Wilted Blossoms on Early Graves
Author's Note
This is a story I've been working on for the past few weeks. It started as an idea--a group of guards standing over their deceased comrade. They went on to fight an incredibly outnumbered battle, naturally dying off one by one, but taking several dozen enemies with them. It changed into what you'll read below as I started writing it down. In fact, I've added the first rough draft in the second chapter to show you exactly how much it had changed over time and to give a little bit of background on the seven ponies you'll read about. (also I got 2k words in and didn't want to just erase all of that effort)
Don't be afraid to leave a comment and criticism, and feel free to mention a song you think would make a good story.
I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Wilted Blossoms on Early Graves
The sounds of fighting could be heard even this far underground. Screams could be heard through wood and dirt, explosions felt through the very being of a pony. The guards huddled in a circle around a poor stallion didn’t look at each other, in fear that they, themselves, would draw attention, and their tears would betray their feelings to the others. Even through their sorrow, they each—one by one—pulled themselves away from the corpse laying calmly at their hooves.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” said a young earth pony guard. He looked over his friend’s mutilated body and remembered the moment he met the stallion. He recalled the clumsy way he handled a spear and how he’d nearly taken his head off. He thought about his friend’s family and how they would react to the news of his passing. He wondered what his own family would do and if any of them were even still alive.
“It’s a real shame.” A voice to his right snapped him out of his thoughts. “But there’s work to be done. We need to get back to it.”
Wild strikes looked over his deceased friend once more before turning his back and leaving the room, his head held low in shame and sorrow. Rapid Charge made to follow him, but glanced to the corner before he did. He looked over the poor stallion’s killer for a long while, making sure the thing that had ended his life and taken his place wasn’t alive, itself. There wasn’t much reason to, since its head was no longer connected to its body, but he would be damned if it would take another of his men.
Once satisfied the creature wasn’t playing a sick trick, he followed the rest of his guards out of the room.
“How does that feel?” asked a soft-spoken unicorn to his patient as his horn’s glow dimmed.
“Much better.” The young filly he’d been treating flexed her left forehoof, showing off the good-as-new joint. She smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Good.” Hazel Blossom stood up and nudged Dahlia back towards her mother. The grown mare nearly cried as her filly returned to her. She looked up at Hazel with a grateful smile as she hugged her daughter.
Hazel gave a small nod as he turned around and trotted back to the group, who’d regathered on the far side of the room.
“But we’re too deep in the shopping district to make it there!” protested a pegasus. “You and I can make it, but we’d be leaving the rest of them to die!”
“Soar, keep your voice down!” Rapid Charge whispered harshly.
“Maybe if I made a mad dash for the palace to bring reinforcements,” Soaring Surfer suggested, his voice much calmer than before.
“No. We need as many hooves here so we can get all of us back to safety.” Rapid’s voice was firm as he looked to his other men, then glanced back to the mare holding her young filly.
Soar looked as though he was going to argue, but caught a glance of the mare who’d been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. His mouth shut with finality and he looked back to his commanding officer.
“What’s the plan?” he asked, confident in Rapid’s ability to get them all home to their families.
Rapid looked around, making note of what he had to work with. He looked over each guard’s wounds and what weapons they had access to.
“Wild Strikes!” he suddenly barked firmly.
Reflexively, Wild fell into a stoic solute. The pony favored his left hoof, which had taken a small slash in a previous fight, but he was still by far the strongest of the group with his hooves.
“You will stick by that mare’s side, without exception. You will leave her for no one and no reason.” Rapid gave his orders quickly and sternly, but Wild didn’t need to be told twice.
“Sir, yes sir!” he shouted, finishing his solute.
“Hazel Blossom! Thunder Haze!” Rapid continued calling names.
Hazel blossom made the most serious look he could as he brought his hoof to his forehead, but that wasn’t all that stern, given the circumstances. Thunder Haze made his solute with a wide grin, itching to get out of the cramped building and start cracking heads.
“You’ll be on defense. If anything gets too close to Wild, you break it.” Spittle flew from Rapid’s mouth, showing his fury towards the enemy.
“Sir, yes sir!” Thunder shouted and Hazel tried to shout.
The two brought their hooves down, one a soft clop the other a loud stamp. Rapid then looked to the last two.
“Soaring Surfer and Moonlight Hunter,” he spoke softly to the pegasus and the thestral as they stared straight ahead and had their hooves up already. “You two will be with me, in the skies. We’re the first line of defense, and you know what that means.”
The somber mood permeated everyone’s thoughts. Soar kept his face as serious as he could as he responded right away, but Moon hesitated for but a moment.
“Sir, yes sir.” The two responded, if not together.
Rapid kept his eyes on Moon, but there wasn’t disappointment or rage behind his gaze. There was sorrow and sympathy. Moon hadn’t known his new commanding officer for long, but he didn’t know him as the kind of commander that would show pity towards his soldiers.
“Alright, let’s get a move on. I want to be at the palace by nightfall!” he called to his men, trying to gather what little moral they had left.
“Sir, yes sir!” the five stallions chanted as one.
And, with that, the group was rushing about, collecting supplies and readying what supplies they could efficiently carry on their backs to the palace. Within half an hour the group was ready to leave.
“Ma’am?” Wild Strikes approached the mare cautiously, to not spook her. She looked up to him with hopeful eyes, eyes he hoped could keep the beautiful intelligence they currently held. He didn’t want to see another pony with the glossed-over look he’d seen on his best friend earlier that day. “We’re about to be on our way. You’ll be safe in the palace in no time.” He tried to give the mare a comforting smile, but it came off as more of a hopeful grin.
“Oh, thank Celestia,” she whispered to herself, then looked at her foal. “Dahlia, we’re about to be on our way. Collect your things and get ready to go.” She nudged the filly towards a small blanket and a stuffed pony.
While this happened, Moonlight Hunter approached Rapid Charge, a concerned look in his eye.
“Sir,” he said, with a brief solute. “Something’s wrong.”
“What is it?” Rapid asked as he motioned Thunder Haze to continue packing saddlebags.
“Do you hear that?”
The entire room went silent as the other five guardsponies and the grown mare swiveled their ears about, trying to locate the sound that Moon was talking about. Though it was dead silent in the room, none of them heard a peep. They looked to one another, confused.
“Hear what, Moonlight?” Rapid was just as confused, but trusted the ears of the thestral, who were famous for their sensitive hearing.
“Exactly.”
The tension in the room grew tenfold as the guards understood exactly what Moon was talking about. Not an hour ago, the sounds of battle were clear as day, even under all the rubble and dirt; but now there wasn’t anything—no screams, no explosions, no sounds. Though an optimistic pony might say that this meant the battle was over and it was safe to go out, any guard worth their salt would tell you it wasn’t so simple.
“We have to get moving,” Rapid urged the group, redoubling his efforts, and helped Thunder pack saddlebags.
Preparations that would have taken another fifteen minutes were completed in five and the group had moved from the cellar to the first level of the building. Ducking below windows and moving as silently as hooves can on hardwoods, they made their way to the front door. Rapid Charge peaked out the front door, checking the intersection it led to for hostiles. When he was sure it was safe, he waved the pegasus and thestral through, following shortly after and allowing room for the earthbound ponies to follow.
The flying ponies took off instantly, making wide sweeps around the clearing to check back allies and other streets. It chilled them to their core at how empty the streets were and, once the unicorns and earth ponies had made some progress, this worry was made verbal.
“Shouldn’t there be more bodies?” asked Thunder Haze.
Hazel Blossom shot a concerned glance at the mare and her filly before responding in a soft whisper, though that wasn’t anything new for the stallion. “Perhaps they’re taking prisoners instead of killing us,” he suggested hopefully.
“No, you and I saw how many ponies were getting slaughtered in the streets when we were sent as support.” Thunder continued looking around, searching for the slightest hint of a foe—half wanting to crush something in his magical grasp, half wishing his concerns were unfounded.
