The Great Snowball War

Chapters

Chapter 1: Snowball fights, snowball fights never change.
Chapter 3: It is well that snowball fights are so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of them.
Prelude: Now is the winter of our discontent.
Chapter 2: The only thing worse than winning a snowball fight is losing a snowball fight.

Chapter 1: Snowball fights, snowball fights never change.

A few days later, Gale led me to the Kicker Compound during the lead-up to the exercise. What had once been the courtyard of an old abandoned castle now served as the commons for the Kickers, and ‘twas a hub of activity as children ran this way about whilst their adult handlers monitored their activities. While not quite a blizzard, snowflakes were coming down in a steady torrent, covering everything in a fresh layer of snow.

On one side of the field stood a banner with a plain red flag. Around the banner were children busying themselves with shoveling snow into a rampart to defend the flag. Each wore a red scarf of the same color as the flag they were to defend. They were being watched over by a small group of adults, of whom I noted Sergeant Stalwart amongst their number.

Stalwart was giving instructions to a half dozen children, probably how best to build a rampart, if I had to guess based on the way he was gesturing at the mound of snow they were working on. Among them was his son, Cobalt Kicker, who nodded in agreement to whatever he was saying.

I also recognized the son of Lady Protector Shadow Kicker, the dark-grey coat of Ash Kicker. Though not quite yet a young adult, he was already developing the strong figure of his mother and possessed a dark-grey coat. I would be surprised if he did not grow into a well-muscled body like Lady Shadow.

Gale stopped next to the banner and turned to address me. “And here is where we will face my husband.”

“I see.” I climbed up the rampart to get a better look at the battleground, taking note that the rampart grew with each fresh layer of snow. “The snow is coming readily.”

“We have teams ensuring that.” Gale pointed at the sky, where several pegasi moved more snow clouds into the area above the field.

Once on top of the rampart, I scanned the terrain. The commons of the Kicker Compound was a large field—far larger than would have been needed for any normal children's game. Instead of a flat white field as I had expected, snow had been made to fall to form hills of varying size all about where the battle was to take place. Even now, I saw Lady Shadow flying about and o’erseeing the minutiae of the snowfall, likely to make for more diverse terrain.

More children were strewn about the field, many of them gathering snowballs on sleds which, once full, they dragged to their flag. While most of the ponies near me wore red scarves, the opposite end of the field was dominated by children wearing blue ones. On the far end of the field sat our objective—an unadorned blue flag tied to a banner. Mirroring our own efforts, children of our opposition were piling snow to build their own rampart.

I carefully studied the ground in order to memorize its features. “I see some terrain has been added.”

“A few simple hills,” Gale explained. “A flat plane is boring and leaves fewer options.”

“Aye, the children would learn little from that.” ‘Twas not difficult to figure out the purposes of adding those hills. Having an eye for the ground was an invaluable skill for a warrior, and as with most skills, was one best honed with experience.

“Exactly.” Gale fluttered up next to me to see the ground too. “They have cover to hide behind, plan ambushes from, or use as defensive positions.” She pointed at the skyline. “We will also bring in low-hanging clouds.”

I looked up and saw that the pegasi were not only placing clouds for the purposes of snowfall, but also to create platforms for ponies to land on. “Ah, aye,” I said. “The older children would be able to fly, and thus be able to use the height advantage to master the battlefield.” I frowned as I considered that dimension of the coming battle. “Hm, I suppose that will have to be dealt with in the usual ways.”

“Meaning?”

“I imagine thou wilt have to use thine own flight-capable pegasi to try and counter theirs,” I stated. “We will have few other counters to attacks from the air, for those children on the clouds will be able to pelt the children on the ground with virtual impunity.”

“We are a pegasus clan, aye,” Gale said. Though as I looked ‘pon the field of battle, could not help but notice that the new generation of Kickers were not solely pegasi. “Such thinking must become natural to us.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, I am looking at this from the perspective a ground-bound pony. I will have to remember that our most effective forces will be in the air.”

“That is only natural.” Gale waved dismissively. “It is something of an adjustment to go to war in three dimensions.”

“Aye, so my books have told me.” At Sergeant Stalwart’s suggestion, I had taken to reading some of the classics of military theory, and more than one passage had warned those bound to the earth how dangerous airborne enemies could be.

“The battlefield is very different from your books,” Gale cautioned.

“I am aware of that,” I insisted. “I did live through the Siege of Canterlot, Gale.”

Gale blinked. She was not used to me being more assertive with her. Something I intended on changing starting now. “Of course, I did not mean to imply—”

I narrowed my eyes. “That I am wholly ignorant of the ways of the battlefield? That I am a pampered unicorn noble whom does not know the realities of battle like proud warrior pegasi, and do not even know which way to point a spear?”

Gale’s only response to my chastisement was to flatten her ears to her head and grimace.

I felt a pang of guilt fall over me. It had been my intention to merely correct her impressions of me, not scold her. Over time, I had found the outright dismissal of pegasi towards ground-bound ponies such as myself where martial matters were concerned to be irritating. ‘Twas one thing to assume the ignorance of another where one’s field of expertise was concerned; ‘twas another to mistake ignorance with stupidity and treat the ignorant like simpletons. I could tolerate a number of things, but to be assumed a fool was not one of them. This was a topic for which I had to correct Sergeant Stalwart a couple of times, and now Gale. Though I made a note to try and be softer in my approach in the future.

I sighed. “Mine apologies, I did not mean to be so sharp with thee. I merely sought to correct a presumption.”

Gale shook her head. “Thou wert not without cause.”

I sensed that the both of us would be happy to move onto another topic. “How about we turn our attention to more practical matters than a few misspoken words? I am sure thou didst not bring me here without reason.”

“Aye, to the coming battle.” Gale turned her gaze to the field of battle. “Now, Dusk is fond of holding his best in reserve until he can strike a decisive blow.”

“A basic enough strategy,” I said. “No doubt he uses it to either beat back an offense or to strike when thy line is about to break.”

Gale nodded. “Or if he sees a chance to turn my flank. Or a weakness he must shore up in his lines. Or ... well, wherever the battle will be decided.” A scowl worked its way into her features as she examined the field. “I attempt clever feints and hidden strikes to draw him out of position. Alas, he knows me too well; always he is able to counter me in the end.”

“Dusk is a clever tactician from what I have heard, and a capable leader,” I conceded. From overhearing conversations, I had rarely heard a foul word spoken of him. At least where his abilities as a commander were concerned.

Gale grumbled under her breath. “Moreso than I, 'twould seem.”

Now I saw what vexed my friend. Gale was a capable, skilled, and intelligent warrior who had a devious mind that could cause no small misery to her enemies. The problem is that she did not possess the right combination of elements that made for a great leader. ‘Twas a simple fact that some ponies held that special spark—be it raw charisma, tactical and strategic brilliance, or some unidentifiable element—that let them lead others to great victories, while others did not. Gale was a perfectly competent leader, make no mistake, but she lacked that special something which her husband did possess, and I was reasonably certain that Gale knew it too.

That being the case, I put mine mind to work to find a solution to her problem. “I believe the key to victory is that we form an advantage he cannot easily surpass.”

“That was my goal in bringing you,” Gale affirmed.

Buoyed by her confidence, a practical solution came to me. “Aye, and I think I have a way to give us a decisive advantage right from the start.”

Gale grinned eagerly. “Oh really?”

I nodded. “If thou wilt have the children step beyond the rampart while I work?”

Gale nodded and raised a leg to catch everypony’s attention. “Children, to me!” She glided beyond the rampart as the children slowly followed after her.

Once everypony was safely away from the banner, I began drawing ‘pon my magic. With careful deliberation, I cast my spell and worked to form what I had envisioned. The sounds of cracking echoed before me as I formed walls of ice. Feeding the snow around me into the construct, the walls grew and grew, creating a tall structure topped with battlements. Once they were done, I added four towers to each corner of the building, all with a protective ceiling to prevent attacks from the air. The base of the structure now set, I added low walls in the hollow of the fort that would allow ponies to pelt anypony who attempted to force their way in, as well as some murder holes to allow ponies on the battlements to add their own fire to force back intruders.

Next, I formed a gate wide enough for two ponies to pass abreast. Then as a final touch I most enjoyed, I carved the front facade of a large skull into the entryway, making it so that ponies would have to walk into its mouth in order to enter the structure.

The gathered children oohed and aahed as I finished the ice fort, and even many of the pegasi managing the weather flew closer to see my work. I turned to Gale with a smile. “I trust that will do?”

“Most impressive indeed.” Gale smiled and slapped me on the back. “I knew I was right to ask thine aid, my dear friend.”

I felt quite pleased with myself. “I thought such a fortification would make it easier to defend our flag, thus freeing up more troops for offense or as a reserve.” I motioned to the fort. “Not to mention we will be able to dominate the area around the fort. Anypony on the ground or not flying too hard will be vulnerable to the children garrisoning the fort.”

“Thou art quite correct,” Gale agreed. “This will been a great boon to our cause.”

“That was mine intention.” I rubbed my chin as a thought occurred to me. “And such a building needs a name. I shall call it ... Fort Deathskull!”

Gale narrowed her eyes in a flat look. “Neigh.”

“Neigh?” I tilted my head in confusion. Why would she ever object to such a perfect name? Then I realized what her objection must be. “Ah, of course. I shall pay proper homage to the clan's materfamlias with its name: Fort Shadowskull. ‘Tis only appropriate that I honor thy clan considering this is taking place at your clanhold.”

To my surprise, instead of expressing her pleasure at my consideration towards her sensibilities, she groaned and applied her hoof to her face.

“What?” I asked. “I would have considered Kickerskull or Skullkicker, but those names do not sound quite right to me for some reason.”

“Perhaps a name that does not involve skulls?” Gale asked warily.

I spoke patiently with Gale, for she must not have realized the obvious issue with that suggestion. “But I have already shaped the entire gate into a massive skull.”

Ash gave the fort a contemplative frown. “‘Tis terribly ... menacing.”

“More like ‘tis a place of evil,” Cobalt groused.

“‘Tis not evil.” I scowled at the unjustified complaints. “Fort Shadowskull is made of mere ice, and ice is not evil, so it cannot be evil. Not unless I did something like summon a dark spirit to possess the place and haunt the entire compound, roaming ‘twixt the houses looking for unsuspecting ponies to devour in the dead of night. Something I have not done yet. And of course ‘tis menacing—‘tis a fort, ‘tis intended to be so intimidating to one’s foes that they will never even consider assailing it.”

