A round unvarnished tale of...

Chapters

Betrayal
Duty
Freedom
Loss
Friendship
Victory

Betrayal

Only a faint scratching permeated the silent stillness of the Canterlot Palace Library. Its source: a quill, which had been working erratically for well over an hour, dancing back and forth across a role of parchment. A faint purple light illuminated the table on which it toiled, which had gradually become more battleground than writing desk. The surface was littered with empty ink pots, lying on their sides like toppled buildings, and small piles of ash, which were the incinerated remains of unsatisfactory scrolls. In amongst this devastation lay the snapped corpses of its brethren, who had either been broken by their labours or fallen victim to the frustration of their master. The final quill, the last survivor of its unit, was granted a brief reprieve and levitated from the scribbled parchment, wrapped in a purple aura. Its master hesitated, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. After a small eternity hovering above the page, the quill again descended to conclude its work. Now however it moved far more slowly than it had previously, as if it was not wholly confident in what it was doing.

Forever your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle

With this final inscription the purple unicorn, currently the library’s sole inhabitant, laid her quill to one side. As she deactivated her magic, Twilight found herself at once covered in pitch blackness. The night had snuck up and surrounded her as she wrestled with her thoughts, and now all the room was shadow. She did not bother to coax new light from her horn, but rather moved by memory to a nearby window, feeling the recognisable softness of rugs beneath her hooves and seeing the familiar shelves she passed in her mind’s eye. Her muzzle brushed against the heavy drapes shielding the panes and she drew them back, allowing the light of the moon to pierce the space. She bathed for a moment in the comforting glow, glancing upwards and receiving the reassuring looks of the stars as they watched her from on high. In the pattern of silver pinpricks painted across the black seas of the heavens she could see her love’s guiding hoof and from this she drew some strength. Next to the moon lay a small purple star, shining slightly brighter than the others in Luna’s tapestry, which reminded her of happier times in Canterlot.1

Twilight turned and returned to the desk. Seeing the final words she had written she felt the slight sting of tears at the corners of her vision. The purple unicorn did not want to choose between them, but she had no choice and would not abandon her Princess of the Night. Celestia had been her mentor and her guiding light since she had been a filly, but more than that the princess, in the common absence of her parents, had always been a motherly figure. To turn her back on the Sun was to turn her back on family and the vast majority of her life up until this point. In spite of this the bonds between her and Luna were forged of purest adamantine affections, which would not be broken even if all of Equestria had sought to tear them apart. She began to roll up the parchment, thinking on the apologies and explanations which made up its contents. These reflections brought a fresh threat of tears to her eyes, which this time succeeded in breaking forth as full blown streams down her face. This forced her to pause, almost collapsing entirely to weep into her forehooves. Again her mind went to Luna. She thought of her love’s embrace: the feeling of being surrounded by her wings, the warm softness of her coat and the sound of her heart beat as she nestled against her chest. Together they curled around one another, their backs to the world. Now once again strengthened, she used her magic to heat up a wax stick, letting its thick molten droplets fall onto the parchment. Finally she brought a stamp down onto the red coagulating fluid, sealing the scroll’s contents. She now made her way out of the library and into the palace, knowing that she would follow Luna even into the depths of Tartarus and beyond.

In contrast to the relative gloom of the library, the rest of the palace, burned with the yellow light thrown out by innumerable torches. The marble floors reflected the dancing brightness of the flames, excising shadows from the depths of every alcove and the height of every vaulted ceiling. Twilight moved quickly from chamber to chamber, trying in vain to stifle the clacking of her hooves which seemed to be amplified by the cold night air. In spite of her efforts at concealment she was still forced to pass by the imposing figures of the royal guard, but they paid her no heed. They saw only their princess’ favoured pupil and this made her heart weigh a little heavier in her chest. She passed a small antechamber, containing a round table encompassed by chairs, and was assaulted by memories of ten days previous. She was sat facing Rainbow Dash in Golden Oak Library, with Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie and Rarity completing a circle around the building’s main table.

‘What do you all think of this?’ Rainbow said, pushing a leaflet into the centre of the table. The paper depicted a serious picture of Princess Luna, along with the words ‘Resist’ and ‘Join the New Lunar Republic’. At the time Twilight had thought Luna’s severe expression kind of cute. ‘I found this in the market,’ Rainbow continued, ‘and I’ve heard some of the weirder ponies around town going on about how Luna’s the “rightful ruler” and other stuff like she’s gonna take over Equestria.’

‘Such drivel!’ Rarity pouted in agreement. ‘It’s just a bunch of uncouth outcasts looking spoil things for the rest of us, just because they can’t fit in.’

This was followed by hush. Nopony else jumped in to concur the sentiments. Applejack and Fluttershy just looked down at their hooves, whilst even Pinkie Pie remained quiet and uncomfortably fidgeted. After several stretched moments Twilight chose to break the silence, saying: ‘we don’t know Luna’s side of this.’

‘What’d mean by that?’ Rainbow shot at her.

‘Well… just that Luna’s Celestia’s sister, so if she’s taking issue with her rule there must be good reasons.’

‘How can you say that?’ came another melodramatic volley from Rarity, ‘Celestia’s our Princess.’

‘So is Luna’ Twilight retorted.

‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you weren’t in bed with her!’ Rainbow returned, her voice beginning to gain an undercurrent of real anger, whose suddenness surprised all those present.

Applejack then entered the fray: ‘now sugar-cube Twi has a point.’

‘Don’t tell me you support this crap too!’ Rainbow said, rounding on the farmer.

‘No of course not,’ Applejack defended herself, ‘but Twi hasn’t said she supports this “New Lunar Republic” either and I don’t reckon that her little… “thing” with Luna is really gonna affect her opinions on important stuff like this.’

They all then looked expectantly at Twilight for an answer. But an answer was not forthcoming and she just looked straight back at them, knowing that her silence spoke volumes. Applejack’s unsympathetic comment, reducing all her feelings for Luna into a ‘little thing’, stung her deeply. Were all the group’s happy comments about the two of them being together just lies? What did they really think about their relationship? She felt trapped between betraying her best friends and betraying Luna, along with all the love she felt for her.

‘Bucking hell, you really are with the traitors aren’t you!’ Rainbow levelled the accusation with a glare, choosing not to wait for what would be an unnecessary answer anyway.

‘How can you support such rebellious nonsense,’ came Rarity’s voice, again in support of the blue pegasus, ‘particularly after all Celestia’s done for you?’

At this point Pinkie finally boiled over, her voice bursting loudly forth: ‘Shut up! Why the hay shouldn’t Twilight support Luna? They make each other happy and that’s all that really matters. Besides Dashie those “weird” ponies have a point.’ Pinkie had then gone on a long and only half intelligible rant about how Celestia was a ‘tyrant’, drawing attention to the facts that she had been sole ruler since anypony could remember, had chosen to banish her own sister to the moon rather than share power and had then created a yearly event celebrating this exile. Following this Pinkie collapsed back into her seat, gulping down air which she was desperately lacking.

As Pinkie had spoken her piece the look of anger written across Rainbow’s face had intensified into a barely repressed rage, which burned at the back of her eyes. Rarity, wearing are far more muted frown, then asked Fluttershy: ‘what about you dear, where do you stand in all this?’

‘Erm… well I…’ the pink-maned pegasus began slowly, ‘I… I don’t agree with either of you.’ They were all rather taken aback by this independent stance on the part of the timid mare. Fluttershy then continued: ‘it’s true that Celestia has been sole ruler for a long time, but she hasn’t done a bad job on the whole and why can’t she and Luna just get along anyway?’

‘Well for starters Luna is poisoned by ambition dear,’ Rarity sighed, ‘once a usurper, always a usurper.’

‘No, Shy’s right’ came the voice of Applejack again. ‘What’s important in Equestria is harmony, so we need both the princesses to…’

‘No we don’t!’ Rainbow scoffed, butting in. ‘Celestia raised and lowered both the sun and the moon for a thousand years. What do we have Luna to thank for? Oh yeah, now I remember: several attempted coups, of which this is just another example. Who would miss her?’

‘Shut the buck up!’ Twilight found herself screaming, finally pushed over the edge.

Silence then once again briefly descended, as all parties stared each other down. Rainbow and Rarity had been the first to leave, the pegasus muttering: ‘nothing but bucking traitors and fillyfoolers’ as she slammed the door. The other three had also gradually left the library as well, Fluttershy huddling close to Applejack as they stepped into the early evening outside, leaving Twilight alone.

She had been called back to Canterlot by Celestia the next day. Although nothing had been said on the subject an obvious shadow hung over the capital. Everywhere she looked there seemed to be an underlying tension. Luna had disappeared from the palace, her whereabouts unknown, leading Twilight to face a myriad of questions by royal advisors, members of the guard and even the Sun Princess herself. She had told them little. Although she was well aware of Luna’s feelings, she knew nothing of the any solid details or plans. Following this ordeal she had been ordered not to leave the city and to report any attempts by the Princess of the Night to contact her. As the days of her detention had passed the air of uncertainty had intensified. Increasing numbers of guards were seen patrolling the city’s streets, meanwhile the palace’s training grounds grew into a frantic mess of daily activity as masses of new conscripts were sworn in and began training, swelling the royal army’s ranks.

By now Twilight had reached the stairs of Celestia’s tower, but she remained locked in her thoughts of the past as she began her ascent. Days of virtual incarceration in the palace had passed by slowly, with no word from Luna. Previously whenever the two were apart the Lunar Princess would visit her in her dreams, but this time there had been nothing. That is until the night previous, when she had been greeted in the loneliness of her sleep by the reassuring sound of her love’s voice. Luna still had not been able to fully quieten the imperiousness of her accent, but Twilight found it comforting all the same. The two of them materialised on the grey expanse of the Moon’s surface and immediately embraced. ‘I’m so sorry…’ the dark alicorn began, before being silenced as their hug became a passionate kiss. When they had reluctantly chosen to separate they began to solemnly talk, striding in sync beside one another through the dust.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Luna repeated, ‘for all that I’ve put you through and all that may yet come.’

‘So I assume everypony’s suspicions are true?’ questioned Twilight, glancing to her side and seeing the cares and worries written across the princess’ face. Luna just nodded in response. ‘But why?’ she continued, the faintest hint of anger creeping into her voice.

If Luna noticed this undertone she certainly did not rise to it, but instead continued in her regretful tone: ‘There is a vast sickness in Equestria Twilight. Each night I watch over the dreams of the entire kingdom and increasingly what I see is a deep sadness stalking its edges. At the borders of every community our subjects dwell in loneliness, filled with regrets and crushing emptiness. These ponies lie beyond my sister’s gaze, living in darkness both day and night, and without change they will remain so. Tia only focuses upon mass order and harmony, refusing to see those left as outcasts. I want to alter this; I want to make a difference. I’ve begged her to see beyond her own light, but to no avail. Equally all she has seemed to hear in my pleas has been ambition and sedition, thinking I sought to de-stabilise the realm for my own ends. This is not her fault and I do not blame her. She has cared for Equestria for a long time; twice guarding against the threat I alone posed, not to mention the many others who have sought its ruination. I did not wish to stand against her, but whilst the absolute rule of the Sun continues all will continue to be either blinded or burnt by its bright illusions, which permit neither fault nor difference.’ At this point Luna paused, in both her words and steps, turning to face the unicorn beside her. ‘Do you understand Twilight?’ The words seemed to pain the alicorn saying them, coming out in a small strangled tone, as if even the concept of forcing this saddening decision on her marefriend cut her deeply. ‘I ask you this because for all the good I hope to achieve, it would mean nothing if in doing so I lose you.’

Twilight’s hooves reached the tower’s final steps and before her was the door to Celestia’s private chambers, along with a quartet of the royal bodyguard. They looked at her questioningly. ‘A letter for the princess’ she simply replied in answer, receiving nods from the guards who were well accustomed with her delivering reports of her research to her mentor at strange times. The commanding soldier accepted the scroll, placing it at the top of a stack of court papers on a table beside the door. He nodded again and gave a grin, as if to reassure her that the message would be Celestia’s priority tomorrow. Twilight just about managed to return the smile and turned back towards the stairs. She had delivered her final letter.

On the moon the two mares had just stood; grey dust swirling lightly around their hooves, one waiting for the other’s answer. Quiet descended as Twilight hesitated, her mind lying in turmoil: caught between an inner voice screaming at her to say ‘yes’ and another reminding her of who that meant turning away from. Luna’s face had taken on an entirely alien expression which she could not immediately identify, but after a second she recognised that the alicorn’s blue eyes were pleading with her. A painful tightness bit into Twilight’s chest as she realised Luna was begging her to understand, whilst the silence grew to become a crescendo and each moment of it stretched, seeming as infinite as the blackness of surrounding space. She could bear it no longer. ‘Yes Luna, I understand’ Twilight said simply, stepping forward into her princess’ embrace. As their lips met for a second time the bright lights of the stars burst forth all around them and a brighter glow erupted from the moon’s surface under their hooves. This brightness grew still further as they continued to kiss, engulfing everything in a pure silver light.

Her final task completed, Twilight made her way quickly out of the palace. Rather than the well-guarded front gate, she opened then slipped through a ground floor window and into the training grounds. This deserted sandy space stretched from the central keep to the outer curtain wall. Being almost entirely unguarded these parade grounds were the perfect place from which to teleport into Canterlot unseen. With a dim purple flash her horn transported her from her prison and she reappeared in a small alley filled with curio shops. The buildings either side of the street loomed high, their windows filled with innumerable unknown items, meaning that little of the night sky’s light reached the ground. Out of the shadows stepped a pair of ponies. One, a grey pegasus mare, she recognised from Ponyville as Ditzy Doo, who gave her a small smile as she moved into the half-light. The second wore an obscuring dark blue hooded cloak. When this was drawn back a pair of red eyes set in a grey and black striped head, which was topped by a similarly two-toned spikey mane, were revealed. The act of removing the hood displayed a set of serrated horseshoes on the pony’s forehooves. These brutal instruments had the opposite effect of Ditzy’s familiar little smile; making her uneasy at the thought of the violent purposes such jagged weapons were made for. Finally his voice revealed that he was a stallion, although his appearance did not make it immediately apparent.

‘Twilight Sparkle?’ the striped stallion asked. Twilight just nodded in response, not entirely sure of this unknown pony. There was a startling lack of feeling in either his voice or features, as if he were made of the same blank stones as the palace walls. ‘Good’ he continued, ‘Luna sent us to escort you. I think you already know Ditzy?’ Twilight again nodded, this time giving the light grey pegasus a smile as she did so, which was amiably returned. ‘Oh and erm… Luna sends her love’ he stammered, blushing slightly as he stumbled over this last part of the message. This was the first semblance of emotion she had seen to break through the fortifications of his face. He now turned to Ditzy and retrieved a second dark blue cloak from one of the saddlebags she was wearing. ‘Also this is for you’ he said simply, reaching out and extending the cloth to Twilight. As he passed the clothing to her, his face came more into the light, giving a better view of his eyes. Although they were crimson, therefore standing out against his dark aspect, at first glance they somehow seemed to be lacking in colour. Looking beyond this however, somewhere right at the back of his irises, she noticed a faint light. It was almost indistinguishable in the sea of red and the blackness of his pupils, but it was there, buried and yet still emitting a tiny trace of warmth. Realising she was staring at him she looked away, donned the cloak and then they both pulled their hoods up. ‘Let’s go’ he concluded and the three of them set forth.

They stepped from the shaded alley, the two grey ponies either side of Twilight, and into the streets of Canterlot, which in contrast were drenched in moonlight. The trio moved quickly, ducking every so often into alcoves or doorways when they met a patrol. Fortunately however there were remarkably few guards on the route they were taking. Twilight noticed the stallion was almost entirely focused on their surroundings, so took the opportunity to talk to Ditzy. ‘How’re you doing?’ she whispered.

‘I’m okay Twilight’ replied the grey pegasus.

At first conversation ranged through minor topics, like home and family, as if they were just out for a normal pleasant stroll. Ditzy talked at length about her filly Dinky, or rather ‘muffin’ as she nicknamed the young unicorn. In spite of its happy content, there was an unmistakable melancholy in all they said to one another.

‘By the way what’s his name?’ Twilight asked, gesturing towards the stallion, the question having just come to mind.

‘He doesn’t particularly like his name’ Ditzy replied with an unsure look.

‘Oh… so you don’t know?’

‘No I’m one of the few that does, it’s just…’ her unsynchronised yellow eyes independently looked to the distance as she chose her words. ‘A name is like a cutie mark you know. It’s personal to each of us, defining us but also defining how others see us. He doesn’t like his mark either for that matter.’ As Twilight listened to this much longer answer than she had been expecting, she looked to the stallion again. He seemed entirely unaware that they were speaking about him, rather being focused on the task at hoof. ‘That’s not to say he isn’t nice, ‘cause he really is, he’s just got quite a thick shell. If you take the time to look past those defences, you can catch a glimpse of the spark which lives inside. Equally if you see him smile, unlike so many other ponies, you’ll know he means it.’ Twilight now looked to the reflective expression which had formed on Ditzy’s face, as if she were in the midst of a memory, whilst she continued: ‘I don’t really want to say more Twilight, but if you give him the chance to let you in you’ll have somepony who’ll always fight your corner and never turn his back on you.’

The journey had passed quickly and they now reached the city’s outer limits. Here the path beneath their hooves became slightly rougher and stray pieces of rubbish were evident at its edges. The buildings too became more uniform, although this was the capital so they were not truly unpleasant, lacking the grandeur of central Canterlot. Also there were far fewer street lights, meaning that the only real illumination came from the night sky above. In the shadows of doorways and a few windows Twilight could see the outline of figures, watching their passage. From a side alley a small cream-coloured colt stepped gingerly forward, shivering in the cold evening air. This small pony nodded to them, giving a little smile and bringing his left forehoof to his chest so that the shoe looked akin to a crescent moon before his heart. His brown mane was unkempt and patches of dirt marred his coat. The two grey ponies immediately moved away from Twilight, Ditzy wrapping the foal in a hug, whilst the dark grey stallion reached another cloak from the saddle bags and placed it round its shoulders. Some words were spoken, but Twilight could not make them out, before the pair came back to her side, returning the colt’s initial hoof gesture as they did so. As they continued she looked back to see the small cream pony, now hooded and hidden under warm blue material, withdraw back into the darkness of the gutter. Turning the corner they had reached the first milestone of their labours, now being on the very edge of the city. A few more steps to freedom and then onwards to Luna.

‘Halt!’ came a familiar voice from behind the group.

Twilight froze, dreading the face she knew she would see when she turned around.

‘In the name of Celestia,’ the voice continued ‘turn and show your faces!’

The trio obeyed, the grey ponies flanking Twilight flexing their forelegs slightly in the anticipation of conflict. They now faced the glaring pink eyes of a bright blue pegasus, decked in the gold plates of a royal guard and with an equally golden set of spiked horseshoes; a match to those worn by the striped stallion at Twilight’s side. On the left of her chest plate a gilded insignia badge stood out, depicting a winged lightning bolt, meanwhile from beneath the mare’s armour flowed a mass of multi-coloured stripes which made up her mane and tail.

‘You two lower your hoods’ Rainbow Dash ordered.

Twilight and the stallion obeyed, whilst Ditzy remained motionless, like a coiled spring, waiting on her compatriots move.

‘Twi?’ Rainbow’s voice questioned, as her glower gave way to confused realisation.