Further conversation was silenced as the sound of a magic bolt sounded. Winged ponies took evasive action and the unicorns threw up a basic shield spell, but the bolt wasn’t aimed at them.
“No, please!” came a shout from around the corner. “Don’t! N-” the shouting was cut off by another magical blast.
Rapid Charge beat his wings, flinging him towards the sound, where he found a unicorn standing over a crumpled body. Rapid recognized what had happened and, without hesitation, folded his wings in and thrust his hind legs forward. His hooves contacted the pony’s head, sending the poor stallion to the ground. Rapid landed on all fours, making a ready stance as the rest of the group rounded the corner.
The pony stood up and looked at Rapid. “What the buck?!” he shouted at the pegasus, rubbing his head as he moved to stand up again.
“Can it,” Rapid said simply as he spun his body around and bucked the stallion in the head again, a sharp snap sounding from his neck and his body fell to the ground in a heap.
Rapid looked over at the other body, an exact replica of the pony he’d just bucked to death. Though, it would be more accurate to say that the pony he’d just bucked was the replica, as the imposter burst into green flames, revealing the chitin covered changeling.
Rapid took a deep breath, calming his racing heart once more, as he took to the sky again.
“We’ve still got another two dozen blocks before we reach our destination. Let’s get a move on!” he urged, returning to his original course.
Moonlight Hunter was the quietest of the group. The landlocked ponies’ hooves sounded on the concrete and the other flyers’ wings made swishing noises as they glided and flapped through the air. Because of this, he took it upon himself to fly low and fast over the rooftops, searching for any possible threats. Tension rose with every second he flew. There was nopony—no living thing—around. He searched along their path, but couldn’t even find a mouse or alley cat.
‘A ghost town,’ he thought to himself as he flapped his wings to return to the group.
“Nothing ahead, sir.” Moon hovered next to Rapid, relaying the conditions of the roads and buildings ahead, noting a particularly unstable house they should give a wide birth.
“Good,” Rapid sighed internally. “This should be a relatively quiet stroll through the streets of Canterlot.” He spoke more to himself than Moon, but the thestral’s ears were better than most ponies.
“I don’t think that’s the case, sir.” Caught off guard by Moon’s statement, Rapid looked him in the eye, noting the intense worry he was expressing.
“What do you mean? It sounds like it’s a straight shot.” Rapid looked around, having disregarded his surroundings for far too long.
“That’s why I’m worried, sir. It seems too easy.” Moon leaned in close and whispered as if there could be a spy listening from the nonexistent shadows. “The whole city was under siege not two hours ago, they wouldn’t just up and leave.”
Rapid regarded his surroundings again, taking a glance to his ground units before looking back to Moonlight. “What do you suggest?” he asked seriously.
“Nothing yet. But, if something goes wrong, we’ll need to make a hasty escape. Do you really think the unicorns and earth ponies can make that happen?” Moon followed Rapid’s previous gaze, looking down at one of his fellow guardsponies and friends as he escorted the mare and filly.
“Our mission is to deliver the civilians to the palace, where it’s safe.” Rapid pulled Moons attention back to himself. “That come first, everything else is secondary.” With that said, the Captain beat his wings to take a quick look down another alleyway.
Moon watched him go, anticipation building in his gut. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure exactly what, yet.
“Sir,” Moon glided over to where Rapid had been flying. “This one, here.”
Moonlight gestured to a three-story apartment building that had a wall blown out. It looked as though the entire structure was being held up by a few supporting beams inside the building. Moon took note of a stiff wind and watched at the structure teetered on the edge of collapse.
“I’m no architect, but that building doesn’t look like it’ll stand for much longer.” Soaring had flown up to his comrades, watching the building for any more deviation.
“Go tell Wild we’re changing course. Take a left, then a right further down the road.” Rapid didn’t take his eyes off of the building as he said this.
Soar gave a quick solute before divebombing the space next to Wild Strikes, pulling up at the last moment for a soft-yet-fast landing. He shook his mane out of his eyes before looking to Wild.
“We’re taking a slight detour. A building up ahead looks on the verge of collapse. Left up ahead, then a right.” Soar conveyed his message before taking off again.
Wild Strikes nodded, visualizing his new route before finding the next left and leading the group that direction. He looked around the new street, taking in all the windows and alleys that could be utilized in an ambush. He kept his head on a swivel as he moved on, but made sure the mare and filly were in his sights at all times.
Not one hundred paces in the stallion froze in his tracks. A shadow had moved in one of the windows, or so he thought. Thunder Haze came up from behind, looking where Wild had locked his eyes.
“What do you see?” Thunder asked, nudging Wild from his semi-petrification.
“I have a bad feeling.” Wild didn’t take his eyes off the window.
Thunder leaned in and spoke in a sharp whisper. “Ever get the feeling you’re being watched?”
Not a moment later the street was filled with life. Cardboard boxes flipped to reveal changelings, windows all around shattered as changelings jumped through, alleys were filled with changelings as they flooded from the darkness.
“Ponyfeathers!” Wild whispered urgently under his breath. “This way!”
He made a quick U-turn and began heading back the way they came, quickly coming to the intersection they’d turned on. Making a quick, on the spot decision, he turned left. Wild’s eyes still scanning the surrounding buildings for potential attackers, he noticed the unstable building Soar had told him about. Completely disregarding the previous warning, as the threat hot on their hooves was much greater and more certain, he made a mad dash for the empty wall.
“Keep running!” he shouted to the ground group.
They did just that, bringing their heads lower to the ground as they followed the street past the building. The changeling hoard wasn’t far behind, but they didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry, as if they knew their prey wasn’t getting away. Of course, Wild had a wild idea—one he didn’t like very much, but seemed the best he could come up with on such short notice.
He bucked the support beams.
The first beam looked as though it had been eroding for the past few years already, shattering easily upon first impact. Shards lodged in his legs, but the adrenaline held the pain back. The building wobbled, but didn’t topple. Wild dashed to the next closest beam and gave it a solid buck. It made a cracking sound, but didn’t give. He reared back to try again, this time with more vigor. The wood bent at a dangerous angle, but didn’t give completely. Wild decided that would have to be enough and once more weight was on it the beam would collapse. He looked around for another beam before noticing a figure coming straight for him.
“Out of the way!” Rapid yelled as he came flying through the open wall, crashing directly into a beam on the far end of the room. “Get out of here, Wild!” he shouted as his hooves made contact.
“But-” Wild went to argue, but Rapid cut him off, as if he knew the earth pony would try to argue.
“That’s an order!” he shouted, giving the beam another buck, one which caused it to crumble and the building to lean. “NOW!!”
Wild turned for the exit, making a quick hop over the remains of the wall once more and did his best to dodge falling pieces of wall and wood. He only glanced back once to see Rapid also making his way out of the building, but even with his wings, he wasn’t making much distance. Pegasi weren’t built to buck solid wood. Wild turned back to the task at hoof: getting to safety.
As he turned his head back to the front he noticed the changelings had picked up speed. Wild redoubled his efforts to catch up to his group. As a fit earth pony he made pretty good time. He looked back to see Rapid Charge had stopped running and instead faced the entire hoard of changelings alone.
“Sir!” Wild shouted, looking up at the building that had just reached a dangerous tipping point.
Rapid turned his head back just in time to catch Wild’s eye once more. He smiled to his former subordinate. A loving smile that a father might give to his son during a special moment, perhaps his first touchdown in hoofball or getting his cutie mark.
His attention returned to the changeling hoard as he took air into his considerable pegasus lungs.
“COME AND GET ME YOU SHAPESHIFTING BASTARDS!!!” he yelled before launching himself down a back alley.
Just as it crossed his mind to try to pursue his commander, the building collapsed, obstructing Wild’s view of Rapid. Wild stood for a moment longer, watching the settling rubble hoping that, by some miracle, the dust would clear and Rapid would be standing before him triumphantly, changeling corpses littered about the street.