“Moving on,” Gale cut in quickly, “let us concentrate on defeating my husband.” She gleefully rubbed her hooves together. “He will rue the day he thought to challenge me...”

“Shall I inflict a terrible fate 'pon him?” I wished to be helpful to my friend, and doing something horrible to her husband sounded like something that would make her happy.

“I would take that as a great kindness.” Gale hugged me. “Truly, thou art the very best of friends.”

“One does try,” I murmured.

Disinterested in the two of us showing public affection for one another, the children moved forward to begin exploring the wonderful fort before them. ‘Twas not surprising they wanted to see the key to our victory over their foes, and ‘twould be good for them to familiarize themselves with our defenses.

I broke the hug so that we could return to more practical matters. “And with Fort Shadowskull completed, what shall I do in the upcoming battle?”

“Thou art a cryomancer,” Gale said simply. “This is a battle of snow. Do as thou wilt. I expect you know how best to employ your magic, and Dusk will have few counters to thine abilities.”

“Most likely so.” ‘Twas not difficult to imagine that a cryomancer would have a great many advantages during a snowball fight. I could already imagine a dozen ways I could grasp victory for Gale’s team. “I do not expect too many complications. It should be a trifle to rout a bunch of children.”

“I should imagine so, aye,” Gale agreed. “But enough of that. It seems that my husband wishes to speak with us.”

Dusk was indeed making his final approach as he flew to us. For once he was without his armor, and instead for a heavy, blue cloak to protect him ‘gainst the cold. He landed before us and took a long look at Fort Shadowskull. “And what is the meaning of this, my dear Gale?” His gaze fell ‘pon me and I saw something twinkle behind his eyes. “Ah, now I see what games thou art playing, my beloved.”

I decided ‘twould be best for me to remain out of the conflict ‘tween husband and wife when they were in each other's presence. Though I did have to wonder how Gale felt about Dusk complimenting me. Dusk was something of a notorious flirt.

Gale gave her husband a smile as sweet as honeyed hemlock. “The game that ends in thy destruction, dearest heart?”

Dusk smiled right back at his wife. “Thou wouldst go so far as bring thy lovely magus friend into a game intended for children? Surely that is a bit much, neigh?”

“I intend to win my victory,” Gale announced. “There is no higher honor than that.”

Dusk wrapped a wing around Gale’s back. “Come now, 'tis intended to be an even contest. Already lovely Midnight has created an unfair advantage. Not unless she gives my team its own fort.”

Gale smirked. “Who said the battlefield would always be fair? Not I. Indeed, how many fair battles canst thou name? ‘Twill teach the children how to deal with battles where not all is equal.”

“Neigh, but this is intended to be,” Dusk insisted.

“If you think you are not equal to the challenge...” Gale removed herself from her husband’s touch and turned her back to him. “I had thought thou wouldst revel in proving thy skill on the battlefield, but ‘twould seem that I have overestimated thee.”

Dusk scowled and he puffed out his chest. “Very well then, but do not think thy victory is assured.”

“Dearest husband.” Gale placed a hoof over her chest, a wide smirk on her lips. “We both know nothing is certain on the battlefield, but the advantage is clearly mine.”

“For now it is,” Dusk said. “But mind the precedent thou wouldst set.”

Gale’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And what is that to mean?”

Dusk smiled sweetly for his wife. “I shall see thee on the battlefield, my dearest beloved.”

“Not if I see thee first,” Gale shot back.

Dusk smirked. “I never fail to see a beautiful mare such as thyself.”

Gale rolled her eyes, but still, her demeanor could not quite hide the slight smile she had as Dusk trotted away from us. In fact, she kept right on staring as Dusk left.

“Gale?” I poked her side. “Gale? Art thou well? Gale?” I poked her again, more vigorously. “Gaaale? Gale? Gale?”

Gale’s eyes seemed glassy and unfocused as she spoke. “Aye?”

“Thou hast been staring off after thy husband for some time.”

The focus returned to Gale’s eyes and she blinked a couple of times. “He is somewhat upon my mind.”

“Aye, no doubt he plots for our ignoble downfall,” I said.

Gale cleared her throat and shook her head. “I would expect nothing less of him.”

“Then we were better to plot right back.” I looked out towards where Dusk’s flag sat. In order to win, we needed to take that flag, and take it back to our own.

Gale grinned with a baleful air. “I intend to.”

I grinned right back, and for some reason, the children around us shuddered.

The roaring call of a bugle announced the start of the contest. The traditional war song was met with calls and cheers of the children on both sides of the field, and the two opposing forces charged one another with youthful exuberance. Instead of this being a mere rabble of children, however, the heirs of the Kicker Clan has been organized into an army of its own right. Each child had been put into a squad, and each squad in turn had its own leaders, which served as part of platoons, and the platoons as companies. While they did not move forward with the discipline and rigidity that would be expected of a proper army, there was still an organization to the chaos that spread before me. Every squad even had a pony responsible for dragging a sled full of snowballs with them for ammunition.

The pegasi capable of flight streamed forward in their formations, and they were the first to make contact with the enemy. They darted around one another, maneuvering to smite each other with snowballs, using the clouds as covers, and using their pegasi magic to scoop snowballs out of the clouds to gather more munitions.

While most of the children gleefully charged into battle, I trotted towards the front at a more sedate pace. Traditionally speaking, magi did not lead from the front, as that task was best handled by warriors in heavy armor and wielding mighty weapons. Neigh, my talents were better served away from the thick of the melee.

Thus, I climbed a large mound of snow to see how the battle progressed and to best judge where to bring my skills to bear. Unsurprisingly, each side’s ground forces had met at about the halfway point of the battlefield. The children pelted one another with snowballs and one side or another began pushing the others line back. The children who were hit began the process of straggling back, having been eliminated for the round. Twin lines of red and blue pushed ‘gainst one another.

After a careful examination of the battlefield, I did not see any of the lines in an immediate threat of breaking. I decided to fix that.

I trotted directly towards the front. I decided that my first objective should be to remove Dusk’s forces from a large snowmound that dominated the halfway point of the left part of the field. It was badly stalling Gale’s troops from advancing, and I had the suspicion that Dusk would merely have this children stay on top of that mound and whittle down any forces sent against it while he concentrated his offence on our right. If that was the case, I had every intention of disrupting his plans.

Checking the sky every so often to make sure I didn't have a whole platoon of pegasi coming down upon my head, I made my final approach to my opposition’s defensive line. Gale’s reds were making a valiant effort of trying to make some headway. The braver among them charged the snowmound, threw their snowballs, and then ran as fast as they could. Shame ‘twas likely a hopeless effort; for every snowball thrown by Gale’s team, at least five were thrown by Dusk’s blues, and from a better position to do so. They had the advantage of using the snowmound for cover and did not have to run about to hit their targets. As things stood, a breakthrough here was unlikely.

That is where I came in. I stopped short of the Blues’ range, weighing how best to turn the tide. I decided on my course, and my horn glowed as I drew ‘pon my magic. I first created a sphere of pressurized air, then covered it with snow. Soon the sphere was as larger than I, and ready for my purposes.

With an effort of magic, I launched the large snowball into the air. As intended, it reached the apex of its arc and fell back towards the ground—right behind the protection the snowmound offered the Blues. A mere second before ‘twould have struck the ground, the magic holding the pressurized airball broke. The air pushed outwards in its natural attempts to even air pressure, and my snowball exploded. The Blues screamed with surprise as they were pelted by clumps of snow.

I smiled as I eliminated at least a dozen them with a single blow. Not content to give them the opportunity to rally and counter, I made another one of my snowballs and launched it a little bit further along the snowmound. Once again, my attack resulted in more shrieks.

Twice more I struck, making sure waves of snow overlapped one another ensure that luck could be the only reason anypony on that snowmound would remain unscratched.

Part of me felt sorry for the children that had been eliminated from their exercise. Several of them were arguing quite vigorously with the adult adjudicators of the exercise ‘bout the unfairness of the bombardment I had inflicted ‘pon them. Though based on the frowns of the adjudicators and the way they were pointing for the Blues to move themselves to the sidelines, their arguments fell on deaf ears.

Still, better they learn ‘bout the dangers of magi on the practice field than against warlocks or the spellcasters of other peoples. Being hit by a little bit of snow was far better than getting hit by a fireball that would burn your coat away and send the flesh underneath cracking and peeling until the body’s fat started to boil, where the best you can hope for is disfiguring scars that would last for the rest of your life. Truly, snow is much kinder.

As long as you are not crushed underneath it and then have to suffer from frostbite and starvation until the elements finally claimed you.

Aye, these children would be fine by the end of the day.

I turned my mind from such matters to concentrate on defeating the Blues. The children about me were still staring in wide-eyed amazement at my display of magic. Knowing that the advantage won would be lost if we did not act, I waved for them to move forward. “Charge!” I cried. “Their line is broken! Charge and take the hill!”

My words broke the charm they had been under, and they let out a cheer as they leapt into action. I went with them, determined to see the job through. Only sporadic fire met our advance. A couple of particularly brave (or mayhaps foolish) Blues flung snowballs down on us as fast they could throw them. One of them picked me as a target, but his attacks were in vain. It was barely an effort for me to snatch the snowball from the air with my magic and return it to its sender. The snowball struck the stunned colt on the chest, eliminating him as a threat. His compatriot fell soon after him as the children with me hit him with a volley of snowballs.

We reached the top of the snowmound and the children cheered at their victory. A lucky trio of Blues were racing down the opposite side of the slope in an attempt to retreat. Pity for them the children around me had their blood up and were determined not to let them escape so easily. The Reds threw their snowballs down the hill and struck down the routed Blues.

While the children of Gale’s team revelled in their victory, I concentrated on our next objective. Mine eyes examined the battlefield, and as I expected, I saw a counterattack gathering. Older Blues on the ground were making their way towards our position while a flight of skyborn pegasi were maneuvering for a dive ‘gainst the hill. ‘Twould not surprise me if Dusk had seen the danger to his battle line and had committed at least some of his reserves to pushing us back.

Seeing what was coming for us, I knew what needed to be done. “Children!” Several children were already running down the snowmound to chase after their foes, but I called out to them in the most commanding voice to halt them. “Spread out across the snowmound! The Blues are gathering for a counter-attack, and we must be ready to meet them!”

