Legionnaires of Equestria

by thatguyvex

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Trixie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Adventure, Gore, Dark, Alternate Universe, Coco Pommel
Length: 124948

Trixie, Blossomforth, and Coco Pommel are drafted into the Legion and must fight to survive their first campaign against viscious ursans and a new, deadly threat to Equestria

Based on Visiden Visidane's Upheaval series, which begins in Breaking Point, this story is non-canon with that story but written as a fan tribute to the series. I highly recommend checking out the canon series if you're a fan of adventure and military exploits.

Equestria is a peaceful realm, but one that has been kept in the dark about the price of that peace. The Heartland, as it is called, has been protected for generations by the Barrier Lands, a realm outside of Equestria that is occupied by ponies who make up a large army known as the Legion, controlled by the brother of the Princesses, Prince Terrato. This Legion has been fighting an ongoing war for centuries against a host of deadly enemy species that would gladly destroy Equestria if not for the Legion's efforts to keep them at bay.

After a series of events leads Twilight Sparkle and her friends to discover all this, the Barrier Lands and the Heartland are reunited, and the peaceful Equestrians told the truth. However this reunification is not entirely smooth and has with it a terrible price of its own; the draft. Equestrains who have never known a day of violence in their lives must now serve in the Legion, whether they want to or not.

Trixie Lulamoon, Blossomforth, and Coco Pommel are three such ponies, drafted into the Legion and sent to the Western Barrier Lands, where the dangerous bear-like race known as the ursans rule a vast realm of mountains and forest. Though their posting at Beartrap Fortress is meant to be a quiet one, out of the way of the main fighting, these three mares suddenly find themselves stuck in the forefront of an unexpected invasion. Ursans gather in numbers not seen in centuries under the rule of a new warchief, and it seems Beartrap Fortress is directly in the path of this new assault.

To make matters worse it seems there is an even deadlier new threat lurking in the shadows behind this invasion, one that could change the very dynamic of the Legion's struggle to protect Equestria.

Can a single company of raw, inexperienced Equestrian draftees make a difference in such a battle? Its time for the Legionnaires of Equestria to find out what they're made of, one way or another.

Published 2014-09-19 02:30:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-10 01:05:08 UTC

Chapter 2: Welcome to the War

Chapter 2: Welcome to the War

The moment Counter Charge had heard the bellowing roar of ursans she forced aside all extraneous thought and immediately went into issuing orders to her Legionnaires. When dealing with ursans there was absolutely no margin for hesitation or error, especially for a commander. A part of her mind was shouting at her that this situation was impossible, that there shouldn’t be ursans this close to Beartrap Fortress, but she told that part of her brain to kindly shut up and let her do her job.

“Squads one through three, form on me! Squads four and five, advance down the road, triple time it! Don’t let any of the draftee’s break and don’t leave any of them behind! Alpine, I’m counting on you!”

Alpine, the pegasus in charge of the fifth squad in Counter Charge’s platoon gave a smart salute and one of her customary cocksure grins before the dark, forest green mare flitted away with her aerial squad over the scared confused Equestrians. Alpine called out with her clear, loud voice, sounding a lot more steady than Counter Charge felt. She knew she could count on Alpine to keep her it together.

“Alright kiddies, get moving! Quick now or you’re gonna be bear chow!”

While the Equestrians began to move, the fear palpable among them slowing the column, Counter Charge double checked to make sure squad six’s unicorns were still with the formation. There weren't enough unicorns in the squad to form a proper spell array against the ursans, at least not while split up among the Heartlander unicorns. Without that heavy firepower the unicorns would only be able to slow the ursans down, but that might be enough to give Counter Charge and her earth pony squads enough time to intercept, bringing their heavy crossbows and claymores into the fray.

Her squads formed up around her, fifteen ponies not including herself, all stout earth ponies. The ponies in her personal squad, squad one, were armed with the long claymore blades designed for piercing thick ursan hide. Squads two and three had the thick leather harnesses that mounted the huge anti-ursan crossbows with barbed bolts specifically crafted to punch through thick armor and hide. Counter Charge was just drawing her own claymore with another chorus of roars sounding from the south portion of the forest. That surprised Counter Charge. The report had placed the ursan raiders to the northwest! Why were the bears showing up from the south!? She didn’t question it for long, instead gritting her teeth and issuing orders to her squads.

“South flank, double time!”

Her squads were at the head of the column, and as Counter Charge led her troops around to the southern edge of the road, giving way for the column of Equestrian draftee’s to start getting past her, she saw the ursans break from the forest and charge down a short hill towards the road and the Equestrian draftee’s column.

Counter Charge had served on the Western front of the Barrier Lands for nearly five years, but never once had the charge of an ursan force failed to fill her with equal parts awe and dread. She’d heard tales from fellow Legionnaires of the horrors of fighting the ophidian snakes in the southern jungles, and the terrifying might of the wolven hordes in the north… but those stories paled in her mind to the raw ferocity of a force of ursan warriors charging straight at you.

The beasts barreled out of the woods, snapping low hanging branches from the pine trees like so many thin toothpicks. Each one was a towering monstrosity easily twice the height of the biggest earth pony. Bristling fur either a dark brown or pitch black covered their quadruped form’s, bodies thick was muscles so strong that Counter Charge knew a single swipe of their massive paws had the potential to rip a fully armored pony in half.

There were only ten ursans charging out of the woods, but when it came to ursans ten was a deadly force to reckon with. Each one could savage an entire squad of unprepared Legionnaires, and Counter Charge didn’t want to think of what the beasts would do to the untested, barely trained Heartlanders. Blast it all there weren’t supposed to be any ursans in this area! Beartrap Fortress hadn’t had to deal with any serious ursan threats in decades!

Even as Counter Charge brought her squads into line to intercept the charging ursans she heard the terrified screams of many among the Equestrian recruits and her heart sank. She had known the Heartlanders were used to a realm of peace and knew nothing of the violence of war, but she’d hoped they’d hold at least a minute or two. Already she could see panic rippling through the Equestrians like a wave, many of the pegasi taking to the sky and flying away in scattered dashes, while those who were unfortunate enough to lack wings were starting to stampede down the road, breaking formation.

“Keep them together!” Counter Charge bellowed, forcing her voice to its loudest to carry over the roars of the ursans. All she could do now was hope the squads she’d put in charge of the Equestrian’s could make them retreat in an orderly fashion and keep things from turning into a full route.

They’d all be dead in that case.

“Squads, full charge! For the Legion! For Equestria!”

It was the best she could manage to shout while drawing her claymore and lowering her head as she barreled towards the oncoming ursans. Squads one, two, and three formed a V-shaped wedge around her, pounding down the side of the road along the south flank. She knew when they got in range squads two and three would peel off and set up a firing line, and trusted those squads to do their job without hitting her and her claymore squad.

Meanwhile the bulk of the Equestrians were still a near panicking mass trying to get away, but fortunately instead of breaking and dashing in all directions the ones on the ground were following orders from the Legion troops placed among their ranks. The earth ponies marched quickly but with drawn weapons, ready to receive the ursan charge with their own claymores, while the ones with crossbows awkwardly went about loading them and firing. The Equestrian’s limited familiarity with the weapons meant few of the bolts hit, but it slowed the ursan charge slightly.

At the same time the unicorns behind the earth ponies began to haphazardly fire off spells.

Most of those spells were weak energy bolts, the most basic attack taught to the new recruits, but there were a few genuine balls of fire and crackles of lightning from the more experienced Legion unicorns. The magic, unfortunately, did little to the ursans, their tough bodies weathering the magical assault with minimal damage. It slowed them some more, but no more than a few seconds.

Strangely Counter Charge saw a burst of green, blue, and purple fireworks flash among the ursans, causing one or two of the hulking brutes to trip over themselves from the blinding lights.

Where had that magic come from? That wasn’t a Legion attack spell, she was certain of that much! Well, she had not time to think on it. Squads two and three fired, their bolts striking with far greater accuracy than the ones fired by the Heartlanders. Huge bolts as long as a pony’s foreleg slammed into the sides of the charing ursans, staggering a few, but not nearly enough. Counter Charge growled, speeding up for the last few moments of of her squad’s headlong gallop. The ursans were dead ahead, their charge hitting the Equestrian draftee column in almost the same instant that Counter Charge’s squad slashed into the ursans from the side.

At that moment all became chaos and Counter Charge could only focus on fighting for her life.

Terror unlike any she had known since facing the Ursa Minor in Ponyville gripped Trixie’s heart like the cold, wooden maw of a timberwolf.

She’d faced such creatures, timberwolves, once or twice in her travels across Equestria. They usually ran off with a few quick pyrotechnic light displays. They were more of a nuisance than true threat.

There was nothing ‘nuisance’ like at all about what was barreling towards Trixie. The massive bear-like beasts were like a clawed tidal wave as it smashed through the trembling line of earth ponies set to meet them. Trixie nearly fainted when she saw one poor mauve colored mare desperately trying to reload the crossbow mounted on her and scream just before an ursan’s jaws clamped over her head. The bear shook his maw, lifting the mare into the air, whose legs were flailing about in helpless, useless fits as blood poured down her body. With a single heavy shake the bear slammed the mare into the ground and her head came off with a sickening rip.

Trixie nearly threw up. The Canterlot stallion next to her did. The Legion mare, the gray unicorn, growled, “Keep firing damn you!”

As if to emphasize her point the gray mare’s horn lit up with magic and from it a crackling bolt of electricity sizzled across the space to slam into the ursan that had killed the mauve earth pony. The lightning arced over the bear’s back, making it shuddered, but hardly slowing it as it reared up on its hind legs, towering over another earth pony who’d come up to slash at it with his sword. This brave stallion’s efforts were rewarded with a sharp swipe of paws that opened his chest like an overripe melon, bone and organs alike spraying out to splatter the cold ground.

The stallion didn’t even get a chance to scream before the ursan slammed down and crushed his already dying body into the dirt.

Every single one of Trixie’s instincts were screaming at her to run. She had to get away from this place, as fast as possible, before she met a similar fate as those poor ponies had just met! She could turn invisible! Slink away under cover. Nopony would notice her!

…but the sight of Blossomforth flying overhead stopped Trixie. Blossomforth was shouting, what Trixie couldn’t hear, but it wasn’t a shout of fear. It was a shout of rage. Blossomforth buzzed overhead and dove in at the ursan that’d killed the mauve colored mare, her spear skipping off the ursan’s head as she thrust at it. It snorted and looked up at the pegasus, rearing up on its hind legs once more. Blossomforth had clearly underestimated the reach of the ursan, as she beat her wings frantically to get away as a paw swung back to swipe at her.

“NO!” Trixie didn’t realize she shouted, or was even acting until she was already in motion, charging at the ursan, her horn lighting up with a purple aura.

She knew no real attack spells, but she’d tried her fireworks earlier and it had managed to daze a couple of these monstrous beasts! Once more she let out a blast of sizzling sparks, little purple, blue, and green contrails that when they reached the ursan detonated in showering flashes of dazzling light.

The ursan roared, shaking its head, and fell to the ground, Blossomforth forgotten in its mind as it shook its head to clear the flashing lights from its eyes.

“The flaming teats was that!?” asked the gray Legion mare, looking at Trixie, “You did that before. Shoot the thing!”

“Trixie doesn’t know attack spells,” said Trixie, hurriedly, her fear returning as she saw the ursan regaining its senses, “You shoot it!”

Blossomforth had flown back towards where Trixie was, hovering in the air as she pointed down the road with her spear, “We have to keep moving! We’ll be left behind!”

Trixie glanced to see that Blossomforth spoke the truth. While the rear end of the Equestrian column was caught up in the fight with the ursans the rest of the column had moved on down the road at a near gallop. Only about twenty Equestrians were busy battling for life and limb against what Trixie estimated was eight or nine of the ursan monsters. A group of Legion soldiers, maybe a little more than a dozen, were now also engaged with the ursans, hitting them from behind. Earth ponies fired those huge crossbows, and Trixie saw the bolts slam into a few of the bear like beasts. It was distracting the ursans somewhat, causing maybe half to turn to face the Legion ponies, but the rest continued to tear into the Equestrtians and Trixie gulped, seeing yet another mare get dragged down by another ursan, her screams of “Help me! No! Please n-” cut short by the chomping maw of the ursan over her throat.

Now Trixie, too, felt a spark of anger push past the ocean of her fear. How dare they!? How dare these things slaughter and kill without remorse or reason!? This wasn’t how ponies were supposed to die! This wasn’t how it was meant to be! Curse them!

That anger flared in her horn, and for pure spite she sent an extra large and explosive set of fireworks onto the ursan that had just killed the pleading mare. The fireworks wouldn’t hurt them, but that one at least wouldn’t be seeing much of anything for awhile, as a huge cacophony of multi-colored fireworks exploded all over its face. Trixie only wished she’d acted faster, maybe she could’ve saved that mare. She also wished she had a spell that could actually hurt these things!

Blossomforth apparently shared Trixie’s anger because she flew at the blinded ursan, which was growling and roaring as it pawed at the ground, blinking its dazed eyes. Blossomforth jabbed with her spear and the head lodged in the ursan’s thick fur just above the neck and Trixie heard Blossomforth let out a sharp curse.

“What does it take to kill one of these things!?” the white pegasus gasped as she fought to free her spear and evaded a swipe from the blinded ursan’s paws. She flew back towards Trixie and the Legion unicorn, looking incredibly frustrated.

“You Heartlanders run,” said the gray Legion unicorn grimly, a fatalistic gleam entering her eyes, “I’ll keep them distracted while you get away.”

The Canterlot stallion, who’d been on the ground shaking this whole time, took no more prompting and with a squeal broke and ran away at a full gallop. Blossomforth frowned, shaking her head in apparent disgust, “We can’t leave you.”

“You can and you are!” shouted the gray mare as she took a few sharp steps forward and from her horn summoned a shard of ice, hurling it at the ursan, which had finally gotten its eyesight back and began to charge at them, “Go!”

Trixie was tempted to do just that and follow the Canterlot stallion, but she found herself looking towards Blossomforth instead. She resolved she wouldn’t leave unless the pegasus mare did too. She was the only one so far she’d even had a chance to speak to and Trixie wasn’t about to leave behind her one… well… not ‘friend’ really, but acquaintance at least!

The ursan barreled in and to the gray Legion mare’s chagrin Blossomforth and Trixie hadn’t budged. Blossomforth, whether in frustration or panic, actually threw her spear like a javelin. The spear hit the ursan in the shoulder and didn’t do more than tickle the monster as it roared, just a few paces from the ponies. The gray Legion mare growled and fired a beam of ice from her horn that hit the ursan squarely in its face and then she dove aside to avoid the charging monster.

Trixie did likewise, throwing herself to the side to just narrowly avoid getting crushed by the ursan as it charged past them. She almost knocked the breath out of herself by rolling poorly, not used to having to throw herself around like this. She scrambled to her hooves as the ursan turned around with speed far greater than a beast its size ought to be capable of, and seeming to sense Trixie being the weaker prey focused its eyes upon her.

Trixie could see its eyes clearly now, two dark soulless pits that promised a gruesome, brutal death. Its fang filled maw opened in a roar that made Trixie reflexively put her hooves to her ears as she scrambled away, unable to get up as the ursan stalked towards her, one paw raising into the air. Trixie saw those claws, imagined them tearing through her flesh, and froze. She knew she ought to do something! She knew she needed to cast a spell, or try to roll away from the fatal blow, but she couldn’t. Her body just wasn’t responding. Seeing death in front of her, she just… froze.

“Trixie!”

Something plummeted into her, shoving her aside in a tangle of hooves and wings. The ursan roared and Trixie heard flesh tear, and a pony shriek in pain, but she was too disoriented for a second to figure out what happened or why she was now on her back with something warm and pony shaped on top o her. Blinking she looked and gasped when she saw Blossomforth laying on top of her. Blossomforth’s face was screwed up in pain as she, too, blinked her eyes open and looked at Trixie.

“Are you… okay?” the pegasus asked and Trixie couldn’t answer for a second because her eyes had strayed down Bossomforth’s body to her hind legs. There it was clear Blossomforth’s right hindleg and flank had taken the worst of the ursan’s claws. Deep red furrows had been rent through Blossomforth’s white coat, blood seeping from the wounds. Trixie’s mind almost went blank, but the growls of the ursan drew her attention. The bear was a half dozen paces away, the gray Legion unicorn bobbing and weaving away from the ursan’s claws as she flung more bolts of electricity at it. The bolts stung at the ursan’s hide, and Trixie could tell it was slowing down, but not nearly enough. The Legion unicorn was getting tired, the ursans’ claws getting closer and closer to hitting her with each passing second.

Trixie carefully worked herself out from under Blossomforth, who groaned in pain and finally noticed her injured leg.

“Oh…oh wow… that’s a lot of blood,” Blossomforth said, gulping, her eyes wide, the pupils going to the size of pinpricks.

“Yes, yes, Trixie sees that!” Trixie said as she worked to take off her leather coat. Ignoring Blossomforth’s question as to what she was doing Trixie took out the dagger she’d been issued and used it to cut one of the belts that held her coat on. With the severed belt she went to Blossomforth and using her magic wrapped the belt around her leg, just above the worst of the claw wounds. Trixie pulled the belt and tied it as tightly as she could.

“Wh-what are you- gah!” Blossomforth grunted as Trixie then levitated the pegasus up and put Blossomforth on her back. Trixie grimaced at the blood soaking over her.

“Tourniquet! Trixie taught herself first aid years ago. Very useful for the road. Now stop talking and hold tight to Trixie!”

“But what about her!?” Blossomforth asked, vaguely pointing at the Legion mare. Trixie’s eyes flinched with hesitation, and then saddened with resolve.

“There’s nothing Trixie can do! We have to run now!”

Blossomforth started to protest but Trixie broke into a gallop, rushing towards where she could still see the main body of the Equestrian draftee’s retreating down the road. She only cast a quick glance at the battle with the ursans as she ran. A few of the ursans were down, but only three or four, and Trixie held little hope for the ponies, Equestrain born or Legion born, who still fought. Shame pierced through her, and she felt like a complete coward…but if she and Blossomforth stayed, they’d die. Blossomforth might die anyway, if Trixie didn’t get her somewhere that had a doctor. The tourniquet would only do so much good with a wound that bad.

“No! Trixie, we have to go back!” Blossomforth said, but the pegasus mare held on, her wound keeping her from must taking to the air. Trixie ignored her, running on, head down, tears in her eyes. Coward or not, she knew to look back, let alone go back, would mean death. And Trixie was not dying today!

Coldiron saw the two Heartlanders flee, the blue unicorn carrying the pegasus on her back. Coldiron spared a quick smile of satisfaction at that. For mere Heartlanders they’d been braver than Coldiron had ever expected to see from the soft, peaceful ponies who lived in Equestria’s interior. More importantly, they were out of the way now, finally obeying orders and running like Coldiron had told them to.

Now she could fight this ursan without worrying about holding back with her magic and accidentally catching those two in the blast. The usan’s black eyes were now shot through with hints of red from the creature’s pure rage as Coldiron continued to quickly work her hooves to duck and dive from its swiping claws and snapping teeth. Coldiron was tiring out and knew she couldn’t keep up the evasion for long, but with the two Equestrians out of the way she no longer needed to. Reaching deep into her reserves of magical strength she summoned up her mightiest cold spell, the element that was her specialty. Her horn flared a bright, snow white color and the ground around her turned icy as the air started to flash freeze.

“Die!” she growled, blasting outward with a wide cone of sub-zero air filled with a swirling storm of conjured ice knives straight into the face of the roaring ursan.

Its pelt was torn and sliced by the razor sharp blades of ice, and its fur began to turn hard and white like miniature icicles from the raw magical cold being blasted into it. Yet still the ursan came on, rearing up and slashing down with both forepaws in a mighty blow that would have ripped Coldiron to pieces had she not backpedaled at just the last moment.

Now thoroughly depleted of her magical strength Coldiron was left breathing ragged breaths as the ursan, badly injured from her spell but still very much alive, growled and charged at her.

So this is it? I die here, she felt oddly resolved to it. She at least would die a proper Legionnaire, in battle against the enemies of ponykind. Perhaps she’d finally get to see her husband again, if the afterlife was kind enough to reunite her with him.

Just before the ursan reached her, however, somepony charged in from the side, long claymore blade skewering straight into the ursan’s neck in a gout of blood. The bear was pushed aside, its charge turning into a sprawling crash as it hit the ground and rolled. The pony who’d impaled the ursan’s neck kept a bitter grip on her sword and went pole vaulting upward as a result, dangling in the air yet doggedly holding on, driving the blade even deeper. With a sudden crack the blade met the neck bone of the ursan and the bear shuddered and died with a whimpering gurgle, its paw giving one last, feeble swipe at a stunned Coldiron that fell short as the ursan breathed its last.

Coldiron, utterly flabbergasted by what had just transpired, stared at the pony that had saved her.

It was one of the Equestrian draftees, clearly. A cutie mark of a stylish purple hat and a red feather graced her off white coat, marking her clearly as a Heartlander, a Chosen. She was an earth pony mare, solidly built but with a slightly dainty air about her that didn’t match the ferocity in her pale blue eyes, eyes that matched her two toned, short blue mane and tail. This mare growled, shoved the sword deeper into the ursan until Coldiron spoke.

“I think its dead, recruit.”

The mare growled a moment longer, then blinked, as if not realizing what she’d been doing, and then she let out what had to have been the most feminine, squeaking ‘Eeep!” that Coldiron had ever heard as she scrambled off the ursan as if it were still alive.

“I-I-I-I… it’s dead? Oh dear, oh no, did I do that?” the mare stammered, staring at the ursan with wide eyes. Coldiron didn’t know what to make of this mare, and took a second to scan her surroundings. She spotted Sergeant Counter Charge and the core of the squads that had charged into the ursan line. It looked like the crossbow squads had gotten caught up in the melee, now, forced to fight with hooves or any scavenged blade they could grab from dead comrades. The ponies fought in a moving wheel, covering each other as they fought off the surviving five ursans. The remaining bears were laying dead, but even five ursans might be enough to finish the remaining Legion ponies and the dozen or so surviving Equestrians who hadn’t managed to get away with the column.

“You need to go rejoin the column, recruit,” Coldiron said, shaking off her fatigue and readying herself to get back into the fray. To her surprise the other mare just gingerly retrieved her sword from the dead ursan.

“I can’t do that miss. My friend is still fighting. Oh, I’m Coco! Coco Pommel! Pleased to meet you.”

Coldiron just blinked at the mare, Coco, for a second, not believing the bizarre friendly yet sheepish smile on the mare’s face. She could smile like that in the middle of a battle!? Was she a madmare?

“Whatever,” Coldiron said, not wanting to argue with a clearly disturbed mare, “Coldiron. Long as you can kill ursans I don’t much care what you decide to do.”

Coco gulped, but at the same time as she looked at the ursans, one of them dragging down a Legion pony with its jaws, Coldiron saw the mare’s eyes suddenly turn narrow, a deadly light entering them. “Those brutes! Those horrible beasts!”

Coco went off charging towards the fight and with a helpless laugh Coldiron followed her, hoping she could manage to dredge up enough magic to keep up with this crazy Equestrian Legionnaire.

Counter Charge ducked under the ursan’s paw, lashing out with a back-swing of her claymore. The thick blade bite into the ursan’s tough hide just below the elbow, severing flesh but not quite able to cut through the beast’s thick bones. It felt like trying to cut down a tree! Counter Charge pulled back, adjusting her hooves to avoid the ursan’s counter attack, its teeth grazing her armor.

Beside her Tower Shield from second squad covered her flank, taking advantage of the ursan’s distraction to get in a slice with his own claymore. A red line was cut along the ursan’s flank but the bear moved with shocking speed, almost as if it’d intentionally exposed itself to draw Tower in, and snapped its jaws out at the stallion. With a sickening crunch the jaws clamped onto Tower Shield’s right foreleg, bending and puncturing the metal greaves and snapping bone with equal ease. Tower Shield grunted, but didn’t scream, gritting his teeth tighter around his blade and shoving it into the ursan’s shoulder.

“Sarge!” he called and Counter Charge knew he was buying her an opening at the cost of his leg. It hadn’t been the first time he’d put himself at risk to provide her an opening like this in a fight over the years they’d served together.

Growling her own anger and snorting steam through her nostrils Counter Charge backed up then charged in, the tip of her claymore acting like a spear as she rammed it into the joint between the bear’s shoulder and neck, one of the few weak points that could be exploited to reach the monster’s heart, if you were skilled enough to get the angle just right. Counter Charge lucked out, feeling her long sword slide deep into flesh, past bones and muscle, and pierce the huge, thudding organ of the ursan’s heart.

It coughed and sputtered a fountain of dark crimson blood from its maw, letting go of Tower Shield, and for a second the beast tried to exact revenge on its killer by slashing at Counter Charge, but she was fast enough to let go of her sword and duck away from the blow. The best tilted over and died with a shuddering growl.

“Nice kill,” Tower Shield said, wincing past the pain from his leg as he grinned at her.

Counter Charge went to retrieve her blade, intending to then check on Tower Shield, but an incredible force slammed into her and for a second the world spun as pain burst into every part of her body. She felt herself hit the hard ground and roll; cracking her head on what had to be a very unfortunately placed rock. Stars burst in her vision and the corners of her sight dimmed, but with a determined grunt she shook herself back to her senses.

She felt a warm trickle of blood down her face and snout, some of the red getting into her eyes, but she could see she was on her stomach, having been knocked a good distance by another ursan that had charged her and hit her with its head like a battering ram. The ursan was now feasting on Tower Shield, its claws and teeth ripping into the Legion stallion with wild abandon, his armor no longer any good against such concentrated ferocity. Counter Charge pushed aside her fury and the stab of sadness at seeing one of her oldest squad members and friends savaged by the ursan and instead pushed herself to her hooves.

Her sword was still stuck in the other one she’d killed but she didn’t care. She’d take the ursan on with her bare hooves if need be!

Before she could charge in, likely to her death, a dozen forms suddenly rained down from the sky, pegasi Legionnaires with long spears, thrusting with the full weight of their bodies to pierce ursan flesh. The monsters roared and tried to turn towards their tormentors, only to get another barrage of spear thrusts from another dozen pegasi coming in from the opposite side. The ursan Counter Charge had been fighting got a spear right in its eye, and as the beast fell Counter Charge looked up, mouth gaping slightly.

“Sorry Sarge, wasn’t fast enough,” said Alpine, the green pegasus mare looking despondent as she hovered in the air with a full platoon of other pegasi Legionnaires. Reinforcements from Beartrap Fortress! Counter Charge hadn’t counted on them arriving at all, let alone so quickly. Had a patrol spotted them?

Alpine’s dark blue eyes looked around, her lips set in a sad frown, “What a mess…”

Counter Charge looked around and to her surprise saw the fight was actually over. The arrival of the pegasus platoon had utterly turned the tide, their spears overwhelming all but one of the remaining ursans, which even now was fleeing into the tree line with a squad of the pegasi in hot pursuit. A wet gurgle from nearby drew Counter Charge’s attention, and in an instant she was by Tower Shield’s side, Alpine landing beside her.

Tower Shield’s steel gray fur was stained red with his blood from dozens of wide, gaping wounds. Most of his belly was ripped open, and Counter Charge didn’t need to be a trained medic to know her friend’s days of fighting next to her were at an end. She put a hoof on the side of his head, keeping her face as calm and strong as she could. She wouldn’t let herself cry in front of her fellow soldier.

Tower Shield’s eyes were hazy, and they flickered towards her, and Counter Charge thought his lips might have turned up in a small smile. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even try to. He just looked at her with that faint smile, and then he was gone.

Alpine lowered her head, heaving out a sigh, “…We should regroup and get a move on soon, Sarge. Might be more of them out here.”

Counter Charge remembered the ursans that had been spotted to the northwest. Yes, there was still danger out here and she had a responsibility to get her troops to the fort. There would be time to ask questions and find out just why there were ursans in this area later. Steadying herself, pushing her emotions deep down until later when she could properly let them out while she was alone, Counter Charge closed Tower Shield’s unseeing eyes and turned to her surviving troops, which to her surprise did consist of a surprising number of surviving Equestrian recruits.

“Okay Legionnaire’s, gather the dead, form up, and let’s get marching!”

Author's Note

Chapter 2, in where our heroines discover that fighting ursans sucks. A lot. I hope it was an appropriately intense scene and look forward to writing more like in the near future. As always thanks for reading and let me know what you think.

Chapter 3: Beartrap Fortress

Chapter 3: Beartrap Fortress

Trixie’s first impressions of what was to be her “home” in these cursed, cold, monster infested lands was of a ball of mud masquerading as a porcupine. Beartrap Fortress was built upon a steep ridge that sloped down towards a wide, fast moving river that was apparently called the Bear Bones. Trixie did not find the pun humourous. A thick, crude bridge of wooden logs and thatched together planks was built across the river, leading to a hard packed dirt road that wound back and forth up the slope to the fortress itself.

When Trixie had heard the word “fortress” she’d imagined some grand structure of high stone walls and vast turreted towers. Instead what she had seen was a mound of massive earthworks, walls of thickly packed dirt and mud reinforced with a palisade of spear-like logs. The walls formed a diamond shape, with an entrance at each tip of the diamond that faced one of the cardinal directions. A gate of tightly bound logs set in deep grooves could be pushed and hauled aside to allow or bar entrance to the fort, assuming one didn’t want to assault the walls, a prospect Trixie imagined would be… problematic.

Not only was the palisade itself covered in thick, sharp spikes shaped from tree trunks, the entire field in front of any side of the wall was a haphazard, muddy field of loose dirt covered in spikes, pitfalls, and of course beartraps. If one didn’t walk up the specifically safe but narrow and hard packed path that twisted back upon itself multiple times before reaching one of the fortress gates one would have to traverse a slog through thick, deep mud that was laden with deadly traps and wooden spikes, and all up a slight incline that would make such a slog even more difficult.

Trixie could only imagine what kind of nightmare it would be to attack the fortress, despite its crude appearance. Then again, after seeing what these Legion ponies fought, she didn’t blame them for focusing on function over form. As much as she still loathed what the Legion had done in drafting her and her fellow Equestrians, and as much as she still couldn’t get the horror of her first battle out of her mind, she realized that these ponies if nothing else had good reason to be as grim as they were.

If she had been born out here and been forced to fight monsters like this her whole life Trixie had to admit that she’d be a tad cranky and dour as well.

It still didn’t excuse the draft, but it softened Trixie’s ire somewhat. Not a lot, but some.

Well, that and her constant worry for Blossomforth. The peagsus mare had been taken off to be treated once the Equestrian column had reached Beartrap Fortress, and Trixie had yet to find out what had happened to Blossomforth. Trixie sincerely hoped the pegasus was okay. That wound on her leg had been… horrible. Trixie’s back had been slick with Blossomforth’s blood by the time they’d gotten to the fortress and Blossomforth, while she’d still been breathing, had passed out and felt very cold to Trixie.

Trixie tired not to think about it, but she kept imagining Blossomforth dead and it left her with a twist in her gut she couldn’t get rid of. Trixie wasn’t used to, well, caring. She usually kept to herself during her travels as a showmare and rarely formed any kind of attachment with another pony. It surprised her how much she was worried about Blossomforth, having really only met the pegasus. Then again, Blossomforth’s wounds were a direct result of saving Trixie’s life. If Trixie hadn’t frozen up during the fight Blossomforth’s life wouldn’t be in danger. It left a bad taste in Trixie’s mouth. She mostly kept her mind busy by examining the interior of the fort while she still had time. She and her fellow Equestrian recruits had been set up in an open area in the southeast side of the fort’s diamond shape, where numerous tents had been set up for them.

The fort’s interior consisted of five sections. The center was another earthen structure, almost like an ant mound, with a smaller wood tower and thick walled wooden building built into and atop the mound, almost like a miniature fort. This apparently was Beartrap Fortress’ headquarters. Around the headquarters was an open area where the roads from all four cardinal directions met in a circle. The other sections were built around these roads like avenues.

The northwest corner held a trio of stout log buildings, like large cabins. One was the field hospital where Blossomforth and the other wounded had been taken. Another was apparently a supply building where most the fort’s food, weapons, and other supplies were kept. The last building, smaller than the others and the closest to the center, was a smithy, with an open forge facing away from the other buildings.

To the southwest a huge H shaped building filled the space. This was the main barracks. From what Trixie had gathered trying to chat with the local Legion ponies each wing of the barracks held space for one of the fort’s intended regiments, though with the fort being understaffed only one of the wings was in use. That made Trixie wonder why she and her fellow recruits weren’t being set up in the barracks, but she couldn’t get any answer on that topic. The middle, connecting part of the H shaped barracks was the mess hall, which had an open area on its north side with a canvas awning over it, to serve those who’d rather eat outside.

The southeast was an open area with the tents Trixie and the other Equestrians were staying in, but that left plenty of open ground still, which apparently was a drill field for training purposes.

The northeast corner was occupied by several smaller cabins, which seemed to be for random use either as extra supply buildings or guest barracks in case the fort had to host additional units in the event Beartrap Fortress was used as a staging ground for additional Legion forces. This area also housed a small series of deeply dug pits lined with spikes pointing inwards. These were apparently prisons on the rare occasion an ursan was ever captured alive. In that event they’d be kept in the pits until a unit arrived to take the prisoners elsewhere for interrogation or disposal.

It was getting close to evening and so far Trixie and her fellow Equestrians had not been bothered, only being told to settle in and not cause any trouble. Legion ponies had passed by on occasion and it had been these ponies Trixie had talked to, but for the most part the Legionnaires seemed content to ignore their Equestrian brethren as they went about their business. There was a distinct air about them that these Legion ponies didn’t really want to bother with their soft Heartlander kin. Trixie had heard more than one muttering Legion pony talking about the “cowards” who weren’t “real Legionaries”.

Trixie kept her own heated responses to herself, not wanting to waste the energy. She was dead tired after the events of the day, and since nopony yet seen fit to give the Equestrians any orders Trixie decided it was soon time to get some sleep while she still could. But before she could do that she wanted to find out how Blossomforth was. She doubted she’d be able to get any winks in with the pegasus mare’s fate still left unknown.

Though if she’s dead… sleep isn’t going to be coming anytime soon, Trixie thought glumly as she started to trot towards the field hospital.

“Are you sure you’re fit to give a report Sergeant? No insult intended by you look fit for a grave and I can wait to hear this until tomorrow,” said Captain Runeward, and Counter Charge stifled a grimace, keeping her countenance professional.

“Yes sir, I’m certain sir. I’m ready to make my report,” she said, forcing herself to ignore the pain that still radiated from her head wound. She’d briefly seen the fort’s surgeon to make sure she didn’t have a concussion, but she wasn’t about to waste the medical pony’s time when they had real wounded still to tend to. She could sleep it off later.

Runeward nodded curtly, seated behind his plain oak desk. He was a older stallion, a unicorn with a tan coat and red mane speckled with gray. His orange eyes remained sharp and keen despite his advancing years, however, and there was nopony in all of Beartrap Fortress capable of throwing up barrier spells as strong as the Captain’s. Runeward had fought on the Western front his entire life and ha been there when Beartrap Fortress had been first built nearly forty year ago. Counter Charge held the Captain in the highest esteem and had no intention of looking weak in front of him, so she gave her report on the march from the Heartland in a clear, strong voice, leaving out no detail that seemed pertinent.

Runeward listened with calm, intense eyes, and when Counter Charge finished he leaned back in his chair slightly, looking thoughtful.

"I wish our scouts had spotted you sooner, Sergeant. I’ve had to run patrols nearly triple the norm to try to keep these raiders in view, and still they keep slipping groups past us. If this fort was at full strength you’d never have run into that much trouble so close to our walls. I cannot commend you and your platoon enough for getting those Heartlanders through that ambush.”

“Sir,” Counter Charge said, her heart both feeling pride and sorrow in equal measure and she worked with hard effort to keep it off her face, “With all due respect, it was not just my platoon’s bravery that got us through. The Heartlander recruits fought beside us and acquitted themselves well.”

Runeward raised an eyebrow, “I suppose so. You sent most of them ahead of you, though, did you not?”

“Yes, I ordered the recruits to double time it down the road while my platoon moved to deal with the ursans, but a fair chunk of the recruits did get caught up in the fighting. I know from hearing it from my own platoon that a few of those Heartlanders actually got good hits in on the ursans. One even killed an ursan.”

“Truly? Hmm, perhaps they won’t be useless here, after all. At least not all of them. Still, eighteen casualties among them, twelve of those dead. I suppose it could have been worse, for their first time, but do you think we can mold them into something that will stand up to a protracted fight with the ursans?”

“Sir, I believe so. My own platoon got mauled pretty bad in that fight, too, but it would have been much worse if the Heartanders hadn’t fought as hard as they did. Some did… panic, yes, but that’s to be expected. They’ve never known fighting like we’ve known, sir.”

Runeward shook his head with a bitter laugh, “That I’m well aware of. I’m concerned that were I to send any of them out on patrol they’d just piss themselves and run at the first sign of trouble. Can they really be trusted to engage the enemy when ordered?”

Counter Charge nodded once, firmly, “They may be greener than the rawest of Borderlander recruits but come the end I think these ponies have the will and the heart to fight alongside us as good as any other Legionnaire. They have to be, otherwise what was the point of reunifying with the Heartland? What is the point of drafting them away from their homes and families if we’re not going to trust them to fight beside us as equals?”

“Perhaps. I still can’t say I didn’t wish I had a full regiment of properly trained Legion ponies to reinforce us, but these hundred Equestrians will have to do the job. As you no doubt have guessed we’re in a dangerous spot of trouble here.”

‘Spot of trouble’ was putting it mildly by Counter Charge’s reckoning. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had ursans freely roaming this side of the Bear Bones river. Raids were not unheard of, but exceedingly rare, and usually contained to areas further to the south where there were more villages to pick from Counter Charge hadn’t seen ursans close to Beartrap Fortress in a long time. Then again Beartrap Fortress had never been this badly lacking in troops before. Operations taking place in the Heartland of Equestria had stripped many forts along the Western front of several platoons or in some cases entire regiments. Counter Charge wasn’t certain exactly what was happening in the Heartland besides the work to train the new drafted Equestrians, but apparently there was word of some big battle coming.

Counter Charge knew little, just the gossip and scuttlebutt spoken around camps and mess halls. The North had won some major victory against the wolven, but somehow that had revealed a massive group of potential traitors and saboteurs inside the Legion, and something about a plot to target the Heartland. Then there were rumors that something “big” was coming and that it’d go down in the Heartland, so many were being redeployed to that region. That meant leaving other fronts with fewer troops, however, mostly the Western one with the ursans due to the fact that the ursans had been very quiet the past couple of years.

Well, now the ursans suddenly weren’t so quiet, apparently.

“Sir, if I may ask, just what is the situation out here?” Counter Charge said with a tone that still held respect but was also… strained, “We weren’t expecting to get hit, and… I did just lose a lot of good ponies because of it. Why are the ursans over the river?”

Runeward’s eyes narrowed slightly but also just as quickly softened as he gravely said, “It started happening eight days ago. Everything was quiet, with not a peep from the ursan territories across the river, then suddenly our long range scouts reported fighting among the bears.”

“Fighting?”

“Some kind of clan war. We’re not certain. Markings from multiple clans were seen amid the fighting, and our scouts could only get so close. All we know now is that the fighting has stopped and the ursans have become ten times more aggressive. We think at least two, maybe even three clans have been forcibly united by one warchief. Right now I’ve received reports of ursans massing in the foothills west of the Bear Bones, and from that massing force smaller raiding parties like the one you ran into have been sneaking over. They’ve hit villages to the north and south, and I’ve had to dispatch almost half the platoons in the fort to protect those villages, which has left even fewer ponies here to keep an eye on things around the fort then there should be.”

His eyes hardened, “Fact is we need those Heartlanders trained and battle ready as soon as possible, because I’m expecting an assault on the fortress itself soon, perhaps even before the month is out.”

Counter Charge had felt her mouth go dry as she’d listened to Runeward’s words and she couldn’t quite keep from shaking her head in disbelief, “Three clans? That’s… by the Prince’s flaming mane that could be damn near a thousand bears! Has… has the fort ever been hit with that many before?”

“Never,” Runeward said with a solemn look in his eyes, “The last time that many bears hit the Western Barrier Lands was two centuries before you or I were born, back when Skywoad Keep itself was newly built”

“What happened then?” Counter Charge dared to ask.

“The fortress held for a few weeks, but was overrun. Skywoad Keep was retaken, eventually, but there were no survivors among the troops stationed here,” he said, but Runeward’s eyes became hard and a grim smile turned his lips in a thin upward curve, “But that was two centuries ago, before we learned spell arrays, or developed the hide-piercer bolts. And I don’t believe the entire massing force will hit us at once. It’s hard for ursans among the same clan to get along, let alone multiple clans. They may just collapse in on themselves before we have to worry about it, or they might just keep pecking at us with these raiding parties. At least for now. I’ve sent messengers to request aid from Redrun Fortress and Skywoad Keep, but if reinforcements do come it will take them at least ten days to get here, and I wouldn’t expect more than a platoon or two, since they’re in the same situation we are with most of their garrisons redeployed to the Heartland.”

“So, it’s bad then,” Counter Charge said, but she kept her chin up and squared her shoulders, looking the Captain in the eyes, “We’ll make a fight of it sir, no matter what. If we fall, it won’t be until that ridge is covered with dead ursans!”

“Well said, Sergeant, and it’s that attitude I hope you’ll impart to our new recruits,” said Runeward, “I’m putting you in charge of their training. You seem to have a great deal of faith in these Heartlanders. I trust you will take to the task of preparing them with the same fervor you used to get them through an ursan ambush.”

She nodded, managing not to wince at the sharp pain from some of her lingering wounds, “Yes sir! I’ll make sure that they are ready, sir!”

“Good, good. Well then, you are dismissed to get some rest and food in you, Sergeant. Oh, and services for the dead will be at two hours past dawn tomorrow.”

An image of Tower Shield flitted through her mind but Counter Charge forced it away. As soon as she hit her bunk, she’d… let all that out, but not here in front of the Captain. With a salute she excused herself and departed the Captain’s office, her head swimming with thoughts of what the immediate future would hold.

Blossomforth awoke feeling a tad nauseous, disoriented, and with a burning ache in her right hindleg that reminded her of the time she’d clipped a wing while flying through the Whitetail Woods, crashing hard enough to break a leg. Rainbow Dash had challenged the whole weather patrol to a race and Blossomforth was never one to say no to a chance to have some fun. Blossomforth had laughed off the crash, though the busted leg had certainly been unpleasant.

This felt worse. She felt weak, and lightheaded, and the pain in her leg somehow felt clearer, more intense than that long ago memory. Opening her eyes she glanced around at her surroundings, taking it all in. She was laying on a cot in a long, rectangular room that was lined end to end in such cots. Some of them were filled, and for a moment Blossomforth was confused. Was this Ponyville hospital? It seemed darker, more dingy somehow…

Blossomforth heard a moan of pain off to her left, and looked to see a stallion in the cot next to her, his face half covered in bandages that were soaked red with blood. Blood…

The memories came back to Blossomforth in a rapid assault of images, sounds, and smells. The long march from her home in Ponyville to this cold, mountainous land. The sudden, violent ambush by those massive bear-like creatures. Ponies screaming. Ponies dying. Blossomforth remembered seeing that magician mare, Trixie, freeze up, a bear raising its paw to strike her. She remembered flying as fast as she ever recalled flying, pushing Trixie out of the way, then the horrible pain as the beast’s claws ripped into her leg and flank.

She remembered being carried by Trixie out of the battle, protesting the whole way, and then slowly passing out from blood loss.

Blossomforth noticed there were a few ponies moving among the wounded, checking on them, but none of these ponies were close to her. Trepidation fell over her like a heavy, wet blanket but she steeled herself and raised the blanket covering her to look at her leg. It was heavily bandaged, though the bandages were relatively clean of blood. There was little else to see, and Blossomforth was just glad she still had her leg at all. She experimented by trying to move it a bit but a hot lance of made her gasp and drop the blanket back over herself as she winced.

“Don’t be a damn fool,” said a voice next to her, suddenly, and Blossomforth started, looking over to see a young looking unicorn stallion had just… sort of appeared next to her bed. She certainly hadn’t heard him approach, but she recognized him as one of the ponies she’d seen checking the other patients. How he’d suddenly gotten over to her so quickly and quietly she didn’t know, and she gave him a sheepish grin at his stern, sour faced look.

“Sorry? Um… I’m Blossomforth. Nice to meet you?”

The stallion’s expression barely changed as he said, “Quick Needle. Head surgeon of Beartrap Fortress.”

Head surgeon? Blossomforth couldn’t imagine a pony so young being in such a position. Quick Needle didn’t look much older than she was. He had a dusky dark violet coat that reminded Blossomforth of the sky just prior to true nightfall. His mane was just a shade lighter, and both his mane and coat contrasted sharply with his nearly neon pink eyes. She reflexively looked for his cutie mark before she remembered that the ponies born in the Barrier Lands didn’t have those. Apparently cutie marks were a special magical brand that only appeared on those born in the Heartland, something to do with Celestia’s magic. Blossomforth wondered what this pony’s cutie mark might be if he did have one? A frowny face? He certainly didn’t look like he ever smiled much.

Interrupting her thoughts Quick Needle lit up his horn with a pink glow and a wash of magic ran over her, making Blossmforth feel tingly for a second. He made a vague “hmm” sound before raising a small notebook and making a mark in it with a quill.

“If you keep off the leg it should recover within about three days. You’re lucky. Your artery was only nicked, and if you had arrived any later then you wouldn’t be alive to look at my flank like that.”

“Oh, I, uh, was just forgetting you guys don’t have cutie marks. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. If you’re looking, it means you’re recovering. We need every breathing pony we can get our hooves on. Might recommend in the future you try not to get into melee range with a pissed off ursan. You got wings, use them to stay in the air.”

Blossomforth crossed her forehooves over her barrel and puffed her cheeks out, “Well if I’d done that then my friend would’ve died!”

“So nearly getting killed yourself seems a fair trade to you? Try to value your life a bit more, otherwise the next time I see you will probably be when they’re putting you in the dirt,” Quick Needle said, his voice tired and resigned, as if he expected to see Blossomforth dead anyway even if she was careful.

Blossomforth wanted to be annoyed with his manner, but seeing the hospital, all the wounded, and realizing that this was the pony who was responsible for tending to her leg, not to mention all the injuries of the others, some of which looked far worse than what she’d suffered… well that softened any ire she might have felt about his attitude.

“Thank you,” she said, “For saving my leg, I mean. And helping all these other ponies.”

He blinked at her, then shrugged, “I just performed my duty. Don’t thank me for it. Besides, that unicorn that brought you in is as much responsible for your survival as I was.”

“Trixie!” Blossomforth exclaimed.

Quick Needle frowned, “Was that her name?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, but I mean, “ Blossomforth pointed, “Trixie!”

Quick Needle looked over his shoulder to see the same blue mare trotting nervously into the hospital from the large double doors leading outside. Trixie looked around the dimly lit confines of the hospital and when she spotted a waving Blossomforth sitting up in her cot it seemed like Trixie all but fell over in obvious relief.

Quick Needle stepped aside as Trixie trotted over, “I’ll leave you two to talk. Don’t move or exert yourself. If one of the Legionnaires asks, tell them I haven’t cleared you for duty yet. “

“Thanks Quick!” Blossomforth said with a beaming smile. Quick Needle gave her an odd look, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath as he moved on to check on his next patient.

“…Hey…” Trixie said, glancing down and away from Blossomforth as she walked up beside the pegasus mare’s cot.

“Hey! Uh, you okay Trixie? Something wrong?” Blossomforth asked, trying to move her head to angle it up to look at Trixie’s face, to which the unicorn mare winced, her tone becoming worried as she shifted on her hooves.

“Now that she knows you’re alright Trixie was just… concerned. Concerned you might be mad at her.”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Blossomforth tilted her head, one ear flicking.

“Trixie took you away from the fight against your will, leaving behind another pony. Trixie thought you’d be mad at her about that.”

Blossomforth paused for a moment, looking away and her shoulders slumping, “Oh, right. Um, you’ve been out and about. Do you know if that gray mare survived?”

Trixie blinked, suddenly looking thoughtful as she rubbed her chin, “Trixie doesn’t know. She hasn’t looked. Trixie could do so, if you want.”

Blossomforth smiled, “That would be great! I… I’m sure she survived. She seemed real tough. And I’m not mad at you Trixie. I know you did what you did to help me. The doctor just told me that I would’ve died if you hadn’t gotten me here so fast. So thank you, for my life Trixie. I owe you big time.”

Trixie appeared startled for a moment, looking at Blossomforth with slightly widened eyes, but then she seemed to soak in Blossomforth’s words and puffed her chest out, almost striking a pose right then and there.

“Well, of course! Trixie’s incredible loyalty to her friends is legend in every corner of Equestria! Don’t worry, Trixie will think of some manner you can repay her in the future, perhaps by assisting with one of Trixie’s magnificent shows!”

Blossomforth giggled, “I don’t think the Legion is going to go for stage magic shows, Trixie.”

“Irrelevant! They will be in awe of Trixie’s mastery of the spectacular and will beg Trixie to entertain them and put some life into this dreary place. Perhaps Trixie’s unrivaled skill as an entertainer will tame the savage beasts outside as well! Or… or Trixie supposes she might have to hold off on performing her show until her time in the Legion is up.”

A thought suddenly striking her Blossomforth reached over and touched Trixie’s shoulder, causing the mare to stop looking off into the distance with a gloomy expression and instead meet Blossomforth’s eyes.

“Hey, let’s make it a promise,” said Blossomforth, “We look out for each other, and survive together. When we both finish our term with the Legion and get to go home, well, we’ll go back to Ponyville! You can do your show again, and I’ll help. I might not look it, but I’m quite flexible. I can do all kinds of aerial stunts, oooh, or you can do that trick where you saw a pony in half! I’ve always loved that trick! Uh… you can do that trick, right?”

Trixie snorted with mock indignance, but her smile was genuine, “As if there should be any doubt! A promise it is then.”

The two mares shook on it. The danger they were in, and the unsteady future ahead of them, at least for the moment, wasn’t going to put a damper on their spirits. For Blossomforth it was a good feeling, but one that was covering up a pocket of deep worry. She’d seen what she and her fellow ponies were up against and the images of seeing ponies savagely killed by ursan claws was buried in the back of her mind, a horror that she wasn’t about to forget.

The promise wasn’t just a whim, but a needed affirmation in Blossomforth’s mind that they’d survive.

No matter what.

The air here was colder and sharper than it’d ever been back in Coco Pommel’s home city of Manehattan. Every time the wind swept through the fort the young earth pony mare tugged her Legion leather coat more tightly around herself. Coco had wandered away from the tents where the other recruits were resting and eating. She hadn’t much of an appetite herself and had slipped away while everypony was distracted with their food. She couldn’t imagine how they could all eat so readily after what had happened today. All Coco had to do was take one look at the stew served in simple wooden bowls and her mind conjured images of pony innards spilled across the dirt, of heads bitten clean off the shoulders, and of dying ponies with their chests ripped open, blood pouring out of their mouths.

It wasn’t fear or revulsion that made her lose her appetite, however, but rage. Anger unlike anything the gentle Coco Pommel had ever imagined feeling. Sure she’d gotten a tad irked at things before, often when Suri had her run some ludicrous errand, or fix stitching that Suri herself had suggested in the first place! But those moments of faint anger and irritation were nothing, a mere flickering candle, compared to the boiling volcano of raw fire that seemed to ignite in her heart when she remembered what had happened to those poor ponies who’d died that day.

The ursans… those monsters… she’d never forgive them! Nothing so horrible should be allowed to exist! Anything that would do that to a pony should be eradicated, to the last!

Coco shuddered, frightened. Not of the ursans, or of the battle, but of her own unstable emotions. She had never felt like this before. She could barely recall some of her actions during the battle, but still remembered the rage, and the feeling of release when she’d shoved her sword into the flesh of an ursan.

What’s wrong with me? she thought, wandering towards the northwest palisade, I’ve never wanted to hurt anypony or anything before. I hate violence. So why am I so… so angry? I need to calm down. Clear my head.

There were Legion ponies guarding the palisade, up on the wall standing watch. One of them gave her a stern look as she approached.

“What business do you have here, Chosen?” the earth pony asked, voice firm.

“Oh, I, well, I was just needing to clear my thoughts a bit,” Coco said, having almost walked right past the sentry without noticing her, “Can I stand on the wall for a little while?”

“Only those on duty should be on the-“ the earth pony began to respond, but then a voice called down from above.

“Let her up Buckler. I’ll take responsibility for her.”

Buckler glanced upward at the figure that’d appeared at the top of the ram leading to the palisade, a gray unicorn mare that Coco recognized as Coldiron. Buckler nodded once, curetly, saluting.

“If you say so, Corporal.”

Coldiron motioned for Coco to join her and Coco walked past Buckler with a slightly shy nod of her head, quickly trotting up the ramp. The top of the palisade consisted of thick wood planks that formed a walkway from one end of the earthen wall to the other. Packed dirt and support logs kept the planks solid, and the wall itself was high enough that it reached chest height on most earth ponies. The wall was built from thick wood logs, some of which created spiked tops, while others were angled outward like spears along the thick and steeply inclined earth mound that formed the outer wall. Coco could get a clear look over the wall at the thick tangle of traps and spikes lining the ridge that curved to the north, and then the river to the west.

“How are you feeling, recruit?” asked Coldiron as she led Coco to a spot where apparently Coldiron had been standing watch, looking west.

“I’m… okay, I suppose,” said Coco, her eyes turning downcast for a second before she shook herself and looked at Coldiron, “Is it always like that? The battle, I mean.”

Coldiron met Coco’s gaze solidly, “It is. Sometimes it’s worse. We got lucky today. If reinforcements from the fort hadn’t arrived when they did we might have all fallen out there.”

At the sight of Coco’s ears flattening and her eyes growing pained Coldiron added, “You fought well, though. Were you one of those ‘Royal Guard’ I’ve heard about that guarded Princess Celestia?”

“Huh?” Coco blinked in surprise, and then laughed, though it was half hearted at best, “Oh, no no no! I couldn’t be a Royal Guard. I’m a fashion designer! Or… or I was. I made dresses, hats, that kind of thing, back in Manehattan. Well, I kind of did. I was just an assistant.”

Coldiron stared at her for a second, then started watching the western area, speaking while her eyes searched for signs of trouble outside the fort, “A fashion designer. Unbelievable. What a waste it would’ve been if you had stayed in that Manehattan of yours, making dresses. You have a gift for killing ursans, I’d say.”

Coco winced, though Coldiron probably couldn’t see that, “I don’t want to kill anything. I just don’t want ponies to die.”

“You’ll find that a hard wish to fulfill out here,” said Coldiron, “Ponies die everday in the Legion. It’s what we were born to do.”

“Surely not everypony out here just fights and nothing else? You need ponies to make things, build things, grow food…” Coco said, waving a hoof in a vague gesture.

“Yes, we have our civilians who do that kind of work, but for every farmer or laborer we have another who joins the Legion. And even our civilians train in weapons and are ready to fight if a town or village comes under attack,” said Coldiron, her voice not harsh, just stating facts, “This is how life has been out here for generations.”

Coco was now also looking out across the wall towards the west, her eyes settling on the dark, thick line of pine trees that dominated the land across the river. It was like one huge carpet of dark, shadowy green, rolling across foothills and up into the sharp, jagged mountain peaks. Entire armies of ursans could hide in that treeline, in that massive ocean of forest, and remain unseen until they burst out of the trees to attack the fort. It suddenly made sense to Coco why so many trees had been cut down to create a sizeable field before the ridgeline, and along the other fronts of the fort. Otherwise an ursan could probably have just walked right up to the wall without being spotted first.

“So, um, I you don’t mind me asking, do you have any family, Miss Coldiron?”

Coldiron stiffened, “It’s Corporal, recruit, but, yes, I have family.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Of course I do. I get to see my brothers and father, once in a while. We do occasionally get leave to visit family.”

Coco glanced sidelong at Coldiron, “What about your mother?”

“…Dead. She served at Skywoad Keep as a Sergeant in the 17th Infantry. Met my father there, who was a local farmer. Saved him from an ursan raid. They managed to have my brothers and me over the next few years, but she died six years ago during another raid, defending the Keep.”

“I…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. She died as a Legionnaire should, protecting Equestria. I’m proud to call myself her daughter. I can only hope to die with honor in the same manner.”

Coco’s eyes gained a faint gleam of heat in them as that anger rose in her, “Nopony should ever want to die at all. The ursans shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t be killing ponies.”

Her teeth were grinding together as the strange rage rose inside her, making her blood boil beneath her coat and the chill wind from the mountains suddenly seem like a summer breeze. Coldiron looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“The only way to stop them is to kill them first, recruit. Never forget that. Wishing them away won’t work. We have to fight to protect our own. If you really don’t want to watch ponies die, then I suggest you train hard, and fight harder. Ponies will still die, but maybe your fervor will help keep a few extra alive. I know it certainly saved my hide out there today.”

Her anger momentarily forgotten Coco looked away, rubbing the back of her head, “I was just… I don’t know what happened to me. I just got so angry, and acted without thinking. I was so mad. I still… I still am, whenever I think about the ursans and what they did to those ponies. I don’t know where I got the strength to... to k-kill that ursan. I don’t know if I can do that again.”

Something passed through Coldiron’s eyes that Coco didn’t quite recognize. Sympathy? Not quite, more like it seemed that Coldiron was remembering something that made her features soften.

“The first time is the roughest even on those of us born out here. Don’t worry about it so much. When the time comes, you’ll find out what you’re really made of, Coco Pommel.”

For some reason having her name be used put Coco at greater ease, and for the moment she was able to ignore the linger rage inside her at the nature of this terrible war. She only hoped that Coldiron was right.

Author's Note

Not a lot to say for this chapter, just an introduction to the fortress and some character interactions to get our characters settled in.

Chapter 4: Skittering Shadows

Chapter 4: Skittering Shadows

Angry breaths frosted in the air in front of his muzzle and Warchief Ulragnok growled, deep, rumbling in his massive chest. His towering brown furred form was clad in large, thick slabs of iron armor, which clanked loudly amid the thick depths of the forest as the huge ursan paced in the small clearing where he had agreed to meet with his… allies.

He was becoming frustrated. Things were moving far too slowly! He wanted to attack now! He had the forces! The Yellowtooth, Scarred Hide, and Night Roar clans were under his complete control now, but that would not last if Ulragnok did not deliver upon his promise to give the braves of those clans the glorious battle they so desired! Did his allies not understand the ursan spirit!? Ursans cared not for detailed plans or languidly waiting for the right moment to strike. Let the old longtooths of the clan be cautious! A ursan brave was meant to fight! Openly, gloriously, and without fear, against worthy foes!

The ponies might have seemed soft, but ursans understood the steel underneath their strange, prey-like appearance. For generations the ursans had the honor to test their power against the worthy foes of the Legion, but for too long had that great war seemed to slow to a crawl, the elders of too many clans seeming content with occasional raids and nothing more.

Ulragnok remembered as a small cub hearing the stories from the gray furred longtooths of the clan of the glory days, when hundreds of ursans would clash against the endless armies of the Legion. Grand battles where a brave could prove his worth by spilling the blood of both himself and his enemies! Days when after the hard fought battle was won one could drink one’s fill of blood and mead both and sing of one’s deeds for all to hear, echoing in the boughs of the mighty, eternal forest! What glory was there now? What glory in endless days of hunting fish, brawling with other bored braves, and waiting for the elders to deign to approve of a raid into the pony’s territory?

No! No more! Ulragnok, son of Barragar, would not let his life pass in meek, timid games and waiting for the chance of glory that would never come! He would forge a name in glory and blood, and show all of his race what it meant to be an ursan. To that end he’d tried to rouse his own Yellowtooth clan, even going so far as to challenging his elderly father to open combat.

He’d lost, the ragged scars crossing his wide face the remembrance his father had given him for his insolence. But then, in his most desperate moment of shame, he had found strange allies. Allies that had opened the way for him to take leadership of his clan, and of two others…

Allies Ulragnok was far from certain he could trust.

It was nighttime, the only time his allies ever agreed to meet with him. The sky above was beautifully clear, the lake of stars above glittering like precious stones in the night’s ceiling. Ulragnok was not immune to recognizing that beauty, but his mood was too foul to properly enjoy the view past the tree branches. His rounded, tufted ears twitched as he thought he heard the faintest brush of something sharp over tree bark. He issued a low growl as around him came a whisper of scratching that to many would have sounded like merely the branches swaying against each other, but he had heard enough times to recognize the subtle difference.

They were here.

His dark eyes scanned the shadows above, the tangled mix of black upon black that could be tree branches… or could be something else. Shadows moved and swayed, and amid them perhaps a patch of black moved in a way that wasn’t natural, was certainly no tree branch. A faint, soft series of clicks came and went with a chilly breeze, and it almost sounded like laughter.

“I know you are here!” he bellowed, stamping one paw firmly, “How long must I wait!? My clans are restless, my braves will not be satisfied with little skirmishes and raids for long. We must soon strike against the ponies! Why do we wait?”

Silence, for a minute. Then, barely perceptible even to Ulragnok’s keen senses, a voice spoke only an octave above a whisper. It came from everywhere and nowhere, surrounding him as if one voice was in fact many, and it held the trace of a light, feminine chime to it.

“Patience. Patience. Bear-thing must be patient. Strings coming together, plans forming shapes, all is for purpose. Purpose, yes.”

Another set of laughing clicks, and a shadow move to his left, Ulragnok almost catching the side of something black with many legs flowing up a tree into deeper shadows. Then another shape to his right, crawling around a trunk out of sight. He grunted.

“Purpose? What purpose, other than to make us froth at the mouth in boredom!? You promised me war! You promised glory! Yet you insist I hold my army back, that I… wait. Why? I demand you tell me!”

“Angry bear-thing, making demands of those who want to help. Yes, help. Your army is big, filled with many strong warriors. True. True. Time comes soon to attack, and have blood.”

At that word there was a series of hisses and clicks like the sound the wind makes when rushing through the trees, but the wind had quieted and this sound left Ulragnok shivering for reasons other than the cold.

“Blood. Yes, blood. Much blood. Soon all will be in place. Your wait is soon to be over, mighty bear-thing. We nearly finish our work, and then, when the moon becomes newborn, then you attack. Then you war.”

“Newborn moon… the new moon?” Ulragnok asked, then found himself grinning with eager bloodlust, ”That is close. Perhaps only six or seven more days."

“Yes, days. When the moon is black in the sky, when all is dark and unseen, that is when bear-thing leads his army to war. Do this, and we continue to help you in all things. Help you find your desire.”

With that the shadows upon shadows crept away, and in moments Ulragnok found himself standing in that clearing alone. He shivered one last time, shaking off the chill in his spine. His allies were creatures he still did not understand, and hardly trusted, but as long as they held up their end of the bargain he didn’t care.

When the new moon arrived the ursans would march to war.

“Up and at ‘em ladies and lads! C’mon, just because you’re fancy Princess ain’t raised the sun yet don’t mean you gotta keep sleeping away like foals!”

Trixie, with no small effort, suppressed the urge to grab the nearest available object and throw it at the Legion mare who was shouting among the tents and rousing the recruits with a bellowing voice that was somehow becoming shriller by the second. From what she’d seen of the Legion so far tossing a rock at her superiors would result in lashes.

Rolling to her tired hooves Trixie blinked away sleep and trudged out along with her fellow recruits to line up for inspection. This had been the routine for the past two days since arriving at Beartrap Fortress. Wake up at an hour that Trixie was certain was cursed by Luna and Celestia both, get inspected, then proceed to do “physical training” for several hours before breakfast. After breakfast they’d get split off into groups based on race and talents and spend half the day being trained on all manner of basics of Legion operation and combat. At some point past midday they’d get a quick break and short meal before moving on to being arranged in teams to help with fort maintenance and assorted chores. The evening would see another couple of hours of physical training followed by dinner, then off to the tents to sleep so the process could be repeated.

Two days of that had left Trixie’s mind a pile of mush and her body feeling almost as tired as it’d been the one time she’d decided to do the long haul trek to the Mild West to do a show in Appleoosa.

Now that it was day three Trixie was wondering how she was going to put up with four years of this drudgery, only to be broken up by moments o sheer terror like the battle on the road. Trixie’s sleep had been filled with wretched dreams of the battle two days ago. Not a night had gone by where she hadn’t seen the ponies who’d died again, seeing their final moments in the delightfully detailed slow motion that nightmares loved to subject her to. The screams of the dead still echoed in her mind, but Trixie was a champion of ignoring unpleasant things, even in her own head. She also wasn’t a stranger to early mornings, so she supposed she was weathering things better than some.

There were more than a few ponies among the Equestrian draftee’s who were not doing nearly so well. One mare had woken up in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder and had tried to run out of the fort as if Nightmare Moon herself were after her. That poor mare had needed to be tackled to the ground and put in confinement until she’d calmed down, though as far as Trixie had seen the mare was now being watched in the hospital due to her apparent catatonic state. Other ponies among the Equestrians just looked… dead already, as if all the spirit and life had been drained from them. They got up, ate, went through the motions of training like the rest of them, but these ponies to Trixie’s eyes looked like broken wind-up toys, jerkily going about the routine but lacking any spark of life in them. It was creepy.

Then there were the criers. Trixie had shed a few tears herself, though she’d deny it to anypony who asked, but there were others who would sob through the night, or even break down in the middle of training. The Legion ponies in charge of them varied in how much patience they had for the Equestrian Heartlanders, some seeming to understand that they were working with ponies who really weren’t used to or suited to this kind of lifestyle and needed time to adjust, while others harshly berated those who slacked or broke down, in some cases administering punishments ranging from digging and cleaning the latrines to doing even more physical exercise.

The mare in charge of their training, at least, seemed to be in the former category and had forbidden any severe punishments to those who broke down. No lashes, primarily. She had also been the one to insist the catatonic mare be looked after in the hospital, while there had been other Legion ponies who’d wanted to keep the mare in the stockade, or… Trixie had even heard one Legion pony mention hanging the mare for cowardice.

Counter Charge had put a stop to that talk. Thus far Trixie’s estimation of the stout blue earth pony Legionnaire was that she could be trusted, and actually cared about what happened to the draftees. The training was tough, and Counter Charge didn’t let up with it, but she let those who broke down get breaks and didn’t seem to push the company any harder than needed.

Also she got up at the same time as the rest of them and went through the physical training right alongside the draftees, a fact Trixie found a tad odd, given Counter Charge was in command, but it seemed a nice gesture. Today was no different, and while the shouting Legion pony had gotten the draftee’s in line, Counter Charge arrived a moment later to oversee the inspection.

“Hmm, good, good,” Counter Charge said as she went up and down the line, checking each draftee with a critical eye.

“Let’s see… Mint Breeze, right? Ready to work on your spear thrusts today?” Counter Charge asked one of the pegeasi, a stick thin mint colored mare.

“Y-yes ma’am?” Mint Breeze responded, gulping. Counter Charge smiled, nodding.

“It’s ‘yes Sergeant’, and glad to hear it. You’ll do fine.”

Down the line Counter Charge went like that, speaking to the draftees and seeming to make a point of remembering their names and offer words of encouragement. The pony that’d woken the draftee’s up followed close behind, with a sickeningly cheerful smile on her face. Trixie didn’t know this pony too well yet, a green pegasus mare with a messy, short black mane named Alpine who always seemed to have energy no matter what time of day it was.

When Counter Charge got to Trixie she looked the unicorn up and down just like all the other ponies in the line and Trixie stiffened a bit, trying to stand straighter. Trixie had never liked the feeling of being judged, even in the most simple or innocuous of ways.

“Trixie, correct?” asked Counter Charge.

“Yes ma’am, er, Sergeant.”

“Hmm, you’re the one with the fireworks. Interesting spell. How’s your training going with combat spells and arrays?”

Trixie pursed her lips, trying not to look as flustered as she felt as the thought over the past two days of less than successful attempts to cast more than a sputtering arcane blast. She was starting to grasp the spell arrays and was feeling more confident about those, but she didn't like them very much. It didn't sit well with Trixie to let another lead, which was required with a spell array. Since she lacked skill yet in offensive magic she had to let a more experienced Legion unicorn lead the array. She could do it, but it grated against her instincts to let another take control of her magic like that.

“Trixie is… making progress,” she said evasively.

Counter Charge quirked and eyebrow, though whether at Trixie’s vague response or use of third-person Trixie didn’t know.

“Right. Keep making progress. We’ll need every caster doing their part when the time comes.”

Counter Charge moved on and Trixie was left wondering a very important question; when the time comes for what? It could have been just an off-hoof reference to anytime they might be called upon to fight, but Trixie was fairly good at picking out tone and meaning in words, and it sounded to her like Counter Charge was worried about something. That she had reason to believe there would be need for all the fort’s casters to be at their best soon.

Trixie was still ruminating on this hours later after an exhausting session of physical training that was capped by a long circuit of runs around the fort’s perimeter.

“What could be happening…?” Trixie wondered to herself aloud as the draftees, herself included, collapsed in heaps on the ground after the final lap of their un was finished, “Could there be more ursans out there?”

“Ursans?” asked the pony next to Trixie, and Trixie jumped a bit, glancing over at the pony who spoke.

She was an off white mare, an earth pony with a two toned blue mane. Like Trixie she wore basic leather armor, though hers was heavier set. All the ponies were given heavy leather packs to wear as well while running, to simulate the full kit a Legionnaire was expected to carry in the field. Trixie, sweat soaked, had set her pack aside as she looked this mare over.

“Trixie was merely thinking aloud. She does that sometimes. It helps her magnificently complex mind function like the steel trap it is! Um…who are you? Trixie has not caught your name.”

“Oh, Coco Pommel, pleased to meet you,” Coco held out a hoof and Trixie, after a moment of looking at the offered hoof, took it and shook.

“Trixie imagines the pleasure is mutual. Now, as Trixie was saying, she has been thinking. The ponies of the Legion here seem very nervous, even Sergeant Counter Charge.”

Coco nodded, wiping some sweat from her brow as she stretched her legs, “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. Coldiron says that they’re worried about the ursans coming for the fort. It’s apparently out of the ordinary for there to be so many in the area. The way we got hit coming into the fort, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

A dark look crossed Coco’s features, Trixie for a second feeling a spike of fear at the fierce glow entering the other mare’s eyes, “We weren’t supposed to have to fight ursans until much later, but the ursans were here, now, and ponies died because of it. If they come again, I’ll do whatever it takes to stop them!”

“Uhhh… okay… Trixie thinks that is very, um, noble of you,” she said, mulling over what Coco had said. So the Legion ponies thought an attack would be coming soon? And that the number of ursans in this area was unusual? Trixie’s sense of mystery was tingling and she suspected there was more going on here than just some random invasion. If the ursans hadn’t been this aggressive in this region for so long then it stood to reason that something was making them more aggressive. Trixie didn’t have enough information to do more than speculate, and more to the point, if an attack was coming soon, she hardly had time to do any real investigating. For now she’d just need to focus on staying alive, no matter what.

“In any case, who is this Coldiron?” Trixie asked.

Coco seemed to immediately brighten up, her earlier dark look vanishing, “Coldiron is my friend. She’s a corporal, and a very nice pony once you get to know her! She’s a unicorn like you. I’m surprised you haven’t seen her.”

“Trixie may have, but Trixie has a hard time remembering these Legion pony’s names. It’s always Bloody Sword or Flamemane or some silly name like that. Why can’t they have normal names?”

“What, like Trixie?” Coco asked with a small smile, elbowing Trixie.

“Trixie is a fine name! Trixie thinks her name is quite pleasing to the ear and easy to remember. What about ‘Coco Pommel’? What’s that even mean?”

Coco laughed, hiding her face with a hoof, “Don’t ask. My mom had a weird sense of humor. Anyway you should look around for Coldiron. She’s not assigned to train us Heartlanders, but she seems really good with attack spells, and I bet if you asked her she’d help. She’s the gray mare with the brown mane.”

Trixie’s memory got tickled by that, “Wait. Stout little mare, about yay high, short cut bushy mane that looks like somepony slapped a squirrel on her head?”

“Well I wouldn’t describe her mane quite like that, though it could use some brushing and maybe a nice hat to accentuate it and bring out her eyes… but, um, yeah that’s her. That’s Coldiron.”