When it became clear that there would be no such return, Wild turned his back. He Didn’t even look back at the wreckage as he ran. He knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to hold his tears back.
“Wild! Where’s Rapid?” Soaring Surfer asked as he landed next to the earth pony. “I lost him when the building started to fall.”
“He led the changelings away from us. Took them down another path.” Wild kept trotting as the implications sunk in for Soar.
Neither guard said anything as Soar took to the air again.
The group quickly got back into formation, the pegasus keeping watch over the sky and unicorns preparing shielding spells. Wild Strikes kept his eyes on his surroundings, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d never lost anyone before, let alone his commander. Sure, ponies he knew were probably gone, but he didn’t have to leave those ponies behind. There was something in the way he’d lost Rapid that constantly tugged at his mind.
“Wild!” Hazel Blossom spoke the loudest any of the other guards had ever heard, which was closer to a loud inside voice than an actual shout. “We have a problem.”
“What’s wrong?” Wild asked as he followed the unicorn’s eyes.
The mare was panting heavily, holding her barrel with one hoof as she pushed on. Though her coat was a nice, rosy red, the undeniable stain of blood dripped from where her hoof was.
“I’ve been patching her up every now and again, but all the running has agitated the wound and broken most of the stitches. We’re either going to have to stop or I fear she won’t make it.” Hazel informed Wild, glancing back and forth from him to the struggling mare.
Without responding, or even really acknowledging Hazel’s report, Wild moved to trot next to the mare.
“How’re you holding up, ma’am?” he asked casually, smiling at the filly riding on her back.
“I-I’m just fine! Just not used to so much…” she gasped for breath, “exercise.”
“It’s been a long trip already, but we’re not out of the woods, yet. We’re going to have to stop soon to rest. I can’t have ponies passing out on me in transit.” Wild looked her over as he spoke, making not of her favoring her left hind leg and a nasty bruise forming on her back.
“I can keep going! I-” she nearly tripped over herself trying to convince Wild she was all right.
Luckily for her and the filly on her back, Wild was right there to catch her. He stopped trotting to support her completely, helping her regain her balance. He looked back to Hazel, nodding to the filly on her back and then to his own. The unicorn caught on and focused on moving the filly to Wild’s back. The mare panicked briefly before realizing Dahlia was fine and probably safer on Wild’s back.
“Please, take my daughter to the palace. Keep her safe,” she pleaded with Wild.
“Ma’am, my orders are to get both of you to the palace,” he said as he took a step away, allowing the mare to support herself completely. “You’re going to make it. Both of you.” Wild smiled at the mare reassuringly.
The mare gaped at his confidence and kindness. “You… you mean it?” she asked, tears already coming to her eyes.
“I promise.” Wild then turned his gaze to the sky, catching Moonlight Hunter’s watchful eye and motioning him and Soaring Surfer to land.
The guards regrouped and ventured into a nearby building, Thunder Haze leading Wild, Hazel, the mare and Dahlia through the tight turns of the hotel, horn at the ready to vaporize any possible threat. Moon and Soar ran ahead, checking room after room to make sure there weren’t any changelings or survivors in hiding.
Both returned shortly after, reporting no other beings in the facility. Wild turned to the second room on the right, opening the door and making sure it was unoccupied himself before helping the mare up onto the bed.
“I’m going to make you all better,” Hazel Blossom spoke kindly to her as the filly sat next to him.
He opened his saddlebags to fish out his medical supplies; extracting a scalpel, gauze, and a thread and needle. The mare shivered at the sight of the needle again, remembering the first time she was operated on by the field medic. Hazel quickly soothed her.
“It won’t be more than a pinch this time. Last time was in…” he searched for the word for a moment, looking at her once again with a soft smile, “extraneous situations.”
“What’s your name?” Wild asked her, sitting on her other side.
Her head whipped around, searching his face for some kind of jest or ulterior motive. She found none; just a calm, curious face.
“Uh… Camellia Bloom.” Camellia seemed more confused by the question than anything.
Wild chuckled, looking over the mare at Hazel as he began the operation. “Any relation, Hazy?” he asked playfully.
“I assure you-” He was cut off as the mare looked over to him, only just noticing the stallion had already started working his way up the laceration, his horn aglow with several medical magics.
She jerked a little bit, forcing Hazel to pull the needle away carefully, making sure not to give the poor mare any more holes to worry about. He shot a demanding glance to Wild who was already on it.
“Camellia!” he called her attention back to himself. “What’s your special talent?”
The question once again brought only confusion, but she looked down to her flank regardless.
“I’m a floral arranger. I sell flowers regularly and design the large displays you might find at the Grand Galloping Gala or some such party,” she informed him.
“Have you done a Gala before? I might have seen your work.” The enthusiasm in Wild’s voice was forced, but Camellia was busy talking about her love and passion for flowers.
“Oh, yeah. In fact, I did last year’s display! I was scheduled to do this year’s as well, but I’m not sure if Canterlot will be in any state for a party when the time rolls around.” She seemed genuinely disappointed.
“I bet it would be just as beautiful as last year’s,” Wild told her idly as he exchanged a glance with Hazel, who gave him a nod as he cut the needle free and tied off the stitching. “In fact, I’d be willing to bet the Gala will go on as planned this year. We pony folk are made of tougher stuff than a changeling invasion could ever throw our way!”
Dahlia, the little filly sitting next to Hazel, propped her front hooves up on the bed and yelled “Yeah!” in excitement.
Both stallions chuckled at the filly’s antics, reveling in the pure innocence that foalhood grants.
But, like all good things, the moment came to an end.
“Wild, Hazel, we need to get going.” Soaring nearly whispered through the door.
“What’s wrong, Hazel?” Wild asked as he stood and made his way towards the door.
“Moon found a couple changeling scouts on an upper level.” Wild gave him a nod before turning back to Hazel.
“How long until we can move her?” he asked, looking the mare over again.
“I can go no—ouch!” she yelped as she tried to sit up.
Hazel immediately examined the wound, satisfied that the stitching hadn’t broken he looked up at Wild.
“I’d normally say five to ten minutes, but as long as we don’t do any more running any time soon…” He trailed off, but wild got the idea.
“Alright. Hazel, you’re with Camellia. Make sure she doesn’t strain herself. Soar, take Dahlia and stay close to her mother. I’ll go get Moon and Thunder and we’ll be on our way.” Wild passed Soar as he made his way to a set of stairs.
“Be careful, Wild. There may be more,” Soar warned as Wild began his ascent.
Wild didn’t respond, already examining every crack and crevice for potential threats. He didn’t find anything more than a creaky step or two. He reached the third level and exited the staircase, finding a hallway on the other side of the door. He took brief glances into each room as he passed by. All of them were furnished and well kept. If he didn’t know any better, he would think it was just a slow day at the hotel.
Of course, it was anything but a slow day.
“Wild, there you are!” he heard from down the hall.
A quick glance confirmed the voice to be Moonlight Hunter’s. His head was peeking out of a room further down the hallway without the typical thestral guard helm and his mane flowed freely in the still air. Wild made a quick trot to the thestral and looked him over. A bump here, a scratch there—but no worse for wear. Wild had heard about the combat capabilities of the thestral guard princess Luna had trained, herself, but he’d never seen them in action. He cursed his timing for not catching any of the action.
“Where are the changelings?” Wild asked, glancing around the room to find the insectoid corpses.
“Behind the bed. I couldn’t stand to see their buggy faces, so I covered them with a blanket.” Moon motioned to the bed, which Wild now noticed was missing its top blanket. “Yuck…”
“Right.” Wild glanced down at the two piles of death through the blanket. “Gruesome…” he whispered to himself as he noticed that the anatomy didn’t even resemble a changeling anymore—legs had been bent in the wrong directions and there were large chunks that should’ve been attached to the body that… weren’t.
“Pardon?” Moon asked as he picked up his helmet, which had been sitting next to the doorframe.
