Game of Ponies: Frozen Ashes

The emotionless ocean water coated the coastline, its taciturn seawater sliding slowly back and forth, not a whitecap in sight, as cool sand blows in the light breeze carelessly. The dead dew-gathered grass glistened in the disconsolate day, swaying away from the wind, almost bringing the sickly land to life.

The skyline furrowed its stormy brow, and exhaled a fetid breeze across the shadowed expanse of the leafless trees, the grey clouds shrouding the sun causing only a few beams of light to peak through for a few content moments before disappearing. A thick fog a mile away was slowly advancing towards the coastline, veiling anything behind it. The only sound echoing through the entire tract was the stomping of hooves and the clanking of metal on the shore, a fleet of forty five vessels mottled the dreary grey skyline, and the dark sapphire ocean. Small wooden boats peppered the coastline, several soldiers standing around each one, a spear in hoof, donning the royal colors of the Amethyst guard.

A lilac mare was standing a few hundred meters in front of the boats right where the sandy coastline meets the lifeless grass of the plain. Her ornate dark purple mane blew in the breeze as she stood proudly, her mauve eyes scanning the land, watching the thick fog gradually consume the dead, leafless trees. She wore a crown of gleaming gold, a shimmering amethyst star imbedded in the center giving off a faint glow. A cloak of the finest satin infused wool wafted gently as her mane did, its sides gilded with weightless gold from the finest mines in all of Equestria.

A dagger hung at her side a golden silk sheath that sparkled in even the darkest environments, several intricate tendril-like designs covered it. The hilt of the dagger darker than the night sky reflecting only a scant amount of light, it seemed to be both empty and full, a black shadow-like substance consumed the inside of the hilt churning around constantly. The pitch black hilt juxtaposed the golden sheath as the princess juxtaposed the gloomy grey land she was observing.

Rapid hoovesteps behind interrupted her focus, a rugged muscular stallion, with a yellow-beige coat stood behind her, his jade eyes stared at the back of her head as his golden mane flicked and danced with the wind. Unlike the soldiers hundreds of meters behind him, he donned no plate, no gold, and no mark of an Amethyst guard. He wore a dark brown padded vest, its sides slightly frayed and the leather cracked. In the center of his vest he had a stitched on purple star, resembling the fleet he was a part of. He approached her with speed, but slowed down briskly, he dropped down to his knees looking down at the colorless soil and spoke with a strong southern Equestrian accent, “Princess, we finished the count…”

The princess glanced down at him, ignoring his statement, “Which one of the commanders sent you here, navigator Burn?”

The stallion cocked his head, but still kept his eyes on the soil, “Commander Pavise Princess, he told me to…” She cut him off, “Commander Pavise of the Amethyst guard told you to come here and interrupt me?”

The stallions shook his head and shut his eyes and exhaled loudly, “It’s of dire importance Twi- Princess.”

She looked down at the handsome, flustered stallion with a firm unyielding look, “Get up Braeburn, what do you want?” She said resuming her scan of the rolling fog.

Braeburn scuffled up, looking ahead of his princess, avoiding even the slightest glance at her, “Princess, we have completed the count of the ships, we have endured some heavy casualties.” He said while giving a quick flinch at his own words.

The princess withheld a brewing sigh, “Casualties… how many ships?” She asked with a calmer yet strained tone. The air fell silent once more, the stallion seemingly at a loss for words, overcome by his uneasiness. He exhaled once more and glanced at the back of her head before responding, “Five, five ships.” He said bluntly.

She closed her eyes for a few moments, as if mourning the certain death of the hundreds of equines. “B-but,” He began once more stumbling over the first few words, “that’s not why commander Pavise told me to come, we have discovered that Viridian Sun is no longer with us… we… we have lost the vessel.”

This time the princess didn’t hesitate with a silence, she shot her head back staring directly into his eyes, “What?” she began, “How? It was in the center of the fleet!” She turned her body and tilted her head, an overwhelming worried expression shrouded her anger and fear.

“I-I don’t know princess.” Braeburn responded looking away from her gaze, “it’s just what we observed.” He softly stepped backwards.

“Where is the high General?” She asked coarsely. He stopped and gave a swift glance into her eyes, “He’s on the Aurora princess.”

