The War of Thrones

Silver Shill stood atop the Crystal Wall. His view was magnificent. It was truly a sight few were unfortunate enough to see. The light grey pony watched over miles and miles of snow covered land abounding with deep, untamed forests and ancient mountains that spread as far as the eye could see.

More often than not a pony of Equestria knew of the Crystal Wall. They will have heard stories of how wondrously tall the tonnes of clear crystal stacked, reaching far higher than the clouds, maybe even piercing the sky itself. Well, the Lunar Guard made sure to quell those rumours. Mist and cloud may have often gathered around the Wall, but it did not, in fact, pierce the sky.

Those who had no knowledge of the structure asked how one could fly so high in order to see so far. The Guards simply told them they did not fly. Though the Crystal Wall was the highest structure in Equestria, a marvel few could believe lest they see it for themselves, the Guards still used means other than flight to travel up and down it.

It would be a rare occurrence even for birds to fly that far up, and less so for anything bigger. Those Pegasi stupid and daring enough to take off from the chilling reaches of the Wall had been known to freeze within minutes. Their wings stiffened, their blood ran cold, and they would plummet many hundreds of metres to an icy grave.

For two years Silver Shill had endured the biting winds which roared. Once upon a time he had feared heights, before when he was a simple fraud who aided certain tricksters in selling false goods. When they fled from justice they made sure to leave him in the dust, just to be sure they would have enough time to get away.

When he first arrived at Castle Jet his jaw fell flat on the snowy ground. ‘You’ll be up there most of your life,’ the Lord Commander had informed him with a pat on the back, as if it were some comfort. Now he often contemplated leaping off the Wall to end his suffering.

His comrades sometimes found him as still as the hills of ice that perked North of the Wall after hours of staring out into the silent world beyond. His thick, black fur cloak did nothing to prevent the winds from nipping his coat while he stood watch, and his dark purple armour, matching the colour of Princess Luna, gave him no protection. Rather it froze like every other forsaken thing in the North, leaving him afraid to budge an inch should his coat press against the raw metal. The only thing a pony could do to keep even remotely warm was to rest as close to a fire as possible, though be careful not to lean too far into the flames.

Burns were a common injury among the Lunar Guard. The cold numbed the leg so much one could not feel when the fire melted away the coat. It was only when another smelled the stench of cooked pony that they would realise and cry out for aid. It would be a long ride down before they could reach the Maester, and even he sometimes couldn’t do much, depending on the burn. His blind eyes could not recognise the severity of wounds.

Silver Shill thought back over his two years at the Crystal Wall. Shit food, shitter beds, and shittier jobs; that’s all he could sum up the experience as. Serving as a steward felt worthless. How could he claim that he defended the free people of Equestria when he spent his time emptying shit from a bucket and roasting scraggy corn on the cob over a mildly warm fire?

Nopony he knew had even seen any of the dangerous beasts the Northerners seemed to constantly rave about. No Timberwolves, no fierce mountain cats, and absolutely no sign of the legendary ‘Changeling Hordes’ that had apparently been awakening over the years. Even those Griffons who managed to climb the Wall were the smallest of threats, many too deprived of food, drink and sleep to put up a good fight.

Well, that was it. Time for Silver Shill to command his own life, instead of allowing charlatans or grumpy old ponies order him around for the remainder of his days.

He snapped out of his lull and marched along the slippery Crystal Wall. A thousand years worth of ice had set on every surface and covered every crevice of the Wall, thickening it to the point not even a hundred master armour smiths could reproduce.

A stone faced Lunar Guard peered at Shill as he approached the hot air balloon, the sole means of getting up or down the Wall. It was a ragged thing. The basket crunched at the hooves of those who climbed in and the original fabric of the balloon was now covered in patchwork, though, quite admirably, it stayed true to the colour of the Lunar Guard and remained as black as night.

Shill hopped into the transport and nodded at Rivet, whose hazel eyes never left him. Rivet joined him and guided the balloon downwards. A rough circle of stiff ropes stretched the height of the Wall, surrounding the balloon so it could never stray off course. Shill always hated when the balloon would volley off the ropes. The jolt would always send him sideways and leaning over the basket, leaving him staring at a long and bitter fall to his death.

This time they were fortunate as the winds were calm on their side of the Wall. This night was particularly dark as there was no moon to light their way, but Shill could still just make out the three courtyards of Castle Jet. The third soon disappeared from view however, as it laid on the outside of the castle wall.

It was the training ground the new recruits practised their sword work on. Beside it swayed a rickety barracks, the recruits’ inadequate housing where they could get barely any sleep due to the wide cracks that let in unbearable drafts during the night. The Master of Arms couldn’t care less, as long as they were awake on time for morning training.