I worried that the children would not listen to me, for I was a stranger to them and Gale had not given me any official position in her pint-sized army. But whether ‘twas because I was an adult, that my instructions sounded wise to them, or because I carried a sufficiently commanding presence, they did my bidding. They scattered ‘bout the snowmound and began making piles of snowballs to meet their opponents.

Deciding to further entrench us, I summoned more of my magic and drew upon the snow drifting through the air to make a low wall along the ridge of the snowmound. The children readily saw the purpose of the wall and took position behind it. For myself, I piled scores of snowballs besides me.

The first threat to reach us were the Blue pegasi diving down through the low-hanging clouds. ‘Twas likely they planned to hit us at top speed, get behind where the snowmound would protect us, unleash their munitions when they reached the bottom of their dive, and then pull away before we could return effective fire. They would then gain altitude to hit us again so as to soften up our position for their ground forces.

Pity for them they were going up against a magus who knew their intentions.

The children shuffled ‘bout me, waiting to dodge out of the way of the snowballs they knew were coming. They needn't have worried; the Blues reached the nadir of their descent and loosed their snowballs. They streaked at us, only to splatter impotently against the shield I drew up to meet them.

Their munitions spent, the Blues pulled up to get away. ‘Twas at moment they slowed when I struck, dropping the shield and launching a wall of snowballs into their ranks. While some saw what was coming and made last-second dodges, the majority of their numbers were smitten. Their movements became jerky at the sudden interruption to their flights, and adjudicators moved in to announce that they had been eliminated for the round.

Once I was confident that their formation had been broken, I turned to the ground forces approaching us. ‘Twould not be long before their march would bring them within our range. There were about a hundred of them marching towards us; they outnumbered us better than five to one, and even with the advantage of defense, ‘twould be difficult for my fellow Reds to hold the snowmound.

An unsettling possibility came to me: if their leaders and warriors were made of stalwart stuff, they could approach the edge of our throwing range and then order a charge. While they would likely suffer significant casualties from the attack, they would quickly be ‘pon us, negating our height advantage and would simply swamp us with their numbers in such a melee. That assumed the morale of the children about me even held. Being charged by a superior force could easily cause them to flee in fear of being struck down by compact balls of frozen water.

‘Twas a good thing I was here to keep that from happening, then. Seeing no reason not to keep using something that was obviously working, I created three more of my large exploding snowballs and then waited.

As I suspected they would, the Blues stopped short of our effective throwing range. Their leaders shouted encouragement for their charge, and with a chop of one of the youngsters’ hooves, they ran forward in a wave.

I waited until they came well within our range before I struck, unleashing my three snowballs into their ranks. Right as they flew over the Blues’ formation, they exploded and peppered the children below with snow. Great holes were torn through their ranks, and their advance faltered. To their credit, some of the Blues kept up the charge, and the leaders who had survived the wintery cataclysm tried to rally them, but ‘twas a doomed venture.

The Reds on the snowmound unleashed their snowballs. The Blues that ran out ahead of their fellows only made themselves more outstanding targets. To my pleasure, the children standing with me then took special pains to strike down the leaders among the Blues’ ranks.

‘Twas too much for the Blues. Their ranks broke from the casualties and in a confused rout, they turned to run away from the destruction wrought ‘pon them.

My blood raced at the sight, and a queer, exhilarating feeling rose within me. An opportunity opened up before me. Fear was a contagion that could easily spread to others. If we pressed now, we might be able to roll up Dusk’s entire line, or even push to his flag.

“Children, charge!” I leapt over the snow wall and waved to them. “Victory is before us! Drive them from the field!”

The Red screamed their battle cries and followed down the hill. The few Blues who had not yet fled quickly found themselves overwhelmed. I grinned as I scooted up snowballs with my magic and stuck one panicked child after another. Few Blues tried to fight back, and ‘twas a trifle to block their attacks with my shields and hit them back. The counterattack had been broken, my fellow Reds were on the attack, and I had rarely felt so invigorated in my life.

Now all what needed to be done was—

“Please do not smite me!” a shrill voice cried out.

I paused at the sudden call for mercy. Looking down, I saw a filly, with a yellow coat and an azure mane, about twelve years of age if I had to guess. She was blocking her face with her legs in a vain attempt to protect herself from the snowball I held ready. When she was not immediately smitten, she slowly opened her eyes to look at me. She looked up at me, her lips puckered, making her appear to be the most pitiful creature in the world to me.

As I stared down at the poor, innocent, filly, I could not help but think that mayhaps I was taking all of this too far. This was an exercise intended for children, after all. What chance did they stand ‘gainst a royal magus? Especially one with a talent in cryomancy such as myself? All they would learn was that a magus of exceptional power, training, and ability could crush them into the dirt. What type of lesson would that be? Mayhaps there were beings in the world which stood little to no chance of victory of beating and all they can hope is to avoid the attention of such beings before their short and impermanent lives were snuffed out, but that struck me as an obvious fact of life.

Neigh, mayhaps I should take a different approach to all of this. I need not terrorize the children. ‘Twas not as though I needed to do much to aid Gale. Her pride would be saved as long as she won more of the rounds than her husband. ‘Twould not even be that difficult; a little bit of aid here and there should be enough to give Gale’s teams the victories she desired. I hardly needed to batter the Blues into submission. As I thought about it, the wisest course would be to—

My ruminations were interrupted when the filly whipped a snowball out from behind her back and smote me. I blinked in surprise as the snow caked off my muzzle, my mouth agape at the sudden, unprovoked attack. The filly’s response to her act of treachery was to laugh in childlike glee and flee after her compatriots.

For a time all I could do was huff with indignation. The duplicitous filly had begged me for mercy, and I was in the process of giving it. Then what had she done in response? She smote me! Smote me in the most honorless fashion imaginable. How dare she?!

“T-thou vile little rascal!” I shook my hoof at her. “Thou disreputable, craven, dishonorable blackguard! Thine actions would make a reiver applaud thee! Thou art a fiend with nothing but low cunning, a depraved mind, and a heart made of obsidian! Thou art the type of foul creature that makes wars all the more terrible! Warlocks learn from thine example! I denounce thee before all as a—”

I was cut off when a snowball hit me on ‘gainst the side of my head. I snapped my head in the direction the snowball, intent on using crack my tongue at whomever had struck me. My mouth opened but my tongue became twisted ‘pon seeing whom I had intended using it ‘gainst.

Lady Protector Shadow stood before me, a faint smile creasing one side of her lips. “I believe thou hast already been eliminated, Magus. Please remove thyself to the sidelines, if thou wilt.”

“B-But that little scoundrel!” I protested.

Shadow’s only response was to scoop another snowball before giving me a level look. “Wilt thou act like a proper magus and remove thyself from the field, or must I correct thee again?”

I ground my teeth together as I took a moment to think the matter over. She was right—I had been eliminated for the round, and ‘twould be most undignified and set a poor example for the children for me not to step aside and let the contest go as it will. However much I might wish to smite that little filly right back for her loathsome deception. Besides, I found it disagreeable to be smitten with snowballs. Especially to correct my behavior.

I curtseyed to one of the most powerful ponies of the realm. “Lady Shadow.” I turned around and headed to the sidelines.

I may have lost this round, but I would have my vengeance before the day was out.

“A bag of candy to the one who eliminates this most vile of fiends!” I called to the children around me. I created an illusion of the filly who had so treacherously taken advantage of my goodwill that they might know of their target in the upcoming round.

“‘Most vile of fiends’?” Gale trotted up to me, no doubt to lay claim to the bounty I had offered. We had ended up winning the last round, at least. Even without me to drive the attack, Dusk’s flank had collapsed and he hadn't been able to stop the momentum of our attack until we had taken his flag.

“She tricked me in the most devious of ways.” I moved the illusion closer to Gale. “She pretended to surrender, only to ambush me when I let my guard down. Truly, there is no greater blackguard this day.”

Gale frowned, evidently not recognizing the gravity of the matter. “She is only a child, Midnight.”

“Aye.” I nodded gravely. “I shudder to think what terrible evils she will enact once she becomes of age. If I were thee, I would keep a wary eye ‘pon that one. She is the type of pony they write tales about to warn little fillies and colts about the evil that lies in the hearts of ponies, and how those that seem innocent today can harbor evil within their hearts.”

Gale gave me a flat, unamused look. “Midnight, I think thou art becoming too upset o'er a trifling matter.”

“Trifling?!” I gasped. “Mine honor and dignity have been wounded. Wounded, I say! I cannot allow such a thing to pass without comment.”

Gale rolled her eyes. “A harmless bit of childish perfidy. I am sure she meant no insult by it.”

I huffed as mine annoyance grew. “All I wish to do is put a bounty on her head in order to even the scales. Is that so much to ask for? I think she has earned that much retaliation for her actions.”

Gale sighed. “As thou wilt.”

Pleased that Gale was content to allow me to do as I willed, I turned to other matters. “Hm, and I think ‘twould be wise for me to expand Fort Shadowskull.”

Gale frowned as she looked up at the fortification. “The fort seems quite sufficient as it is.”

“Aye, but 'tis only sufficient,” I said. “It could be greater. With a curtain wall, and the keep raised to make it harder to assail.”

“Art thou certain that such expansions would not be excessive?”

I tilted my head. “How can a fort be excessive?”

Gale waved vaguely at Fort Shadowskull. “For one, it could be so large we do not have forces to properly garrison it.”

I frowned in thought. “I had not really considered that. Very well. I will seek quality instead of mere quantity.”

Taking a moment to consider what I was going to do, I once again drew heavily ‘pon my magic. Soon Fort Shadowskull started growing, adding a full door to the structure to allow its defenders to dominate a larger area of the battlefield. The skull that outlined the gate grew outwards, becoming a proper gatehouse from which to deter intruders rather than mere decoration.

Deciding to add to the aesthetics of Fort Shadowskull, I added great spikes to the walls and towers. Next, I crafted a series of gargoyles—big, hulking brutes of ice intended to intimidate anypony that might think to approach it.

I turned to Gale, smiling as I expected her praise for the improvements to our defenses. Instead, what I got was long sigh and a sad shake of her head. “Well, at least there aren't any skulls howling out the screams of the damned,” she lamented.

I quirked an eyebrow at my friend’s confusing reaction. “Neigh, that would distract our warriors and make it more difficult for them to hear intruders and orders from their own leaders”

“Yes, that is the main reason not to add such a feature,” Gale said dryly.

“Obviously,” I concurred. “I am glad we agree on that point.” Really, as if I would waste my efforts on something that would not aid our cause.

