Scipio lashed out with his spear and was satisfied to see one of the depraved creatures that had once been his brethren die beneath his blow. These abominations that were like Griffons but utterly unlike them engendered both a deep disgust and a profound pity in Scipio’s heart. What madness had possessed the Dark Sun to create such creatures he did not know, but he was certain she was taking vengeance for the end of things, and they had already destroyed several of the tainted cider carts in their inexorable march onto the bridge. He was not certain how things were going elsewhere, but the tidal wave of lightning the other Crusaders had brought had been very destructive to the enemy. He was certain of that. At this rate, they would eventually sandwich the shadow in the middle of the bridge, and it would be all over but the slaughter.

Except then… his eye caught a flash of metal and heard a ruckus far beyond the front lines. Some of the rearwardly deployed enemies were turning around, and advancing in the other direction. Had there been a breakthrough, or… No. They were forming up a secondary line, and preparing for something. And then… there. A flash of orange coat, the sight of the purple uniformed pegasi diving and striking at a small form.

His heart went cold. Scootaloo.

And in the same moment, his heart lit aflame, and he tightened his grip upon his war spear as Scootaloo’s form came to a scrambling halt, unable to find a way around the Shadow Soldiers closing in around her. Something had clearly happened, and though Scipio did not know what, he did know he would not be idle. But to help her…

There came a time in every battle such as this, that a commander had to decide between pressing on and damning the losses, or accepting what gains they had achieved and withdrawing for a further battle. Damnit. If she falls, all of this will have been for naught anyhow. The choice was easy. The caravan had been utterly wrecked, the enemy forces badly bloodied, and a vast amount of information on how their enemy fought and their composition had been gained.

Scootaloo’s life was worth more than any further gains. “PRAETORIANS!” he called out, his voice thundering across the bridge and behind him, and as one the glittering armored griffons around him came to tense attention. “TO THE CRUSADER!” he proclaimed, brandishing his spear forward. All at once, the Praetorian Guard unlocked their shields in a single wave of steel, and as one they went from a grinding line of defense to a wave of bodies, spears, and shields.

It was like watching a wave crest in the sea - as those griffons behind him lifted up upon their wings and crashed over the more exhausted griffons in the front lines. The enemy nearly collapsed under the weight of the attack as Scipio himself spun through the first line of enemy, spinning his spear around and reaping the lives of his foes with tip and steel haft alike.

But it was a long way from where he stood to the Crusader, and he could not wait for the practiced attack of his fellow soldiers to reach her in time. So he ploughed ahead, driving his spear into the body of an abomination before slamming his shield into the face of one of the enemy pegasi. He spun under an incoming blow and deflected another with his returning shield, the sound of screaming metal scraping against it: a counterpoint to his dance.

Yet with every step he took, the Crusader was in greater and greater danger, using her own shield to protect herself yet unable to fully escape harm as blows rained down upon her… and their intentions became clear. They were going to take her and corrupt her as one of them. And that… that, Scipio would not allow. His blood boiled in rage and his spear shone with an inner power from an age long forgotten. He swept the haft of the solid steel shaft into his foes, breaking bones and slashing through armor as he tried desperately to punch through the enemy.

But his foes had realized the intention of his desperate charge, and they piled themselves more and more thickly in front of him, disregarding casualties and tactics to slow him down. The hive mind of the Shadow made it clear that the capture of the Crusader would be worth the loss of life, if only they could ensure he would not reach her in time.

Scipio felt fear enter his heart as he saw the little filly finally go limp and screamed a wordless cry of denial at his enemies. And then… a dark grey blur, out of the sky. The peal of thunder and a blast of air and wind.

And Scipio felt hope rekindle in his heart.

Thunderlane had always been a brash kind of pony. He didn’t believe in showing fear or getting worked up about things that were scary. He wanted to be a big, tough stallion so he could be a good influence for his little brother. And even after the Shadow had upended his world, his desire to give his brother something to look up to hadn’t wavered a bit.

Enter one Scootaloo, and everything she had done in the past few months. How she’d kept them together, how she’d led them into battle and inspired every last one of them to heights most of them didn’t know they had. It hadn’t taken much thought on his part then, when he saw that little orange filly cornered and in trouble, to decide that somepony had to sweep in and save the day… even if he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be getting out of it unscathed.

