All That's Left Behind

by Strayan Phoenix

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Roseluck, Other, Tragedy, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 7553

Amidst Discord's chaotic uprising, a time when ponies have been sporadically disappearing, life has become a bitter struggle for survival for those left behind. Set in the universe of 'Five Score Divided by Four', by Twisted Spectrum.

As ponies mysteriously begin disappearing in the wake of Discord's forceful usurpation of the throne, survival has become a desperate battle of life-and-death in a land gripped by Chaos, as houses become floating death-traps, the water tastes like sour lemonade, and the snozberries no longer taste like snozberries.
For those left behind, it will be the greatest test of courage and willpower they will ever face, amidst Equestria's darkest times.

This is their story.

Set in the universe of TwistedSpectrum's 'Five Score Divided by Four'.

Published 2013-06-01 04:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-01 04:40:02 UTC

All That's Left Behind

All That’s Left Behind

By Strayan Phoenix

Extracts from the journal of Roseluck, an Earth-Pony mare living in Ponyville at the time of Discord’s forceful usurpation of the Equestrian throne.

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Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Ten days. Ten long days it’s been since our Princesses and the Elements of Harmony were officially confirmed as ‘missing’. Ten days since Discord forcefully usurped the Equestrian throne and threw the balance of nature into complete disarray. Ten days since the Royal Guards were all effectively neutralised as an effective force. Ten days of utter hell.

The Elements of Harmony: Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity and Fluttershy. All gone.

Many of our close friends have fled their homes and disappeared into the wilderness in an attempt to escape the insanity, as their homes randomly became floating death-traps a thousand feet off the ground. Seriously, the first thing I noticed something fishy was up was when gravity suddenly tilted about, dropping eveything in my house against the back wall. I was nearly reduced to ribbons as all the knives in my drawer tumbled out and embedded themselves in a near-perfect sillouhette of myself. Frankly, I don't like heights, and I had to flag down a passing Pegasus in order to reach solid ground again.

Once I had packed a few essential items first, of course.

Many of Ponyville’s more noticeable residents, such as Ditzy, Cheerilee, Vinyl Scratch, Cloud Kicker, and even that mysterious stallion known as Time Turner. All of them are gone.

At least, that’s what we think became of them. Nopony really knows where anypony else has disappeared to, save for a few of us which have taken refuge in Zecora’s old hut in the Everfree Forest. Every new day brings a pony which has lost a relative or a friend. They never know what happened to them, or where they went, other than the fact that they were just gone.

The Zebra was always a bit of a social outcast and a loner, and in hindsight, it makes me feel guilty that I never opened my door for her. Everypony was rather suspicious of that mare, simply because she was so reclusive and mysterious.

Too late for that now.

Her cottage looks like it’s been trashed, and the lone occupant is nowhere in sight. I feel bad that we’re ransacking her house, her home, like this, but times are becoming desperate.

Applejack’s apple-orchard have been left untended for days now, and the amount of fresh apples available will not last more than a month at this rate, between our consumption, thieves and natural decay.

The weather has turned inexplicably sour, between Discord’s influence and a complete lack of a weather team to take on damage-control. All of the weather Pegasi are gone, Celestia-knows what happened to them.

The only clue we have is a wild tale from a straggler, I think her name was ‘Raindrops’, who burst in amongst our hiding spot out of the blue, exclaiming that she witnessed the Spirit of Chaos cast some sort of spell on her friend, who disappeared in a bright flash, never to be seen again. Discord then turned his attention to her and turned her wings into fish fillets, which dropped off her body a few moments later.

At least, that’s the story she told us.

Considering the events of the past few days, I’m starting to believe her. It’s very probable that Discord is certainly having a field day, but surely that can’t account for all of the ponies who have disappeared, can it?

Out of a village with a population of around a thousand inhabitants, there are now less than forty of us still around, clinging to the last desperate glimmers of hope for the future. Surely, even Discord can’t be responsible for the disappearance of nine hundred-plus ponies, can he?

My theory is that many of us have cracked, and gone insane. The last time Discord broke free, the situation was handled by the Elements of Harmony, and the situation was resolved within forty eight hours.

But now it’s been over a week, and Discord’s still rampant, with no Elements or even the Princesses to restore order to the situation. The gravity has gone haywire; all of the drinking water has been contaminated, and now tastes like sour lemon juice; wild animals are lurking the streets like predators, and I swear I saw an Earth pony randomly floating through the air, and it wasn’t Pinkie Pie for once.