“Nothing, we’ve got to get going. Camellia’s all patched up and ready to go.” He stood up and began his way back to the door. “You know where Thunder is?”
“Yeah, I think he was on the second level,” Moon said as he fastened his helm into place.
“I’ll go get him.” Wild moved to the door, stopping in the frame. “But, before that, there’s something I should tell you. Something important.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” Moon asked, all the straps of his armor finally in place.
As he looked over at Wild Strikes a potted plant hit him in the side of the head. The helmet took the brunt of it, but his head was thoroughly rattled. He fought to regain himself to look up at Wild Strikes, who’d hurled it at him.
“What was-” he began, cut off by a stiff right hook.
“Moonlight Hunter loves the look of his prey, no matter what species or race.” Wild brought the dresser down on Moon’s back.
“W-W-Wild! I-it’s me!” he tried to plead as Wild stepped on the dresser, applying even more pressure.
“Moonlight Hunter has excellent hearing.” Wild stepped across the dresser, moving to a lamp set on the night stand.
“I-I have great hearing! I heard the group’s already starting on their way out the front door right now!” Moon tried to tell him.
“The armor only works when all of the pieces are applied, Moon would never beg me for his life, and I the group wouldn’t leave without us,” Wild finished off.
The two stared at each other for a moment, Moon under a dresser and Wild with a lamp in hoof. The two held the eye contact for what seemed like a brief eternity, waiting for the other to lose confidence in their story.
Moon burst into green flame, leaving black carapace in its wake. A hiss was all it was able to get out before Wild bashed its face in with a lamp.
Wild sighed to himself, looking at the blanket covering his friends’ bodies.
Wild opened the door and made his way down to the second floor, where Thunder Haze was, according to the changeling.
The second floor was much like the first; several doors—some open, other closed—with number plates on them. As Wild made his way down the hall he noticed Thunder looking into a room.
“Thunder! How’s it going?” Wild asked as he approached the unicorn.
“Well, it’s going fine. No changelings, yet.” He looked back at Wild. “How’s the rest of the group? Is she back on her hooves?”
“Yeah, she’s up and at ‘em. We’re about to leave. Take what you need and make your way downstairs.” Wild looked Thunder over for a moment before going back to the stairs and going back to the first level.
“Wild, we’re ready to go. Where’s Moon?” Soaring Surfer asked as he looked behind Wild in search of the thestral.
“Shut up,” Wild said as his hoof met Soar’s jaw in another right hook.
Soar was knocked into the wall, dazed by the rough strike. He regained his balance and focus just in time to dodge a buck to the head. He dropped to the ground just as Wild’s hooves met the wall.
“Wild, what in Tartarus?” he barked as he spread his wings to take off.
Wild didn’t let him, though. Instead, he brought his hind hooves down on the pegasus’ left wing, a sharp snap sounding from the bone. Soar yelped in pain, pulling his legs under him to try and make a run for it, but Wild was faster. Another quick buck and Soar was out cold on the floor.
“Wild! What the buck?” Thunder Haze had just arrived in time to see Wild buck Soar.
“That’s a changeling, Thunder. I found Moon and Soar dead on the third floor.” Wild made an obvious effort to hold his anger in.
He was losing.
It didn’t help that, at that moment, Soaring Surfer’s body burst into a green flame, revealing another changeling. Wild nearly went to attack it again, but was stopped by levitation magic. He looked into the room to see Hazel Blossom holding his hoof back. Hazel looked down at Dahlia, showing Wild how intently she was watching. This calmed Wild almost immediately.
“I’m… sorry you had to see that.” Wild lowered his hoof as he entered the room. “Alright, we have to leave. Now.”
The other five ponies began gathering what they could.
Not an hour later, the group found themselves sneaking through back alleys to try and get to the palace. The sun had started to set a few minutes ago, drowning the alleys in shadow. With two unicorns, light wasn’t an issue, though.
Two horns flickered in the darkness as the group continued. They moved swiftly and silently, making sure not to draw attention. Wild stopped at the edge of an alley, checking each direction of the street to make sure the coast was clear.
When Wild didn’t see anypony, he motioned to the others to follow and stepped into the open street. He readied himself as he looked down the road. Less than a block away stood Canterlot Palace, one of the most regal and beautiful structures in all Equestria. Wild began the last leg of his trip, towards the palace itself.
That’s when he noticed it.
The giant piles of corpses—pony corpses. They filled the small moat around the front gate and nearly reached the top of the walls. Blood pooled and flowed where water should have been, falling in a gory waterfall. The ponies in the piles were eviscerated. Some were missing limbs, others had holes in their being, more yet were simply strips of meat with bone attached. Wild nearly vomited at the sight.
Hazel Blossom, thinking fast, pulled out some gauze and wrapped it around Dahlia’s eyes, keeping her from seeing the horrific view.
“H-hey!” she protested.
“It’s okay, little one. It will all be fine.” Though he spoke kindly, the wobble in Hazel’s voice betrayed his forced confidence.
“Who would…” Thunder Haze began, stunned by the sheer number of corpses. “How are we going to get in?” he asked, moving on from the nightmare before him.
“We’ll just have to knock,” Wild said, beginning a quick trot towards the gate.
“What? Knock?” Thunder asked, catching up to Wild. “But who knows if anypony’s even still on the wall?”
“I guess we won’t until we ask.” Wild stopped a few paces before the first corpse, not willing to get any closer. “Hey!” he yelled to the small hut on top of the gate. “Is anypony up there?”
There were a few moments of silence before a voice responded. “Who goes there?” it called down.
“Wild Strikes, Hazel Bloom, and Thunder Haze. We were sent to support the front lines, but got bogged down for a few hours.” Wild took a step closer, then immediately reconsidered as the smell got exponentially worse.
“How do we know it’s you?” the voice called down.
“How do we know who you are?” he responded. “I mean, we’re not exactly hiding, and I have yet to see your face.”
There were a few moments of silence, then a furry head popped over the small wall that protected those in the hut above the gate. The pony considered the group, examining them, and picking out the smallest details it could from so far away.
“Damn…” Thunder mumbled to himself.
Wild looked to his friend, noticing his gaze was off in the distance, where a group of a dozen-or-so changelings had just noticed their presence. A few lifted off as the rest charged on hoof. Wild directed his attention back to the gate.
“Look, we need in now!” he demanded.
“But what if this is all just one big ruse?” the pony asked, looking down at him suspiciously. “Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve attacked their own in disguise to try to get them in!”
Wild turned to Thunder and Hazel, talking quick. “Get some shields up and prepare whatever offensive spells you know. We’re going to need them.”
As he finished, Hazel set up a shield around him, Camellia and Dahlia and Thunder began charging his horn to fire at the oncoming threat. Wild turned back to the wall to continue talking to the guard on duty… only to find him not paying the slightest bit of attention to him. The guard had turned around and appeared to be talking to somepony behind him.
“Wild, they’re almost here!” Thunder said urgently as he fired a light blue bolt at the closest one, striking it center mass as it ran, crumpling it under itself.
“Open the gate!” came a shout from above said gate.
The large wooden door began to lean down, but nowhere near fast enough. Wild turned to Hazel and Thunder, something in his eyes communicating exactly what was going to happen.
They both nodded and took Camellia and Dahlia in their magical grasps, dropping the shield and disarming the attack spell. They lifted the mare and filly over the lowering wood and let the sit on the far side of the moat. Thunder then turned to Wild—but was stopped by a firm glare from the earth pony.
“Hazel first,” he said simply.
“But-” Hazel tried to argue.
“We don’t have time! Go!” Wild shouted as he readied himself for a fight.
Thunder hesitated only a moment longer before enveloping Hazel Blossom in his grasp, quickly moving him from one side of the moat to the other.
“Now, you,” Thunder said as he suddenly grabbed Wild in his grasp and flung him over the moat.
“Woah!” Wild shouted as he landed on his flank, skidding to a halt in front of Hazel, who had just regained himself.