He didn’t have much lightning power left in his cloud, but he would have enough to give her breathing room and get her out of there. So he drove the thing down in a near perfect dive, and twenty feet above where the stupid bad-guys had her, he unleashed the last of his cloud’s power onto the enemy before bursting right through the cloud itself to deliver a killer kick right into the head of the leering griffon-pony thing that was looming over her.

He landed with a hard thud, and not far away he could see that griffon bad-flank himself, Scipio, beating his way through an army to get to her too. Good, somepony who could extract her. He swept up the little filly and prepared to take off… only to feel a searing pain in his wing from nowhere, as one of those damned Shadowbolts took a swipe and damaged his wing.

He grunted in pain, but simply took off on his hooves, shouldering through the ponies as hard as he could and triyimg to get close enough to Scipio. Another blow struck across his back, but there was no way a tough stallion like him was going to let something like that slow him down. Even though it… really hurt. What mattered was getting Scoots to safety, and a few steps later he was right in front of the griffon bad flank himself. “Take her!” he said in a voice that was way weaker than it should have been.

Scipio took the little filly into his talons and gave Thunderlane a searching look as he swept his spear into an oncoming enemy - the rest of those who had sought to stop them now being driven back by a tidal wave of other griffons. “You must come with us, Thunderlane. You’re badly hurt,” Scipio said firmly, even as he cradled Scootaloo close to him.

Thunderlane shook his head and would have spoken… if every instinct he ever had about weather hadn’t screamed at him from above his head. From somewhere, a storm cloud had been stolen from one of his Wrecking Crew, and whoever was driving the damn thing was good. They released every bit of lightning energy still in the cloud, and in that moment Thunderlane moved.

All pegasi could control lightning to some extent... but Thunderlane was one of the best in the entire business. But with all this metal around, controlling it without hurting somepony would have been impossible. His mind reacted fast, performing the weather control action he had done so often before. The bolt seared through the air toward Scootaloo and Scipio, and Thunderlane felt his wings flare out as he pulled hard on the power and right into himself, the only possible safe target nearby.

The world went white with a searing pain as his body hit the ground in a smoking and charred mess. He stared dazedly into the sky, wondering if he'd managed to save them until the face of Scipio poked into view, with Scootaloo clutched close and safely to his armor. Thunderlane's mind was almost completely paralyzed as he gazed up into the pitying… and respect filled gaze of Scipio. “Get… her… outta… here,” was all he could wheeze out, realizing the sharp pain in his chest meant there wasn't going to be any getting out of this one for him. Scipio nodded once and vanished from his sight.

Thunderlane had always been a brash kind of pony, and even as he felt the sharp pain in his chest growing into the signs that his heart had stopped, he knew he’d done the right thing. For Rumble, for Equestria, and for himself. As he felt the warmth fade from his chest, the pain replaced by a slow and inky blackness that seemed to swallow up the world, he only hoped his little brother could be every inch the tough stallion he’d tried to teach him how to be… And that the fire Scootaloo had lit in them all would grow all the stronger for it.

As the light faded from his view, the words of Scipio pierced his consciousness… the last words he would ever hear.

“Praetorians, retreat!”

Winterlight grunted in pain as the white bandages were tightened around her wounds, her armor having been discarded in the bed of a cart as the sounds of the fighting grew more and more intense on the bridge. “Tell those fuckers… execute emergency plan… B,” she panted at the Shadowbolt next to her, who saluted and disappeared into the shadows. Rainbow Dash had gone after the stupid Knight, and Winterlight could only hope she’d capture her. She had bigger things to deal with.

The stupid Ki-Lin had jumped off the bridge shortly after the filly had escaped and swept off into the skies on batwings, rejoining her kin on the north end of the bridge where the fighting had gone far better than at the south. Her forces were finally pushing out from the bridge mouth, and soon they’d have a clear line of retreat. Word had already reached her from the south that the griffons were pulling a fighting retreat...