She glanced out into the ship-infested ocean, she quickly set her eyes on the ship he mentioned and nodded at him. “When is he due for arrival?” She questioned.

“A sun from now Princess, after the witch.”

“Move his arrival up, I need to have a word with him.” She ordered, Braeburn gave a bow and started trotting off back to the coast. The princess opened her mouth as if she wanted to shout something at the now galloping stallion, but she only whispered, “And, she’s not a witch…”

A flash of a gleaming silver blade was the last sight for the stallion, a bloodcurdling shout was all he could let out before his head toppled to the floor, his body still standing and his open neck spraying dark red blood, darker than the southern wine being served for the spectators. A roar arose from the stands as hundreds of stallions and mares stood from their seats stomping their hooves on the stone ground cheering for the armored pony standing over the decapitated stallion. Dust enveloped the stadium repeatedly getting kicked up as another fighter was released to battle whoever won the previous fight.

A distinct metallic banging was heard, the warrior knew what that meant, a gate was being lifted, its heavy metallic barring requiring two stallions to elevate. The warrior turned around, the armor he was given beaten and scratched by the countless attacks it defended, however, it was not broken, it covered him head to hoof in heavy plated steel, not even his tail was shown. The warrior’s sword, on the other hand, was a custom piece, created from the finest ignited krotanium in all of the south, its blade swung at countless times, however, not a single scratch or dent was seen on its slick edge. Its hilt wrapped in leather multiple times, visible indents where the bite marks are, a few inches below the cross guard.

Without hesitation the fighter unsheathed the blade once more, his entirety being surrounded by floating dust, the shouts of the fans clouding whatever thoughts were coursing in his mind. The only tool he had at his disposal was his hearing, as he listened carefully to the sound of the gate being drawn. Three, four, five, numbers in his head signifying the amount of seconds that have passed since the gate started rising, the number needed was twelve, twelve seconds until another stallion was galloping into the cloud of dust with his broadsword drawn. Six, seven, eight, the warrior pressed down against the leather wrapped hilt of his sword harder, burying his teeth into it, his eyes darted around the stadium. The incomprehensible shouts of the rampant spectators never silenced. Nine… nine… was that ten? The warrior lost count, he began backing away turning briskly side to side observing the dust cloud trying to hear the unmistakable steel trot of a stallion. The fighter’s breathing increased, dust clogged up his throat but all he needed was control, he gulped, some saliva oozing down his dry throat as his eyes perused the floating dust in front of him.

The warrior’s eyes widened as the unmistakable hum of steel against steel pierced his eardrums, much closer than expected. He sprung his body to the right but it was too late, a heavy dull sword bashed against the side of his helmet sending his oddly small body sliding sideways, the sword once gripped in his teeth now skidding in the opposite direction. He simply did not have time to recuperate from the blow, whatever strategy, whatever plan he had before was knocked out of his mind. He glanced at the charging stallion with a body twice the warrior’s size, a massive broadsword gripped between his teeth. The warrior dived to his left right before the sword was brought down on his position, the heavy steel hit the ground bringing more dust to explode into the air obscuring vision further. The warrior charged at the last known position of his sword, his eyes skimming over the ground, THERE, his mind shouted as he leaned down picking up the blade mid-gallop.
He flung his body back around to greet the attacking stallion who just recovered from his failed attack and was now staring directly at the warrior. The stallion was armored, however, his neck was bare … that was the target.

The stallion galloped forth cocking his head up and bringing it down with a lethal overhead strike, both their swords met with an earth shattering metallic ring as the fans thunder in applause. Their swords still connecting as the bigger, stronger stallion pushes down against the warrior his sword sliding against the stallion’s blade until it reaches the tip, both their blades explode in a shower of sparks. The warrior jumps to the right making sure to tilt his head sideways evading the stallion’s heavier blade smacking back against the ground.

The stallion attempts to lift his head back up, but the warriors glinting sword pierces his neck its tip shooting out of the opposite side dripping crimson. The stallion pauses for a moment as the crowds deafening cheering gets drowned out by the blood rapidly filling his mouth. He gives out hoarse cough, blood coating the ground in front of him, his wide, bloodshot eyes examine the shorter, weaker armored warrior whose sword is dug into his attacker’s neck. The warrior’s emotionless steel mask indifferently looks into his opponents eyes before grabbing hold of the sword with his teeth once more vigorously ripping it out of the stallion’s neck severing the bottom of it completely as gore spills out under his collapsing body.

