Middayby SIMIOCAOSChaptersIron and steelFeel the fireA blood-stained legacyHoly ThunderUnkown scores...Iron and steelSmoke. Smoke rose from the horizon, which was odd considering how this place didn't ad anything resembling to firm land. Just clouds and blue, mixed with the chunks of everything that could have been a fickle illusion of dry land so long ago. The rest was sky, endless and boundless… And smoke. The day had never been clearer, it was always day in Skyland, the wind had never been softer, and yet the smell of burnt things reached her nose within minutes, with the same intensity as if it were right there where bodies were being put to the flame. What really woke her up, though, was when she felt the smell of iron an steel. The day was shining outside and the sky was still clear, but either way she knew that today was going to be different. Outside of her shack sunlight entered through the window, along with the stench of the fire, but, strangely, everything she could smell were iron and steel. Metal craft. Something cutting through flesh with unnatural purpose. She found it odd at first, because there wasn't any sign that they were outside, but yet there was a mute sensation in the air, like some kind of unknown terror that had snapped her out of her dreams by force. Something was going to happen. She could feel it. What really could be happening was that the battle was drawing nearer. Dangerously nearer again. Just as near as it always had been. As she'd always known. She sighed and got out of bed. The day's heat, already oppressive, was starting to become unbearable because of the flames. Like if the tongues of fire were carrying their scorching scent with them towards the town. Through the four walls of her humble abode, that heat was licking inside like the rain whenever it hit them. Strange, that something like that could happen… But it wasn't time to ponder about the structure for a thousand time. They were under attack. For a moment the drowsiness of her thoughts made her forget that outside the smoke had become so thick as to obscure the sun. New exclamations reached her ears, along with strange noises from the outside. Even though she couldn't make out most of it, the phrases and exclamations of the townsfolk she was able to hear as they flew around were enough to let her know what was happening. "They're at the Plough's plantation! They're killing everypony back there!" cried a mare. "Gather everything you can, you must evacuate this place before they come here!" shouted another, probably a guard. "Oh sweet Angel please protect me! I don't wanna die!" More shouts came from the outside, but she dismissed them after that. It hadn't been different since she could recall, and all of those ponies hadn't been nothing else to her than terrible people. Always calling her demon, or marked child because of her colored mane. At first it was just the adults, but after a point even the other fillies, when there were other fillies, started to push her away. Just because she had something different; the one single characteristics that, according to the last town preacher, made her like them… Before he was left behind in their last settlement as well. But that was history now. The fire and the screams, on the other hoof… Something broke through the walls. The wood suddenly snapped and crashed, and the structure collapsed, making a sound as it bent more than it was allowed to. She immediately fell to the ground, covering her head until she realized it hadn't been her house the one that had been crushed, but the neighbor's. She got up again, just as the screeching sound of a mare's cry reaped the air. In the distance, another house bent and snapped accompanied by the frantic voices that suddenly rose from the window. She tried to reach for the door, but before she knew something hit the ground with tremendous strength, making it shake and her to reconsider her initial intentions. The screams got higher, this time not only letting away fear, but panic. The sole feeling that had unexpectedly engulfed all the others in the world. More impacts around the house made the earth shake until she tripped again. The smell of metal was now one mixed with a warm sensation. Something liquid was zipping from her mind, over a stained surface upon which danced the lights of a thousand fires. What was happening to her? She felt that taste in her mouth, and into her head. Something was filling her. Quiet at first, but constantly growing as it made itself be heard by her conscience. Some mad desire to storm outside and be part of whatever was happening behind those walls. As soon as she got up again she stepped away from the door. Something suddenly was heard outside. "Run! They're here! They're…" The scream suddenly choked, and more indescribable noises filled the air. Just as she reached her bed again, some cold sensation started to grow in her stomach, and every nerve o herself began to feel a mesmerizing wave, like a long lost tension that was returning to her body. Some part of her now wanted for everypony else to get killed, but another wished that they wouldn't know better. It was difficult to stand an opinion, but after all she and her father just had about enough from the others to start questioning wether if it would be good to remain on their side or not- That fire again. A bewildering sensation to be one with the outside, to burst out from those doors and revel in everything that was happening. It was almost a physical need. Her heart was burning, and it was demanding her to be outside, to know what was happening, to be with them… Something hit upon the door. The wooden plank that served as the entrance shook and bounced back with the sudden pressure that was put to it. By that moment she had already hid under the bed. Another strike, this time twice as hard, that combed the wooden piece to the inside. She tried with all her strength not to cry, but when another blow toppled down the door she found herself not only fighting against her body to remain stealth, but her anxiety, that had risen again, and was shouting in her mind to fight. The trespasser stepped inside, the plates of armor clicking while they moved against each other. The unknown stranger was walking towards her bunk bed. She waited while the hooves of the invader clopped on the ground. The fire within her was starting to light again, telling her to step up and kill whatever was inside her home or die in the intent. Her tendons readied for the leap, and her vision narrowed. At any moment he would be stepping before her sight and then- "Wind?" the voice broke through like a plea. A desperate call from a stallion's voice that she instinctually recognized. Wind? "Wind Song, where are you!?" "Dad?" she came out of her hiding place, her flame suddenly extinguished. "What's going o-" But before she gave a step her father’s legs had already wrapped around her. "Child thank Angel you're fine!" he exclaimed, then broke away. "Come on, we need to go, NOW!" She ended up a few steps away from him, and in that single moment, the reality of her existence dawned on her. She wasn't her… Or the one she thought she was. A pair of wild eyes instead, two powerful wings at her sides, and a large-wild mane in the pattern of colors of the rainbow shone over the armor of the stallion that had brought her to life. She wasn't anything at all like the self she remembered, even the one that she imagined. If that was the image she had given to the world it wasn't strange that they considered her something along the lines of a demon! But wether great or not was the impression in her, it was only a second, and after that the reality that surrounded her came once again into action, this time evolving her with a more vivid volley of sensations. More screams and sounds of battle reached her ears again, and outside, the light of the sun had turned into a shade of brown and red. Like if a stain of blood had watered the sky. "Get your saddlebags, we're flying back to Thundercloud keep" he continued as he reached the door and peeked outside. "…Let's hope the fifth cohort is still standing." She, or Windsong, as she was her actual self, had already clad her bags, and was about to head for her father when something else breached into the shack. A sound that her ears recognized all too late before disgrace struck completely. The terrible whistle that announced, barely seconds away, that a physical body was flying straight to their home, ready to smash it. Her father, who had the time to hear it too, was only able to turn and reflect in his face all the fear that had been lighting inside him, that now had turned to panic. "Windsong, dodge-" But he wasn't able to finish when something suddenly crushed the ceiling, and tumbled down the wall, creating a huge crackling sound as fire and smoke followed the projectile inside their home. Windsong flew across the room and hit the opposite wall with such strength that she found it odd not to break it down as well. The filly fell to the ground, with her head spinning and her ribs and wings aching as if she'd broken them, but she was able to put herself in her fours before her mind could asses the situation. Before her, everything that her sight could see had been covered in blackness and fire. Smoke and flames were rising at the time they were slowly eating the flammable materials of her shack. There was no sign of her father or the thing that had caused such destruction. "Dad?" she called, but immediately regret it for the cough that the smoke caused her. "Father, where are you!?" She immediately set for his search, but couldn't give more than two steps forward before stumbling into a trunk, that had been part of the ceiling. Windsong tripped with her face first, and fell right into the material that once had covered her from the sky, which now reeked of burning things. She pulled away again, coughing as she had swallowed all the smoke that thing was emanating. There was no sign of her father anywhere. "DAAAAD!!!" she shrieked when the fear began to take hold. A sudden movement was her answer, as something beneath the debris of the house began to move, setting aside beams as it rose. "Dad?" she turned, hoping to fin him… And muted. The creature that had stood up wasn't her father, it wasn't even equine. Standing on its fours, the beast rose from the fire it had caused, far taller than any pony she had seen, and spread her wings. Colossal bat-shaped wings eclipsed her sight, and in the middle of them, two eyes glowed in the center of a horned-shaped head. At the back of it, a large mane trailed from the pinnacle of the creature almost to its legs. Windsong stepped back in dizziness that its sight had caused to her, and releasing a grasp of terror and fascination she stumbled back with the corner of the room that she had impacted upon. The monster, upon hearing the thud of her head against the beams turned its terrible sight to her, and its eyes glowed in the fire with a wilderness that was beyond her comprehension… And yet… All the more known. The creature focused its attention on her, and snorted with fury. Windsong's heart beat at the speed of a furious drum. The creature started to narrow its distance between them, those eyes glowing more feral as they left behind the curtain of smoke. Windsong wanted to run, to fly away, despite all her guts yelled her to face that wretched monster. In the end the creature got passed the window that represented her only point of retreat, and then stood before her still shrouded in shadows. There was nowhere to run now. Windsong wanted to scream, but in that moment her lungs closed up, and the only breath that was allowed to be let out was that of a low, almost animal-like growl. The creature stood before her, staring at the filly with an intimidating and indecipherable look, but nothing more. Something suddenly had stopped it. Windsong had readied to sell her life costly, but at that moment her conscience began to regain control. Even started to see that creature… Different. It hadn't attacked her. It was just standing, staring at her with something in those eyes that she couldn't understand, and yet felt like it was something that they had in common. Almost as if they were- "YAAAAGH!!!" The battle cry of her father suddenly broke through the air, and with a leap attack the pegasus appeared from behind the creature. The