The transition from day to night was so gradual that it was no wonder that Blue had not noticed it before. But Coalburst had been right when she claimed that the evening was slightly darker and fairly significantly colder; where before, it had been easy to tell shapes apart, now only the larger ones could be discerned. It was a subtle change, and would easily have been missed if Blue had not woken up to it being so different.

To walk was, as such, a bit of an issue. She trod after the stallion before her with her teeth clamped around the handle of her tiny knife, pain interrupting her motion every other second. The rocks, concealed by the tattered black veil of night, were evil little things; it was almost as if they were purposely attacking her.

In truth, Coalburst and RipEar walked a little lamely too, their own hooves not spared the pain. But, along with Blue, they stumbled on in silence, none complaining.

As she noticed that she'd trodden out of RipEar's path a little, Blue scurried back behind him just before he turned around. Watching slowly, he then waited as Coalburst hobbled after the mare, her horn alight. She was hardly awake and tripped to and fro on her three legs. Still, she struggled onwards, a young soldier.

"So, here's the deal," RipEar whispered as he nodded up to the tunnel in the hillside. They now stood at the base of a slope which led up to it; there was no doubt where they were headed. "The tunnel's overrun by... a group of bandits, I'll call them. Our job's simple; we've just gotta wipe them all out."

Blue frowned as she followed the stallion's gaze. She knew that tone too well; it was the same one he'd used to wish her a good night the day he broke her out of the facility. "What aren't you telling us?" she hissed after she spat out the blade and eyed him warily as he clutched his dagger tightly with his magic. But he made no move to respond—not at first.

Beginning to walk up the slope, his body pressed against the wall, he finally spoke once more. "Keep an eye out when we go inside. The reward for the mission's weapons, but the villagers said that they're more than happy to let us take any pickings in there."

Blue nodded quietly, though RipEar could not see that anyway. She then let out a breath, heart pounding in her chest, and flared out her wings as she walked with more determination. This was a fantastic opportunity, both to train and to prove herself. Though the village admired her actions earlier on, they were hardly enough to inspire faith in her. She needed this mission, needed to come out of it with an arsenal of 'pickings', if only to show that she could be an asset.

Fluffing up her feathers as she scaled the slope, the air harsh and biting, Blue tried not to let herself get carried away. She gave RipEar her most confident smile—which was quite evidently wobbly—when she met him at the peak of the slope and then followed his lead as he crouched. Her legs burned immediately, but she couldn't focus on that now.

Pressing herself up against the rocky wall, Blue continued without complaint. She had to fight not to tremble as the shade of the tunnel encased her, cold and, when mixed with the bite of the wind, almost painful. But her blood pounded thick and fast in her veins and her body quivered at even the slightest little sound; whatever foe she was up against, she was ready.

As she crept after RipEar, Blue couldn't help but notice the way his ears only flicked about occasionally while her own shot all around. She had no time to ponder it, however, as a sudden whistle sounded from the right. She snapped her gaze around and leapt backwards, brandishing her knife, and had just enough time to see the small green flames which zipped through the air. They smashed into RipEar, sending him hurtling to the floor with a yell.

With a hiss the stallion rolled over and leapt to his hooves, skidding a few metres as he thrust the knife forwards. He spun as it connected with his attacker's flesh and then bolted, his head snaking as he jerked the dagger out.

Blue watched on in horror as the small creature's full-blue eyes widened; its fanged lips parted before it crashed to the floor. Blood pooled on the rock from its mouth and neck, its body convulsing. But there was no time to worry as a second bombardment came.

"Go! Go!"

Coalburst barreled past as more black creatures shot forwards. She threw her head backwards as her shoulder crashed against the rough wall; she gasped and flames burst forth from her horn as a creature zipped closer. It howled as it was struck and it smashed to the ground, its fangs grazing at Blue's legs as she caught up. With a yell, she bucked immediately in mid-stride; she could only scream as her hoof connected with something warm. Jerking her head backwards, her grey eyes widened as the onslaught raced closer.

