Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Ugghhh...”

Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic and the Third Crown Princess of Equestria, groaned like a filly with a belly ache.

With far more effort than it should have taken, the new Royal forced her eyes open. She was immediately blinded by bright white light, only to realize a moment later she was staring directly into the light above her bed.

‘Bed?’

Twilight started to move her head to look where she was, only to moan in agony as pain shot down her spine and across her chest.

“Doctor! The Princess is awake!” somepony yelled from outside of her field of vision. The scramble of hooves on tile filled her ears before the face of a white earth pony in a white doctor’s coat came into view.

“Your Highness? Can you hear me?” he asked in a voice which was a mix between excited and worried. Twilight’s response was another painful moan.

“Nurse, alert the guards outside that the Princess is awake,” the Doctor ordered to an unseen nurse. He turned back to Twilight and shined a bright light in each of her eyes.

“Princess Sparkle, do you know where you are?” Twilight tried to explain that she didn’t, but her mouth refused to form words. A fog had descended over her mind and clouded her consciousness.

“You’re in the Royal Canterlot Infirmary. Do you know how you were wounded?” he asked.

‘Wounded?’

The single thought rang clear in the confused melee that was thrashing inside her skull, but as quickly as it came it was gone. As much as she tried, Twilight was unable to string her thoughts together. Fragments of memories and half-understood concepts pushed against each other and blended together to form a static that was both empty and all-consuming.

After what could have been the entirety of Existence or a mere fraction of a second, the darkness that she hadn’t known she craved crept back upon her, and Twilight Sparkle was once again gone.

When Twilight finally managed to grab hold of the fickle rope that was consciousness, a nurse immediately galloped away to retrieve a Doctor. She returned in record time behind a stallion that felt familiar, though Twilight was unable to place exactly how.

“Your Highness, I am very glad to see you awake. I’m Doctor Quick Silver, and you’re in the Royal Infirmary.”

Twilight licked her lips before she croaked, “What….happened?”

The Doctor ignored her question. “Do you know what day it is?”

It took Twilight a few moments to pull the information from her mind, which she realized felt clouded and slow. “T-Tuesday?” she said uncertainly. Another note was written down.

“It’s Monday. You’ve been in a coma for six da-“ the Doctor was cut off midsentence by a loud pop and a bright flash of golden light, followed a moment later by a similar flash of midnight blue.

“Twilight!” Twilight Sparkle would recognize that voice anywhere, no matter how foggy her thoughts. It was Princess Celestia; her mentor, teacher, and second mother. Twilight immediately found her vision obscured in a field of white fur as she felt her neck being nuzzled almost aggressively.

“Oh, my faithful student, I am so glad you are alright!” Celestia exclaimed. Twilight thought she might have felt liquid on her neck where Celestia was nuzzling her.

“Ahem,” came the voice of Princess Luna. “Sister, we believe your current behavior is unsettling the Doctor greatly.” Twilight felt Celestia pause in her cuddling, before she slowly and carefully withdrew. When Twilight’s vision cleared, she saw Celestia with both front hooves on the hospital bed and an ecstatic look on her face. A moment later, Princess Luna appeared on the other side of the bed, smiling as well.

“W—I, am glad to see you awake Twilight Sparkle. It is no secret you gave my sister and I quite the fright.” Though she was more subdued, Twilight could tell the Princess of the Night was extremely relieved.

“What….happened?” she asked, her throat going dry in the middle and forcing her to swallow to resume speaking.

The sisters shared an uneasy glance between them and looked towards the Doctor who had fallen silent. The pony gave a slight nod.

“There was….an acci-“

“An attempt was made on your life,” Luna said seriously, interrupting her sister’s ginger words. Celestia glared at her darker sibling, which only earned a huff from the Night Princess.

“We should not attempt to conceal the truth from her, sister. She would have found out soon enough.” Celestia said nothing and continued to glare at Luna for a moment longer.