The warrior has little time to admire the kill, as his eyes broaden once more when a familiar sound of trotting penetrated his eardrums. This time, he thought, this time he’ll be ready… he twisted his body around meeting the much larger stallion head first, yet this one did not stop to swing his sword, instead he trampled the warrior knocking him on his back. The warrior’s sword once again flew out of his mouth, however, he retaliated quicker than lightning. He bucked his hind hooves at the stallion’s lower stomach while he was in mid-gallop causing him to fly forward flipping around and landing on his back shell-shocked.
The warrior sprung back up and quickly bit down against his sword, and started galloping towards the already standing stallion. Their blades met, the larger stallion quickly overpowering the warrior causing him to dodge to his right. The stallion swung his sword again yet the warrior skillfully parries it following up with a riposte, jabbing at the stallion’s chest. The stallion, quicker than the previous one sliced at the warriors jab causing the sword to fly out of his mouth once more, the warrior dashed to his lost sword picking it up and gripping it harder in his teeth.

The stallion let out a guttural grunt and swung again, an overhead strike with the power of a stampeding bull, however, the warrior was ready. His sword colliding against the other’s showering the warrior’s helmet with dancing sparks. With a sudden vigor the warrior jumped up, spreading his concealed wings, each feather armored with light-crafted steel, he beat his wings one time mid-air kicking up a storm of dust crashing it into the oncoming stallion.

The stallion’s open eyes became coated with dry dirt causing him to yell out in pain, opening his mouth and dropping his sword. Dust caked his throat as he toppled over coughing raspingly and covering his eyes with one of his armored hooves. The warrior, seeing his one opportunity to strike at the collapsed stallion. He plunged down to the ground, with his sword overhead slashing angrily at the stallion’s hoof-covered face. The sword cut from above the eye to below his chin smashing into the ground. Blood leaked out of his open wound as the stallion let out another horrific yell into the sky.

Part of his hoof rolled to the side, his face flushed with shock as he stared with his one functioning dust-coated eye at the dismembered half of his hoof, his stub spewing a dark cardinal liquid all over his stomach. The warrior raised up once more, peering into the eye of the blood-soaked stallion. The stallion knew his fate the second he toppled over, he tried to open his single eye before giving the warrior a nod of approval, telling him to finish what he started.

The onlookers were going wild, each one with either a happy or visceral look on their faces shouting for the warrior to tear the bleeding stallions neck open, to drink his blood, to execute him in the most entertaining way possible. Only the top few rows of stadium were visible, the rest were concealed by the cloud of dust, but from what the warrior saw, each spectator was cheering, their bloodlust about to be fulfilled. The stallion, who was now begging for a quick death was stained in his own blood.

The warrior glanced at the crowd once more, and then made his choice. He planted his hoof on the collapsed stallion’s chest, turning him over to his back, showing everyone his light brown stomach. The warrior swung the sword overhead and fiercely brought it down into the stallions lower chest, he yelled out, his eyes in utter shock looking into the warrior’s dark helmet. The warrior vigorously slashed his blade from lower chest to the stallion’s manhood and then ripped his blade out in a curtain of blood. The observers burst out into cheer watching the stallion gasp as he watched his organs spill out before his eye, pouring out onto the ground.

He died with his one eye open, his stomach spilt, and in a pool of his own blood. The warrior sheathed his blade, his torn up armor gleaming with the blood of his opponents as the dust of the arena began to settle. The rampant fans of the lower seats stood and stomped their hooves at the sight of the warrior standing next to the disemboweled stallion. The warrior took a few steps forward, to what appeared to be the center of the stadium as he looked around him.

The dust settled more, revealing that at the north of the stadium there was a golden throne dedicated to the king whose face was stricken with an unending grin of happiness. He turned to the stallion next to him, “I told you today was gonna be special, Rodrick.” The stern stallion next to him turned to meet the king’s gaze, he smirked and nodded.

