My orders from the Avatar left me ... uneasy.

There was nothing about them that violated the established rules of war. Attacking the enemy on another front in the midst of a duel was a well-accepted practice. One could hardly demand for all fighting to cease across an entire battlefield simply because two officers fought a single duel. The bulk of both our armies likely would not even learn that a duel had been fought until after ‘twas done. Indeed, by the laws of war, a duel only required that no soldiers from either side interfere with the duel itself, nor prevent the victor from returning to their own lines.

My orders to strike deep into the tunnels and outflank the western redoubt were thus entirely valid ones, and doubtless vital to maintaining our offensive momentum after our recent victory in claiming the southern gates. If we could take the redoubt, we might well shatter the entire enemy line, allowing us to move into Canterlot itself. Victory and an end to this damnable war lay within my grasp.

If the enemy was distracted and left their flanks exposed because of a duel in another sector of the battlefield, that was entirely their own error. I would be a fool not to take advantage of such a mistake. However, I could not shake the thought that Lance might not approve of my actions.

I tried to put that worry aside as I sought out Sierra. As befit my second in the hetairoi, she was hard at work arranging the final details of the upcoming attack. At the moment, she was in the midst of a rather heated discussion with the newest addition to the hetairoi, and one I was far from enthusiastic about. However, my new understanding with Hidden Facts required a few minor concessions, and having a skilled spellcaster attached to my unit was admittedly something that might prove useful. In truth, my objection was primarily born from whom he had chosen to take up the role.

“I understand your concerns, madam,” the warlock Moonwatch declared, his voice still oozing sycophancy. “However, the great and glorious Honored Avatar of Nightmare Moon, in her infinite wisdom, allocated the bulk of our magical resources to attacks on other fronts. Capturing the southern gates already consumed much of our stockpile of fire gems, and I am afraid I simply cannot produce more with a wave of my horn.” He paused, then amended. “Well, I can craft them, but certainly not in a timely fashion for your next assault.” He chuckled as though he had told some sort of amusing jest.

Sierra glowered at the warlock, and I could all but hear her teeth grinding. “Our task is to breach enemy lines. How would you suggest we achieve that goal if you cannot provide me with the necessary tools?”

The warlock shrugged and smiled. “I am sure that the all-knowing and all-seeing incarnation of mighty Luna herself would not have assigned the attack to your unit unless she knew you had all the resources needed to achieve your goals. Thus, the only reasonable conclusion is that you are mistaken in your belief that you require fire gems to achieve your objectives. Perhaps the Avatar, in her wisdom, has realized that the enemy is less powerful than you fear.” He paused, and a hint of challenge entered his voice. “Unless you are questioning the Avatar’s orders?”

“Of course not,” Sierra grunted, her eyes and mouth twitching as she visibly strained to remain civil. “Just trying to execute them to the best of my abilities. Which requires having weapons like fire gems.”

“Evidently not,” Moonwatch countered, “Otherwise, the Avatar would not have ordered an attack when no fire gems were available.”

The truth was far less pleasant than Moonwatch cared to believe. I was young and relatively new to command, but e’en I knew that sometimes soldiers had to make do with what they had, rather than what was needed. Our ongoing problems with guerillas had certainly forced us to make a few improvisations when needed supplies ran short. Waiting until we had more fire gems available would give the enemy time to recover and reorder their battle lines. We had to attack now to maintain offensive momentum, even if it meant trying to break through a pike line by brute force.

I remembered one of my father’s sayings, which seemed grimly appropriate for our current situation: sometimes one must trade blood for victory. Moonwatch was right that fire gems were not required to break a pike line, but in the narrow tunnels, any other method would come at a steep price. Though I suppose still a worthwhile one, if it could deliver victory in the greater battle for Canterlot.

I pointedly cleared my throat, drawing their attention. “Do whate’er you can, Moonwatch. I am sure that the Avatar, my mother, expects us to be capable of organizing an attack without asking her to see to every minor detail herself.”

Moonwatch smiled and nodded, his voice veritably oozing with obsequiousness. “Ah, you raise a valid point, Prince Dusk.” Were I not so shocked by being declared a prince, I might have objected to the title foisted upon me. “I will do what I can to find more fire gems. By your leave...” Without another word, the warlock offered me a short bow, then turned his back to me, trotting deeper into the encampment.

As the warlock departed, Sierra—with what appeared to be a considerable effort—composed herself and strode to my side. She smirked and nudged me in the shoulder. “Will you require anything else, my most exalted prince of Pegasopolis? Perhaps a silk pillow to sit upon while you conduct the attack? Servants to fan you and feed you grapes? Or mayhaps some strong stallions to carry you into battle so you will not need to sully your royal hooves with common dirt.” Evidently, she had chosen to dispel her foul mood by making a target of me.

I rolled my eyes and endeavoured to return the mockery in kind. “Neigh, though I would like the soft touch of a mare in bed once the battle is done. Wouldst thou know where I might find a comely mare? None are in evidence within my sight.”

Sierra’s answering smile was dry as a desert. “If I were not a married mare, I would find some way to make you deeply regret that remark. Though as it stands there is little reason to concern myself with the matter. I think that if thou sought the company of another mare, Gale would not hesitate to kill thee in thy sleep.”