monster, anticipating him, quickly dodged and let the pegasus pass her. Her father landed aside from the creature, but he hadn't lost his momentum, and in an instant was attacking again. The creature flapped its wings and stood in two legs, revealing while it did the shine of a sword's blade, swung at him. The pegasus dodged the blade as well, and differently from his opponent, he seised the space between them to charge, tackling the creature and tearing a hole in the wall as they engaged in struggle. Windsong watched everything, frozen in her place, and only when the two of them bounced out of the shack she snapped. Quickly she ran to the breach in the wall to see the two opponents trying to win the other, the creature pushing to get on top, and her father pressing from outside its grip not to get caught by its force. Both of them circled through the dirt and grass, tearing apart pieces of ground as they went back and forth in their melee. A whirl of emotions went through her. On one side she wanted her father to live, but on the other, that being, the one that was trying decapitate him, why didn't it attack her? Even though their kinds were at war she hadn't have the chance to see one up close, and even though she'd seen in more than one occasion the destruction that they had caused to her people, something still seemed to be attractive about them. Maybe, if she'd listen to the fire within her… But her father took that decision for her, and seizing an opening in the creature's guard, he entered sword first into the guts of the beast. The creature, feeling the blade pierce its skin, didn't yell, or growl, or moved in any way by the pain that the weapon was causing inside its body. It just seised the moment as well to send a punch straight at the pegasus' face, and with a mighty blow separated each other again. Her father flew backwards and landed on the ground, a few yards away, but recovered and got back up again. The creature, staring at him with inequine hatred, remained on its fours with the point of the blade sticking out of its silhouette, the handle surely being stuck in its entrails. The pegasus, who didn't had any other weapons, didn't had anything to do but stare frightened at his foe, who was limping in his direction. Windsong stared at this with her mouth quite open. It seemed as if the creature hadn't received any damage, and form its facial features that she could discern, pain wasn't peeking from none. For a moment she wondered how could anything alive was able to still be walking with that kind of wound, but her uncertainty wouldn't last, and the enemy, apparently exhausted from the wound, finally fave up its stance and fell to the ground, not moving anymore. Feel the fire"DAAAAAD!!!" she screamed in horror and rage as she charged against her. "NOOOO!!!" The creature was distracted, because when she went for her, she didn’t react until the last second, trying to dodge but it was too late. The filly jumped over her and smacked her head with the stick that she’d picked up. The creature, which her father had called Brisselle, acted confused when she jumped over her shoulders, and let out a loud groan when she hit her head with the stick, setting ablaze some hair locks. Windsong released a war cry when she hit her, and was about to do it again, but this time she didn't had the element of surprise. Brisselle, collecting herself suddenly extended her wings, and in an unexpected move caught Windsong between the momentum of the two of them, propelling her away like some kind of living ammunition. Windsong tried to take flight in mid air, but when her broken wing felt the air resistance she let out a scream of pain. She landed a few yards away, not being able to control her weight as it made her roll over the ground. Tears of rage and pain rolled down her cheeks when she finally stopped. The world was spinning, but that what had saved her before made it become still again. The fire returned, this time more alive than ever. It commanded her muscles to stop aching, and her lungs to use more air, even though it meat that they would be shred apart. Windsong got back on her fours, but her outburst of rage wouldn’t last long. As soon as she stepped up, a claw suddenly graved her by the neck and pinned her down again. She tried to resist, but the creature was just too strong for her, and she subdued her with no problem. “Coileán chapaillíní diabhal!” Brisselle groaned as it dragged her through the ground with no care and rose her to stare at her face with wrath. Windsong tried to fight her back, but the moment she saw the spear being prepared she knew there was no way out of it. She was going to die, just like that hippogriff, and just like her father. Brisselle rose her high, graved by the neck, and was ready to strike her. Windsong shut her eyes no to see that sight again and waited to feel the steel inside her and the bitter end after that… But it didn’t happen. When the blade took too long, the filly began to question the certainty of death, and when even the grab at her throat became lighter, yet not loos enough for her to escape, curiosity beat her and she opened her eyes again. Before her, contrary to everything she expected, the creature was staring at her not with anger, but with a frown of disengagement. Just as if something about her had just puzzled the being that had her life in its very claws. “Dodhéanta…” she whispered, disbelieved. “C-conas is féidir leat a bheith?” she asked immediately, as if Windsong'd have the answer to that question. Windsong frowned too. She was ready, more like resigned to, accept her death, but in that moment, the confusion of the being had found its way into her mind as well. Unluckily for both, none of them would have the chance to let out their doubts. “Brisselle!” another one called her. “Cad é an t-ábhar?” Both the alluded and Windsong turned to where the voice had come from. Making the noise of what Windsong could only relate to a hurricane, another one appeared from the fire and smoke, flapping her powerful wings as it teared apart the curtain of shadows to show the dozen escorts that were following her. Windsong opened her eyes wide. The companions were just like Brisselle, but the other one was taller, if that was possible, and bulkier, not to mention the length of her wings, far larger than those of the one that was holding her. Actually, in comparison, the other one looked as if she could bash a dragon’s skull with its bare claws. Her mane was tangled in more braids, and in more intricate patterns, but as it flew the wind was able to still play with it, making it dance with the colors of the rainbow. She was wearing an armor which blazed as she moved by some unknown power, and by her neck a beautiful topaz shone with the power of the sun as it was kept inside a masterfully done metallic frame. Windsong couldn’t notice in detail, but she could assure there were many strange symbols in her plates, and even in the frame of her necklace, which inscriptions were burning bright. Blood stains were all over her fur and scales too, but in her case those didn’t spoiled her beauty. They emphasized it. The sole majesty of the creature as it took land made Windsong forget for a moment that her life was in peril. Only when the giant creature turned her eyes to her, and showed within them all her disdain was the awesomeness spell broken. Brisselle, still with her held fasten, immediately bowed, but the other one didn’t return the gesture. “Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ag loosing do chuid ama, Birsselle?” she asked to her captor in a scolding manner. “Ní mór dúinn a bheith páirteach leis na clans eile sula bhogann siad ar gan orainn.” “Tá mé máthair brón orm” she bowed her head even lower. “Fuair distracted mé…” “Níl mé ag iarraidh do chuid leithscéalta” the taller one continued. “Ach a choinneáil ag gluaiseacht” she turned to the other ones, which had started to gather around. “Do lá atá inniu ann is é an lá a chur orainn ar ais ár dtalamh!” a clamor rose from the presents as she spoke. “Na siúlóirí scamall Beidh rue an lá a ionsaigh siad an Talamh Spéir!” A generalized shout responded to her words, but Brisselle didn’t move for some reason. “Bás do na siúlóirí scamall!” someone shouted in the background. Everyone cheered again in those fierce roars but Brisselle. Her grip to Windsong had only fastened. “Máthair!” she called at the tall one, that by the respect the others had shown surely was their leader. “Tá mé rud éigin ba chóir duit a fheiceáil…” the leader heard her, and while her face became annoyed, she took the liberty to walk to her. When she was facing her captor, Brisselle rose the filly once again, showing her to the leader. “Inis dom go bhfuil sí ach chapaillíní ar coileán.” Brisselle handled her to the leader, and snatching her as if she were a piece of chinaware, the other one took her by her mane. She tried to break free, but that only fastened her captor’s grasp, and caused her even more pain. Windsong’s eyes watered from the way she was being held, but when she faced the eyes of the other creature, the agony was put almost to a secondary plane by the impression that she gave her. The eyes of the leader weren’t at all like those of Brisselle. In her stare Windsong found a thousand different thoughts, and a bright so enrapturing that even though they started to show disengagement, she couldn’t do anything else but to stare at them, baffled. Almost like if she had encountered something as beautiful as it was dangerous. It almost made her forget that the leader’s face had turned from one of annoyance to one of confusion, and finally had given way to utter repulsion. “Ní féidir é seo a bheith…” she muttered as well with disbelief. “D’fhéadfadh sé?” A blood-stained legacy“Ní mór go mbeadh aon marthanóirí” said someone at the leader’s back. “Ní mór dúinn iad a mharú go dtí an ceann deireanach!” The other ones chorused their agreement, but the leader just seemed to ignore them. She just stared into Windsong, narrowing her eyes as if she’d be looking for something… To refute herself. “Fan!!!” suddenly exclaimed another one. “Ná Gortaítear di, máthair! Le do thoil!” The crowd opened to let the one that had spoken jump to the fore. She was like the rest of them, but in her neck, the stone that shone wasn’t a ruby, but a diamond, that bright shiny like the stars. “Veesha” the leader let down Windsong, who finally was able to breathe, and turned to the pleader, not any less vexed. “Cad é an bhrí atá leis an?” The alluded one took a step forward, but she doubted before speaking. As if she weren’t so sure of what to say. “Bhuel… I-” “Beidh mé insint duit cad atá ag tarlú, máthair” interceded Brisselle. “Do curadh feall ar tú” she glared at Veesha. “Tá do iníon chúpláilte leis an namhaid!” she pointed at her with her spear, accusingly. A generalized wave of gasps and whispers rose from that gesture. The rest of the pack began to whisper among themselves, surely out of surprise of Brisselle’s action. Brisselle herself let out a sufficiency smile but the joy wouldn’t last her long, for as soon as she ended her phrase, the eyes of Veesha had lit themselves with fire again. “Soith tú!” she shrieked as she leaped for Brisselle, reaching her before she could do anything and beginning to struggle. “Cén chaoi a dare a rá leat rud éigin mar sin?” she continued shouting while trying to reach her neck. “Ó do dheirfiúr féin!” Both of them rolled over the floor. Bristle seemed to gain the upper hand at first, but Veesha soon turned out to be too strong for her, and with the help of a mouth that she showed full of fangs she pinned her down, and subdued her opponent. Brisselle, seeing herself caught, began to exclaim something that Windsong couldn’t understand. Probably asking the others for help. Either way, she wouldn’t have to wait much. As soon as Veesha showed her superiority, the powerful claws of the leader broke them apart. “An dá de tú, stop a chur air seo an toirt!” she roared so loud that, Windsong was sure, she could be heard from an island apart. “Brisselle, ar shiúl ó dom!” she yelled at her. Brisselle looked as if she had punched her in the face. “Ach mháthair-” “Anois!” she bombed again. “Agus ná teacht ar ais go dtí go thoghairm mé tú!” Brisselle left the place in the act, but not with a scolded face, as Windsong had expected her, but with one