Author's Notes:

Features battle music as and added bonus.
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The Hours That Have Passed
The sun was setting as night fell in its place. A pony sat on atop a boulder working her armor while the other one, resting in the grass, began to come to. He groaned as he slowly, and a bit painfully, rolled himself over, eyes opening falling on Adridge. She was staring off into the distance They were hidden at the base of a mountain beneath a foliage of tree and bushes with a clearing just for them. He looked in the distance and saw dotted figures lining the horizon marching across slowly making their way past them, and as Adridge looked on, black tinted tools, a pry and a cutter worked on her armor. Broken arrows littered the ground, all coated in blood.

“I see the day is lost,” he said. “Thank you Adrdige, for saving my life.” His back ached from the numerous arrows but he no longer bled. Beneath the scorched, dying feathers of his left wing, a bird shifted and made its way out. Lindestic breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn’t expected the cardinal to live through the blast but seeing as it did brought just that much more light to his predicament.

It hopped to his chest, eyes still closed, feathers fully grown, and in the softest parts of his fur it nestled down and began to rest as he cradled it in his hoof. With the army advancing past them and the sun still setting Adridge spoke up, “Why?” A piece of her armor snapped and fell to the ground as shrapnel. Her armor had been warped and stuck fast to her body with a sizable blast mark in its side leaving her extremely vulnerable to her already burnt skin.

Confused, he asked, “What do you mean?”

She pointed a hoof and clarified, “The bird, Lindestic. Why do you care so much? So easily forgettable yet you keep to it as your own.” Another piece of metal snapped and her armor slackened from her body slightly. “It should have died that night, in the rage of the storm. Yet, you intervened with nature and now it wont go. Its weak Lindestic, you hear? Can’t even open its eyes and won't take flight. What good are you doing keeping to it like you are. How could you be so naive? What did you see in it?”

“What did you see in me?”

Her focus from the horizon tore away and for once since he woke she looked him in the eye.

“What?”

He could hear the weakness in her voice.

“You saw what I did, Adridge,” he solemnly uttered. “You know who I was. I thought of myself as unredeemable and most would have agreed with me. I felt my place was at safeguard. The place where they tear mountains to the ground and rip granet from earth. The place I should have spent the rest of my days”

“No,” she said shaking her head, her tools going on intermission with her concentration being torn away,given to Lindestic. “I know what I saw in you. You were lost scared and misguided. Thoseshackles you would have worn were the ones rightfully earned by your father who left you long ago” she said causing him look upward at her. “You a good, very good stallion. You’ve saved many lives and you’ve stood by my side. You’ve braved carridian and vanquished bandits alike. You're nothing like you were, you’re a changed soul. Don’t ever call into question your morality because in my eyes it is the purest of flame.”

“I won’t but I often have,” he said holding back tears. “Never again, this day I swear.”

He was taken by surprise by a rough, sudden embrace with jagged metal but the familiarity of friendship.

“Thank you Lindestic,” she whispered fighting an emotional war herself. “Thank you for forgiving yourself.”

She pulled away letting her recover from his renewed back pain, but in his mind it was well worth its venom. Adridge got back to work on her armor and with a few more cuts and some slight mending it fell away completley leaving her burt right side to itself.

Lindestic tucked the bird back under his burnt feathers, no doubt they lost their use for flight. It would take weeks for it them to grow back, if not months. He raised a hoof for assistance and Adridge took it in hers lifting him to all fours. “Where now, Adridge?”

Standing to the horizon she let out a withered breath. “We go back Lindestic. I know it's hard, but I lost something. My cape,” she said. Lindestic new that that peace of dragon skin was very dear to her. She told him the story and he knew just how much it meant to her very being. “I can forget the blade in place of my cape.”

“I know you will,” he said standing at her side “But I saw the sight as we ran from that village. Adridge,” he said slowly and carefully. “Promise me you won’t look down.”

Embers of the Just Brutalizer
“General Horace!” Quariomy called out.

From the forward ranks of the surrounding ranks of Istudian warriors general Horace in the flesh marched onto the skirmish field.

With a mighty voice he shouted, “This Duel Today Will Begin On My Mark!” he drew his sword pointing to his princes, “Champion Quariomy?”

