The dying of the light

It was a series of rushed, frantic voices that woke her from her fitful slumber. Her grey ears twitched, and her body stirred as she stifled a pathetic whimper. Her eyes fluttered open, a pained grimace settling across her features as she weakly lifted her head. A deep throb emanated from somewhere above her, the floor gently vibrating beneath her bruised body.

Iskra squinted across the small room.

Several other soldiers were lying all around her, with varying levels of injuries. Several pairs of hooves blurred past her, stirring up the stale air in their wake. The sickly smell of blood, sweat and vomit, amongst other things, filled her flared nostrils, barely masked by the acrid wash of disinfectant. A small needle had been fixed to her foreleg, with a small IV fluid drip hung unceremoniously above her head.

Half lidded eyes flickered around the room, coming to an unsteady stop on the exit door. Voices shouted from outside, an unseen urgency, or fear, lacing their tones. She craned her neck, wincing from the slight movement, and strained to listen to the commotion.

“Incomi… portside… take co-” A mare’s voice shouted across the bedlam, soon drowned out as a series of sharp cries and shouts from above filled the air. The room rattled and shook all around her, Iskra letting out a pained cry as she was roughly jolted against the cold wall. Pain flared all across her body, shooting down from her shoulder like a bolt of lightning. A loud bang rang out, followed by the sounds of splintering and buckling wood ripping through Iskra’s frazzled senses. The shouting continued.

A dull thud sounded out next to the mare, followed by a familiar voice moaning in pain.

“Ly'synė dammit!” The voice groaned, followed by a scraping of hooves against the wooden floor. Iskra forced herself to turn around despite the pain, her tearful eyes managing to register a grey, Thestral shaped blur in a tattered green uniform stumbling to her hooves.

“N… Nor?” Iskra gasped with dry, cracked lips. She barely recognized her own voice; it seemed rougher, or more hollow. The mare stopped moving, doing what seemed like a double take before kneeling down beside Iskra’s makeshift cot.

“Captain Iskra?” she gasped, removing a small canteen from her saddlebags and offering it to the injured mare. Iskra clasped it with shaking hooves, taking several long, deep swigs. She almost coughed it back up as a fiery, burning sensation spread down her throat and warmed her stomach.

“There’s no water left, Captain,” she responded absently, taking a small gulp herself before tightly screwing it shut again, tossing the canteen back into her open bag. “I- I had no idea you’d been picked up on the last airship,” the mare wheezed, her face contorting slightly from the burning liquor. “Fuck, that’s rough.” she complained, clipping her bag securely closed once again.

“Where… who are..?” Iskra stuttered, cringing as further crashes and shouts reverberated through the airship's hull. The mare kneeling above her flinched, ears flattening against her skull. Her face blanched, her eyes small, terrified pinpricks, trembling against the noises coming from above.

She turned back to face Iskra, burying her fear deep inside her body, and tried to put on a brave face. “It’s Siatra, Captain.” she busied herself by checking Iskra’s drip, fumbling around with the giving set’s luer lock, halting the slow release of fluids from the almost emptied IV. Siatra released a shaky breath, eyes fixated on the open doorway beyond. “I…” she flinched, her voice threatening to break as she held back a small sob. “Lieutenant Nor, she…” Siatra turned back to look at Iskra directly with watery eyes. “She stayed behind, with the rearguard in Windridge.” She reached back into her saddle bag intent on taking another liberal dip into her small canteen, before the airship veered suddenly to the left.

Siatra shouted out, hitting the ground hard before sliding roughly into the opposite wall. The other Thestrals lying in the room let out various shouts and cries. Those who couldn’t find a suitable hoofhold in time found themselves sliding painfully across the floor, crashing into one another as the ship continued to swing violently off course. Bodies slammed into one another, collapsing into loose, crumpled heaps against the far wall. The ship’s body groaned under the strain, creaking metal and fracturing wood sending alarming shudders throughout its structure. Iskra clung desperately to the railings against the wall, hissing venomously through her teeth as her injured shoulder protested to the strain she was putting it under.

