Blight of The War Horse (Reforged)

“Back, I see?” Softly chuckled an elderly voice, “If you stayed out any longer, I’d believe the bears snagged you!” He said, laughing.

Presenting a warm smile, Flash Freeze lightly shook her head while setting fish-stuffed sacks beside the inactive clay kiln. "Save me the concern, Father. If ever the unlikely occurrence I'd cross paths with a grizzly, pray for the latter." She playfully retorted. Departing from the kiln's flank, Flash Freeze quickly reached and posed opposite the aged patriarch, divided between a varnished, oaken plateau, its brilliant sheen dancing brightly beneath light rays streaming through the hut's sole, stick-frame window.

Another voice sighed, exasperated. “Dear Goddess, you’re silly!” A mareish voice groaned worryingly. “I should’ve never let those colts infect your fragile mind.” She mumbled.

Flash Freeze shrugged, staying silent in favor of examining her afternoon meal: Μπάλα κοτόπουλου, three spherical stuff pastries containing shredded meats, vegetables, and several spices. Steam gently rolled off their golden-brown hides, wafting directly into Flash Frezze's muzzle, sharp traces of honey, chicken, and cinnamon causing her mouth to water. Highlighting her enticing main course, It required everything she held not to instantly guzzle down the mug of mead a hair's width outside her left hoof's reach. "Bah! Fragile," Swift Strike scoffed, "Never in my life had anypony tumble down a cliff and survived with just scratches- our little filly's built sturdier than a royal palace!" He stated proudly. Yet, his sentiment wasn't mutual, as Flash Freeze's culinary fantasies abruptly halted as she mentally cringed.

“Well, she wouldn’t have fallen if she’d looked where her hooves were, running alongside that abhorred mountainside.” She shivered. “I’ve had my fair share of death-taunting moments when you broke your leg, mister. I don’t care if my sweet foal was born from the Goddess’s bones- she still gets hurt, regardless. How’s she going to hitch a nice, respectable stallion and live a proper mare’s life if she gets crippled- or worse?”

“Mother, that happened winters ago.” Flash Freeze interjected, rolling her eyes. “Unlike before, I’m not ignorant enough to unknowingly rush onward. I’ve matured!” She protested, desperately trying to end this conversation before her freshly baked meal turned cold.

The now visibly miffed white-haired, amber-coated mare on her right redirected her semi-glaring, sky-blue eyes at Flash, frowning.

“Sometimes I wonder, seeing as you didn’t take the safe path to the river.” She deadpanned, seeing multiple scratches where branches grazed Flash’s body.

“...”

“...”

“...Can we eat now?” Swift Strike asked tiredly.

“...Yes.” Flash’s mother replied evenly.

All three earth ponies fell pleasantly silent, connecting their hooves and reciting a brief prayer before picking apart their identical dishes. Flash's mother devoured hers slowly but efficiently, finishing one hoof-sized pastry in three to four miniature bites, creating no mess. In contrast, Swift Strike expressed reckless abandonment, tearing into his food like a rabid wolf and its prey and noisily chugging his mead- which always stopped, thanks to her mother's critical stare. Flaring Dawn, Flash's Mother, embodied what defined a matriarch, including an- overbearing -flaw or two, but meant well. Cook, clean, teach, and nurture, there wasn't anything she couldn't do. Long ago, when Flash first met and befriended some local hooligans to join their adventures, her mother worried from Hades and back, especially if she returned home presenting a new scrap or cut. Even after their village's shekel-hungry unicorn gang became too much and they successfully escaped, Flaring Dawn's efforts increased tenfold. Living amongst uncharted mountains proved stressful, and nopony other than her understood that fully. While Flash Freeze occasionally finds Flaring Dawn's strict and overly cautious nature bothersome, she does her best to satisfy her mother’s wishes. The towering mare could handle herself if need be, but fighting wasn’t as important as gathering food or firewood. Swift Strike and Flaring Dawn were getting old, leaving Flash the majority brunt of labor, not that she complained…often.

“Moving on. Flash, have you repaired the wagon and tended to the livestock?” Her Mother asked, cleaning her lips with a cloth. “And keep your elbows off the table; sit up!” She hastily added.