of pure terror drawn across her features. When she turned back at the scene, the leader was already facing Veesha. “Agus tú, Veesha” she said, her look as furious as if she could set her ablaze right where she was standing. “An bhfuil sé seo fíor?” The alluded one looked as if she were about to speak, but then seemed to doubt, and looked as if she would object against it, but when her eyes set on Windsong’s her face dropped completely. “Tá sé, máthair” she said, lowering her head not to show a tear that only seemed to caught Windsong’s sight. “Bealtaine Eion logh mo laige.” Windsong could’t make a word out of it, but by the reaction of the rest of the presents, of general repulse and disgust, she instinctually knew it wasn’t good. “Sin an méid a bhí eagla mé” she muttered, then turned to the others. “Tá ag gach duine, ag éisteacht!" she called with a booming voice. "Beidh tú in ann a ithe cad mharaigh tú… Ach amháin le haghaidh Veesha” she turned to her. “Beidh sí ag ithe dó" she sentenced as she nodded at the place where Windsong’s father lied, under the beam. Here eyes then fixed on the alluded one, still with rage. “Agus má leomh leat chun cónaí i ndiaidh an chatha…” she walked to her, and with her claw ripped her necklace from her. “Ansin, beidh muid ag freastal ar ár claimhte” she stared directly into her eyes. Veesha refused her gaze. “Tá tú aon iníon a thuilleadh de mo.” Veesha stepped backwards, the shame showing so bright in her face that even Windsong felt sorry for her… Nevertheless, for the creature the torment had ended for now, and hers was just about resume. “Agus cad mar gheall ar an leath-cine?” asked another one as she grabbed her by the neck again. The leader didn’t respond, but looked at Windsong again. In her eyes there wasn’t anything but contempt for her to be found. That kind of hatred that can end a life in a matter of seconds. Windsong would have wrestled her captors claw to break free, but in that moment the fire had returned. Well, if she was gonna give her life, it wouldn’t be the easy way. “Bring it on!” she dared her, with as much courage as she pretended to have. “I-I’m not afraid of you!” “Cad é atá tú ag dul a dhéanamh, máthair?” asked her captor again. “Cad ba cheart dúinn a dhéanamh léi?” Again she didn’t spoke. Windsong couldn’t see anything in her face save for that anger, that hatred towards her as she snatched her again, and with that firm grasp dragged her along as she moved inside the town. The grasp on her mane made her squeal and tear, but the leader didn’t let her go until she herself had walked a few houses away, followed by her kin for what she could see, and reached the center of the town. Once there she stopped, but her grip didn’t loose. If anything it became fastener. “Claíomh” she stood in her two rear legs and extended her other claw. One of the others that were following put a sword in it, a piece that judging by its design was pegasus-made, and retreated back. Windsong would like to know what was happening with the others, but she was graved in order to look to the front. She could barely see the solemn, yet disdaining expression by which the leader was staring at her. Holy Thunder This time there was no time to prepare. She couldn’t mentalize for what was coming at her, and this time the tears that fell from her eyes weren’t from pain anymore, but from fear, from frustration that she was doomed to die in such a horrible manner… But again it seemed that destiny had other plans. The sword didn’t touch her, but it made a horrible scratching noise when it teared through stone and dirt, sending out sparks into the filly’s face, who groaned when she felt them burn her fur. The leader, on her side, didn’t say anything until she made sure the sword was at least half way inside the earth and then let her go. Windsong broke out from her as if she were still trying to kill her, but didn’t moved an inch before stumbling on the sword’s blade, firmly stuck in the floor. When she looked back the leader had stepped back a few steps, and was glaring at her with pure hatred, as if she were waiting for her to pick the weapon and fight her. “You” she spoke instead with a forced accent. “Pick it up when you have the strength” Windsong took a moment to realize she was speaking of the sword. The filly wiped a tear from her cheek, but didn’t back away, this time resolved to defy her. The leader just dedicated another stern look at her in response. “Or don’t. It’s your choice” she turned away. “I’ll be waiting.” Again that hurricane rose from the ground, just as she made her wings flap to take her off. The rest of them followed her, and with the flapping of wings at unison, the wind that the flock of killers rose was comparable to a storm. Windsong didn’t care. She wouldn’t give anything else to that display of power. To her, those monsters had took away everything she held dear, crushed what little of filly she had inside. She looked at them as they departed, getting lost in the black clouds of smoke and the sound of the battle that still revolted around them, every time with less screams and clashes, and with more choirs of roars from what surely were the other creatures like them, claiming victory over their enemies, and soon-to-be meals. Windsong stared at the general direction of their flight even when there was nothing else to see. She hated them. She hated them with all her strength, and she’d never rest until every single one of them would be put to the sword as she had been: Amidst the fire and steel… Rainbow Dash didn’t woke up with agitation, as she’d done before. She wasn't screaming, nor were she struggling with some unknown foe that turned out to be her blanket when she recovered her senses. She was lying on the floor, that she could know, tired and achy as if she’d been through a full contact match and lost. Things around her room were in total disarray, even more than usual, and her bed was, strangely, set against the window, like if it had been disposed to prevent some unknown foe to enter through there. “What the he-OW!!!” she groaned when she tried to stand up. Her left wing hurt. “Tha heck?” With discomfort, mostly brought by her whole left side, Rainbow stood up, trying not to groan because of the pain that the fact of using her leg caused her. Just as she got up to her fours, she was able to better asses the deplorable estate in which her whole room was. What happened to this place? And what happened to her? The answer didn’t come straight away to her, but in the form of something hung up in her wall. A bright that caught her eye almost instantly when she passed them over it. But how could it be the cause to this? Of her nightmares? Of everything… It was a just gift she had received from her uncle Thunder Storm from outside Equestria. Nothing more than a good luck augury. An old pendant, at least the size of her hoof, which, according to her uncle, had been in her family for generations. A piece of jewelry that showed within a masterfully done metal frame, which showed four strange marks on each of its sides, a beautiful topaz, as beautiful as the sun, crimped in it. Her amulet of strength. Her family’s Holy Thunder. Unkown scores...Many emotions clashed inside her mind. Was it really dead? How? Why did she cared? The creature was just lying there. Her father didn't even had the percussion to recover his blade. Just as she stared at the dead body that lied over the ground she couldn't advert the hoof of her father, who with unused strength pulled her out of the house. "Come on Windsong let's go!!!" Before she could think anything else both of them were already taking flight, and from the height she could see her little shack as it was being engulfed by fire. Just as every other house in town. Smoke was rising from the ground, occluding the sunlight, and on the other islands of firm ground, fire was shining above them like if they were flying braziers as far as her sight could see. Screams and metal clashes resounded in the distance, and a general noise of drums, bells and trumpets could be heard in the background as the helpless villagers tried to advert of an attack that was already in process. Windsong felt dizzy just by realizing how large the battle was. The fire hadn't just come to her island. It was in all the world now. Around them, figures moved and dodged in the black clouds, leaving only whirls of wind behind them. They moved and turned, yelled and soared before being lost in the smoke again, like pony sized flies in the middle of a black mist. She tried to follow them with her eyes, but in a moment they became too many to count. From time to time, other kind of figures appeared through the smoke, fast diving from the heights like arrows and taking down the other ones who were flying more erratically. Windsong stared baffled at them. They were fast, aimed and made a whistling noise while they fell. Just as the one that had destroyed her home. As she saw them start to fall in groups that formed small rains, she thought of the size of the creature's wings… "WATCH OUT!" her father suddenly took her off course and dodged. A second later, a black figure passed them soaring like a lightning of shadow, making that whistling noise while it left a whirl of smoke behind it. Windsong was about to ask, but then her father pushed her again. "Dodge!" More of them started to fall. From the blackness, the figures of the enemy began to rain around like if they were aimed towards them. Windsong didn't had time to say anything before her father began to drag her around. He started to twist and turn in manners that only his fully developed wings could carry him, but she as a filly began to fall back. Either way that wasn't impediment for her new burst of energy. Inside her the fire was roaring, consuming her soul with every new maneuver. It didn't matter that her muscles ached or her lungs burned, she hadn't ever felt so alive, as if she could order her body to do anything, and it would obey her! But her luck wasn't infinite, and even though her father was putting a tremendous effort in evading, the weight of having to carry her daughter around was what ultimately doomed them. Windsong didn't felt the one that hit them, at least not directly, but as she suddenly found herself whirling without control, the almost painful sound of armor at splintering filled her ears and a warm liquid stained her face. Just as her wings were able to fight the momentum of the force that had set her off course, something hit her body and squashed her against it. Windsong hit her head against it, and only by miracle she didn't lose her conscience. The world started to spin around, and a sensation of sickness sparked behind her eyes, but somehow something inside her put that to rest and returned the sense of direction. When she recovered she found herself lying on the grass, and watching at what surely was another island, floating amidst the fire and smoke. There were houses at some distance, but those had suffered the same fate as hers and the whole town was ablaze. She tried to stand up, but her left side hurt, and her wing felt as if it had been twisted in a manner no limb should be able to. The moment she tried to display it to fly away, the pain was such that she almost fell unconscious. It probably was broken. This was bad. Not only was she stranded in a torched island in the middle of a battle, but she was alone now. Her father lost during the confusion of the attack… Speaking of such. "Dad?" she called, but the sounds of the carnage were her only answer. "Dad!" she called louder, but her own voice seemed to get lost in the vastness of the world. Windsong turned around, trying to locate whatever she could recognize in order to know where she was, but to no use. Everything looked the same: ravaged and on fire. The only thing that could be seen were the thousands of flying things that battled and revolted in the sky, like a swarm of flies, praying upon rotten food. Windsong stared at it for a moment, then resolved to continue looking for her father. This wasn't the time nor the place to marble at the maximal expression of death. She had to find her father and she had to find him fast- Something landed on the island. The being released a sustained whistle while it flew and shook the earth at contact. Windsong didn't have to look at it to know that the same kind of creature that had destroyed