16th day of First Frost
452 Years after the Defeat of Discord by the Sisters

Pallas looked up into the tree. Her eyes had finally started to adapt to the sun after months of drilling in the light. A soldier who could only fight for half of the day was of little use when fighting could happen as easily at noon as midnight. She could see clearly now, and that included the white thestral who was hanging like a fruit from the branches of the tree by her tail.

Pallas picked up a rock and tossed it into the air, hitting it with the leading edge of her wing as it started to fall. The pebble hit Bianca's flank, the mare’s eyes shooting open. She squeaked and fell, her tail uncurling from the branch. Pallas stepped forwards and caught her, the albino landing on her back.

“W-what are you doing?” Bianca demanded, rubbing her eyes.

“Finding you,” Pallas snorted. “It’s our first battle tomorrow, remember? Luna wanted to talk to you, and she was too busy to come looking herself. I volunteered to find you and drag you away from your all-important napping.”

“It’s not napping!” Bianca protested. She wasn’t making any effort to get off of Pallas, letting the larger thestral carry her back towards the camp. “It’s special training. I need to be able to fall asleep at any time so I can get messages to and from Luna through the Dreaming.”

“If you say so,” Pallas shrugged, the motion almost dislodging Bianca.

“Are you scared?” Bianca asked, quietly. Pallas laughed at that.

“Scared?” Pallas looked back at her, grinning. “Why would I be scared? I’m looking forward to it. I owe the griffons some payback, and I intend to give it to them in spades.”

“I saw your dreams,” Bianca said, abruptly. “I was worried because…” she trailed off.

“It’s fine. Luna helped me with them.” Pallas fixed her eyes forwards, frowning slightly. “She was right. There’s only one way to deal with nightmares, and that’s to face your fear and stab it to death.”

“I don’t think she’d say exactly that,” Bianca teased.

“No, but I did like the stabbing part,” Pallas snorted. The ground changed under them as they walked into camp. She stopped in front of Luna’s tent and reared up, Bianca falling from her back. “Try not to fall asleep during the battle. You don’t want them to catch you literally napping.”

Bianca stuck out her tongue at Pallas. “Falling asleep is my job!” She opened the tent flap with a slender wing and walked in. Pallas caught a glimpse of Luna, the Princess meeting her gaze for a moment with an understanding look before the falling flap hid her from view again.

“Did you have a nice nap?” Luna asked. Bianca’s ears folded back at the Princess’ teasing.

“I was training!” Bianca protested. “I want to make sure I can live up to your expectations.”

“Ah yes, training,” Luna nodded. “I wasn’t aware that I had given you an assignment involving such interesting and intimate dreams.” Bianca whimpered as Luna grinned at her. “I had no idea you had such interesting fantasies. Have you told her yet?”

“Not exactly…” Bianca mumbled.

“I would do it soon. The life of a soldier is typically quite short and brutal, ending in a sudden tragedy. Though…” Luna frowned. “There is something odd about the fate of hers. I cannot see what is written in the stars for her with any clarity. It is almost as though some part of her exists merely to defy destiny. My sister was always better at tracing the weave of fate.”

“What does that mean?” Bianca asked, fidgeting nervously. “Is she going to get hurt?”

“She most certainly will. She will be going into battle.” Luna was silent for a few moments. “Be wary, young dreamer. I can sense there are strange times coming. Everything is twisting towards some end that I cannot see beyond.”

“Is that a prophesy?” Bianca tilted her head. “Because that sounds like the kind of confusing things that somepony says when they’re doing a prophesy thing.”

“I am no true prophet,” Luna snorted. “But dreams and prophesy are close relatives. I do not know what is coming, but I worry it will scar all of Equestra.”

Pallas’ stomach was full of butterflies. She and the other recruits were assembled for battle, with the motley collection of gear they’d chosen from the armory. Pallas had an uncomfortably tight set of barding, her large frame simply too big for most of the armor they’d had available. Even this largest set was too tight around her shoulders, restricting her movement slightly.

At least her helm fit, and she looked out over the others through the slitted visor. She could see everything easily, standing a head taller than the other soldiers. The only thing that was comfortable were the wingblades strapped to her. They were huge, heavy things, none of the other recruits able to wield them and still fly for even a short distance.

She held them close to her body, feeling a sense of security from them, the same comfort she’d felt in her dreams. Pallas was starting to find it difficult to sleep well without a weapon at her side.

“Soldiers!” Yelled the Centurion at the front. “This is your first battle, and your first chance to prove yourselves! We are going to be the spearpoint into the keep!” The Centurion pointed with a leathery wing to the blocky stone structure. “The griffons took it from the Solar Guard, and we are going to get it back, tonight!”

Nopony questioned why it was important. They all already knew the answer. The griffons didn’t belong here, and Luna intended to strike at every hoofhold they had in Equestria. While the Solar Guard was busy with large-scale fighting on an even field, Luna struck against her opponent with the intent to kill, without honor or mercy.

