"Ready! Heave!"

Shining strained against the harness affixed to his neck and chest, the weight of the stuck Legion wagon forcing his muscles taught. Five other ponies grunted with him, and the wagon was slowly pulled from its muddy prison - ponies working to put lengths of wood beneath its wheels to give it better traction. Mud was kicked up into Shining's visor by the legionnaire in front of him as they pulled, causing him to close his eyes, cursing. A moment later, the wagon was freed, the tension against the harness suddenly less.

A small cheer went up through the legionnaires around their group, several moving up to begin unhooking the ponies who had spent the last half-hour freeing the older piece of legionnaire equipment. Shining really had been surprised when the Legionnaire's wagons were even worse on these mud paths than the Royal Guard's had been. They were lucky if a mile went by before another wheel broke, one got stuck in the mud, or one overturned or slid off the path.

According to an overhead conversation between Captain Steel Wing and the Chief Centurion who led the Cohort, the 7th Legion's supply chains had been compromised by military politicking by the General - and so they received the dregs. The Chief Centurion had invoked the Regency as the cause of all this trouble, 'If the Princess was organizing this, none of this political nonsense would be tolerated.'

That was the first time in his entire deployment that Shining had heard a pony outside the Royal Guard even discuss Princess Celestia's... illness. Most ponies liked to pretend that nothing had changed, that the Princess was as infallible as she had always been - the idea that she might be incapacitated in any way was unthinkable. Of course, the reason for the Princess' absence had been explained officially as a period of mourning for her departed sister, Luna. It was solid as far as excuses go, apparently. The Princess had vanished for a few days at a time on occasion, but never for longer than that - and so ponies talked.

The weight of the harness was released and Shining reached a hoof up to try and rub the mud away from his visor, inadvertently smearing more across it - and pushing some through the protective shielding that kept debris from splashing into his eyes. Cursing again, Shining moved away from the wagon and toward the waiting Rarity, Shroud, and Gale, having to angle his head to see out the eye he could still open against the mud.

"Spa day, Shining?" Shroud praised, the grin visible in her ruby red eyes behind her visor, smile in her voice - even if it had an edge to it. Although Shroud didn't look at her, Shining knew it was a jab at Rarity's history.

The white unicorn Recruit looked uncomfortable in every sense of the word, as she had from the moment they started marching two days ago. He knew she hated being dirty, as she had confessed to him when telling him about her time at fashion school - a conversation that Shroud had overheard. He wasn't sure why Shroud seemed so sharp toward Rarity, but it did grate on him. The poor recruit already looked worn down from the march, with bags under her eyes, her pristine white coat now mudstained and sweaty. Her shoulders slumped beneath her legionnaire's armour.

Shining grit his teeth, already tired of Shroud's jabs - he couldn't understand why the thestral had turned annoyance to the other mare, but he wouldn't put up with it. As he opened his muzzle to rebuke her, Gale Force's calm, even voice cut in, "We're all friends here, Shroud. Besides, who was it that was asking around for -"

Shroud cut him off with an indignant hiss, the slightly lisping sound cutting off Gale - who cracked a smile of his own. The thestral huffed, looking annoyed - but not yet out of her good humour. "Oh fine, but you're going to need to get thicker leather, Recruit. If you just stand around the mares in the Legion will eat you up."

Shining watched a glean enter Rarity's eyes, and she retorted with that near-perfectly refined accent - it was hard to believe she was raised in a town like Ponyville with a voice like that. "A Lady does not lower herself to pettiness with the rabble, Corporal."

Shroud snorted, and Gale chuckled. Shroud closed her eyes in a faux imitation of nobility, turning her nose up and mimicking Rarity's accent, "Rabble? I'll have you -"

Shining cut in now, not wanting this to escalate further, "Shroud, could you help me with this helmet? My hooks are in the supply cart."

The thestral sighed, the haughtiness draining from her instantly, and moved closer as the column resumed its march. When she spoke through eyes narrowed in false annoyance, her voice was teasing and quiet enough for just the two of them to hear over the marching ponies, "You just want me to fondle you with my wings again - admit it."

Shining's part-stuttered reply was cut off when her wing brushed against the small gaps of his neck armour, all hidden by the bottom of his helm. It was a most unusual sensation, as thestrals had no feathers. Despite this, the leather was velvet soft and warm to the touch. Shining shuddered as the end of her wing ran along his neck fur. The thought of the razor-sharp blades only a slight shift away from his jugular made the sensation sharper. He swallowed thickly.