I frowned at that. “Such an action would be quite jealous for a mare who continues to refuse my advances whenever I make them. Surely if she will not accept my affections, I am free to seek other mares.” After the kiss we had shared yesterday, I had dared to hope that she might have thawed towards me. Sadly, she had made it quite clear that she was not amenable to further gestures of affection at this time.

Sierra chuckled and shook her head. “Thou truly dost know nothing of mares if thou thinkest that. Just because she refuses thine advances does not mean others are allowed to have thee. Thou hast already begun the grand game of courtship with her. She has claimed thee.”

I frowned, not caring for that choice of words. “As fine a mare as Gale is, I am hardly owned by her. Or anypony, for that matter.”

Sierra grinned and gave me a mocking pat on the shoulder. “Thou wilt learn the rules of such things in due time, sweet prince. I am sure Gale is already plotting how best to educate thee into being a proper husband.” She smiled with entirely false innocence. “Perhaps after the battle I can give her some advice on the matter.”

I glowered balefully at her. “Thou art an evil, wicked mare, Sierra. What have I done to deserve such a cruel fate?”

Sierra cupped my cheek, her tone still teasing. “Oh thou poor, ignorant stallion.” She chuckled to herself, then reluctantly shook her head. “Alas, we cannot spend all our time with such light concerns. The sooner the battle is done, the sooner I might return thee to thy mistress. I believe we have everything needed to launch the attack, fire gems aside.”

I grimaced and nodded. “Hopefully we will not need them. If fortune favors us, the enemy lines will be in such disarray that we can find an unguarded approach. E’en if we cannot, 'tis possible the morale of Celestia’s forces might finally have been broken by our recent victories. Especially if—when the Avatar cuts Shadow down in their duel.”

“Both those things are possible, yes,” Sierra readily conceded, though she still wore a frown. “However, I would still prefer to have enough fire gems to break a pike wall.”

“So would I.” I put on the most confident smile I could manage. “As I would prefer twenty times as many soldiers, all battle-hardened veterans, and equipped with the best gear our smiths and enchanters can conjure. Alas, we must make do with the resources we have, not what we wish we had. We have won battles and broken pike lines in the past without fire gems; if need be we can manage the task again.”

She sighed and reluctantly nodded. “I suppose thou art correct. In that case, there is one other matter I would bring to thine attention. Though this is as much a personal affair as one related to the attack itself.”

She pointed to the side, drawing my eyes to Dawn. I was quite surprised to see her not only outside the medical tents, but also in full combat gear—albeit also festooned with a substantial stockpile of bandages, potions, and other medical equipment (1).

1: While both sides in the Rebellion generally tried to avoid killing medics, both for moral and practical reasons (as the Geneighva Accords would not be created for several centuries), medics in combat zones were still generally expected to operate as soldiers in all ways.

I frowned as I realized she would be accompanying us to the frontlines. I suppose ‘twas prudent, as we would be operating far forward and in no condition to transport our wounded back to the medical tents. Though I would have preferred that I bring a different medic so close to danger. “She will remain well to the rear of any battles we fight.”

“As thou sayest,” Sierra readily agreed. “I merely thought it prudent to ask if ‘twould be a problem that she will be on our battlefield. ‘Twould be quite understandable if thy sister’s presence unsettled thee, given the circumstances.”

I could hardly deny that it did. I had already lost two siblings to this war, and would have much preferred that Dawn remain as far away from the fighting as could be managed. However... “I cannot say that I care for having her with us, but what am I to do ?” I shrugged helplessly. “If I order her to another unit without good cause, she will be humiliated. All the army would whisper that I doubt her abilities and do not think her worthy of a place within the hetairoi.” Damnable Swift had already claimed she was incompetent, if not disloyal on account of her Kicker sire. I would not do anything to lend credence to such rumors.

Sierra held my gaze for some time, then slowly nodded. “With that matter resolved, it seems all is in readiness.”

I glanced about, and noted one absence. “Moonwatch has not returned from his errand.”

She smirked. “Allow me to amend: everything that matters is in readiness.”

I returned her grin with one of my own. “Ah, I see. I suppose we should launch our attack as quickly as possible, lest the enemy recover and seal the holes in their defenses. A pity we could not afford to wait for our magus liaison, but...”

“Yes, quite the pity,” she agreed. “Now let us hurry and march before he returns.”

As was so often the case, the march to the frontlines combined tedium and terror in equal measure. Marching is an inherently boring activity, especially when we had to avoid speaking to maintain at least a modicum of stealth. Voices can carry surprisingly far within tunnels. However, we could never allow ourselves to grow complacent, lest the enemy discover us with our guard lowered. A single mistake on my part could lead mine attack force into an ambush.

Thankfully, it appeared that fortune favored me this day. Or more likely, the enemy was still in disarray from our initial breakthrough at the southern gates. It would take them some time to post new sentries to cover every single point of vulnerability. All I needed to do was seize a good defensive position along an open route, and the Avatar’s army could drive a spear deep into the heart of Celestia’s forces.

An end to the war. ‘Twas curious to consider that today might mark the final chapter in months of death and bloodshed. I could not help but wonder what Lance would think of this, were she still alive. My sister, who dreamed in her last days of negotiating terms with Celestia’s loyalists. Would she have still held to that belief now, when victory lay within our grasp?