Princess Celestia was treating her opponent as an equal player in a grand game of strategy. Luna treated the griffons as prey for the children of the night.

“Other elements of the Night Guard are ready to back us up, but this is your chance to show that you can handle yourselves. This is our true first test as warriors.” The Centurion looked them over. “All pegasai and thestrals will form the first wave. We are going to go over the top of the wall and open the gate for the other elements. Remember, we are fighting with a purpose! Once the gate is open, the earth ponies and unicorns will storm the fort, but until then we are fighting at half strength. Don’t try to be a hero. Just get the job done. Is that understood?”

There was a scattered murmur of acknowledgement.

“I asked if that was understood recruits!” The Centurion screamed.

“Yes sir!” Pallas barked, along with the others. This seemed to satisfy him.

“Good. First wave, follow me!” The Centurion spread his wings, taking off. Pallas and the others in her group followed. She struggled to keep up with him, the wingblades weighing her down. She didn’t intend to let a little thing like that stop her, though. Pallas pumped her wings, ignoring the drag as she sped towards the keep, alarms already being raised.

The butterflies disappeared as she saw the first griffon, replaced with a burning pit of anger. Pallas banked towards him, dropping into a dive. The griffon spotted her at the last moment, turning and trying to run. Her hooves slammed into his back, driving him into the ground. She looked down at him, feeling powerful and in control for the first time in a long while.

He reached for his weapon, and Pallas stomped on his talon, bones breaking under her hoof. He screamed, and Pallas roared, rearing up and driving her forehooves into the back of his head, splattering him across the ramparts.

Pallas breathed heavily. It was the first time she’d ever killed anything. She knew she should feel something. Bad? Good? Something. All she felt was like a knot in her chest had loosened. She didn’t have time to contemplate what she’d done. A griffon ran at her, screaming, a sword in his talon. Pallas’ training kicked in, and she turned, putting her weight into it as she extended her wing with all her strength, hitting him across the waist as he reared up. The blade bit into flesh. There was a moment as it almost got stuck, and then something broke and it was free again, suddenly coming free.

The front half of the griffon fell into the courtyard, a look of surprise in his dimming eyes. Pallas brought her wingblade back, kicking the griffon’s lower half down to join the rest. The ramparts were awash with blood now. As the smell of the gore filled the air, she started to feel it. The same sense of satisfaction and power that she had in her dreams.

Pallas laughed and ran forwards, cutting down griffons as she moved. Blows from talons and blades cut into her, opening shallow wounds on her exposed shoulders and flanks. She ignored them, slashing left and right with her wingblades, griffons falling to either side of her. Pallas finally reached the end of the rampart, looking down into the courtyard below. A griffon with more ornate armor stood among the others, yelling orders to those around him.

Pallas jumped for him, not making a sound, not that he’d be able to hear it beyond the din of battle around him. She dimly remembered being told not to be a hero, but that wasn’t foremost in her mind right now. The griffon officer turned as she approached, his sword sweeping up to meet her oncoming blow, knocking her back on her hooves.

“You came to the wrong party, filly,” the griffon growled, spinning his sword around in a flashy sweep. Pallas grinned as courtyard cleared around them, the other griffons giving them space to fight. Apparently they wanted this to be a duel.

“If it’s a party you’d better know how to dance!” Pallas yelled, lunging towards him. The griffon blocked her wild swing, sparks flying as the two weapons met. They backed away from each other, the two circling around and searching for weaknesses.

Pallas blocked as the griffon tried to swipe at her neck, the force of his blow sending her to her knees. She rolled to her feet, avoiding a followup, and started to get worried. He was too fast for her to just sweep aside, and if she kept blocking, the other griffons might get smart and close in on her. She had to go all in.

She lowered her head, charging in with a low profile. The griffon swung for her, and she felt the blade hit her helm. Pallas dropped further, going to her knees and letting the blade glance along her helmet, her ear erupting in a distant pain as the tip was sheared off. The griffon looked down at her, the thestral well inside his guard and his body totally exposed.

Pallas drove the tip of her wingblade through his neck, tearing it free to the side and ripping out his throat. Blood sprayed out in a wide arc as he tumbled to the ground. Pallas shook the blood from her wingblade and flapped her wings, leaping onto his fallen form and standing on top of him as the breath left his body, glaring out at the crowd of griffons around her.

The gate slammed open with a thunderous crack, falling freely with the chains that had been holding it closed severed. Pallas turned to look as earth ponies and unicorns rushed into the keep, overtaking the gathered griffons.

“Cut off their retreat!” The Centurion commanded, as he landed next to Pallas. “Mages, prepare wingbind spells!” Pallas watched from her perch on the fallen commander as the keep was retaken, the ponies cheering in victory around her as the griffon lines collapsed in a rout.

Pallas grinned, the pain from her small wounds a distant worry.