Albion

by Jed R

First published 24th of March, 2016

A war beyond imagination comes to the door of Equestria, and our heroes must either adapt or be swept away by the tide...

The peace of a morning in Ponyville is shattered by the arrival of a being from another world, intent on taking revenge for crimes against his home - except that nopony remembers committing those crimes.

This being brings a tale of woe, of a world at war. He brings a tale of a dark mirror and the crimes of a Tyrant wearing a familiar face. His arrival will be the catalyst for the great battle of our time. Innocence will be lost, lives will be shattered, and for the crimes that have been committed by this dark mirror, there will be justice…

… and vengeance.

***

This story is a reimagining of the story of The Avatar of Albion. Consider this the big-budget CGI reboot. It is also an AU of the original, with brand new characters, whole new storylines, and entirely new perspectives.

With thanks to my co-writers and friends for their everlasting support and encouragement.

If you're enjoying this story and wish to know more about the world, please consider reading the following side story.

Albion: The Suicide Mission.

If you like this story, please consider reading one of the many additional stories in the AOA mythos. A small selection includes...

The Avatar of Albion: When We Needed Him Most
Alternative Universe story, by RoyalPsycho.

The Avatar of Albion: The Morningstar Dawns.
Alternative Universe story, by The Void.

The Avatar of Albion: The Avatar's Odyssey.
Alternative Universe story, by TheIdiot.

Convergence.
Alternative Universe story/Other Side of the Spectrum Crossover, by Doctor Fluffy.

A full index of other AOA stories, as well as potential discussion of the series, can be found on the AOA Group.

You can also visit the series' TVTropes page.

Prologue: The Wheels of Fate

***

“So how did it begin? Give me a moment to recollect, oh gentle reader, and I might just tell you…”
Discord/The Narrator. The Avatar of Albion.

***

The wheels of fate turn. It is not something you can see unless you are outside of it - the threads of destiny, tugged, pulled, wrenched into place, woven into tapestries - what you would call your history - and then rewoven into something new, over and over again, spanning its way through to eternity.

And I can see it. All of it. Every moment, every thread, every tapestry.

Some are pleased to call this my blessing. Others prefer to think of it as my curse. They are all wrong - there is no judgement to be rendered, no value or quality one can say this experience has. It - like all things - simply is: immutable. Inevitable.

Many things are inevitable, from a certain point of view. Events repeat across the fabric of creation, over and over again. The old notion that “history repeats itself”... well, suffice it to say, whoever first said that had no idea how right they were. It’s almost funny.

There is often, in the fullness of time, a war. In that war, there is often a man and his allies. Set against them is a mare, and that conflict is one of opposites. Darkness and Light. Good and Evil. Love and hatred. Life and Death. Horror, and the breaking of innocence, alongside hope and fellowship. These things do not happen all at once, nor all to the same beings. These things are not always all true all of the time. It is the way of things, though, that all of them are.

These are sometimes thought of, by such as you, as stories. Tales to read to your children, or to never read to your children. Death-defying escapades and derring do and heroism. That s what you think you take from these events, isn’t it? Or maybe you’re a story too, somewhere, and someone else reads your life, takes their own lessons from that.

Stories such as these, though, are rarely told merely the once. We long for stories of conflict, of heroes and villains, of trials and tribulations. Though they are often horrible, the lessons they teach us are not merely of the struggles of those within them - they teach us lessons about ourselves, too. The teach us about the nature of life, of the heartaches of love, about the struggles that we ourselves may face between what is right and what is easy. They teach us that there is always hope - and, alas, that there will always be a need for hope. They teach us that darkness will always cast a shadow - but, comfortingly, that a light will always shine at the heart of it to beat it away.

Perhaps one day, we will learn these lessons forever, but for now, they must be taught again. You, my friends, must - if you are willing - step into a world the likes of which you may have seen before. This time, though, the outcome will not be quite what you are familiar with. This time, things will change. This time, the end is not certain.

You may have been here before, and if you have you know how it begins.

It starts in Ponyville, on a day much like any other…

***

A World At (False) Peace

“Excuse me... um, sir… Um... what… sorry, who... are you?!”
Twilight Sparkle, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Ponyville. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

One day, in the magical land of Equestria, a purple Unicorn mare named Twilight Sparkle sat alone on the edge of a pond near the Everfree Forest, pondering the water as she tried thinking of precisely what to write for her latest friendship report.

The last few days had been… interesting, to say the least. Which was to say, a group of travelling Moles had come through Ponyville, drunk half the town dry of alcohol and then proceeded (while still drunk) to start digging themselves a mine - the foundations of a Molish city - in the centre of the town. It had taken all of Twilight’s not-inconsiderable diplomatic skill - not to say luck - to convince them that mining in the middle of an inhabited piece of flatland of all places was perhaps not the best place for them to start. They hadn’t been convinced until one of the inebriated party had noticed the looming form of the Smokey Mountain in the distance. Twilight had told them it was free land (she wasn’t certain, but then the only time she’d been up there the only inhabitant had been a Dragon so she was reasonably sure) and they had packed up and headed off.

Twilight admittedly didn’t know much about Molish culture. This group had ridden great big, scaly worms (or what they had called Wyrms) and most had been at least lightly armed to some degree, and that alone had intimidated many of Ponyville’s residents (apart from Lyra Heartstrings, resident cryptozoologist and something of a cultural historian, who’d spend most of their visit drinking Ol’ Trotspur with them and asking about the Wyrms and Molish history and - well, everything). Still, given how she’d had to improvise her solution, Twilight found herself feeling quite proud of it. After all - they’d left, and done so without causing lasting harm (the town’s severely decreased alcohol stock and the giant pit they’d temporarily dug in the town-centre notwithstanding).

Still, it left Twilight the unenviable position of having to explain to Princess Celestia that there was a Molish caravan heading off to the Smokey Mountain and taking residence on (or technically under) Equestrian soil. An unenviable task.

She couldn't complain too much about it though: at least it was a nice day for it. The sky was blue, birds chirped as they flittered hither and thither through the trees, and there was barely a cloud to be seen.

Another idyllic day, Twilight found herself thinking with a smile. Moles or not, it was good to live here. Taking up her quill, Twilight began scratching out her letter to Celestia.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Over the past couple of days, Ponyville has been playing host to a group of travelling Moles. Though they didn’t hurt anypony and they seemed friendly enough, they did decide that they wanted to dig a mine in the middle of town. I think Lyra knew why, but she got a little -

A soft clicking sounded behind her. Twilight raised her head, a slight frown on her face, and the scratching of the quill stopped. Whatever that noise was, it had sounded almost artificial, like some sort of mechanism. She was about to turn around to investigate when a soft, gravelly voice spoke from close behind her.

“Get up slowly. Drop the quill. No magic.”

The edge in that voice set Twilight on edge. She tried to think what the click might have been. A crossbow? She knew Griffons used them, and they were deadly weapons. But what would a Griffon be doing out here?

“I said get up,” the voice said, a tad impatiently. “Slowly.”

Obeying, Twilight slowly lowered her quill, before moving to stand up. There was a pause after this, and her mind was working frantically, trying to run through all the possibilities. Something flat and metal pressed to the back of her head, just under the soft fur of her mane. It didn’t feel like a crossbow, on account of it not being sharp, but…

Before she could come to any conclusions, however, she heard the voice speak again.

“You know, you really should be more careful where you sit, Commander.” The rank - unfamiliar to Twilight - was spoken with scorn. “You’ve enough enemies in this country as it is.”

Twilight swallowed. “I-I think you have the wrong mare.”

There was a snort of derision before the gravelly voice spoke again, sarcasm lacing its tone. “Commander Twilight Sparkle. Born in the year nine hundred seventy nine of the Single Celestian Throne calendar. At age twenty one, you became the bearer of the Element of Magic. At age twenty five, you became one of Princess Celestia’s chief researchers, right before the declaration of Empire. You’re thirty six now, and for the last eight and a half years you’ve been a High Commander of all Imperial Guard forces, primarily assigned to the research division.” There was an undercurrent of loathing behind the sarcasm. “I know you very well, Commander. It’s sort’ve my job.”

Twilight frowned in confusion. She had only turned twenty four a month or so ago: what was this pony (or Griffon?) talking about? He had her date of birth and the age she’d been when she became the bearer of the Element of Magic, but the rest made no sense.

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what half the words of that sentence mean!”

“Lying isn’t becoming,” the unknown voice said. “Your friend Applejack wouldn’t have approved.”

Wouldn’t have approved? Why the past tense? Twilight thought, a sudden feeling of dread running down her spine. Did something happen? What did this pony… Griffon… thing… do?

“I-I’m not lying,” she whispered. “Please.”

There was a pause. “Turn around slowly, Sparkle.”

Twilight did so, feeling her heart skip a beat out of shock at the thing she found herself facing.

It was easily twice her height - six foot tall, bipedal. It wore a shirt of some kind, off-white and stained. Battered brown trousers and knee-high boots were set off by a just-shy of knee length coat in a battered black leather. Leather meant predatory - most races didn’t wear animal skins unless they ate animals, that much Twilight knew. The thing had pinkish skin and a dark brown, almost black mane, with stubble surrounding its chin. Its eyes were small and brown, staring at her with unabashed hatred mixed with just the smallest piece of what could only be uncertainty.

And it definitely wasn’t holding a crossbow. Instead, it was aiming a small metal something with a cylindrical barrel at her. The angle at which it was held suggested some sort of projectile weapon, though, and Twilight didn’t want to take any chances. Around its chest it wore some sort of bandolier, which seemed to hold several dozen small pointy metal things - projectiles for its weapon? Slung around its back was another metal object, this one larger and longer, but clearly a similar sort of device. Finally, two knives were sheathed in scabbards hung on the back of its coat.

“H-hello,” she said quietly. “M-my name’s Twilight Sparkle. W-who are you?”

The thing blinked at that, before laughing right in her face, a harsh, unpleasant sound full of bitterness.

“Don't tell me you don't know who I am,” he (she was fairly certain it was a ‘he’) said angrily. “You know exactly who I am.”

“N-no, s-sir, I don't,” she replied nervously. She felt confused - what was this thing? Why did it think she should know it? Why was it threatening her?

Too many questions, not enough answers, she thought to herself. But none of them will matter if this creature decides to kill me.

The creature seemed, if anything, even more confused now, the aim of its weapon slackening ever-so-slightly. Twilight briefly considered trying to disarm it…

… but it thought she was its enemy, and she, as a student of friendship, wasn’t going to give it more reason to think so. She would talk to it, not attack it.

It (he, Twilight, don’t de-equinise him, that won’t help) seemed to come to a decision, and adjusted its (his) aim.

“It doesn't matter,” he said, almost shrugging. “If you're really that stupid, I guess killing you is going to be easier than I thought.”

His finger tensed on the trigger of his weapon… but he was still hesitating.

“Please,” Twilight said quietly, trying not to sound too scared (or too antagonistic - she didn’t want to provoke him). “I d-don’t know why you think I-I’m your enemy, but I swear, I don’t know who you are. I’m twenty four, and I’ve never been in the army. There’s been some mistake.”

The creature narrowed its eyes at her. “Prove it.”

“I turned twenty four not too long ago,” Twilight said desperately. “I’m not... I told you, I've never been in the army. I'm not built for it!” she was trying to stay calm. Trying not to panic. This creature, whatever he was, was a predator. From what she’d read, a predator didn’t react well to its prey getting twitchy. “I’m not thirty six: you only have to look at me. I promise, I don’t… I have no idea what you mean!”

The creature growled, his lips curling into a sneer of disgust… and then he lowered his aim slightly, looking irritated. Twilight relaxed a fraction.

“Nopony’s that good a liar,” he said slowly. Twilight held her breath. “There’s more to this, there has to be.”

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Now, if we -”

In a flash, he lashed out with the butt of his weapon. Twilight’s head exploded into pain, and the world went dark.

***

Lyra Heartstrings, nursing the hangover to end all hangovers, was stood at the edge of the Everfree forest, finishing a sketch.

She had honestly had more fun in the last week than she had had in four years: she had never had the opportunity to meet Moles before the little ‘invasion’ of the last week. Sure, there were Moles from Mol Trotspur up near Trottingham, but that was Trottingham and she’d rarely had enough time to go there. She barely made enough money from odd jobs or from the paltry amounts of money she made from busking with her lyre to fund her need for new books and papers and drawing materials, and she barely got by. Actually going to Trottingham? Ha, no chance, not unless she won the lottery, and she didn’t even play the darn lottery (should I play the lottery? If I won I could finally fund that round-the-world trip I’ve been planning since High School).

So it had been amazing for Moles - real, proper Moles - to come to Ponyville. She had talked extensively to them, though she had needed to imbue perhaps a shade more Ol’ Trotspur (a particularly famous - and strong - Molish beer) than she strictly should have just to gain some modicum of respect from them. She liked to think, though, that she had held her own with the gruff Moles, and once they got chatting they had told her a lot about themselves, their culture and their beliefs. It had been fascinating.

She had tried telling Twilight that all the Moles wanted to do was finally settle down, start a Mol (their word for ‘City’, though it really just meant ‘Place of the Moles’) of their own and, according to their religious practices, find a way to return to their Gods (‘...the Gods of the Mol-kin were born at the heart of the world, and they sent their children forth to seek paradise…’).

Of course, when she’d tried explaining, it had mainly come out as, “Moles want to build a Mol for the Moles, so the Moles of the Mol can find the Mole Gods of all Moles and worship their Moliness.” All this while trying to do the traditional Molish Molochai dance, which was incredibly difficult for a four legged being.

In short, Lyra Heartstrings was not exactly a sensible or coherent drunk.

She looked up from her sketch, frowning as she tried to remember the exact curve of the Molish snout, the exact cut of their tough clothing and their stout figures before the images vanished from her mind. And then she blinked, wondering if she had been out here just a tad too long, but the image she saw before her didn’t change a jot.

Further along the edge of the forest was a bipedal figure in tough, battered clothing, and it was carrying the familiar form of Twilight Sparkle over its shoulder. It was looking around furtively, and Lyra quickly ducked into cover with a wildlife observer’s instincts. The thing continued into the forest, and Lyra quickly pulled up her pencil and jotted a rough sketch of the lines of the figure: the long legs, the strong arms, and the flowing jacket it wore. She cross referenced everything she knew about every strange creature from Equus’ vast history and landscapes.

Not furred, so not any of the ape-kindred. No tail, so likely not a Kitsune in one of its forms, or a Nekomata. Easily too short to be a Minotaur. No spider legs or permanent, prominent mammary glands, plus there's no pheromone haze, so not a Jorogumo. Her eyes widened as she realised what it had to have been. Two legs. Two arms. It couldn’t be - but there’s nothing else that it could be… but that’s just…

She took a slow, calming breath, before saying what it was aloud, confirming it in her own mind.

“A human.”

She grinned, despite the obvious danger Twilight was in if she was being foalnapped. A human - the holy grail of cryptozoological research. Rare was the book that mentioned them, rarer still was there any notion of what they might have actually been. There were stories of cannibals from the south, ancient lost Empires of the East, adventurers in the North… the ancient Horssian tribes spoke of the great riders, brothers in arms. The Jorogumo writings lamented the loss of the first husbands and fathers. Even the usually staid mythologies of the Griffon Empire had their own tales… but there was nothing at all concrete about them.

Gathering her thoughts, Lyra moved slowly out of cover. She hadn’t seen where the human had gone, but there were only so many places in the Everfree forest to go before you started getting just a little bit too lost.

Quickly, she dashed back for town, stumbling slightly as she did so. She was, after all, still a little drunk.

***

In the centre of Ponyville, working on clearing away the detritus of Pinkie Pie’s “Goodbye Moles” party (which had really just been an extension of the six day “Hello Moles” party that had started when the travelling group of Moles arrived), Lyra found Applejack (an orange Earth Pony mare wearing a stetson), Pinkie Pie herself (a very bright pink mare) and Rainbow Dash (a pale cerulean mare with a rainbow-coloured mane), all apparently discussing the merits of Ol’ Trotspur, while Rarity was busy directing a few ponies to clear up.

“Jus’ sayin’,” Applejack said with a shrug. “I don’ hold with that stuff. Gimme a good case of ol’ fashioned Apple Cider any day, and I’m, swell. That Molish stuff tastes too… earthy.”

“Applejack, you’re an Earth Pony,” Rainbow pointed out. “How can you object to something tasting ‘Earthy’?”

“Ah’ll have you know, just because Ah’m an Earth Pony, that don’t mean I want things tasting like mud,” Applejack said with a snort. “Ah’m refined in ma alcohol drinkin’.”

“My goodness - you're ‘refined’ about something,” Rarity chortled from behind them, coming up to join them. “I do believe that's a first, darling.”

“Laugh it up, Rares,” Applejack said good-naturedly. “We’ve all got our refineries. Yours’re clothes. Mine’s drink and apples.”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly call cider ‘refined’ alcohol, but I think I see your point.”

“I kinda get what Applejack means too,” Pinkie said with a thoughtful expression. “It does taste very earthy. But then, Moles come from under the ground, so maybe that’s why -”

“Actually,” Lyra put in as she approached them, catching her breath slightly as she reached them, “Ol’ Trotspur was first brewed by Ganner Bugmole of Bugmole’s Brewery in Trottingham, made with a combination of old Molish techniques and pony magic. It’s why nowhere else can make it but Bugmole’s in Trottingham, and why it’s so expensive.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “Trust Lyra to know where it comes from. You were with them so much I thought you’d marry one.”

Lyra snorted. “Moles frown on inter-species -”

“TMI!” Applejack yelled, holding up a hoof. She frowned at Lyra. “Ya’ll alright, sugarcube? You look a little outta breath.”

Lyra grinned. “You’ll never believe what I just saw.”

“What?” Rainbow asked sarcastically.

“There was a human at the edge of the Everfree Forest!” Lyra grinned.

Applejack and Rainbow groaned, and Rarity rolled her eyes again. Lyra had more than once gotten on the subject of humans, her favourite mythological creature. Of all the various strange things Lyra was into, humans were the one she obsessed over the most. She’d even managed to organise a lecture on the subject once - only Doctor Hooves, Ditzy Doo and her daughter, Pinkie (who attended everything, and was always welcome for bringing the best cupcakes), Amethyst Star from down the road from her, and her ever-present, long-suffering friend Bon Bon had bothered attending, but the lack of interest hadn’t daunted the mad mint-green Unicorn at all. If anything, it had only fuelled her desire to prove that they existed to somepony.

“You really saw a human?” Pinkie asked, frowning.

“Yeah!” Lyra said with an even wider grin. “It was carrying Twilight into the Everfree... Forest...” her face fell. “Ohhhhhh no. That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Rainbow and Applejack exchanged looks of equal parts pity and scorn - this time, Lyra had really gone off the deep end.

A moment later, they registered exactly what she had said.

“I’m going to go with yes,” Rainbow said.

“Say that again, sugarcube?” Applejack said, eyes widening.

“A human was carrying Twilight off into the Everfree Forest,” Lyra said, slowing down. Her own eyes slowly took on a look of dawning comprehension. “Oh. I… should’ve done something, shouldn’t I?”

Rainbow swore loudly, doing a loop the loop out of a combination of panic and frustration. Pinkie’s mane seemed to deflate slightly, a slightly worried expression gracing her features. Lyra seemed suddenly worried herself, her eyes widening at the implications of an unknown creature carting Twilight off to who-knew-where?

“Darling,” Rarity said quickly, looking moderately terrified herself. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You were right to call for help.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie added with a grin. “You're probably still a little tipsy from all that Ol’ Trotspur!”

Lyra smiled sheepishly. “Yeaaaah…”

Applejack, trying to remain calm, gripped the mint-green mare’s shoulders.

“Ok, Lyra, this is important,” she said seriously. “Where did you see them?!”

***

Change The (Wrong) World

“I am judgement, come for your head!”
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Rainbow Dash.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“That would be your mistake. You should be.”

***

The Everfree Forest. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

The first thing Twilight realised, when she woke up, was that she had a pounding headache. That made sense: she’d been hit by something heavy and metal. In fact, judging from the slightly blurry vision and the fact that she was feeling more than a little woozy, it didn't feel like too much of a stretch to imagine to herself that she had suffered a concussion. She'd probably be fine in a little while. Probably.

The next thing she noticed, which was rather more pressing in some ways than the possible concussion, was that she had been tied to a tree with what looked and felt like vines. She tested the bonds, trying them as best she could given her condition. They were strong, or at least strong enough that she, dizzy and headachey as she was, couldn't do anything about them.

“Don't bother,” the harsh voice of the biped spoke. Suddenly he came into view. He'd taken his leather jacket off, leaving him in his battered off-white shirt and trousers. A cursory glance showed the jacket hung on a nearby tree, the longer metal weapon leaning against the same tree. They were in a small clearing - presumably the Everfree Forest, judging from the canopy of thick leaves above them.

The creature crouched in front of her, bringing him to eye level with her, his face hard but impassive.

“I've never improvised with vines before,” he said, “but they seem to work quite well.”

“H… how long w-was I…?” Twilight asked.

“Unconscious? About an hour and a half,” the biped replied blandly. He gave a half smile. “Not a bad amount of time, really. Woulda thought you could take a hit better than that, but I guess it’s not too surprising to learn that you’re a glass cannon.”

“W-w-why did you hit me?” she asked, stammering through the dizziness of her concussion. She ignored being called a ‘glass cannon’, whatever that meant. “W-w-”

“Hang on,” he said, holding up a hand. There was, surprisingly, a soft golden glow, and then Twilight shook her head, feeling a little better. The biped’s expression hadn't changed.

“You… healed me,” she said.

“Yup,” he replied blandly. “I did.”

“You can do magic?” she asked, frowning. “Without a horn?”

“Yup,” he replied again, almost bored, as though this were self evident.

“I…” she began, then she shook her head. Another mystery, another time. “Thank you?”

“Don't,” he said. “There's no point interrogating a barely-conscious, stammering mess.”

Twilight blinked slightly. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” the creature said with a smirk. “‘Oh’. Glad we’re all aware of the seriousness of the situation. Should save time nicely.”

He sat down in front of her. He placed an object on the ground in front of her: she recognised it as a dagger. It was a good one foot long, slightly battered, and etched into the blade were two words: Speed Killer. Next to these words was a little symbol, one Twilight recognised - it was a stylised rendition of Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark.

“This is a dagger,” he said unnecessarily. She looked up at him, and he was smiling. “You might be wondering why I put it there.”

She nodded slowly.

“Simple,” he said. “It's my promise, of a sort, that I won't run you through with it until we’re done… unless you convince me not to.”

“You…” Twilight said, swallowing nervously. “You're going to kill me?”

“I might,” he said with a chuckle. “If I don't like your answers. Do you understand my meaning?”

Twilight nodded. “I… I think so. Why are you… why are you doing this?!”

“We’ll get to that,” he said, face stony. “Then we’ll begin.” He leant forward slightly. “You are Twilight Sparkle. Right?”

She nodded.

“Born in the year nine hundred seventy nine of the Single Celestian Throne Calendar?”

She nodded again.

“You have a brother - Shining Armour, born in the year nine six eight of the SCT calendar?” he continued. “And he's married to Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, born in the year nine hundred sixty four of the SCT calendar?”

Twilight nodded again, still not sure where this was all going.

“Now, after you found the Elements of Harmony and restored the late Princess Luna,” the biped said, “Equestria went to the New Diarchy Calendar, and in the third year of that, an island containing a mystical portal appeared off the coast of Manehatten.”

She frowned at that - the ‘late’ Princess Luna? But she was alive and well, the last Twilight had heard, and she was fairly sure she’d have heard about something that momentous occurring. And the rest…

“I… we do have the Diarchy Calendar,” she said quietly. “But… but I've never heard anything about an island off the coast of Manehatten. And Luna’s still alive.”

The creature raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? And I suppose the other world and the race inhabiting it that your people discovered would also something you've never heard of?”

“I… no,” Twilight said, still confused. “I would have known about something like that happening, but I've never heard a thing about mystical islands appearing.” She paused. “That kind of thing would be… pretty noticeable, anyway. What with the climatological and meteorological effects.”

The creature snorted. “You'd think so, huh? But then again, magic makes a lot of things possible that you'd never believe. Well, maybe you would. I dunno.”

Twilight shook her head. “Not without me hearing about it, it doesn't.”

“I’m not disputing you,” the creature said, holding up a hand again with a slight smirk. “In the fourth year of the New Diarchy Calendar -”

“Fourth?” Twilight asked, frowning. “But it's still only May of the Third.”

The creature’s smirk faded slightly. He said nothing for a long moment, and Twilight found herself feeling tense.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“I might - if I don't like your answers.”

What if he didn't like that piece of the truth? What if he hurt her?

“The third year of the New Diarchy Calendar. May.” He was looking thoughtful. “If that’s true, that’s very interesting.”

“W-why?” Twilight asked.

“Because,” the creature said, “the Manehatten Portal Island appeared in April. You should have heard of it.”

Twilight shook her head slowly. “I… I never have.”

The creature’s lips thinned, though his expression remained impassive. He raised a hand.

“You're quite sure?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” she stammered, wondering what he was going to do. He had already demonstrated magic - what if he tortured her?

He snorted, his eyes narrowing at her. “I guess we’ll see.”

There was a flash of light.

***

Blood.

Death.

Madness.

Ponification: the screaming of your friend as he is Converted and you have no choice but to put him down. No room for pity or remorse even as you slide the knife into this body and feel his struggles cease. You can grieve later, cry when death isn't at your door.

More screaming, the cries of soldiers and civilians alike as they burn, the yells and pleas of those you cannot save and the knowledge that they will be far from the last to -

A voice, calm but full of hidden, repressed fury, speaks names. Portal Island off the coast of Manehatten. Questions. Tell me what you know. You have no answers for it. You don't know what it means, and you don't know what it wants you to -

They are counting on you. All of them. Ponies nod in respect. Soldiers wave and cheer. The HLF hold you up as the human symbol, one untouched by ponies, the one they always wanted.

The PER run and hide even as they throw vitriol and hatred at you. They are afraid, and you can’t help but feel like that’s a good thing. They have a bounty out for you, or so you see from the notes written in boltholes and hidden rooms in subways, in houses, made by the traitorous bastards that are intent on destroying this speck that remains of humanity. The bounty says that whoever ponifies you could get a special Potion, transportation to Equestria, a rank among the nobility upon Conversion.

The potion simply burns against you. You learn that you can transfer this protection. It is declared a miracle, and who are you to argue? Armoured figures, crudely painted sword symbols on their armour chestplates, kneel before you, and you let them because it’s that or you break their hope, and who are you to do that?

Cults incorporate you into their paradigms - an exemplar of duty, an embodiment of Britannia or of Gaia herself, first knight and the legacy of Arthur… and some, the worst off (or the plain old mad if you wanted to be harsh) build idols in your honour. Something about that tugs the strings too far, like someone/somepony trying to break a violin, but these people need something, even if it’s just you.

Some of them - the worst of the worst, the detritus of the worst HLF or those who’ve seen too much to come out sane or the ex-Gileadites looking for something to believe - kill ponies “In your Name,” in spite of your having never mentioned such a thing. Those people you kill.

They all see in you the last hope any of them have to live, the last hope any of them have to see an end to this war that isn't -

It pushes harder. Troop positions. The Ivory Legions of the Imperial Guard in their silvery and off-white armour. The locations of Commander Sentry, Prince-Captain Armour, the False Alicorn Fortress-Monasteries of the Blade, the Wings, the Shield, the Eyes and the Horn…

More names: the foundries of Sol Invictus and his ‘weapons of faith’ that immolate and destroy, the great altars and temples of the Holy Empress, the houses of the great and the good of the Church, Blessed Star and her Solar Altars - the Beacons of Her Light… Archmagi, Arcane Fulcrums… the battlefleets, the forces of the Empire’s Zeppelins, the Gloriana Regalia, the Sidera Somniata, the Militus Sangunium, and the mightiest names of all, the Solar Glory, the Harmonious Order and its catastrophic destruction, the Pillar of Salvation…

All these words, and they mean nothing at all. All of these images, every single one of them alien and unfamiliar. But the images don't stop: you see it. The Ivory Guard marching to war, dauntless and relentless. Legions of winged soldiers (Alicorns? How?) flying into battle in giant cities made of concrete and steel that blot out the sun with their size -

- and then you fight. A sword as light as air swings, blocking spells and knocking away projectiles, javelins shattering and lance-tips coming away. Armour is like water, flesh like nothing at all. Fire surrounds you and engulfs you but you do not burn. Cruel laughter washes over you but turns into screams of terror and roars of anger even as the noise grows louder.

Six figures. One falls, then another. They get smarter. They fight harder. You bleed but you do not stop. You push on, and another falls, and another, and another -

- the Sub-Commanders are dead, tell me about Commander Sentry’s orders, what was the plan of attack -

“We’re predicting a full scale assault on London,” the heavily-armoured figure of Eric Smith says, still looking absurdly young given what he's been through, what he's seen. He looks at you with such hope in his eyes. He expects you to save them all: naive, and yet you trust him.

All around you march soldiers - many of them under your command, others serving different fighters. Ponies set up their bulky machine guns, Unicorns weave defensive spells, and Pegasi squadrons trot to staging points. More soldiers, the armoured Iron Clads or the elite troops in salvaged, patched up armour. Bizarre and unrecognizable machines march forward alongside the cacophonous rumble of tanks.

You smile tiredly, wondering why it is you are destined to live through this madness, wondering what kind of world the young will live to see or if anything like life before the War could ever arise -

- and standing behind the Ivory Legions and the war machines, beneath fleets of war-Zeppelins and legions of Pegasi… there stands Her, bedecked in beautiful golden armour and standing with a cold sneer on her imperious face. She is familiar and yet not so - you know who she is, but she is not who you thought she was. She is the great enemy, the one who commands the vile hordes that seek to destroy anything that stands against her. She who has laid waste the Empires of Griffons and Qilin, has shattered Hives, Roks and Mols, has battled Tengu and Tamamo No Mae, she who would -

***

Twilight’s head snapped back, and she blinked as the mind link broke. Her mind swam with images - soldiers, more bipeds like this creature, and ponies like herself as well. An Equestria set for war, an Equestria at war with -

And then the images faded from her mind as the creature in front of her lowered his hand, his eyes full of uncertainty piled upon uncertainty. Twilight looked at him, unfamiliar words swimming through her head.

“Who… who’s ‘Eric’?” she asked.

He didn't answer, instead standing up and turning away from her, moving to lean on another tree. She couldn't see his face, but if she had to hazard a guess she would have said he was more confused than she was. She wondered how to proceed - what she had seen was…

“A friend,” the creature answered suddenly. “Eric is my friend.” He turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed in what could only be described as worry. “You… don't know anything.”

“No,” she said with a slow nod. “Those images, that was -”

“Where I come from,” he said slowly. He was frowning at her. “It's impossible. How can you not know?”

She didn't answer, sensing that he was running through his thoughts aloud rather than asking her anything. She tried to think of how she could get free - he might still turn violent.

“You've got no memories of anything,” he said to her, running a hand over his face. “There's - there’s nothing. No troop movements, no… how? How can you not know any of that?!”

“Because I’ve never heard of any of it before today,” Twilight insisted quietly, trying to remain calm. “I - I've never heard of any ‘Ivory Guard’, or of…”

“But that's not possible!” he hissed, and faster than Twilight could see, he had rushed up to her, his knife grabbed from the ground in front of them and held at her throat. “You. Are. Lying.”

To her credit, Twilight held her nerve, even though she felt terrified. “I’m - I’m not. You've been in my head, you -”

“You're one of the most powerful mares in the entire Empire,” the creature said, his voice unnervingly calm as his face turned stone-cold. “There are any number of ways you could have fooled even my efforts to read your mind. You could have hidden your memory of those events somehow, or someone - somepony - else could have.”

“That’s incredibly complex magic,” Twilight said quietly, trying not to show fear even though the knife was hovering right by her neck.

“You're right, it is,” he said. “But for you? Cleverest magician in Equestria? It's not beyond the realms of possibility - quite the opposite, I’d have said.”

“I-I’m not lying,” Twilight said, eyes wide. She swallowed. “Please, I’m as confused as you are - let me - let me help you.”

His eyes were stony, and all expression left his face. A moment later, he snorted derisively.

“‘Help’,” he said, before spitting almost reflexively on the ground. “Two billion people burn to death when the Barrier sweeps them and their lands away, and you never offered help. What's so different now?”

Twilight’s eyes widened in horror. “Two… two billion?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that somehow surprising to you? Oh, wait, you've forgotten somehow.” He snorted derisively. “Just my luck that none of this shit could be simple.”

Twilight blinked several times, trying to even comprehend the number two billion. Two billion of what she could only assume were this creature’s people. Males, females, their foals… how? Why?

“W-what… what happened?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You really don't know?”

She was half tempted to point out that they had already established that, but she got the feeling that a sarcastic answer wouldn't go down well, so she simply nodded.

He frowned. “Alright, fine. I’ll play along with you for now. Not like you're going anywhere, huh?”

Twilight nodded nervously. The creature stood up, pushing off the ground and walking over to the tree where his jacket hung, picking it off of the branch and slipping it back on. His fingers brushed the metal weapon, then he turned to look at Twilight without picking it up.

“The year 2020,” he said quietly. “For me, twelve years ago. The planet Earth. I suppose you've never heard of it.”

She shook her head.

“Right,” he said, still looking dubious. He sat in front of her. “Well, I’m not in the mood for a history lesson. Basics - it’s big, it’s mostly oceans, and unlike Equus, the only civilisation on the planet was my people. Humans.”

Humans… Twilight thought, running the word through her head. Some sort of mythological being, something she had heard of once in a blue moon in obscure texts. She briefly recalled that Lyra had run a lecture on them in Ponyville, but she’d been busy cataloging. She wished she'd bothered going, now that she was faced with a real life human.

“So,” the human said. “In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the largest on our planet, an island appeared. Our own Portal Island.” He paused and have an almost wry smile. “There weren't many climatological or meteorological effects - that one did kind of throw some folks for a loop, so I hear, but what happened next was more interesting.” He took a breath. “Way I hear it told, a small research team landed. Portal Island was green, pleasant - and it had an anomaly on it.”

“The eponymous portal?” Twilight asked.

The human smirked slightly at that. “However did you guess, Commander?”

Twilight’s face fell. “I’m not a commander.”

He shrugged. “Force of habit, and anyway - we’ve proved nothing concrete yet. For all I know, this could still be some elaborate subterfuge. You lot have tried weirder shit over the years.”

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face. What would it take to convince this human that she wasn't who he thought she was?

He sighed, apparently collecting his thoughts. “So the team test the thing. It’s impassible. Nothing makes it through. Then something comes out.” He paused. “Your Princess Celestia.”

Twilight frowned at that. “Celestia? I don't understand - she’d have told me -”

“Maybe she did, Commander,” the human said darkly. Twilight frowned, but before she could say anything he continued. “So, Celestia opened diplomatic ties with humanity. For two years, humanity and your people are working on building a peace - a tentative, but reasonable, peace. A few ponies set up embassies, a few of your artists came here.” He looked at the sky. “And you know… it was nice. But nice stuff always has a darker edge.”

He sighed, looking back at Twilight. She waited for a moment before speaking.

“What went wrong?” she asked.

“The barrier - the portal wouldn't let humans or human-made objects through,” the human said quietly. “We had no way of building embassies in Equestria, of learning about your world, beyond what Celestia told us. That was obviously untenable - until Celestia told us about the potion.”

“The potion?” Twilight asked, frowning.

The word, when used in this context, was almost… familiar, almost like a forgotten dream.

“It doesn't matter,” he said quietly after a moment. “The point is, things went a little sour after that. Groups started fighting - some were too pro-pony, the the point of hating humanity. Some were too anti-pony, to the point of attacking embassies, killing some of the few pony officials who came over.” He paused, letting that sink in. “And then the barrier started… expanding.”

“Expanding?” Twilight repeated. “As in…”

“As in, it began expanding outward in a perfect circle, out from Portal Island, across the Pacific,” the human said, frowning at the memory. “It burned through countries. It burned away armies. We tried bombs, we tried guns, we tried energy shields - nothing worked.”

Twilight couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was… it sounded horrible. And the human wasn't even done.

“People panicked,” he continued. “Some of them killed themselves, some of them… chose other options.” He paused, something unreadable flickering across his features. “Eventually most of the world was gone. The ponies that had come to us either fled back to Equestria, or if they were too slow they were slaughtered in the streets.”

Twilight shook her head.

“I don't understand it,” she said, frowning. “What you're talking about doesn't make sense. It hasn't happened.”

The human growled at that. “It did happen. I was there. I was one of the people helping the refugees as they landed, shell shocked and terrified for their lives. It. Fucking. Happened.”

Twilight flinched at the vehemence in his words, even though the curse was unfamiliar. But none of what he was saying made sense.

“But I don't understand…” she said. “Didn't anypony try to help? To stop this… this barrier somehow?”

The human snorted. “No. Not in any way that did anything I’d define as helping, anyway.”

“Why would nopony help?!” Twilight asked desperately. “Celestia -”

“She let us die!” the human snarled. He calmed down. “She let us die. She stood by, and she watched.”

“That… isn’t her,” Twilight said emphatically. “Celestia would never just… just stand by and watch others suffer. Not when she could do something about it.”

The human stared at her for a minute, the look of anger still on his face. Slowly, a grim chuckle escaped his lips, though there was little mirth in it.

“‘Isn't her’, huh?” he asked. “I guess that explains a couple of things, especially -”

He paused. Something had cracked behind them, and in a flash he had turned around, the metal projectile weapon he had threatened Twilight with earlier out and aimed at the foliage.

“T-that might have been a timberwolf,” Twilight said quietly.

“And I'm Michael Jackson,” the human muttered. Whatever reference he was making was lost on Twilight, who frowned.

“If it's a timberwolf,” she said, “we might be in danger.”

The human snorted. “I've dealt with worse.” He paused, looking around. “It's not a timberwolf.”

“How do you know?” Twilight asked.

The human looked at her, an almost predatory gleam in his eye. “You think I never killed a pony in a forest before? I know what your kind sound like when they’re trying to be stealthy.”

The blunt way he said it threw Twilight off guard, and she fixed him with a look that he studiously ignored. He kept his weapon up and aimed outward.

“Come on,” he said, calling out to the wood. “I can wait here all day to -”

A rainbow-coloured blur slammed into him from the side, throwing him into a tree, where he slumped to the ground, at least momentarily stunned.

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash called out, a massive grin on her face. “Take that, you… human!”

***

I Will (Not) Give Up

***

“So then, little Applejack - come at me.”
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Applejack.

“Come on then, ya demon! Ah’m not gonna back down!”

“I’m glad. I’d have been disappointed if you did.”

***

Ponyville. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

About ninety minutes earlier.

The first thing the group had needed to do was go to Twilight’s library to get Spike. There, they had found Spike, who had been organising shelves for Twilight while she was at the pond writing her letter. He was more than a little annoyed at Lyra when he heard that she had had the chance to save Twilight from being foalnapped and hadn’t taken it.

“You mean you were more interested in the fact that the thing carrying her off might have been something from one of your stupid cryptozoology books than in the fact that it was carrying Twilight away?!” he had yelled at the mint-green Unicorn, who had the decency to at least look abashed. “Are you that stupid?!”

“Spike,” Applejack had said as diplomatically as she could, “we don’t need to make the poor mare even more guilty - she’s feelin’ it mighty fine as is.”

Spike had scoffed at that. “Oh, she feels guilty. Sure, that makes it ok!”

“Spike,” Pinkie had said quietly. “This isn't the time to start being mean. Lyra’s sorry. We need to send a letter to Princess Celestia and tell her Twilight’s been foalnapped!”

Spike had calmed down, nodding sullenly.

Quickly, Rarity had drafted the letter (with some choice edits made by Rainbow, which were surreptitiously scribbled out by Rarity the minute the cerulean mare was done) and Spike had sent it on its way. With that done, Spike had promised that he would wait here for the Princess to arrive.

Now the only thing they had to do was find Twilight.

***

“So this is where they entered the forest?” Applejack asked with a frown of consternation.

Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie and Lyra were standing at the edge of the Everfree forest. The looming trees cast a long shadow over the small group of mares. They stared into the forest - no matter how many times they had entered the Everfree, the old rumours of the place being haunted still leant a sense of dread to it. Still - their friend was in danger, and so they had to brave the place once again. Rainbow had gone to fetch Fluttershy and update her on precisely what was going on. Those two would meet up with them in the forest, where they would hopefully have found the human’s trail.

“This is the place,” Lyra said with a nod. “I’m sure of it!”

Pinkie had a look of unusual seriousness on her face. Rarity frowned at her.

“Pinkie, darling, are you alright?” she asked.

Pinkie suddenly smiled brightly. “Oh, sure, Rarity! I mean, worried for Twilight, but otherwise okie dokie lokey!”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “You looked a little… lost in thought.”

“Oh, that,” Pinkie said, waving a hoof almost nonchalantly. “I just had a feeling of foresomething.”

“Foreboding,” Lyra corrected absently.

“That’s the one,” Pinkie said brightly.

“Foreboding?” Rarity repeated. “Why do you have a feeling of foreboding?”

“I have no idea,” Pinkie said brightly, a smile lighting up her face. “I just kinda do. Kinda like a Pinkie sense.”

“And what's it saying?” Rarity asked.

“Just that this is… big,” Pinkie said quietly. “Or bigger than we think it is anyway.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves on this one,” Applejack said evenly. “We’ve got a pretty scary job ahead o’ us now. The future’s its own beast, an’ we’ll save it for when it comes, how’s about that?”

“That sounds like common sense,” Rarity said with a nod. “Which I think we’ve been sorely needing.”

“Right then,” Applejack said quietly. “Lyra, lead the way.”

“Me?” Lyra asked, looking at her with a frown of confusion.

“Eeyup,” Applejack said with a slightly wry grin. “After all - this is yer chance ta go meet yerself a real ‘hooman’ or whatever ya called it.”

“Human,” Lyra grumbled, but she smiled back, turning to look at the forest. Unlike the others, she had never ventured further than the edge of the Everfree. Despite being an alien forest of mystery the Everfree had never really contained animals that couldn’t be found elsewhere in Equestria. For how bizarre it was in all other aspects, the living woods were almost mundane to her. That and they were bucking terrifying, of course. Clouds that moved on their own were just uncanny.

Ok, Lyra, she thought to herself. This is your practice run for the round the world trip. If you can do this, you can travel to the ancient battle-plains of Dagoram. No pressure.

She took a breath, swallowed hard and led the way.

***

“So,” Pinkie asked quietly. “What is a ‘human’, anyway?”

They had been walking for maybe fifteen minutes. Most of that walk had been in tense silence - the others were still more than a little annoyed at Lyra for having let Twilight be foalnapped (seriously, what was I supposed to do? Charge it yelling ‘Mol Aurak Malaki’ and hope for the best?). Pinkie’s question was the first break in it since they had entered the Everfree.

“You were at my lecture,” Lyra pointed out.

“Yeeeaaah,” Pinkie said sheepishly, “I… kinda fell asleep. Just a little.”

Lyra sighed, this happened every time. “I was wondering who was snoring.” She paused. “Well, without repeating a whole three hour lecture -”

“Please don’t,” Applejack said quietly.

“- the humans are a mythical species that pop up in texts of ancient history,” Lyra said. “Most history only mentions them in the vaguest sense - the Jorogumo of Yamato called them ‘the first husbands’ - or maybe ‘the lovers’, or ‘the prey’.” She shuddered slightly at the thought. Reading up on Jorogumo mating was… not up there. “It kind of all means the same thing in their language. The Griffon Empire has records of ‘strange bipeds’ from the East, but that’s from the original Aquilan Empire so it’s fragmentary history at best. Horssia and Mongeldia have the most -”

“I thought you weren’t going to repeat the whole lecture,” Rarity said scathingly.

Lyra glowered at her. “Ok, fine. Best way to put it simply is, ‘they’re an ancient mythical race and nopony or anything else seems to have a clear idea what they are’. Happy?”

“See, was that so hard?” Rarity asked sarcastically.

“No, but it was the grossest oversimplification of my career since I described the Qilin as ‘basically ponies’ in my first cryptozoological essay,” Lyra said, shuddering slightly. “That was embarrassing.”

The memories of mocking laughter came to mind. It had been a bad idea to immediately start presenting before the Obscure Bestiary Community at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns in her first week as a member.

“‘Course, then I did my paper on the Ayakashi of Yamato and all the different races that live there, and that made up for that debacle brilliantly,” Lyra added with a slightly nostalgic grin on her face. “Though, have you ever tried researching Kitsune? Really hard. It doesn’t help when half the stuff you read about them was Tamamo No Mae literally writing nonsense to prank future historians…”

As Lyra looked at her travelling companions she could see that everything she was saying was washing over them without any recognition. Once again her attempt to talk about her life’s work was hampered by her fellow ponies’ ignorance to the world around them.

Philistines, she thought to herself with a roll of her eyes.

“Anyway,” Applejack said brusquely. “Ah haven’t seen any sign of a trail - this ‘human’ must be pretty good at hidin’ his tracks.”

“Or we’re lost,” Rarity added. “Either’s possible.”

“Nah, we ain’t lost,” Applejack said, turning to glower at Rarity. “Ah know nature, and mah sense o’ direction is second to no-”

With a thump, she walked straight into Rainbow Dash, who had been walking diagonally across her path. The two ponies collapsed in a heap, as the butter-yellow form of Fluttershy appeared immediately next to them.

“Oh dear!” she exclaimed. “Applejack, Rainbow Dash, are you alright?”

“Fine,” Rainbow said with a wince. “Though I think Applejack may have bruised one of my ribs.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rarity said with a scowl. “I doubt your impact could have been that bad.”

“Applejack’s never run into you,” Rainbow pointed out with a slight frown of her own. “Anyway, we picked up the trail.”

Fluttershy coughed, a slightly shy look on her face.

“Well, Flutters did,” Rainbow corrected, slightly sheepish.

“I know a little bit about tracking,” Fluttershy said modestly. “And I think whatever this ‘homon’-”

“Human,” Lyra corrected testily.

“Sorry, human,” Fluttershy said, blushing slightly. “Whatever this human is, it’s wearing shoes.”

There was a momentary pause at that. Finally, Applejack, who had pulled herself up from the ground with a huff, raised an eyebrow.

“It’s… wearing… shoes,” she said.

“Yeah,” Fluttershy said. “It’s tracks aren’t made by natural feet, they’re shoeprints.”

“Huh,” Lyra said with a frown. “That implies that he’s from a civilisation, at least. They’d need to have at least a basic infrastructure to have shoemakers.”

“I wonder what else they have?” Rarity pondered aloud. “What might an entirely different species’ dress sense be like -”

“Fascinating as their fashion is to discuss,” Rainbow said sarcastically, cutting her friend off, “Twilight’s still in danger. The tracks lead further into the Everfree.”

“He might be at an old clearing that some bears use occasionally,” Fluttershy said quietly. “Come on!”

She led the way, and the others followed quickly.

***

Canterlot Palace. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Canterlot was the jewel of Equestria. It had once been called a fortress disguised as a fairytale, and that was a more than apt description: elegant spires glittered, marble and magical false-ivory glimmering in the beautiful daylight. the city glowed as the white marble of the walls and the golden decorations that adorned every district and structure caught the sunlight and reflected it. The city sprawled over the Canterhorn Plateau and hung over the edge of the steep cliff that led down the side of the enormous lone mountain.

At the centre of it all was the Royal Castle, a beautiful palace that exhibited every feature of Classical Equestrian architecture. Here the tallest towers in the entire city looked out and surveyed all, serving as both a historic landmark and a reminder to the ponies of Equestria that their princess was watching over them.

Upon a throne in Canterlot palace sat one half of the diarchy itself: Princess Celestia. The alabaster mare was regal, long wings and a graceful form holding strength and delicacy all at once, the very picture of marehood who could lead armies at the turn of a pin and yet bring peace and understanding with a few words and a simple nod. Ageless eyes seemed to survey everything with a slightly amused expression permanently residing there.

“So,” she said to her attending Guard, a grey Earth Pony named Steady Hoof. “What’s on the agenda for today, Guardspony Hoof?”

He checked a list in his hooves. “Prince Blueblood’s got an appointment at three, your majesty, to discuss the holding of this year’s fifth Ducal Airship Race.”

Celestia scoffed good naturedly. “Mainly so he can defeat all the comers again in the Sunrider. Still, that shouldn’t be more than a formality, and it’s always good to check on family. Hopefully he won’t make much of a scene when he wins.”

Hoof rolled his eyes. “Yes, Your Highness. Also, there are some minor reports of territorial disputes heating up in the colonies on our border with the Griffon Empire.”

At this, Celestia sighed. “Again. I shall have to have a word with Emperor Augustus - much as I respect the amount of power he’s devolved to these local colonial governors, they take too many liberties.”

“Couldn’t comment, ma’am,” Hoof said. “Also, you’ve a letter from Tamamo No Mae -”

“You haven’t opened it, have you?” Celestia interrupted with slight concern in her voice.

“N… no, ma’am,” Hoof said, confusedly.

Celestia chuckled. “Well, don’t. If it’s not a slightly overly-dangerous prank, I’ll go on a diet for a month.”

Hoof blinked, hesitant to comment on what his princess had just said. “Ah. Well, I’ll have that sent up to your quarters posthaste, Your Highness.”

Celestia chuckled. “And other than that, nothing?”

“That’s correct, ma’am,” Hoof said with a nod. “I dare say -”

With a flash of green light, a scroll appeared in front of Celestia. She blinked: a friendship report from Twilight Sparkle? But Twilight didn’t usually send them at this time of day, unless -

She opened it quickly, her eyes scanning the parchment. After a moment, she lowered the paper, her eyes wide and her expression full of shock - and worry.

“Guardspony Hoof,” she said quietly. “Summon my sister. Now.”

Steady Hoof saluted and dashed off at once, and for that, Celestia was grateful. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to react to something. She reread the parchment.

Dear Princess Celestia,

Twilight has been foalnapped by a creature we are told is called a ‘hooman human’ by Lyra Heartstrings. We are endeavouring to track it into the Everfree Forest, but I fear we shall need your assistance with whatever brutish creature this thing may be, ‘human’ or otherwise.

Your subject,

Rarity.

Celestia’s lips thinned in concern. She couldn’t believe what she had just read. This… was troublesome. Very troublesome.

***

A few minutes later, they reached the clearing. Approaching carefully, they tried to see if they could see anything, but much of the foliage was too dense.

“Careful now,” Applejack whispered. “This thing might be dangerous - we don’t know what it’s got.”

“If Twilight’s in danger, we can’t spend forever being careful,” Rainbow hissed. “I say we rush it!”

“If we rush it,” Rarity pointed out, “then it might just -”

The snapping of a twig made them all hush. They looked amongst each other, only to see Pinkie Pie standing on the broken twig in question. She looked up at them all sheepishly.

“Oopsie?” she said quietly.

Before any of them could say anything else, a strident male voice called out into the woods, its tone commanding - not to say intimidating.

“Come on,” the voice yelled. “I can wait here all day to -”

In a flash, Rainbow had moved before anypony could stop her. Groaning in frustration, Applejack went after her, and the others followed. The element of surprise, for what little it was worth, had been lost.

“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash called out from somewhere. “Take that, you… human!”

“Rainbow!” Twilight’s voice yelled, sounding shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your flank of course,” Rainbow said with a raised eyebrow. “Whaddya think I’m doing here? And the best bit is, I didn’t come alone.”

It was at this point that Applejack and the others finally managed to get through the foliage. They saw that Rainbow had knocked the human into a tree, where it lay stunned. Twilight was nearby, tied to a tree by some thick vines.

“Are you alright?” Fluttershy asked her, clearly feeling beyond worried.

“I’m fine, apart from being tied to a tree,” Twilight replied, “but -”

“NO!” the harsh voice of the human yelled out in absolute shock.

The ponies turned to look at where the bipedal thing had fallen. It was stood, staring at the group in what could only be described as horror, or possibly fear, though neither emotion made sense to any of the ponies.

“You're… you're dead,” it said simply, his voice shaking. “I… you… you’re dead! You're dead! Y-you're DEAD!”

Rainbow smirked cockily, flexing her wings. “I know you are, but what am I?!”

Before the human could answer or any of the others could stop her, Rainbow dashed at it again - only for it to grip her hooves, blocking her charge. Applejack blanched - Rainbow charging was not something she had ever imagined anypony being able to just stop like that.

Rainbow and the human grappled with each other for a minute, before the biped shoved her hard enough to send her to the other side of the clearing. Stunned momentarily, Rainbow shook her head, before glaring at the creature. The others spread out, suddenly sensing that something unpleasant was about to happen.

“What… what the hay are you?” she asked.

The human flexed its muscles, though it still looked shocked. “This is a nightmare. This is a fucking nightmare.”

Lyra and Pinkie exchanged confused glances. What was it talking about?

The human narrowed his eyes, before taking what could only be called a combat stance. “I killed you once. Nightmare or not, I can do it again.”

And then without warning, the thing charged straight at Applejack. She had time to steel herself before he reached her, lashing out with a fist. She tried to block, but then his other fist caught her in the chest. He grabbed her by the throat, hefted her and then threw her heavily to the ground, but before he could capitalise on this brutal assault, Rainbow had charged at him again.

He took a solid hoof to the face, and another, before he was able to start blocking her moves, moving faster than any of the mares could have imagined. Rainbow lashed out, again and again, but he blocked every blow until he caught one hoof in his palm, closed his grip around it, gripped her foreleg at the elbow and swung her straight into a tree.

Before he could take advantage of the brief moment disabling the Pegasus had given him, he was hit by spells from Rarity. The alabaster Unicorn fired spell after spell at him, the same type she had seen Twilight use to stun the Changelings at the Royal Wedding (she’d insisted on learning it, in case of future emergencies). Impossibly, the first one only manage to knock him off balance, making him stumble, and then he held up a hand, blocking the others like he had blocked the attacks from Rainbow Dash. He held up his hand, and suddenly a bolt of golden light flashed past Rarity, hitting a tree and causing a small fire. Yelping in alarm, the seamstress ducked behind some cover.

There was a brief moment of calm as the human stood, breathing heavily.

“Well?!” he yelled at them. “What else?!”

A purple spell smashed into his head, knocking him straight off of his feet and flipping him over, where he landed in a heap. He growled, pushing himself up slowly, and found himself facing Twilight Sparkle, who had been untied by Pinkie. The pink Earth Pony was stood slightly behind her friend, looking somewhere between confused and worried.

The human’s expression was one almost of betrayal as he regarded Twilight.

“And I was almost believing you,” he said quietly. “Well, you’re a damn clever bitch, I’ll give you that Commander.”

“I’m not a Commander,” Twilight said quietly. “And I just wanted to stop you from hurting my friends. If you’ll just let us explain -”

“There’s nothing to explain,” the human snapped at her. “I came here for somepony else anyway - running into you was just a bonus. I don’t know how you’ve managed to come up with this lot,” he gestured at the others, who were gathering around him, each of them standing tensely, “but…”

He trailed off, his eyes landing on Lyra. She was looking at him with an expression somewhere between fear and amazement.

“Lyra?” he said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

She didn’t answer, but her eyes widened in shock. The human seemed to stare at her for a moment, the look in his eyes one of yearning, as if he was searching for some sign of recognition on Lyra’s part. Lyra, in return, simply stared back in shock, her excitement over seeing a real live human swamped by her terror at seeing such an angry and aggressive creature.

“How do you know Lyra?” Twilight asked with a frown.

The human looked up at her, and suddenly his face was a mask of rage. “What did you do to my friend?”

“Your - what?” Twilight said, frowning. “I don’t…”

He didn’t answer, instead suddenly rolling to the side, heading for the tree with his metal weapon. In a flash, Twilight blasted the thing in two.

“Bitch!” the human swore as he reached the tree.

He reached inside, pulling the other dagger he had had before out of the coat, before dodging backwards as Twilight sent another spell, this one a stunning spell. He rolled and sent a leg out, landing in a crouched position, before launching himself at Twilight. She quickly put a shield up, and he slammed into it with a snarl. Acting fast, Twilight extended the field until it surrounded him completely, trapping him and preventing him from reaching any of her friends.

“Please!” she said. “I just want to talk with you!”

He dropped the dagger, considering his options. And then he did something Twilight would have called both impossible and stupid.

He punched it. Once, twice, three times, his face contorting into an increasingly extreme mask of rage. It didn’t seem to be having any effect - and then his hands started glowing with some sort of golden light. A fourth punch impacted the shield - and Twilight felt it weaken. A fifth punch lashed out, and the same happened again, a definite feeling that the shield’s integrity was failing.

“Rarity, Lyra, help me,” she said, her voice small. “I don’t think I can hold him for long.”

Rarity and Lyra stepped up, their own horns glowing, but he just kept punching, and though Twilight felt the others add their strength to the shield, his punches were still weakening it. And then, horrifically, it started cracking. The surface of the shield was fragmenting like a pane of glass struck by a rock. He punched again: the power his hands seemed to be surrounded by augmenting the power of his increasingly enraged punches until finally, with one last punch, the shield shattered and the human grabbed Twilight by the throat and hefted her.

“What. Did. You. Do?!” he snarled in her face.

“I-I d-don’t kn-kn-know w-what y-you’re t-t-t-talking ab-bout!” Twilight stuttered, her voice cracking through his chokehold. “P-p-please, let go!”

The human said nothing, his grip only tightening…

… and then another voice cut through the forest.

“Let go of my student.”

In a heartbeat, the human had dropped Twilight, and she landed on the ground heavily. Twilight looked up, and to her immense relief she saw her mentor, Princess Celestia, standing in the clearing, her eyes blazing with righteous anger. They were saved.

“Twilight,” she said quietly. “Take your friends and go.”

“You,” the human whispered, eyes wide.

Twilight looked up at him, but he had apparently forgotten all about her. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Celestia. Twilight quickly scrambled away, standing on the edge of the clearing, as the others moved to do the same.

“Bold of you,” the human said to Celestia, “to come alone.”

“She did not,” another voice said stridently. On the other side of the clearing, Princess Luna appeared, an expression of disdain on her graceful features. She was shorter than her sister, but only just, and she held herself with more authority and less calm wisdom than Celestia did, giving the younger Princess a burning energy her sister lacked.

The human’s eyes flicked over to her, a slightly ironic grin gracing his features.

“Oh, well now,” he said. “This is nice.”

“I am Princess Celestia, Diarch of Equestria, Princess of the Adamantine line, supreme commander of all Equestria-at-arms,” Celestia said, and Twilight’s eyes widened at the collection of titles, some of which were rarely - if ever - used anymore. Twilight had read some of the more detailed history books, and Celestia’s collection of titles was certainly… impressive. “You will name yourself and your purpose in Equestria.”

“You’re a lying bitch,” the human said to her, still grinning. “That’s not your name at all, or at least not anymore it isn’t. Still, since you asked…”

He held out a hand, and his smaller projectile weapon suddenly flew from where it had landed to his outstretched palm. He brought it up, and before Twilight could shout a warning the weapon fired, a large bang sounding through the forest. He fired again and again, at least six times, before the weapon clicked.

Celestia stood impassively. Between her and the human was a golden field of energy that had blocked his projectiles, melting them almost in an instant and rendering them to slag. With a smirk, he tossed the weapon aside.