“Somepony…somepony tried to kill me?” Twilight said fearfully. Reflexively, she curled towards her mentor. Normally such an action would have brought a small smile to Celestia’s face, but under the circumstances only served to sadden her.

“It was a Changeling, actually,” Luna added. “We suspect a petty act of revenge on Chrysalis’ part. It was slain moments after it wounded you.”

Twilight said nothing, but began to shiver. Streaks of tears marred her purple coat and soaked the hospital bedspread. Celestia and Luna glanced at each other before returning their worried gazes toward Twilight.

“Your Highnesses, I believe it would be best if we left Princess Sparkle to rest for now,” the Doctor put in slightly hesitantly, but with the firm undertone of a Doctor giving an order. The two sisters nodded silently and slowly walked out of the room, each shooting a glance backwards as they watched a nurse cast a sleeping spell over the traumatized alicorn.

Across the Mareibbean Sea, the moody expanse of water that marked Equestria’s Eastern coast, the wide expanses of the Zebrican Plains were soaked with blood. Thousands of two legged creatures and Lion bodies filled the air with the sound of clashing steel and screams of pain. Somewhere among the confused tangle of men and beast stood an armored Centurion. His armor was scratched and dinged and his tunic was soaked in blood, whether it was of his men, the enemy’s, or even his own he was unsure of.

“Hold….hold…” the Centurion ordered his men, his voice firm and his body tense as he watched the Males eat the distance between them and his men. “Hold…..and….Open up!” As one, the formation of men split, allowing the Lions to charge through their line. Immediately after their passing, the men closed shields again before a single Lioness could breach their line. The Males, having been moving too fast to change direction or slow down, found themselves trapped and surrounded as the line of fresh men behind the first descended upon them. Spears found hearts and lungs as swords cut legs and throats. The onslaught came from every direction and the Berserkers were cut down in seconds.

A short cheer went up through the men, which was quickly cut short by their own Centurion who pushed and shoved them back into formation.

In the first line, the soldiers continued their push forward. The hot Zebrican sun baked them in their segmented iron armor and every soldier silently begged for a drop of water. Their bodies were exhausted and they gulped cool air, but they did not break step. Every meter forward they marched they left the slain bodies of lionesses.

To either side of them were more units of identically-clad soldiers which, altogether, formed a shield wall that seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Javelins and arrows flew over their heads; launched by archers and the line of soldiers directly behind them in reserve. Furious red flags hung limp over their heads as they pressed on.

Slowly, the chaotic swarm of lions in front of them thinned. The pauses between sword thrusts became longer and longer, and the hard impacts against their shields grew rare.

The end came suddenly. A single, massive Male stood upon the single bit of elevation within sight; a small dirt mount barely twenty feet tall. Around him was a small group of males, each of their manes braided with gold that gleamed in the sunlight. The Male raised his head and unleashed a furious roar that ripped across the plains. It seemed to stretch on for eternity, and every human soldier felt a heavy weight in his gut as the pure authority in the sound pounded them.

The roar faded away, and the instant silence returned every Lion on the field bolted away from the battlefield. The soldiers paused and braced themselves behind their shields again, but the lions did not turn back. Only after the enemy was no longer visible on the horizon did they relax.

However, when they did, the cheers of celebration made the Lion’s roar seem like a mouse squeak. Shields were thrown aside as the men danced and sang their victory songs. From behind them came porters dragging barrels of watered down wine and juice. Fresh fruit and bread was passed around and left contented soldiers in their wake.

For an hour the party was allowed to continue. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. At the sixty-first minute, Centurions resumed barking orders. Units were reformed and shoved into formation. Equipment was found and re-donned. Porters carried the now-empty barrels and food trays back to their carts and strapped them in place.

Inside of a quarter of an hour, the army was returned to order. Earthen ramparts were thrown up, guard towers were assembled, and wooden spikes were planted in the dirt around the new camp’s perimeter. Every soldier in the camp was put to work digging, hammering, or raising the army’s tents. The only exceptions to this was the Commander’s staff, who at that moment were grooming their dogs and preparing their evening meal, and a knot of a hundred men surrounding the Centurion responsible for slaying the Berserkers.

