The Gods Among Us: A Gleaming Blade

When he first crossed into the tent he was greeted by what seemed to be a cloud of smoke. Around the place there was at least six or seven ashtrays, all of them filled to the brink, and there was more than one empty bottle of cheap ale. And turned in the direction of the entrance, standing over a table, there was a Horn with white skin and double colored blue mane.

“What is it?” Shining Armor barked his question, short and with a tone of annoyance, and looked up, his gaze very slightly hazed. Under his eyes there were large dark circles, and you could see a few too many blood veins in his eyes. His arms were also a tad more flabby than the last time they had meet, though still more impressive than most Horns. It would also be reasonable to expect that his breath would have the stench of a sailor just used his entire day at a bar. In short; no sleep, no exercise, a highly stressful job and personal issues. He had been like that for months now.

“We’ve scouted a small camp of them to the south here, which we suspect is trying to scout weaknesses in our camp.”

Not that it would matter. This camp had no real strengths, other than a high risk. Camp Deathbed they called it; when you were sent here you were sleeping in your last bed. The Fucking Frontlines. TFF for short, when the more prissy officers were around.

“Then you need to stop them, don’t you?”

“Yes Sarmor, Sir.”

Most people just called him Sarmor. It was just easier that way. Shining Armor was the head of the Canterlot Guard, not the tired general before him. It was hard to imagine how it would be, he was barely older than himself, but he still bore the weight of leading all of Equestria’s armies.

Shining Armor shook his head and adjusted his chest plate ever so slightly. Even he, Royal Guard and now General, had little more armor to speak of over his clothes, other than on his lower legs and forearms. Pros; mobility and protection of some vital body parts. Cons; it was still really fucking easy to kill you. The common foot soldiers were screwed. That much was known. Luckily these Horns and Wings could even some of the odds.

“Alright, Brute” Sarmor looked down at the map again. “What can you tell me about them? How many are they?”

“Only seven or eight, we think. It’s not like we’ve seen anything other than a camp filled with people with some marks of… them.”

“I see. You know what to do.”
The general turned around to look at a larger map of Equestria and some of the lands beyond.
It wasn’t hard to guess were his eyes were fixed; not on the south where they were now, like most people, but on what was simply known as the Frozen North. He had more reason than most though.

“Why is it that only a week before this conflict starts, the only thing that could end this quickly goes away?”

“Sarmor?”

“My sister, Cladus. She was sent to the north with her friends just before all of this started. It just doesn’t make sense.”

Sarmor was right, it didn’t make sense. Not to him or anyone else. Only the Princesses themselves would have any idea why, and they were no more talkative about the subject than the walls of the tent around them. Cladus shook his head, just like Sarmor had done a minute or two ago.

“You’re right, General, but what can you do? You’re boning a Princess and you still have no idea. I doubt anyone other than you sister, Celestia and Luna had the faintest idea what the hell is going on with the Elements. Pardon my language.”

“Why bother? Not like I give a damn about what words you use anyway. No fucking need to be formal anymore. That went out of the window when Appleloosa became enemy territory.”

Sarmor hadn’t even thrown a glance at him while he spoke, only staring at hat damned map. Cladus tried to put it from his mind and focus on the task, but the general had been right. They had to look into this thing with Twilight Sparkle and her friends. If they didn’t they would give up on the strongest weapon they had.

“Why are you still here?” Sarmor had lit another cigarette and turned around, glaring at him. Right, he had to get the fuck out and do something useful.

“Sorry, Sir, I thought you had something more to say.”

“Bah,” Sarmor brushed him off with a gesture that both told him to shut the fuck up and to get the fuck out of his site. He wasn’t in the mood for this. Not that he ever was, but this must have been a particularly bad night for it.

**

When he came outside, Cladus felt like he could breathe again for the first time in a long while. Common experience for someone who walked in and out of Sarmor’s tent. How he could stand it was a good question, but compared to the other details about his situation some bad air seemed to mean little. He probably had too much to think about to even notice.