Flash nodded, “Yes, ma’am, getting to the nearest village shouldn’t be challenging. And our critters are looking as healthy as ever.” She reported, straightening her arching spine. The closest- and only spice-rich -village was ten leagues north, taking forty minutes to travel briskly on a clear day. Also, besides Flash partaking in odd jobs to gather extra shekel’s, Swift Strike works as their local butcher.

The working stallion chuckled, “Good job, kid, ‘proud of you.” He said.

Despite her Father's kindly praise, Flash Freeze's smile dropped.

It felt like she had forgotten something important, a distant, foggy memory that crushed her tightening chest and scolded her wet eyes. Peering through her right side, the withered Goddess stood motionless, cracks adorning its base. To Flash Freeze's left, the hut's standalone window. Why did everything outside resemble a wet oil painting? Surely, luscious trees and dew-covered grass didn't spontaneously smudge, forming incoherent blobs, right? Swallowing a restrictive lump forming inside her throat, Flash opened her strangely dry mouth.

“Hey, um, Mother. Father? Do you see what’s happening out-?” Turning back to her parents, the massive mare’s voice disappeared, shock decorating her features.

“A shame,” Swift Strike voiced, noticeably more downtrodden than seconds prior, frowning sadly. “I’d hope you wouldn’t awaken this early. How the years fly by.” He sighed, his head dipping. Similarly solemn but not meeting her daughter's gaze, a teary-eyed Flaring Dawn weakly suppressed a sob, covering her mouth.

“Oh, dear…” She repeatedly muttered, shaking.

“Mother! Uh, Dad, what are-!” Flash Freeze’s right hoof shot up and placed her white-hot upper left foreleg inside a death grip, suppressing an agonizing shriek as the feeling of warm liquid drenched her coat and hoof. “Agh! What’s going on?!” She grunted through gritted teeth, the hut’s smooth walls cracking and crumbling around her. “Ah, it hurts!”

Swift Strike, remaining unspoken, stole a momentary look at his collapsing home, then back to Flash. “I’d wish nothing more than to comfort you, dear. But, it’s time to wake up.” He chuckled bitterly.

Forgetting her suffering limb and rotting surroundings, Flash Freeze shot her father a bizarre look. “Speak plain, Father! Agh! W-We need to leave.” She panicked.

Sadly, trying to stand resulted in Flash barely moving an inch. Confused, she looked down-

-and screamed.

Clawing, tearing her thighs apart like starving beasts, chipped, decaying hooves tore at her legs, serrated blades ripping off bleeding chunks and strips not dissimilar to tree bark. Their owners appeared straight from Hades itself, rotting carcasses producing loud, bloody, and guttural moans, their layered whispering too fast and loud for Flash to discern. Oh, Goddess, nothing could hopefully reach the level of unimaginable torment she felt, the torture of a hundred red-glowing branding irons tirelessly stabbing her exposed muscle. “H-Help!” Flash cried, borderline hyperventilating.

“I can’t.” Swift Strike firmly said, baffling his daughter. “This isn’t real, Flash. You need to calm down.”

“P-Please!” She repeated.

“Calm down.” Flaring Dawn interjected, her voice just above a frail whisper.

Flash Freeze wasn’t listening, the ringing becoming overwhelming the more she thrashed and bashed against her attackers’ hooves, receiving little change. Flash Freeze was going to die! Why were they sitting there?! Pain, pain, pain! She begged anypony to end her misery- to put an end to this nightmare! “Mother! Father! I beg of you, please stop this!” Full-on bawling by this point, Flash Freeze didn’t care about the tears blinding her vision, her attackers’ appendages crawling up her trembling frame.

Then, a tender hoof touched her shoulder.

Holding off her thrashing, Flash saw Swift Strike’s forced but reassuring smile push through the teary veil.

“Breathe.” He said.

“Da-D-!” She tried saying again but was interrupted.

“Breathe. It’ll be alright. Trust yourself as you’ve trusted us, my little warrior.”