These men, the soldiers of the First Century of the First Cohort, were exempt from camp duties. These soldiers were the Alicorn bearers. It was their duty to carry their duty to carry and protect to the last man the solid gold Alicorn Standard of the Fourth Legion. Instead of camp duties, at the end of every successful battle, every man was expected to give themselves a small cut on their palm; barely large enough to draw blood. The standard would then be passed around, starting from the lowest man in the Century to the Centurion. Each time the Standard was passed, the man receiving it would nick his hand, grab the pole, and offer a prayer for the men who died in battle.

As the sun set over the savannah, the ceremony was nearly complete. The second to last man, the Century’s Optio, or second-in-command, extended the pole towards the Centurion. The Centurion withdrew a dagger from his belt, cut a quarter inch incision in his palm over his often re-healed scar, and grabbed the pole directly on the sizeable bloodspot halfway up the length. He bowed his head, careful to ensure the large crest on his helmet did not touch the standard, and muttered the ancient prayer for the dead.

The ceremony complete, the Centurion raised his head and nodded to the Optio standing beside him. The Optio barked an order and as one every soldier present punched their fists over their hearts. In a single swift motion, the Centurion reared up and slammed the Standard into the ground. The gilded iron spike at its base sank deep into the dirt. With caution, the Centurion released his grip, and the Standard stood independently.

As one, the soldiers released their salutes and relaxed. The ceremony over, they were free to shed their armor, wash themselves as best they could of the day’s grime, and cook their evening meals. Unfortunately for four men, the Optio grabbed them before they could wander off and shoved them towards the standard. The Standard had to be guarded, and those men were unlucky enough to catch the first two hour shift. The Centurion nodded his approval and left to find his tent.

“GET DOWN LOWER! I SAID GET! DOWN! LOWER! DO YOU WANT TO BE IN THIS CELESTIA DAMNED GUARD OR NOT? THEN GET! DOWN! LOWER!” Shining Armor’s voice echoed across the Palace Courtyard which was packed with Royal Guards in full armor. Each and every one was somewhere around their thousandth push up, and the Guard Captain showed no sign of abating. Desperate gasps for oxygen and moans of pain filled the air.

Princess Twilight Sparkle laid on a special wheeled cushion in front of one of the less-ornate glass windows overlooking the courtyard. The two weeks following her awakening had let her wound heal nearly completely, but the still healing hole in her chest meant she was confined to bed rest for another week. Healing spells were powerful things, but even they were only so effective on wounds serious enough to endanger an Alicorn.

A deep frown was on her face. At her side was Princess Cadence, and around them were a half dozen armed Royal Guards. The Guards maintained stoic demeanors, but there were subtle signs that they were sending silent waves of sympathy to their comrades down below. Each and every Royal Guard was receiving advanced physical training that bordered on torture thanks to the incensed Captain.

“How long has he been like this?” Twilight asked quietly. Cadence did not look away from her husband in the courtyard as he pulled a soldier unable to do another push up out of line and forced him to sprint around the formation.

“Since the….incident. He was only worried at first, but when he learned you had Guards with you he……well, this.” Cadence’s voice was melancholy, matched only by her downtrodden appearance. Hey hair was full of split ends and there were bags under her bloodshot eyes.

“Why is he doing this?” Twilight asked her fellow Princess.

“He thinks it is somehow his fault, I think. He is responsible for the Guards, and he thinks that since they failed, he failed.”

“That’s stupid,” Twilight snorted. Cadence gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“Yes, it is. But you know your brother. With his logic, he thinks he almost allowed his little sister to get killed. Combined with what he sees as his failure during the Invasion, it has not left him in the best state of mind. You should have seen what he did to the Changeling that did it.” Cadence shuddered at the memory.