“Now onto other matters.” I raised one of my forelegs, and cast a spell Corva had taught me to summon the ravens. Several birds from the growing unkindness that was taking roost in Fort Shadowskull flocked down to me. King Corvus Corax of the Great Unkindness, Punisher of the Wicked, Bringer of Justice to the Perfidious, Master of the Great Treasures of Ravenkind, and High Lord of the Council of the Great Unkindness landed upon my leg. Three ravens of the Magnanimous and Magnificent Council of the Great Unkindness landed on my back, while the remaining three made perches on Gale’s back. It mystified me why, but she actually tensed at being so favored by the greatest of the ravenkind.

I cleared my throat and spoke in the raven tongue. “Noble ravens, I wish for you to find this one for me.” I recreated the illusion of the filly.

King Corax bowed to me. “But of course, Raven Queen. Your will shall be done. Shall we punish her for you?”

After a moment's consideration, I shook my head. “Neigh, for now merely watch her and tell her what awaits her when I find her on the battlefield.”

Gale looked at the Ravens on her back and spoke warily. “Midnight, what art thou planning?”

“For the unkindness to find the blackguard who tricked me last time, and to herald my coming.” Aye, I would not have to wait long to sate my vengeance.

“Death!” cawed King Corax.

“Pain!” agreed one of the councilors.

“Doom!” cried another.

“Such noble, loyal birds,” Corva whispered within my mind.

I nodded to the ravens. “Aye, exactly so.”

“And then there will be corn?” A hopeful light sparked in King Corax’s black eyes.

After a moment of consideration, I smiled. “Aye, and then there will be corn.”

The ravens cawed as one. “Raven Queen! Raven Queen! Cornbringer!” They flapped their wings and took flight to do as I bid.

My smile spread, and Gale grimaced and averted her eyes. “Excellent. Now I am ready for the next round of this battle, my friend.”

The bugle made its call to battle once more, and Reds and Blues charged forth to meet one another. Their cheers were every bit as enthusiastic as before, and the Reds around me charged forward with youthful energy. ‘Twas an infectious mood, and one I drank in as I trotted forward in their wake.

I looked ahead through the steadily falling snow and saw what I desired. A score of ravens were circling over a specific portion of the right side of the field. Even at this distance, I could hear them heralding mine arrival with their caws: “Death! Death! Death!”

Excellent, my ravens had found the evil little filly who had so humiliated me last round. But before I could move in her direction, somepony whose voice I recognized called out. “Hold a moment, if thou wouldst.”

I looked up, and to my mild surprise, General Dusk flittered down towards me. His presence made me wonder how he had managed to bypass my fellow Reds to appear before me. Well, it probably mattered little how he had done it compared to fact he was here.

“Ah, you would have yourself eliminated so early, General Dusk?” I scooped up some snowballs. This was most fortunate. If I could eliminate Dusk, then I would remove the head of the Blues and clinch an early victory this round.

Dusk landed before me and smiled confidently, seeming to be utterly unconcerned with the fact I was ‘bout to smite him. “I would have words with thee, my lovely Midnight.”

I blinked slowly. My curiosity had now been sparked. What were his intentions? I narrowed mine eyes. “If you would have me betray Gale, then your breath is wasted.”

Dusk shook a hoof to dismiss the idea. “Perish the thought. I merely wished to speak with thee. Civilly.”

“I do not think this is the time.” Still, I lowered the snowballs in my magic, a little bit. “I should destroy you now, and then your army. I have my vengeance to obtain.”

“Ah, such fury from such a beautiful mare.” He growled deeply in his throat. “'Tis most becoming.”

I frowned as my confusion only grew at his strange behavior. “Becoming?”

“Oh yes.” Dusk grinned and approach closer. “Thou art most comely. I cannot help but be drawn to a mare with such fire in her belly and passion in her lovely eyes.”

I blinked in surprise. Was he actually flirting with me?! Nopony did that. Certainly not a stallion like Dusk. I mean, he was a pony of such distinguished birth. He had earned a great title and become one of Equestria’s most capable generals. Indeed, he was one of the finest warriors in Her Highness’ service. And ... he was quite pleasing to the eye. He was a large, strong, and muscular stallion, with his features having a cavalier and roguish quality to them that could make mares and stallions swoon. Especially with that fine mustache of his. ‘Twas unthinkable that such a fine pegasus as he would have any interest in me, and if Gale would but open her eyes, she would see how lucky she was.

“I ... w-what does that have to do with me smiting you with snowballs?” I stumbled out, finding myself strangely flustered.

“Nothing at all.” Dusk stepped close enough that we could almost touch one another. “I just thought it bore mentioning that thou art an exceptionally lovely young mare.” He gave me a smile so charming that it made my heart skip a beat. “'Twill be an honor to be smitten by thee.”

“Bu-but—you are a married stallion!” I protested. “You should not be saying such things to your wife’s friend.”

“I am, but a married stallion can still appreciate beauty when he sees it.” He came close enough so that he could gently cup my cheek. “And thou art beautiful indeed.”

My cheeks burned. Never before had I experienced such compliments. “I s-should be smiting you right now for your wife's pleasure.”

Dusk locked eyes with me and leaned in so that our mouths nearly touched. “And what of thy pleasure, my lovely?”

“I, this is, um, aye, neigh, um—bwa?” I tried to form a complete sentence, or even actual words, but in a rare instance, my brain and mouth utterly failed me. It felt as though I should do something—anything—but ‘twas as though every part of me was locked up. I was left unable to think or move as my heart beat strong within my chest.

For a moment, as he leaned yet closer, I thought he was going to kiss me, but then his mouth moved to my ear to whisper softly. “Mine apologies, lovely magus.” Before I could figure out what he meant, a snowball connected with the back of my skull.

I blinked and took a step from him, the charm he had wrought over me broken. “D-Dusk?!”

“A thousand apologies, my dear.” Dusk bowed graciously to me, wiping a few flecks of snow from his hoof. “But thou art eliminated from the round. Know that this has brought me no pleasure, but my first duty is to the children serving under me. While my heart yearns for thee, it cannot be argued that thou art a force which my forces cannot stand ‘gainst. So when it becomes a contest ‘tween one's heart and duty, often the heart must give way.”

My mouth worked wordlessly as I tried to form a reply. Part of me knew I should have been furious with him for the deceit, but he was just so gracious and ... stirred up feelings within me that I could not readily explain. Before I could sort through those feelings, a new yet very familiar voice pierced the moment.

“Dusk, what art thou doing?!” Gale landed before us, her nostrils flaring.

Dusk’s reply to his wife was to smite her as well. So great was her choler that by the time she realized his ploy, the snowball had already splattered against her chest.

Dusk grinned as he took flight. “Mine apologies, but if you two lovely ladies will excuse me, I have a battle to win.” He made off as quickly as he could, not that I could blame him with the way his wife was stomping at the ground in indignation.

“I truly do hate that stallion sometimes,” Gale growled.

I mumbled a response to her fuming, scrapping a hoof through the snow.

Gale frowned. “Art thou blushing?”

I turned my face from her. “I ... um ... yes.”

Gale sniffed dismissively and lifted her chin. “Aye, ‘tis most embarrassing to have been undone by his scheming. I did not expect him to slip behind our lines and target us directly. ‘Twas a bold move.” While she had spoken with nothing but contempt for her husband, a hint of admiration crept into her tone. “Impressive, e’en.”

I mumbled out an agreement.

My friend sighed and growled. “Well, it seems he has won this stage of the clash, but the battle is far from over.”

Chapter 3: It is well that snowball fights are so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of them.

Princess Celestia sat triumphantly on her newly made ice throne in the inner sanctum of Fort Shadowskull. The red and blue flags of Gale and Dusk’s teams sat on the armrests of her throne. The two of them had declined to continue the contest with their commander after their defeats in the latest round. ‘Twas probably for the best; ‘twould have been most difficult to get the Kicker children reorganized after the introduction of those from Canterlot.

Now all of them were doing as children did when they had plentiful fresh snow to play with, continuing smaller and less organized snowball fights, building snowponies, rising sleds down the snowmounds, and playing a variety of other games in the slowly fading sunlight. Even the ravens had taken to playing. Either joining the children on their sleds or rolling about in the snow. There was something harmonious ‘bout watching the children play, and it warmed my heart. I suspected that introducing the children to one another had been Princess Celestia’s intention from the start.

But I was not outside playing with the children; instead I was with Princess Celestia, Mother, Shadow, Gale, and Dusk, sipping on hot chocolate. While my magic was drained, ‘twas still not much of an effort on my part to give everypony seats.

“Well, I had fun,” I said to break the silence that had fallen on the room. Curiously, everypony else exchanged worried looks with one another. That was strange. “What? This was most enjoyable. I look forward to next time.”

Shadow frowned. “Midnight, I have thought it over and reached a conclusion.” She took a deep breath. “I am afraid I must announce that thou art no longer permitted to participate in our snow battles.”

I jerked back at the grave announcement. “B-but why?”

Gale narrowed her eyes. “Thou constructed a gigantic ice dragon that went on a rampage.”

Dusk wrapped a leg around his wife’s shoulders. “And likely traumatized an entire generation of children.”

I blinked slowly. “And?”

“I believe they feel thine enthusiasm for the contest was rather excessive,” Shadow explained.

I tilted my head, failing to understand their intentions. “Such a thing is possible? I always hear of parents complaining their children lack zeal in their activities and do not dedicate themselves to the task before them. I merely applied myself to the task Gale had given me.”

Shadow smile dryly. “I do not think Sunbeam will have any such complaints regarding thee. But aye, thou didst go too far.”

My ears wilted. It seemed that, despite my perfectly good logic, I had once again alienated those around me. “Oh. That was not mine intention.”

“It was supposed to be fun for the children,” Gale said gently. “It is not entirely your fault. I allowed my desire to defeat my husband to get the better of me. I should have ... explained mine intentions more clearly.”

“Thou art quite forgiven, my love.” Dusk rubbed Gale’s shoulder, and she leaned ‘gainst him in turn. They were the picture of contentment, and it greatly confused me. For a mare who always told me she despised the stallion she had married, she seemed most comfortable with him.

I decided to leave that mystery for another day and instead concentrated on more immediate matters. “I suppose the exercise was intended to teach the children strategy and teamwork, rather than merely serve as a display of my magic.”

Princess Celestia nodded. “We yet salvaged the day.” The loud and boisterous laughter and play of the children echoed in the courtyard outside.