“Thunder!” Wild shouted, then turned to those on the other side of the gate. “Somepony get him over here!”
A couple of unicorns began charging their horns, but a sharp scream stopped them. Then… nothing. Thunder fell silent as the gate began to raise itself again.
“Thunder…” Wild said to himself, stomping his hoof on the cobblestone in anger. “Damn it all....”
Wild stood up, rubbing his flank, and began his long trek towards the palace proper. It was still a ten-minute walk to the throne room and he needed to get there soon.
Wild looked up at the night sky as he trotted. He wasn’t one for astronomy, but he swore he saw five new stars in the night sky.
The group was lead swiftly through the courtyard and into the castle proper. They took a couple turns before arriving in the infirmary, where Hazel Blossom immediately leant his services. The unicorn found the closest injured pony and began examining them and treating injuries.
Camellia Bloom and Dahlia took a seat in a corner with those that looked better off than some of the others. Dahlia began playing simple games with some of the other colts and fillies in the room while Camellia talked to the older ponies. Some of them were crying for lost ones; others were crying for fear of those that hadn’t shown up, yet; more yet were attempting to comfort those that were crying, but not holding the tears back much better.
Wild Strikes was led further into the castle, where several higher-ranking officials greeted them. The round table they sat around was thick and solid, but was covered in a large map of the city. All eyes turned to the lowly guard as the doors closed behind him.
“Wild Strikes, you’ve been in the city for the past forty-two hours. What is the status of the city?” asked General Green Island, lovingly called General Green Eye, or G.I., in informal company.
Wild looked around at all the badges and bars the others in the room wore, feeling extremely out of place, for a stallion that’s only been on the force for a few years. He swallowed his nervousness and performed the most rigid solute he’d ever done.
“It’s Tartarus out there, sir.” He made sure his eyes didn’t drift from the clock, focusing on the ticking second hand to calm himself and keep his thoughts straight. “Changelings have set up ambush points and destabilized buildings in random locations. We lost six of our squad just getting here.” The older ponies in the room murmured to each other for a moment before the General looked back to Wild, who was still holding his solute.
“Thank you, Wild. Please follow Sargent NoKwarter for reassignment.” He then looked down to his map, examining the layout and potential ambush areas in the cities.
“Sir,” Wild interrupted the conversation, still holding his solute.
All conversation stopped and every set of eyes were now on Wild. It wasn’t unheard of for lower-ranked guards to talk back to those above them, but it was met with swift and harsh punishment.
“Is there something else, Wild Strikes?” the General asked as an eyebrow raised on his forehead.
“Just a question, sir.” Wild held his solute still, afraid if he twitched even a little he would be court marshaled for improper posture, or something just as ridiculous.
“Alright, ask away.” The General leaned on his front hooves, propping up his head as he prepared for the guard’s question.
“What’s our plan, sir?” Though the pony was scared well out of his mind for what might happen next, he held his stance and watched the clock tick by.
“We have none.”
“Huh?” Wild asked, letting his body become more slack as he looked down at the stallion in command of the entire Canterlot army.
“We’ve sent for reinforcements from several cities, but Celestia knows how many will arrive at their destinations. And, even if they do, it’s possible that those cities are in a similar state. We have nothing to combat this attack with. So, Wild Strikes, we have no plan.” General Green Island put his hooves on the floor once again, looking Wild directly in the eye as he spoke. “Of course, I’m open to suggestions if you have any. At this point, you’re the best source for information on the changeling threat.”
Wild became increasingly slack as the General continued, eventually letting his hoof touch the tiled floor. He looked to the other ponies around the table, who all seemed to be watching him for any answers. Some actually seemed to have hope in their eyes.
The room was drowned in silence while the stallion processed exactly what was happening. The leader of Canterlot’s armed forces had asked for his advice, putting him on the spot and giving him an incredible opportunity.
Wild steeled himself as he walked up to the map, looking over the buildings and chips that marked known changeling gathering points. Once he oriented himself to the map he pointed to a building he recognized.
“This building, it’s collapsed now. It’ll be difficult to get ground troops down Cedar Road.” As he spoke a unicorn’s horn lit up and a quill marked rubble over the street where he’d designated. “The changelings can move in enormous groups, even covering a street as large as Forth Street. Small groups could be taken out in moments.” Some of the other ponies in the room looked surprised and began writing down notes as Wild spoke; Green Island kept his eyes intently locked on Wild, occasionally drifting to the map when he mentioned something about the landscape.
Wild mentioned several other buildings that had collapsed and potential ambush spots he’d noticed and described the locations and possible tactics. When he seemed to finish, Green Island looked him over.
“Is there anything you can tell us about the changelings themselves?” he asked. “It seems like you had a close encounter with them. What gave them away?”
“They have bad hearing,” he said, confusing a couple of the ponies around him; even the General furrowed his brow. “Thestral guards have impeccable hearing. When Moonlight Hunter, a thestral, was being impersonated I whispered something and he didn’t catch it. And I don’t think they understand the enchantments we have on our armor.” Wild took a moment to think of other things he’d learned about the shapeshifters, but couldn’t think of anything specific.
“Make it so all guards must have their armor on at all times. If somepony takes their helmet off detain them and hold them for questioning.” Ponies began rushing around, marking things on notepads and issuing orders to each other.
Wild watched the organized chaos around him, wracking his brain for something on the tip of his tongue. He watched as a mare tripped over a stallion’s tale and fell, dropping her papers into a small pile. The stallion stopped what he was doing to help the mare up and collect her papers in his magic, tapping them into a neat stack and floating them to her. He noticed the light blush and the way her eyes darted from side to side as the stallion helped her up, and the sheepish way they conversed with each other.
“But that’s all useless.” Wild was talking more to himself than the ponies around him, realizing that the information he’d just passed on to those in charge could be misinterpreted, but General Green Island noticed his mouth move, at the very least.
“What was that, Strikes?” he asked, stopping all motion in the room as eyes were on Wild again.
“Uh…” he looked around, brought back into the moment and out of his thoughts. “Well, what if there was a pony who’s coat and mane color just happened to be the same as their enchantment?” he mused to the table in front of him. “Or maybe there’s a thestral guard who has damaged hearing? They could be wrongly imprisoned, or worse.” He looked up at General Green Island, making direct, confident eye contact. “The best way to spot a changeling is through mannerisms.”
More glances were exchanged between those at the table. The General furrowed his brow again, but maintained his eye contact. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“Well, when I found ‘Moon’ in that room, he said he covered the changelings he killed with a blanket because he couldn’t stand the looks of their buggy faces. I know Moon to love the kill and the sight of a dead body, whatever species or race it was. He also begged me for his life. I know that Moon would never stoop to that. If I thought he was a changeling, he would sit there and take it until I was either sure he wasn’t or he died.” The rest of the ponies still seemed confused, but the General’s eyes lit in understanding.
“Alpha Roster!” the General called to a scrawny mare with saddlebags full of scrolls with names on them. “Reassign the troops based on those closest to them—anypony who can confirm that another pony is who they claim to be will be put in a squad.” As he spoke Alpha Roster took down notes, already marking names off lists and writing them on others.
As the room fell back into controlled commotion Wild felt he’d relayed all the information he’d needed to. He gave a quick solute before turning on his hooves and making his way to the door.
The door closed, plunging the hallway into an eerie silence. It unsettled Wild, so he made his way back to the infirmary—where Hazel, Camellia and Dahlia currently were. Lines of guards and injured ponies being carried back and forth from the gate interrupted his trek every so often. Wild tried not to look at the blood covered ponies and the worried looks on the faces of those on their way to their probably death. It hit home the way nothing ever should for a pony.
Before he knew it, Wild stood at the entrance to the infirmary. He stood in front of the door, letting the entire situation wash over him once more, attempting to relax for once in the past two days.
“Out of the way!” interrupted his thoughts as two ponies carrying a badly injured stallion nearly ran into him.