I suspect she would have. Lance did not desire a negotiated peace for pragmatic reasons. That was not her way—in truth, I had always feared that she would meet her end leading a noble last stand against impossible odds. Lance would have stood to the last for a cause she truly believed to be righteous. Whate’er path she pursued, she did so with unwavering dedication if she truly believed ‘twas proper. She would have sought reasonable terms even if we held Celestia’s palace, and the queen herself was a prisoner at the tip of Mother’s spear.

What would she think of the peace that would follow the Avatar’s victory? ‘Twould certainly be a far cry from a fair, equitable settlement. Celestia would retain neither her throne nor her life. For all that Sierra teased me at the time, Moonwatch might well have been correct in naming me a prince. The Avatar would surely occupy the throne in Canterlot as soon as Celestia’s corpse had been removed from the seat, and as her son I would in fact be a prince. My mother as the Queen of Unicornia was strange to contemplate, yet ‘twould be my new reality all too soon.

What would become of me in peacetime, then? I would presumably retain my post as Captain of the Hetairoi, and perhaps be groomed to take a seat in the Ephorate in due time. Would the Avatar continue to rule from Cloudsdale, or might she be drawn to Canterlot’s prestige and central location much as Celestia was? Part of me suspected that the Avatar desired to take her sister’s throne as a point of pride and occupy the seat she felt was rightfully hers. If I was to remain leader of the hetairoi, then my place would be at her side. In Canterlot.

Then there was the matter of Gale. ‘Twas plain enough why Mother did not oppose my growing fondness for her. Mother had already once tried to persuade Gale to turn her loyalty to our cause before her capture. If Shadow perished in the upcoming duel, Gale would have the strongest claim to leadership within the clan. For all our talk of choosing our leaders based upon merit, the child of the previous leader almost always took up the role. If Celestia’s forces survived the day, they would surely try to name another to leadership of the Kickers, but such a claim would likely be received little better than our efforts to name a Kicker leader loyal to our cause.

If Celestia’s cause were truly doomed, I suspected Gale would play the part Mother intended for her. Far better to be materfamilias of a clan and wedded to a prince than to live out her days as a prisoner or fugitive. From what I had learned of the mare in speaking with her, she had no great loyalty or affection for Celestia—her loyalty lay with her mother, not the Sun Queen. Given the choice ‘tween making a martyr of herself for Celestia and reaching an accommodation with the Avatar, she would chose the latter. If nothing else, ‘twould give her a far stronger base from which to nurture any plans to avenge her mother.

I could not help but wonder if ‘twas a commentary on my character that I had become smitten with such a mare.

Though I suppose if Mother had chosen loyalty to Celestia, I would have followed her course as well. ‘Tis only natural. So long as the parent does not display grossly erroneous judgement, their children will follow.

However, that thought led to many uncomfortable places. Did I truly support the ideals behind our war, or was I merely obeying orders without thought for the morality of our cause? Was that, perhaps, why Lance had become an advocate for peace? Had she initially followed Mother’s lead only to find herself doubting the righteousness of our cause as the war progressed?

Gale’s loyalty might well have shifted if her mother perished. Would the same have happened to me if mine own mother died of her wounds rather than becoming the Avatar? When I thought Mother’s death likely, I had planned to withdraw the Chargers from the war effort. In truth I had said that partially just to spite Swift Blade, but I suspect I would have followed through on the threat all the same. The war had already taken two of my siblings from me, not to mention my mother’s fate. Perhaps I dreamed of victory this day not because I desired a grand triumph, but simply to see an end to it all.

I could hardly deny that I had mine own doubts e’er since Mother became the Avatar. Neigh, before that in truth, since she broke a truce to avenge Lance. I had followed orders like a good soldier, but in my heart I nurtured secret doubts. Doubts that had only grown as the new changes came over her, and our cause transformed from one of liberation to usurpation. If the Avatar were not my mother, would I still support the cause? Ancestors preserve me, was it possible I was fighting an unjust war out of blind loyalty to my family?

“Dusk.” I started at Sierra’s hissed whisper, ceasing my contemplations and returning my thoughts to the matter before me. Whate’er my private doubts, I was a commanding officer in the field of battle. I owed it to the soldiers under my command to do everything within my power to lead them to victory and preserve their lives.

Silent Stalker, our forward scout, stood before me. “Sir, we have a problem. There’s a group of Sol Knights up ahead.”

I hissed out several ungentlemanly words. “Can we bypass them?”

Silent shook his head. “Not without going to considerable trouble. We would have to double back for at least five minutes to find an alternate tunnel, then however long it would take to scout out that route...”

I grunted and nodded. There was no guarantee the other paths would suit us any better, especially when my scouts had already been leading us down the tunnels they thought most likely to be clear. Time was critical to our mission, and turning back would cost us a good deal of it with no guarantee that our situation would actually improve. “How many knights?”

“Perhaps a third of our numbers,” the scout answered. “But the tunnels are narrow and their pikes are long.”

