As my senses slowly recovered, I figured I would simply be getting out of bed and getting ready for a day at my usual workplace. I groaned as my body started to switch into gear for whatever task might await me.

After all, I had just been through something very strange. I'd had a nightmare where I'd been turned into a fictional character and basically lived through her life before being forced to flee from some crazy ponies and then crashed on a mountain. Undoubtedly that last bit was my brain telling me it was time to wake up.

Though that didn't explain the lack of an alarm in the background. My alarm always goes off, without fail. It's as reliable as anything, and as sure to start as the sun rising in the sky.

Furthermore, why weren't my hands responding? Why did I seem to be in an upright position? And why was there a smell of burning fuel in my nostrils?

"Tha... cold here... dark..." I murmured to myself, trying to get my body to move. My voice sounded a bit odd, but I'd probably just slept oddly. I can't recall any sleeping pattern which turns you into a Mid Atlantic person, though.

I suddenly felt something hitting my side, and I was suddenly awake. And I then realised this was no nightmare. This was, in fact, real life. I looked down and saw I was still a pony. A pony strapped down inside a helicopter, with a cockpit that was on fire.

Wait, a cockpit on fire?

I looked over to see Zipp strapped in next to me, and she looked absolutely terrified. Her eyes were wide and wild, and her face was contorted into a face of fear.

I tried to get my bearings. "Zipp? Where are we?"

Zipp was quick to reply. "We need to get out of here!" she said, her voice higher in pitch than normal. "I can't get the straps free! Mom, help me, please!"

Well, what sort of heartless parent would leave their own child to burn to death? I leaned over and punched the release button on Zipp's restraints before hitting the button on my own. Both sets of straps popped open fairly easily, but that didn'y give us much time to escape. The cockpit was still on fire, and the flames appeared to be spreading quite quickly.

Well, I had no desire to suffer the fate of Gus Grissom. I grabbed Zipp and we rolled to one side. We fell out of one side of the chopper and then I realised it was a short distance to the ground.

"Pop your wings open and glide!" Zipp called.

I nodded, and flared them to generate as much lift as possible. Within a few seconds of gliding, Zipp and I were on the ground alongside several other soldiers. Colonel Opwinden was busy checking the survivors, whilst Zoom was trying to put the fire in the cockpit out. Good idea. That helicopter probably still had a fair amount of fuel on it.

Zipp spoke up to announce her presence. "We're safe now."

The Colonel looked over in delight. "Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, you're both safe!" he exclaimed. He was sincerely joyful- after all, I had no clue what he would have done if either of us had gone to meet the maker. "Faust be praised, for she smiles upon us this day!"

Zoom dashed over, and stopped next to us. I glanced back and saw the fire had been put out.

"How bad a hit did we take?" Zipp asked.

Zoom's look of concern did not bode well. "It's not looking good. We lost most of the troops onboard the chopper when it crashed. Myself, the Colonel, two others, and the Royal Family are all that's left."

I noticed there were more supply bags than soldiers in the area. I could only assume we'd all be lifting our weight and pulling things with us as well. And carrying things on our backs as well. I didn't mind, and Zipp probably didn't, but I suspected Pipp would have been voicing objections to the entire thing as well.

Zipp, on the other hand, appeared to be studying a map. I glanced over her shoulder to try and pin down where we were, but the map was a bit unhelpful. There was a distinct lack of any discernible landmarks, which made figuring out where anything was a bit of an exercise in speculative guesswork.

Zipp sighed. "We're not in a good spot right now. Where exactly are we?"

The Colonel, who was also reading a map, glanced over to us. "According to my maps, we're stuck in the Peaks of Peril. Quite a long way from our destination of Bridlewood."

Well, there was a name I hadn't expected to hear again in a long time. I recalled that two of the characters of the prior Generation had visited the place, and had met a very chatty kirin who sang a lot. Wait. The kirin lived here.

They were a potential danger in the region. I had no clue if we were suddenly in severe danger, but that was a prospect I did not want to entertain. If the kirin turned out to be hostile, that would put us in a spot of bother, as we could scarcely afford to waste ammunition on a protracted ground battle. I also suspected none of these soldiers knew Men of Harlech.

