In its heyday, Amore’s Rest would have been a bustling city full of vigorous activity. The sheer overgrowth of the magical farmland around the delta and still-thick orchards near the coliseum bore testament to the productivity of just the city’s farms. Damage from the final battle remained. Entire chunks of the taller buildings had been torn away by artillery shell impacts and shell casings from small arms and Alliance artillery pieces littered the ground near the city walls.

At the edge of the first orchard lay a large trench that now lay overgrown with greenery. At trench’s end was the burned out husk of an Equestrian frigate, a gaping hole in its starboard hull pointing skyward. The vessel had nearly been consumed by vines, but even the overgrowth had failed to erase the wound that had felled it.

Firefly led the squads on foot under cover of the remaining orchards until they reached the wall. Rain had failed to wash away signs of fighting. Blast shadows persisted in spite of the constant drizzle, large divots and cracks marred the outer stone surface, and the shattered carriages and blown out barrels of destroyed Alliance artillery crowned the battered ramparts. One section on the southwest side had fallen away completely, likely the victim of a Talon siege gun.

Firefly gestured toward the breach with a hoof. “That’s our entry point.”

She half-climbed, half-flew up the fallen stone on the outside before digging her hooves in to slow her skid down the inner slope. One by one the squads silently followed. Their entrance secured, Firefly scanned the area and paired up landmarks with the map they had reviewed.

“One klick north. Let’s go.”

The stone buildings and earthy color palette of Amore’s Rest proper stood in stark contrast to Crystal Spire’s sleek, sharp crystalline lines and layout. Whereas the capital seemed cut by a titan who fancied jewelry, Amore’s Rest appeared to be grown organically from the earth itself. Curved streets meandered between tightly-packed row houses and only the occasional decorative crystal obelisk indicated that this was any place other than a quaint Equestrian town.

Despite its rustic charm, however, Amore’s Rest was still a war zone. Within the walls, signs of old activity lingered, an eerie snapshot of life before the exodus. Abandoned merchant stands lined the thoroughfares. Locked up houses lay dormant, still awaiting their masters’ return. Storefronts stood empty, their windows smashed and their goods long ago looted.

They passed more signs of conflict in the streets. Craters had been carved out of the street by explosions and broken pieces of building stone remained where it had fallen months ago. Building facades were riddled with bullet holes and signage had been shot to splinters by bullets and shrapnel. There was, however, a noticeable lack of bodies and bloodstains.

The last leg of the trip was the most difficult. An airship had broken up over the city during the fight, its pieces crashing down upon the exact blocks through which Firefly would have to navigate. She cursed and pulled her troops into a nearby derelict building to consult the paper map.

By now, all of those who could sweat were doing so profusely. Their flight jackets had long since been doffed and lashed down to their combat saddles. Even with natural coats exposed, the heat and humidity remained oppressive as ever. Dragons did not sweat, but Grana and Khog were noticeably uncomfortable, their usual vigor melting into trudging consternation.

“Take five. Drink some water, sit for a bit while I figure out a detour around the wreck.”

“Are we there yet?” Sunburst snarked.

“Sunshine, when we extract, I’m strapping you to the keel of the ARC ship, got it?”

Sunburst nearly choked on his drink as he laughed into his canteen. “After sweating my balls off in this hellhole, feeling the arctic breeze running over them will be a relief!”

“Gross!” Eastwind stuck out her tongue in disgust. “I’ll soak up the heat while I can. When we get back out there I’ll be chilled to the bone again.”

“Nothing like Cirria, eh?”

“Nothing like it. Sometimes they made snow for the fillies to play in, but we all knew it was temporary. Rest of the time it was nothing but heat blowing in off the Saddle Arabian coast during the dry season.”

“I’d imagine that was dry heat, though,” Thunderlane said, swiping a fetlock across his brow. “You breathe deep enough and you’ll drown in this!”

“Something the matter, Grana?” Firefly noted the dragon’s pensive stare out the window.

“This first battle here, such a shame,” she said. “These Crystal Ponies were just caught in the crossfire.”

Innocuous as the words initially were, Firefly could immediately sense dis-ease descend upon the squad. “Yeah the pirate attack sucked. But the Alliance got who they could out before the pirates came back. We saved lives. That’s what matters.”

“The Alliance brought their war here.”