It’s all so bizarre, and nopony knows how to handle the situation.

The only pony who’s really tried to take a stand since the Elements was Daring Do, but nopony has heard from her in more than two days, and we’re all starting to fear the worst.

It’s really difficult without her, because she was probably the only one of us who had any semblance of a spine. Nopony knows where she came from (she randomly showed up around five days ago) or why she was here, other than the fact that she was looking for an artifact called the ‘Alicorn Amulet’. In the three days she was with us, I’ve never seen a pony with so much drive and ambition still left in her, despite what all that was going on, and she was an inspiration for us. By the time she found what she was looking for, she was gone again.

It makes me feel ashamed when I think about it, that I never took up her offer for volunteers for her adventure. Unsurprisingly, no-pony else raised their hoof either, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that she was genuinely disappointed when she flew off all alone.

The Mayor Mare decided to create a small shrine in her honour: a simple headstone planted underneath Zecora’s tree, stating that in her demise, she probably took the last slice of Equestrian pride with her.

Of course, nopony has ever confirmed that anypony has actually died, per say, but to just disappear and never return... it’s certainly by no means off the table.

It was fortunate that Daisy and I happened to have several satchels of our respective namesake flower seeds in our bags as we fled home, and now that we’ve planted them all in a make-shift patch of dirt amongst Zecora’s strange herbs, so we’ll at least have something to eat within the next few weeks once they grow. Roses are simply divine to look at, and taste great too, but the issue is removing the thorns that grow on the stems, and since Zecora doesn’t seem to have a pair of proper gardening clippers anywhere, it’s going to be difficult to remove them by hoof. Daisies on the other hand, grow at much quicker rates, and will be more plentiful, but simply don’t quite have the same taste quality.

The Mayor, more than any other pony, has been taking this all very hard. The stresses of not only needing to keep herself in order, but nearly everypony else as well, has become very taxing on her, and we’re unsure of how she will hold up mentally over the next few days, with everypony so on-edge, and in the middle of the Everfree Forest as well.

All in all, we’re all exhausted from a lack of sleep, since the sun hasn’t set in over five days; the food supply is going to have to be rationed, so we’re all going to be rather hungry for a while; the stress has us all tense and on-edge, and at the rate we’re going, I doubt any of us will see the light at the end of this very dark tunnel.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

In the three weeks since I last wrote a journal entry, things have gone from bad to worse. While our numbers have increased as more survivors drift in, some of them have been reduced to nervous wrecks from their experiences, barely able to pull their weight anymore, and it’s a chore having to supply them with supplies they don’t even earn.

It turns out roses don’t grow so well amongst Zecora’s strange herbs, so now we’ve been resorting to send out a team of ponies to ‘borrow’ a load of apples from Applejack’s farm to keep up the demand for food resources.

The journey through the forest is arduous and full of peril, and sometimes I wonder why we bothered to make our home in the Everfree of all places. I’ve made the trip several times myself, and some of the stuff I’ve seen made me nauseous for days afterward. Seriously, I’ve never seen rats grow so big! What on earth are those beasts eating?!

Perhaps Discord’s chaotic magic has created a mutation, because now the dirty things are growing to the size of a small dog. For a rat, that’s huge! When they’re on their own, they can be easily dealt with relatively easily, but for some reason, they’ve developed a pack-mentality, and can generally be found in groups with no less than four individuals, so we’ve found.

There are these weird, giant, floating stones all over the place, and apparently walking directly underneath them triggers them to fall on top of you faster than you can blink. It’s become a minefield out there, and all it takes is one wrong slip.

I’ve never witnessed it myself, but this one time the food party returned home, they were one member short. The ponies looked like they had been to Tartarus and back, and it took some time before they finally opened up about what happened. We held a small funeral procession in the deceased’s memory, and that was the last we spoke of it.

Extra care has been taken to ensure that the last five remaining males amongst our little herd: a small blue colt with a ragged orange mane by the name of ‘Snips’; a khaki-coloured Pegasus from Cloudsdale, whose name I didn’t get; a rather posh-looking stallion named ‘Filthy Rich’, who seemed very much out of his element in the forest; the baker from Sugar Cube Corner, ‘Carrot Cake’; and the baker’s baby son, 'Pound Cake'; are all kept alive, no matter what.