Encased in flames of green, the tiny black creatures, no bigger than small cats, hissed as they attacked. One struck Coalburst's flank and slashed its fangs over her skin. She gasped immediately and swung her head around, blasting it with her own flames. Thrown from her back, the blazing creature smashed into its approaching comrades with a heavy thwap. The creatures' agonised roars were deafening, their flesh smouldering as they were flung from the air and left to writhe on the freezing floor.

But one still struggled on, buzzing behind frantically before it then shot in front, its maw opened with fangs that glinted in the firelight. Blue screamed as she careened into it; she bucked and shook her head as the fangs impaled into her chest. She only squealed even louder before she then struck downwards with her tiny knife and slashed at any skin she could. But it was no good; the creature still clung on, digging its underdeveloped but razor-like fangs in ever deeper.

"The wall, Blue!" Coalburst screamed and angled her horn downwards as she galloped. But the mare did not hear her cries; still she slashed blindly with her feeble weapon. And so, with a yell, Coalburst pounced on the mare, the jump powerful enough to smash Blue against the wall. The creature bellowed momentarily as it was crushed in between before it fell to the floor in a heap. Orange flames then burst up around it and charred the flesh instantly.

Blue whimpered and panted as she looked down at the creature which thrashed and screamed. It was hideous, but her burning chest was even worse. Blood flowed in torrents and splattered against the floor as the two shot away from the carnage and screams. But she did not look, could not; she had to keep conscious for this.

RipEar was nowhere to be seen now, chased off down the corridors. So far behind already, Coalburst and Blue could do nothing to help him—but that wasn't to say they couldn't help themselves. And so, as they slowed to a brisk and skittish walk, they kept their eyes peeled for any turnings off the beaten track. There was supposed to be loot here, after all.

The first few turnings, as well as being deserted, were completely devoid of anything valuable. The third, however, held much more promise; at the end of a long corridor a wooden door stood tall, but it was not enough to hide the buzzing coming from within. And so, with an evident gulp, the two took a few steps backwards and let the door slide open.

The swarm was immediate. Black creatures shot forwards, their fangs exposed as they dove as one unit. It was barely a second before Coalburst leapt into action, though, and her flames roared into life all around. They lurched at the swarm, scalding flesh and burning the fragile wings to dust. They fell immediately and smashed to the ground with heavy thuds. But they were not done as the clambered onto their smouldering hooves and tripped forwards.

Blue—blood still oozed from her chest—lobbed the small knife with all of her might. It dug deep into one creature's massive blue eye and sent it reeling backwards, its actions enough to disorientate its comrades briefly. But it was not enough; still they swarmed out of the room, those acrid green flames wrapped around their frames.

Blue's world spun as she turned on the spot. She raised a forehoof, whimpering all the while, and and flared out her wings in an attempt to bolt. But Coalburst was quick to react and yelled, "Blue! Wait there!" She then paused for a moment before she finished, "Just wait there and trust me!"

Gritting her teeth, she raised a rear hoof unsteadily and, whilst her gaze zipped all about, did reluctantly as she was told—Coalburst was better at this survival lark than she was. She struggled to keep still as she heard the creatures' grumbles and groans approaching closer and very nearly lost her resolve when she could feel the tender nips of hot breath on her fur. But she had to prove herself, had to survive, and so she struck, bucking with as much force as she could muster. She shuddered as her hooves collided with flesh and crashed to the ground on her knees as her forelegs gave way. It was too much; she screamed when yet more pain raced through her body and she shot up into the air unsteadily. But Coalburst, once again, knew what to do. She grabbed Blue's hoof in her magic and, with a grunt of pressure, commanded her to dive.

Blue folded her wings to her side slowly and whimpered as she clenched her eyes shut. It was only a moment before she smashed into the swarm of grounded creatures and crushed them with her weight.

"Pull up, Blue!" Coalburst yelped as she watched with widened eyes. She was only able to yank one grub from Blue's side before she yelled, "Watch out!"

As she squinted her eyes open, Blue hissed and snapped out her wings. But she got nowhere this time, her flank attacked by a horde of the creatures as she made to fly up. They dug their fangs into her flesh, dragging her back down to the ground as her blood coated their muzzles.

The pain... It was everywhere! Her chest, her flank, her hoof, her shoulder... But pain was good. Pain meant she was still alive.