I sighed, now realizing I had taken matters too far and considering what restitution so might make to the children of the Kicker Clan. “I fear I will never understand such things.”

Mother scooted closer to me on our bench and wrapped a leg around my shoulders. “What confuses thee, my child?”

“Contests such as these, and playing with children.” My eyes shifted to Gale and Dusk and strange feelings I could not describe stirred within me. “And a great many other things besides.”

“When something confuses thee ... ask,” Mother said.

Princess Celestia nodded. “I have found that asking questions is the easiest way to clear up one’s confusion.”

“That is probably the key to it.” I pointed out through the hole in the wall to the children playing outside. “I think part of my confusion is that I did not experience much of that as a child. I suppose I do not know what everypony considers ... appropriate.”

Shadow grunted, though I could not tell what she wished to convey with it. “Suffice to say, terror spells and gigantic ice dragons only belong on a true battlefield.”

Dusk nodded. “If thou dost see children fleeing in terror and sobbing uncontrollably, reconsider thine actions.”

Gale added, “If all thy friends counsel thee to stop and say that thou hast gone too far, heed their words.”

“Those are good things to know,” I said. “I will remember that for the future.”

Princess Celestia smiled. “I think that is all some very good advice.”

“Aye.” I sighed. “Even if I have been banned from having snowball fights ever again, sadly.”

“I think it best not to tempt fate,” Shadow said.

“Very well.” ‘Twas a great disappointment that I would no longer be allowed to participate in the Kickers’ snowball fights, but there seemed little point in pressing the matter. I could see in Shadow continence that she would not likely bend on the issue. At least I still had my books, if nothing else. “Once we are done here, I will return to my studies. That would seem best for everypony.”

“Very good, then.” Mother considered me for a moment. “And if ‘tis any consolation, thou didst show considerable magical skill.”

“I did?” I tilted my head. ‘Twas strange to hear Mother compliment me so. I expected her to put some addendum on that compliment, criticising me for some failure or telling me how I could improve. But for once the criticising did not come.

“The ice dragon was rather impressive.” Princess Celestia chuckled. “Even if thou didst terrorize the children with it. But I suppose I can forgive one indiscretion as long as ‘tis not repeated.”

A slight smile crept onto my lips. “I admit, that was a moment of inspiration on my part. It has been some time since I have exerted myself so.”

“How didst thou conjure it?” Mother asked. “A constructed body and bound spirit?”

I nodded. “Aye, ‘twas a construct made of ice intended to house an ice spirit. 'Twas merely a matter of summoning a spirit from the plane of ice and wind, and binding it to a vessel it would accept.”

“I see.” Mother grinned with satisfaction. “Good, my plan to counter it would have worked.”

Princess Celestia quirked an eyebrow. “Concerned that thy daughter might have exceeded thee, Sunbeam?”

Mine own eyebrow rose. Had I really come so close to surpassing Mother, even in this one thing? Mother said she had a counter for Icingdeath, but...

“It is only natural for children to exceed their parents, and the truest mark of a teacher is when they are surpassed by their student.” After a moment, Mother smiled proudly. “Though I think Midnight is not quite there yet. But some day she will be the mightiest magus in Equestria—that I assure you, my princess.”

“I will seek to please you, Mother.” I squirmed in place, feeling most awkward at her assertions. I wished to be as great as she wished for me to be, but ‘twas a great burden. There was still much I needed to accomplish before I could begin to declare myself to be so magnificent.

Mother patted me on the back. “I would expect nothing less of thee, my child.” That done, she rolled her neck and shoulders. “Now then, I believe there is only one other matter left unresolved.”

“And what might that be?” Shadow asked.

Mother grinned and her horn light up. “A matter of vengeance.” Her magic nudged a piled of snow that had been collecting out on the barricade, and it fell as a big clump onto Princess Celestia, burying her.

Mine eyes widened. “M-Mother! What are you doing?!”

Being the mightiest pony in Equestria, dealing with snow proved a trifle to Princess Celestia. There was a glow of golden light and the snow melted away from the Guardian of the Sun, an amused grin spreading across her face. “Ah, so that is the way of it.” She gathered up fresh snowballs while Mother did the same.

Shadow stood from her seat and stretched. “It seems the contest is not yet done. I suppose I shall—” She was interrupted when she was hit in the head with a snowball.

Gale picked up another snowball and grinned impishly. “What was that, Mother?”

Dusk grinned too, arming himself as well. “I believe she has started the games anew.”

“And ponies say I am mad.” I let out a put-upon sigh and started collecting mine own snowballs, knowing how this situation was going to escalate. “And now I am in a difficult situation, for now my loyalties have been divided.”

“I do not think there are any clear lines to this battle.” Dusk considered his snowball and then pegged his wife in the back, causing her to gasp in surprise at the sudden betrayal. She turned on her husband and returned fire, the two of them ignoring all others as they battled.

“Ah, so 'tis the last pony standing?” I pulled myself from the bench and prepared myself for one last battle. “That I can understand well enough.”

“But canst thou win?” Princess Celestia hurled a snowball my way.

I caught the snowball in midair and smiled. “In mine experience, there is only one way to find out.”

Author's Note

I would like to thank my editors Chengar Qordath, Comma-Kazie, and JaketheGinger for their help making this crazy story.

Then I woudl also like to thank my prereaders Swiftest, Infinion, 621Chopsuey, Pegasusnumber 5, Rodinga, and Web of Hope for their help making this story as good as it can be.

Prelude: Now is the winter of our discontent.

The Great Snowball War

I do so love the winter. There was always something about seeing the snowfall that stirred something within me. Perhaps it had something to do with my cutie mark, a snowflake on my flank. While I could easily explain with scientific principles and the various aspects of that semi-natural event, there was still something wondrous ‘bout watching snowflakes drift by my worktable window.

‘Twas a welcome sight as I worked at my scrimshaw with my enchanting instruments. My old teacher Morning Star had loaned me several books and extensive notes on the art of runic enchantment, and I had spent the last few months perfecting my skill at the craft. ‘Twas scheduled to be a long winter in Equestria, and since the winter months tended to slow official business, that left me with more time to practice.

I had nothing pressing scheduled, having intended to spend the day carving runes into fish bone, so ‘twas to my mild surprise to hear a knocking on the tower door. Part of me was irritated to have my work interrupted, but a larger part of me was curious who would be visiting my mother’s tower. Not wishing to be rude to whomever might be at the door, I trotted downstairs to greet them.

On the otherwise of the threshold was my friend Gale Kicker. She was without the crimson armor she normally wore, instead donning a crimson heavy coat, scarf, and hooded cloak. The Kickers were perhaps not overly ... nuanced in their understandings of how best to mix colors in one’s clothing. “Gale,” I said. “‘Tis good to see thee.”

“And thee as well.” Gale nodded, though I noticed a certain tension in her frame. ‘Twas at odds with her normally calm presence.

I decided to get right to the point. “What brings thee to my home?”

“There are matters of utmost importance I would discuss with thee,” Gale said with great gravity. “A great battle is coming soon, and I must have thine aid.”

I blinked. “A battle? What sort of battle?” I pulled the door wider to allow her entry. This sounded like something that would need to be discussed at length, and ‘twould not do to leave my friend out in the cold whilst carrying such a conversation at the threshold.

“Aye.” Gale trotted in and shook the snow off of herself. “A week hence, at the clan's compound.”

I frowned. My curiosity had been sparked, and ‘twould not be sated until I knew everything there was to know. “A most serious matter indeed. What sort of battle would take place at thy very gates?” This was quite troubling news. If there was to be a battle at the Kicker Compound, then such a battle could threaten all of Canterlot.

Gale took a long breath before finally explaining. “A battle training exercise for the clan's youth. ‘Tis the traditional snowball war of the clan, and I am in need of thine aid.”

My frown became a scowl. “That does not sound serious. In fact, that sounds like the opposite of serious.” It did to me, in any event. The Kicker Clan training and education of their children was of course important. Even after the dissolution of Pegasopolis, the Kicker Clan had continued the tradition of teaching their children to be mighty warriors responsible for the defense do Equestria. ‘Twas of course something important for the security of the realm, but the training of youths was not something that was of critical importance to my own duties. Not before it became my own time to teach apprentices, anyways.

“It is of the utmost seriousness,” Gale protested. “We traditionally divide into two teams for the exercise, each led by a major figure within the clan. This year, as it was last year, 'twill be myself leading one force and my husband the other.”

“Thou art leading a mob of children to throw snowballs at one another,” I pointed out. “This does not seem worthy of mine attention.”

Gale growled under her breath. “I am leading children against my husband. And he was the victor last year.” I could all but hear her grind her teeth together. “I will not lose to Dusk again. Once was humiliating enough.”

I sighed as the full picture made itself apparent to me. “So this is about thy husband again?”

Somehow it did not surprise me that Gale’s husband was at the heart of this matter. Why Gale married Dusk, I would never know. Not when she always spoke of him with such vitriol. ‘Twould at least have made sense to me if the marriage had been a purely political affair—certainly there were plenty of loveless arranged marriages or outright bad matches—but Gale had always insisted to me that such was not the case with her. Mayhaps the mysteries of the equine heart were simply beyond me.

Gale’s wings flicked. “I must be certain of my victory this time. To lose to him again would be intolerable. I need an advantage he cannot surmount for the coming exercise, and I would ask that thee join me so that I may be victorious.”

I rubbed my face, suppressing mine irritation. “Gale, I am very busy. Some mock battle between children hardly seems worthy of my time.”

Gale puckered her lips in a pathetic-looking pout. “I ask this of thee as thy dear and treasured friend. Wouldst thou so abandon me in my hour of need?”

I frowned as I considered that. On second thought, ‘twould be poor of me to outright reject Gale. Even if the stakes struck me as paltry. “Does this really mean so much to thee?”

“It does,” Gale said. “If Dusk is the victor once more, I shall surely endure a year of terrible suffering.”

I tilted my head. “What couldst thou mean? What terrible fate would he inflict 'pon thee?”

Gale’s face took on a dark character. “He would ... gloat.”

“Ah, I see.” ‘Twas response I had to the less-than-terrible fate. Though on reflection, I could empathize a little bit with her dismay; I often felt somewhat vexed with how little Mother seemed to credit my achievements. ‘Tis not to say that I received no praise, but after a few days she would begin pointedly asking what I intended to do next. I knew that Mother was just trying to push me to always better myself and seek new heights, but it could be irritating to stretch mine abilities to their utmost only to be given a still greater challenge immediately after. ‘Twas as if I could ne’er satisfy her.

