I.
It was a perfectly sunny day in Ponyville. While most of the town had been out enjoying the sunshine Twilight, as was her usual habit, had taken the opportunity to catch up on a little spring cleaning around the house.
"Spike!" she cried, "Come finish up stacking these last few books. Spike?"
"Hey! Twilight!” cried the baby dragon running towards her with a stack of somewhat ancient-looking scrolls, “Take a look at what I just found!"
"Spike. Where did you find these?"
"I was cleaning behind the book case next to the stairs and they just happened to fall on my nose."
"Well, how did they get there?"
"How should I know. Have you ever thought about checking behind the bookcases once in a while for stuff that may of fallen down there?"
“Not necessarily.”
Twilight unfolded one of the scrolls.
"They certainly look old. I wonder how they managed to stay behind there so long?"
"What do they say?"
"They look like some kind of diary."
"Well that figures."
"And the dates... they look as if they're from... Oh my! The beginning of Canterlot!"
"Nagh, they couldn't be that old."
“But they are!”
Twilight carefully blew away the significant amount of dust that had accumulated upon them from years of neglect.
"If this is some kind of diary, imagine what life was like for them living back then?"
"Why would I even wanna live back that long ago? I bet it was probably all boring and stuff--"
"Do you think it's a diary of a well-known princess? A king, even a peasant?" Twilight exclaimed getting more and more excited.
"Why don't you just read it and find out?" Spike insisted.
"Oh, well duh! What a good idea."
“You could say that again. Apart from some other ideas you‘ve had…”
But Twilight wasn’t paying attention. She had already unfolded another one of the scrolls and began reading…
II.
August 28th, 42 B.C.P.E [1]
I have watched brave soldiers march off to battle, some returning to such warm welcomes and paraded through the streets on the fellow citizens shoulders and heralded for their bravery, while others, their memories endowed to the elements of time, are never to return.
It has been nearly fifty years since a majority of us crossed the great plains to set our differences aside and start a new place called home. Our trek had not been easy, neither had it been uneventful. Though we wish to settle in peace, there are many who wish that not be the case.
If you must ask, my magic, quite ahead of it's time, is what has earned me a position among thousands within the Royal Canterlot Army. Though at first I was skeptic to it's uses, I was later assured by Princess Celestia herself that it's impact would have been beneficial, not only serving our most esteemed military in battle, but in protecting the lives of my fellow comrades.
Setting these preliminary considerations aside, I am at most apprehensive and giddy, not knowing whether or not I can prove myself worthy of this mighty task in serving her majesty Princess Celestia. I have seen little of battle and know even less of how to fight, let alone how to hurl a lance the proper way. How I am to even handle myself I cannot imagine. To add to this, there have even been some in our ranks who've called me greenhorn; a mare not fit to be a colt. Oh, what cruel fate!
Maybe some pony who finds these entries will understand my apprehensions in being thrust into a world I feel wholly at odds with. But because our future kingdom, governed by our most fair and just ruler, has been in dire straights to find those who can willingly defend it's right and title as the bastion of pony-kind, I take the call most loyally pledging my oath to serve my kingdom till the end of time… It is in Celestia of whom I trust!
September 5th, 42 B.C.P.E
I along with my squadron have finally been assigned under our new commander. The emotions I have cannot be described. For one, I have been exhibiting great anxiety as it has been the first time I will be under strict supervision of a superior. In my studies, I was beholden only unto myself. Now most begrudgingly, I must adapt to these new circumstances of having to obey one of so firm and strict a nature.
The king... and he is a king... whom we serve under is a difficult one at most. Though he is himself a true, brave warrior, he does not fail to show how bold, and oftentimes how irrational he truly is. Many of our colts are quite intimidated by his presence and few even show fear when he saunters before us. To tell the truth I don’t even know his name, only that he growls when he speaks, and snarls when he disapproves of something or some pony. It is as if he regards us as nothing more than a pair of fledgling army mid-mares!
I point this out because after one of our latest battles, a tedious but one nevertheless well fought, I fool-heartedly sought to question his strategy used in advancing upon the ranks of our enemy, an action of which I should have highly regretted and one part of my getting used to this new life I lead. This is not the only time I have forgot my place as a soldier.
Yet, returning to our superior in charge... Having merely asked him whether he should have considered some other alternatives of ambush, like advancing upon our enemy from both flanks taking him both swiftly and surely, he turned upon me with flaming eyes and called me a ninny-goat, a preaching ignoramus and the likes and vowed I should be punished should I dare question his authority again, even promising to have me confined to the dark chambers of Canterlot..
