Graceless Discharge

by DynamicEquilibrium115

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Original Character
Length: 1923

One royal soldier and his fight to do the 'right' thing.

A member of the royal guard fights to protect the honor of the princess. Such loyalty can come with a price.

Published 2014-07-29 02:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-29 02:10:03 UTC

Reconnaissance

Reconnaissance

The short winter twilight faded into night. Canterlot lay enveloped by darkness but for the dim light of the moon that shone through the fleecy clouds, casting an ominous glow over the abandoned streets. Around the royal courtyards the roar of powerful sorcery rang out. Every so often the silence of night would be shattered by the blasts of combat magic. Explosions burst in the sky creating a brilliant chrysanthemum of light like an intense firework display. Royalists and rebels were waging civil war.

It was not long after the banishment of Luna that ponies saw the opportunity to call for a constitutional monarchy. A single ruling princess was much more easily overthrown than two and many saw an opportunity they couldn’t pass up. It had progressed quickly from small protests to nearly a full scale revolution.

On a rooftop not far from the royal palace, a Royalist unicorn lay hidden. The face of this soldier was calm and gave the impression of incredible patience but his eyes held the fiery gleam of reckless determination. They were confident and certain, the eyes of a soldier who follows orders well. Beside him lay a pack full of short thin spears with blunted tips that when accelerated by a soldier’s magic, would strike an enemy with the potential to cause major injury but not kill outright. The range was excellent but accuracy was severely limited. Only with a skilled operator could it be an effective tool, and there were no doubts as to the skill of their operator.

He was hungrily wolfing down a standard pack of army rations, nutritious but utterly tasteless. Only the addition of a strong alcoholic drink, which he produced promptly from his ammo pack, would make the meal worthwhile. He took a quick drink to wash down the rations and returned the flask of liquor to his pack. He paused for a moment, considering whether he should risk a rejuvenation spell. It would be dangerous, the glow of magic was easily seen in the darkness and was a dead giveaway but he felt weary and could use the boost. He decided to risk it.

His horn illuminated briefly and a soothing wave of energy passed over him. Almost immediately after, a bolt of energy impacted the parapet of the roof leaving a deep mark on the thick stone. The unicorn ceased the spell and crawled away to the right.
Cautiously he raised his head over the parapet of the roof and peered out. He saw a flash and another bolt seared past singeing his helmet. He dropped immediately, the unicorn had seen the flash and knew where his nemesis was hiding. He rolled over behind a rear chimney stack and drew himself up till his eyes were on level with the rooftop. Across the street there was a dim outline of the opposite house but nothing else. His enemy was undercover and likely able to detect a magical signature, essentially a biological radar sensitized to magic. And a massive advantage.

Suddenly an armored vehicle rattled up the street and advanced slowly until it was a mere eighty yards off the unicorn’s position. His heart began beating faster, it was an enemy carriage. He recognized the crude retrofitting of iron wheels and rusted plating across the exterior. Two oxen, oblivious to everything but their owner’s command, pulled it forward. A simple armor set rested on their bodies with steel rods connecting them to the carriage. A clunky machine of limited effective use overall, but for the desperate rebels it had to suffice. The unicorn could hear the heavy breaths of the oxen. He wanted to attack but on his own steam it was unlikely he could penetrate the tough outer layer that covered that monstrosity.

From a nearby alley came an old mare, her body layered with tattered cloth. She began speaking into the carriage and pointed out the unicorn’s position. An informer.

From the side of the carriage a scrap of metal slowly went up, a Pegasus’s head and wings appeared along with a hoof carrying some sort of device with a fuse. The unicorn raised a spear and telepathically thrust it at the enemy. The Pegasus fell heavily onto the street. The mare turned to run, another spear hurtled towards her. The mare whirled round and fell with a shriek into the gutter.
Just then a shot rang out and the unicorn was knocked backwards as a powerful force impacted the side of his helmet. He fell flat on his back while a symphony of ringing noises played inside his head at a fortissimo. “I’m hit,” he thought, fighting to resist passing out while a surge of energy pulsed all over his body. His enemy was obviously a skilled sorcerer judging by the force of impact and residual effects rendering him half-paralyzed and barely conscious. Any effort made on his part to overcome the spell seemed futile. The best possible comparison seemed to be moving a mountain, perhaps more trying than even that.

