Frozen Hearts

Chapters

Chapter 1: We Grin
Chapter 2: Welcome to The Family
Chapter 3: The Royal Dinner
Chapter 4: The Blood Hunger
Chapter 5: The Teacher
Chapter 6: The Warning

Chapter 1: We Grin

Chapter 1
We Grin

The excitement ran like lightning through the crowd as they gathered, awaiting the Warlord's address. Pegasi were packed into the small pavilion, standing too close for any to fan out their wings. Any room that would have been between the grouped horses was taken up by snow. The pavilion was built of white cloud, shaped into curving arches and spiraling columns with a big amphitheater set center forward, for all to see. The pegasi stood in lines; soldiers up front, gruesome scars forcing their grim smiles. Flanking the army were civilians, who were backed themselves by the elderly. The high guards hovered over the entrances to the pavilion, and flew high across the sky, watching down on their charge.

Rainbow Dash stood among the soldiers; while she had not earned the honor to smile yet, she was still a recruit and given almost the same honor. She kept her head forward, her neck straight and her back stiff. She was to be a solider after all, soon to bear her burden and earn her grin. The crowds murmuring annoyed her, but nothing could compare with the claustrophobia. With wings pressed tight against her body, the confined space was unbearable. She had always felt truly at home in the sky, the wind running through her buzz cut mane and short, tied back tail. Dash swore she could taste the sweet air on her tongue now, and hear the whine of the breeze being cut through. She shifted her stance, much to the chagrin to the cream hued stallion to the right of her. He shot her a glare.

"Keep still, Blankie." He growled, raising his back hoof to kick her on the flank.

Rainbow blushed, embarrassed and enraged, but more of the latter than the former was shown to the adjacent pegasus. Shoving her wings back to cover her bare flank she muttered back, "You haven't got your grin yet either, whelp, and a mark in bakery doesn't scream 'master warrior' to me, or anypony else," whispering a shout, force and venom dripping off the words. "So, I am not your target." She checked him with her hip. "Don't treat me like it."

Horns sounded, shattering the tension between the two. The stallion grumbled as he turned away, straightening his shoulders and setting his head forward again. The crowd's dull murmuring roar came to a crescendo of cheering and shrieks. A black streak shot above them, piercing through the sound with a high pitched droning of wings batting. Rainbow's heart jumped into her throat as Warlord Black Blur landed before them, flaring his wings. Both were a shimmering white gray, matching his albino mane and tail, both of which dragged for feet behind him before curling into a neat pile raised by his attendants. Only he knew the secret of the darkness that followed him.

Some claimed it was his shadow, rumored that it was controlled by the Warlord and used to battle. Others insisted it was the souls of those he had defeated; even in death their lives were his eternally. The crowd cheered on, hooves were stamping and, for those who had room, wings pumping to create a forceful draft, sending a wave down the Warlord's mane. The sight elicited even more calls and cries. This went on until the albino pegasus spoke.

"Brothers, sisters, we have gathered here to see off our ambassadors. As all of you know, they will be moving to meet with the....others." It was rare that the booming voice of Black Blur was heard, and rarer still that he would address the other tribes by name. "The earth ponies still refuse to supply us with our necessary rations, and the unicorns fear to fight against us any longer." Another cheer rose from the crowd as the ambassadors joined the Warlord on the stage, the three red ponies that had been handpicked by the Warlord himself. "Before they leave, I wish to announce a moment of silence, to honor our fallen comrades, and to usher in the new world; a world ruled by the true masters: the masters of the sky!" One final cheer rose from the mob, then all fell silent suddenly. Everypony's heads were hung as the pensive silence washed over them all.

Rainbow found the silence eerie, standing within so many ponies and not a single noise. She heard something, however. Something that Rainbow couldn't quite make out. It sounded like rattling, coming from her left, as if somepony were clanging pots and pans against each other. She turned her head, looking for the source of the sound. As she gazed, she became aware of eyes boring into the back of her head. The sudden clamp around her neck proved her paranoia true. Ripped from the crowd, Rainbow tumbled to the ground beside her line. An elder pony, Captain Feather Foot, pounced atop her, pinning her legs under his strong, midnight blue hooves.

"Whelp!" The elder soldier's voice tore through the silence like a sword through butter. Heads snapped around, eyes wide at the spectacle before them. "Now, what makes you oh-so special that the Warlord's words hold no command over you?" Spittle flew from the old stallion's chops in a full arch. "I know myself and my fellow officers have told you, times beyond count, about stepping out of line. Did you think we were joking?" Though his mouth was twisted down into a grimace of anger, the scars on his mouth constantly portrayed a grim smile."Or perhaps you thought we were speaking in them metaphors?"

"N-no sir." She whimpered, her legs were sore with the weight of the great pony pressing down on them. He had not been called Feather Foot for being silent or graceful; it had been a mocking name by his sergeant as, no matter how low the rations were, he managed to keep a heavy frame.

"Then why is it that whenever we leave you alone you seem to find yourself out of line and disobeying our orders?" He snapped, still shouting. Rainbow gulped, frantically trying to think of a way to abide the wrath of the captain.

"But, sir, I-" She began to explain.

He hushed her, speaking over the quickly mumbled explanations. "Your grinning is today isn't it?" Rainbow nodded, sweat was running down her face now, fearful of where the elder was going. "It would be a shame if you were to miss your chance this year." He told her, digging his hooves in harder, Dash could feel blood welting on her right leg. "Well luckily..." he lifted his blood flecked hoof, dulling the glint of iron that had been hammered onto the wide pony's hoof. The shoed foot set down on her wing, putting enough pressure for her to feel it, not enough to do any real damage but enough to send fear coursing furiously through her veins. "...You haven't got any reason to miss it yet. Yet."

"No... Please." She whispered a hoarse, rasping plea, "Anything... just not... that." Dash felt a few tears prick at the sides of her eyes. "Please, I'm-I'm begging you. Please, sir." The two held eye contact for a moment longer before the hoof rose from her wing, his eyes never leaving hers, the glowing coals forced her to look away, ashamed and abashed. "Thank you, sir." She muttered, noticing that it was not only the more immediate ponies around her that were watching, the speech had ended a short while ago and now everypony in the audience was watching with extreme interest.

"Back in line." Feather Foot growled each word as if it were its own sentence. "I expect you on time and recovered for your grinning, tonight." With that, the old Pegasus leapt from the ground and flew away, leaving a trail of feathers behind him.

Rainbow stood, her face once again blushed with embarrassment. "What're you all lookin' at?" She yelled at the crowd. Glancing at the stage she sighed; the Warlord was gone, she had missed the entire speech. "Well? Back off!" She told the remaining ponies. They all finally left, most with a mocking, pitying smile to give to her.

Once the great mass of the ponies had left, Rainbow left to find the source of the noise. She lifted off the ground, working out the kinks in her wings as she flapped. She could still hear the sound of faint clanging, it was moving away from her now and very quickly to boot. Rainbow knew she was faster. Hunkering down, she flapped her wings harder and harder, until the muscles burned pleasantly with strain. She quickly caught up with the clattering noise and landed behind the pony that was producing the racket. It was Fluttershy, the yellow colored pony who was armored like a tank. Darkened metal that had been hammered to fit her shape to leave no part of her body exposed, but allowed versatile movement of her wings and legs, clung to her form. She was shaking in the armor, whether from strain, fear, or simply her paranoia, Dash was unsure.

“Hey Fluttershy,” She prodded the jumpy pony with her front left hoof, “you might-" the armored Pegasus leapt almost a foot in the air, despite the heavy armor she wore and spun to face Rainbow, bucking with her front hooves and shouting warnings at her “assailant.” Her eyes were closed the entire time as Rainbow dodged her flying feet.

“Go away!” Even when she yelled her voice was quiet and meek. “I’m giving you a chance to run before I…I...I’ll hurt you!” Her threats resounded in her helmet. Even with the echoes, the threats sounded empty and weak. She finally cracked open her eye and saw Rainbow ducking and weaving away from her kicks. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry, Dash.” She said, dropping back onto all fours. She bore her normal bashful expression, Rainbow could tell by her mouth since her helm only revealed that part of her face to showcase her grin.

“It’s ok; I just wanted to tell you your armor might need refitting.” Dash was used to her friend’s panic attacks. “I shouldn’t be sneaking up on you like that in the first place.” Rainbow's voice shook, this was hardly the first time she had startled Fluttershy, but since her grinning the timid Pegasus had almost killed her a dozen times over.

“It’s fine, really, you don’t need to worry about me. I doubt I could hurt anyone if I tried.” She whispered. Fluttershy never made eye contact with the other ponies, but Rainbow Dash had grown accustom to it.

The two started to walk together, away from the pavilion and off into the main part of Cloudsdale. The buildings here, like the pavilion were solid formations of cloud, something that only a master Pegasus craftsmen could design. Civilian ponies were hard to find in the giant sprawling sky city as most fillies and colts were trained from the age of five to fifteen and then tested to see if they were fit to serve the army. The only exceptions were the crippled, the dumb, the senile and anyone who had a gift for building as their talents were best spent constructing new homes and barracks.

“Your grinning is this evening.” Fluttershy stated, didn’t ask, as it was a known fact. This was the day of the monthly grinning for all those who had achieved age. “Are you ready for it?”

“How could I be ready when I have no idea what they will do to me?” Dash asked her friend, looking at Fluttershy’s own grin. It was smaller than most, only cutting about half an inch upward into her face. “Why can’t you tell me what they intend to do to me? I’m your friend, aren't I?"

Fluttershy looked up, finally making eye contact with her. “Every pony experiences it differently, but they all have to go in unprepared for the job ahead." Her gentle voice had been replaced by almost a hiss. "The only thing I can tell you is that it will be the single most difficult thing of your life… trust me.” The yellow pony’s voice trailed off the last few words and she fell quiet. Dash realized that her friend was sobbing behind the mask. Tears ran down her scarred face and into her armor.

“Will it hurt?” Rainbow had to ask.

“More than you can imagine.” Fluttershy whimpered, fresh tears sliding down her face. “More than any of your month can imagine.” Rainbow looked at the blurry cloud hidden dot that was the sun. It had started its descent to nightfall. In a few hours Rainbow Dash would be grinning with her friend.

Night came at last; the day had dragged on longer than it should have. At least in Rainbow’s mind, it had. Her month had gathered outside their barracks where they had been told to gather their things, then commanded to move out, following their Sergeant. Dash picked up the burlap sack filled with all the valuable possessions she could scavenge. She doubted that she would ever see her old barracks home again after this night.

They trekked on for more than an hour, the moon floating higher and higher into the sky, its already dim light masked by the ever present cloud cover. It was a quarter waning tonight, and the body was so close that Rainbow was sure that if she reached out she could grab it in her hooves. Stars twinkled, forming constellations that she couldn’t dream of remembering. Still, they went on. Some mares and stallions started to lag behind and a few collapsed all together. Dash understood, though, this was the first part of the test: endurance in both walking and flying as they alternated between the two.

After almost six hours of galloping, trotting, flying and a few swift canters, Dash had managed to convince herself that the follow the leader was the entire initiation. “They’ll just cut our grins in and we’ll all be done, simple as that!” She thought, even though in her mind she knew far better.

They finally stopped on a small bank of thick cumulus clouds, each recruit breathing heavily. Six captains awaited the congregation there. Dash only recognized her own, Feather Foot. It was a few moments before they addressed the crowd.

“Fillies and colts, today you all awoke as whelps, but tonight you leave as gallant soldiers in the Warlords great army,” A jet black mare spoke to them in a rumbling voice “For all those who wish to surrender now,” a few ears perked up and others rose from the wet faux ground that they stood on, as they imagined the end of the sentence that never came, “tough luck. You've made it this far, and owe a debt to your tribe to fight and keep the Warlord’s peace. Tonight you will be earning your grins, and it's never an easy task. I can barely recall my own grinning.

"It is as clear as night sky above us; that is not of consequence, as tonight is all about you. Should you prove yourself worthy of carrying the weight of your tribe, then you will always find welcome, a place for your wings to rest and a fire to warm your chilled bones, here with us. Should you fail here tonight…” The captain would not finish, and Feather foot continued as if the result wasn't obvious.

“You will die.” He told them all bluntly. Rainbow gulped, trying to lower the frog that was climbing up her throat. “Your strength will be pushed to the limit and, depending on that limit, some of you will die; of that I have no doubt. The Warlord demands perfection of, not only you, but of all of us. If any of you try to run, you will be killed. If any of you tell anypony else of what we will do here, both you and them will be killed.” Feather Foot whistled and at his command a bank of clouds split, allowing an entire regiment of Pegasi to fly through, each balancing a gigantic rock dangerously on their backs, but each of the carriers held the stones as if they weighed no more than pebbles. "You will cast aside the bags you have brought with you as a symbol. Your old lives are gone, dead, never to return. Your new lives begin if you survive this night."

It took Rainbow a moment to notice that the horses before them were bridled. Coarse rope was clenched in between their jaws. The rope ran backward, over their bodies and was tied to the rocks. “Oh no," she jumped to her feet; puffs of cloud were sent flying and quickly dispersed when the wind grabbed hold of them. “This is stupid, how did this ever seem like a good idea?” The flying soldiers touched down behind her and the rest of her month.

“This 'stupid' ritual has been passed down through our ranks since the great War-lady, Blood Mane. She left a few nights after her election, hours before her inauguration. She came back bearing her own grin, working almost up to her ears. She told nopony of her mutilation, save for her closest generals. She explained to them what our motto became. She said, 'The people have chosen me; I have been elevated and chosen from the entire herd to lead our people. I will have to make choices, choices that will break me and choices that will bring about my own immortality in their minds. My father used to remind me, when I was a young filly, that when a filly becomes a mare, expectations come with her maturity. My life is not in my control; it is in the control of the gods and the citizens who chose me. The only thing I can do is grin and bear it." The captains surrounded Rainbow and the others, clustering them into one big clump. "That is why we grin. That is how the tradition began. If you are so fearful, I will have no qualms about ending your life this very instant." Nopony spoke, letting the threat hang. The night was quiet, save for the heavy breathing of the last stragglers of the journey landed and stared, confused, at the grouping before them.

"Is everything ok?" Rainbow recognized the voice as the stallion that had kicked her. "If these foals have done anything...I still get my grin don't I?" He sounded agitated and his voice was edged with impatience.

"Whelp Crusty," The jet black mare spoke again, addressing her charge with a brutish voice. "You will earn your grin if you are strong enough."

The stragglers finally noticed the rocks and the bridles, and Crusty took this in stride "So, this is our task? Easy enough, when do we start? Once Blankie stops whining?"

Rainbow bristled "I'm not whining. I'm protesting this horrible, barbaric, stupid rite! And the name is Rainbow Dash, not 'Blankie' and both are a hell of a lot better than Crusty." She growled.

Crusty laughed, "I'm sure, or is it, simply, you're afraid?"

Rainbow glowered at the stallion. "I'm not scared. Not for myself." A breeze rolled through the clouds, the chill cutting the ponies to the bone.

From behind her, Rainbow heard a shout "Don't speak for us, we've all been waiting for this so don't ruin our glory with your fear." The wind started to whistle, setting Rainbow's hair on edge. She held her tongue for once, keeping silent.

The whelps formed a line, each one shivering and blaming the now howling wind. The perpetual snow fell faster and thicker, great clumps formed thick on each of the whelps. They all hovered a few feet to the left of a black cloud. Feather Foot leaned over the edge of it, calling down to the initiates. "The rocks will be dropped on my count. At three, be prepared to lift with all your might. If you are able to reach the height of this cloud you will be a serving member of His great army." He didn't need to explain what would happen if they couldn't.

Rainbow tried to lick her lips, but the rugged rope took up all the room in her mouth. She could scarcely breathe. Dash couldn't help but look back at the mare who held her stone, a black-gray monolith that must have weighed thrice as much as she did. The mare holding the rock smiled sincerely, looking supportive in spite of the horrible looking grin that Rainbow now saw as a marring feature rather than a sign of strength. The captains had ruined that for her.

"On three," She could faintly hear Feather Foot with the blood rushing in her ears. "One...”

Thunder rang, but the sound was short lived as Rainbow felt herself falling at incomparable speeds towards the ground. The panic gripped her in its ice cold talons. She twisted her head in each direction, learning that she wasn't the only one who had been left to plummet. Everypony in attendance had fallen, save for the captains and the rock bearers.

"My wings..." Her wings folded out of her body, slowing the descent and giving her back control. She managed to stop about twenty meters from the ground, flaring wings hard. The rope bit into her cheeks, the stone pulling her head back, but she fought to keep her neck straight. A loud whistle shot passed her right ear, along with a muffled shriek. From the corner of her eye, Dash saw a cream shape fall and hit the ground, accompanied by a sickening wet crunch. Crusty wouldn't be earning his grin.