her home was now in land. The first one was accompanied by another, and another, and after that several creatures started to fall upon the place, over the torching town where they created even more explosions of fire and lightning. Windsong looked at where the creatures had started to descend, and wondered if she could sneak through them, but in that moment something else called her attention. Just at the entrance of the first house, that had been toppled down and was burning, a beam shook with a fickle movement. Windsong immediately jumped into guard stance, and stared at the burning wood as it lied there, inert. She waited for a couple of seconds, and was about to disregard it when another movement confirmed that there was something below that trunk. With care, and a stick strong enough that she found a few yards away from the place, Windsong narrowed to the moving beam. The trunk tried to rose up, but after a second yielded. She jumped back when it seemed like it could come out of there, but dismissed it when the beam returned to that lying stance, and continued narrowing. She was almost on top of it. The fire inside her was screaming to her conscience to do it. To kill it! To taste blood! She jumped over the beam. The branch was being wielded in her mouth as a mace and was ready to squash anything that was below the- Her courage suddenly extinguished. The branch fell from her mouth, and her face, fierce and feral, dropped when she discovered who was under the consuming beam. His armor had been shattered, and the shredded pieces of metal were stuck in his skin, that was sipping red. On his side, just below the right wing, a splinter so thick it could be used as a stake, was meeting his flesh, and the red had spread to his feathers, tainting them almost to the tip of his limb. Reflecting in his face all the pain that he was feeling, her father gasped when he saw her. "Windsong!" he tried to exclaim, but was only able to whisper for the pain. "Are you alright child?" Windsong didn't answered, The shock was too heavy for her even to know what to think. "D-dad?" she muttered as well with a broken voice. Denial was what followed. "A-are y-you alright?" "I'm afraid not, child" he said before grunting in pain. "I'm not gonna make it…" a bloody cough came out of his lips. "You need to go, child. There isn't much time…" "No dad, don't die!" she cried, tears of despair already watering her eyes. "Not you!" "Windsong!" he tried to reach out a hoof but both were under the beam. "I'm done… You need to live… For me-" something in the distance interrupted them. The sound of a house being toppled down, but this time without the noise of an impact. Strange voices could be heard in the distance. Windsong returned to her father, even though those voices could be heard every time closer. "Go child" he nodded away. "Go, for Angel's sake!" Something was broken a few yards away, just around the corner. Windsong would have argued with him to the last moment, but in that instant her self preservation instinct acted for her, and she fled to the nearest wall and hid beneath it. Again that sound of something being broken reached her ears, accompanied this time by the distinctive noise of a mare's scream. Immediately afterwards the frontage of the next house went down, and a female hippogriff leaped forward, trying to fly away only to be followed by one of those creatures, that emerged from the flames as if it were a demon. The hippogriff, as soon as she found herself in the open, began to take flight, but the creature, extending its vast wings as well, caught up to her in no time, and dragging her by the tail returned her to the ground once more. The hippogriff hit the grass with a gasp of pain, but that was the least of her problems. At that second, a spear had appeared wielded by the monster in the other of its frontal claws, and just as the hippogriff had the time to look up and take air the tip was already aimed for her, and then- Windsong couldn't watch it. She returned back to her hide as the screams of the hippogriff were suddenly silenced and imagined a red liquid flowing through the ground with unnatural freedom. The weapon of the creature made another disgusting noise as it was retrieved from its victim's body, and a roar of victory filled the air. The beast exclaimed something in its strange language, but it was too far away for Windsong to understand. The only thing that was present in her mind in that moment was the picture of the creature savagely murdering that innocent mare. Windsong peeked again. The creature was secluded in smoke also, but when a wind started to blew, carried by the endless sky in the background, its cover slowly creeped away. At sight the terror that had been murdering her people since she had memory was revealed to Windsong. It had a shape resembling to an equine, but far larger. Normal pegasus and griffin would only reach it to its shoulders if not just slightly above, and the wings that were folded at its sides, the ones that she'd seen with membranes when fully displayed, presented patterns of feathers that shone with the fire in a strange subtle dance of colors. Its head was strongly resembling an equine, but it had membrane ears covered in fur, and, differently from the other one, it had two pair of horns, one above and the other at the height of its jaw, like some kind of large fangs. Behind these, a long mane extended down its shoulders and ended just slightly above its knees. That detail baffled Windsong completely, for the creature's mane, tangled and sweaty from frantic physical activity, displayed many colors in its pattern, just as it flowed and diverted in strange braids all along its length, a wild hassock of hair and feathers that also matched another one that started near the end of its reptile-like tail. It was wearing a golden armor and a strange chain at its neck that joined in a ruby in the middle of her chest, and all of it that could be seen between the scarce metal plates was covered in a strange mix between fur and scales that presented various stains of red, even in its mane, some of them still flowing down fro cuts in the strange creature's skin. The hind legs of the creature were just like a griffin, but unlike the griffin's those claws looked as if they could tear through flesh and armor with unused ease, and the forelegs were a strange combination of talons and hooves, like some kind of grotesque mutation that had turned them into horrible looking prehensile appendixes. The creature stared down at the hippogriff's corpse, which fortunately was hidden from view by a light elevation of the terrain. In its eyes a fire of violence burned bright, but differently from the first one she'd encountered, not without the distinctive look of a creature that has self awareness. The savage being looked at it with an indecipherable look for a moment before folding its spear, a golden piece that presented a shining blade at its end, under its wing. Windsong stared at the creature as it turned away, and looked as if it was readying to leave but her stupefaction prevented it to. Before it took off the filly slipped with a loose sone and fell to the ground. She tried to prevent it, but in her desperation she graved a torching stick. The contact with the burning wood and her fur being set alight was too much for her. Before she could silence herself a loud squeal of pain came out of her mouth. Windsong then fell to the ground. In that moment a thousand things went through her mind. Had it seen her? Was it too late? How could she’d been so foolish? And most important, could she run away? She hadn’t even seen it, and she know that it was turning its head to her. But her body had its own agenda, and before the creature’s sight could fix upon her, her legs came to life and pulled her back into her hiding place. She crouched before the burning remains of the house once again and waited, hoping as hard as she could that it hadn’t seen her. The creature, hidden from view, didn’t seem to react for a while, and after a minute or two the filly was emboldened enough to peek over her cover. It wasn’t there. If she hadn’t have reasons to fear, this one was a very powerful one. She felt how Windsong’s heart accelerated, and her breath became unstable with uncertainty. Her legs slowly backed away, and while the sounds of the carnage that was happening around were ever present, some kind of tense silence was floating in the air. She looked around nervously, but to no avail, her ears were risen in alert to spot it, but nothing that close was making a noise whenever it was. A cough made her jump. Under the beam, her father had given out his position. Her father… He was still alive! Windsong immediately headed for him, but even though the almighty impulse of coming back to him filled her thoguths, her reason forbid her to when a powerful flapping of wings revealed the position of her stalker. Rising a powerful wind with countless sparks from the fire, the creature appeared from over the roof, or rather just the remains, and glided down with unbelievable speed, breaking wood and stone as it landed just inches away from where the sound had came from, spear rose high. Windsgon had already stuck to her hideout once again, but in that instant, all hope of getting back with her father had faded away, just as an increasing sensation of desperation was replacing it. The creature had stopped where it was, and was looking around for the source, apparently without finding its prey. At first it looked as if it was about to desist, but when her father panted again, the being was immediately over him with the spear held high. Ready to kill. Windsong didn’t believe what she saw. She didn’t want it to. Just as she peeked over her cover once again and was ready to see it, surprise seized her eyes. The creature had stopped, in its face nothing less than absolute surprise. It didn’t made any sense, but either way she couldn’d do anything before it was done. “Ní féidir liom a chreidiúint é…” it spoke with an unmistakably feminine voice as she lowered her weapon. “Claíomh Spéir, cad iontas!" she exclaimed with a tone that Windsong could recognize as sarcasm and smiled with malevolence. "Dúirt mé leat go raibh an muid ag dul chun freastal ar arís..." Her father tried to move, but let out a growl of pain when the oppressive weight of the beam held him still. "Níl mé sásta ná tú, Brisselle…" he said, surprisingly in its language. “Ach ar a laghad, chríochnaigh sé ar an dóigh a raibh tú" he spitted with contempt. “Go deimhin…" her smile disappeared as she put one of her frontal legs on the beam, making him groan again. “Tá an t-am tagtha chun tú féin agus do neasghaolta go bás” she rose the spear once more. "Tá déanta agat síochána le do bandia?" Windsong couldn't see him, but by the space between phrases she could imagine him glaring back at her. "Cad atá á ag fanacht leat do?" he asked with the little strength he had. Brisselle just looked back at him, unshaken. "A dhéanamh-!” And the spear descended behind the log, making a heinous noise as it teared through flesh, though Windsong tried by any means to set that thought aside. The creature made a little effort when the metal touched his meat, and twisted it in order to retrieve its blade, making that nightmarish sound once more and taking it out covered in red. Then it folded the weapon under one of her wings once more, cleaning its blade with her white feathers. “Lig sé a bheith ar do bhealach a, ansin" she muttered as she turned away. "Amadán damnaigh…" But it wasn’t over. At least not for Windsong. Out of the many disgraces that life can depare to a misadventured soul as she was, the death of someone so close to her as was him shouldn’t be one that a filly should suffer. Yet there she was, walking away as carefree as if she’d just crushed a tiny insect, and there was he, the only stallion that had cared for her since she could recall and now would never see her grow old, or make friends, or tug her to bed, or be anything else than a memory, a chance long lost of what could have been, taken away by the cold reality of a balde of steel and a heartless enemy which didn’t even cared that she were taking away the only pony in the world who had ever been good to her. And perhaps the creature was unaware of it, but in the moment all of this dawned on her, something inside her broke. Only the fire was left, and it finally took over.
