There was thunder above and below, as the trudging of heavy hooves in the mud and snow mimicked each roar of the tempest circling overhead.

This time they’ll trample me for sure.

Juno fixed her helmet, which was too large for her head, as yet another patrol unit of twenty shivering soldiers came storming through the muddy crossing, stepping over the trembling ropes that held the scattered mess of tents in place. She had seen a few tents fly away in the wind already, and if the weather kept as it was, she wondered how much of the camp would be left standing by dawn.

Part of her was relieved to have to stop and wait for the soldiers to march on by, she had hardly gotten a chance to catch her breath in what felt like hours.

She had just finished her fourth trip to the baggage train, an endless cycle of retrieving buckets of oil and bundles of spears to bring back to the armory. For all those days of marching, their enemy had always seemed impossibly far, a distant tomorrow. But that tomorrow had come, and for the squires and pages and storerunners like Juno, there was not a second to waste, as the sleepless camp came undone in the storm.

Juno was glad Snowfall had decided to go north. If we win, we’ll go to the capital. That seemed as good a place as any for Sunset Shimmer to be hiding. And Flurry Heart was there, too. She imagined the look on Cadance’s face if they were ever to be reunited, and the thought gave her courage. My family’s destroyed. But hers doesn’t have to be.

She hoped Snowfall wouldn’t be angry at her, once she found her chance to slip away. As much as Juno wanted to trust her, she couldn't trust anypony but herself anymore. Her father had always told her that soldiers lived by a code of honor and bravery. But the Surgeon’s ponies were soldiers, and they had no honor, and they weren’t brave, only cruel.

She had spent weeks marching with Snowfall, and not once had she gotten to reunite with Tails and Poundcake, who were busy training with the other recruits. I’d make a better soldier than either of them. She had told Snowfall as much, but Snowfall only smiled and patted her head. She would have to prove herself, Juno thought, and so she worked tirelessly day and night to earn her keep, running errands all over the camp without a moment’s rest. Her world was work now, and she found some unlikely respite in the daily droll, some strange feeling of freedom from having to think or worry or fear.

After a few days, she could not fathom anything disrupting her concentration. But this night, that was going to change. On her fifth trip for the night, she nearly slipped in the muddy stream by the lancers’ carriage, when she caught sight of a group of ponies loitering by a water well. She practically dove to the ground to hide behind a barrel, before peeking back out to make sure her eyes had not deceived her. One of those soldiers was one she recognized, one she thought she would only ever see again in her memories.

Captain Coda, her former captor, stuck out among Snowfall’s soldiers armored in white and gold, in his dull, muddy, moss-green attire. He was as good of a tracker as ponies had claimed back at Wisteria, she realized, how else could he have found her here? She had been confident he’d have lost her trail miles and miles ago.

He’s here for me. He wants to take me back.

She almost wanted to laugh, for how strange it felt, to have caused enough trouble to warrant her own personal pursuer. No, Juno thought, it’s not about me. Not really. It’s Cadance, Juno told herself, I know where they’re taking her, to the Ghostfort. Somepony will find Cadance and rescue her, Juno realized, and all Juno had to do was point them in the right direction.

Juno felt her heartbeat hasten, and she tried her best to calm herself down. Coda had never been cruel towards her, certainly not like the Surgeon had been. But he frightened her nonetheless. She had been frightened of her father sometimes, but she had never seen him do anything like what Coda did. She remembered the sound of Hask’s skull cracking underneath Coda’s hoof, and the wet spray of blood on her face. She remembered the smell, the sickly sweet smell of ghastly innards, still not quite as horrid as what she could recall from Ponyville. Juno sighed and shut her eyes as tightly as she could, as if that were to make her disappear right then and there.

Hask was dead, she told herself. She had real, living problems to deal with. Still, she could not shake the feeling of his touch on her skin, a crawling sensation that kept her cold and stiff and guarded. Maybe it's just this weather, turning my blood to ice.

Coda had saved her, it was true, though he was no friend of hers, and she knew he wouldn't hesitate to throw her back in irons. He had come all this way, after all. I can't go back, she thought, the Surgeon will cut off my hooves and my tongue, and then peel the skin off me! With her heart beating out of her chest, she bolted out from behind the barrel, hurrying to find Snowfall.

Dropping her bags as she ran through the rain, she hoped that the torrent and the dark of the night were enough to hide her escape. Across the camp, she found Snowfall’s command tent. The entrance was cluttered with officers trying to stay out of the rain, and Juno had to squeeze through just to find some open space to stand. Deeper inside, dull orange candle light revealed a table covered in maps and miniatures. All the officers were so much taller than her, most of them had not even noticed she had come in.

The hippogriff prince, Terramar, saw her, and shot her a smile, as he always did. He was kind to her, and she thought he was sufficiently handsome, for a hippogriff. Her father had always described their kind as slimy-skinned and reeking of fish. But his downy coat was softer and whiter than her own, and he only somewhat smelled of fish.

Sparkshower was there too, and though she usually made an effort to bang on Juno’s helmet and ask her about her day, today she hardly acknowledged her. She was anxious, Juno suspected. They all were. She could feel the fear in the room. These ponies were shivering and sniffling, with their shoulders hung low and their eyes cast down to the ground. Since the hippogriff fleet had won the Battle of Vanhoover, all of the Smoky Shore was under the control of the Empire. Snowfall's army was trapped in the center of the Highlands, with one army to the north and another approaching from the south.

Styles was there too. Unlike the rest of Snowfall’s subordinates, who were mostly an amicable bunch, Styles had never so much as looked in Juno’s direction. He terrified her, for all the scratches and dents and blood stains on his armor, and the arrows that stayed stuck right in the metal. She was drawn to him, still. He did not have Terramar’s boyish good looks, but he had flashing purple eyes and a smile that cut like a knife. He was hard and strong, but quick as well, and today he was the only one who seemed unafraid. They were all wet, cold, and exhausted.

Even Snowfall, whose coat was white as snow, seemed paler than usual. Juno knew better than most, as the commander’s cupbearer, that Snowfall had gotten less than a few hours of sleep these past nights.

“It’s been days of marching, with half rations and non-stop snow and rain,” Terramar said, “If they catch us before we reach the fort, we won’t last an hour. We should turn back to Haverford and try another way.”

Styles’ face soured when the prince said “turn back,” but he did not speak. Snowfall sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

“We don’t have a choice but to fight them out here, if they’re as close as we think,” Snowfall said, “If we go back to Haverford we’d have two armies to deal with, remember.”

"And a city too," Terramar pointed out, "Haverford's walls are thick, and the city can survive a siege for a long while, Stonehoof always told me so. All we'd have to do is hold out until Princess Twilight sends relief."
"She won't send relief," Snowfall said, bluntly, "She can't, not with the dragons closing in. Canterlot cannot fall. We only stand a chance if we take on one army at a time. If we go back to Haverford, we'll be trapped."

Several of the officers began grumbling, a few in support of Terramar, a few for Snowfall.

“The scouts think Shining’s positioning himself here,” Styles said, pointing at a spot on the map, “North of the Silent River in the Wolfswood. If our plan works, they’ll think we’re pushing most of our strength to the east side. Me and the van can take them where they’re weakest, here in the west, and Snowfall will take the reserves to swing down across the river, closing them in against us.”

“You don’t have enough ponies left to lead the van,” Snowfall said, bluntly. Styles seemed irritated then; the wounds of his last defeat were still fresh. Juno recalled what had happened to the last pony who brought up his failure at Starhaven, that poor corporal with the now-broken nose.

“No. Which is why I’ll need help,” Styles said. He glanced down at Terramar, who turned pale.

“....The front line?” Terramar repeated, horrified, “Why me?”

“I’m going to need your hippogriffs,” Styles said, “They fly and swim and fight well. They’ll fight even better with you leading the charge.”

Juno winced. He’d just rather see dead hippogriffs instead of dead ponies. Snowfall seemed to know this, but said nothing. She thinks we’re all going to die. Who dies when won’t matter.

“Be quick with the horn so I know when to fall in,” Snowfall said, “And do not attack unless you’re sure they don’t know we’re coming. If you get caught in a trap everything will fall apart. Understand?”

Styles nodded, and the two locked eyes for a moment before Snowfall composed herself and glanced back at the map.

“We’ll meet here again tomorrow morning,” Snowfall said, “Now get some rest. All of you.”

Juno stuck to the corners of the tent as the officers began shuffling out, dragging their hooves as they went.

Only then did Snowfall finally notice Juno, after almost everypony had left the tent. Styles remained, but gave them their distance, lingering by the map table.

Snowfall knelt down beside Juno, with an uneasy smile on her face. She adjusted Juno’s helmet for her.

“You’ve kept yourself busy,” Snowfall guessed, eyeing Juno up and down.

“I didn’t finish, but I wanted to see if you needed anything,” Juno replied.

“I need you to go to bed, it’s late."

“Commander, can’t you talk things out with these guys instead of fighting?” Juno asked. If they made a truce, she’d have a much easier time crossing enemy lines to get to the Crystal City.

Snowfall smiled, and shut her eyes for a moment.

“If it were up to me, we would,” she said, though for a moment she seemed to falter, as if the temptation of treachery was getting the better of her, “...I want you to be safe while I’m gone. Help where you can. And be ready to drop everything and run, and quickly. Understand?”

“Yes,” Juno nodded her head.

“...If something should happen,” Snowfall said, “You’re to make for Baltimare, OK? Join the nearest caravan. Promise me you’ll do it, Juno.”

Juno hesitated. She did not like having to lie.

“I promise,” Juno said. Snowfall seemed to see right through her, but was too weary to argue. Snowfall hugged her, and Juno almost wanted to confess everything about her plan to find Sunset Shimmer, or beg Snowfall not to go, but she could not speak.

“Go on,” Snowfall said, releasing Juno and standing up.

Juno obeyed and made to exit the tent, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Styles get up from his seat to approach Snowfall.

Outside in the camp, Juno caught her breath, and glanced around to see if Coda was anywhere near. Once Snowfall leaves he’ll come for me. I have to get out. I have to get out now.

“Juno!”

From a passing column of soldiers, a young stallion sprang out of formation. Juno’s heart almost gave out, when she first thought it was Coda come to snatch her up and drag her back to the Surgeon’s castle. But it was not Coda, no, but another pony she knew. Tails! And behind him came Poundcake. In his chainmail shirt with a sword at his hip, Tails looked almost a stallion grown, and dangerous. Poundcake looked like Poundcake.

Tails gave Juno a polite hug, while Poundcake was more sheepish, waiting for Juno herself to wrap her forelegs around him.

“Where’ve you two been? You’re really going to fight?” she stammered, horrified, eyeing them both.

“They said we’ve got no choice,” Tails said.

“Since they think we’re spies, and all,” Poundcake added, “Never should’ve gone north, I knew it, didn’t I say? I know I said so, didn’t I? Ah…”

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t….You don’t have to go. Listen, Coda's here somewhere," Juno said. Tails and Poundcake shared an uneasy look. "I’m leaving here, tomorrow, and you two should come with me. You don't have to go fight!"

Tails smiled, and stuck a hoof on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll come back. Tell her, Pound,” Tails said.

“We’ll come back, alright. In pieces!”

“Poundcake,” Tails hissed. Juno adjusted her helmet.

“I didn’t come all the way up here with you two just to watch you get yourselves killed in this stupid war,” Juno said.

“You got us out of that hell back in Wisteria,” Tails said, his smile fading, “You don’t owe us a thing, Juno. There was no point in running. There’s nowhere to run, anyhow.”

“GET BACK IN LINE YOU TWO!” barked a sergeant from the column Tails and Poundcake had abandoned. Poundcake picked up his spear. Tails smiled again and drew his hoof back from Juno’s shoulder.

“But I know you’ll keep trying anyway,” Tails grinned.

He returned with Poundcake to the line.

Juno shivered in the cold, glancing over towards the woods, alone again.

Time escaped him, the longer his eyes lingered on Shining Armor’s seat. Broadwing imagined himself there, with a crown on his head, with Windchill and his mother and Orion and Bellflower all beside him.

He blinked a few times to rouse himself from his daydream, as his mind returned to the present, and the voices of twenty overlapping arguments attacked him from all sides.

The rebel army left Starhaven without much time to celebrate their victory; they had the royals on the run, as far as Broadwing could tell, and so they had not a moment to spare in scouring every inch of the Highlands in pursuit.

They had come upon the Wolfswood only yesterday, a vast wintery wood bound to the north by the Crystal Mountains and stretching all the way down to Haverford, which had been captured by the royals just last week. Through the woods ran the Silent River, which was two-mile wide and distinct for its quiet current.

Broadwing had hoped to confront the royals closer to Haverford, so that Hardball’s army in the south could join them in the battle, but Snowfall had anticipated this, and according to the newest reports, her current objective seemed to be the taking of Hellebore’s Fort.