They always get to eat first, and they’re always kept indoors, relatively safe within the confines of Zecora’s hut. Next in line of the to-care-for list are the rest of the foals, which make up around forty percent of our number, followed by the rest of us: the able-bodied, adult mares who have to pull the hard yards in ensuring that our haven is as safe as it can get, as well as supplying all of the food stock for the others.

It's a thankless task, and everypony lives in fear that they'll be called up next for food-scrounging duty. Considering the casualty rate amongst excursion teams, it's unsurprising, but somepony has to do it, and without us, this little endeavour for the future of pony-kind will quickly fall apart.

As much as nopony is willing to openly admit it, our numbers are going to have to replenish themselves somehow, but with such a limited gene pool between us, I doubt that there’s much hope for our future, beyond venturing beyond the borders of our little Everfree haven in search of any other potential survivors.

With ample building materials around us, we’ve been able to clear out some of the trees and build new shelters as our numbers slowly accumulate.

Unfortunately, Zecora for some reason decided to build her house smack-bang in the middle of Timberwolf-territory, and for the past few days, we’ve been on high alert for whenever they try to venture in to attack us.

Those of us who are Unicorns are often the first line of defence, using magic to repel the canine savages. I’m kind of glad those horn-heads are around, and we always ensure that there’s at least one member of the food-search-party who is a Unicorn.

The bad thing about all of this is that we’re becoming cramped for space, and meeting everypony’s needs is becoming a logistical nightmare. Finding food is easy enough, but finding fresh water which doesn’t taste like somepony urinated in it is a rare commodity. A Unicorn once even performed a diagnostics spell to make sure it was even drinkable, which it was, much to everypony’s surprise. In fact, there weren’t even a trace of any poisonous contaminants. So while you could probably live on it, it tastes like shit, and makes for a very poor cup of tea.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

We ran out of toilet paper the other day, and we had to send a team into Ponyville’s ruins to search somepony’s house for any fresh rolls. Instead, they came back with two of their members suffering from serious physical injuries, possibly induced by wild animal attacks, another member with half of her tail gone, and the last one missing altogether.

In future, all search teams will have a minimum amount of six members for safety: two Unicorns, two Pegasi, and two Earth Ponies, regardless of where they’re going or what they’re doing. We simply cannot risk many more casualties. There’s always at least one per venture, whether it be from an accident, or purposely induced by something else.

Poor old Nurse Redheart is a god-send. She’s stuck in the middle of nowhere like the rest of us, and has to make do with whatever rudimentary equipment she can find to help ponies with their injuries, almost running herself ragged to care for them. Some of us often lend a hoof to help out where we can, and she often guides us through the process of cleaning and bandaging wounds step-by-step. I reckon I’ve become pretty good at it. I should’ve applied for Medical school, if it weren’t for my cutie mark and occupation.

One journey I’ll never forget was when I was part of a team assigned to gather tools from Applejack’s barn. When we got there, we discovered that a Manticore had randomly decided to make itself at home inside. One brave Pegasus, again whose name I never got, boldly decided to act as bait and draw the Manticore away.

Splitting us up, she directed us to stand on either side of the barn door, and then once she had distracted the beast and drew it out, we were able to slip in behind, grab whatever we could, and then bolt like the wind.

What happened next is what stands out to me the most. Once we reached the safety of the tree line, I turned about for the mare, to find that she wasn't in sight. The manticore spotted us as we fled, and turned to make chase. The bold Pegasus dashed up unseen from behind and kicked the beast across the back of its head. The manticore reacted instantly, and I could hear a penny dropping from Canterlot, it became that deathly quiet. The mare had become impaled on the manticore's barbed tail, her face registering an expression of little more than defiant anger.

Something in the mare's hoof caught my eye, and her glare turned into a demented grin as she shoved a lit stick of dynamite into the beast's jaws (how she managed to obtain that so quickly is beyond me) before lunging forward and clamping herself around the beast's face. It took several moments for the manticore to register what was happening, but by then it was too late.

There was a resounding *boom* as both the mare and the manticore disappeared in a bright orange flash, kicking smoke and dust everywhere. When the dustcloud cleared, the top half of the manticore was completely gone, leaving a tattered and bloody pair of legs lying uselessly on the ground. Everything within ten metres had been painted red as small droplets of blood and clumps of charred flesh continued to rain down for several seconds. Even from where I was standing, I could feel that some of it had landed on my face.

