War isn’t tidy.

It might belie the experience itself, but in reality, combat is essentially simple: Kill the fuckers that are trying to kill you. Once the shooting stops, however, things get complicated. All the messy loose ends need tying up, and I can certainly see the… allure of not caring. The “Kill ‘em all, let the Sisters sort them out” mindset, as it were. It would have been so easy not to care about Ebb or her situation. About the others, who died while under my care. I guess for all the preparation in the world, I wanted reassurance that my morals were intact, and Ebb was the perfect candidate.

Of course that wasn’t what I told the others. I rationalised until I almost believed myself, but ultimately, I’d forged into combat completely by design for the first time… and my actions both scared and excited me.

Ebb’s situation provided a diversion, at once an ethical and strategic outlet for the emotions I was only beginning to come to terms with — anger, at the group who stranded us here; professional pride, at seeing the fruits of the training, the effort Tailwind and I had invested in becoming what we were; the sheer ecstatic feeling of martial triumph over another. It was a melting pot of things I had no desire to face head on. Even then, I knew I’d need time to come to terms with what had happened, but I couldn’t afford to.

All of which stemmed from, for the first time, taking life by choice rather than necessity.

My body was headed steadily towards exhaustion, while still being so amped up I couldn’t possibly force myself to be still. I had to move, had to… make ‘progress,’ as vague as that sounds. I knew we had to salvage what we could from the battlefield, but my mind was so far from able to focus on something so menial, it almost made me sick just thinking about it.

So I made the decision I did, to take Fade and Tailwind on a griffon hunt, ostensibly to eliminate a thorn in our side before he really became an issue.

Some part of me remained rational enough to ensure the necessary consolidation would happen while we were away, detailing Bernard and Crafter for the duty. Simultaneously, Fade gave his own instructions to Ebb — he instructed her to begin digging a hole, one large enough to bury a pony in; and to have it done by the time he returned.

If he wasn’t already coming with, I might have said something about how ominous that sounded… but it would keep her busy, and I could deal with whatever Fade had planned upon our return.

I had decided that I wasn’t going to let Fade kill her, whatever happened. Part of me was worried even then, that my desire to kill the griffon might’ve been clouding my better judgement… but not her, too. As arbitrary as it seems (and it was)... her life was the line I’d drawn for myself. Something I could point to even for just myself, to remind myself I was still true to my own beliefs.

Sometimes, that’s all you’ve got.

–Snap Roll’s Journal

Celestia’s faint light painted our wings and drew long shadows from the scrub forest below us — the most colour you could typically hope see beneath the cloud layer. Neatly wedged in the dips between mountain ranges, she was managing to illuminate our our world for the brief twilight period.

Ordinarily, the sight would have been enough to swell my breast and bring a smile to my lips.

Right then, all I could meet it with was a scowl.

As beautiful as those few, fleeting minutes of light were, they heralded an increase in wind speed, and from the ache in my wings I could already tell that it was going to be another rough night, to say nothing of the dropping temperature. Even Tailwind’s normally fanciful flying was quite muted, holding an even formation at my wing.

Opposite her, I cast my eyes to Fade, though he didn’t return my gaze. He seemed focused, gazing intently for any spoor our prey might have left behind. He knew as well as I that we were already on borrowed time. There certainly wasn’t time to address the situation we’d left Ebb in.

It wasn’t long before we reached our stepping off point, the roost where I’d last exchanged fire with our griffonic prey. Unsurprisingly, it was deserted and untouched since I’d flown off. The anti-material rifle still rested where I’d left it, perched against one of the makeshift walls of the structure.

“Fade,” I spoke, breaking the silence of our twilight flight, “grab the rifle and meet us at the base of the mountain. He crashed there, if he left any tracks, that’ll be where we’ll find ‘em.” It was a terse, short order, called out without giving him a chance to reply before I banked away, cutting speed and descending.

I couldn’t quite keep myself from glancing towards the corpse spread out far beneath the roost, some sort of sick, guilty fascination drawing my eyes to a sight that really didn’t need to be seen right then. Consoling myself with the thought that her death had at least been quick, I tore my eyes back to our mission. Landing in the soft snow with only a slight stumble, my injured body gave its silent reminder of how hard I’d already pushed it that day.

Just a bit more, then I can rest.