Firefly’s hoof gouged a channel in the softened floorboards. The rush of emotion from that night at the Horseshoe when they’d first encountered Typhon slammed into her like a tidal wave. For one fleeting moment, Firefly wished nothing more than to be able to punch Grana in the mouth. Even if it was just the clipped, prim, Pyrian accent that put a smug edge on her voice and not actual malice, Firefly struggled to restrain her hoof. Now was neither the time nor the place for this argument. Regulations and mission required that she keep her emotions in check.

“We’re here to get a job done, not debate politics!” Firefly slammed her hoof into the floorboards, drawing all eyes and ears to her. She glared daggers at Grana, her voice falling to a low growl. “I don’t like pulling rank, Lieutenant. But unless you have something mission-relevant to say, I don’t want to hear another word out of your damn mouth! Understood?”

Grana balled a fist and gritted her teeth. Firefly’s knife hoof twitched. For a tense moment, it appeared a fight might break out in the dilapidated house. Finally, Grana took a deep breath, meeting Firefly’s gaze but unable to match its intensity. She looked down, relaxed her fist, and nodded.

“Understood, Commander.”

An uncomfortable beat of silence lingered before Eastwind finally changed the subject. “Do we have a route yet?”

Firefly nodded slowly, her voice still rough coming off her anger high. “We can exit this building through the west entrance and follow the alleys two blocks over. Then we’ll turn north and continue toward the Empress’ Square. Understood?”

“Aye,” came the chorus of acknowledgments.

Firefly stowed her map and trotted to the back door of the building. The door creaked open slowly, its hinges rusted in the tropical air. Firefly gave it a shove, finally freeing it and allowing them to exit into the next street.

The Timberwolves continued north. As they neared the city center, the black drizzle broke into a downpour. Thunder roared above and building shadows danced beneath violet flashes of forked lightning. Firefly led her team through the mass of awnings in the street in a vain attempt to stay dry. The sooty spray kicked up by movement and unpredictable gusts of wind clung to coats and scales in a slick film of dirty gray.

Finally, the labyrinthine streets terminated in the circular cobblestone plaza of the city center. To the north, the shadow of the shield obelisk loomed. Lightning arced around it, highlighting the scars of war in fleeting flashes of ghostly fluorescence. Firefly squinted into the haze.

In the middle of the plaza stood the monument to Empress Amore. Dwarfed as she was by the obelisk, the statue still towered over Firefly and her troops. Amore’s visage was every bit as stoic and defiant as it was in Rafale’s photograph. Even after Tartarus had opened its gates and spewed forth hellfire around her, the Empress persisted untouched by the ravages of war and time.

Wind, rain, and thunder provided ample audible cover as Firefly smashed the lock to the door of a three-story structure overlooking the plaza. She swept her weapon across the room as the Timberwolves breached. The smell of wet earth and old paper wafted into Firefly’s nostrils. It appeared the ground floor was a shop, a bookstore judging by the myriad shelves and rotting tomes slotted into them.

“Typhon, hold the ground floor. Timberwolves, sweep the upper levels.”

The troops fanned out through the building, sweeping weapons over every sight line on the ground floor. With the first level cleared, the Timberwolves stacked and swept their way up the rear stairs to the second level. At the top of the stairs, the floor split into two apartment spaces. Firefly shouldered in the first door, weapon at the ready.

Dead air was the only greeting. Loose articles of clothing and dropped books and trinkets were scattered about the common room and the bedroom. Dishes and pots in the sink remained unwashed. The occupants appeared to have departed in a hurry, leaving an eerie snapshot of prewar life. Having completed her sweep with Thunderlane, Firefly trotted back into the stairwell. She was greeted by Eastwind, who shook her head, indicating that the other apartment was also clear.

Finally, they pushed into the uppermost level. The roof of the building was partially caved in, the victim of a light artillery shell. The side facing the plaza was now fully open, leaving a panoramic view of the entire park. The rest of the upper level appeared to be cold storage. Various crates and metal tube shelving bearing partially scorched books and clothing occupied the remaining space.

“Sunburst, Eastwind.” Firefly pointed to toward the square. “I need a sniper position here, overlooking the park. Report back to me once you’ve completed a survey of the area. We need to figure out if we’re alone here.”

“Aye.”

“Thunderlane, with me. We’re heading back down.”

Sunburst and Eastwind dropped their packs and unhitched their weapons, getting to work preparing the hide. Firefly turned and headed back down the stairs. Upon arrival downstairs, she dumped her pack and jacket on the counter of the bookstore and withdrew the map again. She unrolled the map on a nearby coffee table, rotating it this way and that until it lined up with the landmarks she could see through the shop windows. Picking up a few scattered books, Firefly anchored the corners of the map and leaned over it.