“Prepped and ready,” she answered.

And with spite he asked, “Calcakin?”

He snickered. ‘Won't even refer to me as champion will you?’ he thought. Then, still standing on two legs, he said, “My embers still burn. Torrents of rain couldn’t even stifle its flame.”

Looking up to the wall Igneous saw as far as the curve of the structure could allow could the lines and lines of guardsmen, and in more numerous numbers civilians. They threw their hooves over the edge in effort to get a better view with each on leaning over the other. Each one awaiting the outcome.

“Warriors!” he shouted. “Skirmish Formation!”

Instinctively they raised their shields side by side creating a wall that surrounded the two champions. His catalyst glowed a condescend white and from it shot out a single white signal. He retreated to join his warriors at the side and as he fell into the ranks he rose his shield and shot of the second signal.

Calcakin ducked at the flash of white just in time to dodge a mid body swipe from Quariomy as she came to a sliding halt behind him. “Fast. Ha, very fast my Princess,” he said becoming exhilarated at the performance of her speed alone.

Coming out from her last attack, she levered the blade against her shoulder, spun around and whipped it again. Calcakin’s blade flicked up with the slightest gesture of his hoof as he used it to yield Quariomy’s sword skyward. He lashed out with his off handed gauntlet only to meet the broadside of her second long sword.

With his drawn blade keeping her skyward sword locked in place he said, “You're a talented pretty-princess, no?”

He leapt back, landed then immediately lunged forward.

Quariomy set her blades but Calcakin swept them aside, striking her with his left hind hoof. She reeled back from the blow as he twisted his body landing on the same hoof only to rotate once again kicking her off for good with a back, right hind kick.

The walls roared at this monstrous fighting style and Calcakin basked in the sudden glory. His left foreleg blade came unhooked and with it he put on a display of spinning death with both blades flicking around his hoves, spinning on their axles to his will. Looking back at Quariomy, she began to pick herself up holding her jaw with her hoof as she took her blades in her magical grip raising them once again to defence.

“You like that, no?” he was still standing on two taking slow strides towards her. “A fighting style modeled after the aggressive nature of greater beast who stood on two just like I do now. To you this is impossible as I have strained day and night just to achieve such an ability. Were you unicorns wield magic to seemingly no end I feed on strength and the will of myself. This Is The Will Of Determination! This Is The True Strength Of Earth Ponies!”

Having fully recovered during his short monologue, and seeing as he was indeed formidable fighter, she said, “Then vouch for your kind. Show me true strength!”

He grinned as he hunched over going to all fours as he charged Quariomy. His armor shimmered in the sunlight and the snow melted away at its touch and in one bound he closed the rest of the distance. His blades flicked outwards as he spun with his fore hooves outstretched.

She waved her head as she intercepted each strike with fast precise movements of her swords. They fought fiercely through the stalemate with their blades flying, bodies dancing through the snow. It felt like thunder with every blow.

Calcakin lash out with his blade locked forward and Quariomy angled her sword down intercepting and throwing it up performing a successful parry. She let out a war cry as she reeled back her sword that blew up in flames and with all her might thrusted forward, the sharpened edge aimed for armor.

It rattled and clanked as Calcakin was blown back a few steps with the armor, refusing to be pierced. Quariomy withdrew the blade and struck again and again, landing blow after fiery blow to his armor. Each attack sending him back a few steps. None of which yielding a mortal blow.

With her sixth strike Calcakin recovered and coped with the rhythm. Catching the next strike with both blades crossed he send the tip of her longsword to the dirt, delivering a fetlock hoof to her face.

She reeled back from the powerful sensation falling to her back a considerable distance away. Calcakin roared as he battered his armor with both hooves, hitting it thrice before charging her again. He galloped towards Quariomy, and as she desperately tried to pick herself up he swiftly dashed behind her with hooves gliding above the snow. Hooking both his four legs around her abdomen and with one great exertion, he hoisted her up into the air, causing her magical grip to fail, consequently dropping her blades as a result.

With the walls roaring with cheering and the princes struggling to break free from his hugging grip he arched himself backward, and with a thunderous collision, slammed her head into the snow with a powerful suplex. The valley fell silent. This was nothing they ever seen before and that brutal act of offence was unlike any other. Calcakin got back on all fours Quariomy only barely squirming.

