The frosty wind, echoing off the cavern roof with the hollow moan of an old man, rushed at me, turning the sweat on my forehead into chunks of ice and trying to break through the skin and steel of my armor – I no longer felt it. My body ached from the pain of many hours of battle, my weakened hands clutched my trusty sword and shield more out of habit, and my dainty light helmet in the shape of a crown of thorns seemed heavier than a blacksmith's anvil.

"Go away, carrion eaters." I growled softly to a flock of crows that had come to a great feast given them by the knights. The black birds did not respond to the quiet threat and cawed furiously, cursing among themselves for another piece of still-warm human meat and pecking out the eyes of the dead.

"Is everything quiet yet, Gabriel?" My brother John's haggard voice snaps me out of my stupor. Where was this boy who found time to play tricks and make the reverend chaplains laugh at his childish pranks? A tired old man with a depleted face and black circles under his eyes was asking me questions. John's mail shirt was torn to shreds, and his shield looked like a bristling hedgehog.

"Yes, while they are away, they are preparing a new attack."

"Three more of our brothers died of their wounds, and...Annabelle woke up, maybe you want to…"

When I hear that cherished name, I push my brother aside, rushing toward our last line of defense, which separates our chapel from the battlefield. My Annabelle, my fragile flower that I loved with all my heart. Yes, the priors did not approve of marriage, regardless of whether it was a brother or sister of our order, but our love was so pure and vestal that Grand master Mortimer himself blessed our future union. This spring, we were supposed to be married, but a terrible cataclysm on its scale thwarted our plans.

No, our glorious order of Saint Balaur did not falter, but accepted the ordeal that God had sent us as a prior knight should. We, forgetting about sleep and fatigue, rushed to all parts of the country - rescued the wounded from the rubble, provided food and temporary shelter, treated the sick and gave them everything we had. Annabelle and I worked as hard as anyone – we didn't have enough time for even a fleeting glance, a bare touch on each other's hands, and an hour of rapid sleep together next to each other seemed sweeter than the wedding night.

But such wounds do not heal easily, there is an aftereffect – growing out of nowhere, like a weed, the Legion of Black Stone, which was led by a merciless and cruel warlord Appolion began his senseless bloody war just for the sake of the war itself. We have heard the sad news that many worthy knights of Eschfeld, and samurais from the East have joined her army, mercilessly violated their codes and laws. There was a black sheep among us who thought of himself as a wolf – the very name of this scoundrel and sinner who opposed the very law of God began to sound like a curse. Vortiger - he is the one behind this battle in the cave grotto that served as our fortress and temple.

Yes, the bodies of his henchmen, including the Black Priors who succumbed to his lies, cover the floor of the cave, but our brothers and sisters lie motionless among their bodies, bravely fighting to the last breath. I am ashamed that we could not carry their bodies out and bury them with proper dignity – we can only hope that the snow will gently wrap their bodies in its white shroud.

Again I reproached myself for not keeping track of her, for not protecting her when she needed my strong shoulder and shield. I was so engrossed in the battle, fighting the black-and-orange-uniformed brigands side by side with my future bride, that I didn't even notice when Annabelle just fall on me. I barely had time to catch her – a light, almost weightless figure; even through my gloves, I felt strong warmth, as if I put my cold hands in a sun-warmed fruit. The heat flowed through my fingers straight into the snow, as if trying to warm the frozen January earth – and it was only when my hands turned scarlet and the black arrow stings sticking out of the girl's body ceased to seem like a nightmare that I came to my senses. But only for a moment – only to throw the shield over his back and rush for the break, making his way with his sword and prayers.

"Please, God, let Annabel live, I'm not ready to let her go yet. Think of our family, our unborn children, and our grandchildren who will warm our hearts when our hair turns gray. Please, please, as I've never asked for anything in my life” I kept repeating to myself as I walked to the makeshift infirmary.
A hundred and fifty bodies covered with sheets over their heads, the low murmur of the funeral service mixed with prayers for strengthening the faith, thick lamp smoke and the smoke of bonfires, coughing, moans of pain – and twenty emaciated figures who still kept their feet, despite fatigue and reddening terrible wounds. They were just novices, just boys who didn't earn the right to carry a sword and shield, but war always ages faster than time.

"Gabriel, my dear Gabriel, where is he?" a woman's voice, quiet as loose sand, makes my heart bleed. As if blinded, I rush at the sound to the thin figure sprawled on someone's cloak. The boy on duty next to her, his hands stained with blood, stood up and walked away without a word, looking at me with sympathy and compassion.

