strode over towards the center of the tower, where a unicorn clad in blue and gold armor reviewed a series of maps. “Chiseled Gem. It has been quite a while since we last talked.” Hurricane placed his hoof on the center of the map, drawing the unicorn captain’s eyes away from the paper and towards his face. A scowl grew across Chiseled Gem’s features, and he turned from the table towards the battle against the northern walls. “Hurricane! About fucking time you showed up! These crystal bastards have been throwing themselves against our defenses for two days now. I thought the Legion was supposed to be fast!” The Commander regarded the situation before him with a disinterested attitude at best. “We are when we need to be. I figured the walls of this city would be strong enough to last a few days and soften up the barbarians for us before I commit soldiers to its defense. I'm glad to see that I was right. And it’s Commander Hurricane. Now, what can I help you with?” Chiseled Gem turned back towards the table and pulled a piece of parchment over towards Hurricane with his magic, which Hurricane took and flattened out against the stone railing. “These damned siege engines are our biggest concern right now. The Crystal warlords know they aren’t getting through River Rock’s walls with numbers alone, so they’ve been flinging massive boulders at us to break them down.” As he spoke, a gargantuan rock covered in oil and flame slammed hard against the top of one of the walls, shattering the walkway and sending dozens of unicorns falling to their deaths. The captain winced at the sound of its impact and pointed towards where the constructions were reloading. “Their fire is keeping my soldiers suppressed. Otherwise, we would have routed these barbarians yesterday.” “Well. Consider those engines destroyed,” Hurricane replied. Lifting his head towards the sky, he produced a shrill whistle that pierced the air with unnatural clarity. At his signal, four thousand Cirran legionaries descended from the clouds and began to rip through the crystal pony lines in front of the city. The sudden descent of the mighty pegasus armies threw their advance into turmoil, and the unicorns along the walls were able to push the barbarians back with lethal charges of magic. As Hurricane took to the air, Chiseled Gem called out to him. “The Diamond Kingdom owes you one, Commander.” “More than one.” It may have been cold over River Rock, but just outside of the walls the blood and sweat of the Crystal warriors made it positively humid. What had once been hardy farmland and floodplains worked by unicorn tenets to supplement the food shipments from the Low Valleys had been trampled into mud and gravel and fertilized by fallen equines. Even in death, the bodies of the Crystal soldiers provided a glare with whatever magic it was that gave their coats a crystalline sheen. Gemstone weapons were scattered uselessly across the rocks, and the wounded attempted to crawl back to the camp on the far ridge. The arrival of the Cirran Legion brought with it a systematic and ruthless efficiency that served as a remarkable contrast to the desperate efforts of the unicorn soldiers to defend their home. Whereas the Diamond soldiers attempted to use their magic as a wall to take down the foremost line of barbarians as they advanced, the Legion dissected their ranks into chaotic and disoriented pockets of resistance which they then preyed upon from the sky. The leading regiments of Crystal soldiers were quickly and brutally neutralized, although not without the cost of Cirran lives. Hurricane had his sights set not on the soldiers around him but on the five massive catapults along the western cliff face, just out of range of the unicorn mages. They had completed another volley against the city walls, tearing massive holes along the perimeter and smashing the gates to pieces. If the Legion had been ten minutes later, the Crystal barbarians would have already breached the interior of the city and begin to threaten the castle itself. Hurricane, however, had known exactly how much time he had to play with, and fortunately the Legion had already finished shredding the leading regiments of the assault and was moving through the remaining ranks, pushing them away from the city walls. Without taking into consideration how many soldiers there might be defending the wooden structures of the catapults, Hurricane dove headfirst onto the uppermost platform. His hooves smashed the floorboards as he struck them, and he transitioned the momentum into launching himself at the nearest Crystal soldier he could see. The stallion had no time to react, and his hexagonal irises widened in surprise as Hurricane tackled him off of the platform and towards the level below. A panicked shriek began in the soldier’s throat, but the stallion was quickly silenced as Hurricane drove his head into the floor, producing an audible crack. Flipping once as he left the body, the Commander popped the latch on his scabbard and drew his sword with lightning speed. There were seven crystal ponies on the floor around Hurricane, and they quickly grabbed their weapons and left the machinery of the catapult to attack the pegasus intruder. Seven swords were pitted against Hurricane’s new skysteel sword and wingblades, causing the pegasus to smile around the hilt of his weapon. The advantage lay with him. Not waiting for the circle to close around him, Hurricane charged the largest of the seven barbarians. The brute carried a massive axe in his jaws and began to swing it as Hurricane approached, but his strength was nullified by the speed of the Commander’s attacks. Diving low, Hurricane passed under the swing of the axe and struck at the knees of the large stallion. The red soldier shouted in pain, collapsing onto his forelimbs as Hurricane slid under him. With one swift jab of his sword, Hurricane decorated the blade with blood and silenced his opponent. His sudden and swift execution of the strongest fighter of their group gave the remaining six bandits pause, but they pressed against Hurricane anyways and encircled him. With a furious chorus of howls, they swung their swords at his shadowy figure in any way they possibly could. The pegasus appeared trapped between them, forced to respond quickly with his blades to avoid losing limbs. But for all their efforts they could not touch Hurricane. Sliding to the sides and ducking under slashes, Hurricane struck out with his wings against his assailants. One was dropped with a quick flick from his right; another was felled with a stab from his sword through the chest. In a matter of seconds, Hurricane had cut down all but one of the soldiers. The last one backed away from him in fear, his sword shaking violently in his mouth. Hurricane walked closer to the survivor, forcing him into a corner. The terrified stallion struck out at him with his blade, but Hurricane disarmed it easily. Raising his own weapon over his head, he drove it towards the cowering soldier. The wall produced a dull thunk as Hurricane planted his sword in it. Grabbing the sniveling creature off of the ground, Hurricane raised him to eye level. “Now would be a good time to start running.” Tossing the young soldier aside, Hurricane clamped his jaws around the hilt of his sword and worked on pulling it from the wall. A pattering of hooves on wooden floorboards was audible over the roar of battle, and by the time he freed the blade from the spruce wood, the crystal pony was long gone. With the siege weapon free of its personnel, Hurricane took the time to examine the machinery involved in it. Complicated gear-work and counterweights were connected along a central shaft towards the bucket that held the rocks. It was an impressive feat of engineering, even if the Legion had no use for it. What was most alarming about it was the complexity of the system. If this was a native crystal pony design, then their combat engineers far outstripped the skills of even the best unicorn mathematicians and physicists. Regardless of the skill of the machine’s assembly, it needed to be brought down. Fluttering up to the end of the throwing arm, Hurricane located the structure that supported the counterweight. Drawing his sword, he began to hack away at the thick ropes supporting the ballast. With a resounding clap, the taut cords snapped apart, dropping the hefty weight towards the ground below. The counterweight smashed through three stories of supports on its way down, causing the front of the catapult to buckle and collapse upon itself. The tree trunks that formed the skeleton of the machine groaned as they stretched and bent until the siege engine finally fell to pieces. Hurricane spared little time in observing the destruction of the first siege engine. Instead, he watched as his legionaries swarmed the remaining four catapults like a swarm of hornets. One of the centurions had procured a set of torches, and within seconds the next catapult was engulfed in seething orange flame. One by one, the remaining weapons fell in catastrophic ways until the volley of boulders against River Rock was finally silenced. The shoreline outside the city was littered with dead bodies of all kinds, and the Crystal armies were in full retreat from the onslaught of the Legion. “What are you doing! Stop the retreat, damn it! Archers, bring those blasted peggers out of the sky!” A rough voice from far behind the Crystal lines shouted its raging orders at the fleeing soldiers that streaked past. Hurricane searched for the source amongst the numerous dark bodies that were galloping away from the city until he found it. A rather tall, gray and red crystal pony stallion screamed at his subordinates, stomping his hooves in frustration as they ran with their tails between their legs. He was covered in diamond armor from head to hoof, absolutely protected from brute force and magic attacks to anywhere but his face. A platoon of archers surrounded him, bows tightly drawn and ready. Recognizing the pony, Hurricane descended from his perch to put the stallion within earshot. “Warlord Heavy Trot! Haven’t you realized you already lost?” shouted Hurricane towards the warlord below him. Snarling, the crystal pony turned his head upwards and drew his sword. “You! You and your damned Legion did this! River Rock was on the verge of collapse, but instead I’m sitting over thousands of dead! How dare you involve yourself in things that don’t concern you!” Hurricane snorted in derision. “Legendary as your reputation may be, Warlord, you are a fool. You and your barbaric ponies have attacked the Diamond Kingdom before, and was the response of Cirra any different?” The archers shuffled uncomfortably, but their bows remained taut. “In case you didn’t realize, Cirra and the Kingdom share mutual interests. Though I would pardon you if you didn’t understand such political intricacies. Crystal ponies only conduct politics from the end of the sword—and nopony can wield a sword better than a pegasus.” Heavy Trot ground his diamond-studded teeth and stepped forward to challenge Hurricane. “Then face me, coward! Let’s see whose sword is faster in honorable combat!” “What honor does your kind deserve, ruthless savages who plunder homes and kill innocents for their things?” Hurricane spun in the air and folded his rear legs under him. “I’ve fought traitors with more honor than you.” Striking out his legs, Hurricane proceeded to buck the air. A powerful roar of thunder filled the air as the atmosphere was ripped apart behind the Commander’s hooves. A long bolt of electricity materialized, smashing across the sky faster than any bow could fire. The thunderbolt connected with the Warlord’s face, filling his body with three million volts of electricity. The earth pony’s mouth contorted into a shriek of agony, silent under the current that strangled his vocal cords. The archers surrounding him dove away from the bolt, fearing that the electricity would pursue them as well. As quick as the lightning connected it was over, and Warlord Heavy Trot was reduced to a charred mangle of flesh and bones in a diamond suit of armor. Hurricane perched atop the remains of one of the catapults as he watched the survivors of the Crystal armies run for their lives through the valley and ridges that so defined the Diamond Kingdom. Pegasi flew past him on either side in tight formation, chanting the victory song of the Cirran Legion as they spiraled into the clouds. Despite their enthusiasm, several of the centuries flew with holes in their ranks in remembrance of their fellow soldiers who had died and could not fly with them. Hurricane took a quick count of his soldiers. He had brought four thousand legionaries with him to fight twelve thousand Crystal warriors, and he supposed he lost about five hundred. The unicorn soldiers that lined the remains of the walls as Hurricane returned to River Rock were celebrating and embracing each other in absolute euphoria. Despite the destruction in the northern quarter of the city, their homes were safe and civilian casualties were low. Even the officers threw off their helmets and joined in with their subordinates, raising their hooves to the sky as platoons of legionaries flew across the city in perfect formation. Hurricane was greeted by a round of cheering from the unicorn officers manning the observation tower as he set his hooves down. Chiseled Gem walked up to him, a hearty smile adorning his weary face. “Commander, you did it! Glad to see that the Legion is still as sharp as ever. Things would have been pretty bad if you hadn’t have shown up.” The unicorn captain threw a hoof across Hurricane’s back, which the black pegasus shrugged off. Instead, Hurricane distanced himself to a respectable length and gave Gem a soldierly nod. “Glad to have helped, but don’t expect us to bail you out all the time. Just because the Legion is dedicated to providing military aid to all the tribes doesn’t mean that this should become a regular occurrence. I could understand that from the earth ponies, but you unicorns have a military of your own. You should be able to keep your borders under control from these kinds of threats.” Hurricane walked past the unicorn officers and towards the city streets below. “Of course, Commander. Regardless, if you ever need unicorn aid, my soldiers would be happy to help.” Giving as best an approximation for the Cirran salute a wingless pony could, Chiseled Gem returned to discuss repairs with his officers. Hurricane stepped onto the frosty streets, where the unicorn nobility was emerging from their houses to see that their world was still secure. Ignoring their pompous glares and remarks, the Commander forced his way through the growing crowds towards the castle at the end of the main street, built into the side of the steep valley walls that the city was nestled in. It was when Hurricane was ascending the steps outside the massive doors to the castle did he notice that he had picked up a companion. A light jingling of bells told him who it was, and a slight smile was drawn to the Commander’s face. Without turning his head, he began to speak to the unicorn following him. “A pleasure to speak with you again, Star Swirl. How fares the King these days?” The elderly unicorn known as Star Swirl accelerated his canter to walk by Hurricane’s side. He was an old stallion with a long, white beard and a blue robe across his back. A series of bells at the hem of the robe tinkled lightly across the cobblestone roads, and a blue hat decorated with constellations flopped gently with his gait. His gray coat alluded to an uninteresting life, were one to judge a pony by his color. Hurricane, however, had known ponies with dull coats before, and they were anything but uninteresting. Star Swirl the Bearded’s voice was remarkably friendly and quite grandfatherly. “He does well, Hurricane. It was his fifty-seventh birthday just last week.” “Send him my regards then, and my apologies for missing an important event. Now, was there something you wished to discuss?” The wise mage nodded and led Hurricane into the halls of the castle. The unicorn guards that were stationed at every doorway saluted the two ponies as they walked past, and Star Swirl began to ascend a massive spiraling staircase that led to the upper levels of the structure. His pace was slow as his arthritic limbs extended and contracted, and Hurricane maintained a respectful place by his side. “Nothing of absolute importance. I just wanted to say that I watched the fight from the observatory deck of the castle. Taking down a siege engine alone, hm? I see that politics haven’t dulled your blade, Commander. I don’t know many ponies who would even attempt such a feat; far fewer would be able to pull it off.” “I appreciate the praise, Star Swirl. You know there are few ponies who I regard as highly as you, and not many of them are unicorns.” A slight laugh left the elder stallion’s lips. “You do me a great honor, Hurricane. I know you give your trust sparingly; perfectly understandable, mind you, considering what you went through.” A massive doorway imbued with all color of gems greeted them, and Star Swirl’s horn lit as he opened it. “Here we are. Commander, if you would.” “Thank you.” Pulling off his helmet, Hurricane placed it on a table and sat down, allowing his eyes to wander the room. Bookshelves of incredible height stretched from floor to ceiling, with each column holding thousands of tomes. A massive window overlooked the eastern horizon, where the sea was just barely visible through the end of the valley as a blue mirror between rocky crags. The sight awoke a profound feeling of homesickness in the Commander’s gut. Star Swirl followed Hurricane’s gaze and sat down next to him. After a long pause, the unicorn began to speak softly. “I was there, you know.” Hurricane raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Another brief smile came across Star Swirl’s face, and he used his magic to levitate a pipe to his lips. “I was there in Ouvrir, the small town where your kind first made contact with us. It had started out as a day full of dread. The Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys were at each other’s throats, and the good King Lapis had every intention of delivering an ultimatum to Chancellor Muffintop; surrender your food reserves, or face the wrath of the Diamond Kingdom.” Star Swirl drew several puffs from his pipe and released a smoke ring into the air, closing his eyes and chuckling softly to himself. “Instead, when we arrive, we find the whole town absolutely enthralled with these new arrivals. A company of flying ponies! Why, it was absolutely amazing!” The unicorn drew on his pipe once more and held it out before him. “Lapis was so amazed by such a race of equines that he put aside his ultimatum in favor of establishing relations with the pegasi. He hoped that the leader of such an impressive band of military imperials would be able to foster and hold the peace between us. “He still holds that belief, you know.” Hurricane showed no reaction. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on the late morning sun to the east. A distant land called out to him, longing for the return of his kind, but it was overrun with death. The griffons had won, and Gryphus assuredly held control of Dioda from coast to coast. Any surviving Cirrans who couldn’t join the exodus would be hunted down and exterminated like vermin. No matter how much he longed for those distant shores and for the friends and family who died for his life, he could never return. Sensing his companion’s discomfort, Star Swirl decided to change the topic. “I saw how you got rid of the Crystal warlord out there. A thunderbolt to rival that of the mightiest storms! The sight of a pegasus producing such a feat of Arcana is amazing. How did you do it?” Relaxing a little, Hurricane stretched his wings across the back of the chair he sat in. “I wouldn’t call it Arcana, Star Swirl. That’s the type of magic unicorns have, am I correct?” Star Swirl nodded his affirmative. “I’m not at all an expert on how unicorn magic works, but I imagine it takes a good deal of focus to perform spells. I have seen many a Diamond soldier in my eight years defending our tribes, but never has one manipulated nature in such a way in combat.” Hurricane scratched his forehead with the tip of his hoof. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think it was more of an emotional action. There aren’t many things that anger me, but Heavy Trot and his callous disregard for pony life managed to kindle some sort of disgust. I directed that anger towards him, then…” Hurricane produced a whooshing sound with his breath to describe the rather violent death of the Crystal warlord. At some point, Star Swirl had produced a quill and parchment to take notes on, and he set those aside when Hurricane finished speaking. “Interesting. Such effectiveness against an enemy encased in diamond armor is highly unusual of Arcana, but it sounds like your magic is controlled by emotion rather than focus. Empatha, I would call it. But here’s something I don’t understand. If it works off of emotion, which I’m sure can be found in the heart of every soldier on the battlefield, how come I have not seen more of your legionaries perform similar feats of magic?” Hurricane thought for a long time before coming up with an answer. “Because it was never taught, I suppose. It took more than just a simple outburst of anger or energy to produce that thunderbolt. Hell, even I don’t know at all how it works. I think it takes some sort of innate focus, knowing what you want to do with your emotion. Desperation is too diffuse an outlet, I suppose, for pegasus magic to be directed from. “I’ll have to instruct my top commanders to look into this more when I return. However, this—what was it you called it? Empatha? Anyway, Cirran lore tells of the great figures such as Roamulus being able to command nature. Given, many of these tales are exactly that: lore. How accurate they are is subject to the sands of time, but military records from the early Cirran Empire, between zero and forty After Empire to be precise, show that several legates and commanders expressed magical abilities closely tied to their emotions. The mercenaries of the merchant city of Nyx were supposedly extremely adept at it. After that era, I assume it fell out of favor. Nothing more was said about it since.” Hurricane cast one last reluctant glance towards the east. “Some of that knowledge might have saved the Empire, had we known about it then.” In such a short time, Star Swirl had already produced nearly a ream of notes. The sheer amount of thought that went behind those observations astounded Hurricane, but then again, it was one of those traits peculiar to the unicorns. Even the most self-obsessed noble was surprisingly observant. The pegasi, for the most part, either acted upon the information that came to their face or bucked at that which came from behind. “This is very intriguing, I must admit.” Using his magic, Star Swirl stacked the notes and levitated them towards a desk covered with parchment of various sizes. “I will look forward to reviewing these notes at another time. Actually,” the elder rose upon his aged limbs and walked towards a rather large chest in the back of the room, “you might want to see this first.” Hurricane stood up and followed the unicorn, wondering at what it could be that motivated the usually rather slow mage to move in such a way. Standing a respectful distance behind the old stallion, Hurricane waited as he rummaged through the chest. “No, no. I thought I got rid of that. No. Ah, here we go.” Stepping away from the trunk, Star Swirl produced a diamond container which he laid on the table. Shuffling a few feet to his right, he gestured for Hurricane to step forward. “If you would, Hurricane. It took me a blasted amount of trouble to get those things in there, and I would rather not deal with the side effects of handling them myself.” Seeing the Commander’s skepticism, the unicorn smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Commander, they’re only harmful to unicorns. I very highly doubt that they’ll have any sort of effect on yourself.” Taking a deep breath, Hurricane grasped the container between his hooves and twisted the lid. The diamond came apart easily, revealing a large set of black crystals inside. Hurricane dumped them onto the table, where they clattered about with an unsettling acoustic vibration. Other than the strange noise, they didn’t appear to harm him in any way. Star Swirl, on the other hoof, winced as he drew closer. “Void crystals. Many of the Crystal warriors carry them as necklaces when they go into battle, though I had never quite understood why... until now. This latest siege gave me the chance to gather a few from the dead and study them. Painful business, that.” Here the unicorn paused to rub at his horn, which was producing rogue sparks of Arcana with its proximity to the stones. “In case you haven’t noticed my sparkler of a horn, void crystals are highly adept at absorbing Arcana. I would go so far as to say that they actively consume it.” Hurricane lifted a small crystal in his hoof and felt it vibrate. Examining it closer, he could see thin lines of mana being drawn from some of the surrounding magical devices; crystal lamps and Star Swirl’s horn, to name a few. He set the stone he was holding back on the table and pressed his hoof against it. After a moment of intense resistance, the black crystal collapsed into a layer of fine, black powder, producing a crack of mana in the form of fire. “Fascinating, to say the least. So the Crystal ponies carry these with them when they fight unicorns?” Hurricane turned away from the table and flexed his wings. “I don’t see how much use they would be to me, however. I’d barely be able to keep a necklace on in combat, and I wouldn’t want the thing dangling in my face when I’m performing complicated aerial maneuvers.” “I figured as much, and I did come up with a solution for you. Your helmet, if I may?” Hurricane shrugged his wings in indifference. “Sure.” Nodding, Star Swirl took several steps away from the desk and levitated Hurricane’s helmet over from where it lied on the far table. Grasping the sturdy onyx helmet between his hooves, Star Swirl ran a hoof across the gold trim. “This will work nicely. Would you mind crushing several of those crystals for me? Mighty difficult for a unicorn to break them, mind you, and I’ll need a fine powder of the stuff next.” When Hurricane nodded and began to place several of the void crystals under his powerful hooves, Star Swirl’s long horn crackled to life, and the gold trim of the helmet started to glow. After Hurricane had reduced a sizeable portion of the crystals to black dust, Star Swirl set the helmet down. “And now the fun begins.” Pushing the helmet closer to the powder, the unicorn quickly retreated from the table. There came the same acoustic sound from the dust as the helmet drew nearer, and the pile shifted across the table. With a loud hiss, tiny flakes of void crystals flew towards Hurricane’s helmet, sizzling loudly as they affixed themselves to the onyx surface. In a few short seconds, the pile of crushed void crystals had fused itself to the metal. “How…?” was all Hurricane could mutter as he took the helmet and examined it. The piece of armor looked no different from before; in fact, it actually appeared much more polished and refined than it had been. Placing the helmet on his head, Hurricane could feel no difference in its weight. The blasted singing the crystals produced in their larger forms was thankfully absent as he knocked a hoof against the surface. “Simple. The parasitic nature of the crystals draws them towards sources of Arcana. I merely charged the gold trim of your helmet, which is an excellent sponge for Arcana, and the void crystals became attracted towards it. The slow diffusion of mana from the gold across the rest of the helmet helps to fuse the void crystals in place. Now it should be able to absorb even the most powerful blows of unicorn magic across its surface, although the low concentration of the powder won’t hurt unicorns in proximity.” Without warning, Star Swirl’s horn alit and fired a blast of magic at Hurricane’s head. The pegasus jumped back in alarm and flared his wings, but he remained unhurt. The damned crystals were singing again, but their vibrations quickly dissipated as the Arcana was consumed. “See? Not a scratch on you,” Star Swirl remarked as Hurricane took the helmet off and looked at it. Not even a scorch mark was visible against the polished metal. Smiling, Hurricane set the helmet down and shook his head. “Star Swirl, you damned genius. Thank you. How will I repay you?” “Please, Commander, this is how I’m repaying you on the behalf of the Diamond Kingdom. River Rock would have fallen if you hadn’t have shown up, regardless of how much the Guard praises itself for the victories of the past. Come now, we can get the rest of your armor plated before lunch.” Hurricane was more than happy to assist Star Swirl in finishing the plating, but a loud knock on the study doors drew their attention. Before Star Swirl could go to them, the massive doors slammed open ahead of a white and purple unicorn mare. “Princess Platinum,” Star Swirl greeted the mare, bowing before her. “To what do I owe you this lovely visit?” “Not now, Star Swirl,” Princess Platinum responded, storming past him. “I have much more important business I need to discuss with the Commander here.” Hurricane groaned inwardly and set his hoof against his brow. Of all the unicorns he had ever met, Princess Platinum had to be by far the worst. With a silvery coat and delicately coiled mane and tail, the Princess was the definition of pampered. A silver crown studded with amethysts and a flowing robe of royal purple with white fur hemming confirmed her positioning as the daughter of King Lapis. “Please, for the love of Mobius, make it quick,” Hurricane muttered. The last thing he needed was for his ears to start bleeding from the mare’s whiny voice. Actually, if he recalled properly, Platinum barely of age. She was only just sixteen, a year past being called a filly. Regardless, the young mare acted as if she was already in charge of the Kingdom. “I don’t know what sort of strange gods you believe in, Hurricane, but I will not be talked to in such a way! I am Princess Platinum, daughter of the mighty King Lapis IV, heir to the throne of the Diamond Kingdom! I am above the common rabble such as yourself, and I demand I be treated as such!” Lifting her chin skyward, the mare put on such a foalish display of superiority that Hurricane was tempted to smack her like he did when his own children acted out. Rather than risk a diplomatic incident, however, the Commander guided his hoof towards grinding more void crystals into dust. “Just because you’re royalty doesn’t mean I answer to you,” Taking off his cuirass, he pushed it towards Star Swirl, who began to charge it for him. “And Cirra is most certainly beyond your concerns. The only unicorn I ‘take orders’ from is King Lapis, and even then we regard each other as equals.” “Being the daughter of the good King Lapis, I have the authority to speak on behalf of the Diamond Kingdom! And you, Commander, I saw you bring down the siege engines on the cliffs. I also saw you let the Crystal barbarians retreat! Why did you not use your mighty Legion to cut them down as they fled? They brought injustice upon unicorn lands, and so they should have paid for it!” The indignant Princess tried to lean towards Hurricane and leer into his face as she was used to doing with her servants when she was mad, but the black pegasus only responded with calm indifference towards the small mare glaring at him. “Was there any need to? Those ponies were led by a warlord of incredible brutality. He was the one who ordered these ‘injustices’ against the unicorns. I dealt with him, so I consider the matter closed. Furthermore, news has begun to reach my borders that the Crystal Ponies are striving to unify under a banner of peace, while such efforts are forestalled by the Warlords and their remarkable barbarism. However,” this time he lowered his head towards Platinum’s, causing the unicorn to take two frightened steps back, “if you feel that justice still has not yet been done, then send your own soldiers after them. I lost five hundred legionaries today, and I’ll be damned if I lose any more for settling your childish grudges.” Returning to his full height, Hurricane pushed a pile of crushed void crystals towards the charged cuirass and watched as they fused to the onyx surface. Platinum's face contorted into anger and frustration. Not once in all her sixteen years had anypony ever defied her in such a way as Hurricane did on a consistent basis. For the self-obsessed filly’s mind, it simply didn’t make any sense. “Childish grudges?! Why, I never!” Turning to the gray unicorn assisting Hurricane with preparing his armor, the princess stamped her hoof against the ground. “Star Swirl the Bearded! Show this pegasus brute what happens when you defy the lovely Princess Platinum!” “Now what’s that? I’m sorry, my dear Platinum, but I’m finding it difficult to hear in my old age.” The old unicorn winked at Hurricane, and a flicker of a smile formed in the corners of the Commander’s mouth. “Unghh! You two are useless! Useless!” shouted the filly as she stormed out of the room. When the doors finally shut behind her, Hurricane took the time to rub his wing feathers against his tail in a traditional Cirran curse. “Kids these days, hmm?” Star Swirl laughed as he finished his inspection of Hurricane’s cuirass. “Looks good to go, Commander. I assure you, there is not a finer specimen of armor in all the land.” Hurricane quickly donned his new armor and looked it over. “Thank you again, Star Swirl. Hopefully I won’t have to use the void crystals but, well, you never know. Cirra thanks you for your generosity.” Star Swirl escorted him towards the door. “On behalf of King Lapis and the Diamond Kingdom, I thank you and your Legion, Commander, which our beloved Princess forgot to do. May the Sun and Stars watch over you.” Hurricane paused to shake Star Swirl’s hoof before departing. “And may Mobius cast his mercy over your skies.” “Mobius, hm? Have I told you that your mythology fascinates me? The earth ponies’ is too dull or incomprehensible, and our unicorn myths and legends are only concerned with the mighty Kings of the past. Perhaps if we happen to find time to—” Star Swirl laughed and tapped his skull. “My apologies, I should not be keeping you. These kinds of ramblings tend to happen when you’re a unicorn scholar. Anyways, I hope the new armor pleases you, and may you return again one day in peace.” “If the Gods are willing, then it will be so.” Hurricane snapped his wings open to the side in perfect perpendicularity to the floor in the Cirran salute, then walked down the spiraling staircase, leaving Star Swirl to tend to his notes and studies. As he left, he took the time to admire the paintings and sculptures that decorated the halls of the River Rock castle and captivated the expression of ponykind in the way that only the unicorns could perfect. He didn’t notice the first flakes of summertime snow beginning to fall. > Chapter 2: Troubling Winds > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2: Troubling Winds A loose strand of wintry wind, lost in the caverns far below the snowy world, tugged gently at Twilight’s mane as she set the book down. Rainbow Dash had already prepared a fire in the ancient stone hearth embedded in the walls of the crypt, letting the water cook a soup of boiled greens and flowers for the two of them to eat. Both the unicorn and the pegasus gave each other surprised looks at what they had just read. “Well… I sure haven’t ever heard of that story before,” Rainbow commented as she turned back to the soup. She inhaled deeply, allowing the smell of tendered lettuce to waft into her nostrils. The warm, moist steam was a very pleasant change from the excruciatingly cold and dry cavern air that she had been breathing for the past hour. Her powdery blue wings fluttered, creating currents of air that forced the steam together in front of her face as a loose cloud of vapor. With a puff of air, Rainbow blew a hole through it, causing the steam to change into a ring as it dissipated. Twilight Sparkle had unfolded a scroll of parchment paper and was busy writing down passages from the chapter she had read, annotating the copies instead of the text itself. Setting her quill aside, she gathered the notes and buried her nose in them as she spoke. “This passage predates the Eternal Blizzard by twelve years, so it wouldn’t be common knowledge to the general population. Actually, I had read of this defense of the Unicornia province of the Diamond Kingdom in some of Star Swirl the Bearded’s logs from the era. Who knew that this was where Hurricane got his armor? I just assumed it was standard for the Cirran commanders of the time.” Although obviously intrigued, Rainbow lazily brushed her hoof across her mane as she watched the soup. “Who cares about some dingy old armor? It’s been over a thousand years since then. Don’t you think the guardsponies would have come up with better armor by now?” “Hurricane’s armor is legendary, Rainbow, not just because it was worn by Commander Hurricane, but because no other pegasus armor in existence has ever matched its durability despite its age. It’s still worn by the commander of the Royal Guard, and as far as Shining Armor told me, it hasn’t had to have been mended once since its creation. It’s capable of absorbing incredible amounts of Arcana or Empatha attacks, and allows its wearer to turn into one of the basic manifestations of Empatha, like fire or earth.” Rainbow’s brow rose slightly as she considered how awesome it would be to turn into fire. “That’s pretty cool. But what about some of the other stuff that Hurricane said, like the crystal ponies actually trying to attack the city? I thought the Crystal Empire was supposed to be a pretty chill place full of love and friendship and crap like that. That doesn’t sound anything at all like how Hurricane described them.” “Actually, I read about some of this in the books Princess Cadence lent me from the libraries of the Crystal Empire.” Using her magic to sift through her numerous bags, Twilight produced one of the many accounts she brought with her for the expedition. “During the Age of Tribes, the crystal ponies were a bunch of scattered groups led by powerful warlords. It was around the time of the Eternal Blizzard that they began to cast aside their traditionally violent ways and unify into the Crystal Empire that we know today. The process took fifty-odd years with the warlords opposing the movement, but eventually, enough of the groups united to throw out their violent leaders and establish their empire of love and friendship.” The soup was boiling now, so Rainbow quickly removed the pot from the fire and poured two hot bowls for herself and Twilight. Bringing the wooden bowls back to the table, the colorful pegasus sat down next to her companion and looked over the text of the book. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with the Hearth’s Warming story, though. Does he go on about it for much longer?” Twilight’s horn illuminated as she skimmed through the pages of the book. “For about another hundred pages. It talks a lot about the proliferation of skysteel weaponry and the advanced Empatha training the Praetorian began to receive after that battle. He said this was a log of what happened, but it seems more like a journal to me.” Rainbow brought her hooves to her forehead and groaned. “Can we just skip to the good stuff, please? I’m afraid if we have to listen to twelve more years of this I might as well ask some of the corpses here to move over.” “First, this isn’t a burial temple. It’s a crypt of knowledge, so there aren’t any corpses here. And second, how could you want to pass up on all this learning?!” Twilight regarded Rainbow’s lack of zeal for learning like an inquisitor from the days of yore cornering a heretic in their hovel. Rainbow simply ignored Twilight’s glare and shrugged her wings. “Because it’s just, like, boring. Don’t get me wrong, Commander Hurricane’s a pretty cool pegasus, but I want to hear about the Hearth’s Warming story.” Her chest inflated slightly as her features hardened into her classic cocky grin. “I want to know how awesome a portrayal of him I did!” Twilight rolled her eyes, knowing very well that Hurricane was hardly the brash and insensitive military hothead that the stories made him out to be. “Fine, we can jump to the later pages. At least I’ll be able to look over the whole book in detail when we get back to Ponyville.” The pages fluttered past Twilight’s nose as she pressed forward twelve years, finally stopping when she found the relevant dates. “Ah, here we go. This is one of Commander Typhoon’s logs. Nineteenth of Bare Trees, Four Hundred and Twenty-One After Empire.” ----- Amber Field was one of those towns whose unassuming façade belied a rat’s nest of danger and crime that thrived within the shadows of its dirty and worn buildings. The capital of the Low Valleys was considered the birthplace of the earth ponies, but despite its thousand years of history it was a wide but thinly populated town. Thousands of acres of fields surrounded the settlement in every direction, dotted here and there with large communal farmhouses. In the summer they would be overflowing with abundance in wheat and grains, but the year’s exceptionally harsh winter had killed off much of the excess. Instead, hardy vegetables such as broccoli and potatoes were all that grew in the cold season. Despite its rickety wooden houses, weathered brick storefronts, and stained governmental buildings, Amber Field was the single most important city in the entire tribal area. Everything the earth ponies produced passed through Amber Field on its way to the holds of Cirra to the north or the Diamond Kingdom to the south. Its central location between Cirra and the Diamond Kingdom made it the political center of the tribal world, and hundreds of unicorn merchants and traders had permanent residence in the earth pony city. Delegates from the three tribes would meet and discuss business in Amber Field, although in those days not much was discussed anymore. Such a prosperous city along a central trade route was a beacon to all manner of organized crime, with several powerful gangs operating out of the town. The proliferation of criminals and felons of all sorts warranted the garrison of an entire legion of the mighty Cirran armies to be permanently stationed in the city just to cut down on the crime. The excessive use of Cirra’s already incredible force had choked the once rampant gangs into the shadows, freeing up the streets in broad daylight to be safely travelled. The shadowy alleyways, however, were absolutely teeming with the scum of the equine world, and not even the Legion dared to commit centuries to clear them out. The first fifteen years of Cirran policing in the city were well received by Amber Field’s inhabitants, and it was considered a dishonor amongst the residents if you didn’t stop to salute a passing century of the mighty legionaries as they patrolled the city. Citizens were more than happy to provide food or drink to the soldiers in the summer months, and many of the merchants offered their wares at discounted prices to the enlisted. A party couldn’t start until off-duty legionaries entered the bar and filled it with their drunken songs and war stories from that unimaginable empire that once thrived far to the east. Knowing a legionary was an honor, and their natural agility and grace that came with being a pegasus made them highly sought companions during any of the numerous balls that were held on a routine basis in the town hall. How the times had changed since then. With the increasing pressure from the Crystal warlords to the northwest, crime in the city had spiraled out of control despite the heavy Cirran presence. In response, Imperator Secundus Cyclone, the Praetorian directly responsible for maintaining order throughout the tribal lands, tightened the Legion’s grip on Amber Field and imposed martial law. Centuries of legionaries led by imposing centurions prowled the streets with a strict regimental order, and archers watched the citizens below from every rooftop, their bows always fitted with an arrow. Gone was the friendliness and cheer from the pegasi who once walked the streets, replaced by coldness and distrust to those who came near. Such was necessary in those times, when ponies could be murdered in plain sight and not even the Legion was safe from attack. Imperator Tertius Typhoon walked the streets of Amber Field alone, accompanied only by her own thoughts and the regular click of her scabbard against her flank. She had known these streets when they were much friendlier, and it pained her to see so many closed shutters and cold shoulders. Amber Field was practically her home despite her heritage; once she had learned how to fly, she routinely accompanied her older brother Cyclone on patrols, tagging along at his side with nothing but a kitchen knife she had stolen from the cooks in Cloudsdale as some foalish approximation for a skysteel sword. ‘The Little Legionary’ they had called her then, and Cyclone’s century was always happy to have her with them. Despite her youth at the time, she was as well trained as some of the legionaries that she accompanied. Her father was Hurricane, Commander Maximus of Cirra, and her mother was Swift Spear, Imperator Primus of the Cirran Legion. She had never seen the heights of Stratopolis or the gates of Nimbus, and all she knew of the old Cirran Empire was what her father had told her. She was born in Cloudsdale, two years after Cyclone and three after the exodus, and had been trained from the first day she flew to become one of the Praetorian Guard. Those years of training had paid off, and she joined the Legion when she was sixteen. In only two years, she fought her way through numerous skirmishes and battles to climb into the ranks of the Praetorian, eventually being appointed Imperator Tertius with recommendations from her brother and the prestige attached to the legend that was her father. With Cyclone being Imperator Secundus of the Cirran Legion, he commanded it from the field, and Typhoon became his top officer. The siblings fought as a remarkable tandem, a perfect balance of Cyclone’s fiery aggression and Typhoon’s calm and patience. Now, however, Typhoon cantered through Amber Field by herself. Cyclone was busy leading a raid against a Crystal Pony encampment to the west, leaving his sister in charge of the town in his absence. In direct violation of Cirran protocol, however, she patrolled the streets alone. A company of legionaries attracted too much attention for her purposes, and despite her Praetorian’s armor and colorful mane of red, yellow, brown, and black hair, she would be able to get much closer by herself. Her target was never more than fifty feet in front of her, yet not once had he seen the elusive mare in his walk across the city. The streets were full of earth ponies and unicorns under the frosty sun, providing her ample cover to stalk her prey. They wandered past old storefronts and around crumpled corners until they finally entered the markets. Typhoon felt her wings twitch in anticipation as the pony she was following began to slow down and peruse the various stalls and vendors. The target in question was an earth pony stallion with a brown coat and matted black mane. He must have been near thirty, and his thick hooves struck the cobblestone with a heavy clop that made him easy enough to follow by sound alone. Typhoon did not need to listen to figure out where he was in the crowds, however. The stallion was perhaps the tallest pony she had ever seen in her life, a titan of over four feet from hoof to head. Adorning his flank was a horseshoe surrounded by three stars. To the nobility in River Rock, it would have looked like he was some kind of stunt actor or some other dazzling profession, but Typhoon knew it represented what a pony saw if his hooves struck their head... assuming the blow didn't kill them instantly. The behemoth had stopped at one of the fruit stalls and was idly browsing through its contents when he suddenly glanced over his shoulder. Typhoon’s heart jumped into her throat as she saw his eyes drift over her form from the corner of her vision, and she simply continued walking as if she didn’t notice him. After walking to another stall, she spared a quick look back to where the stallion was walking away. Seeing his tail swish lightly with his gait, Typhoon let out a sigh of relief and began to follow him again. If he had been aware that she was following him, he would have been much more tense and his steps a little too easy. Reading ponies was something that the pegasus mare excelled at, and no ponies were easier to read than the inhabitants of the Low Valleys. They were approaching an alleyway along the west end of the markets. Her heart pounding, Typhoon began to accelerate her pace and close on her target. Once he disappeared between the shadows of the buildings, he would essentially be lost from her. Being a Praetorian, she had the skill to take on five earth ponies by herself, but even her legendary rank would not be enough to help her there. If she had learned anything in her years of training, it was that you never fought against unicorns alone, and despite their aristocratic stereotyping, there were certainly several horns who had made the streets and gangs of Amber Field their home. The last time she had fought a pair of unicorns alone they had screwed with her internal compass, making her body think west was north for a week. She couldn’t fly straight the whole time. She was ten strides from the stallion, and he was five from the alleyway. Knowing that now would be her only chance at apprehending him, Typhoon popped the latch on her sword and spread her wings, ready to leap onto the brute’s neck and wrestle him to the ground. Her blood roared through her ears with anticipation of the fight, but instead of adrenaline and excitement, it seemed to carry an icy sedative. Imperator Typhoon was known for being calm in combat, even borderline statuesque, and that level-headedness made her as dangerous as her more reckless brother. One flap of her wings, and she was airborne. Another flap set her in motion towards her target. The stallion’s ears perked at the sound of feathers pushing through the air, and he began to look across his shoulder. Three flaps and Typhoon had halved the distance between them. Four… A ball of ice and snow slammed against her helmet, exploding into a hundred tiny pieces and bringing the startled Praetorian to the ground. Snarling, she jumped to her hooves in time to see the earth pony disappear into the alleyway. To her right, three children, two colts and a filly, were giggling in amusement at the pegasus’ clumsy fall to the earth. Staring daggers at the children, Typhoon reached deep into herself and summoned an icy burst of Empatha at their hooves, freezing them to the ground. Satisfied that the wailing brats would learn their lesson in the two hours it would take for their hooves to thaw, Typhoon ignored her better judgment and jumped to the rooftops to pursue her target from above. The stallion was quick, using his long legs to push himself to speeds difficult for even a pegasus to match on hoof. Typhoon’s hooves clopped against the slippery tiles of the rooftops as she followed him, shattering several as she leapt from building to building. She would have taken to the air and pursued him directly, but he was penetrating deeper and deeper into gang territory, and unicorns loved to take shots at legionaries flying over their turf. Despite the attention her target was raising in his scramble for safety, she could do much worse by taking wing. Although the brown earth pony was exceptionally gifted in strength and size, the same could not be said for his mind. Not bothering to consider whether Typhoon was following him from above, the stallion turned and twisted through sharp corners and narrow alleyways to lose the pony he assumed was chasing him on the ground. Instead, Typhoon bounded across the buildings, adding a flutter or two from her buff-colored wings to cross streets. Swift Spear was renowned for her quickness and agility, and those were certainly traits that Typhoon had inherited from her mother. Diving off the edge of one building, the Praetorian tucked her body into a tight roll and smashed through the window on the top floor of the house across the street. Streaking past a terrified unicorn mare and her foal, Typhoon broke through the window opposite from her entrance and fell onto the stallion’s neck below. The saying ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall’ assumes that the subject in question can be toppled. Typhoon found herself on the unfortunate end of the exception to that general rule of feather as she clung onto the brown stallion’s neck for dear life. She had fought manticores before and had grappled with the mane of one rather large specimen in particular, and to say that they were easy to take down would only be valid if compared with the pony she was currently trying to pin. The brutish earth pony was furiously jumping and bucking, and the small pegasus had already lost her breath as her armored chest slammed repeatedly against his spine. It was then that Typhoon wished that the Legion had adopted the idea of the spiked horseshoes that the Diamond Guard wore so she could cling onto the stallion’s hide. Slowly fighting her way up her target’s neck, Typhoon strained to reach the stallion’s forehead. The titanic pony was slamming his back against the sides of buildings to shake her off, and the Praetorian had to keep her wings tucked against her sides to avoid having them accidentally broken. Locking the earth pony into a stranglehold, Typhoon managed to set her hoof at the base of his skull and discharged her built-up emotion. The creation of such emotion allowed the pegasus to channel her Empatha into freezing the droplets of sweat and water along the pony’s neck, effectively numbing his spinal column and bringing him to the ground. It was a neat trick that Hurricane had taught her on one of their many father-daughter camping trips, although those ‘camping trips’ usually involved dispersing small groups of bandits from their campsites and back into the wilderness. Once his legs finally gave out from under him, the big stallion hit the ground with the grace of a crate of liquor being dropped from the streets of Cloudsdale. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Typhoon was afforded the opportunity to inhale as she slid off of the brown pony’s back. Shaking the cramps out of her legs and wings, she casually trotted over to where the earth pony’s head lay panting in the snow. “Big, strong, fast, but certainly not smart.” Crouching down in front of the lethargic pony, Typhoon leaned her magenta eyes closer to his brown irises. “You would have had a better chance running in a straight line. Now that we can finally speak, I’d like to get to know more about you. Or, more specifically, your employers.” The earth pony coughed and managed to raise his head off of the snow just enough to appear somewhat dignified. “I don’t talk to peggers… especially not little mares in big suits. Did your father get you that sword?” He started to laugh, but the feeling of sudden pain through his ear caused him to choke on his words. Typhoon withdrew her sword from the ground and shook the blood and remnants of ear-hair off its surface. “Actually, I made this weapon myself. Skysteel sword, the most dangerous kinds of weapons in Cirra. Forged it from a high-flying cirrostratus when I was thirteen. It makes a remarkable weapon if you ask me; incredibly lightweight and fast, and tends to freeze things it cuts through.” Sure enough, the trickle of blood that the stallion’s severed ear had spawned had already crystalized into dark crimson gems around his head. “And Commander Hurricane isn’t the topic of this discussion. Now, unless you would like to answer to him, I suggest that you talk.” The massive earth pony’s head shook vigorously, and Typhoon was convinced his bugging eyes were going to drop off of his terrified face. Smiling, she returned her frosty sword to its scabbard. “Good. Let’s start with the basics now. Give me your name, who you’re working for, and what you do.” The bulge in the stallion’s neck quivered as he swallowed. “Name’s Brown Oats, though most juss' call me Brown or Big Oats, it don’t really matter much—” The stallion grunted as Typhoon’s hoof brought him back on topic. “Right. Been on the streets for two year now, smugglin’ food for th’ gang. Lotta profit ta be made in th’ smugglin’ bidness, ‘specially in th’ winter months.” “You know what that food smuggling is a capital offense established by the Accords twenty years ago, correct?” Brown Oats’ head nodded nervously. Typhoon sighed and clicked her tongue in disappointment. “Then you know that all smugglers are supposed to be executed on sight, as per Imperator Cyclone’s directive. Now,” she wrapped her hooves around Brown Oats’ neck and pulled him into a lopsided sitting position, “you have luck going your way. For instance, I’m not my brother. If you want to cash in on those few extra chances that I’ve given you, then you’ll tell me who it is you work for, hm?” “He would, but he’d die if he so much as considered telling you.” Dropping the cumbersome earth pony in her grasp, Typhoon wheeled about and drew her sword in the same instant to confront the origin of the voice. Strutting out of the shadows was a blue unicorn stallion accompanied on each side by another horned bodyguard. His long horn pressed out of a crop of silvery hair that was cut short even by unicorn standards. His limbs were muscular, rivaling those of well-built earth pony farmhooves. A cuirass of sapphire and gold armor covered his chest and flanks, obscuring his cutie mark. Typhoon noted all this in the breadth of a second, but her eyes remained focused on the length of his horn. A deadly shade of blue aura covered the structure from base to tip, and the Praetorian knew he already had gathered mana for a spell. More ponies, unicorn and earth pony alike, emerged from the various alleyways and shadows surrounding the clearing that Typhoon stood in. The mare’s wings were flared and ready, and the sword gently rose and fell with her breath. She wasn’t going to get out of this one without losing a few feathers, but she planned to splinter as many horns as she could in the process. The unicorn stallion’s lips twitched in amusement as he approached. “Imperator Tertius Typhoon, fourth-highest ranked officer in the entire Cirran Legion. I would have thought you smart enough to remember where your boundaries lie, Praetorian. You don’t just intrude on Blue Coat territory whenever you feel like it.” Despite the unicorn’s obvious attempts to rile her up, Typhoon maintained her calm and stared at him coldly. “You’re one to talk, aren’t you? The Legion chased your kind off of the streets years ago, and now you hide in the shadows like so many rats from Cirran wrath.” Perking her ears, a slight smile came to her face. “You have no more than fifteen seconds to surrender before ponies begin to die.” Typhoon was sure she could see the unicorn’s face convulse with rage for a brief moment. “Typical of a pegasus, to think that you hold all the cards just because you’re good with the sword! We know what happened to your kind, Typhoon. You were beaten to the brink of extinction, and only because you fled with your tail between your legs did you have any hope of survival!” He leaned closer, and the sour smell of alcohol and grime made itself all the more present to the Praetorian. “The Legion thinks it owns this city, but they’re only on lease from us. When the time is right, we’re going to drive you feathered bastards back across the ocean from whence you came.” “I would be awfully disappointed if you didn’t try.” Typhoon grinned as the voice reached her ears from the rooftops. The blue unicorn stepped away from Typhoon and backed towards the rest of his soldiers, whose eyes were glued to the sky. There, clad in their legendary skysteel armor, were sixty legionaries, each with their weapons drawn. A red pegasus with a short black mane and tail stood on the highest rooftop, and the fire in his eyes was clearly visible under the gold and onyx armor of the Praetorian Guard. Adorning his helmet were strips of forged nimbus skysteel added for visual effect. From his lofty perch, Imperator Secundus Cyclone extended his intimidating command over the entire city block. “I told you that you had no more than fifteen seconds,” Typhoon whispered in the unicorn’s ear right before she slammed her helmet against his nose. The blue stallion released a surprised snarl as he stumbled backwards, discharging his mana in a powerful bolt of Arcana that pierced the sky. The slight offset of his rival figure was all it took for Cyclone to dive into the fray. Ignoring the twenty or thirty gang members surrounding their leader, he tackled the unicorn in a wreath of fire that caused the snow and ice to suddenly burst into steam as he passed. As the unicorns in the clearing struggled to channel their mana into spells to repel the pegasi, the legionaries descended on the earthbound ponies like hawks, outnumbering each three to one. Typhoon, like any good pegasus, didn’t waste time jumping into the action. Immediately after Cyclone had tackled the blue unicorn out of the way in his spectacular kamikaze, she slammed her wings against her sides to propel herself at the unicorn closest to her before his horn could even light. The poor creature shouted in alarm as Typhoon drilled her shoulder into his neck, spinning off of the impact to draw her bladed wing up and under his chin. A splatter of blood coated the wall behind him, and the unicorn was dead before he hit the ground. The unicorn next to the one Typhoon felled was much faster on the draw. Rather than trying to summon a time-consuming spell, the stallion drew a sword with his horn and pointed it at the pegasus mare. With a cold sigh, Typhoon prepared herself for the next fight. She always hated dueling with unicorn bandits, as their magical grip on their swords made them much harder to disarm and substantially more dexterous than a pony holding a weapon in their mouth. At least she had three blades and years of training to compensate for it, and her armed wings flexed in anticipation. The unicorn struck first, using his magic to jab his weapon at Typhoon from a distance. The sword travelled remarkably quickly through the air, and she had to spin to her side to dodge the lethal blade. Even then, she thought she heard the tinny sound of metal bouncing off of metal as it passed. Knowing that it would take time for her opponent to apply enough Arcana to reverse the direction of travel of his weapon and bring it back at her, Typhoon practically leapt on top of the yellow unicorn. Her skysteel sword flew in a rapid succession of strikes afforded it by its lightweight construction, and it was impossible for the unicorn to dodge all of them. The white blade traveled in a blur, and when the first drops of blood hit the ground the stallion had already been stabbed three times. “Fall back! Fall back to the sewers! Come on!” The gang leader’s voice echoed off the walls of the houses as he stood to the side of the battle, burnt and bloody. Only three of the original twenty-odd earth pony and unicorn gang members had survived the fight, and they too fled with their leader into the shadows between the buildings. The legionaries in the street shouted derogatory remarks about the purity of their blood as they ran, then turned back to their commanding officers. Cyclone limped over to where his sister stood and flicked several flakes of ash and snow off of his wings. “How is it that I always end up covered in your mess, Typhoon? This must be the third time this month.” If Cyclone could laugh, he would have, but in all her eighteen years Typhoon had never once seen her older brother honestly laugh. Instead, a slight loosening of his primary feathers and a smile that on anypony else would be considered a grimace told her that he was amused. Completely disregarding the formalities that the Praetorian was taught to always display, Typhoon playfully slapped a wing across Cyclone’s back. “Nopony’s making you get involved, Cy. I think you just enjoy it.” She laughed lightly, and Cyclone lazily nodded his head. “Maybe. I’m not letting you get hurt, at least not until you find a stallion and you don’t have to worry about scarring your pretty face anymore.” Typhoon’s face twisted into mock-rage, and she punched his foreleg. “Hey, watch it sis. The horn hit that leg up pretty good in our fight. Slippery bastard. He had great training, that’s for sure, and his armor took much of my Empatha when we hit. I think the two are related.” Seeing that his troops were watching them, Cyclone scowled and stomped his hoof against the ground. “Well, you know what to do! Standard procedure after a fight, identify the bodies and pile them for burial. You, you, and you, I want you three to see if you can find where those cowards fled to. The rest of you, get to work. Now!” Extending their wings in salute, the legionaries quickly dispersed with their assignments, allowing Cyclone and Typhoon to walk together, alone. They stopped at the body of one of the blue unicorn’s personal bodyguards, and Typhoon removed the helmet to examine it. “Related, you say. What do you think of this?” She tossed the armor piece to Cyclone, who set it down to examine it. “Sapphire and gold armor. Even for unicorn merchants, that’s incredibly expensive. Either these unicorns stole it from somewhere, or they got it off of a Diamond Guard. I’d say the former, because no matter how bad the horns’ military is, there’s no way that they’d get bested by a bunch of two-bit street thugs.” “But you said the two were related, though. I’m assuming you mean that wherever they got their military training from was also where they got their armor?” “Yeah. I’d rather it not be that possibility, ‘cause then we’re looking at some serious political ramifications. Diamond Guards don’t just renounce their positions to join street gangs. Appointment to King Lapis’ personal military is strictly hereditary, almost like its own nobility in a sense. You don’t just leave that, unless you were told to.” Typhoon stripped the cuirass off of the dead equine’s head and looked inside it. “Dispelled for poor behavior, or something else?” “Something else, obviously. The fucking Diamond Guard isn’t worth its weight in the damn gemstones it’s named after, and its officers could care less about insubordination. If they would actually tighten up their discipline like the Legion, we wouldn’t have to be saving their sorry horns every time a sizeable barbarian force attacks River Rock.” “Whatever it is, I’d say these guys came from the guard recently. Let me ask you this, how many suits of armor does the Diamond Guard have with skysteel in them?” “Let me see that.” Completely abandoning the helmet he was observing, Cyclone grabbed the cuirass between his hooves and flipped it over. Sure enough, under an additional layering of sapphire gems, there was a thick piece of cumulus skysteel embedded in the bulk of the armor. A few shattered gems on the helmet uncovered more of the metal. “That explains why that horn was able to absorb my Empatha so damn well,” Cyclone muttered. “Cumulus skysteel is the best material at absorbing Empatha. How the hell these unicorns got their hooves on it I’ll never know. We only sent the Diamond Kingdom one shipment of steel the entire year, and most of the cumulus was supposed to go to Star Swirl for academic purposes. Damn it.” Despite his apparently calm intonation, a few sparks of stray Empatha sprung from his wings in anger. “Perhaps we should go talk to Aunt Twister about this?” Typhoon offered. Twister was Hurricane’s sister and Cirra’s Legatus Primus, the chief diplomat for the pegasus nation with the other two tribes. She had lived through the Red Cloud War in Dioda and had spent her entire two decades in the tribal lands as Legatus. The mare was at least respected by the Low Valleys and the Kingdom, if hardly universally liked. Cyclone shook the soot out of his feathers again and nodded. “I suppose it’s at least worth some discussion. I was due to talk to her about the results from the raid anyways. Is she still in Cloudsdale?” “Yeah, she hasn’t left for tomorrow’s summit meeting yet. Typical of her.” The two siblings shared knowing smiles, even though only one of them was actually smiling. “Right. My centurion can take it from here. We should have a favorable tailwind at least, if there’s to be any benefit to this winter weather.” “Good. I would enjoy the winds around here more if they weren’t so damn cold. There’s not a single thermal to be found in the winter. At least Cloudsdale always has some good air.” “Heh. It’s been too long since I last visited. Been stuck garrisoning this pathetic town or out in the field for months. It’ll be good to get back.” Taking a few short gallops, Cyclone launched his armored figure into the air with his powerful red wings. “That it will,” Typhoon said to herself as she followed in his wake, letting the spiraling currents of air off her brother’s wings toss aside the falling snow before the flakes entered her eyes. ----- Cloudsdale. The home of all pegasi. That was the popular moniker affixed to the floating city by the earthbound unicorns and earth ponies, but to the Cirrans who lived there it was an egregious insult to their history. Although the more conscientious and thoughtful unicorn scholars gave it names such as ‘the City of Warriors’ or ‘the crown of pegasus might,’ the Cirrans themselves knew it by a much less flattering title: the City of Survivors. When the pegasi first arrived from Dioda, Cloudsdale was nothing more than massive puffs of cumulus cloud in the sky. With over three years of hard work, however, a sprawling metropolis had been formed quite literally from thin air, filling several cubic miles of sky. Millions of tons of cumulus had been compressed into cloudstone, the weatherproof material that all pegasus buildings were constructed from. When the plans for the first three years were finished, Cloudsdale could support three hundred-thousand pegasi. That number only continued to grow exponentially as more and more buildings and residences were constructed and attached to the white city. The Cirran architecture from Dioda had been seamlessly carried over to the new city, and massive white columns supported solid roofs over spiraling stratocumulus foundations throughout the city. The Commander’s palace in which the functions of Cirran government resided was almost a complete recreation of the Emperor’s palace in that forgotten capital Stratopolis that lay in ruins across the ocean. Somehow, the designs for that building had escaped the Gryphon rage that had destroyed nearly everything else, and they had found use in new lands. Typhoon found herself staring out one of the windows of the palace over the city below as Cyclone reported his findings to Legatus Twister. Twister was a light brown mare of thirty-six years with a long but neatly-styled black mane and tail. She was Hurricane’s younger sister by four years and seemed to carry enough enthusiasm between the two of them to make up for her brother’s traditionally stoic outlook on life. That wasn’t to say that she was wild or excitable as her windy cutie mark seemed to allude at, but within her golden irises there was a spark of energy that made her seem twenty years younger than she actually was. “…they fled shortly thereafter. I sent some of my scouts to find out where they ran to, but at this point it’s unlikely we’re going to find them without more soldiers—and casualties.” Cyclone had taken off his helmet and was resting a hoof on its side as he spoke to his aunt, gently rocking the onyx piece back and forth from where it lay. Outside of his official Praetorian garb, the red pegasus seemed considerably less severe to Typhoon, but his scowl would still light a fire if the wood happened to cross him. “Unfortunate. The more of those criminals we put to the blade or under lock and key, the better for the tribes and the easier my life will be. Chancellor Puddinghead called this meeting among the tribes tomorrow in large part to discuss your policies, nephew. The more news I have to tell the other representatives that they’re working, the better.” Looking over her scribbled notes, Twister picked up the unicorn helm that Cyclone had brought with them. “And about this armor…” Cyclone nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes. Typhoon found that it incorporates skysteel into its construction, specifically cumulus steel. These materials are one of the secrets of the Legion, and I would like to know how they got into not only the hooves of the Diamond Guard, but those of common street thugs.” Twister examined the helmet and procured a length of iron from one of the drawers at her desk. Sticking it into the inside of the helm, she lodged it under the edge of the skysteel and pressed down on it. After a few frustrated attempts, the piece of metal broke free of the interior and clattered noisily onto the table. Balancing it on her hoof, the brown mare brought it towards her eyes. “Hmm. That’s definitely cumulus. A very fine specimen, too.” Released from her hooves, the metal unnaturally bounced several times on the surface of the desk as it hit the wood before settling down. Looking back at Cyclone, Twister waved off the rest of the helmet. “I can tell you a few things about this. I’m no blacksmith, but that helmet was retrofitted to hold the skysteel. The quality is something that our smiths haven’t been able to produce until the last half-year, so whoever made this got it from our last shipment. Strange, I thought that the cumulus skysteel request went directly to Star Swirl. At any rate, we didn’t send out more than thirty pounds of the stuff.” Cyclone nodded and took the helmet back. “Thank you, Twister. I’ll pass this along to military intelligence and see if they can find out anything more about it. You will mention this incident to the other representatives tomorrow, yes?” “When the opportunity presents itself, I will, Cyclone. I’m sure Typhoon’s adventures today will be the cause for heated discussion.” Typhoon dipped her head in embarrassment, while Cyclone only seemed to ignore the remark. “Good. I’d better be going then and see if I can follow up on this. Good day.” He flared his wings in a quick salute before turning to leave, but Twister stopped him with her voice. “Perhaps you would like to pass that along to Star Swirl? I’m sure he could tell you about the armor.” The Imperator’s eyes glared over his shoulder for a moment before he continued walking again. “There’s no need to get the horns involved in this. For all I know, they could be the ones behind it.” The doors mercilessly slammed shut as he left, causing Typhoon to flinch. Twister watched the seam of the doors for a forlorn second before shaking her head in disappointment. “Your brother is certainly a fun one to hang out with, Typhoon. He’s the spitting image of the old Praetorian Guard back in Dioda. I just wish he’d come to respect the other tribes for what they do. He doesn’t have to like them, I just ask that he’d respect the earth ponies for their food and respect the unicorns for the sun and moon.” The last statement caused Typhoon to raise a skeptical eyebrow. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you? About the unicorns raising the sun and moon?” Twister shook her head. “No, but it doesn’t matter what I think, it’s understanding what they want us to think. The earth ponies were foalish enough to fall for it, and they expect us to believe it as well. Regardless, it’s easier to do business with them if you just ‘accept’ it and move on. Their real importance to Cirra is their trade. We’d never survive without half of the supplies their craftsponies and artisans manufacture for us. As for your brother, just make sure he doesn’t grow a red tail.” Typhoon winced as she heard the Cirran insult be applied to her brother. ‘To grow a red tail’ became popular pegasus jargon for any pony that let overt ambition drive their life after the infamous Legate Red Tail assumed power in the middle of the Red Cloud War twenty years ago. The young mare preferred to stay away from that part of history and the gory process that had ultimately caused Hurricane to have to come to power. “While I can understand your concern, Aunt, I assure you that Cyclone has nothing but Cirra’s best interests at heart. He would never do anything like that, because it would require him to weaken the Legion. And nothing is more important to him than his Legion.” “That's assuring, and I trust your judgment over mine. You know him better than anypony else does, I daresay even better than your mother. Regardless, your brother is not the point of this argument. Now,” Twister sat down in her chair and looked over the report Cyclone had given her, “you were pursuing this ‘Brown Oats’ pony on suspicion that he was a smuggler. In the process, you froze three young ponies’ hooves to the ground. Tell me, was that really necessary?” Typhoon bit her lip but refrained from lowering her head in submission. “No, Twister, but they had interfered with my pursuit of the smuggler. That they provided him the opportunity to get away was the reason that Cyclone’s company ultimately had to become involved. Twenty-six ponies died, and four of them were legionaries. Frankly, my little lesson was the least punishment they should have expected to receive.” Twister sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Representative Smart Cookie’s going to have a fit about this. Honestly, Typhoon, I would have expected such actions from your brother.” “Cyclone would have lit them on fire.” “I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that, for his sake.” The Legatus placed a hoof on her forehead and sighed. “Very well, so you felt justified in your actions. I’ll try to explain that tomorrow. What about this ‘Brown Oats’ fellow, is he in stable condition to talk?” “He was secured by the Legion after the fight, and he was supposed to be taken in for questioning. The unicorn gang leader, though, said that if he talked it would kill him.” Typhoon rubbed a hoof against the back of her neck in thought. “I don’t know if he spoke the truth, but he was a powerful mage. I doubt he would lack the skill to create some sort of enchantment that would kill Brown Oats before he said his name.” Twister scratched a few lines down on her parchment and nodded. “I’m not sure I would use ‘enchantment’, but I suppose you’re right. I trust that either you or your brother will be present whenever he is fit for questioning?” “Of course. I plan on supervising the process once he’s healed. Cyclone’s Empatha fireball burnt his flesh pretty bad when he descended.” “Shame. Well, keep me informed how that goes. I would like to have something concrete to build upon when I discuss this with the other tribes.” Writing a few words on an envelope, Twister rolled up a scroll and bound it. “Now, is there anything else you would like to discuss?” Typhoon thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Not at the moment. You will tell me how it goes tomorrow, right?” Twister smiled and stepped out from behind her desk to rest a wing over Typhoon’s shoulders. “Of course, Typhoon. You just take care, alright? I always worry about you and your brother whenever you go on deployments. The world’s a dangerous place, and the pegasi, Praetorians especially, are universally disliked by the other tribes. Be careful who you trust.” Typhoon briefly leaned into the embrace before separating again. “Right. I’ll take your word for it, Aunt.” “Please don’t call me Aunt. It makes me feel old.” Twister’s lips twitched into a smile as she set her youthful eyes on the city outside the window. “I’m only thirty-six. You can call me Aunt when my hair starts falling out and I’m too weak to fly.” “Right.” Typhoon chuckled and shook her head. “Thanks for the time, Twister. It’s always good to speak with you.” “Bah, you’re the only family of Thunder Gale’s blood that I talk to these days anyway. Your father’s too busy running the whole nation and Cyclone’s usually off playing his war games in the field. Hell, my own foals spend more time with their father than they do with me.” “It’s not your fault, you’re just busy. Maybe after tomorrow’s summit you’ll have some time to spend with them, eh?” Typhoon offered helpfully. Twister simply raised the corners of her lips into a smile as she waved her off and went back to sorting through paperwork. Taking her cue to leave, Typhoon respectfully nodded her head to her aunt and left the office, carefully shutting the doors behind her. Picking a few splinters out of her fetlocks, the Imperator began to mutter to herself about how the Legion needed to fortify all the doors Cyclone used on a regular basis. Closing doors gently was one of the many manners he had never learned as a child, and the cost of replacing them was one of the most frequent deductions from his Imperator’s pay. As she walked out of the palace and down the stairs to the streets below, the strong winds forced her to tighten down her saddlebags and helmet as she descended. Several ice crystals embedded themselves in her coat, threatening to flash-freeze her flesh were it not for the protection of her natural Empatha. Instead, they were simply a nuisance, a minor inconvenience of the winter months. “Damn wind,” was all she said on the subject, and thought about it no more. > Chapter 3: Cursed Snow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 3: Cursed Snow “Wait, that Typhoon guy was actually a mare?” Rainbow Dash’s brows creased in thought. “And not only that, but she was also Hurricane’s daughter? I didn’t know that Hurricane had children.” Twilight set aside her emptied bowl of soup with her magic and relaxed in her chair. “Of course Hurricane had children, but I had never known Typhoon to be related to him. The only child of his I had ever heard of was Princess Platinum III, known as the Warrior Princess. Early Equestrian history is very murky, so we don't know what's really true or not, but the stories say that she was the offspring of Hurricane and Princess Platinum the First. I’m close to labeling that information as false, though. From what I’ve read in his journals, Hurricane and Swift Spear had a really steady relationship, so it makes sense that if any pony was Hurricane’s child it would be Typhoon. And on top of that, Hurricane and Platinum really didn't like each other. The Warrior Princess' story is likely the tale of some popular unicorn noble who believed he was related to her and wanted to throw in a few extra bits of worth to his heritage. Still, we don't know enough to disprove it.” “What about Cyclone? Didn’t Typhoon say a bunch of times that he was her older brother? How come I’ve never heard of him?” Rainbow flinched at a tug of cold air that pulled on her mane from the surface, and she glared at the open door. “That’s the funny thing. I’ve never—and when I say never, I mean never—seen anything talking about him or his role. It sounds like he had a fairly important role in Cirra’s Legion, but for him to be absolutely forgotten leaves much to the imagination. This is the first Cirran text I’ve seen referencing his existence, and if anypony should have information on him, it would be the Cirrans.” She grumbled like she was prone to do when a mystery escaped her ability to solve it, and instead she turned to the book for answers. “Regardless, whatever other information there might be about him would be in here.” Rainbow had gotten up and was intently examining the mechanisms for the door. After a few puzzling seconds, the pegasus found the latch and promptly tugged on it. With the grinding of polished stone sliding across smooth tracks, the doors closed again, effectively blocking off the pestilent cold air that kept drifting in from outside. “Then let’s get back to it. I want to learn more about Typhoon. She seems like a pretty cool mare.” As Rainbow Dash returned to her seat, Twilight noted the similarities between her friend and the description of the long-dead Praetorian. The same kind of colorful mane and tail, magenta eyes, even the similar construction of their cutie marks—at least from what she had read. She briefly considered mentioning this to Rainbow, but ultimately decided against it. The last thing she needed to do was build connections where there were none. “Right then. Well, we’ve got plenty of time, and now that you’ve closed the door we shouldn’t have any more drafts in here.” She was happy that Rainbow hadn’t seemed to have lost interest in reading yet, although she dared not say that to the athletic pegasus. “I recognize this date. The Twentieth of Bare Trees, Four Hundred and Twenty-One After Empire. The day the Windigo curse began in earnest.” ----- There was always something about the skyforges that Commander Hurricane found calming. Maybe it was the rush of hot steam and soot past his feathers, or the Empatha-fueled chill condensers, whose blasts of cold air froze the sweat on his down to provide icy relief. Or perhaps, simplest of all, the forge was the only place where the other pegasi saw him as an equal, not a superior. Grabbing a pair of tongs from the fireside, Hurricane reached into the pit of bluish Empatha fire that the skysteel was roasting in. Heated skysteel was notoriously difficult to handle, as the pegasus Empatha still hadn’t crystalized the water vapor into its rigid form and the material was very slippery. Dragging the glowing piece of skysteel out of the fire, Hurricane quickly threw it on an anvil and grabbed his hammer. Shaping skysteel was almost as hard as handling the stuff, and a smith never had more than a few seconds to mold the metal before it would begin to diffuse back into its original cloud form. Giving three swift blows along the length of the steel, Hurricane began to flatten out the edge of a blade for the sword he was making. Seeing the vapor trails leaving the orange surface, he pulled a thick iron box next to him with his rear leg and transferred the weapon blade into it. Working with skysteel was, for the most part, alternated cycles of heating and cooling, providing barely enough time to shape the metal in between. Focusing his energy on the condenser, Hurricane supplied the Empatha necessary to chill the blade and help solidify its form. After cooling the metal for ten seconds, he opened the condenser and withdrew the steel. The metal was considerably closer in semblance to a sword than it had been before, but the balance still wasn’t quite right and the blade was nowhere near sharp enough for his liking. Turning back to the blue Empatha fire, Hurricane plunged the blade in again and let it heat. Out of the corner of his eyes, the stallion saw a pale brown figure round the corner of the building adjacent to the skyforge and walk closer to him. Knowing that the sword would require some time to heat back up to the level where he could work on it again, Hurricane took a rag from his workbench and rubbed the soot off of his face before turning to face the new arrival. “Busy as ever, I see. Is the soot you trying to appeal to the Low Valleys, or…?” the mare’s voice trailed off into a friendly smile, and the two pegasi met in a loving embrace. Hurricane laughed softly and shook his head as they separated. “No, Swift, that’s just me working. Cyclone’s got my blood pressure through the roof, and I need some way to expend my excess energy. Besides, I’ve had that piece of storm cloud hanging out in the workshop for long enough, so I figured I’d finally put it to use.” Swift Spear ran a hoof through her short, brown mane and looked over Hurricane’s shoulder to where the skysteel was glowing a brilliant orange. “About time. You got that cloud from the last hurricane to pass through here—what was it, three months back? At least you’re finally doing something with it rather than just letting it take up space.” “Heh. That wasn’t just any cloud, that was from the eyewall. That took a lot of effort to drag that one back without getting ripped to shreds in the process. Fun.” Hurricane slowly walked back to the forge with his wife by his side and began to work on shaping the metal again. “Yes, fun. You disappeared for five minutes in there! I thought the storm had torn you to pieces!” She sighed, then laughed. “I should have known that you’d be able to tame your namesake at least.” “And now I’m going to have a new sword from it.” Satisfied with the final shape of his sword, Hurricane put it in the condenser and redirected his Empatha from the blue fire to the iron box. Forging skysteel required excessive use of Empatha, and since that magic consumed emotions, it was a good way to cool off after a stressful day. Swift watched her husband’s work with genuine interest. “What happened to your cumulonimbus sword? I thought you liked that one.” “I did. The lightning and fire charges in it did wonders on the front line. But it wasn’t my own creation. The blacksmiths made it for me twelve years ago, and the skysteel smithing process has changed considerably since then. I figured it was time to get a new one, and I might as well put some of my personality into it.” Giving the condenser a light tap, Hurricane cracked his neck and looked towards the gray winter skies. “Nopony’s ever made a sword out of the center of a hurricane before, but that was a strong cloud that I wrestled out of it. I think my Empatha suits it.” Skysteel was an art of many intricacies, and matching a wielder's Empatha with their sword was almost as essential to its creation as shaping the steel itself. Since the production of the metal required an intensive investment of the smith’s Empatha, the weapons made from it tended to be more particularly attuned towards their creator and their preferred magic. Imperator Typhoon’s cirrostratus sword and its icy charge worked much better for her, for example, than Imperator Cyclone’s cumulostratus and the fiery slashes it produced ever would, were she to wield it. Swift Spear maneuvered herself around Hurricane and kissed his cheek. “That’s good to hear. Would you like to spar, then, and test it out?” Pushing off the lid to the condenser, Hurricane withdrew his sword and held it up to the light. The blade was a cloudy mix of white and gray steel with intricate etchings running the length of the metal. Directing his emotions into the blade, the Commander felt out the character of his new sword. It was very light but incredibly strong, and he could feel the resonance of fire, ice, and lightning charges in the metal, courtesy of the unique composition of the eyewall cloud. That there were three charges in the weapon excited Hurricane, as most skysteel weapons could only carry one or two. “Yeah, I could use some friendly competition. That is, as long as you don’t want to get beaten too badly.” Before he could even laugh, Swift already had his neck in the grip of her headlock. “Please, Cane, wait until we take it to the field.” Releasing his neck, she began to walk towards the sparring grounds. Hurricane chuckled to himself and grabbed his new sword, holding it in his mouth as he walked to test the weight. Side by side, the two pegasi leisurely trotted around the grounds that the palace was built on top of on their way to the sparring arena. The palace, much like the building it was based off of in Stratopolis, rested on a section of cloud considerably higher than the rest of the city, giving it a commanding view of everything that transpired within its borders. Thousands of pure white buildings lined streets that stretched outwards from the palace in every direction like the spokes on a wagon wheel, cascading in a seemingly random pattern of two and three story buildings right up to the city walls. The positioning of the city itself was along the border of the northern edge of the mountains that surrounded the Diamond Kingdom and the plains that stretched to the southwest towards Amber Field and the Low Valleys. Being situated on the boundary of two distinctly different topographical environments gave the city strong winds to anchor it in place as well as the raw material needed for the skysteel that Cloudsdale used as its primary export. Cumulus clouds were often trapped against the sides of the mountains, providing ample foundation for the cloudstone mortar that the pegasi used to construct their buildings, while the stronger clouds of all types, especially nimbus and cumulonimbus, were prevalent enough to supply the whole Legion’s need for skysteel. Other than the ornamental or structural skysteel that the pegasi forged for export, there wasn’t much else that the floating city produced for the other tribes save a vigilant and impressive military that not even the earth pony and unicorn nations united could muster. An entire wing of the city had been dedicated to housing and training the thousands and thousands of legionaries in Cirra’s military, and this section had been symbolically placed in the east, the direction of the lost homeland. Here Hurricane stopped to watch the dim sun rising through the gray skies, shedding its feeble light over the countryside below. That ever-powerful longing in his heart returned as he watched it, wondering what had become of the beloved land he had once called home. It was morning in Cloudsdale, but thousands of miles to the east it was surely close to noon. Did the sun even rise there anymore, now that its equines had been driven off by the barbaric hybrids? Did the griffon emperor Magnus revel in his final victory at Stratopolis, or was he still there, seething in demonic rage that his enemy had escaped extinction, and planning to find them and wipe the pegasi out once and for all? Swift Spear saw Hurricane’s distraught expression, and she calmly rested a wing across his back. “It’s okay, Hurricane. They won’t find us, and I doubt the average griffon cares much about whether we survived or not and where we are. Magnus may despise us, and he may spend the rest of his life dreaming about our destruction, but he’s only one griffon. As skilled or as powerful as he may seem, without an army that’s willing to follow his every command, he can’t bring us to our knees.” Hurricane sighed and looked at the sword he had set on the cloud by his hooves. “I don’t know, Swift, I just don’t know. I see everything that we’ve accomplished since we came here, and I wonder if it could have helped defend the Empire had we known about it then. Skysteel, Empatha, everything that’s a regular part of the Legion now; would it have saved Stratopolis or Nimbus? Would the Empire still be here today otherwise?” “Hurricane, if you keep thinking like this, you’re going to drive yourself insane. Yes, it was very unfortunate that our smiths didn’t discover skysteel until after we had fled, or that we didn’t understand the power behind Empatha in time to turn the tide of the war. The Senate was so sure of their power and so afraid of change that they didn’t let our smiths and our soldiers experiment like you have. But you can’t dwell on it. Think about everypony who died for us, and let’s honor their sacrifice by living our remaining years to the fullest, not mourning their loss. Come now,” she placed a hoof under Hurricane’s chin and angled his head towards her own, “Silver wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this.” It took great effort for Hurricane to hold his tears back, and that effort was transformed into freezing the cloud beneath his hooves into ice. “You’re right. I just wish I could see it all one last time. I want to know how he died, and what has become of our lands. To visit the ruins of Zephyrus one last time…” His voice betrayed him, and he coughed to shake the emotion away. “But it won’t be so. It’ll never be. Perhaps it’s for the best that we avoid opening old wounds.” Turning away from the rising sun, Hurricane continued his walk towards the training field. There was nothing Swift Spear could do or say to comfort her husband, so instead she simply walked by his side. She knew the sparring would be good for him, as it always was. It provided one of the only outlets for the Empatha Hurricane stored within his collected atmosphere, and with the lack of Crystal Pony activity as of late, he needed that release more than ever. Skysteel forging was good for clearing the mind, but actual combat, attuned to the very nature of the pegasus soul, was the best remedy for clearing the heart as well. The sparring field was a wide stretch of flat cloudstone covered with a springy layer of cumulus that was similar in texture to the grass on the fields below. Situated directly behind the palace itself, the grounds were also home to the training regimen of the Praetorian Guard, as well as numerous festivities for any popular occasion. Now, however, it played host to only two pegasi in the chill of the early morning. Swift separated briefly from Hurricane’s side to trot towards the weapon rack where her personal armament was carried. There were swords of all colors and sizes lined neatly along the rack, but there was only one weapon that truly interested her. It was a long spear, with a nimbostratus spearhead and a body of pure nimbus skysteel. True to her name, it was her weapon of choice, and the body was curved slightly to improve her grip on the weapon and allow it to cut through the air faster. Hurricane had already taken his spot adjacent to the centerline and was feeling out the balance of his sword in controlled swings and lunges. Satisfied that he had a basic level of familiarity with his new weapon, he turned his eyes to where Swift was watching him. With a smile, the manila mare fluttered to her spot across from Hurricane and planted the base of her spear in the ground. “Better watch out, Swift. The new sword feels even better than the old one,” Hurricane quipped, beginning their usual pre-sparring friendly bantering. The blade moved up and down in his jaws as he spoke the words, and he could feel the incredible weightlessness of the solid weapon. Swift smiled but was otherwise unimpressed. “You said that when you got your first skysteel sword twelve years ago. It didn’t seem to make a difference then, and I don’t think it would make a difference now. You’re still behind, you know.” Hurricane’s response was an inaudible grumble as he thought back to the scores they kept for their ‘friendly’ competitions. There was only one mare, one pegasus even, that could keep pace with him in combat, and she was standing directly across from him. The last few rounds they sparred she had come out on top, and Swift’s lead on the mental scoreboard was slowly gnawing on him. “Not my fault. I’ve been having back problems the past few weeks. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.” “And you think that I’ll buy that excuse? You do realize that most emperors didn't ascend until they were forty-four. You’re only forty!” The mare, who was thirty-nine herself, stuck out her tongue and teased her husband from across the centerline. “I’m still replacing that damn mattress anyways,” Hurricane muttered before he suddenly blitzed across the centerline towards his wife. Despite Hurricane’s sudden attack, Swift Spear was nonetheless ready for it. Spinning her spear across her body, she caught the flat of Hurricane’s sword and repelled his advance, spinning under his airborne form to strike at his exposed chest with the end of her spear. Hurricane twisted out of it, using his hoof to slam on the spear and push it back into Swift’s face. The skysteel pole nicked her ear but didn’t cause any harm to the lithe mare. The two pegasi settled down on opposite sides of the centerline and stared each other down. They were only there a second before Swift lunged at Hurricane, spinning her spear loosely between her forelegs before finally clamping her jaws around the body of the weapon and jabbing it forward towards Hurricane’s midsection. There was no restraint behind the action, and the spear itself was not blunted in any way; if Hurricane failed to react, it would penetrate his unarmored body and most likely kill him. But that was how they usually practiced, with no holds barred, because they both knew the other was skilled enough to take it. Hurricane spun to the side to avoid the attack and slammed his sword against the spear as it passed. The action shook Swift’s weapon loose from her mouth, and she had to abandon her spear entirely to avoid the next attack from Hurricane’s sword. Jumping and ducking under the swinging blade, she crouched low and propelled herself straight into the black pegasus’ chest, knocking him over and affording herself the opportunity to retrieve her spear from where it lay in the ground. The mare slid across the turf, gripping her weapon between her forelegs just as Hurricane scrambled up from where he lay on the cushiony cloud. Seeing the stallion come sprinting towards her, Swift jumped onto her rear hooves and thrust her spear forward with all the force she could muster. Hurricane saw the spear coming at him, but it was too late for him to roll to the side. Instead, he leapt over the speeding point and Swift Spear entirely, quickly pivoting on his hooves to try and tag her with his sword and claim victory. Swift was trying to reel her spear back in, swinging the weapon in a wide arc across her body as she tried to turn and face Hurricane. He knew that now was his best chance, so he dove forward with his sword held high above his head. Seeing the incoming attack, Swift transitioned her motion into holding the spear horizontally across her body to block it. Throwing her weight into the counter, she propelled her spear upwards to meet Hurricane’s descending sword and hopefully force him to rebound, providing an opportunity for her to attack. All she needed was a solid hit… There was a ringing smash as steel collided with steel, but it also brought forth an incredible snap and tingle as if a column of marble suddenly was broke in two. The two weapons had met with so much force that Swift’s spear shattered into splintered pieces of steel where Hurricane’s sword met it. Despite that, the sword was still travelling at a high rate of speed, and the stallion had to choke back on his weapon to turn it away from Swift’s neck. The blade missed her body by a hair’s width, and indeed did shave several short hairs from her shoulder as it passed. The skysteel hit the ground with a resounding crack, and the cloudstone underneath the cumulus turf fractured with the impact. Abandoning his weapon where it lay embedded in the turf, Hurricane rushed over to his wife. “Swift! Swift, are you okay?!” He wrapped his anxious wings around the lithe mare and examined her side. “Yeah! Yes, Hurricane, I’m fine.” Swift brushed off Hurricane’s hooves with shaking legs and looked at the shaved patch of her coat. “Cut it a little close there, huh?” Hurricane gave the mare another strong hug and kissed her neck. “I’m sorry, Swift. I didn’t think that the sword would be able to punch through your spear like that. I’m sorry…” Swift gave her worried husband a rough shove. “Hurricane, I said I’m fine! It’s my fault, really, I tried to block your strike when I should have dodged.” Laughing softly, she shook her head. “At least we know that your sword’s the strongest weapon I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of weapons in my life.” Hurricane released a sigh of relief and went to retrieve his sword. Throwing it into the scabbard by his side, he helped Swift Spear back towards the palace grounds. “So… does this mean I won?” Blue eyes rolled under a brown mane, and Swift flicked Hurricane’s head with her wing. “Thought so,” was all he said, carrying his smug expression with him. They were halfway back to the palace when a set of hooves clopped gently on the cloudstone path behind them. Hurricane originally intended to ignore the intrusion, but a familiar, diminutive voice gave him pause in his step. “Um, sir, I have news from the weather teams.” The voice belonged to a smallish pegasus stallion with a pale yellow coat and amber mane. He was adorned in legionary armor of an old make, dating back some twenty years to the Red Cloud War. Despite his diminutive size, he was easily thirty-seven years of age, and Hurricane recognized the pegasus immediately. “Pansy! How are you? The weather patrols been treating you okay?” Hurricane nodded with his head for the stallion to walk with them, to which the uncomfortable pegasus complied. “Y-yes sir, of course, sir. It’s been pretty good on the southern watch over Amber Field, you know, but—” “That’s good to hear. I’m glad I appointed you there. We haven’t had any serious problems with the weather for months. Do you like your posting, Pansy?” Legionary Pan Sea nodded his head in affirmation, too tense and shy to correct the Commander Maximus for slurring his name together like he usually did. “Good, good. Anything for a member of the Old Twenty-Third. Now, what were you saying? Something about the weather?” Despite the relatively friendly tone Hurricane reserved for communicating with Pan Sea, who was the last surviving member of Hurricane’s own century when they were both young legionaries in the Red Cloud War, the diminutive pegasus was nevertheless intimidated by his superior. It wasn’t Hurricane personally that frightened Pan Sea, although his title and the authority he carried with him did amplify the effect, but the legionary was genuinely uncomfortable around other equines. He had turned down several promotion opportunities solely to avoid having to accept the burden of commanding other troops, and as such he was the oldest milite in the entire Cirran Legion. That he was one of the few soldiers in the Legion who had actually fought in the Red Cloud War (brief as his service may have been) lent him a level of respect amongst the newer recruits who would otherwise have made life miserable for the poor creature. “Um, yes, sir, I just—” “And you don’t have to call me ‘sir’, Pansy. You’ve known me long enough that Hurricane or even just Commander will do.” Hurricane had transitioned his attention towards making sure that Swift Spear got up the steps towards the palace alright, to which the mare slapped her feathers against his nose for worrying over her. “Right, Commander. Anyways, the weather teams from River Rock report that a, um, disturbance has broken through their ranks.” “Broken through their ranks? It’s weather, not a flight of griffons. It’s not like Grabacr himself is leading a charge against them.” Grabacr, the Cirran god of the weather, was usually portrayed as a tall, white pegasus with wispy limbs spiraling the clouds to his liking. Quick to anger and slow to forgive, the god was often associated with sudden and immediate disaster, and he was one of the few that the Cirrans still made direct offerings to. The reference to one of the more powerful Cirran gods did little to calm Pan Sea, however. “Um, not really, sir, I mean, Hurricane, I mean, Commander, but they’re requesting reinforcements to try and contain the storm. They sounded like they wanted, er, the Praetorian” Hurricane rolled his eyes as he crested the top of the staircase. “Reinforcements? I know lightning storms can be dangerous, but that’s why I assigned the best weather teams to that sector. They should be able to handle an outbreak of rogue winds like that. Just how big is this storm, anyways?” A fierce wind tore at the cloud near Pan Sea’s hooves, and he nervously shuffled his limbs. “About… that big.” Hurricane took a frustrated breath and turned to address the legionary. “And what exactly do you mean by—?” The shrill winds stole the astonished words from his breath. ----- “I appreciate your concern, representative, but the Legion is justified in its actions! Or would you rather that we take our soldiers off of your streets and let loose the hell we’ve contained within downtown?” Legatus Twister’s golden eyes were fixed squarely on the face of Representative Smart Cookie of the Low Valleys. The orange earth pony sat flustered in his chair, loosely hanging onto his feathered hat with his forehooves on the table in front of him. His light brown mane was clearly exposed over a pair of angry green eyes, and the pleated collar of his brown governmental suit was ruffled slightly, no doubt in response to the tense events that were transpiring under the roof of the Amber Field courthouse. “I would rather that the Legion cease this needless bullying of our townspeople! Every day, our citizens are harassed and searched by this rampant and power hungry police force in its search for ‘criminals’. You may feel justified that your soldiers are doing the right thing, but to Amber Field, we’ve simply traded disorganized gangsters for an organized company of villains!” “For once, I would have to agree with Representative Smart Cookie, Legatus,” began the unicorn ambassador, Bright Sheen. “Legionary meddling has reached such a point in the Kingdom that last week there was a confrontation between the Diamond Guard and a detachment of pegasi directly outside of the castle!” Twister shifted her hard gaze from Smart Cookie to Bright Sheen and frowned. “Right, and the inability of your nation to keep your own soldiers in line is what worries me the most. The centurion in charge during that incident responded to harassment from several of your privates who were using their magic to interfere with their patrols. The brawl that resulted would have been avoided if your officers disciplined the enlisted and made sure that they left the Legion alone to perform its duty!” Bright Sheen set his white hoof on the round table and leered at Twister. “Twelve Diamond Guards were hurt in that brawl. Seven of them won’t be fit to return to service for three months, and another two are in critical condition! How do you explain that? Is it common practice for the Legion to beat hapless opponents into submission?!” “No, it’s common practice for the Legion to kill hapless opponents and drive their nation into submission. Insubordination such as your soldiers exhibited in that event is usual grounds for hanging in the Legion. That the legionaries involved didn’t kill any Diamond Guards, pathetic as they may be, leaves me to commend their actions, not condemn them.” Smart Cookie tapped his hoof against the table in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “Please, settle down! Legatus, despite how much you support this sort of unruly behavior, it has got to stop! Has it ever occurred to you how much the pegasi have become universally disliked in the past ten years? The gangs that you are trying to ‘protect’ us from have been offering aid to any earth pony or unicorn suffering from ‘police brutality’. If you recall, they tried this kind of scam fifteen years ago when there was little for them to go on. Now, unlike then, they’re making thousands of bits off of it! Ponies are scared of the Legion, and they trust the criminals that you try so hard to put down over the organization that is supposed to make them feel safe! Can you explain that?!” Twister tapped her hooves on the ceremonial headpiece she held before her as she thought. The design of her diplomatic garb was ironic, she thought, as she was the only member of Thunder Gale’s bloodline who had never wielded a sword in her life. Despite that, she wore an ornate cuirass of onyx and gold coated with wide plates of cumulus skysteel, complete with a short red robe that draped over her left shoulder. The look reminded her of what the Emperor used to wear back in Dioda. Perhaps that was the point. Military philosophy was never her thing, but here the Legatus felt herself drawing on it for her argument. “Cirra has always fought by the doctrine of strike hard and strike fast, and this is why. When we came here twenty years ago, we were weak, and so we eased what military units we had to spare into policing these lands over the more traditional approach of spending a week or a month driving out all the criminal scum we could find and make the cities inhospitable to them. The Blizzard Revolution of 387 AE or the Social War against Nimbus in 271 AE are perfect examples of how we quashed insurrection and crime within our cities. That we didn’t have the ability, or rather weren’t allowed to besiege these centers of crime initially is the reason why the situation has decayed to what it is now.” Bright Sheen’s hoof slammed the edge of the table as he stood up in anger. “You rattle off names and places we have never heard of in an attempt to soothe us, but really you only insult our governments and our people! You speak as if raiding a city with fire and steel to drive out crime is preferable to curbing and eradicating its growth over time simply because war is the only thing your accursed race knows! That does not excuse you from maintaining what your part of the Tri-Pony Compact demands that you do; establish order and promote peace! These past few days have proven exactly how much you fail to understand your task!” Twister had never understood exactly why Empatha works or how a pegasus uses it despite how often her brother had tried to enlighten her on the subject, but she could imagine herself burning away Bright Sheen’s pompously stylized mane and tail with a well-directed application of pegasus magic. But she had a job to do, and she couldn’t let herself get worked up over the unicorn’s superiority complex. “We have tried our best to maintain peace, but the spiraling of crime rates left us with no choice but to tighten down our patrol regimen and contain the gangs to the point where we could hopefully wipe them out with a single fell blow. Although, this practice is hard to pursue when we have to deal with problems such as a resistive populace and food shortages.” The last words were hissed through her teeth, and Twister’s golden irises threatened to rip Smart Cookie to shreds and use the remains of his coat as a rag to clean her feathers on. “You speak as if those are both problems caused by the way that the Low Valleys are governed, as if it is my fault and the fault of the Chancellor. Look to yourself, Legatus. The populace responds to how they are treated, and the staggering growth rate of the pegasus population has strained whatever reserves of food that we have for the winter months! Just what do your mares do up there, anyways?!” Smart Cookie’s appalled face was enough to bring a slight giggle to Twister’s lips. “Make up for the population we lost during the war twenty years ago, mostly. Our stallions are very compassionate.” Enjoying the disgusted looks from her two peers, Twister continued. “We once numbered fifteen million across the entirety of Dioda; maybe one day we’ll surpass that.” It took a second for Smart Cookie to get his thoughts in check, and even then he still stammered out his response. “Y-you’ll never be able to do so if we run out of food! Half of all the food we produce goes to Cirra alone, half! Last year we cut it dangerously thin with the supplies we had left by the end of winter. I doubt we’ll be able to pull through again, unless Cirra cuts back on its consumption!” “Pegasi have a faster metabolism than earth ponies or unicorns, so we need more food. Having an extra set of limbs requires an extra intake of calories.” Here, Twister opened her soft, brown wings and fluttered them gently for effect. “We already limit our consumption as best we can, which is as much as the earth ponies or unicorns eat in the summer months. Anything less and our feathers start to fall out.” “Then maybe you can try growing your own food, damn it!” Bright Sheen shouted. “The Diamond Kingdom supplements its intake of food with plant roots that we grow along the banks of the river, so I see no reason as to why Cirra can’t adopt the practice as well!” “We have tried, ambassador, but even then it is not enough. We have a few farmers who do the best they can on the silty fields under Cloudsdale, but most of our stallions prefer more honorable lines of work. Not only does the Legion need soldiers, but it needs smiths who can work the skysteel and engineers to expand the city. We simply don’t have the population to support farms on our own. If the Compact did not prohibit us from hunting, then we would not even be having this discussion!” Smart Cookie and Bright Sheen were both appalled. “How could you even think of doing something like that?! Ponies shouldn’t be eating cows or pigs! It’s just…wrong!” The orange earth pony stuck his tongue out in disgust, while Bright Sheen looked like he was going to vomit. “What? Surely you’ve heard tales of how Cirra used to get food back in Dioda. We aren’t as skilled of farmers as you earth ponies are, and meat was a readily available source, rich in protein and good for a developing legionary's muscles.” Seeing that her company was inches away from needing to put the meeting on recess and clearing their stomachs, Twister sighed and took a drink from the glass of water in front of her. “I don’t really see what the problem is. Cows aren’t even that smart.” The representative of the Low Valleys placed a hoof to his forehead. “They’re still living creatures. But enough! Why are we bickering about this? We’re supposed to be discussing reforms on our policies so that we can find some way to get through the winter without ripping each other to shreds!” Bright Sheen used his magic to levitate his drink to his lips. Setting it down, he gently touched the tips of his hooves together and leered over them at Twister. “I’m all for peace and compromise, but let me make this one thing clear. The Diamond Kingdom will not, and I repeat, will not tolerate any more of these kinds of confrontations between our two tribes. If another were to break out…” “Then what, Ambassador? Tell me! I would very much like to know what kind of threats I should be reporting back to the Commander when this meeting is over.” Twister saw the slightest shift of Bright Sheen’s eyes, but she knew that she had shown him Cirra’s cards. Regardless of what he thought of his own nation, the threat of pegasus military intervention was now plainly laid on the table. The unicorn’s throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously. “If we were to have another kind of confrontation between the Legion and the Diamond Guard, then the Kingdom will have no choice but to cease the export of manufactured goods to Cirra. We would also tariff skysteel and rainbow imports at thirty-three percent. You would be economically sanctioned, and Cirra would collapse without us.” Twister flicked her wings in annoyance and slouched back in her chair, forcing the congregation to wait on her response. She could tell Bright Sheen’s heart was pounding, even if he was doing a remarkably good job of keeping his features controlled. Smart Cookie, on the other hoof, was seconds away from having a panic attack. He felt like the peasant caught in the power struggle between two titans, which at this point wasn’t too far from the truth. He gnawed on the edge of his hat while he waited for the mare’s response, unsure of what she would say. With a short laugh and a slight curving of her lips, Twister leaned forward and gave Bright Sheen a pleasant smile to accompany her ultimatum. “War is always good for the economy.” Then she returned to her seat and decided to trace the intricate carvings in the ceiling with her eyes while she waited for the unicorn ambassador’s rebuttal. “Please, everypony just stop!” Smart Cookie burst out, slamming his hoof against the table. The action caused Bright Sheen to nearly jump out of his seat while Twister raised an interested eyebrow in the earth pony’s direction. Collecting his breath, he began to speak slowly and softly. “We have to stop this right now. This was supposed to be a meeting for peace, to rebuild unity amongst our tribes! Instead, we’re threatening each other and moving ever closer to the cliff! Once we’re over the edge, there’s no turning back!” Twister sighed and set her hooves down on the table in a business-like manner. “Under normal circumstances, I would be compelled to argue that the Representative’s metaphor is irrelevant to any creature with wings, but I agree. Despite how callous or warlike I may seem to you, friends, the last thing I want is for our tribes to get tangled in a bloody conflict, especially in the cold of winter when supplies are already low enough as it is. I am completely interested in developing some sort of compromise that will see us all through these next few months, but I must put the best interests of the pegasi first and foremost. We will scale back our involvement in Amber Field and River Rock if and only if our shipments of food and material continue to arrive in a timely and complete manner. If anything is deemed amiss with a shipment, say, two bushels of wheat are inexplicably missing or half of the lumber we ordered is rotten, we will not hesitate to intervene and complete the shipments ourselves. The pegasi are willing to play along, but like it or not, we are going to get what we need one way or another.” Bright Sheen and Smart Cookie both nodded, and Twister released a stressed breath of her own. “Good. Now that that’s over with, what else is there for us to discuss?” Smart Cookie pulled out a scroll from one of his pockets and opened it on the table. “Right. We do need to talk about restructuring the Cirran patrols in Amber Field—” “And River Rock,” Bright Sheen added. “Yes, and River Rock as well.” Smart Cookie continued. “We also need to discuss how we’re going to ration out the remaining food between our equines, as well as discussing the economics aspect of the winter shipments…” A massive gust of wind shook the courthouse to its very foundations. The windows howled with the force of the frigid air trying to break in, and the noise drew the heads of the three diplomats away from the table. “Blasted noise! What sort of storm is that?” Bright Sheen wondered aloud, turning in his chair to look out the window. Twister, being seated closest to the glass, had to turn completely around to catch a glimpse of the storm outside. When she did, her jaw dropped in alarm. “By the Gods… It’s as if Grabacr himself came down to curse us.” The skies were turned a horrible shade of gray, and clouds the size of mountains hurled their snow at the lands below. The winds tore their way through the countryside, ripping the roofs off of several poorly constructed buildings directly across from the courthouse. Hail clattered noisily against the windows, threatening to break the frigid glass under its ferocious assault. In only a few short minutes, nearly a foot of snow had accumulated outside of the courthouse window. Twister felt her feathers shake, and she flattened her wings against her sides for warmth. There was no better thermometer than a pegasus’ wings, and Twister’s told her that the air had dropped nearly twenty degrees in a matter of seconds. “Sun and Stars…” Bright Sheen muttered under his breath. “I’ve never seen a storm like that.” As if to accentuate his point, a demonic shrieking seemed to fill the valley, stretching far across the now frozen plains that surrounded Amber Field in every direction. “Then may Mobius cast his mercy over our skies,” Twister prayed. In the premature night, the only thing that answered her was an onslaught of snow and the howls of ethereal creatures high above the surface of the world. > Chapter 4: Heated Talks > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 4: Heated Talks Realizing that it would be foolish to remain in an underground crypt cut off from the rest of the world in the dead of the Stalliongradi winter, Rainbow Dash and Twilight gathered what books they could and retreated to the modest warmth of nearby Saraneighvo. Even that city, the most distant of the three on the landmass from the epicenter of the Windigo curse that continued to plague the ancient tribal lands, was viciously cold. With temperatures that were consistently twenty degrees below freezing in the wintertime, travelling the two miles from the buried ruins to the city on the frozen coast was a day’s journey. At least it was warmer than Stalliongrad’s fifty-below winters. Saraneighvo was old, and its weathered buildings and walls were more than happy to tell the story. The tallest of its structures at three or four stories were badly scarred by scorching dragon flame and blistering ice, and anything that exposed more than half its weight to the terrible winds listed heavily and threatened to collapse at any moment. But in comparison to the other two cities on the landmass, Stalliongrad and Trotsylvania, it was quite recently built. Rising structures of ornate design dating back a thousand years proclaimed the glory of the frozen city on the glaciated coast, but the impoverished inhabitants knew that the heralds spoke only lies. Whatever gold Saraneighvo had once seen was squandered within a few short years of its brief rise to power, and soon the jurisdiction of the city was once again swallowed by the oppressive weight of the capital to the south that the original settlers had tried to escape from. Many of the more sensible ponies retreated back to the nominal shelter the valley walls provided Stalliongrad, but the more stubborn carved out a hard life on the blustery shores where the winds frequently topped forty miles per hour. Stopping in at a local tavern (the only reasonably profitable profession in the frozen north, as what is a Stalliongradi without his vodka?), Twilight and Rainbow sat huddled by one of the many fireplaces struggling to repel the frigid air that seeped in through myriad cracks and separations. They each had a decent meal laid out in front of them, consisting of some sort of potato dish, if Twilight were to take a guess, and vodka in a modestly-sized mug ‘for the outsiders’, if her limited knowledge of Stalliongradi could decipher what the bartender muttered under his breath. Then again, her limited knowledge of Stalliongradi was based off of a further limited knowledge of the similar Draconic language, so her interpretation was likely too forgiving and polite. At the urging of the more friendly locals who happened to know the slightest bits of Equiish, Twilight was trying to finish the rest of her drink. Lured on by promises and encouragement that the alcohol would warm her blood against the frigid air when she would have to depart, she brought the mug to her lips again and took a sip. The smell was dreadful, and the taste wasn’t much better. If she could have gotten a tankard of piping hot cider, she would have had no problem finishing it off, but the vodka was too much for her. At least Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, seemed to be taking the strong alcoholic drink just fine. Letting out an unruly belch, Rainbow set down her mug and flared her wings to trap the heat of the fire between her feathers. The tavern was loud, but just soft enough that they could hear each other without having to worry about being overheard. Watching the embers spark and dance between sheets of orange and red, the blue pegasus spoke the first words that either of them had shared in at least half an hour. “So all this cold weather… it’s still caused by that Windigo curse from all that time ago?” Realizing she could do no more damage to the alcohol remaining in her mug, Twilight set the wooden tankard aside and assembled her arsenal of books before her. “Correct. The reconciliation of the three tribes stopped the spread of the curse, but it couldn’t break it. Their homeland was already too far lost to be recovered, and it sure hasn’t gotten any better in the years since. Racial hatred in Stalliongrad and its holdings is only marginally less than the near-riots that the tribes had to live through day after day with the onset of the curse.” Rainbow released a low whistle and sank further into her wooden chair. “Funny to think that ponies still live here despite this cold. I mean, I’m all for the winter coolness and everything, but even this is extreme.” Her wings were badly shaking despite the heat she was trying to soak into them, and Twilight had to feel sorry for her pegasus friend for a moment. Being able to always tell the temperature and magnetic north would certainly be useful abilities in flight, but grounded in the extreme cold, those natural instincts proved more annoying than anything else. “Give it a few more years, and maybe they won’t have to. I know that the son of the Tsar, Foresight, is trying to utilize the magic of the Crystal Empire to repel the cold winds that plague this land. I can’t imagine something of such a scale being completely pulled off, mind you, but the idea is interesting.” The unicorn relaxed and turned to look out the thin eastern window to where the frozen seas were beginning to succumb to the black of night. How many times did pegasus eyes watch that horizon, eight thousand years ago? Although she could certainly postulate the answer given census figures from the time, Twilight decided against it. There were better times to worry about such meaningless data, like when her brain wasn’t sloshing through what little alcohol she had consumed. Gathering up their belongings, Rainbow and Twilight retreated to the small room they had rented for their stay in Saraneighvo. Aside from two beds, a desk, and a cracked window looking over the sea and the icebergs that drifted by, it was absolutely bare and devoid of anything of value. Spreading out their notes and findings from the brief excursion into the depths of the mountains, the two Equestrians huddled around the pine desk as they prepared to delve deeper into the story. Flipping through the pages of the book, Twilight found the thin bookmark she had stuck between two when they left the crypt. “Here we are. This is about where the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant picks up. The Twenty-fourth of Bare Trees, Four Hundred and Twenty-One After Empire. The three tribes meet to discuss what must be done in the face of the wintry scourge.” ----- The storm overtook the Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys in little more than an hour, and the fierce winds threatened to rip Cloudsdale to pieces. By the end of the first day, nearly two feet of snow had accumulated. That number quickly climbed to four by the end of the second, and Amber Field ground to a halt as the inhabitants struggled to dig themselves out. River Rock was drowning in snowfall, with castle Burning Hearth the only structure to escape the suffocating white crystals with how it clung to the side of the valley. Cloudsdale was free from the worst of the snow, as it hovered several hundred feet above the storm clouds that dashed themselves to pieces against the adjacent mountain range. The temperature had taken a frightful plunge as well, dropping by forty degrees within minutes and continuing to decline at a slower rate over the next few days. The sudden appearance of subzero temperatures had flash-frozen whatever crops the earth ponies had grown as their winter supplement, and great care had to be taken to heat the granaries and protect the reserves they had left. With the snow so high that it was nearly impossible to walk, such a task was easier said than done. As such, the already tenuous balance the tribes had reached on dividing the food for the winter completely collapsed, resulting in a free-for-all for whatever crops remained. The earth ponies, being the producers of the food, hoarded all they had grown, while the unicorns and pegasi set about the rough business of acquiring their rations through force. The smaller outlying villages of the Low Valleys had been ransacked by marauding regiments of legionaries and companies of the Diamond Guard, and as the two militaries began to entangle in their search for food, bloodshed was a not too distant possibility on the snowy horizon. An emergency summit between the tribes was called for, but with the horrible weather it took three full days for the representatives from the Diamond Kingdom to claw their way out of the valley and over to the plains where Amber Field sat. Obviously not trusting the legionaries Hurricane provided for the meeting, several top officers from the Diamond Guard accompanied the diplomats and filled the interior of the courtroom with their diamond spears and halberds. Directly across from the unicorns stood the Praetorian’s two more infamous Imperators with their skysteel swords and wingblades. The two parties regarded each other with narrowed eyes, completely ignoring the miserable earth pony constables that Representative Smart Cookie symbolically appointed to watch over the Low Valleys gallery in response. The meeting was to take place in the parliamentary building of Amber Field, a rough structure of stone and thatch that was somehow well-built enough to withstand the frightening winds that sought only to scrape all traces of ponykind off the lands it roamed across. A single wide table was planted in the center of an open room, with three chairs arranged for the leaders who would in short time emerge from their respective doorways. The gallery above was rapidly filling with eager ponies ready to bear witness to this historical meeting, although they remained rigidly divided to their appropriate sides. Were it not for the warmth that their bodies generated, the different races might not have even sat in the same room as each other. Typhoon and Cyclone stood on either side of the doorway which their father was due to emerge from in a few minutes, their backs incredibly straight and their posture perfect in the absolute archetype of the disciplined legionary. Wings flared slightly to reveal the blades along their crests and eyes focused dead ahead, the two pegasi stared down their unicorn counterparts on the opposite end of the room. As mighty as the two Diamond Guards seemed to be with their massive halberds of diamond and amethyst, Typhoon could see their eyes darting across the room as they attempted to avoid eye contact with her and Cyclone. Were she not in control of herself, the mare would have laughed at them; Cyclone would not have needed such restraint in any case. “How much you want to bet I can get the big one to jump out of his armor?” Cyclone whispered across the doorway. Seeing the faintest hint of a grin form on his sister’s lips, the stallion slightly lowered his head and flexed his wings to catch the unicorn’s attention. As soon as he did, all it took was one small jump in the other’s direction to cause the gray unicorn to scramble backwards in fright. Typhoon’s muzzle crumpled in stifled laughter, and a predatory smile materialized on Cyclone’s face. The other Diamond Guard was preoccupied with helping his companion up from the floor, but as soon as they were both back on their hooves, Typhoon took the time to note that their halberds were lowered several degrees towards herself and her brother. “I see that you’re having fun making our unicorn friends feel comfortable,” whispered a voice from between the two siblings. Typhoon flinched at the sound of Swift Spear’s voice, but she dared not break discipline now to glance at her. Releasing a lighthearted breath, Swift shook her head and took the time to observe the full galleries above. “When your father enters, you two are relieved from your postings. There are a lot of big names gathered under one roof, so I’ll need your eyes to find trouble before it shows its face. The last thing we need is an assassination attempt when this is our only shot at brokering peace between our tribes.” Cyclone and Typhoon both gave imperceptible nods in response. “Good. I’ll be down here with Hurricane. If anything happens, don’t feel too bad if you have to trash the place to stop it. This building’s little more than earth pony stone and rubbish anyway.” Seeing a company of trumpeters moving to their positions, Swift gave a quick bob of her head and withdrew to the room where Hurricane sat ready and waiting. Representative Smart Cookie quickly stepped up to the platform in the center of parliament and adjusted his hat before coughing nervously into his hoof. Three groups of eyes—one friendly and two hostile—settled over his orange coat. At least his appearance silenced the muttering and bickering in the gallery above. “Fillies and gentlecolts!” Smart Cookie began. “The Low Valleys are ever so honored to welcome our distinguished guests from Cirra and the Diamond Kingdom to Amber Field. I trust that I am not the only pony who wishes for us to set aside our differences this day and come together in the name of peace and harmony.” There was mumbled discontent amongst the civilians, and the Representative bit his lip in worry. Regardless, it was still his duty to provide the other tribes their due welcome. “Well then, without further interruption, let us start by giving our fellow ponies a hearty reception. First and foremost, from Unicornia and the Diamond Kingdom, we welcome her highness, Princess Platinum, daughter of the good King Lapis!” There was a blast of trumpet fanfare, and the regal Princess Platinum strutted towards the table in all her glory. Her immaculate white coat and shiny purple mane were absolutely blinding, and a long, purple robe with white fur hemming trailed behind her as she walked. Her horn and the crown of silver and amethyst adorning it were pointed skyward, and how the self-obsessed unicorn saw where she was going was anypony’s guess. Her arrival raised a chorus of cheers and whistles from the unicorn section of the gallery, although the opposing pegasus faction hissed at her approach. When Platinum had taken her place at the long table and the muttering from above had quieted down, Smart Cookie gently tapped his hoof against the ground and braced himself for what he knew was coming next. “From the mountains of the north, we welcome the great Hurricane, master of the skies and Commander Maximus of mighty Cirra!” Fanfare again preceded Hurricane’s entrance, and Typhoon watched from the corner of her eyes as her father walked towards the table with a deliberately slow and authoritative gait. Wearing his onyx armor plated with void crystals that Star Swirl the Bearded had given him so many years ago, the black pegasus was dreadfully intimidating from under his helmet. His magenta irises slid across the room as he moved in perfect silence, with the exception of the creaking the scales on his bladed wings produced. Pausing by his seat at the table, Hurricane flared his wings to Platinum in the formality of a salute, although Typhoon could tell there was a layer of menace behind it meant for the mare across from him. After several failed attempts at calming the roaring pegasi that cheered on their leader below, Smart Cookie turned his expression into a silent plea to Hurricane to silence them. With one stomp of his bracer-shod hoof against the wooden floor, the gallery instantly quieted. The sudden transition from raucous noise to dead silence was extremely jarring for the Representative, and he nervously cleared his throat before continuing on with the introductions. “Last, but most certainly not least, we have our most generous host and steward of all of the Low Valleys, our very own Chancellor Puddinghead!” If anything, Hurricane would remember the Chancellor’s arrival as one of the most painful experiences of his life, even worse than having to climb the thousand steps of Stratopolis with a broken leg. There was nothing positive he could find about the earth pony leader. Puddinghead was slightly larger than the average earth pony and possessed a dirt colored coat with a slightly darker mane and tail. On top of that, however, was a hideous outfit of browns and yellows adorned with extensive frills and ruffles that no sensible pony would ever consider wearing. Hurricane wasn’t much for fashion, but he liked what looked sleek and efficient, like the plating of his armor. Platinum, on the other hoof, looked like she was about to keel over on the spot. Completing Puddinghead’s frightening attire was a wide hat that played into his namesake with a bowl of pudding balanced in the center. As the Chancellor bounced up to his spot at the table between Hurricane and Platinum, the earth ponies above him gave a half-hearted cheer. It was abundantly clear to all but Puddinghead that they only tolerated his chancellorship, as the primary functions of the Low Valleys were divided amongst a group of representatives, which Smart Cookie himself was part of. In reality, the young orange stallion was closer to an actual leader in terms of power than Puddinghead himself was. To the Low Valleys, the son of the late Muffintop was little more than a figurehead who inherited his position from his father. When all three leaders were gathered around the table, Smart Cookie gave a nod almost to himself and stepped away from the platform to disappear under the gallery. He wasn’t the only one to leave the room. Towards the eastern side of the assembly floor, Cyclone and Typhoon glanced to each other before stalking through their doorway and past Swift Spear, who would be watching the proceedings from the side. “Well,” Typhoon began as soon as they were out of earshot, “think anything interesting will happen?” Cyclone paused by one of the frosty windows and stared out into the howling blizzard that raged outside. The sun was invisible from the earth, and only a dull, gray glow showed it was still there. To the superstitious pegasus race, it only seemed like more and more proof of Grabacr’s Descent was building with each passing day. Blowing air out the side of his mouth and flexing his wings, Cyclone began to ascend the steps to the upper levels. “If anything happens, Ty, then I’ll be damned.” ----- The tension alone would have been enough to heat the chamber as the three leaders cast distrusting eyes over each other. Up above, their respective races did the same, although with breathless silence. The only noise present was the crackling of logs in the redundant fires that lit the hearths in the room. Commander Hurricane moved first, taking the helmet off of his head and setting it on the table next to him. Raising a hoof into the air, he waited while his counterparts copied his actions. When all three had shed their signs of authority and were ready to swear their honor to the meeting, Hurricane began the Cirran prayer of honesty. “Under Celeste’s sun and Lūn’s night, may our proceedings here be conducted in honesty and sincerity, lest our thirst for power and advancement leave us grounded and rend our wings to dust. Let our words be true and our resolve firm, and guide us through the dark to sunnier times.” Setting his hoof down, Hurricane sighed and flexed his shoulders. It was going to be a long day. “Now, let’s start with the basics. A blizzard the likes of which none of us has ever seen before rips across the land, freezing the Low Valleys and the Diamond Kingdom and wiping out whatever food that you two have,” began Hurricane. “First and foremost, food reserves need to be divided. Perhaps we should—” “Excuse me, Commander, but who put you in charge of this meeting?” Princess Platinum interrupted. “I think we should first address why it is snowing so hard in the first place. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that one of Cirra’s primary obligations as per the Tri-Pony Compact that you signed, Hurricane, was to keep the skies clear of frightful weather such as this!” Hurricane’s face contorted into a furious scowl as he was interrupted by the one pony he genuinely despised. “Do you take me for an idiot, Princess? I know very well the contents of the Compact—” “Then how did this blizzard appear, Commander? Only if you useless pegasi failed to disperse the clouds would such an event—” This time it was Hurricane’s turn to cut off Platinum. “Weather teams were dispersed, Platinum, and they failed to stop the storm! Winds gusting to hundreds of miles per hour and lightning strikes were just some of the obstacles that prevented them from completing their task!” He ground his teeth forcefully as he leaned back into his chair. “Forty-two Cirrans died before the teams were forced to pull back. There is nothing we can do about it.” Chancellor Puddinghead, who had until this point remained silent, added his own bubbly and hyperactive voice to the conversation. “Well then if you pegasusususes can’t do anything about it, then maybe the unicorns and their freaky magic should do something!” Hurricane’s eyes glinted as he leaned forward, happy to have a point of attack against Platinum. “The Chancellor is right, princess. If the unicorns are so powerful that they can move the sun and moon, as you wish me to believe, then why not hold the sun in place at high noon and let its heat burn away this storm?” The white unicorn flinched, but she bared her teeth and met Hurricane’s steely gaze with a glare of her own. “You dare mock the Diamond Kingdoms with this heresy? Everypony knows that we cannot hold the sun in place! It takes an incredible amount of Arcana to merely set it in motion each morning, and we cannot overcome that force in midday, lest we knock it out of the sky and bring it down on us all! Besides, we are no fools. While the world may be blessed with daylight on one side, on the other it is night. We would never force an eternal night on wherever the opposite of this side happens to be simply so that we may warm up a little!” “Hypocritical words coming from one of the most selfish mares I know,” Hurricane retorted. “Where is your father? I would much rather speak to a unicorn that knows sense rather than a horn such as yourself.” Platinum’s cheeks were overcome with a flush of red anger, but a spark of sadness and worry blinked in her eyes. “The good King Lapis is… sick. He was unable to attend this meeting, so he sent me in his stead. Still,” she fluffed up to her usual pompous air, “I speak with his authority, and the power to make decisions affecting the whole of the Diamond Kingdom rests in my hooves.” “If we can’t do anything about the dumb storm, then we need to figure out how we’re going to divide up our food,” Puddinghead offered. “I agree. Cloudsdale’s granaries are nearly empty, and until the weather passes, we need to have a secure supply of food if we’re going to keep up our duties. Now, I’ve sent regiments out to some of the neighboring countryside to find food, but we’re still reliant on our regular quotas from the Low Valleys if we’re going to survive.” “Hey, we’re doing our best with what we’ve got, mister Hurricane, but you flying-types eat soooooooo much food that we can’t keep up!” There were angry mutterings from the pegasus gallery in response to Puddinghead, and the other two races glared at them from their respective sections. “Us earth ponies need to eat too, and it doesn’t help us out any when your soldiers raid our towns and take what little we have left by force!” “I agree with the Chancellor,” Platinum interjected. “Cirra has become so sure of their strength that they think they can bully the other two tribes around to get what they need. Just yesterday, one of our companies was attacked by a regiment of your horrid Legion, killing seven unicorns. While the earth ponies may be pushed around in such a manner, the Diamond Kingdom will not stand for such actions!” “Then maybe your Diamond Guard should not be trying to raid the earth pony storehouses that hold Cirra’s shipments of food if they expect to get away with it next time.” Throwing a scroll across the table to Platinum, Hurricane planted his hooves on the wood and locked the mare in his glinting eyes as she read the report. “Learn not to stick your nose where it hurts, Princess, for this won’t be the only time Cirra responds with force to actions such as that.” “Can we stop acting like I’m not even here!” Puddinghead shouted. “This incident happened in one of our towns, and the conflict caused damage to property in addition to several bushels of wheat suddenly going ‘missing’ from our granaries! Both of you need to answer for this, or else!” “Or else what, my dear Chancellor?” Platinum purred to the stallion. “The Diamond Kingdom is more than willing to put aside our weapons and work together with the Low Valleys in the face of this… unchecked Cirran aggression.” “Every time I speak with you, Platinum, I always hear the same things,” seethed Hurricane. “Always quick to blame the pegasi for everything that’s gone wrong, always quick to take a stand against us for something we did or didn’t do. Unless we’re catering to your every whim, you always seem to find something that’s wrong with how we operate.” A chorus of rough yells and shouts erupted from behind Hurricane as the pegasus gallery expressed their hatred for the princess that dared curse their name. When the shouting was answered by yells from the unicorn gallery, Platinum’s horn glowed a light-blue as she leaned forward to answer Hurricane. “You pegasi have no respect for authority! Numerous times have I expressed my wishes to you or your sister, Commander, and never have I seen them carried out! Frankly, I doubt the capacity of the pegasi to do anything they’re told!” Shouts of ‘worthless horn!’ and other derogatory remarks answered Platinum from the Cirrans in the gallery. Hurricane was content to let them curse her for a few seconds before he finally opened his wings and silenced them all. “They do what they’re told from real authority, Princess. Cirra does not answer to you and it never will, and the sooner you get that idea through your thick skull, the better. We will not be brought under jurisdiction of the Diamond Kingdom as you seem to have brought the earth ponies—” “We don’t answer to them unicorns!” Puddinghead protested from Hurricane’s side. “…as you seem to have brought the earth ponies,” Hurricane continued. “Cirra has the power to defy you as much as we wish. We have the power to destroy you, even, yet we don’t. Have you ever wondered why that is? Perhaps it’s because we understand the benefit of working together, even as painful as that sometimes may be.” Indignant at being called weak, Platinum sat back in her chair and folded her forelegs. “Well I don’t see any benefit in working with your kind. Before the pegasi came along, the Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys got along just fine. There was plenty of food to go around, even in the coldest of winters, and we didn’t have to deal with an ever-present military running our cities. I think it would be best if we returned to that system.” “What are you saying?” Hurricane growled under his breath. His wings flexed with all the menace the bladed appendages could muster, which was no small amount. Platinum, to her credit, appeared unmoved by the action. “What I’m saying is that the pegasi should leave, Commander. Go take your city and fly it somewhere else. Why don’t you fly back across the ocean and leave this place forever? Leaving your problems behind seems to be the mindset for your kind when you can’t beat them. I’m sure you could do the same here.” The hearths in the chamber suddenly extinguished themselves as a blast of chilly air manifested itself from Hurricane’s Empatha. The pegasus had planted both hooves on the table and was breathing heavily. Looking up from the wood, he burned his gaze through Platinum’s irises and caused the unicorn to fall out of her chair in fright. “You know nothing about what we went through! You know absolutely nothing of what the pegasus race suffered!! We were driven to the brink of extinction by a foe stronger than us, and had we not have fled, we would have been completely destroyed!!” Hurricane removed his hooves from the table, and two hoofprints were clearly visible in the scorched wood. “How dare you pretend to know Cirra’s problems when your damned race has known nothing but comfort and security for as long as you can remember.” Off to the side, sitting under the earth pony gallery, Smart Cookie chewed on the edge of his hat. This was not going well at all. ----- Typhoon sighed as she sat on the roof of the parliamentary building. The winds had not ceased, and the strong gusts pulled at her mane and tore through her feathers like an icy river. But that didn’t much matter to her. At least it had stopped snowing, making the climate relatively comfortable—to her, that was. She had always preferred the cold, as it matched well with the icy sedative that seemed to replace her adrenaline in combat. If she applied herself a bit more to mastering her Empatha, she would make a decent ice Empath. Cyclone, of course, was still inside the interior of the structure, prowling around its inhabitants in the relative warmth. He much rather preferred the heat of summertime over the wintery cold, and he tried to expose himself to the outside as little as possible in the darker months. That was not always possible with his job, so instead he would set his wings ablaze with his own Empatha and let the heat warm his coat as he walked. It served as a relatively remarkable display of power, being yet another contrast between him and his sister. The phrase ‘fire and ice’ crossed Typhoon’s mind, but she quickly shot it down as soon as she knew what she was thinking. The centurions referred to the two of them by that moniker often enough. Yet here she was again in the ice while Cyclone was probably staying near a fire. Whatever. At least she didn’t have to listen to that accursed princess ramble on about the Diamond Kingdom and giving everypony crap. One of these days, Platinum was going to get bucked in the face, and Typhoon was going to be first in line. Or second, maybe, right behind her father. The thought of pounding in the snobbish mare’s snout caused Typhoon to grin as she clung on to the roof. Something moved in the corner of her vision. Ripping her sword from its scabbard, the Praetorian spun on her hooves and glared in the direction she thought she saw it come from. The sudden shift of her position dumped several sheets of snow off of her back as she moved for the first time in an hour, and a layer fell off of the roof towards the snow banks below. Gray buildings obscured by heavy coverings of snow lined the streets as far as her eyes could see. Dim torches struggled to repel the shadows that were struggling to overtake the land under Grabacr’s storm, and the shutters on an abandoned house clattered in the wind. Whatever it was that she saw, it was either gone or hiding. Typhoon suspected the latter. Backing up to a higher point on the roof, the mare tried to glance around some of the rooftops of the neighboring buildings for a glimpse of what it was that she had seen. Settling down on an embankment, she hugged her wings against her sides for warmth and waited. Remaining as still as a statue, Typhoon quelled her shivering body and disappeared from the rooftop, becoming one of the chimneys next to her for all anypony could tell. It took an incredible amount of patience and willpower to remain still for so long, but Typhoon was rewarded when she caught a glimpse of a figure sprinting across the street and closer to the building. Her sharp eyes caught three important details in the two seconds it took for the pony to disappear into another alleyway; first, it was a unicorn stallion. Second, he was heavily armed and armored in jewels and gold. Third and most important of all, his coat was a deep shade of sapphire blue. That was all Typhoon needed to see. Sprinting to a specific section of the roof, she pounded on the thatch and wooden support with all the force she could muster in her legs. If Cyclone hadn’t moved from his post below, he should be able to hear her alarm. Thankfully he had not wandered off, and Typhoon heard a window shatter as Cyclone flew onto the roof. His feathers were loosely frayed from the heat inside, but they quickly tightened and compressed against his sides as he felt the cold. He must have been practically sitting in the fireplace for all the sweat and soot that covered his neck and mane. “What is it?” he panted, stretching the scales of his wingblades and loosening his scabbard. His eyes searched the streets in every direction for signs of trouble, but there was none to be seen. “Our friend from the Blue Coats is back,” Typhoon answered, pointing towards a multi-story building across the street. Cyclone squinted as he scrutinized the structure, then hissed as he saw the unicorn sprint from one window to the next. He would have launched himself at the figure then and there if Typhoon didn’t hold him back. “Easy now, Cy. Remember, this guy isn’t just your average criminal scum. He moves with purpose, and I highly doubt he’s alone.” Wiping the snow off of a spot on the roof, Typhoon cleared a seat for herself and sat on her laurels. Cyclone spat at the snow before kicking a clearing for himself as well. “Right. Well, there’s only one reason that the leader of a criminal gang would be here on a day like this. The question is, how’re we going to stop him?” Typhoon flexed her wings and looked to where more shadowy figures were appearing in the neighboring buildings. “You really think they’re going to go after Dad?” “Of course they are. What else would they be doing here?” Unsheathing his sword, Cyclone ran a hoof along the blade, feeling the heat that the cumulostratus steel produced. “So how are we going to take them out, then?” Satisfied that the blade of his weapon was sharp enough, Cyclone slid his sword back into its scabbard. “We take that blue bastard out, that’s how. These gangs, they all might look tough, but the only thing they have in common is greed and a powerful leader. Take away the leader, and their greed makes them start killing each other.” Typhoon smiled and stood up, shaking the snow from her tail. “How about we pay Mr. Blue Coat a visit then, eh?” Sparks flew from the tips of Cyclone’s wings as he shook them, hissing against the snow as the cold snuffed them out. Testing that his blades weren’t frozen over, he flexed the scales along the wing arms before leaping off of the building and shooting across the street. Typhoon quickly fluttered after him and caught up with her older brother in front of a large window on the building they had targeted. Thankful that he at least had the sense to not smash in the glass and lose the initiative, Typhoon gently pried the window open and set herself inside. In older days and fairer weather, the rickety building must have been an impressive mansion owned by some unicorn merchant who found a way to plumb Amber Field’s wealth for all it was worth. Now, the spacious hallways were cluttered with covered furniture, and dust ate away at the peeling wallpaper. Pictures in shattered frames hung precariously from the walls, and the doorframes were badly gapped and splintered from years of weathering. A cautious step revealed to Typhoon how squeaky the floorboards were, and seeing that the frigid wood was prone to creaking and groaning, the pair of pegasi maneuvered themselves throughout the building with their wings. Typhoon was just thankful that she had taken the time to oil the skysteel scales on her wings earlier that morning. The siblings stopped when they found a room poorly illuminated by dying candles. Shadows danced across the snow that had blown in from a nearby shattered window, and the sound of voices was plainly audible from the staircase they were descending. Quietly popping the latches on their swords, the two Imperators loosened the blades within their scabbards as they slowly advanced towards the doorframe. “…told him it was the buckin’ cold, not some of Cutter’s freaky unicorn magic,” a gruff voice was saying. Gesturing with her wings for Cyclone to hang back, Typhoon crept towards the edge of the wall and peeked around the doorframe. Two earth pony stallions, each carrying a large sword on one flank and a small bow on the other, sat in front of a hearth with a crackling fire in it. They were armored in rough plates of iron embedded with gem scraps, but the edges were all gilded in blue paint. “That’s Clay Tail, for ya,” the other stallion, a rather large umber pony, was saying. “As soon as the boss lights up his horn, he’s looking himself over to make sure he didn’t turn into an orange or somethin’.” “Still?! Bah ha! I thought he was over that, like, a month ago. It was just a Celestis-damned rat, for Her sake!” The stallion with the gruff voice and charcoal coat bellowed. There was a round of laughter and hoof-stomping before Typhoon saw the two suddenly scramble into an alert position and grab their weapons. The mare retreated behind the wall again, but not before she saw a blue unicorn stride into the center of the room. “Staying warm and being hearty, I see?” the unicorn leader began as he advanced on his two subordinates. Typhoon could see their knees trembling as they held their weapons tightly in a rigid salute. The unicorn stallion weaved his way between the two of them, inspecting their armor and the very hairs of their coats. Satisfied, he paced to the windows on the far side of the room and attempted to stare down the courthouse that so many powerful figures were bickering inside. “Th-the gang’s in p-position, s-sir,” the charcoal earth pony stuttered. “We’re r-really going to do it, aren’t we?” “Of course we are, Gravel,” the unicorn replied. “Or did you think this a training exercise?” “N-no, sir, not at all, sir, I just—” “Shut it!” The blue stallion spun on his hooves and strode towards the center of the room. “I don’t care what you think, I only care that you do what I say. At some point, Hurricane and Platinum are going to be storming out of that courthouse. I want that pegasus dead before he gets the chance to flutter his wings, and get Platinum back to the hideout. The King will cut any deal to get her safety.” The larger, umber stallion’s ears perked. “Does this mean we’ll finally get those millions of bits you promised us?” The blue unicorn scowled and extinguished the fire with his horn. “One thing at a time, Silt. We have our orders. We take out Hurricane and nab the Princess, and we kill any pegasus that gets in our way!” Typhoon’s feathers flared in alarm, and she instinctually flung herself to the opposite end of the hall. No sooner had her hooves left the ground did the wall she was previously leaning against explode into thousands of splinters of wood and pieces of plaster. A massive cone of blue Arcana ripped through the structure of the mansion, tearing down several walls in its path before finally dissipating against the side of an adjacent building. Cyclone snarled in rage and ripped his sword from his scabbard while Typhoon struggled to kick the rubble off of her body. “You!” Cyclone hissed as he charged into the room. The earth ponies known as Gravel and Silt already had their weapons clamped in their jaws as they lunged towards the enraged pegasus, but they quickly released them when they found that their bodies had contacted pure fire burning off of Cyclone’s wings. In two quick slashes, the Imperator had disemboweled both with his sword before they could even start to scream. The Blue Coat leader cursed and sprinted down a neighboring hallway, taking the time to rip the supports of an archway down after him to block Cyclone’s path. Rather than stop to remove the debris by hoof, Cyclone simply ratcheted up the fire on his wings by several hundred degrees until it wreathed his body in a deadly glow. By the time Typhoon freed herself from the rubble, Cyclone had already incinerated the debris in his path and was pursuing his target through the ruins of the mansion. “Cyclone! Damn it, Cyclone, calm down!” Typhoon shouted as she chased her brother. The flames billowing off of the pyre that was Cyclone’s wings had caught hold on the wallpaper and was rapidly spreading throughout the dry wood of the mansion. The heat tore at her mane as she plunged through several walls of fire, bringing forth unwelcome sweat to her face and neck. At least the skysteel in her armor absorbed the brunt of the Empatha fire as she passed through it, and the speed with which she galloped shook off the lingering sparks that clung to the fur of her coat. There must have been nearly a dozen Blue Coats gathered in the mansion alone, for they sprinted out of rooms and over debris in their path to escape the raging inferno that was quickly swallowing the building. Several turned to stop and fight Typhoon, but she slid under one earth pony and cut his legs out from under him with her wingblades before leaping across a unicorn’s back, axing his horn as she soared overhead. The stallion wailed and fumbled for the bony protrusion as it fell to the ground, but Typhoon paid him no mind. The building was quickly succumbing to fire, and Cyclone was getting farther away from her. Her trademark calm and precision guided her through the flaming wrecks of halls lined with portraits and covered with shattered glass from broken frames and windows. Again, she cursed her father’s refusal to adopt skysteel shoes for the Legion as the glass cut through the skin around her hooves. One day, when she was Commander Maximus… Her hooves skidded across the wooden floor as she struggled to change direction. Now was not the time for dreams of glory! In her distraction, Typhoon had nearly passed the flaming passage that Cyclone had sped through. She struck a hoof against her helmet in frustration and galloped after him, keeping a close eye on the fire as the Empatha primer-fuel was consumed and the blaze switched to traditional tinder to feed itself. Cyclone was getting farther and farther from her, and the trail was dying. Flapping her wings, Typhoon began to zip through the narrow hallways and staircases. Her speed put her dangerously close to breaking her neck against a sharp corner, but she pressed on regardless. She was the Legion’s best flier, the fastest and most agile pegasus in Cirra, and she would not be beaten by her brother in his raging pursuit. The trail of Empatha came to a sudden stop at the remains of a shattered window. Without hesitation, Typhoon flung herself through the gap and tucked her wings against her sides as she fell the three stories towards the alley below. Rather than crash against the dirt and refuse, she flared her wings at the last second and dove through the shattered window just above street level. Tongues of fire were already consuming the kitchen she entered, and she knew she was back on the right track. There was a powerful roar from two stories up, and the shoddy stone and brick house shook to its very foundations. The sudden shudder of the building nearly caused Typhoon to lose her hoofing, but she quickly found the nearest staircase and flew up it. She was getting close, and the sounds of battle were beginning to reach her ears. Despite her best attempts at restraint, the mare felt sorry for the unicorn trying to fight against her brother’s unleashed fury. “I’m coming, Cy!” she shouted as she spiraled around the landing of one staircase and began to ascend the other. She had to spin and swerve around several panicked earth ponies as they tried to rush out of the structure, and the actions cost her several precious seconds. “Just please leave something for us to interrogate!” Typhoon was fairly sure she knew what to expect when she rounded the final landing. Lots of destroyed walls and furniture would greet her, followed by a scathing heat as every wall in the room was covered in fire. Stray marks of Arcana would decorate what hadn’t already been blistered by Cyclone’s rage, and the ceiling, if it had escaped decimation entirely, would be a haphazard collection of lucky paneling that had escaped the brawl. And in the center of the room, Cyclone would be busy charring an unlucky unicorn beyond recognition. So Typhoon immediately knew something was off when only two walls of the room were wreathed in fire instead of the usual four. Granted, there was still an incredible amount of destruction as the remains of furniture and interior walls littered the floor, but the roof had no holes punched in it. What was most alarming was that the blue unicorn was actually standing, and Cyclone was not. The red pegasus was struggling to break free from a prison of rubble telekinetically placed around him as a sort of cage and reinforced by the unicorn’s magic. Cyclone was throwing all the fire he could into his surroundings, but the stone floor refused to be scorched and the Arcana refused to let the debris be burnt away. His energy was burning up with the fire he created from it, and in a few moments he would be too tired to struggle. Despite the advantage that the unicorn had gained, he was still worse for wear. His coat was covered in soot and several patches of flesh were scalded from what Typhoon presumed to be the remains of Cyclone’s fiery tackles. He stood on three legs, holding a bloody and cut foreleg up against his side as his vitality dripped around him. But even with the physical abuse he had taken, the Blue Coat leader’s mind was still sharp and his focus as controlled as ever, and his command over the cage he had created was perfect. Fortunately, it was not perfect for long. With hardly a cry other than a grunt to brace herself, Typhoon slammed against the unicorn’s side and sent him spinning across the remains of the room. The Arcana holding Cyclone’s cage in place dissipated in an instant, and with one last explosion of fire, the Imperator incinerated the remains that still surrounded him. Taking a deep and angry breath to collect himself, Cyclone picked his sword up from where it lay on the ground and began to gallop towards the blue unicorn. Typhoon was struggling with the cretin, delivering blows to his chest and snarling as he mercilessly pummeled her face. Brute force and strength was never her specialty, and she was swiftly being taken apart by the heavier and tougher stallion above her. A powerful hoof cracked against her jaw, and Typhoon’s vision swam with unnatural colors as the ligaments in her cheek struggled to pull the bone back into its socket. Before the unicorn could deliver another blow or spear Typhoon with his horn, his weight suddenly vanished from the mare’s chest. Cradling her skewed jaw with a hoof, she slid backwards against the scorched remains of a couch as Cyclone pounded his opponent’s armor into pieces. Shards of sapphire and gold tinkled across the ground as the gang leader found himself hurled across the room to where he collided against a blistered wall. Cyclone had no intentions of giving his opponent time to stand up, and with frayed feathers he propelled himself towards the blue stallion. His sword was aimed perfectly at the unicorn’s neck, and sparks of Empatha flew off of the skysteel as the blade thirsted for blood. It was going to end then and there. The blade inexplicably passed barely an inch to the right of the unicorn’s neck. Surprise paralyzed the usually fast-acting pegasus, and the unicorn made him pay for it with a painful head-butt to the snout before scrambling away towards the remains of one of the walls overlooking the street. Spitting the blood from between his teeth, he glowered at the two pegasi struggling to get up from the stone. “Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic,” was the stallion’s chastising remark. “I expected much more from two of the top Praetorians in Cirra.” Typhoon had finally managed to get her jaw popped back into position, although it pained her at the slightest movement. “We… we stopped your plan, Blue Coat.” The Blue Coat grimaced and picked up a large shard of his armor with his magic. “Yes, well, those are details anyway. I’m not the one who set two buildings ablaze in the center of Amber Field, the political capital of the world, I might add. I imagine the Representatives are going to be rather angry with the culprits, and might consider curtailing business with the nation they stand for.” Bringing almost a wistful smile to his lips, the unicorn tucked the plate of sapphire in a bag on his flank and shook his head. “And I thought that the Legion trained its soldiers to fight with honor.” Cyclone spat and helped Typhoon onto her hooves. “Honor is for those who fight with nothing to hide and everything to lose. What are you hiding, you filthy Blue Coat? Who are you, really?” The unicorn turned his back on the two pegasi and spoke towards the courthouse. “Nopony in particular. If you really want something to call me by, go with Jewel. I couldn't honestly care less.” Stretching his legs and back, Jewel looked scathingly over his shoulder one last time. “This is just the beginning, Praetorian.” There was a brief flash of light, and the sapphire unicorn was gone. Cyclone and Typhoon looked in its direction for several moments longer before the two began to limp back through the carcass of the burning building. ----- “If you non-earths aren’t going to stop using your weirdo powers, then I’m just plum out of ideas!” The past fifteen minutes had been nothing more than the leaders hurling insults at each other, and Puddinghead’s admittance was the next of many signs that the meeting had no chance of accomplishing anything. Even Hurricane, who rarely let himself get riled, was quickly succumbing to anger and frustration the longer the bickering went on. It didn’t help that Princess Platinum brought out the absolute worst in him. “Thank you for the update, Chancellor. It’s not like I didn’t know that before,” the Commander grumbled. He had long since resigned to his seat, not bothering to look in Platinum’s direction. To him, the unicorn mare had ceased to exist, and it was driving her crazy. “Commander Hurricane, must we continue with the brutish insults?” she challenged, leaning across the table. There was grumbling of assent from the unicorn and earth pony galleries, but the pegasi remained deathly silent. For the first time in several minutes, Hurricane acknowledged Platinum’s presence. “Stop cozying up to the earth ponies. About seven minutes and twenty-three seconds ago, you referred to the Chancellor and the entire earth pony race as ‘little more than sad clots of mud that not even a boar would dare walk across’. Your hypocrisy is so astounding that you’ve lost whatever weight your words carry, and frankly, I’m done speaking with you.” Platinum stood back and placed her crown on her head, although Hurricane noted it was upside-down. “Fine! I was done speaking with you anyways! Guards, let us be out of this accursed place!” Trotting to the door with the two Diamond Guards in tow, Platinum nearly collided with the suddenly-materialized Chancellor before she could leave. “Well I’m done with speaking to all three, I mean, two of you! I’m leaving first!” Puddinghead kicked up several piles of dirt at Platinum’s robes before struggling to push open the pull-door. The two leaders shoved each other before Platinum managed to shift the earth pony aside with her magic and open the door herself. The galleries were rapidly emptying, and Smart Cookie’s eyes darted about the room as the last hope for the tribes fell to pieces. Seeing Hurricane make for the door, the Representative ran over and threw himself around the knees of the mighty stallion. “Please, Commander Hurricane! We can’t all give up now! There has to be something we could do!” Hurricane looked at the earth pony as if a splatter of mud had stained his armor, and he spared no force in dislodging Smart Cookie from his legs. “There’s nothing I can do, Representative. Platinum is little more than a spoiled brat and your Chancellor is an idiot. Had King Lapis and anypony other than Puddinghead attended this meeting, then I might have been able to do something. Now leave me be. Cirra must make its own preparations against the storm.” Giving one last kick to shake Smart Cookie off, Hurricane walked out of the door and across the street. He rejoined with his family and several other Praetorians before fighting the wintry winds and beginning the long flight back to Cloudsdale in the north. “Commander! Commander, please, wait!” Smart Cookie wailed as he ran out onto the snow. His eyes quickly lost focus on the retreating herd of pegasi as a buffet of hot air blew against his coat from the side of the courthouse. Rounding the corner, the smoldering remains of two buildings greeted him as they belched smoke into the snowy skies. Several neighboring structures caught up the fire on their own, spreading it across the dry thatch of their roofs and to other targets. Amber Field constables were trying to pull residents from their homes, occasionally dragging out a charred body or two. Smart Cookie collapsed onto his haunches in disbelief. This was definitely not going well at all. Dedicated to James Wilson. May he watch over us from the Great Skies and the Summer Lands. > Chapter 5: Winds of the West > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 5: Winds of the West The train to Baltimare was noticeably absent from the Saraneighvo Central Station that morning. With the massive storm brewing on the southern horizon, where the clouds were just beginning to surmount the mountains, Twilight and Rainbow Dash wanted nothing more than to take the knowledge they had and retreat back to the warmth of the Equestrian mainland. Now, it seemed that the cursed snows were determined to trap them in Saraneighvo forever. Despite the frightening amount of trains that missed their scheduled times as the day wore on, nopony in the station seemed particularly upset or surprised. Sure, there was much grumbling among the commuters, but none seemed to question where the trains were. It was not until Twilight decided to assault an off-duty conductor with questions did she finally get an answer. “Один поезд в неделю.” “Pardon me?” was Twilight’s response. She tried to string a Stalliongradi sentence together, though without her books, such was impossible. “Uh… Я не... говорить... Stallion-градский хорошо.” The conductor, a large pony the color of coal dust with an ashy mane, rolled his eyes. “Is January, Equestrian. Train no run on time but once week. Weekly storms blocks rails. Must clear before engines run.” Swishing his tail, he quickly trotted away from them to find someplace quiet and have a drink. Exasperated, Twilight growled and stalked back towards Rainbow. The pegasus was occupying an entire station bench by herself, with her powdery blue wings spread the length of the back. She had already fallen asleep in the predawn hours, and her nose twitched as flakes of snow landed on its surface and promptly melted. Twilight sighed and sat down next to Rainbow, muttering obscenities and curses under her breath that she would never otherwise say within eight hundred miles of Celestia. Luckily, Saraneighvo was exactly 829.6325 miles from Canterlot, and assuming the Princess hadn’t traveled any good distance to the east lately, Twilight was safe. She was content to sit there for the next five minutes, until Rainbow’s snoring started to rattle her teeth within her skull. Leaning over, Twilight gently prodded her friend’s side until the pegasus began to stir. It took an incredible amount of effort to get Rainbow to become aware of her surroundings, and even then, sleep still preyed on the pegasus’ tired mind. “Nnngh… what is it, Twilight? Is the train here?” Blue hooves rubbed at magenta irises as Rainbow fought to scrape away her sleep, and she folded her wings against her sides as she began to shiver. “Unfortunately not, Rainbow. The storm blocked off the line from Stalliongrad. The conductor said it would be another week before we can get to Baltimare.” Rainbow Dash groaned and sunk her head over the back of the bench in despair. “I thought we were going to get out of this frozen Tartarus-hole and finally get to someplace mildly warm.” Slapping a hoof against her face, Dash pulled on her cheeks and looked towards the gray sky visible through the cracks in the roof. “I was supposed to help Applejack move some old equipment out of her barn or somecrap like that this week. Now I’m going to leave her hanging.” Although appalled that she would be letting her friends down, Rainbow at least knew that it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing she could do about it. Her mood brightened, and as she came more and more to her senses, she began to pace around the train station. When her wings twitched for use and she couldn’t take it anymore, the pegasus began to fly intricate and tight loops in the ample space the high ceiling of the station provided her. Many ponies who had no better place to be stopped to watch the amateur stunt-flier as she flew laps around the station. Although Stalliongrad’s Tsar was an alicorn and one of his sons was a pegasus, winged ponies were still a rare enough sight in the Domain of Stalliongrad that Rainbow’s performance inspired wonder and awe in her observers. When she felt that she had finally gotten the exercise her wings had sorely missed the past few days, Rainbow fluttered down onto the tile floor next to Twilight and bowed to her impromptu audience. Then, turning and flicking her ears in one last gesture of appreciation, she led her companion out of the train station and back to the center of Saraneighvo. The two Equestrians returned to the ramshackle inn that they had stayed the night before and rented their room again. The innkeeper was surprised to see them return so soon, but when Twilight explained that the trains had not come and they were running low on bits, the pony was kind enough to rent them their quarters at a discounted price. Happy that she didn’t have to pawn off one of her books for money, Twilight would have spent the rest of the morning thanking the innkeeper had Rainbow Dash not gently led her away and into their room. The room was exactly how they had left it when they departed two hours prior. Rainbow’s bed was still unmade and her side of the room was surprisingly cluttered with what little there was to clutter it with, while Twilight’s side was in neat and perfect order, her bed perfectly made and folded at right angles. Even the pillow had been fluffed for optimal head-cushioning without sacrificing its shape. All that work was undone as Twilight collapsed onto her bed and began to moan. She hated the cold, hated the dirty city of Saraneighvo, hated the Celestia-damned trains for not running on time. Why did she pick January, of all possible months, to go on this expedition?! Oh, wait. Because she had found out the crypt’s location only four days ago and couldn’t control her enthusiasm. Still, she could have waited for the warmer months of June or July, even though ‘warmer’ was a subjective term. Despite the continuous winter that Stalliongrad and the surrounding wastes suffered through the whole year, the temperature noticeably inclined during the summer months. Sometimes it would inch above freezing, and the snow would melt for a week or two. Just the year prior, the sky cleared for an entire day and the temperature spiked into the low-sixties, offering the Stalliongradis their first experience with warm weather. The blame, of course, fell on weather pollution from the foundries in Cloudsdale. Rainbow Dash was far less concerned about the cold outside, taking no notice of it other than to wedge a sheet of newsprint in a gap under the window to stop a draft. For her, the extended stay in Saraneighvo meant more boredom and less time to fly. It was not like she could just go down the streets and tour the city. First off, hardly any of the locals knew Equiish, and second, there was nothing to see in the snowy town. Unless she decided to watch the glaciated coast and look for whales breaking through the frigid water, there was nothing for her to do. Well, almost nothing. “Hey, Twilight. Can we look at Hurricane’s journal thing some more?” Twilight promptly sat up on her bed, happy to have something to do. “Sure, Rainbow. Let me just get it out.” Her horn lit in a fuchsia aura as she levitated her bag over to a table and began to peruse through the contents. After carefully depositing several books in neat order on the table, she finally located the mighty pegasus’ work and brought it over to herself. Her mattress shook on the bedsprings as Rainbow unceremoniously plopped down next to her. “Now, where were we…” Twilight began as she started to page through the journal. Her bookmark had fallen out in the bag, and she had to sort past the twenty years prior to the Hearth’s Warming event, and then another sixty or so pages deeper just to get back to where she was at. “We were just past the big meeting thing,” Rainbow offered. “You know, the one that we did in the play. Hurricane’s account is a lot more dark and tense than the one I acted out with Pinkie and Rarity.” “That would be because actual politics were at play,” Twilight countered. “You don’t get anything done in negotiations when you try to bludgeon your way through them. Trust me, I sat in on a few of Celestia’s important meetings when I was a little filly, and even though I was bored to tears I still learned a thing or two. Besides, the ‘official’ story that we use was written by Clover the Clever some years after the event itself, and she was an infamous sentimentalist. She loved writing foals’ tales in her spare time, and I think her bloodless and over the top interpretation of this event was written to teach the lessons of friendship to her readers.” Rainbow’s eyebrows scrunched as she thought. “So, what you’re saying is that every pony, young and old, for hundreds and thousands of years, has been listening to a fairy tale and taking it as fact?” “Essentially,” Twilight nodded. “Although the story itself is based on actual facts that Clover lived through, the actions of the characters in it are, well, about as real as the griffon Santa Claws.” Rainbow snorted and released a few short chuckles as she leaned back on the bed. “Gilda told me about that back when we were kids. It’s so ironic that the griffons would have a figure like that.” She coughed once or twice, a raspy, hacking noise as the unbearably dry air cut at her throat. She had to stop sleeping with her mouth open; she lost too much moisture that way. Clearing her throat again and getting some water from the bar, Rainbow Dash was finally able to kick back with her forelegs crossed behind her neck as Twilight found where they left off. The unicorn ended her spell and released her hold on the book, carefully brushing away a stray piece of dust or ash before laying it out in front of her and beginning to read. “Alright. Well, I imagine this here would be when the leaders decide to go and find a new land to settle. This account’s surprisingly thick; Hurricane must have gotten input from the other leaders themselves. So, here we are; the Twenty-Fifth of Bare Trees, Four Hundred and Twenty-One After Empire.” ----- Even high above the earth, the winds tore through the city of Cloudsdale with a fury not seen for thousands of years. The very foundations of the city shook, and quite violently so. Several small and flimsy houses outside of the city’s strong walls caved to the gale, separating into massive blocks of cloudstone that shattered against the ground with a dull thud and a splash of water. Weather teams had been dispatched to gather as much stratus and cumulus as possible to fortify the city’s foundations, but the storm fought back, killing five and wounding several dozen more. Grabacr would not be defeated so easily, and any of the offending heretics who ventured within range of his wrath would be swatted down like flies and crushed against the stony walls of the mountains. To compound to the difficulties was the dire shortage of food, and even the strongest of stallions in the mighty Legion were beginning to suffer from malnutrition. In the midst of the gale, Hurricane knelt before a single statue in the very center of Town Square. Cast out of pure stratus skysteel, the figure’s coat was as silvery as it had been in life. The larger-than-life depiction stood five-foot tall on a pedestal of another two feet, and its gaze was fixed far to the east, in the direction of skies long lost, but not yet forgotten. One wing was flared and armed with lethal iron scales; the other hung by its side, broken and twisted. Despite the pain on the soldier’s helmetless face, his body supported the Imperator’s armor as if he was born in it. Finally, clamped tightly between his teeth, a sword of pure silver glinted in the dim light from the east. Hurricane had sat in front of that statue for several hours, cold and alone, but he didn’t care. His cheeks were wet but his eyes were shrouded under his helmet, so anypony that passed by could not tell if he was crying or if it was snow that had melted on his face. His sword had been laid bare in front of the statue’s hooves, and the Commander had traced sad scratches into the ice around its base. What messages they contained would soon be lost forever as the snow continued to fall and cover them. Sniffling at either the cold or his tears, or perhaps both, Hurricane turned his weary face towards the head of the soldier standing above him. With a sigh, he bit his lip and shook his head. He didn’t know what to do, and there was nopony to guide him. Perhaps that was why he sought consolation in the statue’s presence; that pony was the only one in life who seemed to have the answers to Hurricane’s questions, and the black stallion sought those answers now. “I just…” he stopped, choking on a weak sob. “I’m lost, Silver. I thought I’d be able to build a home for Cirra here, and to capitalize on what you gave for us. But what have I done? Twenty years of surviving with the other races in spite of each other, rather than with each other.” His body shuddered, and he lowered his head towards the ground. “Cirra is falling apart again, Silver, and now Grabacr’s leading the charge. How am I supposed to stand up to a God?” Whatever words the silent statue of Imperator Silver Sword had to offer to his closest companion, they were only audible to Hurricane himself. Even then, the mighty Commander only placed a hoof to his forehead and mumbled in despair. “I thought I would never have to go through that again. Magnus and Gryphus chased us from our home and sent us fleeing across the sea like so many frightened foals, and I hoped that we could use this time to rebuild and regroup and maybe, just maybe, take our home back one day. I’ll be damned if I have to run again.” Silver Sword only imparted calm indifference to Hurricane, and the Commander shuffled his hooves in response. “Right. You’re right. Maybe there is nothing else to do. The storm isn’t going to break, as far as I can tell. The prophets foretold that his descent would be terrible and all-consuming, and that his wrath would spell the end for all of ponykind. I see no reason to argue with them now.” Following the statue’s gaze to the east, Hurricane shivered and flicked the ice crystals off of his feathers. “Were it so that we could return to our home. The pegasi were not born here; these skies are not the skies our fathers, and their fathers, flew under hundreds of years ago. Stratopolis does not grace the heavens with its presence here; Nimbus does not guard the east, standing as a bastion for the mightiest of races and the judgment its military wields.” He shuddered, and bit his lip as memories of burning houses and scorched fields came back to him. “These lands are not our home, and Zephyrus only lies in burnt wastes far from here. Were it so that we could honor those who died, and lay their corpses to rest for Garuda to guide to the afterlife.” Holding his sword between his hooves, Hurricane shook his head. “But it will never be so, and maybe this is the end of Cirra. An empire that once ruled the world, dispensing fortune and death in equal measure. An empire that challenged the very majesty of the skies until we bent them to our will. “An empire that fought through so much, but in the end, fell not with the herald of trumpets and the cry of conquest, but with a whimper, as she slowly starved to death.” Silver Sword’s statue creaked, perhaps with disappointment. Whatever it was, it seemed to snap Hurricane out of his melancholy. Gnashing his teeth together, the black pegasus straightened up and returned his sword to its scabbard. His magenta irises burned with a passionate focus, and he knew what he had to do. “No. I won’t let Cirra fall. Not again. Not after everything that we went through together just so that it would have a future.” Eyes fixated on the west, Hurricane saluted Silver Sword and began to walk towards the palace. If Cirra could not have a future in the east and could not have a future with the other tribes, then the proud nation of pegasi would travel ever-westward until they found a home to support and sustain them. A home where they could have peace and prosperity, thus far denied to them for over two decades. And it was a wonderful thought that accompanied him as he rose to the height of Cirran government, prepared to venture out and give his life if he must to make it possible. ----- The carriage bringing Princess Platinum and her train back to River Rock nearly fell off the cliffs of the valley twice in its journey, the roads were so poor and the snow so thick. They even missed the descending road into the valley, and had to backtrack fifteen miles to find it and enter the city proper. River Rock was suffocating in snowfall, and the river that gave the city life was completely frozen over. The Diamond Guard had done their best to clear the streets, but even then, some parts of the city were inaccessible with the high snowfall. Buildings of stone listed heavily under the weight of the snow they carried on their roofs, and the blustery city walls had been all but abandoned as the soldiers sought warmth and comfort. Despite the reputation the Guard prided itself on, as it had need to do when trying to compare to the impressive Cirran Legion, its soldiers were more or less nobles who were willing to get their hooves dirty for their Kingdom, so long as they didn’t get too mud stained. It took twenty frustrating minutes to get from the northern gate of River Rock to the entrance of Castle Burning Hearth, as the cobblestone streets were blanketed in a sheet of solid ice. With the castle situated on an incline from the gates, walking up the ice was nearly impossible. Going down was much easier, as several foals discovered. The young unicorns slid along on their stomachs from the top of the street to the bottom, forgetting about the cold and the gnawing hunger in their chests for a short while. In stark contrast to the frozen waste of a city outside, the interior of Burning Hearth lived up to its namesake in all its lavishness. Warm sheets of orange and red crackled in every fireplace, and soft music tinkled from the great dining hall, buried deeper in the royal castle around walls of the strongest stones and hallways filled with the most impressive works of art. The smell of greens and freshly-baked bread wafted from the kitchen towards the Princess’ nose, which she greedily inhaled. But before she could dine on her well-deserved meal, she had to get cleaned up first. There was no way she would ever appear at a meal in anything less than absolute perfection of body and mind. “Clover!” she called into the halls as she diverted off towards her personal quarters. When nopony materialized in the five seconds her patience lasted for, she stomped her hoof on the ground and called again. “Clover! Where are you, dear, I need some hot water for my hooves.” “Coming, Princess!” was the reply as it echoed down the stone hall, accompanied by galloping hoofsteps that clacked on the solid floor. The unicorn was a pistachio-green mare who wore her curled, dark green mane conservatively around her forehead and horn. Purple eyes averted themselves from the Princess’ form as she lowered the bucket of hot water she carried with her at her master’s hooves. Grabbing a shawl from a nearby hook on the wall, Clover carefully wrapped Platinum to help her maintain her preferred temperature. “Ah, Clover, there you are,” the Princess purred as she set her forehooves down in the water. “I’ve been dreaming of this ever since I left that wretched courthouse in Amber Field. I’ve oft done the impossible in my many years as representative of the Diamond Kingdom, but that was by far the most difficult challenge I’ve ever come across.” Clover rolled her eyes at Platinum’s extreme exaggeration of her political usefulness, but she made sure that the action was hidden from the Princess’ sight. Adjusting her rags around her form, a simple four-leaf clover barely revealed itself against her flanks as she grabbed a comb from Platinum’s bed to help stylize her princess’ luxurious purple mane. “Did the other pony tribes see reason as I predicted, your Highness?” “Absolutely not!” the white unicorn exclaimed with a twinge of horror. “Those other tribes are impossible! I, for one, can no longer bear to be anywhere near those lowly creatures. The unicorns are noble, and majestic! We will no longer consort with the likes of them.” The last word was delivered with an angry stop of hooves, and Clover had to shield herself from the splash of water it produced. “Really? But the meeting should have worked! If all of you had taken the time to gather together and discuss your problems—” “Believe me, Clover, I tried many times to humbly advance the interests of the Diamond Kingdom, but each and every time I was interrupted by that foolish earth pony Chancellor, or that horrible Commander Hurricane! They refused to work together, and before I knew it, I was forced to defend not only my honor, but the honor of the entire Kingdom from their heretical slander!” Disgusted, Platinum stomped her hooves and only succeeded in splashing out more water. “How dare they challenge that we don’t raise the sun! Why, we don’t even need the pegasi, not really. The only thing they do is put their bit to the sword and mindlessly hack away at anything that crosses them. The Diamond Guard is more than capable of taking over their job, and they’d be much better at it, too. At least they understand decency and etiquette.” Clover flicked her ears, but other than that little action she gave no response to Platinum’s hyperbole. Fifteen years of servitude had instilled in the mare of twenty-five the ability to suppress reactions her masters, especially the Princess, would find insulting. Instead, she set about rectifying Platinum’s mane with her favorite comb, and began to make subtle suggestions to guide her train of thought. “I’m sure your father would like to hear all about it. He always enjoys hearing stories about your diplomatic exploits.” Platinum’s eyes brightened as she stepped out of the water and waited for Clover to dry her hooves. “Oh, yes, you’re right, darling, right as ever. No wonder Star Swirl calls you ‘Clover the Clever’. You know how to say exactly what needs to be said; nothing more, nothing less.” Clover’s mouth twitched as she set the towel aside. When royalty came as simple as Platinum, it wasn’t hard for any half-intelligent pony to find what she wanted to hear. The pair of mares walked towards the dining hall, two offset clopping rhythms as Platinum led and Clover followed. It was but a short walk to where the food lay prepared and waiting, but Platinum took the time to admire the myriad portraits and antiquities filling the castle as she passed. What splendor the Unicorn Kings of old had amassed! Adding to that wealth and helping it grow was a rite that every ruler of the Diamond Kingdom was expected to faithfully execute throughout their reign. One day, when Platinum became the first Queen to single-hoofedly rule the entire Kingdom in well over a hundred years, she would do more for that horde than any other ruler before her, and she would make her name legendary. Was it too much to ask for a little recognition? The table in the Great Hall was absolutely filled with food. Rich loaves of bread, leafy layers of lettuce, and crunchy stalks of celery all tempted Platinum with their sweet aromas. The entire staff of the royal family was eating well, seemingly oblivious to the famine outside. Platinum was no different as she quickly trotted over to take her seat by her father’s side. Her plate was filled with lettuce and rhubarb, cobbled with a side of potato—her favorite! How she was ever going to eat all this food, she had no idea. “Ahem…” The cough stopped Platinum from digging into her dish, and she smiled and turned to face her father. King Lapis IV was an impressive unicorn with a flawless sapphire coat and thick fur around his fetlocks that gave way to reveal over two inches of solid hoof on each leg. His mane was a pure, dark blue in his youth, but as age took its toll it had slowly turned to white. Even his eyes were a light shade of steel blue, and they were filled with an alert and observant energy as he looked at his daughter. But there was pain in them, and a glance towards his forehead revealed why. His horn, once a sleek and powerful thing that all in the Kingdom wished to behold, had become gnarled and blackened. Open blisters and scabs slowly oozed blood, despite the unwavering attention of his servants to keep them clean. Whatever feats of Arcana that horn had been capable of performing long ago were now lost to Lapis forever. “The Scourge of the Kings” the doctors called the sickening disease that deformed a once powerful ruler and afflicted him with such pain. Despite their best efforts, there was nothing they could do to cure it; in fact, they had never been able to cure it in all the disease’s storied history. The Scourge had stricken many of the most powerful of unicorns throughout the centuries, but cases amongst the poor were almost never heard of. It fed on Arcana, thrived on pure power, and left behind only a horn that rotted on its owner’s head when it was finished. Many believed the Scourge to be a curse placed upon the royal family, likely the doing of King Electrum when he looked into the future and saw things that should never had been known to him or the Kingdom until their appropriate time. “Father!” Platinum began excitedly as she leaned over and embraced the King’s neck. “You look better than ever! The Scourge appears to be receding, by the looks of it.” It was a lie, so painful and blatant that Lapis saw through it. He raised a hoof to his rotting horn, and it came away with small spots of red and black blood on its shiny surface. “I appreciate your efforts to comfort me, my daughter, but I am well equipped to deal with whatever the harshness of reality throws at my head.” He grunted as his aged spine cracked and popped with his stretching, and he clenched his teeth around a stalk of celery to give his muscles something to release their pain on. “I have lived on this planet for no less than sixty-nine years, and I have ruled for forty-seven of them. Bad news has been a part of my life for as far back as I can recall. I am no stranger to misfortune, so if there is more to be had, please speak it.” Platinum cringed under her father’s glare, and she quickly occupied her mouth with salad as she prepared to break the news. When she swallowed and realized that Lapis’ stare had not faltered, she coughed nervously into her hooves and tugged on the curls in her tail. “The meeting was… less than productive, father.” The King’s face failed to twitch in surprise, and whether the action was comforting to Platinum or not, the mare could only guess for herself. Exhaling, Lapis leaned back in his regal chair and tapped one hoof against the wooden table. The corners of his mouth were overcome with a twinge on occasion, but he remained silent. The lack of a reaction frightened Platinum the most, and she was grateful when Lapis finally began to speak. “I see. That is rather unfortunate. But the shipments of food, they continue as planned?” “Yes, father, I made sure that the deliveries were confirmed for the next month.” “And the Cirrans, they devised a stratagem to clear the skies of this infernal blizzard?” “It was difficult to get them to cooperate, but yes, they—” “SILENCE!” the King roared, sharply cutting his daughter off. He lowered his aged face towards Platinum, his nostrils flared wide in anger. “I am not yet old enough to be lied to, Platinum. You made no such plans; you betray yourself with your own words. I know Hurricane; if the Cirrans could not clear the skies in the first days of the blizzard, then it is undoubtedly beyond their control. Brute force is their stratagem, and when it failed them, there was nothing, and absolutely nothing, that they could possibly do to fix it.” Grabbing his plate with his hooves, he held it aloft for Platinum to see. “And you assure me that the shipments of food will come on time, just like you assured me that River Rock has enough food to last the winter. But not half an hour before, I find out from Archmage Star Swirl that the city is starving, and those who were barely scraping by in the weeks before the blizzard have nothing to go on now. The Guard also reports the first hunger-related deaths in the surrounding countryside from the tenants who work the fields. And yet here we are, feasting on food that we could not possibly hope to finish by ourselves!” Lapis’ anger was not something to be trifled with, and Platinum felt herself cowering into her chair as he leered at her. Setting his forelegs on the table and placing his head between his hooves, the King sighed and chewed on his lip. “Will there be another meeting between the nations, one that perhaps I could attend instead of an incompetent diplomat?” “We parted on not particularly hospitable terms, father. The other races will not work with us anymore, and neither shall we.” “Humph. You disappoint me, Platinum. I knew I should have sent Star Swirl in your place.” Platinum could barely make out the drab coat of the archmage on the other side of the King’s regal body, but she could tell he was trying to appear disinterested in the conversation. Lapis leaned forward and cut off her sight, forcing her eyes to travel to his face. “Since you have already masterminded the plans for the Diamond Kingdom’s destruction, perhaps you could engineer its salvation?” Platinum sucked air through her teeth and tapped on the table nervously. The farms were destroyed for the time being, the food would run out within a month, and she couldn’t trust the other two tribes to help out. Naturally, that left only one possible, logical conclusion. “We could move somewhere else.” The words were spoken, and as much as Platinum wished she had sent that idea to the pits of Tartarus when everypony’s eyes fixated on her, she had to stand by it now and defend it. “I mean, the blizzard can only reach so far. The lands here are essentially dead for however long it lasts, and we don’t know if it’s going to end. We could move somewhere else without the earth ponies and the pegasi and claim rich and fertile lands to thrive upon!” Rather than brush off her suggestion as foalish, Lapis actually rested a hoof under his chin and considered it. “That is a very… interesting proposal, Platinum.” Reclining in his seat, Lapis began to nod slowly, then with more vigor. “Very interesting. Actually, I think that could work.” Platinum smiled and began to dig into her food. Now that that was over with, it was time to finally enjoy her meal— “And I think you should lead the expedition.” Partially-chewed lettuce and other foodstuffs flew from Platinum’s mouth faster than any diving pegasus could hope to travel. After sailing the short distance across the table corner to where Clover was sitting beside her, the salad struck the unfortunate mare’s face with such velocity that it caused her to topple out of her seat. Sputtering and wiping the saliva from her chin, Platinum turned her shocked expression towards her father. “Wha-wha-WHAT?!! Father! Surely, you jest!” “I never jest, Platinum.” Turning to his side, he whispered a few sentences to Star Swirl, to which the archmage nodded. Returning to Platinum, he wrapped a goblet in his hoof and held it before himself. “Your failure to save the Kingdom diplomatically forces me to have you save it through other means. Since finding new lands was your suggestion, it would only be right for you to fulfill it.” Platinum grabbed her mane with her hooves and pulled. “But why, father?! Why would you do this to me?!” Lapis only chuckled and sipped the wine in the goblet. “Because you are no use to the Kingdom in any other way. No matter what tasks I have assigned you to do in the past few years, you have failed every one, and blamed it on others. Perhaps you will learn something to prepare you for sovereignty.” “But father…” “If you do not do this, then you will be disowned. Your position and inheritance will be forfeit, and I will find an heir better suited to take the throne when I die.” Holding the empty goblet out in front of him, he flipped it on its head and set it on the table. “And that is final. Clover will accompany you. Now, make ready for your journey.” The King and his pages all rose from the table and left to retreat deeper within the castle, leaving Platinum, Clover, and Star Swirl behind. The Princess took several more bites of her meal before stomping off to her private quarters. “The nerve… honestly…” she mumbled to herself as she left. Clover was about to follow her princess, but a rough cough from the end of the table stopped her progress. Turning to see where Star Swirl was gently setting a goblet down on the edge of the table, she trotted over to him at his summons. “Yes, Star Swirl? What is it?” Star Swirl smiled and beckoned for her to walk to the windows with him. The archmage was already in his late seventies, and every step was a slow and painful process for the elder unicorn. But despite that, Clover admired his age instead of being appalled by it. How many miles had those withered limbs trotted? What sort of wonders had his eyes seen in his life? To live to such an age, and in such health, too, was something that the mare dreamt of. The windows overlooked the entire city, and Clover gasped as she looked down on it. Hundreds of snow-covered rooftops were arranged in neat lines within the borders of the city walls, each with its own little plume of smoke rising out of the valley and into the sky. The clouds had barely parted down the middle to reveal the slightest trace of the stars beyond, letting their faint light illuminate the land below. It was an impressive sight, and Clover knew she would remember it for the rest of her life. Star Swirl pulled his pipe out of his cloak and began to draw on it. As he released fine rings of smoke into the air, he smiled and sadly shook his head. “I suppose that this is our last lesson, Clover the Clever.” Clover’s ears perked, and she turned a questioning glance to her mentor. “What do you mean, Star Swirl? I’ll only be gone a month.” The archmage laughed, a wheezing sound as feeble lungs drew weak breaths around the smoke he inhaled. “That may be, Clover, but what happens when you come back? Even if the Diamond Kingdoms find lands elsewhere, you still have to move there. And that means walking hundreds, if not thousands of miles to do so. Frankly, I’m too old to make such a journey.” “But… but master…” Clover blinked several times to clear the tears building in her eyes. Star Swirl was like her father, raising her from a young age when her mother died and her biological father disappeared into the night. She loved the old stallion deeply and with all her heart, and to hear him say things like that was wrenching the young mare’s soul. Wiping away the tears in her glistening eyes, she turned to face him, pleading. “There’s still so much left to learn…” Star Swirl smiled softly and wrapped a foreleg around Clover’s neck, pulling the sniffling mare closer to his side. “I know, Clover, I know. But even now, in the prime of your youth, you know much more about magic than I did at your age. There’s much more out there that I can’t possibly teach you, and it’s up to you to find it for yourself. Let the sun and stars guide you, Clover the Clever, and be ever vigilant in your travels.” Stepping back, he planted both of his forehooves on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Bring back something to teach me, hm?” Clover inhaled sharply to calm herself and nodded. The archmage then embraced her again, moving his mouth close to her ear. “No matter what Platinum thinks of you; no matter what you think of your life to this point, know you are more than just a poor servant to royalty. I can sense it in you; the spark of knowledge, the everlasting passion to learn. You are not called Clover the Clever without reason. You’re the smartest, brightest mare that I’ve ever had the honor to teach. And I know that in your heart, you know what’s best. Follow your intuition, and do not disregard the power of friendship. The world may be founded on hate, but it is guided and shaped by love. Where there is love, there is prosperity. Let it be your duty to bring the fire of friendship with you wherever you go.” “Clover!” Platinum shouted from down the hall. The two unicorns were forced to end their embrace, and Star Swirl nodded for his apprentice to go. The green mare began to trot away, before stopping and turning to her mentor one last time. “Thank you, Star Swirl. For everything.” Then she disappeared around the corner, her tail swishing one last time before it disappeared from sight. Star Swirl sighed and wiped a tear from under his baggy eye. Then he drew on his pipe once more, gently blowing out the smoke as he watched the silent city below. ----- Smart Cookie paced the floor for what must have been the tenth time that week. He was currently walking from wall to wall in Chancellor Puddinghead’s office, stopping every so often to look out the window or at some little trophy that the frivolous stallion kept to decorate his space. As far as the Representative could tell, there was no paperwork on Puddinghead’s desk, nor had their ever been, and that was the way he preferred it. The less direct input that the Chancellor had in the affairs of the Low Valleys, the better. But that still didn’t mean that the Chancellor was not a necessary part of Smart Cookie’s life, for better or for worse. The stallion was fairly decent at inspiring morale for the usually down-trodden earth ponies, so long as nothing political was involved. The times when he did insist on involving himself in politics, things had a tendency to fall apart, fast. The Puddinghead-Platinum Accords, which the Chancellor had signed three years ago despite the protests of the Board of Representatives, had ceded ten percent of the Low Valley’s lands to the Diamond Kingdom in return for what amounted to little more than regular imports of trinkets and baubles that Puddinghead found to his liking. At least Smart Cookie, as Chairpony of the Board of Representatives, had been able to limit the damage after the fact. Smart Cookie sighed again and adjusted the feather in his hat. Puddinghead was definitely not like his father, the beloved Chancellor Muffintop who died several years back from pneumonia. Muffintop had actually earned his position, and was a magnificent politician to boot. His participation in the Tri-Pony Compact had played off of Cirra to strengthen the Low Valleys against the economic domination of the Diamond Kingdom and had staved off the eventual annexation that the Kingdom was bound to attempt at some point. It was exceedingly unfortunate, however, that Muffintop let nepotism cloud his judgment, and his dying wish was for Puddinghead to take over as Chancellor once he died. Being the popular politician that he was, Muffintop’s last wish was faithfully executed, and in the chancellorship Puddinghead had stayed for four years. There was a thump and rumble that seemed to emanate from the chimney, and Smart Cookie quickly straightened his collar and trotted over. Sure enough, soot fell from the brick, along with two brown hooves. The Representative sighed and placed a hoof to his temple. No matter how many times he thought he had seen it all, Puddinghead always found a way to surprise him. As the brown stallion dropped out of the chimney with a thud, Smart Cookie coughed and waved away the soot and dust. The Chancellor had effectively ruined his formal political garb, and with all the rivers frozen over and firewood running low it would be a long time before the clothes were cleaned and straightened out again. And Puddinghead would expect him to find some way to clean it just so he could ruin it again. It drove Smart Cookie to absolute madness. He was the Chairpony of the Board, for Celestis’ sake! Why was he treated like a lowly secretary?! Realizing that the Chancellor was staring at him with a goofy smile, awaiting the response that his entrance was sure to generate, Smart Cookie could only cough and put on a bored expression. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to use the door, Chancellor?” Chancellor Puddinghead stood up from the piles of ash and char he had been sitting on to adorn his face with his trademark brain-dead smile. “Maybe for you, Smart Cookie, but I am a chancellor! I was elected because I can think outside of the box!” Taking a step back into the fireplace, Puddinghead drove his head straight into the lower bounds of the chimney. “Which also means I can think inside the chimney! Can you think inside a chimney?” Smart Cookie pulled his eyes to the corner of his vision and angled his head. “Uh… I—” “I didn’t think so,” the Chancellor smugly interrupted. He strode past Smart Cookie with an air of superiority and began to shake the soot out of his mane, taking the time to make sure his hat was in perfect condition. Smart Cookie sighed and walked towards the window looking out over Mane Street. “So what are we going to do now? It’s not like the meeting got anything important done.” “Well, those other tribes are just no-good selfish good-for-nothings!” Puddinghead fumed. “I mean, we tried to get stuff done with them in our own town of Amber Field, and what did they do? The commander of the pegasuses and Princess Paladin spent the whole time insulting each other, while I did my best to be reasonable!” Rolling his eyes, Smart Cookie turned to address the politician. “With all due respect, your chancellorship, I don’t really think that you were doing all that hot yourself in those meetings.” Puddinghead’s face twisted into an expression of the painfully obvious. “You don’t say, Smart Cookie! It was awfully cold in there! I definitely could have used another coat.” Smart Cookie sat down in one of the chairs opposite the Chancellor’s desk and placed his hooves under his chin. “I mean that you didn’t make much progress with the others on the topic of the blizzard or the food shortages. Just what exactly do you plan on doing about those, anyway?” A blank expression dominated Puddinghead’s face, and his head slowly began to list to the side as he thought at a painfully lethargic rate. Just when Smart Cookie was about to check if the Chancellor was still with the living, the brown stallion inhaled sharply and drew an enormous smile to his face. “Oh my gosh! Hold on to your hooves, Smart Cookie! I am just about to be brilliant!!” “That’d be a first,” Smart Cookie muttered under his breath as he avoided the Chancellor’s ecstatic features. “Please, do tell what it is that you’ve come up with, your chancellorship.” “I have decided that the Low Valleys are going to go it alone!” Puddinghead leaned back with a hoof in the air, perhaps half-expecting fanfare and applause for his obviously ingenious idea. Smart Cookie failed to supply it for him. Instead, the Representative seemed to droop from his stance and emit a low moan. “You mean you aren’t even going to try to repair relations with Cirra or the Diamond Kingdom?” “Nope!” Despite being slightly put-off by the lack of zeal on Smart Cookie’s part, Puddinghead maintained his usual happiness and flair in his answer. Smart Cookie growled in frustration, but he remembered to put at least some control into the action to keep it from offending the Chancellor. “But Chancellor, I was banking everything on being able to work with the others! Tartarus, we might still be able to recover some of the damage done in that last meeting if we could just talk again and actually develop some plans for how to deal with the coming months! Who knows how long this blizzard is going to last?” “Pssh, don’t worry about them, Smart Cookie! We don’t need them anyways! We’re the ones with all the food, remember?” “Uh, Chancellor? We’ll be out in about a week. We won’t be able to grow food again for at least two months, if not more, depending on the weather. Now, I know that schooling wasn’t really your thing, but I trust you understand enough about arithmetic to know what exactly that means.” Puddinghead scratched his chin. “Hmm, I see what you mean. Oh well, then we can stop shipping out food to the other tribes. It’s not like they can do anything about it, right?” The Representative rolled his eyes and pointed out the window to the north, where the distant spires of Cloudsdale were barely visible on the low horizon. “Chancellor, you do realize that to the north we have Cirra, and to the south we have the Diamond Kingdom. Do you really think it’s wise to anger the two nations that actually have a military force?” “What, don’t we have a military of our own? I thought I had told you to get on that, like, two months back.” “That may be, but it takes time to train a standing army. If you had told me to do that two years back instead of vetoing every resolution that the Board passed to raise our own military, we might have a force to hold our own against the Diamond Kingdom, even without magic. But even if you did, we couldn’t stand up to the Legion with five hundred-thousand soldiers. Even if we allied with the Kingdom, their Diamond Guard might provide numbers, but the Legion is built on skill. Ten thousand of their soldiers do the work of twenty or thirty thousand Diamond Guard. And right now, we pale in comparison with about fifteen thousand poorly trained soldiers against nearly a million Legionnaires spread across Cirra’s holdings, and in our own cities as well. Tell me, is that something that we want to go up against?” It took an uncomfortable amount of time for Puddinghead to consider the facts, and Smart Cookie was worried that the Chancellor was going to stand by his original plan and risk getting the Low Valleys wiped out by their rivals. Luckily, the inane earth pony saw reason and managed to come up with some form of a compromise. “Well then! If we can’t stand against them, then we’ll just have to go someplace else! Somewhere with rich and fertile lands, where we can grow whatever we want! Somewhere where we won’t have to deal with the other tribes pestering us for our food all the time!” Moving to the door, Puddinghead opened the capitol to the snow outside. “And with me as our fearless leader, what could possibly go wrong?” Several feet of snow avalanched into the building, burying Puddinghead until only his hat remained visible above the drift. Smart Cookie groaned and placed a hoof to his head, squinting as he fought down the headache that he invariably received when dealing with the Chancellor. “Where should I start?” ----- The air in the palace was much warmer than the surrounding skies, even without the use of firewood. Hauling timber up to Cloudsdale was a difficult enough process in the summer months, and with most of the trees surrounded by four feet of snow it was impossible to cut them down. With the additional burden of timber supplies from the Diamond Kingdom being cut off by the snowfall, Cirra had to resort to burning Empatha to produce heat for its homes. It was through this technique that Imperator Cyclone had been able to heat Hurricane’s palace, and pairs of guards patrolled the halls with their wings ablaze to warm the air. Hurricane could feel the frost begin to melt off of his feathers as soon as he shut the door behind him. It was always comforting to return to the palace, even if it was not the one he had ruled within as Emperor so many years ago. Still, that there was some continuity from the Cirran Empire of twenty years past to the surviving remnants of the day always helped ease his thoughts. Soldiers of all ranks and divisions saluted him as he walked past, and Hurricane briefly acknowledged each one’s presence with a flick of his ears. Two Praetorians opened the doors to the throne room for him, and Hurricane climbed the short flight of steps that led to his seat where he presided over all of Cirra’s holdings. There, the ponies whom he wanted to talk to most were waiting for him; Swift Spear, Twister, Cyclone, and Typhoon. He paused for a second before speaking, trying to predict their reactions and prepare a defense for his argument. He needed to do this. Cirra had no other choice, and their continued existence hinged upon Hurricane’s plan. “I’m flying west,” he began. “To find new lands for Cirra. We can’t survive here for much longer, that much is certain. We’ll only die a slow and painful death from hunger and the cold. If we can move someplace warmer… we might stand a chance.” There was brief silence before anypony spoke. “But why you, Hurricane?” Swift Spear pleaded. “Surely you could send somepony else in your place. Cirra needs you here to guide them through these dark and troublesome times, not soaring through uncharted skies far from home.” Hurricane shook his head. “Twenty years ago, that may have been. But despite our appearance, Cirra has grown stronger since then. I now have ponies capable of leading in my absence, and perhaps do a better job at it than I. Swift,” he said as he ran a hoof through her mane, “I trust you to handle things for me more than any other pegasus in Cirra. In fact, you already do. I would not be able to get through the week if you didn’t help take care of the more sensitive political matters. Use what you know from your youth in Stratopolis, just like you always do, and you’ll get through this just fine.” Twister grunted, but the expression of annoyance was insincere. “And what about me, you big oaf? I do more work than the both of you combined, even if I don’t know hilt from blade on a sword. Don’t forget that I helped you draft Cirra’s terms in the Tri-Pony Compact, even if I was only seventeen at the time.” Hurricane smiled and nuzzled Twister’s neck. “Of course, Twist. You know that I value your presence every day of my life, especially since what happened twenty years ago.” “Well, no need to go reopening old wounds,” she said softly, with a remarkable change of tone. “What happened then is done, no matter how much it hurts. I don’t oppose you going on this journey in anyway; in fact, if anypony was to do it, it would have to be you. A government holds no legitimacy if the first in command is not the first to try and solve their nation’s problems, even if that means putting your neck out on the line. You, Cane, you’re a regular at it; every time you lead the Legion into battle, every slash of your sword through an opposing commander’s neck, you put the Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys to shame. And now, while they’re bickering amongst themselves, you’re going to go out and work for our future.” She sighed, and stared forlornly out the western window. “In a way, I envy you. To travel and adventure has always been my dream, and even if I’ve seen more of the Compact lands than anypony else, there’s always more to see and do.” Giving her brother a hug, Twister leaned against his shoulder and embraced the cold armor on his back for all it was worth. “I remember all those years ago, when the Legion called for you to go fight Gryphus, and how we parted on that rainy day in Zephyrus. And now, though the griffons are far from here and war threatens us no more, here you leave again. Please, please be safe, Hurricane. You’re the only family I have left.” Hurricane leaned back from Twister and returned his forehooves to the ground. “What about your own family, Twist? Your husband and foals?” Twister punched Hurricane’s shoulder and shook her head. “You know what I mean, Cane.” Nodding his head, Hurricane glanced at his hooves. “Yes, I do. Never forget that though they may be gone, Mom and Dad live on through us.” “I’ve never forgotten, and I never will,” Twister whispered as she stepped away from her brother. Hurricane then angled himself towards Cyclone and Typhoon, and nodded approvingly at their posture and attention. “It seems like just yesterday that you two were foals. To see you grown up, it warms my heart. I could not have asked for better children.” He glanced over to Swift Spear, who was faintly smiling from his side, before continuing. “It’s a funny, though tragic, thing that the Red Cloud War drove so many families apart, yet it brought your mother and I together. And now, twenty years since then, I see two of the finest pegasi Cirra has to offer, born to lead and inspire their soldiers from the skies to the earth which we return to. You never met your grandfather, Thunder Gale, but I can say that he’d be damn proud of you two. Just like I am now.” Hurricane stepped closer to Cyclone, glancing at the red stallion’s shoulder plate and the weighty insignia it bore, gold etchings on a background of onyx and skysteel. “While I’m gone, you have full reign over the Legion, Cyclone. But you will answer to your mother, and direct them to best accomplish her orders.” The black pegasus sighed, and his eyes wandered off to late nights that only he knew of, nights that he and a map alone shared. “Power does not come easily, and directing the entire Legion will be a difficult task, but I see the tactician’s eye within you. Perhaps learn to curb your anger a bit, and you may find that it comes naturally.” Cyclone nodded and draped one wing across his chest while holding the other out and straight. It was highest level of salute, and usually reserved only for the emperor in the days of old. The action swore fealty to the commanding officer, and promised that failure would be amply repaid with the soldier’s wing. Although the salute itself was hardly used since the Exodus, Cyclone felt it to be appropriate with his father trusting him to execute so great a responsibility. He would not fail Hurricane, and he would work to better Cirra in his absence. Acknowledging the salute, Hurricane then walked towards Typhoon and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Typhoon, I’m especially proud of you. No other Legionnaire has climbed through the ranks as fast as you did, and you deserve your positioning. Watching you fight and practice is mesmerizing, to say the least.” Typhoon’s ears flicked, but she refrained from interrupting her father. “Although Cyclone may have control over the Legion, I want you to help him. Balance each other out, and make sure that rashness is checked by a level-head, and planning be executed with fervor.” Typhoon likewise nodded and offered her wing to the Commander as Cyclone had done. Once again acknowledging the motion, Hurricane turned to address his family as a whole. “I will return within one month, letting my wings carry me as fast and as far as they can in that time. If I am not back by then, carry on without me, for though I may have cheated death in the past, it will catch up with me eventually. My only request is that Cirra remains united and strong upon my return. Everything else, handle as necessary.” Giving one last salute to his family, Hurricane glanced towards the stained glass at the back of the throne room. There, just like throughout much of the palace, was a depiction of Silver Sword, this time in his final stand in Stratopolis. It gave Hurricane strength and inspiration, and the weary pegasus brought a small smile to his lips as he walked away. The throne watched in silence as he disappeared out the doors, with Swift Spear close behind. For Typhoon, it only signified the beginning of what she knew would be the hardest days of her life. She glanced out the window, where the winds blew ever westward, ready and waiting for the mighty stallion that would conquer them and save his ponies. And she knew that he would conquer them, and he would save his ponies, for no better reason than that he was Commander Hurricane, last emperor of the Cirran Empire. > Chapter 6: Sky Above, Wind Behind > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 6: Sky Above, Wind Behind The sun was barely crested over the dim eastern horizon by the time Hurricane was ready to embark on his journey. His family stood around him on the western wall of Cloudsdale, silent and clad in the best vestments they owned. Even then, there would be no ceremony for the departure of Cirra’s mighty leader, and that was the way the Commander liked it. There was a light dusting of frost on the cloudstone blocks of the wall, but the wind was quickly and efficiently blowing it away. Hurricane felt the wind pulling on his tail, urging him to leave Cloudsdale behind and begin his journey. But there was still much to do. Twister walked up to him first. The robe draped over her shoulder fluttered around her body, but a well-placed pin near her flank kept the fabric down. Her onyx cuirass, which Hurricane knew she despised wearing as she was no part of the Legion, was polished with incredible patience and persistence that even some of the top Praetorian lacked. The wreath of gold feathers that she wore around her head pricked Hurricane’s ears as they embraced. “Fly till your wings can carry you no longer, and then fly some more,” she whispered to him. “The weight of Cirra rests on your shoulders, as it has for so long under your rule, but I know there is not a stronger pony in the world to bear it. Make Cirra proud, make the Gods proud, and make yourself proud. You have more reason to be than most other ponies.” Hurricane nodded as they separated, and Twister stepped back to allow Imperators Cyclone and Typhoon to approach their father. They each carried a share of Hurricane’s equipment, which they set at his hooves. Bending down to shoulder his gear, the Commander muttered a quick “thanks” and strapped the bags to his flanks. Before he could stand up again, he felt Typhoon’s warm embrace around his neck, even as their respective armors clanked together. “Thank you, father,” the young mare murmured to Hurricane. Loosening her embrace just enough for Hurricane to raise his head back to full height, she trained her magenta eyes on Hurricane’s own magenta irises. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for Cyclone and I. We may have had tough lives, what with all the training and everything, but I don’t regret it one bit. I’m proud to call you my father, not because you’re the leader of Cirra, but because you’re the greatest stallion in the entire world.” Separating, she held Hurricane’s sword out before him. “Find Cirra a new home.” Cyclone had nothing to contribute other than a stiff nod and a salute as Hurricane strapped the scabbard to his side. Fire burned in his eyes, the passion of a soldier eager to prove himself, ever-ready to show his father that he was able to lead Cirra if the call to do so fell on his shoulders. He was determined to not only maintain, but better the nation in Hurricane’s absence, and he would start by giving the Commander Maximus a proper sendoff. Finally, Swift Spear’s hooves brought her to Hurricane’s side. Giving the straps of his saddlebags a quick onceover to make sure they were tight, she wrapped her forelegs around her husband’s neck and brought him close. The two remained locked in embrace as the snow swirled through the air and into their manes, until Swift leaned back to gaze lovingly into Hurricane’s eyes. “Are you sure you have to do this alone?” The question took on a pleading tone, despite the stability and strength the mare weaved into the sentence. Hurricane only held her tighter, wrapping his black wings around her blond body. “I can fly faster and farther than anypony else. Time is of the essence, and you’re needed more in Cloudsdale. I would love to bring you along; nothing breaks my heart more than leaving you behind. But Cyclone and Typhoon are still young, too young to take over a nation at a time like this.” His eyes wandered to the east, and a cool chill ran down his spine. “Believe me, I know what that feels like. That’s why Cirra needs you. Besides, I’m just one pony. I’ll raise a lot less attention in the wilds by myself, and I’ll be back soon enough.” Despite the hurt that she felt in her heart, Swift knew in her mind that what Hurricane spoke was the truth. “Okay, Hurricane. I believe in you. Just please be safe. Don’t put your neck on the line when there’s no need to.” Hurricane kissed Swift’s bare forehead and nuzzled her mane. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry. I love you, Swift.” “I love you too, Hurricane.” Reluctantly ending their embrace, Hurricane tightened down the saddlebags fixated to his armor and flexed his wings. He carried with him little more than a canteen for carrying water and several hunting knives along with his sword. Being a pegasus, he did not need a map to navigate, and other than a few loaves of bread he brought no food with him. Eating meat was something he had no qualms about, unlike the unicorns or earth ponies, and he envisioned resorting to the hunt for most of his meals. With nothing else other than his own resolve to accompany him, Hurricane saluted his family one last time, trotted towards the edge of the walls around the city, and dove. The wind whistled past his ears as he fell, and Hurricane could feel the air shrieking through his mane, despite how much the helmet covered the short, steel-blue hairs. Snow and gales buffeted his body from every angle, threatening to put the pegasus into a tailspin, but still Hurricane kept his wings tucked against his sides. Only when the pressure in his ears told him he was little more than three hundred feet above the jagged highlands below did he open his wings, feeling the air tear through his feathers as he slowed his descent and converted his momentum into a westward slingshot. There was a good tailwind, a byproduct Hurricane could count on with the perpetual storm raging over the Compact lands. Tilting the tips of his wings in opposite directions, he spiraled once, twice, three times as he ascended back up to a cruising altitude. In the frigid air, his feathers formed tiny contrails of ice crystals as he glided, the patterns wrapping around each other like ribbons from his wings. Hurricane smiled as he looked back over his shoulder at them. No matter how old he would live to be, the art of flight and love for the sky that was such an inextricable part of the pegasus soul would always be calling to him, not satisfied until he threw his emotions to the wind and embraced his natural instinct; fly high, fly far, fly fast. At ten thousand feet above the surface of the earth, the world spread out beneath Hurricane like a map of grand proportions and infinite detail. To the north, the blue sea stretched on towards the pole, its shores choked and clogged with glaciers and icebergs. The sheer amount of snow and ice that the storm had produced in not even a week was already sliding down the mountains by the ton, pushing massive glaciers out in all directions that gouged the land before them. To the south, the holdings of the Low Valleys and the city of Amber Field were barely visible under the snow that clogged the land. Ramshackle farmhouses sent forth little plumes of smoke, almost like cries of distress for help against the blizzard that continually assaulted them. Even farther behind Amber Field, nestled amongst several rocky spires sharp cliffs, was Castle Burning Hearth and River Rock. Hurricane took the time to twist his wing towards the structure, cursing the princess he knew resided within. Behind him, Cloudsdale was quickly receding back into the eastern horizon. The massive spires of cloudstone were becoming engulfed in the blizzard, the snow and clouds obscuring the city more and more as Hurricane flew. First the low-lying residences melded into the gray, then the walls, followed by the three story houses within. The last thing to disappear was the mighty palace, standing tall and defiant against Grabacr and demanding that the God come and finish Cirra himself if he wanted to extinguish the fire of the pegasus race. With a low sigh, Hurricane lowered his helmet farther over his brow to cut the wind from his eyes and stroked his wings with renewed vigor. Far before him, the frosted plains glittered in the early sunlight, leading Hurricane on through low fog and snow towards a ridge of distant mountains on the far horizon. Unlike the mountains around Cloudsdale, however, these rocky projections bore no snow on their tips. It was all the evidence Hurricane needed to see that the storm did not stretch on forever. Relaxing his pace and feeling the wind slice around his bladed wings, Hurricane set his sights on those distant mountains. The spires were at least a three day’s flight away, and the last thing the Commander needed was to burn through his energy before he even arrived. Food would be hard enough to come by, and he didn’t want to tire himself out and strip his ability to hunt effectively. Smiling, Hurricane found his rhythm and located the altitude with the best tailwind to help him on his journey. Then, humming to himself the tunes of an empire long lost, the pegasus locked in his course and began to make headway towards the mountains, where the salvation of his ponies lay. ----- The glittering snow nearly blinded Clover as she opened the doors to Castle Burning Hearth. The sun had found a small opening in the sky, which would probably last for barely a minute before the storm swallowed it up again. Still, the sheen produced from all the ice and snow in River Rock and focused onto the mare’s face was almost enough to set her mane ablaze. Dozens of pounds of equipment and gear were fixed to Clover’s sides in her saddlebags or hung from canvas loops, the tools clattering against each other and her flanks. Much of it was useless clutter, or in other words, Princess Platinum’s personal baggage. Expensive dresses, makeups and perfumes, and other fashion items dominated a large portion of the limited space Clover had on her back for hauling. At least she had dissuaded the Princess from bringing other, heavier items, such as the solid oak and velvet couch she loved to lounge in. Platinum, on the other hoof, bore only a heavy coat over her royal garments to block the wind and a light burlap sack for carrying food in. Two canteens hung around her neck, one considerably larger and more decorative than the other. The Princess had insisted that she be the one to watch the food, claiming that ‘somepony responsible’ should perform that duty. Clover, however, knew that if that were the case, she would have been the one carrying the rations, not Platinum. The wind nearly pushed Clover back into the castle as she tried to exit, and only the weight afforded her by the equipment she bore on her back anchored her to the stone floor. As soon as there was a lull in the gale, she and Platinum strode out of the doorway and onto the main thoroughfare, where they were greeted by a loud blast of trumpet fanfare. Platinum had gone all out on her departure ceremonies. A division of Diamond Guards flanked the streets through which she and Clover walked, their diamond halberds firmly planted in the snow and ice with thin, purple tassels fluttering off of the tips of their weapons. Banners and flags of the Kingdom had been hung from every street corner, celebrating the heroism of the Princess who humbly put aside her royal vestments to venture out into the wild and find the unicorns a new home, one in which they would be able to prosper without the meddling of the other two lowly tribes. But despite the expenditures and pomposity of the affair, crowd turnout was minimal. Most of the nobles preferred to watch from their windows, sheltered with the safety and warmth of their houses. As for the poorer unicorns, they simply didn’t care, and Platinum was happy that they were absent anyways. Even with the apparent power that the city put on display for Platinum’s departure, it was still all too clear that the blizzard was taking its toll on the Diamond Kingdom. Several of the poor that did actually show up to the procession shivered under the winds, their expressions and features haggard from starvation and disease. The nobles on display were more lethargic than usual, and they moved as if they had every intention of conserving whatever calories they could. Even among the members of the Diamond Guard, many of the smaller soldiers looked absolutely miserable under their armor, their eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep likely brought on by the crippling famine. There was a great rumbling from the southern gate as the sentries began to raise the impressive wooden structure for Platinum and Clover to exit through. As they neared the looming tower, the Diamond Guard began to break off to the sides and assemble in their regimental formations, saluting their princess as she passed. Clover, who had been trotting to keep up with Platinum as a result of the burden on her back, almost ran into the white mare as she slowed down before the exit from the city. The Princess knew that once she left, the gates would ultimately shut behind her, barring her return into River Rock until she provided proof that she had found new lands for the unicorns to settle in. So, taking one last, deep breath of River Rock air, the Princess and her companion set their hooves outside of the city walls and began to follow the snow-laden valley to the south. Platinum stopped and stamped her hooves against the snow twice before shrugging her shoulders and staring at the high valley walls. Releasing a frosty breath, she shook her purple locks and mumbled a string of shaky words. “Well, Clover, I guess this is it. So, which way should we go?” Clover pulled a rough map out of her saddlebag and held it before her with her magic. Gently undoing the seal, two separate bands of light-green aura stretched the parchment apart. “This valley continues south for several miles before opening up into the Sapphire Lake. From there, we could probably climb through the highlands and make our way westward. There’s uncharted territory beyond the strait, which I imagine is frozen over by this point. If we’re going to start looking for new lands to settle, well, that’d be the place to start.” Brushing some snow off of her hooves, Platinum put a weak smile to her lips and began a slow canter along the banks of the frozen river. “Good. Well, let’s get to it, then. The sooner we find this new land of ours, the sooner I can get back to River Rock. I miss the castle already.” As the Princess led the way, Clover grunted under the weight of the equipment she bore on her back and set off after her. If she could just make it to nightfall, she might be able to ‘lose’ some of Platinum’s spare luggage. Losing the Princess, however, was something that she wouldn’t be able to do, despite how much she wished she could. It would have been a long journey under normal circumstances, but having to accompany Platinum would make it longer, both physically and emotionally. Even with that, she sympathized with the mare’s desire to return to the castle, although for different reasons. There was much more knowledge in the library that Star Swirl owned than what she would find in the frozen wastes, not to mention what was within the confines of the stallion’s mind itself. A frosty gust of wind forced its way under her hood, and Clover had to yank it back down with her magic. Celestis, how she wished she had a book to read. ----- Smart Cookie groaned as his hooves struggled to gain traction on the snowy expanse to the west of Amber Field. The packs on his back weighted his every step, and the frost and ice covering the hills was not kind to his burden. Twice he had slipped and fallen to the bottom of the hill, forced to start over again and hope that he might be able to get to the top. Amber Field was still only two miles behind him when he finally crested the hill and paused to catch his breath. Puddinghead stared at him, a bored expression dominating his brown features. “Jeez, Smart Cookie, took you long enough to get up here. I thought I was going to freeze to death in the meantime!” The Representative groaned and set his gear on the ground next to Puddinghead. “You know, if you helped out a little, your chancellorship, it would be easier for the both of us to get to where we needs be going. We’d already be at least five miles out by now if I wasn’t the only one carrying the equipment!” Puddinghead scoffed and fiddled with his hat. “Now why would I ever do that, Smart Cookie? I am a Chancellor, so I shouldn’t have to do any work! That’s what servants are for, right?” The orange stallion ground his teeth as he unloaded more of his burden onto the hilltop. “Chancellor, you’re not a royal! The unicorns have servants; here, you’re an elected representative of the Low Valleys!” Smart Cookie used the term ‘elected’ lightly, knowing full well that no such election occurred when Puddinghead came to power. In fact, elections were due to be held at the summer of the coming year, and the Chancellor was likely to be voted out of office faster than Smart Cookie could drop his hat. Speaking of hats, the Representative planned on throwing his into the ring when those elections came around. “So? I deserve to be! The Low Valleys love me enough, anyways.” That was blatantly inaccurate, as Smart Cookie knew all too well. Even the departure ceremonies that they had concluded not two hours ago had shown that to everypony except the Chancellor. All that planning thrown to the wind, and what a waste of a good night’s sleep it had been! The ceremony had opened quietly enough, with a small rally outside the capitol where Smart Cookie made a few quick speeches. The Representative knew his way with words, and he had managed to pitch optimism and morale into the populace of Amber Field by praising the resiliency of the earth pony spirit and suggesting that the Low Valleys held more cards in dealing with the other races than one would think. There was something he had never seen on their faces in a long time; hope and optimism. The Low Valleys would be okay. The earth ponies would survive. Smart Cookie thought he had even felt the wind stop howling as he spoke. Then came Puddinghead. Roughly dressed and obviously on a sugar high from some stash of maple syrup he had found, the Chancellor promptly made a fool of himself, of the entire earth pony government, and of the Low Valleys in general. His speech of garbled and meaningless words dragged on for hours—Smart Cookie couldn’t remember the last time somepony had managed to string ‘like’ together fourteen times in the same sentence—and all the work Smart Cookie had put into inspiring the population was dashed to pieces. When that abominable display of leadership was finally over with, Puddinghead tried to turn the rally into a massive party, with himself as the central character. It took much urging from Smart Cookie and the Board to get the Chancellor to calm down and get organized for the departure. Then, quietly and behind the scenes, Smart Cookie guided Puddinghead out of Amber Field before he could cause more trouble. Much to his chagrin, however, he found himself stuck with the inane Chancellor and burdened with his equipment. A silent and bloodless coup, that’s what it was. The rest of the Board had tried to get him and Puddinghead out of the way so that they could campaign against them while they were gone and unable to defend themselves! So when Puddinghead suggested that the Low Valleys absolutely loved him and that he deserved to have Smart Cookie as a servant, the Representative had to sit on his hooves to stop himself from ripping open his own ribcage and gouging out his eyes in response. Instead, he shouted into the wind and collapsed onto his back, flailing his limbs in frustration. Puddinghead, completely oblivious, failed to notice anything wrong about the Representative’s actions. Trotting over to retrieve the map from one of Smart Cookie’s saddlebags, the Chancellor held the furled piece of parchment before him as if he were observing a new species of creature. After twisting and rotating the item in his hooves several times to ascertain how it worked, he quickly unfurled the paper and held it up to his face. Lines. Nothing but lines. He couldn’t even see where he was going, either! Earth pony cartographers really needed to step up their game if Puddinghead was going to continue to trust them. Really, how could nopony think of how one was going to see if they held the map in front of their face? Holding the map against the ground, Puddinghead punched three holes through the parchment, tearing off the excess paper on the other side and tossing it to the wind. Then, taking two clothespins from another satchel, he affixed the map to the brim of his hat. The first attempt was only marginally successful; he had attached it sideways, and could only see out of one of the holes he created. The second attempt was much better. Now he could see where he was going and talk, all while keeping the map to his face! Puddinghead giggled at his own brilliance. He needed more ponies like himself to help him out. The Representative had vented enough of his frustration to clear his head, having soaked his coat with the frigid snow he floundered about in. Rising to his hooves, he took several slow and deliberate breaths to calm himself. In through the nose, hold for five seconds, out through the mouth, hold for another five seconds. Everything was going to be okay. He would get through this, one way or another. He turned back towards the Chancellor, ready to tackle the next hill. Puddinghead was smiling at him through the remains of the map. “Well, come on, silly hillbilly, we got a nation to save!” Smart Cookie put his hooves to his head and screamed. ----- The stony walls of the valley were slowly descending as the frozen river began to open up to a frozen lake. As the cliffs lowered, the trees grew in height, until soon Clover and Platinum found themselves in the middle of a forest of evergreens. The snow hung perilously from their wide boughs, and every so often a large collection of ice would tumble to the ground in a nearly silent fwhoosh. The soft twitter of cardinals and other winter birds in the branches made the walk a pleasant and refreshing experience for Clover. “This is taking forever! My hooves are killing me! How long have we been walking for?” Well, almost pleasant. Clover delicately bit her lip as she pushed aside a thicket of brambles to reveal the distant spires of Castle Burning Hearth, barely visible beyond several winding valley walls. “Only about an hour, your Highness.” The Princess huffed and began walking with her head down. “Ugh! I never imagined finding a new land would be so hard! But it will all be worth it. Don’t you agree?” Clover rolled her eyes as she started to follow. “I actually think that the three tribes could have tried harder to—” “Stop!!” Platinum wailed, pulling her hoof towards her chest as she drew back in alarm. “What’s wrong?!” Clover shouted, galloping towards the Princess’ side. She scanned ahead, looking for something that could cause the white mare such distress, but she saw nothing. Surely it couldn’t be something insignificant like… …a tiny stream, barely more than three feet wide. Clover glanced at her princess, then back at the stream, before settling on Platinum again. “Um, Princess? That’s just a stream.” Pointing to the stepping stones that bridged one side to the other, she brushed her rags around her flanks and stepped on the first of the rocks. “We can cross easily, see?” Platinum turned her nose up at the suggestion. “I refuse to get my gown wet. I have no intention of arriving at my new land like a bedraggled earth pony, or worse yet,” she shuddered, “a rough-and-tumble pegasus! I, for one, will not stoop down to their level.” Glancing over her shoulder, a sly smile crept onto her lips. “On the other hand, I have no trouble watching you stoop down. Come on, chop chop! We don’t want to be late!” Clover groaned and set her gear down on the opposite side of the stream before crossing back over to retrieve Platinum. Squatting down, the green mare allowed the Princess to mount her back, carefully lifting her and her expensive robe off of the ground. Straining to hold steady, Clover began to cross the stream. “And do watch the gown, darling. It’s worth more than all the books in your library.” Reaching the opposite bank, Clover bent down to let Platinum hop off of her back. “It’s actually Star Swirl’s library, you know.” Platinum simply huffed and began walking onwards again, not bothering to wait while Clover collected their things. “Honestly, what does it matter? It’s not like all those spell tomes would be of use to me, anyways. I prefer more classical works from the likes of Coltuthus, or perhaps even Neighto. All the works of the classic philosophers, not complicated magic studies.” Clover grumbled under her breath as she reassembled her burden. She was surprised the Princess could even read at all. Several more miles of walking through the forest brought them to the edge of Sapphire Lake. True to its name, the waters sparkled in a deep and perfect blue, seemingly undisturbed by the blizzard that had frozen over its main tributary. Clover paused to test the air, pulling her hood down and letting the breeze glide past her horn. The winds had certainly slowed down the farther they travelled from River Rock and the other pony tribes. Could that mean something? Without further evidence to test her hypothesis, the pistachio mare had no way of telling. Instead, she and Platinum began to navigate the banks of the lake to find a suitable camping spot. Darkness was beginning to fall on them, and even though it was still midafternoon the sky had blackened almost to a twilight-like state. The birds were beginning to return to their roosts, and the lake was growing quiet with the stillness that preceded night. Clover breathed deeply, allowing the serenity to loosen her muscles. Even the Princess had stopped her whining and seemed to be enjoying herself. The two mares found a suitable spot to set up camp on top of a broad, flat stone set a short distance back from the shores of the lake. Being in a better mood, Platinum was willing to help gather tinder and kindling for a fire while Clover began to set up the tent. Gently humming an improvised tune to herself, Clover leisurely erected the shelter, her light-green Arcana helping to pull the cords taut and stretch the firm canvas between the poles. It was actually a relaxing job when she didn’t have to worry about Platinum standing over her back and commanding her around. The Princess returned shortly afterward with a large bundle of twigs and sticks she held in her light-blue Arcana. Setting the bundle down in a natural divot in the rock that would serve as their fire pit, the daughter of Lapis then proceeded to peruse through the contents of her luggage until she found her bedspread. Setting the spread within the tent, Platinum claimed her space and went to sit on a log outside, near where Clover was beginning to start the fire. “I do say, Clover darling, this is turning out to be a fine night after all.” Platinum chirped as Clover managed to force the twigs to accept the sparks she provided them. Within a few minutes, the mareservant had created a crackling fire to warm their hooves by. As darkness took hold of the land, the sky also opened up, revealing innumerous constellations that stretched on towards the infinite. Laying on her bedspread, which she had placed next to the fire, Clover traced several with her hoof. “Gemini,” she mumbled to herself, recalling the names of the starry patterns. “Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Leo, Orion.” Platinum glanced over from where she was sitting, one eyebrow raised. “Did Star Swirl teach you those?” Clover laughed softly and nodded. “Oh yes, the constellations were some of my first lessons. He loved the stars in the night sky and wanted everypony he could teach to share that love with him. I mean, his name is Star Swirl, for Celestis’ sake.” She smiled softly, looking closer at some of the intricate designs. “Although I believe currently, the better phrase would be ‘for Lunis’ sake.’” Even Platinum quietly chuckled. “Right, right. Doesn’t old Unicornian mythology say that the stars are the roads to the Summer Lands? Where all unicorns go when they die?” “Yes, and a similar belief is held by the earth ponies,” Clover added. “They believe that the more good that you do on Earth, the more connections between stars you form. Do enough good, and you’ll have an unbroken path to the afterlife. Do bad or evil, and you have to hitchhike your way there, essentially. Or you could just end up in Tartarus.” “What about the pegasi?” Platinum questioned, suppressing an involuntary shudder at the name of her most hated rivals. “What do they believe in?” Clover scratched her head as she tried to remember the lessons Star Swirl had given her a few years back. “Yeah, they believe in something else entirely. I remember, Star Swirl had me devote an entire month to studying various bits and pieces of their culture, their mythology. They’ve been separated from us and the earth ponies for who knows how many years, and it shows in their beliefs. For example, they believe each star to be a soldier that has died in battle, or an ancestor remembered with honor. Their greatest officers and emperors are the brightest stars in the sky, lighting the night to protect their homeland from surprise attacks.” Studying a spiraling galaxy high above, Clover brushed her mane with a hoof. “They even have different gods than us.” Platinum huffed and leaned back on her makeshift seat. “Oh believe me, I know that. Religious and cultural tensions were some of the biggest sources of conflict between the pegasi and the other tribes when they first arrived. Why, you must have been only five or six at the time, and I was nine.” “I can only imagine, but it’s calmed down a lot since then—or, at least, enough so that it isn’t a major cause of conflict. Technically, they believe in the same gods we do—the heralds of day and night, who we know as Celestis and Lunis, they call Celeste and Lūn—but they have a lot more. There are gods for almost everything: Mobius, the god of mercy, Garuda, keeper of the Great Skies, Grabacr,” her eyes shifted towards the cloud mass to the north, “the god of storms. I think they have something like thirteen or fourteen major gods, and then a whole pantheon of lesser entities.” Platinum whistled. “However do they keep track of them all? I’m sure it gets incredibly complicated.” Clover sat up and stretched her back. “It would seem so, but I guess it just isn’t to them. From what I gather, each pegasus devotes themselves to a specific god of their choosing from the pantheon. I know that Commander Hurricane, for example, is a follower of Mobius.” She let out a happy sigh as she worked the tired muscles of her limbs. “Still, one’s chosen god is their own business in pegasus culture. To each their own, I suppose is the best way to put it.” The white mare nodded and let out a lengthy yawn. “Whew! That’s all very interesting, Clover dear, but I’m afraid I shall be needing my beauty sleep. Wake me in the morning, and maybe we’ll have another pleasant day for hiking.” Clover nodded and wished her princess a good night, but she stayed up longer to look at the sky. She must have laid there for two hours before she finally felt the need to relocate within the tent and the warmth it provided. Carefully gathering up her bedroll, the pistachio mare began to trot over towards the canvas structure but stopped before entering. Something in the distance caught her sight. It was difficult to make out across the fog rolling in over the lake, but she thought it was a light. Waiting several seconds longer, she was able to catch a glimpse of it through a lull in the fog. There definitely was a light coming from the opposite shore of the lake, and it looked like it was coming from a campfire. A rather large campfire, too, which she could see several small figures darting across. Oh well. They were probably just other hikers or explorers, or perhaps traders returning with exotic goods from the southern shores. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to investigate… Clover stopped herself as she let out a loud yawn. It was getting late, and she shouldn’t bother with that sort of thing when she was this tired. There was always tomorrow for investigation. Tonight, though, she needed to get as much sleep as she could for the next day’s journey. Gently opening the flap, the green mare made her way into the tent, settling into her warm bedroll. Drawing the cover shut with her magic, she let out a quiet yawn and made herself comfortable, leaving the fire burning outside to light the night until it burnt itself out. ----- Hurricane began a slow descent towards the forest below when the sun was little more than an hour from retreating behind the western mountains. Holding his wings to the sides, the black pegasus used the tailwind to coast for the better part of a mile until he landed in the middle of a clearing surrounded by tall pines on all sides. Taking a brief trot as he landed, the Commander arched his wings over his back and worked on loosening the muscles for the next day’s flight. The last thing he wanted to do was forget his cool-down and have to try to fly with cramped wings. There was little to do except gather some firewood and eat before retiring to the safety of a nearby tree to spend the night. The wind blew softly through the trees as the pegasus scoured the immediate area around his camp for dangers. When he found none, he set about bringing sticks and branches back towards a circle of rocks he made to hold his fire. Amassing a sizeable portion of wood, Hurricane dipped his wingtip into the center of the pile and ignited it with a burst of Empatha. The heat began to instantly melt the snow around the campsite, and Hurricane had to clear a place to sit with his wings. With the fire crackling behind him, the pegasus stood up and grabbed his hunting knife, fluttering into the trees to stalk prey. Pegasi are well adapted for hunting, and Hurricane was exemplary at it. Silent wings carried him from treetop to treetop much like an owl, and his eyes were similarly just as sharp. Even in the dim twilight, the pegasus could see tiny animals scurrying around in the snow and undergrowth. Several large rats dug at the roots of trees while scrawny squirrels ventured out of their holes for one last nut before retiring to sleep. Many white-coated rabbits, surprisingly fat for this time of year, scurried from bush to bush, hoping to stay out of sight. It was the rabbits that interested Hurricane most, and he followed a trio of the creatures from above, careful to cushion his hooves as he jumped from branch to branch. When the rabbits finally stopped under a large berry bush, the hunter found a limb to inch out from until he was directly over their heads. Using his wings to stabilize himself, the pegasus rotated until he was hanging from the branch with his legs, his neck craned downwards and his knife pointed directly at the skull of the fattest rodent. Twisting his wings in preparation for the roll he would have to perform as he fell, Hurricane silently released his grip on the tree branch. His knife sailing straight and true, Hurricane drove the blade into the rabbit’s brain, killing it instantly. The other rodents were so startled by his sudden appearance that they flinched before attempting to flee. Hurricane was thus able to twist one wing and decapitate another rabbit with his wingblade before it could escape. The last of the three rodents disappeared into the undergrowth to his left. Smiling, Hurricane picked up the two kills and trotted back to his camp, the orange glow of his fire lighting the way through the trees. Settling down in front of his fire pit, Hurricane placed a bowl full of snow over the fire to get some fresh water while he worked on skinning his two kills. The rabbits were cleaned with expert precision, with not a tendon of meat going to waste. Hurricane had cleaned kills hundreds of times back in Zephyrus, and the motions were as familiar to him as strapping blades to his wings. Placing the two rabbits on spits, Hurricane quickly seasoned them with some salt and charred the meat to his liking. The aroma made his mouth water with anticipation, and he nibbled on some of the bread he brought with him to placate it. When the rabbits were finally done, Hurricane took the spits away from the fire and bit into the meat. It was moist and tender, with just the right amount of seasoning. The Commander laughed aloud as he swallowed the first bite. It had been a long time since he had meat. The mountains around Cloudsdale offered poor hunting, and he simply didn’t have the time to go any farther when he was Cirra’s ruler. That, and the Compact stipulated that the Cirrans would refrain from hunting on the lands of the other tribes, who considered the consumption of meat to be one of the greatest sins an earth pony or unicorn could commit. Finishing off his meal with a splash of water, Hurricane filled his canteen and spread his wings by the fire to capture its heat. His feathers separated slightly, allowing the warm air to become trapped within their bristles. After half an hour of staring into the fire and collecting heat, Hurricane stood up, kicked snow over the pit to extinguish it, and flew towards the top of the largest pine in the area to get some shut eye. With his wings and the warmth they contained held tightly against his sides, sleep quickly found the weary pegasus commander and took him for her own. Unfortunately, she did not have him long. The snap of a twig quickly alerted the pegasus, trained to wake at the slightest sound from months of sentry duty during the Red Cloud War. Careful not to reveal his position, he loosened the latch on his sword and leaned out precariously from the crook of the branch he was resting in. There was a small light wandering around his clearing, waving back and forth from the mouth of the pony who carried it. That it was a pony, Hurricane had no doubt in his mind. Whether it was a pegasus, unicorn, or earth pony was another matter entirely. If the intruder wasn’t alone, Hurricane had to know what kind of company he would be going up against. Sliding out of his makeshift nest, Hurricane began to hop from branch to branch as he descended towards the ground. The pony had found his fire pit, letting out a little ‘oh’ as he did so. The lantern then swiveled from tree to tree, searching for any sign of the resident. That the glow of the lantern was fixated at the tops of the trees instead of at the bottoms gave Hurricane a clue that the intruder knew whom he was looking for. Despite that, the pony was not very aware of his surroundings. Hurricane set his hooves down on the opposite end of the clearing from the intruder, then slowly began to stalk him. The light the lantern shed from its sides revealed a set of armor along the pony’s flanks and back, as well as a sword and a large axe affixed to his flanks. A small glimmer of light that curved around his sides revealed the presence of bladed wings. Knowing that he was dealing with a fellow pegasus, Hurricane adjusted his approach accordingly. The Commander was barely more than two tail lengths from the pegasus when he leapt. The intruder heard hooves leave the ground, but was too slow to avoid the tackle of the larger stallion. The two figures rolled across the snow as Hurricane struggled to pin down his opponent. Despite the size advantage he had, he found it difficult to hold onto the squirming pegasus, and he had to knock back wings aimed for his face or neck several times. When he finally grappled one of his opponent’s wings into the crook of his arm and had the other roughly pinned with a hoof, Hurricane was able to grab the nearby lantern and reveal the identity of the pony he subdued. A short, amber mane atop a terrified yellow face greeted him, and Hurricane quickly loosed the pressure he had been exerting on the stallion’s neck. “Pansy?! By the Gods, what are you doing here?” Scrambling off of the private’s armor-clad figure, Hurricane helped Pan Sea to his hooves and brushed the snow from his shoulders. “I-I didn’t mean to s-sneak up on you or a-anything, sir,” the diminutive pegasus stammered, averting his gaze from Hurricane’s face. Releasing a sigh, Hurricane sat down on the snow and gestured for Pan Sea to sit next to him. “It’s alright, Pansy. Just tell me what you were doing out here in the first place. Why did you follow me all the way from Cloudsdale?” Pan Sea shuffled his hooves nervously as he sat in the snow. “Well, I was on patrol around Cloudsdale’s western border, Commander, when I saw you dive towards the ground. I thought you had a death wish or something, the way you were plummeting. But then you turned that momentum into an impressive launch towards the west, speeding off like you were on a mission.” Again, Pan Sea bit on his lips in anxiety and shifted his position on his haunches to something more comfortable. “I’ve seen a lot of the countryside in my time on the weather patrol, so I know a lot of what’s out there. I’ve never been far to the west however, and, well, when I saw that was where you were going… my colt days got the better of me.” Hurricane chuckled softly and shook his head. “So I assume you wanted to be an explorer when you were younger?” When Pan Sea nodded, Hurricane briefly smiled before continuing. “Hmm. I don’t blame you. Altus was a small town from what I saw, even in the hour I spent there before… well, you know. So, you came all this way just to do a little exploring, eh?” “Um, y-yes, Hurricane, sir. I mean, that was my intention originally, but then I realized I hadn’t cleared it with my superior officer, and then I realized that if I came back I would have been tried for desertion. So… really, I kind of didn’t really have any other sort of choice but to follow you. Sorry.” “No, Pansy, it’s quite alright. But while I am technically doing what you would consider exploring out here, most of it is going to be from the air. I’m trying to find new lands and skies for Cirra to relocate to, since the Compact lands have gone to shit in the past week. Grabacr’s determined to wipe us out if we stay, and we’ve already survived one scrape with extinction. I need to minimize our second encounter if we want to live.” Sighing, Hurricane shook his head. “And that’s why I’m out here, Pansy. If you want, I could write you a note to present to Imperator Primus Swift Spear that would pardon you from any accusations of desertion, and you could be on your way home.” Pan Sea seemed relieved, and nodded his head. “Oh, that’d be much appreciated, Commander. I wasn’t prepared to be flying through the wilderness anyways. I mean, I just have my Legionnaire’s equipment, plus this axe.” Raising his wing, Pan Sea revealed a skysteel battle axe of incredible quality, even if the stratus head had seen some use. Hurricane raised his eyebrow and inspected the weapon more closely. “This… this is some incredible craftsmanship, Pansy. Where did you get this?” Minutely detailed Cirran carvings decorated the surface, including the letters SPQC. Senātus Populusque Cirrus. The official seal of Cirra and the Legion. Taking out the axe, Pan Sea set it on the ground for Hurricane to look over. “Oh, this? Why, I found it at another campsite not too far from here.” > Chapter 7: Dreaded Shadows > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 7: Dreaded Shadows “You what?!” Hurricane’s alarm was enough to topple Pan Sea in fear, and with good reason. For the usually calm Commander to display emotion when making a tactical decision was startling enough. For that emotion to be anger and alarm would give ponies who knew Hurricane well a heart attack. Pan Sea thought he felt his heart constrict tighter than a cloudstone matrix as the black stallion’s eyes darted between the treetops with obvious anxiety. “W-what is it?” Pan Sea whimpered. “D-did I do something w-wrong?” Hurricane picked up the axe again to check that he had seen it right. Yes, the symbols SPQC were still there, and yes, the axe head was worn from use. There were sharp nicks in the stratus blade and smaller scrapes along the length of the handle. Firewood would not damage the weapon in anyway. Diamond and gold would simply shatter under its force. The only thing that could deform stratus skysteel was harder stratus. Coincidentally, Legionnaire armor was made out of nimbostratus. That did not bode well for two soldiers of the Cirran Legion isolated in the middle of nowhere. Gently placing the axe on the snowy ground, Hurricane flexed his wings and checked that his weapons were ready. “Pansy, I need to know where you found this. Why did you even take it in the first place?!” Pan Sea gulped and shuffled nervously from hoof to hoof. “Well, um, sir, like I said, I was looking for you after you left Cloudsdale. I had tracked you to this general area, but I couldn’t see where you touched down, so I had no choice but to search the land on hoof. I came across a campsite that I first thought was yours, but it looked abandoned. Like, several days abandoned. I found that axe there, and, well, I took it. I didn’t know that was bad! Why is that bad? What does it mean?!” Hurricane placed a hoof on the jittery pegasus to quell his shaking. “Pansy, calm down, you didn’t know better. Look, I’ll tell you why that’s bad, but then we’re packing up here. You’re coming with me, like it or not. Okay?” The yellow pegasus emphatically nodded his head. “Good. Short version, we’re dealing with deserters. Long version, about six months ago, there was a riot in the earth pony province of Coal Hagen. The locals, several thousand strong, threw out the garrisons of Legionnaires stationed in the region and declared themselves independent of the Low Valleys and the Tri-Pony compact. Now, not only does Cirra get food from Coal Hagen, the entirety of our coal and onyx for making Praetorian armors comes directly from the mines the province manages. So, when Chancellor Puddinghead requested that Cirra put down the insurrection and reclaim Coal Hagen, we were already two steps ahead of him.” Hurricane had begun sprinting around the camp and gathering equipment while he talked, and he paused by the remains of the fire pit to try and bury the charcoal under heapings of snow. “Legate Streak Wing was in charge of the division I sent in. I’m sure you’ve run into the Legate a few times around Cloudsdale. He’s a survivor of the Red Cloud War, just a year or two older than me. He was on the eastern front around Stratopolis before it collapsed due to a call I made to pull back their reserves. It would have collapsed anyways with the sheer force the griffons were throwing at us, and I needed those troops for the defense of the city itself. He hates me for that, though, but he never showed it until Coal Hagen. “Twenty-four thousand battle-hardened veterans were sent in under his command to take the province—no matter the cost. Streak Wing despises the earth ponies as much as he does me, and he saw the opportunity to spite two birds with one stone, as it were. So he led his regiment into the district capital and decimated the makeshift militia Coal Hagen had managed to muster to its defense, but it didn’t stop there. No, that was only the beginning of his slaughter. Every earth pony was killed, every stallion, mare, and foal, and every building was burnt to the ground. Then, when the Legion found out about his actions and attempted to have him tried and hung, he disappeared into the wilderness with his most loyal soldiers and has been harassing our scout parties ever since.” Pan Sea’s chest was heaving as he fought back panic. “What about the other soldiers? C-couldn’t this be o-one of their w-weapons?” “No. The other soldiers were all court martialed and dishonorably discharged from the Legion for their part in the massacre. They wouldn’t be out here, because they don’t have anything to gain from it. Also,” Hurricane tapped the axe with a hoof, “this is Streak Wing’s axe. Battle axes are not standard issue in the Legion. They’re unwieldy and heavy, so pegasus military doctrine on speed doesn’t apply if you’re carrying one. Streak Wing was the only Legionnaire to carry an axe into combat.” Looking at the SPQC, Hurricane grunted in annoyance and pushed the axe back to Pan Sea. “What a bucking irony that those four letters are engraved on this axe. No soldier who fights for the Senate and the ponies of Cirra slaughters innocents to spite his homeland.” The wind picked up again, whistling through the trees with a disturbing rush of air. Branches creaked and limbs moaned, but Hurricane paused and glanced towards their tops. His ears were perked and swiveled from tree to tree, while one hoof was held in the air before his chest. The wind stopped, and so did the noise, and Hurricane quickly strapped the gear down to his sides. “We have to go,” he muttered under his breath. Once all the bags were firmly attached to his flanks he tossed the axe back to Pan Sea and began to gallop for the momentum to launch himself skyward. “What? What did you hear? Are they coming?” Pan Sea whirled in a frenzied circle, searching the clearing for any signs of movement. Finding none, he quickly fumbled with the axe before fastening it to his flank and sprinting after Hurricane. “H-hey! Wait up! D-don’t leave me here, Commander!!” The gale had increased with altitude, buffeting Pan Sea’s face and neck with sharp crystals of snow and ice. Severe crosswinds ripped along his wings, shearing several feathers from the limbs and stripping altitude with each successive blast. Flying in a storm was bad enough, but attempting to do so while wearing a relic of iron armor from twenty years past made it nigh impossible for the diminutive pegasus. With the dark skies of night, Hurricane’s black coat was dreadfully hard to locate. “Commander!” Pan Sea wailed into the night, searching for any sign of his superior. “Commander, where are you!!” There was a tap at the yellow stallion’s shoulder, and Pan Sea shrieked in fear, his wings momentarily locking against his sides and stealing several dozen feet of sky from him. Before he could fall farther, strong hooves grappled his sides and unceremoniously flung him skyward again. Pan Sea stabilized his flight to see Hurricane gliding next to him, a hoof to his lips. “Shh,” he hushed, glancing over his shoulder. “We’re being followed.” They were difficult to spot against the cloudy skies in the dead of night, but Pan Sea knew he sure as hell saw something. Gray masses of clouds spiraled and twisted among each other with the winds, but he thought several times he saw other figures flowing with them, hopping from cloud to cloud to cover their advance. Was that a glint of light he just saw against skysteel? Hurricane had already put fifty feet between him and Pan Sea, and the small pegasus had to struggle to keep up. The unnatural weight of the axe strapped to his side put Pan Sea off-balance several times, but within a few seconds he was closing on Hurricane’s tail hairs. Now, if he could just keep that pace for the rest of their flight… Something whizzed by Pan Sea’s left ear, the thin, dark shape spinning end over end as it fell into the shadows below. The sudden appearance of the throwing knife halted Pan Sea in flight, his mouth hanging open while his wings fluttered to keep him aloft. “Um… Commander…?” Hurricane flipped onto his back just in time to see a gray figure tackle Pan Sea out of the air. Only a few stray feathers lost on the wind and a dismayed shout remained as the pair of pegasi fell towards the ground. “Shit.” The Commander’s single utterance was all he had time to say before a chilling war cry descended upon him. Throwing his bladed wings to the sky, Hurricane heard them ring against the slash of a sword. Sparks from the steel fell around his face, and the pegasus flipped to drive his hind legs directly into the face of the astonished assailant. Hoof met bone with a resounding crack, and the helmet of Hurricane’s attacker flew off his head from the force. The unconscious pegasus tumbled out of the sky, and Hurricane caught its helmet. Nimbostratus skysteel glared back at him, the brow decorated with strips of cumulus. A centurion’s helmet, although the Cirran Blue plume had been frayed and repainted red. Tossing the armor out of his hooves, Hurricane descended to find Pan Sea. Screeches and shouts guided him towards his beleaguered companion, and the Commander broke through a low clearing of clouds almost immediately on top of Pan Sea. The Legionnaire had somehow wormed his way out of his attacker’s grip and was busy trying to dodge ferocious strikes from bladed limbs, lending a weak hoof punch or two towards the rogue’s exposed face and neck. Pan Sea was not a particularly strong fighter, and the bandit shook off his attacks like the frost that accumulated on his chin. But what the skittish soldier lacked in strength, he more than made up for in speed and agility. The frustrated rogue found himself unable to land a single hit on Pan Sea aside from the initial tackle that took him out of the sky. Shouting, Hurricane rammed his shoulder into the spine of the deserter, eliciting a satisfying groan of skysteel as his armor bent and twisted his opponent’s into his back. The gray pegasus shouted in agony, and Hurricane managed to grab his bladed wing against his side and twist. There was a sickening snap of bone and sinew, and the deserter immediately went limp; Hurricane figured he must have snapped the wing at the base, forcing the pegasus’ body to go into shock. Releasing the twisted limb, Hurricane let the body fall to the ground and flew towards Pan Sea. “Sir! I just… thank you… I’m—” “Shut it!” Hurricane shouted as he slapped Pan Sea. “Tighten your sword and fly through the trees! We’re outnumbered and exposed; it’s time to change the game!” When Pan Sea hesitated, the leading feathers of Hurricane’s wings crackled to life in fire. “That isn’t a damned suggestion, Pansy! Follow your orders!” Not looking to see if Pan Sea was behind him, Hurricane dove beneath the canopy as hostile shouting and whistling began to pick up around the shadowed forest. Tree branches whipped past his head and wings as he pushed himself ever faster through their tangled mess. Leaves followed his hooves in a gusty whirlwind, drawn towards the center of his flight as the air he displaced returned with renewed vigor. The shouting was growing distant behind him, but he dared not slow down. He could only hope that Pan Sea was following him close behind, for the yellow stallion’s own sake. If he allowed himself to be caught, he was good as dead. “Hurricane!!” The cry of dismay hit the Commander like a nimbus hammer to his face. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to see two bandits wrestling Pan Sea to the ground, with each pegasus gripping one of his wings. A third was approaching with his sword drawn, his eyes burning and his wings trailing real fire. Hurricane twisted his wings backwards, trying to dump the speed he had amassed and return for Pan Sea. A ferocious shout made itself audible to Hurricane a split-second before a body crushed the air out of his lungs and crumpled his wings. Several hundred pounds of skysteel and pegasus slammed into Hurricane, immediately reversing his momentum and launching the Commander backwards nearly thirty yards. Hurricane’s body whipped through tree limbs that splintered upon impact, and his face dragged for several additional yards in the dirt and snow as he slid from the impact. When he came to a rest, his face was pouring blood from scratches and from his nose, and his frayed wings were held to his sides in pain. Finding it impossible to breathe, he was unable to stand up to the troop of pegasi descending on him. “Hurricane, Commander, it has been quite a long time.” The voice came from beyond the edge of Hurricane’s starry vision, and his neck lacked the strength to turn and locate it. He was beginning to recover his breath, but he remained still, trying to hide the rapid rising and falling of his chest. He would need that surprise for later. Four white hooves entered Hurricane’s vision, the fur around the fetlocks matted and mud stained. Those limbs rose up into powerful legs supporting an off-white coat that covered the pegasus’ frame. Powerful brown eyes glared at Hurricane from under a black and red mane, but that wasn’t the rogue’s most distinctive feature. The primaries of his wings were a deep crimson in coloration, contrasting sharply with the white secondaries and bladed wing arms attached to powerful shoulders. The pony wore a heavy set of nimbostratus armor, with the decorative cumulus plates repainted a vibrant red. Intricate red war paint decorated the rest of his armor and his face, leaving the pegasus an intimidating countenance. “Streak Wing,” Hurricane spat. “How dare you attack your Commander.” He tried to stand up, but the former Legate roughly shoved him back down into the ground. Hurricane’s grunt covered up a grimace of pleasure. Streak Wing wasn’t afraid of him. Excellent. “You were never my Commander,” Streak Wing hissed. “You were once my Emperor, but even then you still lost your authority in my eyes. You’re a damned coward who hides behind stratagem to have his way. I knew the moment you came to power after Haysar’s death that it was the end of four hundred years of military doctrine. You spurned the traditions of the Empire with your rule. Hell, you finally killed it when you struck the title of ‘emperor’ from our command structure!” Hurricane coughed, leaning onto one of his shoulders. He could barely see Pan Sea sitting across the small clearing, a bandit holding onto each wing. The Legionnaire was terrified, and his lips trembled as he watched Hurricane lie defeated before Streak Wing. Hurricane wished he could communicate with him, but to do so would draw Streak Wing’s ire towards the soldier. “You wouldn’t know the kinds of choices I had to make… the kinds of choices I still have to make. Legionnaires think in terms of engagements, centurions in objectives, Legates in theaters of war. I had to manage an entire empire, Streak Wing. That not only includes its armies, but the ponies that live under its rule. I had to think of them first, Legate. You should understand. You swore an oath to Haysar, the Senate, and the Legion that you would place the lives of the innocent above your own. I understand what you went through—” Streak Wing interrupted Hurricane’s words by stomping on his jaw. “No, Hurricane, you understand nothing! You were done after Feathertop, when Haysar made you Emperor for whatever Gods-damned reason! You didn’t fight in the Heartland, where day after day we retreated and fled like terrified foals! Where every town you stopped in, you knew, you knew, that those ponies wouldn’t survive the week, because the griffons would be upon them in days! You never were forced to cast your final stand in your hometown, trying to stand up to thousands of griffons with only a few hundred soldiers!!” Streak Wing was screaming, his hooves tearing up the ground in front of him as he thundered down on Hurricane. “You never stood in your own home, trying to shelter your single mother and three sisters with a company of griffons ripping apart the door! The very walls!! And then to hear that no reinforcements, absolutely nothing, would be coming to save your family because the ponies of Stratopolis were more important…!” The white pegasus panted, his wings hanging loosely by his sides and beginning to form a coat of ice from his sadness. After screaming at the top of his lungs, his next murmured words carried even more weight than the sentences preceding it. “They forced me to watch my family die, Hurricane. The griffons held me down and ripped out their throats right before my very eyes. I can still hear my mother’s screams in my nightmares, feel my sisters’ blood pour onto my face in the rain. And it’s because we didn’t have the reinforcements needed to secure the town for evacuation. Because you kept them from us. You killed my family, Hurricane. And for that, I intend to make your death every bit as painful as my family’s, and then twice over.” Hurricane spat out the dirt and snow in his teeth, grinding his jaw back and forth to relieve the pain from the blow. “Streak Wing, it’s been twenty years. Two decades! I lost my family too, but did I blame it on somepony else?” He shook his head what little he could on the ground. “Twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge. Do you know what that can do to a pony?” Streak Wing pulled a dagger out of its scabbard and held it to Hurricane’s face. “A grudge?! A damn grudge?! This is more than a bucking grudge, Hurricane, this is vengeance, this is payback for the family you stole from me!” Taking a vial of clear liquid, he coated the blade with the solution, shaking off the excess drops. As two other pegasi grabbed Hurricane’s shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position, Streak Wing sat in front of the Commander and showed him his blade. “You know what this is? Galm’s elixir, I believe the apothecaries call it. Named after the Lord of Disease and Sickness. Really, it’s just a fancy name for poison. A terrible, agonizing, horrendous poison, but a poison nonetheless. Colorless, odorless, tasteless, and slow to act. The perfect weapon for the sadistic assassin. You want to know what they say it feels like to die from this?” Streak Wing chuckled, resting his knife on the crown of Hurricane’s helmet. “Survivors who’ve encountered only a drop or two of it can survive. They say it feels like you’re burning apart on the inside. Your organs go into shock, one by one by one. Your skin falls apart and begins to bleed. Your feathers fall off of your wings in minutes. Soon enough you’re drowning in your own blood and vomit. Then, if you’ve had too much, your lungs begin to dissolve.” Giggling now, Streak Wing placed the tip of the blade on Hurricane’s chest. “They say if you cut the corpses up afterwards, their insides are indistinguishable from meat stew. What an excruciating, painful, terrible way to go, especially for the soulless leader of a once-proud Empire.” The blade whistled through the air as Streak Wing reared skywards, and Hurricane grunted in pain as he felt the dagger sink into his chest. Streak Wing left it there, smiling as he walked over to where Pan Sea was being held. Retrieving his axe from the yellow Legionnaire’s side, Streak caressed it like a newborn before sitting down opposite Hurricane. Watching the Commander try to pace his breathing and slow his heart from delivering the poison to his body, the white pegasus laughed mercilessly and rested the pole of his axe on the ground. “Why try to delay it, Commander? I want to see you writhe in agony when the poison kicks in. Hear you pleading for me to end your life, to spare you from the horrible death the Elixir bestowed upon you. And I will laugh, and right as you choke on the remains of your lungs, I’ll drive my axe through your skull.” Baring his teeth in an unnatural smile, Streak Wing leaned closer. “I’m an honorable soldier, Hurricane. If you have any last words, I’ll make sure that your family hears them. I would not wish them additional suffering for the justice I bring down on you today.” Hurricane coughed, finding it difficult to move with the dagger lodged in his chest. His wings were tingling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the poison that was beginning to work its way through his body or the piece of skysteel embedded in his ribcage. Whatever it was, he had to trust that he could still use them. It was his only opportunity… “I don’t have any last words,” Hurricane spat, leering back at Streak Wing’s face. “And you deserve no such honor!” Before the deserters could react, Hurricane smashed his wings together and shook off the ponies holding them down. Streak Wing flinched, and the Commander made him pay for the motion with a shoulder to the chin. Blood flew from the former Legate’s nose, and Hurricane ripped his sword from its scabbard, the ethereal skysteel aimed directly for Streak Wing’s throat. Metal rang on metal, and Streak Wing rebounded one of his namesake limbs off of Hurricane’s sword, deflecting the weapon entirely. Twisting out of the block, Streak Wing aimed a hoof at Hurricane’s wounded chest. The black pegasus hopped over it, the dagger lodged just under his breastplate hindering him in no way. Spinning on his front hooves, Hurricane delivered a powerful buck to Streak Wing’s neck, kicking him back several feet. The air whistled as the sword was again brought to bear on the Legate, and the pegasus managed to catch the blade on the handle of his axe. Maneuvering the heavy weapon put him off balance, and Hurricane was in for the next strike before he could react. The sword glanced off of Streak’s bladed wing, cleaving six or seven skysteel scales from the weapon, as well as trimming several red and white feathers. Streak Wing tried to counter, but again he was too slow. Hurricane twisted under a clumsy axe swing, tripping the Legate with his hind leg as he passed. The white stallion stumbled to the ground, and Hurricane drove his sword deep into the traitor’s flank. It was not a kill wound, but it was crippling nonetheless, and the charges in Hurricane’s sword made it much more painful. Fire, ice, thunder and lightning tore across the Legate’s side, forcing him to cry out in pain. Streak Wing tried to stand and retaliate, but his wounded leg refused to obey him. Rolling away from another stab of Hurricane’s sword, Streak Wing managed to flutter to safety from across the clearing. Hurricane attempted to pursue him, but the pain in his chest came back to hit him again, along with a sensation he didn’t recognize. He was sweating profusely, rivulets of salty water pouring off of his neck and sides, and his muscles burned and writhed in agony beneath his crawling skin. Black spots decorated the edge of his vision, disappearing only to reappear seconds later. The poison was beginning to cut him apart, and soon enough it would attack his organs. The rest of the deserters had formed around Streak Wing, their weapons bared and their faces bloody. Opposite them, Pan Sea limped over to where Hurricane stood, his wingblades coated in blood and his sword clamped in his teeth. The two sides glared at each other, two Legionnaires against ten traitors. “Damn you, Hurricane,” Streak Wing spat as he looked at his wound. “Damn you and your sword of storms to the gates of hell! May Garuda spite whatever it is that you have in place of a soul to the underworld! You will die alone, in agony and alone!” Gesturing for his cohorts to step back, Streak Wing lit his coat on fire with a burst of Empatha, cauterizing the wound against his side. Although it stopped the bleeding, it could not repair the damaged muscle underneath, and the Legate was too weak to fly. Instead, he stumbled off of the battlefield, his fellow rogues supporting him as he left. Hurricane’s breathing was growing increasingly ragged as he watched them go, and he began to stumble about the clearing. Pan Sea tried to support him, but the private was hardly better off than the Commander himself; blood poured from wounds along his neck and face, and one wing was held awkwardly to the side. He tried to offer soothing sentiments and advice, but Hurricane’s ears had long since stopped working. The only thing he heard was the rush of blood against his eardrums, carrying its lethal payload to his brain. Gods, his insides were burning. Wait. Burning. Hurricane’s increasingly disordered mind recollected the events of not even a minute past, when Streak Wing had used his Empatha to cauterize his wound. Could he…? It was worth a shot, but first, Hurricane needed something flammable. His eyes scanned the clearing, seeing through what little field of view he had left. Alcohol, lantern oil, anything! They were bandits, for Mobius’ sake! There. Hurricane nearly collapsed as he tried to run towards it. Nestled against the side of a tree was a large bottle of whiskey. Releasing a guttural sound in place of a cry of joy, Hurricane fumbled with the glass container to see that it really was whiskey. Indeed it was, and a very high proof rating at that. That was good. Hurricane needed as much straight alcohol as he could get. He almost swallowed the cork as he dumped the contents of the bottle down his throat. He had lost feeling in his wings, and his eyesight was on the brink of total darkness as well. Emptying the bottle in one quick chug, Hurricane tossed it to the side, almost hitting Pan Sea in the process. The yellow stallion trotted up to Hurricane, worry and confusion plastered across his face. “S-sir? What are you doing? Are you sure now is a good time to drink? I-I mean, if you really want to, that’s okay with me, I guess, but—” “Shuzuhp, Panshee,” Hurricane slurred, his deteriorating condition making it difficult to speak. He gave the alcohol several seconds to soak into his bloodstream, as long as he could possibly spare. This would either work and save his life or it would backfire tragically and only kill him faster. Whatever would happen, it was his only shot. Hurricane squinted his now-blind eyes and gritted his teeth, focusing his energy on mobilizing his incredible Empatha reserves. He could feel the magic moving within his bloodstream, competing for space with the alcohol and poison he consumed. When he felt he was ready and his breathing was beginning to grow strained, Hurricane shouted in rage and sparked the Empatha within him. His first sensation was one of incredible warmth. Every extremity in his body, from nose to wingtips to hooves, suddenly felt like it had been resting near a skyforge for far too long. But still Hurricane concentrated, forcing more Empatha into the fire he had sparked within his own bloodstream. The second sensation was much more pleasant than the first. The burning, writhing agony from the poison slowly began to melt away, as did the fire in his gut from the alcohol. His mind began to clear and his vision began to recover. The adrenaline that had been pouring through his veins was suddenly vaporized, bringing Hurricane from a state of alarm to near calm in seconds. Then, as quickly as it began, the fire stopped, and Hurricane collapsed onto the ground. “Commander!” Pan Sea shouted, stumbling to Hurricane’s side. The black pegasus was lying face down in the snow, his wings spread carelessly to either side. But his ears twitched and his shoulders moved. He was alive. It took several minutes for the side effects of the toxin to fully clear from Hurricane’s body, but when they did, he stood up on shaky hooves. Panting, the Commander’s bloodshot eyes darted across the clearing from tree to tree. He ran a hoof across his face, his neck, his wings, checking that he was in one piece. When he found that everything was intact, he smiled. Then he laughed. Then, he stumbled to Pan Sea and gave the private a warm hug. “Alive!” Hurricane whispered to himself. “I’m alive! I can’t believe that worked!” His chuckles continued as he separated, and he fluttered several feet off of the ground. A kink in his wing arm and pain in his chest forced him back to the ground in pain, and Hurricane quickly bent down and pulled the dagger out of his chest. A quick application of Empatha was all that was necessary to staunch the bleeding. “How?” was all Pan Sea muttered as he walked closer to Hurricane, still unable to believe that he had survived. “That was Galm’s Elixir. It’s more dangerous than anything the unicorn alchemists have ever produced. You shouldn’t have been able to survive it!” Hurricane laughed again and swished his tail. “No, I shouldn’t have. But I cheated.” Smirking, he found his sword where it had lay on the snow. “Streak Wing’s quick application of fire Empatha to cauterize his wounds gave me an idea. You know how a pegasus can light themselves on fire and not be hurt? Well, I figured it had something to do with the interactions between the pegasus body and their Empatha. So I started a fire within myself to burn away the poison. I was worried that only our coats keep us safe from our own fire and that I would roast myself from within, but luckily, that wasn’t the case.” The Commander looked at his sword for several seconds before gently putting it back into its scabbard. Sword of Storms. He liked that name. He’d have to make sure he thanked Streak Wing for it before he split his neck. Panting, Hurricane took several more steps before collapsing on his side from exhaustion. “I… I think I’ll be taking a nap now. That was damned tiring. Whew.” Pan Sea trotted over and sat down by Hurricane’s side. “Sounds like a good idea, sir. What about Streak Wing? He got away.” The answer came simply enough as Hurricane felt the long awaited embrace of sleep fall upon him. “Streak Wing? That’s easy. We find him. Then we kill him.” ----- Daylight came soon enough, shedding its feeble rays through the gray skies and finally providing the first real light Clover and Platinum’s campsite had seen since the fire burnt out. The dull shadows scurried back to their sources against the dim sun rising in the east, and the first of the winter birds began to sing their lonely melodies. The music reached Clover’s ears from afar, and she looked up from the rocks she had been examining. She had already covered several million years in the fossil records they provided, and it seemed like a good point to take a break. Shuffling to her hooves, she began a quick trot along the lakeside to stretch out her muscles. Star Swirl had taught his apprentice long ago about the benefits of physical exercise to her magic, and Clover took those lessons very seriously. A fat and unfit unicorn found it harder to channel the mana needed to pull off feats of Arcana than a healthy and lean one, and Clover was certainly healthy and lean. The physical exercise widened the blood vessels leading to her brain and her horn, making it easier to collect and utilize mana for her spells. She hummed happily to herself as she trotted along, her bushy green mane flopping with her gait and the slight breeze. She needed to encourage Platinum to take up a similar regimen to prevent the decay of her own Arcana like so many of the nobles in River Rock. The Princess was gifted with a large amount of mana and had the ability to focus it better than most unicorns, but channeling it was what hindered her arcane ability. It would be a shame to let that gift go to waste. By the time the sun was halfway up in the sky, Clover figured she must have trotted ten miles back and forth along the shore. Stopping for breath, the light-green mare sat down on the pebbly beach and stared across the sapphire waters towards the distant shore. The night before, she had seen lights there. Now, she only caught short glimpses of a burnt pyre settled in a large clearing. Low-lying fog obscured the ground, so Clover couldn’t see how many tents were erected, if any at all. Even if the ponies who had camped there the night before were gone, the scholar in her demanded that she find a way across the river and learn all she could about their customs and behaviors. Standing up, the mare looked for a way across the lake. It was about a quarter mile between the two shores at the bottleneck, and with the water temperature likely just above freezing, it would be much too cold to swim across. The surprising lack of ice on the lake’s surface meant that walking there was impossible, and Clover knew with absolute certainty that walking around the shores of the lake to get to the other side was impossible. Sapphire Lake was a hundred miles in perimeter, too far to walk around. No, she needed a way directly across the surface of the lake. It took Clover’s observant eyes only two seconds to find a solution. The lake was host to a large island directly between the two shores, covering most of the distance needed to get across. The problem was the deep and fast channels of water that surged past it on either side. Trying to swim through them meant certain death, and there weren’t any bridges to cross with. Or were there? A large, dead oak lay near the shore of the river, its trunk about sixty feet in length. Easily long enough to cross the rapids, but its structural integrity was another question. Trotting over to the log, Clover tested the wood with her horn and her hoof. The bark was soggy and rotted, but the wood within was strong and supportive—to a point. Although Clover had few doubts that it would be able to support the weight of a pony going across, she had no way of telling if any of the core wood was rotted out. Plus, it looked exceedingly heavy. Clover had used her Arcana to move three hundred and fifty pounds of solid iron from the floor to the roof of a storehouse during one of Star Swirl’s strength tests, but the log was probably much heavier. To move it, she would need Platinum’s help. And Platinum’s help could not be earned, it had to be bought. Trotting back to the camp, Clover carefully bypassed the tent where Princess Platinum’s obnoxious snoring was actually causing the canvas flap to flutter. It was already half past nine—so much for an early start on the day’s hike—but Clover had no intention of waking the Princess just yet. Sneaking around the tent, the mare found the baggage which contained Platinum’s ‘personal luggage’. Rummaging through the contents to make sure anything of practical value was removed, Clover snorted as she nosed open a box of expensive pastries. Why, the nerve! Platinum was so worried about her own hunger and comfort that she stole those away from River Rock, where they could easily counter a few days’ worth of hunger for a poor family of four. Clover grunted in annoyance and slid the pastries into one of her own bags. Since the Princess had brought them along, she might as well spare them from what she was about to do next. Holding the luggage in front of her with her magic, Clover happily cantered towards the closest point along the shore to the campsite on the other side. Factoring into account wind speed, direction, distance, and air pressure with some observant estimates, the mare cocked the luggage behind her head, aligning her horn in a precise angle. Firmly planting her rear hooves in the ground, Clover reared and flung Platinum’s spare robes and perfumes across the lake as hard as she could. The saddlebags tumbled through the air end over end before impacting the opposite shore with a dull thud. Clover smiled as she noted where they landed. Okay, so she was a little bit off on the air pressure and wind speed, but her angle of release gave the bags enough hang time to clear the lake in no problem. They just landed a little bit closer to the water and a little bit farther to the right than she had intended. No matter, she would take within a twenty-five foot radius any day if it furthered her goals. Now that Platinum had lost something of value that could only be recovered by helping Clover out, the green mare returned to camp and began to prepare the morning meal, singing to herself as she did so. She was badly off-key—most unicorn composers would have thought she was singing in a different key signature—but she didn’t care. There was learning to be done, and that made the day, by default, a very excellent day. Platinum finally emerged from the tent as the smell of breakfast reached her. She immediately jammed her hooves into her ears as she heard Clover’s singing in all its majesty for the first time, her tail held tightly between her knees as she cringed in agony. Turning around from the kettle she was manning and taking notice of the Princess, Clover abruptly cut off the high note that was at least seven flats too many and ran a hoof through her mane, her green cheeks taking on a rosy color. Quickly filling a bowl with some celery and broccoli stew, she levitated it over to the still yawning Princess and shuffled her hooves across the sand and pebbles. “Uh… hi, Princess. I trust your night’s sleep was… adequate?” Platinum nodded, taking a small sip of her stew and pretending that she hadn’t borne witness to Clover’s mutilation of popular operas. “Oh, it was passable, darling. The bedrolls are obviously not quite as comfortable as what I’m used to back in the castle, but it could be worse. I could have to spend my nights sleeping in the mud like the earth ponies. Still, that’s one lesson to consider as you grow older. No matter how bad things might seem, they’ll never be as bad as they could be in the Low Valleys. Hmm.” She sipped again from her bowl, savoring the flavor as it soaked her tongue. The weather was warmer at least, probably pushing forty degrees, and that would make for good hiking. Platinum already had the schedule planned out. Hike for thirty minutes, rest for an hour and clean her mane; hike for another hour, rest for a half hour to clean her tail. Walk for fifteen minutes, then pause for an hour long lunch before continuing onward again, alternating half hours of walking with half hours of rest. Maybe by the end of the day she would be able to see her new home in the distance. But first she would have to get ready for the day’s journey, and that meant clothes. “Clover, dear, could you fetch me my morning dress? I need to change out of this formal robe into something different. I’m afraid it’s going to get ruined if I continue on in it for much longer.” The mareservant nodded and walked off behind the tent, her hooves taking on almost too-perfect of a rhythm as she passed Platinum. The Princess raised an eyebrow at it, but disregarded the action completely. Who knew what caused servants to act the way they did? It wasn’t for Platinum to ponder. “Uh… Princess?” Clover’s voice bounced timidly around the tent, reaching Platinum’s perked ears. The Princess had just finished chugging the rest of her stew in a decidedly unladylike manner, feeling safe that nopony was looking at her. She quickly slammed the empty bowl back down on the rock in front of her when she heard Clover’s voice, glancing nervously over her shoulder to make sure that her actions were unseen. “What is it?!” She asked, perhaps several decibels louder than acceptable social tone. There was a pause from behind the tent as if Clover was trying to figure out the reasoning behind the increase in volume, but her answer continued without much hindrance. “Your baggage is… gone, your Highness.” Platinum spluttered, rising to her hooves and whirling around the tent faster than she had ever moved in her life. “Gone?! What do you mean it’s gone?! It can’t be gone!! All my fine dresses and gowns were in those bags!!” She collapsed onto the beaches in dismay, her forelegs outstretched to the heavens above, asking the sun why such a thing would happen to her. “Wait, Princess! I think I see them!” Pointing with her hoof, Clover gestured across the lake to the distant shore. Platinum followed her foreleg, then pulled on her mane when she saw where Clover was pointing. “There?! How on Earth did it get over there?!” Platinum wailed, placing a hoof to her forehead in dismay. She began to pace back and forth, leaving Clover to stare at her in uncomfortable silence. “What are we going to do, your Highness?” the green mare finally chirped up. Platinum barely stopped her pacing as she considered Clover’s question, the white fur of her gown quickly taking on a browner coloration as more dirt and grime affixed itself to the hem. “Well we can’t just leave it there,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Those dresses cost thousands of bits; thousands! And they’re my favorites, too! Why, we need to find a way to cross. But how? It’s not like we have a boat or anything.” Clover took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart. “Well, when I was trotting the shores this morning, I found an island that we could use as a stepping stone to cross. There was a rotten tree trunk nearby that was long enough to get from one shore to the other. We could move that in place to cross easily!” Platinum’s eyebrows perked, and she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s wonderful news Clover. Well, get on it, will you? I’ll just hang back here and watch the camp.” Locating a leafy branch, the Princess pulled it towards herself and set about using it to sweep away as much of the sand on a nearby rock as she could, with the obvious intention of sitting on it to watch Clover try to cross the river. The light-green mare coughed into her hoof and rolled her shoulders. “I… uh, I can’t move it on my own, your Highness. It’s much too heavy. I’d need your help to get across.” “Oh heavens, no, Clover, you must be out of your mind. I am a Princess; I don’t need to do such rough and manual labor.” “It’s either you help me, or we leave your baggage over there. I can’t get it by myself.” Platinum bit her lip. She really didn’t want to do work… but on the other hoof, she really liked those dresses. It was a tough decision for the pampered Princess, and she spent several minutes thinking about it before finally making her choice. Soon enough, Platinum found herself straining alongside Clover to lift the log out of the sand and mud. A light-green aura pulled on three quarters of the log, while a withering blue aura strained on the remaining quarter. Both ponies were covered in sweat, and they had only managed to move the tree trunk several feet closer to the water. “Time!” Platinum shouted, collapsing onto the rotting wood but immediately shifting her trajectory to lie on the sand instead. “I can’t do this, Clover! It’s too heavy! Can’t you help out more?” Clover sat down next to Platinum, sweat dripping from her mane and horn. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I’m already struggling to lift most of the weight on my own. I need you to carry more if we’re going to move this thing.” “But I can’t! It’s no use! Those dresses are lost to us forever!” Platinum flopped on her back, already resigned to defeat, but Clover wasn’t ready to give up yet. Leaning down closer to the Princess, Clover pointed towards the island. “That’s how far we have to go, Princess. We’re close, we’ve moved the log quite a bit, but we just need to get it over this channel and we’ll be golden. I know you’re strong enough to do it, your Highness. I may be gifted in the art of Arcana, but so are you! I’ve seen you do incredible things with your magic. You have a lot of mana—easily as much as your father! Don’t you want to prove to the King that you’re not just another noble, you’re a royal capable of protecting the Kingdom?” Something triggered with the Princess. Platinum groaned and stretched her aching limbs skyward, but there was a determined resolve in her eyes. Scrambling to her hooves, she set her crown on the beach and shook the sand out of her mane. “Very well, Clover. Let’s see if we can move this.” Her horn sparkled to life, her blue Arcana greedily seizing more than half of the log and ripping one end out of the sand and mud with a sucking, popping noise. “Put your back into it, darling! Show me what you can do!” Clover was stunned, but that wasn’t to say that she was disappointed. Jumping to her hooves, she bent down and grabbed hold of her share of the log with her Arcana and tugged on it. Together, the two unicorns were able to free the tree branch from the sand and haul it across the channel, bridging the island and the shore. “We did it!” the young mare happily shouted, bouncing on her hooves and letting her tail and mane flop around her. Platinum smiled as well and levitated her crown back onto her head from the sand. Then she hopped onto the log and began to cross, her hooves taking tentative but steady steps across its rotting surface. “Come on, Clover, we’ve got dresses to save!” Nodding, the light-green mare bounded after Platinum on the log, carefully trotting across. When both unicorns were situated on the island, Clover led the way through the small thicket of trees, trudging around large piles of snow and other hazards. When they came to the other side of the island, they were greeted by a series of rocky stepping stones that crossed the swirling rapids to the opposite shore. They were easy enough to cross with some well-timed jumps, and soon the two unicorns were walking towards where Platinum’s baggage lay in a shallow crater near the water. “Oh, Celestis, there you are!” the Princess cooed as she rushed over to her bags. She quickly opened them up, beginning to manually inspect that all of her dresses were intact and dry. The procedure would take several minutes, as Platinum had to turn each one about several times to make sure that they were all clean and presentable. That gave Clover enough time to scour the campsite for clues of the ponies who stayed there the night before. The camp was nestled within a rather large clearing of trees that was very easily a full acre. A strong wall of pines and oak shadowed the forest beyond, and their trunks were fenced with an impenetrable mesh of bushes and brambles. Some winter berries hung from the bushes in relative abundance, their skins bright red and black. Clover would have to remember to pick some before she left. The clearing itself was floored by a sand and silt composition not unlike the campsite that the unicorns had stayed at the night before. The sand was covered in drag marks leading to the water, hinting towards the presence of canoes or other forms of water transportation. Most surprising, however, was the splash of dried blood that decorated the ground in front of the remains of the pyre. That drew Clover’s attention to the signs of habitation that littered the area. A massive pile of burnt wood easily standing five feet tall was ringed by a series of large rocks with the tops all angled inwards. Several logs made up the benches surrounding the pyre; the tree stumps they were cut from accounted for a few more. Outside the ring of seats was a wide space for tents and bedrolls, occupying a decent stretch of hardened soil and stone. Clover gleefully noted that several of the tents were still erect. Perhaps she could interview the ponies when they returned and learn more about their ways of life. She rarely got the chance to interact with other ponies outside of the castle. She only had time off once a week, and even then she was not allowed outside of the city walls. Platinum had finished sorting through her bags and was looking about with a puzzled expression on her face, one hoof supporting her chin. “Clover, darling, have you seen a… package, lying about? I know for sure that there was one within the saddlebag carrying all the dresses.” Clover had to suppress the twitching that came to the corners of her mouth as she turned back to her Princess. “Sorry, your Highness, I haven’t seen anything of the sort. All I see around here are tents and plates and…” Her words trailed off as she noticed for the first time a pile of charred white sticks. She carefully skulked closer, curiosity and apprehension fighting for control within her. With a hoof, she brushed aside a loose covering of dirt and sand that coated the sticks. Barely managing to stifle a squeal, Clover stumbled backwards in fear. A large pile of bones greeted her, obviously the remains of rodents and other small creatures. The white skeletons had been burnt and charred from a fire, and several were cracked open for the marrow within. No trace of flesh or muscle hung from their surfaces. Whatever the creatures were, they had been skinned, cooked, and eaten. “Clover, darling, what is it?” Platinum called from the shore. “Did you find anything? Like my… erm, parcel?” Clover shook her head, trying to catch her breath. “No, Princess. But I did find… bones.” She gulped once, and looked about the clearing with a new sensation of dread. Suddenly, waiting for whoever resided in this camp to return didn’t seem like such a good idea. There was a low whistle from somewhere in the woods to her left. At first, Clover thought it was a bird, but there was something off about it, like there was too much air behind the noise. A shorter whistle answered it from the right, the pitch climbing sharply towards the end before being cut off. Then there was silence. Cruel and merciless silence. Even the twittering of the cardinals in the treetops had fallen silent. Platinum heard the whistling as well, and was clutching the bag against her chest. Her knees shook and her tail swished back and forth, but her horn was fully enveloped in a strong aura of blue Arcana. Clover was likewise readied, her legs spread out and her head lowered as she tried to create an intimidating appearance. Beneath that mask and the green Arcana she projected, the young mare was searching her mind for every offensive spell she could think of. Unfortunately, her brain refused to think properly, and the mounting silence was only bringing her closer and closer to hyperventilation. “Princess…?” Clover began warily, trying to backpedal to her master without taking her eyes off of the bushes. The leaves were twitching, and dark shadows scurried between each other, disappearing from sight just before the mare could attempt to analyze them. She thought she heard a twig snap to her right. “Clover, I think it’s best we be going,” Platinum began warily. Before Clover could even nod, the undergrowth exploded with charging ponies of all colors and sizes. Clover screamed, letting loose every spell she could think of from her horn. Strikes of green Arcana scattered among the charging ponies, missing most but causing several to cry out in pain. The academic part of her mind observed that she was releasing pure mana with her Arcana rather than using it to weave spells, a simple yet brutish way for a unicorn to fight. Even then, it was the best she could do. “Run!” Clover shouted, turning tail and kicking up dust to the attacking ponies. Platinum had surprisingly dispatched two assailants of her own, flinging another skywards with her Arcana. She breathlessly nodded to Clover and began to sprint back along the shoreline towards the stepping stones leading towards the island. Clover could feel the ponies breathing down her neck as she ran, their shod hooves thudding thunderously on the sand behind her. Casting a few blinding flares behind her as she ran, Clover launched herself forward over what her ears discerned to be a frustrated dive towards her hooves and was soon caught up with her Princess. Platinum’s breathing was heavy and her gait was strained underneath the flowing gown that billowed out from behind her as she ran. The rocks were only several more yards out in front of them. If they could just cross back to the opposite shore, they would be able to take down the log bridge and prevent their pursuers from following them. “Princess, the rocks!” Clover shouted as she pulled alongside Platinum. Spinning on her hind legs, Star Swirl’s apprentice cast a few more offensive attacks at the ponies following her before completing the rotation and changing her angle for the stepping stones. They were almost there, so close… A pair of bolas flew out of the woods, entwining around Clover’s legs with frightening force and speed, bringing the mare to the ground. She snorted as her chin hit the sand and snow, causing her to inhale loose grains of sand, before she painfully flopped onto her side and slid several feet farther. Her four hooves were painfully and tightly tied together, and she desperately flailed her limbs to try and shake off the weights binding them to each other. Platinum barely had time to react before a similar fate ensnared her as well, the bolas wrapping around three of her legs and then once around her shoulders, fixing her limbs against her sides and her neck. It was much more uncomfortable than the position Clover was tied in, and the Princess wailed and struggled with her free leg and her teeth to try and free herself. Seeing the pursuing ponies rapidly gaining ground on them, Clover turned her horn towards her bindings and tried to summon a rendition of the letter opener spell Star Swirl had taught her, except with much more power. But when the spell failed to start, Clover realized something she hadn’t before from the adrenaline and shock of being suddenly trapped; intense, escalating pain, seemingly paralyzing her entire body. Her horn flared erratically, producing painful sparks of Arcana that streamed onto her face and into her eyes and rendering the appendage useless. Finding the strength to move her legs, Clover was able to observe the bolas that bound her. They were connected with a thick cord of rope and sinew from some large animal, but the weights mortified her the most. Heavy black rocks sparked with contact from her skin, and she could see them absorbing streams of Arcana from her horn and body. Star Swirl had taught her what void crystals looked like and how they behaved long ago, but she had never actually encountered them before. The experience was something she’d never forget, so long as her brain would stop hurting long enough to form a coherent thought. Her head felt like a regiment of pegasi were romping within, banging on her skull and ears with their terrible skysteel weapons. It made her want to throw up. As her captors closed around her, Clover began to bring the other significant aspect of void crystals to the top of her mind. They only affected unicorns, but neither the Low Valleys nor Cirra used them; the earth ponies simply couldn’t with how intertwined their society was with the Diamond Kingdom’s, and the superstitious pegasi condemned them as tools of the damned and sorcerers of black magic. There was only one nation that used void crystals, as much of a nation as they were. Sure enough, the sun glinted off the coats of the earth ponies that gathered around Clover and Platinum. Both mares had stopped their struggling from the pain of the void crystals and were only able to look on helplessly as they became surrounded. Heavy iron weapons were planted in the sand and snow around their necks, and the ponies began to grunt to each other in the tongue of the Crystal Barbarians. Clover tried to make out what they were saying, for their language was not much different from Equiish, but the brutality with which they spat the phrases to each other made words impossible to discern. Glancing towards each other, both unicorns widened their eyes in fear. Everypony knew that the Crystal warlords had vowed to kill every unicorn they captured until the Diamond Kingdom finally collapsed. Clover had little doubt that her fate would be different. The guttural shouting stopped all at once with a harsh word from somewhere behind Clover’s head. She tried to jerk her neck back to see where it came from, but all she succeeded in doing was sending brilliant flashes of red and purple to the backs of her eyes. She could feel her heart pounding as the Arcana in her blood reacted with the void crystals around her legs. Void poisoning was swiftly becoming a realer and realer threat for both unicorns as the crystals fed on the Arcana in their bodies. Clover squinted her eyes and began to moan through gritted teeth as she felt the energy literally leaving her through her hooves. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, the bolas were unwrapped from her legs and the cursed crystals were returned to whomever they belonged to. “Unicorns,” said a low voice over Clover’s head, the single word filled with poison and hate. Rough hooves searched her body, checking her vitals and stripping away the bags she wore on her flanks. The foreign hoof lingered on her cutie mark for several seconds before it withdrew, accompanied by a short snorting sound. “They came to our camp? Did they steal anything, or alert others?” One of the barbarians, a large stallion with a warhammer as long as Clover was tall, slammed the weapon into the ground with a thunderous force and pounded one hoof across his chest in customary Crystal Pony salute. “No, sir. We found ‘em sneakin’ about the pyre when we came back from th’ hunt. Chased ‘em down here, ‘fore you got ‘em. Best we’s could tell, they’s th’ ponies responsible for th’ fire across th’ lake lass night. Twas a small fire, right, boss? You’s the one who scouted it. Methinks they’s the only two horns here.” The lead pony grunted and roughly placed his dirty hoof on Clover’s flank again. “Good. Round up their stuff from across the lake. I see exactly who we’re dealing with here. Isn’t that right, Princess Platinum?” Two of the Crystal Ponies pulled Platinum off of the ground, each holding a foreleg in their grasp. The white mare was still panting from the effects of the void crystals, but the growl of her response was no less menacing because of it. The warlord only laughed, a powerful bass vibration that Clover could feel trembling through her body. “So I thought. You’re a long ways from home, aren’t you, Platty? Whatever are you doing out in the wilderness?” His laugh again shook the ground around Clover, and she felt herself suppress a frightened whimper in response. “Did you anger your father? Did you shame your pathetic Kingdom, you and your Celestis-damned valley, where the unicorns do nothing but sit back on their bucking flanks and act like they already rule the world?! Bah!” He spat at the ground, missing Clover’s muzzle by mere inches. “I really hope one day that the world tears you pathetic unicorns a new one, Princess. How much I wish for it to be the Crystal Ponies under my command, but Cirra is too strong. So I guess I’ll just have to settle for doing what I can with the daughter of the unicorn king. And who knows, maybe one day it’ll be Cirra who finally does you spineless whelps in.” “Cirra would never do that,” Clover moaned from beneath the warlord’s hoof. “They’re our sworn protectors… we signed a compact…” The stallion above snorted and rolled Clover onto her back so she could look into his face. A large head of white and gray fur under a similarly light-gray mane bared down on her, blue eyes threatening to wipe her off the face of the Earth with a single blink. Those eyes burned with a passionate fire, the fire of incredible hardship and loss but also of victory and plunder. Those eyes had seen life, and they did not like what they saw. Clover felt herself trembling under the hexagonal irises that burned through her coat, their unnatural polygonal shapes putting fear into her heart. Those eyes brightened with a dark anger when the warlord began to speak. “I do not recognize you, young mare. Perhaps you are one of Platinum’s servant girls.” Clover opened her mouth to answer, but the warlord slapped it shut with a hoof, leaving a painful red welt on her cheek. “Never talk when I am talking, horn, unless I give you permission to speak. Now, you must be a servant girl if you’re so naïve about how the world works. Tell me, why does Cirra protect the other tribes?” Clover coughed, her nose twitching as she tried to blow away the dust decorating her muzzle. “Because… because of the Compact?” The warlord’s face lightened, and he loosened some of the pressure on Clover’s shoulders. “Yes, because of the Compact. Little more than words on paper. A promise kept by Hurricane that Cirra would respect the rights of the other tribes so long as he lives. So long as he lives, pony. Hurricane is an honorable soldier, a worthy adversary; why, I would do just about anything to have the honor of one-on-one combat with him. But the rest of Cirra? The rest of the Legion? They may be loyal to his word, but no farther. The pegasus soul can be likened to a hawk, because in reality, that is all that they are. Majestic, graceful warriors of the sky, but they prey on the weak. They are driven by a desire for power, and they will stop at nothing to augment it in some way. That is how they founded their empire on that land across the ocean. They may be your allies today, but one day they will conquer you and enslave you, just like they did to their neighbors.” Clover’s brow furrowed and she gritted her teeth against the slap she was sure to receive for speaking out. “But Hurricane isn’t the only strong leader! His wife and his children would see to it that the terms of the Compact remain in place even after he dies! Cirra would never turn on us!” “You confuse power with honor, young mare. Politics are lost on you. I may be what you call a barbarian back in the Kingdom, but I am a strong leader, one of the strongest in the world. The warlords clamor over each other to ally themselves with me; I have an army of a hundred thousand, which I have been building for the past few years. While the majority of them may be tied down fighting the Unionists in the north and east, I still have a formidable force for taking River Rock. I am as strong as they come. Tell me, does that make me honorable? Do I obey laws and treaties?” The chief warlord shook his head. “No, it does not. Honor is something personal. It knows no codes other than the ones its owner establishes on it.” He leaned closer, hissing into Clover’s face. “The Kingdom will fall, it is only a matter of time. And Cirra will break you; that too is only a matter of time. I tested the limits of the Diamond Kingdom twelve years ago, when warlord Heavy Trot led his fiery campaign across hundreds of miles of your territory. You were on the brink of collapse until Cirra routed my armies. Do you think you can stand up to their might?” He spat again and increased the pressure on Clover’s flank. “Your Princess knows it will happen. She and Hurricane hate each other, and hate brings only conflict and death. The skirmishes between the Legion and the Diamond Guard over food are only the beginning.” Straightening his back, the earth pony watched as several of his warriors returned with most of Clover and Platinum’s provisions. Seeing them return, Platinum finally found the strength to speak up again. “And just what do you plan on doing to us? Kill us? I may be sheltered, Halite, but I know that you’re not like the other warlords. You don’t kill what you can use.” Halite seemed surprised that Platinum knew his name. “You’re more informed than I thought, Princess. I didn’t know that the Kingdom kept tabs on the warlords roaming about the countryside. But you’re right, I don’t kill what I can use.” Gesturing to some of his warriors, Halite stepped back from Clover. “Put rings on their horns and tie them up. We’re taking them back to Onyx Ridge. They’ll be worth something for sure, the Princess especially.” Clover tried to put her thoughts in order before the Crystal Ponies could put a void ring on her horn and bring back the pain again. Halite, Halite, Halite. She knew that name from somewhere. Surely it was something that Star Swirl taught her. Or was it something she looked up on her own? The archmage wasn’t particularly fond of teaching Clover about the Crystal warlords that terrorized the countryside, but he might have said something about him. Halite the something, Halite… Then realization dawned on her face as the barbarians slipped the ring on her horn. The warlord she was looking at was known as Halite Hornreaver. The warlord that destroyed an entire regiment of Diamond Guard with just a hoofful of scattered warriors. He had sent two thousand severed horns back to King Lapis after the battle, the stumps still bleeding. Halite was known for being calm on the outside, but he despised unicorns more than any other warlord. They said it was better to die than to suffer by his hooves. As the barbarians began to load up and placed Clover and Platinum in a prisoner cart, the young mare looked on at the powerful warlord and knew true fear for the first time in her life. ----- Typhoon ground a stick of charcoal into nothingness with her hoof. The burnt wood offered little resistance, collapsing under the solid force of her hoof onto the scrap piece of parchment below. She was bored, and immeasurably so. Sitting in an office was never something she liked doing. She preferred to be out on the field, commanding the troops with her cool voice and iron resolve, not sitting down and writing paperwork. It was a burden that she wished she could give to a secretary and have them do, but these were papers on deployments and requisitions. Cyclone said that he wanted them done by the end of the week, and seeing as how he was her older brother and her superior, she had no choice but to comply. She was better at the micromanagement stuff anyways, not moving grand armies across the fields and skies. Get her one on one with a suitable adversary, and she’d cut him down in no time. The mare cursed when she realized that her entire hoof had been recolored black from the charcoal she had destroyed, and she brushed the crumbs and ash off of the table. Walking to the window, Typhoon opened the glass and planted her hoof in the snow outside, using it as a substitute for a bucket of water. Wiping her hoof on the curtains, Typhoon trotted back to her chair and collapsed, sulking. Her office was, as a general rule, barren, established with only the furnishings needed for it to be considered an office along with a few other sentimental decorations. A door, four walls, a floor and a ceiling, and a desk and three chairs were all that Typhoon needed, as the office only saw sparse use whenever the Imperator was back in Cloudsdale. Other than that, a portrait of herself hung next to portraits of Roamulus and her father against one wall, and a worn suit of armor in the corner completed the room’s decorations. The armor was special to her; it was the first skysteel she had ever worn, and it was the armor she had been wearing when she got her first kill. The other armors she had worn as she advanced through the ranks she had discarded or recycled into other skysteel components rather than hang onto them. She only needed her Imperator’s armor and her Legionnaire’s armor, and one day, she might carry the armor of a Commander across her shoulders. But dreams were dreams and paperwork was all too real, and Typhoon pulled another stick of charcoal out of her supply box before bashing her head against the table. Mobius, how she hated paperwork! Folding her forelegs across her lap, the mare sent a quick prayer to the Great Skies for some of Mobius’ mercy, making sure to attach a footnote for her father’s safety in his travels. Hurricane had left little more than two days ago, but it already felt like a lifetime. Things were changing in Cirra with her father gone, brief as it had been so far, and Typhoon wasn’t sure whether she liked the direction they were going in or not. On the one hoof, some of the red tape controlling the Legion’s actions had been lifted by Cyclone (with Swift Spear’s consent, of course), allowing Typhoon to bypass some of the usual procedures she had to run through the archaic Senate if she wanted to delegate a specific division of the Legion to quelling riots as they arose, or if she wanted to place an extra garrison in an earth pony settlement to protect Cirra’s food reserves. It certainly made her job easier and made the Legion more efficient. On the other hoof, however, relations with the other nations were deteriorating, fast. The Board of Representatives in the Low Valleys had refused to accept Cirran delegates inside their borders and demanded that the pegasi close the field HQs in their towns. The Diamond Kingdoms had taken it one step farther, formally denouncing Cirra and demanding that all active duty Legionnaires be removed from their postings within Kingdom lands. Trade embargos were threatened, and Typhoon knew that Twister hadn’t slept in days with the political nightmare she was dealing with. The Imperator’s ears flicked as a draft forced its way through the windows to pull on her fur. Humph. Political shitstorm might be a more accurate term to describe it. There was a knock on her door, and Typhoon almost squealed that she had something else to distract her from her paperwork. Straightening her helmet on her desk so that the brim was pointed towards the door and brushing a few loose scraps of charcoal from her coat, the mare coughed loud enough for whoever was at the door to hear. “Come in.” The door opened to reveal Cyclone, fully armored and carrying his helmet in his foreleg. The sight drew a small smile to Typhoon lips even before she asked what he was dressed for. Whatever it was, it meant she could expect to be armored as well, and that meant no more paperwork. “We’re going to the holding cell,” Cyclone began, his voice as level and steady as ever. “That earth pony we picked up a while back, Brown Oats? He’s ready to talk, and I want to hear what he knows.” Typhoon picked up her helmet and began to strap on her armor. “You don’t say? It’s about time. We would have been able to get through this sooner if you hadn’t burnt him half to death when you tackled that Jewel guy in Blue Coat territory. Are you sure you don’t need counseling or something?” The joke sailed over Cyclone’s head, and his eyes narrowed as fast as sparks burst from his wings. “I’m sure, sister. It doesn’t matter now, the medics were able to get him patched up, and he says he wants to talk.” “Yeah, I kind of figured he would. A Cirran dungeon isn’t exactly the friendliest thing to the terrestrials.” She tightened the straps to her wingblades, then pulled a piece of parchment out from a drawer. “I just need to write a note to Twister. She said she wanted to know when we were going to interrogate the prisoner. I’ll just—” “No time,” Cyclone interrupted, tapping his hoof on the cloudstone floor. “Brown Oats said he had something important to share with us, and I want to know what it is.” Typhoon raised an eyebrow, the charcoal still held between her teeth. “It’ll only be—” “Important,” Cyclone repeated. The way he enunciated ‘important’ caused Typhoon to nod and slide the papers away. She trotted out into the hallway after Cyclone, turning and locking the door behind her. Cyclone interrogated so many prisoners on a weekly basis that he usually didn’t care one way or another what they had to say, so long as they said it. That he was getting worked up about a single illiterate earth pony in the dungeon caused Typhoon to reevaluate her interactions with Jewel so far. Just how big of a conspiracy was she stepping into? It was a short flight across the courtyard outside of the palace towards the heavily guarded dungeon entrance, but even in that time Typhoon was able to see how much the blizzard was degrading Cirra’s power. Massive snow drifts covered much of the cloudstone courtyard, with most of the walkways not even cleared. Thousands of hoofprints meandered in meaningless lines across the snow and ice, and small piles of refuse were hidden in dark corners under the snow. The servants were beginning to lose their resolve to do their duties, and the Legion was becoming too undisciplined to keep them in line. Most of the Legionnaires stayed at the barracks anyways, hoping to find some warmth from the oppressive winds and snows outside. Military rationing had extended how long the food supplies would last, but the effects of hunger were starting to gnaw on the face of the proud Legion. Hunting parties had been organized to bring back meat to supplement Cirra’s remaining grain, but the orderly structure of those endeavors was swiftly falling apart. Individuals had begun to go out on their own for food; many of them didn’t return. The desertion rate was high, but the execution rate was higher. Desertion and stealing food were grounds for hanging, and no other crimes were growing as fast as those. Snapping to attention at the two approaching Imperators, the four Legionnaires guarding the dungeon entrance opened the massive iron doors and stepped aside for Cyclone and Typhoon to enter. Picking up a lantern from the wall, Cyclone lit it with his wing and began to descend down the staircase, Typhoon in tow. As soon as her tail was past the threshold, the iron doors slammed shut behind her with a massive boom. The mare glanced over her shoulders, her breath leaving her mouth in frosty clouds. She hated interrogating prisoners. Typhoon felt her hooves sag into the flooring as she stepped off of the stairs. The dungeon floors were loosely packed cloudstone, strong enough for a pegasus to rest heavy items on but too weak to support the weight of an earth pony or a unicorn. The failsafe ensured that no escaped prisoners could ever make their way to the palace and attempt to assassinate the Commander Maximus. The cells themselves had stratus skysteel plates that covered the floors which a prisoner could stand on, but as soon as they left their cells they would plunge to their deaths from thousands of feet in the air. The simple system had insured that in the twenty years since its construction, not a single terrestrial prisoner had escaped from Cirra’s grasp. The two Praetorians walked past several prisoners, some shouting in defiance, others broken beyond hope. The former had been held for only a few days; the latter had spent at least a week in their cells. Cyclone’s interrogation tactics were brutal, and even the strongest of ponies caved when their horns were snapped in two or their limbs were shattered one by one. Buckets of waterlogged blood sat in the corners of each cell. At some point the wooden pails had contained water for drinking, but the prisoners put in as much blood as the water they took out. Typhoon shuddered as she felt her hoof slip on the edge of the walkways. Deep troughs had been carved into the floor from the cells, leading down the hall and to some back room that she had never visited. Crimson vitality trickled down the channels, its flow sluggish but hardly abating. She flattened her ears against her head as wailing and shrieks of pain came from the more active interrogation rooms that they passed. Shadows moved along the walls as Praetorians beat information out of the more stubborn prisoners, the impacts of hoof against bone resounding off the brick. Typhoon could hear teeth being knocked out and blood spraying the walls, the sounds of bones breaking like twigs. Needless violence was never something that she saw point to, and she tried to follow Mobius’ doctrine in combat of ending an opponent’s suffering as quickly as possible. Cyclone, however, never seemed to have those qualms, and he walked past the torture as if he didn’t notice it. He had never shared his religious views with Typhoon, deeming them unimportant, but the mare had a strong feeling that he was not a follower of Mobius like her or her parents. The winding halls took the two soldiers to the back of the dungeon where the larger cells were. Typhoon had been very clear with Cyclone that she wanted to question—not interrogate, question—Brown Oats in a nicer, more out of the way cell than the others. The earth pony had proved agreeable enough when she first pinned him, and she didn’t want him to regress during his stay in Cloudsdale. She would take any bonus she could to quickly get the information out of him, and not having to resort to breaking him first would save plenty of time. She was just glad that Cyclone had respected her wishes instead of ignoring them like he often seemed to do. The doors to the cell opened with a key which Cyclone produced, and the two pegasi slowly trotted into the room. The cell had a higher ceiling and wider floor than the others in the dungeon, replete with wide stratus tiling and a chair and table. A thin bed of straw lay in the corner of the skysteel floor, with a bucket of water standing next to it. A filthy latrine sat at the opposite end of the room, and Typhoon shied away from the smell. Instead, she approached the table while Cyclone roused the brown figure lying in the bed. The earth pony shambled to the table, guided by Cyclone’s gruff hoof. Half of Brown Oat’s coat was still in the process of growing back from the burns Cyclone had given him, and much of his neck and face was covered in white bandages. The chair screeched out from under the table, and Brown Oats flopped down into it, his hooves banging against the table as he sat. “Brown Oats; it’s been awhile since we last talked,” Typhoon greeted, extending her hoof. “I trust that your stay in Cloudsdale has been… satisfactory?” Brown Oats regarded the hoof held before him for a moment with a suspicious eye before visibly relaxing and shaking it. “Ya could say that, ‘suppose. Got me all fixed up after yer friend there burnt ‘alf mah coat off.” His eyes turned to glare at the stoic face of Cyclone before returning to Typhoon. “Don’t care too much fer th’ cramped livin’ space, though. Haven’t been able tah hear much ‘bout what’s been goin’ on outside, other than what th’ guards mutters from time tah time. It’s true, what they says? There’s a mighty blizzard goin’ on outside that’s got most a’ th’ tribes on edge?” Typhoon nodded her head. “Yes, there is a blizzard going on outside. The Low Valleys haven’t been able to grow any of their winter crops, and food is starting to run out. All the tribes are in danger of starving to death.” Cyclone raised an eyebrow toward Typhoon, worried that she might be giving out too much information. “Look here, mister… Brown Oats, was it? Anyways, what my colleague says is of little importance. We’re much more interested in this gang you were a part of. So far, they’ve tried to assassinate Commander Hurricane and the other tribal leaders at an important meeting held just a few days past. They’re threatening to destabilize the entire region, and at a time like this, it’s up to us, the Legion, to make sure that doesn’t happen. So, we need to know everything you know about the gang. What are their operations? Where are they headquartered? Who is their leader?” Brown Oats tensed at Cyclone’s questions and flexed his forelegs, tapping his hooves against the edge of the table. “So, th’ Blue Coats gotcha runnin’ scared, eh? Now, mister red coat, Ah don’t like ya very much. Hard questions from th’ one who burnt mah coat off. Why should Ah say anything to you?” Cyclone leaned closer, sparks beginning to fly off of his wings. “Do you have family, Brown Oats? Smugglers like yourself often do; that’s the reason you turn to smuggling in the first place. Let’s say that you refuse to cooperate here, today. Let’s say that I leave here without anything important to go on. Then, let’s say that I go to Amber Field myself to get some answers, and I happen to find a family that has a striking resemblance to a prisoner who refused to give me information. Now, we could suppose that they talked and gave me something of information, but what if they refuse? What if they’re just as stubborn as the pony who smuggles food for them from the granaries? What, Mr. Oats, do you suppose would happen next?” The earth pony was starting to tremble, and Typhoon held out a wing to gesture for Cyclone to stop. Pulling her chair closer, she gently set both hooves on the table. “Mr. Oats, I apologize for Imperator Cyclone’s behavior, but I can’t apologize for the truth to his words. Stopping the Blue Coats is very important to us, and we are willing to go to any lengths to do so. If you won’t answer our questions, we’ll have to find answers on our own. Others might have to suffer for us to find those answers. Now, I can promise you that you will be given immunity from your crimes if you cooperate with us. We can even offer you protection from the rest of your gang. But you have to work with us, or we’re all going to be in unpleasant situations.” Brown Oats’ shoulders had stopped shaking, but he still glanced at his legs uneasily. Taking several deep breaths, he was able to look at Typhoon from the corners of his eyes. “Fine. Fine, fine, Ah’ll help. Ah don’t wantcha ta hurt mah family. They’s innocent in all this, Ah swear. Ah’m th’ only one o’ them that’s involved in th’ smugglin’ bidness.” Scratching his mane, the smuggler slightly leaned back in his chair and placed a hoof to his forehead. “Ya knows that Ah’m a member o’ th’ Blue Coats. ‘Twas only outta necessity, mind you, but Ah’m a member no less. Now, we’s got bases in mucha th’ Low Valleys, but our main hideout’s in Amber Field. Our leader conducts most a’ his operations from there. Good hideout, under th’ sewers ‘n catacombs. Can’t tell ya the way in, though.” “And why is that?” Cyclone questioned, his leer beginning to sharpen. “We need to know everything—everything, Brown Oats. Every shred of information you withhold from us makes our job that much harder.” Brown Oats shook his head apologetically. “Ah’m sorry, mister Imperator, but Ah jess can’t. Jewel told us that if we ever said anythin’ about th’ hideout, we’d drop dead on th’ spot. He done worked some o’ his fancy unicorn magic into mah head when he showed me th’ hideout. Ya may be lookin’ for information, but Ah’m lookin’ to hang onto mah life.” Cyclone was about to press for more answers, but Typhoon again stayed him with a hoof. “We understand, Mr. Oats. Perhaps you could tell us the general area? I’m sure that you would be able to slip past the net of the spell that way. It would take far too much Arcana to weave a spell that broad. So, let’s go about it this way. Can you give us the names of the landmarks within a block of the entrance?” Brown Oats thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, Ah suppose we could try that. Have ya heard of Tear’s Wares? Half Mane’s elixirs is near it as well. There was an old church…” The earth pony winced, and slammed his hooves against his temples. “Rrraugh!! Ack, Ah… mah head…” Cyclone and Typhoon both jumped out of their seats and approached Brown Oats from opposite sides. The earth pony was moaning and slamming his hooves against the table in pain. Typhoon’s eyes widened in alarm, and she searched the prisoner’s body for anyway to help. “By the Gods… Cyclone! We have to do something!” The fiery pegasus was already ahead of Typhoon. Drawing his sword from its scabbard, he held it aloft, letting the blade catch the lantern light before putting it in motion. It descended with lightning speed… “Cyclone! Stop!!” …and slammed onto Brown Oat’s nose, flat first. The force of the impact sent the earth pony flying out of his chair and back into the wall with a resounding thud. Blood flew from his crushed nose, but his face was still intact. The body slumped against the wall, unconscious but breathing. Flicking the droplets of blood from his sword, Cyclone returned it to its scabbard and trotted over to Brown Oats. “Don’t worry, Typhoon, he’s still alive.” Standing up, he addressed the pair of guards that had appeared at the door. “Take him back to the infirmary, and keep an eye on him. Some unicorn messed with his mind a while back, and we’re not sure how stable he is. Keep him alive as best you can; we may need him for later.” The two Legionnaires nodded and draped Brown Oat’s unconscious figure across their backs. Typhoon watched them go before trying to wipe the thin spray of blood off of her armor. “Good thinking, Cy. Even if I thought you were going to kill him for a second.” Cyclone grunted, shifting the weight of his armor across his back. “Never kill what you can use, no matter what you have to do to use it. Now come on, we got information. We need to be heading for Amber Field and dropping Jewel and his Blue Coats operation. Gather your things, then meet me back in the throne room. I have to give mom a debriefing.” Typhoon flicked her ears in acknowledgement, and Cyclone disappeared through the doorway. The mare lingered a little longer to clean her coat of the blood, then trotted out after him. She couldn’t believe she was wrong about the breadth of Jewel’s spell. Her assumption had almost gotten an informant killed, and that would not have looked good on her record. But her record was the least of her concerns. Whoever Jewel really was, he was a unicorn of intense power. Taking him down was going to prove much more dangerous than she originally thought. > Chapter 8: The Long March > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 8: The Long March Life in Stalliongrad has a reputation for being mundane, monotonous, a never-ending cycle of ennui, where years might just as easily be days, and weeks a millennium. Life in nearby Saraneighvo was even more mundane, even more monotonous, and even more cyclical than the capital to the south, from the mashed potatoes and potato stew Twilight had eaten every day for the past week to the vodka that seemed to be the only thing the inn had to drink. Much to her horror, the Equestrian found herself taking a liking to the strong drink she despised only a few days ago. If she kept it up, she might turn out like Berry Punch. Twilight shuddered, trying to force the drink away with a lazy hoof. She didn’t want to end up like Berry Punch. Nopony wanted to end up like Berry Punch. The grind of the days had nearly worn Twilight out with the continual boredom they had bestowed upon her. She would wake in the morning, get something to eat, then trot around the block without her winter gear to see if the cold could snap her to attentiveness. After that, she tried to talk with the innkeeper, who was friendly enough to foreigners. He at least understood Equiish, and Twilight had learned a few Stalliongradi words in return. She knew that the pony’s name was Тихое Прибежище, or ‘Safe Haven’ in Equiish. He also had taught her common greetings and phrases, including one sentence that she had only learned just the night prior: ‘Не стреляйте, я тайну знаю.’ Twilight had begged to know what the words meant, but Safe Haven only responded with a smile, saying that he would tell her another time, if she happened to stay longer. The lavender mare had left the bar fuming, knowing that there was information whose meaning she was not yet privy to, but at least it would give her something to talk about later. As much as she hated Saraneighvo, she loved talking with the cocoa unicorn. She would have to make sure that she wrote down the inn’s address before she left so she could send letters to him. The door opened with a jingle of bells, and Twilight set her empty plate aside, expecting Rainbow Dash to return. The pegasus had flown off earlier in the day out of sheer boredom, and Twilight couldn’t say that she didn’t blame her. The only thing Rainbow had to do in the inn was look through Hurricane’s journal, but that activity had been on hold while Twilight went back and annotated much of the text on a separate sheet of paper. She hadn’t been taking notes as they read to quicken the story for Rainbow, and the information was starting to leave her brain. Now that she was caught up, Twilight was ready to tackle another section of the text with her friend. She looked up, one hoof reaching for her saddlebag as she turned. The figures that entered the inn were decidedly not Rainbow Dash. The trio of Stalliongradi ponies, a pegasus, unicorn, and earth pony, paused in the doorway, their eyes darting between the tables. Twilight felt the pegasus’ eyes rest on her for a brief moment before a scowl overtook his face. He turned and whispered to the unicorn accompanying him, and Twilight saw his gaze flit across her features in return. The ponies whispered harshly among themselves, and Twilight was beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable. Maybe she should just go… “Дверь закроете, может? Ночная тьма не следует за сумерками. Она приходит только перед рассветом.” Whatever their apprehensions were, Safe Haven’s quick words to the newcomers seemed to be enough to dispel them, and the three ponies nodded in acknowledgment before gently closing the door and finding a seat. They didn’t leave their heavy coats by the door, instead choosing to huddle underneath them where they sat. Their backs were turned towards the entryway, leaving them all facing in Twilight’s direction. The unicorn mare gulped on her vodka before slipping from her table and sidling over to the bar where Safe Haven stood polishing glasses. “Privet, Twilight. What can I do for you?” The innkeeper’s voice was lively and steady, and the sound of it brought a smile to the mare’s lips. Glancing at the ponies sitting at the table, he took three mugs out from behind the bar and began to fill them with liquor; two whiskeys, one bourbon, no vodka. “Who’re they?” Twilight whispered, flicking one ear backwards to where the three were conversing in hushed undertones. “And why do I get the feeling they’re looking to put a knife in my back or something?” “Who, them?” Safe Haven waved away the question. “They’re just some regulars that have been out of town for the past week. You were sitting at their favorite table. No big deal.” Setting the tankards on a tray, Safe Haven whistled to the table. One of the ponies, the pegasus who had entered first, stood up and trotted over to the bar. His artificial coat gently brushed against Twilight’s natural lavender one, and the mare glanced out of the corner of her eye to get a closer look at him. The pegasus was taller than most, and his light-orange wings were coiled against his impressive structure. His mane bordered a gray-white coloration, and dark umber eyes ignored Twilight completely. Numerous scars covered his chest and shoulders, and the feathers along his wing were disheveled and in desperate need of a preening. His wing shifted, and Twilight suppressed a gasp as a feather touched her neck. “Ах, Альянс, как идут дела?” Safe Haven questioned. The pegasus flitted his eyes towards Twilight’s, and seeing the blank confusion on her face, he relaxed his shoulders enough to lean across the bar. “Лучше, чем на прошлой неделе. Еще больше присоединилось с тех пор как занесло железную дорогу. К тому времени как ночь ответит, город будет готов помочь.” Safe Haven nodded, nudging the tray towards the pegasus with his nose. “Ты принес счет?” The pegasus grunted and pulled out a few paper banknotes, passing them along to Safe Haven. The innkeeper readily accepted them, turning to slip them into the cashbox behind the counter while the orange pegasus returned to his table with the drinks. Twilight thought it odd that a pony would conduct business with banknotes rather than the security offered by bits. She also thought it odd how Safe Haven pulled one of the notes out of the stack and slipped it into the pocket of his apron, but she wasn’t going to ask. Things in Stalliongrad had a tendency to become complicated, fast, and Twilight wanted no part of that. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a target painted on her back even as the three ponies at the table behind her seemed too involved with their own conversations to bother. She slid the half-full tankard of vodka between her hooves as she thought, listening to the satisfying grind of aluminum against wood. She was getting tired; probably because of the drink. Her body simply wasn’t used to the strength of the vodka. “Banknotes? What’s that all about?” Twilight wondered aloud to Safe Haven. The unicorn shook his head and began running a cloth across his bar to clean up the liquor that had splashed out of Twilight’s tankard. “Sorry.” “It’s quite alright, Twilight,” Haven countered. “It’s something to do, at least. As for the banknotes, well, sometimes it’s easier to do business with IOUs. In case you haven’t noticed, Saraneighvo probably has barely enough gold to melt down and make a pocket watch. Bartering’s the order of the day around here. Why, the bits that you paid me when you stopped by the first time probably more than doubled the wealth of the town.” “Huh. I guess that makes sense,” Twilight relented, balancing the tankard between her hooves. She was too tired to lift it with her magic, and instead she physically brought it to her face like a pegasus or earth pony. Celestia, how she hated loving the drink. The door jingled open again, and in staggered Rainbow Dash, her winter coat hanging loosely across her shoulders and an empty bottle of whiskey clutched between her teeth. After nearly toppling the hat stand and coatrack, the prismatic pegasus stumbled over to Twilight and hoisted herself onto the bench next to her friend. Draping a foreleg across the unicorn’s shoulder, Dash smiled around the drooping bottle in her teeth. “‘Ey, ‘Ilight! I ‘aven’t ‘een you all ‘ay!” Spitting out the bottle, Rainbow let it clatter to the floor where it spilled a few drops of whiskey into the wood. “What have you been up to, lately? Same old, same old?” Twilight stiffened under Rainbow’s embrace, glancing toward where Safe Haven watched, amusement spreading across his face. “Erm… Rainbow? Are you feeling alright?” “What? Of course I feel alright! Why, I feel absolutely fine! Perfect! Twenty percent better than ever!” Twilight lifted Rainbow’s foreleg off of her back and guided it toward the bar, where it stayed. “Rainbow, I hope you didn’t go out and spend the entire day drinking. I really, honestly hope that wasn’t what you did.” “Especially since you could have done the same thing here,” Safe Haven added. Twilight glared at him, and the unicorn responded with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah? Well, you know, it was some good drink.” Rainbow placed a hoof to her chest before releasing a loud belch that silenced the inn. The three ponies at the table glanced at Rainbow, animosity growing on their faces. Twilight laughed nervously and levitated the bottle Rainbow dropped off of the floor. She set it on the bar, where Safe Haven cautiously approached to garner a look. “Rainbow,” Twilight began, her voice taking on a motherly tone, “where did you get this at? You’ve had me worried sick for the past two hours, waiting for you to come back.” “Hey, I didn’t do nothing wrong, Twi,” Rainbow protested, shoving off lightly from Twilight. “The ponies who gave me that whiskey were very nice. They just wanted to make sure that we were comfortable where we were rooming at.” Leaning forward, Rainbow stretched her wings into the air behind her, inadvertently brushing the coat of the pony nearest her. The stallion glared, and Twilight nudged Rainbow’s wings back to her body. Safe Haven grasped the bottle with his Arcana and rotated it to get a closer look at the label. When he did, his face visibly paled beneath his brown coat. Nearly dropping the bottle, Safe Haven turned towards the drunken pegasus. “Miss… Rainbow Dash, was it? Did you happen to tell the ponies who gave you this whiskey where exactly you were staying?” The door answered for her. The bell nearly shattered under the force of the wood slamming open, and the tiny brass chime fell to the ground. A solid hoof in a horseshoe of steel crushed it into the floorboards, eliciting a pitiful cry of metal on metal. The inn had fallen silent, and the three ponies at the table visibly tensed, even though they didn’t see who opened the door. A company of five Stalliongrad ponies walked into the bar, all wearing heavy black jackets. The sleeves extended down the foreleg to just above the ankle, and actual fur lined the collars and the thick padding underneath the fabric. The ponies all wore the jackets open, and Twilight could see an alarming gallery of weapons against their chests. Swords, daggers, and even an axe or two glinted in the light from the fireplace. Muscles rippled underneath their jackets, and several pairs of wings fluttered off the snow that had accumulated on them. There were no unicorns or earth ponies in the company. The lead stallion, a pegasus with a sickle strapped to his chest, stepped forward with a frightening smile on his face. His lean limbs moved with purpose and precision, and he took his time strolling into the open of the inn. His coat was wheat brown, with a mane full of spikey gray hair. Angry green eyes flickered in their sockets, and the pegasus’ predatory tongue ran over a row of jagged teeth. His wings were scarred, and several badly frayed feathers stood almost perpendicular to his body. It was obvious to Twilight that the pegasus’ wings had seen much use in their lifetime, and probably had not been preened once within the past two years. Safe Haven pretended not to notice the arrival of the five Black Cloaks, the brutish police force that ran most of the Domain of Stalliongrad, but Twilight could see the sheen of sweat that quickly formed around the base of his horn. Instead, the brown unicorn set about polishing several glasses on his counter, working each one over several times until it had the perfect level of sheen. The Black Cloak with the sickle and officer insignia on his shoulder flashed Twilight one of his toothy smiles before sidling up to the bar. Tapping his shod hoof against the counter, the wheat pegasus waited for Safe Haven to turn around. Haven took his time doing so, stealing one or two quick breaths before approaching. “Подполковник, я не ожидал увидеть вас так поздно ночью. Есть что-то, с чем я могу помочь?” The pegasus officer grinned and flicked one of his wings, nearly touching Twilight’s face. “Ну, может и есть. Я ищу троих предателей, что по слухам орудуют в моем городе. Болтают, они пытаются смешать Сараево с дерьмом и вышвырнуть отсюда Черные Плащи. Так вот, если это действительно так, я хочу чтобы любой житель, который хоть что-то знает, пришел и рассказал мне об этом лично. Чем быстрее мы схватим этих подонков, тем лучше.” Twilight perked her ears, trying to decipher the words while Rainbow quietly hiccupped beside her. She could only understand bits and pieces—‘Saraneighvo’ was mentioned, along with ‘Black Cloaks’, ‘information’, and a lot of curses. She thought she heard the word ‘traitors’, but she wasn’t sure. Safe Haven nodded, pushing a mug of ale towards the pegasus. “Само собой, губернатор. Как только я что-нибудь узнаю—” “Заткнись,” the Black Cloak interrupted. “Я тут хочу внести предельную ясность, что если кто-то предоставляет им хату, убежище или еще какую блядскую нору, того будут судить и казнят как военного преступника. Вот теперь, есть ли что-нибудь, что ты хочешь мне рассказать, Прибежище?” Twilight couldn’t understand what the two were saying, but she heard Safe Haven’s name twice, combined with several other swears, and ‘war criminal’. She could tell that Haven was becoming increasingly distraught, despite how much he tried to cover it by polishing an errant glass. Try as she might, though, she was unable to bring herself to ask what was going on. Even Rainbow Dash in her stupor had enough sense to hold her tongue. “Ты думал, что проследив за прибывшими из Еквестрии, выйдешь на нас, Серп?” the pegasus at the table chided. Amusement quickly filling his face, the Black Cloak who Twilight inferred was named Serp with what she gathered from the orange stallion’s words left the bar and began to walk towards the table. “Естественно. Мятежная сволота вроде вас всегда ищет внешней помощи в своих пиздаватых планах. Я смотрю, сдесь две носительницы Элементов Гармонии. Не надо далеко идти, чтоб понять как остальные четверо гадят в остальных Царских городах.” Serp reached for his sickle, and the other Black Cloaks responded by drawing their own respective weapons. “Комендант будет ох как рад увидеть ваши мятежные морды выстроены перед ним на коленях. Особенно твою, я притащу тебя к нему скованным, сломленным и с обрезками крыльев. Я аж сейчас слышу его похвалы.” Twilight was able to pick up on the gist of the message; the grain-coated pegasus was threatening the orange one and was demanding that he surrender. She leaned closer to Safe Hazen, her hooves fumbling with each other in alarm. “What is he saying? What’s going on?” Safe Haven released a tense breath and narrowed his eyes on the back of the Black Coat’s head. “Twilight, I want you and Rainbow Dash to gather your belongings and get out of here as quickly as you possibly can. Then leave Saraneighvo. Don’t stop until you get to Stalliongrad, and don’t talk with any Black Cloaks until after you get to the castle.” His hooves moved beneath the counter, and Twilight heard the flicking of latches, like the kind that would be used on a weapons case. “What? Why? What do you mean?” Twilight pleaded. The Black Cloaks were closing in on the three ponies sitting at the table, but they didn’t seem to care. Twilight thought she saw a smile flicker to the orange pegasus’ face just before the lead enforcer reached out to touch him. “What exactly is—?” There was a blinding flash of light, coupled by wails and screams of pain that poured out from the center of the inn. Twilight found herself face down on the floor, hunched over Rainbow Dash’s shaking body as the world exploded around her. When she stood up, the light had receded, leaving a faint ring of burnt mana lying around the now overturned table where the trio of ponies had been sitting at. Twilight realized that the unicorn must have placed a proximity spell around the table that casted a brilliant light whenever it was breached. She then ducked in fear as Safe Haven jumped the bar, sword held aloft in a grip of Arcana, and drove it into the back of the nearest Black Cloak. The inn had exploded into a chaotic brawl as the three ponies plus Safe Haven swung weapons at the four remaining Black Cloaks scattered throughout the room. Terrified, Twilight nearly hurled Rainbow Dash into their room with her magic before sprinting in after her and slamming the door shut. She then stood with her back to the door, panting. “What the hay?! Rainbow shouted, backpedaling towards her bead. “I didn’t know that coltfriend of yours was a freaking psycho! He just attacked the police!” “I’m sure he had a very good reason!” Twilight protested, throwing her books into her saddlebags and tossing her winter gear over her coat. “I knew something was up with those ponies the moment I laid eyes on them! That was Governor Serp, the pony in charge of Saraneighvo and its garrison of Black Cloaks! They’re some of the cruelest ponies in all of Equestria!” Pausing, she turned to scowl at Rainbow Dash. "And he's not my coltfriend!" Rainbow Dash had gathered enough of her wits about her to help with the packing. She shoveled food, clothes, anything she owned into a bag and threw it across her back, making sure to adjust her winter gear first. “Whatever you say. And just what are you talking about?! Those were the ponies I was talking with earlier!” “And they used you to find their way back here! I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the Black Cloaks were looking for somepony, and they figured we had something to do with it! Now, we’re probably wanted criminals!” Twilight hopped nervously from hoof to hoof on the verge of hyperventilation. “Oh, how am I ever going to become an Archmage if I have a criminal record?! This is bad, bad, bad!” Pounding on the door caused her to shriek, and Rainbow scurried next to her. “Then teleport us the buck out of here, Twi! Something tells me we aren’t going to get a fair trial if we open that door!” Twilight vigorously nodded, her breathing growing increasingly ragged and stressed. “Alright! I’m getting us out of here—anywhere but here!” The door exploded open with a gust of wind to reveal Marshal Serp standing there, blood dripping from the point of his sickle, just as Twilight and Rainbow Dash teleported away. Twilight was still screaming when the two of them fell fifteen feet to the ground below on a hilltop just outside of Saraneighvo. “Twilight! Twilight, chill out!” Rainbow Dash shouted as Twilight’s body visibly shook from her panic. “Twi, we’re outside of the city. We’re safe.” Taking several deep and strained breaths, Twilight sat up and glanced at Saraneighvo. Fires were beginning to light in the block around the inn, and she could see figures leaving their buildings and meeting in bloody clashes up and down Mane Street. Sirens began to go off as the smoke poured out of the town, and dozens of pegasi flew off of rooftops around the city to meet in aerial combat. The city of Saraneighvo was in full-fledged revolt. The two Equestrians looked on at the increasingly chaotic battlefield before sliding down the side of the hill towards the rail lines below. The steel tracks stretched onwards into the night to the south, two thin trails of reflected light under the howling of the winter storm. Rainbow and Twilight looked over the tracks for a long time before Dash made the first move. “Well, we ain’t gonna get anywhere by just standing here. C’mon, let’s get back to Stalliongrad.” Twilight remained in shock for seconds longer as Rainbow Dash began to follow the tracks to the south. The fires were multiplying in Saraneighvo along with the smoke, and she very much doubted that any trains would be coming from the town anytime soon. So, shifting the weight of her saddlebags over her flanks, Twilight began a brisk trot after Rainbow into the Stalliongrad night. And here she thought she’d just be spending a week in Saraneighvo reading about Hurricane’s life. ----- The windswept cliffs of the steep valley shivered under the cold and snow they bore on their brows. The gray rocks raced downwards in jagged lines, loose boulders sitting where they lay nestled against rogue trees that clung to the sides of the cliffs. A raging river of white rapids defied the tense chill trying to freeze it solid, spurning away the frosts and devouring the snow along its banks. Somehow its tributaries had not been frozen over, and the sky and valley continued their duel with splashing and howling. The valley plateaued into a narrow mountain pass about fifteen feet wide that weaved between the jagged spires rising up on either side of the river. Some of the mountains stood thousands of feet tall, their gray sides trying to shrug off the ice that clung to them. The little pass threaded around these monoliths, taking the time every once in a while to find a break in the stone curtain and reveal the massive plains to the west. Smart Cookie paused by one of these such breaks, taking the time to rest his hooves by dangling them off the edge where he sat. The sun had sliced open a swath of sky behind him, and its shimmering rays fell into the glittering river below or danced off of the icy field ahead. It was a majestic sight, and he smiled as the wind tickled his cheeks and the light stubble that was teasing its way through the fur around his jawline. Even if he was in the middle of nowhere without the beloved razor he used to keep his face prim and proper, the views like the one he was enjoying right now made the journey bearable. Of course, he still had to contend with the mind-numbing Chancellor, day after day. Adjusting the hat to sit more comfortably on his brow, the Representative turned to where Puddinghead was marching in circles. A groove at least several inches deep had been worn into the path which had seen centuries of use, the gravel and dirt on its face ground and compressed into a smooth trail. Smart Cookie knew that they were following what was in the old days a Crystal Pony marching path, long since abandoned. He never knew why the Crystal warlords had stopped following the path; as far as he could remember, the last time the trail had been worn by the barbarians was not even two years past, and they had pillaged several villages in the Low Valleys before Cirra could respond. The last warlord to use it had even routed a regiment of Cirran fliers that tried to pursue them into the pass. Why would they abandon it when it was such a defensible position? “Smart Cookie! Come on, Representative! We’ve got to get a move on!” The orange stallion groaned and clambered to his hooves, shouldering the packs he had to carry. Puddinghead was staring at him impatiently through the remains of the map. After the first few days, Smart Cookie had just accepted it and moved on. He didn’t really need the map anyway. Just keep going west, ever westward until there was no more snow. Then he’d stake a claim for the land and head back home. Of course, he’d need a map to do that… Oh well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. “Yes yes, this is definitely the right direction!” Puddinghead proclaimed as his hooves completed their circuit for the fiftieth time. Smart Cookie paused by the edge of the circle, dulled indifference filling his face. “Chancellor, you do realize that you’re going in circles?” Puddinghead stopped dead in his tracks, confusion overtaking his features. “But that’s impossible! Are you saying that I’m reading the map wrong?!” The Representative could barely conceal his exasperation. “Absolutely not, your chancellorship.” Smart Cookie had to spit into the snow to clear the sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “It’s only that there are holes in the map, and—” “Well of course there are!” Puddinghead interrupted. “How else am I going to see where I’m going?” His careless steps took him dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, sending snow falling into the ravine below. “I… uh…” Smart Cookie mumbled as he watched Puddinghead draw nearer to the edge. Would it really be a crime to let his idiotic leader fall to his death? A better question was whether or not doing so would disqualify him from running in the elections that summer. Unfortunately, the Chancellor spun around right at the edge of the cliff. “Or talk? I need to be able to talk! I mean, how would we survive if I just suddenly shut up?” “Heaven forbid that should happen, your chancellorship,” Smart Cookie began. “It’s just that, uh, the map is also upside down.” Puddinghead scowled at Smart Cookie. “I got a newsflash for you, Smart Cookie. The world is round. There is no up or down.” Satisfied, the Chancellor turned his nose skyward and trotted away from Smart Cookie… in the direction they just came from. Smart Cookie huffed and rolled his eyes. Would it really be too hard to carry on by himself? Unfortunately, Puddinghead was carrying all the food with him, and it didn’t look like they were going to find any in the ravine. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders and called after the Chancellor. “You’re right! It’s such a relief to me that you’re in charge of the map…” Puddinghead, still under the impression that he deserved a servant as Chancellor, hastily backpedalled as Smart Cookie reopened the topic. “Relief?! You don’t need relief! If anypony around here needs, relief, it’s me! I’m a Chancellor! I’m a big shot! You’re just my… my…” “Representative, secretary, foalsitter…” “Exactly!” Puddinghead shouted, oblivious to the implications of Smart Cookie’s last example. Sucking the map into his maw, the Chancellor chewed on it for a second before spitting it onto Smart Cookie’s face. The Representative cringed under the wet piece of parchment and quickly slapped it off of his muzzle. “You take the map, while I enjoy some relief!” Smart Cookie grumbled as he held the map against the ground and tried to repair the damage done to it. Puddinghead had ripped out the sections containing Cirra and the Diamond Kingdom but had at least left the depiction of the lands to the west of Amber Field mostly intact. Now that he had the map, Smart Cookie was sure he could optimize their progress through the mountain passes. In no time at all, they’d find a homeland, and he could get back just in time to start his campaigning for the chancellorship! Puddinghead, meanwhile, had wandered to the edge of the cliff. The snow bank he strode over quivered as his hooves advanced closer and closer to the ravine. Chunks of snow and ice fell nearly two hundred feet down to the river below, bouncing noiselessly off of the valley walls as they descended. There was a dull crunch and snap as the ice cracked, and the bank Puddinghead was standing on plummeted off of the overhang to the bottom of the ravine. The Chancellor let out a startled yelp before falling with the snow and ice, frantically flapping his forelegs like a bird. The wind tore through his coat as he dropped, stealing his hat away from him. Smart Cookie looked up just in time to see Puddinghead’s hat flutter off of the edge of the ravine. Cautiously approaching the edge, the Representative gulped and looked over. He may have wished Puddinghead harm to amuse himself before, but now… Now he saw the Chancellor clinging onto a branch about fifty feet from the rushing waters below. It was difficult to see Puddinghead’s brown form against the gray cliffs, but he was there all right, his legs flailing as he struggled to grab hold of the frozen bark. His hat glided down on the currents after him, somehow alighting on the very end of the tree just out of the Chancellor’s reach. “By the sun…” Smart Cookie muttered under his breath. He turned and began to rifle through one of his saddlebags for some rope. “You doing alright, Chancellor?!” “Just dandy!!” came the stranded pony’s reply. “I’m very relieved right now! Yup, enjoying lots of relief!” There was an audible snap, and Smart Cookie perked his ears. The Chancellor’s words came again, although not as confident as before. “Yeah, lots of relief down here. Say, you wouldn’t mind hauling me back up again?” Smart Cookie pulled out a section of rope and tied one end to a pickaxe he was using as a makeshift stake. Setting his gear down around him, the Representative wedged the pickaxe into the rock as hard as he could and tossed the rope off of the edge. The coil fell down, down, down, approaching the Chancellor at an ever-quickening rate… …only to stop about twenty feet short. Smart Cookie groaned in frustration and held his hat across his chest to think. He didn’t have any more rope to get to Puddinghead, and the Chancellor was stuck on his branch without a means to get closer to the dangling line. That left only two options. Either leave the Chancellor, or go down himself and try to save him. “Smart Cookie!” Puddinghead wailed from the tree limb. “I can’t reach the rope!” “I know, Chancellor!” Smart Cookie retorted. “Just hang on a second, I’ll see what I can do.” “A second!” The sound of laughter reached Smart Cookie, only hastening his withdrawal from the ledge. “I can hang on for more than a second, Smart Cookie! I mean, if I don’t, I’ll surely die! Ha ha ha ha!” The Representative cursed Puddinghead’s inability to take anything seriously. Even on the brink of falling to his death, the Chancellor was still as lighthearted as ever. How Puddinghead was considered a sane pony, Smart Cookie would never know. His stomach growled as he looked through his saddlebags, and the Representative tried to appease it with a few stalks of hay he pulled out of his bedroll. If only Puddinghead didn’t have all the food! It was to the brown pony’s luck that he did, though. If Smart Cookie was in possession of the food, he probably would have left as soon as the rope fell short. Even with the hay to munch on, the growling continued. Smart Cookie grumbled as he tried to ignore the noise before realizing that he didn’t have to ignore the pain. His stomach felt absolutely fine. A little on the light side, but not famished. Gulping, he glanced towards the shadows of the mountain wall to his left. A pair of green eyes glared at him from the darkness. They blinked once, then were joined by another pair. The growling began to rise in pitch and volume as more sets of eyes appeared out of the dark, and Smart Cookie stumbled backwards. Whatever those eyes belonged to, he had a feeling it wasn’t friendly. “Jeez, Smart Cookie! What’s taking you so long up there?” Puddinghead questioned. “It’s not like I’ve got all day! Oh, wait, I do. Carry on then!” The sound of the Chancellor’s voice only seemed to entice the creatures farther. The growling abruptly stopped, and Smart Cookie could see one begin to leave the shadows from which it appeared. With one loud snort, the creature emerged from the mountainside and began to advance on Smart Cookie. The monster was at least six feet tall, standing on two spindly legs covered in gray fur. Its torso was massive and muscular, and its arms made up more than half of its size and heft. Jagged teeth were bared from under bloodied lips, and its eyes glinted with malice and hatred. The beast’s ears followed Smart Cookie’s breaths and its nose tentatively sniffed the air. A stubby tail shook from underneath its patchwork garments of cloth and leather. All across its body, the monstrosity was adorned with gems and jewels of all kinds. Smart Cookie gasped as he tripped over the bags lying near the edge of the cliff and nearly fell off. With a distinctively canine growl, the beast advanced at a faster pace, the claws on its paws gouging out huge chunks of earth. It stopped just short of the Representative, its nose twitching as it sniffed and its tongue running over its teeth. It leaned in closer until Smart Cookie could feel its breath rolling across his neck, the hot and sticky air clinging to his coat. “Um… I d-don’t suppose we could talk this over, could we?” the pony pleaded. The beast’s sniffing halted and it drew back to regard the creature it had pinned. After deciding that it did not understand the meaning of the pony’s words, the monstrous canine only roared into Smart Cookie’s face, blowing his hat off the edge of the cliff. The Representative gulped and bit his lip. “Yeah… I kind of figured as much.” Before the beast could respond, the earth pony drew his legs against his chest and bucked off the beast with all the force he could muster. It was no small amount, and the monster was launched several feet into the air before slamming into the mountainside, twenty feet above the path below. Smart Cookie considered himself lucky he was an earth pony and had access to their Endura. The strength the magic gave him was the only reason he could move a beast of that size. The other two races would have had to fight their way out with more indirect tactics. He also considered how unlucky he was to be an earth pony without access to a pair of wings or teleportation magic to escape from the howling pack rushing him from out of the shadows. Scrambling to his hooves, Smart Cookie searched for a way out. He was cornered on the edge of the ravine, and there was nowhere to go except down. Except down… “Sweet Celestis, have mercy on my troubled soul!” Smart Cookie shouted as he flung himself off of the ravine. Immediately he regretted the action. The wind ripped across his face faster than he had ever experienced in his life, and he finally understood why he was afraid of heights. Screaming, he flailed his limbs on the way down, but to no avail. His speed increased at an alarming weight, and he could feel his organs shifting within his chest. “OhCelestisohLunispleasehelpmeIdon’twanttodiepleasepleasepleasepl—” The icy sting of the river suddenly forced its way down Smart Cookie’s throat, cutting off his words along with his access to air. He struggled, spasms wracking his abdomen and limbs as he fought his way to the surface. The world around him lightened, and Smart Cookie knew he had broken the surface as the wind returned to buffet his face. Coughing the water from his lungs, the Representative struggled to find a rock to grab onto. Pulling himself onto the shore, Smart Cookie kissed the gravelly sands. Alive and safe! He smiled to the skies as he choked out the last of the water in his lungs. Celestis and Lunis were looking out for him after all. “OOOOHHHH DEAR HEAVENS!! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, SMART COOKIE!! RUN LIKE HOW YOU DID WHEN YOU FOUND THAT RAT IN YOUR OFFICE LAST MONTH!!” Smart Cookie quickly shuffled back against the valley wall as Puddinghead sprinted by him at top speed, leaving a cloud of dirt and snow in his wake. Shaking the water off of his face, Smart Cookie glanced to where the Chancellor had come from just in time to see a pack of fifteen more of the canine monstrosities pursuing him. His ears drooped. “Son of a…” The Representative didn’t give himself time to finish the sentence, instead choosing to turn tail and flee after Puddinghead. The Chancellor had impressive speed and agility, weaving around boulders and other obstacles in his way until Smart Cookie could only see his ever-shrinking tail outdistancing him along the river. A glance over his shoulder revealed that the dog-like creatures were closing on him, their mouths oozing in anticipation of their next meal. Panting, the orange stallion redoubled his resolve and struggled to put more distance between himself and the canines. “Puddinghead!!!” he wailed, kicking up dirt as his hooves scrambled across a particularly slippery patch of stone and sand. Figures that this would happen to him! He would have preferred it if karma had waited a day or two to pay him back for considering abandoning Puddinghead. It’s not like he actually did leave, anyway! Well, if the Gods weren’t going to cut him some slack, then he’d have to devise his own escape. He just needed somewhere to lose the dogs… There. A break in the river valley, opening up to the plains outside. He could flee through there and possibly outrun the dogs pursuing him. They were clumsy and ill-suited to running, best he could tell. Besides, he was running in their home turf. Sooner or later they would find some shortcut to catch him. In the open, though, they wouldn’t have that advantage. His breath paining his throat, Smart Cookie poured the last of his energy into getting through the gap. Leaping over a large stone in his way, the Representative stumbled out of the valley. Wide expanses of land greeted him on either side, along with a gentle breeze and the warmth of the sun, complete with fifty charging Crystal Ponies. Smart Cookie tried to skid to a stop, but his hooves only collapsed under him and he tumbled headlong into their charge. His muzzle slammed against the ground, bringing stars to his eyes and causing him to harshly bite down on his tongue. He spat blood onto the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting any second to be ripped limb from limb by the barbarians’ cruel iron weapons. So much for becoming Chancellor of the Low Valleys. The sound of hooves thundered all around him, and Smart Cookie peeked from under his hooves at the ponies rushing around him. Not over him like he anticipated, but around him. Rolling onto his back, he watched as the ponies stopped the gap he had previously burst through. Unreal howling filled the air as the Crystal Ponies ripped apart the pack of dog-creatures that had pursued Smart Cookie. Their lines were solid, resolute, disciplined, and unlike any Crystal barbarians he had seen before. Their armor was uniform, coated in diamond and void crystals over a strong layer of steel. Cyan plumes and armor plates decorated their crystalline coats of various colors. Orders were given not with the clubbing of subordinates, but from the calm and educated voice of what Smart Cookie inferred was a general of some sorts. In seconds it was over, and the mangled bodies of several monsters lay in the pass next to several crushed ponies. The soldiers withdrew, carrying their dead with them while a pair of soldiers advanced to burn the bodies of the canines. They bypassed Smart Cookie completely, not even sparing him as much as a glance. Until a pair of hooves stopped by his head. Feeling them nudge against his damp mane, Smart Cookie turned his delirious eyes skyward. A towering pony, much taller than any he had ever seen before, stared back at him. The pony was a mare, complete with a jade coat largely obscured by her cyan armor of diamonds and gold. Her sky blue eyes wandered across his body, the hexagonal sparkle in their irises transfixing the Representative. A mane of darker green hung to one side of her neck, ending in frayed coils below her shoulder. A thin and expressionless mouth completed her face from under her steel helmet. But that wasn’t what caught Smart Cookie’s eyes. Protruding from her helmet was a beautiful jade horn easily measuring over two feet in length. A slight rustling by her armored sides drew Smart Cookie’s glance towards her flanks. Two large wings of beautiful green feathers fluttered loosely against her body. The feathers were freshly preened, looking like they were treated with a level of care and attention that rivaled even that which Princess Platinum enjoyed. The tips of her feathers parted, revealing a cutie mark of a crystal sword crossed in front of a diamond shield. Smart Cookie’s head lolled back onto the chilly grass. A unicorn… with wings? Or a pegasus with a horn? How…? All he knew for certain was that she was a Crystal Pony. The mare looked over her shoulder and spoke to another stallion covered in armor. “Go find that other pony that came through here. I think this is one of his companions.” Her voice was smooth as silk and undulated like the gently rolling waves of a calm lake. Smart Cookie felt a sense of ease as she spoke, feeling confident that, for whatever reason, he trusted these Crystal Ponies entirely. Faintness tugged on the edges of his mind, and Smart Cookie felt himself falling into the void. The jade mare leaned down and felt his pulse, whispering into his ear. “You’re safe now. I promise.” Then darkness overtook him, leaving her words to follow him to his dreams. ----- Clover didn’t know how long she had been marching for. Her hooves were killing her. Her legs were killing her. Her horn was killing her. Every part of her body ached in some unique and painful way, and the barbarians refused to let her have a break and rest. They had been galloping at full speed for Celestis knows how long. She was parched, hungry, and violently shaking from the cold and the void ring still fastened to her horn. The wagon had broken down fifty miles back, and they had been marching ever since. Even then, however, Halite had been careful to make sure that his prisoners didn’t take undue damage. They walked at a brisk yet comfortable pace along well-worn trails across open plains and hills for the majority of the journey, but something spooked Halite fifteen miles back. From then on, he ordered that his soldiers stay off of the roads and move only in the shadows of the forest, marching as brisk as they could possibly go. It was Tartarus, pure and unbridled Tartarus. Platinum had caved long ago, and Halite had two of his soldiers carry her across the rough terrain. Clover was forced to travel by her own four hooves, as weary and tired as they were. Her hooves tripped over a root, and Clover was too tired to catch herself. With a painful crash and tumble, the pistachio mare cracked her jaw against the ground with such force she could only lay there, stunned. She brought a hoof to her face and saw it came off bloody, but the blood wasn’t from her face. She looked and saw a set of crimson hoofprints in the snow behind her, disappearing into the undergrowth of the forest. She had been marching for so long that she finally reached the point when she couldn’t move anymore. The company of barbarians stopped at Halite’s whistle, and Clover could sense several eyes turn towards her crumpled and broken figure. One set of hooves in particular approached her. The fetlocks were gray and caked with mud. Just the pony she wanted to see, especially now. Halite’s first action was to kick Clover’s snout to try and get her to stand up. The mareservant snorted in pain, trying to jolt her head away from the warlord and his painful hooves. Her limbs struggled briefly with the snow she lay on, but it was no use. She couldn’t stand. “Get up,” Halite hissed, kicking Clover in the snout again. Her nose began to bleed, but still she couldn’t rise. “Get up.” Another crushing blow was delivered to her ribcage, causing the young mare to cough in agony. Growling, Halite took his sword from his scabbard and rested it on Clover’s neck. “Sir,” one of the barbarians began, taking a tentative step towards his leader, “I thought we was keeping her. Wasn’t she worth some good amount o’ bits or somethin’?” “She would be worth a few hundred, but I am hardly concerned. The Princess is worth much, much more. Besides,” he put slight pressure to the sword, drawing forth specks of blood, “she’ll only slow us down, and I want to get back to Onyx Ridge as soon as possible. Foul things follow the scent of wealth. Most of them fly.” Clover strained against the ground, but her aching limbs wouldn’t support her. “Wait… I can march… just give me time to rest…” Halite clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No, my little unicorn, we don’t have time to waste. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it’s going to have to be this way.” Tightening his grip on the sword, Halite raised it over his head. Clover squeezed her eyes shut, cringing and huddling her limbs close to herself in a fetal position. Sun and Moon, this was how it was all going to end, wasn’t it? “Wait!” The iron sword buried its nose in the ground next to Clover’s neck, leaving the frightened mare whimpering in the snow. Halite picked up his weapon and turned along with the rest of the Crystal Ponies to where Princess Platinum stood, a jagged shard of iron gripped in her teeth. One of her guards lay bleeding on the ground next to her, the iron still dripping his blood. The other she had in a headlock, the shard of iron pointed at his neck. “If you so much as hurt her, I’ll kill this poor sod!” Platinum shouted, the iron quivering in her grip as she spoke. It was a laughable sight to see a proud Crystal warrior held hostage by a princess whose first and only care was whether her mane looked right. It was also very unlike the Princess to threaten to kill another pony, much less actually do it. Halite called the bluff immediately. “You would do no such thing. You had the chance to finish off the soldier you wounded, and you did nothing. You lack the resolve to harm another pony. It’s not in your nature.” He advanced, his hooves crunching the snow underneath with great malice. “Put the shank down, Platinum. It’s not like you’re going to fight us all off.” Her eyes darting from pony to pony, Platinum pushed off of the hostage she had and stepped backwards. Halite was right, she couldn’t hope to fight off all of the barbarians, much less himself. And it wasn’t like Halite cared whether or not she killed his soldiers anyway. There was only one thing she could do. Clamping the piece of iron between her hooves, she aimed it at her own chest. Halite paused before speaking again, but Platinum could tell his tone had changed. “Platinum, let’s not do anything hasty. You wouldn’t want to ruin your coat, would you? Much less take your own life.” Platinum gulped, but her resolve was steeling. “I know I’m the only thing you care about here, Halite. I’m worth thousands, tens of thousands, aren’t I? How much money are you going to get off of a corpse? Especially a corpse with a nasty piece of iron sticking out of her heart?” “You wouldn’t do it.” “Try me,” Platinum spat. Stealing a breath, the Princess pushed on the shard of iron. Rivulets of scarlet began to trickle from her coat as she gasped against the pain. “Stop!” Halite shouted. “Stop!” His shoulders were shaking, and he swallowed sharply. Turning to his soldiers, he nodded his head. “Pick her up. We’re bringing her to Onyx Ridge with us.” He took a step closer to Platinum, bending down to her level. “I did what you wanted. Your servant is safe. Now, drop the shard.” Platinum stared at her chest as she willed herself to stop hyperventilating. The blood trickled down her perfectly white coat until it dripped to the ground between her hooves. It was a shallow wound, barely worse than a paper cut, but the significance behind it scared her the most. She had come within inches of seriously hurting herself or worse to save the life of a servant. Why? The shard of iron fell to the snow, her blood and the blood of the Crystal Pony she had wounded mingling together in a crimson stain. She didn’t have the urge to resist as two warriors replaced her bindings and carried her across their backs. As the barbarians began to move again, Platinum found she lacked the ability to express her emotions. “Why?” Platinum started as another pony gave her turbulent thoughts a voice. She looked across the marching barbarian’s back to see Clover being carried next to her, bruised and bloodied but alive. “Why did you save me?” The question sat heavily in the Princess’ mind, but she found her answer not in her brain, but in her heart. A new mask of confidence overtook her features and she smiled softly to Clover. “Because I realized that you’re my friend. Not just a servant. My one and only friend in this cruel, harsh world.” Clover raised a weak eyebrow. “Really? I… I didn’t think you cared, Princess.” “Of course I care, Clover darling. I didn’t before, that much is true, but now… well, now I realize that you’re important to me. You’re the only one who’s really ever had my side. Whether that’s from subservience or something else I won’t stop to ponder. But you’re here, with me, and I couldn’t turn my back on you.” Her eyes took on a resolved glint, and she nodded her head as if she had never been more certain of anything in her life. “And I promise you, Clover, that no matter what happens, we’re getting out of this. Together.” The Princess’ intensity filled Clover with a newfound sense of awe and determination. Platinum was right. They would find some way to get out of this. No matter how tough the obstacles to their freedom were. No matter how high the walls were… Celestis, those walls were high. The troop of Crystal barbarians crested a hill on the edge of a forest to look out across a landscape of plains and fields that stretched on for a hundred miles in any direction. The snow shimmered softly under the early afternoon sun that had poked its way through the clouds, and tiny gusts and breezes swirled some of the crystals into lovely patterns. A backdrop of grandiose mountains in the west framed the picture beautifully. Clover knew that behind those silent obelisks of stone and rock lay the strait, her doorway to finding new lands for the Kingdom. Those thoughts were put on hold, however, when she saw the towering structure placed in the center of the fields about ten miles out. The structure was a fortress of incredible strength and size. Black walls sloped upwards from the fortified ground surrounding it, their polished faces creating a blinding display as they scattered the sun’s rays across their onyx surfaces. They must have gone upwards for nearly two hundred feet; River Rock’s own stone walls paled in comparison, not even measuring to half of their height. Towers and buttresses of all kinds adorned the circular walls at regular intervals. Low ramparts ringed the fortress in concentric circles for at least a mile out from its impressive main gates. A brilliant castle, made of onyx bricks as far as Clover could tell, dominated the center of the fortress. It was then that the mare realized that Onyx Ridge was not just a fortress; it was a citadel of impressive scale, probably home to tens of thousands of Crystal warriors. “Come on, move it!” Halite growled to his followers. “Onyx Ridge is only eleven miles away! Let’s hustle! I want to be in my own bed by nightfall!” The two unicorns glanced at each other as their captors began the charge towards Onyx Ridge. Clover was glad that Platinum had given her that motivational pep talk. It gave her the strength and resolve to escape from Halite, no matter what the cost. She would need that strength and resolve if she was going to find a way out of Onyx Ridge. ----- “See anything?” “Nothing, sir!” “Dammit,” Hurricane swore from high above the treetops. He and Pan Sea had been searching for any sign of Streak Wing and his company of bandits for days now, and hadn’t come across a single trace in their ever-widening search. He figured he would find something by now—a campsite, discarded bones, anything—but his guesses all came up empty. He was beginning to think that somehow he had lost the traitors and all the energy he had expended on the search was going to end up being a waste. Part of him argued that he should just move on and forget Streak Wing; there was no way that the deserter believed him to still be alive, not with the potency of the poison he had given him. It would be safer and wiser just to continue heading west, find new lands, and return. The mountains still loomed large on the horizon, beckoning for the Commander to surmount them. They were only a two days’ flight out at this point. Still, something far more powerful than wisdom pulled on Hurricane’s soul and demanded that he find Streak Wing and claim his life as payment for the wrongs he had committed against Cirra. Was it pride, challenging him to avenge the blows against his honor and the honor of Cirra that this one traitor and his band of deserters had dealt? Perhaps it was his sense of duty that ordered him to strike down deserters and traitors as the old Empire once expected him to do. Maybe it was fear, telling him that if he didn’t kill Streak Wing first, the former Legate would find a way to destroy him and his nation. Whatever it was, it had prompted the search for Streak Wing the day after Hurricane recovered from the poison. Whatever gear the deserters hadn’t taken, Hurricane and Pan Sea split between them, and after Hurricane had hunted enough food to feed them for a few days, the two Legionnaires took to the skies and began their spiraling search for Streak Wing. Hurricane only knew that the deserters had gone somewhere to the south or west, but he had no way of knowing where the pegasus’ destination lay. So, resorting to brute force locating tactics, Hurricane and Pan Sea swept back and forth across the forest and hills in widening arcs to try and find some evidence of the Legate’s trail, only to find nothing. Fuming with suppressed rage, Hurricane flew to the top of a cumulus cloud and draped himself across it. Pan Sea followed shortly afterwards, setting his helmet down on the cushiony surface next to him. The two pegasi scanned the land below from their lofty perch, all but giving up on the search. “I can’t believe we lost him,” Hurricane growled. He flexed his wings, arching the tips to meet each other over his head. The poison had left his muscles badly cramped and his stamina greatly reduced, making it difficult to fly for several hours straight. Hurricane, however, had been flying for several days straight, only stopping to sleep or eat. His wings burned, and he had lost half of his secondary feathers. At least his strong primaries were mostly unaffected by Galm’s Elixir. Pan Sea coughed nervously into his foreleg. “Um, perhaps we should just forget about Streak Wing, Commander. Or at least take a break. That would be good, sir. Don’t we have a more important mission, anyway? I would think finding a new land would be more important than this wind duck hunt. I know Cirra only has enough food to last a month or two before we’re completely out.” Hurricane rolled onto his back and grumbled. “Gods be damned if I let a traitor attack Cirra twice and live. Streak Wing needs to pay. Even if we ignore him and find a new land, imagine how much havoc he and his followers could cause during the migration. He has some of the best trained soldiers in the Legion with him. And you know how good they were with their hit and run tactics.” Pan Sea gulped and dipped his head. He had never seen pegasi move like that before, wreathing themselves in cloud to stalk their prey. He hadn’t seen them, period. Not until they started diving out of the sky in their ambush. He could only imagine the difficulty the Legion would have in protecting its supplies and civilians against pegasi like them, especially at nightfall. Scraping a bit of dirt off of his hoof, Hurricane let his legs dangle off of the cloud. “We have to kill Streak Wing. He’s too dangerous to let live.” Looking at the trees below and the skies above, Pan Sea nibbled on his hoof as he thought. “Well, we know that they went to the south or west. Is there anything to the west, as far as you know, sir?” Hurricane shook his head. “Nothing. At least, that’s what the explorers told me last year. They went as far as the mountains and back and didn’t find anything of importance. Just trees and hills.” Sitting up, Hurricane turned to face the south. “But there was something that they did mention to me. There was a sizeable structure a good eighty or ninety miles south of here. A fortress of some sort, with walls of solid onyx and battlements of impressive strength. They said it was some sort of Crystal Pony city. Although I doubt that the warlords have the means or the desire to organize even a modest settlement, I know that the fortress does indeed exist. Perhaps we might find Streak Wing heading in that direction.” Pan Sea raised an eyebrow. “You knew about a Crystal Pony encampment and didn’t do anything about it? Why?” He glanced at Hurricane nervously before shuffling his hooves across the cloud. “I mean, I’m sure you had good reasons, but—” “Because I didn’t want to waste Cirran lives on destroying a distant and out of the way fortress that was of no bother to the Diamond Kingdom or the Low Valleys, that’s why,” Hurricane interrupted. “Crystal Ponies are stubborn as all hell when it comes to defending something they think they own. Just take Legate Thunder Hawk’s campaign against warlord Pyrite in the Middle Pass. Fifteen thousand dead to dispatch an encampment in the mountains numbering no more than five thousand. It’d cost so much more to destroy a stronger force inside a fortress. I don’t need to be throwing away the lives of my ponies on something like that. Let them come to us and do the attacking where we can dissect their ranks easily. It’s the best way to deal with them.” Fluttering his wings, Hurricane hopped off of the cloud and began to circle higher and higher, Pan Sea following him close behind. They rode a light thermal up through the troposphere until they were several miles above the ground, offering Hurricane a good look at the world below. Gliding below some cirrus clouds, Hurricane began to fly to the south, looking for a break in the storm below. “Come on, clear up you bastards,” he whispered to himself, his tired wings working to keep him aloft in the thin air. After several minutes of flying, his prayers were answered when a thin oculus opened above the plains to the south. The fields stretched out in every direction, but nestled in the center of their incredible snowbound brilliance was a single, solitary structure, its masonry as black as the darkest night. Smiling, Hurricane began a rapid descent, feeling his ears pop as the pressure rapidly increased. His steep descent took him to speeds he had only reached a few times in his life, and he flattened his ears against the shrill winds his projectile shape cut through. He squinted his eyes against the cold air, feeling them begin to water beyond control, and he started to steer his descent with his wingtips alone. The thrill of diving at such a speed was remarkable, and he would have laughed if the air wouldn’t have choked him to death for doing so. Feeling the air begin to tremble around him as he approached incredible speeds, Hurricane quickly dropped his legs and slowed his descent. He had approached the speed barrier that no Cirran could pass through, when all of sound seemed to disappear until there was only the wind and the flier. He had heard the stories of foolish pegasi who tried to break the barrier; how their wings had been torn from their body, how the sudden explosion of thunder and color proved absolutely devastating to any flying too close. The boundaries of the Gods were not so easily passed, and Hurricane had no intention of risking his neck on attempting to do so. He had a mission, and that came first and foremost in his mind. The trees whipped past Hurricane’s tail as he descended closer and closer to the canopy below. He occasionally twisted or rolled to the side as a stray branch reached out to ensnare him, and the leaves swayed in the wake he left behind. He tried to measure his speed as he flew. He figured he must have been going eighty or ninety miles per hour. Undoubtedly, he was going much faster during the dive, but he had no real way of knowing how fast. Several hours of flight took him to within twenty miles of the fortress, and he descended into a clearing, panting from his flight. He stumbled his landing but managed to recover into a trot, burning off his momentum with open wings as he came to a halt. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Hurricane turned and sat against a nearby tree. He was not as young as he used to be. He would need to remember that next time before sprinting several dozen miles in one go. It took many minutes for Pan Sea to finally catch up, and when he did, Hurricane’s mouth twitched in amusement as the Legionnaire immediately began to preen his feathers. At least ten badly frayed quills were pulled from his wings in the first few minutes, and Pan Sea grumbled the whole time. While he was working, Hurricane took the time to inspect his own wings as well. They surprisingly weren’t nearly as bad as Pan Sea’s, but they could use some work. One or two loose feathers were pulled, and Hurricane smoothed the rest into place with his teeth. It occurred to him that the last time he had his feathers preened was when Swift Spear cleaned them the night before he left. A pang of loneliness filled his heart, as well as a strong longing for the friendly skies of Cloudsdale. It was difficult to leave all those he loved behind, but they never said being a leader was about making easy decisions. Instead, Hurricane turned the loneliness he felt into a stronger resolve to succeed in finding Cirra a new home, and he could start by killing Streak Wing and ending his dissention once and for all. It took ten minutes for Pan Sea to decide his wings were in neat enough an order for his liking. Trotting over to Hurricane, he sat down next to the Commander and held his helmet between his hooves. “Are you sure you couldn’t have gone a teeny bit slower, Commander? I had a hard enough time keeping up as it was.” Hurricane released a single breath of air that passed for a laugh. “No time to lose, Pansy. We don’t want Streak Wing to get too far ahead of us, now don’t we?” Swiveling his head across the tiny clearing they were nested in, Hurricane’s ears perked. “Especially not now.” Standing up, the black pegasus began to trot to the opposite end of the clearing. Pan Sea leaned to his side, trying to see around Hurricane’s body. “What is it, Commander? Did you find something?” “I found something, alright.” Bending down, Hurricane nosed a pile of leaves off of a glinting piece of metal lying covered near the tree roots. He smiled and balanced the blade between his hooves. Cirran lettering glared back at him, the grooves of the characters filled with dried blood. Looking again to the south, Hurricane tossed the knife aside and stretched his wings. Pan Sea scrambled to his hooves and galloped over to Hurricane. “Was that Streak Wing’s, Commander? Are we back on the trail?” Walking towards the edge of the clearing, Hurricane flicked his ears in response. “We’re back on the trail, Pansy. Streak Wing isn’t too far from us now.” Pan Sea exhaled and checked his sword. “Are we going to be flying then, sir?” “No. We’re going to walk. We’d be too exposed in the air anyway.” Glancing over his shoulder, Hurricane’s lips parted in a thin smile. “Looks like you finally got that break you wanted.” > Chapter 9: The Best Laid Plans > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 9: The Best Laid Plans Even under several inches of snow, the scent of pine needles was fresh in Commander Hurricane’s nostrils. His and Pan Sea’s walk had taken them into the night and fifteen miles closer to the Crystal Pony fortress. While they still had yet to find any signs of Streak Wing and his followers, Hurricane knew it was only a matter of time. He had the scent, and it was leading him closer and closer to the fortress. For the most part, Hurricane simply tried to follow the trees with noticeable gashes on their trunks from where one of the rogues dragged his wingblades along. The jagged tears along the wood could only be made by the skysteel scales of the blades, leaving out the possibility that they were carved by Crystal warriors. Besides, Hurricane had seen the wounds on too many bodies, especially equine bodies. Visions of fire and ash, choking soot and a thunderous roar danced across his eyes, and he shook his head to clear them. There was a squelching noise to his right, and Hurricane spun on his hooves to face it, his head already leaning towards the hilt of his sword. He dropped the position, however, when he saw Pan Sea shaking his hooves in disgust. “Ewww…” Hurricane sighed and trotted over to Pan Sea. “What is it? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little mud.” Pan Sea shook his head and began dragging his hoof through the snow to clean it. “It’s not mud, Commander, it’s… dirt.” Raising an eyebrow, Hurricane looked at Pan Sea’s hoof. “Dirt? That’s what mud is, Pansy.” “No, not that kind of dirt… like, dirt dirt, Commander.” Realization dawned on Hurricane’s face, swiftly accompanied by a disappointed glare in Pan Sea’s direction. “Shit, Pansy. It’s shit. You don’t need to be making such a big deal out of it.” Shouldering past the Legionnaire, Hurricane crested a hilltop. His gaze hardened, and he slunk closer to the ground. “Although, maybe you should.” Those words brought firm and immediate panic to Pan Sea’s voice. “What? Why?! Is it something bad?” He scrambled up the hill towards Hurricane, trying to shake his hoof as clean as he possibly could. “What is—?” He was silenced by a powerful buck from Hurricane that sent him tumbling back down the hill and into a thick tree trunk. Hurricane turned over his shoulder and hissed at him, motioning with his head to be quiet and come listen. Pan Sea complied, swallowing his disgust at the last traces of ‘dirt’ that clung to his hoof. Crawling to the edge of the hilltop, Pan Sea felt his stomach go into his hooves. There in the clearing, with a perfect view of the onyx fortress between two groves of trees, sat the deserter encampment. There was no fire and only a few tents between them, but the camp was heavily patrolled by ex-Legionnaires, all in painted red armor. Sentries sat in the trees, each with an uninterrupted view of the entire camp, as well as the sentry on either side. Streak Wing had chosen the ground for his encampment well; there was no way that Hurricane or Pan Sea could sneak in and assassinate him without alerting the other soldiers. Which brought about the second glaring problem. When Streak Wing left Hurricane, he had ten deserters with him. Now, Hurricane counted no less than thirty-nine pegasi, most of them centurions, and even a few Legates. Where the additional deserters came from, he had no idea, but he knew that even for as skilled as he was, Hurricane couldn’t take on several Legates and centurions at the same time. His heart sank. How was he supposed to kill Streak Wing now? “That’s a lot of soldiers,” Pan Sea whispered next to Hurricane. Taking off his helmet, the Legionnaire sat it on the ground behind him so it wouldn’t catch the moonlight as he turned towards his commander. “What do you suppose we do?” Hurricane tapped a hoof against his chin. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” A shout arose from the center of the camp, and Hurricane saw a pegasus sprint out from one of the tents to where several of the deserters were clustered in a brawl. Even in the darkness, the red feathers against his bladed, white wings stood out like fire in the night. Charging into the knot of ponies, Streak Wing sent several tumbling before separating the rest from their entanglement. His sword was drawn and his bladed wings were held against his sides, and soon enough the camp fell quiet. When it did, Streak Wing relaxed and returned his sword to its scabbard. “Enough!” the Legate shouted into his soldiers. “Enough! I know you’re restless! I know you’re itching for a fight! Stay your blades and hooves for but another night and day, and I swear to you, you will have it!” The soldiers murmured to one another, but Streak Wing’s eyes silenced them. He began to pace in wide circles among his troops, checking them for wounds. The words did not stop there, however. “Hurricane is dead, that much is for certain. Galm’s Elixir is lethal in the tiniest of doses. I plunged a blade soaked in the poison into his chest!” Hurricane winced, his hoof absent-mindedly travelling to the wound in his ribcage. “So to celebrate, we’re going to party at Onyx Ridge and trade for whatever valuables they have—bits, weapons, mares—before that army of Unionists we spotted on the flight down here moves in on them.” Hurricane raised an eyebrow. Unionists? They were still around? From what he had gathered, their leadership was broken and the barbarians had them on the run. How could it be that they were still fighting? Streak Wing wasn’t done talking yet, and his wingblades rattled as he shook out his feathers for emphasis. “After we get some Crystal blood on our hooves, we’re flying back to Cirra. With a few key assassinations, the nation will be in turmoil in mere months. We come back in and take the palace before the Praetorian is able to respond, and bam! We’re now in charge of the nation!” The deserters gave Streak Wing a chorus of guttural cheering and support, and the traitor returned them a toothy smile. Holding up a wing to silence them, he began to pace across the clearing with intent and purpose. “When I am Commander Maximus, Cirra will once again become the great empire it was back in Dioda. You all fought in the Red Cloud War; you all know what Hurricane lost us! I’ll get it back! With the earth ponies and the unicorns subdued into an appropriate fighting force, we can take Dioda back from the griffons and escape this damnable blizzard! And then we’ll show them true Cirran fury! Not a one will be spared! Dioda will run red from coast to coast with Gryphon blood, suffocating in Gryphon feathers, and would we want it any other way?” Streak Wing vigorously shook his head as his soldiers shouted down Gryphus. “No! We would not.” Glancing to the position of the moon, he smoothed some of his feathers, and his voice along with them. “The night grows late. Tomorrow we make preparations for the journey. The day after that?” He laughed, a dark and menacing thing that sent chills down even Hurricane’s spine. “The Unionists are going to be advancing on our ‘friends’ at Onyx Ridge. How’s about we show them a taste of true Cirran fury?” His soldiers cheered him one last time, and then Streak Wing disappeared into one of the larger tents with several of the other Legates. Lanterns were lit, and Hurricane could see them spread a map across the table before the canvas flap was shut. The soldiers then began to disperse, spreading across the campsite or to their bedrolls on the stone. The sentries whistled a few notes to each other, and then all was silent. Hurricane stepped back from the hilltop and fluttered several feet back before walking in the opposite direction of the camp, Pan Sea right on his tail. When he was sure they were out of earshot of the camp, Pan Sea nervously trotted up to Hurricane, his flared feathers betraying his alarm. “What are we gonna do, sir? If they’re going to go to Onyx Ridge, we might not have much time.” “I know that,” Hurricane countered. “The smart thing to do would be to wait for them to return from their expedition and kill Streak Wing while they’re tired and weak from the fight with the Unionists. Fighting through scores of Crystal warriors is bound to be tiresome.” Pan Sea breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good, that’s really good. I was worried you were going to say something… else…” He stopped as Hurricane’s teeth barely made themselves visible in the dim moonlight. “Oh no, oh no no, sir, please don’t, sir, please don’t.” “Fortunately I have a better plan than the ‘smart thing’. It’s bound to be much more fun than waiting around for them to get back.” Having travelled sufficient distance from Streak Wing’s camp, Hurricane jumped into a tree to fix his bedroll between two branches. “We’re going to attack him right in the thick of the chaos the Unionist raid on Onyx Ridge is sure to create.” “But sir…” Pan Sea whined, flying up into a tree next to Hurricane. “Why must we do these things the hard way? What happened to the calm and collected Commander that I knew? He’d never do something so… stupid, if you don’t mind me saying.” Hurricane grinned as he hung his provisions from tree branches and settled into his bedroll. “He died with the poison, Pan Sea. At least for the time being,” he rubbed his hooves together, “I’m going to have some fun getting vengeance on that bastard.” ----- Smart Cookie awoke in an expensive bed in an expensive tent furnished with several expensive decorations. It took him a moment to recall where he was. Visions of a cliff side, canine monstrosities, charging Crystal Ponies, and a beautiful mare flitted across his eyes as he struggled to sit up in the bed. It was comfortable enough, with plenty of bird down in the pillows and tender straw in the mattress. If he didn’t know any better, the Representative would have assumed he was sleeping in the bed of royalty. A plate of food sat on the table next to him. Covering the silver platter was a healthy selection of potatoes, lettuce, rhubarb, and even some carrots. Smart Cookie’s mouth watered, and he greedily reached for the plate. He hadn’t seen this much food in one place in weeks! The next few minutes were an unforgettable experience for the famished Representative. The meat of the potatoes was brilliantly yellow, the lettuce and rhubarb were crunchy and firm, and the carrots overwhelmed his mouth with flavor. In just a short while, Smart Cookie had downed more food than he had eaten since he had left Amber Field, and it was delicious. Taking a large gulp of water from the pitcher next to the table, the Representative reclined in the bed and listened to the world outside through the painted canvas walls. The muffled voices of soldiers reached him through the coarse fabric as they shouted orders to each other, but there was laughter and merriment behind it. Flocks of birds twittered all around the tent, feasting on whatever scraps of food the army left behind for them. The atmosphere simply sounded lively and happy, something that Smart Cookie didn’t expect to hear in a Crystal Pony encampment. “May I come in?” Smart Cookie nearly jumped out of his skin, not expecting to hear that voice so soon. It was the same flowing and melodic voice he remembered from the plains, gently tickling its way past the canvas and towards the Representative’s ears. He turned towards the large door flap of the tent and found himself having to swallow the urge to gasp in awe. Smiling, the jade mare pushed aside the flap and walked into the tent, her tall frame easily fitting within the high ceiling. Wings fluttered against her sides, shaking snow off of their feathers, while the long horn protruding from her dark green mane filled a glass of water for Smart Cookie with Arcana. Pulling a chair up to his bedside, she sat on the comically undersized seat as the light glittered off of her crystalline body. Swallowing sharply, Smart Cookie moved his eyes from her horn to her wings and back again. “You’re… you’re a winged unicorn?” The mare laughed, an easy and lighthearted sound that teased the earth pony’s ears. “Technically speaking, yes. But some also call me a horned pegasus. Which one is more accurate?” Smart Cookie had no words for her response, and she waved away his speechlessness with a kind smile. “They’re both correct, but to call me one or the other is to call you a wingless pegasus, or a hornless unicorn. No, I’m something else entirely. I’m an alicorn.” “An… alicorn?” Smart Cookie’s head was reeling. “But only Celestis and Lunis are alicorns. There’s no way—” The jade mare quietly shushed him. “I am not one of your gods, but just because the form of an alicorn is revered does not make it holy. I assure you, I was naturally born forty years ago, even if there was much fanfare. As far as we know, I’m one of only three alicorns in our history.” Smart Cookie released a thoughtful breath and sagged in the bed. “That’s just… wow. This is just so much to take in… I never thought I’d meet an actual alicorn one day.” Scratching his head, Smart Cookie released that he was missing his hat. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have my—?” The feeling of his familiar feathered hat settling on his head silenced him, and he looked over just in time to see the last traces of a blue aura fade from the mare’s horn. “Thank you. You really saved my life back at the valley. Mine and the Chancellor’s.” The alicorn angled her head to the side. “The Chancellor… he’s the brown one with the silly hat, correct?” Smart Cookie nodded. “Yeah, that’s Chancellor Puddinghead. Keeping after him is a…” Words failed him for a moment as he tried to sort through his adjectives and find a suitable one to describe the eccentric Chancellor. “Is certainly an interesting experience.” Scratching his head, Smart Cookie looked towards one of the canvas walls with a small porthole cut through it. “What exactly were those things that were chasing us, anyway? Some sort of dog monster-thing?” The mare’s response was a single word. “Vargr.” “Gesundheit.” “No, no,” the alicorn laughed and shook her head. “That’s what they’re called. Vargr. The dogs of the deep. They hunt for gems, crystals, and especially diamonds as some sort of primal instinct. Although they have been known to go after ponies when they fancy a bit of fresh meat.” Smart Cookie blew air out of his teeth. “Wow. So, on a scale of one to ten, how dead were we if we hadn’t ran into you?” “Easily a ten,” the alicorn chuckled. “At least for you, if you don’t mind me saying. That Chancellor of yours has got some pretty fast legs, and I don’t think he was going to slow down to help you out at all.” The Representative murmured some personal opinions under his breath before reclining in his bed. “That’s for sure. Puddinghead isn’t exactly the most loyal.” He paused before laughing slightly and turning to face the mare. “I’m sorry, I should have asked this earlier. If you don’t mind me asking, what’d you say your name was?” The green mare stood up and gestured for Smart Cookie to do the same. “Jade. It’s nice to meet you, mister…?” “Smart Cookie, Representative of the Low Valleys, Chairpony of the Board of Representatives,” the orange stallion chirped. Trotting over to Jade’s side to keep up with her lengthy strides, he felt a new sense of meekness next to the towering mare. “Did you have any sort of title or anything? I could only imagine an alicorn such as yourself would be distinguished in some way.” Jade laughed, pushing aside the tent flap for Smart Cookie to exit. “The army calls me Commander, the civilians call me Queen. My father, now, he called me Princess.” Smart Cookie felt the words over with his tongue. “I like Princess. Do you mind, Miss Jade?” “No, not at all. The titles themselves are inconsequential to me. All I care about is leading my subjects. Sometimes, that means being the Queen or Princess. Other times,” she gestured with a broad sweep of her hoof, “it means leading an army.” Smart Cookie gasped as he looked out across the plains from the tent’s positioning on the only hill for miles. Thousands, tens of thousands of tents spread out in every direction along neat lines, interrupted every hundred or so to make way for a clearing that branched off into lateral side streets. The clearings were home to fireplaces, and the sheen of thousands of Crystal Ponies out and about nearly blinded the Representative. A rough series of ramparts, somehow dignified in their hasty creation, surrounded the miles-wide camp until they ended against a river to the north. Princess Jade watched with slight bemusement as Smart Cookie struggled to close his gaping jaw. “Quite impressive, isn’t it? The culmination of fifteen years of hard work. This is the largest Union army in the Crystal Empire. In fact, with the exception of local garrisons at some of our settlements, this is the only Union army of the Crystal Empire.” “How…” Smart Cookie rubbed his eyes, trying to size how large the camp was. “How many soldiers do you have?” “Seventy-five thousand in total, with another ten thousand support staff limited to non-combat duties. I think it’s near the size of some of Cirra’s legions, if I’m correct.” Gesturing with her long horn, she began to walk down the hill. “Walk with me?” Smart Cookie hesitated before galloping up to her side and settling into a comfortable trot to keep up with the mare’s strides. “Not quite, from what I know with dealing with them. A Cirran legion is usually ninety-six thousand strong; not really sure why they don’t just make it an even hundred thousand.” Glancing at the tents around them, Smart Cookie adjusted his hat before hastily adding: “It’s still an impressive size for an army, anyway.” “Aye,” Jade agreed, dipping her head as she did so. “This army began as little more than the dream of my father, a dream I was destined to inherit. How much it has grown since then.” A pair of generals trotted up to Jade, and after exchanging a few quick words, the Princess dismissed them with a wave of her wing. Walking further into the ordered confusion of the camp, Jade gestured towards several lowly tents home to only the greenest of privates. “When my father first started his crusade to unify the Crystal Pony tribes under one banner, these were the kind of ponies he had at his disposal. Young, poor, oftentimes sick and with no training, they were the backbone of this army’s humble beginnings. In time he shaped them, molded them with gentle encouragements and harsh discipline, gave the Union a spine of steel. In time, they became the finest soldiers the world has ever seen. You just saw two of them.” Smart Cookie’s eyebrows rose as he whistled his astonishment. Quickly glancing across her shoulder to see that her companion was entertained, Jade motioned with a hoof towards where twenty soldiers were sparring at once in a massive brawl. “Father was a sort of revolutionary when it came to training soldiers. He believed that training should mimic the chaos and discord of an actual battle. Survival was taught first; military discipline was taught later. After all, what good is a company that can march in a straight line if they’re gutted on barbarian iron?” “Not much good,” Smart Cookie agreed. Princess Jade nodded. “Exactly. This was how he built his army. Through training came success. Through success, recognition. Through recognition, influence. Through influence… well, then you have a cause. This is our cause, my father’s dream. To unify the Crystal Ponies as one race, one empire, not disparate groups who fight each other and slaughter innocents for their coin and valuables. No, we’re far better than that. The warlords have tarnished our name for far too long. It’s up to us to stop it and make ourselves more than murderers and thieves… more than barbarians.” “And you really think that’s possible?” Jade grunted in response, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. “I have to believe it’s possible. This is too important a cause to give up. Right now, power is in the hooves of those who would abuse it, like warlord Halite, instead of those who would use it for the common good.” “Like you.” “Yes, like me,” agreed Jade. “Where Halite and his allies fight for money and simply for reason to fight, I fight for peace and safety. Understandably a harder cause, but father taught me that because the cause is harder, that makes it worth it in the end.” “Your father sounds like a pretty cool stallion. I’d like to meet him someday.” Smart Cookie looked on to Jade’s face for a nod, but instead he found it covered in sorrow. In a blink, however, it was gone, and the Princess only had a blank slate across her features, through which a small fire of determination shone through. “I wish you could. But he’s gone on to the Summer Lands. He was a great stallion, a great Crystal Pony. He would have done so much more for us…” She sighed and kicked a stone away as she walked. “Sadly, it was not meant to be. Five years ago, the army had warlord Halite cornered in the northeastern fields. He had the mountains to his back, the ocean on his flank, and Cirra to the south. How he let his forces get worked into such a position, we didn’t know, but we weren’t going to sit on such a gift and let him slip away. Father and I gathered what we had—probably little more than twenty thousand soldiers at the time—and we threw everything at him. “I think I know now that it was exactly what Halite wanted. Hurricane’s eyes stretch far and wide, and he saw the mustering soldiers on his northwestern borders. I can only assume he saw us as some sort of threat; Tartarus, he’d been fighting Crystal warlords for fifteen years by then. He sent in two legions to stomp us out, not understanding that we were the Union, not the barbarians.” Smart Cookie shuddered, trying to imagine what it was like to be under aerial assault and outnumbered ten to one. “He didn’t recognize that you were uniformed, or that you were under the Unionist banner?” Jade shook her head, a mixture of grief and anger revealed through gritted teeth. “In those days, we didn’t have any sort of uniform. Our soldiers wore what they could scavenge from the barbarians, or what they brought from home. And our banner was little different from any other warlord’s standard. Commander Hurricane thought we were just another group of barbarians foolishly threatening his borders. He—” she gulped, steadying her breath. “He led the assault on her camp. He cut apart our soldiers. There was fire everywhere. I tried to stay and fight, tried to help save as many of my soldiers as I could. I downed many a Legionnaire that day, but I had hoped that my compassion towards their wounded would be enough to show them that I wasn’t another barbarian.” Smart Cookie ran a hoof through his mane. “It didn’t work?” “No. It didn’t. And as the perimeter of our camp crumbled to nothingness and my forces continued to get slaughtered, I came across my father. He was bloodied and leaning on a halberd, breathing heavily. He told me to go. I tried to argue with him, but…” She gasped and swallowed down her emotions. “My father saved my life that day. He caught Hurricane’s attention so that I could run and rebuild the army elsewhere. “I ran, and as I looked over my shoulder, I saw Hurricane flay him alive with his sword.” Shaking slightly, Princess Jade paused by a fire to catch her breath and dry the tears that had formed on her cheeks. “I will never forget that image. Halite escaped in the confusion and retreated to Onyx Ridge to continue building his own army, while I lost damn near the entire Union that day. The Unification War would have been over had not Cirra interfered. Instead, I find myself in the same position I was in five years ago. Halite is cornered, and my army stands ready to crush him. Will this time be any different?” She shrugged her shoulders, a motion Smart Cookie found interesting because of how her wings moved as well. “Only time will tell, but know this: I don’t blame Hurricane for what happened five years ago. I don’t blame my father or myself for falling for Halite’s trap. I only blame Halite for what happened, and before the week is out, I’ll have his head on a pike, or die trying.” Smart Cookie was taken aback by the Princess’ fire. “And you’re moving on Halite now, I assume? Where is he? How big of an army does he have?” They summited a hill together, and Jade pointed with her horn across a long clearing to the southeast. Several miles away, at the neck of two rivers and surrounded by earthen fortifications, stood a fortress as black as night. Its solid black stone walls towered impressively over the earth below, spaced with fortifications that supported catapults and ballistae aplenty. Smart Cookie wasn’t sure how large the fortress was on the inside, but he figured it had room for thousands of soldiers behind its black walls and intimidating gate. “You’re… you’re going to attack that?” Concerns over Jade’s safety filled his mind, and he fought to suppress them. Jade was the commander of her army, after all. She would have another idea of how to keep her ponies safe. “I’m afraid so,” she muttered softly. Smart Cookie was astounded, but before he could get the chance to speak, Jade stopped him with a look. “I know. You worry about the safety of my army, about my safety, and you wish that I had thought up another way to destroy Halite. I wish that too, but it’s simply not feasible given the current state of affairs. Food is quickly growing scarce, something I’m sure you’re familiar with, and a standing army is a hungry army. I don’t have the time to wait for another solution. Either Halite surrenders, which I know he is not going to do, or we break Onyx Ridge apart by force.” Her sweeping wing graced over a hundred catapults and siege towers standing in the clearing to the west of the army, each one bristling with hooks and pulleys and weaponry for taking the fortress. Smart Cookie remained appalled. “Surely there’s another way! You can’t get through those walls like that! I mean, I don’t even think your siege towers are tall enough to scale those walls!” Jade agreed, her head dipping slightly farther than a usual nod with her weariness. “Unfortunately, they’re mere distractions to keep their warriors away from the gates until our catapults can pound them in. Thousands of soldiers will die in this battle, and I very well may be one of them. I am at peace with that. The entirety of the Unionist movement has been building to this moment, this singular event that will determine the fate of the Crystal Ponies.” She sat on her flank, wings drooping slightly by her armored sides. “I wish we had better odds. Halite’s cornered in terms of geography, but we’re cornered with time. I’m sure he knows that we’re out here in these fields anyways. The longer we wait, the longer he has to prepare, and the more food that the army uses up.” “But what if your catapults can’t batter down those walls? They look pretty strong to me.” “Then I have to use my last resort option,” said Jade. “I’m the only one in this army with wings. I can get over those walls. That gets me access to the gate controls. If I can fight my way through the garrison of soldiers standing up there, I should be able to get the gate open. Then it’s only a matter of holding the gates open to allow my army to filter in before I eventually get overwhelmed. Hopefully enough of my soldiers will have gotten in by then to get the gates open again in earnest and defend the controls.” “You’d really give up your life that easily?” Smart Cookie was impressed. He could never imagine doing something so selfless as that. Princess Jade’s neck shook as she nodded her head, but her eyes remained fixed on the distant fortress. “Yes I would. It’s not something that I would like to do, but the fate of the Union hinges on this one battle. I won’t let a fear of death keep me from letting my father’s dream be realized.” Smart Cookie dipped his head. He suddenly felt so insignificant and worthless standing next to Jade. She was a selfless, determined princess who wanted nothing more than for her ponies to be happy and safe, and was willing to give her life to do so. She was the epitome of all things honorable and righteous in the world. A true leader, and one who deserved to lead more than anypony else. And what did that make himself? A cowardly earth pony who was concerned about finding a new land solely so that he could be done with Puddinghead’s company and could seek his election to the chancellorship next year? He didn’t deserve to be standing here next to Princess Jade. He didn’t deserve to be talking with her, or to know her name, or to think that her flank was pretty— The Representative slapped himself, hoping that his blush wasn’t visible through his orange fur. What was he thinking! A Crystal alicorn princess was so far out of his league that he didn’t even exist on the same plane of reality as she did! Stupid, stupid, stupid! If Jade noticed Smart Cookie’s internal strife, she chose not to acknowledge it. Instead she focused her attention on the brown earth pony blundering up the hill towards them. His gait was decidedly hurried, and he had to pull his hat out of his face several times as he stormed the hill. Cresting the hill between the two, Puddinghead coughed several times into his foreleg as he stood to catch his breath. “Smart Cookie… there you are… phew… I’ve been looking all over for you! How’ve ya been, secretary?” Smart Cookie shrugged off Puddinghead’s remarks while Jade backed up to give them space. “I’m fine, Chancellor. I was just having a lovely talk with Princess Jade here about the Crystal Union. It’s actually pretty interesting. I would never have known how it all works otherwise.” Puddinghead’s expression told Smart Cookie that, contrary to his belief, the information was not interesting at all. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Listen, Smart Cookie, we gotta talk.” The Representative raised his eyebrow but refused to budge. “Yeah? What about, your chancellorship?” Puddinghead glared at the green mare standing slightly behind Smart Cookie. “I meant talk in private.” He waited for his message to be heard by all present, and soon enough Jade coughed into her wing and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, I’ve got some business to take care of with the soldiers,” said Jade. “I know you’re on some important mission or whatever from what the Chancellor told me earlier, but I do hope that you’ll at least hang around for dinner before you leave.” Taking to the air with her beautiful wings, the Princess hovered in place a second longer. “Talk to you later.” Smart Cookie watched as Jade flew away, shaking his head as she disappeared from his sight. Turning back to Puddinghead, the two began to walk back down into the camp. “What is it, Chancellor? Are the Unionists treating you all right?” “Of course they are, silly, they recognize true authority when they see it,” Puddinghead gloated. “I made sure that they stuffed our bags with food and water for the next leg of the journey. Speaking of which, I’d very much like to get on that as soon as possible, if that’s alright with you, my esteemed secretary.” Smart Cookie grumbled but refrained from calling Puddinghead out on his mistake. “We don’t have to be leaving right away, sir. The Unionists are actually really helpful. They’re even offering us dinner, too! How could you turn that up?” Puddinghead remained skeptical. “I don’t know, Smart Cookie, they just rub my hat the wrong way. I just want to be getting out of here as soon as possible. The sooner we find a new land, the sooner I can get back to throwing wild parties!” “Can we at least stay for the night, Chancellor? I’d like some time to get some rest before we start walking again, and I think the warm food would do us good.” Puddinghead rolled his eyes. “Fine, Smart Cookie, but only because you asked nicely. But in the morning, we gotta put some serious distance behind us! This land won’t find itself!” He began to bounce away, his hooves acting like springs to his jumps and his hat flopping wildly on his head. Smart Cookie began to follow with slow steps, scrunching his muzzle to one side of his face in concentrated thought. As he descended the hill, he looked on again at the distant black fortress and the miniscule figures he could see approaching its gate. He thought of what Jade had said and what they were going to be going through in two days’ time. He thought of the odds they were going against and his hopeless feelings for the alicorn. He thought of the idea of a cause, and realized he didn’t have one he could call his own. ----- The moaning and grinding of gears filled the air and rattled Clover’s teeth in her jaw. All around her, warlord Halite’s soldiers shouted orders to each other. Belongings were checked, scouts watched the nearby hills, and the bindings on the two unicorns were tightened while the Crystal barbarians waited for the massive gates of Onyx Ridge to groan open. The fortress had been intimidating from afar, but Clover felt absolutely insignificant and worthless next to the mighty walls of onyx. They were solid slabs of stone that stood from ground to rail at two hundred feet tall. Their spotless, black faces were placed at a sharp incline from the ground, giving them support and resilience against catapults and other siege weapons. The walls bristled with rows of sharp spikes to keep ponies from scaling them, and innumerous murder slits decorated the surface at regular intervals. Complicated grates stuck out from under overhangs in the walls, and Clover supposed that they were used to pour boiling oil down entire swaths of onyx at once. Even as impressive as the walls themselves were, the gates were even more so. Three sets of thick iron grates all stood within a gatehouse consisting of three massive towers of onyx stone. Judging by their structure, Clover guessed that each one held the opening mechanisms for its respective gate. The huge gears clanked and rattled as the several-ton gates slowly crawled their way up the sides of the entryway. Even without a significant garrison, the fortress would still be impenetrable. A thick powder of ground onyx flew into the air as the gates pulled through their grooves, and Clover found herself choking on the heavy dust. Beside her, Platinum wheezed into the sweat-stained and muddy remains of her royal garments. The Princess looked even more miserable than Clover had ever seen her, and seeing Platinum in such a hopeless state crushed her spirits. No matter how bad things were, the Princess had never let herself be defeated. Whiny, yes, dramatic, of course, but defeated?  