Tempers were flaring over what course to take next. The reindeer had sworn a blood oath to kill Styles to avenge their fallen prince, however the Selvite Prince Vitreum had already claimed Styles for himself, and so now the two kingdoms were at each other’s throats. A yak had insulted a changeling by mistake, and so they too could hardly get along. Now that the rebel leaders all knew how close they were to the enemy, the thrill of battle was upon them as well.

“Rutger will lead charge!” barked the yak prince, Rutger.

“They have the high ground on their side of the bank, if we try to charge they’ll pick us off and dam the river with our dead,” grunted Vitreum.

“They have to cross at some point if they want to reach the fort,” said Esther, one of Broadwing’s lieutenants.

“Forget about the fort,” Shining said, “Once they know we’re close, they’ll focus on us and only us.”

“OK, so then we cross first,” said Flash Sentry, one of Shining’s subordinates.

“And then Rutger lead charge!” boomed Rutger.

“That’s what Snowfall wants,” Shining said, “I won’t have us walk right into her trap. She’ll want us to rush the bank, it’s her only advantage and she knows it.”

“So if she won’t cross, and we can’t cross, what do we do?” asked Windchill.

“Snowfall won’t,” Broadwing said, as all eyes drifted over towards him, “But Styles might.”

The rebels began murmuring at the mentioning of Styles’ name.

“He’ll be with the vanguard, he always is. I’ll take my company and bait him into crossing the river. Once he’s deep enough in the woods we’ll descend on them from all sides. The brunt of their forces will be with Snowfall, and they’ll be forced to follow. They’ll spread out, partly into the woods and partly along the river. The river assault should be yours, my prince.”

“...What makes you so certain Styles will break formation?” Shining challenged.

“Because we’ve beaten him before and the sight of me alive will have his blood boiling,” Broadwing said.

Shining grunted, as he rubbed at his eyelids, pensively. Others at the table began murmuring, supposing Broadwing’s idea was the best they had.

“We can’t commit too many to the inner woods, or our main force will be unprotected,” Shining said.

“I’ll need my company at least, and the reindeer too, maybe. Prince Ivan will be glad to have a chance at Styles, and avenge his son,” Broadwing offered.

Prince Ivan nodded, scowling as his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll go with the boy too,” added Vitreum, “Styles’ head is mine.”

Before an argument could erupt, Broadwing raised his hoof, sternly, as though he were the imperial prince himself.

“You’ll both have your chance. What matters is that he’s dead,” Broadwing said.

“I’ll come too,” came Blackburn. Broadwing nodded his head. Blackburn was the closest pony to family he had at his side anymore, his father’s old childhood friend and distant cousin.

“Everyone else will be with you, my prince,” Broadwing said, “We’ll join back with you as quickly as we can.”

Shining sighed and nodded, anxiously.

“If this doesn’t work, we’ll be stretched thin. We’ll be vulnerable,” Shining said.

“It’s the only way,” Broadwing said.

Shining relented, rising to his hooves.

“All of you, get everything in order that you need,” Shining said, resting his hoof on his silver helmet, “Rest tonight. Tomorrow, the North will be free.”

If the cold was what made him tremble, or the fear, he could not say.

Prince Terramar flinched when the branch snapped under his claw. His armor was slick with frozen dew, and he could see his own breath in front of him, shaky and pale.

A small army marched behind him, half of whom were his own hippogriff comrades, those brave few who had joined him in his defiance of the changeling king, who had abducted his sister. He could hardly sleep at night anymore, not while his thoughts revolved around Silver and only Silver. Does she know I'm out here?

He was fighting to rescue her, he reminded himself with each uneven step in the snow. The Wolfswood was quiet like a tomb, save for the soft susurrus of hooves trudging through mud, snow, and long-dead leaves.

Terramar remained at Styles’ side like a child with his father, glancing over his shoulder every other minute.

Styles had changed since Terramar had first joined the campaign, back at the Galloping Gorge. His smirk came just as often, but there was something different; it was insincere, fragile, false. There was a weariness in the commander’s eyes, as well. He had survived twice when he should not have, and a betting pony would not grant him favor to do it a third time in a battle such as this. Terramar shuddered as another chill turned his bones brittle. He had fought twice now, but never in the vanguard, and never against so many. He wanted nothing more than to prove himself, to prevail, but if even Styles could be anxious, how couldn’t he?

Styles had never removed the arrows lodged in his armor, which now numbered four in all. “These should’ve killed me, but they didn’t. So they must be lucky,” was his reasoning. Terramar never dared ask how much it had hurt. He did not want to know.

Styles had taken Terramar alone with him to scout out ahead, when they first heard the soft current of the Silent River in the distance. “They’ll want to draw us straight across,” Snowfall had told them at the final briefing, “Search for a point of attack at the sides, but do not engage.”

Terramar’s claws dangled over the hilt of his sword, buried in his scabbard. He thought of his mother then, about whether she knew where he was and what peril he faced. When I return to you, I’ll have Silver with me. And the thought gave him comfort, and so he stuck by Styles with courage in his heart. I hope we find them. I hope we find them so I can cut my way through them, cut my way to Silver.

Styles suddenly crashed to his knees, at such a speed Terramar’s heart almost gave out, believing they were under attack.

Terramar fell down beside him, sticking his head out from behind a log to inspect over the bank, where Styles’ gaze was fixed.

Only then did he hear the voices, and Terramar realized that there were ponies right below on the other side of the bank, so close to the edge that neither of the pair could have seen them from afar.

Styles glanced at Terramar, and almost had to laugh, for how close they had come to being spotted.

Styles listened carefully to the voices from over the bank. He glanced at Terramar, and blinked, then blinked again, and then a third time, all too quickly for it to have been meaningless. Terramar paused for a moment, before he understood. He thinks there’s just three of them. Terramar listened again, and he nodded his head in agreement.

Styles glanced back up past the log, before sitting down facing back away from the bank.

Then his horn ignited. For what purpose, Terramar was unsure of, until he realized the voices had all gone silent. He heard something else then, like the sound of something falling into a pile of leaves. He glanced up at Styles, slightly horrified. Styles grinned, until both of them froze when the sound of a pony running through rushing water took both of them by surprise. There was a fourth! Terramar realized, One who didn’t speak!
Styles leaped out from behind the log, and, without thinking, Terramar followed him.

From the edge of the bank, Styles again dove behind a rock large enough to hide behind, and Terramar followed after him.

There, they could see the pony running through the river back to the north side.

“He’ll tell them we’re here,” Terramar whispered.

Styles frowned and ignited his horn, though the distance was more considerable now, and the water disoriented his focus. Gritting his teeth, he charged up his horn to volley some projectile blasts, but he missed his first shot, and his second. He might have hit his third, if another blast of magic hadn’t torn through the air by his shoulder, searing his pauldron and sending him tossing back into the snow. Terramar ducked, just as a second blast broke towards him from across the river bank.

“They’ve seen us!” Terramar realized.

Styles pulled himself up to his hooves and grabbed Terramar, pulling him out of the way as another blast was just about to take his ear off.

“The horn,” Styles said.

“But Snowfall said not to engage!”

“Those were Frost Ponies shooting at us,” Styles said, “Edge of the flank, most likely. No more than a hundred. Their precious little prince might be with them.”

“We should fall back,” Terramar insisted, “Find another way across, further down. We can’t go without Snowfall!”

“We can’t wait for her,” Styles retorted, “This plan only works if we take them by surprise. Those Frost Ponies will be quick to tell their commanders, and they’ll launch their assault.”

“I think we should stick to the plan, hold a defensive position, here on the bank,” Terramar said, “Why attack at all?”

“Because we’re weak,” Styles said, “They have three times our number and aren’t starving or frozen half-to-death. We have to be bold, we have to appear strong, or else they’ll wipe us out with ease. We have the better position to hold them off, yeah, but not indefinitely. We’ll be overwhelmed. We have to strike. We have to strike now. Blow the horn.”

Affected by Styles’ confidence, Terramar blew the horn to signal the others, who were still lingering a quarter mile behind.

“You stay close to me, understand?” Styles told him, “Keep your shield up. Take as many as you can.”

Terramar nodded, as Styles bent down to adjust the boy’s helmet.

“Don’t be so afraid. I’ll be right beside you,” Styles said.

Terramar nodded as his teeth kept on chattering. The War Boys and the hippogriffs arrived, gathering there before Styles with their weapons at the ready.

“Phoenix,” Styles said. The pegasus War Girl called Phoenix stepped forward from the line, “Run back to Snowfall, tell her to swing the hammer down right here, this position. We’ll set the path for her, here, now.”

“Yes sir,” Phoenix said. She took flight at once and darted off, leaving the others to mutter amongst each other, realizing their battle was about to begin.

“All you who were with me at Starhaven, you’ll remember the faces of those who butchered our friends. I would have been killed too if you all hadn’t dragged me back. Anypony tries that again and I’ll gut him as I would a rebel. We are soldiers of Equestria. We do not flee. Who wants to live forever, anyway?” Styles said, earning some laughter from those gathered around, “We take no quarter, and we show no mercy. Expect none in return. Company! With me!”

The crowd gave a mighty cheer then, and Terramar watched Styles fix his helmet onto his head, solid bronze with that mahogany crest.

Styles glanced again at Terramar, before he turned toward the bank, sliding down the mud and snow towards the river below.

The pegasi and hippogriffs took flight to avoid the current, bolting across the river to the north bank, where they threw themselves up against the bank’s edge.

There was little movement in the woods there, and Styles wondered how much land the enemy had gained. He passed by the three ponies he had killed earlier, before he took his first steps into the ice-cold water.

Terramar did not fly with the other hippogriffs, deciding instead to suffer the icy waters along with the unicorns and earth ponies.

When Styles reached the shore, Terramar remained beside him, and they followed the fliers to the bank’s edge, where they climbed up onto the snowy ridge where the Wolfswood began again.

Styles moved quickly despite the armor he wore. Terramar’s own armor was clunky and kept catching on stray brush and sticks.

The entire company stormed the bank in pursuit of Styles, whose horn was raised. Styles was first to break over the other bank, trudging over wet, dead leaves to find traction in the snow.

He lowered his pace to a jog, as he scanned the woods ahead. Wherever the frost pony sharpshooters had positioned themselves, they had since abandoned their posts. Terramar glanced at Styles nervously. They’ve fled already. Now we have to turn back.

But Styles would not be undone; his blood was too hot and he could not even consider taking one step anywhere but forward.

“Quickly now, follow me,” Styles said, and Terramar felt as light as air then. His teeth were chattering and his bones felt brittle in the cold, but he followed after Styles all the same.

The entire company broke through the woods behind them, all with their arms at the ready. But there was no sign of the enemy, beyond the occasional scattering of hoof prints.

Then Terramar saw Styles go alert, and he saw it too - up ahead in a clearing, behind a boulder was the unmistakable glimmer of sun against steel. A helmet, Terramar realized. Styles’ horn had already ignited, and the blast of fire that followed seared through stray branches and thorn-bushes before reaching its target. The helmet disintegrated upon impact, and the sound of metal crashing into the snow gave Styles the assurance he needed that he had made his mark.

Styles approached the boulder with his horn still alight, while his soldiers followed behind. Terramar kept glancing over his shoulder, keeping his claw near his scabbard at all times.

Styles inched his way around the boulder. He might have expected a second hidden foe, or merely the charred remains of his latest victim. But he found instead a suit of empty armor, its helmet burned to a crisp.

Styles lifted his head, slowly, and Terramar’s eyes went wide. The air turned paper thin then, quiet and sharp and ice cold.

Then the horn came, that cruel crooning bellow, that shook the snow off the trees and all the courage out of Terramar’s heart.

The Frost Ponies fell upon them from all sides. From the trees came pegasi wielding spears and axes. From the creek-beds came the pikeponies and spellcasters, and from behind the boulders and moss came reindeer, their antlers sharpened and pointed.

“Together! Turn!” Styles roared, though there was no formation that could have been made then, not when the pegasi began vaulting down from the sky, throwing their spears as they flew or dragging royals up into the air, only to drop them down from terrible heights.

Terramar saw a reindeer impale one of his hippogriffs, Rough Waters was his name, right through the chest, swinging him back and forth until he died. Terramar saw a War Boy catch fire by a unicorn’s spell; he ran to douse himself in the river, but he could not find where it was.

He was surrounded by screaming, such an ear-splitting cacophony that he wanted nothing more than to fly away. A pony collapsed from the air right in front of him, landing on his neck.

Many of the hippogriffs and royal pegasi soldiers had taken flight again to do battle with the rebels mid-air, and whenever one would fall they tended to land on somepony else, so packed was the battle below.