The other two courtyards sat within the castle walls, right in the middle of the Castle, protected from the devastating winds that blew day in day out. The hot air balloon set itself down with little trouble just behind the courtyard, within throwing distance of the Blue Tunnel.

Rivet pushed open the basket door with a long creak, his eyes still fixed on Shill. Feeling the gaze he glanced back at the toffee coated Earth pony, but his nervous nature glistened through with a single drop of sweat sliding down his forehead. He forced a smile in thanks for the ride down and hurried on his way. Rivet grunted, knowing his manners were nothing more than a charade.

A few of the Lunar Guard went about their business within the broken walls of Castle Jet, though many had retired to their quarters for sleep or to the mess hall for food. Only a face could distinct one pony from another, for they all wore the same thick coats of black and hunched their shoulders against the cold as they walked.

Nopony stopped to greet Shill as he strode across the courtyard, and then momentarily crunched his hooves against the crisp road that stretched West to East along the interior of the castle. He approached the second courtyard, empty and clear and silent. He could bet the same couldn’t be said in the morning. All he would hear were the aggressive growls of reformed rapists and the shouts of pain from useless farmfoals until noon, when lunch was served.

To the left of the courtyard he found the Lord Commander’s building, an impending structure with two small towers on either side. He stomped up the creaky wooden stairs, making sure each hoof was planting to ensure he didn’t slip over. But such a worry was petty in his eyes.

His mind was set on one thing only: To find a way out of the Lunar Guard.

He knew the Lord Commander was ill. In fact, he had been for the last twenty years. But now his ailments and injuries had finally decided to punish him to their fullest extent, leaving him bedridden and lame. Therefore Shill hoped the Lord Commander would be dazed from Milk of the Poppy, a numbing, pain killing medicine that also caused the mind to wander and make decisions it wouldn’t otherwise make.

He ducked inside the walls of the Lord Commander’s quarters and shut the door silently behind him. Though the building was named for the Lord Commander there were a great many rooms where the officers such as the Master of Arms, First Ranger, First Builder and First Steward slept. He knew most of them rarely visited their rooms though, as there was always work to be done on the Wall, so he did not fear drifting into one of their rooms by mistake and waking them.

Shill rubbed back his cobalt mane, clearing off the small specks of snow while flattening it between his ears. He embraced the inside as if it were the musky, humid innards of a brothel. In reality the air was only slightly warmer on the inside, but to a pony fresh from atop the Crystal Wall it felt like heaven.

Nevertheless, Silver Shill could not be distracted now. The Lord Commander’s room was near, he knew. Just down the hall, then a left and up a few stairs. Here we go.

He crept along the wood floor as lightly as he could, careful not to allow a single loose plank to give away his position. He made it to the corner and peeked to see if the stairs were clear. The stairs awaited him three doors down, free from any obstacle. Or so he thought.

The door closest to him slid open. He knew he was caught. The distance from him to the door was too far a distance to make in time. Instead he stayed still and edged his back against the wall.

A pony’s hooves dragged out of the room, scraping along the floor with ever step. From the room emerged Maester Star, a blind old pony with a beard which tickled the ground beneath his long, white face. The Maester did not notice Silver Shill, to his relief. No, somehow the Maester sensed no presence as he shuffled by Silver Shill, his long black robe brushing against Shill’s stomach.

He remained in his spot until the Maester’s left the premises and the rotten wood door was closed once again. With a breath of relief he continued on, using only the tips of his hooves with each step.

Just as he reached the small flight of stairs a sudden breeze rushed through. The wind pushed open the third door along the hall, which was now right next to Shill, and revealed the Master at Arms, Caballeron, hugging his sword as he slept.

Shill took a gamble. It was a stupid gamble, but he took it anyway. He snuck up to the open door, sweating more than he had in the last two years out of pure fear of waking Caballeron. He was the most intimidating, cruel and heartless bastard to ever serve in the Lunar Guard. But Shill couldn’t risk him waking from the wind or light.

He reached into the room and recovered the swinging door. As he yanked it back against the wind a shiver ran up his spine. A movement darted by his flank, swishing his tail aside. He managed to squeeze shut Caballeron’s door and turn around before he let out a breathless scream, equal to the screech of boiling water.

He looked right. Nothing. He looked left. Still nothing, just the bare, bland stairs. Stop it now! Just get up those stairs and get this ordeal over with!

Silver Shill felt like an ant to an anthill as he looked up at the Lord Commander’s door. It was a hulking piece of wood, towering every other door in the castle. There was no gap above or beneath it to allow light or wind through, a change made recently by Maester Star. The Maester had specifically ordered that no breeze may pass over the Lord Commander’s sick body, so the builders of the Lunar Guard constructed a slightly larger door to fill in the frame.

Usually a Guard would need to force it open and shove as it dragged along the abrasive, scratchy, and unpolished wooden floor. This time however Shill found he did not need to use his strength, as the doorway was already half open.