Rainbow snapped back to her current predicament as the rope ripped into her cheeks. Now that falling had been postponed, the issue remained of how she was to lift the monolith to the finish point. She wasn’t given much time to think as another pony dropped past and painted the ground. All of the death around her made the blood running down her cheeks and dripping off her flank all the more prevalent. Dash fired up her wings, flapping hard and powerfully, dragging the rock up half a foot. Already her wings were burning, salty water pooled in her eyes and on her puffed out face, and those that fell made the rope wet, a small reprieve, unnoticeable in the pain Dash felt. “Come on, come on!” She screamed inwardly, motivating herself to pump her wings harder, faster. It wasn’t until she had risen twenty feet that she realized how much of a mistake it was to push herself so hard. The rope had more ability to cut her while she wore herself out much too quickly to make the remaining thirty feet. Her eyelids drooped; exhaustion was trying to claim a victory over the pony. Still, she fought; keeping her wings batting at incredible speeds, she rose five more feet, and the rope moved another half inch into her face.

“It’s not enough,” The pitying thought finally claimed her resolve “I can’t do it…” In defeat, Rainbow closed her eyes, preparing for the fall, ready to welcome the ground that awaited. Her wings, however, refused to adhere. Faster and faster they flapped, beating the air down and the resigned pony higher. As Rainbows eyes closed for what she feared was the last time, she felt a tingling sensation run up her spine and into her wings, and would swear to her grave, as close as it was, that she heard an explosion.

Hours later, Rainbow awoke, sore and cramped, resting on an air light bed of clouds in the infirmary. Raising her neck, Dash searched for anypony else who might be with her, but a sudden spasm set her back on the pillow. “Easy there Blankie,” Feather Foot’s calm voice came from her left “you won’t be moving for, at the very least two months.” She felt the captain pat her gently on the shoulder. “You’re one of us now Blankie, you’re in on the big joke that all us soldiers share.” Feather appeared before her, a mirror clutched in his hooves. Dash gasped at the sight of her face; a wide scar was set on either side of her mouth, racing up to her ears before stopping abruptly parallel to her eyes. “The spitting image of Warlady Blood herself Blankie. Listen to me, still calling you by your whelping nickname.” He stood, patting her flank reassuringly. “There is a pony that has been waiting for our leave to see you, I’ll fetch her. You just relax Rainbow Dash; you’ve got a colored career ahead of you.” The captain chuckled at his joke and took his hoof away from the mark on her flank. A grey cloud nestled atop the blunt edge of a red, blue, and yellow lightning bolt. She fell asleep there, the last thing she heard was Fluttershy's attempt at concerned shouting before the world around her blacked out and she drifted off underneath a great banner that conveyed the motto of her new owners. "We must grin. Grin and bear your weight."

And still the snow fell, and still the sky held. And still the ponies wept.

Chapter 2: Welcome to The Family

Chapter 2
Welcome to The Family

Snow had always surrounded the small, unnamed town, though only a few inches fell upon it during the year. No explanation could be offered as to why it was that this phenomenon was localized to this frontier town of dirt, magic and feathers. Still, even in the comparably temperate climate of the city, this day felt colder than most and must have been contributing to the frustration that Applejack felt as she argued.

"I'm tellin' y'all," Applejack stood vehemently on this issue "t'aint no pony here ain't part of the Apple family." She stomped her hoof, sending a mixture of dirt and snow billowing away before settling back within the small crater her powerful strike had created.

The honor guard gave no sign of emotion. "Was that supposed to frighten us, little girl?" One of the silver armored unicorns asked, grinning smugly at his counterpart.

"Nope." A deep voice muttered from behind him.

"That is." Applejack told them, mirroring the grin that the guard had just lost. The white unicorns became a few shades paler as they turned, seeing, at last, the giant red stallion. "Big Mac, would you terribly mind seein' these here uni-folk off our farm?" AJ asked smugly.

"Nope." He echoed, pointing a hoof to the boundaries of the orchard. The beast wore a scowl that was almost as deep as his resounding voice.

"Sometime soon you will regret this," the same unicorn threatened. “The Apple family will suffer for your transgressions!” He bellowed each word, forcing the angry tone to his voice, but the sweat that beaded down his cheek spoke volumes more than he could ever reach. “We shall return, with more stallions than you filthy hicks can count on your extra hooves-“ He swallowed the last words as Big Macs hind legs crushed his face, sending the unicorn soaring, easily clearing the property and kept going, crashing in a heap, just within eyesight of the farm.

“Now, when ya’ catch up with your pal there, you tell ‘em we don’t take nicely to threats, ya’ hear?” She growled through a clenched jaw. “An’ you tell ‘em that when he's in a place that ain’t his home, he ought to learn some manners.” The remaining unicorn nodded her head quickly, setting her helmet rattling and her blue mane jumping. With the speed at which the mare ran, somepony watching from the distance would promise that her feet never touched the ground, with her panicked gait.

The orange pony sighed, shaking her hung head slowly. "Thanks there Macintosh, I can't hardly think of what I'da done without ya" She smiled up at her older brother, but the red, truck sized stallion's face stayed constant. "Nothin? Still?" AJ sighed. "Well, won't keep you any longer then. You get back to your buckin', I'm gonna check on the stock." Big Mac nodded and left back to the orchard. AJ turned away from her brother, heading in the opposite direction.

The old Apple barn was shambled and beyond repair in many places. The homestead was once a striking red, but the peeling paint was closer to dirt brown and, in some places, a dull gray. From the outside, it looked more like a frame than a completed structure. Faint moos and even a cluck or two could be heard throughout the day, as the animals lamented their terrible conditions and called for release. AJ could resist the begging on most days, but today her morale was truly tested as she walked by. Though no tears came to her eyes, Applejack could feel a small piece of her dying. "Let it rest with Granny Smith." The fresh memory stung her more, but she still shouldered on. "Let Big Mac handle the grief, an' Applebloom can cry out all mah tears for me." She told herself, pushing on. "Someon's gotta stay strong fer this family an' it might as well be me."

Applejack passed the simple gravestone they had erected beside the barn. The rock was laced with cracks and crevices that ran like veins up and down, criss-crossing about the gray slab. Two letters were freshly etched on the tombstone, almost overshadowed by the two spades left jammed into the earth. "G.S," it read solemnly. Applejack picked up the pace, escaping the bad memories, cantering quickly by and reaching the storm cellar quickly.

She picked up the key that the family kept by the doors in her mouth and fitted it into the lock, waiting until it clicked twice, and then slid back the double deadbolts to swing open the doors, revealing the true stock of the Apple family.

Unicorns, earth ponies and pegasi alike argued loudly below the barn. Luckily, the sound was drowned out by the dirt and foundation that separated the horses from the outside world. Anything that managed to drag itself out of the grave of living ponies was stifled by the crack of Big Mac's apple bucking in the orchard. It seemed that not a day could go by where there wasn't an argument involving the war; which side was winning, which side was right, or who was truly the lowest bred tribe. AJ had stumbled in on the latter. This was the worst of the three in AJ's opinion, as it would turn, not only tribe onto tribe, but it would cause infighting between the varying minds of the same breed of pony.

The sounds rushed out as she swung the doors open, slamming into her with an almost physical force. Applejack couldn’t help but wince and shy away, but quickly regained her composure. Vivid with recent events, she referenced the lesson that needed to be learned. "Now quiet down y'all. We gotta have a talk 'bout manners." She shouted, silencing each mare and stallion. "Now then, we need ta get somethin' clear. Y'all are guests here. We keep ya as long as you be in need, that don't mean we gotta like you or talk to ya but there are rules you gotta follow if yer gonna live here. Now, what was the first rule we gave ya?"

"Keep our traps shut!" A familiar voice shouted from her far left. "Keep them shut and, if we can't, keep them quiet!" The quick male voice elaborated.

AJ felt the smile play at her lips, twisting the right side slightly upward. "Exactly, now if y'all wanna keep on shoutin', y'all can get away from our property and back to yer homesteads. I'm sure they'd love to hear what you been doin' these past few months, hidden away in some yokel hole." Her gaze was steel again as she examined the rest of the gathering. "Do we have an understanding?" They all nodded, fidgeting in place as her eyes scrutinized them all. "Good. Now, y'all can head around town. Just be back by ten. Doors'll be locked on the last stroke."

Most of the ponies filed out, heads bowed, a few muttering curses. After the procession was gone, almost all who were left had either been hurt too badly for movement, or too scared to try. AJ dropped her shoulders, reveling in the finally quiet storm cellar. "It's actually pretty nice when it's quiet, isn't it?" The familiar voice said at her side.

"It's a dirt room, not a palace." She retorted, "It ain't no Cantorlot gala, or a Cloudsdale Colosseum, Gallion." The sea-foam green pegasus stepped up to her left side so that they stood parallel. "You'd know that better than I would" She explained. Gallion's dingy silver mane fanned out in an unruly fashion, so wildly that AJ could feel it brush against her though they stood almost a foot apart.

"Would I now? I cannot lie; Canterlot is lovely this time of year. It's about time you learned of my secret summer gardener's job. I tend to the piles of snow, and shape them. I paint over my cutie mark in snow castles, fearing what they all might think of my unholy gift of art." Gallion told her, his voice washed with shame.

"You know what I meant." AJ rose an eyebrow at the stallion "You sure it ain't in acting, cause I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd have you put away." She still doubted that he was almost two years her elder since his behaviors were more like a colt's.

"Huh, maybe when I go back to Cloudsdale I'll take up all those ponies on the offers. Think about it: Me in the world renowned pegasi theater!" He leapt to his feet, puffing out his broad chest and starting into a monologue.

"There we were, stranded by the bank, unicorns to the left, earth ponies to the right, and an Ursa major straight down the center." He bolted around the room, ducking behind the piles of dirt that served many of the residents as beds. "There was a clash of swords on metal as the unicorns used their horrible magic against us. We were down to our last arrow. How would we use it? We didn't know. How could we use it? Lost on me too." He poked his head over one of the dirt piles, a small dab of mud on his nose.

"What's goin' on?" Applebloom entered the storm cellar, drawn by the commotion. "What's the crazy one doin'?"

"Get down soldier!" Gallion barked, jumping into the air. He unfurled his wings and glided to the filly, knocking her to the ground, but cushioning the fall with his own body. "Are you still in one piece, Corporal Applebloom?"

The filly giggled at the Pegasus's serious voice and face. "Sir, yes Sir, Sergeant Gallion!" She told him, saluting.

"Let's keep you that way; you're a war hero, they'll be singing your praises back home!" Gallion paused, turning his head up, listening for something. "Hear that?" He asked deathly quiet now.

"What?" The little filly asked in a whisper, crouched low beside him, her head tilted up in the opposite direction.

"It's quiet...too quiet." He characterized worry well, a sickly gray mask of his once expressive face. "What's that?" He snapped his head as AJ moved forward behind them. He and Applebloom turned their heads slowly, looking back at Applebloom’s older sister.

"It's the Apple slasher!" Gallion gave a muffled shout, turning to his Corporal. "Can you handle this? I am far too scared for battle against such a threatening monster, but I'll do my best if you lead me on!" Gallion begged his diminutive friend, clasping his hooves together.

The little pony was giggling profusely now, verging on hiccups. "Of course, Sergeant! Charge!"Gallion lifted her up and tossed her gently into Applejack.

The orange pony collapsed, grasping at her sister as they fell, one atop of the other. Applejack felt Gallion's weight slam into her side. The three of them were sent spinning across the wet mud floor and landed in a heap on the far side of the cellar.

Both Gallion and Applejack were woven into a tangled mess of limbs and appendages while Applebloom lay beside them, rolling and laughing in the mud. "Alright, alright you two." Applejack forced herself to be stern, but couldn't stop a smile from coming to her face. "Yer disturbing the recovering ponies!" She told them, trying to put a stop to the loud laughter, but failing miserably.

"They love it, you know it." Gallion told her, untangling himself from Applejack, only to have his ribs crunched by her sister's hug. "You all don't mind, do ya?" He asked in a chocked voice. "Please say so, if the lil' one doesn't kill me, the bigger one will." He gasped. "I'm serious. My lungs..." The other ponies in the basement couldn't help but smile along with the pegasus. "See? They love us!" Gallion pulled the little filly off of his chest and lifted her up to his face "See that kid? We're a hit!"

He tucked her under his forearm, and used the other to sweep across the room. "I can see it now, performing in Manehatten! Our names up in lights at the playhouse! Here, for a limited time, Gallion and the great Apple family actors!" The filly laughed on, lightening the spirits of the other ponies around them. The laugh soon changed into a hacking cough, sending spit and mucus flying out of her mouth. The mucus was sparsely flecked a dark red and a small dribble of the color had appeared on Applebloom’s chin.

"Alright, alright, passed time you go back to bed Applebloom." Gallion placed the child on the ground at her sister's behest once her coughing fit passed.

"But, Applejack" She whined, clasping her hooves together in a begging fashion.

"No buts, your brother and I aren't gonna let you catch your-" AJ almost said 'death', and then remembered the events of the day behind them. "Just get back inside, ya’ little mongrel, alright?" Applebloom mumbled away to her room, dragging her hind feet in sadness and anger.

"Don't worry lil' one," Gallion called out to her, "Once the stick in the mud has fallen asleep, we'll steal off into the night; Manehatten waits!" He promised after her.

Gallion turned to AJ once the little pony vanished from sight, an exasperated expression on his face. "She's going to be fine." He told the worried pony. As if on cue, another outburst of coughing came from around the corner followed by a pleasant greeting by Big Mac. "She's got her brother. Now when was the last time you left the farm?" He asked, blocking AJ's attempts to exit the hovel. "Don't tell me it was when we last went for supplies." He got his answer from her face. "It was over a month ago when it was your turn!" He looped his leg through hers and led her away from the storm cellar and the farm.

"Now you let go of me, ya hear?" She swung at the broad pony, hitting his front leg a few times, but not protesting too much beyond the occasional curse and swat.

"You're going into town, taking a break." He told her adamantly, still dragging his unresisting hostage into the farming village.

The town had been formed by of about half a dozen different farming families. They refused to take a stand in the war and opened their borders to all those who chose the same, and all tribes were welcome. Since then, the as-of-yet unnamed town had grown bigger and bigger as more ponies stole away from their birth cities and away from the forced conscription, which was the one thing that the tribes had in common. The square was uneven, more a hexagon than a square really as it grew and grew with more citizens joining each day. The paths were trampled dirt and most of the houses had been built in a rush, leaving most as just random assortments of wooden planks and tin sheets. The true beauty of the town square was in the residents; all of the ponies lived peacefully, and though they weren't without their petty arguments, the town remained largely at ease amidst the surrounding chaos.

Gallion managed to tow AJ to the town's gathering spot, the largest building in the square where the cider always flowed, the chatter was lively and the food so fresh that, at least from Gallion's claim, you could taste the soil. He rambled on about the spot, preaching as if it had brought an end to the war, a cure to all diseases and enough money for the Apple family to live the rest of their lives labor free. "Just try and enjoy yourself, promise me that at the very least AJ." He finally addressed her after almost twenty minutes of rambling monologue.

"I'm not gonna make any promises," She warned, finally un-entwining their legs and kicking the Pegasus in the shin "but I'll do mah best."

The two entered and Gallion was immediately sucked up by the mob, pulled away by some of his fellow Pegasi to be congratulated about some great conquest or another that he had been around for. Applejack took one look around the buzzing hive and felt fully out of place. "Fish outta water would stand a better chance." She thought, but that was a difficulty in itself with all the noise that the excited ponies made as another round of cider was served. AJ managed to make her way back over to her loud friend and stood by him, prepared to let the hours tick by uneventfully.

"Hey, Applejack," Gallion turned to face his out-of-place friend "wanna tell them about that time you, me and Applebloom got Macintosh to buck that one guard so hard we saw his head spin?" A round of laughter followed as the group imagined the event.

"Ah... sure, I suppose." Applejack felt her face warm as she blushed, but it went unnoticed on her orange face. The next few hours passed quickly (and eventfully) as she regaled the crowds with the tales of her farm life. From infancy to just a few hours prior, she told them her story, painting a vivid picture and soon overshadowing even the most gifted storytellers and their words of fancy, their tall tales. She brought cheers of victory at the deeds that the apple family had preformed, laughter and tears at her younger sister's life and, at one point during the night, managed to bring an uproar of hissing down upon Gallion. She had painted him as a demi-villain, divulging the pegasus' reaction upon his awakening.

Another roar of laughter almost made the building itself rattle. By now, everypony had surrounded her and begged her for more, none wanting the cheer to end. "I'm sorry," She told them, shrugging bashfully, "You're gonna have to ask the green 'un for more." The groan was almost deafening when she said it.

"Hey," Gallion took his feet," I'm the one who brought her here, you should all be praising my name!" He berated them in good nature. They all still booed and cursed him, a few mugs were tossed his way, but they were easily dodged.

"How'd you fall in with hound like Gall'n?" She heard a voice call from behind the crowd, which incited a chorus of pleading for the story. "Come on, he's known all round the sky," She could finally see who was asking. One of the pegasi that Gallion had been conversing with, a stained purple mare, over coated with a flush of nerves as each and everypony turned their attention to her. "Well, he is. We just know him by his nickname...Silver Tongue..." Her words fell off as she spoke. The name created a crash of laughter as it sunk in, setting Gallion's face as flush as the mare.