“Figures,” he said. “Couldn’t have been that easy.”

“Many have tried to kill me before,” Celestia said evenly. “Usually, I know why.”

“If you have to ask, you’re just insulting me,” the human said. “Clever trick, whatever you did to Sparkle to make her forget the war. That one threw me for a minute.”

Celestia frowned in confusion. Luna, on the other hand, snorted in derision.

“What war?” she asked, stepping up to join her sister. “We have not encountered anything like thee in many millennia, let alone waged war against thou or thine kin.”

“That trick’s a better one, though,” the human said, gesturing at Luna. “How’d you do it? Illusion spell? Necromancy? Some trick where you made an FA look like her?”

Luna scowled. “I do not know what an ‘FA’ is, and I am alive and well. Thou art delusional, creature.”

“And thou art a mockery of a mare who died ten years ago,” the human replied without missing a beat, “but we all have our flaws, I guess.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

The human rolled his shoulders back, ignoring her. He gestured at Celestia, almost casually.

“So, before we begin do you at least want to use your proper name?” he asked. “Or are we content for the lying to be how we do this? Because there’s probably a good reason you wanna carry the charade on, but it’s really getting old.”

“It’s no charade,” Celestia said quietly.

“Whatever,” the human shrugged. “It’s all fine by me. I get to kill you either way.” He drew himself up, a soft glow suddenly coming over his skin. “If you will not name yourself, then I name you - Astra Solamina Maxima.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that.

“‘The supreme, resplendent, Royal Sun’?” Celestia translated, frowning in confusion.

“A grandiose title that thou art not fit to hold,” the human sneered. “Thou art a Demon-Empress and the scourge of Earth, an enemy of all humankind. Thou art a murderer, and in thine name a thousand atrocities have been committed. No more.”

The change in his manner was so abrupt that Celestia found herself feeling wary. Something was afoot - and that glow was a form of magical power, though she was having difficulty getting a read on it.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am Death, come for my due,” he said, beginning to pace around her, forcing her and Luna to pace too. “I am justice, come for your head. I am David Elliot of Earth.”

The glow only got brighter, and suddenly there was a flash of light that surrounded the figure, blinding everypony there. When the light receded, the figure that had been standing there had been replaced by something else.

It was the same human - he had the same features, though the stubble had resolved itself into a full beard. His black mane had grown, blowing about his head as if stirred by wind of its own. In place of his battered clothes, however, he wore shining silver armour, ornate and beautiful. Interlocking plates covered him, across the chest, the arms and right the way down the legs, only a few gaps showing shining silver ringmail underneath. In one hand he held an ornate longsword, long and elegant with golden letters etched into the blade and a ruby set into the golden hilt. Slung over his shoulders was a hooded cloak in deep burgundy.

“I am the vengeance of a world,” he intoned, his voice deep and full of some hidden power. “I am the Avatar of Albion, and I swear, I will kill you, Tyrant.”

***

You Are (Not) My Enemy

***

“Ah… now you fight.”
The Avatar, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Rarity.

“And what are you supposed to be?”

“I am vengeance. I am justice. I am your death.”

***

The Everfree Forest. May 5th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

There was a long moment of silence after the human’s declaration. Twilight and the others were staring at him in shock - the transformation had been entirely unlike anything they'd ever seen, and the human was radiating waves of power. Twilight was at once horrified and fascinated. Nearby, Lyra’s eyes were as round as saucers, as though entire new angles of research were being drawn up in her mind as she watched this impossible being.

Celestia and Luna, for their part, seemed to remain mostly impassive. The Lunar Diarch had snorted, a look of unimpressed scorn gracing her features. Celestia’s expression was more neutral, though traced with an edge of caution as she watched the figure.

“So,” the human - this Avatar of Albion, whatever that was supposed to mean - said, his voice still resonant. “Shall we begin?”

He held his sword up one handed in a stance that could only be interpreted as a challenge. With a snort, Luna took a step forward, her horn glowing. Twilight shrank back, motioning for her friends to take cover - if they really were going to fight, it might well get… well, ugly, if that was the right word for higher beings engaging in conflict.

Celestia began pacing around the creature. He kept his sword aimed at her, though he also kept his eye on Luna. He had a small half-smile on his face.

And then they moved.

Luna’s horn flashed, a spell dashing towards him. He moved his sword, which - impossibly - caught the spell, before he deflected it back at Luna. She raised a shield and the deflected spell impacted it harmlessly. Celestia, meanwhile, launched her own spell, and the human had to hold up a hand, a golden field of energy appearing between him and her that bore the brunt of the spell’s power. He lowered his hand, and he suddenly charged at Celestia, bringing his sword to bear. In a flash, she had leapt above him, dodging the strike, before landing next to Luna. The human stopped himself, before turning, only to find Luna and Celestia sending a combined spell at him. With a slight groan of irritation, he held his sword up and caught the spell, though the force managed to knock him off balance and throw him backwards through the air - where he suddenly stopped, hanging in mid-air for a moment, before lowering to the ground, spinning his sword as he did so before moving into a guard stance.

“Interesting,” was all he said, his smile gone.

Twilight turned to Lyra, who was frantically scribbling notes in her notebook, a look of wonder on her face.

“Did you ever hear of humans being able to do this?” she hissed.

“No!” Lyra replied with wide eyes. “It's awesome! We’re learning so much from one fight!”

“We might end up learning what it's like to get smushed by one o’ them spell's they're throwin’ about,” Applejack commented grimly.

“I say we help,” Rainbow said with a snort of anger as the human blocked a spell Celestia threw at him. “We rush him, and then -”

“And then what?” Applejack asked. “Ya’ll think we can just buck him in the head ‘til he drops?”

“As opposed to what, running?” Rainbow snarled.

“Eeyup,” Applejack nodded grimly, her eyes returning to the fighting Alicorns and human. He had thrown another spell, this one barely blocked by a shield from Luna. “Ah ain't normally one fer abandonin’ anypony, but what can we do here?!”

“I agree,” Rarity said quietly. “We can’t help here. It’s not our arena.”

Rainbow growled in frustration. “What do you say Twi?”

Twilight pursed her lips. “We have to stay.”

“Twi -!” Applejack began.

“There's more to this than we know!” Twilight insisted. “That human thinks Celestia is this… ‘Solamina’, whoever that is. This is a case of -”

A spell flashed above her head - while she had been talking, the human had been deflecting more spells, his half-smile returning. Celestia and Luna had been moving to flank him, but he had remained resolutely in position, dodging or blocking everything they threw at him, throwing more spells in return.

And then, as she and Luna stood on opposite sides of the human, Celestia grinned.

“Now!” she yelled. A spell shot out from her horn that seemed to splash on an invisible wall between her and the human, before encompassing half of him. Luna shot a similar spell and its own energy splashed around, and after a moment the human was completely encased in a bubble of magic. He slowly lowered his sword, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Tricky,” Celestia said. “I don't think we’ve fought something like that in…”

“… years,” Luna finished.

Twilight frowned. The Alicorns weren't looking at the human, so they didn't see his expression change within the bubble. He was smiling.

“Celestia!” she called out. Celestia glanced up and looked at her. “Watch out!”

Celestia frowned, before looking at the human. He'd sheathed his sword for a moment, instead holding out both hands, and a golden glow was building up within the bubble of magic Celestia and Luna had created. Suddenly, there was a shockwave as the bubble exploded outward, slamming Luna into a tree and Celestia through the clearing. Luna, dazed, slumped to her knees. Twilight, who had barely managed to throw her own shield up in time to avoid being hurt, was shocked - she had only once seen a being fight Celestia at her own level, and that had been Queen Chrysalis after stealing enough love to overcharge herself. To see it again was disconcerting.

But what caught Twilight’s attention most was the human himself. He was knelt at the centre of what had been the bubble, surrounded by charred grass. He seemed to be recovering from his exertions, his eyes closed and a pained expression on his face. Twilight frowned - had he injured himself, or was he merely not powerful enough to use such a strike without consequences?

He looked up as Celestia landed nearby, a look of consternation on her face as he stood up, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. She watched him carefully, pacing around him to reach Luna. She glanced down at her, checking her injuries.

“A powerful assault,” he commented quietly as he stood. “And yet, not lethal. Curious that after slaying so many of my kind you should be so hesitant to slay me.”

Celestia snorted in either what was either irritation or derisive amusement, Twilight couldn't tell which.

“I’ve killed a lot of things over the centuries,” she said candidly. “But I can't say I’ve ever killed one of your kind.”

The human had his sword up and aimed it at her in challenge, but made no further move. Luna, shaking her head, stood up and returned back to Celestia’s side. She growled as she looked at the human.

“Our spell didn't work,” she said to Celestia quietly.

“No, really?” the Sun Diarch hissed. “I would never have guessed.”

“If you're lying or hiding your identity, I fail to see the point,” the human said bluntly, before either pony could say anything else. They turned to look at him. “And I don't see how you could be doing anything other than lying.”

“Your inability to see the truth is not our problem,” Luna said grimly. “You attacking us and our subjects is our problem.”

“And the fifteen million lives I fight to protect are mine, False Luna,” the human retorted. As Luna growled in rage, the figure raised his blade high in an ox-guard. “For them, I will give anything.”

Celestia frowned, glancing between Luna and the human and raising a wing to place between them.

“Sir,” she began slowly, “you must realise there is more to this than you believe. You can see that I am not trying to injure you. You have already seen that we are not acting as you expect. You are not an unreasoning savage.” At that, Luna snorted, but Celestia silenced her with a glare before looking at the human again. “Surely you must be able to see that we are not your enemy, whoever that pony may be.”

The human tilted his head. “You are the Alicorn who raises and holds the sun. There can be no mistake. You are Solamina.”

“Before today,” Celestia retorted, “I had never heard that name.”

“So you claim,” the human said, lowering his guard slightly, a frown slowly developing on his face. “Why would you lie?”

“The simple answer,” Celestia said quietly, “is that I am not.”

The human lowered his sword further. “This is too strange. There is too much about this place that I do not under-”

A sudden spell flashed, smacking into his shoulder and sending him spinning into a tree, before he crashed heavily onto the ground, apparently unconscious. There was a momentary glowing, and then in place of the armoured figure was the battered clothes. Whatever transformation the human had undergone, it had reversed.

“LUNA!” Celestia snapped, looking at her sister, whose eyes were narrowed at the prone human.

“He is a threat,” the Moon Diarch snapped. “We cannot simply stand here talking!”

“I almost had him!” Celestia growled. “He was almost convinced that we weren’t his enemy!” She sighed heavily, her anger apparently draining. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“I am sorry, sister,” Luna said quietly. “I only did what I thought was best.”

“I know,” Celestia said quietly. She looked over to Twilight. “Twilight, are you alright?”

Twilight moved from cover, her eyes wide with shock. She had seen Celestia worried, Celestia angry, and she had even seen Celestia fight against Chrysalis, but she had never seen anything quite like this fight before. It was like seeing an entirely new side of her beloved mentor, a side she wasn't sure she liked.

“Twilight?” Celestia asked again.

The purple mare nodded slowly. “I'm… ok.”

“You're not hurt, any of you?” Celestia added, looking over the others as they moved out of cover.

“Few bruises,” Applejack said shortly. “Ah reckon this human thing was a little tougher than it looked.”

“Yes,” Celestia said quietly, looking the prone human over. With a gentle tug of her magic, she pulled him so he was lying on his back. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be breathing shallowly. A trickle of blood had come out of his nose. Twilight moved up to stand near her, frowning at the human in concern.

“Curious,” Luna said quietly from behind Celestia.

“What is?” Twilight asked.

The Moon Diarch glanced at Twilight, an oddly sad expression on her face. “This creature. He is… an oddity.”

“He's a human!” Lyra’s voice cut in excitedly. She trotted up, moving to stand next to Twilight with wide eyes. She began muttering to herself quietly. “Clothes made from leather suggest a predatory species. He had weapons, language, comparatively hairless skin… so many things in the cryptozoological files just got proved and disproved all at once.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “You know something of humans, my little pony?”

Lyra took a moment to realise that she was being addressed by Celestia herself, and suitably composed herself.

“Everything there is to know from the books I've found,” she replied proudly. “Uh… your highness.”

“Everything?” Celestia repeated. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. They're generally said to come from the North - there are stories of tribes of Horses that knew them, and their name comes up in Jorogumo, Griffon and Qilin legends, especially the Jorogumo. And their name in Kitsune legend translates to…” Lyra paused, frowning thoughtfully. “I think the exact word translates as ‘dangerous fools’, though it might just be a word for anyone they try to trick or prank.”

“Not quite,” Luna said with a slight smile of her own. “In days past, Kitsune who… ‘pranked’ one of these creatures of sufficiently high rank would find themselves lynched if they were not cautious.”

“Oh,” Lyra said, blinking. “Wow. That… wow.”

“You know a surprising amount,” Celestia congratulated the mint-green mare. “I’ve not met a scholar with such knowledge of species beyond our borders in many years.”

“I… read a lot,” Lyra said sheepishly, embarrassed by the praise from her princess.

“So you know about humans?” Twilight asked, looking up at Celestia.

The Sun Diarch looked down at her student with a slight smile. “We did. A long time ago, before much of what is considered ‘recorded history’. Something tells me this human has a stranger tale to tell than most, though.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “He… does. I think.”

“Did he reveal anything to you?” Luna asked with a frown.

Twilight took a breath. “He comes from a world where he's at war with ponies, I think.” She looked up at Celestia. “He seemed to think I was a commander in the army - and that you were leading this attack.”

Celestia raised a wry eyebrow. “Funny. You'd think I'd remember fighting a war.”

“He called you ‘Solamina’,” Luna said quietly, her normal formal tone softening slightly. “That's an old High Unicornic name, I believe, but I can't recall having ever heard it before.”

“It isn't one that's ever existed,” Celestia said quietly. “‘Astra Solamina Maxima’. The royal sun, resplendent and supreme, in feminine form. A title only one mare could have any right to.”

“But thou hast never taken such a title,” Luna said with a frown.

“No,” Celestia said quietly. “I haven't.” She scrutinised the human carefully, as though trying to divine the answers she sought from closed eyes and quiet breaths. “Twilight, did you learn much about his world?”

“Only that billions of his kind are dead,” Twilight said quietly. “Some sort of ‘barrier’…”

With as much detail as she could, Twilight went through everything the human had said to her during their conversation. She tried to be as detailed as she could, knowing anything she said might prove useful. Luna and Celestia said nothing, nodding along. Lyra, meanwhile, had whipped out a notebook and was jotting down everything. The others slowly moved out from cover, moving to stand next to Twilight as she spoke.

“… of course,” she said quietly, “I couldn't convince him. I almost had, but -”

“But he was stubborn, clearly,” Celestia said quietly. “As might any of us be when faced with one who looks so much like our enemy.”

“I don't understand,” Rainbow said quietly. “How can we be his enemy? We’ve never seen him, or anything like him…”

“There are many things in this world beyond that known by the ponies of this age,” Luna said quietly. “A long time ago, there were many creatures like this being, with their own civilisation.”

“There were?” Lyra asked, eyes almost bugging out of her skull. “What happened to them?”

Celestia shook her head. “A good question for another day. This being, though, cannot be one of them. He must have come from another world.”

Twilight frowned. “Another world? I've heard legends of -”

“Hold up,” Applejack frowned. “Another world? Ya’ll mean there’re other worlds?”

“So the theory goes,” Twilight said with a slight smile. “Legends have existed of worlds beyond our own for decades. Starswirl the Bearded even wrote on the subject.”

“Starswirl did far more than write on the subject,” Luna said quietly, with a reminiscent smile of her own. “His research was… very thorough.”

“And there are other worlds,” Celestia added, “far beyond our own.”

“So… this creature is from one of these ‘other worlds’?” Rarity asked with a frown of confusion. “I’m… afraid I don't understand how that could be possible.”

Celestia and Luna shared a glance.

“Neither do I,” the Moon Diarch said quietly. “Travel between worlds was Starswirl’s dream, one he desperately desired to accomplish. Some think he did.”

“Starswirl the Bearded disappeared,” Twilight said with a frown. “You think he travelled to another world?”

“He certainly left this one,” Celestia said with a wry smile. “But that isn't important: this creature couldn't have used the same method.”

“We would have known,” Luna said quietly.

“So whaddya think we should do with it?” Rainbow asked, looking the thing up and down.

Celestia and Luna shared a glance. Twilight frowned as the two seemed to be almost having a conversation with each other.

“We have to know,” Celestia said after a moment. “Where he came from. What he's doing here. Why he thinks we’re his enemy.”

“Why does it matter?” Rainbow asked, scoffing. her amused expression faltered slightly at Celestia’s slight frown. “Uh… I mean… I’m sure it doesn't.”

“What makes you say that?” Celestia asked quietly, her expression not changing.

Rainbow swallowed nervously. “Well, with all due respect… because he's crazy.”

“‘Crazy’?” Luna repeated.

“Well yeah,” Rainbow said with a shrug, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s nuts - I mean he thinks you're somepony called ‘Solemna’, whatever that means -”

“Solamina,” Celestia corrected gently, a soft smile gracing her face. “It's ancient Unicornic. And what he says might not be as far-fetched as it sounds.”

“But how could it not be?” Rarity asked with a frown. “I mean, could he be from some ghastly future?”

“No,” Twilight said. “He said there were events that should have already happened - that we should already have seen a portal off of the coast of Manehatten.”

“There has been no such portal,” Luna said quietly. “We would have known.”

“So he's from another world,” Celestia said quietly. “A world very much like our own - but with key differences as well. Including this… Solamina.” She took a breath. “We need to know more.”

“We could invade its mind,” Luna said sternly, looking down at the unconscious human. “Take what information we need from it.”

“No,” Celestia said quietly. “That would constitute an unacceptable breach of its privacy. He isn't our enemy - not yet.”

“It declared itself so,” Luna retorted.

“Which is likely a case of mistaken identity,” Celestia countered. She looked down at it with sympathy. “He spoke of… crimes. Against his people. If faced with one who looked like our greatest enemies, in times of war and stress, would we have been slower to judge than he?”

Luna sighed and shook her head. “No. We would not.”

Celestia nodded. “There must be another way…”

“Princesses,” Twilight said quietly, “I think I know one.”

Celestia and Luna both looked at her, Luna with a slight frown and Celestia with a raised eyebrow.

“He entered my mind,” Twilight said quietly. “He was trying to interrogate me - find out what I knew. He thought I was a Commander in the Guard.”

“What happened?” Luna asked with a frown.

“He was looking for something,” Twilight said. “But during the link, I think… I think I saw parts of his history, his experiences.”

Celestia frowned, glancing at Luna. “Could they have left an imprint?”

Luna’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “Enough for a partial delve, though they may be little other than impressions and images.”

“It's a start,” Celestia said quietly. She looked to Twilight. “If this is truly in your mind, we must enter to seek it, and we must do so now before the images fade beyond recall.”

Twilight nodded. “What do I have to do?”

“I will send the two of you into a dream state, from which thou wilt be able to explore the memories this being hath left in thine mind,” Luna said quietly. “I will remain out here - send thee to the memories and try to maintain their cohesion. It will not be a pleasant experience - tis likely the images will be fragmented, incoherent. But it is all we have.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “I’m ready.”

Luna looked to Celestia, who nodded, then back to Twilight.

“Very well,” she said simply. “Then sleep.”

***

… and then Twilight was somewhere else.

She felt a wave of cold air strike her face, stinging and biting, and shivered involuntarily. She looked around, and saw Celestia standing next to her, her mentor having a worried expression on her face. They were stood on a cliff, staring out at a grey sea, a faint purple glow visible on the horizon, almost like a purple sun was rising. Before either of them could say anything, however, voices drifted over to them.

“… you're sure about this?” a familiar voice was asking.

“No,” another voice - recognisable as the human’s - responded. “But we don't have a choice.”

“Where are we?” Twilight asked, turning around to look for the source of the voice.

“A memory,” Celestia replied quietly. She frowned, taking a step forward -

***

- and then they were stood on a metal deck. Twilight lurched, off balance, trying to stay on her hooves even as the world around her was shifting. She looked around in surprise - the deck was that of a ship of some sort, it had to be. A great tower of sorts jutted from the deck, and humans - they had to be humans - were running across the deck, carrying more of the strange metal weapons that the first human had.

“Soldiers?” Twilight asked aloud.

Most of them wore green camouflage-pattern fatigues, and they were heading to one side of the deck. Twilight turned to look - only to see a great pink wall of what could only be magic looking over them, not more than a few hundred metres from where they were.

“What in the name of…?” Celestia muttered from beside her. “That -”

***

They were stood in a street, tall buildings made from steel and concrete towering either side of them. More of these human soldiers were dashing about, as a figure glowing with energy stood at their head. A chant could be heard, echoing through the streets.

“Albion! Albion! Albion!”

***

Rain fell on the roof of the shack, adding to the horrific din of the battle outside. Twilight looked around - a yellow Earth Pony in oversized clothes was laying on the floor of the shack, and a small wooden door was open, blowing in the wind. Twilight moved first, exiting the shack, and Celestia moved to follow her.

Two figures could be seen fighting a few metres away, though the blustering wind and rain meant that the two mares could not make the figures distinctly out. One of them had to be the human in his transformed state - the sword and the cloak were visible, as were the lines of the armour he wore. The other was a Unicorn mare, dressed in some sort of armour and wielding a sword of her own, possibly a rapier. The two were duelling, their blades streaks of silver against the darkened sky… and then the rapier was knocking out of the Unicorn’s magical grip just as the human’s sword decapitated her.

The sword flew, before landing right at Twilight’s feet. She blinked in shock, before looking up at the human. He was stood, apparently taking a moment to acknowledge his victory. Lightning flashed, and Twilight thought she saw a familiar white coat and purple mane on the body -

***

- and then Celestia and Twilight were stood on a pier, flanked by tall cliffs, as a host of humans and ponies fought. Pony soldiers in what looked like ivory Royal Guard armour were fighting less armoured ponies and humans. As they watched, a lighthouse started to collapse, slamming into a beach below the pier and crushing landing chariots and the ponies in them.

As Twilight and Celestia watched, one human charged past them, raising his weapon and firing at a squadron of incoming Pegasi in what looked like armoured Wonderbolt uniforms -

***

- just as a spell flew above Twilight’s head, forcing her to look behind her as the spell impacted into another giant concrete building. She looked up at the sky. As what could only have been some sort of war-Zeppelin, albeit one bigger than any she had ever heard of, floated slowly above her head. At its front was an immense golden statue of an angry rearing Celestia and wisps of thunderheads clung to the bottom of the gondola.

“This…” she said quietly. “This is insane.”

“Are these images familiar?” Celestia asked.

Twilight studied the Zeppelin as it flew overhead, her eyes catching sight of Pegasi darting hither and thither, most of them dressed in Wonderbolt uniforms or Royal Guard armour but more than a few dressed in some sort of colour coded shirts. A name drifted from her lips.

“Harmonious Order,” she said quietly. “The first super-Zeppelin.”

Celestia frowned, but before she could say anything -

***

- they were in a meeting hall, more of the human and pony soldiers surrounding them as the human - unmistakably the same one - marched onto a stage and lifted up three pony manes. Three very familiar pony manes. Twilight took a step toward the stage, her eyes narrowing…

***

“… I should have been here,” the human’s voice drifted past her ear. She was stood in a dark, rainy field. She glanced up at Celestia, who looked down at her with a frown of consternation.

“The memories are fragmentary,” she said quietly. “I don't think -”

“It wasn't your fault, David,” that familiar mare’s voice spoke again. Twilight frowned, and she and Celestia turned to see the hooded figure of the human kneeling in front of a funeral pyre. A mare - her features indistinct in the darkness - was stood next to him, and he reached out a hand to place it on her shoulder, whether to comfort her or seek comfort, Twilight couldn't tell.

“How many more are we going to lose?” the human asked softly.

***

NO MORE.

The words had been burnt into a pillar of white marble stood on a burning field, the wreckage of a Zeppelin - the same super-Zeppelin they had seen before - visible behind it. The human was stood in front of the pillar, an auburn-maned Pegasus mare on one side of him and a stallion with a red coat and a long, grey-streaked brown mane on his other side.

“No more,” the stallion said, his voice gravelly and grim. He turned -

***

- and once again Celestia and Twilight were stood in a city, as Zeppelins and Pegasi flew above them. The sound of something not unlike thunder raged in the distance. And Twilight found herself feeling the need, almost absurdly, to cover her ears. Celestia frowned as she looked up at the sky, and then seemed almost startled as humans charged past her, their weapons blazing with harsh cracking sounds as they moved to hold a barricade, hundreds of Guardsponies in that same ivory armour advancing under cover of spell barrage and shields.

Celestia snorted in anger as she spread her wings and took off. Twilight wondered what the Princess thought she might see from above. For herself, Twilight charged for the barricade, following the memory-soldiers as they reached the hastily-erected, shambolic construction. She looked around, and to her surprise saw a familiar face or two - here a mare from Canterlot, there a stallion she'd seen in Appleloosa. The humans were faceless - dressed in patchy armour and fatigues, their faces covered by masks with giant red goggles.

Spells impacted along the barricade, knocking soldiers back and blasting ponies and humans alike to pieces. Twilight flinched at the image as the memory-blood splattered over her.

***

- and then she was surrounded by flames. She could feel the unbearable heat as the fire washed over her. Deafening screams came from behind her and she turned just in time to catch the molten remains of a human soldier collapse and burn down to blackened bone covered in twisted rubber and metal.

The flames disappeared, allowing Twilight to stagger as the phantom pains of the fire overwhelmed her. She tottered over, crashing to the floor, her head swimming. As the flames dissipated she saw a huge golden statue carved in the shape of Princess Celestia march forward. It radiated the same unbearable heat as the flames and she saw licks of fire coming from its metallic maw. The same fires seemed to also make up its mane, tail and wings as well that fanned out as if trying to reach her.

Twilight tried to crawl away, her body still struggling to overcome the horrible sensations of the false memory pain.

Suddenly a familiar pair of golden shod hooves slammed into the ground in front of her. Twilight looked up to see the real Celestia’s face look down at her in shock and concern.

“Twilight!” the Princess said, “We need to get away from this -”

***

“… place!”

And now they were stood in a small room. The same yellow Earth Pony stallion they had seen earlier was stood next to the human, both of them with their backs to the two mares.

“You alright?” the pony asked quietly, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar accent.

“No,” the human said quietly. “But then, ‘all right’ is a luxury.”

“I guess,” the pony said quietly. He looked up at the human, revealing the side of a grim face. “So. D’you really want to do this?”

The human said nothing for a long moment, and the pony sighed, before turning and walking pat Celestia and Twilight to the back of the room. They got a glimpse of a coat and a sour expression, but nothing more. The human didn't move.

“So,” the pony said after a moment. “You realise you're on your own once you're there. No chance of reinforcement.”

“Understood,” the human said quietly.

“You also realise that if you don't succeed, we’re projecting our primary strategic positions being overrun in about two days,” the pony added.

“Also understood,” the human said quietly, his voice timeless. “If I haven't done it by then I'll be dead.”

“He says with such concern,” the pony grumbled. “You'd think we were talking about the sodding weather.”

“Angsting about things I can't change is stupid,” the human said bluntly. “I have to go. There's no other choice.”

“You want to say goodbye to everyone first?” the pony asked. “I know Lyra -”

“No,” the human cut him off. “No. I - I can't. This… this is hard enough.”

The pony nodded. “I understand.”

He grabbed a small piece of what looked like chalk, before trotting back to the human and starting to draw a circle around him. Twilight and Celestia exchanged glances.

“What's going on?” Twilight asked her mentor. She wasn't quite following what was going on.

Celestia narrowed her eyes as the yellow Earth Pony finished drawing his circle around the human and began mumbling under his breath.

“I believe,” she said quietly, “that we’re witnessing a magic spell of some sort.”

“I've never seen one like this,” Twilight said quietly. “Certainly not from an Earth Pony.”

Before Celestia could reply, a soft light began glowing from the chalk circle. Twilight stepped back, eyes widening. The yellow pony looked up to the human.

“Good luck, Dave,” he said.

“You too, John,” the human replied.

There was a flare of light…

***

… and Twilight opened her eyes to see the concerned face of Pinkie Pie stood over her.

“You ok?” she asked, holding out - of all things - a cup of coffee.

“Where'd you get that?” Twilight asked, having a drink of the coffee.

“I always store instant coffee around in case of coffee-emergencies,” Pinkie said gravely. “And this has all the makings of the mother of all coffee emergencies.”

Twilight chuckled. “Yeah. A little.”

“Fascinating,” she heard the familiar tones of Celestia’s voice say quietly. She and Pinkie both turned to see Celestia sat by the human, regarding the unconscious being thoughtfully. Fluttershy was also there, dabbing a small cloth on his head with a frown of concern.

“He’s fine,” she was saying to Celestia softly, “but I think there's more wrong with him than just whatever Princess Luna hit him with. It might be a good idea to have a Doctor look him over at Canterlot?”

Celestia nodded absently at that. “Thank you, Fluttershy.”

“Are you alright, Princess?” Twilight asked.

“His memories,” Celestia said softly, not looking at her. “They were… even in that fragmented state, there was such a rage attached to them… and a sorrow…”

“What happened?” Rarity asked, a frown on her face.

Twilight glanced over at her. The image of a fight between this human and a mare with a white coat and purple mane flashed through her head.

Ignore it, she thought to herself. Worry about it later.

“We saw the memories this human transferred into Twilight’s mind,” Celestia said quietly. “Memories of… memories of a conflict. With ponies. Just as he implied.”

“Another world where ponies are aggressors?” Luna said, raising an eyebrow. “Where you are an aggressor, sister? It scarcely seems possible.”

“And yet,” Celestia said quietly. “That may be what we are faced with right now.”

Luna scowled. “If that is so… what do we do?”

Celestia looked lost in thought for a moment, as though pondering the question. Twilight had never seen her mentor look so uncertain: not during the Sombra crisis, the wedding, the return of Discord…

“This is all so exciting!” a voice said quietly from behind Twilight. She turned to see Lyra scribbling away in her notes.

“How can you be taking notes at a time like this?!” Rarity hissed at the mint-green mare. “We’re in the middle of a crisis!”

“That is a human!” Lyra pointed out. “Crisis or not, this is the pinnacle of any cryptozoologist’s work! I have to record everything for later study!”

Rarity sighed heavily. “But -!”

“It's a good idea to keep notes,” Twilight interrupted. “We don't know what's going to happen next - keeping notes might help us make important decisions later.”

Lyra gestured triumphantly at Twilight. “See?!”

Applejack was stood further from the two, a pensive look on her face. Twilight approached her.

“You ok?” she asked. The Earth Pony didn't reply. “AJ?”

“This is crazy talk,” Applejack said quietly. “Some kinda creature from another world? It's like somethin’ from a story.”

“The same could have been said of the Elements of Harmony,” Twilight pointed out with a wry smile. “And yet here we are.”

Applejack nodded without smiling. “Ah guess yer right about that. We just need ta keep an open mind.” She scowled. “All the same, Ah don't like this at all.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Twilight said quietly. She turned to look at Celestia, who was nodding to herself.

“Alright,” the Diarch said. “Twilight, you and the other Element bearers - and Miss Heartstrings - will make preparations to come to Canterlot as soon as you can.”

Twilight, somewhat surprised by this, nodded. “Yes, Princess.”

Celestia turned to Luna. “You and I will take this human back to Canterlot. We will examine him and then, if and when he awakens, we will speak with him. Only then will we be able to determine a course of action.”

Luna nodded slowly. “As you say, sister.”

Celestia turned to Twilight, her expression grave.

“I don't know what is going to happen next,” the Princess said quietly. “I honestly can't even begin to imagine. What I do know is that the following days are likely to test all of us.”

Twilight drew herself up, almost standing at attention. Behind her, the others also stood tall, each of them looking as grave as Celestia - even Fluttershy looked grim-faced.

“We won't fail you,” Twilight said grimly.

“Yeah,” Rainbow added. “We’ll be ready for anything.”

The others added their own chorus of affirmatives to that, and Celestia smiled.

“I know whatever happens, I can count on all of you,” she said quietly. “We shall speak soon.”

She went over to Luna, and a moment later the two of them - and the human - disappeared in a flash of light.

“Right,” Twilight said. “We’d best get packing.”

***

You Are (Not) Alone

***

“…my job isn't to know why she's crazy, my job is to stop her. It's why I'm here: this is just the wrong Equestria.”
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Pinkie Pie.

"You’re a meanie."

"I think I’m a bit more than that."

***

Canterlot Palace, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Dr Tender Care, a female unicorn with electric blue fur and a darker blue mane and tail, sighed as she examined the creature - a ‘human’, Princess Celestia had said it was called - that the Princess had presented her for a patient. It was a strange case no doubt - it was a sort of creature that nopony in the entire assembled medical records of Canterlot had ever seen before, much less attempted to examine or heal - but Tender Care was proud of her skill as a physician, and she was determined not to let Princess Celestia down.

Having said that, the shivering, weak 'human' before her seemed to be very ill. From what little Tender Care could discern from examination - only vaguely helped by antiquated anatomy books the Princesses had dragged from the Canterlot Archives that must have been written thousands of years ago (for the White Horse’s sake, they still talked about humours and leeches) - the creature’s body was massively overtaxed. Celestia had told Tender Care what had happened. A fight of some sort - this thing had channeled magic powerful enough to stand against both the Diarchs of Equestria, albeit not overcome them.

“Hard to imagine,” she muttered to herself, as she trotted to the other side of the creature. All her tests were providing the same results, but she felt diligence was necessary. Her horn glowed as she repeated the diagnostic spell. After a few moments, she stepped back again, before sighing and shaking her head. She performed a basic healing spell, enough to heal his superficial damage, then stepped back and left the room.

“Well?” the Princess asked her.

“I've stabilised him,” Tender Care said softly. “But there's not all that much I can do.”

“What do you mean?” the Princess asked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Well, he's dying,” Tender Care said simply.

Celestia's eyes widened in surprise at the simple pronouncement.

“Dying?” she repeated. “But surely Luna’s spell didn't damage him that much.”

“It didn't,” Tender Care said quietly. “There's not way for me to confirm this without consulting with somepony who knows more about this poor thing’s anatomy, but…”

She trailed off.

“But?” Celestia prompted.

“I think whatever he was using to fight you wears his body out far faster than his normal lifespan would,” Tender Care said, her voice tinged with sadness: she never liked her patients dying on her. “If I had to guess, using the power he demonstrated wears his body out at an accelerated rate because it's somehow foreign to his body.”

“You mean that his body isn't adapted to use magic?” the Princess summarised.

“Exactly,” Tender Care said with a sad smile. “As of right now I'd say he has a few years left before he dies, but that might decrease to a year or even a few months - all depending on the use of those abilities. And of course all my estimates could be off - this is an entirely new creature, and nothing I say could be accurate.”

“Thank you Doctor,” Celestia said quietly, looking thoughtful. “I understand.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Your Highness?” Tender Care asked softly.

“You can wake him up for me,” Celestia said quietly.

Tender Care shook her head. “More magic might exacerbate the problem. I suspect he’ll wake up soon anyway.”

Celestia nodded. “Very well. I will summon you again if I require your help.”

Tender Care left quietly, leaving Celestia alone to ponder the mystery of this creature further.

A human. It had been an age or more since she had seen one, and she had been convinced that they had been obliterated in the Discordant ages. To see one now was like seeing a ghost from the past stroll up to her and challenge her to a duel.

“A surprisingly apt metaphor,” a familiar - and entirely unwelcome - voice said quietly.

Celestia started, then glanced behind her at the mismatched, surprisingly somber form of Discord. He had his arms folded as he stared at the unconscious human, his eyes narrowed.

“Discord,” Celestia greeted quietly. “Why are you here?”

Discord glanced at her before looking back at the human. “The answer to that seems fairly obvious.”

“Did you have something to do with this?” Celestia asked quietly.

Discord shook his head. “This was nothing to do with me, and frankly I'd not get involved with this kind of dimension hopping. It's no fun.”

“It certainly seems to have caused its share of chaos,” Celestia said dryly.

“Yeah - boring chaos,” Discord said grimly. “‘Unpleasant things are about to happen’ chaos. I do pink clouds and chocolate rain, not ‘the end of the world’.”

Celestia blinked. “Is… is it that serious?”

“Yes,” Discord said without hesitation. “It is. You're looking at events that could rival the First Discordant Age for all the not-fun chaos about to happen.”

Celestia turned back to look at the unconscious human, feeling herself wrestling with her conscience. Part of her almost wanted to send this being away - protect her ponies from the possibility of anything resembling the Discordant Age. She closed her eyes, fighting back a small swell of memories that threatened to return: hulking monsters that could crush a pony like nothing, hordes of gibbering demons…

Calm yourself, Gloriana, she told herself. We aren't facing that yet.

Even as she thought it, she had a horrible sense of foreboding. Maybe she wasn't facing it yet - but she had a feeling she would.

“I need to speak with him,” she decided. “Gather more information. That's the only way I can make a decision about… any of this.”

Discord sighed. “Whatever decision you make, make it snappy.”

Celestia frowned. “Why?”

Discord raised an eyebrow. “Because time isn't just passing here, Celestia. It's passing there too.”

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Celestia alone with her thoughts.

***

Ponyville Library, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Twilight sighed as she put another book down onto the ‘rejects’ pile: said pile was getting bigger and bigger by the moment.

She had searched every book she could find that might have had information about ‘humans’, but so far nothing useful had popped up. In fact, there weren't even that many references to them at all, and most references were archaic at best (the Jorogumo book, for example, referenced them as the mythological husbands/fathers/prey that Lyra had mentioned). There were also legends of the lost last ape-kindred from some ancient pre-sundered Primatian literature, and a few poems from ancient Horssia.

In short - nothing helpful. Despite every note she’d scribbled, she had found nothing useful at all.

“Spike?” she asked her assistant as he grabbed a cup of milk. “Could you try and find our copy of ‘4,000 More Legends of Sumareia’ please?”

“Twilight, you already read that one,” he pointed out with a slight smile.

Twilight blinked. “Oh.” She chuckled. “Oh. Well, then I guess I didn't find anything.”

“I guess not,” Spike said, his smile fading. “Twilight… what's all this about?”

Twilight’s face fell. She hadn’t told him what had happened yet. Truth be told, she didn't know how to. ‘Something big and important might be happening involving a mythical race that there's nothing in the history books about but I’m not certain yet’ wasn't enough of an explanation, in her mind, to justify potentially worrying Spike.

“It's something for the Princess,” she said, as honestly as she could. “I don't know how important it is yet.”

Spike frowned slightly. “If it's important, Twilight, do you need me to do anything else?”

She smiled. “Thank you Spike. If you could maybe make an effort to find anything we have on ancient cryptozoology, that’d be a start.”

“Cryptozoology?” Spike repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Uh… ok. I'll have a look, but I’m not sure what I’ll find.”

“Anything you can would be good,” Twilight said with a smile. “I think there were some older texts in the lower shelves.”

Spike nodded and headed off, leaving Twilight alone. Suddenly she found herself pondering what all this might mean for her little assistant - to all intents and purposes, her brother. What would happen if the worst did come to pass?

“Twilight?” a slightly timid voice called into the library, startling Twilight from her thoughts. The librarian smiled as she recognised the owner of the voice.

“Hey, Ditzy!” she called back. “Come in!”

A grey Pegasus mare with a blonde mane entered, her eyes facing in different directions and a saddlebag slung over her shoulder. She smiled as she entered.

“How’re you?” the friendly Pegasus asked.

“Oh, not so bad,” Twilight said. “A little flummoxed, all things considered, but not so bad. What brings you here?”

“Just wanted to return a book I borrowed,” Ditzy said quietly. She pulled a book from her saddlebag - ‘100 Uses for Cheese’. “It was really helpful, thanks.”

Twilight smiled. “Glad to be of help.”

Ditzy put the book down on Twilight’s desk, a slight frown gracing her features. “What's a ‘human’?”

Twilight blinked in surprise. “What?”

“A ‘human’,” Ditzy repeated. “This word in your notes - is it a new creature?”

Twilight cursed inwardly - this wasn't supposed to get this far out. She frowned slightly, wondering what to say to the innocent looking mare.

“A human is… a kind of magical creature, one Princess Celestia’s… making contact with for the first time,” she said quietly. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Ditzy said with a quick nod. “But why hasn't anypony heard about it?”

“The Princess is being careful, in case they're not all that friendly,” Twilight said carefully. “We… don't know much. Hence the research.”

“Have you tried asking Lyra?” Ditzy asked. “She's an expert on cryptozoology.”

Twilight blinked. “Uh, how d’you know that?”

“I went to her lecture,” Ditzy said cheerfully. “I think I might have missed most of it - I read a ‘2’ as a ‘7’ - but I know it was about strange creatures.”

“Uh, well,” Twilight said, surprised, “Lyra’s helping with the research, but it's slow going.”

Ditzy nodded thoughtfully, before a bright smile lit up her face. “I know somepony who might know something!”

Twilight smiled wryly. “Somehow, I don't think they would.”

“I’m sure he would,” Ditzy said with a grin. “I’ll go ask him right now!”

Twilight sighed as Ditzy bounded off - that hadn't been quite what she had been expecting, and she was certain that Ditzy would start asking random ponies… but she couldn't exactly stop her now, save by chasing her down. Twilight only hoped whoever she told had some grasp of how important it was not to go running off at the mouth.

***

Canterlot Palace, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

This is what it is like to be David Elliot, right now.

Your dreams are full of fire and pain. Memories of old friends, long since lost, permeate your mind. Your thoughts are laden with the responsibility of your place - as ‘Force Commander’ of the loosely termed ‘British Defence Force’. As leader of an army. As symbol to the people… a role you feel like you're never going to be comfortable with.

In your dreams, a grand figure in armour, wielding a longsword, is standing before you, as though beckoning.

And then you wake up, eyes snapping open. You do not sit up: your waking hours are too dangerous to let such obvious signs of waking show too quickly. You glance around a well-lit, beautifully decorated room that has clear signs of being built for ponies, and memory comes rushing back.

You remember being confused. Too much. Too strange. Too many questions. It isn’t right - any of it. Commander Sparkle, but not Commander Sparkle. Solamina - but not Solamina, or at least doing a damn good job of acting like she’s not Solamina.

And then…

Getting taken out by a cheap shot when you weren’t looking. You are an idiot, David Elliot.

You find yourself thankful that your friends weren’t here to see what an utter arse you made of yourself.

“Hello?” a female voice asks, cutting into your thoughts. The voice is… familiar. “Are you awake?”

You sit up now, turning your head to face her - the white mare with the rainbow mane, her eyes narrowed at you slightly in thoughtful appraisal. You take a slow breath, calming yourself, remembering the inconsistencies.

“Where am I?” you ask, your voice hoarse slightly (you wonder if Lyra would appreciate that pun).

“Canterlot,” she replies slowly. “I was wondering if you could talk to me. I have a few questions.”

You don't reply immediately, struck by a sudden urge to laugh. You are sat in the heart of your enemy’s land, and it is not. You are sat in front of your enemy, and she is not.

You are David Elliot, and you are very, very confused.

***

Celestia had begun the conversation as politely as she could. “Hello? Are you awake?”

He sat up slowly, tense and cautious. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Canterlot,” Celestia replied carefully. She had no way of knowing how he would react to that information. “I was wondering if you could talk to me. I have a few questions.”

He looked right at her for a few moments, as though trying to decide if she was serious. She couldn't tell (she’d never been good at human facial expressions when there had been brief diplomatic relations with humans in the old days, many thousands of years ago), but he looked… bemused.

“This is a joke, right?” he asked in a slightly odd tone. “Like… you're gonna try and stab me at some point, aren't you?”

“N… no,” Celestia said, blinking in shock. “Why would I?”

The human laughed at her. It was a short laugh, full of bitterness and some sort of gallows humour Celestia couldn't quite place.

“Lady, if you knew the answer to that question…” he said after a moment, his voice still full of that dead mirth.

“I know some of it,” Celestia said softly. “You have fought some kind of war. A war against my people.”

The human frowned. “How d’you know that?”

“I’ve seen glimpses of your memories,” Celestia said. “You left an imprint upon Twilight Sparkle’s mind - glimpses were all I could see.” She paused, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him. “It was… evocative.”

The human smiled, almost with real mirth. “You should try living it. That's more than ‘evocative’.”

“Then maybe you could fill in the gaps,” Celestia said quietly. “Tell me about your world.”

“You don't want to know,” he said blandly.

“Perhaps I do want to know,” Celestia said suddenly, taking a step forward. “I… you came to this place, my world, and you said that did so to kill me.”

The man’s lips pursed for a moment, before he nodded once. “That’s correct.”

“Why?” Celestia asked. “Who are you? Where do you come from?”

He looked thoughtful for a long moment, before sighing.

“You’re… really not her, are you?” he asked.

“No,” she said quietly. “I’m really not.”

A tired smile graced his features. “Alright, fine.”

He stood up slowly, before throwing his hand up to his forehead sharply, palm outward, in a salute.

“Major David Elliot, Force Commander, British Defence Force,” he said smartly. He dropped the hand. “And also, for the last three and a half years, the Avatar of Albion.”

Celestia nodded slowly. “The other form you had.”

Elliot smiled mirthlessly. “Yeah, the ‘other form’. That's a word.”

“And this ‘Solamina’?” Celestia asked, frowning. “She’s…”

“You,” Elliot said quietly. “Or rather, Celestia. I’m not so sure that that's you, anymore - or, that you're her.” He smiled again. “Kinda wish the Doctor was here to explain things - he’s always been better than I have at making these things… make sense.”

Celestia frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

“It seems to me,” she said quietly, “that you have come to this world from another.”

Elliot nodded slowly. “That was the idea. I must’ve got lost.”

“‘Lost’,” Celestia repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Elliot smiled sheepishly. “Well… yeah. I guess I must’ve. I was sent here by a kind of experimental portal spell, but it must have gone wrong somehow.”

Celestia frowned. “Why?”

“Why?” Elliot repeated.

“Why would you risk so much to come to Equestria?” Celestia clarified. “What could you possibly hope to gain?”

“I’d have thought that was obvious,” Elliot said. “I came to kill you - or rather, her.”

“But… that's suicide!” Celestia said, shocked at the idea.

“Yup,” Elliot said with a nod. “We're that desperate.”

Celestia blinked in shock at this. She had heard of such desperation, had felt it herself (especially during the darkest hours of the Discordant Age) but… to countenance a plan like this, to be sent alone into the heart of what you perceived to be your enemy’s territory…

“What happened?” She asked quietly.

He seemed to ponder the question for a moment, but not as though it were difficult - more because he seemed to be trying to decide whether he really should answer it. Finally, he sighed.

“The year for us is 2032,” he said quietly. “This war started in 2024, but the crisis began in 2022. Two years prior to that, in 2020, a mysterious island appeared… Portal Island, it ended up being called.”

“The place where the portal from Equestria to your world existed,” Celestia surmised.

“Correct,” Elliot said quietly. “Suffice it to say, stuff went well for a while then went to shit. A sort of magical energy field - we called it the Barrier - began expanding outward from Portal Island. It consumed the entire planet - the Pacific went first: Asia, Australia, Japan, then America went mad… more and more nations and landmasses fell, and all the while Equestria was silent. Embassies emptied. No messages could get through, and no messages returned. Finally there was only one nation left. In two years, almost the entire planet was consumed.”

Celestia balked, the scale of such destruction almost impossible for her mind to register.

“Your people…?” she asked tentatively.

“There were seven and a half billion, at the start,” he said quietly. “We don’t know the exact numbers either way - probably for the best - but conservative guesses indicate that of that number, two billion died, either to the Barrier or to the chaos that surrounded it as it expanded across the planet.”

“Two billion…” Celestia murmured. “And the rest?”

“That’s… complicated,” Elliot said. “Anyway… the land I’m from, Britain, was the last place to go. I was… I was actually on a ship, watching the Barrier approach. We were going to try and slow it down. Futile - nothing we had was any different to what anyone else had had over the last two years - but we weren’t going to die without trying.” Strangely, he smiled. “And then a miracle happened.”

“A miracle?” Celestia asked, raising an eyebrow. “What miracle?”

Elliot looked up at her, and there was something shining in his eyes - maybe the first glimmer of hope that Celestia had seen in them since she had started speaking with him.

“The Barrier was stopped by another one,” he said, still smiling. “A great blue wall of energy that shot up from nowhere and blocked the bloody thing in its tracks. We thought that was it… the end of our struggles. We thought… for a moment… that brighter days might finally be ahead of us…”

His smile faded slightly, and Celestia found herself feeling a sudden sense of foreboding.

“That wasn’t the case,” she stated more than asked.

“No,” he replied. “It wasn’t.” Taking a breath, he stood up, moving to the little window of his room. After a moment he looked back at her. “We had one hundred and fifty million people on a set of islands that could maybe hold half that without being overtaxed, but we were alive. We thought, after the Barrier stopped, that maybe you - maybe Celestia - would contact us. Express relief that humanity hadn’t been wiped out, promise help… explain something. But there was nothing… until the Exodus.”

At Celestia’s prompting expression, the man turned and looked out the window. “Hundreds of ponies… thousands even… were fleeing Equestria. They’d closed their land borders, but these ponies were finding a way. This group - about thirteen thousand all told in that first wave - came to us led by a stallion who called himself Doctor Hooves, and they came with a warning.”

He turned to look back at Celestia. “Celestia had gone mad. She had declared Equestria an Empire, called herself ‘Astra Solamina Maxima’... and was coming to wage war on the last of humanity.”

***

Doctor Hooves’ home, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

“Hey Doc!” the chipper voice of Ditzy Doo rang through the home of ‘Doctor Hooves’. A clang of something sounded from the depths of the home-come-laboratory.

“One moment!” he called out.

The stallion himself, a brown-maned and tan-coated stallion with his name swept backwards and a perpetual frown of combined thought and concern, was stood in his lounge, pondering a small device that seemed to consist of a gauge set into a box with a small hoof-grip and a little red light. The gauge was pushing into the red and the light was on.

“What's that, Doc?” Ditzy asked as she came into the lounge.

“A device for detecting dimensional disturbances!” the Doctor said with a little grin. “I built it myself. Haven't actually had to use it since that time six months ago when I had Starswirl the Bearded camped on my sofa. Awkward trying to keep that one from Twilight.”

“Huh,” Ditzy said, frowning at the red light. “Why’s it doing that?”

“Because there's been some sort of dimensional disturbance,” the Doctor replied, still engrossed in the little machine. “Couldn't tell you what, but it must have been pretty big.”

“Oh, that's cool,” Ditzy said with a smile.

“Anyway, enough blather,” the Doctor said with a smile, turning to look at her. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, yeah!” Ditzy said with a smile. “I saw Twilight looking something up today and I was wondering if you knew what it was?”

“Oh?” the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“‘Humans’,” Ditzy said with a puzzled expression. “I’ve never heard of…”

She trailed off at the Doctor’s dumbfounded expression. His mouth had dropped wide open, and his eyes were wide with shock.

“Great… wickering… stallions,” he said quietly.

***

Canterlot Palace, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

“I couldn't tell you much about the war that would make sense,” Elliot said blandly. “I'm not even sure it made sense to me. Just know that we fought pretty damn hard - there are millions of Equestrian dead… and we’ve lost over a hundred million ourselves.”

Celestia blinked in surprise at that. “Then… if there were only one hundred and fifty million to start with, there can only be -”

“Estimates are at about twenty,” Elliot said grimly. “But those are conservative. Could be as low as fifteen.” He took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. “As you can maybe guess, we’re desperate.”

“Indeed,” Celestia said quietly. “So desperate it seems, that you came to slay this ‘Solamina’ in what amounts to a suicide mission.”

“Leaving behind all my friends at the battle in the process,” Elliot said quietly. “By now, they're probably all dead.”

Celestia took a breath, taking a moment to digest everything she had heard thus far. Though it all sounded preposterous, she found herself believing this human.

“How did your Celestia… this… Astra Solamina… how did she fall so far?” she asked Elliot.

Elliot shrugged casually.

“No one knows,” he said, sounding somewhat unconcerned. “By all accounts from our pony refugees, the craziness only started when Equestria's portal opened.”

“Curious,” Celestia said, turning away slightly, her mind roiling with thought.

How stressful was the meeting with humanity? Would that be enough to…? She stopped that train of thought. No. No. I have to believe I am stronger than that. I know I am.

“In any case,” Elliot said, still sounding unconcerned. “There’s no way to know now, and it's not why I’m here. I just have to stop her.”

Celestia thought for a long moment about everything she had seen, the horror the man had experienced - more to the point, the horror he had experienced at the hooves of her and her subjects. This was... she knew it wasn't really her fault, that she had done nothing to cause the horrors he had seen and fought against... but all the same, the fact that it was her people, in a way, that were responsible for this... that was something she could barely stand to think about for too long.

“What…” she asked slowly, hesitantly. “What can I do to help you?”

“Send me back?” Elliot replied at once, as though this were an obvious answer.

“Back?” she repeated, shocked. “To this nightmare you've spoken of?!”

Elliot smiled wryly. “Nightmare or not, my place is there.”

The Sun Princess blinked in disbelief at the simple request, and then shook her head.

“Is there nothing more?” she asked, her tone almost desperate. "I wish to help however I can... and if you don't mind my saying so, it would seem you need it.”

“By doing what, giving me an army?” Elliot asked, smirking slightly. “You happen to have one?”

His laughter died at the serious expression on her face.

“Yes,” she said. “I do. And there are others - alliances I can call upon -”

“And risk lives on your world that you don't need to?” Elliot asked. “No - send me back, and I can -”

“I’m not willing to simply send you away and sweep this under the carpet like inconvenient dirt!” Celestia snapped suddenly. “You've brought me a tale of a war beyond anything I've seen for millennia, and now you're asking me to send you back with no help?!”

“Yes!” he snapped in return. “You… you don’t know what it’s like. I’ve heard stories about how peaceful your world used to be -”

“Then you know a lot of ponies who like to forget our history,” Celestia cut him off, a scathing expression on her face. “I have no doubt that your war is horrific. I have seen horrific.” Screaming, burning, and monsters unlike anything she had ever seen tearing through her ponies like they were soft cloth. “I do not pretend that this is a choice I can make lightly - but I will not stand by and do nothing.”

Elliot paused, not reacting to the outburst for a moment. Finally, he stood up again, an odd expression on his face.

“If…” he began slowly, “if somehow you can help… if you… if you can do something that might help us win…”

“I will battle this Tyrant Empress myself if that is what it requires,” Celestia promised grimly. She laid a hoof on Elliot’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “You will not need to fight this war alone, not any more. I promise you that.”

Elliot nodded slowly, then winced, before sitting down. “I… don’t think I know what to say to that.”

Celestia nodded slowly in response. “I know this will not be easy - but the right thing often isn’t.”

“How well I know,” he said with a rueful smile and another wince.

“You should rest,” Celestia said quietly. “I will no doubt need your help soon.”

“Yeah,” Elliot said quietly, nodding. “When you do, I’ll… probably be here.”

With that, he laid himself down and closed his eyes. With a determined expression, Celestia exited the room, her wings beginning to flex involuntarily. She found Discord waiting for her, his arms folded.

“Well?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Please go to Luna and tell her to meet me in the throne room,” Celestia said quietly. “We have work to do.”

With widening eyes, he disappeared, and Celestia took a breath to steady herself.

I am doing the right thing, she thought to herself. I can't let this atrocity stand without doing something. She snorted, her eyes narrowing in contempt. Let us see if this ‘Solamina’ is as resolved.

***

Interlude: Frontline

***

“You might fool John and even True Grit with that routine - heck, you might even fool yourself - but I know you better. Don't you dare shut me out.”
Lyra Heartstrings, The Avatar of Albion: Tales of the War.

***

London. January 14th, 2032.

Point Sigma.

A single amber eye glanced hither and thither, taking in the sights around it. Next to it, a small electric blue prosthetic shaped almost exactly like an eye whirred faintly as it followed the movement of its organic counterpart. The rubble-strewn street was deathly quiet, but the owner of those eyes knew from hard-earned experience that ‘quiet’ could change to ‘hell’ in about the same time it took to say ‘hell’.

Still, no sign of hostiles at present. Taking a breath, Lyra Heartstrings decided to chance it: she knew full well that wouldn’t last very long.

“Stern, take the troop and move to second position,” she said quietly. Behind her, a dark brown Earth Pony stallion named Harder Stern nodded, before motioning for the squad of ponies and humans behind him to move.

The little ragtag collection of soldiers jogged and trotted down the street toward a ruined barricade while Lyra watched. Once there, Stern tapped a small headset he was wearing.

“All good!” his voice came in tinnily. “The engineers can move in!”

Lyra nodded, before tapping her own headset. “Albion 2 to Lockett. Board is clear. Set her up.”

“Cheers,” a chirpy voice said. A moment later, a dozen or so troops - human and pony alike - jogged past Lyra’s position, meeting up with Stern. “Alright - make it snappy people!”

Lyra watched the engineering troops as they moved new pieces of barricade into place, using everything from pre-existing parts they'd brought to ruined cars around them. It was almost impressive, if it weren't so desperate.

“You've got this, right?” Lyra asked.

“We’ll holler if we need anything,” Harder Stern said. “We’ve got this flank covered.”

“Gotcha,” Lyra said.

“Hey boss,” Lockett asked. “We heard anything from Point Omega yet…?”

Without replying, Lyra turned and dashed off. There were more places to be.

And she didn't want to think about the answer to that question.

***

Point Delta.

At a barricade on the opposite side of St Paul’s, Lyra found herself standing with Dr Tender Care as she patched a soldier up. The electric blue mare looked weary. This barricade had seen some of the hardest fighting - a pair of REV6 mechs, both battered and patched up, stood on opposite sides of the barricade, bookending the defenders. The troops themselves were battered as well: a couple of troops in heavy armour and a dozen or so soldiers in battered regular gear were all that was left.

“How’s it going, Doc?” she asked.

Tender Care shook her head. “Lost twelve this last day, three of which were in the last half hour. Need more medical supplies.” She held up a hoof. “Don't bother telling me we don't have them. I know. Doesn't change the fact.”

Lyra sighed. “I’ll see what we can do, but…”

“‘Don't hold out hope’,” Tender Care said bitterly. “What else is new?”

“I don't like it any more than you do,” Lyra said gently, her face full of sympathy.

Tender Care’s expression softened. “I know. If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant.”

Lyra sighed, and left the bitter medic to her work. After checking over some of the troops - most of whom were, thankfully, in as good spirits as she could ask for - she went over to one of the REV6’s. A youngish man with auburn hair was tinkering with something. Incongruously enough, he was dressed in a battered knee length overcoat, burgundy corduroy trousers and stained off-white shirt: he looked as though he had been here for a while.

“You alright up there?” she asked.

“Yep,” the man replied. He glanced down at her. “It's Operative Heartstrings, isn't it?”

“Lieutenant, actually,” she replied idly, pronouncing it British-style: David always told her how strange her (apparently) American voice sounded saying it that way - she’d give anything for -

No. Not now. Later. We think about this later.

“Oh, my apologies, Lieutenant,” the man said. He closed the panel he was working on and dropped to the ground. “Dr Richard Bowman, Archive Field Ops.”

Lyra frowned. “Archive Field Ops? What’re you doing all the way out here?”

“Well, fixing your REV’s targeting scanners for a kickoff,” the man said with a smirk. “They were off by a good… well, lot.”