“Where Is It?” He shouted running up and kicking her in the face with his armored gauntlets as she tried to recover, sending her back to the floor. “Show Me Your Magic!” Another running kick.

He came to a halt, leaned down to her and said, “you dafted unicorns. Your abstruse and weak without magic. You speak so mightily, you walk so proudly flaunting light, dark and alchemy everywhere you strut.”

He lowered his hoof taking her by the armor and said “Is this the power of Istudious?” With one swift exertion he lifted her body into the air. “Show me more!” He shouted holding her high above him for warriors, guards and civilians alike to see.

“Don’t hold back, I want to know my Princess. You’re not dead just yet!” Taking her with one hoof he sent her back to the floor with a heavy earthly collision. Quariomy not even whimpering with impact.

“Pathetic,” he grumbled as he shook his head.

He began to trot away to await the moment they officially declare him the winning champion and saunter off out of his nation for good. Suddenly the warriors collectively let out a gasp. Her catalyst begun to glow white and as Calcakin turned around he chuckled and said, “Yes, yes. You don’t fool me for a second.”

He backed up as Quariomy slowly raised herself to her hooves. Her face was bleeding from the multiple gashes from the few times he kicked her and the one time he threw her to the ground. Her mane became stained with the substance and her fur, whiter than the snow they fought on, also became stained.

A white sprite popped from her catalyst manifesting itself just in front of her. She looked to it then to Calcakin, and with a look of grim, bloody determination; she crushed it in her magical grip.

A dark haze formed on her back. “I’ve come too far, suffered too long, ate too little. I ached many days, cried fewer nights.”

The mist began to solidify, and in its trace it took the shape of a curved sword. “I’ve led this army with the best of determination, but on the faintest of hopes. Were the best of the blood and the strongest of bone.” She gathered only one long sword that laid on the ground and holding it forward she said, “I will not fail today.”

“Your salvation is beyond that wall. A fortitude defended by no other but me. A legion to one.” He stanced back up ready to fight, poised for battle. “As you said I am merely a dirt pony. If that so then what do you consider yourself.”

She lowered her head, the darkened curved sword resting across her back sustained by dark magic, and the long sword held at her side in her magical grip. What did she consider herself? “Anxious. Strong in heart. The Blood of Istudious. The banner they wave, the armor they bear, the blades they wield and the shields they raise.”

She dug her hooves into the snow poising herself for combat. Curved sword ready to vault and longsword ready to lunge. Her eyes seemed to warp and glow...“I am the Heart of Istudious and our salvation is today!”

Village of Stones
“Don’t look down,” he pleaded. A hard thing to do as they carefully made their way down a cracked desolate street. Households and buildings on all sides lay in ruins, spilling their woodwork and stonework within themselves and over the streets too. Adridge stared looking only forward.

Oh how the sights beckoned from just aside their tunnel vision, right, left and below in its crimson red display. The constant, active discipline they shuttled themselves with whenever there gaze even so much as flicked in any given direction. The bird of carnivory circled about constantly landing and tossing gazes to them as they the two wandered closely by. There wasn’t a sound but the occasional crow and flurry of wingbeats. A stray gone passed keeping only to itself, and a cat darting into the darkness.

Where had she branded her attire last before the war rigs let loose? The plaza along with the majority of the fighters caught in that split moment of spitfire from iron muzzles. Minutes passed, both silently walking, slowly making their way around. She turned the corner and froze in her step.

“Lindestic,” she gasped.

“I see it too,” he whispered putting himself in between her and the gruesome sight of the plaza.

Looking her in the eyes he whispered again, “Keep moving. You know where the cape is?”

“It should be…” she trailed of making sure to keep her gaze leftwards towards the rubble.

Through faint familiarity she found the square area of a rubbled building that she was tossed through. It wasn’t near the entrance of the area so it must have been buried beneath the rubble.

Lindestic heard the sounds of scurrying and looked to see wolves making their way in. There were ten in total each on happily strutting about the carnage. One laid his eyes on him giving a slight ‘woof’ to his presents. No doubt they would be keeping an eye on the two falconers but for the time there was no need for game. The feast was already here.