“Anything magical coming up, Roshina?” she asked without looking up.

“I sense nothing save the interference from the obelisk. We are safe from arcane threats, for now.”

“See if you can get some minor wards set up. I want to be safe from basic scrying but not so much that we’re lit up like a magic beacon. Khog, Zaan, Grana, and Thunderlane, keep an eye out. I don’t want anyone getting the jump on us from ground level.”

“Aye.”

“Now we wait,” Firefly muttered, mostly to herself.

“You’ve probably figured it out by now, but there is not a gods-damned bit of cover out there,” Sunburst said. “Nice and artsy, but terrible if you’re looking for a firefight.”

Firefly rubbed her forehead as she thought through the opening of the briefing. “We’ll have to work around that.”

“You expect us to sweep the entire plaza with no cover?” Khog hissed. “Do you want us all to be sniper bait?”

Firefly’s hoof involuntarily clawed at the floorboards. Khog was being his usual self and jumping the gun. She didn’t know if the heat and humidity was starting to get to everyone or if there was still lingering tension from the earlier clash with Grana.

“That’s not what I said, Khog!” Firefly growled. “No, we won’t have cover. But we’re not gonna run in there like a bunch of drunken yaks, either! Sunburst, continue.”

“Are you always that premature, Red?” Sunburst sneered, drawing a chuckle from the Timberwolves and an annoyed growl from Khog. An exasperated sigh from Firefly set him back on track. “There’s no hard cover, but Windy and I noticed that the storm blows fog through the city every three to five minutes or so; perfect visual concealment.”

“That’s our in.” Firefly nodded. “Windy, any ideas on where the drop is?”

“There appear to be only two places within the plaza the drop could be hidden.” Eastwind circled two locations on the map with a pencil before continuing. “One is the admin building to the northeast. The other is the monument itself. Everywhere else we checked was just broken planters and empty park benches. There is literally nothing else out there.”

“Potential ambush sites?”

“Everywhere and anywhere?” Sunburst chuckled. “You find a crack in a wall anywhere in this city and you can probably stuff a birdlion in it!”

Eastwind glared at him. “Thankfully a short list. It looks like the park was hit pretty hard during the initial battle. Most of the buildings around the perimeter of the park are nothing but rubble. It’s a miracle this building we’re in is still standing.”

She pointed to a building near one of the objective markers. “First, there’s a two-story building on the northwest end of the plaza opposite the admin building. We didn’t see any activity there, but it has direct line of sight to both this hide’s north exit and the admin building.”

“Second, there’s a temple on the east side.” Eastwind slid her hoof to the west side of the plaza on the map near the other marker. “It has a large steeple that’s an ideal sniper perch. Again, zero activity, but it has direct line of sight to the monument. You will be covered on your approach and while clearing the admin building but not while you’re searching the statue.”

“Anything else?” Firefly looked to her wingmare before turning to Sunburst. “Sunshine?”

“Nope. That covers everything.”

“All right, listen up!” Firefly barked her orders.

“That means you, Khog,” Roshina snickered. Khog growled in consternation.

Firefly pointed to the objective markers as she made her assignments. “Roshina and Khog, you’ll skirt the outer edge of the plaza to the west search the Hushed Empress.”

“Understood, Commander.”

“Thunderlane, you’re with me. We’re going to follow the alleys to the east and then cut across the plaza to the admin building.” She pointed to each of the team members as she mentioned them. “Sunburst and Eastwind, I want you to maintain overwatch on the plaza. Grana and Zaan, you’ll be on standby as QRF and ground level security for the hide. We maintain radio silence unless shit goes south. Questions?”

The room remained silent. “Get to your posts. We move on the next storm cycle.”

Firefly slipped her goggles down and armed her repeater. The away team assembled at the north door of the building while the sniper team ascended the stairs to their perch. All remaining troops on the ground floor eagerly watched the windows as they awaited the shifting mist to return.

Slowly, the storm thickened. Soot-black rain was joined by a seething, grey fog that rolled in through the streets, finally collecting in the plaza. Firefly spotted eddies swirling around corners and wispy vortices forming around signposts indicating that the wind was still blowing strongly.