“How bad?”

Cadence paused to consider her words, lest she put more of a burden on the young, injured Princess. “He….he nearly killed it. When Celestia found him, he was essentially beating the thing to death with his bare hooves. It took a dozen Guards and Celestia herself to restrain him.”

Twilight’s breath hitched as her eyes began to tear up. Cadence nodded to one of the Unicorn Guards who lit his horn and began to push the young Princess away from the window. Cadence made to follow her, only sparing a single glance at her husband. She immediately wished she hadn’t, because in that instance Shining Armor turned in such a way that she could see his face. It was filled with hate and fury, so much so that it barely looked like her husband at all. A tear slipped down her own face as she forced herself to look away, so as to not have to see the monster her husband was at the moment.

‘At least, I hope it’s only for a moment.’

The Princess of Love cantered to catch up to Twilight, her own beefed up guard detail matching her speed. A moment of awkward silence passed before Twilight spoke.

“I have to talk to him. He can’t keep taking out his frustrations on the Guards.” Cadence shook her head sadly.

“We’ve already tried. Myself, Celestia, even Luna tried to calm him down. Each time we were rebuffed. Since I spoke to him he’s been staying in the Barracks.” Twilight’s wide eyed gaze met Cadence’s admission. Before she could respond, the two elder Princesses rounded a corner in the hallway and approached them. With the personal guards of all four Princesses in the hall, not to mention Twilight’s wheelcushion, it made for tight quarters.

“Twilight, I am glad we found you. We have matters to discuss,” Celestia said seriously.

“In private,” Luna added, glancing somewhat suspiciously at the golden armored guard surrounding them. Even her own Night Guards were not spared her critical eye. Celestia nodded and led the group a short distance away to a small dining area. The fact that a dining room could be found in such an unusual location in the castle merely lent credibility to those who accused its architect of mental instability. Celestia herself, however, found the random assortment entertaining, as someone new to the castle was never completely sure what would lie on the other side of any given door.

“Is this about Shining Armor?” Twilight asked the moment the doors were closed. Celestia shook her head.

“No, but it could eventually involve the Captain, which offers me no great comfort. I am worried that the attempt on your life was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were.” At the mention of the assassination attempt, Twilight flinched, as she did every time it was brought up.

“Twilight, what do you know of humans?” Celestia asked. Twilight tilted her head in confusion.

“Um, not much. I know they call their civilization the Patrian Empire, and they used to be relatively common in Equestria, but that’s about it. Most of my books on other species focus on those that visit Equestria regularly.”

“I see. Unfortunately, Twilight, there is a secret that has long been kept from ponykind that the recent business with the Changelings has brought up.”

“What kind of secret?” Twilight asked. Her scholarly curiosity was dredging through her vast store of knowledge for any hint of what her mentor was talking about.

“Well, Twilight, you are familiar with the fact that some species, and even some ponies treat us Alicorns like Goddesses, yes? Even going so far as to worship us?”

Twilight nodded and shivered. Most Alicorn worshipers were Minotaurs, so the faith was relatively rare in Equestria, but there were still scattered groups of all species that still practiced it. She still remembered the first time she had been accosted by a group of ponies calling themselves ‘The Temple of Her Holiness Twilight Sparkle.’ It hadn’t even been a full month after her coronation at that point.

“The humans see us much the same way. In fact, they are among the most devout of all species, going so far as to erect great temples in our name.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with the Changelings?” she asked.

“You see Twilight, humans are not like ponies. They devote themselves to more…..martial ways of life. Humans pride themselves on their fighting ability, and in fact are among the most fearsome warriors in the world. Even Griffons respect humans in this regard.”

Twilight was not liking where she suspected this conversation was moving. “And, shortly after Luna and I took the throne of Equestria, the humans declared that they would destroy any who dared ‘desecrate the Goddesses’ with aggression.”