The creatures leapt upon her like vultures on carrion as she trembled and whimpered under their immense weight. Her bones strained and screamed as she fought not to collapse, the sheer weight of the creatures nearly overwhelming, the agony threatening to shut down her mind. But, when she called out desperately to the filly for help, the only reply she got was "Just stay still for a second!"

Fangs slashed at her skin; many tiny hooves bludgeoned her body and teeth yanked on her mane. But still she waited.  And then, when her entire body was engulfed by the black creatures, she bronced*.

As she launched herself into the stale air with every meagre ounce of wing power that she had, Blue screamed. The creatures' cries were louder, though, as she smashed herself into the ceiling and they fell from her back to the ground in explosions of dust. And so, as particularly large fangs imbedded themselves into her wither, Blue cried out again and rammed herself into the side wall . Blood spurted freely from yet another wound and she bellowed, her world now spinning out of control—but she wouldn't pass out.

She could do this. She had to do this.

Blue wailed as she snapped her wings shut and began to plummet immediately. She hastened to spin in midair, and clutched the remaining creatures close to her chest; a second later they collided with the ground, the hit so great that pebbles shook from the ceilings.

Blue moaned and lay still for a few seconds, her body so agonised that she was surely encased in Coalburst's flames. As she struggled to stand, she then looked down and promptly gagged, seeing the blood-stained skin of her fallen enemies. Stumbling off from on top of them, many alive but broken, she spun away, her head falling as she groaned. Her world slipped in and out of focus.

Her blood was everywhere.

"Blue? Blue?" Coalburst's cries were barely louder than a whisper in the mare's ears; she could not hear anything over the frantic pounding of her heart. She could feel herself falling back into the abyss of panic again. Nothing but her own terror was real.

Coalburst winced at the sight of Blue's wounds and hurried to catch her in magic when the mare's legs buckled. Then straining to keep her standing, she began to pick her way through the bloodied mattress of bodies. The surviving creatures, not quite crushed to death, still attacked feebly, despite their mangled and broken corpses. But they were no challenge now; a swift blow to the head with the handle of Blue's knife was enough to knock the tiny things unconscious, if not outright dead.

As she approached the wooden door with a groan and a hiss, Coalburst dumped Blue down outside before she slowly stepped forwards. It was pitch black now; she lit her horn quickly before she took a deep breath and leapt around the corner into the room.

Coalburst skidded the last few metres and yelped as her eyes landed upon one last, final creature. It sat cowering at the back of the room, even smaller than the rest of its comrades—half the size of the foal herself, even. But it was a foe all the same and Coalburst wasted no time in hurling the bloodied knife towards it.

The creature hissed as the blade shaved across its ear; it nicked the flesh and drew a trickle of blood. Then it stumbled to its hooves and lowered its head; with a tiny roar, which could almost be referred to as a whimper, it galloped forwards with weak, underdeveloped hind legs.

And then it halted in mid-jump; its fluttering wings froze as small flames leaked from its mouth. It smashed down to the ground and yelped as its wing was crushed, snapping. Then screaming, its voice still high pitched and childlike, it sauntered forwards again.

Coalburst was ready. As she lit her horn, she gritted her teeth before the next ball of flames was released. It crashed into the creature's side and scalded its disintegrating skin. She then leapt forwards as the fire snuffed itself out; her eyes glinted in her horn's light. She stopped at the creature's side, reared up and smashed her hooves against the thing's hole-ridden wither. She threw it to the ground, it having no fight left now, then spun and struck again with her rear hooves. Her aim was true; the creature's life was extinguished with a single, heavy blow to the neck.

Broken.

Coalburst let out a breath and winced at the sight. Shaking herself off quickly, now aware of the sweat on her fur, she hurled the body outside for good measure. Then she wrapped her magic around Blue and heaved her across the uneven floor. She closed the door behind her.

As she strained to produce more light from her horn, Coalburst finally let herself stop for a minute. She collapsed to the floor next to Blue's bloodied body and then hissed quietly at the sight which met her eyes. The mare's coat, previously light grey and only off-pink in places, was now more crimson than pale. Her chest still oozed, though was at least slowing in its flow; her flank was less forgiving, blood cascading from at least ten puncture wounds. Even the small patches of unstained fur were coloured now; purple, of course.