I grimaced, though the news was hardly surprising. The narrow tunnels would keep me from bringing my superior numbers to bear or outflanking them. The only option would be to throw my forces onto their pikes and hope to drag them down through sheer attrition. E’en if I won, ‘twould be a victory worthy of Equirrus. (2)

2: One of the last great raider chieftains in the pre-unification days, Equirrus sought to subdue numerous earth pony communities and force them to pay tribute to his clan. While he was nominally victorious in every battle he fought against the earth ponies, the assaults on fortified communities proved so costly that his victories ruined him, and a few years later he was destroyed by a rival clan.

Not that I was inclined to give into despair too swiftly. “Wert thou detected?”

Silent all but scowled at me, plainly offended I felt such a question worth asking. “I was not.”

I followed that question with another. “How ready for battle did they seem?”

The scout paused, and his angry frown shifted to something more thoughtful. “They were hardly lackadaisical, but they were also not in a tight battle formation. I expect they could form up quickly enough once they knew they were under attack.”

“Yes,” I felt a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Once they knew. But if we can take them by surprise and strike before they are in full combat formation...” I left the thought unfinished, trusting the scout to follow my idea to the logical conclusion. “What of the terrain? Is the tunnel reasonably smooth and straight?”

Silent grunted and nodded. “They probably wanted clear shots for their crossbows.”

“Or ‘twas an old mining tunnel that they dug straight to begin with.” I moved on to the next matter. “What of the light levels? How far can they see?”

Silent shook his head. “Hard to say for sure, but I only saw torches around their position. I expect they have not yet had enough time to set lights all the way down the corridor.” He paused, cocking his head to the side. “Sir, are you considering extinguishing our own lights and attacking from darkness?”

“Would such a course be viable?”

Silent thought long before answering. “As long as we reach the tunnel in good order, we should be able to march in a straight line e’en if we cannot see the stone beneath us. Howe’er, moving in darkness is ne’er an easy task, and keeping a large group of ponies moving in relatively good order would be an e’en harder undertaking. Especially when we must also remain silent lest we give away our approach.”

“Hard indeed, but not impossible,” I concluded. “If there is a unit in all Pegasopolis that can manage the task, ‘tis the hetairoi. And regardless, we have little choice but to make the attempt.” ‘Twas no doubt in my mind that if I withdrew without launching an attack Swift would accuse me of cowardice—presumably unaware of the bitter irony of him attempting to shame anyone as a coward.

I dismissed the scout and let the troops know of my plan. Though none spoke against it, I could see the doubt in their eyes. In truth, I could not blame them for their concerns. The attack was a risky endeavour with numerous potential points of failure. Our charge could become a chaotic mess in the darkness, with my soldiers tangled up and pinned down while the enemy cut us down at their leisure. Or we could lose the advantage of surprise, and find ourselves charging into a wall of spears. However, as my mother had been fond of saying, a commander who takes no risks will ne’er accomplish anything of note.

Howe’er, the hetairoi deserved some reassurance that the rewards justified the risks. I spoke as loudly as I dared, attempting to pitch my voice up the tunnel and away from the enemy. “I will not lie to you: there are dangers here. Some of you will give your lives for Pegasopolis and Equestria today. But if we break their line, our main force can use the breach to launch a strike that will tear into the very heart of Celestia’s army. This will not be an easy battle, but if we win, it may be the last battle we must fight in this war.”

My words were met with a wall of silence and grim nods, though I would like to believe that the hetairoi appreciated them. Certainly raucous cheering would have been a terrible idea when we wanted to take the enemy by surprise.

Without another word, I began the advance. Mother had always told me that ‘twas important to lead from the front, serving as an inspiring example for my soldiers. Perhaps another time when I should have questioned her wisdom. I supposed I could at least take comfort in the fact that should my attack fail, I would likely be amongst the first to die.

We moved forward in good order and relative silence. While underground tunnels are far from an ideal battlefield for the soldiers of Pegasopolis, we had acquired considerable experience in the last month. Muffling our armor and our hooves had become almost second nature after we had learned how far echoes could travel. Howe’er, the silence only made me all the more aware of every sound my soldiers made. There was a moment when I was sorely tempted to chastise Sierra for breathing too loudly. Though the sound was little more than a whisper, it sounded like a cacophony to my nervous ears.

I saw the enemy camp ahead, and as the scout had informed me, they were relaxed and unaware of our approach. Not lounging about or asleep, but not battle formation, and I could hear the low murmur of several hushed conversations. In short, they had the appearance of any group of soldiers long into guard duty. Howe’er, they wore the marks of Sol Invictus, and we had already learned—much to the disbelief and chagrin of some of our senior leaders—that the unicorn knights were nearly the equal of our own warriors. I did not doubt that they would quickly ready themselves to face us if we were detected.

Thus far, they had not seen us. For all their skill and discipline, moving into a tight formation takes time. If we could just move a bit closer, we could be upon them too quickly for them to create the pike walls that had stymied our advances in the past.

Just then, when I dared to hope I might succeed, my plan came to ruin because of the one detail I had overlooked.

A bright light suddenly emerged at the very rear of our formation, and when I glanced back by pure instinct I saw the warlock Moonwatch, his horn shining like a torch. “Prince Dusk!” the fool called out, waving a large ruby in his hoof. “I found a fire gem for you!”

I froze in utter dismay, trying to comprehend how matters could have turned against me so suddenly by the actions of a single idiotic unicorn. I had always expected that if I died in this war it would be in battle against a great magus or acclaimed knight. Not cut down because one of my own subordinates was too stupid to recognize a stealthy advance in progress.