"Thank you for that, Young Rand." He flung back, a friendly glare on his face. "Or should I say Cloud soaker?" He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Go on AJ, tell them or I will." The promise came with a round of cheers as eyes fixed back on Applejack.

"Fine," she begrudgingly resigned, bowing her head in submission."It was, what? Bout a year ago?" She checked with the Stallion, who nodded. "So; bout a year passed, Big Mac was tillin' 'an harvestin in the orchard. All the sudden, he heard a whistl'n noise an' the sound of a crash followed it. So Macintosh wander'd towards the noise an' found this," She waved a hoof dismissively in his direction. "Stuck up in a tree, bones stickin' outa wings." The building itself almost grimaced with the thought. "We took him in, trussed him up and kept him in the guest room." Gallion screamed with laughter at the euphemism. He managed to stifle it down to a snicker to let her continue.

"Now, he was the picture of a good guest: easy ta feed, quiet, never complained when we never entertained. Then he just had ta wake up and ruin it." She laughed with the recollection. "Hooo-boy, he was spttin' mad. Flingin' curses at us, I'm surprised Granny-" She stopped to clear her throat. "Granny didn't just tear out his foul tongue then and there." She gave a few examples of his protest to immerse the masses even more. "For the next coupl'a months he whined, moaned an' belly ached up a score."

"Wasn't that bad.." He grumbled, his sudden bitterness sending more laughter to the roof.

"Sure, whatever you say. So, layin' in bed for almost ten weeks, he started beggin' us for somethin' ta do! Beggin'! So we send in Granny, and she goes and wraps a ball a yarn 'round his hooves and tells him to keep still. Starts knittin' and gabbin' at him." She slammed the table, still laughing fitfully. "So he spends the next month as her spool, not surprised how he turned out by the end of it. The plan was to keep 'im till he healed, but he just stuck around after the fourth month, claiming a splinter. Couldn't rightly say why." She glanced over, a curious look on her face.

"Leaving would have just shattered your fragile little heart." He said sincerely, bringing a bawdy hail of whistles and calls. “I know that you guys couldn’t go on without me.” Gallion stated smugly.

“You go on talkin’, how bout I tell ‘em the first day you got your wings back?” Applejack casually let slip. Demands were bellowed and options thrown. Once they had settled down, Gallion had been accused of overthrowing three different monarchies, killing about thirty or so officials while catching the eye of every noble mare they could name, plus a few who had been forgotten.

“He comes boudin’ out of the room, waving his wings around like mad, an’ shouting ‘I’m free! Free!’ loud as could be. Took off in a puff’a dirt, coverin’ me ‘n Applebloom in the stuff. He tore off into the sky, quick as a whip. Least, ‘fore he turned back when Applebloom’s cough started. Look scared as a mouse in the larder, quick as he moved. Scooped ‘er up an’ brought ‘er straight to Granny. Never seen wings so fast.” The laughter had died down now; everypony was intent on the story. A small drip was heard as a mug tipped over slightly. “Should have seen the worry on ‘im, looked close to tears.”

Applejack was staring at the stallion solemnly. Gallion had cast his face down, obviously compromised. “Granny just gave her a tap on the back an’ she was fine. That was the last time you took to the sky, wasn’t it?” She asked, breaking off the story and approaching her friend. Every eye in the place was fixed on the new story, live actors playing out their drama. “Wasn’t it? That why you stayed? Applejack pressed on, getting closer, her eyes were still fixed on him. “Applebloom was why you stayed?”

Gallion's skin was crawling; he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. He nodded his head towards the door; never had he looked more anxious then at that moment. Applejack understood and stepped outside with him, leaving the slowly fading party. He led her away from the building, trying his best to find some privacy. Once he was assured that there would be nopony else listening he answered her. “Yes it was, for both. I couldn’t just leave her, she was hurting, I could never have just left” Gallion’s light hearted chatter was replaced; he now spoke with a determined allegation."I don't want to talk about it anymore, O.K?" He turned a shoulder to her, walking back to the party. "I hate talking about myself." He muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Once the pair returned the found that the gathering hall had emptied quickly after their departure. Not yet tired enough for sleep, Applejack and Gallion trotted around town, and then broke from the borders into the forest that hemmed the northern edge. They galloped through the forest, racing and shouting with the occasional hoof out to trip the other. They covered half the forest in the one night, and looped back around when Gallion started raving. She tried to stand strong, resisting the tantalizing pull of his words.

"You have to see what I found," He told her excitedly, pointing forward towards an outcropping. "You can see on forever from there, Lights, bright as the sun!" She finally resigned, hoping that the detour would get the excited pegasus calmed down. The two breached the trees and she learned what he was talking about. It was a small crag, giving an overlook of, not only the small town, but Canterlot and sky lights that must have been Cloudsdale.

"It's...." No words came to her mind that could describe what she saw. "Thank you, Gallion." AJ faced the pegasus, smiling. "I thought I was buildin' up to burst."

"I wouldn't have thought it possible to make you grin," He told her, his own smile spreading like wildfire across his face. "Until now, I had a bet with one of the unicorns you were made of stone. It looks good on you." He sat himself beside the orange horse, letting his wings fan out and flop back into a relaxed pile. "Suits a lot of people, but I think you wear it best."

The two sat in silence for a while, and Gallion could tell that the earth pony next to him had finally relaxed and, he hoped, had forgotten the events of the day. It wasn't until he felt the tremble next to him that he noticed she was crying.

"She's dead Gallion." AJ sobbed, tears dripped onto her leg as she turned to face him. "Granny's dead. Now I've got to care for them all on my own. The people I take in, all of 'em, and Applebloom... and she's gonna die too!" Tears ran down her face and snot bubbled at her nose. She sobbed like a new born filly longing for the warmth and steady heartbeat of her mother. Applejack had done her best to hold back the tears, never wanting to seem weak in front of her family, but the grip had been loosened by exhaustion, and by Gallion's kind actions that night.

Gallion sat clueless next to her for a moment before fanning out his wings and clasping his left around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. "Quiet down, don't want someone to see the great Applejack, terror of the frontier, sister of the year and second most feared apple bucker in town crying." He tried to comfort her and knew he was failing. "You won't be alone." He assured her. "You have Big Mac, and Applebloom once she's over her little cold." He was floundering. "Look, I'm no good at this comforting, but if I have learned anything about you in the past few months I've been here I know that you are the strongest mare-hell, strongest horse I've ever met and this is good for you. Let it out and you'll spring right back." She looked up, imploring him for anything more comforting that he could say.

"Uhh....you're pretty?" He shrugged pitifully, defaulting on his most basic instinct of jokes. She smiled, though her tears still flowed freely down her cheeks. Gallion finally thought of a way to calm her. "Now, come on, let it go, it's going to be fine. You're not alone; you've got your family, the freaks in your basement, and the freak with his wing around your shoulders. I doubt any of us are going anywhere." He promised, clutching the still crying mare closer. "That is, if you still want me around the farm."

"I don't think it would be the same without havin' you around." Her crying had stopped and the two sat uncomfortably close to one another.

"Come on, you've soaked my feathers, let's head back to the farm." He gingerly lifted her head off his chest, only to be stopped by her hooves wrapped around his body.

"Don't you shrug me off just yet." She told him, clutching him as hard as Applebloom had. "I still have somethin' to say." Her throat felt like cotton as she looked at him. "I-" She gritted her teeth and Gallion could tell she felt uneasy. "I don't want ta hear you call it 'the farm' anymore. It's yer home, don't you forget that." Applejack finally managed to explain.

His grew wide as saucers when she told him that. “What do you mean, ‘my home?” He asked, stunned at the revelation.

“You said yer goin' to stay with us for a while, didn’t ya?” Applejack withdrew from his hold, concerned she had said something wrong to her friend. “I only thought... cause you'll be with us, that it’s as much yer home as it is ours.” She silently chastised herself for making the stallion more uncomfortable and ushered in another bout of silence. "If ya don't think of it that way, then don't," She clumsily backpedaled, hoping to undo whatever damage she had done. "Was jus' an offer."

“It’s not that,” He looked back, his sly smirk rested on his round face. “You just reminded me of what an old Captain of mine once told me. Gave a speech about our duty to the war machine and what that entailed. He told us that a grinning Pegasus can never hold family, home, or property, that we are all tools for the Warlord to use at his discretion. Just feels odd to have a home after being constantly told you couldn't for so long. A good kind of odd, though.” He made sure to stress the last point. “And I can’t think of a better place to call home than the orchard.” Gallion hugged her close, feeling the remains of her tears rub off on his body.

“It’s been a good few months.” He spoke aloud, but the words weren’t directed to anyone in particular. “First I get away with going AWOL, then I wake up with half my bones broken in the storm cellar of some crazy earth pony and her just as insane family. Then, I get to sleep in for a few weeks and make a friend that I’ll never soon forget.” He felt Applejack’s grin against him. “And then I made friends with her crazy sister, who won’t let go of me.” She kicked him for the hundredth time that day and he laughed. “More feeling next time, I don’t see the apple bucking maniac I met a few weeks ago.” She took another swing at him, knocking him a few feet away from her and landing on his side. “There she is!” He groaned, hugging the side she had kicked.

“Come on, let’s head back. Big Mac and Applebloom will be worried if we are out too late. Plus I have to tell Applebloom you’re staying; she’s been begging me for weeks to ask you.” She chuckled, walking away from him. AJ heard a loud swoosh from behind her and he landed a hairsbreadth from her face.

“I hadn’t finished the list yet.” He said quietly. “I found work I love to do, a family I love to be around and a home that I can’t wait to be a part of. That implies that I fell in love with the family, work and home, when really I love all three because one special pony made me love all three.” The hairsbreadth had been breached and he was leaned in closer than measurement could make. “What I want to say is, not only thank you for all of this, not only that without you I would be dead of my injuries, or dead of poor care back in Cloudsdale, or been forced to grin along with my regiment. I’m drawing this out far too long, when it’s the simplest phrase there is." He breathed in, preparing his explanation. "I love you, AJ, all these months have let me see that.” The Pegasus was flushed now, turning his face a strange purple. “I love you.” He repeated, and Applejack knew he wanted her to share the sentiment.

“Gallion...I don't...I can't-" She started, and saw the Pegasus’s face drop. Humiliation corroded his normally happy look. He turned away, trying to hide the wince when she couldn't finish her sentence.

“It’s alright, I understand.” He cut her off; the pain was clear in his voice. “I really shouldn't have said anything; I mean...I'm an idiot. I’m taking advantage of you.” The pain was drowned by the apologetic begging. “I’ll pack up when I get back, don’t worry. You won’t hear from me again if you don’t want to.” He started to flap his wings, only to get a swift buck from behind, the hundredth and first kick of the day.

She glowered down at him, a mixture of puzzlement and rage was upon her face. Gallion tried to scuttle away on his back, but his hooves wouldn't find traction in the thin dirt. She towered over him, a scowl fixed in place of her grin. "You...You little..." She rumbled, narrowing her eyes. Gallion shut his eyes tight and cringed away from the incited mare. It took a moment to register once she pressed herself against him and kissed him tenderly. "When I'm speakin' you listen. I don’t know how to tell you I cared that much. I didn't know how I should a' said it, but I suppose that about sums it up." Gallion cracked his eye open and saw her standing shyly a few inches from his face. Shyness from her was as seldom as a dragon sighting and, as Gallion would joke, twice as frightening.

Away in the distance a faint explosion was heard, and a band of multicolor lit up the night sky. "Well," he stared past Applejack, beaming at the rainbow. "Now I'm waiting for Manocouses to ascend his stone grave, if anything else, it would be the most likely."

Gallion sat on his flank, a dumb smile on his face. “The captains told me, every Pegasus gets his grin or dies trying,” He told her, one side of his cheek lift higher than the other, pulling into the grin he had flashed the first day that he could use his wings again. “Didn’t ever imagine this being what they meant.” He thought for a second then asked, “Would I have died if I had refused?” He asked, his faux serious voice betrayed by his still grinning face.

“Naturally. As you said, a pegasus earns the right or winds up dead for it.” Applejack teased, lifting him off his rear. She rubbed her neck against his. “Life’s too short; don’t think I wouldn’t have made it last any longer.” She sighed into his mane. “Well, now you know yer stuck with us. I doubt Applebloom would ever let ya leave now. Big Mac neither, he’s always been protective.” Applejack felt the neck stiffen as she said that. “Don’t worry; just let me deal with him, though ya may wanna stay away from the house for a while after I tell him.” She couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice as he contracted his muscles, almost cowering at the thought. “Welcome home, Gallion.” She giggled out, pushing the green almost-solider towards his new home.

The two walked off, Gallion’s walk was more of a stuttering trot as he tried to kid and feign his bravery. The explosion and nighttime rainbow had been quickly forgotten, along with many of the events of the day, pushed away to the hidden recesses of their minds. Both of the ponies only wanted to think about was the present and the future; what was happening, and what could and, if they had their way, would happen now, and the air seemed warmer as it flowed between them.

"Big thanks to PseudoBob for editing this for me, Would have been much, much worse had he not."

Chapter 3: The Royal Dinner

Chapter 3: The Royal Dinner

The old playhouse wasn't built for practicality; though the columns that supported the frame, the roof and the stage itself were covered in ornate carvings of unicorn brilliance, there was little cause to be assured of safety while in attendance. The frame sagged on the termite ridden supports, the roof was nailed in at irregular and erratic intervals and the stage was loosely fitted into the wall behind it, subject to shifts during storms or rebuilding.

This never stopped the higher class ponies from attending its monthly performances of legendary unicorn plays. It was claimed that the greatest actors in all of Unicornia and “the land before” were, or had been, in service at this very theatre.

Ponies flowed towards the stage in steady droves, quickly filling the lobby. Most were moguls, made rich off the strife between the Pegasi and the Unicorns. Their own children had been spared the call of duty when the war machine’s gears had been greased with monetary oil. The attendees mingled for a short while, pleasantries exchanged, healths questioned and family portraits marveled over. Gasps of “Look how big they’ve grown!” and “We simply must have you over!” came quick and often as the reluctant ritual dictated. All the promises and excited behaviour would have given the actors a run for their money; that is, if they had any.

The idle chatter went on for another half an hour, but dropped off the moment the true star entered. The dampened moonlight still gave her snow white body a gossamer sheen. The torchlight of the theatre made her styled purple mane and tail sparkle while casting dancing shimmers of the same color across the room. She was the pride of the royal family and the face of the monarchy, in many cases overshadowing her princess cousin.

“Good evening to you all.” Rarity bowed low and graciously, obviously blushing at all of the eyes fixed on her. “I trust you have all been well?” Most responded with hurried nods. The entire room had lost their voice, nervous like a colt his first time in heat.

Rarity breezed past the lobby, making her way easily through the crowd to the royal balcony and took her place. It could be observed that no one ever spoke to her; most were too busy basking in her status or trying to make their way into the family themselves. She suffered more wedding proposals an hour than a normal mare would even think of her betrothed, or any other stallion for that matter.

She sat in the box seat that was set up to the right of the stage. It was as close as anypony could get to, but gave a full view of, not only the stage, but the entire theater. The other play-goers followed close behind, filling almost half of the seats.

Only after the last unicorn was seated did the show begin. The few ushers employed by the theater wandered up and down the aisles, extinguishing torches as they passed them, but leaving a few dimly lit in the sconces.

Rarity adjusted herself in the plush, purple velvet seating. The players took the stage, dressed in rags and tattered robes. From where she sat, Rarity could count the ribs of each of the players and hoped that the grumbling of their bellies wouldn't drown out the words as it had times before. The lead, a chocolate colored mare stepped to the forefront to introduce the show "We will be performing a history, written by Queen Emerald Shone: The Founding of Unicornia." The leading mare bowed and stepped into the crowd of actors behind her.

The epic started as lights rose on the stage, controlled by the ushers again. Rarity had been told this story since she was a child, but, nearly each and every time it was, she lost herself in the characters and the fancy of altered history.

The players gathered at center stage, all but the chocolate mare wore similar hoof spun robes. Six horses surrounded the lead, trapping her in a threatening circle. The first words revealed the roles at last, the mare was playing as the Queen's assistant, the character from which the play had been around. "You whisper lies!" She cried out, a tiredness that was too real to be acted laced the words. "Vile warlocks, when my lady hears your traitorous words she will have your jaws sewn shut by your own dark curses!"

The tallest stallion of the group that surrounded her stepped forward, projecting his voice with magic and adding an evil tone. "We have seen the future of our people, and the fate of our lost Princess Platinum." A cold wind came from a window opened behind stage, making the blood red robes the stallion wore flare up ominously. "She lays dead, frozen in a far off land, chilled through like our own. Yet a future rests in that land. If this opportunity is ignored, "The warlock's magic tore his hood away from his face "then our people will surely be extinct by your folly." The unicorn beneath the hood shared the same color as his robe. His coal black eyes seemingly burrowed into the adviser's very soul, along with those in the audience who met his gaze.