Getting down to business, I quickly found the disturbed ground where the griffon had crashed. I hadn’t seen the impact itself, but from the minor snow-crater he’d left it had probably been worse than initially expected. There were a few smears of blood on the rocks where he’d hit, along with an empty auto-injector of Med-X and a smashed bottle with a few purple streaks remaining of the healing potion it had probably contained. The path he’d evidently followed was clear enough, marked by vibrant drops of scarlet against the white snow. Talon marks on the rocks and trees were another dead giveaway.

It wouldn’t be a hard trail to follow, at least as long as he’d been freely bleeding. Confident that we at least knew the way, I glanced back at the others. Tailwind had landed behind me, and I’d caught her glancing back in the direction of the mare I’d killed, a mix of worry and sadness in her eyes, but her mouth set in a determined line. I wouldn’t have objected to her judging me for my actions, probably the only one I’d have allowed… but she stayed silent. Whether from worry or understanding, I never knew. I didn’t ask, either.

Saving both of us from the awkwardness, Fade made a heavy landing, AM rifle clutched in his talons. His assault rifle was slung behind his back, between his wings. I gave him a moment to collect himself before I began to lay out the plan. “You can follow this.” I voiced it as a statement — I knew better than to insult his skills. Even I could probably track this, but time was of the essence, and this was as close to his specialty as we were likely to get. With the lingering pain of my recent injury an idle reminder to perhaps tone down my own proximity to danger, I continued; “I would very much appreciate you taking the lead on this one. How would you like us to help?”

He dropped the butt of the heavy rifle into the snow, half supporting himself on it as he gave my words some thought. Idly, he scratched at the feathers on his cheek before coming to a conclusion. Clearing his throat, he dropped his claw back to the rifle’s casing and spoke up, “I can most definitely track him. From what I see here I’d almost wager you could; stealth doesn’t seem to be his priority.” His conclusion mirrored my own, but I waited, allowing him to continue with his train of thought. “Tracking I can and will do,” he restated, fiddling idly with the safety of the rifle. “Engaging him once found… well, that’s a different story.”

And therein lied my view of things. That hesitation. I knew I could rely on him to fight ponies, or realistically any of the monsters we found in these frozen wastes… but other griffons? That, I still wasn’t sure of. As such, though this was, I figured, the path of least resistance… it might just reveal something of our griffon companion’s character. I wanted to see what he’d do, when given the lead on this one.

My thoughts aside, he’d already begun to lay out his plan. “The only two routes I can see are engaging him myself — and hoping the wound he’s taken is enough of an advantage for me to take the upper claw, as it were… or, once again, being a diversion while Tailwind and yourself try and make with the multi-directional stealth assault. Or whatever the term may be.”

As he spoke, I dug through my saddlebags, coming up with the dozen or so bullets I’d originally purloined from the rifle. Hoofing them over, I commented, “Hopefully this’ll help even the odds a bit. He’s got some decent armour, but one good shot should be more than enough to take care of that.” Glancing back at my shoulder, still itchy from the recent magical healing, I added, “I’d like to avoid getting shot again, and we’ve got the tools to make this work. Tailwind and I will be there to back you up the whole time, however you want to play it once we find him.”

Demonstrating remarkable aptitude despite never (to my knowledge) having used anything as large as the massive rifle, Fade deftly slotted what rounds he could into place, closing and locking the bolt in place. He stashed the remainder in one of the many pockets adorning his jacket, within easy reach should he have to. Finally, he shouldered the rifle and gave a quick test of the sights. That complete, he reached down, scooping up a small claw-full of bloody snow and giving it a sniff, inhaling the no doubt still fresh smell of blood. Letting it fall from his claws, he absently wiped them off against a nearby tree, staring off in the direction the griffon had fled.

Nodding in conclusion, Fade looked back over his shoulder to Tail and I, giving orders of his own. “Best that you two hang back while I go. Try and stay to the sides and keep sight of me at all times; utilize that high falutin’ training of yours, no doubt.” A strange turn of phrase, but it seemed self explanatory enough, even if it made me feel like we might’ve just been insulted, but couldn’t call him on it. “I’ll be the main attraction,” he continued, “but I’d greatly prefer it not be my last show, if you catch my drift.”

It seemed that that was all he had to say on the matter, for he turned and headed off, following the trail, with Tailwind and I falling dutifully in behind. But before we’d gone more than a few steps, or spread out overly much, he turned back to comment, “And eyes to yourselves. Let’s not have a repeat of Kilo, hmm?”