He remained outside the room, looking in from the top step. A shadow flickered against the wall as the candlelight wobbled. He feared the Lord Commander was well enough to walk, meaning he may not have been drowsy from the Maester’s medicine.

With a huge gulp, the biggest he thought he’d ever taken, Silver Shill cautiously placed one hoof into the room. Before fully entering, he knocked twice.

There was no answer.

He knocked once more.

He heard a muffled cry.

Silver Shill burst into the room ready for action, but the sight he beheld caused all of his thoughts from the past hour to vanish. Thoughts of fear and darkness drowned his mind, for what Silver Shill witnessed was the spawn of nightmares. This time he did scream.

It was a monster blacker than dark itself, with wings as clear as glass. The creature drove a rusty blade into the Lord Commander with its contorted leg, full of holes like a piece of driftwood infested with termites. It punctured his chest over and over again without a slither of remorse, even as his blood spewed out and soaked its muzzle.

Shill could do nothing but shiver. This demon was beyond his reckoning. Never did he once think the legends told truths. But, as the monster finished its task and lifted its fanged face to meet the mortified eyes of Silver Shill, he knew more than just snow and Griffon’s lurked North of the Wall.

The Changelings were not a mere myth. Its frosty blue eyes made sure he would never forget it, even till his final breath.

It hissed at Shill with a forked tongue and jerked its blade from the Lord Commander’s corpse. It lumbered over to him, dragging its hooves through the pool of blood by the bed. Its blade dripped sticky red, with threads of blood dangling down and sticking to its front legs.

For a moment Shill wondered why the creature did not simply end him instead of giving him time to act. Perhaps Shill really did look like a coward, a pony that truly nopony could fear, just as he had always thought.

No. This is not my end. As a surge of adrenaline streamed through Silver Shill’s body and he mustered the bravery to draw his sword in defence.

Shill came to that very room to end his watch, not his life.

In an instant the monster was upon him. Shill swung his blade wildly and sliced into its side, and couldn’t help but grin at his success. However, he soon realised that the swing had left his neck bare, making it the perfect target for the Changeling. All it needed to do was bring down its dagger and cut into his throat.

He shut his eyes, not wishing to see it coming.

For once, Shill found himself fortunate. His eyes peeked open to see the webbed tail of the creature leaving the room. He heard shouts from outside. Somepony called after the creature. The next thing he knew Star Hunter, a deep blue pony and one of his few friends, was lifting him from the ground.

“Silver Shill!” Star Hunter shouted in a panic, probably torn between tending his friend or the Lord Commander. “Silver Shill!” He said a second time, this time shaking the broken Earth pony out of his daze. Silver Shill’s eyes met Star Hunter’s. All Hunter could see was horror. “What was it?”

Silver Shill trembled with each breath. “Ch-Changeling.”

Suddenly another Lunar Guard stomped into the room. His coat was a mix of grey and brown, and his black mane was slicked back in a style far better than Shill’s, however hid older age shone through with splatters of grey lining his tail. He looked to the body of the Lord Commander with wide eyes. He rubbed his thick stubble and stared at Silver Shill, who recognised him. It was the Master at Arms.

“What did this, boy?” Caballeron said with a deep tone, almost grunting. When Silver Shill could not bring himself to answer he grasped the cuff of his coat with force. “I heard you scream, Shit Shill, and we don’t scream at Griffons. Now answer me! What did this?”

Silver Shill cowered away from him but thankfully found his breath. “Changeling,” he said, quickly and bluntly.

Star Hunter stepped forward in an effort to lessen the attention on Shill. “Caballeron, sir, maybe I should ride south to inform the lord of House Rock of this news?” He was a well spoken stallion, tutored by his father from a young age; before he was caught stealing.

Caballaron considered this option. The ponies waiting outside told him a strange being fled the room moments before their arrival, so Shill’s Changeling explanation could be true. But at the same time Changelings had not been seen for hundreds of years. If they were returning, he was sure he’d be the first to know.

“No, Star Hunter, you stay and help clean up this mess,” he ordered. Star Hunter sighed under his breath, but got straight on with it. Meanwhile Caballeron jabbed Shill in the chest to gain his attention. “Listen closely, boy. Only you saw what happened, so you gallop south to Winterneigh as fast as your skinny grey legs will take you and tell Lord Igneous Rock exactly what you saw. Do you hear me? Exactly.”

Shill nodded his head for a good ten seconds before following Caballeron’s commands. He bolted out of Castle Jet and into the cold night. The snow picked up as he galloped, sticking into his eyes and nose and mane.

It took him a few miles, but he soon realised he had been let free from the claws of the Lunar Guard. Somehow, his ambition had been fulfilled, all because of a Changeling!

He could go where he wished!