“Good to know you've fixed ‘em,” Lyra said with a slight smile. “I get the feeling we’ll need them sooner than we’d like.”

“I suspect you're right,” the man said quietly. “Other than that, I’m just here to chase shadows.”

“‘Chase shadows’?” Lyra repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forgive me - there are always rumours flying about,” the man said with a slight wry smile. “Things running around that might be useful - or harmful.”

Lyra sighed. Great - he’s an enigmatic one.

“Is there anything I need to know about?” she asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Nothing of note,” the man said with a shrug. “Few weird things that might be true or might be your usual ghost story type things. Rumours of the twins being around -”

“Weren't they a myth?” Lyra interrupted, frowning in confusion.

“No, they were real,” the man said with a slight smile of his own. “And quite pleasant, if you could get past their… one track mindedness.”

Lyra nodded slowly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“There's a first time for everything,” the man said with a snort. “Also needed to get a few samples of crystal weaponry if we could retrieve anything, but I suspect if we survive this there’ll be plenty of time to… loot.”

Lyra smirked. “Don’t knock looting, Doc. Chances are we’ll all have to do worse things before the end.” She paused, frowning. “Wait - what do you need crystal weaponry samples for?”

“Mainly to figure out how much they’ve advanced since Sunstorm,” the man said. “But there’s always a use for such things.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “I’ll bet. Anyway -”

“Raiders!” someone yelled, cutting her off.

Lyra’s eyes snapped to the sky at once, as her horn glowed, a spell readying. She scowled as a small group of Pegasi flew overhead, passing over the defences and dropping small round objects as they went. The objects exploded on contact with anything, the force of the blast causing concussive damage. Worse, the explosives were full of what could only be described as small shurikens made of crystal: when the devices exploded, they tore through flesh, cloth and even armour.

The explosives launched their lethal contents across the barricades: one soldier was sliced to pieces as a device slammed into the ground right next to him. Another explosion threw a few troopers off their feet. One of them rolled a little, before coming to a halt near Lyra’s hooves, a gash torn in his throat, one sightless eye visible threw shattered goggles.

Growling, Lyra’s eyes flashed as she sent a spell up, smashing into one of the enemy ponies. There was a flash, and a burning shape fell from the sky, smashing into the side of a building and then falling to the ground.

“Motherbuckers,” Lyra swore.

“Language,” the archivist said. Lyra threw him a look and he quailed. “Uh… anyway. I need to be heading off - other stuff to fix.”

“Right,” Lyra said quietly, looking around at the dead and injured soldiers. “You go do that.”

The man looked like he wanted to say something, but he shook his head slightly, thinking better of it. He gave a final, awkward smile, and then he headed off.

As the man toddled off, looking grateful to be getting away from the livid looking Lyra, she sighed. She could see Tender Care applying a tourniquet to a shorn limb.

“Dammit,” she swore. She tapped her headset. “This is Albion 2 to Red Leader. We’ve had raiders at Point Delta. Where's our bucking air support?”

“Stretched thin, ma’am,” came the disheartened sounding reply. “We lost three more flyers in the last raid - I’ve barely got two full squadrons worth of flyers under my command now.”

“Just…” Lyra began, sighing. “Just try to keep them off us, Errant. Please.”

“We’ll do our best, Lyra,” Errant Flight replied.

“I know,” she said heavily. “I guess you always do.”

There was a pause for a moment from the other end. “Has - has there been any word?”

Lyra felt her expression harden. “No. Nothing.”

There was another pause before Errant spoke again. “You're ok, right?”

“Fine, Errant,” Lyra said quietly, not wanting to have this discussion now. Or ever.

“Lyra…” Errant Flight began, and then he sighed. “I have to get back to it. Take care of yourself, y’hear me?”

Without responding, Lyra signed off. She looked around the battered battlefield, before leaning against a lamppost with a sigh.

This… all of this… she thought to herself, eyes closed. I wish I was back home. I wish this stuff had never happened. I just want to go back to writing about Jorogumo.

She didn't even have that comfort any more: reports from Yamato were… sporadic, and never had any good news. The Griffon Empire was beset, the Qilin were building a war machine but they were (for perhaps the first time in their history) outnumbered, and most of the other nations - Homos, Simos, the Mongeldians and Horssians, the surviving Mols - were staying neutral, trying to keep out of it.

Like you even can, Lyra thought bitterly at them. Still, she supposed she couldn't blame them: who’d voluntarily submit themselves to this shit?

Language, Lyra, she thought to herself. She shoved away from the lamppost and headed off - she still had work to do.

***

Point Beta.

Around the inner defences she found the stern, taciturn face of Joseph Rither. His grey hair and stubble-covered face were always a welcome sight. He wore an old black Armacham bodysuit, a helmet tucked under one arm, and he was directing troops to other parts of the defence line when Lyra got to him.

“Joe,” she said quietly. “How goes it?”

“Still running around,” he replied. “None of these bastards have managed to have the balls to unite my body and soul yet. Startin’ to think no one ever will.”

Lyra smiled wryly. Joe belonged to a cult that had popped up in 2024 - the Dead Men. Their belief, so Lyra understood it, was that their their souls had departed this mortal coil a long time ago, and that only their bodies were ‘alive’, as a sort of cosmological error. They believed in putting their bodies to good use while they still could, something Lyra could respect at least.

“I'm not complaining,” she said half-jovially. “Still - do you need anything from me?”

Joe pondered the question for a moment, a slight frown on his face.

“Could do with you assigning one of our reserve REVs up here,” he said quietly after a moment. “We’ll need the extra hitting power when they attack.”

Lyra nodded. “I’ll get Danny to power one up.”

“Good,” Joe said. He paused. “We’ve had no word from Elliot?”

Lyra shook her head. “Anything from Eric’s team?”

“No, not since they headed off on patrol,” Joe said quietly. He sighed. “Good men. They'll be missed.”

“They're not confirmed dead yet,” Lyra pointed out with a frown.

“How many are, these days?” Joe asked, and Lyra didn't answer. They both knew that confirmed deaths were almost as much of a luxury as living.

Without another word, Joe turned away from her and headed off to give orders. Lyra sighed and headed off as well.

***

Elsewhere in the battered city, a yellow Earth Pony stallion was galloping down an alleyway, a scowl on his face. He quickly came to a stop, dashing behind a giant rubbish bin, as a patrol of Ivory Guard appeared at the end of the alley.

“Did you see that deviant?!” one of them yelled.

“No,” another said, though he didn’t exactly sound convincing.

“Seriously, did you see what he did?” the first voice yelled. “How did he -?!”

“Don’t think about it,” the second voice ordered sternly. “Take two and check this alleyway - the rest of you with me! We need to link up with Cohort Five at the gathering point.”

Shit, the yellow pony thought. Well, my day just keeps getting better.

He heard most of the guards trot off, their heavy armour clanking slightly. He heard the three trotting down the alley. He tried to still his breathing as much as possible.

“So,” one of the ponies said. “You hear about that new portable Arc-Gun they're supposed to be bringing out?”

“No, what about it?” one of his colleagues said.

“I keep hearing it'll have all sorts of different ammo types,” the first Guard said eagerly. “Like shard ammo, hellfire ammo -”

Just keep walking you shits, the yellow stallion thought as the trotting got closer.

“Don't believe everything you hear,” a third Guard voice, that of an older-sounding pony, said grimly. “I’ve been Guard since the old pre-Luna days: spears and magic’ve always done us right, these fancy new things aside. I remember the days before arccannons. You lot don’t know you’re born.”

“Come on,” the second pony said, now sounding uncomfortably close. “You telling me ‘magic and spears’ would beat these humans? Have you seen some of the bucking crazy stuff they've thrown our way?!”

“I once saw a machine three times the size of a pony!” the first Guard said in a hushed tone. “Tore through half my team…”

They passed the bin, not bothering to look behind them as they passed. The yellow stallion held his breath.

“That’s nothing,” the second Guard said. “I was at the steel wall - that was like walking into Tartarus.”

“Nothing in this fight’s been more dangerous than the stuff I saw in the Stratosphere war,” the older Guard (whom the yellow stallion couldn't help but think of as ‘Gramps’) said irritably. “You ever fought in a Rok? That’s tough fighting. Griffons are malicious bastards when they wanna be. These humans haven't -”

“Oh, come on!” the young Guard (‘Ensign Eager’, the yellow stallion mentally named him) said with a scowl. “Griffons don't have half the stuf these humans have brought to the table!”

“Yeah,” the second Guard (‘Bob’) said with a scoff. “I’d like to see Griffons with giant metal armour suits.”

“I wouldn't,” Gramps said with a derisive snort. “But you whippersnappers have the False Alicorns, the Super-Zeps, that thing they're building over the Foal Mountain…”

“What is that anyway?” Ensign Eager asked.

“Who cares,” Bob said blandly. “Won't do any good for us, will it?”

They were almost at the end of the alley. Any minute now, they'd disappear and he'd be able to move…

And then they turned a corner and were gone.

“B-fuck me,” the yellow stallion breathed. “I hate this shit.”

He shook his head, fighting back the urge to smoke a cigarette, and stepped away from the bin, before looking around. There were no other Guards.

“Ok,” he said to himself. “Got to get back.”

Without another word, Hell Blazer trotted away, trying to remain stealthy. Hopefully he'd be able to get back and tell everyone what was happening.

Hopefully.

***

St. Paul’s Cathedral. Command Post Alpha.

When Lyra finally found herself back in the Church - their makeshift field command - a few minutes later, she found herself wondering just what a sorry bunch she’d ended up commanding. There were a few Iron Clads, most of them Eric’s lot: their power-armoured forms were comforting, but even they were getting run down, their armour patched and battered, the metal dented and torn. The rest of the troops were little better off - the Dead Men wore all black uniforms, long trenchcoats and body armour where available. The Long Watchmen - what few you'd find further inland, anyway - wore their red uniform jackets with pride. The patchwork Knights of Albion, dressed in a raggedy combination of modern battle-dress and plate armour pieces, were stood listening to one of their Iron Clad number in Paladin armour listing off orders.

It's been a long war, Lyra thought to herself, and it's only gonna get longer.

After a few minutes, she found herself sat amongst a few of her old friends and colleagues. Vinyl Scratch, the blue-maned DJ, was there, her right eye milky-white and empty and her left hard and cold despite her jovial expression. With her was a bearded man with scruffy black hair and hard eyes, one side of which was shaven, his black Dead Man uniform battered and scuffed from constant battle.

“So,” Viktor Marius Kraber said, taking a puff of someone’s scum tobacco, “judging from your expression, the short story is ‘we’re fokked.’”

“Basically,” Lyra admitted with a grin.

“What’s the long one?” Vinyl asked, confused.

“No, he pretty much got it in one,” Lyra said grimly. She frowned at Vinyl. “Why are you even here, anyway?”

The DJ shrugged. “I was doing a morale tour. Not my fault you guys don't tell anypony when the Boners and the Fucking Asshats decide to show up.”

Lyra, despite herself, gave a grim smile. “And what about him?”

“I’m a popular character,” Kraber said, matter-of-factly.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Don’t go pulling that Pinkie P-”

“On the radio,” Kraber explained, with a knowing emphasis.

Lyra snorted. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“Look, back in med school, I wanted to go into radio and make a medical horror radio drama,” Kraber explained. “This worked too.”

“To be fair,” a new voice cut in, as another heavily-armoured figure entered the room, “it's not as bad as Hell Blazer’s ‘helpful things to do when you suddenly find yourself with hooves’ broadcast.”

“Don’t fokkin’ remind me,” Kraber groaned.

The armoured figure removed his helmet, revealing the young, smiling face of Eric Smith, his dark skin covered in soot. Lyra noticed with a slight twinge of concern that there were only a small group of his colleagues with him - he'd gone out with twenty men and three other Clads, but there were only five troopers with him and no other Clads.

“Eric!” Lyra said with relief. “Thank the white horse, I thought you were dead!”

“Reports of my death,” he said with a wry twist of his lips, “were somewhat exaggerated. A little. Ish.”

“What happened?” Lyra asked.

Eric’s smile faded. “We had FA trouble at the West End.”

“So much for that production of ‘Wicked’ I wanted to go see,” Vinyl muttered grimly. “You won, though.”

Eric’s smile faded. “If by ‘won’ you mean ‘managed to kill the single FA that popped up, no thanks to half my group getting vaporised’. Think the only reason there weren't more is that something was distracting them - I could hear the fighting further in the city.”

Lyra frowned. “What?”

“Wish I knew,” Eric said with a sigh. “I want to buy it a drink. One thing’s certain though - those things are getting tougher.”

“Or smarter,” Lyra concurred. “And we’re just getting lower and lower in supplies. I hear one of the EPAs at Point Gamma is running on no ammunition.”

Vinyl blanched. “Please tell me you mean ‘low ammunition’.”

“I know what I said,” Lyra said with a wry expression.

Vinyl whistled. “Well… fuck. I take it our supplies are -”

“Really, really low,” Lyra said with a nod. “That’s about the long and the short of it.”

Kraber ran a hand through his beard. “Hmmm. I’ll repeat my earlier assessment - we’re fokked.”

“Well, it's not all bad,” Lyra said with a raised eyebrow. “I hear it's gotten some modifications. Something about a mad Afrikaner painting it red and attaching what Lockett described as ‘more spikes than the average Punk Rock concert’. Then… resorting to boxing moves when it ran out… and bodyslamming people. And suplexing a crystal golem. You wouldn't know anything about that, Mr Kraber?”

The Afrikaner grinned. “I’m not apologizing.”

Lyra sighed. “Don't. But it doesn't change the facts. London is beset, reinforcements don't exist, and the enemy are pressing us.” She rubbed her forehead. “Eric - tell me you heard from John and David.”

Eric shook his head. “Their position would have been overrun by now.”

Lyra looked at him, her eyes full of something no one (or pony) could describe.

“Well then,” she said quietly. “We’ll hope they had an ace up their sleeves. They're too stubborn to go quietly. In the meantime, we keep at it.”

Eric nodded. “We’ll hold, Lieutenant. I promise you that much.”

“Until what?” Kraber asked.

“As long as we have to,” Vinyl said, cutting Eric off. “As. Long. As. We. Have. To.”

Kraber smiled. “So, no reinforcements, low ammo, no heavy hitters.” He cracked the knuckles of his trembling, uncertain hands. “Doesn’t seem fair for them.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eric said with a wry grin. “They do say, ‘all’s fair in love and war’, after all.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a little bit of a commotion at the entrance to the cathedral. A few soldiers rushed in, looking harried.

“Lieutenant!” one of them said. “It’s Hell Blazer!”

Lyra was up at once, her eyes wide. “John? What about him?”

“He just got back!” the soldier reported.

Just as he said this, a yellow Earth Pony burst into the cathedral, looking harried. He wore a shirt, tie and trenchcoat, with the number ‘666’ emblazoned on his flank. He trotted up to Lyra, looking at her with a grim expression.

“Lyra,” Hell Blazer said. “We need to talk.”

“Where’s David?” Lyra asked at once, frowning.

“That… is what we need to talk about, Lyra,” the yellow Earth Pony said grimly. “He’s gone.”

Lyra felt the blood leave her face at that pronouncement. “Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“I mean, he’s gone,” Hell Blazer said, giving her a knowing expression. “I’ve sent him: you remember the plan we discussed?”

“That’s crazy! Even if you get there -!”

“We’ll table it for now. But we’re desperate - it might be that we haven’t got a choice.”

“You didn’t,” Lyra whispered, her eyes widening in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

Hell Blazer looked mournful. “I’m sorry, Lyra. He insisted.”

“Sorry,” Eric said from behind her, and she turned to see the armoured man looking confused. “What did he insist on? Where is he?”

Lyra and Hell Blazer exchanged glances, both looking unhappy.

“Equestria,” the Lieutenant said quietly after a moment. “Hell Blazer’s sent him to Equestria.”

Vinyl jumped up, her eyes widening in shock. Next to her, Kraber spat out the cigarette.

“Fok!” he swore.

“That’s… what the fuck, Hell Blazer?!” Vinyl exclaimed in shock. “Why the hell would you -?!”

“So he can kill the bitch!” Hell Blazer snapped angrily. “We’re gonna be b-b-fucking overrun in a matter of days, if that! But if he can kill her -”

“And if he can’t?!” Eric asked, looking somewhere between worried and angry.

“It was his choice,” Hell Blazer said quietly. “His orders.”

Eric looked even more surprised at that, but he quieted down, merely looking concerned. Vinyl sat back down, her face suddenly filled with something Lyra couldn’t describe, and Kraber put his head in his hands.

Lyra, for her part, felt… hurt. David hadn’t even called in to tell her what he was going to do. He hadn’t even…

… no. No, she wasn’t going to go there.

By the white horse, she swore to herself. You’d better get your arse back here alive, David Elliot, or I’ll bucking kill you.

***

A Call To Arms

***

"War, sister. I can scarcely believe it."
Princess Luna, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Fluttershy.

“You have to kill me - don't you understand? If you don't kill me, I’ll kill. I… I don't… I can’t. Please. Stop me.”

“If you insist.”

***

Throne room, Canterlot Palace, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Celestia approached her throne slowly, thinking about everything she had heard. Her decisiveness disappeared for a moment as memories came flooding back - the blood and fire of conflicts she had seen over her eleven thousand years.

War is not easy, she thought. But if it was easy, it wouldn't be real.

Her decision made, she stepped forward. Her horn glowed, and the cushion of the great seat slid away, as a long golden glaive rose from beneath the throne. Though it had not been drawn for a thousand years, the weapon was untouched by time, gleaming and resplendent. Carvings of fiery maned ponies crossed the blades and sculpted flames licked the tip of the glaive's spear. This was her blade - the Astra di Irae, the star of war. She had reformed it herself - it had begun life as the Regalia di Irae, a sword known as the weapon of kings, but she had reworked the weapon into a glaive, matching her own preferred style. With a clang, the butt of the handle smashed into the floor before her, held upright in her telekinetic grip. She inspected it, nodding slightly at the condition of the weapon.

“So you've made your decision, then,” the familiar voice of Discord said from behind her.

“I have,” Celestia replied without turning.

“I'd comment about the fact that you sit with a sharp phallic object under your plot,” Discord said scathingly, “but I'm more inclined to comment about how insane the idea of you entering this conflict is. It's a bad idea! It's the bad idea, definite article, capital letters, italicised font!”

Celestia turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised at his hyperbole. As if to illustrate his point, he had snapped a claw and a heavy, leather-backed book appeared in his paw, where he turned it to a page showing the words "BAD IDEA" next to a picture of the two of them stood in this room, and showed it to her.

"I would rather be known as the Princess who took a stand when faced with evil than the Princess who cowered when others suffered," Celestia replied simply, ignoring his antics. “The days are gone when I would let others suffer because a war was not my own.”

“You have the power to ignore i-” Discord started.

“No,” Celestia said. “I may have the power… but I do not have the right. You forget, Discord - I have fought Tyrants before.”

Discord sighed. “This is a little different.”

Celestia snorted. “It is no different. Divine Right, Sombra, this Solamina - Tyrants cannot be satisfied until all the world kneels prone at their hooves.” She tapped the glaive against the floor. “The pragmatic choice is to fight. If this Solamina broke one world, whatever her reasons, then she will seek to break more. Possibly even ours, if she can. And then, if and when she does so… she will offer a compromise that is not one at all.”

“Of the ‘Give us everything and we don’t kill you’ kind?” Discord asked.

Celestia nodded. “Exactly.”

“Ah. This is a pre-emptive strike,” Discord realized.

“Partially, perhaps,” Celestia admitted. She hefted the glaive experimentally. “But the real reason? These humans… they have suffered so far, beyond belief, beyond anything I have seen. I have the power to end that. And I can - and will - use it.”

“You mean change it,” Discord said.

“I know what I say,” Celestia said.

Discord sighed, snapping the book from existence - he knew a lost cause when he fought one, especially with her.

“I take it you summoned Luna,” Celestia said after a moment.

“Yeah, Lulu should be on her way,” the Draconequus said quietly. He sighed. “And now I’d better go - I expect you'll want me to go find a way to send your troops there.”

“I suspected you would have that ability,” Celestia said with a slight smile. “You did claim to have encountered these beings before.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Discord retorted. He raised a claw. “I’ll help you. But this is a bad idea. Pre-emptive or not, you're in way over your head.”

“Your opinion,” Celestia said, “is noted.”

He disappeared in a flash, leaving Celestia alone.

***

Guestroom, Canterlot Palace.

The human lay on the bed, his eyes closed. He didn't seem to have registered the presence of Discord, who was observing him with a grim expression, but Discord knew that he knew the Draconequus was there.

“Did you come just to stare at me?” the human asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” Discord admitted. “You're the one who’s come to wreck the status quo around here, after all. Time was, that was my job.”

The human sat up, looking at Discord with a surprised expression.

“Well,” he said. “You're… new.”

“Indeed?” Discord said with a raised eyebrow. “I would have thought you'd have heard of me. I am rather distinctive.”

“Who are you?” the human asked.

Discord sniffed, feeling moderately offended. “I’ll have you know, I’m very famous on Equus.”

“Yeah, well, I’m from Earth,” the human said with a wry smile.

The Draconequus raised an eyebrow, and then made a pose. “Discord - sower of chaos, doer of deeds, maker of chocolate rain.”

“Oh… I had heard of you,” the human said, nodding in comprehension. “Gotta say, though,” he added, waving a hand in Discord’s direction, "seeing is an entirely different matter.”

“On that, you and I can agree,” Discord said, before walking up to Elliot and staring him in the face. “Ooh, that's a nasty case of magic burnout you're developing there…”

“Yeah,” the human said, frowning at the Draconequus slightly. “I know.”

“And do you know how long you've got left?” Discord asked, grinning a slightly nasty grin. The human, to his credit, didn't seem perturbed, save a narrowing of the eyes.

“Enough time,” he said coolly. “I would hope.”

“Ah, but time enough to do what?” Discord asked, still smiling. “That, I guess, is the question.”

“To do what I have to,” the human replied simply. “What’s it to you?”

Discord’s smile remained in place. “I’ve a vested interest in this world. Let’s just say, I’ve invested a lot of time and effort into it, and would hate for it to be wasted because of one human popping up.”

The human narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask Celestia to offer me her help. Actually, I wanted her to send me back home, end of.”

“Is that so?” Discord asked, his smile fading slightly. “Well, she always was too reckless for her own good when you gave her a cause - reminds me of more than a few folks I’ve known over the eons.”

The human folded his arms. “Did you come in here just to irritate me?”

“No,” Discord replied at once. “I came in here to get information.”

Unimpressed, the human nodded. “And did you get what you wanted?”

“We shall see,” Discord said, smiling slightly. “We shall see.”

And in a flash, he was gone, leaving the human alone. Without another word, the displaced man went back to lying down.

***

Throne room, Canterlot Palace.

When she walked into the throne room to see her sister armed with her ancient glaive, a look of cold determination upon her face, Princess Luna was rightfully concerned.

It had been a long time since Luna had seen that particular kind of determination on her sister's face. There had been many occasions in their past where such an expression had appeared: it had been the expression on Celestia's face when the mad King Divine Right had declared his intention to defeat her and conquer Equestria for his own. It had been her expression during the First Discordant Age, when Discord had unleashed a horde of monstrous abominations upon Equestria.

It had been her expression when Luna, maddened and tainted by the forces of the Heart of the World, had faced her on the field of battle at the head of an army.

To see that expression now… did not bode well. It was an expression for conflict, an expression for times when they would be tested. It was not an expression Luna enjoyed seeing.

"Sister," she said softly. "You summoned us?"

"I did," Celestia replied, smiling slightly, though her eyes still blazed with that determination. "I thought it best you should hear what I had to say."

Luna nodded slowly. “Alright - I’m listening.”

Celestia sighed. “Where to begin…?” She looked at the floor, her eyes closed. “I spoke with him.”

“With the human?” Luna asked, frowning slightly. “What did he tell you?”

Celestia didn’t answer for a long moment, and Luna found herself wondering just how bad whatever she was about to hear was - Celestia and Luna had both seen enough horrors that Luna could have sworn they could no longer be surprised.

“The name Astra Solamina Maxima,” Celestia said eventually. “Do you remember what you said? That only one mare could ever have the right to hold that name?”

“Yes?” Luna said, frowning.

Celestia looked her younger sister right in the eyes. “You were right.”

***

Doctor Hooves’ home, May 6th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

“And you’re sure it said ‘humans’?!” the Doctor said, eyes wide as he listened to Ditzy speak.

“Yes,” Ditzy said with a nod. “H-U-M-A-N-S.”

The brown-maned stallion blinked, turned in a circle, blinked again, ran a hoof through his mane and then tapped his chin.

“Humans,” he thought to himself. “Well. That… is… a…”

“Do you know what they are?” Ditzy asked, tilting her head.

“Depends on whether this human is the source of the dimensional disturbance!” the Doctor said, turning back to his device. “Do you have any idea how bad that could potentially turn out to be? No, silly question, of course not.” He grabbed the device. “Dimensional traveller? Dimensional invader? Maybe a vanguard? Or maybe a refugee? No, no, this is all too speculative. I have to speak to the human. And what if there isn’t one?”

“Doc.” Ditzy said slowly, “maybe you should slow down?”

He looked at her. “Slow down?”

“Yeah - maybe it’s not some big emergency,” Ditzy said with a smile. “It could be nothing.”

The Doctor blinked at her, and then slowly nodded. “Maybe this isn’t such a big deal.”

***

Throne room, Canterlot Palace.

A war, fought on another world by humans and free ponies, united in common cause against a mare who had once been Princess Celestia. Luna could not believe what she was hearing - but she knew it was true. Her sister had never lied to her, not like this, not about this kind of horror. The Lunar Diarch rolled the information around her head.

“While it is tragic… it is not our war, sister,” she said slowly, trying to be delicate. “You have heard the human’s tale, of the tribulations and monstrosities. Would it be right to subject our little ponies to such a conflict, knowing that it was one we could avoid?"

"We thought so once before," Celestia replied. "Mol Cassar, remember?"

Luna scowled. The reminder was an especially sore point with her. "We did the right thing then. That Sombra used our inaction as an excuse to rile his Empire into war against us…"

"Luna," Celestia said softly, cutting her off. "Would you really choose to stay out of this fight, knowing what we could do - knowing that we could do something?"

Luna sighed, looking at the ground for a moment in thought before looking up at her sister.

"No," she said softly. "I would not. If this is the path that you shall walk then I shall walk beside you."

"We are agreed then," Celestia said with a firm nod and a smile. "It's time."

“Indeed,” Luna replied. “War looms over our realm once more.”

“Not just ours Luna.” Celestia walked up to an open window that revealed the sky over Canterlot, leaving Luna waiting for her next move. “This war looms over our whole world. This tyrant is not satisfied with her own Equestria. She invaded a world and has driven it close to annihilation. What is to say that she cannot or will not attack our own.” Celestia turned back to Luna. “This isn’t just our fight, just as it is no longer merely the humans’. The Concordat must gather.”

“Will they stand with us?” Luna asked.

Celestia smiled wryly. “Whether they will or not is irrelevant - we will call them, and we will see if the ancient alliances are still worth anything.”

Luna nodded slowly, her expression settling into resignation. She walked out to the window, looking out upon the peaceful Canterlot day. To a certain extent, there was a hesitance in her heart. It had been so long since a true war…

"Are you sure about this course?" she asked Celestia. "Are we ready for this?"

"No," Celestia admitted. "But we were not ready before - not for Divine Right, not for Discord, not for Sombra. We have fought many wars, sister - I have faith in us. Ready or not, together we are unbeatable."

"I hope you're right," Luna said quietly.

With that, her horn glowed blue for a moment, and suddenly a large bolt of light shot into the sky, before detonating above Canterlot with a loud blare, not unlike a war-horn. It was an ancient signal, one not seen in the Kingdom of Equestria in many hundreds of years. Luna closed her eyes, and began praying to whatever power ruled over their lives that this was the right path.

***

The Crystal Empire.

Princess Cadence was deeply engrossed in the business of state when the blare reached her ears. She looked up sharply when she heard that noise, her ears twitching. She blinked, shock making her entire body suddenly feel weak.

"My lady?" Grey Stone, her adjutant, said, frowning. "What was that noise?"

Cadence raced to the window, looking out in the direction of Canterlot. Though it was many miles away, if she was right, she would be able to see…

There it was. A great explosion of blue energy in the sky, visible even from the Imperial Palace. She felt sick to her stomach at what it would mean - the spell was ancient, but all members of the royal family knew what it was and what it signified.

"My lady?" Grey Stone asked again, the stallion approaching her tentatively. "What's wrong?"

"War," Cadence replied. "We're going to war."

Predictably, Shining Armour burst in a moment later, his eyes wide with shock. Though he was officially the Prince Consort of the Crystal Empire, he still held the position of Captain of the Royal Guard, and he knew what had just happened.

“That…” he said, eyes wide. “That's…”

“I know,” Cadence said quietly. “Canterlot calls for aid.”

Shining Armour straightened up, his face taking on a grim expression.

“And the Empire will answer,” he said grimly.

***

The Palace of Unity, Daiyamas, Yamato.

Tengu sat atop his throne in total silence, the storm of his mind currently at calm as he meditated. He was separate from the world, his awareness now free of his physical awareness and brushing the things that lay beyond the world. With his own powers now attached to his spiritual self, he was able to feel the winds of his land and ride them.

As always he was watching his land, all without moving a single inch. He could see everything that transpired in his tumultuous realm, a land as beautiful and as volatile as the skies that lay over them.

His body still lay, sitting upright and unmoving, back in his palace atop the Daiyamas, the Imperial Mountain. As he meditated, his demesne and his body were attended by a legion of dedicated Tsukumogami who had been in his service for countless centuries, every one of them a prized possession of his. High above the land and populated only by the spirits of the myriad items that lay within its walls, the Imperial Palace was a realm apart from the daimyos of the ayakashi and their petty politics and wars. What better stronghold could there be for the Great Tengu, Supreme Shogun and Emperor of Yamato.

A ripple through the air suddenly disturbed his thoughts. His mind returned to the matters of the physical world and he stirred from his meditation.

His attendants stared at him, startled at their lord’s abrupt awakening. Most continued in their work but there was now an air of concern as their lord’s beaked face twisted into one of discontented contemplation. Something was not right.

A loud blare then echoed through the sky, washing over the Daiyamas. The Tsukumogami all started at the sudden noise, pausing in their work.

Tengu stood up from his throne and began to walk to one of the windows in his great hall. A doorway led out to an open-air gallery that looked over the eastern face of the mountain. The final echoes of the thunderous horn-call were beginning to echo and the tail end of the wave of force that had heralded it was, disappearing over the top of his palace, moving on to the west.

Tengu shut his eyes and sighed. He knew what the call meant, he knew what was coming. Celestia had called for him and it was his obligation, as an ally and a friend, to answer her. A crisis was coming, a terrible calamity that was surely to toss his unstable realm back into uncertainty.

“Once again my days of peace have come to an end,” he muttered to himself, an edge of bitterness on his voice.

Still, no sense dwelling. All this was transient - as peace came to an end, so too did times of crisis. First, he needed to prepare. It was time to summon those at his command.

***

The Silken Hoof, Canterlot.

The only difference, Prince Blueblood noted wryly, between a common pub and one frequented by the high aristocracy was the sheer expense of the nasty-tasting alcohol they served. As he took another swig of wine, ignoring his building headache, he tried to cheer himself up by reminding himself that at least it was better than socialising. He really hadn't been in the mood for another party and the last fundraiser he had attended had been a nightmare. Tonight he was simply spending time with himself, for himself.

"Milord?" the barmare asked, looking at him quizzically. "Are you alright?"

Blueblood shrugged. Normally he wouldn't deign to answer, but he was feeling less uptight than usual.

"Fine," he answered. "Another merlot, please."

As the mare went off, Blueblood wondered vaguely what his father, the late lamented General Steelblood, would have made of him being in a high class bar, wasting away his life.

Probably wax lyrical about how disappointing I am, for the ninetieth time, Blueblood thought tiredly. Drinking brought up these kinds of memories - the kind that he would rather keep buried - but sometimes the urge to drown his boredom was great enough to overshadow his desire to forget just who he was and who his father had been. Hero of all those border wars and expeditions. Smashed a Griffon with a sledgehammer. Couldn't do buck-all as a father, but hey ho. He had medals, so that's fine.

"Four tries," he said out loud, perhaps a tad louder than he would have done had he been sober. “Officer commission after four tries. You'd think perseverance would get some recognition, but no…”

"Milord?" the barmare asked, raising an eyebrow. He smirked, and shook his head.

"Just reminiscing," he said quietly, before returning back to his own melancholy. "That's all."

Much as he hated thinking about it, it was an unfortunate fact that when he was alone and drunk his thoughts often turned to his late father. The late lamented Steelblood. The hero, Steelblood. The one everypony took great pleasure in reminding Blueblood that he was nothing like. The one, everypony took great pleasure in reminding Blueblood, who was the better Stallion, the better Unicorn. Braver, stronger, hardier, more determined. Every inch the heroic Prince ponies expected of the Blood line, and so much better than his son.

Like they'd ever give me the chance anyway, Blueblood mused sourly. Not like there's any wars to go prove myself in these days…

A sudden loud noise rang out, shaking the room slightly and making everypony duck. Everypony, that is, except Blueblood. His eyes widened almost reflexively at the sound of the blaring horn. Everypony in his family knew that noise - his father had drilled into him exactly what it meant.

"Oh," he murmured, turning around in his chair. Without another word, he dropped a bag of bits on the bar and walked out, ignoring the half confused, half amazed cry of the barmare as she counted a full month's earnings in the bag. He walked out onto the street, looking up at the ever expanding shockwave of blue magic.

The Clarion Call, he thought with astonishment. The call to war for the armies of Equestria. That's…

There were no words in voice or thought for what that was. The Clarion was a legend, one that all ponies from the royal lines knew and the military trained to respond to, but one that everypony else knew of as a legend, nothing more. Rumour had it that the last time it had sounded was over eight hundred years ago, when Captain Eternal Guard had led a guard revolt and Blueblood's own illustrious ancestor, Blueblood XXXVI, had stopped him.

Without another word, Blueblood headed to the palace. Though he had left the military, he was a Blood. Much as he hated the idea of going to war… if Equestria called, no son of his line would fail to answer. It wasn't just tradition. It was part of him.

Watch me, Dad, he thought, determination fuelled by alcohol in his eyes. Watch me do our family proud.

***

New Aquila, The Griffon Empire.

When the call blared across the sky, Emperor Abelard Augustus was overlooking his realm, as he was wont to do. He didn't react openly to the blaring sound or the shockwave across the sky. He didn't need to. A slight scowl was the only sign he had even seen it.

“My lord!” a voice called from behind him. “My lord!”

Gertrude Van Gant was one of his adjutants, a pleasant enough lass when she wasn't worrying about… well, everything.

“My lord!” she called again. “In the sky! It’s -!”

“I know,” he said simply, and she stopped stammering. He turned to face her. “I have eyes, Gertrude.”

“T-then what do we do?” she asked.

Augustus smiled softly. “Summon Prince Gardell, and call out the Royal Guard. Also fetch Lord Garth of the Knights of Aquilus. We have a little trip to plan.”

Gertrude nodded, and turned to go.

“Oh, and Gertrude,” Augustus added, and she turned back to look at him. “Sound the horn of Aquilus as you go, there's a good lass.”

Gertrude's eyes widened. “T-the horn of Aquilus?”

“Did I stammer?” Augustus asked gently. “Sound the horn. This is a time of crisis, but I will not have Equestria out sound me for calling my people to war. We have our own cry to action.”

Gertrude nodded once, and turned to leave. Augustus found himself stood alone once more. A few minutes later, a loud, blaring war-horn - sounding not unlike the call of a great bird - sounded across the city. If the Clarion of Equestria was a summons, the horn of Aquilus was a wake-up call that Griffons would never fail to heed. It was the cry for their kind to move to action, a sign of calamity ahead. Augustus sighed.

And now, he thought to himself, we shall see what moves the mare who holds the sun to call for my help.

***

Golden Oaks Library, Ponyville.

Twilight looked up as the sound of a great horn blaring out shook the very roots of the Golden Oaks Library.

"What in Celestia's name was that?!" Spike yelled from the kitchen, eyes wide with shock and fear as books fell from their shelves.

Twilight narrowed her eyes. There were myths and legends she knew, but they were of times many hundreds and thousands of years ago. Legends of the call that had rung across Equestria, sounded at times of panic… but there was no way…

Before she could ponder further, Spike burped up a letter and, without a word, handed it to her. She sighed, opening it up.

Dear Twilight,

Come at once to Canterlot. You will have heard the Clarion Call. If you know that name, you know what it means. Bring your friends - we will need the Elements for this.

I'm sorry.

Celestia.

Twilight dropped the note, eyes wide. She did know the name, and she did know what it meant. And what it meant was more terrifying than any task that had ever been set before her - even the Crystal Empire.

"Twilight?" Spike asked, seeing her expression and looking suddenly worried. "What's wrong?"

"Spike…" she said softly, but no other words came. Instead, she walked slowly over to him and hugged him, trying to push all the love she felt for him through the hug. Whatever happened now, she knew there was a good chance she would not survive it. She needed to connect while she could.

"Twilight, what's wrong?" the little dragon asked.

She didn't answer for a long time.

***

Unknown location, Eastern Equus.

In the depths of a deep, dark forest, warm amber eyes stared at the expanding wave as it laced across the sky. Birds flew into the sky as the great war-horn sounded, blaring out and startling them. The figure pondered the meaning of that call for a long time, before turning away from the sky and walking back into the woods.

At first she ignored the loud cacophony. Politics was not the play of the trees. The trees were silent, the trees were still, and when Kings and nations fell, the trees would wait, watch, and always remember.

Even as she glided between the trees the thin canopy of the wide copse she was wandering within revealed the wave of force that passed overhead. She was not really one to consider the affairs of the outside world. It had never been an interest of hers though circumstances had forced her to involve herself at certain points in her life.

As she watched the receding light and final echoes of the loud horn-call, she pondered what was going on.

The wind picked up around her as she lifted her body off of the ground. Rising into the air, she carefully parted the branches and leaves of the trees above her and cleared the canopy altogether.

Looking out over the forest, she looked over the land she called home. The copse had been on the slope of a mountainside that led down into a massive wooded valley, a great river running through the middle of it. The valley ran on into the horizon, the opposite mountain rose into the air, obscuring the land beyond. The wave of force carried over the mountains and disappeared from view.

Still curious she turned away and climbed up the mountain slope, flying over the trees on the wind, whipping the leaves and branches as she passed. Birds took to wing as she passed, crying out and singing in joy at her presence. As she carried herself up to the top of the valley wall, she once again found the wave moving on into the distance, the noise already gone.

This was a new experience to her. So few things ever disturbed her realm anymore and the sign of something so vast and alien was disturbing. Something clearly wasn’t right.

Frowning at the thought of outside events intruding on her realm once more, she picked herself up and rose high into the sky. Riding the winds, her long green hair and diaphanous shift flowing behind her, she rose above the clouds Shutting her eyes, she flew through the cloud-cover, feeling the cool vapour washing over her until she felt the sunlight bathe her.

Opening her eyes again, she looked down through the thin layer of clouds at the and below. Stretching underneath her was an endless undulating land covered in trees stretching on into the distance like a carpet of green. Through her eyes she could see the lives of the trees, their energy and souls writhing and undulating like the pulses of any animal. Hidden amongst the hidden veils of the woods, she could also spy her moving children stalking between the trees, gliding and dancing through the land.

Shooting back down to the ground, she rode onto the tips of the trees and quickly flew back over the land, her eyes roaming back and forth as she searched for a particular mound hidden by her trees.

The trees and clearings whipped beneath her, the occasional animal or other creature also appearing. Her mind on her mission, she ignored them passing under her, even as they celebrated her presence and passing.

In the distance, her eyes could see a lone mountain, a monument to nature’s might that others had taken as the shrine to an ancient hero. Her destination in sight, she sped towards it in search of the one who could respond to the coming crisis.

Finally, after hours of travel, she began to find what she was looking for. The trees remained thick but now great artificial structures were beginning to punctuate her trees. Great ruins, aged remnants of walls and towers now covered in creepers and vines, broke through the thick canopy, announcing the presence of the mountain’s inhabitant.

Following the ruins, she moved to where the greatest number of piled stones lay. Here the trees were thinned and carefully spaced, as if someone were tending them and keeping them in place.

She knelt by the pile, gently, and simply stared at it for a long time. She came here still, as often as she could, and briefly an image of fire and calamity consuming this place flashed through her mind, chaos and uncertainty all around. She sat in silence, and considered.

She could feel the energy of the forest around her, writhing and pulsing like the smaller flares of the animals that lived within it. Behind her, however, was a much larger and more powerful beacon.

Turning from the pile she looked to the wall of the mountain. Cut into the skin of the rock face was a massive arch, covered in worn carvings and blocked by immense stones, cut as smooth as the arch pillars around them. Behind those stones was the one she sought, her husband who slept beneath the mountain, unaware of the world around him and unwilling to realise he need to confine himself behind the rock.

She flitted towards the stones of the arch, the gateway into the mountain and reached out to it. To her the great grey stones were warm, barely holding back the beacon’s energy. She pressed against it, forcing her essence and thoughts at the edges of the golden light of the energy within the mountain. Frowning, she tried to push at the unyielding light, unable to move it aside. Like the countless times she tried before, what lay within the mountain would not respond.

“Stubborn fool,” she muttered to herself, speaking aloud in a quiet voice that sounded like flowing water.

Stepping back from the stones, she regarded the gate and the arch around it. She couldn’t understood her husband these days, one who could dream so large and yet think so narrowly at the same time. Sighing in her mind, she rose into the sky once again.

Concerns and fears, visions of fire and calamity, of death and destruction the likes of which had not been seen in many millennia. They were all coming, she was sure of it.

Once again the world would pass her and her husband by. Kingdoms would rise and fall, empires would expand and collapse, wise rulers would live for eternity and learn what they wished and the forest would remain.

Or would it?

The trees watched. The trees waited. And all the years of their lives were as pinpricks to the certainty of the forest…

… but even forests could die.

Shutting her eyes in sorrow, she took to the skies. The light had come from the east and so to the east she would get answers. She flew over her lands, in the direction of what lay beyond. For the first time in millennia she would be the one to help shape the world’s fate.

She was sure she would be needed.

***

Celestia's Throne Room.

Luna stepped away from the window, eyes closed as she took a deep breath. When she opened them, she found herself looking at the resolute face of her sister. Her own face took on that same expression, and she bowed before her sister.

"My liege," she said in olde Equestrian speak. "I, Sidera Somniata Luna, renew my oath to thy service. My blade is yours to wield, and my life yours to command. Thy command is mine will, thine enemies mine, thine causes mine own, yea, though the abyss take me."

"Rise, Sister," Celestia replied, and Luna rose to look her sister in the eye.

It had been an age or more since either of them had used the Old Names. The Sun Diarch sighed: a sign of the seriousness of their plight, perhaps, that Luna would use the old names so.

"Sidera Somniata Luna, I, Gloriana Regalia Celestia, do hear your words. Thine blade is accepted, and thine fealty acknowledged. And to thou I say this - I shall lead fair, and I shall lead true, yea, though the abyss take me."

The formalities over, Celestia smiled tiredly. "It's been a long time. I didn't really need the words."

"No, you did not - but I needed to say them," Luna replied solemnly, slipping slightly back to her archaic tone. "The last time I went to war, it was as thine enemy."

"Your past is long forgiven, Luna," Celestia murmured with a smile.

Luna bowed again. "Command me, sister. What would you have us do?"

Celestia looked thoughtful for a long moment, as though considering the question.

"The humans will require an emissary of our kind," she said. "An ambassador to show that we are their allies - and a commander to lead our forces in tandem with their own. I can think of no better choice than you."

"I am honoured," Luna said. "When do I go?"

“Soon, sister,” Celestia told her. “First, though, we must gather our council. We must prepare.”

***

Author's Notes:

Howdy all :-)

So, I've been really pleased with the positive response this story has been getting. It's really justified my desire to write this story, and I'm really happy about it. However, I'm afraid this will be the last update for a little while, for a couple of reasons. Mainly, IRL stuff is being a pain. I'm also trying to write an original novel, which means that this story (and indeed, all fanfic) has to to take a backseat. Finally, I want to make a real effort to make the best story I can - and that means that I'll be being doubley meticulous with this stuff, making sure you get the best chapters possible.

So: until the next chapter comes out, have a good one guys. :-)

Jed.

War Drums

***

"We're gonna help you kick the evil Equestria in the flank."
Rainbow Dash, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Canterlot Train Station, Canterlot, May 7th. Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Twilight stepped off of the train and onto the platform, a feeling of dread hanging over her like the proverbial black cloud. Behind her, she could feel the tension coming from her friends as well. They'd gotten the first train they could to Canterlot, packing supplies and other essentials and heading off at first light.

Twilight could still remember the confused, teary-eyed expression Spike had worn, the dragon not understanding why Twilight had to go. She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she was going to help in a war. She didn't really have the heart to go to war at all - but Celestia had called and she would answer.

The station was full of hustle and bustle - Guards were going hither and thither, looking harried or concerned. Officers were calling orders, and porters were pushing large boxes of what might have been equipment through the streets. The city was gearing up for something - you could tell.

“So,” Rarity said grimly. “I believe it would be a safe bet to say the human’s the reason for this.”

“One human causin’ this much fuss?” Applejack commented.

“It isn't necessarily the case that he's the enemy,” Rarity said quietly. “Perhaps the mare he actually sought is.”

“What, some evil future version of Celestia with a bad goatee?” Rainbow Dash said with a derisive snort. “C’mon, Rare. That's just -”

“We can't rule anything out,” Twilight said, silencing everypony. “We’ve been called, the call’s gone out, which means something big is happening. That's the important thing.”

“Besides, the goatee would be unfashionable,” Rarity added.

Lyra stepped up to stand next to her.

“It's been a while since I came back,” she said quietly. “There's a few guys I come visit once in awhile, but it's been… I don't know. I haven't been since about… four months before the Mole visit, maybe?”

Twilight glanced back at her. “It's… been a long time since I saw any of the old crowd either.”
She chuckled. “I wonder how Moondancer is… it was Moondancer, wasn't it?”

“Yeah,” Lyra smiled - Twilight had never been the best at names in the old days. “She… yeah. Best not.”

Twilight sighed. “And now the Clarion Call’s gone up.”

“Bon-Bon was acting all weird about it too,” Lyra said with a slight frown. “Like she was spooked.”

“So she should be,” Twilight said, “given what it means.”

Lyra shrugged. “I’ve never read about it.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “For somepony who’s made a study of the obscure, you seem to miss some big deals in our history.”

Lyra shrugged. “It was Equestria’s history or a thorough study of the old Primatian Empire before the sundering. No contest.”

“... right,” Twilight said, a soft smile upon her face. “It’s an ancient spell - a kind of war-horn, summoning the forces of Equestria to battle. It’s kind of a sign of imminent, terrifying catastrophe.”

“So… it’s like a Pinkie Sense, but for the whole of Equestria?” Pinkie put in, coming up from behind them.

Twilight chuckled. “Not quite. But it’s got the same connotations as a Pinkie Sense in one way.” She paused. “It’s a sign of things to come.”

“Like the Gjallarhorn?” Pinkie asked.

“...Yes, exactly,” Lyra said. “Wait, how do you know about-”

“...Don’t question it,” Twilight sighed. “The Clarion Call, though, it’s never called on when things are perfectly fine.”

With that somewhat ominous phrase, she started trotting up the path to the castle. No doubt, there was a lot of work to do.

***

Canterlot Barracks.

Guardspony True Grit stood to attention, the forest-green Unicorn looking the very image of an Equestrian Royal Guard, as Commander Flash Sentry stepped up, moving to address the entire Canterlot 2nd Regiment. Sentry was a recent addition to the command structure, but he seemed solid enough, if a little… florid.

“Mares and gentlestallions,” he said seriously, “you’ve seen the Clarion. We have been summoned to answer a threat to Equestria. We don’t have any details yet, but scuttlebutt is that this is a big one.”

“Sir?” one of the guards next to Grit said in a soft voice. “Is it the Griffons?”

“Don’t count on it,” Sentry said with a knowing smile. “I know there's going to be a lot of speculation - the white horse knows I’m curious myself - but I don’t want any rumour-mongering, guys. I want us to focus on preparing - Sergeant Sternguard will run through some basic jobs we need to cover. Guards Timber, Press, Hoof and Grit will join Sergeant Stronghoof for training on shieldbearer duty.”

Grit exchanged a glance with his friend, a grey Earth Pony named Steady Hoof, who was stood next to him. Shieldbearers hadn’t been used in years, not since General Steelblood’s attack on the Rok. They were, charitably, heavy duty gear, and you didn’t break them out unless something serious was going down - which it hadn't since that fight.

“Remember,” Sentry said as he finished giving out orders. “I want speculation at the minimum. First pony I hear saying we’re going to war with tentacle monsters from the Xth Dimension gets latrine duty for three months.”

With that, he headed off, leaving the Guards in the hooves of their Sergeants. Stronghoof, at least, was a fair, if gruff, old stallion with a bit of a sense of humour. Compared to Sternguard - a stallion with a pole shoved so far up his plot he could use it as a tongue - he was practically a saint.

“So,” Steady Hoof asked quietly. “Whaddya think, True? Who’re we up against?”

True Grit frowned slightly. “You heard the Commander, Stead. No scuttlebutting, yeah?”

Steady Hoof made a vague ‘pfft’ noise. “He isn’t exactly telepathic. We can talk.”

Grit sighed. “I… honestly, Celestia knows what we’re up against.” He smirked. “Heck, she probably does.”

“Yeah,” Hoof said, his expression darkening. “Is it just me, or is this horseapples probably bigger than they want to tell us?”

Grit sighed. “Worrying about it won't help.”

“Hoof, Grit!” Stronghoof called from over by the armoury. “Get your plots over here, double time!”

Steady Hoof grimaced. “Yes sir! On our way!”

True Grit grinned slightly as the two of them jogged over to where he was already speaking with Timber and Press. He appreciated Stronghoof’s leadership skills - stallion knew when to be a hard case and when not to be. Steady Hoof tended to not like any of the sergeants - he was a more relaxed individual - but even he could appreciate it when a Sergeant was good at his work.

“Alright, you lazy collection of plotwipes,” Stronghoof said with a grin as the two approached him, both standing to attention. “Shieldbearer duty - tricky business. You know what you’re doing?”

The soldiers shook their heads.

“And why the buck not?” Stronghoof asked.

“Shieldbearers haven’t been used in yonks,” Steady Hoof pointed out. “Er, sir.”

“It's not even covered in basic beyond a few history lessons, sir,” True Grit said with a slight frown of confusion.

“You’re right about that,” Stronghoof said, a scowl on his face. “But that doesn’t mean that you should be unfamiliar with equipment and tactics used in this pony’s army!” His scowl dropped, revealing a smirk. “Fortunately for you lads, you’re speaking to an expert.”

True Grit and Steady Hoof suppressed groans. This was going to be a long conversation…

***

Elsewhere in the barracks, Corporal Errant Flight stood at attention in a small office, as his senior officer, Stormwing, entered the room, looking mildly miffed. Errant Flight had his helmet off, exposing an auburn coat and light brown main, and saluted.

“Sir!” he said.

Stormwing gave him a look that was somewhere between a resigned tiredness and bemusement.

“Corporal,” he said grimly. “Glad you’re here.”

Errant dropped the salute after a moment.

“Corporal Flight,” the officer said. “Do you know why you’ve been demoted three times from the rank of Sergeant back to Corporal?”

Errant Flight gulped. “Uh, yes sir. Disorderly conduct, sir.”

Stormwing raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘disorderly’ for me, son.”

“...Behavior unbecoming of a royal guardsman?”

“Buck, that’s the manual’s definition,” Stormwing said. “I didn’t put you through training to parrot a manual, give me specifics right now!”

Errant grimaced slightly. “Uh, drinking and gambling, sir.”

“Drinking and gambling,” Stormwing repeated. “Do you know why you keep getting re-promoted?”

“Uh, no sir,” Errant admitted.

Stormwing sighed heavily. “Your scores are damn high. You’re a good leader on a team basis, the ponies who follow you respect you because you’re basically just like them, and you’ve never gotten a pony so much as scratched in a test encounter. That’s high quality to be wasting ‘drinking and gambling’, and we know that well enough to keep giving you chances. But now, things are different.”

Errant swallowed - this was doubtless where things were about to get… painful.

“We’re going to war, boy,” Stormwing said grimly. “Ponies are going to die. The Clarion Call isn’t a beacon for some border skirmish with some upstart inbred Griffon Duke who thinks he should have a bigger back garden, or some Dragon Lord who wants more pillows-”

Errant tried desperately not to make a witty comment.

“-I know what you’re thinking. It happened, we don’t like to talk about it,” Stormwing said irritably. “All the Princess said afterward was ‘be thankful he wasn’t a Draconnissian’, whatever the heck that means.” He paused. “The Clarion Call means catastrophe. C-A-T-A-S-T-R-O-P-H-E. This is a war that we’re going into and probably not coming out of. Just because we don’t know who we’re fighting yet, that don’t mean we won’t soon, and I guarantee you, we don’t have enough troops.”

Errant frowned, not sure where his officer was going with this.

“Therefore, Commander Sentry has authorised me to organise the Cloudsdale Militia,” Stormwing said grimly. “I am personally going to rile the Pegasi of our first city back into their natural state of wanting to personally run some bucker through with a sharp object. You, Corporal Flight - or should I say Drill Sergeant Flight - will be accompanying me to make sure that this is done right, and those ponies get high quality training!”

Errant widened his eyes. He knew the situation was serious, but actually raising a militia?

“Sir, if I may,” he said, “I don’t believe I can -”

“I don’t care what you can or cannot do, Flight,” Stormwing snapped. “We are not here for that. We’re here for the Clarion Call, for Princesses, and Country. In that cause, you can and you will, am I clear?!”

Errant snapped to attention. “Sir, yes sir!”

“Good!” Stormwing said. “Now get your plot packed and ready to go with the training squad in the next hour!”

Errant saluted again, put his helmet back on and dashed out of the room.

This… was not how he had expected today to go. It was a lot scarier than he had expected today to go.

So now I get to train a bunch of civvies in fighting, and then after that I probably get to join them and go die, he thought to himself. Great. So much for a cushy Guard job like my mother wanted me to get.

***

Canterlot Courtyard.

Celestia stood quietly, overlooking the display as the Royal Guard began arraying themselves for battle.

The Canterlot 1st, 2nd and 3rd Royal “Day” Guard were all arrayed before her in parade formation, standing fifty to a row. Three long, disciplined lines filled the primary courtyard in complete silence, the only noise the sound of weaponry shifting slightly in the wind. Sunlight glinted off their golden armour and steel weaponry as they awaited her inspection.

On the flanks of the three columns were the Canterlot 1st and 2nd Night Guard, their blue and purple armour a sharp contrast with the glaring brilliance of their counterparts. They too stood to attention, but cut a far more lean and predatory figure than the solid ponies of her Day Guard. At the front of each formation were seven rows of Thestrals, the bat-ponies standing as stiffly as their true-pony comrades but exuding a more wolfish aura of readiness.

These were her sister’s forces, five thousand of the finest soldiers Equestria had to offer at this point. More would come of course but they did not have the time to wait for them. A move had to be made and a presence in the other world - this Earth - had to be established. Time was of the essence and so the Princess of the Night had volunteered to make the first move.

They were only part of the force she was sending - elements of the Canterlot 5th, 7th and 10th, the Cloudsdale Militia and the 112th Equestrian Magi corp were being assembled to join these units as well: Celestia had called upon every regiment she could, and was only going to call more. She was preparing everything.

Row after row of solid Guardsponies now stood before Princess Celestia, their spears raised high at attention. The Earth Ponies and Unicorns carrying them stood tall and proud, the dignity of their regiments evident in their still expressions and noble bearing. In front of them, standing three rows deep, were ponies carrying immense square shields on their back. Celestia knew that every one of the heavy barricades was heavily enchanted. The moment the brave ponies carrying them planted them in the ground they would hold fast, yielding to nothing.

Pegasi regiments waited at the rear of the impressive formations, virtually indistinguishable from their ground-bound brethren but carrying themselves with a more loose dignity than the steady Earth Ponies and Unicorns. Even at attention, with no threat present before them, the Pegasi of the Royal Guard looked ready to leap at a foe at a moment’s notice.

Behind the assemblage was a more impressive sight. Three massive towers thrust into the air, looming over the ponies. Decorated in shining gold and deep purple, the massive constructs shone in the sun. Ornate balustrades and balconies crewed by Unicorns hung from the side and at the top was a marble white dome that pivoted on golden bracing. Sticking out of one side of the dome was the large barrel of an Arcannon. What stood out the most for these constructs, however, was the fact that they were all hovering at least five feet above the ground, the rounded base of each thirty five foot structure floating steadily in the air.

These were the Royal Bastions, three specially made Starlit Towers built to support the Canterlot Guard divisions. Not since the Third New Eagleland invasion had they been taken from the city limits.

“We’ve had some trouble readjusting to the shields, but they should be good for field use,” an officer by the name of Commander Charlie Horse (son of Gift Horse, an esteemed toymaker - the Commander’s life choices had, suffice it to say, confused quite a few ponies). “Haven't seen ‘em used except in basic.”

“This conflict will require everything we can throw at it,” Celestia said quietly.

“I’ll take you at your word on that, your highness,” Charlie Horse said. “Since we still don't know what we’re fighting.”

Celestia glanced sidelong at the Earth Pony commander. “Speak freely, by all means.”

The Earth Pony sighed. “Sorry, your highness. I just… your soldiers will fight any war, for any cause you ask.”

I know, she thought with a sudden twinge of guilt. And maybe you shouldn't.

“But we like knowing who we’re fighting,” Charlie Horse finished. “This secrecy’s getting to the troops - and frankly, it’s getting to me.”

Celestia nodded. “When Princess Luna assumes command of this expeditionary force, she will explain everything in full.”

Charlie Horse frowned slightly. “Yes, your highness.”

Celestia noted the tone of his reply, but said nothing more. She knew that many of the Guard, much as Luna had now become a staple of Equestria’s society, still weren't sure about the Lunar Diarch. She had never led these ponies in battle - had never proven herself to them, not like Celestia had. The last time Luna had stood alongside ponies in battle, it had been a millennia ago.

That was, in part, one of the reasons that Celestia had assigned the Night Guard to this mission. The Thestrals remembered Luna as one of their most revered figures - so much so that the Lunar Diarch’s absence had caused the Thestrals to become isolationist, a trait even now they had barely gotten past. There were very few Thestrals - the members of the newly reinstated Night Guard aside - living outside of their traditional lands.

Celestia sighed. She hoped that Luna would be up to this - as much as she trusted her sister’s skill, it had been a long time since she had led ponies into combat. Her Guard, much as she hated to admit it, had been forced to adapt - even if very little - to the changing tides of war.

“My lady?” a soft voice said from behind Celestia, disturbing her thoughts.

She turned to see one of her adjutants, a nervous looking Pegasus mare, standing nearby. “Yes, Fret?”

“The Element Bearers are at the Palace awaiting your presence,” the mare said quietly. “Should I ask them to come down?”

