The Life and Times of a West Hoof Cadet

The school closed in the aftermath of the battle. It was a good move, since the clean-up would be somewhat distracting. Mom was understanding and took it easy on us. She let us know that she was there if we needed her and, then, left us alone. She knew we would come to her when we were ready.

Ty went home. He wanted to be with his family and they wanted to be with him. They showered him with love and affection, ecstatic that their only child had survived without any serious injuries.

Considering she didn't have a home to go back to, even if she wanted to, Nimbus stayed on the Compound with us. I couldn't blame her. Having a nearly deadly sibling rivalry that too little had been done about was not conducive to a healthy parent-child relationship.

On that note, her family was in a whole lot of hot water. The deaths of dozens of cadets was not something that could be ignored in the hopes that it would go away. Those cadets had families, and those families had lawyers. Not to mention, the crown had gotten involved and, when Celestia's own masters of litigation got involved, you didn't say “no”. Their savings were going to be depleted and everything they owned was going to be taken as compensation. Not only that, but they were all looking at lengthy prison sentences for a list of charges that was ever-growing.

A representative of the Princess had shown up at the door and presented Mom with a summons to court. Tornado, Nimbus, and I were going to be witnesses for the crown. He rattled off a list of charges that we were expected to speak on. I didn't understand most of them, but it was clear that all we would have to do is tell the truth about what happened.

Nimbus had spent the first few days after the attack alternating between anger and depression before simply going quiet. She acknowledged greetings and made half-hearted small talk, but nothing more than that. She didn't hide in her room, but wasn't her usual outgoing self.

She spent a lot of time with Tornado, usually just talking quietly. They would wander off someplace to be alone. Despite my nagging, he would not tell me what they had talked about.

If I wanted to know what was going on between Nimbus' ears, I needed to get her alone. Luckily, she had been a little more compliant since the attack.

I caught her milling about the training grounds and wrapped a wing around her shoulders. “Can I have a word?”

She offered only token resistance as I guided her back to the house and into my bedroom, where I knew we would have a little privacy.

Sitting across from her, I took in her general demeanor. Gone was the brash and bold pegasus that I had met earlier in the year. Before me sat a broken pony. Her back was bowed and her ears down as she looked everywhere but at me.

I was gentle on her. “How have you been?”

She shrugged, but offered no real answer.

“I noticed you've been talking with Tornado a lot. Anything bad about me?”

She let out a weak chuckle, but said nothing.

“Nimbus, how are you doing with all of this? Dealing with everything that happened?”

“I don't know. I never really figured it would go as far as it did. Even now, I just want to believe that Skyy fell in with a bad crowd. It all seems surreal. Ponies who were alive last week are in the ground today. They should be alive.” She said, her voice taking an edge.

Very good, Nimbus. I said to myself. Keep going.

“During the battle, I saw this one mare who had been killed. She had a crossbow for a cutie mark. She looked so familiar, but I didn't know her name. I had seen her before, even had a few classes with her. We worked together on a project one time, but I hadn't bothered to remember her name.”

She turned to me, her eyes pleading. “Did you know her name, Wind?”

I shook my head. “No. I don't think I ever met her.”

She let out a soft sob and laid down. “Nopony knew her name.”

“Now, don't say that. I'm sure somepony knew her.”

“Tornado didn't know her.”

“That's not fair.” I retorted. “My brother wouldn't know his plot from a hole in the ground.”

She snorted.

“Why are you blaming yourself for this?”

She shrugged again. “I dunno. Maybe because it was my fault?”

“So, you led the Lunars against the school?”

“No, but-”

“Then you planned the attack and provided them with intel?”

“Of course not, but-”

“Ah, then you came up with the idea in the first place?”

“No.”

I cocked my head. “Then I fail to see how this is your fault.”

“If I hadn't attended West Hoof... If I had left when I found out she was after me.”

“If you had gone to Duke Polaris, nopony would have known what to do in the event of an attack. You would have been killed when that hitpony came after you, or, if you had gotten away, many more innocent ponies would have died, including you. If you had left, not only would you have abandoned your family, a major faux-pas in this clan, ponies still would have died when the Lunars attacked and you would still feel guilty that you hadn't done anything when you could have helped. Either way, you'd be dead or in the same position you are right now. Have I missed anything?”

She shook her head and stood. “Why did I get to survive? I'm nopony, but a drunken, stupid, whorse.”

“No!” I barked, startling her. “Nimbus Gust, if those words pass through your muzzle one more time, you will take the rest of your meals through a straw. Am I clear?”