Wild had enough warning to jump forward, pulling the door open and allowing the three of them into the room of healing before him. He walked in behind them after they passed. He looked over the masses of ponies as they groaned and squirmed under the watchful eyes of the doctors, nurses, and medics.
Wild glanced over at the well-off ponies—those that didn’t have any dangerous wounds. He noticed Camellia Bloom and her daughter, Dahlia, talking with a stallion and his young colt. A gentle smile graced Wild’s lips as he thought about the two precious lives he and his comrades had saved. The lives most of his squad had given their own for.
Just before depression could take hold of him, Dahlia looked up at him. They made solid eye contact before she recognized him and began making her way to him.
“Wild!” she shouted as she clung to his forehoof. “You’re back!”
He looked around, pleading for those around him to help with the filly now clamped firmly to his foreleg.
He got none. Not even Hazel, who’d looked up to realize Wild was back, moved from his place besides a pony covered in bandages to help the poor stallion.
“Dahlia, it’s nice to see you, too.” He shook his hoof a little, but she didn’t let go.
At least, not at first. Her eyes widened in realization and she looked up to him with excitement in her smile. “You have to meet this colt I met! I told him how you beat up that mean changellingerey and he said he didn’t believe me!” she said as she let go and started swinging at the air with her sound effects. “Tell him how you beat it up with a pow! And a kablam! And whoosh!” She stopped portraying his fight with the changeling and ran back to the colt. “C’mon!”
Wild sighed, allowing the innocence of the little filly wash over him, cleansing him of adult responsibility for a moment. He could use a few minutes to just relax and unwind.
With a much calmer gait, he followed Dahlia back to the group of less injured ponies. Most of the foals had gathered around her as she began, listening to the recount of Wild’s epic Kung Hoof skills and his animated fight with the monster that could take the face of anypony and everypony.
If Wild was being perfectly honest, he actually enjoyed the retelling, even if it was grossly exaggerated and blown out of proportion. He didn’t remember the shadow magic the changeling had used, or the roundhouse kick he’d used to dispel it, but it was an entertaining story.
“And then…” the filly paused for dramatic effect, looking to the many faces that surrounded her, all balancing on the tips of their hooves. “He let it live,” she said kindly.
“WHAT?!” all the foals burst out in unison.
“Yes. He let it live—because that is what a true hero would do. Killing is wrong in all situations.” She winked at the crowd playfully.
“Did you really?” a colt asked, a hopeful look in his eye.
Wild took a step back as all the eyes shifted to him—even some of the adults had looked over to focus the stallion’s response. Wild didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell them that he only spared its life because Dahlia was bearing witness, and he definitely couldn’t tell them about the other changeling that he’d bashed to death with a lamp while it laid helpless under a dresser. He looked to each of the little faces that watched him intently, realizing he was actually more nervous than when the table of high-ranking Generals were staring at him.
“Ahem…” he cleared his throat as he tried to think of something to say. “Well… I didn’t kill it, no.”
Wild was startled as the group moaned in disappointment. He then looked over the group of young, impressionable ponies before him, an idea forming in his head.
“Do you know why we’re called ‘guards’ and not ‘soldiers?’” he asked the foals.
Dissapointment was replaced by confusion. Apparently they’d never really thought of it. Wild couldn’t blame them—he didn’t think about it, either; until his Commanding Officer in Hoof Camp explained it to him when he’d been particularly vicious to a sparring dummy… and a sparring partner… and the ponies he picked fights with who complained about the training program and talked about the trainers behind their backs.
“Well, a soldier goes off to war, to fight and kill for their country. We are guards, who defend, protect, and serve the ponies of Equestria. We are taught to kill only when it’s necessary, and to never take a life if we don’t have to. That changeling was out cold and wouldn’t be getting up until we were long gone.”
Wild took a proud stance, showing off his chest armor to the colts and fillies. “That is what the guard stands for—peace and harmony. Not killing and violence.” He reached over a couple heads and patted Dahlia’s head. “That’s why I am a guard.”
“You’re still awesome in my book,” she chuckled.
“If you say so.” Wild looked over to Hazel, who was still tending to injured ponies. “Now, if you all will excuse me, I must be off to save Equestria once again with my Kung Hoof training and incredible fighting ability.” He was joking—and it was obvious—but some of the foals looked to him in awe as he walked away.
Hazel looked up to Wild as he approached. He moved his stethoscope to his neck and gave Wild a soft nod. “Wild, it’s good to see you again.” His voice was as soft as ever.
“And you, Hazel. What’s the situation here?” Wild asked, looking at the several ponies who had arrived while he was gone.
“The staff here have it under control, but every helping hoof is appreciated, and this is where I’m most useful.” Hazel followed his gaze. “But they just keep flooding in.... Much more of this and we’ll have to start using other rooms, and then we’ll really need extra hooves…” his voice became somber and he trailed off as he turned back to Wild.
“Alright, you stay here and help in any way you can. I’m going back to the gate.” Wild turned to walk away before a hoof on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.
Following the hoof back to its owner, he found Hazel looking concerned.
“Be safe, Wild,” was all he said, his worry echoed in his voice.
“You, too.” And, with a quick nod from both, Hazel returned to his patients as Wild walked to the infirmary’s door.
As Wild approached the gate, the ponies not currently watching for approaching refugees and enemies turned to him and saluted. Confused, he walked up to one of the guards—one whom he passed not half an hour ago, on his way in. The guard seemed to become nervous as Wild got closer, nearly shaking in his boots when Wild was only a few paces away.
“What’s with the solute?” Wild asked, showing his confusion.
“Th-they didn’t tell you?” he asked, relaxing a little bit as he was confused, as well.
“Didn’t tell me what?” Now slightly suspicious, Wild prepared himself for some sort of news.
“Since you are the current expert on changeling activity, you’ve been given a field promotion to the rank of Captain. You’re now a Captain of the royal guard, sir.”
Wild let this new information settle in his mind before turning back to the pony he’d spoken to. He examined his face for something—anything—that would tell him otherwise, but didn’t find anything.
“At ease,” he said simply before walking up the staircase to the gate, where two guards were watching over the road that lead up the hill to the palace grounds. “Report.”
One of the stallions turned on his hooves, giving Wild a swift solute, and began talking in a firm voice.
“Nothing since you arrived, sir.” The pony kept his rigid posture while Wild kept watching him.
“What about before. Anything of note in the last two days?” Wild looked over the ledge that gave them all a little protection from any incoming ranged attacks.
“Yesterday; seven attempts on the gate, all driven back. Two attempts to infiltrate our ranks discovered and executed. Battle continued in the city, drawing ponies back to the palace in search of safe haven.” The guard took a breath before continuing. “Today; three attempts on the gate, both driven back. One attempt to infiltrate our ranks discovered and executed. Battle continued in the city until approximately seventeen-hundred hours. Ponies have been arriving at a slower rate. You and your party arrived at eighteen-thirty hours.”
“Thank you,” Wild said simply, allowing the stallion to return to his duties.
Wild looked out over the city below one last time, forcing himself to look down at the ruined houses and businesses. He made sure he knew exactly what he was fighting for. Wild was about to turn around and head back inside when a scream reached his ears. His head whipped around to find a guard in the courtyard had fallen on his flank as he stared up into the sky. Wild followed his eyes and froze up.
A gargantuan cloud of ominous black was floating in from the south. It flowed about like a flock of birds; waving and flowing, but never breaking shape or formation. Wild strained his eyes to see exactly this cloud was made up of, even though the pit in his stomach told him exactly what it was made of.
Changelings.
Wild jumped from the top of the gate, landing on the dirt path that bisected the courtyard, and made a mad dash for the castle’s front doors. A quick glance told him the mass of chitin and fangs was heading straight for the walls of the castle. He watched in horror as it impacted one of the tallest towers, toppling it with little to no effort.