“Horseapples,” Trixie muttered, “Trixie has been looking for that mare! How did Trixie not notice her earlier? Why do all these Legion ponies look the same!?”

Coco gave Trixie a strange look, head slightly tilted, “I don’t think they all look the same, they just tend to look so uniform because of the armor they wear, and I guess they do tend to be more gray and brown than colorful. Anyway why were you looking for Coldiron?”

“Because Trixie’s friend was worried about whether or not this Coldiron survived the fight and Trixie said she’d look for her, but Trixie has been very busy and very tired from all this training, so Trixie hasn’t had much chance to look for anypony. Bah, Trixie will find her today, then, and make sure she is alright. Then Trixie shall tell Blossomforth the good news and something good might come out of the day.”

“Well, glad I could help,” said Coco with a happy nod.

“Trixie supposes she thanks you for that. When Trixie one day becomes famous she will remember your help and provide you free tickets to her show!”

“You’re a showmare, then?” Coco asked, then sheepishly gestured around at the fort and the collection of tired draftees who were still catching their breath from the run, “I mean, before all this.”

“Indeed. Trixie was, is, one of the greatest magicians in Equestria! Trixie has dazzled, awed, and left speechless crowds from Fillydelphia to Las Pegasus! This… this incarceration in the Legion is just a temporary setback in Trixie’s career.”

Trixie trailed off, her energy dampening as she thought about Blossomforth’s injuries and how close the pegasus had come to dying, saving Trixie. She also thought of the ponies she’d seen die two days ago. For some their time in the Legion became all too tragically permanent. It soured Trixie’s mood to grandstand and left her feeling even more irritated than usual. Coco meanwhile took Trixie’s pause as an invitation to speak about herself as well.

“Well, I’m from Manehattan. Lived my whole life there, and thought I might never leave. I wanted nothing more than to be a good fashion designer, helping ponies look their best. I never imagined that there were ponies in the world who had to fight like these Legion ponies do. It’s terrible… but I’m kind of glad I’m here.”

Trixie’s eyes blinked several times as she stared in blank shock at Coco.

“Trixie does not think she heard you correctly. You’re glad to be here!?”

Coco flinched a bit at the high tone in Trixie’s voice, “Well, it’s just that I don’t think ponies should have to fight so much, or be afraid of dying all the time, but Coldiron told me that the other races out here beyond the Barrier Lands would just stomp right on into Equestria if nopony was around to stop them. So I’ve been thinking, as much as I hate fighting and seeing ponies die, isn’t it good if I can do something to help? The Legion needs ponies to fight, to protect all our family and friends back in Equestria. I know I’d hate it if these ursan monsters somehow got to Manehattan and killed all the ponies I knew back home. So…”

Again that fierce light entered Coco’s eyes, “So I won’t let any monsters get into Equestria. I’ll stop them all, with my own hooves!”

Trixie didn’t know how to respond to that. She just wanted to live through this madness. She had no ambitions to stop the ursans or anything. She didn’t have any high minded ideals to do her part for any supposed greater good. Trixie just wanted to not die, and also make sure Blossomforth survived. She’d be happy if not another fight happened for all the four years she’d be stuck working for the Legion.

Trixie wondered if that made her a coward. She, oddly, thought back to the Ursa Minor and Ponyville.

She’d tried to be great, to be brave. It hadn’t worked out so well, and the purple one had taken care of things so easily, as if Trixie’s efforts hadn’t meant a thing! Now here she was again, dealing with cursed bears and seeing other ponies seem to rise to the challenge while all she wanted to do was run away.

Trixie hated this feeling of weakness inside herself, but shoved the feeling deep down and put on an air of confidence.

“Trixie wishes you the best of luck with that, Coco,” she said.

At that point Alpine flew over the draftees, calling for them to get to their hooves.

“Get on over to the mess hall kiddies and grab yourselves some grub,” Alpine shouted, buzzing from one end of the draftee’s to the other, waving her green hooves, “Move it! Before all the best gruel is gone! And don’t let me catch you being late to your assigned training squads! Eat quick and get on out to your appropriate training ground. Earth ponies, that means the wall for target practice, unicorns on the south end of the ridge for spell training, and all you lovely pegasi get the honor of joining me near the east tree-line for spear practice!”

Trixie couldn’t fathom the mare’s relentless energy, and barely had the energy herself to keep resenting it as she stood and started to trudge alongside Coco to the mess hall.

Her horn’s steady glow barely flickered as Coldiron connected with her two partners and calmly spoke as she directed them.

“Match my pressure, but don’t resist the pull you’ll feel from my end,” she told the two Heartlander unicorns, “You need to let my flow dictate the course of your own magic, while still keeping up a steady stream that can support the spell.”

The mare on her right, a ludicrously tall, lanky crème colored mare with a bright blue mane, was sweating profusely as her horn sparked, “Th-this is really tough.”

“Deal with it,” Coldiron said, “Just keep up, even if it feels like you can’t. You’d be surprised how much magic you got stuck in you if you just dig a little.”

The other unicorn, a stallion of a dark purple with a white, curly mane, was breathing hard, his own magic little more than an unsteady stringy mist, “How much longer… do we need to… to do this for?”

“Until we either get it right or somepony collapses,” Coldiron said with a hard tone, “If you ponies can’t form an array then you’ll be useless for the next fight. So we need to do this until you get it!”

There were groups like hers spread out in a long line all across the open, muddy flats between Beartrap Fortress and the forest to the east, just south of the road that led further into Legion territory. Coldiorn knew that further along that road, perhaps eighteen miles, was the township of Arrow Vale, her hometown. Back there her father still owned the old farmstead, one of the few in the region. Her older brother lived there as well, having chosen to help their father with the farm, while her younger brother had joined the Legion like she had. He was stationed many miles to the south at Skywoad Keep, just like their mother had been before her death.

Coldiron wondered if she’d ever see any of them again. Given what she’d heard trickle down the rumor mill the chances of that were slim. Word had it a massive ursan army was gathered across the river, somewhere in that huge unending forest, and could attack at any time. Reinforcements would be long in coming from other forts, probably nowhere near in time to help.

Word had already been sent back to Arrow Vale of the need to possibly evacuate further east or south, but it was anypony’s guess if the stubborn residents of the town would actually abandon their homes, even in the face of a overwhelming ursan invasion. As for the Legion ponies at Beartrap Fortress, it was do or die. Duty demanded they do all they could to delay the ursan forces, even to the last standing pony. Coldiron knew that Captain Runeward was having most the pegasi working double time to patrol, keeping an eye out for the slightest hint of an attack. The rest of the ponies in the fort had the task of making sure all the fortifications and traps were ready, and to spare no effort training the Heartlander draftees to get them in fighting shape as fast as possible.

Coldiron wasn’t holding out much hope that these draftee’s, however, would be much good. Certainly a few showed talent, and guts, but those were hardly substitutes for experience and sufficient training. Without a spell array event teaching these unicorns basic spell attacks wouldn’t mean much, because ursans shrugged off lesser spells like a pony much shrug off rain.

The tall, lanky mare, Allie Way, suddenly shuddered, breathing out a huff as her horn went dead.

“I’m…sorry, just… got nothing left…” she said, sweat trickling down her long neck. Coldiron let out a heavy sigh and broke her connection with the stallion, Mulberry Wine, and sat on her haunches.

“Take a few minutes to rest, then, but I need you to try again, recruit,” she said, her tone brokering no argument. Despite that, however, Allie Way gave her a pleading look.

“I said I’m sorry, but… but I really got nothing left! If I keep channeling, I’ll burnout!”

“And if you can’t form an array and help a real unicorn get a strong enough spell off to kill an ursan then that same ursan is going to rip that oversized neck in half!” Coldiron growled, her frustration getting the best of her as she glared at the other mare.

Allie Way’s eyes widened, brimming with tears, and the mare lowered her head, letting out a few sobs. Coldiron shook her head. She hated the way these Heartlanders would cry at the simplest of insults or a bit of harsh language. Tears wouldn’t stop the ursans from killing them! Didn’t these ponies understand that Coldiron was trying to help them? There’d be no excuses when it came time to fight.

“Telling ponies they’re going to die does not inspire confidence,” said a voice behind Coldiron, and she turned to see a unicorn from a nearby group break off from the trio she’d been working with and trot over. Coldiron recognized her immediately as the same light blue unicorn who Coldiron had fought beside at the battle two days ago. She’d never gotten the pony’s name.

Now that pony approached her, the Legion unicorn she’d been working with following quickly behind.

“Sorry Coldiron,” said the other Legion unicorn, a black stallion named Eldritch Dart. He gave the blue mare a stern look, “I didn’t give you permission to cease working on our array, recruit Trixie!”

Trixie glanced at him, “Trixie knows that. But Trixie has things to say to this mare! Coldiron, correct?”

Coldiron frowned, eyes narrowing slightly, “How did you learn my name?”

“Trixie talked with another mare. Coco. She claims you as a friend. Now, first off, Trixie will say she is glad, for the sake of Blossomforth, that you are well. Neither Trixie nor Blossomforth knew if you were alive.”

“Blossomforth’s that pegasus?” Coldiron asked, and at Trixie’s nod she let her frown soften somewhat, “Good. She has a good spine on her. Hope she’ll be on her hooves by the time we get into the next fight, because we’re going to need ponies with some fire in them. Unlike this mare, who looks like she’d rather weep and hope an ursan doesn’t tear her head off because of how pathetic she looks!”

“Be that as it may Trixie doesn’t think that yelling at her and running her, and other ponies, into the ground will accomplish anything except asking sure we’re too tired and burned out to fight!” Trixie shot back, pointing a hoof at Allie Way, and specifically the mark on her flank of two bowling pins, “Look, her talent is bowling for Celestia’s sake! You can’t expect her to learn this array magic so fast and easily! Even for a mare like Triixe, whose talent is magic, this is difficult!”

Coldiron grit her teeth and waved off Eldritch Dart, who looked as if he was about to smack Trixie. She felt like she could handle one uppity Heartlander mare, however, and had more than a few things to saw on the subject of the so-called “cutie marks” and their supposed “special talents”.

“You listen up, and listen up good, recruit, it doesn’t matter what that stupid picture on your precious little butt is or what you think it means! Nopony’s got a super special talent just because your Princess Celestia cast a spell on your whole damned population to brand you as hers! You can’t use those pictures to gauge your abilities. You don’t know what you’re capable of until you try, and that’s all I’m doing here, forcing your lazy, privileged asses to try so that maybe you don’t die out here, or get somepony else killed!”

Feeling like she’d made her point she turned away from Trixie and looked at Allie Way, who’d stopped crying, at least, to look fearfully at Coldiron. Coldiron tried to put on what she hoped was an encouraging look as she said, “Now come on, Allie Way was it? I know you’re scared, tired, and all that, but I need you to keep working at these arrays. It’ll save your life, if you can get it right.”

Before Allie Way could respond one way or another, however, Trixie’s angry voice spoke with deliberate slowness, “Take. That. Back.”

Coldiron, not even wanting to dignify the other mare by looking her way, said, “Take what back?”

“Cutie Marks. What you said about them. Take it back.”

“What? That they’re useless, meaningless butt-brands? Is that what you want me to take back?” Coldiron taunted, turning to face Trixie…

… just in time to get full body tackled by the other mare, who’d thrown herself at Coldiron like a crazed, berserk wolven.

“Cuite marks are not meaningless!” Trixie screamed, eyes wild as she tried battering at Coldiron’s body. It was little more than unskilled flailing, but there was a lot of fury fueling the strikes, so while Coldiron had little difficulty slipping into her Legion training to deflect most of the blows she knew she’d be getting a few bruises out of this. However, that was all she’d be getting, as she quickly turned the tables.

Her hind legs came back, braced, and with a solid kick pushed Trixie’s lighter body right off of her. Trixie landed with a huff, a whoosh of air leaving her lungs, and before the blue showmare could recover Coldiron was back on her own hooves, her horn alight. Magic pressed down on Trixie’s head, forcing it to the dirt and force her eyes downward so she’d lack any line of sight to Coldiron to use her own magic. Trixie grunted and shouted, pushing against the magic holding her down, but Coldiron was much more practiced with magic used to deal with threats than Trixie was at wriggling free of such spells.

Still, Trixie indeed did have some tricks up her sleeve. Even as Eldritch Dart was moving to secure her further Trixie let loose a spell of her own that created a cloud of blue smoke. With Coldiron also losing her line of sight she couldn’t maintain her spell on Trixie. She swore under her breath and quickly used her own magic to call up a gust of wind to blow the smoke away. It was a spell a number of Legion ponies in the Western Barrier Lands learned as this region was renowned for its heavy mists and fogs, which ursans were known to use to hide their movements or set up ambushes.

When the blue smoke cleared Trixie, surprisingly, handing moved. She sat on her haunches, glaring at Coldiron, but clearly she was trying to control herself, using one hoof to grip her other tightly.

“You done?” Coldiron asked.

Trixie glowered, looking away, “You had… you had no right to say that! You don’t know anything about cutie marks or what they mean to us! Trixie’s mark… Trixie’s mark is not meaningless! Nopony’s cutie mark is!”

“Corporal, should I go report this?” asked Eldritch Dart, glancing at her. The scuffle had drawn some attention, but the practicing unicorns were so spread out, to allow room in case of magical mishaps and accidents, that few had really seen what had transpired, and with Counter Charge working with the earth ponies the Sergeant wouldn’t know unless either Coldiron or Eldritch Dart reported the incident.

Scuffles between Legion ponies weren’t uncommon, so the punishment was usually light. Latrine duty at worst. Coldiron didn’t think it was worth it, so she shook her head.

“No, don’t bother, just take over my group for a sec, I want to sort this out,” she said, and Eldritch Dart nodded, going over to collect Allie Way and the other pony, taking them over to his own group and leaving Coldiron with Trixie.

Trixie continued to glare at her and Coldiron met that glare with a hard stare of her own. Slowly she approached Trixie, until the two were nearly snout to snout.

“Okay, you want to think that mark on you means something, that’s your business,” Coldiron said, “If nothing else you just proved to me you have some fire underneath all that shrill whining. But don’t think you’re something special just because of that mark. Those special talents didn’t save the lives of any of those Heartlanders who died yesterday, or the Legion ponies who also bought it. It won’t save you, or anypony else, in the fights to come if you rely on the rules and presumptions of your life back in the Heartland. I don’t care if you like me. I don’t care if you think I’m full of it! I’m going to train you and every other Heartlander here the same, so maybe, just maybe, we’ll survive. Or if we don’t, which not going to lie is the more likely outcome, we’ll at least die with something resembling honor.”

Trixie was silent for a long, slow couple of moments, before she stood up on all four legs and said, “Honor? Do you think anypony who died out there was thinking about ‘honor’ as those monsters tore them apart? But whatever, Trixie understands now. You Legion ponies don’t actually care, as long as we fight and die like we’re told. Trixie is just going to have to make sure she doesn’t die, or that any of Trixie’s new friends die either! And certainly not for something as meaningless as ‘honor’.”

Coldiron felt her blood run hot at those words and every instinct she had told her to knock this arrogant mare’s block off! But that wouldn’t help matters, and Coldiron didn’t much care what Trixie thought as long as the other unicorn did her part like all the rest.

“If you’re going to make any of that count for real, then you’d better show me you can be part of an array,” Coldiron said, lighting up her horn, “Because that’s the only way you’ll have to make a difference and make sure neither you or anypony unfortunate enough to chose you as a friend is going to survive.”

Trixie smirked, her own horn lighting up, “Trixie will do just that, then! She’ll show you what a Heartlander mare is capable of! And if she does make an array with you, then you’ll come with Trixie to visit Blossomforth at the hospital. Deal?”

Coldiron rolled her eyes, “Fine. Now shut up and get to work. Your third person talk is giving me a headache.”

“Well, what’s the word Alpine?” asked Counter Charge after she took a long drink from her waterskin as the afternoon ended and the sky started to turn into brilliant shades of violet and crimson as the sun dipped behind the teeth of the mountains to the west. She and Alpine were sitting together at the base of the earthen embankment near Beartrap Fortress’ west gate, gazing at the forest beyond the river with its tall trees looking like shadowing sentinels in the deepening evening gloom.

“Not a total loss,” Alpine replied, stretching her legs and haunches, her tail shaking about and her wings going through a series of snaps and pops as she bent them at odd angles that Counter Charge thought looked painful but apparently helped pegasi keep the tendons limber, “I think if they had about six months to a year to train and gradually get used to things that most of these Heartlanders will make fine Legionnaires. At least the pegasi I’m working with seem to have a natural grasp of the group tactics involved with lance work. They get how to team up. The violence is a catch for them, and I can tell most of them are scared pissless, but then again remember how we were back in the day, Counter? Remember that first fight?”

Counter charge slowly nodded, smiling and shaking her head, “I remember. We were patrolling south of Skywoad Keep, checking out the valleys for signs of bandits.”

“And instead we walked right into an ursan raid. Reminds me a lot of what happened a few days ago. Damn ursans can be stealthy bastards for being so big. I swear I left a yellow trail in the snow everwhere I flew that day, I was so damned terrified.”

“We made it through,” Counter Charge said, giving the other mare a nudge on the shoulder, “I seem to recall you saving my flank as well, getting your lance caught in an ursans jaw.”

“Ha, yeah! Except the ursan didn’t die from that and then started snapping at me!” said Alpine with a self deprecating grin, “Pretty sure I didn’t do more than piss it off.”

“Distracted it, too,” said Counter Charge, “More than long enough for me and a couple others to get our blades and crossbows to work on taking it down.”

“As per usual,” groused Alpine, “We pegasi set up the kills but you earth ponies get all the glory! At least the unicorns have to share their kills between everypony in those fancy arrays of theirs.”

The two mares shared a laugh, though it was a subdued one. They both went silent, looking out at the dark forest, like an unending green ocean that went nearly to the tops of the monolithic wall of mountains that dominated the horizon. After a minute Alpine sighed.

“You think we’ve got a chance, Counter? I mean, if the rumors I’m hearing are true and there is that big an ursan force out there… how long can we hold out here? Beartrap Fortress ain’t exactly at full strength, and even if we were…”

“Alpine, it’s bad,” Counter Charge said, “Won’t say its otherwise. Wish the Captain would let me tell the draftees, but he thinks it’d just scare them more. Personally I think they ought to know our odds going in so they can brace for it. I’m worried they’ll break if they see a full on army of a thousand ursans set to hit us here. They nearly broke against ten.”

“But they didn’t,” said Alpine, “They did good getting here, and I think they can do good in the next fight. As good as they can, anyway. I’m more worried about all of us together just not being enough. I’ll do my duty, you know that Counter, but if there’s one thing I hate it’s a lost cause. Is the Captain sure about sticking it out here?”

Counter Charge glanced at Alpine, “He is. What else can we do?”

“Fall back to Arrow Vale, join up with the townsfolk and fortify the town to make a stronger stand. Or just fall back further to Skywoad Keep…”

“And leave every farmstead, lumber village, and smaller settlement from Arrow Vale down to Skywoad Keep open to the ursans?”

Alpine shrugged, “Those villages will be just as open if we all die here trying to hold the ursans back in a fight we can’t win.”

“We don’t know if we can’t win until our snouts hit the grindstone,” Counter Charge said, “So I suggest keeping those thoughts to yourself for now.”

“I know, I know… it’s weird though, isn’t it? In so long the ursans have never gotten together in such a big horde. That’s more a wolven thing. And they rarely ever attack this far north. So what’s changed? What’s got them riled up?”

Counter Charge now took her turn to shrug, “No way to know. Maybe it was just a matter of time.”

“Maybe…” Alpine said, frowning, eyes staring at the distant dark forest, “But I just got a weird feeling, is all. Like we’ve got eyes on us. Especially the last few nights, it’s like the fort itself isn’t… ah I don’t know. Guess I’m just talking out my tailfeathers.”

“Sounds like you need to sleep more,” Counter Charge said, “How about you hit the sack early tonight, I’ll take over working the recruits through the evening physical training.”

“Sounds good to me,” Alpine said with a yawn and taking to the air with a few lazy flaps of her wings, “G’night Sarge. Don’t run those poor ponies too ragged.”

Counter Charge watched her go, only turning back to look at the distant forest across the Bear Bones river after Alpine had gone from sight. Counter Charge intended to take it only as easy as she could afford to on the draftees. They had to learn the basics faster than perhaps few recruits in the history of the Legion would need to learn if they were to have any chance of surviving the coming battles. Gazing at that massive, dark forest beyond the river Counter Charge almost felt as if she could feel them out there, the ursans.

Or was it something else she was feeling? Some other source for the strange chill down her spine? Alpine had just said something about there being eyes out there, watching. Counter Charge couldn’t deny she had a similar feeling.

She shrugged it off. Just nerves, likely.

As she returned through the fortress gates, the huge wood barricade being rolled into place behind her, Counter Charge didn’t notice the way a shadowy, black form skittered along the bottom of the ridge where she’d been sitting, disappearing into one of the many spike pits dug across the incline.

Trixie was exhausted, but she didn’t let that stop her from trotting across the fortress grounds after training for the day was done, making her way towards the hospital. Coldiron was trotting next to her, and they were joined by Coco Pommel.

“Not that Trixie cares, but why are you coming along?” Trixie asked Coco.

Coco looked startled for a second, but then smiled with a sheepish glance at Coldiron, “I just like to meet new ponies, and this Blossomforth sounds nice. We’re all comrades now, so we ought to all get to know each other.”

Coldiron cast a quick glance at the other two mares, “I’m only doing this now because you did manage to form a proper array today, and that was our deal. I keep my word.”

Trixie looked between the pair, shrugging, then regretting the action as her sore, aching muscles protested even that simple gesture. She hung her head, and resisted the urge to try and wipe sweat and dirt out of her mane. She knew without anything resembling proper grooming materials on hoof she was going to be looking a proper mess before the week was out. Even if she did survive her tenure in the Legion she imagined it’d take months of work to get her proper showmare looks back up to snuff.

Her mood was brightened a bit by the prospect of visiting Blossomforth and presenting Coldiron alive and well to the injured pegasus. That ought to cheer Blossomforth up, not that the mare ever seemed to need much of that. Still, Trixie liked the idea of keeping her one friend among the Legion in good spirits.

They were just crossing the dirt road the encircled the inner keep of the fort, heading for the dim orange torch lights dotting the side of the hospital building, when Coco suddenly stopped in her tracks. Coldiron stopped as well, though Trixie got a few more trotting steps ahead before she noticed and turned back.

“What is it? Trixie does not like delays,” she said, eyeing Coco, who was starring off into the dark with a strange, intense look in her eyes.

“Something’s out there,” Coco said simply, her pale blue eyes narrowing slightly and her mouth turning in a worried frown.

Coldiron looked skeptical for a second, but also held a serious cast to her features as she said, “Are you certain? Where?”

Coco nodded towards the west gate, just a little south of it, near where the wall met the barracks building, “I know I saw something moving over there. I don’t know what. It wasn’t a pony.”

Trixie looked in that direction but saw only shadows. The sky was half obscured by a rolling bank of clouds, the moon partially blocked by wisps of smoky gray on black. The stars that could be seen, along with the moon, provided some light, along with the numerous torches lining the walls and buildings, but for the most part that just meant the shadows in the fort moved and fickered more like the breaths of a creature.

“Trixies sees nothing,” she said, “There are guards on the wall anyway; surely they’d see anything that’d try to get over. Let’s get to the hospital.”

“Wait,” said Coldiron, “It can’t hurt to check in with the guards over there. Blossomforth isn’t going anywhere. Come on.”

The way she said it made it clear the Corporal wasn’t asking. Trixie heaved out a sigh as she followed the other two mares as they advanced to where Coco had supposedly seen something. There was a small space, almost akin to the back alleys in Canterlot, between the barracks and the wall. As they approached there was a challenging call from above.

“Hail and who goes?”

“Corporal Coldiron and recruits Coco Pommel and Trixie Lulamoon,” said Coldiron back, “Have you anything to report?”

“No, Corporal, all quiet here,” replied the voice. Trixie couldn’t tell if the shadowy pony form up on the wall was unicorn, pegasus, or earth pony.

Coldiron merely saluted, “Very well, carry on, but be alert. Recruit Pommel has reported seeing unusual movement over here.”

“Probably just shadows,” said the pony from up top, “These recruits are jumpy as grasshoppers.”

Coldiron didn’t reply, instead giving Coco a look and nodding towards the alley, “Let’s do a quick sweep.”

Trixie channeled some magic to light up her horn, “If we’re to do this then Trixie will shed some light upon the matter.”

They trotted down the alley, all glancing around. The shadows enclosed around them despite Trixie’s spell, almost as if the deep night resisted the notion of there being anything that could push it back. Trixie felt a strange nervousness. It felt as if the back of her neck was being touched by little needles of ice. She knew this feeling. In memories of travel she’d felt it before; the feeling of a predator nearby. Timber wolves had given it too her… so had the Ursa Minor just moments before it’d stomped into Ponyville.

“Something isn’t right,” said Coco, her frown deepening as she looked left and right, “I can feel it.”

Coldiron sighed, “I feel a bit out of sorts as well, but feelings don’t matter much if we can’t find anything concrete. I’m not going to report to the Sergeant that we’re all jumping at shadows.”

“Wait,” said Coco, bending down to examine something near the base of the wall, almost at the far end of the alley, “There's something here. What is this?”

Coldiron and Trixie gathered on either side of Coco to take a look at what the earth pony had found. When they did they ended up exchanging looks, Coldiron looking concerned and confused, and Trixie looking quiet bewildered. Trixie had never seen anything quite like it, herself.

White strands of a sticky, rope-like substance, like a steel cable or perhaps a cord made from silk? But the consistency wasn't right, with little bits and strands of it hanging off the main piece, and it stuck to the wall as if they were...

“Spider web?” Trixie asked, utterly at a loss to explain the sheer size of the strands, and suddenly a lot more afraid.

Author's Note

Time to introduce a little more about our antagonists. Which is the bigger threat to our heroines? The clear and present danger of the ursans, or the mysterious danger hiding in the shadows? Had a lot of this chapter already written before I posted the last one so that's why its here so quick. Next one might take a bit longer, but I'm hoping to manage one of these about every two weeks. We'll see how well I do with that schedule.

Chapter 5: Arrow Vale

Chapter 5: Arrow Vale

“Spiderweb?” Captain Runeward inquired with a bemused raise of one thick eyebrow.

“I know it sounds odd, sir,” said Coldiron, who stood at rigid attention next to Trixie and Coco. The trio were meeting with the aged Captain in his office, the morning after their strange discovery, “There isn’t much else I can think of to describe what we found. The strands were sticky, yet silky, near exactly what it feels like to touch a normal spider’s webbing, only these strands were the size of a coil of solid rope.”

“I see. And you found nothing else?”

“No sir. We made a thorough sweep of the area and even double checked other areas of the fort, but we didn’t find anything else out of the ordinary,” Coldiron said in a clipped, steady tone, “I made sure to inform the head of the nightly watch before making my report to Sergeant Counter Charge. “

“Hmm,” Runeward turned his steady gaze onto Trixie and Coco, “And which of you was it that first claimed to have seen something?”

Coco hesitated a moment before coming forward, doing her best to stand at proper attention, “That would be me, um, sir. I’m certain I saw a shadowy shape moving around the wall of the fort, and I’m certain that whatever I saw it wasn’t a pony… oh, uh, sir.”

At her bashful look Runeward merely raised a hoof, “At ease. While I compliment your enthusiastic vigilance I think this is merely a case of stress and jitters.”

Coldiron’s eyes flickered with a hint of anxiety as she said, “Sir, whether recruit Pommel saw anything or not, those strands we found are real. You could examine them yourself if you want.”

“I already have,” he said, standing and slowly walking around his desk to stand before the three mares, “While I admit it does look much like spiderweb I see no reason for concern. It might very well be the webbing of a spider, but merely several normal ones forming a collective web. If there were spiders out there that were abnormally large you’d think the Legion would have encountered them by now, after all.”

Coldiron grimaced, not sure if she should bring up what she was thinking. It’d sound ridiculous and would make her sound like a scared foal… but she couldn't help herself. Her intuition said there was something more to this than just a few normal spiders happening to weave an unusual web, and though she’d only known Coco a short time she found she also trusted that mare’s intuition as well. She didn’t think Coco had been seeing mere shadows. Besides, this reminded her of something from long ago.

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied with a warm, grandfatherly smile.

“While you may well be right and this is nothing, I don’t think we should dismiss this. There’s… well I’m sure you’ve heard the old stories of the Lurkers in the Woods,” she began, and Runeward laughed.

“Those tales? Mere campfire fancy. Horror stories to keep foals in their beds. A Legionnaire should not concern herself with imaginary terrors, as we’ve enough real ones to deal with without our imaginations adding to our number of foes.”

“Excuse me,” said Trixie suddenly, “But Trixie has seen a giant star bear that she thought was just a story come to life in front of her once, and it smashed her wagon like kindling. Sometimes stories have a bad way of coming true…er, sir?”

Runeward cast a stony look Trixie’s way, which did cause her to flinch, but she held the old stallion’s stare, and eventually he turned back to Coldiron, “Are you proposing, Corporal, that there may be some truth to the old tales of the monsters that haunt the woods of the Western Barrier Lands?”

“I don’t know sir. I only know that the stories never specifically state what the Lurkers in the Woods are, only that they’re deadly, unseen shadows that snatch the unwary sentry or the wandering foal. Anypony who wanders too far from hearth or platoon in the dead of night, who finds themselves alone with only the dark trees as company… well the Lurkers come and take them away. There have been incidents…”

“Rare,” Runeward said, “Every now and again a sentry might go missing or a pony from a village might vanish, but that could easily be attributed to ursan raids, or even ponies getting lost in the woods and dying of exposure. We don’t need shadowy monsters to account for such rare missing ponies.”

“True, but…” Coldiron trailed off as she wrestled with her memory. It’d been so long ago, and her sense of pride didn’t want to make her sound like a frightened foal in front of her commanding officer, but she had seen something, once.

“When I was young,” she began, “Just a year before I joined the Legion, I actually did get lost outside Arrow Vale. I’d gone looking for some berries to help my father make a special pie for when mother would come home from leave, but the berry bushes I normally picked had already been picked clean by others, so I had to range further afield than I had before. I ended up losing track of where I was. It turned dark before I could find any landmarks to find my way back home. I spent the night out there, in the forest just south of the town. That night I… well I know this will sound like the scared imaginings of a young pony, but I swear I saw something. I had been looking for shelter and came upon a cave, only this cave… well it was covered in strands almost identical to the ones we found last night by the wall. Before I went in I heard a skittering noise, and I saw eyes…”

Coldiron shook her head, shivering a but at the memory, “Gleaming eyes, eight of them. I ran, of course. I didn’t look back, I just ran, for half the night. When morning came I found myself not far from the road between here and Arrow Vale and used it to get back home. Father was furious, but also relieved to have me back, and I didn’t bother telling the story of the cave. Didn’t want to embarrass myself further.”

Runeward nodded slowly, “A chilling account. Are you saying then, that you believe the tales of the Lurkers? That there are giant spiders that hide in the forests of the Western Barrier Lands, and that we just haven’t had any solid accounts, bodies found, or violent encounters between Legion soldiers and this spiders, despite constant patrols against the ursans?”

Coldiron sighed, “I’m sorry sir, I know it sounds crazy. I suppose if there really were giant spiders out there we would have found them by now.”

“Unless they were intentionally staying hidden and avoiding contact,” said Trixie with a shrug, “It’s not hard to obscure the truth from an audience with the right tricks up your sleeves, and what species could be better at hiding than spiders? Trixie thinks this bears further investigation.”

“Noted, recruit, but we have more immediate and real problems to deal with,” said Runeward, going back behind his desk and sitting down, “Now aside from wishing to hear your own personal account of last night I called you in here, specifically you Corporal Coldiron, because I have a mission for you.”

Coldiron immediately forgot her own doubts concerning the veracity of her own story and the events of last night and stood more stiffly, “Sir.”

“Since Beartrap Fortress is lacking in proper forces to withstand an attack I’ve been considering methods to boost our chances. Reinforcements from the more southern forts will be a long time in arriving, but it is possible a closer source of help can be found. Specifically your own hometown, Arrow Vale. I want you to assemble a small squad from the Heartlander recruits and proceed to the town. I want you to use both your own connection to the town and the example of our Heartlander draftees to see if you can convince any volunteers from the town to come to the fort to aid in its defense.”

Coldiron was quiet for a moment. She had not been home since her last leave the previous year, and the thought of seeing her father and older brother again warmed her, but she also felt a stab of worry. The citizens of Arrow Vale were a hearty, tough folk, and certainly were brave… but Coldiron knew well how stubborn the ponies of her hometown could be. If there was one thing an Arrow Vale pony hated, it was being told what to do. Really kind of a miracle any of them joined the Legion, but then again her father was a native of the town while her mother had been from elsewhere, only marrying her father after Arrow Vale had been protected from an ursan raid. She’d joined the Legion to honor her mother, and her father had actually… well he hadn’t necessarily liked the decision.

“I will carry out this mission to the best of my abilities, sir,” she said finally.

“Very good. I look forward to having more ponies like you here at the fort, Corporal,” Runeward said with a salute, which Coldiron, Trixie, and Coco returned, the latter two somewhat awkwardly.

Outside his office was just a short jaunt down some stairs to the bottom of the inner keep of the fort, which was a large central hall lined with arrow slits for side chambers that could be used to create a bottleneck in the event of an enemy breaking through the keep’s sturdy main doors. Once the mares were outside Coldiron paused, glancing back at Coco and Trixie.

“I need to get a squad together of you Heartlanders,” she told to the two, “Squad size varies by its task, but a loose number is four to five. I… well, I’ll be blunt. Lulamoon, I may not like you, but I acknowledge you have some skill. Pommel, you’re perhaps the only Heartlander I’ve met so far that I’d fully trust at my back in a fight. So if you two are willing I’d like you both to be part of this squad.”

Trixie blinked, surprised. Coldiron didn’t blame her. Just the other day Trixie had been at Coldiron’s throat over Legion training methods and Coldiron’s remarks over the Heartlander’s cutie marks; marks that the ponies of the Legion lacked because they hadn’t grown up under the field of Celestia’s special magic. Coldiron also suspected Trixie carried no small amount of resentment towards the Legion over the draft itself. But ultimately that didn’t matter to Coldiron. As she’d said, she didn’t like Trixie, but she’d be a fool to ignore the other unicorn’s skill with magic, even if it wasn’t focused on the traditional evocation spells favored by the Legion. Trixie had shown she could form an array, even with just one other unicorn, and that was a skill Coldiron could use.

As for Coco, Coldiron had seen the mare kill an ursan in her first battle. Coco seemed mild mannered, but there was a burning flame inside her that Coldiron found admirable. They’d both make good Legionnaires, given time, and if she had to form of squad from the draftee’s both of these mares were first picks in Coldiron’s view.

“I…” Trixie stammered, then caught herself, holding her head high, “Trixie supposes she can lend you her impressive talents, since you’ve so humbly requested her help. Though Trixie is surprised you bother asking. Isn't it more akin to Legion practice to command instead of ask.”

Coldiron sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, “I could make it an order, if you’d prefer, but I’m trying to meet you halfway here, Lulamoon. We don’t have to like each other but I want us to be able to work together, if for no other reason than so that we both better serve the Legion.”

Trixie seemed to consider that for a moment, let out a small snort, but nodded, “Very well, Trixie can… accept that.”

Coldiron turned her eyes to Coco, “And you, Pommel?”

“I’d be happy to be a part of your squad, Coldiron,” Coco said, tilting her head in a small nod, her eyes closing with a gentle smile.

“Good to hear,” Coldiron said, glancing away as she thought, “I don’t know who else to pick, though. We need at least one more pony for a minimum sized squad...”

A faint voice called out from across the fort, “Hey! Guys! Trixie!”

Coldiron, apparently not hearing the voice, kept talking to herself, “Ideally a pegasus, to round out the squad with somepony who can scout ahead…”

“Look at me, I’m out of the hospital!” cried the voice, and Trixie and Coco exchanged looks as they watched the pegasus mare who was making the racket flying at them while Coldiron continued to talk to herself.

“I’d at least want a mare I knew could handle herself and not panic if we ran into ursans again.”

“Ahem,” Trixie cleared her throat and pointed, causing Coldiron to finally break out of her musings and look over her shoulder, just in time to duck as Blossomforth buzzed overhead.

Blossomforth adjusted her flight rapidly, twisting her body in an almost impossible looking angle as she halted mid-air, flipped around, and hovered upside down in front of the other three mares.

“Hiya guys!”

Trixie smiled, “Good to see you’re doing so well. That stuffy doctor let you out, then?”

“Oh, you mean Quick Needle? He’s not stuffy, he’s nice! Said I was all healed up, and with that magic of his I really do feel one hundred percent better!”

As if to prove it Blossomforth did another aerial flip, twisting and contorting her legs in a manner that made Coldiron at once feel a tad queasy and a tad… embarrassed. Flexibility like that could be an asset in a lot of… situations. Coldiron did not the slight wince on Blossomforth’s features after she was done with her flip, though. Coldiron had met this mare last night once the report on finding the sticky strands had finished, though the visit had been brief on Quick Needle’s insistence.

“You do seem well,” Coldiron said, “And I trust Quick Needle’s judgment. If he says you’re clear for duty then I won’t question it.”

Trixie was giving her a strange look, blinking at her, then flicking her eyes towards Blossomforth, then waggling her eyebrows. Coldiron frowned, hoping she’d never have to rely on this mare using Legion hoof signals. Still, she got the gist of what Trixie was suggesting.

“Recruit Blossomforth, if you’re feeling well, perhaps you’re up for a mission?”

The road to Arrow Vale was half frozen in the cold morning air as the four mares left Beartrap Fortress’ east gate. Each carried full saddlebags of provisions and gear, and were appropriately armed and armored for the trip. Coco Pommel didn’t feel right in the full chain-mail suit she’d been given to wear, the fine iron chain links much heavier than the recruit leather’s she’d been wearing before, and the links kept getting caught in her coat. Even heavier was the arrangement on her back. A thick leather harness connected the large crossbow on her back, which actually poked somewhat over her right shoulder with its tip. A brass monocle-like arrangement extended from the side and upwards, a crude sight for the weapon. On her left hip was a huge quiver filled with the bolts the crossbow fired, large shafts of wood tipped with wicked iron spikes.

“I’d be more comfortable with a sword,” she said before they’d reached the treeline to the east.

“It can’t be helped,” Coldiron said, “The claymore you used in the fight wasn’t yours, but scavenged off of one of our dead, and has already been assigned to another Legionnaire. Those blades are in short supply at the fort already, but we’ve plenty of the heavy crossbows. You need to get used to the weapon anyway, since you’ll be using it regularly from now on. I know you can handle a sword alright, and I’ll be the first to vouch for you when the time comes to assign you to proper field squads so you can be part of a claymore unit, but for now just learn to be comfortable with that crossbow.”

“I think it looks kind of cool,” said Blossomforth as she flew alongside them. She was wearing light leather armor, a bit thicker than the recruit coat, and carried a spear as she had during the fight days ago, “Way cooler than a spear, but I guess normal crossbows don’t work good on them ursans.”

“At least you two get useful weapons,” Trixie muttered, “Trixie only gets this silly dagger. What good will that be against those terrible bear monsters?”

“The dagger is more a tool than a weapon,” Coldiron said, “A sword doesn't do a unicorn much good against an ursan, unless you’re strong enough with magic to hold a claymore, and if you’re that strong in magic you’re better off using spells in an array than trying to fight an ursan in melee. In the Legion we fight as a unit, each pony doing their part. It’s not about glory.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, “Trixie isn’t interested in Legion glory either. She just wants a backup in case her powerful magic happens to not be enough to keep an ursan away.”

“In that case you’re best bet is to run,” Coldiron said simply, “Unless there’s nowhere to run to, in which case, perhaps you can annoy the ursan to death with your banal tone.”

“C’mon guys, no fighting,” said Blossomforth, “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s enjoy the walk!”

“We need to be alert,” said Coldiron, “Remember that there could easily be ursans out here. Blossomforth, I want you to stick just above the treeline. Not too high that you can be spotted, but high enough that you can range ahead for trouble.”

“Right, right, on it,” Blossomforth said and flew ahead a bit, skimming the top of the trees as she kept about fifty paces ahead of the other three.

Coco Pommel watched her go, sort of sympathizing. It was a nice day. Cold, but with a clear blue sky of pure azure above, with nary a cloud in sight to mar it. Clestia’s sun had risen just above the east horizon and was bathing the land in its warm, golden glow. Coco reflected that where this a, well, ‘normal’ day back home she’d have been up for an hour or two by now taking care of morning chores, and would have been taking a breakfast break at a local café and enjoying the morning buzz of Manehattan before going to Suri’s shop for another day’s work. Peaceful, quiet… no threat of horrible monsters, bear shaped or otherwise, that might tear her or her friends to pieces.

She’d thought she had it rough dealing with Suri’s trying personality. Right now Coco would’ve given anything to be back in Manehatten getting yelled at by her often unpleasant boss. But then again she now knew that if she was back home living her peaceful life there’d still be ponies out here fighting and dying to protect her.

Coco Pommel didn’t think it was right, or fair, but she wanted to do what she could to make the wrongness of this strange new world right. It seemed crazy, because she’d heard these wars with the ursans, the wolf-like wolven to the north, and the reptilian ophidian’s to the south, had been going on for a long time, since even before Princess Luna’s decent into Nightmare Moon. How could she, just one little seamstress from Manehattan hope to end a cycle that’d been going on for more than a thousand years?

But that was what she hoped for. That hope helped keep her legs strong as she trotted alongside Coldiron and Trixie, and kept her alert as she watched for danger amid the tall pine trees that surrounded the road they trotted upon.

She practiced working the loading mechanism on her crossbow as they walked. It was a little awkward but she found she could easily enough reach a bolt and set it in the loading slot with just some bending of her neck. The crank to pull back the bow itself was mounted on a apparatus on her chest. Once a bolt was loaded she just had to reach down and work the crank with her mouth, three quick turns, to properly set the bolt. Then it was just a matter of aiming with the monocle that she could flip out to hover in front of her face and hit the trigger on the right side of the crossbow with her hoof to fire.

She had to admit it was impressive somepony had invented such a weapon. The Royal Guard back home just used normal spears. Coco’s spirit dampened a bit when she thought that it was unfortunate somepony had to invent a weapon like this.

“Coldiron,” she asked, many hours into their trek, “Why do they do it? The ursans, and the others. Why do they fight the Legion?”

Coldiron glanced at her, and Trixie gave her an interested look. Coldiron grimaced, her brown mane bristling slightly.

“The reasons differ,” the Legion mare said, “The wolven are predators through and through, and hunt ponies purely for the sake of food. They don’t care that what they hunt are intelligent creatures, wolven consider all other forms of life simply prey. The ophidians are an empire of slavers. They capture ponies not for food, though they indulge in our flesh when it suits them, but rather to have slaves to build their cities, serve in their palaces, and fight, race, and compete for their amusement. There are entire families of ponies who have been born, bred, and raised as slaves in the ophidian lands. As for the ursans…”

She spat, a dark glower on her features, “They fight for the least reason of all. Ursans crave battle. It’s in their blood. They fight because it’s what’s in their nature. If they didn’t fight us, they’d fight each other. They don’t even try to hold territory, or plunder goods. They just kill, for the sake of the killing.”

It wasn’t what Coco had hoped to hear. She thought back to the ursan attack, and the rage boiled inside her. She’d hoped somewhere in her heart that there’d been some kind of reason for such violence, for so many ponies to die horribly. To think that the ursans did it just for… the fun of it? It simply added to the pressure of hot anger inside her that she tried hard to keep from showing on her face.

“Hmph, I somehow doubt that’s true,” said Trixie, suddenly. Coldiron turned a sharp look towards the other unicorn.

“What makes you think that, Lulamoon? You think I don’t know ursans? I’ve fought them most my life.”

“I don’t doubt you believe what you say,” said Trixie, “There is probably some truth to it as well. However if the ursans were so mindlessly violent then they couldn’t even work together. As you said, they’d fight each other, probably to extinction. Trixie knows well how the truth can be a subjective thing. It stands to reason the ursans have reasons to fight that go beyond simply a need to fight. Though if it was… well, that could prove useful in and of itself.”

“What are you prattling about?” Coldiron asked.

“Simply that if ursans just want to fight, then why not get them to fight someone other than the Legion?” asked Trixie, “Like, say, these wolven you speak of? You’d think it’d be easy enough to just say ‘Hey, you like to fight? Well here’s a whole bunch of wolf things that just love to eat ponies, so maybe you can do us a favor and come fight them? We’ll even pack your bags for the trip!’”

Coldiron snorted, “As if we hadn’t tried diplomacy before. If it was as easy as just talking to them don’t you think we’d have done it by now?”

“Have you ever seriously tried?” asked Trixie.

“In case you weren’t paying attention, Lulamoon, our last encounter with ursans didn’t leave much room for dialogue! That’s how every encounter with ursans go. Now be quiet. We’re making too much noise as it is.”

The conversation petered out and Coco regretted she’d brought the topic up, but it’d been eating at her since the battle. She desperately wanted there to be some kind of sensible reason for all of this, or to feel justified in her growing… ill will towards the ursans. She didn’t even want to admit that it was hatred that was starting to take root in her. Justified or not, Coco didn’t want that feeling inside her. But it was there, and it was growing.

They walked through the entire day, passing through the craggy hills near the fort into a large, wide valley. The forest here was thinner, broken up by patches of thick, tall grass, and rocky hillocks. Coldiron somewhat relaxed, as once they were out of the thick forests the terrain became less suitable for ambush and Blossomforth’s ability to see the land around them increased tenfold. The road winded about a bit more between the hillocks, but none were very tall. In the far, distant east Coco could see the smaller chain of mountains that separated the Barrier Lands from the Heartland. Beyond them was Equestria. She wondered how things were going there.

They saw the occasional distant smoke trail in the sky, which Coldiron explained were from the farmsteads that dotted this area. Apparently her father ran such a farmstead, closer to Arrow Vale itself. The town was still a day away, and they likely wouldn’t reach it until the next morning, which meant camping out here in the valley lands.

After hearing Coldiron’s story about the Lurkers in the Woods and what she’d seen last night Coco wasn’t keen on spending the night out in the open, but she supposed that with three other armed mares with her she shouldn’t need to worry. Still, her nervousness increased as the daylight faded and the sun dipped behind the much larger mountains to the west, bathing the world in murky purple shades of twilight.

Blossomforth flew down to the group, wiping some sweat off her brow as she landed, folding her wings against her sides.

“Alright, getting dark enough that I can’t see much of anything, so hope you don’t mind me coming down, boss lady,” Blossomforth said with a tired smile.

“It’s Corporal, and yes, its fine, I was just about to call you down,” Coldiron said, her eyes surveying the area around them, “We’ll set up camp soon. That copse of trees ought to do.”

She nodded towards a collection of a score or so of pines hugging a low hillock to the right of the right, less than a hundred paces ahead. Coco thought it looked a tad… dark and ominous, but she didn’t question Coldiron. Trixie, on the other hoof…

“Wouldn’t it be easy for something to sneak up on us from those trees?” asked Trixie.

“Yes, but it’s just as easy for us to use it to hide from view. It’ll keep the light of our campfire from being seen, mostly.”

“What about the smoke?” asked Blossomorth.

“There’s a method to make a fire that won’t give off much smoke,” Coldiron said, “I’ll show you recruits how, as it’s an invaluable skill for survival.”

The type of fire in question apparently involved the digging of two separate pits, connected by a small tunnel filled with brush that filtered out smoke from the spit with the fire to the other pit that let out a thinner, harder to spot smoke. Especially at night this thinner smoke trail would be all but impossible to spot. The four of them sat around the shallow fire pit after Trixie and Coco had gathered wood and Coldiron and Blossomforth had dug the pits. Dinner consisted of hard bread, cheese, and some dry vegetables. Hardly a juicy carrot-dog with mustard that Coco loved so much from the street vendors in Manehattan, but after a long day of walking the food went down so fast she hardy recalled eating.

“Well, what’d you girls chat about while I was busy watching the horizon for marauding bears?” asked Blossomforth, and at the sullen looks the pegasus mare chuckled sheepishly, “Bracing conversation was it? Right, so to lighten the mood we can swap cutie mark stories…”

At the glaring looks that Coldiron and Trixie exchanged at that Blossomforth gulped and said, “Or not… uhhh… well, Corporal, what’s your hometown like?”

Coldiron’s tension didn’t entirely dissipate but Coco saw the mare seem to take hold of herself and visibly clam, “It’s probably the largest community in the northernmost region of the Western Barrier Lands, with somewhere around five hundred ponies living in the town proper and easily a few hundred more living among the scattered farmsteads and smaller hamlets that could be considered part of the township. It’s headed by a mayor, currently Straight Lace, whose family has held that position for generations. The townsfolk are a tough lot, and heavily attached to their land and families. If the ursans come through here in force, Arrow Vale will fight hard for their land and won’t likely evacuate even if ordered to by the Legion.”

“Hehehe,” Blossomforth laughed, and quickly held up her hooves in a placating gesture at Coldiron’s hard look, “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, I mean, that’s kind of a dry description of your hometown. Don’t you have any stories about the place?”

“Not… really. Not anything that’s really what I think you’re looking for anyway,” said Coldiron, looking away, “I haven’t lived there in years, and there really isn’t much for me to say. Our mission is to seek volunteers to fight at Beartrap Fortress. I don’t see how telling you any stories about my foalhood there is going to help with that. To be honest I’m not expecting much from this. We might get a few ponies willing to join, but not many.”

Trixie laughed dryly at that, “Why not just draft them, if you want them to fight so badly? Isn't that what you did to us?”

Coldiron’s eyes briefly narrowed, but then she just solemnly nodded, “If Beartrap Fortress had the means I don’t doubt that Captain Runeward would have ordered a draft issued on Arrow Vale. The simple fact is, though, we don’t have the means to enforce a draft if we did issue one. The fort just doesn't have enough Legionnaires to spare for that. The Captain is hoping that diplomatic approach you were talking about earlier will work better.”

Trixie looked as if she was chewing on something sour as she lay down fully, propping her head on her folded forelegs, “Trixie sees. How lucky for the ponies of Arrow Vale they’ll have the luxury of choice, then.”

“Trixie, I don’t think is that simple,” said Blossomforth, “These ponies are in just as much danger as we are because of the ursans. I wouldn’t really call this choice a luxury. It’s either fight at the fort, or fight at the town. Either way they’re stuck fighting.”

A soft sigh escaped Trixie and a wince crossed her features, “Fine, fine, Trixie is sorry to have brought it up.”

“You know, I’ve been kind of curious,” said Coco, looking over at Coldiron, “The Legion has an alicorn ruler, right? Prince Terrato? Umm, why hasn’t he just taken care of all these horrible creatures that keep threatening ponies?”

The expression that came over Coldiron’s face was one of a mother having to explain the facts of life to a filly or colt who was just getting old enough to ask embarrassing questions. She rubbed one gray hoof on her chin in thought before saying, “The problem with the Prince trying to fight alongside the Legion is that, well, he did in the distant past. And it caused horrific casualties, on both sides of the battles. The reason for this that the ursans, wolven, and ophidians have their own incredibly powerful rulers whose strength match the Prince’s. When he would clash with these otherworldly titans the destruction was immense, and because he was so evenly matched with any one of them, he could never guarantee victory. The Prince created a… a agreement o sorts with the rulers of the other races to personally remain out of the conflicts as long as they too did not become personally involved in the battles. It’s been that way for generations. The Prince does sometimes direct a campaign, but by and large he leaves the day to day operations of the Legion to us mortal ponies.”

Trixie looked like she was about to say something, apparently thought better of it, and laid her head back down. Coco on the other hoof was still curious.

“Okay, I suppose that kind of makes sense, but… but if there are three alicorns in the world, Prince Terrato, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, then why didn’t all three of them fight together to defeat these other rulers? If the Prince could match any one of them, like you said, then couldn’t he, along with the Princesses, completely overwhelm any one of these other rulers?”

Coldiron’s visage darkened, and she stared at the fire pit, “And there, Pommel, is exactly where some of the Legion’s long held ire for the Heartland comes from. Because you’re right. If Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had stood side by side with their brother against the rulers of the other races, they probably could have prevented generations of war. The Legion would not have needed to exist. But Princess Celestia was… unwilling to fight. According to our lore she detested bloodshed so much she refused to fight, despite the Prince’s urging, and it was Princess Celestia that created the Heartland, taking a number of Chosen ponies to live inside her magical barrier… and leaving my ancestors to fight on, alone.”

Trixie this time didn’t remain silent, “Sounds a bit like propaganda to Trixie. Perhaps it was your Prince Terrato that started the battles with these other races in the first place? Perhaps any chance Princess Celestia or Luna would have had to resolve things peacefully was ruined by a warmongering brother?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Coldiron spat.

“Oh, and Trixie’s supposes you were there yourself? You saw it all happen with your own eyes?”

“Please, girls, no more arguing,” Blossomforth said, “Does it really matter what happened way back when? Whoever was at fault doesn’t change what we have to deal with now, which is getting a good night’s sleep so we can carry out our mission tomorrow morning.”

Coldiron flicked her tail once with clear irritation, but relented, “Yes, yes you’re right. I’ll take first watch. You recruits get some sleep. I’ll wake one of you in two hours to take your watch.”

“Trixie will volunteer,” Trixie said, “She is used to long nights and uneven sleep patterns.”

Coldiron hesitated a moment before nodding in acknowledgment, “Very well. Sleep well, recruits.”

Coco and the others got out thick blankets from their backs and sleeping bags. The night had gotten quite cold despite the fire and all of them were shivering a little as they settled in to sleep. As she adjusted herself, laying on her back, Coco starred up past the spreading pine branches to the night sky. Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked so many questions. Perhaps Blossomforth was right. Did the past really matter? But she couldn’t help but wonder how the world had gotten the way it was, and why things had turned out the way they had. She wanted there to be… to be justification for it all. Good reasons that made all the death and pain necessary. Otherwise what was the point?

She’d never met Princess Celestia of Princess Luna, but she wanted to believe that the Princesses, and even this Prince, had the best interests of their little ponies at heart, whatever the truth of the past was.

After an uneventful and only somewhat restful night the four mares packed their gear, cleaned up the camp, covered the fire pit, ate a fast breakfast, and got right back on the road. Coldiron told Blossomforth that she didn’t need to take to the air this time, as the more open terrain gave them all a large field of vision across the gently rolling landscape. Blossomforth seemed more than happy to keep off her wings, and Trixie found herself feeling a current of worry.

“Are you sure you’re recovered?” she asked the pegasus after the first hour of trotting.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah!” Blossomforth flexed her wings. There was a faint grimace that Trixie didn’t miss, however, and she gave Blossomforth a level stare.

“Trixie is a skilled performer,” she said, “Which means she can also sniff out another pony’s performance. Your wounds still hurt, don’t they?”

Blossomforth was still smiling, but she did look abashed as she said, “Well… okay maybe not one hundred and twenty percent better, but I can fly just fine! It wasn’t my wings that were hurt, after all, but my leg. It’s just that when a pegasus flies it really uses a lot of muscles besides just our wings, and… yeah, it’s still sore back there. Not a big deal, really, unless I try landing too hard. A bad crash would smart something fierce, that’s for sure. But really, it’s not biggie. I’m good. Honest.”

“She speaks the truth, Lulamoon,” said Coldiron, “Quick Needle cleared her himself. He would not have done that if she wasn’t fit for duty.”

“Trixie apologizes if she is just trying to make sure her friend is alright,” Trixie said with a surly huff, but didn’t say anymore as they kept walking,

After another hour Trixie noticed Coldiron’s gait quickened slightly. The Legion mare’s eyes started to flicker left and right and there was a unmistakable line of tension in her back as she stiffly walked, ears tuning down against her head. Trixie glanced around herself but couldn’t see what had Coldiron on edge and neither Blossomfoth or Coco seemed to notice what was happening.

After another ten minutes Coldiron had gone from a simple trot to a full on canter and Trixie was tired of the other mare’s silence.

“What is it, Coldiron?” she asked, “Something is obviously wrong.”

Coldiron started, as I she hadn’t realized how she’d been acting, and slowed her pace, nearly stopping, “I can’t say for certain. Something feels off. We should have seen another pony by now. A few farmsteaders coming into town for the day, or leaving town back for one of the farmsteads. Also, there aren’t any smoke trails in the sky. The town normally produces a few dozen trails of smoke from fireplaces, and we should be able to see them by now even if we can’t see the town.”

“What does that mean?” asked Coco worriedly.

“I don’t know,” said Coldiron, her expression grave, “But it may be best you load that crossbow, Pommel.”

Trixie bit her lower lip, “If you’re worried we’re going into danger then why don’t we just turn around?”

“We need to check it out,” said Blossomforth, spreading her wings and taking to the air, “Right Corporal? We can’t turn back until we know for sure what’s up in Arrow Vale.”

Coldiron gave a firm nod, “Yes. It may be nothing. A strong wind carrying away the hearth smoke. Just a rare day when no farmers have decided to head into town. We will need to make certain, one way or another. And we still have a mission to perform if it turns out nothing is wrong.”

“And if something is wrong?” asked Trixie.

Coldiron’s flinty gaze was the only answer Trixie received before the mare resumed her canter down the road. Coco followed, loading her crossbow, and Blossomforth gave Trixie a helpless shrug, flying up into the air to scout.

Trixie let out a sigh and followed as well, wishing for the thousandth time that she had left Canterlot long before the Legion had shown up to turn her life upside down. Though even as she thought that she realized something else; that a small part of her was eager. Her whole life she’d tried to live up to an image she’d held of herself in her mind, and image that at times seemed very far away. The incident in Ponyville had left her wondering what it even meant to be ‘Great and Powerful’. She still seethed thinking of that purple unicorn that’d shown her up so… so easily. Trixie had worked hard to get as skilled as she was with magic, but that mare had blown right by Trixie’s abilities.

It hurt, and Trixie hated feeling that way.

But maybe out here she’d get a chance to really show what she was capable of! No stories, no fibs, no made up tales to make herself look good. No. Now she’d do things for real. Face real monsters, and perhaps when it was all done with she’d be closer to that image she held in her mind.

Of course that would require surviving. A prospect Trixie was only half confident she had a chance of seeing through to the end.

Blossomforth spotted the town first, flying only about fifty paces above the ground, but that giving her just enough leeway to spot the cluster of tightly packed log buildings nestled within a log palisade that was built at the base of a large, forest covered hill.

Arrow Vale consisted of at least eight or nine dozen buildings by Blossomforth’s estimate. The palisade surrounding it was actually a bit taller than the one at Beartrap Fortress, but it lacked the steep, trap covered ridge that the fortress enjoyed and the palisade itself didn’t look quite as solid to Blossomforth as the spike covered affair back at the fort. The buildings themselves were log cabins, most with thatch roofs. Really it almost looked like any other rural pony town from back home, by her estimate. A bit rougher but no less homey.

There was one central building that stood out as the largest, with a tall wood bell tower sprouting from the back of it, a brass bell hanging limp and still inside. In fact ‘still’ was a good way to describe the whole town. As she shaded her hoof against the morning sun to get a clearer look she noticed none of the dirt streets had any ponies walking along it, and every cabin looked dark and lifeless. This didn’t look like an occupied town with a population of ponies waking up to greet the day.

It looked like a ghost town.

She spotted Coldiron waving her down, and when she landed and reported what she’d seen, Coldiron’s expression went as hard as ice.

“I don’t know what we’re about to find, but we’re going in. The gate looks closed from here. Blossomforth, can you carry me over?”

Blossomforth nodded. Her leg did still hurt, but it wasn’t so bad she didn’t think she could manage to carry the stout little gray mare. Trixie and Coco waited outside the gate while Blossomforth got her hooves underneath Coldiron’s barrel and lifted her over the wall and dropped her off on the other side. The town, up close, looked even more deserted. Also Blossomforth quickly noticed details that had been absent from a distance. A broken window. A torn cloak. A spear laying in the dirt, no blood on its tip.

“Corporal?” Blossomforth said, and Coldiron nodded.

“I see it too. Wait here. I’m opening the gate. Shout I you see any movement.”

Coldiron trotted to the side of the gate where a wooden beam could be moved to unbar the large wood doors. As the unicorn used magic to pull the thick beam through its grooves to open the gate Blossomforth continued to turn her gaze over what she could see of the town from here. A main road gently curved along the same arc as the hill to the south, cutting through the center of town. She saw down the bend of the road what she thought might have been a tavern, or inn, and what looked to be a few market stalls. The rest of the buildings looked to be residences, at least of the ones close to the gate. She kept seeing small signs of struggle, or at least that something amiss had happened. An overturned cart. A fallen foal’s doll. A strand of webbing…

A strand of webbing!?

“Corporal! I think we’ve got a serious problem here!” she said, not quite shouting, but feeling a distinct rising panic. She hadn’t seen what the other three mare’s had seen back at Beartrap Fortress, but she’d been filled in on the events. The sticky white strand that was hanging down from the lip of one of the nearby cabin roofs looked a lot like what had been described to her as the webbing of a spider. A pony sized spider.

Just as Coldiron was getting the gate doors open, pushing them open with her magic, and Coco and Trixie trotted inside, Blossomforth caught movement in the window of one of the nearby cabins. She hadn’t seen it clearly, only that a tiny shape had moved away from the window when her eyes had turned that way. A chill ran down her spine, despite having not seeing what it was.

“Seriously, I don’t think we’re alone here.”

“What did you see?” asked Coldiron, Trixie and Coco beside her as the mare trotted up next to Blossomforth. The wreath of magic hadn’t left Coldiron’s horn and the mare looked around with narrow eyes, clearly ready to cast magic.

Trixie looked tense but determined, her own horn starting to glow as well, while Coco extended the targeting monocle on her crossbow.

“I saw something move over there,” Blossomforth said, pointing, “And, and there’s some stuff over on that roof that looks like the spiderweb you girls found.”

Trixie let out a soft hiss and Coco gulped, but Coldiron simply set her eyes calmly upon the cabin Blossomforth had pointed out.

“Right. I’ll take point. Blossomforth, be right behind me with that spear ready. Pommel you’re in the middle. Don’t shoot unless you know what you’re shooting at. Lulamoon, you’re on rear guard. Don’t let anything sneak up behind us. We’re going to do this building by building until we either find out what’s going on, or find something we can’t deal with. Stay calm, stay alert, and don’t wander out of sight of the rest of us.”

After looking at each of them in turn to confirm every mare understood her orders Coldiron lead the squad into Arrow Vale.

Author's Note

Looks like things are afoot (or would the proper term be 'ahoof'?) in Coldiron's hometown. For a chapter that mostly consisted of walking and talking I rather enjoyed writing it, just giving the characters time to interact while building up to what's about to go down. Hope you folks are enjoying thus far. As always let me know what you think. 'Till next time.

Chapter 7: What Lies Beneath

Chapter 7: What Lies Beneath

“They’re out there alright!” said Alpine as her and her patrol squad returned to Beartrap Fortress, alighting upon the west wall where Counter Charge was waiting for them. She only had half an eye for her friend, also looking at the dense forest tree line across the Bearbones river, where the shadows of the forest gloom didn’t fully conceal the large shapes that moved between the tree trunks.

“How many?” Counter Charge asked, trying to sound calm and collected.

“A hundred or so by my guess,” said Alpine, “Hard to get a clear count with all the trees in the way. Problem is there are more coming. We could catch glimpses of them moving in from the west, in small bands of maybe ten or twenty.”

Counter Charge nodded. It was consistent with the usual ursan pattern of amassing forces for an attack. Ursans hit worse than a battering ram when they attacked, but one positive factor was that they usually moved slow when moving in large groups, taking their time to gather forces, work themselves up into a proper battle frenzy. With the ursans now gathering across the river it was as clear a sign as the fortress was going to get that an attack was coming. It was a cold feeling, however, to know the scale of what would be coming. A couple of hundred ursans, which by Alpine’s report was what was over there right now, would have been enough to warrant a serious threat to be concerned with.

The knowledge that there were a lot more coming, and that it might take a couple of days for the full ursan army to mass, let a sinking feeling in Counter Charge’s gut.

“Very well,” she said, “You go get some rest and food, and I’ll report to the Captain.”

Alpine nodded and gestured with her wing for the other pegasi in her squad to get going, which they did with grateful looks. Alpine stuck around a moment, giving Counter Charge a subdued if still optimistic smile, “Don’t worry too much Counter, we’ll figure something out to send the ursans packing. We’re checking the traps and setting up more later today, and I heard the Captain’s got a few special warding spells he’s busting out for this that should help. Not to mention we might get some back up from Arrow Vale. Those ponies down there are a pretty tough bunch.”

Counter Charge nodded, appreciative her friend was trying to keep her morale high, “Let’s hope so. Coldiron is a capable enough pony, so I don’t doubt she’ll do her best to convince some of those villagers to join us. I also trust the Heartlanders with her will hold their own. Not much else we can do except prepare as best we can.”

Alpine extended one of her wings, casually preening it, her mouth working out a particularly bent green feather which she spat out with a grimace, “Bad timing. Had leave coming up in a couple of months. Was looking forward to heading home for a bit.”

With a sidelong glance at her friend Counter Charge said, “Wouldn’t have minded that either. Your mother bakes some fine peach pies.”

“Ha! As if I’d have brought any back with me,” said Alpine with a knowing smile. Every single time she’d had leave she’d always returned to the fort with a few neatly wrapped up pies from her family’s ovens. Alpine’s family were among the best bakers in the Western Barrier Lands. Counter Charge had always wondered why one of the family’s oldest daughters had chosen to join the Legion instead of taking over the family business. She respected Alpine enough not to ask, though.

The two settled into an awkward silence, punctuated only by the hollow crack of wood on wood and the shuffles of digging from the crews touching up and adding to the traps on the ridge. Counter Charge could feel the tension in Alpine, practically seeing the faint shakes in the pegasus’ body. Alpine was starring into the forest where the Ursan shadows loomed, and Counter Charge knew her friend was battling her fear of the impending battle. A battle they both knew they had a slim chance of living through.

“Yup…” Alpine whispered, “Would’ve been nice to go home one more time.”

“Why are we waiting like timid cubs!?” snarled Gertharka, her lips pulled back in a flash of challenge. Her black fur would all but have blended her into the shadows of night, but in the daylight piercing through the forest canopy that midnight coat seemed to stand out even more. Pink scars criss-crossed her hide, the mark of many hard fought battles against rivals, and gave little doubt to the notion that the Chieftain of the Night Roar clan had earned her position.

Ulragnok didn’t flinch from her exposed fangs nor threatening tone. He took one, solid step towards the other Chieftain and issued forth a rumbling growl that shook his own bones. Many of the braves that had gathered around the Warchief and the lesser Chieftain either growled their support or took tentative steps back, in case a duel was indeed imminent.

“We wait because that is what I have decided! On the night of the newborn moon we strike, and not an instant before!”

Gertharka’s snarl did not go away but she didn’t take a step forward to answer his challenge, either. Ulragnok was not surprised. As powerful as she was to hold leadership of her clan she also would know well that Ulragnok had answered many challenges just like hers to his leadership of the gathered clans for this attack upon the pony lands. Each of those challengers had fallen to Ulragnok’s claws, one after another. True, she did not know that he had help in winning those challenges from his shadowy allies, whose mysterious magics sharpened his senses and whose potent poisons coated his claws, but what Gertharka didn’t know only added to her fear of him. Fear was good, but even despite her fear Ulragnok could tell that Gertharka’s patience was fraying, as was that of her clan’s braves.

“It is foolishness, this waiting,” she grumbled, shaking her large body and pawing at the ground with her claws, her green eyes flashing with her barely contained ire, “We came to your call for the promise of glory! We have too long played mere games with the ponies, keeping them from our sacred lands and nothing more. The elders preach and prattle that our way is not of war, but then why do we have such powerful claws if not to fight!? I brought my clan to you because I thought you understood this, Ulragnok! Yet for all your fine promises of the grand battles to come we sit here, with the very walls of our enemies’ fortress in sight… and we wait!”

“Yes, we wait,” Ulragnok said, curling his own lips back to expose his prominent jaws, his eyes boring into Gertharka’s, “You will taste the blood you want, soon, but we wait. If you wish otherwise, then we can settle this here, now.”

He took one more step forward, leaving absolutely no room for misconceptions. He was ready to fight any challenger to his command and if Gertharka wanted to launch an assault on the pony fortress before the new moon then she could only do so over his bloody, savaged corpse.

Gertharka growled… and stepped back, bowing her head, “We wait, Ulragnok.”

She turned and lumbered away, the braves of her clan filing in behind her like a shuffling tide, the metal plates of their armor creaking and clanking. Ulragnok watched her go and only when he was certain she was out of sight did he turn away as well and marched past the gathered braves of the other clans, including his own among the Yellowtooth. Most of them grunted approval at him, their faith in him still strong for the time being. What dissenters there were he knew would not last long.

Once the new moon came and they crushed the fortress of the ponies then all doubt in him would vanish, he knew. Then, after that, he would lead them all to even greater glory. He would prove to the elders of the larger clans whose territory was deeper in the mountains that the young clans in the forests had a better way than merely defending territory. He would spark a new fire in the ursan race! After he destroyed not just the fortress across the river, but the larger fortresses to the south, all of the clans would come to his call. They would sweep the ponies away in a battle beyond any in the ursan’s history, and for all time the name Ulragnok would be remembered.

He just had to wait a little bit longer.

Trepidation was a tad too mild a word for the feeling running through Blossomforth as she looked down the wide, dark hole in the ground that they were soon to go into. A better term might be ‘terrified’ or ‘scared featherless’. It wasn’t even the notion of going up against more of those admittedly creepy spiders everypony was calling ‘Lurkers’. For Blossomforth the root of her fear was the idea of going down into such an enclosed space.

She’d been all gung-ho a little while ago, and she fully intended to go down there with the others and do her part, but it didn’t change the fact that she had a rather severe fear of closed in spaces. Blossomforth wasn’t embarrassed by this. After all, most pegasi weren’t exactly fans of being constrained. She just rarely had to face that fear so… directly. Living as a weathermare in Ponyville had really been nice for avoiding things like holes in the ground. Granted there were other issues with living in Ponyville, like the occasional rampaging dragon, chaos spirit, parasprite infestation, or three-headed dog monster… but really, by Blossomforth’s standards those were pretty easy to deal with in comparison to the prospect of delving into that deep, dark hole with nowhere to fly, the walls slowly closing in around her, making it hard to breath-

“Blossomforth?” Trixie’s voice nearly made her jump, but Blossomforth managed to not make a fool of herself as her unicorn friend looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Huh? Yes! I’m fine! Totally not fighting back a panic attack!”

“Okay… “ Trixie’s eyebrow climbed even higher, then she shook her head and nodded towards where the rest of their squad was gathered along with about twenty of the Arrow Vale ponies, “We’re about to head in. Trixie merely came to fetch you before Corporal Bossy decided to yell at you for spacing out.”

Blossomforth hid a laugh with a hoof, hoping it also hid her nervousness, “Thanks. I’m good. A bit jittery, is all. Not a fan of enclosed spaces.”

“Ah, Trixie sees. Well, fear not! Trixie will ensure that even in darkest gloom that her light will shine a clear path! Even if the Lurkers do something incredibly smart like try to collapse a tunnel upon us rest assured that Trixie has very fast legs and will carry you to safety.”

Trixie said this while striking confident pose, one leg sweeping out dramatically. Suddenly Coldiron’s voice could be heard shouting from the main group, “Stop fooling around you two and fall in! We’re about to head down!”

Blossomforth nudged Trixie with a small smile, “Looks like we got yelled at anyway. Come on. I’ll be okay.”

The two trotted over and Blossomforth noticed that the Arrow Vale ponies had gathered several piles of rope that they were pinning to the ground with wood stakes. Coldiron was standing beside Mayor Straight Lace and Strong Back, while Coco Pommel was helping with the ropes. All the Arrow Vale ponies were armed now with either spears or short, chopping blades like the Mayor’s. A hoof full had crossbows, but not many, probably due to the fact that they’d be going into narrow tunnels and only so many ponies would get clear shots at anything down there. That would likely explain why Coco, while still bearing her heavy crossbow on her back, was now also sporting one of the town’s short swords sheathed at her left flank. The Arrow Vale ponies mostly lacked armor, however, with Blossomforth only seeing a few suits of leather armor present among them.