Afterwards, some of the troops of my squadron pointed out that I had done the most brash and stupidest thing ever in a young military pony’s career. 'One never questions ones’ Superior!' they jeered, ‘It makes us look bad.’ Oh how I nearly burst into tears right then and there!
But apart from this little flub, there have been many occasions when I, whether voluntarily or out of some hidden motive or spite governed by fear, have willingly praised his actions either before or upon the eve of battle. His response is to appear as one smitten and flattered although he utters not a single word. And yet in such honesty, is it possible that none but myself are willing enough to bear his constant berations?...
September 12th, 42 B.C.P.E
I grow weary of drills, attack formations, and battle charges but must continue owing a pledge to our majesty, Princess Celestia, and may she reign as a true paragon of virtue!
At best I am not the greatest soldier that ever lived. Even my superiors know that and yet they understand and appreciate why I am here.
I have been rigorously engaged in conjuring up the most elementary of spells to outfit those in our army who can use it. One of these spells, for example is the Deflection spell, a rather simple defensive spell I undertook while studying at the School for Gifted Unicorns. I have taught it to nearly every single unicorn in our regiment, many of whom are either ill-suited for focusing their energies on such skilled magic or over-work themselves to the bone only to meet with defeat.
If you could just look at our lot! Practically all of those among us have used their magic to perform simple tasks, such as picking up a pair of scissors or turning the pages of a book. Hence, I understand Celestia's urgency in outfitting these rough-and-tumble soldiers with the most rudimentary of spells, greatly increasing our chances ten-to-one over our unforeseen enemies.
Do I have my doubts we truly have what it takes to defend Canterlot? Have I stept rather irresponsibly into an error of judgment--I admit--am I teaching the right magic? Is there a possibly that some creature or creatures out there have magic more skilled than that of any unicorn known living?
These are but some of the thoughts as I role onto the sheets thinking about what tomorrow brings...
September 24th, 42 B.C.P.E
It has been nearly two weeks and we have seen very little battle. Much of our time has been spent telling jokes, dancing, and engaging in laughter. We have been fed enough but I wonder what is enough, for our leader does not partake in either dancing or laughing, but sulking. He is continually yelling at our lesser-ranking colts who dare stray within his path, even going as far as to punish those who otherwise have never seen a single punishment in their career. It twists one's appetite to know what makes him tick.
On a more lighter note, the Princess has sent me a letter which promises that upon my return to Canterlot I shall be given the chief honor of building the new wing of what will become the royal Canterlot library. This greatly cheered me up, and filled my heart with something akin to gratitude, for my efforts in serving the Canterlot Army have not gone unnoticed by some, including the Princess herself.
Ah... but I have nearly forgotten the reason for such simple letter! A while back we had been given an important mission to escort the great Princess Platinum, heir to the unicorns, in an attempt to negotiate a treaty between the inhabitants of Ghastly Gorge and Canterlot. During our perilous trek which did not come without it's surprises, including an accident with one of our troops nearly drowning in a great well of mud which comes with the terrain I believe, the princess had wandered off to gather some water when she found herself surrounded by a group of beastly wolves.
Hearing her screams and following the odious stench these creatures exhumed, I was quickly able to use the Confinement spell upon these hounds banishing them back to the forests, the dark and dingy places from whence they came.
The Princess indeed was forever grateful, and yet my choice in using the Confinement spell was not entirely unintentional or without merit. The Timberwolves are subservient to nobody and owe nothing to anypony. During many a night we can hear their constant howling and wake up the next morning to discover our camps have been desecrated and looted. They come from the woods down to the valleys, especially where we make camp. Some in our ranks refuse to fight them, for these creatures have… /what should I call it/… a knack for reassembling themselves once they have been attacked with our crude but not entirely useless weapons. They are timberwolves, and a timberwolf is nothing more than an assemblage of sticks, timber, and stone.
Hence, the spell itself will keep them as well as the horrid stench they make confined to the Everfree Forest where they can howl and loot as much as they please...
October 14th, 42 B.C.P.E
Boredom has become quite a common staple around here. As to the elemental use of magic, little in the way of progress has been made. I have now begun skipping nights of much needed rest in order to teach myself new material that will help aid our soldiers in acquiring the spells necessary for battle. Luckily, there has been very little activity going around which has been, if not utterly beneficial to or training.
And yet, a most curious incident occurred. For it was last night I noticed something that struck me as both odd and indeed, troubling. For our captain usually patrols the camp late at night appearing as he always does; cross, moody, and for the most part sullenly observant of all around him. And yet something about him seemed different.