And what’s that supposed to mean...?

It wasn’t long before we found ourselves standing at the outskirts of a large field of boulders, with his tracks leading straight into them — practically an invitation. We couldn’t have been more than a kilometer from where we’d picked up his trail. The whole time I couldn’t shake the feeling like we were being led, rather than tracking. Reaching a spot like that was what clinched it, in my mind. Either he’d lucked out, or this had been at least a fall-back plan of his. On top of everything else, Celestia was in the very last minutes of daylight. Low enough to be in our eyes if we took to the air, but we’d be entirely in shadow if we kept to the boulders, with our eyes having a hell of a time adjusting.

It wasn’t like we could afford to wait him out, either.

Cantering up to where Fade had paused to look out over the boulder field, I posited my thoughts on the predicament before us; “He’s set a trap,” I stated bluntly. “He knows we’ve got at least one pegasus, and he wants to either catch us in the maze of rocks, or get the first shot off if we search from the air…” Glancing up at Fade, I added, “Thoughts?”

Fade drew his gaze across the landscape before us, clicked his beak, and nodded. “Yes, many.” He replied, in time, “Many many thoughts.” He finished his scan, turning to address the two of us as he continued to speak, “More than is likely considered healthy, or perhaps just enough that the powers that be are displeased.”

I quirked my head, no idea whatsoever what he was getting at, but it was far from enough to dissuade him.

“Thoughts about life, thoughts about snow, thoughts about how you think I didn’t see you checking me out, thoughts about how the other one still owes me a drink, thoughts about how I’m probably still about to get myself shot. Only the last one is important right about now, admittedly… but yes, I do have them.” He nodded, clearly satisfied with the, ah, insight he’d just imparted to us, because his train of thought went in a completely different direction immediately afterwards. Turning his head back to the boulderscape before us, he seemed to pick a decidedly large one and broke out into a grin. “Ah, that’ll do nicely,” he announced, before turning back to us, completely left behind by where his mind was going, but listening nonetheless. “You and Tailwind had best take sides and get to the best spots you can. Do try and be quiet about it. Clever bugger is trying to force us to play his game. Well, joke’s on him! I only ever play my game. Tend to win it, too.” With that apparently being enough information for us, he flashed us what seemed like a completely manic grin, winked, and immediately set off for the boulder he’d marked out just before.

I made a mental note never to ask for his “thoughts” again. That was… decidedly disturbing.

Tailwind clopped one forehoof into the other, commenting, “That’s right, I did owe him coffee, didn’t I?”

Absently, I nodded in reply, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” Glancing back to the rocks, I continued, “And he’s completely crazy, but I think for whatever he actually plans to do, we should probably do as he said — at this rate, whatever’s about to happen could very well start without us.”

She chuckled softly, “Well it would be rude to leave a pair of gents to make things happen all on their own, now wouldn’t it?”

With that, we went our separate ways, carefully taking up positions on opposite sides of Fade’s chosen rock, keeping low on the off chance he was near the entrance to the rock maze. We lost sight of each other immediately. I felt that same trepidation coming back, the feeling of being under someone’s gunsights. He knew we were coming, and we’d have to dig him out like a tick.

As we moved up, snow lightly crunching beneath our hooves, Fade took that as his cue to scramble up to the top of the rock, no doubt silhouetting himself against the treeline behind us. I really hoped he had a notion of what he was doing. Glancing back, I noticed the strangest thing. He was dropping his weapons beside him. Still on the rock, but the massive AM rifle was resting on its bypod, then his rifle was unslung and deposited right next to it. He shifted, then lowered himself to a more comfortable position, squatting on the tip of the rock. Finally, he drew a breath and whistled, a harsh, loud tone. “Hey! Hello!” He dragged out the ‘o,’ far longer than any normal person normally would. “Mr Talon… Merc? Sorry, don’t know your name! You out there? Vi govorite maternji jezik? Hteo bih da porazgovaramo i ostaviti metke is nje.”

He’d just given away his position! Was he trying to get killed? For a few seconds, I stood stock still, battlesaddle bit deployed and scanning the boulders immediately before me for any sign of movement.