“No,” Celestia said quietly. “No, I’ll go up. Is there any word on Captain Shining Armour’s return?”

“He’s sent word ahead that he and Princess Cadenza shall be here soon,” Fret said quietly. “And, uh… Prince Blueblood has requested to have his position in the Day Guard reinstated.”

Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Blueblood has?”

“Yes, your highness,” Fret said quietly. “Uh… he was quite insistent. And… uh… possibly drunk.”

Celestia couldn't help but smile slightly. She had always assumed his dispute with his father had put him off military service. Still, he had been a competent officer in his time - he might not have been the equal of his father, but he would have gone quite far.

“We don't have room for him in the Guard - assign him command of the Sunrider and a naval commission,” she said eventually. “Inform him he will be sent in with the second wave.” She smirked. “That is, if he doesn’t change his mind when he sobers up.”

“Yes, your highness,” Fret said. With a bow, she moved off.

Celestia sighed and turned back to Charlie Horse. “Carry on, Commander.”

“Yes, your highness,” Horse said curtly.

Celestia spread her wings and took to the sky, heading back to the throne room - it was time to move quickly.

***

David Elliot’s room.

Princess Luna, a leather saddlebag at her side, stepped into the room her sister had designated for the human’s recovery. She moved as quietly as she could, so as not to disturb his rest, but it proved unnecessary - the human was awake, sat up on the bed, looking for all the world like he didn’t know what he was doing there. When she entered, he glanced at her immediately. Luna tensed, but to her surprise he did not move.

“Hello,” he said quietly, smiling slightly.

She nodded in greeting, though for the moment she remained silent.

“I guess you wanted to come and stare at the weird human thing,” he said, a mirthless smile on his face. “Can’t say as I blame you - according to a bunch of the guys I know, ponies haven’t ever -”

“I’ve met humans before you,” Luna said simply, cutting him off. “A long time ago, there was a civilisation of humans on Equus. We never interacted with them much in the old days, but they did exist.” She paused. “That was before the Discordant age, though.”

He didn’t ask what that was. His expression was neutral - or at least, she thought it was neutral. She’d never been overly good at recognising the more subtle human facial expressions even when she had met them before.

“What can I do for you?” he asked after a long moment. “That is, assuming you didn’t come to gloat.”

“‘Gloat’?” Luna repeated.

“Yeah, gloat,” the human said, and now there was genuine mirth in his expression. “You’re the one who took me out, after all.”

Luna paused, thinking back to their fight. “Yes, I suppose I did manage to knock you out - though it was hardly the most glorious victory I’ve ever won, under the circumstances.”

“I’d call it a cheap shot, myself,” the human said with a smirk.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “A ‘cheap shot’, indeed? Perhaps you would care for a rematch?”

The human’s smirk faded. “Maybe another time, Your Highness.” He paused. “David Elliot, by the way.”

“Excuse me?” Luna asked, frowning in confusion.

“You didn't ask what my name was,” the human clarified. “It’s David Elliot. I’m a Major. Also, technically, a ‘Force Commander’, though that one’s nebulous as all heck.”

Luna nodded again. “It is good to meet you, Force Commander - at least, good to meet you without having you try to chop my head off.”

“Yeah, that was a bit of an… interesting introduction,” Elliot agreed, a slight sarcastic tint to his tone. “Still. You didn’t come here to talk about that.”

“No,” Luna said quietly. She turned to the saddlebag she carried and brought out a small scroll. “I came to show you this.”

He took the scroll from her, frowning slightly as he did so, before looking over the scroll. His eyes narrowed as he read, before he looked Luna in the eyes.

“This is a list of units,” he said.

“Five full regiments of Day and Night Guard, and elements from at least five more,” Luna confirmed with a nod. “All that could be summoned on such short notice. We have more being assembled for a second wave, but you will doubtless understand that these things do take time.”

Elliot rolled up the scroll, handing it back to Luna, who took it with a nod. He turned away from her for a moment.

“She meant it,” he said quietly, almost disbelieving. “She actually meant it.”

Luna frowned. “What do you mean?”

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes full of something almost like… hope.

“I didn’t believe your sister when she said she’d send help,” he said softly. “I thought…”

“You thought it was too good to be true,” Luna said quietly. “I can well understand that, if your situation is as dire as she tells me.”

“We haven’t had good news like this for years,” he said softly. “Actually it’s been mostly bad news. The steel wall in 31, first battle of London in 30, the battle of Manchester in 25…” He trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “You get the picture.”

“It has been… difficult,” Luna guessed.

“It’s been pretty much impossible at times,” Elliot smirked mirthlessly. “But we’ve managed. Well, we’ve not all died yet. Not sure that counts as ‘managing’.”

“Sometimes, ‘not dying’ is a victory in itself,” the Lunar Diarch said with a soft, reassuring smile.

Elliot’s smile turned bitter. “Yeah - and not an easy one. Sometimes it isn’t a victory everyone wins. Not one you come back from thinking you won, either.”

Luna nodded slowly. “That, I know too well.”

The two of them sat in silence for a long moment, letting the words they had spoken hang in the air.

“I'm sorry,” Elliot said after a long pause. “I didn't want her to send anyone - anypony. It's not why I came here.”

“No, you came here by accident,” Luna said with the ghost of a smile. “But do not apologise - I may not have been as eager to jump into this battle as my sister, but she is right when she says that we should not shirk this duty. Good and evil are not changed simply because one is a different shape and comes from another land.”

Elliot nodded, smiling again. “Then, thank you, Princess Luna. I never knew you in my world, but I see now that I would have liked to.” He took a breath. “What do you need from me?”

Luna looked back to the scroll. “You can see here the unit lists - as I said, every soldier we could summon at short notice. I will need your help figuring out how best to deploy them. The terrain they will be entering, what sort of weapons we will be facing.”

Elliot sucked in a deep breath. “Alright, let's have a look.”

***

Canterlot Palace Throne Room.

Celestia was standing by her throne, looking pensive, when Twilight and her friends arrived. Only a handful of times had Twilight seen Celestia looking that worried: chief amongst them was when Discord had broken out of his prison.

“Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked. “Are you ok?”

Celestia looked at her. “Twilight. It's good that you and your friends are here. We’ve much to discuss.”

Twilight nodded at that. “You sent the Clarion Call.”

“I did,” Celestia said quietly. “You know what it means?”

“With all due respect, your highness,” Rarity said from behind Twilight, and Twilight glanced back at her, “Twilight may know, but we’re still sort of in the dark ourselves. Twilight explained that the Clarion Call is a call to war - but… well, what war, with whom?”

Celestia smiled at that. “Now, that would be the difficult question.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Princess, Ah reckon all the most important ones are,” Applejack said quietly.

“That is true,” Celestia agreed. “This question is a particularly strange one, though, and the answer stranger still.”

“If I may, Princess,” Rarity said, and Celestia nodded. “It’s something to do with the human, that much seems clear - but is the war against his people, or is it something else?”

Celestia’s smile faded somewhat. “No, the war is not against his people. In fact, we are going to war to help save them.”

There was a pause as the Element bearers processed this.

“Save them?” Lyra repeated, sounding confused. “From what?”

“We have already seen part of this,” Celestia said quietly, looking at Twilight. “His memories were real. Another world, another Equestria. One bent on genocide.”

“An… an Equestria that… that’s trying to destroy a whole race?” Fluttershy stammered, her eyes wide. “I…why?”

“The ‘why’ is a question we can ask when we are granted the time,” Celestia said quietly. “Right now, we are faced with a single course of action - to intervene.”

There was another long pause.

“How?” Twilight finally asked.

“Princess Luna will be leading a first wave,” Celestia said quietly, turning away from the group and heading for the window. “From there, more troops will be sent to reinforce that initial wave. Your brother, Twilight, will be among those reinforcements.” Celestia paused. “And you six, and Miss Heartstrings as well, will have your part to play.”

“What part, Princess?” Rarity asked, frowning slightly. “Forgive me, but none of us are soldiers. We can't fight.”

“Speak for yourself!” Rainbow put in with a smirk. “I’ll kick that evil Equestria’s flank, no problem!”

“Rarity’s right,” Fluttershy said quietly. “We’re not trained soldiers. We can't just go into a fight and expect to win.”

“Then what?” Rainbow asked with a snort.

“We could throw parties?” Pinkie put in.

Rainbow facehoofed. “Parties won't -”

“No, hear me out!” Pinkie insisted. “Wars make ponies unhappy - I bet it makes humans unhappy too! So parties can make them happy again!”

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, and then, to everypony’s surprise, Celestia chuckled.

“Pinkie Pie,” she said quietly, a soft smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, “you are wiser than you know. And you're right - there will come a point where making these humans feel happiness again, even for a short time, will be as great a victory as any on the battlefield.” Her smile faded. “But first, unfortunately, we must win a victory on the battlefield.”

Twilight took a deep breath, and shared a glance with the others. They gave her resolute nods, even Fluttershy looking determined, despite the fear in her eyes. Twilight turned to look back at the Princess.

“What do you need us to do?” she asked.

***

Assemble

***

"Don’t worry. I can explain just about everything."
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Elliot’s Room, Canterlot. May 7th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

“…so you'll have a lot of urban environments to deal with, especially with London being the first port of call,” Elliot was saying, sketching out a few lines. “Some wide streets, some narrow, lots of tall buildings on both sides with lots of sniping potential. Also lots of rubble. What you'd call traditional line tactics won't work at first, not in that terrain and not against the Ivory Guard, but prodigious use of shield spells -”

“Might prevent the worst of the offensive,” Luna finished, nodding. “Sending Unicorn marksponies with assault teams to secure vantage points would doubtless be of use as well.”

“Agreed,” Elliot said with a smile. “Taking the high ground will allow your troops to lay down heavier fire on approaching forces.”

“Which will thin their numbers or force them to slow their approach,” Luna finished. “Yes, I see the tactic. Combined with a shield-wall covering the street itself, and the enemy will find themselves approaching an impassible barrier with the proverbial fires of Tartarus raining upon them.”

“A good defensive strategy,” Elliot complimented.

Luna nodded in acknowledgement, a slight frown developing on her face. Elliot frowned in turn, tilting his head.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

Luna shook her head slightly, as though startled from deep thought. “It is nothing. I… we…” She paused. “It has been a long time since I led ponies in battle.”

“Worried?” he asked.

Her frown deepened. “We are completely certain in our abilities, and those of our valiant soldiers.”

Elliot smiled wryly. “I am too. Always am.” He paused for a moment. “But really - are you worried?”

Luna sighed. “Yes. Yes I am. At least a little.”

Elliot nodded. “Yeah. I think everyone - everypony - who’s ever been on the precipice of a battle has to be a little nervous before battle, even if they've fought hundreds.”

“I am no novice,” Luna said, frowning in self-recrimination. “I should know better.”

“Novice or not,” the human said gently, “you're always going to be nervous. No matter how experienced you are, no matter how much you sit down and plan for every eventuality you can think of, you don't know what's going to happen, or how the day’s going to go.”

“I know,” Luna said quietly. “I’ve done this before. But it's been a millennia since I have set foot on a battlefield - part of me wonders whether I have…”

She trailed off.

“Lost your edge?” Elliot asked.

“Perhaps,” Luna said quietly.

“Ah,” Elliot said, nodding slowly. “Well, I’d hate to say ‘it's like riding a bike’ - I’ve not been fighting wars nearly as long as you or your sister. But don't worry too much about it.” He hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. “I think this is the kind of situation where you're gonna have a learning curve anyway. Don't worry about not being an expert straight away. Just do your best and hope.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, though she smiled slightly. “That is strange advice.”

He shrugged. “‘S how I learned. I’d never been in a battle before this war started. Now I’m in command of hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers, and it's up to me whether they live or die.” He smirked too. “Life throws you curveballs, I guess.”

Luna chuckled. “That it does.”

There was a long moment’s silence as the two of them let the words sink in.

“How did you come to be what you are?” Luna asked suddenly. “You say you have never been in battle - and yet now…”

“I was the only one who was there,” Elliot replied with a shrug. “I… truthfully, I was never one for conflict, but there wasn't a choice. And as things got worse, I had to keep taking up more responsibility - because I was the only one there, and no one else would, and I guess I felt I had to.”

“‘Some are born great, some have greatness thrust upon them’,” Luna quoted.

“You have that too, huh?” Elliot said with a chuckle. “I wouldn't call it greatness. I’d call it… obligation. Not just standing there when fate - or God, or the world, or whoever - calls you to step up.” He paused. “I didn't have a choice. But I don't think I regret it.”

“I can respect that,” Luna said quietly. She paused, moving to stand up. “I must go speak with Commander Charlie Horse soon - he is the official commanding officer of the first wave. Doubtless he will need to hear the information you have give me.”

Elliot stood up too. “I still haven't explained some of the more esoteric stuff you'll be facing - Solamina’s armies have had some pretty… unpleasant innovations over the years.”

“Then you may explain on the way,” Luna said as she headed for the door. “War waits for nopony - and, I fear, no human.”

Elliot chuckled as he followed her. “Don't I know that.”

***

Ponyville.

Bon Bon was sitting thoughtfully, having felt pensive for the last day or so. Ponyville was bustling, the question of the big clarion in the sky on everypony’s lips. Guards had passed through, ponies had talked about something big on the horizon… and it was strange.

It didn’t help that Lyra, her roommate and friend, had gone off with Twilight and the other Element bearers. It worried Bon Bon that her friend had gone, because these sorts of situations didn't normally require anypony else to really help the Element bearers, and if it did, that made it…

A bigger deal than your average problem, and that just makes it more dangerous.

Add to that the Clarion Call, which had not sounded in living memory…

As she sat in thought, she spotted her friend - well, Lyra’s friend, her acquaintance - Ditzy Doo walking nearby, looking faintly bothered. Bon Bon stood up, walking over to meet her.

“Hey, Bon Bon!” Ditzy said in greeting.

“Hello, Ditzy,” Bon Bon said quietly. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, just to see Doctor Hooves,” Ditzy replied. “Hey, did you hear that horn yesterday?”

“Yeah,” Bon Bon said. “Do you know what that was?”

“Nope,” Ditzy said honestly. “Do you think it was important?”

“I think it might have been,” Bon Bon said quietly. “No way of knowing for sure until we hear something from Canterlot though.”

“Well, I thought I’d ask the Doctor,” Ditzy said. “I thought he might know what's going on.”

“Why would he?” Bon Bon asked, frowning slightly. “What makes you think -?”

“He just tends to know things,” Ditzy said, cutting her off with a slightly impatient expression. “I know you probably think I'm stupid, but I’m not.”

“I don't think you're stupid,” Bon Bon said, “but the Clarion Call isn't something the average pony knows much about.”

“Well,” Ditzy said, “the Doctor isn't an average pony.”

Bon Bon chuckled. “No, I guess that's true.”

“How d’you know about it, anyway?” Ditzy asked.

“Pardon?” Bon Bon asked.

“You said the average pony doesn't know much about the Clarion Call,” Ditzy said. “So how do you know about it?”

“The Clarion Call, should you ever hear it, is a sign of catastrophe inbound - but the chances of you agents ever hearing it…

“Heard Twilight talk about it once,” Bon Bon said simply.

“Oh,” Ditzy said. “That makes sense.”

***

Canterlot Library.

Celestia's instructions had been both infuriatingly vague and worryingly specific. She had told Twilight and her friends that they should ‘do what they were best at’, whatever that meant. Twilight had immediately headed for the library, and, left with little other option, her friends had followed.

“What I don't get is,” Rainbow said, as she started skimming a book, “what we’re gonna find in here that's even slightly useful. Books don't help in wars.”

She threw the book over her shoulder and grabbed another from a small pile accumulating near Fluttershy, who was grabbing any books with the word “war” in the title, as though they might have some insight.

“Don't be so sure,” Twilight said, sounding muffled from behind the cover of a particularly large tome that read, The Changing Face of War, by a pony called Sunny Side. “Tactics, formations, equipment - all of these things can be found in books.”

Rarity was sat next to her, reading a book called Guard Equipment of the New Alicornian Era. Every so often, she would tut at something.

“That book tickin’ you off, Rare?” Applejack asked from a nearby shelf, looking mildly irritated by her friend’s noises.

“These old uniforms,” Rarity said with a snort. “Mainly chainmail, leather tunics over, sometimes a cloak. It's a wonder these ponies ever won a war - modern plate armour is so much more useful. And more stylish.”

“I’m not sure stylish is really important when somepony wants to run you through,” Applejack said with a wry grin.

“No, that’s perhaps true,” Rarity said, though she seemed still less-than-certain about that, “but style aside, modern plate is just better. Although I suspect mail can allow for more flexibility.”

Twilight glanced over at the uniforms. “You know, I've often thought that enchanted cloth might work just as well.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Enchanted cloth?”

“You know,” Twilight said, “throw a few endurance and resilience charms so that it can repel most stuff. I guess it still wouldn't be quite as tough as Guard plate, but it'd be lighter. Lightening enchantments can’t quite get rid of all that steel’s bulk.”

Rarity frowned thoughtfully, before putting the book down and heading out of the library, muttering to herself. Twilight frowned slightly.

“Was it something I said?” she asked.

Pinkie Pie, who had been perusing the shelves for titles, chuckled slightly. “That's just Rarity’s ‘I have an idea’ face. It's kind of like her ‘I’m concentrating’ face, but with thirteen point three percent more frown, and it doesn't make the little line under her eyes.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You… catalogue facial expressions.”

“No,” Pinkie said. “I just know ‘em. If you’re a party pony, knowing expressions is very important, or you can't read the crowd.”

“You have to admit,” Lyra said suddenly, startling Twilight as she came up with a copy of Equestrian Elementary Educational’s Extra-Enigmatic Entities, “that makes sense. It's like trying to give a lecture about the glories of the old Primatians to the Homos Imperial Symposium. Bad idea all round.”

Twilight blinked. “The what to the what?”

“Oh, right,” Lyra said, a tad sheepishly. “Uh, like trying to give a speech about how awesome Celestia is to the ‘Equestrian Republican Committee’.”

“Ah,” Twilight said, nodding. “Read the crowd, got it. Don't know how we got onto that…”

“Rarity had an idea,” Pinkie supplied helpfully.

“Right,” Twilight nodded. She sighed. “I’m glad one of us does.”

“Chin up, Twi,” Applejack said cheerfully. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Y-yeah,” Fluttershy agreed from behind her growing pile. “We just… you know… need to find some way of saving an entire world…” She trailed off. “Oh dear. That… makes it sound less easy.”

“We can do it!” Pinkie said enthusiastically. “I mean, we’ve never failed before!”

“We’ve also never been asked to help fight a war before,” Applejack pointed out.

“Then we’ll find a way to help out!” Pinkie said, no less enthusiastic. “I believe in us! We’ve done all sorts of awesome stuff!”

“I hope you’re right,” Twilight said grimly. “There's a lot riding on us - Equestria’s going to war. I want to believe that we can play a part.”

“Maybe the Elements of Harmony can turn this evil goatee-wearing Celestia to stone?” Rainbow suggested blithely.

“That's a thought,” Applejack agreed. “There ain't no reason Ah can think of that they wouldn't do something.”

“There's no way of knowing for certain what effect they’d have against the… ‘evil goatee-wearing Celestia’, though,” Twilight pointed out. “The Elements don't just do one thing for one pony - they freed Luna, but they turned Discord to stone.”

“Did somepony mention moi?” a voice asked, and suddenly Discord was standing in the library, arms folded. Twilight stepped back, a little startled by his sudden appearance.

“Hello, Discord,” Fluttershy said quietly. “How are you?”

“Uncharacteristically concerned for the fate of all the little ponies of this world,” Discord deadpanned. “Since Celestia seems convinced about this ‘war’ business, she has me helping.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Rainbow asked, frowning skeptically. “Can you zap the evil Celestia?”

“I believe her name is ‘Solamina’,” Discord said gently, “and, regrettably, the answer is no.”

Rainbow snorted. “Yeah, figures.”

Discord ignored the snark in her comment. “I've been making some, shall we say, sneaking inquiries…”

“What does that mean?” Twilight asked.

Discord sighed. “A fair bit of dimension hopping and a modicum of spying, if you must know. In any case, I suspect there's more to this ‘Solamina’ than strictly meets the eye.”

“Like what?” Rainbow asked skeptically.

“I don't know, yet,” Discord said grimly, his face lacking any mirth. “I don't like not knowing.”

“None of us like not knowing, Discord,” Applejack said with a scowl. “Ah guess yer in the same boat as the rest of us.”

Discord snorted. “Ponies don't know things as a matter of course. Out of your entire town, I suspect Miss Heartstrings there is the only one who knows half the things that happened in your history that you've mostly forgotten.”

Lyra blushed. “I don't know that much.”

“Name the last king of the Asyram empire,” Discord said blandly.

“Emperor Ramses the Silenced, and the legends say he would have strung you by the tail if you called him a king,” Lyra said at once. She blushed even more as Rainbow and Applejack stared at her. “It's in an old book I read once. Very vivid descriptions.”

“See my point? Apart from Miss Heartstrings, your kind don't tend to know your own history,” Discord said. “But I know things.”

“Oh yeah?” Applejack said, turning a skeptical eye on him.

“That's me,” Discord said, snapping his claw. A glass of some amber liquid appeared in his paw. He drank the glass away. “I drink crockery and I know things.”

He zapped the liquid away, and grinned.

Twilight frowned. “So, not knowing -”

“Is not my thing,” Discord finished with a nod. “Not at all. It's actually somewhat uncomfortable even admitting it, but if this is as serious as it might be, being prideful, much as that is kinda my thing, is not a wise choice.”

Applejack sighed. “So if ya’ll don't know what the deal with this Solemna -”

“So-La-ME-Na,” Discord enunciated. “I know that at least.”

“Well, what else d’ya know?” Applejack asked.

Discord gave them a mirthless smile. “Only that if I can't… ‘zap her’… that there's a lot more to her than just being an evil Celestia. And she definitely doesn't have a goatee.”

And in a flash, he was gone.

“Well,” Rainbow said, sighing. “That's great. Just great.”

“And he ruined your joke,” Pinkie added solemnly.

***

Canterlot Throne Room.

Charlie Horse and Celestia were waiting in the throne room. The Commander looked nervous, and Celestia couldn't blame him - there were a lot of unknowns. All Celestia had said was that he would be meeting Luna and receiving a full briefing, which he would then be able to pass on.

Voices could be heard talking from outside the throne room, echoing down the approaching corridor.

“… and there's at least three or four different ammunition types,” the voice of David Elliot was saying.

“Solid ammunition with enchantment, understood,” Luna’s voice replied. “And these ‘Crystal Golems’ will be tricky.”

The door to the throne room opened, and in stepped Luna and Elliot, still talking. Luna was taking notes on a small scroll as she walked, and Elliot looked thoughtful, still dressed in the scruffy shirt and battered trousers he had arrived in. As they entered, Charlie Horse started.

“What the hay is that?!” he called, looking at Elliot. The human looked at the Royal Guard commander with a dumbfounded expression.

“Oh,” he said after a moment with a look of dawning comprehension. “Hi. David Elliot. Human.”

“Your highness, what… what is that thing?” Charlie Horse asked Celestia.

“That ‘thing’ is an honoured guest,” Celestia replied with a patient smile. “His name is Major David Elliot - he's a soldier.”

Charlie Horse frowned at Elliot, taking in his scruffy appearance.

“I know I don't exactly look the part,” Elliot said with an apologetic shrug. “But I've been through the wars - quite literally, as it happens.”

“I take it he's got something to do with the Clarion Call?” Charlie Horse asked.

Celestia and Luna shared a glance, the Lunar Diarch looking resigned.

“You… might say that,” Celestia said quietly.

***

Doctor Hooves’ home, Ponyville.

The home of Doctor Hooves was a cluttered, barely-traversable mess, and Bon Bon found it vaguely distasteful, even though it reminded her of Lyra. Actually, that might have been the reason she found it distasteful - Lyra’s living habits weren't exactly all pleasant.

Machines of various sorts filled the place, notes written in strange spiralling letters none of the three mares recognised covered the desks, and a chalkboard covered in equations - as well as having the word ‘LISTEN’ written in a loud and aggressive font - was stood in the corner, a dark green coat hung on its corner. Finally, a large sheet of tarpaulin covered something in the corner.

“Hi Doctor!” Ditzy said brightly.

The Doctor - a brown stallion with his mane swept back - was tapping away at something at his desk, his back to the two mares.

“Oh, hello Ditzy,” he said absently. “And hello Bon Bon as well - I’m sure you have a good reason for visiting, but can you give me five minutes while I quickly fix this?”

He turned, holding a small device in his hoof. He shook it, and it rattled. With a sigh, he threw it over his shoulder.

“So,” he said quietly. “What can I do for you?”

“We were just wondering if you knew what was going on,” Ditzy said brightly.

“‘What was going on’?” the Doctor repeated. “Why? What is going on?”

“You didn't hear the noise yesterday after I left?” Ditzy asked.

“No,” the Doctor said. “I was testing a sonic muffler, though, so…”

Bon Bon sighed at the Doctor’s words.

“The Clarion Call sounded,” she said.

There was a long pause as her words sank in. The Doctor’s face turned from innocent confusion to a sort of wide eyed shock.

“Sorry,” he said slowly. “Did you say the Clarion Call? The spell that hasn't been used since Eternal Guard’s uprising?”

“Yeah,” Bon Bon said quietly. “That's the one.”

The Doctor seemed to slump slightly, looking even more shocked. “Great… wickering… stallions.”

“What's a Clarion Call?” Ditzy asked innocently.

“Bad,” the Doctor said quietly. “As Bon Bon will tell you, if she's been in the service.”

Ditzy frowned at Bon Bon slightly. “You were in the service?”

“It's a sign of impending conflict, on a massive scale,” Bon Bon said quietly, ignoring the question and trying to quash her annoyance at the stallion for his remark. “I haven't heard anything yet - I don't know if I’ll be recalled.”

“That doesn't matter,” the Doctor put in. “What matters is… oh dear.”

“Oh dear?” Ditzy repeated.

“Yes, ‘oh dear’,” the Doctor said, turning away from them all. “This might be connected with ‘humans’. Not such a big deal my left hoof.” He sniffed. “Right then.”

He moved to the tarpaulin, staring at it for a moment.

“Are you ok?” Ditzy asked.

“I don't know,” the Doctor said quietly. “I was rather enjoying my retirement.”

“Your retirement?” Bon Bon said incredulously. “You can't be more than thirty!”

“Nearer three and a half thousand,” the Doctor said quietly. “Good guess though. Have to admit, I like this life. Not sure how I feel about risking it - but I think I feel what I usually feel.”

“What?” Bon Bon asked.

Without answering, the Doctor gripped the tarpaulin, before pulling it away, revealing a box. It was nine foot tall, bright blue, and it had a lamp on top. The entire thing was dusty, as though it had been left alone for a long time.

“What the hay?” Bon Bon asked, eyes widening in surprise.

“Hello old girl,” he said with a slight smile, reaching a hoof up to stroke the box. “It's been a long time. Maybe too long.”

“What is it?” Bon Bon asked Ditzy, still confused. “Why’s he talking to it?”

“It's his ship,” Ditzy put in, a sad look on her face. “He's told me about it before. But…”

“But nothing,” the Doctor said softly. “This is one of those moments, Ditzy.”

“What moments?” Bon Bon asked, frowning.

The Doctor turned to look at the two mares, his face full of some kind of steely resolve quite unlike anything they were familiar with from the otherwise scatterbrained stallion.

“Do or die,” he said quietly. “Damn the torpedoes, man the battlements, today is a good day to die. This is one of those moments where you have to be sure.”

Ditzy nodded. “I'm sure.”

Bon Bon frowned. “Sure about what?”

The Doctor smiled. “There's humans out there, a war brewing, and no one knows what's going on.” His smile turned into a grin. “The Doctor is in!”

***

Canterlot Throne Room.

To say that the story they had to tell was patently ridiculous, or beyond the experience of mortal ponies, Commander Charlie Horse took it rather well. He had listened patiently to Celestia and Luna’s explanation (helped by occasional interjections from Elliot), and when they had finished, he had removed his helmet, scratched his head, and finally shrugged.

“Ok,” he said. “I… think I get it. Possibly.” He paused. “Well, alright, I don't, but still.” He took a deep breath before looking at Celestia. “I’ll wager every pony in the Guard is willing to do their part, your highness.”

“You’ll be fighting ponies, ponies who may look exactly like you,” Celestia said cautiously. “This will be a task unlike any you've ever faced.”

Charlie Horse swallowed. “Well, alright, it's a difficult one. But we swore an oath, your highness - we won't back down just because the job gets difficult.”

Luna smiled slightly, giving a little nod of approval. Celestia smiled too, though there was something of a bittersweet edge to it. They both knew that this would be more than “difficult”.

“Very well, Commander,” Celestia said. “Go brief your troops. I will summon you to the assembly area shortly.”

Charlie Horse saluted, and then headed out. Elliot watched him go, before looking at Celestia with a slightly rueful smile.

“He hasn't got a clue, has he?” he said quietly.

“Many officers have only fought in border skirmishes,” Luna said quietly, “or else only engaged in the battle of Canterlot against the Changelings. Charlie Horse has the potential to become a strong officer, but he is… untested.”

“‘Untested’ isn't the same as ‘incompetent’,” Elliot said slowly, “but all the same - a more seasoned officer might have been better.”

“You will have Luna,” Celestia said quietly. “And if all I have heard is accurate, we will all be tested soon enough.”

“That's… probably true,” Elliot said quietly. “You know, you don't have to do this.”

“It's nice of you to say,” Celestia said with a slight smile, “but the truth is, yes, we do. When faced with this kind of… this kind of horror…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath. “Inaction is as bad as consent. Allowing it to take place, knowing you can stop it? No. I won't. Never again.”

Elliot nodded slowly. “Thank you, again.”

“Come,” Celestia said quietly. “We must proceed. There is still much to do.”

***

In another wing of Canterlot Palace, there was an old, somewhat battered room, which led to a courtyard. Standing in that courtyard was Discord, his eyes closed. To those who didn't know him well - which was all of the beings on this miserable planet - he might have looked like he was alone, simply standing.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

This is unwise.

The voice wasn't really ‘heard’, not in any sense a mere mortal would hear it: no mere mortal could have understood what he was doing, whom he was speaking with, and he preferred it that way.

“I told her as much. She wouldn't listen.”

He wasn't really ‘speaking’, either. These individuals wouldn't have listened to speaking as mortals understood it.

Try again.

Discord sighed. “I've been watching her for thousands of their years. She doesn't listen, not if she's already made her mind up. I could speak for another eternity about how much of a idiot she's being, and she’d just plough through anyway.”

You were meant to be an observer, not a councillor.

“Well,” Discord replied sarcastically. “That worked out really well. Look, are you going to help me or not?”

If we help you, she will interfere.

“If you don't help me, she will interfere anyway, and probably wreck something on the way!” Discord snapped. “Your help guarantees a lack of… accidents.”

You speak of the Children.

“Not just them, though I admit, they crossed my mind,” Discord said darkly. “But we all know, they're not the only things out there.”

There was a pause before the other voice replied.

Agreed. Authority is vested in you to do as necessary to assist. Keep the portal stable. We will maintain it and keep it hidden.

“Thank you,” Discord said, sighing slightly. And then he was alone.

“Were you talking to somepony?” a voice asked from behind him. He turned, to see the familiar form of Pinkie Pie frowning at him.

“None of your business,” he said irritably.

“You're being grumpy today,” Pinkie pointed out.

“Oh, why do you care?” Discord muttered.

“Because I just can’t stand seeing anyone looking so unhappy,” Pinkie said.

“Yes,” Discord sighed. “The idea of an imminent, probably pretty bad conflict does that to a lot of people.”

“You're worried about us?” Pinkie asked.

“About you? Not so much,” Discord said, waving a hand. “Don't get me wrong, you ponies are probably very nice examples of your species, but let's be honest with ourselves and say that most of you would rather I never popped up again. Permanently.”

Pinkie frowned slightly, but didn't contradict him. It wasn't that he was necessarily right… but he kind of was.

“I’m worried about Fluttershy,” Discord continued, “and I’m worried about Celestia.”

“But… she’s Celestia,” Pinkie said, cocking her head to the side almost like a dog. “She’s immortal, she can raise the sun, and I think I saw her dropkick a changeling into orbit.”

“Oh, he’s fine now,” Discord said. “Though he had some internal bleeding and seems to have developed a fear of heights.”

“I should throw him a get-well-soon party!” Pinkie crowed. “But... after yours.”

“Hm,” Discord said. “Let me tell you something, and keep this one under your proverbial hat. Celestia might be immortal - but that doesn’t make her unbreakable.”

Pinkie frowned. “Yeah, but she’s got to have seen a bunch of stuff already that’d be reaaaaaally bad, and she’s still ok.”

Discord chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, she has. I made it my business to ensure it.”

Pinkie frowned again. “Most ponies don't brag about doing bad things.”

Discord waved his dragon claw. “Draconequus. Not pony.”

“Yeah, but still,” Pinkie said. “Doing nasty things isn't something you should be proud of.”

Discord shrugged. “It's not like I did the first Discordant age for laughs. That was work.” He smirked. “The second one - or the ‘Discordant Tea Break’ as I prefer to think of it, since nopony in their right mind should consider a decade an age - that baby was pure pleasure.”

Pinkie sighed. “You know, I try to be friends with everypony, but you are very difficult to understand.”

Discord laughed. “Of course I am! I’m -”

“I mean, you just wanna do silly things all the time, and I mean all the time, so wherever you grew up must have been super boring all the time, because even I know that you've got to take some things seriously some of the time,” Pinkie said, speaking quickly. “But you said you did some of the bad stuff you did in the past because somepony told you to.”

Discord clucked his tongue. “When did I say that?”

“‘It's not like I did the first Discordant age for laughs. That was work’,” Pinkie quoted. “So somepony - or some Draconequus - makes you do some of the stuff you do.”

Discord sighed. “I shouldn't even be talking to you.”

“Then why are you?” Pinkie asked, smirking.

Discord narrowed his eyes at her. “Because I’m clearly going senile, finally. Took me a few billion years, but I finally managed it.” He sighed. “Look - what do you want?”

“You know something about all of this,” Pinkie said simply. “I just wanted to know if you could help.”

Discord shook his head. “You're getting all the help I can give.”

“Because of your bosses telling you not to?” Pinkie asked.

“That - and other reasons,” Discord said. “In any case,” the Draconequus added with a sigh. “I need to meet Celestia and co at the staging area…” he checked a wristwatch. “Five minutes ago. Tata.”

And then he was gone. Pinkie frowned. She did want to understand him, even if he was mean. There was a reason to it - maybe if she understood that reason, she could find a way to be his friend.

And since we’re going to be in a war, it's more important than ever that everypony have a friend, she thought to herself. With her goal still set in her mind, she darted off - there were always more ponies to say hi to.

***

Canterlot Staging Area, Five Minutes Ago.

The staging area was a large courtyard, into which the forces they had assembled were slowly filing, moving to stand in rows, with their spears raised to the sky. The entire force stood to attention in a great thumping clatter when Celestia, Luna and Elliot arrived.

Luna took a deep breath as she looked over the assembled group of soldiers. The armour was different, but the banners and the heraldry reminded her so much of the armies of the past, of brave ponies marching to war against the monstrous hordes Discord had summoned.

Speaking of the old Dragon Horse, he was waiting by an obsidian archway he had apparently summoned. A purple vortex, not unlike a bubbling pool suspended vertically in front of them, was floating in the archway.

“One handy-dandy interdimensional portal,” Discord said grimly, motioning to the shimmering pool of energy. “Stopping at ‘Earth being attacked by an evil Celestia’.”

“Is it stable?” Celestia asked.

“Yes,” Discord said simply. “Don't tell me you doubt my ability?”

“No, not that,” Celestia said quietly.

Discord sighed, a wry grin gracing his features. “Do you still not trust me? After all the bother you went to just to have me ‘use my powers for good’.”

“You and I were enemies for a long time, Discord,” Celestia said quietly.

“‘Were’, past tense,” Discord replied simply. “Now it's a different time - and you've got something far worse to look forward to.” He looked at Luna. “As for you, Lulu, how does it feel being in command again?”

“You ask questions you already know the answers to,” Luna said grimly. She looked to her soldiers, and a look of cold resolve settled upon her features. She looked to Charlie Horse, who was stood at the head of the group with a look of concern on his face.

“Your highness,” he said simply. “I've informed the troops of what we’ll be facing.”

“And?” Luna asked quietly.

“And… there's a bit of shock,” Charlie Horse said quietly, before his expression settled into one of pride. “But we’ll pull through. We’re the ROYAL BUCKING GUARD!”

At his bellowed cry, the ponies behind him stomped and cheered, and he drew himself up. Luna smiled and nodded once.

“Very well,” she said. She looked at the assembled force, before looking to her sister.

“Go on,” Celestia said with a smile. “These are your troops.”

Luna nodded, before turning to address the assembled soldiers, all of whom were staring at her.

“Warriors of Equestria!” she bellowed, the Royal Canterlot Voice echoing across the courtyard. “You know what we face. I do not exaggerate when I say that this foe will be one of the strongest any force assembled by this land has faced in a thousand years. You will be tested, perhaps more than any pony alive.”

There was a pause as these words sank in.

“But I have stood alongside the ponies of Equestria against things beyond imagination,” Luna continued. “I stood with the brave Thunder Crash and Nachtkrieg in the Discordant age, facing off against monsters made from the depths of hell!” Discord shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I have fought mad kings, demons, dark gods, and the ponies of Equestria have stood alongside me through all of this!” She took a deep breath. “WILL YOU STAND WITH ME NOW?!”

“AYE!” the Guardsponies called.

“We will march into the gates of Tartarus!” Luna yelled. “Against us are the hordes of hell! Do not fear them! Pity them! FOR WE COME WITH THEIR DOOM!”

“LUNA!” cried the Guardsponies.

“SIDERA SOMNIATA!” the Thestrals of the Night Guard added with a crashing of hooves.

Luna turned to Celestia and Elliot. The human was nodding slowly, a smile on his face. Celestia was smiling too.

“You have lost none of your talent for rousing the troops,” she said with a chuckle. She looked at Elliot. “How do you wish to play this?”

Elliot took a breath. “I have to go through with Luna. I have to explain to my people on the ground what's happening, who you are.” He sighed. “There’s no guarantee they'd believe me: it's a pretty far-fetched story.”

“The evidence of their own eyes won't convince them?” Celestia asked.

Elliot raised an eyebrow. “We live in a world of magical ponies, and magical humans. Nothing is what it looks like anymore. Trust me, ‘the evidence of their own eyes’ isn't going to cut it.”

“Can you convince them?” Luna asked.

Elliot sighed, running a hand through his head. “Maybe. Hopefully. I mean, I like to think I've got some pull.”

“Is being an ‘Avatar of Albion’ not enough ‘pull’ for them?” Luna asked with a frown of confusion.

Elliot chuckled. “For some people, yeah. Not everyone thinks the magical super-weapon should have a say in what he hits, though.”

“This debate aside, we are on a time limit,” Discord said with a frown. “Time is now passing completely in synchrony with your world. Every second you waste is a second that your friends can't afford.”

Elliot sighed, and turned back to Luna and Celestia.

“He's right,” he said quietly. “We don't have time to worry about things like that. When I left, things were so desperate that me leaving to try and assassinate Solamina seemed like a good idea. They won't have got better in my absence.”

Luna nodded. “You and I first, then, and then we shall send through our force.”

Elliot nodded, before looking at Discord.

“If this sends me to some universe where the sky is green or where there’s a zombie apocalypse, I will be irritated,” he said shortly.

“Don't worry,” Discord replied with a wink. “This isn't that kind of story.”

Elliot snorted, before stepping up to the portal archway, Luna at his side. He looked up at her.

“Ready?” he asked quietly.

“As one can be,” she replied quietly. “Yourself?”

“This is me going home,” Elliot said with a sigh. “Home sweet home, war and all.” He grinned. “Not even a little.”

And then he stepped through…

***

Author's Notes:

Howdy again, guys :-)

This one's been a bit slow coming, mainly so I could make sure I'm not rushing too much. This marks the last chapter of "Act I", so the next chapter will be the first of a new act, where we will see much more action :-)

In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying everything so far.

Cheers,
Jed.

Interlude: Home Front

***

“Roll up! Roll up! See the Great and Powerful Trixie first hand, as she marvels you with her magical might!”
Trixie Lulamoon, The Avatar of Albion: Tales of the War.

***

Griffonspire, The Griffon Empire. January 15th, Year 8 of the New Solaminan Calendar (2032 human calendar).

The city of Griffonspire was surprisingly open to having ponies around, a fact for which Trixie Lulamoon was incredibly grateful. The towering, gothic spires and eyries of the city, overlooking the streets with an oddly predatory air, were not pleasant for her as it was, the unpleasant attitude of the locals certainly didn’t help.

With a (horribly dirty) brown cloak draped over her body, under which was an equally dirty cloth saddlebag, she liked to think she was relatively incognito at present. The city was quiet, though - very few Griffons (or ponies) looked to be around. Not that she was entirely surprised: the war between the Solaminan Empire and the Griffon Empire had drained the Griffons of much of their economic might. That they were still holding on was a testament to their millennia-old war machine and sheer tenacity.

Trixie had only rarely ventured out as far as the Griffon Empire. She had been to Griffon-held lands of course: old provinces like Griffonstone, shared towns like Stalliongrad, or colonies like Aquila Nova, but never a city in the Empire itself. She wouldn't have been here now, except that she didn't really have a choice. Nopony did, anymore. The information - and the repeated request - she carried was too important.

“Go to the Griffons and ask them to send help,” Octavia said grimly.

Trixie frowned. “They'll say no. They always say no.”

“We can't afford to not try,” Octavia retorted. She held up a scroll. “Besides - you'll have something new to show them…”

As much as she didn't like the risks, Trixie was the only pony with the experience of travelling beyond Equestria’s borders that could be spared for the mission.

Turning down a small street labelled ‘Abe Lane’, she approached a small wooden door built into the side of one of the giant buildings. She tapped once.

“Who goes there?” a muffled voice asked.

“A journey, blue,” she replied.

There was a pause on the other side as the other voice registered the phrase. “How far have you come?”

“Through fire and water,” Trixie replied dutifully.

The door opened, and a tan Pegasus mare with a greying mane opened the door, her eyes hard. She wore a leather Griffon-issue military jerkin, and a safari hat was incongruously placed on her head.

“You're late,” Daring Do said sharply.

“You know there's a war on, right?” Trixie said with a scowl. “It's not exactly easy to get out of Equestria unnoticed.”

Daring Do harrumphed. “You'd better come in.”

Their meeting place was a small room, a wooden table at the centre. A proud looking Griffon in a leather military uniform, the symbol of one of their great houses stamped on it, was staring at Trixie with undisguised suspicion and hostility.

“My lord,” Daring Do said to him with a slight bow, “this is Trixie Lulamoon of the Equestrian Resistance.”

The Griffon looked her up and down, a disbelieving expression on his face.

“This is the fabled ringleader of the Blue Channels?” he said haughtily. “I find myself rather unimpressed.”

“And who are you?” Trixie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Greynar van Gant, son of Garth van Gant of the Sons of Aquilas,” the Griffon replied snootily. “I am here representing the Griffon Empire in our… dealings with your group.”

“Right,” Trixie said with a snort. She turned to Daring. “So - what's new?”

“Nothing good,” Daring said mournfully.

“What's ‘new’ is that we are denying your plea,” Greynar said with a scowl. “We have neither the soldiers nor the resources to spare for the humans: we are beset enough as it is without aiding a war effort across worlds.”

Trixie groaned. “You're kidding. You're bucking kidding.”

Daring Do sighed. “I was hoping to report this myself to Octi via projector. I know it's not what she wants to hear -”

“You're darn right it isn't,” Trixie said. “Especially given the news I’ve come with.”

She pulled a scroll from her saddlebag and gave it to Daring, who frowned as she opened it and read the contents.

“More moles?” she said, passing the scroll to Greynar. “What are they doing?!”

Greynar narrowed his eyes as he glanced over it. “Not just moles. Griffon and Horse prisoners, Simian political dissidents, Diamond Dogs, Changelings… quite a formidable collection of slaves they've collected at Foal Mountain.” He snorted. “This fortress she’s building must be quite something.”

“Your intelligence services still thinks she’s making a fortress?” Daring asked with a frown of disbelief.

“It's what we would do,” the Griffon replied haughtily. “The Empire’s forces have made fortresses in mountains for years. There are no sturdier places to build a stronghold: height and terrain are both on your side and -”

“Alright, fine, we get it,” Trixie interrupted with a smirk. “You've got a stiffy for forts.”

Greynar snorted and scowled at her. “Don't be so crass. Is not Canterlot built upon a mountain? It is clearly, how you say, ‘her style’. And a fortress built into a mountain, at the scale she is clearly building at, is not something to be sniffed at.”

Daring Do sighed. “You're right about that.”

“Would certainly fit her ego,” Trixie said with a shrug. “But whatever it is, you do realise it means she's just getting more powerful. It's times like this that we need to stand together with our allies, not abandon them.”

Greynar’s expression softened. “I don't wish to be insensitive to the plight of the humans. I pity them their losses, and honour them for their bravery, but they are a world away. They cannot help us, and it is doubtful we can spare the forces to help them. Homos is Equestria’s vassal, and it's conquest of Simos was complete - even now we only have a scant handful of refugees coming from there. The Qilin have spent years rebuilding since Luoyong was attacked, and Yamato is tearing itself apart. The Horses do nothing, the Moles are hiding and the Minotaurs are scattered to the winds. We are losing this war.”

“Then that's all the more reason for is to stand together,” Daring Do said. “I've been telling Emperor Gardell for years now that he needs to speak with the other kingdoms. He can’t keep fighting the empire by himself.”

“His majesty is still grief-stricken and angry,” Greynar said with a sigh. “Simply suggesting he can’t win this war with his own strength could enrage him. He won’t listen to reason and none of the dukes and princes will dare refuse him. The entire empire has been insulted by Solamina: doubly so since Abelard’s fall.”

“But - but fighting alone is suicidal!” Trixie said.

“It’s how Griffons think,” Daring Do said with a groan. “He threw me out of the palace for trying to convince him. I’ve been barred from even approaching the gates.”

Trixie sighed. “How in the name of the white horse does ‘his majesty’ think he can win alone?!”

Greynar shrugged. “He's young and hot-headed. But even were he not, we still could not help your human friends.”

Trixie sighed. “Great. Now Trixie has to walk all the way back to Equestria, and I don't even have good news to bring them.”

Greynar frowned, looking over the scroll again. “Perhaps you might have something.”

“What?” Trixie asked bitterly.

Greynar indicated the scroll. “I will bring this before the Emperor. If the Sun Alicorn is building a new fortress, a stronghold of this kind of scale, this might finally galvanise our Emperor into truly forging alliances, bringing together all who oppose the Empress - or at least, letting his Dukes offer terms to our neighbours for some sort of support.”

“How likely is that?” Daring Do asked.

Greynar smiled wryly. “Gardell is grief stricken. Not an idiot.” He paused, before looking at Trixie. “If there is any consolation to be had for your friends, Trixie Lulamoon, it is that there is hope yet that we will defeat Solamina here before the humans are wiped out.”

“I’m sure that would have made them feel better a few years ago,” Trixie said quietly. “But the way I hear it these days, they're on their last legs as is. By the time you've finished playing politics, they'll be wiped out.”

“Such is the way of things,” Greynar said with a sigh.

Daring Do shrugged, her expression empty. “Life sucks.”

Author's Notes:

Howdy readers :-) Hope you've enjoyed this little glimpse of this version of Solaminan Equus and the conflicts therein. My thanks to RoyalPsycho for helping to flesh out some of the politics stuff.

Cheers,

Jed.

The Darkest Hour

***

"I have more experience with such things than I would like."
The Doctor, The Avatar of Albion.

***

London. January 16th. 2032. 06:00.

The day for Ser Eric Smith began as it always did - he woke up in a makeshift bunk that had been crammed in a corner of the old cathedral, feeling cramped but at least a little rested. It was better than the alternative: death or worse.

He rose quickly, sitting up and stretching. He jogged on the spot briefly to loosen his limbs up, and then took a deep breath as he knelt, bowing his head in silent prayer.

Like every other day, he began with a simple prayer to whatever power was listening - a thanks for his life, for the friends he had, and a plea for his friends to be protected, even if it meant he would have to die in their stead. Today, he also prayed that his liege Lord would be returned to them safely, that Eric might have the privilege of dying alongside him when the time came.

It had been two days since Hell Blazer's report about David Elliot's decision. Eric had been angry at the yellow Convie (don't use that term, he chastised himself) for letting the Avatar go - but if it had been the Avatar's choice, then Eric would not question it. Eric was a man of duty - whether or not he agreed with the Avatar's decision or not, the man had made it, and that was all.

After all, he thought to himself wryly, without him, I would not have been granted this chance.

He quickly began strapping himself into the modified Mark I Paladin armour he had been issued almost two years ago, starting with the underlying black bodyglove.

Not for the first time, he felt grateful for having the Paladin armour. It was sturdy stuff: it made some of the more esoteric changes to his system at the hands of the scientists and magi-tech experts in Scotland easier to deal with, including the magic burnout that still plagued many of the Iron Clads (especially earlier volunteers, who had been cursed with all the faults of an imperfect, experimental process). Over the back of this armour, he slung a cloak - it was something of a ridiculous affectation, he knew, but the forces fighting under the BDF banner had long since given up any pretence of uniform. Many soldiers made customisations to their equipment that made Eric's seem positively beautiful. As it was, he had been lucky enough to have his armour subtly modified over the years, to the point that with all the improvements, it seemed more like a “one point five” armour than a strict suit of Mark I.

After he had fixed the bracing frame’s components to his body, he called two technicians forward to help fix the plates and servos to the frame. Paladin armour, for all its ingenuity, was difficult to put on and if one part was not properly fixed in place, the wearer could end up crippled for life, or dead. Thankfully, after wearing them for so long, Eric and his men were very good at making sure every single piece was where it needed to be.

Once he had finished putting on his armour, he dismissed the technicians. He checked his weapons - his sword, a blade with runic enhancement that could cover it in fire (for which it was commonly nicknamed the 'flaming bastard' sword for its hand-and-a-half design) or other energy, was polished and well-kept. He noted with a grimace that his Lance rifle's ammo was running low - the semi-automatic rifle was a specialised weapon in the hands of an Iron Clad, the kick too strong for unaugmented humans. The weapon was, perhaps, inelegant, but it worked, which was enough for him.

As he finished preparing his equipment, he saw a familiar figure trot towards him slowly - it was a red-coated stallion in a battered brown leather coat, with a white mane and beard. He had a frown on his face that seemed almost a permanent fixture, and a bandolier was slung over one shoulder, a grim reminder that this pony was a warrior.

“Ser Eric,” he intoned dolefully. “It’s good to see you.”

This was Doctor Hooves, one of the Resistance’s founders, and one of the BDF’s finest assets. Eric knew the pony wasn't exactly ‘normal’ - the face he wore was not the first face he had worn when he came from Equestria - but trusted him nonetheless.

“Doctor,” he replied with a smile. “It's good to see you. Are you holding up well?”

“As well as can be expected,” the Doctor said tiredly. He scratched his head with one hoof, looking grim. “I came with a few supplies, but I suspect that our forces here are still lacking.”

Eric pursed his lips. “You could say that. I hear that EPA is still running around punching Converted.”

The Doctor snorted. “I have, at least, managed to bring ammunition for that. Mr Kraber’s modifications are all well and good, but an EPA is not designed to…” He coughed. “Suplex Crystal Golems.”

Eric snorted. “Sounds like Kraber.” He paused. “No word yet, then?”

The Doctor shook his head without speaking. Eric cursed.

“I trust that man,” he said quietly, “but I wish he'd have taken help with him.”

“You mean you,” the Doctor said knowingly.

“I mean help,” Eric insisted. “Yes, I’d have killed to follow him, but failing that, any help’s surely better than a suicide jump to God-knows-where.”

The Doctor shrugged. “David is a resourceful man, and tenacious. Maybe he will be lucky.”

Eric sighed. “I believe in him. But all the same.” He frowned. “Hang on a mo.”

He paused, picking his helmet up before placing it on his head. The HUD started up the moment the helmet was in place. It scanned the Doctor, a little piece of text reporting that he was ‘an unknown’, before a few pieces of text info came up. K-021 and K-031 requesting backup: Point Gamma.

“I have to go,” he said quietly. “Point Gamma’s asking for backup.”

The Doctor nodded. “We shall speak later, all being well.”

“Good luck, Doc,” Eric said, hefting his gear and jogging out.

The Doctor sighed as his friend jogged out of the church. “I hate it when people call me that.”

***

Command Post Regal, Solaminan Line. 06:30.

“How long is this city going to take to fall?” Sunny Days groaned, his face set in an exasperated scowl. Despite his very bright and positive name the yellow-orange Earth Pony had made a name for himself in the regiment as a surly and unlikeable pony.

“How long have you been in the army?” the familiar gruff voice of Steadfast asked as a large brown Earth Pony walked up to him. “How many enemy strongholds fell quickly?”

“Oh don’t you start,” Sunny Days snapped.

“You’re the one who won’t stop whining about all of this,” Steadfast replied, wandering over and sitting next to his comrade. Next to him was a gold coated and red maned Unicorn named Golden Lock, who smiled brightly at Sunny Days as he sat next to him.

The both of them were sitting on the edge of the River Thames, the enemy strongholds largely situated across the city from them. They had both been here for a week now, their regiment one of several that had been re-stationed to the British Front.

The booming sound of Arc-guns went off in the distance. The massive artillery pieces had been firing for days and by this point anything in range had been flattened. Sunny Days had spent the second day of continuous bombardment saying a curse for every shot fired.

“Yeah, well, it's just bucking annoying,” Sunny Days said with a snort.

“I think it's taking longer than it should, too,” Golden Lock put in. “We should have wiped them out days ago. I thought for sure those Chosen who’d arrived would -”

He paused as Steadfast held up a hoof, before pointing behind them. Sunny turned for a moment, to see a group of ponies crossing the ruined battlefield behind them.

They were tall, regal even. They wore armour of burnished gold tinted with red, a symbol of black wings painted onto them, matching the black of their dyed wing feathers, and protruding from their skulls were horns covered in black war paint.

“Alicorns,” Sunny Days murmured with wide eyes. “Bucking hay.”

Steadfast growled. “False Alicorns.”

“Chosen,” Golden Lock corrected. “They're the chosen of Solamina.”

Steadfast snorted. “Some chosen. They're not right - Solamina’s an Alicorn by blood. They're… messed with.”

“They say Princess Cadenza was ascended,” Sunny Days put in conversationally.

“Still not the same as putting that kind of thing in a bottle,” Steadfast said grouchily. “In the day, ponies had to win wars by grit and steel - not… sorcery.”

“The Empress chose them for this,” Golden Lock rebuked mildly. “I’m sure it's perfectly safe.”

The group turned to regard the quartet of tall, almost otherworldly ponies. They carried themselves with an almost inequine poise and dignity. Many of them had seen the Empress from a distance in drills, parades or inspections at some point in their career and she had also had a grace that no regular equine could match. Though these four False Alicorns could not completely copy their Empress’ bearing they were still unnerving to look at.

“‘Safe’?” Steadfast replied, frowning. “I can believe it's approved by the Empress. I can even believe that the things are helpful. But I don't think for a bucking minute that they're ‘safe’.”

“Well I certainly appreciate having them around,” Golden Lock interjected. “Considering some of the things we’ve seen here I would rather have them on our side.”

“I’ve seen worse,” Steadfast snorted.

“Yeah, yeah we know,” Sunny Days groaned. “White Horse knows we know. You’ve never stopped telling us.” He settled down, his forelegs in front of him and his chin touching the floor. “Oh, what I’d give for a Zeppelin.”

“I hear you,” Golden Lock said, leaning on a fragment of wall. Steadfast didn't comment, simply nodding his head and also laying down beside them.

The three of them gazed over the river, looking at the centre of the human resistance. The sooner the massive, partially ruined building fell, the sooner they could leave. This war had been one of the most bizarre any of them, veteran or recruit, could remember. It had changed the world so quickly, the tactics, the weapons and the ponies, in many ways, had all changed so abruptly. None of them could possibly fathom what could come next.

***

Point Gamma. 07:15.

When he got to Point Gamma, he found that the defensive point was - in short - a mess.

As far as defensive positions went, Gamma was fairly terrible. It was a narrow street, the ramshackle ‘barricade’ that had been sat up already reduced to wreck. There were bodies all around, the usual cleanup crews overwhelmed by the sheer volume of casualties.

Apart from a handful of soldiers in bodysuits and three Resistance ponies who were sitting around, covered in dust and looking battered, there were two Iron Clads like himself, named Ser Elise McGuinness and Ser Alex Everett. McGuinness, wearing the lighter, more flexible Paladin II armour, had her inbuilt buckler deployed. She held a sword in her other hand, a shorter version of the runically enhanced sword Eric carried. Everett, meanwhile, carried a massive Hellfire Coilgun, the weapon looking bulky and ugly, but capable of tearing through almost anything brought to bear against it. His armour was battered and patched from long use - he’d been an Iron Clad long before he'd been a knight of Albion.

“Eric,” Everett said grimly. The man sounded tired - he had been through a great deal over the last few years, most notably a stint alongside a man named John Idle guarding… unpleasant things in the Scottish research compound. “Good to see you.”

“And you, Alex,” Eric replied. “Been a long night?”

Everett nodded. “Heavy Ivory Guard activity. Lots of attacks. We’ve had a time repelling them.”

“I can see,” Eric said dolefully, looking at the bodies. “Heavy casualties?”

“Usual ones,” Everett said quietly.

Eric nodded with a sigh. ‘Usual’ casualties were bad enough. He looked at Elise, who had her helmet off and was tapping a dented side.

“And you, Elise?” he asked. “How're you holding up?”

The woman shrugged, making a ‘so-so’ gesture with her hand. Eric gave her an ironic thumbs up, and she grinned, before putting her helmet back on.

Eric turned to the regular troops. “Who’s in command of this group?”

“That was Sergeant Preston, before he copped it,” one of the ponies said in what sounded like a strong cockney accent (was he from Trottingham before, Eric wondered?). He had coal-grey fur and a shaven mane, though he had a little greying goatee. “I guess I’m in charge now. Pit Miner’s me name - most everypony calls me Morris Miner, though. Dunno why.”

Eric shrugged. “Alright, Morris. Can your troops still fight?”

Morris looked at the ragged BDF soldiers doubtfully. “I ain't gonna speak for ‘em if they wanna disagree, sir, but I reckon they're knackered out.”

There was no argument from the others. Eric turned to Elise and Everett.

“Can we hold this point along?” he asked them.

“We’d need reinforcement quickly,” Everett said at once. “The Solaminan attacks have been frequent - I’d reckon another is due shortly.”

Elise just shrugged. Eric paused in thought for a moment, mulling his options over. After a moment, he turned to Morris.

“Get your people back to Point Alpha and rest up,” he said simply. “I shall call for reinforcements, and our group will hold this position until they arrive.”

Morris looked doubtful, but nodded. “If you say so, sir. Can't say I envy you that.”

