When the Circus Came to Town

The music stopped abruptly and the tubular creature lowered itself to the ground and looked at me, at eye level. I stared into it's eyes, frozen in terror. A sensation pierced through my immobility, a feeling that I hadn't experienced from anypony but one. Lily hugged me, or I thought it was lily by her voice and touch, I saw a bronze mask and an acrobatics suit. A hoof came up and grabbed the mask, pulling it off her face. It was Lily, wearing the mask that I saw hanging from her wall so long ago. She turned to the carraige pulled by the creatures and shouted to the ponies riding it.

"He's with me!"

The music started again, it's melody echoing through me, soothing my nerves.
The mares on the carraige giggled a little and started singing in a cute little voice in unison "Lily and... what's his name?" they pointed at me.

"None of your business" replied Lily.

They gave a playful little hrumph in response and crossed thier arms.
"Don't you have something else to be doi-"

"LOOK OUT!" cried the mares, pointing one hoof and bringing the other to cover their mouths.

I looked at where they pointed and saw my father charging at Lily and I, pitchfork held in his mouth. He lunged at Lily. I quickly grabbed her and jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding his powerful stab with the pitchfork.

"Use this!" said the mares in the carraige, throwing down a sword while laughing hysterically.
I took it up in my mouth and turned, shaking, to my father, who was pulling his pitchfork out of the ground.

"YOU LITTLE BASTARD! BECAUSE OF YOU THESE... THESE... THINGS ARE HERE!"

I remained silent, like so many times before when he yelled at me.

He charged at me again, pitchfork in mouth. I cowered in fear, pointing the sword at him. The farm tool narrowly missed my head as I curled up in fear, and he tackled me to the ground.

The sword flew from my mouth and skittered away. He brought the pitchfork up above my head, about to thrust it into my eyes.

"Now I won't even have to feed your useless-"

His look of rage turned to surprise. He dropped the pitchfork to the ground next to my head, the handle coming down and hitting me in the muzzle. The stallion towering over me fell to my left, a sword in his side. Again I was frozen in terror, only to be snapped out of it once more by her voice.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded.
"Good." said Lily.

I smelled the scent of rotted flesh and fresh blood. I looked around and saw dead ponies walking, I saw more in acrobatics suits and bronze masks, and even more with maces and hoods. The town was overrun in a matter of moments, they didn't stand a chance. The small band of ponies slaughtered the even smaller militia in a matter of minutes, and those who surrendered were tied up and guarded by some of the stallions with maces. It all happened so fast that I didn't have time to think of what was happening. Blood flowed down the path like water, the bodies of the militia piled up in the street.

I heard a gasping noise to my right. I stood up and looked at where it came from. My father was laying there, in the dirt of the path, gasping for air that wouldn't come because of the sword in his side and the blood in his lungs.

"What do you want to do with him?" inquired Lily.
"What?"
"You deserve the final say in what happens to him, after all you're the one that deserves revenge."

I looked back at the stallion in the dirt, the life slowly draining from his eyes. I grasped the sword with a hoof, slowly sliding it out of his body as he grimaced and howled in pain. I buried it in him again, this time in his side. And again I drew the sword and plunged it into him. And again, and again, over and over until my legs were tired. Lily looked on with a smile the whole time. Another stab for every time he ridiculed me, another for every time he hit me, and another because I wanted to see him bleed more.

No life remained in him. There he lay, in a pool of crimson victory.

I smiled, filled with joy at the fact that I finally held his fate in my hooves, and not the other way around.
A little time passed filled with silence between her and I as I stared at the corpse, and she broke it, as she did before.

"What's your name."

I turned my head inquisitively. Could she have forgotten my name?
"You heard me, what's your name?"
"Don't you remember?"
"You never told me."
"Yes I did, Squir-"
"That's not your name."
"What do you mean?"
"That's what you were called by your mother, not your name."

Mother I remembered her just then, wondering what was to come to her. But I didn't care what it could have been, I owed her no kindness, in fact I owed her pain. She was the one who ridiculed me, gave me that name, never wanted to be seen with me in public.

I snapped back to the conversation.
"So what is a name?" I asked
"A name is who you are, what you want to be. Think really deeply. Who are you? What is your name?"

So I sat there and thought. Who am I? Was I part of the Ironhoof family? Was I what my mother called me? So many things ran through my head, who was I?

I didn't know.