The unicorn tried to remember his training, what had it taught him? He thought about his allies, how would they fare under such circumstances? One thing was absolute, they would never crack under pressure, regardless of pain or difficulty. The royal army would never stand for such feebleness, and he represented not only them but the entire monarchy. Why had he joined? He thought of his brother. Everything there was to know about his brother was that of strength, loyalty and kindness. It was that proud soldier which compelled him to enlist and fight to defend the honor of the princess
.
Quickly he began dispersing his own magic across his body to nullify the foreign energy. He lifted himself up and removed his helmet with shaking hooves. From his pack he retrieved a small canister of pills and popped one into his mouth biting down hard. A few moments after and the unicorn had regained most conscious control with one final paroxysm of pain sweeping through him. Then he lay still against the parapet and closed his eyes, his breathing and heart rate decreased slowly.

On the street below there was not a sound to be heard, all was calm. The armored carriage had hastily retreated down the street with its former occupant still crumpled on the ground. The mare’s corpse still lay in the gutter.

The unicorn sat there for a long time gathering focus and formulating a plan. It was imperative that dawn not find him injured on the roof. The enemy unicorn covered all of his escape routes. He would have to kill that unicorn. Blunt tip spears would not work. Too much time and effort went into flinging those sticks just to injure his enemy who could probably catch them in midair if not blast him to royal smithereens beforehoof. He had a limited amount of time to escape. Then he thought of a strategy.

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a metal file, something used to smooth out rough edges in his armor. Then, he took a spear from his pack and began filing the rear wooden end. The spear’s relatively low thickness allowed the unicorn to file it down to a needle like point, perfect for piercing. Taking another spear, he placed his helmet on the metal end and raised it slowly over the parapet, ensuring its visibility from the opposite side of the street.

A response came about almost instantly, and the helmet was struck with sorcery. The unicorn allowed the helmet to spin wildly off the end of the spear and down to the street. It hit the ground with a loud clang. The unicorn slanted the spear forwards and dropped a hoof over the roof letting it hang there limply. After a few moments he let the spear slide out of his reach and tumble to the street. Then he sank to the roof, dragging his hoof with him.

Scrambling to get upright, he peered down from the corner of the rooftop. His plan had succeeded. The other unicorn had seen the helmet and spear drop, thinking to have killed that pony. He was slowly trotting out to inspect the helmet, his body clearly silhouetted against the light of the moon.

The Royalist cracked a smirk of utmost delectation and raised his sharpened wooden spear. At a distance of fifty yards it was by no means a difficult shot but he still felt off balance and his head pained like a thousand demons. Forcing himself to concentrate, the unicorn focused on hitting and killing his enemy. Trembling with anticipation, he sent magic flowing through the spear. He licked his lips and telepathically locked onto his target. Then he released the energy.

The spear sailed seamlessly through the air, an unrelenting sensation of pain rocked his head at the outburst. Then when the feeling passed he looked over the edge of the parapet and uttered a cry of joy. His enemy had been hit and was staggering around in his death agony. He tried to keep his footing but with a spear through his neck it seemed quite difficult. He made several erratic noises before finally collapsing on the side of the road.

The unicorn’s smirk slowly faded and he shuddered at the sight of his dead opposition. His rapture and lust for battle died within and he was struck hard with contrition. Weakened by his wound and the atmosphere of conflict and hiding out on the rooftops, he could not bring himself to face reality and revolted in the sight of his crumpled enemy. He began to sweat and mumble to himself, cursing the war, himself and everyone else.

The unicorn began shaking with anger and without a second thought, turned around and bucked the stone parapet with whatever strength he had left. The recoil of pain shocked him back to his senses. The adrenaline subsided and his nerves steadied. The fog of fear dispersed from within his head and he laughed. The night was his. The unicorn retrieved his alcoholic flask and emptied it. He felt reckless under the spirit’s influence, it pacified him to some extent.

He decided to leave the rooftop and search for his commanding officer to report. All around him was quiet and the street below offered little danger. He descended the structure through the skylight and came out on street level.

When the unicorn looked out across the street, a sudden curiosity as to his enemy’s identity nagged at him like an itch. He thought his opponent to be a skilled caster and good shot, whoever he may be. Perhaps they knew each other, or maybe he had been in the army at one point and they had been in the same company. The unicorn decided to risk going over to check.

He glanced from side to side, looking for any potential action. The noises of heavy combat bellowed out from the upper part of the street but around here all was quiet.

The unicorn pushed off his hind legs, dashing across the street. An explosion went off not far behind him and several buildings went up in clouds of dust and rubble. He felt slightly deafened by the noise and was nearly thrown off his hooves, but escaped otherwise untouched. He dove to the ground beside the corpse and lay still. The crumbling structures soon settled and all was silent once more.

Then the unicorn turned over the dead body and looked into his brother’s face.