“Go time,” she said, gesturing with her muzzle toward the door. Firefly pushed open the door just long enough to exit, allowing the four time to step out before the springs pulled it shut again. They as they departed the building, Firefly and Thunderlane heading right and Roshina and Khog heading left.

Tepid raindrops splattered upon Firefly’s goggles. Undulating rills snaked down her face and neck. The world faded into a dim mist, a stifling miasma that smothered the senses. It was a far cry from the soft haze that lingered around her uncle’s old cabin outside Fillydelphia after a spring rain. This was rotting mist in black rain in the heart of a dead city. There were no walls to shield her, no comforting patter of rain on corrugated metal sheeting, and no protection from whatever lurked beneath the hellstorm.

Firefly quickly glanced behind her to ensure that Thunderlane was still in tow. The rookie flashed a grin and gestured ahead in encouragement. As she led on, Firefly couldn’t help but crack a wry grin. Thunderlane’s spirit was inextinguishable.

A squat, square stone building no bigger than a base prefab hut materialized out of the mist ahead. The southeast corner was caved in from an artillery hit, as indicated by the splintered cobbles outside. Firefly slowed her pace, inching forward with weapon raised. She flipped the switch on her harness with a hoof to activate her flashlight.

The searing white light burned away the darkness inside the admin building. Motes of moisture danced in front of Firefly’s face, scattering the light into a softly glowing beam. Assorted notebooks and papers lay scattered about the floor and counters. The smell of moldy paper hammered Firefly’s nostrils.

“Looks clear, Jefa,” Thunderlane said, finishing the sweep of his half of the structure. “Guess we’re the only ones here.”

“Look for anything out of place. Hecate said nothing about what form the drop would take, but it’s definitely more recent than the rest of this.”

Milky white circles of illumination danced around inside as the two furiously searched. Firefly rummaged through reams of rotted records, tattered log books, old seat cushions, and the remains of a wooden storage trunk. The trunk yielding nothing of interest, Firefly moved on to the metal storage cabinets on the wall.

“What a mess,” she grumbled.

“Hey, I think I have something,” Thunderlane whispered.

“Let’s take a look.”

Thunderlane brushed some loose paper off an innocuous-looking pile by the front counter. Beneath it, lay a military ammunition canister clearly marked for Aquellian machine gun rounds. Firefly raised an eyebrow.

“This definitely doesn’t belong here.”

She reached down and opened the latch. Inside was not ammunition, but a single clipboard-sized metal plate with an aetherium gem embedded where a the clip would have been. Placing her hoof upon it caused the gem to faintly glow, projecting four floating squares just above the surface of the plate.

“It’s an amanuensis tablet,” Thunderlane stared in fascination. “This has to be the dead drop.”

“All right,” Firefly nodded. “We’ve got the package. Time to signal Roshina so we can fall back.”

Firefly put a hoof up to the west window of the admin building, wiping away some of the sooty grime that had blown in from outside. If she squinted, she could just make out the outline of the Hushed Empress in the center of the plaza. Amore’s shadow loomed heavy in the mist, rimmed by the weak trickle of sunlight through the stormclouds and backlit by periodic flashes of lightning above.

“We’ll have to wait for the next storm cycle. Looks like it’s clearing up.”

The fog began to lift shortly after Thunderlane spoke. Wind howled through the broken walls of the admin building, throwing up fragments of stone dust, sooty rain, and what few dry leaves of paper remained. Misty wisps flowed through the city streets, funneling outwards until the plaza was suddenly clear again.

A flurry of activity at the base of the Hushed Empress caught Firefly’s eye. Khog pointed to something near the hoof of the Empress. Roshina immediately reached to retrieve it.

“What the hell are they doing?”

“Wait,” Thunderlane blurted. “If we have the package, then what’s that?”

Firefly saw the flash first. The side of the statue scintillated and sparked as a lance of liquid fire erupted upon impact, slicing through the air behind it. Adrenaline surged through Firefly’s veins at the sound of thunder against cast metal.

Her pupils narrowed to pinpricks and the dull hammer strokes of heartbeats hammered her skull as the scene unfolded before her in slow motion. Through the cracked, dirty glass, Firefly helplessly watched as the glowing lance pierced Roshina’s body. Thunderlane’s shocked cry echoed the chilling realization that swept through her like bitter frost.

“SNIPER!”

Author's Notes:

Details, details. I need to stop proofing because then I'm tempted to edit content instead of copy. The end of Act 2 is imminent. Stand by for plot twists.

Musical Index
ACZ: The Belkan War - The Inferno