Wild didn’t waste time with the latch of the front door, in favor of his shoulder and the momentum he’d built up over the yard. He burst through, startling a guard on the other side. He didn’t have time to stop and explain the situation. Wild sidestepped the stallion, racing back to the room all the high-ranking generals had been.
Once again, door handles were a waste of time, and when Wild burst through the beautifully crafted wood, all chaos stopped.
“We have to go; the changelings are attacking the castle.” Wild panted.
“And with that, they’ve dug our graves…” General Green Island remarked.
Panic ensued. Generals, officers, and guards ran in every direction. There was no longer order, only chaos. Wild tried to get somepony’s—anypony’s—attention. None present were willing to listen.
Just then, a scream echoed from the hallway, and ended in a gurgle. Several ponies went to investigate, including Wild, who was the closest to the doorway. There, in the hallway, plain as day, a changeling stood over the corpse of a guard who was missing a good piece of his neck. Wild saw his esophagus as his blood flowed freely from the wound. The changeling hissed at the group of ponies, causing them to run away screaming.
Wild wasn’t having any of it. He galloped forward, giving the changeling a solid buck to the chest that sent it flying down the hall and skidding to a halt. Wild watched it for a moment to make sure it wouldn’t get back up, and when it didn’t, he began running to the other important room.
The infirmary.
Hazel had his hooves full with all the patients that had been moved to the dining room over the past two days. He didn’t need a full-frontal assault to top it all off. It was really peeving him, though he would never use that word in any polite company—or any company at all.
Wild burst through the door, skidding to a stop as he scanned the room. His eyes locked with Hazel’s after a moment and he shouted to him.
“Changelings are attacking the castle, we have to leave,” Wild told him.
“But all of my patients!” Hazel began to argue, but Wild shook his head.
“It’s regrettable, but we can’t move them all and if we stay and fight there won’t be anypony left to continue the fight.” Wild was about to say something else as a window shattered, letting a changeling into the room.
It landed on a helpless patient, ripping his throat out before he even had a moment to scream. Wild jumped forward, tackling the changeling to the ground and punching it into submission. He stood again, watching the body in case it moved again as he shouted to the rest of the room.
“Anypony who’s able to move, get ready to leave!” he shouted, then stomped the changeling’s neck in for good measure.
“I told you he knew Kung Hoof!” came a small shout from the corner.
Wild looked over to the group of civilians who were relatively okay. “That means all of you. We’re leaving.”
The group of ponies, along with some doctors and nurses, made their way to the door.
“Wait, are you leaving?” asked a shaky voice from one of the tables that had been turned into a bed. “Please don’t leave us here! Please! Don’t lea-” His cries of fear were cut short as another changeling flew through the now-open window and landed on him, taking a bite out of his barrel.
Screams of agony followed them down the hall as the Wild lead them deeper into the castle. Along the way, they met with a few other groups of guards and, together, they all funneled into one of the large spires that had held strong. Wild motioned them up the staircase as he watched the hallway for changelings. Once the last pony began her ascent he slammed the doors shut and slammed the lock into place. He took a breath before starting his own climb.
About half way up the average ponies began to tire. The entire group slowed down to compensate. Wild pushed and nudged his way to the front to meet up with Hazel.
“What happened?” Hazel asked as he continued his slow trot up the stairs.
“A large changeling force hit Canterlot Palace hard. They knocked over the South Tower before beginning their assault on the other facilities.” Wild looked behind him, counting who was left.
“What do we do? Is there any way out?” Hazel began to hyperventilate, breathing much faster than he should have, even after climbing this many stairs.
“Not that I know of. At this point, we try to get somewhere safe.” Wild looked up the staircase, the door to the watchtower finally coming into view. He jumped the last few flights three steps at a time, and pulled the door open. “Alright, everypony in!” he shouted, motioning with a hoof for the group to file into the high, overlooking room.
Wild went to a window, doing his best to stay hidden from the enemy. He looked down at the courtyard, where an epic clash between pony and changeling was taking place. He looked a little further and noticed that the city of Canterlot was active once more, magic flying and fights in the streets covered the city. There was more of the guard left than he’d originally thought.
It didn’t look like it would stay that way, though. The guard was losing ground fast. The courtyard was already swarmed with changelings, and the city didn’t seem much better off. This battle wouldn’t last much longer.
“Hazel!” Wild called out behind him. “Hazel, where are you?” He kept his eyes down below as he called out.
“Right here,” Hazel said, standing next to him. “What’s the plan?”
“Do you remember that spell that make a pony’s voice really, really loud?” Wild asked, still looking down on the battle field.
“Uh, yeah.” Hazel seemed utterly puzzled by the question. “But wouldn’t that draw a lot of attention?”
“That’s the other thing.” Wild looked back to the group of civilians. “I need you to take them somewhere safe. Maybe the dungeons.”
“Wait, you’re not-” Hazel started, but was cut off as Wild put his hoof over the medic’s muzzle.
“I need you to do this for me.” A small smirk grew on his face. “I can make it an order, if I have to. I’m a Captain, now!” Wild said proudly.
Hazel groaned and rolled his eyes. “Aye, aye, Cap’n’.” There was a hint of play in Hazel’s voice.
“Hey! We said that was only for Captain Main Mast!” Wild joked as he imitated the seafaring captain, closing one eye, and throwing on a terrible accent. “I’ll have ye washin’ the poop deck, next thing ye know!”
“Yeah, yeah! I know,” Hazel said, chuckling.
The laughter died down quickly and the tension returned. Hazel looked into his friend’s eyes, tears coming to his own. He held it together for only a little bit longer before he lunged forward, pulling Wild into a deep hug.
“I need you to do this one last thing for me, Hazy.... If you do this, I’ll forever be in your debt,” Wild whispered calmly and kindly into his ear.
“Yeah… for-forever and ever.” Hazel was crying into Wild’s shoulder.
Wild patted Hazels back for a moment longer before pushing him back and looking him in the eye. Returning to his one-eyed, terrible-accented mockery of their sailing instructor, he spoke.
“Walk away, me boy. By mornin’ ye’ll be free,” he said with a soft smile.
Hazel chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes again. He took a deep breath to calm himself and lit his horn, casting the spell on Wild that would increase the volume of his voice enough to reach the city.
“Thank you, my friend,” Wild mouthed.
With a simple nod, Hazel turned around to start gathering the other ponies to start their descent.
“But we just climbed all those stairs!” came a familiar whine.
Wild turned around to see Dahlia looking up at Hazel with frustration. He trotted over to the filly, motioning for Hazel to cancel the spell, which was indicated by a fizzle of magic and the taste of sugar in the back of his throat. He looked down at Dahlia with a smile.
“Dahlia,” he started, making the small pony whip her head around to see Wild standing behind her. “You need to go with the others.”
“But I wanna stay with you!” Wild thought the constant drills and monotony of guard duty was annoying, but he would gladly go through a thousand years of guard duty and drills before he’d want to listen to the whine of a young filly.
“It’s…” he tried to stop the ringing in his ear, “it’s not safe here. You need to go with your mother and Hazel Blossom.”
“But you can keep me safe, Wild!” she whined again, though this time softly. “I wanna stay here. I don’t wanna go.”
“I know, but I have a job to do, and I can’t protect you and do my job at the same time. Hazel will protect you just like I would; won’t you, Hazel?” Wild and Dahlia looked up at the soft-spoken unicorn.
“With my life, if I must,” he said simply, crossing his hoof over his heart in the symbolism of a promise.
“See?” Dahlia looked back to Wild. “Hazel will do everything in his power to keep you safe, just like I would.”
“But…” Dahlia began to tear up as she spoke. “But I wanna be with you.” Her gaze drifted to the floor as she began to sob.
“Hey, hey! Don’t cry!” Wild put his hoof under her chin and lifted it up so he could look her in the eye with a heartfelt smile. “I’ll always be with you, right…” he poked her chest, “here.”
Dahlia looked down at her chest as Wild removed his hoof, staring at the small tuft of fur that had been pushed up right where her heart was. She quickly looked up to Wild.