He sickly swallowed as the many of them lowered their heads and began to tear and desecrate.

Adridge drowned out the sound focusing only on her alchemy. Sure, earth was second to her water talents but it should have been enough to move the rubble as it was, and it was. Slowly through strenuous concentration the rocks and debris began to shift and skitter across the roadway out of her dig site.

A minute more and she gasped with tiredness and when she looked down at her work she found the hilt of her curved sword sticking out through the rubble still in its scabbard. Taking it in her magical grip she lifted and it came free and she turned her sights on the wolves.

“Don’t, Adridge.”

“Lindestic?”

“They’ll only return,” he said looking away and to the ground. “Think for a moment will you,” he asked in the kindest way possible.

And she did. If she fought the wolves then the crows would make the claim instead. If she banished them too then the flies would arrive. They couldn’t bury them all, not the hundred and seventy two of the brave stallions and mares. As a result, the thieves would be left to take the armor, weapons and trinkets left behind.

With a heavy heart she took a step back. She turned and with Lindestic following closely behind, they silently left the village, a village turned to stone. Adridge laid the scabbard across her back, strapped the buckles around her chest and waist, and held one image in her mind. The image of the cowled commander who shouted only one word before the war rigs let loose.

“Fire.”

Blood of the Somber Ailer
A curved sword. A tool used to slay both beast and pony alike. To parry one is a challenge as often times the blade slides through, glancing harmlessly off. No doubt she would reinforce each attack of her longsword with the curved sword soon after. But was she holding back? It had been long but if Calcakin recalled the aer to Istudious should have been gifted in alchemy invested in earth. Perhaps she was just holding back.

‘No matter,’ he told himself. No doubt she would flaunt her true colors but her shimmering eyes signaled for caution. A feature he noticed only after she picked herself up.

He took two paces to the left. He looked her up and down, that unmoving armored Princess. Took eight paces to the right. She remained as motionless as a fully grown tree. Stubborn was the word that came to mind, at least battle-stubborn.

“Fine then,” he said as he aimed his foremost right hoof straight for Quariomy.

He punched the side of it with his left hoof, and from the uppermost slot of his gauntlet shot out a small sharpened disk.

Only then did she move, intercepting it with her blade, arcing around Calcakin, blades at ready. He giggled in his bulky armor and at the last moment spun on his hooves intercepting and bringing her longsword to a stop with his right hind hoof. He kicked it away and she swung her curved sword.

Raising his forehoof he caught the broadside of it yielding it upwards over his head as Quariomy leapt back. Following through with her attack she came again for a second streamlined engagement. He rolled to the floor as she whipped her blades and kicked her front legs out from under her. Jumping back up to his hooves he looked to her only she was no longer there.

He found himself flying to the other side of the shielded arena, crashing against the hard side of a warrior's upheld shield. His head throbbed and looking up he quickly rolled out of the way of an incoming spear shaft.

The warriors cheered as Quariomy summon another shaft just above her head throwing one after the other keeping Calcakin darting from the left and to the right.

With a flick of her eye and a drop of instinct she let loose once more. This time hitting Calcakin in the chest just as he rose both hooves and shuttered. The familiar sound of the bladed disc rung in her ears and she pulled her longsword out swiping it away only to be struck in the neck regardless.

Both of them stood their ground. Each impaled with the tool of another.

What had happened? For one Calcakin had shot one disk from both hooves. That bulky piece of armor turned out to conceal some tricks, but to say it was bulky was a lie. Most of it was only held within the gauntlets and shoulder platings, but the metal itself was so strong. It must have been lined with Hycrome mesh, a precious rare feature in armor. Rare too as blades couldn’t cut through. This Quariomy knew.

She carefully looked down to her shoulder. Just as her senses have been screaming she was indeed wounded more so than from a brutal beating. A rounded disk with serrated edges stuck from her shoulder about a quarter of the way deep. It was a precise shot and one she hadn’t expected. Taking the edge of the blade in her magical grip she carefully pulled it out ceasing to whimper nor wallowin its pain.

Sure she was bleeding but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt already. Throwing the metallic object into the ground she poised herself once again. This time laying the war hammer over her back while keeping the curved sword held out crossway in front of her bodie.