The entire mission was bullshit, but she’d preserved the core of her forces and at least some of her cargo had reportedly survived. So she shoved herself to a higher seat as a second and third Shadowbolt appeared in front of her. She growled again, clutching her hoof around her much bruised middle. “Send everything we have to the north end, right now. Crush and capture as many enemies as you can. Give pursuit and don’t let up.” Her voice was harsh with pain and carried an extra bite. She was going to make them pay for this attack.

The two new Bolts saluted and themselves vanished into the shadow, and Winterlight forced herself to her feet and began trotting towards the north end of the bridge. She needed to check up on her non-combatants and especially Pinkie Pie. With luck, she’d just been keeping them calm and not doing anything stupid. She’d need her to see what could be salvaged from the cider carts, anyway and -

The sound of voices hit her ears, one pitched high and squeaky and the other soft and… and Winterlight flattened herself against the cart and prayed to the Nightmare that she hadn’t been heard. “... I know you love her, little pony. But unless she renounces the Shadow, she is a danger to you and to us all.” The voice of the White Doe resonated in Winterlight’s memory like a beacon of pain and anguish. The one and only time she had tried to shatter the deerfolk’s resolve, the intervention of the Doe had taught her the valuable lesson to never try such a thing ever again.

“I do not care!” came a higher, more squeaky voice that made Winterlight wince a little. “Pinkie, you come here right this instant and give up this nonsense! The twins need you!” A brief pause and an anguished sob of words poured out. “I need you…” There was another sob of tears, and the sound of hooves being dragged along the ground.

“Enough,” came the voice of the Doe again, like thunder and lightning. “The Crusader shall need you, little pony. You are coming with me.” There was a sound of a physical scuffle, of hooves dragging along the stone. More struggling, grunting of effort and the sound of a voice muttering low that Winterlight could not catch the meaning of.

The sound of a whirling wind blasted across the bridge, almost muffling the words that followed, but not quite. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, please! Come to your senses! WE CAN HELP YO- ” The words were cut off in a moment, and silence reigned for a moment before the sound of fighting once again intruded onto the scene. Winterlight poked her head around the cart to see Pinkie standing with her mane afuzzed in the middle of the road, staring into empty space where surely the White Doe had been. She had a lost look on her face, one of despair and pain.

It was a look that Winterlight could sympathize with in her own rough way, and she limped out onto the bridge. “Pinkie,” she croaked out, and the pink pony turned around suddenly, looking at her in wide eyed shock and surprise. “I know… I know it can’t be easy on you right now, but we need to get things cleaned up here,” Winterlight wheezed out, and in a moment Pinkie was next to her, supporting her weight without a second word until she could get to a more comfortable place to lean.

“Geeze, you’re messed up pretty badly, grumpy boots,” Pinkie muttered softly, her mane going slightly limp and long from its previous fuzzed up state. Winterlight might have questioned that on any other day… but she didn’t right now; it was just too damn much to deal with. “What do we need done?” she asked in a quiet and firm voice, far from the perkiness she usually displayed.

Winterlight paused and exhaled deeply. “Casualty numbers. How much cider is left. And I need to know who can be saved amongst the wounded, and who can’t. Get to it and fast. I’ll be fine here.” Pinkie stared at her for a moment after those words, then nodded shortly and quickly trotted off into the wreckage of the column.

Winterlight sighed expressively and leaned against the covered wagons, peeking inside to see the mass of non-combatant ponies almost exclusively unharmed and untouched. It was the single relief in a day of nothing but disaster. She might be hard hearted… but nopony had ever accused her of lacking one.

Well. Nopony Winterlight gave a shit about, anyway.

Scipio winged his way toward the north end of the bridge, a hundred of his Praetorian Guard in tow with the rest of them having scattered to retreat to the woods. With Scootaloo out, he would need to take command of the retreat before it turned into a route. With the little orange pony still cradled against his breast, he swept down towards the madness of the north bridge.

Deerfolk bodies lay in clumps as the earth pony defensive line was forced into further and further retreat. There was no sign of Caedryn or any other living Deerfolk, but the Lunar Guard was keeping the earth ponies from being completely enveloped by sheer force of willpower.