She nodded

“I don't need to tell you what you are. You know your worth. You are no less deserving of life because you happened to be related to Skyy. You did what you could to protect who you could and that is beyond commendable. There was no way you could have foreseen what would occur. Every reasonable plan we had to prevent something like this was implemented. Ponies with far more experience in these things than us had their minds on it and even they couldn't foresee what would happen. If they couldn't, how could you?”

“Because I knew what she was capable of.”

“And you shared that with us and we did everything reasonable to prevent what occurred. Don't you see, Nimbus? You did everything and anything you could to help.”

She hung her head. “Then why do I feel so guilty?”

I pulled her close into an embrace. “This is natural, part of the grieving process, but you have nothing to feel guilty about. You'll see it in time.”

x----x

A week after the battle, a memorial service was held on campus. The outer walls were lined with flowers, cards, and other small tokens of affection left by those who mourned. Canterlot was one of the safest cities in Equestria. The fact that a school had been attacked and that so many innocent lives had been lost was mind-boggling and touched everypony deeply.

The Equestrian flag hung at half staff, as it had been since the day after the attack and would be for some time yet. One day for every innocent life lost. Soaked with the frigid drizzle that fell, it seemed to reflect the collective mood of the ceremony as it hung limply.

A couple of Lunars showed up to try and convince everypony that the group that had attacked the school was nothing more than a splinter cell of extremists that was not affiliated in any way with the main body. However, ponies refused to listen. Cadets and Instructors alike began to protest their words. When the imbeciles still didn't leave, the crowd began to turn violent. Obscenities were hurled, along with stones and other debris, until the Guard had to intercede and escort the Lunars away.

Near where the infirmary stood, at the head of the crowd and behind a small stage, a wall had been constructed. Engraved on its bricks were the names and cutie marks of the ponies who had been killed. I wandered along it, looking for one in particular. Towards the end I had spotted it. A cutie mark of a crossbow and, next to it, a name.

SURE SHOT.

I reached up and touched the brick, hoping to feel some kind of connection to the mare that Nimbus couldn't remember the name of. What kind of pony was she? Was she disposed to joy or melancholy? Did she work hard or was she a party-obsessed slacker? What kind of family did she come from?

“Did you know her?”

Startled, I turned to find an older mare standing behind me. I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No.”

She came forward and studied the brick. “There's something fundamentally wrong with a parent burying their child. She was supposed to bury me.”

I ducked my head in deference to Sure Shot's mother. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“I thought she would be safe. What place could be safer than a military school?”

“The school did everything they could.”

She nodded. “I know. Logically, I know that. Emotionally, as a mother, I can see a thousand things they could have done better. At the same time, I want to believe she's not gone. I keep expecting her to come up beside me and make some kind of smart-flanked remark.”

I sat down. “Tell me about her...if you don't mind.”

With a sad smile, she began. “She was always such a sweet girl, so smart. She could remember everything and I mean everything. And she was always so curious. I remember, when she was still very young, she asked me what I had meant when I mentioned, to a friend, that her daddy put his flesh rocket in my hot pocket.”

A blush to rival hers rose in my cheeks and I couldn't help but giggle.

“The day she gained her cutie mark, her daddy had been showing her how to use his crossbow. He always said he perferred to teach her about it, rather than let her find it on her own and there be an accident. Of course, I was completely against it.

“I came back from the market to find her and him in the backyard with a target set up. A thousand scenarios, each worse than the last, ran through my mind. Well, I immediately ran out there to stop them. When I yelled his name, she started and the weapon fired. She wasn't even aiming, but she struck a bull's-eye.” She returned her attention to the brick and pressed her forehead to it. “And now, she's gone.”

I shook my head. “No, she isn't.”

She turned to me with a strange look.

“You remembered her, and, since you've told me about her, I know her now. So long as you keep doing that, she'll keep living.”

She nodded sadly before turning back to the wall and placing a gentle kiss to the brick engraved with her daughter's name. “Good-bye, baby. Momma loves you so much.”

I left her to her privacy and returned to the crowd. Nimbus sat with my brother, mother and Typhoon. Gently, I pulled her aside and looked straight into her eyes.

“Her name was Sure Shot. She had a mother who absolutely adored her and a father who wanted to show her the world. She was smart and hard-working and was embarassingly curious.”

She gave me a curious look before her eyes softened. For the first time in days, she genuinely smiled. “Thank you.”