"Annabelle, I'm here," I say, fighting back tears as I touch her hand and pale face and try to stop my fingers from trembling. How much she had suffered during these months: the black circles under her eyes, the haggard cheeks had lost their color, and the ring finger was tied with a thread so that the ring I had given her would not fall off. And she was still as beautiful as the first day we met. Lord, do I really deserve such a wife?

At the sound of my voice, the girl opened her eyes, and my heart felt like steel bands of terror. All three of the arrows that had pierced the armor had hit her badly, and Annabelle's eyes were now clear and now bleary. I looked into them and didn't know if my beloved could see me.

"I see you," she says, trying to calm her rapid breathing and keep her stance until the end. "I'm so happy, Gabriel. I've never felt so happy in my life, I swear to you. And I thank God for bringing me to you."

"Annabelle, please," the treacherous lump rises in my throat again. "Save your strength, and you will live. You will rest while we slay these murderers and robbers. And we will share happiness together, and…"

"Gabriel, it's so nice to hear your voice," the girl smiles at me affectionately. But on the right cheek, the smile continues its course, becoming a trickle of blood. " Only the head is so heavy, and these black birds are circling around. My dear husband, I am so sorry for you…"

Her body shudders twice in my hands, and the soft fingers that a moment ago touched my face fall powerlessly with her hand. I don't want to believe what just happened – I see it, but my whole being denies it. I just hold her body tighter against mine and howl helplessly like a wounded animal, not calming down until we are pulled apart. My bride's body is laid with the others, her head covered with her own cloak – now she is indistinguishable from the rest of the fallen brothers and sisters, and the prayer will be one for all.

"Brother Gabriel, what should we do?" someone asked me. " All the chaplains are dead or missing, and the high master is left with two brothers to let us escape and regroup."

"Relic," I say, my voice unexpectedly firm. "We must not allow these brats of the human race to defile it, too! All who can stand up and hold a sword with a shield-get up and help those who are unable to walk. If we are to die, we will sell our lives more dearly. And remember – faith is our shield!"

I go first, leading the neophytes – very young boys, many of them under eighteen. Yes, I am leading them to their death – but I will go to meet the Lord first, taking with me more murderers and heretics. Better death than dishonor. I want the death of all my brothers and sisters, humble servants and wise chaplains, and above all, my beloved, not to be in vain. With a bash of my shield, I open the doors to the battlefield – or rather, the abyss of Hell.

In the front ranks, standards and banners held high, marched men clad in steel and leather, their shields locked together to form a solid wall. Their boots clattered as they crept along the stone gallery, and ahead of them all loomed a familiar figure, towering like a statue. The armor though reforged and covered with a thick fur ermine coat was faintly recognizable, but the monolithic teardrop-shaped shield with a flamberg sword and the "crown of the penitent" helmet on the head immediately distinguished the traitor prior.

"Vortiger, you vile coward and traitor! How dare you show up here!"

"Look, the puppy is trying to growl like a wolf!" Vortiger's cheeks, horribly scarred by the renegade brand, stretched out in a grin, showing his sparse teeth. "You're showing off to your lady, aren't you? Don't worry, I'll take good care of your Annabel, if she's still alive, which I doubt."

" I have already slain you when you fell into heresy and trampled on law and honor." I try to keep my voice steady, even though I'm filled with a mixture of anger and grief. "But don't expect any mercy from the master this time, and you won't get away with it."

"The master, that miserable old idiot, was always stupid and ignorant. He has no slightest idea how pathetic and insignificant his ideals are," the traitor prior snarled at the memory of his humiliation. "But fortunately, he and the chaplain's Council are on my side today, aren't they?"

Upon hearing this, the marauders respond with loud laughter and raise sharp spears topped with terrifying trophies. I recognize with a shudder the severed heads of the venerable chaplains and chapter master Mortimer himself, and their hands and feet, still covered with warm blood, are raised on spears after them. But the most monstrous dagger in the back was the appearance of brother John, who came from somewhere out of a crevice in the rocks – in the hands of the traitor was clutched a small object wrapped in scarlet velvet, which was handed to Vortiger with a bow of his head.

My heart sank – there was no doubt it was a Relic. A Vessel of Miracle.

No one knew where this artifact came from, or why it was so revered – some said it was sent directly from heaven. Others - that it sprouted from the earth's interior. The master himself claimed that it was the war horn of the horse that the original founder primogen Balaur himself had fought on. But are there unicorns? It still seemed childish to me, even though I reproached myself for such blasphemous thoughts. But whatever it was, this curiously curved corkscrew bone, no larger than a small dagger, could dispel fears, longing and resentment just by its presence.