The two sides just looked at one another, unsure of how they should react. The two former close friends stared into each other’s eyes, each searching for meaning in their counterpart’s gaze. Twilight knew not what Rainbow was seeing in her, but in the depths of the pegasus’ pink orbs she found a mix of unsure hurt. There was anger lying beneath this, but it seemed unable to break through the greater layers of sadness above. It felt like there was a great void between them, not the few steps across the cobblestones which existed in reality, but rather an ever deepening and widening crevasse. In her mind’s eye Twilight saw fires roaring at the bottom of this pit. As its jaws opened to hold them apart, it also threatened to extend below each of them, so as to draw them into its gaping maw. She opened her own mouth but no sound emerged, as if the dividing space were now a vacuum. Still their looks remained locked. Her eyes begged Rainbow’s for forgiveness, trying desperately to articulate her reasoning and regrets, whilst for the second time that evening her cheeks were stained a darker shade of lilac by trickles of tears.

‘Just go.’

The void was suddenly filled with the two words, as the loyal soldier turned away, returning to the depths of Canterlot. Twilight took a step forward, again opening her mouth without finding any words, but she faltered at the edge of the jagged canyon between them and could not move forward. The bright blue pegasus, who had once been her friend, disappeared as she rounded a corner without looking back.

Author's Note

References:
1) For All to See by Pearple Prose

Duty

‘Psst Rainbow, wake up.’

The bright blue pegasus’ ears twitched involuntarily at having heard the sound of their owner’s name. Her mind however had no intention of obeying the command to become conscious. Instead she tried defiantly to role onto her side, away from the demanding voice, but was immediately stopped by something jabbing her in the ribs. Feeling a tightened strap around her middle, she realised that she must be wearing her saddlebags. A second pressure around her forehead suggested she had on her flying goggles as well, meaning the fluffy mass she was nestled in was probably a cloud and not her bed as she had at first assumed. Resisting the efforts of both the bruised pain in her side and her brain’s gradual activation, as it attempted to work out her situation, she grabbed a bundle of cloud and buried her head beneath it.

‘C’mon Rainbow, get up.’

The voice was now half-recognisable, showing regrettably that its incessant attempts to wake her were having some effect. Realising the speaker was not going to let up she surrendered, excavating herself from below the cloud pillow and tentatively opening her eyes. To her surprise she was not immediately assaulted by the late morning sun, as was the norm, or even the intense light of the afternoon, which was also a frequent waking occurrence and would explain the nagging she was receiving. To the confusion of her not yet entirely lucid thoughts she was presented with a view of fading stars and a descending crescent moon, both departing in preparation for the dawn. Below her and stretching out in all directions were rolling fields of cloud, stained grey by the gradually retreating dark, but also dotted by patches of colour. Her keen eyes focused on these out of place patches and found that they were pegasus. All were in the midst of raising themselves from the swirling blanket and stretching, much like she was now doing, having been effectively awoken. They were decked in matching blue flight suits, goggles and saddlebags, all marked with gold sun insignia. This observation finally made her mind click: her squadron. Now turning she was met by the blank lens covered eyes of Misty Fly, the source of the persistent voice, wearing a similar blue suit to the others, but with additional lightning bolt markings.

‘You good?’ Misty brought a hoof through the well-coiffed strands of her striped mane as she asked the question.

‘All good’ lied Rainbow, bringing the goggles down from her forehead and smoothing out her own lightning streaked uniform as she said so. She had remembered exactly where she was and why she was there, sparking the return of reservations lost in sleep.

Misty nodded, turning her back to her leadpony and pointing to the saddlebags on her back. ‘Checks’ she said simply.

Rainbow approached the wingpony, first checking the bags’ straps and release cords before opening them to review the contents. In each lay a cluster of large, tightly corked and wax sealed vials of clear liquid, all well-padded to prevent them breaking upon one another during flight. The bottles looked much like the mess of alchemical equipment and supplies which resided in Twilight’s lab beneath Golden Oak Library, a thought which only escalated the doubts playing on her mind. Wincing with the effort of internal suppression, she tapped Misty on the shoulder and let the other mare make a reciprocal review of kit. Similar activity was going on amongst the rest of the pegasus present. Waiting for Misty’s verdict, she looked to the far distance, across the thick mat of clouds, and saw Spitfire and Silver Lightning finishing their own checks amongst their unit. They both in turn saw her, giving determined grins and waves. Before attempting a false smile in reply she received a pat from her partner, thankfully allowing her to look away. Her force had now assembled itself into two rows, the first made up of leaders and the second of wingponies, all waiting on the command to proceed: her command. At that moment the first of the sun’s rays broke over the horizon.

‘Dive!’ she yelled mechanically on cue, vainly trying and failing to impart confident resolve to her words.

Hooves struck the clouds, turning them from a smooth canvas to a perforated mass of holes, and everypony dropped into a dive. They dropped into the relative gloom of the world below, which was only now receiving the first light of day through the punctures they had kicked, having been denied the brightness of the night sky. In her element, Rainbow rode the high of the freefall, feeling the wind rushing past her face and letting the ground charge up to meet her. Misty raced her in the dissent, each daring the other to pull up first. Be it because of her insatiable competitiveness, intrinsic carelessness, total lack of concern for her own well-being or a combination of all three, Rainbow was the last to extend her wings. Waiting to the final possible moment, she pulled out of the dive, so narrowly escaping a crash that she felt the tickle of ferns brushing against her stomach. She now rose back into formation, basking in the adrenaline-fuelled afterglow of the stunt.

The familiar squat outlines of the edge of Ponyville loomed on the near horizon. In response to this sight a strange new sensation gripped her frame. For the first time in her life she actually wanted to fly slowly, so as to delay the inevitable, her wings refusing to make full beats through the air. Quickly however she was receiving a concerned look from Misty as the wingpony began to pull ahead. She sighed quietly and again increased her speed. On the horizon, just beyond the town, a formation of pegasus mirroring her own, were speeding toward the settlement. Seconds before the two units surging towards one another crossed into the outskirts of Ponyville, a third group burst through the clouds above the town, diving vertically onto their target. A roar of ‘Celestia’ went up amongst the ranks, breaking out into what had been the silence of early dawn. Yelling the battle cry with the rest, Rainbow’s forehooves went to the cords at her sides in order to release her saddlebags’ contents. As she did so however a familiar grass-thatched cottage, surrounded by trees whose branches were hung heavy with a great many birdhouses and feeders, placed by the shy pink-maned pegasus who lived there, came into view and caused her to hesitate. Her comrades meanwhile had no reservations, releasing the cargo in their bags to fall upon the buildings below. A series of crashing sounds rang forth, as the glass canisters struck their mark, immediately followed by plumes of flame as their liquid contents hit the air. Explosions erupted across Ponyville, along with torrents of fire leaping up toward the sky.

Before Rainbow’s eyes a trio of pegasus came screaming out of the air to dive bomb the cream-walled bakery which was Sugarcube Corner. In an instant the confection was burnt, the white frosting which ringed its roof instantly being scorched black. As something ignited inside, the whole building spontaneously exploded and the sudden blast of light shot images into her mind. She was no longer in Ponyville but flapping across a crevasse of distant memory, her five best friends trotting across a dilapidated rope bridge at her side. Her lips began to move forming words which emerged as sounds entirely beyond her control: ‘See, I’d never leave my friends hanging.’ Her other self’s conviction as she said those words was in complete opposition to objections she could feel painfully gnawing at her heart. Mist curled up from the chasm below and obscured her sight, but as it did so it changed, gaining the acrid scent of smoke. She shook her head, attempting to clear the fog from both her vision and mind, as she exited the noxious plume emanating from the burning husk of the bakery.

A second prominent explosion rose up from Carousel Boutique as its roof collapsed, throwing a torrent of clothing and fabric into the surrounding streets. Out of the dust rose a large ream of cloth, carried by an updraft of superheated air, which hung fluttering for a moment like a banner. The clouded sky behind this impromptu flag became a vast painted ceiling and she was now in the Canterlot Palace throne room, stepping onto a royal bodyguard flanked carpet. Each pair of guards she passed bowed their heads on each side of her, creating a ripple through their number, until she reached the Solar Princess’ seated form at the end of the crimson surface. Her lips again moved of their own accord and once more a determined voice came forth, this time amplified by the vaulted space. ‘I hereby swear absolute allegiance to our radiant sovereign Princess Celestia and the Solar Empire, which flourishes only under her caring gaze. In this I pledge my life to the defence of the realm from all enemies, both within and without. Should I ever falter in this duty or my loyalty ever waver, let me be cast from her light and into the lifeless abyss of the shadow beyond.’ As she found herself completing the oath, the royal alicorn before her gave an accepting bow of her crowned head. Following this signal, an armour-clad stallion stepped forth from the left side of the solar throne. He passed the rainbow pegasus her prize: a neatly folded flight suit, with a gold badge lying on top. In her mind’s eye she snatched the trophy, but in grasping the much desired object her inner self thought it felt somehow weightless and at the same time lacked lustre, in spite of its brilliantly polished surface. The sun’s rays cascading through the hall’s windows reflected off the winged lightning bolt symbol, clutched possessively in her hooves, and were reflected into her eyes, whiting out all vision.

Back in reality Misty made a series of hoof signals, questioning whether there was something wrong with Rainbow’s rig. Instinctively she replied honestly, shaking her head, and immediately regretted it, now lacking any excuse not to act. ‘They’re just traitors’ she told herself, repeating the phrase several times in an attempt to give it greater impact. In spite of her best efforts tears began to well in her eyes, forming small pools in the bottom of her goggles, as she loyally forced herself to pull on the cords. ‘Just don’t look down’ she thought, even as her eyes began to descend. ‘Don’t look down!’ she repeated, her inner self now shouting its order, but in spite of these protests she could not help it. Behind her a trail of vials fell to earth, creating a line of violent detonations which merged with others, now criss-crossing the streets like open wounds. The last few bottles dropped from her sides in a group, falling like a cluster of apples during harvest time on AJ’s farm. Instead of a bucket however, what waited to receive them were the outstretched arms of a particularly large oak tree, seeming entirely out of place amongst the Ponyville cottages around it. A balcony, through whose window she had often burst unannounced, stood prominent from the trunk and was first to be hit, its supports failing under the impact, causing it to plummet to the cobbles below. Within seconds the whole of Golden Oak Library was aflame, fires hungrily devouring the ancient tree and all its contents. Gazing down at the increasingly blackened skeleton, a fitting harbinger of what this act had unleashed, she knew that this was the end. The box had been opened, with no way to close its lid, meanwhile all bridges back had collapsed, like the tree was now doing, leaving no way back and no retreat from what had been released. ‘Goodbye Twilight’ thought Rainbow, as she turned back toward Canterlot, followed by a uniform formation of loyal pegasus.

Dinky was alone. She did not like being alone, but mommy had told her to be a ‘brave filly’ and she liked making mommy proud. ‘I just have to go get my friend,’ mommy had said, ‘so just wait here and be extra super quiet till I get back. Okay?’ Mommy had then left her hiding in a bush, whilst she went back into town. The bush was not very comfortable: the branches were scratchy and the ground beneath it was damp, but mommy had also left her a muffin and that made everything better.1 While she had tucked into the blueberry-stuffed treat, mommy had walked off to find her friend, which was weird now she thought about it because mommy really liked flying. That had been a long time ago and Dinky was now a bit bored of sitting in the dark. She did not like the dark either, but mommy had also told her that this was like hide and seek, so she resisted the urge to make a magical light. At the same time she was trying really hard not to let her horn give off any sparks, but this was tough because she was pretty excited. This was the latest she had ever stayed up. In fact she had been surprised when mommy had woken her up and said they had to go somewhere, because normally when she wanted to stay up mommy would tell her that sleep was very important.

Dinky pulled her dark blue cloak more closely around her shoulders to stave off the cold. The warm fabric helped but at the same time it made her feel sleepy, bringing a massive yawn to her face. She quickly shook her head, wanting to be awake when mommy came back. Shuffling forward, she peaked out of the undergrowth to look back at town, hoping to see mommy and her friend, even though she did not know who this friend was, but there was nopony around. The sky was filled with dark grey clouds, masking the night sky from her view. This made Dinky feel a bit sad because she loved seeing the stars and the moon. It was like they were hiding from her, just like she was hiding from… well she was not sure what she was hiding from actually. As she strained her eyes searching for a gap in the clouds, a large number of holes suddenly appeared across the sky and a swarm of flapping shapes whizzed through them. She could not help but let out a small surprised squeak, immediately covering her mouth with her forehooves as she remembered that she was supposed to be staying quiet. On realising that the flapping shapes were pegasus she calmed down a bit. Maybe mommy was amongst them. However none of them seemed to be flying in her direction and mommy had walked into town anyway, not flown. Dinky watched the winged-ponies form into two groups, both flying towards each other from opposite directions. A third group of pegasus appeared, diving out of the clouds like the first two had, making it look like the three groups were going to make a massive t-shape above town. It was like the air show mommy had taken her to a while ago in Cloudsdale, where she had seen the Wonderbolts perform. Because she could not walk around on clouds like pegasus could, mommy had flown her around on her back all day, which was loads of fun. Back then she had been slightly sad that she did not have wings, but mommy had promised to always be around to give her rides.

Dinky waited expectantly for the three groups to come together and make their t-shape over town, although she was confused why they were performing their stunt at night, but before this could happen, a series of flashes erupted below them. Another squeak escaped her mouth at the unexpected lightshow, along with a small flash of silver sparks which leapt from her horn. A few seconds later a stream of loud bangs struck her ears, causing them to fall flat against the sides of her head and her whole body to jump back in alarm. Now cowering from the noise beneath the safety of her cloak, her eyes grew into saucers as the whole horizon became a seething mass of orange, punctuated by white-hot bursts. At the same time the hillsides surrounding the firestorm were lit up by bright flares, revealing the shadowy outlines of figures stood upon them, and shining orbs trailed across the sky in a multitude of colours, to shower down into the mess of dancing flames. ‘Mommy?’ the pale filly’s question briefly hung uncertainly in the air, before being swiftly snuffed out by the distant crescendo of explosions. ‘Mommy?’ her voice cracked slightly as she cried out, repeating the question, fear slipping into her voice as the last of the town’s buildings vanished in amongst the swirling smoke and fire. ‘Mommy!’

‘Cease firing!’ The order was echoed several times around the straight ranks of gold-clad ponies. A last few bolts of magic arced across the sky, to land in Ponyville along with the final payloads dropped by pegasus overhead. By now the town was mostly aflame, the dancing orange light banishing the last vestiges of night lingering in the dawn. A white unicorn strode out before the assembled troops, barking her second order: ‘forward!’ Immediately the entire armoured multitude moved forth in perfect harmony, nopony out of sync, making the earth shake beneath their rhythmic hoof-falls. Before this regimented mass marched the unicorn, resplendent in the ornate armour of an officer, with the addition of excessive blue plumage on her helmet. Carefully chosen sapphires, which in her opinion were tonally perfect in the outfit and acted as a wonderful counterpoint to the purple of her mane, gleamed on the suit’s pauldrons. These both identified her rank and marked her out as one of the royal bodyguard. She was amongst the elite and most trusted of Celestia’s agents and the gaudy shine of her armour, inlayed with crystal accents, made sure that everypony knew it.

‘All clear Rarity’ came a voice from above.

The unicorn sighed in frustration. Everypony that was except the Wonderbolts who, following Rainbow’s example, seemed entirely incapable of using the correct address of ‘ma’am’ which befitted her title of Field Marshall. Rarity decided to let the act of misconduct go uncontested, largely because the formation of pegasus was rapidly moving out of ear shot, but woe betide any of her own soldiers should they make the mistake of descending to such informality.

The columns descended the hillside in silence, the disgusting smell of burnt flesh and singed hair rising to assault their advancing nostrils. As soon as they entered the crippled and failing body, which but an hour before had been a quietly slumbering town, they dispersed into pre-determined groups in order to scour it for the traitors obviously hidden within. Rarity led her force to the centre of Ponyville, on route passing Carousel Boutique. The building’s roof had collapsed and now all that remained was a twisted ribcage of timber, with flames gradually consuming its insides. She heard the crunch of glass beneath her bladed shoes, the shop’s windows having been shattered by explosions within and their shards thrown outwards, and she chose to briefly pause. At her hooves lay a debris field of silk, ribbons and dresses, all lightly smouldering and looking like the spilled guts of a savagely butchered creature. Bright colours and patterns steadily faded into grey ash, reducing years of organised labour to mere black stains on the ground. Anger at once shot through her. All of this was their fault and they would pay. With this thought and a fresh glare adorning her face, she set off again. The lesser commanders that flanked her, perfectly anticipated her movements and fell in to line at her side, followed by the rest of her personal cohort. All those who could not instinctively follow in this manner had already been culled from their number.

The expanse of flagstones which made up Ponyville’s central square, stretching out before the town hall, was now a mass of hectic activity. Crowds of ponies were being quickly led in from surrounding streets, searched and then corralled at its centre, having been ejected from their homes whilst the soldiers methodically ransacked each dwelling. The wretched prisoners themselves stood silently in neat rows, all covered in a mix of cuts, bruises and burns. Rarity allowed herself a satisfied smile, but she did not let it stretch too far, after all her forces were the best because she kept them on the tips of their hooves. For all its speed the operation was proceeding in a well ordered fashion, meeting her very exacting standards. The town’s main hall, which also served as the centre of local government, amazingly was still standing, in spite of several direct hits. Its spire however was leaning crazily to one side, making the now crooked structure seem as if it could collapse at any time. This was a dreadful shame as, apart from her own boutique, the hall was one of the few things which brought a level of class to this hovel of a hamlet. The thought of her ruined shop brought fresh rage to the front of her mind, extinguishing the small grin she had permitted and replacing it with a scowl as hard as marble.

‘Ma’am,’ a pale green stallion said as he approached and brought his right hoof up in a salute, ‘we have detained the mayor.’ He could not quite disguise a faint stutter in his voice as he said this, presumably an unsure response to her look of anger.

She nodded in reply: ‘lead the way.’

Out of the main doors and down the front steps of the town hall, a bedraggled brown earth mare, limped, encouraged by prods from the spiked hooves of a pair of gold armour-encased stallions at her back. A set of spectacles balanced pointlessly on her nose, their rims now holding only a few lingering shards of the lens they once contained, whilst the tattered remnants of a suit collar remained around her neck. Rarity and her party approached, led by the victorious green officer who had taken the prize.

Recognition appeared in the mayor’s blue eyes and she spoke: ‘Rarity… why… why have you done this?’

‘You have nopony to blame but yourself dear’ came the unicorn’s blunt reply. ‘Now where are the traitors hiding?’

‘But we declared Ponyville’s neutrality’ the mayor responded, not answering the question, to the annoyance of her interrogator.

‘What you did was refuse entry to the forces of Princess Celestia, whilst blatantly harbouring vile schismatics’ said Rarity, throwing out the accusation to nods of agreement from her soldiers.

‘We’ve “harboured” nopony!’ replied the mayor, now becoming angry. ‘We refuse to take either side in this…’

‘And in doing so you’ve chosen betrayal’ interrupted Rarity, in a patronising sigh. ‘In not standing with your sovereign you have chosen to stand against her.’

‘Our refusal to turn away any injured pony, whatever their ideology, does not represent treachery!’ the earth mare shouted, falling into exasperation as the unicorn wanted.

‘Injured hmmm… so I assume they’re in the hospital yes?’ said Rarity, a self-satisfied and slightly sinister smile on her lips. ‘Thank you dear, now take her away.’

The mayor again opened her mouth to make protest, but received a viscous jab in the ribs from one of the guards, silencing her. The interrogation successfully conducted, Rarity turned to the adjutant on her right. ‘Commander, you will oversee the conclusion of the operation here, whilst I’ll personally take a small force to pacify Ponyville General’ she ordered, instantly receiving a reply of ‘yes ma’am’ from the soldier.