The mare's valiant display of heroism for the sake of her companions shook me to my core, and ever since that day, I’ve made it my mission in life to put the others before myself. It’s not about ‘survival of the fittest’, here. We need to stick together as a team, as a community, and as long as we have the back of the pony next to us, somepony else will have ours.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

The mood has been very poor as of late. We managed to get a final headcount around seventy three ponies, of which seventeen are foals, eight are male, and three are both foals and male, leaving the remaining fifty-one of us to support the rest of the herd. Snips objected vehemently to being classified with children much younger than himself, but it was a minor detail that the rest of us overlooked.

There are many ponies still out there in the wilderness, lost and struggling for survival in this hell-hole that Equestria has become. And unfortunately, I don’t rate their hopes for their life expectancy to be very high. At least once a day, we get a straggler who managed to find their way to us, and the relief on their faces when they find some semblance of normalcy and civilisation is reassuring for the rest of us.

One of the more... weird ponies we encountered was a mare who randomly trotted up to me and asked, "Are you paying too much for your car insurance?" or something ridiculous like that. I mean seriously, what on earth is a 'car', and why would it require insurance?!

Just yesterday, another mare entered the haven limping heavily due to an enormous gash on her back leg. As Nurse Redheart frantically did her best to patch the wound up, the traveller explained that she was initially part of a small group, when they were attacked by a swarm of rats, and in their panic, they scattered in several different directions. She was anxious to know if any of her friends had been able to reach safety, but unfortunately nopony around matched the descriptions she gave.

Understandably, the mare broke into a crying fit, and very nearly went and stabbed herself with a carving knife.

We’re going to have to keep an eye on her in the future, I think. Don’t let her near sharp objects, tall cliffs or lakes.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Oh Sweet Celestia help us all. We should have seen it coming. There really is no such thing as ‘safety’ when you’re in the Everfree Forest, is there?

After just four months of hiding out in the wilderness, our supposedly-safe haven has been attacked by a Hydra of all things, scattering us all into the wilderness in blind panic. It was a complete and utter fiasco as we tried to assemble some vague notion of order, but I could see that our sense of rational thought had been thrown to the wind. The monster’s hide shrugged off any magical attacks the Unicorns threw at it, and physical assaults only resulted in an avoidable massacre.

By the time everypony had managed to begin rounding up what was left of us, there were at least twenty of our number unaccounted for, with around fifteen of them confirmed dead. Among them were Carrot Cake, his daughter Pumpkin Cake, and six other foals. The small, vulnerable children were sitting ducks, like lambs for the slaughter, and it haunts me for every moment that I live that I was forced to witness such barbaric violence, feeling so helpless to do anything to stop it. The other ponies that are also gone all had names, faces and back-stories. And I had even lived right next to most of them for most of my life. Now I’ll never know who they really were, beyond a name and a face, or what they did for a living. Now they’re just a statistic, and part of a traumatic memory.

This devastating loss of life is the heaviest we’ve suffered so far in a single half-hour period, and I don't think I've seen a pony nearly dehydrate themselves just from balling their eyes out so much. Poor Mrs Cake is a ragged mess, and Pound's entire personality seems to have turned on its head. Nopony hears so much as a peep from him anymore, and he spends his time draped across his mom's back like a cape.

The herd slowly retreated through the dense forage like a defeated army. Tired, hungry, cold, and low on morale were just the top of a long list of problems, which probably exceeded ninety nine at the last count. Several of us had even been afflicted by Poison Joke during their escape, the poor souls. Rat-attacks during the escape claimed several more injured, and at least another dead.

I'm really grateful my mother decided to add the 'luck' at the end of my name right about now, as it was a blind fluke I even made it out myself.

One of my saddlebags was destroyed, and effectively half of my personal belongings had to be abandoned; I think I tore about three different muscles in my back legs, and I counted at least eight different nasty scratches all over my body, probably made by flying debris or scraping against rough surfaces.

Returning to the haven to recover any supplies was out of the question. It simply wasn’t worth it, what with the Hydra still there, romping around searching for stragglers.

After scouring Ponyville for food and replacement equipment, a unanimous decision was made that we head to Dragon Mountain, where the Elements of Harmony managed to drive a dragon away from its resting place in a fabled encounter of epic proportions. There was no time to mourn the loss of the fallen, for we moved on as quickly as possible to avoid attracting too much more attention.

The sky above never seemed to remain one colour for long. One moment, it was purple, the next moment it was fluro-green. But the sun never set, and the moon never rose. At this rate, Equestria’s delicate ecology systems will all be killed off within a matter of weeks.

