The sharp growls snapped behind her. Misa Amore’s lungs burned like fire. Her hooves barely touched the ground as she sped forward for her life. The dark creature’s thunderous mass splintered the streets of Canterlot into cracks and dust. Barely maintaining the edge, she urged herself forward despite ever looming collapse. Smells of fire and fear blew past in foul-smelling winds. Everything hurt. Nonetheless, duty and honor presided. Shallowing, huffing, puffing breaths. Pure desire flowed. Winter’s cold air bitterly wafted.
She narrowly dodged piercing tendrils again and again. Her comrades had already fallen. Rolling to the left as another shot, then galloping right, she snorted. Her blood-smothered green mane whipped like fire through the cracks in her fractured helmet. Fresh wounds littered her pale yellow skin. Misa’s bloodshot blue eyes somehow guided just in time–time and time again. Her wings shuffled and dodged on their own accord, courtesy of instinct.
Sunshine shone upon the remnants of her golden, beaten armor. From one end of the city to the other, it was a miracle only fellow guards had died. It was them or the citizens. They–no, only she now– only had one shot to make the lure count. Misa gritted her teeth to focus on the mission. The roars felt far yet close each moment she clacked against the stone tiling. The streets lie empty for the unseeable beast and her. Everyone else hid.
She must live.
For all of them.
To do any less implied her to not be a protector.
The swelling surrounding her right eye throbbed. Misa followed a faint orange aura of sparks as best she could with her remaining eye. Its thundering form howled, air whistling under its command. It continuously failed to impale her as they danced. She must move ever swifter than it. Its sensory presence rumbled behind her. A creature beyond comprehension, she dared not turn her eyes back, lest they become burnt with what she could not understand. Black mist haunted the edges of her vision.
Momentarily distracting thoughts caused a near-critical fumble. Heart pounding, Misa turned the corner, her flanks scraping the corner of a residence. The presence of a newly opened, elongated gash projected itself with a burning. She ignored the suffering. As a royal guard, it meant nothing to her. Onward. The trail of magic blazed, only seen by her. Clenching her jaws, she followed hotly. Slips of ice tried her. Pounding tremors continued to chase.
Being bait was her job.
She'd be proud of it every single time.
The end of Canterlot came closer and closer. Iron railing was present. Misa honed her thoughts. Shimmering orange led off the side of the mountain, veering suddenly to the left as she reached the very edge of usable flat ground. Its quaking breath snarled, mindlessly unaware. Fear attempted to sabotage, but Misa threw it away instantly. Grunting, Misa unfurled her wings, stretching in preparation for agony. Quickly, she leaped over. But not fast enough. Metal claws contacted her hind leg with fervor. A series of fractures channeled.
Misa ignored the cracking splits as she ascended with a launch, narrowly avoiding tumbling down a cliff. Height lent itself. Flapping furiously, she guided herself downward. Freezing drafts at least mitigated the almost unbearable pain, if only a little. Leg dangling, she swung her other leg in tandem to balance herself out. The boom of the beast jumping onto the cliffside, of it scrambling down the cliffside, reached. Misa narrowed her face.
Banking to the left, the orange indicated a stretch around the mountainside. A considerably dangerous angle, but a necessary risk. Misa strained every fiber in her wing muscles to guide her along the right path. Tearing muscles jostled and broken bones rattled. Loss of blood caused eyesight to start to succumb to flashes of the black. Turning the corner of the mountain, her altitude lowered. Trees shredded below. She just dodged massive splinters.
The sloping mountainside soon teetered right beside her. Further roars vibrated the air, almost causing Misa to slam against it. She told herself she would make it. Gushes of winter fury swept over her as she felt the stony surfaces graze her wing tips. Swerving deadly shots of sharded ice, avoiding being torn apart, fueled her ability to overpower death’s whispering closeness. Misa felt her exhaustion taking its toll. She ignored it.
A minute later, another bank revealed a snowy valley. Her wings began to freeze, issuing a cramp as she glided over. She could not sustain this much longer. Misa found herself weakening rapidly, strong as her will might be. Misa gulped–the plain was slowly disintegrating. She knew this creature drew power from the living beings. Instead of fretting, she made a decision.
She’d have to put her soul on the line. Not her life. She gave that up long ago. Instead, the possibility of scrambling her existence. Misa twirled–the physical effort almost collapsing her–around a massive trunk splinter. Its demonic howls echoed in anger. She ignored her draining morale. Exploiting it by playing with herself was the only option now. Breathing in, Misa let the refreshing wave wash over her. No one else could do this. So she must.
Misa glided towards the end of the valley’s exit. The weight of everything, her body, and her state of mind seem to intertwine as if an incomprehensible anchor pulling at her, rapidly trying to spoil her descent. She had to make it if anyone in Canterlot, much less herself, was to survive further catastrophe. The tree roof edged closer and closer, her hooves grazing past peaking bristles. Whiteness and cold unfurled themselves as she headed closer.