Hesitantly, Flash Freeze closed her muzzle and eyes, and everything outside her eyelids soon became silent. In and out. The towering mare's chest raised and lowered, redoing the same relaxing motions until her shaky breaths flattened out. In and out. Cool, tumbling currents washed over her, a nostalgic, comforting sensation finding its way into her chest once more. In and out. Her Father's words echoed inside her head; it isn't real; calm down. In and out. The Vanguard didn't teach her to yield before panic. In and out. Opening her eyes after what seemed an eternity, she gasped quietly at the cliff-side view ahead, the air smelling of pine sap and firewood as Celestia's sun dipped below the mountain-littered, twilight horizon. "W-Wait? Who's Celest-"

"Aw, you already started?" Whined a disturbingly familiar voice. Hearing it, She absentmindedly dropped a skinned white rabbit and crimson-coated blade.

Materializing on her right, a notably older and faintly disappointed Sky Slicer stole the log seat's vacant spot on her right, carrying a hoof-crafted knife and second, limp, rabbit. "I know you're eager, Storm, but at least wait until I grab my trusty dagger!" He laughed lightly, much to her confusion and disbelief.

"...S-Sky?" Storm Breaker sputtered owlishly.

The matured stallion’s smile partially sank, quirking a troubled eyebrow in suspicion. "Yes? That's me. Are you feeling alright? It looks like you've seen a phantom." He joked, sheepishly laughing. Sky Slicer's older appearance, voice, and eyes, disregarding her outward bewilderment, stunned Storm Breaker, who violently flinched hearing her comrade's question. “Woah!” He shouted, leaning back.

Storm Breaker, realizing her blunder, regained her composure and nodded, “Yes, Sky, I’m fine. I was just lost- thinking.” She sloppily lied, unwilling to entertain the nightmarish memories that’d occurred moments ago.

Sky Slicer scowled softly, obviously not buying her act.

“I-It was about my parents.” She begrudgingly included, diverting her awkward gaze toward the snow underneath her heavy hind hooves. Their aged, sunken face sent shivers up her back, remembering their solenm looks. It couldn’t have been a mere stray thought- she still felt those savage hooves scraping her burning legs raw. Luckily, the stubborn stallion snorted passively, satisfied with her answer.

“So, have any more stories you have before I joined the Vanguard?” He politely asked.

Taking his dagger, Storm Breaker watched as he perfectly skinned the plump, snow-white rabbit from neck to tail, not a hint of disgust infecting his content expression. “It’s been a while since you’ve told me one after Gran’s funeral. Maybe a tale containing her likeness? No, that’s too soon. Sorry, Storm.” He apologized. What was he talking abo-.

Oh! Stupid Storm Breaker, wrapped up within her thought that somepony like Sky Slicer unnerved her. Shameful, really. Gran's declining health is why her comrades went their respective ways, indirectly including the end of the three tribal feud and Windego's reign. That's who Celestia is, an alicorn of myth who mysteriously appeared one day and united unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies alike- everypony knew that by now. And there hadn't been a word from the Vanguard past their assistance of Gran's send-off, her corpse's ashes scattered across the ever-constant drafts by now. In numerous ways, the melting frost, creeping green, and frequenting chirps were worth suffering for so that every earth pony could experience what she only dreamed of. Swift Strike recounted the same tired fables of green grounds, breathing trees, and exotic creatures prancing beneath the flame-hot sun. Last fortnight, Storm Breaker discovered a curious thing sluggishly trudging alongside the riverbank- a pint-sized, armored dragon. Although the armor mostly covered its back. The warrior mare initially thought the strange creature to be hurt, but getting closer had frightened the knee-high beast, equally shocking Storm when its legs and head retreated inward.

Ah, look at her rambling again. The point is that a lot has changed; she could hardly keep track. Fillies and colts today using the improper ‘I’ instead of ‘Thou’ these days- how time flies by. It reminded the warrior mare of her younger years.

“It’s alright, kid. No harm. Gram wouldn’t want us fussing about her anyway.” She giggled.

Sky Slicer chuckled, “Here’s to hoping her ghost doesn’t come back to haunt us.” He said, presenting a freshly skewered rabbit. “Imagine hearing one of her lectures come midnight.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” She replied, “Say, your undressing skills have improved.”