Iron and steelSmoke. Smoke rose from the horizon, which was odd considering how this place didn't ad anything resembling to firm land. Just clouds and blue, mixed with the chunks of everything that could have been a fickle illusion of dry land so long ago. The rest was sky, endless and boundless… And smoke. The day had never been clearer, it was always day in Skyland, the wind had never been softer, and yet the smell of burnt things reached her nose within minutes, with the same intensity as if it were right there where bodies were being put to the flame. What really woke her up, though, was when she felt the smell of iron an steel. The day was shining outside and the sky was still clear, but either way she knew that today was going to be different. Outside of her shack sunlight entered through the window, along with the stench of the fire, but, strangely, everything she could smell were iron and steel. Metal craft. Something cutting through flesh with unnatural purpose. She found it odd at first, because there wasn't any sign that they were outside, but yet there was a mute sensation in the air, like some kind of unknown terror that had snapped her out of her dreams by force. Something was going to happen. She could feel it. What really could be happening was that the battle was drawing nearer. Dangerously nearer again. Just as near as it always had been. As she'd always known. She sighed and got out of bed. The day's heat, already oppressive, was starting to become unbearable because of the flames. Like if the tongues of fire were carrying their scorching scent with them towards the town. Through the four walls of her humble abode, that heat was licking inside like the rain whenever it hit them. Strange, that something like that could happen… But it wasn't time to ponder about the structure for a thousand time. They were under attack. For a moment the drowsiness of her thoughts made her forget that outside the smoke had become so thick as to obscure the sun. New exclamations reached her ears, along with strange noises from the outside. Even though she couldn't make out most of it, the phrases and exclamations of the townsfolk she was able to hear as they flew around were enough to let her know what was happening. "They're at the Plough's plantation! They're killing everypony back there!" cried a mare. "Gather everything you can, you must evacuate this place before they come here!" shouted another, probably a guard. "Oh sweet Angel please protect me! I don't wanna die!" More shouts came from the outside, but she dismissed them after that. It hadn't been different since she could recall, and all of those ponies hadn't been nothing else to her than terrible people. Always calling her demon, or marked child because of her colored mane. At first it was just the adults, but after a point even the other fillies, when there were other fillies, started to push her away. Just because she had something different; the one single characteristics that, according to the last town preacher, made her like them… Before he was left behind in their last settlement as well. But that was history now. The fire and the screams, on the other hoof… Something broke through the walls. The wood suddenly snapped and crashed, and the structure collapsed, making a sound as it bent more than it was allowed to. She immediately fell to the ground, covering her head until she realized it hadn't been her house the one that had been crushed, but the neighbor's. She got up again, just as the screeching sound of a mare's cry reaped the air. In the distance, another house bent and snapped accompanied by the frantic voices that suddenly rose from the window. She tried to reach for the door, but before she knew something hit the ground with tremendous strength, making it shake and her to reconsider her initial intentions. The screams got higher, this time not only letting away fear, but panic. The sole feeling that had unexpectedly engulfed all the others in the world. More impacts around the house made the earth shake until she tripped again. The smell of metal was now one mixed with a warm sensation. Something liquid was zipping from her mind, over a stained surface upon which danced the lights of a thousand fires. What was happening to her? She felt that taste in her mouth, and into her head. Something was filling her. Quiet at first, but constantly growing as it made itself be heard by her conscience. Some mad desire to storm outside and be part of whatever was happening behind those walls. As soon as she got up again she stepped away from the door. Something suddenly was heard outside. "Run! They're here! They're…" The scream suddenly choked, and more indescribable noises filled the air. Just as she reached her bed again, some cold sensation started to grow in her stomach, and every nerve o herself began to feel a mesmerizing wave, like a long lost tension that was returning to her body. Some part of her now wanted for everypony else to get killed, but another wished that they wouldn't know better. It was difficult to stand an opinion, but after all she and her father just had about enough from the others to start questioning wether if it would be good to remain on their side or not- That fire again. A bewildering sensation to be one with the outside, to burst out from those doors and revel in everything that was happening. It was almost a physical need. Her heart was burning, and it was demanding her to be outside, to know what was happening, to be with them… Something hit upon the door. The wooden plank that served as the entrance shook and bounced back with the sudden pressure that was put to it. By that moment she had already hid under the bed. Another strike, this time twice as hard, that combed the wooden piece to the inside. She tried with all her strength not to cry, but when another blow toppled down the door she found herself not only fighting against her body to remain stealth, but her anxiety, that had risen again, and was shouting in her mind to fight. The trespasser stepped inside, the plates of armor clicking while they moved against each other. The unknown stranger was walking towards her bunk bed. She waited while the hooves of the invader clopped on the ground. The fire within her was starting to light again, telling her to step up and kill whatever was inside her home or die in the intent. Her tendons readied for the leap, and her vision narrowed. At any moment he would be stepping before her sight and then- "Wind?" the voice broke through like a plea. A desperate call from a stallion's voice that she instinctually recognized. Wind? "Wind Song, where are you!?" "Dad?" she came out of her hiding place, her flame suddenly extinguished. "What's going o-" But before she gave a step her father’s legs had already wrapped around her. "Child thank Angel you're fine!" he exclaimed, then broke away. "Come on, we need to go, NOW!" She ended up a few steps away from him, and in that single moment, the reality of her existence dawned on her. She wasn't her… Or the one she thought she was. A pair of wild eyes instead, two powerful wings at her sides, and a large-wild mane in the pattern of colors of the rainbow shone over the armor of the stallion that had brought her to life. She wasn't anything at all like the self she remembered, even the one that she imagined. If that was the image she had given to the world it wasn't strange that they considered her something along the lines of a demon! But wether great or not was the impression in her, it was only a second, and after that the reality that surrounded her came once again into action, this time evolving her with a more vivid volley of sensations. More screams and sounds of battle reached her ears again, and outside, the light of the sun had turned into a shade of brown and red. Like if a stain of blood had watered the sky. "Get your saddlebags, we're flying back to Thundercloud keep" he continued as he reached the door and peeked outside. "…Let's hope the fifth cohort is still standing." She, or Windsong, as she was her actual self, had already clad her bags, and was about to head for her father when something else breached into the shack. A sound that her ears recognized all too late before disgrace struck completely. The terrible whistle that announced, barely seconds away, that a physical body was flying straight to their home, ready to smash it. Her father, who had the time to hear it too, was only able to turn and reflect in his face all the fear that had been lighting inside him, that now had turned to panic. "Windsong, dodge-" But he wasn't able to finish when something suddenly crushed the ceiling, and tumbled down the wall, creating a huge crackling sound as fire and smoke followed the projectile inside their home. Windsong flew across the room and hit the opposite wall with such strength that she found it odd not to break it down as well. The filly fell to the ground, with her head spinning and her ribs and wings aching as if she'd broken them, but she was able to put herself in her fours before her mind could asses the situation. Before her, everything that her sight could see had been covered in blackness and fire. Smoke and flames were rising at the time they were slowly eating the flammable materials of her shack. There was no sign of her father or the thing that had caused such destruction. "Dad?" she called, but immediately regret it for the cough that the smoke caused her. "Father, where are you!?" She immediately set for his search, but couldn't give more than two steps forward before stumbling into a trunk, that had been part of the ceiling. Windsong tripped with her face first, and fell right into the material that once had covered her from the sky, which now reeked of burning things. She pulled away again, coughing as she had swallowed all the smoke that thing was emanating. There was no sign of her father anywhere. "DAAAAD!!!" she shrieked when the fear began to take hold. A sudden movement was her answer, as something beneath the debris of the house began to move, setting aside beams as it rose. "Dad?" she turned, hoping to fin him… And muted. The creature that had stood up wasn't her father, it wasn't even equine. Standing on its fours, the beast rose from the fire it had caused, far taller than any pony she had seen, and spread her wings. Colossal bat-shaped wings eclipsed her sight, and in the middle of them, two eyes glowed in the center of a horned-shaped head. At the back of it, a large mane trailed from the pinnacle of the creature almost to its legs. Windsong stepped back in dizziness that its sight had caused to her, and releasing a grasp of terror and fascination she stumbled back with the corner of the room that she had impacted upon. The monster, upon hearing the thud of her head against the beams turned its terrible sight to her, and its eyes glowed in the fire with a wilderness that was beyond her comprehension… And yet… All the more known. The creature focused its attention on her, and snorted with fury. Windsong's heart beat at the speed of a furious drum. The creature started to narrow its distance between them, those eyes glowing more feral as they left behind the curtain of smoke. Windsong wanted to run, to fly away, despite all her guts yelled her to face that wretched monster. In the end the creature got passed the window that represented her only point of retreat, and then stood before her still shrouded in shadows. There was nowhere to run now. Windsong wanted to scream, but in that moment her lungs closed up, and the only breath that was allowed to be let out was that of a low, almost animal-like growl. The creature stood before her, staring at the filly with an intimidating and indecipherable look, but nothing more. Something suddenly had stopped it. Windsong had readied to sell her life costly, but at that moment her conscience began to regain control. Even started to see that creature… Different. It hadn't attacked her. It was just standing, staring at her with something in those eyes that she couldn't understand, and yet felt like it was something that they had in common. Almost as if they were- "YAAAAGH!!!" The battle cry of her father suddenly broke through the air, and with a leap attack the pegasus appeared from behind the creature. The monster, anticipating him, quickly dodged and let