As he took his walk, he happened to come across a member of his ranks who had been assigned to polish some of his battle accoutrement. Seeing the trooper had not properly polished his gold metal helmet, he flew into a rage, striking the cadet squarely in the jaw and throwing him back quite a distance. Swiftly advancing upon him, he rose as if to strike him another blow, but stopped. The reason for this was quite simple. I, having just this once decided to disobey curfew, had taken a stroll about the camp to ease my weary mind and upon hearing somepony's approach, quickly dived behind some shrubbery.
Not knowing whether I had been discovered or not I peeped through the bushes and espied, silhouetted by the moonlight, our captain, raised on his hind-quarters ready to deal his victim another blow,--as I have already mentioned. Trying to get a closer look my hoof happened to step on a twig causing it to snap,--and most loudly too.
One cannot imagine how I feared for my life that very moment. What punishment awaited me then, I could not dare put my self to imagine! But luckily, for our commander, he merely stood as though one who has been brought out of a reverie. Without another word he turned and stalked back to his tent, but not before muttering something about an 'ineffective army’ or what I heard anyhow. Thankfully, I was able to get back to my tent without anypony seeing me…
To some this may seem trivial, but it has done nothing but fill me with consternation. And yet rumors have been circulating…
For one why does it not strike one as odd why /He/ is chosen to lead our ranks? Even before this I have begun repeatedly asking myself many questions. What has he done to become captain of the Royal Army? I have even thought upon sending a letter to the Princess expressing my concerns, but have since talked my self out of it, fearing the result it may cause.
… but alas! The night is waning and the wolves howl in the distance.
October 27th, 42 B.C.P.E
We are becoming increasingly vigilant for a threat against Canterlot has been made. My magic though is too premature to tell who it is making these threats. Many among us believe it is only precautionary to send scouts over the hills to spot any sort of activity that could possibly be regarded as ominous of an impending skirmish. No matter though, our troops stand at the ready including myself.
In the meanwhile, little acts of kindness have not gone unwanted here and there among our makeshift camp. We are beginning to realize that our food supply is running short, and not enough food is able to go around to all those in need. Though it would be highly convenient to send an emissary back to Canterlot for supplies, we have been given word that even they are facing similar shortages. Shortly we will come to the realization that there will only be two meals served per day in order to save for the harsh winter that is yet to ensue. And though fields have been planted, either the pillaging armies or just rotten luck have hindered us to a certain extremity.
Nevertheless, you would be amazed at how many in our ranks take this to heart. Here and there a soldier is willing to give up his meal, even a piece of apple pie to one who is needier than he and how that one repays him with some much needed service, such as cleaning and sharpening his lance, or polishing his uniform armory. By and by, you could not go without noticing how each and every pony in our outfit is both fed and sparkling from head to hoof!
On a more personal note, something tells me that our leader is not what we expect him to be. For the past few days I have been trying to uncover anything about him as I possibly can. While on leave I returned to Canterlot and searched through the archives multiple times only to come up empty-handed and with not even a single lead on which to go by. I have even conversed with some of our troops, supposing they know anything of his whereabouts, or perhaps his name, but it all turns out to be the same discouraging reply.
Even so, we rarely talk about anything but our families, our homes, and the potential futures we shall have once this war is over. As for I, my future will lie back within the books that bore me, and most importantly, my studies on the uses and properties of magic...
November 4th, 42 B.C.P.E
Our scouts have returned with grave news. There is an advancing army approaching, perhaps five-thousand strong from the South East, comprised entirely of brutish-looking beasts who I believe have come from the Badlands and the mountains surrounding them. Word has been sent back to Canterlot for re-enforcements, but to our dismay, all the men we could be using have been assigned to fortifying and protecting the city from a possible invasion.
Believe me. Though Canterlot sits snuggly within the highest mountain range, there are plenty of access roads and paths to which invading armies can just as easily make use of. Mares and fillies have been safely shut-up within the walls protecting the city, as well as every available hand helping to throw up blockades meant to impede these villains from setting as much as a hare's foot inside Canterlot.
But the day of battle dawns none of the less... My first real battle and I fear that what I have tried so hard to teach to those in our brigade may not come to fruition. These past few days have been rigorous. I have been frantically teaching as many spells as I can. Bit by bit those in our ranks seem to be getting the upper hoof of it, but it is only a few dozen or so out of an entire army of perhaps four-thousand or more. Could these few be able to hold back an entire infantry of brutes with just a couple of spells? And what magic they possess is beyond anypony's guess. Though I have gone as far as to set up the Protection spell, there are doubts to it's complete effectiveness.
