Casca's Glory

Dark was frowning, looking over the sketch the scout had provided.

The lake was clear of grass for about twenty feet. Counting the zebra settlement, that bubble was more like fifty feet in some spots, at least ten feet from any building.

The buildings formed a kind of soft wall, and the entrance, where they anticipated the lions to come from, was on the south west side of the settlement, bordering the lake. Another one was on the north, and of course, the entire eastern ‘wall’ would do very little to stop something like a lion.

Wooden stakes had been set, but even then…

The question became ‘where are the lions’, followed briefly by ‘how smart are they?’

Even without wings, Dark could see about four or five different ways a group of ten could attack the camp. Up that to twenty, and ambush was easily possible as well. From any angle.

Add the fact that one apparently could burn hotter than any fire and would be trying to use fire and smoke to blind everypony…

He groaned as he tried to think of anticipation, of the best way to distribute troops to best counter any possible lion attack.

He was so consumed in thought that he didn’t even notice Princess Luna walking to him until she looked at the map and huffed.

“Princess!” he yelped in minor shock, saluting hurriedly. “I didn’t,”

“They will not go near the lake, so we shall ignore it.” Luna stated, interrupting him. “Lions are honorable; if they strike, they shall do so by the front. We shall have half of us in the center, flying high. Once the flames begin, they shalt do little more than attempt to control the fires, and prevent the smoke from blinding us. Only the strongest flyers shall be given this task."

Dark blinked. “…Honorable?” he asked.

Luna nodded. “A lion must show strength to its fellows, or be considered a weakling and a coward. They wouldst not dare to strike anyplace but where we may see them coming. This is an attack, not a hunt.”

Dark was silent for a moment. Then, with some awe in his tone said, “Every day, you seem to surpass yourself Princess. One glance, and you know the best way. You already have knowledge of the lions as well.”

Luna gave the faintest ghost of a smile. “We were speaking with the zebra. They know the lion well. Tis not just ourselves with this.”

“Even that shows wisdom, my princess. In the night, we are not the arrogance of the sun, but the wisdom of the moon. We learn, and strive to be better. A battle is not won until it is won you always said.”

“…This is why thou art my captain.” Luna whispered, not truly loud enough for Dark to hear her. “See it done. We have an hour until moonrise still, and hours more before the true night. If thou art to see anything more to be done, see it done.”

Luna flapped, and took to the air once again, and Dark watched her go. Even at his earliest meeting, he always did prefer the younger sister. In the light, under Celestia’s sun, ponies judged, and little could be hidden in the bright, sometimes even harsh, light of the sun. But the moon’s light was softer, kinder. Guiding in the darkness, and not judging, or caring one race from another.

Everything lived under the moon’s gentle sight as far as Dark was concerned. The Princess of the moon, protector of dreams, first and most able guardian of Equestria was far, far better than the magnificent Celestia.

He smiled, and went to work, ordering ponies into position as fast as he could.

He wanted to get back to Zehara. To speak with her again, yes, but also just to see her again.

Zehara almost yelled when Dark entered again, suddenly and without much warning. But mostly because he came from the balcony, and not the door.

She saw him, opened her mouth and stopped.

As he landed, for just a moment, his wings spread to their fullest, the light of sunset glinting on his armor and shimmering on his fur. For an instant, he was… was like some descending,

She shook it off, blushing faintly.

“I’m back!” he said, a touch tired. “Sorry it took so long.” he added, walking over to her again.

Zehara spent a moment gathering herself before responding, “You seem to have accomplished that rather quickly.”

Dark flopped onto the pillows and smiled. “Princess Luna helped out. It’s all ready now. Now, we just have to wait.”

She carefully lowered herself onto the pillows, noticing Dark’s… familiarity. He had started stiff and formal. And now, rather suddenly it seemed, he was perfectly at home, relaxing on her pillows on his back, wings spread on the floor and pillows nearby.

She found she very much enjoyed seeing him like that. Seeing him so peaceful.

“…You seem renewed.” she mentioned.

“Yeah?” he asked, and she barely bit back her grin at his smile as he looked at her, upside down. “I feel… a lot more prepared for this lion attack now. That might be it.”

“…It seem a touch strange to hear a tale with the teller being the wrong side up.” she said, and grinned faintly.

Dark rolled upright, shaking himself, as if he suddenly recalled where he was.

“Oh, right, sorry.” he said, almost embarrassed. “Story, ponies, Equestria, got it.” He spent a moment pondering, and then nodded.