Back into the fire-scarred streets the column marched, looking like spectres as they moved through the fog of smoke and weaving between piles of wreckage. They swam against a tide of prisoners being escorted in the opposite direction, whilst on either side unyielding buildings had their doors bucked from their hinges, as soldiers entered to the sound of fearful cries from within. Ash was beginning to settle in heaps, making a soft carpet for their steps. Rarity however was far more concerned by the threat of dirt dulling her armour’s shine, resulting in her neurotically brushing herself down at every opportunity. Looking for a reflective surface to survey herself in, she noticed a small hoof hanging limply out of a pile of rubble, blood pooling out from amongst the mix of snapped timber and cracked brickwork. Her reaction was to step carefully around the ghastly sight, making sure not to mar her hooves with the crimson ichor. All at once they had crossed again through the town’s outskirts and before them lay the imposing structure of Ponyville’s hospital, another building remarkably unharmed by explosions. The only obvious damage had been done to the sign which stood before the entrance, having been blasted by a nearby detonation, leaving the four heart symbols which decorated it peppered with shrapnel. Beside this a trio of medical ponies defiantly blocked the path, two of whom she recognised from previous visits as Doctor Stable and Nurse Redheart.

‘What do you want here?’ asked the doctor, as he stepped boldly forward to face the approaching force.

‘Hello again doctor, it’s been a while’ Rarity replied pleasantly ‘you look well.’

‘What do you want?’ he repeated.

‘Well straight to the point then’ she sighed to her fellow unicorn. ‘We are aware that there are a number of rebels being treated on these premises. You will direct us to them.’

‘I am under oath to help anypony in need and everypony here is under my care’ the caramel stallion answered, maintaining his defensive stance. ‘I cannot let you jeopardise their treatment or my integrity.’

Rarity sighed again: ‘Doctor I’m a busy mare and we’re going to search the place anyway, whether you like it or not…’

‘No’ he interrupted, to her annoyance.

She waved her hoof and five soldiers stepped forward, igniting their horns and flexing their forehooves. ‘This is your last warning.’
In response Stable merely called magic to his own horn, sending a bolt towards the nearest of his attackers. The shot however missed its target, the well-trained stallion skilfully dodging, as his compatriots charged. The melee, ultimately merely an exercise in futility, was over quickly, restraining magic enveloping the doctor, as bladed hooves fell upon him. A last blow impacted against his face with a jarring crack, as the bone beneath failed. Magic fetters left the doctor and he collapsed, jaw hanging uselessly open, limp and broken. Redheart and the third pony, another nurse mare with a blue coat and cyan mane who Rarity did not recognise, rushed forward to their fallen comrade, before being restrained by the armoured stallions.

‘You will direct me to where the dissenters are or I will personally have this place torn apart to find them, followed by you’ she levelled the threat at the unknown nurse, whose name tag read “Tenderheart”.

Faced with this brutally impregnable will and thinking of the many fresh patients in town who would need the hospitals care, the medical mare yielded. ‘Third floor, room 48’ she sighed, regretting every word.

‘Thank you darling. Now you four with me and the rest of you create a perimeter, no one in or out’ Rarity said, turning from the nurse to her troops. Salutes and ‘yes ma’am’s followed, as the white unicorn magically pushed open the building’s front doors. As she entered she was immediately engulfed by the scent particular of hospitals, that specific antiseptic smell which somehow always manages to seem too clean and therefore lifeless. At the same time the place was colourless: all white hallways, white curtains and white furniture. All this conspired to make the place inevitably drip a foreboding sense of death. Although she admired the attention to tonal detail and cleanliness, Rarity still found the wards distasteful, not to mention entirely lacking in the internal decorations which the imposing external architecture seemed to promise. She chose to pass quickly through the sterile corridors of identical doors, soon reaching the third floor and the target room. On her approach however, frantic movements could be heard within, forcing her to rush forward, followed by the four armoured stallions accompanying her. Her hooves battered the door off its hinges and she was presented by a small three bed room, with a single occupant laid out on one of them. Noticing an open window, she cursed that she had not thought about disguising the recognisable sound of their marching hooves, assuming that somepony had heard them coming and made an escape. ‘Search the room’ she ordered, as she moved towards the one occupied bed and set her helmet to one side. In it lay a pale-yellow coated earth mare, with a chaotically curly orange mane, matching the colour of three carrots which made up her cutie mark. Treated injuries presented themselves to her gaze, most prominent being a long line of stitching running the length of the pony’s side, along with a copiously bandaged foreleg. Rarity thought that she recognised the mare, but had to look at a chart at the foot of the bed to give her a name, also noting that the patient was overdue a fresh dose of painkillers.

‘Golden Harvest?’ she questioned emotionlessly, as if this were a normal introduction.

The mare gave a nod, obvious fear playing behind her emerald eyes.

‘So what brings you to Ponyville General this fine morning?’ the purple-maned unicorn continued, applying a synthetic pleasantness to her voice.

‘Well… I had a bit of an accident in the… garden yesterday and…’

‘You poor thing,’ interrupted Rarity, again looking at the bed’s notes, ‘but however did you manage to get a “third-degree burn, probably of magical origin” whilst gardening dear?’

The earth mare immediately fell into terrified silence, her eyes darting about as if a legitimate excuse lay somewhere amongst the room’s medical paraphernalia. Rarity just studied her now uncomfortably squirming subject, becoming increasingly aware of how satisfying this was. She had always enjoyed taking charge, so the pleasure of rank and command was no surprise, but never before had she had the opportunity to be in such total control of another’s very existence. The mix of absolute power and successful manipulation was quite potent, providing pleasurable sensations akin to a rush. One of her soldiers approached, breaking her from her thoughts, holding a piece of dark blue fabric and a small silver item, stating: ‘we found this cloak in one of the cupboards and this badge by the window ma’am. Probably fell off as somepony left in a hurry.’ She took the shiny insignia, turning it over in her hooves. What it depicted was a skull, with a single feathered wing extending from the back of its cranium.

‘I assume the cloak is yours,’ Rarity began, resuming the interrogation, ‘but who does this badge belong to?’

‘I have no idea’ came the all too rapid reply, the question wrenching the mare from her futile quest for a better answer to the first.

Rarity sighed. ‘Now look, as it stands I already can’t abide you rebellious types, but by lying you stand to truly test my patience’ she said coldly, with the exited feeling building within her.

‘I really don’t know’ in a frightened and yet determined tone was all that this tacit threat elicited.

‘Well I didn’t want to have to undo these fine doctors’ handiwork, but you’ve forced my hoof.’ The unicorn gave a shrug and then continued: ‘I think it’s time that dressing was changed.’ All at once the bed and its occupant were enveloped in a light blue aura and a set of restraints, kept for particularly unruly patients, came to life, snaking onto Golden Harvest’s hooves, which were kept from moving by the magic. Once the ties and buckles were tightly fastened the blue glow subsided, leaving the ginger mare defencelessly splayed out and held in place. The four stallion soldiers moved on cue to surround the bed, removing any chance of escape, even if the restraints broke, and Rarity set to work, first gently unwinding the bandages on the mare’s leg. What was revealed was a large circular burn, a recognisable magical fire or lightning impact, surrounded by black scabs and remnants of fur, with a yellow-green viscous centre, criss-crossed by a network of red lines. The wound looked obviously tender, only in the first stages of healing. She now telekinetically moved a trolley of medical equipment, which she had seen on entering the room, to her side, briefly perusing its contents before selecting a set of stitching needles. For some reason she found herself wanting for air, having been holding her breath in anticipation, causing her to inhale deeply as she readied one of the pointed objects. The needle descended into the centre of the wound, its wielder feeling an inner surge as it pierced the surface of raw flesh. A cry split the expectant silence which had developed, as first clear plasma and then blood trickled from around the point of impact. Rarity however was disappointed, both with insignificant red stream and the response to it. Loosing herself in the moment, she hovered the rest of the needles in a swarm and brought them down all over the burn area, this time forcing each one a good inch into what had been the patient’s healing flesh. Now a full blown scream shot out, echoing down the corridor, to the thrilled satisfaction of the white unicorn. Remembering that this activity was meant to be serving an actual purpose, Rarity added: ‘still don’t know who your compatriot is?’

‘Buck you’ was Golden Harvest’s response, coming through tightly gritted teeth, resisting the pain.

Her torturer therefore returned her gaze to the cart of equipment, seeking inspiration. All manner of knives and blades were available to her but none sung out to be used. She looked back at her subject, whose face was now contorted by efforts to control the agony racking her body. As the earth mare squirmed in discomfort, one of her hooves fell into the path of sunlight beginning to come in through the window, causing a flash as it reflected of the metal soles of her shoes. This sparked a thought and she turned back to the trolley, foregoing the intricate saws and scalpels in favour of a weighty looking surgical hammer, its head being a blunt square, tapering to a point. The instrument was in total opposition to those she normally wielded, in its formless simplicity, but this gave it an alien allure.

Pain: it was all that Golden Harvest felt, boring into her and rippling throughout her body, causing it to convulse against her will. There was a dull scream, but it seemed distant. Had she herself screamed? Everything was drowned by the terrible burning, meaning she could not tell. ‘Stop moving’ she thought. ‘The more you move, the more this hurts.’ Her body was grudgingly forced to obey her mind, ceasing most of its squirming and knocking the pain back to a sharp throb. The questioning voice of her tormentor came through the parting seas and entered her ears. ‘Tell her nothing, you’re still in control.’ Her mouth acted as instructed, producing only blunt defiance. Some satisfaction burst amidst the pain and settled itself to bolster her heart, giving a small feeling of warmth.

Quiet: now that her ears were no longer submerged in the fire, a strange almost silence permeated the orange mare’s ears. ‘What’s going on?’ ‘What’s she planning?’ ‘Is it over?’ The sound of metal moving against metal provided no answer, as the face of her torturer blocked her vision. An immaculate white face, hair pampered to the point of shinning, glared down at her. In the purity of its visage there was an absolute hardness, as if it were made of snow covered stone, leaving the viewer no room for manoeuvre in its gaze. ‘She’s not going to stop until you tell her something’ came her inner voice again. Crack! Again the sound of metal on metal, but this time it rang out as two objects smashed against each other. A second impact, then a third and then a splintering noise, as a fresh pain shot into her right leg. Instinctively she turned her head and was faced by a hammer floating above the mangled mess of bent steel and shattered nail, which had been her hoof. The appendage had been slightly stunned by the shock, so it was as if she were viewing that of another pony, as the hammer flipped over and moved to the her hoof’s pad, claws attempting to catch behind its shoe. The tool gripped its target and its handle began to lever downwards. It felt as if her whole toe was being pulled off, wrenching her back into the reality of whose leg she was looking at, as the hammer forcefully dragged the shoe’s bent pins from their secured positions, scraping every nerve they passed in their movement. Small gouts of blood came forth with each wrench from the instrument, quickly spilling a deep red stain across the bed’s sheets. Crying out, she looked away; not wanting to see anymore, and fell back into the blue eyes of the unicorn still leant over her. The aqueous orbs were coldly studying each spasm of pain her face made, visibly gleaming at what they saw. ‘She’s enjoying this.’ In a final movement, accompanied by a ripping noise, the metal tacks were torn from her pad, bringing small clumps of flesh with them and she blacked out, overcome by agony.

Rarity puffed in an annoyed pout. Although she was still having fun, the mare’s continued insolence was becoming an annoyance. She continued to look over her increasingly destroyed subject, still considering her own intriguing feelings about the situation. ‘Is it the power?’ she thought, already well aware of the pleasure she felt at being in command and being obeyed. ‘Or something else?’ Normally her life was one of careful creation, but this was the exact opposite, making it most stimulating. ‘Wake her up’ she ordered aloud, returning her attention to the cart of tools.

Light: a stinging brightness attacked Golden Harvest’s senses as she was roughly brought back into consciousness. All at once the pains lost in the darkness returned: the punctures in her burnt leg and the ruined mess of her forehoof, with the minor addition of bruised swellings across her cheeks, all struck her. ‘There’s no way out of this, it’s not going to stop’ repeated her mind, accelerating the death of her own resistance. Fighting this rising feeling of defeat she turned her neck, all the time fighting the discomfort of mere movement, looking to the stallions which flanked the bed. Emerald eyes searched one blank expression after another, finding only merciless voids. Desperation rising, she jerked her head to the other side in order to view the other pair of guards. Again hollowness in the first soldier’s face, but in the second there was more. The emptiness of his countenance seemed only skin-deep, as if it were façade which did not quite reach his yellow eyes. ‘Please make it stop’ her thoughts appealed to him through her irises. The mask slipped for a moment, revealing concern and guilt lying beneath the apathetic exterior. ‘You have to help me’ her mind continued, projecting the plea through the wall of her own agony. His mouth opened to form words, but a female voice beat them to it. The unicorn was speaking again, probably asking more questions. The orange mare ignored her, continuing to beg through her stare: ‘please!’ A hoof hit her bruised face, slapping it to attention.

‘Answer my question!’ the marble face shouted down at her, all its calmness subsumed by growing anger, which caused blood vessels to bulge like serpents in the seas of its eyes.

Doubt: it had been gradually creeping up on the earth mare and now had pounced on the pain racked mess of her brain. ‘Maybe this will stop if you tell her something’ came a quiet thought, stalking into the light. The idea of giving in and possible survival struck her senseless, so she did not hear what the face was now saying, but it levitated a pair of tweezers before her eyes as it did so. As quickly as it had appeared, the small implement moved to her left side and out of view. ‘You have to tell her or…’ The words in her head were cut off by the sensation of metal points probing the sealed wound which snaked along her side. A deceptively calm voice said something about regretting ‘having to ruin such fine stitching’, just before she felt a pinch and then it was as if all the skin on her side was being stretched away from the underlying flesh. She did not scream this time, trying to maintain any kind of composure, but in spite of this, tears began to roll down her cheeks. The pulling feeling continued and it felt like her pelt was being strained to the point of tearing, as the tweezers again came into view, dragging a strand of blood-coated surgical thread with them. ‘Say something!’ shouted her mind. She looked to her one possible saviour, reuniting with his eyes for a mere second, but just as they met his silver face turned away, abandoning her to her fate. ‘No one’s coming, there’s no way out.’ Pain again engulfed her frame as the strand sliced open the holes it was stitched through, ripping a ragged edge through her skin. ‘Say something!’ The strand kept coming, dripping with crimson rivulets, as she felt a tear opening up, cutting down to reveal the upper musculature of her side to the air. ‘Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!’

‘Ditzy Doo!’ The howled name rushed out in abject surrender, echoing from the ward and into the hospital’s halls.

‘See wasn’t that easy’ Rarity said with mock sweetness, looking over the broken frame which now occupied the bed in place of the pony which had done before. ‘Now because I’m feeling generous and you’ve been so helpful, I’m willing to take the pain away.’ With that she telekinetically raised a syringe of anaesthetic from the trolley of equipment. The yellow earth mare nodded frantically and shut her eyes in anticipation of the needle, meaning she did not see Rarity nod to the soldiers either side of the bed and turn away. As she levitated her plumed helmet back on and exited into the hallway, the white unicorn heard a series of heavy hoof impacts, followed by a wet cracking noise, then finally a muffled gurgling. She paused in order to allow her loyal servants to return to her side, using pieces of bed sheet to clean the blood and clumps of ginger mane from their shoes as they did so. ‘It would seem they’re scraping the proverbial barrel for recruits,’ she smirked, ‘if they’re willing to accept a wall-eyed retard into their ranks.’ The remark was received with mechanical laughter from three of her cohort.

The fourth however, a yellow-eyed stallion with a silver coat, did not join them, instead his insecure voice came forth in a question: ‘pardon me ma’am, but was what we just did in there really necessary?’

Rarity froze in place, shocked in part by the question, but more by its source. Gleaming Cavalier for some time now had been her favourite adjutant amongst her force, an unwavering and unquestioning sentinel always at her side. For this reason alone did he not face her immediate wrath as she turned to face him, although the other soldiers expected it, taking a step away from what they thought was a doomed pony. ‘Of course it was “necessary”’ she fumed, ‘and you of all ponies should know better than to question me.’

‘I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just…’

‘Permit me to remind you of why we are here’ she interrupted authoritatively. ‘We are here to crush the rebellion which threatens the realm, before it has the chance to infect all of Equestria. Like good surgeons we must systematically expunge this contagion, amputating infected limbs if required, in order to save the patient placed in our care.’ The Field Marshall returned to striding forward, as she preached: ‘unlike our adversaries, who are driven only by their own festering ambition, we are the agents of Celestia’s benevolent will, charged with the burden of protecting the harmony of her empire. As the bearers of her light we are granted the power and heavy responsibility to exterminate all threats, by any means “necessary”.’ The quintet exited the stale antiseptic atmosphere of the hospital and Rarity again looked to Cavalier. ‘Do not waver, look to your oath and remember our duty is to the greater good.’ The reproached soldier looked to his hooves, avoiding his commander’s absolute gaze, as she concluded her speech, whilst the sun rose ever higher into the sky, showering the smouldering corpse of Ponyville with its light.

Author's Note

References:
1) Bubbles by anonymous

Freedom

The sun beams down on her open sewer, illuminating the stagnant pond with lying light. In the muck creatures stir, rousing themselves for the beginning of a new day, unaware or unwilling to recognise their entrapment. Instead of filth, their surroundings are lit as a mirage of bright hope, order and the possibility of achievement. Bolstered by this waking dream they throw themselves into the day, convinced of purpose, whilst in reality they remain in the quagmire. Efforts and resources are drained by their futile quest for the proscribed perfection, then as the night draws in cracks begin to show in their world, shattered through unremitting toil. The festering ooze trickles in, poisonous vapours rising to their nostrils and the leeching cold of the swamp finally begins to bite into their flesh. Their only response is flight into the synthetic gleam of the evening, patching over the holes with desperate consumption. Lines of reality again pushed back, they retreat into intoxicated sleep to await the next day. All are trapped, from within and without, locked into a straightjacket of imposed identity, whilst being manipulated like puppets held aloft by barbed wire, with only lies or escapism illuminating their hollow world.

She was not sure whether it was the disgusting taste or equally unpleasant smell which hit her first as she regained consciousness, but either foulness alone was more than enough to cause her senses to recoil. In her mouth sat a familiar waking enemy: the nauseating flavour of alcohol which has settled on the palate for too long, a common herald of the dawn following overindulgence the night before. On this occasion however it had with it an underlying friend with which she was not so well acquainted. Metal maybe… she was unsure, but her dry tongue attempted to shrink back from it, meanwhile her nostrils were being assaulted with every breath she drew in. Predominate in the attacking scent was smoke, making her airways feel dirty as it entered, but somehow more acrid were other elements it was mixed with. Alcohol again, but with a recognisable fruity sweetness identifying it as wine, the warmth of mixed spices and the light perfume of flowers mingled to produce a fragrance both more pungent and repulsive because it stood in antithesis to the dominant burnt aroma. Once more below all this was something metallic… possibly iron?

Her other senses were gradually becoming clearer now and she realised that she was on her back, feeling an uncomfortably hard smoothness below her. A warm air blew across her coat, but any heat she may have gained from it was immediately sucked from her, down into the cold surface on which she lay, sending chills through her frame. She felt her ears twitch, coming to attention and then scanning their surroundings. They heard little. It was not the case that there was silence, quite the opposite in fact, but rather she found her hearing filled with the single prevailing noise, akin to the roar of wind passing through a tunnel. Steadily other sounds began to break through, although everything seemed as if it were being listened to underwater. There were a multitude of unintelligible voices and the sharp clattering of invisible objects shattering, but all was distant.