Coldiron turned to them as she and Trixie approached, “We’re going in ahead of the rest. Mayor Straight Lace has to stay here to coordinate the ponies cleaning up the town and preparing to either evacuate or take care of wounded, depending on how this turns out. Strong Back here is going to be in charge of the townsponies coming down with us.”

Strong Back smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his mane, “Here’s hopin’ I make a better account of myself this time. We’ll back you girls up just fine, don’t you doubt! And I’ll be listening to your command, Corporal. You got the military know-how best around here, so consider us as following you, and I’ll be the go between.”

Coldiron nodded, “Fair enough. We don’t know what conditions down there will be like, but assuming the worst we’ll be dealing with narrow spaces with limited room to maneuver. That being the case I want you mostly to keep tight and stay in view of each other. It might be easy to get lost or separated down there, and if these things act anything like real spiders they’ll try to pick us off one by one and use ambush tactics.”

Her eyes turned to Trixie, “You and me will take the lead. I don’t know if more of those things can use that strange magic like the last one did, but if they can I want us to form a barrier fast as possible. Coco and the townsponies with crossbows will back us up, forming a firing line as best we can. Blossomforth, I want you to stick with Strong Back and reinforce the spears in the rear guard.”

“I think I can mange that,” said Blossomforth and Coldiron’s eyes narrowed.

“Do more than think it; do it. I got a bad feeling that the Lurkers will try to cut us off, which means you’ve got the hardest job of all; clearing our way out when we need to get out of there. If we manage to rescue any of the ponies that were taken the Lurkers are probably going to be pissed about it. If they end up holding any of their forces back it’ll be then that they’ll hit us with all they got to make sure we don’t escape. That’ll put you in the thickest fighting. Our lives will be in your hooves, recruit.”

Blossomforth couldn’t help but gulp, “Right. No pressure. That reminds me, Trixie brought up a very worrying issue a second ago. What if they Lurkers try to collapse any of the tunnels on us?”

Coldiron frowned, glancing away in thought, “A good point. We don’t know enough about them to be sure they won’t try that, but it’s possible they won’t for fear of catching themselves in the collapse as well. If they do try it, well, the best I can offer is that I might be able to reinforce the tunnel with ice. Failing that… we run. We knew this was going to be hard when we decided to do it.”

A sigh escaped Blossomforth as she nodded, “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Heh, nopony ever said battling giant spiders was an easy job! Then again, I don’t think anypony’s ever had that job before us, heheh.”

Coldiron gave one of her rare smiles, “Just another day in the life of a Legionnaire. Alright, let’s get to it!”

The ponies assembled around the hole, Blossomforth taking to the air alongside three other pegasi among the village ponies who were going down there with the Legion squad. The hole’s depths were obscured by the lengths of webbing that covered it, but torches were lit and ponies moved to the edge of the pit and set those webs aflame. They burned with remarkable speed, peeling off and floating into the darkness, burning out quickly. The light was just enough, though, for Blossomforth to spot the bottom of the pit, about twenty paces down.

The ropes were unrolled and tossed down, and Coldiron took the lead alongside Coco and Trixie as the mares started the climb down. Coco was a tad awkward at it, mostly due to the weight of the crossbow mounted on her back, but she managed to not fall, while Trixie demonstrated a fair bit of familiarity with the ropes, as if she was used to climbing. Blossomforth and the other pegasi kept pace with them, slowly flapping their wings as they descended to the bottom of the pit. Blossomforth kept her spear gripped nice and tight in her forehooves, eyes scanning the bottom for any sign of movement. Torches and light spells from unicorn horns provided a solid pool of illumination.

At the bottom Blossomforth remained hovering for a minute, enjoying the feeling of being airborne as much as possible before she knew she’d be constrained. The pit’s bottom was wide enough that all of the ponies could stand there with room to spare once they were all down. There was but one tunnel leading out of the pit, its mouth a black, ominous throat that Blossomforth imagined could lead to the belly of some massive subterranean beast.

“Everything alright down there?” shouted Mayor Straight Lace from the top of the pit.

“Yes, we all made it down,” called back Coldiron, “Keep the entrance guarded until we get back. We’ll probably be coming back in a hurry, and under attack.”

“No worries, we’ll make sure this exit stays open. Good luck, Legionnaires.”

Coldiron quickly organized them, herself, Trixie, and Coco forming the core of the lead group, with Blossomforth taking charge of half a dozen spearponies who’d guard the rear, and the rest marching in the middle. Blossomforth smiled at Strong Back as he stood next to her.

“Guess it’s our job to make sure no nasty critters sneak up behind us. At least if something does show up all we got to do is scream real loud and jab it with a spear. A foalproof tactic!” she jested.

Strong Back’s laugh was a tad weak, belying his own nerves, but his return smile still made Blossomforth feel better.

“I’m just hoping don’t get my head conked into a wall again. So many ponies have told me I’m thick skulled, but come on, that doesn’t mean I like putting it to the test.”

“Enough chatter,” commanded Coldiron, her horn alight with a frosty blue illumination spell as she approached the tunnel entrance, “We move quick, quiet, and alert.”

With that the ponies started to march into the tunnel, enough room for them to do so about four abreast. Blossomforth marched in last, trying her best to forget the feeling of walking into her own grave.

The multi-colored light of illumination spells from the unicorns in the rescue party combined with the flickering orange of the lit torches carried by others, making a mural of shifting colors and shadows on the tunnels walls that reminded Coco Pommel of the way light refracted off water, as if she was looking at something underwater. The tunnel stretched out before them, yawning and unyielding in its darkness. After several dozen paces it sloped downward and began to curve to the right. If Coco’s sense of direction was being honest with her she was fairly certain the tunnel was leading out of the town on the side where the forest was located.

Nopony spoke, the only sound the shuffle of hooves and the brush of hide on armor and clothing, or the creaks of equipment shifting. Even those tiny sounds were like the cacophony of a stampede to Coco’s ears. Webbing speckled the tunnel walls at irregular intervals, sometimes thick enough to block their path and require burning. Coco didn’t know much of anything about spiders but she wondered if burning the webs might be alerting whatever might be lying in wait ahead of them. Wasn’t that what a spider’s web was for? To catch prey and alert the spider when a tasty morsel had stumbled into its grasp?

She shoved down her fear and pressed on harder with her steps. She had to remind herself that these Lurkers were monsters, just like the ursans, and she’d already seen that they could be killed. No matter what, ponies’ lives were at stake, and that meant Coco wanted to save them and put a stop to the evil of these monstrous things that preyed on her race with no regard at all for the sanctity of life.

Her breathing had quickened without her noticing and it wasn’t until Coldiron glanced her way and nudged her with a hoof that Coco realized she’d been pulling ahead of the Corporal. With an embarrassed rush of heat to her cheeks Coco slowed down and let Coldiron take the lead again. She still didn’t know just what was wrong with her. She felt like something was changing inside her, since the first battle with ursans on the road. Changes that both scared Coco, and made her feel… empowered.

Putting those thoughts aside she focused on the path ahead. After a few minutes the relatively straight tunnel had its first branch off, one path curving to the left, while the other remained more or less running straight. The group paused here and Coldiron knelt down, examining the ground. Coco could only imagine the Legion mare was looking for some sing of tracks. To Coco’s eyes the hard packed dirt of the tunnel was bland and featureless. She couldn’t tell if the scuffs she saw were signs of passage or just the results of when the tunnel was initially dug.

Apparently Coldiron knew what she was doing, however, because it didn’t take long for the mare to rise and motion for them to continue down the straight path, ignoring the offshoot tunnel. Coco nor anypony else questioned the Corporal’s decision. Even Trixie, who Coco was starting to understand was a pretty talkative and gregarious sort, was unusually quiet now.

The number of offshoots began to increase. After the third one Coldiron gave a small, frustrated growl as she tried examining the ground. Coco approached her and quietly whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“Up until now I’ve been following these markings that are similar to the scuff marks claws might make, and making sure we kept to the path that had the most of those. Now, though, there’s so many I can’t tell which direction has the most concentration.”

Coco’s brow creased. She wasn’t sure how to help. She didn’t know the first thing about tracking. Trixie stepped forward, however, coming around to Coldiron’s other side to look around. They were at an intersection with three different branches in the tunnels besides the one they came down. The tunnels were slightly narrower now, with the ponies only able to walk three abreast instead of four, and the ceiling had become a little uncomfortable in how low it was, almost brushing the top of Coco’s head… though she had to admit she was actually a bit on the tall side so the others might not have noticed it as much as she did.

“Trixie is willing to bet most of these side tunnels are fakes,” the azure mare said, her violet eyes narrowing at the side passages, “All meant to confuse, not serve a use. Simple misdirection. Amateurish, actually. They weren’t expecting to be followed, so took the simplest of precautions.”

“What are you going on about?” Coldiron asked, “This place is a maze.”

“Yes, you’re right, Trixie agrees. But Trixie also can tell this is a poorly and hastily thrown together maze. Look, what has remained the same since we entered these tunnels?”

Coldiron tilted her head and had a flat look as if she had no patience for Trixie’s games, which Coco imagined the Legion mare didn’t, but Trixie didn’t let the question rest long, nodding her head straight down the direction they’d been going, “Our initial path. All these offshoots, but the main path has always been there to follow, with no real deviation. We haven’t turned left or right once since coming down here.”

Coco blinked, understanding, “You’re saying that all these offshoots are just here to slow us down if we turn down them?”

“Exactly. Trixie would bet her last bit on it. If this were a true maze we would’ve been forced to choose a turn at some point, be forced into some dead ends. The main path would have vanished long before now. But these Lurkers have a destination in mind, and wanted a clear path there.”

“And the side passages are just a quickly put together distraction,” Coldiron said, looking at the ground, “I’m not sure I totally buy that, but it’s better than standing here doing noting or spinning a dagger to randomly choose a direction. Alright, let’s keep going forward.”

At that exact moment, just as Coldiron was in mid-step, there was a echo of clacks and dry hisses that seemed to come from all around them, and a strand of thick white web shot out of the darkness ahead like a spear. It hit Coldiron squarely in the chest and the unicorn was yanked off her hooves and rapidly dragged down the tunnel. Her horn remained aglow, keeping her form illuminated as it was dragged ahead at a fast pace.

“Coldiron!” Coco shouted, not even thinking about it as she bounded forward after the mare’s rapidly vanishing form.

At the same time there were cries and shouts from the back of the group, but Coco didn’t stop. She knew if she let Coldiron get out of her sight she might entirely loose the mare, and then, somehow, Coco knew all would be lost. With her hooves pounding she galloped for all she was worth, keeping the light of Coldiron’s horn just barely in sight as something continued to drag her along.

She heard Coldiron spit out a curse and saw the glow of magic intensify as Coldiron sent a bolt of arcane energy down the tunnel at whatever was dragging her. The bolt bounced off the walls like a pin ball, and struck something ahead that let out a horrible, gurgling hiss. Coco caught up then, skidding to a halt next to Coldiron. She saw ahead that they’d reached the mouth of the tunnel, which opened up into some larger, circular chamber. And inside that chamber she could see shapes moving, skittering on many legs.

Lurkers. Their spindly forms were all manner of dark colors, from pure black to deep bruised purple, while others sported molted browns or dark green hues. Coco didn’t bother to count them. A dozen at least. Probably more. The one that’d been dragging Coldiron was a few paces into the room, laying on its side with its legs flailing and its abdomen scorched with Coldiron’s spell. However it was rapidly righting itself and turning, and Coco didn’t waste a second aiming and firing her crossbow. The large bolt, meant to peirce the hide of the deadly ursans, hit the Lurker squarely in its face and pulped the thing’s alien countenance in a shower of vile gore, flipping it over on its back.

But that was just one of many, and Coco had no time at all to try and reload before two more Lurkers, the closest to the entrance, rushed her and Coldiron. She reached to draw her sword but knew she’d be too slow, one of the Lurker’s rearing on its back legs, nearly doubling its height as fangs flashed towards Coco’s neck.

A blast of light, bright, brilliant, and made of shades of green, violet, and blue burst into the room with the snapping of fireworks. The Lurkers all cried out in a chorus of ear splitting shrieks and hisses, and the ones that had been charging Coco and Coldiron reeled backwards. Trixie was standing beside Coco now, her horn’s aura blazing and her face a mask of concentration.

“Clear the entrance,” Coldiron said, getting to her hooves, “Where are the others?”

Even as she spoke her horn was glowing intensely and a freezing cold blast of icy air flew out in a cone shape into the darkness, catching a few Lurkers and causing them to hiss in pain and fall back, but many more were skittering closer now, recovering from Trixie’s fireworks. Coco quickly reloaded, the actions becoming more and more familiar to her as she set the large bolt into the crossbow and worked the crank. She ducked her head as a strand of web shot over it. She saw that the Lurkers were not mindlessly charging them now, but organizing. A line of them were forming a barrier in front of others who had turned around to expose their backsides where their spinnerets could form strands of web that now rained down on the Legion mare’s positions.

Trixie and Coldiron formed a barrier, the webbing bouncing off the magical dome the two mares created. When Coldiron glanced at Coco to see the mare was locked and loaded she created a hole in the barrier for Coco to fire, sending the bolt flying into the Lurkers’ ranks, spearing another of the spidery creatures and all but pinning it to the ground.

“They’re following,” said Trixie in answer to Coldiron’s question, “But Trixie heard the sounds of fighting at the rear. Blossomforth must be dealing with more of these things behind us.”

Coco chanced a glance behind her down the tunnel they’d come from. The only ponies she saw were about ten Arrow Vale ponies who were closets to the head of the group when Coldiron had been grabbed. They now piled into the chamber behind the barrier Trixie and Coldiron were forming, all brandishing their weapons. One of them, a wide-eyed earth pony mare with a black coat and braided cornflower yellow mane said, “They’re behind us too, but the others are holding them back for now!”

Coldiron nodded, “Those with spears form up in front of us. Anypony with a crossbow get ready, we’ll lower the shield and you fire a volley, then we charge.”

“Charge?” Trixie grit her teeth as she spoke, her magic flickering. Coco worried the mare’s magic might be failing but Trixie, sweat trickling off her chin, doggedly kept her magic going to support the shield as she said, “We don’t even know how many there are out there!”

That much was true. The shield was actually casting some magical glow into the room, illuminating much of it, but the Lurkers seemed to blend into their dark environment, their chitin acting as natural camouflage in the shadows and their movements so fast and erratic it was hard to get an accurate count of them. For a second Coco almost agreed with Trixie that charging in might be a bad idea, but then she spotted something at the back of the chamber that changed her mind instantly just as Coldiron responded.

“We’re charging because it’s the only chance those ponies have!” the Legion mare shouted.

At the back of the large dome-like chamber were a series of forms seemingly stacked up like sacks of potatoes. Most of them were white with the thick webbing that wrapped them up like they were tucked into blankets, but it was clear that there were scores of ponies here, stacked along the wall. Coco sadly realized that while there were probably at least a hundred ponies there, it didn’t account for the full number of ponies that would have been abducted from the town. She saw there were several other tunnel exits towards that end of the chamber and that the Lurkers were formed up in the middle of the room between them and those exits. Even in the middle of the fight Coco could see a few Lurkers still working to grab and haul the captured ponies down those tunnels. Every second was putting another innocent life out of their reach to save!

“She’s right, we have to hit them hard, now!” Coco all but growled, shocked at the way the anger rose in her so quickly and potently, but not fighting it, letting the raw heat rise in her chest and fuel her limbs as she began to all but snort steam.

Trixie for a second looked almost frantic, but Coco saw the unicorn gulp and nod her head, visibly taking control of herself, “T-then let’s do it fast! Before more of these things show up!”

Coco reloaded her crossbow quickly and braced herself. The Arrow Vale ponies readied spears and scuffed the ground with their hooves, snorting and growling in ways that Coco could only imagine was to psyche themselves up for the charge. The ones who had crossbows aimed. Meanwhile the Lurkers had ceased firing webbing at the shield and instead had started to move, some of them splitting off with great speed to begin climbing up the walls, while the ones that remained in the middle formed a tight circle. Those Lurkers began to spin their webs, their legs moving in flickering, spastic patterns. Coco didn’t know what they were doing but at that moment Coldiron lowered the shield and shouted, “Fire!”

Crossbow strings twanged and they were joined by the magical snaps and crackles of magic as both Coldiron and Trixie sent spells towards the Lurkers; a spear of ice from Coldiron and a thin magical beam from Trixie.

It was thin Coco realized what the Lurkers had been doing, as their webbing formed thick, circular shields to catch crossbow bolts, and one of the Lurkers formed another one of those strange looking runes which glowed green as it absorbed the beam from Trixie. Coco heard Trixie let out a very unlady-like curse at that.

It didn’t seem like any of the crossbow shots besides her heavy bolt did any damage and Coco could tell even her ursan killing bolt lost a lot of momentum trying to punch through the web shield, though it still hit the Lurker behind and caused it to hiss in pain.

Coldiron, undeterred, made a motion with her foreleg, the signal to charge. As one the ponies broke into a charge, their hooves pounding the ground. Coco had drawn her short sword, holding the grip in her mouth. Up ahead the Lurkers reacted fast, turning to start firing webs. The one whose rune had absorbed Trixie’s spell shaped another rune, this one almost looking like a six pointed star. There was no flash of light or fire like last time, instead there was barely a shimmer of green light in the air and suddenly one of the charging Arrow Vale mares next to Coco fell to the ground, screaming in raw agony. Coco almost stopped to see if she could help, but she knew if she lost her momentum then she’d put the entire charge in jeopardy. One thing the instructors had drilled in the days of training she’d had back in the Heartland, and further at Beartrap Fortress, was that if you charge, don’t stop. Raw momentum was among ponykind’s greatest strength when on the attack in warfare. An earth pony charge could devastate an enemy formation, at least that’s what Coco had been told. So, no stopping for wounded allies. It was better to carry on and defeat the enemy.

It bothered her, but the rage was still boiling inside her and she just wanted to make these creatures pay for all they’d done!

Web shot in from all sides, not just from the Lurkers they were charging, but from the ones that had gone to the walls. Luckily the charge was fast enough that the Lurkers didn’t aim that well and Coco couldn’t even tell if anypony got hit. She heard a yelp or two, but she didn’t have time to look as they hit the Lurkers in the middle. Coco kept her sword thrust forward and bowled straight into the first Lurker.

It was shockingly light and it cried out, a piercing shriek, as Coco’s sword dug into it and she carried it bodily along. The lightness of the Lurker caught Coco so off guard she ended up tripping and rolling, taking the Lurker with her and rolling over it as they tumbled. She felt its cold, clammy chitin on her hide, and to her disgust it was covered in many little hairy barbs, not sharp enough to hurt, but enough to make it feel like every inch of the Lurker was clinging to her. It’s legs scrabbled and scratched at her, but all that did was add to Coco’s fury as she began to punch with her hooves and work her neck in a constant stabbing motion.

She felt chitin resist for a second, then break under her hooves, and her blade sank in with loud cracks with each stab. In seconds she was covered in thick, viscous Lurker blood and the smell and feel made her gag and almost throw up as she rolled away from the Lurker and got to her hooves. The Lurker was dead and around her was a confused, shifting melee. Coco saw one stallion on his back, a Lurker rearing up and down on him, jabbing the stallion in the chest with its fangs over and over as the stallion shuddered and foamed at the mouth, his eyes wide and already glazed.

Coco heard spells going off and might have seen Trixie out of the corner of her eye dodging a Lurker, blasting it with a magical beam, but that was all Coco could take in of the fight as her eyes narrowed and she zeroed in on the Lurker that’d just killed the Arrow Vale stallion. With a wordless cry, pure red tinting her vision, she charged.

Trixie leapt back, feeling the rush of air as the Lurker went past her, its fangs narrowly missing her. Her heart was hammering away in her chest and she could barely breathe, but Trixie wasn’t paying attention to the way her body was screaming at her about the physical exertion and instead was focused solely on pushing as much magic through her horn as she could.

The violet glow of her magic encased one of the Lurker’s legs as it was still trying to turn around and Trixie yanked with that magical grip, forcing the Lurker to stumble. However the monster recovered fast, spinning a rune with its free legs in a mere eye-blink. Trixie watched as once more her own magic seemed to get absorbed into that rune, and this time she watched carefully. This had been her plan, to make this creature pull this trick again so she could see just what it was doing.

She narrowed her eyes as she saw the glow of her magic enter the web-spun rune, and then seem to hold there.

The Lurker began to weave anther rune and Trixie was almost too caught up in taking the sight in to actually dodge when the magic transferred from the first rune to the new one and from that rune a small jet of green fire erupted. Trixie cried out as she felt the heat burn her flank, causing intense, scorching pain to rush up her spine, but she pushed through that pain and faced her opponent once more.

Grim faced Trixie sent a magical beam towards the Lurker, and once more that rune was woven with blinding speed, absorbing the beam… but at the same instant Trixie used her magic to whip out her dagger and send it flying at the same rune. The dagger severed the webbing and the Lurker cried out in a shocked hiss as the magical energy the rune had absorbed dissipated instantly. The Lurker seemed so taken off guard that it didn’t respond fast enough when Trixie sent her second magic beam blasting into its face.

The Lurker hissed but didn’t go down, but to Trixie’s surprise instead of resuming its attack on her it retreated running back towards one of the tunnel exits.

“Why you! Get back here you magic stealing freak of nature! Trixie isn’t through with you-GAH!”

As she had begun to give chase she felt something hit her back and suddenly she was yanked into the air. Despite the sudden disorientation she managed to turn her head and see that one of the Lurkers had gone to the ceiling and managed to snag her with a web, which it was now rapidly pulling up towards it, dragging along a very irate magician!

Trixie could see the Lurker’s fangs twitch, as if in anticipation, and its glittering eyes lock onto hers. Like what had happened back in Arrow Vale’s town hall when Trixie looked into the Lurker’s eyes it froze her up. Those eight alien orbs, somehow blacker than the shadows around them, filled her with an ice cold fear, as if every one of her muscles had turned to frost.

She dully heard shouts beneath her, one of them possibly being her name. She couldn’t pay attention to anything, though. Nothing except those eyes as she was drawn further and further closer to poison coated fangs.

The Lurker in front of her finally curled up and died as ice coated its body, Coldiron keeping up the blast of sub-zero cold just a second longer to make sure her opponent wasn’t getting back up. Glancing around she saw the Arrow Vale ponies were making a good account of themselves. One or two were dead, but the rest remained standing, and from the number of Lurker corpses laying on their sides or backs it was clear that while these things were deadly in an ambush situation in a stand-up fight it was the ponies that held the greater advantage. The Lurkers were fast, she’d give them that, and their poison was deadly, but the spidery beasts weren't that physically strong and their bodies were remarkably fragile once one landed a solid blow on them.

Coldiron’s satisfaction was short lived as she caught sight of Trixie being pulled towards the ceiling by one of the Lurkers that had gone to the walls, and apparently had crawled to the ceiling to attack from above.

“Trixie! Shoot it!” Coldiron shouted, but the Heartlander mare seemed paralyzed, her eyes so wide they appeared to be almost solid white.

“Damn it all!” Coldiron growled, turning to aim her horn at the Lurker that was pulling Trixie towards it, but as she did so one of the ones that was still standing on the ground skittered away from its own opponent and made a charge right for her. She had to turn and send the spell she’d intended for helping Trixie for instead blasting the Lurker that was barreling towards her. The Lurker swiftly veered its course in an attempt to dodge, Coldiron’s magical bolt missing its main body, but still tearing off a few of the Lurker’s left side legs. Soon enough the Arrow Vale pony the spider had been fighting came rushing up to shove a spear squarely through the Lurker’s head cavity while it had still been trying to right itself.

Breathing hard, Coldiron turned to see that Trixie was nearly to the fangs of the ceiling Lurker. With no time for a spell all Coldiron do was shout at the top of her lungs, “What’s that worthless cutie mark good for you damn Chosen, if you’re just going to die here!? Wake up!”

The words cut right through the frozen lock that had clamped down on Trixie’s mind. Her cutie mare was not worthless! Her memory snapped for a second to the image of the smiling mare, and Trixie could remember the sterile smell of the hospital, so at odds with the natural, organic warmth that radiated from her mother’s smile. Her cutie mark… earned on that day… was everything to Trixie Lulamoon!

She was less than a hoof’s length from the Lurker, the webbing pulling her up sticking to her legs and pinning two of them to her side, but she wrenched her neck to the side to point her horn towards the Lurker’s face, inches from its snapping fangs. Point blank fireworks exploded around her and the Lurker, flying every which way to fill the chamber with echoing blasts of sound and light. The Lurker was taken so aback that it lost its grip on the ceiling and both it and Trixie started to fall.

Trixie felt an instant of pure vertigo until a white bolt of movement darted across her field of vision and suddenly she was caught between warm, strong hooves.

“Ugh! You’re… heavy!” said Blossomforth as the pegasus mare flapped her wings to slow Trixie’s fall. The Lurker had already hit the ground with a wet splat. The web was still stuck to Trixie's back and side, coating two of her legs, but luckily there had been enough length in the web that when the spider had smacked into the ground there'd been sufficient slack to keep Blossomforth and Trixie from being yanked down. More than that Trixie could see that the other Lurkers that had been on the walls had fallen down as well, presumably from the result of her fireworks spell, and the Arrow Vale ponies along with Coldiron and Coco were rapidly dispatching the dazed spiders. Trixie actually winced slightly at the sight of Coco, absolutely covered from muzzle to tail in Lurker gore; body slammed so hard into one disoriented Lurker that she shoved it squarely into the wall and nearly cracked the thing in half in a splatter of blood.

It was over by the time Blossomforth landed, setting Trixie down. Blossomforth grimaced in pain as her still sore leg twinged at her but she smiled the pain away as she quickly started to help Trixie get the webbing off her, which wasn’t easy as the stuff was ludicrously sticky and clung to her worse than the most potent super glue. Trixie flinched every time a clump of mane or fur got pulled off by the stuff, but soon she got her limbs free. Standing she nodded to Blossomforth with a wane smile, “Trixie thanks you for the timely save… again. Well timed rescues seem to be a habit of yours. Trixie approves of this. Especially the part where you didn't get horribly injured doing it.”

“Recruit Blossomforth, report!” said Coldiron as she approached, still tense and ready for battle, “You’re meant to be our rearguard so why are you here?”

Trixie tilted her head in confusion. Right, Blossomoforth had been fighting behind them, hadn’t she? Not that Trixie was complaining. She’d be a stain on the ground alongside that Lurker if Blossomforth hadn’t shown up. Trixie did notice that not only Blossomforth but the other Arrow Vale ponies that had been with her had come as well. Most of them, at any rate. She could see that three had lost their lives here in this nasty hole in the ground, and that another three or four looked pretty wounded. There were also about two or three missing from Blossomforth’s group.

The white pegasus looked both embarrassed and solemn, but stood her ground as she saluted to Coldiron, “Corporal, we held the rear and managed to kick the bulbous butts of all the things that came at us. There weren't that many. We… lost a few of our own. But once the back tunnel was clear and we still heard fighting here I decided it best to come help. Sorry if that is against orders…”

Coldiron’s hardened expression only briefly softened as she glanced around the room, “So be it. You had the place to make the judgment call. Seems to have worked out. Now lets get these ponies free before more of these bastards show up.”

Guards were set at the tunnel exits as the rest of them went to work on the wrapped up ponies. It was a grisly affair. Trixie felt her heart sinking as they pulled webbing away from the ponies stacked up along the walls. Only about every other pony they pulled from the webs was still breathing, the others dead either from poison, or from other wounds that the Lurker’s certainly hadn’t bothered to treat. The ponies that were alive were disoriented and took some minutes to wake up, and when they did they were skittish to say the least. Many saw where they were and the state of their friends and openly wept, while others just looked shell shocked. Regardless Coldiron quickly organized the survivors into a group, flanked by the armed ponyfolk.

Despite the unpleasantness of how many were dead Trixie couldn’t deny a small sense of satisfaction that they were rescuing anypony at all. There were still easily fifty or so survivors, which was far better than none in her book.

“Alright, just like we came in, we move quick and quiet,” said Coldiron at the head of the newly formed group. However just as she took her first step to lead the group away there was a horrible noise that echoed through the chamber. It made Trixie’s hairs and mane stand on end. It was a Lurker’s hiss, but unlike others she’d heard this one was somehow deeper, louder, and vibrated in her spine with a menacing resonance.

All heads turned to one of the tunnel exits that had led further into the dark. From there a Lurker emerged, or what Trixie could only imagine was supposed to be a Lurker but was certainly nothing like the others they’d seen so far.

Where the other Lurkers had thin, spindly legs, and bulbous bodies, this Lurker’s legs were huge, thick and covered in rusty red fur. Its body was stouter, thicker, and less bulbous, and radiated strength. Its face was no less hideously alien than the other Lurkers, but where they had small sharp fangs, this one’s fangs were the size of swords between massive mandibles. It was easily twice the size of the other Lurkers, and Trixie couldn’t help but think that it looked like a giant, red Tarantula. The tips of its legs were covered in strange, sharp gauntlets; the first manufactured items Trixie had seen the Lurker’s use. The gantlets were tipped in thick metal claws that dug thick grooves in the dirt, and Trixie imagined she was seeing the kind of Lurker that had dug these tunnels in the first place.

The huge Lurker only looked at the gathered ponies in front of it for a moment before issuing forth another hiss that was so loud it was almost a roar. It reared up, raising its front four legs, along with its massive gauntlet claws, and charged.

Author's Note

Action heavy chapter this time around. Not much else to say, honestly. :twilightsheepish: Hope you folks are enjoying it and by all means let me know if you have any comments, critiques, or general questions. 'Till next time.

Chapter 8: Aranea

Chapter 8: Aranea

It was only with a sense of irritation that Thirza responded to the pheromone call of the workers of the spinner-caste. A strong hunter-caste such as himself would not have lowered himself to this position were it not a direct command of the broodmother he was sworn to that he be here to oversee this experimental little expedition. So much of the recent months bothered Thirza. Too much change too quickly. Broodmother Chizirane was pushing this all further than he would have liked, but it was not his place to question those of the brood-caste, especially one who had earned the rank of broodmother. That was the way of the Aranea. Each born to their caste. Each aware of their place in the web. At least in a general sense. Of course there was always room for… mobility. Improving one’s station was a key factor in any proper Aranea’s life, though only within the context of one’s caste.

For a hunter-caste such as himself his lot could be improved by earning praise in the field against rival broods or other dreaded enemies of the Aranea race. Hence Thirza’s irritation. It seemed there were few enemies to fight on the distant surface, and certainly no rival broods. He could earn no honor here. No bragging rights. No prestige with which to bargain for better rations and matting rights with those of the brood-caste. Just the harsh light of the surface, the unpleasant cold, and the strange soft creatures that inhabited that bizarre world of sky and light.

He’d only been on the surface itself a few times, more than enough to know he cared for it not at all. Even at the time when that cursedly bright ball of fire was replaced by softer light of that flying rock the surface was still an uncomfortable place of too much light and too much strangeness. There was invisible movement of air called ‘wind’ and water fell from strange white things called ‘clouds’. The surface was a mad place and were it not for the possibility of such great sources of food on it Thirza would have called Chizirane equally mad for intending to establish an actual colony here. The only upside to that notion was that creating a colony required quite a bit of effort on the brood-caste, effort that would need strong males from the other castes. If nothing else Thirza could look forward to some pleasant times between dealing with the light and cold of the surface.

And the food wasn’t bad. He’d been sampling one of the more populace local spices. A pony, the strange, furry four legged thing was called. They apparently populated much of the surface. And they were quite delectable. Only minimally dangerous as well. The ponies the spinner-caste had caught as a sampling of food came from some kind of pony surface colony made from the corpses of the huge plants called ‘trees’ and local stone. There’d been a slight scuffle, but it’d been over before Thirza had been able to participate with only a few eights of the spinner-caste dead for the effort. Negligible losses, especially for the spinner-caste, the most numerous, and hence expendable, of the Aranea.

Though the possibility of trouble from the locals had been considered, Thirza had not actually believed there would be. Yet as he’d finished his meal he’d caught a whiff of pheromones from the spinner-caste workers and he’d lumbered to see what the issue was. Soon he’d come across a pair of fleeing spinners, one of which he recognized as Brachal, a ‘weaver’, one of the spinner-caste’s magic users. Thirza let out a deep throated hiss of challenge, barring the spinner’s path.

“What is it?” chattered Thirza, “Your pheromones reek of agitation.”

The two spinners immediately halted and prostrated themselves before Thirza, as was appropriate. Brachal raised two of his front legs in a gesture of supplication.

“Great hunter-caste Thirza, we bring terrible news. The fleshy ones have come. They attacked us, killed many, and are freeing the remaining food tributes!”

“What!?” Thirza roared, slamming a leg down and bringing his fangs close to Brachal’s trembling face, “You have lost both food and workers to prey-flesh!? You’re weakness will be punished later. Go and gather your fellow spinners and move the rest of the food down to the deeper tunnels. Now!”

“Yes, great hunter, at once! What shall you do while our unworthy selves perform your bidding?”

Thirza’s only answer was to stomp past the smaller spinners and make his way down the tunnel where they’d come from, as if the answer should have been obvious to the dimmest of louts. Which it was. There was only one response when the brood was under assault, after all. Thirza made sure his two rune encrusted blade gauntlets were secure to his foremost legs. Their enchantments warmed at his touch. The weavers of the spinner caste were restricted in their use of magic on the surface due to the lack of ambient mana, but the runes of the hunter-caste did not rely on wasteful amounts of mana to work their own special magic upon the weapons and armor hunters wore into battle. He was a young hunter, having only earned his gauntlets through trials and deeds, but he hoped soon to earn his first piece of armor, perhaps after this surface expedition was a success.

It didn’t take him long to find the chamber where the ponies acquired for foodstock had been taken for transfer further down. When he lumbered into the chamber he saw that a large number, easily eight eights of the ugly little four legged creatures, had been freed. He saw many fallen spinners, nearly three eights of the caste laying dead. Thirza’s fast working hunter’s mind quickly spotted ponies among the group that were different than the others. It was hard to tell as these colorful things all looked so similar in shape yet with no coordination or uniform in terms of color or smell. How did these things even tell who was of what caste? Yet he could tell there were ponies that were apart from the others, wearing what looked like armor and bearing weapons.

As was tradition he raised his forelegs and issued for the proper challenging hiss to indicate that the strongest should step forward and face him. Instead of sending their strongest warrior the wretched creatures started to panic and flee, making annoying little squealing sounds. Some, however, did not, the armored ones forming a line between Thirza and the fleeing foodstock.

His irritation spiked to its height. So be it, if they did not wish a proper fight between the strongest they would have to settle for being slaughtered together.

Coldiron knew they were in serious trouble the moment this monster appeared and charged their line. It’s size was only matched by its speed, and it wasn't at all like the Lurkers they’d fought so far. Still, it wasn’t quite as big as some of the larger ursans, and it couldn’t be invincible.

She lowered her horn before the huge Lurker could ram into her line of unsteady ponies, both Arrow Vale townsfolk and her own squad all showing equal looks of fear and surprise. Feeling the strain through her horn, which she’d been overusing already, But she had to stop this thing’s charge!

Ice formed into a single, large lance in the air before her and she hurled it with a burst of her magic straight at the Lurker’s hairy side. It reacted with blinding speed, wining one of its forelegs up. The ice lance shattered upon a metal gauntlet fixed on that leg, the gauntlets curved blades slicing through the ice and sending shards of it scattering through the chamber.

Despite her surprise Coldiron reacted fast, turning to shout, “Fall back! Get through the tunnel, now!”

The Arrow Vale ponies hesitated a second, but only a second, before they began to back up towards the tunnel where their rescued fellow townsponies were clustered. Coldiron turned to her squad.

“Coco, put some bolts into this thing. Blossomforth, Trixie, cover the retreat!”

“What about you?” shouted Blossomforth but Coldiron didn’t answer, instead rearing up and then breaking into a charge around the side of the Lurker. Her horn sent spikes of pain into her head as she pulled more magic into it, this time sending a series of quick arcane blasts at the Lurker’s body.

It turned towards her, its forelegs weaving a rapid and deadly pattern in front of it. To Coldiron’s shock those gauntlets were able to turn aside her arcane bolts as if they were mere tossed pebbles. She saw markings on the gauntlets glowing with green fire-like light, their rigid, sharp shapes similar to the runes she’d seen some of the web slinging Lurkers create.

Just how many surprises do these monsters have in store for us!? she wondered as she let out a short growl, the hackles of her brown mane rising.

The Lurker at least was focused on her now, and when it charged her she had to react with lightning speed to avoid its first swipe. Those gauntlets were clearly not just enchanted for defense, because as she rolled away from one she saw it cut cleanly through the stone ground where she’d been standing. The Lurker was skilled, not letting up, easily controlling the momentum of its huge body as it turned to follow her dodge and lunge forward with its fangs. The large, fur covered mandibles on its hideous face hid large, curved black fangs and Coldiron felt them almost brush her as she ducked beneath the lunge and backed away quickly.

By now Coco had loaded her crossbow and fired a shot, the bolt catching the Lurker in the side. It didn’t hiss or make any noise of pain, but it did flinch slightly at the large bolt that had penetrated its carapace and Coldiron took advantage of the distraction to unleash a cone of freezing cold in front of her.

The strain made her feel as if her horn was about to split down the center, and she knew that was the last of such magic she’d be able to cast until she had some time to rest. Any further and she’d risk knocking herself out or worse. The freezing cone hit the Lurker full on, even as it raised its gauntlets in front of it and their runes blazed with sickly green fire.

Coldiron turned and ran, seeing that by now the Arrow Vale ponies had gotten mostly into the tunnel out and it was only Blossomforth, Trixie, and that buck Strong Back waiting at the entrance. Coco was reloading, but upon seeing Coldiron making a break for it Coco was quick to join her.

“Faster! Faster! Trixie says run faster!” Trixie was shouting at them as she waved a hoof, and Coldiron could hear the Lurker’s thunderous steps behind them. As Coldiron and Coco were almost to the entrance Trixie went into action, her own horn glowing violet and sending streamers of fireworks past Coldiron and Coco, which exploded in light and sound.

That got the Lurker hissing loudly. Coldiron hoped Trixie blinded the damn thing! She didn’t slow her gallop to look, however, instead shouting “Go! Go! Go!” to her squad.

They clearly didn’t need further urging, as they all turned and joined her and Coco in a full on run down the tunnel.

Strong Back turned and glanced over his shoulder, his face losing a bit of color as his eyes became saucers, “Don’t mean to alarm you ladies, but I think you have a new admirer!”

Coldiron didn’t have to look. She could feel the tremor in the ground as the Lurker came after them. The tunnels might have been narrow, but clearly the thing could squeeze itself in.

“Just keep running!” she grunted.

“Can’t you ice up the tunnel!?” asked Trixie, “Make it slip or something!?”

Coldiron shook her head, nearly panting “Can’t. Drained.”

Trixie’s response was a swear word Coldiron didn’t even think Heartlanders knew until that moment.

“Also not meaning to alarm anypony,” said Blossomforth, whose wings were a blur as she flew along next to them, “But it’s catching up!”

Coldiron could already see the tails of the fleeing Arrow Vale ponies not far ahead. They were slowed down by the sheer number of them that were trying to move through the tunnels. If the creature got through her and her squad the Arrow Vale ponies would be easy prey for it. Coldiron grit her teeth.

Her duty as a Legionnaire was to the success of the mission, the good of the Legion, and the protection of Equestrians, more or less in that order. Sacrifice was part and parcel with the job.

“Keep gong!” she shouted as she dug her hooves in and turned around to face the enemy. The Lurker was indeed catching up, closer than she’d have imagined. It’d squeezed its body into the tunnel with its legs oddly reaching out in front of it to drag it along at an alarming rate.

It’d be on them in seconds, unless somepony stayed and delayed it.

With her magic all but drained she drew her dagger with a weak telekinetic grip, hoping to maybe get one of the Lurker’s eyes before it killed her.

She only noticed a moment later that she was joined on either side by her squadmates and Strong Back, all of who had stopped and turned when she did. Anger flashed through her, but she had no time to argue or reprimand any of them for disobeying her order, as the Lurker was upon them an instant later.

Coco fired her crossbow, the bolt digging into a leg of the monster. Trixie fired a beam of magical force, deflected by a gauntlet, but slowing the Lurker down. Blossomforth and Strong Back brandished their spears an thrust at the thing’s face as it swiped its free gauntlet at them. Blossomforth lost her spear, the weapon torn from her grip, and Strong Back’s spear was broken at the time, but he still shoved the broken shaft at a leg.

Coldiron flung her dagger at the thing’s face, the blade sticking into one of the mandibles, instead of an eye.

She swore, preparing to cast a spell, even if it did end up shattering her horn.

Blossomforth rushed to grab her spear, which had clattered to the ground, and one gauntlet flashed towards her. Coco jumped forward and with surprising dexterity, and a wild, red eyed look on her face, turned and bucked the striking leg so it went off course and the blade of the gauntlet stuck into the stone wall. Blossomforth quickly gripped her spear and jabbed up, sticking the weapon into the exposed leg of the Lurker, causing brackish blood to spill over her.

Trixie, a look of both sheer terror and grim determination on her face, lit her horn once more and this time concentrated a bright light directly at the Lurker’s face. It screamed, an ear wrenching shriek as it flailed to get away from the light. Strong Back was hit by a back swing of one leg, catching the blunt side of the gauntlet, but still being lifted off his legs to slam into the opposite wall headfirst. The stallion slumped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, leaving a small trail of blood from his head smeared on the tunnel wall.

Blossomforth cried out, leaping to her hooves and rushing to his side. She wasted no time and began to drag the limp buck back down the tunnel. Meanwhile Trixie, sweat dripping down her face, pushed forward, flashing the light at the Lurker, which backed up slowly, tearing its leg free of the gauntlet that was stuck in the stone.

Coco then reloaded her crossbow and with careful aim fired a bolt. This was deflected by the Lurker’s remaining gauntlet, but the force of the shot forced it back even further.

“Trixie will distract it on count of three, then we all run,” said Trixie, looking ready to collapse.

Coldiron held back an urge to argue, “On three, then.”

The Lurker seemed to be adjusting to the light the longer Trixie kept it up, and soon it was no longer backing away, instead seeming to curl in on itself with tension brimming it its every limb. Coldiron was sure it would soon spring back at them, light or no light.

Trixie wasn’t out of a surprises, though, as she very quickly counted, “Onetwothreerun!” and her horn sparked with a new spell, the light flickering out but suddenly little balls of light wafting down towards the Lurker, The lights then burst into loud bangs and puffs of blue smoke that smelled deeply of sulfur.

Trixie ran. So did Coldiron and the rest, Blossomforth carrying Strong Back between her hooves as she flew.

The Lurker’s hisses were deep and rumbling and Coldiron felt the tunnel shudder with repeated slams, as if the Lurker were trying to smash through the walls. It occurred to her that might be exactly what it was doing, as she saw more and more dirt falling down from the ceiling.

“Faster! It’s trying to bring the whole tunnel down!” she shouted.

The shudders in the tunnel only became louder and more severe with every step the ponies took. Coldiron’s heart pounded in time with her rapid hoofbeats as dirt from the collapsing ceiling pelted her head, yet she kept running. Then a single low rumble reverberated through the tunnel like the groan of a giant, followed by a resounding crash that drowned out all other sound.

Coldiron felt something heavy pressing on her back and she sprawled to the ground so fast and hard that for a moment she blacked out. When she blinked back to wakefulness she felt certain she’d only been out for a matter of seconds. She felt warm hooves pulling at her shoulders and a voice speaking quickly and strained with worry.

“Oooh, please don’t be dead. Come on now, wake up!”

It was Coco Pommel, and Coldiron blinked and wiped dirt from her face, looking up to see the mare’s pale features, face creased with worry which quickly melted away into relief as she saw Coldiron’s open eyes.

“Oh thank the Princesses! You’re okay!”

“Alive,” said Coldiron, frowning as she tried wiggling her extremities, “Okay is still to be determined.”

They were still clearly in the tunnel, and the light was coming from Trixie’s horn. The unicorn mare stood, breathing hard, a few paces down the tunnel with Blossomforth, who now had Strong Back’s unconscious form laying across her withers. Coldiron turned to look behind her. She saw that the tunnel was completely collapsed behind them and that she’d been half buried in the fallen piles of dirt.

Her legs hurt, which to her thinking was a good thing, because pain meant they were still there and functioning. With a few experimental wiggles she found that while she had probably torn some muscles and walking would be nothing short of agony, she could still use both hind legs. In short order with Coco’s help she was able to free herself and stand, though she couldn’t keep a wince of pain off her face as her legs screamed silently at her for the effort.

“We… we need to keep moving,” she said, “That thing may still be able to chase us.”

As if to emphasize her point the dirt mound of fallen ceiling behind them began to shift and move and they heard a scrabbling sound, like something digging. Trixie’s ears fell flat against her head and her eyes turned to pin pricks, “What does it take to stop that monster?”

“More than what we have,” Coldiron said bitterly, limping along, “Move! Getting to the surface is our only chance now!”

Along they went, a limping, hobbled group, all tired, all injured to one degree or another. Seconds passed like syrup, each step bringing with it new pain for Coldiron, yet she kept going. Behind them the sounds of digging got louder and louder until less than a minute later they heard the familiar hissing of the large Lurker as it dug its way through the collapse it had caused and resumed the chase.

But the delay in digging through the tunnel had been enough. Up ahead Coldiron saw daylight and the sight caused her heart to surge with new found strength. Suddenly the pain didn’t seem to matter as she forced her legs to greater speed, urging her squad along.

“Almost there! Keep moving!”

More than the sunlight, Coldiron was relieved to see that the bottom of the hole that led to the surface wasn’t empty, but rather had a full two dozen Arrow Vale ponies armed with crossbows and spears waiting. She saw that even more ropes had been lowered into the hole to help the rescued ponies escape, and the remaining pegasi among the Arrow Vale ponies were lifting the last of the rescued ponies up. The ones armed in the hole were among Mayor Straight Lace’s volunteers.

The moment Coldiron and her squad burst from the tunnel mouth she shouted, “One big one right behind us!”

The warning was more than enough. When the huge Lurker began to emerge from the tunnel all the Arrow Vale ponies opened fire with crossbows, or threw their spears. The creature was battered by the assault, its gauntlets unable to deflect all of the bolts and spears that peppered it. The monster hissed so loud it was almost a roar as it backed into the tunnel, leaving splashes of its blood behind as it retreated from the concentrated attack. The Arrow Vale ponies didn’t let up, firing more crossbow bolts into the dark tunnel even after the beast vanished.

Mayor Straight Lace was down there himself, face stony as he turned to Coldiron.

“Let’s get everypony topside. We can’t…” the words halted in his throat as if the mayor just couldn’t believe he was saying them, “We can’t stay in Arrow Vale. Not with things like that waiting beneath us. Corporal, I hope you’ll accept all of us as refugees and… and volunteers at Beartrap Fortress.”

Coldiron, feeling ready to just lay down and pass out for a week straight, could only nod her head in solemn acceptance, “I believe that is acceptable mayor, yes.”

With one long, sinuous main fore leg broodmother Chizirane lifted a wrapped morsel of food, bringing the thing close to her face to examine it with her eight eyes. The pony within the silken webbing was of, she was told, a breed called ‘pegsus’, the kind that had wings that allowed them the gift of flight. The pony was not dead, merely asleep in deep hibernation from the poison used upon it. It’s life would not end until Chizirane decided to use it as a meal, her own venom used to deal the killing blow and prepare its inner juices to be supped upon.

For now she was just satisfying one of her curious flights of whimsy as she gazed upon the sleeping creature, its light, brightly colored gold fur and even brighter blue mane fascinating her. Such odd creatures the surface bred. Their form and function were so ill suited to specialization to her eyes, yet she had to surmise there was a power and purpose to these diverse forms that didn’t seem to adhere to caste functions.

After all the ponies ruled a large portion of the surface and did regular battle with other surface creatures with great efficiency. Obviously there was power here, if she were keen minded enough to discern it.

Chizirane had spoken to ponies on occasion. She was among the first of her kind, the Aranea, to learn the tongue of ponies and other surface species. The surface had fascinated her for most of her life, from the moment she’d heard of it as a small ‘princess’, competing fiercely with her sisters for the coveted role of broodmother. She’d been laughed at as a whimsical sort. The Dreaming Princess, with her head webbed up with thoughts of the fabled surface realm. Chizirane didn’t mind the teasing and sneers of her peers. They had all underestimated her because of it and had paid the price of their arrogance, her sisters falling one by one to her schemes until she earned her place and right to start her own brood.

The ponies she’d spoken to were rather unappreciative of her stories. Honestly one would think they’d appreciate a bit of conversation and enlightening discourse before death. Most of them just screamed and pleaded for their lives. Quite odd. She still hoped to find one that might actually prove an intellectual equal, but she was starting to have doubts that the ponies were capable of higher thought. They seemed mostly interested fighting and breeding.

Well, perhaps her own ilk weren’t so different. The hunter-caste were obsessed with fighting, and the brood-caste like herself concerned with the perpetuation of the species. But at least they had structure to their fighting and breeding. The ponies just seemed to do it at random! Why, from what she’d gleaned they even bred between castes! Or tribes, or whatever they were called. So strange! But fascinating.

And tasty.

Really if any of the other broodmothers questioned her plans to establish a colony of the surface she’d just send them a small stock of ponies. One taste of pony blood and Chizirane knew she’d have other broodmothers falling over themselves with offers for trade. She chuckled, a chiming series of clicks inside her cavernous throne chamber. Her massive, bulbous body lounged on a luxurious hammock of the finest spun webs, her giant limbs hanging off the sides as she dangled the pony in front of her large, swollen face, the picture of broodmother beauty. Her slick black chitin was kept lustrously shiny by a small army of servants of the spinner cast that polished her hourly. Even if she were a broodmother living on the very border frontier of the Aranea’s realm she didn’t intend to let her appearance be anything less than if she were a broodmother in the Queen’s own court!

The doors to her throne chamber, a circular pair of half discs cast from obsidian, a common enough material deeper into the Aranea’s realm, swung open with smooth silence. Chizirane set aside the pony, hanging it off the bottom of her web hammock, and she with grace unlike her boated size, lowered herself towards the ground as an Aranea of the hunter caste slowly strode into the room.

She’d smelled his pheromones of shame and deference a moment later and instantly knew that Thirza was both in a foul mood and was a carrier of bad news. That was fine. It wouldn't spoil her mood. She was not the type to act like a little hissy hatchling at every bit of bad news. She knew Thirza well. He was young, but one of the more capable hunters to join her expedition. She could tell at a glance he’d been in a fight, his carapace marked by still healing wounds.

“Oh Thirza, my Thirza,” she said with a silk smooth tone, “You look dreadful! Sit, rest, perhaps have a bite to eat, and tell me what has befallen you.”

Thirza stiffened, his whole body going stock still. Chizirane had to laugh, her chiming laughter ringing once more through the chamber. He was so easy to rattle. His pride so prickly. But then, he was hunter-caste. That was normal.

“If it is all the same to you, broodmother, I shall decline food, as I have eaten recently to help my body recover,” he said, taking her offer of a seat.

Her throne room was filled in the center by a circle o plush web spun seats, the kind that a Aranea could rest his or her body upon with plenty of leg room. Thirza sat upon one of these as Chizirane walked to her throne, which sat in the center of this circle of chairs. Her throne was like an arch, four fang-like pillars of stone thrusting upward. Between them her own webbing spun a delicate, thick bowl of silk that she could rest upon and face any direction around her she chose. Taking her seat upon this throne she looked down at Thirza, seeing his stiff, uneasy state.

“Well then speak up, dear Thirza. What grand calamity has befallen you, hmm? I only set you to gather food supplies and test the defenses of the surface dwellers. Surely you could not have failed in such a simple task?”

Thirza clicked his mandibles in a fidgeting gesture, “Not failed, no. Food has been gathered from the surface, and their defenses tested. But resistance was more… impressive than expected, and some of the captured foodstock was lost…”

Chizirane couldn’t help herself, laughing yet more, seeming to startle Thirza.

“My broodmother…?” he asked.

“Hahahaha! Is that all? You come into my throne room, stinking from fang to thorax with shame, looking like you’ve been defeated upon some contest of breeding, and that is all that has happened?”

“But it is a setback is it not? I should expect full punishment for losing any foodstock and allowing myself to be beaten by mere-“

“Enough!” Chizirane’s switch in mood was instant and like a crack of thunder, her sharp tone silencing Thirza immediately. After a moment she continued, her voice light and playful once again, “This is exactly what I expected to happen. I’m pleased. The ponies resist because they are more than mere foodstock, dear Thirza. I was hoping your little raid would provoke a response. We’ve hidden ourselves for so many generations, with so few of us going to the surface save for exiles and hermits, that we know little of what the ponies are truly capable of.”

She leaned forward on her throne, eager light shining in her eight eyes, “Now Thirza, tell me everything you can about the ponies who resisted you so. I want no detail spared. This information, not the food, was your true goal, so do not disappoint me.”

So he did, and as he spoke Chizirane listened with rapt fascination, hanging on his every word.

And indeed she was not disappointed by what she heard.

The march back towards Beartrap Fortress reminded Trixie of a funeral procession. There was not much chatting and the Arrow Vale ponies almost one and all marched with the kind of dour purpose of those bearing caskets on their shoulders. Trixie couldn’t blame then. They were abandoning their homes, and for many they were leaving behind loved ones killed or taken by the Lurkers. There was some good cheer from the ones they had managed to rescue, and from the ponies trickling in from the outlying farmsteads, joining the march.

Pegasi, led by Blossomforth, had flown off to check those farmsteads, and the one point of brightness amid the gloom was that it seemed many of the farmsteaders were alright, the Lurkers having only attacked the town of Arrow Vale itself. It’d just been happenstance that Trixie and the other Legionnaires hadn’t seen anypony coming into town on their way down the road. Now, between the surviving townsponies and the farmsteaders there was a procession of somewhere between three and four hundred ponies making their way down the road. At least a score of wagons were being pulled along with the column, loaded with supplies and weapons. These ponies knew they were marching into what was likely to soon be another battle, and intended to be prepared for it.

Trixie tried to keep her own chin up. With all these extra ponies to help maybe they had a chance against the ursans! Yes, Trixie firmly believed she had to think positive. If she didn’t it’d be all too easy to slip into a serious funk of depression and fear, and Trixie was getting tired of being afraid. She still felt a stab of shame thinking about how she’d frozen up in the fight against the Lurkers, when one of them had snatched her with web and been pulling her towards the ceiling. She still hadn’t been able to muster the courage to thank Coldiron for breaking her out of that with some well timed words.

As much as Trixie wasn’t fond of that unicorn she had to admit Coldiron had stood fast against danger and helped pull them through in one piece. Well, mostly in one piece. She looked towards one wagon where, after returning from the farmsteads, Blossomforth was now trotting alongside. Blossomforth would keep peering into the wagon at the pony laying wrapped up in blankets within. Strong Back still hadn’t woken up from being knocked out by that huge Lurker with the gauntlets. Trixie was no true doctor but she knew enough to know a head wound like his might be the kind a pony never wakes up from.

Trixie didn’t like seeing the worry on Blossomforth’s face, and found herself trotting alongside the mare.

“Trixie knows you’re worried about him, but hovering and stressing yourself out won’t do him, or you, any good,” she said.

A wan smile appeared on Blossomforth’s face as she ran a hoof over her mane, “Can’t help it. I’m the big sister of a whole parcel of little siblings. Fussing and worrying is all part of the job description. Besides…”

Her voice turned pained, “It’s my fault he got hurt. If I hadn’t dropped my spear-“

“Horseapples,” declared Trixie firmly, “The only fault is that of the monsters that hurt him, hurt all the ponies in that town! It was utterly unprovoked. If you’re going to want to beat up anypony, save the energy to beat up those things, instead of yourself.”

Blossomforth nodded, but her eyes were gazing at Strong Back’s still form, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, “Yeah… I just hope he makes it. I’m getting really tired of seeing ponies die.”

“Trixie thinks he will survive. He seems a stubborn sort, too thick skulled to perish from such a little bump,” Trixie said, putting as much confidence as she could into her voice, “He’s survived the first few hours, which are the most telling.”

Blossomforth’s smile was wider this time as she gave Trixie a playful swat with one of her wings, “I know what you’re trying to do, Trixie… and thanks. It means a lot.”

Trixie tried to look away to hide the small rush of heat to her face, hoping the pegasus didn’t see her embarrassment, “Yes, well, Trixie accepts your praise with graciousness. She would not discourage more.”

“Well, little icebrand, it seems you got your wish. Arrow Vale is now indebted to the Legion.”

Coldiron tried not to bristle at her father’s bitter tone, focusing more on the simple relief that he and her brothers were still alive. They’d been brought in with the other farmsteaders joining the march to Beartrap Fortress, and Coldiron was glad enough to see her family, even if the bickering with her father began almost the moment they locked eyes with each other.

Solid Plough was a boulder of a stallion. His thick body might have seemed fat at casual glance but only the most foolish underestimated her father’s strength and stamina. His bulky frame hid thick bones and thicker muscle beneath a layer of fat that kept him warm in the chilly climate of the Western Barrier Lands. Solid Plough was a farmer through and through, and he seemed more reverent of the land and the seasons than he ever was of the Legion and Prince Terrato.

It’d been a point of contention between her and him since she was practically old enough to speak. She knew her mother had loved Solid Plough, and she’d never quite understood how the couple had managed to tolerate each other. Snowstorm had been a Legion mare to the core, and Coldiron had taken after her exactly. Yet she had so few memories of Snowstorm and Solid Plough ever fighting with each other, despite her father’s clear disdain for the Legion.

Perhaps her mother’s death had made things worse between her and her father, but honestly she didn’t recall any time she got along with the stallion. Her brothers were keeping their distance from her and Solid Plough, walking a good dozen paces back to give the feuding daughter and father their space.

“Father, I’ve never said I wanted all of Arrow Vale to be put in debt to the Legion,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Oh? I remember more than once you shouting at length about how much Arrow Vale owes the Legion for protection.”

“And you think that is an unfair claim? Legion lives protect these lands every day! You were saved from ursans by mother’s own hoof!”

Her father’s stern face flinched slightly at the mention of Snowstorm, but his voice was as uncompromising as ever, “You never understood, little icebrand. Doing one’s duty does not, and should not, ever incur unjust debt. I do not pester the Legion for more than fair payment for the food I grow, so they should not demand more than what is their fair due as soldiers.”

“And how do we do that!? How does the Legion take what it isn’t owed?” she asked back, voice heated.

Solid Plough merely nodded his head towards a wagon where Coldiron could see Trixie and Blossomforth walking and talking with each other.

“What of them? Did the Legion ask for their lives, or demand them? Is the Legion owed such power as to claim the lives of others no matter their willingness? Arrogance. Pure and utter arrogance. I ask no more from the land than what can be grown to feed my family and fellow ponies. I do not arrogantly demand the land yield more than it can. The Legion is like an overzealous farmer, tilling the soil until it is barren and dead and yet still asking for more.”

Coldiron shook her head, letting out a harsh breath, “I tire of this argument father. We do not, nor ever will, see eye to eye on this. The Legion does what it must…”

She sighed, “For what it may be worth I never wished for you, Hoedown, and Haybale to be put in danger. I’m sorry that things have gone the way they have, but the ursans are coming and none of us have any choice in what must now be done.”

“Little icebrand, whatever else I may say of your Legion, I don’t blame you for what is transpiring. And…” he looked at her, his brown eyes hard to read, as if the emotions were getting bottle necked before they reached them, ”…and I’m sure you’re mother would be proud of you.”

Coldiron could only nod her head at that, unable to meet her father’s eyes. Instead she focused on looking ahead, imagining in her mind’s eye she could see Beartrap Fortress past the miles of forest before them, and beyond that, the waiting horde of ursans.

After her enlightening talk with Thirza, Chizirane felt the pulsing heat of excitement reaching her every hair follicle. She was convinced more than ever that her decision to come to the surface had been a brilliant one. A gamble that would soon pay off many times over. The ponies may well prove to be a wealthy resource beyond anything she’d imagined. Aside from food, their bodies would be a fertile playground for her… other hobbies. Most marvelous of all was how the ponies seemed to be living generators of magic! Of course she’d been aware of the rumors that there were a few ponies who could generate what seemed to be magical effects by pouring raw mana from small horns on their heads, but that had not been confirmed until Thirza’s report made it clear beyond any doubt.

And if one species of pony used magic, it stood to reasons the others might as well, though perhaps in different ways.

She could barely contain herself as she moved on her long graceful legs down the wide, dark corridors of her underground outpost fortress. Though it was small compared to the citadels of a proper broodmother in the core territories, the outpost was still an impressive three level catacomb of tunnels and chambers, all spread out in the shape of a web from the central throne room she’d talked with Thirza in.

Workers of the spinner-caste prostrated themselves at her passing, as did the occasional member of the hunter-caste. Most of the four eights of hunters Thirza commanded were already waiting in their tunnels to the northeast, in preparation for the night soon to come. A token guard of one eight remained in the outpost, perhaps a dangerously light defense but Chizirane was not expecting attack. She’d left her rivals far behind in the core, and no surface force would easily approach the outpost without being detected by her scouts. Soon, the eager, restless hunters would get their chance at blood. It’d be pony blood or the blood of the creatures called ursans…? Well, that’d depend on how that hot blooded ‘Warchief’ of the ursans fared against the pony fortress. She’d not lain eyes upon it herself, but her scouts, her liaisons between herself and the surface, told her it seemed the ursans held an overwhelming advantage against what amounted to just a big pile of dirt with some sharp sticks poking out of it. Chizirane mused that the surface race’s concepts of a ‘fortress’ was so different from her own species.

An Aranea’s fortress was built to be a maze, a labyrinth of dead ends, cul de sacs, ambush points, choke points, and the numerous barricades that could slow or re-direct a rival forces hunters and spinner-caste fodder. The cardinal directions were not the only concern, but the dimensions of up and down as well. Aranea’s lived in an environment where corridors, and mobility, went vertical as often as horizontal. Hence why Chizirane didn’t slow down at all as she flipped down a massive pit, web springing from the spinnerets on her abdomen, and began to lower herself down the huge vertical tunnel lined with elegant columns.

At the bottom of the tunnel the mouth opened up into a hexagonal chamber filled with a faint green glow from magic charged gems webbed into the wall at regular intervals. Arranged in this room were a series of stone slabs that acted as tables for various purposes. Some held magically rune carved tools, others jars formed of hardened resin and blown glass. Other tables held her specimens. Ponies, three of them, one of each tribe. They were webbed to their respective tables, though with parts exposed when needed for her work.

Her assistant, Leyshi, was already in the chamber, as she often was, and the young little member of the brood-caste spun about at Chizirane’s arrival, an excited click o her legs sounding as Leyshi rubbed her forelegs together in greeting.

“Mistress! Hello!” Leyshi said in her chirpy tone of happiness, a sweet pheromone wafting from her to show her affection, “I didn’t expect you today! I was going to resume work on the winged one like you asked. Is that okay? Do you still want me to? Please tell me what you want me to do!”

Chizirane laughed and waved a leg, letting out a bit of her own pheromones to calm the excitable younger brood-caste. Unlike Chizirane, who was a true broodmother with the massive body of one who’d passed her trials and tasted the pleasures of metamorphosis, Leyshi was too young to take her trial, and may never do so. Not all born in the brood-caste took the trials. Some were better suited to remain in the small, thin, ugly bodies of a mere ‘handmaiden’ and act as a servant to one of the broodmothers. That was just the way of things. Some were suited to succeed, and control, others to serve. Leyshi was certainly suited to serve, and had done so for the many years since Chizirane had risen to broodmother. Part of Leyshi’s service was from the fact she shared a similar fascination with the surface that Chizirane did. She’d been an admirable aid in the study of the ponies. These three subjects had been caught just a few months ago, from various spots, much like the ones she’d been keeping for food. But these three were special, having proven resilient enough to survive her experimentation.

“Calm yourself, Leyshi. We are going to put our current tests on hold for a bit.”

At Leyshi’s faint burst of disappointed pheromones and the way her small, stick thin body sagged, Chizirane put a long leg under the other Aranea’s face and lifted it a bit. She tried not to laugh at the rather unusual accessory perched haphazardly on Leyshi’s face; a pair of glass circles connected by bits of metal that the ponies called ‘glasses’. They didn’t help Leyshi in any practical way, but Leyshi liked wearing them and Chizirane had no real reason to object.

“We are putting the tests on hold merely because I’d like to start a new battery of experiments with some new information that dear Thirza has brought us.”

“Oh! Thirzy! Is he okay? You sent him to fight ponies,” Leyshi nearly jumped up and down in place, her legs bending nervously, “Oh they are so much more dangerous than everyone thinks, broodmother! Thirzy wasn’t hurt was he?”

“He was injured somewhat but other than his ego he has come out of the experience no worse for wear,” said Chizirane, “More importantly he has confirmed certain suspicions we’ve had about the nature of the ponies. We will now start to test these theories based on our new information.”

“That will be fun,” said Leyshi, scampering over to the table where the unicorn pony was held, a female with white fur and a dark red mane. She ran a leg over the pony’s face almost tenderly, “They’re so cute. I wonder what their colonies are like? I wish I could see them in their natural habitat.”

Chizirane considered that, for a moment, tapping one of her legs in thought. Most of the testing she had in mind she could do on her own. Leyshi was a great assistant, but what Chizirane intended didn’t require a helper. Thirza was reliable enough to be trusted with a simple guard task…

“Leyshi,” she began, “If you like, I can arrange for you to go to the surface.”

“Really!?” that did get Leyshi to jump, nimbly sending the tiny Aranea nearly half a pace into the air, “Mistress, you’re so wonderful to me!”

Chizirane held up both her front legs to forestall Leyshi from literally bouncing off the walls, “How many times must I tell you, calm yourself. I swear it’s like you’re fresh from the eggsack, sometimes. If you want I can have you attached to Thirza’s eights when they go to the surface. Remember they are there as part of a hunt, so you must stay out of their way. When, and only when, Thirza tells you it’s safe are you to observe the ponies. You will have to listen to him, understand?”

“Oh, oh of course Mistress, I will! I’ll do whatever it takes. The surface! This is great! I’ll go get ready immediately.”

“That is for the best. Thirza will be leaving tonight. Do be careful. As you said, ponies are dangerous. So are the ursans,” Chizirane said with a warning tone, adding a whiff of harsh pheromones to emphasis her point, and Leyshi froze solid upon smelling them, “I’m serious Leyshi. None of your antics. Be cautious. If you sense any danger you are to flee. You are not to do anything that will reveal yourself or compromise Thirza and his hunters. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mistress, “ Leyshi said, her stance more subdued as she prostrated herself, legs splayed out, “I won’t disappoint you Mistress, you’ll see.”

Chizirane nodded, once, “I expect nothing less.”

Sending Leyshi to the surface was a calculated risk, but there was no one in her brood more suited to observing the ponies in their own environment. If she’d thought of it earlier she might have send Leyshi with Thirza before now, but she couldn’t deny that while this seemed a good idea she was nervous. The situation was going to be chaotic. When the ursans attacked the pony fortress anything might happen.

Well, no matter. Whatever the results, they will benefit the Aranea race… and of course, more importantly, benefit me.

Author's Note

Aranea. Neat sounding word. Rolls right off the tongue. Blame DnD for me picking that as the actual name for this race of spiders. In DnD they're shapeshifting spiders, but no worries, the Changelings already got that part covered in this universe, I just liked the name. Hope you all continue to enjoy and as always leave any comments or critiques below. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 9: Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 9: Calm Before the Storm

Beartrap Fortress was suddenly quite a bit livelier than it had been just a day before. The addition of several hundred more ponies probably had something to do with that. Even inside the relatively insulated office of Captain Runeward the sounds of the construction and buzz of chatter filtered through. Coldiron stood at ready attention in front of her Captain’s desk, with Sergeant Counter Charge standing next to her. Coldiron wasn’t sure what the sergeant was here, but she didn’t bother questioning. As for herself, she had just finished giving the Captain her full report of the mission to Arrow Vale.

Runeward sat silently for a moment, his eyes lost in thought almost to the point where Coldiron felt the urge to speak up and check if the old officer remembered she and Counter Charge were still there, but then he snapped his eyes up to her and a look of grim satisfaction lit up his face.

“Excellent work, Corporal. While I’m very disturbed by the events that have transpired in Arrow Vale and the fact that the old stories of the Lurkers contain a horrible truth we must now face, the actions of you and your squad of Heartlander recruits have been nothing short of exemplary. If we somehow manage to come out the other end of this alive there will be commendations to all of you. Not only have you survived an engagement with a dangerous and previously unknown enemy, but you’ve managed to come out of it with critical information concerning this enemy, as well as more than accomplishing your original mission goal of recruiting reinforcements from Arrow Vale.”

Coldiron couldn’t help a brief flash of pride at the Captain’s words, but it was heavily tempered by the reality of their present situation, “Sir, I thank you on behalf of my squad. The Heartlanders have more than proved themselves in my eyes. I… cannot say for certain if this is how I would have wanted to accomplish my mission concerning Arrow Vale, Too many of the town’s ponies lost their lives due to the Lurkers and it is a blow that abandoning the town was our only option.”

“True, but given our need of extra hooves to defend Beartrap Fortress it remains a truth that having so many able bodied ponies here to take up additional arms may make the difference when the ursans finally attack, which I fear is going to be soon. I trust you’re aware of the numbers massing right across the Bear Bones?”

“Yes sir,” Coldiron replied with a clipped tone that she hoped hid her worry. She’d heard already from other Legionnaires that the ursans were appearing in the hundreds, likely soon to be near a thousand, on the other side of the river, just keeping to the tree line. It was unusual. Ursans were not a subtle nor patient race in Coldiron’s experience. She wondered why, if they were already gathering so close to the fortress, why the attack hadn’t already begun.

“I can see you’re thinking what I have,” said Runeward with a stone smile, “It is strange the bears haven’t already come charging across the river. We’ve sabotaged the bridge already, but that will hardly slow them down. I think it’s possible they’re waiting for something.”

“What would they wait for?” asked Coldiron, “Reinforcements? They already have enough numbers to more than match our defenses.”

“All we can do is guess, unfortunately,” said Runeward, “but given I’m not a stallion prone to accept coincidence I’m willing to bet that the emergence of the Lurkers is connected to the ursans. It’s been a long time since the bears got bold enough to gather in such large numbers and at the same time a race of giant spiders appears from beneath our lands? I’m not willing to chalk that up to random chance. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when the ursans attack, we find ourselves also under attack by the Lurkers.”

It was a horrifying thought. While Coldiron had experienced firsthoof that the Lurkers, while terrifying, were killable, she didn’t relish having to deal with the speedy, tricky bastards while also fending off the powerful might of the ursans. While she understood Captain Runeward’s logic in denying coincidence, she was still surprised by the notion. Surely the ursans and Lurkers couldn’t be working together? Ursans were not, to her knowledge, team players. But she supposed that, ultimately, it was better to assume the worst.

“There’s nothing for it if that’s the case, sir,” she said, “We’ll just have to defeat all enemies, no matter how many come our way.”

Runeward laughed, “As pragmatic and eager as ever. Good. I want you to work with Sergeant Counter Charge. I’m giving you a field promotion, Corporal. From now on consider yourself a Sergeant, and in charge of the new 1st and 2nd Arrow Vale volunteer companies. Select anypony you find suitable to promote to corporal and get your squads organized. Sergeant Counter Charge will assist you with that and then both of you are to work on sweeping the area for any Lurker tunnels that might be near the fort. If you find any, I want them collapsed. I want this done by morning. Also, you’ll be in charge of reporting Quick Needles findings on the Lurker corpse you brought back. If he finds anything we can use as a weakness in his autopsy I want to hear about it immediately.”

It was a lot to suddenly take in and Coldiron found herself stunned for several seconds trying to get her brain wrapped around her sudden promotion and new duties. Organizing the Arrow Vale volunteers into two new companies wasn’t going to be easy, especially wile conducting their first task of searching for Lurker tunnels. Her mind reeled trying to decide who among her hometown ponies might be suited to being squad leaders. She felt a nudge on her shoulder and glanced over, seeing Counter Charge giving her an encouraging smile.