Huh, when did Sky build a fire pit? Nevertheless, the matured stallion placed his skewered rabbit atop crackling flames, hoisted by two cross-shaped supports. “Thanks. I’ve learned it from the best.” He said, giving a knowing grin before reclaiming his spot. “That reminds me, I wanted to say something to you.” Sky Slicer perked, beaming. Turning his upper body, he gave Storm a good view into his eyes.

"You've done many things for me and everypony you've saved. I know you don't like praise, but you're more than a loud, battle-hungry soldier out for blood. My life until meeting you guys was as good as any earth ponies during those dark years, and I didn't want to waste away, to go outside under constant fear of death. Your group gave me an opportunity! But you. I was comfortable being around you, the mirrored version I'd never hoped to achieve." A grimace inexplicably crossed Sky, sighing. "This isn't much coming out of me, considering I'm not the real Sky Slicer. But, as your memories of him, it isn't your fault."

"Huh?" Storm Breaker sounded.

Without warning, the matured stallion fell forward, wrapping his forelegs around Storm's torso and squeezing firmly. "You always said plans never go as expected. There wasn't a thing you could've done. You’ve shown me the true bravery and courage of a warrior, and I used what I learned to save you guys." He softly said.

Feeling her trembling lower lip, a numb Storm scoffed. "Don't say that! There had to be a way. I…could’ve saved you." She feebly argued.

"Nevertheless, it's true." Sky retorted instantly, "That doesn’t mean you're any worse for living afterward- you, and everypony else, cared and kept fighting. I won’t hate you for it. And, for what it is worth, I'm sorry. Never had I intended to cause you such grief." He said. Parting his embrace, Sky Slicer turned upward, following an onyx-colored, golden helmet-wearing raven descending on them. The elegant bird flawlessly perched atop Sky's outstretched foreleg, cawing loudly.

"Dreams sure are weird, huh?" He asked, laughing.

Storm’s lead-heavy forelegs bent inward, stopping at her chest level. “I-I…don’t want this to be a dream!” She begged foalishly, seeing her hooves absent of moisture or melted snow as her parents’ elderly faces smiled within her memory. It didn’t even fell cold.

Sadly, the matured stallion frowned, “Me too. Dreams are magnificent, temporary escapes, Storm.” Lowering his foreleg, Sky Slicer threw the helmet-wearing raven caw perch skyward, the majestic avian flapping its expansive wings. “Yet, there are those waiting for you to wake up. I won’t lie and say things to make you think whatever comes next will be easy or pleasant, but all I ask is that you try. Live the life we all strive to live. Be your best self.” He smiled, facing the shrinking raven silhouette in the distance. “You were always short-sighted, though, focused on the now rather than later. So let me say one final thing.”

Caught off guard, Storm Breaker watched Sky Slicer’s memory stand, his look inviting her to join. “Kid…” She muttered, rising.

“If you ever find the real Sky Slicer, give me- him one of your uncle’s peaches. You can’t forget the looks he gave you every time you brought them up.” He said.

…The weeping Storm Breaker hugged Sky’s memory, her legs ready to buckle.

Regardless of the approaching uneasiness and painful dread plaguing her brief, sweet dreams, the warrior mare strongly resisted abandoning Sky Slicer, no matter what form he took, her culminated memories of him or not. Nonetheless, she reluctantly let go, discovering the matured stallion nowhere in sight, a moaning, blood-soaked mass of darkness growing in her vision’s far corner. Facing away, Storm Breaker took a deep, easy breath as the picturesque horizon darkened, stars decorating the night sky. The earth below her hooves shifted, one pounding, the rest tensing.

In and out.

It hadn’t taken the warrior mare three bounds to cross the open space, leap above the roaring fire, and straight off the cliffside.

In and out.

The unruly, untamable winds pushed Storm’s body faster and faster downward, the warrior’s eyes closing and letting gravity do its magic. She hoped to the Goddess this truly was all a dream.

In and out.

Then, the world went blank.

In and…

Where am I?

Clenching my sore jaws, chipped teeth alight with fiery pain, I resist groaning. Goddess, I hurt- worse than that damn three-headed snake.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Oh, you’ve got to be joking.