She finally let her eyelids raise, excavating her irises from their burial in inky blackness, to be released into the bejewelled expanse of the night sky. Her neck acted first, slowly rising from its freezing pillow, followed by the rest of her body as she sat up, feeling a bruised ache in every joint she moved. Now sat on her haunches, she found herself within a sea of scattered garden furniture. Overturned tables and chairs stood like islands on a shined marble floor, itself covered in shoals of glass shards and broken crockery. Reefs of spilled food were dotted everywhere, with salad leaves looking like damp seaweed and various vegetables playing the part of brightly coloured coral, meanwhile swirling clouds of grey smoke punctuated the scene, as they floated over the ocean of debris. The feeling of dusty air hurt her eyes, causing her to blink violently and small beads of tears to rush forth, attempting to clean them but only increasing their soreness in the process.

Situation appraised, if not understood, her attention diverted to her own state and she looked down so as to inspect herself. To her relief she found her pelt to only be badly matted, as opposed to caked in detritus as her surroundings had led her to believe. It was satisfying to find that it had maintained its pure ivory lustre, in spite of whatever foul treatment had obviously occurred. She now elevated her forehooves to her gaze, checking her recently hooficured nails for any chip or blemish. Thankfully again she found nothing, but as she continued her inspection a small dark droplet fell before her eyes, passing almost in slow motion, to land on the pristine appendage. Like a stain on a field of snow, the minute crimson splatter stood out, tarnishing the entire surface with its presence. A second drop plummeted in the same way to join its kin, this time however she reacted to save herself, letting it instead impact on the polished floor. It was strange but both her own movements and those of the droplets seemed blurry, happening as a rapid series of images as opposed to in smooth arrangements, as if her eyes could not quite focus properly. Her faulty vision panned upwards in search of the red liquid’s source. Nothing but lightly twinkling stars stared back. Confused her forehooves moved to her face, tracing first her jaw, then her snout and then further upwards. As her feeling motions moved from her eyebrows to her maneline she found it: a thin indented line, snaking just beneath her horn and damp to the touch. The hoof recoiled, horrified at what it found, as her confused mind finally gained a degree of clarity. She seemed to be alone, she could smell smoke and she was bleeding from a gash on her head. She needed to move.

Unstable hooves placed themselves on the floor, as she shakily stood up, gradually taking the very slight weight of the slender mare they were attached to. She did not think that she could have been unconscious for long, but her body was acting like it had been in a coma and was now having to relearn how to move. A foreleg extended gingerly, both trying to retain what little balance had been achieved and to avoid the various jagged fragments of glass or porcelain which littered the marble, eventually planting itself determinedly in hopes of spurring the rest to do the same. The other legs just about managed to follow suit, clumsily imitating the first. Progress to begin with was slow, requiring the support of anything solid within reach to remain upright, but steadily her body readjusted. In spite of her best efforts she occasionally felt the crunch of shards beneath her shoes, although luckily she avoided puncturing her hoof pads, causing her to stare ever more intently at the ground. Increasingly she stepped round large red pools on the stone surface, some obviously wine, others obviously not, a tell-tale metallic odour identifying the difference. What had happened? Her mind strained to pierce the blankness of recent memory, as she found herself at the epicentre of the destruction. In the midst of a circle of wrecked furniture was a crater, cutting through the shined surface of the marble to reveal the grains of its underlying layers. What drew her attention however was not the hole, but rather the copious amount of iron-scented liquid lying in puddles around it, along with a solitary purple-coloured lower leg. The abandoned piece of appendage rested on its side, the bone of its severed joint sticking out, with a wreath of torn layers of skin and musculature looking like the petals of a bizarre flowering plant. Nausea immediately hit her stomach, rising quickly to her mouth and she threw up, feeling the burn of stomach acid strike at her throat. ‘Just keep moving’ her mind spoke with calm resolve, fighting against the mixed orders of her shrieking instincts, which were collectively telling her to scream, run, hide and puke again.

By now the smoke which had been lingering in the air was beginning to fade in the night air, revealing that this space was actually a building’s roof, ringed by an intricate wrought iron fence, constructed to simulate interwoven vines. What lay beyond this perimeter however, remained obscured. Three sides of this open-air dining area were made up of this mock greenery, whilst the fourth was a wall, decorated rustically in cream-coloured plaster, with an archway set into it. A way down? She made directly for the potential portal, carefully tip-toeing amongst pointed wreckage. Stairs lay within, poorly illuminated by a few flickering lamps, but leading downwards. Salvation. Her hopeful hooves stepped into the gloom, moving in partial blindness to seek out each descending mahogany step she had to take. ‘Just one step at a time…’ She misjudged a distance, pivoting wildly on the brink and was only just able to re-right herself before tipping into a fall. A sigh of relief and exasperation softly escaped her lips, whilst for some reason the feeling of déjà vu stormed her mind, but infuriatingly doing so without providing any clue as to the memory which had triggered it. ‘For buck’s sake’ she swore in annoyance, although appreciating the fact that she was able to effectively let her restrictive mask of civility slip. Social expectations had always hung heavy upon her, stemming from a strict Canterlot upbringing, forcing her to think, act and enjoy in the way she was instructed. This is why she had come here of course: a new city, a fresh start, etcetera, etcetera. A prolonged process though it was, she was gradually breaking the great many chains of etiquette and enforced taste with which she had been bound. There was a long way still to go, but still she had never felt freer or more truly herself.

By now she had reached the base of the stairway and was faced by another archway, a mirror image to the first. Through it lay a bar space in a similar state of desolation to the area she had now left above her, but marked by a few differences. These quickly became apparent as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit cavern, whose only lighting came from a few lone candles, hanging amongst their mostly extinguished waxen fellows, in chandeliers like elaborate stalactites. Everything was coated in a fine crystal carpet, made up of the shattered remnants of mirrors, which had stood prominent behind the bar, an assortment of broken bottles and the building’s long front windows. A shimmering of reflected light played throughout the space, being echoed off the sharp blanket of assorted shards. In places the cave walls glistened with fluid, much like water moving between rock strata, dripping to join the crimson underground rivers which snaked across the floor in flowing smears. The stench here was unbearable, iron and burnt hair combining to produce an astringent scent. She turned away, resisting the urge to vomit again, and found herself looking into a portrait above the arch she had just passed through. An image of Princess Celestia smiled down at her, sat on the solar throne in a position of absolute benign authority and flanked by red imperial flags. The image, although relatively common throughout the city, ignited recognition somewhere within her, but once again not enough to provide any explanatory memories. ‘I was here with… for a meal... with somepony?’ she struggled, an accompanying feeling of warmth telling her the pony in question was important to her. ‘But who… why?’ Her mind was beginning to connect the pieces of her most recent past. ‘A date maybe… with…’ Suddenly it clicked: ‘Coco, where’s Coco?’

The distant drone of voices, the crackling of power and then a bright light cut through the all-consuming blackness.

Everything was restful and soft. She was enveloped from head to tail in a nest of comforting warmth, surrounded by layers of silk, coloured gold by sun rays from an unseen source. However she was not the sole occupant of this tranquil cocoon and as she lay on her side she studied the beautiful creature she was sharing the bed with. Her eyes immediately went to the face, inclined slightly towards her, moving from velvety lips, to trace finely sculpted cheek bones up past eyes lightly closed in contented sleep, finally reaching a slender horn set in the mare’s forehead. The stunning visage sat nestled within a long mane of interlocked pale and light pink stripes, flowing about the unicorn’s head and falling unkempt across the sheets towards her viewer. Somehow the face, usually adorned with some manner of makeup, and the normally tidy mane held even greater beauty in their present state. With all adornment stripped away she could truly see the pure white mare beside her, unmarred by any façade or defensive wall carefully placed to placate society. Her gaze panned down across the snowy body, moulded to pose and model, but now devoid of any and all tension that said purpose produced. Muscles lay in a state of relaxation, perfectly happy in their present place, fore and rear hooves curled up between the two of them. Her eyes continued downward, past the unicorn’s flanks, adorned with the mare’s namesake, a trio of fleur-de-lis, reaching the point where their two tails met, intertwining to form mixed swirls of pastel blue and pink at the foot of the bedspread. A sudden intake of breath from her marefriend roused her from her gazing and she met the purple eyes as they fluttered open. The two of them simply stared into one another across the ethereal expanse of bedding, neither having to say a word, as they lay together in the carefree paradise that they produced for one another.

‘Coco?’ the name rang out into the dilapidated emptiness. ‘Coco?’ came the questioning tone again, gaining a new degree of desperation as it spoke. Fleur wheeled around, searching every corner and beneath every piece of furniture, attempting to catch site of her marefriend. To her dismay there was nopony, just more dreaded bloody marks and the occasional fleshy lump or tuft of hair. Forgetting the crystalline minefield on the floor, she galloped for the doorway, feeling but not registering as the jagged serrations sank their teeth into her hooves. Magic sprung into her horn, readying itself to fling open the portal as she took the last few steps toward her target. Just as she reached it however, the door swung wildly inwards, seemingly of its own volition, followed by an intense pain and a ringing sound as the panel impacted with the side of her head. Vision suddenly blurring, she stumbled sideways and watched a pair of identical armoured mares step in tandem through two fuzzy duplicate versions of the doorway. A second set of twins followed the first and then several more sets of mirror image soldiers entered. They seemed unaware of her presence, moving instead to efficiently sweep the wreckage of the room. Her now once again forcibly jumbled mind reciprocated their ignorance, pushing her forward through one of the swinging door frames and into the cool night air beyond.

Smoke attacked her purple eyes, stinging them a shade to match her mane, as she stepped out of the oppressive stillness of the dead restaurant and into the anarchy of the street beyond. The building she had been in was tiny in comparison to the awe-inspiring towers which surrounded it, all stretching impressively high into the sky and adorned in a myriad of fluttering imperial pennants. The red flags spilled from the windows or across walls like seeping cuts, filling the space between the mega-structures with their fluid movements and glinting gold sun symbols. The ground below was a similar mess made up of frenzied activity: pavement and road littered with rows of bodies, being seen to by a buzzing mass of medical ponies, whilst ranks of gold-clad soldiers moved to push back rapidly forming crowds. Fleur entered unsteadily into this dizzying chaos, looking anxiously about the swarm, trying to spot Coco. She was half-relieved that her quick scan did not reveal the mare amongst those lying in various injured states, but at the same time she was terrified by the thought of other far worse conclusions. ‘Erm… excuse me’ her voice came out near silent in amongst the crescendo around her. ‘Excuse me have you seen an earth mare with a bright blue mane?’ she tried again, questioning one of the medical personnel.

‘Can’t you see I’m busy here’ the yellow unicorn bluntly replied, without looking up from his patient, from whose side he was telekinetically removing various pieces of shrapnel.

Fleur continued through the horde, making several further attempts at inquiries and each time being hurriedly rebuffed. ‘Excuse me have you…’ she never finished the question as something large and heavy crashed into her, causing her to slip of balance and land in amongst a pile of rotting garbage. ‘Out of the way’ a gruff voice addressed her as she returned to her hooves with considerable effort, trying to remove the putrid gunge from her fur. She had fallen off the street and into a side alley, or rather she had been pushed aside by a trio of imperial officers as they moved by. She was now caked in decaying matter, frighteningly alone and filled with hollow uncertainty. ‘Coco?’ she waveringly asked the void in a whisper.

Heavy hooffalls, rapid and yet rhythmically in time, again the sparking sound of magical energy and then the jolt of white throughout the darkness.

They moved as one, stepping between the orange pools poured forth by streetlights hung above. The night was both young and still, with an alien form of quiet pervading the city. It was that unique point in the evening, following the departure of angry commuter traffic, but before the night-time frivolities kicked into full swing, creating one of the few points of tranquillity in urban daily life. She led the mare beside her in an air of partial confidence, normally absent from her timid being and yet supplied by the presence of her partner. Walking side by side in their own bubble of each other’s company, surrounded by the semi-silence, they arrived before the broad-windowed front of a consciously low-key restaurant. The earth mare was suddenly hit by doubt. ‘How can you even suggest bringing her here’ her mind scolded her, finding itself floundering in a tide of inadequacy. However even as these invading thoughts began their assault she glanced and caught Fleur’s dazzling purple irises, with a smile playing across the unicorn’s lips in turn causing her heart, which had been sinking, to soar upward into the silver studded sky.

The savoury perfumes of rich spices, the clinking rattle of glasses and the murmur of conversation greeted them in unison. They were early due to her own unintended haste, caused by a level of subconscious nervousness, and made for the bar while the table was prepared.
‘What can I get you two lovely mares this evening?’ asked the bar-stallion with a wink, levitating a shaker and set of measures expectantly.
‘Erm...’ she found herself faltering for want of words. She was no good at ordering drinks anyway and the stallion’s manner had not helped.
‘Two Pantheres Rosé please’ Fleur stepped in, making the decision.

She felt herself blushing involuntarily, her gaze wandering in embarrassment to the mirrors behind the bar. This however turned out to be a mistake, as in them she found several sets of studious eyes bearing down on her from throughout the room. She felt exposed, almost feeling a physical force weighing her down through their scrutiny. A hoof fell on her already hunching shoulders and she turned to the violet, concern tinged face of her marefriend.

‘Relax, this is nice’ came the soothing voice. Then almost as if Fleur had read her mind she continued: ‘who gives a buck what they think.’
She felt another faint blush work its way across her face. It had not been long since they had first met, but already the pure white unicorn could read her like a book.

Fleur took a minute to think before she spoke again. ‘We’ve both been spending our lives hanging on the judgements of others. Each time I’ve had to pose for a damned photo-shoot, each time you’ve designed a new line of clothing and sent it down the catwalk, always its somepony else who’s decided what’s right, worthy or attractive.’ Fleur’s hoof remained on her shoulder as she listened to the unicorn’s heartfelt words. ‘I came here trying to get away from all that, to make a real attempt at finding myself, then I found you and everything seemed to feel… right. So buck ‘em. All that matters is what we think and personally I think you’re the most beautiful and talented mare I’ve ever met.’

For a third time in as many moments she felt a hot flush in her cheeks, meanwhile their drinks arrived, both a deep cherry colour and garnished with mint sprigs.

‘Here’s to us’ said Fleur, as they each raised their fluted glasses and brought them together.

The drink had the distinct flavour of strawberries, but was held back from being overly sweet by underlying citrus and base notes of gin. Quite simply, it was delicious and rapidly disappeared. She prepared herself to speak, but was cut-off by the arrival of a waiter.

‘Mesdames your table is ready upstairs.’

She let her mouth close as they rose to be led through the restaurant, which was beginning to bustle with customers, letting Fleur take the lead. Inwardly she marvelled at the air of confident grace with which the unicorn was able to carry herself, in spite of internally feeling as self-conscious as she did. Everpony wears a mask, making it immensely freeing to have somepony with which all acts can be dropped and a joyous privilege to have the feeling reciprocated. They were making for an archway in the room’s corner, apparently providing access to the floor above, when her marefriend in front of her somehow lost her hoofing. She darted forward to her side, catching the taller mare before she fell. The sudden commotion drew further viewers to the pair, joining the many judges already inquisitively looking at them, as they were frozen holding onto one another. She could feel every single one of the sets of eyes boring into them from all directions, however she did not care, being exactly where she wanted to be. ‘Buck it’ she thought and reached her head up, bringing her lips to meet her marefriend’s. Their kiss was tentative at first, Fleur being visibly surprised by the intimate action, but both quickly moved into it, eyelids contentedly closing as their tongues began to explore one another’s mouths, to the muted yet audible gasps of some of the other patrons. Reluctantly they withdrew from the passionate moment, all fetters and concerns beyond each other abandoned, but maintaining their embrace. ‘I love you’ she whispered as the taller mare at her side bent down and lightly nuzzled her neck.

Chaos reigned in Fleur’s being. ‘Okay keep in control’ she beseeched herself, feeling her heart rate and breathing start to kick into high gear as she panicked. ‘Freaking out is not going to help here,’ she continued, willing away her body’s urge to hyperventilate, ‘and it’s certainly not going to get you any closer to finding her. She wasn’t inside, you couldn’t see her outside,’ she made a mental tally, the act calming her in that it gave some kind of order or control back to the predicament, ‘so… maybe… she left?’ This thought did not entirely make sense, but maybe Coco had wandered out of the restaurant like she had, which would mean that she had possibly been taken away to hospital or… She suddenly became aware of the sound of movement behind her, but spinning round she faced nothing but the winding murkiness of the alleyway. Craning her neck forward, she peered into the mist rising from festering rubbish, crammed into bins to the point of overflowing, finding nothing. She took a pace forward, straining further into the rancid air, and this time a faint sound fell into her ears. Hoofsteps perhaps? A second stride made it no clearer, so she began to walk onward, feeling a sting in her lacerated hooves as they touched the flooring of damp paper and filth. The stinking clouds she entered buzzed with flies, causing her flesh to crawl with itching sensations, whilst her hearing was filled with the hum of their wing beats. She advanced further, intrigue combined with the vague baseless possibility of finding her marefriend driving her into the deepest recesses of the alley, where the straight path became a t-junction.

‘…so I said: pure nitro-glycerine without a stabilising agent! Are you crazy?’

A bubbly mare’s speech came from around the corner, followed by a torrent of giggles from both it and a second voice; as if what had been said was the funniest joke ever told.

For a third time the shadows were exorcised from her vision by a sparkling force but this time they remained held at bay.

A gruff stallion’s voice entered recognisably into the swirling amalgamation of sounds: ‘okay this one’s back with us, move onto the next.’

Coco’s mind unsteadily re-entered reality, at first overwhelmed by a barrage of agony from all quarters. A dull bruising permeated her whole being, as if every part of her had been brutally beaten, whilst in her head if felt like something was trying to drill its way through her synapses. Worst still however was the sore burning sensation which rippled across her chest. Eyes opening she sat up, forcing her reluctant muscles and joints to move, to find that she was sat on the rough tarmac of a street. All around her were a great many ponies: most being soldiers or medics moving rapidly about, but the rest were in various states of injury, laid out on the road like she had been. Dressings and disinfectant salves telekinetically flew through the air, along with various pieces of medical equipment, whilst elsewhere horns were charged with electricity, which was sent jolting into the hearts of unresponsive patients. Looking down at herself she found a small scorch mark where her skin had been singed raw, obviously the source of the painful fiery waves. Elsewhere she was criss-crossed by bandages and small adhesive patches, with red marks showing through their padded surfaces. She was hurt and hurting, but her wounds seemed to have been professionally dealt with, so the more important question was where was Fleur?

Coco raised herself to her hooves, pushing her pains into the background. Right now all that mattered was finding her marefriend. Rapidly she concluded that searching in amongst the surrounding frenzied mass herself would likely yield nothing and therefore she chose to approach a pair of armoured stallions, who seemed to just be stood to one side in idle conversation. ‘Pardon me’ she began.

‘Yeah darling, what’s the problem?’ replied the lead officer, his eyes visibly rolling over her body as he turned to look at her and spoke.

She resisted the feelings of angry disgust at being inspected by his gaze. ‘I’m trying to find a mare. She’s a bit taller than me, white coat and pink-striped mane. Have you seen her?’

‘Oh yeah we seen her. She was pretty cute wasn’t she’ he said, nudging his compatriot with a smirk.

With another great effort she suppressed a considerable urge to crack him across his jaw and continued: ‘where’d she go?’