It was a bad situation, and getting everyone out was going to be problematic, especially with reinforcements coming from the other end of the bridge. Even the frantic chants and spiritual empowerment of the Shaman was barely doing enough to keep them from breaking and running, though Scipio could not pick the shaman out of the melee below.

Scipio, for a brief moment, contemplated simply ordering a scrambling retreat and hoping as many got out alive as they could manage… until a blast of wind came out of the east, and he whipped his head toward the horizon. There, upon a hill, a single pony form stood leaning upon some kind of staff topped with a glittering red gem.

A thrum of power shook the earth below him and sent a shiver of chill through the air… and the pony vanished in a puff of magical power, re-appearing below a moment later amidst the other Crusader ponies. Teleportation… that’s not a common unicorn trick, Scipio had time to think as he observed the scene from above, beating his wings to get to safety. The unicorn wore some kind of mage’s hat and cloak, bedecked in stars and moons. The black staff he had been carrying was sheathed in a silvery-white magical aura for just a brief moment before-

Scipio felt his thoughts shut down as a single word thrummed through the air with such power it damn near threw him out of the sky. ”GLACIEM!” The word split the air like it was a physical thing, and the stave thrust forward so the gem just poked out ahead of the front edge of Crusader ponies…

And a blast of bright blue magic exploded out of the end of the staff, radiating out in a massive wave of power and leaving every one of the attacking creatures seemingly frozen solid. Scipio could only stare at the sight, dumbfounded, as a rough and gravelly voice called out indistinctly below him. All the remaining crusaders began an orderly but fast retreat, and Scipio shook off his shock to follow them as quickly as he could.

Something profound had just happened. Something monumental, even if he wasn’t sure entirely what it was. But he was sure he was going to find out soon enough. So he tucked Scootaloo up close to him, making sure her shield and sword were carefully secured as their forces beat a hasty retreat back toward White Tail Wood.

The battle was over. The bridge had been lost.

But what had been gained?

Pinkie Pie quietly scribbled down the last numbers she’d been asked to gather and hoofed over the papers to one of the Shadowbolts. That left her alone, as she’d been trying to manage for the last hour or so, amidst the slow work of identifying and counting the dead. It had been a grim duty, but Pinkie was used to grim duties from her childhood and had taken to it with a solemnity that her parents would have been proud of.

She hadn’t often thought of her family in the past few years, but she had always hoped her sisters had found some joy of their own in their lives. She fiddled with the quill in her teeth and trotted along down to the north end of the bridge. Winterlight was in the south, having sent off a messenger to Ponyville just an hour ago. She needed to speak with Twilight, and she needed new orders.

Only a third of the cider stock remained - not nearly enough to accomplish their efforts in seeding the destruction of the Zebrican islands. They’d lost thirty percent of their guard force too, although most of them had been Shadow Guard recruits rather than anypony Winterlight had cared about. The death had still been an abhorrent mess, especially for Pinkie Pie. And Rainbow Dash…

Rainbow Dash was in a bad state. She’d been standing over Thunderlane’s body when she’d found it and looking moody as all get out. Pinkie Pie passed by her again, now on the other end of the bridge and staring into the distance of the Ghastly Gorge. Pinkie hopped up next to her and reached out to curl a hoof around Dashie’s shoulder and give her the best hug she possibly could. “Wasn’t your fault, Rainbow,” Pinkie said softly, as encouragingly as she could.

At first, Dashie hadn’t wanted to hear that. But now…. now Dashie sighed and leaned into Pinkie’s shoulder hug. “You’re right. I know you’re right, no matter how much it sucks.” Pinkie had to agree with the sentiment that it did, indeed, suck. But there was more to it than that, and Pinkie knew it… but she was pretty sure Dashie wasn’t going to be ready to talk about it for a while.

But just as she stood to move away, Dashie spoke again, but this time much more softly. “You’re thinking about leaving, aren’t you.” Pinkie felt her hooves go cold at the words, and tried to very casually back her steps up a bit… but it wasn’t going very casually, no indeed. Pinkie tried to think up an excuse… tried to think up a reason to keep Dashie from getting angry, but… “It’s okay, Pinkie. I understand.” Dash turned her head and there was a soft smile on her face. “Look… this whole stupid… war thing isn’t going to last forever, right? We both know Twilight’s right, and that she’s going to win. She always does, yeah?”