“You know about Equestria and ponies, right?”

“I do. At least in some part. Why not begin with your goddess?”

“Princess Luna isn’t a goddess. Neither is her sister, Princess Celestia; they are alicorns.”

Zehara gave him a look. “…Are they powerful, more so than any other?”

“…Yes.”

“Are they wise, possibly more so than any other?”

“Yes…”

“Can they die?”

Dark hesitated. “…I… don’t think so…”

“Then how are these princesses different from gods?”

“…I know if I called Princess Luna a goddess, she might get mad at me. And Princess Celestia is very firm on that. They are not goddess.”

Zehara only looked mildly confused. “I do not fully understand.”

“Well, thinking about it, neither do I.” he told her. “They just don’t like being called that. Princess, and not queen, or anything else. Just princess.”

“…Were they with ponies always?”

“…Yes and no. There was a time without them, but I don’t think anypony wrote down a date someplace that says ‘twin alicorns come from someplace to help everypony or anything like that. They just… are.”

“…What time came before them?” Zehara asked, trying to understand. It made very little sense to her that the twin alicorns could just be, particularly if there was a time without them. Surely somepony wrote of the time when they appeared, right? Such an event could not have just passed by without at least one pony finding it important enough to note, right?

“We call that ‘the time of separation’. It goes a little like this:”

“A very long time ago, there were pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies. And they lived together, kind of, until this really bad winter came, and they blamed each other for it. So they all went on this long journey to find a new home, and ran into each other, and something or another happened and winter stopped and peace was had.”

Zehara just stared at him for a while.

“…Alright, I stink at storytelling. Come on, I hear it once per year and don’t particularly care for hearing the history of hearth’s warming. I got the general message across, right?”

“…Only if ponies like to blame each other for random chance.”

“I meant a magical winter.”

“Then why not blame the magical unicorns?”

“Because… because unicorns couldn’t do anything about it, so they blamed the pegasi.”

“And the rest? Earth ponies?”

“…Maybe pegasi and unicorns blamed them for… not growing crops under three feet of snow? I don’t know.”

“… What of the time after, with the princesses? The earliest as you can.”

“The earliest time with the twin princesses is called ‘the time of strife’. Ponies had lots of problems, and they solved most of them, leading to ‘the golden age’. And that leads to today.”

“… Perhaps… perhaps this will be more understandable if I were to ask something not historical.”

“…Maybe. I did flunk history.”

“Tell me of these ‘princesses’. How do they influence the lives of ponies?”

“…Princess Luna is the alicorn of the moon, and her twin sister, Princess Celestia, is the alicorn of the sun. Both rule ponies; the last word on government and more.”

“More. What of Celestia?”

“Princess Celestia.” Dark corrected. “She commands the sun in its path, and is the elder sister, but not by much. She is a white alicorn, standing about as tall as Princess Luna, and she has this… shining grace to her. Like nothing can mar her.”

“Commands the sun…” Zehara whispered, thoughtful. “…Truly?”

“Yes. She even has this whole ceremony, once per year, where she does it in front of a huge crowd. It’s really amazing.”

“…And Princess Luna?”

“She commands the moon. You’ve seen her; she’s… perfect. Like her sister, but Luna is welcoming. Braver than her sister, more willing to go rushing to defeat some beast or another. Like now. And she even protects dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“She spends the whole night looking over sleeping ponies, keeping them safe from nightmares and the like. Assuring a peaceful sleep over all of Equestria.”

“…It almost seems impossible.”

“What does?”

“Twin gods… princesses. One of the moon and of night, and the other of sun and day… I would have thought that they would be at odds with one another. One trying to overcome her own sister, not working together.”

Dark snorted. “The idea of them fighting is ridiculous. They’re family, and day and night are interchangeable.”

“…Are they? Can one say the sun in the same as the moon? The sun never changes, but the moon grows and shrinks. The night is the time of the predator. Lions hunt at night, and the jungle grows deadly during the darkness. Daylight is when we see, when it is safe to travel beyond the boundaries of the firelight.”

“…Well, they are. The moon never frightens anything. Everything can live under moonlight.”

“Some, many, would say the sun protects us.”

“But the moon cares.” Dark near snapped, and Zehara blinked.

“The sun shines, and it doesn’t care. Princess Celestia has never saved a life, and Princess Luna is always rushing to defend ponies. She doesn’t care what she saves. Her moonlight guides us in darkness, and pierces what is truly dark in ways the sun can never hope to do.”