Twilight was aghast. She turned away from Celestia to the other Princesses. Luna refused to meet her gaze and Cadence was standing slack-jawed, apparently having not heard the legend either.

“But…wait are you saying, that there is a species that’s so violent the griffons don’t look down on them, that worship us like Gods, and vowed to destroy anything that so much as sneezed at us?” Celestia nodded grimly.

Twilight Sparkle erupted into laughter. “Y-you almost had me for a minute there!” she giggled. “But what about all the crazy stuff that’s happened in the past three years? Nightmare Moon, Discord, the actual Changeling Invasion?”

“Nightmare Moon is….a complicated issue, but the Humans considered Discord another deity, and resolved he was the responsibility of Luna and myself. As for the Changelings, Luna and I personally requested they stay their swords, and they acquiesced.”

“But if that’s true, couldn’t you just tell them that again?” Cadence pointed out, having come out of her shocked silence. Luna shook her head.

“Neigh. A single transgression they were willing to ignore, barely, but two they are not. Especially when the second incident is a personal attack upon one of their Goddesses. From their point of view, they must act, or their protection over Equestria will be seen as hollow.”

“So…what? They’re going to attack the Changelings?” Twilight speculated. Luna and Celestia shared a look.

“Not…exactly,” Celestia responded.

“Twilight Sparkle, what do you know of Wolves?” Luna asked. Twilight scrunched her brow at the near copy of Celestia’s question.

“Well….they’re extinct. Right? Or is that another secret?”

“The Wolves transgressed us as well.” Luna’s tone was grim and final.

A moment of silence passed before Twilight and Cadence’s eyes both grew to the size of saucers.

The march back to the coast was long, hard, and hot. The column of five thousand men moved slowly through the baking heat, made all the more unbearable by the warmth caught by their polished iron armor. Throughout the day, the detail responsible for escorting the baggage train trailing the army collected those who had passed out from the heat along the side of the road. They were thrown up on the rickety, man-drawn wagons and left to rest in the shade.

At noon, a break was called; both to avoid the hottest portion of the day and to allow for rest, lunch, and most importantly; water. Every legionnaire carried a flask of water on their hip which held roughly three quarters of a gallon. By the time the break was called, the younger, more inexperienced soldiers had already drained theirs. The older veterans chuckled at their discomfort, each having learned from experience to ration their water.

Too quickly, the Tribunes and Centurions began barking orders once again. With grunt and curses, the soldiers pushed themselves to their feet, gathered their rucksacks, and set off again. The rest of the march was still sweltering, but the falling sun gave each man a sign that their trek was near close. Though their eyes were to remain forward while marching, just about every second of the last five hours of marching saw an iron helmet dart up for a moment to catch a glimpse of the sun’s position.

Mercifully, after six solid hours of marching, and five more before that, a sight came into view that filled every soldier’s with relief. The blue sea lapped at the white sand beaches that marked the Zebrican coastline. Pulled up on the sands, guarded by a thousand men with armor over their purple legionnaire tunics, were dozens of Triremes and Biremes. Long, sleek ships with limp oars hanging off the sides sat waiting to take them home.

Not only were the ships waiting for them, but the beachhead was surrounded by sand ramparts and guard towers constructed upon the Legion’s landing a week before. The soldiers would not have to dig before bed.

The gate to the camp was lowered and the column strode in proudly. They wore the mark of pride given only by a battle won, tempered by loss, and polished with shared experience. Not long after their arrival, the soldiers were directed to tents where they would spend the night. The First Century received a billet near the center of the camp.

The Centurion dismissed his men almost immediately; having lost no men that day, there was no need for prayer. He suppressed a chuckle as he observed the Optio select the same four men from the previous night for the first guard shift. He suspected those four had done something idiotic to earn his ire. One of the Optio’s many jobs it seemed was to make the men under him grumble when they weren’t looking at him for guidance.

Author's Notes:

This is a story that could one day still be made after I'm done with Entanglement. I really like it, but I'm not sure where I'm going with it yet.