Yep, cheap bed sheets rubbing against my bandaged-covered body like sandpaper, revolting disinfectant scents souring my already dilapidated lungs, obnoxiously loud contraptions blaring beside my ringing, muffled ears? Fuck me, I hate hospitals. It also didn’t help that my stomach’s performing backflips- hopefully I had lost my second eye, so I won’t experience whatever tortuous vertigo awaited me.

“You’re finally awake!” Agh! You noisy, insensitive prick! “Ah, my apologies, ma’am! You surprised me.” If my good eye wasn’t covered I’d glare. Whatever, he was making excuses because I practically buried myself into this crappy bed from shock. Hearing the likely white coat-wearing doctor’s clops closed-in, I forced myself to relax, even when his hooves ripped off the bed sheet. Feeling the fridged, metal disk glide across my chest, he hummed happily. “This might come too late, but refrain from sudden movement, Ms. Storm. Your week-old injuries haven’t fully healed, and your unique physiology is delaying our available unicorns’ recovery spells.” He idly said, removing his metal disk seconds later, finishing his brief examination.

I flinched subtly, “A-A…week?” I tried saying, producing frail, dry words. A full week! How many bad habits do I have?!

The Doctor hummed affirmatively, “Correct. It’s a miracle you're awake right now- we expected, at most, two weeks.” He happily announced. “I must admit, every academic and physician aware of your existence has a right to be star-struck. A pony able to passively counteract outside mana input. It’s unheard of outside non-magically dependent, ancient ponies such as yourself. No offense.” Awkwardly laughing, I practically felt his recoiling expression.

“None taken,” I replied, softening my tone for comfort, “Just tell me what I missed.”

“Very well.”

For the duration of an hour, the unseen doctor recounted the aforementioned few days Storm Breaker missed. Shortly after Captain Shining Armor and his newlywed wife sent Queen Ego Trip and her boot-licking off-spring to high-Υπέροχο αεροπλάνο, Canterlot started licking its wounds. Everypony scrapped changeling guts off walls, unclogged rubble-blocked streets, and administered first aid for injured civilians, leaving Canterlot primarily clean once the aftermath's third day broke dawn. And, somehow, ponies still attended the Love Alicorn's wedding beforehoof, neverminding how appalling the battle left the Castle's royal gardens- including an afterparty, song number and everything. The Elements of Harmony themselves were safely secured, and Celestia gave Twilight's gang full, 24/7 ownership to avoid future incidents. Canterlot's all but rebuilt, the nobles are happy, yada yada, and life is now hunky dory again. I stopped listening halfway through, trapped in the middle of fatigue, a skull-splitting headache, and the doctor's droning, overly professional voice.

Suddenly, the doctor gasped, “One more thing, ma’am. Princess Luna requested me to pass on a message once you’ve awakened.” He said, regaining my interest. “As the master of dreams, Her Majesty attempted numerous times to elevate your minor anoxic coma via the dreamscape. Safe to say it worked. During this time, she observed your dreams, which she explicitly withheld for personal wellbeing.”

I snorted. I’ve heard about Luna’s ability here and there, some guards telling each other their personal encounters on break. How long had I been asleep? My parents. Sky Slicer. Maybe my other comrades? How often did I reenact fictional scenes with them, unaware of the physical world? I didn’t see Luna- is there a reason for that? Whatever the case may be, I nodded again, pressing a hoof against my temple.

“Is that so? What’d she find?” I replied flatly.

“Due to your overabundance of concern regarding a particular stallion, I’m happy to inform you that Ex-Senior Advisor and guard captain Olive Branch is alive and healthy.

Finishing off his latest coughing fit, Olive Branch pounded his armorless, bandaged chest, regretting it instantly afterward. “Ah! Damnit!” He whisper-shouted, not wanting to disturb other patients mulling about Canterlot General’s open courtyard.