"Was it not you who claimed this land would bring about chaos and discord, were we to migrate?" A new voice called from offstage. It was soon given a body as a striking green unicorn stepped from the curtain. Magic had been used to give her mane and fur a more brilliant gloss, made brighter still by the light that the ushers funnelled down upon her. Magic was also to thank for her girth as she was far fatter than any of the other players. "Or have you given up on that childish notion, Fresh Moon?" The Queen's player asked.

The stallion hissed when she spoke the name, "I am grand master Dark Veins, reborn in the body of the one nearest to my blood." He growled. "My former body may be dead, but a true warlock's soul never expires. I gave counsel to this Princess almost a hundred years past, and she chose instead her own foolish path. Now she lies dead, her grave littered with bodes of the lesser tribes." He glowered at the Queen, managing a look of both imploring pleading and seething anger.

"What has changed in those hundred years Dark Veins? Our people still starve, we are passed the brink of war with the brutish air-born, all that remains is for the first volleys to be fired. What could have possibly changed?" The Queen demanded, staring past her nose, managing to condescend upon the giant stallion.

"Nothing ever will," Dark Veins answered, "if we remain here, bound by our mortal stupidity. Should we leave, my people will steer the kingdom to the new lands. Staying will lead to our demise, but this new land holds a new future, a glorious reign and an end to this war." Rarity sat up straight in her seat, the play came to her favorite part, the prophecy of Dark Veins Reborn. "Two of our own, one gifted by royal birth and the other gifted by magical heritage will bring harmony to your kingdom. I have only foreseen the two, but I sense others. Four more shall join them, and through each of their merits, bring harmony and peace." He pledged.

"If it is to be believed that you are truly the legendary Dark Veins, you will understand our disbelief in your divinations." The Queen smugly stated, trotting around the gathered mob. "As it happens, none of the warnings of your namesakes came true. He told us that a land of fire will come to swallow the land of ice. That was four forms ago, yet still ice resides in this kingdom." Emerald stopped aside the great red stallion, looking into his right eye, searching for doubt. There was a pause as the two eyed each other, anticipating the other's surrender.

"Very well," The Queen finally gave in; the ice in her voice gave new meaning to the word chill. "I give you my blessing. Bring builders and townsfolk; settle this land. The unicorn empire must keep expanding." The Queen flicked her tail as she took her exit. "You will attend this trip as well, Quill Foal." She spoke casually to the Scribe that followed her closer than a shadow.

"My Queen?" The chocolate mare asked, aghast. "My duty rests at your side, attending to you and documenting your rule."

"I have more than one scribe, Quill Foal, though none as accomplished as you. Would you not like to make history? Be the first to make record of this land?" The Queen inquired. "You do, this tantalizes you like a ripe pear to a pauper. You will document this discovery, as well as enforce my law on these ghostly magicians." Quill Foal nodded and the stage went dark.

Ushers hurried about below, retrieving coats for the cold, food for the hungry and, in one odd case, an entirely new guest as a replacement for a mare who had bored the stallion she had come with.

Rarity had her own set of drudges who would jump the moment she cleared her throat, each presenting her with different options of drink. She sent one off to collect her own cloak and, if any remained, a blanket as the window had yet to be closed and the icy air whispered in and around the theatre. She thanked the slave graciously on his return, but refused to allow him to drape the thick woollen fabrics on her. "I am quite capable of doing these things myself. I am royal, not stupid." She snapped at another one of the drudges who begged her for the honour.

Rarity bundled herself in the blanket, hoping that the cover would hide her shakes. Her front hooves had started to violently trembled out of her control. It was more than shivering from the open window; the breeze was uncomfortable, but not enough to create tremors as harsh as hers. The entire city was well aware of the family's passed down disease They named it "The Shudders". It seemed to afflict only the royal family, generations before Rarity had been forced to share in her plight.

After about ten minutes the stage lit back up, the scenery changed to that of a snow covered wasteland spotted with caravans as the unicorns traveled. Quill Foal entered from stage left, the band of warlocks at her side. "We are closing in on the land now, I can feel it." Dark Vein spoke first, his hood drawn back over his face.

Rarity's attention was quickly lost as the chatter went on and the play reached a lull, and the characters took inventory. She couldn't keep her eyes away from the robed stallion, even as she tried to immerse herself into the story, her gaze shifted back to his threatening form. The shine from the light made his coal black eyes sparkle and stand out on his shadowed face.

The play droned on for another few minutes before the second intermission. The only real development in the story was discovery of the ancient Princess's corpse. The flag of her grace was planted and the land named in, what the warlocks claimed, the title she gave the promised land.

The show went on and on for almost two hours, although the play itself was only about one In the unicorn playhouse, intermissions were frequent, an old custom from the land before when, in most cases, a body would be found, freshly dead in it's seat. Now, as the life expectancy of an average pony became far less erratic, it was more of an annoying ritual, but it was tolerated as tradition.

After the final ten minute break was when the true story flourished. The players took back to the stage, changing the scene yet again, and the new backdrop was a half built town of stone and bronze. The warlocks ruled with Dark Veins as the reigning regent lord. He fit the role well, his charisma and force equipped him well for control.

He bellowed down on the serfs, commanding them with unequivocal authority. "Expand the walls, arm the battlements, I fear the griffons will not ease their attack." A clattering boom rang out and the stage shook as the hidden actors beneath quaked for effect. "They will strike again! These beasts are relentless, but we shall succeed; I have foreseen our victory! All of you must listen and obey my every order!" The stallion spoke with a mystical voice that fit the character all too well. The background actors all wore thoughtless looks, controlled by the magic and charisma of their dictator.

Quill Foal stood hidden by the warlock's immense shadow, but the new curvature to her body was unmistakable amid her blood red cloak. "Are you quite sure of this my lord?" She asked, a disquieted expression plaguing her beautiful face. Quill Foal clutched at her rounded abdomen as the stage gave one final heave before settling. "Dark-Dark Veins!" She cried, sweat beaded on her face as she clutched her stomach harder. "The child...it is coming, my love!" She shrieked.

Dark Veins nodded, the grim look of a man proved right. "My predictions finally come true. Be calm, the child will live a long healthy life and be trained by the greatest magicians of our age. Yours, however, shall end. Such a fickle thing life is. Its advent brings about the departure of its own self. “He sighed, never shifting his gaze from the horizon. "You have served your lord well and fear not; your death will not be forgotten." He showed no sign of concern as her breath became ragged and her wails quieting down to a few weak yelps. Silence hung over the theatre for a few moments, disturbed only on occasion by shaking of the stage and finally shattered by the cry of a newborn Filly.

Dark Veins ignored the child as well, leaving it lying amidst the filth until one of his followers arrived to carry the still wailing child away. A stout attendant of his stood a full body's length away, respect eclipsed by fear. “My lord, you have a-“

“A daughter, yes. It is as I foreseen.” He never looked away from the walls that buckled under the collective weight of the griffon’s charge before springing back into place. “Bring her to my second, have her learn the ways of our order... without her, our cause will be lost.”

“My lord.” The attendant bowed away, his head so low it almost touched the ground.

“Enough of this.” Dark Veins grumbled as the sound of cracking wooden supports soaked up the night. Without a word, shadows flew from his body and took to the sky, racing about and diving down beyond the walls where the griffons would have stood. “From today, this land is owned by the great Unicorns, the most powerful species to ever walk the land!”

“Exactly why your breed will fall.” The lights shifted, fixing on a newcomer. An actor who wore fake wings and concealed his horn magically stood on the catwalk above. “What good is the land, when the sky has so much more to offer?” The Pegasus dove towards Dark Veins, but was easily dodged and entrapped by his magic. His captive couldn't do much more than produce a high pitched whining noise.

"There is nothing you could tell me that I do not already know." He growled into his prisoners face, both of their breaths came in clouds now as the air chilled magically. "Your people follow ours, and there shall be death...lives wasted on your prejudice against us. Return to your leader with a message. Whatever happens now is your fault-" The actor choked, the famous final line ended prematurely. Unease was shared by a few of the newer cast members, their pre-show jitters justified in the moment.

Still as death the audience sat, waiting for the recovery or shame that the stallion would deliver. Slowly he turned his head, facing towards the audience, shattering the fourth wall with a resonating voice, steeped in otherworld mysticism. "You all shall face the fate that I have foretold. The time is upon you now, though mine has passed by far too quickly in my lives. Heed this warning; your time for redemption has come. Mine has long since faded...” His eyes glowed an unholy purple, lighting up the stage, coloring the planks before him.

The curtains closed hurriedly, the call had been given and the players rushed about, taking their bows and receiving their applause. The grip on the crowd had been lessened causing the applause to come scattered and quietly.

Rarity clapped loudly, unabashed by the doomsday speech. "Drudge," She turned back to her nearest assistant "collect that stallion," she pointed at Dark Veins portrayer "and the mare." Her hoof shifted to focus on the Queen, who looked slimmer by about a size, shockingly large for a lower class women. "Invite them to join the royal family for supper tonight as honoured guests of Lady Rarity." She thanked the servant as he ran off and stood, immediately flanked by her guards who had stealthily taken up position at the exit of the box. She slipped between them with a sigh and made way to the litter that would carry her home.

It breached on eight when the family had finally assembled for dinner. The royal family was expansive, branching off into dozens of sub-families who would gather at least once a week for the meal. This week, however, many of the family had been too busy or apathetic of a meaningless dinner with the rumors of rebellion to appear. Instead of the customary near thousand diners, there was closer to two hundred, leaving the majority of the two dozen tables empty.

Rarity arrived, led by the red stallion from the play before. He had been awaiting her arrival just outside the great fort, fixated by the shimmering golden doors. "My great grandfather built this keep with his own two hooves," she gushed as she dragged him between the pillars of smoke scented oak and cherrywood that held up an enchanted steel plated roof. The keep was cavernous, letting her drawling voice echo on for miles perhaps, chewing out her words and spitting garbled specters of the originals out. The tour gave them a trip through the castle, only showing a fraction’s fraction of the true palace. “Do you know where that mare with the marvellous green mane is?” Rarity asked, her soliloquy ending at the archway to the dining hall. “I simply must ask her how she is able to kempt in such a fashion.”

“I’m not sure where Netherierna has gone,” Out of character his voice was calm and quiet, making Rarity strain for the words. “She is always very punctual.” He spoke each syllable with care.

“Ahh, I’m sure she is merely running tardy. You know how actors are...” Rarity nudged him forcefully into the dining hall. "Supper is beginning soon, and I'm sure that they are all excited to see you." Rarity flattered him shamelessly as they strode through, but within her mind she prided herself on her cleverness. "One more week without Great Auntie saddling me with more guilt." Rarity had to resist the urge to jump about with excitement at her plan.

The moment that they entered, Rarity was snatched from his arm, dragged to her cousin's table in a flurry of excitement. The king and his immediate family stood as the center of attention, more so tonight than any other. She was greeted by a wall of babbling nonsense as every member of her family spoke together. Only snippets of what was said made it to her. "Allisian she-

"Your lord uncle has reconsidered-"

"-great celebration!"

Rarity managed to bring down the deafening roar of her excited family down to an understandable thrum. "Uncle Yondala has decided that he is passing on the crown early!" Her cousin's voice bordered between shrill and supersonic. "I will be taking the throne at the end of the year!" The rest of the family bubbled with pride and joy for the soon to be Queen.

"So soon?" Rarity asked, disguising the horror in her voice. "You are so young; it would seem almost a crime to set such responsibility on your slender shoulders." She made certain to speak as carefully and respectfully as she could, remembering all too well what had befallen her late grandmother for telling the girl a smarmy joke that was being passed about in the town. "So much blood..." Rarity stiffled a whimper.

Allisian shrugged, though her eyes started to narrow. "Are you, by chance, saying that I am too young to ascend the throne?" She demanded, even when she whispered her voice carried a sharp sting.

"Of course not, never!" Rarity searched for her escape, hoping to avoid death another day. Finally her eyes found her date and found her excuse. "Congratulations are in order, for both your mother and father as well. Alas, look at that!" She gestured sharply towards the wandering stallion. "He is very easily lost from what I have been told. If you will?" She curtsied, feeling the spastic beating of her heart create an overpowering rush of blood in her ears. Her cousin grunted, her good mood slightly spoiled, but was quickly restored by the new cheering of her toddler relatives who had been woken up to the good news.

Rarity took her place by the stallion who had, luckily, found his way to the table that her branch sat. Before sitting, she cast her gaze about, but still finding not a sign of the green horse.

He smiled as she slid onto the bench, a slight tremble in her legs; the fear of the insane monarch had set off her shudders. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He said, noticing at last her sickly looking paler than white face.

"I've seen more than one... this whole city will become a home for phantoms and shadows." she gulped, forcing down the bile that had risen into her throat. "It's quite alright; I've merely been under the weather of late. Now, I know the time has long since passed, but I must ask; how did you improve such a brilliant finish for your show?" She shoved off the topic of her health, hoping to play to the actor's sense of vanity. "And, I am embarrassed to ask, but what did you say your name was?" The presence of her Great Aunt had been revealed with the elderly mare's loud throat clearing just down the table.

"Tuxedo Crescent, and you needn't be embarrassed, I never said." He told her warmly. "As for my line, I've been wondering the same thing." He paused for a moment, considering the best possible way to explain. "I was standing there and then, I wasn't... I mean, I was still standing there but I wasn't really... I didn't come up with the line on my own, or at all, it was something else." He managed meekly. "I had rehearsed that line almost non-stop since production began. When I stood before the crowd, I felt my fear drift away and something else drift into my own form. Before then I had wanted more than to fill the role as best I could-"

"Which you did, I would have sworn that Dark Veins himself was standing in your very place." Rarity was hoping that the flattery would give some normalcy to the conversation, a covert plea to avert attention, sensing the outcome of his statement.

He was either ignorant to her pleas, or simply ignoring them. "As I stood on the stage, I felt a... feeling come over me, another spirit enter me." The family nearest by looked suspiciously towards him as he said that.

"Please, stop talking..." She muttered, her already unsteady heartbeat reaching dangerous levels. What the stallion said next nearly sent her into cardiac arrest.

"It was Dark Veins himself, come again! He must have needed my physical form to pass on his final message!" He told her proudly. Rarity let her head fall onto her jittering hooves which were laid flat on the table. A whisper passed through the hall, quick as lightning, and soon everypony at the feast was staring at him. Even as an actor he felt uncomfortable with the eyes staring at him, livid expressions were shared by all. "What is going on?" He asked Rarity who still had her head in her hooves, but it was now rocking back and forth.

"So," The king spoke calmly addressing the guest in a cool voice. "you claim to have been possessed?" The hall had been enveloped by silence, save for the sound of Rarity's head lolling about on her legs. "that is no light statement." The king continued, standing now and making his way over to the now uncomfortable unicorn.

"Well, your grace, you see I only meant that I paid him a tribute only he could have thought of." He spluttered in panic.

"Funny, as it was you had made the claim of his sprit passing into your own body." the king drew closer and the slithering sound of metal on leather edged his words. "A true magician of our people would never allow their bodies to be ruled by a specter. Only a warlock of yore would practice magic as dark." The accusation was clear and the shock was evident on everypony within the hall, with the exception of Rarity who had shut herself away from reality.

"Your grace, I-I meant no dishonor, no disrespect-" The stallion had started to sweat and shrink away from the king in fear.

"Disrespect? DISRESPECT?" The king bellowed now, shouts that rebounded about the keep. Servants could hear him in their quarters and the royal magicians in their solitary towers ignored their studies in fear. "This is no disrespect! This is blasphemy and criminal! Your breed toy with the fragile fabric of our world, calling on powers that no single horse should ever own!" His blade left its exquisite leather sheath, the sparkling clean, whetted steel humming with energy as the king's pale gold magic held it aloft by its platinum hilt. "My ancestors would put your kind to the sword!" He pressed the edge of his blade against Crescent's throat, holding the rivets of sweat in place under his chin. "Should I be any different?" He asked, mockingly begging the answer from Crescent.

"Sir, show mercy." Too scared for tears, Tuxedo Crescent voice was staggered now by the lump rising in his throat.

"I had every intent." The king answered, drawing the blade surgically across his throat, sending blood billowing through the air, every drop being caught by hidden servants and their magic. "I have shown great mercy on the rest of my people."

Rarity had run the moment the blade had left it's home at the king's hip. She now stood in the kitchen, fighting back tears and praying to the Great One that her uncle would for once show generosity. That hope was dashed with the sound of gurgling and the thud of a body slumping to the cold stone floor. She fled deeper into the kitchens, tears freely flowing down her face now as she ran.

The pantry ended her trek, providing a hiding spot for the terrified pony. She kicked the door behind her and it swung, tapping the frame gently but not closing entirely. Rarity sat and sobbed, praying once more, now for Crescent's peaceful passage into the next life. Courses left the kitchens and the family ate without her, momentarily forgetting the lady Rarity.