She took long, long seconds to find the correct section of helmet, a small click releasing the helmet's lock.

Shining slowed to a stop, moving to the side of the mud road and pulling his helmet off with a hoof. With his vision clear, he could see the other two had stopped with Shroud and him. Gale looked bemused, just arching an eyebrow at him. Rarity, though... He was surprised by her narrowed eyes, directed squarely at Shroud, who was giving him that smile full of desire. It made him blush, as always - even if his thoughts lingered on Rarity's look at Shroud. He couldn't understand why the two of them had grown short with one another over only two days. As far as he could tell, Rarity was very pleasant to be around, refined, beautiful, and a quick learner of spells. Shroud, meanwhile, was a bit rough around the edges, but she was kind under it all, and utterly hot. He just wished the two could reconcile and get along, it'd make marching with them easier.

He turned his focus on the splash of mud covering the front of his helmet, enchantments ensuring it didn't leak through the eyeholes. Unfortunately, those same enchantments left smears if you just wiped it off swiftly. He's sure it would be fine in most circumstances, but having to deal with it all day? It was enough to give him a headache, and to convince him to break regulations for a few minutes and take off the helmet to clean it. He snatched a rag off of a passing wagon and began wiping at the helm, clearing away the mud carefully. What he wouldn't give for some polishing cloths...

Somepony punched Shining in the neck. Hard. He stumbled to the side, almost falling over from the force of it, sudden agony flaring like an inferno - followed by numbness. Shining opened his mouth, trying to rebuke whoever had hit him, only to feel a hot, viscous liquid fill his mouth. It tasted of iron. He gurgled, trying to turn his head - looking to the horrified faces of the others. He thought he heard a scream, then an utter cacophony - but it was fading, everything was.

His heart thumped in his ears, and with every beat more and more of something wet soaked down his chest and his thoughts grew fuzzier. He craned his neck to look where he had been punched. A fresh, but numbed, sting of pain accompanied the motion - but then his mind froze, even as his heart thumped harder and harder in panic. The feathers of a bolt were poking out of his neck, blood pouring from the wound, filling his throat as it soaked his white fur scarlet red. His chest plate began to turn red, adopting the same colour as what streamed over it.

It was beautiful, he thought. Entrancing and horrifying. Why was it so interesting?

He felt himself hit the ground, not even having noticed the world tilting as he stared at his reddening chestplate. The impact didn't hurt, but suddenly there was a voice in his ears, sounding oddly distant against the background of clashing steel and roars. Shroud. "Get a medic, now! Help me apply pressure!"

How nice of them, Shining thought. Trying to help him out. Shining looked up, the movement of just his eyes felt weak and sluggish. Shroud's face was outlined in his vision, but she wasn't looking at him, her attention was to a white shape nearby. Rarity? She was screaming. Shining wished she would look at him, he didn't want to die alone.

Die? There was a jolt somewhere in his brain. He was dying, bleeding out on the ground, suffering from shock. His lungs screamed, his brain was fuzzy. He tried to remember his training, but the jolt of energy was not nearly enough - and came much too late. His gaze slid off of Shroud, and to the sky that was visible over the path.

The first stars had just begun to twinkle in the sky, the sun setting beyond the horizon. He naturally found Sirius, a sudden fit of wretching striking him as he sought to inhale past the blood. What would they tell Twilight? His parents? His sister had never written back to him, he wished he could apologize to her, he didn't want to leave.

Then his eyes found the moon as it ascended into the sky. The Mare in the Moon seemed to watch him, the radiant surface gleaming and casting the pattern of craters in shadow

Shining Armour felt an odd urge, then. Something in his bones calling to him, an instinct he had never felt before.

He lit his horn, and reached for the Moon - magic stretching toward the heavens.

His vision went dark.

Shining blinked, and he was standing upon a field of stars.

The heavens stretched around him, shrouded in soft, silvery light. Gleaming stars stretched across the sky above him in a great belt of wonder and beauty, untold millions and billions, each distinct and beautiful, shining with every colour of the rainbow. The ground underneath him was smooth, black, and reflected the belt of stars above. Around him were more lights, as if he stood at the edge of the sky itself - himself a star of white light.