Terramar fell backwards over a root when an ax-wielding maniac ran past. He would have been impaled by a rebel right then, if Styles hadn’t come to his rescue, blasting the pony through the chest. Indeed, it was Styles who most of the rebels meant to kill; eight had tried so far and none had succeeded. Styles seemed to be searching for Prince Broadwing, who was no doubt close by.

“This was a trap!” Terramar remarked, “We have to turn back!”

Styles glanced at him, catching his breath and dodging a stray arrow.

“Don’t run,” Styles commanded, “Stay by me.”

Terramar would have argued, but a rebel was already upon him. The knight came thundering down on him, swinging a spiked ball of a morningstar around his head. Terramar raised his shield, but partially too late; his left foreleg knee exploded with pain as the spikes punched through his armor around the joint. His own sword was gone, as fast as that. He clawed for it in the dirt, but the morningstar was circling again, soaring down towards his face. Terramar rolled onto his side and tried to find his footing, but pain shuddered through him and the world went black for a moment. Terramar fought to his knees as he heard the knight laughing. He fumbled for a weapon, a sword, a knife, anything. Terramar stared up at the knight, whose spiked ball swung lazily, as if he were toying with him. Terramar’s claws were numb, his vision blurred, his scabbard empty. Terramar gave a hideous scream then, as he looked at this pony and chose to see the twisted face of King Pharynx instead, King Pharynx, who had stolen his sister and brought his family to ruin. He ran towards the knight and tackled him to the ground, at such ferocious speed that the knight could not defend himself in time. The next Terramar knew, his visor was packed with mud and something was crushing his claw. He scraped the mud off his helm so he could see again. The knight had fallen over a rock jutting out from the snow, shattering part of his spine. The knight would not walk, that was plain, and he stared up at Terramar in shock and horror. “Yield,” Terramar said, fumbling at the ground for a sword.

“I yield,” the knight replied.

Dazed, Terramar lifted his blade and rose to his hooves and claws, leaving the knight there. Pain hammered through his knee when he moved his leg. The battle seemed to have moved beyond him. No one remained in this part of the woods save a large number of corpses. Crows were already circling overhead to feed. He saw where the battle had moved, not far from here. And then another horn came, rattling his heart inside his muddied armor. Terramar leaned on a tree, exhausted. Had more of these rebels come to finish them off? Where was Styles? He had to find him. He had to help him.

But it was not the rebel horn, he realized, it was that of Snowfall Glitter, from there across the river bank. They had come! They had come to save them! Terramar laughed aloud at the sound, and he found his strength again. He saw the royals struggling on the slopes of the bank. He took a breath and ran out to meet them, still grinning. He did not even feel the cold anymore.

He did not feel the prick in his neck, either. The most painful part only lasted a second, and then a strange feeling came through his mind, only so briefly, before the thought left him. There was blood in his mouth, and some awful soreness in his neck. He hardly realized he had fallen to his knees. In the cold air the wound was smoking. “Silver,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. When the second bolt took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the third arrow. Only the cold.

Dead limbs hung from dead trees, near where Broadwing leaned upon his sword and wiped the blood from his face. The drums were so near that the beat crept under his skin and set his hooves to twitching. Esther ignited her horn. Suddenly the enemy was there before them, boiling over the river ridge, advancing with measured speed behind a wall of shields and pikes.

Luna be damned, look at them all, Broadwing thought, though he knew Shining had more ponies out past the field. A warhorn blew. The rebel trumpets answered, brazen and defiant, though it seemed in comparison to be smaller, more anxious. Broadwing could feel a fluttering in his gut, and he dreaded to die sick.

As the horns faded, a hissing filled the air; flights of arrows arched up from his right, where the rebel archers stood flanking the river. The royals broke out into a run as they fell deep upon the forest, shouting as they came, but the rebel arrows fell on them like a hailstorm, hundreds of arrows, what felt like thousands, and shouts turned to screams as ponies stumbled and fell. By then a second flight was in the air, and the archers were knocking their thirds to their bowstrings.

The trumpets blared again. Ivan the Elder waved his antlers in the air and bellowed a command, and a thousand other voices screamed back at him. Blackburn was beside him, his horn glowing black. Broadwing spread his wings, and turned back to those in the company who had prevailed against the War Boys. “The river!” the prince roared, “Hew to the river!”

Windchill was at his side, and Mulberry and Esther and a hundred more, collecting what supplies they could carry and leaping over the frozen creek beds to make for the north bank of the Silent River.

And at that steep decline, where the dirt ridge broke into a steep drop to the riverbank, a crescent of enemy spearponies had climbed up from the waters below, a great beast bristling with steel, orderly behind tall oaken shields marked with pairs of angel’s wings or half-suns. Blackburn was the first to reach them, leading a wedge of armored veterans, among them the vengeful reindeer prince. Broadwing watched thirty or forty die then, sharp steel points ribbing and ripping through their chests. Blackburn himself had to rear at the last moment, lashing out with his iron-shod hooves as a barbed spearhead raked across his neck. Maddened, Prince Ivan lunged into the ranks, crashing his antlers aside to clear his path. Spears thrust at him from every side, but the shield wall broke beneath his weight. The royals stumbled away from the reindeer prince’s death throes, and as he fell, snorting blood and biting with his last red breath, Blackburn rose nearby, his horn glowing sable black.

Windchill went bursting past Blackburn through the gap before the shields could close, and the rest of Broadwing’s company came hard behind her. “After me! After me!” Broadwing yelled, though most of them were ahead of him by then. He glimpsed Brazier get back up after stumbling, saw a spellcaster impaled on a royal spear, watched Red Rivet shatter a pony’s ribs with a kick. A flight of arrows descended on them; where they came from Broadwing could not say, but they fell on royal and rebel alike, rattling off armor and finding flesh. Broadwing raised his shield over his head and hid beneath it.

The royal shield wall was crumbling, as they reeled back under the impact of the assault. Broadwing saw the yak prince, Rutger, catch a spearpony full in the chest as the fool came on at a run, saw his ax shear through mail and leather and muscle and lungs. The pony was dead on his hooves, the ax lodged in his chest, yet Rutger ran on, cleaving a shield in two with his second ax while the corpse was bouncing and stumbling bonelessly along on his right. Finally the dead pony slid off. Rutger waved his axe in the air with his hoof and roared.

By then the enemy was on him, and Broadwing’s battle shrunk to the few feet of ground he had to him. A pony-at-arms thrust at his chest and his axe lashed out, knocking the spear aside. The pony danced back for another try, but Broadwing flew up and pummeled him with a crash landing, riding right over him. Windchill was nearby, surrounded by three foes, but she lopped the head off the first spear that came at her, and drew her blade across a second pony’s face on her backslash.

A thrown spear came hurtling towards Broadwing from the left, and lodged into a tree with a woody thunk. He wheeled and raced after the thrower, but the pony raised his own shield over his head. Broadwing circled around him, raining sword-blows down on the wood. Chips of oak went flying, until the royal soldier lost his hooves and slipped, falling flat on his back with his shield on top of him. “I yield!” the soldier cried. But the words were lost on Broadwing, who was driven with wrath, and he stuck his sword into the soldier’s neck while the soldier lay disoriented, and left him there to bleed out.

“For Twilight!” he heard ponies shout, “For Canterlot!”

“Cadance!” roared some other ponies, “Shining! Cadance! The Empire!”

Broadwing stumbled down the muddy bank, now runny with blood, and saw the rest of Snowfall Glitter’s auxiliaries rush through the icy waters. The river was a frenzy of foam, where the soldiers met each other waist-deep, swinging swords into the splashing waters.

Shining Armor’s forces must have arrived from the north, as he saw the changeling drones and imperial infantry barrel down the bank, roaring and ripping through the quiet current to catch the royals mid-crossing.

And from a ways away downstream, Broadwing had to wipe blood out of his eyes to confirm what he saw - that old mahogany crest was unmistakable, as was the bronze set of armor the pony wore, with two sets of warm-brown leather faulds and vambraces of thick brown leather. And the arrows he wore now, lodged right in the steel, which was scratched and dented and drenched.

“Styles!” Broadwing roared, breathlessly. The gruesome scene at the Galloping Gorge was all he could think of then, and he needed nothing more than revenge.

But Broadwing did not find Styles first; Shining Armor had, clad in his shimmering dark-silver armor, his horn alight. Broadwing saw the glow of the prince’s horn reflected in the water, where the two met, there in the icy shallows of the river.

Both stallions were grizzled, bloodied, bruised and out of breath when they found each other, and far too exhausted for anything in the way of grandiose speeches. Styles could only smirk, as smirking came so naturally to him, and Shining Armor merely brightened his horn and wiped his mouth. He would not enjoy this, Shining knew, but he would not balk.

The first flash of purple light blinded all unfortunate enough to gaze upon it, and the crack of thunder that followed let all the Wolfswood know that Styles had not yet been slain, as countless ponies had been claiming. The purple fire was a beacon of renewal, and the royals discovered a new kind of vigor, rallying behind their captains to reform their shield walls and hedgehogs and columns near the bank, while the royals replenished themselves with more reserves from beyond the woods. There was no sign of Snowfall herself, though.

So rose and purple clashed, and each exchanged such mighty blows that they pierced through the shields at their sides and tore their helms; Shining’s aura lanced with sharp precision and burst on impact into crystalline shards, while Styles’ magic favored the tufts and wisps of otherworldly fire, that dissolved, corrupted and destroyed all it touched. Their helmets were dented and bent, and links of mail flew from their hauberks amid much loss of blood. Strips of leather and metal were incinerated or set alight. But it was Styles who landed the most devastating blow, and with it Shining’s helmet was smashed, and he was left stunned and weakened, stumbling and faltering and blind for the blood draining down over his eyes.

It was then that Broadwing knew the Crystal Prince was surely going to die, when Styles, whose face was black with mud and who wore a set of arrows still lodged in his armor near his neck and thighs, ignited his horn. He smirked when he faced his adversary, but his eyes betrayed him; Broadwing did not see contempt there, but regret, and for a moment he even thought Styles would show mercy. But Broadwing himself could not risk as much, and so he fought twice, three times as hard to shove his way through the crowd. He swung his blade so hard and so fast that the soldier in his way did not even see the blade before it tore into the mail around his neck. It was his own pony, some Frost Pony squire, Broadwing realized, but too late, and he continued on towards Shining Armor.

And Broadwing fell upon Styles without much more delay, barreling into him hard enough to knock him down the hill into the sea of corpses, where the survivors made their tired swings and thrusts. Styles grunted as he fell, landing hard down a slope of slick rock. Broadwing’s sword had slashed against Styles’ collarbone, and he knew so by the fresh blood left on the sword. But Broadwing did not chase Styles into the crowds, instead he fell beside Shining, who was his friend, bleeding and lying there in the frozen mud.

Broadwing pulled away the helm that had been crushed, and he saw the result of Styles’ strike. Shining’s snout had been battered by the metal, and his whole face was inflamed and slick with blood. But the prince was breathing, steadily enough, and Broadwing felt like weeping there at his side, cradling the prince as if he was his own brother, and right then he thought he might as well have been.

His world was only the shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard-mail hewn, shield-breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash of battle-axes on shattered helms, and shrieks after Celestia, after Cadance, after Twilight Sparkle, and shouts, oaths, insults, filth, and monstrous blasphemies, writhings, anguish, laboring lungs, and crying for the light, groans of the dying, and voices of the dead.

The Silent River was silent no more, for all those cries of anguish and agony, and the taunts of the crows that had begun circling overhead, perching on the frozen tree limbs of the grey winter wood.

Broadwing had held Shining Armor there in the waters for what felt like years, before all that surrounded him were his own troops. He had watched them carry the prince off to be treated, and after, the rebels pursued the fleeting remnants of the royal host back into the southern stretch of the woods, from where they had emerged. He did not know what had become of Styles, whose failure to kill either prince cost the royals much of their courage.

Windchill had found him there, still kneeling in the river, when most of the fighting forces had already taken off for the woods. She had no strength to speak, but she hugged him, and they found some warmth together, both soaked and half-submerged in the frozen water.

Together they went searching for more of their company, and many they found among the dead, who were as numerous in the Wolfswood as the fallen leaves. Brazier lay in a pool of congealing blood, his foreleg gone at the knee, a dozen enemies sprawled around him. Mulberry was slumped beneath a tree, riddled with arrows, with Saltwater Taffy’s head in his lap. Broadwing thought they were both dead, but as he strode past, Mulberry’s eyes opened and he said, “They’ve killed Taffy.” Poor Taffy had no mark but for the red stain over his chest, where the spear thrust had killed him. When Windchill pulled Mulberry to his hooves, only then did he seem to notice the arrows. He plucked them out one by one, yowling like an infant at the few that had buried themselves deep. Esther strode up as they were helping yank arrows out of Mulberry. Aleheart and Ferris they discovered looting the bodies of the slain. Of the three hundred Frost Ponies he had come here with, perhaps half had survived.