Deciding to resolve myself to aiding my friend, I asked. “And what type of contest is this?”

“The ultimate objective is to seize the other side’s flag,” Gale informed me. “What is different this time is that each side can remove their opponents from the game by striking them with snowballs.”

“So ‘tis a mix of capture the flag and a snowball fight, then?”

“Aye, a great battle to train the new generation of warriors,” Gale said. “‘Tis a practice that has stood the test of time in Pegasopolis. We combine training and play to best teach the children.”

I shrugged. While I had resolved myself to help Gale, my heart was not committed to the exercise. “It sounds like a simple affair.”

Gale snorted hauntedly. “It is of utmost seriousness. Mine honor hangs in the balance.”

“Aye, so thou dost insist.” I shrugged resigning myself to what I felt I need to do for Gale. While I did not think this would be a challenge, I could at least make her happy. “Very well, for the sake of our friendship, I will aid thee as best as I am able.”

“My thanks to thee, Midnight!” Gale wrapped me in a hug so fierce that it threatened to break my ribcage and pierce my lungs with the jagged ends of my ribs, causing me incredible agony until I slowly drowned in mine own blood.

I hugged back, largely in an attempt to get into a position where I wouldn’t be crushed to death. I could not aid Gale if she killed me. “I like to think of myself as a good friend,” I rasped.

“Thou art. Truly, thou art.”

Chapter 2: The only thing worse than winning a snowball fight is losing a snowball fight.

The battle was indeed far from over, at least if I had anything to say about it. Which I did, for I intended to do something about the embarrassing loss we had just suffered. Dusk had done his work well. Our forces fared poorly with their leaders’ elimination. Gale’s brother Ash had attempted to take his sister’s place as leader of the Reds, but while he might have been brave and intelligent for a child his age, Dusk was vastly more experienced.

Dusk had conducted a slow, organized retreat on his right flank, and had drawn Ash further and further to his side of the field. In his inexperience, Ash had not seen the trap coming and had poured his forces into the fight as he pushed Dusk from one snowmound to another. In the end, a gap had formed between our right and left flank, and Dusk had exploited it. He drove his reserves into the gap, isolating our flanks from one another and opening a path to our flag.

Fort Shadowskull had come to be badly under-garrisoned, as Ash had pulled some of its defenders out to maintain his offensive. To my great frustration, ‘twas almost a trifle for Dusk to send in some of his best pegasi fliers into the fort to take the flag. At that, the second battle had ended in a decisive defeat.

That put me in a foul mood.

Thus, I climbed the stairs of Fort Shadowskull to enact my plan for the third round of our contest. I poured my magic into the ice around me, and the protesting cracking of ice echoed throughout the structure as it grew larger still. When I reached the top of the fort, I cast another spell and the wall opened up and a balcony formed before me. Ravens landed on the railing and cawed to me in greeting.

Stepping onto the balcony, I looked out over the battlefield. On the far end of the field I saw the blue specks of the ponies that were mine enemies. Twice I had been thwarted by them, and I had not even begun to inflict my revenge on the treacherous little filly that had betrayed my trust. This would not do.

I had seen Princess Celestia cast the spell that granted her the Royal Canterlot Voice, and I cast the spell to myself so that I could project my voice to mine enemies. “I HAVE SUFFERED MY LAST HUMILIATION!” My horn glew as I created an illusion multiple stories tall of myself in front of Fort Shadowskull, glaring balefully down on them to inform them of my displeasure. "FEAR ME, CHILDREN! FOR I AM MAGUS MIDNIGHT SPARKLE, AND I AM COMING FOR THEE! FEAR ME AND DESPAIR!"

Before I could make anymore announcements of their inevitable doom, Gale fluttered up to land on the balcony, frowning. “Midnight, mayhaps thou art becoming too ... enthusiastic?”

I gasped at the suggestion. “Neigh! My heart burns with passion and the desire to see our foes so crushed that for three generations they will speak of what has transpired as a warning to others.”

Gale’s eyes narrowed. “Midnight, our foes are children. And my husband.”

“Aye, and thou hast made thy hatred of thy deceitful husband clear to me,” I said. “He will receive special attention should I fall 'pon him. Just wait and see, for his doom is nigh.”

Gale pursed her lips as she thought. “I feel I should point out that his descendants will be my children as well.”

“Do not worry.” I waved dismissively. “He has not been able to put a child 'pon thee even after ten years of marriage. I doubt such will be rectified anytime soon.”

Gale shuffled awkwardly in place, looking embarrassed for once. “Aye, about that. In truth, we have been pursuing that of late. Vigorously.”

“Oh.” For once, I did not have a ready reply. That news that Gale and Dusk were attempting to conceive a foal after so many years of marriage struck me as queer, at least where they were concerned. Dusk seemed more than willing to do what needed to be done. Though from the way Gale had spoken, she would have preferred the company of a kelpie, with its adhesive touch intended to allow it to grab its victims and drag them into the water and drown them so that it can feast on their waterlogged flesh. From what I understood of lovemaking, Gale should have been repulsed to have Dusk do such a thing to her. I did not understand her.

Her cheeks flushed and she shook her head. “But that is beside the point. Thou art becoming rather too excited o'er a mere contest.”

I puffed out my chest. “But thou didst bring me here to bring thee victory, and I shall do so. Thou wilt see my worth this day. Thou wilt see.”

Gale rubbed her face wearily. “Very well. Just ... remember we are facing children.”

I huffed, growing irritated at her needless worries. I knew exactly what I was doing. “Gale, 'tis not as though I intend to kill them, put their heads on pikes, and display them to serve as examples to others as though they were common brigands.”

Gale’s mouth worked wordlessly for a moment before she could bring herself to speak properly. “No, I would think not.”

I nodded. “Good to hear we understand one another. Now, time to strike fear into their hearts and give them a story to remember!” I turned back to the field. “RAVENS OF THE GREAT UNKINDNESS! COME TO ME! LET MINE ENEMIES KNOW THAT THE END IS NIGH!”

Gale pressed her hoof to her face as the Great Unkindness took flight. Ravens scooped up snowballs from the piles of munitions available and they circled around Fort Shadowskull. Eager for battle, I lept from the balcony. My cloak and red scarf flapped in the wind as I plummeted towards the ground, slowing my descent with a feather fall spell and allowing me to land on the ground softly, rather than shattering the bones in my legs and sending the splinters through my flesh.

After careful consideration, I had decided ‘pon the spell I would use to clench victory and my horn glew its blue light. “Frightful Fearsome Phantasm!” I cried out. Slowly a veil formed around me. To the ponies watching me, ‘twas as though I grew to a size that would have dwarfed Princess Celestia herself. Great claws formed on my hooves, canines pushed past my lips, my mane came to be long, wild, and unkempt, and mine eyes glew with a baleful red light.

In addition to making me appear different, the veil produced a terrible aura—one intended to strike fear into anypony within sight of me. I had never had the opportunity to really use the spell before, but now I did and it made my blood pump.

A great cry of dismay and fear came from the Blues as they saw me approach them. The ravens came with me, a vast black of wave that filled the sky above the battlefield. I smiled as I advanced. Victory would be mine. The Blues had no counter to my magics, and the fear from Frightful Fearsome Phantasm would erode away their morale until Dusk’s army melted away in panic. My ravens would take care of anypony else who stood in my way. ‘Twould be as simple as walking up to the Blues’ flag and taking it in order to win.

None of the Blues had even tried to approach me by the time I reached the middle half of the field. I may not even need to throw a single snowball to seize the day. That would show everypony whom was the master of this battlefield.

My dreams of glory were interrupted when a snowball smashed ‘gainst the back of my head. Less than half a second later, mine entire backside was peppered by at least a score of snowballs. I squawked in surprise and spun around to face my attacker.

Who? Who could have attacked me?! I had driven away all before me, so there was nopony nearby. Even if somepony had managed to resist the aura of my spell, they still would have been seen by the unkindness. Then there was the fact that no single pony could have thrown so many snowballs so accurately. That meant a whole team of ponies must have hit me. But how?!

The answer revealed itself when Mother, the Archmagus of Canterlot and Grand Vizier of Equestria, stepped out from behind her invisibility veil, smirking savagely at me. “Hello, my child.”

“M-mother?!” I took a step back. “What art thou doing here?!”

“Dusk requested mine aid, in exchange for future favors.” Mother brushed the end of her blue scarf so that is settled across her back. “He was wise in thinking that the best counter to a magus was another magus. And it seemed an amusing diversion.”

My brain worked as it processed this revelation. “You would side against your daughter?”

“‘Tis only a training exercise,” Mother said. “‘Twill be good to see how thou art progressing with thy magic.”

Mine eye twitched at the challenge. “I will remember this. Next round, we will meet and I will show you how much I have improved.”

Mother grinned savagely. “I would expect nothing less. Now then...” She made a shooing motion with her hoof. “Thou hast been eliminated, daughter. Please step to the side so that I may help Dusk win his battle.”

I sighed and turned to go. “Fine.”

“And do not forget to remove the veil.”

I rolled my eyes and dispelled my veil.

“And dismiss the ravens.”

I grumbled under my breath and waved the ravens off. The unkindness cawed sadly as they returned to their roosts at the fort. I stomped back with them.

When the next round started, I returned to the battlefield with the intention to face my mother. The children did not come rushing out like they had in the first couple of rounds, though; instead, the field seemed strangely silent, as though everypony was afraid to speak higher than a whisper. The children of each team moved forward cautiously and well after my wake. There was a tension in the air as I trotted forward, a crack of energy waiting to be released.

‘Twas not difficult to find Mother. I had worried she might hide herself somewhere on the battlefield and force me to play a game of hide-and-seek. Such was not the case, for she stood boldly on a snowmound at the middle of the field.

I suspected a trap, and thus approached cautiously. ‘Twould be like her to try and fool me with some illusion only to sneak up on me from behind, but a quick scan for magic quickly showed ‘twas a pony of flesh and blood before me. The children from both sides slowly moved until they formed a circle around us, though they stood well clear of the magi before them. ‘Twould seem that this contest would have witnesses. That suited me just fine.

I narrowed mine eyes as I stopped at the base of the snowmound. “Mother, have you been waiting for me?”

“I have indeed.” Mother flashed a grin that challenged me to come for her. “We both know that this battle shall be decided 'tween the two of us. Come, child; show me what thou hast learned.”