He motioned to his troops, who picked their gear up wearily and began trudging back in the direction of Point Alpha.

“Are you sure we can hold this position?” Everett asked Eric quietly.

Eric turned back to Everett with a smile. “This is a narrow street - their numbers will be limited here.” He paused. “And I have faith, Ser Alex.”

Everett nodded slowly. “Faith. I… think I find that harder than I used to.” He paused. “Still no word from Point Omega?”

Eric didn't answer for a moment. He, Lyra and Hell Blazer - as well as Vinyl Scratch and Viktor Kraber - had agreed that widespread knowledge of David Elliot’s plan would not be wise. The reports available to most troops simply listed him as still missing at Point Omega, the furthest defence point.

“Nothing,” he said after a moment. “But the Avatar is such a man as cannot be slain by mere mortals.”

Everett sighed. “Unfortunately, it isn't just mere mortals we’re up against.”

Eric sighed - Everett was referring to their enemy’s more… esoteric forces. If only he'd known that Elliot might well be doing battle with worse things still.

“I fear you're right there,” Eric said. “But, nonetheless, we must have faith.”

Everett nodded slowly. “Alright. Faith it is.”

***

Point Alpha. 07:50.

Lyra sighed as she hammered a wooden board back into place at one of the windows. She found the monotonous work boring, but also surprisingly soothing for some reason. It helped to recite facts in her head as she hammered: right now she was going through Emperors of the ancient Aquilan Empire.

“Aquilus, Imperius, Gregorian,” she chanted under her breath. “Valerian, Archimedes, Severus, Uriel, Lucian, Damien, Hermes -”

“Excuse me!” a voice asked her.

Lyra paused in her work and turned to look at the speaker. It was a man in a threadbare black suit, wearing a black shirt and a red tie. He had a receding hairline, and a little arrowhead badge on his lapel.

“I was just wondering,” the man said, “if you -”

“You're a civilian refugee, yeah?” Lyra asked sharply.

The man blinked, surprised by the interruption. “I… yes.”

“Go register yourself with Danny, then he’ll give you something useful to do,” Lyra said. “I’m afraid I’m busy.”

“Actually, I wanted to know if you needed a hand,” the man said.

Lyra paused, and sighed, feeling vaguely foolish. “Yeah. A hand would be great.”

The man nodded, picking up a board and placing it against the barricade. Hefting the hammer and nails, Lyra began hammering again.

“Where was I?” she pondered aloud. “Lucian, Damien, Hermes…”

“Who are they?” the man asked conversationally.

“Aquilan Emperors,” Lyra said shortly. “The ancient Griffons had slightly more ornate naming conventions - they experienced a cultural shift afterward, when the more northerly Griffon Lords took power.”

The man nodded slowly. “Interesting.”

Lyra snorted. “I spent twenty years learning all this stuff about other cultures. Now most of them are dead or tearing themselves apart. Feels like I could have done something better with your time.”

“Well unless you're clairvoyant, I don't see how anypony could have seen this coming,” the man pointed out. “Celestia was never this kind of crazy.” She looked at him. “At least, so I’ve heard.”

Lyra smirked. “Actually, she was supposed to be nice, at least according to Twilight.” Her smirk faded. “Then Twilight turned nuts too…”

“So I hear,” the man said. “Does anyone know why?”

Lyra shrugged. “No. Not really been a priority. Surviving, that's what we’re focused on. Why can come later.”

The last nail went into the wooden board, and Lyra stepped back, an appreciative smile on her face.

“Thanks,” she said to the man. He nodded.

“Quincy Picard,” he said quietly. “If you need a name.”

Lyra frowned, wondering what that meant, but the man was already gone. Shrugging, she looked around to see if any other tasks needed doing.

“Lieutenant!” the voice of Silent Step, one of the radio operators, called.

Lyra turned to the other mare as she trotted over, a panicked expression on her face.

“What is it, Step?” Lyra said with a frown.

“We’ve had a report from Ser Eric’s team at Point Gamma!” Silent Step reported quickly.

Lyra sighed. “Saying what?”

“He's only got himself and two other Clads guarding the point!” the radio mare said with wide eyes. “He sent the rest of the team back to Alpha - said they needed rest!”

Lyra growled. “What channel is he on?”

“Six,” Silent Step replied at once.

Trotting over to Step’s radio desk, the mare in tow, Lyra grabbed a headset.

“Albion 2 to K-01?!” she barked. “Eric, respond!”

There were a few moments of tense silence, and then the radio fizzed with static.

“Lyra, good!” Eric’s voice said, sounding surprisingly optimistic given what Lyra had just been told. “Need you to dispatch reinforcements to my location, ASAP!”

“You know we don't have any troops spare!” she said angrily. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“The troops who were here couldn't have lasted any longer,” Eric said honestly. “Asking them to stay would have been a death sentence.”

“Staying on your own with only two Clads is a bucking death sentence!” Lyra retorted. She sighed. “I can try and get troops out there to you, but you'll have to hold any enemy attacks off until those reinforcements get to you!”

“We’ll do our best,” Eric said grimly. “I have faith.”

Lyra sighed. “Good for you, Eric. Just… try not to die. Lyra out.”

She signed off, and turned to Silent Step.

“I can try calling for reserves again, ma’am?” the mare suggested.

“Wouldn't work,” Lyra said quietly. “I’ll gather as many troops as I can here, try to get enough to make a difference.”

“Yes ma’am,” Silent Step said grimly. “Should also warn you - we have reports of more Guard landing in the city - we’ve lost contact with at least three teams at Points Sigma, Phi and Kappa.”

Lyra sighed. “Just… keep trying, and tell Eric help is on the way.”

“Yes ma’am, we’ll get the message to them,” Step said.

Lyra nodded and trotted off. As she did so, she passed the hunched over form of a Dead Man tinkering with a radio.

“Kraber, grab your gun,” she ordered. “You're up.”

He straightened, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Merde,” he swore, running a hand through his hair. “This fokkin’ war doesn't quit, does it?”

Lyra grinned wryly. “‘Fraid not. Now come on.”

***

Point Gamma. 09:00.

Ser Eric was standing perfectly still, head bowed and hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword, as though he was waiting. In a way, he was.

On one side of the ruined barricade, Everett was aiming his Coilgun down the street, keeping watch, while Elise was crouched behind a high pile of rubble, waiting. Both of them were preparing for an attack. Eric could hear the sound of armoured hooves marching in the distance, and he smiled behind his helmet.

“Here they come,” he said quietly. Everett nodded, and Elise gave him a thumbs up.

The first they actually saw of the Ivory Guard was a group in perfect, two by two formation marching towards them. A flag fluttered slightly, displaying a banner with the legend Imperial XXXIX Legion, V Cohort. At their head was a Unicorn with his horn glowing, a shield blocking any incoming projectiles. Their otherwise entirely alabaster armour was marked with a green pair of stripes running down the chestplate.

Not new recruits with whiteplate then, Eric thought grimly. These are experienced fighters, elites.

“How many?” Everett asked.

“Fifty, thereabouts,” Eric said after a moment’s checking, his HUD scanning the column and making the determination.

Everett nodded, and stepped out, bringing his Coilgun up. The thing hummed for a moment, and then began firing, superheated projectiles slamming into the shield with a dull thud. Eric saw the lead Unicorn tense slightly, the advance faltering.

“REINFORCE!” the stallion called. Other Unicorns moved forward, breaking formation slightly to help him, and the shield steadied.

“Keep firing, Alex,” Eric said softly.

Everett did so, his Coilgun continuing to pump projectiles out at an impressive rate. The shield began cracking slightly under the pressure. Eric motioned to Elise, who stood up, bringing a Desert Eagle out and firing at the shield as well, but still it held.

Eric growled. He activated a rune on his armour: it was designed to absorb excess magic and activate his magic-sink, making the use of his magical abilities safer (theoretically, anyway). Taking a deep breath, he raised his gauntleted left hand, and a burst of golden magic glowed and shot out, slamming into the shield and dissipating it. Eric exhaled.

The Unicorns tried raising it again, but a hail of fire from the Coilgun and Elise’s Desert Eagle quickly tore through the front ranks, preventing them from getting a stable defence up.

A cry went up from somewhere in the column. “CHARGE!”

Eric gritted his teeth. He brought his hand down, before slamming his fist into the ground, creating a shockwave that knocked a group of the oncoming ponies over as they charged. He brought his pistol out and fired, killing some of them where they lay, but their armour was tough, with strong enchantments designed to deflect attacks. Some of the others tried throwing spells at him, but the Coilgun picked them off as Everett covered his position.

Nonetheless, the enemy’s momentum carried them forward. The first pony slammed into Eric, knocking him back, but he lashed out with a punch that hit the pony’s helmet with a dull thud, the sound of cracking bones audible as the pony dropped. Another charged, and Eric grabbed the stallion by the throat, crumpling the throat armour, before throwing him into his colleagues, knocking a few over.

A spell slammed into his armoured pauldron, splashing across the rune-etched armour, leaving no damage.

“As if,” Eric muttered, turning to the stallion who had tried it. He grabbed his Lance rifle from his back and started firing at the Guards, the magically augmented rounds punching through even the elite Ivory Guard armour. He fired round after round at them, until the hammer slammed on an empty chamber.

No more ammo, he thought with a grimace. He dropped the rifle and drew his sword with a smooth motion, as a pair of Ivory Guard charged at him with their spears pointed forward at him. He parried their stabs, before bringing the sword down on one’s head, cleaving it down the middle. With a grunt of exertion he pulled his sword free, swinging downward at the other Guard and snapping the haft of his spear in two, before stabbing him.

Nearby, he saw Everett still firing his Coilgun, spells splashing around him. A concussive spell impacted near him, stunning him, and a pair of Earth Ponies rushed him. Growling, Everett lashed out with the Coilgun, knocking one back. The other pony managed to knock him into the wall of the street, but he brought the Coilgun down on the pony’s head, cracking both the pony’s neck and the gun’s casing. Dropping the useless piece of equipment, Everett drew his own sword.

Elise was happily alternating between firing her Desert Eagle and duelling Guards, her shorter sword more suited in some ways to this tight street. She ducked and weaved through the Guards, her sword slicing, her pistol finding its mark through the smallest of gaps in her enemies’ armour.

Eric parried another stab, swinging his sword around in a decapitating arc. Another Unicorn charged him, swinging a sword, and Eric blocked two of the strikes immediately, before the Unicorn managed to stab past his defence and into his right arm, causing sparks to fly from one of the servos. Reflexively, Eric dropped his sword, and the Unicorn’s horn glowed, before a shove of kinetic magic threw Eric backwards.

Eric growled, leaping back to his feet. He saw his sword lying on the ground, and advanced towards it. A Unicorn charged him, but he lashed out with his undamaged hand, sending the thing’s neck into an impossible angle. His rolled his right shoulder, feeling auto repair functions try to reroute through another servo, and with a grin he raised his right hand, another glow of magic sending a blast that vaporised an Earth Pony’s head. Another spell splashed on his left pauldron, and he felt the metal buckle.

“Eric!” Everett called out, and Eric turned to see his comrade throw his sword at him. Reaching out, Eric grabbed the weapon and activated its flame rune, causing the length of the blade to begin glowing with fiery energy. He grinned beneath his helmet and lashed out, carving through first one pony, then another. He reached his own sword and grabbed it, activating its electricity rune, and the sword began crackling with blue energy. With a flourish, he charged into another Unicorn, decapitating the stallion with a slash, before his fiery sword embedded itself in a mare’s shoulder.

He heard Everett grunting with effort. Turned his head a fraction to see his comrade’s right arm being sliced clean off by a Unicorn sword. He saw Elise charging in, cutting the Unicorn mare down in an instant, but Everett’s injury was still severe, even in the suit would try to auto-compress it.

He spun his swords in his hands, facing the remaining enemy alone. Another group was approaching - another fifty or sixty, his HUD helpfully informed him, from their armour part of the same Cohort - and Eric breathed in, readying himself.

And then a cry came from behind him.

“Come on, maaifoedies!”

A man in a black trenchcoat belted forward, a battered MG3 in his hands, blazing away. Behind him came a group of battered BDF soldiers, their guns firing as they moved to take up defensive positions. A few ponies were with them, a P220 minigun team setting up near the barricades.

Something flew overhead, and Eric saw a man in what looked like modified Paladin armour, a metal quarterstaff in hand, land amongst the Guards, clearing a space. He held up a hand as spells flew in his direction, only for a mint-green shield to block them as Lyra dashed forward, a long dagger held in her magical grip, slicing hither and thither.

Eric grinned, hacking through another Earth Pony that tried to attack him. He had known he could count on Lyra.

Spells flew back at the reinforcements, a couple of BDF troops falling with holes charred through them, but the influx of reserves had clearly broken the assault’s momentum.

At the rear of the Solaminan formation, a cry went up. “PULL BACK TO THE RALLY POINT!!”

And like the well-crafted war-machine they were, the Solaminan forces pulled back, hooves traipsing in unison even as they took fire, Unicorns putting shields up to take the worst of it.

The immediate threat defeated, Eric pulled his helmet off and took a deep breath, relishing the non-filtered air. With a frown, he strode over to Everett, kneeling by his injured comrade.

“Alex?” he asked softly.

Everett pulled his helmet off with his one hand, grimacing in pain, his skin ashen. “I’m alright, Eric. Just… bit woozy. Meds are pissin’ with my brain.”

Eric sighed. “Look after him Elise.”

Elise gave a thumbs up, nodding. Eric turned, and walked past the barricade. Kraber was checking his weapon over with a frown, the old LMG looking as though something had come loose. The armoured man with the quarterstaff was walking back to the barricades, taking his helmet off as he did so, revealing dark skin and a shaved head. He threw Eric a salute.

“X-09, Greg Nox,” he said chirpily, holding out his hand.

“The Aeronaut, yeah,” Eric replied, clasping the man’s hand. “Eric Smith.”

“The first Knight of Albion, I know,” Nox said cheerfully, grinning. “You're something of a legend. Nice holding.”

“We did our best,” Eric said amiably. He noticed Lyra trotting towards him, her expression thunderous. “Excuse me.”

Nox nodded and walked off, as Lyra reached Eric.

“You're an idiot,” she said without preamble.

“I held, didn't I?” Eric retorted.

“Barely, and not for long,” Lyra said. “There were troops here! You didn't need to dismiss them!”

“If I’d let them stay, they'd all be dead,” Eric said quietly. “I couldn't let that happen.”

Lyra scowled. “White Horse’s manure, you are a moron sometimes, Eric Smith! We are always going to lose people, but now you've forced me to pull a bunch of troops from Alpha’s defence -”

“Lyra!” Eric cut her off, holding up a hand. “I know. And I’m sorry. But you and I know he’d make the same call.”

Lyra’s scowl deepened. “Don't remind me.” She took a deep breath. “You're as bad as each other, you idealistic pair of idiots.”

“He told me you were idealistic once, too,” Eric said with a smirk.

Lyra didn't reply. She sighed, slumping onto the floor. Eric sat next to her, a little awkwardly given the armour.

“I wish he was here,” she said quietly. “Even before the whole ‘Avatar’ thing, him being around made me feel better.”

“I know what you mean,” Eric said. “He's such a strong presence…”

“Not just that,” Lyra said softly. “I…” She trailed off, and signed again. “Come on. We need to prepare for the next assault - they’ll be rallying as we speak.”

Eric nodded, and stood up.

The day had only just begun.

***

Point Alpha. 10:00.

The Doctor grimaced as he helped another pony stand up, the injured stallion nodding gratefully as he trotted over to a makeshift medical bay. The old pony shook his head - there was so much to do, and so little time. He smirked mirthlessly at the irony of that - no time, and he, a Time -

Before he could finish the thought, a flare of light erupted in the middle of the room, solidifying into a solid, two dimensional portal, not unlike a pool of water - if a pool of water could be suspended vertically. The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock.

Several troops immediately aimed their rifles at it, panic-stricken looks on their faces.

“Portal attack!” someone cried. “Ready yourselves!”

“Motherfucker!” Vinyl Scratch sword, her horn glowing as she readied some spell - it was impossible to tell whether it was defensive or offensive, but knowing Vinyl, it was probably the latter.

The portal stayed stable for a long moment, no sign of anything coming through. The Doctor took a small silver device from his bandolier and pointed it, a red light buzzing. He glanced at the device as though looking at readings, and frowned.

“It's got a different quantum signature,” he declared.

There was a momentary pause.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Vinyl asked.

The Doctor clucked his tongue. “It isn't coming from Equestria. Or at least, not your Equestria.”

This was met with more silence, as the soldiers surrounding the portal gave each other uncertain looks. Before they could say anything else, though, a pair of figures began to emerge from the portal. The soldiers raised their weapons again - and then lowered them from shock.

A pale, dark haired man in a battered shirt, trousers and boots was standing there, a slight smirk on his face. Next to him was a midnight-blue Alicorn in purple and black armour, a sword girt at her side - impossibly, she seemed to be Princess Luna.

“Uh, hi everyone,” David Elliot said with an awkward wave. “I’m… well, I’m back. And I brought a friend.”

***

Aid From Afar

***

We are a band of heroes, united in common cause. And live or die, we do so as heroes.
The Avatar, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Point Alpha. 10:07.

There was a momentary shocked silence as Elliot’s words sank home. None of the troops were quite certain how to react - some of them looked relieved, and others looked suspicious. A few even aimed their guns hesitantly at him.

Elliot looked at the Doctor, who was scanning him.

“Is that you, David?” the Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes at the man.

Elliot, for his part, rubbed the back of his head with a wry expression on his face. “Biologically? Yup. Philosophically? Possibly. Theologically? Not touching that.”

The Doctor frowned. A few troops chuckled, but most remained uncertain.

“I can try proving it,” Elliot said. He motioned to a few men and women in patchwork plate armour, standing at the back of the room, staring at him with a mixture of relief and suspicion. “The Knights over there will know if this is really Albion doing this.”

A moment later, he held both arms out slightly, and there was suddenly a flare of light as he began glowing, white light flaring from his body. The Knights of Albion drew their swords and knelt at once, and the Doctor looked from them to him, raising an eyebrow.

“That would be a yes, then,” he said.

“Hello again, Doctor,” Elliot said quietly, smiling at him. “I’d ask how things have gone, but I guess the answer’s pretty obvious.”

“I suspect so,” the Doctor said. He looked at the Alicorn mare with a raised eyebrow. “And I believe this is…”

“Princess Luna, Diarch of Equestria,” the mare said serenely. “Here as representative of Equestria, and Commander of your reinforcements.”

“Horse shit!” Vinyl Scratch yelled out. At Luna’s questioning gaze, she faltered slightly. “Uh… I mean… ‘horsefeathers, your highness’?”

“I get it's hard to believe,” Elliot said, holding up a hand, “but it's true. Luna is here as a representative of… well, another Equestria. One that didn't turn into the Solaminan Empire.”

“Parallel Universes,” the Doctor said softly. “Yes, of course, that makes sense.”

“It does?” Vinyl asked with a raised eyebrow

“Yes,” the Doctor said, glancing at her. “The quantum signature of both this portal and the Princess you've brought with you seem to be different to that of the Solaminan portals we’ve encountered, or the residents and former residents of the Empire.”

Vinyl blinked. “Uh…”

“In layman’s terms, she's from a different world because different worlds have different energy,” the Doctor said irritably. Vinyl nodded slowly - it didn't seem like she understood it any better, but at least she wasn't arguing with him.

“So… she’s telling the truth?” someone else asked.

“That would seem to be the case,” the Doctor said with a raised eyebrow. “Well, now. I believe there must be quite the story to tell.”

“Maybe,” Elliot agreed, “but not right now. We’ve a battle to win.” He paused. “Where's Hell Blazer?”

“Attempting to cast defensive spells,” the Doctor replied. “He said not to interrupt him.” There was a pause. “With more swear words.”

“Sounds about right,” Elliot said quietly. “And Lyra?”

The Doctor paused for a moment. “Ser Eric needed support at Point Gamma. If I am not mistaken, I believe the enemy are likely testing it as a weaker defensive position.”

Elliot nodded slowly. “Your instincts are usually right about this.” He turned to Luna. “Let them know it's safe to start sending them through.”

Luna nodded, and headed back for the portal.

“That what's safe?” Vinyl asked, sounding somewhere between confused and irritated. “Safe for who?”

“That it's safe to send those reinforcements she mentioned,” Elliot replied with a wry grin.

“Reinforcements?!” someone else repeated.

“Oh yeah,” Elliot said, his grin widening. “We’re about to get help, guys.”

***

Canterlot Staging Area. May 7th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Celestia tensed slightly as Luna returned, an expression of determination on her face.

“Howdy Lulu,” Discord said, saluting Luna ironically.

“Sister,” the Lunar Diarch said quickly, ignoring the Draconequus, “we have made contact with Elliot’s forced.”

Celestia nodded warily. “Is it going well?”

“We’re ready to have the troops send through,” Luna confirmed, and Celestia smiled at that. “I… believe it will go well.”

Celestia’s smile faded slightly. “You believe?”

Luna sighed. “It is… very early, far too much so to tell exactly how things shall progress - just know that we can send the forces through with no fear of them being attacked, though I would have Discord make a separate portal for the Starlit towers, we’re currently inside a building.”

“I’ll send them directly,” Discord said with a nod, looking mildly irritated to be spoken of as though he were not there.

Luna nodded gratefully. “I must return - I suspect there is much to do.”

She turned and headed back through the portal quickly. Celestia sighed, hoping things would turn out well, and motioned to Charlie Horse, who trotted forward to her.

“Your highness?” he asked, looking concerned and determined all at once.

“Form ranks for infantry deployment, Commander,” she said grimly, looking down at him. “You're moving out.”

***

Point Alpha. 10:11.

When Luna returned, she found Elliot in conversation with several individuals. One was the old stallion in his leather coat, while another was a dark haired man in a brown cloak, wearing pieces of what could only have been battered plate armour: one of the ‘Knights’ Elliot had mentioned.

Another was a grey-haired human in bulky black combat armour, carrying a bulky weapon Luna could only assume was one of the human projectile weapons (“guns”) Elliot had told her about. He had a grim expression, and glanced at Luna with outright suspicion.

Elliot turned to look at her as she approached. “All good?”

“Yes,” Luna replied with a nod. “The troops will be coming shortly.”

“Good to hear,” Elliot said with a smile. He turned to the group. “Right - you lot are in charge of helping to deploy the Equestrian reinforcements to the various defensive points.”

“There will be… difficulties,” the plate-armoured human said.

“I know, Jared,” Elliot replied. “Which is why you will make sure that Knights of Albion are deployed with them to reassure people that these guys are on our side.”

The human - Jared - nodded and turned away, striding to a group of similarly attired people. Elliot turned to the grey-haired human.

“I can rely on your skills with regards to holding the line, right, Joe?” he asked quietly.

“Always,” the man replied. He looked at Luna. “Are you sure we can trust them, sir?”

Elliot nodded once. “Yes. I am. I wouldn't have brought her here if I wasn't sure.”

The old man sighed. “Yes, sir. I’ll trust you on this one.”

Elliot slapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.” He turned to Luna. “Point Gamma isn't far. We can get there soon if we start now. If what the Doctor says is right, they'll need our help.”

Luna nodded. “Lead the way.”

Elliot nodded and headed off, Luna following, sword drawn.

“You have no weapons,” she pointed out to Elliot as he strode ahead of her.

He looked down at himself. “I also have no jacket - they must've been left in that clearing in the forest. Not that it matters.”

“But - how will you fight?” Luna asked.

Elliot glanced back at her with a wry grin. “I’ll think of something.”

***

Point Gamma. 10:30.

Lyra raised a shield as a hail of spells flew towards their position. Another group of Ivory Guards had begun an attack on Point Gamma, marching in unison: some wore the green-decorated armour of the last group, and others wore armour with red hoofprints. Most, however, were wearing undecorated white armour - they were new recruits, derogatorily referred to as “whiteplate” by their colleagues. They, unfortunately, were only a little less dangerous than their more experienced colleagues.

Lyra grimaced with the effort of holding the spell in place as the enemy Unicorns rained heir spells at her - she’d become adept at shields that hardened as they got hit, but softened when they weren't. Still, she couldn't hold for long.

“Albion 2 to Red Leader, now!” she yelled into her microphone.

Somewhere above her, she heard the faint whoosh of Pegasus wings flapping as Resistance Pegasi flew overhead. A few fell, spells striking them from the sky, but most managed to drop their payload of C4, explosions scattering dozens of approaching Ivory Guard. Nonetheless, they continued their advance with dogged determination, shields raised in a latticework structure designed to block most assault.

Eric and a few other soldiers were firing on the approaching column, Eric holding a bolt-action rifle scavenged from a fallen soldier. With a grimace, he fired another round, and then placed the now-empty weapon on the ground, drawing his sword.

“Ready for close!” he called as the Guard approached. Around him, the other soldiers drew bayonets and other makeshift close-assault weapons.

The Ivory Guardsponies continued their advance, shields glowing around them, until at last they were within a few metres of the BDF line.

Finally, a cry went up; “SPEARS DOWN! BREAK RANKS! CHARGE!”

The Ivory Guardsponies lowered their weapons and broke their ranks, their shields expanding out towards the BDF positions in mini-shockwaves that smashed barricades and knocked troops back, only for the Ivory Guardsponies to jump them and stab them where they lay. The Unicorns who had previously been generating the shields switched to ranged combat, firing waves of concussive spells into the rear of Lyra’s group. Men were knocked over by concussive spellfire that threw them to the ground. Eric growled and took a shockwave on the shoulder, before charging into the enemy as they reached him. He barrelled one Earth Pony to the ground, and stomped on their helmeted head, crumpling it with a sick crunch. He drew his sword, decapitating another pony with a swift slice, before hacking through a Unicorn’s shoulder.

Nearby, Lyra swept her dagger out, stabbing one Unicorn through her faceplate’s eyehole. She sent a spell into an Earth Pony, blasting them off their feet, and then turned, bucking another to the ground before stabbing them in the throat. Breathing heavily, she created a shockwave that sent a few more flying.

Nearby, Kraber was firing his LMG, before the thing jammed. With a growl, he dropped the weapon, pulling a heavy pistol out and shooting first one pony, then another, and then a third. Another charged him, but he took the tackle like a pro, grabbing the pony around the waist and lifting him up, before throwing him at another pony with a heave of effort. A spell impacted near his feet, and with a roll he grabbed a fallen soldier’s SPAS-style shotgun and fired it point blank into another pony’s head, obliterating it, helmet and all.

“Fok off!” he swore. “If your fokkin’ kont of an Empress wants me that badly, she’ll have to fokkin’ send bigger than you varknaaiers!”

He shot another pony as he yelled, and a couple of other troops ran up to join him, creating a mini-line of fire that forced a few of the approaching Ivory Guard into cover.

“Kraber, get back into cover!” Lyra yelled angrily. She sent a concussive spell in the direction of the approaching column that blasted dirt and rubble into the sky. “What the hell are you thinking?!”

“I’m dead already, Lieutenant,” the Afrikaner replied with a chuckle. “These little Kontgesigs just haven't got the balls to convince my body of that.”

“Well, don't tempt fate,” Lyra snorted. “We still need your body.”

“Mmmmmgo on….” Kraber chuckled, and Lyra blushed.

“Not like that!”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant,” Kraber said. He racked the shotgun, and fired again, blasting another charging Unicorn off of his feet.

Lyra groaned and turned, raising another shield that caught a few spells before they impacted. She pushed outward again, a shockwave knocking a good three or four ponies over. She saw Eric, his sword burning, as he cut through pony after pony, and she found herself grateful that she had him here: Iron Clads were already formidable troops, and Eric had always been one of the best. She grimaced slightly as another concussive spell hit near her, sending more debris everywhere.

At the rear of the enemy formation, she could see more Ivory Guardsponies, another group coming to back this one up. Nearby, she saw Gregory Nox, the Aeronaut, block a spear thrust and club his attacker to the floor, only for a spell to throw him backwards into a wall, where he stirred feebly. Nearby, she saw a soldier impaled on a spear fall, as the Ivory Guardsponies spilled over the barricade, only for her troops to engage them.

She groaned: with no reinforcements and her numbers thinning here, she didn't see a way she could hold the line. She opened her mouth, ready to call for the retreat -

- and then a midnight blue blue landed amongst the oncoming ponies, creating a shockwave that blasted a good two dozen away, throwing the hapless Guardsponies into walls and across the street, scattered like bowling pins.

Lyra’s eyes widened as she saw who was responsible for what she’d just seen. The midnight blue Alicorn glanced her way, narrowed her eyes slightly, and then with a flash returned to the fray, carving through Guardsponies as she did so.

“The fok?” Kraber said. “That - isn't that a -?”

“Luna!” a Resistance pony yelled. “Princess Luna has returned!”

“Luna!” another yelled. “Luna!”

Lyra had no words. Princess Luna was dead, wasn't she? She'd been dead for years - there was no way -

A concussive spell went off near her head. She grimaced - more Guardsponies were coming - and these ones were backed by Crystal Golems. They were constructed - or grown, either term worked - out of misty pink and white crystals, that had been grown, shaped and carved into various geometric shapes. These shapes had then been fused together to form hulking bodies - one looked like a giant Earth Pony, roughly hoof-like constructs smashing into the ruined ground as it walked. The other looked like a Minotaur, a giant club in its crystal hand - or possible fused to its hand, it was hard to tell. Both of them shimmered with ethereal light that seemed to come from within their opaque forms, and the ground was shaking under their heavy footfalls. A few BDF troops paused - not even Luna’s presence seemed to cheer them. Crystal Golems were deadly.

The Minotaur shaped one growled, barrelling towards the lines.

“Coilgun!” Lyra yelled, and Eric grabbed the discarded, battered Coilgun that Alex Everett had used, bringing it up and firing. The shots rammed into the Golem, blasting chunks out of it, but still it advanced, the damaged sections regrowing.

“Where's the handler?!” Eric yelled.

“It doesn't have one!” Lyra called back. “Thing must have an auto-repair spell!”

The thing kept barrelling at them, and Lyra tensed, preparing to dodge - but then a figure swept in, charging at it, and with a mighty crack the Golem was forced backwards, a flash of light flaring out. Lyra blinked, shocked, as she realised who the flash of light had been.

David Elliot was standing in front of the barricades. His dark hair was blowing in the backdraft of his own fast movement, and his hands were glowing with golden energy.

“Albion,” Eric murmured from near Lyra. “Albion is here!”

“Albion!” other troops called out.

“David!” Lyra yelled.

The man ignored all of the cries, focusing on the golem. Behind it, he could see Luna, still dealing with the majority of the Ivory Guard, but more would come and quickly. He held out a hand, a glow beginning to envelop his body -

And then with a flash of light, the battered form of David Elliot was replaced by the Avatar of Albion. The longsword Excalibur extended from his hands, its name etched into the blade in gold and a ruby set into the hilt. His body was covered by beautifully ornate silver armour, and a hooded burgundy cloak flew about his shoulders.

“Servants of the enemy,” this being intoned, bringing his sword forward in challenge, “stand down or be destroyed.”

The minotaur construct let out an inhuman, echoing noise, and charged straight at him. He tensed slightly as it swung at him, and then leapt upwards, above the horizontal swing. He landed behind it, bringing Excalibur up in a swing that carved through crystal and made the thing roar in irritation. It turned and brought its club down on him, but he blocked the blow easily, and then with a sudden riposte he removed the thing’s arm: one minute it was attached, and the next it landed on the ground, useless. It roared, and he grimaced as it lashed out again, forcing him to block.

Behind him, the pony-shaped golem charged, heading straight for him. He seemed to notice this, and shoved backward at the giant Minotaur construct, before leaping again, leaving the pony-construct to ram into the Minotaur and knock it to the ground. Stunned, the pony-construct could do nothing as he landed gracefully stop it, stabbing down into its crystal skull and splitting it in two down the middle.

The pony-construct slowly slumped to the floor, all control terminated. The armoured figure returned his attention to the minotaur golem. In three swift moves he removed the creature’s remaining arm, then brought it to its knees, before removing its head. The pieces trembled for a moment, as though trying to self-repair, and then they stilled.

The Avatar looked up at Lyra with a wry grin.

“Lyra,” he said, almost conversational. “It is good to see you well.”

Lyra didn't know how to react. She had begun conditioning herself to the fact that Elliot might well be dead, and yet, here he was.

“‘You'll think of something’,” the Alicorn - the mare who couldn’t have been Princess Luna - called to the Avatar, trotting up from the lines, where she had apparently forced the enemy into retreat. “I see what you meant.”

The Avatar only shrugged. “I was not, strictly speaking, inaccurate.”

The Alicorn - it can’t be Luna - shook her head slightly, a smile of her own gracing her features. She looked at Lyra.

“Greetings,” she said. “I am Sidera Somniata Luna, Princess of Equestria and commander of your reinforcements.”

“Re-reinforcements,” Lyra repeated, her jaw working spasmodically. “I… what?!”

“Fear not, Lyra,” the Avatar said. “This is no trick. Should we survive this day, our fortunes will have finally turned in this war.”

Lyra could say nothing, so busy was she looking at a man she thought was dead, and a mare she knew was dead. Finally, her mouth opened.

“What the bucking hell.”

***

Point Alpha. 11:40.

A column of Royal Guards were marching into a small confined space. True Grit, his horn glowing as he helped lift the giant shield, was not a fan of this. His armour felt ten tons heavier than it ought to have, straining under the weight of the shield, and the air was hot and sweaty. Ahead of him, he heard Steady Hoof straining with the weight of the shield as well, the Earth Pony forced to simply hold it on his back.

The shields were reinforced both by metal and magic - they were about two and a half feet wide and six feet high, designed to block attacks by enemies rather than be any use as portable defenses, and the extra weight made them more useful, even if they were a pain in the flank to carry. Against a lot of contemporary enemies, Shieldbearers had largely become useless, or at least that was what True Grit had learned during his crash course in their operation. Griffons could fly over them, and Minotaurs were taller than them. Qilin could be stopped by them, until they started using climber tactics, and Moles just undermined. Nonetheless, against ponies, they were expected to be at least moderately useful - at least until new devices could be constructed and brought to bear.

It was bad enough carrying these shields through the streets of Canterlot, from the barracks to the palace courtyard. The portal itself… that had been a different matter.

“Y’alright, Grit?” Steady Hoof asked.

Was he? Going through the portal…

Like stepping through water - the cool liquid brushing over his fur and yet leaving him dry. He felt strange, for just a moment, and then he found himself somewhere else entirely…

“Yeah,” Grit replied. “You?”

“Yeah,” his friend said breathlessly. “This thing’s buckin’ heavy.”

“I hear that,” Grit said with a wry grin. He strained his neck slightly to see what they were marching into.

He could see Commander Charlie Horse, talking with something that might have been one of these humans he’d heard about. The thing was tall, wearing what might have been black combat armour of a material that Grit had never seen. A pony in a leather jacket of some kind was standing next to him, looking tired.

“Looks like they might be discussing movement,” Hoof said from in front of him. “Wonder what we’ll be fighting.”

“Ponies,” Grit said quietly. “Past that, Celestia knows.”

“I wonder if she does,” Hoof said with a sigh.

As he said it, Charlie Horse turned away from the human and the leather-coated pony, and turned to address his troops.

“Alright, troops!” he called. “Troops from the First Regiment! I want Cohort One and the Shieldbearers to increase the fortification of the area around this building, along with Marksponies from First and Second Cohort! Fifth Regiment! Sternguard and Hornburg, take troops from Third and Fourth Cohort and reinforce the outer positions…!”

True Grit tuned out his voice as he began hefting the shield to the door, Steady Hoof with him. A large doorway opened, and a moment later, True Grit was outside…

… and he had stepped into hell.

Weary looking ponies and more of these humans were manning ramshackle, battered barricades. Metal constructs not unlike broken carts were lining the streets, which were themselves made of stone and what might have been some other material - marble? Sandstone?

The sky was burning - smoke and the orange tint of fire was in the sky, giving the vague impression of having stepped into Dantneigh’s idea of the Underworld.

At the direction of their Cohort leaders, ponies began ramming their shields into position, the six-foot shields plugging gaps in the barricade. Stronghoof was pointing at gaps, and shouting orders.

“What the buck happened here?” Steady Hoof said quietly, his eyes wide and full of shock.

True Grit had no answer for him.

***

Command Post Regal, Solaminan Line. 12:05.

At CP Regal, a gathering was taking place. All of those present were tall, willowy pony figures, winged, with horns emerging elegantly from their skulls. They wore universally blood red armour, covered in black embossed wing designs that matched the war paint on their horns and wings.

These were the “Chosen”, brought closer to the light of their beautiful mistress: some called them False Alicorns, and neither moniker was entirely inaccurate. They were not true ascended - by magical means and the will of their goddess, they had been forcibly lifted to the plane of Godhood. They were a sisterhood of the chosen few, those who served their Goddess in their entirety, whose very beings were dedicated to her will. Their lives were forever bound to service - there could be no other life. Still: they were the closest the average pony of the Solaminan Empire could get to goddesshood, and Solaminan Church decree had declared them alicorns with the blessing of Solamina herself. The chosen instruments of Solamina, to bring righteous fury down on the heads of those who would defy or subvert the Empress’ will.

The regal Chaplain Lemartia was the leader of this group: a circlet of gold sat upon her alabaster brow, the symbol of the Imperial Star placed within it. Her eyes were cold blue, glancing hither and thither between two of her kindred, Sisters Avelina and Aurelia. Her expression was stern and judging.

“The word?” she asked quietly, her voice betraying the barest hint of an Appleoosan accent. Such… attachments were often hammered out from the Chosen, like impurities in a blade of Aurichalcum.

“Sister Seraphia is taken with the madness,” Avelina reported quietly, bowing her head. “She begs you see her through.”

“Is this so?” Lemartia asked Aurelia, who bowed too.

“Yes, sister-Chaplain,” Aurelia said quietly. “It will be soon.”

“The ‘madness’,” Lemartia said, snorting slightly. “Bring the chosen to me.”

Aurelia bowed again, and turned away. A moment later, she returned, a cloaked and hooded sister with her. The hooded sister was shaking, and sparks of light could be seen beneath the hood, illuminating a bloodstained suit of armour adorning a fire-orange mare. Lemartia nodded slowly.

“I see it is so,” she said quietly. “Very well. We will begin.”

***

…STOPTHENOISESTOPTHENOISESTOPTHENOISE…

There was noise and blood. Noise and blood. The smell of that stinking

is this me

oil. The blood of friends of a hundred battles on her armour, stinking bodies festering, burnt fur, burnt feathers, armour rent, pain, stinking, the smell would never come off, blood, fire, smoke, blood, fire, smoke…

“Sister?”

is this me

A voice spoke to her. The word ‘Sister’ touched her mind.

Sister. I am Seraphia. I am a Chosen of the Empress.

“Sister, are you listening?”

I am Seraphia.

“Yes,” she forced herself to speak, her own voice sounding strange in her ears.

“Listen.”

Blood and fire and blood and fire and -

“You know what happens. You know what you are experiencing. Focus on what you are.”

She could feel it. The Change. The fear and secret hope - the ascension, the moment where we become as our Goddess, the terror of not knowing whether she would emerge, renewed, reborn, Ascended…

“What is your name?”

Seraphia.

She couldn't speak. The noise and the fire, bodies and the stink, flies buzzing, buzzing, duty first, EMPRESS AND COUNTRY AND THERE WILL BE NO -

The Change was upon her. Her mind was clouded, like a thousand images flashed before her eyes at once.

BLOOD AND FIRE AND BLOOD AND FIRE AND -

“What is your name?!”

“Seraphia.”

“The madness will claim you. You know that.”

Oh yes. She had spoken of it often - how she felt the burdens of this war, how she feared falling - why did she fear it? - and how she knew it was inevitable. She had been Marked.

“I know.”

“Channel it. What has brought this?”

The then became the now.

Why wouldn't they just stop fighting?

“Stop!” she yelled instinctively at nothing. “Stop fighting! Let us help you build a new world! Why won't you -?!”

“Sister, focus!”

She tried. She tried to make then then and now now, but now and then blurred until neither was the other and both were one and all merged into a haze of blood and fire, blood and fire, BLOOD AND FIRE -

Solamina: Empress, Goddess, Mother, Sister -

“Sister!” the voice called to her from the world beyond the voices raging in her mind. “Sister!”

She could feel the burning within her body. Power tore at her, like she had not felt in a thousand battles. Her mind drifted, beyond the confines of flesh, beyond into memory…

I am a warrior, I think. I am -

A dead Griffon child lies at my feet, an outlying village burns in the distance, a banner flutters in the wind, an arrow is lodged in my side, my armour is rent, my blood is spilling on the floor, the eye is staring at me accusingly.

A griffon warrior, stripped of his armour and his sword, spits on the ground. There is a flinty look in his eyes. A smirk. As if he knows what’s coming and it couldn’t matter to him at all, and that incenses me more than anything somehow. He knows I am beyond hope -

-beyond hopes of the heights any pony could aspire to. What must be done - what we were born to be

Why? Why did they fight? They must have seen, must have known it was hopeless, as a GODDESS AMONG THE LIVING STRODE THE FIELD WITH A HOST AT HER BACK -

Then why did we kill them?

They were our enemy and we will kill them all.

What made them that?

It doesn't matter: we were strong. They were weak

Who was right?

You survived. You were stronger. That makes you right.

The blood is spilling, and my sisters are dead around me, and we are in a city, another banner flying from a tower. Griffon artillery booms and thunders in the distance. I am bleeding. I am about to die. But I do not die. I live. I am a god.

“Sister!” The voice was stern, distant but close. “What are you?!”

I was a filly once - but the filly and her home fell to the ground on wax wings. Burning, burning, and clouds melted to vapour and disappeared, and nothing was left. She was alone, but she survived. She had nothing. And she fell, then rose when the bright orange liquid melted her and revealed my horn and my wings, and the face of a new life - I rose, I flew and I danced among the skies and I knew then and I know now -

She forced herself past the noise. The Change was coming, as fearful as the tsunami, as fiery and tumultuous as the breaking of the world, and it hurt like dying, but it felt like living - it was orgasm and it was birth and death and -

I am not Seraphia.

“I… am… a weapon… the Wings of Solamina… to rule the sky…” she hissed, her voice warping. “I… I am… death to my enemy. Death to my enemy! Death to my enemy! DEATH TO MY ENEMY!”

And a flare of light exploded in her heart.

***

To an outsider, the cloaked figure whispered to the Chaplain, sparks flying from within her cloak. The sparks became a glow, sickly light emanating. The False Alicorns surrounding the figure stepped back, save Lemartia, who raised her head and spoke again.

And then the light flared, erupting into what might have been a star itself fallen to Earth. The cloak incinerated in a flash flame. The False Alicorns raised a shield that surrounded them and flared against that light as though the fires of hell burned against them. Unnatural flames washed over the shimmering skin of their shield, flowing like oil on water. For an instant Lemartia swore the fire was caressing the shield, as if tendrils of flame were attempting to penetrate the protective field and reach for them.

And then it faded - and there she was.

Where a fire-orange Alicorn had once stood, now a mare of deepest, bloodiest scarlet was floating, an ethereal mane that shifted and writhed like a wispish cloud of blood on water flowing from her head. Her body was adorned with twisted black armour and jagged wings burst from her back, blood red feathers reaching out as she flared her impressive wingspan. A mouth pulled back to reveal jagged teeth, and eyes opened to reveal slit pupils of burning orange swimming in a sea of the deepest black.

“Sister,” Lemartia said quietly. “Name thyself.”

The jagged toothed mouth grinned, the lips pulling back slowly to reveal more of the unsettlingly predatory fangs. The eyes narrowed. A voice like razors scratching the inside of a metal chasm spoke.

“I am Cherubael. I am here to kill.”

***

Trial by Fire

***

"In the words of the man Elliot's generation, come at me!"
The Avatar, The Avatar of Albion.

***

London. January 16th. 2032.

Command Post Regal. 12:15.

Hooves pounded on the splintered concrete of the streets as pony regiments marched towards the battle. Once again the offensive had been renewed and thousands of ponies were being redeployed. Arcguns boomed in the distance as the magical artillery at CP Majestic increased their bombardment. The Ivory Guard intended to shatter their enemy’s fortifications, and once that was done then they would overrun their disoriented forces.

The ground shook as Earthbreaker rounds burrowed into concrete and earth and threw it back up again. Even from the Command Post the tremors could be felt by those who waited for their own orders.

Lemartia held herself steady with a dignity and poise that was almost second nature to her. Her sisters, many of them shaken by Seraphia’s fall from grace, stood beside her. She felt for them - still young, many of them new recruits as yet untested. It was upon their shoulders that the greatest burdens of this conflict would fall. They were all assembled for battle, their armour strapped to their bodies and various weapons at their sides. Only Seraphia - or the thing that had once been Seraphia - was absent, awaiting Lemartia’s word.

“Your graces,” a voice said from behind them.

Lemartia turned, to find an Earth Pony dressed in an officer’s barding and uniform staring at them. He stepped forward, deference and a slight hint of fear in his voice and stance.

“What is it?” Lemartia said in an imperious tone.

“We have received new orders,” he said. “Her Majesty has told us to target the human avatar. She’s ordered all of the Chosen on the field to converge upon him and eliminate him.”

Lemartia’s eyes widened slightly but she kept her composure.

An order to eliminate the ‘Avatar of Albion’, the humans’ weapon? That could only mean the Empress had once more sensed his presence upon the field. He had been absent for days, and most of their glorious sisterhood had been ordered held in reserve, awaiting some sign. Now, it seemed, their sign had come.

She looked at her sisters, seeing eager expressions on their faces. Many of them had been waiting for new orders since they had purged the southern bank of the River Thames and the prospect of a fight, and one against the enemy’s leader no less, was an enticing possibility.

“Very well,” she said to the officer. “Thank you for informing us. You are dismissed.”

“Your graces,” the nervous Earth Pony replied. He then turned and marched away, a little too quickly for what would normally be considered appropriate.

Lemartia considered. To simply commit all she had would be unwise.

“Sidonia,” she ordered one of her assembled sisters, a mare with a longsword girt at her back. “Take a cohort and seek their Avatar. Lysandra -” and here another mare, in heavy armour and wielding a Warhammer, raised her head. “Take your cohort and join the assaults on their main position. Despatch additional sisters to guard the artillery at Majestic. The rest of us will remain on reserve should you fail.”

“Sister,” one of the others said. “Our orders are to destroy this avatar, not wait -”

“I will not charge blindly like some oafish Minotaur,” Lemartia snapped. “We shall do this properly. We shall win.” She paused, smiling. “Our duty is now clear. We will find the demon that calls itself the Avatar of Albion. We will be the ones who bring him down for the glory of the Empress.”

“For the glory of the Empress,” her sisters intoned, and as one they moved to carry out her commands.

***

Point Gamma. 12:25.

Luna sighed as she turned back to the barricades. The Gladius di Lune was covered in blood - pony blood, the likes of which it hadn't been since -

“I must supplant her.”

“Did you really expect me to sit idly by while they all basked in your precious light? There can only be one princess in Equestria! And that princess... will be me!”

“Luna, I will not fight you! You must lower the moon! It is your duty!”

“Luna? I am... Nightmare Moon! I have but one royal duty now: to destroy you!”

Shaking that memory from her head, Luna planted the sword in the ground for the moment.

“Princess Luna?” a voice asked quietly. She turned, to see the mint-green mare from earlier looking up at her: Lyra Heartstrings, that was it.

“Yes, Miss Heartstrings?” she asked.

“Uh, it's Lieutenant, actually,” Heartstrings said awkwardly, pronouncing it in a manner not-unlike the Griffon or Trottingham way.

“Very well, Lieutenant,” Luna said quietly, copying the pronunciation. “What may we do for thee?”

“A Commander Charlie Horse has begun deploying troops to various defensive points,” Heartstrings said, now sounding more professional. “He says they don't have enough ponies to send a significant reinforcement to Gamma or Sigma, though.”

“Necessitating our remaining here for the moment,” Luna guessed. “Our presence has apparently turned the tide.”

“Yours and Elliot’s, yeah,” Heartstrings said. She looked at the Avatar, who was standing by the barricades, scanning the horizon with a frown on his face. “They’ll have noticed he’s back by now. They tend to respond by sending attacks on multiple positions, try to get his attention at seven places at once.”

“A sound tactic,” Luna said thoughtfully. “With myself here, the strain on our forces will be lessened, but not enough should they choose to press the attack in several places.”

Heartstrings nodded. “With the reinforcements you've brought, hopefully some of that strain will be lifted.”

“Hopefully,” Luna said quietly.

***

Ser Eric walked up to the Avatar, feeling a mixture of trepidation and awe around his idol. The man glanced at him as he approached, and greeted him with a nod.

“My lord,” Eric said quietly. “It's… good to see you returned.”

“Eric,” the Avatar said with a slight smile. “You have all apparently done well in my absence.”

“We have tried our best, my lord,” Eric said quietly. “We can do no more than that.”

“Your best seems to have been a strong effort,” the Avatar said quietly. He pointed to the battered barricade. “I have heard what you did here. You saved the soldiers who were stationed here. If you had not sent them away and held this place without them, they would have fallen here.”

“I… thought it was for the best,” Eric said quietly.

“I know some who would say you are soft-hearted for such a choice, Eric Smith,” the Avatar said quietly. “But we will need men of your calibre in the days to come. I fight for the present. You, and those like you, will build the future.”

Eric’s eyes widened, and he drew himself up.

“I will do my utmost not to disappoint you, my lord,” he said quietly.

“I know, Eric,” the Avatar said quietly, turning back to watch the street once again. “I know.”

***

“So,” one of the humans said. “You're an Alicorn, huh?”

Luna glanced at the man, frowning slightly. “Wouldst thou like a sarcastic answer, or a truthful one?”

The man gave a short bark of laughter. “Maybe both. Fokked if it matters. World’s gone mad anyway - being bosbefok is about the only thing left to do.”

Luna nodded slowly. “We have never heard the phrase… ‘bosbefok’, but if it means what we think it does, we can agree with that.”

The man chuckled again. “Viktor Kraber. Since you didn't ask.”

“Good to meet you,” Luna said quietly.

“It is?” the man asked, sounding surprised. “Huh. That's a change.”

“Kraber, gimme a hand with this,” another soldier said. With a sigh, Kraber headed off to help move bits of barricade.

Luna frowned - there was something, like a tingle, edging along on the air. She couldn't quite place the feeling - it felt familiar, somehow, and yet…

“Do you feel that?” she asked.

Heartstrings frowned. “Feel what?”

“I feel it too,” the Avatar suddenly called over. “Something is coming.”

Luna tensed slightly, a frown of confusion on her face. Then a cry went up - a cry containing two words she thought never to hear arranged, two words that chilled her blood.

“FALSE ALICORNS!”

***

Point Beta. 12:35.

True Grit marched with purpose as he and his comrades strode confidently down the streets of the ruined city. Though he had been completely surprised by what they had seen when they stepped through the portal that had supposedly led to another world, he was determined to do his bit.

Mind you, he’d been completely surprised by even hearing about a portal to another world, so there had come a point where surprises had apparently become commonplace. Now he had been thrown into a war between - if what they'd been told was true - evil versions of his countrymen and creatures from the most obscure fairy tales he had ever heard.

It was still strange, knowing that those odd bipedal things were humans. He'd heard the word maybe once? If that? And now here he was, fighting alongside them. He could see the ones that had come as “guides” for their unit - only five of them, heavily armoured, carrying those strange weapons of theirs.

“Company halt,” Stronghoof’s loud voice bellowed. The entire column stopped in their march with only a few seconds delay, followed by the clatter of heavily armoured ponies straightening themselves back to attention. True Grit swayed from a little under the weight of his enchanted shield, the massive device unbalancing him for a moment.

“Eyes up front,” another voice, that of the Cohort’s captain, a Pegasus named Steel Spear, shouted. A few seconds later lightly armoured Pegasi shot out of the ground and flew ahead of the formation.

True Grit strained slightly, seeing Stronghoof speaking with Steel Spear. There was a momentary lull, and then Steel Spear nodded.

“Shieldbearers, form a wall!”

With surprising speed and grace despite lack of actual practise, the Unicorns at the front of the formation unslung large blocky tower shields - each larger than the pony who carried them - and slammed them into the ground. There was an audible thud as they crashed into the concrete of the road and then a noise not unlike a click as whatever enchantments these shields had been placed under recognised they had been locked together.

True Grit knew that he was now part of an indomitable wall. So long as these shields stood and remained locked together they would never move. The enchantments made them impossible to push over or back. The hordes of Tartarus itself could throw themselves at their shieldwall and they would not pass.

That didn't, however, prevent things from going over the wall.

Which is why ponies still need to be standing behind these things, I guess, he thought to himself wryly.

“You alright?” Steady Hoof asked from behind him.

“No,” Grit admitted.

The Pegasus scouts suddenly shot back to their formation, the lead flyer landing in front of Stronghoof and Steel Spear. True Grit kept an eye on the commander as the Pegasus frantically spoke to him. He could see the flustered look on the scout’s face as he rapidly gave his report, but he couldn't hear any of what was being said. Once the Pegasus was done talking, Steel Spear spoke to Stronghoof.

“Company!” Stronghoof shouted. “Guard stance and brace.”

True Grit swallowed as he pushed his weight against the shield. He could see the Earth Ponies behind him lower their spears, their faces set in expressions of stoic preparation.

There was another sound, a familiar one: marching hooves, moving as one. After a moment, the marching ceased.

“Hail!” a voice called from beyond the shield wall. “What company is that?”

True Grit could see Steel Spear’s expression turn to one of surprise. The voice was none other than his own!

“Well?” the copy of Steel Spear’s voice shouted again from beyond the shieldwall. “Identify your company. Who are you and what are you doing in this position?”

Steel Spear took a breath. “I am Captain Steel Spear. I serve Princess Celestia. I am here under the command of Commander Charlie Horse and Princess Luna. You will stand down!”

There was a momentary, confused paused, and then the other Steel Spear started barking orders.

“IVORY GUARD! ASSAULT FORMATION!”

“SHIELDBEARERS!” Stronghoof barked in turn. “HOLD RANKS! UNICORNS! SHIELDS!”

“CONCUSSIVES READY!” the enemy’s Steel Spear yelled.

A bubble of energy, semi-transparent but tinted a colour reminiscent of mud, appeared over the top of the Royal Guard position. True Grit grimaced as he added his own energy to the shield.

“UNLEASH!” came the cry from the enemy’s position.

The enemy’s spells came a moment later - a hail of concussives, tinted in purples, greens, magentas, scarlets, blues and yellows. There must have been a good two dozen variations on a simple concussive spell raining down on the shield.

“HOLD!” the enemy’s Captain yelled.

“REINFORCE!” Stronghoof bellowed.

True Grit took his attention off of the magical field he had been helping maintain.

“Swap out!” he called. Another Unicorn’s horn glowed, and Grit finally released his own spell, sagging slightly.

“You alright?” Steady Hoof asked quickly.

“Yeah,” Grit replied. “Come on!”

He moved to the tower shield, and pressed his body against it. He swore he could feel the impact of the other Shieldbearers as they did the same and threw themselves at the back of the shieldwall.

“IVORY GUARD!” the enemy Captain shouted. “ADVANCE!”

“ROYAL GUARD!” Stronghoof bellowed in return. “DON’T LET THEM PASS!”

More concussive spells fell upon the shield, slamming into it as the enemy continued their bombardment. True Grit grimaced at the sight.

“That's not going to hold!” Steady Hoof bellowed.

“Worry about your wall!” Stronghold snapped at him, before turning to look at the Unicorns behind. “MORE UNICORNS! REINFORCE THAT BUCKING SHIELD SPELL!”

True Grit could hear the sound of the approaching enemy, the pounding of hundreds of steel-shod hooves echoing around him. Harsh whinnies and brays also announced these Ivory Guard, making the entire situation seem even more surreal and nightmarish than it already was.

“BRACE!” Stronghoof shouted one last time before the enemy hit.

There was a disturbing crunch as dozens of heavily armoured bodies impacted enchanted steel. True Grit felt his shield shift slightly as the enemy literally threw themselves at it. He couldn’t make out exactly what was going on beyond his shield but he occasionally saw a pony rear up over the edge only to get impaled by the Royal Guard behind him.

Grit clenched his teeth and pressed harder against the shield as he felt the metal flex and shudder at the weight of the enemy beyond it. Blood splattered on the crown of his head as his comrades butchered any that tried to climb over the top of the shieldwall. The gore trickled down onto his face as he tried to concentrate on keeping the shieldwall stable and he blinked fiercely as he tried to get the blood out of his eyes.

Time passed and crawled at the same time as Grit held up his barrier. He could feel the enemy scrambling on the other side, trying to either push the shields down or clamber over the top.

“FALL BEFORE THE EMPRESS’ MIGHT!” a loud voice suddenly shrieked. He had only ever heard such an overtly powerful tone when the princesses used the Royal Canterlot Voice.

Suddenly, three of the shields - and their bearers - simply vaporised in a blast of fire and energy. There was a sound almost like an absence of sound, and then a shockwave blasted outwards, knocking dozens of Guardsponies backwards.

“BREACH!” somepony shouted.

“ATTACK!” somepony else screamed.

True Grit shook his head, trying to clear it of the ringing that threatened to drive him mad. He saw ponies in Ivory armour charging through the gap in the shield wall, his comrades and the humans moving to engage them, and then he saw the pony responsible.

She strode through the gap, a sword resting against an armoured shoulder, eyes narrowed as she glared at the Royal Guard. Her coat was soft blue, her flowing mane a darker shade of blue. Her armour was ornate and shimmered in the light. Laid over her back was a flowing purple cloak with glowing golden runes woven into the fabric that fluttered behind her. As she marched forward her horn glowedg with a sickly yellow light.

“For the Empress!” she called to her Ivory-armoured compatriots, forming a massive ball of magical energy over her head as she did so. “ATTACK!”

True Grit gritted his teeth and braced as he saw the decorated mare throw the ball of energy into the rear of his own formation. Ponies were sent flying by a tempestuous detonation that threw True Grit to the ground. Metal clattered against concrete as shields, spears and armoured bodies were thrown into the air.

True Grit tried to pull himself up, wincing as he felt sharp pain lance through his chest. He grabbed about for his shield trying to raise it up. The blast had torn two massive holes in the formation, decimating the shield wall and throwing the phalanx behind into disarray. Ponies everywhere were trying to reform but most were too stunned to move.

It was then, as he lay against his raised shield, struggling to catch his breath, that he saw the silver line advance.

***

Point Gamma. 12:50.

They were Alicorns. Luna had met every single Alicorn and nearly-Alicorn that had ever lived in Equestria - had known Cadence, fought Divine Right, and grown up with Celestia. These things were Alicorns - similar in stature to her, elegant wings spread as they flew towards the defences, horns glowing, armoured, and armed.

There were something like fifteen in total with this group, landing with elegant precision in front of the barricade. Luna’s eyes widened in horror - Elliot had mentioned them, but somehow Luna had not expected them to be as close to the true Alicorn form as this. There was something off, but she couldn't tell what it was without closer study. Something to do with the energy they exuded perhaps.

Bullets and spells lanced out immediately from the BDF position, Eric aiming his Coilgun at them and firing, Kraber bringing his hastily repaired LMG up to rain hell on them. Even Lieutenant Heartstrings fired spells from her horn, her eyes wide with horror.