His focus was pulled before him, where the moon hung half-submerged in the reflective surface he stood upon. It was larger than he had ever seen it, yet smaller than he knew it should be. It shone silver, each crater outlined - but there was no Mare but the one who stood before it.

She was tall, a flowing mane of stars flowing into the sky and becoming the glimmering lights above and around him. Her form was pale blue, but utterly lacking in any detail with the brightness of the moon just behind her. Like a pale, blue shadow with a long, slim horn of steel and wings of darkness.

Shining found it surprisingly easy to think and to be stunned by what was around him. Was he dead? Had his supposed ancestor, Princess Luna, come to guide him to be reborn?

Something in Shining's chest shuddered, making him shiver while a beat running through the stars around him dimmed every light for long seconds. When the beat subsided and the stars were once again bright, Princess Luna opened blazing silvery eyes that shone with the light of the moon that hung behind her.

She did not open her muzzle, she did not move an inch, her horn did not light. Yet still, voices came, seemingly unbidden, from around him.

His mother's voice came from the darkness around him, "Your life is -" Then his father's, "- duty, honor, sacrifice -" then his sister's carried on the words, "and then he DIED! Can you believe -" Princess Celestia's voice echoed in the darkness, "the strength of character to protect Equestria -" The pink maid's voice, so full of grief, took up the next words, "I worry about them -" a small gap before the same voice continued "- I have my ways."

Shining struggled to piece together what was being said, then another beat thudded in his chest. He shuddered, feeling a deep emptiness in his very being, a cold, numb feeling lingering in his body. The lights dimmed once more, but Princess Luna's burning gaze lost no intensity, utterly unwavering.

When the lights once more burned brightly, the voice that carried on was his own - echoing from the stars that hung nearest him, "I'm willing to - Guard - I'd happily spend the rest of my life -" His voice now echoed with words he had repeated as he was sworn-in as a member of the Royal Guard, happiness swelling in his chest at the memory, "- To defend Equestria and Her Ponies."

Finally, a new voice he had never heard came from around him, the eyes of Princess Luna blazing brighter, "Never shall a Legionnaire fight alone so long as I draw breath." It was a steely voice full of utter conviction and promise, deep and powerful, edged with determination, a razor of intent. The voice came again and again, "- Failed in my duty - There is not enough time - They will die! I will not -" The next segment of voice was screamed, the stars around him vibrating violently, "MURDERER!" Then, there came a final word that hung in the silence following the screamed words that had been so full of grief and rage, "Approach."

The beat came again, both deeper and somehow weaker - a flutter rather than the powerful waves that had come before. The lights around him barely wavered in its wake.

Shining felt icy chill begin to creep up from his hooves, crawling up his legs, then his barrel, like the slow but utterly inevitable creep of a glacier. Each passing moment left him feeling colder, emptier. He knew that if he did not move forward, if he did not approach Princess Luna, he would never leave this place.

Shining moved leaden hooves and struggled toward the deceased Warmistress. The lethargy that had claimed him up until this point had vanished with the cold, banished like the warmth of the sun. Instead, he was filled with a surge of desperation; He did not want to die. He wanted to see his sister again. His parents, Shroud, Gale, Shroud, Deep, Rarity, Feather. He steeled himself and pressed on, letting the fire that burned in his chest at their memories drive him onward.

The distance between him and Princess Luna was only a dozen meters, but it felt like miles. Each step was uneven, almost a stumble as he had to fight against the increasing weight of his own limbs. Every impact of his hooves against the reflective floor echoed in an increasing complete lack of sound - a ringing rising in his ears.

Another beat came. His chest barely shuddered, but the lights around him flickered precariously - suddenly almost going out entirely. In that brief flash of darkness, there were only the lights of Princess Luna's blazing eyes.

Shining stumbled one, final time and collapsed at Princess Luna's hooves. His vision began to fade, darkness creeping over his numb body. Before all was darkness, he saw the Princess move for the first time. She lowered herself down, laying next to him, then craned her neck forward - touching her horn to his.

Rarity couldn't move a muscle as Shining crumpled to the ground, his horn flickering slightly in death throes - those beautiful blue eyes fluttering shut.

Shroud was yelling something, but so were a hundred other ponies. Then, the tigers lept from the trees and undergrowth.