Off in the distance, carried by the winds, we heard a reply. It was twisted, bouncing and echoing off the terrain, virtually impossible to judge direction or distance from. The only determinant factor was that it was clearly the same voice I’d heard earlier, this time speaking in the same guttural language I’d occasionally heard Fade speak. “Nije dobro, otac me nikada nije mnogo naučio. On je previše popio!” The shouted reply was shaky, as if straining at the translation. His addendum, “Nosite li crne?” seemed to come almost as an afterthought.

I began to creep forwards. He was being a distraction, then. Fine by me, but he could have just said as much.

Still, I’d kill to know what they’re saying right now…

Fade’s reply seemed to have some hesitation, as if he was surprised the other griffon was actually willing to exchange words. Again, he spoke exclusively what I had always assumed to be griffonic, or something like that, "Jā! Melnā un sarkanā krāsā. Ne šeit, lai cīnītos, tikai gribu runāt. Strādāt kaut kas, jā?"

There was a pregnant pause before the opposing griffon responded, “Bet jums lidot ar debesīm zirgu? Man nav to iegādāties, jūs esat ārštata nekas vairāk.” He seemed to spit out the words, like they were something distasteful. I didn’t know anything about that, but after listening a little harder this time, I was beginning to get a bearing on his position.

Tailwind and I kept in touch with our TFD’s as we began to circle wide of where I suspected he was, slowly adjusting the sides of the trap we were hoping to close around him. It was tense, every soft crunch of snow reminded me that we’d never particularly practiced this sort of thing, not in these conditions. Each step felt deafening to my ears, like he might hear us at any given point. But we both plodded on, checking our corners and gradually moving forwards.

Meanwhile, Fade kept right on spouting his incomprehensible language, giving us what cover he could with sheer volume. "Strādāt viņu labā? Jūs esat man visu nepareizi draugs. Call to aizsargāt investīcijas. Vai jums ir kāda ideja, ko viens no šiem spārnoto muļķiem ir vērts ar pareizajiem cilvēkiem, nemaz nerunājot par pāris no viņiem? Tikko esat kļuvuši mērķi viņu uzmanību tieši tagad, žēl, jo tas ir. Tātad, strādāt ar mani tagad. Ļaujiet viņiem spēlēt savu maz spēli un izkļūt ar savu ādu."

As we closed in, Tail and I stopped communicating entirely, potentially too close to even risk subvocal speech. Based on where I’d last heard him, he couldn’t have been more than twenty meters away, by my estimation.

Things were set for the final stretch, as I rounded a boulder just as unassuming as any other. Past the large rock, I noticed a thin trip wire, barely a hoof’s width above the snow line — leading into a small bluff of snow wedged under a separate boulder.

Doing the intelligent thing and leaving it the fuck alone, I quietly took to the air — just a low hover, mind you — enough to clear the wire, at least.

Breaking the near-silence of the cold air, Tailwind screamed “Snap, down!” Her cry was shrill enough for me to hear before the TFD had even scrolled the message across my eyepiece.

I didn’t think, just acted. Snapping my wings up and back, I used all my strength to propel me out of whatever harm she must have spotted.

A heartbeat later, a burst of high-velocity lead hammered through the space my head and neck used to be. Rock shrapnel from the boulder they hit instead rained down on me, even as I ran face first into the undisturbed snow in front of me.

Recovering, I glanced back to the wire, finding that the moving snow had dislodged it, and the simple rock it was tied to.

A false trap? Bastard!

I rolled left around the boulder I’d almost ran into, trying to get a visual on where those shots might’ve come from. Abandoning stealth entirely, I called out into my TFD, “You see him?”

The sharp ozone crack of Tailwind’s rifle firing in quick succession was her immediate reply, followed by text through my TFD. “He was about twenty meters up the ridge, he had a clear shot on the other side of the tripwire.” She paused, firing off another pair of shots before repositioning. “Damnit! He got away back into the rocks, headed West. He had the route planned out.”

I keyed the radio to Fade, but left my TFD’s channel open. “We’re engaging,” I called out, “Fade, we’ll move in and flush him out, hit ‘im if you can. He’s currently on the move from twenty meters up the boulder ridgeline, headed West.” Not waiting for a response, I took flight and began to circle around, maybe catch sight of the area Tailwind had described.