After a few, agonising moments, the vessel righted itself, returning to a more or less flat trajectory. Iskra immediately let go, collapsing back into her cot while breathing heavily. The sounds of flak and manarifles firing above deck punctuated her laboured breathing, a wave of dizziness and nausea slamming full speed into the mare. She struggled upright, managing to put weight on one of her hooves before collapsing back onto the floor with an exasperated gasp.

Siatra stumbled forward, half carried by the ship's momentum. “Here.” She spoke through ragged breaths, unclasping a small pouch on her belt and taking a small vial of liquid in her hooves. Iskra eyed her through spinning vision, straining her eyes to read the small words imprinted on the label. She fiddled with the vial, small rivulets of sweat running down her face as she focussed on carefully piercing the film cap with a needle, drawing up a small amount of the clear liquid into the syringe. “This should help with the pain.”

She tapped her hoof against the syringe, spilling a few drops from the needle point as she removed the trapped air, before unceremoniously plunging it into Iskra’s shoulder. Iskra jolted from the sudden movement, opening her mouth to protest before a numb sensation began spreading throughout her body. Her shoulders relaxed suddenly, the tension leaving her body as she slowly reclined back into the cot. Her head felt light as she gently swayed from side to side, an induced serenity settling across the mare.

Iskra’s vision blurred in and out of focus as she watched Siatra pocket the vial once more, throwing the used needle onto the floor behind her. “Just stay here, Captain” she half pleaded, half threatened, clipping her saddle bag securely shut before leaning down to pick up her dropped sabre. She grabbed Iskra’s body with trembling hooves, dragging the mare so she was laying on her side instead of flat against her back. Iskra squinted, trying to focus her dazed eyes on the weapon the young mare clung to so tightly. A splash of crimson stained the silver blade. She managed to tilt her head upwards, holding an unsteady, startled gaze on the young medic.

Siatra bit her bottom lip and recoiled from Iskra’s gaze, taking a deep breath before breaking into a fierce gallop. Iskra lifted her hoof, her mouth opening to speak, but she was too late. With a dissipated sigh, she slumped back to the ground, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she surrendered herself to the narcotics enthralling kiss.

She blinked, eyes glazing over as she finally, mercifully, lost consciousness.

***

It had been a warm summer, though it rained sometimes.
Iskra reclined backwards, fanning her wings out behind her as she gently drifted across the lake’s shimmering surface. Her mane and tail swirled all around her like seagrass, lending an almost ethereal effect to the drifting transient. A chorus of muffled shouting and laughter echoed all around her, gently teasing her waterlogged ears with its infectious joy. She closed her eyes, taking deep, steady breaths all the while. The faint, sweet scent of honeysuckle greeted her nose, and a wide smile split across her bright face.

Glinting fangs reflected the dazzling sun high above the small forest grove. She licked her lips, savouring the faint taste of cherry wine that still clung to them, and let out a joyful shriek. She kicked her hindlegs out, sending a glittering spray of clear blue water in chaotic jets all around her. Snorting with laughter, her eyes fluttered open as droplets of water rained down all around her.

***

Iskra lay sprawled across the cot, barely registering the commotion still carrying on outside. Distorted, demonic faces flashed through her mind, far too fast to comprehend, let alone recognize. Her eyes were wide, flat saucers.
She shouldn’t be here.

Iskra hyperventilated, feeling as if her head would explode.

She couldn’t be anywhere.

Thousands of voices filled her mind, clawing and screaming. She wanted to cry.

Iskra felt her consciousness shredding in her hooves, and everything went black.

***

The emerald foliage above shifted and shimmied along the branches, where the wind was gently laughing in its dizzying destinations. Iskra’s green eyes relaxed once more, content with coasting along the warm undercurrents.
Something brushed up against her leg from beneath the water, startling the young mare. She kicked out involuntarily, flipping her body around and upright in a flash. Keen eyes narrowed, she surveyed the surrounding area, scanning for any telltale ripples beneath the lake's surface. Nothing moved around her for several moments. She relaxed her body, a nervous giggle escaping her lips, before the lake surface erupted in front of her.