I had at least one consolation in unfolding disaster: Moonwatch’s brightly shining light and his enthusiastic shouting ensured that every single archer among them targeted him, especially since he had helpfully informed them that killing him would remove our best hope of breaking their lines. The warlock fell to the tunnel floor, transfixed by more than a dozen crossbow bolts. To make matters worse, he fell upon the fire gem he had only just retrieved, shattering it and immolating his body.

There was only one course left open to me. “Charge!” We had to close with them before they could fully muster and move into formation. I could only pray we would make it in time.

Compared to the silence of before, the world exploded into sound. The hetairoi shouted out their clans’ battlecries as we cast stealth aside, and our armored hooves pounded against the stone as we hurled ourselves towards our foes. The enemy answered our shouts defiantly, even as their officers scrambled to put them all into position to receive our charge.

The Knights of Sol Invictus were quite likely the finest soldiers in Equestria who did not have the fortune of being born with wings. Their discipline was impeccable, and they swiftly fell into formation, readying a wall of deadly pikes.

However, I was a battle-leader of Clan Charger, leading the charge as befit my clan’s words. I found a gap in their line where one of their pikeponies had not yet taken his post and plunged into their ranks. One pike scraped off my shoulder and another brushed against my belly, but I made it through the gap in their lines. I buried my lance into the chest of one of the knights, widening the gap for the rest of the hetairoi to follow behind me.

As I plunged into the tightly packed ranks of the enemy pike wall, the very character of the battle around me changed. No longer was it a clash between two ordered formations or soldiers—the density of the enemy formation and the tightness of the tunnel walls made any maneuvering all but impossible. I could not e’en bring my lance to bear again, as the enemy were all far too close for me to employ a pole-arm. With no other weapons at my disposal, I lashed out with my armored hooves, driving the enemy back with blows more suited to a brawl than a battle.

As more of the hetairoi joined the fray, the battle only grew more chaotic. We had carried no lights with us, and many of the torches the enemy possessed were snuffed out as the mass of soldiers fought back and forth within the narrow confines of the tunnel. As the battlefield grew darker and darker, I took to shouting my clan’s words so that others might know both my position and my allegiance. Half-blind and in the midst of a roiling mass of violent ponies, it would be all too easy to mistake a friend for a foe.

In my darker moments, I often wonder if I struck down any of mine own soldiers that day.

To call it a battle conveys far too much glory to it. ‘Twas nothing more than two mobs of ponies, trapped in the dark and struggling to survive. I lashed out at any who struck me, or any I saw who either possessed a horn or lacked wings, and took blows without e’er seeing the face of the one who struck me. I had no mind for the broader battlefield or how mine own soldiers were performing; there was simply no time to think of anything beyond the enemies standing before me, and how I might survive the next few moments.

In truth, I doubt I could have led my soldiers e’en if mine own mind had been clear. Likely they were engulfed by the same battle-madness as I had been. Not to mention that with all the battlecries echoing through the tunnel, plus the constant clash of steel on steel, it would have taken a miracle for any of them to hear my commands.

I do not know how long the madness lasted. It might have been hours or only a few moments. At some point I pinned down a unicorn, slammed a hoof against his helmet until he ceased moving, and when I looked for next foe there were none to be found.

Mine awareness of the battlefield beyond what lay within striking distance of me slowly returned, and I could hear the din of battle slowly fading. A quick survey of the tunnel showed that the soldiers still standing were pegasi, and I let out a cry that was born as much from relief as triumph. “Victory! We have victory!”

As the last sounds of battle faded into silence, something new took their place. The moans and cries of the wounded. Dawn stepped o’er to one of the Knights’ few remaining fires and kindled several torches, allowing me to finally see more than a few strides beyond mine own eyes.

I think I preferred the ignorant bliss of blindness.

The tunnel had become a charnel house, bodies of both our own and the enemy stacked three deep. As the cries of the wounded reached a new pitch, I realized that many of the fallen were not dead at all. Some of our wounded had been trapped amongst the dead, or buried beneath layers of other injured. I shudder to think how many must have fallen from their wounds, only to be trampled to death as the battle raged on around them.

Dawn stared out o’er the carnage, then slowly turned to face me, her eyes hollow and her shoulders slack with despair. “Aye. This is our victory.”

After a moment where I nearly fell into melancholy, I shook my head and reminded myself of my duty. Mourning would not bring back the dead, nor heal the wounded. As leader of the hetairoi, my mind should remain fixed upon my duty. “Silent, move forward and ensure that the way is clear.” Mine eyes shifted to the first uninjured pony I could find. “Take a message back to the Avatar. Inform her that we have seized a route into the heart of Celestia’s forces and await her advance.” Finally, I raised my voice, seeking out my second. “Sierra, I want a full report on our losses and how many combat-ready soldiers we have as soon as possible.”

While my first two orders met with swift acknowledgement, utter silence greeted the last. As the seconds stretched out, sickening dread settled into the pit of my stomach. “Sierra?”

Dawn’s voice answered me. “She is o’er here, Dusk.” My terror redoubled, for there could only be one reason my sister the chirurgeon was speaking for her. A moment later, she confirmed my worst fears. “Make haste.”