I spread my legs in a combat stance. “You will find that I am stronger now, Mother. This will not be nearly as easy a contest as you have experienced in the past.”

“I would expect nothing less,” she said. “It is only natural for children to continue growing. But that growth must be tested and tempered.”

“Aye, but you will find that the young have supplanted their elders this day.”

Mother’s grin only widened at my challenge. “Bold words. Let us see if there is any truth to them.” As quick as a snake's bite, she snapped several snowballs at me with her magic.

The snowballs streaked towards me, but I caught each of them in a field of my magic. I answered Mother’s grin with one of mine own and launched them back at her. Before they could reach her though, Mother conjured a wall of fire that instantly melted them. As I thought she would, she was manipulating heat to give her an edge in our battle.

Desiring to test the power of that shield, I created a pillar of snow to extinguish it and plow right into her. The pillar soared through the air, but to my surprise Mother did not meet force with force, instead melting the snow under hooves and dropping into the snowdrift. The pillar flew over her head, causing several children to scatter out of its way as it hit the ground.

Seeing an opportunity, I put my cyromancy to work. The snow around the hole Mother had created shifted and filled it in. For the briefest moment, I hoped that I had snuck in a win ‘gainst her, but a rumble in the snow announced that she was far from done. There was an explosion of snow and steam, and a sweltering burst of hot air made my cloak flap against the sudden gust. Before I could react, the snow under my very hooves melted out from under me, and I stumbled and fell against the wet ground.

‘Twas at that moment when Mother emerged from her hold, throwing several snowballs without a moment’s hesitation. A few months ago, that would have been the end of the contest; ‘twould have taken too much time for me to form a proper shield or use snow and ice to defend myself. That was where my more recent advancements in the magical arts came to the fore.

I concentrated the heat in the air before me, much of it provided by Mother’s previous attack, and created a shield that made the air shimmer before me. The snowballs hit that patch of hot air and instantly evaporated well short of me.

Mother blinked in surprise, but that surprise was swiftly replaced by a tight smile. “Ah, I was hoping it would not end that swiftly. Good.”

I regained my balance and stood. “I have mastered your technique to manipulate heat and cold, Mother. As I said I would.” I met her eyes with determination. “That includes your spell Sunbeam’s Shimmering Summer Shield.”

There was a glint in Mother’s eyes when she spoke. “I expected nothing less from mine own daughter.”

“Though I wonder how long this contest will go.” I rolled my shoulders, making sure the fall had caused me no injuries. “We have both mastered fire and ice, and our talents cancel one another out.”

“It will go as long as it must,” Mother announced. “Endurance is another skill of a talented magus; ‘tis one thing to sling spells around the battlefield, ‘tis another to do so efficiently.”

“That is so,” I acknowledged. “Then let us continue our battle and see who succumbs to fatigue. If I must battle you long into the night to emerge victorious, then so be it.”

“Do not declare thyself the victor before the fight is done.” Mother grinned savagely, her horn glowing anew with a green aura. “Arrogance will only lead thee to defeat.”

Before I could launch an attack, the snow about me rose up in a wave to bury me. I shot a blue beam of light into that wave, freezing it solid.

I knew that a direct confrontation of force was not likely to defeat Mother. She possessed as much magic as myself and had many more decades of experience. Neigh, if I was going to win, I needed to be cleverer than she.

An impenetrable globe of darkness that drank in all light spread from my horn until it covered the immediate area. As was my habit, I had already cast a darkvision spell ‘pon myself at the start of the day and I could see even without light. Mother did not have that advantage. ‘Twould not be long until she cast a spell to let her see, and even then she was casting some spell in her defense. I needed to strike quickly.

With another spell, my shadow darted forward until ‘twas under Mother. Now with its own mass, the shadow picked up a snowball and threw it at Mother’s belly.

Whether due to instincts, detecting my magic at work, or having seen it after casting her spell, Mother’s eyes widened at the moving shadow. She jerked away and barely moved out of the snowball’s path in time. Not content to stop there, I had my shadow reach out to try and grab her. A jet of flame shot from Mother’s horn and burned the shadow away, causing me to flinch from the magical backlash that ran down my horn.

Having her off-balance, I pressed mine attack. As quickly as I could cast multiple simultaneous spells, I covered a snowball with an invisibility spell and launched it at Mother.

No doubt suspecting I was up to something, Mother set everything immediately around her afire, making mine attack utterly impotent. When the fire abated, Mother stared at me with a wild look about her eyes. “Good! Thou art being inventive whilst pressing thine attacks. I am pleased.”

“And I am far from done yet.” I levitated out more snowballs and had them orbit Mother to threaten her from all sides. “I have the vigor of youth and can keep this up for some time.”

I flung my snowballs at her, and once again, they melted against her fire shield. Good thing that was merely a distraction to provoke her to do as I desired. I pushed more snow into her shield at ground level, and it quickly melted into pools of water. I took that water and made it seep into the ground. Soon the ground was saturated and rapidly turning into mud. If I could just make enough mud to sink Mother into the ground, then I could at least eliminate her ability to walk ‘bout the battlefield.

Mother’s hooves started sinking into the mud and she turned her gaze downwards. “Ah, much better. Alas...” She hit the ground with a burst of fire, the heat being such that it made me flinch back. With a jerk of her hooves, Mother pulled herself out of the baked clay. The smile she gave me irritated with the confidence it beamed. “ I think I have allowed thee enough time on the offensive.”

She hurled a fireball at me. Mine eyes widened, and I barely had time to scoop up some snow to intercept the fireball. My heart beat heavily in response to the attack. Was she trying to burn me? Her power and control over fire was second to none, but I did not like the idea of having my flesh burned from my bones regardless.

I decided to try a bluff to make her stop considering using that type of attack ‘gainst me again. “Really now? More fire? I have far more snow available to me than thou hast fire. In a contest of endurance, this will not end well for you.”

Mother tsked and shook her head. “Thou thinkest so?” There was a roar of flame as she threw a massive, rolling wave of fire at me.

I immediately countered by harnessing the snow about me and throwing it as a wave. The two forces collided with a crack of magical forces made me flinch, and the fire and snow exploded into a steamy fog which covered everything.

My heart sank as I realized the danger I was now in. I had lost sight of Mother, meaning she could be anywhere and be planning any number of strategies to crush me. Knowing that I had mere moments before the hammer fell, I fell back ‘pon a traditional defense: a light blue bubble of magical force formed around me as I cast my shield spell.

My caution was immediately rewarded. Another wave of fire came from my left and a wave of snow fell ‘pon me from my right. My shield buckled, but did not break under the pressure of the two forces and I poured more of my magic into it to keep it from failing. I grunted as Mother pressed the attack, with snow and ice grinding on opposite sides of my shield. ‘Twas a display of pyromancy and cyromancy that I had not reached yet, and was something I could not help but admire even as it threatened to overwhelm me.

“You should be honored, child!” Mother called out. “I was waiting for the chance to test this spell on a worthy foe, and now I have one.”

Before I could ask what she was speaking of, the waves of snow and fire collided with one another and worked themselves into the air. There was a series of sparks, and then with a great boom, a lightning bolt crashed down into my shield. As the shield broke, my whole world became overwhelmed with light, sound, and pain.

I knew not how long I lay on the ground. My ears rung and dots swam over my vision. Vertigo seized me as I looked up at Mother as she stood over me. She bent her head down to look me over, pushing aside my cloak to thoroughly examine me as she cast a spell that would tell her of my health.

Mother canceled her spell and nodded. “Well fought, my child.” A snowball struck me across the shoulders, bringing my part in this round to a close.

All I could do was groan and bury my face in the snow.

Mother inflicted two decisive defeats against Gale’s forces. I had failed to beat her, and that had allowed her to work as she willed to give Dusk victory. She had even melted an opening right through Fort Shadowskull to cut a straight path our flag, mocking the defenses I had created.

I considered going out and facing Mother directly again, but that struck me as unwise. Mother had decades of experience on me, both in warfare and in hunting warlocks. As much as I had closed the gap ‘tween us, I was still not her equal. Another direct confrontation was not likely to end any better for me than the first. Neigh, what I needed to do was to do something she did not expect—something that could overwhelm her attacks and defenses and achieve victory.

I had time to think about my options, reviewing all the spells, rituals and magics I knew, and an idea struck me. Once the fourth round ended, I repaired the damage done to Fort Shadowskull, making the walls thicker, adding more spikes and other embellishments before I got to my real task.

First, I created a curtain wall around Fort Shadowskull to hide mine actions. Hopefully Dusk’s soldiers would only think that I was improving the fort’s defenses rather than obscuring his sight for other purposes.

Second came the real task before me. I shooed away a score of children away to clear a spot that would allow me to work, then drew a large circle in the snow within the courtyard, taking care to ensure there were no breaks in it. I breathed heavily as I concentrated on the next spell I cast.

Within the circle, I created more ice. The wind picked up as they fed more and more snow to my growing construct, and soon my craft loomed over me and took shape. I build it a scaly hide with a long tail and neck, wings on its back, four legs ending in sharp claws, and a sloped head with a maw filled with fangs.

I smiled widely once my ice dragon was finished. All around, the children stared up at it, slack-jawed at its grandeur. This would be mine instrument of victory, and ‘twas one Mother could not hope to counter. Gale trotted up to me wide-eyed, no doubt to congratulate me for creating the creature that would destroy her husband and his forces. “Midnight, what is that? Is ... is that ice golem? In the shape of a dragon?”

I grinned widely. “Nonono, a golem would take too long to make.” I felt mine ear twitch. “Instead, I have made a vessel in which I will bind a spirit of the Plane of Ice and Wind to do my bidding. I have designed it to crush Dusk's team. Is it not wonderful?!”

Gale’s mouth hung open for a time, no doubt she was having trouble forming the words for the terrible magnificence I had brought into the world. “Midnight, that is ... grossly excessive.”

“I know!” I giggled and clapped my hooves together. “Is that not the beauty of it? Even Motherwill not be able to stand 'gainst it once I bind the spirit to the vessel!”

Gale’s eyes narrowed. “Midnight, I think mayhaps thou hast gone too far.”

“Oh neigh, not yet.” I waved dismissively. “I have not done something like unleash any windigos to bury our opponents in snow and ice for all eternity to serve as a warning to all who would cross us. That would be excessive.”

Gale let out a long sigh. “Midnight, I think thou shouldst leave the field.”