Broadwing and his companions found Shining Armor near the edge of the wood, where an impromptu medical encampment had been set up. Broadwing would have heard the screams of the dying, if not for the thunderous cheers of all hale rebels present, numbering in the hundreds; more there were still pursuing the withered enemy, but here stood enough to savor this triumph, and hail the pony who had saved the prince’s life.

Broadwing knelt before his prince, who lay abed surrounded by doctors and servants. Shining Armor was awake, wincing with each thread of the doctor’s needle. His face was bloody pulp, but his eyes were open, albeit strained and sore.

“It’s me who should be kneeling,” Shining smiled, weakly, “The days is ours, and my life, yours. Nopony could know a better friend, Broadwing.”

“I only did my duty, my prince,” Broadwing said, at a loss for words.

“Snowfall's making her last stand deeper in the wood. She won’t last long. You should go there, make sure she’s taken alive. Styles as well,” Shining said.

“...Alive, my prince?”

“We treat our prisoners with respect,” Shining said, “Even ponies like him.”

“As you wish,” Broadwing said.

“Once I can move, I’ll be returning to the Crystal City,” Shining decided, “I need to see my daughter one last time before we march on Canterlot. I need time to heal, as well, unless you’d like to depose my sister without me.”

“Take as long as you need,” Broadwing said.

“You’re in command now,” Shining said, “It was your decision that won us the victory today, and your actions that saved my life. There is none worthier.”

Broadwing was speechless, struggling to contain himself. He was practically shaking, and not just for the cold.

“You honor me, my prince,” Broadwing said, “And what of the prisoners?”

“Send Styles back with me,” Shining said, “There is no prison that can hold him long, it’s said, but the Crystal dungeons might. If he’s left with you he’ll cause you nothing but trouble.”

“I’m well rid of him,” Broadwing said, “And Snowfall?”

Shining paused to consider.

“Keep her at your side, as proof of our victory. Rally the rest of the Highlands, and find what allies you can. Equestria’s eyes were on us today, and when they see her in chains they may find the hope they had lost. We won a great victory here today, but Canterlot is something else entirely. Nopony has ever successfully taken the city and held it for long, in all of Equestria’s history.”

“History is about to change,” Broadwing said.

Shining nodded.

“Then there's the matter of the hippogriffs,” Shining thought aloud.

“What of them?”

“We’ve just killed their prince.”

“....He’s dead?” Broadwing asked, saddened.

“Some stray arrows,” Shining said, somberly, “I fear his father may withdraw his support, once he hears of this.”

“Not while we have his daughter bound to us,” Broadwing assured.

“Until the priest says the words and she’s wed to that changeling prince,” Shining said, “We don’t really have her.”

Juno was high on the ridge, and the trees hid most of what was going on beneath her. A heartbeat, two, four, and suddenly it was if she and the others were alone in the woods. The rest melted away into the green.

Yet when she looked across the valley to the far ridge, she saw Snowfall Glitter’s lancers emerge from the darkness beneath the trees, only for a moment before they disappeared again into shadow. They were in a long line, an endless line, and as they burst from the wood there was an instant, the smallest part of a heartbeat, when all Juno saw was the moonlight on the points of their spears, as if a thousand willow-wisps were darting down the ridge, wreathed in silver fire.

Then she blinked, and they were only ponies, rushing down to kill or die.

Afterward, she could not claim she had seen the battle. Yet she could hear, and the whole river valley rang with echoes. The crack of a broken lance, the clash of swords, the cries of “Cadance” and “Twilight” and “Broadwing! Rhinefrost and Broadwing!’ When she realized there was no more to see, she closed her eyes and listened. The battle came alive around her. She heard hoofbeats, iron soles splashing in shallow water, the woody sound of swords splintering oaken shields and the scrape of steel against steel, the hiss of arrows, the thunder of drums, the terrified screams of a thousand ponies.

Little by little, the sounds dwindled and died, and a red dusk broke in the west. She set off back to the camp with those other squires who had ventured with her to watch the battle; she had been eager to put distance between her and wherever Coda might be lurking.

But with the setting sun, the ponies they found back back at the camp were not ones she recognized. Most wore silver armor that glimmered with moonlight. Some were not ponies at all, but moose and yaks and reindeer and changelings, creatures she had never seen before. They hardly paid the squires notice, as they were all too small to garner much attention. She was more afraid of running into Captain Coda, than she was of these rebels. He had to be lurking somewhere nearby, searching for her. She made sure to keep close to the rebels; as soon as they caught a glimpse of Coda they’d take care of him, she hoped.

Her and the other camp dwellers made no attempt to fight. The soldiers who had been tasked to guard the camp threw down their spears without much hesitation, the moment they saw the Frost Prince breach the Wolfswood with an army at his back.

Juno hid in the shadow of a tent to watch the parade pass through. The Frost Prince’s shield was slashed half to pieces, raw wood showing where deep gouges had been hacked into, but the prince himself seemed unhurt. Yet when he came closer, she saw that his mailed boot and the sleeve of his surcoat were black with blood.

The Frost Prince stopped in the middle of the camp, where crowds of his own soldiers began to form. Most of them had been in the midst of looting the camp; Juno had seen five rebels raid Snowfall’s command tent, returning with food and booze and warm coats to dry themselves off in.

From the crowd, Juno saw the Frost Prince and his retainers had with them a prisoner, though Juno did not recognize her until she was dragged closer.

It was Snowfall Glitter who the rebels were dragging, her hooves wrapped in black iron chains, her horn encased in a solid steel sheath fixed with absolutely no room to breathe. Juno felt her heart sink at the sight of her; the commander’s once fair snow white coat was now soiled in dirt, mud, blood, and bruises. Her mane was a tangled mess of ash of filth. There was a black and purple gash near her neck, and her left hind leg was completely broken. She could not possibly have been able to walk, which explained why the rebels had opted to drag her behind them.

Juno watched one of the rebels kick Snowfall so hard in the side that she could hear the crack all the way from where she stood. Juno wanted to run and save her somehow, but she stopped herself. Her father’s voice was pounding in her head. Be smart. For Luna’s sake. Be smart. She watched the Frost Prince reprimanded the rebel, though he hardly seemed concerned for Snowfall, who was writhing in pain in the mud.

“Traitor!” yelled a rebel.

“Whore!" added another. A hoofful of mud splashed into Snowfall’s face, though Juno quickly realized it had not been mud.

A new mob of ponies followed the prince up the slope, dirty and dented and grinning, as a crowd continued to form in the center of the camp. Between them they dragged Lieutenant Commander Styles. They threw him down in front of the prince.

“I give you the Bronze Fury,” a rebel announced, unnecessarily. The rebels gave a mocking cheer then, raising their spears and swords and laughing.

Styles raised his head to face the Frost Prince. “Your highness,” he croaked from his knees. Blood ran down one cheek from a gash across his scalp, and the red of the sun made his mane come alive with light.

Juno saw Snowfall smile from the ground, as she tried to sit herself up in the dirt. Another kick sent her falling face-first again into the mud.

“You leave her be,” Styles warned, “I can take enough for two anyway, especially if you’re the one throwing the punches. Clever boy, more clever than your oaf of a father, Celestia rest his soul. Now, how formal do you want this to be? I would offer you my sword, but I seem to have lost it.””

“...It’s not your sword I want,” the prince told him, “It’s Cadance. Where is she?”

“I’ve lost her as well, I fear.”

“A pity,” the prince said, coldly.

“Kill him, son,” urged one of the rebels, the one whose horn glowed black, “Take his head and send it back to Twilight Sparkle.”

The rebel Highlanders who were present there gave a great cry of support then; Juno had learned that it was Styles who had slain their former leader, the one called Stonehoof, some weeks ago.

“No,” the Frost Prince answered, “Shining said no more blood was to be spilled. And he’s more use alive than dead, anyway.”

“Ah, Shining. A wise pony,” Styles said, “And honorable. Maybe one day you’ll try to follow his example, Broadwing.”

“Take him away and put him in irons,” Prince Broadwing commanded, “And gag him - it’s a long trip to the Crystal Empire, after all,” Juno saw Styles’ grin drop for a moment, when he caught Snowfall’s gaze. She was left there in the mud, while Styles was dragged off by his hind legs, scraping his flesh against the gravel.

Broadwing glanced around at those gathered, and down at Snowfall.

“Thus always to tyrants,” he said, before sticking his hoof on top of Snowfall’s head, pressing her into the mud. The crowd gave a mighty cheer then. Juno felt her eyes well up with tears. I have to help her! But she was frozen in place, surrounded on all sides by these battle-lusty brutes.

“The Crystal Empire will once again stand on its own, free from the dominion of the marble throne in Canterlot,” Broadwing said, before glancing down at Snowfall, still under his heel, “Equestria is destroyed. But the Empire will prevail. The North is saved, but the real war has just begun. We are to march south, rescue Princess Cadance, and crown her as the sovereign of a free and independent North!”

The crowds roared in approval, while Juno shrunk and shriveled away. Her chance was still there, but she would have to act fast.

Juno threw off her royal armor, tossing it into one of the bonfires that had been started by the rebels. A prisoner caravan passed by her then, and she scoured the line for Tails or Poundcake, but she found neither of them. They made it out. I know they did. She had no time to search for them. Coda could be close. He could be blending in with the rebels, even. He could be any of them!

Juno kept her distance from the prisoners, but followed them as they were led to the other side of the camp. And there was where she found just the pony she had been in search of. Styles had been left on his knees, his face wrapped with a green rag to silence and blind him. He’s off to the Crystal City. And I am too. She watched him be dragged up into the back of a closed-carriage, and she broke off after him.

Climbing under the flap of the canvas covering in the back of the carriage, she found the carriage interior was nearly pitch-black. Other royal prisoners were stowed there, too, locked up in huge cages. Most of them had been knocked out cold, except for Styles, who had not heard her sneak inside. She kept herself tucked in the shadows by some dusty crates, and she grabbed at her legs to keep them from slipping out past the flaps. Nopony had seen her, she thought, otherwise she’d be getting dragged through the mud right now. She heard Styles grunt and slump over in his irons, defeated, and she considered helping him, but stayed where she was when the carriage began moving. She had never been able to imagine him in such a state.

Despite the horrors of the day, she wanted to smile to herself; she was finally on her way to the Empire. There, she would find Sunset Shimmer. There, she would have revenge.

Charcoal-colored clouds sauntered overhead, fragile enough to sometimes reveal the frozen pockets of white-light stars that lay beyond, and the heavens once hidden. Rogue flurries of snow followed after those brief glimpses of starlight, tossing and twisting in the mountain breeze.

Up on the high hill that looked down on the town of Aquila, the great manse sat, in all its warm grandeur. On its front side were huge arched windows, with frames of intricate ironwork and gold finishes. Its roofline swept up in graceful curves, crowned with turrets that brushed against the sky, clothed in copper and adorned with orange lantern light. Towering double-doors marked the entrance, made of a rich, deep mahogany, carved and lined with gold. A great balcony sat right above the doors, fixed with a swirling marble railing and iron cages of torchlight.

The great fountain that stood further on from the front steps of the entrance was surrounded by carriages and creatures of all kinds.

Behind the manse was the great gardens, where rows of white seats had been arranged to face a great white platform set up beneath a huge archway, wreathed in ivy and pink flowers. A lantern-lit path led from the back of the manse to the archway, parting the sea of chairs. At the edges of the gardens were tables for creatures to sit and dine, where servants and soldiers stood at the ready.

Wallflower Blush watched the garden flood with creatures, nervously playing with her curls. Glimpsing through a bronze-grated window on the second story, Wallflower watched as hundreds and hundreds of guests made their way into the garden, downing their drinks and finding their seats and laughing at the tops of their lungs. The black and white squares of the corridor floor were stained gold from all the torches, so bright that Wallflower feared she would easily be spotted if anypony below was merely to glance up. So she kept herself to the edge of the window, right beside the spotless suit of armor that had been put on display. Nopony would notice her, she assured herself, the party was all downstairs, after all.

Wallflower made note of a few of the guests she saw - there was Spider Silk, White Tea Rose, Hollyhock, and Glover, the mayors of Stratusburg, Capricorn, Amapola, and Aquila, respectively. Ophelia, the Lady of Starhaven, and her sister Amulette were present as well, as was Lady Primrose, mother of the Frost Prince.

As for the changeling dignitaries, there was Frenulum, one of the royal courtiers and a dear friend of the former king, and beside him was Urtica, the changelings’ royal historian. There were just about as many ponies as there were changelings, though they each kept to their own side of the aisle - changelings on the left, ponies on the right.