The king returned his gaze to the warrior who was standing in the middle of the arena looking up at the king. The king’s grin spread wider as he stood up and raised a hoof high before lowering it signaling the cheering crowd to silence. He took a step forward before scanning the entire stadium smiling, there were a few lone cheers, either at their king or at the blood-covered warrior in front of them.
“Well well!” He began, his voice booming through the stadium, loud enough that even the pony in the highest row could hear him. “That! That is what I like to see on a beautiful day like today! Impressive!”

The crowd rose up and started roaring one more time, each one seemingly trying to stomp louder than the one next to them, even the privileged fillies who were taken to the fight by their parents were giddy with excitement at the kings next words.
“What is your name warrior?” The king bellowed down into the arena, his eyes bright and his smile wide.
The warrior stepped forward and gently kneeled down, his head lowered and peering at the ground below. He lifted a heavily armored hoof to his helmet, it was dented and scratched, whatever remnants of beauty it once had were long gone. The warrior began lifting his helmet off, before it was even half way, his hoof extended and he threw it off a few meters ahead of him. The crowd stopped cheering, their eyes agape, countless ponies covered their mouths with their hooves gasping. The king’s eyes widened as he leaned back and looked at the stallion he called Rodrick, “Well fuck me… it’s a mare.” He said, his mouth still slightly open.

“What’s your name Pegasus?” He called out, his voice a little more bewildered if not even more excited than before.
She stood up, and looked at the crowd all around her, then back at the king, staring right into his eyes.

“Dash!” She called out, her rainbow mane flowing in the light breeze, her sweaty matted fur seemed to glisten in the sunlight. She gave a quick smirk as the dust around her finished settling, three bodies of three stallions, each one larger than the next were scattered around the arena.

The king nodded and shouted, “Well, Dash! Appears you are victorious!” The entire stadium rose up for a third time, shouting and yelling out various words ranging from congratulatory remarks to rude insults towards the rainbow maned mare below.

The king sat back down on his thrown and leaned over Rodrick, “Take her away,” he said before resting his head on the cushioned dark golden throne.
Suddenly the gates began opening, each one loudly rising up. Dash looked around to both sides of her and then back at the king, looking at him in a perplexed manner. The ponies of the stadium still shouting and cheering. Two massive stallions entered the stadium, plated with ebony colored krotanium plated armor, each one walking slowly over to dash, their hooves thundered against the ground causing the crowd to cheer louder. Their helmets styled in the shape of skulls, dark silver horns jutting out of them. Each one had a steel baton in their mouths, their wolf-like sharpened teeth biting into the metallic handle.

Before Dash could react the stallion to her right swung the baton overhead and cracked down against her wing, she let out a scream of shock and anger before the one to the left did the same. She toppled over to the ground, her muzzle buried in the dust. Each stallion took hold of one of her fore hooves and began dragging her into the entrance of the now opening back gate.

“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” She shouted out repeatedly, kicking her hooves feebly against the ground, kicking up that same dust she used to defeat her opponents, “let me go!” She yelled at the king, kicking and struggling to break free of the iron grasp of the stallions. Her breathing increased as she let out another yell, the gate starting to close before her very eyes, the last image in her mind was the king’s smirk watching her being dragged away back to her cell, back to the cold, wet cell from where they captured her from, back to hell.

The fire flickered illuminating the center of the encampment, hundreds of camps spread along the coastline, each one with a din of noises emanating from them. Small campfires sprung around everywhere, leaving an invisible trail of smoke through the dark night sky, only a few destitute stars peppered it, even the moon was hardly visible, only a sliver of it floating like an ornament.

The largest hut in particular was exuding an immense amount of noise, it was filled with what had to be a hundred stallion, accompanied by a little more than fifty mares all of which were seated at four separate wooden tables. They were all either drinking or eating, sharing stories and laughing. Each one relieved they were on dry land and not the billowing sea.

Just outside of the massive hut, stood Princess Twilight the wind still blowing against her mane as she looked along the hundreds of tents that sprung up along the shore. She bore the expression of endless worry, of fatigue, of fear when no being was around her, when she could truly show how terrified she was.

“Princess!” She heard a call just behind her, she glanced back and saw her high general trotting up next to her, joining her in looking at the soldiers she commanded. “I heard you wanted to speak?” He asked, knowing the answer.