I rushed to my sister’s side, and found her crouching next to the mare who had been my strong right hoof from the beginning of the war. Now, Sierra lay helpless on the cavern floor as my sister wrapped a bandage ‘round her chest. A bandage that was already turning bright red with fresh blood.

I buried my fears and forced a smile onto my face. “Thou wilt be well, Sierra. There is no finer chirurgeon in Pegasopolis than my sister. I am sure thy wounds shall be mended, and thou shalt stand at my side again ere the day is out.”

My wingmare slowly shook her head, then coughed weakly. I saw pink, frothy blood on her lips ere she wiped them. “Always the fool, Dusk. E’en now. I fear this will be my last battle.”

“Neigh,” I stubbornly refuted her. “Thou art far too strong a mare to...” I could not e’en bring myself to finish the sentence, instead turning to my sister for support. “Dawn, tell her that she will make a full recovery.”

Dawn stared at me for a long moment, then gently squeezed my shoulder. “I have done what I can to make her comfortable, but now I must see to my other patients. Stay with her if thou canst, brother.”

“Stay with her?” I repeated incredulously, snatching one of her wings ere she could depart. “Why should I remain with her while thou dost go? I am no chirurgeon, or otherwise trained in the medical arts. What can I do for her?”

Dawn met my gaze levelly, not resisting my hold upon her. “Thou canst comfort her in her final hours. I have done all I can for her, but there are others I may yet save. Please release me so that I might do so.”

“Her final—” I snarled and furiously shook my head. “No! She is not going to die! I will not allow it. Thou art a chirurgeon! ‘Tis thy duty to save her life! Now see to it.”

Dawn said nothing, instead reaching up and lightly tapping my elbow. Suddenly my entire foreleg went numb, releasing my hold upon her. “I am sorry, Dusk, but there is nothing more I can do for her. I share thy pain, but I cannot allow it to keep from my duty. I only hope I can save others from death’s embrace.”

Powerless to stop her departure by force, I instead resorted to words. “Dawn, please...” I desperately cast about for an idea to save Sierra’s life. “Is it ... ‘tis a matter of lost blood? I can give her as much as she requires, if that is the case.”

My sister resolutely shook her head. “In all likelihood, that would not only kill her faster, but put thee in danger as well. The body rarely reacts well to the presence of another’s blood. And e’en if the both of thee survived the procedure itself, thy blood would spill from her wounds as quickly as her own blood does.”

“But...” I wracked my mind for any other way to preserve my friend’s life, but I could find nothing. I suspect that if Hidden Facts had approached me in that moment, I might been tempted to allow him to do to Sierra as he had done to my mother. “Dawn, please! She has a daughter!”

Dawn’s shoulders slumped, and her head hung low. Her voice came out as a tiny, almost broken whisper. “I know.” Without another word, she moved on to her next patient.

At a loss for anything else to do, I took one of Sierra’s hooves and waited. Mayhaps once the main force arrived they would be able to restore her. Dawn, for all her skill, was but a single pony with limited supplies. I clung desperately to that hope, for the only alternative was unthinkable. I could not accept that Sierra was going to die.

I gently squeezed her hoof. “Thou must live, old friend. The war may well end this very day. We have not come so far together to be parted at this late date. Think upon it: tomorrow thou canst finally see thy husband again and reunite thy sundered family. This madness of civil war will be done, and the natural order restored. Thou canst not have survived so much else only to fall when we have nearly restored all that was lost. Thou must live, for the sake of thy child and thy beloved husband. What point is there to this victory if I cannot restore thy family to thee, my friend?”

I slumped down against the tunnel wall, clinging to her as if she were my lifeline. “‘Tis far too late for mine own family. E’en if we win the day with no more losses, there are holes within our hearts that can never heal—Lance, Thunder, and what their deaths have done to my mother. The thing she became to avenge them! I wish I could believe that the Avatar took her flesh against her will, but I cannot deny the truth so plainly before me. There is too much of my mother within the Avatar. Given the choice between dying with her honor or casting it aside to claim her vengeance, she has chosen the latter.”

I rubbed at mine eyes with my free hoof. “Mother ... I hope history does not forget the mare she was before this. A good and honorable mare, one of the best Equestria has e’er seen. A mare who turned her strength to the defense of the helpless, and taught her children that ‘twas our duty to do the same. I think that is why she joined the war against Celestia—because she refused to stand and fight in defense of her subjects when the gryphon reivers attacked so many months ago.” I sighed and shook my head. “Mayhaps her refusal ‘twas part of some larger plan to make them safe, but Mother ... her passion often drove her to tend to immediate problems. She would ne’er tolerate a minor wrong just because it might allow a greater one to be undone, or because ‘twas tactically unwise. All evils must be opposed, and if fighting lesser ills allows a greater threat to arise, then she would charge forward to cut that one down too. ‘Twas ... a degree of certainty, I suppose. Absolute confidence in the righteousness of her cause.”

“Now Lance...” I trailed off, mine eyes misting as I thought of my sister. “She inherited that drive to do right, but not Mother’s absolute certainty in herself. She questioned and doubted, and perhaps ‘twas better that she did. It gave her a sort of wisdom which I think Mother never found. Or mayhaps Mother just hid her own concerns far better.” I slowly nodded to myself as my thoughts coalesced. “Aye, I think that more likely. Mayhaps as Lance confided her fears to me, Mother spoke to Aunt Brave. When Brave passed, Mother was beside herself with grief for months afterwards, as though she lost a part of herself. A pain I know all too well, now.”