Her attention was ripped from Shining when she saw one in the trees across the road. It's muscles were bunching, hindlegs coiling with power, those sharp, almost glowing, predator's eyes focused on her. Everything seemed sluggish, especially herself. Her training began to kick in, memories she had been horrified of resurfacing.

Her instructor's voice came to her; 'There will be times when you are not safe, when your enemies prove more cunning than you thought. They will want you dead. They will be inches away, and stronger than you. Every race on Equus knows the power of unicorns on a battlefield. When the time comes, leave the flashy spells behind. Remember that flesh is less dense than bone. Remember the air in their lungs, the blood in their veins. Defend yourself, and come home - and my job will be done, though the Princess knows you may never forgive me for what I have taught you.'

The tiger lept. It was huge, slabs on slabs of muscle, longer than a few of the wagons. It had hundreds of pounds on her.

Rarity's training kicked in, adrenaline flooding her veins.

She stepped to the side and grasped at the tiger's centre of mass in her levitation - a sloppy grab, but more than enough at her strength. She clenched, then yanked back purposefully against the leap of the predator.

Rarity couldn't hear the sickening rips, she couldn't hear the muscles tearing and organs rupturing, or the shredding of muscle off of bone. That is what she told herself.

But she could see. By the Princess, she could see. The tiger's ribs and sternum suddenly pressed forward against its chest, the skin rupturing as muscle and organ were yanked back, the force of its own leap forcing bone forward. Ribs shore through the skin on its chest, blood-stained against its orange fur. Its skin strained and peeled back. Its muscles bunched unnaturally toward its back, no longer attached to bone. The sudden incomprehensible terror and agony on its face even as it seized mid-air, curling unnaturally inward as tendons ripped.

It was dead before it hit the ground a few feet in front of her, blood pooling in the mud, splashing up against her face under her half-helm.

She had no time to process the horror before her, but it would forever be etched into her mind.

Rarity's attention was ripped to the side, where one of the tigers was leaping upon two earth pony legionnaires. Their steel armour crumpled like tin under its paws, sheared by the force of its claws and powerful leap. One of the pony's backs snapped like a toothpick, instantly dead, the steel of his own armour shredding his flesh as he convulsed and died. The second was caught across the haunches and sent sprawling, a sickening crack joining the cacophony of death and pain around her, his leg bending unnaturally, metal pressed inward against flesh.

The tiger lept in for the kill, but Rarity was faster - she lit her horn, heart thudding in her ears as her instructor's training guided her magic. A sliver of magic appeared just in front of her - nearly a foot of solidified energy. A needle-point of light and death. With a needle held in her magic, Rarity knew she could do anything.

The magical needle rocketed forth, carefully guided in her mind, and bored a searing hole in the skull of the tiger - instantly killing it, even as the body convulsed, collapsing inches from the downed legionnaire.

She didn't have time to feel triumph or disgust. The ambush waged around her, the entire column consumed by combat - there were nearly as many tigers as there were ponies, she thought. She could see pegasi with wings ripped off, some trying to crawl to shelter, others laid in shock, eyes wide and unseeing. The legionnaires were being torn apart, except where a few groups worked in cohesion. She could see Gale Force fighting with a decanium nearby.

Her eyes rested on the Captain of the Royal Guard for brief moments, catching a flash of him in his deadly dance. Adamantine armour seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, blood-splattered but unmarred. He was twirling mid-air as a tiger leapt at him. The wind seemed to solidify around his wing, air resistance turned into a sword of his own creation, matching his razor-sharp wing-blades. The twirl completed with his wing cleaving through the neck of the tiger, muscle and bone splitting like paper. No movement was wasted as his twisting motion became a steep dive toward combat on the ground - and he was out of her sight.

The smell of blood filled her nostrils. The scent of death, of dying ponies and tigers. It clung to her, filled her lungs. The screams and shouts, the crunching of metal, the snapping of bone. The roaring of a tiger, too close for comfort.

Rarity's head whipped toward the sound, eyes widening - it was close, mere feet away. She yanked her needle back toward her, but before she had the chance to act, Sergeant Basalt Pie was there.

He slammed into the side of the tiger with all the force of a rockslide, adamantine armour turned mud brown and blood red, the carefully sharpened ridges of his armour and sabatons sticking against the mud like scarlet edgings on a cloak. The tiger's muscles rippled as it was forced off of its course, all of the power of its leap made null by the raw strength of the Sergeant.