‘Down that alleyway, although she a little out of it’ he answered. ‘Do you want us to help you find her?’ he asked, not bothering to hide a wink and further nudges to his friend.

‘No, thank you’ she politely managed, fighting through her growing repulsed rage as she pushed past them. ‘Buckers’ she growled under her breath as she made her way to the alley entrance. As she passed through clouds of insects, shaking herself as she felt them landing on and biting her back, she became increasingly sickened by the vast foetid lake she was walking through. ‘Why had Fleur come here?’ she thought. ‘How “out of it” was she?’ Worried questions playing on her mind, she realised she was following a set of hoofprints, standing out scarlet amongst the brown sludge. Immediately she charged forward through the gloom, reacting to anxious terror striking her, to reach a junction at its end and then rounded the corner.

Her heart stopped beating and all she could do was stare. Lying on a bed of putrescence and bloody organs, spilling forth from a jagged hole running the length of her barrel, was Fleur, beautiful face twisted in a lifeless contortion. From further cuts, roughly scored across the unicorn’s skin, flowed a stream of red, staining her perfect white coat, whilst on the wall above her broken and discarded body was scrawled ‘Royalist Whore’ in the same shade of splattered crimson. Coco collapsed to her knees; feeling lost as she looked into the gleaming and now darkened purple irises. She broke down, head falling into the crook of her love’s neck, sobbing into the cold flesh.

‘Aww, now we have to change the sign’ came a strangely high-pitched voice of disappointment from behind her.

‘Hold on to your hooves, I’m about to be brilliant,’ replied a second sickly-sweet tone, ‘we just need to add an S to it.’

‘Okie-dokie-lokie’ agreed the first, bubbling over with relieved excitement.

Coco slowly let her neck turn. The last thing she saw was two pairs of eyes, one set azure, the other pink, gleaming out at her from beneath matching dark blue hoods.

Loss

Dust and dirt, the ground cracked under the sun’s weight of rays, stretched forever into the distance through a bowl of red cliffs. Everything shimmered with a haze of heat, giving the already sweeping landscape an ethereal or dreamlike look. But any artwork, no matter the height of its creator’s skills, loses its lustre if stared at for too long, just as a favoured piece of music obsessed over for months can become tiresome overnight. Suppressing eventual thoughts of improvement are inevitably impossible and successively we always look to where or how the grass might be greener.

Boredom had long begun its work obscuring the view’s finely sculpted contours, instead highlighting innumerable invisible imperfections, but at the same time she was trapped by it, the oppressive noontime sun making any action a hardened chore. All she could do therefore was remain seated in her captured spot of shade, a merciful oven as opposed to its surrounding inferno, stewing in a fine coat of her own sweat and inertia as the interminable waiting continued. It was not as if there was anything better to do anyway even if movement had been possible. Appleloosa was a great many things, but interesting was not one of them.

In every direction lay fluffy fields of cloud, a billowing white seabed beneath the clear ocean of the sky beyond. All that may have existed far below lay somewhere invisibly beneath this blanket; masked and hidden from view. Here was a seamless limbo between the floor and the ether, itself inhabited only by the bodies of celestial giants. What those at ground level saw was an ever-changing tumult of weather patterns, focusing on every infinitesimal change, as a pegasus however she had the privilege of this unseen perfection. This space was unchanging, but at the same time its view was never marred by this fact.

She banked lightly in her flight, allowing an extended pale brown wing to pierce the outer layers of the foam and spin a fluffy spiral around her feathers. Like spray following a calmly breaking wave, small airy plumes followed her passing wingtip in ripples. There were no real currents at this height, adding to the tranquillity of the setting, instead the wind running down her flight-suited form came from her speed as she soared onward. This said however the rapidly passing world was caught in stillness, as if she were not moving at all but floating in a single spot. She felt content.

‘Oi Misty snap out of it’ yelled the voice of her rainbow-maned leadpony, cutting through the roar of white noise which enveloped them.

Misty Fly begrudgingly permitted herself to turn to her fellow flyer, re-righting in the process, surprised, but not pleasantly so, by the fact that it was for once Dash acting as the reminder that they were up here for a purpose. As one they ducked down into the upper quilting of the clouds, dropping into the cover of the foggy sheets. From here they could peer through to the earth beneath without themselves being seen. Below was the sharp landscape of the Foal Mountains’ snow-capped peaks with cave entrances and spidery paths just visible to their scanning eyes. The ridges and crevasses of the range were certainly desolate, far beyond any sizeable population, but with this came an imposing form of majesty. They slowed almost to glide, making a sweeping patrol over the craggy surface. Nothing, then more nothing and then microscopic forms appeared, slowly walking a fine trail. The line of ant-like ponies huddled against the cold in navy cloaks, hoods pulled up defiantly against the weather, making their way through an ice-filled gorge. Misty turned again to her leader, pointing out her discovery and receiving a nod in return, Dash’s keen senses having also picked them out.

‘Well looks like the reports were right for once’ Rainbow half-grinned. ‘Plus we won’t be weighed down by lugging any of this junk back with us’ she continued, roughly knocking her wingpony’s saddlebags.

Misty winced back from the impact, hearing the clink of vials from within. ‘Careful! You know how unstable this stuff can be!’

‘Whatever’ Rainbow scoffed, visibly repressing an urge to do a chicken impression, ‘best drop the lot at any rate. With any luck we’ll lure out any roosting bat-ponies and won’t have to search the caverns either. Race you down!’ she yelled, dropping immediately into a nigh vertical nosedive as she spoke.

‘Applebloom where y’ hidin at? asked her sister’s familiar accent.

Applejack’s intended receiver let the question hang in the air unanswered. It was a minor rebellion but a mildly satisfying one nonetheless.

‘C’mon y’ silly filly I know y’ just tryin to worry me.’

‘Quit y’ fussin I’m comin’ Applebloom bristled, hating the title of ‘silly filly’ with a vengeance, somehow made more annoying by the incessant heat. She stood up slowly, wanting to neither leave the limited shelter of the shade nor make any movement unless it was absolutely necessary, with the added mild satisfaction of making her sister wait. Stepping from the shrouded oven into the bright furnace beyond, she found Applejack clinging tightly to her own patch of shadow, still looking wrong in the absence of her trademark hat.

‘I thought I told y’ t’ keep an eye on the clock’ Applejack semi-seethed, ‘the train’ll be here soon.’

The younger sister sighed, not rising to the incentive to create a full blown argument. That would take so much effort that she could not be bothered to muster. Instead she gave an acquiescent shrug and then a nod, coming into line beside the older earth mare as they set off down the main street.

Quiet, deserted and still, not unusual bearing in mind the baking the town was receiving at the hooves of the midday sun, yet still eerie. The only shapes making the exertion to show that the place was not in fact dead were the glittering forms of soldiers acting as guards or on patrol. Their golden shells sent reflected light burning in all directions wherever they strode, looking like miniature shooting stars as they marched to and fro. ‘They’re here for everypony’s safety’ was the line usually used to explain their appearance everywhere, but their constant armed presence was still unnerving. Were they really necessary, particularly in a rural backwater like Appleloosa? The sisters found themselves forced to pass by one of these stern-faced groups, stepping in time in the opposite direction with spear points raised skywards, and Applebloom dropped her eyes trying to look anywhere except towards them.

A chocolate coloured earth stallion stood alone in the midst of a gang of gold-clad protectors, stumbling over muted words being reciprocated by coldly blunt mouth movements on the part of those that surrounded him. Her deaf gaze moved on, meeting a wall of purple irises all staring into her. The smiling visage of Princess Celestia was now as ever-present as her loyal forces, to be found on every street corner or in every building in posters and portraits, stoical yet caring wherever it was placed. ‘Better Together’ read the print coiled around the barricade of smiling alicorn heads on backgrounds of rising suns beneath cloudless heavens. Even where the paper faces were marked by dirt they still shone out, calmly watching over their domain. Celestia bore with her a mother’s look, much like that which had often decorated Granny Smith’s face. Finally hard boards clacked beneath their hooves as they stepped onto the dusty platform.

A storm of dust and snowflakes rose to meet her with each slowing wingbeat as she lightly hovered, touching down on the battered slope. Hooves came to rest on scorched earth, stark black against the surrounding powdery white. What encompassed the landing zone was a mess of craters, with acrid smoke rising from their softly smouldering depths, and crumpled shapes dotted amongst the broken chaos.

‘They never saw us coming’ Misty noted absently.

Rainbow nodded. ‘Reckon they were heading in there?’

Misty glanced, following the direction of her leader’s forehoof, her bright blue irises falling on a cavern entrance, itself set in a cliff face covered in charred impact points. She shrugged, considering the unmoving darkness within with no inclination to investigate further.

Not waiting for a real answer Rainbow made for the cave. ‘Let’s get this over with’ she muttered, mirroring her partner’s own unspoken apprehension as they entered the inner shadows. ‘It’s probably nothing but I’m not taking any more flack for not being thorough.’

Applebloom was again left staring into the emptiness of the middle-distance, following the tracks’ straight route across the baked-solid sands so far as to make the ground’s curvature clearly visible. It was an impressive sight, just like all the others in this artificially elongated day, but equally like the rest made deficient by overexposure. At least she was back in the shadow, ensconced under the platform’s awning, which was a delicious reprieve following the fiery gauntlet of main street. A light breeze had even chosen to pick up, thankfully removing the air’s staleness, even if at the same time it made breathing dirty through stirred dust. The crimson of imperial pendants, set flanking each of the station’s corners, fluttered in the soft wind, looking fluid as it ran through invisible currents.

The sisters shared the planks with a few blank others, equally moulded as mute statues by the shaded kiln, as well as stacked hillocks of luggage and cargo awaiting departure. Even with these settled populace however, the station remained distinctly empty. There were not many reasons of any form for a journey into the badlands, explaining the popular absence and the vacant expressions of those choosing to be passengers to nowhere. An elderly unicorn mare, turquoise mane paled by silvery grey ripples, coughed into her forehoof, succeeding the abrubt noise with violent expletives muttered under her breath. Everypony stood on edge, carrying with them a roughened visage.

A distant shriek, sharp as lightning, sounded far-off, heralding the end of tiresome inertia. Looking in the sound’s direction a darkened plume rose over the horizon, the second harbinger of the approaching train, its smokestack creeping into view above the yellow earth. Applebloom could not help but let out a relieved sigh, even though she was well aware that soon this would only mark a change from being bored waiting for the train to bored waiting in a carriage for its departure and then arrival. For now she would let her spirits be lifted, however briefly, and helped her sister in shouldering their luggage.

Where there had been a faraway shrill wail there was now the drowning rumble of thunder, rhythmically rising from the rails. Fresh sharp cries erupted from abused breaks, splitting ears with their tortured screams, as a fog of dust and steam rushed in to envelop the platforms. When this haze fell the dark engine materialised from within, hissing at its onlookers. Where there had been stillness chaos now reigned, as one hoard of passengers and freight leapt from the carriages, whilst a second smaller swarm tried to force their way on. The frantic blur of barely organised anarchy passed in an instant and Applebloom was swiftly propelled through the teeming mass, appearing in the foremost carriage opposite her sister and beside a window, with their bags stowed safely above them.

Their steps echoed to fill the gloomy tunnel, whilst their eyes struggled to pierce the space, irises becoming black as pupils grew to consume them. Mind tricks played on the edges of their vision forming grinning fangs and glowering faces from the stonework, whilst the running wind whistled between the ceiling’s stalactites, conjuring forth plaintive howls.

‘Buck this’ Rainbow swore, breaking the foreboding tone, ‘there’s nopony here.’ Even as she spoke however her ears twitched searchingly forward. ‘Hang on. Did you hear that?’

Misty heard nothing, but before she could say as much Dash had disappeared, galloping headlong into the shadows. ‘Wait!’ Her shout rang out, following her down the tunnel in pursuit. Almost immediately her progress slowed to a careful crawl as the floor became a minefield of fractured and fallen rock, obviously felled by their earlier assault. She picked her way forward, constantly re-checking her hoofing on the unstable surface which tried hardest to trip her. She rounded a corner and was met by an alien brightness at the end of the un-illuminated cave. Approaching the light through collapsed boulders she exited into a single vast crater, formed from a flattened cavern.

‘What were you even doing here anyway?’

Dash’s cracked voice was carried to Misty’s ears on the light gusts flowing around the jagged bowl, although its elusive speaker remained unseen.

‘Come on stay with me Shy. It’s not that bad. It’ll all be okay.’

The voice had gained a degree of feared desperation, whilst snow had begun to fall into the newly created crevasse.

‘No stay with me! Stay with me!’

Desperation ruptured into terrified cries and then ceased altogether. Misty stepped through the debris, gravel and ice crunching beneath her hooves. A streak of stark red, cutting a laceration across her route, caused her to falter in her tracks. Evidently the cave had not been entirely deserted when they had hit it. Dark smeared rocks paved her continued path. ‘Rainbow?’ No answer met her question. ‘Rainbow?’

A blue-suited shape sat crouched and bent over as it clutched a second pale yellow form, body shaking uncontrollably. Pink hair spilled amongst a rainbow mane which surrounded it, as if to guard it from the harsh greyness of surrounding the stone.

‘Rainbow?’ For a third time her question hung in the air, whilst she reached out to tap her leader’s shoulder.

A darkness passed before Misty’s vision and she found herself knocked over, back falling against the hard ground. Bolts of pain shot through her head, radiating from its back to sting her eyes and blur all site, whilst she could feel a bruise rising on her cheek. How did that happen? Her back felt cold and increasingly wet.

‘It’s all our fault!’

Rainbow’s voice seemed far away, indistinct and almost muddled, much like the swirling sky Misty found herself staring up at. Her forehooves went to her sides as she tried to get up, but found that she could not move. Confused eyes glided downward. Protruding through gaping punctures in her chest were a quartet of stalagmites, stained scarlet by the same fluid that was now spilling across her torn flight suit. ‘Oh’ was all her mind managed.

‘Shy… I’m so sorry.’

The darkness of the caves was returning to encroach upon Misty’s vision. Meanwhile feeling ebbed, including the pains she had been suffering, at the same time as the few lucid cares and concerns which had managed to surface within her. She was calm and floating, rocks becoming pillows and chills being lost to the wrappings of a warm quilt. The world faded. She was content.

As the train finally pulled from the station, quickly establishing its relentless pace, Applebloom’s gaze passed through the pane to watch as the world was flung away behind them. Beyond them was the unknown.

‘It’ll all be okay sugarcube’ the older sister said, although it was unclear to who the reassurance was actually addressed.

Orange eyes retreated from sun-scorched mountains and sands, meandering between rocks, passing back through the clearness of the carriage’s window and then closed lightly into blackness. The day had been long and now all she wanted to do was sleep the rest of it away.

Friendship

Hypothetical legions marched and clashed across the flattened face of Equestria, as defences and opposing banners rose and fell in an ever-shifting convolution of battle lines. Twilight Sparkle frowned as she surveyed the map spread out on the ancient table before her, finding that her force of Lunar Guard were now under the threat of encirclement. Strategy was a new field of study for her, but one like so many others before it she intended to conquer, the cordon of open and annotated tomes surrounding the fields of her mock campaign attesting to her determination.

Dull approaching hoofsteps sounded faintly in the silence, only made audible as they were amplified in the vaulted emptiness of the library beyond the private study. The main doors creaked open in the near distance and the steps resonated in the domes of the room’s ceiling, developing into two distinct sets coming closer, accompanied by a pair of voices.

‘Congrats again on the promotion by the way’ came the recognisable accent of Ditzy Doo to her unseen compatriot.

‘Thanks, but it’s not really an advancement,’ answered a familiar and yet not quite identifiable stallion’s voice, ‘more like glorified guard duty.’

‘Aww come on it’s not that bad. I know that looking on the bright side isn’t always your strong point, but try and give it a go for once. I’m sure you and Twi will get on great and you’ll probably be spending ninety percent of your time in here so it’s not like you’ll be bored. You’re as much a bookworm as she is’ Ditzy giggled.

‘I guess…’

‘Plus if nothing else the uniform suits you.’

‘Cheers Ditz’ said the stallion warmly, as their steps stopped just outside the study’s ajar doorway. ‘Before I forget, I got these for you and Dinky.’ The words were followed by a rustling of paper packaging. ‘Sorry they’re not muffins.’

There was a clatter of armour, likely the stallion receiving an unexpected hug and attempting to remain balanced. ‘Thanks VC, I’ll see you later.’

Twilight listened as Ditzy departed, hoofs again echoing and then oaken doors closing behind her, but just outside her room the second pony did not move. She listened as he drew in deep breaths, as if preparing to run a race, then three rapping knocks struck wood. ‘Come in.’

Recognition was not immediate as he entered, her visual memory being thrown off by the guard tunic and steely shell which had been absent when they had first met, but quickly dawned on her. The pair of blood red eyes she now faced, which she knew in spite of the helm currently concealing most of its features from view were set in a dark grey and black-striped face, struck a chord of familiarity. He had been there during her night-time departure from Canterlot, along with Ditzy, although she had not seen him since. ‘Hi again, it’s been awhile.’

‘Yeah erm… hi’ he began uncertainly, seemingly disarmed by her address. ‘Reporting for duty ma’am’ he saluted, re-discovering speech through official norms.

‘What?’ Initially lulled into an elevated sense of security by his lack of it, she now was rather taken aback.

It was now his turn to suffer the mild shock of her words, confusion being written across what little of his face was visible. ‘I was ordered to report to you as your bodyguard slash adjutant.’

‘What?’ Twilight found herself repeating her question. One: why had Luna not told her about this and two: why did she need a “bodyguard slash adjutant” anyway?

Silence descended between them, growing evermore tense until he chose to break it: ‘well this is kinda awkward.’

‘Yeah’

‘I’m sorry’ he apologised without any real cause. ‘I’ll just stand outside or whatever and I promise not to bother you.’ He started to back out with ears fallen flat against the crimson embarrassment glowing around his helmet’s cheek guards.

‘Wait’ she said, feeling a small pang akin to guilt when faced with his retreat. He was obviously as unsure of this whole situation as she was, but with the added pressures of proscribed duty and the sense of being the responsible party. At any rate she should try to make the best of this, at least until she could query Luna on what was going on. ‘Since I assume you’re supposed to stick around would you mind playing the part of the Solar Empire in this?’ she asked, gesturing over the map table strewn with counters and dice. ‘I reckon I’ll get more from the exercise if I’m strategizing against somepony other than myself.’

‘Yes ma’am.’ His gaze came back up to meet hers, his eyes having thrown themselves to the deck to stare at his own forehooves.

‘Can you stop calling me ma’am. You are allowed to call me Twilight you know.’

‘Sorry’

‘And enough with the sorries as well.’ It was beginning to feel like every other word he said was an apology. This was not truly annoying, but rather caused a small part of her to senselessly self-reproach.

‘Sorr…’ the word caught in his throat as he realised what he was saying.

She could not help but let out a laugh at this, raising a hoof to her mouth in an attempt to stop herself, however instead of a second uncomfortable flight which she expected in response from the nervous stallion, she instead received a tiny smile and nod in return. He now properly entered the room, circling the table so that they faced each other, removing his helmet as he did so. Again she found herself grinning. The sheer volume of his mane as it fell out of the heavy helm, creating a cascade of chaotic striped spikes, gained a certain comedic value through the seeming unfeasibility of its container.

‘It’s a far better show seeing me try to get it all back in again.’ He had obviously noticed her reaction.

The entirety of Equestria stretched between them, as Twilight began a rough explanation: ‘I’ve been told that this is supposed to be a bit like chess. Have you played before?’