Looking from a different angle, I could now see where I’d walked through had been a beautiful kill zone. The path I’d been following plateaued up ahead, on the top of a rather large rock structure. Further up the hill, through a zigzagging trench of boulders lay his ambush point. He’d had a clean shot. Tailwind’s warning was all I had — a sobering thought.

What really got me was that from where we’d been, the way the crest worked, there was no way of having known that this area opened up as much as it did until after I’d rounded the corner. It was a damn intelligent spot, and it reinforced my urgency at wanting to take him down.

Pausing a second, I re-evaluated things. He was retreating back, and we didn’t have eyes on him. First things first, we had to know where he was, or there was no telling what else he was trying to lead us into. Beating my wings, I traded the concealment of the boulder field for the wide open skies. From my new perspective, I could see just about everything. Tailwind moving up maybe thirty meters to the right of where I’d been, Fade dragging up the AM rifle and watching for a shot… and a glimpse of that moving mass of armour and feathers that was our target. For an injured griffon, he was moving fast. He’d seen me almost immediately, and was taking great pains to keep out of sight as much as he could.

Still, better than nothing.

The other thing I gathered was that he seemed to be running towards something, rather than simply away. My first thoughts were another firing position or maybe even a weapon cache of some sort. We had so little info, all I could figure was that we couldn’t let him get there.

Accessing the TFD, I dropped a waypoint just past where I’d last seen him. “Tail, fly past the point I just dropped, then double back. He’s moving deliberately, we need to disrupt his plan. Get him to double back, if you can.” Then I switched to the radio. “Fade, Tail is gonna try and get him to double back. See that one…” I strained my eyes, trying to spot something worth calling out in the field of irregular, but unassuming boulders. “The bigger rock to your eleven o’clock, looks kinda like a brahmin? If she does get him to double back, he’ll go right past that.”

A few seconds passed, then Fade’s reply crackled over the radio, “Got it, bring him on in.”

Everything seemed to be in place. Tailwind was moving into position, Fade’s shot seemed lined up, and I was in position to guide the others and follow his movements.

Too bad no one let him in on the plan.

Just as I’d imagined, Tailwind managed to get ahead of him as she dove in, firing off a series of bursts from her energy rifle. Then, instead of continuing to divert as I’d planned, he decided to push straight through her beams, answering with a trio of short bursts from his SMG. I could hear Tailwind cry out in pain and dive hard to the right. It looked like she’d been hit in the shoulder, but I couldn’t be sure.

Shit!

Suddenly we’d lost our cohesion. If we left him, he could very well go after her as she was down!

Hammering on the radio’s PTT switch, I shouted out, “Fade, new plan!” As I spoke, I deployed my saddle’s firing bit and flapped my wings to get into position. I caught another glimpse. Not heading for Tailwind after all, but at that point all I saw was tinged with red. “Search and destroy!” I cried out, drawing my wings in and diving, flapping to accelerate and make corrections as he moved. It was easier to follow this time, he seemed to be moving slower, possibly hindered by more injuries.

Soon as I entered firing range, I opened up with my energy pistol, peppering him and the rocks around him with ruby red beams of destructive magic. Part of me hoped Fade would zero in on the light show, but that griffon needed to die five minutes ago, and I wasn’t waiting for anyone.

My shots hit home near the base of his uninjured wing, all but maiming it. He reacted too fast for me to follow up — vaulting back once he’d determined my angle of approach. Clumsily falling to his left side, he still managed an ineffectual burst of fire in my direction. From his movements, his right leg seemed beyond saving, damage he could only have taken from Tail’s rifle. The last thing I saw of him was that he’d slouched against a boulder, presumably to use it as cover.

Ineffective as his return fire was, his dodge put him under my angle of gun-run, unless I planned to ditch into the rocks. I much preferred remaining un-splattered, so I pulled up at the last second, whizzing past at just under max dive speed. Instead of bleeding speed, I traded it right back for altitude. My legs grew heavy as blood rushed from my head, grey fuzzing the edges of my vision. Immediately, I started a hard pitch turn to the right, praying my recovering body could take the strain. The manoeuvre pulled me through a lateral hundred-and-eighty degree half-loop before I rolled back to level flight. Meters below me, snow and rocks flashed past almost too fast to track, but it put me exactly where I wanted to be.

The direction also happened to put me over Tailwind’s position. I didn’t think he’d try to go after her at that point, but I wasn’t ruling anything out.

