Prologue: How Much We Left Behind
"Twilight, we can't just leave, we have to stay, what about the Princess."
"What about her? After all that has happened, how could I feel right standing by her side?"
I lean with all my weight on a ragged table, beaten and tired by the continuing frenzy of destroy, build, rinse repeat. The air is heavy with dust and jagged piles of cracked brick and mortar are scattered along the edges of the bar. I gaze out an opening in the wall of the bar an into the street to see a similar sight. Clacking hoofs on the wooden floor pull my attention.
"You like red right?" my old friend asks as he approaches, bottle in hoof. He clothes are stained with red and brown, holes and tears scattered about the edges.
"Huh, I was wondering if you had forgotten." I reply with a half grin.
"Well, we spent plenty of time learning which was your drink didn't we?" He sits the bottle down on the table and picks two mostly intact glasses up off the ground. He pops open the cork and pours a little into each glass, carefully sitting the bottle back down, the label facing me. L'eau de la Lune, fitting name I suppose, the letters partially covered by two dark read stains.
"That we did, all those late nights out, we'd paint the town red every night right until that recruiter came around."
"Yeah, and then a week later everything went to shit." He takes a drink from his glass, tipping it back and swallowing hard. I look down at my glass. There is a chip missing in the lip and the base has a chunk missing from it. As I gaze into the lightly swaying deep red liquid my stomach turns a little and I leave my glass sitting.
"So how have you been in the Daisies?" He inquires with a smirk.
"You give the Peace Corps too little credit. We have to pick up all your messes. Do you even try to be subtle in the slightest?" I jab back.
"You know as well as I the sol's won't give ground easily. The are like a bad weed." He points his glass at me.
"Yeah yeah, but you don't have to level every building." I retort.
"Why did you sign on with the Daises any how? Why did you leave me at the front to have all the fun by myself?" He asks abruptly.
"You know as well as I, I can't stand the sight of blood." I reply, a tad snippy.
"Then why did you sign up at all?" He asked a bit pointedly.
"To do my part just like you!" I say getting angry. There is a pause as he stays quiet for a while. Then he starts chuckling
"You always had a low boiling point." He laughs.
"Yeah yeah, and you never could hold your drink." I smile back, quickly turning my mood around. I raise the drink to my mouth and take a slow sip. The pungent aroma and the strong flavor flood my senses for a moment, taking me away from this place and back to my wild youth in my little town. It still lies intact in the hills beyond Fillydelphia, or at least I hope. We used to drink the cheap stuff, but every now and then we would get a fancy bottle. On those occasions it could be this or that, but every now and then it would be L'eau de la Lune, Waters of the Moon. Never thought I would be here, sitting in a building ponies died in just hours ago. How must they have felt... What were their last thoughts...?
"Still having problems with the purists?" My still chuckling friend asks.
"Yeah, they are always ready to jump on my slightest mistake." I lift my glass and take a long sip of the sweet liquid, trying to drown my problems in it.
"Don't pay them any mind, you have been here fighting the good fight just the same as all the rest of them."
"Yeah, well my people treated them miserably for what must seem like eternity." I reply, voice dripping with self loathing for my race.
"They aren't your people, you grew up with me in a village in the middle of nowhere. You are an Earth pony in my eyes." He says trying to lift my spirits.
"Thanks buddy, you always know how to bring me back up." I say forcing a smile. How could you ever know what it is like to have your men always trying to see you fall and hoping an Earth pony could replace you. Its not like how things used to be... peace between the races is only hold together by a thread. Some days I am amazed the rebellion has lasted this long with so much racism in the ranks. Luna help us if the Earth ponies break away.
A large deep red earth pony canters up to the opening in the wall of the bar, his features obscured as the sun silhouettes him.
"Commander, you are needed at the front." He calls in a deep gravelly voice before turning and trotting out of sight.
"Well it was nice getting to talk for a change, sorry it has to be cut short old friend, but the battlefield is calling." My childhood friend sits down his glass and rises from his seat.
"Good bye pal." I say to him with some sadness.
"Catcha later." He replies with a confident grin. He continues on his way, walking a bit before transitioning into a trot. He heads towards the hole in the wall and then disappears out of sight as he goes through and turns to follow where the other pony had come. I take a deep breath and look around me. Piles of rubble litter the ruined bar. A bottle with a blood stained label sits before me on a table that had been broken halfway down the middle leaving a jagged, splintered side.
"What is the cost?"