On another note, I at last know the name of our most esteemed leader, though I offer no surprises in having not known his name beforehand. To his people he is known as Sombra the Great, a harsh but effective King among the simple race known as the Crystal Ponies, who live deep within the frozen North. I have read much about them, that they are a hapless and pure race and in the light of the crystal heart, their centrifuge of power, their coats give off a magnificent crystalline glow lasting only as long as the joy in their hearts.
How they are able to put up with a brash and often abusive king I can only conjecture. For on the eve of battle he absolutely refuses to come out of his tent, rarely speaking to anypony and taking his meals in seclusion. None are even allowed to enter his premises under pain of death. Many wonder whether he will show himself on the very day of battle, and yet I must be candid; surmises mean next to nothing.
The regaling atmosphere at night has all but ceased and is filled with the melancholy notes of the lute. All about me fellow soldiers tremble and stand ill at ease. With no one to comfort or inspire them, even I have broke this drollness by proclaiming all who'd hear me to stand firm, to remember that who you are fighting for is for the princess' sake!
And yet my doubts mount over our King--I will not withhold my concerns! Day by day, hour by hour and he prefers to remain locked away in his tent, giving no word or sign to anypony! It is shear madness! Has he been warned of the impending danger? Even then you cannot fathom how tempted I've been to go up and speak with him. The only thing preventing me is my rank… and perhaps fear. Fear of what could happen should I dare question his authority again. Having been a soldier less than a few months, I know well whose control I am under.
And yet, if it is not that then there is the night how his temper got the best of him and a shiver rises up my mane. Truthfully, it does little to prevent me from thrusting a wayward glance, every now and then, towards his tent with emotions mixed, expecting him to slither out of his hiding place and shout orders.
But alas! The light grows dim and I can barely see the page in front of me... Celestia knows whether I shall be around to write again...
November 8th, 42 B.C.P.E
He has turned upon us! Our King has decided that his gluttonous lust for power is more important than the lives and honor of his troops. Oh, what onslaught there was amongst our ranks that never has been seen before in the history of Equestria! And our captain--our captain simply vanished, giving no orders whatsoever! As the dawn of battle approached one of our soldiers reluctantly ventured into his tent to find he was gone!
How can I write with a heavy heart what followed afterwards. About early morning there came the blast of a trumpet followed by the sounds of marching hooves. Every colt, unicorn, and pegasi had been stationed at his post and watched gravely as the tips of the other army's gleaming helmets rose with the sun upon the horizon. They were the most deplorable of beasts, trolls, dragons, and most of all the most ghastly looking pegacorns that one ever laid eyes on.
It was also at this time that Sombra, though no one else among us knows him by that name, was discovered missing. Not one amongst our ranks would have been skilled enough to take his place, but it did not matter. We were outnumbered two-to-one. But for the sake of Equestria we would not lay down our arms and give up that easily. Their captain, a big ugly-looking troll was sent ahead and ordered our immediate surrender only to be taken aback by how fervently we refused his offer.
‘What is to be done?' asked our second officer in charge. There was some hesitation before an officer below him replied 'We fight!' and our men cheered in accordance. There was a flurry of hooves as soldiers dawned their battle gear and were handed their weapons. I was immediately stationed in front of a long line of unicorns, the first flank of defense and many of whom I had faith could equally perform the numerous defense spells I had taught them. How I recall my fears quickly springing up inside me as I stood prepared for the ensuing war about to begin. But it was the oath...To protect, and defend that melted all my fears away making my spirit as tough as horse shoe nails.
It was such that I encouraged my men to put every ounce of courage into defeating their foes, telling them that there was no one else who trusted them more than I did. It seemed to of worked for their fears vanished almost instantly.
But all in all though leaderless, we would have put up a brave fight. As the first wave of our opponents army advanced, I waited as long as I could before the order was given to fire, my men using one of my most handy of spells, the Reverse spell which caught our foes instantly off guard. Try as though they might they could not control themselves from being hurled over backwards into their ranks, dispersing many of their own while causing confusion amongst others... We managed this quite a number of times. But it wouldn't last long.
Had I known the power of the Badland magic I would have fully comprehended how strong it truly was compared to ours. The spells I had taught were no use against our enemies counter spells. Though only under normal circumstance would they of worked fine, it was simply too much concentration on the part of our troops that prevented any of them from using what took me a less than a few months to achieve. In a matter of moments we were being pushed back as more and more of our foes came smashing though our ranks. Eventually we had our backs up against the mountains, attacks being conducted on every side.