Rarity could feel the power coiled within the earth pony, imagine his fur turned stone-like, near impervious as his muscles and bones filled with the power of the earth. He was a master, the shifting tides of power in his legs and body adjusting to each movement, not an ounce of energy wasted as he pressed forward - rearing and trying to bring his hooves down on the tiger, each capable of shattering boulders.

The tiger was nearly quick enough to roll out of the way, scrambling to the side and closer to where Shroud was attempting to keep Shining alive - there was so much blood - but its foreleg was caught under one of those deadly sabatons, bending like wet paper, almost cleaved through by the ridge on the piece of armour.

Rarity's needle arrived. She launched it forward and bore a hole through the tiger's chest cavity, ending its life.

The Sergeant only took half a moment to glance around, then charged toward another combat - roaring out, "Rear, Belle!" His voice cut through the tumult of combat. It was the first thing she was sure she actually heard since all of this began, the background of death and horror almost unreal and impossible to process compared to that reassuringly powerful voice.

Rarity turned her attention behind her, preparing to follow the order and assist the struggling legionnaires at the rear of the formation, but was interrupted by a wave of sudden magical power. It crashed upon her like a tsunami, her own needle of energy wavering in the face of the sudden shift of tides.

She looked over toward the source - her heart stopping in her chest as Shining Armor slowly stood, but he was not Shining Armor.

The alabaster-white coat of his face seemed almost ethereal, glowing in the moonlight. His eyes blazed silver and blue, burning like fire, glinting as the adamantine of his armour. His mane was flowing, a river of starlight, his horn the gleam of a drawn blade. Ghostly wings as dark as the space between stars spread from his sides.

"Nightwatcher!" Shroud yelled out, stumbling back and away from Shining - red eyes reflecting the light emanating from him, wide with reverence, utter devotion echoed there. "Starmane! Starmane!"

The Nightwatcher's horn glowed, and the arrow was ripped from Shining's neck, snapped like a twig, and tossed aside. No new torrent of blood was issued forth, the wound sealing like nothing more than a scratch. Those glowing eyes took in the battlefield, large portions of it had slowed significantly - wide eyes full of terror and awe watching the display. A few of the tigers turned and attempted to flee into the jungles.

The Starmane moved. Ethereal wings flapped, launching it into the air, horn glowing as bright as a star. Streaks of light issued forth from that horn, streaking out like comets in the night air, dozens of them - each as fine as string, leaving trails marking their path. Each found their targets, controlled by will and thought beyond Rarity's imagining, each weaving between ponies without leaving as much as a scratch. They simply entered tigers and pressed through them, exploding out, leaving a trembling, quavering corpse on the ground. Then, they streaked forth - each accurate, always finding their targets.

The display was terrifying. The thestrals of the Guard and Legion had simply ceased fighting, all throwing themselves to the mud, prostrating themselves before a god returned from the dead through Rarity's friend.

Smoke began to pour from Shining's horn, the bone starting to glow from strain - simply unable to bear with the power being forced through it, the force of will exerted to individually guide dozens of needles in their masterful dance around the battlefield. Shining's mouth opened in a silent scream, but was clenched shut before Rarity's eyes. The needles of light cut off, a scant few tigers disappearing into the woods, their calls of terror growing more distant.

The Starmane lowered to the ground, wings beginning to fade, the ethereal glow of its fur fading. The Nightwatcher regarded the soldiers around it, those glowing eyes briefly passing over Rarity. Then, its mouth open - and issued forth was a regal mare's voice, made of will and steel, edged like a blade, "Fight on, brave Legions."

Then, the Nightwatcher faded. Shining Armor stood there a moment, shaking in his armour, shivering against some unseen sensation. His blue eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed in the blood-soaked mud.

Author's Note

A bit of a wait for a shorter one... Apologies for that. Struggled to get the combat right in my head, and on how exactly to do things in this chapter.

I can honestly say, however, that from here on we will be distancing from the war a good bit - returning more to Twilight and Cadance. The reason the War segments have gone on so long was me sort-of trying to build to this point, get the chapters to a point where I was happy with presenting this. Hope the combat sequence is good.

Anyway, you'll be seeing more of the war - just a lot less than you have been in recent chapters. It's sort of took over a large part of the story, more than I intended. Shouldn't have to wait too long for the next chapter.