My aerial maneuver, taxing as it was, drew no return fire, and I looped around at a much flatter angle of attack, ready for one last pass. I caught a brief glimpse of Tail crawling towards the cover of the rocks near her, and while I was glad she was safe, now wasn’t the time to help. I guessed he was waiting for me to line up a pass to exchange shots — just like our first duel, when he’d landed the hit on my shoulder.

Not this time, motherfucker.

I steeled myself for having sore legs come the following day, and aimed my dive over the very same boulder he’d used for cover. Angling in low and fast — too shallow for the dive itself to result in a decent gun run, as the boulders confused vision altogether too much, and I wouldn’t have an angle once I flashed past his cover. Concentrating on flying, drawing on every scrap of flight knowledge I possessed, I planned my route and hoped the impact wouldn’t shatter my legs instantly. Feeling the air currents in my feathers, a single rogue gust of wind could have been catastrophic at that point. Timing the perfect air currents right as I crossed the point of no return — immediately before crossing over the threshold of the boulder. At high speed and a shallow angle, I lowered my legs and kicked out, much like I had back at the sniper nest. Only this time, it wasn’t to arrest my momentum — it was to drastically change my angle of attack.

The impact rocked all the way up my legs, straining every bone to the very breaking point. It worked, drastically desyncing my spatial movement from my initial trajectory. I pulled my legs and wings in, continuing the motion in its natural direction, nailing an unpowered loop even as my forward momentum carried me up and over the boulder. The only course corrections I even dreamed of doing were minute adjustments of my tail to keep me centered on the axis of flight.

As I flipped around, looking “up” relative to my current orientation, my maneuver meant I was moving in a fast arc above him and through his plane of vision. By the time my shot actually lined up with where I’d determined him to be, I was pointing almost straight down. I started firing before I even saw him, fully intending to stitch fire all the way through his location. I wasn’t going to miss this chance!

For a split second, as energy bolts were already burning their way towards him, I made eye contact with the bastard. In that instant, realization dawned on his features as he cracked a half grin, his gun pointing the wrong direction to be brought to bear in time. That grin was as much a compliment as I’d ever get.

Searing bolts of raw magic lanced through his shoulder, collarbone and head, as many as I could pump into him in the fraction of a second my gun was lined up.

Then it was over. The inevitable momentum of my maneuver left me completely unable to see the lasting effects of my strafing run. I finished the loop, unfurling my wings and frantically flapping to bleed speed and avoid my own untimely rendezvous with a boulder. It wasn’t pretty, far from even a coherent flying maneuver, but I swung around, bleeding speed until I was virtually hovering. Advancing slowly, I trained my weapon on his position.

Cresting the final series of boulders, my accomplishment was laid bare before me. The griffon had collapsed to his left, leaning with his back braced against the boulder he’d tried to take cover behind. To my surprise, the stubborn ass was still alive, however pyrrhically. His right arm was dead, the nerves and tendons having been cut through at the shoulder, with the remainder being so much raw meat. Both his wings were a twisted mess, and his right leg was charred, limp at an unnatural angle. The part that really stuck with me though, was that his right eye and most of the right side of his face were ruined, charred and blackened to indistinguishable levels.

His breath was short and erratic. The hits to his shoulder must have punched through his armour’s shoulder straps and vaporized a lung, I guessed. His gun had fallen from his ruined arm, and his huge knife lay useless, sheathed at his side.

As he noticed my re-approach, he chuckled lightly, murmuring something unintelligible.

Seeing his weapon out of easy reach, I fluttered down, gingerly landing on my hooves. My reticle never left his chest, even with my exhausted breathing. “Was it… worth it… asshole?” I asked between breaths, keeping my distance. I wasn’t about to step within reach — I’d tempted fate far more than enough for one day. “You wanted to die standing… some bullshit like that?”

He spat blood as he chuckled, “Heh, trust egg breakers? Min’aswell die fighting rather than bound and gagged.” Breaking into a coughing fit that seemed like it might just be the end of him, he managed to pull out of it — though he spat out what I might have guessed was a piece of charred lung. “Damn,” he said, “Feels weird, my body’s gone all to hell, but I barely feel it.” He leaned back and looked at the sky, still uttering that damnable chuckle, like it was all some sort of fucked up game. Not deigning to look me in the eye, he asked, “So, ya gonna finish it?”