That was the one emotion Clover had never seen from her. To see it now, and so plainly embroidered across her face, was a shocking wakeup call. A swift kick to her flank prompted the green mare to hobble forward towards the gaping maw of Onyx Ridge. She chanced a look across her shoulder only to see Halite glowering at her, his sword grasped between his teeth. She yelped as Halite kicked her again, and without further ceremony began to shamble into the fortress. “Welcome to Onyx Ridge,” Halite hissed to her and Platinum. “I hope you enjoy your stay here, because you ain’t getting out unless somepony pays the right price for your sorry coat.” “One day, Halite,” Platinum weakly retorted, “One day you’ll get what’s coming to you.” The bludgeoning of Halite’s sword across Platinum’s flank launched the Princess into a pile of filth immediately within the perimeter of Onyx Ridge. “Humph. Spirited. We’ll see how long that lasts. Take a look around you, Princess. Tell me, what do you think happens to spirited property here?” Clover spared the opportunity to survey her surroundings, and she had to place a hoof to her mouth to stop herself from vomiting. The immediate area around the gate was filled with rough tables and stalls where several bedraggled and shivering ponies stood hitched to posts. The stench was mortifying and overpowering, causing Clover to gag on her hoof. Crystal Ponies conversed with each other around the tables, regarding the hitched and tired ponies like property. Appraisals were made and bits and gems clattered across the rotten wood as ponies became slaves and changed owners, being led away on rough rope bridles towards one end of the clearing. Some tried to fight but were quickly subdued by the stronger Crystal warriors, and ultimately they ended up either resigned to their fate or simply too exhausted to resist. The two unicorns shuddered as Halite ushered them further into the complex, where they got the opportunity to come face to face with several of the prisoners. Most were too weak to say anything, but Clover understood the message in their eyes, the silent pleas for help. The majority of slaves were simple earth ponies or unicorns taken during raids, but there were several Crystal Ponies tied down as well. The green mare felt herself shudder and involuntarily reach for the void crystal ring on her horn as she saw several unicorns with black tendrils marring their once colorful horns, the effects of void poisoning all too clear in their bodies. Her hoof was quickly slammed away by the flat of a barbarian’s sword before she was kicked again to keep walking. “Help! Help, somepony help!” The distressed wails of a mare caught Clover’s attention, and she turned to see a bedraggled unicorn sprinting in an uneven gait away from a pair of barbarians. Her coat was a filthy lavender, although it was difficult to tell underneath the grime and blood that covered her body. Her mane was frayed and ripped apart, and her left foreleg had obviously been broken at some point and had never healed properly. A void crystal ring around her horn gave way to several toxic tendrils of void poisoning that had decayed the appendage into uselessness. Her eyes were fevered and her neck was sweaty, even in the cold. Before Clover could react, Halite shoved her aside and stepped forward to intercept the fleeing mare. The lavender unicorn tried to sidestep him, but the warlord was too quick. Just as her hooves began to slide in the mud and snow for traction, Halite coiled his hind legs underneath him and delivered a powerful kick to her jaw. The result was quick and painful. Bone crunched under the powerful blow, and Clover could see a spray of saliva and blood fly out of the mare’s mouth. Her scream was tripped up under her own tongue as her head was flung backwards from the buck. Making a complete reversal in midair, the prisoner landed on her face in the muck behind her. Several broken and bloodied teeth fell around her like snowflakes, leaving the mare whimpering, too weak to move or shout in agony. The two warriors that had been chasing her quickly trotted up to Halite and took possession of the incapacitated mare. As they struggled to haul her to her hooves, Halite wiped the blood off of his hooves and growled at his subordinates. “I hope she wasn’t worth too much.” One of the soldiers stopped to salute Halite while the other reattached the bridle to the mare’s face and gave a sharp tug on it. “No sir, she’s one of the no-sells. Feldspar and I were trying to take her back to the barracks for some fun, but she broke loose. Thanks for the assistance, sir.” Halite grunted and began to walk again, prodding Clover and Platinum along. “Then you should take better care of your game, Mica. I can’t be expected to step in whenever your quarry gets away from you.” The warrior known as Mica dipped his head and coughed nervously. “Yes, of course, warlord Halite. It won’t happen again.” Then he galloped towards where his companion stood with the unfortunate lavender mare in tow. Together, the three ponies rounded a corner and walked down an alleyway out of Clover’s sight. The only indication of where they were heading was the distressed whimpers and wails the captured mare occasionally gave out. The two unicorns weren’t spared much time to think about their fellow pony’s plight. A heavy blow to Clover’s flank caused her to stumbled forward and begin to hobble along on three legs, with the fourth held out to her side in pain. She noticed that Platinum was getting decidedly better treatment than her, but Clover wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She knew the price that the Princess had on her head, and she didn’t envy her friend at all. Walking several more minutes, Clover was able to gauge how many warriors Halite had in the fortress. There were hundreds of buildings ranging from simple one story barracks to a massive castle in the center, but the number ponies she had seen were considerably lower than what the infrastructure would suggest. Onyx Ridge was obviously built to hold well over a hundred thousand warriors; by her best guess, Clover would be surprised if there were barely more than twenty thousand. They soon enough came to a series of rough iron cages placed against the impressive bulk of an onyx wall at the western end of the fortress. There was no protection or overhang to shelter from rain or snow or wind; the cages were simply open and exposed to the elements. Hundreds of shivering and sick ponies sat gloomily in their cells, most without the energy to sit up for any extended period of time. But there was one thing Clover noticed about them all; they watched their captors silently and angrily, a fire burning in their eyes that she wouldn’t have expected to see from beaten and defeated ponies. Cage doors were opened, and the two unicorns were flung into their individual cells, side by side. A warrior advanced on Clover, and she shrank back into the corner of her cage in fear. Stooping down, the barbarian attached a heavy shackle of iron and void crystal to her neck. The weight of the metal and the hunger of the new crystal for her Arcana dragged Clover down to the floor of her cell in exhaustion. She was too tired to even move as the warrior shouted and sprinted from her cage to the one immediately next to her, leaving the door open. To her left, Clover could see Princess Platinum struggling against one Crystal barbarian as he tried to fix the manacle around her neck. The Princess was snarling and bucking with whatever energy she had left and was making the warrior work for it. Dainty hooves became powerful bludgeons, and one critical hit between the stallion’s knees brought the crystalline warrior to the ground. Before she could flee from her cell, however, the second warrior bull-rushed her, sending the white mare toppling back into the iron bars of her cage. She tried to climb to her hooves, but soon the heavy weight of the soldier on her back pinned her to the floor of her cell while another barbarian managed to fit the shackle around her neck. As soon as the void crystal touched her flesh, Platinum groaned and went limp, her eyes rolling back in her head. The fight with the soldiers had been exhausting, and the void crystals snuffed out whatever energy she had left. Satisfied that they had their prisoners secure, the barbarians left the cells and closed the doors behind them, turning the two locks on each gate before they began to tend to their other duties. Clover could see Halite watching her and Platinum from just beyond the cells, a smirk of iron across his face. “I hope you enjoy your stay in Onyx Ridge, mares. For one of you, you should be getting out relatively quick. The other,” he said as his eyes slid towards Clover, “can expect to be here for a long time. Make yourself comfortable around the soldiers. They’ll sure make themselves comfortable around you.” Wasting no further breath on words, Halite spat at the ground and stormed off towards the center of the fortress, leaving Clover and Platinum behind. The two mares were left panting as they fought to overcome the hunger of the void crystals, only able to watch the hooves of soldiers as they walked past and listen to the wails of the broken all around them. “Psst!” Clover’s ears found the energy to perk, and she shifted her head towards her right. A small unicorn was looking at her, her teal irises shining in the dim sunlight. Struggling to rise to her hooves, Clover took two steps before collapsing against the wall of her cage, the void crystals ringing lightly around her neck as they devoured her Arcana. Moaning slightly, she tried to focus on the unicorn in the cage next to her, but her vision remained blurry. “Nnng… Who… are you?” she managed to whimper, overcoming the difficulty of transforming her thoughts to words through her pounding head. The little unicorn stuck her hoof through the cell wall, precariously balancing a small diamond on it. Looking at Clover and then back at the gem, she shook her hoof lightly for the mare to take it. “Press it against your horn.” Clover fumbled with the precious gem in her hooves and almost dropped it before bringing it through the iron cage. Shaking, she managed to bring the gem to her horn, right where the void crystal ring was clasped. Sudden relief overwhelmed her body and cleared her mind, leaving the green mare gasping in exhilaration. Taking the diamond away from her face, Clover saw that its clear surface had been replaced with a dull and inky black. Setting the diamond aside, Clover rubbed her forehead, enjoying the ability to think clearly. “What was that?” she asked the small unicorn. “And who are you?” The unicorn, an aqua filly who looked like she was barely more than ten, smiled back at her. “That was just a diamond, but it was filled with a lot of mana. It took about a month to store that much mana on my own. It’s enough to satisfy the crystal’s hunger for a few days. I hope that helps!” Clover’s eyes flickered to the void ring on the aqua filly’s horn. “But you’ve got a ring of your own. How could you get any mana out? How did you get ahold of a diamond? And you still didn’t tell me what your name is!” “Hehehe, you ask a lot of questions,” the filly giggled. “My name’s Diamond Polish, though the others call me Diadem. Not really sure why though. What is a diadem anyways?” Clover opened her mouth to respond, but Diadem’s giggling stopped her. “Oh, don’t be silly, I know what a diadem is. A headband, a tiara, a crown. It’s nice to know the others think so highly of me, right?” Diadem’s lips were parted in a wide smile that seemed totally out of place with its surrounding context. “What’s your name?” “C-Clover,” she began, still trying to cope with Diadem’s enthusiasm. “Clover the Clever. I’m the apprentice to Star Swirl the Bearded, and Princess Platinum’s highest serving mare.” Diadem’s smile enlarged at the names Clover recited, even though such an action should very well have been impossible. “Ooooh, I always wanted to meet Princess Platinum! And tell me more about Star Swirl the Bearded! Does he really have a beard that’s soooooo big that he has to have a whole room to himself to keep it in?!” With her head clear, Clover was able to laugh at the little filly’s excitement. “No no, my little pony, if that was true he’d never be able to read his books. His beard would just get in the way.” She glanced around her, noticing that there were no guards to be seen. “Who told you that, anyway?” Diadem’s face darkened, and she brushed at a pebble that sat atop a pile of hay in her cell. “My older brother did. That was before they took him away. The mean shiny ponies. I haven’t seen him since. I don’t know how long ago it was. It’s hard to keep track of time in these cells.” Shaking her mane, the filly’s composure suddenly lit up. “At least he’s not in the cages anymore, and he said he’d come back to help us!” She clapped her hooves together, shifting from side to side as she bounced. Clover bit her lip and tried to put on her nicest smile. “I’m sure your brother won’t let you down, Diadem. I’m sure he’ll get you out of here some way or another.” A rough laugh sounded from two cages down, and Clover looked through Diadem’s cell to see the stallion who was making it. “That’s the spirit, Clover. Don’t give up hope, right?” Standing up, the stallion walked closer towards the light, allowing Clover to see his dark green coat and gray mane. The stallion was at least in his late forties, although the signs of work and hard labor covered his crippled and thin body from head to hoof. A rough set of rags covered his flanks, obscuring his cutie mark. “I would say that Diadem’s lucky to have met you, but I think you’re lucky to have met her. Just like how we all were. She’s been a bright light in some very dark days. And she’s our ticket out of here.” Clover raised an eyebrow, but Diadem’s bouncing figure spoke first. “Yes! That’s right that’s right that’s right! Greenleaf says I’m very gifted! Like, he’s never seen magic as powerful as mine! Mama always said I was going to be a very powerful and beautiful unicorn princess some day!” The old pony known as Greenleaf laughed weakly, a short wheezing sound that hinted towards old wounds to his ribcage. “Yes you will be, Diadem. Yes you will.” Turning to Clover, Greenleaf’s expression became much more serious. “You want to know how Diadem was able to fill that diamond full of mana with a void ring on her horn? Brute force. She simply has so much mana that her Arcana can overpower the crystals. Why, I’ve never seen anything like it before!” “That’s… incredible,” Clover murmured. “And so young…” “I couldn’t believe it at first when I saw it either,” Greenleaf agreed. “But the kid’s got the power, and she’s definitely not lacking the talent either. Us and the other prisoners are all set to break out when the opportunity arises. The problem is, we haven’t had that opportunity, and Diadem can’t take on Crystal barbarians. She’s too young, and I want to limit her exposure to the senseless killing us stallions do to each other.” “So what are you saying?” Clover asked. “We should just sit here and wait?” Greenleaf shook his head. “The time to act is soon. You and Princess Platinum are fresh here. Void poisoning has yet to take hold of your horns.” There he paused to tap his own horn, which was a solid black in stark contrast with his dark green coat. “We don’t have weapons, and most of us unicorns are too poisoned to fight with Arcana. But Diadem didn’t get her name for nothing. She’s powerful, but she’s also crafty. Really, she’s the crown jewel in the breakout plan. Without her, none of this would be possible.” Diadem nodded her head vigorously. “Yup yup yup! I came up with this really cool idea to get us out of here! Just you wait and see!” “Share it with Clover, why don’t you?” Greenleaf prompted. “I’m sure she and the Princess would like to know.” Clover glanced over her shoulder to where Platinum was passed out on the floor of her cage. “I’ll tell her about it when she wakes. Sound good?” “Of course!” Diadem chirped. “Now, I think it’ll go something like this…” ----- Amber Field was decidedly darker and more lifeless than Typhoon had last remembered it being. Snow fell in heavy sheets from the clouds, scattering throughout the town on merciless winds. It was only mid afternoon, but the thickness of the storm clouds blocked out so much sun that it very well might have been night. Not a pony was to be seen as Typhoon and Cyclone descended into the empty whiteness that was the town square. The street lamps had all been snuffed out from the winds, making navigation all but impossible. In response, Cyclone shook the ice off of his wings before setting them ablaze in a quick burst of Empatha. The light they produced illuminated the square, and Typhoon found herself gravitating towards the fire for warmth. “And here I thought you liked the cold,” Cyclone jested as he noticed Typhoon sticking close to his side. “I do,” the mare countered, “but not in weather like this. Cold I like, but there’s a difference between cool and freezing. Have you listened to your feathers lately? It’s at least forty below out here.” “The only thing my feathers are telling me is that they’re nice and warm.” As if to emphasize his point, a series of sparks and tongues of flame flared off of his wings before cooling back down to their normal size. Gesturing with his hoof, Cyclone pointed to the dilapidated storefront of a nearby building. “Here, this is what the informant told us to look for, right? Tear’s Wares?” Walking closer to the weathered sign, Typhoon pulled the piece of wood off of its rusty and frozen chains with a quick tug of her neck. Placing it on the ground, the Imperator lowered a wing and scraped the ice off of the sign. Sure enough, the faded ink underneath the ice identified the sign as belonging to Tear’s Wares in the earth pony alphabet. “Yes. We’re close. And over there is the old church.” Typhoon flicked her multicolored tail towards the burnt-out husk of an old building to their right. “Do you see where Half Mane’s Elixirs is?” Cyclone shook his head. “No. It’s probably back in one of these alleyways. Perhaps we should split up?” Typhoon considered the statement before nodding and flexing her wings. “Yes, that’d be a good idea. We can cover more ground that way. Plus, it’d be good to stretch my wings and keep the ice off of them.” “You would have that problem, wouldn’t you?” Cyclone accused. Galloping off through the snow, the stallion fluttered his blazing wings and took to the air, leaving a trail of fire behind him that the blizzard greedily ate up. The light followed him as he went, serving as a glowing beacon in the dark and lifeless city. At least it wouldn’t be too hard for Typhoon to find him again if she needed to. Taking a running start of her own, Typhoon managed to elevate herself over the rooftops of Amber Field’s market district and began to spin in lazy circles overhead. Every house had well over five feet of snow on their rooftops, and the thatch was bending precariously under its weight as a result. Several buildings had already collapsed from the storm, and the poor district had been all but buried with the blizzard. Further into the town was a series of blocks that stood black and barren under the snowy wastes, an unfortunate side effect of Cyclone’s ‘incident’ when he was chasing Jewel. For the pegasus who had once come to view Amber Field as her second home, it was saddening to see the state of dilapidation that had overcome the town. Even if the blizzard were to inexplicably pass, too much of Amber Field’s infrastructure had been destroyed for the town to ever recover. Touching down in an alleyway between several buildings, Typhoon vigorously shook the ice off of her wingblades and primaries. Several large rats scattered into the shadows as shards of ice landed all around them, their alarmed peeping growing quieter and dimmer as they fled. When the last of the noises disappeared, Typhoon began to walk up and down the alleys, searching boxes and checking locked doors for an entrance to Jewel’s supposed hideout. Half an hour of searching later, and Typhoon was beginning to wonder if her information was wrong. Every alley within the block that Brown Oats had described had been torn apart in her search for any kind of concealed entrance, and despite the hubris covering her armor and feathers, she had found nothing. She could only hope that Cyclone was having better luck. Noticing that the alley she was in had suddenly brightened, Typhoon turned around to see Cyclone come walking in from the street. His wings were still ablaze, but she noticed that he had the strap of his sword loosened. “Come on,” he ordered, gesturing with his head. “I think I found something.” As Cyclone walked away, Typhoon loosened the strap on her sword as well and followed him. They zigzagged out of the alleys and across the street towards a narrow passage between two stores. A wall of snow stood four feet high at the entrance to the street, and so the two pegasi fluttered over it and into the dark passage on the other side. A few steps in and rounding a corner, Cyclone pointed with his fiery wing towards an access door at the bottom of the building. Typhoon slid down the snow bank towards the door and lifted the lock up to inspect it. “You’re sure that this is it? For all we know it could just go to the storage of this building.” Not bothering to speak, Cyclone simply walked down next to Typhoon and tapped the side of the door frame with a hoof. Carved into the old wood was a simple icon of a cut gemstone. Typhoon felt the carving with a hoof and realized that it was much newer than the wood it had been placed in. Looking back at the lock, she could see that it bore a similar mark on its metal surface. “How’s about we pay Jewel’s gang a little visit, hm?” Cyclone asked as he placed his sword through the door at the hinges. The cumulostratus skysteel hissed as it began to siphon Cyclone’s Empatha, and with a burst of fire the metal hinges were melted off of the door frame. Turning to deliver a powerful kick to the old wood, Cyclone launched the door inwards where it clattered down a long staircase of stone and mold. The two Cirrans glanced at each other and nodded before they descended the staircase, Cyclone leading the way through the darkness with the fire he carried across his wings and Typhoon bringing up the rear. She drew her sword and kept her wings slightly parted towards her sides, ready to fight on a moment’s notice. The stone smelled of mildew and sewage, and its rough-hewn blocks were covered in slimy mold and algae. The hooves of the two pegasi echoed loudly as they walked down hallway after hallway, making an offbeat clopping rhythm that bounced across the stone. Their armor rattled with each step, and the slight groan of flexing wingblades was plainly audible in corridor after corridor. Realizing that there was no way for them to move silently in the dank hideout, the Cirrans quickened their descent into Jewel’s lair. “You’d think there would be more activity,” Typhoon whispered to Cyclone above the sounds of their hooves. “It’s unbelievably quiet.” Cyclone came across an intersection of hallways and paused to check his corners. “I agree. Jewel used to have this town in his grip, and an operation like that would need a pretty sizeable workforce. Unfortunately, nopony’s here. You think they caught wind of us and moved out?” Typhoon shook her head. “If they knew we were coming, they would have ambushed us as soon as we took two steps into their hideout. I think either we haven’t run into their ambush, or they relocated elsewhere.” “Humph. I’d say they went elsewhere. Amber Field’s a dump now. There’s nothing left of value in it. Money’s the only thing criminals want, and there’s none of it here. Problem is, where exactly did they go then?” Rolling her shoulders, Typhoon chose a hallway and began to walk down it, Cyclone at her side. “Don’t know. Maybe we’ll find something they left behind. Jewel may be smart, but Mobius knows his subordinates aren’t. They’d have made mistakes somewhere.” They continued on in silence for a while longer, rounding corners and taking hallways as they approached them. Eventually, the two pegasi found their way into a spacious room with windows placed up high along the edge of the ceiling. The glass had been shattered and dripping mounds of snow were piled underneath. The air was incredibly damp and humid, and had been for a long time as evidenced by the moldy wooden tables scattered throughout the room. Walking along the perimeter of the room, Cyclone began to light torches with his wings while Typhoon began to go from table to table and try to see if anything was left. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of mildew, and twice her hooves crashed straight through rotting wood as she leaned across tables. “You cover this room, I’ll search some of the neighboring chambers,” Cyclone suggested, to which Typhoon grunted her approval. The clopping of his hooves dulled as he walked out of the room to be replaced by the grinding of wood against stone as he began to rip the nearest room apart. Typhoon rolled her eyes and went back to delicately examining the contents of the circular room. Cyclone’s search tactics were definitely as straightforward as his interrogation tactics. Growing frustrated with the lack of evidence around the tables, Typhoon abandoned such an obvious search and began to snoop around the edges of the room. Most of the walls either ended in snow or grime, although several had rubble and trash along their bases. Not wishing to run her hooves through muck and filth, Typhoon instead pulled out her sword and began to sift through some of the piles of refuse with its tip. Much of the refuse was chunks of wood or rotting rinds of food, but soon enough Typhoon managed to dig up a small, bound notebook from underneath a pile of snow and gravel. Gingerly taking the soggy paper between her hooves, the mare laid the book on the table and began to nose through its contents. Most of the text was indecipherable or decayed from the moisture, but several pages towards the center of the book were still somewhat preserved. Setting her sword aside, Typhoon found a chair that was relatively clean and sturdy and sat down to study the book. Page after page of text in an unknown alphabet greeted her, although the lines were so crisp and uniform that she had no doubt that it could only have been written by a unicorn. The text wasn’t in the earth pony or unicorn alphabet however, leaving her with no means to determine its meaning. Instead, she gently pushed several pages aside until she came across a few pictures. The pictures were little more than crude sketches, but several of them had bulleted notes to the sides, as well as arrows to show movements. They looked like gate mechanisms and floor plans, though for what, Typhoon couldn’t tell. There was a large page of what she supposed was a map, but half the paper had been torn out and the other half was covered in mildew and mud. Only a few notes in that strange alphabet managed to survive near the top. “Cyclone!” Typhoon called out. “Cyclone, I think I found something!” The quick staccato of hooves striking stone gave way to Cyclone’s appearance in the doorframe. “Really? What did you find? All I could find was a few rusty blades and some scraps of leather.” Placing her hoof on the book, Typhoon beckoned to Cyclone with her wing. “This is what I found. It looks like a journal of some sort—Jewel’s maybe. Problem is, I can’t read the language. Any ideas?” Cyclone trotted over to Typhoon and spun the book so that the text faced him. After furrowing his brow for several thoughtful seconds, he shook his head. “It’s definitely something that I’ve never seen before. Regardless, it sure as hell seems important.” “Maybe somepony else can read it. Somepony like Star Swirl, perhaps?” Cyclone’s face drew into a scowl, but he discarded it with a shake of his head. “Yes. Perhaps. I’d rather not share this kind of information with another horn. Who knows what they’re all planning.” Typhoon raised an eyebrow. “Star Swirl is one of father’s closest friends. I’m sure he would be willing to help us.” “You’d do well to learn that just because somepony is somepony else’s ‘friend’ doesn’t mean that you can trust them,” Cyclone scolded. “Enemies often come from the most surprising of places. Still,” he sighed, beginning to walk away. “You’re probably right, though. Star Swirl may be a horn, but he’s been reliable before. Let’s just hope that his integrity still holds true today.” Shaking her head, Typhoon picked up the book and began to follow Cyclone out of the hideout. Whatever his disgust for the unicorns was, he was going to have to get over it sooner or later. Cirra may have survived before on its own, but the past twenty years had shown that it did better when working with the other races. As she left the abandoned hideout and began the long flight back to Cloudsdale, Typhoon began to wonder just how long exactly any alliance could last under pressure. It would be a question that she knew would haunt her dreams at night as the world only continued to get colder and colder. ----- The fire crackled in the chilly night, struggling all it could to repel the cold air and warm the ponies sitting around it. At one point in the night there had been near a dozen; now there were only two. Their unarmored coats and the strange hats they wore atop their heads seemed out of place in the middle of a military camp. Each held a wooden mug of cider that they drank from sparingly, savoring the warm burn of alcohol as it slithered down their throats. One was on his fifth tankard, while the other had yet to work his way through his first. They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of fire and the gentle rush of the wind around the peaks of tents. Tossing his emptied tankard to the side, Chancellor Puddinghead reclined on the log he sat on and kicked his legs out from underneath himself. He and Smart Cookie watched the wavering orange sheets of flame, extenuating their tense silence for several more minutes before they finally found reason to break it. “Have you packed all my things, Smart Cookie?” Puddinghead’s voice droned from underneath five rounds of cider. “We should probably be ready to get a move on by daybreak.” “Yes, Chancellor, all your things are ready,” Smart Cookie murmured, not taking his eyes off of the fire. “You’ll be set to move on by day.” Puddinghead’s ears perked as he tried to pick up on the meaning behind the Representative’s tone, but he dismissed it with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “That’s good. The sooner we get away from these shiny barbarians the better.” Smart Cookie said nothing. “I mean, sure, they saved our lives and all that, but they’re freaking me out. What do they eat to get all crystal-y like that anyways? Diamonds?” Smart Cookie still said nothing. Puddinghead glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure it’s diamonds. But still. They’re really weird. Hopefully they and the other barbarians at the fortress wear each other out. That means fewer raids come next spring!” Looking for another tankard of cider but not finding one, Puddinghead slumped in his seat before noticing Smart Cookie’s still half-full mug. He stared at it for several seconds until the Representative finally sighed and gave it to him. Snatching the mug away, Puddinghead tilted his face upwards and downed more than half the remaining contents in one go. Setting it back down on the log, he rubbed his hooves together and extended them towards the fire. “What was I talking about? Oh yeah, hoping that the shinies all kill each other off. The world would be a better place if they did. Especially if they got that big flying unicorn one as well.” Grinding his teeth together, Smart Cookie stood up and walked away from the fire. Puddinghead looked after him, confused, and scrambled up to follow him. “Hey, Smart Cookie! Where are you going?!” “Away from you!” Smart Cookie hissed, spinning about to confront the Chancellor. “I can’t stand to listen to you anymore! All you’ve done since Jade and her army generously saved our lives and took us in is bash them and their kin and everything they stand for!” Puddinghead tilted his head to the side, drunken confusedness dominating his face. “So?” “So what!” Smart Cookie shouted, stomping his hoof for additional effect. “Has it ever occurred to you that the Crystal Ponies are ponies too? Ponies who just want to have a home, and have to fight if they even want a chance at ever finding peace? That they’re more than just the stereotypes we label them because of the actions of a few powerful warlords?!” “Not really.” “Aaaaughh!!” Smart Cookie slapped a hoof against his brow. “Hopeless! These ponies are in the same situation that we’re in, but they’re much more desperate! Jade’s only got this one chance to try and bring the Crystal Ponies together as a proud race. If she fails, then the attacks will only continue to get worse.” Puddinghead stared at Smart Cookie until realization dawned on him. “Ooooh, I see how it is. Smart Cookie thinks he’s got a fillyfriend. Ooooh.” “Shut up! Just shut up!” the Representative shouted. “At least she cares more about my well being than you do, Chancellor! And she saved my life, so I’m going to return it to her and help her out any way I can!” The Chancellor squinted at Smart Cookie and his voice turned grave. “You’ll be killed, Smart Cookie.” Drawing a shaky breath, Smart Cookie turned away from Puddinghead. “Maybe. But at least it’ll be for something more worthwhile than following you through the wilderness and having to listen to you all the time.” Glancing at his mug, Puddinghead downed the rest of it and tossed the tankard away. “So be it, Representative. So be it. But remember that we came out here together to find a new land for the earth ponies. You may have forgotten it with your infatuation with a mare way out of your league, but I haven’t. I haven’t, Smart Cookie. Remember that.” Turning around, Puddinghead trotted back to the campfire and shouldered his belongings. Without another look over his shoulder, the Chancellor stumbled away between two tents and disappeared into the night. Smart Cookie released a distraught breath and turned back to the campfire. “Puddinghead?” There was no response. Sighing, the Representative sat on his haunches next to a tent and placed his head between his hooves. He was alone now, finally getting what he wanted after complaining about Puddinghead for so long. He finally had gotten rid of the annoying chancellor. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that hung with him as he tried to rock himself to sleep. > Chapter 10: Onyx Ridge > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 10: Onyx Ridge The steel stretched on into the night for miles and miles, unending lines of silver across a gray countryside. No trains had come along the tracks since the last one arrived in Saraneighvo, and it was unlikely that any were going to any time soon. The lines were deathly still and silent, and a thin coating of ice was beginning to creep over their disused surfaces. Rainbow Dash groaned as she chomped into the fabric bit she had made for herself to stop her teeth from chattering. Hers and Twilight’s progress along the lines towards Stalliongrad had been painfully slow and incredibly cold. They had been walking for a full day and had only covered little more than ten miles. Now, their journey was taking them into the second night since their escape from Saraneighvo, and so far they had seen little more than snow and boulders against a turbulent gray sky. Her sides shaking, Rainbow fluttered her wings underneath the heavy winter jacket she wore to try and reflect more of her body heat against her coat. Even through the coarse fabric, her feathers were screaming that it was thirty below, and the temperature would only continue to drop as night pressed its deadly kiss across the land. The water in her canteen had frozen over long ago and her food was beginning to run out. If they didn’t find civilization soon, they were going to freeze to death in the unrelenting Stalliongradi cold. There was a rustling in a grove of dead bushes to her left, and Rainbow spun in place just in time to see a purple tail disappear into the undergrowth. Grumbling, the prismatic mare marched over to the brambles and kicked them apart, pulling Twilight out by the tail. The unicorn struggled before Rainbow managed to hurl her over her shoulder with a final tug. Scrambling to her hooves, the pegasus glowered at her companion. “Will you give it a rest, Twilight?! You’ve been doing this all day! What is it this time?” Sneezing, Twilight stood up and shook the snow off of her coat. “Didn’t you see the pegasi, Rainbow?” Raising a hoof to the sky, she pointed a wedge of pegasi soaring high above the earth in the direction of Saraneighvo. “They could be more Black Cloaks looking for us! I’m just being cautious!” Rainbow Dash smacked her hoof against her face with such force that Twilight wondered whether or not she broke her nose. “For the love of Celestia, Twilight, calm down! I’m pretty sure the only Black Cloaks trying to kill us were those ones back in Saraneighvo, because they seemed pretty crazy to me. Besides, being discovered and taken someplace warm and full of food would be pretty preferable to wandering in this frozen wasteland. Tartarus, I’d even be happy if Discord himself came and teleported us out of here!” “Well, excuse me for being more than a little worried!” Twilight exclaimed. “Do you know how much trouble we’d be in if we were caught? Then I’d have to explain the whole thing to Princess Celestia!” Clutching her chest to forestall an imminent panic attack, she began to mime one of her letters. “‘Dear Princess Celestia, today I learned that not all guards are really nice like my brother. Sometimes they may give you free drinks, but other times they'll follow you to an inn and burn the whole thing down because they think you’re a rebel insurgent. If you would be so kind as to have Spike send me a copy of A Beginner's Guide to Running from Stalliongradi Authority, I'd very much appreciate it. Not that I'm running from the Black Cloaks or anything, I just need it for that research project I'm working on. Your faithful student who most definitely still does not have a criminal record, Twilight Sparkle.’” Rainbow snorted and shook her head. “I’m sure the Princess is more concerned about you getting home in one piece than which side of the law you’ve been stepping on,” she offered. “Besides, you know that you did nothing wrong, so I’m sure that’s all that matters. We just need to get out of this Tartarus-hole and someplace warm. Trust me, you might think it’s cold, but it sucks to be a pegasus right now. Especially one that can’t fly,” she added as her frozen wings rippled underneath her winter coat. Twilight giggled softly and shook her head. “Alright, Rainbow, let’s see what we can do about shelter. Hopefully there should be an alcove or something we can hide for the night.” They walked on for another mile, but as the temperature dropped and their breathing became more ragged, they still had not seen anything other than flat ice. They were both thirsty and hungry, yet there was nothing to sustain them as they struggled to climb the shallow incline of a small hill. Their energy was just about spent, and if they squinted they could still see the fires of distant Saraneighvo behind them. Rainbow Dash felt her hoof slip out from under her on a particularly firm patch of ice, and she collapsed face first on the edge of the hill crest, her legs splayed out uselessly on either side. Her breathing had become little more than a panting wheeze and her whole body violently shook. The cold had sapped the last of her strength, and she couldn’t even make a noise from where she lay. Luckily, Twilight had heard her companion collapse into the snow and turned around from the hill crest to trot back down to her. “Rainbow! Rainbow Dash, are you alright?” Searching through her saddlebags, she looked for anything to wrap the pegasus in and help ward off hypothermia, but she found nothing. Undeterred, she placed the bags on the ground and stripped off her outermost coat. Clenching the fabric between her teeth, she bent over and curled it around Rainbow’s body and nudged her friend to her hooves. “T-thanks, T-T-T-Twi,” she chittered through the numbness in her face. “D-damn hollow p-p-p-pegasus bones. Hold n-no heat whatsoever.” Shivering herself, Twilight let Rainbow lean against her shoulder as they walked up the hill. “Don’t worry, Rainbow, everything will be alright. See?” The two wanderers crested the hill to find a rough wooden lodge built off towards the side of the rail lines. There were gaps in the boards and the door was slightly ajar, but the presence of a chimney hinted towards the possibility of building a fire within, away from the blistering winds and numbing cold. It was a marvelous prospect, and Twilight couldn’t get to the door fast enough. Applying a little bit of magical force, she was able to break open the rusted lock and usher Rainbow Dash inside. The pegasus immediately stumbled against one of the walls but managed to guide her hooves towards a simple chair placed in front of a brick fireplace. Twilight followed, shutting the door behind her and lowering a bar across the frame to keep it closed. Trying to shake off the cold and the numbness that clung to her hooves, Twilight found her way into what she supposed was the kitchen. She almost squealed with joy to accompany the celebratory growls her empty stomach provided her as she opened the pantry. Several cans of food greeted her as she peered within, and she only had to brush a few cobwebs off of the nearest to take it out. They were still sealed, and each one was stamped with an expiration date of 1450 A.S. A little past its expiry, but she wasn’t about to complain. Food was food, and canned food was fairly safe, even given its age. Returning victoriously with several cans of food like a Spurtan from battle, Twilight strode into the kitchen and deposited her spoils of war across the table. The noise was enough to draw Rainbow Dash’s attention away from the fireplace, where she had her wingtip nestled amongst a pile of wood. Without further delay, the pegasus hopped to her hooves and took shivering steps towards the table where Twilight was working on getting the cans open. “You found f-food?” the pegasus stumbled over her chattering teeth. Twilight nodded and passed Rainbow an opened can, which the pegasus immediately dove her muzzle into. “It was in a pantry in the back. Obviously at some point this little shack was home to somepony, but whoever it was is long gone now.” She glanced over to the pile of wood Rainbow had been messing with. “Were you trying to get that fire started with your wing? Like Imperator Cyclone?” “Disthn wuhrk,” the pegasus muttered around a mouthful of canned beets. Swallowing, she pounded her chest with a hoof and licked her lips. “That’s good. Yeah, anyway, it didn’t work. Don’t know why though.” “Maybe you just weren’t doing it right,” Twilight suggested as her horn came to life. She grasped hold of a stray rock with her Arcana and chipped it against the brick of the fireplace, producing the spark that she needed to get the tinder to light. Within a few minutes she had a roaring fire that dispelled the stagnant cold air that had filled the shack and began to circulate warmth throughout the desolate structure. After stuffing their stomachs with reasonably decent fare, the two ponies each found a seat in front of the fire and sat there, absorbing its warmth. Luck had kept them alive another day, and there was a faint glimmer of a chance that they could make it to Stalliongrad by the end of the week. They sat in silence for the better part of the hour, simply enjoying the warmth of the fire. Soon enough, however, Twilight found boredom beginning to creep over her, and she instinctively reached for Hurricane’s journal. Flipping open to her bookmark, the mare slouched into a more comfortable position and propped the book open with her forelegs. “So, Rainbow, ready to get back to reading?” A loud and protracted snore reached her ears, and Twilight turned to find Rainbow passed out in her chair. Her mouth hung open as she snored, blowing a strand of orange hair back and forth across her face. Her wings twitched slightly in her sleep, undoubtedly the result of another of her Wonderbolts dreams. Smiling, Twilight draped a blanket across Rainbow with her magic and turned back to the fire. She considered taking after her friend’s example and bunkering down for the night, but found that she couldn’t. The open book stared up at her expectantly. She sighed and held the book in front of her with her hooves. It was late at night, but here was a good story she hadn’t finished yet waiting for her. Habits from late nights of study fought their way to the front of her brain, and before she knew it, she was already two paragraphs into the next section of Hurricane’s work. ----- The sun rose on a world already bustling with activity. Ponies had been up for the past two hours, making final preparations and checking their gear. The Unionist camp was abuzz with the muted thrill of adrenaline and anticipation, and not a soldier found the restraint to sit still, even if no words were shared between compatriots. A hallowed silence filled the still air, and not a soul dared to break it. The siege crews had left an hour before to prepare their engines, and the occasional thwack of tightening cords or the dull boom of massive wooden doors being loaded shut provided the only noise across the hushed hillside. Nopony paid it any mind, and friends whispered quietly among themselves of family and loved ones, wives and children. Pictures were shared, drinks were had and prayers were made in little knots across the camp. Smart Cookie found himself on the outside of all the soldierly dynamics, struggling to keep his helmet balanced on his head. He had gone to see Jade earlier that day and tell her that he was staying to help fight. The mare was incredulous at first and tried to dissuade him, but the Representative remained resolute, if a bit frightened. Eventually, Jade released an exasperated breath and waved to her generals to find him armor and a weapon to use. Then she disappeared back into her tent, presumably to make peace with her gods and to find the strength to lead thousands of ponies to their deaths. It took all of two minutes for the generals’ aides to find Smart Cookie equipment from a pile of discarded gear at the edge of camp. The first thing the Representative did upon receiving his gear was try to wash the bloodstains off of the iron. The aides informed him that the sword and armor had belonged to a soldier felled in battle by an arrow before he even had the chance to fight. The thought was very discomforting, and had left the orange stallion fidgeting outside of the muster point all morning. There was a sharp whistle from the end of the clearing, and Smart Cookie along with the rest of the soldiers snapped their necks towards its source. The early dawn light just barely made the silhouette of a tall pony walking out of her tent visible. Seeing that she had her soldiers’ attention, Commander Jade took slow and deliberate steps towards a raised podium at the edge of the clearing. Nopony dared to speak or move until she surmounted the wooden steps and called out to them. “Come!” her voice rang out, loud and clear against the stillness of the morning. “Come closer, and let us pray together.” Smart Cookie found himself shuffling closer towards the tall mare, his armor clanking unnaturally around his body as he did so. A swarm of soldiers engulfed him, propelling him towards the front of the crowd. Even as thousands of ponies tried to gather in one small clearing, a small knot of open space around Smart Cookie left him able to move freely. Instead of comforting, however, it served only as a reminder of how much of an outsider he was to the Crystal Ponies. Jade regarded her soldiers silently as she waited for them to assemble. Hers was an impressive figure, clad in beautiful and striking iron armor accentuated by highlights of cyan paint. The metal extended across her chest and down her back and sides, encasing her soft coat in an iron shell. A helmet of iron, diamond, and cyan adorned her head, with a hole cut out of the metal for her horn to protrude from. Even that appendage was protected by a sharp blade that ran the length of the horn. Her crystalline wings shuffled at her sides, rattling the rigid blades that ran along their crests. Unlike Cirran wingblades, however, these were straight pieces of iron hinged at several points to provide some movement. Smart Cookie doubted that, for as impressive as they looked, they were flexible or comfortable to fly in. As the muttering came to a standstill and the crowd became silent, Jade coughed quietly to herself and took two steps forward. Now was the pivotal moment, and her soldiers seemed to lean with her as she placed one hoof on the edge of the podium and gently rocked it back and forth. Her eyes darted across the ground as she muttered a few lines to herself, but when she looked up again, they were determined with an impressive fire. “The snow glistens on the ground with the brilliance of the sun, reflected for all to see no matter where they look. Some may find this annoying. The glare can be straining to the eyes and painful to look at. Why should a pony pay such inconveniences any mind?” Her voice started out wavering, but began to harden with layers of steel and resolve that Smart Cookie found impressive as she turned out more words. “In a way, we are like the snow. Some may find our struggle for unity and peace pointless or silly, saying behind our backs that our efforts might better be spent elsewhere. They shun us, not understanding, nor wanting to understand what it is that we go through for them. “In a way, we ourselves regard our fight like the glare of the snow. The hardships we have suffered through, the battles we have fought, the friends we have lost, all make us question whether or not this cause is actually worth it. Believe me when I say that I, more than most, have questioned whether or not this cause is worth it.” She paused to gauge her listeners’ reactions and, finding them pleasing, swallowed and carried on. “The weight of thousands of deaths presses on my mind daily. It is not something that is easily pacified. Believe me when I say that I worry for each and every one of you, each and every day. I know that today, just like any other day, I may be sending you to your deaths. You know this too, but for some reason or other have decided to stick with me. I cannot thank you enough for that. “We are like the snow, but I refuse to take that in a negative way. We, like the snow, are bright and shining; we are a brilliant example of hope in its darkest hours, of a resolve and tenacity that dares stand up to the shadows of our past and scream unto the heavens, ‘No more! No more will I take your cruelty! You may have tarnished my name, driven salt into my fields, killed my family and raped my countryside, but no more! You, warlords, who have ruined the name of the Crystal Ponies for so many years! You, cowards who would hide behind force and fear to better yourselves at the expense of others! I call out to you and damn you, not alone, but with the voices of thousands and thousands of ponies who will take it no more! Separate we were weak, but together and united, we are stronger than any of your threats, more powerful than your finest steel, mightier than your tallest walls! Today, the hammer of justice swings down upon you, and today, you will feel its blows! Abandon your fiendish ways, barbarians, and you might yet find some mercy in our hearts!’ “And are we merciful ponies?” Jade nodded her head emphatically, drawing several soldiers around Smart Cookie to do the same with her enthusiasm. “Yes we are! Does that make us weak like the warlords proclaim? No it doesn’t! It simply means that we are more pony than they are. Emotions make us strong, not weak. Emotions make us brave, not cowardly. Emotions make us more than we are, and let us never forget that. “And so we are like the snow, letting the world see our brilliance, no matter where they may look. Some may find us crude, others may see us as hopeless, but I see what they cannot. I see the beauty in the snow, I see the art in the land, I see thousands of wondrous ponies who have put aside their lives to become soldiers and fight for something greater than themselves. Now, together, who is willing to show Halite that we are more than a nuisance to his eyes?!” The cheering of tens of thousands of Crystal Ponies filled the camp and nearly split Smart Cookie’s head in two. Despite the noise, however, the earth pony felt alive and energetic, ready to throw himself to the blade if need be. Jade’s words were powerful, and they were strongly felt by all present. It was a beautiful sight, and for the first time in a long time, Smart Cookie felt like he was finally part of something bigger than himself. Jade smiled, tilting her head downwards and nodding. “I knew you would be up to the task! Let us show Warlord Halite what we’re made of! Find your company leaders and assemble for the march! We move out in little more than an hour.” As one, the cheering soldiers split off into enthusiastic packs, following the shouts and commands of their superiors. In a few short minutes, the entire clearing had been emptied, and the brilliant sheen of thousands of crystalline coats moving into the fields around the camp danced across the rough canvas tents. Smart Cookie started in a few directions before ultimately stopping in the middle of the clearing, unsure of whom to follow or which way to go. “Representative?” asked a soft voice from behind him. Clanking in his foreign armor, the earth pony turned and almost plowed headfirst into Jade’s armored chest. Leaning back slightly, Smart Cookie craned his neck upwards to find the alicorn’s eyes. “Great speech,” he began, slightly lifting off his hooves as he spoke. “I thought I was a good speechwriter, but that was impressive. How long did it take you to come up with that?” Jade laughed and shook her head, although the actions were surprisingly lacking in merriment. “You thought that was planned?” Smart Cookie lilted as he searched for words. “But… surely you…” “Hush,” the mare ordered, which Smart Cookie instantly obeyed. “I’ve learned that the best speeches are ones driven by emotion, not thought. Sure, it takes a level of intellect to order your words, but all of that you just heard? I came up with that on the spot.” “So did you mean all those things that you said?” “Of course I did,” Jade answered, beginning to walk towards the southeastern corner of the camp. “I don’t say things that I don’t mean. And,” she said, stopping abruptly to face the Representative, “I mean what I said earlier. You don’t have to do this. This isn’t your fight, and I don’t want to see you hurt. You can still back out now if you want.” Smart Cookie swallowed hard before looking Jade in the eyes. “I’m certain, Jade. Believe me, I asked myself if I really wanted to do this hundreds of times throughout the night. Each and every time, no matter my reasoning, I chose to stay.” Walking farther away, Smart Cookie stood at the top of a small incline where he had a clear view of Onyx Ridge. The wind blew across his shoulders, and instinctively he reached to steady his hat, only to find an iron helmet in its place. He shifted again at the unfamiliar weight of the armor and glanced at the sword he had never touched hanging against his flank. He questioned whether he had the resolve to use it. The reluctant answer was no different from before. “Ever since this damnable blizzard started, I’ve longed for the simpler days,” Smart Cookie began. “In those days, the only thing I had to worry about was Puddinghead dragging me to yet another party. I didn’t have to deal with intertribal hatreds and tensions. I didn’t have to deal with famine and trying to hold the nation together. Things were just so much easier.” He shook his head, his shoulders sagging visibly by his sides. “In a way I envy you, I guess. Last night, I saw what it meant to have a cause you believe in. I saw Crystal Ponies coming together around the campfire, not as fellow soldiers, but as brothers in arms. They believed in your cause, and it became their cause in effect. Then I thought on what I supposed was to be my own cause. To find a land where we can leave everything behind, including this blizzard? Does such a land even really exist?” He shrugged his shoulders and turned to face Jade. “Do we even deserve it? It may sound silly, but I’m almost positive that this blizzard is the result of hatred among all our races. Do we really deserve a second chance to redeem ourselves after what we’ve done to each other?” Jade blinked, but remained silent. Smart Cookie’s hoof traced a small pattern in the muddy snow covering the trodden ground. “I don’t know the answer to that, but ultimately, it’s not my place to decide. But seeing you all, and the struggles you’ve gone through to unite your race, and the struggle you have yet to finish to do so… perhaps I’m staying because I want to learn how to be a better pony. I always prided myself on being neat, punctual, succinct, and popular with the Low Valleys, but that doesn’t make me a good pony. That just makes me a good politician. But I see better hearts than mine in the lowest of soldiers in this camp, and it makes me question myself. Am I really a good pony?” He sighed, looking over his shoulder towards the distant west. “I don’t know. By the end of today, however, I do know that I’ll find the answer. I’ve been living in the shadow of my career for too long. It’s time to see what I actually look like under the sun.” As the orange earth pony walked away, Jade only blinked and looked on. There was nothing more Smart Cookie could add, and anything she could say would only detract from the sacred moment the two had shared. ----- Mica yawned and scratched at the coarse hairs that decorated his chin. He hated patrol, hated when Feldspar got away with ‘managing the tables’ instead of going on patrol, and especially hated when his friend ‘forgot’ to get him a spot at the tables as well instead of letting him get stuck with watching the prisoners for the umpteenth time this week. One of these days, Feldspar would be the one stuck watching a bunch of lousy bags of skin and lice rot in their cages instead of him. Speaking of the worthless piles of flesh, one of them groaned in its cage. The offending noise was quickly silenced with the sharp clash of a hoof against the iron bars and a threatening growl, and Mica returned to walking up and down the length of the pens. Damn slaves. They couldn’t let him have some time to rage about his assignments in peace and quiet, could they? A few heavy flakes of snow landed on Mica’s nose, and the warrior scattered them with an angry sneeze and a curse. He grabbed his war axe and raised it to the sky, as if damning the snow gods for their endless storm, before sliding the axe back across his flank with a smooth and practiced motion. The iron head of the weapon clinked against his crystal flesh, and he fussed with the handle for a few more seconds to arrange it in a way that wouldn’t bring it into contact with his body. At least the fleshies didn’t have to worry about their hides clinking and clanking with anything they carried. Wait. Pause. Reverse. Rewind. Mica quickly backtrotted several cages along his route to one of the centermost. A rather familiar figure was lying in the shadows, breathing heavily under his armor. His breathing was ragged and labored, and the interior of the cage was covered in blood. A discarded scabbard lay by his side, and it was all too obvious that it was missing its blade. “Feldspar!” Mica shouted, rushing to the cage and peering in. There was his friend alright, seemingly unconscious against the back of the iron bars. It must have been that damn green mare who did this. He knew she was trouble from the moment he laid eyes on her, and this was her cage after all. “Hang on, buddy, I’m going to get you out of there!” he exclaimed, reaching for the latch on the door. Surprisingly, the padlock was still in place, and there was no way that the unicorn would have been able to pick it with her freaky magic with the Dark Stone on her horn. The only explanation was that Feldspar had been lured too close, and the prisoner had somehow managed to grab his key, subdue him, and lock him in her own cage. Several powerful bucks to the cage lock shattered the frigid metal in two, and Mica kicked the door aside and ran in. Feldspar was struggling to sit up against the back of the cage, apparently having regained consciousness at the sound of Mica trying to bash the door in. He grunted briefly, then rubbed at his head. “Feldspar, you idiot,” Mica cursed, taking a look around the cage. “How in the name of Tartarus did you manage to get yourself trapped in here?” Feldspar grunted and tried stumbling to his hooves, only to collapse against the back wall again. Mica noticed that he even had the mare’s shackle around his neck. “M-mare was… awfully tricky,” he muttered. Suddenly he gritted his teeth and stuck a hoof towards his head, where the edge of his helmet was covered in blood. “Think she done somethin’ to my head. Think ya could take the helmet off for me?” Mica rolled his eyes and trotted closer to his friend. “Only this once, you lousy oaf, but you got to learn better to… to take… care… of…” his words trailed off as he felt his hoof slide completely through Feldspar’s helmet and bump against some invisible object protruding from his skull. With a powerful kick, Feldspar sent Mica reeling into the side of the cage. Grunting from the impact, Mica moved to stand just as he saw a void ring land between his hooves. Frightened, he glanced up to where the stallion was advancing. Instead of seeing Feldspar, however, the stallion’s coat and colors seemed to wash away in a stream of mist and cloud, dissipating into the air around him. The pony that occupied the spot where the Crystal warrior was just moments prior was instead a light green unicorn mare, her horn already glowing with an aura of Arcana. “How?! But—!” Mica’s words were sharply cut off by a powerful sleep spell that struck him square in the face. The Crystal warrior twitched once or twice before his limbs went limp and a quiet snore resounded from his throat. Lifting the stallion with her magic, Clover levitated the incapacitated barbarian to the back of her cage, where she hoped the shadows would hide him for at least a little longer. “Yeah! Woohoo! That was AWESOME!!” Diadem cheered from the adjacent cage, already hopping up and down on her stubby legs. The faint glow from her horn faded, and the illusions of the blood and scabbard in Clover’s cage reverted to water and a stick. “Hush, darling,” Platinum whispered from Clover’s other side. “We don’t want to let any of the shiny ponies know about what just happened. Can you be quiet for me?” Diadem placed her hooves to her mouth and nodded her head vigorously. Smiling, Clover turned to the shackle around her neck and blasted the iron hinge holding the void crystals together with a burst of magic. The metal glowed red hot and melted, causing the shackle to fall into two pieces on the ground in front of her. Clover then trotted out of her cage and placed her freed horn against the lock on Platinum’s cage. A singular pulse of magic was all it took to shatter the lock and allow the Princess’ door to swing wide open. Platinum trotted towards the front of her cage and waited while Clover broke apart her shackle, trying to shake the dirt and grime out of her coat in the meantime. She readied a quick cleaning spell, but the void ring on her horn reminded her of its presence, and she collapsed, gritting her teeth in pain. “Ungh… Clover, dear, do you think you could get this cursed thing off of my horn?” Clover shook her head and moved to help the Princess up. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I can’t. I only got mine off because that warrior accidentally pulled it off. If I touch yours, it will cripple me again. We have to find tongs or something to get it off.” Checking both ways to see that the prison block was still empty of soldiers, Clover trotted towards Greenleaf’s cage with Platinum close behind. Greenleaf looked up at Clover and smiled. “Ha! I knew that would work. Good thing these barbarians aren’t half as smart as they are strong. If our luck holds up, getting out of here should be a breeze.” Clover readied a spell to break Greenleaf’s lock, but he stopped her with a wave of his hoof. “Not now. We’re going to have to fight at some point if we’re going to get out of here. It’s hard to hide a hundred tired and worn out prisoners in the shadows. No, we’ll need weapons first and foremost.” “So what do you want us to do?” Clover asked, turning to glance at Platinum. “I don’t even know where the armory is.” Greenleaf pointed towards Clover’s cage, where the sleeping form of the Crystal warrior lay still. “Take his sword, first of all, and don’t be afraid to wield it with your Arcana. Trust me, the dexterity really helps. Then, make your way deeper into the fort. The armory should be located next to the castle. Get about, say, a dozen swords or spears and bring them back here. That’s really all we’ll need; we don’t have many others in fighting shape.” Clover gulped and looked towards the terrifying black castle that stuck out of the ground like a shard of onyx. “Right. We’ll try to be back soon, but I don’t know how many guards we’ll run into. Platinum and I may have to take it slow at some points.” Greenleaf nodded in understanding. “Right, right. Don’t let yourselves get caught. They won’t be as tolerant of you now as they were when you were in your cages.” After that particularly reassuring statement, Clover and Platinum turned to leave. They were just about to round a corner into the shadows when they heard Diadem call out in her tiny voice behind them: “Stay safe, please! I know you can do it!” Then they twisted into an alleyway, and the cages were left behind them in the dim early morning glow. ----- The sun had risen to about halfway to its zenith, shedding faint gray light through the thick clouds that covered the sky. Vultures and crows called out to each other, filling the air with their damnable cawing and screeching. They had seen the movement of the siege engines, and to them it meant only one thing; lunch was about to be served. Smart Cookie felt the ground shake underneath him with every step as tens of thousands of hooves stomped the same rhythm into the dirt at once. He was marching alongside Jade, as the Princess—no, Commander—had ordered that if he was going to fight for the Union, she wanted him somewhere close by. As such, the estranged earth pony found himself in the presence of the finest soldiers in Jade’s army, the generals who had served with her father since the beginning of his crusade. The army engulfed the top of a hill in its march on Onyx Ridge, and from his vantage point Smart Cookie could see ponies begin to scramble about on its walls and several signal flags being changed from the tallest watchtowers. They were only half a mile away at this point, as the morning fog had masked much of their approach, but with the coming of daylight that cover had abandoned them, leaving the army out in the open to Onyx Ridge’s catapults and siege weapons. But instead of ripping the Unionists to shreds as they marched, the massive weapons along the walls remained entirely silent. It was an eerie feeling to know that he was being watched and at any moment could be killed, but not be able to know when exactly that moment would come. “Why aren’t they firing?” he shouted over his shoulder and the thunderous stomping of the army to Jade. The mare raised an eyebrow and lowered her neck to bring her ear closer to Smart Cookie, and the earth pony shouted his question again. “Halite is an arrogant bastard!” Jade yelled back at him. “He’s going to want to talk about his might before he actually shows it to try and get us to back off! But we’re not going to, because we know he’s weak! Just last month we crushed the largest army he could muster, and now he’s only got about fifteen thousand of his most loyal troops hiding behind those walls! I say we rip them asunder and end this right now!” All too quickly, the ranks of the army came to a stop in front of the massive gates of Onyx Ridge. The iron constructions were barely fifty feet away, the same distance as a good horseshoe kick from where Smart Cookie was standing. But there was no sound, with the only exception being the collective lungs of thousands of Crystal Ponies in close quarters. Commander Jade turned to one of her generals, a small stallion with a determined face. “General, I want the catapults aimed at their artillery. As soon as they send their first shots off, take them apart. If you miss after the first volley, pull back behind the hill to where they can’t shoot ours and focus on the gate. If we lose our siege engines, we’re stuck in the open. We’ll be slaughtered if that happens.” The general nodded and withdrew into the crowd of soldiers behind him, barking off orders as he did so. Smart Cookie looked over his tail to see several messengers scatter towards the rear of the Union lines with the messages of their officer. Before he could watch them scramble to the siege weapons, however, a thunderous voice echoed across the entire clearing. “Warlord Halite, present yourself immediately!” Jade declared in a volume that seemed physically impossible to reach. “I, Commander Jade of the Crystal Union, have business to conduct with you!” There was an unbearable delay as Smart Cookie craned his neck towards the tops of the walls. He could make out the sharp points of numerous weapons bristling along the crenellations, as well as the shining bodies of the Crystal barbarians behind them. The barbarians were glaring at the Unionists below, and several were slamming their mighty weapons against the onyx stone to try and intimidate their opponents. Just as quickly as it started, however, it ended when a gray pony stuck his head out over the walls, his heavy black armor seeming to blend in with the onyx stone he stood atop. “I know who you are, Jade!” warlord Halite spat back at the mare. “What business do we have to discuss here? I’ll tell you what, there is none!” Jade glared back at the warlord and spread her wings, but Halite shouted her down before she could speak. “You think that we are going to surrender? Just because you have more ponies does not mean that you have the advantage. I have the walls, I have the artillery, and it should be you who is surrendering today!” “And why is that, Halite? Do you not understand what it means to be attacker and defender?” Jade taunted back, although Smart Cookie noticed that her hoofing had spread into a more balanced and ready stance. All around her, her soldiers copied her actions, and Smart Cookie clumsily adopted the combat stance as well. Halite waved his hoof in front of his face as if he were trying to brush away the stupidity of the question addressed to him. “Every one of your soldiers are dead, Jade. What do you think my catapults have been doing while we’ve been talking? Sitting still and collecting snow?” He pointed with his hooves to either side, where the catapults had finished rotating and were angled at a dangerously steep angle. “I’m offering you one more chance to surrender now, or your soldiers die by the thousands, Jade. Just how much are you willing to stake on this pathetic dream of yours?” Jade drew her sword and raised it to the sky, each and every follower doing the same. “I have already staked my life on it, Halite! I damn well hope you are ready to stake yours!” Halite smiled. Jade growled. Smart Cookie cringed. And the world exploded into flying stone, screaming bodies, and diving pegasi. ----- Clover gulped and leaned around the corner, her breathing uneven and her shoulders shaky as she watched the group of Crystal Ponies standing in the open ahead of her. Her legs were sore from crouching for so long, and she nervously glanced at the sky again. The sun was continuing its ascent, and every minute that she and Platinum wasted, the streets became a little bit brighter. “Are they gone yet?” Platinum whispered across her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the length of the alleyway they had just snuck down. Beads of sweat adorned her neck, accompanied by the occasional wince as the void ring found some pocket of her mana that it had yet to consume. “Not yet,” Clover whispered back. She bent down and lowered her head to the ground, slithering her neck around the corner like a snake. The three barbarians were still laughing and punching each other in the face as some sort of friendly gesture. Clover rolled her eyes as the largest one toppled the smallest to a round of raucous laughter. Stallions. She would never understand them. Across the dirt road was a stack of crates lying in the shadow of a rather large building. It was only thirty feet away—Clover figured she could cross that distance in two seconds at a quiet trot—but the crossing was in full sight of the three barbarians. There was no way that she could get across without being spotted. She groaned and tapped her skull, trying to think of what she needed to do for an invisibility spell. Star Swirl had taught her one once, some very long time ago, but the lesson itself was dusty in her mind. How she wished she would have had more time to prepare before leaving for this mission with Platinum. She could have learned so many useful spells in that time. Just as she began to prepare her leylines to order the mana into what she hoped was the correct pattern for the spell, she heard shouting from the group of barbarians. Gasping in alarm, Clover stumbled backwards and pressed herself flat against the wall. “Get down!” she hissed to Platinum, even as she felt her own knees buckling under her. The thundering of hooves was getting closer, and Clover could see little pebbles shaking in the dust and snow around her. Her Arcana wrapped around the hilt of the sword and held it by her side, but she whimpered quietly as she did so. Sure, she had taken on one surprised warrior alone, but three charging Crystal barbarians? She stood a snowball’s chance in Tartarus of fighting them off. The terrifying, pounding hooves came closer towards the alley, and Clover gritted her teeth, ready to spring forward and fight them off if need be. At least she would give Platinum time to get away. But just before she jumped, she saw the trio rush completely past the alleyway. Confused, Clover lowered the sword and inched closer towards the corner, swallowing hard to steady her breaths. Just then, dozens of other soldiers rushed past her in the same direction as the three she just saw. Yelping quietly, she scrambled back into the shadows against a quivering Princess Platinum. “Where are they all going?” the white mare whispered, leaning slightly to her side to look around Clover’s trembling body. A cloud of kicked up dust and snow met her face head-on and the Princess recoiled, spluttering and coughing at the foul grime that assaulted her nostrils. The two unicorns lay pressed against the wall for several minutes as what seemed like the entirety of Onyx Ridge’s garrison rushed past them. They both knew that if any of the soldiers so much as glanced in their direction, they would be killed instantly. But no soldiers looked to the side, and soon the streets were empty. Slowly rising to their hooves, Clover and Platinum stole cautious steps out into the open, looking up and down the streets but seeing nopony. There seemed to be a lot of shouting coming from the north end of Onyx Ridge, but at this distance it was so faint it seemed only like a dull roar. “Wonder what that’s all about,” Clover muttered. Checking the streets one last time, she began to sprint towards cover on the far side. “Come on, Princess. Hopefully it’ll be a little easier to reach the armory now.” Galloping between crates and boxes that formed cover of all sorts, Clover and Platinum made their way deeper into the heart of Onyx Ridge. Several times they thought they heard soldiers, but cautious approaches always revealed that it was simply their imagination. Onyx Ridge seemed deserted—a curious implication, given its size, but at this point it didn’t seem too far from the truth. Ten minutes of galloping and hiding brought them to the base of the black castle in the center of Onyx Ridge, and in that time they had still seen nopony else. Whatever it was that called the attention of the warriors to the north of the fortress, it must have required the focus of the entire garrison. Clover shuddered to think what it could be that demanded the concerted efforts of twenty thousand soldiers. “There! The armory!” Platinum whispered, bringing Clover’s thoughts back to the present. Just off to the side of the castle stood a low-lying brick and mortar building with a heavy door swinging wide open. Inside, several swords and spears glinted in the dim gray of the late morning light. Hundreds of hoofprints left the snow and mud churned up in front of the entrance, and several barrels and crates had been knocked over. “It looks like a tornado hit this place,” said Clover as she walked into the doorway. Inside, the disarray seemed even worse. Weapons were scattered across the floor and several racks were upturned. There must have been a mad rush to grab swords and gear before every warrior relocated to the north. Onyx Ridge was preparing for an assault of some kind; that much was certain. Clover began to rummage through the piles of equipment, brushing aside swords, spears, and war axes of all kinds until she found what she was looking for. Using her Arcana, Clover levitated a pair of tongs into the air and turned towards Platinum. The princess still had yet to recover from her sprint throughout the camp and was panting heavily. Hopefully, the removal of the void ring would take care of that. “Hold still,” Clover commanded, placing the tongs around the ring on Platinum’s horn. “This might hurt just a little bit.” Platinum looked up, her eyes filled with worry. “What do you mean it might HURT?!!” The void ring crackled with mana as Clover wrenched it loose from Platinum’s horn. The crystals were intent on devouring as much mana as they could on their way out, and the Princess’ horn strobed with uncontrolled Arcana as the mana was pulled free. After a brief struggle, Clover managed to tear the ring away from Platinum and fling it over her shoulder, where it clinked and clattered across the piles of swords laying in the corner of the room. The white mare instantly collapsed and began rubbing her horn, but her moans were no longer of pain, but of relief. “Ooooh… That’s divine…” Platinum hummed to herself, finding her returning strength sufficient to clamber to her hooves. She turned to Clover and, smiling, threw herself into a heartfelt embrace with her companion. “Thank you for getting that horrid thing off! Thank you, thank you!” The strength of Platinum’s hug nearly crushed Clover’s ribs and left her gasping for breath. “I… you’re… welcome,” she wheezed. “Please…” Platinum released her friend, letting Clover fall to the ground on her flanks. “Sorry. Right then, Clover darling, let’s get going, shall we?” Collecting several swords in her recharging Arcana, Platinum left the armory and began to trot back towards the prison block. Clover gathered several weapons of her own and, along with the tongs, followed her princess away from the castle. The walk back to the prison cells was considerably quicker than the walk to the armory now that the soldiers were cleared from the streets. Sidling up next to Platinum, Clover deposited her weapons at the foot of Greenleaf’s cell and leaned in to shatter the lock. “Ha! I knew you had it in you, Clover,” Greenleaf praised from the back of his cage. “Bust open these locks and melt off the void shackles, and we’ll be good to go.” Two burst of Arcana later, and Greenleaf was stretching his legs outside of his cage. He sighed in pleasure as he cracked his back and shook out each of his hooves in turn. “Ah, that’s better. That’s the life. Been months since I even stepped out of that filthy iron cage. Quick, let’s work on getting the rest of our compatriots out of here.” Clover nodded and turned to work on Diadem’s cage. “Platinum, take my tongs and try and get that ring off of Greenleaf’s horn. I’ll open the locks and send any unicorns to you.” Diadem began bouncing up and down in front of Clover as she worked, the chains fixing her leg to the bars rattling with each hop. “You did it! You did it, you did it! You guys are so awesome! I want to be just like you when I grow up!” Her excitement caused Clover to chuckle, and she popped the lock without too much trouble. Walking into Diadem’s cage, she bent down and focused her Arcana on the chain around her leg. “I know you’ll be a wonderful mare when you grow up, Diadem. I’m just happy to give you that chance.” The chain shattered with a light tinkling, and Diadem immediately bounced out of her cage and hopped over to where Platinum stood with the tongs, still working on Greenleaf’s horn. “Now, let’s see about—” A thunderous voice interrupted her, and Clover spun towards the north where she heard it echoing. “Warlord Halite, present yourself immediately! I, Commander Jade of the Crystal Union, have business to conduct with you!” Clover backpedaled from the intensity of the summons. Her mind’s encyclopedia sifted through the millions of pages of its contents until she found the information she was looking for. “The Crystal Union is still around? I thought that they had been wiped out years ago.” Greenleaf looked towards the northern wall and winced as Platinum finally wrenched the ring around his poisoned horn. “They’re around, alright. I used to do scouting for them before I…” his voice trailed off, and he gestured around him. “Before this. Commander Jade’s a fine leader. Halite’s got to be quaking in his armored hide right now.” Clover raised an eyebrow as she went to open the lock of an earth pony mare. “Really? How big of an army has Jade got?” “I reckon it’s somewhere upwards of sixty thousand,” Greenleaf supposed. “Halite used to have that many soldiers here in Onyx Ridge or in the neighboring countryside, but he sent them off a long time ago to try and rout her army. Seeing as how she got here first, I’d say that force is no more. No wonder there’s only been a skeleton crew stationing this fortress.” Again, Jade’s voice rang out over the fortress. “And why is that, Halite? Do you not understand what it means to be attacker and defender?” She appeared to be challenging something Halite had said, but without context it was impossible to figure out. Instead, Clover focused on getting the rest of the prisoners out of their cages—a monumental task, considering how many there were. “So I assume we’re not going to be leaving by the front gate,” Platinum supposed as she tugged on Diadem’s void ring. Greenleaf simply laughed and shook his head. “Well, that was the original plan, actually, because there’s no other way out of Onyx Ridge without two hundred feet of rope.” He picked up a sword from the ground and made a few swings with his neck. “We’re going to have to find another solution then.” Clover finished melting the latch on a void shackle and set another unicorn free before moving on to the next one. “What about the Union, though? You think they can help us get out of here?” “Only if they can get through those gates,” Greenleaf countered. “And they’re mighty hard to get through from the outside. I bet they can shrug off catapult fire like it’s nothing.” Jade’s voice echoed across the fortress one last time in a peak of defiant rage. “I have already staked my life on it, Halite! I damn well hope you are ready to stake yours!” Then the shouting began, and the ground shook as catapults exchanged fire. The prisoners all huddled together close to the ground as shots began to fall inside Onyx Ridge, skewering towers and buildings a short distance inside the walls. There was a tremendous clang as stone bounced off of iron, but the sound of iron falling to pieces was distinctly lacking. Clover looked up again to where the towers over the main gate were just barely visible. Then she saw catapults lining the east and west walls of Onyx Ridge, silent and unmanned. A sly smile crept across her face. Greenleaf saw it, then saw what she was looking at, then let the same expression shape his own muzzle. “Right. Let’s get the rest of the prisoners free, and see whether or not we can give the Union a little bit of inside help.” Diadem began bouncing in circles around Greenleaf and Platinum while they worked. “Oh boy! A battle! I always wanted to be a mighty warrior like my brother one day!” Clover simply laughed and shattered yet another lock. Halite was about to get a rather rude wakeup call from the ponies he had abused for so long. ----- “Get down! Here comes another volley!” Smart Cookie flung himself against the ground, grunting in pain as the impact forced the air out of his lungs. Several-ton boulders landed all around him, launching plumes of dirt, snow, and blood into the air. As soon as the volley from Onyx Ridge ended, the Unionist catapults fired their rounds at the walls of the fortress. The Unionist boulders were even larger, and each one found some mark on the walls. Thousands of shards of onyx rock came flying off of the fortress, raining down death on any pony below. Scrambling backwards, Smart Cookie found his hoofing and managed to scurry away from the worst of the stone rain. The screams redoubled around him as several shards weighing almost a hundred pounds each skewered several Crystal Ponies by his sides. “Keep firing!” Jade shouted over the roar of the siege. Her face was covered in dirt and Crystal blood, and strands of her mane had forced their way out from under her helmet and across her eyes. “I want those catapults taken down! Don’t tell me that we don’t have the angle needed on them!” Smart Cookie scrambled over to the mare, his knees shaking the most they had ever shook in his life. As smaller rocks from Onyx Ridge’s half-sized catapults landed around him, he had to resist the urge to grab onto Jade’s legs and begin bawling like a foal. “Look out!” somepony shouted, pointing his hoof towards the sky. “Here they come again!!” “Right!” Jade screamed back. “This is it! Everypony brace yourselves!” Smart Cookie ducked low and held his sword to the side as he spotted the figures in glinting armor streaking across the sky. With a murderous roar, almost a hundred pegasi ripped through the Union’s lines, scattering blood, guts, and armor across the battlefield. Each pegasus found a target and killed it as they passed at frightening speed, and aside from a few torn feathers, Smart Cookie couldn’t tell if they had even wounded one of the flying warriors. When the group passed and retreated into the smoky cloud cover, he pressed his side against Jade’s and shouted up to her. “Just what the hay are Cirrans doing here?! And why are they attacking us, not Halite?!” Jade grunted and shoved Smart Cookie to the ground, narrowly dodging a ballista round in the process. Pulling the earth pony to his hooves, she began to sprint along the front lines towards a siege tower. “They ain’t part of the Legion, I can tell you that! They’ve been harassing our supply lines for months now! Red armor and loose command structure, they’re deserters for sure!” Stopping at the side of the siege tower, she screamed a few words to the frightened sergeant and got him to order the tower to advance on the walls. “For some reason, perhaps that very reason, they’ve allied themselves with Halite and his bastards!” Another wave of Unionist artillery slammed itself against the walls, tearing large gashes out of the top and ripping apart several of Halite’s catapults. The siege engineers had adjusted their aim to fire on the top of the tower, and the effects were devastating. In addition to the ruined catapults, the stone boulders ripped down several of the walkways and towers, sending dozens of barbarians plummeting to their deaths, screaming. Another of the stones slammed against the gates, but other than putting a dent in its construction it did little against the massive bars of iron. “How’re we going to get through that?!” Smart Cookie shouted to Jade. The armored mare simply through Smart Cookie onto the siege tower and fluttered up after him, pointing to a hole in the side of the wall. “If we can’t batter down the gates, we’ll take the control rooms and raise them that way! Good thing Halite didn’t have enough onyx to build solid walls! We’ve got an interior we can access—assuming the tower can get there is all.” Kicking open a door, Jade ran in and flew up the central shaft of the tower, gesturing for Smart Cookie to follow on the ladder. Smart Cookie gulped and clambered up after her, struggling to ascend with the unnatural weight of the iron pressing down on his shoulders. The siege tower shook violently, almost flinging him off of the ladder when he was near the top, but Jade bent down and hauled him up by his mane. “Commander!” shouted an out-of-breath private. “Major Malachite’s tower! Look!” Smart Cookie and Jade both leaned over the railing and saw the foremost tower advance on Onyx Ridge’s walls. As it approached, all the remaining catapults on Onyx Ridge’s northern wall turned and aligned with the tower, their crew loading the massive rounds into their baskets and winching back the arm. At the command of some unseen barbarian officer, all the catapults released at once, piercing the siege tower from several different angles with their hefty stones. The result was absolutely devastating. The tower shook twice and then collapsed in a violent explosion of wood and splinters. It listed heavily to the side as it fell, raining fire and wooden planks down on all below, until the bulk of the engine snapped in two and fell directly on top of a company of Crystal Ponies. The screaming and dismay was difficult to make out above the roar of the battle, but it was there alright. “Buck!” Jade shouted, turning back to the rest of the ponies on the tower. “When this thing hits the wall, I want everypony through that hole in seconds! The longer we wait, the more time they—” “Incoming!” Smart Cookie screamed, knocking Jade to the floor of the tower with his shoulder. Fifteen pegasi screeched by overhead, their wingblades tearing horrid and ragged holes through the cluster of soldiers on deck. Several Crystal Ponies tried swinging their swords at the pegasi as they passed, but the flying soldiers were too fast and nimble for any of them to connect. Just like before, the group of Cirrans banked hard and rose into the cloud cover when they had finished their attack, effectively concealing their movement. “Holy shit!” exclaimed one soldier, clutching his chest to try and slow his heart. “That’s great, just bucking great, man! Now what the buck are we supposed to do?! We’re in some real fruity shit now, man!” “Hang on!” Jade retorted, spreading her wings to gather her soldiers attention. “Just another hundred feet and we’re at the walls! Just a little more!” Unfortunately, the spreading of her wings also caught the attention of the nearest catapult. Shouting, the barbarians manning it heaved and struggled, managing to turn the weapon around and lower it towards the tower. The arm was levered back, and two of the largest barbarians managed to haul a boulder into the basket. “Game over man, game over!” shouted another Union soldier. “What’re we going to do now?! What’re we—” His voice was cut off by the sudden explosion of the catapult as a massive ballista round skewered the construction, launching the weapon off of the walls and down to the bloody ground below. Jade, Smart Cookie, and the rest of the soldiers on deck huddled under the shrapnel and splinters of the destroyed catapult as they landed all around them. “What was that?!” Smart Cookie exclaimed, rising to his hooves alongside. Jade. The Commander squinted, but soon her face broadened in a smile. “Looks like we’ve got some inside help!” She shouted. With a mighty thud, the siege tower connected with the hole in the side of Onyx Ridge’s wall and latched on. Kicking down the boarding gate, Jade stood aside as her cheering soldiers rushed inside and began to attack the nearest barbarians they could see. Then she turned tail and followed them, Smart Cookie right behind her. “Let’s show Halite how little his fortress can do for him now!” ----- “Boom! Hahaha! Load another one! Don’t give them any reprieve!” Clover wiped the sweat off of her brow with a hoof before returning to the stack of ballista bolts and fitting another one to the body of the machine. Her, Platinum, Greenleaf, and the other prisoners had commandeered one of the ballistae on the west wall and had managed to rotate it almost completely around to fire on the siege weapons fixed to the north wall. With Diadem’s keen eye and surprisingly accurate aim, they had just shorn one catapult completely off of its mounted position on the wall and were moving on to the next target. “Whew!” Platinum grunted as she used her powerful Arcana to winch back the cord on the ballista while Clover loaded the next round with her own magic. Despite the physical exertion, she seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to strike back at the ponies who had so badly disgraced her the past few days. “Where’s that Halite fellow? Put a shot straight through his skull for me!” Diadem scrunched her face and squinted with one eye down the length of the ballista shot Clover had loaded. “Uh, Halite’s the big mean one, right? Not the mean one, but the big mean one, like, the mean mean one who’s mean… yeah, I don’t see that one, but I see another catapult!” Sticking her tongue to the side, the filly made the appropriate mental calculations and began to give directions to the stallions moving the weapon. “Alright, a little right… a little more… now down, left, down again… there!” Hopping up and down in the seat meant for a pony twice her size, Diadem looked absolutely ridiculous behind the gunner’s station, but she was surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly) enthusiastic about being in control of such an awesome machine. “Alright! Winch back, stand clear, and FIRE!!” With a tremendous thwack of its drawstring, the ballista released its next round at Greenleaf’s command. The oversized arrow cut its way across the fortress and slammed straight into the back of the next catapult, tearing the throwing arm from the assembly and braining one of the stallions in its crew. Clover winced at the gore and glanced towards Diadem, but apparently the filly had been too excited about the successful hit to notice the particularly gruesome way that her aim had just killed another pony. “Ha! We’re showing them!” Greenleaf laughed, shaking the sweaty hairs of his mane from his face. “I haven’t felt this alive in ages! Halite, your reputation ain’t worth shi—” He stopped, glancing over his shoulder at the filly watching him intently, and swallowed the last letter of his curse. “Ahem. Worth crap.” Clover sniggered and went to grab the next round with her Arcana. “Watch it, Greenleaf, don’t forget we’ve got a child here!” Diadem spun in the seat, her face filled with an adorable pout. “Hey! I’m not a child! I’m ten!” “With aim like that you might as well be twenty-five,” Greenleaf muttered, turning to find another target. Suddenly his face blanched, and he scrambled to grab his sword. “Incoming barbarians, twelve o’clock! Get your flanks in gear and plug the gap!” Several of the prisoners grabbed their weapons and rushed forward to stand by Greenleaf’s side, forming a phalanx of death between the advancing Crystal barbarians and the commandeered ballista. Even then, it was only a hoofful of poorly equipped prisoners against fifty incoming barbarians. Platinum bit her lip as she wrenched back the drawstring of the ballista. She could see the incoming barbarians over Greenleaf’s shoulders, and she knew they were going to get slaughtered. Latching the massive cable into place, she turned towards Diadem. “Aim it at the walkway. We need to take out those mean ponies before they get to Greenleaf.” Diadem’s head bobbed up and down, and she looked down the round Clover finished loading into the assembly. “Alrighty then. Um, go down, then waaaaay to the left… now up a little bit… no that’s too far… good!” “Right!” Platinum shouted, wrapping her hooves around the control lever. “Have at you!” With a loud click, the lever slid into the firing position and released the cable on the ballista. Again the cord snapped forward, launching its deadly missile at the advancing ponies. Clover barely had time to shield the little filly’s eyes from the gore before the missile turned fifty charging ponies into red slush across the walkway. Platinum gritted her teeth and worked on pulling the cable back, trying to shrug off the wanton death she just witnessed. Across the northern wall, several more Crystal Ponies had emerged, but these ones were different. They were covered in iron and cyan armor, and they immediately attacked the barbarians nearest to them as they stormed out of the stair tower. Most surprising of all, however, was the massive mare leading them, a pony with both a unicorn’s horn and a pegasus’ wings. Hacking away with her sword and swinging her wings, the mare fought her way through reams of Crystal barbarians as she advanced towards the three towers above the massive iron gates. “You see her?!” Greenleaf exclaimed, pointing to the mare. “That’s Commander Jade! Damn, I never thought I’d see the day. I always met with her generals when I scouted for her, but never the mare herself. How’s about we give her a little help taking those towers?” “Right!” Platinum called back. “Diadem, see that big green mare over there?” Seeing the little filly nod, Platinum pulled the priming lever on the ballista into place and pointed towards a knot of barbarians. “Don’t let any of the mean ponies get to her or her followers. She’s our friend.” “Okie dokie!” Diadem chirped back, and Platinum felt the need to suppress a motherly shake of her head. The little filly’s cheery demeanor was just too out of place for the battle raging around them. The ballista was aimed and another round was fired, tearing a chunk of the walkway off and taking several barbarians with it. Commander Jade skidded to a halt in front of the sudden gash that opened up in front of her and glanced towards the rogue ballista, confusion illuminating her face. Diadem waved back at her. Jade shook her head like she was trying to clear a daydream, incredulity clearly plastered across her features. She looked like she wanted to fly over and make sure that she wasn’t insane, but attacking barbarians forced her to bring her attention back to the fight. Hacking apart several warriors and sending their bodies tumbling down from the walls, Jade and her entourage of Crystal Ponies, plus one earth pony that Platinum noticed, advanced into the first gatehouse. “Heehee! She saw me, she saw me!” Diadem sang as she bounced in her seat. “I’m getting to know sooooo many cool ponies! Clover the Clever, Princess Platinum, and now Commander Jade? Oooh, when do I get to meet Commander Hurricane and Chancellor Puddinghead?” Clover laughed and fitted yet another bolt to the ballista. “Only three left! Make them count!” Greenleaf surveyed the remaining stockpile and pointed to four armed unicorn stallions. “You, go and find some more rounds for this thing! Our lives may very well depend on it!” Nodding, the nominated group galloped away, breaking down the door of the nearest watchtower and sprinting inside. Platinum levered back the cable and slotted it again, but collapsed shortly thereafter. The strain was starting to become too much for her, even though she was very gifted in terms of magical strength. “Ungh… Clover, darling, you think we could switch? I can’t… keep this up for much longer.” “Sure,” Clover called back, walking over to Platinum’s side and letting the mare rest against her shoulders. “Take all the time you need. We’re almost d—” Diadem’s sudden panicked shrieking cut off her words. Before Clover could even turn to see what was wrong, three sizeable stones slammed themselves into the masonry around the ballista. Catapults and ballistae on the eastern wall had turned completely around to return fire on the rogue ballista the prisoners had captured, and their volleys were relentless. Stones and bolts of all sizes began to descend on their position. “Diadem, run!!” Clover shouted over her shoulder, pushing Platinum towards Greenleaf, who immediately took up her weight. The frightened filly clambered over the body of the ballista and launched herself towards Platinum, her hooves outstretched as she flew towards the green mare. No sooner had her hooves left the ballista did a massive stone slam into the nose of the machine, ripping the wood apart and tearing a gaping hole in the onyx walkway where the prisoners were assembled. The taut cable that Platinum had exhausted herself wrenching back into position broke free, and it snapped across the walkway with such force that it decapitated three unlucky prisoners before cleaving several crenellations in two. The terrible rain of stone wasn’t over yet, though, and more ballista rounds and catapulted boulders smashed into the walkway around them. Clover heard the horrible groaning of strained stone, and she felt the floor buckle beneath her. Looking down, she saw massive cracks rip across the polished, black surface of the walkway, spouting plumes of dust and black gravel into the air. With a sickening lurch, the section of the walkway Clover and Diadem lay on angled downwards several degrees, and Clover felt her hooves dangle over the edge. “Hang on!” Greenleaf shouted, grabbing a spear from a nearby earth pony and thrusting it towards Clover. “Just hang on!” Clover heard the distinctive whoosh of more catapults being launched, and she knew where they were aimed. With a forlorn glance, she looked towards Platinum’s fearful and pleading eyes and mouthed an apology. Pulling Diadem close to her side, Clover shut her eyes and released a deep breath as the first of the stones slammed into the wall beneath her. ----- Jade kicked her hooves out in front of her as a massive ballista bolt shredded the onyx walkway only a few feet ahead of her. The shaft of wood cleaved the crenellations on both sides of the wall in two as it took out the legs of several barbarians, sending the limbless bodies tumbling off the side, shrieking in agony. Whirling about, she flared her wings in preparation to streak across the fortress and take out the offending artillery piece. She quickly located the culprit along the western wall, and took two steps forward to take flight. Suddenly, she stopped in shock. There in the engineer’s seat was a little filly that looked no more than ten or eleven. Not only that, but the filly was smiling and waving at her. Around her, several tired and dirty unicorns worked on loading another round into the ballista. They were devoid of armor or the crystalline sheen of the Crystal Ponies, so she knew that they weren’t on Halite’s side. Then realization clicked. They must have been the crew that took out the catapult that almost killed her and her soldiers. She laughed and turned quickly to block the sword swing of a barbarian with her bladed wing. Halite’s prisoners were biting back at him! Their aid would help accelerate the fall of the fortress immensely. “Come on!” She shouted to the soldiers following her. “Let’s take down the first gate! On me!” With a righteous fury, she batted aside several barbarians and entered the first gatehouse. Smart Cookie stumbled in after her, hyperventilating and tripping over his own hooves as the adrenaline guided his limbs instead of his brain. There was fighting all around him, ponies cutting each other apart on their swords of steel and iron. He scrambled closer to Jade’s side and nervously clutched his sword between his trembling jaws. This was a bad idea, a bad, bad idea! The interior of the gatehouse was simply a large stone box with windows on both ends and huge winches in the center meant for raising the several ton gate below. There were ten or fifteen barbarians in the room, and each one found a different Union soldier to engage. Smart Cookie found himself scrambling along the walls and around fighting bodies as he tried to get away from the worst of the melee. Eventually, he found himself at the north end of the room looking out over the Union army below. Multiple siege towers had affixed themselves to the walls, their occupants struggling to reach a hole either too high or too low on the wall to enter. He could see the carnage of several destroyed towers lying outside, as well as piles of bodies of dead soldiers. He estimated that Jade’s army had lost about a quarter of its strength in the attack as they just sat outside waiting for the gates to open. As long as she had troops inside Onyx Ridge, however, Jade wasn’t going to let up on the attack, no matter how many dead it would cost her. Deciding to stop gawking at the carnage outside and do something useful, Smart Cookie examined the massive gate winch for any clues as to how it worked. There were massive wheels and valves of all sizes, as well as several levers affixed to large gears. Huge chains descended into the floor, and massive counterweights hung from the roof of the south wall. Taking a guess, Smart Cookie began to kick open levers and tug on valves to try and produce some effect. With a thunderous groan, the entire gatehouse shook as Smart Cookie opened the last of the levers. There was a hiss of rattling chains, and he could see an absolutely enormous block of onyx plummet past the south windows. Chains inside the gatehouse clanked as they were taken up by the large wheels, and there was a chorus of loud cheering outside as the first of the iron gates lifted. As if on some unheard cue, the remaining barbarians in the room withdrew out the eastern door and began to rush towards the central gatehouse. “Yes!” Jade exclaimed, bucking an unlucky pony out of the northern window. “Keep at it! Two more to go, and Onyx Ridge falls!” Smart Cookie cheered and followed Jade and her soldiers out towards the next gatehouse. Halite’s warriors were in chaos and disarray, struggling to respond to the multiple breaches to the walls and repel the soldiers assaulting the gatehouses. The second gatehouse was stormed and taken in a matter of minutes, and the middle gate was raised without too much incident. The army outside was pressing against the last gate, abandoning caution and worry about what were to happen if one of the gates were to suddenly drop down in their rush to try and get inside. “One more!” Jade called out, rallying her troops around her. “We’re coming for you, Halite!” The last gatehouse was considerably better defended than the first two, as Halite had caught wind of what was happening and had arranged an appropriate response. Speaking of Halite, Smart Cookie caught a glimpse of the gray Crystal stallion in his black armor inside of the last gatehouse. The warlord knew that Onyx Ridge was lost if Jade took the last gate, and he was determined to not let that happen. With a ferocious war cry, Jade and her soldiers plunged into the depths of the third gatehouse and began to take apart the defenders. There were more than in the previous houses, and there was almost no room to move inside. Bodies pressed against bodies in a deadly melee, and the floor soon became slippery with blood. A yell astonishingly close to Smart Cookie’s ear caused him to jump to the side, and he felt the slash of an axe pass dangerously close to his chin. He turned to see a rather large barbarian advance upon him, murderous blood rage filling his eyes. With a monstrous roar, the stallion ripped his axe out of the cloven floor tiles and swung it at Smart Cookie again. The Representative barely managed to dodge that attack, and attempted to swing back with his sword. The iron weapon clanged against the barbarian’s neck armor but did no damage, and the massive pony head-butted Smart Cookie back towards the northern wall. The orange stallion felt his shoulders dangle over the railing as the cold wind flew into his eyes and blinded him. He lurched forward just in time to avoid having his head removed like a chicken under the assailant’s powerful axe. Again Smart Cookie swung at the barbarian, and again his strike proved ineffectual. With a shake of his head, the barbarian grabbed onto the blade of Smart Cookie’s sword with his teeth and yanked it out of the Representative’s grasp. Shouting in dismay, Smart Cookie watched as the piece of iron was flung out of the window and towards the ground below. The barbarian lowered his guard to laugh at the earth pony’s helplessness, and in that time Smart Cookie decided to throw all his chips into the pot and side with the stupidest plan he had ever come up with. He didn’t run away. He didn’t dance around the stallion. He didn’t even call for help. Smart Cookie charged into the monster that was almost twice his size with his shoulder and sent the brute stumbling backwards. The barbarian was shocked that such a little pony would try such a foolhardy action, but Smart Cookie didn’t give him much time to think. Instead, he pivoted on his forehooves and delivered a powerful buck to the exposed stallion’s chest. Smart Cookie had always been an avid horseshoe player and had learned how to play by kicking the shoes towards the target rather than by tossing them with his mouth. Years of practice had given him exceptionally good strength and aim, and the buck sent the barbarian reeling back towards the window. The brute’s back collided with the sill, and he teetered dangerously close to the edge, limbs flailing on either side for balance. One last nudge was all it took to send the behemoth over the edge and falling to his death. “The winch, Smart Cookie, the winch!” Jade shouted across the room to the earth pony as she finished off yet another soldier. “Let the army through!” Smart Cookie turned from the window and breathlessly began slamming levers down on the gate system. The wheels began to turn and the walls shook as the counterweight descended and began to raise the last of the iron gates. “No!!” Shouted a loud voice from behind Smart Cookie, and a figure kicked him to the side and began to reverse the levers. Regaining his hoofing, Smart Cookie saw warlord Halite trying to break apart the chain holding the gate up. Growling, Smart Cookie kicked him away and sent the larger stallion tumbling through the eastern doorway. Jade saw the action and brushed aside Crystal Ponies, barbarian and unionist alike, to get to the warlord. “Halite, you can’t escape! This will be the end of you!” With a loud thud, the counterweight hit the ground and left the last gate fully open. Cheering and shouting began to fill the atmosphere, and Smart Cookie looked out the south window to see the Union pouring into Onyx Ridge, fanning out to hunt down every last barbarian who dared hide or fight between the buildings. Abandoning the sight altogether, Smart Cookie ran out the east door to find Jade and Halite. He didn’t have to look hard. The two ponies were exchanging blows mere yards away from the gatehouse while their respective underlings cut each other to ribbons around them. Smart Cookie lowered his helmet and began to charge towards Halite when the first of the stones hit. A volley of stones was launched from the catapults on the eastern wall, peppering the onyx walkway and slamming against the roofs of the gatehouses. Dismayed, Smart Cookie looked towards the western wall and the allies he hoped were still there. Instead, he only saw the collapsing section of walkway were the friendly ballista had once stood take its crew down to the ground below. “Jade, they’re trying to destroy the gatehouses!” Smart Cookie screamed over the carnage. He knew that if the winches were destroyed, the several ton gates would come slamming down, never to open up again. Luckily, there were already several thousand Union soldiers within Onyx Ridge at this point, with hundreds flowing in every second. If they could get just a few thousand more in, the fort would fall. Jade was too preoccupied with her fight against Halite to notice. Again, Smart Cookie heard the whooshing of catapults and ballistae firing on their position, and he lowered his head against the crenellations to brace for the impact. The stones tore through the wall, leaving the walkway teetering and twisting along the last of the supporting wall. Another large stone was coming in, this one aimed at the very center of the collapsing segment of the wall. Hugging the crenellation tighter, Smart Cookie called out in dismay. Then the stone hit, sending two hundred yards of Onyx Ridge’s northern wall collapsing to the ground below. ----- Streak Wing and his closest Legates flew hundreds of feet over the burning walls of Onyx Ridge. Halite was performing poorly. Typical of a Crystal warlord. He had expected the assault to take all day at the least before it was repelled. Instead, it had taken barely more than an hour for the walls to be breached. Onyx Ridge was lost, and Halite had nopony else to blame but his own stupidity. “Look!” one of the pegasi shouted, pointing with a hoof to the north wall of the fortress. Streak Wing spiraled downwards to take a closer look. Cracking, straining, groaning, the onyx walls of the fortress shattered into thousands of several-ton chunks as they absolutely collapsed from top to bottom. The Union’s siege engines had been effective, and they certainly were resilient. He had lost too many soldiers trying to take them down, and in the end he had only toppled two catapults and silenced one tower. One hundred pegasi were more than a match for five times that number in Crystal soldiers, but they were still only one hundred pegasi. They flew through a cloud of smoke to mask their movements, descending on the other side of the fortress to find more targets to strafe. Eyes focused dead ahead, Streak Wing called over his shoulder to the Legate closest behind him. “Hey, Sleetstop! How many survivors we got left?” “Forty-two, sir,” the Legate called back. “We lost several trying to take down the catapults. More on the general cuts through their lines. We should pull out now if we want to have any left for the attack on Cloudsdale.” Streak Wing sighed and nodded. “Right then. Eagle Tail, go and round up the last of our survivors. We meet at camp, then fly east.” Silence. Streak Wing and the other Legates turned to the space in their formation where Eagle Tail was supposed to be, only to find it empty. They spread out in a circle, confusion on all their faces. “What the hell?!” Streak Wing called out. “Where the hell did he go?!” “He was just here a second ago, sir,” Sleetstop called back. “I swear I was just looking at him before we flew through the cloud cover! Where could he have go—?” His words were cut off with a thud as a shadowy figure shot out of the clouds below and propelled him into the sky. The other Legates scattered, their wingblades rattling in flight. “What was that?!” Streak Wing shouted, looking around him. “Where did it come from?!” “Sir!” shouted one of the Legates, pointing off to the side. Sleetstop’s body was tumbling out of the sky several hundred feet away, blood spraying from a cut in his neck. The body fell to the ground with a sickening crunch audible from even so far away. “Shit!” Streak Wing exclaimed. “Form up! Whoever it is, don’t let them catch you!” There was a shout from behind him, and Streak Wing turned just in time to see the last two of his Legates get tackled out of the sky. Their screams were cut short with the drawing of blades, and Streak Wing was just able to see a black and a yellow coat disappear into the clouds below. “Buck!” he shouted, beginning to dive after them. “Damn it, I knew it was too much to hope that you’d stay dead!!” He plunged through the clouds, but they were so thick it was impossible to see. All around him the world was gray, laden with ice and smoke and ash. He coughed several times as he tried to gather his bearings and see through the impermeable thickness of the stratus. He looked up just in time to brace himself against the charge of a black pegasus clad in onyx armor, wingblades aimed for his throat. > Chapter 11: Warlords and Unity > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 11: Warlords and Unity “...and I want the patrols redoubled on the south watch. I’ve seen reports of movement coming through on that end, advancing on the towns that are under our protection. I don’t think I need to remind you how important it is that they remain secure; your stomachs should be able to do that for you.” Swift Spear brushed aside another scroll with a wave of her hoof. Before her stood several of the Praetorian Guard’s highest commanders, each with an important and delicate article to discuss with her. It was tedious, it was boring, and worst of all, she was exceptionally good at it. She figured that was the reason more reports were coming directly to her, instead of being passed through various secretaries. Snapping the seal on a roll of parchment, Swift unfurled the paper and laid it across her lap. Looking over the title of the scroll, she promptly groaned and spread her wings across Hurricane’s throne, where she had set up shop since his departure. The ridges of the cloudstone and iron that had gone into forging it pressed against her feathers, and she could feel every detail intimately. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Where was she? Oh, right. The letter. Glaring at the stallion who had delivered it to her, she quickly rolled the offending parchment up and burned it with a spark from her wing. “How many times has it been now that Gilded Crescent has requested employment within my husband’s palace?” The stallion responded in an even and flat tone. “Three so far, ma’am.” “Three. Yes, that’s right,” Swift muttered. “Has he figured it out yet that we’re not interested in his services? Times like this, we don’t need gold leaf layered to everything. What we need is more food.” “Ma’am, if I may,” the Praetorian asked, to which Swift nodded her head. “I believe that he is simply looking for a source of income and a steady supply of food. Not many ponies find need of his services any more, and he is most likely penniless and starving.” “So are we,” Swift answered with grim intonation. “We have enough food for two weeks; after that, everything is gone. If hunger doesn’t take us by then, the damned cold will.” She sighed and reached for the next scroll. “With Mobius’ mercy, Hurricane might be able to find something for us out there.” Several Praetorians exchanged glances, but Swift couldn’t read their expressions. “Alright, stallions, what is it?” Just then the door yielded to Imperator Cyclone, scurrying away from the pegasus’ commanding demeanor. Brushing aside several Praetorians, he forced his way to the front of the throne room. “Imperator Swift Spear, I have something that might interest you,” he began, producing a ragged and weathered book. Swift glanced at the Guard assembled in the room. “You are dismissed. We will finish this business later.” There was muttering amongst the Praetorian, but none of them moved. Several glanced at Cyclone, while the rest simply stared back at Swift Spear. Standing up, Swift walked down the steps from the throne and stood nose to nose with the nearest soldier. “You are dismissed, commanders. Did you not understand me?” The stallion blinked, but before anything could happen Cyclone walked over and punched the soldier across the muzzle. “She told you to leave, Guards.” With that, the Praetorian filed out of the room, closing the door behind them. Cyclone watched them go, an exasperated look on his face. Lifting the book with his hooves, he fluttered over to the throne, which Swift had sat in front of. Sighing, Swift Spear let her wings hang by her side. “Thank you. I don’t understand what’s been going on lately. They’ve been more and more insubordinate. I don’t know what it is…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Is it because Hurricane is gone? Do they not understand what he had to do? And that he was the one who wanted to do it?” Cyclone rubbed a spot on his hoof out of existence against the stone floor. “I don’t presume to know the answer, mother. I haven’t been around much lately, but the famine is on everypony’s minds. Naturally, tensions will be high.” Swift released a breath and wrapped her wing across her son’s shoulders. “Yes. I only hoped—I only hope—that I can keep Cirra together until your father returns. The commanders are calling for war.” Cyclone raised an interested eyebrow. “Really? War against whom?” “Against the earth ponies, against the unicorns, against the griffons,” Swift answered. “Against the Gods themselves. It’s idiotic, all of it. We need the other races to survive, and there’s no way in hell that we can take on the griffons like this. They destroyed us when we were at full strength. What will we do now? Bleed on them with starving warriors?” “Perhaps we don’t need the other races to survive…” Cyclone mused. Swift Spear eyed him, but before she could speak he placed the book in front of her. “Here. Typhoon and I found this in Amber Field.” Swift took up the book and paged through its contents. “Hmm… I don’t read the language but it looks familiar. Draconic, maybe?” “Draconic? Really?” Cyclone questioned, looking over the book with renewed interest. “Explain to me how a unicorn gang leader knows Draconic. The wyrms haven’t crossed Snaptooth Pass for seven years.” “Not since the thrashing your father gave them, no,” Swift Spear chuckled. “Regardless, the language is fairly common amongst unicorn mages and scholars. Perhaps he picked it up in his time in River Rock? You said that’s where his gang used to operate from.” Cyclone put the book back into his saddlebag and snapped the cover shut. “The bastard’s probably the son of a drunken noble and an earth pony whore. There’s no way he could have learnt it on his own.” “Hmm.” He stood up and turned to face his mother. The blond mare mirrored his actions, and the two embraced in a short and simple hug. Separating, the two pegasi began to walk towards the throne doors. “Typhoon will have gathered our supplies for the trip by now,” Cyclone began. “I expect we should be back in two or three days, depending on how long it takes Star Swirl to decipher the text. If something develops while we’re in River Rock, however, we may take longer.” Swift nodded and opened the door for the two of them. “Of course. Just be careful when in River Rock. Lapis and the nobles have technically sealed their borders to the Legion, and they had every Legionnaire in the city evicted with the Diamond Guard.” Cyclone scoffed. “Evicted? We could have shredded the entirety of their Guard with only a few thousand Legionnaires. They should be thankful we chose to leave.” A blond wing sailed through the air and smacked Cyclone on the back of the head, causing the stallion to grumble. “Be careful what you say, Cy. There are ponies out there who could consider themselves your equal in combat. There are also many who would love to place a dagger between your ribs.” “If there are any, I haven’t ever seen one brave enough to try,” the red pegasus countered as they entered the courtyard. Typhoon rested against a pillar on the far side, her body almost indistinguishable from the surrounding whiteness with the layer of snow that covered her fur and armor. “I should correct myself; I haven’t ever seen one brave enough to try and live.” Swift shook her head. “I’ll have to talk to your father about this one, Cyclone. You would do well to learn from his caution.” Cyclone stopped and looked at Swift, his head slightly cocked to the side. “If he comes back from his quest, then I will. In the meantime, I have my duties, and he has his.” He leaned closer and planted a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “See you soon, Mom.” Swift wrapped her wings around Cyclone’s neck and felt her son return the action. “Just please be safe. I lost my entire family in the Empire. I don’t want to lose you two now.” Releasing his wings from his mother’s back, Cyclone nodded and walked over to Typhoon. With a quick shake, the younger mare scattered the snow and ice from her fur and stretched her wings in preparation for flight. “We’re all ready to go,” Cyclone said. Shouldering his share of the gear, the pegasus took a few steps out into the open of the courtyard and began his own series of stretches and exercises to warm his wings for the coming flight. “Right,” Typhoon began. Taking a fluttering jump, the mare took three bounds across the snowy courtyard and caught enough air to bring her airborne. “We’ll have a steady crosswind the entire flight down. East-west direction, about thirty miles per hour, I can feel it in my feathers. I hope you’re ready for some endurance flying.” Cyclone shook his head and flew after her, a slight smile in his face. With the exception of the blistering cold and the worsening famine, it seemed almost like the simpler days. Aligning himself to a south-southwest heading, he led the way out of Cirra and towards the Diamond Kingdom. Swift Spear watched her two children fly away, leaving Cloudsdale behind without a second glance. She smiled softly as they went, knowing that they were at least happy in each other’s presence. She looked the opposite direction, seeing the iron throne that Hurricane used to sit on rest under a lonely shadow. The darkness and the light from the windows mingled in just the perfect way to create the illusion that a black pegasus was sitting there, resting his forehooves on an impressive sword planted into the cloudstone before him. With a sudden and disheartening feeling of loneliness, Swift closed the door to the throne room and retreated deeper within the palace to her own thoughts and company. ----- Streak Wing gasped as he struggled to clamber to his hooves. The impact had hurt far more than he had anticipated, but his neck was still in one peace. Quick thinking and use of his wingblades had seen to that. Hurricane’s attack, however, had knocked the deserter out of the sky even after the successful block. He rubbed his shoulder as he stumbled forward and picked up his axe, flexing his wings all the while to ensure that they weren’t damaged in any way. He had hit the ground and slid several dozen feet across the snow, ice, and mud to where he slammed his side against a large block of onyx that the Union catapults had shorn from the walls. Had he not have been wearing armor, the blow would have certainly shattered his shoulder and dislocated his foreleg at the very least. Stumbling forward several steps into the open, Streak Wing looked around him. He had landed at the northeast corner of the remains of the fortress. Directly in front of him were the surging masses of Crystal Ponies pouring into Onyx Ridge. The shattered remains of several siege towers and the mountains of bodies cast a hellish look over the landscape as massive fires burned in the background, both on the wood of the towers and along the remaining walls of Onyx Ridge. The smoke and ash had turned the sky red, and everything glowed with the dull haze of war. Several hundred feet to his left, the massive onyx slabs that had made most of the northern wall still clattered over each other as the nearly two hundred foot wall finished its collapse, strewing black boulders and rubble everywhere. It was a sickening sight to see such a mighty fortress brought down into such a pitiful state, and all due to the incompetence of one pony. Streak Wing growled as he began to limp away. Halite should have started to massacre the Union army and push Jade away before she could get up to the gates. It would have saved the warlord his neck and Streak Wing his soldiers. “Streak Wing.” The pegasus in question bared his teeth and turned around to see two pegasi land behind him, one black and one yellow. The two parties eyed each other down, letting the billowing smoke plume between them in place of words, before Hurricane stepped forward. “You know how this ends,” Hurricane noted, beginning to walk to his right around the clearing. Pan Sea began to follow him, but Hurricane held a single wing aloft and stayed him. “I will finish this, Pan Sea. Alone.” Opposite him, Streak Wing had begun to copy Hurricane’s movements, and the two began to circle each other with nothing more than twenty feet of snow and ash between them. “You were dead, Hurricane! You should have stayed dead!” he growled, settling his jaw around the handle of his axe. “Nopony survives a poisoned dagger to the chest!” Hurricane’s brow twitched as if he found that fact amusing. “I’m a survivor, Streak Wing. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve been doing since I was twenty years old. If you wanted me dead, you should have done the deed yourself instead of relying on poison to do your work for you.” Streak Wing scowled at Hurricane and quickened his pace. “You may have survived one encounter with me, Hurricane, but this time, I’ll make sure I cut your head from your body before I fly back to Cloudsdale!” Hurricane spread his wings out on either side of him and crouched low, waiting for the inevitable attack he knew the former Legate would supply him. “You had an entire company of traitors with you last time, Streak Wing. Today, it’s just you and me. You and your axe versus me and my sword. Are you ready?” “Of course I’m ready!” Streak Wing spat. “Let’s see what you can do, Hurricane! I pit my axe, Vengeance, against your Sword of Storms! Vindictam versus the Gladius Procellarum! Let’s see who comes out on top, and we can end this once and for all!” Without any noticeable shift in his position or movements, Streak Wing suddenly lunged forward with Vindictam held over his head. He struck out with such speed that he closed the distance between Hurricane and himself in a fraction of a second. In the blink of an eye, the mighty axe was sailing towards Hurricane’s neck with frightening speed. If Hurricane had blinked, his neck would have been split into two that instant. Instead, he spun to his right, drawing his sword in the same motion. The axe slammed into the ground with a merciless force, flinging smoldering bits of dirt and ice into the air with a hiss of steam and a thunderous blast. That was all Hurricane needed to see to tell what kind of skysteel Vindictam was made out of. As soon as his four hooves reconnected with the ground, Hurricane launched himself at Streak Wing with speed to rival his opponent’s own. He slashed the sword towards Streak Wing’s neck, but the traitor managed to catch the blade on his wing and deflect the skysteel from the vulnerable gap between his helmet and his armor. As the motion drew Hurricane over, Streak Wing delivered a quick jab with the ball end of his axe to the black pegasus’ ribs, launching him back and into the ground behind him. Streak Wing was quick to follow up on the counter, turning and swinging his axe at the rolling form of Hurricane. The Commander was able to duck under the slash, pivoting on his front hooves as he did so and delivering a kick to Streak Wing’s jaw. It was a powerful buck that sent a tooth flying Pan Sea’s way, but the traitorous Legate shook it off as if the blow were nothing. Twisting and leaping out of the kick with the athleticism and grace of a dancer, Hurricane placed himself on his rear hooves and scissored his wings towards Streak Wing’s neck. The white pegasus deftly blocked one wing on his axe and the other with one of his own wings, leaving him an opening to try and hack off one of Hurricane’s wings with his remaining bladed limb. Hurricane had to disengage and spiral out of the attack to avoid losing one of his prized wings. Seizing on the opportunity, Streak Wing lowered his shoulder and charged into Hurricane, flipping the black pegasus backwards and into a pile of onyx rubble. Hurricane cracked his neck against the black stones, causing him to cry out in pain. The noise only seemed to entice Streak Wing on, and the pegasus raised his axe over his head and brought it down towards Hurricane. The Commander just barely managed to roll out of the way, feeling the sonic shockwave and the fiery heat as the cumulostratus axe head crushed the onyx rubble beneath it. Coiling his hind legs, Hurricane delivered three bucks in rapid succession to Streak Wing’s face, neck, and chest in descending order. The final kick was delivered with such force to the off balance pegasus that it flung the traitor a good forty feet away where he collapsed awkwardly on the ground. Streak Wing began to scramble to his hooves, planting the end of Vindictam in the ground to support himself. He turned to face Hurricane, but the moment he did so a large brick of onyx stone plowed into his muzzle. The traitor snarled and recoiled from the attack at the exact moment that Hurricane kicked three more stones at Streak Wing. They all collided with varying levels of effect, with the worst drawing the first blood of the fight with a broken nose on Streak Wing. Cursing, the Legate quickly flapped his wings and took to the skies, circling wide left of Hurricane. Scattering the rest of his stones, Hurricane quickly hopped off of the rubble and took to the air after the traitor. The heat and air currents from the fires burning across the battlefield gave his strokes an extra boost, and soon the two pegasi were circling high above the burning fortress of Onyx Ridge. The smoke and the ash made it difficult to see, and Hurricane found himself spiraling wide of several stratus clouds as he pursued Streak Wing. He knew his wings were more powerful than that of the traitor’s, and Hurricane pumped them for everything his feathers were worth. Banking hard left and rolling out to his right, the Commander chased the Legate’s zigzagging pattern through the skies. He had closed the distance to about five feet when Streak Wing suddenly twisted his wings, allowing him to loop over Hurricane and deliver a powerful kick with all four hooves to his back. Hurricane grunted from the impact and fell several dozen feet as he fought to coordinate his wings. When he did so, his ears picked up the faint sound of a slicing blade behind him. Quickly slamming his wings against his sides, Hurricane launched himself downwards at death-defying speeds, and not a moment too soon. He felt a wingblade rip through his tail, tearing a clump of hair from the already short appendage. The ground approached all too fast, and Hurricane flared his wings sharply and changed his direction in near-instantaneity. The strain on his shoulders was incredible, and he felt like he was going to rip the limbs from their sockets in the process, but somehow he recovered and managed to spin in midair to face the direction he came from. He turned just in time to see Streak Wing clumsily abandon the dive angle and taper out into a level flight path away from Hurricane. As soon as the Legate was even, however, he spun around and quickly located Hurricane against the fire-red sky. Pumping his wings, he began to speed towards Hurricane head on. The two pegasi locked eyes, and Hurricane likewise lowered his shoulder and began to flap as hard as he could towards Streak Wing. He knew his acceleration was better than that of the Legate’s, and hopefully the extra speed would pay off when they finally met. A protesting realization cried out in the back of his mind with that thought. They’d meet at an incredibly high rate of speed. If they connected, it was going to be painful, and incredibly so. Wind whipped through his mane and stung his eyes, but something more powerful than a fear of pain got Hurricane’s wings working instead of flaring to the sides to slow and break off his approach. Streak Wing was rapidly getting closer, a brighter and whiter star shooting across the horizon at deadly speeds. As menacing as it looked, Hurricane knew he was faster and stronger. And so he flew. They met all too quickly, but only for a fleeting instant. In that instant, both pegasi struck their left wing out at each other as they passed. Just before they connected, however, Hurricane tilted his side downwards, just barely avoiding the row of razor sharp scales lining Streak Wing’s wing crest. There was a dim spark as the outermost scales of their wingblades glanced off each other without effect. The opposing air currents met with such force that they produced a shockwave of thunder and pushed each pegasus past the other at an even faster speed. As they separated, Hurricane was suddenly buffeted by the wind tunnel Streak Wing had created behind him. The pressure and the wind shear tore several feathers from his left wing, and Hurricane rolled right to escape the force of the draft. After flying at high speed for several hundred feet farther, Hurricane angled his right wing downwards and turned around for another pass. Opposite him, a white speck against a red sky, Hurricane could see Streak Wing do the same. So, they were going to do this again? Very well. Hurricane wasn’t Commander Maximus of Cirra for nothing. Bravery and tenacity were two of his strongest aspects. The thought of high-speed death was nothing to him now. All he knew was that Streak Wing needed to die. Rocketing forward, Hurricane and Streak Wing approached each other even faster than before. The first pass had gotten them warmed up for the second, and both pegasi were determined to connect this time. Taking a deep breath, Hurricane gritted his teeth and braced himself as they approached head-on again. Twisting at an angle, Hurricane raised his bladed wing towards Streak Wing’s body as they passed. Streak Wing countered by making a tiny shift to his bearing with his tail, and instead the two wings collided with each other in flight. The noise could be heard from miles. In a hideous shriek of metal, the scales on each pegasus’ wings shattered into tiny shards of skysteel and water vapor as the heat of the impact broke the steel apart into its component cloud types. The force of the collision produced an audible boom and staggered both pegasi in flight, sending them tumbling down several feet before they recovered. Two shouts of pain were plainly heard from the ground, but neither pegasus fell out of the sky. Hurricane looked over his shoulder to see Streak Wing staggering in flight away from him, and he knew that they weren’t finished yet. No, one more pass would do it. He looked at the tattered remains of the wingblade hanging onto his right wing. Only three scales were left at irregular intervals, clinging to the simple leather assembly bound to the crest of his wing. He bit his lip and angled his left wing downwards, putting that side of his body into attack position. Circling around, Hurricane started his final approach to Streak Wing. Despite the pain he still felt in his right wing, he felt himself going even faster than the previous two times. Opposite him, Streak Wing was struggling to gain speed. This would be his chance, the chance to end this fight once and for all. Pushing and straining, Hurricane felt feathers begin to tear themselves loose from his wings. The air was tightening around him, and the pressure of the skies closed on his back and wings. Forcing his forelegs ahead of him, Hurricane shut his eyes as his speed increased to two hundred miles per hour. The impact with Streak Wing was solid and square. Metal exploded into razor shards with the impact, and a massive thunderclap from the two airstreams colliding shook the burning towers of Onyx Ridge. The two pegasi hung in the air together, bodies crushed against one another, before they tumbled out of the sky, lacking the ability to move their wings. It was a terribly long way down. ----- Smart Cookie coughed as he struggled to push the onyx rubble off of his body. The fall from the walls had been anything but gentle but, all things considered, he was lucky to be alive. Not many ponies walk away from a two hundred foot section of onyx wall collapsing. Managing to free his limbs, Smart Cookie stood up on shaky hooves and looked himself over. He was still intact, which was a blessing, and apart from several nasty cuts and scrapes along his body he was relatively unscathed. Thankfully, his armor had taken the worst of the damage, and he pried the helmet off of his head, massaging his ear as he did so. There was a huge dent in the top of the helmet, and Smart Cookie shuddered as he tossed the scrap metal aside. If he had lost his helmet during the siege, the collapsing wall would have broken his skull for sure. “Jade?” he croaked as he scrambled down the mountain of rubble around him. His ears picked up the sounds of the army storming Onyx Ridge and the cries of the fallen, but he couldn’t distinguish Jade’s voice among them. Cradling his left side, Smart Cookie staggered down onto the ground around the pile of rubble. More bodies than he had ever seen in his life littered the churned soil around him. All had twisted expressions of agony and pain on their faces—those that still even had faces. Limbs and remains were seemingly strewn at random in the snow and ice, and several creaking siege towers lay where they had fallen around scores of bodies. Somewhere he heard the weak voice of some wounded pony crying for help, but Smart Cookie only staggered onwards. There was nothing he could do for the wounded; he was no combat medic. The best he could do was find Jade. His hooves tripped him up several times as he walked, and with each stumble he struggled to find balance. He was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. So thirsty. He licked his parched lips with his dry tongue and tasted only onyx dust. Several bricks shifted position beneath him, and Smart Cookie jumped back in alarm. Something was trying to dig its way out from the rubble, and it was having difficulty emerging. Smart Cookie’s first thoughts immediately were about Jade. Scrambling back to the shifting pile of rubble, he began to toss chunks of onyx to the side to try and help. “Don’t worry, Jade! Don’t worry! I’ll get you out of here! You’ll be… fine…” The limb he had unearthed was gray in coloration, and it wore a spiked black horseshoe on the hoof. As soon as the hoof was free it began to push off more and more of the rubble, and Smart Cookie fell backwards and scrambled away in alarm. “Rrraugh!!” Warlord Halite shouted as he scattered the last of the stone from atop his body with explosive force. Emerging from his hole in the rubble, the warlord stood tall and shook the last of the onyx stones and pebbles from his figure. His crystalline coat seemed to be cracked in several places and his face was covered in shiny blood and grime, but his heavy black armor was spotless. Not a single scratch marred its surface, and the metal seemed to be ringing as it recovered from the blow. A frightening rage was in Halite’s eyes, and they quickly located Smart Cookie and cut through him. “You…” Halite hissed, advancing towards Smart Cookie. The orange stallion squeaked and shuffled backwards on his flanks, too terrified to break eye contact and run. “You!! You were the one who opened the gates!! You were the one who destroyed my fortress!!” Smart Cookie gulped and held his forehooves in front of him in a pleading fashion. “C-Come now, Halite, I t-think you’re g-giving me too much c-credit! I did nothing to your gates, I s-swear!” “Liar!” Halite shouted, stalking closer to Smart Cookie. His battle axe was drawn, and its iron surface glinted in the amber sunlight with a thirst for blood. “This is your fault, earth pony! I don’t know who in Tartarus you think you are to march with a foreign army and advance on Crystal Pony walls, but I swear upon my life it will be the last thing you’ll ever do!” “Wait!” Smart Cookie cried out in vain to stop Halite’s advance. “Can’t we talk about this first?!” “No talk,” Halite growled, raising his axe. “Only death.” Smart Cookie tried to stand and run, but his hoof tripped on a loose collection of rocks and sent him tumbling onto his back. He could only watch in dismay as Halite advanced, aligning the blade of his axe with the Representative’s neck. Just before he could swing it, however, a light blue aura enveloped the blade of the axe and threw Halite to the side. The Crystal Pony called out in surprise and landed roughly on his face several yards away. As he began to stand up, Commander Jade landed by Smart Cookie’s side and spread a protective wing over him. “The only pony who deserves death here today is you, Halite,” she growled as she drew her sword with her Arcana. “You and nopony else. And I’ll be more than happy to give it to you.” Halite sprung to his hooves and gripped his axe between powerful jaws. “I should have figured it would end like this, Jade. You and your damn army may have destroyed Onyx Ridge, but when I kill you I’ll rebuild the whole thing from scratch. You think you can achieve peace for the Crystal Ponies?! I’ll tell you a little something, child, peace is merely the absence of war. So long as strong ponies like me survive, your Union will never find peace. The Crystal Ponies are divided into wolves and sheep. Tell me, which one are you?” “Your analogies are a waste of your breath, Halite,” Jade retorted, beginning to advance on the warlord. “The world isn’t so plainly divided. Good ponies are capable of great things, too. You may be a wolf, but I am a shepherd. I don’t rely on fear to lead.” “Right,” Halite scoffed. “You don’t rely on fear, but you rely on awe. The only reason you have a following is because you’re special, Jade. You’re an alicorn. You’re above everypony else. How large would your army be if you were a regular Crystal Pony like me or the soldiers you claim follow you?” “My race has nothing to do with it, Halite,” Jade insisted. “And I am a Crystal Pony like my soldiers! Horn, wings, or nothing at all, we are all the same, and it’s my destiny to make the Crystal Ponies realize that!” “Perhaps I can help you with that,” Halite sneered, advancing towards Jade. “Horn, wings, or nothing at all, you’ll show the world today that you die like any other Crystal Pony, and I’ll show the world how pathetic your dreams of unity are!” With a ferocious war cry, the warlord charged across the remaining distance to Jade and swung his axe at her neck. She deftly blocked it with the sword she held in her Arcana, skirting to the side of his charge as he passed. She tried to strike at his sides as he stormed by, but the warlord simply jumped away from the strike. Twirling the sword in her magical grip, Jade jabbed and sliced at Halite’s armor, but the warlord caught every strike on his axe. Rebounding from blow after blow, Halite twisted over one jab and managed to slam the blade of his axe into Jade’s shoulder. The armor took most of the impact, but the iron crumpled under the force from the blow and caused the larger mare to stumble backwards. Pressing his advantage, Halite began to bear down on Jade and swing the heavy axe with surprising swiftness. The iron head of the blade was a gray blur as it sailed through the air, and Jade had to work hard with her sword and her wings to block each strike. Metal crashed and clanged against metal, and Jade found herself backpedaling from the onslaught. Flipping over a low swing from Halite, Jade somersaulted in midair with the help of her wings and slammed two hooves down on Halite’s helmet. Instead of bringing the stallion to the ground, however, the alicorn faltered and cried out in pain. Her hooves tripped in the snow and she fell to the ground, panting. Halite smiled and placed a black horseshoe on Jade’s neck, eliciting powerful cries of agony. “Aww, poor Princess. Do the void crystals hurt you? Tut tut. You should be more careful,” he scolded, pressing the shoe harder against her neck. “Ponies with Arcana shouldn’t be fighting Crystal warlords. Haven’t you learned anything in all the years you’ve been at war with me?” Jade struggled under Halite’s hoof, but she couldn’t find the strength to push him off. The crystals were devouring her strength, and even though her father had exposed her to the rocks years ago to demonstrate their potency, she thought that by now she would have had mana reserves greater than what the crystals could absorb. She had forgotten the first rule of the battlefield; assume nothing. Just then, Halite’s weight suddenly disappeared, and Jade found herself able to stand and fight again. Cries of a struggle rang out, and she turned to see Halite trying to shake Smart Cookie off of his neck. The orange earth pony was hanging on for dear life, even as his hind legs flailed out behind him with each powerful buck the warlord delivered. Spreading her hooves, Jade readied a barrage of spells aimed at Halite’s legs. Several bolts of pure mana were loosed from her horn, each one crackling with a ferocious energy. They were aimed true, and looked to hit Halite’s unprotected shins. Before they could connect, however, they were suddenly pulled away by a powerful force from the void crystals in his armor. The metal released a high-pitched ringing noise, and a dozen bolts of energy stronger than even what Star Swirl could muster were reduced to little more than rapidly fading glows on Halite’s armor. Snarling, Halite bucked thrice more and launched Smart Cookie off his back. The flailing orange stallion soared over Jade’s head, and the mare had to duck to not get hit in the face. Pointing her sword at Halite’s heart, she galloped towards him and began to swing with all her might. Halite stood his ground and parried her strikes effortlessly, his teeth bared around the handle of his axe as he twisted his neck back and forth with alarming speed to catch each attack. Leaning to the right, he let one of Jade’s swings bounce harmlessly off of his armor while he gained the momentum to swing at her legs. Jade tumbled backwards away from the blow and advanced again, swinging her wings in coordination with her sword. The combined efforts of three blades aimed at his neck forced Halite to backpedal, and he hopped and dived under successive attacks to avoid getting hit. Growling, he flung himself towards Jade, axe raised over his head. He took a hit to his shoulder that drew blood, but he managed to slam the blade of his axe into the armor on Jade’s flank. The iron collapsed under the blow and the alicorn cried out in pain as Halite darted out of range of her attacks. Catching her sword in her teeth, Jade transitioned her Arcana from holding her weapon to ripping out large chunks of onyx rubble from around her and flinging them in Halite’s direction. The warlord grunted and offered his back to the bricks, where they bounced harmlessly off of his sturdy armor. Sprinting towards him, Jade tried to soften Halite’s defense by pelting him with more stones before attempting to slice him with her sword. Gritting his teeth, Halite twisted under several of the stones before bucking one weighing nearly fifteen pounds straight back at the mare. The stone struck Jade’s armored chest and slowed her charge just enough for Halite to scoot to the side and cut at her legs. Flaring her wings, Jade gave herself enough drag to slow down and shy away from the slice, but the axe head ripped through her upper leg all the same. The wound wasn’t deep, but it began to spurt blood that trickled down her crystalline coat. She spun her hind legs around and managed to jab at Halite’s side, putting all the force she could muster into the attack. The blade connected as intended, the point striking square against Halite’s armor, but it failed to pierce it. The void crystals were simply too strong and resilient, and they deflected the tip of Jade’s sword with ease. Her shock caused her to hesitate, and in that instant Halite delivered several swings at her armor. The iron managed to deflect all of them, but at the cost of winding Jade, forcing her to stumble back from Halite and recover. Seeing this, Smart Cookie grabbed a pole of iron from the rubble-strewn ground and began to gallop towards Halite from behind. The piece of metal fit awkwardly in his mouth and was poorly balanced, but it was the best he could do since he lost his sword. Halite was standing still, watching Jade pat her chest with a hoof and begin to come at him again. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to deal a surprise blow. As his hooves left the ground in his leap towards the warlord’s back, however, Smart Cookie saw the gray stallion widen his stance and turn his ears back towards the airborne Representative. Parrying a strike from Jade’s sword, the warlord pushed her back and galloped into the space he had created in the blink of an eye. Smart Cookie realized his leap was going to fall short, and he extended his hooves to try and catch himself on the ground. Before he could do so, Halite coiled his hind legs and struck out in Smart Cookie’s direction without looking. The orange stallion was launched backwards, his neck suffering from whiplash with the sudden change of direction. Ahead of him, Halite instantly crouched low under Jade’s sword and kicked off of the ground, barreling straight into her chest. The two ponies went tumbling backwards, but Jade managed to kick Halite off before he could do any damage. The powerful warlord landed flat on his face and grunted in pain before rolling out of the fall and readying himself for the next onslaught. Instead of giving it to him, however, Jade flapped her wings and took to the air, circling low and wide circles around Halite. The warlord spun in place, keeping his eyes fixated on the mare, his axe twitching in his grasp. Jade feinted in his direction several times before returning to her wide circles, trying to keep the warlord off balance. A frustrated shout rang out from behind him, and Halite ducked just in time to avoid being clubbed in the back of the head by Smart Cookie’s improvised weapon. Shifting his attention to the orange stallion, Halite quickly struck out at the earth pony. Smart Cookie managed to deflect one swing, but the second cut straight through his shoulder armor and into his flesh. His frayed nerves barely registered the pain other than that his side was burning and that somewhere, a stallion was crying out in agony. With a powerful kick to the jaw, Halite disarmed Smart Cookie and swung his axe at his neck. Before it could connect, a lustrous green wing intervened and deflected the weapon. Screeching with rage, Jade drew her bladed wing across Halite’s back, managing to draw some blood from the unprotected regions of his neck and shoulders. Still, all she did was unbalance the warlord, and he toppled Smart Cookie with a powerful kick before going back to tracking Jade. The mare was still flying in low and wide circles around Halite, waiting for the opportunity to strike at him. She cut across the circle once, kicking and swinging with her sword and hooves, but Halite managed to duck under the attack and strike back, spilling blood from Jade’s unarmored stomach area. She grunted and pulled up, but the wound continued to drip blood as he flew. “Enough of this!” Halite shouted as he raised onto his hind legs. Before Jade could even react, he flung his axe directly at her, an impressive feat when the weapon was about five feet long. Tumbling end over end, the axe sank into Jade’s wing crest with a sickening crunch. The thin blade protecting her wings snapped like a twig, and Jade screamed in pain. Her body became rigid and she fell out of the sky like a crystal statue. Her legs hit the ground first. Then her shoulders and neck, followed by her face. She didn’t make a sound as she slid across the dirt and ice before finally coming to a rest near Smart Cookie. “Jade!” Smart Cookie cried, hobbling to her side. Her limbs were as stiff as the dead, and her face was locked in a twisted expression of pain. The only indication he had that she was alive was her shallow breathing and the light twitch of the afflicted wing. “Well well well, already stiff, isn’t she?” Halite purred from where he stood. “Funny thing about pegasus wings. You snap ‘em in two, and the body goes into shock. It’s supposed to help slow a fall if it were to happen in midair, but it leaves them vulnerable on the ground until they recover.” He walked towards Jade’s side, laughing as Smart Cookie scrambled away, before wrapping his jaws around the handle of the axe and twisting. Jade whimpered softly, but she didn’t appear to be recovering from shock. With a sharp tug, Halite ripped the greataxe from Jade’s wing and watched as the wound poured blood into the snow. Smart Cookie’s stomach churned as he saw the fragments of bone and muscle stick out of the gash in her wing, and with a sinking feeling he realized that if the blade had cut two inches deeper it would have severed the crest off entirely. Halite looked the axe over, as if admiring the art that Jade’s blood had created on the blade. “Funny things you learn by talking with a pegasus. It’s a shame Streak Wing couldn’t watch me cut the bitch apart. I wonder where he is now.” Just then, a cry of ringing metal pierced the sky from above. Halite and Smart Cookie looked up to see two specks separating from each other in flight as the air currents around them ripped the surrounding clouds and smoke to shreds. Halite smiled and nodded to the lighter of the two specks as it separated. “Speak of the devil. Looks like he’s having some fun up there with another pegasus. Commander Hurricane himself, maybe? If only.” Turning back to Smart Cookie, Halite lowered his axe to Jade’s neck. “Now, would you rather I cut out her heart or her throat?” “Stop right there, criminal scum!” Halite and Smart Cookie both snapped their heads to the side to see a dark silhouette standing on top of a mound of rubble. Actually, Smart Cookie was the only one to see it; Halite had to stumble backwards as no less than twenty bricks of onyx rubble were propelled in his direction. Smart Cookie rubbed his eyes and blinked in disbelief. That voice, and that hat. There was no way… “Heya, Smart Cookie! I hope you haven’t gotten yourself in too much trouble out here!” Chancellor Puddinghead moved with far too much spring in his step for how Smart Cookie was feeling. The brown stallion bent over and helped his companion up, a huge smile filling his face. That smile turned into disappointment as he looked at the smoldering remains of Onyx Ridge’s north wall. “Well, I guess it was too much to hope for. Seriously, I leave you for not even a day and you already tear down the wall to a huge fortress? Just think of the insurance costs!” “You…” Halite growled as he stood up, leaning on his axe to support himself. Several cuts from Puddinghead’s shower of rocks dripped blood onto his muzzle, which had already become a dark shade of crimson. “You! How dare you, you damn fool! You want to die too?!” Puddinghead cocked his head to the side as if it was a serious question. “Um… not really.” Shouting in rage, Halite charged at Puddinghead, his axe flying through the air towards the Chancellor’s head. Deft as could be, however, the Chancellor darted out of the way without so much as a care in the world. It didn’t faze Halite at all, and the warlord only continued to strike out at Puddinghead in a blind blood rage. His swings came in faster than Smart Cookie had ever seen, and each one carried enough force to cleave a mountain in two. Each one, however, missed Puddinghead by mere inches as the brown earth pony twisted and leaned around attacks. Smart Cookie blinked in amazement as he watched Halite’s frustrated attempts to cut Puddinghead apart. The Chancellor didn’t even have his eyes open! Quickly leaning in from one dodge, Puddinghead delivered two punches to Halite’s snout before hopping over another swing of the axe and sidestepping a second. His face was incredibly concentrated, and even though his eyes weren’t open, his ears flicked back and forth and his tail twitched with frightening continuity. It was like watching a circus act, and somehow Puddinghead continued to dodge his demise. Next to Smart Cookie, Jade moaned and her body finally went limp. The stallion’s heart stopped for a moment as he thought Jade had died on him, but he could hear her draw breaths when he placed his ear to her chest. He sighed and wiped the sweat and grime from his brow. She had just passed out. Hopefully she would wake up soon. Halite let out another frustrated howl as Puddinghead leaned back on his hind legs until his spine was only inches from the ground, his forelegs flapping on either side as Halite’s axe split the air above his chest apart. Springing back from the physically impossible action, Puddinghead slammed both forehooves down on Halite’s nose, adding more blood to the pool staining the snow around the warlord. The axe slipped down Halite’s grasp, but he managed to catch it and swing before he lost the weapon completely. This one looked sure to hit the overextended Chancellor square in the flank. Instead, Puddinghead leapt off of the ground with impressive vertical height before the axe could even reach him. But in place of jumping over the weapon entirely, Puddinghead landed square on the head of the axe. The handle of the weapon bent, and Halite shouted in dismay as the axe slipped out of his grasp and clattered to the ground. He tried reaching for the weapon, but a buck from Puddinghead sent him stumbling backwards. Now that he was disarmed, Halite channeled all his fury into his hooves and began to swing maddeningly at Puddinghead. This time, however, Puddinghead chose to stay and block each attack with frightening precision, delivering quick blows to Halite’s face and neck. The warlord’s gray coat became increasingly bruised and crimson; opposite him, the simple Chancellor had nothing but a single scratch along his left foreleg as the only wound Halite had inflicted upon him. Looking around, Smart Cookie saw Jade’s sword laying in the snow by her side. The mare had yet to recover from her shock, but her breathing was stable, so the Representative hobbled away on three limbs towards the partially buried sword. Picking it up and shaking the dirt and snow off of the blade, he turned back to the fight. Puddinghead was busy sliding around and between Halite’s attacks like a serpent, and striking back equally as fast. His eyes were still closed, and some supernatural sense guided his limbs and body around Halite’s infuriated blows. Sliding several feet to his left mere inches off of the ground, Puddinghead spun his entire body around twice on one hoof and delivered four kicks to Halite’s jaw. Raising on his hind legs, Smart Cookie flipped the sword around in his grasp until he was clutching onto the blade. Waiting for the two fighters to separate themselves, the Representative leaned back and hurled the weapon towards the warlord. Spitting the blood from his mouth, Smart Cookie managed to call out to Puddinghead just before the sword reached them. Hearing Smart Cookie’s warning, Puddinghead twisted and hopped over a desperate strike from Halite and rose into the air. In a single fluent motion, Puddinghead’s teeth located the handle of the sword as it spun end over end above Halite, and his body flipped in midair to swing it at the warlord’s neck. There was the unmistakable sound of metal tearing through flesh as well as a screech of pain, and Puddinghead landed behind Halite as blood spewed from the warlord’s lacerated neck. Taking one or two more steps, Halite slowly turned to face Puddinghead and Smart Cookie, disbelief plainly written in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and blood spurted from his neck with each exhalation. “Im… Impossible…” he managed to say. “I… No… Not… like this…” His front legs buckled under him, and the warlord collapsed face first into the snow and ice. The white powder quickly turned pink as it mixed with his crimson vitality, and Halite moaned slowly before the rest of his body collapsed with him. His eyes blinked twice and he stretched a foreleg towards Puddinghead. Then it fell, a dead weight to a dead body, and Halite’s once formidable reputation became as worthless to him as a grain of salt in the ocean. Puddinghead blinked and turned back to Smart Cookie, dropping the sword from his mouth as he did so. The Representative’s jaw was opened in shock, and he stared blankly at the dead body of Halite before rubbing his eyes and staring some more. Finally recovering the ability to speak, he rushed over to Puddinghead and began to shake him. “How?! How in the name of Celestis did you do that?!” Puddinghead giggled and tousled Smart Cookie’s mane. “I don’t know!” he answered with a happy chirp. “What do you mean you don’t know?!” Smart Cookie protested, shaking Puddinghead harder. “You dodged every single one of his attacks! You fought like you had been training your entire life! How does the lazy Chancellor I knew do that?!” Puddinghead shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me! I just had this little tickling in my tail, and it told me which way to move! I just listened to what it said, and the mean gray pony couldn’t hit me! I call it… Pudding Sense!” Smart Cookie exhaled and looked at Puddinghead in disbelief before laughing and embracing the brown stallion. “Chancellor, I don’t know how you did it, but you saved my hide! Not only mine, but Princess Jade’s as well! Why, if you hadn’t shown up…” Puddinghead blew it off with a wave of his hoof. “Meh, I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me, so I came back! That was pretty fun. Can we do it again?” The two earth ponies looked on at the burning husk of Onyx Ridge and the cries of war that still emanated from within. Turning to face Puddinghead, Smart Cookie rested a hoof across the Chancellor’s back. “Maybe next time, Puddinghead. Trust me, it wasn’t as fun as you would think.” Just then, Smart Cookie’s stomach growled, and Puddinghead began to smile. “Sounds like somepony is hungry. Hey, you wonder if the Crystal Ponies got any food in that crazy house of theirs?” Then the two laughed together and sat in the snow by Jade’s side. It was the first laugh Smart Cookie had ever shared in earnest with his superior. ----- “Hurricane! Hurricane, get up, sir! Streak Wing’s coming to!” Hurricane groaned as he felt the rubble shift around him, struggling to breathe after having the air forced from his lungs by Streak Wing’s body. As soon as he could manage a gasping breath, he grunted in pain, a terrible burn that sent lights dancing across his vision. Placing a hoof to his chest, Hurricane could feel no less than three broken ribs under his armor. Pan Sea was there next to him, a worried expression across his butter yellow face. Crawling to his hooves, Hurricane wheezed and checked the rest of his limbs. His legs were fine and his wings were surprisingly intact, even if he had completely ripped the wingblade assembly from his left crest. Pushing Pan Sea aside, he took uneven steps towards Streak Wing, who had managed to stand with the aid of his axe. One of his wings hung limply by his side, and blood trickled from his lips, but his eyes were just as full of hatred as they were before the fight. “Enough dancing!” Streak Wing shouted, spitting blood from between his chipped teeth as he did so. Readying his axe, he began to advance on Hurricane. “We finish this from the ground! Let’s see who’s stronger!” Hurricane snarled and broke into an uneven gallop towards Streak Wing, the Sword of Storms held high above his head. With a downward stroke, he hammered away at Streak Wing and the tattered remains of his armor. Streak Wing blocked with his axe, his jaw providing a fulcrum on the handle which he supported with alternating hooves depending on which side Hurricane swung at. With a shout, Streak Wing managed to catch Hurricane’s sword under the head of the axe and strike the Commander across the snout with the opposite end of his weapon. The blow forced Hurricane to stumble back and regroup while Streak Wing began to swing his axe at him. Hurricane knew his sword couldn’t support the weight of the greataxe, and so he was forced to hop from side to side and avoid the downward swings of the weapon. Taking a chance, Hurricane darted to the side of the hammering greataxe and jabbed at Streak Wing’s shoulder. The impact drew blood and caused the Legate to snort in pain, but the white pegasus countered by spinning his axe across his body and slamming it into Hurricane’s side, blade first. The impact was so harsh that it flung Hurricane across the clearing and knocked his sword from his grasp. The armor had surprisingly held firm against the strike, but it did little to soften the blow for Hurricane’s broken ribs. The pegasus slammed into the ground and slid several feet on his face into the smoldering remains of a siege tower. He shouted and stumbled away from the flames as the fire burnt off part of his coat on his face and obscuring his vision. He collapsed into the snow, letting the cold ice try and soothe the left side of his head. Streak Wing panted, his namesake limbs hanging from his sides, the blades decorated with blood. He raised his head and growled at Hurricane as the black pegasus struggled to stand. "Damn it, Hurricane!" he shouted. "Damn it all to hell! When I put you down, this time I'll make sure you stay down! Celeste or whichever god you struck a deal with won't be able to raise your corpse again to screw with the true Empire! I’ll split your wings from your body and let the rats feast on them! You weren’t worthy to be emperor! You’ll die today, and somepony with the guts to take back our home will lead Cirra!” Hurricane stood up from the snow and walked over to his sword, slowly picking the weapon up from the ground. “I wasn’t worthy to be emperor? What do you know about being an emperor? What do you know about making the difficult choices? What do you know about what I had to do just to ensure that we would survive?!” He galloped towards Streak Wing, sending his blade at him in a flurry of powerful strikes. Streak Wing struggled to keep up, backpedaling from the onslaught and trying to block each strike with the handle of his greataxe. After a particularly menacing clash, the two soldiers split apart several strides, and Streak Wing dipped into his Empatha to light his coat on fire. Taking a deep breath, Hurricane countered by drawing on his adrenaline and excitement. The power of a raging storm soon poured through his limbs, and the world seemed to slow around him. Streak Wing charged first, a blazing torch of Cirran fury boiling the ice and snow around him. The cumulostratus steel in Vindictam greedily took up the flames, and Hurricane found himself dodging a fiery greataxe. He could feel the tongues of flame licking at his chin as he leaned away from the blow. Spinning in midair, Hurricane launched himself behind Streak Wing faster than the eye could follow and struck at the Legate’s flank. The blade along his wing grazed across Streak Wing’s unprotected sides, but a flare of fire forced Hurricane to retreat and abandon the attack. Trying another tactic, Hurricane darted out of range of the blasts of fire Streak Wing began sending his way and aimed his hind legs at the traitor’s body. Consumed with blind Empatha rage, Streak Wing lowered his shoulder and began to charge straight at the Commander without caution. Taking a deep breath, Hurricane could feel sparks of electricity forcing the hairs of his bloodstained coat to stand on end. The world changed from red and orange to gray and white, and it seemed like it took hours for his hind legs to raise off of the ground. Streak Wing had all but frozen in place behind him, his limbs moving incredibly slow. Feeling his legs touch his flanks, Hurricane narrowed his eyes and kicked. The bolt of lightning summoned by his Empatha flew true, cutting jagged arcs out of the split skies as it connected with Streak Wing’s body. There was a huge blast of light and a resounding clap of thunder, and the traitor screamed in agony as the electricity paralyzed his limbs. Both ponies, shooter and target, collapsed to the ground at the same time. His breathing ragged and labored, Hurricane managed to clamber back to his hooves and begin to advance on Streak Wing. The sudden discharge of Empatha was extremely draining, but he could feel the energy returning to his limbs just like how the air returns to the sky after a lightning strike. In a few seconds he was feeling energetic again, and his perception of color returned to his eyes just enough to make out the red feathers along Streak Wing’s namesakes. The opposing Legate was slower to get up. His mane and tail were frazzled and smoldering and his breathing consisted of choking gasps, but he was still alive. The skysteel in his armor had absorbed a good portion of Hurricane’s lightning Empatha, but even the residual energy was enough to cripple his concentration and shut off his access to his own magic. Both ponies glared at each other, but only Hurricane’s eyes were devoid of doubt. Tightening his grip on the Sword of Storms, Hurricane quickly closed the distance to Streak Wing with his Empatha. The Legate could only stand and brace himself for Hurricane’s strikes. With each successive blow they became more and more powerful, and Hurricane began to leap into them and smash Streak Wing backwards. “I survived Hengstead! I am not weak!” Jab to the left, followed by an uppercut. The cry of steel on steel. “I burnt Azoeth to the ground! I am not soft!” Windmill strike on Vindictam from above. Sparks scattered into their eyes, blinding them. “I escaped the counterattack that destroyed my legion! I am not slow!” Pivot and buck to Streak Wing’s jaw, snarling. A scuffle of hooves as he was forced backwards. “I defended Nimbus from the Gryphon Horde! I am not useless!” Strike low at Streak Wing’s legs. The sound of flesh being ripped apart, as well as a cry of pain. “I fought Emperor Magnus one on one in the burning palace of Nimbus! I am not a coward!” Duck under Streak Wing’s desperate slash with his greataxe. Stab at his chest, drawing more blood. “I survived the eruption at Feathertop where three hundred-thousand died! I am not untested!” Hammer again at Streak Wing’s greataxe. An explosion of thunder and wind. “I killed Legate Red Tail and stopped his coup! I am not a traitor!” Feint with a wing, then pierce Streak Wing’s shoulder armor. Twist and elicit anguished shouting. “I wept as my hometown was destroyed, my father and mother slain because of my own lack of foresight! I am not heartless!” Dart out of range of Streak Wing’s axe, then lacerate his wing. Blood spatters the ground, turning white snow crimson. “I recognized defeat and led our nation across the sea to avoid our destruction! I am not blind!” With that, Hurricane turned and kicked Streak Wing in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards. Immediately following, he backflipped and brought his sword down on the Legate’s greataxe, which was raised over the traitor’s head in a feeble attempt to ward off the blow. It failed. A shockwave expanded outwards from the point of impact as the stratus charges in both weapons interacted. With a tremendous crack, the handle of Streak Wing’s greataxe completely shattered, exploding into thousands of tiny fragments. The two pieces fell out of Streak Wing’s grasp even as Hurricane’s sword continued its downwards approach. The black stallion inched it out a little farther on the way down, managing to catch the remains of the traitor’s breastplate. With the grinding of skysteel against onyx, Hurricane completely split the piece of armor in two and exposed Streak Wing’s chest. Landing on his forehooves, Hurricane brought his hind legs underneath him and struck out at the jaw of his opponent. Streak Wing was sent backwards into the snow and ice, his face and body trailing blood the entire way. He collided against a mound of rubble, gasping for breath. Hurricane walked over to Streak Wing and kneeled over him, holding his sword against the traitor’s neck. “My body is covered with the scars of a dying Empire, and its horrors will never leave my mind. You think I was not worthy to be Emperor? I, more than anypony else, was prepared to be the last emperor of Cirra!” Streak Wing spat at Hurricane’s face, grinding his teeth. “Kill me then, if you are so sure of yourself. Finish your traitors like Roamulus demanded his followers to do! Kill me now!” Hurricane took a deep breath and drew back his sword. “Do you remember your oath that you took so long ago? The oath that we all had to take? That you would stand by Cirra and her leaders until the day you died?” “Go to hell.” Hurricane shook his head and raised the sword. “You knew this was coming, Legate. It is in our creed. Ante Legionis nihil erat, et non erit Legionis. Before the Legion there was nothing, and after the Legion…” The blade rang out with vengeance dealt as it bored into Streak Wing’s throat. The Legate gasped once, twice, three times, then went limp as his head lolled to the side and was still. “After the Legion, there will be nothing.” Hurricane stood there, breathing quietly over Streak Wing’s body. The siege was still going on behind him, but he had blocked out all the shouts and the screams of death. The world had narrowed down to him, his sword, Streak Wing, and nothing else. It was over. The victory felt hollow. Pulling the sword out of Streak Wing’s neck, Hurricane set it on the ground and sat there, staring off into space. He had killed Streak Wing, so he should feel happy. He had done his job to Cirra, right? Streak Wing was a traitor, and for that, he needed to die. But something else clawed at him from within, and it had been since he had begun shouting his accomplishments back at the Legate. Why did he do that? Did he feel the need to justify his title as Emperor? Why? Pan Sea walked over to Hurricane from the side and brushed some of the blood off of Hurricane’s body. “You did it, Commander. He’s dead now.” Hurricane nodded and looked at the remains of the blade on his right wing. “Yes. He is.” Pan Sea looked up at Hurricane, puzzled. “What is it, sir? Is something wrong?” The Commander stood up and shook his head. He walked over to Streak Wing’s body and closed its eyes, spreading the white and red wings on either side of him. He looked up, and realized he was facing east. The direction of home. It was fitting that Streak Wing should die facing old Cirra. “I can only help but wonder at what he said,” Hurricane murmured, looking down at the Legate’s face. “Is it really my fault that the Empire died? Is it really my fault that we’re but a shell of what we once were?” Pan Sea was taken aback, and trotted up to Hurricane’s side. “No, Commander, it isn’t. You did what you had to do, sir. What more could anypony have done?” “I don’t know, Pansy. I don’t know.” He sighed and turned to face west, looking across the burning remains of Onyx Ridge. “I don’t know if we even deserve another land to run to. We fled once before, and nopony will ever forgive me for that. If we flee again, does that make us weak? Are we too weak to face the coming storm, Pansy? Will we only keep running whenever something bad threatens us?” “I can’t say, sir,” Pan Sea admitted. “What I do know is that you did what you had to do for Cirra to survive. There’s nothing wrong with that. Streak Wing wouldn’t have been able to save Cirra if he was emperor. Only you could do that.” Hurricane sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, maybe. I suppose.” Pan Sea placed a hoof on Hurricane’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong in running, Commander. Not if it means that it saves the lives of thousands, and the lives of unborn millions. Honor means nothing if there’s nopony left to appreciate it.” Hurricane was silent for a while before gently dipping his head. “You’re right. That’s sage advice, Pansy. Well.” He began to walk to the west, preening the blood out of his wings as he did so. “We should be going. The Crystal Ponies will be here shortly. I’d rather not get caught when I’m trying to get clean. Come on, the Narrow Strait isn’t much farther west of here.” Pan Sea nodded and set his hooves in a line after Hurricane. The fight was finally over, and now they could get back to what they were trying to do all along—to save Cirra. With luck, in a few days’ time, they’d be safe and at home again with their families. The setting sun beckoned them westward, with its sad, dying light, which the two pegasi followed without question. ----- “Ack! Augh… Diadem… are you okay?” Clover scrambled to the top of the onyx rubble littering the holding pens that until recently were home to a hundred miserable prisoners. Her head was ringing from the impact, and the blurriness to her vision was making it difficult to see. She coughed on some more onyx dust before looking around her again. “Diadem? Diadem, where are you?!” There was a small cough from behind her, and Clover turned to find Diadem’s aqua coat partially buried under rubble. Galloping over, Clover shoved aside the rocks with her Arcana and pulled the little filly out of the tomb of onyx. Diadem’s face and body were covered in several lacerations and scrapes from the fall, each one dripping precious blood. “Diadem!” she shouted, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. “Diadem, you’re bleeding!” The little filly coughed and smiled at Clover. “I am? Awesome! Now I’m a real warrior like my brother!” Looking over the mare’s body, Diadem’s grin became even wider. “Hey, so are you!” Giving herself a quick look over, Clover noticed several gashes and scars across her upper torso from the fall. The pain came along with the realization, and she gritted her teeth as she plucked several spidery splinters of onyx stone from her skin. “Yes, well, being bloodstained is not usually a good thing, Diadem.” Diadem didn’t seem to particularly notice or care. Instead, she looked at the half-destroyed remains of the western wall with a frown. “They broke my ballista.”  “I’m sure that Greenleaf will get another for you when you’re older,” Clover mused, moving out into the open and looking back up at the wall. She could see several small figures trying to scurry their way around the massive gash in the walkway and head south. Smiling, she raised a hoof and waved to them. “Clover!” Princess Platinum shouted from her perch on the western wall. “Thank the sun you’re alive! And Diadem, too!” Turning to Greenleaf, she tugged on the elder stallion’s foreleg. “Please, sir, we have to go down there and meet up with them.” Greenleaf shook his head and nudged her along. “We can’t do that, Platinum, it’s much too steep of a drop from here.” Turning to Clover and Diadem, he pointed towards the south. “We’re trying to get to the central tower along the southern wall! That should offer us a way out, and hopefully keep us away from the fighting! Meet up with us there, and we’ll open the tower for you once we get inside!” “I thought you said that the north gate was the only way out of this fortress?” Clover questioned. “It was the only feasible option at the time, in all honesty. We would have had to fight our way along an entire wall of Crystal barbarians just to get to the south tower, let alone fend them off long enough to get the ladder to the bottom set up! It would have been easier to just try and sneak out the front door disguised as purchased slaves or something, but as you can see…” he waved his hoof towards the north and the sounds of war and death coming from the raised gates, “trying to run headlong through a charging and packed army against the flow of traffic is something that I’d rather avoid.” Clover nodded and scooped up Diadem from the ground. “Right! We’ll make our way to the tower on hoof from here! Hopefully we won’t run into too much trouble!” “Watch out for any barbarians!” Greenleaf cautioned. “Sounds like the Union’s broken through the walls! Expect the survivors of Halite’s garrison to be in full retreat!” Dipping her head, Clover adjusted her shoulders for Diadem to sit more comfortably and began to gallop towards the southern edge of the camp, away from the chaos at the north. She soon left the prison block behind her and began to weave between streets and buildings as she crossed the center of the fortress. All around her was smoke and fire and ash. Row after row of wooden houses shed orange sheets of fire into the sky, giving the air an unsettling red glow. Large buildings had entire walls ripped off from catapult fire, and every few minutes the ground would shake as another finally collapsed to the stress along its wounded side. Clover grimaced as she ducked under a smoldering wooden beam lying across an alleyway. The Union sure had some powerful catapults. Panicked screams and shouting suddenly echoed across the charred walls of the block, and Clover pressed Diadem and herself against a building as several disheveled barbarians rushed by, their tails quite literally between their legs. “Run, ya damned bastards!” the lead one was shouting to his companions. “Regroup at th’ Castle! Maybe we can hold ‘em off there until that damned pegger gets back wit’ his comp’ny!” His companions all voiced their agreement, and then they disappeared around the corner. Finally daring to draw a breath, Clover stepped out from the wall and began to gallop after them towards the south, although not without checking each corner. Rounding another building, Clover nearly shrieked when she came face to face with three barbarians. Their armor was loosely hanging from its straps and their faces were covered in dirt and crystal blood. They were all panting, and their eyes were filled with primal fear that Clover had never seen from them before. She jumped and scrambled backwards before they could get any closer. “Damn it! What in th’ name o’ Tartarus are we stopped fir?” one of the barbarians near the back called out. Looking around his companion, the pony’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Gods be damned! It’s th’ bitch from th’ ballista, ain’t it?!” “One of them,” the pony standing in the front growled. “Cut her to ribbons and head for the south tower! We might be able to escape this onslaught yet!” Clover didn’t wait for him to start towards her. Ripping several barrels from a stack on the right with her Arcana, she turned tail and galloped in the opposite direction as the warriors behind her cursed and took after her in pursuit. She felt Diadem’s tiny hooves tighten around her neck as the little filly struggled to hold on at the breakneck speed Clover was running. She thought she was going to outdistance them when something sharp paralyzed her leg and toppled her to the ground, sending Diadem flailing ahead of her. Gritting her teeth and rolling onto her back, she saw a throwing spear pierced the entire way through her hind leg, the wound spurting blood along the grimy wood.  She turned around and looked across her shoulder to see Diadem climb to her hooves and shake the stars out of her head. “Run!” Clover screamed to the filly. She no longer cared about her own wellbeing, only that Diadem got away. “Run, Diadem, run!!” Instead of fleeing, however, Diadem stood her ground against the advancing Crystal Ponies, walking up to Clover’s side and gritting her teeth. The warriors all paused and looked at her, incredulous. “What, you gonna stand up to us three, little filly?” the lead barbarian taunted. Drawing a heavy war hammer, he began to advance of Diadem, bloodlust and menace filling his eyes. A wall of aqua light materialized just before him, and as his face broke the barrier he screeched in pain. The fur on his muzzle was smoking and the air began to reek of burnt hair, and he immediately fell to his knees and planted his singed muzzle into the snow. The other two barbarians stepped back and drew their weapons, eyeing Diadem warily. Clover looked up to see Diadem straining, her horn glowing and her teeth biting into her lip. The wall of light that the filly was creating stretched from side to side of the alley at a height much too tall to jump over. The surface of the wall rippled and pulsed, and a few crates caught within its range sparked and turned to charred wood. “Incredible…” Clover whispered, watching the barbarians back away. Diadem had erected a force field of pure mana that singed whatever it touched. Clover was absolutely stunned that the filly could pull off that taxing of a spell at such a young age. It had taken her until she was eighteen to be able to erect a wall of that size, and even then, Star Swirl had been able to probe it and find the weak points where the mana was unevenly distributed. Behind the shimmering and pulsing mass of Arcana, Clover could tell that Diadem had expertly divided out the mana to each portion of the wall to strike an even balance. “Rocks below,” one of the warriors muttered, “how did the little runt pull that off?” The lead stallion, the one who had burnt his muzzle, stood up and glared in Clover’s direction. “Give it a minute, boys, she’ll get tired soon enough. Horns always do.” Clover gulped and looked up to Diadem. The filly was straining and beginning to groan as she tried to keep the wall up. Her lip was bleeding as she bit harder and harder into it, and her hooves began to slide out from under her as she tried to brace herself against the snowy and slippery ground. Clover knew she could only keep it up for a few more seconds. Just then, several other Crystal Ponies burst around the corner and impaled the barbarians on their spears, driving the bodies into the wall where they hung. One of the ponies, who was wearing cyan armor, turned to look at Clover and Diadem before nodding and continuing down the road. When they all left, Diadem’s force field fizzled out, and the filly collapsed by Clover’s side. “You did good, Diadem,” Clover whispered as she nuzzled the filly’s side. The aqua pony managed to force a smile between pants before she laid her head back down on the icy ground. Then, Clover turned to address the issue of the spear in her leg. Bracing herself, her horn lit up as she enveloped one side of the weapon in a field of Arcana. Somehow, between screams and groans, Clover managed to force the weapon back out of her leg and tossed it aside on the ground next to her. Ripping a piece of cloth from the body of one of the fallen soldiers, she fashioned a makeshift tourniquet and bandaged the puncture wound as best she could. Then she climbed to her hooves and gingerly tested the injured leg. It stung when she put weight on it, but at least she could move the leg enough to walk. Leaning to the side, she was able to nudge Diadem up onto her shoulders and begin to limp towards the south again. The noise from the fighting had become even louder as the Union forced Halite’s warriors deeper into Onyx Ridge, pinning them around the castle. Clover only hoped that she could avoid any more confrontations with barbarians. Limping along, Clover made slow progress throughout the rest of the camp. It seemed like most of the barbarians had been cleared out until she came to the large clearing that surrounded the castle. The sight was horrifying. Thousands of Crystal Ponies were packed into the small flat area around the castle, hacking and bashing each other to pieces with their weapons. The area reeked of blood and death, and hundreds of crows and vultures circled low overhead. Bodies and limbs littered the ground, and Clover was almost certain that a river of blood two inches thick was pouring out from under the beleaguered warriors around the castle. Grinding her teeth together, Clover slogged through the pain in her leg as she trudged her way across. She muttered every prayer she could think of to the Gods as she stumbled around the kill zone, hoping that no barbarians would spot her or Diadem. There were several close calls as Halite’s warriors fled into the buildings around her, but none considered her important enough to waste time on. Not with trained and disciplined Union soldiers on their hooves. She wasn’t so lucky for long. As she was nearing the south tower, several Crystal barbarians ran into her as they tried to get into the building. The ponies tumbled across the ground, and as they climbed back to their hooves the barbarians turned their anger towards Clover and Diadem, who were feebly limping away. With a shout of rage, the barbarians lowered their weapons against Clover and charged. Before they could get far, however, several arcane bolts flew down from the walls and cut them to ribbons, one by one. Looking up, Clover was able to see the outlines of several unicorns along the southern wall. She coughed on the smoke and ash and nodded, stumbling towards the base of the tower. When she got there, the door opened up, and Platinum embraced her and Diadem. “Clover!” she called out, choking on sobs of joy. The two mares wrapped their forelegs around each other before Platinum pulled Clover in and closed the door behind her and Diadem. “I was so worried for you! I… when I saw those barbarians going after you…” Her voice trailed off as she saw the leg Clover was holding to the side. “You’re hurt.” She unwrapped the bandage and blanched at the ugly wound, which was still oozing blood. “It’s… nothing,” Clover lied, trying to scoot around Platinum. A huge ladder greeted her, at least several hundred rungs up to the top. She gulped and dipped her head, reaching for the first rung. A bluish haze overtook the world, and Clover started as her hooves left the ground. Next to her, Platinum’s horn was glowing, lifting Clover and Diadem off of the ground as she began to mount the ladder. “Nothing, my royal flank!” Platinum retorted as she slowly made progress on the ladder, one rung at a time. Sweat was already beading on her forehead, and her jaw trembled around each step of the ladder with effort, but she simply swallowed her duress and continued onwards. It took the better part of five minutes, but soon enough Platinum was able to get to the top of the ladder with Clover and Diadem safely in tow. Greenleaf leaned over the edge and was able to take their hooves and pull them onto the wall one by one. With a wheezy smile, the old unicorn patted each of them on the back as he guided them towards the opposite crenellations. “The boys found the ladder while Platinum was helping you up,” he began, pointing to where the former prisoners were beginning to turn and descend to freedom. Taking Diadem from Clover, he held the filly in his forelegs while he waited for the line to clear up. “Thanks,” Clover started, bowing to Greenleaf. “Thanks for everything. We wouldn’t have been able to escape without you.” Greenleaf chuckled and shook his head. “What are you talking about? I, Diadem, and every other prisoner here wouldn’t have been able to escape without your tenacity and determination, Clover, and your ferocity, Platinum. Taking the ballista and using it to get some payback on the barbarians was brilliant as well.” “Please, sir, you’re too kind,” Platinum interjected. “You could have gotten another pair of fresh unicorns to help you with this breakout. Surely we weren’t that important.” “You may not think so, but you sure as Tartarus were,” Greenleaf insisted. “Seeing the great Princess Platinum lead a breakout was inspiring and great for morale. Your presence provided the last push we needed to finally organize and break free. Plus,” he winked, “it was eye-opening to see the infallible Princess brought to her knees like the rest of us. No offense, your highness.” “Oh, none taken,” Platinum assured him. “I’ve learned a lot from this whole little… adventure.” “Then, Gods willing, you’ll be a leader someday that understands her subjects.” Turning back to the ladder, he offered the spot to Platinum with a hoof, who nodded and began to descend. Clover went to follow her, but Greenleaf stopped her with a hoof. His eyes told her that there was something he wanted to say, and he was trying to find the words to say it. “Yes, Greenleaf?” Clover politely prompted. The stallion swallowed hard and looked away. It was then that Clover noticed the tears forming in his eyes. “I’d never thought I’d see the day when I met you, Clover. You’ve grown so much… become such a beautiful mare.” Clover was taken aback, and she raised a defensive hoof. “I… what do you mean?” Her soft spoken words seemed to hit Greenleaf like a crushing blow to his chest. He shuffled a step closer to Clover, his shoulders tense. “I’ve waited for so long… I didn’t think I would ever get to see you.” He looked at Clover, and it was then that she saw the color of his eyes behind his tears. Purple. The same color as her own. “Oh… Sun and Stars…” she whispered before collapsing into Greenleaf’s outstretched forelegs. “Father! Father, I—I can’t believe it! I didn’t think I’d ever… I didn’t think you’d…” Greenleaf ran a hoof through Clover’s mane and gently hushed his daughter. “It’s okay, Clover. It’s okay. Shush.” Placing his hoof under her chin, he raised her face to his and smiled. “I waited my entire life for this moment, waiting for the chance to get to see my daughter again. These last few years, I was beginning to give up hope. But I didn’t. Now you’re here, with me, together at last.” It was as if the whole world dropped away from them, leaving just Clover and her father alone on the wall of a forgotten fortress in a forgotten time. They nuzzled each other, not wanting to separate from the embrace that held them together. Time itself had stopped, just for them, just for a father and daughter reunited after nearly twenty years. “I never knew what happened to you the night mama died,” Clover sobbed into her father’s shoulder. “I was so young, but I remember. You left, and you never came back. I… I thought you abandoned me.” Greenleaf kissed his daughter’s forehead and pressed his horn against hers. “I would never have done that to you, Clover. Not once in a million years would I have willingly subjected you to that sort of loneliness.” Sighing, he drew Clover closer to him and looked towards the east. “The night your mother died, I couldn’t stand to be in that house. I could still smell the sickness in the air, but I could also smell her perfumes. Cheap stuff that we could barely afford with the wages the Crown gave us, but she made it hers, wholly and entirely. I could never imagine her smelling any other way.” Clover closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Sure enough, somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that scent, one of the only things she had left of her mother. It made her smile, if only faintly. Greenleaf held Clover’s head against his chest and drew his breaths softly. “I went out to get some air that night and to think about what happened. I walked around the city walls, and then I went further into the valley. Somewhere along the way I got ambushed by several Crystal barbarians. They were part of one of Halite’s marauders operating throughout the Diamond Kingdom. They took me captive and began to haul me back to their camp. I was stupid. I should have stayed home with you. I didn’t stop to think how you were feeling after your mother died. By the Sun, you must have only been three or four.” “It’s okay, dad,” Clover whispered, trying to soothe her father. She was feeling sad just because he felt so distraught, but she left him the time to vent. “They took me west… I don’t know where to, exactly, but I imagine it was on the way to Onyx Ridge. Before they could get far, though, they were slaughtered by a company of Jade’s Union. Of course, then it was still run by her father, but she was there too. Anyway, they took me in and patched me up. Then they asked if I would consider helping them out. Be a spy for them, basically. Help to set up ambushes on Halite’s supply wagons. I wanted to go home and see you, but you don’t just say ‘no’ to the ponies who saved your life. “I must have helped them for… I don’t know, a year or so. I kept pressing to come home, but Jade’s father thought I was too valuable of an asset to lose. Funny thing about him, he was a visionary and a revolutionary, but he was definitely a hard-ass when it came to losing something valuable to his cause. So I stayed on for another few years. By that point, I had no idea if you were even still alive, or if you even wanted me back home. “When Jade’s father died, I was all set to head back to River Rock, but Jade asked me to do one last mission and scout the mountains for Halite’s armies, and see if we could cut off their retreat with whatever forces she had left. I reluctantly agreed, and it was a horrible mistake. “When I got captured, Halite himself beat and tortured me before dragging me all the way back to Onyx Ridge. I got locked up in a cell and left to rot. I sat there for five years, with the void poisoning rotting my horn away to nothingness. I would never have seen the light of day again… but then you came to me.” The older stallion sadly smiled and shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it was you, after so long. But I knew those eyes, and I knew it was indeed you from that first moment. I’ve been waiting for so long just to tell you that I’m sorry. Sorry for not being with you when you needed me most, sorry that I couldn’t go back to see you, sorry for everything. I’m so sorry.” Clover kissed her father’s cheek and leaned against him, humming. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything, dad. We’re together again. That’s all that matters.” They embraced each other again, harder than before, when one of the prisoners raised his head above the crenellations. “You two coming or what?” Greenleaf turned towards his daughter as they separated from their embrace and smiled. “I guess we should be going. Come on now, the Union is going to be showing up in a few minutes. I don’t feel any need to see them anymore.” They shared a smile and began to descend the ladder, feeling elated and joyous, just as the banner on the onyx castle toppled and a cyan standard was raised in its place. > Chapter 12: The Narrow Strait > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 12: The Narrow Strait Twilight yawned and set the journal aside, making doubly sure that it was safely nestled within her saddlebag. The fire had died down to but a few sparks, and she was starting to feel some of the Stalliongrad cold creep its way into the building. It tickled her mane and pricked at her hooves, and her leg involuntarily twitched to shake off the chill. Rising from her seat, Twilight sighed as her joints popped and cracked. Slowly trotting over to the hearth, the unicorn sat down and began to poke at the logs, trying to stir up the embers and force the armies of winter into a hasty retreat. As she did so, a quill dropped on her hooves. She examined it for a second before her tired mind realized that she had released it from her Arcana to jostle the logs. The blue feather that Rainbow Dash had offered her had already been worn to a rounded and blunt point, and with a grumble, Twilight tossed it into the fire. She would have to ask the pegasus for another quill tomorrow. If only she had her own wings, then she could pull quills from them whenever she wanted. She stifled another yawn and glanced to her right, where Rainbow Dash lay curled up in a colorful ball on top of her winter coat and jacket. The pegasus was breathing quietly, her wings twitching slightly with her dreams. At least she had recovered from her hypothermia and was sleeping peacefully. Twilight knew she would never have forgiven herself if something bad had happened to her companion. With the fire now flared up to a comfortable warmth, the lavender mare smiled softly and spread out her own coat and jackets before the fire as a makeshift bedroll. Judging by the stack of notes she had taken while poring over the last two chapters of Hurricane’s journal, she had probably been up for four or five hours after Rainbow had given in to sleep. At least she wasn’t planning on heading south again for another day. This little cabin in the middle of nowhere had saved her life, and she wasn’t ready to leave it behind just yet. Twilight was snoring before she knew it. She also didn’t remember what woke her up barely an hour later. Her nerves were frayed and the dim glow of the crackling fire was a blinding shear of light. The simple wooden room blurred and swam across her eyes, and she placed a hoof against her head to try and pound out the sleepiness. Leaning against the wall, Twilight took a deep breath and listened. The cabin was quiet and still. The only movement was the dancing of the shadows against the opposite wall from the crackling fire. There were only three distinct sounds: the fire, Rainbow’s quiet snoring, and Twilight’s own heartbeat as she tried to swallow her heart. She must have stood like that for five minutes before taking a breath and moving back to her original spot by the fire. “It’s okay, Twilight,” she muttered to herself. “You’re just paranoid and worried that you’re going to get a sickle driven through your neck. There’s nothing wrong. Statistically speaking, seventeen out of every eighteen ponies would be scared if they were in your position.” Having calmed herself with the infallible force that was logic-based reasoning, Twilight sighed and lay down on her jackets. Good old logic. It always held the answer to every problem. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to have an answer Twilight would have liked to hear when she heard growling outside of the cabin door. Twilight locked up stiff as a board. There was definitely a continuous growl from the door to the cabin, along with what sounded like a snuffling sound. Gently pushing aside the covers with trembling hooves, Twilight scooted over to Rainbow Dash and shook her. “Nnnnooooo… Five more minutes, Papa, please… mmmm, maybe fifteen.” “Rainbow Dash!” Twilight hissed, recoiling from the noise of her own voice. The growling at the door had stopped, but the unicorn had a distinct feeling that it wasn’t gone. “Rainbow Dash, get up! I… I don’t think we’re safe here.” “Twilight?” Rainbow Dash rose and rubbed her bleary eyes with heavy hooves. “Can’t you let a mare sleep? What is it, four in the morning?” Twilight held a hoof in front of her muzzle and shushed the pegasus. She pointed with her horn to the door, where the growling had resumed at a lower pitch. “Get your gear, Rainbow.” The pegasus gave a curt nod and began to prowl about the room, her wings flexing and arching above her back and by her sides in preparation for flight. “What are those? Diamond dogs?” She laughed slightly as she put her saddlebag together. “If only we had Rarity here to deal with them.” “I don’t think they’re diamond dogs,” Twilight muttered as she carefully placed her saddlebag on her flank. “If they’re not diamond dogs, then what are they?” With a snarling bark and growl, the door to the shack was shorn from its hinges and flung aside. In its place stood the largest animal Twilight had ever seen, aside from a dragon. The figure stood on its short hind legs as it gripped onto the sides of the doorframe with arms as large as a pony. Powerful muscles rippled under a patchy coat of short black fur and white scars. The wood creaked in agony as its canine claws crushed the doorframe, and its drooling jaws snapped with anticipation of a meal. Bloodshot eyes leered at Twilight as she stood frozen in place. The eye contact lasted only a second before the massive canine charged through the door, its claws ripping chunks of wood out of the hall. Twilight squeezed her eyes shut and dove to the side, slamming her skull against the cabinet but managing to hop away from the gnashing teeth of the beast. The dog snarled and turned, but before it could charge again at Twilight, a blue blur swooped through the air and kicked the brute to the ground. “Hah!” Rainbow whooped, spinning away from the downed animal. “How do you like that, you hairy mutt? Next time pick on someone your own—!” Rainbow’s words were cut off as the dog whipped its arm from the ground and enveloped her entire body in one hairy paw. With a ferocious roar, the canine flung Rainbow Dash against the wall. The wood cracked, but the pegasus didn’t stop there. With a cry of pain, Rainbow was sent completely through the wall and into the snows beyond. “Rainbow!” Twilight shouted, peering through the suddenly opened hole in the wall. She could see the powder blue coat of her friend rolling through the snow in the darkness outside of the shack. Behind her, the canine scrambled to his feet and barked at Twilight before beginning to lunge at her. The unicorn’s face tensed in concentration, and a barrage of purple bolts of Arcana scattered across the dog’s coat, burning patches of fur from its skin. The canine yipped and fell to the ground, writhing in pain, while Twilight sprinted through the gap in the shed to Rainbow’s side. “Nnngh…” Rainbow groaned, clutching her side in pain. “I’ve always been more of a cat person anyway…” As Twilight helped Rainbow up, a chorus of low howls reflected off of the moon and the silver night skies. The two ponies clutched each other as the calls rose in pitch before dying off, one by one. “Are you hurt?” Twilight whispered to Rainbow. The pegasus grunted and stretched each of her limbs one by one, pausing on her left foreleg. “M-my leg…” She tried to stretch the leg again but winced and ground her teeth against each other. “Sprained… I’ve had worse.” “I’ll look at it when we get to safety,” Twilight assured her. “But right now, we have to move. Can you walk?” Rainbow Dash nodded and began to limp away, even as she bared her teeth in pain with each step on her left foreleg. Twilight tried to support Rainbow’s shoulder, but the pegasus nudged her away with the crest of her wing, determined to walk on her own. The two ponies only made about fifty feet of distance from the cabin before the first of several pairs of yellow eyes appeared in the darkness ahead of them. The growling soon followed, and Twilight could hear the shuffling of snow all around them just outside of her sight. With a simple spell, a bright purple manalight appeared above her head and illuminated the hilltop. No less than fifteen canines of varying size hissed and whimpered as they threw their meaty arms in front of their eyes. They all resembled the lumbering beast Twilight had incapacitated inside the cabin, from the patchy and scarred coats to the long, yellow fangs that were too large to hide behind split lips. The fur around their claws and teeth was the color of dried blood. As the dogs began to recover from the flare Twilight had created, she channeled another spell into her horn. With a distinct pop and the slight caress of nausea, both ponies found themselves outside the pack of diamond dogs. Shaking off the aftereffects of the teleportation spell, Twilight nudged Rainbow away from the dogs and tried to help her move as fast as possible. A howl of rage split the night, and the pack of canines turned as one to bear down on the two ponies. Snow and ice were torn from the ground and kicked into the air like a dust cloud following a stampede in the desert. The wind caught the ice and scattered it into the sky, obscuring the dogs for but a second. A shout of exertion rose to challenge the howling of the pack, and the entire stretch of frozen tundra between Twilight and the diamond dogs rippled and bucked skyward. The explosion of ice launched the pack into the air, where they yipped in terror before slamming into the ground. The cracking of bones was picked up by the wind and propelled across the surrounding countryside, and Rainbow Dash pressed her ears flat against her head to block out the noise. “Way to go, Twilight!” Rainbow cheered while holding her foreleg against her chest. “That sure showed them!” The lavender mare moved to dip her head, but the small action turned into a face plant in the snow. Twilight groaned and rubbed her eyes to clear the stars. “Heh… Did everypony see that? Because I am not doing it again.” Rainbow Dash knelt down next to Twilight and struggled to pick her up with one hoof. “Come on, Twilight. Don’t make me have to worry about you not being able to walk now.” “Give me a minute, Rainbow,” Twilight pleaded as she massaged her temples. Furrowing her brow, the unicorn looked off in the direction of the churned earth and bit her chapped lip. “Umm… Is it just me, or is it awfully quiet?” Rainbow gulped and ushered Twilight to her hooves. She could see several bodies, crippled and dead, but the rest of the pack was nowhere to be seen. “Maybe we scared them off.” “Wishful thinking on your part.” Both ponies turned towards the masculine voice as he emerged from the settling snow. The brown unicorn held a sword in his magical grip and trotted over to the nearest twitching canine. With a small grunt, he impaled the beast’s neck, eliciting a small cry of pain alongside a wheeze. Twilight squinted at the figure before her jaw dropped. “Haven?” Sheathing his sword, Safe Haven smiled and cantered towards the two Equestrians. “Privet, Twilight. Miss Dash.” Rainbow groaned and smacked her head with her good hoof. “Celestia… that sounds so lame…” “I don’t get it,” Twilight began, looking over Haven’s bloodstained winter coat. “I thought you were still back in Saraneighvo? And just what in the hay happened back there anyway?!” Haven laughed and passed Twilight a canteen of water, which she took several sips from. “I was in Saraneighvo until just recently. I do apologize if my service was not up to Canterlot standards, but war is war.” “Wait, you’re with the rebels?” “For what other reason would I leap over the bar to drive my sword into a Black Cloak’s shoulders?” “I thought…” Twilight trailed off. “I don’t know what I thought. It all happened so fast.” “I’ll give you the quick version, but then we have to go,” Haven said. “Those three ponies who walked into the bar? They were the rebel leaders in Saraneighvo. They were planning the whole revolt for months, and that just happened to be the night it was set to go off. Unfortunately, Miss Dash brought the Black Cloaks to us in her drunken stupor.” “It was some pretty good vodka…” Rainbow Dash muttered to herself. Haven rolled his eyes. “Black Cloaks already have a poor enough tolerance for crime as it is. Marshall Serp goes insane whenever he sees a rebel. The moment he walked in, I knew it was a bloodbath waiting to happen.” Levitating his sword from its sheath with his magic, Haven showed off the series of notches in the iron of the blade. “The Marshall’s got a few of his own on his beloved sickle. At least there were too many of us for him to deal with before he could rip my throat out with it.” “Great, so I’m now consorting with outlaws?” Twilight half-joked, half-accused. “If there were so many of you, how come you’re not in Saraneighvo?” “The Commandant of the Black Cloaks showed up, that’s why,” Safe Haven responded. “Came all the way from Stalliongrad itself with his other lackey, Marshall Molot. Our hold on the city was shaky enough as it was after the first night. The Commandant’s soldierly prowess is enough to turn that tide on his own. I’ve heard the bastard’s had training from the captain of Canterlot’s Honor Guard.” Twilight wanted to ask more questions, but a distant howl stopped her. Haven glanced in its direction and frowned. “We need to move. They may have fled with their tails between their legs but they’ll be back soon enough. Killing some of the pack just makes the rest angrier.” With a curt nod, he began to walk away to the west. “Um… Haven? Stalliongrad is to the south.” The stallion paused before shaking his head and continuing onwards. “I know.” With no other option, Twilight and Rainbow shrugged and limped after him, each trying to clutch their jackets against their coats in defiance of the shrill winds. ----- Commander Hurricane and Pan Sea marched on towards the west, chasing the setting sun as it disappeared across glacial tundra. They had left the ruins of Onyx Ridge far behind them, and the smoke was just an inky black splotch against an indifferent gray sky. At least the storm had lessened the farther west they had travelled. Hurricane grunted as he climbed over yet another series of craggy hills. His chest was killing him, and each breath was only another spear in his gut as his lungs expanded and contracted around the splintery ends of his broken ribs. With an annoyed breath, the Commander pulled his dragging wings up to his sides again, where they immediately began to droop. The two lines on either side of him extended for at least a quarter mile into the distance. “Are you okay, sir?” Pan Sea asked as he approached Hurricane. “It’s your chest again, isn’t it?” “’S’nothing,” Hurricane groaned, trying to shake the ache out of his chest. He regretted the action a second later when his diaphragm cried out in protest, leaving the stallion gasping for breath. “With all due respect, sir,” Pan Sea began, “It is something. Broken ribs are always a pain—no pun intended—when you’re trying to travel. You can’t fly, you can hardly walk, and you can’t fight.” “And what would you have me do about it?” Hurricane growled. “Sit and wait until it gets better? We’re on a short timetable, Pansy. The longer it takes for us to cross the Narrow Strait, the longer Cirra starves. I will not lose my nation through inaction.” Hurricane pushed off of Pan Sea with a wing and began to walk again, despite the Legionnaire’s protests. “Commander, it’s gotten worse since the fight, that much I can tell! If you don’t stop to rest… you might never fly again.” The black pegasus halted before lowering his head. “I don’t care if I never fly again. What good is it to fly when my family is dead? I have my priorities, private, and I’ll die before I see them failed.” Pan Sea stared in exasperation before cursing and trotting after his commander. “Damn it, sir, I’m just trying to look out for you!” “I understand that,” Hurricane spat back, “And I don’t give a griffon’s ass. We move, or Cirra dies. It’s as simple as that. I intend to keep moving.” “At least promise me that you’ll refrain from straining yourself.” Hurricane rolled his eyes. “I can’t promise you anything, Pansy, but I’ll give it my best if that’s what it takes to make you shut up for once.” Somewhat satisfied, the yellow pegasus was content to nod and trot after Hurricane at a several pace distance. After several more miles of slow and agonized walking, Hurricane and Pan Sea finally found themselves at the edge of the Narrow Strait. Instead of finding a sea like the maps predicted, however, they only found an icy waste stretching from one landmass to another. “The storm must be really powerful if it’s pushing glaciers this far out,” Hurricane muttered. “At least it makes it easier for us to cross, sir. You know, since you can’t fly and all.” “Humph. That much is true,” Hurricane conceded. “Still, I’m alarmed it’s spread this far. What is it, a three days’ flight back to Cloudsdale from here? If this goes on for much farther… The Exodus was bad enough. I do not want to relive that again.” Pan Sea involuntarily shuddered at the horrible memory. Even twenty years past and the flight still haunted him. The tattered remains of a broken empire… Hurricane was already walking on without him, and the private shook the thoughts out of his head before trotting to catch up. “But it doesn’t.” “And just how can you tell, Pansy? All I see is the glare of ice for miles.” “Because if the storm was raging on the other side of the Strait, wouldn’t it produce its own glaciers that just stack up in the middle? I don’t see a ridge of ice or anything, and listen.” Hurricane paused with one hoof in the air and flicked his ears about. Sure enough, he could hear the popping and heaving of thousands of tons of ice crawling across the ground. From there it covered the Narrow Strait until it began to brush against the opposite shoreline. In the air, he could also hear the calls of seagulls. “Birds? I thought they all fled from the storm or perished with the cold. You’re right, Pansy, we must be getting close now.” With careful hoofsteps and wings splayed open for balance, the two pegasi slid down an icy slope and clattered their hooves onto the glacier below them. The sounds of hoof against solid ice was one they had not heard for a long time; almost the entirety of Compact lands were coated in snow, not thick ice. Still, the translucent surface did not give way, and after a few moments struggling for balance the Cirrans began to march across it. The experience could be equated to walking across the desert, except much worse. Howling winds deafened the two, and snowdrifts stung their face and eyes. The air was devoid of any humidity whatsoever, and Hurricane’s hooves slipped several times on the ice. One time he tripped and fell on his side, incapacitating him while he fought to clear the various shades of red from his vision. “Ungh… How I wish Swift was here.” As the black pegasus began to move again, his thoughts drifted to his wife and his children. What were they doing? How did Cirra fair? Hopefully it was doing alright. He knew his family was competent enough to run the nation, but they had no means of saving it. That was his job, and his job alone. Still, what he wouldn’t give to curl up next to that blonde coat one more time… “Hurricane!” Hurricane snapped back to the present and managed to stop himself before he stepped off the abrupt edge of the glacier. He turned around and sat on his flank, looking at the ice stretching off behind him. The opposite shoreline was but a distant smear of white against a lighter blue and gray. Had he really gone that far already? With Pan Sea arriving by his side, the two pegasi faced west. What Hurricane saw stole his words and his breath. Green. So much green. Verdant fields, rolling hills, blue skies and a yellow sun. It was life made into the Earth, and it was beautiful. Hurricane couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such a healthy shade of green. He looked down at the fifty foot drop from the edge of the glacier and whistled. That little crevice was the dividing line between an old land and a new; a dead land and a fresh one. “Thank you, Mobius, for bringing us to green hills and blue skies,” Hurricane prayed. “May we find peace and abundance with your all-seeing eyes and your fleet wings.” With a deep breath, he crossed the threshold to life. ----- It was a solemn kind of quiet that filled the air as Smart Cookie and Chancellor Puddinghead supported Jade as she walked through Onyx Ridge. The screams of war and death were now in the distant past. What took its place was only a calm melancholy as the Union soldiers sifted through the remains of buildings, doused fires, treated the wounded and buried their friends. There had been cheering—at one point. Jubilation, shouting, laughter. Hugging, hoof-bumping, singing, dancing. Soon enough there would be drinking and gambling if the officers were kind enough. But not now. Now, the army only watched as their commander threaded her way between them, supported on either side by foreign ponies. Jade’s beautiful green coat had lost some of its luster under streaks of blood and dirt, and her limbs trembled with every step. She had barely recovered from her body going into shock, and now she was forcing it to march on again so soon. Her wings—her good wing—was loosely coiled at her side, while the wounded one dragged across the ground, despite how much Smart Cookie tried to keep the appendage draped over his back. Crystal blood from the split crest soaked his shoulders, but he didn’t care. Despite that, the mare’s eyes were bright. Not with the fire of bloodlust or anger, but the soft twinkle of pride. Pride not for herself, but for every one of her soldiers. From the siege engineers to the swordsponies to the archers to even the nurses and medics, she gave them all her undivided praise. They noticed it, and their smiles, no matter how small, reflected some back. Two Crystal Ponies approached Jade, stopping before her, each covered in blood. Their eyes widened in shock when they saw the condition she was in, and both only gave the shortest of salutes before rushing to her sides. “Commander…” “It is nothing, generals,” Jade spoke to them. Her voice was loud, clear, and confident. Smart Cookie couldn’t find the slightest trace of pain in it, even though he could feel her wing periodically spasm on his back. With an imperceptible nod, she signaled the two generals to step aside and let her through. They complied without question. There were steps in front of her, and the powerful alicorn stopped to collect her breath before trying to mount them. Smart Cookie and Puddinghead were the only ones near her sides as she did so, and so only they could hear the gasps and moans of pain as she ascended. Jade glanced to both her earth pony companions and shook her head, silently asking them to let her go on alone. They both dipped their heads and stepped back several paces. When Jade finally came to a stop, she was in the center of the courtyard that had served as the last stand for Halite’s garrison. The ground was slick with blood, and the colts had yet to clear away all the bodies. Smart Cookie shuddered as he saw several off to the side. So much death. He hoped he would never have to hear the final death toll that Jade’s dream had cost her. “Brothers…” Jade began, letting the single word hang in the air. “I never asked you to do this for me. I never wanted to lead any of you to the blade. It wasn’t my place to do so. But… you did. You did it anyways. I… I honestly don’t know how to thank you. Mere words are not enough. They will never be enough. The dead don’t need words, they need somepony to remember them. “Fifteen years ago… fifteen long, agonizing, bloody years ago… my father dreamt of a time when the Crystal Ponies could live in peace. The elders called him a dreamer; the warlords called him a weakling. He wisely admitted to one and rejected the other. Dreams shape the world, not the other way around. Dreams make the pony. They certainly made my father. From just a couple of ponies tired of belittling themselves and dreaming of a greater life for our race, to the army that stood and fought and died today, we all gave ourselves unto this dream of unity. Not in part, but with every last drop of sweat and blood we could possibly give. Because that was what was right. “I look east, and I see three races, disparate, weak, and filled with hate, and I pity them. Their wars bring unnecessary death and wanton destruction. They don’t need to fight, but they do anyways. Were that they could all gather here and watch what we all gave just so that we could have the opportunity to stand together. I believe they could have learned so much from us.” Smart Cookie shuddered and looked at his hooves. He could feel the eyes of the soldiers glance towards him and Puddinghead, but they were not there long. “In the end, that dream is not something that I can give to them. Unity is something they must find in themselves, not for me to share with them. I would not ask you to follow me were I to do so anyways. It isn’t your place. It isn’t mine either. But I know that one day, maybe on a day just like this, they will find peace with each other. The warlords believed that peace is the absence of war. I believe that war is the absence of peace. Representative Smart Cookie, Chancellor Puddinghead, you would do well to remember this and counsel your larger and more militant neighbors.” The two earth ponies dipped their heads and stood tall, letting Jade’s praise shine through them. Jade smiled, then began to walk in a slow circle to see all her soldiers. “This fortress… this ground… this dream has seen so much death and bloodshed today. Far more than there should ever be. I always heard talks in camp about how we would turn this place into a monument of our victory when we were done. How we would hallow this ground as a symbol of Crystal unity. I can assure you that today, you did. It was not I who did this. It was the brave ponies, living and dead, who struggled here, that have consecrated this land, far above my poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what I say here, but it can never forget what you did here.  And I would not have it any other way. The dead are the true heroes. Although my name will be forever attached to this spot, remember them over me. It would be wrong to do otherwise.” Jade sighed and looked to her left wing, where blood still slowly trickled from the open wound. “We all paid a price here today. Some of us, it was a mere scratch. Others, it was a limb, a sense. For too many, it was a life. It should make sense that those who gave the most receive the highest honor. But they would not want us to drag our hooves over them. The time has come to set about finishing our dream of unity. We may have removed the jams in the machinery, swept the rocks from the gears, but we still have work to do. Now, for the first time in history, the Crystal Ponies will have a nation. We must decide who shall rule that nation.” It didn’t take long before several Crystal soldiers stepped forward and bowed to Jade. Drawing their swords, each lay the length of their blade at the mare’s hooves and backed up, leaning low to the ground. A low cry began to fill the fortress, starting softly but soon being taken up by the entire army present. The chant rang out over and over again, until it was the only thing Smart Cookie could hear: “Queen of the North! Queen of the North! Queen of the North!” Jade looked on at all her soldiers with tears in her eyes. She looked like she wanted to stop them, but knew that she couldn’t. It was the one thing that she hoped she never would have had to hear, but she knew that nopony else could take the title for her. Raising a muddy hoof to the sky, she quieted the chant, but not the enthusiasm. “I could never ask for such a title, but I could not turn you down either. You have done so much for me… If it is I you want to lead you, then very well. I will try my best. If I fail you, feel free to have my head and my wings. You have given so much for me, and it is the least I can give back.” With a sad smile, Jade spread her good wing across her chest and bowed to her soldiers. “Now up! There is much to be done! In but a few days’ time, we move north again and return home! I don’t believe I have to remind you that your families await you!” With a loud cheer and the stomping of hooves against the muddy ice, the Union soldiers dispersed and set about picking Onyx Ridge clean of food, weapons, corpses and stragglers. As they all left, Jade slowly stumbled down from her podium and approached Smart Cookie and Puddinghead. “That was a beautiful speech, my lady,” Smart Cookie offered, bowing low. He was raised with a gentle hoof under his chin. “I am no lady,” Jade scoffed, smiling slightly. “Just an icon. Royalty and nobility is not for me, but if it suits my soldiers—my new subjects—then I will put up with it. Still, it will be something else to be called Queen of the North instead of simply Commander.” “You deserve it.” “Yeah!” Puddinghead enthusiastically offered, his limbs trembling as he fought the urge to bounce in place. “I didn’t think you were a cool pony before, but now I see differently. It takes guts to do what you did and be willing to give your life for a cause. I don’t have those kind of guts—I know, shocking—but I admire you for it. Perhaps I can learn a thing or two about myself from all this.” Jade laughed and pushed a sweaty lock of her mane from her face. “I think you might. There’s always something to learn.” Turning to Smart Cookie, she leaned downwards slightly. “What about you, Representative? Did you find out if you are truly a good pony?” Smart Cookie released a breath and looked away. “No. I’m not.” Jade and Puddinghead both looked taken aback. “Did I fight for what was right?” Smart Cookie asked. “Yes, I did. Was I willing to give my life for that? I guess. I’m not a good soldier, but I tried. But I don’t have that drive like your soldiers do, Jade. It wasn’t my cause I was fighting for. I still don’t have one of my own. Until then? Maybe then I’ll call myself a good pony.” Jade walked over and draped her good wing across the Representative’s orange back. “You are a good pony, Smart Cookie. It doesn’t take a cause or a dream or death to make you one. It simply takes a heart in the right place. And though sometimes you may feel lost or confused, I know that your heart is in the right place. Nothing can change that. Nothing.” She quickly drew her wing away from the Representative’s back and knelt down in front of him, bringing the two to eye level. “You’ll find it one day, Representative. You’re closer than you think.” Puddinghead waited several seconds before shifting his weight. “Hey, Jade, do you think you have any supplies you can spare? The Representative and I need to get going west really soon. I hope to do that by tomorrow morning.” The mare stood up and pointed with her horn to the castle. “Head there, Chancellor. You’ll find our requisitions officer organizing Onyx Ridge’s spoils. I’m sure he can find something for you.” The Chancellor nodded and began to trot away. Smart Cookie looked after him and grabbed his hat. “I should probably go too—” He was cut off as Jade stayed him with a wing. She bent her long neck down to the Representative’s eye level and smiled. Smart Cookie blinked as he felt her warm breath on his cheek and neck. They were only inches away. “Thank you, Smart Cookie,” Jade whispered in his ear. “Thank you for everything.” It wasn’t a kiss, but the nuzzle she gave him was more than Smart Cookie had ever dreamt of. ----- Clover pulled down her hood as she and Platinum braved the winds on the rocky plains to the west of Onyx Ridge. Behind them, Greenleaf and Diadem walked with all the prisoners who escaped from Halite’s fortress. The train of haggard ponies formed a snaking line through the snow and ice, but the warmth of hope pervaded the group. For many, it was the first time they had left Onyx Ridge in months. After several hours of walking, the two lead unicorns spread out their robes underneath them and sat on the frigid snow. From there, they were able to admire the setting sun as it shed its sad, orange light through a gap underneath the gray clouds. Somewhere, a bird twittered in the distance, and the happy call was answered by another. “It’s beautiful,” Princess Platinum remarked as she rested her chin on her hooves. Clover responded with a small nod and mirrored the Princess’ posture. It certainly was a beautiful sight. “First time I’ve seen the sunset in Sun knows how long,” Clover said. “I know what you mean,” Platinum answered as she shifted her flank to sit more comfortably on the snow. “All it’s been for the longest time is gray and bleak, mixed here and there with a little black and crimson.” Clover winced at the subtle nod towards Onyx Ridge. Even though she had been lucky, and her time at the fortress had been little more than a day, she knew the things she had seen would haunt her for the rest of her life. Platinum seemed to pick up on Clover’s thoughts, and she shifted a little bit closer to the pistachio mare. “No need to be glum, dear. What’s past is past. Look on the bright side; you found your father, and now you’re heading west again.” It was amazing to see the Princess act in such a way for Clover. Barely two weeks ago she would have regarded the mare as she always had: a stuck-up brat whom she had to obey simply because Platinum was royal and she was not. Now, her perception of the Princess was entirely different. Not only was she less harsh, but Platinum actually seemed to care for her. That, and she no longer acted like a spoiled princess. That much was obvious as the white unicorn sat on the ground in her tattered and stained royal garments like any other pony. There was the light pattering of hoofsteps behind them, and Clover turned to see her father and Diadem slowly walking through the snow. Clover spread her hoof across the snow and gestured for them to sit, to which the old stallion happily obliged. Diadem, on the other hoof, simply spent time bouncing in circles around the other three unicorns. “Woohoo! I’m soooooo excited to see the Narrow Strait! I’ve never been this far out west before! What do you think we’re going to find over there? Magical creatures that are… like, magical?! That’d be so awesome!” “Ease up a little, kiddo,” Greenleaf happily remarked to her. “We still have a ways to go until we’re across the strait. Until we get there, conserve your energy. You’ll need it for later.” Platinum raised an eyebrow. “You plan on crossing the strait as well?” Greenleaf nodded. “Of course, although, probably not until a little while after you do. I have to get our little group here organized before we set off.” “You should come with us,” Clover pleaded, wrapping a foreleg around her father’s. “We can all make the journey together.” “Believe me, Clover, there’s nothing more I’d rather do. But I have more than just you to take care of. Diadem, the other prisoners… they all look up to me. And I, like it or not, have to lead them because of that.” “But we’ve only just been reunited…” “I know, Clover, I know.” Greenleaf smiled and placed his hoof under Clover’s chin. “But you’re a strong mare, now. You don’t need me to watch your back. Diadem does. I know you’ll be just fine without me. Besides, this isn’t the end. When you’re done with your mission, you can come and find me.” “And where will you be?” Greenleaf simply extended a foreleg and pointed to the west. “Somewhere out there. Diadem and the rest of the prisoners and I are going to make a home for ourselves. A small hamlet that might one day grow into an impressive city. A city for the ponies like us whom life has beaten down over and over again. We escaped the cages warlord Halite locked us in, and that city will be for us, the ever free.” Clover rolled the words around on her tongue. The City of the Ever Free. “It has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?” “It certainly does.” The stallion’s expression hardened, and he turned towards Clover. “What about yourself? What will you do when you find this land of yours?” “I guess I’ll have to head all the way back across the wilderness to tell King Lapis and then march all the way back,” Clover replied. “After that, it’ll be back to the same old grind. Same job, different castle.” “Oh, Clover, I assure you that I’ll make sure you’re treated like a noble,” Platinum interjected. “It’s about time I pay you back for all the hard work you’ve done for me for ten years.” “Well, I just want you to know that I’ll never close my door to my daughter,” Greenleaf said. “You’ll be welcome to join us wherever it is that we finally settle down. Besides, I’d like to catch up on all that father-daughter time we missed.” “Thanks, Dad,” Clover said as she nuzzled her father’s chest. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer at least a few times.” Just then, an earth pony stallion trotted up to them. “Greenleaf, we’ve got the supplies you asked us to gather all organized. We should rest tonight and be ready to leave by tomorrow morning.” Greenleaf dipped his head. “Thank you. We’ll move at first dawn.” Standing up, he gestured towards the distant west. “I’ll walk you two down to the Strait if you want. It isn’t too much farther from here.” “That’d be great,” Platinum replied. “But what will we do about Diadem?” All three ponies turned to where the little filly was passed out in sleep on a snowy rock. Greenleaf laughed and wrapped a scrap of cloth around her body to keep her warm. “When I told her to calm down and save her energy, I didn’t mean to crash. Don’t worry, she’s a heavy sleeper. She won’t be up for another few hours.” “Today has been fairly draining,” Clover said. “And I doubt that she got much sleep the night before the breakout. I remember when I was a filly, anything as exciting as that would keep me bouncing from hoof to hoof.” “Heh. She’ll be disappointed she didn’t get the chance to say goodbye,” Greenleaf remarked. “But I imagine you’ll all see her again soon enough. Let the child have her sleep. She’s going to need it.” As Greenleaf stepped to the side, Clover and Platinum both approached Diadem. Clover gently rubbed her mane and smiled. “Goodbye, Diadem. It was great to get to spend time with you, and I’m so happy to have met you. Take care of my father, okay? He’ll need you to get through the day, you little bundle of energy.” Her face darkened, and she slightly lowered her head. “I’ll be praying that you find your brother someday. One way or another, I hope that you do. But know that you’ll always be loved, no matter who it may be.” Placing a kiss on Diadem’s forehead, Clover stepped back. Princess Platinum then took her place and knelt beside the aqua unicorn. “I never really had the chance to speak properly with you, darling, but it’s been fun. Take care of yourself out there. Hone your magic, and I’m sure one day you’ll be a fair and just princess… more so than I have been.” With a soft smile, she levitated her silver and amethyst crown from her head and set it by Diadem’s tiny hoof. “Take good care of this for me, okay? It’s a princess’ crown. You don’t want to lose that.” When Platinum backed away and stood by Clover’s side, Greenleaf chuckled once before beginning to walk to the west. “That was very generous of you, Platinum. I know she’ll love it. And she’ll be telling me how much she loves it for the next month.” He paused and shook his head as a mischievous smile crept across his muzzle. “Actually, I take that back. That wasn’t very generous of you on my behalf.” They laughed quickly before setting into a comfortable silence. After a few short miles, the trio came to a sheet of ice stretching far across what used to be the Narrow Strait. They paused on a bluff overlooking the glacier, letting the little gusts of wind pull through their manes. “I guess this is goodbye, then,” Clover said, her soft words barely getting any distance. Greenleaf wasted no time walking towards his daughter and embracing her in a heartfelt hug. “I’m going to miss you.” Clover returned the embrace with all the feeling she had. “I’m going to miss you too. Promise me you’ll stay safe?” “And I thought I’d be the one asking that of you.” Greenleaf replied. “Of course I will. Make the Diamond Kingdom proud, and maybe make yourself a little proud in the process, eh?” “I will.” With that the two ponies separated, and Clover stepped onto the sheet of ice with Platinum. Before her was ice and eternity, but somewhere beyond that eternity was her home. She looked over her shoulder and saw the silent figure of her father watch her walk away until the fog and mists finally obscured his outline. ----- There was only a crescent moon obscured by a thick blanket of snowy clouds, but even then the little light that did manage to filter through lit up the snow and ice below as well as the sun. The hills and valleys caught and reflected the light like a ruined mirror, scattering the sad rays of moonlight across the countryside. The icy wind roared, but the snow on the ground had all frozen over. The only things that moved were two shadows. Imperators Cyclone and Typhoon sliced through the stream of air high above the ground on their way to River Rock. Between the light reflected off of the ground and low level clouds, the two pegasi needed no lanterns to see each other. They only carried the bare minimum; their armor, weapons, and a small saddlebag stuffed with a few snippets of lettuce and parsley for the journey. A powerful blast of wind caught Typhoon in the side and destabilized her flight, snapping her out of the trance she had been falling into. The mare grumbled and angled her wings, spinning out of the current and aligning herself in Cyclone’s slipstream. “Wind’s starting to rip my feathers out!” she shouted towards her brother. “We close to the city yet?” “A few more minutes!” Cyclone shouted back. “I’m just starting to see the spire of Burning Hearth! We should start trimming altitude now, fly in low so the Diamond Guard can’t see us!” “And here I thought this would be a leisurely flight through the cold,” Typhoon muttered. With a slight twist of her shoulders she pointed her wing crests downwards and followed Cyclone towards River Rock. Typhoon had only been to River Rock once in all her years in the Legion, as the city usually fell under her brother’s domain, but what she saw looked nothing like the splendor of the city she used to know. Instead of tall buildings of expertly crafted masonry, a city of ragged and crumbling towers filled their spots. Instead of vibrant banners and facades the color of every known gemstone and then some more, there was wet fabric and the sidings of gray stone. Instead of crowds and noise, there were icy streets and silence. Where there was once life, there was nothing. River Rock looked like a ghost town. “Fly between the buildings,” Cyclone commanded as they lowered themselves towards the ground. “There’s probably Diamond Guards along the walls and rooftops.” Typhoon scoffed. “Like there would be. The Diamond Guard isn’t a military force at all. It’s a bunch of nobles in glorified suits of armor, like any other unicorn. You know how much the unicorns love four walls and a roof.” “They’d be an impressive fighting force if we put them through Cirran military training,” Cyclone countered. “I’d love to have access to magic when fighting an enemy. Especially griffons.” “Since when have you ever fought a griffon?” Cyclone drew out the silence. “There’s a first time for everything.” Typhoon bit her lip, but ultimately decided to shake her head and focus on staying in the stream of her brother’s larger wingspan. Whatever Cyclone meant by that, now wasn’t the time to think about it. The Legionnaire’s creed demanded that she separate personal life from service. Right now, she was on active service. They followed the wide clearing of Mane Street from the southern approach, taking care to stick towards the shadows as they did so. A few candle-lit rooms cast oblong shadows on the ice beside them, but luckily the curtains were all drawn against the dark of night. There was not a soul to be seen in the street, and that suited the two Praetorians just fine. “I don’t like this,” Typhoon muttered. “Where’s the life? Where’s the noise? Isn’t River Rock supposed to be the largest city in Compact lands?” Cyclone grunted and paused at a street corner. “Maybe the famine killed them off. To that I say good riddance. It’s not like we needed the unicorns anyway.” “They build most of our fine trinkets and machinery.” “Bah.” The stallion waved a hoof before decisively slamming it back into the ground. “Earth pony carpenters can take care of the woodwork, and our smiths can pick up the rest. Like I said, we don’t need the unicorns. The only thing they’d be good for is lending their magic to a fight. Nothing more.” “Yeah…” Typhoon droned. “Unicorn wizards and researchers have found new ways to treat diseases and fashion new weapons, like the crossbow. We’d be missing a lot if they weren’t around.” “They didn’t invent skysteel,” Cyclone maintained, “and that’s the only weapon I need.” They walked for a few more blocks until they came to a quaint residence embedded into the cliff just adjacent to Burning Hearth Castle. Framed in iron and made of birch wood with intricate runes carved into the surface, Star Swirl the Bearded’s house seemed strangely more grand than the castle it stood next to. “Guards,” Cyclone whispered, pointing with his wing towards an alley two houses down from Star Swirl’s. Typhoon crept to his side and watched as the two unicorns spoke in shivering words to each other. “Told you there would be some.” “So how do we get rid of them?” Typhoon asked. “Easy.” Bending down, the stallion scooped up a sizable chunk of ice in his wing and held it before him, testing the weight. Bouncing the ice in the air a few times, he finally propelled it skyward and pivoted on his front hooves. With a solid thwack! he shattered the ice and launched dozens of razor-sharp shards in the direction of the two guards. Typhoon cringed as she heard the sound of flesh being ripped apart and the cracking of ice against armor. When she looked again, she saw one unicorn slump over and the second struggle with a six inch shard of ice lodged in his throat before he too went limp. “Not bad for a fire empath,” Typhoon remarked. “And what would you do, miss ice queen? Freeze their hooves to the ground?” “I would have frozen them over entirely.” Slinking out from the corner, she scurried to Star Swirl’s door and knocked. There was a tense silence as she waited for an answer. After thirty seconds, she knocked again, louder, and was rewarded when she was the white glow of a manalight activating. “Who is it?” grumbled an elderly voice from behind the closed door. “Some of us are actually trying to get some sleep on what little food we have left.” “Imperators Typhoon and Cyclone of the Cirran Legion,” Typhoon answered. “We have important business we need to discuss with you.” “Humph,” the voice grumbled as deadbolts began to slide away. “If you’re just some thugs or charlatans pretending to be such powerful ponies, I should warn you, just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I can’t fight.” With the grinding of one massive bar of iron, the door finally opened, revealing Star Swirl the Bearded. The old unicorn’s tired eyes were even more tired this late at night, and his white beard seemed awfully frazzled and chaotic. He wore nothing but a simple silk nightgown decorated with the constellations of the universe. “Oh!” the old unicorn exclaimed as his eyes finally finished their examination of Typhoon. “You are—my apologies, Imperators, I had no idea. If I had known—” “Relax, Star Swirl,” Cyclone commanded as he walked towards the door. “If you had known, the Diamond Guard would have invariably found out. Not that we don’t trust you, but we don’t trust the rest of your nobles. Especially your princess, Platinum.” “Platinum hasn’t been in River Rock for a week,” Star Swirl spoke. “She left to head west and find a new land for the unicorns to settle. It’s not like we can live here much longer.” “Wait,” Typhoon interjected, running a hoof along the strands of red and yellow hair that had teased their way out of her helmet. “You’re moving west, too?” “Yes… why?” “Nothing,” the mare quickly answered. “It’s just that my father also went west to find a new land.” “Well, I hope for their sakes that the two don’t cross into each other.” Star Swirl laughed, then smiled and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I didn’t mean to leave you out there in the cold. Come in, come in, I’d by more than happy to have you.” As the unicorn stepped away from the door he quickly located his signature hat and positioned it on his head with a small flare of magic. Typhoon and Cyclone both followed him in, with Typhoon taking the time to wipe her hooves on the worn welcome mat before walking towards a table. Pots, pans, dishes, and silverware of all kinds littered the kitchen, and reams of papers and dusty books covered the single couch in front of the fireplace. This was definitely the home of a wizard. “So, what is it I can help you kids with?” Star Swirl chirped as he struck a flint against the stone of the fireplace to set the logs ablaze. “Considering you took the time to fly into River Rock when the King established a no-fly zone over the city, it must be pretty important.” “We came to ask you to translate a book for us,” Typhoon answered as Cyclone withdrew the text from his saddlebag. “And we aren’t kids, we are soldiers of the Praetorian Guard.” “When I’m seventy-something and you’re barely in your twenties, you’re kids to me, Praetorian,” Star Swirl gently teased. “Let me see this thing.” With an aura of green magic, he grabbed hold of the book and brought it towards his table where a quill and parchment were waiting. As Star Swirl began to flip through the pages, Cyclone began to hover over his shoulder while he worked. “I’m pretty sure it’s draconic, from what I can tell. I don’t know what a gang leader would be doing with a journal written in draconic.” “Hmmm… this is indeed draconic,” Star Swirl mumbled as he sifted through page after page. “It’s not really that surprising, considering who you’re dealing with.” “What? A unicorn gang leader operating at a two-bit town like Amber Field?” Typhoon scoffed. “Seems likely.” “The problem with you two is that you underestimate ponies who aren’t pegasi,” Star Swirl retorted. “The fact that he’s a unicorn is important. Let me ask you, what kind of ponies know draconic?” “Well,” Cyclone began, placing a hoof to his chin as he thought. “Wizards like yourself, obviously, because most of your spells come from the dragons.” “Yes.” Star Swirl’s response was almost an exasperated sigh. “Think harder.” “Well there’s…” Typhoon began, before shaking her head. “No, it couldn’t be.” “They spend a lot of time along the fringes of the dragon border, am I correct?” “Yeah, but… that would explain a lot, actually.” Cyclone shifted his hooves. “Somepony tell me what’s going on.” Just then the house shook, sending Star Swirl, Typhoon, and Cyclone to the ground. Pottery and china fell off of shelves and counters, slamming into the ground and shattering into millions of pieces. The fireplace flared briefly, then was out. “You have to go!” Star Swirl shouted as he slowly rose to his hooves. “I’ll try to meet up with you at the southern gate tomorrow!” “Who is it?!” Cyclone shouted back, drawing his sword. Typhoon scrambled into a sitting position and drew her own skysteel as well. “Diamond Guards.” > Chapter 13: The Wind Turns > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 13: The Wind Turns “By the Gods! Hurricane, sir, come look at this!” Hurricane grunted and sat up from the rock he was resting on. Pan Sea had gone off to scout a little while ago, leaving the Commander to sit and rest in the meantime. Now the private was barely keeping himself from bouncing in place as his wings fluttered in excitement on a distant hilltop. “I swear, Pansy, if it’s another bird nest like last time…” Just then he stopped and took the time to adjust his slackened jaw. There, stretching before him for innumerous miles was the verdant and rolling green hills of a fresh land untouched by the wintry strife of home. The ground rose and dipped in gentle fashion for as far as the eye could see, until it finally met with the sapphire blue sky at the base of an incredibly tall and solitary spire far, far to the west. “Gods above,” Hurricane breathed, “I think we found it.” “Isn’t it great, sir?!” Pan Sea exclaimed. Without any further delay, the Legionnaire jumped into the air and began to fly in circles over the landscape. Hurricane only shook his head and followed from below, absolutely stunned. There were few conceptions of beauty the Commander held on par with that of the countryside around Zephyrus or the impressive skyline of Stratopolis, but this land was something else entirely. The grass was the greenest he had ever seen, and flowers seemed to hardly be able to control their blossoms as they burst forth in blinding vibrance. Trees stood tall and proud against the wind that gently but firmly swept over one hill and down the gullies between. Not only that, but there was warmth and energy to the land as well. Hurricane closed his eyes and stretched his wings into the morning sun. His feathers told him that it was a pleasant sixty-seven degrees, even though it felt much warmer outside. Hurricane supposed it was the effects of having lived in the cold for so long. Even before the Blizzard, the Compact lands rarely got into the upper seventies in the summer. It reminded him of the heat Nimbus was subjected to in the summer months. “Can you believe this?!” Pan Sea called down from above Hurricane’s head. The yellow pegasus was resting on a soft cloud of cumulus that he had clipped from some high-flying body. “It’s so warm! So green! So full of life!” Hurricane laughed and began to trot forward. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, Pansy.” Pan Sea took up a sheepish grin. “Heh… yeah…” “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Hurricane assured him. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you this… excited, before.” Squinting into the distance, Hurricane took a deep breath and fluttered his wings several times. The pain in his chest was finally starting to dull away. Raincloud always said he was a fast healer. Perhaps in a day or two he could fly again. “See any good spots to plant a flag from up there?” Hurricane asked. Pan Sea raised a hoof to his forehead and scanned the distance. “I’d love to get something on top of that huge mountain over there, but it’s a little too far of a walk. Erm, sorry, Commander.” Hurricane rolled his eyes. “Anything else closer by?” “Mmmm… Aha!” Emphatically waving his hoof, Pan Sea pointed towards the north west. “There’s a fairly large hill about a two hour’s walk from here in that direction. Looks like it’s got good windage to keep the flag fluttering.” Hurricane smiled and started to walk in that direction. “Well, how about we get started then? The first step towards acquiring any new territory is to stake a claim.” Pan Sea saluted from his cloud before hopping off to walk by Hurricane’s side. “Sir, yes sir!” ----- Princess Platinum and Clover the Clever happily trotted along a small stream that split off from the delta at the edge of the strait. The feeling of mud beneath their hooves, originally a revolting thought to Platinum, was a welcome change from the snow and ice they had plodded through for over a week. “Can you believe this, Clover?” Platinum called back from her position in the lead. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen anything other than snow and ice and rock! Why, this is simply wonderful!” Clover only had a cheerful and awestruck smile on her face as she tilted her head to peer through the tops of trees. “Imagine how many new species of plants and animals there are here! I can’t even begin to fathom it all! Why, it will take the best unicorn taxonomists years to even begin to scratch the surface!” Platinum lightly shook her head with a soft laugh. “Of course that would be the first thing you think about. I’m much more interested in the greenness of it all! Trees, bushes, berries…” she bent down and took a ladylike nibble of the grass, “oh, even the grass tastes divine! Perhaps we stumbled into the afterlife and didn’t even notice? I certainly don’t remember dying at Onyx Ridge!” “Technically you wouldn’t remember dying if you were dead, because your brain shuts down when you die and can’t form any new memories—” “Hush, Clover dear,” Platinum interrupted. “Just sit back and enjoy all this majesty! Blue sky, green plants, birds chirping overhead, cool and clear water—this is simply too good to be true!” Clover didn’t deny that it was beautiful. In all her years she had never seen paradise such as this. It certainly beat the choking town that the Blizzard had reduced River Rock to, but even before then the city hadn’t looked as magnificent as this on its best of days. River Rock (and the Diamond Kingdom as a whole) was known for being a series of mountains and valleys, and the natural coloration associated with that terrain was gray. Sure there were trees and grasses aplenty in the summer, but it was always windy and cool around the mountains. It hardly compared to the warmth and vibrancy here. “Oh, I can’t wait to show this place to my father!” Platinum shouted, trotting from tree to tree. She bent over and took a long whiff of a patch of flowers before leaning back with a dazed smile across her face. “The sights, the smells, everything about this place is perfect!” Clover smiled and trotted further through the undergrowth, eventually finding a point where the stream twisted across her path. Rather than step around it, however, she simply waded through the water. As she did so she felt dirt and aches from years of servitude in Burning Heart wash away. She emerged on the other side, feeling like she had somehow contaminated the purity of the water. “Come on through!” she shouted to Platinum. “The water feels great!” With only a short pause at the edge of the bank to test her hoof in the running water, Platinum levitated her robes across the stream and set them down on the other side. Then, with a small breath, she began to wade across. She soon let out the air in a relaxed sigh as she felt her limbs cleaned of all the filth she had accumulated on her journey. When she arrived on the opposite bank, it was all she could do not to step back into the stream. “Mmmm,” Platinum hummed. “Divine.” As the two unicorns walked further into the forest, they stopped several times to observe some new creature, enjoy the sights, or browse some of the local berries and plants until their stomachs ached from overconsumption. Compared to the pangs of hunger that had plagued them for the past month, it was an amazing change. After they had waited several minutes in the sun to let their stomachs digest, Clover rolled onto her hooves and stood, facing west. There the midday sun bathed a distant and rocky hill in light and warmth, and only the gentlest of breezes caressed the branches of the trees along its crest. Platinum stood up next to her and saw it as well. After a few minutes of contemplation, she dug through a small saddlebag until she found a bundle of cloth. With her Arcana, she unfurled the cloth until it formed a fluttering banner. The sigil of the Diamond Kingdom, a white unicorn’s head angled to the side and surrounded by gold diamonds set in royal purple, flowed with the breeze. “What do you say we place a flag on that distant hill, Clover?” Clover softly smiled and nodded her head. “That sounds like an excellent idea, Princess. Then we can gather food and water and prepare for the return trip to River Rock.” Platinum shook her head as she descended into the valley that opened up into a wide field. “One thing at a time, Clover. I’d like to savor this warmth and grandeur while it lasts. The cold will be waiting for us when we get back.” As Platinum walked away, Clover trotted at a distance behind her. The Princess was right. They could spend a day here in paradise. She didn’t see any harm in that. Hay, it was much better than freezing to death back in Compact lands. ----- It was around noon when Chancellor Puddinghead and Representative Smart Cookie made their way out of the nearby forest and onto a stretch of wide, flat ground around a looming stony hill. Smart Cookie realized that with the events of the past few days he should have been tired as hay, but for some reason the sheer beauty and magnificence of the new land he found himself in rejuvenated his aching body. Leaving Jade behind had been hard; in all his years, Smart Cookie felt like he had never been as close to another pony, let alone another mare, as her. He had wanted nothing more than to stay by her side as she went through the arduous task of trying to consolidate her victory into the true realization of her dream, but even that much was impossible. Puddinghead was determined to head west, and even though the Chancellor’s general bluntness had grated Smart Cookie’s nerves, he couldn’t deny that Puddinghead had a point. True, the Low Valleys controlled most of the food going to the tribes, but even what they had was bound to be running out at some point. The longer they dilly-dallied out west, the closer the earth ponies would get towards extinction, either from famine or through war with the pegasi and the unicorns. “This land! This land, Smart Cookie, this land!” Puddinghead exclaimed as he hopped from rock to rock and sprinted from grassy knoll to grassy knoll. “Would you look at this land?!” “I see it alright, Chancellor,” Smart Cookie assured him. “You’ve only been saying the same thing for about an hour now.” “I know, but would you look at this land?!” “It certainly is nice. There’s lots of life to be found. Plenty of land for farming as well. Why, in no time we’ll turn these green fields into rolling hills of amber grain!” Puddinghead bounced up much higher than what should be possible. “It’s a whole lot greener and livelier than our lands back home! Why did we have to settle there anyway? Couldn’t the original settlers have just come to this amazing place and found the Low Valleys here?” “They didn’t know what was beyond the Narrow Strait, Chancellor,” Smart Cookie reminded him. “We’re probably the first to cross it in Sun knows how many years. The Founders didn’t see any need to go farther west, the fields around Amber Field were healthy and fertile. Besides,” he added as he adjusted his hat, “it wouldn’t be called ‘The Low Valleys’ anyway. Do you see any valleys around here?” Puddinghead took the time to make a complete revolution before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s all a matter of perspective, Smart Cookie. I mean, look there.” His brown hoof pointed in the direction of the rocky hill to the west. “That could be considered one-half of a valley!” “Then it would be ‘The Low Half-Valleys.’” “Shhhhhhh,” Puddinghead shushed as he held a hoof to his muzzle. “They don’t need to know that!” Smart Cookie looked around. “Who doesn’t…? What?” Puddinghead squinted into the foreground and scowled before his usual quirkiness returned to his face. “Doesn’t matter! They got the message clear enough. Now, what was I saying? Oh yes, my logic of why this place should be called the Low Valleys being sound as a rock.” “It’s not really—” “Ah ah ah, not now, Smart Cookie.” Raising a hoof to his forehead, Puddinghead looked towards the west before beginning to happily bounce away. “This way! We must find the perfect mound of dirt to plant our flag in!” Smart Cookie rolled his eyes as he cantered to Puddinghead’s pace. “There’s no need to stoop to unicorn stereotypes, Chancellor.” “What’s a stereotype?” “For the love of—!” Smart Cookie groaned. “I love you, Chancellor, but sometimes you’re just a little too far out there.” Puddinghead came to an abrupt stop and faced Smart Cookie. “What are you talking about? I’m like, barely more than twenty feet ahead of you.” “Yeah. Right,” Smart Cookie muttered as he passed Puddinghead. “Well, take a look around. I’m sure we can find someplace to claim and be on our way back home.” “Hmm… Alright, but first it’s gotta be the bestest, greatest spot there could be! Are you with me, Representative?!” Smart Cookie gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders which Puddinghead mistook for actually giving a buck. “That settles it! We shall not leave until we’ve found the perfect place to plant our flag!” True to his word, Puddinghead didn’t give up until he had searched and evaluated every potential candidate for receiving the honor of holding the flag of the Low Valleys. When he finally found a suitable spot a few hours later, it was all Smart Cookie could do to maintain a level of professionalism and not jump for joy. Puddinghead had no problem with that last stipulation. “This place is perfect! I can feel it in my hooves! The air! The trees! The dirt!” With a ceremonious belly flop, the Chancellor plunged into a mound of mud and rolled around several times to evaluate its consistency and texture. After several painstaking calculations he came to a simple conclusion: “This dirt is the dirtiest dirt in the whole dirt world!” Smart Cookie trotted over and scooped up a hoofful of soil. At the touch of his earth pony Endura, a small seedling suddenly sprung to life out of the pile he held aloft. “Fertile, too. I thought Amber Field had some great land, but this place is perfect for growing food.” With a squelch of mud, Puddinghead rolled onto his back and sighed. His formal attire was smeared and stained from shoulder to tail with dirt, but he didn’t care. “It’s been ages since I’ve felt good, solid dirt beneath my hooves. Seriously, all that ice and snow? Totally cramping my style. That’s more of unicorn weather anyway.” Smart Cookie took the time to nibble on some grass before slacking back on his haunches expectantly. “Hey, Chancellor, now that we found this place, you wanna stake a claim so we can load up on food and skedaddle? Maybe with any luck we’ll cross paths with Jade again at Onyx Ridge.” “Right!” Puddinghead exclaimed. “But first we need to give this place a name!” “’The Low Half-Valleys’ wasn’t enough for you, Chancellor?” “Of course not! In the name of the earth ponies, I’m going to call this place… uh…” Puddinghead scratched his chin. Thinking up names on the spot was awfully hard. Wait! Best. Name. Ever. “Dirtville!” Smart Cookie’s facehoof almost gave himself a black eye. “Sir, if you can’t think of anything else, how about we leave it as ‘Earth’ for now until the Board can think of a better town name?” “Right-o!” Puddinghead chirped. “Now and forever, on the hats of all my ancestors and of my future children, this land shall be called Earth until somepony thinks of a better name!” With a cheer, Puddinghead pulled a flag out of his hat and harshly speared it into the ground. “We found our new home!” ----- It took several hours of walking and climbing, but neither Clover nor Platinum seemed to mind as they simply enjoyed their time in paradise. As the sun reached its climax over their heads and began its descent, they finally reached the foot of the hilltop. The two ponies stopped and craned their necks upwards to admire its majesty. “Very solid granite this is,” Platinum remarked as she ran a hoof along the stone. “This would be the perfect place to set up a new castle when we move here—at least, until we can get to that impressive spire another few hundred miles inland.” Clover trotted up beside her and admired the rocks as well. “I didn’t take you for a geologist, Princess.” “There are things that you learn if you’re bored enough in a town surrounded on all sides by impressive cliffs and valley walls, Clover dear. While you spent your days following Star Swirl around and learning from his impressive mind, I would sometimes take a walk around River Rock with my father. He taught me a lot about the city then. It’s a shame he doesn’t get out much anymore with the Scourge.” “Well, I’ll be,” Clover remarked. “I’ll have to take a good look around River Rock when we get back. In the meantime, what do you say we climb this slope?” “Splendid idea. Come, I see a path that isn’t so steep.” Then the Princess began to climb up a craggy cut into the side of the mesa, her hooves making careful and minute adjustments to the rocks beneath them as they shifted with her weight. Clover followed her, and together the two mares made slow but steady progress towards the top. When they were about three quarters of the way to the top, the cut into the hillside became something resembling a path, and that path soon widened into a natural balcony over the fields below. “Ooh!” Platinum exclaimed, galloping towards the balcony and leaving Clover behind in her wake. “Beautiful! I haven’t seen anything like this in years!” Clover accelerated and stopped at the edge of the balcony, letting the gentle breeze toss strands of her dark green mane into her face. “You’re right! It’s absolutely stunning!” When she realized that the Princess wasn’t facing in the same direction as she was, Clover turned around and raised an eyebrow. Instead of seeing Platinum taking in the sights of the surrounding countryside, she saw the white mare huddled against the side of the cliff, pawing through some of the loose rocks around its base. “Come look at this! Look!” she exclaimed. With a small strobe of blue Arcana, Platinum lifted up a rather large rock and slammed it against the ground. As it cracked and split in two, Clover only expected to see more of the gray stone. Instead, an army of bedazzling colors assaulted her eyes with their brilliance. Hundreds of tiny gems every color of the rainbow simply scattered onto the ground like common stones. “Stars above!” Clover exclaimed as she bent down to pick one up. “That shouldn’t be possible! Gemstones aren’t naturally cut, and neither are they in so shallow a ground… or in such a magnitude, either!” To try and prove it was some fluke, Clover charged a bolt of Arcana and released it at the stone wall of the hillside. As the stone shattered and crumbled, several large rubies and sapphires clattered onto the ground. Each one was perfectly cut and, aside from dirt and dust, shiny and lustrous. “This is simply too great of a find to pass up!” Platinum asserted as she gathered a few of the larger gems into a pouch. “Just look at this! I’ve never seen such jewels! Think of how valuable of a find this is! Look here,” she began as she singled out an impressively sized cut ruby. “This ruby is something special. This ruby is dazzling This whole land is dazzling! Why, I’m… I’m double dazzled!” Clover picked up a few gems that caught her own fancy as well and set them aside. “That I can agree with. This would do wonders for our economy if all we have to do to get cut gemstones is stick a spade in the ground.” “Who cares about the economy?!” Platinum exclaimed as she finished rolling in the gemstones. “I can have all the jewelry I want, when I want it!” “Shall we raise the flag?” Clover asked as she walked over to a tree and began to strip a suitable branch from it as a makeshift flagpole. Platinum wasted no time pulling the banner from her saddlebag. “Of course, Clover! Then I can get back to gathering gems!” As Clover wedged the flagpole into the ground with her magic, Platinum carefully fashioned the banner to one end of the branch until it could flutter freely in the wind. Taking a step back to admire it beside Clover, the Princess proudly proclaimed to the world: “In the name of King Lapis, fourth of name of House Azurite, and in the presence of the Great Kings of Old, especially the Wise Five who founded the mighty Diamond Kingdom, I hereby proclaim this to be the province of Unicornia! May it serve the Diamond Kingdom well and offer up many gems to the crown, now and forever!” The ceremonial ritual complete, Platinum and Clover bowed before the flag. When they arose, it was with smiles on their faces. “We did it, Princess!” Clover proclaimed. “We found our new land!” “Indeed we did, Clover. Indeed we did.” Shaking a few granules of dirt from her hoof, Platinum’s eyes suddenly squinted as she looked towards the sky. “I do say… what on Earth is that?” ----- “Alright, pause, Pansy,” Hurricane breathed as he clutched at his chest. The hours of marching had taken their toll on the Commander, but he had refused to be bested by mere pain. Instead, he scooted towards the side of the steep hill and leaned against the wall. Pan Sea fluttered down to Hurricane. “You okay, sir? It’s just another thousand feet from here.” “I’ll live,” Hurricane grunted back. As his breath slowly came back to him, the pegasus glanced across his surroundings. He was facing south and was able to clearly see the fields and hills for miles. The greenness gently undulated over hills, the blades of grass contributing to a cascading sheen with every dip and turn. Beyond that, the countryside quickly gave way to humid swampland. “Impressive; I can only imagine it’s more so from the sky,” Hurricane said. Pan Sea nodded. “You’d have to see it to believe it, sir. That swamp down there,” he said as he gestured with a wing, “it runs on for miles, and thick as could be, too. After about ten or so leagues it begins to thin out with the change in elevation. The dampness of the swamp looks to change into arid highlands. Lovely shade of orange. One day I think I’ll take a flight out there.” The soldier glanced at his officer and coughed lightly, mumbling some sort of apology. Hurricane only waved it off with a hoof. “Go on, talk is better than silence.” “Right,” Pan Sea replied. “Anyway, eventually a series of mesas blocks out the horizon to the south without flying any higher. To the west, there’s a wide forest that ends at the feet of those mountains over there. I tell you, that one spire, though, it pierces the skyline. I couldn’t see another mountain anywhere near as tall as that one. I think it’s higher up than even Stratopolis—or, how high it used to be.” “One day we’ll outdo it, Pansy,” Hurricane assured him. “One day we’ll build a city that’s higher and grander than that mountain. We’re Cirrans; we don’t give up, and even if it takes a thousand years, the Empire will be reborn. After that, who knows? Perhaps even one day we’ll take back Dioda from the griffon bastards that drove us out.” Pan Sea sat down next to Hurricane. “Sometimes I still dream of the war.” “Sometimes I don’t dream of the war. It’s hard to forget what we’ve been through.” Hurricane sighed and wiped the handle of his sword with a fetlock. “I close my eyes and I still see Zephyrus burning. Every time I even blink, I can see Silver Sword’s face. I always thought I would be the one to die first, but he beat me to it.” “You know he’s still watching us from the Great Skies.” “Aye, that he is.” Hurricane stood up and shook a hoof at the sky. “I bet you’re banging Celeste up there, aren’t you? I should have figured as much.” The black pegasus took two steps back and shook his head, chuckling. “Soon enough I’ll be up there with him. Hopefully he doesn’t get in too deep of shit with the Gods while I’m not there to watch his back.” “I only met him once during training, but he seemed like a great guy,” Pan Sea offered. “Yeah, you were the only one to actually beat him during sparring practice, weren’t you?” When Pan Sea blushed, Hurricane guffawed and struck the ground. “I remember it all! He was sore for weeks about that! The look on his face when he walked off the field? Priceless.” Ending with a few light chuckles, Hurricane smirked and looked further up the side of the hill. “Ironic that some of my fondest memories of Silver came in the worst of times. If the Gods are going to make your life shit, at least there’s usually a silver lining to it, right?” “I would say that missing the entire war because you get wounded in the first battle certainly seems to follow that theme.” “Be grateful that you never had to go to Nimbus or Feathertop.” Hurricane slowly blew air out the corner of his mouth. “Anyways, let’s get back to it, shall we?” With that, Hurricane began to scale the remaining height of the hillside while Pan Sea hovered nearby and assisted the wounded pegasus whenever he could. Slippery slopes of gravel, twisted and gnarled undergrowth, and spindly trees were soon overcome. After the arduous climb, Hurricane found himself standing atop the mountain. The view was all that Pan Sea had made it out to be. There was the swamp and the highlands to the south; there was the forest and the massive mountain to the east; forest and plains stretched onwards on the opposite side of a rather large river to the north; and, far more interesting, was the view to the east. Verdant fields and hills abruptly came to a halt against a wall of ice. Even from there the popping and cracking of the glaciers was audible. Clear skies clashed with thick, gray clouds that hung over the opposite shore of the strait. From there, the land was only visible for a few additional miles before a cocktail of snow and hail obscured its features behind grayness. Pan Sea joined Commander Hurricane on the hilltop and gently folded his wings against his sides. “Looks even worse from the outside.” Hurricane shrugged. “Looks worse, but I’d prefer looking at it over feeling it any day. Come on, let’s just plant the flag and go. It’s about time Cirra came out of the snow and shadows and into the light and warmth.” Turning around, the Commander walked closer to the western edge of the hill, looking for a good spot to place the flag. Most of the hilltop was rocky and barren, but eventually he found a patch of dirt deep enough to plant a flagpole in. With a few sweeps of his wing, Hurricane cleared out the immediate area and began to unfold the Cirran standard. “Pansy, break me off a branch of that tree there, would you?” he asked. The private nodded and, drawing his sword, began to hack away at a thin limb that would make a good pole. Holding the banner with his teeth, Hurricane quickly unpacked Cirra’s flag and spread it on a rock in front of him. The familiar blue horsehead flanked by a pair of wings and set against a sea of stars greeted him. There were a few splotches of blood on the flag from his battle with Streak Wing, but that was better than most Cirran flags after about a month of service. There was a solid thump as Pan Sea split the branch from the tree, and the Legionnaire sheathed his sword and began to drag the branch over to Hurricane. The black pegasus grabbed onto one end of the pole and managed to secure the standard to the end before hoisting it onto his shoulders and ramming the branch into the ground. With a little bit of force the makeshift pole stuck, and Hurricane stood back to admire his work. “We did it,” Pan Sea breathed, wiping some sweat from his brow. “We found a new land.” Hurricane nodded and saluted to the flag. “Whenever the might of Cirra is contested,” he began, reciting the words of the ancient Cirran oath, “Whenever those who would seek to cause harm to my friends, family, and emperor strike us; whenever the thick clouds of war cover my land, I will stand in the face of such terror. And together, a million strong, we will fight the enemy hoof and feather, ceasing only when it has been driven back into the abyss, or my blood stains the skies of my homeland red.” Lowering his hoof, Hurricane bowed to the ground and spread his wings, an action which Pan Sea copied. “In the name of the Gods, I offer this piece of land to the Empire of Cirra. May our soldiers, now and forevermore, keep it safe and keep it beautiful. For there can be no war without the home front, and no conquest without a place to start from.” “Well spoken, sir,” Pan Sea congratulated. “I wish I could have been around when Roamulus himself spoke those words so many years ago.” “He probably said it better than I,” Hurricane stated. After watching the flag for a little while longer, he slackened his wings and began to trot around the edge of the hilltop. “Let’s take a little rest, then gather some food and begin the journey back home. It’s a long flight back to Cloudsdale, and we’ll probably have a strong headwind the whole time.” “Sounds good,” Pan Sea replied as he leaned over the edge of the hill. “Perhaps we should—” He stopped suddenly, frozen in place. “Should what, Pansy?” Hurricane demanded, turning to spot the Legionnaire. Pan Sea held one hoof in front of him with his wings splayed open in shock. Hurricane made to move over to him when he heard the distinct sound of an unwelcome voice: “I do say… what on Earth is that?” ----- “Get the fuck down!” Typhoon slammed herself against the wall of the nearest building as another volley of arcane bolts skittered across the grounds around her. Cyclone crouched next to her, shielding his face with a wing as he peered through his feathers at the unicorns along the rooftops. The moment the firing let up for just a second, the two pegasi sprinted out of cover and into the shadow of the next building. “You just had to kill the freaking guards, didn’t you?!” Typhoon screamed at her brother. “You just had to catch the attention of the entirety of the Diamond Guards!” Cyclone shoved her to the ground as more manabursts came their way. “By the Gods, just shut up, Typhoon! We’ll argue about who screwed over who when we get the fuck out of here!” With a whirl of his wings, Cyclone hauled Typhoon to her hooves and dove into cover across the street. Typhoon leaned out of cover and glared at the dozens of unicorns along River Rock’s rooftops. “How did they manage to organize that quickly? We were talking with Star Swirl for not even five minutes before they began to attack! Did they know we were coming?!” Cyclone picked up a chunk of ice and bucked it at the guards along the rooftops, forcing them to retreat from the shower of deadly shards sailing their way. With that side of the street barely suppressed, Typhoon and Cyclone streaked down the road as they flew only a few inches off the ground. “If we can just get to the town square, we can get the hell out of here!” Cyclone shouted as he skidded to a stop behind a wagon. “The rooftops will be too far away for them to be able to shoot us out of the sky! We just have to dodge their fire until we do get there!” The wagon rocked as a blast of mana hit its side, causing Typhoon and Cyclone to lean away from each other and cover their heads with their hooves as it passed through. When they looked back, a smoldering hole had been blown through the cart between the both of them. In the meantime, smaller Arcana bolts peppered the street and building facing them. “I knew I should have put reinforcements on standby!” Cyclone spat as he drew his sword. “We may be Praetorians, but we can’t take on the whole damn Diamond Guard by ourselves!” Typhoon leaned out of cover just enough to see a company of Diamond Guards advancing down the street towards them. “Cyclone, we’ve got a problem!” “Yeah we fucking do!” he shouted back around his sword. “When I get back to Cloudsdale, I’m so getting a damn bow!” “More Diamond Guards coming down the street!” Typhoon yelled around her sword. “We have to get out of here, now!” Cyclone looked both ways down the street but ducked back under cover as an arcane bolt struck the skysteel of his helmet. Taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth around his sword and began to channel fury into his Empatha. “On the count of three, we go opposite ways. We’ll regroup at the town square and escape from there. Got it?!” “Sir!” Typhoon answered as she opened her wings. The calming effect of her adrenaline had begun to pour into her veins, muting the environment around her to all but Cyclone’s voice. “One! Two! THREE!” Typhoon kicked off of the cobblestone road so hard she nearly snapped her neck as she accelerated. The company of Diamond Guards advancing her way suddenly broke ranks in fright as she sailed over their heads. With a quick twist of her wings, she was able to roll her way out and around the various halberds and pikes that the guards angled towards her until she was on the other side of their formation. Now past the guards, she quickly landed and turned to catch a quick glimpse of Cyclone. The Imperator had turned himself into a ball of fire that was terrorizing the unicorns along the rooftops. Typhoon could see and hear soldiers screaming in pain and fear as Cyclone’s wingblades ripped into their flesh with fire, sending them tumbling from the rooftops. Even then, he was unable to stay in the sky long as soldiers in the entire city block began to fire upon him with their magic. Looping once in the air, Cyclone dove straight through the wall of the nearest building. The explosion of fire and debris rocked the entirety of River Rock and lit up the night sky brighter than the sun. “There she is!” “Damned Cirran, get her!” Typhoon’s thoughts were brought back to her surroundings as several of the guards she had bypassed turned and began to charge her. With a cocky smile and a salute of her wing, the Praetorian kicked up snow and ice and launched the projectiles at the nearest guards. As the ice hit, her Empatha took over and froze several soldiers in place. The advance of the Diamond Guard stalled, she flapped her wings and began to wind and twist through streets and alleyways. As she flew beneath rooftops and bounced off walls between buildings, Typhoon could still hear the carnage her brother was wreaking on the city. Every few seconds there was another explosion and a burst of fire that spiked the night with light, and she could hear several desperate screams. She smiled as she left an alleyway that opened onto a wide street. At least Cyclone’s destructive nature was taking the majority of the Guard’s attention off of herself. Or that was what she thought until she saw a brigade of unicorns aligned against her on both sides of the street. Upon seeing her, both sides filled the air with mana. Typhoon’s flight was nimble and quick, but it wasn’t quite agile enough. She felt a searing pain in her left wing that sent her tumbling out of the sky and through the window of a rather large craftsponies’ guild house. Her heavily armored body smashed several small wooden tables and scattered artisan’s supplies everywhere. Clambering to her hooves, Typhoon had just enough time to take cover behind a bookcase as the unicorns began to pile in and fire on her. In response, Typhoon located the chains to a chandelier and split them with her skysteel sword, sending the thousand pound iron construction slamming into the floor the Diamond Guards occupied. There were several cries of pain and crunches of bone and flesh, but the explosion of her cover from manafire informed Typhoon that she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Cursing under her breath, Typhoon flipped over a railing at the edge of an elevated platform that divided the room into two. Sliding left and right around arcane bolts, she managed to scramble over the platform and put something solid between herself and her pursuers. That was when the building exploded in fire. She couldn’t see which window Cyclone had flown through with all the smoke, but before she even realized what was happening the entire building was filled with flames and exploding painters’ oils. Raising her wings to shield herself from the blasts of nearby glass bottles, Typhoon began to force her way towards the end of the building. The doors had been blown open from Cyclone’s entrance, and the mare could see the fountain of city square through the smoky haze. The heat was escalating, quickly becoming unbearable for the ice Empath. Her hooves began to stagger as the smog stole her breath, and she had to struggle to not slip on broken glass around her. After a long and agonizing minute of stumbling, Typhoon made it to the doorway. Then the entire wall of the building suddenly detonated in fire and ash. Typhoon tried to roll out of the way of the falling stone and mortar, but there was simply too much of it to dodge. She barely managed to scoot across the threshold of the doorway before a sizeable chunk of stone slammed into the ground in front of her. She immediately jumped to the left to avoid it, but then a heavy wooden beam dropped on her back and pinned her to the ground. She tried with all her might to stand up, but a stone fell from the wall and slammed into her wing, turning her struggle to escape into a cry of pain. Gritting her teeth and looking around, she could see unicorns beginning to enter the town square from the various side streets. She kicked once or twice at the wood pinning her to the ground, but it refused to budge even under the harshest of her kicks. “Cyclone!” Typhoon shouted as she squirmed beneath the wood. “Cyclone, where are you?!” She looked up, and there she could see her brother circling wide around the clearing. Seeing his sister trapped beneath the smoldering wood, he quickly accelerated and fluttered down to her side. “Get this thing off of me, Cyclone!” Typhoon shouted as she pushed against the ground. Cyclone blinked. “Cyclone, what the hell are you waiting for?!” Typhoon growled. The red stallion only looked over his shoulder at the approaching unicorns. He lowered his head towards Typhoon, but instead of reaching for the wood he brought his mouth to her ear. “The Legion will honor your sacrifice for the coming empire, dear sister.” Typhoon couldn’t even process what she just heard. She struggled even harder before looking up at her brother with pleading eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked as desperation began to seep into her voice. “Brother!!” Cyclone bit down on his lip as he pulled away from Typhoon. With a curt nod, he spread his wings and shot into the air. He circled the square once or twice before disappearing into the northern night sky. “Cyclone! Cyclone, damn it!!” she screamed up at him. When he didn’t return, she lowered her head onto the ground. “Cyclone…” With that short whimper, she gave up trying to force her way out of the rubble and simply sprawled herself out across the ground. Her body hurt, yes, but some bitter hollowness had devoured her heart. Her brother, her own brother and closest friend, had left her to die. The broken mare barely moved as she saw a blue hoof step into her line of vision. Instead she slowly angled her sad eyes upwards to see the figure standing over her. Jewel, clad in Diamond Guard armor, simply sneered back and lit his horn. > Chapter 14: A Trial of Ice > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 14: A Trial of Ice Twilight had no real idea at exactly what time the sun had dawned. It was simply impossible to see the yellow orb beneath the curtain of gray clouds and white snow. All she knew was that the world had inched its way out of the dark and into marginal brightness at some point, technically qualifying for what most considered a ‘day’. She yawned quietly and looked around, still struggling to blink out the drowsiness that the frigid cold and her lack of sleep had bestowed upon her. Rainbow Dash shambled along by her side, obviously suffering from sleeplessness more so than herself. Ahead of them, Safe Haven scouted through the snow and ice, the hilt of his sword just ever so slightly drawn against his side. Twilight grumbled and reluctantly accelerated her pace to come within a few feet of the stallion. Most of his cocoa fur was hidden underneath layers and layers of coats and jackets, but his neck and jawline were barren and exposed to the harsh elements. A peculiar beard of frozen alcohol and spittle had attached itself to his chin, and Haven occasionally ran a numb hoof over the irritating appendage. “How’s that working out for you?!” she asked, probably louder than she needed to, but the hood she wore over her ears muffled most of her own voice. “Funny,” he replied without turning his head. “At least if the vargr come back I’ll be ready to grab my sword and fight, instead of having to undress first.” Somewhere behind them, Rainbow Dash giggled. Safe Haven only rolled his eyes and huddled down at the top of a hill. “I still don’t understand why we couldn’t have just gone south,” Twilight insisted as she huddled down next to him. “Why do we have to go away from civilization? I mean, sure, you’re with the rebels, but I didn’t see any wanted posters with your name on them in Saraneighvo.” “This isn’t like in those westerns about San Palomino with the cowponies and such. I do my best to keep my outlaw status a secret.” He sighed and scratched at his chin again. “Of course, that’s a little harder now that I came face to face with Serp and swung a sword at him. I reckon any Black Cloak that sees me is bound to know who I am now.” Twilight gently pushed an errant strand of her mane from her eyes, wishing for the hundredth time that she had taken the effort to properly tuck it behind her hood when she first put it on. “Right, but couldn’t you have just brought us to the city limits and then left to go galumphing through the snow with the rest of your rebel buddies?” “Tell me; would you rather or rather not be interrogated by Serp and then held in a cell in Stalliongrad for a week before the Princess can get you passage home?” “They wouldn’t do that!” Twilight protested. “They’re the Domain’s police force! They’re sworn to protect the weak and helpless!” Safe Haven laughed quietly. “You really believe that… I thought you would. I can’t blame you; Canterlot’s quite a deal safer than Stalliongrad.” “Whadda ya mean by that?” Rainbow Dash piped up as she reclined her back on a snow bank opposite the two unicorns. “Don’t the Princesses make sure that life’s all cheery and safe across all of Equestria?” “Tell me, Rainbow Dash,” Haven calmly replied, “did life seem cheery and happy to you in Saraneighvo?” “Well…” She paused and massaged one of her wings with a protected hoof. “They could’ve been just a little more chill.” Haven groaned and placed a hoof to his brow. Rainbow Dash rose an eyebrow, obviously not understanding what she had just said. “What? I’m pretty sure if you guys just removed the sticks up your asses and worked together, you’d be fine.” “The problem is, it’s hard to do that when Saraneighvo is the poorest, most oppressed city in the Domain, not to mention all of Equestria.” Twilight shifted her haunches slightly. “It would probably be a whole lot better if you ponies just obeyed the law and lived in harmony with each other.” “Easy enough for you two to say when you’re both Bearers.” Gently pulling his sword out of its sheath with his Arcana, Haven slowly looked the blade up and down. “You know how the rebellion began, and why ponies continue to fight to this day?” Both Bearers shook their heads. Stretching himself out into a little hollow against a snow bank, Safe Haven let out a breath. “Well, it’s only another hour’s walk to where we’re getting to, so I suppose there’s time for a history lesson. So, where to begin? I suppose we should probably start with the Blizzard Revolution. “The Revolution was around five years ago. I was twenty-five then. Baron Frostbite ruled the Domain like a proper noble; keeping himself rich and well-fed while the rest of us commoners suffered and starved. My family was slightly better off. My father was the head farmer at a little village outside of Saraneighvo. The farmer bastard who married a unicorn. He sure was lucky for being a commoner under Frostbite, especially considering Saraneighvo was even more of a smear of poverty on the northern shoreline then. “I loved my father. My mother too. She was the one who taught me my Equiish.” He smiled and shook his head, gazing into the distance. “How a proper Trottingham mare ever fell in love with a poor Stalliongradi farmer, I have no idea. But she wasn’t going to let a little cold have the best of her.” Haven coughed and tapped a hoof on the snow bank. “Right. Eventually, ponies started getting tired of Frostbite’s rule. Those on the fringe territories began to take up arms against him; nothing too major or organized, but most of the farmers stopped sending food to Stalliongrad in protest. My father was one of them. Things got… complicated, fast.” Haven looked off to the distance and took a deep breath before continuing. “Frostbite was determined to hold onto his rule. When the fringe territories revolted, he crushed them in a bloody massacre. Dozens, if not hundreds of ponies died. My father was one of them. They came in the middle of the night and executed him and my mother and burned down everything. I was lucky enough to escape, and I found myself in with a bunch of ponies who were just like me. They too had lost family and loved ones to Frostbite, and we were all looking to make them pay. “Even so, us backcountry farmers had no chance against Frostbite’s trained army. Uprising after uprising was crushed and silenced. Eventually, when things got bad enough, ponies from Frostbite’s government turned against him and came to our aid. Now, we had a real revolution on our hooves. “I remember my first real battle. I was terrified, scared beyond belief, but I knew how to use a sword.” With that, he held up the sword and slid it back into its scabbard. “I won’t get into the details of the fighting, but in the course of two years, the revolution found strong leaders in the ponies Stoikaja and Roscherk Krovyu. I don’t know their Equiish names, but they gave the revolutionaries training and tactics that helped us defeat Baron Frostbite. In the wake of the baron, Tsar Watchful Eye, the alicorn ruler of the Domain, and his sons took over. His sons, Roscherk and Polnoch, as well as Stoikaja, became commandants of the military. Roscherk was the one that was trained by the Honor Guard captain.” “Yes, I’ve read about all this in the Canterlot libraries,” Twilight interrupted, “but if you finally overthrew Frostbite, why would you then turn your back on the new rulers and rebel against them?” “Remember how I said things got complicated, fast?” Twilight nodded. Haven exhaled through his nostrils. “It only got even more so when the Revolution was finished. There were those who wanted to split off the spoils of war to the soldiers who did the most fighting. Commandant Roscherk Krovyu was particularly emphatic about this. Others, however, did not see it his way. They wanted the Baron’s land and wealth to go to those who needed it most—simple farmers and refugees who had their lives destroyed by Frostbite’s rule. I fell into the latter camp. “I had nothing after the war; I didn’t particularly like serving with the police, and all I wanted to do was return to Saraneighvo and try to scrape some sort of living back together on what was left of my parents’ farm. Money came for a little while from the capital. Those who opposed Roscherk were more numerous and powerful than he. Then their leaders “died”. One of them was Roscherk’s brother, Polnoch, or ‘Midnight’ in Equiish. Suddenly, I and several thousand other farmers across the Domain had nothing, and Roscherk had the entire police force under his hoof. It adopted the name ‘Black Cloaks’ shortly thereafter in honor of the jacket the commandant always wears. ” The stallion stared off into the distance before climbing to his hooves. “With a little funding from ponies who particularly didn’t like this change in dynamic, I signed on with the rebellion, opened a tavern in Saraneighvo, and gave my fellow brothers in arms some much needed shelter and information. Well, until it got burnt down, that is.” “Hey, I told you about a hundred times that I’m sorry for that,” Rainbow grumbled as she began to walk after him. “Actually, it was more like seven.” “Yeah, well, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Rainbow,” Haven assured her. “I doubt the inn would have been left standing after the coup anyways. It’s just unfortunate that Serp interrupted us on the night that it was planned to happen. Otherwise, we would have had his head and a sizeable chunk of land to work with. It would have tied down the Commandant’s Black Cloaks in the north, allowing us to go after Trotsylvania in the south.” Twilight up to this point had been uncharacteristically silent, her unease tying her lips shut. On the one hoof, she was consorting with an outlaw of the state, and was allowing said criminal to lead her to someplace she had never heard of before. On the other, Haven was her friend, and that knowledge outdated knowing he was a rebel by several days. Rainbow Dash seemed to have no qualms about their current relationship with Haven. He promised them food, safety and shelter; what was there to complain about? Instead, she walked happily by his side, rambling about the Wonderbolts or her grandfather. Safe Haven returned her comments and conversation, but he kept glancing over his shoulder to where Twilight trotted behind them, concern written across his face. After Rainbow had worn her voice out with chatter, the stallion slowed his pace until Twilight caught up with him. The two unicorns walked in silence with nothing but the wind to speak for them. Eventually, Haven decided to try and break the ice with a painfully blunt observation: “You don’t trust me.” “Trust you?” Twilight replied as she subconsciously took a step away. “You’re an outlaw! How do I know you’re not taking me someplace away from civilization so you can ransom me to the Princess?” Haven cringed as if Twilight’s words had physically struck him. “Because you’re my friend, Twilight. At least, I consider you to be a friend. I hope you do as well.” The wind filled the silence with its jeering. “I understand why you don’t trust me,” Haven continued. “Especially considering what you saw back in Saraneighvo. But I also think you’re being naïve. Life isn’t a book, Twilight. Morals are a lot grayer outside of Canterlot. Just because I’m aligned against my government does not mean that I’m an evil pony. And just because a pony works for the law doesn’t mean that they’re righteous.” “It’s just…” Twilight shook her head, sending a hundred tiny snowflakes scattering from her hood. “This is all more than I bargained for. I just came to Saraneighvo to do a little research, not get caught up in a bloody, gruesome rebellion.” Haven sidestepped a little closer to Twilight and breathed a small sigh of relief when she didn’t draw away. “I know, and I’m doing all I can to make sure that you don’t have to get any more tangled in it than you already are. We’ll get you out of here before the month’s end.” Rainbow Dash had apparently become unsure of where to go, and she quietly dropped back to let Haven retake the lead. Together, the three ponies trotted on in a small wedge formation. “Haven?” Twilight began. “Can I ask you a question?” The stallion lightly bit on his tongue and steeled himself for one of the many lethal daggers mares preceded with that statement. “Of course.” “Where exactly are we going, if we’re not heading south to Stalliongrad?” Haven released his breath in one relived sigh. “We’re heading west to Coltpenhagen.” “Coltpenhagen? I thought that town was burnt down in the Revolution.” “I wasn’t there, but I can tell you that it wasn’t the first time the town’s been burnt down.” As the ponies ascended a rather steep hill, Haven began to separate his words into pairs denoted with a huff between each. “Us rebels kind of made it a base of operations after the Revolution. We should be coming across it any minute now.” With several last agonizing strides, the trio of ponies climbed the snowy slope and looked out across a shallow valley in front of them. While most of the surrounding countryside was as bleak and as white as ever, one particular smear of inky black ash stood out in stark contrast to the snowy land around it. Every building was at least half razed, and there wasn’t a wall that had virgin paint unmarred by gray ash. Gnarled and twisted trees and brush added to the dreary landscape as a testament to failed life. On the remains of several charcoal buildings were simple banners worn ragged by the wind and ice and snow. At this distance, it was impossible to see any sort of movement that signified life. One landmark in particular stood out from the rest of its charred brethren. In the very center of the remains of the town was a looming castle of black stone, even darker than coal. Its ramparts were rounded and withered from age and fire, and the walls were blanketed in thick and heavy lichens. Small piles of rubble lining the base of its walls testified to siege after siege that had plagued the behemoth throughout its life. “Is that… Onyx Ridge?” Twilight breathed, her eyes growing wider the longer she stared. Haven shook his head. “I’m afraid not. This is simply called Castle Black. If this ‘Onyx Ridge’ is what I think you’re referring to, we’re about a hundred or so miles east of it. It’s overrun with feral beasts and vargr; both us and the Black Cloaks try to stay away from it.” “Hey, wait a minute,” Rainbow Dash chimed in. “Coltpenhagen? That sounds a lot like a town from Hurricane mentioned in his journal.” “You’re right,” Twilight breathed as she pulled out the book. With a quick flutter of pages she located the appropriate chapter. “He mentioned a town called Coal Hagen that the deserter Streak Wing burnt down long ago.” “Is that so?” Haven asked. “I always wondered why Coltpenhagen was called the Thrice-Burnt City when as far as anypony could tell it had only been burned twice; once during the Dragon Wars and again by Roscherk’s doing in the Revolution. Anyhow, come. There are warm meals and beds waiting for you all in town.” The trio of ponies began to descend the slope of the hill into the bowl that held Coltpenhagen. As they did so, the air only became colder and the winds fiercer. Even Rainbow Dash seemed to be having trouble resisting the cold despite her pegasus blood. Eventually, they came to a point where Twilight could hardly think with the pounding headache she was getting. “What… is this?” she asked, raising a hoof to her head. As she did so, she accidentally dropped one of her notebooks onto the snow. She tried to pick it up with her Arcana, but instead of responding to her wishes her horn only spiked her skull with pain that quickly resided into a dull ache. Even Haven was grimacing as he turned to face Twilight. “It’s something to do with the land. Coltpenhagen’s been a mining town for as long as its been around. They used to just extract coal and shale, but then Frostbite found something else in the ground. I don’t know what it is, but it absolutely thrives off of devouring magic.” “Void crystals, perhaps?” Twilight suggested. “The Crystal warlords that used to inhabit this land apparently had easy access to them.” “Sombra’s crystals?” Haven replied with skepticism. “I don’t know about that, and I certainly haven’t ever heard of Crystal ponies living in the Domain before, but Frostbite stockpiled these rocks around town. For what reason we’ll never know why. Roscherk destroyed those stockpiles when he burnt down the town to drive out Frostbite’s soldiers. They say the crystals detonated and scattered ash into the air that leeches off of any creature’s magic. Don’t worry; the pain goes away after a day as your body becomes acclimated to the poison.” They eventually found their way into what was once a main street. Guiding them past building after abandoned building, Haven wound through the sideroads to a rather large tavern about two streets away from Castle Black. There Twilight could see the soft yellows of muted oil lamps spilling through the windows onto the road around them. She could also hear drunken laughter, something she hadn’t heard for several days straight. With a knock on the door, Haven unlatched the heavy oak and pushed it open. Warm air and aromatic smells instantly assaulted the weary Equestrians as he ushered them inside. Only after he walked in as well and shut the door did he turn and offer them a smile. “Welcome to the rebellion.” ----- “It can’t be,” Hurricane snarled under his breath. Leaving the flag pole behind, he quickly galloped to Pan Sea’s side and peered over the edge. At first, all he saw was gray stone and green fields rolling in the midday breeze. Gritting his teeth, he leaned further over the edge and looked straight down. Princess Platinum and Clover the Clever were staring back at him with hostility and surprise, respectively. As soon as Platinum saw Hurricane’s face, her features contorted into hate, and she took several steps backwards to try and distance herself from the Commander. “Commander Hurricane!” Platinum spat as she came to a stop. “What in the blazes of Tartarus are you doing here on sovereign unicorn land?!” “Unicorn lands?” Hurricane began, his wing crests dangerously pulling away from his shoulders. Although the body language was distinctly pegasus, it carried enough intimidation to accurately convey the threat to the Princess. “By what right?” Platinum raised a dainty hoof off of the ground and dangled it as some sort of shield in front of her chest as she backpedaled once more. Both her and Clover had started to tremble under Hurricane’s stare, and it took the nervous princess several seconds to steady her voice. “By right of royal decree, in the name of King Lapis and all the great kings before him, these lands are exclusive domain of the Diamond Kingdom and all its citizens. We—” “You invoke the name of your father as right to claim land?” Hurricane harshly interrupted. “By the divine blessings of the gods, this land and the skies above belong to the Cirran Empire. From now until the end of time, the Legion is sworn to protect this piece of territory as part of its own through blood and steel. And there is no greater Legionnaire than I.” With a shower of sparks from his wingtips, Hurricane accentuated his claim with a threatening display of Empatha. Platinum took another step back, and a sudden gust of wind alerted her to just how close to the edge of the hill she was walking. Gulping down fear and just a little bit of air, she quickly placed Clover in front of herself with her Arcana. “You mean to attack royalty? How barbaric! Clover, please, discipline this pegasus hothead.” Clover took one look at Commander Hurricane’s fierce figure and bit down on her lip. “Uh… Princess? I don’t think fighting is the best way to go about it.” “Clover the Clever!” Platinum exclaimed, her expression turning to one of abject horror. “You mean to abandon this new land we found to the pegasi just to avoid a fight?!” “Whadda ya mean, your land?!” All four ponies on the hillside turned to locate the obnoxious voice rising up from the field below. There, awfully tiny from the distance, Hurricane could see two ponies standing next to a flag planted firmly in the mud. Both of them wore earth pony garb, and the larger of the two had the dumbest looking hat Hurricane had ever seen affixed to his head. “Chancellor Puddinghead?” he murmured to himself. When a second look confirmed his suspicions, Hurricane simply pinched his hoof to his brow and sighed. This was exactly the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. Ever quick to the point, Platinum turned her attention from Hurricane and Pan Sea to Puddinghead and Smart Cookie. “Chancellor, Representative, just what exactly are you doing here in the sovereign territory of the Diamond Kingdom?” “The Diamond Kingdom?! More like… uh…” Puddinghead’s eyes searched the horizon for his answer before resettling on the Princess’ regal figure. “More like Shmiamond Shmingdom! Yeah! These fields are all part of the Low Nine-and-Three-Quarters Valleys! No unicorns or pegasi allowed!” Smart Cookie groaned and buried his face in his hat. “You can’t make laws in territory you don’t own!” Platinum protested. “You have to have authority and a well-defined nobility to make and uphold laws!” “Believe me, it takes a lot less than that,” Hurricane countered. With a few slow flaps of his wings, the pegasus fluttered down to Platinum’s level. “Laws are no different from Kingdoms and Empires; without force to back them up, nopony cares what you say or do.” With a very blunt nod to the hilt of his sword, he advanced another step towards the annoying unicorn. “As far as I can tell, I’m the only one here with any means of showing force. Now, I’m going to be reasonable and ask you to go elsewhere and find your own damn land. The pegasi have travelled far enough. This land is ours.” Although somewhat fazed by Hurricane’s words, Platinum nevertheless trotted right up to him and stood nose to nose with the pegasus commander. “Now you listen here, Hurricane, I am a princess. I answer to nopony except for my father. When I say something is mine, that thing is mine.” Withdrawing with a small smirk to her face, she leered back at Hurricane. “Of course, I wouldn’t understand you barbaric pegasi to understand nobility and royalty. All you know is war and killing each other. Great will be the day when your kind kills itself off with your bloodlust, while us, the unicorns, sit and watch it all from our comfy castles built onto little hilltops like this one.” “Tell me,” Hurricane replied softly, his words dripping venom. “Do you recall what happened at Coal Hagen? Do you recall what happens if you piss on the honor of pegasi less restrained than I am?” Down below, Puddinghead had been simmering the whole time. Finally, after being ignored for far too long, his anger boiled over and quite literally launched his hat skywards. “Hey! Stop arguing up there and come down here where I can join in! The earth ponies will not be left out like every other time before!!” Both Hurricane and Platinum paused their argument to glare at Puddinghead before returning to trying to shout louder than their opponent. Meanwhile, Clover the Clever, Pan Sea, and Smart Cookie all stood awkwardly in the background by their respective leaders. As the shouting only continued to increase in volume, Clover took a deep breath and forced her way between Hurricane and Platinum. “Enough!” she shouted as she pushed Platinum away and (attempted to) shove Hurricane back. “Stop bickering like foals! Perhaps if we just calmed down…” Smart Cookie took a step closer towards the hill, pointedly placing himself between Puddinghead and the rest of the leaders. “I agree. Let’s all just take a deep breath and relax.” Pan Sea looked at all the ponies separately before meekly chiming in: “I vote for calm.” Hurricane turned to glare at Pan Sea, causing the pegasus to cower, before returning his steely gaze towards Platinum. “There can be no calm while she’s around.” Thunder rumbled in the distance, accompanied by a rush of wind. Platinum hardly seemed to notice as she leaned back into Hurricane’s face. “You’re the one causing all the problems, pegasus. You’re so anxious to take your daily bath in blood that you’ve lost all reasonable thought. Things would be so much easier if you just sat back and bowed to true royalty like you’re supposed to!” “Hey!” Puddinghead shouted from below. “You’re not MY princess! You’re only the princess of the unicorns! I’m the leader of the earth ponies, fairly elected with absolutely no voter fraud whatsoever!” “Is that why there was only one name on the ballot?” Smart Cookie mumbled. “Exactly! Now, if we’re gonna be talking about real authority here, you should just look to me! See? I’ve got the biggest hat out of all of you!” “Gods save me,” Hurricane whispered before pushing Platinum and Clover aside to walk to the edge of the rocky outcrop. “Chancellor Puddinghead, for the last time, hat size has nothing to do with political prowess!” “That’s what royal blood is for!” Platinum called out over his shoulder. “That’s what demonstrating you’re a worthy leader is for!” Hurricane retorted. “Guys, seriously!” Clover shouted. “None of you are acting like worthy leaders! Just stop and calm down! Maybe we can think this through—” Clover’s words were lost to her shock as a solid wad of cold ice and snow promptly smacked her across the muzzle. After a few stunned seconds, she shook the snow off of her face and glared towards the ground where Puddinghead was gathering another snowball. “Ha! About time she shut up!” Puddinghead cheered to Smart Cookie, who was sharing none of the Chancellor’s enthusiasm. Instead the Representative was looking around wildly at the sudden appearance of snow. “What in the name of…” Pan Sea began as he too looked around him. With a nervous gulp, he, Hurricane, and the rest of the ponies on the hill tilted their heads back to see the sky above them. Instead of clear blue and cheery sunshine, swirling and angry clouds of gray and black hovered over their heads, spewing snow and sleet onto the ground below. Somewhere, the howling of some sort of demon spilled out across the land. All six ponies quickly abandoned their arguments to look up in fear at the suddenly gray and dying world around them. In but a few short seconds, the paradise they had been so happy to find had been stolen from them. Now it was swiftly becoming just like the Compact lands. Gray. Bleak. Cold. As they quickly scrambled for shelter, each one asked their gods why. Nopony received an answer. ----- Swift Spear started in her bed, a cold sweat running down her face. Her breathing was hyperventilated, and her limbs trembled as she rose up from under the heavy covers. Stumbling out of bed, she managed to make her way to the washroom, where she splashed cold water on her face. It was just a nightmare. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except this one was out of the ordinary. Whenever she had nightmares, Swift dreamt of the Red Cloud war. Nimbus, Feathertop, the time she was pursued by griffons, all were regular guests in her subconscious mind. Sometimes, even Fire Star would make his way into her head and haunt her dreams. Those intrusions were thankfully few and far between, but even they would have been much more welcoming than what she had just seen. “Just a dream,” she muttered to herself as she made her way back to bed. Her right wing brushed against the wall as she leaned on it for support. “Just a dream. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. It’s not real.” Even as she settled back into the covers, some maternal instinct kept her awake. She would not find sleep again as she stared at the ceiling while the room gradually brightened in miniscule increments. When the gray light that was supposedly the sun finally pierced through her bedroom window, she blinked for the first time in what felt like hours. There was a knock on the door, and Swift’s wings propelled her off of the mattress and nearly a foot into the air before she landed uncomfortably on her side. Gathering her frayed wits about her, she spoke to the cloudstone portal with firm authority. “What is it?” The soldier’s voice on the other side carried no emotion with it. “Imperator Swift Spear, ma’am, Imperator Secundus Cyclone has returned from his mission in River Rock.” Swift’s wings tensed up. “And Typhoon?” The noticeable pause felt like an eternity. Eventually the soldier responded noncommittally: “Imperator Secundus Cyclone wishes to meet with you in the throne room.” Swift Spear wanted to growl at the Praetorian but her worry suppressed it. With a weak grunt, she slid out of bed and walked over to her armor stand. Taking the cuirass off of the mannequin, she carefully slid her wings through the holes in the skysteel and draped the armor over her body. After that, she slid her legs into the shin guards and fastened them down. Next, she stripped the wingblades from the mannequin’s sides and placed the assembly over each wing, taking extra care to fasten down the skysteel scales as tight as she could manage. When that was done, she walked towards a rack hanging on the wall. The simple wood held several weapons, from swords and wingblades to spears both long and short. With a forlorn sigh, Swift passed her eyes over her husband’s swords on the right until she settled them on a long spear hanging on the extreme left of the carpentry. Lifting the weapon off of its rack, Swift’s neck almost dropped to the floor with the sudden weight of the pure nimbus skysteel in her jaws. With a careful twirl, she tucked the weapon under her left wing and opened the door. The Praetorian standing outside of her door saluted and stood aside so she could pass. Still troubling, however, was how his eyes followed her as she walked. They watched her every step and read all of her subconscious body language until Swift was finally able to put the corner of the hall between herself and the officer. As she passed more guards on her way to the throne room, Swift took a deep breath and swallowed sharply. The Praetorian was getting restless. Cirra needed Hurricane back now. The doors to the throne room were already ajar when she approached them, and the Legionnaires standing outside had worried looks on their faces. The steady pacing of angry hooves and the occasional crack of cloudstone from within gave Swift a good idea of what they were afraid of. “Cyclone!” she shouted. Her voice was commanding, but it did little to stop the raging pegasus inside. “Damn them!” Cyclone spat as he made his way to another column. With a single punch from his foreleg, he put a crack into the cloudstone. Bits of white vapor escaped as the fiery Empatha running across his wings and limbs melted the mortar. As soon as the column yielded and acknowledged his superiority, Cyclone tore off his helmet and flung it at another column. “Damn them all to hell!!” Swift winced as the helmet struck the pillar and then stayed there, lodged about two inches into the cloudstone. “Cyclone! Cyclone, what happened?!” Cyclone turned to look at Swift. There was an incredible amount of hatred in his eyes, but Swift could tell that it wasn’t for her. Furthermore, there was a tinge of hurt behind the flames of his rage that showed through, no matter how much he tried to cover it. “Typhoon!” he shouted back. His voice wavered ever so slightly at the end, and it sent a chill through Swift’s spine. Her nightmare suddenly came back to her. “No…” she whispered. With a flutter of her wings, she galloped over to Cyclone and placed her hooves on his shoulders. “No… she isn’t… she’s not…” “Dead?” Cyclone breathed. Lowering his head, he gave it a few shakes before focusing his attention on his hooves. “No. She’s not dead.” Swift nearly collapsed. A smile came to her face, but along with it was an empire’s worth of apprehension. “Then what happened? Tell me.” Cyclone took a deep breath and stepped away. With a few angry shakes of his wings he was able to flick most of the sparks and tongues of fire out of his feathers. Only when he stopped in front of the massive panoramic window and placed his hooves on the sill did he begin to speak. “We were in River Rock. We went to Star Swirl’s house, no problem. We gave him the book, which he said he could translate for us. He asked for us to stay while he went upstairs to get some notes to work on the language.” There was a pause, and in that time, Cyclone’s wings suddenly stiffened against his sides. “We sat there for five, maybe ten minutes, waiting for him to return. Just as we were starting to get impatient…” He stopped and lowered his head. Swift Spear took a step closer to him. “What happened? Cyclone, please, tell me everything.” Cyclone took a breath and raised his head. Steam began to swirl from his wingtips as his Empatha returned to them. “The bastard betrayed us. The street was absolutely swarming with Diamond Guards. We fought our way out. Tried to fly off, but a unicorn clipped Typhoon’s wing with some magic. I was airborne at the time, and I saw her fall. I… I tried to go after her. I landed and immediately began cutting apart every last one of the horned bastards in my way.” He paused to wet his lips and grit his teeth against each other. “There were too many. I couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t save her. It’s my fault. All my fault.” Swift bit down on her hoof and looked off to the side. “Star Swirl… he would never… he’s been friends with Hurricane for as long as we’ve been here. I can’t believe—” Cyclone spun around, his entire body igniting into an inferno. “If he didn’t, why isn’t Typhoon standing here with me?! If he didn’t, how did the Diamond Guard find us and attack us?!” He took several fiery steps towards his mother and spat on the ground. “I don’t care if Star Swirl was father’s friend or his Gods damned uncle! He’s a horn, and when the horns aligned against us, I should have known he was going to as well!” “Cyclone!” Swift commanded. The fireball of a pegasus turned to glare at her before finally cutting off his Empatha. With a reassuring wing, she touched her son’s shoulder. “I’ll have Twister go and visit King Lapis tomorrow. With any luck, she’ll get this whole mess sorted out, and we’ll get Typhoon back.” The stallion’s next words were uncharacteristically soft. “Diplomacy is dead, Imperator. We need to get Typhoon back now. There’s only one way that a true Legionnaire does that.” Swift Spear stepped back and steeled her gaze against Cyclone’s. “No. We will not.” Cyclone met Swift’s gaze with as much resolve. “They will kill her. If we don’t act now, she will die.” “No. She will not.” Cyclone bared his teeth against Swift. When the mare remained unmoved, he closed his lips and gave her a short nod. “Her death is on your hooves.” Without so much as a second glance, Cyclone pushed Swift Spear aside and walked straight out of the door. The heavy wood closed with a resounding thud, leaving the mare alone inside the throne room. She finally gave in and collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down her face. Outside, Cyclone stopped next to a pair of Praetorians.  With a single nod, he turned and pulled two red feathers out of his wing. He handed one to each soldier, and as the pegasi took them they saluted their donor. “Gather the others,” he commanded. “No more games. If we wait much longer we lose our window.” The Praetorian Guards saluted with their wings before splitting in opposite directions away from Cyclone. The red pegasus waited until they had gone before taking a deep breath and throwing open the doors to the palace. With a snap of his wings, he lit himself on fire and began to fly towards the south. As he did so, dark shadows all across Cloudsdale flew up from the buildings to meet him and began to follow. ----- “Are you sure there isn’t something else around here?!” Hurricane chomped down on the end of his words and raised a wing across his face in a desperate struggle to keep the sleet out of his eyes. Around him stood the four leaders of the other nations, while Pan Sea hovered in front of a gaping cave entrance. “Yes sir, I checked everywhere, sir,” Pan Sea shouted through the wind. “There’s nothing for miles other than this cave, and it’s getting awfully cold. I say we just wait it out until the front of the storm has passed, and then we can go looking for new land… sir.” The Commander cursed and spat at the ground. There was a loud crackling sound and a large clump of ice embedded itself in the snow by his hoof. It was so cold that spittle was freezing over before it hit the ground. Around him, the leaders of the Low Valleys and the Diamond Kingdom were shaking in their outfits. “Alright,” he called into the wind. “Everypony pile in if you don’t want to freeze to death! We’ll wait out the storm and then I’ll be on my way back to Cloudsdale.” “And for what reason would you do that, Commander?” Platinum challenged as she stood in front of him. “Don’t you still have to find a new land?” Puddinghead literally burst up from the ground between the two leaders, sending both stumbling backwards. “Hey! I don’t know what you’re implying, but stop implying that the Low Lakes are yours! They’re sovereign territory of ME!” Smart Cookie simply walked past the leaders along with Clover and Pan Sea into the cave. “There aren’t even any lakes around here, Chancellor,” he called over his shoulder. “I don’t care! These fjords are mine! All mine!” With a glare, Hurricane separated himself from the other leaders and began to walk into the cave. “If either of you survive the night, I must have done something to piss off the Gods.” “I already know the Gods are punishing me for not raising taxes last year,” Platinum grumbled. “It was a hard decision, but I caved under the pressure and kept them where they were at. I knew that three percent hike would have made all the difference in the world!” “Heck, I don’t know what the Gods have against me!” Puddinghead chirped as he bounded into the cave ahead of Platinum. “I must not have thrown enough parties for their liking! Do you think I can pull off a ‘This is a cave’ party? Oh, wait, why am I asking you? Unicorns never have fun!” Platinum growled and briefly bared her teeth before deciding to simply abandon the argument with Puddinghead. The three leaders entered the cave to find their subordinates clustered awkwardly in the center, each one reluctantly avoiding the gaze of their compatriots. With pointed purpose, each of the three found a side of the cave as far away as possible from the other two and beckoned their companions over. Not a word was spoken for at least a good five minutes. The only sounds were the howling of the winds through the cave mouth and the breathing of the ponies inside, with the occasional grumble or squeak from the Princess. After ten minutes, Hurricane stood up and began to walk the length of the cave. His hooves made a steady clop clop clop against the stone to counter the roaring of the wind outside. All the other ponies in the room simply watched him, silent. A few chunks of hail skittered across the stone floor. Hurricane slowly made his way to the open maw of the cave and stared into the storm. The blizzard had struck so fast that visibility had dropped to just a matter of feet in little more than fifteen minutes. As he stood there, a chilly gust washed over his body. His feathers made an odd crinkling sound as they brushed over each other in an effort to conserve heat. After fifteen minutes, Hurricane left the cave entrance and continued to traverse the length of the entire room. His journey took him past Chancellor Puddinghead, who simply glared at the Commander and stuck his tongue out. Hurricane, in response, didn’t respond. He continued onwards, his hooves still etching out the clop clop clop that echoed throughout the cave. When he neared Platinum, however, the Princess made it a point to recline against the wall and block his path. Hurricane’s lip twitched, and he began to move around Platinum, making sure to cross directly over her legs as he passed. “Please, Commander Hothead.” Hurricane paused less than a foot away from Platinum and responded without turning his head. “It’s Commander Hurricane.” Platinum sneered and placed extra emphasis on clearing her throat. “Please, Commander, could you just stand back and give me my royal space?” Hurricane twisted one hoof a fraction of an inch away from the Princess. “You mean like this, your highness?” The venom dripping from the last two words almost melted the stone underneath Hurricane’s hooves. “Indeed not!” Platinum exclaimed as she jumped to her hooves. With a rough shove, she pushed Hurricane a step back and scowled. “You see this invisible line? This,” she gestured with flailing hooves, “This land belongs exclusively to the Diamond Kingdom! In fact, this very second, you are currently renting unicorn lands for your own safety. And if you continue to irritate me, Commander, I shall have you thrown out!” Hurricane stepped three paces away and turned to face Platinum. Extending both of his wings, he gestured across the entirety of the cave in one smooth motion. “Do you see all of this? These stone walls are already part of Cirra. If you think differently, then I welcome you to try and take them from me.” Puddinghead flopped up from the ground and quickly readjusted his hat. “Hey! By the Law of the Hats, I already claimed this entire continent as part of the Puddinghead Confederacy! So how about you all skedaddle!” “Your ‘Law of the Hats’ is absolutely ridiculous!” Platinum exclaimed. “Unlike earth pony customs, the ways of the unicorns are steeped in thousands of years of rich history and tradition! When a noble makes claim to the land, it is held as true in the omnipotent light of the sun and the moon and stars. No opposing claim can be made against it, for it has already been blessed by Celestis and Lunis themselves.” Hurricane slowly drew his sword and rested the tip against the ground. With practiced measure, he slowly placed his hooves on either side of the skysteel cross that made up the crossguard of the hilt. “This is not a civilized nation. In Cirra, if you wanted land, you damn well better have been ready to defend it.” Even before he finished speaking, however, Puddinghead was busy drawing a line into the dirt. As his hoof reached the stone wall, he boldly stepped on the half of the cave he had carved out. “Ya see this?! This is Earth Ponytropolisville! No flying-types or magic-types allowed!” Platinum growled and sparked her horn to life. With a powerful burst of Arcana, she enveloped Puddinghead’s body in a light blue aura and flung him against the far cave wall. “How dare you try to carve up my lands like a filthy barbarian! If you want a place to stay, how about you let the sovereign leader of these lands lay out lines for you!” Turning to look behind her, she spotted Clover sitting near Smart Cookie and Pan Sea against the far way. “Clover the Clever! Grant the serfs small parcels of land for which the Diamond Kingdom has rented to them in its overflowing generosity.” With a flick of his tail, Hurricane summoned Pan Sea to his side. “If you even think about trying to silence me with a scrap of stone and soil, we’ll find out if unicorn horns bleed magic or not. I personally think they do.” “What you’re all forgetting is that earth ponies are the masters of the dirt!” Puddinghead proudly exclaimed. “My representative Smart Cookie of the Mundane Mountains will be happy to find you seating outside of this cave!” “For the love of…” Smart Cookie muttered. “Chancellor, what is with all the names?!” Puddinghead cocked his head. “What do you mean, Smart Cookie? I’ve been calling them the Dry Dikes this entire time!” “Stupidity or not, I think we can all agree that earth ponies shouldn’t be in charge of this new land!” Platinum asserted. “And neither should a group of flying barbarians that will burn it all to the ground in less than a year!” Hurricane placed a hoof towards Platinum and began to advance. “Careful, Princess. You don’t realize how easy it would be to kill you right now and be done with it. Your father would never know either. He’d simply think it was a bandit or the cold that got you. It’s not like he actually cares whether or not you make it back alive.” “What do you mean?!” Platinum hissed as she took a trembling step backwards. “Father has only my best interests at heart!” “Then why didn’t he send some soldiers to accompany you on this journey? I think he knew very well that the princess of the Diamond Kingdoms has quite a bit of coin on her head, and that you’d be going straight through Crystal barbarian territory.” Platinum clenched her teeth and took two steps towards Hurricane. “He knew I could handle myself! We broke out of Onyx Ridge and tore it apart from the inside!” Smart Cookie sputtered and spun his head towards the princess. “WHAT?! You were at Onyx Ridge?!” “Yes,” Platinum answered as nonchalantly as possible. “What of it?” The Representative stumbled over his words several times before finally making a coherent sentence. “I was at Onyx Ridge too! I was with the Union armies that attacked the fortress and climbed the walls! I opened the gatehouses and let the rest of the army tear the place apart from inside!” Clover excitedly stepped closer to Smart Cookie. “That was you?! I knew I saw an earth pony on those walls! You were fighting alongside Commander Jade!” Smart Cookie nodded. “Aye, I was. And then the Chancellor and I helped her kill warlord Halite.” Puddinghead butted in between the two. “And it was awesome!” Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “And you all somehow survived that? How in the blazes…” “Yeah!” Puddinghead exclaimed before invading Hurricane’s personal space and putting his nose within inches of the Commander’s. “And just what exactly did you do, hmm?” “I killed a traitor.” “That hardly sounds quite so glorious,” Platinum muttered off to the side. “Streak Wing killed nearly a hundred soldiers by himself. He could have killed your ‘Commander Jade’ if he had wanted to.” The conversation stalled and fell flat. “…Pegasuses are stupid anyway.” Puddinghead’s comment was enough to resurrect the arguing. While the three leaders bickered and fought, their respective subordinates sat off to the side, watching. They glanced nervously between each other, waiting for the pivotal moment when blows would be exchanged, and the only armed one amongst them drew his sword. Before that could happen, a loud cracking noise drew their attention towards the exit of the cave. With a collective gasp, they scrambled away in shock. A solid wall of ice stretched and twisted across the entrance until it sealed the cave shut. Clover ran in between the bickering leaders and broke them up, desperately pointing towards the ice. “Look! Everypony, look! The entrance!” The leaders turned to look at the ice penetrating deeper into the cave from the frozen entrance. With shocked backtrotting, each one separated themselves from the others and came to stand near the edge of the cave wall. “Damn it!” Hurricane cursed as he slammed his sword back into its scabbard. “Gods above! We’re trapped!” “You two deserve this horrible fate!” Platinum wailed from across the room. “You’ve done nothing but argue and fight with each other!” “You’re one to talk!” Hurricane countered, leering at her. “Most of the errant screeching in this cave has come from your mouth!” “Yeah!” Puddinghead chimed in. “I haven’t been fighting nearly as much as you!” None of the three leaders noticed as the ice began to climb around their hooves. All they saw was a red haze of hatred, and no matter how much they tried they couldn’t shake it away. “How ridiculous! A unicorn never stoops to fighting!” “That’s just because your Diamond Guard is absolutely pathetic! In a real world military engagement, it could never stand up on its own!” Hurricane’s eyes slid towards Puddinghead, not seeing the ice beginning to cover the Chancellor’s body. “Even the idiot Chancellor could raise an army that would make a mockery of it!” “We don’t need an army to rule!” Platinum shouted back at him. “We aren’t totalitarian, power-hungry barbarians! The noble unicorns have no reason to stoop down to the brutish ways of the pegasi!” “Yeah, well,” Puddinghead began, “um… unicorns are snobs!” The three leaders growled at each other until, with a final cracking of ice, they were trapped as still as statues. Clover, Pan Sea, and Smart Cookie all scrambled away from the ice until they found their backs pressed against each other in the center of the cave. With hideous hissing and popping, the frozen glass only continued to slither its way closer and closer towards them. “We’re so dead!” Smart Cookie screamed. “So dead! We’re going to get all frozen over just like they did!” Pan Sea held his hooves together and gestured towards the sky. “Garuda, keeper of the Great Skies, please have mercy on my soul, for I gave my life for the Empire to ensure its safety. Garuda, keeper of the Great Skies…” Clover meanwhile tried to summon enough mana to her horn to break through the ice at the door. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated, her horn growing brighter and brighter with each passing second. She was just about to release it when a torrent of wind inside the cave blew her green mane into her face and broke her focus. Mana dissipated into the air along with hope. “How in the world…” she began. Her eyes followed the swirling clouds above her up, up, up, until they came to rest on a circuit of thunderheads upon which three ethereal horses raced. With a collective howl, the horses began to gallop faster, and the storm only worsened. Pan Sea broke off of his prayers long enough to see the creatures spiraling above him. “What… are those… demons?” “No,” Clover responded with a breath. “They’re windigos.” “Windigos?” both Pan Sea and Smart Cookie replied in worried unison. Clover nodded. “Star Swirl the Bearded taught me about them. They’re spirits of the winter that feed off of fighting and hatred. The more hate the spirit feels, the colder things become!” “Then… this is our fault,” Smart Cookie murmured. “We three tribes… we brought this blizzard to our home by fighting and not trusting each other. Now… now it’s going to destroy this land, too.” “B-but that doesn’t make s-sense!” Pan Sea stammered. “The tribes have been at each other’s throats for the past five years! Why now?! What do Grabacr’s minions want with us now?!” “Perhaps our hate was so powerful and for so long that it woke the windigos from whatever plane they slumber in,” Clover said. She flinched as the ice made contact with her hoof, and she broke it free only for its polished sheets to ensnare her other hooves. “And now our bodies will become as cold as our hearts… all because we were foolish enough to hate.” Around her, Pan Sea and Smart Cookie both stiffened as the ice fastened their hooves to the ground. They struggled briefly, but at the roaring of the demons above, it only continued to strengthen. Soon it had frozen their flanks to the ground, and a chilling numbness swept over their bodies as it began to climb their spines. After a small sigh, Pan Sea turned to look over his shoulder at Clover and Smart Cookie. “Well… I can say that I don’t hate you two. You’ve done nothing to deserve it. I think you’re both admirable ponies.” “I don’t hate you guys either,” Smart Cookie said as he pulled his chin away from the ice beginning to wrap around his neck. “It’s a shame; I would have loved to give you all a proper tour of Amber Field someday.” “And I would have liked to have shown you Castle Burning Hearth.” With a small smile, Clover tried to twist her shoulders against the ice to frame Pan Sea and Smart Cookie in her sight. “But it’ll never be. We’ll never leave this cave to see our homes again.” “But we’re all friends here, together,” Pan Sea said. “Right,” Smart Cookie affirmed. “No matter what our differences, we’re all ponies.” With sad smiles on their faces, each of the three ponies closed their eyes. The ice overcame them, crawling past chins, noses, eyes, and ears. It climbed to the tops of their skulls, finally ending just around Clover the Clever’s horn. With a final few pops and squeaks, another three immortal statues were added to the frozen wastes of the cave. And all was quiet for a long, long time. > Chapter 15: A Trial of Fire > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 15: A Trial of Fire Silence. Cold and Silence. That was all there was. Not a word, not a sigh, not a breath. The ice had stopped moving long ago. Now, there was only calm and silence inside the dark cave. The blizzard outside parted just long enough for a little bit of gray sun to pierce through the wall of ice that had blocked off the cave. What it saw was almost meaningless. Ice, ice, and more ice covered the walls and floor of the cave. It shimmered softly with the weak glow from outside. A small rustle sounded like a thunderclap as a trio of ethereal equines leered over the floor of the cave from above. Their howling was silent, and they seemed like they had finally run their hooves ragged on the ring of cloud they were racing on and had decided to give them a rest. A casual snort was exchanged between the demons as they watched, admiring their work. The work in question was six immortal statues of ice on the floor below them. Each delicate sheet of indestructible ice contained one pony, lost in time forever. In the center of the room, three such statues huddled so close together that the ice was shared between them, forming one massive case. It stretched unbroken from floor to the very tip of a unicorn horn, stopping just under two inches from the very end. Around the outside of the room were three more statues. Each of these was distant and distinct from its compatriots. One housed a bulky earth pony stallion, whose hat and regalia could be considered a crime against nature. Another held a gorgeous unicorn mare, with her lithe body and royal attire standing in stark contrast from the earth pony. Then there was a black pegasus clad in armor, frozen in place against the back wall. To Commander Hurricane, the sensation was unnaturally vivid. He would have thought that the cold would have put him to sleep instantly. He also thought that being encased solid in ice would have suffocated him. So far, in some indiscernible amount of time, neither of those two things seemed to happen. Instead, he was left painfully aware of everything going on around him. His hearing was incredibly muffled, and in the silence of the cave, it was difficult to even tell if he still had it or not, but what was much worse was his sight. The ice had frozen his eyes open, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t blink or look anywhere else. His eyes were focused on Princess Platinum’s face, and they seemed like they would be for all of eternity. THUMP. Thump. THUMP. Thump. The noise echoed in his head in a frightening rhythmic pattern, and it took Hurricane a while to realize why. It was his own heartbeat, each beat magnified several hundred times in his ears and dragged out to an incredibly slow pulse. With a few seconds of concentration, he figured he was doing only fifteen beats per minute. Platinum’s face continued to scowl back at him from underneath her own icy tomb. With that, Hurricane decided enough was enough. He needed to get out of this prison; if not for his own health, then certainly for his sanity. He quickly tested each of his limbs and found that the muscles responded even if he couldn’t move them. That was fine. He was a pegasus, and that meant fire Empatha. If he could have, Hurricane would’ve closed his eyes as he struggled to summon the Empatha needed to his wings. Just a few tongues of fire should be enough to melt the ice and give him some room to work with. From there, he could focus his magic to the rest of his body and finally escape from the icy tomb as a blazing torch. Unfortunately, the plan fell apart when Hurricane found that his mana refused to move through his limbs. In fact, it didn’t seem to be present at all. Hurricane mentally cursed and switched his attention to his limbs. It looked like he would have to break out the hard way. It was odd to start a physical exertion without any sort of deep breath or grunt to begin, but Hurricane poured all the strength he had into his powerful neck muscles. If he could separate his head from the ice, it would at least afford him the chance to breathe and think… not to mention blink. His eyes were desperately calling out to look at something else, and the ice pressed against them made him want to cry. His own dull heartbeat began to climb with the exertion, yet even then, it was still much slower than normal. If he could grit his teeth, Hurricane would have, but there wasn’t much leeway to do so. Instead he simply strained and strained, feeling the tension knot up in his neck. After fifteen seconds of struggling, he was rewarded with a small crack that shifted his vision by a few inches. He found that with a little effort, he could move his neck by a few degrees. It was a start at least. He began to apply himself more and more to breaking the ice around his neck. Each strain and each little pop or crack pushed his heartbeat up by a few points. By the time it was absolutely roaring in his ears, deafening him to all the progress he was making on the ice, he had put dozens of tiny cracks into the ice around his face and neck, but nothing more. He could twist or move his neck side to side for about an inch, maybe two. And now he really, really, needed to breathe. Panic began to well up inside of him, and he started to thrash harder within his shell to try and break free. The efforts only left him exhausted, and without his Empatha to help him, he couldn’t break free. His thoughts wandered to the Gods, and he began to make his final peace with them. Then several bright, pink sparks illuminated the room and danced across his petrified eyes. If Hurricane could have winced, he would have, the light was so intense. In the darkness of the cave, the sparks blazed like wildfire. He could just see out of the corner of his vision where they were coming from; the little stub of Clover’s horn that protruded from the ice. Each little pinprick of light was accompanied by a crack and sizzle. Muffled as they were under the ice, Hurricane could still hear them over the pounding of his heart. As the light began to intensify in the cave, angry snorting echoed off the walls just above Hurricane’s head. Loose shards of ice and snow began to swirl around the cave floor, and the icy chill redoubled against Hurricane’s frozen coat. Try as they might, however, Grabacr’s minions couldn’t stop the fire from growing in strength. There was a hum of gathering mana, and Hurricane braced himself as best he could for what followed. As the demons above roared and whirled, the pink fire coming from Clover’s horn grew and grew until it ripped free from her horn and tore upwards. With a sudden explosion of heat, the fire formed into a heart and slammed the windigos against the cave walls. Each of the demonic horses shrieked and writhed in agony as the temperature quickly climbed. With one final shockwave, the heart dissolved into the walls of the cave as the windigos slumped onto the floor. With renewed vigor, Hurricane slammed his neck downwards what little he could. This time, however, the ice shattered into hundreds of brittle pieces as he did so. Even before they hit the ground they were already melting into water. With a gasp, Hurricane took a deep breath and shook his head, savoring the feeling of being able to breathe and blink his eyes again. “What was that?!” The voice belonged to private Pan Sea. Barely opening his eyes, Hurricane saw the Legionnaire standing shoulder to shoulder with Clover the Clever and Representative Smart Cookie. Each of the three ponies were shaking various shards of ice and frost from their bodies and stretching their limbs one by one as they stood together in the center. As the pink glow dulled from Clover’s horn, Smart Cookie adjusted his hat and approached her, wide-eyed. “I didn’t know unicorns could do that…” Clover raised a hoof to her horn and, feeling its warmth, shook her head and blinked several times. “I didn’t either,” she breathlessly admitted. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. But I know it couldn’t have been just me.” Reaching out, the mare placed a foreleg across Pan Sea’s and Smart Cookie’s shoulders and pulled them close. “It came from all three of us, joined together, in friendship.” The three ponies smiled and exchanged a heartfelt hug, letting the warmth of each other’s coats and their own friendship burn away the chill of the windigo curse. Hurricane decided three seconds was enough before he rather harshly cleared his throat. “Ahem. How about we all get out of this ice before we start celebrating?” Pan Sea broke apart rather quickly from the other two and spun about in place before finally locating his commander. When he did, he gave a quick salute and trotted over to Hurricane’s side. The ice gluing Hurricane’s torso to the ground had weakened considerably, but it was still too much for the Commander to break through without any leverage. Lining up a shot near Hurricane’s right foreleg, Pan Sea coiled his legs and delivered several bucks to the ice. It chipped, cracked, and finally shattered with a few seconds of effort, and Hurricane was free to twist his torso. As Pan Sea began to go to Hurricane’s other side, the Commander raised his one free hoof and waved him off. “I can take care of it from here, Pansy. Go and take the earth pony and help break out the others.” His eyes darted towards Platinum’s frozen scowl, and they narrowed accordingly. “Or maybe just the Chancellor, and then Platinum if she’s really necessary.” Clover rolled her eyes and trotted over to Hurricane’s side. With a flare of her horn, her Arcana gripped onto the ice binding his left foreleg in place. Hurricane looked at her before trying to wave her off with his hoof. “That really won’t be necessary, Clover.” Clover simply raised an eyebrow but continued to pull on the leg. With a few seconds of combined effort, the two ponies managed to shatter the ice binding that limb to the ground, and Clover moved around towards Hurricane’s flanks. “Why do you hate her so much?” The question caught Hurricane off guard. “Well, I…” his focus shifted towards where Pan Sea and Smart Cookie were trying to buck Chancellor Puddinghead out of the ice. They were making slow progress, and Hurricane was sure that the earth pony was going to have a headache for the next few days. Clover waited expectantly. Hurricane sighed and shook his head. “She’s a terrible leader and a horrible, conceited pony.” With a snap of ice, Clover managed to pry a sheet from Hurricane’s flank and flung it across the floor. “Commander, how long have you known her?” Hurricane shook his head. “Too long.” “Right.” With a quick pause to wipe the sweat from her brow, Clover worked on pulling out the ice from underneath Hurricane’s gut. “And have those all been political meetings, or…?” “Political,” Hurricane answered. “Why does it matter?” “She’s a very different pony when you get to know her.” Hurricane snorted . “Get to know her? I’d say that’s impossible when she acts like a stuck-up child with something to prove. Didn’t your King ever discipline her?” Clover shook her head. “Beside the point. But you’re right; she does feel like she has something to prove. And she doesn’t know how to prove it. She only acts how she thinks royals are supposed to act. She almost never spent any time with the common pony.” Clover touched Hurricane’s shoulder, causing his head to turn so she could look him in the eye. “But I know how she’s really like. She’s gentle and generous. She gave her crown—her Sun-forsaken crown—to a little filly at Onyx Ridge.” Letting the last sentence hang in the air, Clover nodded and stepped back. “Talk to her, Commander. Don’t make her feel like she’s got something to prove around you.” Hurricane quietly bit his lip while Clover helped pry the last of the ice from his body. In a few minutes, he was entirely free, and he walked away from the ruins of his prison and towards the center of the room. Before he could go much farther, however, a weak whinny towards the side caught his attention. There they were. The demons that had frozen him solid. The demons that had killed thousands, tens of thousands, a million ponies with their cold and cruel winter. They were weak, helpless, and whimpering as they lay against the far walls. Without thinking, Hurricane drew his sword and drove it straight through the heart of the first horse. The beast let out a howl of pain before it dissipated into an ethereal mist and a shower of cold water. The other two windigos saw this, and they struggled backwards in response. As Hurricane marched over to the second, Clover took her attention away from the mostly freed Chancellor Puddinghead and galloped over towards the Commander. “Stop!” she shouted, even as Hurricane impaled the second windigo. “Commander, stop!” As Hurricane pulled the sword from the mist of what was previously another demon, Clover tackled him and tried to wrestle the sword from his grasp. With an expert roll and a kick, Hurricane easily rebounded from the grapple and turned to face her, the sword still in his mouth. “What the hell?!” he shouted at her. “Clover, what are you doing?!” Clover placed herself between Hurricane and the last windigo. “They don’t need to die, Commander! They’ve learned their lesson! Can’t you see?!” The windigo behind her whimpered and scooted backwards several inches. Hurricane advanced towards it until he was nose to nose with Clover. “They have learned nothing. They are demons, spawns of Grabacr himself, and they must die. They have killed too many. Who knows how many more will die if we let it live.” Lowering his sword so that the tip brushed against Clover’s shoulder, he hardened his stare and leaned closer. “Stand aside, and let me finish it off.” Clover gulped and put a hoof to Hurricane’s chest. “You will not kill it. It’s not a demon, it’s a living thing, just like us. Every life is precious. Don’t take another when nopony else needs to die.” “It’s not a pony!” Hurricane snarled. “And how many lives did you take in Onyx Ridge?!” “None!” Clover protested. “I simply loaded the ballista! I killed nopony!” “You still put rounds into a machine that killed others!” “I tried to save whom I could! When I broke out of my cell, I could have killed the guard that was there! Instead, I spared him his life!” “Enough of this!” With an angry hoof, Hurricane practically threw Clover to the side and advanced on the windigo, his sword raised to deal the death blow. It was too late. With a scream of anger and fright, the windigo dispersed into mist and fog that simply slid past Hurricane and flowed upwards. The stone ceiling hissed, and the windigo returned to its equine shape. With one final howl of anger, it fled through the rock towards the east. Hurricane watched the spot where it disappeared for several long seconds. During that time, Clover slowly backed away towards Smart Cookie, Pan Sea, and the mostly freed Chancellor Puddinghead. They were all quiet when Hurricane screeched in rage and slammed his sword into the ground. A gash of bedrock nearly a foot long surrendered to the Gladius Procellarum. Clover took a cautious step closer to Hurricane and raised a pleading hoof as a desperate apology. “Commander Hurricane, I—” “Damn it, Clover,” Hurricane whispered. The tension and emotion in his voice was so powerful that it immediately silenced the mare. “We could have ended this. Right here. The blizzard over the Compact lands would have been gone. And we wouldn’t have had to leave after all.” When he looked back at her, his eyes were haunted and angry. “The pegasi wouldn’t have had to run. Not now. Not later. Never again.” Clover’s ears flattened against her skull and she lowered her neck in shame. “Please, Commander, I’m sorry—” “You know nothing. You couldn’t have. But it’s okay. Soon, you’ll find out. You’ll know what it feels like.” Then he turned his face away and sighed. “Remember this, years from now. There’s a price we pay for mercy. There’s a price we pay for loyalty.” He looked at her one last time before moving towards the frozen mouth of the cave. “In a few months, ask yourself if it was really worth it. Ask yourself if you still would have stopped me from killing the demon.” With a flick of his wings, Hurricane summoned sobering flames of fire and leaned against the ice wall. Clover, meanwhile, collapsed onto the floor and stared into space. Hurricane’s words struck her over and over again as she thought. ----- The smell of food woke Typhoon that morning. Or night. Her bleary and tired eyes couldn’t see very well. That, and the stone cell she was in didn’t have any windows. She hazarded a yawn, and was thankful when she wasn’t struck across the face like she had been for the past few hours. Days? Weeks? The beatings were so irregular that it was hard to even use them as a means to tell time. Her sleep schedule consisted of what little rest she could get between having her gut pummeled and her wings twisted. After Jewel had found her, he used his Arcana to knock her out. When she awoke, Typhoon had found herself chained to the wall, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction. Four manacles secured each of her hooves in place, and loose leather straps held her wings. After all, it was hard for the unicorns to yank on them and burn them if they were chained down like her legs. Food, what little she got, usually was coarse grain bread mixed with a lot of sawdust and a few pebbles for good measure. Occasionally she would be granted a piece of rotted lettuce or celery to chew on while she waited for her next beating. Whatever it was they gave her to drink… she didn’t want to think about it. It didn’t taste good at all. So when she saw a bowl of freshly made stew, mixed with some small carrots and potatoes, her stomach let out a righteous and jubilant growl. Her mouth watered, and she leaned as close to the meal as she could with her body fastened to the wall. “Ple-ease,” she croaked, her parched throat making it difficult to speak. “Food…” She was rewarded with a dull green magical aura taking hold of a ladle and bringing it to her lips. The mare greedily gulped down the portion before the ladle returned to the pot, empty. She swished the broth around her cut tongue and chipped teeth several times before finally swallowing the soup. It was delicious, hearty, and most of all, warm. Feeling reinvigorated by the meal, she looked up at the pony feeding it to her. Tired, old eyes under a blue hat with jingling bells looked back at her with a soft smile. The sight of Star Swirl the Bearded nearly caused Typhoon to choke on her meal. “Star Swirl?” she whispered, squinting for good measure to make sure it actually was the archmage. The old stallion nodded. “Yes, it is. Please do eat fast; the others are going to be here shortly.” Typhoon didn’t need to be told twice. She gulped down the stew as fast as Star Swirl could ladle it to her. All too soon it was empty, even though the mare was still left wanting more. After a few seconds to savor the taste, Typhoon raised her head and looked at Star Swirl. “So… what brings you to my humble abode?” “Guilt,” Star Swirl simply answered. “You and your brother were at my house when the Diamond Guard showed up. I should have done something to help you two. I underestimated the tenacity of River Rock’s military, I suppose.” Typhoon was silent. Star Swirl nervously glanced over his shoulder before pushing the empty bowl of soup away. “If I could break you out of here, I would. You don’t belong here. But I can’t. As long as you’re in here, they won’t kill you. But believe me, I’ll do everything in my power to get you back home to your family. I’m sure your brother esp—” “Fuck Cyclone,” Typhoon interrupted. “He left me to die. He left me to die, and he knew it, too. He doesn’t care about what happens to me. I was just another obstacle he needed to clear for ‘the coming empire’. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I can’t believe I trusted him.” Star Swirl stood silent. “I… don’t know what to say. Cyclone never struck me as the kind who would betray family.” “Then I suppose this is a lesson for both of us,” Typhoon bitterly droned. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but he’s going to kill Cirra. I know it.” “Even the best laid plans take time to come to fruition,” Star Swirl reminded her. “There will be time for you to stop this, and to make amends with your brother.” Typhoon looked to the side. “The only way to make amends with a traitor is with the sword.” Star Swirl shook his head. “One day, you’ll understand just how important family is, Typhoon. And when you do, I know you’ll make the right choice.” Somewhere distant, the iron clang of a door echoed through the dungeon. Without wasting any time, Star Swirl gathered his things and began to make for the exit. “Be strong, Typhoon. I shall be back next time with news.” The door opened and closed, leaving Typhoon alone in her cell. She wasn’t alone for long, though. Soon enough the door opened, and in walked three unicorns dressed in Diamond Guard armor. One figure in particular raised the hair on Typhoon’s neck. Jewel pulled over a stool from the side of the chamber and sat down in front of her, a cheery smile decorating his face. With a little flair, he removed his helmet and bowed to Typhoon. “My lady, I hope your accommodations have been… to your liking. If there is anything you should want, I trust you would be courteous enough to ask nicely.” Typhoon glared at him. “What are you doing here?” Jewel shook his head. “What, aren’t you happy to see me? I’m offended, Ty, I truly am.” “Don’t call me that.” He cocked his head to the side. “And why is that, Typhoon?” “Only my br—only my family calls me that.” “I see.” Standing up, Jewel walked closer to Typhoon. “So how have you been? It’s been quite a while since we last spoke pony to pony.” “I’ve been busy killing the likes of you,” Typhoon spat back. “How about you free me from these shackles and we’ll see if the practice has paid off?” Jewel laughed quietly. “An amusing sentiment, my lady, but hardly a reasonable one. No, I think you’re doing just fine where you are.” With a frightening smile, he placed a hoof on the wall next to Typhoon’s flank. “Tell me, is there anything you would like to ask before we begin?” Typhoon pointedly looked away for several seconds before answering. “How did you get into the Diamond Guard?” “Oh ho! Now that’s a lovely story! Come, take a seat, and I’ll tell you about it.” He let the last taunt hang in the air for a second longer before beginning. “Well, I’ll tell you the truth. I got in through basic training, just like any other soldier you’ll find in the Diamond Guard.” “I find it hard to believe that the Kingdom would just let terrorists and gang members into their ranks.” “I do apologize, I forgot to set the time frame. Let’s see, this must have been… oh, ten years ago.” Typhoon raised an eyebrow. “So you went rogue? Funny that they would take you back.” Jewel smiled and shook his head. “Oh, see, I understand your confusion. You think I actually left. Understandable misconception. I never did.” Typhoon gawked at the implications of his words. “Shocking, isn’t it?” With a sly smile, Jewel placed a hoof on Typhoon’s flank. The mare shuddered from the contact, but was unable to move away. “You know what’s even more shocking? C’mon, guess.” Typhoon gritted her teeth and remained silent. After a few seconds, Jewel sighed and stepped away. “Really, you’re no fun, Typhoon. It has to do with your brother.” Typhoon jolted slightly but refused to make a noise. Jewel saw it, and his hoof returned to her flank. “Right, Cyclone. Funny thing about him and I. We’ve got a lot in common.” His hoof slowly inched its way around her flank and closer to her tail. “I don’t know when it was that he and I first met. A few years ago, I suppose. But, see, we had this connection. This kind of kindred spirit. We both knew we were destined for greatness. And, well, rather than wait around for greatness to find us, we decided to move the heavens and the earth to bring it to us. So what did we do? We formed a plan.” With a malicious smile, Jewel paused long enough to feel Typhoon’s shivers before continuing. “We knew that on their own, the tribes were weak, but together, they could be one hell of a fighting force. And when you’ve got an army, what do you do next? Drive out the Crystal barbarians? Why, that’d be perfect, if it weren’t too easy. Besides, Cyclone was interested in something much more important. Some land by the name of Dioda, far across the sea. Apparently, it’s supposed to be important to you pegasi. I’m just interested in the adventure, and the killing of… what are they called? Griffons?” He laughed loudly, an evil thing that jostled Typhoon’s very soul. “Supposedly they’re good sport, and they’d put up a fight. Not like the Low Valleys. So, in a few days, we knew what we were going to do.” Typhoon shied away from Jewel’s contact as best she could. “And what’s that?” “Well, I—” he cut himself off and grinned. “I wouldn’t want to ruin all the fun. It’ll be a surprise, I can assure you. And once it’s over with, we can finally get rid of you.” “Then why not just kill me?” Typhoon dared. “What good am I to you alive?” Jewel’s hoof had found its spot between Typhoon’s legs, causing the mare to shudder. “Entertainment, for one. Two, Cyclone demanded that you be returned to him alive when this is all over. He didn’t say unharmed. Now,” He withdrew his hoof even as a darkness came over his smiling face. “Would you rather do this the easy way or the hard way?” Typhoon spat directly into his eyes. “Go fuck yourself.” Jewel cursed and wiped the spittle from his face. When he looked back at Typhoon, it was with anger, not pride. “The hard way it is, then.” He gestured towards one of his companions, and the unicorn left the room only to return a minute later with a bucket full of coals and fire, in which a sword rested. Using his Arcana, Jewel pulled the weapon from the pile of coals and held it near Typhoon’s face. Even from several inches away, she could feel the heat pouring off of it. With a few strokes around her head, Jewel pulled it back before doing any harm. “We’re going to play a game. I’ll give you a simple question, and if you answer it correctly, you won’t get burned. Answer it wrong, though…” his cruel smile sent Typhoon’s heart racing, and the calm that came with her adrenaline rushes was frighteningly absent. “Shall we begin?” Typhoon kept her eyes fixated on the blade. “Good. Now, easy one to start off. Whose sword is this?” Typhoon’s answer came without hesitation. “Mine.” “Right you are, my lady. This is your sword. Very good. Next question; where are we?” “River Rock,” Typhoon flatly answered. Jewel shrugged his shoulders. “Too general. Be more specific.” Typhoon brought her eyes up and to the left as she thought. “Castle Burning Hearth.” “Narrower.” “Gods, I… I don’t know. The south tower?” A sear of pain burnt across Typhoon’s chest as Jewel laid the flat of the sword across it. She screamed in agony, and Jewel let the blade linger for an eternity before pulling it away. In its place was a perfectly straight line going from her left armpit and across her stomach before disappearing out the right side. “Wrong. We’re in the west tower. Basement level, actually.” He paused for a second to come up with another question. “Alright, how about this. How did the Diamond Guard find you?” “They were told?” Typhoon shrugged. “By whom?” “Cyclone must have let you know somehow.” “Half a point for that one,” Jewel remarked as he quickly slapped the sword across Typhoon’s right flank before pulling it away. The mare grunted and gasped from the short burst of pain and hung from the wall, panting. Jewel smiled and leaned back. “I was the one that told the Diamond Guard to be ready. I told Cyclone to be here on that night so that we could get rid of you. All he had to do was put the pieces into place to do so.” Sweat was pouring from Typhoon’s mane and into her eyes. Jewel took the time to tease some of the strands of her mane from her face with his Arcana, separating, red, brown, gold, black, and orange hairs into their proper place. “What a beautiful mane you’ve got, my lady. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a pony with that many colors to her hair.” Tapping the scalding sword against the tips of her ears, Jewel amused himself for a second longer before lowering the weapon. “How about this one; why are you in a River Rock dungeon?” “Because Cyclone betrayed me,” Typhoon bitterly answered. A scream and a streak of red across her shoulder was Jewel’s response. Typhoon gritted her teeth and glared at the unicorn. “Fine… because I was trespassing in Diamond Kingdom territory?” “Nope,” Jewel cheerily answered as he pressed the sword against her leg. “Aaugh!!” Typhoon’s screams became more panicked and wild. “I don’t know! Because you framed me for a crime?!” Jewel lowered the sword and leaned back on his stool. “That’s the official story, anyway. ‘Cirran assassin caught trying to murder Star Swirl the Bearded, with plans to kill King Lapis IV and plunge the Diamond Kingdom into terror and anarchy.’ I think it has a nice ring to it. The nobles need something to read while they wait out the storm in the comfort of their homes.” Then the cruel smile returned to his face and he slowly, teasingly pressed the tip of the sword against her stomach until the acrid smell of burnt flesh and the screams of the tortured mare dominated the cell. “It’s not why you’re here, though.” “Why?!” Typhoon screamed. “Why am I here?!” With a quick flick of the sword, Jewel drew a jagged scar along her flesh, letting the heat of the blade immediately cauterize the wound. “You’re here because I want you here,” he snarled. “Your brother may have left your… care… to me, but you’re in this cell because I want you here, and you’ll be here for as long as I want you here. Do you understand?” Typhoon was too busy moaning and panting to respond. Jewel sneered at her and held the sword to her face. “Now, I do believe it’s getting late. So, let’s wrap this up. One more question. We’ll see if you can get this one.” Typhoon nodded her head even as she took painful breaths to try and recover from the burns. “What is my name?” Typhoon paused, hesitant of earning another scar on her body. “…Jewel?” Jewel smiled and walked away, lowering the sword into the bucket. “Good, Jewel. That’s my name, alright. Looks like you’re good to go.” With that, he began to walk towards the door, leaving Typhoon to sigh in relief. Just as he put his hoof on the latch, however, he smile and trotted back. With a quick burst of Arcana, he grabbed the sword and pressed it against Typhoon’s right side, eliciting a powerful scream. “Now now, who ever said I would tell you the truth? My name isn’t Jewel. That’s simply what I told you when we met in Amber Field the second time. Guess again.” He pulled away the sword and let Typhoon have a moment to collect herself. As she did, she looked him up and down, trying to associate a name with a face or some identifying characteristic. She had met a few unicorn officers and soldiers before… could he be one of them? In the end, one name kept coming to her mind, and with no others to go on and Jewel getting impatient, she decided to go with it. “You couldn’t be… Chiseled Gem? You’re too young.” Jewel raised an eyebrow and whistled. “I’m impressed. You know my father. He knew your father, too. They fought together during the Crystal raids against River Rock, way back when.” Then his smile turned cruel, and Typhoon flattened her ears in fear. “But it’s not my name. My name is Shattered Gem, even if I never use it. You can feel free to call me Jewel, though.” Looking at both his comrades, Jewel smiled and pulled over a torture rack from the side of the room. “Unbind her. Place her on the rack, and flatten it out.” Typhoon gawked at him even as he began to step back. “No! No, please! Please!! By the mercy of Mobius, please don’t!!” As the two unicorns unlocked the shackles, Typhoon tried to fight back. She thrashed her limbs and her wings in a desperate attempt to strike one of them, but it was no use. With a single punch to her burn marks, the two guards sent Typhoon reeling and screeching in agony. Before the mare could flush the haze of pain from her mind, they had already fastened her flat on her back onto the rack. Jewel walked over and held the sword and inch from Typhoon’s face. “‘And them that take the sword shall perish by the sword.’ I hear that you pegasi use your emotions to make skysteel. Something about bonding your sword with your experiences, making it more than just a metal blade. If that’s true, than I wonder what it must be like to be wronged by your own weapon.” “No…” Typhoon pleaded. “Please don’t! Please… I beg you…!” Jewel cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Too late.” With that, he simply dropped the sword on Typhoon’s chest. The mare screamed and writhed in agony, shaking and struggling every which way to knock the weapon off of her. Her struggles and convulsions did manage to knock the blade off her chest, but instead it went through the air and struck her across the face. As she shouted and cried out even louder, she finally knocked the blade onto the ground. In its wake it left a painful burn mark that went across her forehead, over her right eye, and alongside her muzzle. Jewel laughed and grabbed Typhoon’s face to look at the scar. “That one’s going to leave a mark! I’m sorry I had to ruin your pretty face, Typhoon.” With sudden intensity, he leaned in and snarled into her ear. “See how helpless you are? Imperator Typhoon, the mighty Praetorian, brought screaming and crying to her knees by her own weapon. Your time is over, pegasus. Your reputation for being calm and fearless has failed you. You’re a broken mare now.” Standing up, Jewel chuckled softly. “‘You’re a broken mare.’ I like that. You, Typhoon, the mare who was branded by her own weapon. Typhoon the Broken. Years from now, that is how ponies will remember you. Not as some great Praetorian. Even if you grow into greatness, what I’ve done today will stay with you the rest of your life. And that’s the absolute power I have over you.” The stallion leered at her before nodding to his two guards. “I have things to do, Broken. How about you relax and think about everything that’s happened so far… and everything that will happen in the future.” As the trio of unicorns left, Typhoon moaned softly from the pain she felt all over her body. The scars would never heal; that much was true. But she wasn’t worried about the physical scars. She could see her sword on the ground next to her, so painfully close yet easily beyond her reach. The metal glowed with a bright orange, and Typhoon could see some of her coat and flesh melting along its surface. Typhoon the Broken. The sting of that title, the betrayal it embodied, and the simple truth it carried was enough to bring her to tears. Jewel was right. He had broken her. Her legendary calm-under-pressure reputation had failed her and had left her crying and begging Jewel to stop. Years and years of training had meant nothing to the burns decorating her tortured body and the pain that came with each one. He had broken her. But even then, a small voice cried out in the back of her mind, and it only grew in intensity as her tears dried up. He had broken her. Once. She would not stay broken for long. ----- “Rraaugh!!!” With a sudden explosion of Empatha, the icy wall covering the mouth of the cave finally gave way and exploded into huge chunks of ice as massive tongues of fire swept past them. In the steamy aftermath, Commander Hurricane stepped forward and into the sunlight, letting its golden rays wash over his armor triumphant. On either side, the other five ponies emerged, each one pausing in line with the Commander to bask in the sun and admire the land around them. There was still snow and ice on the ground, sure, but it was melting at an amazing rate. In just a few minutes since the windigos were defeated, most of the snow had melted and the skies had entirely cleared. Green grass once again dominated the landscape, gently cascading up and down the hills. The blue skies were a welcome sight, and Hurricane felt like stretching his wings and flying despite the injury to his ribcage. And that was exactly what he did. As the four earthbound ponies trotted to and fro on the hillside and admired the reborn land around them, Hurricane and Pan Sea made slow and leisurely circles in the sky. Finding a warm updraft, Hurricane spread his wings to their fullest and let it carry him upwards. Gods, he had been walking so long he almost forgot what it was like to fly. After several minutes of flight, Hurricane and Pan Sea settled down next to the other leaders at the base of the hill. Together they formed a wide circle on the grass and enjoyed the warm breeze from the west. It was then that Hurricane noticed that no chastising remarks or crude insults were being shared. Things were almost sociable. “So…” Hurricane began. “We’re alive. What now?” “I suppose we’ll have to go somewhere else for land,” Smart Cookie mumbled as he scratched his neck with a hoof. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on somepony else’s claim.” “Right,” Platinum murmured. She turned away from Hurricane and the rest of the group and began to walk. “I suppose this is where we go our separate ways.” Hurricane looked at his hooves and sighed. “You don’t have to go.” The other four ponies stopped and turned to face him. When Hurricane looked up, it was with determination. “The pegasi have been fighting with the other tribes for nearly the past twenty years now. The earth ponies and unicorns have fought even longer than that. Isn’t it time we put that hatred aside and work towards something new?” “What do you mean?” Clover asked. “Simple.” With a broad sweep of his wings, Hurricane gestured to the entirety of the land around him. “We all left Compact lands to try and find a new place to live. For one reason or another, the Gods brought all of us here, together, this day. It might very well be coincidence, but I believe that they’re asking us to start anew. Today, six ponies set aside their hatreds for each other and survived together. Why can’t three nations do the same?” “Are you suggesting that we work together?” Platinum took a cautious step towards Hurricane, and the hope in her words was plainly heard. Hurricane’s eyes moved to her and he dipped his head. “Aye, work together. Separate, we’re nothing. We’re weak and cruel. But together… well, who knows what we could accomplish. Even Cirra would benefit, as much as we pride ourselves on our military.” Chancellor Puddinghead walked over from the side and tipped his hat. “The earth ponies are with you. Maybe together, we won’t be pushed around and walked all over like we have been too often in the past. And it’ll be a heck of a lot easier to distribute food that way.” Together, the two stallions looked towards Platinum. The Princess kept her eyes to the dirt, thinking things over in her head. With a small hum and a determined expression, she rose her head towards Hurricane and nodded. “I don’t like Cirra,” she began. “Never have, and I doubt I ever will. But this is above even my own petty hatreds. As much as we pride ourselves on tradition, the Diamond Kingdom needs this partnership. Perhaps an alliance such as this would end our tensions with Cirra, and trade between our two nations would flourish.” With that, the three leaders all shook hooves and stepped back to the edge of the circle. All present were smiling with varying degrees of enthusiasm, and each felt genuinely happy that they had done something to settle their conflict—something they had failed to do weeks ago in Amber Field. “Three tribes, united as one,” Clover said, almost not believing her own words. “One nation for every equine, with wings, horns, or nothing at all.” Pausing, she looked towards the south, where she imagined her father and the other prisoners from Onyx Ridge were gathered. “Equestria, home of the ever free.” “It’s a wonderful name,” Smart Cookie assured her, to which Pan Sea nodded. Chancellor Puddinghead took his hat off and scratched his head. “It doesn’t exactly have the same ring to it as The Middle Plains, but it’s cool anyway!” “I was hoping for something more glamorous, but it’ll do,” Platinum said. Hurricane shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter what it’s called now. In time, I’ll give it a reputation to be respected, just like Cirra.” Then, smiling, the first six Equestrians went into the forest together to find food on the virgin soil. ----- “I’m telling you, sir, what you propose is the greatest chance for the Empire. The Legion will follow you. You can be assured of that.” “And what if they don’t?” Cyclone asked his companion. “What happens if I make my move and I suddenly find that the army behind me has fled? What happens if their resolve isn’t as great as you say it is?” The Praetorian at Cyclone’s side accelerated to keep up with his quick pace down the halls of the barracks. Small oil lanterns cast dim light on either side of the dark cloudstone hall deep within the heart of the Legion. They shed flickering shadows over both soldiers’ faces as they moved with chilling purpose. “Cyclone, sir, they will not. Your claim is true; your father is dead and your mother refuses to save her daughter. You’re the last one in Hurricane’s family who actually remembers their vows.” “Aye, that I do, but suppose my father isn’t dead. He’s a magnificent soldier; I hardly doubt anything west of here would keep him tied down for long. What happens if he comes back in the midst of this mess? Do I have to kill my own father then?!” The Praetorian stopped Cyclone with a hoof on his shoulder. In the light of the lantern, the Imperator looked tired, haggard, and most of all, nervous. His red feathers were disheveled and each breath seemed like it was too little. His teeth were slightly bared under the wild look on his face. At the sudden crackle of fire from a nearby lantern, Cyclone nearly jumped out of his armor. “The Praetorian is yours to command, Cyclone. Whatever you ask of us, however you want us to do it, it will be done. Even if there are doubters in the Legion, you can rely on us, the best trained soldiers in the entire world, to stand by you. And if we follow you, more will, too.” Cyclone sighed and nodded. “Right. You’re right, Thunder Hawk. I… I don’t know where I’d be without your help.” Thunder Hawk patted Cyclone on the back once and tilted his head towards the end of the hallway. The two of them resumed their walk. “Believe me, I’m glad to give it to you. I was there when the griffons razed Nimbus. Then, Feathertop… believe me, after what happened during the war, there’s not a soul more eager than I to fly back there and get some vengeance for the Empire. And even if I die, it’d be under my home skies, not some distant icy wasteland across the ocean.” Cyclone blinked and bit down on his tongue. He watched the Praetorian out of the side of his eye as they walked. Thunder Hawk was a few years older than Hurricane, and his gray coat and light gold mane were trending towards the silver lining of age. The soldier walked with a slight limp, and a horrid scar slashed across his muzzle, down his neck, and through the knee of his left foreleg. How he didn’t die from that wound during the war, Cyclone would never know. Adorning his flank was a swooping hawk, with talons sharp as daggers. After a period of silence, Cyclone turned to Thunder Hawk again. “How many do we have?” “Thirty-five thousand, if you count the five thousand of the Praetorian Guard. Most of them are from the Sixteenth Legion. It was formed immediately after the Exodus. Those soldiers didn’t see any kind of action during the war, and they’re eager to settle things once and for all.” “Thirty-five thousand is a start, but hardly the army I need to take on Gryphus.” “You’re right about that, sir, but give it time. A year from now you’ll have ten times that amount, not to mention how many thousands of unicorns.” “I wish we could have had more to work with,” Cyclone muttered. “I’ll need at least twenty thousand to sweep aside the Diamond Kingdom’s pathetic excuse for an army. I know that Cloudsdale is going to resist. The Praetorian may be loyal to me, but the Legion answers to Swift Spear. Fifteen thousand is too few.” “We should be lucky that we have this many. Any larger and word would have gotten out.” “That was never a problem,” Cyclone countered. “I told every soldier to report to me with any information on dissenters. Not a word of it reached my parents, that you can be sure of.” “Still, sir, it was only a matter of time before somepony talked to your sister. Not to offend you, but it was convenient that the Diamond Guard managed to capture her while you two were in River Rock.” “Right. Convenient.” Cyclone exhaled and rounded the corner with Thunder Hawk. The corridor went on for another fifty feet before opening up into a courtyard. There, Cyclone could see several thousand soldiers, most of them centurions and legates. The bulk of the Legionnaires that were part of the plan were elsewhere, waiting for the orders that these centurions and legates would bring to them. Cyclone paused by the exit to the corridor, and Thunder Hawk walked past him to ready the crowd. As soon as the Praetorian stepped out, the idle murmur among the soldiers came to an abrupt halt. “Ready!!” Thunder Hawk called out in an authoritative voice. Thousands of pairs of hooves snapped together in response. After a few seconds to inspect the soldiers near him, Thunder Hawk stepped back and pivoted ninety degrees. “All salute Imperator Cyclone, First Emperor of the New Empire!” With that introduction, Cyclone walked into the open in the rigid posture of a leader. There were thousands of flutters and ruffles as each Legionnaire spread their wings and saluted the red pegasus as he passed. Coming to a rest by Thunder Hawk’s side, Cyclone made a stiff pivot and stomped his hoof on the ground. As one, the thousands of pegasi closed their wings and returned to the ready position. “At ease!” Cyclone shouted to them, releasing them of their posture. “Today, we are more than just soldiers of the Cirran Legion. We are the finest it has to offer, not because of rank or distinction, but because of one simple fact; where the rest of the world thinks the Red Cloud War has ended, we alone know it is not! Gryphus did not win the war, they only won a reprieve. And while the griffons grow fat and confident off of the raped fields of Cirra and dance on the graves of our forefathers, we remember. And for the past twenty years, we have sworn never to forget what they did to the Empire. For the past twenty years, the Legion has trained for this very moment. The Red Cloud War is hardly ended; today, we begin the steps towards retaking Dioda!!” Thousands of cheers answered Cyclone as his voice split the air in two. Feeding off of their enthusiasm, the emperor began to pace back and forth in front of them. “There are those who will not follow us; those who do not believe that we must finish the fight. They think that the war is over simply because we’re safe. But so long as a single griffon is so much as allowed to take a shit on our land, it can never be over!” He was applauded with more cheering, and Cyclone smiled back at them, feeling confident in his power. “So we will fly to Dioda and we will put the heart, head, and balls of every last soldier we see on pikes. The usurper, Magnus, will burn and die, screaming like the coward he is as we skin him alive with a blade of fire! And when we are all finished, Dioda will become the final resting place of the griffons! Not a one of them will be left to live. Every last Gryphon, every father, every mother and child, will be spared no mercy! We will make Dioda pure, and in the end, each one of you will have been a part of the greatest empire the world has ever seen, spanning an entire ocean as its domain! Does that sound good to you, faithful Legionnaires?!” Cheering and applause. Settling down into his rhythm, Cyclone began to deliver his ultimatum with a chilling grin. “But before we can take on Gryphus, we must unify ponykind against Magnus. Today, we begin by taking Cloudsdale and River Rock, the homes of the two most powerful militaries in the world. Our numbers are few, and this will not be an easy task.” The audience had quieted down with Cyclone’s last words, and he took a deep breath before beginning again. “Today, we must first kill our brothers. Even though our cause is just, there will still be those that stand against us. But know this; every Cirran who tries to stop you is helping Gryphus. They seek to stop us from finishing the Red Cloud War, and if they will not join us, they need to be shown no mercy. In the end, hopefully their deaths are few. It is a regrettable task that we must perform. “Then, we must take River Rock, the home of King Lapis and the Diamond Guard. When their monarchy is beheaded, their soldiers will go into chaos and disarray. We will shepherd the pieces back together and make them staunch allies to the pegasus cause. Together, we shall annex the Low Valleys into the Empire, and following that, sail to Dioda… and take back what is ours.” Cyclone loosened his wings against his sides as a silent plea. “These are tough tasks I ask you to do, but I pray that you will complete them without hesitation, not for me, not for anypony else, not even for the Gods, but for Cirra. We shall make the Empire born anew. Now, go. The centurions and the legates have their orders. “Through the fires of our own blood, we shall arise victorious.” With nothing more than a curt nod, Cyclone flared his wings in a brief salute before turning to leave. Behind him, the pegasi in the courtyard dispersed in all different directions, getting ready to execute their orders. As they flew off, Thunder Hawk left them and trotted over to Cyclone’s side. “Excellent speech, sir,” he said. “I was surprised you didn’t end on a prayer before battle like your father does.” “My father prays to Mobius for mercy before each battle,” Cyclone flatly answered. Thunder Hawk paused. “And you do not?” Cyclone stopped and, without turning his head, answered him. “Hurricane, Swift Spear, Twister, Typhoon, all are followers of Mobius, and his mercy has done nothing for them. No, I do not pray to him.” When he turned back, his eyes blazed with a determined fire. “I pray to Ofnir, God of War and Lord of Conquest. Where Mobius asks for prayers through words, Ofnir only asks for tribute through the blood of the enemy.” “Very well, sir,” Thunder Hawk neutrally answered. “Where will you be in the coming fight?” “I will be in River Rock. I trust that you can handle the change of leadership for me in Cloudsdale while I’m gone.” “Of course. It should be simple enough with the Praetorian Guard to help.” “No,” Cyclone objected. “I will take the Praetorian to River Rock. I want somepony I can trust watching my back when I’m going up against unicorns.” Thunder Hawk moved to object but stopped the words before they could form. “Very well,” he spoke instead. “Are there any other orders for me, sir?” “As a matter of fact, yes.” He began to walk away, leaving Thunder Hawk behind. “Take four of your finest Praetorians and take care of my mother. I want her alive and unharmed. If any of you so much as wound her…” He stopped and turned to leer at Thunder Hawk. “Only the intervention of Mobius himself will bring you the mercy you ask for.” > Chapter 16: Skyfall > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 16: Skyfall The music and laughter almost drowned out Safe Haven’s voice as he ushered Twilight and Rainbow Dash inside the tavern. “Come, come! Don’t worry, they won’t bite… mostly.” Within a few seconds of walking through the door, Haven found them an unoccupied table that was more or less out of the way. There the three ponies sat, with the two Equestrians quickly embracing the refuge that the shadowy wall offered them. “They call this place Ashes and Ale, for fairly obvious reasons,” Haven remarked as he sat on the bench next to Twilight. “Don’t mind the black grit on the table, it’s just the void dust we’re all breathing in.” Twilight shuddered as she brushed some of the grime away from herself. Poor Rarity would have a fit here, especially with her white coat. “I don’t understand why you guys continue to live here. Void crystals are extremely bad for magic. Continued exposure increases the risk of magical atrophy, and—” “Please, Twi, just cool down a little,” Rainbow interrupted. Unfolding her wings, she spread them across the wooden backrest and let them soak up as much heat as possible. “Ahh… I almost forgot what it’s like to be warm and toasty.” Haven chuckled and raised a hoof into the air to try and catch a waitress’ attention. “Enjoy it while it lasts, cause in a few days, I’ll be bringing you down south to the Dragonfire Bridge. And Twilight, when you’re fighting your government, sometimes you don’t have the convenience of choosing where to live. Coltpenhagen is safe from the Black Cloaks, and that’s honestly the only thing that matters to us here.” As he finished speaking, a rather large earth pony mare walked over and rested her forehooves on the edge of the table. “Гавань, мне было интересно, когда ты вернешься. Являются ли кобылок портится от Сараево?” Haven glanced to Rainbow Dash and Twilight and shook his head. “Нет, решительный, они Наездники я помог избавиться от этого беспорядка. Не Альянс рассказать вам все, что там произошло?” “Он сказал мне, что Сараево получил трахал, но ничего не сказал еще об этом.” She leaned closer to Haven and whispered in his ear. “Мы проиграли, не так ли?” “Боюсь, что да,” Haven remarked. Then, turning to his companions, he gestured to the mare. “Rainbow Dash, Twilight, this is Resolute. She’s one of the few natives left in Coltpenhagen after the Revolution. You need anything from her, you just ask.” Resolute nodded. “Is being not often that I see Equestrian here. What making you leave Canterlot in winter?” “Erm,” Twilight hesitated, “Well, my friend Rainbow and I came out here to do a little archaeology work. I was looking for some of Commander Hurricane’s journals, and Rainbow wanted to come along and help.” “Worst. Decision. Ever,” Rainbow grumbled from across the table. “I am seeing,” Resolute said in her broken Equiish. “Ark-ay-owl-ogy… is Equiish for digging through old ruin?” Twilight dipped her head. “More or less, it’s the study of pony activity in the past, primarily through the recovery and analysis of—” “I am not caring,” Resolute broke in. “Hard enough to be shovel out snow and ice for plant potato and other crop. Ice being thousand years old few inches below top. Don’t move easily.” Twilight sighed and looked away, disappointed that a fellow equine didn’t share the same enthusiasm for etymology as she did. “Right…” Haven said, filling in the lull in conversation. “Вы не могли бы нам водки? Что-то немного света для кобыл.” Resolute raised her eyebrows. “Вы должны позволить им жить некоторое время, что они здесь. Это, пожалуй, единственное, что нужно сделать.” “No, no,” Haven replied in Equiish before returning to Stalliongradi. “Они едва коснулся крепкой водкой и раньше, и в последний раз одна радуга были некоторые, Сараево были сожжены.” Resolute laughed, a deep and rumbling sound that Twilight was sure made the teeth in her jaw rattle. “Правильно! Не хотелось бы, чтобы это произошло здесь, не так ли? Не волнуйтесь, я получу что-нибудь легкое для них.” With that, Resolute smiled and walked towards the bar. Haven chuckled quietly and turned back to Twilight, who had one eyebrow raised in confusion. “What was so funny?” she asked, leaning a little ways away from Haven. Haven waved it off with a hoof. “Nothing. Just ordering some drinks to warm us up.” “I didn’t know vodka could be so hilarious.” “Don’t worry about it,” Haven insisted. In a few seconds, Resolute returned with their drinks before departing to another table, her auburn tail swishing in her wake. “It’s been a while since I’ve been back here,” Haven remarked as he thoughtfully sipped on his vodka. “But it’s just as I remember it. Resolute’s been working here for at least the past fifteen, twenty years, if not more. Glad to see some things never change.” Just then, a terrified squeak from Rainbow Dash knocked Haven out of his nostalgia. The table grunted and groaned as an impressive weight forced its way in. In one fluid motion, an orange and black-striped paw swept up Rainbow Dash’s tankard and returned it empty a second later. “Haven; I was wondering when you would get back,” a distinctively female voice purred. “Yóumín, it has been quite a while,” Haven answered without missing a beat. “I see we’re still learning the meaning of the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you?’” The figure sitting across from him and next to the trembling body of Rainbow Dash was no less remarkable for her size than for her rarity. Within a body that easily dwarfed Big Macintosh were coils of lean muscle under a coat of long orange and white fur. The figure’s feline face and bushy tail were all decorated in an entrancing pattern of black stripes that matched the pattern over every other inch of her body. Long claws scratched at the wooden table, tearing massive gashes out of the wood. With a long, pink tongue, the feline licked droplets of vodka off of her whiskers, making her massive, yellow teeth plainly shown in the process. Twilight at least had the decency to perform her spit-take back into her tankard before lowering it. “A… tigress?! I didn’t think your kind ever left the Far East! What are you doing here in Stalliongrad?” The tigress snickered and crumpled Rainbow Dash’s empty tankard in a powerful paw before passing it back. When she spoke, her exotic voice flowed over her words with the quickness and perfection of a running stream. “Wandering, mostly. Picking a place here or there to stay and fight; usually the side with the best food and shelter.” “Yóumín joined us a little more than a year back,” Haven said, nodding to the tigress. “We found her on the run in Stalliongrad. The rebellion offered her shelter and camaraderie, and she gave us her… remarkable skills in combat.” Instead of laughing, Yóumín purred. “The moment I got off the train, Black Cloaks were all over my striped behind, harassing me for this, that, and everything in between.” With a small flckt, the tigress unsheathed her claws and licked at their frighteningly sharp points. “I think they got the message after the first dozen had their throats ripped out. And, since I had made such a horrid first impression, I figured, ‘why not make it worse’ and jumped at the rebels’ offer for protection.” “That, and she didn’t want Roscherk to find her with a full company of Black Cloaks.” “Shut up,” Yóumín growled. “I could have killed that flying feather-fucker in a second.” With a small cough, she turned to the two mares at the table. “I apologize for the language.” “It’s okay,” Haven assured her. “You’ll find worse in any city you go to. I’m sure it’s nothing that they haven’t heard before.” Yóumín looked unconvinced. “Where I come from, you don’t curse someone unless you really mean it. I’m still amazed at how… loose you ponies are with your vocabulary.” “Yes, well, not all of us are so ‘loose’, as you put it,” Twilight insisted. “Where did you learn your Equiish? It’s fairly good.” Yóumín shrugged. “Picked it up in city to city. I spent a little time in Baltimare—the new part of town that’s more accepting of foreigners. Even there, though, I didn’t really fit in. For some reason or another, I decided to go east to this frozen wasteland, where I picked up the language easily enough.” “Wow,” Twilight remarked. “Just how many languages do you know?” The tigress actually had to pause to count on the toes of her paw. “Five. Tigrian, which is my native tongue, along with Equiish, Stalliongradski, Gryphonic, and Elkish, believe it or not.” “That’s impressive. Have you been to all those nations?” “More or less. I never really fit in anywhere outside the East. Stalliongrad’s the closest thing I’ve had to a home in years.” Glancing to her side, Yóumín noticed Rainbow Dash trembling for perhaps the first time and roughly hoisted her up with a paw before patting her on the head. “You don’t have anything to fear from me, colorful pony. Any friend of Haven’s is a friend of mine.” “…Name’s Rainbow Dash,” the pegasus murmured, still not reassured. “Rainbow Dash,” Yóumín repeated. Looking at Twilight, she cocked her head to the side. “And what’s your name? Let me guess… Purple Read?” Twilight’s ears flattened against her head at the name even as she recoiled slightly from it. “Purple…? No, miss, my name is Twilight Sparkle, personal student of Princess Celestia.” “Ah…” Yóumín purred. “I don’t understand you ponies and your names. But a student of the Princess, you say?” Then she laughed and slapped her paw on the table, causing the wood to groan in agony. “It must be strange to have an immortal tell you all what to do. Back in the East, there is just the family. A tigress is loyal to her family from the day she is born to the day she dies.” “Then why did you leave?” Rainbow Dash quietly squeaked. Yóumín sighed and leaned back on the bench, letting the backrest shoulder most of her musculature. “Because my family is dead. A rival family killed it. I escaped, and eventually made my way here. Now the rebellion is my family.” After a pause, she looked out the window into the blizzard outside. “Yóumín is not my birth name. It is simply what I am; a vagrant.” “What is your birth name, if you don’t mind me asking?” Twilight prompted. “Another time, Twilight Sparkle. Perhaps one day, when you have earned it, I shall tell you.” With a sigh, Yóumín slowly worked her way out of the seat and rose onto her four paws. “It was a pleasure talking with you all. I’m going to go hunting. You take care of them mares, alright, Haven? They’ve got good heads on their shoulders.” Haven smiled and waved to her. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll get them safely back to Baltimare in no time.” With a flick of her tail, Yóumín turned and roughly pushed open the tavern door, letting the wind slam it shut behind her. When she was gone, Haven laughed and emptied the rest of his vodka. “I can’t tell you how many times she’s saved us all,” he remarked. “I haven’t ever seen a pony that could stand up against her. It’s not just her power, either; she’s quicker on her paws than even a—what is it you call them? A Wonderbolt? It’s amazing really.” “Did she…” Rainbow began as she pushed around the crumpled remains of her tankard. “Did she say she was going to go hunting?” “She’s a tiger,” Haven replied as he shrugged his shoulders. “They’re carnivores.” “I’m surprised she’d even be able to find anything here,” said Twilight. “It’s not like there’s a lot of grass for wildlife to feed on.” “You’d be surprised,” Haven countered. “I don’t know how she does it, but she always comes back with blood on her paws and meat in her belly. She saves the feet of the rabbits, too, as some sort of good luck charm.” Twilight and Rainbow stared blankly at him, to which Haven just shrugged. “I don’t get it either.” “Right.” With a dissatisfied sigh, Twilight emptied the rest of her vodka and set the tankard aside, letting the alcohol warm her blood. She turned to look out the window; in the darkness of the storm, she could barely see the lumbering shadow of what she supposed was the tigress walking down the streets. The castle in the background loomed into the night, seemingly calling out to her. “Hey, Haven,” she began. “Hmm? What is it?” “Can you take me to Castle Black? I want to see what’s inside of it.” Haven bit down on his lip. “Well, uh, I guess, if you really want to. I normally wouldn’t, given the option.” “Why’s that?” Safe Haven sighed. “The locals around here are real superstitious. They claim the castle’s haunted or something. They don’t go in it. I know for sure that Baron Frostbite didn’t let his army go in it. Not a one of us have bothered to go in it. It’s a relic from thousands of years ago, that much is certain.” “Right…” Twilight murmured softly. “A relic, or perhaps a time capsule. I’m willing to bet that there are some things from the time of Hurricane in there. And it’s simply up to somepony with the gall to brave it to find them.” “Woah, now, Twi, one thing at a time,” Rainbow Dash broke in as she pulled a loose feather from her wing. “We haven’t even finished Hurricane’s journal yet, and you already want to go find more of this stuff?” “Rainbow Dash is right,” Haven said. “This is a matter that can wait. Now, come, I imagine you’re pretty tired. I’ll see if I can go find a room for you two to stay at. We’ll settle this issue in the morning.” “Alright,” Twilight relented. “If you insist.” “Good.” With a grunt, Haven stood up and collected the empty tankards on his back. “I’ll be back shortly.” Then he left, leaving Twilight to stare at the castle in the distance, trying to unravel its secrets. ----- “Ha ha! Raise those mugs high!” All was jovial as ever in the Legate’s Lookout, the rather large tavern just south of the palace in Cloudsdale. It was a favorite amongst the older Legionnaires—although ‘old’ was defined as having fought in the Red Cloud War, making most of its patrons in their late thirties or early forties. Wooden mugs of ale slammed down on worn tables with rhythmic regularity, and near one of the many fireplaces sat a few soldiers playing on their own instruments. The warm music filled the bar and effectively deadened the cold bluster of the blizzard just outside the cloudstone walls. It was difficult to even find room to stand in the Legate’s Lookout, it was so packed, but that did little to stop a group of soldiers from forming a small knot around a keg of ale and sing their drunken and merry songs to all present. Their pitch was awful and their rhythm something to be embarrassed by, but that didn’t stop them from singing. In fact, with each fresh mug of ale, they only got louder and more raucous. Stumbling through the last verse of their song, the soldiers finally managed to rally and finish on the same note. With one merry cheer, they all stomped their hooves down on the ground and broke apart slightly, laughing. The pegasi sitting nearest to them shouted friendly insults their way and stamped their hooves in applause. One of the pegasi in particular stood out as the leader among his compatriots. Although young for the company he enjoyed at the age of thirty-five, Scout Centurion Pathfinder of the 18th Cirran Legion absolutely dominated the center of the tavern with his impressive charisma. Despite missing most of the Red Cloud War from an injury suffered in Nimbus, Pathfinder had enough scars befitting a Praetorian, with the stories to match. Even the story behind his mark, a copper compass rose, was well worth a few drinks. His forest green coat was covered in pale white lacerations from Gryphon and Crystal weapons alike, and his dark brown mane was prematurely graying; but such matched his character, and Pathfinder wouldn’t have it any other way. “Good one, boys!” he cheered, patting each of his companions (some of them legates ten years older than he) on the back. He paused to dump the remains of his second keg into his tankard and down it in a few gulps; there was nothing Pathfinder liked more than mares and fine ale, and the Legate’s Lookout wasn’t known for being popular with mares. The only ones a soldier was likely to find would be the centurions and legates who could handle themselves, and a stallion was more likely to be picking his teeth up off the floor than bedding one of them. Setting the wooden mug aside, Pathfinder spread his wings and shook a few loose feathers out. Smiling to the ponies gathered around him, he made a drunken bow followed by a drunken salute. “We’ll be here all night, gentlecolts and the odd lady or two in the back.” He finished it up with a wink to a light blue mare by the bar, who simply shook her head and waved him off with a bored wing. Pathfinder smiled and shook his head. “Ah, can’t blame a stallion for trying. So, before us fine lads drink ourselves stupid—” “What, you’re not drunk yet?” a young private in the back called out, earning snickers and laughter. Pathfinder reproachfully held up his wings. “Be patient, greenwing! There’s no sense being drunk before you’ve had all your fun!” The comment drew a few whistles from the crowd, and the Centurion settled back against the keg of ale. “I figure we got about one more song left before I can’t see straight, so what’ll it be, lads?” The names of songs were thrown at him left and right, but Pathfinder ultimately settled down on one in particular. “You want the song of the Drunken Soldier, eh?” Turning to his fellow soldiers, he raised an eyebrow. “Shall we?” The ponies behind him all filled their mugs with ale and downed several heavy gulps in response. “Ha! Alright, let’s give it to them!” Kicking aside a stool, Pathfinder walked a few steps closer to the crowd and cleared his throat. When he sang, his hoarse voice wavered but quickly settled into its loud rhythm after the first few words. What do you do for a drunken soldier? What do you do for a drunken soldier? What do you do for a drunken soldier? Early in the morning As soon as Pathfinder finished the first stanza, the quartet of soldiers behind him quickly picked up the response, somehow arranging their half-drunken pitches into one cohesive harmony. Sit down and listen to his little story now Tales of valor and passing glory now Sit down and listen to his bitter story now Early in the morning Pathfinder smiled and picked up his mug of ale, proudly displaying it to the rest of the bar while he sang the next call. Joined the service when he was so young Fought a battle when he was too young Killed a boy who was just too young Early in the morning As the song got to its chorus, Pathfinder rose on his hind legs and waved his wings to the patrons around him. “Come on! Altogether now!” Hey-oh up we’re rising Hey-oh and there we’re fighting Hey-oh we’re up there dying Early in the morning “Good, good!” he cheered back to them. Merry laughter and applause followed, and Pathfinder quickly cleared his throat before moving on to the call. Made some dear friends on the front line Thought they had a little more time then Watched one by one as they fell in their stride Early in the morning As before, the soldiers behind him answered his call with a stanza of response, raising their voices to be heard over the joviality in the tavern. Died in that cold field all alone now Never got to see their child born now Never got to hold that little hoof now Early in the morning What do you say to his weeping mother now? What do you do for his heart-broke lover now? How do you face his pleading child now? Early in the morning Just as Pathfinder was beginning to lead the chorus again, a loud clatter and a smash at the door interrupted him. Normally such noise would go unnoticed in the tavern, but when it was accompanied by a bloody Legionnaire sailing through the doorway and crumpling just inside, it was a different matter altogether. The music became dead silent as a trio of young Legionnaires proudly walked into the bar, dragging a centurion behind them. All eyes were on the lead Legionnaire of the group, a faded orange stallion dressed in recently polished armor. He moved with control and authority, and he matched each and every patron with a powerful stare of his own. With a flick of his tail, the Legionnaire walked farther into the bar with his companions dragging the beaten centurion along. Pathfinder watched for a few moments and bit down on the side of his lip. He didn’t like this one bit. Something was off; this was far more than a drunken fight. Come to think of it, he could hear things through the open door of the tavern. Awful things. He carefully loosened the latch on the sword at his side before attempting to welcome the newcomers. “Must have been something pretty serious if a group of privates would beat up a centurion over it,” he began. “Tell me; was she pretty?” The question earned a few snickers from the older soldiers closest to Pathfinder, but they were silenced with a scowl from the lead Legionnaire. “Funny,” he leered, walking a few steps closer to Pathfinder, “but hardly the reason I’m here.” Pathfinder mouthed an ‘oh’ and smiled to his companions. “So it’s ale you want then? Well, me and the boys did a pretty good number on it in the past few hours, but I think there’s an untapped keg around here somewhere for you.” “I’m not here to drink. I’m here to find those loyal to the cause.” There were several murmurs and grumbles among the soldiers in the tavern, but Pathfinder simply scratched his chin. “Cause? What kind of cause is this? The cause to help a young Legionnaire lose his virginity?” Several short bouts of raucous laughter answered him, but the Legionnaire only responded by shaking several tongues of fire out of his wings. “The cause to take back Dioda, you drunken bastard.” Silence. Now firmly in control of the situation, the young soldier began to pace back and forth across the center of the bar. “That’s right. Dioda. I’m looking for soldiers who are willing to take it back. Together, we’ll burn the Gryphon hordes and restore what is ours. The Empire will rise again, spanning an ocean with its indomitable might.” Many of the soldiers shared curious whispers, and some moved a bit closer to the Legionnaire. Pathfinder, however, simply took a swig of his ale and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What makes you think that we’re going to follow a young and untested soldier like yourself on a suicide mission half a world away?” A pause, and then, “And what claim do you have to be emperor?” The Legionnaire shook his head. “You’re not going to be following me. I’m not going to be emperor.” Hopping onto a table, the soldier kicked away the tankards of beer and spread his wings. “Our cause is the just cause of Imperator Cyclone, First Emperor of the new Cirran Empire.” “Idiots,” Pathfinder mumbled under his breath. “You need more than a few devoted soldiers to destroy Gryphus. And I’ll tell you what, even if Imperator Cyclone’s a traitor, the entire damn Legion stands against him.” Turning to his comrades, Pathfinder smirked. “Swift Spear should just use the belt on him and discipline the pup.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” the orange soldier countered. Hopping off of the table, he walked over to one of the drawn curtains and threw it open. A collective gasp punctuated by several curses were made in response. Even Pathfinder trotted away from the center of the tavern to look out the window. Raising a wing to his eyes, he squinted through the gray morning at what was beyond. Chaos. Absolute chaos. Several buildings within the city block alone had already caught fire. He could hear the screams of dying Legionnaires and the crash and clang of skysteel on skysteel. The air was swarming with pegasi, fighting amongst each other like two rival nests of hornets. Even the streets were littered with dying and dead Legionnaires, while others fought tooth and nail for their lives. “You say the Legion stands against him?” the young Legionnaire taunted. “Cyclone already has the Legion. He already has the Praetorian.” He smiled at Pathfinder, an awful, evil thing. “Those that stand against him will die.” Pathfinder was too dumbfounded to move. This couldn’t be happening. Gods, no. The orange soldier grimaced as he walked forward. “That’s right. You can either fight for Swift Spear and the rest of Hurricane’s deluded ideals, or you can fight for Emperor Cyclone. Through his lead, we shall unify the three tribes under the Cirran banner, and from there, we will take back Dioda. If you’re still not convinced of the legitimacy of Cyclone’s claim, look outside. There you see what happens when you stand against the Emperor.” Pausing to watch the angry or frightened faces of the soldiers around him, the traitor sneered and walked towards the center of the tavern. “If you want to live, stand by me, and together we’ll cut off the rotted flesh of Cloudsdale and make the Empire strong. If you want to die, then I dare you to stand against the might of Emperor Cyclone’s Legion. Your names will not be remembered when we take back Stratopolis and slaughter the griffon hordes.” “And what do you know about the griffon hordes?” The orange Legionnaire glared at Pathfinder, who had turned away from the window to confront him. The Centurion’s face was twisted in rage, and he slammed his mug down angrily on the window sill. “You weren’t there in the Red Cloud War. You never saw what they did to us.” He nodded, attempting to swallow some of his anger but not succeeding. “I was there. This wound on my side?” He turned his left flank towards the treacherous Legionnaire, where a long, white scar from shoulder to stomach was visible. “This scar was dealt by a griffon spear. I was a prisoner of war when we fought them. You ever hear of pegasus POWs?” The soldier stared at him, and Finder shook his head. "Thought not. That's because most of us didn't last three days. I was there a week, just one week, and I was one of the lucky ones. If the emperor hadn't dispatched a team to save us, I would've died, too." Taking a shaky and furious breath, Pathfinder glared at the orange soldier. “Griffons don’t fight like Crystal barbarians. They’re ferocious and vicious. The spear that gored me was jagged and serrated into a thousand points. It took me six months to recover from that. And no matter how ‘just’ you or Cyclone think this cause is, I will not aid a usurper that seeks to kill off those leaders who saved Cirra from certain destruction.” The Legionnaire scoffed at Pathfinder. “Noble words from a relic of the war. But the war isn’t over. Cyclone is going to finish it. So,” he proclaimed, boldly facing the entirety of the tavern, “you can either fight with me, with honor, with Emperor Cyclone, or you can stand with him and die just like the rest of Cirra’s weak.” “I’m twice the soldier drunk than you are sober,” Pathfinder threatened. “I look forward to seeing you prove it,” the traitor retaliated. “So be it.” With a roar, Pathfinder flung the tankard of ale at the Legionnaire and kicked off of the wall, spreading his wings to gain distance. The Legionnaire deflected the tankard with his sword, but Pathfinder caught it in midair and slammed it down on the young soldier’s head. Wood scattered everywhere, and before the traitor could stumble backwards two steps, Pathfinder already unsheathed his sword and was plunging it into the gap under the Legionnaire’s breastplate. As the two fell to the ground, one dead and one alive, the bar exploded into chaos and death. ----- The large house on the edge of Cloudsdale’s northern district hardly stood out from the even larger houses around it. In fact, it seemed to blend in among the white walls and with roofs of its neighbors. But despite that, it had some inkling of a reputation. After all, the residence of Commander Hurricane’s younger sister was bound to attract attention. It wasn’t the royal palace, but it was finely decorated with all sorts of artwork made by pegasus, unicorn, and earth pony artists alike. Some of the expertly tasteful selections even predated the Exodus by a few years. Statues and pottery, both abstract and simplistic, were strategically placed according to the very definition of aestheticism. For a mare who spent most of her time outside of Cirra’s borders, Twister knew how to arrange what little of Cirra she owned to her liking. The house was neatly divided into rooms centered around a large kitchen, which was furnished in only the finest of cloudstone tabletops and surfaces. The clinking of utensils against plates gently echoed throughout the house, accompanied with the voices of a stallion and two young fillies. Twister’s husband, Echo Wing, and her daughters, Gust and Squall, were currently eating what little dinner Swift Spear’s mandated rations allowed them. Twister, however, was uncharacteristically absent. The mare in question wasn’t missing dinner by choice. She was confined to her study, fighting against the disease that was political paperwork. A massive stack of papers, scrolls, and documents of all kinds dominated the side of her cloudstone desk. Every once in a while the mare would reach and pull one over, review it, groan, write some notes down, and occasionally sign one. The process had repeated itself for millions of times over the past two weeks, ever since Hurricane had left Cloudsdale. Twister grumbled as she stamped a wax seal on another scroll. Here she was handling paperwork, when her brother was out adventuring in some undiscovered land. Weren’t their jobs supposed to be the exact opposite? The chance to see new lands and meet new ponies was the sole reason Twister agreed to become Cirra’s Legatus in the first place, not to do paperwork. As she scribbled down some annotations on a document, the quill Twister held in her mouth suddenly snapped, sending a few spatters of ink onto the desk around her. Sighing, Twister flung the light brown feather away and held up her left wing. There was already a noticeable gap in her secondaries where she had tugged feathers out to use as quills over the past few weeks. The spring molt couldn’t come soon enough for her, and she’d hopefully be able to get rid of that spot on her wing. Or she could stop pulling out her feathers altogether. That’d work too. Twister pushed her chair back from the desk and leaned over its backrest, stretching her cramped spine and raising her forelegs skyward. After a satisfied groan, the Legatus lowered herself back into a sitting position and reached for a bite of the lettuce and cold chicken that she had been nibbling on for the past hour. As she chewed on the food, she regarded the stack of paper sitting on her desk with the ultimate manifestation of disdain. “Fuck. You.” Disdainful indeed. Scowling at the paper a moment longer, Twister slid her chair back and stumbled out of it. She immediately dropped towards the floor like a cat and stretched her limbs out one by one. After that, she spread her wings and let them pull her body back into a standing position. By the Gods, she had been working for too long. Far too long. Deciding to remedy that problem, Twister pushed open the door to her study and walked into the kitchen where her family was cleaning up from the meal. Well, more like Echo Wing was, while the kids were roughhousing on the living room floor. Sauntering up to her husband, Twister wrapped a wing around him and kissed him on the neck. “Missed you too, Twist,” Echo Wing answered her as he rubbed the top of her muzzle with a hoof. Twister’s husband was a rather tall stallion with an off-white coat and a light gray mane, but what had first caught Twister’s eyes years ago was his wings. They were beautiful things, with secondary feathers a light shade of gray and his primaries darker. She had spent many a cold night hunkered down in bed with those wings wrapped around her. “Dinner was alright?” Twister asked, leaning her head against Echo’s neck. “Mmm… the food was decent for winter rations. I didn’t get to see your face though. I’m starting to think you’re cheating on me with this ‘paperwork’ stallion.” “Shut up,” Twister giggled, lightly punching Echo in the chest. “Just remember whose salary got us this nice house.” “It was either this or live in the palace,” Echo joked as he set a soapy plate aside. “Sometimes I don’t know why you turned that down when your brother offered. Not many blacksmiths get to live under the same roof as the Commander. Do you think he would have let me use the skyforges?” “I’m telling you, all you have to do is ask.” Stepping out of her embrace with Echo, she stuck her hooves in the soapy water and began to help wash dishes. “Besides, I told you before that I’d rather avoid all the commotion that goes on there. Seriously, the Praetorians drill in the courtyards every morning at the crack of dawn.” “And that’s a bad thing? I would’ve liked to have seen that.” “Believe me, you would’ve had a good view of it. The room my brother was going to give us was right next to the courtyard.” Echo raised an eyebrow. “Can’t see what’s wrong with that.” Twister rolled her eyes. “You’ve obviously never tried reading while the Praetorians practice. Unlike the regulars, I’m pretty certain these guys try to kill each other when they drill. And they’re loud.” “Surely that can’t be your only reason for turning it down,” Echo countered. “That, and I hate it when my brother fawns over me. I appreciate that he’s concerned for my wellbeing, but seriously, ever since the Exodus he’s been on my case whenever I’m around the palace.” “I see.” “Don’t you ‘I see’ me,” Twister ordered as she splashed some water into Echo’s face with her wing. “You know I hate it when you do that.” “I know.” “Urgh!” Twister groaned, turning to face Echo. “Why do you have to do that?” Echo snickered. “Because you’re adorable when you’re angry.” “Right, and you’ll be adorable with a broken—” “Mommy! Daddy! Come quick!” one of Twister’s children shouted excitedly. “I think the Legion’s doing a parade!” “It’s not a parade, dummy,” the other of her children, Squall, said. “It’s obviously some sort of war game! Just look at them! They’re all flyin’ around and stuff like fwooshhhh wooosh whoaahh!” Twister and Echo both turned away from the sink and walked over to the window their foals were peering out of. Twister scratched her head. Swift Spear wasn’t planning on any demonstrations, Cyclone was supposed to be conducting some campaign in the west against Crystal bandits, and Typhoon was… well, Twister only hoped that she’d be able to secure her niece’s freedom. That was what half the paperwork on her desk was about, anyway. “Wow! They must really be going all out, then! Look at the fire!” Twister’s heart stopped cold. She turned to look at Echo and saw that the same pale expression had overtaken his face. Looking back to her kids, Twister trotted up to them and wrapped each one in a wing. “Fire? Just what are you…?” What she saw took her words away. Cloudsdale was burning, spewing black smoke into the sky. Every second another fire would spring up somewhere else, and the ring of flames only continued to spread outwards. Based on her knowledge of the city, Twister concluded they had started in the east wing, where the entirety of the Legion was stationed. The skies above the city were even less comforting to the mare. Spinning and fighting through the rising black clouds of noxious smoke, thousands of pegasi fought in a deadly aerial dance. Their combat formed a sprawling and contorting black cloud of blood and death that grew in size as pegasi from across the city flew up to join the melee. Bodies fell from the sky with frightening regularity; thankfully, Twister’s house was too far away to make out anything in great detail. “By the Gods!” Echo exclaimed. “What in the name of… this can’t be happening!” The excitement on the fillies’ faces changed into nervous anxiety as they watched their parents’ bewildered faces. “Mommy? What’s going on?” Twister was too shocked to respond. This couldn’t be happening. But yet it was. For some reason, the Legion was ripping itself apart over its own skies. No. Not for some reason. There could only be one reason, and Twister knew what it was. She had voiced her concerns to Typhoon little more than a month ago. “Damn it, Cyclone,” she growled as she rose to her hooves. Turning to Echo, she nodded slowly. Echo took a step closer to her. “Twister? Twist, please don’t. This isn’t your problem! You don’t even know how to fight!” Squall and Gust looked between their parents as fear slowly took root in their minds. Twister noticed them and, sparing enough time to glare at her husband, bent down and gave her children a quick hug. “Go to your room and listen to whatever Daddy says, okay?” The two fillies nodded, and Twister pulled them close one last time. “I love you two.” “Love you too, Mommy,” both fillies mumbled into her shoulders. Twister smiled and looked at their faces. So young, so innocent. “You two are Mommy’s pride and joy. I wouldn’t give you up for the world. I love you so much.” Then she stood up and slowly ushered them away with her wings. When they had finally scampered off, Twister glanced at Echo and went to their bedroom. There she found the ornamental sword Hurricane had given to her long ago. The gold trim was a little deteriorated with age, but the skysteel blade was sharp as ever. It would do for her purposes. Echo stopped her at the doorway as she tried to leave. “Please, Twist, I’m begging you. Think about this rationally! We can get the kids out of Cloudsdale, they’re old enough to glide long distances! Please, think about them!” Twister hardly regarded him as she strapped the scabbard down to her left flank. “I have to go find Swift. She’s like a sister to me, and I’ll be damned if I let my brother’s wife all alone in a palace full of soldiers out for her neck. She won’t know what’s going on until it’s too late unless somepony warns her, like myself.” Echo pressed a hoof against his shoulder, desperation in his eyes. “Twist, the kids—” “Take them out of the city yourself if you’re worried about them. In fact, that’s probably a good idea. I’m sure being Hurricane’s sister has me as a pretty important target.” “I need you to help me!” Echo protested. “No, you don’t,” Twister countered. “You said so yourself; they can glide long distance, they’ll be able to get to the ground safely.” “Damn it, Twist, I don’t want to lose you!” Echo shouted at her. When Twister didn’t respond, he lowered his forehead against hers. “Look, you’re planning on fighting trained Legionnaires, hell, maybe even Praetorians, and you’ve got no training of your own, and no armor! I don’t want you to die! Please don’t do this to me!” Twister touched Echo’s face with a hoof. “I don’t want to go either, but I have to. You know that leaving you pains me more than anything. But I can promise you this,” she said as she took a step back. “I will come back alive. With Swift or without, I’m not dying today. Pity on the pony that tries to kill me.” Echo sighed and lowered his head in defeat. “We’ll be at the Horns Divide. You’ll know where to find us.” Twister nodded. “Where we had our honeymoon. I’ll never forget it.” Reaching out a wing, Echo enveloped Twister in a tight embrace and nuzzled her forehead before planting a kiss between her eyes. “Come back safe, Twist.” Twister happily sighed as she pressed her neck against his. “I will, Echo.” “I love you.” “I love you too.” Then the couple kissed and broke apart. This time Echo didn’t stop Twister as she tried to leave the bedroom. He only watched, sadly, as she made her way to the front door and opened it. Twister paused at the door and looked back. With a sad smile and a nod, she waved goodbye. Closing the door was the hardest moment of her life. Taking a deep breath, Twister fiddled with the weight of the sword at her side and spread her wings. In a few seconds she was airborne, making low circles over her house. Then, without a second look back, she started on a wide arc away from the fighting and towards the palace. ----- Swift Spear sighed as she sat in her bedroom. Ever since she had come to odds with Cyclone a few days ago, it seemed like the Legion was becoming more and more unresponsive. There was a divide in Cirra, that much was certain, and it only seemed to get worse each day Hurricane was absent. He was the glue that held the nation together; without him, it was slowly splintering into pieces. She would need to have a word with Cyclone. She understood his plight well enough; she was suffering from Typhoon’s capture as well. Unlike her son, however, Swift was determined to let her sister-in-law handle things diplomatically. Storming River Rock with a company of Praetorians was precisely the last thing Cirra needed to do. The tribes were treading perilously close to the edge as it was; honestly, she was surprised Typhoon’s capture didn’t start a war with the Diamond Kingdom. Suddenly her ears perked towards the door. Holding her breath, Swift set down the book she was reading and listened. Sure enough, she could hear panicked hooves clopping along the cloudstone floor in the hallway outside her room. The distinct rattling of armor came as well. Quickly shouldering a spear, Swift readied herself as the hoofsteps came closer. “Imperator!” the pony outside her door began shouting as he began to pound on it. “Imperator Swift Spear, come quick! We need your help!” “Help?” Swift cautiously replied as she moved towards the door. She didn’t like this at all; the pony at her door didn’t have the voice of one of her usual Praetorian Guards stationed outside. “What could you need my help for? Have you at least brought this issue up with Imperator Cyclone?” “I couldn’t, ma’am, you have to see this for yourself!” “And what, pray tell, stopped you from doing so?” Swift sharply retorted as she began to unlatch the door. She hated it when Legionnaires ignored protocol and brought issues directly to her. She was busy enough as it was; she had subordinates to handle their petty concerns. Something about this soldier, however, told Swift this was no petty concern. Perhaps it was the frenzied and fearful look on his face. Perhaps it was the blood and feathers decorating his weapons and armor. A painful gash had completely wiped away the hair on his left brow, and blood trickled from several wounds around and underneath his armor. He was panting as well, and several feathers hung loose from his wings after what Swift supposed was a frantic flight. “By the Gods, soldier!” Swift Spear exclaimed. “What in Razgriz’ name happened to you?!” The pegasus swallowed some of the blood trickling from his nose and saluted. “Private Quick Shot, ma’am. And we have to get the palace locked down, fast. Cloudsdale’s in total anarchy outside!” “Shit,” Swift muttered under her breath. “Soldier, tell me everything. Now.” The soldier known as Quick Shot took a deep breath and relaxed his wings. “I was off-duty in the barracks when it started. Some other Legionnaires—centurions and legates by the looks of them—came into the place and started rounding up troops. They were saying a lot of stuff about a ‘New Empire’ and your so—erm, I mean, Imperator Cyclone. Lots of soldiers went over to them, but me and my friends didn’t believe them. Then…” he shuddered and glanced at the blood on his hooves, “Then they attacked us. Called us heretics and griffon sympathizers. I… we…” He swallowed hard and looked back at Swift, tears in his eyes. “I had to kill my way out of there. My friends didn’t make it. But it’s not just the barracks. This is going on all over the city, and they’ll be here before we know it.” Swift pursed her lips and held her spear with a wing. “Alright. Gather up any loyal soldiers left around the palace and take them to the throne room. It’s the most secure part of the palace. We’ll hold out there as long as we can.” Quick Shot nodded. “Be careful whom you trust, ma’am. They could be anywhere.” “Right.” With a flick of her wing, Swift dismissed the Legionnaire and began to gallop towards the throne room. She couldn’t believe it had come to this. She always knew her son was rash, but she never thought he was treasonous. At least now she knew why she was having so many problems with the Guard. Cyclone must have been working on this for months. Was losing Typhoon just another part of his plan? She rounded a corner and came to a dead stop. There were three Legionnaires conversing in the hall just outside the throne room. Were they loyal, or had they sided with her son? She didn’t want to risk getting stabbed in the back. Thankfully, she had an idea, and with a little luck, she would know for certain where they stood. Letting down her guard, Swift loosened her spear and began to calmly walk towards the three soldiers. They all stopped their conversations and turned to watch her, unsure of what to do next. Swift raised a wing as she approached. Hopefully this would work. “Are you looking forward to killing some griffons, soldiers?” The three soldiers watched her for a second longer before the foremost among them relaxed and smiled. “Our cause is just; with the unicorns behind us, Dioda will be ours.” Unicorns? That was shocking news to Swift, but she did her best to push the surprise away from her face and calmly nodded. “That’s what I thought.” Before they could even react, Swift snapped her spear-carrying wing open, flipping the heavy nimbus skysteel weapon into the air, where she clamped her jaws around the haft. Then, spinning on her back hoof, she let the weapon slide through her jaw until she was holding onto just the end and clubbed the lead pegasus over the head with the point. As he fell, his companions jumped back in surprise but quickly drew their weapons as their training kicked in. It would do little to help them. As the first pegasus stumbled to the ground sputtering around broken teeth, Swift Spear twirled through the air like a dancer and planted both her rear hooves on the traitor’s neck as she landed. His windpipe collapsed with a satisfying pop, and Swift lashed out at the other two soldiers with her spear to force them back. Then, with a twist of her wings, she flipped and landed on four hooves, her iconic weapon balanced in her mouth. Attempting to overwhelm Swift, the two remaining soldiers both rushed her with their swords brandished. The first pegasus to reach the mare swung his sword down towards her head, while the second tried to jab at her flank. Swift dived between the both of them, catching both weapons on opposite ends of her spear. With a heave, she forced them backwards a step and tossed the weapon into the air. Rising onto her hind legs, Swift caught the spear with the fetlocks of her forehooves and slammed it down towards the first soldier. The traitor was able to catch it on his sword, but the nimbus skysteel produced a shower of lightning that connected with his face. As he reeled backwards in pain from the electricity, Swift quickly pulled back on her spear and jammed it forward as hard as she could. It connected solidly with the pegasus, puncturing his armor along with his lungs and much more. Giving the weapon a twist, Swift dislodged the weapon from the corpse’s chest and swung it at the remaining soldier. Luckily for him, he was fast enough to duck underneath the attack and avoid getting his brains splattered against the opposite wall. Jabbing forward with his sword, he managed to draw blood on Swift’s foreleg. The mare grunted in response, but the scratch did little to slow her down. Snarling, Swift rammed her shoulder into the pegasus and sent him stumbling back. Then, she began to break apart the soldier’s defense. The traitor put up a good fight, managing to parry and deflect most of Swift’s attacks, but his luck failed him when he tripped over the body of one of his companions. As he fell, Swift Spear ruthlessly drove her weapon through his shoulder and into the cloudstone floor, where the point stuck, leaving the soldier screaming in agony and struggling to break free. Drawing a dagger from her flank, Swift kneeled down in front of the stuck stallion. Placing the dagger to his neck, Swift looked into his eyes and spoke one final prayer for him. “May Garuda judge your soul and send you to where your honor demands it go.” The soldier struggled a second longer against Swift’s weapon before placing his hooves against her chest. “Please! Wait, I ca—!” Swift didn’t give him the chance to finish. Whatever he had left to say escaped through the bloody gash in his throat as his eyes rolled back and his body went limp. Sighing, Swift wiped off her dagger on the soldier’s own coat before placing it back in its sheath. Then, with a few hard tugs, she dislodged the spear from the ground and kicked the dead Legionnaire’s body off of it. “Right. Throne room dead ahead,” she muttered to herself as she folded the bloody spear under her wing. As she walked into the massive room, she made a quick glance around to check for any hidden pegasi. Finding none, she turned around and slowly shut the massive doors and lowered the heavy bars in place. “May Mobius cast his mercy over our skies.” ----- The winds were good to Hurricane and Pan Sea the entire flight home. There was a strong and steady tailwind to accelerate their progress, and luckily most of the storms had cleared out of their path. Killing the two windigos seemed to have lessened the storm over the Compact lands, but it was by no means broken. Every once in a while, a strong wind shear like the one they were carving through now would drive the two soldiers off course and fling hail into their eyes. After spending two days in warm and pleasant lands, it was almost insufferable to fly through snow and ice again. “You think they’re going to listen to us?!” Pan Sea shouted over the roaring winds. “The earth pony Board and King Lapis have no reason to trust pegasi, Commander!” “I know!” Hurricane shouted back. “But it would take too long for Chancellor Puddinghead and Princess Platinum to trek all the way back to their capitals! That’s why we have to try and get the other tribes moving without them!” “But how?!” “I don’t know, but Platinum gave me some of her mane, and Puddinghead gave me his hat!” Hurricane replied. “Do you have any idea how much importance the earth ponies place on their hats?! The Board will know it’s from him!” “I sure hope so, or else everything we overcame in Equestria will be for nothing!” Pan Sea called back. Hurricane grunted as a gale pushed him several feet to the side, jabbing ice into his face all the while. “You and me both, Pansy, but first we need to get back to Cloudsdale! Nothing else gets done until I see my wife and children and make sure they’re still okay!” A cold sheet of rain and hail blasted Pan Sea, causing him to gasp and his flight to wobble as he struggled through. With a few determined flaps (and a few loose feathers) he was able to weather through it and stay by Hurricane’s side. “I’m getting sick of all this rain and ice… how close are we?” “We should be there in a few more minutes!” Hurricane shouted as he struggled over some turbulent winds. “Once we pass this cloud ridge, we’ll see…” Pan Sea struggled in silence for a few seconds, waiting for Hurricane to finish his sentence. “We’ll see what, sir?” Hurricane stopped flying and began to hover in place. “Cloudsdale… by the Gods, what happened?!” Straining as hard as he could, Pan Sea fought to navigate his petite body over the storm clouds and gales to hover by Hurricane’s side. What he saw was entirely beyond belief. He had expected a city buried under snow and ice, but no, that wasn’t even close to how it looked now. Cloudsdale was on fire. At this distance, it was difficult to make out, but among the natural grays and blacks of the storm were several plumes of quite unnatural smoke and haze. Fires roared out of the windows of the largest buildings, and several bore heavy scarring along their facades. Both ponies winced as a loud snap and a boom sent a multistory apartment crumbling to the ground, shedding blocks of cloudstone as it fell, spinning, from the great heights of Cloudsdale. High above the city streets was a swarm of angry pegasi ripping each other apart. Blood, wings, bodies, and weapons plummeted down to the ground with each kill. The air currents trailing off of the fighters’ feathers cut grooves and niches into the rising plumes of smoke. As Hurricane watched, more combatants would fly up in small groups to join the melee. It was absolute chaos. “By the Gods!” Hurricane cursed, “It’s Feathertop all over again!” “What’re we going to do, Commander?” Pan Sea asked. “We don’t even know who’s fighting for who or what started this whole mess!” “That’s why we’re going to find out!” Hurricane shouted as he lowered his shoulder and sprinted towards the city, leaving a few black feathers behind him. The wind tried with all its might to hold the Commander back, but the pegasus whose very name was a storm shoved it aside and made his way forward. Following in his wake, Pan Sea tried to keep up slightly less impressively. “Now I know how Haysar felt!” Hurricane spat. “To see victory come so close and get stabbed in the back! May Mobius give the pegasus responsible mercy, for I shall deliver them none!” Private Pan Sea was too out of breath from trailing Hurricane to respond. In several exhausting minutes, Hurricane and Pan Sea found themselves on the outskirts of the city. The fighting was much more brutal from up close, and it gave the Red Cloud War veteran haunting flashbacks to fighting griffons high up in the skies. Even without the ferocity and ruthlessness of griffon combatants, blood rained freely onto the cloudstone streets, painting them disconcerting shades of pink and red. Hurricane wasn’t sure where to begin, so he flew along the edge of the city, trying to avoid combat as best he could. Ducking between and around burning buildings, the Commander and Pan Sea eventually made their way to one of the main downtown streets. There they landed amidst smoke and ashes, with several mangled bodies lining the road on either side of them. “Damn it,” Hurricane cursed as he walked up to the nearest body. The pegasus’ glassy eyes were half closed, and his neck flopped loosely around a gash running down one side. Nearby was a bloody sword with bits of fur and feathers stuck to it. With a sigh and no way to determine who the soldier fought for, Hurricane closed his eyes and moved on to the next body. “They’re all sorts of ranks,” Pan Sea commented as he spread the wings of a dead soldier to guide his soul to the afterlife. “Legionnaires, centurions, even legates. What do you make of it?” “It means whoever orchestrated this coup didn’t pull it off cleanly,” Hurricane said. “There was still a sizable faction loyal to me and Swift. There must still be, judging by the scale of the fight up there. I only hope that we’ve got the numbers on our side. Whoever started this damn thing didn’t think that the true Legion would put up such a fight.” “Or maybe they did, and there are a lot of them,” Pan Sea offered. “Maybe, but think about it,” Hurricane said as he turned to the private. “It only takes a few loose lips to blow a coup like this out of the sky. If this thing was larger than a thousand, word would have gotten out.” “Maybe it did, sir, but what if somepony really high up orchestrated the whole thing?” Hurricane paused, uncertain. It made sense; it would be possible to let something of this scale build up if the pony in charge was also in charge of how the Legion responded… No. It couldn’t be. He would never betray him like that. Just then, a group of pegasi sprinted around a corner, weapons gripped tightly in their teeth. Behind them was another group of pegasi with blood on their faces and dripping from their swords. The leader of the first group saw Hurricane and waved a desperate wing. Without sparing time to think, Hurricane reacted and dove towards the thick of things. In one smooth motion his sword was drawn even before his hooves hit the cloudstone. With a slight slant to the left, he slid past the pegasus that had waved to him and drove his sword straight through the neck of the bloody Legionnaire behind him. The soldier choked back on the sword in his throat even as his companions around him cursed. As they turned to face Hurricane, the real slaughter began. Kicking off from the corpse on his blade, Hurricane removed the sword and swung it behind his head. There was a shower of blood and a sickening gag, followed by the thump of another body as it hit the ground. Just then, the soldier opposite Hurricane jabbed his sword at him, but the black pegasus quickly spun to the side and rammed his wingblades into the traitor’s jaw. The bone not only dislocated; it shattered with such force that splinters were sent out of the soldier’s cheek. As he collapsed, the fourth traitor swung his sword down at Hurricane with lethal force, but the Commander quickly caught it on his opposite wing. With a slice of his sword, Hurricane liberated the soldier’s neck from his body and sent it tumbling away. As the corpse fell, the fifth and final Legionnaire threw away his weapon and shot into the air, flying for his life. Rather than pursue him, Hurricane sheathed his sword and watched the young soldier fly off. “Should have killed him,” the leader of the Legionnaire posse that Hurricane had saved mumbled. “He threw a tankard of ale at me at the Legate’s Lookout.” Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you’re more than enough of a soldier to shake that off.” The soldier, a forest green stallion, simply shrugged his wings and looked off to the distance. “Wasn’t worried about getting hurt. It was some damn good ale that he wasted.” Hurricane shook his head, exasperated. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on, soldier?” The pegasus shrugged. “Name’s Pathfinder, sir. We were leading these traitors into a trap…” “Looks more like you were retreating to me,” Hurricane observed. “A Legionnaire never retreats, we just advanced in the opposite direction.” Hurricane remained unconvinced. Pathfinder coughed awkwardly. “Well, I was having a good time at the Legate’s Lookout until your son’s devoted came in and started trashing the place—” “Wait, Cyclone?” Hurricane interrupted. “Soldier, you better not be making that up.” “With all due respect, sir, who else would be able to muster a force of fifteen thousand to try and take Cloudsdale while you were gone?” Hurricane gritted his teeth and swore. After a moment of silence, he looked up with a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes. Turning to Pathfinder, the Commander nodded and loosened his sword. “I need to get to the palace. My wife is in danger, and my daughter—” “Your daughter’s not in Cloudsdale, sir,” Pathfinder informed him. “She’s in a prison cell in River Rock.” Hurricane stared at him, dumbfounded. Finally, with a screech of rage, Hurricane slammed his hoof into the ground. “Soldier, get me to the palace. Now. Maybe I can fix this mess.” Pathfinder nodded. “I’ll getcha past most of the fighting, sir. They don’t call me Pathfinder for nothing.” As he passed Hurricane he looked over his shoulder and grinned. “When this shit storm’s all over and the sky stops falling, drinks are on me, Commander.” Then he and his companions took wing and began to circle west of the palace. Hurricane followed them with Pan Sea at his side. The yellow pegasus, who until now had been quiet, piped up. “How did you know they were the good guys, sir?” Hurricane shook his head and accelerated after Pathfinder. “The ‘bad guys’ wouldn’t be so happy to see the pony whose government they’re trying to overthrow show up. Plus…” he paused as he flew. “Lucky guess?” If the atmosphere had been more appropriate, Pan Sea would have chuckled. Instead, he found himself holding his breath as the group of pegasi skirted around the edges of the fighting, slowly making their way closer to the palace. ----- Twister slammed her back against the side of a dark alleyway as several soldiers rushed past. She couldn’t tell who they were fighting for; she couldn’t tell who anypony was fighting for. All she knew was that Legionnaires were massacring each other all across Cloudsdale. The fighting in the sky had only gotten worse, and the free-for-all literally rained blood onto the ground underneath it. Twister cursed as she looked at her wing and tried to shake out several drops of blood from it. So far, luck was with her, and none of it was her own. Peering around the corner, Twister made sure that everyone around her was too occupied with running each other through on their blades to notice one lightly armed mare. Taking a deep breath, she extended her wings and slammed them against her sides twice, accurately crossing the street and concealing herself in another alleyway in less than a second. The short sprints were starting to become exhausting, but she had little other choice. If a soldier cornered her, she was as good as dead. Taking a deep breath, Twister again peered into the street. A flurry of arrows sailed past her head, and she cursed as she stumbled backwards into the alley. Another company of Legionnaires had joined the fight, this time a group of archers, and Twister could see dozens of ponies suddenly stop their fighting to clutch at the hafts of wood sticking out of their throats. There was more shouting, and suddenly two ponies appeared in the alley, bows drawn. With a grunt, Twister quickly rolled to the side and slammed her face against the cloudstone wall of a building. As soon as she did, she heard two arrows skitter across the ground where she just was. With an athletic tumble, Twister was back on her hooves and running in the opposite direction as the archers grasped more arrows to reload. Fearing for her life, Twister threw caution to the wind and galloped away as fast as she could. Winding through corner after corner, the mare sprinted past courtyards and the decorated facades of the homes of upper class of Cirra. As she ran, she glanced upwards. The palace still stood out strong against the chaos around it, but most of the fighting had moved into that area. Cyclone’s soldiers were quickly gaining ground, and the scattered and confused Legion was struggling to repel them, much less identify them. “Rrraaugh!!” Twister gasped and instinctively ducked just in time to feel a sword shave several long hairs from her mane. Her momentum carried her forward, and she ended up sliding underneath the burly and well-toned body of a centurion. Unfortunately, even though she had managed to dodge the soldier’s first attack, a blind kick with his rear hoof struck her across the chin and sent her tumbling away. Spitting out dust and cloudstone, Twister scrambled to her hooves. The centurion was coming back around for her, his sword still tightly clamped in his jaws and his wingblades dripping blood. A red smear of paint decorated one side of his helmet; Twister supposed that was how Cyclone’s soldiers identified each other. His armor was covered in blood and small dents from the futile attacks of ponies he had killed to get here. Now he lowered his neck and advanced towards her, eyes practically glistening with bloodlust. Backing up, Twister reached down and pulled out her sword as well. The tarnished gold trim caught the light slightly, but the centurion only laughed as he advanced. “Nice sword you got there, filly. Who gave that to you? Some legate with a crush on you?” Twister growled at him and stood up, straight as she could manage. “My brother, Commander Hurricane, gave me this sword years ago. I suggest you back off and leave me be, and maybe nothing will happen to you.” The mention of Commander Hurricane was enough to pause the centurion, but then he only stepped forward with a menacing smile. “Hurricane’s dead, and Swift Spear’s Legion is broken. There’s nopony who can help you now, filly.” Twister kept pace with him in the opposite direction, her eyes never leaving his. Her heart was pounding; with the exception of Zephyrus, nopony had ever tried to kill her before. She couldn’t imagine her brother doing this day in and day out. The prospect of death was terrifying as much as it was energizing. Suddenly, Twister’s back hoof made contact with a wall behind her. She glanced over her shoulder in surprise, and the mistake gave the centurion the opening he was looking for. With a ferocious war cry, he charged forward and drove his sword down at the mare. Twister recognized her mistake just in time, and she managed to flop roughly to the side to avoid the strike. The centurion’s blade caught cloudstone for half a second, but with impressive force, he ripped the weapon out and swung it at Twister in combination with his wingblades. Gritting her teeth, Twister rolled as far away as she could before spinning back up to her hooves. She was immediately rewarded with a slash across her face from a wingblade, and she cursed as blood dripped into her eyes. The centurion seemed to be enjoying himself, and he let Twister stumble away from him as she tried to clear her vision. Walking forward at a calm pace, the centurion slowly closed the ground between himself and the mare, all the while with his wings flattened out to the sides, ready for an opening. Twister saw him coming just enough to scurry backwards and raise her sword in something roughly resembling a defensive stance. With a laugh, the centurion dashed forward and slammed his sword against hers. With a cry of metal, Twister was able to repel him, but that was what the centurion was anticipating. Using the momentum Twister supplied him, he rebounded off the block and struck out at her forelegs. With a quick hop backwards, Twister was able to avoid having her shins cut out from under her, but the centurion took a forward step and rammed his shoulder into her chest, sending the mare stumbling backwards. With another shout, the centurion pursued his advantage and began to slam his sword down against Twister’s repeatedly. Each block sent a jarring shock through the mare’s jaw, loosening her grip on the sword. Finally, with one powerful strike, the centurion put Twister off-balance enough that he was able to turn and buck her across the face. The sword went sailing through the air with Twister not too far behind as her light body was launched a good fifteen feet away from the kick. As she hit the ground she groaned and spit out a tooth. The pain in her face was incredible; the buck must have given her a broken nose. Her wings lay out to their sides in a pile of sand and cloudstone dust. The centurion laughed to himself and walked closer, taking amusement in Twister’s crumpled body. “Had enough, filly?” he taunted, the sword bobbing in his mouth as he spoke. Lowering his weapon, he came to stand right above the bleeding mare, waiting for her to try and struggle away. Instead of struggle away, however, Twister suddenly rolled onto her back with surprising speed. As she did so, her right wing scooped up a sizeable pile of cloudstone dust and flung it into the centurion’s face. The centurion cursed and stepped back, trying to wipe the dust out of his eyes, but Twister was faster. With a shove, she forced the centurion back, and in the same motion grabbed a dagger out of a sheath along his breastplate. In a fluid spiral, she carried her momentum into a full rotation before slamming the dagger right into the side of the centurion’s neck. Blood spurted across her face, but she held onto the dagger, forcing the centurion’s body to the ground and twisting the blade while she did so. With a last, shocked gasp, the soldier collapsed against the cloudstone ground and twitched once before lying still, forever. It took Twister a few seconds longer before she calmed her nerves enough to let go of the dagger and take several shaky steps back. It was then she could feel the sheer amount of blood coating the side of her face, and it scared her. She would never have thought so much blood could come from one small wound. Even now, the body was still pooling blood around it. The sight of so much crimson made her sick to her stomach, and she turned away to go retch in a corner. When her stomach finally settled, Twister stood up and shuffled away from the corner, pointedly avoiding the centurion’s body. Looking up, she was able to see she was only about two streets away from the base of the hill the palace rested upon. The air was absolutely swarming around the palace, but she would have to take her chances. Speed and aggression would have to help her where caution would not. That, and a little bit of luck, and she would get inside unnoticed. With a deep breath, Twister sheathed her sword and began to fly low over the rooftops of Cloudsdale. There was so much smoke and soot in the air that it was hard to breathe, and there were so many updrafts that it was hard to fly low, but her advance was concealed for the time being. With several flaps of her wings, Twister suddenly burst through a wall of smoke and right into the middle of the chaos over the palace. In the first three seconds, Twister could count no less than seven deaths happen right before her eyes. Madness and chaos dominated the skies around her, and in the frigid air, thousands of tiny contrails quickly formed and dissipated off of the tips of each combatant’s wing feathers. Every renewed gust of wind carried a spatter of crimson moisture, and the temperature seemed to drop by almost twenty degrees as Twister skimmed her way around the worst of the fighting and towards the palace. She briefly considered swinging by the main entrance as habit threatened to take over her wings, but she quickly reconsidered and veered away. At the main entrance to the palace and the numerous side doors, Cirran loyalists had taken up strong defensive positions to keep out Cyclone’s soldiers. It was slaughter, pure and simple as that, and Twister wanted no part of it. Besides, she may have gotten lucky with the centurion, but she would be eviscerated in a second. Quickly spiraling away from the palace, Twister began to circle around the rear of the building. To the common soldier, it was little more than an impenetrable series of stone walls and iron bars, but to her, having had a hoof in the architecture of the building, Twister knew a few concealed access points. Most were little more than maintenance shafts to get to the interior of the roof, but a few dropped down right into major hallways. One such access point wasn’t hard to find, if one knew where to look. Twister knew exactly where to look, and with a few sharp tugs on a Cirran emblem, she pulled open a small tunnel. It was cramped and dark, but at least there weren’t going to be any traitors in it. Sliding into the tunnel, Twister kicked that the back of the emblem as she entered. With the grinding of stone against stone, the emblem slid back into place, drenching the tunnel in complete darkness. The darkness was a little disconcerting at first, but once Twister’s eyes adjusted, she was able to navigate with the minimal light. Her wings scraped against the dusty sides of the narrow tunnel, and she cursed as she tried to shake them out. Pressing onwards, she wound her way through a few corners until she found the tile she was looking for. With a few cramped kicks, a fairly large stone panel was ejected from the ceiling, where it shattered across the floor. After a few second delay, Twister dropped down as well, taking the time to check both ends of the hall before beginning to move out. She instantly recognized where she was; the East Wing of the palace, which was close to Hurricane and Swift’s bedroom. Quickly checking her bearings, she sprinted down the halls in that direction. It wasn’t a long run to get there, but she was still stopped short of her objective. Rounding a corner, Twister slid her hooves to a stop and scrambled back behind the wall. Standing in front of the open door to Swift Spear’s room were two Praetorians, each with a smear of red paint on the side of their helmet. They appeared to be talking to each other, and as she watched, two more Praetorians came out of the bedroom and shook their heads. Together, they began to walk back down the hallway. Twister gasped lightly and took off in the opposite direction, her hooves tapping lightly on the cloudstone before she gained enough momentum to take wing and fly somewhat more silently away. She could hear the voices murmuring quietly behind her, but she dared not look over her shoulder or slow her flight for a second. Instead, she only accelerated, winding her way down the halls and towards the throne room. She wasn’t sure if she should be happy or worried that the doors were solidly closed and refused to budge when she pressed on them. Backing up, Twister took a deep breath and began pounding on the iron. “Swift Spear? Swift Spear, are you in there? It’s me, Twister!” She pounded on the door a few more times for good measure and nervously glanced over her shoulder. “Swift, if you’re in there, you’ve got to let me in, now! There’re some Praetorians coming and—!” She stopped as she heard a massive bar of iron scrape against the door from the inside. “Thank the Gods you’re alive,” she heard Swift Spear’s muffled voice say from the other side of the door. “Just give me a few minutes… nnngh… to unlock…” Twister let out a sigh of relief. Swift was alright, and the throne room was apparently secure. At least it would provide them some place to wait out the siege; Cyclone’s forces, despite the jump they got on the actual Legion, could only win if they took control of the chain of command. As long as Swift was alive, that was impossible. “You don’t know how good it is to hear a friendly voice,” Twister began. “I’ve been fighting and dodging my way through the battlefield for the past few hours just to get here. It’s hell outside; the whole sky is falling apart.” There was another scrape of iron as Swift fought to unlock the door. “You’re safe in here… unngh… for the time being, at least,” she said. “One last lock…” Twister smiled and let her wings hang by her sides in relief. She didn’t like being out in the open at all, but at least that was going to end shortly. She opened her mouth to speak when she felt cold steel press against her neck and a hoof secure her shoulders. “Open this damn door now, or her death is on your hooves!” As the blade cut into her skin let loose small founts of blood, Twister could feel her hope drip out with them. ----- A few minutes earlier… ----- Swift’s nervous hooves took her back and forth across the throne room for the hundredth time. The windows had all been barred and the door was heavily locked; the only way she could judge how the battle was progressing was through the various screams and shouts that forced their way through the stone of the palace. Staring out the window, Swift scowled at the orange glow that decorated her face. She still couldn’t believe this was happening; it just seemed so unreal. To find the rug pulled out from under your hooves, and by your own son, too—she didn’t want to think about it. Focus on something else. She groaned, and strode back to the iron throne. It was hard to lock herself in a room like a coward; her very nature was screaming at her to get into the fight, to find her son, and put an end to this, one way or another. Her honor demanded that she show herself and fight, yet reason stayed her hooves. With Hurricane gone and Typhoon captured, she was the last of the Legion’s imperators to stand against Cyclone. If Cyclone’s troops captured or killed her, the rest of the Legion would turn over to him. After all, there would only be one voice giving the orders in Cloudsdale then, not two. The butt of her spear nervously tapped against the ground as she waited. It had been an hour since she last spoke with Quick Shot, and so far, no reinforcements had materialized. She could hear the fighting rumble and shake the palace around her; they must be getting close. At least the door was doubly, even triply locked. It would take the traitors some time to get to her, time they did not have. Somewhere in the distance, a heavy crunch of stone echoed throughout the palace with a large clatter. The noise sent Swift’s heart racing. It was too close. She thought she had secured all the windows and corridors leading to the throne room to buy herself some more time. They couldn’t be this close already, could they? Swift glanced about the room. There were several cloudstone pillars that could offer her temporary concealment if somepony were to break in, but they wouldn’t help her much. Every Legionnaire was taught the basics of breaching and clearing rooms, and the throne room, despite its grandeur, was still a room. She might be able to stab one cautious soldier in the face as he rounded the pillar, but she would be immediately sliced open from behind. No, there would have to be a better way to do this. It was certainly a gamble that would come down to a few seconds, but it was perhaps the only option Swift had left. Slowly walking to the center of the room, Swift stood directly in front of the iron throne and confidently rested her hooves on the end of her spear. If she could convince any group of traitors that managed to break in that there were more loyalists hiding throughout the room, she might have a short amount of time to escape during their confusion. Even if that failed, at least she would have the chance to run her spear through at least one bastard on the way out before they took her down. Just then, there was a frantic knock on the door. It wasn’t the sound of somepony trying to break in, that much was easy enough to figure out. She briefly wondered if it was Quick Shot before a familiar voice put ice in her veins. “Swift Spear? Swift Spear, are you in there? It’s me, Twister!” As Twister paused to knock on the door from the outside, Swift immediately dropped her spear and flew up to the door. The bars holding it shut were several hundred-pound slabs of iron placed across the seam. Reaching up to one, Swift placed her back underneath and began to heave as Twister spoke again. “Swift, if you’re in there, you’ve got to let me in, now! There’re some Praetorians coming and—!” The groaning of iron against iron, combined with gasps from Swift’s exertion, drowned out the rest of Twister’s words. As Swift finally pushed the bar back against the wall with a thud and a click, she coughed lightly and stretched the knots out of her muscles. “Thank the Gods you’re alive. Just give me a few minutes… nnngh… to unlock…” “You don’t know how good it is to hear a friendly voice,” Twister began as Swift moved to the next heavy iron bar. “I’ve been fighting and dodging my way through the battlefield for the past few hours just to get here. It’s hell outside; the whole sky is falling apart.” . “You’re safe in here… unngh… for the time being, at least,” Swift said as she heaved against the iron. With another thud and a click, it was secured in place against the edge of the doorframe. Shaking out her limbs, Swift moved to the center bar on the door and placed her hooves under it. “One last lock…” As Swift Spear pushed against the lock, she could hear Twister sigh in relief. Even as the iron groaned against itself, however, that sigh turned into a gasp. Swift paused just long enough to hear somepony shout orders at her from the other side of the door. “Open this damn door now, or her death is on your hooves!” Swift Spear froze in place. She could hear several hooves take positions around the door—four of them, by her guess—as well as Twister’s gasps and struggles against whoever it was that had her. “Don’t open it!” Swift could hear Twister choke out from the other side. “There’s only five of them! They can’t get it open by themse—!” “Silence!” a hoarse voice shouted from the other side of the door. He was then followed by the clang of a pony’s head slamming against iron, and the door in front of Swift shook violently. When the voice spoke again, it was with a deadly coldness. “You have five seconds to open the door, Imperator, before I crush her skull against it.” Without hesitation, Swift reached up and slid the iron bar the whole way open, unlocking the door. Just as the ponies tried to get inside, however, she bucked off of the door, slamming it back in their faces, and launched herself towards the spear she dropped in front of the throne. By the time the traitors had forced their way in with Twister as a hostage, Swift had already lowered her weapon in anticipation of a fight. There were five Praetorians, each one with clean and bloodless armor. Under different circumstances, Swift would have assumed they were some of the loyal soldiers, but then she noticed that each one had a splotch of red paint on the right side of their helmet. It was an odd symbol, but easy enough to confuse for blood. In that way it was perfect for letting Cyclone’s soldiers identify each other. The Praetorian holding Twister stepped forward with his wingblade underneath her chin. He was a gray pegasus with a few strands of light gold to make up his tail. He was a high-ranking Praetorian, that much was clear by the emblem and trim decorating his armor. As he advanced, the four other Praetorians by his sides advanced with him, until they were all standing only thirty feet away from Swift Spear. “Let. Her. Go,” Swift growled as she pointed her spear right between his eyes. Thunder Hawk smirked and adjusted his grip around Twister’s neck as she struggled in his grasp. “Put down your weapon, Imperator, and I swear that she will live.” “You swear?” Swift asked, doubt in her voice. “Swear by what? What honor do you have left that has any value to me?” Thunder Hawk stomped on one of Twister’s hind legs, taking out the muscle and bringing the mare painfully to the ground. There he signaled for one of his other comrades to take her as he slowly advanced towards Swift. “I swear on my life and on his. If she dies, Emperor Cyclone will kill us both. The only thing I have to swear by is the Empire, so I hope it’s good enough for you.” Swift scowled at him but didn’t lower her weapon. “You swear by the thing that’s killing thousands of good Legionnaires as we speak?! Are you trying to insult me?!” Thunder Hawk’s demeanor remained unchanged. “I swear by that which is. Tribal Cirra is gone; why Hurricane ever thought it would work is a foal’s guess. We were a proud race once, and now Emperor Cyclone is going to make us so again.” “Hurricane—my husband—saved the entirety of the pegasus race!” Swift shouted back in disbelief. “If he didn’t abandon Stratopolis, if he insisted on fighting the griffons to the cold, bitter end, we all would have been dead! The pegasus race, Cirra, the old Empire itself, all of it would be nothing more than a quickly forgotten memory! Do you think the griffons would have cared enough to remember us once we were exterminated?!” She furiously shook her head. “No! And it’s never going to come back! We lost, don’t you get it?! The Red Cloud War is finished! At least here we can remember our ancestors and our history! Don’t throw away what little we’ve managed to save on some pipe dream of rebuilding the glory of twenty years ago!” “Heretic,” Thunder Hawk began, shaking his head. “Sympathizer. Coward. That’s what you are, that’s what your husband is, that’s what every pegasus who stands against us is. When we bring the Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys under our wing, we will destroy Gryphus, from the land and from the sky.” Then he stepped forward, almost pleading with his eyes to Swift. “Put down your weapon and come with us. Emperor Cyclone, your son, promised that you would be spared. He demanded that I take you alive. Please, join with us, and all this bloodshed will come to a stop.” Swift’s wings were shaking. She might be a good—hell, great soldier—but she couldn’t take on five Praetorians by herself. Especially not when they held Twister hostage. She couldn’t possibly let her sister-in-law, the last true family her husband had, die. She looked again at the struggling mare and loosened her grasp on her spear. Twister stopped struggling long enough to look at Swift Spear. She saw the conflict in her eyes as the tip of her weapon lowered. Then she saw the end was rising in response. Gritting her teeth, she looked towards Swift and nodded. It was all she needed. With a sudden twirl of her wing, Swift snatched up the tip of the spear from the ground and launched it at the Praetorian that was holding Twister down. Faster than the eye could see, the spear travelled across the room and pierced the soldier’s throat, sending his body tumbling off of Twister. As it fell, Twister grabbed a dagger from his armor and jumped up, slamming it into the shoulder of the soldier next to her. As that Praetorian cried out in pain, Twister bucked him backwards and drew her sword before spinning it across her body and splitting open his neck. “Restrain her!” Thunder Hawk shouted as he drew his weapon. “I’ll take care of Swift Spear myself!” While the two remaining Praetorians focused on disarming and incapacitating Twister, Thunder Hawk stormed up the stairs to duel Swift Spear. The mare was ready and waiting for him, her chest lowered towards the ground and her wings flared to either side. As soon as he got near, Swift darted out to the side and towards the weapon still lodged in the dead Praetorian’s throat. Thunder Hawk watched her go and satisfied himself with taking the high ground. At the other side of the room, Twister was backed into a corner, her lack of training evident against two of the Legion’s elite. She was forced to twisting and craning her neck in awkward angles to block their attacks, and each powerful attempt to sunder her weapon took several sharp fragments of skysteel from the sword. As Swift bent down to take the spear, she felt a dagger go whizzing by her leg. Yanking it out of the dead soldier’s body, she turned to see where Thunder Hawk stood with one less dagger against his chest. The two soldiers glared at each other, and then Swift launched herself like a bird of prey towards her opponent, screeching as she flew. A spear made of pure nimbus skysteel is a difficult weapon to handle; nevertheless, Swift spun the weapon over her head and brought the heavy weapon down on Thunder Hawk. The Praetorian quickly angled his sword to catch it, producing a very heavy shock that rattled the teeth within his skull and forced him to stumble backwards. As he did, he struck out at Swift’s jaw to try and dislodge her weapon, but she nimbly lowered her head under the attack and rammed the blunt end of her weapon into Thunder Hawk’s chest. The nimbus spear, which easily weighed twenty pounds, nearly leveled the Praetorian, but he was able to roll with the blow and quickly slide out of Swift’s attack range. That didn’t stop Swift Spear from pressing her advantage. Quickly rebalancing the spear between her jaws, the mare charged forward and began to swing her spear at alternating strikes against Thunder Hawk. The Praetorian blocked each strike in turn, either with his sword or his wingblades, or sometimes even both for particularly powerful strikes. Each blow from Swift’s spear pressed the Praetorian farther back until his hooves clicked against a pillar behind him. Swift’s next strike was particularly vicious. Quickly blocking a desperate sword strike on her wing, she twirled in place and let the spear slide through her teeth until she caught the knob on the end in her jaws. When four feet of spear suddenly collided with Thunder Hawk’s cheek, it launched the Praetorian off to the side with a crackle of thunder and lightning. As Thunder Hawk’s back smashed into the far wall, he let out a grunt of pain and realized he could smell burning fur along the side of his face. Smothering out the embers that clung to his cheek, he looked up just in time to see Swift Spear charging towards him. Rolling to the side, Thunder Hawk heard Swift’s weapon smash into the cloudstone behind him. Several shards of stone rained down upon him, and as he twisted back onto his hooves, he saw Swift struggle to wrench the spear out of the wall. Adjusting his grip on the sword, Thunder Hawk galloped forward and slashed at Swift Spear. Rather than jump to the side to dodge the attack, Swift inexplicably propelled herself towards Thunder Hawk. Twisting in midair, the mare slammed her back into Thunder Hawk’s chest and caught his sword on her left wingblade. The sudden impact winded the Praetorian and pushed him back, causing him to lose his sword in the process. As Thunder Hawk was forced to retrieve his weapon, Swift was able to yank her spear free from the wall and bring it to bear on the Praetorian. Sparks flew as the two weapons met yet again. Rebounding from the attack, Thunder Hawk swiftly transitioned to strike at Swift’s opposite side, but the mare slid the spear to halfway between her jaws so that she could block from both sides. With a simple flick of her head, she was able to counter attacks coming from either the left or the right without difficulty. As Thunder Hawk searched for some opening to try and disarm Swift, the mare was able to slide the weapon back out to full length and wallop him across the head. Thunder Hawk stumbled away, but with a brief shake he was able to clear his vision and charge back into the fray. With lightning precision, the stallion attacked left and right, up and down, twirling and darting around the range of Swift’s weapon to try and get an angle on her. However, the mare was incredibly agile with her heavy weapon, and each time he darted to her sides she was able to keep pace and force him back. As a last resort, Thunder Hawk spread his wings and began to hover just outside of Swift’s range. As expected, Swift’s training took over, and she squatted against the ground, resting the end of the spear against a tile to brace it against an aerial dive. Thunder Hawk was forced to fly around the mare in circles, trying to find some opportunity, but finding none. As Swift refused to budge from her defensive stance, the Praetorian threw away his caution and dove recklessly towards her. The pain was intense, but Thunder Hawk was used to worse. He had played his cards right, spinning out of the way just in time to avoid having his armor punctured. Instead, he managed to get the tip of the spear lodged harmlessly in his shoulder, forcing the weapon out of Swift’s grasp. Unfortunately, the pain destabilized his flight, and he slammed roughly into the ground, losing his sword in the process. Swift Spear cursed at the loss of her weapon, but didn’t spend much thought on it. Instead, she simply ripped out a dagger from a series of sheaths against her right side and charged towards the downed Praetorian. There was a rage in her eyes, and she abandoned her caution in favor of slicing open Thunder Hawk’s neck. His sword too far away to reach and his daggers down by his side, Thunder Hawk grabbed onto the only weapon within his immediate reach. Clamping down on the spear lodged in his shoulder, he gave it a sharp tug as he twisted. With a ripping and tearing of flesh and blood, the Praetorian forced it out of his shoulder and tried to turn it to stave off Swift Spear. Even as he moved, however, the unnaturally heavy weight of the spear fought against him. He had grabbed it near the tip, and the extra weight at the end pulled his head to the side and pointed the tip upwards. As he fought for control over the weapon, Swift had already leaped into the air, dagger ready for his neck. Sudden desperation in his eyes, Thunder Hawk turned the spear. Sudden realization in her eyes, Swift pulled back on her dive. The sound of a weapon piercing through armor and flesh was painfully audible as blood spattered the ground. ----- “Here, in here,” Pathfinder called over his shoulder as he alighted at the east wing of the palace. He, Hurricane, Pan Sea, and the two other soldiers from Pathfinder’s group were gathered around a small grate at the base of the palace wall. All around them, the sounds of war raged on, but their group had found a slight overhang to stay out of sight as they worked on getting into the palace. “They’re already at the palace,” Hurricane muttered to himself, shaking his head. “How did things get so badly out of hoof while I was gone?” “Your son spent a lot of time getting this ready,” Pathfinder said. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was working on this whole fiasco for months. It was just convenient for him that you decided to remove yourself from the equation for a while.” With a heave, the centurion forced the grate open and set the skysteel aside. “You did find what you were looking for, right, sir?” “I wouldn’t have come back unless I did,” Hurricane flatly answered. Pathfinder shrugged his shoulders as he pulled a torch out of his saddlebag and lit it with a spark from his wing. “Lucky that you weren’t a day later. I doubt the Legion will be able to hold out without your support for much longer. If they get to Imperator Swift Spear…” “It’s not going to happen,” Hurricane insisted, pushing past Pathfinder and staring into the open grate. “Swift’s as good a soldier as I am. She can hold her own against even the best of the Praetorian Guard.” As he began to descend into the dark pit, Pan Sea peered over the edge at Hurricane as his black coat melted into the shadows. “Uh, sir? What about a torch?” “Don’t need one,” Hurricane answered. With a snap of his wings, he brought fire to their crests, illuminating the dark tunnel around him. Having secured his own means of light, the Commander advanced deeper into the bowels of the palace. With a few shrugs, Pathfinder’s companions followed after him, dragging Pan Sea along. Pathfinder looked at his own torch and sighed. “Aw, to hell with it,” he muttered as he chucked the torch over his shoulder and descended as well. The tunnels underneath the palace were dark and grimy, or as grimy as being carved out of a cloud could possibly be. The walls were little more than reinforced cumulus and stratus, and the air smelt of moisture. Within a few minutes, each pegasus was drenched in sweat as the humidity ate away at their coats under their armor, and still there was no sign of an exit. Pan Sea paused to wipe away the sweat from his brow and leaned against the cloud wall. Almost immediately, he felt something sticky grip at his feathers, and he turned away to shake them off. They were surprisingly red and smelt of copper. “What…” Pan Sea whispered as he fought the urge to gag. “Is that blood?” Hurricane stopped and looked at the walls around him. “You weren’t at Stratopolis. The Plaza of the Emperor was drenched in so much blood that the clouds began to absorb it. We must be right under the front entrance of the palace. This is just the runoff from the fighting above us.” Gesturing with his head, Hurricane continued the walk through the tunnels. Using his wings for light, he waved them back and forth to illuminate the walls of the tunnel around him. Eventually, they came to a point where the tunnel split into two, one going straight ahead and one going to the right. “What even is the point of these tunnels?” Pan Sea asked. He took a sniff of the air and immediately recoiled in disgust. “And what is that smell?” “These are the sewers of the palace,” Pathfinder answered as he walked up next to the small Legionnaire. “If you can keep the guards at their positions longer by giving them a spot to take a shit, the idea is that security’s less prone to being breached.” “Right.” Hurricane answered as he began to walk off into the side tunnel. Pathfinder and Pan Sea watched him for a second before setting their hooves in motion behind him. Pathfinder’s two soldiers brought up the rear, nervously glancing at the shadowy walls around them as they walked. The palace suddenly shook as if a great weight had been slammed against it, causing the group to jump in alarm. Hurricane suddenly cursed and accelerated his pace. “What is it?” Pan Sea squawked behind him. “What was that?” “They must have gotten their hooves on the siege weapons,” Hurricane said as he slid around a corner. “They’ve got them trained on the palace from afar.” Pathfinder stopped and tilted his head to the side, befuddled. “Siege weapons? What in the name of Celeste’s striped shit are siege weapons doing in a floating city?!” “If the barbarians or whoever were foolish enough to march an army near Cloudsdale, we’d rain cumulus cloudstone on them from afar,” Hurricane answered. “Cloudstone? Doesn’t it just break for the other races like powder?” Pan Sea asked. Hurricane glanced at him. “Not ultra-compressed cloudstone. Plus, cumulus cloudstone has a tendency to explode when suddenly broken apart.” Another rumble shook the cloud near the palace, and Hurricane nodded. “Like that.” Then he immediately turned around and continued sprinting through the halls, his fiery wings leaving streaks of sparks behind them. “I really wish he would stop doing that,” Pathfinder muttered to Pan Sea as he slowly built up the momentum to run after the Commander. “I ain’t drunk enough for this.” Pan Sea gawked at the Centurion. “Not… drunk enough?” “Look kid,” Pathfinder sighed, “when you see the kinds of things I’ve seen, you need that drink to focus.” Pan Sea blushed. “I’m older than you, you know.” “Were you ever wounded in battle?” “Hengstead, yes. I spent the war recovering in Altus.” “Altus?” Pathfinder asked, stopping to face Pan Sea. “I was there too after I was wounded. It’s my hometown, you know.” “Really? Same here! How come you weren’t drafted at the start of the war like Slipstream and Feather Knot and I?” This time it was Pathfinder’s turn to grumble and turn away, embarrassed. “Wasn’t old enough. But I did sign up a month later. The Legion wasn’t quite so picky then.” “How old were you?” Pan Sea asked. “…fourteen,” Pathfinder mumbled “WHAT?!” “Only by about a week.” Pan Sea shook his head, dumbfounded. “And why did you try to get involved in a war when you were only fourteen?!” “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” “Pick up the pace, will you?!” Hurricane shouted from the end of the tunnel. He had shut down the fire along his wings and was standing at the bottom of a ray of light. A small panel had been displaced in the tunnel above him, and Pathfinder’s two companions were currently flying their way up. Pathfinder coughed and trotted over. “Right, sorry, Commander.” With a quick flap of his wings, the Centurion shot up and through the hole, leaving Pan Sea below with Hurricane. “Sorry, Commander,” Pan Sea began to mumble. Hurricane just pressed a hoof against his brow. “Just go, Pansy.” As soon as Pan Sea ascended, Hurricane flew up through the gap and into the palace. A quick look around told him he was in the hallway leading to the courtyard behind the palace. Just in front of him, barely more than fifteen feet away, was a smashed stone ceiling tile leading to a passage above. “Looks like somepony took the top way in,” Pathfinder commented. “Even I didn’t know about those.” “My sister and I put them in,” Hurricane began, “but I didn’t think anypony else knew about them.” “Maybe your sister’s here?” Hurricane felt his blood freeze for not the first time that day. “Impossible. She lives at the edge of the city, and she knows I’m gone. She wouldn’t have flown here for no reason.” “There’s been fighting here,” one of Pathfinder’s companions said as he walked up to a body. Around him were the bodies of numerous soldiers impaled on each other’s weapons. Reaching into the pouch under the body’s left wing, the soldier pulled out his documents. “Legionnaire Quick Shot, private. He was supposed to be off duty at the barracks today.” Hurricane pushed past him and began to move towards the throne room. “If he got in, more will come. We’ve got to get to Swift Spear. Quickly, to the throne room.” Creeping around the edge of the cloudstone masonry, the five soldiers went through the halls as quietly as possible. They could still hear the sounds of the fighting raging outside, but it seemed like it was starting to die down. Not from a lack of resolve, but most likely due to the fact that one of the two sides was probably almost worn down to nothing. Sprinting past more blood and bodies, Hurricane suddenly came to a stop, causing Pan Sea and Pathfinder to almost collide with him. Both stumbled off to the side and barely managed to suppress glowering at the commander of their entire nation. “Gods, no!” Hurricane shouted as he suddenly began to sprint again. In front of him, the doors to the throne room were opened wide, and several bodies littered the hall near it. He didn’t think anything of them until he slid through the doorway, slamming his shoulder against the iron door in the process. “Quick!” a masculine voice shouted from the center of the room. “Get me some bandages! We’re losing her!” Time slowed to a crawl as Hurricane looked around the room. Off to the corner, Twister was struggling against a pair of Praetorians, her face contorted into a scream of grief and rage. The Praetorians themselves looked nervous and were sweating profusely as they watched the figure in the center of the room. Two bodies laid on the floor near them, blood still pouring from their wounds. Hurricane began to gallop into the room at a painfully slow pace. His sword slowly slid out of its scabbard even as the world refused to remove around him. There, in the center of the room, was a gray Praetorian with blood pouring from his shoulder. His face was badly bruised and bleeding, and his hooves were covered in blood. The source of that blood was the heaving chest of the mare he had placed them on. With a concentrated grit of his teeth, the Praetorian flung aside a sickly crimson rag and pulled another out of his saddlebag before swiftly placing it against the gaping wound in the mare’s exposed gut. “SWIFT!!!” With an agonized howl, Hurricane tossed his sword aside and flew up to the throne room. There was so much blood, staining the cloudstone crimson and matting the soft blond of her coat into sticky spikes of red. Not even caring whether the Praetorian crouched over her was the enemy or not, Hurricane roughly pushed his way through and kneeled over Swift Spear. Swift was panting softly, and each breath sent blood trickling out of her nose and the corner of her mouth. Underneath Thunder Hawk’s hooves, the fresh rag quickly became red. Absolutely frantic, Hurricane tossed his helmet aside and desperately looked up and down Swift’s body, trying to find some way to miraculously heal her. “Commander, I—” the Praetorian stumbled over his words before shaking his head and trying again. “I’m sorry. My orders were to take her alive, not this… no, Cyclone never wanted this. He never wanted his mother to get hurt—” “Shut up!” Hurricane seethed as he shoved Thunder Hawk away. Picking up the rag to look at the wound, Hurricane almost broke down on the spot. The puncture wound from the sword stretched through her ribcage and one of her lungs, through her stomach, and into her liver. Every breath bubbled up blood, and droplets spattered across Hurricane’s muzzle. Her eyes moved beneath their eyelids, and a small amount of sweat had broken across her brow. “Swift…” Hurricane pleaded as he knelt down closer to her. He placed a hoof on her forehead and shuddered. It was already frighteningly hot. “Please… Swift, please open your eyes…” Tears had begun to stream down Hurricane’s face, falling softly onto Swift Spear’s neck and cheeks with a simple patter. There they turned red, turning into small rivulets of crimson down her side. Pressing his ear against Swift’s chest, Hurricane sniffled quietly to himself. Behind him, Thunder Hawk had retreated to give the Commander some space. Now, he and his two Praetorians were standing off to the edge of the room. They had let Twister go, and she moved quietly forward towards Hurricane. The rest of Hurricane’s companions—Pan Sea, Pathfinder, and the other two soldiers—simply stood in the doorway and watched. Hurricane didn’t even feel Twister rest a hoof on his shoulder. Even if she had spoken, he probably wouldn’t have heard her either. He was consumed entirely in his own grief as he lay there, listening to Swift’s rapidly fading heartbeat. Blood stained the side of his face, but he didn’t care. It was her blood, and it was some of the last she could ever give, for the Legion, for Cirra, for him. “Please, Swift…” Hurricane murmured to her. He squinted as his eyes burned with tears, and, gritting his teeth, moved closer to press his muzzle against hers. “I… I don’t… I can’t…” Then he started crying in earnest. Tears poured down the powerful Commander’s cheeks like those of a lost foal’s. His body shook and heaved with wracking tremors, and strength bled from his powerful limbs like life bled out of Swift Spear. Twister recoiled slightly as the air around him dropped by nearly thirty degrees. Already the sweat that had coated his armor and coat minutes earlier had frozen into tiny crystals of frost. “Come back to me, Swift,” Hurricane whispered into her ear. “Just one more time…” Laying down next to his wife, Hurricane reached over and kissed her forehead. She didn’t move at the contact, and instead just lay there, slowly taking her last breaths. Already her limbs had fallen into a paralyzed serenity, and her beautiful and soft wings had but a few last twitches to give as they shook against the ground. Then, Swift Spear gasped and opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and very glassy, but they were open, and they found Hurricane at her side. With a slight grunt, she managed to move her head a few degrees to the side. She also tested her limbs, but they wouldn’t respond to her. The most she could get was a few inches of movement from her right wing—the one brushing against Hurricane’s side. Hurricane jolted at the contact and sat up. The fur under his eyes and on his cheeks was damp and matted, and his mouth hung open. Terror and desperation filled his face, but it washed away at Swift’s warm smile. With a shuddering breath, he leaned over and kissed Swift on the lips. “I… I didn’t think… I would see you… again…” Swift whispered around painful and wet breaths. Every word she spoke caused her lung to gurgle, and the blood trickling out of her mouth started again. “Swift,” Hurricane cried, “Swift, I’m so sorry. I never should have left you, I never should have gone and left you all alone, I—” “Shhh,” Swift weakly interrupted. “Did you… did you find… what you were looking for?” Hurricane sat up slightly and nodded. “Yes, Swift, yes I did. I found it. I found new lands… new lands where we could have lived a happy life together…” He meekly smiled and leaned his head back against hers. “The air was so warm… you would have loved it…” Swift Spear attempted to giggle, but it only came out as a single, weak breath. Instead, she gently twitched her ear against Hurricane’s muzzle. “I know I… would have…. Flying with you…” Hurricane shuddered and pressed closer against Swift Spear’s side. “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me all alone. You’re my wife, the love of my life, the one mare who’s been through everything I have… the one pony to whom I can actually talk about what I saw… what we saw… to remember Silver Sword, to remember Streak Wing, to remember our parents, and our friends, and the way things used to be…” He choked on tears and shook again. “Our children, our history…. Don’t leave that all to me, Swift… I don’t want to be alone…” Swift smiled and kissed Hurricane’s cheek. “Hurricane… you won’t be alone… you’ve got Twister… her family, your nieces… our children are both still alive…” She shook her head, an action that took about three seconds but only covered a few inches of weak movement. “You know… you’ll never be alone…. Even when I’m gone… I’ll be there. Just look to the skies… look to your side… feel my presence next to you late at night… you’ll know I’m still there… you’ll know I still love you.” “Cyclone… I’ll make him pay for this…” Hurricane panted. With every word, his voice grew more rapid and forceful, until he was shouting more with rage than actual thought. “For killing his mother, for tearing Cirra apart for betraying his sister, for everything! I’ll—!” “Hurricane!” Swift cut in with surprising forcefulness. “Hurricane, please… Cyclone’s our only son… he’s my baby boy… I still love him… I’ll love him when I draw my last breath, I’ll love him even as I watch you from above. Don’t kill him… spare him his life… our family loses one life today… don’t let it lose another, please... spare our baby boy…” Coughing lightly, she looked into his eyes. “Promise me this… please…” The black pegasus, looking shockingly old and tired, nodded and pressed his forehead against Swift’s. “I promise you, Swift. I’ll spare him. I can never forget this—never—but I’ll try… I’ll try my hardest to forgive him… because like you said…” Hurricane stopped and bit his lip, trying to force back the tears and sobs that threatened to steal his speech any moment. “Because like you said, he’s my only son. And he’ll be my only son, I can promise you that. I love you, and I’ll always love you. Forever and ever, until the stars shine no more, until the sun shrivels and dies, never to rise again, I’ll remember you, and I’ll love you. Every day, every minute will be a horrible reminder that you’re not there. But I’ll carry on for you. Because I love you. I won’t give up because of you, Swift. I won’t give up, because I know you want me to go on.” Taking a deep breath, Hurricane kissed Swift’s forehead again. “And I won’t disappoint you. Even if I live for another forty years, I’ll make you proud. And then, one day, we’ll be together again. In the Great Skies, we’ll be whole. And I’ll never leave your side, ever again.” Swift smiled and gently nuzzled Hurricane. “Mmm… I’d like that… very much.” With a sudden, soft gasp, Swift’s neck twitched and her head tilted back. Her eyes stared at the ceiling, and her sadness slowly began to leave her. “Hurricane, I… I see Silver…” That was the last she spoke. Slowly releasing her breath, Swift’s head tilted back, back, back until it touched the cloudstone underneath. Then, her chest slowly crumpled, and the blood bubbled a few seconds longer before it stopped. Nopony moved for the longest time. Finally, Twister reached her hooves under Hurricane’s armpits and hugged him. The tired and broken stallion turned towards his sister and leaned against her chest, weeping. Twister only bent lower and ran a hoof through Hurricane’s mane, gently stroking it. It had been so long since she had been the strong one for her brother, perhaps as long ago as before the Day of Empire celebration twenty years prior. He had always been so strong for her; even when Thunder Gale and Raincloud were murdered, and she had stood there in shock as they died in front of her; even when Zephyrus was burnt to the ground, and everything she had ever known was cruelly turned into ash and fire against the bloody horizon; even when he sent her to Altus so he could die alone in Stratopolis, facing the Gryphon onslaught in a battle he knew he could not win, he was the strong one. Now, she realized just how much it had hurt him too.  How much it had hurt him, and how little he had ever said about it. Looking at his mane, she could see how the blue had already faded into silver as two decades of stress built up and crushed the stallion underneath. She had lost friends during the Red Cloud War, sure, but she hadn’t been to the front. Her brother saw almost everypony he loved killed before his very eyes. He thought he’d gotten away from it all after the Exodus, and then his wife died the very day he finally came back to Cloudsdale. Twister could only imagine the things he had wanted to say to her, the things he had wanted to show her, and instead, he had only been able to cradle her body as she died. She knew she would never want to experience anything like that. She wouldn’t be able to bear seeing Echo Wing die before her. She could only imagine how Hurricane felt now. She didn’t bother whispering lies how everything was going to be okay. It wasn’t her ground to judge what Hurricane was feeling and what he wanted to hear or not. Instead, she only held him until he could cry no more. Only when her coat was thoroughly soaked with tears and the stallion could only whimper softly did Hurricane finally begin to speak. “T-thanks, Twister,” Hurricane whispered to her. Squeezing his little sister a little closer, the two shared a heartfelt hug, the first they had truly had in years. With a slight nod, Hurricane separated from the embrace and stood up. His first thoughts were to address the three Praetorians standing in the corner. Each of them had laid their sword, helmet, and wingblades in a pile in front of themselves. They stood, stiffly, waiting for Hurricane to speak to them. “Why did you come here?” Hurricane quietly asked of them. Despite the lack of volume, they were the most terrifying words any had ever heard the Commander speak. Thunder Hawk nodded slightly and stepped forward. “We came on Imperator Cyclone’s orders, sir. He wanted us to take Swift Spear alive. She resisted, and despite my best attempts to disarm her, she nearly killed me. I tried to move her spear to block her attack, but the weight was too unnatural in my hooves, sir. I—I lost control of the weapon. I stabbed her in the stomach as she leapt at me. It was not my intention to do so, and I tried to save her, but there was little I could do.” Bowing his head, an action the other two Guards copied, Thunder Hawk knelt down before Hurricane. “I ask not for your forgiveness, but that I am executed justly and honorably. I have done a disservice to Cirra; allow me to pay for it with my life.” Pathfinder growled from the corner and pulled out a dagger. “Justly and honorably my ass, you backstabbing treacherous pieces of shi—!” “Enough!” Hurricane shouted at him even as he raised a wing to stop Pathfinder. “These soldiers deserve as much. They did not run when confronted. They did not raise a feather against me when challenged. They took their orders as per their oath, even from a treacherous Imperator. The least they deserve is death with honor.” Looking back at the Guards, Hurricane gestured with his wing. “I want the fighting outside of the gates stopped, now. Do this for me, and I promise your deaths will be swift and painless.” Thunder Hawk and the two surviving Praetorian Guards stood up  and saluted in unison. “As you command, sir.” Then they left, taking their swords and wingblades, but not their helmets, with them. Pathfinder watched them go and angrily slammed his sword back into its scabbard as they went. “They’re going to fly, first chance they get, I can guarantee you that much.” “No, they won’t,” Hurricane said. “If you’ve been through Praetorian training, you understand that your honor is the only thing you truly own. They would not waste that on a life without meaning.” “Hurricane,” Pan Sea began, walking towards Hurricane’s side, “What do we do now? What about Cyclone? Do we… kill him?” Pathfinder took a step back as if he had been physically struck. Turning to Pan Sea, his voice quickly began to crack. “My wife and I buried our baby girl not even six months ago. It… it was the hardest day of my l-life…” When he looked at Hurricane, his eyes were wet and his lips trembled. “Sir, you… you don’t want to feel that pain, sir.” Without saying anything more, Pathfinder walked out of the throne room, leaving Hurricane and Pan Sea behind with Twister and the other two soldiers. After a few seconds of pause, they saluted Hurricane and walked out as well. Fighting with his thoughts for a few more seconds, Hurricane finally bit down on his lip and nodded. “Twister, I trust you to take care of Swift’s b-body,” he stammered as he walked towards the door. Twister looked after him. “Hurricane? Cane, where are you going?” Hurricane stopped just long enough to look over his shoulder at Twister. Before her very eyes, she saw her brother suppress his anger and anguish and fear behind the mask he commonly wore on the throne. In a second, the Hurricane who had cried against her coat was gone, replaced with the unbreakable leader of the Cirran Empire. “Pan Sea, up,” Hurricane ordered, actually pronouncing Pan Sea’s name correctly. “We’re going to River Rock. It’s time to end this once and for all.” Without anything more, Hurricane walked outside the room and towards the front doors. As he expected, he found Pathfinder and his companions standing next to the opened doors. Outside, Hurricane could see hundreds of dead bodies, but also hundreds of living pegasi split into two groups, loyalists and traitors, with the three Praetorian Guards he released standing between them. As he began to walk down the hall, the loyalists began to cheer loudly and parted for him to pass through. Even several soldiers on the other side cheered his approach, while others looked mostly unsure of themselves. Stepping into the main clearing of soldiers, Hurricane looked them all over. They were worn and tired from battle, most were covered in blood, and several had broken pieces of armor, but each and every one watched the Commander closely. Even more comforting was the fact that none moved. Satisfied, Hurricane nodded and looked to the sky. There was still a huge fight going on, and casualties continued to rise by the minute. It was up to him, and him alone to stop it. Turning around, Hurricane closed his eyes as he raised his hind legs off of the ground. The crowd gathered around him watched, unsure of what he would do. Even Pathfinder and Pan Sea, who stood off to the side in the doorway, watched, transfixed, as he bucked his hooves out. A massive bolt of lightning split the skies in two. The resulting blast of thunder shook the very foundations of Cloudsdale itself, and several of the more damaged buildings threatened to collapse. As the blinding streak of light seared across the sky and the smoke swirled from the thunder, Hurricane looked behind him to see that the fighting had all but stopped. “Pegasi of Cloudsdale!” Commander Hurricane shouted into the sky with an unnaturally thunderous voice. “Followers of Imperator Cyclone and true soldiers of the Legion! The siege of Cloudsdale is now over! I, Commander Hurricane, have returned from my journey to the far west. The palace is firmly under my control, and the Legion remains unbroken. To continue fighting is futile—you will only find death if you continue to pursue Imperator Cyclone’s twisted dreams of power.” Looking around, Hurricane could see many of the traitors across from him trembling in their armor. On the spur of the moment, an idea came to him, and he smiled. “Many of you are worried what will happen to you now that your treachery has failed you. I will tell you this; if you flee into the wild, we will not pursue you. If you turn yourselves in, your trials will be just. But if you fly with me to River Rock, which Imperator Cyclone and the Praetorian Guard currently have besieged, then you will be forgiven of your treachery. You will be allowed to stay within the Legion as pegasi of Cirra, and you will be allowed to come with us to the new lands I discovered in the west. This, I give you my word. Fly with me, and let us put this horrible chapter in Cirran history to a close!” Hurricane looked around, panting, as he finished. At first, there was nothing. Not a response from any of the soldiers around him. He was almost worried that nopony would side with him when he felt a familiar presence by his side. “I’ll fly with you,” Pan Sea meekly offered. But, standing tall, he faced off against the innumerous soldiers around him. “I have flown by the Commander’s side since he left Cloudsdale on his journey weeks ago. I would be a true coward if I did not fly with him now, even if I’m the only soldier with enough balls to do so!” A few chuckles broke out around Pan Sea, and soon, soldiers began to step forward. They were almost interrupted by Pathfinder walking forward, waving a tankard of ale he managed to find somewhere in front of him. “You deadwings better fly with the Commander and I, or else I’ll flay every last one of you alive after I get piss-ass drunk!” A single laugh was heard from the side, and a mare advanced towards Pathfinder. She was a Legate by the armor she wore, and as she draped an off-white wing over the Centurion, he visibly paled. “You’re going to do what, dear?” Pathfinder suddenly found himself at a loss for words. “I, uh, well, I mean, uh… nothing, honey…” “Gods, I hope you didn’t learn how to threaten somepony from the bar,” the mare teased him. Seeing Hurricane, she swiftly saluted. “Sir, it's good to see you're alright. As for this sorry excuse for a centurion..." She shrugged, tilting a wing towards Pathfinder. "I dragged this poor bastard out of the fire at Nimbus during the counterattack and things kind of took off from there. It’s an honor to fly by your side again, sir.” Hurricane quietly chuckled as Pathfinder tried to avoid his wife’s gaze but cut himself off as his thoughts drifted back towards Swift Spear. Instead he nodded towards the mare. “Legate Iron Rain. It’s good to have you with us—both of you. Your husband helped me get through the fighting on the way to the palace.” “Oh, did he now?” Iron Rain lilted. With a hoof she rubbed at Pathfinder’s mane. “And I was always so much more of a fan of the Commander anyway.” “Please, not now…” Pathfinder groaned. “Love you too,” Iron Rain teased. Pushing away from Pathfinder, she stared out into the crowd. “CIRRANS, ON ME!!” Several hundred pairs of hooves stomped together in response and formed up around her. With an impressive display of command, Iron Rain began to gather the rest of the soldiers around her into a makeshift formation as more and more volunteered and stepped forward. As Hurricane’s soldiers built up, he began to fly into the air, with Pan Sea behind him. Circling the newly organized Legion, the two pegasi watched as they began to take flight into the air, regiment by regiment. “Impressive,” Pan Sea murmured. “I… wow… I never thought we would actually do it.” “It’s not over yet, Pansy,” Hurricane answered, slipping back into his old habit. “We’ve still got a battle to win. Then it’ll be over.” Then, with the wind at their tails, Hurricane and Pan Sea soared across the frozen ground beneath them to the south. And, in their wake, the impressive unity of the Cirran Legion followed, tearing holes through sky in pursuit of Cyclone and the traitors he still commanded in River Rock. ----- The sky was unnaturally dark that day, presumably due to the wind moving the clouds in from the north and over the city. River Rock, in all its frigid glory, continued to cling onto existence even as the snows tried to pry it off of the valley walls it owned. There was hardly a guard to be seen on the walls, it was so cold. Instead, the ancient ramparts of the city were barren, covered only by snow that hadn’t been disturbed for several days. If there had been guards there, they might have noticed the low-flying black cloud swiftly descending from the north. Then again, if there were guards stationed along the walls, there would have been little they could do against the incoming onslaught. For, diving out of the cloud cover that had sheltered their flight on the way south, was Emperor Cyclone of the New Cirran Empire, the entirety of the Praetorian Guard, and fifteen thousand Legionnaires. Each soldier was armed to the teeth, and each one had a streak of red paint along the side of their helmet. Their wingblades flashed in the dim gray light over the Diamond Kingdom with each powerful stroke that brought them closer to its capital. When they were hardly more than a half mile away from the city, Cyclone stopped his advance and briefly hovered in place. Five of the highest-ranking soldiers in the Praetorian Guard flew up next to him and awaited their orders. Cyclone smiled as he took it all in. River Rock, a city with so much history, standing for thousands of years against all manner of barbarian onslaught. A city that had begun to die of corruption and decay by the time the pegasi had found it. Cyclone wanted to remember this scene in the battle to come. After all, he would need something to compare the smoldering and broken ruins of the city to in a few hours. Baring his teeth, Cyclone glanced at the Guards around him. Then, softly issuing a single command, he grinned. “Burn it all.” With a few shouts from the Guards around him, twenty thousand bloodthirsty pegasi descended onto the city. In a few seconds, the real shouting began, and the first fires exploded off of the rooftops of the outlying houses as they advanced. Drawing his sword, Cyclone laughed and dove into the fray. > Chapter 17: The Storm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 17: The Storm Typhoon moaned as she hung from the wall. Every inch of her body ached. Ever since she had been branded, Jewel’s cronies had beaten her relentlessly, day in and day out. Her limbs were sore and numb, and her wings were crying out desperately to be used. But she couldn’t use them, because they were firmly chained to the wall behind her. She looked up, and winced at what she saw. Positioned directly in front of her, at Jewel’s request, was a large mirror. Just seeing herself was absolutely crushing to Typhoon’s spirits. She felt like she didn’t even recognize the hollow mare that was chained in the mirror across from her. Sometimes she didn’t realize how much she hurt until she saw the bruises and gashes covering her face and body. An old blood stain decorated her muzzle, and more dried blood covered her coat. Her wings had lost several feathers from disuse, and the once proud blond things now only sat on the ground, absolutely worthless. Her once vibrant and multicolored mane was now a tangled mess of displaced and dirty strands, and her tail was no better. The base of it was also stained, but not with blood. That’s what really crushed her. It wasn’t so much the blood or the bruises or wounds. Blood and cuts she could deal with, not this. She did not earn these scars in battle, and some of them bit deep into her mind. They were signs of torture and imprisonment, not a Legionnaire’s glory and honor on the field. Looking at the face of the hollow mare across from her, Typhoon cringed at what she saw. She could still feel the heat of her own weapon pressed against her body, searing the flesh underneath. Some of the scars weren’t too noticeable; a stripe here or there across her chest, which would only be covered again with armor. But there was one that stood out above all the others. It was the streak of seared flesh across the right side of her face, the one she could not hide, the one that branded her as a broken mare, that stung her the most. Her stomach rumbled yet again, and the usual pangs of hunger returned to her. They had stopped feeding her three times a day a few days ago, instead cutting her down to one loaf of sawdust bread and half a cup of water a day. That, combined with the continual stench of her own waste just below her, made her increasingly nauseas and faint as time wore on. It was a pitiful existence; sometimes in the dead of night when they’d heat horseshoes in the fire and place them on her hooves she cried out for the end. She cried for the sweet release of death and its cool kiss that would spare her from the fires of pain and agony. But of course they wouldn’t give that to her. That would have been too simple. Seeing her squirm, seeing her bleed, seeing her ravaged, all made her captors laugh. That, and apparently Cyclone’s threat of death if they killed her stayed their hooves from pushing her too close to the end. If only they’d slip up just once, twist the dagger too far… Typhoon remembered that first night Jewel came to talk to her. She couldn’t tell how long ago it was; they always kept torches burning near her, to blind her as she tried to sleep and to make it uncomfortably hot, and as such she had no way to measure time. But she remembered how she was determined not to be broken then, how she was going to make Jewel pay for everything he had done to her, thrice over. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Every day, her resolve was chipped and fractured until it was little more than a pile of crushed words she had spoken some time ago. Typhoon the Broken. That’s who she was. Just then, the castle rumbled. It was difficult for Typhoon to tell through the pain and numbness in her body, but the stone wall she was chained against definitely trembled. There was also a dull boom that somehow managed to separate itself into something distinct against the roaring in her ears. They twitched slightly against the ragged strands of her mane, and she struggled to pick out anything else. When the door suddenly blasted open she screamed from the sudden bang that filled the room, millions of times louder than the only sounds of her breathing moments before. As Typhoon shook and trembled against the wall, a single and familiar unicorn walked into the room. The bells on his hat tinkled as he massaged his horn with a hoof, and he took a deep breath when he cleared the smoke. Without any further of a delay, Star Swirl the Bearded threw several large sacks onto the ground and immediately hobbled over to Typhoon’s side. “Nnngh… Star S-Swirl? What’s g-going on?” she managed to mumble. She slightly tilted her head downwards to see the archmage fiddling with the manacles around her limbs. With an aura of green Arcana, he ruptured the hinges of one cuff, freeing Typhoon’s forelimb. The limb almost immediately dropped away, accidentally striking Star Swirl’s horn. “Watch it, child,” Star Swirl grumbled as he moved to Typhoon’s other side. “We don’t have much time.” “S-sorry,” Typhoon slurred. Stretching her forelimb, the mare sighed and moaned as she worked out days of soreness and agony from the limb. She heard another pop by her side, and soon her other forelimb was freed. Reaching over with that one, she slowly stretched both limbs, moaning with delight as she did so. In a few seconds, Star Swirl had busted all of the locks, letting Typhoon unceremoniously flop to the floor. After groaning and mumbling for a few seconds, the mare stood up, taking the time to loosen her body in every direction. Flapping her wings a few times, she was exalted to find that she could still fly, and that the limbs hadn’t decayed too badly from disuse. Jubilant, she turned to face Star Swirl. She was immediately rewarded with a small burlap sack striking her face and knocking her over. “Eat. Drink. Arm yourself,” Star Swirl commanded as he telekinetically placed the rest of his provisions around Typhoon. “We need to get moving. Time isn’t on our side.” As Star Swirl ordered, Typhoon tore open one of the bags and almost squealed with delight as she saw real food for the first time in ages. It was all she could do not to choke herself as she gorged on the succulent plants and bread Star Swirl had brought her. In a few minutes she was done, and, pulling out a waterskin, emptied the whole thing in a matter of seconds. “What’s going on?” Typhoon asked as she felt energy build up within her. Opening the final sack, she pulled out her weapons and armor and began to strap them on with expert precision. As she did so, Star Swirl stood and faced the doorway. “Your brother, that’s what,” the old unicorn answered. “Showed up less than ten minutes ago with a sizeable army. Nearly twenty thousand fliers by the look of it, and about a quarter of them wore black armor.” “Praetorian Guards,” Typhoon muttered as she reached for her own black armor. “And what about Cloudsdale? My mother? My father?” “I couldn’t tell you,” Star Swirl replied. “Happened to look out the window just a little while ago and see the first fires. While the Diamond Guard scrambled, I immediately came down here to free you. We have to get to King Lapis before your brother—” “Hey! What the hay are—what are you doing in here?” Typhoon jumped, only half armored, as hauntingly familiar voices assaulted her ears. She looked towards the remains of the doorway where two of the unicorns who regularly beat her were standing. For a moment, panic kicked aside her training and she began to tremble. It took a considerable amount of effort to try and quell that fear. Star Swirl, meanwhile, had calmly turned to face the two newcomers. With a confident step forward, he cleared his throat and addressed them in his grandfatherly voice. “It would be wise of you to turn around and run the other way, young stallions. This doesn’t need to get any more complicated than it currently is.” The larger of the two unicorns, a dark orange stallion, snarled and advanced. “I don’t want to have to wreck your shit, old man, so I suggest you step aside and let us at the mare.” Star Swirl looked beside him at Typhoon, who was still only half armored with one wingblade hanging loosely from the crest. Looking back at the two unicorns in front of him, he responded as neutrally as possible. “No.” The two unicorns both glanced at each other and bared their teeth. As one, they both charged up arcane bursts of energy and released them at Star Swirl. The elder unicorn in response briefly flared up his horn, and with a wall of arcane energy he swatted the two bolts aside. He then raised an eyebrow at the two, as if asking them if that was all they had. Enraged, the two unicorns charged their horns again. This time, the wall and ceiling behind Star Swirl briefly shimmered before suddenly exploding outward. Just before the massive chunks of stone could collide with his back, Star Swirl’s horn lighted again. The orange and blue auras pulling the rocks towards Star Swirl disappeared, replaced by the archmage’s own Arcana. Calmly and delicately, he pushed both piles of rocks back into their proper places without missing a stone. With one final flash, the room around him looked unchanged from ten seconds prior. Star Swirl shook his head. “Tut tut. I expected much more from you two. Whatever do they teach kids these days in magic kindergarten?” Then, with a blinding light, Star Swirl summoned a three-foot wide beam of arcane energy and blasted it at the two unicorns in front of him. When the light cleared, there wasn’t a single hair left to be seen of them. “I do apologize things got so heated, but you were in my way,” Star Swirl said, seemingly to the invisible remains of the two unicorns who previously occupied a point in space across from him. Turning over to Typhoon, he picked up one of her bracers in his Arcana and held it in front of her. Noting the apparent shock in her face, the unicorn shrugged his shoulders. “I abhor violence.” Typhoon cautiously took the bracer from the archmage and began to strap it to her foreleg. “You just completely vaporized them both!” “Yes, and I guarantee that they only felt it for a second,” he nonchalantly responded. “Please, do be quick, we’ve wasted enough time here as it is.” Nodding, Typhoon quickly strapped on the rest of her armor and fixed her sword by her side. Looking at the cirrostratus blade, she could still see burnt flesh and hair clinging to the metal. When she got back to Cloudsdale, she would clean that off. It was too painful of a reminder to let linger, and the only reason she didn’t take care of it now was because Star Swirl was already walking through the door. “Hey, wait up!” Typhoon called as she galloped after him. She paused briefly by the doorframe where Star Swirl’s arcane energy had vaporized the two unicorns. The stone was glowing orange and was slightly springy underneath her hooves. The amount of energy needed to melt stone was simply unfathomable to her, and that he had been able to summon it without breaking a sweat… Well, that explained why he was River Rock’s only archmage. It was simply impossible to measure up to him. “Come along now, before my arthritis starts acting up!” Star Swirl called from the end of the hallway. Typhoon quickly flew over to him, then bit down on her lip as she waited for the old unicorn to ascend the stairs. At the rate of one step every two seconds, it was a painfully long wait. After fighting down the urge to not just carry the unicorn up the stairs until Star Swirl had successfully ascended them, Typhoon came out onto a wide hallway that went on for about a hundred feet before it came to a door. Just as she was ready to fly there, several unicorns came out of the door, horns glowing. With a light push, Star Swirl stayed Typhoon and shook his head. “Sorry, young mare, but let me handle this.” Straightening his hat with his Arcana, Star Swirl slowly began to walk forward. Even as the first volley of arcane and telekinetic attacks came his way, he erected another shield to absorb their Arcana. Then, channeling it into his own horn, he began to fire back with frightening power. “Sorry!” Star Swirl exclaimed as the first unicorn disappeared into a puff of smoke and a blinding flash. The unicorns near him stumbled and dove out of the way, but Star Swirl’s next bolt was ready for them. With another flash, he removed another two unicorns from the face of the earth. “Sorry again!” As a fourth soldier tried to run, he too was instantly vaporized. “Ah yes, please say hello to your grandmother for me, Shimmering Aegis! She was a lovely mare.” When the hallway had been emptied in a terrifying display of power, Star Swirl smiled and began to walk to the other door, whistling as he went. By this point, Typhoon figured that it was a good idea to stay behind the unicorn and let him take care of most of the trouble for her. She hated fighting unicorns anyway. “Well, they sure cleared out in a flash, didn’t they?” Star Swirl asked before lightly chuckling. “Can’t say I don’t blame them. I’d be gone too if I was on the other end of those kinds of blasts.” “Right,” Typhoon slowly replied, eyeing the scorch marks along the walls and floors cautiously. The door at the other end of the hallway was locked, but a little bit of magical finesse from Star Swirl forced it open in no time. There, they stopped in front of a large panoramic window that looked over the north district of River Rock. “Your brother’s absolutely ruthless,” Star Swirl commented as he rested his forehooves along the sill. “And this is only half of the northern district. The other half is entirely obscured by smoke and fire.” “Why would he do this?” Typhoon muttered. “Jewel said that he planned on uniting the three tribes under his rule. Why would he try to completely destroy River Rock?” “My bet is that he wants the Diamond Guard to surrender,” said Star Swirl. “It’s hard to take more soldiers into your ranks if they’re all dead. Plus, a large portion of the Diamond Guard is of noble blood. They’ll do anything to stop the burning of their city—and their inheritance.” Typhoon scoffed. “This is why the Legion professes the words ‘Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem.’ It reminds us that we give everything up for the Legion when we enlist. It’s supposed to prevent personal gains from clouding our judgment…” She sighed and looked back to the fires outside. “Unless the Legion is our personal gain. Then, obviously, it doesn’t work so well.” Star Swirl grunted and began to move down the hall and up a slightly inclining walkway. “Questions for the philosophers to handle. Right now, Imperator, we’ve got a battle to fight. If Cyclone gets to the King…” “Right, well we can’t let that happen,” Typhoon agreed as she fluttered over to Star Swirl. Together, the two ponies ascended the ramp and made it through several hallways and staircases without too much of an incident. Eventually they found themselves in front of a rather large iron door. “Let me take care of that,” Star Swirl said as he walked up to the construction. Finding a hole in the center of the iron, he inserted his horn and focused. After a few seconds of concentration, he relaxed and pulled his horn out. Inside the door, Typhoon could hear the turning and grinding of innumerous gears and bars as whatever locks that had been in place opened. When the grinding and clanging stopped, a single unceremonious push from Star Swirl opened the door. With a small bow, he gestured for Typhoon to go first. The mare hesitated, but ultimately fluttered her wings against her side and walked on through. Just then, there was a loud chorus of shouts from behind them. Both Typhoon and Star Swirl turned to see a company of Diamond Guards, nearly thirty strong, charge into the area. Glancing at Typhoon, Star Swirl lit his horn and shouted with surprising forcefulness. “Go! I’ll take care of these guards! Find Lapis and keep your brother away from him!” “But—” “Now!” Star Swirl ordered. With a wash of green Arcana, the iron doors quickly slammed shut between them. Typhoon could hear the numerous locks and bars sliding back into place, followed by the groaning of twisted metal as the archmage sabotaged the inner workings. Then, there were blasts of mana as the two sides exchanged fire. Releasing a tense breath, Typhoon stretched her wings and began to flutter-sprint down the hall for extra speed. She didn’t know where she was going; she had rarely ever been this far inside of the castle before. She only hoped that by following the largest torches and hallways she’d make her way to some room she recognized. Sliding around a corner, her ears twitched at some sound and she instinctually dove to the ground as a dozen bolts of raw Arcana sailed over her head. “You!” Jewel snarled as Typhoon scrambled up from the ground. “What are you doing out of your cage, bird?! You should have the respect and patience to wait until your master comes to see you, not the other way around!” “Clever,” Typhoon retorted. “Did you think that up yourself? Such a shame that’ll be the last chance you get to taunt me.” “When I put you down, I’m going to rip your wings from your body and use the feathers to stuff your corpse!” Jewel shouted. With the quick scrape of metal against metal, he drew his sword with his Arcana and pointed it at Typhoon in preparation for a formal duel. Typhoon’s response was to draw her sword and flare her wings. Ice briefly shined against the crests, but then it suddenly melted away. In its place was fire, pure and unbridled Empatha screaming for the chance to burn away Jewel’s flesh. To see such powerful flames lash off of the wings of an ice empath was a truly unnerving sight. For Jewel, it was enough to make him take several worried steps backwards. With a scream of fury, Typhoon charged at Jewel, her wings trailing fire as she went. The unicorn in response directed several bursts of magic at her, but Typhoon spun past all of them. Briefly rebounding off of the wall, she suddenly charged forward and swung her sword down towards Jewel. The unicorn was able to deflect the attack by spiraling his blade with his Arcana to catch the blow, and he quickly pushed back even as he backtrotted to put several feet of space between him and the fiery mare. From that position, he attempted to fight at a distance and keep himself away from the scalding tongues of fire. Typhoon wouldn’t make it easy for him, however. Instead, she swung and hammered at the sword in front of her, attempting to sunder the weapon. Using his magic, Jewel was able to spiral and twist the sword with speed, but each of Typhoon’s relentless attacks pushed the sword a little closer to him, and in turn pushed Jewel further back the hall. With another surge of magic, Jewel was able to press back, putting Typhoon off balance and toppling her advantage. The magically-held blade struck at her quicker and harder, and now Typhoon was the one backpedaling to keep the weapon away from her. Juking left and right, she avoided swings and slashes before catching Jewel’s blade on her wing. With a shove of the limb, she forced the weapon away from her and swung at it, knocking it against the wall. Sparks flew as the weapon grated against the stone of the castle wall, but Jewel was able to pull it back just as Typhoon’s sword embedded itself in the stone it was formerly against. Gulping, Jewel lowered his gaze and backed up again, pointing the sword at Typhoon in preparation for her next onslaught. Ripping her weapon out of the wall, Typhoon was more than ready to continue the fight. Again she charged at Jewel, but this time much more aggressively. As Jewel sent out his sword at her, Typhoon deflected it with a wingblade and slid underneath. The sword tumbled through the air and Jewel’s magical grip on the weapon faltered slightly as his face became suddenly full of fiery mare. Just as Typhoon thought she had Jewel beat, the stallion suddenly drew two more swords from additional scabbards against his sides. Both weapons swung themselves at Typhoon, and the mare had to brake hard and throw up her wings to catch both before they could slice at her. Rebounding off the block, Typhoon pivoted on her front hooves and slashed a wingblade towards Jewel’s throat. Twisting his two swords, Jewel was able to easily deflect the strike. Pressing back on Typhoon’s wing, he was able to push his swords to her right side and strike back at her. Typhoon turned herself slightly, but not enough to avoid taking the hilts of two swords bludgeoning her across the face. Typhoon grunted and shook droplets of blood from her nose, which splattered against the stone wall and glass window of the side of the hallway. Snarling, she dove back against Jewel, swinging her wings and windmilling her sword over her head before driving it down towards the stallion. Jewel was able to cross his swords above his head to deflect Typhoon’s spinning slash, but one of her wingblades cut across his right shoulder. The wound instantly seared itself shut with the heat and flames coming off of Typhoon’s wings, but the unicorn still stumbled to the side. Seizing the opportunity, Typhoon twisted onto one of her back hooves and slammed her body down towards Jewel. The weight of the attack disarmed Jewel of another of his swords as he attempted to block, and he suddenly found a wingblade slashing across his left foreleg. As he shouted in pain, he managed to buck Typhoon off of him and roll back into the middle of the hallway. In an instant the mare was up and attacking Jewel again. Swinging her sword left and right and throwing in her wingblades for good measure, she steadily chipped away at Jewel’s defense. She could see the sweat running off his brow as he struggled to keep his magic going, watch his teeth gnash against each other with effort, but she cared little about it. The roar of blood in her ears and the indomitable red haze around her vision blocked everything else out. There was Jewel, and he needed to die. It was all that her rage would permit her to think. After delivering a powerful blow to Jewel’s sword to strike him off balance, Typhoon quickly transitioned to her forehooves and bucked at the weapon. The sword was launched out of Jewel’s magical grasp and into the ceiling, where it stuck. Then, Typhoon bore down on her defenseless enemy. Swinging her sword relentlessly at the gap in Jewel’s armor around his neck, Typhoon drove the stallion backwards at an alarming pace. Jewel desperately bobbed and weaved to avoid the attacks, and, seeking a weapon, located the first sword Typhoon had knocked away from him. With a steady stream of Arcana, he latched onto the sword and pulled, sending the point sailing towards Typhoon’s flanks. Typhoon saw Jewel’s horn light up, and she managed to suppress her rage for a moment of rational thought. Grunting, she swiftly flung herself to one side of the hallway. As she did, she felt a sword pass within an inch of her face. Then, a spatter of blood showered across her brow and armor. She looked up just in time to see Jewel crumple in front of her, his sword lodged deep into his shoulder. Sheathing her sword, Typhoon walked towards Jewel. Her eyes were cold, yet they were full of rage and hate. As Jewel grunted and struggled to crawl away with the sword lodged in his shoulder, Typhoon grabbed the hilt and spun him onto his back. Then, kneeling over, she slammed a foreleg across his throat and pressed. Gasping for air, Jewel tried to shake Typhoon off of him, but his body was too wounded to move her and the heavy armor she wore. Flaring up his horn, Jewel tried to channel mana, but a quick strike from Typhoon against the base of his horn caused him to shout and lose the spell. “No more tricks,” Typhoon flatly said. “No magic can help you now.” Then, reaching towards her side, she pulled out one of her daggers and looked the blade over. “The horn is the most sensitive spot on a unicorn’s body, much like the wings of a pegasus. So I wonder,” she said as she lowered the dagger towards his horn, “Just how sensitive is a unicorn’s horn?” “You… y-you wouldn’t d-dare!” Jewel sputtered as he squirmed under Typhoon’s gasp. “You wouldn’t!!” She would. As the dagger barely dipped into the hard flesh around the base of Jewel’s horn, the stallion grunted. But then Typhoon began to slide the weapon down the length of his horn, shaving off the exterior like the skin of a carrot. The screams were deafening. “Please!!” Jewel wailed as he struggled. Mana and blood spurted from the wound along the length of the horn, and Typhoon began to move to take another slice off. “Please, Typhoon!! I beg you!! Please, stop!!” “How many times did I ask you to stop?” Typhoon quietly simmered. “How many times did I ask you to stop beating me, to stop burning me, to stop scarring me, to stop doing the unspeakable? How many times did I hang against the wall, broken, beaten, violated, and you just laughed?” When she chuckled, Jewel understood the true meaning of fear. “Please! Please, just staaaaAAAAUUGGHH!!!!” The unicorn writhed and thrashed as his words turned into screams. Typhoon remained unmoved, her eyes fixated on the task at hand. She felt nothing stir inside her; nothing except for the morbid satisfaction of vengeance, the joy of making her tormentor finally pay for everything he had done to her. “This ends with your death,” Typhoon flatly stated. “Until then, I’ll enjoy making you scream.” She worked her way around the horn, making each stroke of the dagger longer and deeper than the last. By this point, Jewel’s mane was completely soaked in blood, and bright bursts of rogue Arcana occasionally sparked out of the horn and sizzled against the blood it produced. His screams echoed off of the walls and rattled Typhoon’s ears, but she didn’t pay them any mind. Soon they began to decrease in volume as Jewel’s consciousness began to slip from him. After shaving off the outer layer, Typhoon stepped back to admire her work. “P-please…” Jewel weakly whimpered. “Just… j-just stop… please…” Typhoon regarded the pony in front of her. The once-proud stallion had been reduced to a sniveling wreck of a unicorn. She could see the bare flesh and bone and crackling leylines within the horn that once served a purpose. Now, they were nothing more than meat and support and flickering sparks of mana. Jewel was suffering, and greatly so. Not only had he experienced the greatest pain in his life, but now his pride was taken from him as well. She remembered that he didn’t take her wings. They had been twisted, sure, and they had been bruised, but he hadn’t taken them from her. It might not have meant much to the broken mare at the time, but it was something now. Losing her wings would have absolutely crushed her, and she would have given up on life. “Just… kill me… kill me and be done with it…” Typhoon sighed and lowered her dagger against Jewel’s neck. In one fluid motion, she slit his throat, ending his life. The muscles in his body relaxed, and his neck rolled back, spewing blood onto the ground around him. Standing up, Typhoon sheathed her dagger and nodded towards the body. “May Mobius show you his mercy in the Great Skies, or wherever it is your soul goes off to when you die.” Then, turning around, she looked at the closed door ahead of her. “And may he show me mercy for my actions and judge my honor accordingly.” Her hooves echoed sadly off the stone walls as she walked towards the door. With a thud, she shut it behind her, leaving Jewel’s body to bleed out across the center of the hall. ----- Amidst a shower of rain and arrows, Cyclone descended unto the streets of River Rock. All around him was death and chaos. Ponies ripped each other apart from the highest spires of the city to the snow-choked streets below. The Diamond Guard had responded at the signs of the first fires in the north, but it did little to help them against the combat expertise of the Legion. Unicorn blood and armor rained down from the buildings and spilled out into the streets, freezing over into a crimson quagmire as it touched the snow and ice. On either side of the Emperor, several companies of the Praetorian Guard descended and formed up around him. Overhead, half of the remaining regiment provided overwatch against archers on the buildings, while the rest of the troops flew off ahead towards the castle. After checking that his soldiers were in perfect formation, Cyclone loosened his sword and began to shout orders. “Praetorians, shields!” he screamed over the chaos of the siege around him. All of the pegasi reached behind themselves and fastened sturdy onyx shields to their left foreleg. When they were all sufficiently equipped, Cyclone grabbed his own shield and drew his sword. With a quick flutter of his wings, he elevated himself above the Praetorian Guard and pointed down the street towards the sturdy masonry of Burning Hearth. “As one! Advance!” Settling himself back into his position at the head of the column, Cyclone led the advance against the castle. The heavy shield fastened to his left foreleg was a little unnatural, as pegasi usually didn’t fight with shields, but it was exactly what he needed to terrorize the Diamond Guard. When the unicorns saw an unstoppable wall of Cirra’s elite advance towards them, their morale would immediately be broken. Cyclone spared himself glances down the side streets as the column advanced. The dead bodies of unicorns littered the snow and ice everywhere, interspersed with the occasional Legionnaire. The grinding of sword against sword filled the main street as Legionnaires fought and overwhelmed their Diamond Guard enemies in a flurry of strikes and skysteel.  To the left, a company of Legionnaires had a small group of unicorns pinned against the side of a building. The pegasi swung their swords at the weapons the unicorns held aloft in their magic to move them out of the way before whirling into a series of slashes with their wingblades. Blood sprayed from wounds and the screams of the dying were plainly heard as their bodies fell, one by one. Within a few seconds, five unicorns had been turned into five horned corpses, and the company of Legionnaires flew off to find new targets. To the right, a group of Legionnaires led by a centurion had several Diamond Guards penned in. Their weapons and armor lay off to the side, and the unicorns were shivering and scared. With a forceful shout, the centurion led the prisoners away to the northern quarter of the city where Cyclone’s Legion was holding the defectors. Cyclone smiled to himself as he saw them go. Smart bastards, they were. There was a shout, and Cyclone looked up. Amongst the smoke and haze, Cyclone spotted a wedge formation of pegasi diving across the street from the right. Each one held a large clay pot in their hooves, which left a trail of smoke behind it as they dove. “Brace!” Cyclone shouted as he propped his shield up and leaned against it. Around him he could hear the unmistakable stomping and clattering of armor as the Praetorians wordlessly obeyed his command. There was a short chorus of shouts, and then the wedge of pegasi released the pots they held in their grasp and swiftly banked hard right. The earthen containers flew forward on their momentum and slammed into a group of buildings along the right side of the street. There was an impressive plume of fire and a wash of heat as tongues of flame leapt from the smoking pots and scorched through the buildings. With a boom, the streets shook from the explosion, and Cyclone could feel his teeth rattling in his jaw. When the shaking stopped, Cyclone relaxed his posture and looked at the carnage. Several burning bodies fell out of the windows of the torchwood buildings, and the unicorns on ground level cringed and fled in the opposite direction. The Legionnaires on the street cheered and took wing, pursuing the fleeing Diamond Guard. “Shields down and march!” Cyclone shouted to the Praetorian Guard. As one, the soldiers loosened their brace and lowered their shields to march with Cyclone. With his guard still entirely intact and unshaken behind him, Cyclone continued the measured march towards the castle. As Cyclone burst through the wall of smoke and flame the firebomb Legionnaires had created, he could see several unicorns in defensive positions ahead of him. Their horns lit up in preparation for an offensive barrage of spells, but their magic dissipated almost immediately as they saw rank after rank of the Praetorian Guard emerge behind Cyclone. As the smoke and ash swirled to reveal a seemingly demonic legion of unfazed Cirrans, the Diamond Guards abandoned their positions and fled for their lives. “Steady!” Cyclone shouted as he sensed some of the pegasi around him repressing the urge to give chase. “Steady now! Keep to the pace, we advance as one!” The unicorns that had abandoned their position soon left the Praetorians behind, disappearing behind another veil of smoke from a separate firebombing run. Cyclone could see the looming spires of Castle Burning Hearth standing tall on the other side. They were close, but he knew the worst to come was waiting just on the other side of that smoke. “Ready shields!” Cyclone ordered as he shifted his own onyx shield higher up his foreleg. When the Praetorian had finished adjusting their defenses, he began to march again through the smoke. The scattered sparks and coals struck at his face and eyes, but Cyclone paid them no mind. Instead it only seemed to make him more comfortable and more confident. His Empatha thrived off of fire, and he walked through the haze of smoke and ash, his wings swirling the clouds behind him as the rest of the Praetorian advanced by his sides. Almost immediately they were greeted by a barrage of arrows. Several hundred arrows rained down on the Praetorians from all over the castle. Instinctively dropping himself behind his shield, Cyclone could feel the lethal points pounding against the skysteel and stone, causing it to shake against his foreleg. Around him, several Praetorians were felled by lucky shots, and a few airborne soldiers dropped amongst the main unit on the ground, but the pegasi only shifted to fill in the gaps in the ranks. Turning his head to the regiment of Praetorian Guards above him, Cyclone pointed with his sword towards the castle. “Clear out those archers, now!” With a brief salute, the general commanding that regiment relayed the order back to his stallions, and with the silent battle cry of the Praetorian Guard the soldiers flew upwards to try and strip the castle of its defenses. Of those there were many. Castle Burning Hearth was covered in numerous balconies and firing positions from top to bottom, and each one was fully packed with archers. The multihued wash of Arcana made a glittering display of these balconies as the archers reloaded and took aim again. At a glance, Cyclone put together that there were easily several hundred archers all along Burning Hearth’s battlements that were raining death down on the soldiers below. Just then, another massive volley of arrows was released from the castle. The shafts made a horrible whistling sound as they flew, and the sky seemed to almost darken from the sheer number in the air. Much of the Praetorian Guard that was in the air had to disperse and bank hard to weave out of the way of the arrows, but still some fell as the barrage continued on its path downwards. “Shields!” Cyclone ordered. Hunching over, he lowered his head behind his own shield and braced it with his shoulder. Above him, he could see the Praetorians in the successive rank raise their shields over the first rank’s heads to protect them from the volley. Bracing in that position the entire way back through the regiment, the Praetorian Guard awaited the incoming barrage. It was an experience that would break lesser stallions. The shields rattled violently and threatened to topple Cyclone and the other Praetorians trying to stand up to the volley. The rumble and roar of arrows bouncing off of skysteel and onyx was deafening, and Cyclone gritted his teeth to try and press back against the volley. He heard a few choking gasps and shouts around him as some arrows found the tiny holes in the Praetorian Guard’s defense and dropped a few soldiers. Then as quickly as it began it was over, and Cyclone lowered his shield and began to advance again. The courtyard in front of the castle was absolutely filled with bodies of both factions, with arrows sticking out of the necks and chests of most of them. There had to be several hundred if not thousand bodies in this stretch of land alone, and the amount of arrows littering the ground almost made it difficult to walk across. On the top of the castle, Cyclone could see the archers reloading for the next volley. They never got the chance. With two regiments of Legionnaires at their tail, the airborne Praetorian Guard slammed across the balconies of the castle. Ponies fell by the dozens off of the walls, screaming and twisting as they plummeted to their deaths. The archers tried to brace themselves, to retaliate, to do anything, but the relentless stream of Cirrans put them into such bad chaos and disarray that they could do little except scream and die. A cloud of red fog hung in the air in front of the castle as the Legion completed its first pass of the castle, and Cyclone couldn’t see any more Arcana lining the balconies. The archers were, for the most part, completely decimated. “Alright, stallions!” Cyclone shouted over his shoulder. “This is it! We sever the head of the Diamond Kingdom and it’s ours! Now,” he called out as he pointed his sword towards the massive iron doors of the castle, “Praetorians! Charge!!” With a collective shout and the drumming of thousands of hooves in unison, the Praetorians sped across the open ground toward the castle. There were still several Legionnaires and Diamond Guards dueling in the courtyards, but Cyclone didn’t care. The Legionnaires that were smart saw the Praetorian Guard coming and broke from combat, leaving their opponents momentarily confused before the wall of Cirra’s finest slammed through and eviscerated them before they had the chance to react. Several other Diamond Guards tried to stand and fight, but only after a momentary delay in their charge did the Praetorians cut them down. In a minute, the Praetorian Guard had crossed the courtyard and gotten under the range of the archers with only a few casualties. There were a few ragtag Legionnaires huddled against the stone walls, panting for breath and their faces streaked with soot and blood. In front of the iron door, a group of fifteen Legionnaires were trying to slam a portable ram against it to force it open, but to little effect. A series of manashots and arrows suddenly emerged from murder slits decorating the stonework around the door, and several Legionnaires were pelted relentlessly and fell. “Sir, we don’t have the manpower to open this door!” a centurion shouted to Cyclone. Blood had repainted one side of his green face red, and a wing hung loosely by his side. “Not when we’re getting pounded like this!” Cyclone turned to the Praetorians behind him. “Give me some space, and keep their attacks away from me.” Then turning back to the centurion, Cyclone pushed him aside and drew his sword. “Let me handle this, soldier.” Centering his sword on the seam between the two iron doors, Cyclone took a deep breath. With a sudden shout of rage, his entire body ignited in flames. The Empatha cascaded down his sword until it glowed brighter than the sun. Then, plunging the cumulostratus sword into the seam of the doors, Cyclone pulled downwards. The iron soon glowed orange with heat, and shortly thereafter began to hiss and bubble as the sheer power of Cyclone’s Empatha began to melt it away. The centurion stood back, amazed, but the rest of the Praetorian hardly seemed to notice. Apparently they had expected nothing less of their Emperor, and they instead focused on keeping the Diamond Guard away from him. With one last hiss and a crack, Cyclone could hear the bar holding the doors shut suddenly burst as he sliced through it. Withdrawing his sword, he pivoted on his front hooves and delivered a powerful buck to the doors. The massive behemoths swung open, and he could hear several startled shouts as unfortunate unicorns tried to hold the scalding doors closed or were otherwise smashed across the face as they opened. Those that were farther back cursed and charged their horns to try and riddle Cyclone with holes. Before they could even try, however, the Praetorian Guard rushed into the castle. Their gold and onyx weapons flew true, and the skysteel blades discharged their terrifying effects on each soldier they cut into. In a matter of seconds, the first line of Burning Hearth’s defense was cut to ribbons. “Move… out…!” Cyclone panted as he stumbled into the room. “I want this castle locked down, now. High Guard, on me, we’re going to pay Lapis a visit!” Then he stumbled forward, and the centurion cautiously approached his side. “Sir, are you alright?” Cyclone angrily waved him off with a wing, scattering sparks everywhere. “I’m fine, soldier, but don’t expect me to discharge that much Empatha at once again. Luckily, I can deal with a few hundred Diamond Guards while winded.” Stepping forward, he stopped in the center of the long hallway leading deeper into the castle, closer and closer to King Lapis. Raising his head, Cyclone confidently screamed into the air: “Brace yourself for the storm, good King! The Diamond Kingdom is finished!!” ----- Hurricane’s wings ached by the time he crossed over Low Valley territory. He had been flying almost nonstop for the past four days since defeating the Windigos in Equestria. That, combined with the weight of his armor and weapons and the blades on his wing crests, left him panting in flight. Pan Sea stuck by Hurricane’s side the entire flight. Although worried about the Commander’s exertion, and the stress in his own wings as well, he remained silent. After what had just happened in Cloudsdale… there were times when there was nothing to say, and now was one of them. If Hurricane wanted to talk, he would talk, and if he wanted to grieve, then Pan Sea would let him grieve. After all, the legate they picked up before leaving seemed to have the thousands of soldiers following in Hurricane’s wake under control. He glanced back at the pair of soldiers spearheading the formation—the “Iron Legion” as the mare leading it had apparently settled on. They were definitely an odd couple; Iron Rain was at least six or seven years older than Pathfinder, and had a musculature easily as strong as his within a very athletic body. When she wasn’t screaming orders at the top of her lungs, she was trading quips and jokes with her husband, who reluctantly flew by her side. He would nod or chuckle occasionally, but as a whole he flew on, silent. With a sudden spurt of speed, Iron Rain accelerated up to Hurricane’s side. “Impressive legion you’ve put together, sir. They’ll be damn good soldiers, even if more than a few were trading blows with each other a few hours ago.” Hurricane delayed before speaking. “Hmm… I hope so. Imperator Cyclone’s got the Praetorian Guard with him, and the Gods know how many other soldiers. They’ve been working on River Rock for a few hours by now. When we get there, they’ll be heavily entrenched at the castle.” Rain scoffed. “You think the Diamond Guard will fall apart that easily, Commander? This is their territory we’re talking about.” “Yes it is,” Hurricane agreed, “But they aren’t a match for Praetorians, let alone the thousands of troops that defected along with Cyclone. They’ll likely have taken the district around the castle by now; in a short while, they’ll have the castle itself.” The Legate flew silent for a few moments, thinking. “If they’re going to be entrenched, sir, how are we going to drive out Praetorians? I mean, I could handle myself charging the gates, but I don’t know about him.” With a flick of her wing, she gestured towards Pathfinder in flight. Seeing her attention focused on him, Finder scowled, causing Rain to giggle. Hurricane ignored it. “It’s going to be bloody, that much is certain. We’ll have to rout them with numbers alone; the Praetorian is going to find all the best defensive positions and lock them down, and they won’t break until they’re dead. They’re loyal to their leader, and they’ll fight until the bitter end.” “Pardon me for asking, sir, but aren’t you their leader?” Rain accused. The Commander shook his head. “The Praetorian Guard was founded to protect the Emperor, no matter their actions.” “So? Aren’t you technically the emperor in all but title, sir?” “They’re convinced I’m dead and my son proclaimed himself emperor,” Hurricane said. “The Praetorian is loyal to the system, not the pony in charge of it. They’ll stand and fight, as he commands, for he is their emperor now.” Rain grunted. “Then how should we deploy the troops, sir? We stand a better chance if we just drive straight for the castle. We’ll be fresh, and they’ll be weary.” “No,” Hurricane countered. “We’ll only get cut off and taken apart, and this ‘Iron Legion’ of yours will be for nothing. Despite how fearsome of a soldier you must be to be a legate, none of these soldiers can stand up to a Praetorian alone. You’ll lead them to their deaths.” The mare huffed but stayed her tongue. “We need the Diamond Guard’s support,” Hurricane continued. “Their magic and knowledge with the local terrain will help us get past the Praetorian. After all, it’ll be hard to form a defensive line with magic thrown your way.” “If I may, sir, this plan is going to backfire horribly,” Rain insisted. “We’ll lose too many soldiers trying to liberate the city; many valuable soldiers that could help us retake the castle. And if what you said earlier is right, then they’re worthless against the Praetorian. We’re better taking our chances with what we have, killing the usurper, and putting an end to this thing once and for all.” “We’re not killing my son!” Hurricane growled at the Legate. “I’ve lost enough family today!” “Sir, there might not be a choice,” Rain softly reminded him. “Then let me deal with it,” said Hurricane. Then he turned an accusing eye towards the mare. “And you’re thinking too much like the Imperator yourself. You think we can do this by ourselves, but we can’t. Old Cirra is gone, and despite Cyclone’s attempts to bring it back, it won’t happen. We have to work together with the other races, or we’re all going to die.” “But I—” “Report back to the legion, Legate,” Hurricane commanded. “You have your orders. I expect them to be carried out faithfully.” With a quick salute, Rain relented from her position and drifted back towards the main body of the Legion. Hurricane could hear her shouting orders, and listened as those orders cascaded down the ranks until each centurion relayed them to their troops. Then there was silence, and Hurricane looked back to see Rain and Finder flying side by side again, although the Legate seemed slightly deflated. Looking below and off to the right, Hurricane could see small wisps of smoke rise from the buildings of Amber Field. There were no fires, though, and the city seemed absolutely peaceful. Cyclone must have spared the earth ponies until he had taken care of the unicorns and gotten the Diamond Guard under his wing. Besides, the earth pony police force wouldn’t have been able to do much against several hundred Legionnaires, let alone several thousand plus the Praetorian Guard. Directly ahead, differentiating itself from the clouds as they approached, was a thick plume of black smoke rising from between the massive cliff walls of a valley. Tiny flakes of orange flame and ash drifted on the swirling winds pouring out of the storm clouds overhead. The valley was awash in an orange glow, and the thin trickle of the water scattered its light skywards. Overhead, tiny black dots rode the currents and dive-bombed the city below, scattering fire and smoke with each new pass. “Back where I started twelve years ago…” Hurricane mumbled to himself. “That was the last time I broke a siege around River Rock. Today, I’m going to end another.” Pan Sea fluttered closer to Hurricane’s side and looked down on the fiery mess that was once the pride of the Diamond Kingdom. “It’s finally come down to this, hasn’t it, Hurricane?” Hurricane was surprised to hear Pan Sea actually call him by name. “I suppose it has, Pan Sea. I’ll be glad when we can finally bury this once and for all.” The smallish pegasus nodded and flapped his wings a few more times in the silence. “Whatever happens, it’s been an honor to fly by your side, sir.” “Hey, we’re not going to die now after coming so far, right?” Hurricane nudged Pan Sea with his elbow in flight. “Besides, you’ve got a lot to live for. Too many have died today; you don’t need to join them. So stick in there for one more fight, eh?” Pan Sea chuckled. “If you say so, Hurricane. If you say so.” Then the two pegasi began to glide downwards towards the city several miles away. Behind them, the Iron Legion descended with them. And the second Legion that day made its way into the killing fields of the unicorn capital. ----- Typhoon pressed her back against a doorway as she heard several pairs of armored hooves trot by on the other side. She had made her way through hallway after hallway and had seemingly gotten nowhere for the past fifteen minutes. Every once in a while, a group of Diamond Guards would storm through a room, quickly take stock, and leave, presumably going to the front. Typhoon tried to follow them as they left, but she continually lost the trail in the sounds of battle and chaos going on outside. When the hooves had gone, Typhoon carefully opened the door and looked around. She could see flickering shadows disappear around the corner to her left, and she cautiously fluttered after them. Even though she was technically opposing Cyclone’s invasion of the city, she didn’t want to get caught by the Diamond Guard. With the city burning outside, the unicorns wouldn’t listen to a pegasus wandering the halls of their castle. Her best bet was to find King Lapis and explain herself. The King would understand, unlike the rest of the soldiers in the castle. If Cyclone got to him, the entirety of the Diamond Guard would be in his hooves. Following the shadows and sounds of death, Typhoon slowly worked her way through the castle. Occasionally she’d have to sprint to the ceiling and cling to a chandelier as she heard a squad of Diamond Guards approaching, holding her breath and praying that they didn’t look up. None of them ever did, and she was thankful that her blond coat was a close enough match to the color of stone in the dim candlelight around her. As soon as they passed by, she quietly fluttered down and gently trotted after them on her naked hooves. At least the steel horseshoes the Diamond Guard wore made it easy to hear them coming. Following a company through an open door, Typhoon jumped back in alarm as several stray arrows skimmed past her nose. Clinging to the doorframe, Typhoon leaned out to see what was going on. Praetorians. There were several of them in this small access point between halls, fighting and routing a much larger company of Diamond Guards blocking their path. Their skysteel swords sang with death as they slashed them through the air, bringing fire, ice, thunder, and lightning to the unlucky unicorns they felled. Although the Diamond Guards tasked with defending the castle staunchly held firm in the face of such frightening slaughter, that was exactly what it was. Deciding she had delayed long enough, Typhoon left the cover of the doorframe and flew in the opposite direction of the fight. If the Praetorian Guard was here, that meant Cyclone was somewhere inside the castle. There was little time left; she had to get to Lapis, fast. Quickly taking wing, Typhoon managed to fly up to the ceiling just before a large company of Diamond Guards entered the room ahead of her. Their captain shouted orders, and the unicorns swiftly set about trying to secure defensive positions. Before they could get even halfway done, however, a storm of Praetorian Guards smashed through their lines, ripping the outmatched unicorns apart limb from limb and spilling crimson vitality all over the marble floors. In the chaos, Typhoon was able to dive out of the room and continue down the hall. After twisting and turning her way through numerous corridors in the labyrinth that was the castle, Typhoon suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Ahead of her was an entire company of Diamond Guards, massacred where they had once stood. Several fractured pieces of armor scattered the hall, along with numerous clean, diamond weapons. Most of the bodies were covered in scorch marks, and the stone walls seemed warped, as if a fire had passed through here recently. Gods, no. There was a shattered door along the right side of the hall, and Typhoon galloped through it. More dead bodies and scorch marks lined the passages, and she could hear shouting ahead of her. There was a resounding thud that echoed off the castle walls, followed by the scrape of skysteel against diamond. An authoritative voice shouted orders, and all too quickly the sounds of combat stopped. “Cyclone!!” Typhoon screamed as she galloped towards the throne room. “Cyclone, stop this madness!!” ----- “Please! Please oh please oh—gaaaaaugh!!!” Cyclone grimaced as he plunged the blade of his sword into the throat of a Diamond Guard. The blood spattered across the side of his muzzle, and Cyclone shut his right eye as the vitality of the unicorn sprayed over his face. As the weight on the end of the blade sagged, Cyclone grunted and wrenched his sword to the left, freeing it from the Guard’s neck with a savage slash. The gurgling of blood choking through the remains of his neck was the only sound that the soldier made as his limp body fell dead to the ground. Around him, the Praetorian Guard formed a loose ring that freely flowed around Cyclone as he progressed, creating defensive lines in hallways and protecting his flanks. It led for relatively swift progress throughout the castle and left a trail of bodies in its wake. “Praetorians!” Cyclone shouted, looking around him. “Door, now!” On command, the Praetorian Guard assembled into two lines, each two ranks deep, cutting off both sides of the hallway. Another knot of Praetorians in the middle lowered their shields and hoisted a portable ram between them. With a single command, the soldiers shouted and rammed the heavy nimbus skysteel into the door. The stratus head on the ram smashed into the door and released a burst of thunder, rattling the heavy oak. The Praetorians recoiled from the blow and backed up to the end of the hall, lowering their shoulders for another strike. Cyclone watched the hall around him while this went on. Several Diamond Guard companies rallied to the outside of the throne room, but the double ranks of Praetorians slaughtered those that got too close with ease and pushed the survivors back. Charging their horns, the Diamond Guard resorted to showering the soldiers with Arcana. Knowing that he couldn’t afford for his soldiers to take such blows, Cyclone flew into the middle of them. Pointing his sword at one company of soldiers, he flared his wings. “CHARGE!!” Around him, the thudding of hooves advanced as one solid wall of noise, even as the similarly solid wall of soldiers suddenly bore down on the flat-footed unicorns. Those that were close were split limb from limb in a second, while those further down the hall turned tail and fled, abandoning their weapons as they did so. “Halt!” Cyclone shouted as his soldiers were almost to the corner. “Fall back and resume defensive stance! Don’t let them bait you out!” The Praetorian responded with a guttural grunt and resumed their original positions. Behind him, Cyclone could see that the doors to the throne room were badly battered, and a magical aura from within was trying to hold them shut. As the ram hit again, it strained and flickered, barely holding the door in place. Sheathing his sword, Cyclone picked up the very rear of the ram and braced it against his shoulder. “One more time! Bring the doors down!” With a heave, Cyclone helped the Guards propel the ram forward. Spreading his wings for balance, the Emperor shouted as his body absorbed the shock from the ram pummeling the door. With the cracking and splintering of oak and metal, the doors gave way ever so slightly. Inside, he could hear the curses and screams of unicorns who ruptured leylines trying to hold the door shut with their Arcana. The small opening provided by the ram was just enough for the soldiers to fit in, one by one. The first few that entered were mercilessly riddled with bolts of Arcana, falling within a few feet of the door. The next ranks that made it through were able to quickly take wing, avoiding the bolts of mana the Diamond Guard sent their way. As soon as he heard the scraping of metal against metal, Cyclone squeezed his way in and flared his wings, taking stock of the situation. There were ten unicorns in the room, but they quickly began to fall as Praetorians engaged them. Unicorn blood covered the stairs and armor tumbled down in pieces along with the filleted Diamond Guards. The weapons clattered noisily on the ground, and the screams of the dying were short. And in the center of it all, standing in front of his throne with two guards by his side, was King Lapis himself. “Nopony goes after Lapis!” Cyclone shouted as he slowly walked through the room. Behind him, the rest of the Praetorian had forced open the doors and had filled the room, making a wall behind Cyclone. “He’s mine and mine alone!” Lapis glowered at Cyclone as he advanced. By this point, the other guards in the room save the two by his sides had been downed, most fatally so. The Praetorian Guard took up positions around the room, ensuring that there were no more unicorns hiding in the shadows or up above. The noise in the room had died down to a quiet grunting and panting as the Emperor of Cirra challenged the King of the Diamond Kingdom. “King Lapis, your reign over the Diamond Kingdom is finished. River Rock and all of its holdings belong to the Cirran Empire, now and forever, and in the name of the Gods themselves. Surrender now, or die.” Lapis bared his teeth as he glared down at Cyclone. His horn was nearly black from the Scourge, and the crown around it was stained with blood, yet he still resembled a powerful king. His response was just as definitive of that role. “Conquest does not make you just in the eyes of your gods,” he spat. “You’ve ruined the lives of innocent ponies, butchered fathers and husbands for your conceited dreams of empire. What have you to gain from so much death?” Cyclone smiled and walked closer to the throne. “Everything we’ve ever lost. Your ponies will make good fodder against the Gryphon Hordes when we retake Dioda. Then, Cirra will have an Empire that spans an ocean, and everything will be as it was meant to be. The Empire will be reborn!” “I remember your kind when they first arrived,” Lapis said in a grim voice. “A small party of soldiers tasked with finding new land. Strangers, lost in a land they did not know, and weak. We gave them food, showed them our cities, counseled them. We welcomed the chance to work together with winged ponies.” Raising his head, he looked down his nose at Cyclone. “Given the benefit of hindsight, we should have killed them when they first came. It would have saved many more lives in the two decades since.” “Nopony else has to die today,” Cyclone said. “Order the Diamond Guard to surrender, and then step down. River Rock is already lost, whether or not you and you alone decide to add to the bloodshed.” Lapis’ decayed horn sparked a few times in anger. “I am too old to fear death, and my kind will never forgive you for this devastation. We shall fight you with every last soldier we have. The better to spite your dreams for conquest by forcing you to rebuild the Diamond Guard from scratch. I hope many more of your precious Legionnaires die in the coming hours.” Cyclone growled. It all would have been so much easier if the idiot just gave up. Flicking his wing crests out to the sides, the red pegasus began to advance. Four Praetorians pounced on Lapis’ two guards, dragging the struggling unicorns away and slitting their throats. With a short flutter of his wings, Cyclone bypassed the steps entirely and landed on the dais where King Lapis still stood defiant. The King didn’t even flinch when Cyclone drew a dagger and eyed him, waiting for some sort of reaction. “Do your worst, and may it bring you and your usurpers to Tartarus for all of eternity.” The blade was quick and terrifying. A slash of steel and a glint of light, and the King was left wheezing for breath. “Cyclone!! Cyclone, stop this madness!!” The great emperor of Cirra flinched and his blood turned to ice as he heard his sister’s voice. Lifting one nervous hoof off the ground, Cyclone slowly turned away from the dying monarch and toward the door. There she stood, blocked off from the throne by several resolute Praetorians. Her armor and face were spattered with blood, and her sword was crimson instead of the blue it normally was. Her features were haggard, her frame lean, and her hair dirty and unkempt. A distinct scar cut across the right side of her face, a terrible burn mark that crossed her brow and eye before running down her cheek and the side of her muzzle. In her haunted eyes was a sort of bewildered anger mixed with desperation. “T-Typhoon?” he stammered, the feathers of his wings inching out ever so slightly in alarm. “What are you doing here?” It was the only thing he could ask. He knew what happened to her, but that didn’t make him want to strangle Jewel any less. He never wished that sort of abuse on his little sister. He was promised she would be taken care of, and it was on that promise that he had left her in River Rock in the first place. His actions had put her through hell. When Typhoon looked at him, there was hurt in her eyes. “I came here to stop you, Cyclone. To stop this madness before you threw yourself over the cliff. But…” she paused, seeing the dying figure of Lapis behind her brother. “But it looks like I’m too late.” Cyclone said nothing, instead only looking at the King as he bled out. “Why, Cyclone,” Typhoon pleaded, “why are you doing this? Why do so many have to die, why did you put me through the worst horror I’ve ever experienced?! Is all this pain and suffering worth it to you? Is this what you want to be remembered for? The bloodthirsty tyrant who betrayed his family and toppled nations to build his empire?!” “NO!!” Cyclone shouted. Even the Praetorians in the room flinched from the forcefulness of Cyclone’s denial. The Emperor was panting through clenched teeth, and he looked at Typhoon from underneath his helmet. “Everything I’ve done is for Cirra. Every. Last. Thing. Whether or not you or mother recognized it, everything I’ve done is to take back Dioda. We will be the strong empire we were once again. We’ll drive the griffons out of our homeland, and then we’ll kill Magnus. And it’ll be over. The war will be over.” “What war?” Typhoon said. “There is no war other than the one you started!” “The Red Cloud War isn’t over,” Cyclone insisted. “No, it’s far from over. Until we take back Stratopolis and Zephyrus and Nimbus, it’ll never be over. Until one of our two races is ground into the dust, it’ll never be over.” “It is over!” Typhoon shouted. “It was over when our father led Cirra across the ocean! When Stratopolis fell, we lost, don’t you get it? It ended there and then!” Her wings shook visibly, and she stepped closer to the Praetorians. They responded by lowering their weapons against her but refrained from attacking. “All you’ve done is prolong the death and the suffering on these foals’ dreams! You’ve thrown away family and friends, Cyclone. You betrayed me, Cyclone, me, your own sister!” Cyclone’s shoulders shook. “Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem. Before the Legion there was nothing, and after the Legion there will be nothing.” Then he stood tall, and all uncertainty was washed from his face. “Our oath tells us to put nothing between us and our service to the Legion. All I’ve done is to better the Legion, Typhoon. All I’ve ever done. And if I had to put my family out of the way to do so…” “Your family is the Legion,” Typhoon gravely said. “And you betrayed us.” “It was never my intention to hurt you.” “And yet it happened anyway.” Cyclone scowled. “I was going to have you freed when River Rock was under my control. I could have shown you everything that I put together, and maybe then you would have understood. You could have flown by my side, and we would have ruled the new Empire together.” “And what about mom and dad?” Typhoon challenged him. “Are you just going to kill them too?” “I don’t expect them to understand,” Cyclone muttered. “They can stay behind or side with me. Either way, with the entirety of the Legion in my control, not even father could stand against me.” “You don’t know that,” Typhoon seethed. “One pony, no matter how skilled, cannot take on a Legion.” Typhoon took a deep breath and locked eyes with her brother. “Cyclone... please, end this.” She reached for her sword, carefully loosening the hilt from its scabbard. “Don’t make me have to.” Cyclone’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He knew that look in her eyes. It was hers and hers alone, the grim resolve and unflinching determination nestled within. “You… you would kill me? Your only brother?” The words were mere whispers. Typhoon said nothing. Her sadness was plainly written on her face as she drew her blade. The tip quivered nervously as she held it in her mouth. Drawing his own sword, Cyclone looked to the Praetorians on either side. “Guards, back. I will kill anyone who attempts to intervene. If I die… she is your new emperor.” With a single nod, the Praetorian Guards slowly parted for Typhoon to enter the room. She did so nervously, cautiously, keeping wary eyes on the ponies in onyx around her. With the solid hiss of steel against oiled steel, dozens of blades slid into their scabbards. The Guard was watching to see whom it would follow. There would be no turning back now. Cyclone slowly walked down the dais until he stood on the even tiling of the floor. He and Typhoon were barely ten feet apart from each other, close enough to pick out the individual strands of hair on each other’s coats. They stood in silence, swords drawn, panting not from exertion, but from anticipation. Typhoon studied Cyclone just as much as she knew he was studying her. In front of her was not the brother she knew. Cyclone was proud, yes, but he was caring and supportive. For as long as she could remember, he had been by her side. Even then he had been harsh, he had been mean, but he loved her. “Cyclone!” I shouted to my brother. Mom and Dad were off doing Gods know what, leaving their children to hang around the palace by ourselves. I had taken the opportunity to scamper out of the palace and away from its walls. I hated being cooped up inside the cloudstone walls. It was much more pleasant in the cool summer sunshine. “What is it now, Ty?” a bored voice came from behind me. As I looked over my shoulder, I watched Cyclone lazily canter over towards me. He was only eight, but in my five-year-old eyes he was still unimaginably wise. I leaned forward and let the breeze blow through my short, multicolored mane. The sun was warm on my feathers, and I opened them to the sky, letting the heat build in my wings. The small things at my sides quivered and twitched with each passing ripple of air, and I gave them a few cheery flutters. I giggled to myself as I felt spirals of air behind me twist through my tail. “I wanna go flying!” I shouted, more to the world than to my brother. I looked at my wings, at the short primary feathers that were rapidly growing. They were strong, blond things, nearly identical to Mommy’s. How I loved Mommy. “You’re too young for that,” Cyclone muttered. He teasingly smiled at me and reclined against a bank of cloud. “Wings that small and you’ll never be able to fly. The Legion’s gonna laugh at you.” I contorted my face into as angry a pout as I could muster. “Nuh-uh! I’m gonna be the best flier in the Legion some day! Just you wait!” Cyclone scoffed. “I’m waiting, sis, and I’m not seeing anything.” “Oh yeah, well watch this!” I turned around and leaned off the edge of the cloud, shaking my rump in some imitation of a cat stalking her prey. I could see for miles from up here. There was the town of Amber Field, impossibly large and sprawling across hills and low valleys for as far as the eye could see. It was impressive just to look at; Cloudsdale was little, but Daddy said that they were adding more every day. One day, it would be bigger than Amber Field and River Rock put together! I looked a little farther to the south. I couldn’t see River Rock from this angle, but I knew where the mountains were that it was built under. There was always a little plume of smoke rising from it too. Cyclone said it was from the castle, where the unicorn king and his daughter, the princess resided. He usually teased me, saying how one day I’d be a princess too and would have to sit around wearing a pretty dress while stallions of all ages came and asked for my hoof in marriage. Ew, no, I told him. I only wanted to be a Legionnaire like Mommy and Daddy, and maybe one day if I was good enough, I’d be a member of Daddy’s Praetorian Guard! But that would never happen if I couldn’t fly. Cyclone’s words bit at my pride, and I scowled to myself. I inched closer to the edge of the cloud and opened my wings, my tiny tail twitching back and forth in anticipation. “Typhoon?” Cyclone said from behind me. His voice was considerably more worried than it had been just previously. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can’t even glide yet!” My naivety mistook my brother’s warning for another challenge. “Who needs to glide?!” I retorted. “I’m gonna fly!” Before Cyclone could give out more than a startled shout, I closed my eyes and leapt off of the cloud. I dove, my eyes shut and a smile plastered across my face. The wind screeching past my ears and ripping tears from my eyes felt so natural to me. I folded my body into an arrow and felt the air glide past me with ease. I felt so alive. I had finally satiated my pegasus instincts. I opened my wings. The air tested the feathers, played with them for but a moment, then spurned me away, condemning the life of one small filly to the hard earth below. I opened my eyes and saw the ground rushing towards me, a blur of gray mountain stone and muddy green hills widening in my descent. I fluttered my wings, twisted them every which way, but they were too small. They refused to catch the wind. All they did was sling and slam me into a dizzying and nauseating downward spiral. I screamed for Mommy. I flailed my limbs, I writhed and turned in desperation, trying to find some way to save myself. Cloudsdale was but a solid sheet of white cloud far above me. Why did I ever forsake it? I knew I was too young to fly! Then my back hit something hard, and I thought for a split second I had hit the ground. I whimpered briefly, but when I realized that I was still alive and not in pain from a several mile fall, I opened my eyes and looked underneath me. There was Cyclone, straining as hard as he could with all his young wings could muster, carrying me towards a nearby cumulus cloud. “Gods,” he was saying. “How much do you eat, fatty?” Just this once, I had no retort for him. I realized just how much he loved me, even if he would never say so. Cyclone began to step to the right, with Typhoon matching him hoof for hoof. She had never been a proud mare, unlike himself, but she was cold and collected. There was none of that now. The shell of concentration she was so excellent at building was cracked and broken. Her mind was racing—that much he could tell just by studying her face. She was a completely different mare now. She was dangerous and struggling to hold herself together. Just like her brother. I dropped my sword and turned away even as I stumbled backwards into the ditch. I rolled down the earthy embankment, head over tail, my heavy armor clattering around me all the while. The burning in my side only seemed to get worse with each jarring blow as I tumbled. Just when I thought I could take it no more, I slammed my back into the bottom of the ditch. I lay there, dizzy and breathless, clutching at the dagger stuck in my side. All around me, the sounds of war and death raged on. Skysteel sung and ponies died by the hoofful. I could see the black smoke from the fires choking the sky above me, and the red glows of the ashes and embers wafting across the field. On the ridge above, the Crystal barbarian that had struck me laughed and kicked my sword into the ditch after me. It fell, spinning end over end, before finally coming to a meek rest in the mud and blood filling this trench. I managed to find the strength to move my neck. All around me were the dead of Legate Thunder Hawk’s legion. Warlord Pyrite was putting up a stubborn resistance in the Middle Pass. His soldiers jumped Thunder Hawk’s vanguard as we entered the pass, and it was a slaughter. I could see the dead and dying faces of friends I had known all too briefly scattered around me. The young ones like me were calling for their mothers. The veterans were quieter, only asking for one thing: that they be buried in their homeland, that distant Empire my father had told me about so many times before bed. I looked around again. I decided the blood pouring from my side was an excellent match for my crimson coat. At least it wouldn’t stand out when they found me. I thought of my sister; I only hoped Typhoon would make it through this battle when the rest of the troops showed up. The barbarians were coming back now. The vanguard had been routed, and the Crystal Ponies had but a few minutes before the rest of the legion arrived. But they were savage brutes, and rather than concern themselves with taking defensive positions, they would have their fun. I watched as they galloped down into the ditch, weapons drawn against the wounded and helpless of Cirra. There was a blue pegasus next to me. Feather Fall, her name was. She was nice enough, with a soft voice and a tender heart to those she loved, but a magnificent warrior in the heat of battle. It was her dream to one day go back and see the lands of her parents, that tiny town known as Altus which was briefly the capital of the Empire before the Exodus. She was but a few days older than me, and we had trained together during camp. I had a crush on her, but I never admitted it, to either her or myself. I watched as a barbarian caved her skull in with a spiked war hammer so red you would think it was forged in blood. I would have screamed in rage and despair were I not so scared. The brute took his time removing the hammer from the shattered remains of her forehead, enjoying the sickly sounds her spattered brains made against his weapon. When he finally hoisted it, he let rivulets of blood pour off of the weapon onto Feather Fall’s corpse. Then he turned and looked at me. His eyes cruelly lit up, and he gingerly set the war hammer down by his side as if it were his foal. Reaching towards me, he hooked a hoof underneath the breastplate of my dented armor and hoisted me off of the ground with a single leg. My blood poured down my left side, dripping off of my hoof. “Another scrawny runt for the pyre, eh?” the barbarian taunted. He was a massive creature, with muscles that could lift buildings rippling underneath his crystalline coat. He had seen war and death, and had probably been responsible for much of it. He was at least forty, while I was barely sixteen. I wanted to beg him not to kill me. I wanted to plead for my life like a foal, just so I could die in peace. Please, oh please put me down and leave me here to bleed out. I’ll take the quiet death over having my ribs crushed beneath a few hundred pounds of iron any day. Instead I said nothing as I flailed my limbs at his face, trying to strike him and make him let me go. Instead he just held me further away from him, denying me my chance to hurt him in some way. “Pathetic,” he muttered to himself. “You Cirrans send your stallions to die so young. Well, I’ll be happy to oblige your Commander if that’s what he wants.” He threw me back against the side of the ditch. The dagger slammed against the dirt, driving the blade painfully deeper into my side. As my vision swam before my eyes, the brute lifted up his maul and eyed my throat. A sudden volley of arrows denied him his satisfaction. The barbarian choked out around the shafts pricking through his neck and his chest. He dropped the hammer and lurched to one side, collapsing uneasily against the dirt. His blood poured into the channel, joining the red river that was already there. Above, I heard the war cry of the rest of the legion as it flew into the pass to try for the second time today to drive Pyrite’s brutes out. I slouched back, smiling through my scowl, and waited for the cool kiss of death to finally take me. “Cyclone!” I jolted back from the darkness and looked around, tired. Dropping out of the air was a young mare, for all matters a filly, clad in armor one size too big for her. She sheared off several blond feathers as she struggled to slow her descent, ultimately clattering face-first into the bloody channel. But she stood up and shook it off, her eyes fixated on only one thing: me. “Ty…Typhoon?” I mumbled, delirium threatening my mind. I was sure I was seeing things as I lay there, dying. “Hang on, Cy, I’m gonna get you outta here,” she said, her voice even. Her eyes widened as she saw the blood pouring from my side, but other than a nervous gulp to swallow her nausea, she showed no reaction. “Right. We gotta stop this bleeding. Can you cauterize it?” I struggled to summon Empatha to my side. I got a few sparks but nothing else. Typhoon pursed her lips and began to dig through her saddlebag. “Looks like we’re gonna do this the old fashioned way,” she muttered, pulling several rags out. Tearing one into strips, she prepared a bandage and a wrap to hold it in. Then she looked at my side. “Erm, you might wanna clench your teeth.” I knew what was coming next. That didn’t mean I was prepared for it. The jagged dagger was ripped from my side, tearing through even more flesh on its exit. I barely managed to stifle a scream. My blood splattered against my sister’s face, and for a brief moment her eyes widened. But she wasn’t out of it long. She threw the dagger off to the side and quickly reached for the bandages by my wing. With perhaps a little unnecessary force, she stuck the bandage over my wound and tied it securely to my side. After a little longer to check that it was set, she crawled around me and picked my sword up out of the mud. Wiping it off on her own wing, she located the scabbard under my wing and slid it in. I could still hear the fighting and death around me. My comrades continued to stream in from overhead, assaulting the stone fortress Pyrite was holed up in. My view was blocked when Typhoon leaned over me and heaved, managing to lift me onto her back, armor and all. “You can’t fly like this!” I wheezed at her. She was wearing armor as well. Together she had to be trying to carry nearly three times her weight. But she either didn’t hear me or flat-out ignored me. She crawled out of the ditch with me sprawled across her shoulders. Then she jumped. I clenched my teeth as we plummeted. Typhoon was keeping her wings by her sides for some stupid reason. I tried to scream to her to slow down, but the wind shoved the words back down in my throat. The river below was approaching awfully fast. At the last second she opened her wings, and somehow we didn’t die. As we managed to coast on some thermals back to camp, Typhoon looked at me with a playful wink. “Gods,” she said, echoing words spoken long ago. “How much do you eat, fatty?” I realized I would have given my life for her. After all, I already owed it to her. The two siblings looked at each other longer as they continued their slow circle. There were tears in Typhoon’s eyes, and Cyclone was shaking and heaving. But they didn’t stop. They continued to circle each other, their weapons held high as ever. On some unspoken command, the two leapt at each other, without so much as a single sound. > Chapter 18: End in Fire > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 18: End in Fire Both Typhoon and Cyclone rebounded from their sword clash, their limbs shaking and their breathing heavy. They had mirrored each other’s actions all the way to the strike, and both had struck with so much force that they nearly lost their swords. Just from that one blow, Typhoon’s neck ached, and Cyclone roughly shook the tension out of his own muscles. Both were disappointed it didn’t end one way or another on the first strike. Now they had to continue trying to kill each other, ripping their own hearts in the process. Typhoon immediately began to aggressively press Cyclone. Opening her wings, she used them for a quick burst of speed to close the gap between her and her brother, windmilling her sword over her shoulder as she moved. Cyclone stood his ground, adjusting his stance so that his left wing was raised as a bladed shield over his head. When Typhoon’s sword came down, it became lodged in the scales on Cyclone’s wingblade. Cyclone attempted to counter with his own sword, but Typhoon managed to catch his on the very last scales on her wing crest; the last line of defense before it would have cleaved her neck in two. Cyclone attempted to hook his right wingblade at her exposed side, but Typhoon was faster. In an alarming display of brute strength, she heaved her body to the left. Between the wingblade and the sword that she had locked in her grasp, she managed to nearly flip Cyclone onto his side. Although taken by surprise, the red pegasus was fast enough to disengage and twirl out of the range of her weapons, where he took a split second to reorganize his attacks before charging her. Typhoon attempted to sidestep at the last second, but Cyclone had predicted it. With a sudden kick off of his left hooves, he rammed his shoulder into Typhoon’s chest while she was still moving. The mare flailed her wings and forelegs as she struggled to keep her balance on her hind legs, but Cyclone wouldn’t give her the time to situate herself. With a single stroke of his wings, he barreled straight at Typhoon, swinging his sword towards her exposed gut in the process. Seeing the attack coming, Typhoon desperately braced her forelegs and kicked her knees out. The bracers protecting her shins connected with the sword, halting its progress but causing her to grunt in pain. As Cyclone’s weapon rebounded, Typhoon dropped her weight towards him, swinging her sword at the opening near his shoulder blade. Twirling his own sword around in his mouth, Cyclone managed to barely catch Typhoon’s weapon and quickly slide out of the way of her momentum. He retaliated by attempting to take out her left foreleg with his wingblade. Twisting her wing to block the attack, Typhoon was able to meet the blades with her own, though not without cost to herself. Cyclone’s wingblade came in so fast and so hard that it nearly crumpled Typhoon’s wing as she tried to block. At the very least, she felt it pull on the ligaments holding the limb together, and for a split second it threatened to dislocate on her. Only a costly roll to her left side managed to ease the strain enough before any damage could be done. Unfortunately, that opened her up to the next set of Cyclone’s attacks. The would-be Emperor drove his sword straight downwards at Typhoon, which the mare only avoided by continuing her roll. She felt the scalding heat of Cyclone’s cumulostratus sword pass by her side, and she could smell burning feathers as it nicked the tail ends of her primaries on her left wing. As she transitioned out of her roll and ended up on all fours, she could see a seared line of blackness charred into the tiled floor of the throne room. With a sharp tug on his sword, Cyclone ripped the blade out of the ground and flicked several small globs of molten stone off of the metal. The skysteel was blisteringly white, and the very air around it rippled as the fire Empatha bled off of the sword. Typhoon was entranced by that blade. She had heard what ponies sounded like when Cyclone impaled them with that weapon. She hoped she would never experience why they sounded like they that. The Praetorian Guards behind her gave her a shove forward with their shields as she wandered too close to the edge of the ring they made around the room. She glanced over her shoulder in surprise for but a second, and Cyclone was already driving at her again. His strikes came in a flurry of blows, first his sword, then a wingblade, then his sword again immediately followed by a slash and counter from his other wingblade. The attacks came in like lightning, and his movements were a whirling blur. Any other pony would have broken under such a vicious onslaught, but not Typhoon. She was in her element now; the coolness of her adrenaline poured into her blood, slowing the world down until seconds dragged out like minutes. She was able to continue blocking and countering Cyclone’s attacks as they came in, even as the sparks they produced threatened to blind her as they showered over her face. Steepening her left wing, Typhoon caught one of Cyclone’s sword strikes under the scales and yanked him downwards. She lashed out at his neck with a wingblade, but Cyclone dropped far more readily than she had expected. Instead of splitting open his neck, it simply slid across his side, bringing forth blood but hardly the lethal fount she had been trying for. Cyclone grunted from the wound but used his downwards momentum to yank Typhoon’s left side towards the ground. The mare stumbled on her hooves, and Cyclone threw his entire weight onto the wing. He could feel the bone twisting and straining, but it was difficult to snap under the row of metal scales protecting it. Above him, Typhoon shrieked in pain, but even that scream was turned into a powerful strike with her sword. Cyclone managed to angle himself so that his armored back took the majority of the flat strike, but he could still feel the skysteel crumple slightly against his spine. A coldness gnawed on his senses, but it was quickly blasted away with the fire Empatha he carried in his blood. Releasing Typhoon’s wing, Cyclone rolled onto his right side and struck out with his hooves. He was able to take out Typhoon’s forelegs and send her face smacking into the ground. With a cough, she sputtered blood through her broken teeth while Cyclone pushed off with his wing and spiraled until he was on his four hooves facing her. He waited, watching Typhoon stand up. Blood was dribbling down her chin; she must have bit her tongue when she fell to the ground. Still, she securely fastened the sword in the bars of her jaw and began to advance, though more delicately this time. Cyclone forced down the Empatha haze threatening to cloud his judgment and backpedaled cautiously. He watched Typhoon as she advanced, slowly and teasingly testing one side or the other with a feint or a jab. He kept his grip on the sword on his teeth rather than on the bars of his jaws so he could quickly flick it from one side of his head to the other with his tongue, and his wings were fully extended on either side. He kept light on his hooves, ready to jump or sidestep at a moment’s notice. He saw the Praetorians nearby out of his peripheral vision, and he angled his movement to the left to step away from them. That was apparently what Typhoon was waiting for. With a sudden yell, she leapt directly at him, pummeling his left side with her hooves and armored shoulder. Cyclone grunted as the air was forced out of his lungs, and his eyes regained their focus just in time to see a sword slicing through the air towards his muzzle. With a quick puff of breath, Cyclone collapsed his forelegs, feeling the chill of Typhoon’s cirrostratus blade pass through his mane. As his sister struggled to reel in the weapon, Cyclone lurched to the side, knocking Typhoon off her hooves. The two tumbled across the ground before Typhoon managed to kick Cyclone off of her and launch him back several feet. Typhoon rolled onto her side and stood up just in time to receive a buck to her chin. Luckily it was only a glancing blow; otherwise, her jaw would have been shattered completely. It didn’t save her from the rest of Cyclone’s attacks, and she barely managed to dodge the lethal ones aimed for her throat. Her sword was a blur through the air, but still a clumsy blur as she struggled to respond. On one block she slipped, and was rewarded with a seared line that ran down her chin and across her neck before ending at her shoulder blade. With a powerful shove, she pushed Cyclone away and struck her sword at him, giving her space to retreat. She shuddered as she realized she had been less than an inch from death. As Cyclone came towards her again, Typhoon adopted an aggressive stance, with wings flared and sword held tightly in her jaws even as her head was curled downwards against her neck. When her brother was within range, Typhoon suddenly somersaulted towards him and kicked off with her hind legs. Cyclone was caught off guard, and even though he tried to adjust his sword to block her, she connected with his neck and tackled him. Brother and sister tumbled back, grappling and trying to strike with swords that were too close and wings locked together. Cyclone managed to shove Typhoon off of him, but the mare was just as quickly back at his side, striking away at him. Now Cyclone was furiously trying to defend himself. His wings ached with each sword slash he blocked, and his neck was full of knots and twists as he blocked and countered and parried Typhoon’s attacks. Yet still he could not manage to land a hit on her. She was simply too fast and too precise to give him the chance to make an opening. Cyclone could feel the heat building in his blade as the tension mounted, and he moved as fast as he could to try to make something happen. Something did happen. Cyclone sensed a small chink in Typhoon’s defense, and he hammered it with all his might. Deflecting her sword with the edge of his wingblade, Cyclone drove his sword at her left shoulder. The blade barely scraped past armor, but it was too shallow an angle. The tip of the blade came back red, but not much else. All he had done was scratch his sister rather than the wound he was hoping for. Typhoon’s response was brutal. She completely twisted her wing around and under Cyclone’s outstretched blade and tugged on it. It didn’t pull it free from her brother’s jaws, but it brought his head closer to hers. Lunging forward, she slammed her helmeted head against Cyclone’s exposed brow. His nose began to bleed and his eyes misaligned for a second as he struggled to clear the stars from his vision. Typhoon took the opportunity to draw a wingblade across his face. Blood spattered her armor and Cyclone shouted in pain. With a nick of his wingblade at Typhoon’s right leg, he was able to offset the mare’s balance and wheel away. The two took the time to collect their breath and look at each other instead of pressing an attack. Typhoon stopped breathing and simply stared at Cyclone’s face. Her brother glared at her for a moment longer before he realized what she was staring at. He could feel the blood trickling across his eye and down his muzzle. He knew what it was, and the irony was not lost on him. It was a scar, running from his brow, across his eye, and down his muzzle on the left side of his face. A perfect mirror to the scar Typhoon wore on the right side of hers. ----- Hurricane was sweating by the time he flew over River Rock’s walls and the smoking remains of its guard towers. The fires littering the countryside and the city itself were spewing so much smoke and ash into the air that it reminded him of the aftermath of the Feathertop eruption. The snow, what little there was left, had turned into rain, drenching Hurricane’s feathers and making it that much harder to get the sweat off of his neck. Given the alternative of the frigid cold, he was surprisingly content with this. River Rock, the pride of the unicorn race, jewel of the Diamond Kingdom, was ruined. Pegasi flew unchallenged across the city, with only the occasional burst of manafire or arrows diverting their attention long enough to dive down and eliminate the resisting unicorns. The upper crust of River Rock was smoldering in flames from pegasus firebombs, and the slums at the bottom of the valley had been flattened out. The smoke belching from the ancient stonework of the buildings around the castle was a testament to how little the Diamond Guard’s tradition and pride meant to it against legions. “Regiments! Landing zones, go, go, go!” Iron Rain shouted from behind Hurricane and Pan Sea. Her voice used the wind and fire and rain to its advantage, carrying her orders back rank by rank until the entire legion aligned in formation and split off, following their centurions as they dispersed throughout the city. “Legate, with me,” Hurricane ordered. “I need two regiments, one on the ground and one for air support. We’re going straight up the gut towards the castle, and we’ll try to rally what Diamond Guards we can along the way. We’re going to need their magic to drive out the Praetorian. Otherwise, the privates are going to be cut apart.” “Sir!” Rain responded before looking over her shoulder. Her eyes met Pathfinder’s, and the stallion groaned. “I haven’t drunk enough for a siege,” Finder muttered under his breath. Reluctantly, he fell in line behind his wife and stretched his wingblades, sighing as the rain worked its way between the scales and soaked his wing crests. Hurricane scanned the city around him, looking for a suitable place to land his soldiers. Smoke obscured the majority of the city, and the skies were dark and cloudy and difficult to navigate. Mane Street was always an option, but much too open for Hurricane’s liking. It would be too easy to be attacked from above, and enemies could easily hide in the burnt-out storefronts. A courtyard on a side street would make an excellent staging area; he just had to find one now. A sheet of gray smoke blocked his view, and Hurricane lowered his helmet against it and plowed through. Shaking his head and snorting loudly, Hurricane blinked away the burning in his eyes and squinted through his eyelashes ahead of him. He managed to focus on the world around him just as a hundred screeching pegasi slammed into his lines. The Legionnaires behind Hurricane were caught unawares with the smoke blocking their sight. The gray cloud was torn apart as dozens of pairs of wings ripped through it, streaking past Hurricane on either side. The brutal efficiency of wingblades cut many a soldier out of the sky, trailing blood in rough lines behind the attackers’ wings and dropping pegasi to the ground like equine meteors. After sustaining heavy casualties in the first seconds of combat, the two regiments rallied and began to beat back at the traitors. Two pegasi launched themselves at Hurricane. The air currents behind their wings carried the smoke and ash along with them, making their feathers seem ablaze with unholy fire. Their wingblades were aimed at his throat, and Hurricane had only mere seconds to respond. He responded by accelerating. Pumping his wings, he darted forward between the two traitors even as he lowered his head and deflected their wingblades with his shoulders. As the two pegasi passed behind him, Hurricane pulled off a sharp flip and turned to face them. The traitors cursed and wheeled around on their wings to come at him again. As they charged, a yellow blur dove through the sky and sheared the wing off of one traitor with a wingblade, sending the appendage spiraling through the air with its owner reaching for it, screaming as he fell. His companion veered off sharply to the left, but Hurricane intercepted him. Off-balance as the traitor was from the sudden death of his friend, Hurricane pressed him even further back with flyby attacks and slashes from his wings. The traitor twisted and brought his own blades to bear, but Hurricane decided to bypass them entirely. Diving low, he slashed a wing at one of the Legionnaire’s dangling forelegs, severing it completely. The traitor only had enough time to shriek in pain before Hurricane twisted and perforated his throat with several wingblade scales. The two regiments combined were enough to drive away the traitors, and Hurricane soon found Pan Sea by his side. “Good work,” he complimented, to which Pan Sea nodded. “We need to get to ground, fast.” “Sir,” Pan Sea acknowledged. “They did a number on our regiment, though. More attacks like this and we’ll be worn down to nothing before we even get to the castle gates.” “Right,” Hurricane affirmed. Turning to look at the soldiers behind him, he quickly located Legate Rain, her pearly white coat stained with crimson and a manic smile plastered across her face. “Casualties, Legate!” Iron Rain professionally wiped away the smile and made a quick estimate of the regiments’ strength. “We lost about seventy or eighty soldiers, Commander, but we’ve still got around a thousand left with us. If we keep taking hits like that, though, we’ll be broken before we even complete our objective.” Nodding, Hurricane turned his attention back towards looking for a landing zone to position his troops. Mane Street was clogged with blood and death; he’d take far too many casualties trying to land there before his regiments even got hooves on the ground. Most of the other side streets were too narrow to land troops in by more than one at a time, and several courtyards were either burning or piled with dead and dying bodies, taking up space. Looking to his left, Hurricane finally spotted a courtyard suitable enough for landing his regiments. Unfortunately, it was filled with arcane bolts as unicorns on both sides of the clearing exchanged fire with each other. There were a few pegasi to be seen as well, and they were in the faces of one side of unicorns, leading the slaughter. “Looks like the Diamond Guard has its own traitors!” Pathfinder shouted. “Would you look at that!” “Cyclone didn’t act alone,” Hurricane thought aloud. “Somepony else must have set this up with him… maybe this isn’t entirely his fault…” Pan Sea nudged Hurricane’s shoulder with a grim look on his face. “Maybe, Commander, but your son has gone too far to turn back now… you must do what you must.” Hurricane screwed up his face in thought, but quickly shook it away to focus on the task at hand. “We need to help the loyal unicorns, then. Clear out this courtyard of all traitors, pegasus and unicorn alike, and we have our staging area.” Iron Rain saluted and flew upwards to extend her voice. “Legionnaires, ready! We’re going to be landing under fire! The unicorns are fighting amongst themselves just as much as we fight brother against brother. Why don’t we help out our fellow soldiers?” A collective “Hooah!” answered her. Grinning, Iron Rain saluted to Hurricane and spiraled off to the left. Hurricane, Pan Sea, and Pathfinder watched the two blocks of regiments tilt and bank after her, descending into the courtyard. They spread out like molten silver poured into a bucket as they landed, their bright armors reflecting the sun and fires off of the skysteel as they rushed both the attacking pegasi and the traitors in the Diamond Guard. Legate Rain disappeared into the melee, leaving bodies in her wake. “Don’t you want to go with her, soldier?” Hurricane asked Pathfinder as they wheeled around the descending column of pegasi. Pathfinder’s eyes widened imperceptibly and he shook his head. “Believe me, sir, the last place I’d want to be is next to her on a battlefield.” “Why’s that?” asked Pan Sea. “She’s a Nimban mare, through and through.” “You poor soul,” Hurricane remarked as he began to descend. Despite the city having fallen two decades ago, the ponies of Nimbus still remembered its name in all its terrifying glory. There was no better soldier, no pony more thrilled by the glory of battle than a Nimban pegasus. Some would call it bloodlust, and others madness, but both describe outcasts of society, not the magnificent warriors they truly were. No, for the ponies of Nimbus, their thirst for blood and glory was the foundation of their very way of life. Clearing his thoughts and diving down, Hurricane gritted his teeth and flared his tired, aching wings to slow before hitting the ground. Though he managed to land without hurting his hooves, the force of the wind through his wings tore away several of his ragged black feathers. They fluttered down around him in the rain, blending into the soot and cinders. He glanced at one feather as he gathered his breath; it exploded into ash and heat as a bolt of mana went streaming past his nose, singeing a few hairs. Hurricane cursed and began to move, even as more bolts were directed towards him. He quickly drew his sword with such force that it scattered sparks into the air, casting a ghostly illumination across his face, and rushed the line of unicorns. They peppered him with arcane bolts of all colors, but Hurricane lowered his helmet and was surprised to not feel even the slightest burning of flesh. Instead, his armor began to ring. The bolts aimed for the Commander’s head and neck suddenly swerved away from his body and slammed into his armor, where they left a small glowing circle before fading away. Bewildered, the Diamond Guard traitors tried to ready more powerful bolts, but Hurricane was already upon them. His first swing cleaved a unicorn’s head from its shoulders. As the surrounding traitors backed up to draw their weapons, Hurricane spun around and bucked the body as it fell. The body left a trail of blood spurting from its neck as it sailed through the air before colliding with two unicorns and knocking them over. Using the momentum from the kick, Hurricane collapsed his forelegs and launched himself at a soldier across from him. He slammed his shoulder into the reeling unicorn, knocking them both to the ground. There was the whistling of a blade through the air behind him, and Hurricane rolled out of the tackle not a moment too soon. There was a small tinny sound as the flat of the blade deflected off of the tail of his armor, followed by a much more definitive crunch and a scream as it pierced through the chest of the unicorn he had clobbered. Blood spattered the unicorn who accidentally killed his friend, but Hurricane didn’t give him time to react. Twisting his sword from one side of his mouth to the other, Hurricane struck at the unicorn’s sword and knocked it away to the side. As the unicorn gasped and tried to recover his weapon, Hurricane twisted on his front hoof and drew his wingblade across the soldier’s throat. Crimson sprayed the ground, and by the time the corpse hit it, Hurricane had already killed two more soldiers. “Clear, clear! Fire!” Hurricane heard the distressed commands, and quickly grappled a nearby soldier. Drawing his hoof around the unicorn’s neck, he tightened his grip on the struggling unicorn and hoisted him up as cover. Pulling up sharply on the unicorn’s neck, Hurricane turned his hostage just as  numerous shots of arcane energy scattered around him. The unicorn held in his grip spasmed and coughed up blood, and Hurricane shoved the dying soldier directly into the firing line with a grunt. He immediately followed the body, charging into the midst of the unicorns and swinging all of his blades as fast as he could. The stickiness of blood soon coated Hurricane’s wings and glued his feathers together, but it had no effect on the onslaught he continued to deliver. Unicorns rushed him with swords raised or tried to barrage him with magic, but the Commander was simply too fast to hit. Ducking in and out of attacks, he slid underneath clumsy blows and spilt the intestines of several opponents as he passed. As Hurricane spun out of one attack, a powerful discharge of mana struck him in the gut and propelled him twenty feet backwards. He ended up against a wall with smashed crates and rotting cabbage heads scattered around him. “Not the bucking ringing,” Hurricane cursed as he scrambled out of the remains of some poor merchant’s stall. He looked upwards at the bottom edge of his helmet and scowled as the void crystals continued to resonate. “I hate the Gods-damned ringing!” His anger at a mild annoyance propelled his limbs with a vicious and powerful fury. The Commander dove into the ranks of the unicorns and laid blows around him. A quick upwards slice from his gladius through a Diamond Guard’s neck was followed by a twisting slash from a wingblade that snapped a unicorn’s horn straight off, showering the side of the building in iridescent sparks and screaming. Raising his other wing, Hurricane blocked a sword stroke and countered by wrenching the weapon aside and skewering the soldier with the Gladius Procellarum. There was a pop of light, causing the unicorn to scream, and as Hurricane withdrew the sword it released a fiery boom of frigid lightning that dropped the soldier dead. By now, the rest of the unicorns had scattered away from Hurricane’s reach, terror beginning to fill their eyes and eat away at their hearts. All the pegasus had to do was leer in a direction and the soldiers would scurry backwards, frightened. Nopony dared fire on him for fear that the Commander would survive and come after them next. Instead they watched, their eyes fixated on them even as their nervous sweats froze into frost around their ears and across their brows. They didn’t see the rest of the legion coming. Dozens of pegasi dove out of the skies and into the group of unicorns, scattering them and their limbs in various directions. Blood and death filled the square, and Hurricane sheathed his sword as the soldiers around him cleaned up. Pan Sea, Pathfinder, and Iron Rain all took up positions around him and left carnage in their wake, only worsening the massacre. By the end of it all, Iron Rain was no longer identifiable as a white mare, and both Pathfinder and Pan Sea were eyeing her warily. Across the street, the loyal Diamond Guards were organizing themselves with assistance from some of Rain’s centurions. “Was that all of them? Don’t tell me that was all of them!” Rain shouted. Sheathing her huge sword, she flung several droplets of blood from her mane with a shake of her head. The scarlet pattered against Pan Sea’s and Pathfinder’s faces, who glanced worriedly at each other. “Easy, Legate,” Hurricane warned. Leaving her behind, he trotted across the street. Walking up to a cluster of unicorns, he waved a wing at them. “Who’re you?” they responded, gruff and tired from hours of fighting. “Reinforcements,” Hurricane answered just as curtly. “For us or for them?” Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “I just killed off your assailants, including several treacherous Cirrans, pulling your asses from the fire in the process, and you still have the gall to ask that question?” The soldiers stared at him blankly, panting and shuffling their hooves in the meanwhile. “Commander!” a different, familiar voice called out to him. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Shame we had to meet again on such awful terms.” Hurricane looked over to see a blue unicorn clad in officer’s armor approach him, his face ragged with blood and soot from all the fighting and his horn smoking lightly. “Chiseled Gem? You’re still around?” “Living, fighting, killing, not much has changed,” the unicorn said as he saluted to Hurricane. “Once again, you’ve shown up just in the nick of time. Come.” Hurricane followed without question, staying close by the Diamond Guard’s side as he walked towards Mane Street. Approaching the corner of the building, he cautiously leaned out before walking into the street, beckoning for Hurricane to follow. “There,” he said, pointing with a hoof at the distant castle obscured by smoke and fire. “Cirrans landed there a few hours ago. Cut through anything and everything we put up against them. Of course, it didn’t help that half of the Celestis-damned Guard suddenly shot us in the back as soon as they arrived.” He sighed, and years of stress piled onto his aching shoulders. “The loyal Guards scattered. I’ve been trying to put together whatever regiments I can, but we’re getting ambushed and firebombed every other second. I’m trying to fight my way to the castle, but I can’t pull in the numbers to break through that.” “I’ve got a thousand with me, and several thousand more throughout the city,” Hurricane said. “We’re trying to get to the castle too. My son is there.” “I didn’t know that there were any Cirran garrisons left in River Rock.” “There aren’t,” Hurricane answered. Chiseled Gem mouthed a silent ‘oh’ and bit down on his lip. “If we can rally a few thousand more Diamond Guards, I’d say we can make a run on the castle.” “I’ll need your magic to cut through the Praetorians.” “Everypony knows the Diamond Guard isn’t cut out for that sort of work, even the Diamond Guard itself.” “That’s why I’m leading the way. Your magic will make up for what I’m lacking in numbers.” “Right.” The two ponies regarded the burning castle for a little bit longer before Chiseled Gem turned to Hurricane. “Reminds you of the siege twelve years ago, eh?” “No, it doesn’t. The castle wasn’t on fire then.” “Details. We’ll put out the flames soon enough.” ----- “Rraugh!” Typhoon grunted as she ducked under Cyclone’s sword and rolled out behind him. Bounding out of the move, she struck her own blade at her brother’s exposed flanks, but the stallion twisted to the side and dodged it by a few hairs. Carrying the momentum across his left side, Cyclone slammed his sword hard into Typhoon’s shoulder armor, shoving her backwards. Taking a few steps to recover her balance, Typhoon carried her stumble into a brisk canter to wheel herself back around towards Cyclone. Gritting her chipped teeth and split lips around the hilt of her sword, she swung it furiously at Cyclone’s neck and shoulders. Her brother angled his head to the side and blocked the sword with his own, recoiling ever so slightly with each successive strike.  