“Relax, Sergeant. You’ve earned this. I’d already had my eye on you for a recommendation for promotion before Arrow Vale, and your performance there cinched it with the Captain. You’ll do fine, and I’m here to help you with the basics. You think you’re ready to get to work?”

Coldiron could only nod, at first dumbly, then with greater confidence as she took a deep breath, “Yes. Yes sir.”

Trixie never imagined in her life that she could all but inhale such bland, poor tasting food yet thoroughly enjoy it. Then again she usually didn’t get this hungry except perhaps after a particularly intense performance. In those cases she’d often been so flush with bits from a grateful and awed audience that she could afford to sate her hunger at the best restaurant in town.

For a moment a pained clench filled Trixie as she remembered that it’d be a very long time before she could perform on stage in front of others and enjoy the fruit of her own chosen profession. Assuming she didn’t die in the next couple of days. And even if she did survive this upcoming battle how many more would she have to face in the four years she’d be stuck serving the Legion? How many more life threatening perils would she have to overcome before she was a free mare again?

“Somepony’s got a frowny face,” said a chipper voice next to her as Blossomforth sat down at the table next to Trixie in the mess hall of Beartrap Fortress. The pegasus was wearing a bright smile, eyes alight with a contentment Trixie knew she couldn’t match.

“Trixie is not frowny facing,” she said firmly, “She is far too dignified for frowny faces! Trixie is brooding.”

Blossomforth’s grin didn’t falter, “Didn’t know you’d found a stallion around here already.”

Trixie blinked, then her face turned the color of a fresh apple, “I… Trixie doesn’t think you heard the right word there and would request that you get your mind out of the gutter.”

After a soft laugh Blossomforth patted Trixie on the back with one of her wings, taking a bite of the gruel that passed for ‘rations’ at the fort, “Mmmph, this stuff isn’t bad. Yeah, sorry, guess I’m just in a joking mood. You want to brood in peace I can stop.”

“No,” Trixie said, perhaps more quickly than she realized, “No, it’s quite fine. Trixie could use some joking. Is Strong Back dong well?”

“Yup. Sort of. He’s resting comfortably at least and that stuffy doctor stallion said that Strong Back’s probably going to make a recovery. You know, assuming we win against the bears. Which I’m sure we will. I mean, have you seen what the ponies around here did while we were gone? That hill’s got twice as many pits and spikes on it now, and I’m pretty sure the bridge wasn’t busted up when we left.”

Trixie nodded. She had seen. Beartrap Fortress had been given extra fortification in the past two days. Not only were there additional wood spike barriers and pit traps on the muddle hills leading up to the fortress palisade, the gates had been reinforced with additional wood braces, and the interior of the fort had been given fortification in a series of dug trenches with spiked edges. This created a series of fallback positions in case the main wall was breached, or the gates destroyed. From what Trixie had heard from talk among the Legionnaires the center building of the fort was also being reinforced so that it could be a third, final fallback position for some kind of ‘last stand’ scenario.

While it was clear that Blossomforth took these preparations with good cheer and a positive outlook, Trixie just saw it as a form of desperation on the part of the Legion ponies. As if they were expecting the traps to fail, the wall to fall, and for them to have to make a final stand in the center building. It was like admitting defeat before the battle was even begun. Then again, perhaps that was just Trixie’s dour mood talking. She envied Blossomforth, her optimism. From her energetic stance to her bright smile, to the way she seemed to savor the gruel, it was as if the pegasus mare wasn’t at all worried that perhaps in less than a day she’d be fighting for her life, and that she might not make it. That she might end up in the jaws of a ursan beast.

The thought sparked a surge of anger inside Trixie, not at Blossomforth, but at the ursans. She almost understood why Coco Pommel seemed to so easily go berserk in battle. It was naturally enraging in a way that seemed to touch an otherwise buried part of her pony instincts, the thought of ponies being killed in such a manner. Trixie hoped she could tap into this feeling later. She didn’t want to freeze up in fear again… though she still didn’t know if that was because of the nature of the Lurkers that caused her to freeze up sometimes or if it was battle in general that did that. She just knew she didn’t want to look like a coward again, or to cost anypony their lives because of it. Great and powerful heroes didn’t freeze in the middle of a fight. Right? Trixie was pretty sure that was a rule.

Before she could ruminate on the thought for long Trixie noticed a commotion coming towards her and Blossomforth. Coco Pommel was rather quickly trotting with a flushed and uneasy look on her face as a group of half a dozen of their fellow Equestrian recruits followed her. At first Trixie couldn’t hear what was being said but in a few moments she could pick up the conversation as Coco was making her way right towards her and Blossomforth.

“Was it scary, going down into the tunnel?” asked one mare, one Trixie recognized from her rather long legs and neck and two-toned blue mane as the unicorn from spell array practice, Allie Way.

“I’m more interested in hearing about these new monsters,” said a brown earth pony mare with a stark blonde mane and blue eyes, “D-did you actually kill one of them? I saw the body that was brought in. You actually fought that?”

The other ponies following Coco were asking similar questions, all to Coco’s awkward stammered half-answers, “It was- I mean, I guess I was scared, I don’t… well, I didn’t do much, a-and I don’t really want to talk about… Trixie! Blossomforth!”

Coco perked up when she actually saw Trixie and Blossomforth, immediately rushing over, “Thank goodness. They won’t stop asking me things about what happened.”

Trixie blinked, looking at the eager and curious faces of the other recruits, and she stared blankly at Coco, “Well? Trixie doesn’t understand why you’d have problems answering.”

Coco made a small whining sound and bit her lower lip, glancing at Blossomforth, who sighed with a knowing smile as she elbowed Trixie.

“Hey!” Trixie rubbed her shoulder where she’d been elbowed. Blossomforth ignored her, instead flying up a bit and waving her arms to get the other recruits’ attention.

“Okay, okay, settle down everypony, don’t crowd, and don’t pester. Coco and the rest of us went through a lot out there and we’re looking forward to a bit of downtime. You want stories, cool, just take a seat, don’t ask everything at once, then me and Trixie will take your questions one at a time. Now, Coco, why don’t you grab some grub and have a seat, take a load off?”

Coco gave Blossomforth a grateful smile as the other recruits, all sharing shrugs with each other, began to sit at the table either next to or across from Trixie and Blossomforth. Coco went and got a bowl of gruel from the cook pot and joined them in short order, just as everypony was settling down. Trixie looked around at the recruits and quickly assessed the situation. What she was seeing was not just eagerness, but also a certain nervous need. These ponies were all scared, just like she was. They knew they had dangers to face in the ursans, and hearing that there was a whole new threat like these spiders was frightful. Yet here was Trixie, Blossomforth, and Coco, three mares who, like them, were just raw recruits from the peaceful Heartland, and they’d all come back alive from a battle with these new monsters. These ponies wanted to hear about their victory, as a way to calm their own nerves, to hear proof that recruits just like they were could fight and live. They needed some kind of assurance that things weren't hopeless.

Trixie took a deep breath, and before the questions could start flying she drew the attention of the table by loudly clearing her throat and leaning forward, placing her forehooves on the table.

“Trixie imagines you all dearly wish to know the details of our little adventure? Well, rest assured if it is a story you want, Trixie shall be your incomparable bardess! Listen in awe, to the tale of Arrow Vale and the battle of the tunnels!”

Blossomforth chuckled slightly, giving Trixie a coy looked that seemed to say ‘Really?’. Coco Pommel just looked grateful not to be the center of attention for the time being. Trixie paused for an appropriately dramatic moment to make sure she had her audience’s undivided attention, and then she launched into her story. She had done this a hundred times before. Magical tricks and feats were the bread and butter of her performances back home, but they were all supplemented by no shortage of grand tales, amusing anecdotes, and humorous stories of her travels. Normally she embellished and even, yes, outright lied to make the show (and consequently herself) seem better, but in this case she found that embellishment was almost unnecessary.

After all, she actually did fight horrible monsters this time. And hardly by herself, but alongside worthy and valued comrades. Oddly, while Trixie had thought she might have been irked to share the spotlight, she found she kind of enjoyed telling of Blossomforth and Coco Pomell’s courage and Coldiron’s skill, making her companions’ come off as even greater than she. It was a strangely satisfying feeling, and she relished the looks from her audience as she spun the tale… a growing audience, she noted, as before she was halfway done not only were there more of the Heartlander recruits gathering around their table, but a number of the regular Legion ponies were also finding seats nearby to listen in.

By the time she got to climax of the adventure, their deadly battle and flight from the giant Lurker with the gauntlets and the collapse of the tunnel they barely escaped from, just about everypony in the mess hall was now listening to Trixie. She hadn’t even noticed when she’d jumped up onto the table and had started to use bits of her illusion magic to create images to emphasize parts of the story. When the last image showed her, Coco, Blossomforth, and Coldiron emerging from the hole with the rescued Arrow Vale ponies Trixie let the image fade away in a puff of blue smoke.

“And so we rose from the darkness, battered, bruised, yet very much alive and victorious!”

She finished with a small bow, sweat trickling off her brow. There was a brief silence, followed suddenly by the stamp of hooves as many of the ponies gathered applauded. Trixie accepted it with a small smile, hopping off the table and sitting down once more to catch her breath.

There were a few cheers, a lot of buzzing conversation, and in general the mood in the room seemed to be significantly less tense. Trixie and her friends got a few pats on the shoulder, and even a number of the usually stoic or grim Legion ponies gave small nods or smiles at the group. Amid it all Trixie noticed Allie Way nearby, looking thoughtful, and still stiff, as if she was a wound up spring. Trixie slid over to the mare, giving her a questioning look.

“Still troubled?” she asked.

Allie Way jumped slightly, then looked a tad mortified as she said, “I’m sorry. I was listening to your story, but… while I guess everypony else is encouraged, I just… can’t feel better about any of this.”

Coco, who’d finished her gruel during the story, and was now sitting on the other side of the table, nodded her head and put on a small smile, “I feel the same way Miss Allie Way-

“Oh, please, just Allie.”

“Okay, Allie. I do feel the same way you do. I’m so nervous it’s like it’s the night before a big show and Suri has me working all night to finish a line in time with no breaks,” said Coco, rubbing her forehooves together and looking apologetically at Trixie, “Not that your story wasn’t lovely. It’s true we… we won, sort of, when we fought those spiders. But it’s scary, thinking about the next few days. We’re going to all have to fight again soon, and even if we can win it won’t be easy, will it?”

Trixie frowned. She’d rarely gotten anywhere in life by thinking about how things wouldn’t be easy, but she couldn’t deny that it wasn’t as if Coco and Allie didn’t have plenty to be concerned about. When the ursans came, there’d be a lot of them. And unlike the Lurkers, who weren’t physically tough if it wasn’t one of the big ones, even a small ursan could rip a pony to pieces with little trouble. Just thinking of that first fight on the trail left Trixie feeling queasy.

“Trixie can’t deny it will be hard,” she said, “and frightening. However, Trixie believes that if we let ourselves think too much about how bad things might be, that will just make it more certain the worst will happen.”

“Yeah, but…” Allie Way swallowed, her eyes looking downcast, “those ursan monsters are the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if I can fight them and not just… freeze up.”

That Trixie had little she could say to, as she had the exact same problem herself with the Lurkers. As she struggled to try and come up with something inspiring to say to the clearly terrified mare, Blossomforth came over and gave Allie Way a quick shoulder bump with one of her wings, “Hey, there’s no shame in being scared. We all feel the same way. That’s why you’ll be fine out there. You got us to watch your back. You freeze up; I’ll swoop in and snap you out of it. You just got to promise to do the same for any of us, right?”

Allie Way blinked her large blue eyes, seemingly at a loss for a second before, slowly, a relaxed smile spread across her face as she nodded firmly, “Yes, I will. Thank you.”

“See? No worries!” said Blossomforth, and Trixie found herself as envious as ever of the other mare’s attitude. Yet, despite that envy, Trixie found herself not minding it at all. It was disquieting enough, the wait that they’d need to endure before the ursan attack. At the very least she could spend it with some ponies she found she actually liked. It’d been a long time since Trixie had been around ponies she thought she could consider friends.

Now if only she could shake the feeling that she might soon lose them…

“Perimeter check finished on the south end, Sergeant,” reported Alpine with a smart salute, one that Coldiron felt a tad odd receiving considering up until a short while ago they’d been of the same rank. She returned the salute, nodding for Alpine to continue her report.

“We made a very thorough check both physically and with magic,” Alpine said, nodding towards the south tree line, “If there are any tunnels dug by these spiders of yours they’re either too deep to detect or they can somehow block magical detection. The woods themselves are also clear. No ursans have snuck across to give us worries, yet.”

“Good work,” Coldiron said, shaking the strange feeling of talking to Alpine from a position of authority, “How are the Arrow Vale volunteers? No trouble?”

“What? Nah! They’re an alright bunch,” said Alpine, “Some of them are pretty green, almost as bad as our Heartlander recruits in a few cases, but hey, they’re farmers, so what can you expect? At least most have held a spear before, and a lot of them seem pretty pissed about what happened in their home… eh, sorry Sarge, that’s your home too.”

“Yes,” said Coldiron, tone neutral, “It is, and I hope to see it occupied by ponies again, after we win this battle.”

“Yeah,” Alpine turned her gaze west towards the river. Even from the distance they stood at it was possible to make out the movement in the trees across the rapidly flowing water, “Won’t be long, I’m thinking, before we see just how well this old fort can hold up.”

Coldiron took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before looking back towards the stout, simple palisade walls of Beartrap Fortress, “I think the old girl will surprise us.”

“Here’s hoping, eh?” said Alpine with a wink, “Either way, I figure it’ll be one hell of a fight. Something others can talk about over the campfire, no matter how it turns out.”

Coldiron let out a short, humorless laugh, “Never was much for stories, personally.”

Alpine quirked an eyebrow, “What do you do for fun, then, Sarg?”

“Train.”

“Horsemanure.”

“…crochet…”

“What was that Sarge, didn’t quite catch it?”

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything. Carry on, I’m going to go check on the 2nd company, see how they’re coming along with the north end,” said Coldiron quickly as she rapidly trotted away from the snickering Alpine.

For all that she used it as an excuse to get away from the awkward conversation Coldiron did intend to go check in with Counter Charge. The organization of the Arrow Vale ponies into two impromptu volunteer companies had been an arduous task, and one they’d had to do rapidly in order to get them to work on the task of checking for possible Lurker tunnels. Strictly speaking the two units weren’t even full Legion companies, which consisted of a hundred ponies; five platoons of twenty which in turn were made of up of five squads of four. Because none of the ponies from Arrow Vale were officially joining the Legion this temporary status meant a rougher organization based on which ponies worked best together, knew each other the best, and had some mutual agreement over who was best suited to be in charge. Basically the “1st Arrow Vale Volunteers” was eighty eight ponies, most of whom were young bucks and mares who worked as lumber ponies and knew each other all from their mutual profession. They were led by Temp Sergeant Wood Chips, a large, burly brown earth pony mare with a stark white mane. Many of them still carried their axes from their lumber work along with the spare spears and crossbows taken from the fortress armory.

The “2nd Arrow Vale Volunteers” was mostly filled with the older ponies who were still fit to fight, just over seventy ponies strong and led by Mayor Straight Lace, now also a Temp Sergeant. Coldiron’s father was also part of the 2nd, which had surprised her when she’d learned he’d volunteered. At least her brothers were safe. Well, as safe as they could be given the situation. The rest of the Arrow Vale ponies were still expected to help in the fighting if things became dire, which they no doubt would, but they wouldn’t be expected to jump onto the front line immediately.

Both companies were mixed arms. Normally a Legion company had platoons set up by designated purpose, like the heavy bolter platoons that’d have the large crossbows mounted to lay down fire on the ursans, or the pegasi platoons with their lances. But the Arrow Vale companies lacked the training with those kind of specialized weapons and tactics and so would fight shoulder to shoulder with light crossbows and spears. They’d been given basic armor, such as what was available, and banners had rather quickly been stitched from gray cloth and blue thread so each company had a signal flag to designate their position on the field.

Coldiron spotted the flag of the 1st Arrow Vale on the north edge of the forest in short order, the gray square with its bright blue “1 AV” flying in the stiff, cold breezing blowing in from the west mountains. She saw the ponies moving in rough groups of around a dozen, impromptu platoons, in a wide line amid the trees, pounding on the ground with spear butts or axe heads, while a few of the unicorns worked magic with glowing horns; detection spells hastily taught that could sense lifeforce at close range. No good for long range recon, but good for finding trouble in the confined spaces of the thick forests of the barrier lands or, as luck would have it, sensing if any Lurkers might be below them. At least in theory.

Really they were taking shots in the dark about how to find Lurker tunnels. After all, nopony had ever fought such creatures before, at least not until the attack on Arrow Vale. Coldiron felt more than unsettled by the dubious “honor” of being one of the only Legionnaires to have fought this new threat.

When she was spotted approaching the north tree line a few calls went up and before long Counter Charge’s blue form came trotting out to meet her just outside the thick wall of evergreens. Counter Charge’s brow was dripping sweat and it was clear she’d been working as hard as the ponies she was commanding to sweep the area.

“Sergeant,” she said with a smart salute, which Coldiron returned.

“Sergeant. How’s it look out here?” Coldiron asked.

“Clean as we can surmise,” said Counter Charge with a shrug, “Which to be honest I’m not confident is all that much. Never imagined I’d have to worry about an enemy digging up from underneath my hooves, and our detection spells aren’t really set up for penetrating underground. Sure it doesn’t look like there’s anything down here, just from whacking at the dirt trying to hear any hollow noises or cause a collapse, and sure our spells aren’t sensing anything besides the normal amount of regular sized bugs… but how much can we rely on that? We could have a whole army of those things underneath us and for all we know they’re too deep to sense, or can ward themselves with magic of their own, or just haven’t dug high enough yet for us to see but can afford to wait until we’re flank deep in ursans before tunneling up.”

Counter Charge let out a frustrated sigh and Coldiron completely shared the other mare’s sentiments. There were still far too many unknowns for her to be comfortable going into battle with this kind of enemy out there, but they didn’t have much choice. The ursans would be attacking any day, perhaps even that very night, and they didn’t have time to do more than this.

“Well, we’ve done all we can,” she said, “2nd company has finished sweeping the south. All that’s left is the east. If both companies work together the east can be cleared in record time, afterward we can return to the forth and rest up.”

Counter Charge nodded, giving Coldiron a smile that made her look at the other mare questioningly.

“What?” Coldiron asked.

“Nothing," replied Counter Charge, "it's just that I’m supposed to be helping you get used to commanding a company but you seem to be settling into your new rank pretty well.”

Coldiron grunted, looking away, “I can’t really say much to that. Right now I’m just concentrating on the tasks that need doing… “ she glanced around to make sure nopony was nearby who could overhear her and Counter Charge before saying, “Truth be told I’m as nervous as I was my first day as a recruit. I don’t want to panic when the fight starts, but I keep wondering if I’ll be able to give orders clearly. Leading a squad or platoon is simple enough because I’m right there to see everypony and can figure out what needs doing, but a company is larger. If I can’t see everypony and how they’re doing how can I give the right orders? What if they don’t hear my orders?”

The understanding nod from Counter Charge helped relax Coldiron somewhat as the older mare said, “I know what you mean. It’s a matter of delegation and trust. When the fighting starts and you can’t see the whole picture you got to trust your gut and your subordinates. You’ll have Temp Corporals leading the platoons. Trust that when you give an order, they’ll ferry it down and carry it out on the squad and platoon level. It’s no different than trusting your squad to watch your back, just a larger scale.”

“I… understand,” Coldiron said, taking a deep breath, “Anyway, shall we go link up with 2nd company? I want to get this done while we still have daylight.”

Counter Charge’s smile deepened, “Lead on, Sergeant.”

“Oh, wow, that’s pretty gross,” said a voice from behind Quick Needle and the stallion stiffened at both the interruption of his work, the invasion of his workspace, and the particular voice in question being both instantly recognizable as his most unbearably cheerful and energetic of recent patients.

He turned, looking at Blossomforth standing in the doorway of one of his small operating rooms and he glared at her, “Recruit, I don’t believe you have permission to be in here.”

The pegasus mare, whose incredibly colorful mane both gave him a headache and oddly fascinated him, gave him a innocent grin as she held up a bowl of gruel in one hoof, as if it were some kind of peace offering.

“Oh, I know, but I talked to one of your orderlies and they said you’d been working all day with nothing to eat, soooooo, viola! Also, totally ulterior motive, I was here to visit my buddy Strong Back too!”

Quick Needle eyed the gruel, his stomach giving a growl that utterly destroyed any possibility of claiming that he wasn’t hungry. With a resigned sigh he nodded and pointed at a table along one wall, “Set it down. I’ll eat in a moment. Your friend is well enough. Resting. I doubt he’ll be awake for at least another day or so. In that way he is most fortunate. However this goes, he won’t have to suffer any of it.”

Blossomforth’s face turned sour as she set the bowl down and she trotted closer, “You’re pretty dour for a pony who spends his time helping others. Anyways, how’s this going? You learn anything neat?”

She was referring to the subject on the table; the body of the Lurker that she and her squad had brought in earlier that day. He’d been working at dissecting the body since it’d arrived. If he was being honest with himself he’d been so enraptured with his work he’d forgotten all about food, or taking any breaks. His orderlies were more than capable of preparing the hospital for receiving wounded for the upcoming battle. This work, any findings he could garner about the bodies of these new enemies of the Legion, was top priority. That had been an order from Captan Runeward himself, but even without that order Quick Needle would have insisted he work on the body. If the worst came to pass and the fortress fell there was a squad of volunteer pegasi who would each carry a copy of his findings along with Coldiron’s own report of the action in Arrow Vale that would hopefully reach Skywoad Keep and the rest of the Legion at large.

Even if everypony in Beartrap Fortress died there was still a chance the Legion would be informed of their new enemy, and it was Quick Needles duty to make sure that report had as much information about the Lurker’s physical attributes as possible.

“Look for yourself…” he said, gesturing for Blossomforth to approach the table. He was still irritated at her presence, but less so in at least she showed some interest in his work. He’d accept t for now. Besides, her queasiness as she looked at the body gave him some small sense of vengeance at her intrusion.

“Our subject, on the surface, resembles a member of the arachnid family, and shares a number of qualities with the normal members of that species that you may be familiar with, albeit all at a far larger scale. It’s where this specimen differs from normal arachnids that is of particular fascination. First of all the brain case contains three distinct chambers for three organs, all functioning in concert like a single brain. It’s possible that the destruction of one chamber might not be fatal, but thus far I cannot discern what each separate ‘brain’ might be meant for. There are, you can see here, here, and here sizeable glands underneath the head, and on the sides of the thorax and abdomen. I think these are for putting out and sensing pheromones; powerful ones. I’d theorize these pheromones play a critical role in this species' ability to communicate, but without a live specimen to test on I couldn’t say for sure.”

Blossomforth gulped, looking at the dissected body on the table with the kind of revolted fascination of a pony who’d seen a train wreck and couldn’t bring themselves to look away, “Neato. Uh, anything else?”

Quick Needle nodded, smiling ruefully as he enjoyed his victim’s discomfort, though he did feel a bit of guilt as she had come to bring him food when he was being too foolish to remember to eat. He supposed he’d show her mercy and make the last bit quick, as he had discovered one other thing he found of interest.

“After hearing the report of your encounter with them, specifically in how they seemed to manipulate magical energy with runes made from their web, I kept a close look out for any organs that might be related. You see unicorn magic is somewhat based on the physical characteristics of their horns, including the cartilage inside the horn that is made from a magically reactive substance. And… look here…”

He pointed with a hoof at the cut open portion of the abdomen above the spinnerets. Inside were the organs that generated the webbing, but between those was a set of what looked like small, thin bones, “These are rods of cartilage. Cartilage that is almost identical to the magically resonant cartilage found in the horn of a unicorn. I’m almost certain these are critical organs that allow this species to manipulate their own magic, or take the magic from other sources, at least, and store them in these bits of cartilage. Again I can’t be sure without a live specimen to experiment with, but that is my theory. So, if you ever happen to fight one of these creatures again, aim for this spot and you may disable their ability to use magic. Or not. Need more tests.”

Blossomforth blinked, and then nodded with a fresh smile, “That’s actually pretty useful. You should let the bosses know this stuff.”

“I intend to, once I compile my full report,” he said, then after a second of uneasy silence he said, “In any case thank you for bringing me the meal. I’ll eat and take a short break.”

The smile on Blossomforth turned infectiously sweet as she bopped him on the head with a wing, “See that you do. Doctor’s orders!”

With that she quickly left the room, leaving Quick Needle a tad flabbergasted and freshly irritated as he grumbled under his breath and went to grab the bowl of gruel.

It was getting into evening by the time most of the preparations to make Beartrap Fortress as fortified and ready to resist assault as possible had been finished. Many of the regular soldiers had been given the rest of the evening to rest and unwind, with guard details in place with proper rotations set up, but otherwise everypony allowed to rest and spend the remainder of the daylight hours as they wished.

Everypony except the command staff consisting of each company’s commanding Sergeant and Captain Runeward. The Captain had called a staff meeting to prepare the actual unit placement and tactics for the upcoming fight, and as each pony shuffled into the long, rectangular meeting room on the central keep’s main floor Counter Charge could feel the unease in the air. Everypony was nervous, charged, and eager for the battle to come. Not out of bloodlust, but because no solider liked the waiting. The sooner the battle began the sooner it would be over and they’d all know where they stood; victorious, or resting with their ancestors.

Besides herself and Coldiron there were four other Sergeants in charge of the companies that comprised the fortress’s single regiment. Technically she was in command of the 4th company of the Beartrap 1st Regiment, but she also had command of the recruit company from the Heartland. Without a spare Sergeant to take direct command of the Heartlanders she’d appointed Alpine as a temporary commander for the unit while she would direct 4th company. Meanwhile Coldiron would command the two volunteer companies on her own; and Counter Charge was confident the young unicorn could handle the responsibility.

Everypony took seats on simple wooden chairs arranged near a blackboard at one end of the rectangular room, and Counter Charge was struck by how much it looked like a simple classroom as opposed to a meeting place to discuss military planning that would affect the lives or deaths of hundreds of soldiers. Captain Runeward was waiting for them, already standing by the blackboard, a grm faced teacher ready to begin class.

“Good evening Sergeants, I’m proud of how much you and your ponies have gotten done in such a short amount of time. I believe this fortress is as ready as it can be for what the ursans will throw at us,” Runeward gave a thin smile, “One way or another there will be blood paid for this ground. Now we need to decide on just how to go about making sure it’s more ursan blood than Legion blood.”

There were a couple of dark chuckles, but otherwise the room remained silent, the Sergeants all knowing the seriousness of the situation. Captain Runeward directed his attention to the blackboard, where there was already a chalk drawing of the fortress and the surrounding area, oriented with the north facing upwards as was standard. The fortress looked like little more than a rough diamond shape with one of its points pointed towards the west, where numerous small boxes marked traps and spiked obstacles. Further out to the west the crude outline of the Bear Bones river, the bridge across it marked with an X to indicate its status as already sabotaged, then the dense markings of the forest beyond. There were similar markings to indicate the forests to the north, south, and east. The detail on the fort showed the inner buildings and fortifications, and Counter Charge noted an unusual ring around the space between the buildings and the inner keep.

“At present our scouts report anywhere from seven hundred to over a thousand ursans gathering on the west bank of the Bear Bones,” Runeward began, using magic to levitate up a piece of chalk and make several markings on the west forest, “behind the treeline here. If they follow normal ursan organization patterns we’re likely looking at a mass charge of several staggered waves, with their strongest, most prominent braves chagrining in first, and the runts who hadn’t earned the ‘honor’ of first blood following behind. We’ve seen no indication of titans or heavy infantry, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there, hiding deeper in the forest.”

Counter Charge felt only marginally better at that news. Ursan titans were… nightmares to fight. The gigantic transparent creatures of solid starstuff could out mass a house even as infants and the adults could smash apart the most solid fortifications with relative ease. The only good thing about them was their size made them easy to mark out on a battlefield and concentrate fire on, making attacking larger Legion holdings like Skywoad Keep that held sizeable artillery both mundane and magical suicide for even the mighty titans. But if there’d been one or two here to go against Beartrap Fortress their chances of survival would’ve dropped considerably.

“We can’t be sure,” Runeward went on, “which area of the fortress will get hit hardest but ursans rarely fight with subtly so in all likelihood it’ll be our west walls and gate that take the brunt of the attack. Therefore-“

He began to draw rectangles along the west two walls of the diamond shape of the fortress, numbering them as he went, “-1st and 2nd company will be assigned to the southwest wall and 3rd and 4th company will take the northwest. 5th company will be held in reserve here by the central keep to reinforce as needed. We’ll be placing the Arrow Vale volunteers on the other walls, 1st company on the southeast, 2nd company on the northeast. If the ursans swing around to try to hit those walls or gates 5th company will reinforce the volunteers. No doubt the ursans will take a beating getting there from our spell arrays and bolters along the way.”

That much Counter Charge knew to be true. The point of the diamond shape of Beartrap Fortress was to ensure that any force that tried to move to flank any end of the fortress still faced at least two walls worth of unicorns firing spells from arrays and earth ponies firing the heavy crossbow bolts. If the ursans intended to swing forces towards the eastern walls they’d do so under fire. Still, something was bothering Counter Charge.

“Sir?” she asked.

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Where will the Heartlander company be stationed?” she asked, “They’re technically under my command, still, correct?”

She saw a brief flash of discomfort cross the Captain's face, but he nodded slowly, “Yes, that they are. I was just getting to them.”

He drew a final rectangle near the west gate, “The Heartlander company will be stationed here, as a defensive block against the ursans in case the west gate is breached. If the ursans crack the gate the Heartlanders will hold them as best they can until reinforcements from 5th company arrive.”

Counter Charge grit her teeth, keeping her tone level as she said, “Sir, permission to speak frankly?”

Again that flash of discomfort in Runeward’s eyes, “Granted.”

“Sir, I think that is a… questionable location to place the Heartlanders. They’re still very raw and have only had one engagement with the ursans up close.”

“An engagement where by your own admission to me the Heartlanders performed better than expected,” said Runeward, his own voice even despite the tightness in his eyes, “I’m placing them where I am because I wish to keep them from the initial brunt of fighting. As long as the west gate holds the Heartlanders will not need to fight, much. If 5th company reinforces but we still need more we can use the Heartlanders as a final reserve force, but otherwise I’d prefer to keep them somewhere out of the way.”

“Unless we lose the west gate,” Counter Charge said.

“Yes, unless we lose the west gate,” Runeward agreed, “But it will be up to you, my true Legionnaires, to ensure that doesn’t happen. The ursans will be more likely to try and overcome our walls anyway. Their bloodthirsty nature will drive them to attack where our soldiers are at, not spend time trying to batter the gate while under fire.”

Counter Charge took a deep breath, “True…”

“Actually, sir,” Coldiron spoke up, “If I can interject a thought?”

Runeward glanced at the young Sergeant he’d so recently promoted, and with a barely perceptible nod said, “You may.”

Coldiron looked as uncomfortable as a mare in a bed of fleas, fidgeting slightly as she said, “These ursans have shown a lot of uncharacteristic restraint by not just hitting us now, while they’re massed. We can’t necessarily expect them to act like normal. Also, there’s the threat of the Lurkers. While we found no sign of tunnels in the area, either beneath the forest or the fort, there’s still the real chance of interference from them during this battle. It would benefit us more to have more experienced troops held in reserve to respond to emergencies inside the fort, or if we lose the gate unexpectedly. The Heartlanders… have shown to me at least they have backbone. I think you can replace one of the regular companies on the wall with the Heartlander company and they’ll hold their own. Meanwhile we’ll have a stronger reserve force to respond to whatever surprises may hit us.”

There were a few nods from the other Sergeants, and one of them, a tall red stallion in charge of 5th company, Sergeant Bloodedge, said, “I’d be more comfortable parked in reserve with one of the other companies at our side anyway. If we’re going to push back an ursan breach of the gate, west or otherwise, I don’t know if I’d trust the Heartlanders yet to hold until the 5th got there. They might be better off fighting on the wall where they got fortifications to work with, instead of trying to take an ursan charge through the gate head on.”

Though Counter Charge had wished he phrased it in a way that gave the Heartlanders more credit, she at least appreciated the backup, as she supported Coldiron’s idea fully. While it might have seemed harsher to put the Heartlanders on the wall to fight, it was true that it’d be overall better for them. The fortifications on the palisade along with the ability to fire at range would give the Heartlanders time to acclimate to the fight without being overwhelmed. Ursans could get more and more viscous as they gained momentum in a fight and if the bears broke through the west gate that’d mean the Heartlanders would face the fiercest charge the ursans could throw at them with no wall to fight from. While Counter Charge had faith in the Heartlanders, they’d get slaughtered in that kind of situation.

Runeward seemed to finally come to the same conclusion because he nodded and made the adjustments to the board, putting the Heartlanders on the wall… in place of her own 4th company, “Very well, the Heartlanders will be stationed on the northwest wall and 4th company will take their place by the west gate to hold against a breach or as a second reserve company. Any objections?”

Counter Charge had none. In fact she would have suggested it herself if Runeward hadn’t done it. Her name wasn’t for show. She was accustomed to taking an enemy’s attack then counter charging to push them back. Being there at the west gate was the best place for her to help the overall battle.

When nopony else objected Runeward continued, “Well, at this point there’s little we can decide as we’ll have to adjust plans on the fly depending on enemy actions. As you can see we have secondary fortifications dug around the central keep, and this ring here… this is being prepared by a few ponies right now. We’re taking as much lamp oil as we can and making a ring we can ignite to cover a retreat to the secondary fortifications f we lose the walls. When that happens we’ll fall back by ranks and hold the second line for as long as we can. If the secondary line is strained too far, our final move is to fall back into the keep. There… we make our last stand, if need be. Make them pay for every pace with an ursan corpse. Any questions.”

There were a few, mostly about details of ammo conservation, target priority, ect., but Counter Charge didn’t have anything further to say. Her own mind was thinking ahead to the battle and if despite all their planning and preparation just how much of a chance they really stood of coming out alive, let alone victorious.

Night had fallen and the sky was clear. Coco Pommel found herself unable to get any sleep, and slipped from her bedroll and tent. The recruits were doubled up in their tents, and Coco had been sharing hers with a young mare who was also from Manehattan like herself, a periwinkle colored pegasus who was easily two or three years younger than Coco named Windfinder. As Coco slipped out of her tent she could hear Windfinder still quietly crying into her bedroll’s pillow. She was one of the ponies who had yet to adjust to Legion life to any degree, though she’d seemed to Coco to be in slightly better spirits after Trixie’s stories earlier. The showmare had gone on for most the evening, telling other tales of her travels across Equestria, each more ridiculous and over the top than the last, and it’d certainly seemed to ease the overall tension.

“You should get to sleep,” Coco said at the tent’s threshold, “You’ll need the rest.”

“I’m scared…” said Windfinder’s small, shaking voce.

Coco frowned, looking down, “I am too. I think everypony is.”

“You don’t sound scared. And you… you’ve already proven you can fight. I… I can’t.”

Coco didn’t know what to say to that other than, “Just do whatever you can. We’ll all be fighting together.”

“I saw,” Windfinder said, raising her small head from her pillow to look at Coco with terrified green eyes, “I saw them eat ponies. I don’t want to die that way. I don’t want to die at all!”

“Then fight as hard as you can. I will too,” Coco said, feeling at a loss, and wishing she had some way to give the young pegasus some kind of confidence or at least help her push down some of her fear. Instead Windfinder just looked away and buried her face in her pillow again, leaving Coco to dejectedly trot away with the sound of the pegasus’ sobs still ringing in her ear.

I suppose some of us aren’t really meant to be here, Coco thought, then frowned at her own thinking, As if any of us are meant to be here. There’s nothing more unnatural than for ponies to fight. I don’t want to accept it. I don’t want to allow it! I won’t let them die! I’ll… I’ll…

The anger rose and she tried to quash it down, but it smoldered like the undying embers of a dormant volcano. She knew the rage was just waiting for its chance. The Lurkers had been bad, and she’d unleashed it on them… but the true source of her rage were the ursans and the images of the dying ponies on the road from days before, who’d died screaming under ursan jaws and claws, those memories fueled the anger that felt like it’d burn away her heart if she let it.

It felt so wrong, but at the same time perfectly right. She hated the idea of fighting. She didn’t like the violence that seemed to come so naturally to her in this unnatural seeming war. Yet she couldn’t deny that she wanted to stop the ursans, the Lurkers, all of the horrible monsters that threatened her race.

She reached the palisade, nodding to one of the guards on duty, who gave her a surprisingly respectful nod in turn. The Legion ponies had been treating her with more regard since her return with the others from Arrow Vale. Was it because they’d proven themselves in battle? Was that what it took to earn the respect of the Legion? Probably, but Coco couldn’t feel a lot of pride about that. All it meant was that she was becoming a better killer, right?

Ignoring her own advice to Windfinder she stood on the palisade and stared up at the sky, completely unable to think of sleep. It was a beautiful night, filled with stars. The moon was nothing more than the thinnest sliver of pure white in the sky. Tomorrow night it’d be gone completely, the night of the new moon.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

Coco turned her head at the familiar voice, seeing Coldiron joining her on the palisade. Coco smiled, though it was a small, tired expression.

“It’s the best spot to think,” she said as the short gray unicorn joined her, Coldiron leaning on the wall and closing her eyes as a brief wind tussled her brown mane.

“I can’t disagree. I usually come up here when I need to let my mind clear.”

For a number of minutes the two mares just shared each other’s company in agreeable silence. Then Coco glanced over and noticed something she hadn’t before. It was a small copper ring, strung around a simple, small cord of twine. It was tucked into the breast of Coldiron’s battlemage coat, but it’d slipped out as the mare had leaned over the wall.

“What’s that?” Coco asked.

Coldiron looked confused for a moment before following Coco’s gaze to the ring. Very quickly Coldiron’s cheeks warmed with a red hue and she tucked the ring away hastily.

“It’s…” Coldiron hesitated, seemed to Coco to withdraw into herself, then she saw the unicorn nod as if coming to a decision, “I guess I shouldn’t worry about it. It’s not as if it’s a secret. I just don’t really talk about personal things often, but you’ve earned some trust I think. The ring is my wedding band. My husband gave it to me the day we married.”

“Oh! Well, it’s a nice ring. Is your husband here at the fortress? Or… was he at Arrow Vale?” Coco felt utterly awkward asking about it, but curiosity was a powerful thing.

Coldiron’s eyes shimmered as she stared off into the night, “He’s not with us anymore. He was lost just over a year ago during an operation to the south. He was a combat engineer, the kind of pony who built the traps we use against the ursans when he wasn’t working on bridges or fortifications.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” Coco said, hanging her head.

“No, its fine,” Coldiron said, turning to give Coco a wan smile that seemed to carry a wistfulness Coco wouldn’t have imagined seeing on the Legion mare, “Wrightsmith was a good stallion. Insufferable, at times, but good. Never regretted marrying him. I just wish I could have been there at the battle that took him. I don’t think I could have saved him. His unit was taken by surprise while trying to trap a bridge. But a part of me will always think I should have been next to him, when it happened.”

Coldiron’s voice had gradually gotten more and more pained as she’d talked, and at the end of it Coco couldn’t help herself, she’d come over and wrapped the other mare up in a firm hug.

“W-what are you doing?” Coldiron sputtered, blinking.

“Hugging you. This is what we Heartlanders do when our friends are in pain,” Coco said, giving Coldiron one final squeeze before letting go, at which point she did manage an embarrassed and apologetic look, “Should I not have done that?”

“It’s… I guess that’s just something we Legionnaires are going to have to get used to, if we’re serious about bringing the Heartland into the fold,” Coldiron said, glancing away with an equally flummoxed expression, then glanced back, “Thank you, though.”

Coco smiled. “No problem.”

Author's Note

A fairly simple transitional chapter before things get heavy on the action again. Just some time for characters to wind down before I throw them back into the fire once more. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 10: Eve of Battle

Chapter 10: Eve of Battle

Chapter 10: Eve of Battle

The air moved across her carapace and despite having felt this several dozen times already Leyshi still shuddered in joy from the cool feeling from the breeze. Many of her kind complained about the cold but Leyshi enjoyed the sensation. She enjoyed practically everything about the surface! It was such a wonderful, magical place, filled with fascinating things! Excitement bubbled in every inch of her body, her long spindly legs practically bouncing.

She caught a sharp whiff of disapproval from the all too familiar pheromones coming off of Thriza, and the huge hunter didn’t even have to speak to make it clear he was annoyed with her. Leyshi buzzed with embarrassment as she realized she’d been letting out quite a bit of pheromones herself, announcing to practically every hunter caste in Thirza’s three eights that she was excited. None of the hunters dared to chitter their laughter at her. Small or not she was still of the brood caste and even if she was told by the broodmother to follow Thirza’s orders the other hunters still ranked below her. Not that she could really imagine herself punishing any of the hunters if one broke etiquette with an ill timed laugh. She'd never been very good as disciplining others. Chirziane had told her often it was a weakness Leyshi would need to overcome if she ever hoped to pass her trials and earn the right to become a broodmother herself.

“Thirzy,” she said, keeping her voice down despite the fact that they hadn’t seen any ponies walking around for many hours, “can I please take a closer look at the pony fort?”

“No.” he said simply, his large form not even moving, his large, powerful body standing stock still as he gazed both at her and, she imagined, at the distant fortress of the ponies. It was impossible to tell if the numerous pheromones of displeasure were just because of her or because of the fort. She smelled some salty, pungent apprehension in him that wasn't normal. Thirza was as anxious as she was. Probably for different reasons. She kind of envied his ability to keep his body still despite it all.

They were huddled deep inside the forest of strange wooden stalagmites that she knew the ponies called ‘trees’. Above the trees Leyshi could see the vast and dark cavern ceiling called the ‘sky’ with its endless glittering expanse of stars. The tiny pinpricks of light entranced Leyshi and she’d spent at least an hour earlier during the night just gazing at those stars, wondering what they really were. She knew what they were called because she’d spoken at length with the pony captives broodmother Chirziane kept, but she couldn’t fathom what they were. Gems, maybe? They looked a bit like the gems that at times encrusted the cavern ceilings of her homeland. If she held up one of her clawed forelegs she imagined she could almost reach out and pluck one of those 'stars' from the sky and draw it to her to examine up close.

She, Thirza, and his hunters had remained hidden from the ponies during the entire night, staying deep enough in the forest to remain out of sight. With dawn approaching they’d crept close enough that the pony’s fortress was visible. They were hidden among the trees to the east, and Leyshi knew that further west was a big river and that beyond that were the other creatures that lived out here, the ursans. The battle that broodmother Chirziane had arranged would happen soon, the very next night, and Leyshi didn’t know quite how to feel about that.

She trusted the broodmother completely, but it seemed like such a waste. The ponies were far more fascinating than the ursans, and Leyshi sort of hoped the ponies would win, even if that seemed quite impossible. Yet some part of her still thought it could happen. From the talk among the hunters she knew they held little more than dismissive contempt for the surface races, but Leyshi knew better. She’d learned from her talk with the broodmother’s test subjects, and the one time one of them had broken free, that ponies were dangerous. Beautiful, fascinating, and terribly dangerous.

“We must go soon,” said Thirza, exuding a sharp scent of urgency as he stepped up next to her. His looming presence was hard to ignore and Leyshi turned slightly to face him, raising one of her front legs in a pointing gesture off to the east.

“I want to watch the light when it comes. Can I climb one of the stalagmites to watch? I promise I’ll stay hidden!”

A deep hiss of displeasure escaped Thirza, only dissipating when Leyshi patted one of his legs with her own and let out a sweet pheromone unique to the brood caste that had a near instant calming effect on any male. Thirza stared at her for a few seconds, then said, “Very well, but take no longer than needed to watch that cured ball of light rise, then join the rest of us.”

He retreated deeper into the forest, where patches of gloomy shadow detached from bushes and trees, his hunters joining their leader’s silent strides back into the deeper darkness of the forest. Leyshi watched them go for a second before nearly hopping with joy as she approached one of the wood stalagmite trees and started to climb. Her long spindly legs pulled her up through the numerous branches, and she paused briefly to peer curiously at a passing creature on one of the branches. It was a tiny thing with a bushy tail, brown fur, and oversized front teeth.

“What are you, I wonder, little creature?” Leyshi asked, reaching out with one leg towards the critter, but it perked up immediately at her movement and leapt to a branch on another nearby tree. Leyshi was impressed by its leaping ability. So much like the Aranea of the trade caste with their powerful jumping legs. Leyshi let out a small hiss of disappointment, considering trying to catch the creature, but the world was already starting to brighten, telling her it was soon time for that incredible ball of light to appear in the sky.

She wasn’t going to miss it.

Deftly she climbed, until she was near the very top of the tree, perched with her legs stretched out between several branches and her back to the main trunk, using it as partial cover. She was sure she couldn’t be seen by any ponies at their fort, not unless one of the flying ones went right over her, and even then she felt her dark chitin blended well with the... leaves? Yes, leaves was the right word. She blended well with the leaves of the tree. She felt safe as she sat and watched the distant horizon.

Not even in the largest cavern of the Aranea capital, Sirith Zuroth, was such a vast and distant vista available. Leyshi’s heart beat faster deep inside her as the impossible large horizon lightened more and more, turning from midnight black to growing hues of purple, pink, and lightest blue. Hues she’d only seen on a few rare gems in her homeland, yet the creatures of the surface got to see each morning.

Leyshi was rather jealous, but if broodmother Chirziane’s plan worked they’d have a colony here on the surface and Leyshi would get to do this as much as she wanted!

The light hurt, as the sky became brighter. Her eyes ached from the intensity, before the ball of fire even appeared at the edges of the horizon. But Leyshi didn’t want to look away. The colors spread across the sky and the horizon began to turn a brilliant stream of gold, stirring feelings inside her of awe and excitement unlike anything she’d known back home. When finally that bright orb, the ‘sun’, broke the horizon and began its slow ascent into the sky Leyshi had to look away. It was beautiful, but so painful. Aranea eyes were too sensitive for such bright lights, but pain or not Leyshi still felt it worth it to even catch a glimpse of such inspiring beauty.

And the warmth! The sun rays hit her carapace and left her feeling a warm glow like being in a pleasant cavern hot spring, yet this sunlight seemed to carry a vitalizing energy to it that left Leyshi feeling content and calm. It was almost akin to being embraced by a loving stream of affection pheromones. Leyshi hadn't felt this way since her last taste of such pheromones from the broodmother that had lain the eggsack Leyshi had spawned from. It felt like a very long time ago.

With a highly reluctant hiss she turned to start her climb back down, knowing Thirza would be angry with her if she took too much longer.

When the net descended over her it took Leyshi by complete surprise. Thick ropes wrapped up her many legs, and sharp, horrible pain exploded through her senses as one of those legs was twisted and nearly snapped as a massive amount of force tore her straight off the tree. She let out a horrified and pained shriek, pheromones of terror flowing from her. The world was tumbling and she could barely oriented herself, and only the feeling of the air tearing past her made her realize she was in the air at all... but not falling?

“Keep it tight!” she heard a voice say, a pony voice, speaking their tongue, which she understood a fair bit of, “Don’t you dare drop it!”

“I know, I know! Damn thing is struggling!”

Leyshi realized she had been struggling, flailing madly without even realizing it. While her terror was near overwhelming she forced herself to still, to try and take stock of her situation.

She was thoroughly wrapped up in a net, one of her legs broken, the rest uselessly tied up in the rope of the net. She was suspended between two of the flying ponies. They had their forehooves gripped around the net that Leyshi suspected they’d flown at high speed to catch her with, snatching her right off the tree. They had spears tucked across their backs, but any thought of fighting back left Leyshi’s mind as she saw there were four more of the flying, winged ponies who were pacing their comrades with the net, each carrying a spear and looking at her as if they wouldn't hesitate to kill her if she tried fighting back.

To Leyshi’s further dismay she realized they were taking her further away from the forest and heading straight for the pony fortress.

Apparently she was going to get a closer look at the ponies and their fort regardless of what Thirza had said.

Leyshi was starting to wish she’d stayed back home.

“They caught one?” Coldiron asked, dumbfounded but quickly growing intense as she clambered out of her bunk. She’d been sleeping light anyway, still wearing her battlemage leather coat and with her dagger sitting by her bunk.

“Surprised the heck out of me, too.” said Counter Charge, “The patrol didn’t wait for instructions, they just snatched the thing when they spotted it up in one of the trees. They just landed, and the Captain wants you there right away.”

Coldiron belted on her dagger and didn’t question further as Counter Charge led her out of the barracks into the cold morning air. It was a stark blue sky above with barely any clouds and it felt like it was going to be a chiller of a day. That touched off a few nerves inside. Most ponies who spent long enough in the Western Barrier Lands got a feel for the weather, and the cold snap this morning felt like it might lead to snow tonight.

The center courtyard was filled with a crowd of ponies, many of them being berated by their superiors to get back to their tasks, but it was hard to disperse the crowd from watching the spectacle at the center. A squad of pegasi were dragging a still, black form wrapped up in a net towards the center keep. Coldiron didn’t have to look twice to realize the creature in the net was a Lurker. At first she thought it was one of the web spinning variety, but as she and Counter Charge got closer she noticed differences. This Lurker was a bit larger, but with a thinner, more elongated body. It’s legs were longer as well. Coldiron noted the dark carapace of the Lurker had a few stripes and patches of a lighter, blue color, still dark but different enough to stand out against the rest of the Lurker’s body.

The Lurker was emitting an uneven series of faint hisses, the only real sign it was alive at all because it was staying stock still as the pegasi dragged it along.

“Hey, Coldiron! Hey!” came the familiar voice of Blossomforth as the pegasus flew over the crowd and landing nearby, “What’s going on? Whoa! Is that what I think it is!?”

Counter Charge rolled her eyes, gesturing for Coldiron to go inside the keep, “Go along, I’ll run interference with the crowd.”

The earth pony mare turned towards Blossomforth and many of the other ponies that were still trying to gather around to stare at the capture, and bellowed out, “Alright troops enough gawking! Get your flanks back to your posts and assigned tasks pronto or we’ll be dusting off the lash post! Move it!”

Her sharp, commanding voice got the Legionnaires moving along, with Blossomforth frowning but heading off after Coldiron gave the pegasus a firm shake of her head. Before long she was inside the main entrance chamber of the keep with Captain Runeward trotting to meet her and the pegasi pulling along the prisoner.

Runeward halted to gaze down at the still, seemingly frozen, Lurker. His eyes glittered with a hard light that reflected the torches lighting the hall, “Take it down below.”

In short order Coldiron found herself standing along the Captain in the cell area in the basement of the keep. The pegasi had tossed the Lurker into a small stone cell, thick iron bars cutting off the room from the hallway where nine other cells were situated side by side. Runeward glanced at the pegasi, “I want no less than a full squad of guards on this creature at all times, including at least one mage. Also somepony send for Quick Needle. I want him down here for this.”

Salutes were given and four of the pegasi remained behind as the remaining two left to fetch Quick Needle. Runeward turned to Coldiron, gesturing with a hoof at the Lurker, “Any idea why it isn’t moving?”

Coldiron was about to reply when a voice spoke. It was high pitched and squeaky, almost like that of a filly with a sore throat.

“I’m not moving because I don’t want you to hurt me.”

Coldiron’s shock was about on par with what could be expected if the Lurker had suddenly turned pink, put on a top hat, and begun to tap dance in its cell. From the slack jawed look on Captain Runeward’s face, an expression could not recall ever seeing on the old stallion’s face, he was just as taken aback as she was. To his credit he recovered quickly, faster than Coldiron did.

“You speak our language?” he asked, tone as cold as the stone of the prison cells.

The Lurker didn’t immediately answer, its mandibles twitching, one of its legs rubbing at another leg that Coldiron noted was twisted, the chitin cracked on it. After a few more moments it spoke again, in that same sore throated fillyish voice, “I can talk. Yes. Please don’t hurt me.”

Runeward sucked in a breath, turning his gaze towards Coldiron, “This makes things easier. Get everything you can out of this… thing. I’m placing you in charge of its interrogation. If we’re attacked tonight, I want to know anything you can get out of it about its plans, whatever it might know.”

Coldiron was still shaken at the mere notion the Lurker was talking, not to mention seemed, well, terrified, but she saluted, “Yes sir. Am I free to use any means I deem needed to extract information?”

“Yes, of course. I’d called you in here hoping you’re firsthoof experience with these things would prove useful in interpetng it’s actions, but since it can talk I trust you can do a lot more than that. Have Quick Needle help you when he gets here. He should know enough of their anatomy by now that you can hurt it without killing it.”

“Please!” said the Lurker again, its voice even higher pitched than before, “I talk! I can talk a lot, but no hurting! I want to know about ponies, too.”

Runeward turned his hard eyes towards the Lurker, which by now had slowly extricated itself from the net and was now standing in the center of the cell, almost completely still except for its twitching mandibles, its eight glittering eyes staring at them. Runeward’s lips turned into a small snarl as he turned to leave, only saying, “Whatever it takes, Sergeant.”

Coldiron was left awkwardly watching the Lurker, the four pegasus guards standing about like grim statues. Her mind was buzzing with possibilities, trying to decide how to even begin interrogating this creature. It was strange, looking at it. The monsters she fought in the tunnels beneath Arrow Vale had filled her with a heady combination of fear and revulsion, and those feelings were still present just looking at this Lurker… but its attitude put Coldiron off balance. She quashed the feeling, decided that, ultimately, she’d treat this just like if she had the task of interrogating a normal criminal or enemy. What was taking Quick Needle so long?

“How do you know our language?” she asked first, deciding to test just how chatty this Lurker really was.

“I talk with ponies,” it said, “I am Leyshi! What’s your name?”

Coldiron frowned, “You don’t need to know that. What ponies did you talk to?”

The Lurker, Leyshi, took longer to answer this time, “Ponies my mistress owns. We test, learn, figure ponies out. Learn to talk as ponies talk. Hard to do. Mouth not made for pony sounds but trained myself to talk because I hoped to talk to more ponies. I want to learn more. Are you a female or male pony?”

A blast of frost iced over the ground near Leyshi’s front legs, causing the Lurker to skitter back. Coldiron’s horn, glowing frosty blue, didn’t dim and her eyes stayed hard, “I’m the one who asks questions. You’re the one who gives answers. If you don’t give good answers, or enough answers, I’ll start with freezing over your legs. We are not friends. Your race has hurt mine. The only thing you’re going to learn about ponies is how big a mistake you’ve made in doing so.”

The day could not end soon enough. Ulragnok stalked about the lines of his warriors, his braves, as they prepared for the glory that would come with the setting of the sun. Claws were sharpened upon the trunks of trees or the stones of the river. He feared not his warriors being seen by the ponies. Let them see their deaths, let them know that battle was upon them and that there would be neither escape nor victory against the might of the ursan clans!

Little could abate his agitation and eagerness for nightfall. It made it hard to stay still. He walked among his people and at least found some satisfaction and escape from his nerves by seeing the eager light in the eyes of almost every young ursan he passed. Each roar or greeting, every bellow of “Ulragnok!” and “To glory!” left him reminded of the correctness of his path.

This was what the ursans clans should be doing. Even if less than half of the clans had come to his call he still felt both pride and confidence in the alliance of clans he’d created and knew that as long as he succeeded here it was only a matter of time before the other clans came into line. Even the elders of the more venerable clans would have to accept the legitimacy of Ulragnok as a Warchief and of this fresh offensive against the ponies. No more skirmishes. No more ambushes. No more wasting away his youth until he was an old, toothless elder with no battle glories to claim when he inevitably died and went to Ursenheim.

That had been his greatest fear since he was little more than a cub. Dying having done nothing of note or worth to speak of in the halls of death, where the ursan warriors of old could sing songs of their great past battles and earned glories, but Ulragnok and so many modern braves would be left with nothing to sing of but the fact that they perhaps fought ponies once or twice in minor skirmishes of no importance.

That would not be his fate or the fate of his people! Even if they died on pony spears at least it would be a battle that would be remembered, worthy of song!

But Ulragnok did not intend to die, nor did he think his army could be defeated. Not by the puny fort across the river. It would be smashed to pieces by his braves and once they’d gorged themselves on that victory he would lead them further to more battles, more glory, and carve his name into the memory of the ponies and ursans alike for generations to come!

“If you pace any harder you shall dig yourself a tunnel to the Dark Mother’s realm,” said a female ursan who was lounging by a clearing edge.

Her amused tone caused Ulragnok to pause, turning towards her. The female ursan was younger than he, but of the same size, with a slightly more svelte form that was no less muscled for it. Her dark brown fur was unarmored, and she wore a set of long, colorful roc feathers tied to her head. That alone spoke of her strength, for none could wear an article from a creature they had not slain themselves, and Ulragnok knew well the roc’s of the high mountains were no easy foes. The respect he felt for that alone kept him from snapping at her for her seemingly mocking tone. Curious, he didn’t recognize any clan markings on her.

“Who are you, to take such a tone with your Warchief?” he growled, challengingly.

The female’s grin showed flashes of her white fangs, and when she stood from her lounging position it was with a roll of unmistakable power and grace, her eyes glittering with amusement. She affected something akin to a bow of her head.

“Regarna, Warchief,” she said, “A simple warrior, who’s come to join this most promising gathering. Now, tell me, why does the mighty Ulragnok pace so?”

The name sparked no recognition in his mind. Was she outcast? Or from a clan so minor it bore no markings of honor, yet? He snorted.

“It is the eve of battle,” he said simply, “I am merely filled with the lust to put my claws to the work of shedding the blood of our enemies.”

Regarna rolled her shoulders and let out a rumbling laugh that reminded Ulragnok of the noise of a distant avalanche, “As are we all, Warchief. I didn’t follow you to this place because I was any more content than you to let myself grow old and infirm without a battle as the legends speak of. Still, try not to stalk around like a mad mountain cat. You’ll make the other braves nervous.”

Ulragnok growled, looking away, “I’m not nervous. Warchief’s don’t get nervous.”

“So stop acting as if you are,” Regarna shot back, a cocky gleam entering her eyes.

Anger flared inside his chest and Ulragnok wheeled on the impertinent female, already taking a ready stance for battle, “Do not presume to tell me what to do.”

“Will you stop me, mighty, nervous Warchief?”

His only response was a earth shaking roar as he charged at her. His first swipe went over her head as Regarna ducked down with swiftness her bulky ursan body belied. She drove forward, rather than retreat from his fury, and soon Ulragnok felt the air blasting from his lungs as she drove her shoulder into his chest. Her arms wrapped firmly around his mid-section as she forced him back, both their claws digging through the dirt.

Ulragnok recovered just enough to work his own arm underneath the pit of hers and with a mighty heave sent the upstart flying in a hard throw. He was already breathing hard, his blood pumping, and to his surprise he felt a strange jolt of pleasure as he saw that Regarna bounced back from the throw quickly, rolling to her paws and came right back at him. Other warriors had gathered around the scuffle, curious to watch their Warcheif’s fight with one of his braves.

Regarna’s claws flashed at him as she reared up on her hind legs. The powerful blow landed, rocking his skull from the might behind it. Shaking off the daze he reared up as well, lashing out and catching her across the shoulder, knocking her off balance. He followed up by landing on all fours and charging forward to try and bowl her over, but Regarna regained her balance and met him head on. The met in a titanic clap of hard bodies and for half a minute both ursans pushed and slashed at each other at close range, biting and wrestling to try and gain advantage.

Finally Ulragnok managed to get a good grip on the scruff of her neck and with a hard wrench managed to flip Regarna onto her back. He straddled her, claws poised above her neck. His blood was blazing hot in his veins, but rather than lust for the kill, rather than anger at her impertinence for challenging him, Ulragnok felt another kind of lust rising inside him. A lust that, to his surprise, was compounded by the eager gleam in her eyes as she stared up at him with a toothy grin.

“Feeling better, Warchief?” she asked.

Ulragnok snorted, “Better. Shall I show you how much better?”

It was her turn to snort, pushing him off her with a playful shove, “And tire you out for the battle to come? Let us both survive this battle so we may sing of our glories together, after that I may test your endurance in ways besides a simple sparring match.”

It only took the first hour on guard duty for Trixie to decide that it was the absolute worst task in the Legion besides actually having to fight. At least with the dirtier chores like digging latrine pits she was actually doing something. It didn’t help that she was stuck starring off into the forest where she could clearly see the ursans, who at this point where making no effort at all to hide their presence. She even saw a number of the lumbering beasts go to the riverbank and dunk in, either washing themselves or apparently snatching some of the fish inside the shallows.

The ursans looked to her like they didn’t have a care in the world and that got under Trixie’s hide! As if they’d just run roughshod over this fort with no effort! Unfortunately Trixie couldn’t muster many thoughts to counter that prospect. There were an awful lot of ursans out there. It was getting harder and harder for Trixie to push down a rising sense of panic and a need to run. She’d more than once glanced back towards the east gate, wondering how far she might get if she just snuck out that way and made a run for it.

She kept pushing that thought away. Not only did it not seem likely she’d get all that far she couldn’t bring herself to consider leaving behind the few friends she’d managed to make out here. That, and there was her pride to consider. But was pride worth her life? Were her friends? Well, one of those, at least, was an easy enough answer. The fear remained, however, locked behind a door in her mind, that come the pinch she'd end up breaking and running...

Just like Ponyville.

Though dying alongside my friends isn’t exactly the magnificent ending I’d hoped for the Great and Powerful Trixie, she thought glumly, wondering what she could do to maximize her and her friends chances of surviving the night. Ultimately the only conclusion she could come to was that, if things truly did go bad here, that she’d drag Blossomforth away under the cloak of an invisibility spell and take her chances in running. If she could she’d bring Coco, Allie Way, as many of the other ponies as she could… maybe even that stubborn mare Coldiron, though Trixie knew the Legion unicorn would never abandon the fort. She might even try to stop Trixie and the others from running if things turned for the worst.

But any chance to live beat a useless death in a hopeless battle, right?

“Yikes, you okay Trixie? Looking a tad pale faced there,” said Blossomforth as she fluttered up to the ramparts where Trixie was standing guard. Trixie was startled by the pegasus’ sudden arrival but managed to confident stance, puffing her chest out.

“Trixie doesn’t know what you mean. She is steadfastly watching the giant bear things with a keen and ready eye! Nothing shall get past Trixie the Ever Vigilant!”

“If you say so.” said Blossomforth, a catty smile on her face as she peered over the ramparts, “Yeesh, there are a bunch of them out there. I don’t think they could get at us without making the ground bounce like an earthquake. Kind of makes having sentries seem redundant, but if we got more Lurkers out there it makes more sense. You hear about the one they caught?”

Trixie, glad for the change in subject, let out a sigh, “Kind of difficult not to given the commotion it caused when they brought it in. Have you heard anything more?”

Blossomforth’s wings fluttered as she turned to lean against the ramparts, shrugging, “Nah, nopony sides Coldiron and the doc have gone into the keep since they took the poor thing in there.”

“Poor thing?” Trixie asked with an incredulous tone, “You can’t seriously feel any sympathy for those monstrous creatures, can you?”

Blossomforth looked up at the sky, tapping a hoof to her chin, eyes lost in thought, “Dunno. I mean, yeah, can’t forget what they did to the ponies in that town. But way I figure it any species has to have its good hearted types and bad hearted types, right? I mean, not like we ponies are all peace, love, and rainbows.”

She gestured at the Legion fort around them and the many Legionnaires within, as if to emphasis her point, “So maybe that Lurker’s crazy evil or something, but then again maybe it ain’t. Either way, I just kind of felt bad watching it get dragged inside the keep, because to my eyes it looked pretty damned scared. I know I don’t like being scared, so it probably doesn’t either. That’s all I was saying.”

Trixie just shook her head, wondering at the odd nature of the pegasus next to her. Blossomforth seemed to Trixie like a compressed cosmos of optimism and empathy that left Trixie wondering how the other mare managed it. Then again perhaps, Trixie thought, that she hadn’t paid enough attention to the ponies she’d met in her life up until now. Equestria was filled with those like Blossomforth. Trixie, she sadly had to admit, was the odd one out with her focus on herself and her own ambitions. Empathizing with others hadn’t been a top priority.

“Trixie thinks that perhaps that is a good way to think, but you shouldn’t expect too much either. The Lurkers kill ponies. The ursans kill ponies. It seems pretty much everything else in the world besides ponies kill ponies and Trixie is starting to think she wouldn’t be surprised if even ponies kill ponies.”

“Geez, you’re pretty down aren’t you, Trix?” asked Blossomforth, “How much longer you got on guard duty? When you’re done you should come down for lunch or something. I think I need to get your mind off things.”

“That may prove difficult, given its rather hard to forget how soon we’ll be fighting for our lives.” said Trixie, who hesitated just a moment before adding, quietly, “If things get bad, if it’s obvious we won’t be able to win… Trixie knows magic to make us invisible.”

Blossomforth went very quiet then. Trixie began to feel rather nervous as she watched Blossomforth standing still, staring off at nothing. Finally when Blossomforth did speak it was without the usual cheerful humor, instead becoming lowered and serious.

“Don’t think like that, Trixie. Please don’t think like that. It’s like a bad seed that gets stuck in your head if you let it. So promise me you’ll forget any thought like that and focus on one thing; we’re going to make it through this. Together. Okay?”

Trixie pressed her lips firmly as an irrational irritation rose inside her. Making it through this insanity together was exactly why she was thinking of the possibility of fleeing if the time came! It wasn’t as if Trixie was saying she wouldn’t fight, or try her hardest, but… but… if the fight turned sour, if winning became clearly impossible what was the point of throwing one’s life away!?

She wanted to shout these things at Blossomforth, but there were too many Legion ponies close by also on guard duty and she couldn’t risk raising her voice, or really even talking about this too openly. Instead Trixie just let out a hard sigh and said, “Trixie will try to…”

Blossomforth gave her a quick hug, “Good. Guess I’ll get back to the supply room. Bluffed a potty break to get some fresh air. Getting tired of stacking crossbow bolts. This place has a store of them so large you’d think they were planning to pincushion every ursan in the entire mountain range.”

The pegasus mare was back to smiling happily as she fly off, giving Trixie a final wave, which Trixie gladly returned before resuming her watch of the ursans. Despite Blossomforth’s words it was very hard to keep her thoughts away from dark places as the day wore on.

Leyshi could use her legs to count the number of times in her life she’d been in any real physical pain. There’d off course been a few incidents as a young spawnling, still fresh from the egg, learning about the world around her and the limits of her body. She’d damaged a leg back then, too, trying to learn how to climb walls for the first time and learning the hard way that slick moss makes for bad purchase on a young Aranea’s leg hooks. Now all of her leg’s hurt. The pony with the horn had not been lying about starting with Leyshi’s legs.

The ice was numbing at first, but the pony seemed rather smart, or maybe it was the other one, Quick Needle, who knew enough about her body to cause pain without permanent damage. At least Leyshi was fairly sure there wouldn’t be any permanent damage. Assuming she lived long enough to heal. Which seemed rather doubtful at the present moment. The ice would harden, biting, taking away sensation, then as it melted from her chitin the surface would crack and splinter in patterns not unlike a spinner castes’ web, exposing raw nerves to the open air. The sting was agony, a concentrated rush of pain that tore through her senses. Leyshi didn’t know how to make the ponies stop hurting her. She answered their questions! At least she answered as many as she could.

Leyshi wasn’t stupid. She knew she couldn’t tell them about Thirza and his hunters. She couldn’t tell them about broodmother Chirziane and her plans for the surface. Leyshi was terrified, the pain terrible, but bred into her very blood was a loyalty to race and brood that even that fear could not overturn. She’d die before divulging information that would hurt her people. But she tried her best to still give the ponies answers they would like. She told them about the castes, the purpose of each. Hunters fought for the brood, spinners built for the brood, traders negotiated and traveled for the brood, and the brood caste itself created the brood. She tried to explain what a brood was, the complex social unit it represented, but the ponies didn’t want to learn. They weren’t interested in what Aranea were, only what they were planning and how to kill them. So very narrow minded. She hoped not all ponies were so singular in their thinking.

They hadn’t killed her yet, which Leyshi didn’t know what to think of. Did they think if they kept causing her pain she’d eventually tell them more? She hoped not. That would just lead to more pain, fruitless for all parties involved. Perhaps they were planning to eat her, they way Aranea ate ponies? That seemed the most sensible choice to Leyshi. It’d be bad to put to waste a good body, and if ponies could eat Aranea then it made sense they’d keep her for when they got hungry. After all it would only be polite. The thought that the ponies might kill her without eating her seemed so… so rude! You don’t just toss bodies out to waste! Think of the young! She was sure pony young got as hungry as often as Aranea young. Probably. Regardless, Leyshi was mortified by the idea of dying for no reason. Not that she wanted to die at all but at least for the all important and noble goal of food she could accept that as a partial consolation.

But she very much wanted to live and learn about poines, even if they weren’t very talkative.

“Why won’t you answer my questions?” she asked, during one of the pauses when the ice creating pony Coldiron would confer with the Quick Needle.

The one called Coldiron, which Leyshi had learned when Quick Needle had let it slip, looked ready to encase one of Leyshi’s legs in ice again but Quick Needle held up a hoof to stop her. He approached the bars of her cell. He, like Coldiron, was one of the horned ponies, but she hadn’t seen him use any magic, yet. The only way she was able to figure out he was male was because she’d managed a glimpse under his tail briefly during the questioning. At least she assumed what she’d seen meant he was male. With ponies she supposed anything was possible. It stood to reason, however, that if Quick Needle was male, then Coldiron might be female, because of the structural differences.

She made a mental note to add this information to her and broodmother Chirziane’s notes if she ever got back. They hadn’t spent any time learning about the pony genders during their experiments but it seemed pertinent information.

“We don’t have any reason to answer questions from you.” Quick Needle said, his tone hard for Leyshi to read. Without pheromones it was so hard to tell the mood of these ponies, “Our only goal is to learn about you and your race, so we can better defend ourselves from you. Can you provide a single logical reason we’d want to answer any of your questions?”

“Because learning is natural,” Leyshi said as if the answer should have been obvious, “it doesn’t hurt you to let me learn. You’re going to kill me anyway, yes? What harm is there, then, in letting me learn before I die? I like learning. It’s why I came here.”

“Stop wasting time Quick Needle,” said Coldiron, even Leyshi able to grasp the growling, angry tone in her voice, “I think we’ve gotten all we can out of this thing for now.”

Quick Needle made a strange rolling gesture with his shoulders that Leyshi didn’t understand as he said, “It’s remarkably resilient to pain. Perhaps we are going about this interrogation the wrong way. We may learn more just by exchanging information.”

“We are not to give it anything.” said Coldiron, “If we let any vital information slip and it somehow managed to escape the damage done would be our responsibility.”

There was a flicker in Quick Needle’s eyes as he looked back at Coldiron, and Leyshi found herself watching with fascination despite her lingering pain and dangerous predicament. Pony eyes were very interesting. They only had the two, but could move them in all sorts of ways that a Aranea couldn’t do with their eyes. She suspected that a lot of communication happened between ponies with just their eyes, like the way Coldiron’s seemed to narrow with their odd fleshy lids as Quick Needle stared at her with his own unblinking ones. It was as if an entire conversation passed between the two with just a few seconds of eye contact. Leyshi wished she had something to take notes with.

“Ugh, alright, fine, have it your way,” said Coldiron at last, leaning back against the wall, “Chat away with the damned thing. Just don’t answer any sensitive questions.”

“Of course,” said Quick Needle and he turned back to Leyshi’s cell, fixing his intense eyes upon hre. She stared into them, wondering if she could parce out any meaning from their depths, but pony eyes remained a mystery to her.

“Alright, so, let’s talk,” he said, “You have questions, and I have more than ones about your species plans for us. So you get to ask a question and I’ll answer if I can, then I’ll ask a question and you’ll answer if you can. Simple enough for you?”

Leyshi bounced on her legs, ignoring the shooting pain through her cracked legs at the movement. She was too excited now to feel, or care much, about the pain. Finally! Some civilized conversation without the threat of limb loss!

“Oh yes! Very much so! Can I ask first!?”

Quick Needle seemed taken aback by her energy, stepping back a bit from the cell before he nodded. Leyshi knew that gesture as an affirmative. She was a pony expert! Even the prospect of death or being eaten soon didn’t bother her now. Let the learning begin!