“Sargent! Halt, I desire a word with you,” From behind he could hear an all too familiar voice. He turned around and was greeted by the sight of the last person he wanted to see right now;
Lieutenant Cock Gobbler… erh… Golden Pear.

“What!?” with a roll of his eyes and a sharp, annoyed tone he greeted the Horn. “I’m kinda busy here.”

“Yes, I am sure the General entrusted you with matters of the gravest importance. Please, if it was truly important he would have come to me or one of the other lieutenants, not a sargent. Now, if you’re done pretending to be someone of note, I have a mission for you.”

“Go bother someone else,” with pretty much the same gesture that Sarmor had given him, he turned around and tried to continue on his way, but Cock Gobbler took a hold of his shoulder with his damned Horn. “What now!?”

“I am a ranking officer and you will follow orders.”

“I am. I am following General Sarmor’s orders and you’re in my way.”

“That is General Shining Armor to you, and you will wait right here until I have this confirmed.”

Fucking entitled nobleborn Horn. It was no secret that most people despised him, but there was little anyone could do. After Sarmor himself, he was probably the best tactician in Equestria and one of the best fighters among the Horns. With a weapon he was no more useful than a newborn babe, but he was undeniably skilled with magic.

As soon as Cock Gobbler turned his back on him Cladus shook his head and continued to his destination; the little scouting team he had put together for this. Cock Gobbler shouted that he’d be reported for this and that he acted like a Brute.

Hmph. Snobbish moron. No idea that Brute was no more of an insult that Horn or Wing was. Physical strength and endurance, proficiency with weaponry and heavy infantry. That was their addition to the armies. None of the battles that had been won could have been so without their help. Hit’n’Run worked well, until you actually had to hold a position.

“Here’s the man right here!”

Someone laid a hand on his shoulder from behind. Shortly after he hit the “someone” in the shoulder, letting out a chuckle as he did. Merry. Bloody fast Wing, if there ever was one. And one of the best damn scouts he had ever worked with. Not bad with a bow either. Or in bed. Behind her Cladus could see the rest of the group he had spent a lot of time with lately.

“C’mon, what is our next move? Do we get to kill those bastards?”

He nodded as a Horn enthusiastically drew his thumb across his throat. There was a fire in his eyes about the whole thing. Well, the usual fire was more intense than usual. “Fucking pyromaniac” was the best description of this guy, it you looked away from the dark red color and orange hair. Gold Fire lived up to his name, in a scary way. But he was still better company than Brother Cock Gobbler.

“Oh yeah! This is going to be fun, right Melinda?” Gold Fire looked at Merry, who glared back. In about two seconds there would be a fist planted somewhere on Gold Fire’s face. Only an idiot called Merry Melinda. Or someone with a desire for pain. Realizing his mistake, he quickly corrected it to Merry. “What about you, Cai?”

The last of their little group, Cai the light blue Brute, remained silent and rolled his eyes. He was always like that. Not that Cladius blamed him, he had been through much. No one had told him, or anyone else, exactly how much, but he had been a resident at Appleloosa for the last few years, until it fell. Probably some fucked up shit printed to his mind. Heck of a fighter though, the way he handled a sword. Made it uncomfortable to speculate on what he did in his earlier life. The only thing one really knew is that he had no ties to the Royal Guard, or else he’d be a commander, and that he was more skilled than most of them with a weapon.

“Cladus, a word?” Cladus, Merry and Gold Fire all held their breath when he opened his mouth. They had heard him speak before, but only the bare necessities with reports and the like.

“Sure,” Cladus nodded and gestured for them to get clear of the others. If he wanted to talk to Cladus alone, there was no chance for words with the others around. Not even words to say he wanted to speak in private. They stopped in a small cluster of two-man tents whose occupants had just gone to duty.

“The general, how is he? I’ve heard people say he is… distracted.”