“Then we come to Thunder.” I spared a quick glance for Sierra, confirming that she still lived. “My foolish little brother who dared to challenge a foe far beyond him. He was always like that. Bold and brash to the point of arrogance, with a young stallion’s utter certainty in his own immortality.” I chuckled weakly as I recalled one of many memories. “He and Flash always wanted to spar against Lance and I, e’en though we were both older and more experienced. Each defeat only seemed to fire their determination further. I heard it said once that Mother was much the same in her youth, ere time and experience tempered her passions.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I suppose we shall ne’er know if they would have grown as she did. Now Thunder is dead, and Flash seems broken by the loss of his other half.”

A cry of pain briefly stole my attention, and I glanced at Dawn as she tended another patient. “Then we come to my dearest sister. Dawn was made to be a healer, not a soldier on the field of battle. ‘Twas unfair of me to demand so much of her, as if she would not tend thee to the best of her skills. I fear that every life she cannot save will haunt her, as I know Lance’s passing does.” I saw her head hang low as her patient breathed his last. “I can see the pain of it in her every step. Pain made all the keener by Swift’s damned campaign of whispers against her. It eats at her very soul to hear it said that she failed to preserve Lance’s life through incompetence, let alone the treason Swift so subtly hints at by mentioning her Kicker sire so often. I pray the day comes when I can strike him down for all his many crimes.”

I turned back to Sierra, meeting and holding her eyes. “Now dost thou see, my friend? I must preserve thy family. I fear mine own is shattered beyond repair, but ‘tis not too late for me to save thine. And...” A tremble passed down my spine as I confessed the final truth. “I ... I cannot continue this war without thee. I am not a leader, as my sister was. ‘Twas always Lance’s destiny to inherit the clan, while I would serve at her right hoof. An advisor and trusted second, but not a leader in mine own right. I could not have lead the hetairoi half so well without thee, nor stood ‘gainst Swift and the corruption he represents. Please, do not leave me, for I cannot do this on mine own! I ... I lack the strength for it.”

Though Sierra said nothing, I felt her hold upon my hoof tighten, and a ghost of a smile played across her lips. E’en though no words were said, I grasped the message she wished to convey. Likely if the words would not have pained her so badly she would have called me a fool once more, and told me to cease being so maudlin and wallowing in self-pity. She had always been one to speak her mind, and quite bluntly when she felt ‘twas required, regardless of the fact that I was technically her superior.

Finally she spoke, her words wet with pain. “Dusk. My daughter. Make sure she ... goes ... Stalwart.”

I growled and stubbornly shook my head. “Neigh. Do not speak of such things. Thou wilt be reunited with her soon enough. Thou art lucky, in a way. Thou wilt have much time to spend with her and thy husband both as thy wounds mend. I shall likely be stuck putting out a dozen small brushfires and stamping out the last pockets of resistance to the Avatar’s rule while thou dost enjoy the peace we fought for.”

Once more she said nothing to me, but the sorrow in her eyes was statement enough. I do not know how long we remained together in silence before the messenger arrived.

“Dusk.” I started in surprise as Flash’s voice tore my attention away from Sierra. My brother had clearly seen better days, his armor damaged and his face sporting several fresh bruises. His ears lay flat against his skull, and his shoulders were slumped low. “I ... come bearing news from Mother. You are to withdraw at once.”

I could scarcely credit his words. “Withdraw?! But we have opened a line to strike into the very heart of the enemy!”

“Aye,” Flash agreed, “but the army is in no state to exploit it. Through fell trickery, Shadow has succeeded in reclaiming the southern gates from us. We cannot bring soldiers forward to your position—not in sufficient numbers to accomplish anything. If you do not withdraw at once, you are in grave danger of being surrounded by enemy forces.”

“But...” my gaze travelled to the numerous hetairoi who had given their lives to take this position. Ponies who had made that sacrifice believing that ‘twould bring a decisive victory and put an end to the war. Yet if what my brother said was true, they would all have died for nothing. Taking a position, only to abandon it because of defeats elsewhere on the battlefield. “Was all of this for nothing? All this death...”

“Dusk,” My brother’s voice was surprisingly firm and commanding. “Brother, you must focus on the matters before you. Mourn the dead later, for now you must preserve what remains of your command. Order the withdrawal.”

I shook my head, trying to restore my wounded mind to order. Flash was right. I had my duty. “Dawn, how swiftly can we prepare the wounded for transport?” I called, turning back to look at her.

My sister looked up from her current patient, her eyes wide as she stared at me. “Prepare them for transport? Art thou mad?! We have no litters to bear them upon, and e’en if we did, half of them would likely die from the strain of being moved. Not to mention it takes at least two healthy soldiers to bear a litter, with four being preferable. E’en if we had the supplies, we lack the needed numbers to move them.”

I turned to order Flash to go back to the main force and request aid, but the words died upon my lips. I knew all too well what the answer would be. By the time Flash could return to the main force and organize a relief expedition, we would already have been o’erwhelmed by Celestia’s soldiers. In all likelihood, the Avatar and Swift would refuse to e’en authorize such a venture. ‘Twould only sacrifice more soldiers and chirurgeons in a lost cause.