The sour look on Captain Runeward’s face could have scoured the metal off a full suit of armor, Coldiron thought, as she finished giving him her report on the interrogation of the Lurker, Leyshi. She remained at rigid attention next to Quick Needle as the two waited for Runeward to speak. He remained behind his office desk for a long minute, that sour metal stripping look not slipping the entire time until he spoke.

“So the short answer is that you didn’t learn anything of value?”

Coldiron cleared her throat, wondering if she survived the battle with the ursans if the Captian wasn’t just going to put to work in the mess hall for the rest of her career, “We couldn’t confirm if she was on the surface alone or with others, or much about the plans of her race for the surface. Sir, I put as much pain on that Lurker as I could short of killing her, but she refused to answer any sensitive questions. If we had more time, time to use other methods such as isolation, starvation, sensory deprivation, we might get more, but for today… no sir, sorry sir.”

“To speak frankly sir,” said Quick Needle, “I think we got far more than you give us credit for. While we don’t know if her people will attack us tonight or even any time soon, I was able to glean quite a bit from just talking with her for an hour.”

“Her…” Runeward spat, as if referring to the Lurker with a gender left a bad taste in his mouth. Truthfully Coldiron shared the sentiment, but after a time listening to Leyshi it’d become clear enough she was female.

“That alone is an important piece of information,” said Quick Needle firmly, “Leyshi, and others of her ‘brood caste’ are the only females of her race. All other Lurkers, all other castes, are male. Furthermore, Leyshi is a juvenile female. In order to become an adult I learned the younger members of the brood caste need to pass some kind of set of trials, then ingest some kind of substance she called a ‘Queen’s Favor’. That not only tells us possible weakness of her species, but suggests they are ruled by a monarch.”

“I want you to compile all you’ve learned in a written report. Add it to the details of your autopsy of the dead one,” said Runeward, “I suppose as little as it is it’s better than nothing and the rest of the Legion needs to know all it can of what we’re up against.”

“What do you want done with the prisoner now, sir?” asked Coldiron.

“It’s a moot point,” said Runeward, looking as if the air was gradually being let out of him as he sank in his seat, “Unless we hold the fort it won’t matter what we do with the thing. I’m loath to keep any Legionnaires off the wall but we can’t afford to leave it unguarded. Leave two troops watching its cell, then get to your ready posts. I have a bad feeling tonight may well be the night the ursans hit us. Dismissed.”

Coldiron and Quick Needle both saluted and departed the Captain’s office.

Thirza’s rage was only eclipsed by his humiliation and fear. How could that dim witted, scatter minded, surface crazy female let herself get caught!? It was entirely his own fault but he wanted sorely to place all the blame on Leyshi. Yet he knew he should not have let her out of his sight, even for a few minutes! Now she was a captive of the ponies and he was sorely limited in his options.

His hunters could easily sense the raw, hot pheromones of his anger wafting off him and they gave him a wide berth as he paced in the deeper parts of the forest. He knew that, to a hunter, they’d follow him anywhere, into any action. If he charged the walls of the pony fort they’d follow. To their deaths. Thirza thought little enough of the ponies but he knew enough to understand a direct assault on the fortress was out of the question.

Tunneling would take too long with so few hunters with him and no spinners to help with the task. The ursans would attack this night, and it was already late afternoon, that cursed ball of fire in the sky that Leyshi was so keen to see already well past its zenith. If he was to act it would have to be when the ponies were tied up battling the ursans. It was his, and Leyshi’s, only chance.

He gradually calmed as the plan became firmer in his mind. He didn’t know where Leyshi had been taken, but the pony fortress was not that large. When the ursans attacked and the ponies were embroiled in combat he and his three eights of hunters would move. They’d use the darkness of night, the new moon that would provide no cursed light to blind or reveal him and his hunters, to climb the walls and enter the fort. If they hit hard and fast enough he felt confident they could break through any resistance and then it would just be a matter of tearing through the fort room by room until they found their lost charge.

The ursans would be a problem, though. Except for their foolish so-called ‘Warchief’ none of the other hulking, furry beasts had any idea the Aranea were on the surface, let alone that they were supposedly allies. It was just as likely that Thriza and his hunters would have to fight through the ursans as well as the ponies.

He was fine with that. He had no love for anything that dwelt on the surface. With a firm inner conviction he resolved that he’d cut through anything that stood in his path, and snatch Leyshi away from the webbing of her own stupidity, even if it killed him!

When evening’s burnished, golden glory began to give way to the creeping shadow of night it was as if the forest to the west came to life. Bonfires sparked to life along the western bank of the Bear Bones as the ursans lit dozens of constructed fires.

Trixie wasn’t certain why they were lighting those fires until the unicorn beside her muttered, “They need to see where they’re going as much as we need to see what we’re aiming at.”

He was a thick boned brown stallion, named Battering Ram, Trixie thought. Or was it Catapult? She couldn’t recall. He was assigned as the lead with her ‘array’ between herself, him, and another unicorn, the Canterlot fellow she’d seen training with Allie Way. Wine Taster? Yes, that was it. Allie Way was nearby, just one array over, another trio consisting of two Equestrians and a Barrier Land’s Legion unicorn with the experience to lead. All the unicorns were from 3rd Company, who were sharing the northwest wall with the Heartlanders.

They were set up behind a solid row of earth ponies, all armed with those ludicrously large crossbow arrangements mounted on their backs. Many had those large claymore blades set by the side of the palisade, for when things got… up close. Trixie wasn’t sure where Coco Pommel was. Further down the line to the north, no doubt. She was stationed near the very southern tip of the northwest wall, right where the west gate was. Trixie, like or not (definitely not for those wondering) was going to get the front most seat to the action. She was trying not to let her insides turn to ice water at the thought.

Behind the earth ponies the unicorns were arranged in their arrays, and Trixie glanced behind her to see the lines of the pegasi, Legion and Heartlander alike, waiting on the lower deck of the palisade wall. They had their spears, ready to use, though Trixie had no idea for sure what tactics the pegasi were stuck with. She searched the ranks for a head of neon green and pink mane. There. Blossomforth was near dead center of the formation, looking far to calm. Trixie wondered what Blossomforth’s secret was.

“Okay lugheads!” called Alpine, walking up and down the line, “Show’s about to start! Earth ponies, lock and load! Unicorns, prep your spells! Our neighbors are about to come asking for some sugar, let’s not disappoint them!”

Across the field of growing darkness, the last vestiges of the sun’s light were rapidly vanishing. Trixie watched as hulking shadows, ursans, moved like a thundering wave into a vast yet ordered mass at the edge of the west bank. Other ursans went to the bonfires, and to Trixie’s surprise she saw them taking up large, flaming logs from the fire. The ursans would rear up and with strength unbelievable to the little azure unicorn from Canterlot, the bears threw the flaming logs across the river.

The flaming projectiles came nowhere near the fortress palisade, but littered the banks and slope on the east side of the river like scatterings of fireflies. The result was a very well lit river and area of ground near its east bank. Curiously, Trixie glanced at Battering Ram.

“What are they doing?”

“Lighting up their staging ground.” the blunt faced Legion stallion said, “We can’t do anything about it. No range, even for the heavy crossbows. Just watch. They’re going to cross.”

Trixie did so, fascinated as the ursans went about crossing the river. A part of her wondered, as she watched the masses of ursans splash into the dark waters of the river, why the Legion hadn’t set up a defense line at the riverbank. Couldn’t they have done quite a bit of damage to the ursans as they crossed the river and tried to get out the east bank, all slow and water logged?

She asked as much and Battering Ram snorted, “They’d just batter us with lobbers across the river if we tried that. We don’t have the numbers to expose ourselves to a shooting match without our palisade.”

“Lobbers?” Wine Taster asked, gulping, wide eyes.

“Rocks. Size of your head. Look,” Battering Ram pointed with a hoof, “See those rafts? Bags of rocks. You think they can throw those torches far, wait ‘till you see a lobber throwing those stones. Keep your head down when you can. You hear a whistle, probably too late.”

Battering Ram was smiling grimly. Trixie just watched with dull, fearful interest as she did notice there were a number or rafts the ursans were towing with them across the river. She still thought it might’ve been better to try and fight them there, but then again, there was no real cover on the downward slope towards the east bank. If they’d set up there, and the ursans did start tossing rocks across… Trixie patted the firm, sturdy logs of the palisade in front of her; happy for the cover if nothing else.

The ursans’ river crossing took less than an hour. A long, anxious hour for the ponies in Beartrap Fortress. Trixie’s mouth was dry as a pile of dirt and her stomach was tying itself in knots. The smell of so many sweating ponies around her was adding to her sense of bubbling concern. Herd instinct. She could scent the fear of her fellow ponies and it was engendering its herd mentality for flight or fight. Hopefully fight would sink in soon enough. Trixie was tired of her legs feeling like they were shaking. She was suddenly rather glad of the dark, as if some Legion pony might see her shaky knees and shout ‘coward!’ at her.

Once the bears had crossed in their multitude they gathered themselves into a staggered series of masses, like loose, organized mobs. Three lines, thick and shifting, and Trixie nearly barked a laugh as the image of a layer cake flitted through her mind. If the ursans were a cake then Trixie only hoped they could cut a large enough slice out of to make them reconsider this attack.

When the ursans began to stomp their paws in rhythm, a pounding shake that made the dirt and wood beneath Trixie’s hooves tremble like a low-key earthquake, she realized it’d take more than taking out a slice to make this cake go away. The tempo and power of the stomping grew, louder and faster, and Trixie saw a ursan walking out from the ranks, taking a place at the very front. He was gigantic, even by ursan standards, and in the shifting orange torchlight Trixie could see the shifting dark plates of metal that were work over his bulky form.

“Warchief,” Battering Ram muttered, “quite the big bastard. If we could bring his ass down…”

“They’d run?” Trixie asked hopefully.

“No, but it’d be a nice little final ‘screw you’ to the enemy,” Battering Ram replied with a predatory grin.

Celestia save us, Trixie thought, This idiot has already resigned himself to death.

Well, Trixie didn’t intend to die. She set her jaw in a firm, tight grimace. She was not dying out here!

The ursan Warcheif let out a horrendous, bellowing roar that was loud enough that to Trixie it felt as if the monster was right in front of her face. The horde of nearly a thousand ursans followed their Warcheif’s example and their roars filled the night up with the raw sound of rage and bloodlust that sliced right to the heart of Trixie’s pony instincts and screamed at her to be anywhere other than in front of the death to come.

She nearly did bolt, right then and there. She wanted to think it was courage that kept her rooted to the spot. If she was being more honest with herself, it was that she was too terrified to even think of moving.

Then the ursans charged, and the world shook at their coming.

The only good thing about the numbers of the enemy, Coco Pommel reflected, was that it was near impossible to miss with her crossbow.

Like all the other earth pony Equestrians she’d been drilled on the firing orders of the Legion. The Corporal of her assigned platoon, a cagey looking black earth pony mare with a gray mane, snapped her orders rapidly, sharply, and somehow managed to be heard clearly above the din of the roaring, charging ursans.

“First rank, fire! Clear, reload! Second rank, fire! Clear, reload. First rank, fire!”

Each command, a motion. Each motion, a moment of terror, replaced instantly by action as the next command cut through the fear. Coco Pommel was in the first rank, and fired on command, sending her bolt streaking into the black. She couldn’t see if she hit, but didn’t need to. Amid the roaring ursans there were also cries of pain, bellows of agony. Dark shapes in the charging mass staggered and fell. Some were hitting the traps infesting the muddy slope, or ran afoul of the wooden stake obstacles in their path. The ursans’ heady charge was soon stemmed into a bloody slog, each step leaving behind a dozen wounded or dying bears with bolts and stakes and iron jaw traps biting through flesh and making the mud slick with blood.

But it was only stemming the charge. Dozens out of hundreds hardly seemed a sting to the horde that was steadily charging the palisade walls. Yet the ponies fired. Coco, on the clear command, stepped back and to the side for the second rank to step forward. As the second rank fired she reloaded. Then when the second rank cleared she stepped forward, fired. Again and again.

Flashes of light turned the night to moments of day. Lighting and fire, raw blasts of arcane might, all flew down upon the ursans just like the crossbow bolts did. Coco didn’t have time to look at the unicorns, to watch the glowing arrays of magic form in the air then discharge their deadly spells into the ursan ranks. She couldn’t see where Trixie was, if the azure unicorn was working well in her own array. All she could see were the occasional blossom of fire or the deadly lance of lightning arc into the black ursan mass as it continued to surge towards them.

For a minute hope burned fiercely in Coco’s chest, along with an almost exhilarating satisfaction. They were killing ursans! Some part of her was horrified, but the rest, the part of her that seethed with anger at these beasts, was elated. Ursans were dying, not ponies! So far no ponies had died that she’d seen. Perhaps they’d break the ursan charge before it even got to the wall-

A sound like a sharp whistle filled the air, instantly followed by a sound like a watermelon smashing, and Coco’s face was coated with red. For a startled moment she forgot what she was doing, what command she was following; reload or fire? All she saw was that next to her a Heartlander mare, some young cornflower blue mare (had she been blonde or green maned?) was missing part of her head. Or rather it’d been crushed in, grotesque, like a rotted pumpkin, but the innards weren’t orange, but smears of dark red. The body twitched violently before falling over, a living pony rendered to dead meat in an instant.

The whistles were coming again, with dull thuds snapping across the palisade. Only for a second did Coco see what was causing the noise, hitting her fellow ponies. Rocks, flung rocks, the size of the heads they were crushing. One ricocheted off the upward jutting stake of part of the palisade near Coco’s head and splinters cut her cheek. Further down the line she saw a stallion, Barrier Lander or Heartlander it was impossible to tell, take a rock to his shoulder. The force twisted his foreleg all the way behind him, made his shoulder distend in an impossible fashion, and blood burst from his mouth in a welter as he tumbled back off the palisade without so much as a scream.

“Focus!” came the hard, cutting shout of the Corporal, “Lobbers, sixty yards back! Take aim! Aim damn you all!”

Somehow that sharp voice, filled with hard command, cut through Coco’s stunned mind and got her moving. She looked, estimating the sixty yards. Yes, there! She saw a line of ursans, black blobs but still distinct, that had fallen behind the charge. They formed a lose set of over twenty or so groups, all situated around bags of rocks. They grabbed the rocks, rearing up their hindlegs in tall, imposing stances. There must have been some kind of rope attached to each rock because Coco could see the ursan 'lobbers' spinning the rocks above their heads for several seconds to pick up speed before stone projectiles went sailing towards the fortress.

The Heartlanders looked ready to panic and lose all sense of cohesion with their first, bloody casualties, but Alpine rushed back and forth across the line, echoing the bellows of her fellow Corporals.

"Stand firm! Focus! Kill them back! First rank, fire! Fire damn you all!"

Soon enough order was restored in the ranks and Coco was firing again, her heart racing.

She aimed as best she could, targeting the groups of ursan lobbers and tried to ignore the whistles, those horrible whistles and the screams that came with them. If one did get her, she prayed she wouldn’t hear the whistle first.

Coldiron felt as if her teeth would shatter inside her mouth. The sound of the battle was wafting over her and the Arrow Vale volunteer companies, and it was a feeling akin to torture to wait here on the east walls while her comrades and friends fought and died to the west.

“Our turn is coming soon, my little icebrand,” said her father next to her.

“We should be over there,” she said, unable to help herself. She knew the need to keep all the walls guarded. The ursans wouldn’t just stick to the west walls for long. But it still was painful, knowing others were fighting, dying, while she waited and did nothing,

Her father didn’t argue with her, which surprised her. She looked at him and felt a hard stab of guilt. Solid Plough’s face was set in a tired, stone mask, only his eyes showing the glimmer of honest fear. Fear she could tell he was shoving down deep for the sake of his fellow ponies, and for her. The farmer putting on his bravest face for his solider daughter.

She understood better now why Blossomforth had hugged her earlier. Such a simple gesture, but capable of giving so much comfort. She suppressed the urge and looked back towards the west. It wouldn’t be proper to hug her father, now, would it?

The center keep blocked a fair bit of the view to the west, but she could tell that the companies on the west walls were fully engaged in battering the ursans with bolt and spell. There was no noise of the clash of blades and the pegasi hadn’t hit the air, yet, so the ursans had at least been slowed and hadn’t hit the wall. That wouldn’t last, though. The night was young, and the battle only begun.

“North!” came a startled shout from her own troop’s lines, “They’re coming around to the north!”

Coldiron went at a fast trot, passing the scared yet determined ranks of Arrow Vale ponies. Reaching the tip of the northeast wall she found the one who was shouting, a young stallion who looked barely old enough to hold the spear he had gripped in one hoof. He was excitedly pointing out, directly past the north gate. Coldiron looked, and saw that there was a spreading, inky mass of shadows that from the bellows had to be a clump of ursans. Perhaps a couple hundred? Impossible to make an accurate count in this darkness.

It looked like a flanking maneuver to her. They were probably sent to probe the defenses of the rest of the fortress.

They want to find out, I’ll gladly give them the answer. In blood, Coldiron thought with somber satisfaction as she turned to her ponies.

“Here they come! Get ready to show these ursans that the ponies of Arrow Vale are not to be taken lightly!”

Spears and smaller crossbows were readied, the irregular Arrow Vale companies forming into tight lines along the palisade. Only a few heavy crossbows had been available to equip earth ponies with, so many were armed with the lighter crossbows held in the hoof. The rest were armed with spare spears, or in the case of many, axes from their lumber work. Any unicorn who knew even a basic attack spell was set up in a second rank behind the first. There had been no time to even train the basics of arrays so Coldiorn had directed these auxiliary ‘battle mages’ to support the heavy crossbow shooters by focusing fire on targets of opportunity.

It was going to be dicey, but this was what she had to work with.

A few potshots went out at the ursans as the mob of two hundred rolled around the north end of the fort and then swung sharply towards the northeast wall. It looked as if the ursans had decided to test out the wall with a hard charge, and Coldiron had no intention to disappoint them.

Her father had already turned to go rejoin the ranks of the 2nd company on the southeast wall, but before he did she could see him giving her a last, firm nod, his eyed brimming with unspoken words. Then she had to start focusing on her own spellcasting, and could no longer wonder if perhaps she should have hugged her father earlier, proper or not.

She belatedly realized this might have been the last chance to say anything at all to her father, or he to her, before this night was over.

One way or another.

Author's Note

Hmm, not much to say here, actually. I think the only words that suit are ones spoken from one of my favorite tv shows: "And so, it begins."

Hope you folks out there are enjoying the story. I know I am. Next chapter is already well underway. For those curious, it's titled "Crucible". 'Till next time. :twilightsmile:

Chapter 11: Crucible

Chapter 11: Crucible

Needles of freezing raw terror threatened to choke Trixie’s mind as the first ursan heaved its overwhelming bulk over the top of the palisade. It had used its claws to haul itself bodily up the wooden wall, smashing past sharpened stakes, ignoring the deep gouging wounds the stakes carved into it, coating its body slick with blood. The beast raised its massive head right in front of Trixie, its jaws already open in a roar that shook her skull, its hot breath blowing back her mane. Her mind almost went blank, but the link of magic in her horn that connected her to the arcane matrix of her team was like a sharp, scalding splash of water that melted the cold fear just enough for Trixie to maintain her focus.

Power snapped through her, magic pouring from her horn into the array of magic that Battering Ram, Wine Taster, and herself had already been using to charge up a bolt of lightning. Even as the ursan lunged for Trixie, Battering Ram directed the power of their array and the world turned pure white for an instant, an electric thunder ringing Trixie’s ears as the raw current of lightning shot like a blinding spear into the ursan’s face.

Its roar of rage transmuted horribly into a twisted howl of pain, and Trixie could see the fur sizzling off of its face, charring flesh black. One of its eyes bulged grotesquely and popped like a small, dark plumb, like the kind Trixie used to eat when she went to the park with her mother. Trixie never intended to eat another plumb again, now.

With a meaty crash the ursan’s body fell back, smashing towards the ground below and knocking another ursan off from its own ascent up the wall, creating a brief domino affect among the ursans scrambling to get to the palisade. Yet that didn’t slow the wave, the undulating, roaring mass of ursans that assaulted Beartrap Fortress.

The walls, the very ground beneath Trixie’s hooves were constantly shaking. Some ursans weren’t even bothering to try climbing, but instead were smashing their bodies into the wall itself, taking turns like some insane conga line of death to ram the logs of the palisade. What terrified Trixie was that, in one or two places, this tactic had already succeeded in cracking the log beams. How much longer before the monsters smashed a clean hole through the palisade itself!? The gate was faring little better, holding fast against a press of ursans ramming into it. Bodies littered the field, an unending hail of crossbow bolts pelting the ursans, in many cases leaving the beasts looking like mad, giant porcupines. The mud around the fort was turning into a red slurry with blood, but the ursans just kept coming.

“Coming through! Watch it!” came a shout and Trixie ducked her head as a group of pegasi flew overhead, divebombing the ursans still trying to climb the wall. The pegasi had gotten into the fight… how long ago now? Trixie’s sense of time had become utterly fragmented. Had it been minutes or hours since the ursans first charged? She was so tired, and there was no moon in the sky to gain a sense of the passage of time. It felt like she’d already been fighting for an eternity, her muscles screaming, her face slick with sweat.

The pegasi dove, spears flashing. Their spear tips grazed or stuck deep into ursan flesh, then the pegasi pulled up from their dive, swooping up into the sky once more. They flew in squads of five, all working in tandem to kill or wound single ursans as the opportunity arose. Trixie couldn’t see Blossomforth among them, but knew she had to be out there. She had to be, because Trixie couldn’t let herself think of her friend being dead. But that fear boiled like acid in her stomach as well. The pegasi had taken plenty of casualties so far. Trixie felt wretched every time one pegasus mistimed his or her spear thrust, either losing balance because of a bad angle and crashing to the ground, or getting clipped by one of those horrible lobber stones. If a pegasus hit the ground they had mere seconds before the ursans would be upon them, tearing and ripping until nothing was left by bloody feathers and pieces of unrecognizable flesh. The screams echoed in Trixie’s ears each time it’d happened.

It helped her stay angry, and focus on that anger, and keep her magic flowing.

Battering Ram drew more on their array, charging up another bolt of lightning. The crackling blue electric energy buzzed in a tight sphere above their heads, threads of magic from all three of them feeding it.

“Steady,” said Battering Ram, sweat pouring from his own face, “Let’s thin them out by the gate this time.”

The thrum of magic built to a near unbearable crescendo, until Trixie feared the electricity would become unstable and turn them into black, dead husks. Then at the last moment before it felt like they were about to lose control Battering Ram sent the bolt crashing down into the ursans battering the gate. The bolt hit with enough force to send up a shower of dirt and at least two ursans went sprawling, their fur sticking out at all angles as arcs of electricity played over their bodies.

A hammer of exhaustion rammed into Trixie’s gut and she had to fall to one knee, panting profusely and shaking her head, “H-how… how many… more can there be…?”

“Plenty,” said Batter Ram, looking as if he was barely keeping on his hooves, “Doesn't matter. We keep going. Keep fighting. Until-“

Trixie didn’t get to find out until what, because at that moment another ursan reached the top of the palisade, moving so fast it was hauling half its body over the wood stakes, smashing them like toothpicks. It swiped wildly with one paw, and Battering Ram turned his head just in time to have his throat ripped open so deeply that he was nearly decapitated entirely. Blood splashed everywhere, a dark red blooming flower. The warm wetness washed across Trixie’s face and she barely had time to scream as the ursan turned towards her and roared.

Pulling higher into the frigid night sky, Blossomforth felt the first touch of a snowflake on the tip of her wing and was able to, at a glance, take in the oncoming weather. As a experienced weatherpony she felt a momentary sense of betrayal, as if her senses had turned on her, because the onset of this storm had come in fast and hard from the west. A fierce wind from the mountains had blown down a bank of brooding clouds that were just starting to get overhead, making a dark night even more so as the stars became obscured.

White flakes began to fall as Blossomforth and her squad banked hard to the left, angling for a fresh attack run on the ursans crawling up the northwest wall. Blossomforth winced as she saw a few ursans had already gained the top of the palisade and a fierce melee was begun, the earth ponies closest to the ursans on the wall switching to claymores and rushing the beasts.

“Back them up!” called the Legion mare leading Blossomforth’s squad, a light purple pony with a pitch black mane, whose name was Sharp Climb. She pointed with a hoof to mark their next target, one of the other ursans about to make the wall, and without another word she dove, the other three members of the squad, Blossomorth included, following in a breathless rush. They had been five until about three passes ago, when one of the poor Equestrian mares, one Blossomforth thought had been named Singing Wind, had made a bad strike with her spear that had lead the shaft to clip her own wing and sent her crashing into the ground. Blossomforth had tried to dive after her, but it had been pointless. Singing Wind had crashed headfirst, and the loud snap of bone had signaled a broken neck as much as her bent, unmoving body had been. At least she’d been dead before the ursans tore her apart… small comfort, and Blossomforth felt chilled to her core just thinking it.

She hoped they wouldn’t have a repeat with this run. There was no time to really think, the dark conditions bad enough before, but now the fresh snow and clouds making it worse as her squad dove at the ursan. A sharp whistle made her gasp, and she felt the rush of air as one of those dang lobber stones flew right past her head. Another inch or two and she’d be the one with a broken neck, or pasted head. Blossomforth grit her teeth, blinking back tears that she hoped were just from the wind shear, and focused on her target.

The ursan must have heard them coming, or it was just bad luck, because it had just reached the top of the palisade when it turned, using one paw to keep itself secure where it was, and lashing out with the other one at the same moment Blossomforth and her fellow pegasi lashed out with their spears. They were past the ursan in an instant, Blossomforth feeling the impact as he spear hit cleanly on the ursan’s upper neck. Her angle was good and her spear hit then pulled free, not catching to foul up her flight. The others made clean hits as well, but one of the others, a young stallion, was clipped in the wing by the ursan’s slashing paw. Blossomforth saw clearly the blood spray, the wing crumpling up, and the wide-eyed horror on the young buck’s face as he began to tumble down.

“No!” she cried, turning harder than she ever had in her life, all but reversing in mid-air. She flipped, rolling so that her back was facing the ground. One hoof outstretched, reaching for the tumbling stallion. “Catch it!”

He was still tumbling, cyan eyes wide with terror, his limbs flailing. Whether by intention or pure dumb luck one of his hooves did reach hers, and Blossomforth wrapped her limb around the stallion’s, bracing herself with hard flaps of her wings as his weight hit and nearly dragged her from the air. Keeping her grip firm she rolled, righting herself from her upside down position and began to beat her wings like a hummingbird to gain more height. Pain lanced through her, her still not fully healed injury from before causing a wretched agony to tear through her muscles. She nearly dropped her passenger, but Blossomforth pressed her teeth together so tightly she could feel her gums bleed as she focused on staying in the air. She was above the wall now, and she saw the desperate battle taking place atop the battlements.

Several ursans had gained the top and were mixed up in viscous melee with the earth ponies and unicorns defending the palisade. Blossomforth caught sight of one earth pony mare being swatted off the wall by an ursan’s back swipe, claws rending flesh and nearly ripping the mare’s chest open like a wet melon, only for another two earth ponies to fire into the ursan at point blank range with their heavy crossbows, the massive iron bolts smashing into the ursan’s face in sprays of bone and blood. The night was lit up by cerulean and inferno bursts of light as the unicorn’s turned their arcane power towards the interlopers both below and on the wall, and in one of those flashes Blossomforth saw Trixie, an ursan bearing down on the terrified looking unicorn.

Blossomforth felt tears pouring from her eyes as she beat her wings faster. She couldn’t possibly abandon the stallion who still clung to her, his broken wing rendering him flightless, but every instinct she had told her to go help Trixie.

Then she saw another pony, one who was charging across the palisade like a mare possessed. Blossomforth had one more moment to notice Coco Pommel had somehow traded her crossbow for one of those large, shining claymores, before the whistle of a stone forced her to dive aside, the harsh lobbed rock projectile clipping her side and sending her into a barely controlled tumble for the ground.

Coco was drowning. Her feelings were akin to a burst dam, a flood of regret, outrage, and sharpened instinct that drove away fear and pain, though she still felt those like dull, muffled voices in another room. When the ursans had managed to pile up enough to start climbing the wall despite the punishing, slaughtering barrage of crossbow bolts and spells thrown their way, Coco had been afraid. When she’d seen the first glowering, roaring visage of the bear that rose over the palisade no more than a few paces to her right Coco had screamed, but she’d also fired her crossbow. The bolt had lodged into the ursan’s thick, meaty shoulder, barely slowing it as it sunk its fangs into the neck of the stallion that had been unfortunate enough to be standing before it. Coco had seen the poor fellow’s eyes bulge out in sheer horror as his blood streamed from his neck and mouth, a crimson river that blocked his own gurgled scream as the ursan gave a single hard shake of its head. The sound of flesh tearing, a horrible sound akin to ripping paper, wet paper, had made Coco’s stomach curdle.

And amid that nausea the rage boiled, rose, and made reloading her crossbow somehow faster. She’d fired again before the ursan was done savaging the stallion’s now very dead corpse. Coco let out a rather unladylike curse as her second bolt somehow skipped off the ursan’s thick skull, rather than puncture into it’s brain as she’d hoped. The bolt had still left a red gash across the ursan’s brow, running thick blood into its snarly face as it turned its attention to Coco. Its eyes narrowed, blazing with hate and rage. Coco’s eyes blazed right back.

She had no time to reload as the ursan stepped towards her, and reared up, its claw poised with crushing intent. Coco turned, instinctively putting the bulk of her crossbow between herself and the ursan, halfway to rolling away by the time the claw descended. Luck, and her crossbow, saved the former seamstress from a bloody end. The crossbow took the bulk of the swipe, the ursan’s claws splintering the bulky weapon. Only a graze of those long, curved black claws touched Coco’s hide, her chain-mail armor managing to keep her safe from serious harm as she rolled away.

Coming to her hooves she saw her ruined crossbow and immediately went for a bolt, not to load, but instead as a makeshift short spear. It was a pathetic weapon against the goliath bear, but Coco had no intention of going down without a fight! Before she could charge the beast, however, it was beset by a number of other ponies. Not only did a flight of pegasi descend from the sky, stabbing with their spears, but a pair of earth ponies wielding claymores charged in from behind, rending and cleaving with the huge blades.

The ursan roared in pain, lumbering around, its bulk now working against it in the limited space atop the palisade. The pegasi had stabbed and flown by, a single punishing pass that left bleeding holes in the ursan’s back, but that hardly seemed to slow it as it turned on the two earth ponies that had attacked with claymores. Coco could tell both these ponies were Barrier Land Legionnaires, and she belatedly realized they were from the company on the other wall. A squad must have been sent to reinforce the beleaguered Equestrians. Coco, heart leaping, charged in to help with her makeshift weapon.

She stabbed hard into the ursan’s flank, the bolt barely sinking in, and hardly distracting it as the beast clamped its jaws around the leg of one of the Legionnaires before it. The mare screamed but doggedly kept slashing with her claymore while her partner leaped in with a hard, fierce lunge that sank his own claymore nearly to the hilt beneath the ursan’s throat. Even as a small river of blood poured from the massive wound the ursan gave an enraged roar and with a flip of its head sent the Legion mare in its jaws flying over the wall. Coco watched in horror as she helplessly descended into the shifting mass of ursans outside the wall. The mare’s claymore clattered to the palisade.

The stallion responded to this by digging his claymore in deeper, twisting it and ripping it across the ursan’s throat, finally forcing the monster to shudder and collapse in a dead heap. Coco, feeling her rage only building, came around the side of the ursan. The Legion stallion didn’t even stay to say anything or check on her. He just picked out the next ursan down the line and went charging off to help. For a second Coco looked down at the dropped claymore the Legion mare had let behind. Any reservation she might have had about using a dead mare’s weapon evaporated under the practicality of her situation and the scream she heard behind her. One look showed her Trixie, backing away from an ursan that had climbed the wall and killed the pony leading Trixie’s array team.

Coco didn’t hesitate, her anger seeming to burst from her pores as she scooped up the claymore in her mouth, the padded hilt feeling heavy in her jaw, and she charged.

Arcane lights flashed in the blackness as she rushed by other unicorns desperately throwing spells into the ursan horde still attacking the wall, and Coco saw other earth ponies still firing their crossbows, though any organization of ranked firing had given way to simple instinctual firing at will. Coco ran past them all, eyes focused solely upon the ursan that was seconds from slaughtering one of the few friends she’d made so far in this nightmare.

Time seemed to turn to a crawl in her favor, Coco could feel her blood flowing through every vein in her body, hot as magma. The thunder of her heart matched that of her hoofbeats, and for just a moment her anger seemed to gain a strange clarity.

Coco Pommel hated bullies, having spent most of her life dealing with them, wasting her career working for one. And the ursans were the most horrific, final, illogical, terrible evolution of the type. They killed because they could. Because they were bigger, stronger, meaner, and curler than anypony else. It was the epitome of everything Coco Pommel realized she stood against, and as much as she feared her anger it was clarifying, freeing , to understand that her anger was justified. It lent her a strength she didn’t know she was capable of.

Capable enough to dive through the dark haze of battle, leap over the blood soaked corpse of a unicorn stallion whose head was all but severed from his body, and with all the coiled strength she could muster drove her claymore tip first into the hindquarters of the ursan bearing down on Trixie.

Her teeth rattled, possibly one of them loosening, and her entire neck reverberated with the strain, but Coco felt more than heard the resounding crack like the splintering of a mighty tree trunk as her blade fractured the thick bone inside the towering bear. Its roar was felt in Coco’s own bones more than it was heard, a painful pressure that pushed on her ears and rattled her skull as the ursan turned itself around, forcing her to tear her claymore free and scramble to keep her hooves under her.

Naked, volcanic fury shone in the ursan’s dark eyes like twin black suns, and Coco had a bare moment to react as a hefty paw was lifted and a swipe of claws as large as daggers flashed towards her face. Agony tore across her, even as she threw herself back, her vision clouding murky crimson as blood poured across her eyes, blood from savage wounds now etched like ragged red valleys over her muzzle and cheeks. She had no thought for the wound, however, her world narrowed to a needle point of crystalline focus fueled by more adrenaline than her body had ever had to handle before.

Lips pulled back in a dark snarl the ursan lashed out with another thunderous strike, and the small seamstress from Manehattan twisted aside, throwing her body against the rough, jutting palisade ramparts as wood shattered into splinters where she’d just stood. Fire surging in her blood she all but bounced off the ramparts and swung her neck, sword clenched so tightly in her teeth she was certain she’d shatter them. Instead her grip held form as her blade opened a spurting gash across the ursan’s nose. It snorted, rearing up to its full, dwarfing height, clearly intent on crushing her.

Without warning a spark of emerald magical motes flew right in front of the ursan’s face and with a festive and ear splitting pop a flash of fireworks erupted right before the bear. It teetered, dazed and blinded for just a second… a second Coco did not waste. She surged forward, hindleg like coiled springs, and she shoved her claymore straight into the soft belly of the ursan, nearly pushing the large sword to the hilt in the ursan’s coarse brown fur. Coco could smell the sharp coppery scent of blood and all but taste the stuff as it poured out of the beast, splashing her face and pooling on the floor.

The beast paused, blinking in dumbstruck disbelief, and let out a gurgling groan before rolling off the back end of the palisade like so much dead meat, its body slamming to the muddy ground inside the fortress. Nearby Trixie was breathing heavily, eyes wide and near wild, but the showmare seemed to be bringing herself under stead control. Behind Trixie, Coco could see another unicorn stallion cowering, hooves covering his head. Wine Taster, Coco thought his name was. She was having trouble seeing, blood still muddying her eyesight. She could now more keenly feel the burning pain of the claw wounds on her face, but she suppressed the urge to whimper and instead looked to Trixie.

“Are you okay, Miss Trixie?”

“Bwuh?” was Trixie’s immediate reply. She still seemed a bit shocked, but she rapidly gained focus in her violet eyes and said, “Y-yes, Trixie is fine! You’re timely intervention is much appreciated.”

Any further conversation was halted by a echoing noise of splintering wood that was so loud it caused both mares to jump. Coco quickly went to look over the palisade, and felt the blood drain from her face as she saw that the largest of the ursans, the one clad in black iron armor who had been identified as the Warchief of the ursan horde, slammed its monolithic body once more into the western gate. This second slam nearly burst the gates open wide, but at that very moment a crystalline blue barrier of magic flowed up around the gate, looking like an incandescent wall of glass; a barrier spell.

“Was wondering if he’d do anything useful during this,” Trixie breathed, looking back into the fortress courtyard, where Coco could see a form standing a few dozen yards back among the gathered ranks of 4th Company. It was Captain Runeward, his horn blazing as he projected the barrier spell that was holding the west gate. Coco felt a small wash of relief pass through her at the sight. More than that, she saw that the palisade had been cleared of the enemies that had climbed atop it, and though the ursans were still throwing themselves wholesale at the fortress, despite the fact that dozens of ponies had already lost their lives, it seemed to Coco that they were holding the horde back.

For the time being.

Thirza waited and watched with growing impatience, his eight eyes no more than small pin-pricks of reflective light to the spectacle of the battle before him. As a hunter who had commanded many skirmishes and participated in more than his share of territorial battles in the name of broodmother Chirziane, Thirza was able to examine the fighting between the surface races with part of his mind turned towards analysis. The rest of his mind was buzzing with impatience to rescue that fool, Leyshi. But he knew how to feel the flow of battle, to know when the right thread arrived to strike at an opportunity. He sensed it would come soon, but not quite yet.

His three eights of hunters spread out behind him, each eight a tight knit group ready to move at his command. He could smell their eager pheromones of anticipation and pent aggression. It’d been too long since they’d had a good fight. The spinner caste had taken the brunt of the raid at the pony settlement, and too few hunters had gotten a chance to stretch their legs and put their rune gauntlets to use.

Thirza wasn’t certain this would be a suitable use for them, but this all fell within Chirziane’s plans, even with Leyshi’s idiotic capture. Thirza and his hunters were to weigh in on the ursan’s side, providing it became necessary. By his estimation it wasn’t, thus far. The slow, plodding ursans had yet to break the fortress walls, but the battle had been going on for barely two hours yet. The ponies would tire, the ponies would bleed, and eventually the ponies would fall.

It was a sight, he had to admit. Battles in the vast, twisting caverns of the Aranea homeland rarely got larger than ten eights, maybe twenty, per side. Ambush and counter ambush, carefully planned traps, and daring covert raids were the norm for Aranea warfare. Only rarely did larger battles akin to what Thirza saw before him occur. Usually when one broodmother arranged an assault on a rival’s stronghold. Thirza had only been in one such battle, Chirziane usually more than politically skilled to avoid the need in most cases, but in one instance needing to dispose of a stubborn rival for the control of a trade route both coveted. It’d been an exhilarating fight, though still not much akin to what Thirza was watching from the edge of the forest.

These surfacers had so much space to work it was hard for Thirza to really wrap his mind around. As were the casualties they were willing to inflict upon themselves for victory. Thirza almost admired the determined defense the ponies were throwing up, as futile as it seemed. The raw magical display coming from the west wall almost stunned him. For Aranea, who had to mine and absorb their magic from exteriors sources, to see such raw arcane power being thrown by beings that stored that energy inside themselves was almost humbling.

And yet it wouldn’t be enough. Through blossoming balls of scorching flames and blinding spears of lightning the ursan horde relentlessly battered at the pony’s defenses. The constant rain of crossbow bolts was weathered and the ursans did not slow. Thirza could see one pony among the defenders on the east wall who added terrible whirlwinds and lances of ice to the forces pushing against the ursans, and he suspected that one was the leader. Yet for all this leader’s efforts, the defense was buckling, he saw. Ponies were yanked from the walls to be ripped to shreds, and despite the ursans attacking the east wall losing eights upon eights of their number, they’d concentrated their full force upon a single small breadth of wall, and the Aranea hunter could hear the distinct cracking of wood as the logs of the palisade started to splinter under repeated ursan strikes.

Soon, Thirza realized, his chance would come. His window to bring his hunters into the fray. His large, segmented body quivered with anticipation, joined by a wash of pheromones that signaled to all three eights of hunters to make ready.

Coldiron wondered briefly that, if there were higher powers in the universe, exactly which ones and how many had she personally pissed off to have earned her current predicament.

While the vast bulk of the ursan horde was crashing against the western walls like a perpetually roaring wave of flesh, she and the Arrow Vale ponies were no less pressed for the fact that only a relatively small contingent of two hundred ursans were attacking their end of the fortress. Dozens of the bears had fallen reaching the northeast wall, their corpses like dark boulders in the field leading up to the palisade. With unbridled ferociousness the ursans divided themselves between smashing into the palisade wall with bone crunching force, or scrambling with their thick claws cutting deep furrows in the wood as they climbed to engage the Arrow Vale companies.

Coldiron’s horn strained under the casting of a fresh blast of freezing air, her pale blue magic bursting into a river of frosty white ice that buffeted a group of bears that’d gained the palisade wall near the north tip by the gate. Axes clutched in firm set jaws Arrow Vale ponies, mares and stallions alike with only simple leather armor to protect them, took to hewing at the hulking ursans as if they were back in their own lumber yards removing branches from freshly felled trees. The ursans, unfortunately, were not as yielding as trees. As axes fell, claws and fangs lashed out with equal frenzy. Coldiron stifled a cry of anguish as she saw Gnarled Wood, a friend of her family that she remembered carving a toy sword for her when she was little, be lifted into the air by a bellowing ursan and torn nearly in two, the old stallion’s entrails raining down like macabre confetti.

Gnarled Wood was almost immediately avenged as other ponies with their lumber axes rising and falling with fervent rhythm cut the ursan’s legs right out from under it and sent its body, bloody, legless stumps still pumping fountains of red, tumbling back over the palisade. Yet more ursans made their way up the wall, even as a squad of pegasi swept by overhead, wings blurred, light crossbows singing out a twanging staccato of fire that peppered the monstrous bear’s bodies.

“Coldiron!” she heard a call come up, and she saw mayor Straight Lace leading the column of the Arrow Vale 2nd company towards her position, the ponies clustered along the relatively narrow palisade walkway as they tried to reach the beleaguered ponies of 1st company.

She waved him back, raising her voice to a high pitch to be heard over the battle, “Hold! You can’t reinforce us from there! Get to the ground and line up behind us! Move it!”

It was a risky move, she knew. By taking the 2nd company off the southeast palisade to provide a backup line to support the 1st company she risked the fort if more ursans swung around the south end of Beartrap Fortress and found that wall undefended. Yet by her estimation the bulk of the ursans were too heavily engaged with the western walls to be an immediate issue over here, and she needed to keep 1st company holding. These ursans might crack right through the Arrow Vale companies both, but Coldiron saw no choice.

Mayor Straight Lace’s understanding of her orders was communicated by a start dip of the company flag, and she breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw the ponies of 2nd company moving quckly and in order down to the ground of the fort and starting to line up a good twenty paces back from the base of the wall behind 1st company. The sudden addition of crossbow fire from 2nd company plus a few light bursts of arcane bolts or flame jets from the few casters among the Arrow Vale gave the pressed 1st a second to breath. Coldiron shouldered her way towards the spot where the bulk of the ursans were still smashing against the wall, just in time to see something… extraordinary that made the blood drain from her face.

While ursans had been clawing over each other to climb the walls, keeping Coldiron and her companies busy, a small clearing had opened up among the bears right in front of the wall, a clearing where a single ursan stood. Coldiron recognized her as a female, an athletic and lean looking female whose dark fur was unmarked save for a single, large black feather tied into the fur behind one of her ears. This ursan female was, if Coldiron’s ears weren’t deceiving her, chanting, with a deep melodious voice that didn’t sound like it could possibly come from a ursan’s throat. That resonating voice was joined by a sudden, intense rumbling in the ground, and before Coldiron could think to cast a spell to strike at this strange ursan female the ground itself started to roll as it had become waves like the ocean itself, and suddenly roots burst from the dark, muddy earth. The roots pushed under the palisade’s deeply duck log wall and in seconds the roots rose, wrapped around the logs, and with straining pulls began to crack the log beams that had held for all the long decades of Beartrap Fortress’ existence.

In that moment, as the palisade walkway began to buckler underneath her hooves, Coldiron thought she caught sight of several dozen large, many legged shadows bursting from the treeline of the east forest and begin skittering at frightening speed for the unguarded southeast wall.

Lurkers!

Her mind choked out the word in an instant of intense dread that almost made her forget that the palisade beneath her was coming apart. Quickly she regained her senses and shouted at the ponies nearest her, “Move! Clear the way!”

She scrambled along with her fellow ponies as a ear splitting, gut churning splintering of wood reverberated loudly across the battlefield. She felt wood chips sting at her hide and her hind legs almost lose purchase as an entire five meter section of wall was pulled asunder behind her. Coldiron didn’t hesitate, her mind moving like quicksilver as she took in the sight of that horrible, ragged hole in Beartrap Fortress’ wall, writhing, pulsing roots still grasped around the broken, pinched in logs like large grasping snakes.

The ursans seemed almost as shocked as the ponies at the sudden hole in the wall, and that instant gave Coldiron the moment she needed to start shouting orders for the Arrow Vale companies to rally and form up on the breach. “1st company, hold the wall! 2nd company, circle the breach! Lurkers coming in from the east, brace for them!”

As she shouted she also concentrated a quick, simple spell through her horn, a shimmering white light flowing up the horn to its tip that then shot upward into the night sky. The light flared to life in a short burning ball of white light that flickered once, twice, three times in short succession. It was the signal to call for reinforcements from the 5th company that was, to her knowledge, still standing by in reserve. Assuming the west wall was holding she hoped it’d only take minutes for those reinforcements to arrive.

Seeing the ursans pour towards the breach in the wall like a roaring, furred wave, and knowing that in seconds the Lurkers may also be upon them, Coldiron wasn’t certain she and the Arrow Vale ponies had those minutes.

It hadn’t taken long at all for Leyshi to decide that, while it might very likely result in her being killed in an entirely inappropriate and painful manner, and deprive her of any further chances to learn about ponies, she ought to escape. The ponies were clearly very busy and distracted by their big battle with the ursans, after all, so she wasn’t likely to receive another such opportunity.

It was regrettable, these violent situations. She’d much have preferred to just sit and chat with the ponies, watch them and study them. It seemed a shame to have to escape, torture aside. But what was a little pain in the name of learning? If anything the only real hang up she had with the notion of escaping was that she didn’t think she could do it while those ominously silent and agitated looking guards were staring at her. At least she thought they were agitated. It was still very hard to tell with ponies. Each pony seemed to have different bodily reactions and she mused on whether they were based on personality, subspecies, or what the pony had to eat that evening.

For example, the surly looking broad pony mare without any neat appendages which Leyshi now knew was an ‘earth pony’ was standing so stock still she may as well have been a statue; she certainly had the same coat and mane color as granite. In contrast the fellow guard next to her, a stallion with the wings that made him a pegasus (Leyshi was so envious!) was practically twitching in his armor, constantly shifting on his hooves, his beautiful blue wings flapping occasionally.

It really seemed to annoy his companion, for she growled, “Will you cut that out!”

“Can’t! Dammit we ought to be up there fighting, not watching this ugly thing.”

“Well stop squirming. I’d rather be up there fighting too, but dancing about like you got a flea infection isn’t helping,” growled the female.

“I know! I know! But it’s… it’s starring at us. With those beady little eyes! It’s creepy,” said the pegasus, pointing a wing at Leyshi.

Leyshi puffed out a small bit of indignant pheromones, but chirped in what she hoped was a friendly tone, “I’m sorry but your bodies are fascinating to look at. Am I ugly? I thought I looked nice. Do ponies think we look ugly?”

“Shut it, monster,” the female pony grunted, taking a menacing step forward and aiming a crossbow at Leyshi’s face, “I’ve got orders to end your miserable existence if you so much as move an inch. Don’t tempt me.”

Leyshi quieted down, perturbed but not surprised. Aside from that friendly fellow Quick Needle it seemed none of these ponies wanted to talk to her. It was frustrating. What she wouldn’t give just to meet a few friendly, talkative ponies who wanted to know as much about her as she did about them. And it’d certainly help if she wasn’t a prisoner in the middle of a battle. Speaking of the battle, though she could see nothing in this dungeon cell, she could still hear and feel the fight. The ground shuddered and shook with the pounding of many moving creatures, and the blasts of spells. If Leyshi concentrated she could tell by the vibrations more or less what was occurring above.

“Oh, I think your side is not doing so well,” she said suddenly.

“I said shut it!” the female pony said, eyes narrowing dangerously, like glittering little pieces of flint.

“How can you know anyway?” asked the pegasus, nervously glancing towards the door that opened up to the stairs leading up.

Leyshi considered, an idea forming in her mind. Risky, risky, risky, but the broodmother had told Leyshi she needed to work on being more bold if she too wished to one day be a broodmother. Plan formulating in her mind even as she spoke she said, “It’s easy. My species live underground. We know how to feel motion and movements from long distances just by tremors in the earth. I don’t know details, but I can feel that your east wall just got a big hole in it, and the ponies there are being overrun. It doesn’t look good.”

“One more word, and I fire,” said the earth pony, her mouth tightening on the firing bit of her crossbow.

“Hold on a sec, Riverstone,” the pegasus said as he took a step forward, tilting his head towards the door, “We could use this. If it’s telling the truth, and the east wall is in trouble, the Captain needs to know.”

“That’s what signal spells are for, Skyeye,” Riverstone countered, face a tight grimace of annoyance, “Our orders are to stay here, and watch this thing!”

“Yeah, well, you can keep an eye on it then. If the signal didn’t go up then they need to be warned we’re losing the east wall!” Skyeye said back with a determined set to his jaw, “I’m going up. You going to shoot me for it or what?”

Riverstone glowered, “Fine, just get your ass back here quick! I don’t want to left alone with the damned thing!”

“Shouldn't take more than a few minutes,” said the deep blue pegasus, all but taking to the air as he fled out the dungeon. Leyshi waited until she could feel the vibrations of his hoofsteps fade into the background cacophony of the battle above before she turned her attention back to the lone remaining pony. Riverstone looked at her with unabashed and undisguised disgust and Leyshi feared for a moment that perhaps trying to escape wasn’t the wisest of moves. Somewhere behind all of her exuberant desire to learn more of these strange colored surface creatures and her eagerness to try and free herself there was the very real realization that she could die shortly if this went wrong.

Well, as the old saying went, a web couldn’t be spun if one was too scared to pick the first anchor point.

Her experiences with anything resembling combat were practically zero, but she had noted in her observations of the ponies thus far that their reaction speeds seemed a tad slower than what was normal for an Aranea of almost any caste. Perhaps it had something to do with the way their nervous systems were set up? She wasn’t certain, but she hoped that if she could get this twitchy pony to be distracted for a second then it’d be enough time to get the drop on her.

Decided old tricks were probably the best tricks (and besides, perhaps the ponies didn’t know this one!) Leyshi began to feign respiratory problems, letting out choking, ragged hiss and flopping her abdomen onto the ground. Riverstone reacted immediately, narrowing her eyes.

“Stop that! Whatever you’re doing, stop it now, or I fire!”

“Can’t... breathe... everything going... dark,” Leyshi wheezed out in what she hoped was a convincing tone of dismay and fear. Acting wasn’t her strong suit. Or any suit, for that matter. She tried wiggling her legs in dramatic fashion and pressed one to her thorax in mock pain.

Riverstone appeared unimpressed, “I don’t care if you’re having a seizure. Do you think I’m an idiot? Even a foal wouldn’t fall for that performance.”

Leyshi hissed in disappointment, letting her eight legs splay out in defeat, “Aw, I thought I was being convincing.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll need to try a lot harder to pull the wool over my eyes, monster.”

“What’s wool? And why would I want to put any over your eyes?” asked Leyshi with honest curiosity.

“Ugh! Just. Shut. UP!” Riverstone stomped her hoof for emphasis, face a mask of raw, teeth barred fury. The stomp was so hard it jarred a loose bit of stone from the wall behind the mare. When the small rock hit the tense Riverstone instinctively turned towards the sound. It took only a second for Leyshi to act with that moment of distraction, unexpected as it was for both her and the pony.

The brood caste held traits for all the other castes, necessary for the purpose of producing broods of any potential caste when it came time to mate. As a result Leyshi, like any young brood caste female, could spin webs just like a member of the spinner caste. Rearing up as fast as her injured, tired legs could allow she swung her abdomen around and aimed her spinnerets. Riverstone was turning back at just that same moment, having seen Leyshi move, but the young Aranea was swifter. A silky white rope of strong webbing fired out, striking Riverstone on the shoulder as she turned.

“What the-!?” the mare barely had a moment to shout in surprise before Leyshi yanked back on the strand of web as if it were a lasso, the incredible tensile strength of the web more than enough to hold fast as Leyshi pulled. Caught off balance, and not prepared for the strength such a seemingly delicate creature was capable of, Riverstone was pulled right to the bars of the cell and slammed into them hard, stunning her briefly.

Leyshi moved with lightning speed, rushing the bars and grabbing Riverstone with four of her eight legs, holding the pony fast.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Leyshi said in embarrassment as she quickly worked her abdomen, spinning more webs as she began to wrap up the struggling pony. It was tough, with the bars in the way, and the pony flailing her hooves with remarkable power, but once an Aranea has its prey in its grasp, there is rarely a chance for escape. Especially when Leyshi brought her fangs into play. Mentally she called forth not her lethal poison but the lower strength paralyser, careful to quickly sink her small fangs into the pony’s struggling neck with a fast nip that the pony probably didn’t even notice until the toxin would start to work its way through her body, numbing her limbs.

Riverstones struggles weakened, and gradually fell still, the pony’s breaths coming in small, short gasps as Leyshi finished wrapping up most of the mare’s body in a thick layer of web. Leyshi left the mare’s head exposed so she could still breath, and Riverstone remained conscious, eyes wide and now filled with almost mindless terror. Leyshi almost felt bad for the mare.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t eat you. At least not right now, at this time and place. Maybe later, if you get caught by others. Statistically speaking the chances of me eating you is very low, but one has to account for the possibility that it might happen. So, hmm, say a one in one hundred and eight eights chance of me eating you later. Which I’m sure you’d taste good, so please don’t think I’m insulting you by not eating you. Okay? Oh, um, how do I open this cell?... Right, you can’t talk right now. Sorry. OH! Is this them?”

Spotting a set of metal prongs on a ring hanging from the wall about four or five paces away Leyshi quickly snagged them with another shot of web. They looked somewhat like the kind of keys Aranea used, though very oddly shaped, all things considered. They were like little metal spears with teeth, instead of eight armed clasps, but Leyshi fiddled with them for a minute and soon enough found the one that opened up the door to her cell. The cell’s hinge screeched in a satisfying manner and Leyshi hobbled out with a feeling of merriment rising in her chest.

She’d freed herself! If she managed to get back to Thirza he might not be as mad at her now! Hopefully. Maybe.

Leyshi turned around, pumping out pleased pheromones even though she knew Riverstone’s nose wasn’t able to smell them, “Thank you for the interesting experience. I learned a lot. Bye bye!”

With that she quickly scuttled out the door and up the short set of stairs that led up into the main part of the pony fortress, keeping to the shadows and alert for danger.

The entire world was a spinning kaleidoscope of pain, bursting shadows being punctuated by flashes of light, and intense pyres of orange flame. Blossomforth felt almost nothing outside the sharp pain that encompassed her side as the wind howled by her. She gripped the screaming young stallion in her hooves tightly as she flung her wings out at every angle she could to try and control their descent.

Terror was threatening to claw her heart apart, but pure concentration and flyer’s instinct took over to keep Blossomforth from losing all sense of flight. She couldn’t see well enough to know if they were crashing outside the fort amid the ursan horde, but she knew that a crash was imminent, and that the best she could do was try and make it controlled.

Wings spread, catching the air between their feathers, she slowed her descent slightly, pushing her wild rolling and spinning into an almost controlled glide, but only just soon enough to see the ground rushing up to say hello to her face. Blossomforth tucked the stallion close to her barrel and braced her shoulders forward, hoping to roll with the upcoming impact.

Braced or not when she hit the ground it was like having the fist of a giant cracking her straight in the jaw. Every inch of her bones rattled and her entire mind was struck blank by the sheer force of the crash landing, her whole body rolling end over end for what felt like a short eternity. But she never lost her grip on her passenger, and was still holding him tight when she finally came to rest on her back, dazed, eyes swirling as she stared up at the sky with a bruised, bleeding face.

“Ugggh... worse than tornado duty back home... “ she muttered, raising her head to see if she had any ursans rushing to tear her limb from limb. Fortunately the first thing she saw was the interior of Beartrap Fortress’ palisade. It looked like she’d managed to crash land just a few dozen paces inside the area just by the west gate. She saw the incandescent blue luminous energy of some kind of magic barrier hugging the gate. The gate itself looked battered and ready to fall if that magic barrier was lowered. Somehow she didn’t think that was a good sign.

A pained groan got her looking at the stallion she’d saved, the poor fellow’s body not much better off than her own. His wing that had been clawed by the ursan during his ill fated flight was twisted and bloody, a torn red ruin that made Blossomforth think of shattered tree branches. Tree branches that bled. She held back an urge to upchuck and instead, patted the fellow’s head.

“You alive there, buddy?”

He seemed too out of it to answer, eyes closed shut and face a grimace of pain. She started to edge her way out from under him when she heard hoofbeats behind her. Glancing around Blossomforth caught sight of a vaguely familiar blue and orange maned mare approaching. Sergeant... Counter Charge? Yes, that was the name! Nearby Blossomforth could see that and entire company of Legion ponies was arrayed in front of the gate, and she recalled that this must be 4th Company, the one that’d been assigned to guard the west gate in place of the Heartlander company.

“Rough landing, recruit?” Counter Charged, asked, bending down to lend Blossomforth a hoof up, and taking a quick look over the stallion.

“Ehhh, I’ve had worse,” Blossomforth lied, stumbling to her hooves and swaying as her head delivered her a hefty blow of dizziness. “I think he needs a doctor.”

Counter Charge nodded after giving the stallion a once over, and quickly turned to her waiting company, “Two volunteers, take our injured to the medics in the keep. Pronto!”

Two soldiers immediately detached themselves from the waiting company of grim Legion ponies and in short order the stallion, whose name Blossomforth had never had the chance to learn, was carried away swiftly. This gave her a moment to take stock of the fighting. The interior of the fortress had almost a dozen dead ursans laying like bleeding boulders at various parts of the wall, likely killed during the fighting up on the palisade. Blossomforth could see the ponies up there, still letting loose a seeming unending stream of crossbow bolts and magic spells on the roaring horde beyond the walls. She could hear the impacts of ursan bodies slamming gthe palisade and the gate, the blue energy barrier at the gate shimmering with each hit. Other flights of pegasu squads wheeled and dove beyond the wall, no doubt striking at ursans still trying to climb. Blossomforth wondered where her squad was, but realized finding it in this darkness and chaos would be nearly impossible.

“If you can’t rejoin your squad,” said Counter Charge, seemingly reading Blossomforth’s mind, “you can join the rest of your company on the wall. Spear any ursans trying to get over. This night is far from done.”

Before Blossomforth could offer any response there was a bright flash of light to the east, a trio of white flares of magic trailing through the sky like overcharged fireflies. Blossomforth didn’t know what that meant, but Counter Charge immediately sucked in a harsh breath and swore.

“Buck! The east wall’s been breached.”

“Breached? As in, broken? Kaput? Giant hole, as in holy horsefeather’s we're in trouble?” Blossomforth sought clarification.

Counter Charge didn’t answer the question, instead just saying, “Get back with your company. We’ll handle the breach. 5th company is in reserve... yes, there they go.”

Blossomforth looked to where Counter Charge nodded to see another company of Legion soldiers, one that’d been holding back near the wooden keep as a reserve force, immediately wheeled around and began a fast gallop around the south end of the keep, heading to the east side of the fort. Blossomforth hoped that single company of a hundred ponies would be enough to deal with whatever had breached the east wall. She couldn’t help feeling a distinct clutching and clammy sense of worry.

Coldiron was on the east wall, last she knew.

On a sudden impulse she said, “Sergeant, can I go with them? Can I volunteer to go to the east wall?”

Counter Charge paused, giving Blossomforth a brief iron hard look. Whether it was resolve or something else that the Sergeant saw in Blossomforth eyes the pegasus mare didn’t know, but Counter Charge just gave a single sharp nod and said, “Go if you want then, but make it quick, recruit! Nopony gets to stand around lollygagging in this battle.”

Blossomforth gave a quick nod and smile, saying, “Yes Sergeant!”

While she was also worried about her Heartlander friends, especially Trixie, who had seemed so scared before the battle, if there was real trouble at the east wall she didn’t doubt for a second that Coldiron was in the thick of that trouble; and that the icy mage may well need somepony to help watch her back.

Counter Charge quickly returned to the ranks of her company, only briefly watching that white Heartlander pegasus fly off unsteadily. She was surprised the mare could still get in the air after that epic spill. She’d seen Legion pegasi take lesser crashes and be stuck land bound for a week afterward. Heartlanders apparently were made from stern stuff. Both inside and out. It’d seemed for a few tense minutes there when the ursans had first gained the top of the palisade that the Heartlander company would end up breaking and routing, and Counter Charge had almost sent 4th Company to reinforce them, but they beleaguered Equestrians had rallied, despite taking more than a few horrific losses. The wall was holding, and Counter Charge could only feel a sense of growing respect for these ponies that had lived peacefully for so long, yet were adapting to the crucible of war with inspiring speed.

Blossomforth was a prime example. Battered and bloody, but not even hesitating to volunteer to join the reinforcements to go counter the breach to the east. Counter Charge was a bit envious, wishing she take 4th company that way as well, but she could hardly leave the west gate undefended with the vaster bulk of the ursans still throwing themselves against this end of the fort. Perhaps the real reason she’d allowed Blossomforth to go to the east wall was because she too was worried about Coldiron.

Back among her company she stood next to Captain Runeward, who’d joined her company so he could use his warding magic upon the gate. The old stallion’s face was a sweating mask of pure concentration as his horn glowed with several solid layers of blue luminescence. He was breathing heavily, perhaps more so than she’d ever seen from the aged commander.

“Sir!” came a young, eager voice, and Counter Charge saw a pegasus Legionnaire rushing up to them, wings beating fast. She blinked, recognizing him as one of the guard’s they’d left with the Lurker in the dungeon. She suddenly got a cold, unpleasant feeling in her gut, like a block of lead.

“What are you doing up here, private Skyeye?” growled Runeward with dangerously hardened eyes.

Gulping, looking nervous, the private gave both Runeward and Counter Charge a quick, clipped salute, “Captain, Sergeant, I came to warn you that the Lurker sensed the wall breaking on the east side.”

“We already know,” said Counter Charge, face turning stone like, “The signal just went up. Is that the only reason you abandoned your post?”

Skyeye’s brow beaded with sweat but to his credit he didn’t flinch away from the iron stares of the two higher ranked Legionnaires in front of him. He even kept a steady voice as he said, “I didn’t want to risk that the signal didn’t go up, sirs.”

Runeward looked ready to buck the young private square in the jaw but Counter Charge followed Skyeye’s logic. There was no telling if the wall was breached if there’d be a unicorn still capable of casting the signal spell, so if there was even a chance of that then coming up to warn them about it was the only logical choice. It risked the prisoner escaping, but what was one prisoner against the possible loss of the entire batte?

“You made the call that felt right, private,” she said, managing a small, strained smile, “Now get back down to your post and leave the rest to us.”

Skyeye shot off another fast salute and was off like a shot practically before she was done speaking. Runeward eyed her with a deep frown, but he said nothing, resuming his concentration on his magical barrier. She noticed now that the Captain was wincing slightly with each reverberating smash against the gate.

“Blast it all, what do they have out there? A battering ram?” Runeward mumbled. HIs words were punctuated by the whistle and smack of a lobber stone hitting close to the ranks of 4th company, nearly taking the legs out from under a few of the soldiers gathered. Counter Charge grimaced. The lobber stones had mostly been hitting the wall, taking their toll on the troops up on the palisade. Counter Charge had heard more than a few blood curdling screams or bone crunching noises from the stones finding lethal marks. It seemed now the ursans were trying to sling their deadly stone payloads deeper into the fortress.

“Sir,” she said, “I think they’re aiming for you.”

Runeward glanced up into the dark night sky, eyes hard, “I can’t abandon the gate. They must know one or more unicorns is responsible for the barrier and are looking to get a lucky hit in.”

More stones began to land around them. Just a few at first, but before a minute had passed the lobber stones were coming down like irregular rain. A few more ponies among 4th company were struck, one stallion being completely bowled head over heels by a stone that twisted his neck entirely around with a sickening crack. Counter Charge set her jaw in a firm line as she reached out and took hold of Runeward’s shoulder, “Sir, we should move closer to the wall for cover.”

Now sooner had the words left her mouth that another of those intense whistles filled the air, so loud it drowned out the sound of the battle for a second, and Runeward’s body jerked out of her hoof’s grasp. She heard a tearing, wet crack, and for a second she just stood there, blinking in dumb shock.

Captain Runeward lay sprawled on the ground behind her, his back nearly folded upon itself, the lobber stone that’d struck him still halfway buried into his upper torso. It wasn’t even a smooth stone, but one that’d been sharpened, like a makeshift discus. Some clever, or crazy, ursan had modified some of his or her lobber stones, apparently. Either way the projectile had smashed into Runeward’s back squarely, severing spine, practically folding the old unicorn in half, like a rag doll that’d been bent over on itself.

There was no doubt he was dead. And with his departure, so too went his barrier.

The blue crystalline shield shimmered away like melting ice, and as it vanished the dull, glass echoes of the ursans that had been striking it now turned to violent wood splintering as the already weak west gate took the full fury of the ursans outside. Before Counter Charge could recover her wits enough to start ordering the troops of 4th company into order the center of the west gate burst open like a ripe tomato, its doors ripped off their moorings and falling aside with a resounding crash.

From the dirt and dust a looming, massive dark shadow emerged, resolving into the towering, powerful form of the ursan Warcheif. The black iron plates of his armor clanked with deafening metallic booms as the Warcheif strode past he shattered west gate into Beartrap Fortress, followed by dozens of his ursan braves.

In broken Equestrian the ursan Warchief roared, “I am Ulragnok! Come and fight, ponies! Give me battle worth our blood!”

Her blood running cold, but her heart somehow feeling still, with a sense of pure duty and purpose overcoming her shock and dread, Counter Charge drew the claymore from its sheath on her back and stood in front of the tense ponies of 4th company. With her voice ringing loud as drawn steel, she shouted, “Drive them back, 4tth company! For the Legion, charge!”

Author's Note

Whew, that one took awhile, didn't it? I apologize for the length of time it took to get this one done. Lots of characters in motion, with plenty of action to describe. Battles are fun to write, though, despite the work they take. And we're not done yet. Next time, the conclusion for the battle of Beartrap Fortress, titled "Courage and Cowardice". As always I appreciate all comments and critiques, and I'll see you folks next time!

Chapter 12: Courage and Cowardice

Chapter 12: Courage and Cowardice

Bowling. That had been all Allie Way had wanted to do with her life. Work at the local Ponyville bowling alley, get in a good game every evening once her shift was done, and maybe, as some far off dream, participate in some regional tournaments professionally once she got good enough.

That was it. How that simple life had been transmuted into the nightmare she was currently trapped inside was a question so far beyond her ability to grasp she thought she might have a better chance of passing a class on advanced teleportation magic.

She had blood on her, coating her face and neck with cloying, warm stickiness that left her feeling sick to her stomach. It wasn’t her blood, and she couldn’t be sure whose blood it was anymore. A lot of ponies had been dying around her tonight, she wasn’t exactly keeping track. Could have been from Ocean Salt, whose head had been crushed by one of those stones, splattered like a grape stomped on by an angry foal. That had broken the magic array Allie Way had been a part of just as those monstrous bears were climbing to the top of the wall.

She tried to fight. A part of her wanted to stand alongside the other ponies fighting for their lives and do what she could to help. It was as if her legs had been replaced with leaden weights and her stomach with ice water. Reactions came faster than thought and overrode any other intentions and Allie Way found herself cowering against the rampart wall, hooves shaking beyond her ability to control as the fighting surged and raged around her. The blood on her may well have come from any number of ponies or ursans dying around her at that point; she had kept her eyes screwed tightly shut the entire time.

She didn’t open them again until she was roughly hauled to her hooves by another pony and given a hard shake. The face that was gazing at her Allie Way belatedly recognized as the Legion pegasus who was commanding the Equestrian recruits. Alpine? Allie Way couldn’t remember.

“Hey, recruit, you still in there?” asked Alpine, her otherwise sharp edged voice blunted by a note of light, if forced, humor, “If you’re going to take a nap, can it wait ‘till after the battle?”

Allie Way, still dazed, looked about to see that it seemed the top of the palisade had been cleared of ursans, through her stomach churned at the sight of just how many of her fellow Equestrian’s bodies lay sprawled about in various states of dismemberment from the fierce melee that’d just taken place. Everypony, mare or stallion, looked tired and shocked, the survivors getting back into formations under the direction of the more experienced Legion ponies. As Allie Way watched she could already see earth ponies resuming fire with their crossbows and unicorns getting back into reorganized magic arrays. A lance of shame spiked through her, realizing she hadn’t been doing anything except cower.

Seeing Alpine still staring at her, Allie Way managed to stammer out, “I-I’m okay. Wh-what do I do? My.. .my array partners are all... I don’t see them...”

She knew Ocean Salt was dead, but she didn’t see the Legion unicorn who’d been leading the array either. No body, at least. Was that a good sign or a bad one? Her legs were still shaking, and that icy feeling in her guts wasn’t going away. All she wanted to do was find somewhere to hide! She couldn’t do that, through. She tried to remember what Trixie and the others had said about watching each other’s backs. To remember the story about their bravery in Arrow Vale. If Coco, Blossomforth, and Trixie could do this... couldn’t she do it too?

But the arctic fear wasn’t going away, no matter how much Allie Way tried to make it.

Alpine while pointing with a wing further down the palisade, quickly said, “Just go look for any unicorns that are short a horn for an array. We got to keep pouring the fire into those bears before they can regroup for another charge.”

Just as she finished speaking there was a distinct shift in the environment. Up until then the battle, taking place in a snow flecked night of deep darkness, was being partially illuminated by the glow of the magical shield that’d been covering the western gate. Now that glow abruptly vanished, and Allie Way watched with rising horror drawn upon her paling features as that shield dissipated like so much dust being blown away by a hash wind.

Many ponies craned their necks to look at the now unprotected west gate, more than a few gasping at the sudden, loud cracks of breaking wood that issued forth from that area. Allie Way heard Alpine breath out, “Oh, shit!”

Then with a sound like crashing thunder combined with a decidedly morbid snapping of bone to Allie Way’s ears, the west gate was smashed open. This was followed by a rolling bellow of dozens of roaring ursans, eclipsed by one particular roar that seemed to rise deeper and more blood curdling than all the rest combined. In her shocked state, frozen stiff, Allie Way was only partially aware of the Legion ponies being led by Counter Charge to meet the ursan force pouring through the destroyed west gate. Though barely a company of a hundred, Counter Charge and 4th company rushed in valiantly to crash into the onrush of snarling ursans in a clash of sound loud enough to snap Allie Way out of her stunned state.

Alpine was rapidly shouting, flying up into the air and gesturing at the Equestrian recruits, “Fall back by squads! Follow your corporals! Keep together and move as a group! Unicorns, get arrays formed! Pegasi, form up on me! Earth ponies, crossbows up front! Move it! Move it!”

Allie Way vaguely wondered, in a numbed back part of her mind, if this meant they were abandoning the palisade entirely? If the gate was gone... was it all over? Were they all going to die? Like a marionette being moved by a drunken puppeteer, Allie Way followed the flow of ponies being led down the various palisade inner stairs and ramps to the ground of the fort’s interior. Legion ponies kept their Equestrian Heartland counterparts focused with either hard barked orders or firm shouts of encouragement, Alpine flying over all of it with a growing cadre of pegasi forming into loose reorganized squads.

This northwest portion of the fort held several buildings, one of which Allie Way knew was the medical clinic, though she was pretty sure the Legion ponies had moved all the equipment and medical trained soldiers into the main keep, so the clinic stood dark and empty as they rapidly marched past it. Dark. Empty. Unlikely to draw much attention.