the pegasus pass her. Her father landed aside from the creature, but he hadn't lost his momentum, and in an instant was attacking again. The creature flapped its wings and stood in two legs, revealing while it did the shine of a sword's blade, swung at him. The pegasus dodged the blade as well, and differently from his opponent, he seised the space between them to charge, tackling the creature and tearing a hole in the wall as they engaged in struggle. Windsong watched everything, frozen in her place, and only when the two of them bounced out of the shack she snapped. Quickly she ran to the breach in the wall to see the two opponents trying to win the other, the creature pushing to get on top, and her father pressing from outside its grip not to get caught by its force. Both of them circled through the dirt and grass, tearing apart pieces of ground as they went back and forth in their melee. A whirl of emotions went through her. On one side she wanted her father to live, but on the other, that being, the one that was trying decapitate him, why didn't it attack her? Even though their kinds were at war she hadn't have the chance to see one up close, and even though she'd seen in more than one occasion the destruction that they had caused to her people, something still seemed to be attractive about them. Maybe, if she'd listen to the fire within her… But her father took that decision for her, and seizing an opening in the creature's guard, he entered sword first into the guts of the beast. The creature, feeling the blade pierce its skin, didn't yell, or growl, or moved in any way by the pain that the weapon was causing inside its body. It just seised the moment as well to send a punch straight at the pegasus' face, and with a mighty blow separated each other again. Her father flew backwards and landed on the ground, a few yards away, but recovered and got back up again. The creature, staring at him with inequine hatred, remained on its fours with the point of the blade sticking out of its silhouette, the handle surely being stuck in its entrails. The pegasus, who didn't had any other weapons, didn't had anything to do but stare frightened at his foe, who was limping in his direction. Windsong stared at this with her mouth quite open. It seemed as if the creature hadn't received any damage, and form its facial features that she could discern, pain wasn't peeking from none. For a moment she wondered how could anything alive was able to still be walking with that kind of wound, but her uncertainty wouldn't last, and the enemy, apparently exhausted from the wound, finally fave up its stance and fell to the ground, not moving anymore.
Feel the fire"DAAAAAD!!!" she screamed in horror and rage as she charged against her. "NOOOO!!!" The creature was distracted, because when she went for her, she didn’t react until the last second, trying to dodge but it was too late. The filly jumped over her and smacked her head with the stick that she’d picked up. The creature, which her father had called Brisselle, acted confused when she jumped over her shoulders, and let out a loud groan when she hit her head with the stick, setting ablaze some hair locks. Windsong released a war cry when she hit her, and was about to do it again, but this time she didn't had the element of surprise. Brisselle, collecting herself suddenly extended her wings, and in an unexpected move caught Windsong between the momentum of the two of them, propelling her away like some kind of living ammunition. Windsong tried to take flight in mid air, but when her broken wing felt the air resistance she let out a scream of pain. She landed a few yards away, not being able to control her weight as it made her roll over the ground. Tears of rage and pain rolled down her cheeks when she finally stopped. The world was spinning, but that what had saved her before made it become still again. The fire returned, this time more alive than ever. It commanded her muscles to stop aching, and her lungs to use more air, even though it meat that they would be shred apart. Windsong got back on her fours, but her outburst of rage wouldn’t last long. As soon as she stepped up, a claw suddenly graved her by the neck and pinned her down again. She tried to resist, but the creature was just too strong for her, and she subdued her with no problem. “Coileán chapaillíní diabhal!” Brisselle groaned as it dragged her through the ground with no care and rose her to stare at her face with wrath. Windsong tried to fight her back, but the moment she saw the spear being prepared she knew there was no way out of it. She was going to die, just like that hippogriff, and just like her father. Brisselle rose her high, graved by the neck, and was ready to strike her. Windsong shut her eyes no to see that sight again and waited to feel the steel inside her and the bitter end after that… But it didn’t happen. When the blade took too long, the filly began to question the certainty of death, and when even the grab at her throat became lighter, yet not loos enough for her to escape, curiosity beat her and she opened her eyes again. Before her, contrary to everything she expected, the creature was staring at her not with anger, but with a frown of disengagement. Just as if something about her had just puzzled the being that had her life in its very claws. “Dodhéanta…” she whispered, disbelieved. “C-conas is féidir leat a bheith?” she asked immediately, as if Windsong'd have the answer to that question. Windsong frowned too. She was ready, more like resigned to, accept her death, but in that moment, the confusion of the being had found its way into her mind as well. Unluckily for both, none of them would have the chance to let out their doubts. “Brisselle!” another one called her. “Cad é an t-ábhar?” Both the alluded and Windsong turned to where the voice had come from. Making the noise of what Windsong could only relate to a hurricane, another one appeared from the fire and smoke, flapping her powerful wings as it teared apart the curtain of shadows to show the dozen escorts that were following her. Windsong opened her eyes wide. The companions were just like Brisselle, but the other one was taller, if that was possible, and bulkier, not to mention the length of her wings, far larger than those of the one that was holding her. Actually, in comparison, the other one looked as if she could bash a dragon’s skull with its bare claws. Her mane was tangled in more braids, and in more intricate patterns, but as it flew the wind was able to still play with it, making it dance with the colors of the rainbow. She was wearing an armor which blazed as she moved by some unknown power, and by her neck a beautiful topaz shone with the power of the sun as it was kept inside a masterfully done metallic frame. Windsong couldn’t notice in detail, but she could assure there were many strange symbols in her plates, and even in the frame of her necklace, which inscriptions were burning bright. Blood stains were all over her fur and scales too, but in her case those didn’t spoiled her beauty. They emphasized it. The sole majesty of the creature as it took land made Windsong forget for a moment that her life was in peril. Only when the giant creature turned her eyes to her, and showed within them all her disdain was the awesomeness spell broken. Brisselle, still with her held fasten, immediately bowed, but the other one didn’t return the gesture. “Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ag loosing do chuid ama, Birsselle?” she asked to her captor in a scolding manner. “Ní mór dúinn a bheith páirteach leis na clans eile sula bhogann siad ar gan orainn.” “Tá mé máthair brón orm” she bowed her head even lower. “Fuair distracted mé…” “Níl mé ag iarraidh do chuid leithscéalta” the taller one continued. “Ach a choinneáil ag gluaiseacht” she turned to the other ones, which had started to gather around. “Do lá atá inniu ann is é an lá a chur orainn ar ais ár dtalamh!” a clamor rose from the presents as she spoke. “Na siúlóirí scamall Beidh rue an lá a ionsaigh siad an Talamh Spéir!” A generalized shout responded to her words, but Brisselle didn’t move for some reason. “Bás do na siúlóirí scamall!” someone shouted in the background. Everyone cheered again in those fierce roars but Brisselle. Her grip to Windsong had only fastened. “Máthair!” she called at the tall one, that by the respect the others had shown surely was their leader. “Tá mé rud éigin ba chóir duit a fheiceáil…” the leader heard her, and while her face became annoyed, she took the liberty to walk to her. When she was facing her captor, Brisselle rose the filly once again, showing her to the leader. “Inis dom go bhfuil sí ach chapaillíní ar coileán.” Brisselle handled her to the leader, and snatching her as if she were a piece of chinaware, the other one took her by her mane. She tried to break free, but that only fastened her captor’s grasp, and caused her even more pain. Windsong’s eyes watered from the way she was being held, but when she faced the eyes of the other creature, the agony was put almost to a secondary plane by the impression that she gave her. The eyes of the leader weren’t at all like those of Brisselle. In her stare Windsong found a thousand different thoughts, and a bright so enrapturing that even though they started to show disengagement, she couldn’t do anything else but to stare at them, baffled. Almost like if she had encountered something as beautiful as it was dangerous. It almost made her forget that the leader’s face had turned from one of annoyance to one of confusion, and finally had given way to utter repulsion. “Ní féidir é seo a bheith…” she muttered as well with disbelief. “D’fhéadfadh sé?”
A blood-stained legacy“Ní mór go mbeadh aon marthanóirí” said someone at the leader’s back. “Ní mór dúinn iad a mharú go dtí an ceann deireanach!” The other ones chorused their agreement, but the leader just seemed to ignore them. She just stared into Windsong, narrowing her eyes as if she’d be looking for something… To refute herself. “Fan!!!” suddenly exclaimed another one. “Ná Gortaítear di, máthair! Le do thoil!” The crowd opened to let the one that had spoken jump to the fore. She was like the rest of them, but in her neck, the stone that shone wasn’t a ruby, but a diamond, that bright shiny like the stars. “Veesha” the leader let down Windsong, who finally was able to breathe, and turned to the pleader, not any less vexed. “Cad é an bhrí atá leis an?” The alluded one took a step forward, but she doubted before speaking. As if she weren’t so sure of what to say. “Bhuel… I-” “Beidh mé insint duit cad atá ag tarlú, máthair” interceded Brisselle. “Do curadh feall ar tú” she glared at Veesha. “Tá do iníon chúpláilte leis an namhaid!” she pointed at her with her spear, accusingly. A generalized wave of gasps and whispers rose from that gesture. The rest of the pack began to whisper among themselves, surely out of surprise of Brisselle’s action. Brisselle herself let out a sufficiency smile but the joy wouldn’t last her long, for as soon as she ended her phrase, the eyes of Veesha had lit themselves with fire again. “Soith tú!” she shrieked as she leaped for Brisselle, reaching her before she could do anything and beginning to struggle. “Cén chaoi a dare a rá leat rud éigin mar sin?” she continued shouting while trying to reach her neck. “Ó do dheirfiúr féin!” Both of them rolled over the floor. Bristle seemed to gain the upper hand at first, but Veesha soon turned out to be too strong for her, and with the help of a mouth that she showed full of fangs she pinned her down, and subdued her opponent. Brisselle, seeing herself caught, began to exclaim something that Windsong couldn’t understand. Probably asking the others for help. Either way, she wouldn’t have to wait much. As soon as Veesha showed her superiority, the powerful claws of the leader broke them apart. “An dá de tú, stop a chur air seo an toirt!” she roared so loud that, Windsong was sure, she could be heard from an island apart. “Brisselle, ar shiúl ó dom!” she yelled at her. Brisselle looked as if she had punched her in the face. “Ach mháthair-” “Anois!” she bombed again. “Agus ná teacht ar ais go dtí go thoghairm mé tú!” Brisselle left the place in the act, but not with a scolded face, as Windsong had expected her, but with one of pure terror drawn across her features. When she