She waited within the pantry, letting her eyes dry and the puffy red rings vanish before leaving. Opening the door quietly, she stepped out and found that two cooks, both mares stood in her path, preparing the dinner. They spoke to each other in guttural voices, lowborn slang plaguing their words. "Gramps want the stew out yet?" One of them called and Rarity assumed she meant her uncle.

"Nah, he's still finishing off the leafys." Another female voice called from out of sight.

The mare who had spoken grunted and turned to her companion. "You'd think with all the trouble Gramps makes us go through for this food; he'd want to feed the gits sooner." She whined, stirring the cauldron that steamed in front of her.

"What you talking about? This one walked up to us, good eating too. Might have me a nibble 'fore the gits get their taste." The second grungy looking mare told her with a laugh, the steady snik of a knife cutting through thick bundles punctuated her words. "Wouldn't mind me some of them quakes for a full belly."

"Atorrante! They'd give you a Pegasus smile they would. You start quakin' and all of us would get 'em!" The first mare shouted, turning her body to clock the shorter horse across her head. "You're the smart one round here, can't be saying stupid things like that."

Rarity had stopped listening, and was instead looking past the conversing slaves, passed the brown stained knife, and the blood soaked hooves. She saw passed all of those, noticing only the raw red meat and the clumps of brilliant green hair discarded about the table on everything but the bloodstained cutting board. She looked down at her shaking legs and vomited. She was aware of the two mares turning to face her before the world went black, the last thing she smelled was the vile reek of her own sick before the world turned black as her head hit the ground, reverberating ringing bouncing about her head like shouts in the keep.

Lord Royal Waltz sat across the table from his sickly daughter, the pleasant sounds of her sister playing in the next room offered little solace for either. "It is kept from the young ones, and even most of the elders are withheld the secret. Of all your living relatives only I and your grandfather know of our diet." Rarity's father said in a hushed tone, hoping to spare his youngest daughter the trauma. "I had hoped you would stay ignorant with your cousins, and that the burden would die with me, but that simply isn't the work of things." He sighed. "Please, dear, say something. I've already lost your mother; I could not lose you as well."

"It was I who led her to the castle... if not for me she would live." Rarity said, louder than Royal Waltz would have liked. A bucket was clenched in her hooves emitting a horrid reek. “She came by my invitation and died because of it.” Sweetie Bell’s toys stopped making their clattering and Royal Waltz knew she was trying to listen in.

“You could not have known-“

“I could have guessed!” She shouted now, flinging the half full pail to the floor. The tin clanged on the floor and her vomit pooled out onto the planks.

“What’s going on?” Sweetie Bell stuck her head in, curious of the ruckus in her home.

“Nothing honey, your sister and I are just discussing...your birthday gift. She is ashamed of me for finding you the most obvious gift I could!” He lied, trying to divert the child. “Either way, it is time for you to sleep, the teachers want you rested.”

Sweetie grumbled as she walked away, complaining about how little time her father spent “discussing” with her. “Please Rarity; keep this away from the family. It is best if they didn’t know.” Royal Waltz stood, heading to his chambers.

“Father,” Rarity whispered from the table.

Royal Waltz whipped around. “Yes dear?”

“The royal family has existed to give a model to the rest of the race to live by. Is that not what I was taught?” Rarity asked as she stood to retrieve her bucket.

“Yes, of course...I know how that must make us sound after what has transpired.”

“No, I still know my duty...the secret is safe with me.” Rarity vowed to her father.

“Good. Thank you.” Her father smiled warmly. He crossed to the other side and drew his daughter into a hug before giving her a peck on the forehead. “Now, get to bed. Try and get some sleep.”

Rarity nodded at her father’s request, but remained in the room as he left. The words of her teachers and family stuck in her mind. “My duty is to protect them... and I shall.” Determination swept through her and, suddenly, a plan formed. It was gruesome, brilliant and would no doubt add more fuel to the flame of rebellion. “But it is my duty. I will not fail them.” Rarity swore, with the same sincerity that she had promised her father.

“I will give them the safety they deserve, or perish trying.”

Once again big thanks to Bob for, not only the editing, but the wonderful cover art he made me for this story. I am not worthy, I am not worthy. I think that is my quota of groveling done. For real, huge thanks man

Chapter 4: The Blood Hunger

Chapter Four: The Blood Hunger

The sleeping quarters were empty, save for one yellow Pegasus. Fluttershy sat on her bed, her dark steel armor hung carefully creating a phantom soldier to stand guard for her. A boiled leather vest covered her upper body and her wings clutched around her lower body, revealing only the edge of the dark circle of blades on her flank. In her solitude, she muttered to the parchment trapped between her hooves, its frayed edges and the creases in the paper made it clear the papyrus was aged several years, and tiny flakes of the wrinkled parchment had rained down around her the moment Fluttershy touched it.

"May you keep our wings straight and our flights above the clouds." She prayed half-heartedly. "When the time has come for our final landing, bring us to your infinite sky and protect us from the fall to the cold earth." The words came naturally, but even after all the years she found it difficult to speak them with the conviction with which most others had spoken it.

She paused when the customary praise and words had been given, hesitant to ask her personal salvation. "I...I had only one thing to ask for; they say you never make any mistakes, everypony around me says so." She licked her lips evidence that even talking made her uncomfortable, let alone to such a temperamental deity. "I don't doubt that... it's just... you made me this... this thing. I'm not fit for such a... a... gift." Fluttershy had to force the last word. "It would be far better used on somepony stronger, or more willing... so, please... reconsider... thank you."

Her eyes flickered open slowly, and she stared down at the parchment now, taking in the image upon it. A blinding white Pegasus faced away from the tumult below her, instead focusing on the black horse before her. The artist had captured the eyes as the best feature, red blots filled with hatred. "I don't want to be a monster." Fluttershy whispered to the white figure that had turned its back. "They say your brother was a... was like me. I just don't want to hurt anyone." Words failed her quickly. She sighed, folding the thick paper into a bent clump before tucking into the uniform bedside table that everyone in her regiment had.

The bunks were evenly spaced apart, giving only a modicum of room for possessions. Most of the space had been set aside for the armor stands and the small side table. All of the beds were made neatly, looking almost identical, but it was clear that they were in constant use. The flattened pillows, the threadbare blankets and the scuffs about the floor were obvious signs that the space was shared. Two areas stood out easily from their surroundings, places that hadn't yet been used. At the foot of the beds were plaques, dull bronze in color that bore the initials of resident. The two beds had been set aside for a "RD" and a "G".

Fluttershy stood from her bunk, collecting the rest of the leathers to wrap around her legs in attempt to fight back against the more pronounced chill of the day. Stopping by the first of the two beds, the one that was dedicated to "RD", Fluttershy smiled. "Rainbow will be leaving the hospital today." Her lips played up her face, but reminded her of the grim smile that was ever constant beside them. The grin died then, and she made her way to the door. The bed nearest to the door belonged to "G", but she breezed past it, not giving it a second thought.

She was greeted with a pleasant surprise outside. The eternal cloud cover had split slightly, allowing a few minutes of
pure, unfiltered sunshine through. After a moment spent basking, Fluttershy moved on, away from the barracks.

She passed by a few other buildings, mostly barracks built in the exact same fashion as her own. Small fields of clouds separated the constructs, and all were in use. Young pegasi were training under the orders of scattered sergeants. Some were moving supplies back and forth for strength training, while others, mostly the younger ones, were in the air practicing their flying. To the left of the strength trainers was the sparring zone. Pairs and, in some cases, groups fought against one another. The fights were ruthless as had been instructed. They were to show no mercy to their opponents, and not to stop fighting until they had been instructed, or the other had stopped breathing.

Fluttershy smiled at the young ones who had been brought to fight. They flailed wildly at each other, never landing any hits, which was to be expected when they all tended to keep their eyes closed. Fluttershy couldn't help but reminisce about her own training.

The drill sergeant barked an order at her, his face was only inches away from her ear. "Whelp! I told you, no food or rest until you actually fight a match!" Fluttershy shrunk away from the imposing stallion.

"I'm sorry sir." She breathed; her eyes clenched shut, tears running down her face. "I can't."

"You can, and will." He stood firm, blocking her exit and nudging her forcefully with his nose.

"Hey, sir." A young male voice called to the officer, it was shrill, even for a child's. "She doesn't want to fight me, can you blame her? I mean I am pretty intimidating." There was a joking tone to his voice. "They don't call me Ankle Biter for nothing."

The officer snorted. "A clown? The last thing we need is a joker in our ranks." He paused, narrowing his eyes in recognition before letting loose a spluttering laugh. "Wait a tick, I know you! You're the one who... Oh, this is priceless!" Still laughing, the sergeant nudged the cowering Pegasus from his path and walked into the ring. Fluttershy opened her eyes, compelled to watch now. "I think this runt is the perfect match for you whelp. He's, what is it? Three years older than you? And still half the size!" He still laughed, sending spittle into the colt's face.

"It's two, and don't call me runt." The colt's voice had changed now, a darker edge to it.

"What's the matter? I thought you were supposed to be the joker of your family." He taunted. "Don't you want people to laugh?" The officer let out a dramatic sigh. "Maybe, had you been training rather than joking, your family wouldn't have lost that dear sister of yours, eh, runt?" The sounds of the children nearby became null at his last comment; Fluttershy herself could barely stifle a gasp.

"She died gloriously-" The colt's voice had gone from dark to pitch black, stilling the hearts of everyone in earshot, "-In battle. I owe her my life." He assured the officer. "She fell as a true warrior. You, on the other hoof, are standing in front of me mocking a great mare." Fluttershy looked between the officer's hooves, staring at the pale green colt. "Tell me," Confidence crept back into his voice. "When did you fight last? Was it when you dozed off on your shift and let half a dozen unicorns through the breach?" The sound of the gasps was only shut out by the thud of hooves on skin and the sharp "Oof!" The colt let out.

A second later he was face down next to Fluttershy, wheezing after his lost breath. "Hi." He turned his head to face her. "Name's Gallion....tell my uncle I went down bravely." The clouds let out a wet thump as the officer landed beside Gallion, glowering down on the struggling colt. "So that's it?" He coughed. "You can fight, but only the young ones?" The stallion kicked him again, sending him rolling into Fluttershy and breaking a few ribs. "Ferocious!" The stupid colt still mocked. Repeatedly the sergeant kicked him, bruising his underbelly and shattering most every rib.

"Cut it out!" A rainbow blur appeared suddenly between the two.

"Thanks, but I don't need your help." Gallion groaned, clutching at his ruined stomach.

"I couldn't care less if you were dead right now; I just want to get something done today." The filly with the rainbow mane told him, turning her head slightly to face him. "Matter of fact, might be better, not have to deal with your shi-" A sharp kick to the face silenced her and sent the filly soaring over Fluttershy's head. A thin line of red followed her, dribbling from her torn up mouth. Fluttershy felt a few drops land on her and glanced down to see small specks of the blood had pooled on her hooves. She felt her head get lighter and lighter progressively until all she could see was darkness.

She shook her head, and forced her eyes open to marvel at the frightening sight before her. The officer twitched on the ground in front of her, his blood falling through the clouds and to the ground hundreds of feet below. "Look away!" A ragged voice called from beside her, willing her away from the body. "Trust me, if you don't want to set yourself off again, look away." She recognized the voice; it belonged to the green colt. "Are you ok?" He asked, concerned.

"Y-Y-yes." Fluttershy was trembling and could feel the familiar tweak of tears at the corner of her eyes. "Wh-what h-ha-ha-" She couldn't force the words out, but he could tell what she meant.

"Once Red started bleeding, you sort of lost it. Lunged at the guy and wouldn't let up off him." She was staring now at the groaning green colt. "You sure you're ok? Look kind of sick." He questioned.

"I'm f-f-f-fine." She muttered, and then let loose a stream of vomit, sending a shower of sick onto the ground, miles below them.

"Yeah, sure." He chuckled. "What's your name?" He asked abruptly, extending a hoof toward her. "I'm Gallion if you forgot." Fluttershy realized she had.

"Fluttershy." Taking the hoof, the two shook a greeting.

"Nice to meet you." The two spoke for a short while before the medics arrived and took him, the officer and the rainbow pony away.

It wasn't the happiest memory, but it was one she held close to her heart all the same. Fluttershy moved on, leaving the bustling field, and onwards to the infirmary. She remembered that day vividly as it yielded her only two friends. Had it not been for either of them, she was sure in the fact she would be dead, if not by a rogue unicorn than by her own hooves. Then, Gallion left.

She sighed, deciding that today would be a day of remembrance. Once that was determined she became lost to memory, entertaining herself as she walked across the grounds and on the long journey to the hospital.

The air swirled around the two as Gallion and Fluttershy snuck by the unsuspecting captains. Gallion was fighting back laughter as he laid on the thin cloud behind the congregation of captains. "Now," He whispered in his slightly deepened voice. "We make ourselves scarce... but not before this." The two scurried off as Gallion let out a cry. "You feathered barbarians! Face us like the soldiers you claim to be!" Gallion expertly mimicked the pronounced, posh accent of upper class unicorns. The group jumped to their feet as one and bolted towards the voice, blood already boiling. Before they could reach the pair the clouds gave out beneath their feet, sending them dropping a few hundred feet before they could snap their wings out to stop their fall.

She and Gallion were already half a mile away, Gallion still laughing as he surgically cut through clouds, waving and rolling through the slightly warming air. "If only we could see their faces!" Was the only thing he could manage to say against his laughing. After a few moments he calmed down enough to continue, "But the shouts were worth it!" Fluttershy nodded along, but didn't join in with the laughter. It was her fear that had brought her along with the stallion rather than a desire for pranks. The two had made quick friends since that day four years ago. She trusted him like a brother, and loved him in much the same way. He found the same solace in her, playing older sibling and protector.

She had tagged along with many of his pranks, only to watch over him and play look out. Fluttershy was the only one who would; many of the other's in her regiment hadn't taken to him as well as she had. Most harbored unhidden scorn and contempt for the stallion, some going as far as to threaten his life.

Gallion was coming down off his chuckles as they landed at the barracks. "Of course you were behind this." Rainbow was leaned against the doorframe of the barracks, a condescending glare cast at Gallion. "You're going to get her killed." She shoved off, a lethal calm in her expression.

"Lighten up, she's fine, I'm fine, most of the captains aren't going to be able to fly straight for a week. Everyone wins!" Nonchalant, he tried to step past the silently aggravated mare.

Rainbow put herself in front of him, blocking the entrance completely. "Yeah, this time, but what about the next? Or after that?" She demanded."You can't just take her with you down the drain!" Rainbow was on the verge of shouting now, the fact that the rest of the platoon was asleep keep her from the true rage she felt. "You may be going nowhere, but you're going alone!"

Gallion glared back now. “I’m going nowhere? Says you, Ms. Black Blur. What other garbage have you bought that those lying scumbags sold you?” They were close enough to touch noses, the hatred jumping like lightning between the two.

“They aren’t liars, they are patriots.” She told him, sending her own arc towards him. “They’ve been fighting for your freedom since before you were even born.”

“By killing villages upon villages of ponies who couldn’t tell the sharp end of a blade?” He retorted, planting his hooves into the clouds, the sparks flying from his own gaze now. “Yes, real patriotic.”

“Please you two…”Fluttershy begged quietly, but her words were lost in Rainbow’s speech.

“They were stopping supply lines, any trained general will tell you that an army travels on its stomach.”

"Come on Red, you can't honestly think-"

"You aren't being clever with the names."

"Please...just stop…" Fluttershy tried to make them listen, but her feeble voice was still drowned out, by Gallion this time.

"What? They fit! You're Red, Blue, Orange, everything!"

"And you're clever for pointing that out?"

"I'm clever because I'm smarter than you."

"Yet my family wanted me."

“Stop it!” Fluttershy pulled Gallion away from the mare before he could strike. “You two are fighting like children-“

“We are children, forced to give our lives to this stupid war!” She felt the stallion trying to shove by, but not as forcefully as she knew he could.

“Like children.” Fluttershy stood firm on this, staring into his eyes. She knew that her stare held a special effect on ponies, which is what she was hoping for now. “Now stop it and go to bed.”

“You swore you would never use that on me.” He snarled, trying to meet her gaze but failing. "I'll be out of here soon anyway... hell with you guys." Gallion shouldered past Fluttershy and made his way to the barracks, giving Dash a shove and sending her stumbling. The two watched Gallion barrel into the whelp's sleeping quarters, receiving a clamor of complaints as his welcome.

Fluttershy glared at Rainbow, her usual meekness forgotten temporarily. "You had no right." She grumbled, following her disgruntled friend.

"I'm not wrong am I?" Dash muttered and gave slow chase to her friend, eager to get out of the darkness. A sudden cold snap was freezing her blood.

Fluttershy was sure that one conversation had set off the events in both of her friend’s minds. Rainbow's obsession with being the soldier Gallion was never to be, and Gallion's dreams of escape, were catalysed by the same events. She was half way to the infirmary now. She took long, slow steps, still trapped in her own world of memory. Clouds once again shaded the sun, suffocating the natural light.