An idea sprouted in her mind, mixed with her fear fast as quicksilver, and lodged itself like a dark thorn as she got closer to passing by the clinic while following the flow of her company’s march. Everypony was marching so fast, so focused on the battle taking place now just a few dozen paces away that nopony was really looking her way.

Fear waged a swift and merciless war on her conscience. For a second she hesitated in her step, trying to force herself forward. The image of Ocean Salt’s head exploding underneath that stone flashed through Allie Way’s mind, and the blood on her coat somehow felt hotter, even though it’d cooled to a grimy glue by now.

I’m so sorry, she thought bitterly to Trixie and the others, I’m not brave like the rest of you...

Before the needle pain of shame could stay her hooves Allie Way swiftly ducked into the clinic, head low, and vanished into the building’s shadowed depths.

All semblance of unit cohesion had all but vanished among the Arrow Vale ponies. This could not be held against them, for they were not trained legionaries. Indeed, to their credit the townsponies could only throw the full weight of their pride and stubbornness into the battle, laying into the ursans that had broken through the east wall with fury to match their carnivorous foes. Bearing the pride of the Western Barrier Lands on their shoulders the raw hardiness and bullheaded refusal to back down was keeping the ponyfolk of Arrow Vale matched blow for blow against two hundred strong ursan force and led to a pitched, bloody melee at the very entrance that had been cracked open into Beartrap Fortress.

Coldiron could no longer command much of anything, any orders she’d tried issuing being fundamentally pointless in the intense fight swirling around her. It was now down to simple kill or be killed, and praying to the powers that be that her side managed to do more of the former than the later.

With a hard side-step she threw herself to the left of a charging ursan brave, its painted face and bloodied jaws missing her by scant inches. Focusing a tight arcane beam in the tip of her horn she waited for the lumbering beast to start righting itself and turn its blazing eyes towards her before sending the lance of blinding magic energy to sear a line of raw, burned flesh across the ursan’s face. That didn’t kill it, unfortunately. She was running so low on magic that she had to pace herself. She’d been hoping to take the ursan’s eyes, and leave it to be slain by anypony with a decent sized axe or spear. Instead she’d been off by a few inches herself and had only scorched the monster’s cheek, and with a ear splitting growl it rushed her again.

Coldiron backpedaled, panting and lowering her head to aim her horn dead on towards the charging ursan. Frost collected like rime along the edges of her horn and began to coat the ground before her. She waited until the last possible second before letting a spike of ice grow up from the ground, anchored by the coat of frost in front of her, before rolling away. The ursan’s charge had built such momentum it couldn’t turn away from the spike in time, slamming into the sharpened ice at full speed.

She heard the wet thunk of the ice spike piercing thick ursan flesh, and smiled in tired satisfaction at its gurgled cry. The bear didn’t fall, even with the stake of ice lodged firmly in its chest, dripping thick streams of dark red blood. It turned towards her, feet unsteady, but still determined to charge at her once more. Before it could, however, several ponies came in from the side, all wielding axes with wide, hewing arcs that slashed into the weakened ursan’s hide. One of these ponies Coldiron saw was her father, his large bulk still dwarfed by the ursan he was attacking but his axe still cleaving deep into the monster’s flesh, all the muscle he’d built up over a lifetime of hard farm work now allowing to deliver devastating blows.

The ursan fell much like a chopped tree, and Coldiron was fast to approach her father and the ponies with him. He was coated with blood, but it didn’t look like much was his own as he wiped his face and gave her a small, grim smile.

“Dirty work, this battle,” Solid Plough said, breathing hard.

Another pony next to him, a thickset purple mare with a rough cut black mane, hefted her own axe and grimaced at the pitched battle, “Ain’t looking too good so far, fellas. Too many bears, not a lot of us to chop ‘em down.”

Coldiron only needed a quick glance to confirm the mare was right. For ever ursan that the Arrow Vale ponies were managing to bring down it only seemed to leave their own numbers getting thinner and thinner, more pony corpses carpeting the ground than those of the bears. Coldiron ground her teeth together in frustration. They needed to hold out at least another few minutes until reinforcements could arrive!

To make matters worse she could clearly see that female ursan near the center of the battle, the one who’d opened the hole in the wall. That ursan was moving with fluid, swift motions seemingly out of place on a ursan’s bulky frame, easily wading into the thick of the fighting like an expert dancer at a ball. Even as Coldiron watched the female ursan slashed out the throat of one pony with a skilled back-swing of a claw, then with a bellowing chant a series of roots shot up from the ground like small spears, impaling another pony in a dozen places.

“Nasty piece of work,” said Solid Plough, frowning, and Coldiron nodded in agreement with her father.

“If we kill that one, even if we lose the east flank entirely, at least it won’t be able to use its cursed magic against our comrades,” Coldiron said, glaring at the female ursan and scuffing the ground with a hoof, making her intentions clear. Her father and the ponies with him all nodded agreement and Solid Plough leveled his axe at the read.

“Then let us go, my little icebrand.”

As one the ponies charged, stampeding across the battlefield towards their target. Coldiron felt a swell of pride and odd contentment, despite the desperate, bloody battle. For once in her life she and her father were in agreement on what needed to be done.

A few ursans saw their charge and moved to block their path, but the female ursan saw as well and with a sharp bellow it seemed to Coldiron that she ordered the other ursans to back off. Shockingly the ursans obeyed, clearing out of Coldiron and the other pony’s path as they charged. Coldiron didn’t question why this was, instead focusing all of her attention on the female, who had turned to face them with what was to Coldiron the oddest smile. She hadn’t ever seen an ursan smile before, and the effect was chilling.

Ignoring the unsettling feeling she lowered her head and shoved magical energy in a inelegant but brutally effective casting, conjuring a curved series of ice blades that she flung at the female ursan like boomerangs. In response the ursan sucked in a breath and let out a series of resonant chants that made Coldiron’s ears ring, and from the ground erupted and entire blanket of thick roots that slapped and batted the icicle blades out of the air.

Coldiron cursed, rushing to the right, while her father and the three other ponies with him went left. The roots, writing like a mass of snakes, shifted and began to whip at the ponies with lightning speed. Coldiron rolled away as one root tore some of her hide, snapping off a piece of her leather battlemage coat. She heard a scream and saw one of the ponies with her feather take the full brunt of one root cracking into her side, quite likely crushing ribs as she was sent flying.

Then the ursan laughed and spoke, in Equestrian, with a voice like a strummed cello, “I think you must be the leader of this side of the battle, ice pony. I want to honor you with personal battle with me. Show me the power that has earned Grandmother’s respect!”

Grandmother? What was this ursan babbling about? Coldiron neither knew nor cared as she came around the ursans left side, firing off a series of small, but fast magical blasts as she ran. The ursan didn’t even bother to try and avoid them, letting the magical energy smack into her thick hide with little more than a snort. The ursan turned startlingly sharp green eyes towards Coldiron with a lot more intelligence and regard than the unicorn was used to seeing on an ursan warrior’s face. There was a keen light in those eyes that left Coldiron feeling as if she was being placed upon a scaled and weighed.

“You hardly seem at your best. That’s a pity,” the ursan said as Solid Plough and the two remaining ponies with him charged in at her from the other side. Without even looking the female ursan kicked out with a back leg, catching the stallion next to Solid Plough square in the chest, almost caving it in and he fell bonelessly to the hard soil. Solid Plough and the remaining mare at his side didn’t slow at the lose of their comrade and both went in side by side, axes slashing down. The ursan slashed viciously, a swift chant on her lips. Her paw caught Solid Pough’s axe, the blade drawing blood, but stopping it in its tracks. Roots shot up from the ground direclty underneath the ursan, spearing away the other axe swung by the purple mare. Before either pony could react, or Coldiron could begin to cast another spell, the ursan pushed back Solid Plough and his axe, causing him to backpedal several steps, then in the same motion the ursan slashed down hard with a paw at the purple mare, who raised a leg in reflex.

Blood coated the ground as the mare’s leg was almost entirely severed by the blow, the limb now dangling by a strip of rag-like red flesh. The mare fell, screaming and clutching the near stump of her leg. Solid Plough looked at the scene with eyes wide with horror, then with his face twisting into a howl of rage he pounded his hooves in a charge like a locomotive towards the ursan. The bear seemed less concerned and more welcoming of the attack, her jaws flashing white fangs as she seemed to beckon Solid Plough onward with a gesture from her paw.

Coldiron was trying to channel a spell, one strong enough to actually hurt this potent foe, but the energy was taking time to form at the tip of her horn, a coalescing white light that was flecked with motes of blue. Her breathing was sharp and her head swimming with pressure and pain as she pushed her dwindling magic reserves towards their rapidly approaching limit.

Meanwhile, Solid Plough reached the ursan, drew his neck back, and hewed with his axe in a wide, crescent arc.

The axe slashed a crimson line across the ursan female’s chest as she rose to her hind legs, the blade drawing blood, but hardly seeming to affect the towering bear as she stood over Solid Plough. Large a stallion as he was he was made to look like little more than a newborn colt compared to that towering mountain of bearflesh. The ursan pulled back an arm and swung it forward in a powerful blow, the air all but whistling off its onyx claws. Solid Plough tried to leap out of the way, but was caught in his side. Claws parted flesh, gouging three deep furrows in the stallion that sprouted rivers of blood in the black night air as he was sent sprawling to the ground like a rag doll a dozen paces away.

“Father!” Coldiron shouted, the word tearing itself from her throat just as she was finishing the spell she’d been channeling. An intense bar of pure white arcane power flashed through the night and seared a smoking path down the ursan female’s back, charring flesh as it went. The smell of burned fur filled the cold, snow dusted air.

The female growled loudly in unrestrained pain and with swift, titanic steps that shook the ground, turned back towards Coldiron, dropping to all fours once more. Mist frothed from her mouth as it cracked into a pleased smirk of fangs, “Felt that one. Good, you still have fight. That one was your father? If he dies I will honor his soul with song, and drink to the day we face each other again in the world after, upon the slopes of Urhiem or the plains of the Eternal Herd.”

Coldiron, panting, glanced towards where her father lay. She couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. The amount of blood coating the ground where had fallen left her numb in her gut. Gritting her teeth, she spat and glared at the ursan, letting her eyes declare her intent to kill rather than her words.

The female huffed out a pleased sound that might have been a laugh, and looked ready to meet Coldiron head on... but then a look of confusion crossed the ursan’s face, soon replaced by a growl as her body bristled. However, she wasn’t looking at Coldiron, but towards the south. Coldiron, despite her better judgement, craned her neck to look south as well, and felt her face pale.

Emerging from the night’s shadows, having already climbed the palisade wall as if it were no more obstruction than a set of stairs, was easily two dozen giant Lurkers. At the head of the pack was what Coldiron knew had to be the same massive Lurker that she had fought beneath Arrow Vale.

With swiftness and deadly power the Lurkers bounded into the flank of the battle. Some of the horrific spiders leaped nearly twenty paces into the fight, landing upon unsuspecting ponies with deadly ferocity. Coldiron could see that upon the front most legs of these large, hair covered Lurkers were large, bladed gauntlets, engraved with faintly green glowing runes. Coldiron watched in mute horror as the Arrow Vale ponies who’d been in the rear of the battle, either trying to recover from wounds or help the wounded in turn, were rapidly cut down like so much wheat before an army of threshers. Those glowing gauntlets split ponies in half, or impaled them with impunity. Lurker fangs sank into ponies who barely had time to turn and try to bring weapons to bear in futile defense. Even if there were just two dozen Lurkers, their size, speed, and the ferocity of their sudden attack all but shattered the Arrow Vale ponies’ rear line.

Snapping out of her shock, Coldiron quickly turned to face her enemy, glaring at the female ursan. She had to kill this one fast, and organize a retreat as fast as possible! But to Coldiron’s surprise, the female ursan was backing away, a look of... of disgust on her face.

“Ulragnok, you fool,” the female ursan was saying in a bitter voice, “So this was your secret. Grandmother will be furious. Sorry, ice pony, but we will have to finish our battle another day, if fate wills we meet again. Remember my name for that day; Regarna.”

With that the female ursan turned and bounded away, heading straight for the hole she’d opened up in the palisade. Coldiron thought only for a second about trying to pursue, but had other more immediate concerns. First she went to check on the purple mare whose leg had been all but taken off. She was still alive, but pale from blood loss. Coldiron gave her a heavy look, saying, “Hold still, this will hurt for a second...”

The mare gave a weak laugh, “Don’t think a bit more hurt’ll matter much now, hun.”

She channeled a concentrated, limited field of ice and covered the wound. It was a poor, makeshift way to stop the bleeding, but it would keep the mare alive for the moment. The mare’s face twisted in pain, but she nodded.

“T-thanks. Now go, check on your father...”

There wasn’t much time to do that. The Lurkers were tearing into the battle, and it’d would be a matter of moments before they were overrun. The ursans were still fighting, through upon seeing the female falling back many of the bears had backed off, some in confusion, others just following the female. Coldiron rushed to her father’s side, kneeling next to him and putting a hoof on his side. The wounds that ursan, Regarna, had given him were deep, and bleeding badly, like red valleys across the side of his barrel. Yet he was breathing. Unconscious, but breathing. Coldiron closed her eyes, pushing back tears. There was no time for that.

Coldiron stood after gently raising her father and picking up the purple mare with her magic, settling the mare on her back and holding her father aloft as carefully as she could. She’d have to carry them both to safety, if they could make it in time. She still had one last duty to the battlefield, however. The Lurkers were still tearing into the south flank, though Coldiron saw the Lurkers advance was actually slowed by running into the ursans, the bears seeming to see the giant spiders as enemies as much as the ponies. The brief confusion this caused among both the bears and the spiders gave a small window of opportunity for Coldiron to get what was left of her command out of this mess.

“Everypony!” she shouted, using a quick command spell to enhance her voice so it reverberated across the battlefield like a struck bell,, “Fall back to the keep! Back to the keep!”

Blossomforth saw the state of the fight at the east wall and her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. There couldn't have been much more than fifty ponies still alive down there, falling back in a ragged line. Pursuing them was a combination of ursans, and of all things more of those Lurkers! Fighting together? Or perhaps not? As Blossomforth watched more than a few of the ursans had turned upon the Lurkers and were fighting the giant spiders as much as trying to pursue the fleeing remnants of the Arrow Vale companies.

The Lurkers for their part were showing no mercy to pony or ursan, cutting down the bears that stood against them, and relentlessly tearing into the fleeing ponies that were desperately trying to get to the keep in the center of the fort.

Among those ponies she could spot the bright blue glow of magic she knew to be Coldiron’s, and could make out the unicorn down there in the darkness, sending a sheet of ice to slow down the lead Lurkers. Coldiron herself looked slowed by the burden of carrying two wounded ponies, one on her back, another in a field of magic.

Blossomforth glanced towards the corporal in charge of the pegasi squads of 5th company. They'd’ flown ahead of the company's main body, which was still galloping around the south end of the keep. She could see the column of earth ponies and unicorns even now setting up a fresh defensive line at the front of the keep, giving eager shouts for the Arrow Vale ponies to reach the relative safety that wall of blades and crossbows could offer.

“Damn, those are some big spiders,” she heard one of the legionnaires flying next to her breath, looking at the Lurkers with wide eyes.

“No pissing your feathers, folks! We got comrades to save! Dive!” shouted the corporal, and as one the squadron winged downward, Blossomforth following suit.

The cold night air rushed by her and in seconds she and twenty other pegasi went flying straight over the retreating Arrow Vale ponies and lanced straight into the pursuing Lurkers. The Lurkers, for their part, must have sensed the incoming attack, because more than a few lashed out with the bladed gauntlets on their forelegs, or simply leaped up into the air with powerful jumps. More than a few pegasi were met with messy ends, but not before puncturing spears into the chitin of their new, arachnid foes. Blossomforth managed to avoid death, if only narrowly as a Lurker’s leap almost tackled her from the air, only a last second barrel roll getting her out of harm’s way.

Though they’d lost a few of their number, the pegasi’s attack had injured several Lurkers and stemmed their pursuit of the Arrow Vale ponies, purchasing them the time they needed to reach the protective line the rest of 5th company had formed. Now, with no friendlies in the line of fire, the earth ponies and unicorns opened fire; crossbow bolts and deadly arcane spells making a scathing compliment to the pegasi’s distraction. Blossomforth had expected the Lurkers to reel under that assault and fall back, but instead the lead Lurker, who looked rather familiar to Blossomforth now that she was looking at it, only hissed loudly and the giant spiders suddenly broke into multiple small groups that scattered with dizzying speed.

This presented a problem to the unicorns and earth ponies, who suddenly no longer had a clumped enemy to target, but instead a bunch of smaller groups that were moving so fast to the sides that the mass crossbow fire and spells was suddenly much less effective. The Lurker groups came in at 5th company from all sides now, closing the distance in mere seconds. The ponies clearly weren’t prepared for the speed of these new opponents, combined with viscous strength and deadly weapons in the form of those glowing rune covered gauntlets.

Before the pegasi squads had even regroups for a fresh attack run the rest of 5th company was thoroughly embroiled in a desperate melee. And in the middle of that fight Blossomforth could see Coldiron, having joined the defensive line, throwing up a wall of ice against that oddly familiar Lurker. The huge spider’s gauntlets shattered the wall of ice, and the monster slashed aside other ponies while bearing down on Coldiron with seeming single minded intent.

“Coldiron!” Blossomforth shouted, beating her wings as fast as she could manage while diving, ignoring any calls from her fellow pegasi to stay in formation.

Sweat froze like snow crystals on her fur, and the dark night seemed to grow darker with each spell she cast to try and fend off the Lurkers that were relentless in their attacks. The spiders, for all their impressive size, were so light on their eight legs that they could dart in and out at the Legion soldier’s defensive line with sickening speed. Even a glancing blow from their fangs could kill, as Coldiron saw one pony survive a bite to the shoulder only to, moments later, go into convulsions and drop with froth screaming from her throat, poison doing its deadly work. The gauntlets the Lurkers work upon their forelegs were just as dangerous. The blades upon the gauntlets were different for each Lurker, some curved, others straight, while others still were jagged or serrated. Yet regardless of shape the blades were all equally proficient at cleaving through armor and the flesh of ponies.

Coldiron was near empty of magic, feeling as if she was a well that was not only dry, but had been dug into past the bedrock. The ursans had been bad enough. The spiders were somehow worse. Huge even more so than the bears, and faster than grease on a skillet, the Lurkers tore into 5th company’s line brutally.

Claymores wielded by earth ponies still clove deep into the Lurker’s chitin, where those gauntlets didn’t deflect the blows. And spells still worked, other unicorns flashing fire and lightning into the spiders as they skittered about. The damned things never stayed still! Unlike a lumbering ursan, the Lurkers, large as these big, hairy ones were, moved with deadly speed. And leading the bunch was the very same Lurker from Arrow Vale.

As soon as she saw its wretched eight eyed face she somehow knew it had to be the same one she’d narrowly escaped just a few days ago. It clearly recognized her as well, and remembered, because it had suddenly turned to focus all of its attention on her. Fortunately she’d been able to set down her father and the other injured mare, some of the other Arrow Vale ponies taking them along with the other wounded into the keep while 5th company held the line here. That meant that if she died here, her father might still make it.

Trying to slow the Lurker down she poured as much of the remaining magic she could dredged up from her body into forming a wall of ice, but that wall, small and pitiful as it was with her limited magic reserves, was smashed apart in mere seconds. Then the Lurker was looming above her, it's gauntlets raised to slash.

Then a white blur dived bombed the Lurker from above, shouting, “Coooldirrrrron!”

The Lurker lurched, seeming more dazed than hurt, from the spear that’d been driven into its back. It hissed and twisted its body, tossing off the crazy pegasus that had dived onto it. Coldiron was able to recognize Blossomforth’s rather unique mane colors as the pegasus managed to right herself in mid-air. Her spear had been left behind in the Lurker’s back.

“Hey! Coldiron!” Blossomforth said breathlessly, waving, “You okay!?”

Before Coldiron could respond she saw the Lurker recover its senses, turning its alien gaze upon the pegasus that’d injured it, and she reached out a hoof, starting to shout a warning. Too late. The Lurker’s gauntlet blade flashed, and there was a wet, tearing sound. Blossomforth got a blank, quizzical look on her face as she was suddenly falling out of the air, a shower of blood following her to the ground.

Both of her wings had been completely severed off, the two feathery appendages floating to the ground slower than their previous owner, like a pair of large, feathered snowflakes.

Thirza felt an incredible rush of satisfaction, seeing the winged pony thing fall to the ground. It’d been a clean hit, and he was quite pleased he’d managed to clip both wings off the pony without damaging the rest of her body. After all he wanted that one for his own personal victory feast once this battle was over with, and it wouldn't do to spoil the meal by killing her. But that flying around was irritating, and that pony had dared to injure him! He’d have to let its fear build and marinate its blood for a time before consuming it.

He saw the other pony, the magic one, rush to the fallen former flier. He let out some amused pheromones, laughing. How sweet it was to get two of the ponies that had humiliated him in the same part of the battle! The web of fortune was spinning in his favor tonight!

His hunters were faring well so far, he could see from both his many eyes and from the smell of their excited battle pheromones. Some were injured, true, but so far none had fallen, and from what he could see they’d so far slain several eights of these small, four legged surfacers. The ponies tried to hold to their inelegant, slow formation, firing bolts from mechanisms on the backs of the unwinged and unhorned ones. Those bolts could hurt, he saw, much like the spears wielded by the flying ones. Several of his hunters sported a few bolts sticking from their furred carapaces. The magic being flung by the horned ones were more dangerous.

The fire was the worst, searing painfully even when blocked by one’s enchanted gauntlets. With a displeased hiss he noticed a few of his hunters had gauntlets that were already glowing so brightly green with consumed magic energy that he feared they might soon be filled. The runes etched on a hunter caste’s gauntlets could only eat so much magic before there reservoirs were full and they’d lose the power to consume any more mana. Normally this was not an issue in battle with other Aranea, who had limited ways to project magic, but these ponies relied on magic attacks so much it was proving to be more than Thirza suspected his or his fellow hunter’s gauntlets could withstand for long. They couldn't afford to long, drawn out fight. Not while this outnumbered. They held the advantage for the moment in ferocity and momentum, but that would change if even a few of his hunters were killed. Still, enough time to deal with this one gray little horned pony and the now wingless white one. He’d claim them as his and then break off the attack to regroup and search for Leyshi.

Only as he raised his left bladed gauntlet, its long sharp metal gleaming in the reflected light of spell magic, he noticed the horned one was standing in front of the downed wingless one and her horn was glowing with several layers of convulsing blue and white magic; pulsing as if a living thing. That struck Thirza as odd. Wasn’t this one nearly exhausted already?

No matter, he’d finish it now.

He slashed down hard, aiming his blade straight for that brilliant glow of magic. He didn’t know what kind of spell the horned one was trying to cast, but his gauntlet, like all hunter’s enchanted weaponry, as designed to absorb and deflect magic as needed. No spell could-

The world turned white for an instant, a searing light that hurt his many eyes. He felt the descent of his gauntlet halted by a force that felt like hitting a solid wall and Thirza’s front most left leg was engulfed in freezing agony. When his eyes adjusted to the light he saw his blade had hit a kite shaped shell of ice that had formed around the gray horned pony’s body, the gauntlet and front part of his leg trapped inside the ice. And that wasn’t all, frost climbed up his limb like a rapid growing mold, white crystals of ice snaking across his chitin and leaving raw pain in its wake. Thirza, shocked, pulled away, all but jumping back from the horned pony. To his absolute horror the front part of his leg, near frozen solid, broke away from his body, leaving itself behind along with one of his gauntlets. In mute, stunned disbelief Thirza stared at his frozen leg and gauntlet, now covered completely in frosty blue rime and laying on the ground before the gray horned pony.

He’d feared his gauntlets were near their limit of magic consumption, but he hadn’t expected this one pony to by itself overwhelm the enchanted weapon! What wretched luck.

The pony stood there, staring at him with baleful eyes, eyes that couldn’t fail to communicate their raw rage even to Thirza’s alien mind. Yet despite the moment of fear he felt at the sight it didn’t take him long to notice the pony was swaying on her hooves, as if dazed. Then he heard it, a loud crack that somehow seemed to echo clearly over the sounds of battle like a clarion call. The pony’s horn had a single splintered crack running up and down its length. The gray pony let out a deep throated, ragged growl of pain, and teetered on her hooves, yet she seemed to keep herself standing by sheer force of will, standing boldly between him and the fallen former-winged pony.

Sheer indignant anger rushed through Thirza as he thrust aside the pain of his missing limb and advanced on the two ponies. The gray one made no move to cast another spell. Perhaps she couldn’t, with her horn cracked so? Foolish indeed, then, to stand in his way, rather than flee and try and save herself.

Speaking of foolish, other ponies rapidly stepped in, the grim looking creatures forming a wall between him and his prey. With his remaining gauntleted leg he smashed into that line with pure fury, slashing and crushing with impunity at the ponies that dared to stand between him and the two ponies that had humiliated him, and now mutilated him! The thirst for revenge was burning in his abdomen and nothing would deter him from it!

“Thirzy! Hey! Thirzy! Up here!”

He halted in his tracks, slashing left and right to force the ponies to back away from him as looked up. It couldn’t be!?

Leyshi, that damned, crazy, irresponsible fool was standing on top of the strange wood building in the center of the pony fort. She was balanced on the edge of the roof, her small spindly form waving her four forelegs in rapid gyration of joy, as if he couldn't smell her pheromones of happiness all the way on the ground.

Fresh anger and near panic completely made Thirza forget the two ponies in front of him for a second as he hissed at high pitch, “Leyshi you silk-brained hatchling! What are you doing up there!? I thought you were captured! I was coming to rescue you and everything!”

“Aww, that’s sweet of you, Thirza, but I managed to rescue myself. It was really exciting! Oh, Thirza, watch out!”

He flinched as some magic ponies flung fire at him and he had to rely on his one remaining gauntlet to cut aside the worst of the magic. The flames still scalded his chitin, however, and with a fierce hiss he noticed that the ponies had dragged away the two ponies he wanted to capture. The wingless white one and gray horned one were carried into the gate of the wooden building, leaving a solid line of eights upon eights of ponies between him and his prey. Curse it all! Leyshi, even when rescuing herself, had the worst timing imaginable!

“For the love of the Queen’s own eggsack! Leyshi, get down here right this instant!” he shouted, pumping out as much displeasure pheromones as he could while he wheeled about, slashing wildly with his gauntlets to clear a space around him, cleanly gutting two ponies that had gotten to close to him.

“Coming, Thirzy!” Leyshi said, bouncing up and down on her legs, and then leaping straight off the roof. Thirza watched in mind numbed terror as his charge fell through the air, and scrambled to make sure she’d land on his back. He grunted as she landed, and winced even more as he heard her cry out in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying not to sound so concerned.

“Owowowow! Oooh, why’d they have to torture my legs so much?” Leyshi whined plaintively. Thirza felt himself shuddering in rage at her words. Torture? The ponies had the barbaric gall to torture one of the brood caste!? What monsters. He could kill eighty eights of them and feel not an ounce of remorse for these worthless surface creatures, who clearly had no sense of civilization or common decency. Chirziane’s plan to turn them into the Aranea’s newest source of food almost felt wrong, if only because could such barbarian’s really be worth eating?

Now that he had Leyshi secured, this posed a conundrum. His orders from Chirziane was to make sure one side or the other one this battle; preferably the ursans. it seemed the remaining ursans on this side of the battle had either fled back through the east wall, or had made the mistake of assuming the Aranea were enemies and had forced Thirza and his hunters to slay them. By his estimate there were still somewhere around two eightys of ponies on this side of the battle, and his three eights of hunters had already done plenty of damage to them. The much larger mass of ursans to the west ought to be able to finish the job, right?

Should he just call his hunters off and get Leyshi to safety? Staying to fight would put her in further danger, but it’d give him a chance to get his revenge upon those ponies that’d so shamed him. Just cutting off the one’s wings wasn’t enough! The gray one had taken his leg!

A bolt from a ponies weapon nearly clipped Leyshi and she let out a small squeaking hiss of fear. Thirza sucked in a breath and let out a long hiss of annoyance.

With a blast of sharp pheromones and a hiss that carried over the sounds of battle Thirza ordered his hunters to retreat. They’d already killed many eights of ponies, so he could easily claim to Chirziane that they’d done their part. If the ursans couldn’t finish the job then they weren’t worth being allied to anyway. With swift steps, faster than the ponies could follow, the hunters turned and skittered away, taking a few parting swipes at the ponies as they went. Spells and crossbow bolts followed them, but Thirza and his hunters were two swift to be caught by the parting shots. The hunters were swift, despite the many that bore severe injuries, leaving trails of blood in their wake as they rapidly leaped and skittered back the way they’d come. In short order the Aranea hunters were crawling over the now empty east wall and scuttling over the dark expanse between the fort and the forest.

“Thirza... your leg...” Leyshi said as the darkness of the forest swallowed them up like a safe web, “I’m sorry I caused you trouble.”

It took him a few moments to respond, “Forget it. Chirziane will scold you later, but at least you’re alive to be scolded. I’ll be shocked if she ever lets you come to the surface again.”

“Oh I hope not! this was so enlightening!”

He couldn’t keep an irritated hiss from escaping him, “Enlightening? You said the ponies tortured you!”

“Yup. It hurt a lot, but I learned a lot too. They’re a fascinating race.”

Thirza decided it was best not to respond to that one. After all, arguing with the insane was usually quite unproductive, and he didn’t want to add to the night’s frustrations.

She didn’t need to see the whole picture to know the battle was going poorly. Poorly, but not unexpectedly. Counter Charge had known, just as Captain Runeward had known, that things would inevitably end up at this point. With Runeward dead and the both sides of the fort breached there was no chance of holding the palisade any longer. She hadn’t been at all surprised to see the remaining companies on the palisade falling back to the fortress grounds, maneuvering to reinforce her and 4th company at the shattered west gate.

Their only chance now lay in an organized, slow retreat across the fortress grounds until they got behind the wall of pitch that had been set up earlier. That pitch surrounded the main keep, and if Counter Charge could keep the remaining companies together enough to fall back behind that line, they could light the pitch to create a wall of fire between them and the ursans. It wouldn’t stop the horde, of course, but it’d slow them down enough for everypony to get inside the keep. From there, they’d make their last stand.

Of course surviving the next few minutes was taking up most of her attention. After leading 4th company on its initial charge to stem the ursan horde she’d been fighting tooth and hoof, her blade and body splattered with ursan gore. She’d lost count of the bears she’d gutted, while still barking sharp orders to keep her company’s line intact. They’d gradually given way to the ursans until the troops from the other companies managed to get down from the palisade and line up in a new formation, a concave semi-circle that absorbed 4th company and held firm against the press of ursans. Hails of crossbow bolts flew straight into charging masses of bears. Boiling spheres of fire and crackling whips of lightning tore gaps in the surging ursan horde. As bears tore into the pony’s line claymores struck out to cut throats or stab into exposed weak points. Yet for every bear felled, two ponies were torn apart or dragged down under ursan jaws, and the ponies kept falling back, step by step, leaving a wake of blood and corpses behind them.

And amid it all Counter Charge had bellowed encouragement, relocated troops where holes opened in her line, and slashed and bucked viciously against any bear that came her way.

Then the ursan Warchief, Ulragnok, took an interest in her.

He’d been ravaging her line, but had not allowed himself to be fully engaged in the battle until he turned his wide bulk towards her and bellowed forth a roaring challenge. Counter Charge wasn’t surprised. As the leader of the ursan horde this bastard would be looking for the biggest challenge on the battlefield to increase his personal honor, and Counter Charge was among the only Legion officers left on the field.

Counter Charge braced herself as she watched Ulragnok barrel headlong into the center of her troops, aimed right for where she’d been leading the retreat. She’d leveled her claymore and slammed it straight into his charging bulk, only for the blade to scrape off the iron plates of his armor and for her body to get battered aside as if she’d tried ramming a stone wall. A stone wall that was moving. She felt her bones rattle and perhaps a rib crack as she rolled aside, barely getting to her hooves in time to slash the throat out of another ursan that tried to bowl her over.

Ulragnok in the meantime had smashed straight into the middle of 4th company’s line, rending with his claws in unbridled fury, tearing ponies apart or sending them flying with impunity.

Counter Charge, shaking the dizziness from her head, grinned and bared her teeth, hooves digging into the cold ground as she galloped after him.

Around her ursans were engaged with numerous ponies. Pegasi churned about in the sky, swiftly flying down to thrust with their spears. Earth ponies rushed in with claymores slashing, and unicorns moved in tight teams of three, sending empowered array spells at any target of opportunity that presented itself. This kept the area around her clear of ursans for a moment, giving her a straight shot at Ulragnok.

Rushing across blood soaked ground Counter Charge reached Ulragnok just as he was lifting his head to snap a pegasus out of the sky with his powerful jaws. She heard the stomach twisting crunch as Ulragnok’s jaw clamped down and crushed the struggling pegasus in a burst of wet gore. As the ursan Warchief spat out the corpse he turned just in time to see Counter Charge’s approach. His left paw struck out, intercepting Counter Charge’s claymore. Claws and steel met in a small shower burst of ember sparks. Counter Charge felt the immense strength and weight of the ursan as he shoved back with his paw and she and her sword were sent flying backwards as if a foal pushed down by a grown adult. She heard the deep, rumbling laugh of the Warchief as he smashed a paw into the ground she’d just occupied, only barely rolling away in time to avoid being turned to red paste.

“Yes, this is what I wanted,” Ulragnok bellowed as Counter Charge got back to her hooves, eyes glinting with determined grit as she aimed her blade at him once again. The ursan growled in pleasure. “This fortress will just be the first. The first conquest in the glory that will be my campaign!”

He surged forward, a dark tidal wave of bristling fur and iron plated armor. Counter Charge tensed to dodge, her muscles screaming at her from the exhaustion of the hours of battle up to this point, but she ignored that as she carefully watched Ulragnok’s movements. A twitch in his shoulder, a tilt of his head, that was all the warning she got before his right paw lashed out in a harsh horizontal arc. She kicked back, claws scraping her armor, tearing out ligaments of the fine Legion chain-mail, and cutting bloody grazes across her blue coated chest. Without stopping she immediately plunged back in while Ulragnok’s swipe still left him unbalanced. Her claymore thrust forward, but Ulragnok managed to turn his shoulder to take the blow. The black iron of his armor sparked as Counter Charge’s claymore scraped along it. Now she was the one who was overbalanced and Ulragnok quickly reversed his earlier attack, smacking Counter Charge across the face with a vicious back-swing.

The world went hazy, her brain going all a jumble as her vision spun. She didn’t even feel herself hit the ground, but blinked and found herself staring at black sky, pegasi warriors spinning through the air as they dove upon the battle. Her head ached, and her jaw felt like a thousand cotton wads had been stuffed into her mouth.

Wondering why she wasn’t dead yet, Counter Charge rolled onto her stomach and tried lifting her head. Her claymore was nearby, its tip planted in the ground where it had landed blade first. But where was Ulragnok!?

She heard his war cry, a towering roar that seemed to tear apart the night and drown out the din of battle between hundreds of ponies and ursans. Counter Charge looked to her right, where the combined line of 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th companies along with the Equestrian recruit company had held firm against the press of ursans, refusing to break under the growing strain of the bear’s assault, and she saw in the center of that Ulragnok still stood... but hadn’t yet been able to smash through the ponies standing against him.

Specifically because it seemed there were a small group of ponies were facing the Warchief down directly. She could only imagine it was their interference that Ulragnok hadn’t had time to finish her off. There were at least a ten legionaries engaged with Ulragnok. Among them Counter Charge recognized Alpine’s swooping form, as well as, to Counter Charge’s surprise, two of the Heartlanders who’d been in Coldiron’s squad. Coco Pommel and Trixie Lulamoon. Coco was leading several earth ponies in slashing away with claymores at Warchief Ulragnok’s flanks while his attempts to slaughter them were being distracted by constant bursts and flashes of smoke and light from the constantly running and ducking Trixie.

The sight of the Warchief so stemmied was making moral among the ponies soar upward and giving pause to the ursans themselves. It was an opportunity to reform broken lines and redouble efforts to fall back behind the line of pitch, which Counter Charge could see was less than ten paces from where the bulk of the remaining Legion forces were holding the ursans back.

Counter Charge got up on swaying hooves and retrieved her claymore. A part of her wanted to rush back into the fight with Ulragnok, but her troops needed guidance. She whispered a silent prayer for the safety of those brave souls still battling the Warcheif, and proceeded to do her job as an officer.

Trixie was for the first time glad of the sheer madness and chaos of battle. Everypony would be too busy fighting to stay alive to notice the tears of fear streaming from her eyes, the rather unheroic way she was constantly swearing under her panting breaths, or the fact that she might have voided her bladder at some point. Tattered self-image aside she thought she was doing well, not being gutted, disemboweled, dismembered, or otherwise fatally and messily ripped from this mortal coil yet. Now if she could only keep things that way!

On reflection, joining Coco on a suicidal charge at the ursans titanic Warchief was probably not the best way to accomplish that goal. Oh well, live and learn. Or not. Not was a high possibility, still, as Trixie discovered as she saw Ulragnok’s claws flashing towards her. Screaming, Trixie ducked and fired off another burst of bright green and purple fireworks, dotting the night with pops and flashes. At this point it seemed all she could do! When she’d tried an actual arcane beam on the Warchief the small (not that small mind you, as if Ponyville’s stupid purple paragon could’ve done better!) magical line of light hadn’t so much as made the monolithic mound of bear flinch. But the Warchief did seem to get distracted easily by her fireworks and dancing lights.

She felt the air pass over her head as the claws narrowly missed her, Ulragnok roaring as her lights blinded him once more. The ponies fighting beside Trixie took advantage, Coco and at least five other earth ponies rushing in with claymores hacking and slashing, while Alpine soared overhead with a few other pegasi, spearing at the bear like foals poking a beehive with sticks. The blades and spears scored hits, yet Ulragnok’s armor or his sheer thick muscled bulk kept any of the wounds from being anything other than superficial. It was like trying to slay a mountain with toothpicks. Trixie had a rather wretched flashback to her debacle in Ponyville.

She’d tried standing against a horribly gigantic bear back then, too, with similar ineffectual results.

Her mind turned towards a terrible thought. She could still cast her invisibility spell and flee from all this...

It seemed so clear they couldn’t kill this Warchief. The other ursans were pressing her fellow ponies badly, and she could see dozens upon dozens of bodies already carpeting the ground like slick red flowers. For every time an ursan was brought down it seemed at least three ponies lost their lives to do it. The screams, the clamour of metal on metal, or the gut churning wet sound of ripping flesh... it all filled the air and penetrated Trixie’s mind.

Why not run? Why not flee and save herself? She didn’t have to die here...

She watched as Coco Pommel reared up on her hind legs. The one-time seamstress' mane was slicked down with blood, some of it her own from a glancing head wound that sent streams of red flowing down her face, joining the blood from the claw marks on her face. Coco’s eyes were fiercely focused, almost wild. Her mouth gripped the hilt of a large claymore blade, veins popped out along her neck as she struggled to wield the massive weapon. Ulragnok had impaled another pony on one of his claws, lifting the stallion into the air and shaking his paw to ripped the poor legionnaire to pieces, entrails spilling across the ground like discarded party streamers. Coco, shouting wordlessly, rushed the Warchief’s grinning head, and aimed a blow straight for his neck.

For a second Trixie thought Coco might be able to end this nightmare then and there.

Ulragnok flicked his paw, sending the corpse of the stallion he’d just slain sailing into one of the pegasi that’d been preparing to dive upon him. He turned his head as he wheeled his body to face Coco, her claymore hitting his skull dead on... and bouncing off. The blade cut flesh, certainly, leaving a gash, but the blade couldn’t penetrate that monster’s thick skull bone. The rebound was so bad the force knocked the claymore out of Coco’s mouth, sending it flying and causing her to stumble back. Trixie watched in horror as Ulragnok’s face turned into a leer and he lifted a paw and slammed it down like a fist, driving Coco into the ground.

Coco’s cry of pain wrenched Trixie’s heart. Fear still gripped her in a clammy, cold embrace that made her limbs feel like blocks of granite, but Trixie forced all of her instincts that were screaming at her to run to the back of her mind. Instead she stood and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Hey! You ugly lout! Trixie demands your attention!”

Ulragnok, she knew, could kill her in an instant. But she had to do something! Otherwise, Coco...everypony...

She could see the Warchief lick his lips, his jaws salivating and dripping with blood from earlier kills. She could easily imagine those jaws clamping down on her throat, crunching down with finality.

“I will kill you in a moment, worthless one with the flashing lights,” he grumbled, and turned a paw towards the fallen Coco, “But first-”

“Trixie said she demands your attention, you incompetent, pathetic, smelly excuse for a bear!” Trixie bellowed, “How could something as garishly moronic as you lead anything outside of an effort scuffing a hole to defecate in!”

Trixie might have been less than a spectacular mage or warrior, but if there was one thing Trixie was certain she could do... it was piss someone off.

Ulragnok’s eye twitch was proof enough of that as he turned his attention away from Coco and turned smoldering eyes towards Trixie, taking a lumbering step forward as a deep growl that made the air vibrate rumbled from his lips.

“What did you say, little pony?”

Trixie put a hoof to her chest, giving a look of mock innocence, “What? I said you are such a idiotic, pea-minded foal that the only thing you could possibly be responsible for is digging the holes your kind do their business in. Hard of hearing? Small brain having difficulty processing Trixie’s sharp wit? Not surprising. Few are a match for Trixie’s scathing words, least of all a giant lump of a bear who would look better as a throw rug than a Warchief. Trixie laughs at how pathetic you are, Ulragnok!”

Trixie also hoped he wasn’t noticing how much her legs were currently shaking or how pale her features were becoming with each step he made towards her. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, Trixie thought over and over as she let yet more insults pour from her mouth to taunt the ursan Warchief. With each step towards her, however, he was taking a step away from the injured Coco, who Trixie could see with relief was still alive and able to move. Coco was looking up, shaking the glazed look from her eyes. Good. Now, if only Trixie could figure out what to do now that she had the Warchief's undivided attention.

With one final, earth shaking step, Ulragnok was face to face with Trixie. His nostrils snorted, blowing back her mane. His dark eyes bored into her, and Trixie’s heart felt as if it would break clean out of her chest in fear, yet she forced a cocky smile on her face as she looked death in its snarling face.

“Your breath is perhaps the only thing about you that Trixie will acknowledge is strong. Do you ursans even know what a toothbrush is?”

Ulragnok’s paw shot out, gripping Trixie around her throat, and most of her upper body. The Warchief rose upward, standing on his hindlegs, raising Trixie into the air like a small azure doll. Incredible pressure squeezed down on Trixie, cutting off breath and bruising flesh. Ulragnok drew Trixie close, raising his other paw to draw a single claw slowly across her brow. His voice was like the an avalanche, and just as without pity.

“What more do you have to say, tiny pony? Other than to scream?”

And Trixie did scream as the claw on her brow began to cut, tearing downward, across her left eye and cheek, ripping a path of blood and pain. She couldn't tell if her eye had been cut or not, but the pain was so intense it was impossible to do more than continue to scream as the claw did its bloody work.

“Where are your jokes, now? Your insults?” Ulragnok asked as his claw finished tearing at the bottom of Trixie’s jaw, having left a ragged, deep gash of red flesh across the magician’s face. His voice turned into a snarl, “Say something, pony, I’ll let you have that. One last word before I tear your intestines out.”

His claw went down to her hanging belly, pressing inward, but not quite puncturing, as he stood there, letting the pressure up on Trixie’s throat just enough so she could speak.

Trixie, blood blinding her, an ocean of hot pain snuffing out her ability to think clearly, looked around her with her remaining good eye.

Coco was standing behind Ulragnok, unarmed, yet already in motion.

The Legion’s battle line had been pressed back well behind where Ulragnok held Trixie, so even if they somehow defeated him, they’d be surrounded by ursans and far from help.

Yet, Trixie felt the fear draining out of her along with her blood.

And, oddly, she saw something coming that nopony else did. Another unicorn, carrying a most unexpected item that the unicorn hurled with skill and force in a telekinetic grip. That item flew through the air in a perfect arc, and Trixie, in her pain dazed stupor, just grinned madly at Ulragnok and said, “...Strike."

A few moments earlier...

Allie Way hid under one of the clinic’s bed’s, hooves covering her flattened ears. She couldn't drown out the noise, the horrific noise, of battle. The roars, the screams, they were unending, and each one felt like another weight landing upon her shoulders.

Coward. She was such a coward! Ponies were dying. All she could do was hide. Ponies were fighting. All she could do was shut her eyes.

She thought of Trixie, Coco, and Blossomforth. They seemed so brave. So strong. They’d fought against those terrible sounding spider monsters, and had returned just to throw themselves into an even worse battle against the ursans. It seemed so crazy that ponies could hold such courage to face those dangers without wanting to run and hide from it all! Why? What kept them from just caving in to fear? Allie Way couldn’t understand it. The fear inside her was so strong she could barely move.

Why was it that other ponies were able to stand and fight while she just cowered and hoped nothing would find her hiding spot?

She let out a small sob, wishing she could just stop hearing the noise. The screams...

...one scream cut through the others,and made Allie Way raise her head.

That voice! That was Trixie!

Allie Way blinked, tears streaming down her face. Trixie’s scream echoed in her head, rang all the way down to her soul. Words flashed up from memory, blazing through her like a brush fire. Blossomforth’s voice, and Trixie’s, and Coco’s...

“Trixie can’t deny it will be hard, and frightening. However, Trixie believes that if we let ourselves think too much about how bad things might be, that will just make it more certain the worst will happen.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in being scared. We all feel the same way. That’s why you’ll be fine out there. You got us to watch your back. You freeze up; I’ll swoop in and snap you out of it. You just got to promise to do the same for any of us, right?”

Allie Way’s face went still, her tears seeming to halt like a freshly damned stream. The fear was still wrapped around her like an icy set of chains, but they were no longer keeping her bolted to the ground. Her world had shrunken to a moment of focus upon a single fact; she had to save her friends!

In an instant her eyes scanned the clinic. Much had been taken in the rush to relocate the medical ward to the main keep, but certain non-essential items had been left behind on the shelves or tucked into corners. One of those items was a ball, about the size of a pony’s head, and perfectly round, bound up in leather. Allie Way had seen medicine balls before. They were used for exercise by athletes back home, or physical therapy for those looking to recover their strength after an injury. She supposed the Legion clinic had one for the purpose of strength training soldiers who’d been bedridden for awhile.

Regardless of why it was there, the medicine ball happened to be shaped and sized almost exactly like a bowling ball.

Well, all I’ve ever wanted to do was bowl... Allie Way thought as she picked up the medicine ball with her magic, and turned towards the door of the clinic, So let’s bowl.

When she got outside she could see the battle had moved ahead of the clinic, leaving her just a little behind the main line of ursans. The bears were so focused on the battle that none were looking towards the seemingly abandoned buildings along the palisade, nor at all Allie Way.

She saw Trixie. The blue unicorn was being held up by the most colossal ursan Allie Way had laid eyes on, his bulk covered in iron plated armor. He was choking Trixie, and cutting the mare’s face with one free claw.

There was nothing between Allie Way and them.

Despite the cold fear still trying to claw its way around her heart, Allie Way focused, taking a deep breath just like she did when at the bowling alley. This wasn’t like any shot she’d ever made in her life. The pin was a lot bigger, for one. She was also aiming to smash the top of it, not the bottom, but hey, bowling was her specialty, and she had never feared when it came to following her special talent.

Allie Way charged, getting a good gallop up as she began to spin the ball in her magical grip. She needed to get the right spin on the ball to get it to go where she wanted. Important bowling tip.

In her mind the battlefield of blood and death faded away, so that she was back home in Ponyville, at Paradise Bowl, just her, a clear alley, and the pins. She’d never felt calmer or more certain about a shot as she reached the sweet spot to release. She hurled the ball, putting a final spin on it with as much magic as she could channel through her horn.

It sailed through the air, a perfect curving arc.

The twenty five pound medicine ball smashed right atop Warchief Ulragnok’s head with a sound like a ringing bell; coincidentally right atop the same spot Coco’s blade had struck earlier.

Allie Way stood there, now realizing that a number of ursans were now noticing her and turning away from the battle towards the few ponies who’d stayed behind to fight their Warchief, but she suddenly wasn’t scared. She just felt oddly satisfied as she said, “...Strike...”

Ulragnok’s eyes crossed as the ball thrown by Allie Way smacked into it and bounced off, leaving a slight indent in the ursan’s cranium. Trixie felt the paw around her neck slacken its grip and she fell nearly ten feet to the ground, the fall hard enough to blast the air from her lungs.

As she desperately caught her breath she could see Ulragnok teetering on his hind legs, like a tree swaying in the wind. Yet he hadn’t fallen, his eyes just blinking stupidly.

However there was another pony to help with knocking that tree over; Coco Pommel.

The seamstress charged directly at the ursan Warchief’s backside, and spinning around, planted her forehooves on the ground and drew back her hindlegs. Coco bucked for all she was worth... straight into the back end of Ulragnok’s groin.

Even Trixie winced slightly at the sight.

Ulragnok was shaken out of his stunned state only to howl at the sky in pain, and Trixie watched as he fell to the side very much like a crumbling tower, paws clutching between his hind legs. Trixie, despite the pain burrowing through her face, managed to stand and laugh.

“Trixie thinks perhaps there shall not be any mini-Warchief’s gracing the realm for sometime. Such a shame...hehe...ow...owowow...”

“Trixie!” Coco cried, galloping up to her, “Dear Celestia, your face! Are you alright!?”

“N-never mind that! Trixie’s face is the least of her concerns! There are larger, bear oriented things to worry about at the moment.” Trixie, breathing hard, voice raspy as she pointed at the score or so of ursans that had broken away from the fighting to advance towards them. Though the ursans seemed hesitant, having seen their leader fall, there were just three little ponies standing before them, cut off from the support of the rest of the Legion. Easy kills, despite the luck they’d had with the Warchief, who was still groaning on the ground and clutching at his... bear necessities.

Coco looked at the approaching ursans, backing away a step, “Oh, um... this is a pickle, isn’t it?”

Her battle fury seemed to had finally played out, leaving behind a tired, alarmed looking young former seamstress. Trixie looked over at Allie Way. The other unicorn quickly trotted up, her long neck turning left and right as her eyes got ever wider. Allie Way’s calm focus was rapidly dissipating and her fear quickly returning.

“What do we do?” Allie Way asked, anguish on her face, “I wanted to save you, but...”

Trixie gulped, thinking of the only idea that seemed left to her. She knew now she couldn’t abandon any of these ponies. Not Coco or Allie Way, and not Blossomforth or Coldiron. Live or die, they were doing this together. Taking a deep breath, wiping blood from her face, ignoring the urge to scream from the pain of the wound there, she said, “Stay close to Trixie and grab her shoulder, or tail, or anything. Just stay in contact with Trixie. Hurry!”

Coco and Allie Way shared confused glances but obeyed, Coco placing a hoof on Trixie’s back and Allie Way going to Trixie’s other side to do the same. Trixie then closed her eyes and channeled her magic through her horn, creating a fast burst of violet light. The ursans were now mere steps away from them... but the mares vanished from sight in a puff of blue smoke that billowed out like a fog cloud.

From that smoke Trixie trotted at a swift canter, Allie Way and Coco at her sides. The mares could not be seen by the naked eye, however, for Trixie was channeling her invisibility spell, covering all three of them in a sheet of reflective, bending light. It wasn’t perfect. Covering three ponies was difficult for Trixie, and having to move made the illusion spell even harder to maintain. The air shimmered as the moved, like a ripple over still water. But it was better than nothing, and for the moment it seemed to fool the ursans.

Now if they could just get back to the Legion’s lines before Trixie ran out of magic...

Counter Charge hadn’t been able to believe her eyes when she saw the Warchief fall. Dead or not didn’t matter much, it shook the ursans enough to allow her to finally order a full retreat without risking losing her entire force. Line by leapfrogging line the Legion companies pulled back from their ursan foes, earth ponies firing the last of their crossbows from emptying cases, and unicorns pouring the last of their mana into final explosive spells to smash their enemy’s line back.

Counter Charge let out a massive breath of relief as she smelled the sharp scent of the pitch under her hooves and waited with stressed eyes as she watched her ponies fall back behind that line of soon to be deadly ground one by one.

When the last of 4th company got behind the pitch line she turned, seeing Alpine landing beside her. The pegasus’ green coat was covered in wounds and her wings flagged with exhaustion.

“Is this everypony?” Counter Charge asked.

“Can’t rightly say, Sarge,” said Alpine, “The Heartlanders are all accounted for, mostly, and I didn’t see anypony lagging out there... only..”

“Only?”

Alpine bit her lip, looking towards the ursan horde, which was regrouping around their Warchief. Ulragnok had finally recovered from the blows delivered to him, and Counter Charge could see his form stalking (with a satisfying limp in his hindquarters) around the front of his horde.

“Those crazy Heartlanders that knocked that big bastard for a loop... I lost sight of them,” Alpine said, “I had to pull back from that brawl and dammit I lost sight of them! I don’t know where they’re at. I didn’t see their bodies anywhere, but...”

Counter Chare, heart heavy, nodded, “But they could have easily been torn to shreds while you weren’t looking. They bought us time. If we can find their bodies at the end of this, if we’re alive, we’ll bury them with honor.”

Alpine’s wings drooped even further, “Here’s hoping they managed to make a run for it.”

“That’d technically be desertion.”

“Buck it, I’m not gonna judge at this point. We’re pretty screwed, one way or another,” said Alpine, and Counter Charge decided not to argue the point. With a grave sigh Counter Charge turned to her friend.

“Light the pitch.”

While it’d felt good to save Trixie with a moment of clarity, and she certainly didn’t regret leaving her hiding place in the clinic, Allie Way was still freshly terrified as they hurried across the open space between the regrouping ursan horde and the reforming lines of the Legion. There was easily fifty paces between the two forces now, the bears occupying the walls and gate and massing for what would no doubt be a final charge to smash the ponies apart.

Ahead of the invisible mares the Legion’s companies, tattered and battered as they were, had begun to file back towards the wooden center keep, maintaining a defensive line formation.

“Almost.. almost... almost...” Allie Way could hear Trixie saying, despite not being able to see the other mare. Allie Way kept her hoof firmly placed on Trixie’s back, and could feel Coco’s hoof there as well. Coco’s hoof even gripped hers encouragingly, and Allie Way smiled, despite knowing Coco couldn’t see it.

Then she smelled something.

“What is that?” she asked.

“What’s what?” asked Trixie.

“I smell it too,” said Coco, “It’s...oh no! Trixie, Allie, RUN!”

“Wha-?” Trixie got out, then Allie Way saw a burst of fire launched from the Legion line, a single small fire spell that arced through the dark, snowy night... and landed about twenty paces to their left, igniting the pitch the three mares were walking over.

The invisibility snapped off instantly as Trixie dispelled it, gasping in shock and fear as the fire spread like a river towards them. All three mares broke into a full gallop, running for their lives. The fire blazed towards them with terrible speed. Allie Way’s heart hammered against her rib cage.

Then she tripped. She fell face first in the pitch, tasting its slick taste in her mouth. She rolled over, saw the flames licking towards her, and screamed.

Then hooves grabbed her and hauled her away, throwing her from the path of the fire. She heard another pony hiss in pain, and looked up to see Coco’s face wrenched in pain. The mare’s right side was seared red with fresh burns, but the wall of fire now blazed behind them, Coco having dragged Allie Way free just in time to keep the unicorn from burning alive.

Nearby Trixie sat on her haunches, panting, and looking at Allie Way and Coco with fresh worry. Coco set Allie Way down and stood there shaking, smoke still trailing from her burns. Allie Way stared at her, unable to even mouth the ‘thank you’ she desperately wanted to, just too drained and shocked to say anything.

“Coco...” Trixie said, eyes taking in Coco’s burns with a fearful glance, “Are you...?”

“Alright?” Coco said through clenched teeth, “Ask me again... in the morning.”

Suddenly a pegasus landed next to the, Alpine. She was shouting for more Legion soldiers, who came rushing up to the injured mares.

“Get these three inside the keep and to Quick Needle’s medical ward at once!” Alpine was ordering, and before Allie Way knew it she was being born alone with Trixie and Coco on the shoulders of strong legionnaire shoulders, being taken away from the fire and the blood of this terrible night and into the open gates of the keep... to what little safety or salvation might lay within.

It was almost over. Coldiron knew that much. From the words she’d picked up listening to the legionnaires entering the keep she could put together a picture of the shape the battle had taken. They’d lost the walls. They’d fought across the fortress grounds. The pitch had been lit, keeping the ursans back, if only for a few minutes. Now... now they were all huddled inside the wooden walls of Beartrap Fortress’ center keep, awaiting the horde’s final charge. There was nowhere left to retreat. No more fall back plans. This keep would be their last stand.

Coldiron herself felt frustrated beyond belief. She’d used not just the last of her magic to fight back that giant Lurker, but she’d over channeled, pushed her horn beyond its limits. The crack down the center of her horn shot a constant stream of pain into her skull, a headache to end all headaches. It wasn’t fatal, and if she had a month or two to recover her horn would eventually heal itself, though it was up in the air if she’d ever be able to channel magic the same way again.

But that wouldn’t matter soon, since it seemed likely they were all going to die here.

She looked over to her right where her father lay on the ground. They were in a hallway inside the keep, one of several given over for the wounded. Quick Needle was moving about relentlessly with his small staff of medics, working without rest to get even one more soldier back on their hooves and into the fight.

He’d worked briefly on Solid Plough, but Coldiron had seen the look in Quick Needle’s eyes as he’d bandaged her father and soon moved on to another pony. Her father’s wounds were too severe to warrant further work than needed to make the old stallion comfortable. Had this not been a desperate battle, where Quick Needle needed to do everything he could to get fighting ponies back into the battle, then perhaps he could have done more... but why spend hours trying to heal a wounded pony who wouldn’t be able to fight? Who’d need weeks to recover?

No, Solid Plough’s wounds might not have been instantly fatal, but he was just as dead as any of them without more intensive medical care... care Quick Needle couldn't afford to give right now. So Coldiron sat there, her horn useless, as she watched her father draw in shallow breaths, his body slick with sweat, still unconscious. Perhaps that was for the best.

There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much she needed to get off her chest. But maybe now, at the end, it was better just to let it all be left buried. She didn’t want her final memory of her father, or his of her, to be another argument.

“Sis...?” she looked up as she heard the voice of one of her brothers, and say Haybale and Hoedown approaching down the line of wounded ponies. They were both carrying spears.

She sighed, “You’re going to fight?”

Hoedown nodded his small head. He’d just had his eleventh summer. The spear looked horribly unbalanced in his gangly colt limbs. “Of course! We gotta fight now, if the bears are comin’! Father wouldn’t want us sitting around like scared little fillies!”

Haybale, older than Hoedown by two years, looked less sure of himself, “A lot of us remaining Arrow Vale folk are taking whatever weapons we can and gettin’ ready for... for what’s coming. Ain’t no point just sitting and waiting for the ursans to come to us.”

Coldiron nodded, closing her eyes to hold back a forming wetness in her eyes, “That’s... very brave of you. Father would be proud.”

“You gonna fight too, sis, or just sit around here?”

“I just woke up,” she said, “I was going to ask for my dagger, then find a spot at the main door. That’s where the last line of defense is.”

Haybale gave her a solemn look, young eyes swimming, “Guess we’ll see you there, then, sis.”

“Yes,” she replied, watching the two young colts trot off after giving their father parting hugs, even if he wasn’t conscious to feel them. She soon rose herself, swaying a bit on her hooves.

Looking among the wounded she noticed one missing. Blossomforth was nowhere to be seen. Somehow that didn’t surprise Coldiron one bit and she suspected she knew exactly where the pegasus had gone off to. With a rueful, pained smile, Coldiron went to find a weapon to arm herself with.

The main hall of the keep was wide enough that fifty ponies could stand shoulder to shoulder across its forty pace keep hall. Wood pillars held up the roof, all bearing torches that lit the hall with flickering lights. Legion ponies, the remains of the 4th and 3rd companies mostly, formed a solid block here behind overturned barrels or crates as rough barricades. A number of Heartlanders were also here, through by this point the companies had been spread out to various defensive points around the keep.

Trixie, Coco, and Allie Way were here, shoulder to shoulder with their fellow legionnaires. They were all freshly bandaged, the worst of their wounds briefly seen to by the medics before they’d all agreed to come to the main gate for the last ditch defense. Trixie’s face was wrapped in bandages, covering her left eye. Coco’s burns were similarly wrapped up, through the mare grimaced with each movement.

When a certain white pegasus popped up next to the mares, Trixie stared at her wide-eye.

“Heya,” said Blossomforth, face pale, eyes sunken, but her voice no less cheerful, “I miss anything with you guys?”

“Blossomforth? What... happened to you?” Trixie asked, staring at Blossomforth’s back.

Blossomforth let out a strained chuckle and wiggled the nubs on her back. They were bandaged, though the bandages showed red spots where blood had seeped through, “Oh, these? Heh, funny story that. Turns out that the Lurker weight loss program is way more extreme than I thought when I signed up for it. Do not recommend it to others.”

Trixie’s lips quivered and tears welled in her eyes, “No... don’t joke about this... Trixie won’t let this...”

She suddenly threw her forelimbs around Blossomforth, hugging the pegasus close.

“Trixie swears if we live through this she will find a way to get them back for you! Trixie swears it on everything above and beneath Celestia’s sun and Luna’s moon!”

Blossomforth smiled sadly, patting Trixie’s back and returning the hug, “Geeze, you’re melodramatic.”

Coco shook her head in wonderment, “You are something else, Miss Blossomforth.”

Allie Way just nodded agreement, then another voice joined in.

“She is at that. She saved my life.”

Everypony looked over as Coldiron emerged from the moving groups of legionnaires still taking up position or working on barricades. The gray unicorn looked almost as pale as Blossomforth, and Trixie noticed with a shocked gasp the other mare’s cracked horn. Coldiron was fast to hold out a hoof and put on a stern look.

“Hug me and I’ll punch you.”

Trixie scoffed, wiping at her face to get ride of her tears and said in a haughty tone, “Trixie wasn’t planning to!”

“Good. So...” Coldiron joined the group, looking around. She had a dagger sheathed at her side, but no other weapons, “I suppose this is as good a spot as any for a valiant final stand.”

“Rather it be the spot of our awesomely won victory,” said Blossomforth.

“I’d settle for a draw where everypony goes home and eats cake,” muttered Coco.

“I volunteer for that option,” said Allie Way, raising a hoof, “Can we do that one?”

A massive slam on the main gates that shook the building and caused dust to rain down from the rafters caused every legionnaire to ready their weapons and the five mares to look at each other gravely.

“Guess its time,” said Coco.

They each readied weapons, even Trixie, who was so low on magic she had to draw her own dagger in a weak levitation field. Coco had scavenged a spear from somewhere, and Allie Way was floating a set of pots and pans next to her taken from the keep’s scullery. Again the keep’s main gate shuddered under a hammer blow, then another, splintering wood. Roaring could be heard from outside.

Trixie knew there were some ponies on the second floor the keep, firing down at the ursans no doubt, but it’d be a trickle compared to what they’d been able to throw at the ursans before, and wouldn’t stop the bears smashing at the gate. Likely this same scene was playing out at the keeps other doors, the few hundred remaining Legion ponies readying to do final, bloody battle through every hallway of the keep, even as the ursans would be tearing it down around them.

Looking to her left and right at the faces of the mares at her side, Trixie wondered how she could ever have considered fleeing from this. Perhaps she was not destined to be a great hero, or a great mage, or a great... anything. But here, now, with these mares, she imagined she could be something better; a good friend.

Sometimes that takes more courage than facing an Ursa Majors. Or Minor, if one believed that purple know-it-all. Really, Trixie’s only regret was that she’d never get to have a chance to surpass that pony...

Minutes passed, and the door began to buckle under the blows assaulting it...

...Then another minute passed and the blows slackened. Then stopped.

Confusion rose among the Legion ponies, who exchanged numerous raised eyebrows or questioning looks with one another. Then a new noise could be heard emanating from the dark night beyond the door. A noise that wasn’t ursan warcries. No, this sound was artificial, and clear as it cut through the depths of the night.

A horn. Not just one, but many, all carrying a loud, challenging note.

Trixie’s confusion only mounted as the native Legion ponies all gained a fresh aura of excitement, the entire line in the keep’s hall coming alive with buzzing jubilation.

“It can’t be...” Coldiron said, eyes wide, “Those horns! That’s-”

“Reinforcements!” somepony cried out.

“The warhorns of Skywoad Keep!”

“Could they have gotten here so fast!?”

“Somepony get a spyglass to the roof! We need to see what’s happening out there!”

The entire hall burst into motion as legionnaires rushed, some towards the hallways that’d lead to stairs to the keep’s roof, others rushed the doors themselves. Only the bellowing orders of Counter Charge kept some order among the Legion ponies.

“Settle down damn you! We don’t know for sure what’s happening out there! I need three volunteer squads up here! We’ll take a peek, but be ready to push back any of those damned bears!”

Trixie shared a quick look with her friends to see confirming looks in turn, and all five of them went forward to volunteer themselves. In short order they along with two more squads of Legion ponies were with Counter Charge at the front gate, which had nearly been ready to burst apart under the beating it’d been taking. Counter Charge, looking grave, and carrying her claymore firmly in her mouth, nodded for one of the unicorns to open the gate.

It opened a crack, letting in the cold night air. Then, slowly, it opened wider.

Beyond it Trixie could see retreating ursans, the bears pulling back reluctantly but without stop towards the west gate.

What was forcing them back took Trixie’s breath away.

It was a fresh Legion army, and not merely the size of the small regiment that’d been stationed at Beartrap Fortress. It was a force of at least a thousand ponies, if not more, moving in vast, tight block formations. Their dark armor blended with the night and their flags billowed in the snow flecked breeze. Crossbow bolts fell like rain from hundreds of earth ponies firing in unison, while hurling balls of flame arced red trails through the black night and landed with sorcerous fury amid the retreating ursans.

This new Legion force had marched right through the south gate of the fortress and pushed the ursans from the main keep, and were now chasing the retreating ursans back through the smashed west gate and onto the hill towards the river. It seemed impossible, but the truth of it was there plain for Trixie to see.

Beside her, Coldiron let out a breath and sat down, “That’s three of the regiments from Skywoad Keep. I recognize the pendants they’re flying. By Terrato’s breath how did they get here so fast?”

Counter Charge, not far away, watched the drastically turned battle with naked relief on her face, “Not as fast as all that. Look.”

She was pointing upward, and Trixie glanced at the sky. A sky that was starting to get lighter and lighter with each passing minute.

“Its morning...” Counter Charge said, laughing.

And so it was. As the hour of dawn arrived on the ruins of Beartrap Fortress, the smoke and blood of the battlefield was lifted away by a fresh east wind that seemed to follow the rays of the sun’s first light. That light illuminated a night of blood, of loss. But it also illuminated what had been a night of courage, strength, and the will of ponies who had not broken in the face of the impossible.

Dawn’s light cast its grace over the fresh Legion regiments that had forced marched without rest for days from Skywoad Keep to reach their brethren in Beartrap Fortress. That light chased the ursans as they fled, tired, confused, and frustrated, back across the Bearbones river and to their deep mountain forests. Somewhere amid that horde Ulragnok stood, watching his braves flee ponies, and the ursan Warchief let out a mournful roar at the opposite end of the river before turning his back and skulked back into the treeline.

And, finally, those warm, welcoming first strands of sunlight illuminated a group of mares who were injured, battered, bloody, and exhausted beyond belief. They each would bear scars from this battle that would last their lifetimes, some on their bodies, other scars deeper beneath the flesh... but each of them was alive.

For Trixie Lulamoon, Coco Pommel, Blossomforth, Coldiron, and Allie Way, that miracle alone was enough to share a joyous laugh among themselves as they basked in the blessed gift of a new day.

Author's Note

I will say this about doing big battle sequences; as fun as they can be to write they are also a massive headache! So many characters and actions to keep track of. This chapter turned out much larger than I thought it would initially, but I chalk that up to me underestimating just how many pieces I was needing to move around the board to bring it to a close.

With the Battle of Beartrap Fortress over its now time for recovery, cleanup, and for the mares to take stock of themselves. Then what comes next? Well, the reward for a job well done is usually another job; doubly true in the Legion. Next time, the penultimate chapter before the epilogue; "Aftermath" As always comments, critiques, and questions are all welcome. 'Till next time!

Chapter 13: Aftermath

Chapter 13: Aftermath

A crimson sunset burned the horizon upon the onset of evening the day after the Battle of Beartrap Fortress. The cloying scent of smoke and blood remained lingering in the air like a spectral aura. Trixie did her best to put it from her mind, but it was a losing proposition given her present task. She tried hard not to look at the face of the corpse she was helping move to the grounds north of the fort where the dead were being gathered. The cold, dead weight in her hooves unnerved Trixie, and her peripheral vision could still catch sight of the face of the mare she carried; what was left of it anyway. Keeping her lunch down was a battle she'd lost within the first hour of moving bodies.

The field to the north was already filled with hundreds of bodies, lined up in neat rows no different than the paths of a tilled field. It made Trixie shudder to see just how many had lost their lives the previous night. Well, half see. There was an opaque blur that frosted the remaining vision of her left eye. Trixie tried hard to ignore it as she worked.

A Legion mare directed Trixie towards the end of the latest row, and Trixie watched as other soldiers marched among the dead, checking the identify the slain and to make notes. The business of tallying and getting headcounts on the dead had been taking most the day, and while the fresh legionnaires from Skywoad Keep had been doing their part to help the troops from Beartrap Fortress seemed to prefer doing the task themselves. Once all the dead were accounted for the process would begin of either preparing bodies to be sent to their respective hometowns for burial or burying the ones who had listed no such preference on their recruitment papers on the fort’s own graveyard.

Trixie hadn't really been given a choice on whether she wanted to do it or not, orders being orders. So far she’d kept her lunch down while doing her part in the grisly affair, through just barely. Setting the poor, dead mare’s body down Trixie wiped sweat off her brow. Right behind her Coco Pommel had been carrying another body, a larger stallion who’d lost a leg, and clearly hadn’t gotten medical help in time to avoid bleeding out. Coco set the body down with careful gentleness.

“There’s so many,” Trixie said, shaking her head, “Trixie knows we are lucky to have survived but... there’s so many dead.”

Coco took a deep breath and nodded, “There would have been more had we not been here to stop the ursans. Many more, in who knows how many defenseless villages, had those things been allowed to roam free without challenge.”

“Trixie understands that. Yet Trixie also wonders; will this ever change?”

Coco cocked her head, giving Trixie a curious glance as the two mares started trotting back towards the fortress, where there were still dead to be gathered. There was a fresh encampment outside the west gate, several hundred tents arranged around the walls, flying the pendants and banners of the Legion. The ponies of Skywoad Keep had formed a new defensive perimeter along the river, fortifying new trenches along the banks. In the sky the distant dots of pegasi scout squadrons could be seen watching over the forests to the west, keeping an eye out for further ursan movements.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” said Coco.

“Trixie means that battles like this must have happened many times in the past. For many, many centuries, if what the Legion ponies say is true. So Trixie wonders if it’s even possible to ‘win’ the war. When does this-” she raised a hoof and gestured back at the field of corpses, “-end?”

Coco’s eyes flicked down to the ground, then off to the west with a hard set coming over the former seamstresses jaw that reminded Trixie of the look she’d seen on many of the native Barrier Lands ponies.

“It might never end, Trixie. Not until Equestria has no more enemies to fight.”

Trixie blew out a neighing sigh, “You’ve certainly gone native, haven’t you?”

“And you haven’t?”

Trixie blinked, then frowned. She’d just spent most the day carrying dead bodies around, and she hadn’t thrown up, and wasn’t so much disturbed as she was just tired and a tad numb.

“Trixie perhaps has... acclimated somewhat to her new circumstances. However, Trixie will gladly say goodbye to the Legion the moment her tour of duty is up and say good riddance as well! This is not the lifestyle for such as Trixie.”