“Hey.”

Wallflower flinched and spun around, unwittingly brushing her tail against the suit of armor, sending it crashing to the ground with a thunderous clang.

Sunset Shimmer held her hoof to her mouth to stop herself from laughing, while Wallflower stared with wide eyes, frozen.

“Don’t do that!” Wallflower hissed, rubbing her forehead and wondering if she should even bother trying to set the suit of armor back in place.

“Not too much longer to wait. All's calm,” Sunset assured.

When the Erased had promised Suri all the resources she needed to put together some new outfits, no expense had been spared. Sunset’s gown was silk and satin, and deep pink, warm and soft like an evening sky just before the stars were to emerge. The dress was woven like the petals of a dusky rose, cutting off around her shoulders.

Wallflower had opted to wear the same billowing, lacy gown she had worn to the gala, with its satin corset and tufts of flowery silks that wrapped around her shoulders. Her wily curls had been strung up, though the more Wallflower kept playing with Suri’s work, the more it came undone.

“You’re sure nopony will come up here?” Wallflower asked, nervously. Agent Lackluster and other Erased ponies were supposed to be keeping an eye out for them, though she was not sure she could trust them.

“Positive. All the fun’s down there. Don’t start worrying until after things go to shit. Not before,” Sunset advised.

Sunset dug through Wallflower’s purse to retrieve their radio, flipping on a switch and extending the antennae using her teeth.

“Suri, you there?” Sunset whispered into it. A brief trail of static was her reply, until a click came at the other end, and a yawn.

“...I’m in the kitchen. I can’t talk long. They’re trying to make me do work,” Suri groaned from the other end. Suri had taken on the role of one of the countless servants, complete with a modest black dress and white apron. She had not been happy about the assignment, though Sunset insisted she needed somepony who could get close to the guests without having to talk to anypony.

“Work? You? They’ll find that to be an impossible task,” Sunset grinned.

“I just spent all day making that dress for you, ‘kay? I’m tired. Oh Luna be good. Somepony spilled an entire bottle of wine…I’ll be right back,” Suri said.

“Lightning, what about you?” Sunset asked.

Again, for a moment there was only static, until the click came again. Lightning had been assigned to take the place of one of the crystal soldiers, posted somewhere along the edges of the garden.

“Hey boss. All’s good down here,” Lightning reported, her voice slightly distorted from over the radio, “I hope that dress is more comfortable than this armor.”

“Trust me. It’s not,” Sunset said.

“Don’t blame me,” came Suri over the radio, “Couldn’t exactly do much with the cheap material I was given.”

“What happened to the wine spill?” Sunset asked.

“Oh. I made that up,” Suri’s voice replied.

“The dresses are great, Suri,” Wallflower said, softly.

“Easy for you to say, yours isn’t suffocating you,” Sunset growled.

“If you all keep bickering, you’re gonna get found out,” came Moon Dancer’s voice from over the radio.

“Oh, look who decided to chime in,” Lightning’s voice groaned, “Must be nice and cozy in that carriage, huh four-eyes?”

“It really is, actually,” Moon Dancer replied.

“Any sign of our competition? Or the groom?” Sunset asked.

“Nothing unusual so far,” Moon Dancer said, With the Erased’s surveillance equipment linked to her own systems in her carriage, Moon Dancer had eyes on mostly every angle of the mansion.

“Everypony just keep a cool head. The prince won’t miss his own wedding. We just gotta stay alert, and stay calm, and-” Sunset began.

“Fuck me,” Lightning’s voice said.

Sunset glanced at Wallflower, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Sunset asked.

“I….Fuck…I…” Lightning stuttered, “I see somepony. Somepony I know.”

“Who?” Sunset asked.

“....Rainbow Dash.” Lightning whispered, “That’s fucking Rainbow Dash!”

From the window, Wallflower scanned the crowds below. But nowhere did she see anypony with Rainbow’s trademark six-color mane.

“Where? I don’t see her,” Wallflower said, loud enough to be heard over the radio.

“Her mane -- she dyed her mane. But that’s her. That’s her!” Lightning said, baffled.

“Why would Rainbow Dash be here?” Sunset asked, “Are you sure?”

“Guys, I’m telling you, that’s her,” Lightning said.

“OK….Where’s she going?” Sunset asked, hesitantly.

“Uh…Uh, she’s heading your way! Inside, I mean. She’s with somepony, too,” Lightning said, “Some guy, I don’t recognize him…Should I go after them?”

“No,” Sunset said, “Stay where you are. I’ll go check it out.”

Sunset switched off the radio and glanced at Wallflower.

“Be careful,” Wallflower warned.

“Back at ya,” Sunset smiled, before speeding off towards the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Wallflower began playing with her mane again, anxiously, and glanced back out the window. More and more guests were arriving, soldiers too.

In the crowds, a flash of green caught her gaze, and she navigated from head to head to find whose eyes it belonged to. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Those eyes. I know those eyes. She found the pony again after another scan. The armor the pony wore was not gold like how she remembered it, but black now, only a few shades darker than the standard crystal soldier’s armor. Her plume was pinkish-red, her coat dark velvet, but it was her eyes that Wallflower recognized best of all - sharp, cold, glassy like a serpent’s. Redshift. Wallflower had hoped the town’s firewall spell would have kept Redshift out somehow, though if Sunset had gotten in, then Redshift surely could have, too. Wallflower reached for her radio to call Sunset, only to realize that Sunset had taken it with her.

Panicking, Wallflower began tapping her hooves, struggling to think of what to do. I can't just stand here! But she was too afraid to budge an inch opting instead to peer back out the window, and hope that Sunset would return soon.

Rainbow Dash had followed Blondie into the washroom, taking care to lock the door behind them.

“Do I have the butterfly knife? Or did I give that to you?” Blondie asked.

Rainbow retrieved the blade from its hiding place in her garter belt, flipping the blade out and grinning. Blondie nodded in approval, as he began unloading his suit jacket and pockets, laying out more knives, and even a miniature axe.

Rainbow, similarly, undid her mane to spring free a thin needle like knife, and two pull-out blades from underneath her heels. Blondie stuck his weapons into his belt for easier access. Rainbow, likewise, stuck her effects into her bag, though kept a few blades hidden in her dress, that wrapped around her hips, which fit snugly, but loose enough for her to maintain some degree of agility.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

They exited together, foreleg in foreleg. She wondered if Blondie enjoyed playing the role of a couple as much as she had begun to.

The third story of the mansion seemed completely deserted; the corridor torches had never been lit, and they were so high up now that the sounds of the crowds outside came only as quiet murmurs.

“Whatever happens,” Blondie said, as they made toward the end of the hall, where thin streams of orange light bled out from the cracks of locked double doors. The closer they crept towards the door, the brighter the light became. “...You and I stick together.”

“And Salt?” Rainbow asked.

Blondie’s face seemed to tighten.

“We’re his friends,” Blondie said, “But I’m still not sure he’s ours. Not if a better deal comes his way. We can’t let him sell the case. We can’t. No matter what. ”

Rainbow glanced at him, hesitantly.

“I’m with you,” Rainbow said, though she dreaded to think of what that meant.

Blondie reached the door first, swinging it open, and with a deep breath Rainbow was thrown into a pool of warm candle light. After her eyes adjusted, she saw the room itself, a lounge of sorts with a pool table, a bar in the corner, couches, chairs, bookcases that touched the ceiling. A crimson carpet lay in front of the roaring fireplace, which cast the whole room in dim furnace light. There were candles resting on every table, on the walls, by the bar, by the windows, at least forty in all. Blondie twitched at the sight.

“Ah, there you two are,” came Salt Shaker, sitting on one of the couches in front of the fireplace. Beside him were some of his Manehattan friends, Machine Gun, Wheels, Cottonmouth, and a few others.

Prince Malthos sat on the other side of the fireplace, guarded on either side by four changeling praetorians. And seated right beside him was Brandy Bow, who had her hooves wrapped firmly around the case, pressing it against her chest. She had guards of her own, of course, a pair of twins, two brutish earth ponies, called Rhythm and Rhyme.

Blondie and Brandy locked eyes immediately, though neither spoke, not yet. Blondie then glanced over his shoulder towards the bar, where he saw the One-Eyed Pony pouring himself a drink. Blondie saw the lighter lying on the bar, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the One-Eyed Pony, long enough for Brandy and Rainbow to both notice.

“As I was telling our friends here, we’d be remiss to begin without you,” Salt said, standing up for a moment while Blondie and Rainbow took their seats on the chairs opposite the fireplace, closer to the door and halfway between the distance of the two couches.

“Remember your side of the bargain,” Malthos said, his eyes darting nervously between Salt and Rainbow, “I don’t want anything to go wrong tonight. You’re going to make sure of that. Got it?”

“A deal is a deal,” Salt agreed.

Malthos bit his lip, and he began to twitch, before glancing at Brandy beside him.

“Give him the case,” Malthos said.

“My bits, first,” Brandy said, her voice thin like a pane of glass, “Nopony gets anything until I get my bits.”

Malthos grumbled something under his breath. He glanced at one of his guards, who promptly wheeled over a suitcase in front of her.

“Six million,” Malthos said.

Brandy zipped open the suitcase and expected its contents, approvingly. She retrieved a hoofful of the bits packed inside in orderly rows, and smiled to herself. Her eyes darted up towards Blondie.

After some hesitation, Brandy stood up to her hooves, and trotted towards Salt with the briefcase in her mouth.

“Easy on the goods,” Salt grinned, as Brandy set the case down in front of him. Salt’s hoof glided across its surface, as if he was embracing an old friend.

“My thanks, young lady,” Salt said, bowing his head, "How far you've come."

Brandy eyed him, uneasily, and zipped up her suitcase of bits. She had remained standing, and Malthos rose too.

“If I’m not wedded by the end of tonight,” Malthos said, “You three will be held responsible. And if that happens, that case won’t save you.”

“Your bride is waiting for you, highness,” Salt said, “Best not to keep her waiting.”

Malthos frowned and turned for the door. The praetorians followed suit.

Blondie glanced at Brandy, whose mouth began to twitch, whose hooves were trembling. He wanted nothing more than to run over to her, and hold her, and take her as far away from here as possible. But she would not have it so, and neither would Blondie. He hated that he wanted her to love him. But he wanted that. He wanted that cottage by the maple lake. He wanted Candle Light. He glanced at Salt and Rainbow, and he realized he was surrounded by candle light right then, but still he felt none of its warmth. She wasn't real. She was just part of his brother's plan. Ten, twenty, thirty or more, he saw the bits slipping through her hooves, one for each stallion she had, while he was made to sit and watch. I love you, she had said. I love your name. Dying Light. Light and Light. Nopony liked his name. Only she did. Would Brandy like his name, he wondered? Dying Light. He was laughing in his head. The light was long dead.

"Blondie," came Salt, snatching him away from his thoughts. Brandy had been staring at him, studying the look on his face. I'm just another monster in her eyes. But everypony else had been staring at the door, where the One-Eyed Pony stood. And from the dark of the hall outside, Jet Set had just arrived, and behind him Upper Crust, Fire Streak, and three other of their Canterlot aristocrat cohorts, all dressed in tailored suits and billowing gowns. Jet Set's eyes seemed to glow in the light.

The One-Eyed Pony shut the door behind them, and Brandy began backing up with the twins back towards the fireplace. Salt did his best to keep his composure, as his hoof tightened around the briefcase handle.

Smoothing out her pleated, white satin dress fixed with a lace bodice, Silver Stream wiped her eyes a final time before the doors of her chamber were dragged open. Her face was hidden underneath her veil, though she swore all of the creatures she passed could see how pale her face was, how badly she wanted to cry.

She could hardly remember having left her chamber or descending the steps or crossing into the garden. It seemed to take all her attention just to put one claw down in front of the other. Phasmid and Forewing, a changeling guard, walked beside her, in cloaks of crimson. King Pharynx himself was waiting for her on the steps of the manse’s rear entrance, which led right into the gardens where the ceremony was to be held. The king was resplendent in crimson and gold, but he wore no crown on his head. “Come,” he said.

Silver’s heart lurched. "Don't make me do this," she said, "There has to be another way."

Pharynx’s scowl seemed to soften then, but only for a fleeting moment.

“This is how the Hive will survive,” Pharynx said, “Come, now.”

Prince Malthos arrived at the steps beside them, accompanied by eight praetorians who promptly withdrew to their posts on either side of the aisle.

“Father,” he said, “Grant me a moment with Silver, if you would?”

Pharynx was about to refuse, until Princess Elytra stepped towards him to tug on his foreleg. She practically dragged him away with her towards the row of guards forming along the edge of the aisle.