“I…” Cladus started. Cai was right, of course, but it was still something he wasn’t sure how to talk about. Sarmor had walked his talk so far, despite the distractions. But Cai was, at the end of the day, right and he couldn’t deny that. Not even if he wanted to.

“I see. Should be problematic, if nothing is done about it soon. I just hope his sister comes back from chasing old stories soon. Nothing good can come from that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, chasing stories?” Cai’s eyes narrowed, before he went back to the others, leaving Cladus and his question alone. What had just happened?

**

“So, what did Cai want?” Merry said as she came into his tent. He hadn’t taken the time to inform the others of the details for their mission, they all knew how it would go down; the night was too old for assassinations, meaning they had to wait until next night to do it properly, so they should get some sleep while they were at it. Instead he had gone straight to bed, in his slightly better tent that the rank-less soldiers. At least his had some conveniences, like a place for him to clean up without having to wait in a line.

“No idea.”

A true enough statement, if inaccurate. He did remember the question just fine, but what Cai had actually wanted? He wished he knew. First time they had spoken and it left Cladus a bit uncertain as to just what the hell had just happened. So had the rest of this night as well, if he were going to be honest. It seemed to confused. Both Sarmor and Cai were… he had no idea. He was good at leading people, not reading them. Only one letters difference, on the paper, but in action that one letter meant all the difference in the world.

He looked at his most recent addition to the tent; Merry had grey skin and black hair, an ever so slightly crooked nose and light blue eyes. Her breasts weren’t much in the apartment of size, but they were cute. Same with her hindquarters. It seemed to be a common trait among the Wings.

She crawled over to him with a smile and kissed him. They had done this before, a few times at least. It had gotten very clear that as a seventeen year old girl in a camp full of soldiers she would benefit from having someone to do. Not because of any need to for her own desires, but because there were enough others with desires here, and enough stress to make them go ballistic. Easier for everyone if she just chose someone she wanted to fuck. Well, in Cladus’ mind anyway. He had come out on top with this one, so he’d be the last to complain about it.

He broke the kiss to lift her on top of him. As he did so he glanced at her hip, seeing the silver dagger resting there. She had gotten that one week after she had joined the army, or so she said. A trophy for her first kill, or something like that. A good testament to her skill with knives though; as good as any demonstration.

Once on top of him she kissed him again, while he let his hands explore her body. Starting at her chest, he left one hand on her breast and moved one to her thigh. He didn’t get to enjoy it long.

With surprising strength for someone of her size, she took a hold of his hands and pulled them to above his head, before she reached and tied them together with a short rope. Where the hell had she gotten that? She had barely a thread upon her when she entered. It only took a second to figure out; her grin betrayed that she had planned this ahead of time.

With his hands out of the way, she started to untie his pants. He had learned that she was not one for ceremony a long time ago; the moment he was free of the unneeded clothing, she guided him right into her. Her inner muscles pressed against him as she slowly moved back and forth.

Cladus started to move his own hips, matching her movements. Every time she moved back, he pulled himself further out, and every time she came closer again, he went in. Before long their breath became heavier and more frequent. Their pace increased accordingly.

Merry let herself fall forward, into his chest and started to move as he did, locking their lips as she did, slightly biting at his lower lip. He could feel the strain start to build, just as Merry collapsed on top of him. Heh, she was faster than him in more ways than one. Now he just had to finish for himself.

**

It was midday or so when he woke up. Being selected for a nighttime job had its perks, at least when it came to sleeping in. He hadn’t dreamt anything. He never did when Merry spent the night with him, thank Celestia.

In the mirror above his own washing bucket he saw his own reflection; light grey color, blond hair, grey eyes. Broad shoulders, but no notably marked muscles. He wasn’t without size, but he wasn’t as fit as some of the others around the camp. Not that it mattered; it came down to what he could do, not what he looked like. And in a few hours he would be sent to do one of the things he did best.