As one, the Alicorns’ horns flowed into a latticework that deflected the spells and bullets like they were nothing. They maintained calm expressions, one of them looking Luna directly in the eyes. The Princess of the Night met the False Alicorn’s gaze evenly, and eventually the other turned away.

The Avatar stepped down from the barricade, his cloak flowing behind him. He raised up a gauntleted hand, and fired a blast of golden energy that dissipated their shield. The BDF troops fired, but the shield reconstituted itself too quickly. Again, he dissipated the shield, and again they raised it again. Finally, the Avatar raised a hand and the firing ceased. He stepped toward the Alicorns.

Luna floated down to stand next to him, keeping a step behind him, wondering what he planned to do. The Alicorns tensed.

“Your mistress has deceived you into believing you can triumph here,” he said to the Alicorns, his voice strident and commanding. “You will stand down now, or you will die.”

The head of the Alicorn group frowned slightly, before drawing a longsword not unlike the Gladius di Lune. She pointed it at Elliot in challenge.

“Do you think we fear death, human?” she asked. “Ours is the righteous light of the Empress - no mare died in Her service that died in vain.”

“Let us test that,” the Avatar said with a growl, clenching one fist.

And then it began.

A hail of spells suddenly flashed towards the Avatar and he held up his swords. They struck, and masonry simply disintegrated around the barricades. Dust and smoke filled the area for a moment, and the leader of the False Alicorns smirked.

“So strikes the spear of the Empress, demon,” she declared.

And then the smoke cleared. Much of the surrounding masonry and structures had been obliterated, but the Avatar was intact, holding a hand up. A golden shield of magic had surrounded the embattled BDF, enhanced by Luna and Lyra’s own efforts, all three of them visibly straining. The Avatar lowered his hand, and the shield dissipated.

“Competent, but blunt,” the Avatar said, raising his sword. “Now allow me to reply.”

The Avatar dashed forward, bringing his sword to bear on the new, hastily raised shield the Alicorns were behind. In a flash of light, the thing disintegrated again, only this time the Alicorns scattered, leaping around and surrounding the Avatar.

“Again!” the leader yelled. The Alicorns’ horns glowed and a hail of spells flashed towards him, but he leapt into the air before the spells impacted. He brought Excalibur up and aimed it at one of the Alicorns, and a spell lanced out, smashing into the mare and throwing her into a nearby building. He dashed towards another, knocking her to the ground, and landed in front of her. He brought his sword up to block another spell, the energy splashing against the blade, before lashing out at the Alicorn before him. She brought a blade out, trying to block him, and he growled, shoving her backwards with a grunt.

A spell suddenly struck him in the back, sending him flying over the mare he had forced back. He hit the ground hard, rolling slightly and trying to get back on his feet. He righted himself just in time to throw himself aside as another of the Alicorns charged straight toward him, her horn lowered and alight. He dodged her strike and lashed out with Excalibur, clipping her head and sending her reeling off to the left, blood streaming from the ruin of her ear.

Just as he was about to turn back to the other Alicorns one of them barreled straight into him. Both combatants were sent back as the mare continued crashing into a wall. Both of them fell, winded and disoriented by the impact. The Avatar shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and saw a blade coming down for him. He raised his sword just in time to block another strike. The Alicorn had drawn a short glaive and brandished it threateningly in front of her, a snarl on her face.

The other Alicorns moved to throw spells at him, but suddenly Luna was in the centre of them. Her horn flashed, a shockwave flaring out and sending many of them reeling, stunned.

“You face a true Alicorn now!” she declared, her horn glowing again as she brought a shield up to block the spells sent at her. Her horn flared again, creating another shockwave, and she turned to see how the Avatar was faring.

He was still duelling the mare he had engaged - he blocked a few strikes. She parried another blow, but he leapt and glided above her, landed behind her, and stabbed through her throat.

“Engage him!” the Leader yelled, even as Luna threw a spell at another False Alicorn.

They were all armed similarly - swords, axes, spears and glaives. They brought their weapons to bear at charged at the Avatar. He growled and brought his blade to bear, and a deadly dance began, as the warriors charged into battle, parrying, blocking and riposting.

One of the False Alicorns flew into the air, firing spells at the defenders, who scrabbled to take cover.

“Cur!” Luna yelled, wings out as she leapt into the sky. “Come back and fight!”

She swept the Gladius di Lune towards her foe, and the other Alicorn was forced to bring her own weapon - a reinforced spear - out to block the strike.

“You are not the revered Luna,” the Alicorn said to Luna with a sneer. She shoved backward, before throwing a spell that Luna barely managed to block. “You are some abomination these traitors have summoned -”

“Silence!” Luna snapped, sending her own spell that threw the False Alicorn through a wall. The other mare did not fly out of the broken masonry, and Luna snorted derisively, before looking down at the fighting.

Most of the False Alicorns were still duelling the Avatar. He was blocking strikes, but many of them were throwing spells that disrupted his flow and forced him to dodge or leap. The BDF troopers were still trying to fire at them, but it seemed that the Alicorns were ignoring them for the moment. Luna growled, and threw another spell down towards the False Alicorns, who scattered as the spell obliterated masonry. She charged at one outlier, her horn glowing, and unleashed a shockwave as she landed, the power of the spell throwing the mare backwards, bones breaking and limbs twisting.

“Charge!” she heard one of the humans yell, and insanely, the armoured human (Ser Eric, was it?) charged out, bringing his weapon to bear on one of the False Alicorns while it was paying attention to Luna, and stabbing it through the throat. The body bucked and juddered slightly, before he removed his sword and the corpse dropped. Another Alicorn turned to face him, and he was the target of a spell, but he managed to hold his hand up and conjure a magical shield that withstood the spell, just, though he was thrown to the ground. Luna growled, and conjured as powerful a spell as she could and threw it at the False Alicorn, just as she had conjured her own.

The combined force obliterated the False Alicorn: a splash of blood and offal was all that remained.

The spread of gore and the sound of the explosion of energy seemed to suddenly dull the sound of the world around Luna. Her ears were ringing, and she shook her head, dimly aware of a flare of golden light. When her head finally cleared, she looked up, only to see another False Alicorn charging her, throwing a spell as she did so. Almost on instinct she deflected it with her sword, but the spell blasted the weapon away. Grimacing, she charged her own spell and threw it back at her opponent, the destructive magic blowing a chunk of the False Alicorn’s head off. The momentum of the charging body made it slam into Luna, who staggered slightly under the weight. She shoved the corpse off of her, and turned to look - to her relief, only two False Alicorns remained: the leader, and one other, and both were duelling the Avatar.

The leader was competent - blocking strikes that moved faster than mere mortal senses, and retaliating with efficient, elegant precision. The other Alicorn was blunter, stabbing and hacking. The Avatar merely blocked these attacks in turn, his own style graceful and yet blunt, moving like water while hitting like the hardest of hammers. With one sudden sidestep, the other False Alicorn overreached, her momentum carrying her forward, and he hacked at her, cleaving her head off and sending the once graceful creature to the ground. Elliot noticed, for a brief moment, the look of utter surprise on his former opponent’s face as its head fell unceremoniously to the floor. At the same time, the leader of the False Alicorns threw a spell that smashed into the Avatar: he was blasted backward, but he somersaulted in mid air and landed heavily on his feet, dropping to one knee from momentum.

He looked upward, glaring at the False Alicorn with pure rage.

“You appear to be out of troops,” he said to her in a cold, monotone voice. “Are you prepared to surrender?”

“Never,” the leader said. “You may win a brief respite on this field for a day, demon, but against Her light there will be no victory.”

“And yet, here I am,” the Avatar said, gesturing to the corpses of the other False Alicorns. “Your mighty have fallen, and you are alone.”

“We will not be the last,” the leader hissed. “Lemartia has ushered in the terror. You.” And the Alicorn's eyes flashed at Luna. “You will know a true Nightmare.”

Luna’s blood ran cold. “What does that mean, cur?”

“The madness of our kind,” the lead False Alicorn said, a slow grin coming upon her face. “You know it. And as it came for you, it crawls upon our sisters too. All of us feel it. And now it is here.”

The Avatar brought his blade up and pointed it at the leader in challenge. “Enough of your riddles. Surrender.”

The leader twitched. “Never.”

There was a moment, and then suddenly her horn glowed and she threw another spell at the Avatar. He raised a hand and the spell crackled against a shield of white light. At the same time, Luna dashed forward, and the Gladius di Lune slammed into the False Alicorn’s chest.

The Alicorn’s eyes widened, and met Luna. At that moment, the Lunar Diarch felt a strange sense of kinship with this mare, this falsehood that nonetheless bore part of the same power that she and Celestia had been born to. How strange it was to see. The mare’s eyes glazed over, something leaving them, and the corpse slowly slid to the floor.

Luna stepped back.

“Art thou alright?” the Avatar said softly from behind her.

“No,” Luna said honestly. “No, I am not.”

“No,” the Avatar said quietly. He wiped a little blood from his nose, staring at it with an expression that might have been distaste. “I suppose you would not be. Hearing of False Alicorns is one thing - battling them another.”

“This… this is abomination,” Luna said quietly. “Ascension is something earned, not forced. I have never seen an effort at forced ascension succeed, and yet here these… things are.”

“Yes,” the Avatar nodded. “Here they are.”

Luna shook her head, turning away from the bodies - only to see Lyra Heartstrings galloping up to the pair of them, Ser Eric hot on her heels.

“Elliot,” she said quickly to the Avatar. “Point Sigma reports that a force of ponies is on the move near them! They also report heavy artillery bombardment - they think they're being targeted deliberately -”

“To try and get my attention,” the Avatar finished quietly. “They want to divert my attention between so many points that I cannot help all at once. No doubt if I appear there -”

“They'll attack here again,” Heartstrings finished.

“We can hold them, my liege,” Eric said softly.

“My friend, strong as you are, you cannot battle dozens of these False Alicorns at once and expect to survive,” the Avatar said quietly. “Should they strike here again -”

“I will not fail you,” Eric said quietly. “I swear it.”

“It is possible they were not anticipating my presence, though,” Luna pointed out to the group. She turned to address the Avatar. “It strikes me that these falsehoods were seeking to slay you. Maybe the attack elsewhere is meant to be their true assault.”

“Even if it is not,” the Avatar said quietly, “I cannot stand idly by.” He turned to Heartstrings. “Hold the line here.”

“Don't I always?” Heartstrings asked with a wry smile.

The Avatar smiled too, and then with a sudden leaping motion he had taken off into the sky.

“Interesting,” Luna said. “I did not know he could fly.”

“He can leap,” Heartstrings corrected. She pointed to the top of the building, where the Avatar could be seen. “And hover. Never seen him fly. Maybe he could if he tried.”

“Still,” Luna said softly. She looked around. “This…”

“Surprised?” Heartstrings asked quietly.

“Slightly,” Luna said quietly. “Elliot’s words did not convey this with all the… viscerality.”

There was a moment's silence as the two contemplated the scene of carnage before them.

“We’d best get ready for the next assault,” Heartstrings said quietly.

“Indeed,” Luna said quietly. “I fear this is not over yet.”

***

Point Sigma. 13:25.

Point Sigma was a mess. Ruined defensive positions lay covered in bodies, both Imperial and BDF. A handful of troops were cowering in cover. Every so often, a large projectile would impact in the streets slamming into the concrete and sending a shower of rubble and wreckage over the survivors.

“Sir!” a pony trooper said, waving him over.

Striding over to the soldier, the Avatar crouched by him.

“Speak quickly,” the Avatar instructed.

“There's an artillery position across the river!” the pony said. “It keeps hitting us - we’ve been pinned, barely able to mount a defence!”

“I see,” the Avatar said quietly. He stood. “I will silence the guns.”

He began striding in the direction of the river.

“But Commander - won’t you need help?” someone called out.

He didn't answer, save for a glance back at the lines, a soft smile on his face. Then he turned back, and with a slight crouch he suddenly vaulted into the sky.

***

Command Post Regal. 13:40.

Lemartia scanned the horizon, her horn glowing softly. For the past ten minutes she had been still, her eyes searching for her victorious sisters… but there was no sign, which meant only one thing - there had been no victory.

“They're dead, aren't they?” the sibilant hiss of the mare behind her said.

“I believe so,” Lemartia said simply. “It is little surprise. Skilled as they were, this demon the enemy have summoned -”

“Is a demon,” her sister replied. “Sister. Let me seek the creature out.”

Lemartia turned to stare at the mare who had been Seraphia. The thing had a neutral expression on its face, but there was a glint in her eyes not unlike that of bloodlust.

“You think you can kill it?” Lemartia asked honestly.

“I am Death,” the not-Seraphia - this Cherubael - said. “If it is a demon, only a demon may slay it.”

“Do you believe yourself strong enough?” Lemartia asked.

Cherubael snorted. “In the heart of battle shall I find my place. In the face of the impossible I shall meet my destiny - and I shall kill it.”

Lemartia sighed, before turning back to the horizon.

“It was last seen in Target Scion,” she said. “Do as you will.”

She didn't look as the not-Seraphia took to the skies. There would be blood this day, she knew.

***

Point Gamma. 14:10.

The Gladius di Lune bit into the armour of another Guardspony. Luna scowled as she looked around: most of the enemy had been slain or routed, and yet she did not feel the elation of victory. THere was something wrong about all of this.

“These are no challenge!” she called back to Heartstrings, who was still dealing with a few herself.

Heartstrings scowled and she threw the last of her opponents through a wall.

“Are they meant to be, your highness?!” she asked irritably.

“It bodes ill that they should send a force such as these when they sent such a powerful strike before,” Luna replied. “If I were leading them, with the forces they have shown, I would drown them in bodies or smash them apart. They are holding back.”

“They’ve learned fokkin’ better than to drown us in bodies,” Kraber put in. “We can fokkin’ swim.”

Ser Eric, who was rolling his shoulder tenderly after a particularly unpleasant impact, was frowning.

“She makes a valid point, though,” he said. “This seems too easy after the last few attacks.”

“They might be dealing with Elliot,” Heartstrings theorised. “That might be distracting their more powerful forces.”

“Maybe,” Luna said. “But still - I sense something… afoot…”

She trailed off, her eyes widening, as a sudden closeness seized upon her chest, constricting her lungs until she felt as though she could hardly breathe at all. Something was here - something was coming, something more familiar to her than blood, and yet alien and terrifying. And then a voice spoke, echoing across the silent battleground.

“You are not the Avatar.”

Heartstrings’ eyes widened in horror. Ser Eric’s hand strayed to his sword, and Kraber raised his rifle. Luna turned to look at her enemy, knowing what she would see.

The eyes, so full of hatred. The alien energy flowing from an ethereal mane, flowing like a river of blood. Scarlet wings bursting from beneath black armour, and a long, elegant horn sprouting from beneath the blood-river mane. Sharp teeth pulled back in a grin. Scarlet pupils in a sea of black. A pair of short, cruel blades held in a guard stance around the thing’s head.

“Princess Luna,” the thing said. “The first Nightmare. I am honoured”

Luna said nothing, but held her sword out in challenge, her eyes widening in horror.

“Do you not recognise your blessing in me?” the thing asked. “I am hurt, forebear. Truly I am. I am your child - my flesh molded in the image you left us, a humble traveller in the wake of the sickly light of your beacon. Do you not see yourself in me?”

“You are diseased,” Luna hissed. “A monster. You have let madness claim you, False Alicorn.”

“Ah, a madness you call it,” the thing said. “But this is not madness. I am the future - you lit the way for us, all those long years ago, and now by the grace of the Empress’ gifts and the guidance of the blessed Lemartia, I have claimed my true birthright. Behold the ascendance of ponykind, and despair!”

The demon-thing’s horn glowed, and suddenly a shockwave of crackling scarlet energy burst out. Luna was just barely able to raise a shield in time to block it, and could only watch in horror as many of the defenders around her were obliterated. She saw Kraber and a handful of others duck behind cover, Heartstrings raise her own shield and manage (just) to avoid being blasted to nothingness (though she was thrown backwards) and Ser Eric hold a hand up, his armour glowing with runic symbols as his cape fluttered in the wake of the blast.

And then it was over. Luna lowered her shield, as Eric stepped up to one side of her. A moment later, Heartstrings was at her other side, eyes still wide.

“Well,” Eric said. “Shit.”

“We can take her,” Heartstrings said, though her expression belied the confidence of her tone.

“Foolish things,” the demon-Alicorn said. “I am Cherubael. I am Death, and I bring it in my wake.”

Luna snorted, her hoof pawing the ground as she raised her sword high.

“You talk too bucking much,” she swore, and then she charged.

Author's Notes:

This one's been difficult to write, but I'm confident that it was worth it :-)

My especial thanks to Royal Psycho for his tireless efforts to bring blood, gore and unpleasant amounts of awesome violence crashing into my battle scenes in the most realistic way possible, to Doctor Fluffy for his continued friendship, support and ability to write funny stuff, and to The Void, who keeps my writing honest.

My thanks as well to those who have followed, favourited and commented. Your presence is always a welcome sight.

Til next time, guys.

Jed.

(K)Night Terror

***

“Warriors of Equestria. Thou hast come to make war on the sovereign land of Albion and the human race. Turn thy army back… or die!”
David Elliot, The Avatar of Albion.

***

London. January 16th. 2032.

Point Beta: 14:15.

The clang of metal on metal. Screams. The wet sound of flesh sundered. Ringing in his ears.

True Grit shook his head, trying to bring his head out of whatever funk it had ended up in. He was holding his spear in his telekinetic grip. He'd lost his helmet somewhere along the way, his dark green mane flowing behind him. His coat was slicked with sweat and blood.

He brought his spear up, looking for a target, but the melee was confusing, chaotic even. A stallion in white armour charged into one of Grit’s colleagues, and with a growl, Grit rushed him, ramming his spear into his enemy’s neck. A spurt of blood spat out, splattering onto Grit’s face, and with a snarl he pulled the spear out.

“Thanks!” the other Guard said. “Come on, we have to -”

A spell struck the guard in the head, blasting through his eye and out the back of his skull, and he fell to the ground with a clattering thud. Grit growled, turning to see where the shot had come from, and found himself looking at the purple-cloaked Mage. The mare was throwing spells into the melee almost at random, but each spell took out a Royal Guard.

Snarling, Grit charged, but found himself intercepted by a mare in Ivory armour, her helmet gone, revealing a growling Earth Pony face.

“Traitor!” she screamed.

“Buck you!” he shouted back breathlessly, knocking her spear away and headbutting her, before using a spell that sent energy coruscating across her body. She juddered and shuddered, a look of pain on her face, and then she slumped to the ground, but he had already moved on, throwing a concussive spell at a pair of Ivory Guards ganging up on another Royal Guard as he did so.

There were bodies everywhere. Royal Guard, Ivory Guard - but Grit couldn't see any fallen humans. His eyes looked for the tall figures - there! There they were, further along the lines, some of them firing their strange weapons, others using swords to carve through the battlefield.

It was then that he was suddenly bludgeoned to the ground, he hit the ground hard and his head swam as he vaguely saw a pony’s hindquarters fly over him followed by the loud clattering of metal nearby. He tried to climb up again only for somepony else to hit from the other side. He fell to the ground and was trampled by several sets of hooves, his armour denting.

He lay where he had fallen, waiting for another impact but mercifully none came. He pulled himself back up, pain flaring through his body. A small, more coherent part of his mind wondered just how many bones he had broken from the collisions he had suffered.

He stood up and tried to find his shield. Ponies were everywhere around him, running back and forth. Both sides’ formations had collapsed in the centre, the Royal Guard trying to counter-charge the Ivory Guard ponies whilst the silver-clad soldiers piled into the fray. Spells flew overhead in every direction as Unicorn Marksmages shot at whoever came into their sights. Little groups would occasionally form into a roughly organised block and charge at whichever enemies were nearby but it would inevitably lead to their stampede falling apart the moment they contacted.

True Grit lit his horn and grabbed around at the detritus now littering the street for anything he could wield. He felt his magic wrap around the familiar blocky shape of a shield and he hoisted it upright.

A cry suddenly came behind him and he saw an Ivory Guard Unicorn gallop out of the anarchy in his direction. Reacting on instinct True Grit swung his shield at the incoming pony. The dense shield impacted the Unicorn and sent the stunned pony down to the ground. Not wasting an instant True Grit picked up the shield and then brought the heavy rim down on the pony’s head. He felt a disturbing crunch but didn’t stop. Again and again he lifted the shield and then thrust it back down on the pony’s head until there was barely anything recognisable left of it.

Just as fatigue began to wash away the rush of adrenaline that had overtaken him he was hit again. It felt like the concussion spells they had all been taught as trainees but so much stronger. He was thrown end over end into the air - the world spinning as he tried to flail in panic - and crashed into a pile of broken bodies that had built up on the other side of the street.

He lay unmoving, unable to comprehend anything other than the unending pain he felt all over his body. His armour was broken in several places and he could see blood on him; who it belonged to, himself or somepony else, he couldn’t tell. His vision was already beginning to darken, and a buzzing and thumping in his ears was drowning out the noise of battle. He lay amongst the dead and dying, unable to move and struggling to breath as the battle faded away and darkness took him.

***

Point Gamma. 14:15.

Luna slammed into the corrupted False Alicorn. There was a clang of metal on metal as the two collided, and Luna’s momentum bore them both backwards through a wall, smashing through the masonry with ease.

Lyra turned to the surviving troops of Point Gamma - the still-groggy and wounded Everett, Elise, Nox, Kraber and two others.

“You need to get out of here,” she said urgently.

“Fok that, Lieutenant,” Kraber said sharply. “You'll need us all to -”

“This isn't a fight we’re coming out of,” Lyra snapped. “That thing’s not any old F.A. You stay, you die.”

Kraber looked set to argue, but the look on Lyra’s face cut him off.

“Get back to Alpha, warn them what's happening,” she instructed. “Maybe get them to send a REV here or something, I don't bloody know!”

Kraber shook his head. “You're bosbefok, Lyra.” With a growl he stood up. “Come on, let's move.”

He began threading his way through the rubble, the others following, except for Elise. She walked to Eric, who was tense. There came the sounds of clanging metal and slamming bodies from beyond sight.

“You'll need backup on this one,” Elise said quietly to Eric quietly.

“Maybe,” Eric said tightly, “but I need you to pull back. We will need experienced Knights to support the Avatar in the days to come. That's you and Alex.”

Elise nodded, though she didn't look happy. There was another slamming sound.

“Go,” Eric said tightly. His hand clenched on the hilt of his sword. “Now.”

Elise jogged off, leaving Eric and Lyra waiting as more slamming noises started. Suddenly, a figure burst from the buildings, flying over several taller buildings before slamming into the side of one, what was left of glass and masonry cracking under the impact.

Luna floated gently out of the hole in the masonry. She had a few scratches along her face and body, but seemed otherwise unhurt.

“We’ve evacuated the others,” Lyra told her at once. “But this False Alicorn -”

“She is a Nightmare,” Luna corrected. She shook her head. “Bad enough these fools have created such perversions, but to allow them to become Nightmares…”

“Whatever they've done, we have to deal with it,” Eric said shortly. He drew his sword, activating a switch that caused coruscating energy to begin pulsing up and down the blade.

Luna nodded. She looked to Lyra. “You would be better off falling back - this is not a fight you -”

“Save it, your highness,” Lyra said, her horn glowing. “I’ve fought stupid odds before. This is my job.”

Luna sighed. “Very well.”

There was a rumbling, and suddenly a flash of light indicated that the Nightmare had teleported back to them. The light faded, revealing the mare standing there, looking faintly amused.

“Hello,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

Luna growled, her horn glowing, and she sent a spell at the Nightmare, only for her foe to deflect it. Lyra sent another spell, and this one the corrupted Alicorn sent back at her, forcing the Lieutenant to bring a shield up - the backlash from the spell threw her backwards.

Growling, Eric charged forward, and the Alicorn brought her blades up, blocking his strike. She stabbed forward, and he dodged the stabs quickly, before lashing out again. She blocked easily, a small, confident smirk on her face.

Luna charged forward as well, bringing the Gladius di Lune to bear: her strikes were targeted and strong, and her enemy was forced on the defensive, stepping back slowly as she worked her curved blades to parry both Luna and Eric’s strikes. And yet, despite being on the defensive, her little smirk did not waver.

Suddenly, her left blade twirled, sending Eric off balance as he tried to block. A flash of magic sent him flying away and slamming into a wall. Luna suddenly found herself trying to block two blades, and was forced on the defensive as the Nightmare launched a fierce assault, her blades moving faster than sight and nearly finding their mark more than once.

A mint-green flash smacked into the Nightmare’s face, halting her assault for a moment, and Luna seized upon the advantage, her horn glowing as she sent a concussive spell slamming into the mare, throwing her backwards through more buildings, dust and masonry flying outward.

Luna looked back to Lyra. “Well struck.”

“For all the good it does,” Lyra replied, her voice tense. “She's not done yet.”

“No,” Luna agreed as the masonry rumbled. “She is not.”

***

Command Post Majestic. 14:17.

An armoured figure landed among the ruins of the city, glancing around. In the distance he could see the rubble that had once been the Globe Theatre, and the broken towers of London Bridge, now impassible. Near them, however, were things that were more immediate concerns.

He could see the enemy gun batteries nearby. Massive cannons, mounted on ornate wheeled carriages were firing rounds constantly. Their barrels were wider than anything the BDF fielded, appearing more like the centuries-old antique cannons he had seen in museums. Various rims span around the barrels, lit by glowing runic script and constantly moving as if adjusting themselves at all times. Every time the gun fired the runes would flare even brighter and then fade down again. All of them were brightly painted and decorated with flowing golden rich red and rich red lines that contrasted with the polished steel of the barrels. They were raised high into the air, firing their shells into the sky like giant mortars.

Around the battery were pony crews who carried large shells covered in similar scripts. Every time a gun fired one of the ponies would immediately move to open the breech at the rear and make room for two more to life the shell into place and seal the breech shut again. The guns firing discipline seemed haphazard at first but the more the Avatar watched the quicker he realized that they weren’t firing at will. They were firing in sequence, each gun firing in time after the other so that they maintained a constant barrage.

Rolling his shoulders, he began striding towards the position. Almost at once, shouts went up from Equestrian positions all around him, and he could see a few Guards - rearguard troopers mostly - charging at him. A few spells lashed out, most hitting the dirt around him, but one or two slammed into his armour, scorching it. Grimacing, he held up a hand and a shield of translucent white energy appeared before him, catching the spells as they neared him. He pressed on.

A few were brave enough to grab their weapons and charge him. He ignored them, and as they reached his shield they were repelled, thrown backwards into the rubble. A few managed to stir weakly, dazed from the impact.

A few moments later, he reached the enemy trench works, and vaulted over them. He lowered his hand, the shield dissipating, and he brought Excalibur up as a few more charged at him. Deftly he parried blows and riposted, his blade cutting through armour like cloth. They were skilled fighters, no doubt, but they had no chance against him.

He heard shouts, orders being given, but ignored them. The guns were ahead - and he had to silence them.

***

Command Post Regal. 14:18.

At Command Post Regal, Chaplain Lemartia looked out upon the blasted city, her mind wandering far from the raging battle.

What have I done? she thought with a soft frown of consternation. I have unleashed a Nightmare upon the enemy: is it damnation to court the Nightmare within, or is it as the Empress says, a necessary evil? She paused, considering the question. Perhaps it is both - a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless, and damnation is just another sacrifice we endure for the Empress.

“My lady!” a voice called from behind her.

Lemartia turned to see a Guardspony racing towards her, a harried expression on the mare’s face.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Report from CP Majestic, your grace!” the Guardsmare said breathlessly. “The demon! It's here!”

Lemartia’s eyes widened. At Majestic? But that was the artillery - without that, the advance would not have the support it needed! She spread her wings at once.

Damnation or not, it is a sacrifice I make gladly.

“Then I shall meet it!” she declared, and then she flew.

***

Command Post Majestic. 14:19.

“The enemy are on us!” a voice shouted in the distance. “They're here! They're here!”

Immediately the camp erupted in a frenzy of activity as ponies everywhere rushed to get into formation. They had been about to assemble to reinforce the assaults on the enemy position but whatever force the humans had been able to muster had caught them off guard.

“Horseapples!” Sunny Days cursed as he galloped to where his unit was assembling.

He, Golden Lock and Steadfast had been sent to Majestic a few hours ago as part of a rotation, though personally Sunny Days had preferred being at Regal. The arcguns were loud, even from Regal, and being this close to them made it all the worse. Sunny Days could have sworn he was getting a migraine.

“What’s going on!” Golden Lock shouted, panic on his face. “What do they mean ‘they’re here’?”

“Stop standing there and get into line!” Steadfast suddenly shouted, cutting Golden Lock off as he ran past the other two. Golden Lock looked worried as he struggled between obeying his friend and waiting for some kind of answer.

“Do what the old nag said,” Sunny Days snapped. “Buck knows what's happening, but it won't be good.”

“Soldiers of the Empire!” the voice of their commander suddenly bellowed over the noise of the reassembling army. “The time has come to once again face our foes. We go to battle to prove ourselves to Her divine Majesty. For Crown and Empire!”

Sunny Days slowed down as he fell into line with the other soldiers. He could see Golden Lock and Steadfast at their own points in the formation.

Suddenly there was a great clamour, and then a great heavy object flew into the air from the distance - before slamming into the commander’s position, smearing him and a few of the other lead Sergeants along the ground.

“Buck!” Sunny Days yelled. They had been crushed by one of the artillery cannons, hurled from its position.

“What the buck did that?!” somepony yelled. “One of their metal golems?!”

“It's the demon!” another yelled. “It has to be!”

“Everypony calm down!” Steadfast yelled. The old stallion stepped out of his already breaking formation, moving to the head of the group. “I need two Pegasus scouts, now!”

Two Pegasi moved out of formation immediately.

“Alright,” Steadfast said. “I need to know what’s attacking the guns!”

At once, the two ponies flew into the air and in the direction of Regal. Sunny Days glowered as he waited in formation. Deep down, a part of him was terrified at facing the humans again. Whatever the humans had brought to bear was capable of flinging arcguns from their emplacement several blocks away to just a few metres in front of him where his commanding officer had once stood.

“What do we do if it is the human’s magical weapon?” Golden Lock called out. “Do we attack?”

Steadfast didn’t answer. He wasn’t even sure he had an answer.

***

Point Gamma. 14:25.

Movement was a blur. The Knight Terror was fast - one moment she would be above, the next at the side. One moment she would be out of reach, and the next she would slam into you, forcing you backwards.

Luna matched her, pace for pace, step for step, strike for strike, her teeth gritted and sweat dripping down her forehead as she struck out blocking her opponent’s strikes and responding with her own. Alongside her, Lyra tried her best to throw spells that would distract and delay the Nightmare, though it seemed mostly to be merely annoying the mare. Eric, meanwhile, was struggling to keep up as well, barely managing to save himself from strikes that would have torn him in half had he failed to block them.

Luna’s horn glowed, a shockwave lashing out that blasted the Knight Terror backwards. She took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes at her enemy. Next to her, Lyra was breathing heavily, exhausted from her exertions. Eric had knelt on one knee, seemingly concentrating.

“She’s strong,” he commented simply.

“Are you alright, Eric?” Lyra asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Eric replied softly, shaking his head slightly. “I just… need a moment.”

“We may not have one,” Luna said grimly. “This Nightmare is a difficult beast.”

Eric shook his head, then pulled himself to his feet, his expression pained and his cheeks gaunt.

“Nothing we have seems to be stopping her,” Lyra put in. “You're the Alicorn Princess here - how do we kill her?”

“I have never seen an Alicorn die,” Luna admitted with a frown of consternation. “I do not even know if such a thing is possible.”

“That isn't comforting,” Eric said quietly.

Before they could say anything more, however, there was a flash of magic, and an explosion scattered the three.

“I’m touched that you all seem so eager to talk about me when I’m not here,” the Knight Terror said with a sneering smile, “but really, everypony, isn’t talking behind a pony’s back rude?”

Lyra snarled. “I’m so sorry our manners aren't up to scratch - here, have a consolation present -!”

She shot a spell at Cherubael, who deflected it lazily. Luna took off, charging at her again, her blade clashing with Cherubael’s own weapons. The insane Alicorn grinned.

“Come now,” she said. “I’m sure you can do more than that! Or is the fabled Nightmare Moon -”

Luna yelled, and suddenly a spell blasted Cherubael backwards, and Luna charged after her, pressing the assault and leaving Eric and Lyra behind.

“Dammit,” Lyra said with a scowl. “She’ll get herself killed.”

“She is an Alicorn Princess,” Eric pointed out. “We have to assume she’s capable of holding her own.”

“We don’t have to assume a damn thing,” Lyra said.

There was a sudden explosion, and the dark form of Luna could be seen flying through a building. A moment later, a spell impacted near Lyra and Eric and they dodged to take cover. A moment later, the dust had cleared, and Cherubael was standing before them, a sickly expression of rage and insane glee on her face. She seemed unstable, as if her physical body were struggling to hold itself together. Her blood-red ethereal mane had grown, extending outward and flowing like a rapid river. It had begun to darken on the edges, turning into a sheet of wispish darkness.

A spell flashed towards her, and she raised a shield almost lazily as it impacted. She stepped back, the impact knocking her back slightly, but she did not falter. A moment later, Luna landed near Lyra, her expression livid.

“Now that was rude.” the Knight Terror said with a mad lilt to her voice. Her grin twisted into a dark grimace as she began to build power in her horn. “I think it’s time we saw whether or not the fabled Nightmare Moon is as terrible and mighty as the old mare’s tales said”

“Do not use that name,” Luna hissed. “You abomination.”

Cherubael laughed. “You’re too kind, Nightmare Moo-”

With a mad yell of rage, Luna propelled herself forward, once again clashing against Cherubael’s blades. This time, the corrupted mare’s expression became a little more frustrated, but with a grunt of effort she pushed Luna back.

“Now,” she said, “that is more like it.”

***

Command Post Majestic. 14:40.

The Avatar cut down another Ivory Guardspony, the mare falling with a clanking sound against the hard ground. He had destroyed many of the guns already - the artillery was well defended, but only by the standards of mortal beings.

The last handful of guns were still firing, and he grimaced slightly, before beginning a slow march towards them.

“Demon!” a voice called from somewhere above him.

He turned, only for a spell to impact him in the chest, throwing him backwards to the ground. With a scowl, he pulled himself up, and found himself facing a False Alicorn. She wore a circlet of gold upon her head, and piercing blue eyes stared out from a faintly golden coat and a rich blonde mane.

“You are the demon the humans summoned,” she said stridently, her voice faintly tinged with an unidentifiable accent, as though she were trying to disguise a stronger one. “The Avatar.”

“Yes,” he replied simply, bringing his blade to a guard stance. “You are standing in my way.”

“I will do more than stand in your way, demon,” she said angrily, her accent getting slightly stronger as she spoke. “I am Lemartia, Chaplain of the Eyes of Solamina. I will be your death.”

And with that, she charged…

***

Author's Notes:

Slightly shorter one, but here it is :-) With thanks as ever to my team for their support.

Before the Dawn

***

“In the words of the man Elliot's generation… come at me!”
The Avatar, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Command Post Majestic. 14:42

The Avatar ducked and dodged. His opponent was fast, as he had expected. She was more skilled, more cautious, than the False Alicorns he had fought before. No doubt, she was older, had had more time to become accustomed to her form. The circlet was a mark of rank, a rank achieved only after having proved herself.

The weapon she wielded was an elegant maul, both ends topped with spiked balls designed to pierce and crush at once. The weapon seemed to be wreathed in an aura of its own even as she used her magic to spin and block with it, and he found himself - for a moment - hard pressed to keep the weapon from making contact.

“You are the demon who has slain so many of my people?!” she bellowed, a confident grin on her face. “You’re pathetic!”

“No,” he replied simply. “I am merely patient.”

He blocked a particularly vicious blow, snarling slightly, before pushing backwards, forcing Lemartia to step back. He followed through with a heavy overhand blow that she was hard pressed to block, her face betraying the strain the attack was causing.

“I have killed many False Alicorns today,” he said quietly. “You do not have to join them.”

“I am a creature of duty, demon,” she hissed. “I do not expect a monster born of human sorcery to understand that.”

She threw a spell at him, the flash of light hitting him in the face. He staggered back, feeling his skin blister, but he was already healing. He grimaced at the pain, before looking up at Lemartia. She had taken to the skies, her eyes blazing. Her horn began glowing again, and a flash of magic bolted towards the Avatar. He held up a hand, and a shield of golden energy appeared, the blast impacting on it with a concussive explosion. He was knocked back, the shield dissipating. Another spell impacted right after it, throwing him backwards, masonry shattering all around him.

He landed heavily, grimacing. This was not, in fact, how he had anticipated this battle going. He blinked, however, when he saw that Lemartia’s blast had inadvertently caused him to land near another of the guns. The crew had apparently already fled (no doubt his landing had scared them off - he smirked at the thought). With a grunt of effort, he grabbed the weapon, before hefting and throwing it in the direction of the Alicorn in the sky. He didn’t stop to see if the weapon had struck home - most of the remaining cannons had been abandoned as well, but they still needed to be taken out of commission. Another spell impacted near him, and he growled, before looking up at the sky to see the livid Lemartia.

“You will not escape me with tricks, demon!” she bellowed.

He held out his sword, and a bolt of magic slammed into her, sending her flying out of the sky, where she landed heavily. He turned away from her without another word - only for a heavy impact to hit him in the back. He landed face first in the dirt, grimacing, before pushing himself back to his feet. She was standing in front of him, a cut along her cheek, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Did you think you could kill me as easily as that?” she hissed. “Mine is the determination of my Mistress!”

“Indeed,” he said blandly. He raised his sword into a guard stance. “I fear you may need to demonstrate again. I’m not dead yet.”

She snarled. “With pleasure. I will enjoy this.”

“Do not speak too soon, Falsehood,” the Avatar said, a small smile gracing his features. “If you think you can slay me, though, then by all means… come at me.”

***

Point Gamma. 14:55.

The Nightmare was not proving easy to kill. Luna could keep lashing out with spells, but she would dodge them, or else block them with the corrupt power her Nightmare form granted her. The creature’s own attacks were blunt instruments - spells that broke masonry, smashed the ground, blasted through shields and threw the three warriors around - but even blunt instruments could be dangerous in the right hooves, and this creature’s hooves were skilled indeed.

Luna could tell that her allies were flagging. Lyra Heartstrings was breathing heavily, bleeding from a score of small wounds. Ser Eric’s armour was scorched and blackened, and his sword was nicked and scuffed. As she watched, Heartstrings threw another spell at the Nightmare, only for the thing’s shield to deflect it back at her, forcing her to take cover. Before Heartstrings could move again, another spell lashed towards her, blasting masonry and sending rubble flying - and then there was no sign of the mint-green mare.

“Lyra!” Ser Eric called out. He dashed to where she had been, moving rubble.

Luna growled, turning her attention back towards Cherubael, who was chuckling.

“It seems I won't even need to bury the traitor - this corrupt city has done it for me,” she gloated.

Luna’s horn flashed, throwing a spell at the corrupted Alicorn, but she deflected it lazily.

“Come on!” the Nightmare called. “Do not tell me this is all you've got, the great Nightmare Moo-?!”

Luna let out a battlecry, her horn glowing as she sent another spell at the Nightmare. Before it hit the creature, however, she had suddenly disappeared, Luna’s spell harmlessly flying into a wall and smashing it apart, before the Nightmare suddenly reappeared - right in front of her.

“Hello,” the creature grinned. Her horn flared, and Luna was blasted backwards, smashing into the ground heavily. There was an audible crack, and she let out a yell of pain.

“Princess Luna!” Eric called out, moving to her side. He held up his sword as Cherubael landed near him, her blades spinning in anticipation.

“You're one of the demon’s little pet things, aren't you?” she hissed at Eric, advancing on him. “I can smell his power on you. He's made you one of his little vassals, hasn't he?”

“I am Ser Eric Smith,” Eric said evenly, shifting his stance slightly as she advanced. “I am honoured to be the first Knight of Albion. I am a servant of the Avatar. I will not allow you to claim this field.”

Cherubael kept grinning, before suddenly lashing out. Eric blocked one blade, but had to duck to avoid being decapitated by another. He brought a hand up and a flash of golden magic slammed into Cherubael, but she withstood it, grimacing as she stepped back, before bringing both her blades down in a brutal overhead strike that Eric barely blocked. He grimaced as the strength of the blow forced him to his knees.

“Your kind is tenacious,” Cherubael whispered sibilantly, a new note in her expression - almost thoughtful. “I have fought many battles for Her Glorious Majesty, and yet here I am, pushed to the limits, corrupted because of your pitiful, stunted ape-race.”

She suddenly span around, kicking Eric backwards. He skidded and rolled along the broken ground, letting out a grunt of pain.

“This war is breaking us all,” the Nightmare whispered. “Little Seraphia, far from where she was born. Dead now, buried, broken, replaced. I had thought ascending would make me a God, and bring me closer to Her perfection, but instead all it did was cast me deeper into hell.”

“Do you expect me to pity you?!” Eric snapped at her, getting to his feet and bringing his sword up.

“No, human,” she replied, and her wicked smile returned. “I expect you to beg.”

“Not happening,” Eric said, before he charged. He pushed his augmented body to the limit, the motors and servos of the Paladin armour groaning in protest as he swung his blade, slashing hither and thither. The Nightmare parried his blows casually, and he pushed harder, stabbing forward and then, when she parried the thrust, bringing his blade in an overhead arc. She blocked it casually, only for him to kick out, sending her stumbling back.

“Clever insect,” she congratulated.

Her horn glowed, and she sent a spell at him, but he rolled out of the way, before bringing his hand up, a flash of magic escaping and smashing into the Alicorn - who grunted and staggered, but frustratingly enough, neither moved nor died. Instead, her horn merely glowed again, and a shockwave of energy lashed out, blasting more masonry apart and throwing Eric backwards. He grunted in pain as he smashed into a wall, more servos whining in protest. He was fairly certain that, if he had still had his helmet, his HUD would have been telling him he should be dead.

Well, I was always stubborn, he thought grimly.

The Nightmare was scowling at him. “You certainly are persistent, but you will die here, human. You must know it, feel it in your aching muscles and your breaking weapons -”

She was cut off by a sudden splash of magic smacking into her shield, a shield she raised just in time. She stepped back, only for a second and then a third bolt of magic to smash into the shield, obliterating it in a flash of energy and then smashing into her and bearing her backwards into the crumbling remains of a building.

Princess Luna was scowling at the ruins. She was definitely injured - blood was leaking from a dozen small cuts, and now they did not seem to be healing - but she was grinning, as though she were filled with new enthusiasm.

“Ser Eric,” she called to him. “Find Lieutenant Heartstrings. Leave.”

Eric nodded. He could tell he was hardly going to be any more use here. He limped over to where he had seen Lyra, and to his relief saw a stirring mint-green form lying amongst the rubble. He picked her up with relative ease, before limping off in the direction of Point Alpha.

“So you send them off,” Cherubael said quietly to Luna. “Admirable loyalty, no doubt, but you realise that you’re only delaying the inevitable.”

Luna snorted, bringing her sword up. “Shut up and fight, monster.”

“Fine,” Cherubael replied with a malicious grin. “I was getting bored anyway.”

And then she dashed forward.

***

Command Post Majestic. 15:07.

Steadfast narrowed his eyes as the Pegasi scout he had sent returned, looking breathless. The sounds of fighting from nearby had hardly been encouraging, and the old soldier had been torn between wanting the news to be good so they could advance and wanting it to be bad, so they could pull out.

“Well?” he asked.

“Sir,” the scout said, catching his breath. “The - the demon thing is fighting Chaplain Lemartia. Most of the guns have already been destroyed, but -”

Steadfast held up a hoof. “Point taken.”

He scowled, turning back to the formations of troops. Bad news, then. The troops he was left with were already shaken, not to mention tired and battered. They had been in this accursed city for too long, and now there was a demon fighting a False Alicorn (that was the term he was sticking to, newfangled religious doctrine be damned).

“Well?” Sunny Days asked. “What the buck are we supposed to do?”

Golden Lock looked from Sunny Days to Steadfast. “Surely we should stand and fight?”

“And do what? Die pointlessly?” Sunny Days snapped. “We’re done!”

“Quiet!” Steadfast snapped. “All of you, keep formation.”

He paused, trying to think what the best course of action was. What would old General Steelblood have done, back in the good old days when the worst thing the ponies of the Royal Guard had ever fought was Griffons?

What would he have done? Steadfast wondered. None of this seemed quite the old stallion’s style. He shook the thought aside.

“We’ve lost the guns, and we’ve not got the ponypower to take on the demon,” he finally decided. “There’s nothing more we can do. We have our assigned evac points - let’s use them.”

“Sir?” one of the other Guards said. “That’s -”

“You’ve been given an order!” snapped Golden Lock, to Steadfast’s surprise. “We do as ordered!”

Steadfast nodded to the young stallion, before looking to the rest of the group. “Alright - move out! Evac point! Spellcasters to the front of the formation, power up!”

Ponies quickly shuffled about as Unicorns moved to the front of the formation. Shields were generated and raised and the regiment marched away from the river. The air was filled with uncertainty and shame as the ponies realised they had failed.

***

The Avatar kicked out, sending another arcgun spinning away, dented and broken to crash onto the ground. As he pirouetted on the kick, he brought his blade up to block another of Lemartia’s strikes. She was persistent and skilled - her strikes were blunt and unfinessed, a side effect of her chosen weapon, but she made up for it with grace and speed in her movements, dodges and kicks and blocks that were too fast for him to dodge. As he stepped back, she kicked out again, sending him stumbling back, and she followed this with a spinning swing of her mace that he had to jump back to dodge.

He brought his blade up, blocking another strike, before pushing back and lashing out, nicking her cheek. She scowled, but simply pressed on again, forcing him back. As he blocked and dodge, he brought his blade around in an arc, a flash of energy leaping from it towards the last gun on the field, melting the thing into slag and burning wood.

With a yell of frustration, she threw a spell at him that slammed into his shoulder, sending him spinning. He landed heavily, but pushed himself off of the ground immediately, just in time to avoid her mace slamming into the ground where his head had been a moment before. He brought his blade down hard in an overhead strike and she blocked it, glaring at him.

“You cannot avoid your death forever,” she hissed.

“I do not need to,” he said grimly. “Your guns are broken, and your armies have retreated.”

It took her a minute to realise that he was right. She could not see any of the soldiers who had manned this position, and though there were some bodies, there were not nearly enough to account for the forces that had been stationed here. The guns, meanwhile, were in ruins - he had struck out at them where opportunities had presented themselves, destroying them one by one. Now, it was just the two of them.

“I will still kill you,” she promised, pushing him back. To her surprise, however, he held out a hand to stop her.

“Enough,” he said quietly. “Your forces are defeated on this field, Lemartia. You do not need to die too.”

She scoffed at that, bringing her weapon up in a guard again.

“You think I will run from you?” she asked, her accent sounding strained, not unlike an Appleoosan accent (at least, the Avatar thought it was Appleoosan).

“I think you will not throw your life away in vain,” the Avatar replied quietly. “I would hope that you would not throw your life away in vain.”

Lemartia narrowed her eyes. “This is a trick. You will try to slay me when my back is turned.”

“No trick, Alicorn,” the Avatar said quietly. “You and I are done. I have won, you have lost. Your death would be pointless now.”

She took a step back. “If I leave here now, it will be my personal pleasure to seek you out and slay you when next we meet in battle.”

“Indeed,” the Avatar said quietly. “I would expect nothing less.”

She snorted. “This is not the end, demon. You may triumph on this field for a day, but I have fought your power - and you are nothing compared to the power of my mistress. On the day she comes forth to slay you, you will be as dust in the wind before her.”

“Begone, Alicorn,” the Avatar growled, waving his hand in a dismissive notion. “Before I change my mind.”

In a flash of light, she had teleported away. The Avatar closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and looking around. The guns were silenced, and the enemy were routed.

With a soft exhale, the armour and cloak dissolved, and there was left only David Elliot, his body drenched in sweat. He brought a hand up to his nose, scowling at the red blood that covered the back of his palm.

“Well,” he said softly. “Shit.”

He began limping off in the direction of St Paul’s. There was a lot to do. His mind drifted back in the direction of Lemartia’s parting words.

“You will be as dust in the wind to her.”

He grimaced, wiping more blood from his nose and coughing slightly. The worst part was, she might have been right. Against young False Alicorns, with less experience, less practice in their new forms and less raw power, he had managed well, with help from Luna and his other allies. But even then, he had taken hits, had been knocked off guard. Against Lemartia, he had been harder pressed still.

What happens when I finally do meet Solamina?

***

Point Gamma. 15:35.

For Princess Luna, this duel had become almost like a rote repetition of movement, over and over again, each move countered perfectly by her opponent. She would swing, the Nightmare would block, she would thrust, her opponent would parry and riposte and Luna, in turn, would block, before throwing a spell at her foe that she, in turn, would block with a shield.

The Nightmare thrust forward and Luna parried, before riposting in turn, forcing her foe to step back. With a growl Cherubael threw a spell, then another spell, both impacting on Luna’s hastily erected shield. Luna closed her eyes, concentrating, and a massive shockwave emanated from her, blasting the Nightmare back.

“Come on,” Luna whispered, pushing forward and bringing her sword up. “Come on!”

She threw a concussive spell at her foe, though the Nightmare managed to deflect it, the powerful spell destroying another wall in this already obliterated street. Masonry showered them as Cherubael swung her cruel blades down, trying to surprise Luna, who hastily brought her blade up to block the blows. She threw another spell quickly, but Cherubael blocked that too.

“Is this it?” the Nightmare pondered aloud. “I’m almost disappointed.”

Her horn glowed, and a magical shockwave lashed out, blasting apart what little remained of the street surrounding the two. Luna’s shield evaporated, and she brought her sword up, blocking a thrust and parrying a hack, before stepping back as her enemy pressed her advantage.

With a cry, she blocked another blow, only for one of the Nightmare’s cruel blades to pierce her side.

“Ah!” she cried out, grimacing.

“YES!” Cherubael yelled, exultant. He brought her other blade up, above her head, in an arc designed to cut through Luna’s throat. Narrowing her eyes, Luna concentrated.

Her horn flared, suddenly sending her own shockwave out that forced the Nightmare off balance. Tearing the cruel blade from her side, Luna dropped it to the floor and advanced, her body wreathed in a dark blue aura of power as she pushed her body to its ultimate limits. She thrust forward, and her enemy parried, but this gave Luna the chance to spin and kick her in the face. The Nightmare stumbled, and Luna brought her blade back and stabbed forward, cutting through the Alicorn’s chestplate.

Cherubael’s eyes widened in shock. Her remaining blade dropped from her grip, and her jaw slackened.

“But…” she said quietly, her eyes widening further, “I… I am… Death…”

She slowly slumped to the floor, her wide eyes still staring up at Luna, a questioning gaze in them. Luna met them unflinching, and retracted her blade.

“Sleep well, Cherubael,” she said quietly.

She exhaled. The battle was done - she could see no more enemies, and the sounds of battle were dying off. She winced, her injuries catching up to her. She didn’t feel strong enough to use healing magic on them - she had used a great deal of power on her opponent.

A little pain is good for you, mother used to say, she remembered with a grim smile. Reminds you you’re alive.

Well, she felt alive right now. In pain, tired, and feeling a sense of nausea as she realised just how low this other Equestria had sunk - using Falsehood Alicorns, even Nightmares - but definitely, terribly alive.

Her heart sank as she looked up at the sky, where clouds of smoke polluted the already blue-tinted skyline. A horrible thought crossed her mind, that all of this had just been one battle. All of these abominations, weapons and soldiers and all of this death...

This is only the beginning.

***

Author's Notes:

Hey again, guys. Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, and apologies that it's again a shorter one, but hopefully we'll start to pick up in terms of update speed from here on in :-)

Cheers,

Jed.

Interlude: Feel Fear

***

“Let me in… and I will make everything perfect once again.”
The Darkness, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Canterlot never changed.

It was almost reassuring in a way that the palace was exactly the same as it had always been, but at the same time it was not. Discord could have lived with it if the palace’s decor had become dark and gothic and overtly evil, if soldiers in black armour with glowing eye holes had marched all over the place like evil automata, if ponies in shackles had been shuffling along the roads surrounding it.

Instead… Canterlot was normal. It was more than normal: it was cheery. Ponies still talked and laughed in the streets - albeit slightly more ponies than before. Shops still sold produce and luxuries, albeit ponies sometimes exchanged ration tokens instead of bits. The odd poster with a white-armoured Guardspony promised to save Equestria from the enemies of the Empress, but they were few and far between and as prone to being ignored as any other paraphenalia.

This place was just like home.

That's what makes it scarier, Discord thought quietly.

He was invisible as he walked around the city - he didn't like being invisible. He liked being big and loud, changing things as much as possible, being fun and kooky and weird. However, though very few ponies would have believed it from him, he did practice the virtue of restraint. Occasionally.

He had come here to learn about Astra Solamina Maxima. He had already felt an unsettling pit forming in his stomach when he thought of her, something like his twelfth sense going off, but he still needed to know for sure. His Celestia had embroiled them in a war with her now - he had (from a certain point of view) already helped her dispatch soldiers to help the embattled humans.

Now he just needed to know. To know what his senses were trying to warn him about.

The palace interior was no different, either: it was just like walking through the palace he had just left, except perhaps a tiny bit emptier. There were no visitors. A few guards wandered around, but there was no sign of Luna, no sign of Twilight Sparkle…

And then he arrived, invisible and intangible, at the throne room.

She was standing by a window, pensive and silent. She wore golden battle-armour and a glaive was held at her side, but apart from that she looked no different than the Celestia he had left behind. He wondered precisely what had happened to her to make her do what he knew she had. Some war he had missed, or…?

“Hello.”

He paused, his eyes widening in shock. Solamina had spoken. He blinked, trying to relax. She couldn't have been talking to him. She couldn’t have been. It was impossible. He was powerful enough to hide himself from anyth-

“I can’t see you, and you’re clearly trying very hard to not be sensed in any way,” she said quietly, cutting off his train of thought. “So much so that I don’t even know exactly where you are. But you are close, that much I know for certain.”

He didn’t move. He felt an irrational urge to run.

“Nonetheless,” she continued, “you do not need to be afraid. You are a stranger to this palace, after all… at least, this version of this palace.”

How? How can she know these things? Alicorn or not, Celestia is in no way powerful enough to -

“You must be wondering how I am able to do these things,” she added, still not turning. “Surely, you are thinking, she is not powerful enough to see through my defences, to scry past my shields.”

She turned, and she stared right at him.

“You're wrong,” she said, her voice taking on an odd tinge. “Whatever you thought I was, I am more. I have grown. You have not.”

Discord stumbled backwards, desperately trying not to panic. He knew what this was - he knew all too well.

She gave him a vicious grin.

“You are afraid, aren't you? I can feel it. Your terror permeates the air.” her expression shifted into a mocking sympathetic simper. “It's alright, there's nothing to be ashamed of. It is only natural to feel fear.”

It can't be that. Please don't let it be that.

“I grant you one chance to leave,” Solamina said with an unsettling smile. “If we meet again, however, you will be destroyed. Begone.”

And Discord ran. He ran as far away as he could, not caring how many dimensions he ran through, not caring how much dimensional noise he made between the worlds. He ran until he was outside Fluttershy’s house in his home dimension, and he simply slumped to the ground, eyes wide.

We are all going to die.

Author's Notes:

Hey all :-)

With this Interlude setting up Astra Solamina's darker secrets, the next arc will concern the diplomatic efforts back on Equus.

Cheers, all

Jed.

Council of War

***

“This war is an abomination, and this Solamina a mockery of everything we hold dear.”
Princess Celestia, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Canterlot Staging Area. May 7th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Celestia watched the last of the troops file through the portal, the shimmering gateway still looking as stable as it had when she had arrived, for which she was grateful.

“Right,” Discord said, cracking his knuckles. “This baby should stay open as long as you need.” He glanced back at her. “That is, of course, assuming that you need it, still?”

“We will leave it open for them,” Celestia said grimly. “I want to have an avenue of retreat open should it become necessary.”

“Alright,” Discord said, nodding. “Shouldn't have any problems. With the gateway at least - can’t guarantee they won’t need to retreat.”

“Such are the fortunes of war,” Celestia said grimly. “But I have confidence in Luna’s abilities as a commander.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Discord said with a sigh. He looked troubled. “So now what?”

“Now, we wait,” Celestia replied quietly. “Or rather, you do.”

Discord frowned, looking faintly insulted. “You want me to just stay here and… what, portal-watch?”

“Yes, at least for the moment,” Celestia said, looking at him. “You will wait here until a cohort of 7th Day Guard comes to guard the portal.”

Discord clucked his tongue. “Right, and after I’ve played portal-watcher for you?”

“After that, there is much work to be done,” Celestia said softly. “Tomorrow at noon you will join me in the council of war.”

Discord folded his arms. “A ‘council of war’, huh? And you suppose I’m just going to hop to, come when you call, like a good little pony?”

Celestia gave him a look. “Discord.”

“I’m not your servant, Celestia,” the Draconequus said with a snort. “I’m helping you. Not obeying orders.”

He snapped a talon, and was suddenly dressed in what might have been Guardspony armour, except built for his form.

“I need you to come tomorrow,” Celestia said, frowning. “There is much we need to decide. And frankly, this is not a time for posturing, Discord.”

He sighed. “No. It isn't. Thanks to you.”

He vanished in a flash before Celestia could question the meaning of his words. She sighed.

“Alright, don't wait for the 7th Day Guard then,” she said irritably. She still didn’t quite know how to get a read on Discord. He acted as he willed, and he willed… strangely.

***

Canterlot Library.

There was a tension on the air, more so than usual. Though nopony wanted to discuss it, soldiers of Equestria were out there, right now, dying on another world, fighting against mares and stallions who might as well have been themselves. Might even literally have been themselves.

“And we’re just sat here,” Applejack said softly. “Waitin’ to hear what good we can do.”

“If there is any,” Rarity said quietly, her nose still deep in books of military apparel. Lyra was sat nearby, her eyes roaming over her copy of Ancient Myths of the Aquilans.

“There's something,” Rainbow Dash said insistently. “There's always something.”

“You say that, but it sounds more like platitudes than truth,” Rarity said grimly. “None of us are warriors, none of us are trained for combat. That's a pretty big hindrance.”

“Yeah, we’re not trained, not yet,” Rainbow agreed impatiently. “But if we -”

“Standard training for the guards lasts six weeks,” Twilight said quietly. “And with the state the human world must be in, we can't guarantee it’ll last that long.”

Rainbow growled. “So what? We don't do anything? We sit back and let the Guard do it all?”

“I-I’m sure Twilight doesn't mean it like that,” Fluttershy said quietly.

“Although I can see why she might,” Rarity put in. “This is different to the usual things we deal with. Pest problems or single individual threats we can handle - but we’re the Elements of Harmony, not of Warfare. Our skills lie elsewhere.”

“That’s true,” Applejack said, nodding. “But Ah can see why Rainbow don't like the idea of doin’ nothin’. Ah don't like it neither.”

“It is fortunate then,” a voice put in from the doorway, “that you will not be doing nothing.”

Princess Celestia stepped into the room, her expression grim.

“Princess!” Twilight said. “Is there any news?”