As for I, upon being somehow separated from my men I was able to continue the fight by repelling a good many of our enemies until fate had it that I stumbled upon some rocks and become wedged between a huge boulder. It was then I saw with such horror how our men were being beaten back. Though I pleaded earnestly for my brave colts to keep on fighting, it was no use. Out of fear and lack of more skilled training, we were eventually surrounded.
And so as our defenses fell, so did those of Canterlot, and with it all our hopes and dreams…
November 11th[2], 42 B.C.P.E
This is my last entry, for as the sun rises in just a few hours, I shall make my way over the precipice where I am to meet my doom. Being the last of my rank who would truly defend the honor of Equestria from the invading armies who seek it's ruin--I have been pondering this moment, even shedding tears at it's untimely arrival. It is not only this that I am unable to write, as it is due to the un-expected and thoroughly horrifying discovery that I have made upon the fall of Canterlot.
It was thus upon our surrender, many of us wounded, that the King of the opposing army gave us a choice; leave Canterlot or be forever entombed within the chambers deep beneath the earth's surface. Of course there were those, families with young colts and fillies especially who choose to gather their belongings and go, but for our brave military, instead of taking defeat we choose the latter.
The King laughed very heartily at this and even called us fools choosing such un-wise a fate even going as far as to spare us with further protestations of leniency, but it did not un-soften our men who stood firm in their decision to perish than abandon their kingdom. As a result the King ordered us confined to the dungeons for the time being and twas then as we were being led away that I caught a glimpse of something that clearly froze my heart to it's core. Who should be standing there, be-decked in such coarse finery but King Sombra himself, our once glorious leader.
He was standing there, a winning look in his eye with hardly a trace of remorse anywhere throughout his entire body. What could have been considered pity was simply regret at having not abandoned us sooner.
Oh, how my heart filled with such fury! How I trembled with defeat and rage! This was his plan! To abandon us and join the forces of darkness meant to cast it's cold and twisted shadow all over Equestria! To of belittled us and chided us one minute and then turn his back and flee the next. It had all come to this! It was that my unbridled rage got the better of me and looking at him I shouted, 'You are no King but one who has brought great shame and dishonor!'
Those words I uttered stung him to the quick and for a while he gazed furiously upon me, the hatred in his eyes nearly too much to bear. I thought he was about to deal me a crushing blow with his magic, but instead he just glared at me before breaking out into one of the most villainous grins.
My comrades shivered at what I was yet about to propose, for in my soul this wrong King Sombra had committed against not just us but Princess Celestia was not about to go unnoticed! Though young, I was not altogether stupid to allow honor to be desacrilidged in such a fashion!
For it was then and there I challenged him to a duel! A duel were the winner should have his way while the loser take whatever punishment given him. My terms were clear, that Canterlot should be freed and never harassed again, which had it not been for some heated arguments and snickers among much of their army, was finally agreed upon. For they knew, I was no match… or did they? The day fixed for this very duel was at sundown three days from then.
And with that, no more was said…
Throughout the following days my comrades, though supportive of me, have observed the troubled look I give. The little cheer they give me though does somewhat give me strength. And yet thoughts of doubt have not plagued me so much. What mercy have I not already begged in my heart that this day had been but a hoax; the agony each second brings closer to the moment where I should be blighted forever from eternity? Though I am young, I am not in anyways afraid. For in honor is no such thing as fear.
My doubts about Sombra must of been true! He is as cruel as he is his betrayal has left me a defeating blow... who can I trust? How can I mend what now is un-mendable? But do I feel such thoughts? I admit a change has happened in me, one I cannot explain.
It is funny though, I am quite confident and ready for this day to come whatever it may bring. Never before have I felt so sure of it that even the shinning of the sun fills me so full of hope. Ah, Celestia! If we could but meet again the things I’d tell you. I stand, like would all my fellow soldiers ready at the helm. There is no turning back... I am prepared to meet my maker... Au revoir …
III.
Twilight stopped.
"Is that it?" asked Spike. "But isn't there any more?"
Carefully she re-read the scroll and it was then her heart stopped.
“Spike!” she said with a grin, “Remember I told you about the story of the soldier who was able to rescue Canterlot from certain doom and destruction and yet no one could find a single trace of who that very soldier was?”
“Yeah?”
For at the very bottom of the scroll was thus signed in the most elegant cursive;
Starswirl the Bearded.
Author's Note
[1] Before. Common. Pony. Era
[2] Initially the Founding of Veterans Day in Canterlot