A decade had passed since they had first met, and still the trio acted the same. All that had changed was the location. Since then they had grown, but Gallion remained the smallest of them all, waiting on his growth spurt even now. The tension between him and Rainbow had only grown with them. Even now as they made toward the training field through the cascade of wet snow, Fluttershy had to stand between them to prevent murder as tempers ran hot enough to keep all three more than warm.

“I’m telling you,” Rainbow insisted, hovering a few feet off the ground. “There was only one way to do it!”

The stallion snorted, a cloud of his frozen breath momentarily shading his violet eyes. “Of course it was. I mean, when isn’t torture the only method?”

Fluttershy sighed between them, forgotten again in their bickering. She had suffered the brunt of most of their complaints about the other, constantly torn between the two warring worlds of her only allies. Though, at this point the pretense of friendship had been dropped. They were siblings in all but blood at this point, Fluttershy and her two companions.

"What'd you think, sis?" Gallion's ever friendly voice invited her from her detached state.

"Um...." She hesitantly responded, thinking back to the morning and who she'd agreed with last. "I think you're right." She offered, hoping that would keep the delicate balance between them.

"Of course I am!" Gallion sneered, sticking out his tongue to mock his streaked adversary. "I always am. At least 'till you lose count, right Fluttershy?" She gave a squeak, startled that he had noticed. "Don't worry, I don't blame you." He gave a sideways glance at Dash and noticed her surprise. "You didn't notice? Well, not much of a surprise, really..." Rainbow swung at him, cracking him over the side of his head.

She shot off, vanishing from sight in a second, leaving the pair behind. "Hey sis," Gallion had started calling her by the pet name two years ago, and now it held more sway than her given name as she was rarely addressed by it anymore. "You're kinda quiet today," Fluttershy gave him a skeptical look, managing to look comically quizzical. "More so than normal!" He laughed. "What's up? Boy problem? Is it me? Sorry, I'll try and turn the sexy down a smidge." He chortled still, even with the grave look that marred her usually peaceful face.

"They know." It was the only thing that needed saying; he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"How?" This was the only question that he needed to ask. Gallion's laugh had fallen off, replaced by a monotone grumble. "Better yet, who?" Fluttershy was never more afraid than when his voice had lost emotion, an alien event for the sporadic pony. "Who told them? We are the only ones who are supposed to know!" He was biting back his rage now, sending tremors quaking about his body. "Don't worry," He was speaking now, trying to reassure somepony - more likely than not, himself - but still failing dramatically. "We'll think of something."

"No, we won't." Fluttershy had stopped walking and now sat on one of the frigid clouds of ice. "We never do." She blubbered now, terrified. "They had to find out today, of all days."

Gallion sat beside her. "It's going to be fine; you're going to be fine, because you've got a genius for a brother. When's your grinning? I need to know my schedule." He asked, somehow producing a friendly, reassuring tone.

Fluttershy laughed meekly through the budding tears. "Tonight. You call yourself my brother. I'm fifteen today."

Fluttershy shook herself, not wanting to relive the terror of that grisly day. Out of the drowning pool of memory she had sunk into, she looked around, momentarily lost. The street was familiar to her, but she couldn't yet place it in her current mental state. Turning in a full circle, she got her bearings, drawing in her surroundings. The barracks around her shared similarly fashioned symbols, from the seventh to tenth regiment. The constant reoccurring image was the dark hoof print that took up most of the sigils, whether surrounded by the burning frontlines of the seventh, caught in the hail storm of squalling eighth, gripped in the talons of the bloody griffons that the ninth brought back, or lost amidst the night sky of the silent tenth.

She processed this and oriented herself, turning on her heel to make way, slightly embarrassed that she had missed her target. On her way back to the hospital, she saw that her isolation had ended. Two more Pegasus had joined her on the path. Nodding at the stallions, Fluttershy walked parallel to them, feeling intrusive as the pair had stopped their chatter the moment she had arrived on the road. In her discomfort something about the two caught her eye, though she couldn't have said what.

They strode on in lock step; each crunching stride made the uncomfortable silence all the more unbearable. The snow fell onto them as they traveled, and Fluttershy noted their shivers. They shook harder than any trained soldier, but it was a very chilling day she tried to reason. Then it dawned on her what had drawn her attention. Their armor did not fit in the way Pegasus armor did, especially the helmets. Slowing herself down, Fluttershy started to examine the pair in more detail and saw more discrepancies on them. Their wings were drawn to far back on their bodies, and the cantor they moved with was a mixture of dainty and nervous, like they were unused to the nimbus street beneath them.

"Well," Fluttershy bumped into one of the stallions, they had stopped walking while she had examined them. "It seems you have come too close for your own good." He spoke in an accent that she had heard Gallion parrot with ease. "And perhaps learned something that had best remain a secret?" The two stared down at her now, grins on their faces at the upcoming slaughter. Their scars were a wonderful counterfeit, looking almost natural until they smiled. The lines vanished for a moment, needing the time to reform in their new locations.

"No," She whispered, taking a few steps back. "I don't want to fight you." She begged with them, taking hurried steps away only to have them close the gap.

"Ah, pues bien!" The second one spoke in a accent similar to his compatriot, but the words were cut sharply and the slang was unrecognizable. "We'll just leave you be then? Don't think so, Cáscara, we've got us a cover to keep." His grin showed black, stained teeth. A hoof darted out and caught the yellow pony under the chin, sending Fluttershy reeling. The taste of iron flooded her mouth, along with a burning pain in her check were her teeth sunk into the soft flesh.

Spitting onto her hoof her words were garbled now as the blood pooled in her mouth. "I'm sorry." Her hoof was stained red one moment, and then painted up to the joint the next. The time had been lost along with the life of one of the stallions. The other was nowhere to be found, but a trail of blood told his tale of a narrow brush with death. Averting her eyes, Fluttershy jumped and took off at her top speed, making way to the nearest officer’s tent to report what she had just seen.

An hour later the body had been gathered and Fluttershy investigated thoroughly, every aspect of the day gone over to determine the provocation of the unicorns. Only once the interrogation had concluded and she was free to go, did Fluttershy remember what she had intended to do that day. "May I be excused?" she softly asked of the stallion taking the report. "If you don't mind, that is."

The stallion was a darker yellow than her, and his mane a raging fire of red. "Of course, thank you for your time, Blood Hunger." She stiffened at the name, shyness and shame locked her body. The stallion looked from his report. "Something wrong?" He asked, regarding her casually.

"No, nothing... have a nice day." Flutttershy swung her wings back, covering the symbol too late. The black ring of six blades surrounding a "B" of the same color had left its hiding place under her wing. It was obviously burnt into her side, the intricate overlapping blades burrowed a few centimeters into her flesh. She was marked as the next Blood Hunger, a true one in the drought of the past generations.

The name had been given to the god Manocouses, the story of his thirst for blood told to scare foals since before anypony could remember. Whenever the violent deity witnessed battle or bloodshed, a hunger awoke within, sending him into a fit of blind rage and making him ten times as strong. He was revered for this, even after his descent to the stone and the stripping of his powers. Still, the trait still shone through, rearing its head most every generation in varying strengths. Fluttershy's had manifested much stronger than recorded, rivaling the devil's own rage.

She stood with the rest of her month, shivering harder than the others. "So that is how it must be." Feather Foot addressed the group as the armored pegasi closed the circle around the cluster of young ones, regretful looks plastered across their face. "I wish it hadn't have come to this, but some things can't be avoided." Fluttershy felt the rough twine of the rope slide through her lips and the weight of the stone drag her down.

She dropped with a yelp, feeling the harsh grip pull into her cheeks. The wind whistled by, the only indication that she was moving as her eyes were held shut. "Look up," Feather Foot flew incomparably fast, keeping pace with her descent. "Look up or you will die and you can't die. It would ruin everything." Fluttershy opened her eye a crack, her eyes must have been more tear soaked than she thought, since the captain had lost every feature. Only a shadow of the horse fell beside her. "Fly! Open your eyes and fly!" His voice was seductive, enticing her to obey. "Fly! Fly you foal!" The sticky lifeblood landed on her face, its fading heat sending disgust in shudders through her. She couldn't help but look now as the air became noticeably thicker and harder for her to breath. A crimson coating obscured her vision, but the color was enough since she had no doubt what it was. Her wings snapped taut, and she hung in the air, growling like a rabid animal. Spinning, she wheeled in a few full circles, releasing the rope on the upward arc of the fourth spin. The rock cleared the cloud easily, and on its way back down met briefly with her rear hooves, shattering into pebbles.

Fluttershy awoke from her trance to six strong horses holding her in place. A whistling shriek pierced the silence on the out of the way cloud bank. She twisted her head around, groggily searching for the origin of the noise. An old Pegasus stood next to a pit of coals, impossibly suspended on the dark grey clouds. A metal rod stuck out of the pit which, at least as far as Fluttershy could reason in her impaired state, must have been whining. "Hold her still; we cannot afford to have her loose." The voice was one she heard every day, but couldn't place yet. The old horse withdrew the rod, fully exposing the white, blisteringly hot metal to the frozen air. "That's funny," Fluttershy thought, a relaxed smile coming to her face as the screaming metal moved through the dancing rain she had just noticed. "It looks like a firefly." The rod hissed with every drop, creating a chorus of its angry battle against the water.

The old horse closed the gap between them, his decaying teeth clamped down on the cool end. "I wonder what he's doing with that." Fluttershy nodded her head, and giggled for no reason. "Funny, looks like he is walking to me."

"She's awake?" The flame bearer's lips moved around the metal.

"She's in no state to fight back now, and even if she was my elites would be more than a match." The everyday voice told him, urging him on. "Hurry, else she may regain some of her senses."

The old horse moved to her side. "Funny, it's like he's lining up with me."

He aligned the poker with her flank. "Funny, looks like he wants to poke me with that."

The scent of burning filled the air. "Funny, it's like he actually-" She woke up then, feeling the intense pain on her flank, shrieking loud enough to mask the cries of the boiling rod.

Fully awake now, she fought against her captors, but without the same vigor she had mustered against the boulder. Feather Foot stepped into her line of sight, cracking her across the face with his hoof. "Calm down, it's over." He commanded her attention, his voice an odd mixture of anger and satisfaction. Fluttershy realized that the gray clouds were not airborne, but piles of rock piled onto a mountain range. "You are the new Blood Hunger; this old coot was our old one, and you're replacing him." The old horse nodded in agreement, "Now, you listen and you listen good: you belong to the title, not the other way around. It's been stamped on your flank, do you know why?" Fluttershy shook her head. "It means that no matter what your mark is, no matter when your talent reveals, you are the Blood Hunger. Nothing else, understand?" She nodded in understanding, biting her lip still to stop herself from screaming in pain. "Good. If it's any comfort, the plan is perfectly in motion." He told her, a sinister shadow creeping over his face.

Fluttershy sighed, she had hoped to forget that memory, but it clung to her mind like a foal to its mother’s teat. She had covered much of the distance now, arriving at the hospital at last. The day had hardly gone the way she had hoped it would; the sunshine in the morning had been a good omen, but unable to predict the things to come. The friendly nurse who presided over Rainbow's ward waved her in excitedly. "You'll never guess what has happened!" She grabbed Fluttershy by the wrist and dragged her into Rainbow's room, still babbling with childlike enthusiasm.

Fluttershy gazed in, seeing the only pleasant surprise of the day. Rainbow was out of bed, doing pushups on the floor. "49, 50, 51..." She counted in a voice that had grown hoarse from disuse. Sweat rolling down her face and hitting the floor. She was completely oblivious to the intrusion.

Unable to keep the glee from her face, Fluttershy jumped at her, tackling her as Rainbow rose from the push position. She hugged her surrogate sister for a few minutes, and Rainbow begrudgingly hugged back, but Fluttershy knew that her sister was more than happy to see her alive and well. Fluttershy hung tight onto her, not wanting to release her, in fear of what she had to tell the multicolored mare next. It was time to reveal the secret that only two had shared since the day the plan started those months ago.

Thanks again to Bob for once again editing and for the cover art.

Chapter 5: The Teacher

The commoners bustled up and down the cobblestone roads of Canterlot. Once, this city was the shining centre of the empire, built on the legend of Dark Veins and the backs of commoners like those who wandered the streets. Some were peddling their wears and others were ignoring the petty vendors. Commerce was rarely done legally, but there were the few who fought against the norm of deviancy, clinging to the dream of a life free of crime. Today had been looking up for those who held the ideals; no reported thefts, no fresh bodies had been found in the allies, and the gangs had been quiet for the past day. The peace fostered hope in the ponies who resided there, even in the ever chilled city they called their home.

A whistle rose above the oceanic roar of commoner’s slurred slang. Shouts followed the shrill whistle. "Stop them! Traitors!" A herd of masked, cloaked ponies came barreling down the road, tearing up cobbles as they ran. Guards followed in their destructive wake, stopping the torn up chunks before the muddy projectiles could land on them. The civilians were less lucky, taking unwanted dirt showers and a few stones across their bodies.

The cloaked figures thundered off Trade Street and into a back alley, sending the echoes of their hooves echoing about the side streets before scattering. After they had vanished, the guards only caught a final wisp of a dark purple tail, whipping around a corner. The pack of guards rushed around the corner, ecstatic to have the chase come to a fruitful end. The alley around the bend was consumed by shadow, with the cloaked figures failing to use the darkness to mask their presence. "Well, it's been nice," The voice was clearly female, and smug. "But I've gotta go, putos." Behind her mask, eyes shining, the deep purple was quickly engulfed by a blinding white. Light spread from her eyes, bubbling out into a shell, isolating the figure from the world. In one brilliant flash, the bubble burst, pulsing outward, producing a crack that was heard city wide. The explosion deafened the mare's pursuers, and the pulse torched their retinas. Their final vision was of, not only the white light, but a dazzling pink sunburst, and then a fade to black as their eyes became useless.

Twilight Sparkle swung her front door open into the chilly wasteland of her home city. Wading into the shin high snow, she made her way down Bottom Row. The street's old name had been forgotten long ago, and while a few faded signs told of its true heritage, most were either too vandalized to bear the residences moniker or had been used as timber. There was a simple reason why it had been given its name; this was the bottom of the city. Both literally and figuratively. It had been built at the lowest point in the city, giving it only an hour of sunlight daily, giving the shadows their reign over the forgotten homes. Gang signs were stained over every surface, drawn in paint and blood. Twilight was sure if she scrubbed away at them she would find a lost history of the under lower class. She wouldn't, though, as coming anywhere near the tags would immediately affiliate you, and members seemed to have a strange sixth sense; they were able to phase onto the street whenever someone took the initiative to remove the tags. Twilight was certain they did it with magic, but even as her obsessive and curious side ached and clawed to be released, she fought to stay away from the markings.

The sun shone through ever so slightly; the clouds had parted for a short while but returned with a vengeance, quickly blotting out the sun. Forcing her way between the two pinched snow banks at the end of the street, Twilight sent loose a shower of flakes and clump to the ground. The path to the factory was lined on either side by mountainous piles of the dirty snow. It was like this most everywhere in the city, making it more than a hassle to travel many of the streets. The only places immune to the plague of snow were Trade Street, the Royal "Garden", and "The Great One's Abby", as they were under the constant supervision of plow horses. Twilight followed the cramped passages, letting the predetermined route take her to the factory.

From the outside, the factory looked horrible. Inside, congregated iron was being made for cheap building material and cheaper insulation. The doors were open both during and after work hours, as the four parallel smoke stacks that stuck out of its roof were continually spouting ash and a detritus-like substance into the muddled sky. This had been problematic for the workers, after the water condensed within the smoke stacks was exposed and froze quickly. The freezing led to plates of ice covering the soot's only escape. After the fourth occasion of factory wide suffocation, the decision had been made to keep the doors open at all times, letting the smoke out, but freezing the working ponies within. Twilight entered her workplace, doggedly glancing around at the line workers. Her place of work laid three floors below, away from the smelting furnaces of the ponies on this floor. She was unafraid of the muscle bound smiths, but she still felt herself quicken her pace as they glared. The way they stared; Twilight knew why they hated her. Hierarchy not only ran her city, but her job as well; the deeper underground you went, the more power you held. She worked on the bottom level, a secret hidden away from all but the royals and the city guard.

She stepped into the magic elevator, letting the faded metal door clatter shut behind her, the weight brought her down. She ignored the other floors, nothing of her interest, until she reached bottom. The gate clacked open again and she stepped out onto the growing floor. Tired looking unicorns were cantering about the floor, up and down the lanes of magical conveyer belts, wrapping the teeny brown seeds in magical cloaks. A few armored guards made careful patrol up and down the aisles, the clinking of the whetted steel blades on armor enhanced magically to remind the workers here who took care of them; who kept them safe; who would end them if word of this was breathed from any of their lips.

Twilight took her place on the line beside Helping Hooves, a tall, chubby bold yellow unicorn. She greeted Twilight with a grin and a gentle nudge with her hoof. "There she is! 'Owed the cookin' go, master chef?" the yellow unicorn asked while wrapping seeds in her light orange magic. "Gramps get his fill?"She joked, slipping away to check on her batch before they vanished into the baskets.