Many kings, dukes, counts and barons have come to us just to look at this curiosity – but only a few have been allowed to do so. I saw how their faces changed after visiting the artifact-some were filled with thoughts, others were crying with happiness or accumulated sadness.

I was jerked out of my memory by a squelching sound as John's body slowly fell to his knees, then collapsed at the feet of Vortiger, who was fastidiously wiping his sword on the edge of his fur coat.

"Ironically, I can't stand traitors," said the prior. "Sheep who would eat their own kind if they were anything like wolves. As for you, Gabriel, prepare to see a real miracle."

Vortiger throws his shield to the ground, then lays a rag on it and unfolds the edges, illuminating his disfigured face with the warm yellow light of the Relic.

"Warm, tender, affectionate," such nice words out of the renegade's mouth sound worse than the hiss of a swamp viper. "That doesn't belong in my world, the world of real predators!"

"Brothers!" I see Vortiger pull his sword arm back for a swing. This monstrous act of the highest blasphemy must not take place. "Follow me, attack! Ad profundis!"

"Ad profundis!" the neophytes are running at my heels, showered with arrows. I see several warriors running forward with their shields and spears out, but I don't stop – on the contrary. I burst in, howling the litany of the Knight, breaking the shield barrier - neophytes entwined with soldiers in a deadly battle - spots of scarlet blood staining armor and cloaks.

I felt the air behind me tense and quiver as someone swung a weapon to end my life. A neophyte leaped forward to cover me, and raised his shield just as a sharp sword whizzed past my ear.

With a snarl of rage, I swung my sword in an arc, knocking the attacker's weapon far out of the way. I catch a glimpse of genuine surprise on his face just before the blade cuts open enemy’s gambaison and the belly, releasing the guts.

The young man who had saved my life fell to one knee and let out a long moan as the breastplate of his armor was pierced through and blood spurted out in a fountain. A bearded warrior with a bloodstained face came at me.

Blind with rage, I swung my blade, and my trusty sword cut the thug almost in two, passing through the helmet and splitting the opponent's sword into small pieces.

“You cannot be distracted by them, you need to have time to ... save...the Relic!”

One last tug and time stood still. I saw Vortiger's dreadful sword fly with a clang like a grave bell and the horn begging desperately for salvation – and it was so close to me. It seemed that it was only necessary to stretch out a hand – and the priceless relic was saved! At the very last moment, out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of metal: a heavy iron ball on a chain, flying straight at my head, knocking me over. I barely have time to regroup and get to my feet when the enemy soldier launches his weapon at me again – I intercept the chain in one movement and send the ball back to the enemy's head. A moment later, his head in helmet slides off his shoulders and falls to the ground with a muffled groan. But this sound was not made by a dead man, and Vortiger's laughter, full of malice and venom, confirms this – the Vessel of Miracle was just destroyed by the hands of a traitor.

"Vortiger...you are a monster, a fratricide, you…Brothers, come at me!" but when I looked around, I didn't see a single familiar face alive. Only other people's faces red with anger and sin, which are ready to tear me to pieces at the first word. "All right, I'll send you to the judgment of God by myself."

"Stop shaking the air, Gabriel," sighed the prior. "Look around you and be appalled at all that has happened because of you. After all, this could not have happened if you were a wolf and not a sheep."

I stare at the broken artifact in a daze – as the horn paled and dried, and the warm light it radiated grew paler and paler. As if life itself were leaving him, I could see Annabelle dead in my arms again.

"You were strong enough to handle me, and I underestimated you, and I paid the price. But you acted against your sincere desire to kill the renegade – you took me to trial, knowing full well that no one would kill the prior. For all his sick justice, the master understood what rumors would go out in the event of execution – priors, the best of the best, knights without fear or reproach become ordinary brigands .Instead, I was humiliated, dishonored, and thrown out, making a monster of me and naively hoping for my repentance or just going somewhere far away. And what has my life given you? Your bride is dead, the lights of wisdom are decapitated, your future generation of priors perished in your desire to save at least the Vessel, but even here you failed. Tell me, how does it feel to be the last of the clan out of your own kindness?"

"Don't try to confuse me with your chatter, I'll decide my own penance." I am the one, who is lying now. He's right, absolutely right about everything. "But I’ll give you redemption, if you're so hungry for it. Don't expect any mercy from me. For Annabelle, for the brothers, for the clan, and for myself, Amen."