I glanced back to Opwinden, who was still studying the map. "How long will this journey take?" I asked, trying to shake him out of thinking.

He glanced up to me. "Several days by hoof over difficult terrain," he said, looking worried. I hadn't seen that emotion in his face in quite a long time, as it suggested he was seriously out of his depth. Then again, I'd only been Queen Haven for a few weeks at most, so I wouldn't have had much chance to see his facial expressions.

He then continued. "This area is incredibly dense in terms of terrain, and has many changes of elevation between here and there. What little of it has been comprehensively mapped has large amounts of terrain missing. And who knows if there are still Kirin out there. We'll have to keep our watch out there if we're going to make it through this alive."

My immediate concerns were not with kirin, but with my own species. I looked back and saw the still smoking helicopter wreckage. That object was basically an enormous beacon for any of Gulfstream's forces who might be chasing us. After all, our escape from Zephyr Heights was not exactly what you'd call stealthy.

"What about the wreckage?" I asked "Should we dispose of it?"

Opwinden looked quite surprised at my question. "Your Majesty, I would strongly advise against that," he said. "We only have limited quantities of explosives and ammunition on us- which we might need if we have to do any unexpected tunnelling. I would personally advise we conserve resources for later as we continue our journey."

Well, I couldn't argue with that logic. I stepped over to the pile of supplies and slipped a bag onto my back before securing the bag in place with the front straps. I didn't want it bouncing about, after all. I adjusted my regalia underneath it- I hardly wanted that rubbing against my fur, after all. "I understand. Seeing as we've not got anything else we need to do here, apparently, shall we be on our way?"

I glanced about to see the others now grouped around the supply pile. "Well, go on. Pick some up. They won't move themselves."

The rest of the soldiers nodded, and one of them began whistling a marching tune as they collected the various bags and packs up and strapped them into place on their armour. The Colonel chose to take two- brave of him- and before long any of the supplies were collected up and ready to be moved.

The Colonel then acknowledged my instruction from earlier. "Yes, Your Majesty. FORM UP AND PREPARE TO MARCH!"

With incredible precision, the soldiers formed up into a single column two rows across, with myself and Zipp in the middle. This formation made sense- if anything were to inconvenience us they would shield us with their lives.

Zoom glanced forward. "I don't think we'll be marching over this terrain. Far too steep and rocky."

The Colonel snorted at this statement. "Whatever are you talking about? We are pegasi, we thrive anywhere!" He then looked back. "FOLLOW ME!"

As the formation set off, one of the soldiers decided to crack a joke. "Shame we left the drums and fifes at home, eh?"

I questioned to myself how pegasi would play a marching drum, but then remembered I had seen them doing just that with their wings at the parade.

"You'll have to make the noises, then!" said another. "Who'll take the trumpets?"

I chuckled quietly at the conversation. If nothing else it was helping to lighten the mood.

Author's Note

After quite a while away, we once more return to the ongoing adventures of Queen Haven, who now finds herself stranded in a strange place far from home.

A portion of the dialogue references the disastrous Apollo 1 test flight, where three Apollo astronauts-Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee-ended up trapped in the command module when it caught fire. The entire disaster was recorded on tape, which is publically available to listen to- if you do though, I will warn you the recording is highly disturbing. The disaster was recreated in the 2019 film First Man, and for anybody who knows their Apollo history the sequence makes for an excellent example of looming horror-you know those three men will never leave the capsule alive.

The reference to Men of Harlech alludes to the ending of the 1964 movie Zulu, where a group of British soldiers start singing it to rally themselves against what they suspect is the final assault. The use of this as the regimental song is anachronistic; the regiment depicted was based in Warwickshire at the time and would not adopt the song until several years later. Having said that, the scene is a stirring bit of cinema.

Fife and drum is a style of music associated with the British Army of the 18th Century. A fife is a small flute similar to the piccolo, which was highly prized by armies as it was extremely portable. Drums were used to keep time and issue orders on the battlefield, as in the noise of battle words would easily become garbled. The other consideration was that there was no guarantee every soldier spoke the same language- during the Revolutionary War, for example, both the British and Americans fielded large numbers of German mercenaries, most of whom spoke no English. As a result, drums were vital for conveying orders.

And onwards they go into the mountains. What may they find next?