Dodging the taller trees, she could smell their evergreen scents. Closing in, she closed her eyes for a moment. She could do this. The pounding of the blood in her head served to continually ignite her focus. The agony of her twisted leg only inspired her to keep on her target. A series of encrypted sounds popped from the creature. The creature’s threats, the gasping brush of its magic upon her soul, pressed a lingering of doubt forward.
To do this, Misa must believe.
And to that question, her heart helped.
She remembered those who fell.
Their love and sacrifice,
Opening her eyes, she prepared.
In a flash, Misa wrapped her wings close to her body, bundling her broken limb alongside. The rest of her legs retracted into a ball shape. Air whistled in response to her velocity. With mighty force, she crashed deep into the breezing snow. It rushed all around and over, burying her in its suffocating layers, attempting to smother her in the crater she built. Shaking pounded throughout as she sank.
Between the instincts to scream, breathe, and flail, icy water poured down her throat. Tears sprang while it piled in, choking. Misa clawed at the substance above. Radiating pure white brilliance nearly blinded her. Misa writhed. A hoof burst out as snow kept filling her sputtering maw. Before it could cave in entirely, she managed to drive her other hoof out. Grasping at the edge, Misa managed to find a densely packed ice brick within for purchase.
Her muzzle broke the surface as adrenaline rushed. Sweat drenched as she clawed with no traction. The pain in her leg practically doubled. Lacerations spiked as her skin ground upon the rocky soil beneath. The sounds of the beast drew closer and closer. The orange trail had sparked brightly at the valley’s end so near to her, only a few hundred feet away from her current grave. So near.
The snow threatened to collapse as she struggled to hurl it away with her wings. Confusing movements compounded. The chaotic mix of six distressed limbs could not bring forth the full brunt of her body. Despite the ability to breathe, to scarcely see the clouds, Misa couldn’t uplift. Each time she found a purchase, more layers slipped in. Breathing like that of a great dragon echoed nearer. Everything swirled into a panic as Misa failed over and over to climb out.
Misa shrieked at the top of her lungs.
Pure rage drove as if a spike nailed into her lungs.
She would not fail those who she had lost today.
Power surged through her as never before.
She did not know why.
Only that she must accomplish her duties.
Biting into the snow, Misa at last threw herself out just as the trees cart lengths away from her tore away into the blue open sky, briefly flying. Her broken leg screamed as she forced it to run with her brethren. It hurt beyond Tartarus. Wings flapped to gain every possible advantage in speed. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale–her lungs worked into overdrive. As in Canterlot, a black aura tempted her to look behind. Misa did no such thing.
Blood pulsing, beats of the wind funneling into her sprint of life. To survive. To serve, Her dented armor clanked as she clamored to the edge of the valley. Each hoof step piled onto each other as the beast amped its attempts to drain her. By the second, she experienced her life force ripped away, destroying her. But she refused to allow her soul breaking to break her spirit. She reached into her heart and carried onward.
And with that, a surge of will powered her once more.
The orange trail exploded into a towering shell.
Beneath the blood, she could see them ahead.
At the valley’s edge awaited her comrades in arms.
The only ones who could, in the only location near. Canterlot.
Another attack of claws ripped her flank just as she swerved a shot of tendrils. Flesh from her side literally ripped out. Misa bit her tongue to prevent an outcry. Eyes watered. Icy caressed her wings. The last of her reserves depleted. For all reason, she shouldn’t be able to go farther. Misa still forced her body forward. Magic’s bright promise told her she’d survive as a reward for her efforts.
The final few feet finally presented. Letting out a battle cry, Misa threw herself through the magical barrier. Mild waves of electricity rejuvenate her to complete the last seconds of movement. The creature, realizing the trap too late, could not stop its momentum. It roared behind her as the assault started. Misa looked away as her comrades began to entangle it, however, they did so.
Unable to stand properly, Misa found herself collapsing into the snow. The world began to dim. Shouts for a medic barely reached her ringing hearing. Blackening eyes, slowing vision. Misa chuckled as the cold set in. Senses clipped, replaced by the feeling of being handled with care. Cavernous roars faded away. Lightness overtook her–probably her armor being stripped. Or perhaps it was the high of jubilation.
She had done it.
Done herself, and them, proud.
Duty, and honor, preserved.
Resting. Healing. Soothing. Those would come with sweetness now. Misa closed her eyes to the beautiful white. She knew not how much time passed before the blur of serenity set in. The music of the creature dying acted as a melody of tranquility. The tickling of caking, drying, leaked blood. Heart racing, content with another debt settled, she settled in, ready for a long nap.