“You killed those ‘Rangers, and those ponies on the road. I’m not asking about that specifically, I’m sure there were orders or some shit. Why do you do it? Serve Red Eye, all this.” I did want to know — if I could get some info from him, so much the better… but if I’m really honest with myself, I wanted to drag it out just a bit. “What the hell did you gain from it?” I asked, venom and confusion nearly equal in my tone. “Money? Subordinates who can’t say no? The fuck was in it for you that you were willing to die for?”

The griffon spat blood again, letting out a slow, wheezing laugh, “Loyalty to the contract, cloudy. Not that you’d understand. Ponies never do…” He coughed again, harder this time. It was almost over, and he knew it. “So what,” he asked, “ya gonna watch me go?”

I glanced down at the pistol mounted on my side, slowly shaking my head. Almost to myself, I whispered, “You know, as fucked up as it is, Fade might just be right after all.”

Then I brought my aim up, and snapped off one last shot. I couldn’t miss.

The shot hadn’t even had time to finish echoing off the suddenly still air, when none other than Fade dropped down off the boulder beside me. Skies above, I didn’t even have the energy to be surprised. He gave a desultory nod towards the smoking hole in the griffon’s forehead, “Yep, always honour the contract. Your word is all you’ve got down here.” Turning his gaze back to me, he broke out in a grin. “Good show on all that, I’m proud. Always takes a lot to admit I’m right; though I usually am.” The final straw was when he unfolded a wing and draped it lazily across my back, leaning in and asking after a pause just long enough to be awkward, “What was I right about this time? Shooting dissidents?”

My posture was beyond slumped. Right then, I couldn’t even summon the will to care about Fade’s attitude, though I was sure I’d regret it later… Tailwind’s well being was worth far more to me than the ribbing I’d receive from one damaged griffon. I shrugged off his attentions and his wing, kicking off and flying straight back towards my partner.

By the time I arrived, I found Tail desperately trying to tie off a bandage on her shoulder while trying to apply pressure to the wound at the same time. With the very last of my energy, I slit to a halt beside her, breathing a soft sigh of relief when I saw her injury was comparatively superficial, having hit meat, and exited cleanly.

Fuck, I can’t believe I just wrote that…

Opening the stopper on our very last healing potion, I helped her drink it all — every last drop. Then, I gave her a long hug, whispering breathless apologies into her good shoulder as I buried my face in her mane.

Slowly, she hugged me back with her good leg, cautiously asking, “Did ya get him, chief?”

Having her there, I felt the adrenaline finally burn off, for good this time. I realized my legs were shivering, completely aside from the cold. “Yeah,” I finally managed, shakily. “Yeah, I got ‘im.” Releasing her from the hug, I looked her right in her deep green eyes, “You took out his leg for me, kept him right where I needed him.”

She shook her head as if to clear the shadow of a thought, “But why though — why did he fight? He must’ve known he would die…” She sighed as she slowly started to stand. “I can’t wrap my head around it.”

Letting out a long, low sigh, I’d finally slowed my breathing down to normal. “In the end, he said something about ‘loyalty to the contract,’ and that I wouldn’t understand… I don’t know. I kinda wish I did.” Glancing up at the sky, just how long things had taken was finally hitting home. While we’d talked, Celestia had finally slipped below the horizon. Seconds ago I was shivering from adrenaline drop, now the Cold was beginning to become a very real worry.

It was time to leave.

Author's Notes:

Well, this has certainly been an arc. I don't think I'll ever forget it, if nothing else because of the major life events that have happened along its creation. Might post a blog about that later in the week, but suffice to say, for everyone still with us, thank you all for your patience, and your continued interest in our humble story.

Housekeeping-wise, I can't promise the next chapter will be "soon," but it won't be the same sort of wait. After all the little technical details I've been agonising over for this (including purchasing and reading a treatise on aerial combat, something I certainly hope to bring into play in the future), a... simpler chapter... will be a nice change of pace.

Much as these chapters have been a 100% integral part of Frozen Skies, it's been something of a foray into the full breadth of a combat encounter, something I feel is often... under-represented. For one thing, a series of plot points lined up perfectly with concepts I wanted to introduce — every combat won't be this detailed, though I'll neither make promises nor let things slip simply to reassure, in that regard. If nothing else, no story can sustain something as simple as combat taking as much wordcount as these chapters have, simply for its own merit.

Thanks for reading!