turned back at the scene, the leader was already facing Veesha. “Agus tú, Veesha” she said, her look as furious as if she could set her ablaze right where she was standing. “An bhfuil sé seo fíor?” The alluded one looked as if she were about to speak, but then seemed to doubt, and looked as if she would object against it, but when her eyes set on Windsong’s her face dropped completely. “Tá sé, máthair” she said, lowering her head not to show a tear that only seemed to caught Windsong’s sight. “Bealtaine Eion logh mo laige.” Windsong could’t make a word out of it, but by the reaction of the rest of the presents, of general repulse and disgust, she instinctually knew it wasn’t good. “Sin an méid a bhí eagla mé” she muttered, then turned to the others. “Tá ag gach duine, ag éisteacht!" she called with a booming voice. "Beidh tú in ann a ithe cad mharaigh tú… Ach amháin le haghaidh Veesha” she turned to her. “Beidh sí ag ithe dó" she sentenced as she nodded at the place where Windsong’s father lied, under the beam. Here eyes then fixed on the alluded one, still with rage. “Agus má leomh leat chun cónaí i ndiaidh an chatha…” she walked to her, and with her claw ripped her necklace from her. “Ansin, beidh muid ag freastal ar ár claimhte” she stared directly into her eyes. Veesha refused her gaze. “Tá tú aon iníon a thuilleadh de mo.” Veesha stepped backwards, the shame showing so bright in her face that even Windsong felt sorry for her… Nevertheless, for the creature the torment had ended for now, and hers was just about resume. “Agus cad mar gheall ar an leath-cine?” asked another one as she grabbed her by the neck again. The leader didn’t respond, but looked at Windsong again. In her eyes there wasn’t anything but contempt for her to be found. That kind of hatred that can end a life in a matter of seconds. Windsong would have wrestled her captors claw to break free, but in that moment the fire had returned. Well, if she was gonna give her life, it wouldn’t be the easy way. “Bring it on!” she dared her, with as much courage as she pretended to have. “I-I’m not afraid of you!” “Cad é atá tú ag dul a dhéanamh, máthair?” asked her captor again. “Cad ba cheart dúinn a dhéanamh léi?” Again she didn’t spoke. Windsong couldn’t see anything in her face save for that anger, that hatred towards her as she snatched her again, and with that firm grasp dragged her along as she moved inside the town. The grasp on her mane made her squeal and tear, but the leader didn’t let her go until she herself had walked a few houses away, followed by her kin for what she could see, and reached the center of the town. Once there she stopped, but her grip didn’t loose. If anything it became fastener. “Claíomh” she stood in her two rear legs and extended her other claw. One of the others that were following put a sword in it, a piece that judging by its design was pegasus-made, and retreated back. Windsong would like to know what was happening with the others, but she was graved in order to look to the front. She could barely see the solemn, yet disdaining expression by which the leader was staring at her.
Holy Thunder This time there was no time to prepare. She couldn’t mentalize for what was coming at her, and this time the tears that fell from her eyes weren’t from pain anymore, but from fear, from frustration that she was doomed to die in such a horrible manner… But again it seemed that destiny had other plans. The sword didn’t touch her, but it made a horrible scratching noise when it teared through stone and dirt, sending out sparks into the filly’s face, who groaned when she felt them burn her fur. The leader, on her side, didn’t say anything until she made sure the sword was at least half way inside the earth and then let her go. Windsong broke out from her as if she were still trying to kill her, but didn’t moved an inch before stumbling on the sword’s blade, firmly stuck in the floor. When she looked back the leader had stepped back a few steps, and was glaring at her with pure hatred, as if she were waiting for her to pick the weapon and fight her. “You” she spoke instead with a forced accent. “Pick it up when you have the strength” Windsong took a moment to realize she was speaking of the sword. The filly wiped a tear from her cheek, but didn’t back away, this time resolved to defy her. The leader just dedicated another stern look at her in response. “Or don’t. It’s your choice” she turned away. “I’ll be waiting.” Again that hurricane rose from the ground, just as she made her wings flap to take her off. The rest of them followed her, and with the flapping of wings at unison, the wind that the flock of killers rose was comparable to a storm. Windsong didn’t care. She wouldn’t give anything else to that display of power. To her, those monsters had took away everything she held dear, crushed what little of filly she had inside. She looked at them as they departed, getting lost in the black clouds of smoke and the sound of the battle that still revolted around them, every time with less screams and clashes, and with more choirs of roars from what surely were the other creatures like them, claiming victory over their enemies, and soon-to-be meals. Windsong stared at the general direction of their flight even when there was nothing else to see. She hated them. She hated them with all her strength, and she’d never rest until every single one of them would be put to the sword as she had been: Amidst the fire and steel… Rainbow Dash didn’t woke up with agitation, as she’d done before. She wasn't screaming, nor were she struggling with some unknown foe that turned out to be her blanket when she recovered her senses. She was lying on the floor, that she could know, tired and achy as if she’d been through a full contact match and lost. Things around her room were in total disarray, even more than usual, and her bed was, strangely, set against the window, like if it had been disposed to prevent some unknown foe to enter through there. “What the he-OW!!!” she groaned when she tried to stand up. Her left wing hurt. “Tha heck?” With discomfort, mostly brought by her whole left side, Rainbow stood up, trying not to groan because of the pain that the fact of using her leg caused her. Just as she got up to her fours, she was able to better asses the deplorable estate in which her whole room was. What happened to this place? And what happened to her? The answer didn’t come straight away to her, but in the form of something hung up in her wall. A bright that caught her eye almost instantly when she passed them over it. But how could it be the cause to this? Of her nightmares? Of everything… It was a just gift she had received from her uncle Thunder Storm from outside Equestria. Nothing more than a good luck augury. An old pendant, at least the size of her hoof, which, according to her uncle, had been in her family for generations. A piece of jewelry that showed within a masterfully done metal frame, which showed four strange marks on each of its sides, a beautiful topaz, as beautiful as the sun, crimped in it. Her amulet of strength. Her family’s Holy Thunder.
Unkown scores...Many emotions clashed inside her mind. Was it really dead? How? Why did she cared? The creature was just lying there. Her father didn't even had the percussion to recover his blade. Just as she stared at the dead body that lied over the ground she couldn't advert the hoof of her father, who with unused strength pulled her out of the house. "Come on Windsong let's go!!!" Before she could think anything else both of them were already taking flight, and from the height she could see her little shack as it was being engulfed by fire. Just as every other house in town. Smoke was rising from the ground, occluding the sunlight, and on the other islands of firm ground, fire was shining above them like if they were flying braziers as far as her sight could see. Screams and metal clashes resounded in the distance, and a general noise of drums, bells and trumpets could be heard in the background as the helpless villagers tried to advert of an attack that was already in process. Windsong felt dizzy just by realizing how large the battle was. The fire hadn't just come to her island. It was in all the world now. Around them, figures moved and dodged in the black clouds, leaving only whirls of wind behind them. They moved and turned, yelled and soared before being lost in the smoke again, like pony sized flies in the middle of a black mist. She tried to follow them with her eyes, but in a moment they became too many to count. From time to time, other kind of figures appeared through the smoke, fast diving from the heights like arrows and taking down the other ones who were flying more erratically. Windsong stared baffled at them. They were fast, aimed and made a whistling noise while they fell. Just as the one that had destroyed her home. As she saw them start to fall in groups that formed small rains, she thought of the size of the creature's wings… "WATCH OUT!" her father suddenly took her off course and dodged. A second later, a black figure passed them soaring like a lightning of shadow, making that whistling noise while it left a whirl of smoke behind it. Windsong was about to ask, but then her father pushed her again. "Dodge!" More of them started to fall. From the blackness, the figures of the enemy began to rain around like if they were aimed towards them. Windsong didn't had time to say anything before her father began to drag her around. He started to twist and turn in manners that only his fully developed wings could carry him, but she as a filly began to fall back. Either way that wasn't impediment for her new burst of energy. Inside her the fire was roaring, consuming her soul with every new maneuver. It didn't matter that her muscles ached or her lungs burned, she hadn't ever felt so alive, as if she could order her body to do anything, and it would obey her! But her luck wasn't infinite, and even though her father was putting a tremendous effort in evading, the weight of having to carry her daughter around was what ultimately doomed them. Windsong didn't felt the one that hit them, at least not directly, but as she suddenly found herself whirling without control, the almost painful sound of armor at splintering filled her ears and a warm liquid stained her face. Just as her wings were able to fight the momentum of the force that had set her off course, something hit her body and squashed her against it. Windsong hit her head against it, and only by miracle she didn't lose her conscience. The world started to spin around, and a sensation of sickness sparked behind her eyes, but somehow something inside her put that to rest and returned the sense of direction. When she recovered she found herself lying on the grass, and watching at what surely was another island, floating amidst the fire and smoke. There were houses at some distance, but those had suffered the same fate as hers and the whole town was ablaze. She tried to stand up, but her left side hurt, and her wing felt as if it had been twisted in a manner no limb should be able to. The moment she tried to display it to fly away, the pain was such that she almost fell unconscious. It probably was broken. This was bad. Not only was she stranded in a torched island in the middle of a battle, but she was alone now. Her father lost during the confusion of the attack… Speaking of such. "Dad?" she called, but the sounds of the carnage were her only answer. "Dad!" she called louder, but her own voice seemed to get lost in the vastness of the world. Windsong turned around, trying to locate whatever she could recognize in order to know where she was, but to no use. Everything looked the same: ravaged and on fire. The only thing that could be seen were the thousands of flying things that battled and revolted in the sky, like a swarm of flies, praying upon rotten food. Windsong stared at it for a moment, then resolved to continue looking for her father. This wasn't the time nor the place to marble at the maximal expression of death. She had to find her father and she had to find him fast- Something landed on the island. The being released a sustained whistle while it flew and shook the earth at contact. Windsong didn't have to look at it to know that the same kind of creature that had destroyed her home was now in land. The first one was