Zehara was silent, Dark huffing, a little angry.

“…It doesn’t matter.” he said.

“No, it does.” she said. “It matters to you. Princess Luna is precious, and more precious in your eyes. I can see the… the loyalty you have for her. I imagine that few ponies prefer the moon to the sun. The night is dark and frightening; as is what lives within it. Like a batpony.”

Dark paused, staring at her.

“Many fear the night, but who fears the day? The sun warms us, lets us see, keeps the dangers hidden away in their lairs. The night is dark, we cannot see, and monster and beast and predator come forth to prey. The things that live in the night are not well known, or cared for. Any good is hidden in darkness, and the evil is all too apparent…”

They both were silent, Dark troubled, and Zehara understanding.

Dark tried to ignore it, but Zehara was right. Most ponies preferred the day.

Some even feared Princess Luna. They did not see the kindness, or the care.

They only saw a nightmare in the darkness. They cowered in front of Luna, seeing her as the incarnation of the night, and all its terrors.

That fear was silent, almost unnoticed. But it was what drove the fear of batponies, able to see in the dark, not like normal pegasi, and preferring a nocturnal life. They were too similar to bad things.

Zehara got up and moved nearer to Dark, settling down at his side. She sighed faintly, looking at his troubled face. That trouble didn’t see like something she could help with. It was deeper, darker than most.

She found it upset her, seeing him upset.

She leaned against him, and felt him flinch just a little before leaning back, almost on instinct.

“It hurts you.” she murmured, and he huffed.

“…It’s stupid. They’re all blind and stupid.”

“Fear easily spreads. One is afraid, and the rest fear with it. That is true, even with zebra. An entire group can learn to avoid a good place of food for the fear of a single spider.”

“She even saves them in their dreams…”

“She appears in the darkest fears. So many dreams to save, and so little time to calm a terrified pony. They are left with the remnants of fear, and her image.”

“It’s just stupid.” he muttered, leaning against her a little more.

“It is life. It is how we think, how we feel. The darkness hides our death our minds proclaim. A time to sleep and hope that our fears be proven false. We are not there to see the moon slay the monster, nor her subjects aiding her. We are hiding away, trembling for the fear of the dark and the monsters we are so sure hide within it.”

Dark didn’t respond.

“…If it is to help… I always enjoyed the night.”

“What?” Dark said, his voice a touch strained.

“I enjoy the nighttime, and the moon above. I feel safer under the cloak of shadows than in the bright of day.”

“…Why?”

“Recover first. Eat some fruit, have a drink. You are troubled greatly, and now is not the time for me to tell you my tale.”

Dark nodded slowly. And the pair simply laid there together, Zehara waiting, and Dark slowly calming again.

It was easy to grow calm again with her on his side.

Casca’s tale

I found three zebra by the lake. Peering from the grass, I saw them. Three males, fetching water. They were young, but grown. Secure, not truly paying attention to their surroundings.

They were talking with one another. Mostly focused on the remnants the Strength had left behind. Suggesting stupid things that might have left such a mark on the lakeside, laughing as they gathered water.

Two were near the lake, the third closer to me. I judged a distance, and readied myself, my hate pulsing in time with my heart.

A soft crackle came from near me, and they turned to see.

I leapt. Fire burned along my form, filled my vision, and I saw the zebra’s terror as I came. I hit him, ripping and biting in a frenzy of hate, tearing him apart even as he burnt away in the fire.

Then I noticed that I burned, but didn’t hurt. The fire flowed along my fur and claws, and it wasn’t hot. And instead of feeling afraid, or worried, I felt…

Satisfied.

I stood atop the burning remains of the first, and looked at the remaining two, frozen in terror.

One ran along the lake’s edge, and the other jumped into the water.

I jumped after him, and the water hissed, and my fires dimmed. I caught him under the water, and I can still recall the bloody water that we thrashed within.

I eventually dragged him out, and dried swiftly. His last breath was of my fire as I bit his throat.

I smiled, and the flames on my form dimmed. I was pleased.

Zebra would escape to zebra. And I would find even more at the end of the trail.

I ate what was left of the other two. Something to sustain myself for my hunt.

Then I followed the third. I stalked after him, often finding him exhausted, collapsed. And each time I let him recover, and keep moving. I followed him for days, my hunger growing, but I waited.

A feast not just of food awaited me.

