They arrive in full force, her fearsome soldiers, her army of the Sun. The first to join, to stand by her side, is a filly whose name slips away from her tongue, a blue-horned young unicorn who seemed to be Sacre's friend. Black eyes turn to glance at the other, fire and gratitude fierce in her face. The battle cry echoes through harsh, empty night, and is met with mass, a great copper form descent from the sky, bronze wings extended to create mass and space. Tandavi blinks at the beautiful beast, momentarily taken by his grandiose glory.
She quickly recovers, moving to pull herself alongside the brute. That he intends to protect her does not enter her mind- they are all here to protect them, their family, the weak and seeping and frightened and good.
They are joined by more, the spotted Rei who told stories in the ice, a mystery mare garbed in splashes of gold, and for a moment she thinks that perhaps the others are right, that the foes will forge a quick retreat, intimidated by the weight of their wrath. She thinks it, but does not believe it, not for an instant. The darkness of the world runs too deep.
So when four retreat she watches the one, and realizes there is naught she can do. Why it goes for the champagne and not her, the filly does not know- but she screams her silent rage that this has been the case, that she cannot bear the pain for her family, that she is too far away, trapped on the other side of Hector, unable to help, to move, to do anything but watch, watch as the battle unfolds and the lion launches up, over...
Toward Cera, who has fallen from the sky like a comet of the Sun.
She has never seen a battle before, not so close, not so deadly. She fled when Lace was attacked by the Beast, hid when the Basin invaded her home. Now, met with the cruelty of war and the fear of her peers, she finds in her heart naught but loathing. She feels helpless, useless, a wraith on the wind. She has only one thing left, one weapon in her arsenal.
She focuses on the sun.
Had Lace not chosen now to appear, things may have been different, with disastrous results. Tandavi raises the bright sun high, preparing to hurl it at the lion, to ignite and explode in a flurry of fire, blind to the lack of logic in this act. It is Lace's strong voice which catches her mind, grabs it and holds it in fearsome embrace. Light, she thinks, momentarily dazed- light, and alters the course of the sun, following Lace's and increasing in size to shed vibrant daylight across the battlefield.
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