Steadily breathing Calcakin raised a hoof to the fading spear shaft still sticking in his body. Cupping his hoof he pulled it out of his armor. The head was lightly coated in blood but it wasn’t his injury that concerned him it was that his armor now bore a strikingly obvious weak spot. He threw the spear to the ground ignoring the pain and stared Quariomy down, but one question still prodded at the back of his mind.

What had happened? As the spear faded beside him he recounted the last few moments of the second engagement. Quariomy should have been down when he kicked her legs yet she appeared just behind him with a summoned hammer raised. One that he hadn’t seen her summon before prior. How had she done it?

Well Igneous had seen it all. He watched as Quariomy made her first advancement signaling to Calcakin that she was going to be aggressive. She then leapt back with intent to counter attack, or so Calcakin thought. This however was merely a ruse as when she did, a false persona shot out just as Calcakin thought she would but the real Quariomy darted around sheathing her sword and summoning a war hammer since it was proven that Calcakin’s armor was tougher and lined with hycrome mesh.

And so when Calcakin took the forward advancement and counter attacked, he was unaware of Quariomy, who had positioned herself just where she knew he would be. Ready, with her hammer already raised ready to be swung around unleashing its power on his armor.

To many this was an impressive display of light magic. She indeed was an impressive illusionist, but that brought up a few questions from Igneous. During his fight with her did she ever play these tricks? Attacking with fake swords only to set up the next strike for the real one? It couldn’t have been. He was only taken down once she hit him with the same attack done to Calcakin. But maybe some of the slayer arrows were fake used only to bait him out. However he felt the collisions and the woodwork gave way to its blow so this couldn’t be true.

“It seems your a bit smarter than most,” he said from behind the visor of his helm. Raising his left hoof he hammered his next disk shot into his right and vise versa.

“It's just an illusion,” she toyed, refusing to move.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After all an illusion shouldn’t have to hurt, but then again… he felt the collision of the illusion’s hoof after he kicked it. If it truly was an illusion his hoof should have passed straight through. No unicorn he knew could summon a full intractable personas.

“Right then,” he said regaining his composure, his armor leaking with blood. “Round three?”

She gave a polite battlefield nod.

He raised a hoof and said, “Just, one moment please. I need to summon a weapon.”

“What?” she said tilting her head to the side. “How could you summon a weapon?” she asked doubtfully. “Your earthbound.”

“Well...” he began, no doubt smiling beneath that visor of his. “Allow me to show you.” Tilting his head upward he let lose a whistled that was amplified by the confines of his helmet. He then shouted a single command.“Whip!” Not long after was that very thing present just before the princess herself.

She couldn’t help but smile as Calcakin clipped the hold of his whip to the blade of his left hoof. ‘A magical earth pony,’ she thought. It indeed was summoned albeit by more conventional means as it was thrown from above by the royal guards on duty atop the wall itself.

With one hoof held away from himself, he let the coils of the whip drag along as he slowly stood back up on two. This time fully ready for combat. “This time,” he spoke up as Quariomy mentally prepared herself. He waved his left hoof that was accompanied with a quick lethal crack of his whip. “...It's my turn to engage.”

He charged just as Quariomy made her advancement just as he knew she would. He lashed out cracking the whip just over the forehead of the persona making it vanish. Quickly, he spun on his hooves digging them into the ground just as the true Quariomy attacked from his right.

Flicking his right hoof, the blade swiftly deflected the curved sword just over head. He leapt to his right, swinging his left hoof wrapping the coils around her neck. She pulled back against its grasp but Calcakin’s whip held fast.

Her hammer smashed down just as he avoided it. She tried lashing out at the whip with her curved sword in an effort to split the fine leather, yet Calcakin pulled himself in deflecting the blade with his right hoof. He was now startlingly close and with no other alternative she lowered her head letting her curved sword vanish as charged him head on.

She slammed into his armor. She felt the density, hardness and how heavy it truly was yet, she didn’t stop. She wrapped a hoof around one of his planted hindlegs, picking him up into the air and dropping him to the snow. She then drew a long sword striking out at Calcakin just beneath her.