With a few steps backwards, Cyclone put some distance between himself and Typhoon, and braced himself for her next attack. An impressive ring of steel filled the room as the two blades met, and both pegasi were left leering into each other’s faces as they pressed their locked swords against one another with all the strength they could muster. Blood and sweat, snow and ash, determination and sorrow stood out clear as day on their faces as they locked eyes. The muscles in Cyclone’s neck rippled with exertion, and Typhoon drew back her lips in a snarl as she struggled to push back against her older and stronger brother. With a muffled shout, Cyclone began to move Typhoon’s sword back. The mare’s hooves slid against the tiled ground as she struggled to press back. Her eyes lit up with dismay as she felt herself losing ground, and she tried to disengage from the clash. Cyclone pressed her through all of her movements, however, and with a powerful twist of his neck he raised Typhoon’s sword into the air and slammed it back against the ground on her other side, driving his sister’s face into the tile. Typhoon shouted in pain and struggled to slither away as dizziness clouded her mind. Glancing upwards at Cyclone, she barely had enough time to respond to the wingblade he was driving towards her neck. Raising her own wing, she locked the scales of the blade with her brother’s and pushed back enough to stop him. Cyclone’s wing flared up with fire Empatha, however, and he shoved her wing to the side with a fiery stroke of force and ash. Typhoon felt her shoulder drag across the ground, even as Cyclone carried his momentum into turning around and kicking his hind legs out at her. His hooves made solid contact with Typhoon’s face and launched the mare backwards. After flopping on the ground a few times, Typhoon came to a rest near the outer edge of the circle and moaned. She didn’t linger long on the pain, however, and exhaustedly struggled to her hooves. When she stood, a searing flash of pain burnt the back of her eyes, and she doubled over, teeth clenched. Squeezing her eyes shut, Typhoon managed to force the pain down and coughed, spattering blood from her face and mouth onto the tile in front of her. Cyclone watched her from a distance, his own breathing quick and ragged. His body ached, but he wouldn’t give in to the pain yet. His endurance was much greater than his little sister’s, and he could tell she was wearing out. A few more strikes and he would be able to break her. Then it would all be over. He wasn’t sure how to feel about his thoughts. Reaffixing her grip on her sword, Typhoon held the weapon firmly between her teeth and began to charge at Cyclone. Her vision narrowed until he was the only thing that she saw, and she watched all his movements with intense scrutiny as she approached. Cyclone braced himself for the charge, spreading out his legs and lowering his shoulders against it. His skysteel sword glowed white hot in anticipation, and the air around him rippled from the heat pouring off of the weapon. The sweat on his face burnt off as the warmth evaporated it. Even the Praetorians standing near Cyclone backed off as the heat threatened to roast them inside their armor. Typhoon’s limbs moved with rhythmic certainty, her four hooves clopping a regular pattern across the tile as she galloped towards Cyclone. Thirty feet, twenty-five, twenty, she closed the gap to him. Both siblings locked eyes and prepared for the strike to come. But it wasn’t the strike Cyclone was prepared for. With a small hop barely ten feet away from her brother, Typhoon elevated ever so slightly into the air, drawing Cyclone’s blade upwards. Then, with a quick upstroke of her wings, Typhoon flattened herself against the floor and slid under his defenses, slamming her wingblades across her brother’s legs as she passed by. Cyclone shifted his forelegs ever so slightly and managed to catch his sister’s wings on the bracers guarding his shins, but the force of her charge still knocked his legs out from under him. There was a clatter of metal and a sharp pain in Cyclone’s limbs, and as he fell onto the ground a bracer was torn free from his right leg, the crumpled skysteel rolling off to the side of his vision. Arching his back, Cyclone flipped onto his hooves just as Typhoon rolled onto hers. This time Cyclone advanced, putting all of his energy into his sword. Typhoon pivoted her own blade to block it, and the two metals hissed as fire and ice Empatha met along the edges of their weapons. Instead of locking swords like earlier, however, Cyclone pulled back on his and swung it again. Typhoon’s neck shuddered as the blow travelled along her sword and down her spine, and she shifted her hooves for better balance. Again Cyclone pulled back, and again he drove his sword down against her. This time, he hit Typhoon’s weapon so hard that he knocked it from her grasp, causing her to spray blood and spittle from between her teeth as the weapon left. Wheeling back on the strike, Cyclone spun a wingblade towards Typhoon’s throat, which the mare was able to block on the rim of her breastplate’s collar. Pushing harder, Cyclone lodged the scales of his wingblade underneath Typhoon’s shoulder piece and pulled sharply upwards. Typhoon shouted as she felt her hooves leave the ground and the razor sharp scales of Cyclone’s wingblade brush against her neck. With a roaring yell, Cyclone tugged his wingblade free of Typhoon’s shoulder, tearing off the steel plate protecting it and flipping the mare onto her back. Typhoon grunted as she hit the ground and the air was forced out of her lungs, but quickly rolled to the side as Cyclone dropped his sword towards her. Almost bashing her already broken nose against the ground, Typhoon grabbed her sword and swung it blindly upwards out of the roll towards her brother. The steel somehow hit true on Cyclone’s breastplate, and with such force that it split the armor into two crumpled pieces hanging from his back by little more than leather straps. Cursing, Cyclone twisted on of his wings back and snapped the leather holding the rear half of his breastplate in place, letting the shattered armor drop to the ground like a split carapace. The front of his armor still clung tightly to his coat, even if the onyx stone and skysteel was cracked and crumpled. The golden lightning bolt emblazoned across his chest was folded in two from one of Typhoon’s blows, distorting the reflection of the approaching mare as she swung again at her brother. The two swords met with incredible force, producing a hiss of steam as fire and ice combined. Both ponies drew back from the block, and both attacked at the same time, meeting at a different angle. Flaring his wings, Cyclone feinted low then high before finally driving his sword at Typhoon’s chest. The mare quickly responded to both feints but left herself open to the attack, and screamed as she felt the blade rip through her armor and slide under her coat, searing the flesh the entire way through. With a desperate strike, she flicked a wing at Cyclone’s neck, drawing a sharp line of blood against his throat but failing to slice deep enough to kill him. The stallion shouted and coughed, allowing Typhoon to head-butt her helmet against his nose and send him reeling back, a hoof to his face. Typhoon responded by lowering her sword and pressing a hoof to her wounded side. The right side of her armor was shattered and melted, and a cut about two inches deep just underneath her wing and shoulder ran through her flesh. She hissed to herself as she could see the charred flesh surrounding the face of a barely exposed rib that had deflected Cyclone’s sword from cutting into her organs. Still, every twist of her body to the right side left her in a staggering amount of pain. Closing her eyes, Typhoon clenched her teeth as she summoned her Empatha to the wound, letting the ice numb her nerves and take the edge off of the pain. As long as she couldn’t feel the pain, it wouldn’t slow her down much. Or, so she hoped. It would have to do, because Cyclone was advancing again, this time with fire in his eyes and crackling out of his mane from underneath his helmet. With flaming wings and steel, he beleaguered Typhoon with strikes, forcing the mare to quickly yet gingerly respond to each one to avoid getting hit or burned. Deflecting blows to her center and left, Typhoon nearly failed to stop one from cutting through her right side. Only with a great amount of difficulty did the mare manage to raise a wing with the torn muscles on her right and block Cyclone’s sword. An idea hit Typhoon, and seeing her brother prepare for his next attack, she collapsed to the right side. Cyclone adjusted his stance accordingly, and prepared to swing his sword down on Typhoon’s exposed left flank. Just as he began to move, however, Typhoon quickly sprung around and delivered a buck to Cyclone’s jaw. The blow knocked the sword from his teeth and sprayed blood out of his mouth, along with an errant tooth. As he staggered backwards, Typhoon stood up, gritting her teeth through the pain, and swung the sword she held tightly in her jaws against Cyclone. The stallion raised his wing to catch the blade, but he positioned it at too sharp of an angle. When Typhoon’s blade met the first scale, it was with such force that it ripped it off and kept going. Four scales on the wingblade were torn from the assembly, and the sword became lodged in the fifth. Snarling around the hilt of the sword, Typhoon pulled back, putting all her weight behind her. Cyclone stumbled forward as the sword dragged the locked wingblade along with it, struggling to free his wing. He finally did with a shout of pain as the blade assembly was torn off of the crest, twisting his wing in an unnatural angle. There was a wet pop, and the stallion screamed as his wing dropped loosely by his side, the crest pointing backwards and the primary feathers brushing limp against the ground. A sheen of sweat covered his face, and Cyclone quickly hopped backwards out of Typhoon’s reached and retrieved his sword. His wing lagged behind him as he went, and every sudden motion drove a knife of pain into the stallion’s face. Despite this, he still held his sword and one good wing out and ready. This time, both siblings advanced together. Their strikes were slower now—paced and measured through the pain hindering their movements—but the clash of steel was just as powerful as before. Cyclone struck out at Typhoon, first high, then low, and twice on the right. Typhoon blocked each strike and rotated out of the last one to slash at Cyclone’s left. The sword caught his armor, further crumpling it, and she moved to press Cyclone farther back. The stallion led her until he was able to hook his sword under hers and parry her strike away, leaving an opening for his one good wing to attack. When it did, he punched it into Typhoon’s chest three times, each one pounding the steel further until it left a crumpled gash in the mare’s side, making it difficult to breathe. Following that up, Cyclone ducked under a slash from Typhoon and slammed his sword into his sister’s helmet. Typhoon shouted as the sword burned off part of her ear before lodging in her helmet. Pulling on his sword, Cyclone ripped the helm off of Typhoon’s head and pushed her backwards. Typhoon fell back long enough to coil her legs underneath her and propel herself towards her brother. Slamming a wingblade into his skull, she flipped Cyclone onto his back and sent his helmet flying into the stained glass lining the hall, where it became caught halfway through the lead and colored window. Luckily for Cyclone, he was able to twist his body so that he didn’t fall on his dislocated wing, but even still he grunted as it flapped loosely against his side. Scrambling around, both ponies stood up and faced each other. They each panted several times, their breathing pained and ragged. Both swayed where they stood and were unsteady on their hooves as they slowly walked towards each other. Without blinking, that walk turned into a canter, and from a canter, a full gallop. Brother and sister eyed each other’s necks while watching where their opponent’s swords were angled. Little more than ten feet from each other, both ponies swung their swords with everything they had. Fire and ice collided in the center, spewing steam and tiny shards of shattered skysteel into the crowd of Praetorians surrounding them. ----- Commander Hurricane and Captain Chiseled Gem trotted out into one of River Rock’s main thoroughfares leading straight to Castle Burning Hearth. Behind them were Hurricane’s thousand soldiers from his regiments, with the surviving hundred or so Diamond Guards sticking by Chiseled Gem’s side. Together they marched down the streets, fearless to the fire and death raging through the city around them. Behind Hurricane, the trio of Legate Iron Rain, Centurion Pathfinder, and Private Pan Sea marched in a line. Both Pan Sea and Pathfinder had their swords sheathed for now, but Iron Rain still held hers in her mouth, letting the flat of the massive griffon zweihander rest across her armored back. Pathfinder had assured Hurricane some time ago that there was a story behind it, but he’d save that for a late night of drinking once this was all over. Ahead of the liberators, Castle Burning Hearth stood in all of its tragic glory. Smoke billowed forth from shattered windows, and several burning flags fluttered in the bloody wind circulating throughout the city. The armored forms of pegasi clashed high above, cutting into each other with wingblades in terrible aerial combat. Broken, bloody, and mangled bodies lay draped across rooftops or impaled on flagpoles from where they fell from the sky, and the snow had been speckled with scarlet splatters of pony. Here or there was a wing, and some soldiers slowly turned and moaned on the ground as their vitality poured out of mortal wounds through their stomachs. Hurricane and Chiseled Gem ignored them in the interest of time. As the army approached an area riddled with scorch marks from manafire, Hurricane held out his wings and nodded to Chiseled Gem. The unicorn nodded back in understanding, and began to trot ahead of the army, bringing the rest of his loyal Diamond Guards with him. As he walked into the middle of the street, Hurricane could see shadowy movements in the buildings around him. “Honorable soldiers of the Diamond Guard!” the Captain called out to the buildings. His legs stood stock-straight and authoritative, and his eyes intently shifted from window to window. “This is Captain Chiseled Gem of the Diamond Guard, 4th Brigade! We fight to beat back the treacherous bastards from both Cirra and within our own ranks who strive to kill the King! We’ve got loyal reinforcements from Commander Hurricane, and they’re advancing on the castle as we speak! So, who dares fight for King Lapis this day?!” There was silence at first, and Hurricane glanced from building to building. These soldiers might very well be allied with Cyclone, and if so, they’d cut Chiseled Gem to ribbons and remove his magic support from taking on the Praetorian Guard. He couldn’t let that happen. Feeling the eyes of unicorns hidden in the shadows watching him, Hurricane slowly unfurled his wings. “Swords…” he droned cautiously over his shoulder without taking his eyes away from the buildings. He could hear the hiss of oiled steel sliding through scabbards from behind him, and he leaned forward to place his teeth around his own sword. Just then, a shout echoed down from the third floor of one of the buildings. It was difficult to hear at first, but it was soon joined by a chorus of others. “Long life to the King! Long live King Lapis!” Chiseled Gem smiled and released a tense sigh as unicorns began to trot out of the buildings around him. Most were dirty and covered in sweat and grime, exhausted from fighting the traitors for so long and having gone into hiding to avoid the lethal dive-bombs of the pegasi up above. Seeing reinforcements, however, their eyes lit up with determination, and they soon slid into formation around Chiseled Gem. Now over two hundred strong, Chiseled Gem turned back to Hurricane and nodded. Returning the nod, Hurricane stood up on his hind legs and bellowed out across the street, “All soldiers, advance!!” Shouting answered him, and Hurricane began to trot down the street with all his soldiers in formation behind him. Ahead, the unicorns advanced, calling out cries of ‘Long live the King!’ and other patriotic phrases as they passed. Loyal unicorns began to pour out from their shelters and join with Chiseled Gem’s ranks, bolstering the army as they got closer and closer to the castle. Abrupt manafire broke out from several buildings as the army advanced, forcing the ponies to scatter, but it was little more than a few seconds of inconvenience. As soon as the windows lit up with arcane energy, several pegasi firebombers from above slammed their payloads into the facades of the buildings. The explosions were deafening and the screams piercing, but Hurricane and his army advanced through the fire and flames as the dead traitors fell out of their hideouts. Their screaming echoed through the streets as they swatted at the fire roasting their flesh before their spines crunched against the horribly hard ground, ending their pain forever. “Double time!” Hurricane shouted. Lowering his head into the charge, Hurricane galloped nearly recklessly towards the rubble-strewn and smoke-filled town square. Ahead of him, the unicorns of Chiseled Gem’s picked up their pace, struggling to stay ahead of the faster pegasi and provide them room to advance. Hurricane had to reign in his advance slightly when he closed to within ten feet of the unicorns in front of him, and after a few quick steps to pace himself, unfurled his wings and took to the skies. Behind him, the rest of the army followed, and soon the shadow of Cirra’s might passed over the Diamond Guards on the ground. After having leapfrogged Chiseled Gem’s company, Hurricane extended his forelegs and touched down on the ground, immediately breaking into a full gallop and launching himself at the nearest enemy soldier he could see. It was a pegasus with a red smear of paint across her helmet, and she barely had time to turn and draw her sword before Hurricane was on her. Raising her weapon, the lavender pegasus managed to block one of Hurricane’s strikes, but the force still sent her reeling backwards. Struggling to balance herself, the mare gritted her teeth and lunged forward at Hurricane. Angling his wings, Hurricane rolled to the side and disarmed her with a quick stroke of his bladed wing before landing on his forehooves along her side. His rear legs didn’t even touch the ground; instead, they coiled and kicked out with amazing speed, connecting solidly with the mare’s cheek and shattering her jaw. Her helmet popped into the air, catching the light of the fires of hell before it clattered against the ground. The mare stumbled backwards, tripping over her hooves and falling onto her side, too dizzy to stand up. Hurricane turned and advanced towards her, sword drawn, and she trembled in fear. “Pleash!” she shouted through broken teeth and fragments of bone. “Pleash, mershy!” “May Mobius show you the mercy you ask for,” Hurricane darkly spoke, “for I have none for you.” Pleading, the mare raised a hoof towards Hurricane, but the Commander only swatted it aside and plunged his sword into the mare’s neck, withdrawing it crimson. There was a sputter of breath and then nothing as the traitor’s life ended there. Hurricane spared her no thought; she had betrayed the Legion, and as such she had deserved no quarter. Looking onwards to the Castle, Hurricane saw three traitors advance on him, supported on either side by a unicorn. Lowering his helmet, Hurricane rushed forward to meet them, swinging his sword over his head and rotating his shoulders for momentum as they clashed. The pegasus in the middle blocked the attack, and retaliated with a wingblade towards Hurricane’s side. The Commander caught it with his own, and quickly transitioned out of the attack to bring his sword down on the traitor’s crest. There was a satisfying clang of metal and crunch of bone, and the pegasus screamed as his wing fell loosely to his side, half of it barely hanging on with little more than skin and muscle to hold it together. Before Hurricane could finish off the traitor, the two pegasi at his sides attacked. Quickly retracting his wingblade, Hurricane sidestepped away from the soldier on his left and raised a wing to deflect an attack from the soldier on his right. Catching both that traitor’s sword and wing, Hurricane threw them to the side and flicked his sword around so the point was to his right. As Cyclone’s soldier tried to respond to Hurricane’s counter, the Commander drove the length of his sword through his neck, stopping only when his cheek touched the pony’s coat and blood sprayed across his muzzle. Ripping out his sword, Hurricane then moved to the next pegasus. The soldier on his left was ready, and ducked under Hurricane’s wide sword swing to deliver a jab to his gut. Hurricane raised up onto his hind legs to avoid the blow, and then began to slash with one wing after the other at the retreating pegasus. The traitor blocked and sidestepped and ducked away from Hurricane’s onslaught until out of the corner of his eye, the Commander saw the wounded pegasus from before limping away. He looked past him towards the two unicorns beginning to fire their bolts of mana in his direction. Breaking off from the advance, Hurricane angled himself so that his magic armor would absorb the blast before it could hit his unprotected wings or neck. True enough, the bolts swerved and slammed into the void crystal plating of his armor, making dull glows before fading away. The unicorns stepped back a bit in shock, but soon furrowed their brows in another attempt. This time they produced no bolts of mana, but their horns still lit up. Hurricane looked around quickly to see what they were focusing on before happening to glance down and see the ground underneath his hooves glowing. “Shit,” he cursed to himself. With a grunt, he flared his wings and pushed out ahead of him, feeling the air launch him backwards and out of the way. No sooner had he flopped onto his back did the ground he was standing on split in half and rise to meet itself, both halves slamming into each other right where he would have been. “This is why I hate unicorn magic,” he grumbled as he stood up and retrieved his sword. “Let’s see how you do in a real fight!” He tried advancing against the unicorns, but they quickly responded in throwing up their own defenses by making pillars of earth erupt between them and the pegasus. Hurricane was stretching his wings to fly over the wall when it suddenly exploded outwards as a shockwave of Arcana blew through it. Absolutely pelted with stones, Hurricane threw up a wing to shield himself as he felt them clatter against his helmet and armor. When he lowered it, he could see the unicorns preparing to unleash another spell. They didn’t have the chance. Swooping down from the sky, Private Pan Sea landed between the two of them and began to attack, his sword moving faster than Hurricane had ever seen it move and his wings flurrying about him in a storm. The two unicorns broke off, though Pan Sea dogged one and quickly put his sword through his neck after a few feints with his wings to throw off the traitor’s defenses. With a flutter of his wings, the Private spun around and launched himself at the other unicorn before he could summon a spell to use against him. Turning away from that finished fight, Hurricane located his adversary he was pursuing before the unicorns interfered. The pegasus was in the air and diving towards Hurricane, his gladius held to the side to cleave through the Commander’s neck. Raising onto his hind legs, Hurricane blocked the pegasus’ dive-bomb strike and flung the traitor to the ground, even with the added momentum he had gained from his aerial attack. As the traitor rolled away, Hurricane beat his sword after him, tearing up chunks of ground in bursts of thunder and lightning. When the pegasus had barely scrambled to his hooves, Hurricane quickly took them out from underneath him and planted his sword deep between the traitor’s ribs, letting the skysteel of his weapon simultaneously burn and freeze his lungs and heart on the way in. The traitor spasmed once, his eyes wide and glassy as he coughed blood into the air before rolling back and falling limp. With a few shakes, Hurricane managed to free his sword from the corpse and look around. “Commander!” Hurricane’s ears flicked backwards and he looked over his shoulder just fast enough to see a sword slicing towards his neck. He flinched and tried to raise a wing to catch the sword while dropping his opposite shoulder. The blade passed over his wing by little more than two inches and slammed into the collar of his breastplate as he rolled to the side. The soft metal lining the collar slowed the blade enough that when it did strike against his neck, it did little more than leave a flesh wound and knock the Commander backwards. Collapsing onto his side, Hurricane slid across the crimson ice with his wings flared to try and slow himself down. He soon spun onto his back, and stopped with his exposed chest open to a pegasus’ sword. Swinging the weapon downwards, the traitor attempted to gut Hurricane, but the black stallion responded by rolling to his right and using his left wingblade to catch the sword. Without the leverage to use his strength, Hurricane struggled to keep the blade at a standstill with his wing, while the traitor pressed both hooves down on the sword and began to inch it closer to the Commander’s neck. Sweating, Hurricane managed to press one hoof against the edge of the sword and once again bring the duel to a stalemate. Sweat beaded on his forehead; his opponent had the advantage in weight and leverage, while Hurricane only had his strength to go on. Flailing his hind legs, he tried to kick the traitor in the groin, but the stallion deftly stepped past Hurricane’s range and adjusted his leverage to put even more weight behind the sword. It began to march closer to Hurricane’s neck yet again, and the Commander’s shoulder burned as even more stress was put on his wing. The stallion smiled victoriously at Hurricane as he overpowered the commander of the Legion by himself. There was a feral scream behind the traitor’s back, and suddenly a massive zweihander cleaved through the left side of his neck and out the right, leaving the head to flop onto Hurricane’s chest. Red poured across his body, and with a heave of his hooves Hurricane pushed the body off to the side. In its place was Iron Rain, with blood dripping in rivulets from her Gryphon zweihander along both the blade and the counterweight at the base of the hilt to keep the weapon balanced. Her coat was decorated in scarlet, and there were only a few spots on her coat that were still their original white. A wild and terrifying joy was printed across the mare’s face, and Hurricane had no doubt that she’d fix up those spots on her coat in no time. “Come on, sir, now’s no time for a nap!” Iron Rain screeched as she hauled Hurricane to his hooves. She pointed to the castle, which was fewer than a hundred yards away. “It’s now or never, and they’ve got reinforcements pouring in from all across the city! We have to end this now.” Around him, Hurricane heard panting as Pan Sea and Pathfinder, both exhausted and covered in blood, trotted up next to him. The four pegasi stood there, looking out amidst the carnage around them, and the fires clinging to the tattered tapestries fluttering in the blaze of war. The stench of blood hung heavy in the air like a smothering blanket, and the screams of war deafened them to everything else. A thick cluster of traitors, both unicorns and pegasi alike, spotted them, and began to shout to each other as they organized and charged. Nodding towards his companions, Hurricane raised his wings and galloped into the fray. By his sides, he could hear the hoofsteps of the other three against the snow and ice. To his right, Iron Rain edged out ahead of him, while Pan Sea and Pathfinder dropped back slightly into support positions. With a clash of steel, Hurricane’s wedge punched through the traitors’ line. Spreading and twisting his wings, the Commander deflected errant stabs from two traitors at his sides and parried a third’s slice with his own sword before wheeling around on his front hooves and bucking him in the chest. Four pegasi closed around Hurricane then, each with their swords drawn, and began to swing them at the Commander. Flattening himself against the ground, Hurricane felt two whistle past his ears before raising his right wing and catching a third on the center of the wingblade. Pushing back, Hurricane had just enough time to skirt to the side and let the fourth pegasus bury his sword in the muck. Driving hard with his right wing, Hurricane disengaged from the soldier he had blocked and sidestepped left to stomp his hoof down on the sword embedded in the ground. The Legionnaire hissed and slashed a wingblade at Hurricane, which the Commander deftly dodged before impaling the traitor’s neck on the scales of his own bladed wing. Dropping to his right, Hurricane barely ducked beneath another sword and pulled sharply upwards with his left wing. The corpse still lodged on the scales went with it, and with a shout of exertion the Commander flipped the body across his back and slammed it on top of the pegasus to his right before he could attack again. That soldier grunted and collapsed under the weight of body and steel, letting Hurricane focus his attention on the two remaining soldiers around him. The pegasi cautiously kept their distance and spread to opposite sides of Hurricane, to which he responded by opening his wings and keeping a tip pointed at each of them. Darting forward, they attempted to unbalance him, but Hurricane swiftly stepped back and blocked their attacks with his wings, forcing them in front of him. Pressing their advance, the two privates utilized all their blades, jabbing with wingblades and slicing with their swords at Hurricane’s defenses. The Commander meanwhile sidestepped and backpedaled under the assault until he could find an attack of opportunity. Opportunity soon came, and Hurricane shot underneath an overstretched attack to disarm one of the soldiers with a swift blow to the throat. As the Legionnaire coughed and stepped back, Hurricane whipped around and bucked the other soldier’s snout as hard as he could. There was a definitive cracking of cartilage followed by a sputter of blood and bone, and the traitor fell to the ground, unmoving. Hurricane set about to press the swordless soldier, but he saw a blade chop through the traitor’s helmet and skull from above, dividing his eyes and muzzle to opposite halves before the sword came to a stop halfway down his neck. With a scream of intense rage, Iron Rain viciously bucked the body off of her sword, letting blood and gray matter paint the snow around her. “That one was mine!” Hurricane shouted as he scanned for more targets. “Be faster next time!” Rain called back before spinning around to cleave an unfortunate stallion’s leg off. Bodies enveloped her again as the traitors tried to take her down, but the Legate only swung her weapons wildly, severing limbs and filling the air with red mist and screaming. Checking once more that he was not in immediate danger, Hurricane halted to take stock of the battle. The Diamond Guard and his loyal soldiers had fought their way into the plaza and were almost at the castle gates, driving out most of the traitors in the area. More, however, poured in from the skies and the side streets, pressing back and threatening to cut off their rear and crush their flanks. Hurricane could see the centurions and captains running back and forth to organize their regiments, but to little avail. The plaza was already chaotic enough to begin with; now, it had devolved into a bloody free-for-all. Looking forward, Hurricane tried to spot his companions amongst the mess. In the thickest of the fighting was Iron Rain, moving with deadly grace and precision, striking down foes left and right and leaving untold bodies in her wake. Behind her, Pan Sea and Pathfinder worked together to bait their targets out and strike them down with quick blows. Together, the two soldiers had put down five traitors without much fighting, and soon enough companies of unicorns and pegasi arrived by their sides to protect their flanks. Spotting Chiseled Gem, Hurricane galloped over to his side. “Captain,” he greeted before diving straight into business. “I need your soldiers, now! We’re at the steps of the castle, we just need one final push to break through!” Chiseled Gem saluted and turned to his soldiers. “Sapphire company, forward! Pry open those doors and bring us some Praetorian heads! Emerald company, keep up the support and keep those damned peggers off of us!” Hurricane nodded his thanks and turned back to the castle. Flaring his wings, he screamed out to the battle around him, “Pegasi of Cirra! One final effort is all that remains! I want everypony who can get to the castle on it, now! Don’t let anything hold you back!” To his relief, a loud ‘hooah!’ sounded from all around him, and dozens of Legionnaires broke from combat and sped towards the face of Burning Hearth. Flapping his wings as well, Hurricane took off and flew over the fighting ponies below, swerving left or right to avoid a few arcane bolts fired in his direction. Around him, a cloud of speeding pegasi pressed the castle, flaring their wings to slow down only at the last second before landing on the staircase in front of the ruined doors leading inwards. There they fought in brutal melee with the treacherous pegasi holding the stronghold, while unicorns rained magical death down on them from above. Instead of flaring his wings as he came closer, however, Hurricane tucked them against his sides and dived straight into a cluster of unicorns. They shouted as they saw him approach but were too slow to scatter, letting Hurricane plow through them like a speeding arrow while his exposed wingblades clipped those nearest him. Gurgling cries of death were left behind him when he finally came to a stop, and Hurricane turned to see three unicorns clutching at their throats while they stumbled to the ground, spreading pools of blood around them where they lay. The surviving unicorns scattered and began to ready spells, but Hurricane wasted no time getting right back to them. Swinging his sword, Hurricane dropped several unicorns before rolling out to the side over a volley of Arcana and continuing the assault on the next targets. The traitors screamed in pain and fear as Hurricane cut them down, sending their bodies tumbling down the stairs. Splitting one more unicorn from jaw to collarbone, Hurricane glanced across his armored back to see a group of eight unicorns preparing to barrage him with spells. Quickly bringing up his hind legs, Hurricane kicked out at them, releasing a bolt of raw lightning that struck the centermost among them. The electricity chained to the rest of the group, ultimately cooking them alive within their armor. They dropped to the ground as smoking and charred heaps, leaving the entrance to the castle clear. Turning around, Hurricane looked back out over the melee in the plaza. He squinted, searching for a familiar yellow face, until he finally saw him in the middle of a thick engagement. His heart dropped as he watched Pan Sea, Pathfinder, and Iron Rain fighting back to back against an overwhelming swarm of traitors. They were completely cut off and outnumbered, and unicorns on nearby rooftops peppered them with Arcana and kept the skies ablaze, denying them their flight. Hurricane stepped forward and opened his wings, prepared to fly back and bail out his friends, until he was suddenly yanked back with telekinesis. Snarling, Hurricane whirled around, ready to put his blade through the traitor holding him back, until he saw that Chiseled Gem had his horn lit up. He was standing on the staircase, holding Hurricane back, and his brow sweated profusely as he struggled to fight against the void crystals weakening his hold on the pegasus. “Commander… please,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling back with his neck for leverage. “You can’t do anything for them! This courtyard’s going to be overrun in fifteen minutes by the traitors unless we can kill those responsible! We ain’t got time to waste!” “They’re my soldiers!” Hurricane shouted back at him, still struggling to break free. “They’re my friends! I won’t let them die!” “This is war, Commander!” Gem cried back. “Ponies die, and sometimes they’re your friends! You of all ponies should know this!” For a second, an old scene played before Hurricane’s eyes. It was a throne room with a red and bloody sky outside its glass windows. Within the room were several Praetorians and Legionnaires huddled around columns, all facing a heavy iron door. As Hurricane watched, a silver pegasus turned towards him and began to shout. Gritting his teeth, Hurricane shook the horrid memory away. “I won’t let any more of my friends die! Too many have died for me!” “If you stop here, sir, everypony dies!” Gem’s grip on Hurricane’s wings flickered, and he clenched his teeth even harder in stress. “Your son, your daughter, your friends, and thousands other ponies will die unless we stop this now!” Hurricane still struggled, albeit lightly, as dismay filled his features. He watched as Pathfinder bobbed and weaved around a series of attacks that three pegasi and a unicorn were sending his way. He watched as Iron Rain let loose all around her, dropping traitors left and right, but still they pressed against her and attacked her sides. He watched as Pan Sea stumbled backwards, blocking blows from a pair of ponies until he tripped over a body and fell onto his back, leaving his stomach exposed to their onslaught. The two pegasi locked eyes. There was fear in Pan Sea’s, and he reached out to Hurricane as blades plunged towards him. Red. Hurricane blinked as bodies swallowed up Pan Sea. Friendly reinforcements were making their way into the fight, but it was too late for the ponies in the middle. Slowly, steadily, Hurricane turned around on shaking hooves and trembling limbs until he was facing Chiseled Gem. After a moment’s hesitation, the unicorn released his grip on Hurricane, and he saw the emotions in the pegasus’ eyes. “Commander, I…” “Nopony more needs to die today,” Hurricane said as he walked towards the door. “But they still will die, and I will be responsible for some of them. Let’s hope that through more bloodshed we can ultimately stop it.” Then he marched into the castle, leaving the fight to come to its own conclusion. ----- Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump. Typhoon opened her eyes and moaned in pain. Her heart was roaring in her ears, weak and fluttering as it was. The world before her was blurry and red against a backdrop of black and white. Flashes of light and tinges of shadow danced across her vision, and she felt like throwing up. She weakly fluttered one of her wings and attempted to get off of her side. As soon as she put weight on her hooves, she grunted in immense pain and collapsed back into the pool of blood around her. She could taste it on her muzzle and feel it bite into her eyes. It soaked her mane and coat, making them hot and sticky. Like glue, it held her to the floor, even as more drained out from the wounds all across her body. Another wave of pain wracked her, and Typhoon screamed in silence as she felt the hundreds of shards of skysteel that lacerated her coat embedded in her skin. Across her face and neck and chest, it felt like thousands of scalding needles digging into her flesh. They sapped her strength, and her hooves tingled in numbness as she lost more blood. A raspy grunt sounded off behind her, and Typhoon slowly slid her head across the tile and blood until she could look around her limp body to find it. There was Cyclone, painfully forcing his way onto his hooves. He stumbled once and slammed his jaw into a similar pool of blood around himself before trying to stand up again. His left wing dragged in the blood, the crimson feathers saturated with all the color they could hold. Blood streamed from his face and neck, and rivulets ran down his muzzle before dripping onto the ground around him. He coughed, wetly and painfully, and spat out a thick glob of blood onto the ground around him. Looking ahead of her, Typhoon could see the hilt of her shattered sword lying about two feet away. The ground around it was covered in frost, and the blood of hers that got too close to the sword congealed into a heavy mess of frozen scarlet. Tiny shards of skysteel lay scattered around it, casting thin, wispy lines of frost into the air as their intrinsic Empatha bled dry and the steel reverted to cloud form. Gritting her teeth so hard against each other that her jaw nearly locked, Typhoon fought through the pain and began to stand up. She nearly fell again, but this time she pressed a wing against the ground for support until she could get her legs underneath herself again. Blood flowed freely from the wound in her side, but she couldn’t summon the fire Empatha to cauterize it. Glancing to where Cyclone stood and panted, Typhoon figured he was just as worn down as she was. With one slow, uneasy step after another, Typhoon panted her way over to the hilt of her sword. There was little more than a foot of shattered steel remaining of its once-proud blade; the rest was on the ground or embedded in hers and Cyclone’s bodies. She could feel her brother watching her, his own mouth clenched around the remains of his gladius. The hilt was quickly becoming red with the blood from his mouth, and his body trembled visibly from exhaustion and blood loss. His face was contorted in the dull ache of pain, yet it would have been more if his own blood loss had not dulled his nerves. Stopping in front of what was once her weapon, Typhoon looked down at the blade. There were red spots along what remained; blood from herself and her brother, the blood of Commander Hurricane’s family. She remembered how proud she was of this sword when she made it many years back. A magnificent cirrostratus blade, a weapon that would bring honor to her family and to the Legion, always strengthening Cirra. It had done that for four years, from when she was a filly drilling against her newly-enlisted brother through her years in the Legion and finally as a Praetorian Commander. Now, in its final battle, she had tried to use it against her brother, and it had shattered. Perhaps that was best for it, that it die here rather than kill her only sibling. She wouldn’t want to dishonor it in that way. But still she picked it up and turned back to her brother. They both watched each other for the longest time, blood pouring from their wounds, while the Praetorians fidgeted in the background. The world was still black and white and red, but that only helped Cyclone’s crimson coat stand out against his surroundings. Even with a broken sword, Typhoon would fight to the end, one way or another. So long as she didn’t die of blood loss beforehand, she would either kill Cyclone or die trying. Unless they both died of blood loss, which was an alarmingly real possibility at this point. Wordlessly, Typhoon began to stumble towards her brother. Every step to the right nearly made her black out in pain, and it took all her focus to not fall over with each and every limp. The whole time, however, she kept her eyes on her brother, noting the sad conviction and pain in his face that she mirrored with her own. Cyclone stood his ground, breathing heavily and trying to get oxygen to his sore limbs with what little blood he had left. Narrowing his eyes, he took a step forward as Typhoon approached and raised his sword. Typhoon did the same, feeling dizziness come to her as she put further strain on the arteries in her neck, and together the two swords came down on each other. A dull yet forceful ring filled the throne room, and both pegasi stumbled back, nearly tripping over their own hooves as they recoiled from the blow. When Typhoon stopped her backpedaling, she paused to catch her breath. The two siblings were less than ten feet away, offering each other the first good look at their features and wounds since the fight started. They were both covered in scars, scratches, bruises and open wounds. Both could barely find the strength to keep their heads up. Both had suffered crippling wounds to their sides. Both had broken their swords. Both had the mirror image of a scar across an eye, and both were covered in the sweat and blood of the other. If they were so similar, even of the same blood, why were they doing this? That was the question written across each sibling’s face and whispered in hushed conversation between their minds and their hearts. Pain, much more so emotional than physical, dominated their faces with sad eyes and gritted teeth. But that pain was what kept them going, and what stayed the shattered remains of their swords between their teeth. Looking at each other again, brother and sister raised their swords and struck out. The weapons were slow and easy to follow, and they met in the middle with the same force as before. Cyclone took a heavy step back, and Typhoon took two. Struggling to breathe with the hole punched into her armor and the deep, deep wound to her ribs on the right, Typhoon fought back the darkness creeping into her vision. She could hardly hear her heart anymore, and it was much slower than before. She nearly stumbled over her hooves as she turned around. They were rapidly bleeding dry of sensation. In a few more minutes, it might very well be impossible for her to stand. Seeing Cyclone trip but catch himself at the last possible moment showed that he too was struggling to fight off unconsciousness. Taking deep breaths to ready themselves, both siblings delayed for as long as they could before they swung again. This time when the shattered swords met, they locked together, leaving them face to face as they pressed with what little strength they had left. Both blinked as they pressed, mere inches from each other. They were so close that they could count the individual hairs on the other’s muzzle. They were also close enough for Typhoon to see the hurt in Cyclone’s eyes, and for Cyclone to see the tears barely held back in Typhoon’s. With a long, drawn out breath, both ponies pushed against each other one last time before separating and tripping backwards. Panting, Typhoon steadied herself and moved back faster, to which Cyclone responded with equal speed. Their swords once again met and locked, sending chattering vibrations down each other’s jaws and only adding to the tingling numbness they felt in their faces. Breaking the lock, both ponies drew back and slashed forward again only to meet in another. With a few seconds of exertion, they broke off and returned yet again, first high, and then low. As they fought their dying battle, their foreheads brushed against each other, mixing blood and sweat and feeble warmth. There was some shouting behind them, towards the door leading out into the hall, but they both ignored it. Panting, they pulled back several steps and tried to recoup their strength. Both pegasi held their wings loosely by the ground; Typhoon realized that she couldn’t feel hers anymore. She tapped a hoof against the tile, and other than the dull thud that echoed in her ears, she could hardly feel the vibrations that traveled the length of her leg. But it wasn’t over yet, and so she advanced again. The two siblings crossed swords yet again. The blow almost knocked Typhoon’s from her mouth, and she had to recoil slightly to hold onto it. Cyclone failed to press his advantage, and if it was either from fatigue or something else, Typhoon couldn’t tell. Reaffixing her grip on the weapon, the mare swung back at Cyclone, knocking her brother’s head to the side. She tried to strike out at him, but she lost the force as she extended and only lightly brushed the side of his neck. He retaliated with a head-butt that left both of them reeling and clutching at their foreheads as they retreated. It took Typhoon much longer than she would have liked to recover from that. Cradling her forehead with a hoof, she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for the pain to dissipate. When she opened her eyes, tendrils of black shadow flickered across her vision, and she shook her head to try and clear them. The weight of the sword remnants in her grip nearly toppled her, and only by balancing on two legs did she stay up. With one final, exhausted stare, both ponies, Typhoon and Cyclone, watched each other and began to advance. Raising their swords high and with darkness creeping over them, they both put everything they had into what they assumed would be their final swing. The broken blades whistled as they sliced through the air, each aimed perfectly at their targets. Two swords missed each other. Two blades pierced flesh. Two bodies collided and locked there, frozen in pain. Typhoon grunted as her chest slammed into Cyclone’s, putting their necks past each other in a deathly embrace. She could feel the sword jammed into her side just as she could see the sword jammed into Cyclone’s. Both ponies stood in place, breathing very, very slightly, unmoving. “Typhoon,” Cyclone whispered. His voice crackled with blood, and he wheezed the words out. “C-Cyclone,” Typhoon quietly answered, finding it incredibly difficult to speak with the sword jammed into her chest. “I… I’m proud of you.” “…Thank you…” The two ponies slowly began to fall, slumping into each other’s embrace. When their knees touched the ground, they gasped together, unable to pull away. Typhoon managed to move her head enough to look into Cyclone’s eyes. Sadness, regret and remorse, and happiness filled them. She was sure there was a similar mixture of emotions in her own. “…Cyclone?” “Hm?” “I… I love you.” “More… more than you’ll know, sis.” Brother and sister leaned together for one last hug before falling together towards one side, unconscious and oblivious to the cry of dismay behind them. ----- Hurricane slowly walked into the main hall of Castle Burning Hearth. Dozens of pegasi and unicorns alike streamed in through the ruined doors behind him, taking up positions around the edge of the hall and checking for nearby enemies. When they were sure the room was secure, they waited along the walls and on either side of the massive hallway leading deeper into the castle. “No Praetorians here,” Chiseled Gem commented as he trotted in next to Hurricane. Sighing, he stopped and knelt down next to the mangled body of a unicorn. “But these are my stallions. Damn it all! The poor saps didn’t stand a chance against Celestis-damned Praetorians.” “They’d have taken positions deeper within the castle to lock down choke points,” Hurricane dully said. “We should expect to see a good sum of them by the throne room, while the rest will be clearing out the castle.” “I hope Star Swirl’s doing alright,” Gem muttered. Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “Star Swirl’s here?” The captain nodded. “Good thing too. His house was blown to smithereens as soon as the invasion started. Plus, he knows this castle like the back of his horn. He can handle himself.” “Praetorians hunt in groups of five. I’m not sure even a mage as gifted as him could take on that many elite.” “I tell you, the stallion’s fine,” Gem insisted as he began to trot down the hallway. “Trust me. He’s not River Rock’s archmage without reason.” Accelerating to a quick canter, Hurricane and Chiseled Gem led their coalition force down the hall, where it made a sharp turn to the right. Raising a wing, Hurricane ordered Gem to hang back while he scouted it out. Rounding the corner, Hurricane saw exactly what he expected to see. Behind a wall of onyx stone were twenty Praetorian Guards, each with a shield braced against their foreleg placed in front of them. Their swords were drawn and bloodied, and they watched Hurricane with a cold and emotionless gaze. He knew they recognized him, and he also knew that only their commander would answer him. Walking closer, Hurricane kept his sword sheathed—for now. Still, the latch was loosened, and the tiniest hint of skysteel gleamed with light cast off by the torches in the hall. His wings flexed in anticipation at his sides, the bloody scales on the wingblades stiff and squeaking against each other as they twisted. When he was about fifteen feet away, Hurricane stopped and erected his shoulders as straight and tall as possible. “Soldiers of the Praetorian Guard! I, Commander Maximus Hurricane, order you to stand down and let my companions pass. Do this, and your lives will be spared, and you will be granted amnesty for your treachery. Refuse, and I will have no choice but to answer with force.” The pegasi refused to move, as Hurricane expected. His attention was focused on the back of their line, searching for the Praetorian Commander. Soon enough, however, the line parted, and tree pegasi stepped forward, one with a large lightning bolt of gold emblazoned across his chest. The Praetorian Commander approached Hurricane while the two bodyguards flanked him, their weapons drawn. When they were almost nose to nose the Praetorian stopped and examined Hurricane closely. Hurricane eyed him back, refusing to blink or flinch when the commander flexed his wingblades. Behind him, he heard Chiseled Gem growling and the clopping of hooves as the rest of his company moved into the hallway behind him, yet Hurricane did not turn around. To take his attention away from the commander was a weakness, and he needed to be strong now. Behind the commander, a wall of blank stares regarded the general space in front of them, which Hurricane only happened to be in. The commander narrowed his eyes and frowned before taking a step back. Hurricane felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and his right hoof shifted a fraction of an inch wider. His eyes were glued to the commander’s, knowing they would state his intentions. Then, the Praetorian kneeled before Hurricane and drew his sword, laying it flat across the tile at the black pegasus’ hooves. “Commander Maximus. We are yours.” Hurricane released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding and dipped his head. “Up, soldier.” When the commander did as he was told, Hurricane stepped alongside him. “Tell me everything.” The Praetorian nodded, not needing the question clarified to know what Hurricane meant. “The Guard lost six hundred in the march to the castle. We lost another four hundred more clearing the first floor. Imperator Cyclone held onto five hundred of his own and set the remainder to clearing the higher and lower floors of the castle.” “Can we expect any more help?” “There are some who still honor the code like us,” the Praetorian answered, “but there are those who believe Imperator Cyclone to be the true ruler of the Empire. They will not abandon him as we have when they realize you are not dead.” “I see,” Hurricane said. “And Imperator Typhoon? Have you heard any news on her?” The Praetorian shook his head. “No, sir. I have not.” Hurricane pursed his lips. “Right. We need to move, though. Is Cyclone still in the throne room?” “I would imagine, sir. My stallions and I will escort you, but do not expect to pass this easily each time.” Nodding, the Praetorians fell in line behind Hurricane, filling the hall in rigid formation while the Legionnaires and Diamond Guards cautiously kept their distance. After all, those same ponies had until recently been slaughtering their companions. Yet none dared speak or strike out against them for fear of the same quick death. The coalition passed by more dead bodies and bloody walls. Unicorns split open, pegasi covered in scorch marks, and limbs of unidentifiable race were strewn across the halls or slumped over in corners. A torch knocked from its sconce smoldered on the ground, and the flames latched onto a bannister, sending tendrils of flame crawling up the fabric. Walking past the pyre, Hurricane shielded himself with a wing and trotted around a corner to find another group of Praetorian Guards in his way. Clearing his throat, Hurricane stopped in the middle of the hall again as the rest of his soldiers filed in behind him. “Soldiers of the Praetorian Guard! I, Commander Maximus Hurricane, order you to stand down and let my companions—” “Come no farther!” a gruff voice commanded from the line of soldiers. Another Praetorian Commander edged out of formation and advanced, his sword drawn and his wings held high. “Turn and leave now, heretics! The Empire has no place for your kind!” Scowling, Hurricane took a step forward. “I am your Commander and you are vowed to serve me, not the usurper Cyclone! Stand aside if you have any shred of honor left!” “Honor does not win wars, it makes corpses of stupid ponies,” the Praetorian seethed at Hurricane. “Emperor Cyclone promises us our land back, and we will kill those who stand against us! The Gods smile upon us, for we—!” His words were cut apart as Hurricane’s sword ripped through them. The other Praetorians flinched; in one moment, the sword had been in the black pegasus’ scabbard, and in the next it was sheathed in their commander’s throat. With a roar, Hurricane kicked the body off of his sword and leapt forward to engage the Praetorians around him. With the cries of battle, the loyalists slammed into the shield wall of the Praetorians holding the hall. The Praetorians pushed back and jabbed with their gladii, skewering the necks of the Legionnaires plastered against their shields and shaking the corpses off with a flick of their foreleg. Hurricane rammed his shoulder into the shield of the nearest Praetorian, causing the pegasus to stumble backwards, and attempted to hook a wing under the metal to strip it from the Guard. The soldier yanked back on his shield to try and destabilize Hurricane’s wing and simultaneously lashed forward with his sword at the Commander’s neck. Hurricane rolled out of the way and backpedaled, looking for an opening. The wall of shields remained resolute, and there was too little space to fly over them. Then, the shield in front of him glowed in a blue light, and the Praetorian yelped when he was suddenly dragged forward by his foreleg. As he began to pass, Hurricane wrapped a foreleg around the soldier’s neck and flipped him onto his back, shaking the shield free from his leg. The soldier tried to kick Hurricane off, but he jumped out of the way and rammed his wingblade down on the pinned Praetorian. The crest hit his skull just above his nose and plowed through bone and cartilage before coming to a rest in his brain. The Praetorian twitched and spasmed once before slouching against the ground. Wrenching his wing free from the body, Hurricane looked for his next target. The Diamond Guard loyalists in the rear were making excellent use of their magic, pulling on Praetorians’ shields or otherwise destabilizing them for the Legionnaires and Hurricane’s Praetorians to make quick work of them. It didn’t last for long, however, as the traitors split the leather straps holding their shields in place with their gladii and whirled the heavy skysteel and onyx devices into the advancing line of loyalists. Screams and crunches of skulls punctuated the hall, and a head cleaved off by a shield bounced before Hurricane’s front hooves. Without their shields, the defending Praetorians could fight freely in close quarters and left the unicorns in the back with little to grab onto. Plunging through the gap in their lines, Hurricane attempted to maneuver around the nearest Praetorian and stab him in the back. The soldier was currently dueling a Legionnaire, and was putting the younger pegasus on the ropes with his ferocious attacks. When he extended himself towards the Legionnaire, the stallion barely managed to step away from the attack. Yet it was the opening Hurricane needed, and with a yell he plunged his skysteel into the Praetorian’s side. There was a hiss of flesh as the weapon discharged its Empatha, and the traitor screeched once, falling over dead. The Legionnaire nodded to Hurricane and was about to mouth his thanks were it not for the sword that cleaved the young pegasus’ head from his body. Blood showered Hurricane’s face, and he had to flop backwards to avoid the weapon as it continued on its lethal trajectory and passed over his head. Rolling onto his hooves, Hurricane found himself face to face with a bloodstained Praetorian pressing him hard. Raising his sword, Hurricane caught the next of the Praetorian’s attacks, feeling the shock travel through his teeth and forcing him to recoil slightly. It was probably the hardest block he had made all day, and it was followed up by even more damaging blows. Carefully stepping backwards, Hurricane made room for himself without allowing his opponent to force him back and away from the fighting. Quickly whirling his wings, the Commander managed to expertly block several downward smashes from the Praetorian’s wingblades and returned with a slash of his own that struck the traitor across the nose. The Praetorian cursed and stepped back as blood dripped from his muzzle, but he soon pressed Hurricane again with renewed vigor. Hurricane countered most of the attacks with slashes of his own, and bobbed under the heavier blows. With one such attack, Hurricane dived hard to the left as the blade whirled over his head just in time for the Praetorian to lash out at him with a powerful buck. The blow connected across his face and sent Hurricane flopping backwards with stars dancing across his eyes. When he came to a stop against the opposite wall, he groaned and pressed a hoof against it to help himself up. He had little time to, however, and the Praetorian was soon upon him, pressing him against the wall like a cornered animal. Hurricane blocked out the lights blinding him and managed to respond to each of the Praetorian’s strikes before hooking his wingblade under the soldier’s sword and throwing it to the side. As the Praetorian came off balance, Hurricane brought his sword down on him, to which the stumbling pegasus responded by blocking with a wingblade. Rebounding off the strike, Hurricane raised his sword again and continued to hammer away at the single wing. Each successive blow forced the Praetorian against the ground until he was using one wing to hold himself up against the floor and the other to block Hurricane. Raising his sword high, Hurricane reared up onto his hind legs to drop the steel with all his weight. The resulting blow hit the Praetorian’s wingblade so hard that it crushed the scales underneath it, the mere tension popping the skysteel from the assembly and launching shards of metal in every direction. The Praetorian screamed in pain, and Hurricane drew back only to attack the broken notch again with his sword. This time to blade cut through the rest of the wingblade as well as half the pegasus’ wing before splitting open his ribs. The traitor stiffened and gurgled out one last cry until he drowned in his own blood and died. Looking around, Hurricane saw the last of the treacherous Praetorians make their final stands against one side of the wall. At some point in the fight, some of their allies had switched sides again and returned to the loyalist’s coalition, where the friendly commander had set about organizing them into his formation. Turning around, Hurricane could see the throne room doors battered open about a hundred feet down the hall. The tinny ringing of swords echoed out of the room, however hard it was to hear over the final scuffles of the battle behind him. Taking a deep breath, Hurricane braced himself for the fight to come. Cyclone must be mopping up with his personal Guard; it was probably far too late for King Lapis by this point. If he could just get some of Cyclone’s soldiers to turn on him, he had a good chance to win. If not… well, he didn’t know whether his son would show him the same mercy Hurricane had planned to. “Soldiers!” he shouted, grimacing as the dry air grated against his hoarse voice. “We’re almost there! One last push! One more fight! Come on!” His sword held in his grasp, Hurricane galloped down the hall with the few hundred soldiers he had managed to rally behind him. It was definitely not the five hundred Cyclone supposedly had, and he’d need a little help converting some to his side. Once he got a look inside, he’d be able to make more concrete plans. Lowering his head, Hurricane charged towards the doorframe and slid to a stop in the center. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The clatter of his discarded sword against the ground was enough to notify the Praetorians nearest him that there was someone behind them. They quickly turned about only to receive light blows to the face from Hurricane’s wings as he leapt over them and sped towards the center of the room. “No! Gods, no!! Gods!!” Hurricane nearly slammed his face into the stone as he came to a hurried landing in the center of the room. He was surrounded on all sides by potentially hostile Praetorian Guards, sure, but he didn’t care. His attention was entirely devoted to the two ponies bleeding out together on the floor in front of him. One with a red coat and a black mane, and the other with a blond coat and multicolored mane. Both his children, each with their swords deep in each other’s side. “Typhoon! Cyclone!” Hurricane collapsed onto his knees next to the two of them and placed his hooves on their chests. They were both unresponsive, and there was a frightening amount of blood on the ground. He could see the shallow breathing of their chests; they were alive, but barely. Blood burbled out and around the sword in Typhoon’s side with every breath, and it flowed in bursts and stutters out of Cyclone’s mouth and nose. Their faces were scarred, and several tiny razors of skysteel poked through their coats from their heads to the collars of their broken armor. “This can’t happen!” Hurricane screamed, trying to hold his children’s heads up. “No! I won’t lose my entire family in one Gods-damned day!” Looking up from his children, Hurricane scowled at the nearest Praetorian Guards. “You! I don’t care who you fight for, stop standing around and get a damned medic in here! They are not dying today! They are not!” As the soldiers quickly began to try and locate a combat medic, Hurricane looked down at his dying children and whispered to himself again, “They are not…” Hurricane cradled his children closer, feeling their fur against his coat, watching as their breathing only continued to get quieter and slower. He bared his teeth in anger even as tears streamed down his face. “This is my fault. This is all my fault. I should never have left. Never. Forgive me. F-Forgive me…” The world moved by Hurricane in a blur. The Praetorians around the edge of the room began to move in different directions, following somepony’s orders that he didn’t hear. A few soldiers on different sides butted heads, but no fights broke out. At some point a pair of Legionnaires with red crosses painted onto their shoulder plates showed up and began to bandage Cyclone and Typhoon while two Praetorians led Hurricane away. They sat him down near the edge of the room, where over the course of the next fifteen minutes centurions and legates came up to him, giving reports on the status of the battle. Learning about their leader’s defeat, the Praetorian Guard inside of Burning Hearth had surrendered to Hurricane and had set about bringing the battle outside to a close. Reports then started to trickle in, saying which regiments and where had laid down their arms and turned back to the Legion, and which regiments continued to stubbornly fight. It was basically over now, and the only thing left to do was count the bodies. Chiseled Gem stood by Hurricane’s side as the two of them watched a pair of Diamond Guards lift King Lapis from his bloody throne. Hurricane couldn’t tell at this distance whether the limp body was alive or not; not that he really cared anymore. He was beaten and bent, and on the verge of being broken. Too many good ponies, too many ponies he loved, had died today. “I know how you’re feeling,” Chiseled Gem whispered to Hurricane. Grunting, the unicorn sat down and slowly took off his helmet. “Some of my lieutenants just came and… came and saw me. They said…” He sighed and look away to hide the tears in his face. “They said they found my son’s body. Shattered Gem. Jewel, as he was fond of calling himself. I’ll never know why.” Chiseled Gem coughed, clearing his throat, and wet his lips with his tongue several times before nodding to some distant and invisible figure. “Dead on his own sword. But that’s… not the worst of it. The traitors in the Guard are saying that he was their leader. He started this in River Rock. This is as much his fault as it is your son’s.” “And how do you feel,” Hurricane flatly stated, not even bothering to put the inflection on it to make it a question. “Does it make it better?” The unicorn was silent for a long while before answering. “No, sir, it doesn’t. Traitor or not, blood’s blood. He’s my son.” He looked away and spoke over restrained tears, “And now he’s gone.” Hurricane sighed and brushed him with a wing. “I lost my wife today to this stupid coup. I lost my friend, Pan Sea, and many good ponies I dragged into this fight with me. If I lose my children now…” “They’re strong kids,” Chiseled Gem assured him. “They’ll be fine.” Hurricane looked blankly at him for several seconds before nodding. “Yes. Right. Sure.” Any other words he had to say were lost in sad silence. A legate trotted up to Hurricane and saluted with her wing. “Sir, the other legates just confirmed that the fighting in the city has stopped. It’s over now.” The tired stallion nodded like a pony twenty years older. “Good. Tally our dead. Their families should know, regardless of who they fought for.” The mare nodded and stepped back. “Right away, sir.” Hurricane and Chiseled Gem watched her leave. “I should be going,” the Captain said, standing up on sapphire limbs. Using his Arcana, he levitated his helmet back around his horn. “I’m sorry for your loss, sir. I truly am. When this whole thing’s sorted out, drinks are on me.” A new voice answered him from the doorway. “Heh! I’ll drink to that!” Hurricane looked up to see Pathfinder limping in, his left wing held in a sling and dried blood streaked through his matted mane. Plaster bandages covered his side, and a long laceration still oozing blood cut across his thigh. Yet there was a smile on his face, a spark of hope that had yet to be crushed. “Pathfinder?” Hurricane remarked, finally standing for the first time in nearly twenty minutes. He blinked a few times to make sure the centurion was actually there. “How did you survive that?” “Three things,” Finder said, approaching Hurricane’s side before sitting down painfully on one flank. “First, your reinforcements proved timely as ever. Second, my wife’s a Gods-damned menace on the battlefield. And third,” he paused, lowering his head in embarrassment, “playing dead helps sometimes. This bruise on my face, that’s when a unicorn tripped over my ‘dead’ body. Stabbed him in the gut as he fell, too.” Hurricane nodded thoughtfully. “Hm. Your wife? How about her?” Finder shrugged his shoulders. “Seeing the medics. There’s only so much you can do in close quarters with a buck knife and two wingblades. Some bastard skewered her flank good, and for once it wasn’t me.” He breathed a short chuckle to himself before continuing. “She was terrifying to behold, though. I don’t think there’s a single white hair left on her body.” “I can imagine,” Hurricane said. “Thank you, centurion. I’m glad you’re alright.” Pathfinder nodded, then furrowed his brow. “You didn’t ask about Pan Sea.” Hurricane tensed up. “I saw him, Pathfinder. I saw him get cut open. I already know.” “Pardon me, sir, but you don’t know anything,” Pathfinder retorted. “If you had hung around for a little while longer you’d have seen that they didn’t kill him.” “…What?” “He’s beat up, sure, but I think he’ll be fine,” Pathfinder said. “I’ve had worse.” Just then, Iron Rain fluttered into the throne room, devoid of armor. Standing up, Finder nodded to her. “Hey, you’re done early. I was just talking with the Commander about Pan Sea.” “The only real problem I have is my flank,” Rain answered. “The medics want me to keep off of my left hooves, so I have to either rest on a cloud or hover all the damn time.” Then she turned to Hurricane, and there was a sad conviction in her eyes. “About Pan Sea; I’ve only seen one pony that’s survived a wound like his,” she commented as she looked at Pathfinder and the old scar along his side. “And he was a lot younger then.” Finder shrugged his shoulders. “I was just trying to be optimistic.” “So what you two are saying is…?” Hurricane asked. Rain nodded towards Hurricane as she hovered in place. “I’m saying you should make your peace now, Commander. Just in case.” “How are your children, sir?” Finder piped up. “I haven’t seen them around.” The look on Hurricane’s face said everything. “Maybe we should all make peace with fate,” Rain said, grimly. “And despite who lives or dies, history will long remember this as the blackest day of our lives.” > Chapter 19: Follow the Sun > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 19: Follow the Sun “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t see the Imperators right now. They’re still in critical condition.” Hurricane sighed and nodded solemnly to the Legionnaire with the red cross on his shoulder plate. “Right. Just—how are they?” The Legionnaire pulled out a scroll and stretched it open with his hooves. “They lost a lot of blood. Imperator Cyclone has severe damage to his left shoulder and wing; it was badly dislocated in the fight, and the successive flapping around didn’t help it out much. It was a good thing he was passed out from blood loss; the doctors were able to manipulate it back into position with little difficulty…” The black stallion glanced at the medic. “What is it?” The medic shuffled his hooves. “I don’t think he’ll be able to fly again, sir. The wing crest is fractured badly, and the dislocation cut off blood to the muscles. Even if he does fully recover after the physiotherapy, I doubt he’ll be able to fly more than five minutes at a time.” “But he is stable?” Hurricane pressed. “You said he lost a lot of blood.” “‘Balanced’ would be a more apt turn. He lost a lot of blood; probably near half of it. He’s walking on a razor’s edge. We’re hoping that food and rest will help him recover, and what little there is of the former is leaving plenty for the latter.” The medic smiled at Hurricane professionally, as he was trained to do to a hundred other families for a hundred other dying soldiers before. “Relax, sir. He’s in good hooves.” Hurricane dipped his head and fidgeted slightly. “And Typhoon? How is she?” The medic shuffled in his armor and tapped a hoof on the ground. Hurricane saw it, despite the calm the pony’s face presented. “She’s in critical care. She lost more blood than Imperator Cyclone, and she’s a smaller pony, too. Combine that with several days of intense starvation and dehydration, along with the deep wound to her side…” The Commander Maximus of Cirra was trembling like a worried foal, yet he managed to raise his head and look the medic in the eye. “Is she going to live?” “We’re doing the best we can, sir. The other doctors are working on her right now. I’ll make sure to keep you informed if her condition changes.” Hurricane nodded. “Thank you. If there’s anything you need…” The medic had heard this all before. “Of course, Commander. We will have messengers on standby in case anything changes.” Sensing that the conversation was finished, the soldier saluted to Hurricane and turned away towards another family approaching from the other side. They were a mare and a young stallion with two foals playing at their hooves. From the way they eyed Hurricane warily, the Commander suspected whomever they were there to visit had sided with Cyclone during the siege. Not that it particularly mattered to him one way or another. Sighing, Hurricane walked away and deeper into the hospital, searching for a pony. It had been three days since the coup; three tiring, blurry days. In the wake of the takeover attempt were left tens of thousands of bodies, twice as many wounded, and hundreds more without homes. Feeding, clothing, and housing all of them had been a nightmare, and now, well over a month since the blizzard began, all three tribes had finally exhausted the last of their fresh food. Hurricane had sent as many soldiers as he could spare, some twelve thousand, to the west with the simple mission of gather as much food as they could fit onto pegasus wagons and bring them back as soon as possible. He had also dispatched two chariots to locate Platinum and Puddinghead and bring them back to their respective capitals along with their companions. As of yet, they had not returned, which was understandable; after all, trying to find four ponies in the middle of unexplored wilderness was much, much easier said than done. And in the middle of it all, Hurricane still had to manage a nation—two, actually, counting the shattered royalty of the Diamond Kingdom. King Lapis had died from his wounds long before Hurricane had fought his way into the throne room, and Cyclone’s firebombing had killed a good number of nobles as they cowered within their manors. With nopony to rule them, Hurricane and the Legion had to step in and try to restore some semblance of ordinary life to the city. With anti-pegasus tensions higher than ever, though, it was a struggle just to stop the city from rioting. At least the Praetorian Guard was slowly bringing calm back to River Rock, and those members who had participated in the invasion were just as quick to lend a hoof in the reconstruction of the town. Not that it would matter much, anyway, when Princess—Queen Platinum led the unicorns west. Hurricane mused on that briefly. Platinum probably still thought that nothing was wrong back home. What a horrible shock it would be to her when she realized that her city was nearly burnt to the ground, her father was murdered, and she had become a queen the moment she returned to River Rock. He could feel her pain. It was nearly the same sentiment he felt when he came back to Cloudsdale. Pausing at an intersection, Hurricane glanced around for a sign telling him which way to go. There were no such signs, however, and he soon decided to set off to the right on a hunch. As he walked, his mind wandered to everything that still needed to be done. He needed to preside over the trial for the treacherous officers, he needed to organize the exodus—another exodus—and he still had yet to say his final goodbyes to Swift Spear. He wanted to do so with his children and Twister, and that was the only reason he had not yet gotten around to it. That, and the wounds in his heart were still too deep and too fresh. Even thinking about the mare that he loved, the mare he would never see again, brought him to the verge of tears. Hurricane paused by a window and rested his hooves on the sill as he felt his chest begin to heave and tremble again. So much was piling on top of him. So much to do, so much to say, and nobody he could pass it off onto. His family was dead or dying. His friends were in little better shape. No wonder he had found the first traces of silver hair in his mane the night prior. He looked out the window again, and immediately realized his mistake. It was placed on the eastern side of the building, and he could see across town square and the statue nestled in the middle. The statue of Silver Sword, standing tall, proud and looking ever eastward. From this angle, Hurricane could just catch a glimpse of his solemn face. The resolute features had never changed in twenty years, and never would change for as long as the city stood the test of time. It was too much. He broke down there in a quiet sob, pinching a hoof to the bridge of his nose as tears streamed from his eyes. His wings hung low by his sides, dirty and unpreened, and the primaries brushed against the floor. As the warm water ran down the fur on his face, Hurricane squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against the window. Several ponies walked past him in both directions, but none stopped, and for that, Hurricane was thankful. When he had finally regained his composure some ten minutes later, he wiped the tears from his face and set off down the hall again, making sure to keep his all-too revealing wings at his side. He must be strong; he was the only true leader Cirra and perhaps the entirety of the Compact had left now. That conviction slowly steeled his nerves as he walked into another wing of the hospital. Here lied the treated Legionnaires in various stages of recovery, some with little more than linen bandages around their heads, others with wings in slings or legs amputated with bloody gauze-wrapped stumps where flesh and bone ought to have been. Hurricane looked through all of them, noting the placards hanging from the bedframes, and soon found the pony he was looking for with a doctor not too far away. Hurricane moved towards the bedded Legionnaire, but the doctor nearby stopped him with an authoritative hoof. “Sir, with all due respect, now would not be the best time to see him. I know the private is a friend of yours, but—” “I don’t mean to wake him if he’s sleeping,” Hurricane said, looking over the doctor’s shoulder and noting that the pony was indeed out cold. “I just want to know how he’s doing.” The doctor looked through the papers at the foot of the bed until he pulled out a marked-up diagram of a pony. “The swords cut fairly deep, but nothing that we couldn’t handle. His flank and the stifle of his left leg took the worst of it; those muscles will need some time to heal on their own. The hock and cannon of his right leg are crushed. He hasn’t said much about the fight, but two other soldiers who were with him at the time, Legate Iron Rain and Centurion Pathfinder? They said a Legionnaire falling out of the sky struck his leg directly with its helm when the corpse landed.” Looking left, Hurricane saw the pony’s ears twitch. Turning back to the doctor, he bowed his head. “Thank you. If you would, I would like to spend some time with him.” The doctor saluted. “As you wish, Commander.” Then, gathering up his belongings, the medic left to check on some other patients. Pulling over a stool, Hurricane sat down and rested his forehooves on the frame of the bed. “He’s gone now, Pansy.” The butter yellow stallion frowned and squirmed just enough to get his head up and supported by the backrest of his bed. “I thought he would never leave. And it’s ‘Pan Sea’, sir.” Hurricane chuckled lightly. “Force of habit. How’re the legs?” Pan Sea lifted the covers slightly. Whatever he saw was obviously anything but pretty, and he quickly dropped them again, a tinge of green in his face. “They’ve been… better. To say the least.” The smirk came softly over Hurricane’s face. “Two cuts and a broken leg? I’d say that’s a helluva tradeoff compared to all the traitors you cut down.” Laughing slightly, Pan Sea shook his head. “Right. I just figured I’d do my best to impersonate you, sir, and nothing would be able to touch me.” “Seems like you could use a little work. Overall, though, a really solid plan.” They both chuckled, Hurricane enjoying the friendly banter to take his mind off of the world just as much as Pan Sea. “How are Cyclone and Typhoon?” Pan Sea suddenly asked, his face growing stern. Hurricane’s chuckles died into silence like a lone wolf over the frozen tundra. He furrowed his brow, thoughtful for a moment, before sighing. His shoulders collapsed then, and he shook his head slightly. “I wish I could say things were going well, but it’s a tenuous enough balance as it is. They’re thinking Cyclone might live, but Typhoon?” He shook his head, blinking away tears, “She took the worst of it. They’re still not sure if she’ll make it.” “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Pan Sea insisted. “You know her better than I do, but I can say that she’s her mother through and through, all the way to the core. She’s strong, stronger than I could ever be.” “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Hurricane noted. “Not many ponies survive what you went through.” “Not many ponies pass out from a cut,” Pan Sea returned. “Pathfinder saw me yesterday and said I was never in any danger of dying from my wounds.” “Pathfinder’s a stubborn son of a bitch who forgets that not all Legionnaires joined the Legion when they were thirteen. Don’t listen to him just because he took a bad wound during the Red Cloud War and survived; he would have been dead if help didn’t arrive for him.” Pan Sea thoughtfully hummed and placed a hoof to his chin. Hurricane wasn’t sure if telling Pan Sea he would have died without help to prove a point was a good idea or not, but it hardly mattered now. In the end, the yellow pegasus just nodded his head. “Oh well. Not that it matters anyway. It’s not like I’ll ever be fighting again.” Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean you were in that much danger of dying…” “No, it’s not that,” Pan Sea said. Pulling off the covers, he showed Hurricane his twisted right leg. “That’s the problem. How can I fight if my leg points almost directly at my opposite hoof? How can I get the momentum to swing a sword? Walking is already going to a problem enough as it is.” “Pan Sea…” Hurricane began, his tone cautious. “What is it you’re so worried about?” Pan Sea sighed. “I don’t want to be discharged, Commander. Years ago, even last month? That would have been different. Truth be told, I hated the Legion. I only remained because the centurions wanted my experience from the War and… well, my dad would never forgive me if I quit. Even from the grave, he’d still scorn me. He was a proper Legate in his day, during the High Noon War, and he was a proud stallion. He died a few years before the Red Cloud War, but all my life he kept pressing me towards the Legion, and I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t say no, and now…” “Now you don’t want to go,” Hurricane finished for him. “Now that you finally have your way out, you finally feel like you belong.” “Exactly,” Pan Sea mewled. “Flying with you to the west, sir, and doing the things we did, and Pathfinder and Iron Rain? I don’t want to give that up, not now, but the Legion will never keep on a lame stallion who can’t fight. What have I got to look forward to when I’m discharged? Where will I work, what’ll I do?” Hurricane frowned at Pan Sea. “You have my word, Pan Sea, I’ll say something to the Praetorian about this. I may not be able to earn you a spot on the battlefield, but I’m in desperate need of a secretary, and I only hire ponies I trust to look through my paperwork.” Squinting at Pan Sea, Hurricane raised an eyebrow. “Can I trust you?” Pan Sea smiled and saluted. “Sir, yes sir!” “That’s what I thought. At ease, centurion Pan Sea.” “Heheh. You know what? I think I’ll take the promotion for once, sir.” “Good to hear,” Hurricane said as he backed away. He could already see sleep and exhaustion clawing at Pan Sea’s eyes. “I’ll let you rest for now. I’ll see you in the morning, hm?” Pan Sea nodded at Hurricane. “Of course, Commander. I’ll be looking forward to it.” Hurricane saluted to Pan Sea and all too quickly had to turn around and leave. By the time he had taken five steps away from the wounded soldier, Pan Sea was asleep, a serene smile on his face. ----- Typhoon floated through darkness. There was nothing around her. No sky, no ground, no floors or walls or ceilings. No light, no shadows. Not even a rustle of air. Her mane and tail were as limp as could be as they draped from her head or down her flanks. She was happy here. It was peaceful. There was no pain, no feeling. Just the dark. Her and the darkness. She couldn’t feel the numerous shards of skysteel embedded in her skin, couldn’t feel the deep wound in her side or through her shoulder. The burning in her flesh and the lightheadedness was gone. Everything was perfect. Everything was nice. There was a slight tug at her shoulders and at her mind that felt like she was falling, sinking ever so slowly, just as she had been for the past… Gods, she had no idea how long. Time did not exist here. Nothing existed here. Yet she knew that she was going somewhere. She felt whatever it was drawing her soul ever onwards, ever closer to the Great Skies. When she would get there, she didn’t know. If she was already there, she didn’t know. If she would ever get there, she didn’t know. But it was nice here. Comfortable, even. A tiny pinprick of light pierced the darkness. Typhoon recoiled from it, throwing up a hoof against the pain it brought. Why did it have to be so cruel? Why did it ruin her happiness? She didn’t want it. Didn’t want its light. Make it go away. Please. Bad light. Bad pain. Her falling sensation stopped, and to Typhoon’s infinite dismay, she began to move upwards, towards the light and the pain and the imperfection it was. She could feel the wounds against her sides reopening. Shards of skysteel suddenly sprouted from her neck, little larger than pebbles but sharper than any metal, horrible razors of fire and ice sent to torture her. A cleft under her right wing opened up, and Typhoon shrieked in pain. She felt the returning pain of a sword burrowing into her left shoulder, but it was simply another needle on a pile of swords. It was already so much, so much compared to the perfect darkness she had dwelt in. The light was getting closer, larger, brighter, meaner. Go away, please. Go away. Go away go away go away go away go away go away— In a blinding flash of light, Typhoon’s eyes flew open and she sat up in her bed. A sudden and sharp pain in her sides forced her back down, and she lay there with her head on the pillow, moaning. A dull ache pervaded her body, and her neck and chest itched like mad. Sweating profusely, she gulped down air and shuddered at each breath. She moved a hoof, slowly and with great difficulty, along her body, feeling numerous stitches and several thick, plaster bandages on each side. Blinking several times, Typhoon tried to get a fix on her surroundings. It was a white room with several cabinets and shelves holding medical equipment. That the white came from cloudstone was incredibly comforting to the mare. She was somewhere safe at least. If it had been stone or dirt, she probably would have broken right there. But she was in Cloudsdale, not River Rock. She doubted she could ever set hoof in that city again. “So… awake?” Typhoon jumped in her bed, her wings shooting out to her sides in alarm. Trembling slightly, she turned her head to the side. She realized for the first time there was another bed in the room she was in, and it was also occupied. There, with his back against the frame of his bed, was a stallion with a crimson coat. He too was covered in bandages and stitches, and the scar over his left eye was still raw and oozed slightly. “C-Cyclone?” Typhoon inched herself backwards, wary and alarmed. “You’re… alive?” Cyclone chuckled slightly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Typhoon was at a loss for words. “I… I didn’t think you’d survive… I didn’t think I’d survive.” “A stubborn enough pony can survive about anything,” Cyclone mused. “You and I? We’re stubborn ponies. It’ll take a lot more than that to kill one another.” He coughed, spitting a wad of bloody saliva on the floor next to him. He grimaced and laid back against the bed, placing a hoof over his chest. “That… urgh… doesn’t mean you didn’t do quite a number to me in that fight.” Typhoon glanced at her own wounds. She spoke softly, ashamed of what she said next. “I tried to kill you.” Cyclone stared at his rear hooves. “So did I… and I meant it.” His voice was but a low murmur, difficult to make out even in the quiet room. “I tried with everything I had to kill you, Typhoon. I tried hard, harder than I ever fought before. And it was killing me inside.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t want to kill you.” Typhoon breathed quietly to herself, her hooves trembling. “I… I didn’t want to either. I hoped… hoped you would kill me first. I didn’t want your blood on my hooves, but I had to fight. I couldn’t let you do what you were going to do.” A flash of hurt streaked across Cyclone’s eyes. “I was wrong,” he quietly whispered to himself. “The Praetorians… Thunder Hawk and Rust Shot and so many others… they convinced me what I was doing was right. But I started this mess. I deserve nothing less than the fullest of punishment Cirra has to offer.” He gestured with a hoof at the medical equipment around him and the rudimentary bandages on his sides. “Why they bothered saving my life is beyond me. I should have died on the floor of River Rock’s throne room. That’s where I belong. A traitor’s death. I tried to overthrow two governments and failed.” He looked at his wing, which was tightly held against his side with a thick leather sling. “I can’t fly, not like this. When they hang me they won’t have to worry about binding my wings.” There was nothing Typhoon could say about that. She knew it to be true enough. Instead she asked him a simple question. “Have you spoken to mom? Or how about dad?” Cyclone visibly paled, even beneath his red fur. He held his forehooves together, rubbing the hard keratin against itself. “I— mom’s gone, Ty.” The words slammed the air out of Typhoon’s lungs and left her reeling. “Mom’s… d-dead?” It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Typhoon flashed back to the day she left Cloudsdale to investigate River Rock with Cyclone. Swift Spear’s worried face as they left, just the two of them, to a city full of hostile unicorns. How that was the last time she would ever see her alive, and she never knew it. The tears came streaming down her face, freely. She was too stunned to sob, and too weary to even bring her hooves to her cheeks and brush off the warm tears running down them. All she could do was lie there and shudder softly. “She died fighting the Praetorians I sent to apprehend her,” Cyclone was saying, almost to himself. “It’s my fault. All I’ve done is kill ponies who didn’t need to die. Nothing else has changed.” He looked over at Typhoon, his eyes also on the edge of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Typhoon only whimpered to herself, withdrawing slightly. “M-mommy...” she said quietly. Cyclone looked at her thin and wounded body as she shook. He saw her so often in her armor that it was hard to remember that even under all that, beneath the battles and the combat experience and her authority, she was barely eighteen. He wanted to go to her and drape a wing across her shoulders, telling her everything would be fine, but he couldn’t move. The pain in his body kept him down, and two thick, leather straps across his legs and abdomen kept him fastened to the bed. The medics had taken every precaution that he and Typhoon wouldn’t go at it in their weakened states while they weren’t around. Several minutes passed before the young mare finally collected herself enough to stop the tears. She sat there, sniffling, and staring out into space. Her eyes were haunted and hollow, and her lips still trembled. Without looking at Cyclone, she asked him, “And what about dad?” “Dad’s okay,” Cyclone was able to answer, relieved to be delivering some good news. “He rallied soldiers and put an end to… it all.” Sucking awkwardly on his cheek, Cyclone danced around the subject as best he could. “He was with mom when she died, and he found us when we were dying. He’s been asking every day how we’re both doing, or so the doctors tell me. They won’t let him see until we’re both better.” Typhoon breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s… good. When will that be?” Cyclone shrugged his shoulders. “Days, weeks maybe. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. I saw you when I first woke up… I didn’t think there was a way in hell you would survive that. There was so much blood.” “Yeah… right,” Typhoon said. “Thanks for that.” Pressing a hoof to her head, the mare suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded. “We both lost a lot of blood, sis,” Cyclone said. “Just take it easy and rest. You’ll be better in no time.” Typhoon nodded and slumped back deeper into the bed. “Hmmm… I think that’s a good idea…” Her eyelids were heavy, and when she blinked they were difficult to open. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she mustered her focus for one last thought. “Cyclone?” Her brother looked up from where he was also nodding off. “Yes, Typhoon?” “I… I’m just glad that I didn’t kill you. And no matter what happens, I love you.” Cyclone smiled softly as Typhoon’s eyes closed and she drifted back off to sleep. “I know, Ty. I know.” ----- Commander Hurricane hated trials. He had no patience for the arguing and bickering, or the jury and their deliberations, or the cunning machinations of slick lawyers keeping the guilty from justice. If it were up to him, he’d let the convicted give him their story and be judged by it, or give them a sword and let them defend their honor. Not make a whole song and dance of it. Unfortunately, Hurricane found himself in the dull position of presiding over the trials for the attempted coup. About a week had passed since then, and the soldiers he had sent off to the west were returning with barely enough food to keep the Compact Lands alive for the time being. Despite the continued snow outside, spring was coming, and the air temperature was inching up by a few degrees. With time, the permafrost covering the ground might begin to thaw, allowing food to be grown again. Regardless, Queen Platinum and Chancellor Puddinghead were working together to draw up plans for the exodus across the Narrow Strait, and soon enough food would no longer be an issue. There was the stomping of a hoof against wood, producing a clack clack clack as one of the lower judges dismissed a group of traitors to make way for the next. The sentence: death, like so many others before, and perhaps many more to come. Hurricane was glad there were three other judges under him that did most of the work while he simply presided over the hearings. They had been going at it for ten, almost eleven hours, with little breaks for short five minute recesses scattered about seemingly at random. Hurricane, like a bored bird, had started absentmindedly plucking feathers from his wings in the meantime, relapsing into his old habit of making sure they were perfect and spotless. He had to apologize once to one of the palace staff for making a mess around his chair when he got back from lunch. The next names read perked Hurricane’s ears for the first time in the past few hours. Coughing lightly, the mare reading off the names of convicted began to speak. “The Senate will begin the hearings for the war crimes of Imperator Cyclone, Praetorian Commander Thunder Hawk, Praetorian Commander Rust Shot, and Praetorian Lieutenant Steel Wing. They have been charged with treason, conspiring against the Legion, and the unlawful invasion and wanton destruction of unicorn territory in the capital city of River Rock. Praetorian Commander Thunder Hawk has been charged specifically with the murder of Imperator Primus Swift Spear. Imperator Cyclone has been charged with leading an army into River Rock, resulting in the deaths of thousands of unicorns, including the King, Lapis IV, father of Queen Platinum.” The four accused stood at their table, surrounded on all sides by angry and hissing Cirran senators. None of the four responded, instead staring directly ahead at the judges before them. Hurricane shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he felt Cyclone’s eyes find their way to his face. They were calm and remorseful, and filled with a sad acceptance of what was about to come. “The Senate lays the evidence against you,” the mare continued, a Legate by rank but court judge by trade. “You have been convicted of treason in its highest form and the murders of numerous military officials. Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The Praetorians were quiet; instead, they looked to Cyclone, expecting the younger stallion to speak for them. Stepping forward, Cyclone took a deep breath and let the air release from his lungs, slowly. Hurricane noticed his muzzle twitch in pain at the action; he had only been released from the hospital the day before, and only because the other Legates in charge of the trial were anxious to get it over with and fly west towards warmer lands. The leather sling holding his wing in place was still there, and some scars that he had nervously scratched at some time earlier were surrounded in dried blood. It still bothered Hurricane that the doctors and then the Legates had denied him from speaking with his son before the trial; in fact, it had taken the use of all of his authority to not let them force him to recuse himself from the day’s proceedings. Even if he did have to wait through a day’s worth of boredom, he wouldn’t let them attempt to sentence his son to death without him there. “I have little to say in our defense,” Cyclone began. His voice was so low and resolute it was difficult to make out in the courtroom. “There is nothing that can be said to change our fates, justly deserved as they may be.” The Legate squinted at Cyclone, obviously expecting a better argument than that. Around the room, the senators likewise narrowed their eyes and grumbled; they had come for a show, and in the end would get nothing. Hurricane fidgeted in his seat as he watched his son walk himself towards the gallows. “So you admit to your guilt?” the Legate asked, still incredulous. Cyclone’s only response was a single-degree tilt of his head down and back up. Frowning, the mare leaned forward. “You refuse to defend yourselves against your supposed crimes?” At this Cyclone scowled, and his free wing began to open in anger. “You were expecting a show? You were expecting me to fight to the end of this runaround? To struggle all I could to save myself from a fate I already know you have condemned me to?” “You have not been condemned to anything, Imperator—” “Bullshit!” Cyclone seethed. “Don’t play games with me, Legate. I can see it in your eyes, yours and the eyes of the rest of this damn Senate. You’ve already signed me off to the gallows. But I’m more than stallion enough to accept my fate when it’s given to me. It’s more honorable to die justly than to go down kicking and screaming like some foal. I will not twist myself and beg for my life just for you to hold it tantalizingly close before ripping it away. Give me my sentence and be done with it. I will entertain this Senate no longer.” The three judges below Hurricane looked at each other, confused. In the end, they had no choice but to nod to one another, and the Legate in the middle stood up. “Imperator Cyclone, Praetorian Commanders Thunder Hawk and Rust Shot, and Praetorian Lieutenant Steel Wing. With your admission of guilt to the crimes of treason and conspiracy laid before you and branded over your heads, the Senate of Twenty-Four sentences you to death. May Mobius judge your soul for your foul crimes and cast you off to where your honor deems you worthy. Your execution will take place a week from now, on—” “Stop!” Hurricane boomed from above. All the ponies in the room turned to look at him; it was, after all, the first time he had spoken during the proceedings almost all day. He stood with his forehooves braced on the polished wood and skysteel trimming of his desk, breathing heavily and angrily. “I will not condemn my only son to death.” The Legates turned around in their seats and raised their brows, aghast. “Commander,” the lead mare began, “Imperator Cyclone has admitted his guilt. He is a traitor, and the Legion demands that he pay the price.” Turning back to the room, the mare nodded her head and recited the Legion’s creed, which was echoed back to her by the many voices in the room. “Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem. The Imperator has forsaken the Legion, and for that, there will be nothing for him.” “I made a promise to my wife,” Hurricane bristled as tendrils of smoke began to drift from his wings. “I made a promise to her as she lay, dying in my arms, her blood pouring out across the floor. She knew that this was Cyclone’s fault, and she knew that it was because of him that she died…” Below, Cyclone visibly flinched and lowered his head, ashamed. “…but that didn’t matter to her. She demanded that I didn’t kill one of her children, one of our children. And I promised her that I would keep him alive.” An uneasy silence settled across the courtroom. Clearing her throat, the lead mare addressed Hurricane directly, saying, “You would let your son walk free without any repercussions, sir? Remember that you hold no direct authority over these proceedings. Your role here is ceremonial; the sentences are passed by us three and no others.” “I would not let him go unpunished,” Hurricane said. “I already know what will happen to him.” “And what, pray tell, is that, Commander?” Hurricane was quiet. He looked directly into Cyclone’s eyes, seeing the first glimmer of hope in them since he had walked into the room. “He will not be joining us during the exodus. He, and all his followers, will remain in River Rock, and pay back the damage they caused to those inhabitants who will wish to remain.” A murmur spread throughout the room as the senators whispered among themselves. Cyclone’s wing began to tremble, and it took all his self-control to not look around the room in anxiety. He couldn’t really tell how he felt about what his father was suggesting. The chance to live, which, despite his acceptance of an early death was still something he hoped for, but at the cost of being left behind? Would he ever see his family again? Would he live long enough to get that chance when surrounded by ponies who hated him for who he was and what he did? “Commander,” the Legate began, “who is to say that the other unicorns and earth ponies who remain will even want him there? They’ll just as quickly string him up and kill him as the Senate demands, and they’d be much more brutal than we would. You’re offering your son the worse of two identical outcomes.” Hurricane remained resolute, and his eyes glinted at the Legate. “We will let the other races decide his fate, then. I think you will find they’re not as unforgiving as you would believe them to be.” Looking off towards the window across from him, and the setting sun framed between its panes, he smiled softly to himself. “I learned that myself not too long ago.” The judges still remained dubious. “Commander…” The black stallion’s eyes snapped back to the Legate’s and narrowed into smoldering coals. “This is his sentence. If you try to interfere in any way, today will be the last time you will be sitting at that desk… or at anything, really.” A threat from Commander Hurricane was more akin to a prophecy than intimidating words, and the Legate turned around, trembling slightly. Standing up, she addressed the Senate. “Imperator Cyclone’s fate, and the fate of his companions, will be determined by the judiciary branches of the Low Valleys and the Diamond Kingdoms. At that time, their fates will become sealed. The Senate now brings this session of today’s trials to a close.” With a loud stomp of her hoof, the Legate dismissed Cyclone and the other ponies in the room. Gathering up their things, the senators left in groups, grumbling to each other about their disappointment with the day’s supposed ‘grand finale’. Even the judges were quick in leaving, eager to be away from the irate Commander. Eight Legionnaires approached Cyclone, leading him and his three companions away and back to their cells. As they left, Cyclone turned and looked at Hurricane one more time. His father’s smile calmed him more than any official pardon ever would have. ----- “Are you sure?” “We’ve shared our thoughts with her. But all we can do is advise; it’s up to the Queen to make the final call in the end.” “I wouldn’t go around calling Platinum that, yet. She’s still shaken by it all.” “Would this be a bad time to talk about—?” “Yes, it would be, Chancellor.” “How did you even know what I was going to say, Smart Cookie? Are you a wizard or something?” “No, I just know that the wrong things have a tendency to stream out of your mouth at the wrong time.” “They do not! Just because I was describing Platinum’s beautiful flanks that I got to stare at the entire walk home to a unicorn that just happened to be a diplomat to the Diamond Kingdom doesn’t mean—!” The door opened, diverting the attention of Smart Cookie, Puddinghead, and Clover from their conversation. In walked Queen Platinum, holding her crown of namesake metal at her side with her magic. Her eyes were sullen and her tail was slightly drooped, and whether or not she heard the subject matter of Puddinghead’s objections seemed to affect her little. As her three companions backed away to form a respectful semicircle around her, Platinum released a tense whistle of air and spun the crown in her telekinetic grasp. “Platinum, you’ve made your decision?” Clover asked, taking a few steps towards the white mare. Her attire was considerably upgraded for the event; no longer did she wear the rough spun rags and garments she was accustomed to. Instead, she wore an elegant yet practical set of robes that draped down to her knees, colored with blue satin and lined with white fur. Her braided green mane hung to one side of her head, its usual curls and general roundness somewhat straightened out to appear like something fashionable. A golden brooch encrusted with diamonds held the robes together at her neck. “Indeed I have,” Platinum darkly said as she stared down the hallway towards the bright light pouring in. Just beyond the light was the lowest balcony of Castle Burning Hearth; down below, thousands of ponies were gathered, waiting to hear the decision. Chanting and whistling filled the stone corridor like white noise, a part of the background as obscure and continuous as the faces of the stone bricks around the ponies inside. With a shudder, Platinum levitated the large crown onto her head, feeling the unnatural weight of the metal as compared to her lighter Princess’ headpiece, and began to walk forward. Clover turned and followed at her side, while Smart Cookie and Puddinghead walked together a small distance behind her. Squinting, the Queen stepped onto the balcony and was blasted by a wall of noise from the ponies below. Raising a hoof to her eyes to shield them from the bright gray light, she looked over the crowd. The plaza, which just over a week ago had been filled with bodies and stained with blood, was now jam packed with unicorns and earth ponies of all kinds and from all classes. Atop the surviving buildings around the square, several squads of Cirran Legionnaires watched the masses below, ready to intervene if the crowd became too unruly. On the ground, most of the survivors of the Diamond Guard walked about, instilling order in the ponies around them. The wooden structure directly beneath the balcony was what caught Platinum’s attention the most. There, surrounded by unicorn guards, stood four pegasi, each with their wings tied and their legs bound. A thick plank of wood supported between two poles towered above them. Swaying gently in the breeze, four heavy coils of rope tied into loops hung from the plank. A collapsible platform linked to a pull lever stood just beneath the nooses. Noticing the sudden uproar from the crowd, the lead pegasus, the one with the coat of blood, craned his neck upwards. When his eyes locked with Platinum’s, the Queen flinched and stepped back a foot. Calmly, the prisoner blinked at Platinum before lowering his neck back towards the crowd of ponies around him. Taking a breath to steady herself, Platinum once more approached the railing of the balcony. She let the crowd roar for a while, hoping to feed off of their energy and prepare herself to deliver the sentence. Then, raising a hoof into the air, she lowered the noise until she had silenced several thousand ponies with nothing more than a hoof. A chill ran down her spine. This power was surreal. She didn’t know whether she liked it or not. Her horn crackled to life in a wash of blue Arcana, and soon, Platinum’s magically-amplified voice rang out over the town square. “Ponies of the Diamond Kingdom and the Low Valleys; I, Queen Platinum, first of my name, stand here to pass judgment on the four ponies below. They were heavily involved in the coup d’état, responsible for the deaths of thousands, including Imperator Swift Spear, wife of Commander Maximus Hurricane of Cirra, and King Lapis, fourth of his name, during the invasion of River Rock, which is still so horribly fresh in our minds.” The crowds remained quiet as she spoke. It was unnerving. Political speech as the leader of the Kingdom still unsettled her; she hadn’t been in River Rock during the invasion, and hadn’t even known about it until she returned two days prior, yet she had to speak like she was there. She suddenly had a much deeper appreciation for her father and even for Commander Hurricane himself; it wasn’t easy being queen. With another prolonged breath through her pause, Platinum picked up her speech once more. “Commander Hurricane has offered these four ponies to the Diamond Kingdom for me to decide their fate; after all, it was our home which they attacked, not Amber Field or the Low Valleys.” Behind her, Chancellor Puddinghead frowned, but, to Smart Cookie’s relief, he refrained from saying anything or blowing raspberries at the Queen. Apparently he had managed to outgrow that on the journey to and from Equestria. “After spending a great deal of time in my quarters thinking,” Platinum resumed, “I eventually came to a conclusion. Some ponies deserve a second chance for their actions. Some ponies make truly terrible mistakes. Those mistakes can be small, or they can be large. Regardless, second chances are something I believe in, if the pony receiving it is worthy of another attempt at doing right.” The crowd began to murmur amongst itself. At this distance, Platinum couldn’t tell what their mood was, but it seemed sour. She couldn’t blame them, not after what they had been through. But she wasn’t finished yet. Clearing her throat, the white mare called out over the crowds again. “Even still, there are some acts that are nigh irreconcilable. Sometimes, the price is too high to buy a second chance. Sometimes, a second chance would not matter in the first place, because the pony is too far gone to be deserving of one. In such a case, it is our duty, the duty of the righteous, to ensure that justice be delivered swiftly and cleanly.” Narrowing her eyes, Platinum looked down at the group of pegasi below her. None of them shivered or fidgeted or pleaded for their lives; they were soldiers, trained to stand behind their wall of discipline and defend it to the end. Platinum marveled again at how a pony could train themselves to be so desensitized to everything happening around them, even when it concerned their own fate. “It is time that their sentence be delivered unto them, and by the sun and stars, let its ruling be true and forever upheld.” She could feel the tension building in the air as her subjects (and now they were truly her subjects) waited for her to deliver the sentence. Four ponies’ lives would be directly affected by what she would say next; even now, her doubts fought against each other, trying to tear the other apart and make Platinum choose their side. Buying time, the mare took a deep breath and looked out over the ponies around the edge of the square. Her eyes stopped on the face of one black pegasus clad in onyx armor. He stood on the roof of a burnt out building far across the plaza, one hoof resting on the remains of a chimney. His expression betrayed nothing, but Platinum knew he was watching and hanging on the decision she would deliver upon his son. Closing her eyes, Platinum made a quick prayer to the gods that her choice be the right one. When she opened them again, she forced all the doubt out of her voice as she delivered the sentence. “By the power of Celestis and Lunis, and by my own royal decree, I, Queen Platinum, first of my name of House Azurite, and in the presence of the Great Kings of Old, especially the Wise Five who founded the mighty Diamond Kingdom, hereby rule that the four accused… shall live.” There was a riotous roaring from the plaza, and the soldiers stationed around it braced themselves and nervously leaned towards their weapons. Screams of outrage echoed across the hollow buildings around the castle, and the surface of the mass of ponies rippled violently as some displayed their displeasure with angry hooves and stomping. “Enough!” Holding her hoof out, Platinum continued to order her subjects down with her magically enhanced voice. “Enough! Ponies of River Rock, please, listen! Listen!!” As Platinum stood her ground, the rioters slowly muted themselves into a smoldering anger. The slightest touch would set them off again, Platinum knew, so she began to appeal to them. “Are we noble unicorns and humble earth ponies, or Crystal barbarians?” she asked, letting her gaze sweep across the ponies present so that she could look as many of them in the eye as possible. “Do we call for blood when blood is spilt? Do we seek to mutilate ponies for their crimes? I tell you, we do not. “Some of you might be worried that we have incorrectly pardoned these soldiers for their actions, yet I see it as a chance for them to redeem themselves. Imperator Cyclone and his companions, along with many of his followers during the coup, have elected to stay behind in River Rock and offer protection to those of you staying behind. For you who have elected to journey west to the new lands, what does it matter if they live or die? You will not be seeing them ever again. For those of you who wish to remain, fear them not. Captain Chiseled Gem and several other officers of the Diamond Guard have volunteered to remain as well. They will be in charge of the day to day operations of River Rock, and they will keep the Imperator and his followers in line. Together, they will keep you safe from the monsters that even now prowl the snows, and together they will find a way for you all to survive. This, I promise you. Please, believe in them as I do.” Nodding to the silenced crowd one more time, Platinum nodded and lingered long enough to see the guards leading Cyclone and his followers away from the gallows and back into the castle. Looking upwards, she saw that the black pegasus on the rooftop had already disappeared. With a slight toss of her mane, Platinum waved goodbye and walked back into the castle with Clover at her side. Behind her, Chancellor Puddinghead and Representative Smart Cookie took to the balcony to discuss the plans for the journey west. As they approached the inner door leading back into the castle, the two unicorns saw Star Swirl the Bearded leaning against the wall. He was still wearing the bruises and scrapes and burns he had taken in the fight when he took on an entire company of Diamond Guards by himself, yet he looked as lively as ever, even if he was seventy-nine. “An excellent speech, your highness. Most befitting of a queen.” Smiling softly, he teased some hairs of his beard with a hoof. “You’ve already got your father’s charisma about you.” “Thank you,” Platinum said, politely nodding. “It’s good to see that you’re doing alright.” Star Swirl chuckled softly. “Of course. I may be old, but I can still tumble with the best of them.” “Not many ponies live to be eighty, and even fewer can sweep the halls of traitors at that age like you did. Now,” she said with a dip of her head, “I need to make my final preparations for the journey in a few days’ time. Clover, please come see me when you’re finished, darling.” With that, Platinum turned and left, walking through the doors beside them and disappearing down the stone halls. Clover and Star Swirl stood there for a long while after the door closed before saying anything. “Eighty, hmm? Do I really look that old?” Clover nearly choked on a giggle at the innocuous question. “It’s the beard, Teacher. And, to be fair, your birthday is in exactly seventeen days, four hours, and fifty-three minutes.” Star Swirl raised an eyebrow towards his apprentice. “It’s good to know somepony’s keeping track at least. But when you’re my age, Clover, you’ll understand. Every day that you’re still alive is another day you’ve been given to make something out of. Never just sit back and take life for granted; it’s one of the biggest mistakes a pony can make.” Clover smiled thoughtfully to herself. “You should come with us.” “Who, me? Have you seen me try to get around the castle, Clover? Why, I can barely walk!” The apprentice frowned, but then she remembered something. “Teacher?” “Hmm?” Fidgeting on her hooves, Clover asked, “Do you remember what you told me when I left?” Star Swirl stood thoughtful for a minute. Raising the pipe that was always present in his robes, he drew on it as he looked down the hall towards the light outside. “Yes, I do believe I remember.” “You said it yourself, Star Swirl,” Clover said, turning to stand face to face with the aging stallion. “You told me there was so much more out there that you couldn’t possibly teach me. Well, I’ve seen things that I’ve never heard of before, witnessed beauty in but a sliver of its forms, yet still vastly wider than what I had known just inside of River Rock.” Her eyes looked into his, soft and pleading. “You asked me to bring you back something to teach you what sorts of things there are outside of these city walls. But I don’t want to simply talk about what I found. I want to show you what I learned.” Her ears drooped, and she smiled sadly in remembrance of her journey. “The world is a beautiful place. It may be founded on hate, like you said, but also like you said, it is guided and shaped by love. Right now… we’re helping to guide it and shape it. I want you to help us too.” Star Swirl’s lips were first pensive, and he tapped a hoof against his chin. But then, with each passing second, the corners nudged themselves upwards in almost imperceptible spurts until he had a grandfatherly smile on his face. Reaching forward with his hoof, he tousled Clover’s mane and pulled her close. “Here I am, complaining that I’m too old to do these things, when a young mare reminds me that it’s never too old to see new sights and learn new lessons.” Clover looked up at Star Swirl, teary eyes wide like saucers. “Every day that you’re still alive is another day you’ve been given to make something out of.” Star Swirl chuckled. “And never just sit back and take life for granted; it’s one of the biggest mistakes a pony can make.” Placing her head against the old stallion’s chest, Clover whispered softly, “So you’ll come with me? With us all?” A single tear crept down Star Swirl’s cheek. His words were so soft that Clover didn’t hear them when he whispered to himself. “I will, Clover dear. Anything for my granddaughter.” ----- The wind swept across the icy bluff, scattering snow and frost into the air. It swirled about on small currents, tumbling end over end, before dashing itself into the feathers of the four pegasi standing there, silent. They were in a line, standing next to a square of cleared ground, looking towards the rising sun as it framed the flat stone in front of them with gold. Other than the wind, it was a nice and quiet morning. The air was warm for the late winter, a few degrees above freezing. To the four weary pegasi standing there, it felt like a midsummer’s morning. Three of them stood fully clad in armor, one of which had a red cloak draped over his left shoulder. The fourth pegasus was finely robed in ceremonial garments and a simple golden cuirass, and she stood next to the pegasus with the cloak. None of them spoke until their shadows finally began to retreat towards their hooves. “She was a good pony,” Twister murmured as she stood next to her brother. Her ceremonial robes fluttered in the breeze, and she shifted a hoof to hold them down tighter. “I’m proud to have known her. She was like a sister to me.” “That she was,” Hurricane mumbled softly. “Kind, friendly, and loyal. An angel among ponies. Soft eyes that cared, tender caresses from a loving hoof, and a passionate energy unlike anything else I’ve ever seen. She was truly one of a kind. From high to low, she was with me…” He stopped, grimacing as he fought back a sob, “…and she’s gone. Like writing on sand, the winds of time have carried her away. Just as they will lead us onwards, to the west.” Taking a deep breath, Hurricane hung his head, his mind wandering back to happier times. Twister draped a wing across his back, and the two stood there, shoulder to shoulder, as they mourned. To their left, Cyclone and Typhoon stood next to each other, wings brushing lightly. Typhoon was still shaky on her hooves, having been released from the hospital only the day before. Next to her, her brother also trembled, hearing the sentence the ponies who would stay in River Rock gave him just a few days ago. Now, in the presence of their mother for the first time since the coup, both were struggling to not break down into teary messes. Resting her head on Cyclone’s chest, Typhoon let silent tears run down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything; there was nothing that needed to be said. Instead, she just wept. Her wings fell to the ground, brushing the snow ever so lightly, making light patterns as her feathers shifted the crystals. Cyclone placed a hoof around his sister’s back, rubbing her shoulders and comforting her as his own eyes filled with sparkling tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and either to himself or to Typhoon or to Swift Spear in the ground, not even he himself had an idea. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. Please forgive me.” Even if the words weren’t spoken to her, Typhoon nodded her head and spoke softly into Cyclone’s chest. “I do, Cy. I… I already have.” Somewhat relieved, Cyclone pulled his sister closer for a bigger hug. The two nuzzled each other’s necks, shaking with repressed tears and emotion. “Thank you,” the older of the two said, running a hoof through Typhoon’s mane. Nodding to Twister, Hurricane stepped forward until he was standing at the very foot of Swift Spear’s grave. With several deep breaths, he steadied himself for the words and prayer to come next. “Swift Spear, child of Strigon and all the other gods above, living on the plane that He himself has shaped, and will shape again at the end of time; you go to the grave not with the curse of a sellsword or the hollow death of a thief or rogue, but with the highest honor that one can give; the honor of death on the battlefield, fighting to defend one’s home, one’s family, and one’s nation. In the service of the Legion, and all the pegasi of Cirra, before the divine light of Mobius himself, we pray that your soul may find its way to the east, to the rising sun, and the Great Skies from which the new light is born again every day. Your honor has been unyielding, and as best as you could, you have lived by the code of Mobius, adhering to the tenants of honor and justice with all the effort a pony could muster. Garuda beckons for you to come to his Skies and live in peace. Go now, and leave the pain of the world behind. Let your wings guide you to the Skies above, and may your wake leave a trail for those who loved you, and still love you, to follow you into the Dawn, when the Dusk of their time comes.” Reaching into a small pouch under the lightning bolt in his armor, Hurricane withdrew a single, blond feather. Holding the stem gingerly between his teeth, he examined the vane and the bristles on the thing. Then, with a flutter of his wings, the black stallion flew upwards a few feet before he released the feather into the wind. It twirled in the sky several times and darted back and forth, passing before Hurricane’s eyes for one more time before the winds took it away. Then it was little more than a light shadow skirting across the land, until it finally flew up and out of sight. Hurricane watched it go, and when it finally disappeared, he turned away from Swift Spear’s grave and walked a short distance to the west. Over the cliff, he could see the wagons and carts of thousands of ponies trekking through the valley just to the south of Cloudsdale. In the distance, the stream of earth ponies met up with another line of unicorns leaving from River Rock. Together, they formed a line of ponies that steadily trickled towards the western mountains, the summits known as the Western Teeth, and the promised land beyond them. “It will be a solid week before the first of that line make it across the Narrow Strait,” Hurricane said. “From there, another week until they get to the settlement established there. What was it that Clover said it was named? Everfree?” He shrugged his shoulders to himself. “I’m sure quite a few will just stop at the coast. Granted, the land isn’t as fertile as Everfree, but the greenery will do wonders for the mind.” “And you and Platinum and Puddinghead already have begun organizing this ‘Equestria’ nation?” Twister asked from his side. Hurricane nodded. “No longer three separate tribes, but united under one banner. Equestria, home of the ever-free. Never again shall we let our hatreds consume and enslave us. We will find some way to live together, no matter the cost.” Typhoon stepped up to her father’s side and looked at him, her eyes sparkling with determination through the tears drying on her face. “I will stand by you until the end, Dad. Together, we’ll honor Mom and make sure that we never have to run again. We’ll make this new place our home, and I’ll defend it to the death.” “Thank you,” Hurricane breathed to his daughter. Then, smiling, “We’ll have our work cut out for us, no doubt.” “Work is better than the cold. We’ll be fine.” “And I’ll do my best here,” Cyclone said from a distance. The three ponies standing on the cliff’s edge turned to look at him. He glanced away, uneasy, saying, “the ponies of River Rock spared me my life, however reluctant they might have been to back Queen Platinum’s decision. I’ll make it up to them by keeping them alive, and doing everything I can to find some way to end this damnable blizzard.” Trotting forward, Hurricane wrapped his wings around his son in a warm embrace. Cyclone stiffened at first, but he soon relaxed as Hurricane held him closer. “I know you will, son. And while I still can’t forget what you did while I was gone, I forgive you, and in a sense, I’m proud of you. You realized your mistakes, and you’re making up for them in the end. I know that you have what it takes to survive out here with what little the land has left for you.” Cyclone sniffled. “T-Thanks, Dad. It… it means a lot to me.” Hurricane gave his son one tighter squeeze before letting go. “You’re my son; always have been, always will be. And by that simple fact alone, regardless of what you have done or what you will ever do, I love you. And no matter what happens, always know that. There are few things absolutely certain in the world; this is one of them.” “Thank you,” Cyclone said again. “And I never will forget you. Even if we never see each other again, I’ll keep you close to my heart.” Smiling, Hurricane nodded to Cyclone. “As will I. One day, we will see each other again. I look forward to that time. And I wish you the best of luck, Cyclone. I know you won’t let me down.” Then turning away, Hurricane spread his wings and took flight. Twister smiled at Cyclone and waved a wing before following him, leaving just Typhoon on the cliff side with her brother. Walking closer, the two siblings embraced one last time. “Don’t make me have to come back and beat your ass again,” Typhoon said to him, smiling. Cyclone shook his head. “Only because I loved you, sis. You wouldn’t have lasted that long otherwise.” But still, his face was bright and cheery, happy that they could joke about trying to kill each other barely two weeks prior. They laughed quietly together for a few seconds before Typhoon squeezed Cyclone tighter. “Be safe out here. I’ll make sure to see you on your birthday. You’ll be twenty-one this year, right?” Cyclone chuckled. “That I will be. Damn, I’m feeling old. Know that I’ll be wishing you a happy one as well whenever yours rolls around.” Holding out his left wing, which was free of the sling but still bent slightly with crooked feathers, he sadly laughed. “Otherwise I would fly there and visit you myself.” Typhoon nodded, feeling a twinge of remorse for robbing Cyclone of his flight. “I will, Cy. I will.” They stood there in silence for a few seconds longer, enjoying each other’s company, before Typhoon’s ears perked at the sound of her name being called. Sighing, she broke off the embrace and stepped back. “You’re in my heart, always, brother.” “As are you, Ty.” Smiling, Typhoon stepped towards the cliff and spread her wings. Shaking them free of snow, she looked over her shoulder one last time at Cyclone before leaping over the edge. After a few-second delay, Cyclone could see her rising in the distance to where the rest of his family waited. Together, the three pegasi flew off towards a larger cloud of Cirrans, as the city of Cloudsdale slowly trailed along behind them, riding the winds westward. Walking towards the edge of the cliff, Cyclone sat down and watched the ponies stream by. He watched earth ponies and unicorns alike shuffle across the ground below. Here or there he could see a company of Legionnaires providing over watch and assistance to those below. But that interested him little; he turned his eyes back towards his distant family, watching them fly on, until they became smaller and smaller specks in the distance. The hum started low and quiet, like a mournful sound, but it soon picked up. As Cyclone quietly hummed to himself, the noise of the rest of the world faded away. Soon, it was only himself and the song his mother had sung to him, long, long ago, when he was just a colt who couldn’t get to sleep. It was a sad lullaby, and even as he hummed it, he could hear Swift Spear herself singing to him from the heavens above. The journey begins Starts from within Things that I need to know   The song of the bird Echoed in words Flying for the need to fly   Thoughts endless in flight Day turns to night Questions you ask your soul   Which way do I go? How fast is too slow? The journey has its time then ends   If a horse can fly over an ocean And no mountains can get in his way Will he fly on forever? Searching for something to believe   From above I can see from the heavens Down below see the storm raging on And somewhere in the answer There is a hope to carry on   When I finally return Things that I learn Carry me back to home   The thoughts that I feed Planting a seed With time will begin to grow   The more that I try The more that I fly The answer in itself will be there --The End-- > Author's Notes > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 226,833 words. That’s how long this story was. Wow. When I first started this project way back in January, I knew I wanted it to be even bigger and better than Of Skies Long Forgotten. Yet even I didn’t think that the story would become this large, this intricate, this... passionate would be an apt word to describe it.  For seven, almost eight months, this story has been my passion. I’ve poured countless hours into making it work, trying to write the best I’ve ever written, trying to show myself how far I’ve come from OSLF. I would fall asleep thinking about what I needed to do next and wake up itching to put my thoughts down to paper. And boy, am I glad it’s over. That may sound cynical, but I mean that in the most loving and heartfelt way to Snow and Shadows as I possibly can. I poured my life into this story, the characters, the settings, and the story itself. S&S is a part of me just as much as I’m sure it’s a part of many of you. I’ve worked for eight months to make this story perfect, and you know what? It has its flaws, but this is the most proud I’ve ever been of anything I’ve made, ever. And while I’m sad it’s over, I’m also happy to move on. S&S has done her work for you all, just as I’ve done mine. It’s time for us to both rest now. I gave this story the most beautiful and fitting conclusion I feel like I could possibly give to it, and looking back now, I wouldn’t change a thing. Who cares if it’s not posted in the feature box or has several thousand favorites and likes? I wrote something special to me, truly, truly special. The joy I’ve gotten from writing this story, and the joy it brings you all to see it updated, is what really touches my heart. And now it’s over. Believe me when I say I was riding with you guys the whole way through. Authors can seem evil or cruel when they kill off characters, but I was right there suffering alongside you as well when I killed Swift Spear. I will have you know that several times during the last handful of chapters I was nearly in tears myself while writing. I secretly wished to myself that I wouldn’t have to kill Swift, and I managed to persuade myself out of killing Pan Sea or Twister or Typhoon or Cyclone. Yes, those characters were seriously in danger of dying when I got to their points of no return. For Twister, this is the second time she’s been laid down on the guillotine only for the machinery to choke up before taking her head. I’m dead serious about that one. She was supposed to die back in OSLF but didn’t. Perhaps because I love my characters so much is why I’m able to build such powerful scenes whenever something bad happens to them. There is no character that I outright hate writing for; I used to think Chancellor Puddinghead fit that role, but about halfway through the story, two chapters before Onyx Ridge, I changed my mind. I recognized him for the lovable oaf that he actually is. His dialogue became witty and entertaining, and I really developed the chemistry between him and Smart Cookie through Onyx Ridge and beyond. I apologize if this seems like I’m rambling. It’s late at night, I just finished Chapter 19, and it’s hard to think straight with the depression still rolling inside my skull after closing out the story for good. Anyways, I suppose I should say a few things to the people who helped build this story with their support and advice. First and foremost, this wouldn’t be possible without the support of my brother, TheBigStallowski, even if I did want to punch him in the face several times whenever he asked me “when’s the next chapter coming out?” If you ever want to know why a character suddenly dies, blame him. I can’t be held responsible for what I do when I’m agitated. Next I would like to thank LoyalLiar, whose support for Snow and Shadows from beginning to end has been integral in keeping the project afloat. Being able to bounce ideas off of someone who actually has an investment in the story beyond just liking the material is immensely helpful. He’s helped me out of a few writing jams before, and given me several ideas for how the story should progress whenever I start to wander and lose sight of what I want to do with some characters (Twilight and Rainbow Dash especially). Also, another plug, but check out the Price of Loyalty and his stories, and join the group. I can’t say this enough, but I’m writing the history of his stories just as he’s providing the source material for what’s going on in “present day” Equestria that I referenced for Twilight and Rainbow Dash during their scenes. Even if we don’t make each other’s stories required reading to know what’s going on, we’re in a partnership, and we damn well will be for a long time to come. So if you haven’t read his stuff, do so when you’re done. You’ll be able to pick out nice little references we make between our respective works. After Loyal, I would like to thank Ruirik for being so kind enough to draw pictures of my characters, both from OSLF and S&S (coming soon to a blog post near you). He, like Loyal, has also helped me with generating scene progression and content for some of the chapters in the story. The characters Pathfinder and Iron Rain are his, and I helped introduce them for a project he’s working on and will release when he FINALLY FINISHES FIRE AND RAIN. Ahem. Sorry about that. There was no need to shout. Anyway, I won’t spoil the title of his story that he’s working on, but look forward to seeing a totally new side of everything I’ve written so far, from the Red Cloud War in OSLF to the Eternal Blizzard in S&S and beyond. I know I am. Lastly, I would like to thank all of you, the people who have favorited, liked, and/or commented on the story. You don’t understand how much it means to me to see how you’re enjoying the story, and to discuss with some of you what you think is going on or simply your thoughts about what I’ve written. Truth be told, I wouldn’t be writing if you guys didn’t show your support. You might think that you’re going to make a dumb comment or something and it’s going to offend me, but unless you’re being blatantly rude to me personally or trashing on my work with no justifiable explanation, I enjoy reading what you type out from across the nation, hell, even the globe itself. Let it be known that I read every one of your comments, and take each and every one of them to heart. Seeing what you guys think of my story keeps me writing on and on and on. I can’t thank you all enough for that motivation. Now that the thank-yous are aside, I believe it’s time to talk a little bit about what’s happening next. First off, I’m going to be releasing another story before I get to the finale of the Commander Hurricane trilogy. It has nothing to do with Commander Hurricane, and as such, it deserves to be covered in a blog post instead of a story it’s unrelated to. However, I will drop a name here: A Rainbow of a Different Color. While I’m working on that story, I will be simultaneously writing the third installment of the trilogy. You didn’t think this story would end with the show, did you? There’s still much more to be covered in the first years of the new and vulnerable nation of Equestria that rounds out Commander Hurricane’s story. There are still conflicts to be fought and loved ones to be lost, and I will be working as hard as I can to make it a fitting conclusion to the trilogy. It will be titled The Summer Lands, and if any of you have read LoyalLiar’s works and know what the Summer Lands are, then you know already how this story is likely to end. After all, none of my stories ever have a truly happy ending, and you should never expect them to. That just isn’t how I write. But I’ll be damned if I don’t make it a good one. That’s it. Once again, I cannot thank you all enough for all your support and everything you’ve done to help me write such a wonderful story for you all to enjoy. I look forward to seeing you all again on my later works. Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem -The 24th Pegasus “...But what about Twilight and Rainbow Dash?” Okay, you caught me. Yes, there’s still a little bit left to do in Snow and Shadows. But that won’t be posted until the first chapter of The Summer Lands is ready. So you have that to look forward to, and it’ll serve as a notification to those of you who aren’t following me when the next story is out. So, see you then! P.S. It’s also my 19th birthday in exactly three days (August 22nd). I’ll be damned if I don’t get any cake or birthday wishes from you all. > Epilogue: Castle Black > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Epilogue: Castle Black A metallic clang echoed off of stone walls. Something heavy shook in response, followed by a solid thwack. The hissing of dust and ash dropping from cracks in the bricks filled in the void between impacts, and then, for a brief moment, everything became quiet again. With the painful grinding of ancient and frozen metal, the halls shook with noise again. Ice splintered off of ancient hinges as a pair of massive doors creaked open. A sliver of gray light, as blinding as the sun in the complete darkness, pierced through the veil of dust and shadows inside of Castle Black for the first time in millennia. Twilight stuck her head in first, sweat running down her forehead for brief seconds before it simply froze to her fur and muzzle. She drew her heavy winter coat tighter around herself and carefully stepped inside. Rainbow Dash hesitantly followed her friend with the edges of her wings angled outwards in worry. The two rebels, Safe Haven and Yóumín, entered last, with the prowling tigress taking up the rear. Bracing themselves against the doors, the four intruders forced the doors open a little wider. The dull gray that passed for ‘light’ in Stalliongrad flooded into the crypt that was Castle Black. “Creepy…” Rainbow Dash muttered as she looked around. Ghostly banners of ancient silk and gold hung limply from the ceiling, torn with holes and chewed up by fires long since extinguished. As she walked along, Rainbow accidentally brushed into one, yelping in alarm as if some specter had tried to grab her shoulder. The banner came apart easily as she jumped away, the silk dissolving into dust before her eyes. “Wow!” Twilight whispered, her eyes glittering with excitement. “Would you look at everything? This place feels like it’s been preserved for thousands of years!” She bounced a few inches off the ground, her hooves crunching the ancient dust and ash every time they hit the ground. “We’re standing in something that’s been untouched since the age of Star Swirl the Bearded!” Reaching into his saddlebag, Safe Haven fumbled with numb hooves for a few seconds before pulling out some torches. “How about we light it up so we can see a little bit better,” he suggested. He hoofed over the torches to Yóumín, who grasped them in one paw and held them up to the stone bricks. With her other paw, she extended her claws and scraped across the stone, creating a shower of twinkling sparks that set the torches ablaze. She then passed the three lit torches back to Haven and began to prowl ahead, her tail swishing back and forth behind her. “Uh, don’t you need one?” Rainbow asked as she clenched a torch between her teeth and began to walk. Yóumín shook her head. “Unlike ponies, we tigers can see perfectly fine in the dark.” Twilight began to walk forward as well, instinctively clutching at the torch with her magic before wincing sharply and collapsing against the wall. “Right…” she grunted to herself. “Void dust.” After recollecting her breath, she turned to where Rainbow was anxiously watching her and waved her hoof. Stumbling down the hall, she made it over to Safe Haven and grabbed the torch he held ready for her. Together, the three ponies walked down the dark corridors, trailing Yóumín’s black and orange pelt. They advanced together in silence, taking in glimpses of the shadowy scenery decorating the castle. At some places along the hall it was easy to tell that the bricks were actually gray, not black, but the thickness of the ash covering the rest of them cared little. The farther into the castle they delved, the more signs of a fire they saw: half-burnt books, blackened beams of wood, heavy piles of ash, and warped metalwork. Twilight was so preoccupied with taking in all the details she could that she missed the pile of blackened bones until she tripped and fell right into them. “Oof!” she gasped as she slammed her shoulder into the bones underneath her. They cracked and splintered into tiny gray and black fragments which rattled across the stone floor. When she opened her eyes, Twilight could see an ancient femur rolling away from her, clattering until it came to a stop by Safe Haven’s hoof. “Are you alright?” he asked as he hooked a hoof under her foreleg and pulled her up. Twilight blinked her eyes several times to clear the dust out of them and spat out the granules of bone meal that had made it into her mouth. They left an acrid, gritty taste behind, like a combination of ash, sand, and spider webs. “I’m fine,” she answered him when she finally stopped gagging on the taste. The entire left half of her body and winter coat was covered in tiny shards of bone and flakes of ash. Grimacing, she tried wiping them off to little success. “Yeesh,” Rainbow Dash said as she walked over to the bones. She could see half of a skull staring at her with empty eye sockets, its teeth and brittle jaw open and hungering for flesh. “Whoever burnt this place out didn’t really clean up after themselves, did they?” “That they did not,” came a voice inches away from Rainbow Dash’s ear. The pegasus squeaked and jumped to the side, hugging Safe Haven for dear life. Turning her head, she saw Yóumín standing next to her, amusement stretching across her face from whisker to whisker. Smiling sheepishly, she let go of Safe Haven and dropped back between him and the tigress, trying to calm her racing heart. Haven cleared his throat and looked further down the hall. “Let’s get going again, then. The sooner we’re done with this little field trip, the better.” Placing a hoof on Twilight’s back, he ushered her down the hall. “I shall try and give you more warning next time,” Yóumín said as she passed by Rainbow Dash. She flicked the pony’s ear with her tail, leaving the pegasus behind. Rainbow quickly galloped forward so that she was back with the rest of the group, shaking her head as she went. They soon entered what must have once been the grand hall. Twilight found herself imagining it as the home of grand feasts, roaring fires, and plentiful company. Now, however, it was home to frozen hearths and barren tables, dead banners and dead bodies. Several pony skeletons lied slumped over in their seats or across the floor. Occasionally, the group spotted a pegasus skeleton still clad in ancient Cirran armor, but those were few and far between. By the time they made it to the center of the hall, Twilight was practically bursting at the seams, itching to rush over and document everything. “Calm down, Twi,” Rainbow said as she steadied her friend with a hoof. “One thing at a time. We don’t wanna go falling into any more skeletons, despite how funny that might have been for some of us.” Twilight spared barely a millisecond to glare at Rainbow before trotting over towards one of the armor-clad skeletons. “Look at this, Rainbow! It’s Cirran armor, completely intact and everything! Why, this is in even better condition that most of the armors I see in museums! You could almost fight in this, if it weren’t such a valuable relic.” “It looks pretty swanky,” Rainbow said as she walked over to Twilight’s side. With a hoof, she poked at the metal, feeling its chill yet also its strength as well. There was hardly a speck of rust on the skysteel, and even the wingblades still clung to the skeleton’s bony crests. It was strong steel, and undamaged, too. A splintered arrow wedged in the vertebrae of its neck was all that remained of the wound that had killed it. Rainbow had the urge to try on the helmet, but she eventually pushed it away as Twilight lost interest and went to some other find. Looking around, Rainbow walked towards one of the tables. Yóumín and Safe Haven were talking in Stalliongradi off to the side as they examined a surprisingly intact tapestry. Twilight was busy collecting samples of bone and ash in a plastic bag she had produced from somewhere. Yawning slightly, Rainbow set her hooves down on the table and looked lazily over a charred pile of books in front of her. Brushing the ash off of the bench underneath her with her tail, Rainbow sat down and pulled one of the books over to her. Opening it, she winced at the splintery crack of dried parchment splitting in two. Much more carefully this time, she used the primaries of her wings to gently nudge the pages open one at a time. Most of the ink was faded and unreadable, and the symbols that weren’t didn’t make much sense to her. Grumbling, she set the book aside and pulled out another one, only to be greeted with the same result. She was just about to abandon the search when she saw something red sticking out of the side of the book on the bottom. Raising an eyebrow, she pushed aside the other books on top of it and pulled it closer to herself. The binding was strong and the pages sturdy; already she could tell it was in much better condition than the books on top of it. Locating the red thing, she opened the cover to the page, and gasped when not one, but two feathers fell out. One was red as blood and slightly frayed with age. The other was a creamy blond and smaller, though its edges were smooth and crisp. “Uhh… Twilight?” she called, unable to take her eyes away from the feathers. “I think I found something… again.” The hurried clopping of hooves on stone brought Twilight over in a matter of seconds. “What did you find, Rainbow? More…” she stopped as she saw the feathers Rainbow had in front of her. “…feathers?” Picking the feathers up with a hoof, she held them to what little light there was to examine them carefully. Soon enough, her eyes widened and widened until Rainbow was sure she was going to blind herself somehow. “Twilight? What is it?” “These are…” she gently set them aside and reached for the book, which Rainbow gave to her. She gently nosed the pages around, and Rainbow could see her eyes sliding back and forth as she read the pages. “Incredible.” “Mind filling me in?” Rainbow asked, turning around in her seat so she could face Twilight directly. Twilight cleared her throat and began to read off of the page: “By writing these words, we hope that we can honor the spirit of our father, and remember him in the way that he truly was, not in the way that Celeste and Lūn wish to remember him. Long after we die and the world moves on, what really happened will have been forgotten to time, but as long as this last piece of evidence remains, the truth can still be separated from history’s ‘truth’. May our father, Hurricane, the only Commander Maximus of Cirra, rest in peace, knowing that we remember him and, through us, others may as well. Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem. Commander Typhoon and Commander Cyclone."