If we’re not still around to witness it first, that is.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

It's been two months since we’ve established our new place of refuge in the mountains. We’ve been able to salvage what we can, living off the land and keeping a wary eye out for each other.

I'm scared to fall asleep, because every time I do, I end up having the exact same nightmare, reliving the atrocity of that fateful afternoon.

I just... can't get that image out of my head, of somepony's leg nearly landing on top of me; a dismembered head staring up vacantly from its new perch on the forest floor, its eyes wide with fright, but never to register sight again. An entire Pegasus who strayed too close, snatched up and completely dismembered in a single, bone-snapping crunch.

Nor can I block out the haunting, wailing scream of the doomed in their final, grizly moments. I cannot keep a chill from running the length of my spine every time I hear it.

To hear mere foals still crying themselves to sleep each night, mourning the loss of a close friend, or a sibling, is a heart-breaking thing indeed. And not only that, but the fact that they themselves avoided such a same horrible fate by the skin of their teeth has scarred them for life.

They should be full of exuberant energy and infective happiness, symbols of Hope and Innocence, not withdrawn, shell-shocked zombies that cling to their mothers for strength and comfort, or each other when said mother is otherwise absent for one reason or another.

While the tainted memories of the tragic attack are still fresh on our minds, we have reluctantly pushed on, and have managed to recover some of our losses along the way.

In fact, just three weeks ago, one of the ponies who used to run the Day Spa, ‘Lotus’ I think her name is, fell pregnant, the foal most likely sired by an Earth-Pony stallion we found holding out in the ruins of his log cabin near Whitetail Woods about a month ago. It’s encouraging to me that there are ponies are still holding out hope for our future like that; ready and willing to take on the burden of creating the next generation, despite the current circumstances.

I myself am not that keen on falling preggers anytime soon. I simply can’t spare enough time for myself, let alone to devote to raising a foal. My commitments to the herd come before anything else, and if that means staying celibate, then so be it.

Now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure I'm due for my next estrus cycle soon...

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

The other day, a messenger arrived from Appleoosa, saying that they’ve been experiencing a rough time themselves, and are offering us things such as rations and other goods in exchange for a price which they did not specify.

While some of us are rather reluctant about this, we’ve decided to send a party to Appleoosa anyway, and they will send a train to Ponyville to pick us up.

Tomorrow, I will be the one in charge of organising the team, and I hope that we will be able to successfully establish a line of trade between our two groups.

Here’s to hoping that it’ll go well without a hitch.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

... We’re never going to Appleoosa again.

I’m amazed I’m even alive, after what those assholes did to us. I’ve never seen so many horny stallions in one place at the same time, and I tell you what, it’s no wonder there were hardly any mares still living there. The town is a total sausage-fest, and with Discord’s chaotic influence spreading far and wide, these crazy love-sick bastards had probably snapped and gone insane.

I’d almost feel sorry for them, if it weren’t for the demented grins on their faces as we entered town. In hindsight, that probably should’ve been my first clue that something wasn’t right.

The second sign were the ‘goods’ that they offered, and that was the trigger that we probably should get the heck outta there.

Unfortunately for us, their ambush included Buffalo, which effectively eliminated our chances of simply muscling our way through. Long story short, we were all captured, and what followed was a long thirteen hours of horror and tragic shame that I’d rather keep to myself, if you don’t mind. I’ve never felt so violated as a living being in my entire life, let’s put it that way.

Fortunately, the horrors drew to a close once they had started wolfing through the supply of alcohol and passed out on the floor, and Sparkler and I were able to pull off what we considered to be the greatest escape in Equestrian history, sneaking out all six of us past the sleeping, blind-drunk rapists, taking the train driver hostage on our way out.

The train-ride back into Ponyville was a long one; mostly spend trying to un-see what we had seen and experianced, with little success. The good news was that we were all amazingly still alive. The bad news is that I don’t think anyone who was in my entourage has been walking properly for the past twenty two hours, and I can’t seem to wash out that annoying, musky stench from my fur.

Upon our return, while the others were furious about what has happened (and rightly so), there is very little they can actually do about it, since Sparkler went and killed the only feller who could drive the train shortly after we got back to Ponyville, and we buried him in a ditch next to the track. To be honest, I’ve had enough of stallions for one decade, or even males in general at that, and at the time I dismissed his murder as ‘good riddance’.