"You keep teasing, I get the extra bits, just for feedin' them gits." Twilight responded, taking up her friend's old place at the head of the machine, imbuing each of the seeds with her own purple magic. "Give those afrentaos the food they bring in, an' I get paid for et? Raw deal for them!" She laughed, even though the use of the slang was slowly grating on her nerves. It hadn't come as easily as her co-workers use of it, and never sounded right when she used the words.

"I hear that. What you ladies serve 'em last night?" Helping Hooves had rejoined Twilight, handling every other cluster of seeds that came through, letting her partner count their total and handle the odd numbered bunches. Machines hissed, sending clouds of vapor into the air to join the steady sound of cloven hooves, with a bizarre orchestra filling the air. "I always 'eard the stew was ta die for."

"You know I couldn't tell you anything even if I wanted to." Twilight told her. Even now she tried to recall the memories of the night prior, but all that came was static and blurry moments. "They wiped me, few things comin' back though." This was true, but none were rational, and all left her feeling frightened. A sticky, damp coating up her arms, the taste of iron, clipping noises as knife hit board, the color red. "Nothin' o' any 'portance." Shivers ran up her spin now that she tried to remember more. The more she probed the harder the chills came until it became unbearable. "I'll work on it later."

"You best, I wanna know all 'bout them plump ol' gits."

“You think you in any way to call them plump?” Twilight laughed at her large friend.

“We are not paying you to laugh.” A guard called, letting his clinks punctuate the words.

The two fell into silence, and mechanically went about their jobs. Seeds came down the line, lifted into the air momentarily, changed their color, grew thicker and returned to the belt, adding to Twilight's count. Magical solutions, in most cases, were not the most permanent nor very easily adapted or changed, but were taught to all foals from birth and made them better than the other tribes.

This particular spell had been used since the snow started to fall in this land; it's primary purpose was to protect the seeds from the cold, increase the resilience of the shell, as well as increase the longevity of the tree, once grown. Rumors had been circulating of the potency of the spell; how it was waning; how it was outdated; how it would fail in the next few years, how the food supply would dry up and the city would fall as the war still raged.

Twilight could verify all but the last.

Spell power inevitably wore off, often times very quickly, so it was remarkable that the seeds had been so successful over the generations. Even now it had at least a dozen years before it was expected to fall apart. As she worked, Twilight witnessed her mind wander onto this topic, the menial chore begging for her to daydream. The hours ticked by slowly, and Twilight went through three or four perfect spell designs that would solve the problem indefinitely, and be far simpler to apply in large groups, eliminating the need for single cast spells. She knew, however, none of her ideas would be taken into account. "Such is the plight of the urchin" Glad that she was unheard within her own thoughts, she went on, "To toil and sweat, while those who claim themselves the true intellectuals sit, thinking over their own power, solving no problems but the thought 'Where should my money rest?'" Pride bubbled up in her with the philosophy.

"-nny?" Helping Hooves was speaking, but in her distraction, the words were snapped up by the hissing machines.

"Huh?" She blinked, dropping the hovering seeds.

"I say, what so funny?" A wry look crossing her face, temporarily obscured by a seed cluster for a moment. "Some galán catch your peepers?" Twilight's purple face hid her blush, but bit her upper lip, showing her embarrassment. "That a yes dear?"

"N-no." She shook her head furiously, letting a few clusters slide by unenchanted. Twilight had to run to the end to catch her quarry, slowly moving her way back to the production machine. "Never!" Helping Hand laughed at her promise and the disturbed look on the young mares face.

"Nothin' wrong wit that dear!" The yellow pony garbled out breathlessly. Her laughs were quieted by another threat from the patrolling guards. "Everypony has it. Betcha ten bits ahora there's two young ones just clambering to the bed-" A glare from Twilight cut her off. "Nothin' by it, nothin' by it!" They returned to silence, awkwardly running out the clock to their shifts end.

Twilight became an automaton, methodically enchanting her own supply while staring at the mare across from her. Twilight's earliest memories were of her, the yellow pony standing across from her. Never knowing her parents properly, she was left in the care of Helping Hooves shortly after her second birthday as her parents left, pursuing the rumors of a new life on the unicorn frontier. At first they had sent letters every week, chronicling their immediate successes; opening shop, the boom of sales, how everypony that side of the region needed the seeds they provided. The letters took a darker turn quickly as the snow caught up with the town. Time between each message grew, biweekly, monthly, bimonthly, half a year. Soon the last came, only a few sentences long. "Not coming back. They're dead. He's dead. Tell Twilight mommy loves her. Tell her the same for her father. Not coming back." That arrived on her ninth birthday, and she had read it that night while her guardian slept. The dirty brown paper was stained with dark pinpricks before she started reading, and more had appeared once she had finished. She had no doubt it was her mother’s writing and the stallion she was referring to must have been her father. Her tears had flowed the entire night, and most of the next day.

That day spent in tears brought about a revelation in Twilight, something that stuck in her head and sparked her own interests in knowledge. It had come as a whisper, tickling her ear and blowing about her hair. "Life is fleeting, family is mortal. Knowledge lasts forever." As softly and quickly as it had come it vanished, whipping around her head and back into the nothingness from whence it came. She sat in her room that day, pondering the words; her sorrow had been forgotten for the moment. It was then she cracked open the dusty old tomes of her father and the magic began.

To this day she studied on, learning history, literature, mathematics, every second hand book she could scrounge from the trash of the higher class. The subject that she spent the most of her life on was magic, giving her an adeptness unrivaled by all of her co-workers and many of the higher class who would pour over spell books for days at a time. She kept her talent hidden, worried more about isolation of her surrogate mother than the legal repercussions of her borderline robbery. Were the gift to be discovered it was likely she would never be seen or heard from again. The sharp whistle that signified her shifts end broke her trance once again, assisted by Helping's jovial laugh. "'Nother day, nother dollar!" She told Twilight as the machines stopped.

"Half dollar, plus food." Twilight corrected as they lined up for pay. They weren't the only ones talking, the line had burst into a roaring murmur. The whistle had aggravated her head, giving the embers of a sudden headache a final surge of air, rising into a flame. "For a full days wage." The buzz of the crowd was unbearable.

"Ya know, ya could do with a brighter point of view."

"Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are all miserable. Coltaire." She snapped, cringing as she realized what she had said.

"Now where did you pick that up?" Her partner inquired, smiling. "We always did call ya the smart one, didn't know we had a genius on our hooves!" Twilight smiled sheepishly, casting her eyes around, hoping none of the guards found anything amiss. The roar that had been a bother a moment ago was her salvation, drowning out her words and those of her caregiver. The line moved forward as they were paid two by two.

She breezed past the guards as the bits floated to her opened pouch, clinking softly as they joined her meager pile. Helping plodded along cheerily beside, smiling in the cold air as she moved. She was far from graceful, but effect in her movements, however sloppy. "Hitting the drink tonight. Join us?" Twilight rolled her tongue around her mouth, acting thoughtful.

"A few more moments, make it look hopeful." She let a smile slide up on her face, mirroring the increasingly wide-set one on Helping Hooves'. then, she felt it drop, false aggravation camouflage her face. "I can't...damn Culos 'ave me working' till late." She broke their lock step to make her way home.

"Come on," Hooves moaned from behind. "You can't just spend your life 'tween work an' home. My ma always said 'Pony ain't meant to live on bread alone'"

"Don't need the two bit advice."

"It's above your pay grade anyway," she joked, trotting along, still loitering behind her. "When you gonna be done?"

"When I'm done." Twilight gave the answer automatically, well versed in the response. She gave it often enough. Over the years it placated her guardian less and less. Helping never vocalized it, though, and Twilight could see her biting her cheek, creating a small indent on her face, but did nothing to stop her surrogate child from departing.

Twilight followed the old path to her home, between the cavernous snow piles again. The homes she passed by went through a gradually developing state of decay. From the two story homes of the factory owners and noblemen to the town homes and, finally, her familiar slums. Streets branched off at regular intervals along the way, leading onto roads of varying luster. Signs passed by, unnoticed by Twilight; she knew them off by heart now. Emerald way; Ruby crescent; Sapphire road; Obsidian street; Jet drive; they all slipped by until she landed on Bottom row. Mares and stallions were gathered on either side of the street, cheap clothing and paint marking them as gang members. Tension was thick in the air with the pre-fight anxiety. Twilight calmly made her way down the street, in between the factions, both ready for war. Keeping her head down, she avoided the threatening gazes on both sides, her house growing steadily closer along with the increasing threat of battle.

She only allowed a breath of relief when the door was locked behind her and she was up the first flight of stairs. The place was dilapidated and worn; the rickety stairs and stale paint made that clear. Paint hung off the walls in strips like fingers groping down at all who wandered in. They brushed Twilight's back as she made her way up the stairs. She shivered each time, the ghostly appendages begging her for attention. As she climbed the stairs, she was greeted by a new sensation at every floor: the excited squeals or tortured cries of the new born filly on the first floor; a constant smell of smoke that shimmered under the door on the second. As always, the third and fourth were silent; gang patterned doors extenuated this silence, and the fearful pounding in her chest increased her speed. The fifth floor brought a new adventure every day since it's residence changed with the tide. Dainty laughter and gentle clinking announced the sixth floor, the richest resident enjoyed their freedom, while siphoning money from their parents. Finally she reached her own floor, where a simple door at first look betrayed the cunning system that lay beneath the surface. A magical lock, recognizing only her magic and horn and frying any who tried to break in. That was the premise at least - she had never seen it in practice, only read in books.

Slotting her glowing horn into the lock, the door should have silently opened, sliding up and into the roof. Instead, it rumbled and scraped, sending a shower of dust down on her. Lingering a moment underneath the doorway, Twilight tried to determine the reason behind the dust and noise. A few bricks were pushed back into the vertical doorway in an uneven square. Twilight's heart froze, tentatively took a few steps into her home. Ruins greeted her, the single bookcase tipped over and rummaged through, as was the poorly carpentered vanity across from her threadbare bed. The kitchen had received the same treatment, drawers lay on the ground, and cupboards missing their doors. Her small couch and chair were torn apart in the frenzied search, leaving stuffing over the floor. "Officer Steel Borne arrived this afternoon." A gravelly voice appeared at her flank, just outside the doorway. "Such a shame; so much time and effort wasted by his guards." The voice stayed neutral as Twilight had come to expect. The pony never spoke with emotion, only in a matter of fact cadence. It was clearly masked by magic. "Our own will assist in refurbishing. Report."

"Not much was spoken of today Teacher, but the magic spoke volumes." Twilight was far from comfortable in the horse's presence. Turning to face the ambiguous form, she lowered her head in a respectful bow. "The supplies will run short soon and spells will die. I've done my best to mask this from the superiors. Perhaps when our food is gone our masterful leaders will at least consider negotiation." Booted hooves appeared in her vision, one raising to lift her sunk head.

"Good work. You have been imperative to our work, my Trust." The compliment made her glow, though it was said with no emotion. "And, since it has been your work that has brought us this far, you shall deliver word to our contacts." Her appreciative glow vanished in that instant, and her head snapped upright.

"Teacher, surely you have charges far more suited to this...honor!" She met the pale white gaze of her master, the only thing visible under it's dark cloak.

"Do you question my judgment?" Cold air wafted about the room, though the tone stayed the same. "Perhaps you should teach me instead, young one?"

"N-no teacher, my intention was not to offend. I merely think that others are far more qualified than I to represent our organization. " She apologized, bowing again. "If you wish me to go-"

"I do. And you shall. Midnight tonight was arranged for the meet. You will be there, early if you can." Twilight would be early, out of fear of her master's sickly creative wrath.

Twilight sighed inwardly and responded. "Yes master."

Blood soaked the streets, pooling from the wrecked bodies of the dead or dying warriors outside of Twilight's home. Just as she had earlier in the day, she scurried down the center of the street, remarkably untouched by the violence.

The city by night was stunning. Enchanted street lamps glowing dimly in some parts, the lower class most often, and then rising into a brilliant show of multicolored lights. Twilight turned her back to the brilliance, and even left the dim lamps after a few minutes of walking. Nighttime held a terror for her, something she had never quite grown out of. Things lurked in the darkness of the city, this she knew, and no promises made by the adults in her life would convince her otherwise.

Civilian streets grew further and farther between, turning quickly to airship docks and private companies' warehouses. With the shift in the buildings, the populace shared in the difference, becoming more disheveled and needy as the buildings grew larger and more industrious.

As the homeless and industry passed, Twilight's nervousness grew, sending her heart once more into her throat. Sweat ran in bullets but her midnight blue robes masked the shining specks. The air was frigid - more so than normal - but she couldn't feel the cut of the wind; her beating heart gave her fearful warmth as she drew nearer and nearer to the congress. A bell tolled, marking the half hour, sending a jolt of through her frayed nerves.

Ringing next to her was a bell tower, it's red brick exterior faded over the decades, it's fame legendary. This was the first building in the city; it had originally been the center of the city, creating an unnatural land mark to ward away any who sought to settle the land as well. Only the most sacred were allowed up during the day, but at night only the most skilled. This was her meeting place, chosen for its security - easily bypassed by Twilight - and accessible by the air - for their flying contact. Attempting to swallow with a dry, contracted throat, she unlocked the door and entered into the single wide, winding, circular staircase, leading up by alcoves housing structures of the Great One, and Dark Veins, the patron. Sweat poured into her eyes, blinding her during the climb. No amount of blinks or wipes could clear them, forcing her to simply power through and stumble over each step. It was a constant fight to the full height of the tower, and each step brought a heavier feeling of dread over her. The anxiety offered something else though, a strange new feeling for Twilight; pure, unbridled freedom. Alien, though it was, she welcomed it as it elevated some of the crushing stress from her frame. She edged closer to the top, chilled by the sweat that had coated her body. The clock above her head read ten minutes to the hour, telling her she was running early for the meeting. "So some of your breed are punctual, eh Uni?" A gravelly male voice asked from above.

Twilight jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of the Pegasus in the same robe as her, only a few sizes up scaled. The stallion hovered over her head, a shroud of shadow hid him until now. He descended on wide set brown wings, and touched softly down without out a noise. Twilight could only think of him as Bat now, his shadowy figure and deep chestnut color made the name an easy fit for him. "Don't be too hard on the girl, sssshe'sss only jusst been sssent out. Your firsst time was the mosst nerve wracking, wasss it not?" An earth pony slithered around the bell. "Ssshe'sss green asss a filly, ssscared asss one too. Are you alright?" She spoke in an easy, friendly manner, almost seductively inviting her to lower her guard. Defensively, Twilight steeled herself again, bristling against the welcoming, calming tones. Snake, she decided, would be a fitting name for the earth pony and her whistling hiss. Snake wore a robe the same color as her's and Bat's, deep midnight blue, but had a deeper hood to mask her face.

"Fine." Twilight mumbled, shying back a few inches.

"Well, let's get started then; what's the news Uni?" Bat demanded.

Twilight looked up at the clock, five minutes to the hour. "Don't you think we should wait un-"

"We're all here, why should we wait any longer?"Growled Bat, fluttering his wings with impatience, to punctuate his voice.

"Now, now, if ssshe wantsss to wait until her deadline, sssshould we not let her?" Snake turned on the Pegasus, spittle appearing on the side of the bell her left side hugged defensively.

"No, it's... it's fine." Three to the hour. "We can start now if it would be better for you. But, my payment...?" Her contacts both loosed bags of money at her, dropping them at her feet. "Thank you," She hovered the bags onto her back, clipping them onto her side. "Very well then, the magic on our seeds are wearing off, and the magicians-"

"Will take pleasure extracting your secrets." A new voice interrupted, shattering the stillness and silence of the night. Unicorns appeared around them in bright flashes, grimacing and bearing blades. Within seconds, Snake was pinned, whistling her violent protest, while Bat launched himself into the air, only to be pierced by arrows fired by the dozens of archers laying in wait. His limp body plummeted to the ground, a loud splat announced his landing. "We have less to worry about with you two, don't we?" Steel Borne glanced between the two hooded figures, his wrinkled white face looked weary, even in light of his success. "Take the mud pony away, but keep the traitor here a moment... I'd like to show her the fate her breed deserves." Snake was dragged away, still spitting her whistled curses.

Steel Borne paced back and forth in front of Twilight as his team filed out, one by one, leading the earth pony half way between them, ready to catch her again at the slightest possibility of escape. Once the door had shut behind them did Steel Borne speak again. "You simply had to, didn't you?" Rage glowed in his eyes as his pacing stopped. "You couldn't control yourself, so you go and ruin the plan?" Shadows flickered over his face, confusing Twilight more than scaring her. She felt no magic manipulated in his presence, yet the light started to bend around him. The white stallion stopped, standing directly in front of her, grating his teeth and glowering at her again. "No matter...no matter! Only a minor problem. But, oh, the inconvenience!" Blue light clasped the hilt of his rapier and drew it from the ornate scabbard that hung from his flank. "And children who meddle in the affairs of adults must be taught to behave." The last word was said with a grisly joy. He drew the blade into his vision, examining it. "This is my best sword, but useless at the moment..." Taking a breath, he focused, a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. Twilight leaned in, too intrigued by the magic to run. Blackness covered the blade, wrapping it like a blanket around a foal, and ushered in a new form. It expanded, gaining a serrated edge and a much wider blade and hilt. White light appeared at the openings around the top of the bell tower, rippling before becoming solid light again. "Now, the lesson." Twilight's chest froze as the new sword was pressed against the first ridge in her horn. "You are a good student from what I've seen, so you should learn quickly." The white light muted her screams.