Wincing at Blue's state, Coalburst stood up and hastened to look around the room. It was a large space—had to be, to have housed so many of the creatures. It was reasonably well decked out, too; an old, falling-apart wooden bench was positioned at the back of the room, fixed in position by two heavy metal chests. On the rocky wall above the chair, two yellowed posters were plastered.

The first, a century old painting of Celestia, standing tall amidst the chaos of battle. She looked directly at the viewer with her lips curved up in a slight smile, and the words printed around the edge read, "Won't you be my hero?"

The second, a pure white unicorn stallion with hair and hooves of blue, donning silver armour and rearing up. His horn alight, his eyes were blazing as he, too, bored deep into the viewer's soul. The poster's caption explained his thoughts; "Warrior mares... I, for one, find them charmingly rustic."

Coalburst squinted as she read the words slowly; her brain almost ached at the difficulties it caused her. It wasn't that she was unintelligent—far from it, in fact— but rather that she had never properly learnt. There hadn't been much reason to, really.

An old arrivals and departures board hung from the ceiling. Completely black, it undoubtedly did not work any more; whether it had ever done its job, Coalburst didn't really know. This place was surely some old train station, but there weren't any tracks in sight.

A moment later, though, her interest was redirected towards the wall to her right. Cloaked in darkness, an old machine, rusted around the edges, stood. It towered above her, would even have looked down on Blue or RipEar. But, rather than being an intimidating presence, it was just as uplifting as the metal chests.

Her limbs felt heavy, especially her rear leg. But Blue, though surely not quite at risk of bleeding out, was in a bad state; at the very least, if she lost much more blood, she'd be too weak to continue the job—a great issue. Now that they had already entered this place, there was to be no going back.

Changelings weren't known for their forgiving nature.

As she hopped lamely to the first steel chest, Coalburst fought not to let her leg buckle. With both the magical and the physical strain, she really needed a rest—but, for now, that had to wait. Instead she called upon her magic once again and wrapped a small ball of flames around the steel padlock. She closed her eyes and fought to heighten the intensity of the fire; she grunted but managed to keep it burning strong for at least ten seconds. Then she gasped, her reserves exhausted, and her legs crumpled as she fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Blue's blood still drained from her wounds, steadily and without sign of stopping. The flow was too thick and fast, and should have at least started to slow by now; Coalburst immediately shuddered and her mind wandered to potential explanations. Toxins in the changelings' fangs, for example, could easily have caused such a reaction—or, perhaps more fittingly, lack of response.

Coalburst looked back up to the lock and beamed when she saw its half-melted state. Then she placed her hooves on the lid, she pushed upwards with every ounce of strength her body possessed.

At first, the filly's endeavours bore no fruits—but then, after a few seconds of straining, the chest began to creak open. It moved sluggishly, too heavy really for a foal to open. Nevertheless, Coalburst did not give in and she urged her small body to get to the chest's contents; with a final heave the part-melted lock and rusted edges surrendered at last.

For a few minutes, the filly could do nothing but wait. The room was black again now without the soft light of her horn; there was no way she could see a thing. As her magic slowly recovered, though—at least enough to make a small glow—she scrambled into action.

The chest, it transpired, was an absolute treasure trove. Never before opened, it was filled to the brim with all kinds of medical goodies; bandages, scalpels, eye dressings... The list was extensive. It was clearly no standard-issue medical box; this was a chest designed to treat war wounds. It came as no surprise, of course; the posters were quite evident propaganda.

Nuzzling around in the chest, Coalburst's mind soon began to wander. Perhaps, she reasoned, this had been intended to be a train line to transport troops back in the war. It certainly made sense; it explained the furniture and the untouched state of the chests, at least.

Coalburst's eyes sparkled as her gaze landed upon a cylindrical tub and her tail wagged slowly as she drew it out. It had laid at the very bottom of the chest and the filly had had no choice but to remove it with her hooves; her magic was not strong enough to accomplish anything else.