He blocked the first attack bringing it to a hard stop against his blade. He jolted his body to the side just as the head of her hammer crashed into the snow. With one weapon locked and the hammer reeling back he let his right hoof slip knocking Quariomy across the chin with his elbow, while afterwards he extended his left hoof pulling Quariomy off to the side by the neck with his whip.

He rolled to his right quickly picking himself up, and when he set his eyes on her she had already gotten to her hooves as well. She started darting to the left and right seemingly in place. Calcakin watched as the shimmer in her eyes brightened as she split into three all at once standing in line facing him, each equipped identically in armor each with a dark summoned hammer on their backs.

They all lunged at him with hammers reeling back for a major crushing blow. Quickly deducing which ones had to be personas and which one had to be the real one, his left hoof and his whip phased right through the first two which swiftly faded to nothing. That left only the leftmost Quariomy. He raised his left hoof intent to fire the last of his disks at the true Quariomy and when he looked he saw the sudden surprise in her face as she sailed across the ground airborne in an attack she couldn’t fade out from.

It was the look and realization of defeat knowing that no matter what she did that she would lose. He grinned. It was the look they all wore the moment they released an earth pony brought them to into submission.

“Like I said.” His gauntlet let loose sending the sharpened disk straight for the Princes as he muttered, “You're all the same.”

“Am I?”

He froze. The voice came from behind. He looked to see the disk fade through and the third persona that vanished. He was defeated. He knew that much as he didn’t even bother to move, evade or act in anyway. Instead he lowered his head in brief anticipation. “My, how you’ve grown Quariomy.”

A deafening metal on metal explosion rang throughout the entire valley. So much so that village miles away heard the echo of defeat. Igneous anxiously looked up peering over the shields of Warriors just too see. As the snow settled he recalled what had happened.

Quariomy had darted around as Calcakin picked himself up leaving behind a persona which divided into two more personas tricking him into believing that one of them was her. She then had them all perform a simultaneous, easily predictable, telegraphed attack as he took the bait swiping out at them just as the true Quariomy herself was reeling back her hammer in a heavy downward crushing attack.

Outplayed by magic. The thing he loathed above all else.

The snow settled and Igneous saw Calcakin lying chest down on the ground with Quariomy standing over him with the head of her hammer bored down into the plating of his armor. She was breathing heavily, a result of the fight, and waving her bloodied mane out of her eyes with a flick of her head the hammer vanished.

No warrior cheered. No citizen up on the wall called out.

Quariomy stepped over Calcakin half buried in the snow and rolled him over with her hoof. His armor was cracked all around, it being significantly shattered on his back side. Wrapping a hoof around his helm she slowly began to pull and it fell away, heavy as it was. Calcakin weakly tried swiping her away with his hoof but she intercepted it and pinned his leg beneath hers.

“Let me see your face,” she panted.

Calcakin groaned as his helmet came loose. Now taking it in her magical grip she held it to her face looking into the empty visor then back down at Calcakin. His eyes were bloodshot. His mane seemed mangled. His snout was dripping with blood and some even sickled from his lips as he dry heaved on the ground in pain. His back was broken as well as other bones and no doubt he a part of his stomach was ruptured from the impact.

“Are you going to kill me?,” he sputtered in anguish.

With one final glance she threw the helmet to the ground withdrawing her longsword simply saying, “Seems its what you want.”

Calcakin watched as she slowly raised her sword pinning him to the ground with a hoof.

“Look me in the Eyes,” she commanded.

As he did her eyes shimmered once again and he could feel something deep and personal become drawn out. He couldn’t explain it but if felt as if she now knew him to the very center of his being. The warriors began to inch forward in anticipation and the citizens watched from above. Withdrawing her intense gaze. “A word to be remembered by?”

“Yes.” He coughed nodding his head coming back down from the trance. With a smile slowly cracking across his lips he faintly said, “Never, by... a u-unicorn.”

Suddenly Quariomy flicked her blade upwards splitting a wooden bolt along the blade itself. Quariomy smiled and shook her head. Looking down at Calcakin.

“You Noriphmians. So eager to die.”

It was aimed for Calcakin himself and not the Princess of Istudious. She lowered her weapon with relief as she look upwards to the wall only to see the retreating glimpse of a pegasus in earthenearing equipment.