In future, we will have to be much more careful when we interact with other survivor groups, to avoid another complete and utter disaster like this. It pains me that Equestria has been reduced to a land of savage vultures, focusing only on their own survival. It’s astonishing how much capacity we have for evil when all anarchy breaks out.

As if I didn't have enough content in my nightmares as it is.

It almost hurts as much as my hip.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Five weeks after the Appleoosa atrocity, and we’ve been able to solidify our position in our hiding place. It’s rather cold all the way up here, and the high-altitude means oxygen is rather thin. Several ponies have been complaining of light-headedness and dizzy spells, myself included, and the Mayor has commissioned the Unicorns to operate in four teams working shifts: One team using their magic in a simple spell to increase the oxygen in the vicinity, another team combining their magic into a heating spell, using their numbers for maximum efficiency, and the other two teams resting and ‘recharging’, as the horn-heads put it.

Of course the Pegasi aren’t really complaining, dismissing the rest of us as ‘soft ground-pounders’, or something derogative like that. Those bloody lucky feather brains and their natural resistance to the weather...

But in the end, there are no giant rats that can eat your hoof off all the way up here either, meaning we only have to watch out for the floating stones. This is probably the safest place in Equestria we’re ever going to find, I think. It’s a rather basic and primitive setting, but it’s safe, and I think that’s a fair trade-off given our circumstances. There are no chances of any rockslides caving us in, since we’re at the top of the mountain, which is an added bonus. The trouble is, a hundred ponies tend to inadvertently make a lot of ruckus, and rockslides down beneath us are a fairly common occurrence.

The issue is securing food. Water's not a problem; there’s a fresh water stream running just over a mile away, and while somepony has to make the two-mile round trip, we don’t even need to send more than two ponies at a time.

I’ve been feeling rather lethargic as of late, and the Nurse thinks it might be a case of iron-deficiency in my bloodstream. All this mountain air is probably getting to me.

But... in spite of that, I still struggle to find decent sleep, and whenever I do, I always seem to have the same damn nightmare. The Everfree Forest massacre is still haunting me, on top of the jeering, demonic laughter of those insane crackheads as they stand around, watching me suffer in agony.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Oh Celestia help me, I feel terrible.

I’ve been having trouble keeping my lunch down as of late, and I’ve been having rather strange cravings at meal-time. This one time I asked for chocolate topping on my portion of daisies, and the mare in charge of logistics simply gave me a strange look.

The lethargy has been taking its toll on me, and I’ve been having difficulty waking up in the mornings. Or at least what we approximate to be morning-time, anyway. When it was my turn to go fetch water from the creek with Aloe, I nearly fell asleep on my hooves several times. When we got back, my companion told me that I should probably see Nurse Redheart about it.

When I found an opportune moment, Nurse Redheart told me that she’ll run a diagnostic tomorrow, to make sure there’s nothing wrong with me.

I doubt that it’ll come back with anything positive.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

I have never hated males in my entire life more than I do right now.

To be honest, I wasn’t really all that surprised when one of the tests came back ‘positive’ for pregnancy. Getting gang-raped by stallions who never bothered to use any semblance of protection has a habit of doing that to a mare, especially when said mare is in estrus.

I have no idea who the sire could be, considering that I lost count at some point after about the fourth or fifth one. For some reason I seemed to be the most sought-after mare that terrible night. I mean, I can’t really help it if I’m lavishly attractive, but seriously! It’s not like I was the only one there!

What surprised me the most was that they didn’t murder us all when they were done with us.

I need to stop thinking of all that. It’s doing a number on my head.

Need sleep.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Pregnancy’s a bitch, let me tell you that.

Daisy made the comment to me the other day that I’ve possibly developed Bi-polar Disorder. I can’t exactly remember what my response was, but whatever I said, it probably wasn’t very nice. Or civil.

I think that’s why she’s been avoiding me like the plague for the past twenty four hours, along with nearly everypony else.

I should probably go apologise to them later.

Maybe when I’m not feeling like I’m about to die from exhaustion.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Today, a search party limited to Pegasi only was sent off to Cloudsdale to look for potential survivors and any more salvageable resources. With a bit of luck, they won’t get raped and come back pregnant like we did.

I’ve asked around the other mares that went with me to Appleoosa, and of them, only one out of the six of us wasn’t left carrying a foal. Sparkler had managed to cast a spell which temporarily rendered her impotent.

Lucky mare.