This earned a small, relaxed laugh from Coco, “Acclimated somewhat? You faced down an ursan Warchief. I’d say you’ve more than acclimated.”

Trixie ignored the heat coloring her cheeks as she looked away, snout turning up, “Trixie wishes she’d been able to do such without having her face turned into a cutting board!”

Her face was, in fact, sporting a rather impressively large scar from Warcheif Ulragnok’s claw. The fresh pink flesh remained a furrowed tear across the showmare’s features, starting at her brow and running in a ragged valley of damaged hide all the way past her eye and curving down her jaw. She’d been told by the medics, including a frowning Quick Needle, that she was lucky to have not lost her eye in the process, but the damage was still severe and magic had not been able to fix everything. Trixie’s left eye was now a milky white color, faded and dull. All Trixie could see when she tired to look out of that eye alone was indistinct, faded forms.

Coco wasn’t any better off. In fact her injuries were worse, by Trixie’s estimation. Coco also had fresh scars on her face. Though shallower, there were three such marks across her muzzle, like the stripes of a zebra. Worse were the burn marks on her flanks and barrel. While healing magic had taken care off the worst of the burns there would always be a distortion to her coat in those places where fur couldn’t properly regrow. Most of that was covered by her uniform and armor, but Trixie could still see a few flecks of scarred skin on Coco’s neck from when the mare had dragged Allie Way from the flames of the pitch in that last desperate escape from the ursan lines.

“Well, I’m glad you stepped in when you did, otherwise I would’ve been a goner,” said Coco, shaking her head with a rueful look, “I just wish we’d been able to finish the job. That Warchief is still out there, somewhere.”

“The way Trixie hears it with half the horde dead or injured that the ursans can’t afford to launch another direct attack anytime soon.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather not bet our lives on that,” replied Coco, “They could come back when we least expect it. Then there’s the other problem out there.”

Trixie’s expression darkened, “The Lurkers.”

Trixie could understand Coco’s dislike for the ursans because she now felt the same about the Lurkers. She’d heard the full tale from Coldiron about how Blossomforth lost her wings; that it happened while protecting Coldiron, and it’d been the same giant Lurker from Arrow Vale that had done it. Trixie felt her teeth grinding and her forced herself to take a calming breath.

“We shall figure out a way to deal with them in due time, Trixie suspects,” she said as they crossed the fortress central yard, beginning to search for any remaining bodies that needed gathering. There were at least several dozen other ponies working at the same task while others were hard at work repairing damage to the fort itself, the sound of sawing and hammering echoing through the cooling air. There was a fresh dusting of snow on the ground from the previous night, but the clouds had moved on, leaving the sky almost entirely frost blue, bleeding to purple with the coming evening. The air was chill and nipped at Trixie’s coat, but she wasn’t inclined to complain. She’d spent hours now looking at what the alternative could have been, and Trixie was, quite frankly, thankful to still count herself among the living.

She was also grateful that the few friends she’d managed to make had pulled through as well, though at that thought a hard stab of guilt tore through her. Her friends may have made it through the battle alive, but alive wasn’t the same as intact.

“Ow! Hey! That’s... that’s really sensitive!” Blossomforth said, face screwing up a bit as Quick Needle replaced the bandages on the stumps where her wings used to be. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked over her shoulder at them, the small little fleshy nubs wiggling reflexively and making her want to shudder all the more. Despite her complaints there was surprisingly little pain. Apparently the Lurker’s blades had made clean cuts, if nothing else. No infection had set in and the wounds were healing cleanly.

Not much of a consolation by Blossomforth's reckoning but she'd take what she could get. The only thing worse than losing her wings would be dying slowly of infection afterward. Got to look at the silver linings, right?

Quick Needle gave her a look that for a moment was hard as the medical pony’s face ever was, but Blossomforth saw the way his eyes softened despite his cold visage, “You’re lucky infection didn’t set in. The nerves will be raw for some time, but I need you to make sure these bandages stay cleaned and changed regularly until the wounds scab over properly. Just because they didn’t infect yet doesn’t mean they still can’t, and you don’t want to know how bad that could get.”

“Okay, okay, you’re the doc. So, don’t suppose you Legion types ever invented some kind of awesome magic wing prosthetic?”

Quick Needles dry, flat look answered that question well enough and Blossmforth blew out a sigh, laying back down on the bed she’d been stretched out on while Quick Needle had checked her. “Guess it could’ve been worse. Plenty of things I can do without wings. Walk. Eat. Walk some more. Open doors. Pour milk into cereal. Just gotta... gotta keep a positive attitude, right?”

She wished her voice didn’t have to sound so damned forced in its cheer. She was used to being able to keep her spirits up, especially because it helped her keep others spirit's up. It was new to her to be the one who felt like getting a genuine smile up was beyond possible. She knew she should just be happy to be alive after the night she’d survived! Yet... yet...

Those nubs on her back twitched and she grimaced.

Quick Needle’s voice was shockingly gentle. “I am sorry, Blossomforth. I can only pretend to grasp what kind of loss this is for you. As a unicorn I can try to imagine what losing my horn would be like and, well, I sympathize.”

He had an awkward look on his face, eyes looking away from hers. She worked up a smile, giving him a soft punch on the arm. “See? Bedside manner isn’t so hard, is it?”

Quick Needle snorted with indignation, though Blossomforth saw his lips quirk slightly in what might’ve been a ghost of a smile. “Don’t get used to it. I’m paid to put ponies back together, not be their morale officer. I’m just sorry there’s nothing more I can do to put you more back together.”

His eyes twitched, glancing down the long aisle of other beds with patients in them, specifically towards the far end where Blossomforth could see an older earth pony stallion was laying in bed. His coat was slick with sweat and his breathing seemed shallow even from a distance,and Blossomforth recognized that the mare sitting next to the bed, watching over the stallion, was Coldiorn.

“I wish there’s more I could do for a lot of ponies,” Quick Needle whispered, so low that Blossomforth didn’t think he knew he’d spoken. She frowned.

“Is he going to pull through?”

Quick Needle glanced back at her, and his face became its normal, stoic hardness once more, “It’s no longer in my hooves. I’ve done all I can.”

He left it at that and Blossomforth found herself looking towards Coldiron. The short, gray unicorn was staring down at her father, watching over him, and seeming not to notice anything of the world around her. Blossomforth wanted to go to her, but feared it’d just be intruding on something more personal than she could really understand. Somehow the loss of her wings felt much lighter compared to what Coldiron could lose very soon.

“In any case,” Quick Needle said, “You’re as fit as you can be, given the circumstances. I can probably tell Sergeant Counter Charge that you’re clear for light physical duty.”

“Good. Last thing I need is to stay cooped up. Um, hey, question; with me being the way I am now what am I going to do? I mean, in terms of the Legion? I can’t exactly fight anymore alongside the other pegasi.”

For a moment Quick Needle looked thoughtful, his narrow brow creasing, “That is actually a rather good question. For us of the Barrier Lands a commitment to the Legion is for life, so even if one suffers a crippling injury one still serves the Legion in some capacity. Usually something in logistics. In your case, I don’t know. You’re the first Heartlander I know of that’s suffered such an injury in service to the Legion. I imagine it may be debated among higher authorities just what is to be done with you. You may be given leave to return home. You may not. At worst I’d expect you’d be placed in some manner of support role for the rest of your four years with us. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Strangely enough when she thought about it Blossomforth wasn’t certain which outcome she’d prefer. After all at home all she’d have to look forward to would be trying to figure out what to do with her life without wings. At least as long as she stayed with the Legion she could still be with the friends she’d made here, and maybe find some way to help them out.

Counter Charge didn’t feel right using Runeward’s old command office, but it’d been decided that she was the senior ranking officer among the surviving Sergeants at Beartrap Fortress, and the office had been ceded to her. She suppressed a shudder, thinking of all the empty seats there’d been at that meeting, only her and two other Sergeants still left. Both 1st and 3rd company’s Sergeants had fallen, and more than half the corporals were gone as well.

She sat at Runeward’s desk, feeling a cold sense as if the old stallion’s ghost was hovering over her. Across from the desk sat a tall, hardy looking earth pony mare whose coat was a deep, dark brown, and whose short cropped mane was as yellow as cornflowers. The lapels of her uniform showed the insignia of a Captain, and the marks of Skywoad Keep’s 4th regiment.

“All told,” Counter Charge began, her mouth dry, “we lost over four hundred ponies. Casualties were spread out pretty evenly, but 1st and 4th company’s got hit the hardest, with the 1st all but gutted with only twenty two survivors. The Arrow Vale volunteers didn’t fare any better. Worse, if possible, with I think perhaps forty survivors between their two companies. The mayor of Arrow Vale, Straight Lace, died of his injuries this morning.”

The brown mare nodded at Counter Charges words, face grim yet firm with respect. Her voice was a rich, deep tone that reminded Counter Charge of a violin. “You folks had one hell of a night, that's the truth. To be honest with you, Sergeant, neither me nor my boys and girls expected to find any of you Beartrap Fortress ponies still living and kicking by the time we got here. We’d hoped, but weren’t expecting it.”

“Still curious just how you all got here so fast, Captain Earthworks. None of us thought we’d see reinforcements from Skywoad Keep for at least three or four days at the earliest. Not that I’m complaining, just wondering how you pulled it off.”

Captain Earthworks let out a thick, hearty laugh that sounded as mystified as Counter Charge felt. “Truth be told I’m still shocked we made it fast as we did. Instead of making the march across the roads like Captain Forced March was hollering we do, one of our Sergeants among the pegasi brought up the idea of using the Bear Bones river.”

“The river? But, I didn’t think Skywoad Keep had enough keelboats to move two full regiments of troops.”

“We didn’t, last year. Our engineers have been building more. The front had been quiet enough we’ve had more settlements cropping up along the rivers in the southern lowlands, so somepony had the smart idea that we’d need more boats for moving supplies and troops. Lucky you enough had been finished that, along with some rapidly built rafts, we were able to fit two regiments. Of course even then it’d not have been fast enough if we hadn’t also tethered our pegasi squads to the boats and rafts to tow them even faster. By the Prince’s own horn I tell you it was a helluva sight. We were packed onto those rafts shoulder to shoulder and were near pissing ourselves every time those crazy pegasi near pulled us onto rocks or sandbars. But by the Prince’s grace we hauled tail day and night, and were able to disembark just a mile south of here a few hours before dawn. Hard marched right up to the ursans flanks just as they were trying to crack your inner keep and you saw the rest. Hit the bears flanks so hard it broke them straight back across the Bear Bones. Biggest victory we’ve had on this side of the war in years and it's all thanks to you folk holding out as long as you did. Mark my words, you’ll make Captain soon as the upper brass can throw the paperwork at you.”

Counter Charge felt herself tense, back stiffening. “If they insist, but I don’t think I’ve earned Captain rank.”

“Keeping your troops together after Runeward bought it couldn’t have been easy. I’ve seen formations shatter after an officer goes down like that.” Earthworks said, leaning forward, “Its impressive you prevented a full on route, especially with a company of Heartlanders under your command. Shocked they didn’t one and all turn tail and run with piss between their tails.”

Jaw tightening, Counter Charge felt her hoof pound the table before she could completely stop the gesture. “Those Hearlanders are Legionnaires now, and they showed more courage in the field last night than I’ve seen on trained recruits from our own Barrier Lands!”

Earthworks eyebrow shot up, and she held out a hoof, “Easy there, I’m just saying it's a surprise. I’m not doubting they did their part.”

“More than their part.” Counter Charge said, calming down, voice heavy, “Those ponies.... between the ambush that hit them on their march here, and the battle last night, there’s just over half of them left from the group that marched out of the Heartland. They’ve seen more of our war in a matter of weeks than many Legionnaires see in a year of service, and they’ve done it without breaking.”

“Sounds like the draft was well worth it then. There’s been doubt, talk I’ve heard from fellow officers that drafting the Heartlanders would be an asset and not a detriment in battle.” Earthworks said matter of factly, “More than a few I’ve heard worry that Heartlander cowardice would cost honorable Legionnaires their lives if they fled from real battle. Glad to hear that wasn’t the case here.”

Counter Charge still felt there were barbs in Earthworks’ words, but she controlled herself, keeping her voice steady. “I won’t claim they’re not rattled. The survivors are holding up, but they need rest. This was far more than any of the Heartlander companies was meant to endure this early in their time among the Legion. But, yes, they have shown their worth, and courage. I intend to see to it they are given a chance to recover.”

“Time may be short on that count,” said Earthworks, eyes turning serious, “While we mangled the ursan horde, we didn’t do near enough damage to ensure they can’t regroup. Another attack is a very real threat. On top of that there’s these Lurkers of yours. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I didn’t hear so many testimonies from your troops that fought them, and saw that body you’ve got with my own eyes. Hard to believe it, but shit, proof is proof. Any idea what those things are after?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but if I had to speculate I’d say this feels like reconnaissance.”

“What makes you think that?”

Counter Charge shrugged, “A gut feeling. They’re not here in force. The hit on Arrow Vale felt... I don’t know, like a probe. Maybe the same last night, though they might’ve just been here to rescue their comrade that we’d captured.”

“Hope you flogged the idiots that let that one get away,” Earthworks eyes were narrow and her voice steel hard.

“The ones responsible for the lapse in security have been disciplined. Anyway, as I was saying, the actions of the Lurkers felt like probing maneuvers. I think what we’re dealing with is a scouting expedition. One meant to prepare for something... bigger.”

“Invasion, you think?”

“At worst case scenario, yes. Which means we’d best prepare for it, whatever is coming.”

Earthworks’ face took on a twitch of embarrassment, ”Truth be told the reports you sent on us on the Lurkers was so... out there, that General Dual Wield held on to them until we could confirm the truth of it all. You can bet your flank I’ll be telling him to send copies of those reports to every front, and even to the Prince himself as fast as pegasi wings can carry the word.”

Counter Charge gulped slightly, “The Prince, Is he still in the Heartland, at Canterlot?”

“Last I heard. Still getting things sorted out with those Princess sisters of his. Damned if I know what the Prince will decide to do about this situation. The last thing the Legion needs is another enemy on a entirely new front; bucking below us..”

Counter Charge nodded agreement, “We’ll just have to be be doubly ready for whatever those monsters are no doubt scheming.”

Leyshi held herself as still as she could, despite the brimming nervous energy coursing through her every fiber. Never before had the vast throne cavern felt quite so constricting as she watched broodmother Chirziane carefully. The broodmother was doing a much better job of staying still than Leyshi was, her huge bulbous body so unmoving that Leyshi would have thought Chirziane dead were it not for the faint hiss of breath she could hear stemming from her mistress’ mouth.

Next to Leyshi, Thirza was also remaining still, having just finished telling Chirziane the full tale of events that had transpired at the pony fortress. When he and Leyshi had reached the forest along with Thirza’s fellow hunters they stayed to watch the way the battle ended. When the ponies had been forced back into the depths of their fort’s inner sanctum and the ursans had surrounded it Leyshi had felt oddly sad. Then her heart had raced with excitement when the ground itself had pounded and shook with the arrival of a fresh army of ponies, ones who had utterly turned the battle against the ursans.

Now, though, Leyshi shifted uncomfortably on her still sore and injured legs as she wondered what Chirziane would do or say. Had this all fallen within the broodmother’s plan? Would she be mad and punish Leyshi!? She had gotten caught, but that wasn’t entirely her fault! Or worse, would Chirziane punish Thirza? That almost seemed worse to Leyshi, since she ghouth Thirza did a good job, and even helped Leyshi escape!

She was near about to collapse from worry when Chirziane spoke, her voice filling the throne chamber, despite it being soft and contemplative rather than sharp and angry.

“An unexpected outcome but not outside the bounds of what I planned for.” The broodmother’s body shifted so all eight of her dark, jewel like eyes focused on Thirza, “You did well, preserving your hunters and protecting Leyshi. Pressing the attack would have risked much for little gain, and you could not have known the ponies would send reinforcements so quickly to the fort.”

Thirza stayed still but a burst of shamed pheromones flowed from him like a sour mist, “I still offer myself for any punishment you deem fitting, broodmother. Your orders were to support the ursan assault and yet I could not ensure their victory.”

“It was not your task to ensure their victory, merely support its likely outcome. The failure is theirs, not yours, my noble hunter of hunters. If you desire punishment I shall not dishonor you by ignoring that need. Report to the painmaster when our meeting concludes and spend the evening in penance.”

“Just one evening of pain cannot erase my shame-” Thirza began but he was quickly cut off by a sharp cutting motion of the broodmother’s forelegs.

“Enough, Thirza. Accept what punishment I am willing to provide you. I need you at your peak. The time for me to create my next brood is arriving soon and I’ll not have my fittest hunter in a state unable to attend to my needs.”

Properly mollified Thirza went silent, bowing low to the ground in acceptance of the broodmother’s words. Exuding a whiff of sweet pleasure pheromones Chirziane turned her attention to Leyshi, whose heart began to race.

“Leyshi, are you well? Your legs are in a terrible state. The surface has not been kind to you.”

“Oh no mistress!” Leyshi was quick to say, “My legs are a small sacrifice to pay for all the fantastic knowledge I gained! The ponies are so amazing I can hardly blame them for being a bit rough with me. They asked all sorts of questions about what we are and what we’re doing on the surface, but I didn’t reveal anything they could use against us. In exchange I learned all sorts of neat things. Ponies are way more expressive when awake or not drugged. I was thinking we could try not drugging some of our test subjects so I can talk to them normally. I bet I can learn a lot more with just a few days to question them.”

Chirziane got Leyshi to go silent with just a simple stream of calming pheromones, so intense and directed that the scent of it caused Leyshi to almost lay down and fall asleep right then and there. The broodmother’s voice was kind, but firm.

“I will not risk further harm to you by allowing our subjects full range of their faculties. Besides I intend to move forward to the next stage of our experimentation and there will be no time for mere interrogations.”

That news almost immediately snapped Leyshi out of her near fuge stage and caused her to bounce back to her legs, “The next phase!? Oh my, are we ready for that mistress!? The chemical balance is still so... so... unstable!”

To her side she noticed Thirza stir slightly, the big hunter unable to disguise his curiosity. Chirziane waved a foreleg dismissively, “We’ll discuss this more later, Leyshi. Thirza, you are dismissed. Remember, I want you fit enough to attend me by tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, my broodmother,” he said, turning to swiftly depart the throne chamber.

After he was gone Chirziane seemed to relax slightly, approaching Leyshi with smooth movements, running a leg over the back of Leyshi’s abdomen comfortingly. “Come, Leyshi, let us see to those wounds. I’m shocked you did not heal them yourself.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry mistress, I haven’t fed lately. I didn’t have the magic to form the runes.”

“Well, that’s an easy enough problem to solve,” Chirziane said as she reached up to the webs strung above and plucked one of the thickly wrapped up ponies that had been dangling from the white threads. Half a dozen similarly wrapped ponies remained, freshly brought in from the raid on the surface village. Chirziane offered the pony to Leyshi.

“The horned ones have the most potent magic in their blood. It should be more than enough to recharge you, my little Leyshi.”

Hunger pangs reverberated through Leyshi as she caught the pony’s scent and her fangs began to ache. She could barely make out the pony’s form inside the web cocoon, but she could see it begin to tremble. It was awake?”

“Mistress, the pony is awake.”

“Yes, I’ve discovered that the magic you can drain from its blood is more potent if they are feeling strong emotions. Fear, for example.”

“Oh,” Leyshi said, staring at the pony for a moment. Her stomach clenched, both in hunter and... something else, an unease she wasn’t used to. For a moment a ludicrous thought coursed through her mind; that she didn’t want to eat the pony. She shook it off. It was a silly notion. It was only natural for an Aranea to prey upon those who were not Aranea. Fascinating as they were, ponies were still prey. Certainly Leyshi had never hesitated to eat at any other point in her life.

But she’d never studied another species the way she studied the ponies, or found any other race as interesting. It was doing things to her thoughts, making her consider all sorts of things that she’d never had reason to consider before. This pony was afraid. She could smell it. She could practically hear the frantic beating of the pony’s heart and the small grunting noises it was making were likely muffled screams.

She couldn’t quite grasp why, but Leyshi knew without a shadow of doubt she didn’t want to eat this pony.

“Um, sorry mistress, but I’m not feeling very well. I’ll eat later, but I think I just need to go to my chambers and rest. May I go?”

She couldn’t tell if the broodmother believed her half-lie, half-truth, but Chirziane made another dismissive gesture towards the exit of the throne chambers, “So be it. Do remember to eat something soon, Leyshi. We have much work to do and much like Thirza I need you at your most fit for the tasks ahead.”

Chirziane raised the frightened pony, as if about to place it back among its hanging kin, but then the broodmother paused, “Well, waste not, want not.”

The broodmother moved with a flash of speed, fangs piercing the pony in her clutches. Leyshi watched as Chirziane’s fangs pumped venom into the helpless pony that would begin to rapidly liquefy the ponies innards. The pony’s muffled screams grew sharper for a few seconds, almost piercing, then went silent. Leyshi turned away as Chiriziane began to feed, sucking out the liquid insides of the pony with gentle slurping noises.

For some reason the Leyshi could not name those noises left her feeling very uneasy, even long after she reached her dark sleeping chambers to drift off to sleep.

Many miles from Beartrap Fortress, deep within the forest expanse that carpeted the foothills of the west mountains, the ursans who had survived the battle had gathered. Braves of all the clans Warcheif Ulragnok had led into defeat were now formed into a large circle, grumbling and growling. Many bore wounds from the fight with the ponies, yet none lay to rest or tend to those wounds. No brave among the remaining horde dared to miss the events transpiring in the circle, where two combatants clashed viciously.

Ulragnok himself was bereft of his armor, his titanic body covered in fresh claw wounds that turned his brown fur slick and red. Yet despite his injuries he did not slow as he slammed his body into the darker, black furred form of Chieftain Gertharka, smashing the female backwards with a roar that shook the boughs of the tall pines.

Gertharka did not fall from the blow, instead digging her own back claws into the ground and wrapping her fore arms around Ulragnok’s neck even as he pushed her backwards. With a deep throated growl she twisted and threw, using Ulragnok’s momentum against him to send the Warcheif sprawling with a crash that shook the ground.

“You are weak! In body and in your so-called ‘warrior’ soul!” challenged Gertharka, “You promised us victory and your cowardice has only brought us humiliation!”

Ulragnok spat out blood, having bit the inner cheek of his mouth from the tumble he’d taken, but his eyes blazed only with rage rather than pain. Shame burned like an acid inside him, yet that only fueled his anger. He wanted nothing more than to return to the pony fortress and personally tear the innards out of every single equine he could lay his claws upon, but most of all the ponies that had... had... interfered with his conquest. Not defeated him. He would not acknowledge that humiliation as a defeat! The blue pony had distracted him with her taunts, then other ponies had cowardly attacked him from behind! He’d kill them all. Especially the blue one. She would die the slowest. He had already imagined a thousand ways to make her end the most painful and drawn out.

The vision of that irritating pony with her entrails dripping from his claws was so vivid it almost distracted him from Gertharka’s follow up charge. He narrowed his eyes at his ebony foe as she barreled towards him and rushed to meet her. His body smashed into hers in a bone jarring crash and both he and Gertharka ended up rolling in the dirt in a flurry of snarling teeth and flashing claws. He was beyond caring about the pain, anger drowning all the agony of his wounds, his entire vision a crimson focal point that could only see Gertharka. She tried to get leverage under him and he could tell she was intending to flip him on his back so his vulnerable belly would be exposed. With a feral grin he invited her to try, rearing up in a way that’d seemingly leave him unbalanced for a moment. Gertharka seized upon his feint, the sneer in her eyes clearly showing she didn’t think much of Ulragnok anymore and was assuming he’d made a mistake.

He instead capitalized on hers as she tried to hook his legs to sweep them out from under him. The moment she did so, which exposed most of her back to his fury, he immediately solidified his stance and began to viciously tear into the thick black hide before him. Gertharka roared in pain as Ulragnok’s teeth and claws savaged her back, ripping great bloody gouges across her flesh. She tried to still flip him onto his back, but he’d dug his claws in deep and held firm against her.

“Weak! You think me WEAK!?” he bellowed, loud enough and with such rage that many of the braves watching in the circle backed away a few steps.

His claws sank deep into Gertharka’s hide as he gripped her body on either side, and with a titanic heave did what few ursan warriors could do... bodily lift another ursan straight off and ground. He heaved Gertharka’s squirming body above his head, every muscle in his arms and shoulder bulging and his eyes filled with bloodshot fury as he roared.

“Call me weak now, Gertharka!”

With every ounce of his wrath driven might he hurled Gertharka bodily through the air. Braves scrambled to get out of the path of her flailing form as it flew straight out of the battle circle and smashed into one of the mighty, thick pine trees. The wood of the trunk shuddered and cracked under the blow, a sound almost louder than the snap of bone in Gertharka’s shoulder. Her body fell to the ground with a dull thud and among the surrounding braves there was a deep silence, many eyes staring in disbelief at the sight they had just witnessed.

Ulragnok fell back to all fours, mouth hanging open as he panted his exhaustion. With lumbering steps he began to march towards Gertharka. She was trying to rise, but her smashed shoulder was distended and left her right fore leg dangling uselessly, unable to bear any weight. Ulragnok gave her no time for recovery. The moment he reached her he reared up once more, and lacing his fore paws together he brought down a punishing hammer blow upon Gertharka’s head, smashing her straight to the ground again. Bloodlust gripped him, and for an instant he imagined the blue coated pony in front of him, with her mocking eyes and insulting voice. He wanted to smash her skull in, and Gertharka’s own head was a tempting enough target to vent upon.

He raised his paws to smash again, fully intending to continue until Gertharka’s skull was so much bloody mush, but before he could land his second blow he heard a resonate female voice chanting from behind him. The ground erupted beneath his paws and Ulragnok found himself being wrapped up firmly in a burst of thick roots that flowed up from the ground.

He growled and slashed at the roots with his claws, yet dozens more replaced the ones he smashed and in seconds he was fully bound, wrapped so thoroughly in the roots that he could do nothing but glare at the one responsible as the roots moved to turn him around and face her.

“Regarna! What is the meaning of this!? You...” he blinked in surprise as he realized just what she’d done, what kind of power she’d used.

“You’re an Earthsinger!?”

She bowed her head, but held on her lips a cocky smile and gleam in her eyes, “A fact I failed to mention earlier, yet now many of your braves know, for I brought low the wall of the pony fortress. The Mother of Bear’s blood does sing through my veins. I make no claim to anything closer than the twentieth generation, but it is enough for my voice to command the earth to a modest degree.”

“Hmph, impressive, but it matters little. You have no right to interfere with a challenge between Chieftains.”

Regarna, her shocking green eyes regarding him coolly, merely nodding her head towards the fallen Gertharka.

“The challenge is over, Warchief, and you stand victorious. You would kill the Chieftain of the Night Roar Clan after she already lay defeated?”

He snarled, lips pulled back to bear all of his red stained teeth. “It is my right to do with the loser what I choose.”

“Then choose wisdom, Warchief.” Regarna said plainly, “She is a worthy warrior and it would be a waste to kill her, now that you’ve established your superiority.”

Ulragnok’s growl faded to a mere faint rumble as he flexed his muscles. He felt he might be able to break the roots if he put all his might into it, but he knew that Regarna could summon more. Earthsingers were a rare thing among ursans. They were descended from the bloodline of the Mother of Bears herself. While dozens of generations removed them from the pure divine blood of their forebear the powers of Earthsingers were not to be underestimated, nor the awe they could inspire in their fellow ursans.

As an Earthsinger Regarna could command much respect among the braves of his army and Ulragnok could see that respect reflected in the eyes of the ursans who were watching the scene unfold. If he gave into anger and sought to challenge Regarna then he might lose more face than he could possibly gain by defeating her, and now that he’d had a moment to let his blood cool he realized she was not making a challenge, merely seeking to keep him from slaughtering the Chieftain of the Night Roar Clan. Doing that, as good as it might have felt, would likely have utterly alienated him from the Night Roars and caused him to lose even more braves from his horde.

With as dignified a snort as he could manage he said, “I shall spare her. You speak wisdom, Earthsinger. She may yet lead the Night Roar with strength, through she must now remember that my strength is greater still.”

“Of course, none now would dare challenge that claim,” said Regarna, through her tone suggested she perhaps thought something different. With a simple chant the roots fell away from Ulragnok and he rose. With a simple gesture he commanded some braves to tend to Gertharka. He didn’t bother to watch as she was dragged away. While he suspected there might be other challenges in the days to come following the humiliating defeat at the hooves of the ponies. Gertharka had merely been the most bold, but others would work up their nerve, even after seeing what he’d just done to his opponent.

He didn’t care, he’d crush them all. He’d reassert his control over his horde, rebuild it and gain more followers, then return to deal with the ponies.

“Warchief, allow me to see to your wounds. The blessings of the earth can ease many pains,” said Regarna as Ulragnok began to stomp out of the circle of braves and make his way through the horde’s camp towards the cave he’d claimed as his own.

“I need no healing. The pain is of no consequence,” he growled, his steps louder and harsher as he eyed her.

Regarna’s eyes were unreadable as she followed him. He didn’t think for a moment that she intended anything that he’d find enjoyable. Not after being forced to retreat from battle. He certainly didn’t smell any interest coming off of her, so what was she planning, following him to his cave? At the entrance to the cavern, which was set in the side of a large hill’s outcropping of rocks, and lit by a bonfire just outside the entrance, he paused and turned an irate glare towards her.

“Why do you follow me, Earthsinger?”

“Oh, it is Earthsinger now? Not Regarna?”

“Do not toy with me. I am in no mood for games. Speak your purpose or begone!”

“Let us go inside, Warchief. What I have to say is not something for the ears of any who pass by,” she said, voice taking on a resonate tone that made Ulragnok’s ears twitch. He snorted, turning back towards his cave.

“Do not waste my time or you’ll find Gertharka was the lucky one this day.”

Inside his cave was a bed of furs of various creatures ursans hunted, elk and smaller deer mostly. He lay upon them and turned his head to regard Regarna as she sat across from him. Her eyes met his firmly and he felt as if she’d summoned more roots to entrap his body, despite the fact that it was her eyes alone that held him.

“As you wish, I’ll not waste time,” she said, voice sharp as shards of volcanic glass, “I want to know when and why you brokered a deal with those... things.”

He raised an eyebrow, but he felt a stab of nervousness. “Things?”

Regarna’s own growl filled the cave with an echo that sent a shiver down Ulragnok’s spine, “Do not waste my time, either, ‘Warchief’. Your braves and I saw them, the many legged ones. They fought against the ponies, yet I do not doubt they have aided you in other ways. It could be not but you who brought them into that battle, so do not bother lying to me, Ulragnok. Do you know what you’ve done? What you’ve made alliance with?”

Ulragnok considered how quickly he might rise from his furs and slash her throat out. Could she chant fast enough to save her life? Could she bring forth roots in the thick rocks of the cavern? Or perhaps he was underestimating her and she was a powerful enough Earthsinger to command the rocks themselves? Yet despite himself he could not seem to work up the indignation or rage to attack. He also didn’t bother denying her words, as it was clear she’d convinced herself and nothing he could say would lead her to believe otherwise.

Besides, it was all true.

“I know not what they are, only that they were of use to me,” he said plainly, no shame in his voice, “They offered to aid in my rise and why should I not have accepted? They did not betray our bargain, though their ‘help’ was of less use than I’d have hoped. What business it is of yours, Earthsinger? They are mere creatures of shadow, with no strength or power to threaten we ursans.”

Regarna’s lips drew back in a deep breath that was then let out in a low growl, “You confound me, Warchief! Some moments I think you a noble warrior, while others I can’t help but see an utter fool before me!”

“Be careful with your words...” he warned in a flinty tone.

“Or what? You’re near dead after smashing Gertharka. I will not spend time on you if you cannot see your own errors! To strike a deal with things like you have was the height of foolishness. You have no idea what it was with which you were dealing. They are the Aranea.”

Ulragnok blinked, “Impossible. That is naught by myth. They never existed. A tale the elders sing to help themselves fall asleep!”

Regarna shook her head, “No myth. The Demons Below existed, and still do. Aranea, their ancient name, is still sung among every storyteller because it is a reminder to always remain vigilant and cautious of what lurks below our land of sun, mountain, and tree. You’ve made a bargain with an ancient enemy of our people. How much do you think your braves would be willing to follow you if they realized this?”

Ulragnok went silent for a few moments, mind slowly trying to chew upon Regarna’s words. He had, perhaps, been suspicious of his shadowy allies when he’d first met them. Yet they had provided him results. He’d risen to power because of their aid. He’d expected to lead his horde to victory with their aid as well, but that had proven fruitless. Could those creatures truly have been the Aranea of legend that had battled with the Mother of Bears for control of the ursans ancestral mountain homes? It seemed... ludicrous. Yet if it were true?

“Let us say you are right, Earthsinger. If these many legged freaks are indeed the Aranea of myth, then what is stopping you from using this to usurp me as Warchief? I doubt many would question the word of an Earthsinger, and you could destroy me utterly with this. So why speak to me about this privately, in a place where I might slay you before your words could undo me?”

Her emerald eyes bored into him, “Because I have no desire to be Warchief. I spoke truth to you the night before the battle. I followed you because I believed it was right to bring the listless young ursans of our generation into glorious battle. That has not changed with merely one defeat. Indeed I think more highly of you to retreat when you did.”

That made Ulragnok scoff, “You think highly of a coward that ran from ponies?”

“It is not cowardice to know when a battle is lost! It is wisdom. Foolish as you may be I sense the potential in you for greatness, Ulragnok. Where a lesser warrior would have pressed the attack, even when the ponies outnumbered us and outflanked us, out of sheer useless pride, you had the sense to call for retreat. Tell me, why?”

Ulragnok blanched, looking away from her, “There... was no victory to be had, when that fresh army of ponies crashed into our flanks. I would have lost half my remaining horde trying to stay and fight, even if victory had somehow become possible.”

“That is what I mean. That is why I still call you Warchief. Defeated we were, but you had the wisdom and courage to bear the shame of retreat to preserve your army. Now it is possible for us to still rebuild our numbers, gather other braves from the other clans. We can prepare for what is to come.”

“The only thing I wish to prepare for is the death of those who humiliated me,” he grunted.

Regarna batted a paw at him that caused him to growl, yet the gesture had been almost... playful.

“The ponies can wait. It is your allies, or rather former allies that concern me, and should be concerning you.” Regarna’s claws flexed, tearing small gouges in the stone beneath her, “The Aranea will not have used us to no purpose. They will move, soon, in whatever manner their twisted schemes will send them. We cannot afford to let them move freely, for no doubt they think us weak after losing to the ponies.”

That word, weak, caused Ulragnok’s growl to reverberating througough the cave. While he had every intention of resuming his war upon the pony lands, he could not deny that Regarna’s words struck a chord with him. The Demons Below had used him. He’d let them use him, his ambitions outweighing his common sense. Whether they were the Aranea of legend or not was irrelevant. He would make them pay the same as the ponies.

All who had played a part in humiliating him would be made to pay.

The mess hall of Beartrap Fortress was far less crowded than it had been days before, with every empty spot at the tables a reminder of those gone. Yet despite this the mood of the room was high, or at least it seemed that way to Allie Way. She was given hefty pats on the shoulders by other Legionnaires as she went through the line to get her bowl of stew and as she passed many tables she saw other ponies raising mugs to each other, downing hefty quaffs of ale. Barrels of the stuff had been brought out from the inner keep. Apparently every Legion fort had a supply of the stuff for celebrating victories or other important events.

Allie Way wasn’t much in the mood for celebrating but she tried to smile back, despite how uncomfortable she felt every time a Legion pony would look her way. She almost preferred the faint disdain the Legion ponies had for her and her fellow Heartlanders over this strange turn of respect. She certainly didn’t feel like she’d earned it.

“Allie Way! Over here!” shouted Blossomforth, the wingless pegasus waving her hooves from the end of one table where Allie Way could see that Trixie and Coco were also there, seated with another pony she didn’t recognize, a young stallion with his head wrapped up with bandages.

Trotting swifted to the table Allie Way gratefully took a seat next to Coco, just across from Blossomforth, who gave Allie Way a large smile.

“First chance I’ve had to say thanks,” said Blossomforth.

“Thanks? Um, for what?” Allie Way asked, one ear flicking.

“What else? You totally saved Trixie’s kiester back there. Everypony in the fort’s hear the story by now, heh, not that Trixie’s been modest about telling it.”

Trixie tossed her mane, holding her head high while giving Allie Way a nod, “Trixie had merely provided an accurate recounting of events to those that have wished to listen. And of course Trixie does not claim all the glory for confronting that terrible Warchief, given both you and Coco actually struck the blows that laid the brute low. Trixie... er, helped, of course. A team effort!”

Allie Way cringed in on herself, “I just threw a ball.”

“Yeah!” said Blossomforth, “A big, heavy medicine ball that totally rung that jerk’s bell and saved Trixie from being all disemboweled.”

Trixie coughed on a bit of stew, “Please, Trixie is trying to eat!”

“Just saying.”

Allie Way looked down at her stew and poked at it with a wooden spoon, almost jumping when the stallion with the bandages on his head said, “Hey, something wrong? You look out of it.”

She blinked at him, “Um, I’m okay. Who are you?”

“Strong Back,” answered Blossomforth for the stallion, “He’s from Arrow Vale.”

The stallion in question rubbed the back of his head, grimacing, “Been out like a light since these mares were nice enough to drag my dumb flank out of that town after I cracked my head trying to help them with those spiderwhatsits. Just came to this morning to find out I missed an entire battle.”

“That’s... that’s a good thing,” Allie Way said, shivering involuntarily her mind flashed to the blood and screams of the previous night, “You didn’t want to be awake for that.”

Strong Back’s mane seemed to twitched as he crossed his arms, “Prince’s flaming rump I didn’t! My kin had to fight and die by the dozens last night, and I oughta been there to do my part instead of sleeping off a little bump to the noggin. Coulda done something brave like you.”

Allie Way’s voice came out as a choked whisper, “I’m not brave.”

“Course you are. Ain’t no coward can rush a ursan Warchief like you did,” he insisted.

She shook her head, looking at the eyes of those seated at the table around her and feeling nothing but sharp guilt at their looks. Trixie and Blossomforth both look faintly concerned, while Coco had a more unreadable yet somehow more piercing look. Strong Back just looked confident in his own words, through his brows did twitch with confusion as he stared at her. Allie Way gulped hard, chest tight, but she found herself able to speak.

“You all don’t understand. I... I only did that one thing, and that only because I was desperate to help Trixie. The entire battle all I could do was cower. Cower and watch as other ponies died. I even hid myself in the clinic instead of joining everypony else fighting. I just shook and cried under a bed like a little filly until I heard Trixie screaming. I’m not brave. I’m not a hero. I’m just a coward.”

A brief silence hung over the table after that. Allie Way hadn’t spoken loudly, certainly not loud enough that any ponies at other tables could hear her confession, but just saying it aloud to those who’d been most directly affected by her actions still left Allie Way feeling both scared and oddly relieved. She didn’t want to hold that in forever.

Coco was the one who broke the silence. “I don’t think you’re a coward. Everypony in that fight was scared. A lot of them might have ran if they thought they could. Others might have hid away like you did. Nopony faces death with a steady heart without being insane, stupid, or both. Allie Way, you got scared. So what? You still made the right choice in the end and whether it was desperation or not, you saved me, Trixie, maybe the entire battle... so don’t call yourself a coward again otherwise I’ll smack you right upside your head.”

Allie Way blinked at Coco, whose eyes were completely serious. After a moment she nodded and said, “O-okay. I’ll...um, yeah.”

Trixie coughed politely, “Well now that that’s settled Trixie shall resume eating. Although, now that Trixie thinks about it, where has Coldiron gone off to?”

Coco tilted her head in thought, “I haven’t seen her all day, come to think of it.”

“Coldiorn? Oh, right, the ice mage,” said Strong Back, “I hope she’s alright.”

“She is,” said Blossomforth with a sad sigh, “Or at least, she’s okay physically. I don’t know how she’s doing otherwise. Her dad...well, he’s in a bad way. She’s with him back in the clinic. I talked a bit with Quick Needle about it.”

She didn’t elaborate further, the pegasus mare’s depressed look as she sagged in her seat saying more than words could about the situation. The ponies all went quiet for a time, eating silently. Allie Way didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t really know Coldiron well, only that she was the Legion mare that’d led Trixie and the others to Arrow Vale. If her father was going to pass on all Allie Way could do was say a quiet prayer for both of them.

Suddenly Trixie rose from the table and said, “If she’s been there all this time then Trixie is sure that foolish mare hasn’t eaten. Trixie shall fix that.”

“Uh, Trixie, she might not want company right now,” said Blossomforth as Trixie snatched up a spare bowl.

“Perhaps not, but Trixie will not let a... acquaintance starve herself. If she does not like it she can take it up with Trixie’s complaint department, located between Trixie’s hind cheeks.”

Allie Way nearly sputtered stew at that comment, and stared after Trixie as the mare went to collect a fresh bowl of stew from the cook line and marched off with the steaming meal.

The combined smell of antiseptics and dried blood still clung to the air of the clinic despite one or two sweeps with magic to clear out most of the smell. There were few wounded left in the clinic who hadn’t already been cleared to return to duty, the Legion having a fairly loose set of regulations in regards to what counted as being fit for work and most Legionnaires not wanting to spend any more time than necessary in bed.

As a result the clinic was mostly empty save for a few cases that still required bed rest, and almost all of them were sedated and sleeping.

Only Solid Plough had been given some privacy at the far end of the clinic, mostly out of respect to the fact that his family were present in the fort to visit the stallion as he lay unconscious on that thin line between life and death, a line everypony knew he wouldn’t remain on for much longer.

Coldiron’s younger brothers had taken turns at the bedside of their father earlier, through Coldiron herself had not left for any of that time. Some practical part of her mind and heart were yelling at her to get off her flank and report back to duty. She wasn’t badly injured, save for the crack in her horn. That crack still hurt immensely if she tried to channel magic, a splitting headache worse than any migraine. She knew her horn would recover in time, albeit with the cost of a weaker magical aura. She’d never be as powerful a battlemage as she’d been before overchanneling like that... but she couldn’t bring herself to regret doing so. She’d driven that giant Lurker back and was certain she and Blossomforth would be either dead or facing a worse fate still if she hadn’t went beyond her limits. She was Legion, she could learn to cope with anything.

Her father’s chest rose and fell with slow, raspy breaths, and she locked her jaw tight.

Coldiron quickly noticed it when Trixie arrived, floating a bowl of steaming stew in her magical aura. She watched as Trixie set the bowl down on the small table of medical tools next to her. The azure Heartlander had a strange look in her eyes, one that held that arrogant glint Coldiron was so familiar with now, but also a current of worry and stubbornness that made Trixie had never shown her before.

“Trixie has heard you have been here all day with no food. In her infinite wisdom she has seen fit to deliver you a meal,” Trixie said, looking ready to argue with Coldiron on whether said meal would be eaten or not.

Coldiron for her part didn’t say a word as she turned to the bowl and floated the bowl up, quirking an eyebrow, “No spoon?”

Trixie’s eyes fluttered in a few blinks, then her face blanched, “Bah! Of course Trixie didn’t forget to grab a spoon. She merely imagined there would be an appropriate utensil here, er, somewhere.”

With a weary sigh Coldiron reached over to pick up the bowl between her hooves, “Its fine, I don’t need a spoon. Can’t lift one with magic anyway.”

She dipped her muzzle to the bowl, eating with about as much grace as anypony could manage. Earth ponies did this all the time, so she imagined it was fine enough for her. As the warm stew hit her stomach she realized just how hungry she’d been as it gurgled in relief. Setting the bowl down for a moment she wiped her mouth with an arm and glanced at Trixie.

“Thanks. I guess I just forgot the time...” her eyes drifted back to her father’s prone form.

Trixie shifted nervously on her hooves, “Trixie thought you’d be more resistant to eating, or her presence.”

Coldiron rolled her eyes, “Why? I needed the food, and there’s nothing wrong with you being here.”

“You haven’t really liked Trixie much before.”

“Didn’t say I like you much now, but that’s moot,” said Coldiron, then let out a long, slow breath, looking Trixie in the eye, gazing at her scare and the filmy whiteness of her scarred eye, “Besides, you’ve bled for the Legion. I don’t have any issues with you anymore, Trixie Lulamoon. We may not be close friends, now, or perhaps ever, but we are comrades. If I can trust you in a fight, I can accept you here, now, as I wait for my father to die.”

“You don’t know that he will.”

With a sharp shake of her head Coldiron said, “I understand now that this is part of what makes you Heartlanders who you are. You can’t let go of your hope, even in the face of the obvious. Perhaps in time I’ll learn to appreciate it.”

She laid a hoof on her father’s, feeling the thready pulse in his veins. She gripped that hoof tightly, though she knew she wouldn’t feel a return grip. “I know my father’s time is near. All I want is to be here for him.”

It made shame boil up through her that she could feel wetness pooling in her eyes and her throat was getting tighter. She didn’t want anypony else seeing her this way, least of all Trixie, but she was able to keep a tight enough lid on her emotions that only a bare hint of the pain reached her voice.”He won’t survive, but he may yet wake up, if only for a minute. If he does, I don’t want him to wake up to an empty room. He deserves to know one of his family are here with him for the end.”

That, and there were still many things she wanted to tell him. If he did wake up she knew she wouldn’t have enough time for even a fraction of all the words she wished to get out, all the unburied hatchets she wished to be done away with. She wasn’t sure she could ever apologize for all of their arguments, their disagreements over the purpose of the Legion, but she wanted to at least tell him that she’d never hated him for any of it.

She felt a hoof on her withers and saw that Trixie had come up, giving that brief comforting touch. Trixie almost as quickly pulled back, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Trixie has been assigned to guard duty for the night, but if you want Trixie can stand vigil with you until her shift beings.”

Coldiron let out a small, weak laugh, “That depends, how quiet can Trixie be?”

Trixie seemed to briefly consider this, then answered with a raised hoof, “Moderately quiet. Trixie may spontaneously launch into anecdotes of her travels across Equestria in a mad effort to keep your spirits up.”

“Heh, well... I suppose I can survive that.”

The next dawn greeted a warmer day, the sky brushed with only a hoof full of clouds. Trixie had remained awake the entire night, posted upon the north palisade wall as a sentry. Staying up and alert had not been too difficult for Trixie, who had spent more than her fair share of sleepless nights in order to make it to the next town when she’d traveled as a magician. Besides she wasn’t very eager to sleep, despite the exhausted aches of her body. She was not looking forward to the nightmares she’d be having after all that had happened so far during her short tenure with the Legion.

Before the sun’s light even managed to fully crest the horizon Trixie saw that there were ponies heading out the gate to the field of bodies that had been set up the previous day. Burial details had been hard at work all through the night laying the rest the bodies slated to be buried by the fort, yet there were still many more bodies that needed to be transported. The Legion ponies had begun to line up hastily constructed carts near the lines of bodies; a surreal and disturbing sight to Trixie.

Among the ponies overseeing the work was Counter Charge, who as far as Trixie could tell was now the temporary commander of the fort with the death of the previous Captain. Trixie stretched her tired limbs as she blearily watched the proceedings, watching the dead be loaded to be taken to their various final resting places. The bodies were wrapped in canvas, and Trixie was glad she hadn’t been assigned that duty yesterday.

After an hour her relief arrived, the stern faced Legion pony giving her a firm nod as he took over her post and she was clear to go get some sleep. Yet instead of heading for her tent Trixie found herself pausing as she noticed a pony slowly walking towards the north gate from the direction of the clinic. Trixie’s heart sank as she recognized the pony was Coldiron, and that she had lain across her back the body of her father.

Trixie didn’t think twice, she diverted from her tent and instead approached Coldiron. She said nothing as she filed in next to the other unicorn, the pair sharing a glance. Coldiron’s eyes were hard, yet there was a glint of gratefulness there as well. Trixie didn’t need to look at Solid Plough’s body to know he wasn’t breathing. Trixie didn’t ask whether he’d ever woken up for any length of time at all last night. He hadn’t by the time she’d needed to leave Coldiron’s side for her guard shift. If he had woken up Trixie imagined it wasn’t her business to ask. Coldiron gave nothing away by her expression or posture.

When they reached the field of bodies they were spotted by the ponies working there and it was Counter Charge herself who approached them, eyes grim. Counter Charge gave Coldiron a weary but understanding nod.

“Sergeant,” Counter Charge saluted.

Coldiron returned the gesture, “Sergeant, I regret that I must report that Solid Plough of the Arrow Value Volunteer Regiment, 2nd Company, has succumbed to his injuries sustained in honorable battle. I request permission to lay his body to rest as he would have wished, in our family graveyard at our farm outside Arrow Vale. I wish to bury him alongside my mother. It may take a day or two.”

Counter Charge didn’t even think about it, nodding her head, “Permission granted. Do your brothers know?”

“Not yet, I will inform them before I leave. They’ll wish to help.”

“Most of the Arrow Vale civilians aren’t cleared to leave the fort yet,” said Counter Charge, “Too dangerous to move them back to their town until it’s been confirmed secured. There’s a chance Lurkers remain a danger in the area, or ursan stragglers. If you’re going to your family farm you’ll need a burial detail to act as escort.”

Trixie didn’t hesitate, stepping forward, “Trixie would wish to volunteer. And she knows several other ponies who no doubt will also wish to volunteer.”

Counter Charge nodded as if she’d expected this response, “Granted. Coldiron, I assume you have no objections?”

Coldiron had none, smiling gratefully. After that it took less than an hour for Blossomforth and Coco Pommel to be detached from their morning duties and granted permission to join the burial detail. Coldiron’s brothers, Haybale and Hoedown, to be given the news of their father’s passing. Neither had any qualms about having help laying their father to rest. Before it had even reached mid-morning the four mares and two stallions were departing Beartrap Fortress. All were fully armed and armored, carrying full saddlebags of supplies for the trip back to Arrow Vale. Coldiron carried her father’s body on her back, still, but he was now carefully wrapped in a canvas with the patched standard of the Arrow Vale 2nd stitched onto the cloth.

Allie Way had met with them briefly as they’d left, wishing them luck on their journey before she had to scurry off to join the repair crew she’d been assigned to for the day.

Conversation was sparse for the first leg of the trek down the long road back towards Arrow Vale. A firm wind stirred up by early afternoon, causing the waves of trees around the ponies to whisper like the sound of distant ocean waves as the ponies walked with steady steps. They made good time, camping even further ahead of the place they had before when night finally fell. Around the campfire tension eased and the ponies talked, Trixie making good on her earlier threat to Coldiron about telling tall tales of her travels in Equestria to lighten the spirits of her companions. Despite the dire nature of their journey it seemed Haybale and Hoedown both found hearing of the Heartland a worthy distraction from the covered body of their father, and Coldiron gave Trixie a grateful look for the tales.

Blossomforth was happy to add her own stories of life in a humble town like Ponyville, so similar in a lot of ways to Arrow Vale, and Coco talked of the many grand sites and unique oddities of life in a big city like Manehattan. They got a good night’s sleep, even while posting watches in case of danger. Nothing accosted them in the night, however, and they were well under way by the time the sun’s first rays warmed them the next day. With the vast expanse of fields now before them, green grass flowing with waves from the warm morning breeze, Trixie could easily imagine being back in Equestria.

For the first time Trixie started to see the Barrier Lands not as a war embroiled purgatory but as a land no different than her home. She could understand why the Legion fought so hard to protect it. Trixie might always resent the Legion for the draft, but the reasons for it she could almost understand now.

They followed the road for a few more hours, but they turned off on a well worn cart path leading through a field of tall grass. Not long after Trixie could see a farmstead resting atop a gentle hill. The short log cabin was joined by a single barn overlooking a set of dark earthen fields. Coldiron led the way up the path to the front of the house, taking her father’s body around to the back of the cabin. There Trixie could see that hidden behind the cabin was a single, small peach tree, standing like a lone sentinel looking over the fields. Its branches swayed softly in the wind, making the tree almost look like it was breathing.

Underneath the boughs of the tree was a gravemarker carved from a simple stone. Coldiron carefully set down her father’s body next to that gravemarker, wiping sweat from her brow.

“Coco, if you follow Haybale inside he can show you the tool shed. We should have enough shovels.”

“Of course,” said Coco, and Haybale went ahead and led her back towards the side of the cabin. Blossomforth in the meantime looked about with curious eyes.

“This is a nice lace. How long did you live here?”

“Sis signed up with the Legion soon as she could get them to believe she was of legal age,” said Hoedown, shaking his head with a hard chuckle that was almost a sob, “Remember dad was ticked off fiercely when he found out.”

Coldiron sighed, “Yeah, I always wondered why he didn’t get me discharged for signing up before I was old enough...”

“Don’t think dad could’ve brought himself to do that when mom did the exact same thing when she was young. He respected her a lot.”

Blossomforth nodded vigorously, “Yeah, I bet they were both proud of you, following your mom’s hoof steps.”

Soon enough Coco and Haybale returned with the shovels but Coldiron first turned around and led them all into the cabin. “We’ll eat lunch first. This will be long work and not to be done on empty stomachs. Um, Haybale, you can cook, right?”

“Pfft, can I cook? Sis, you’ve been away from home too long. Lemme show you what you’ve been missing all these years.”

Haybale backed up his words with a hearty meal of potatoes and oats that were surprisingly tasty for what was relatively simple fare. Trixie suspected he had some spices hidden away that added a lot of the flavor. The food was washed down with ale, which Trixie was still adjusting to as an almost more common drink than water out in the Barrier Lands, and with their bellies freshly filled the ponies marched back outside to get to the business at hoof.

Trixie was the only one with access to magic, with Coldiron’s horn out of commission, so out of self conscious pride she took up a shovel with her bare hooves. The digging went faster than she would have thought, Coldiron and her brothers putting their backs to the task with a fervor that seemed to infect her, Coco and Blossomforth. Once the hole was dug Coldiron remained in the hole to catch the head of her father’s body as her two brothers slowly lowered him down. Once the body was gently laid out on the bottom of the hole Coldiron climbed out and the ponies stood over the hole silently for a few minutes.

Trixie had no idea what was appropriate here. Legion customs were still quite beyond her, though she supposed that this wasn’t a Legion funeral in the strictest sense of the term. Were they supposed to say some words?

Neither Coldiorn or her brothers were saying anything, so Trixie chose to remain silent as well. She did watch out of the corner of her eye, watching the faces of the ponies who’d lost their father. While they might not have been speaking, their faces told more than words could have. She’d rarely seen Legionnaires show their emotions, as if there was some sort of military ban on them. Neither Haybale or Hoedown were Legionnaires, however, so their tears were not held back. The siblings remained close to each other, placing hooves across each others shoulders, the brothers hugging their sister from either side as she too finally broke down and let her tears fall.

It was only natural to join them. Trixie hadn’t even known the stallion who lay before her, but that hardly mattered. It was just normal to share the mourning of others. When ponies did things, they did them together. Blossomforth’s loud sobs mixed with Coco’s softer, closed eyed tears. Trixie couldn’t help but want to wipe at her face, not used to really doing something like this, and realizing that in the years to come she might end up putting other ponies in the ground as well. Perhaps even some of the friends that stood beside her now. Or perhaps they’d be the ones to bury Trixie. Oddly she found that thought more a comfort than a cause for further sadness.

She wasn’t certain how much time passed, but at some unknown signal Coldiron gradually stemmed her tears and with a final, close and hard hug with her brothers, she took up her shovel once more. Trixie and the others followed her lead and with steady movements they filled the hole where Solid Plough would sleep beside his wife for the rest of time.

When the matter was done Coldiron took a deep breath, her face turning back into the same, calm and strong mask Trixie was familiar with, but that mask couldn’t hide the gratitude shining in Coldiron’s eyes as she looked at the ponies around her.

“Thank you. All of you. I don’t know if I could have done this alone.”

“We’re friends. Never doubt we’ll be here for you, now and always,” said Coco.

“Darn straight!” said Blossomforth, rushing over to throw a hug on Coldiron, who took it with a bemused by accepting look, “We’ll be here for you whenever you need us.”

Trixie found herself nodding, “We may not have come to this land by choice, but even Trixie can say that she is glad to have come to know you, and call you a friend.”

“Friends... yeah, I think I can call all of you that, can’t I?”

They stayed there a time longer, first to find and carve a proper gravemarker for Solid Plough, and later that evening to enjoy a final meal with Haybale and Hoedown before they’d begin the journey back to Beartrap Fortress. The sun was not yet starting to set by the time they departed, but Coldiron was insistent they could make a good few miles before nightfall, and that they might even march through the night in order to get back to the fortress in good time. Trixie didn’t complain. She felt lighter than she had in the many days, weeks now, since she’d been drafted as Legionnaire.

“Three weeks down...” she said to herself wistfully as she watched the sky gradually turn to deep shades of dark blue, clouds running from white to burned orange as the sun started to set.

“Only fourteen hundred and thirty nine days to go!” said Blossomforth, laughing.

Trixie could only share in the laugh as she marched beside her fellow Legionnaires back to Beartrap Fortress and towards an unknown future that, at least for this brief moment, she didn’t fear.

Author's Note

And so we're nearly done. Well, with the first story at any rate. Probably obvious by now that there's plenty of plot threads set up for later, but this almost brings our first act to a close in which our main characters are set up and put their their baptism of fire with the Legion. We've got just one more bit to go, a relatively short epilogue that'll act as the lead in for the next story. I want to thank you all for reading along so far, hope you folks have been enjoying it. And even if not, no prob, leave a comment letting me know what I could do better on. In fact, as always, I welcome all comments and critiques. 'Till next time.

Epilogue: The Underwatch

Epilogue: The Underwatch

Ten days later...

There’d been little rest to be had over the course of the days since the Battle of Beartrap Fortress, a fact that Coldiron was grateful enough for. Working up a sweat kept her mind off of things and gave her a focus. Quick Needle had been on her about getting proper rest and checking in with him at least twice a day to have her horn examined, but she otherwise was able to throw herself into her duties and the days had passed quickly as a result. Channeling magic was still painful, but she could already feel a noticeable difference in the intensity of the headaches, the pain lesser with each rise and fall of the sun. Picking up anything heavier than her dagger or frosting over more than a patch of a training dummy was still beyond her, but she felt confident she could be battle ready in another week or two.

There had so far been little sign or word concerning the Lurkers, a fact that left Coldiron more than a little uneasy. She didn’t doubt the spiders were up to something and it was only a matter of time before they appeared again. As for the ursans the last word from long range scouting patrols had indicated the bulk of the horde had moved further west. While that was encouraging in that it meant another attack wasn’t likely to happen soon, the fact the horde remained together and hadn’t splintered suggested the Warchief who’d united that horde was still in power.

Like the Lurkers, Coldiron suspected they hadn’t heard the last of the ursans either.

Beartrap Fortress had most of its damage repaired by now, the Legion working tirelessly to fix the shattered west gate and the massive gap in the east wall. The fortress not only appeared freshly repaired, but work had begun to reinforce the palisade with additional logs to thicken the defenses, including areas where platforms would be constructed to mount ballistae and catapults. The Legionnaires of Beartrap Fortress had help in these efforts as the troops from Skywoad Keep left behind one of their own regiments when the rest departed to return to their own fortress.

Coldiron did wonder if the Legion would start getting more reinforcements from the Heartland soon. So many troops had been redeployed to the center of Equestria to deal with problems in the Heartland, yet with the resurgence of the ursan threat and the addition of the Lurkers it seemed to Coldiron that the Legion couldn’t afford to leave the Western Barrier Lands under protected. News from the Heartland was sparse, however, so there was no telling when word would be received if or when they’d get more troops.

With a long, easing breath she and a few fellow Legion ponies, including Coco, set down a large tree that’d been felled from the forest. Set down in the courtyard the large trunk of wood would be descended upon by another team of Legionnaires to cut the trunk into the parts needed to build one of the new ballistae platforms. As Coldiron took a quick drink from a waterskin and poured some more of the sweetly cool liquid over her mane to clear some of the sweat she noticed a Legion pony rapidly trotting up from the main keep.

“Sergeant, Captain sent me to fetch you and Private Pommel,” the pony said once he was in earshot.

Coldiron and Coco exchanged looks, Coco showing a quick shrug with a unconcerned cast to her features. Much like Coldiron had done Coco had thrown herself into her tasks. The mare had at times seemed a bit too focused to Coldiron. She’d seen ponies react a lot of different ways to dealing with the pressures of warfare, and she was worried what Coco might’ve been keeping bottled up. Still she couldn’t deny that Coco had fought well and earned the respect that many of her fellow Legionnaires now showed the former seamstress. Coco had been granted the use of a claymore, the same blade she’d used to slay an ursan on the palisade, and Coldiron had seen the mare training with the sword even when she was supposed to be off duty.

The Legion stallion led her and Coco into the keep, passing by work crews scurrying left and right across the courtyard. The echo of hammers and saws faded once they were inside the keep itself, only to be replaced by the pounding of metal and wood from other ponies repairing the remaining damage to the keeps own walls. Going up to the top floor Coldiron blinked in surprise when she saw two other ponies standing outside the door to the Captain’s office.

“Oh hey! Coldiron, Coco, how’s it going?” asked Blossomforth, smiling brightly at the two of them. Next to her Trixie yawned, looking haggard as she smoothed over some errant strands of her mane. Coldiron didn’t think less of the mare for the bags under her eyes, knowing well that Trixie hadn’t been sleeping much.

“Going as well as could be expected,” said Coco, eyes flicking towards the door, “Any idea what this is about?”

“Not a clue.”

“Trixie is still on night duty and hopes this is important. Trixie’s tent is calling to her with sweet, siren songs of sleep.”

Coldiron turned to the stallion that’d led them there, “Thank you, Private, we’ll take it from here.”

He saluted to her, a gesture she quickly returned, before turning back to the other mares and the door. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough what the Captain wants.”

When she opened the door and they all shuffled inside Counter Charge looked up from a large scroll she’d been reading and gave them a curt nod. Recently promoted to Captain of Beartrap Fortress, Counter Charge seemed to Coldiron to be adapting well to her new role and rank. She was often as not out there working alongside the troops, but she took the needed time to ensure the ludicrous amount of paperwork to keep the fort going was also taken care of. Coldiron felt glad for her freshly minted superior, feeling that there could be no better replacement for the late Captain Runeward.

“Legionaries, at ease,” Counter Charge said after the four mares stood at attention and gave salutes. Coldiron stood at rest, waiting patiently to hear what this was about. Counter Charge’s hoof was tapping the scroll she’d been reading and Coldiron noticed off to the side of the desk was an open messenger scroll tube of the kind fast peagasi couriers carried.

Counter Charge’s eyes slowly scanned each of them in turn, then back to the scroll at her hooves.

“These are new orders passed down from the highest authority in the Legion, Prince Terrato himself. They authorize the formation of a new Special Task Force.”

Coldiron almost stuttered at that, her eyes bulging slightly. The Heartlander mares next to her all looked confused and Trixie asked, “What does that mean?”

Counter Charge smiled patiently, “Among the various branches of the Legion’s forces are specialized units. Special Operations are our elite squads for dealing with difficult tasks. Logistics Operations ensures all the Legion’s supply needs are met. Air Superiority Operations control all the Legion’s airship fleets.These are examples of Special Task Forces.”

There was a brief pause from the Captain, the blue coated mare having a look as if she herself was surprised by what she was saying, “Due to the reports we have given concerning the threat of the Lurkers the Prince has decided that a new Special Task Force will be needed to act as a counter unit. Underwatch Operations. It will be charged with the... monumental task of scouting the caverns and tunnels beneath all of Equestria, studying and analyzing the nature of the Lurker threat, and if need be engage and neutralize any such threats the Lurkers pose in the future.”

She leaned back in her seat, letting out a slow breath, “Because the four of you have the most direct experience dealing with the Lurkers you’ve been reassigned to this newly formed unit. Three of you, at any rate, with Private Blossomforth being in a unique position.”

Coldiron was still reeling from this news when Trixie stepped forward, brows furrowed, “Hold on a moment, can we just be reassigned like that? We have no say?”

“These are orders from the Prince,” Counter Charge said simply, though there was sympathy in her tone, “I would have wanted you mares to have some time to rest and recover more from your ordeals and ease into the more quiet and mundane parts of Legion life, but that is out of my hooves. The Prince wants this unit to have as much of an edge as it can against the Lurkers and the fact simply is that you mares are the only ones who have fought them more than once. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

“Um, you said there was something unique about me?” Blossomforth asked curiously.

“Yes. As it happens the Prince is not without some measure of... reasonableness. Because of your injuries, Private Blossomforth, you’ve been given a choice. You can either join Logistics Operations, in which case you’ll likely be assigned to their new office in Canterlot, or you can choose to join Underwatch Operations as a full field soldier.”

“What!?” Trixie exclaimed, “Why would she choose anything other than to go home!? She doesn’t have...” the former showmare snapped her jaws shut, looking pained as she cast an apologetic look at Blossomforth, “Trixie is sorry, she didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“Its fine, Trixie, really...” Blossomforth said, eyes turning distant as she looked upward at nothing, “I guess I really could go home. Logistics doesn’t sound hard, and I’d be back in Equestria.”

Counter Charge nodded, “It’d be boring work, but safe. Regardless of what you choose you’ll still have some time with your friends. An airship is arriving in a few days to transport you all to Canterlot. As it happens the Underwatch will be organizing in that city until a permanent headquarters for it can be decided upon.”

“Alright, so let me get this straight,” Blossomforth said, face still and pensive,”If I join up with the Logistics ponies, then my friends here will still be stuck fighting down there in the dark... without me?”

“Blossomforth, I don’t mean to sound harsh,” said Coco, “But without your wings could you still fight?”

Blossomforth glanced towards Coco, frowning, “I don’t know, but I’d be willing to try. Besides, we’d be stuck down in cramped tunnels and caves. Not like wings would help out much down there anyway.”

“Trixie thinks you should choose Logistics! It’d be safer. You needn't worry over us. Trixie will make sure nothing bad happens.”

“I appreciate it, Trixie. I do, really. But...” Blossomforth’s eyes shined with a determined light as she looked at Counter Charge, “I’ll join Underatch Operations. I made a promise to survive these four years with Trixie, and I’m not backing out on that by letting her and my friends go into danger alone. Wings or not, I can still fight.”

Coldiron’s chest tightened with the rising feeling of respect she felt for this pegasus, and she took a step forward, giving Counter Charge another salute, “Captain ma’am, I believe then that you have four Legionnaires ready and willing to take on this new assignment.”

Coco nodded as well, saluting, “Ursans or Lurkers, I will confront the enemies of peace in Equestria with my life!”

Trixie looked at the mares around her, a grimace on her face, but one that soon enough melted into a look no less determined than the one that was on Blossomforth. Her salute was a tad sloppy, but it was steady. “Trixie shall do what she must to keep these crazy mares alive until this is over.”

Blossomforth was grinning widely, a bit of moisture forming in her eyes as she stood beside her friends and saluted, “So, when does Underwatch Operations move out?”

Counter Charge, a respectful smile on her face, returned the four mares’ salutes and said, “You leave tomorrow morning to Canterlot. You’ll be reporting to Captain Windstriker.”

Coldiron noticed Trixie twitch slightly at that name and wondered why. She didn’t questioning it then, however, and instead asked Counter Charge, “Just how large is this new unit going to be?”

“The orders call for the formation of at least two regiments, with more to be formed as needed depending on the extent of the Lurker threat,” replied Counter Charge, “Legionnaires will be drawn from all the Barrier Lands, so you’ll be working with ponies from the north and south as well as our own western forces. Don’t be surprised if a few more ponies from Beartrap Fortress end up being called in. It’ll be up to Windstriker how she wants to organize her unit, but I suspect you’ll have many new comrades to meet.”

Counter Charge then stood from her chair, coming around her desk to stand in front of the four mares with a look of admiration and respect on her countenance.

“Sergeant Coldiron, it has been a true honor serving with you. The Underwatch will be lucky to have you among its ranks. As for the three of you,” she turned to look in turn at Trixie, Blossomforth, and Coco, “You’ve shown me that the Chosen of the Heartland have a courage within you that match, and maybe even surpasses, many of us among the Barrier Lands. You may not have chosen to join these wars, but I feel it may be ponies like you that one day end them.”

An airship arrived a mere two days later. The craft was an eight foot dirigible, its cigar shaped balloon painted a light shade of blue that matched the sky. Underneath the balloon was a nearly fifty foot long gondola that looked much like the hull of a sailing sloop if instead of sails its masts and rigging attached it to the balloon above. Legion ponies wearing thick leather jackets and wearing flight caps with goggles scurried over the airship’s top deck, tossing ropes to their Legion comrades on the ground who then tied the vessel down. Cargo was unloaded from a hatch that opened in the side of the gondola, exposing much of its cargo bay.. Once the unloading was finished one of the crewponies of the airship met with four mares who trotted to the loading ramp of the airship.

Trixie was wearing a clean, light leather jacket, the uniform of a fully fledged battlemage of the Legion. She had a dagger sheathed at her hip and a pair of light saddlebags slung across her withers. Her one good eye looked over the airship intenty.

Next to Trixie, Coldiron was similarly dressed, taking a deep breath that misted in a cold morning air with small white vapors. She didn’t mind the chill air much, letting it brace her for the day. Noticing that Trixie was giving the airship a pensive look Coldiron found herself smirking slightly. “Ever flown on one of these before?”

“We do have airships in Equestria. Used less for war and more for tourism,” said Trixie, who then cleared her throat and said nervously, “But, no Trixie has never flown on one.”

Coldiron kept her chuckle to herself, “Have no fear, Legion airships are very well maintained and crewed with skillful ponies. Crashes almost never happen.”

Trixie blanched.

“Hard to believe we’re heading back so soon,” said Coco Pommel. Her chainmail armor clinked slightly as the mare shifted, adjusting the straps of the large scabbard on her back that held her claymore. A large saddlebag on her right flank contained the parts to assemble her crossbow if she needed it, among other supplies.

“Hey, maybe we can get a little leave time so I can show you around some of my old haunts!” said Blossomforth. She was clad in a set of leather armor that was heavier than what she used to wear. It was still flexible and light for her light pegasus form, but with no wings the armor also was thicker for better protection, since she was not so concerned with being weighted down anymore. A spear was hanging from its harness across one flank and a lighter hoof held crossbow across the other.

“I somehow doubt we will have much time for leave while we're in Canterlot,” said Coldiron, “The Underwatch will form quickly, I imagine, and I wouldn’t be surprised if we were deployed within the week.... to wherever we’ll be needed to find and deal with the Lurkers.”

“Yeesh, Cold, lets think positive for a bit. You’ll be seeing Equestria for the first time! That should be cool.”

“True, I will enjoy seeing this land that I’ve defended all my life.”

The airship crewpony cleared her throat, “Are you mares ready to go? We’re unloaded and can get underway soon as your flanks are on deck.”

“Yes, we’re-” Coldiron said, but was soon cut off by a female voice.

“Waaaait!”

Eyes turned to see a tall, gangly pale coated mare galloping up to them, her head of two toned blue mane bouncing. Allie Way, breathing hard, and wearing a leather battlemage coat and saddlebags, skidded to a halt before them. She looked nervous, even embarrassed, as she struggled to catch her breath from her run.

“Allie Way? What are you doing here?” asked Trixie.

The unicorn in question smiled sheepishly as she stood at attention and gave a haphazard salute, “I spoke with Captain Counter Charge yesterday after you all told me where you were going and... uh... I volunteered to help.”

“Volunteered?” Coldiron asked. Allie Way hastily floated out a small missive from her saddlebag and floated it over to Coldiron. She read the note briefly, recognizing the hoofwriting as Counter Charges.

~She practically begged to go with you lot. I’ve given her a letter to hoof over to Windstriker that recommends her. Figured any mare with the stones to charge an ursan Warchief has earned some small favors. Besides, it takes three unicorns to form a proper spell array. Look after each other. I’ll save a bottle of rum for when I see you next, Sergeant.~

Coldiron laughed lightly, putting the missive in one of her coat pockets, “Well, welcome along, Private Allie Way. You know what you’re getting into?”

Allie Way nodded, through her eyes were wide, “I do, ma’am!”

Blossomforth flashed a toothy smile and slapped Allie Way on the back, “Alright! Now all we gotta do is equip you with a set of bowling balls and we’re set!”