I knew all too well what the proper answer was, yet I could not bring myself to speak it. Not when I sat next to Sierra, holding one of her hooves. After a long silence, Flash spoke the dreaded words. “Then you have no choice. Those who cannot travel unaided must be left behind. Otherwise, the entire hetairoi will be captured.”

‘Twas the only rational choice, yet my heart instinctively rebelled against it. To lead so many of my soldiers to a pointless death, then abandon so many of the survivors was simply ... wrong. I could no more abandon Sierra in her hour of need than I could chop of mine own right leg.

Dawn, having overheard my brother’s suggestion, stood tall and nodded to herself. “So be it. I shall remain here and tend to them until Celestia’s forces arrive.”

“That is madness,” Flash growled.

For once, my brother and I were in total agreement. “Hast thou taken leave of thy senses, sister?!” I bellowed at her. “They will capture thee as well.”

“I am aware,” Dawn answered calmly, holding her shoulders firm. “But I am a chirurgeon, and they are my patients. I will not—I cannot abandon them. A chirurgeon’s skills are valued, so I expect I will be treated well so long as I agree to treat the wounds of Celestia’s forces as well.” She paused, and a bitter smile twisted her lips. “And ‘tis well known that I am half a Kicker by blood. That will afford me more protection than most.”

“I forbid it,” I snarled. “I will not lose thee to the enemy. As thine elder and thy superior officer, I order thee to—”

Dawn sighed and shook her head. “Brother, I am about to be taken prisoner by a hostile army. I think under the circumstances, a charge of insubordination is the least of my worries. I will remain here unless thou dost use force to remove me.” Her eyes narrowed. “And that will not be an easy task.”

I looked between Dawn, Sierra, and mine own wounded soldiers. I knew my sister would not be swayed from her course. E’en if I succeeded in forcing her departure, she would likely ne’er forgive me for it. Nor would I forgive myself for not standing watch o’er Sierra. Though I would not accept that she might die, I also could not bring myself to leave my death watch at her side. There was only one solution. “Flash, I am appointing thee as temporary acting commander of the hetairoi. Take all those who are fit to travel and withdraw them from the battlefield ere the enemy encircles us.”

My brother blinked in shock. “Dusk, you ... you are...”

“I am.” I confirmed. “A commanding officer should not abandon their soldiers in the field. If so many of the hetairoi must be left behind, then my fate shall be the same as theirs.”

Sierra jolted at my words, squeezing my hoof almost painfully hard. “No. Dusk, you ... you must ... the army needs—”

“Peace,” I murmured, gently placing a restraining hoof upon her lest she worsen her wounds with her exertions. “I know what the army needs. But my soldiers need me more. If I cannot be loyal to them, I do not deserve the army’s loyalty.”

Besides, I thought with a bitter twist of resentment, if I did withdraw while leaving so many of the hetairoi to be captured, Swift would no doubt use it to label me a coward and further undermine what little authority I still retained. Indeed, I would likely be lucky to spend the rest of this war locked inside a stockade.

Flash stared at me for several long moments, stiff in shock. “Dusk ... you are certain that you wish to pursue this course?”

“I am.” I squeezed Sierra’s hoof once more.

Flash’s head hung low for several moments, then he nodded to himself. “So be it, then. And ... fare you well, brother.” Another silent moment hung between us, and then he took charge of what little remained of the hetairoi after the final battle I had so foolishly led them into.

Sierra still stubbornly clung to life when Celestia’s forces arrived to accept our surrender. To my immense relief, a unicorn chirurgeon was amongst their number, and at Dawn’s urging he made his way to Sierra’s side. I dared to hope that magic might accomplish what my sister’s skill could not and save my friend’s life.

As the unicorn applied his magic, I searched the enemy ranks until I finally found a red-armored pegasus. “Pony of Clan Kicker, I would ask a boon of you. Sierra Doo, wife of Stalwart Kicker, is amongst our number and gravely wounded. I ask that her husband be informed of her presence here at once. He should be here if she...” E’en then, I could not bring myself to say the words. “... he should be here.”

The Kicker’s face fell at my words, and his voice was surprisingly subdued. “I ... I understand. Might I speak with her?”

I saw little point in such a visit, but arguing the matter would likely consume more time than the visit itself. I quickly led the Kicker to her side. “Sierra, I have news of Stalwart.”

My friend’s eyes turned hopefully to the Kicker at my side, but rather than confirm her identity and rush to find her husband, he sighed heavily and slowly removed his helmet. When the Kicker spoke, his words struck me like a hammer. “Madam, I ... I regret that I must inform you that Sergeant Stalwart Kicker perished in the fighting at the southern gates. It is said he acquitted himself heroically, saving the life of Honored Shadow herself before he—”

“No!” Sierra choked out, fresh blood coating her lips as tears gathered in her eyes. “He can’t ... not both of us! Not ... both .. of us. Astra...” Her eyes slowly closed, and she slumped against the cavern floor.

My friend died of her wounds less than a minute later.

Author's Notes:

As always, thanks to my pre-reading and editing team for all their hard work. Also, I would like to thank all my dedicated Patreon supporters. You guys are awesome.

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