Until, at last, he came to a large group when the sun was high in the sky. Others stared at his yells, and I stopped.

One of the zebra who ran to him limped badly. His front leg was covered in scars, and ill-suited for walking.

I knew him.

He was the zebra my brother had saved me from.

That was the group who had killed my family. My den.

As they reached him, I screamed in hate, and the fire burned ever hotter, brighter and stronger. The expression of my hate and anger.

The grass nearest to me turned to ash in an instant. The flames spread outward and I glared at the zebra ahead of me. They all stared in shock and horror.

They were nothing.

I ran forward, flames reaching forward to burn and blind, zebra screaming. I ripped and tore everything I could reach with abandon, flesh burning under my claws and teeth. But the one with the leg, I didn’t hurt. My fire didn’t burn him, and I took care not to hurt him.

Then, when the rest were dead, I grabbed him, and stared into his eyes. My hate against his terror and odd determination. He did not flinch when I forced him to see me.

I broke every one of his legs, and then ran to kill more. Leaving him as the witness as I slaughtered zebra. Males dying as I ripped their necks, females the same, wailing children cut down without a single drop of pity.

I killed their children the same way they killed ours. Often before I killed the parent, knowing I would hurt more in doing that. Every death was satisfaction that demanded more, and more. Blood spilled screaming for me to spill more.

Two escaped. Just two, two females, one older, the other younger, barely an adult. I raged from that, despite all I had done already, but I didn’t chase them. I didn’t seem to be able to muster the energy to, and instead, I returned to the one I crippled.

I found him smiling, despite the death and fires.

Seeing that… I broke the oldest tradition.

I spoke to him.

“What?” Sion whispered, shocked. “You would do such?”

“I did, and would again.” Casca said. “My hate burned within me, and his smile was too much. One lone zebra who I would kill had a secret. Would you have not done the same?”

Sion hesitated. “I… I cannot even imagine myself as you.”

“Am I changed in your eyes? Is that break of tradition too much at last?”

“…It… would be to others.” Sion said, looking to Casca, seeing her eyes watching him. “But not to me.”

“Why?”

“…The blood of my heart keeps me silent.” Sion said, taking refuge in the old way of stating deep unwillingness to speak your reasons.

Casca watched him for a moment. Seeking hints in his eyes and body.

Perhaps she saw something. Perhaps Sion wanted her to see something. Neither mentioned it if they did or had.

“What did you say?” Sion asked after a moment, breaking the silence and almost mesmerizing observation. Casca only blinked, and resumed.

“I was curious. So I asked:”

“Why are you smiling?”

He stooped smiling at my words. His eyes opening in shock, or surprise, and I saw him look at me in a new understanding.

Then he chuckled.

“You speak, thing of fire and hate?” he asked me.

“I do. Why do you smile?”

“Because it is done. It is over.”

I understood what he meant, and hissed. I set my claws upon his neck, and hated that he didn’t flinch. Not even the faintest indication of fear crossed his eyes nor his form.

“…I have not even begun to hunt.” I told him. “The sins of zebra will be washed away in their blood.”

He blinked, understanding something again. “You are of that den.” he whispered, and I paused.

“The one we killed… I knew we would pay the price someday. And here you are: the vengeance of the cycle. We broke the ways, we tried to subdue the cycle. We thought that we were more, that we could decide our fates. You were sent to teach us humility once more. You are the weapon of the cycle.”

“I am so much more!” I roared at him. “I am the death of all your kind! You lie, broken and burned under my paws, and dare to say what I am!?”

He laughed. He actually laughed, and I stopped, stunned. He stopped after a moment, and smiled at me. Smiled.

“It’s done. The sin is paid for. We paid for our pride with our lives and blood. The cycle is complete, and its lesson learned. We killed the lion. You killed us. It is done, and you have no more purpose. Look: even now you burn to ashes.”

He was right. I felt nothing, but my fires were dimming, and I was blackening. Tiny flakes of ash fell from me. My energy was dropping, I was feeling tired, worn.

“My death comes with the knowledge that it is done. I die seeing my wife and daughter live on. I die knowing the cycle is complete.”

“This is not done!” I screamed, angry, trying and failing to renew my fires. I couldn’t. “I am not done!”

“But you are.” he murmured. “So nature decrees. The cycle is done, its tools set aside. Rage, calm, suffer, bleed, it doesn’t matter anymore. It is done, and we die together.”