The airship mare cleared her throat loudly, “Now, are you all ready to embark?”

They were, and within minutes the five mares were standing on the airship’s top deck as it rose high into the clear morning sky. It swiftly angled to a course leading east, flying swiftly on a stiff wind that tussled the manes of the ponies on the deck. Down below the thick forests around Beartrap Forest fell away like a carpet of thick moss. The airship’s speed was impressive, driven by a quartet of magically driven propellers that carried it at a brisk pace that ate up the miles.

The journey that had taken Coldiron and her comrades the span of two days flew by in the span of a mere hour, and the township of Arrow Vale could be seen below. There was a bustle of activity in the town’s streets, it’s surviving population returned with the aid of Legion soldiers who had taken up garrison in the town. The tunnels beneath had been barricaded, and the townsponies were alert for the Lurker’s return, but they were getting back to their lives. Strong Back was down there, she knew, though last she’d heard from the young stallion he’d been talking of signing up with the Legion.

Coldiron gazed at the town, her eyes trailing in the direction of the cabin and barn of her family’s farmstead. She could almost make out her bothers out in the fields and wondered if they were looking up at the fast Legion airship passing overhead.

She felt a hoof on her withers and she looked over to see Coco gazing at her kindly, “Bit for your thoughts?”

Coldiron’s eyes shifted back to the distant dot of her family’s farm, rapidly passing. She could make out the swaying green form of the peach tree both her parents now rested under. It somehow looked to Coldiron like the tree was a lone sentry, guarding the farm from harm.

“There is a lot I’ve left behind me,” Coldiron said, “A mother, a father, and a husband. Also no small number of comrades. All of them taken by war. Not long ago I thought that showing any of my... feelings, about those losses was a shameful thing. A sign of weakness, to just cry in front of other ponies.”

She looked back at Coco, letting a shade of a smile onto her face, “Never thought it’d be a source of strength, instead. I think perhaps that is why you Equestrians are stronger than many of us in the Legion believed. You don’t hide from what you feel.”

Coco returned the smile with one of her own, though Coldiron could see the mare had a distant look about her, “I think both of us have a lot to learn from each other, Equestrian and Legion alike. I know I wouldn’t have been awakened to things about myself if I hadn’t been drafted.”

Coco’s voice lowered to a whisper, “I still don’t know if some of things I’ve learned about myself are good or not.”

With a firm hoof Coldiron gave Coco a quick hug, which clealry caught Coco off guard. For her part Coldiron coughed awkwardly and stepped back from the hug, ears twitching nervously. “Um, sorry, you did tell me once that hugs are how you Equestrians comfort friends, right?”

Coco, still blinking, said, “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

“A-anyway, just don’t doubt yourself, Coco Pommel. You’re a mare of rare strength, inside and out. Any time you need to talk, I shall lend my ear to listen. Whatever you fear about yourself, you needn’t face it alone.”

“Thank you. I will.”

“Heeeeyyy, whatcha two talking about so intimate and close?” asked Blossomforth as she trotted from across the deck, Trixie and Allie Way right behind her.

Coco and Coldiron shared looks and quickly looked away from each other.

“Nothing of importance. Mere small talk,” said Coldiron.

“Yup, just chatting away as the scenery passes by,” said Coco.

Trixie glanced around, grunting, “Trixie can’t see much scenery. Well, half the scenery.”

“You adapting to your whole... eye thing?” asked Coco.

The showmare’s grimace was mild as she floated from her saddlebag, of all things, a small deck of cards. “Trixie borrowed these from one of the soldiers back at the fort. To practice sleight of hoof. One eye may see nothing but silly blurs, but Trixie is a mare of talent! She shall adapt and get her tricks back iin order to compensate for the slight issue with her sight. Once this stupid war is done with Trixie has a show business to return to!”

“Which I’m still totally helping with!” declared Blossomforth firmly, “Wings or no wings I can still pull some tricks of my own to help with the show.”

Coldiron quirked an eyebrow, “What kind of tricks?”

Blossomforth looked around at her fellow mares, “What, I seriously didn’t show any of you? Check this out!”

The pegasus stood up on her hind legs for a second, only to bend over backwards until her forehooves touched the deck. Then she kept going, folding further and further back until her head was sticking out from between her hind legs while the rest of her body took on the shape like a donut. She rested her chin on her forehooves, which were now in front of her hind hooves, and she grinned as the other mares gapped at her.

“Pretty neat, huh?”

Allie Way coughed, feace turning cherry red, “Y-yeah, uh, that’s...um, something.”

Coco blinked, “Blossomforth, what is your spinal cord made out of?”

“Awesome?” the pegasus suggested.

Trixie coughed, “Silly putty, Trixie suspects.”

“Can you fold yourself back to normal?” asked Allie Way curiously.

“Yeah, no problem!” Blossomforth declared, starting to twist and bend herself back the other way, only to frown as she ran into trouble getting her forelegs back underneath her head. “Umm... eventually?”

As the pegasus continued to struggle getting herself back to normal, with a combination of giggles and alarm from her surrounding friends, Coldiron found herself laughing with a relaxed contentment that surprised her. She’d survived a horrible battle, buried her father, and was looking towards a dangerous future facing an enemy with unknown schemes. Yet despite that she could not remember a time she’d felt more steady of heart.

She turned her eyes to the east, where the landscape was vast and unfamiliar, where distant mountains hid what had once been a realm no Legion pony could enter, yet had been charged with the task to defend. Whether it’d been right or wrong to bring that peaceful land into the war the Legion fought Coldiron could not longer clearly say, but she could say with certainty that she was honored to have met these ponies; these Legionaries of Equestria.

She knew that, together, they could face whatever was to come.

Author's Note

And so completes "Book 1" of the Legionnaires of Equestria. For those curious I do have an overarching plan for the series, probably contained within the span of two more books. This first story was all about getting to know the main characters and antagonists and putting our heroins through their initial baptism of fire among the Legion. The next story will focus upon learning more about the Aranea and the deepening conflict with this relatively new species. For any fans of Dungeons and Dragons be prepared for a very "underdark" style adventure with lots of exploration and action in the deep, dark caverns underneath the world. As for when I'll be getting the second story ready, it may take a bit, as I have a couple other stories I need to focus on, but rest assured I won't be leaving this by the wayside. You'll be seeing these mares in action again, as members of the Underwatch.

In the meantime, I want to thank everyone who's read along to this point and hope you folks enjoyed the ride. As always let me know what you thought, not just of the epilogue, but the story as a whole. Any critiques are eagerly welcomed.

'Till next time.

Chapter 1: Drafted

Chapter 1: Drafted

Trixie Lulamoon’s hooves slashed through the puddle of alley water as she galloped without heed to where she was going. She just knew she had to run! She’d managed to remain hidden for a couple of days, but now that she was found her only chance to was run until she lost her pursuers. Her star adorned light violet magician’s cape fluttered behind her and her pointed hat had nearly fallen off her head multiple times in her wild flight from her pursuers. The light in the alley was dim as the Canterlot evening was quickly turning into full on dusk, causing Trixie to trip and stumble over a garbage can and go sprawling to the cold cobblestone ground.

“Auugh…ow…so insufferable! The Great and Powerful Trixie should not have to be fleeing for her life! Again!”

“I heard her! She’s down this way!” came a deep masculine voice followed by the sound of jingling chain and the hoof falls of many ponies galloping down the alley behind her.

Trixie’s eyes went wide with fear as she forced herself back to her hooves and resumed her desperate escape, skidding as she scrambled to make an abrupt turn at a bend in the alley. However her haste was unnecessary, as just dozen yards further and the alley ended in a wall, leaving her trapped.

“No!” Trixie looked around, trying one of the doors to the buildings around her, only to find them all locked. She cursed her foul luck. The sound of heavy metal shod hooves approaching her sent a chill of panic into her and Trixie quickly channeled magic into her horn. Beneath her hat her unicorn horn became wreathed in a light violet glow as she cast her spell. Her magic was weakened, having been used often the past two days of her attempts to keep hidden, and she prayed it held out for just little longer to get her out of this situation. Her horn ached with strain as she wove a spell of invisibility around herself, her form shimmering into nothingness as light bent around her.

A few seconds later four ponies entered the dead end of the alley. They were grim looking ponies, three earth ponies clad in thick metal barding and chainmail, stern helmets covering most of their faces. The armor was so thick it was difficult to discern the coat colors of these ponies, all of them just metal clad clones of each other to Trixie’s eyes. The fourth pony, however, was a stark red unicorn mare with a short cropped brown mane, wearing a form fitting leather coat. The unicorn glared down the alley with stone gray eyes, then cast that glare at the lead earth pony.

“Legionnaire, did you not say you saw the Chosen run down this alley?”

“I did Sergeant, on my honor I swear it to you. She must be hiding.”

“Hmph, we shall see. You two, “the red mare jabbed a hoof at the earth ponies on either side of the one she questioned, “Secure the alley entrance at once.”

As the two followed their orders Trixie watched with her breath held in her throat as the red unicorn mare stalked down the alley towards her. Trixie was focusing all of her concentration on the invisibility spell she’d cast, not daring to move or breathe, lest she give herself away or lose concentration and drop the spell. The pain in her horn only continued to intensify. Normally a spell like this was no problem for Trixie, but after two days of continuous use of magic to dodge these patrolling ponies Trixie was at the limit of her magical endurance.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as the red unicorn got closer and closer. Trixie knew she’d need to step aside, but would that small movement expose her position? She was barely holding the invisibility spell and even a little movement would create faint shimmer in the air. Did she dare risk it? Soon she wouldn’t have a choice; the mare was almost about to bump into her.

Just as the red mare was about to brush shoulders with Trixie she risked taking a quick step to the side. There was a clinking noise as Trixie, to her horror, realized her hoof had brushed against a stray bottle that’d been discarded in the alley. Before Trixie could react to her error the red mare rounded on Trixie’s position and her horn glowed a bright gray that matched her eyes. Trixie felt the raw impact as her body was slammed back against the wall from a burst of magical telekinesis, the air getting knocked out of her lungs and her invisibility dropping instantly.

The red mare smirked, “Clever, Chosen, but this chase is over. You should not have fled the draft. The Legion shall take its due from the Heartland, no matter how its little ponies may kick and scream. Of course how such a little slip of a unicorn like you could serve the Legion as anything other than fodder is beyond me, but if you manage to take a wolven bolter shot in place of a true Legionnaire you’d have served your purpose.”

Trixie was somewhat glad this mare liked to talk. Admittedly it was a trait Trixie shared with her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take advantage of it. She used the few seconds the mare had used to speak so derisively towards Trixie to regain her breath and her magical focus.

“The Great and Powerful Trixie is not fodder!” she growled, “And she is not going to be carted off to fight in some pointless war for a Prince she’s never heard of!”

Light poured from her horn and in an instant the alleyway was filled with harmless yet incredibly bright and loud fireworks; one of Trixie’s signature spells. She braced herself, closing her eyes as she’d set them off. The Legionnaires had not been prepared. The red unicorn magi had been trained to repel magical attacks like fireballs or bolts of lightning, but something like a relatively harmless burst of sound and light was unexpected.

As the Legionnaires all had to shield their eyes, stunned against the cacophony of sound and light, Trixie barreled past them, going back the way she’d come. She hoped she might catch the two ponies who’d been sent to the entrance off guard as well, but to her dismay those two were waiting for her just around the bend, thoroughly blocking her exit.

Trixie charged her horn with another spell of fireworks, about to unleash it on the grim faced Legionnaires before her, but just as the spell was leaving her horn she felt a weight drop on her back, grinding her into the ground. The cold hard cobbles scratched up her face and knees, and from the coppery taste in her mouth followed by the sharp pain on her tongue she thought she’d bit herself. The warm weight on her back shifted, wrenching Trixies hooves behind her back, and Trixie felt a cold metal device slipping onto her horn.

Trixie was rolled over to find a beige pegasus mare with a long, wavy white mane and green eyes leaning over her. The pegasus wore black leather barding lined with metal studs, a small crossbow clipped to her chest.

“Well, you’ve led us a merry chase these past couple of days, Trixie Lulamoon,” the pegasus mare said as Trixie tried to cast another spell, but found her magic being…blocked.

“Oh, don’t bother. That device on your horn sends a steady stream of anti-magic into your horn. No more spells for you.”

The red unicorn mare arrived from the back of the alley, looking extremely pissed if the veins on her forehead were any indication. She fixed Trixie with a near murderous glare, coming over and smacking Trixie across the face hard enough to rattle teeth.

“Hey, that’s enough of that, Sergeant,” said the beige pegasus, “No roughing up the prisoner.”

“Yes ma’am,” said the unicorn, saluting with a hoof pounding to her chest, “Shall we take her off your hooves?”

“Oh, I’ll deliver her to the processing station myself, I think.”

Trixie, still squirming slightly despite the daze the hoof strike had left her in managed to shout an indignant, “You can’t do this! Trixie hasn’t done anything wrong! You have no right!”

The red unicorn laughed darkly but the beige pegasus simply replied in a calm, even tone, “We have every right, by the command of both our Prince Terrato, and your Princesses Celestia and Luna. The Legion and the Heartland has joined, and you Chosen must accept the draft. It’s as simple as that, Trixie Lulamoon. Your name was drawn, and now, like it or not, you’re either going to be a part of the Legion, or you’ll face the penalty for desertion. For us from the Barrier Lands that would be death. You Heartlanders get treated a bit more lightly, but I somehow doubt you’d find life in a dungeon all that agreeable either.”

Trixie’s teeth ground together and there were tears in her eyes, both of fear and frustration, as the beige pegasus hauled her to her hooves and in short order the other Legionnaires placed manacles around her legs that would allow her to walk, but prevent her from running.

“Captain Windstriker, will there be anything else?” asked the red unicorn.

“No, Sergeant Hot Coals, you may return to your duties elsewhere,” said Windstriker.

With a last scornful look towards Trixie, Hot Iron ordered her troops to form up and they marched back out to the streets, presumably to resume patrolling Canterlot for any trouble. Trixie was left with Captain Windstriker, who nudged Trixie with a hoof and nodded towards the street.

“Come along then. If you don’t give me any more trouble I’ll make sure you’re not roughed up too badly at the station.”

“Hmph, as if Trixie could give you so-called Legionaries any trouble with this thing on my horn,” muttered Trixie dejectedly, hanging her head.

Canterlot was much the same grand and beautiful city that Trixie had always admired, but somehow its pristine streets and vast, striking towers felt… tainted to her now. The simple knowledge that these monstrous ponies of the Legion were occupying the city made everything somehow look duller and less friendly to Trixie’s eyes. At every corner there were hard eyed ponies in armor, watching the passing citizenry with their iron gazes. Where once the streets were always filled with amiable chatter from happy ponies shopping or enjoying the many outdoor cafes, now there were few who took to the streets, and those who did only did so to quickly trot from one place to another, often looking at the ground rather than risk locking eyes with any of the Legion who patrolled.

The whole world seemed turned upside down to Trixie Lulamoon. Just a short while ago, less than a month really, and Trixie had been living her normal exciting life of attempting to show the world what a fantastic and amazing magician she was. Aside from a brief… hiccup in the township of Ponyville a little ways back Trixie had been nailing her performances across Equestria, in her mind bringing delight to hundreds! After the Ponyville affair, and an unfortunate encounter with an Ursa Minor and a certain purple unicorn who will remain nameless, Trixie had run into a bit of a snag with her magician career. Apparently someponies thought she was a fraud! Just because she exaggerated a teensy little bit about some of her past deeds! It was called an act for a reason, wasn’t it!? Well, she’d gotten good at dodging tomatoes at any rate, and she was confident she’d be able to get her show back up to speed no time!

That was until the Legion came. Trixie still had a hard time believing it all! According to the Princess herself, from Celestia’s own mouth, the land of Equestria had for countless centuries been separated from a series of border regions called the Barrier Lands, a realm where the ponies there were ruled by Celestia and Luna’s brother, Prince Terrato. More than that, these ponies largely formed a massive army known as the Legion that battled daily against ferocious beasts that surrounded Equestria practically on all sides! It was all just too fantastic to be believed, yet the proof walked the streets beside Trixie!

More than that, recent events, to which Trixie knew very little, had caused Princess Celestia to lower the barrier between Equestria and the Barrier Lands and… and invite the Legion in to turn everypony’s lives into a nightmare! Or at least that’s how Trixie viewed it. The Legion was allowed to draft citizens of Equestria, which they called the Chosen, to force them to fight in their war! It was ridiculous! Ludicrous! A violation of every Equestrian citizens rights as free ponies!

Yet the Princesses were allowing it. Legion soldiers were scouring every settlement, town, and city to gather up ponies whose names were drawn in the draft. Thousands of Equestrian ponies, the vast majority of whom had never picked up a weapon or even dreamed of doing anything violent in their lives were going to be forced into the ranks of the Legion to leave their homes and battle horrific beasts in distant lands.

And Trixie Lulamoon was among those drafted.

Of course she’d tried to run. Who wouldn’t? She had no desire at all to fight anypony, or anything! She certainly didn’t want to die in some forsaken land far from home! Not that Trixie had a home anymore, per se. Hoofington hadn’t been home for a long time, and her home had just been the open road wherever she’d decided to take her show. But it was the principle of the thing! Why should Trixie have to risk her neck in a war that had nothing to do with her!? Why should anypony?

“By Terrato’s broken horn do you have to keep giving me the stink eye?” asked Captain Windstriker with a laugh, “You’d think I’d killed your parents or something. You’re the one that decided to run.”

“Why not?” asked Trixie, “Your war has nothing to do with Trixie!”

Windstriker sighed, and Trixie, for a moment, thought she saw a look of genuine sympathy pass over the pegasus mare’s face, “It has everything to do with you. You and every Chosen who’s lived in Equestria. You’ve lived your whole lives protected by us. The Legion has bled for centuries to keep this land safe. Do you honestly believe it’s fair that you Chosen get to live in peace while we in the Barrier Lands suffer and die every day on the fangs and claws of those who’d kill you without a second thought were the Legion not there to stop them?”

Trixie shook her head, nickering in denial, “It’s not our fault where we’re born. Fair or not it doesn’t mean you have the right to drag ponies from their homes and force them to fight!”

“You think so? What would you have us do, then? Politely ask for volunteers?”

“Trixie… doesn’t know,” she admitted.

Trixie had nothing else she could say. She was desperate, and scared. The manacles on her legs felt like they weighed ten times as much as they actually did, her every step feeling like she was walking towards a gallows.

They neared a sizable three story building that had once been a hotel but was now reappointed as a Legion military station for this sector of Canterlot. A flag had been placed over the main entryway and the doors were flanked by guards. Before they entered Windstriker paused, glancing at Trixie with a calm gaze, “I’ll admit, a part of me sympathizes with you Chosen. But the Legion needs you, if both the Heartland and the Barrier Lands are to survive. Like it or not Equestria is in the fight. You can either waste time complaining about it or you can accept things as they are and make the best of it.”

“Why do you even care?” asked Trixie, but Windstriker just shook her head as she led Trixie into the station.

There were Legion ponies scurrying about inside, mostly going about official business, and Captain Windstriker was not challenged more than once as she entered with Trixie in tow. There was some paperwork filed, and a brief bit of formal questioning, but in short order Trixie was led into the station’s basement which had been renovated into a makeshift prison. That struck Trixie as odd, actually, because Canterlot did have a prison or two of its own in the rare event actual crime occurred in the streets. Why was she being brought here? Shouldn’t this mare have just given Trixie over to be thrown in one of the larger prisons?

Windstriker led Trixie not into one of the cells but into a side room that looked like it’d once been a large broom closet but was now a small office with a desk and a couple of sitting cushions. Trixie, looking confused, took a seat at Windstriker’s gesture.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re either not in a cell right now or being beaten to within an inch or your life by Legion soldiers looking to kill some time,” Windstriker began, sitting behind a desk that Trixie had to assume belonged to the Captain. Beige hooves folding in front of her snout on the desk, Windstriker looked at Trixie squarely, “The answer is simple. You’d be wasted in a cell. You evaded our patrols for two days before we caught up to you, and you display some impressive illusion spells; a branch of magic few Legion unicorns are all that practiced in. So here’s the deal, accept the draft willingly.”

Trixie waited while Windstriker paused, and she blinked a few times before saying, “That’s it?”

“That’s it?”

Trixie coughed, “Normally when one offers a deal one tends to list a benefit to the party in question.”

“The benefit is that you don’t spend the rest of your life behind bars, or find your fate at the end of a noose,” Windstriker said bluntly, “I’m only speaking to you because I have an eye for talent, and think you have something to offer the Legion. Normally you’d already be facing the lash for running. I can smooth that out, however, and see you sent to join one of the draftee columns marching to the Barrier Lands before the day is out. No punishment for running. No lashes. But you serve; willingly.That’s my offer. Promise to me that you’ll willingly fight for the Legion, and I make your transfer fast, smooth, and without further inquiry or incident.”

Trixie stared at the pegasus before her, feeling as if the walls were closing in upon her. A bleakness rose in her chest, and she truly realized then that there wasn’t any way out for her. This was her reality, and there was no escaping it. Not yet, at any rate. If she refused she’d be jailed, beaten, perhaps executed. But if she accepted? Maybe somewhere down the road she could find a chance to get away. What other options did she have, really?

With a sinking heart Trixie nodded her head, lowering her eyes to hide her tears.

“So… so be it. Trixie accepts.”

“Good. One last question, though. What’s with the third pony reference?”

“Hmm?”

“You know, ‘Trixie this’, and ‘Trixie that’? That part of some regional dialect?” asked Windstriker with a raised eyebrow, “I’ve been working with many of you Chosen since coming to the Heartland and I haven’t heard another pony talk like that.”

Trixie sighed, her thoughts going back to an apartment in Hoofington, and the visage of a kind faced but tired mare. She shook her head, “No. Trixie just likes to talk this way. It… means a lot to Trixie. It’s a personal matter.”

“I see. Well, fair warning ahead of time, you’ll want to ditch that mode of speech, otherwise you’ll end up in trouble with your commanding officers.”

“Trixie will… consider it.”

Windstriker shrugged her wings and brought out some papers from a drawer in her desk, “Suit yourself. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now then, these are your draft papers. Sign them and you’ll officially become a member of the Legion. Lucky you, Equestrians get a deal that means they only have to serve for four years. For us in the Barrier Lands it’s a life commitment. Try to remember that. To us, to serve the Legion is life. I want you to respect what it means to sign your name on that line.”

A quill was placed before Trixie, and with a trembling in her hooves she steadied the papers that were slid over to her, and with her magic she raised the quill and dipped it in an offered inkwell. With a moment of hesitance, realizing that she might never see Canterlot again… that indeed she might never see Equestria again, Trixie lowered the quill and signed on the dotted line.

Five days later…

Trixie had never imagined mountains so large. She’d seen a number of mountainous regions in her time, including of course the huge mountain Canterlot had been built upon, but the sheer, raw size of the mountain range that dominated the Western Barrier Lands left Trixie utterly speechless when she’d first beheld it. Like a sheer, jagged wall of forest covered stone teeth the mountain range marched from the north horizon to the south. There were six monolithic peaks that could be seen piercing the cloud cover, so huge that despite the fact that hundreds of miles separated each piece, these volcanoes were still visible. The Six Talons, they were called. Each supposedly home to a clan of the ursans, the huge bear-like monsters that inhabited the mountains region and were the present threat to the Barrier Lands in the west.

Ursans, the monsters Trixie would be called upon to fight alongside her ‘fellow’ Legionnaires. From what she’d heard she and the other draftees from the Heartland were being sent to a place in the northern region of the Western Barrier Lands, where the ursans were generally inactive. After some time spent in this quiet posting they would then, gradually, be sent to more dangerous areas. Regardless, it meant eventually Trixie would have to fight for her life. She was not looking forward to this.

She still didn’t feel right, wearing the plain leather coat upon her body that was her standard issue armor as a recruit. It was surprisingly good protection against the cold winter air. Though the ground wasn’t covered with snow it was slightly frosted from the chill of the previous night.

Once training was finished the recruits would be given more specialized equipment depending on which branch of the Legion they’d be serving in, but for now the thick leather coats sufficed for the hundred or so Equestrian draftees being marched down the rocky road between sharp foothills, their destination a place ominously called Beartrap Fortress. Tall pine trees grew thickly along either side of the road, taller than many trees Trixie had seen in Equestria. The branches swayed and creaked a steady wind that blew in from the west.

A platoon of thirty Legion troops accompanied the band of recruits, the Legionnaires tense as they led the Equestrians along the winding road. Trixie noticed each Legion pony was alert, and rarely chatted amongst themselves. Unlike her fellow Equestrians, many of whom quietly whispered to each other as to avoid getting yelled at by the Legion ponies.

“D-do you think they’ll expect us to… to fight right away?” a pony next to Trixie asked her. Trixie looked over at this pony, taking in the sight of her. She was a pegasus mare, with a white coat that was stained a bit brown from the dust of the road. She had a vibrant lime green and neon pink mane and tail, and her pleasant face was marked with a few faint freckles. Her green eyes were tense and fearful, but also tinged with a light of hope. She was wearing the same basic leather armored coat Trixie wore, but where Trixie was unarmed save for a simple dagger that’d been issued to her, this mare wore a short spear on her back that the mare seemed quite uncomfortable with.

Trixie, not sure what else to do, shrugged.

“Trixie doesn't know for certain. This fortress is supposed to be quiet. Trixie has only heard we may fight rare bandits or raids, but mostly this will be training until they think we’re ready to fight.”

The mare blinked at Trixie, not looking entirely put at ease, “I hope we get more training. The two weeks they gave us back... back home was barely enough for me to learn how to hold this spear. Huh, weird, I don’t remember seeing you during that training. Are you from another group?”

Trixie realized that indeed her situation was a bit different. Windstriker had pulled strings to send Trixie out with a new band of trained recruits that had gotten a crash course in Legion weaponry and tactics back in Equestria. Trixie’s own lack of training was to be explained away as her having ‘special auxiliary skills’. Illusion magic, to be precise. Windstriker had said the less Trixie said on the matter the better and to just roll with what whomever was in charge decided upon. Trixie smiled sheepishly at the mare.

“Trixie, uh, well Trixie kind of got sent out here immediately after they snagged her. Maybe somepony didn’t file the right paperwork? Seems to Trixie these Legion types aren’t much on the ink and paper end of things.”

The mare laughed. It was forced but it was clear she’d been looking for any excuse to just break the tension, “Heh, yeah, that’s for sure. I’m Blossomforth. So you’re name is Trixie I take it?”

More like Tried Hooves, honestly, Trixie thought to herself blearily, her legs aching beyond belief. She was used to long hauls pulling her wagon, but she’d always had a town to look forward to stay at within a day or two of travel back in Equestria. The march out into the Western Barrier Lands had involved little rest and no beds. Trixie managed a friendly enough smile.

“Yes. Trixie Lulamoon, magician extraordinaire and master of the amazing! Often known as the Great and Powerful Trixie, but just Trixie is acceptable. If you want to add the Great and Powerful though, Trixie certainly would not mind!”

“Hey!” a gruff earth pony Legionnaire shouted, “Keep it down back there!”

Trixie and Blossomforth exchanged looks and lowered their heads. Blossomforth whispered, “It’s nice to meet you Trixie. I hope they’ll keep us together, but from my training so far I think they divide ponies up by race. Pegasi like me get put into Reconnaissance, and I think unicorns end up in the Battlemage division.”

Trixie snorted, “Battlemage? Trixie hopes they don’t expect her to throw any fireballs. The last time Trixie tried to use a fire spell she nearly set her wagon ablaze.”

Blossomforth giggled, then blinked, her head tilting, “Wagon… wait, you’re that magician who was in Ponyville last year, aren’t you?”

Trixie almost froze in her tracks. She hadn’t realized Blossomforth was a Ponyvillian. A pulse of shame and fear washed through her as she looked away from Blossomforth, ears flattening against her head. She missed her hat and cape. She could use something to hide her face with.

“Trixie… may have been in Ponyville at some point, yes. But Trixie assures you that whatever you’ve heard is malicious lies and scandal! Trixie would never put a town in danger! A-and she fought against the Ursa Minor to the best of her mighty ability! Bound the Ursa with ropes and rained lightning down upon it! She would’ve won if that blasted purple one hadn’t interfered!”

Blossomforth stared at Trixie for a few seconds as if Trixie had spontaneously grown a plant from her head, then shook her head as if to clear cobwebs, blinking rapidly, “Um, well, I was just going to say, I liked your show.”

“You… did?” Trixie stared, wide eyed at Blossomforth for a moment, then quickly held her head high, grinning, “But of course you did! It was only the most magnificent magical showcase to ever grace your fair village! My talents are truly without compare.”

Blossomforth hid her laugh with a hoof, eyes closed in mirth, “Modesty isn’t one of those talents I’m seeing.”

Trixie was still trying to figure out if Blossomforth was making fun of her or not when a sharp call rang out from the Legionnaires in the lead of the colum.

“Company, halt!”

The procession stuttered to an uneven stop, most of the drafted Equestrian ponies looking around skittishly as the experienced Legion ponies around them readied weapons and started to look even more alert and tense. Blossomforth lowered her head, fearfully whispering to Trixie, “What do you think is happening? We already had the one break we’re allowed each day, so it can’t be that.”

Trixie was equally curious. They usually only stopped once in the middle of the day for a brief ten minutes to eat and relieve themselves, or at least that had been the pattern for the past five days of marching. She had no idea why they were being ordered to stop now. Looking ahead she saw a pair of pegasus Legion ponies fluttering down to the Legionnaire in charge; an earth pony Sergeant by the name of Counter Charge. Counter Charge’s dusky blue fur was contrasted by flaring yellow mane, cut short like so many ponies kept their manes in the Legion. Trixie feared she might be forced into cutting her own carefully tended mane, but that was a low priority on her list of worries as she watched the two pegasi quickly converse with Counter Charge.

Counter Charge spoke rapidly to a few gathered Legion ponies near her, and Trixie watched those ponies rapidly form a vanguard at the head of the column, weapons drawn. Meanwhile Counter Charge turned to the hundred or so Equestrian recruits and spoke in a loud voice that carried across to all of them.

“Recruits, Beartrap Fortress is a few more miles ahead of us,” Counter Charge said, her voice grim and filled with steel hardness, “However our scouts have spotted a raiding party of ursans in the hills northwest of our position.”

There was a note in Counter Charge’s voice that Trixie recognized as barely concealed worry and disbelief. Trixie could tell the presence of ursans in the area had caught the Legion ponies by surprise. Which made sense, if this northern area was supposed to be generally quiet and safe compared to other areas on the front. But Counter Charge was hiding her worry well, keeping a calm and measured tone as she continued to explain the situation.

“We are double marching to the fortress. If our luck holds we can get past the ursans before they know we’re here. If not, we will have to fight our way through. Stick together. Keep moving. Understood?”

For even the fearful Equestrians the proper response had been drilled into them in the two weeks of their training, save for Trixie who looked around a bit confused as those around here said, “Sir yes sir!”

Weapons were readied and the column began to move at a swift pace down the road. Blossomforth was trembling as she reached with her mouth to pulled over the spear to her front and gingerly held it as she began to use her wings to hover along the ground. Blossomforth’s hooves were trembling, the spear shaking in her grip. Trixie watched her with a worried frown, “Can you really use that thing?”

Blossomforth gave Trixie a gulping, nervous glance, “I… I hope so.”

It was the pegasi that were armed with spears, whereas Trixie noticed the earth ponies in the column were given one of two weapon types; huge harnesses mounted with heavy crossbows, or long bladed swords Trixie had heard the Legion ponies call ‘claymores’. Unicorns had daggers like she did, and before long the Legion ponies were corralling the Equestrians into formations of like tribe. Earth ponies formed either the exterior of the rectangular formation the group took, these armed with the claymores, or loaded their heavy crossbows and formed a firing line behind their sword armed brethrine.

Meanwhile unicorns were pushed towards center in groupings of three, formed up behind the crossbow armed earth ponies.

Pegasi were in between these groups, set up in small squadrons of five who could take to the air quickly to provide aerial support with their spears to whichever part of the line needed it.

This was all done in minutes and even the inexperienced Equestrians took to the task quickly. Part of this was simple drill, but Trixie understood a part of it was simple Equestrian cooperation. The ponies of Equestria were naturals at working together to common cause, and terrified or not, these recruits instinctively took to a herd mentality that allowed them to quickly find their place in the formation.

Trixie found herself teamed with a pair of unicorns, one an Equestrian and the other clearly a Legion unicorn. The Equestrian was a skittish, thin stallion who Trixie suspected was also from Canterlot, as he held himself with an air of disgust at all the dirt around him, and he kept brushing a hoof over his green mane as if trying to smooth it out. The Legion unicorn was a stout, short gray mare with a tied back brown mane and fierce, icy blue eyes.

Against her better judgment she leaned towards the Legion unicorn and asked, “What do we do if we’re attacked?”

The mare looked at Trixie as if Trixie were an especially slow and annoying foal, “Aim for the eyes. You can’t form a proper array with me without training, so just target what I target, and remember, the eyes. An ursans hide is too thick for weak spells to do anything to them.”

“We won’t be expected to… to use our hooves will we?” asked the stallion, his eyes wide.

“Ugh, just… just follow my lead and stop asking questions, and try not to die. Better yet, don’t get me killed,” the mare said, glowering.

Trixie’s enthusiasm, which had been nonexistent to begin with, was now at an all time low. She mentally ran over her repertoire of spells, trying to decide which ones might actually be useful against these ursans. From what little she had heard these creatures were basically large, bear-like… things. Her track record with things that matched that description was not good. She could try summoning a lightning cloud again. It might be effective than it’d been against the Ursa Minor. If not that, she had her firework spells. It wouldn’t hurt anything, but the flashing lights might distract them.

Trixie realized her legs were shaking as they marched and she clenched her teeth and shook her head in self denial. No, she couldn’t let herself be scared! She was the Great and Powerful Trixie! She had to stand firm, be brave, face the danger with her head held hi-

A roar of raw predatory fury and hunger echoed through the trees.

Trixie felt her heart skip a beat and all the blood drain from her face.

Author's Note

So here we have the first chapter in my fanwork tribute to a one of the stories that'd probably be sitting in my Top 10 MLP Fanfics list if I ever got around to making one. Upheaval is a neat setting and a pretty cool story for those of you out there who might dig lots of high fantasy and military action, one that has a pretty unique take on the cosmology of the MLP world. And as is often the case with me when I find a setting I like I can't help but want to write a story set in it. This story, while non-canon, is meant to follow as closely with the Upheaval canon stories as I can make them, while still allowing for me to follow my own plot lines. I'll be doing things here that might branch out in its own way, but fundamentally I want to keep the spirit of the Upheaval canon in mind and fully intend to work within the bounds of it as much as I can without sacrificing my own story ideas. Hopefully fans of the Upheaval stories will find something to dig here, and anyone who happens to like this story who hasn't checked out Upheaval will be intrigued enough to go take a look.

Anyways, thanks all for reading, and by all means feel free to leave any comments or critiques you might have.

Chapter 6: Face of the Enemy

Chapter 6: Face of the Enemy

The life of a performing magician had taught Trixie many skills over the years. It wasn’t all glamour and the cheers of adoring crowds. There were many nitty-gritty affairs that needed dealing with when one made one’s living by traveling long distances between towns. For all the Legion ponies gruff, superior attitudes they had one thing wrong; the Heartland of Equestria was not an entirely safe and friendly place. Trixie had needed to develop a strong sense of danger in order to survive some of the nastier back roads of Equestria, where worse than Timberwolves might dwell. Manticores, hydras, chimeras… Equestria was rife with deadly beasts that’d happily make a meal of an unwary traveler. Trixie knew when someplace wasn’t safe.

She certainly didn’t feel safe now.

Arrow Vale was not only deathly quiet, but it was permeated by a spine shuddering chill that Trixie was certain had nothing to do with the temperature. She felt eyes on her, and her instincts were shouting at her that those eyes were hungry.

Coldiron led them to the first house, stiff, alert, and horn glowing in preparation to cast. Trixie had magic flowing in her own horn, thinking of a few choice illusions she could toss in rapid succession. She was hesitant to use the arcane blast she’d been taught by the Legion. Her overall power with it was still weak. Better to distract an enemy than try to waste energy injuring them when she had perfectly capable allies to do that.

Her eyes darted left and right, seeking even the slightest hint of movement. The simple sound of their hoof falls seemed too loud to Trixie.

Coldiron stopped at the door to the first house and glanced back at everypony, giving a nod. Coco and Blossomforth returned the nod, and Trixie did too after a second. They were as ready as they were going to be.

Coldiron tensed, and then swung the door open and darted inside, Trixie and the others following behind her. The interior was a wide living room with a simple set up of a few chairs and table near a big stone hearth. One chair was knocked over while another was splintered, and it didn’t take Trixie more than a casual glance to see that there were signs o struggle beyond that. Faint blood splatters on the floor by a open door that lead to a kitchen drew her eye. There wasn’t much blood, and Trixie’s sharp mind noted the pattern of the red spots was as if the blood had dripped off of two separate points, side by side. Like somepony had been stabbed by two separate daggers at once.

Coldiron led them through each room; kitchen, pantry, upstairs sleeping chambers. All clear of anypony or anything, with just a few more minor signs of struggle. Trixie noted the hasty way it seemed the sheets and fur covers on the beds had been thrown off.

“It happened fast,” she said, and Coldiron looked at her sharply.

“Explain.”

Trixie nodded at the beds, “The residents, Trixie believes they were asleep when they were attacked, and had little time to react. The attack was swift, and quiet.”

“That’s a lot to assume from just seeing one house,” said Coldiron, but then she grudgingly nodded her head, “But I have to agree. Had the town been properly roused for battle there would be far more signs of a fight.”

The next three houses went the same way. Empty, a few signs of struggle, but nothing to indicate a longer, protracted battle. In the third house there was also more strands of webbing, ropes of it laced across one of the beds. Coldiron’s expression soured at the sight.

“The Lurkers in the Woods…” she muttered, running a hoof over her cropped brown mane.

They were getting close to the town square by now, where the dirt road opened up into a wide open space that could park a dozen wagons if need be. The inn stood tall on the west side of the square, and Trixie glanced at a number of merchant stalls lining the north end. Her heart nearly jumped into her throat as she saw something move by one of the stalls.

“There’s something over there!” she whispered, pointing.

The others looked and Blossomforth shaded her eyes with a wing, “I don’t see anything, Trixie.”

“Spread out,” Coldiron said, “Blossomforth, go up. Trixie, you take the left end, I’ll take the right, and well meet in the middle to flush it out, if there s something there. Coco, take up position in the center of the square and cover us.”

Blossomforth and Coco obeyed, the pegasus going airborne as Coco trotted to the middle of the open square, aiming her crossbow at the cluster of market stalls. Coldiron gave Trixie a quick, confirming look before heading for the right end of the stalls, leaving Trixie to trot to the left end. Trixie’s mouth was dry as she did so, not at all wanting to ‘flush out’ whatever she’d seen. She wasn’t even sure what she saw, just some small flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye near one of the middle stalls.

The stalls were simple log affairs with plain wood carved signs to depict what goods they sold. A far cry from the colorful tents and stalls that Equestrians tended to set up in their towns. Trixie carefully examined the first stall, checking inside with her horn glowing. Nothing but wheels of cheese of various sizes set up on shelves. Trixie sighed and tip-hoofed along to the next stall, sneaking around the back, carefully peeking around the corner of the next stall.

Seeing the way was clear she started to step towards the front of the second stall to look inside when she heard a creak of wood that made her freeze in place. Something was definitely inside the second stall. Trixie knew she hadn’t imagined that sound of creaking wood! Gulping, Trixie readied herself and crept to the stall. When she spotted Coldiron creeping around one of the stalls near her end Trixie waved to her, and then to Blossomforth, who’d been hovering overhead. Trixie made a quick series of rapid hoof gestures, flailing them about as she gestured at the stall.

Blossomforth looked like she was about to giggle and Coldiron had a flat look on her face as she shrugged, as if to say ‘what?’ Trixie redoubled her hoof flailing, nodding multiple times at the stall she’d heard the noise from. She emphasized her point by point at her ears, flicking them, making a monstrous scary face as she pointed at the stall, then aiming her horn at it as she made a ‘get over here you nitwits!’ gesture.

Coldiron seemed to get it then, as did Blossomforth, as they gathered near the stall. Coldiron whispered to her, “You know a simple ‘come here’ wave would have sufficed.”

“Oh be quiet! I don’t know you’re weird Legion hoof signals yet!” Trixie whispered back.

Blossomforth was smiling, “I don’t think they have those. Wait, do you?”

“Well, yes,” Coldiron admitted, “They’re mostly for Special Operations squads… anyway, not important right now. Let’s see what we have here.”

The three mares tensed, and as one they jumped up to look over the counter of the stall, horns and spear at the ready. Trixie got hit in the face with something red, round, and suspiciously tomato like. At the same time a small, brown form darted out of the side of the stall. Trixie, wiping tomato juice from her face, reacted quickly to snatch the fleeing form with her telekinesis, her earlier fear replaced with indignant ire as she saw just what, or rather who, had spooked her.

“Hey! Lemme go!” shouted the foal, a colt of perhaps eight years or so, his little brown form hanging in Trixie’s telekinetic aura as his legs blurred beneath him as if he could still run. A sooty black mane fell across his face, hiding one eye while leaving the other green orb to look at Trixie and the other mares with dawning realization, “Waitasec, you’re not monsters.”

“Not yet,” said Trixie, “But if you throw another tomato into Trixie’s face she may become a monster, just for you.”

“I thought you were one of those bug-monsters!” said the foal, then he chuckled in the way only a smug foal can, “Though the tomato is an improvement to that face.”

Trixie felt a vein pop on her forehead, “And today is apparently the day Trixie commits foalicide…”

“Down Trixie, down,” said Blossomforth with a chuckle, patting Trixie on the shoulder, “He’s just a little colt. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Yes I do,” the colt said firmly.

Coldiron sighed, “Enough chatter. Coco, form up! You, kid, what’s your name?”

The colt frowned, looking at them, “You’re Legionnaires. You’re here to help? Okay, okay, my name’s Soot. Can you tell the ugly one to put me down?”

“Trixie will dunk your head in a water barrel!”

“Trixie, put the colt down,” said Coldiron. Trixie grumbled, but did so, setting the ungrateful bratty spawn of Tartaros down on the ground with a huff.

“There. He’s down. Now he can apologize to Trixie.”

“As if! I’m not apologizing to you; uglyface!”

Blossomforth chuckled, “I see foals are pretty much the same whether it’s the Heartland or the Barrier Lands.”

“As in horrible, wretched, screeching spawn that should be seen but not heard?” asked Trixie, “And preferably not seen either?”

Blossomforth glanced at her coyly, “Not the motherly type are we?”

Trixie bristled slightly, looking away, “Trixie was just taught that a foal should be quiet, well behaved, and above all respect her elders. Thus far Trixie has met few foals that measure up to the same standards.”

“Um, hello there, Soot,” said Coco as she knelt down in front of the foal so she was on eye level with him, “We’re here to help, but could you tell us what happened here?”

“Yes,” said Coldiron, “We need as detailed an account of what’s befallen Arrow Vale as you can give. Can we assume by your initial reaction to us that enemies might still be around?”

Soot looked between them with a suddenly weary look, the young colt who’d been so full of spunk a second ago seeming to tire and get worn out in front of their eyes. Trixie suddenly felt a tad bad for the foal, realizing that his night must have been truly terrible, if the state of the town was any indication. It almost made her forgive him for the tomato and rude remarks. Almost.

“We were attacked,” Soot said simply, “It happened in the middle of the night. They just… appeared from the shadows. Monsters. Big, a bunch of legs. Fangs. Spat web.”

“Spiders?” Coldiron suggested and Soot shrugged.

“I didn’t get a good look at any of them. They moved so fast, and it was dark… “ he grew quiet, and Trixie could see tears that the colt was trying to hold back, “Mom and dad fought, but they were taken quickly. Me and sis barely had time to run out the door, and then… then sis, they got her too. I just kept running…”

He wiped at his face and then glared at them, “I’m not a coward you know! I’m… I’m nearly a grown stallion and I’m not a coward! I just had to run because dad told me too and I don’t disobey my parents. That’s it. I wasn’t… scared.”

Coldiron stepped up to the colt and put a comforting hoof on his head, “You did the right thing to run, Soot. Obeying your father was exactly what you needed to do in that situation. There’s no shame in that. Now, what happened after? You said your parents were taken?”

Soot’s nod was barely perceptible and the colt’s eyes gained a haunted quality, “I saw it. I was hiding in these stalls, and I managed to peek out once or twice. The… things, were dragging everypony away, all wrapped up in web!”

“Where?” pressed Coldiron, “Where were they being taken?”

“I don’t know for sure. Deeper into town. Towards town hall,” Soot said, looking about as if he expected to see another one of these monsters appear at any moment.

Coco’s head was tilted slightly as her eyes looked at the colt questioningly, “Soot, sorry for asking if this sounds silly, but you could see us right? Why did you try to hide from us? We’re obviously ponies.”

Soot suddenly looked embarrassed, cheeks reddening as he scrapped at the ground with a hoof, “I… uh, well, I didn’t see you all exactly. I was just starting to sneak out of these stalls when I heard you talking.”

“Well, still, that should make it pretty clear we were ponies, right?” asked Blossomforth.

Soot’s body shuddered a bit, “That’s just it, though. Those monsters, I… I heard them talking!”

Coldiron was suddenly leaning right in front of him, eyes intense, “Wait, are you certain? They talked?”

Soot nodded, “Yes. They sounded weird, like a bunch of whispers.”

Trixie sighed, rolling her eyes, “Oh, yes, I can see how you’d mistake our voices for a bunch of whispering.”

Soot stuck his chin out at her, “Hey! You were kind of whispering! And… and I wasn’t scared, I was just being cautious! Careful! Like my father taught me!”

Coldiron held up a hoof, stalling Trixie’s response, “Regardless, what were the creatures saying. Can you remember anything?”

Soot frowned, brow creasing, “Umm, let me think… they said something about the… oh, the newborn moon! They said they had to hurry because the moon would be newborn again, or something, and that was when they had to prepare the ‘trap’. I remember that word, trap. They also said that a few would have to stay behind. I don’t know what that meant, but I heard that too.”

Trixie tapped a hoof to her chin, “Wait, why were they speaking Equestrian? If these are horrible nightmare creatures what business would they have speaking in a language we’d understand?”

Coldiron looked confused for a moment, “Well, the wolven speak our tongue, if only to taunt us, and a few ursans also learn our language. I don’t see why these Lurkers wouldn’t.”

“Yes, yes,” said Trixie, “But why speak it when they’re by themselves?”

“Practice?” suggested Blossomforth, and at the looks of the others the pegasus grinned and shrugged her wings, “Well, when I was learning Prench in school the teacher had us spend a whole week speaking as much as we could in Prench. Maybe these Lurkers or whatever are just doing the same thing, getting used to ponyspeak.”

“Doesn’t really matter right now anyway,” said Coldiron, looking back to Soot, “We’re going to investigate further. Can you find a safe place to stay until we’re done?”

Soot’s eyes widened, “You’re going to keep looking around here? But… but the monsters!”

“If there are any still here, we’ll deal with them,” Coldiron said with confidence that Trixie certainly didn’t feel, but was glad enough the Legion pony seemed to think they could handle matters here, “I’m not leaving Arrow Vale until I’m certain there is nothing more we can do here.”

“Yeah!” said Blossomforth, “We might even be able to find the townsponies and rescue them!”

Coldiron gave Blossomforth a hard look, but at seeing Soot’s hopeful face Coldiron’s expression softened, and she said in a somber tone, “If we can, we will.”

Coldiron was trying her very best not to look as shaken as she felt. Seeing her hometown all but deserted, having learned it had been attacked by creatures she’d until a few days ago thought were only stories, was leaving her more than a little jittery. Soot had gone back to hiding in the stalls, and would wait there until either Coldiron and her squad returned, or failing that, she’d given the colt a few rations to help him get to Beartrap Fortress on his own. Not that the fortress would be much safer, but it was best she could do for the lad. She felt for him. This had been her home a long time ago and seeing what had happened to it shook her, but he’d lived through it, seen his family taken by monsters of the night.

The fact that he’d remained in town, and managed to hold onto any amount of courage was a heartening thing. The colt would do the Legion proud if he ever joined. She hoped he lived long enough to make that choice. She didn’t hold a lot o hope that they could, as Blossomforth said, rescue any of the other townsfolk, but she wasn’t going to abandon the place until she knew for sure there was no chance.

So far they hadn’t even seen one of the Lurkers yet to know for sure what had attacked Arrow Vale. She knew Captain Runeward would want more than just a vague report of the town’s fate and a story from the mouth of a colt. He’d want hard proof. A body, at least. Coldiron hoped to be able to accomplish that goal without getting her whole squad killed. They'd do the Legion no further good if they were dead.

The town hall wasn’t far from the square they’d found Soot in. Just a short trot of less than a hundred paces brought them to the tallest building in Arrow Vale, its thick wood walls standing tall in the morning light. The structure was one long, two story affair with a sloped roof of thick wood logs, all built around a tower that rose high as fifty paces and held the town’s bell tower. Thick wood doors were closed on the front of the hall, and immediately Coldiron noted the strands of webbing covering various parts of the roof and walls, and the signs of damage where it seemed parts of the wall had been hit with something akin to a battering ram.

But, too, did she note that the hall looked intact, and as she and her squad approached she could see signs of battle and struggle around the hall… signs that indicated the ponies of Arrow Vale not only made a last stand here, but might have succeeded.

“What is this stuff? Blood?” asked Blossomforth as she poked at a pool of brackish green liquid pooled around scuffs in the ground that to Coldiron looked like a body had fallen there, then been dragged away.

“There’s more over here,” Trixie said, disgust wrinkling her nose as she looked at several more pools and splatters of the green blood not far from the doors of the town hall.

“It seems the ponies here fought back fiercely once they gathered at the hall,” Coldiron said, and looking at the building she added, “And the doors remain unbreached.”

“But didn’t Soot saw the townsponies were dragged this way?” asked Coco.

“That doesn’t mean they were taken into town hall,” said Trixie, her visage turning grim as she nodded with her horn towards something Coldiron had missed, as she’d been too busy examining the building itself.

To the left of the town hall, out in the middle of one of the dirt roads, was a large hole in the ground. It looked dug and shaped, the rim almost perfectly round, and white webbing etched its way across the entrance of the hole like the bars of a gate. Coldiron stared at it, amazed at the size of the hole. Two ponies could have dropped abreast down it. Blossomforth whistled.

“Whew, that’s a big creepy crawly hideaway if I’ve ever seen one.”

“And likely where the captured ponies were taken,” said Coldiron with a grim sigh, then looked back towards the town hall, “Now the question is, are there any left who remain inside?”

The four mares gathered around the doors to the town hall and after a moment of exchanging glances, and a general set of shrugs all around, Coldiron lifted a hoof and knocked. There was no response. Coldiron sighed and instead called out, “Ho in there! If any ponies remain alive, know we are part of the Legion and are here to help you!”

Silence reigned for nearly a minute before there was a call from above and the mares could look to see a small, but heavy outward opening hatch had been opened up above the doors, and from it the head of a pony could be seen.

“Legion you say? By Terrato’s blazing balls it’s about time some of you showed up!” shouted a stallion’s voice, “We’ve got injured. Is… is that all of you down there?”

Coldiron grimaced, nodding her head, “It is. We were sent without knowledge of the trouble here, and for good reason as we heard this just happened last night.”

“Heard? From who? Blazes, are there still ponies alive out there?”

“We found a colt, Soot,” Coldiron replied.

“Miller’s boy? Well, there’s something at least. Hold your tails a tick, we’ll get the doors open!”

Soon enough there was the sound of something heavy and wood sliding and dropping, followed by a groan as the doors to the town hall opened wide. Inside Coldiron could see more than a dozen Arrow Vale ponies in their thick wool garments, head scarves for the mares and tall fur hats for the stallions, standing in the doorway, all armed with spears, short blades, and in some cases pitchforks or lumber axes. All looked haggard, dead tired, and had similar haunted looks to their countenances that Soot had. One of them stood out, a broad shouldered stallion with a wheat colored coat and thick, bushy gray mane.

“Come on in,” he said, “If you got here I can only guess those beasties are gone for now.”

“Mayor Straight Lace,” Coldiron said, nodding her head as she lead her squad inside. The ponies closed the doors behind her, refitting a big, thick wood door bar to keep it closed. Inside she could see the wide main floor of the town hall had almost all of its wood benches cleared from the center of the room and instead were stacked like barricades around parts of the wall that had windows or wood hatches. Well over a hundred ponies, perhaps even close to two hundred, were huddled in clusters across the main hall. There was hardly a one among them, even the old or the very young, who weren’t armed, and many eyes turned towards the Legion ponies who were now being led to the center of the hall.

“Mayor,” Coldiron began again, “I’m sorry for what’s happened to Arrow Vale. I already have some of the story from young Soot, but I’d like to hear from you just what occurred here, and how I and my squad can help.”

Mayor Straight Lace snorted, shaking his head, and slumping his shoulders as if he was barely standing underneath a great weight, “First of all, you can help by getting back to your fortress and rousing your whole garrison. Those things will be back come nightfall I’m willing to bet, and I don’t know if we can hold out another night here. As for what happened, well if you talked with Soot then you probably know the most of it. They came while we were asleep in our beds. Don’t know if any of my guards on the wall were able to raise alarm. Barely fought off one of the buggers myself and by then they were all over town. I rallied who I could and brought the here, to stand or die. As it happened, we stood, and did so the whole night, fending the things off until they gave up come morning. Nopony’s been courageous enough to check much outside, though, and I was debating ordering us all out of here to risk the roads, or to risk another night in here.”

“What are they?” asked Trixie suddenly, and at the Mayor’s hard look the mare blanched, but stood her ground and met his stare, “The things? Are they actually spiders?”

There were disquieting murmurs among the huddled groups of Arrow Vale ponies at the question, more than one foal crying, and a few adults looking ready to do so themselves. Straight Lace eyed Trixie carefully before saying, “Spiders… yeah, if spiders are the size of a pony, or in some cases even a fully loaded cart. More legs than any creature’s got a right to have, and fangs sharp as daggers, and poison to boot. Spinning web as easy as you might spin a spell. Spiders. Yes, I guess that’s what they were.”

“You killed some?” asked Coldiron, “We saw the blood outside.”

“That too is true,” said Straight Lace, “Killed the one that jumped me in my home with this very blade,”

He rattled the hilt of the short sword sheathed at his side, “They’re fast, even decent strong, but they die if you stick them good enough. Just a matter of not getting bit, while dealing with how bloody fast they are. We got a few, sure, just not nearly enough. Not sure how many hit us last night, maybe a hundred, and at most we got a dozen or two all told. Not the best accounting of ourselves.”

“It could have been worse,” Coldiron told him flatly, her mind working. Word of this new threat needed to be spread. Not just to Beartrap Fortress but to the entire Legion, to all of Equestria. Whether this was just one isolated incident or part of a larger future threat didn’t matter, the act that these Lurkers existed, and were now willing to launch full scale attacks upon towns, had to be brought to the attention of higher authorities. To the Prince himself.

She also needed to determine as much as she could about this enemy. So far all she knew was that they were large, fast, poisonous, could spin webs, but were mortal. It was a lot, but not enough by her reckoning. A body would help, but more than that, she wanted to see with her own eyes what this enemy was. There was also the matter of the ponies that were taken, which was bothering her even more now that she was thinking about it and had confirmation that they were dealing with some kind of over-sized spider.

Spiders, as she understood it, fed on prey captured in web. But did it kill their prey instantly, or keep them alive until feeding time? Could she even risk considering an attempt to rescue those taken when this vital information needed to be brought back to Beartrap Fortress?

“Worse or not,” said Trixie, looking over the tired looking crowd of ponies, “Trixie thinks these ponies have gone through enough. Can we really ask them to fight at the fortress?”

Coldiron glanced hard at the other mare, having not decided how to best bring up her actual mission here yet, but the proverbial cat was out of the bag now and the Mayor looked at her with a rough grunt as he said, “So that’s what you’re here for. Though it was strange there were so few of you, if you had come to actually help us.”

With a composing breath Coldiron faced Straight Lace with a calm, unapologetic look, “Yes, my squad’s mission here was one of recruitment. Beartrap Fortress expects an attack from a large army of ursans and we are sorely in need of every available hoof to aid in the defense.”

“Flames to that!” shouted one mare, “We just lost hundreds of our own and you’re asking us to give up more!? Neigh I say!”

A few similar shouts and mutterings were heard, though most of the ponies present looked too exhausted to bother voicing an opinion. Coldiron was expecting this response and steeled herself, keeping her tone level as she said, “I understand you all suffered losses here. Had we known what was going to happen you know the Legion would not have hesitated to fight to protect this town. Right now, while these creatures that have attacked you are a threat, the ursans are also a threat, and one that won’t stop at Beartrap Fortress if it falls! They will come here next, you can be assured of that.”

“I believe you. We all do, I reckon,” said Straight Lace, “But you really expect us to abandon our homes so quickly? I’m honestly shocked at you, little Coldiron. Yes, I recognize you, girl. Your father comes to market often enough.”

Coldiron blinked in surprise, and then licked her lips, “I see. I should ask, does anypony know if the farmsteads were hit like Arrow Vale was?”

One stallion, a young red fellow with a brown mane that Coldiron recognized was the one who’d spoken to them at the door, piped in, “Sorry to say I’m thinking so, ma’am. I’ve been keeping watch all night and morning, and ain’t seen a single pony roll into town until you ladies showed up. If things were normal in the farmsteads I know we’d have seen some early risers coming into town for market.”

It was an answer she’d expected and braced or, but she’d held onto some hope that her father and brother’s farm might have escaped attack. There was of course no way to confirm it yet and it was possible they were fine, but a cold grip of worry tried hard to take root in her. She fought it back with a steel clad sense of focus. She had her duty to perform. She’d learn the fate of her family when she could, and deal with whatever came of that then.

“I understand. Thank you for telling me…” she left the question hanging and the red stallion, who she reckoned wasn’t much more than a year into his proper adulthood, gave her a small smile.

“Strong Back, ma’am.”

She nodded, “Corporal Coldiron.”

“So, boss,” said Blossomforth, nudging Coldiron with a wing, “Not to step out of line or anything, but what are we going to do? About the ponies that got taken?”

Before she could answer Straight Lace said, “What is there to do? They’re gone.”

Coco was quick to step forward, voice earnest as she said, “You don’t know that for certain! There’s a hole outside that has to lead somewhere! There could be time to rescue those who got taken.”

There was a wave of looks and murmurs among the Arrow Vale ponies, some doubtful, others hopeful. Straight Lace was quick to speak over the din, “Hold, friends, hold!”

He looked at Coco, face stone, “You say there’s a hole out there?”

“Yes, it leads down into the earth. These spiders… whatever they are, must have taken your fellow villagers down there.”

“And you’re suggesting you four mares are willing to go down there, into the dark, into who knows how many narrow tunnels, with those things down there? To do battle? Even if there’s every chance the ponies you want to save are already dead?”

Coldiron had to interject as well, even if a part of her heart was yearning to let Coco’s earnest want to help be enough to take the risk, “Pommel, he’s right. If we go down there we have little reason to expect to find survivors, and that’s assuming we can defeat these creatures in their own territory. Returning to the fortress should take higher-“

“Wait,” said Trixie, interrupting her as the unicorn stepped forward. Trixie looked hesitant, as if she wasn’t certain she should keep speaking, but Coldiron saw the mare gulp and steady herself before she spoke, “Trixie wants nothing more than to be away from this place, but since we’re facing near certain death back at Beartrap Fortress anyway then there’s nothing to lose by trying this little rescue attempt. More than that, think about it, isn’t it oddly coincidental that these spiders attack at around the same time the ursans are massing? Doesn’t that strike you as entirely too convenient for the ursans? Trixie thinks so!”

Coldiron hadn’t thought of that, too focused on the mission at hoof, but now that Trixie mentioned the matter it was quite the coincidence that the Lurkers would step from the shadows of story to boldly attack a town that the ponies at Beartrap Fortress might need either reinforcements from or to fall back too if the fortress fell.

“Are you saying, Lulamoon, that if there is a connection between the Lurkers and the ursans, that we might learn something if we try to rescue the taken ponies?”

Trixie shrugged, “It may. Trixie does not want to go crawling into a dark hole where there are giant spiders, but she felt she ought to bring up the possibility that there might be more to gain by doing so than the rescue itself. Um, not that the rescue isn’t a worthwhile goal by itself… but…”

“I understand,” said Coldiron, and with a sigh said, “There’s still the simple fact that the four of us alone-“

“Make that five,” said Strong Back firmly, “I’m volunteering to go with you down there, and after that, to fight at the fortress.”

Straight Lace turned towards him, “Are you sure, boy? You saw what those monsters could do.”

“Yeah, I saw,” said Strong Back, turning his eyes over his fellow villagers, “We all saw. We also saw that like anything else these critters can die. Far as I’m concerned that’s enough for me. If any of our friends, family, or foals might still be alive, well… that’s worth the fight, ain’t it?”

Coco nodded firmly, standing beside Strong Back, “Exactly! No matter what, if there’s a chance to save fellow ponies, we ought to try.”

Blossomforth came up next to Coldiron, giving her a half-grin as she hefted her spear across her shoulder, “Well, boss, what do you say? Dive into the hole and see what we can stir up? Hate to have come all this way and not even see one of these crazy big spiders.”

Coldiron took in a deep breath, shaking her head. Strange that it was a bunch of Heartlanders that were reminding her of the reasons the Legion fought its wars in the first place. Risky or not, it shouldn't have ever been a question of whether or not they’d go to try and rescue the ponies that had been taken. That, too, was part of her duty.

“Very well,” she said in a loud voice so all in the town hall could hear her, “My squad shall go into the darkness and by blade and spell try our damnedest to bring back who we can, or at least confirm what happened to them. I know it is much to ask, that you have already battled these monsters and have had little rest, but I would welcome any ponies who share Strong Back’s heart and wish to volunteer to aid us. I will not demand you come with us to the fortress after, but anypony who wishes to lend their hoof to this rescue would add to our chances of finding and returning your lost fellows.”

Straight Lace, after a second of looking her over, stepped forward, patting the hilt of his sword, “So be it. Your father has told me on more than one occasion that his daughter was as strong a mare as her mother. I see the truth of that, and if you risk your life for my town, then you’ll have me at your side for the task.”

Soon enough there was a resounding echo of offers for help as pony after pony stepped forward, readying weapons and squaring tired shoulders. Coldiron felt a warm rush through her heart that helped fight back the fear and worry. These were good ponies. She only hoped she could equal the measure of their courage with her own, because she was certain she’d need it to face what might be waiting for them down below.

Amid the hustle and bustle of the Arrow Vale ponies offering their aid to the rescue mission Trixie had felt a certain amount of satisfaction at the sight. She was terrified of going down that hole, but at least she wouldn’t be down there with just herself and a few others, but an actual decent sized group.

All in all so far things had gone well. They hadn't run into any monsters, yet, and had actually found plenty of ponies to help them. The only sour note was that disrespectful colt who thought she was “ugly” of all things. Hmph, as if a young colt who hadn't gotten old enough to notice mares had any notion of feminine beauty!

But Trixie couldn't shake an uneasy notion. She’d been so certain of eyes on her during the squads trek through town and searching the houses. She knew it could have been a product of paranoia and stress… but Trixie was a mare who trusted her instincts, and her instincts had told her she and the rest of the squad had been watched as they’d moved through Arrow Vale.

More than that she still felt the sense of being watched, like a chill little prickle at the base of her mane.

As Coldiron started organizing the volunteers into squads, apparently intending to take no more than twenty of the most fit looking of the Arrow Vale ponies because more than that might be a hindrance in the underground tunnels she expected them to be fighting in, Trixie found herself looking around with her eyes narrowing. She somehow knew she was being watched.

“You okay there, Trix?” asked Blossomforth, flying over and landing in front of her.

“Trixie sense tingling,” she said simply, still looking around. The walls, the ceiling, the stairs leading to the second floor… she couldn’t see anything, but she was certain something was off!

“Trixie… sense?” Blossomforth asked with a bemused expression.

Trixie ignored the pegasus, trying to look at the town hall with a different perspective, trying to stop looking for what she expected to see and instead seeking the minute details that ponies normally ignored. A stage magician had to understand the little details, the small seams that indicate a hidden compartment, the faint bulge in a garment that might show a secret pocket. You can’t perform tricks without understanding what went into a trick, after all.

She almost missed it.

The town hall was lit by a number of braziers, which created flickering orange light that filled most the room. That light cast shadows here and there, most of them normal and with obvious sources… except for one part of the wall by the stairs where a shadow from a log post should have been… but wasn’t!

Trixie didn’t say anything. She acted on instinct, her horn glowing bright as she cast her spell. A small arcane bolt shot from her horn, small but aimed true as it slammed towards the wall, but instead of hitting the wall, hit something that’d been clinging to the wall.

A high pitched utterly unnatural sounding hiss filled the room and the talking died down instantly as a many limbed, hairy thing fell from the wall, landing on its back on the stairs.

Trixie gasped, having not been prepared for really seeing the creature.

Eight spindly legs rapidly flailed with blurring, twitchy movements as the beast righted itself. A big bulbous body of shining black chitin shot through with strange yellow patterns led to a face of many glittering eyes, and a pair of curved, dripping fangs. The spider was easily as large as Trixie was. Despite the sudden cold fear that spread through her she noted the unusual fact that the spider was covered still in strange strands of webbing that were interwoven together like a thick cloak… a cloak she noted turned and bent light, making the spider still partially blend in with its surroundings.

The spider hissed again and scampered up the stairs before anypony in the town hall could react, but then the shouting and yells were manifold as the ponies moved, some away from the stairs, others towards it. Trixie was rooted in place, her mind’s eye still seeing that hideous, alien face glaring death at her, when she felt her body being shaken.

“Trixie!” shouted Blossomforth, “Snap out of it! We got to catch it!”

Catch it? Was she mad? Trixie just blinked at Blossomforth, but before she could respond Coldiron was rushing past her, with Coco right behind her. Both mares were joined by Strong Back as they rushed the stairs, while Straight Lace was keeping the rest of the Arrow Vale ponies calm and preventing a panic from starting.

Trixie watched them go; only slowly getting her brain back into working order. Blossomforth, still next to her, was looking at her with a brow creased with worry, “Trix?”

Trixie shook her head, as if shaking out cotton from her ears, “Y-yes! Trixie is fine! Let’s go help g-get that thing, before it escapes to warn the rest of its kind that we’re coming!”

Alongside Blossomforth she charged up the stairs behind Coco, Coldiron, and Strong Back. The stairs led to a storage room filled with barrels and casks, with a door hanging open on the left side of the room. It was this door the giant spider was scuttling through at top speed. Trixie saw Coldiron lower her horn and a beam of icy blue light shot from the tip of it. The beam missed the spider by inches, slamming into the wall next to the door and frosting it over.

At the same time Coco had slipped the aiming monocle of her crossbow over her eyes and hit the firing trigger with her hoof. The huge crossbow made a loud snapping sound as it sent its large, barbed bolt streaking at the spider as it vanished through the door. The bolt clipped one of the spider’s many legs, drawing a burst of green blood and a high pitched hiss. Strong Back hadn’t stopped, just charging ahead with his spear, which meant he reached the door before the rest of them.

A strand of webbing shot out from inside the door and hit him in the chest, seeming to lock into place there. With a grunt of surprise Strong Back was pulled hard into the door-frame, his head bouncing off the wood frame and dazing him. The mares galloped on past his dazed form and piled into a wide hallway. The spider was already halfway down the hall, crawling erratically on the walls, then the ceiling, making it hard to track its movements.

“I got it!” said Blossomforth and took wing, flying ahead of everypony much faster than they could gallop.

Trixie didn’t know if the pegasus was crazy, brave, or a complete fool, but she pushed her legs harder to try and catch up. Beside her Coco had just finished managing to reload her crossbow while still running, no simple feat, and was trying to find a clear shot while keeping up. Coldiron was just silently focused, horn still glowing, but not casting yet.

Blossomforth caught up with the spider just as its random movements put it on the right side wall, and she thrust her spear at the spider’s bulbous back end. The spider jerked away from the strike, zipping upwards onto the ceiling and lowering its front half while keeping a grip on the ceiling with its back legs. The whole move happened in a second and Blossomforth, taken by surprise, flapped backwards while pulling her spear crosswise across her front to defend. The spider’s fangs flashed forward, and more by luck than skull the spear’s haft kept the fangs from Blossomforth’s hide. The force of the blow still knocked Blossomforth off balance to careen backwards into the wall, and then drop to the floor with a cry of pain. Trixie had seen Blossomforth had slammed her injured leg into the wall.

The spider turned about in a split second and resumed its course down the hall, but it’d been slowed enough by Blossomforth that the other mares had caught up and both Coco and Coldiron had a clear line of sight now. The crossbow bolt fired at the same time a magical bolt flew, and Trixie was preparing her own spell as she watched the bolt sink into the spider’s side and the magic bolt tear another leg off.

Shockingly the spider was still moving, and as Trixie finished her spell she noticed the spider was doing something unusual. Her small magic bolt fired, and as it did the spider’s spinnerets convulsed and a spray of webbing shot out, but rather than fly like a rope, the spider’s remaining leg’s moved with blurring motions to catch and sculpt the webbing behind it.

A mark formed from the webbing, a bizarre, jagged rune that looked twisted and unnatural, unlike any kind of writing Trixie had ever seen, but when it was complete the web shaped rune flared with bright green, flame-like light. Trixie’s bolt seemed to be attracted to the rune and her spell’s energy was absorbed into the rune. The green flames died, but the spider was already shaping another, different set of runes from its web, three in a row that also flared with green light.

A sphere of sickly green fire leapt from the runes and streaked towards the mares. Trixie gulped, but saw Coldiron’s horn lighting up again and Trixie joined her. Both mares linked into an array, Trixie slipping into the process faster than she had in training and not fighting Coldiron for control as she lent her magic to Coldiron’s spell. A magical shield, like half a dome, formed and the green sphere of fire exploded on it, bathing the hall in its flickering flames, but not reaching any of the mares.

Coco had reloaded by now and when the shield dropped she jumped ahead and planted her legs, blue eyes blazing with focused anger on the spider that was retreating down the hall, almost reaching the end of it where Trixie could see there was a room that looked like the bottom of the bell tower. If the spider got up there there’d be little chance to catch it.

Coco fired, and the bolt flew true, planting straight into the back of the spider just as it skittered into the bell tower.

With a final keening whine the spider shuddered and fell on its side, its legs flailing for a few more seconds before they curled in on its body and the horrible beast lay still, green blood flowing across the floor in a thick pool.

The four mares collected themselves, only to turn their heads as Strong Back ran up to them, looking about wildly.

“I’m okay! I’m okay! Where is it? I’ll clobber it good!” the stallion declared.

Coco, seeming to still be on her adrenaline high, was breathing heavy as she said, “No need. We… we got it.”

Blossomforth stood, gingerly rubbing her leg, “Yeah, no thanks to me.”

Trixie was quick to be at the pegasus’ side, looking at Blossomforth’s leg for any sign of real damage while giving Blossomforth a look that was somehow both admonishing and concerned, “Don’t run ahead like that then! Though Trixie supposes you did slow it down. Still, be more careful.”

Coldiron in the meantime had trotted forward, towards the body of their fallen foe, and before long the others had gathered around the creature, all staring down at its still form. None of them spoke, all taking in the gruesome sight with dire silence. Trixie knew they all were likely thinking the same things. That just dealing with one of these massive spiders had been difficult, and it has displayed abilities that certainly couldn’t just be attributed to a mere over-sized arachnid.

And they were soon to delve into the darkness where many, many more such foes awaited.

Author's Note

And here we have first contact with the other enemy faction for this story, the mysterious Lurkers in the Woods. They got another name, but that hasn't been revealed yet. For those who haven't read any of the Upheaval series or haven't caught up with it, at least, don't worry, you're not missing any info, the spiders are an enemy that exist exclusively to this story. I look forward to showing more of them gradually as the story goes on, and giving our heroines are hard time as they get stuck in even deeper over their heads than they already are. Hope you folks continue to enjoy and let me know any comments, critiques, or questions you might have.