She nodded and began, a bit quietly, “Yes… I did. There’s…” She trailed off and looked down at dead grass. Her expression changed from worry, to sadness.

“My princess…” He began, “you don’t need to shroud your personality from me, I am not only your high general, I am the one you can rely on.” He said calmly. She looked up at him, and into his light blue eyes, and gave a gentle nod.

“I know, believe me, I know.” She replied giving a quiet sigh.

“Then what is the problem Twilight, my princess?” He asked.

“I…” She exhaled and tried again, “I can’t do this Turner, I just can’t. There are sev- six thousand soldiers out there, I’ve lost the one friend I had left… I don’t know what to do.” She said before shutting her eyes, as if she was holding back tears.

“Yes. You. Can.” He replied, “You can do this Twilight, we all know you can, we have soldiers down there praising your name, exclaiming how they would not trade their princess for anything in the world. They will give their life for you… that I know for certain.”

“I want to believe that, but I can’t. Ever since Celestia gave me these wings Equestria has been collapsing.”

“Not by your doing Twilight! She needed someone else, another pony she can rely on.”

“But why? I didn’t ask for any of this! If I was back in ponyville, in my library, with my books, and my friends. None of this would have happened.”

“Twilight… Princess…” He began before getting cut off.

“Don’t call me that, not when we are alone.” She replied briskly.

“Twilight, if you weren’t one of the princesses you wouldn’t HAVE your library anymore! You know damn well the toll Luna’s departure took on all the citizens!”

“Who do you think had the…. Had the fucking IDEA to even go to this forsaken place?” Twilight raised her voice and then paced herself, looking back down at the ground.

Her high commander just looked at her and nodded, “you did… you needed a way to save Equestria, you had no choice. Celestia…” He stopped himself and then began again, “not everyone has the privilege of being a unicorn Twilight, if you saw… if you really saw the situation the earth ponies were in outside the walls of Canterlot you would know that the decision you made was the right one.”

Twilight looked up at him once more and gave a weak half-smile, “Go now, get something in your stomach, we have a long day tomorrow.”

He nodded and began trotting off to the biggest and loudest of the tents, as the princess began looking out at the sky.

High general Turner was greeted with numerous stallions in an absurd drunken stupor, some trying to aggressively get with the equally drunk mares, while the others were sitting around telling jokes or trying to sleep on the hardwood table. Turner eyed for open seats, and noticed a nice seat at the end of the table to the very right, he trotted over avoiding the passed out ponies and the ones either messing around with the passed out ponies or the ones laughing at the ones messing around with the passed out ponies.

He took a seat and scanned his table, the stallions closest to him he knew fairly well, there was Lighthoof, the dark yellow one with a shining black mane, there was Lance Sky, the taller, handsome stallion, his coat was a light blue with a darker blue mane. Finally, sitting to his left, a completely hammered stallion, his mane was a dark orange frilly mess, his coat baige, he went by the name Marble Charge.

“Guess who?” Marble uttered, almost slurring those two simple words, the other two gave a light chuckle before Lighthoof spoke up, “finally detached from princess I’macunt?” The other two burst out laughing while Turner looked at them carefully admiring their foolishness. “Oh common,” Lighthoof began again, “we know why you’re doing it ya bastard.” Lance just smirked and took a sip of his beverage and nodded.

“Oh yeah?” Turner leaned in, “and why’s that you bunch of shitfaced pricks?” He said laughing at their idiocy.

Marble leaned in and began struggling to get the first few syllables of whatever he was trying to say out of his mouth, Lance hit the table with his hoof lightly shaking the mugs next to him, “can someone get Marble to stop speaking for the night? If I wanted to hear some grown ponies act like newborns I’d sit in at a Canterlot council meeting!” He leaned back and began laughing on his stool, the other two laughed along. Marble surely had no idea what Lance was talking about.

Turner chuckled as well and asked again, “Since Marble is going all ‘High council’ on us how about one of you assholes tells me?”

“Aren’t you part of the high council now too there pretty guy?” One of the ponies in front of them pitched in, as the rest laughed.

“Me?” Turner said sarcastically.

“Yeah! But you can’t fool us! No… no no no, you cannot!” Lighthoof said.