The Teacher watched from across the city, sighting from the undisturbed, frozen vigil atop the student's workplace. It smiled grimly as white light impeded its vision. "It is done," the voice was uncloaked now, marking it as female. "Now the order shall be reset." She spoke to the swirling mass of changing light next to her. It pulsed once and she nodded, letting light slip into the her hood, revealing a horn, filed down a single notch. The light pulsed a few more times and Twilight Sparkle faced the light, letting it illuminate her face fully under the shroud. "Of course, there is only one more step to set our plans fully into motion."

Another huge thanks to PesudoBob for editing and cover art...No idea where I'd be without you man.

Chapter 6: The Warning

“Our own would take the siege engines around and lay suppressing fire down from this ridge.” The withered old war map crinkled as a hoof landed on it, outlining the plan for the Chancellor. “Then, the eighth legion would follow around, taking the Royal force off guard-”

“You've done well Radar, but, do you not think a decisive strike against the largest royal host at this time would be ill-advised?” Chancellor Grey Mare inquired. She was old, older than any of the earth folk had ever been, and ruler for most of those years. With her extreme age came the expected wisdom of one who had seen far too many battles, far too many soldiers falling, and far too many plans go awry. “This is a strong plan, well thought-out, well designed and cleverly laid out, but simply poorly timed young one.” A bright white smile light up her wrinkled dark brown face, framed by the parted curtain of gray hair. “You show extreme potential, more than many of our greatest generals at your age.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He bowed his head in honor, feeling a sense of growing pride.

“I am sorry to interrupt, please do go on.” She gestured to the map.

“The eight regiment would circle around the mountainside, forcing the barraged magicians out of the cave cover they have found, and force them towards the lake where our S.E.P squads - Sea-Earth Pony -” He explained away the confused look on his Chancellor's face. “...would surface, blocking their escape route, giving them the choice to fight or to chance the mountains. Either we would drive them off our land or slaughter them in the snow.” He concluded with a shudder, feeling a chilly breeze whisper into the tent. The cool air seemed to vanish as a thumping noise came from the two short horizontal lines of his follow commanders, accompanied by profuse giggling.

“It wouldn't wooork!” The words harmonized with inaudible music. A long pink head and neck shot out from the line, stretching beyond normal bounds. With a cartoonish snapping noise, the rest of the body joined the extended neck, leaving the pastel pink pony proudly presented, proffering powerful proposals. "Instead of the eighth try the...” she dragged out the last word, thinking. “First?” Her legs crossed, then bounced up and down. “Second?” The motion repeated itself, and continued to do so until she counted to the eleventh regiment. “Eleven!” The pastel jumped up and ran on the air, again in a very cartoon-like fashion. “Take the eleventh regiment instead of the eighth, oh yeah, definitely.” Her hair had sprung out in a more wild style than before, dancing for a few moments before settling. “Victory assured, without any causalities! Your plan would have been a massacre, and wouldn't have worked anyway.” She spoke with a wide smile, grinning at a joke only she must have heard.

Chancellor Grey Mare nodded. “Very well.” Turning to Radar she said “Reassign your regiments to fit this revision.” Leaving the previously proud strategist shocked.

“But, my lady-” Radar began in protest, angered at the intrusion of the pink one. “My plans are revised with every shift of the wind to accommodate any movement of the troops, every time a single unit of theirs moves I am told, every time a banner snaps in the wind, I know.” He stomped indignantly, jealousy and rage bubbling up to consume his old pride, but he fought to keep his face calm. “My plans never fail. Never.”

The chancellor regarded him with the coolness he was lacking, waiting until she was sure his retort was finished. “You are newly promoted, yes? Then you wouldn't know. This,” Chancellor Grey Mare gestured grandiosely towards the pink pony, “is Pinkimena Diane Pie, the one reason we've stayed afloat in this campaign.” Pinkie waved excitedly to the new commander, but stayed quiet. “She was born with a gift of foresight; clairvoyance, if you will. Thanks to the blessing of The Earthmender, her body reacts, warding us away from danger. An invaluable general, and ambassador.” The Chancellor directed her speech to the rest of the commanders within the field tent. “That's right, she's the one going to parley with the others.”

“Mmm-hmm!" The pink one agreed, "I was born ready to parley!” Hopping up onto her hind legs, Pinkie cheered, inviting the others around her to join in. Instead, she made only a hollow, awkward feeling as the other commanders stood, scuffing their hooves in the dirt. “Tough crowd.” She mumbled to the Chancellor before dropping back onto all fours.

“Indeed. You are all dismissed. Our next meeting will be tomorrow morning until it is spoken otherwise.” Chancellor Grey Mare waved a hoof, beckoning them to take their leave. With nine well-practiced salutes, and whatever Pinkie did, they marched out, a thudding beat, interrupted by Pinkies own off tempo stomps as she followed behind the strategist she had upstaged.

The stallion blocked her path, glowering down at her. Pinkie smiled at him, as she did every pony, but she felt that its almost magical properties seemed to have no effect on this stallion; an oddity for her. "My plan was carefully laid out, conspired since before you were born." The stallion's eyes grew narrower, and his face scrunched up.

Pinkie craned her neck around the imposing pony, watching the rest of those who had attended the gathering canter off into the rapidly falling night. "Sorry?" She offered, slightly unsettled by the older horse.

"Sorry?" The stallion mimicked her almost perfectly. New color crept at his eyes, a fell green flame flickering about the rims.

The night fell suddenly, and the gas lamps that hung outside tents hissed on. This light was lost as the stallion's change began. He exploded outward, silently. Billowing green-black smog twisted in the air, released by the explosion. The smog imploded on itself, one second forming the shape of the pony that had stood there a moment ago, then was gone, now a simple pillar of smoke. The beast growled, his eyes were now only pits of green fire that flickered as the growl changed pitch.

"You've been a thorn in my mistress' side for far too long, little one." The beast's voice was a chattering growl. "And now, you are ours." The bottom of the pillar shot out, wrapping itself around Pinkie until it encased her completely. "Sorry," He mimicked her again over her muffled cries. "But you've forced our hands."

With a final glance back at her, the disgruntled Stallion stormed off into the camp, ramming his flank into the supply cart parked out front of the Chancellor's tent. Within a second, he vanished, swallowed by the crush of soldiers, merchants and base children. The entire camp was white, if not from the fallen snow, then from the tents made of the starkly bleached leather. A few fires smoldered outside tents, more smoldered in makeshift hearths within. The muddled dot that was the sun had long since began its descent, and now sat on the horizon, teetering on the edge of the world. Pets were being called by their children, and children by their parents. Soldiers vanished into tents, choruses of greetings followed their entrances. Soon, the crush had faded, leaving only empty carts and foot prints, quickly hidden by the snow.

Pinkie moved in bounding leaps, a smile on her face and a light shining in her eyes. She made her way passed the tents, enjoying the happy noises that exuded from each. A few heads popped out as she bounced by, offering her dinner, company and, on a few rare occasions, thanks. She knew each face, every voice and name, their birthdays, children, and family. They liked her, far more than any other officer, she cared about them and had saved every one of their lives with her odd intuition.

She called it; her Pinkie sense. The ability to predict future events before they occurred, a valuable skill for a strategist. Along with her ingenious, though some may argue insane, mind she made the perfect officer and soon - if the buzzing of rumors could be believed - general, if all went well.

Once she found her way passed the welcoming families, she entered her own tent. Though the outside was the same white as all the others she had decorated the inside in the most extravagant way she could. Regular issued furniture, drab grey chairs, table, bed, and desk. The chairs had pillows of pink, adorned with flower prints and stars, the table had a cloth of similar fashion. Pink sheets and stationary were on her bed, the same paper was scattered about her desk. All of this was accented by the final piece; a floral pattered carpet, pink like the rest of the room.

Pinkie made her way to the obtusely uncolored stove, coal black, offensively standing out in the almost glowing room. In a few moments she had kindled a fire, withdrew a pot, stuck her head out of the tent, gathered snow and placed it on the stove. Letting the snow melt and boil, she gathered vegetables from the assorted cabinets, a long blade with them. Fitting the hilt into her mouth, she swept her arms across the counter, pushing carrots onto the cutting board first. She hummed, creating a tune to match the rhythm of the crunching carrots and tapping cutting board. The water started to boil, telling her it was time to begin the mixing. Tossing the begging of the sliced carrots in before setting into the others. Once the pot was full, she stirred, creating a swirl of color that matched her chipper mood. Leaving spinning with one final powerful push, she grabbed her kettle, ran out of the tent and followed repeated the process that she had done with the pot.

She sat down at her table, calmly awaiting the whistling of the kettle. Her thoughts drifted, erratically jumping from one thought to another. It had always been a struggle for her to hold onto one thought for longer than a few minutes, her frivolous mind refused to allow it. So she sat, humming her tune and tapping her hooves, her head bouncing back and forth with a smile painted across it. Old strategies shot around her head along with plans for base birthdays, battlefields mingled with festivals, war parties with engagement parties. The whistle was almost lost to the sound of long gone cheers and fresh screams. Pinkie reluctantly forced herself from the table, an uncommon lethargy now in her bones. Beside the burner the kettle sat on hung the teabags, freshly packed and sent to meet the army only a few nights before. Below them hung her mugs on a stand, little more than a shaved branch set upon a base. Emptying the kettles contents into her mug, her old excitement slowly came back, distracting her yet again, leading her to create a spillover from her pink mug. The hooves she had clasped around the mug shot back, scorched. The boiling sensation on her hooves reminded her suddenly of her forgotten meal. She spun quickly, her puff of a tail knocking the pot onto the pink carpet, sending the now mushy and wilted vegetables into a large pile as the water seeped into the stagnate earth underneath. She sighed, turning away from the mound of dinner to attend to her kettle. The mug was shattered on the ground, each one of her legs was coated in water, it’s heat being rapidly drained by the cool air that encroached into the tent. Unwilling to let the misfortune damper her mood, Pinkie grabbed a new mug, poured more carefully, drowned a teabag in the steaming water, and, in a feat that still impressed her comrades to this day, opened her mouth wide enough to engorge the entire pile of her spilt dinner.

With a full belly and a full cup, she sat back at the table, relaxed, and slurping at her tea. After only three of her loud gulps did it occur to her “My Pinkie sense,” Her eyes grew wide and she faced the wreckage. There had been no warning of what was to come before it happened. No warning of falling objects, nor the spillover of boiling water. The taste of the tea died on her tongue. Hooves shaking, she set it down, a tightening in her chest. For the first time in years she felt fear. Suddenly, her hoof jerked, sending the second mug soaring into the air. Her whole body trembled, sending her flailing to the hard ground as her chair tipped over. Her hooves danced in the air above her, forming unfamiliar patterns and shapes with their elastic ability. Then something new to her clairvoyance, an overpowering foreboding.

“General Pie, ma’am.” A voice came from the flaps at the front of her tent. She tilted her head to face the entrance, meeting the gaze of a young mare. She looked to be just older than a foal, her face still chubby with baby fat, making her blushed red cheeks stand out more on her blue body. As most mares in service, her purple hair was tied back in a bun. “The Chancellor wishes to see you.” The mare stated, clearly accustomed to Pinkie’s stranger behavior, more likely than not having grown up surrounded by the stories of the prodigy. “Immediately if possible, ma’am.” The calm solider cast her gaze about the tattered room, clearly unimpressed. “Though she may understand if you run a bit tardy.” The blue face vanished outside, letting the fabric slump back into place.

Pinkie lay for a few more moments, watching the empty air, the foreboding still creeping slowly down her spine, seeping off through her nerves. She stood on nervous hooves, her stomach churning with unaccustomed worry. Leaving her mess, she stepped back into the night air, catching sight of a purple tale slipping just out of sight, into a massive bank of tents to her south. Not wanting any prying eyes supply for rumor, she forced a smile to her face and bounced along cheerily, following the path back towards the tent the strategists had met in not an hour ago. Before she was too far along however, she left the path and galloped onto one of the many branches within the camp. The streets were even more empty now than they were before, and the tents that had once been alight with jovial laughter and banter were silent as some slept and others lay passed out from a night of drinking.

It stayed this silent for the majority of her trip, but as she trotted along, a new sound came as a murmur and gradually growing over time as she drew nearer to it’s source. The almost roaring tent lay near to the end of her trip, the tallest and widest by far. Within were hundreds of soldiers, their heads bowed in reverence and humility before the large, pure white stone before them. Rising from the earth was a statue, planted deep into the hard soil. Miraculously, a few budding flowers sprouted from the ground, only to be plucked and swept away by the keepers.

“They will creep up the sides of The Earthmender.” They would say as the sprouts were torn by the roots. “That would be a disgrace.” Having never had the time for piety, Pinkie almost walked passed, completely ignoring the congregation. Something gave her pause, however, and she glanced into the chaplain’s tent, her eyes drawn to the eyes of the Goddess, seemingly able to follow her own. She bit her cheek, and nervously muttered what she felt was a prayer.

“Earthmender.” She began softly. “This is Pinkie Pie. You may not know me. Or you may, I don’t know what we’ve decided you can do. But if you hear this, I need your help.” She quickly explained her situation to the statue, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. “And, uh, I guess that’s it.” She finished, looking into the vacant eyes of stone. She waited a moment. Two. Three. Then the foolish feeling set in, luckily her blush was invisible on her pink face. turning on her heels, she took more leaping bounds away from the tent, but the earth trembling murmur followed her the entire way.

Drawing nearer to the middle of the camp, Pinkie witnessed the security steadily increase with every leap. Fully armored ponies, standing so still, Pinkie was sure that they had frozen solid. She noted that there seemed to be more guards than usual, an unprecedented amount of mares and stallions watching over their chancellor. Coupled with her sense’s new form, Pinkie began to lose her facade of normality, if such a word could be used on her.

Her bubbly jumps turned into a sprint until she was barreling passed the honor guard, sending the thick falling snow up in large clumps. Her optimistic mind began to weaken as worst cases made themselves known. Battling them off was exhausting Pinkie faster than her unending sprint as the chancellor’s tent seemed to get further away with every step.

She stumbled into the tent, much to her own chagrin as the dozen guards within snapped to attention, surrounding her with forceful intent. “At ease. She is welcome here.” The voice of Grey Mare removed most of her fears, but brought about more questions than the single answer could provide closure to. “Pinkie, here.” The elder snapped, clearly frustrated.

“Ma’am.” Pinkie was at her side in an instant, aware that her cavalier attitude she wore around the mare would not be as appreciated at this time. “You summoned me.”

“We have a problem.” The old mare looked exhausted, though the night was still quite young. “A tremendous problem. I’m coming with you to the moot. The Warlord and King will be in attendance too.” Grey mare grated her teeth, her anger palpable in the air. Pinkie could feel the rage bubbling over. “This war was almost over. We almost had peace!” The chancellor shouted, though her face remained its normally tranquil state. Raising a hoof to press against her eyes, Grey Mare wiped the look away, her jaw was now tight and her eyes lit by a new rage.

“What are you talking about?” Pinkie dropped the uncomfortable formality, her own curiosity and concern for her chancellor overpowering duty. “What happened?”

“The Skychasers found a reason to extend this pointless war.” Pinkie had heard of the Skychasers before: A pair of twins in the pegasus military, infamous for their skills in combat. The two were rumored to share a brain; they moved like liquid together, making them twice as deadly as they were apart. What they were truly known for, though were their noses for information. One couldn’t call what they did torture. It was far more brutal. They could break a pony in less than ten minutes. That was without trying. They had a sixth sense, able to pick out who knew what, and could smell fear at the very mention of a word.

“What could they have possibly-”

“One of your ilk.” A deep voice commanded her attention now as a shadowy stallion stepped from the folds of the tent walls. Pinkie leapt at the sight of the shadow, but relaxed when she saw the eyes didn’t glow in the same fell way. The stallion was flanked by another pony, slightly shorter and the same color. They each bore marks boasting images of their tools. Nails was the stallion, Screws the mare. “She was keeping a whole stable fulla soldiers. We coulda killed her there, but we figured that-”

“-since she was 'arboring every different breed, t’others needed ta be made aware.” Screws finished her brother’s sentence - as if they shared a brain.The two smiled in unison, bearing their filed teeth.

“I forgot the thank the mud pony, though.”

“What for, Nails?”

“Well sis, without her... we’d be out of a job.”

Thanks again to PesudoBob, as per usual, be nowhere without ya man. And I hope you all enjoy this, was a b***h to produce