I sat, and stared at him for a moment. For a few seconds, I felt defeated. I looked back, and saw the deaths of my family, and, for just a moment, just one… I thought I had avenged them.

Then I denied that, and forced myself to anger. “…No. No! I won’t! Not until I see each and every last one of you dead! My home is worth more than just this! My family is worth more than just this!”

He looked at me with sad eyes. I think that… I think he somehow understood me in some way.

But as I denied my fate, I stopped burning. My fires brightened again, and I stood up, forcing death away in the fires of my hates. I saw him fear again.

“…Learn the lesson you have taught, burning lioness.” he said. “To break the cycle is to invite the wrath of nature. Such is true for us… it is also true for you. Let it end, let it finish, I beg you. For your sake, and the sake of your kind, stop now, and let it finish!”

“Let it end, before you begin a new cycle. You will bring destruction upon your kind, just as you have upon us. Will you see lion destroyed the same as we were? Surely, you have some care within you yet…”

I watched him carefully as he spoke, and saw him afraid, but it wasn't for himself. Or even of me.

He feared for me.

He saw me watching, and smiled faintly. “I might bring you peace in these final moments.” he offered. “Lion and zebra, we may lie together, and together pass to the fields beyond.”

“I… I hate you.” I told him, but I lacked the fire. Somehow, right then, I didn’t hate him. My hate was dim, weak, though I gripped the final ember with all my being still.

“I know. Stay here. Let it end, please. You do not deserve the fate you have brought to us, at least not yet. But one day, judgement shall come and nothing will stop it. Calm your heart, turn to the ashes. You will feed the land, as we will. One day, this will all be made anew, zebra shall return, and with them comes the lion. But it will not happen if you don’t let it end.”

“…I hated you. For so long, it is all I am.” I whispered, closing my eyes, seeing my reasons and causes again. They didn’t seem to matter anymore. I denied even that.

“I know that as well. But look: your hate is gone, is it not? The cycle closes, and you have a chance to stop before you begin.”

“…I will prove you wrong.”

“Our deaths show me to be right.”

“I won’t accept it. I will show mastery. Your ‘cycle’ has no hold upon me.”

“Arrogance leads to the fall…”

“I will shatter your cycle. I will deny nature, and end the zebra, I swear. I deny this end, I deny this path. I will continue.” I stated, standing tall and renewed. I had the choice, and I took it.

“…”

“No more words?” I asked, prideful, grinning. I ceased doing so with his last words.

“…The last beats of my heart are to my daughter and wife, safe far from here.” he murmured, his eyes distant. “The last trembles of my soul are given to help you see. The last thoughts of my mind are yours. And the last action will either be to sing the last song for you… Or weep as you leave to find your own judgment.”

I listened and didn’t think. I sat up, my flames burning bright. The hate within me was dead, but my fires were mine. I was no longer commanded, but I was now commanding. With his words, I had found mastery, and denied my fate.

I roared into the air, victorious, my fires burning bright and tall.

And I saw him weep. I looked upon him, and he cried, and I did not understand.

“…The burning lioness is born.” I whispered to him, and I killed him. I made it as fast as I could. I’m not truly sure why I did so, but he didn’t suffer.

With a thought, my fires doused, and I walked away without a single look back. I was sure I would win. Sure that I would be the end of zebra. Nothing could stop me, nothing would make me stop.

I would win, I swore. I would break the cycle he spoke of.

Casca fell silent then, and Sion waited.

“…If I had only listened to his words.” she whispered, looking to the ground, her voice heavy. “I would have died in peace, in satisfaction. But I was too proud.”

“And now, I go to find my death in a battle that I cannot win. Doing my all to save as many lions as I can, and leading those who follow me to their own deaths. All because I took up my dead hate, and walked onward.”

Sion watched, uncertain, unsure. Unable to find anything to say, despite a want to have something to say.

Casca looked up, and Sion almost flinched at the fear in her eyes, now undercut with sadness. Then they hardened.

“…You must tell the rest of this.” she told him. “Of the cycle. Warn them from the path I have chosen. Tell them that I die in vain, that all my works come to nothing.”

“A life of hate and fire leads to nothing more than ashes and tears.”

“…I… I will, Casca.” Sion said, a touch overwhelmed by her.

Casca nodded and looked away, toward the distant lake.

“…I never did hear their ‘last song’.” she murmured, just barely enough for Sion to hear her. “And now, I never will.”

“My life was nothing save fire and hates.”