"Finally, there it is!" Vortiger roared in triumph, grabbing for his sword and shield. "The words of a true warrior! Guys, if he kills me, he'll lead you, you hear?"

I was about to bash him with the shield and finish him in one hit when the floor suddenly shuddered under my feet. The first blow was followed by a second, even harder. No, shifting earth plates or subterranean rocks were not uncommon, but this was not like this. It was as if an unknown force was expressing all its righteous fury, preparing to bring it down on the heads of the warriors present. I look at the Relic and can't help but cry out in surprise – both parts of the horn were hitting the ground like a stranded fish, and each new blow was accompanied by another wave of unknown force.

"Die!" I barely raise my shield in time to block Vortiger's curved sword. Our blades crossed, sending out showers of sparks – again and again. We fight to music of chaos - the screams, the clang of metal, and the clatter of boots as the Legion of Appolion flees in panic. But fate itself is against their desire to survive – huge chunks of the ceiling fall on the heads of the soldiers, cutting off lives and filling up the passages. Burning eyes, clenched teeth — we fought to the death. The weapons clanked so fiercely that the blue sparks of lightning turned yellow, bounced and fell on our shields with a terrible hiss.

Vortiger snarled with rage when I barely dodged the blow and swung the flamberg again. I paused for a moment, and only at the last second parried the traitor's blow, knocking him off balance, and then made a counter-thrust, aiming the sword straight at the false prior's chest.

"Yes, that's it! I will avenge everyone – my bride, my brothers and fathers, my honor!”

But the unexpected happened: there was a terrible grinding crash, and a shadow flew at the two of us. I manage to make an incredible leap to the side, dodging the rock that splits the floor of the cave with a giant crack, but two pieces of granite fly off and stab me right in the knee and face. Flashes of pain, my leg goes numb at once, and a nasty noise in my ears and a black haze before my eyes make me lose my clarity of mind.

"Eternal torment to you, Vortiger!" I don't know where I'm going, cursing and hitting the air. Another step forward – and the next moment the foot falls into the void. I try desperately to keep my balance, but the lunge has already sealed my fate for me – my body falls into the darkness of the Abyss, rushing towards eternal darkness.

Meanwhile, somewhere else

"Spike, have you forgotten anything? Paper, pens, ink? The Black Tail belt's Starfall should start any minute - it happens once in a hundred years!"

"Twilight, you asked me again for the tenth time, so I will answer Yes again." the purple dragon grimaced. "I have checked all the instruments several times, and all the indicators will be measured and recorded properly."

"I’m sorry, Spike." Twilight Sparkle apologetically smiled. "I'm just so excited, it's not every day that Princess Luna herself asks you to document all the data for such a rare event!"

"It's all right, Twi. Want some cocoa?"

"Not yet, thanks for your concern," pony thoughtfully smoothed her mane with a hoof, straightened monocular to her eye and looked at the instruments. "So many indicators, I don't even know where to start…By the way, what does Dash say?"

"This storm surprised her," Spike said, taking a sip of the fragrant drink. "Todays morning she gathered all Wonderbolts and promised that the night sky will be clear as a tear, but the storm just appeared as if from nowhere!"

Twilight nodded, for a storm like this had never appeared in Equestria before. The instruments chirped, squeaked, and creaked, recording incredible readings of wind, rain, and air density.

"Well, well, well, the increased concentration of iron, the conversion to oxide ... …So, the decay of particles through dioxide, the burning of ozone, mhm…Sweet Celestia, what is this?”

Out of the corner of her eye, pony saw something strange in the blue-black storm sky – a glowing point, briefly illuminated by a zigzag flash of lightning. As she leaned against the telescope and focused, Twilight gasped – it wasn't a star. This shining point flew across the sky, leaving a trail of dim light behind it. The Princess finally calmed down and exhaled. Celestial bodies and foreign objects did not interest her very much during her studies, because research in this area was extremely sparse and was based mostly on guesswork, not facts. On the other hoof, Twilight would be happy to explore an unknown object from all sides - or just give it to the Friendship School for study. The problem was how to determine where it would land. None of the Pegasus will fly in this weather!

"Interesting," the Princess whispered. Apparently, the object fell somewhere in the Everfree forest. "Very curious. Spike, we'll visit Zekora in the morning."

Author's Note

Be glad to take any criticism (just don't be to hard on me, english is not my basic language).