“You mean it?” she asked, hope in her eyes and voice.
“Of course.”
The filly ran forward, gripping the stallion in a tight hug and stuffing her face into his chest plate. She sobbed, the tears streaking down her face and some finding its way onto the golden metal.
“Promise you’ll come back to me,” she begged.
“I’ll try my absolute hardest, Dahlia. I promise,” he said as he stroked her mane. “But, for now, you need to go with your mother and Hazel.” He nudged her away, smiling down to her.
“Okay,” was all she could say as she slowly walked over to her mother.
Wild nodded to Hazel, who recasted the amplification spell, and then walked back out onto the balcony, preparing his thoughts once more.
Dahlia stole one last glance of Wild Strikes before she was ushered into the staircase.
Canterlot Castle was nearly overrun, the city below was being demolished and flooded by the changeling threat, possibly all of Equestria was being attacked; and, atop it all, stood Wild Strikes. He looked down on his suffering kingdom and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth and shouted for all to hear.
“Hear me, Canterlot!!!” boomed through the palace and city alike.
To the omniscient onlooker, all fighting ceased, and all attention was locked on this single earth pony that decided it was his place to address the battlefield and its combatants.
If the group of generals and foals from before cause Wild to be nervous, this was wracking him to his very core and beyond—but his body and mind held a steady cool as he continued.
“I speak to my friends and allies when I say all does not bode well for ponykind,” Wild started, a solemn softness to his voice as he spoke. “Changelings have invaded our city, destroyed our homes and businesses, and this battle will continue to affect us long after it’s over—if we survive.”
Hazel Blossom, Camelia Bloom, and Dahlia rushed down the stairs, reaching the ground floor, and flinging the latch to the door open. Two steps out of the door and the group found itself surrounded by changelings. The guards of the group took up a perimeter around the civilians and began fighting for their lives.
“But that’s just the thing: we will survive. Hope permeated this statement, filling those who listened to it with the feeling of power and ability. “I know this, because I’ve seen it over the past five days. Through great sacrifice and incredible odds, we’ve been able to defend ourselves and each other against this horrible enemy!”
The guards in the courtyard, at one point disorganized and panicked, began coordinating attacks. A sloppy formation was made and the tables began to turn. The changeling hoard, which once overwhelmed the ponies with sheer numbers, was not being beaten back with technique and skill.
“Just as night becomes day, brought about by Princess Celestia; and as sure as day will once again become night, which Princess Luna performs beautifully; we will win this fight.” Determination and pride filled his voice as he brought the two great leaders to the forefront of their subject’s minds. “We must protect Canterlot and Equestria, not only for us, but for them!”
Right about here some changeling drones located the source of the voice that was singlehoofedly turning the tide. They communicated a brief plan with chitters and chirps, with a hiss or two mixed in, and began to ascend the exterior of the tower. They moved faster than any creature should move on a smooth, vertical surface.
“They try to frighten us with hisses and fangs, they try to scare us into distrusting each other with their disguises, they try to intimidate us with piles of our dead outside our gates!” His voice was filled with fury as he announced this to those below. “Well, I’m not afraid. If anything, I’m angry.”
As he finished speaking three changelings crested the ledge that lead to the open sky. They pulled themselves up to the railing and got ready to pounce. They didn’t get very far, though. While Wild Strikes was no Kung Hoof master, he knew how to handle himself in a fight, even in bad odds.
The first approached, its first move being a quick hoof strike, which Wild ducked under, pulling the changeling over his shoulder and reaching his other hoof up to break its left wing. A demonic screech filled the room as Wild flung the body over the ledge and to the creature’s death.
The second took his approach much slower than the first, being sure to keep its wings folded flat. Wild took the advantage of the first strike, socking it right in the snout and dazing it. It recovered quickly, though, and returned with a full buck, which caught Wild in the side, sending him to his side. He coughed, sending the sound through all Canterlot and worrying those below.
Wild got to his hooves again, standing ready to take on the pair of monsters before him. He didn’t hesitate to return the buck, full force, to the second changeling, sending it into the railing and breaking that portion of the finely crafted wood along with its spine. His rage-filled gaze then moved to the other changeling, who lunged for the pony’s throat and the kill-bite. Wild extended his legs, bringing the bite much lower than it needed to be, and grabbed the changeling’s head in both hooves. A quick twist later, and all that remained was a corpse.
“They dug our graves with their attack, but when you attack ponykind you don’t just attack one of us, you attack all of us.” His voice returned as strong as ever, renewing the vigor of everypony on the mountain. “We rise from the ranks to take up the mantle of our fallen and continue the fight!”
More changelings located the location of the voice and changed from their original course to head towards it. Some changelings even left the courtyard battle to chase down the voice, giving the guards on the ground a major advantage. Wild watched as clouds of his enemy began gathering in the sky and began to grow closer.
“That is how the dead rise again! If we fall here, the rest of Equestria will rise to avenge us!” Wild’s voice was full of pride—pride for his country, pride for ponykind, pride for those lives given before his. His mind drifted back to his fallen comrades, Star Chaser, Soaring Surfer, Moonlight Hunter, Thunder Haze, and Rapid Charge. He thought about all the time he had spent with them, all the laughs they had shared, all the good times, all the bad times, and all the times in-between. He kept them in his memory as he looked out to the mass of black that was closing in on him.
Wild Strike’s voice became very calm as he prepared to end the speech and let events unfold as they will.
“So, Canterlot…,” he began, “you can walk away now—flee the city and never return, leaving it and all that you’ve made and fought for so far, here—and you’ll surely be safe by morning, away in the forest or in Ponyville; or you can wipe your tears for your fallen friends, family, and comrades; take up your weapons to fight back these savage invaders; and raise what’s left of the flag for me.”
All of Canterlot joined in a cheer, thrusting their polearms and swords into the sky as they redoubled, and redoubled again, their efforts to push back the changeling attack. Ponies everywhere used whatever they could find to fight back against the invading forces, some of them simply using chairs and planks of wood. The roads were paved green with changeling blood and the invasion was pushed back that night.
Hazel Blossom succeeded in leading the group of civilians to the dungeons, where he locked them away and went off to distract the pursuing changelings. When he was captured, the drones questioned him as to where the ponies he was with went. He wouldn’t tell, and was later found decapitated by the changeling forces.
The north tower, which had been called the watchtower since the renovations that made the top room an observation room, was toppled by a giant changeling wave. There were no survivors in the remaining rubble, and not much to identify the bodies by.
The total fatalities once the conflict was over seventy percent of Canterlot’s population. More than half of the survivors had major injuries, and the remaining half couldn’t be called “well” in any capacity. The city, the castle, the heart of the Equestrian nation, was in ruins.
But, when the sun rose over the horizon the next day, Equestria’s flag flew proudly.
“We commemorate this statue to the many ponies that lost their lives in the devastating changeling attack last year.”
Celestia stood before a giant statue of seven ponies—two earth ponies, two unicorns, two pegasus, and a thestral. They stood in a line, standing tall and proud, ten paces before a wall with all the names of the ponies who lost their lives in the fierce battle.
As the Princess of the Sun spoke on about bravery and sadness, the other three two princesses at her side, the crowd listened intently. Though, of the hundreds of thousands of ponies present, there was one that wasn’t listening at all.
A young filly squeezed her way through the crowd, trying to get to the very front of the group to get a good look at the statue of her heroes, while her mother attempted to follow as quickly as she could. The filly bumped into pony after pony trying to get through the crowd, apologizing for any and all contact she made, which came out as a constant stream of apology.
Sooner than she expected, she broke surfaced on the edge of the crowd, and was greeted by Celestia speaking about the amazing reconstruction efforts of all her ponies from far and wide—but she didn’t care about that. She looked up to the statue of the earth pony stallion. A huge grin spread across her face as her hoof rose to meet her chest, just over where her heart was.