‘A little.’

‘Well I’ve been using a mix of these two rule sets’ she said, levitating a pair of large tomes and a scribbled sheet towards him, ‘with a couple of alterations. You’ll also probably find this book useful, along with these notes I’ve made, this quick reference guide and list of possible successful objectives for each side. Oh I’ve also been using dice to determine events so you’ll need a set of them as well. I’ll reset the board while you take a look through that and…’ Twilight paused for a moment and realised that the one she was talking to had disappeared, almost entirely buried under a mountain of paper and parchment, neatly capped by a bag of dice. ‘Oops sorry.’

‘All cool.’ He excavated himself from the pile, selecting some of the many sheets and began flicking through them.

The two armies were again set in motion, separating and moving to occupy independent sides of the table. They were then broken down further, marshalled by an authoritative purple aura, into their various unit types, huddled together with their kin in the anticipation of fresh combat. Whilst preparing the board Twilight continued to talk: ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but you’re a zebra right?’

He looked up briefly from his skim-reading. ‘Half.’

‘And the other half?’

‘Night-pegasus’ he replied bluntly.

This explained his certain ‘off-ness’. She took a moment to get a better look at him, whilst his focus diverted entirely back to the pages. His stripes certainly said zebra, but in the absence of any bat-like wings the other side of his lineage was not immediately visible. Then it struck her: his eyes and teeth. In place of the rounded pupils, normal of other ponies, his were feline slits adapted to be nocturnal, whilst in his maw sat rows of jagged points. She had to admit that it was a strange combination of features. Questions about parents and other topics vied for position in her mind, but then she became aware of something far more fundamental. ‘I just realised I don’t know your name.’ His irises darted up from the text; somewhat set on edge by what she thought was a simple query. ‘I heard Ditzy call you VC?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What’s it short for?’

‘Oh… it doesn’t matter, VC’s fine.’

She paused, not needing to be particularly perceptive to see that she had struck a nerve, although it was not clear why, and she decided not to push it further.

‘Okay I think I’ve got an idea of how this all works,’ he broke into her contemplation, ‘how should we start?’

‘The Empire’s in the dominant position, so you should get to set up then I have to be reactive.’ She watched as VC began, carefully lifting each piece in turn he moved methodically, starting at the various towns and cities by placing defences and then assigning garrisons. Afterwards his concentration moved gradually outwards, layering his forces to cover one another. Her opponent was a walking set of intriguing contradictions. On the one hoof his form carried an anarchic air through the chaotic mess of his mane and the tail which mirrored it, along with the dark bands which criss-crossed his body, but all his actions were controlled and maybe even overthought. At the same time there was an intrinsic aggression in his features, such as his fangs, but all she had seen of him was a quiet closed nervousness. He was like a book which felt unsure about the idea of opening, in spite of or perhaps because of its cover, a trait made all the more apparent as he laid out all his pieces in an attempt to make his position unassailable. Looking over the hardened defences she already knew this was going to be a tough campaign.

There were very few moments when Silver Lightning regretted being a pegasus. Since his first flight all the moments he could spare, and a fair few that he could not, had been spent in the air. Flying was his paradise; it had been all he had ever really been good at. Performing mock stunt shows before friends and family had rapidly morphed into competing in every field he could enter, from simple races to aerial acrobatics, always pushing himself to go further. Summer flight camps, then the academy and now he was a Wonderbolt.

‘Ow! Be careful you idiot!’

His wings had given him everything, but right now, as he struggled with the intricacies of pulling thorns from the side of his increasingly aggravated leadpony, he could really appreciate how helpful a bit of magic could be. It would have been hard enough to succeed in the delicate task on stable ground; however both he and she were perched on branches near the top of the forest’s canopy, making it nigh impossible.

‘Hurry the buck up will you!’

Her foul mood was not helping much either. From the moment they had touched down on the edge of the woods it had steadily got worse and it was now near breaking point, causing him to flinch in anticipation of a hoof to the face with every wrong move he made. Finally he had the last barb between his teeth and slowly drew it out, careful not to form a hole in her flight suit’s fabric. ‘All done’ he said, relieved as he spat the needle like object away from him.

‘Took you long enough. Thanks though.’

A mass of flaming hair caught him in the face as his leader turned back round to face him. Everything about Spitfire was lit by the threat of fire: from the burning of her amber eyes, to the chaos of her yellow and orange mane and most especially her temper. He attempted to make his face go blank, not wanting to incur her already well-stirred wrath for any unseen reason.

‘Sweet Celestia I’m sick of this crap’ she began.

Internally he let out a calmed sigh, thankful that her anger was now once again focused outwards at the world instead of towards him. Outwardly he nodded in total agreement.

‘Roosting in trees like damned bat-ponies, having to march for miles for the sake of secrecy’ she continued to hiss. ‘Celestia I hate walking!’

Lightning continued to nod. He was well versed in how much she hated walking; in fact he had been made repeatedly aware of how much she hated walking with every step they had taken getting here. He did not mind the complaints however, as he knew exactly how she felt. It was not the distance or effort which bothered an athlete like her, but rather the pace. For those such as them, who spent their time in a constant quest for their next personal high, being forced to slow down for even a moment was a living nightmare. Even if he had not been on the same wavelength he still probably would not have minded listening to her, after all there were few better ponies to be stuck in a tree in the middle of nowhere with, particularly bearing in mind what lay over the immediate horizon.

The usual symphony of silence played amongst the library’s stacks, its melody broken only by the intermittent flutter of turned pages, forming a steady background tempo. The vast room’s sole two inhabitants, apart from the innumerable colonies of spiders nesting amongst the rafters, sat centrally on its floor, foregoing the inadequate space provided by the great many tables or desks, but spared from the chill of the stone slabs by the expanse of a large rug. They were both settled within a closed circle of finely bound pages, which created a high redoubt around the pair, amongst the organised carnage of their collective efforts. The biographies of Equestria’s early generals, accounts of great battles and tactical treatise, all from the age before harmony and studded liberally with bookmarks, vied for territory amongst notes and writing equipment. As per usual Twilight’s chosen research topic had grown into an obsession, except this time her obsessiveness was shared by that of her compatriot, with each improving as they aimed to best the other in mock combat. She briefly broke from the present tome she was perusing and selected a fresh notepad. All things considered it was peculiar how rapidly the enforced nature of their company had become indistinct and rather slipped into the bounds of normality instead, further smoothed by simple competition. There was increasingly less of a sense that he was there at Luna’s behest, although a level of awkwardness still occasionally crept in, inevitable due to his character and the professional nature of the association. A series of knocks sounded to exhume the two of them from their mirrored activity, each instinctively rising to their hooves in response.

‘It’s okay, I’ve got it’ VC said, carefully stepping over the battlements of literature.

She sank back to her haunches. If anything she expected it to be some piece of officialdom. Few ponies came to the palace’s library for anything else, which was unremarkable bearing in mind the present state of play, but at the same time seemingly surprising in the space which acted to banish all true conflict at its door. It was a strange form of bastion in spite of the realities of the world around.

‘Erm… Twi,’ VC began, having returned from his foray, ‘there’s somepony here to talk to you.’

Initially she was confused by his lack of detail. He would normally announce whoever it was, meaning that he either did not know or did not want to say. She again rose; crossing over the ramparts, but then was forced into stillness. Violet eyes searched pink across an empty gulf. A unicorn and a pegasus stood motionless like opposing pieces on an all but empty chess board: one a castle, methodical and regular, and the other a knight, filled with aggressive ability, but both left statuesque in their adversary’s gaze. As if unsure of whose turn it was the two of them gingerly moved forward, mirroring one another in a recoil at their joint action, before allowing their hooves to pass the small separating distance. The void gradually sealed, like stitching closed a wound, until the two were in a tight embrace, hanging on as if at any second they could be sucked back into the abyss there had been between them.

‘Twi I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.’ Rainbow Dash’s voice came as a shadow of its raucous self, thinned and muted, only capable of repeating its select few words, as if seeing itself as worthy of nothing more.

Twilight simply held her tighter in response, neither needing nor desiring any explanation of her friend’s appearance and only wanting to forget any separation there had been.

‘Soarin says they’re on their way’ a pegasus muttered from below, delivering the message ferried on a chain of voices through the dense foliage.

Lightning nodded his affirmation, the action instantaneously breaking the relative calm which had developed amongst the surrounding branches, as the squadron rapidly readied itself. All preparations were by now entirely mechanical and his body moved through them with little coaxing input: re-shouldering his saddlebags, checking each harness strap and finally lowering his tinted goggles. His actions were mirrored by all those around him, only partially visible in the dimness of the under-canopy. The weight of his bags hugged his middle, being a double aggravation through their heaviness and the way they ruined his air form. What was the point in the discomfort of wearing their flight suits if any speed gained was lost through what they carried? Far worse however was the metaphorical ball and chain which had to be worn on his lower foreleg. He raised his fettered limb, pulling tight each of the braces which held a spiked leg guard in place. Loathing was not nearly a strong enough term to describe how he felt about the implement, which simultaneously managed to get in the way, make him unbalanced and again add unnecessary weight. It was not as if he had any use for it, not having had to draw it in the past and in truth doubting its efficacy in any case. The blades just sat there, malevolently shackled to him. He was a flyer not a fighter.

Then there was silence, although inside the quickening drumbeat of his heart was fast rising in tempo as it boomed in his chest. Spitfire gave him a grin. This was that sacred instant when the body dumped the first load of adrenaline to flood its systems, causing every muscle to coil spring-like to attention. His leader’s lips moved, mouthing out the countdown. ‘Three. Two. One.’ Everything was at once in motion, a single wingbeat catapulting him through the branches. He shot upwards, easily crashing through a blur of green and into the clearness of the sky beyond. Close behind followed the rest of the squadron, shattering the outer canopy in a series of mushrooming plumes of swirling leaves. They chased one another vertically, but as much as they would have preferred to have raced ever onwards into the clouds high above, they knew they had to stop and break into a hover. Three swarms of pegasus met in the breezy gulf of the ether. Two faced each other, Lightning and Spitfire alongside their squadron opposite their counterparts led by Soarin and Silver Lining, whilst between them huddled a broken formation clad in purple. The Wonderbolts and their subordinates looked like a massive set of pincers, ready set to close around their prey. The trap had been sprung.

‘You are surrounded and outnumbered,’ Spitfire shouted, the sparks of her voice carrying clear across the expanse, ‘so I suggest you surrender.’

Lightning smiled to himself. She was of course right in her appraisal as per usual, with their combined forces being almost double the surprised enemy sortie, and if all went smoothly they could be back home before late afternoon.

‘Buck off!’

He sighed, the angry words deflating him utterly, before coming to the shock realisation that he recognised the voice which had defiantly yelled them. A similar confused look passed first over Silver’s and then Soarin’s face across from him, both staring searchingly into the cluster of surrounded pegasus. ‘Rainbow?’ The question formed soundlessly in Soarin’s mouth, creating both syllables a mere split second before a multi-coloured streak shot from the central group and hit the lead Wonderbolt. At the same time a purple tide followed suit, shouting battle cries as they stormed forward.

‘Bucking traitor!’ Spitfire screamed leading her own charge into the battle and closing the blue-suited noose, meanwhile Lightning just followed dutifully at her side.

Hard boards pressed up against Twilight’s muzzle, whilst the harsh scent of ink began its offensive against her nostrils. Her eyes opened into consciousness and were immediately faced by a wall of books, evidence of escapist nocturnal study before fatigue became overwhelming, whilst beneath her lay sheets of scribbled parchment dappled by the smudges of fallen tears. She raised her head from the angular pillow of the table, immediately regretting the decision as the dull ache of her previously settled jaw was overruled and replaced by a sharp twinge shooting through her spine. The fresh pain darted from the top of her neck to run the length of her back, as each of her joints was forced from their long set positions. She grimaced, feeling herself involuntarily tensing, and then relaxed once more, letting it all ebb away. It was then that she realised that she was wrapped in the snug folds of a blanket placed about her shoulders, without any knowledge of where it had come from. Further thoughts of solutions to this riddle were interrupted by the sound of snoring just beyond her ears’ reach, faintly entering the room through the shining cracks around the study’s doorway.

She raised herself to her hooves, letting the fleeced cover fall from her to the floor, and carefully approached the ajar portal, stepping through pools of light thrown into the darkened space from around its edges. Lightly pushing against the door, she let it swing outwards to the room beyond. Now peering between the well organised ranks of marshalled shelves, her sites fell on cluster of cushions set before a low desk, in which an unmistakable grey and black shape was sprawled, sunk deep into the already well-squashed pillows. The writing surface itself lay strewn with books, notes and a stack of used mugs, all hinting at a prolonged attempt to ward of sleep on the part of its user. For how long had he tried to remain awake? Technically it was his job to be at her beck and call, but there were limits to this. It had been quite a while since their first awkward introduction and she was well used to him hanging around, to the point that he sort of faded into the background, rivalling any palace guard. Was it bad that she had kind of forgotten about him? A small feeling of guilt certainly thought so, her mind producing images of herself leisurely working and then sleeping in the other room whilst he unknowingly fought against unconsciousness to wait on her. But then there was still the unanswered question of the blanket. It did not help that they had not really talked at all in a while, her own seclusion being far more inviting since…

The sound of VC’s heavy breathing changed its tone, becoming a gaping yawn as his limbs writhingly stretched and eyes opened tenderly, before snapping into focus. He immediately leapt to his hooves in startled dutiful movement, jolting himself to attention. ‘Sorry I drifted off ma’am’ he began.

Twilight shook her head, pushing away both the address and the needless apology; the tired stallion’s saying it only acting to cement a sense of responsibility. She had no desire to return to the overused black recess of her study, but at the same time the unbearable quiet which fell between them acted to repel her like a barricade. It was a fractured limbo which had to be overcome. ‘Do you fancy a game?’

Lightning trailed his hoof listlessly through the soft floor of grass and ferns, which carpeted the clearing in which he now sat, staining their stems as it passed. Instead of his saddlebags a wide bandage embraced his middle, far in excess of the few scrapes that it covered. A shape nudged his shoulder.

‘How’re you holding up?’ came Spitfire’s warm voice beside him.

‘Fine thanks, although you didn’t have to use every bandage in existence to bind me up.’

‘How about a bit more gratitude; do you have any idea how much someponies would give to have me play nurse?’ she laughed lightly before turning back to serious. ‘Then why the long face?’

He could only shrug, remaining sunk on his haunches. The blades on his forehoof, now well cleaned, glinted in the early afternoon sun, sending rays into his frowning face. His body ached slightly, but this was not because of his minor wounds or tiredness following the preceding exertion, rather he just felt weary.

‘Come on, you did good back there’ she said, as if reading his mind, giving him another reassuring nudge.

‘Thanks but…’

‘Look we came, we got the job done and now we’re gonna head home’ she continued. ‘There’s nothing more to it than that.’

‘How’s Soarin?’ he asked, thoughts going to their most serious casualty.

‘She did a real number on him that’s for sure. He’s probably gonna be upset that his pretty face is all messed up, but it’ll heal and he’ll live, which hopefully is more than can be said for her’ she spat.

He nodded. What little he knew of Dash came from various rumours of her abilities, which she had certainly shown to be true earlier, having previously only met her in passing, but by all accounts she and Spitifre were supposed to have been close. He finally turned, meeting the gleaming fire behind her amber eyes.

‘Today was pretty bleak and hay tomorrow will probably be more of the same, but what’s important is what comes after that, once everything’s back to normal. That’s the finish line which counts, and if we’ve got each other’s backs and keep going we’ll get there.’ She held out a hoof and he bumped it in return. ‘Race you back to camp!’

Spitfire’s wings extended and she leapt into flight, Lightning quickly on her tail. His heart was lifted with him and his mind allowed to float like the surrounding landscape of clouds, as the two pegasus broke into a sprint across the sky. She was right as usual. Doing what he loved in good company made everything else secondary. It mattered little. He revelled in the moment, feeling the wind ripple along him and letting the rush permeate his entire frame, as they flew side by side, each pushing the other ever onwards.

Fate, guided by the etched surface of rolling trapezohedra, continued to smile down on the army of the New Lunar Republic as they prepared their assault on the imperial capital. Through artful ambushes and a staunch refusal to hold territory they had suitably weakened their enemy’s numbers, so much so that they now felt confident enough to engage in pitched battle. It was entirely without glory but nonetheless effective. Now only the impregnable defences of Canterlot stood between them and the victory they craved. The anticipation was palpable, waiting only on the commander’s order to set the wheels in motion.

‘Your go Twilight.’

On cue the assault troops moved forward against their first obstacle: a palisade swiftly constructed by the defenders to bar all access to the city. Waves crashed against the barrier, caught in a storm of opposing magic, boring into the line to break it inward. Under the sheer weight of concentrated numbers a crack was formed, becoming an ever deepening and widening rupture as further units poured into it. It was at this stage however that the Empire released its airpower, a hoard of pegasus alighting from hidden positions to scream down on the attacking ground force. The charge bogged down under increasing casualties, success or failure being in the balance of who could control the skies. The Shadowbolts, kept in reserve for this very purpose, were therefore thrust into the fray against their light blue-uniformed counterparts.

Twilight paused, the counter she had been in the midst of moving left hovering in front of her face. In reality the two sides were nothing more than various scavenged or improvised coloured pieces, only differentiated by scribbled labels affixed to them. The one floating in her telekinetic aura however had been further personalised with pictures of a smiling winged skull and a lightning bolt, which together numbed her actions. Small as they were, the sketched images were a far too potent reminder of the rainbow-maned pegasus who had placed them there mere days before. Tears were not forthcoming, as if she had already expended her entire supply, but the painful heart which accompanied them held no such reservations.

‘Whatcha waiting for’ VC began, confused by the lull in combat, before realising its obvious cause. ‘Oh. Do you wanna stop?’

Twilight gestured in the negative with a shake of her head. This had been a nice change of pace and a light form of escape, but in one instant the agony of reality had intruded once more. She remained frozen.

‘For what it’s worth I’m sorry.’

Unlike with so many of the grey stallion’s previous apologies she could not bring herself to shrug or speak this one away. It was substantial, bearing with it something akin to concern but warmer. There was real care in the words, which many might have called alien or impossible bearing in mind the jagged maw which spoke them. ‘Who do you have as friends and family?’ she found herself asking and then being surprised when her reserved opponent answered.

‘Friends are few and far between, as here I only really know Ditz, although that’s quite a long story. In terms of family I’ve got a younger sister, but it’s been an age since I’ve seen her and in truth we have very little in common anyway.’

Her thoughts went to her own brother. How long had it been since she had seen him last?

‘I’m Vicious Cycle.’

‘Pardon?’ She was pulled from her thoughts by the strangely unprovoked words.

‘My name, it’s Vicious Cycle. You’ve put up with me for long enough, so the least I can do is tell you what VC stands for.’

The internal dictionary of Twilight’s analytical brain immediately began processing. Vicious Cycle: noun, meaning a reciprocating process by which two or more negative elements exacerbate one another, causing continuous degradation. She frowned.

‘Yeah it’s not particularly nice’ he said, agreeing with her look. ‘Equally it doesn’t make for particularly easy introductions.’

‘If you don’t like it why don’t you change it?’

He shrugged. ‘It may be unpleasant but it’s mine, plus it’s a pretty accurate descriptor. At the same time…’ he paused picking his words. ‘A spiral coils in both directions, it’s up to us whether we follow it up or down, although putting it like that sounded a bit deeper than I intended’ he joked with a small honest grin. ‘To most I’m just VC anyway. Names are always personal, mine’s just a little harder to share.’