Malthos wore a doublet of black velvet covered with golden scrollwork, thigh-high boots that added some inches to his height, a chain of rubies and emeralds. “You look amazing, Silver,” he told her.

“It’s good of you to say so,” Silver said. She did not know what else to say. Should I tell him he is handsome? He’ll think of me as a fool or a liar. She lowered her gaze and held her tongue.

“I’m sorry for this,” Malthos said, “You didn't ask for this, and you don't want it, I know. Let's do our duty.”

Once the crowds were all seated, a choir of changelings posing as foals began to sing near the archway platform. Malthos made his way down the aisle, ascending the platform. There was a sense of urgency to everypony’s movements. This wedding could not be delayed, Silver recalled. The priest began saying his words. Silver did not hear a single thing. When the time came for her to march down the aisle with Pharynx at her side in place of her real father, she felt as light as a ghost, weightless and flimsy and weak, drawn closer to that altar against her will.

From the altar, she saw Ocellus, looking at her with her big round eyes. There were other witnesses aplenty, hundreds at least. One young changeling girl in the crowd was sobbing for no apparent reason. Let her sob, Silver thought. Perhaps I’ll do the same before this day is done.

There were prayers and vows and singing, and tall candles burning, a hundred dancing lights that the tears in her eyes transformed into a thousand. No one seemed to notice she was crying as she stood there. They’re all looking at me, but none of them see me. A piece of meat to fawn over, Featherglass had told her, all those months ago. The priest began his final passage.

Hidden in the snow, Starlight Glimmer wore a black cloak and hood to hide her mane and horn, fastened by an amethyst jewel near her neck. She wore black scale armor to protect her chest, and around her hooves were pieces of silver knee armor and black band studded with iron.

Aquila was more of a military camp than a town now, Starlight thought. The firewall spell that protected it had not been easy to circumvent, though Starlight knew the right kind of counter-spell to slip inside undetected.

She arrived under cover of darkness, long after the crowds had begun flooding into the manse that sat upon the high hill overlooking the town, surrounded by a pine tree forest and frozen rivers.

She had positioned herself on top of one of the snow-covered turrets of the manse, so high up in the air that she could see the entirety of the garden below. She scoured the crowds for any sign of Sunset, Trixie, Lightning, or Suri, but there was no sign of them.

“I should have known you’d get the same idea.”

Starlight felt her spine turn cold.

Starlight spun around to find the draconequus hovering in the air, a delicious grin twisting onto his face. He snapped his claws, and in a flash of light Eight Ball arrived on the turret in front of her. He could not have been far from where Discord had teleported him; his mane and coat were speckled with snow.

“What the-..Starlight Glimmer?.” Eight Ball grunted, glancing up at Discord in disbelief.

Starlight had sprung to her hooves, her horn at the ready.

“Discord…What did you-” Eight Ball began, inching his way towards the turret’s edge.

“She came here of her own volition,” Discord laughed, “She must have missed me, no doubt.”

“You're here for the Orb," Starlight presumed.

"That and the scenery. You're looking well," Discord chirped.

"You left me for dead,” Starlight reminded.

“Who can say who left who exactly? I distinctly recall we had agreed to battle together against Twilight. Not Luna. There’s only five alicorns. How could you possibly mix them up? Oh, well, I guess there’s only four now, poor Celestia,” Discord snickered.

Starlight gritted her teeth. “Luna almost killed me.”

“Yet you survived. So I suppose you didn’t need me after all. And it wasn’t all for naught, either. Eight Ball, show her Star Swirl’s parting gift,” Discord said.

Eight Ball dug into his bag and revealed the Witch’s Wand, Star Swirl’s prized work. Discord claw flexed, and the wand magically ascended out of Eight Ball’s hoof up into Discord’s paw.

“You stole his wand?” Starlight stammered.

“With this, the Orb’s power can be harnessed. And together we can defeat Twilight once and for all,” Discord said.

“I…This isn’t right,” Starlight said.

Discord's smile faltered. Eight Ball tensed up.

“....Hm?” Discord chimed.

“I told you before, we can’t just kill Twilight. It’s not right,” Starlight stammered.

“Not right?” Discord laughed, “I'd hoped two brushes with death would have finally gotten you to see things clearly. I guess Luna was too easy on you."

Starlight sighed.

“All I’ve wanted to do since Twilight threw me in Hellhatch is to kill her. Every day that’s gone by I think of every way that I could have revenge, that I could make her suffer the way she made Ember, Thorax, and all of them suffer before they died. But if I do that, if I go through with it….I’ll never come back. I’m only one step behind turning into her, just like I’ve always been, except now instead it’s a path I know is wrong. If I cross that line, if I were to kill somepony…it would become too easy for me to do it again. I’d keep crossing it.”

“Why should you need to live with yourself?” Discord asked, “Why should your peace of mind matter more than all the suffering that she’s caused?”

“This isn’t about me,” Starlight said, “This is about harmony. Everypony’s abandoned it, but you’ll have to kill me before I do.”

“When your enemy throws out the rulebook, what advantage is there to playing fairly?” Discord asked.

“There’s a way to make things how they used to be,” Starlight said, “I thought like you do, when I went after Twilight, when I left all my friends behind. And I was wrong, and so are you. The world you pretend to care about will never come back if you turn yourself into her.”

Discord played with the wand in his claw.

“Right and wrong, good and evil…For all the thousands of years I’ve lived, I’ve seen these things change, flip, disappear completely. They’re not real, Starlight. Power is all that’s real. You and I, the Orb and the wand - nothing could withstand us. Not even Twilight. Only through me can you reshape the world back to how you want, and restore the memory of harmony you cling to so tightly. You could become a god like the alicorns, but one whose rule is worthy of Equestria’s worship, of its love. Is that not all you’ve ever wanted? To be loved like them? This is how you do it. No other way. Only me. Whether it's pride or cowardice, forget it all and join me.”

Starlight dug her hooves into the snow. She shivered, as another chill went through her. The murmurings of the crowds below seemed to disappear then, and she could hear nothing but her own breath, and see nothing but the golden glow of Discord’s eyes.

“No,” Starlight said at last, gritting her teeth, “I never should have trusted you. That’s never happening again. This is a serious power we’re meddling with here, and there’s no way I’m trusting you to do the right thing with the orb. Our partnership is at an end.”

Eight Ball glanced up at Discord, whose grin had finally vanished off his face.

“How disappointing,” Discord sighed.

“The wand. Hand it over,” Starlight commanded, taking a step forward.

Eight Ball’s hooves kicked snow off the edge of the turret. Discord’s claw snapped, and in a single blink a ring of blue fire erupted around the turret’s edges. Starlight steadied herself in the snow, and her horn ignited.

“Well that’s just precious…” Discord laughed, “Luna and Twilight weren’t enough for you? The wand is mine.”

Starlight gritted her teeth, and her horn glowed brighter.

“If you don’t hand it over, then I’m going to have to take it.”

Discord’s grin returned, and his eyes began to burn, furnace hot.

“I’d be delighted to see you try.”

Jet Set finished his glass of bourbon, as his eyes wandered out the window towards the ceremony unfolding below. Rainbow Dash glanced at Brandy Bow, who had seated herself near the fireplace, closer to Jet Set’s couch.

To Jet Set’s right on the couch was Upper Crust, sprawled out with her head hung back, exhausted. And on his left was Fire Streak.

"We've missed you at the Wonderbolts Academy," Fire Streak said, "Who could've guessed this is what you've been up to?"

"Speak for yourself," Rainbow said. Rainbow, too, had stolen a few looks out the window. She had promised Silver she’d save her, somehow. But she had to stop Salt from selling the case, first. If Jet Set had his hooves on the Orb, all of Equestria would be in even greater danger, Silver included.

“I’d say they make a lovely couple, though something rubs me the wrong way about an arranged marriage,” Jet Set said, glancing away from the window.

“I’m sure Malthos will make her as happy as you do for your wife,” Brandy said.

Salt laughed, and Jet Set even cracked a grin.

“All those months of torture in the Underground’s dungeon and your sense of humor survived. Marvelous,” Jet Set said, “...Well, it seems as though Malthos’ gamble has paid off for him. Now. What about mine?”

Salt held the briefcase in his lap, pawing at it, delicately. Jet Set’s eyes flickered with the candle’s glow. The One-Eyed Pony stood over his shoulder, behind the couch. Rainbow felt Blondie’s breath begin to draw short.

“Five million, was it? You’ve made out well, today, my friend. Good business indeed,” Jet Set said.

Salt Shaker watched as the One-Eyed Pony revealed a second briefcase, brown in color. He opened it himself, revealing the rows and rows of bits contained inside. The One-Eyed Pony held onto the bits, before glancing at Jet.

“Now, be so good as to hand over what was promised. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll help you crush anypony who should try and challenge you,” Jet Set said.

Salt smiled, softly, as his eyes lifted up and down from the case. Blondie and Rainbow glanced at each other. What is he waiting for?
“There won’t be any challengers,” Salt said.

Jet Set’s eyes twitched. Rainbow, Blondie, and Brandy too, seemed confused.

“For every pony who makes his mark on the world," Jet Set said, "There are forty or more gutter rats cursing him and wishing what was his is theirs."

“I know,” Salt said, “Which is why I’ve brought all the gutter rats here. With me.”

The doors swung open, and in came Diamond Dazzle the Debutante, with her Thirty Thieves, a snarling, giggling rabble of delinquents. And from the door at the other corner of the room, Hellcat and his Black Hoof brutes stormed through.

They all approached the fireplace, while Salt kept his gaze fixed on Jet Set, whose lips had been wound up tight.

“Fear will only get you so far,” Salt said, “All of us have tried to kill each other, at some point. But only one pony profits from it no matter which of us wins, or which of us loses.”

Jet Set forced a smile and glanced around at the various gangs of thieves and crooks, who were all glaring right at him. Upper Crust had finally sat up, shrinking into the cushions, terrified. Fire Streak had stood up, only for Jet Set to ease him back down.

“Whatever he’s offered you, it will pale in comparison to what I-” Jet began.

“Don’t even try it. Your gifts are all poison,” Dazzle spat.

“The deal’s for your life, now, slick,” Hellcat added, “So best speak smart.”

Jet nodded his head, slowly, processing every conceivable option. Brandy tightened her grip on the rests of her seat, and glanced at Blondie, who was ready to reach for one of his knives. Jet Set leaned in closer, shutting his eyes for a moment in surrender. He glanced up at Salt, who was still studying him.

Jet Set smirked.

“And that…is very good business.”

Through the white of the veil, Silver Stream’s world was only a blur. The tears did not help. Rainbow said she would come for me. Where is she?

She imagined Ocellus running up to save her, or her father, or her mother. Oh, how she missed her mother. She wanted nothing more than to be back with her family, back in Seaquestria, safe far below the waves.

“Do you take this mare to be your lawfully-wedded wife, to love her in sickness and in health?” the priest asked.

Malthos hesitated longer than Silver had expected. Don’t do this, Malthos. Please.

“I do,” Malthos said.

Silver shut her eyes again and began weeping. She wanted to strike him, or run, but she knew she would not get far. The priest cleared his throat.

“And do you, Silver Stream, take this stallion to be your lawfully-wedded husband?”

Silver felt her breath escape her, as she opened her mouth to speak.

Discord snapped his claw, and in an instant the snow covering the turret transformed into huge stacks of ice cream. With an outstretched paw, the mounds of soft serve came soaring through the air towards Starlight, smashing into her and sending her toppling off the turret’s edge two stories below to a snow-covered section of the roof. He still had a hold of the wand, held tightly to his chest.

“Enjoy your just desserts.” Discord laughed. Starlight growled and emerged from the ice cream, from the ground below.

Starlight teleported herself back up to the garden, hovering in the air in an aura of magic. She fired her horn at Discord, who slithered through the air in a circle, evading each blast. Eight Ball nearly lost his balance off the edge of the turret, before hurrying to find a ladder to climb down.

Starlight pummeled into Discord at full speed, and together they fell through the air, while Discord laughed and laughed.

“Give up the wand!” Starlight yelled.

Starlight cast an aura of magic around his chest and slammed shut, snapping Discord’s rib cage into dust. Discord only laughed, bouncing his head back, before dissolving into ash. He reformed right in front of her, grabbing Starlight by her throat and crushing her neck. Starlight ignited her horn, planting herself inside Discord’s mind. He let go for a moment, as he began to twitch and groan and bark, disoriented and in agony, as Starlight broke into his mind and activated every pain receptor in his nervous system. Discord screamed aloud and thrashed in the air, before overcoming Starlight’s control and breathing a mouthful of fire, attempting to incinerate her. Starlight blocked the impact with a shield of magic, before conjuring a swarm of icy shards to shred him into bits.

Discord laughed and phased into some kind of immaterial specter, yawning as the shards all ran right through him.