***

Those who were living did their best to survive.
The airship continued on its slow sojourn, listing slightly to the left as the continual threat of cannonfire lingered in the background. Somewhere in the background, a Thestral whimpered and sobbed quietly.

Iskra licked her dry and cracked lips, cringing in the flickering candlelight. Across the room, two medics worked tirelessly to resuscitate a collapsed soldier. She watched with half lidded eyes as Siatra cursed loudly, using the soldiers ribs like ladders as she climbed up on their chest. Audible pops and gravely cracks resonated in Iskra’s ears as they worked, the other medic shouting for assistance while he worked on securing the soldiers airway.

Iskra mumbled something across the cramped area, her voice returning muffled and diluted, as if she were swimming underwater. The stallion medic tore a quick glance at Iskra, barely registering her presence before returning to the task at hoof. A dark shape galloped past her, skidding to a stop by the collapsed soldier. They shared a few rushed words, before a bright golden light began emitting from the new arrivals horn as they knelt down to lend assistance.

Iskra recoiled in pain, tightly clamping her eyes shut as the light beset her senses. Her synapses flared in pain, cascading bolts of energy firing all around her bruised body. A muffled wailing assaulted her ears as her body twisted and writhed beneath her.

***

She squealed, limbs flailing wildly as a set of strong hooves dragged her underneath the once tranquil water. Instincts kicking in, Iskra clasped her mouth shut, pushing desperately off of whoever had latched onto her. She kicked her rear hooves off the mud logged lake floor, streamlining her body as she swam upwards, breaking the surface of the water with a gargling gasp. Spitting out lake water, she spun around angrily, soon locking eyes on the perpetrator.
A pair of lively brown eyes stared back at her, complete with a goofy smile and a raised eyebrow. The stallion burst into fits of laughter, one hoof pointed unsteadily at Iskra as he treaded water with the other three. Iskra fumed, green eyes glaring as if staring down an enemy, despite a small grin adoring her face.

“Blea…” She growled, shrieking in faux anger as she dived underneath the surface, target firmly locked in her sights. Blea let out a panicked laugh-turned shriek, turning tail on Iskra as he made a beeline for the lake shore. The other Thestrals cast a few lazy glances at the commotion, a few pausing to watch Blea’s unfortunate fate play out.

***

A stiff wind blew across Cantermere’s airship landing docks, the cool mountain air stirring up loose locks of Iskra’s tangled mane. She took small, steady breaths, her hooves locked in an iron grip on the stretcher as she was carried down the gangway by two weary unicorns.
Various dock workers, civilians and military personnel all stopped what they were doing to watch the sombre procession disembark, setting aside their tools and weapons as the miserable survivors spilled out of the damaged airship.

Iskra glanced down at her body. Her front left leg was covered in bandages, the rest of her scraped, bruised and bloodied to a ridiculous degree. She silently thanked Ly'synė that there was nobody there waiting for her.

The crowd was deathly silent, faces awash with dismay, or shame. Nobody cheered. A thousand eyes stared at her. Through her. Every small noise felt like the shattering of a million glass shards. She idly wondered when the leaves had begun falling. The world hadn’t been dying on the other side of the sunrise.

Melting thoughts pirouetted through Iskra’s mind, dancing around her like burning ribbons. She closed her eyes, shuddering as the faces simply turned away.

***

Blea burst out of the water, sending a kaleidoscope spray of water all around him as he broke into a gallop. Soon after, Iskra too burst out from underneath the water, taking flight briefly before landing back down on the stallions fleeing form. The pair fell into the sand in an uncoordinated heap, rolling and grappling with one another in the shallows.
With a loud grunt, Iskra finally gained the upper hoof, pinning the stallion to the sand with her body weight. Blea bit his bottom lip, panting heavily while Iskra tightened her hold on him. Stray locks of his dark mane intertwined with Iskra’s own curly strands, and small giggles escaped his lips through ragged breaths. Iskra’s glare soon softened as she dropped her head against his chest, giggling as she softly nuzzled his chest.

Blea whispered something in her ears, and she cackled with joy, leaning forwards to affectionately kiss the stallion. The birds whistled, and the trees were laughing.

And she was lost in him.