Holding it up to her face where the small light was brightest, Coalburst narrowed her eyes and skim-read the vague label; antiseptic cream was the only details it gave. She grinned and then turned it over to open the lid before she paused; her hoof came to rest just beside some small words engraved into the plastic.

Expiry date: 1021 ANM

Coalburst frowned, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat. "ANM" she recognised immediately, as most foals could—the year of Nightmare Moon. The number, though... That was something of a struggle.

Though her mother had told her more than once what year it was, Coalburst had never paid much attention. As such, she could only stare down at the number quietly, trying to puzzle it out. Nightmare Moon had been imprisoned for one thousand years, and the war began after she had returned. The outbreak had been about a century ago. That put the year now up to at least 1100.

Which, by extension, immediately out-ruled the cream.

With a hiss, Coalburst leapt up and gave a small cry as she bucked the pot away. It smashed against the wall with a loud bang, the noise echoing around the room and making the filly wince. She then clamped her tail and froze; her eyes shot to the door.

Coalburst sighed when no further onslaught of changeling hatchlings came and soon turned her attention back to the open chest. Then she scarpered over and dug around hastily for something—anything—which she could now use as a back up plan. There was not time to wait for her magic and strength to be restored; she had to act right away. And such an item soon presented itself, though it made the filly feel queasy; a small but deadly sharp knife.

Holding the blade carefully in her teeth, Coalburst hopped over to the rotting bench. Then she snapping a small fragment of wood from the seat easily and hopped lamely over to Blue's side. She jabbed the mare's side with her hoof and sighed when she made no reaction, still unconscious. Trembling, Coalburst then steadied her gaze upon the knife and called upon her magic.

Power rose up into her horn slowly, not really strong enough for the task at hand, but Coalburst knew that she had to work quickly. She struggled to make a few small embers on top of the rotten wood and then waited quietly as the flame slowly began to grow. Smoke was given off almost immediately; she could worry about that later.

Coalburst held the knife's blade in the feeble flame until it just started to glow a very pale red. With a gulp, she then held it in her hooves and inched closer to Blue. With a second jab to be sure that she was still unconscious, the filly then fought to ignore the nausea as she placed the knife down on the first bleeding puncture in Blue's chest. She removed it after a few seconds, then took a deep breath before going in once again.

Shuddering even more as the chest wound stopped bleeding—the room now smelled faintly of burnt flesh—she returned her attention to the flame. As she reheated the blade, tears began to glisten in her eyes; it was a feat to focus and keep calm as she tapped the wounds again with hooves which shuddered violently. Her tears splashed down thick and fast onto the mare's blood-soaked fur. But she could not stop; she had to help.

Returning the knife to the flames for the last time, Coalburst's breath hitched in her throat as Blue twitched slightly. Tears then cascaded from her eyes as she placed the knife down on the remaining deep puncture wound; at first, the mare did not respond. But, as the filly pressed the searing blade down one final time to close it up, Blue stirred at last; she screamed, wings flaring out as she shot away.

Coalburst let the knife slip from her hooves as the mare leapt about; terror raged in her eyes as she bucked and snaked her head. All the while the little filly moaned and quivered, her vision now completely blurred from the tears.

It was a few minutes before Blue even began to calm down. With tears glistening in her own eyes and an even more evident limp, she walked towards Coalburst with gritted teeth. She ground them together before she then lay down with stiff legs and moaned; her head flopped to the floor as she looked at the agonised little filly. She knew what Coalburst had done; she knew why she had done it, too.

And so, though she couldn't help but eye her warily, Blue shuffled closer slowly. She bit back a yell, not helped when she noticed the blood-soaked state of her coat, as she draped her wing across the filly's back. She pulled her a little closer and tried to smile in as gentle a manner as possible—but when she noticed the way her slightly reddened feathers left a trail on Coalburst's fur she drew back. The filly only moaned and scooted a little closer to the mare, burying her head under the warm wing; she cuddled up, completely unfazed by the blood.

And so Blue let out a breath and wrapped her neck around the little foal. She was weak, the blood on her fur thick and sticky and far from ignorable. But she had to be strong, and she would fight the nausea. Because, at the end of the day, she had to protect this brave filly who now lay quivering at her side.