“If I were really trying to hurt you, this would’ve been long over by now,” Discord laughed.

Starlight, out of breath and furious, screamed and ignited her horn again, darting through the air after Discord.

Jet Set circled his hoof around his glass.

“The money’s all you care about,” Jet said, before glancing at Blondie and Rainbow, “Well. For most of you, I think. But the case is what I care about. This is bigger than whatever petty grievances led you to this truce of yours, a short-lived one at that, I expect. One of you will be quick to take my place, no doubt.”

The crowd of thieves became uneasy then, enough that Salt had to glance over his shoulder.

“He wants us at each other’s throats,” Salt said, “Like he’s always had us.”

“You want yourselves at each other’s throats,” Jet corrected, “Most of you couldn’t fathom what it takes to run things where I am, and the few that do would let everything come crumbling to pieces in a matter of days. This is the life you’ve always understood, and as much as you all like to whine about it, you know that it’s all you’Il ever understand. I am where I am because I am who I am. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share a part of my life.”

“Share that five million, that’d be a start,” said Hellcat, to the rowdy agreement of the thieves behind him.

Jet Set grinned.

“Five million for my life, as you wish. And another five million, you’ll have that, too. In exchange for what I came here for. The case.”

“Ten million?” repeated Dazzle, shocked.

“No,” Salt said, “Fifteen million. Five for me, five for Dazzle, and five for Hellcat.”

“Fifteen million…” Jet Set considered. He was sweating bullets now. “...That’s a lot of bits.”

“Not if you can’t spend it,” came a new voice from the doorway.

Jet Set’s breath gave out, suddenly, and a smile curled to his lips, while the crowd of thieves made room for the newest arrival to the room.

A bright blue aura of magic revealed the face of Sunset Shimmer, clad in her pink dress, trotting her way through the crowd. Rainbow Dash jumped to her hooves, as did Blondie and Salt. The crowd fell deathly quiet.

“You have your rats,” Jet Set smiled, glaring at Salt, “And I have mine.”

“So, Jet, your little henchponies are unionizing? Shame I never got the memo,” Sunset said, “It’s good you’re all here together. This will be much simpler.”

“Everypony get back,” Dazzle barked. Everypony in the crowd began rumbling then, backing into the corner, drawing their weapons. Jet Set rose from the couch, finally, as did Brandy Bow from her chair.

Only Salt, Blondie, and Rainbow remained where they were. Blondie kept his eyes on Jet and the One-Eyed Pony, anxious about any surprise attacks.

Sunset’s eyes darted over toward the briefcase, in Salt’s hooves.

“So this is what all the fuss is about,” Sunset said, inspecting the case from a few feet away.

“A hundred or more ponies, all dead on its behalf,” Jet remarked.

“That list will be longer, after tonight,” Sunset said, glancing back at Jet, “I want to see Scootaloo.”

“Scootaloo?” came Rainbow, “What are you talking about?”

Rainbow spun around to face Jet Set, who had raised his hoof, silencing the room.

“I had thought we could settle this civilly,” Jet said, glancing back at Salt, “I suppose not. Sunset, if you want your friend back, kill him and bring me the case.”

Sunset’s face shifted then, and for a moment her eyes betrayed something that could only be panic.

“...Not until I know she’s still alive,” Sunset said, as sweat blinded her in one eye.

Jet Set sighed.

“Keep me waiting and she won’t be,” Jet Set said.

Sunset hesitated, as she turned her horn over towards Salt. Blondie planted himself between them.

“Wait,” Salt said, shoving Blondie out of the way, “...Alright. You’ve done it.”

Jet Set raised an eyebrow.

“The case,” Salt said, “It’s yours.”

Hellcat and Dazzle glanced at each other, nervously.

“I want her as well,” Jet said, glancing over at Brandy.

"I'm not his to give," Brandy growled. Rhythm and Rhyme stood tall on either side of her.

Salt glanced at Blondie, who was already staring at him.

"Why?" Salt asked, "She'll give you the combination. What else can she give you?"

“You’ve got more of a brain than Crozer or Trench ever had, and so I’d be glad to have you in my service, even after all of this. But you must understand, I need some kind of insurance to prevent any more treacherous thoughts from crossing your mind. The girl betrayed you already, she's no friend of yours. Although I've gathered that she still matters to you, for some reason." Jet was looking at Blondie now, whose breaths came quicker out his snout. "She matters to him, and he matters to you, Salt. I'll take good care of her. I promise."

"I'm not going with you," Brandy said. To her frustration, she found herself looking to Blondie. She could not bring herself to ask for his help, though the look in her eyes said enough.

Blondie took a step forwards, staring up at Salt. And the giant glanced down at him, and for the smallest moment, a smile found its way to his face.

Sunset still had her horn pointed at them, though even she seemed reluctant to have to fire her horn. The One-Eyed Pony was smirking right at Blondie, which seemed to set him off even more.

“Or I suppose I could just kill all of you instead,” Jet laughed. Brandy was trembling again, and Blondie took a step closer towards her.

“...Nopony needs to die,” Salt said, approaching Jet, dragging the briefcase behind him.

Jet Set smiled and eyed the giant as he approached. Salt handed the briefcase over, but as Jet’s hoof reached the handle, Salt hesitated. Blondie’s eyes were fixed on him. Don’t do it, he wanted to say, though Blondie too was not sure there was any other way.

“You lost, Salt,” Jet smiled, “You went all in, and lost.”

"Blondie," Brandy finally said.

"Not another step, or the deal's off," Jet warned, and Blondie listened, "The girl's mine."

Salt released his grip on the briefcase. Blondie took a step forward, hoping to have Salt’s back, but Rainbow’s hoof came to stop him. Blondie had never gotten to know Salt as a young stallion, but he had heard the stories. And in those eyes then, he knew that the stories might have been all true, after all. There was a murderous rage there, a red fury.

“And now my friend, I will ask that you shake my hoof,” Jet said, “As a professional courtesy.”

Upper Crust glanced at her husband, warily. Even Fire Streak seemed uneasy. And the thieves, who were as furious as Salt were, now seemed on the brink of some mad frenzy, as they swayed in place and held their weapons close to their chests.

“Shake your hoof?” Salt asked.

“That’s right. Shake my hoof.”

Salt opened his mouth to reply, but no words came.

Blondie felt Rainbow grab him by his foreleg. Blondie wanted to move, but he could only watch for Salt’s next step. Don't give her up. Don't."

Salt gave a strange smile, and he glanced back at Blondie for a moment. And Blondie felt his heart sink then, when Salt turned back around and took a step towards Jet.

Nopony saw when exactly the blade sprung loose out of Salt’s jacket sleeve. All they saw was the slash of silver across the air, past Jet’s outstretched hoof. Jet’s chest and part of his throat had been torn open by the knife, and blood sprayed up into the air like a fountain as he fell to the ground, gasping and clawing for breath.

Upper Crust screamed. Blondie reached for his knife. Sunset’s horn glowed brighter.

“That handsome face is still intact, isn’t it?” Salt said, “That’s a professional courtesy.”

The One-Eyed Pony shot first, charging his horn up until it glowed blinding bright white, before erupting to burn through the air, burn and burn and burn all the way through Salt Shaker’s jacket, his shirt, his flesh and his heart. Sunset Shimmer had opened fire on the Thieves, and Hellcat had already flipped the couch to use as cover.

“Salt!” Blondie screamed, rushing over towards him, but Rainbow had grabbed him first, dragging him back with her towards the ground to avoid the hellstorm of magical bullets whizzing through the air. Blondie’s heart had stopped, as he and Rainbow could only watch in horror as the giant fell to his knees, his white face paler than ever, for the hole that had burned through his chest and out his back.

Dazzle had levied a blast towards the One-Eyed Pony, who had killed two more ponies since shooting Salt. But the blast caught a fleeing Upper Crust, instead, who went flying off her hooves towards the window. Jet Set, who was holding a hoof to his torn-open throat, raised a hoof towards where Upper Crust had been thrown, as he tried to call out her name. But he was too weak to move after her or cast a spell, as blood gushed out from his throat, staining the crimson carpet a deeper shade of red.

Brandy, who was hiding behind Rhythm and Rhyme and a toppled-over couch, was still staring at where Salt had fallen.

Rainbow Dash covered her ears as a blast of magic scorched the air right next to her head, and Blondie ran off to where Salt had collapsed. The blast that had struck Upper Crust sent her crashing through the glass of the window, and her screaming was the last thing Rainbow heard before something hard hit her in the head, and her world turned black.

The priest was staring at her. Malthos was staring at her. All the guards, and all the guests, the faces she knew, and the faces she didn’t. All of them were waiting for her answer.

“I….” Silver said, “I….”

Before she could get her words out, some shrill sound rang out from somewhere in the distance. It was a scream, Silver realized, a mare’s scream that could be heard from all the way down in the garden, and with it came the sound of shattering glass. Silver caught a brief glimpse of the mare as she fell three stories to her death from one of the manse’s third story chambers, some golden pony with a pale purple mane.

The guests all rose from their chairs, as soldiers began rushing towards the scene. There were more screams and murmurings and chaos all around, and from it Silver watched a pony slither out from the dark edges of the garden, a pony soldier in all black. She had never seen her before.

She’s not an imperial, Silver quickly realized. The pony was a mare, a red mare with sharp, green eyes. The pony’s horn was ignited, and she was heading right for the platform, trotting along past the oblivious guests who were busy trying to figure out what had happened.

Silver seemed to be the only creature to see what was happening, before the black-armored soldier fired her horn straight towards the platform. Silver shrieked. She’s trying to kill me!

But the blast whizzed right past, and found Malthos instead, knocking him off his hooves. Now the ceremony had turned into a full-on frenzy, as fifty-or-more royal soldiers emerged from the where they had been hiding in the dark, taking off their disguises and blasting changelings and Imperials and making their way towards Silver, who crouched down beneath the archway to avoid any stray shots. She immediately began looking for Ocellus, though did not stray from where Malthos was lying, groaning in agony at his seared shoulder.

“Are you OK?!” Silver asked, kneeling beside him. He swatted her claw away as she reached to help him.

“FIND THEM! KILL THEM!” he wailed from the ground, as changeling praetorians formed a defensive circle around him. King Pharynx had descended into the garden to confront the royals, and a host of changeling guards followed after him.

Then, amidst the chaos of royals and imperials and changelings turning the garden into a battlefield, some kind of meteor came ramming into the garden from the heavens. No, not a meteor, a draconequus, and a pony alongside him. Discord! Silver realized. She could not see who the pony was, as she was obscured in ash and a black cloak. What’s he doing here?!

Silver panicked and began rushing for cover, unsure where to go as creatures ran about screaming. There were changelings calling after her, Princess Elytra among them, no doubt trying to bring her to safety. But Silver was lost to the chaos, as creatures ran every which way to escape. Silver crouched down to avoid being struck by any stray shots, when a hoof grabbed her by the shoulder. Silver glanced up to find Ocellus standing over her. Silver would have burst into tears then, but she hadn’t the time, as Ocellus helped her up to her hooves.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ocellus exclaimed.

Ocellus held onto Silver’s claw, tightly, and they made off into the crowds, as gardens went up in flames.

Blondie fell to his knees in front of Salt Shaker. Blondie picked him up by his head, holding him in his lap, as he felt his heart twist in his chest.

“Blondie!” came Dazzle from nearby, dodging blasts from Sunset and the One-Eyed Pony, and the rest of Jet Set’s goons, “Get your friend and the case and get out of here!! We’ll hold these two off! But don’t forget about our deal!”

Blondie glanced at her for a moment, and back at Salt.

“I can’t leave him,” Blondie muttered.

“Damn you, he’s gone,” Dazzle yelled, dodging a blast.

Blondie held his head in his hooves, gasping for breath as his mind turned foggy and his heart lurched in his chest. He could not look down any longer, and he dragged himself away. He found Rainbow nearby, unconscious after taking a spear’s butt to the head. And the bits, Malthos' six million and Jet Set's five million, where were they? Most of the candles had been snuffed out, but some had been knocked over to set the curtains ablaze. He found the bits in the hooves of the twins, Rhyme and Rhythm, who were making for the door, though Brandy was not with them.

Blondie grabbed the case and slung Rainbow’s body over his back. He lifted up with his legs, before a sharp pain sent him spinning over onto his chest. A stray blast had torn through the flesh in his hind leg. He growled and gasped as the pain swept through him, and he tried to push up again, still with Rainbow on his back, though he had lost the strength.

He saw a hoof reach down from around the couch, and he glanced up.

"C'mon," said Brandy, grabbing him by his hoof and helping him up to his hooves, "Let's go!" She urged, following after the twins with Blondie's hoof in hers, and Rainbow on his back. They ran out the door, escaping the firefight, fleeing into the dark hall.