The still hovering piece was allowed to come down, resuming the much needed counterattack. Pegasus formations met and danced to the sound of cascading dice, securing victory for the Republic’s initial skirmish. Marching hooves plunged into the city’s streets, sweeping aside a scattering of continued futile resistance, coming to a stop beneath the palace’s walls. The final adamantine rampart was in time breached by patient siege, its stony faces broken through, with defenders left bare behind. Twilight and her defeated opponent shared a smile, both ultimately victors.

Victory

The act of falling is a strange kind of magic. Like a witch preparing a hex, a fall stalks us, whilst we remain all but oblivious until it strikes. We can be nothing except passive victims, the fall itself is inescapable. In falling we suffer a fundamental change of state. From an upright position of relative control we descend, if we are lucky only suffering injuries to our pride or authority, but more often than not the damage is also far more physical. A fall is therefore a furnace in which one cannot help but be burned, hopefully to emerge as a stronger alloyed material or else be destroyed utterly by the flames.

These thoughts and others ran through Twilight Sparkle’s mind as she fell. Cliché as it seemed to her, the world around was moving in slow motion. ‘This is possibly a bodily response to the realisation of its own mortality’ she reasoned. ‘As the threat of death approaches the body accelerates its synaptic responses,’ she continued, feeling a pang of regret that she would not be able to investigate further, ‘brought about as it attempts to experience as much as possible before the end. Strange that the mind should turn to such mundane things as studies and experimentation at a time like this though. Is it that we are incapable of conceptualising death because it lies in total antithesis to the rest or experience, or are we so set in our denial that we feign escapist ideas until the very last moment?’

Damp tunics clung to damp fur, creating the dead weight of a second pelt, made so by a mix of sweat and the incessant drizzle, which drummed a metallic cacophony of their outer skins. All pains from the march through the dense forest were lost, subsumed by anticipation as it swam between the golden ranks. Nopony spoke, nopony moved; merely the entire armoured mass dutifully remained at attention, gazing forward towards their purpose. Gleaming Cavalier stood as one of the faceless multitude: but one officer, in one unit, in one division of the grand army arrayed at the border of the clearing. Rain dripped lightly from the peak of his helmet’s nose guard, adding a shine to his already silver coat as it ran unpleasantly down his muzzle; however he could not move to wipe it away. Before his force he would not break rank and so he was motionless with the rest, waiting for the coming order.

Ahead lay the ancient seat of the Equestrian royal family, now a towering mountain of decrepitude, its spires reaching high above the woodland’s canopy towards the sullen sky. The palace sat on its own island of rock, separated from the rest of the Everfree by a sheer ravine, creating a deep scar in the surrounding earth, with all access bridges broken on the pit’s floor. This act by the defenders had complicated things, but their opposition was futile. Cavalier scanned the nopony’s land between the chasm’s edge and the outer walls of the ruin, picking up the movement of hooded figures amongst the rubble, repeatedly having to force the site of small broken hooves lulling out of the brickwork from his vison. His mind focused on the issue of tasks to come, knowing well it was easier that way. ‘They’re defensive positions will make the crossing difficult,’ he thought, ‘so move quick and pray to Celestia that the pegasus provide decent cover.’ He tried to visualise his future actions as he continued: ‘their positions are set in rows, so high risk of enfilading fire and…’ A pair of emerald eyes glinted out at him from the ramshackle bunker he was inspecting, immediately striking his internal voice dumb. Screaming rang in his ears, accompanied by the conflicting scents of iron and antiseptic, whilst a yellow face looked pleadingly into him. His hoof, clad with blades, came down again and again, splashes of crimson coating his foreleg, as the bloody odour became overwhelming. ‘No don’t think about it’ he ordered himself, breaking his own rules by shaking his head in an effort to regain control. The cries subsided, the green irises had disappeared. ‘Think of your oath, it’s your duty. You were just acting under orders,’ he struggled, ‘there was nothing you could have done. After today it’ll be over and then you can go home…’

‘Forward!’ came the little heard celestial variant of the Canterlot voice, drowning out the steady percussion of water droplets falling on armour.

The dams of held breath and restless reflection burst forth as everypony roared their battle cries. Cavalier yelled with the rest, turning to his soldiers, their backs straining against the weight of a siege bridge, and signalled the charge, breaking into a gallop towards the crevasse. Within moments they reached the obstacle, the distant shore becoming lit up by the burst of landing magical fire and the flash of horns as shots were reciprocated from the ruins, and the rough wooden crossing was hauled across the gap. The first of his force lowered their pikes, held in sconces at their sides, and plunged into the breach, forming a rapidly moving phalanx of spear points. He joined the second wave coming in behind the assault troops as they crossed the planks, to the thunder of heavy hoofsteps on wood, the sound being amplified as it resonated through the chasm beneath. However as the first formation touched down on the far bank, they suddenly disappeared in a plume of flames. A torrent of further explosions ran through the tight ranks filling the bridge, flinging some soldiers over the precipices at its sides, whilst others were simply consumed by the hot orange light. Cavalier instantly hit the deck, burying his head into the knotted and splintered surface. He felt the rush of air as the blasts passed his prostrate form, somehow leaving him unscathed, and he quickly returned to his hooves. Peeling away from their bombing run, a pair of winged pony-like creatures, decked in dark navy, pulled back into the sky where, instead of the tidy royalist formations he had expected, he found a separate battle was being waged. ‘So much for air cover’ he thought.

The bridge lurched violently, flames licking its quickly charring wood. No time to think, only time to act. ‘Get off this thing now!’ Cavalier yelled as he called power into his horn and enveloped the crossing in a silver aura. His soldiers obeyed, limping or dragging their fallen comrades off either end of the bridge, whilst it continued to lurch and strain. Finally he was left alone on the failing structure and, forced to dissipate his magic in the process, galloped towards the safety of solid ground. Ten steps separated him from his goal, then nine, then eight. The crossing began to bow in its centre. Seven steps, then six, then five. Cracks formed in the planks as joints began to fail. Now only four steps, then three, then… The bridge gave way, snapping perfectly in two. For a moment he was left suspended, as if floating in the middle of a lake, but then he was descending, falling into the shadowy jaws below.

Wisps of dust were stirred up from within the cracked surfaces of ancient walls and from the great hall’s rotten eves in which they had long been settlers, to fall in trails like smoke with every rumble which shook the room. The Princess of the Moon looked out over row upon row of solemn faces, filling the space beneath the drifting snowflakes shaken loose from the ceiling. Her mouth and tongue worked in unison against her inner tide, calling forth confident words of victory, glory and sacrifice, as she addressed the assembled crowd.

‘It’s all your fault.’

She continued to speak, markedly unaware of what she said, but desperately trying to hide the betrayal of hollowness in what she spoke.

‘All the blood is on your hooves and you only have your own self-serving ambition to blame.’

As the Lunar Princess concluded her final address, an officer stepped forward from amongst her assembled guard. ‘My queen, please make your escape. We can hold off the whoreson tyrant…’

‘You will not refer to my sister in such terms!’ Luna bellowed, sending the soldier back into the ranks with ears and bat-like wings lowered shamefully. As the loyal officer retreated her heart hung heavy. She had already asked so much of them, yet still they served without question and begged to sacrifice themselves in her place. ‘No,’ came her voice, authoritative but softened, ‘half of you will provide cover to the ground force, whilst the rest will escort the non-combatants to safety through the caves.’ Further mouths opened to give protests, but she silenced them: ‘you humble me with your continued cares, but I will not hear your objections. When my sister arrives I must face her to buy you all time. I am honoured to have known each of you and my love goes with you all.’

Luna watched as the ranks of devoted ponies, the happy few that she had been able to call friends in her mostly nocturnal existence, reluctantly departed.1 She felt a small shape nuzzle into the side of her neck and, without needing to look to see who it was, she extended her wing, wrapping it around the perfect creature’s body and drawing her into a tighter embrace. Her eyes closed as they curled around one another, creating their own cocoon of warmth, as each nestled their face in the others’ coat. Soothing waves washed over her as she deeply breathed the familiar scent, lifting her to float on a calm sea. It was just the two of them drifting together in the centre of a tranquil ocean, far from all land and beyond anypony’s reach. She had no desire to move, more than happy to remain settled in the protection of the meadows of velvety fur, but she knew she had to. Unwillingly she separated from her partner, remaining close as she turned to face the deep violet irises of the purple unicorn she had been holding. ‘Twi…’ Luna began, before being silenced as a set of lips stole all the words from her mouth. Eyes once more fluttered shut in pure contentment, but she had to resist falling into the depths of the kiss and drew back. ‘Twilight,’ she began again, attempting the hardest speech of her life, ‘you must go too.’

Twilight blinked, not truly taken aback by the instruction, but rather requiring a moment to absorb its meaning before she could reply. ‘No.’

‘You must’ Luna insisted, the corners of her vision distorting at the first threat of her tears. ‘You have given up everything in your support of me. All I have done in return is fail, both Equestria and more importantly you, achieving nothing except painful chaos. But I refuse to be the cause of any more hurt.’

‘No you… we haven’t failed and I’m not leaving you’ Twilight insisted, drops beginning to fall from her own eyes to mirror her marefriend.

‘The times we have shared have been the greatest moments in my life,’ the alicorn continued, barely able to maintain the vestiges of her stoical composure as she stumbled over her rushed goodbye. ‘With you I’ve finally felt free, the shadows which have long stalked me being excised by the merest thought of your affection.’ Luna summoned magic into her horn. ‘I love you.’ In a flash of blue light Twilight disappeared, her final mouthed words being simply ‘no’, as she was teleported against her will.

‘Buck!’ Cavalier swore violently, forehooves going to his head as he was wrenched into consciousness. His eyes shuttered open, filled with a fluid double image of the world. High above ranks of golden ponies forced their way across the abyss in which he now lay, whilst beyond that the sky was a chaotic mass of pegasus formations fighting for dominance. He realised that he must be on his back and rolled onto his stomach, taking several seconds to blink the blurring from his vision before rising. The surface on which he found himself was a rough stone ledge, jutting out from a cave opening, set in the chasm wall on the palace side. Although his spine felt as if it had been trampled over like the siege bridges above, he was very lucky not to have fallen further. ‘Buck it’ he muttered as, faced with either sheer cliffs or a bottomless pit, he entered the darkness of the cavern.

At first he stumbled over every bump and hole in the uneven floor, his eyes taking their time to re-acclimatise to the inner gloom, but soon the black haze receded, leaving him in the winding length of a tunnel. The silver unicorn huddled deeper into his clothing, as wind blew in at his back, ruffling any patch of exposed fur the wrong way. ‘Nowhere to go but forward’ he grimaced to himself as he continued, reaching a forked junction in the passage. With no better way of determining his direction he chose the right path. Further tunnels lead into more tunnels, divided ever more by junctions and crossroads. The labyrinth of passages, which he assumed must weave their way throughout the entire outcrop on which the ancient palace stood, seemed increasingly like an intricate web, with himself being the fly caught in its meandering strands. In his now considerably confused state he barely noticed the change in the walls’ stonework, transforming from cracked roughness to blocks of finely carved masonry. His mind finally twigged as he passed the first burning torch, illuminating an arched entrance to a large space beyond. The room he now entered was a considerable vaulted space, possibly a meeting area, with a trio of other exits leading from it. In spite of its grandeur, a layer of dirt coating the floor and the lack of furniture made it clear that it had not been occupied for quite a while. ‘Well where the hay do I go now?’ he grumbled, looking from archway to archway in annoyance. He was obviously in the palace now, but at the same time he was still very much underground, so therefore what he needed to do was head upward… somehow…

The rattle of hoofsteps broke him from his thoughts, his ears rousing themselves and scanning for its source. The sound was coming from one of the exit tunnels and it was getting closer. His mind, acutely aware of his isolation, flashed images of a variety of unpleasant creatures which might dwell beneath the nocturnal princess’ castle. He darted for the side of the portal, tucking himself into its corner, hearing the steps coming closer and closer until they were upon him. He struck out with his forehoof and was rewarded by a heavy clatter as something fell headlong into the room, landing in a heap. The creature wore the battledress of a Lunar Republican Guard. Layers of interlocking plates, adorned with a tunic of swirling blue waves, stretched down from its finned helmet and across its back, fully enmeshing it in an articulated exoskeleton. Its eyes were crimson with narrowed feline slits, perfectly adapted for nocturnal site, matching the crystal orb symbol inlaid into its breastplate. None of this was surprising, he had met Luna’s finest before. What gave him pause was its lack of wings, or rather those membranous things which had inspired the term ‘bat-ponies’, and the fact that those visible parts of its body were striped like that of a zebra, black banding standing out against its grey coat. He immediately regretted his inquisitive pause, having given the thing time to recover and rise back to its hooves. ‘Surrender!’ he barked, lowering his head and calling energy into his horn as he spoke.

‘Make me’ the creature snarled, conspicuously revealing the rows of jagged teeth which filled its maw.

Cavalier released a bolt of lightning, striking the ground just before his adversary and theatrically shattering a number of rocks. ‘Last Warning.’

The creature, unflinching, just grinned wider, its pupils thinning to become dark slashes bisecting its bloody irises. A stillness settled over the cave, neither side making any move to cross the few steps separating them. Suddenly the striped thing twitched. Cavalier instantly reacted and fired. His shot missed, the unicorn barely having enough time to realise that the movement had been a feint before a serration covered hoof impacted with his face, sending him into the wall. His body stung as it crashed against the stone surface, in spite of his metal shell, as he attempted to spit out the cloying taste of iron pooling on his palate. The beast rounded on him again, this time however he was ready and lifted both his hind hooves in a kick as it leapt forward. Each blow created an echoing clang as they hit its armoured barrel, forcing the thing to stagger backward. Both sides quickly found their hooves and charged. Roaring in unison they collided, each rearing up to meet the other as they descended into the honourless brutality of their melee. Bladed shoes scraped armour, showering sparks, or else found their mark, slipping between plates and biting the flesh beneath. They were quickly fighting in a red mist, consuming their thoughts and jetting from each subsequent puncture. The creature was vicious, lashing out wildly and even attempting to use its jaws, but at the same time uncontrolled, not bothering to defend itself from oncoming strikes. Relying on his considerable experience, Cavalier matched his opponent blow for blow, blocking some of the oncoming attacks and gradually wearing it down. This said however it would be wrong to call the encounter anything more than a brawl, only to be decided by who could sustain more injuries. Finally he was able to anticipate the creature’s coming movement, parrying its last attack and then as it drove its snout forward, aiming to maul his throat, he struck upwards into its muzzle, skilfully avoiding its neck guard. The beast collapsed, having its helmet sent skittering across the gravel in the process, in turn releasing the tangle of grey and black stripes which made up its mane, as it fell onto its side and coughed blood into the kicked up dust.

Victorious, Cavalier stood over the crumpled form, but all sense of triumph dissipated as he gazed on the defeated shape, steadily oozing drips of crimson onto the dirt floor. It curled up in on itself, looking like a small cowering animal, abject in its defeat and entirely at his mercy. At the same time without its helmet it was transformed, now clearly being a pony rather than the monster it had been moments before.

‘As the bearers of her light we are granted the power and heavy responsibility to exterminate all threats, by any means “necessary”.’ An authoritative mare’s voice entered his thoughts, demanding action.

He raised his forehoof, but the appendage would not follow through with deed, leaving him frozen. In his mind’s eye he could see strands of ginger mane hanging between his shoes’ blades as they dripped with scarlet ichor. ‘I can’t do it’ he found himself thinking. Again stillness as each party simply looked into one another. He lowered his hoof, instead threateningly surrounding his horn in an aura of energy. ‘Surrender; there has been far too much killing.’

The grey pony, which he assumed was male from its previous speech, remained quiet, seemingly considering his enemy’s words, whilst greedily gulping down air. ‘You’re… you’re right’ the striped stallion conceded, unsteadily forming speech in his bloodied jaw.

Cavalier felt relief abruptly rush through him, as the pony began to unfasten the blades from its forhooves. His body relaxed a little and became sorely aware of the great many cuts and bruises which now covered it. The pains were however tempered by far deeper feelings, becoming only slight and insubstantial. He had spared a life. The spiked weapons he wore, although still marred, now seemed somehow cleaner. If the thing, or rather stallion of some kind, he had just fought would pause before the brink, then maybe others would? Maybe there was hope and today really would be the end of this senseless conflict. These thoughts were broken by a simple movement from below him. Whilst his guard had been lowered by encouraged contemplations, the grey pony lashed out with one of its hind hooves, slashing across the unarmoured backs of his lower hind legs. Agony engulfed him as he felt pointed serrations tear through his flesh and muscles, causing him to sprawl forward. At once his enemy was upon him, kneeling on the back of his neck to hold him still with one foreleg, whilst out of the corner of his eye he saw its other descend. A sharp crack, like the sound of splintering hardwood, filled the air and his vision went white, as a burning from the centre of his forehead drowned out all other sensations. He found himself gasping for air with a sore throat, however if he had screamed he had not heard it. Still writhing in the flames, his vision returned and he found the traitor had again stood up and was reattaching his weapons.

‘As I was saying: you’re right, there has been far too much killing, but neither your death nor mine will change any of that.’

The voice coming from between its owner’s jagged teeth was chilling, but to Cavalier’s surprise there was an underlying sadness in what it said. Blinking through pained tears, his eyes moved from the creature to himself and a strangled cry escaped his mouth as he found the source of his pains. There, lying just in front of his muzzle was his horn, the ragged point of severance revealing the bone which had secured it to his skull.

‘You may well abhor me for what I am or what I have done to you. In either case you are justified. Maybe even your loathing goes far deeper and you believe in the cause for which you fight, but I doubt it from your most recent actions.’

Cavalier tried futilely to move, raising his body with his forehooves, but the rest of him would not follow suit. His hind legs lay limp behind him, totally immobile. More waves of pain wracked his frame and he collapsed once more. None of this was fair and at the same time utterly pointless. Now helmeted, his killer approached, cold red predatory eyes tinged a darker remorseful shade.

‘Please know that, although I have learned to hate the sun that you wear on your tunic and a great many of your kin who march under that banner, I hold no animosity towards you.’

The final impact came down unpityingly on the silver unicorn’s head. Again whiteness filled his vision, before fading to a hopeless all-consuming black.

The door splintered inwards, shattering into innumerable shards which spilled into the corridor beyond, violently showering the defenders who had been vainly holding it in place. Most were felled by the force, left with minds spinning from the shockwave and spluttering on the floor. Lances plunged through the smoke skewering those who remained unsteadily standing, causing them to slump limply onto the vicious spear points. The polearms slipped from impaled bodies, retracting to be replaced by striding golden figures. Restraining magic sprang from horns to surround survivors, whilst bladed shoes roughly checked corpses, kicking away any vestiges of remaining life, meanwhile a copious mass of plumage and sapphires filled the doorway. A line of prisoners was rapidly formed along one wall, mirrored by a firing line of unicorns, awaiting the commander’s perusal. The white mare simply walked between the two rows, stepping carefully around the red pools which littered the ground. ‘Officers to be detained for interrogation, execute the rest’ Rarity sighed, annoyed that she had to spell out the obvious order. Without turning round she continued forward, reaching a flight of stairs and descending, whilst behind a series of flashes were followed by wet slumping sounds.