Too bad, sleeping on the grass wasn’t an option unless he felt like climbing into his newfound wheelchair- bad back and all. Brand-spankin’ new, he might add; strap a rocket behind it, and its stainless-steel wheels would haul his happy ass to Dodge Junction and back without an oil change or tune-up! “Dear Celestia, being old sucks.” He moped, frowning. Don’t drink! It’s bad for your recovery! The doctors constantly complained. “Wadda they know about liquor? Lightweights, a young buck like myself can handle a small sip.” He chuckled. Without his partner, liquor was about the next best thing to keep him young and level-headed. Searching for somepony or a doctor- and finding nopony -watching him, the elderly stallion mischievously chuckled, reaching his wheelchair’s blanket-concealed underside.

Reamurging, Olive held Storm Breaker’s gift triumphantly, the flask like a golden bar in his hoof.

“Getting you past security better be worth what’s inside, little guy.” He grinned. Brandishing a ghastly dent on one side, Olive Branch’s victorious grin shifted into a mirthful smile, giving the flask a shallow swirl. Chrysalis’s blast did a nasty number on his chest, Olive admitted. However, if not for Storm’s Flask and a rushed shield he conjured above his chest, a giant, purple bruise and fractured spine would’ve been the least problematic- and fatal -outcome. “Cheers! To healing magic and my lovely friend.” He toasted openly.

“Please, somepony, stop that mad-mare!”

“My leg!”

“Halt!”

“Mrs, you’re in no condition to move!”

Ah, earlier than he expected. Like a converging tornado, several panicked cries intermingled with loud crashing, muffled behind the courtyard's rear glass walls, alerted the nearby ex-guard. Olive Branch smiled, daintily sipping his flask before, BANG, both doors connecting the hospital's cafeteria and courtyard exploded outward.

“WHERE HIS HE?!” A familiar voice demanded.

Turning his wheelchair on grass was challenging, dirt and mud caking its wheels, but Olive managed alone- provided his, frankly, overworked nurse stood nearby, conversing with her co-workers. Poor thing’s eye bags were larger than her eyes; flipping him around wasn’t worth her time. What he didn’t manage, though, was a several-hundred-pound mare half-tackling, half-hugging him onto the ground, trapping his neck in a bear hug. Luckily, their short-lived crash ended without Olive’s chest completely caving, Storm Breaker’s incoherent blessings and apologies filling his ears as medical staff and guards came toward him. “And the Colts say I lost my charm.” He joked, patting his partner’s back. “I’m glad to see you, darling, but please get off me. This old timer’s had enough rough-n’-tumbling for a while.”

Storm Breaker nodded, letting go reluctantly and moving back, providing a prone Olive Branch a decent view. However, Olive overstated her physical appearance as ‘decent,’ a dark grimace overtaking his expression. “Storm…your leg.” He said in a low tone. Once where a mighty, tree-thick limb stood, a bloody-bandaged stump remained, sporting one of many dangling I.V tubes sprinkled across Storm’s similarly battered, stitched, freshly scarred, and mummified figure.

“I…that doesn’t matter,” She instantly replied, clearing her loosely-covered right eye of tears, her facial wrappings looping her head, obscuring her right cheek and scalp. “You’re here. I couldn’t be happier.” She smiled brightly.

Just as Storm began slumping over, exhausted and weak, her royal guard pursuers caught her, gently laying out the massive mare while doctors brought out the stretcher. One particular doctor stood out: Storm’s first day, modern-Equestrian contact, and his alcohol-hating dictator. “Dr. Sawbones. My partner giving you trouble again?” Olive laughed, the breathless physician panting heavily, kneeling over.

“Who…knew a- *wheeze* -three-legged…pony,” Dr. Sawbones raised a silencing hoof, “could run…so fast?” He finished. Olive chuckled again; yep, it sounded part of the course for Storm.

Waiting for Sawbones to regain his breathing, Olive offered his flask, “Need this?” He asked.

Raising an exasperated brow, Dr. Sawbones roughly snatched Olive’s gift, pocketing it within his pearly-white coat. “No, I’m still on duty, sir. And that’ll be confiscated until your release.” He scolded, receiving a deflated look. “Otherwise, Luna will be raising her moon soon. I suggest you rest well. Good day.” Before Olive could protest, the physician ran off, following the unconscious Storm Breaker inside.

His tired nurse departing from her co-worker’s conversations, Olive sighed.

“I hate hospitals.” He grumbled.