I blinked a couple of times, not understanding what she meant. Why would she wish for me to leave? I was about to give her victory after so many difficult battles. I gasped as I realized what must be her problem with me. “Neigh!” I prostrated myself before Gale and wrapped my legs around hers, looking up at her as I felt my lower lip quiver. “Please, reconsider! I know I have failed thee thus far, but I can win! I know I can! Please, give me a second, err...” I realized I had been eliminated not once, but a total of four times while fighting for Gale. “A fifth chance! Give me that and I will succeed!”

Gale blinked, taken aback by my pleas. “Midnight...”

I felt tears well up in my eyes, feeling like a poor friend indeed to Gale. All she had asked of me was that I use my talents to help her win her a victory ‘gainst her husband, yet for all my skill, we had lost three of the four rounds. If she could not count on me for a simple exercise for children, then how could she ever trust me with something more important?

“I know I am not some great warrior, but I can still contribute to thy cause,” I insisted. “If given a chance, I could turn the tide as thou wish.”

Gale clenched her teeth in a grimace, and I could see her wavering in her decision. “Canst thou moderate thine actions?”

Seeing a spark of hope, I seized ‘pon it. “But of course I can!”

Gale hummed unhappily. “Then I suppose I can allow it. But no dragons.”

I nodded. “No dragons. That is an easy enough rule to follow.”

Gale let out a relieved sigh. “Good, then.”

I stood, feeling much better about the situation. “I am glad we could come to understand one another.” I trotted over to the ice construct and pressed my horn ‘gainst it. Magic flowed from my horn and into the ice as I summoned an ice spirit to inhabit the vessel and bound it. When that was done, I felt the ice construct reverberate with my magic as it stirred awake. I smiled and reached up to my creation. “Arise, Icingdeath Frostmourne Snowblower of the Frozen Heart, Bringer of Woe and Pain to My Most Hated Enemies, The Blue Team in General and the Perfidious Filly in Particular! Rise to thy master's call!”

“Midnight,” Gale growled. “What are thou doing?”

I felt a giggle rise up in my throat that I could not resist. “I am bringing Icingdeath to life, of course.”

Gale ground her teeth together. “I thought we said no dragons.”

“Aye, my dear friend, this is not a dragon.” My ear twitched. “This is an ice construct inhabited by an ice spirit. 'Tis completely different.”

Gale stomped a hoof. “Thou grasped my meaning, Midnight! Thou art not a stupid mare. Thou didst twist my words to thine own ends.”

“Not now, Gale.” I waved her off. She would see that I was right soon enough; I merely had to make a demonstration of Icingdeath’s power. “I simply must show Mother what I have done.” I wrung my hooves together as the ice spirit tested the bounds of its shell.

“Midnight, stop this.”

“Mine apologies, Gale!” I started my trot to the gate of the curtain wall. “But I am afraid I must cite the Fourth Axiom of Lyequinegus. I am sure thou art familiar with it—you pegasi to so love to quote him often enough.”

Gale applied her hoof to her face. “I suppose there is nothing I can do to stop thee?”

I shook my head. “Neigh, thou canst not stop me. The Blue Team cannot stop me. The Perfidious Filly cannot stop me! Mother cannot stop me! NOTHING IN THE WORLD CAN STOP ME NOW!”

I laughed well and good.

I trotted out towards the Blues, a big smile on my lips. After so many struggles and setbacks, victory would now be mine! Gale was so confident in me she had not even bothered to send any of her children along with me to defeat Dusk. That was fine; that only meant more of the glory would be mine.

As before, ‘twas Mother who came out to meet me, accompanied by children that probably wished to see another match ‘tween powerful magi. She stopped short of me, that ever-confident smile on her face. “And so we meet again, my child.”

I could not help but giggle at the knowledge of what I had to reveal to Mother. “So we do, Mother. And this time 'twill be I who emerges victorious.”

Mother raised an eyebrow. “And what makes thee so certain?”

My ear twitched. “I see what my problem is when facing you in battle. I am always playing the game as by your rules, in a way that is to your advantage.” I made another deep-throated giggle. “Then it came to me: I needed to change the way the game worked, and not in some small way, neigh. I needed to do something you would never, ever expect. So I did something mad!”

“What hast thou done, child?” Mother asked warily.

I could no longer contain myself. I had to reveal what I had done. “Behold, Mother! The instrument of your destruction!”

Reacting to my will, Icingdeath reared up from behind the curtain wall. Its eyes narrowed as it glared down towards the Blues. I noted proudly that the ice dragon was the size of a building, blue scales glistening in the sunlight. It climbed up onto the wall and let out a mighty roar that made the ground shake. The Blues let out cries of terror and fled en masse, as was only appropriate.

To my delight, Mother’s jaw dropped. ‘Twas so rare that I could surprise her that I savored the image and made sure to memorize it for eternity. “Child, please tell me that is an illusion.”

I rolled mine eyes. “Please, I know that a mere illusion would never fool you, much less defeat you. But Icingdeath Frostmourne Snowblower of the Frozen Heart, on the other hoof...” I chopped down with a hoof, and Icingdeath acted. It drew in a big breath, and once its lungs were full, it unleashed its fury upon the Blues. A torrent of snowballs flew from its mouth, spraying their line from one end to the other. The Blues were hammered by the assault, many of the children practically buried beneath the snow.

“Do you see, Mother?! Victory is mine!” Something welled up within my belly, and a great uproarious laugh overcame me. I laughed as I had never laughed before as the Blues were decimated by my creation.

Unsurprisingly, Mother did not stand for this. She built up a great fireball and then launched it at Icingdeath. The fireball hit its head and blew it into a fine mist. Icingdeath jerked at the carnage, but it did not fall from the wall. Instead, it stood passively for a long moment as the ice spirit went to work. A great gust whipped at us as snow was sucked towards beast’s neck, as the ice spirit used the fresh snow to slowly but surely regenerate the construct’s head.

I giggled, my ear feeling like it had a will of its own as it twitched. “Please, did you think I would build such a construct that could be so easily defeated by fire when I knew you were on the field? Give me some credit, Mother.”

Mother frowned. “Oh ... this could be a problem.”

I smile coyly. “Do you wish to surrender? I can be most gracious in victory if mine enemies surrender when 'tis clear their defeat is inevitable.”

Mother glowered as she was faced with utter defeat. There was nothing, nothing she could do to defeat the ice dragon. Not when she had already been drained by our previous battle and with no preparation to deal with such a foe. There was nothing the Blues could hope to do ‘gainst Icingdeath. They were poorly equipped to deal with such a foe, and ‘twould only be a matter of time until I reigned supreme.

That is when everything came apart.

A great beam of bright yellow light struck out from one end of the field and struck Icingdeath in the head. Once again its head was destroyed, but unlike Mother’s attack, the yellow beam continued moving slowly down its body downwards and evaporating the ice as it went. It even melted the section of the curtain wall the ice dragon was leaning ‘gainst.

Soon Icingdeath Frostmourne Snowblower of the Frozen Heart was gone. Exactly like my dreams of victory.

My jaw dropped. What had happened? Did Mother possess some spell I had not known about to destroy my creation? I looked to her, but she was staring off with wide eyes at where the dragon had been, looking as dumbstruck as I.

‘Twas all the more startling when a snowball shot past me and smashed ‘gainst the side of her head. Mother blinked, running her hoof along where the snowball had hit her. “What?”

I jerked away, surprised by the sudden assault. Nopony was even standing near us. Who was doing all of this?

I looked down to the side of the field where the snowball had come from. ‘Twas there that I saw a sight that made my heart sink. There was a shimmer in the air as a great veil that covered the side of the field ‘tween the Blues and Reds slowly dissipated, revealing none other than Princess Celestia, Sovereign of Equestria, Sol Invictus—and leader of her own army of children. They stood by Her Highness and her yellow banner, every one of them wearing a scarf of the same color. She must have gathered a vast horde from the children of Canterlot. That was the only answer that made sense. How or why I did not know, but I knew that mine eyes did not lie to me.

Princess Celestia smiled beatifically as she stood proudly in front of her army. She raised a hoof and called out with the Royal Canterlot Voice. “CHILDREN! TO BATTLE!”

There was a great cheer from the Yellows as they charged forward. The sight made my heart sink. Defeat. That was what faced us and I knew it. Her Highness’ army may not have had the discipline and organization of the Kickers, but unlike the Kicker Clan children, ‘twas fresh, enthusiastic, and under Princess Celestia’s personal leadership.

Some primal instinct rose up within me, and I quickly raised a shield just in time to block a snowball flung by Her Highness. Half a dozen more followed swiftly behind it, thrown with terrible accuracy from a range I could not hope to match. My remaining magic had been badly drained from the creation of Icingdeath, and I was no longer in a state where I could wield my more powerful spells.

I did the only thing I could think to do: I held my shield and ran for Fort Shadowskull as fast as my legs could carry me. I considered myself fortunate that I managed to get into the fort before Princess Celestia’s army could cut me off. Some of those children were damnably fast, and they would soon be laying siege to our defenses. I doubted Dusk’s forces would last long after the casualties I had inflicted ‘pon them. The curtain wall had been already been penetrated, so likely ‘twould not be long before it fell and the final battle began in earnest. Already I could hear the children of the Red and Yellow teams battling one another.

I retreated to the inner sanctum of Fort Shadowskull. ‘Twas there I tried to catch my breath and think of a plan, any plan to turn this around.

My time ran out before I could come up with such an ingenious plan.

A section of one of the walls disappeared in a puff of steam. Princess Celestia herself strode through that new hole and smiled down at me; a second later, score ‘pon score of children flooded into the inner sanctum of Fort Shadowskull and surrounded me in short order. Each of them had a snowball in hoof and a hungry look in their eye that made me feel like I was ‘bout to be set ‘pon by a pack of wolves. There were even children standing by the murder-holes, ready to rain down snowballs on me.

But among all those eager children, one face stood out to me: that of the perfidious filly who had so treacherously smitten me earlier. Evil dripped from her victorious smile, like cruor from a raven’s beak—she did not even have the decency to face her end with her comrades-in-arms, having instead turned her tabard and joined the Yellows the moment it was clear the Blues were about to lose. Truly, she had the blackest heart this day.

Princess Celestia carefully made her way through the children that had filled the room so that she could smile down ‘pon me. “So, Magus Midnight Sparkle. Dost thou have any final words?”

This was it. Defeat faced me. There was no escape and fighting was futile. There was but one thing that could be done in such a situation: face my doom with dignity.

“Meep!”

I tried to meet my doom with dignity, I really did.

And then the snowballs came raining down.