I swear, if I hear the word ‘Appleoosa’ again, I think I’m gonna puke.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

After nearly three weeks of waiting, the team that went to Cloudsdale has returned with terrible news.

With the Royal Princesses out of the picture, and the Royal Guards effectively disintergrated as a fighting force, Equestria's enemies have used this as a convenient time to invade all at once.

Griffons, Zebras, Dragons, Diamond Dogs.

All of them.

The country side has been turned into a wasteland by plundering armies, stripping the pastures for food, and ravaging the precious gem mines for their treasure troves, casually slaughtering and enslaving whoever stands in their way.

Since receiving the news, everypony here has become paranoid and nervous that we're next, and has placed a ban on anypony from leaving the mountain anymore.

And the worst part?

Discord hasn't even lifted a finger to put a stop to them.

He went to all that effort of shoving the Princesses out of the way and taking over the throne, and he hasn't even done anything with it so far.

Leadership requires responsibility and, to a degree, the ability to serve, and he's just waltzed in, taken over, and just neglects the welfare of his charges to the wind.

That said, Canterlot seems to be the only major city which remains untouched. The safest part of Equestria, ironically, is now to be as close to Discord as possible.

That's an oxymoron in and of itself.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Haven’t been able to write an entry for eight long months. I heavily injured my shoulder in a nasty fall shortly after the previous entry, and I’ve been unable to move much for quite a while now. Any movement just put stress on my shoulder, and frankly I got sick of trying very quickly.

It sort-of coincides with the fact that because I’m pregnant, my workload has been significantly reduced anyway.

A rather eccentric mare, I think she had been rendered insane by the events of the past year, came up to me one day and asked whether I "had been injured in an accident at work recently". She then rambled on about something called "worker's comp" and other strange nonsense like that. She seemed familiar, like as if I'd seen her somewhere before... but I digress.

My stomach looks bloated now, and Nurse Redheart says that the foal will be due within the next month or so. And about bucking time, too. Whatever it is, it possesses a nasty kick for such a small foal. Must be an Earth Pony.

One of the Spa Sisters, Aloe, I think, disappeared last week while fetching water from the creek. Lotus has become distraught with anxiety, exclaiming that she must’ve been crushed under a rock or something terrible like that. Just when the ponies are starting to settle down, something like this goes and happens.

A search party was sent out to look for her yesterday, but so far no trace of her has been found.

Only goodness knows what became of her. All we can do is hope that she’s alive and alright.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

After two weeks of frantic searching, the team has finally come back with some news.

And it’s not good.

All they brought back was the bucket Aloe was using to collect water, saying that they found it next to a boulder which had probably fallen and crushed her. The only trace left of her was a fore-hoof poking out from underneath the rock, half-covered in a thick, crusted layer of blood.

Lotus has gone into a deep state of depression, which isn’t going to help her case any, considering her foal is due within the next few days. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s almost ready to go into labour as I’m writing right about now.

Speaking of which, unfortunately one of my companions from... that journey was forced to have her foal prematurely, and the poor mare was informed with the devastating news that the foal, an Earth-Pony filly, didn’t survive more than twenty minutes after birth.

It turns out that a cave in a mountain-side isn’t very sanitary, and between the altitude, the bacteria, and general ill health, the foal was doomed from the start. We buried her near the cave entrance, marked with a simple wooden sign post.

The general mood about the place is very sobering indeed, and personally, I think that it wouldn’t kill anypony for fortune to give us some good news for once.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

Been feeling like shit recently. Nurse says that I just need to relax and take a breather. Lotus gave birth to a healthy Earth-Pony filly. My own foal can’t be too far off now. Probably won’t write another entry until after the birth.

See you on the other side.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

I think this is the first time I’ve felt euphoria in a long time. In fact, it’s beyond euphoria. Being able to hold my own foal, a healthy Pegasus colt I named in the spur of the moment ‘Electro Fortune’, in my own grip, has to be one of the most life-defining moments in my existence.

Who his father is no longer matters. What race of pony he is doesn’t matter. Heck, even the fact that he’s male doesn’t even faze me. I put in the hard yards to bring this little bundle into existence, and I swear on my honour that I’m going to make sure he has the best shot at life he can get, given his circumstances.

That’s probably a latent maternal instinct surfacing within me, but I’ll take whatever positive emotions I can get at this point.