Sunset Shimmer screamed, and her horn glowed even brighter. Dazzle and Hellcat and all their ponies all came tumbling back against the wall, where they were stuck against, all sprawled out like flies on flypaper. Sunset held them there, catching her breath and glancing over at where Jet Set lay. He still had a hoof to his throat, but he had sat himself up, struggling with his other hoof on the couch. His eyes were red and leaking tears, and his suit was drenched in blood. The One-Eyed Pony had his horn aimed at Sunset now, hesitantly.

“Jet. This is your last fucking chance. Tell me where Scootaloo is,” Sunset said.

The One-Eyed Pony flinched, glancing down at Jet Set, who coughed some blood.

“If I don’t leave this wedding alive,” he choked out, his voice raspy and wet, “The girl dies.”

Sunset was seething with rage.

“If you hurt her I’ll rip you apart limb from limb,” Sunset said.

“Then do as I say,” Jet warned. Each word was agony for him, with his throat sliced open. His horn was alight, Sunset noticed, and whatever spell he was casting was keeping him alive, for the moment.

“For both our sakes,” Jet continued, “You have…three days. Find Blondie and get me the case. I’ll be at Hellebore's Fort, a few miles from here, waiting for you.”

Sunset could feel herself burning with rage, but before she could release it all, she sighed, and dimmed her horn. Dazzle and Hellcat and all the thieves came spilling down to the floor in a pile, all groaning in pain.

“Three days,” Sunset confirmed. She glared at the One-Eyed Pony, who finally dimmed his fear, laughing off his own fear.

Sunset left them all there, turning back out to see if she could catch up with Blondie, though he was long gone already.

As Sunset jogged down the hall and the stairwell, she clicked on her radio.

“Suri? Lightning?”

No answer came. Sunset had to tell herself not to panic, even more so after returning down the second floor corridor where she had left Wallflower. The hallway was completely deserted. But one of the windows had been busted open, and through it Sunset could get a better glimpse of the chaos below.

Royal soldiers fought with imperials and changelings, and creatures ran to avoid the destruction unfolding. Splashes of purple fire and tornados of dirt burst through the air, and all Sunset could think of was where her friends might be, if they were alive.

“Sunset Shimmer.”

At the very bottom of the steps, a soldier in black armor had emerged from the scramble. Redshift wore a different set of armor than the last time they had crossed paths. Her breastplate was molded in ebony iron bejeweled with miniature rubies, all scuffed with ash and dirt.

“Of course you’re here, too,” Redshift scowled, “I thought saving the princess would be enough to win Twilight’s favor again. But killing you, on top of that….Looks like luck is back on my side.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sunset said, igniting her horn. Redshift began cackling, as her horn twisted into a red flame.

Sunset ran towards her and meant to fire her horn, but, to her shock, Redshift was far quicker, blasting Sunset in the chest hard enough to send her flying back into a pillar. The crater that Sunset left in the marble was strong enough to cause the entire pillar to begin collapsing upon itself, showering Sunset in dust.

“You’ve lost your edge, Shimmer,” Redshift grinned.

Another strike took Sunset in the gut, and another swung down with even greater force above. Sunset felt her jaw get knocked out of place, and she landed on the tile with a bloody splat.

“Fuck,” Sunset croaked, struggling to pick herself up.

“When you see your friend Starlight in the land of the dead, tell her I say hi,” Redshift grinned. Sunset grunted and tried to find her hooves, but Redshift already had her in her magical grip. Flashing fangs with full foul fury, Redshift dragged Sunset up into the air and swung her around face-first into one of the columns. Upon impact, Sunset's horn cracked at the stem, and the ear-splitting headache that followed made Sunset scream, before collapsing to her knees, leaking blood out of her nose, ears, and the crack in her horn.

Sunset threw her hoof into the ground, as the pressure in her forehead made her vision go blurry and her speech begin to slur. Redshift had her by the throat in an aura of magic, squeezing all the air out of her lungs. She felt herself fly through the air, back towards the open window. Sunset didn’t start screaming until Redshift’s grip gave out, and Sunset entered free fall.

Wallflower darted down the steps towards the garden, rushing against the current of panicked creatures running for their lives. She desperately searched for Redshift, or Silver Stream in the crowds, but she couldn't see much through the frenzy.

Down below in the garden, Wallflower found Lightning by the appetizers table, just as she caved in a royal soldier’s breastplate with a hindleg kick.

“Lightning!” Wallflower yelled.

Lightning nearly kicked Wallflower too, before catching herself just in time.

“Oh my gosh! Wallflower!” Lightning gasped, rushing over to hug Wallflower, “What are you doing out here!”

“Redshift's here," Wallflower said. Lightning wiped the sweat off her face.

"Of course. Why not?" Lightning laughed, "Where's Sunset?"

"I don't know. We’ve gotta find the princess!” Wallflower exclaimed, “We have to find her!” Lightning caught her breath, and nodded.

Suri was nearby, shimmying her way through the battle, dodging blasts of magic and stray knives. One soldier grabbed her by her leg, and so Suri promptly bent down to pick up a metal serving tray, before bashing the soldier over the head with it.

“Look, don’t touch, ‘kay?” Suri muttered to herself.

Wallflower and Lightning found her near the hedge maze. Lightning kept watch over her shoulder as Wallflower ran up to inspect Suri for any injuries.

"I'm fine," Suri said, before glancing at Lightning, "It's her you should be worried about. I can't even picture you without a black eye, anymore."

“The princess, have you seen her?” Wallflower asked.

“I saw her run off,” Suri said, “If she's quick, she can get out of here. Maybe we should worry about ourselves, huh?”

“Hey, at least for once this wasn’t our fault, right?” Lightning grinned.

All three of them turned towards the manse, when Sunset’s screaming sounded off from out of a second story window. The trio stared in horror as Sunset fell all the way down towards the marble surface below.

Wallflower winced and shut her eyes, unable to look. Sunset’s screaming had stopped.

Wallflower opened her eyes, trembling with fear, only to find Sunset standing upright, a magical bubble protecting her. Sunset’s horn dimmed, and the bubble disappeared, and she promptly fell to her knees, exhausted.

“Sunset!” cried Wallflower and Lightning at once. All three rushed over to her, helping her up. "Your horn!"

Sunset's horn was split near the middle, though could still function. But each spell seemed to cause Sunset unbearable pain, and after that bubble Sunset needed a minute to sit and recover.

“What happened?” Lightning asked, spreading her wings, ready to challenge whoever had so callously tossed Sunset nearly to her death. Sunset grabbed Lightning’s foreleg before she could take flight.

“The case, it's gone, we’ve gotta catch up,” Sunset managed, though she could hardly avoid blacking out from the pain, “We’ve got to go…Scootaloo, she…”

Sunset fell into Wallflower’s hooves, as she lost consciousness for a moment. Wallflower glanced up at Suri and Lightning, who were both looking at her.

“What do we do?” Suri asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah, Wallflower? What do we do?” Lightning stammered.

Wallflower glanced between them. Do something. Do something!

“Uh, uh, Suri, go call up Moon Dancer,” Wallflower said, “Tell her to pick us up outside, and tell her we need Lackluster's guys to take a look at Sunset, ASAP, she's hurt...Lightning, keep an eye out for Redshift, and help me carry Sunset out of here."

"OK. OK, got it!" Lightning said, nodding.

But before any of them could move, a new explosion rang out from the garden, so powerful that even Sunset roused from her daze.

The soldiers were whittling each other down in the garden, which was now littered with dead, but at the far end of the aisle, where the platform had once stood, they saw two creatures struggling in the air, moving so quickly they were hardly visible at all. But with that great crack in the sky, they each went still for a moment, and one, the smaller of the two, found her footing on solid ground, straight ahead in that aisle. Her black cloak was mostly torn, and her purple mane was scorched with ash. But each of them recognized the glow of that horn. Wallflower practically dropped Sunset, but Sunset had found her strength again, her eyes widening.

“Starlight?!”

Starlight stumbled back onto her hind legs, grunting as the last of her strength escaped her.

“Discord!” she managed, falling to her knees.

Discord was hovering in the air, laughing maniacally to himself.

“Good effort, Glimmer,” Discord smiled, “But not good enough.”

Starlight groaned and stood back up to her hooves.

"Oh, come now, quit while you’re ahead. I’ve been playing nice. I have the wand. Soon I’ll have the orb. Then absolutely nothing can stop me, you least of all.”

“I…won’t…let you do this,” Starlight croaked. Her horn ignited, even as all her strength wavered.

Discord grinned, and his claw produced a ball of fire. Starlight braced herself with all her strength.

Then a flash of green wings came belting out from the edges of Starlight’s vision, kicking Discord in the jaw, knocking a few teeth loose.

A swirl of blue was quick to follow, twisting through the air, spinning like a helix, and in its wake came flames of gold, red, and opal. Starlight’s eyes widened.

Sunset shot him once, twice, three times through his hide, burning holes all the way through his flesh. Each spell made her cry out in pain, but she did not falter.

Discord hesitated enough for Starlight to set him on fire using an immolation spell. He extinguished himself immediately, though was blinded for a moment, and before he could snap his claw, Sunset sliced off his talon at the stem with a ray of heat magic.

Discord grabbed his steaming stump and turned to face Sunset Shimmer, who tore through the air again at such a speed she broke almost every bone in Discord’s body.

Discord reassembled himself, and laughed, as Starlight was joined on either side by Sunset and Lightning. But Discord’s smile was wiped off his face, when he realized the wand was no longer in his claw.

“Looking for this?” Starlight grinned, raising the wand in her aura of magic. Discord laughed, softly.

“…These must be the friends you’re always going on about,” Discord grinned, “Sunset Shimmer is it? Celestia’s failed apprentice? And you, the dollar store Rainbow Dash?”

“Say the word, Starlight, and I’ll sock this chump a second time for ya,” Lightning grunted. Starlight steadied her with a hoof.

“I could kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you again for eternity if I so desired,” Discord said.

Sunset took a step forward, eager to re-engage, though Starlight stuck out her hoof to stop her, too.

Discord locked eyes with Starlight, and he smiled for a moment, before glancing up at all of the devastation wrought upon the garden. The fires gleamed in his eyes, and Starlight wondered why Discord seemed to have given up so easily.

“The whole world is on fire," Discord said, "Your honor, your mercy, your weakness won't save it. If you won't join me, I'll have to handle things myself."

"You don't fool me," Starlight challenged, "You're afraid of her. That's why you came to me in the first place. You need me. But I don't need you." Starlight glanced at Sunset and Lightning on either side of her, and back to Discord.

Discord snickered, glancing up at the stars above, and then back at the wand in Starlight's hooves.

"I'll see you on the other side, Glimmer."

Starlight’s victorious smile faded, just as Discord snapped his claws and disappeared in a flash of light.

Starlight brought the wand to her chest, and fell to her knees. She glanced up at Sunset and Lightning, who were both still too stunned to speak much at all.

Lightning fell to her knees beside Starlight, and practically fell on top of her, hugging her so tightly Starlight felt the air slip out of her lungs. Lightning was crying and laughing, Starlight realized, and she laughed too, hugging her back.

"You're OK!" Lightning exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement, "You're OK!"

“Starlight!” cried Wallflower, who was followed by Suri; the two had been trying to get a connection on the radio to contact Moon Dancer.

Wallflower fell to the ground and joined the hug. "Starlight, you, we...We thought you were dead!" Wallflower exclaimed.

"What happened?! Who was that guy?!" Lightning stammered.

Starlight was too overwhelmed to answer; all she could do was smile and laugh and struggle up to her hooves. She glanced at Suri, who was still standing, and still too stunned to speak.

“...Glimmer,” Suri said, as a smile curled onto her lips.

“Polomare,” Starlight smiled.

They met each other halfway and hugged, and Suri was surprised to find herself wanting to cry a little too, though perhaps not to Lightning's extent, who was a trembling mess. She backed away, and Starlight turned to Sunset, who was standing apart from them all.

Starlight and Sunset locked eyes, and might have moved in for a hug, or a punch, maybe, but before they could move, they all heard some soldiers’ voices moving closer from over the hill.

“We’ve gotta get to the carriage,” Sunset grunted, struggling to move, “Let’s go.”

“And Silver Stream?” asked Wallflower.

“She made it out, I’m sure,” Sunset said, “C’mon, we’ve gotta go!”

After sticking the wand inside her cloak, Starlight glanced over her shoulder one last time, as she followed the other four towards a burnt-out section of the hedges, off into the snowy night.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! The next chapter is going to be more Twilight-focused, and will include the battle at Canterlot with the dragons. Before I start on it, I'm planning on going through each chapter and adding a story recap in the author's note. Sorry about the long wait and thanks again for reading!