Lance nodded and slightly leaned over to Turner, “don’t kid us, we know you just want to get some of that royal ass.” He chuckled and hit his hoof playfully on Turner’s shoulder.

Turner cocked his head, but still said nothing. Lighthoof pitched in once more time, “You can’t honestly say you don’t want to hit that, I mean damn!” The three roared with laughter, “Yeah, I remember that bitch at her ‘hey look at me, I got wings n’ shit’ parade, I swear she was the most nervous little cunt I’ve ever seen!” Lance said looking at Turner who was smirking at them. “I swear,” Lance began once more, “the way she is now… If she carried some of that attitude into bed whoever the lucky bastard is that gets to shove his prick into her will be the happiest fucker alive!” Marble groaned in approval and lifted his head lightly off the wooden table, a string of saliva coming out of the corner of his mouth.

“Fuckin’ a Turner, you should come down here to the slums more often, and maybe you could sit through one of Marbles fucked up fantasies about her!” Lighthoof exclaimed.

“Maybe I will.” Turner finally replied signaling one of the mares to bring him a drink.

“There’s our friend!” Lance said laughing as he patted Turner on the back once more, “but really… you never… not once thought about tapping that purple ass?”

“Or wait!” Lighthoof hit the table, “maybe little Turner here already got some!” Lance and Lighthoof stared at Turner while Marble, who was now looking up at the ceiling uttered, “hi Turner…” Before almost collapsing backwards.

Turner shook his head, “no, that’s not why I do it.” He said leaning in, “have any of you ever heard the tale of the bear and the hummingbird?”

The two that still had control over their bodily functions leaned in curiously, both of them shaking their heads.

Turner nodded, “Well… would you like to hear it?” He asked.

“What is it? Some dumb fuckin’ fillies tale?” Lighthoof asked.

Turner chuckled and began, “There was once a hummingbird living in some woods, however, these woods weren’t like any ordinary woods you see around the world, they were dying. The trees didn’t bear fruit, even the grass was no longer green. All the animals in the kingdom went to go find another forest, one with better supply of food. But before they went, they assigned the hummingbird a mission, they told her that she needs to stay in this forest and see if it springs back to life again. The hummingbird had no choice… if she left they would not accept the hummingbird’s company, she’d be alone. She was left in this forest, with only the meanest of animals around her, the foxes, the hounds, and wolfs. So one hungry day the hummingbird gets trapped by a group of wild animals, they are preparing to feast on her, to devour her whole. However, a loud roar is heard behind them, a bear, quadruple any of the animals size runs in and saves the hummingbird. Instead of eating her, the bear saves her, in return, the hummingbird offers to fly over the forest and tell the bear where he can find the best food. The bear agrees, in return, he will protect her. So for days, the bear and the hummingbird search the forest, the bear protecting the hummingbird, and the hummingbird telling the bear where to climb, or where to dig. After the bear is full, and the hummingbird feels safe, the bear tells the hummingbird.

‘Miss Hummingbird, do you fancy to leave this forest and go search for a better one with me?’ The hummingbird replied, ‘Why of course mister bear! That sounds wonderful, you will protect me, and I will find you food.’ The bear asks one more question, ‘If you had to go somewhere, and disobey the animals that told you to stay here, where would you go?’ The hummingbird smiled, her beak open happily, ‘well I know a perfect place those animals will never look! Just south of here there is a wonderful place brimming with life and food!’ The hummingbird trusts the bear, so the bear agrees to go with her.

However, the bear wants the food for himself, the bear doesn’t care about the hummingbird, now that he knows the places location, he can take the animals he scared off with him, the bear… the bear is a carnivore.”

Turner leans slightly back, “The bear snaps the hummingbirds neck, he doesn’t even bother to eat her, he has what he needs.”

An eerie silence filled the room, as if the deafening sound of the drunken stallions was no longer present, the two looked at each other, Lighthoof burst out laughing at the story mentioning how the hummingbird is a dumb bitch for ever trusting a bear, while Lance stares quizzically at Turner.

“Why did you tell us this, Turner?” He asks.

Turner gets up from his seat and walks behind Lance and whispers, “because the only thing you’ll remember tomorrow is that high general turner came to visit you.” He smirked and began walking out of the dining room, Lance looked at him and began giving a slight smile and looking at the rest of the inebriated stallion near him.