accompanied by another, and another, and after that several creatures started to fall upon the place, over the torching town where they created even more explosions of fire and lightning. Windsong looked at where the creatures had started to descend, and wondered if she could sneak through them, but in that moment something else called her attention. Just at the entrance of the first house, that had been toppled down and was burning, a beam shook with a fickle movement. Windsong immediately jumped into guard stance, and stared at the burning wood as it lied there, inert. She waited for a couple of seconds, and was about to disregard it when another movement confirmed that there was something below that trunk. With care, and a stick strong enough that she found a few yards away from the place, Windsong narrowed to the moving beam. The trunk tried to rose up, but after a second yielded. She jumped back when it seemed like it could come out of there, but dismissed it when the beam returned to that lying stance, and continued narrowing. She was almost on top of it. The fire inside her was screaming to her conscience to do it. To kill it! To taste blood! She jumped over the beam. The branch was being wielded in her mouth as a mace and was ready to squash anything that was below the- Her courage suddenly extinguished. The branch fell from her mouth, and her face, fierce and feral, dropped when she discovered who was under the consuming beam. His armor had been shattered, and the shredded pieces of metal were stuck in his skin, that was sipping red. On his side, just below the right wing, a splinter so thick it could be used as a stake, was meeting his flesh, and the red had spread to his feathers, tainting them almost to the tip of his limb. Reflecting in his face all the pain that he was feeling, her father gasped when he saw her. "Windsong!" he tried to exclaim, but was only able to whisper for the pain. "Are you alright child?" Windsong didn't answered, The shock was too heavy for her even to know what to think. "D-dad?" she muttered as well with a broken voice. Denial was what followed. "A-are y-you alright?" "I'm afraid not, child" he said before grunting in pain. "I'm not gonna make it…" a bloody cough came out of his lips. "You need to go, child. There isn't much time…" "No dad, don't die!" she cried, tears of despair already watering her eyes. "Not you!" "Windsong!" he tried to reach out a hoof but both were under the beam. "I'm done… You need to live… For me-" something in the distance interrupted them. The sound of a house being toppled down, but this time without the noise of an impact. Strange voices could be heard in the distance. Windsong returned to her father, even though those voices could be heard every time closer. "Go child" he nodded away. "Go, for Angel's sake!" Something was broken a few yards away, just around the corner. Windsong would have argued with him to the last moment, but in that instant her self preservation instinct acted for her, and she fled to the nearest wall and hid beneath it. Again that sound of something being broken reached her ears, accompanied this time by the distinctive noise of a mare's scream. Immediately afterwards the frontage of the next house went down, and a female hippogriff leaped forward, trying to fly away only to be followed by one of those creatures, that emerged from the flames as if it were a demon. The hippogriff, as soon as she found herself in the open, began to take flight, but the creature, extending its vast wings as well, caught up to her in no time, and dragging her by the tail returned her to the ground once more. The hippogriff hit the grass with a gasp of pain, but that was the least of her problems. At that second, a spear had appeared wielded by the monster in the other of its frontal claws, and just as the hippogriff had the time to look up and take air the tip was already aimed for her, and then- Windsong couldn't watch it. She returned back to her hide as the screams of the hippogriff were suddenly silenced and imagined a red liquid flowing through the ground with unnatural freedom. The weapon of the creature made another disgusting noise as it was retrieved from its victim's body, and a roar of victory filled the air. The beast exclaimed something in its strange language, but it was too far away for Windsong to understand. The only thing that was present in her mind in that moment was the picture of the creature savagely murdering that innocent mare. Windsong peeked again. The creature was secluded in smoke also, but when a wind started to blew, carried by the endless sky in the background, its cover slowly creeped away. At sight the terror that had been murdering her people since she had memory was revealed to Windsong. It had a shape resembling to an equine, but far larger. Normal pegasus and griffin would only reach it to its shoulders if not just slightly above, and the wings that were folded at its sides, the ones that she'd seen with membranes when fully displayed, presented patterns of feathers that shone with the fire in a strange subtle dance of colors. Its head was strongly resembling an equine, but it had membrane ears covered in fur, and, differently from the other one, it had two pair of horns, one above and the other at the height of its jaw, like some kind of large fangs. Behind these, a long mane extended down its shoulders and ended just slightly above its knees. That detail baffled Windsong completely, for the creature's mane, tangled and sweaty from frantic physical activity, displayed many colors in its pattern, just as it flowed and diverted in strange braids all along its length, a wild hassock of hair and feathers that also matched another one that started near the end of its reptile-like tail. It was wearing a golden armor and a strange chain at its neck that joined in a ruby in the middle of her chest, and all of it that could be seen between the scarce metal plates was covered in a strange mix between fur and scales that presented various stains of red, even in its mane, some of them still flowing down fro cuts in the strange creature's skin. The hind legs of the creature were just like a griffin, but unlike the griffin's those claws looked as if they could tear through flesh and armor with unused ease, and the forelegs were a strange combination of talons and hooves, like some kind of grotesque mutation that had turned them into horrible looking prehensile appendixes. The creature stared down at the hippogriff's corpse, which fortunately was hidden from view by a light elevation of the terrain. In its eyes a fire of violence burned bright, but differently from the first one she'd encountered, not without the distinctive look of a creature that has self awareness. The savage being looked at it with an indecipherable look for a moment before folding its spear, a golden piece that presented a shining blade at its end, under its wing. Windsong stared at the creature as it turned away, and looked as if it was readying to leave but her stupefaction prevented it to. Before it took off the filly slipped with a loose sone and fell to the ground. She tried to prevent it, but in her desperation she graved a torching stick. The contact with the burning wood and her fur being set alight was too much for her. Before she could silence herself a loud squeal of pain came out of her mouth. Windsong then fell to the ground. In that moment a thousand things went through her mind. Had it seen her? Was it too late? How could she’d been so foolish? And most important, could she run away? She hadn’t even seen it, and she know that it was turning its head to her. But her body had its own agenda, and before the creature’s sight could fix upon her, her legs came to life and pulled her back into her hiding place. She crouched before the burning remains of the house once again and waited, hoping as hard as she could that it hadn’t seen her. The creature, hidden from view, didn’t seem to react for a while, and after a minute or two the filly was emboldened enough to peek over her cover. It wasn’t there. If she hadn’t have reasons to fear, this one was a very powerful one. She felt how Windsong’s heart accelerated, and her breath became unstable with uncertainty. Her legs slowly backed away, and while the sounds of the carnage that was happening around were ever present, some kind of tense silence was floating in the air. She looked around nervously, but to no avail, her ears were risen in alert to spot it, but nothing that close was making a noise whenever it was. A cough made her jump. Under the beam, her father had given out his position. Her father… He was still alive! Windsong immediately headed for him, but even though the almighty impulse of coming back to him filled her thoguths, her reason forbid her to when a powerful flapping of wings revealed the position of her stalker. Rising a powerful wind with countless sparks from the fire, the creature appeared from over the roof, or rather just the remains, and glided down with unbelievable speed, breaking wood and stone as it landed just inches away from where the sound had came from, spear rose high. Windsgon had already stuck to her hideout once again, but in that instant, all hope of getting back with her father had faded away, just as an increasing sensation of desperation was replacing it. The creature had stopped where it was, and was looking around for the source, apparently without finding its prey. At first it looked as if it was about to desist, but when her father panted again, the being was immediately over him with the spear held high. Ready to kill. Windsong didn’t believe what she saw. She didn’t want it to. Just as she peeked over her cover once again and was ready to see it, surprise seized her eyes. The creature had stopped, in its face nothing less than absolute surprise. It didn’t made any sense, but either way she couldn’d do anything before it was done. “Ní féidir liom a chreidiúint é…” it spoke with an unmistakably feminine voice as she lowered her weapon. “Claíomh Spéir, cad iontas!" she exclaimed with a tone that Windsong could recognize as sarcasm and smiled with malevolence. "Dúirt mé leat go raibh an muid ag dul chun freastal ar arís..." Her father tried to move, but let out a growl of pain when the oppressive weight of the beam held him still. "Níl mé sásta ná tú, Brisselle…" he said, surprisingly in its language. “Ach ar a laghad, chríochnaigh sé ar an dóigh a raibh tú" he spitted with contempt. “Go deimhin…" her smile disappeared as she put one of her frontal legs on the beam, making him groan again. “Tá an t-am tagtha chun tú féin agus do neasghaolta go bás” she rose the spear once more. "Tá déanta agat síochána le do bandia?" Windsong couldn't see him, but by the space between phrases she could imagine him glaring back at her. "Cad atá á ag fanacht leat do?" he asked with the little strength he had. Brisselle just looked back at him, unshaken. "A dhéanamh-!” And the spear descended behind the log, making a heinous noise as it teared through flesh, though Windsong tried by any means to set that thought aside. The creature made a little effort when the metal touched his meat, and twisted it in order to retrieve its blade, making that nightmarish sound once more and taking it out covered in red. Then it folded the weapon under one of her wings once more, cleaning its blade with her white feathers. “Lig sé a bheith ar do bhealach a, ansin" she muttered as she turned away. "Amadán damnaigh…" But it wasn’t over. At least not for Windsong. Out of the many disgraces that life can depare to a misadventured soul as she was, the death of someone so close to her as was him shouldn’t be one that a filly should suffer. Yet there she was, walking away as carefree as if she’d just crushed a tiny insect, and there was he, the only stallion that had cared for her since she could recall and now would never see her grow old, or make friends, or tug her to bed, or be anything else than a memory, a chance long lost of what could have been, taken away by the cold reality of a balde of steel and a heartless enemy which didn’t even cared that she were taking away the only pony in the world who had ever been good to her. And perhaps the creature was unaware of it, but in the moment all of this dawned on her, something inside her broke. Only the fire was left, and it finally took over.