“Our forces have passed into the human’s world,” Celestia told her. “We do not expect to hear back for some time.”

Twilight and the others exchanged glances. None of them were entirely happy.

“But now there are different matters afoot,” Celestia continued, her tone grim. “Twilight: tomorrow at noon, you will be among those attending a council of war, along with several other important figures in our immediate plan of action.”

Twilight nodded mutely, and Celestia smiled.

“I knew I could count on you, dear Twilight,” she said quietly. She turned to the others. “Be assured: this will not be a simple time for any of us, but together, I am confident we will prevail.”

She turned and left. A moment passed, and Pinkie whistled.

“She’s good,” she said quietly, smiling. “She’s really good. I think she almost believed herself.”

Twilight scowled at Pinkie. “She was telling the truth. She’s confident.”

Pinkie’s smile faded slightly. “Yeah… maybe.” She took a breath. “Anyway. You've got a council thingy to go to tomorrow.”

“A council of war,” Twilight corrected gently, frowning. “I've gotta say, of all the things I ever thought I would be at…”

“If you're going to a council of war,” Rarity said with a frown, “you'll need to be properly dressed.”

“Rarity,” Applejack said tiredly, “Ah’m not sure -”

“It's important to look the part when one is entering matters of great importance!” Rarity snapped. She calmed. “Your measurements haven't changed, have they, dear?”

“Uh, no…” Twilight said with a frown.

“Alright, I’ll throw something together for you,” Rarity smiled. “Want you to look your best for something important.”

Twilight smiled back. Whatever terrors awaited, she could at least be grateful that she would be standing alongside her friends in the days to come.

***

War Room, Canterlot Palace, Canterlot. May 8th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

It had been over two hundred years since the War Room of Canterlot Palace had been opened up and used for its original purpose: the war between the Equestrian Diarchy and the New Aquilan Empire (which had not lasted over-long, but long enough to cause problems). The slick, evocative paint-scheme (rust-red and ivory) and the ancient battle-standards that adorned the walls certainly made one feel like this was a place where the art of conflict was taken seriously, at least.

For Princess Celestia, this place brought with it a slew of memories, both good and bad. Many generations of the Blood family, her nephews and nieces, had commanded armies from this room, and many warriors brave and true had died because of the decisions made here.

She was clad in ancient armour, the Astra di Irae floating by her side, ready to be used at a moment's notice. She was already feeling a new wave of confidence. She'd received word from Luna that the initial battle had ended in victory. Soon, envoys would be dispatched to speak with her, to confirm the alliance they were forging.

We have begun this game well, she found herself thinking grimly, but there is still all to play for, and these are but the opening gambits.

Waiting for the Princess was the council of war she had assembled: a collection of ponies who would help her in this time of conflict. Captain Shining Armour, still nominally the “First Captain of the Royal Guard” even though he spent most of his time as the Prince Consort of the Crystal Empire, stood in his purple-tinted armour, grim faced and stoic. Near him, her lips thin and her eyes full of worry, was Cadence - she wore glimmering silver armour, and girt at her side were a pair of slim and elegant crystal axes - the Warsongs, Irae and Cadenza, heirlooms of her ancestral house. Even as elegant as they were, they seemed oversized and, somehow, wrong when sheathed at the young Alicorn’s side.

Cadence is a mare of love and peace, Celestia thought grimly, and they are tools of war.

Discord stood nearby, his paws on his hips, the Draconequus lacking the same sort of regal attire as Cadence or Shining Armour, but making up for it in the solemn, entirely uncharacteristic expression he wore. His arms were folded, and he looked surprisingly sullen. The only hint to the formality of the occasion he had donned was a strange red and black shirt with a small silver arrowhead symbol on it.

“The only uniform I've ever encountered worth wearing,” he'd said when asked. “I don't have any right to it, or so I was always told, but if everypony else gets to play dress up, I do.”

Twilight Sparkle was there too: for the sake of the occasion she wore a formal, military-cut dress her friend Rarity had made in short order for her to wear to this occasion. Her face was full of worry at the events that were happening. Celestia felt a pang in her heart at seeing her faithful student here: she was so young…

Is she any younger than we were? she thought to herself, thinking back to the first time that she and Luna had fought, millennia ago. The two of them had fought wars all of their lives, ever since they were children. Their mother had been a soldier, and their father a Prince and a Knight of the old Unicorn kingdom. Though war was almost some stranger, some boogeyman to be feared by the ponies of this time (save those who lived in the disputed colonial territories), to Luna and Celestia it had been life, much as neither of them spoke of that time anymore.

We are old and they are young - they are children, but all children grow up. I would not have had it be now… but I will not hide from a battle that is as much mine as anypony's.

Once everypony was settled in, Celestia began.

“I now declare the council of war in session,” she said gravely. “May our choices in the hours and days to come be wise.”

“Your highness,” Cadence said formally. She bowed her head. “I, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, swear the service of the Crystal Empire to your command. My armies are yours - we go where you will.”

“Thank you Cadence,” Celestia said, bowing in return. “I accept your fealty humbly. I only regret that you must stand with us in a time of conflict.”

Shining Armour saluted. “It is my honour to serve once more in the armies of Equestria, your highness.”

“And our honour to have you at the head of our armies, Prince-Captain,” Celestia replied. “Be assured - this will be a war the likes of which we have not seen in many years.”

“Whatever comes, I will serve,” Shining Armour promised.

Twilight merely bowed, but her nervousness was palpable.

“My faithful student,” Celestia said with a smile. “The others are elsewhere in the castle, are they not?”

“Yes, your highness - still researching in the library,” Twilight said quietly. “I… didn't know…”

“You didn't know what your task here would be,” Celestia finished. Twilight nodded. “I understand - needless to say, the Elements of Harmony are a chief part of our arsenal: one of our greatest defenses.”

“Greater than you think,” Discord muttered, but everypony ignored him.

“Your presence may well decide the fate of this conflict,” Celestia said.

“I'm… honoured,” Twilight said after a moment, bowing once again but with an uncertain look on her face.

Celestia threw Discord a glance. He raised an eyebrow archly.

“If you expect me to play this game of 'bowing-scraping-kissing-flank', you're neighing up the wrong metaphor,” he said. “Then again, you think this war is actually a good idea, so I guess this is your week of stupid.”

“A 'good idea' is a very vague definition,” Celestia commented with a wry grin. “We are about to go into battle against a tyrant who is an insult to us and a threat to harmony. I would call that a 'good idea', for the sake of being able to sleep at night knowing we did everything we could to help.”

“Well I wouldn't call it a good idea, morality be damned,” Discord replied, scowling. “You're up against armies equipped for wars you've never dreamed of. The things that are waiting there… her... the fact that you're not currently quivering in your metaphorical boots is simultaneously proof that you're brave and proof that you have no idea.”

“Then enlighten us, Discord,” Cadence said mockingly. “Tell us what we are about to go to war against, if we’re supposed to be ‘quivering’.”

Discord scowled at her. “Unlike you, Cady-Wady, I’ve been there. I know what Solamina is, what she’s built.”

The seriousness of his tone gave even Celestia pause.

“I don't understand,” Twilight said. “She’s just an evil Celestia, isn't she?”

Discord sighed. “Basic rule of parallel universes - there is a point of divergence, a place in history where one of the two Celly’s in question when left and the other went right off the deep end.”

Celestia frowned. “And you know what ‘threw her off the deep end’?”

“I do now,” Discord said without elaborating.

“And?” Shining Armour asked. “What do you know?”

Discord closed his eyes. “That Solamina is not Celestia. At least, not just her. Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Cadence asked with narrowed eyes, but Discord didn't answer, his expression uncharacteristically morose.

“If she's not Celestia anymore, how is she still the ruler of Equestria?” Shining Armour asked. “How have our counterparts not -?”

“Deposed her?” Discord asked hollowly. “Well, your counterpart, along with a good eighty percent of the existing Guard contingent, were subject to a ceremony of renewing your oaths of loyalty, a ceremony that prevents your counterpart from even considering treason. And as nice as it would be to presume that most of Equestria is ‘too good’ to serve a Tyrant, it's a fantasy. Those ponies who turned on Celestia when she became Solamina are a minority. Most ponies stayed loyal.” He turned to Cadence. “Including your counterpart, Cady-wady. She's as much a Solaminan Empire loyalist as you are a kisser of Celly’s flank.”

Cadence’s expression turned cold. “That… that isn't…”

“That doesn't seem possible,” Shining Armour said with confidence. “Cadence wouldn't support a tyrant, even if the rest of Equestria might.”

“Celestia’s done a very good job by most ponies for the last eleven millennia,” Discord pointed out. “So good that it takes a lot to shake a pony’s faith in her. Anypony’s faith. Especially when Solamina has a propaganda machine. Besides which, Captain Shiny Helmet, Cadence is loyal to family. Celestia’s the oldest member of the family she’s got - one of the only members that Cadence still has.”

Shining Armour’s face became less certain.

“Whether she is truly ‘me’ or not is irrelevant,” Celestia said quietly. “We are now committed to engage her forces in battle. Captain Armour - what is the state of our current forces as you deem them?”

Shining Armour whistled through his teeth. “We’ve been in an unprecedented time of peace these last few years, your highness. Recruitment has been low, the colonial borders have been quiet… but what forces we have are at the top of their game.”

“The Crystal Empire’s militia has been training with Guards that Shining brought with us to the Empire,” Cadence added. “And there were a few things we’ve managed to repurpose: armouries, etc. Still, I'm afraid the Empire can't really bring that much to the table at present.”

“It all depends on what we’re fighting,” Shining said with a thoughtful frown. “Discord?”

“An Equestria built for war with all of Equus,” Discord replied grimly. “To put it mildly. She's got millions more Guard than this Equestria, and that's leaving aside specialised weapons: Super-Zeppelins, Crystalline Golems, Solar Idols, the Sunstorm project, the False Alicorns -”

“The what?!” Twilight asked, leaning forward. “What did you just say?”

Discord grimaced. “I suspect Lulu will be able to fill you in. She's fought some.”

“False Alicorns...” Celestia whispered, her eyes wide. “By Epona Ascendant, she's insane. She… she’s messed with the forces that create Alicorns themselves?”

“She has,” Discord said. “Honestly I don't know why you're surprised. You know the power of Alicorns. Wouldn't you want a small army of them?”

“I know what happens when you force ascension,” Celestia growled. “And I thought even a Tyrant would know that you do not force ascension.”

Discord shrugged. “She found a way to make the transformation stable. What happened to Divine Right won't happen to these things.”

“Divine Right?” Twilight asked, frowning. “He… was the last ruler of the Adamantine kingdom, right?”

“Many, many years ago, before the first Discordant Age,” Celestia said tiredly. “He was a king who tried to force ascension upon himself. The process did not complete properly. He destroyed himself, his body unable to contain the magic he was trying to harness.” She sighed. “If Solamina has somehow perfected an artificial ascension…”

“With that, and with the increased militarisation Discord suggests,” Shining Armour said slowly, “I’m… struggling to see us being able to win a decisive military victory. At least, not without massive drafting and building, both of which would still require time…”

“… that we don't have,” Celestia finished with a sigh. “Alright then. I shall investigate our options. In the meantime, Cadence and Shining Armour - you must prepare the bulk of our forces for this conflict.”

Shining Armour saluted, and Cadence bowed.

“Twilight,” Celestia continued, “you and the other Element Bearers must continue your research for the moment. Any insight you may gain would be worthwhile.”

“Yes, your highness,” Twilight said with a slight bow. “But… I don't know what we’re looking for yet.”

Celestia sighed. “At this point, anything that might provide insight. Discord has brought a hint that this Solamina is not what she was - perhaps you'll find an explanation.”

“You might,” Discord agreed unexpectedly. “I'm gonna go poke that portal, make sure it's still going strong. Then… I dunno, I'll reconnoiter.”

“That idea has merit,” Celestia said diplomatically. “But you and I will talk soon.”

Discord let out a soft grunt, and then he disappeared in a flash.

“I'll begin overseeing preparations, your highness,” Shining Armour said with a bow, and he and Cadence left. Twilight bowed again, and moved to go as well.

“Twilight, one last thing,” Celestia said, and the young mare stopped. She turned to look at the Princess. “Can you send Ms Heartstrings to speak with me in here, please?”

Twilight nodded. “Of course, your highness.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Celestia said with a small smile.

With that, Twilight left, and Celestia was left contemplating her next move carefully.

***

Lyra blinked. “The Princess wants to speak to me?”

“That's what she told me,” Twilight said with a nod.

“Did she say why?” Lyra asked, frowning in confusion. Had she done something wrong? Or was it something to do with the human?

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Twilight said with a small smile. “Not to worry, though. I'm sure it'll be fine, though. Maybe she has something to discuss with you about the human.”

“I was just thinking that,” Lyra said thoughtfully, “but you had more contact with him than me.”

“That's true,” Twilight said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, then. Maybe she’s thought of something you can do?”

Lyra frowned slightly. “Or maybe she’s sending me home, because there is nothing I can do.”

“I'm sure that's not it,” Twilight said softly. “In any case, you'd better go now.”

“R-right,” Lyra said softly. She felt a sudden wave of trepidation.

I’ve learned so much about humans from this one specimen that I met, she thought mournfully. And they're in danger. I have to help them, somehow, don't I?

She trotted slowly from the library to the council chamber Twilight had directed her to, all the while fearing that she was about to be sent home, away from the chance to help save humans, away from the chance to learn about them…

And then she was standing in the chamber, watching the Princess as she sat at the table, going over paperwork. The Alicorn looked up, a smile upon her face.

“Hello, Ms Heartstrings,” she said quietly. “Or… do you prefer Lyra?”

“Um…” Lyra said, trying her best not to feel foolish. The fact was, she had spent more time in the presence of Princess Celestia for the last few days than she had in her entire life. In fact, she had never so much as been near her, let alone spoken to her. “Uh, Lyra will do fine, your highness.”

“Then Lyra it is,” Celestia smiled. “Welcome to the council chamber. I fear any joy at the historical significance of such a room is dampened somewhat by circumstance, but I hope one such as yourself can recognise some relics of our past.”

Can I! Lyra thought privately. This room had displays of tapestries in the Primatian style, paintings of battles she'd only heard rumours of, and there was a single signet ring in one glass display cabinet that Lyra could have sworn was made for a human hand.

“You wanted to speak with me, your highness?” she asked, trying to distract herself from this room.

“I did indeed, Lyra,” Celestia said with a wry smile, as though she knew what Lyra had been thinking. “I was wondering what you were planning to do.”

Lyra blinked. “Uh… well… I hadn’t really thought about it, I suppose.”

That was a lie. Half-cocked ideas about joining one of the expeditionary forces (by joining the army, she guessed) had already run through her head at least once or twice. The notion of going to an entirely different world, meeting humans, seeing how they lived their lives - even in the horrible world that she had heard about - was simply incredible.

“I see,” Celestia said knowingly, as though she already knew what Lyra had been thinking.

“But… but I want to do something to help,” Lyra continued. “To help the human, I mean.”

“Yes, Major Elliot,” Celestia said quietly. “Given what little we’ve learned, I do not blame you.”

“It's just…” Lyra said, sighing.

The Princess raised an eyebrow. “Just?”

“I… I don't know what I can do,” Lyra blurted out. “It's… it's a war, right? I don't know what I can do to help in a war, I'm not a soldier, I'm not…”

She trailed off, feeling silly for her outburst.

Celestia smiled indulgently. “I can understand that frustration. I used to be young and have my passions too - research, the art of duelling…”

Lyra smiled. “I guess I just want to do everything I can to help.”

“It’s with that in mind that I wanted to speak with you, actually,” Celestia said quietly. She stood up and paced around the room, looking at some of the artefacts. “You seem to know a great deal about other cultures of Equus.”

“A little,” Lyra said modestly.

Celestia narrowed her eyes playfully. “Then how would one address a Qilin ambassador?”

“As ‘ambassador’,” Lyra replied at once. “A Qilin is their role in life first. I don’t think anyone knows their true names save for their families and closest acquaintances, and even then I don’t think they use them that often…”

She trailed off, feeling faintly embarrassed, but Celestia was smiling at her.

“You truly are somewhat of an expert, aren’t you?” she asked.

Lyra mumbled something barely audible, feeling too embarrassed to really say anything.

“As it happens, I could use that expertise,” Celestia said. “With Luna gone, the time has come for me to go to Fairpoint.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. “Fairpoint?”

“You’ve heard of it, then?” Celestia asked.

“It’s the location of the ancient conclave of Fairpoint, isn’t it?” Lyra asked. “A completely neutral location that no one nation holds any claim over, right?”

“That is correct,” Celestia said with a smile. “Last used after the escalation of the last Griffon war, in order to renew the Fairpoint Conclave.” Her smile widened. “It is to Fairpoint that I must go.”

Lyra blinked. “You mean…”

“The clarion call of a few days ago was not merely a call to summon Equestria,” Celestia said solemnly. “It was a summons for the alliance of nations that was forged at Fairpoint. A summons that they will not dare fail to heed, for it is one of the gravest urgency.”

“So they’ll come to Fairpoint,” Lyra said quietly. “Griffons, Qilin…”

“Many different groups,” Celestia said. “I do not doubt there will be frayed tempers and much disagreement there, but if what we have heard is true, this Solamina’s Empire has already wrought devastation upon her Equus.” She sighed. “Our forces must band together in order to stop her.”

“A-and you want me to come with you?” Lyra asked.

“As part of the diplomatic function, yes,” Celestia said. “Few of my own diplomats study as extensively as you - they may know Griffon customs, may even know how to address Qilin, but Moles? Fenri? The many varied races of the Ayakashi? The horses of the Husianid Caliphate? No, few of them have knowledge that in depth, and we can't afford to offend any of these beings.”

Lyra nodded slowly. “Alright, your highness. Any way I can help, you can count on me.”

Celestia smiled. “Thank you, Lyra. Please go pack your things - we leave in two days.”

Lyra bowed and turned to go, already thinking of what she would need.

Well, she thought to herself quietly. I always said I wanted to get out there and see the world.

Author's Notes:

Hello again, guys :-)

Sorry it's been absolutely ages since I've updated. I've spent a good long time being beset by so much IRL crap it isn't even funny, never mind my personal slump after December. Nonetheless, here I am, back with the start of the next arc of Albion - "Alliances" will be split fairly evenly between Luna, now in charge of the Equestrian forces assisting Earth, and Lyra and Celestia as they brave the diplomatic hazards of the Fairpoint Conclave in order to better prepare for the war. There are a whole host of characters that I am very eager to introduce to you in the next few chapters, as well as some old favourites from the original Avatar of Albion that will be returning to the spotlight (spoiler warning: Grey Squadron, more of Hell Blazer, the Council, and more besides).

Here's hoping I'm able to find time to get the next chapter out fairly soonish. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Cheers, all.

Jed.

Aftermath

***

“I'd get plenty of sleep: you're gonna miss it.”
Errant Flight, The Avatar of Albion.

***

London. January 17th. 2032.

The skies were filled with ‘helicopters’, or at least that was what Princess Luna had been told they were called: it wasn't the oddest word she had heard in all her years, but it was certainly close. The strange things were carrying the injured and the dead to and from locations and ferrying in replacements.

Of course, Luna herself could be counted among the injured, she mused with a wince. She was limping, her side still hurting from the wounds she had sustained in battle against the Nightmare.

She shuddered as she thought of that twisted, broken creature, how it had seen her - or rather, seen Nightmare Moon - as some kind of precursor or role model. Her greatest shame had become a mark of the highest honour for a twisted religious cult.

Nonetheless, she felt a wave of relief still flowing over her as well. They had engaged the enemy, and despite the challenges that had been thrown their way, they had survived.

Thoughts of celebrating this victory had been quashed quite quickly, however, when Luna had been told of their casualties. Over a hundred dead in the first engagement, and many more maimed and injured. Commander Charlie Horse had looked nauseous as he stood among the wounded from his unit, checking on each of them individually. Luna wondered whether the Commander had ever truly faced anything like this before. Almost cruelly, she found herself wondering whether the young officer had even seen blood spilled before.

Equestria has not known war like this in years, she thought grimly to herself. The enemy have the advantage over us in this. They know this horror intimately, have become used to it. We have not. She sighed. We must adapt quickly if we’re to match them.

She sighed, shaking her head. “This isn't right.” Saying it felt like the only way to express herself. “How could this have happened?”

Nopony answered.

***

Lyra sighed as she went over the list of casualties. As expected, they were horrific: hundreds more dead and injured, much of the city turned from skeletal ruins to flat-out wasteland…

“Under the circumstances,” Ser Eric commented from next to her, his eyes closed and a soft glow encompassing much of his unarmoured body, “we didn't do too badly.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, before looking at him. “Should you be doing that?”

“It's bad for me in the long run,” Eric admitted, the glow subsiding, “but I'm an Iron Clad. There's not so many of us right now that we can afford for me to have a three month convalescence while I heal myself up the old-fashioned way.” He wiped a little trickle of blood from his nose. “A little nosebleed now is a price I'm willing to pay.”

“It's more than just a nosebleed,” Lyra pointed out, lowering her voice.

Eric shrugged. “I'll live?”

Lyra scowled at his flippancy. “You and David will both be the death of me, y’know?”

Eric smiled tightly. “How is he?”

Lyra glanced over to a nearby bed. David Elliot was laid out, one arm over his eyes, sleeping like a log. She sighed.

“He's exhausted,” she admitted quietly. “I don't know how much longer…”

Eric held up a finger. “Careful.”

Lyra nodded. She glanced around, making sure they were alone, before continuing. “I don't know how much longer he can go on.”

Eric nodded slowly. “Yeah. He has been… more fatigued recently.”

Lyra sighed. “Haven't we all.” She looked over the list. “You know what's scary?”

“Ghosts?” Eric asked with a sardonic smirk.

Lyra gave him a mock-glare. “I'm getting used to this. These casualties… they're insane. And I'm ok. Or almost ok. Like this is the new normal.”

“And has been for a while,” Eric said, his smirk disappearing. “I don't like it any more than you do, but it's not like we’ve got another choice.”

“I know,” Lyra said, her voice almost a whisper. “I just… I keep telling myself, this is how it is. I just can't quite bring myself to believe it, no matter how much I might be getting used to it. How did it come to this.”

“You shouldn't get used to it,” the voice of Elliot piped up, and the two of them looked to see him, still lying down with one arm over his eyes. “The minute you get used to it, you forget that life's not meant to be like this.” He lowered the arm and looked over to them, something that might have been attempting to be a reassuring smile on his face. “And it's not, you know. We’re fighting to save ourselves, but after this, I'd like to hope we’ll make a new world that's better.”

Lyra smiled. “You're right, I guess. Though it’s hard to believe there'll be a world after this.”

“Well, there'd better be,” Elliot said flippantly, putting his arm back over his eyes. “I’m still wanting to open that bookshop.”

Lyra snorted. “And if you do, I’ll be right there with you.”

Elliot peeked at her from under his arm. “Promise?”

Lyra looked away and said nothing, and with a smirk, Elliot put his arm back over his eyes.

***

Luna limped up the stairs of St Paul’s cathedral, frowning slight as she saw Charlie Horse motioning to troops to move this way and that. She saw one of the Starlit Towers her forces had brought, the great magical edifice standing strong amidst the ruin.

Ponies die but the Guard stands tall, she thought unbidden. It was an old saying, one of many. “And the mountains will break…”

“... before the Guard does,” a voice finished from next to her. She looked down, to see a green-coated Unicorn stallion directing troops. He saluted her. “Ma’am.”

She saluted back. “Guardspony…”

“True Grit, ma’am,” he replied. He winced. “Apologies. I just woke up from my injuries, needed to get back to it.”

“Thou should be resting,” Luna told him. “We won't get many more chances.”

True Grit smirked. “With all due respect ma’am, that's why I can’t rest.”

“Your highness!” Charlie Horse’s voice called across to her, and Luna turned to see the commander trotting in her direction.

She looked back to Grit, but he had already moved on. Luna sighed.

We have never deserved their devotion. How many brave soldiers like that, from the Thestral warriors who had fought at her back, to Celestia’s noble adjutant Twilight Star, had fought by her side over the course of these eleven millennia?

“Commander,” she said quietly to Charlie Horse, forcing her attention back to the present. “How go the efforts to reinforce this area?”

Charlie Horse looked over to troops wandering around. “Some of the troops are almost spell-shocked, your highness, and the truth is I don't blame them. This was a hard fight. Maybe the hardest in our times.”

Luna grimaced. “Yes. It was. But we have survived and triumphed over our enemies.”

“Yeah,” Charlie Horse said quietly, “I guess you're right, ma’am. Doesn't feel much like a triumph.”

Luna smiled hollowly. “None of them ever do, Commander. Not here, not now, not when thou art surrounded by…” She motioned around her. “This.”

Charlie Horse smiled back. “Well, maybe I’ll feel better when I’m home drinking this bucking horseapples away.”

Luna’s smile faded. “Thou wouldst not be the first to find such a solution.”

“And not the last, either, I’ll bet,” Charlie Horse chuckled. His expression soured. “Won't help though, will it? Never does. I've seen the sorts of ponies who…”

He trailed off, his eyes taking on a faraway look for a moment. Luna knew that look well - had seen it on a thousand ponies across thousands of years.

“Anyway,” he finally said. “These humans need us all at our best, right?”

“That they do, Commander,” Luna said with an approving nod. “That they do. These enemies are set on their annihilation.”

“Yeah,” Charlie Horse said, his expression drifting into thoughtfulness. “Hard to believe ponies are at this stage, though. I mean, we’re… we’re not aggressive, y’know?”

Luna nodded. “I know.”

“It’s like, every soldier I’ve had to train has started out thinking that they can’t kill,” Charlie Horse continued. “Not that they won’t, that they can’t. It’s not part of who and what they are. You have to break that out of them to even start… but these guys… they choose to kill, they choose to attack…”

“Whatever the cause, we will discern it as we fight,” Luna said, holding up a wing. “We can’t get too caught up in ‘why’, now.”

Charlie Horse sighed. “Alright, your highness.” He paused. “While I've got your attention, though, ma’am, there's something we’ve noticed among the enemy’s dead that bears bringing to your attention.”

Luna frowned. “Show me.”

Charlie Horse motioned for her to follow him, leading her over to a body in the white plate armour of the Ivory Guard. One of his soldiers was leaning over it, and he straightened as Luna approached.

“Your highness,” he said quietly. “This is one of the enemy’s casualties.”

He motioned to the flank of the pony, and Luna blinked.

“It's blank,” she said.

“That's right, ma’am,” Charlie Horse said. “So far I’ve had my troops clock two dozen or more of these blank-flanked Guardsponies, but I can't say what's caused it.”

Luna frowned. “Hast thou asked one of our hosts?”

Charlie Horse sighed. “They just said they were ‘convies’ or something. Didn't really have time to explain. Didn’t really seem to want to.”

Luna snorted. “They will make time for me.”

She turned and looked around, searching for a convenient soldier, before stopping one soldier, a beech-red Pegasus with goggles over his eyes.

“Soldier,” she said sharply. “I have a question.”

The Pegasus blanched at her approach. “P-Princess Luna, I wasn’t - that is, I -”

Luna held up a wing. “Calm down, soldier.” She paused. “What’s your name?”

“E-Errant Flight, ma’am,” the Pegasus said. “Uh, I mean… your highness. Sorry. I, uh, wasn’t expecting you. Uh, I mean, none of us were…”

“Breathe, soldier,” Luna said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I had some questions.”

“Uh, right,” Errant Flight said. “I, uh, should fetch Lyra or Hell Blazer, they’re better with questions.”

“If I wanted to find Operative Heartstrings, I would have,” Luna said, a sardonic edge to her tone. “After the battle she and I have just survived, I suspect she needs rest.”

“Yeah,” Errant Flight said slowly. “I… had heard something about that.” He took a deep breath. “So, uh, what is it you want to know?”

***

When Hell Blazer and Doctor Hooves finally showed up to speak with Elliot, he’d pulled himself into a sitting up position, though he had his head in his hands and was still groggy.

“So,” Hell Blazer began without preamble, “you still alive in there?”

Elliot chuckled. “Barely. I had a time of it, let me tell you.”

“So I hear,” Hell Blazer said quietly. “False Alicorns, wrecking an artillery position… it’s been a hell of a day for you, huh?”

“A hell of a day,” Elliot repeated tiredly. “Hell of a day for all of us.”

“Seconded,” Eric said from where he was sitting, smiling ironically.

“Not even gonna start with you,” Hell Blazer said, glaring at him and Lyra. “What’s this I hear about a whole new kind of F-A?”

Lyra groaned. “Let’s not, and say we did, ok? Me and Eric barely survived that whorse.”

Elliot frowned as the Doctor ran the light of his screwdriver over him. “You alright there, Doc?”

“Don’t call me ‘Doc’,” the Doctor said sternly, before giving Elliot a more sympathetic look. “I’m checking the status of your cells.”

“Let me throw a wild guess here,” Elliot said, smiling again. “They’re well and truly effed up.”

“You shouldn’t joke about that,” Lyra put in.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “They are not in a good state, though fortunately for you, it’s not quite at the stage of being ‘well and truly…’” He coughed. “In any case…”

“David Elliot!” a strident voice called out. “David Elliot!”

Elliot frowned, sitting a little straighter, as Princess Luna strode towards him, her expression thunderous.

He stood up as she reached him, getting almost nose to nose with him. “Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me.”

Elliot swallowed- despite being roughly the same height, Luna was still intimidating. He couldn’t imagine being a pony facing her wrath.

“You’ll have to be a little more specific,” he said quietly.

“Why? Are you hiding any other abominations from me?” Luna asked in a hissing voice. “These ‘Convies’. I’ve just been told what they are. What they were.”

Elliot pursed his lips. “I see.”

“They… what’s been done to them…” Luna said, her tone wavering, her eyes full of horror. “They’re your people! All of them!”

“Yes,” Elliot said quietly. “They were.”

Luna’s horrified expression didn’t change, but for a moment it seemed like she didn’t know what to say. At this moment, a beech-red Pegasus ran up to them.

“Sorry, David, I couldn’t…” He paused, looking between Luna and Elliot. “Ah, horseapples.”

Elliot looked at him and gave him a smile. “Don’t worry, Errant. I get the feeling this would’ve happened one way or the other.” He looked at Luna. “You’re right, I should probably have told you about this.”

Luna said nothing, though her eyes narrowed angrily.

“It’s… just, that there’s a lot that’s difficult to say,” Elliot said. “How are we supposed to bring up ‘Oh, these used to be human but they were changed against their will, or with the threat of death’?”

“Instead, you’ve let me and my soldiers kill your people,” Luna said icily.

“They’re not, though,” Elliot said sadly. “Not anymore.”

“Can they not be saved?” Luna asked.

Elliot shook his head. “We’ve tried. All we can do - with difficulty - is break the hold on them -”

“Which sounds like a good alternative to killing them!” Luna cut in.

“And leaves them alternately catatonic, manically self-destructive or suicidally depressed,” Elliot finished. “Believe me, I wish I could save them all. But it’s impossible in the heat of battle to break the hold over them.”

“I came here to save your people, not murder them!” Luna insisted.

“Princess,” Lyra put in from where she was sitting, “it’s good that you might want to save the Converted. A lot of us want that, ultimately. But… at this point they make up sixty five percent of the forces the Solaminan Empire uses. You can’t restrain them, you can’t reason with them. They aren’t allowed to think of another way of life except the one they’re ordered to take, and they’ll fight fanatically.”

Luna sighed, shaking her head. “And so we must kill some of those we came here to save?”

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of in this war,” Elliot said grimly. “And we’ll do plenty more before we’re done, I’m sure of it.”

“Um… Commander Albion?” a voice said quietly from behind them all.

All eyes turned to a young man, barely older than a child, dressed in a long black coat at least three sizes too big for him.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt, sir,” he said. “The Council have made contact. They request you give them an update as soon as possible.”

Elliot let out a breath. “Yes. I was wondering when that would come around.”

“The Council are your government?” Luna asked quietly.

“For what it’s worth,” Elliot replied quietly. He sighed. “Right, I’d better go pay the piper.”

Luna nodded slowly. “We will continue this another time.”

“Looking forward to it,” Elliot said, and with a quick mock-salute he walked off with the boy, heading for the back of the church.

Luna could only stare after him without really seeing him, and wonder just what it was that she and her sister had gotten themselves involved with. For the first time in millennia, words of faith came to mind.

Epona, mother of our kindred, be thou our protector and shining light, and guide us to Harmony, for I walk alone in strange lands and know not the way home.

Author's Notes:

So, uh... surprise?

Yeah, so I felt like getting back to this, this chapter was about half done, and so here we are. I’m not going to make promises about the next chapter of this work, but I’m going to say that I enjoyed being back at it in this instance, so it’s possible I’ll keep at it. 😊

Encounters at Fairpoint

***

“In the fullness of time, many things will be done, by us and others.”
Princess Celestia, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Fairpoint, May 11th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Celestia was staring out over the field of Fairpoint, a wistful expression on her face, when Lyra approached her.

They had arrived a few short hours ago by zeppelin - Prince Blueblood himself had apparently been in command of the sleek vessel, which was named Sunrider, but he had studiously avoided Lyra and the Element Bearers (which was a shame - Lyra had all sorts of questions about the operation of the Sunrider, which was, according to what she had overheard, a hybrid design with Griffonite elements). Now the Element Bearers and the bulk of their guard contingent were already heading for the fort, while Blueblood and the crew of the Sunrider moored the zeppelin in place.

Fairpoint… this place in and of itself was history. Visibly it was already impressive: a field of green grass, almost entirely flat land save for a handful of villages, a few fields of crops, and a single, giant, rocky hill, upon which sat a fortress that, If looks alone were enough to judge a fortress, could have held off an entire planet’s worth of armies on its own. But no matter how impressive it looked, it was the history of the place that made it the wonder that it truly was.

It was in completely neutral land. No one party laid claim to this place, and it was guarded by one of the only truly multi-species military units in the entirety of Equus. Many years ago, there had been a battle fought here, or so Lyra understood it, and at the conclusion, many of the leaders of the races of Equus had decided that, no matter what, this could Never Happen Again, capitals and all. The fortress, the military unit, the community that they had forged, all of it had come about in the pursuit of unity amongst the peoples of Equus.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Celestia said quietly, breaking the silent contemplation of the fortress.

“Uh… yes,” Lyra said quietly, uncertain how else to reply.

“It’s a wonder of our age,” Celestia continued. “Peace, or a representation of it. The strength of unity. A harmony all it’s own.”

“You were here when this fortress was built, weren’t you?” Lyra asked her.

Celestia nodded and smiled at Lyra. “That’s right, I was. A… long, long time ago.” She looked back at the fortress. “Fairpoint is the only place worthy of having this meeting, the only place where we can all meet as equals.”

“Do you think we’re the first here, Princess?” Lyra asked.

“No,” Celestia said quietly. She motioned to a small, rounded shape sat near the base of the hill. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was Emperor Augustus’ personal airship, the Griffons are good at building fast ships. And the Husianid Caliphate would always have sent forces ahead of time; they’re faster on foot than we are in a zeppelin.”

Lyra nodded slowly. “The Qilin can’t have arrived yet: assuming they’ve sent their Emperor, they’d never send him with less than a full fleet, and even an ambassador would have a large escort befitting their rank and the ranks of those they expect to meet.”

Celestia nodded as well. “I suspect it will be the Son of Heaven himself, and his personal fleet is rather ostentatious.”

Lyra smiled. “Well, this should be really exciting. So many cultures, so many different peoples… some of whom I’ve only ever read about!”

“I’m glad you’re excited,” Celestia said quietly. “But remember, Lyra: we are here to ask for help in a war against an enemy that, even with their help, we may not be able to stop.”

Lyra sobered up somewhat at that. “Yes, I remember. I wish… I wish I could have met new beings for a better reason.”

“I know,” Celestia said quietly. “But think of it this way: you’re meeting them to convince them to help us save humans, a race you’ve wanted to meet more than any other. Surely that’s one of the best reasons you could possibly have to meet a new species.”

That did help, and Lyra smiled at the thought.

“Thank you, your highness,” she said quietly. “I appreciate that.”

“Think nothing of it, Lyra,” Celestia said quietly. “I only hope we’re able to achieve what we set out to achieve.”

“What do you think our chances are?” Lyra asked.

Celestia didn’t reply, but the expression of doubt and worry in her face was enough to give a pretty clear indication.

Well, nopony said it was going to be easy, Lyra thought grimly. Though I wish it didn’t have to be this hard…

***

Prince Arvalon of the Husianid Caliphate was bored. He wasn’t just bored: he was booooorrreed.

Remind me to get Arlias back for this, he thought irritably as he trotted down another of the interminable grey corridors of Fort Fairpoint. The fortress was one of the many marvels of Equus… but by the white horse it was boring. No houses of pleasure, no ‘special’ masseuses, not even more than a single drab inn. The various peoples who lived in harmony here might have been the most boring representatives of their respective species known to all horsekind.

Honestly. Sending me on a diplomatic mission. He knows I hate all of this political horse sh-

“Excuse me, Prince Arvalon?” the voice of one of the Fairpoint Guard, this one a Griffon, said, as she approached him.

He dismissed his irritated thoughts and put one of his best charismatic smiles on.

“Greetings, my dear,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Fort Fairpoint is preparing to receive guests,” the guard said blandly, ignoring his attempts at charm. “The Princess Celestia of Equestria has arrived with her entourage. It is requested you come greet her with the other guests.”

Celestia of Equestria, eh? Arvalon thought, quirking an eyebrow. I've only seen her in passing… there’s a mare worth time to admiring.

“I would be honoured,” he said, inclining his head. “Lead on, sweet Griffoness.”

The Guard didn’t dignify that with an answer - not that Arvalon had expected her to. Did all these people choose to live here in communal boredom?

She led him down the corridor to the grand staircase, which in turn led to the main entrance hall: it was a grand entrance hall, to be sure, with high tapestries displaying the history of Fairpoint and the glories of the nations that had come together to build it. To anyhorse with more appreciation of history, Arvalon was sure it would be a fascinating display. To him, however, it was dull as dishwater. He preferred living life in the present.

Predictably, the Griffon emperor Abelard Augustus had sent his vassal Greynar van Gant to greet the Princess of Equestria instead of being here to meet her himself. Greynar was young but ambitious, clad in a scarlet Griffon dress uniform. With him was his niece, Gertrude van Gant, a nervous and shaky looking Griffoness with a simple formal dress on. Arvalon wasn’t surprised that Abelard hadn’t come: he probably wanted to send a subtle message to Celestia that he wouldn’t come running just because she arrived.

The old bird may be a clever one, but he still can’t resist measuring staves with the Mare who holds the Sun, Arvalon thought with a chuckle. Whereas I have no need to prove my staff to anyone.

Well, either that or Abelard had gout and couldn’t be arsed dealing with it to get out of his bed. Which was perhaps less plausible, but the thought brought Arvalon amusement.

And then he turned his attention to the small procession coming through the main door.

Celestia herself was obvious: rainbow mane flowing about her head, soft smile filled with wisdom, and her tiara glittering softly. Behind her came the procession of Guardsponies - looking for all the world to Arvalon like a collection of toy soldiers, though he knew better than to think they were quite so pathetic in action. One thing he did know was that they’d almost certainly be a collection of incredible bores.

With the group, however, were seven mares who didn’t seem to be part of the standard procession. The leader of the little group seemed to be a purple Unicorn mare with a neatly cut dark-purple mane laced with pink, who looked entirely too straight laced for Arvalon to even consider making a play for. Behind her was a a cerulean Pegasus with a rainbow mane of her own (albeit scruffy, in a ‘bit of rough’ sense that Arvalon could vaguely appreciate), and a butter yellow Pegasus with a pink mane who seemed to be staying close to her.

Not bad at all, he thought appraisingly, eyeing her body language carefully, but looks far too meek. Would probably faint at the first glance.

Behind the Pegasi were two Earth Ponies and another pair of Unicorns, all of whom seemed equally interesting-but-not-right - one quite clearly smelled of a farm, which, judging from her hat and hooves, was her occupation. It wouldn’t have been the first farm girl he’d ever had occupy his chambers, but still. The other Earth Pony, a pink mare with wild hair, was bouncing around, with an infectious energy that he felt quite giddy himself, but he could never stand hyperactive mares. They were so difficult to keep satisfied for long, and even he needed to take breaks between rounds.

Finally, there were the Unicorns. One was an alabaster mare clad in a stylish dress who, if he were any judge, probably had a tiger under the prim exterior (they always hide behind a prim exterior). The other was a mint green mare who was taking in the tapestries with wide eyes, clearly enthralled. It was this mare who began speaking excitedly.

“That one depicts the battle of Argent Ford!” she said, pointing at a tapestry with a variety of Griffon and Pony soldiers depicted having at each other. “Ooh, ooh, and that one -” and here she seemed enthralled by an image of a Horse and a Pony standing next to one another stop a rock while surrounded by changeling soldiers, “depicts Prince Arvegan and Prince Blueblood the -”

“My dear Lyra,” Celestia said, throwing the mare a glance. “There will be plenty of time to examine history later. Right now - we have living beings to meet.”

Arvalon chuckled. Well, subject matter aside, this Lyra seems to have passion for her passions. I can respect that.

“Indeed, Princess Celestia,” He said out loud, stepping forward and bowing. “And it is always, always a pleasure to meet such radiance.”

Celestia chuckled and extended her hoof, and he kissed it delicately.

“Arvalon, you’re just like your grandfather,” she said. “Although I must admit, he didn’t brush up nearly as well.”

“Ah, what can I say?” Arvalon shrugged. “My mother gave myself and Arlias all her good looks.”

Celestia inclined her head. “And may I introduce, my student Twilight Sparkle,” the Purple mare incline her head in a deep bow, “and her friends, Ms Applejack,” the farmpony tipped her hat, “Ms Rarity,” and the Alabaster mare curtsied, “Ms Fluttershy,” at which the shy-looking Pegasus made a small ‘eep’ sound and ducked behind her friend, “Ms Rainbow Dash,” the scruffy bit of rough threw a quick, jaunty salute, “Ms Lyra Heartstrings,” the mint green mare bowed properly, if a bit too eagerly, “and Ms Pinkamena Diane Pie -”

“Hi!” the pink Earth Pony said brightly.

“... all of Ponyville, near Canterlot,” Celestia finished smoothly. “They are my aides and friends, here to assist with these talks.”

“These talks which you have initiated, your highness,” Greynar van Gant put in from where he was standing.

“Indeed,” Celestia said diplomatically, “and for good reason, as I hope to prove to you, Lord…?”

“Lord Greynar van Gant, Captain of the -” Gertrude began, but Greynar held up a claw.

“We don’t need the full thing just now, Gertrude,” he said.

“Sorry, Uncle,” the Griffoness said, lowering her head. Arvalon raised an eyebrow - she was the Griffons’ appointed herald?

“This is my niece,” Greynar said blandly, motioning to her. “Gertrude. She’s the Emperor’s aide and herald.”

“I take it Abelard is here?” Celestia asked with a smile.

Greynar puffed himself up. “His majesty does not jump when you call, Princess of Equestria. He has come because you wielded the ancient call, but he will speak at the conclave, not before.”

Celestia inclined her head. “Of course, Lord Greynar. I meant no offence.”

Greynar bowed stiffly in return. “Of course,” he echoed. “And make no mistake, if we are needed for common cause, we will not sit idle.”

“Nor will Husia,” Arvalon added, inclining his own head. “Although I must admit to hoping it doesn’t come to anything too messy.”

Celestia’s smile faltered. “I… fear it is too late for that, Prince Arvalon.” And just like that, her smile returned in full force. “But let us not speak of such things. Lord Greynar,” she added, turning to him. “I desire to speak with Emperor Augustus and pay my due respects. Would that be possible?”

Greynar nodded slowly. “I can bring you to his chambers. Whether he will speak with you is a different matter.”

“I appreciate your efforts,” Celestia said. She turned to her entourage. “Alright, my dear little ponies - the castle is free for the most part for you to explore. Please try to be polite to anybeing you meet. I have no doubt that the conference will not be for a few days.”

At that, the Guardsponies dispersed, and the group of mares began heading off. Most headed in one direction, led by the one Celestia had said was called Twilight Sparkle. Celestia followed Grey ar and Gertrude up the stairs, leaving only Arvalon and the enthusiastic mint green mare in the Hall.

At once, she began looking at the tapestries again, grinning and looking at them in wonder.

Perhaps we can learn a little of why the Mare who holds the Sun has called this, Arvalon thought, approaching her.

“Miss Heartstrings, wasn’t it?” he asked.

At once, she jumped, before looking at him. He saw her eyes widen at the sight of him, and he grinned.

“Apologies,” he said. “I know horses are somewhat… well, larger than most of the creatures you ponies are used to.”

“I’m sorry, your highness,” she said, bowing slightly. “I meant no offence.”

“None taken, my dear,” Arvalon said, “and please, call me Arvalon. My brother is the one who takes his role seriously, whereas I, to his chagrin, do not do so nearly as much.”

Heartstrings nodded. “I… see.”

There was a brief, awkward pause, and then Arvalon pointed to the tapestry she had been admiring earlier.

“Arvegan and Blueblood's meeting was one I learned about in my youth,” he said, smiling at her. “It was a rather brutal conflict with one of the line of Tarsis, if I’m not mistaken.”

“The line of Tarsis the Deathmonger?” Heartstrings asked, eyes widening in shock. “I thought that line was extinct.”

“It’s a little hard to keep up with Changeling bloodlines,” Arvalon said with an easy grin.

“Oh, I know that,” Heartstrings said, waving a hoof. “But Tarsis’ line is ancient. Absolutely ancient.”

“Oh, yes,” Arvalon agreed. “It dates back to before recorded history among my people -”

“She was the most powerful Changeling in the pre-Equestrian historical records,” Heartstrings interrupted him. “Tarsis the Deathmonger, a tyrant, ruler of millions of changelings and thousands of miles of territory. Y’know, one historical record attributed about half of all husklings to the hive of Tarsis?”

Arvalon chuckled. “And where does a sweet young mare hear about such horrid things as husklings, eh?”

“Books,” Heartstrings replied at once. “There are all sorts of ancient books on the ancient times. Lots of different theories.” She whistled. “They say Ramses the Chosen himself killed Tarsis in her hive at the cost of his own life. It must have been a mighty battle.”

“Is history your study, then?” Arvalon asked. He was starting to be more impressed by this mare’s passion for what she enjoyed, whether it was work or hobby. It was… refreshing.

“No,” she said, smiling. “Cryptozoology. The study of civilisations other than ponies is one of my preferred hobbies, but especially the more esoteric ones.”

You call citing the circumstances of the death of Tarsis the Deathmonger ‘esoteric’? Arvalon thought, trying not to raise an eyebrow at the fact. Out loud he just smiled.

“That’s one reason I’m here,” Heartstrings said. “I know a great deal about the customs of the different races of Equus.”

Arvalon nodded. “Do you, now.” He looked back up at the tapestries. “So… I’m curious. If I said I and my current companion would be honoured to get better acquainted with you, would you understand my meaning?”

Heartstrings blushed. “You… you mean…”

He smiled down at her. “Ah, I see you do take my meaning.”

“Your highness,” Lyra said, looking around, “with all due respect, isn’t that… a little below your, um, station? And I’m a pony, as well.”

“Ah, well, I am Arvalon the shifting sands,” Arvalon said with a wink. “Conqueror and conquered of the Minotaur Princess Callia, whispered of in every house of pleasure in Simos, spoken of across the entirety of this world for… well, whatever you like to imagine.” Heartstrings’ blush deepened. “I have become… acquainted, shall we say, with members of every race, in every class, across this world. You would not be my first pony.”

Heartstrings swallowed. “I… am flattered, but…” She coughed. “I’m here to work and learn, your highness.”

“Ah, you are here to learn about all the cultures that are visiting,” Arvalon said with a wink. “Would this not be the most sublime… cultural exchange?”

Heartstrings blinked, before laughing nervously. “I… uh, well… if… um…”

“Ah,” Arvalon said, raising a hoof. “You are… inexperienced, in such exchanges?”

Her blush only deepened.

“Well, fear not,” Arvalon said. “If you are so inclined, I can ensure your tutelage in such matters is… memorable.” He turned and walked back up the stairs. “I will be in my chambers with my paramour should you choose to engage in cultural exchange, my dear.”

He trotted away, satisfied with the results of that particular exchange. He had no doubt that she was suitably intrigued by his proposal. And it had been a while since he’d enjoyed the company of a Unicorn.

May as well try to get some fun out of this ridiculous place, he thought with a smirk.

***

When Celestia reached the chambers of Abelard Augustus, he was already clad in his own dress shirt, and was staring out of a window across the fields of Fairpoint.

“A contingent from Simos is on its way,” he said blandly to her by way of greeting. “And a company of Fenri. They will be here by tomorrow.”

She said nothing for a moment, sensing he had a point to make.

“Almost all the nations of this world will send a representative, if they don’t send their leaders themselves,” he continued after a moment. “So I ask you, Mare of the Sun.” He turned to look at her. “What is this about?”

Celestia took a breath. “I would prefer to address the issue in the conclave.”

“You have summoned this conclave,” Abelard said, scowling at her. “The first time in many years. Your clarion, a message to the world, never used on this scale.” His expression softened. “Celestia… what is it? What have you found?”

Celestia sighed. “Abelard, we’ve known each other since you were a child. Have you ever known me to do anything without cause?”

“No,” Abelard said quietly. “Which is why it is important to me to know why you do this now.”

Celestia looked out of the window. “We… we have learned something terrifying.”

Abelard frowned in confusion. “‘Terrifying’? You are afraid?”

Celestia chuckled. “It happens more often than you’d think, my old friend. And yes.” She sobered. “We have learned that… that there is another world. Another world that is at war with a twisted, changed version of my Equestria - and an equally twisted version of myself.”

Abelard looked back out the window. “And now we are threatened?”

“Not as such,” Celestia said quietly. “But I could not stand idly by.”

Abelard looked back at her, now confused. “She did not threaten you?”

“I do not know if she knows I exist,” Celestia replied. “But whether she does or not, she is a monster, a creature with only one desire: to conquer.”

“I see,” Abelard said quietly. He looked back out the window once again. “If we are to go to war, Celestia, I need a cause.”

“She seeks to commit genocide, Abelard,” Celestia said insistently. “Is that not cause enough?”

“I have seen war,” Abelard snapped. “As have you. But I will need more than simple words about genocide to condemn my people to it once again.”

Celestia nodded. She knew she should have expected as much.

“Then you will have more, your majesty,” she said. Without another word, she turned and left.

She only hoped Luna would be finding things easier than her.

Author's Notes:

Because everyone loves Star Trek Title Puns. 😉 So, yeah, for the moment I’m back in the swing a bit. It’s nice to be here, nice to have some energy for it. I’ll try my best to keep it up.

All’s Unfair In Love And War

***

“Major Redmond has already explained to us that you are from a parallel world.”
Mr Sato, The Avatar of Albion.

***

The Archives Command Centre, Scotland. January 20th, 2032.

Sat in his office, pondering some paperwork, was the dishevelled form of Prince Blueblood, late of Equestria. As he went over the various requisition forms and other documents, he decided that he hated working on the Governing Council.

It wasn’t the people or ponies that he worked with - he liked his colleague’s well enough, actually. General Anderson was blunt, honest and hardworking, all traits Blueblood had never encountered in high ranking government before, and so was grateful to encounter now. Mr Sato was also an intelligent enough man, good to work with and filled with an honest passion for representing the cause of the people who lived on this island, as well as a humbleness that Blueblood had seldom encountered - or truth be told, had much of himself before coming here. Blueblood didn't hate either of them: if he had to have anyone, pony or human on the high council, he would still pick them to be the other two members over any other candidates he knew of.

Nor did he hate Cheerilee, the civilian representative, or King William of Britain, the nominal head of the British state given the total destruction of most other forms of government on the isle. They were reasonable: Cheerilee had been doing the best she could for the ponies under her care for almost a full decade now, arranging several integration programs so that the ponies of the Resistance Exodus and subsequent escapees were always well taken care of. King William, meanwhile, was knowledgeable enough to leave decision making to the Council and not try to use his status to 'big himself up': if anything, he was something of an Everyman, often getting close enough to the little folk to know their problems. This was a valuable viewpoint, and any advice he gave - and the human members of the council often asked his advice, Blueblood noticed - was wiser than even his near fifty or so years suggested.

No, Blueblood didn't hate those he worked with at all.

He just hated the work.

Tens of thousands of ponies and millions of humans, all riding on the decisions they made, and nothing he did ever felt like it was good enough. So many things could go wrong, and at the stage of the game very few things could go right. Sometimes it felt like he had come here to join in a mass suicide, given how desperate the situation was... but then he remembered with a frown that even a mass suicide defence like this was better than doing nothing against the atrocities he had seen.

He sighed, realising that his paperwork wouldn't get done all by itself.

“Dinky!” he called out. “I need you to take a memo!”

A young unicorn with a quill set inside a heart for a cutie mark stood near him, taking a quill and paper out and beginning a record. Most of their records were paper now, mainly because e-records (as the humans called them) tended not to survive as easily as paper did these days.

“Ok, ready,” she said tiredly.

“Must double check that all ponies are being sent out with at least the barest minimum of protection,” Blueblood said tiredly. “If the casualty reports at London are true, a lot of ponies died for want of basic armours. I’d say they might as well have been fighting naked, except some actually did.”

“Got it," Dinky said. "Where do you want it?”

“Send it to requisition office,” Blueblood said tiredly. “It might get read in the next year if we're lucky.”

“Got it, sir,” Dinky said. She turned away for a moment, then back to him. “Sir, did you happen to get my last letter…”

“Yes,” Blueblood said, scowling slightly. He had hoped she wouldn't bring this up. “Request denied.”

“But sir, I…” Dinky began protesting.

“But nothing, Dinky Doo,” Blueblood cut her off, waving a hoof. “When I took this job, Cheerilee showed me your mother’s will, and she was very clear: you were never to serve in the armed forces under any circumstances. It has been impressed upon me how seriously everypony and every human in this government takes her request, given her status as a hero. I'm not about to go against the general consensus here.”

“All due respect, sir,” Dinky said, her eyes narrowing slightly, “but she's dead.”

Blueblood sighed and facehoofed.

“Yes,” he said softly. “And I think most of us would like to think that she died happily, in the knowledge that you would never join her.”

“Sir,” Dinky said pleadingly, “you've read my letter. You know how much this means to me.”

Yes, he had. An impassioned plea from a young unicorn who seemed to want nothing more desperately than to stand with her pony brothers and sisters. If he hadn't known better he would have detected a slightly self destructive streak behind it, too: Hundreds of ponies just like me are fighting and dying every day to try and stop the Tyrant's armies. What kind of pony would I be if I wasn't willing - no, eager - to go out there and join them? No, Blueblood was not intent on letting somepony with a clear self destructive tendency go onto a battlefield. Especially one as young as her.

“I'm sorry, Dinky,” he said with finality. “You will not be going out there.”

Dinky swore under her breath.

“Damn her,” she said quietly a moment later. “Damn her to Tartarus for what she's done to me.”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Doo?” Blueblood asked with narrowed eyes.

“Damn my mother to Tartarus for this!” Dinky repeated angrily, raising her voice. “She lays down some… some damn edict that I should never have to fight, and then what? Goes and gets herself blown up so that I never get the chance to…” Her breath hitched. “She went out there and died for what she believed in, and that's some big heroic thing, but I believe. I believe as strongly as she ever did! And I have to sit here and…”

“And live,” Blueblood finished, cutting her off. “She wanted you to live. To live free from… from whatever happens to the poor bastards who live on the front lines.”

“I would be out there in a heartbeat,” Dinky said.

“Yes,” Blueblood agreed, nodding. “You would. You’d be out there because you’re angry, and miserable, and desperate. And every day, angry, miserable, desperate ponies sign up, go out there, and die.”

“Then why spare me?” Dinky asked. “What makes me so special that I get to live while all those damaged ponies have to die?”

Blueblood sighed. “Truthfully? It’s nepotism. Of course it is. People knew Ditzy. They loved her. If it had been random Pony Joe asking to keep you here, or if it had been some other mother asking to save some other child, you’d have been outfitted and sent to die.”

“I never asked for special treatment,” Dinky said angrily.

“I know,” Blueblood said. “But you can’t change this. You fulfil a duty that helps keep our defences running. You are serving a valuable purpose.”

“As a bucking pencil pusher,” Dinky swore.

“Yes, as a pencil pusher,” Blueblood replied softly. “D'you think the ponies out there would be nearly as well prepared if there were not ponies like you and me here, ponies who want to fight for something but can't because we are needed here? Nobody’s asking me to fight, but they do need someone to help as I do.”

Dinky paused. “Sir. I just… I want to contribute. I want to make a difference.”

“No,” Blueblood said tiredly. “You want to kill Solaminan soldiers. Vengeance isn’t justice, Dinky, and it doesn’t make you happy, no matter how much you might think it will.”

Dinky looked like she wanted to say more, but she thought better of it. “If you say so, sir.”

Blueblood didn’t rise to that. “You can make a difference from any position, Dinky. Never forget that. And for now… I need you to go get some more paperwork filled in. And prepare for the Council session in two hours - it should be… interesting.”

She nodded and left, leaving Blueblood alone in his office to consider her position. Could he blame her for being angry? No. Could he understand her position? Absolutely. But he couldn’t change what Ditzy Doo had asked of the Council, and Cheerilee had been quite clear when he took over her role on the Council that this was one edict that nopony and no human would agree to change.

The door knocked again and Blueblood cursed slightly.

“Who is it?” he called out.

“Me,” the voice of Cheerilee came back softly. Blueblood sighed.

“Come in,” he called.

The former teacher entered, a soft smile on her face. “Hello, Blueblood. How are you?”

Blueblood smirked good-naturedly at her genial attitude and friendly voice: she always sounded ever so slightly sarcastic to him, but he was used to dealing with an entirely more unpleasant bunch of ponies - he had been one of them after all.

“Busy as usual,” he said. “Had a conversation with Dinky. About her letter.”

“Ah,” Cheerilee said, smile dropping from her face. Knowing her, Dinky had probably approached almost every lower and upper council member with the same letter: a request to be allowed to fight. And like as not, every one of them had written back saying ‘no’: Blueblood hadn't bothered, knowing she would most likely bring it up to him. “I thought I heard her dulcet tones.”

“Yes,” Blueblood said with a sigh. “Makes one wish Ditzy Doo hadn't been so strict with her last will and testament.”

“It was for the best,” Cheerilee said sagely. “We've sent so many ponies to die horrid deaths these last few years: maybe letting one survive is a blessing.”

“We've sent ponies who offered,” Blueblood retorted. “But Dinky's not just offering: she's begging to go. I've not seen someone so enthusiastic for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean she should go,” Cheerilee said sternly.

He sighed. “You know she resents her mother.”

“Not really,” Cheerilee replied sadly. “She resents her mother's wishes. She misses her mother: I think her desire to fight wouldn't be nearly as strong without the death of her mother hanging over her. She feels strongly that her mother died for a cause - maybe she feels fighting in that same cause will bring her closer to her.”

“Maybe,” Blueblood said, trying not to sound dismissive. “It's a little above my head if I'm honest.”

“You don't feel the need to fight for a cause?” Cheerilee asked.