Staring down at this alabaster foal’s bright golden eyes (the coat probably inherited from me) and his electric yellow mane (probably his father’s), I can’t really help myself from trembling with joy. A foal that I can call my own! It’s a feeling that cannot be described in mere words, and must be felt in the flesh to understand.

Now that I think about it, I don’t remember many faces from the Appleoosa fiasco, but the two faces which Electro instantly remind me of were the only two Pegasi who were present. One of them was a chrome-silver stallion with a jet-black mane, who I instantly labelled as a fuckwit the moment I laid eyes on him. The other Pegasus stallion was probably his brother, considering they shared a coat colour, but this one had a bright yellow mane, and was much more quiet and reserved, but still no less of a cunt.

And here in my hooves is the resulting hell-spawn from that dreadful encounter.

No, this one will be different.

I promise that I will raise my foal to respect mares as more than just objects that exist to be used like common toys. In spite of how his father may have been brought up, whoever he is, my child will not turn out like that deadbeat.

Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cup-cake in my eye.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

In the seven weeks since my last entry, life has been hectic. Even to this day, aftershocks of Discord’s influence are still rippling across the planet, throwing life into the shitter as it goes. Just this morning, when I woke up, my blanket had been turned into bacon, and Electro’s jury-rigged pacifier tasted suspiciously like black liquorice.

Not the most desirable way to start one’s day, I’ll admit.

Then again, Sparkler woke up with a cockroach perched on her snout, so I suppose it could be worse. But I digress.

Looking after Electro has become the forefront of my life, and Nurse Redheart has been very insistent on what I eat, so that way when the little tyke wants a feed, I’m not inadvertently pumping him full of unnecessary garbage.

He’s already running about all over the place, but for a foal as energetic and curious as he is, he doesn’t make much vocal noise, aside from crying for when he wants attention, a feed, a sleep, or a shit.

Cleaning up after him is annoying. I always used to watch and wonder in awe as to how Carrot and Cup Cake managed to multi-task running their bakery and looking after two of these little imps. I’m struggling to stay on top of the one foal as it is!

Celestia bless their souls.

Electro’s sleeping patterns are rather erratic, considering there’s no sense of ‘night-time’ or ‘day-time’ anymore. When he does fall asleep however, he tends to sleep like a log, which means I can catch some shut-eye myself.

I’m thankful that I have my friends Daisy and Lily around to help me. Whenever I need a breather, or for somepony to help me whenever Electro becomes difficult, those two will always drop everything to help me out.

Another thing which makes life still worth living.

Date: XX/XX/XXXX

I know it’s been months since I last wrote, but I just haven’t been able to find time!

Everypony’s been very on-edge and anxious about a report from one of our salvage teams returning back about spotting a rogue gang of bandits somewhere in the mountain range we are currently inhabiting.

As if invasions were bad enough, now there's this.

Rumour has it that they’re all from Appleoosa, judging by the outfits they were apparently wearing.

The Mayor has grimly stated that if they come within two miles of our home, we will kill every single one of them, as punishment for a) raping and molesting my team two years ago, and b) daring to show their worthless hides in spite of their reputation. Many of us share her sentiment, myself included.

Little Electro might not talk much, but he’s certainly more intelligent and observant than he lets on, and he visibly cringes whenever I start rambling on about his father.

*Ahem*, ‘sire’. That fuckwit is no father.

Granted, I usually inadvertently start swearing and carrying on whenever his face crosses my train of thought, and I think that at this rate, Electro’s going to either share my opinion, or think I’ve got a temper problem.

Probably the latter.

Even Daisy has pointed out that I’m not as so forgiving or tolerant as I used to be, and I have to admit she is probably right.

All of this chaotic madness, all of the death and suffering we’ve gone through; it’s a miracle I haven’t developed Posttraumatic Stress Disorder yet.

I guess the only thing that has kept me sane thus far is the knowledge that we’re still alive and in the company of close friends, and as long as we’re still alive, we can have hope for the future.

Lily, Daisy, Sparkler, Redheart, the Mayor, Lotus, and around a dozen other ponies who have been with me since the very beginning; we’ve struggled through the fire of adversity together. We survived the Hydra massacre. We survived floating landmines, giant rats, toxic water, Poison Joke, crazy rapists, and even an invasion.

If we can last this long without snapping, then there is always the hope that we will be able to see this nightmare through, and we’ll be able to withstand whatever other horrors Discord might throw at us.

All we need to do is just hold out, and hope.

Author's Note

Warning: Story content is prone to change, whenever the author randomly decides that something requires changing.