Pinkie dug her hooves into the dirt a bit, then nodded gingerly. She really did believe in Twilight, and if Twilight believed in all of this as strongly as she did… Dashie kept speaking, her voice soft. “Then it’s not going to be a big deal if you go, Pinkie. If Mrs. Cake really needs you, then you’d better go and be with her until we can fix everything. Then we’ll be together again when the time comes, I promise.” Dashie stuck out her chest and gave her best grin. “All of us will, and we’ll all have a good laugh about how silly it was that we were fighting one another over this.”

Pinkie felt a small giggle, exit her throat, and she nodded. “Yeah… we’ll have a big party, all of us together again. I Pinkie Promise.” Pinkie went through the solemn motions of the promise, and Dashie mirrored them with a grin for her. Pinkie really did mean that, even if some nagging feeling in her tummy told her it wouldn’t be exactly what she thought it would be. Things weren’t supposed to be this way… there wasn’t supposed to be all of this violence against other ponies.

Maybe if she went and talked to Mrs. Cake, she could find out who had commanded all of this and convince them to to stop. There didn’t have to be fighting or death or any of that… they could have friendship, like it was supposed to be. “I wont tell the Captain,” Dashie said in her softest voice. “Or Twilight… but you’d better go now. I’ll cover for you.” Dashie lifted up her hoof and Pinkie gave it a soft bump and turned around. “A-and Pinkie? P-please… Take care of Scootaloo if you see her, okay?” Dashie said in a quavering voice, and Pinkie nodded solemnly at her…

And quickly took off down the road. She had always been good at getting to places unseen and unstopped, and having the Shadow inside of her hadn’t changed that one bit. She dashed from bush to tree to cloud to bush and back again, and before she knew it all of the blood and death was behind her. She wasn’t entirely sure where to find Mrs. Cake… but there had been deerfolk here, and that meant White Tail Wood. So that would be where she’d start.

Captain Winterlight of the Shadowbolts leaned against the back of her cart and sipped at her reserve apple cider, massaging the painful cuts in her shoulder and hoof. She didn’t know how she was going to explain this to Umbra or Mistress, but she was working out a plan at least. It wasn’t every day three of the biggest, most badflank groups of fighters all hit you at the same time in a damn fine example of an ambush.

Still, the day had not been completely lacking in profit. The Deerfolk commander had been captured, and many of his brethren had been killed. Her casualties had been severe, but they’d hurt the enemy too. The Knight Commander was undoubtedly injured, and would probably take a little time to recover, and they’d managed to secure the bridge against all odds to the contrary. Even better, her green and untested force had just been fed into the crucible, and undoubtedly would come out of this battle with some much needed blooding.

That half her force was recovering from being frozen solid and the other half a combination of wounded, dead, and in various states of bad-shit was just the price that had to be paid. Still, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation to have with her superiors… neither of whom seemed well versed in the realities of war. Still, she was pretty certain things weren’t bad enough that she’d have to flee for her life… not yet, anyway.

Winterlight winced again as she lifted her cup and drained the cider out of it. She couldn’t afford to underestimate her enemies like that again. Her Queen had selected a new Chosen quite well, she had to admit. Still, it would probably be prudent to start laying in the preparations for such an event to occur. One never assumed the ideal thing would come to pass, especially in the middle of a war.

The Mistress and Umbra would arrive soon, and not for the first time in the past few weeks, Winterlight wished Silent Moon and Shadow Song were here. They had always been spectacular at soothing Mistress and keeping her focused. Oh well. All she could do was present the facts and intel they’d gathered, especially on that powerful unicorn wizard that’d shown up toward the end and the fact that the Doe herself was involved. The rest would be up to the whims of fate and her commanders.

She only hoped that they would understand that this had been a victory, even if it had been a costly one. And most importantly of all, she hoped they understood that it was this that truly was the beginning of the Twilight War.

Author's Notes:

Thanks to everyone for your patience in these chapters!

Next chapter will be on the 4th, and will proceed with normal chapters after that until the next big fight.