“I feel the need to fight for different reasons,” Blueblood retorted. “After all, I was part of Empress Solamina's council. I might have seen the first few true atrocities she committed.”

“The last stand of the Night Guard,” Cheerilee said sagely.

Blueblood nodded, but didn't say anything. The ‘Last Stand of the Night Guard’, as he told it to most people, was a heroic battle, the brave rebel Night Guard refusing to bow before the Tyrant. The picture Blueblood had painted of the Night Guard's destruction was a heroic struggle, valiant and brave.

The truth was rather different. The whole thing had been short, and pointless… and brutal.

It had been the first sign - at least to Blueblood - that she was starting to go insane. It was around that time that the barrier had begun it's expansion across the Earth.

It would be another two years before the barrier would be stopped at the British isles, and shortly after that Celestia declared herself as Empress Solamina - claiming it to be the will of her people, and to be fair, the majority of converted had long ago subscribed to the idea that she was a kind of God, spurred on by fanatics and flagellants led by a pony who had been a priest, now calling himself Sol Invictus: ‘Victory of the Sun’. Blueblood had been increasingly uneasy, but only after the Council was dissolved and he saw the ruin of Equestria that he realised he had to flee.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Cheerilee - like everypony else, even the scant dozen or so original Night Guard who still survived, mostly Luna's special Thestral ponies who had acted as remote guards - still believed the romanticised version of the story he told. He considered it a small repayment of a debt he owed them: giving the history of the Night Guard, and their end, a more heroic edge. That, and making the heraldry and name of the Night Guard his personal bodyguard and a unit he had reinstated as part of the Resistance, had ensured the name “Night Guard” would never be forgotten.

“That was the start,” he agreed. “Maybe if I'd have realised it there, I could have left earlier. But I didn't.”

“No, you left four years ago,” Cheerilee said. “With your name as a council member to aid the propaganda machine by creating the Government-In-Exile, and intelligence that saved many lives and led to the death of Applejack, Rainbow Dash and eventually Pinkie Pie.” She smiled kindly at him. “I don't think you've that much debt left to repay.”

Blueblood smiled at her assessment: she was too kind to him, he thought to himself. She knew, as he did, that he was indirectly responsible for many atrocities. No: he would have a long list of things to make up for should he ever become ruler of Equestria.

“Just one debt left,” he said tiredly to her. “I'm going to see Solamina toppled if it's the last thing I do.”

She nodded slowly. “I hope to see that day too, Blueblood.”

Blueblood smiled, then looked down at his mound of paperwork, before looking back up at Cheerilee.

“Anyway,” he said. “How can I help you?”

Cheerilee let out a breath. “I thought you should know: the helicopter with David Elliot’s team is en route. And they’re being accompanied by Princess Luna.”

Ah, yes. That little matter.

“I still can’t believe what Elliot said,” Blueblood said to Cheerilee. “An entirely new Equestria…”

“And Princess Luna herself,” Cheerilee added. “That one will definitely cause a stir when they arrive.”

“Yes, true,” Blueblood said. He had heard from Elliot’s own mouth about the whole damn thing, and he still found it impossible to entirely believe. “I suppose, then, that we’d best get ready to go meet them.”

“Agreed,” Cheerilee said quietly.

As she walked out and Blueblood got up to follow her, he felt a nagging sense of foreboding.

This is not going to be fun.

***

Being in one of these helicopters was… claustrophobic, Princess Luna decided. She was cramped onto two seats, legs and wings tucked in uncomfortably.

There were more than a few soldiers in here, most of whom Luna didn’t recognise, though Lieutenant Heartstrings and Ser Eric we’re both sat further away, as was the pony who had called himself ‘Hell Blazer’. The older pony, the one who’d called himself ‘The Doctor’, had said he would meet them there,

“Not a fan of the travel arrangements, your highness?” David Elliot asked her. The man was sat opposite her, legs up on his chair nonchalantly.

“I’m fairly certain I could have flown the distance myself,” Luna replied.

“No doubt,” Elliot said with a nod. “But you wouldn’t want to - not when everyone and their mother is watching the skies for False Alicorns. That’d be a case of friendly fire that’d sting a bit.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Commander?”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Please don’t start using that bloody title. I hate being called ‘Force Commander’. Sounds like a sodding video game.”

“Isn’t that the one with the lekker remix of Imperial March?” the shaggy-bearded form of Viktor Kraber asked from behind him.

Elliot glanced over his shoulder. “That’s right.”

“That’s cool!” Kraber said with a chuckle. “Always loved that one. Though Vinyl’s remix is easily the better one. Fokkin’ love the bass.”

Luna sighed. “I do not see why this Council of yours was not content with meeting over the… what was it called?”

“Comsat?” Elliot asked. He shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to be one hundred percent on this one. Can you really blame them? I mean, you’re… y’know. You.”

“As opposed to being somepony else?” Luna asked dryly.

“As opposed to being a fake,” Elliot replied. “Prince Blueblood knew you in person. He’ll be able to tell the difference between you and a False Alicorn recreation.”

“If he doesn’t faint dead away,” Kraber snorted. “Little moegoe’s always been a bit of a -”

“Kraber,” Heartstrings put in from where she was sitting. “Stow the bloody potty mouth for two seconds. And try to remember that the ‘little moegoe’ you’re talking about is the Exodite crown prince?”

“If you say so, Lieutenant,” Kraber shrugged.

Elliot smirked at Heartstrings, who sighed. “Do I even want to know what ‘moegoe’ means?”

“Would it help if I pointed out it’s not even a swear word?” Kraber asked.

“Not really,” Elliot said.

“Are we nearly there?” the irritated mare asked.

Elliot shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Heartstrings rolled her eyes. “Pilot!” she bellowed. “ETA to Archive base!”

“Thirty minutes, Lieutenant!” the pilot, a woman with cropped hair, yelled back.

Heartstrings threw Elliot a glare, and he chuckled.

“You could have just asked that yourself,” she said.

“You’re much better at having an authoritative voice than me,” Elliot told her with a wink.

Heartstrings groaned, but it was a good natured groan. As Elliot laid his head back and closed his eyes, most likely to have a brief nap, Luna kept her eyes on Heartstrings. The mare’s gaze lingered on Elliot a fraction longer than was strictly necessary, and Luna felt her heart lighten, just a tad.

It is good to see that love can still exist, here, she thought. Even if it is buried under other things. Sighing, she rested her chin on the chair. Let us hope thirty minutes passes quickly.

***

It didn’t, unfortunately. Indeed, when Luna got off of the helicopter she could have sworn that she felt some sort of travel sickness.

“I definitely wish I had flown,” she muttered to Elliot as he got off the machine behind her.

He simply shrugged. “I was never fond of flying myself.” He looked up at the sky. “Still, better safe than sorry. Anyway,” he said, looking back at her with a tired smile. “The meeting we have with the Council is in another hour. It’s probably for the best if you wait here while I go pave the way, so to speak.”

“If you insist, Major Elliot,” Luna said quietly.

He nodded, and without another word walked off, Lieutenant Heartstrings following him.

Luna took a deep breath, and looked around the compound. According to Elliot, they were in a place called ‘Scotland’. It was certainly remote: apart from this compound and a dirt track leading up to it, there was no sign of civilisation.

The compound itself seemed to be rather small: a single building, surrounded by a metal fence, with a single gate that met the dirt track. Ponies and humans in various uniforms were moving about the place, speaking with each other or dashing off on what Luna could assume were important tasks. She glanced overhead, and saw that there were Pegasi in colour-coordinated shirts flying above the base.

“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” she heard Kraber ask. She turned to look at the man, who was looking around ruefully, a Lewis Gun still in his hands.

“It seems… small, given that it is supposedly one of thine key bases of operations,” she said delicately, reverting to her more formal language.

“It’s bigger than it looks,” Kraber said with a smirk. “But yeah, it doesn’t look all that befok. We’re all siek en sat, not to mention sort of at the end of our tether.”

Luna gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Thou art no longer alone. We are going to help thee in thine struggle.”

Kraber raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, that’s all well and fokkin’ good, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a lot of shit going wrong. A loooot.”

Luna’s smile faded. “That much, I already knew.”

“You haven’t seen the fokkin’ half of it,” Kraber said sadly. He sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’d like to take some sit gat, rus bene... But there’s a few people I want to see.”

He walked off, leaving Luna once again to contemplate just what she had gotten herself into. These people… there was an odd mix of resignation and determination amongst them. So many of them - like Elliot - seemed to have optimism still, despite everything.

I only hope we can prove their hope true, she thought.

She sighed, and went to find a bench to sit on and stretch out.

As she trotted through the base, she couldn’t help but notice more than a few ponies and people alike staring at her. Some looked hostile, which - although she wasn’t happy about it - she understood, but others were gazing at her with hope, or even with reverence.

Elliot said I was dead, here, she thought, frowning slightly. What must my being here look like to these people, to these ponies? It would be like Epona herself walking among the ponies of Equestria…

She paused in her walking as she saw two ponies approaching her. One was a dark-maned, scarred Thestral stallion, and the other a turquoise Pegasus mare with an auburn mane and burns across one half of her face. Both wore full-body tunics, the Thestral in red and the Pegasus in dark green.

“Princess Luna?” the Thestral said. “It… it can’t be you?”

Luna inclined her head. “Semper Noctis, Thestral-frater.”

The Thestral bowed his head. “Noctis Aeterna, Thestral-regina.”

“She’s the real deal, then?” the Pegasus asked.

“She spoke old high Unicornic, the ancient greeting of the Thestrals,” the Thestral replied. He looked to Luna. “Fell Spear, your highness. Red Squadron, Red Four.”

“Lightning Dust,” the scarred mare added. “Green Squadron, Green Two.”

“An honour,” Luna said quietly. She looked between them both. “Art thou both battle flyers, then?”

“That’s right,” Fell Spear said, nodding. “The ERAF Squadrons are some of the best combat flyers out there.”

“The best,” Lightning Dust corrected him. “The best flyers, the best moves, the best ponies. We’re the ERAF’s ace-in-the-hole, one hundred and ten percent.”

“ERAF?” Luna asked, frowning at the unfamiliar term.

“Equestrian Resistance Air Force,” Fell Spear explained. “We’re the answer to the Royal Guard’s Pegasi and the Wonderbolts.”

At the name ‘Wonderbolts’, Lightning Dust spat on the ground with such vehemence that there was a small crater where the spittle had impacted. Luna raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Lightning Dust said quietly. “Bad memories.”

Luna nodded slowly, taking in what they had said. “I’m sure with thine valiance, thou art both a credit to the war effort.”

“Nice of you to say,” Lightning Dust said grimly. “You’ve probably never seen an air battle in this war before, have you?”

Luna shook her head. “I have not been here long enough to see more than the ending on the battle in the city of - London, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Don’t worry. We know the story,” Lightning Dust said tiredly. She gave the Princess a wry smirk. “Rumours fly faster than helicopters.”

“Not that I believed it,” Fell Spear said shamefacedly. “I… I did not believe you were really here. You or… or another Equestria. I’m sorry.”

“I understand why it would be hard for thou to believe,” Luna said with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, well, you being here is proof,” Lightning Dust said. “Considering… well, y’know…” She paused. “You do know what happened to the, uh, other you, right?”

“I… have heard that my counterpart in this world is dead,” Luna said slowly. “Although I must admit, it is hard to believe.”

“Believe it,” Fell Spear said angrily. “Me and a few other members of the Night Guard were on operations at the time. When we heard, we went back, only to find that you were dead from some ‘illness’, and the Night Guard had ‘rebelled’, getting slaughtered to a Thestral.”

Luna snorted. “A cover story, no doubt. It would take a very special illness to lay an Alicorn low.”

“That’s what we thought,” Fell Spear said. “And that’s why we were some of the first to join the Exodites.”

Luna frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar term, and Lightning Dust helpfully spoke up.

“The name for the first big batch of escapees,” she said. “Between Doctor Hooves, Cheerilee and Lyra Heartstrings, a lot of ponies were convinced to flee to what was left of the human world, here in Britain. And it was Cheerilee and the Doc who got them to give us… well, all the stuff we have.”

“New military organisations, supplies, a place in their civilisation, a place in their command structure,” Fell Spear agreed, nodding. “They were… well, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some humans who didn’t like us very much.”

“But the majority have backed us up,” Lightning finished.

Luna nodded. “Then, in thine estimation, myself and mine sister have made the right choice, committing to helping these humans?”

Lightning shrugged. “I wouldn’t know how to answer that, your highness. All I’d say is, Solamina’s propaganda paints humans all one colour, and that colour is mud brown to be trampled on. Truth is, humans and ponies aren’t so different - they don’t deserve getting wiped out any more than we do.”

That had been Luna’s experience thus far as well, but it was good to know that the ponies on the ground believed so as well.

“That being the case, I am glad we are here,” she said quietly. “We will help thee defeat the Tyrant Solamina.”

“We appreciate that, your highness,” Fell Spear said with a bow.

“Princess Luna?” another voice said, and Luna turned to see Lieutenant Heartstrings standing nearby.

“Lieutenant,” she said, inclining her head in greeting.

“The Council is waiting for you,” the Lieutenant said. “If you’ll follow me.”

Luna gave a final bow to Fell Spear and Lightning Dust, before heading off, following Heartstrings to the main compound building.

***

Once inside the main complex, Heartstrings led Luna to a nearby elevator.

“This lift will take us down to the Council level,” Heartstrings said, pressing one of the buttons.

“I see,” Luna said softly.

The elevator began moving, rattling slowly down the shaft. For a long moment, there was an awkward silence between the two mares.

“Thanks for your help,” Heartstrings said after a moment. Luna gave her a sideways glance, and she sighed. “In London. You helped. Thanks.”

“You are welcome,” Luna replied, nodding. “We could not leave your people - either of your peoples - to your fates, not once we knew what was happening.”

“Yeah, I know,” Heartstrings said softly. “And I appreciate it. We all do.” She paused. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” Luna said.

Heartstrings took a breath. “Do you think you can kill Solamina?”

Luna frowned. “Do I… why do you ask?”

“Just answer the question, please,” Heartstrings said tiredly. “It’s actually kind of important to me.”

Luna let out a sigh. “Honestly?” She paused. “I do not know.”

“You don’t know?” Heartstrings repeated.

“I personally did not defeat Celestia in battle when I was Nightmare Moon,” Luna pointed out. “And I was more powerful in that form - in raw power if not in skill.” She let out a breath. “Perhaps, possibly, myself and Celestia acting together could match an Alicorn of Celestia’s power… but it is not a sure thing.”

Heartstrings lowered her head. “Right.”

“Why do you ask the question?” Luna asked gently. When Heartstrings did not answer, Luna sighed. “You fear for David Elliot.”

Heartstrings’ head jolted up. “What makes you say that?”

“I have known many ponies,” Luna pointed out, “and recognise many different ways of showing affection. You care for him, do you not?”

Heartstrings blushed. “I don’t see how that’s relevant. Or any of your business.”

“It is not,” Luna replied, inclining her head. “I apologise for intruding.”

“Damn right,” Heartstrings said, scowling. A moment later, she gave Luna a sideways look. “Don’t tell him.”

“My lips on the matter are sealed,” Luna promised.

“They’d better be,” Heartstrings said. “Or Alicorn or not, I’ll kick your arse.”

The word sounded odd in Heartstrings’ accent, but Luna took the meaning and gave a small smile.

As the elevator came to a halt, she followed Heartstrings out. The two of them walked down a corridor leading to what looked like a waiting room, where David Elliot was sitting on a battered, threadbare chair. He threw them a casual salute.

“Hey,” he said. He smiled at Heartstrings. “Any trouble finding her?”

“The flowing mane and whole ‘Alicorn’ thing kinda gave her away,” Heartstrings retorted. She glanced between Luna and Elliot, before sighing. “I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Catch you later?”

“Count on it,” Elliot said with a smile.

Heartstrings nodded and turned to go.

“Lieutenant,” Luna said, and Heartstrings looked at her, frowning in confusion. “In dark days such as these, being honest with yourself and others is always best. Even if you are afraid, you must embrace whatever time you have.”

Heartstrings sniffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

And with that, she trotted off. Luna sighed and sat down on one of the larger chairs, before turning to look at Elliot, who was giving her a quizzical look.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

Luna shook her head. “Nothing important, Major.” She looked to the door. “I take it your Council is within.”

“They are,” Elliot said softly. “I imagine they’ll have a lot of questions.”

“And I shall have many of mine own,” Luna promised him.

The door to the Council chamber opened, and a young mauve Unicorn popped her head out of the door, frowning slightly as she regarded them both.

“The Council will see you both now,” she said stiffly.

Elliot took a breath. “Well then, Princess. Time to pay the piper.”

“Lead on, Major,” Luna said.

He entered the room, and Luna followed, her head raised high.

Time to make this alliance official.

***

Lyra Heartstrings made her way back to the lift. As she trotted, she mulled over the words that Princess Luna had spoken, trying to see whether there was actually anything to them.

Did she… did she care for David, in the way the Princess had insinuated? No, it was impossible, wasn’t it?

Why is it? a small, treacherous part of her mind wondered. You’ve always been a xenophile, especially for the bipeds: don’t pretend those Jorugumo pictures you got imported from Yamato weren’t more thrilling than any issue of Super Stallions you found stuffed under Bon Bon’s bed.

She scowled, but had to concede the point. But even given that, this was David Elliot. He was the hero of a nation. He was the last hope of a species. What chance did she have?

Don’t bullplop yourself, her mind told her, almost irritably. You know full well he isn’t any different from anyone else. He’s silly, he’s funny, and he just wants a normal life.

But that was just it, she thought as she entered the lift. He was different. He might have wanted a normal life, but he knew as well as she did that he couldn’t ever have one.

Says who? the voice thought. Face it - you have to stop pining like a lovesick filly, stop making excuses for why it couldn’t work. You're a fighter: if you want something you fight for it. You make it work.

“Fighting Guards is one thing,” Lyra said quietly to herself. “Fighting this? Something else.”

You’ve fought harder battles.

“Completely different thing.”

No! No different! Only different in your mind.

Lyra laughed slightly to herself. I should never have watched Star Wars.

When it came down to it, though, there was only one question at the heart of her quandary. Did she have the courage to tell him how she felt?

She only wished she knew the answer.

***

The Council chamber was much as Luna had expected: a dark room, relatively large, with a single round table in it, around which were sat individuals she could only assume were members of the Council.

There were two humans: one was a man with slightly different types of features to Elliot or many of the other humans she had met, which she guessed made him a native of a different land. He had a thin moustache and goatee, and was clad in a threadbare business suit. The other was blonde haired and square jawed, with a stern expression and what looked like a military uniform on.

Then there were the ponies - a magenta mare and an alabaster stallion, the latter of whom wore a stylised Night Guard uniform. Luna recognised Prince Blueblood - her own great-grandson was something of a well-known fop in aristocratic circles - But was surprised by the seriousness of his stern expression.

Everypony has hidden depths, she reminded herself. Perhaps not all the steel of his forebears is lost after all.

“Major Elliot,” Blueblood greeted. He looked at Luna. “And Princess Luna. It is… good to see you alive and well.”

“Prince Blueblood,” Luna said, inclining her head. “We find it good to see thee in such regalia, and in such good company.”

Blueblood smiled. “May I present Representative Cheerilee,” he motioned to the magenta mare, who bowed, “Representative Hiroto Sato,” the man in the business suit bowed as well, “and General Paul Anderson.”

The military man grunted, and Luna could tell he did not entirely trust her.

“We’re sure it’s her?” he asked.

“I am, sir,” Elliot said.

“And it certainly sounds like her,” Blueblood added. “Though…” He coughed. “Ave Princeps et Lunae.”

“Ave filium sanguinis,” Luna replied in perfect Old Unicornic. “Your pronunciation needs work.”

Blueblood nodded. “That’s about right. No False Alicorn would know the proper reply.”

“Unless Solamina taught them it,” Anderson said darkly.

“This would be a fairly foolish move on her part,” Sato put in, his voice tinged with a slight accent that Luna didn’t recognise, “to send such an obvious trap.”

“Perhaps that’s what she wants us to think,” Anderson growled.

“Gentlemen, please,” Cheerilee put in, smiling warmly. “You have both the Prince’s assurance and Major Elliot’s, and we’ve all read the AAR’s from London. As prudent as caution is, I’m inclined to trust Princess Luna’s integrity, and her identity.”

Luna inclined her head again. “We thank thee, Representative, for thine faith.”

Cheerilee chuckled. “I am perhaps too much of a hopeless optimist, still, your highness.”

“I believe optimism is not a bad thing when the alternative is despair,” Sato said, smiling softly. He looked at Luna. “And I believe we would all be grateful for more good news.

“We are happy to oblige,” Luna said, returning the smile.

Anderson scoffed and looked away, but didn’t say anything more. Blueblood, ignoring him, sat forward.

“So,” he began. “What is it you wish to accomplish, your highness?”

“What is it that we wish?” Luna repeated. “Let us ask a counter question, your highness. What is it that thou wouldst require of us?”

Anderson looked back at her. “All due respect, ‘your highness’, but we know you helped our people in London. What I want to know is why.”

“‘Why’?” Luna repeated. “Thine world is imperilled, General. Dost thou deny it?”

“I deny nothing,” Anderson said. “But - at the risk of looking a gift horse in the mouth - I don’t trust sudden help that shows up, no questions asked.”

Luna looked at Elliot, who only shrugged, before looking back at the Council.

“We - mine sister and myself - have been made aware of the crimes of the mare styling herself Astra Solamina Maxima,” Luna said slowly. “And we will not allow them to continue. We cannot, in good conscience, stand idly by.”

“So, what?” Anderson asked. “You’re doing this out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“Is that so hard for thou to believe?” Luna asked him. “Art thou so cynical?”

“After eight years, millions, billions of deaths? Coming to terms with the knowledge civilization won’t pull itself together for centuries? Sleepless nights where I had to beg myself not to think we’d already lost?” Anderson retorted. “You’re damn right I’m cynical.”

Luna nodded. “The point is conceded. And yet the truth remains: what Solamina is doing to your kind… the destruction of so much of your world, the abomination that is what is happening with the Converted… is abhorrent, and must be stopped. That is our cause.”

Anderson sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll believe that. Thousands wouldn’t, as they say.”

“I, for one, am satisfied with the reports we've received,” Sato put in. “But am curious as to our next step.”

Luna smiled softly. “That depends on our sister’s success at her own diplomatic table. But you will have the backing of the entirety of Equestria’s army, at the least.”

“That’s a big claim,” Cheerilee said, raising both eyebrows. “But I’m curious… what do you mean about your sister’s success?”

“She intends to seek aid from other nations of Equus,” Luna replied.

Blueblood nodded. “We’ve… explored that avenue ourselves. But in our world… Solamina has already decimated many of the other races. Destroyed an entire city of the Qilin, pushed the Griffons on the defensive…” He sighed. “Under the circumstances, they aren’t able to help us.”

“Which is a sore blow, given what we’ve learned about their armies,” Anderson put in. He was looking at Luna in a different light. “If you… if you really do have the capacity to bring more soldiers into this war…”

“Our sister will try to convince them,” Luna reiterated. “But there is no guarantee of success.”

Anderson laughed. “Hell, anything’s better than nothing, right?” He sighed. “Alright. Major, I read the report, but it was a lot vaguer than I’d like. I want a rundown of just what the hell happened to you.”

Elliot sighed. “That… is going to take a while.”

“Then you’d best get started, Major,” Cheerilee said with a raised eyebrow. “We don’t have all the time in the world, after all.”

***

Meetings and Greetings

***

“I ask that you do not make a decision rashly. Though time is short to save Elliot's world, one or two days will not condemn it now.”
Princess Celestia, The Avatar of Albion.

***

Fort Fairpoint, May 14th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

The library of Fort Fairpoint was, to put none too fine a point on it, terrible.

Twilight would have expected the repository of knowledge to be found in a place of legend like this to be the equal of, at the very least, Canterlot, or heck, even her own little library! Instead, however, it was a surprisingly small chamber located in the East Wing of the fortress, and it was sparsely kept at best. There were mostly copies of books that she had already read, along with a few different records of Fairpoint’s history.

That being said, she and her friends hadn’t managed to look through all of the book’s, so, much as she might not rate this place, there might still be information present to help out. Still, three days of searching hadn’t been especially enlightening.

“Not sure I like the smell of some of these old books,” Rarity mumbled as she moved one pile away from Twilight. “And it doesn’t help that we still don’t know what we’re looking for.”

“Something to help in a war,” Twilight replied. “Maybe some way of taking on an Alicorn.”

Fluttershy looked up at her. “Y-you think it’ll come to that?”

“Probably?” Twilight said, shrugging. “Discord laid on some heavy hints about Solamina that didn’t make anypony exactly thrilled about the prospect of taking her on, so…”

“What kind of a name is ‘Solamina’ anyway?” Rarity asked.

“Old high Unicornic,” Twilight said at once. She frowned. “I thought we’d gone over that part, Rarity.”

“Gone over what part, dear?” Rarity asked, frowning back at her.

“Solamina’s name,” Twilight replied. “You asked what kind of name it was.”

“No I didn’t,” Rarity countered. “Are you alright, dear? You’ve been up an awfully long time.”

Twilight shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Just then, Lyra entered the room. To Twilight’s surprise, she had a big smile on her face, and her normally relatively composed mane was frazzled.

“What the hay happened to you?” Applejack asked her. She and Pinkie were presently proverbially buried in a pile of books about the Griffon army’s military formations. Pinkie, at least, had apparently decided that now was a good time for a nap.

“Oh, nothing,” Lyra replied, grinning like a drunkard. “I just, uh… just finished getting acquainted with Prince Arvalon and his… uh, his ambassador, Elmas. Lovely pair. Couple. Uh, horses.”

“Talk about ‘whorses’,” Rainbow Dash’s voice spoke.

“Rainbow!” Rarity put in, scowling. “That is a horrible thing to say to -”

“Rainbow isn’t here,” Fluttershy said with a frown, the blood draining from her face. “She wanted to go get a look at the Griffon airship, said she’d be back later.”

There was a sudden pause, and then Lyra, her expression suddenly sober, started looking around. Twilight, too, stepped away from the books, frowning.

“Rainbow, are you out there?” she called out.

“Rainbow, are you out there?” her own voice returned to her, followed by a mocking giggle.

“Celestia wasn’t going to invite changelings to this meeting, was she?” Rarity asked quietly, looking up at the various high shelves with a worried expression.

“I don’t know,” Lyra said grimly. “But I don’t think that’s a changeling.”

“How do you know?” Applejack asked.

Instead of answering, Lyra began looking around again.

“Trickster, trickster,” she said, as though intoning. She paused, scowling. “Oh, how did it go?”

“What is it, Lyra?” Twilight asked. “Do you know what this is?”

Instead of replying, Lyra seemed to be reciting something in her head, before looking up at the ceiling, her eyes darting this way and that.

Trickster, trickster,
Prankster, minx,
We’re in no mood
For thine Tricks,
Trickster, trickster,
Devious one,
Show thy face and
Get thee gone!

There was a long, pregnant pause, and then Rarity raised an eyebrow.

“Much as that rhyme was… interesting, dear,” she said, “I don’t see how it -”

A long, low cackle sounded through the library, and Rarity nearly jumped out of her skin. Twilight’s horn glowed defensively, and even Applejack looked perturbed.

Oh where are you going?
And what are you doing?
And where have you come from?
And what have you seen?

Are you a-staying,
Or are you a-flying?
A herald of the future,
Or an old has-been?

“Show yourself,” Twilight said evenly. “We’re not in the mood for games.”

“She won’t show herself just because you ask,” Lyra said, her ears flattening against her skull. “She won’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

Another song started.

You talk about games, Celestia’s mare,
But games are not fun when you’re playing fair,
For I am the cheater that cheated the Gods,
The trickster of tricksters, defiler of odds,

So what about chess, with rooks and kings?
What about cards in gambling rings?
What about risk - you’re taking one,
To speak like a king when you serve the Sun.

“Who is that?” Applejack asked, frowning.

A figure appeared from the shadow of the nearby bookshelves, an expression of mischievousness upon a foxlike face, set upon a vaguely bipedal body. She wore a long red cloak, a rich, red and black kimono that cut off at the knees of her hindlimbs and had nine large lustrous fox tails that were visible behind her body, all of them swishing and coiling about in an almost hypnotic fashion. The only sign that she was armed was a short blade girt at her side.

“Greetings, strangers,” the creature said with a grin and a wave of her hand, her tone playful, even flirty.

Lyra bowed her head. “You do us honour, oh beauteous queen of liars.”

“Indeed?” the creature said with a smirk, raising her hand over her mouth in a dainty expression that seemed to be trying to hide her growing grin. “And what are the names of the duly honoured?”

“This is Twilight Sparkle,” Lyra said, motioning to Twilight. “These others are Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, and… well, the sleeping one is Pinkie Pie.”

True enough, Pinkie was still sleeping.

“And you, little mare?” the creature persisted. “What are you called?”

Lyra swallowed. “Lyra Heartstrings, your most gracious.”

“Indeed?” the creature said with a flourish, her tails dancing behind her. “Well, I am called ‘you bloody pest’ by many, but my name is Tamamo No Mae, daimyo and chief of the Kitsune.” The creature bowed, one of her paws set within the other before straightening again. “My friends call me Tama. You, little ponies, may call me Tamamo, until such time as I decide you bore me… or that you do not.”

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you,” Twilight said, glancing between Lyra and this Tamamo No Mae. She thought she had heard the name in passing, from both Celestia and Lyra, but she didn’t know the reputation.

Lyra groaned, giving Twilight the impression that she might have said the wrong thing.

“Nice.” Tamamo No Mae snorted derisively. “Nice. You have no idea who I am, do you, little pony?”

Twilight swallowed. “Uh… not… really?”

“Then allow me to educate you,” the Kitsune hissed. And then she seemed to shimmer, before leaping to another shelf, moving more like air than a creature of flesh and blood. “I am Tamamo No Mae. My name is legend, my deeds infamous. Where I walk, none may see, unless I allow it. I am silent and deadly, I am behind you and above you. I can always see you and you can never see me.”

“That, uh, must make conversation awkward,” Rarity said dryly, trying to smile.

Tamamo laughed at that. “It can. My equals can see me, at least. You aren’t quite there yet, and the paths you walk may never lead to such illustrious heights. Or maybe they shall. None can tell.”

She dropped to the ground before the little group, her body seeming to shimmer as her tails writhed and wrapped around her like a whirlwind of fur before straightening yet again.

“I am curious what made Celestia choose to act as she has,” she said, smirking. “It is entirely like her to act as emotion dictates, swiftly and with surety, but this is still a bold move for her.”

“You know her?” Twilight asked.

“We are… friends,” Tamamo replied, giving a toothless smile that could only be described as curt.

“I find it hard to believe anypony would want to be your friend,” Rarity said with a snort.

Lyra winced. “Rarity…”

“Of course others wish to be my friend, ponies and other, more interesting creatures alike,” Tamamo said indignantly. “I am the great Tamamo No Mae! I am a shadow and a shade, fast and lean, deadly and powerful, and very attractive.”

And suddenly she had assumed the form of an alabaster pony mare, lithe and beautiful, and was strutting around some six feet from the group.

“I could do whatever I wanted, with whomever I wanted, if I wanted to,” she said with a suggestive wink. She then pouted, the pony lips looking exaggerated. “If only the great Shogun would let me.”

“The Shogun?” Twilight whispered.

“Mighty Tengu,” Lyra said, somewhat louder. “He keeps the entire nation of Yamato in relative order despite the different groups.”

“He likes me to maintain a certain decorum, as a daimyo of a race,” the Kitsune shrugged. “And I am willing to maintain it, as a sacrifice for my kindred.”

Applejack clucked her tongue and snorted. “You're lying.”

“Applejack,” Lyra hissed. “You don’t just come out and tell Tamamo No Mae that she’s a liar!”

“Of course I’m lying,” the Kitsune said with a bark of laughter, startling Lyra. “I am Tamamo No Mae! I speak what I wilt and if I speak truth or falsehood, only I may say!”

“You are…” Rarity said, choosing her words carefully, “very… odd.”

The Kitsune gave a toothy grin. “You have no idea, tiny one.”

And with a sudden flourish, she had disappeared. Lyra looked around frantically, but after a moment of silence, she sighed.

“Girls,” she said slowly, “please, whatever you do, try not to antagonise her.”

“Whyever not?” Rarity said with a raised eyebrow. “She didn’t seem altogether fussed about not antagonising us.”

“Tamamo No Mae is the oldest and greatest of all Kitsune,” Lyra replied with a sober expression. “If she wanted to, we’d all be dead. And she pranks creatures more than Rainbow Dash, except half her pranks in the old days maimed or even killed their targets.” At the others’ shocked expressions, she sighed. “It hasn’t been that bad in recent history. I don’t know if she’s mellowed, or if Tengu stops her, but that’s what history says.”

There was a momentary shocked pause as everypony took in this information.

“Well,” Rarity finally said. “It seems we’re going to meet some interesting creatures while we’re here.”

***

Fort Fairpoint, May 16th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

The next group of ‘interesting creatures’ the girls would end up meeting, at least, were more familiar to them all. One early morning, after dreams full of shouting, horns, drums and marching feet, Twilight walked groggily into one of the many dining halls of the fortress, only to find Pinkie Pie and Lyra already there… along with a good dozen moles.

They were short, squat creatures, probably a good two hundred of them. Most of them, if not all, were clad in some sort of bulky, thick plated armour. Many of them were armed - battleaxes, pickaxes, halberds, crossbows, shortbows… if there was something potentially sharp and lethal, it was probably on display somewhere.

Oh: and there was singing.

“Drink when you're happy!
Drink when you're sad!
Drink when you're melancholy!
Drink when you're mad!

Drink for the best of times!
Drink for the worst!
Drink for the blessed times!
Drink for the cursed!

Drink when you win a fight!
Drink when you lose!
Drink when you've got no choices!
Drink when you choose!”

“Twilight!” Lyra yelled, interrupting the singing. “There you are!”

She was inebriated: her cheeks were ruddy, her eyes were wide, and her speech was more than a little slurred. Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“You ok there, Lyra?” she asked.

“I’m great!” Lyra replied with a grin. “I was just telling Dunar and Molvir about you!”

“Ah, this is the one?!” one of the moles - a slightly taller one with a long, greying beard - said, standing and approaching Twilight. “I am Molvir, High King of the Mol-kin! I hear you’re the one who approved the building of Mol Carstann!”

“Mol… Carstann?” Twilight repeated, too dumbfounded to realise that she was being addressed by a king.

“Oh, forgive me, they probably didn’t name it in front of you!” Molvir chuckled. “You called it the Smokey Mountain, didn’t you?”

“Oh,” Twilight said, nodding, “uh, yes. I was, Uh, pleased to help.”

“Help, yes!” Molvir grinned. “The more of our kin we get in new Mols the better!” He turned to the other moles. “Dunar!”

Another mole, slightly younger looking but with an equally commanding presence, stepped forward, before bowing to the collection of ponies.

“Dunar Sternhammer,” he introduced himself, his voice gruff and full of humour. “Mol of Mol Hydannik. Lyra Heartstrings tells us you’re the bearers of the Elements of Harmony!”

“That’s right,” Twilight said, throwing Lyra a look. She had the decency to look abashed, at least.

“We’re familiar with your magic trinkets,” Molvir said with a chuckle. “Very handy, from what I hear. Strange that Equestria should call for help, then, when you’ve got such tools at your disposal.”

Twilight felt the blood drain from her face. “I think that would be better saved for the Concordat meeting proper.”

“Heartstrings said the same,” Molvir said, his expression shrewd. “Clever. But I’m not an idiot, Sparkle. There’s only a few reasons why the mare holding the sun calls for help, and I’m guessing it’s because she’s found something big enough that we’ll all be wanting to pitch in. Or because we’ll all need to for it to not go totally beards up.”

“Oh, come on Molvir!” Dunar grinned. “Let’s not get tangled in politics, that’s going to bore the stone out of me!”

Molvir chuckled. “You’re right, Dunar.” He looked back to Twilight. “We’ll talk again, Element Bearer. No doubt there’ll be much to do before this is over!”

That said, he and Dunar tottered back to the crowds, hefting mugs of ale as they did so.

“Drink when the war is won!
Drink when it's lost!
Drink when the beer is free!
Drink when it costs!

Drink with your enemies!
Drink with your friends!
Drink when the drinking starts!
Drink when it ends!”

“Lyra,” Twilight said slowly, “what were you thinking, telling them who we were?”

“Is it a secret?” Lyra asked dumbly. “I mean… y’know. Who else would you be? Besides, Pinkie didn’t stop me.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Pinkie Pie is not good at deciding what not to tell ponies - or moles, as the case may be.”

“Hey!” Pinkie Pie said from next to Twilight, a frown of consternation on her face. “I resemble that remark!”

“Where’d you come from?” Twilight asked.

“My ears were burning,” Pinkie replied simply, as though this were obvious.

Twilight frowned in confusion. “What, you mean like a Pinkie sense?”

“No, I mean literally burning,” Pinkie replied. She tapped her ears. “Think that beer made them go funny.”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “You drank Stoneale, didn’t you?”

“Yupperoony!” Pinkie said with a grin. “Figured being a rock farmer’s daughter that stone ale would be right up my alley!”

Lyra sighed exaggeratedly. “Pinkie, Stoneale is literally magically liquefied sulphurs and other minerals that Moles dug up mixed with whiskey to create a cocktail. It’s not supposed to be drunk by other creatures.”

“Will she be ok?” Twilight asked.

“Of course she will,” Lyra said patiently. “She’ll just get random odd burning sensations just about everywhere at some point for the next four months.”

“Four months,” Twilight repeated. “Months?!”

“It’s minerals,” Lyra said, shrugging. “A lot of them take a while to work through the system. It’s why the only drink that moles drink with us is normally stuff like Ol’ Trotspur.”

“Drink when you're drinking!
Drink when you're drunk!
Drink when you're thinking!
Drink when you’ve thunk!”

Shaking her head as the moles kept singing, Twilight sighed.

“I’m sort of torn between thinking about how loud they all are and wondering why they think ‘thunk’ is a word,” she said.

Lyra grinned. “Don’t get too worried, Twilight. Moles are probably some of the best friends you could ever have in a…” She paused. “Well, a situation like we’re probably facing.”

“I’ll take your word for that, Lyra,” Twilight said softly. She looked around at the moles, all of them heavily armoured and armed, and sighed. “When did this become what we needed?”

“Drink when you're feeling fear!
Drink when you’re bold!
Drink when you're young and hale!
Drink when you're old!

Drink if the Gods’ll hear!
Drink if they won't!
Drink if they come for you!
Drink if they don't!”

***

Fort Fairpoint, May 19th, Year 3 of the New Diarchy Calendar.

Celestia took a sip of her drink, watching the distant road from her bedroom window. In the distance, she could see a convoy marching down the road towards the fortress: a convoy of Changelings. Many were the steely gunmetal of Hive Metaxis, but she could see envoys (and flags - surprisingly ostentatious ones for the Changelings) representing Hive Chrysalis, Hive Stinger, Hive Venom…

I should have figured they would be coming, Celestia thought, restraining the grimace that threatened to push its way onto her face. As if Metaxis would ever miss something this big.

“Worrying, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind her. Celestia glanced back, to see Arvalon of all horses standing behind her, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. He met her eyes. “To see them coming in such numbers. I’d wager there’s at least a thousand of Metaxis’ own personal guards.”

“The strongest changeling army in the world,” Celestia said quietly. “Yes, it is somewhat… disconcerting, to say the least.”

“You must have known they would come,” Arvalon said quietly.

“Oh, I expected them, yes,” Celestia said with a mirthless smile. “I might have hoped they would be disinclined to come.”

“Well, they seem more than ‘inclined’,” Arvalon said. He shook his head. “I could never seem to get over my discomfort around them, you know.”

“Not many can,” Celestia replied. “It’s part of what they are.”

“And yet here we are, called together - by you,” Arvalon said, raising an eyebrow at her. “One wonders just what threat is so great that the Mare Who Holds The Sun would call such ancient enemies together.”

Celestia smiled ruefully. “The Conclave will begin soon. And then, oh Prince, you will know.”

“Indeed I will,” Arvalon said, inclining his head. “Now if you will excuse me, I have arranged a meeting with the lovely Miss Heartstrings.”

“Yes, I had heard something about your ‘meetings’ with her,” Celestia said with a small frown. “Be careful you do not hurt her, Arvalon.”

“My dear Celestia, she knows what an acquaintance amongst my people is,” Arvalon said with a small chuckle. “She is enjoying our cultural exchange. Nothing more. Her… time with Elmas and I is no more or less important to her than her evening drinking with Dunar and Molvir. Which, by the way, I must join her in - her description of it was stupendous.”

Celestia sighed. “You had best be certain she remains unhurt, then. I shall hold you to account.”

“I will be the perfect gentlehorse, oh Princess,” Arvalon said with a bow. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

He turned to leave, and Celestia returned her attention to the approaching convoy of Changelings. With even them here, alongside the Fenri, the Horses, the Simosians, the Griffons… the conclave would be full, indeed.

Now all I have to do is convince them to join us, Celestia thought ruefully.

***

Taking Leave

“The good General thinks it takes whole armies to change outcomes. He doesn't think individuals can affect change. I disagree.”
David Elliot, The Avatar Of Albion.

It took David Elliot a good forty minutes to, briefly, explain the events of his time in Equestria. He’d left out some of the superfluous details, including (to Luna’s mixed chagrin and amusement) the fight between the Avatar and the two Princesses, but he was otherwise very thorough in his explanation of what had happened.

The part Luna hadn’t known, until he had explained it, was how he had come to be there in the first place. Apparently it had been a plan suggested in desperation by Hell Blazer, the yellow pony Luna had only met briefly in London. From the details Elliot was giving, Luna drew parallels with the story she had heard from Celestia, the memories the man had given to Twilight Sparkle.

It feels like so long ago, she thought wryly, though it has only been days. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she allowed herself the briefest of smiles. Time is such a fickle mistress.

“So,” Anderson finally said when Elliot had finished, “we have an entire nation of allies to call upon.”

He said this with a sceptical glance at Luna, who bristled at his tone.

“We will stand by your side in this dark hour,” she said at once. Her expression darkened. “I have seen the works of this ‘Solamina’ first-hoof now. I will not allow them to continue.” She met each of their eyes in turn. “My sister echoes my resolve in this matter.”

There was a pause as this oblique reference to a Celestia sank in. Elliot gave Luna a sidelong glance, and she met it: his expression was uncertain, but she simply smiled.

We have to make them get past their fear of my sister, she thought, however it can be done.

“Forgive me, Princess,” Representative Cheerilee put in after a long silence, “but your sister… Princess Celestia…”

“Can you really expect us to trust her?” Mr Sato put in, his tone even and polite even as he looked troubled. “Much as she may not be the enemy we have faced… rationality falls flat before the raw feelings of…”

He trailed off.

“Anger? Hatred? Homicidal loathing?” Elliot suggested with a tinge of bitter mirth.

“I would have said distrust,” Sato replied, his tone diplomatic, “but regardless, the strong feelings she will no doubt evoke in any she fights alongside are… a concern.”

“You surely also mean the feelings of distrust that I am already evoking in you?” Luna put in with her own wry smile, her eyes fixing on the politician’s: to his credit, he did not look away. “You do not believe we are here to help: you fear we are a trick of some kind.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Anderson said grouchily. His arms were folded. “All seems a bit too good to be true.”

Luna turned to look at him, before taking a deep breath.

“Do you know how many of our Royal Guards died fighting in your city, London?” When he didn’t answer, she scowled. “Four hundred and ninety three. Many more will be crippled for life, or bear permanent injury. That, General, is the blood price for our alliance, a price we paid willingly, without hesitation.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is it not good enough for you? Must we shed yet more before you will believe what we have to say? Tell me, how many of our soldiers must die to convince you of our goodwill?”

Anderson’s scowl softened. Sato looked down, shamefaced, and Cheerilee’s face fell into a sorrowful, crumpled expression.

“We don’t mean to question your dedication, your highness,” she said, her voice gentle and quiet. “Epona knows we did not mean offence.”

“I understand that,” Luna said quietly.

“Then you also have to understand our position,” Cheerilee said quietly. “We… we don’t get ‘help’. Not from the rest of Equus, so fixated on their own borders as they are. Not from anypony, anyone, anywhere.” Her eyes betrayed something that might have been hope and fear mixed into one. “To receive it from another universe, something we thought of as the stuff of fiction…”

“But I am not fiction, Representative,” Luna cut her off. “Am I?”

“No,” Cheerilee said after a moment. “It would seem you’re not.”

“So much of what’s happened to both our worlds is beyond what we could ever have imagined,” Sato cut in, his expression thoughtful. “To believe this… it does not seem so beyond the realms of possibility. Though it is certainly convenient.”

“Convenience would have had us have this alliance years ago,” Elliot cut in, his expression suddenly morose. “Or have us have some weapon against the Barrier, against the potion. This is many things, Councillor, but not convenient.” He gave another, rueful, smile. “More of a ‘last throw of the dice’, really.”

“Perhaps,” Cheerilee said diplomatically. “But last throw or not, it is welcome.”

“I am glad you think so,” Luna said, “for there is little time to convince you.” She took a breath. “If your enemy is Celestia, corrupted and maddened as she might be, then she might well be the greatest threat in the history of either world.”

“Gee, we hadn’t guessed,” Anderson muttered. Luna scowled at him, but he just sneered. “We’ve been fighting her for damn near a decade, ma’am. We know what she is.”

“Perhaps you think so,” Luna said, “but you have never sprung this kind of surprise upon her. She will react very quickly to this threat: quickly enough, I fear, that you may be unable to stop her.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Sato asked.

Luna took another deep breath. “My sister has already summoned the Conclave of Fairpoint: the leaders of our free Equus. She will attempt to call upon them for aid.”

“But?” Cheerilee asked. Luna blinked at her. “There is a but there, isn’t there, Princess?”

Luna nodded slowly. “They will need proof.”

“Proof of what’s happening here?” Sato asked, frowning. “Wouldn’t Celestia's word, or your word, do?”

“Does it do for the Griffon Empire here?” Luna asked in return.

“Oh, they know what’s happening here, don’t worry,” Cheerilee said dryly. “They just don’t bucking care.”

“Well, the Griffons of my Equus do not know,” Luna said quietly. “And so proof we must send.”

“One of our soldiers would suffice,” Elliot said quietly. “Given truth serum of some kind - I’ll assume your Equestria has that?” At Luna’s nod, he continued. “One of our soldiers, giving sworn testimony…”

“One of your unit, I would say, Major,” Anderson said. “I think it best that we send someone with experience with you.”

“And a human,” Cheerilee added. “So that they know what - and whom - it is they’re helping.”

“Agreed,” Sato added. He looked to Elliot. “Any thoughts? You have a good few soldiers under your command who might -”

“Eric,” Elliot replied at once.

Sato blinked, before looking at Anderson with a quizzical frown.

“Ser Eric is one of the lead Iron Clads we have in your group,” Anderson said slowly. “Are you sure you can spare him?”

“He’d literally never forgive me if I let someone else go to another world instead of him,” Elliot said immediately. His cheerful expression dimmed somewhat. “And… well, if any of us deserves to go see somewhere that isn’t this place, it’s him. He’s earned that.”

Anderson nodded. “Very well. We’ll make the arrangements.”

“Very good,” Luna said. “Having met Ser Eric, I have no doubt he will be an excellent spokesbeing for your people.”

Murmured of agreement echoed from around the table for a moment. Then Anderson took a deep breath.

“Right,” he said. “We have some calls to make, Princess, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Luna said, inclining her head. “I thank you for your time. Major,” she added, turning to Elliot, “I will wait for you outside.”

Without another word, she turned and left the room, her mind racing as she began planning the next move. She would have to go back to London to start, and speak with Charlie Horse about the setup and disposition of their forces.

We have made a promising start, but that is all it is, she thought. We must find a way to capitalise on our victories here, else we be undone.

***

“Major,” Anderson said after a moment, “how the fuck do you pull shit like this off?”

Elliot shrugged. “No idea, sir. Maybe I’m just lucky.”

“Lucky my arse,” Anderson snorted. “You live a fuckin’ charmed life, Major.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it, but I can’t argue with results.”

“Indeed, there is certainly an inordinately high level of good fortune in you having brokered this alliance,” Sato added, nodding slowly. “But you realise it is only the beginning.”

“I know,” Elliot said heavily. He sighed. “Believe me, after London, I know.”

“We will be awaiting your report on that, Major,” Anderson said. “In the meantime, however -”

“In the meantime, General,” Elliot cut him off, “I have a request to make of the council.”

Anderson blinked at the interruption, and didn’t reply. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again.

“A request, Major?” Cheerilee said after a moment. “What sort of request?”

Elliot gave a rueful smile. “Fair warning, sir. You’re not going to like it.”

***

Lyra had been looking for David ever since she had parted company with Luna, hoping to speak to him. After London, with everything that had happened, they hadn’t exactly had the chance to sit down and talk. She still wasn’t entirely certain she didn’t want to kick him for thinking he could just go to Equestria and kill Solamina on his own.

Idiot, she thought, scowling. If he had died, she would never have forgiven him.

She eventually found David packing a kit bag in one of the many tertiary locker rooms, his shotgun left to one side, his hand cannon to another. He looked determined, resolute even.

That means trouble, Lyra thought. She had seen that expression plenty of times.

“Going somewhere?” she asked him.

“Sort of, yeah,” he said without looking up. “Spoke with the Council, and they’ve agreed to give me some leave time.”

Lyra blinked. “You’re taking leave?!”

Elliot smirked, not looking around as he packed his bag. He grabbed a spare shirt from his locker and looking at it for a moment.

“I know, Lyra,” he said, shoving the shirt into the backpack. “It’s a strange time to pick.”

“It’s more than strange,” Lyra’s voice said, sounding strained. “David… we need you! You’re our forces’ commander, you’re the Avatar -”

“And,” Elliot cut her off, “I am not good enough.”

Lyra’s eyes, if it were possible, widened even further. “That… you…”

There were so many things she wanted to say. You are good enough! You’re a brilliant, selfless man, you’re braver than anyone I’ve ever known, you’ve got a jawline to die for…

“I was barely strong enough to hold off a False Alicorn,” Elliot continued before she could say anything at all. “Against Solamina, what hope do you think I have?”

Lyra pursed her lips. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like this.”

It wasn’t the first time the problem had come up. Every time he coughed blood, every time he felt weakened, every time his strength, formidable as it was, fell short of whatever standards he was holding himself to, this was the conversation they had.

“You've always been too hard on yourself,” Lyra said softly, her eyes wide and full of something unidentifiable. “It's one of your most endearing traits, actually.”

Elliot laughed. “Endearing. That's a word.”

“One of many,” Lyra agreed. “You -”

She paused, and Elliot looked down at her with a frown.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

Lyra said nothing for a moment, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

She laughed bitterly. “Shouldn’t it be me asking you that? You’re the one talking about taking leave because you’re ‘not good enough’.”

“Yeah, I’m past the ‘being shouted at by Anderson’ phase, I’m fine,” he shrugged. “You - you look like you want to break something.”

“You could say that,” Lyra chuckled bitterly. Her smile faded. “I just…” She paused. “Where will you go? I mean, you’re not just planning on going to a pub and getting wasted, right?”

He laughed at that. “No, nothing like that.”

“Well, then, what?” Lyra asked.

Elliot paused, considering her words, before he nodded slowly.

“Alright,” he finally said. “You know these powers come from a mythological source, right?”

“Well, Excalibur is Arthurian mythology,” Lyra said, frowning. “So…?”

“So, I’ve been speaking with Rupert and a few of the other people in the Archives for the last year or so,” Elliot said quietly. “And we’re all convinced that not only is this weapon the Excalibur - the same Blade wielded by King Arthur - but that it’s possible that… well, that Merlin exists, too.”

Lyra blinked. “Merlin… King Arthur’s court wizard, basically?”

“Something like that,” Elliot said, nodding. “He was supposed to have been sealed away for eternity, right? So our thought process was that if we found him -”

“He might be able to help you become more powerful?” Lyra finished, now frowning again. “David… that’s a long shot. A really long shot.”

“I know,” Elliot agreed. “But it might be the best chance I have of learning what I need in order to…” He trailed off momentarily, his expression hardening. “To finish it. Once and for all.”

Lyra was still frowning. “That’s… David, where do you even begin searching?”

Elliot sighed. “I don’t know. But I spoke with Rupert and John, and they both think I might be able to… ‘sense him out’, I guess?” He chuckled. “‘Feel the Force’ and all that.”

Lyra nodded, her expression softening. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to go with you, then.”

Elliot blinked in surprise. “You will?”

“You don’t seriously think I’m letting you go off on a wild goose chase on your own?” Lyra asked, smirking at him. “David, the last time I let you go off without me, you ended up in another Equestria -”

“Which turned out well for us!” he protested.

“Yeah, only after you getting lost for far too long and scaring us all half to death,” she laughed. “I’m with you all the way. Wherever your crazy quest thing takes us.”

Elliot sputtered for a moment, but finally he smiled.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Lyra.”

She beamed up at him, happy to see him smiling at all.

Whatever else happened after today, she would remember this forever.

Canterlot Palace, Throne Room.

Twilight Sparkle motioned to her guards to wait outside the Empress’ throne room. Despite everything that she and the Empress had shared over the course of the last decade, she felt a wave of trepidation as she stood on the threshold.

How will she react? she wondered. How would… how would any of us react to this news?

The reports she had received were fragmentary at best, but everything they pointed to… none of it was good. None of it was even approaching good. And some of it was beyond belief.

Still: she had a duty to perform. Reaching out, she knocked on the door to the chamber with her hoof. Once, twice, a third time. A deathly silence fell over the entire hall, and Twilight could hear the creaks of metal as her guards fidgeted uncomfortably behind her.

And then, the door opened. A tall figure in shining silver armour was there, gazing down at Twilight imperiously.

“Twilight Sparkle,” said the False Alicorn guard. “Our lady awaits.”

Twilight inclined her head. “I look forward to meeting with her.”

The False Alicorn said nothing, instead stepping aside from the doorway and permitting Twilight entry into the throne room. She didn’t even look at the False Alicorn as she passed, instead for using her attention forward.

Sat upon her throne, reading a parchment, was the figure of another Alicorn. An alabaster coat and multi-coloured mane glinted in the evening light, and she wore golden battle armour. Her helm was set aside, placed on the arm of her throne, and she was smiling.

“Twilight Sparkle,” Astra Solamina Maxima said without looking up, her voice melodious and calm. “How good to see you, my faithful student.”

Twilight kept trotting forward until she reached the foot of the throne, and then she stopped, abasing herself into a deep bow.

“My lady,” she said reverently. “I am at your command.”

“My faithful Twilight,” Solamina said quietly, still smiling. “Let me guess. You come to bring me news of our stunning defeat at the hands of the humans at London.”

Twilight did not rise from her bow, but her eyes widened in horror.

“You… you knew about that,” she whispered.

“Naught can happen within the bounds of my infinite rule that I am not aware of, darling Twilight,” Solamina said benevolently. “All reports pass to me in time. But I am pleased that you are here.” She paused. “Have you a reckoning of our losses?”

“I… yes, my lady,” Twilight said, rising slowly and hesitantly. “Thirty one of your chosen, and eighteen hundred and twelve regular soldiers.”

“Eighteen hundred and twelve,” Solamina repeated with a sigh. “Eighteen hundred and twelve beautiful, unique creatures snuffed from existence - and that, only our own losses. How many more humans have we slain that might have been granted salvation, do you think?”

Twilight swallowed. “Our estimates are in the high hundreds to low thousands.”

Solamina shook her head sadly. “Such a waste. Such a terrible, terrible waste.” She paused, before frowning ever-so slightly at Twilight. “And our officers?”

Twilight’s expression became morose. “Commanders Pie and Sentry were slain.”

“Dear, dear,” that calm, all-too-quiet voice spoke. “My finest soldiers defeated, two of my best commanders killed. London stands, even after such a monumental attack by my forces. Truly, a shocking defeat, Twilight.”

“Y-yes, my lady,” the unicorn said, stammering slightly in fear.

There was a long, all-too-tense pause. Then, impossibly, Solamina let out a gentle, melodious laugh.

“It matters not, my little pony,” she said after a moment. “Whatever victory humanity thinks it has won for itself, it cannot win forever. Not against us. Not against me.”

“Y-yes, my lady,” Twilight said. “However, there… there is another concern.”

Solamina nodded slowly. “Speak.”

Twilight swallowed nervously. “The reports we have from the field indicate that… that there were Royal Guardsponies among the enemy. In old armour, from pre-Imperial Equestria.”

Solamina did not respond for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

“Royal Guardsponies,” she finally said. “Guardsponies… in the old diarchy colours. An odd choice indeed.”

Twilight didn’t reply, instead waiting for her Empress to speak again. When she did, it was in a more grim tone.

“This is troublesome indeed, Twilight,” she said, “and implies that there is more going on here than meets the eye. Is there anything else I need to know?”

Twilight wet her lips nervously. “There are rumours that an Alicorn matching the description of Princess Luna was among the enemy.”

Solamina took a deep breath. “Luna. Is that so.”

“It… it might have been a trick,” Twilight said, “some sort of illusion, but -”

“Regardless of what it is,” Solamina cut Twilight off, her tone becoming colder. “Regardless of what it could be… it requires our attention.” She took a breath. “I will begin my own research, dearest Twilight, and we shall get to the bottom of this affair.”

The purple unicorn breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. “You are wise in all things, my lady. I have no doubt we will discover the truth with ease.”

“Your faith in me is humbling, Twilight,” Solamina said evenly. “And I shall continue to do my best to be worthy of it.” She paused. “The commander of the attack - it was your brother, wasn’t it?”

“He was overall Commander, yes,” Twilight said slowly.

“In that case,” Solamina said, still smiling, “I would like you to work with him. Find out what went wrong - find out if there is anything we can do to avoid a repeat of this… unfortunate defeat. Especially in light of the information you have brought.”

“Yes, my lady,” Twilight said at once.

“After that, my little pony,” the Empress continued in an almost motherly tone, “I want you to go to your family and rest. You have a friend to mourn.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Twilight said, bowing gratefully to her Empress.

“Come now, Twilight,” Solamina said with a soft smile. “We are friends. Though these are dark times, we cannot lose sight of our friendship.” Her voice took on an odd tone. “It is the greatest advantage that we have over our enemies.”

“Yes, my lady… Solamina,” Twilight corrected herself.

“With that in mind, I think it would be interesting if, for old time's sake, you write me a friendship report,” Solamina said. “As a… memento to your lost friend, perhaps.”

“I will get right to it,” Twilight promised with a smile. “You'll have it as soon as possible, I promise.”

“Good,” Solamina said. “Go now. Do not worry overmuch about your tasks for the moment… I would hate to put more stress upon your already burdened shoulders.”

With a final bow, Twilight turned and left the throne room, leaving her Empress in peace. Her mind was already racing with thoughts for her friendship report. Perhaps an essay on the most cherished memories she had shared with Pinkie…?

Alone, Astra Solamina Maxima simply smiled.

So, this time they send armies to the aid of the humans, she thought, returning to her throne without another word. This should be very, very interesting.

Author's Notes:

So… yeah. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I know it’s been forever, but what can I say - I felt the urge. Sort of, anyway. I’ll explain elsewhere, another time.