“Tell me,” she began looking back down to the bleeding Calcakin. “Is it an honor you hold dear? Is it the fear of the alternative, or do you just prefer to end it sooner rather than the latter?”

He didn’t answer, only leaning his head back resting against the snow in defeat.

She swiftly sheathed the blade with a loud clack and dismounted the corps of Calcakin. Looking to warriors with shields raised she stood tall, face bruised and bloodied and announced, “Warriors of Istudious. Noriphmy is Ours!”

They cheered raising their shields and weapons pointing them skyward. She allowed this to continue for a few moments more before signaling them to silence themselves. She said again, “Warriors! Fall into rank!”

Instinctively the circle of shields broke as they retreated back, each warrior taking his or her place in the lineup that faced the wall. Shields were held outwards and weapons were readily drawn.

Quariomy left the injured Calcakin letting the warriors gather him up and move him away. She started her way towards the back lines just as Horace came to her side ready for orders. She gave him a nod and asked, “General is the transfer here?”

“He is, and is ready to be deployed.”

“Good,” she replied as warriors stood aside making way for her. “Position him before the wall and oversee the capital siege. Also insure that Calcakin doesn’t die.”

“Yes, my Princess,” he said. “And as said we are to spare the citizens and royal guard?”

She led him to the back of the lines were cannon and their crews were spaced thirty six meters apart. Each one with a few crates sitting aside with a healthy amount of shells to fire.

She nodded. “The citizens yes but the royal guard will be a sensitive matter.”

Coming up to the cannon crew the crew commander gave her a nod and the rest stood straight at their post. Standing just aside the barrel she laid a hoof on it and said, “Take as many prisoners as you can. Once the council is overthrown I will deal with them personally, but for now do hold restraint. After all it's not a sin to fight for what you believe in.” She patted the war rig proud of its build and engineering. “Especially when so forcefully ignorant.”

“I understand my Princess,” he said. “I’ll be off now.”

But just before he could get too far Quariomy called out saying, “And do give Ferathal mentorship.” Turning her attention to the cannon crew she said, “Captain. Ready the weapon. Single fire, scatter shot, one burst. On my command!”

The crew quickly got to work with the loaders unloading the previous clip of shells dropping it to the ground and taking a new equally as large clip from a crate sitting just nearby. Both were needed to lift, taking it in their magical grip and as they loaded it into the side, they ejecting the first shell, reloading the scattershot. The range finder began pushing the handle attached to the bed of the cannon causing it to rotate slightly until it was pointed directly at the wall itself. He then pulled back on one attached to the barrel while also disengaging the gear lock system until the barrel was in place aiming straight for the top of the wall, lined with civilians looking on along with a few royal guards ponies.

“Target set my Princess,” the crew captain exclaimed for Quariomy.

After the chaos of warriors falling into rank settled down the valley again fell silent and Quariomy waited for moments before from the very front of the wall came a white signal fired off high into the air signaling the warrior was in place.

“Princess?” the crew captain came urging for her command.

“Fire.”

With a grunt the gunner rammed his hoof into the end of the barrel kicking the piston forward igniting the powder, kicking the barrel back for another shot while letting loose on the wall of Noriphmy with a thunderous, deafening boom.

Ponies cried out as most were wounded only a few dead as they were pelted with hundreds of pellets. Instinctively, they ran for their lives fearing another shot as each one tumbled over the other just to get away. Now with the top of the wall nearly deserted Quariomy looked on in anticipation.

From the forward ranks of the warriors a single pony stepped forward this one dressed in the same armor but with a different array of skills all together. With the civilians safely away he set a hoof on the wall feeling it's stoney texture and the hardness thereof. Calming his mind he focused and with one slight twitch of his hoof the massive wall cracked under the slightest of pressure.

Pulling back, he swiftly rammed his hoof into the fortified only for it to turn to dust at his touch. He lept back once again and this time without even touching he arched his hoof forward and pushed, were as the six story section of wall he had shortly worked against fell inward, toppling down in a massive collision of structure to earth.

Seeing the new found opening to Noriphmy, a good distance away from the gate itself, Quariomy shot forward two white signals and as they passed over the heads of the warriors. Horace withdrew his sword shouting for them to charge. Only hours after into the dusk, was the capital finally theirs...