‘This place is disgusting’ she thought, noting the spiders’ webs which filled ever corner of the downward passage. Although she appreciated the grand architecture of the palace, it was all decidedly past its prime and uncared for, allowed to fall into disrepair, as opposed to becoming a gorgeous example of antiquity. ‘Such a shame’ she considered, contemplating both the loss of grandeur and the present infestation which had to be cleared. Rarity and her retinue following close behind exited the stairway, entering into a rough circular chamber filled with makeshift bedding and edged by a series of further tunnel entrances. She moved and sat herself on the edge of one of the bunks, tiredly removing her helmet. ‘Fan out and search everywhere’ came her voice lazily, as she waved a hoof generally in the vague direction of the room’s exits. A simple ‘yes ma’am’ was echoed by those present as they filed out, leaving their commander to her lounging. Now alone in her thoughts she once more sighed, absent-mindedly straightening her headgear’s excess of feathers. Again she found herself in a dank hole, pursuing the enemies of Equestria in their retreat to their concealing darkness, so as to flush them out into the light. Her gaze went to her bejewelled armour. The perks and the power were still appreciated, but the activities had become stale. Absent was the rush of excitement which she had enjoyed.

*Cough*

The tiny sound appeared loud in the empty space, immediately drawing the mare from her thoughts. It had come from under the bed directly across from the one she was sat on and her gaze went to the place, discovering a pair of small yellow eyes staring out at her from the face of a grey unicorn filly. The foal shivered, her short blonde mane falling out of place, in a mix of cold apprehension. Rarity felt the twinge of recognition, followed by the realisation of possibility, a malevolent grin filling her inner self as she rose. ‘Dinky isn’t it? Do you remember me? I’m Sweetie Belle’s sister’ she said as she prowled forward towards her prey, masking her visage in a honeyed smile. ‘You look rather cold dear. Why don’t you come out and we’ll find your mother.’

‘Lonely little Luna.’

Seated alone on her cracked throne, left to decay more than a millennia before and now cast once more into darkness by her own actions, the Princess of the Moon nursed her temples as she awaited the inevitable. Eyes screwed tightly shut, running creases across her tension-filled face, she tried to turn away the predator that was stalking her.

‘Did you seriously believe that you were rid of me? I’m part of you.’

‘No you’re not and I don’t need you anymore. Begone!’

‘Is that so? Everypony abandons you, just like you deserted them to chase your own power-hungry desire. I’m still here though, watching over you.’

‘This had nothing to do with ambition, that’s your domain not mine.’

‘Really, so everything you’ve done has been to build your little “republic” and has had nothing at all to do those secret jealousies you still carry with you.’

‘Of course not! I am content.’ However, even as she thought the words, doubt crept in on her. Why had she thrown so much away and harmed so many in the process? Had any of it been worth it? What had she achieved and should she have succeeded what would have come to pass?

‘Forgive me if I doubt your sincerity. Not that it really matters though. In a few moments Celestia’s going to be breaking down those doors and then the best you can hope for is exile.’

A crater-marked expanse of grey dust surrounded her in all directions, nothing but silence pervading the infinity of surrounding space. Each moment was an eternity on that bleak surface, powerlessly made to look down on the land she was expelled from, whilst this time a second purple torment would slowly orbit her prison.2 The cage itself was not torture, but rather being forced to see all that she had lost through its bars.

‘That is, unless you let me help you.’

The floor was cold, making Dinky feel cold as she sat waiting for Mommy. Waiting was not fun. The ground around her was now a mess of drawings, sketched into the dirt with her forehoof. Beneath a sky of noughts and crosses lay a dense forest, ringed by mountains. In the centre she and Mommy sat on a muffin strewn picnic blanket, taking it in turns to blow clouds of bubbles from a small wand. She missed the picnics they used to take. It felt like forever since they had been able to spend time together, with Mommy being away so much and always being really tired when she got back. Maybe things would change soon and then she and Mommy could go home: she could help make muffins, they would both go out for picnics and everything would be better again.3

Dinky was now very bored. ‘Patience is a virtue’ was Mommy’s familiar phrase when she wanted a new toy and they did not have enough bits or when she was struggling to cast her first spell and only managed a few sparks. Being patient was still dull though. It was not just the waiting that was making her bored but the cave itself. She was sick of being down here, sick of the nasty food and sick of the scratchy beds. There were only a few other foals down here as well so she was often lonely, although they were all really nice. Sometimes she and the others would play hide and seek, although this often annoyed some of the adults so they had not done that in a while. Mommy said that it was safer for them to be down here, but she was still fed up with it all.

Mommy had had to go out quite a while ago, wearing her new purple flight suit and saddlebags, so Dinky assumed she was making deliveries like she had done back home. She frowned to herself as she thought about hugging her goodbye, hoping that when Mommy came back she would not be angry that she had not done as she was told. Everypony had been very busy gathering their things, then whilst Mommy and the other pegasus had gone out, she was supposed to have gone with the others and some of Luna’s special night-ponies through the caves. The Lunar Guard had been kind of frightening at first, with their strange wings, pointed teeth and weird eyes, but some of them were Mommy’s friends and they were all friendly. VC in particular; he had brought her and Mommy some cupcakes a few days ago. In spite of not being muffins they had been really good. She also liked the fact that he scared some of the other foals, his stripes and red eyes making him look kind of different from the other guards, so she got to look brave when she talked to him, although she wished Mommy would tell her his name.

A door slammed above, followed by the soft murmur of voices. Maybe Mommy was back and she could show her the picture. Dinky stood up and took a couple of steps towards the stairway, but stopped with a jump as an explosion shook the room and dust rushed in through the archway she had been making for. She found herself under one of the beds, not sure of how her body had moved her there, but also not wanting to move from the shadowy safety. More voices and then the rapid crack of energy, as ranks of golden ponies entered the room. A beautiful white unicorn seated herself, gesturing to the rest, who obediently filed out. Dinky held her breath, not wanting to make a sound, but even as she did so she felt a tickle at the back of her throat. Wincing with the effort to hold back the advancing noise, she watched the unicorn mare, wishing she would leave. Then, despite herself, Dinky coughed. A pair of deep blue eyes bore down on her and she found herself shivering as they chilled her to the core.

‘Dinky isn’t it? Do you remember me? I’m Sweetie Belle’s sister.’

Dinky remembered Sweetie from school, but she had never met her sister.

‘You look rather cold dear. Why don’t you come out and we’ll find your mother.’

The unicorn smiled and began stepping forward as she spoke. Dinky did not want to move, remaining motionless.

‘Come now dear.’

The fur on Dinky’s forelegs stood on end as they were enveloped in the unicorn’s magic and she felt herself being tugged forwards. She dug her hind-hooves in, attempting to resist.

‘Don’t be silly dear.’

Dinky cried out as she felt the glowing restraints tighten painfully, whilst the unicorn’s grin stretched further across her face. Panicking she struggled again and again felt the sore stinging where the magic held her. Despite her efforts her body was hauled out from under the bed. Those blue unblinking irises just kept staring into her, glinting somehow with an unpleasant light. Fear gripped her. She wanted her Mommy.

A mass of grey and black stripes hurtled into the side of the unicorn, forcibly extinguishing her magic. Dinky found herself released from the magical grasp, as the recognisable spikey shape of VC threw itself and its adversary across the room, toppling pieces of furniture in all directions in the process. She remained frozen in place on her stomach, whilst the two armoured ponies clashed amongst the pieces of increasingly smashed beds, dipping in and out of view like puppets in a theatre. Angered shouts, the sharp scrapes of blows piercing plate and the clashing of blades filled the air, as crimson splatters peeled away from the melee, landing like paint on the stonework. A face appeared briefly, as its owner fell onto its back, all glazed bloody eyes and jagged teeth dripping red, before in lunged forward. Cries of pain, a bright flash and the unicorn appeared, standing beside Dinky, with dripping punctures running down her barrel and a ragged bite mark marring the ivory purity of her neck. VC reared to his hooves, his own wounds standing out against his steely silver shell.

‘Dinky run.’

Three bolts of lightning darted from the unicorn, hitting the striped earth pony as he muttered his last two words. The first went through his kneecap, causing it to invert as the joint burst apart. The second impacted less spectacularly with his chest, his armour flexing inwards under its searing heat, whilst the gaping hole formed in the flesh beneath vomited an ichorous puddle onto the floor. The final shot struck the centre of his neck, forcing a blank stare into his eyes as it passed straight through and he keeled over.

‘Now, where was I’ the unicorn said, leering down at Dinky and wiping away the crimson ribbons running from her lacerated cheeks.

She arched her spine stretching out the many kinks which had formed in her vertebrae, before flexing each leg one after the other and then twisting her neck with an audible crack. It was as if she was rising from a deep sleep, with each part of her body needing to be awoken in turn. Muscles were tensed and un-tensed, feeling the satisfaction of movement, whilst anticipating activity to come. The light electric ripple of endorphins reached her back, causing her wings to shoot outward, quickly extending to their full length. The air in the hall was relatively still, but she sensed those currents there were, letting them satisfyingly run between her inky feathers. Each and every small sensation, from the cold rock beneath her hooves to the tickle of dust as it landed on her jet black fur, was an immense delight. Even her ears revelled in being uncovered, darting rapidly about to pounce on every sound they could find.

‘This isn’t right.’

A broad grin broke across her, gleaming out from the darkness of her face. She wrestled control over her tongue, before sending the chaotic organ gliding across her jaws, feeling the sharpness of each pointed fang in turn. All that remained was to test her magic. Turning, she faced the broken throne she had been seated on, letting a cyan glow pour from her blackened horn. The royal furniture gradually floated upward, spinning as if it were being held aloft on a single thread, and then was sent careening into the centre of the room. Splinters of carved stone flew outward in all directions as it impacted; meanwhile the jagged smile once again glowed, brightly illuminating her face.

‘Why must I always fall for your honeyed words.’

She turned her attention to the armour rack standing in an adjacent alcove, standing adorned with the shined silver plates of their battledress. The breastplate flew into place first, followed by an interlocking piece of carapace which ran from the top of her neck, to run the length of her back and down her sides in adamantine bands. Next came greaves and shoes, entirely encasing each of her legs. She admired the forest of spikes now protruding from her hooves, before finally raising and lowering the silver helm into place, carefully sliding it over her still glowing horn.

‘Please demon, don’t make us do something I regret.’

‘I said I’d keep us from banishment and that’s exactly what I intend to do’ she replied bluntly, enjoying the fear the conspicuously vague answer elicited from the one she addressed.

All at once each and every one of the room’s doors, from the ornate oaken panels of the main entrance to those accessing the myriad of side chambers, exploded, filling the space with a brightness to rival any solar flare. She snarled angrily at her unseen enemy, eyes screwed shut and wincing defiance at being forced into her unnatural element. Sensing the returning gloom her eyelids raised, gifting a view of her old adversary. In every smouldering doorframe stood lines of shining soldiers, creating a sharp fence of spears, with their solar princess herself, clad for war and with multi-coloured mane blowing wildly from the residual blast, towering above the assembled force at its centre. Both she and Celestia dwarfed everypony else, but that was where the similarities ended. The Princess of the Sun was a focus for adoration, whereas she created only abject terror. She could see it clearly written in the set stoical expressions circling the room, all their eyes darting to Celestia for strength, then nervously to her and then anxiously back to their princess. As she could not command their love she would revel in playing their villain, delightedly bathing in their fear and gnashing her fangs.4 Light and shadow will not co-exist. The appearance of one is the death knell of the other.

‘Stand down sister,’ Celestia’s voice broke authoritatively into her thoughts, ‘this ends now.’

‘I am not your sister!’ she roared in reply, summoning thunder to crack behind her bellowing voice.

‘So this is all your rebellion amounts to then?’ Celestia sighed sadly. ‘Again you succumb to selfish ambition, only this time using lies to drag others into your nightmare.’

‘No Tia, I’m so sorry.’

‘If only’ she smirked darkly. ‘Had I been given control long ago we would have fared far better. My weak reflection lacks the stomach for conquest, being so caring as to be sickening.’ She spat, adding emphasis to her speech.

Celestia’s words now became pleas: ‘please sister, if you can hear me, come back. Please come back.’

Cackling, she drowned out the princess’ begging. ‘Adorable, simply adorable. The loyal sister to the end.’

‘Let her go before I force you out.’

‘Oh I doubt it without the elements and your tin soldiers are hardly an adequate stand in.’ She opened fire in a volley of lightning, striking out at each of the lance-wielding ponies present. A split second before they hit, each bolt impacted against a glowing wall sent up by Celestia. Again she allowed herself to laugh, enjoying how they flinched in dread at her assault.

‘Commander, pull your forces back,’ Celestia conceded, ‘they can do no more good here.’

Whilst the Solar Guard departed in wordless obedience, she indulged in further waves of satisfaction. Truth be told, the soldiers may have become a slight hindrance and their withdrawal would only make this easier. The two demigods stared into one another, neither twitching nor blinking as each envisaged actions to come. They began to move in opposition, together walking a slow circle of the room. Eyes glided over the armoured forms of their opponents, searching their carapace and bodies beneath it for all their strengths and any weakness. The pair’s slow purposeful breathing carried loudly between them, as they both came back to their starting position and stopped.

She fired first, conjuring a hail of icy shards and casting them to extinguish her shining enemy. Celestia responded in kind, easily avoiding the deadly shower, whilst summoning forth glowing spheres of magma. The ground around her burnt red with scorch marks, but the dark creature like her competitor was able to dodge such simple missiles. Together they now formed a maelstrom of blurred movement, each dancing between downpours of charged sparks. They fought through veils of stirred up dust, rising like fog from the floor, meanwhile their powers resonated like the shouts of black and angry clouds. Their rainfall now became true lightning, veiny meandering lines of energy striking past one another through the storm. None hit their mark, more often striking the room’s walls and shattering them outward. A fierce wind blew up into the high hall from the canyons surrounding its plateau, clearing the billowing haze of dirt. She and Celestia stood once more where they had begun, manes flapping wildly and panting in the eye of their tempest.

‘Give up!’

‘Never!’

‘Stop!’

Opposing horns pulsed with building power, as each poured their all into a final blast. Beams erupted forward, crashing together and ballooning into a ball of energy. Amber and cyan struggled for dominance along the crackling streams, forcing the orb in one direction and then in reverse. She bound her dark will to her magic, face twisting into a writhing grimace, pushing back the surging tide to force it against her foe. Then the dam finally burst, sending waves to crash into the Solar Princess. At first the world was gone, consumed by the burning whiteness of the explosion, but as it returned the Princess of the Sun lay sprawled, whilst the nightmare stood triumphant on a backdrop of a stormy Everfree, the entire wall behind her having been blown out by the shockwave. ‘Goodbye Celestia’ she snarled, set to deliver the final blow.

There was a small purple flash beside her, to which she could not help but turn. To her delight, she now faced the violet form of her second nemesis. She would destroy both the princess and her ‘faithful student’ in one fell swoop. A fearful concern played across the unicorn’s face. ‘How delicious…’ her cruel thoughts began, before being snuffed out by a gut-wrenching pain. ‘What? No. I hate Twilight and…’ her mind tried again in vain, ‘and… and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.’ Her body contorted, agony shredding every nerve ending, as she screamed all the air from her lungs.

Luna’s body felt heavy. Straps and buckles bit her joints, pulled downward by the weighty plates they supported. The feeling was made doubly worse by the pressure of tiredness, as if all her energy had been forcibly stolen from her. Her eyes opened from the blackness of night into a vision of downcast Twilight. The unicorn’s face was a mess of worry, winding furrows across her brow, with deep violet irises agape in tender fright. To merely look on such a visage pained her deeply and the knife was twisted in the thought that she herself was the cause. Her weariness became secondary and she made herself into a warm smile, thinking on and wanting only to excise the troubles from her partner. She succeeded. The brightness returned and they rested in their eternal moment. But it was only a moment. Twilight suddenly glanced to her side and then threw herself into Luna, knocking the taller alicorn from her hoofing to the floor. She could only stare as the perfect unicorn’s magic ignited, throwing up a shielded barrier, which was in turn shattered by a ray of pure amber light. The amber glow continued its journey, punching into Twilight’s chest and hurling her backwards, whilst red droplets peppered Luna’s face.

She awoke roaring her loathing against all creation through a predator’s fangs. Nothing else could dwell within; only bloody hatred painting red the stars, now aglow with the light of funeral pyres. Wrath drew out the scythes of her wings, forcing her into flight. Vengeance sent her forward, straight and true, bladed hooves outstretched towards the subject of her abhorrence. Loss numbed every shot as it passed through her. But blind rage was never enough and her wounds soon caught up with her, sapping both strength and momentum, even as she willed herself onward. Her body sagged, her wings failed and then she was again soaring, although this time beside Twilight, as they were both thrown through a wall by a final explosion of light.

The pegasus charged through the never-ending network of tunnels, blonde mane and tail billowing around her, as if ignited by the lightning bolts adorning her purple flight suit, along with the faces of smiling winged skulls. Her goggles lay lost somewhere far behind, having hampered her already hindered vision and been abandoned, for they mattered little right now.

‘She was with us, but she disappeared a while ago and VC went to find her.’

‘Oh muffin, where are you?’ Ditzy thought as she galloped onward, one yellow eye nailed shut to give its partner a better chance of focus in the rapidly moving world around her. Her saddlebags flapped emptily beside her as she made her way through the confusion of passageways, scanning every nook, cranny and crevice for any sign of her grey filly. She was granted nought but the continued horror of nothingness in return. Fatigue ran its claws across her tired body, burning through all its reserves to maintain her momentum. The second skin of her suit clung disgustingly close to her frame, soaked in rapidly chilling sweat, whilst every muscle screamed for respite. But none of that mattered. She would not stop, nor would she rest.

A whimper, faintly carried on the cavern’s still air but just audible, entered her ear. Ditzy may not have been very good at many things, her lack of aptitude in flight and speech being those most commented upon, but where her body had failed her in some areas it excelled in others, including her sense of hearing. Her ears instantly homed in on the noise, ordering her body to close the distance between her and it as quickly as possible. The spaces became familiar, giving her her bearings beneath the castle, as the source of the sound was drawn closer and closer. A recognisable archway to one of the barracks sat before her. She slowed to a crawl, creeping in the shadows towards the illuminated entrance.

‘Now the best possible thing you could do for yourself dear is tell me where your mother is.’

Ditzy recognised the voice, filling her with a thick sense of dread at what lay within. For a moment her normally unsynchronised irises came together in united function, beholding the inner scene in the sharp clarity of purpose. A white pony stood with its back to her, wearing the garb of the Solar Guard, with violet hair falling from its unarmoured head and down its back. In the air before this soldier floated Dinky with her four hooves circled by light blue magic, visibly wincing and crying from the painful restraints. The pair were centred within a sea of dilapidation, made up of broken and upturned furniture. Every part of the devoted mother bade for blood, shouting furiously for action and retribution, but the enemy was obviously a unicorn, so with extreme effort she held herself fast.

‘You know dear, by not speaking you make yourself as guilty as the rest of them’ came further words in a refined tone, whilst a pointed section of fractured board was flown ominously up from the debris field towards the helpless foal.

She had to act now. There had to be something she could use. Out of the corner of her vision, in the blurring periphery, was something gold and blue. Her left eye swung round to find a discarded helmet, standing out amongst the wreckage. Ditzy moved calmly forward on the tips of her hooves. With no real cover in the room she could only hope to move silently. ‘It’ll be okay muffin, just don’t react’ she thought, willing her filly, who she knew was facing her, not to reveal her presence. She reached the helm, gripping its flaring neck guard in her mouth, before turning back towards her adversary.

‘Why don’t you be a good little filly and tell me what I want to know.’ As the unicorn continued to speak clusters of splinters and barbs broke away from the piece of wood, moving to fly in increments towards the flesh of the similarly hovering prisoner. ‘Otherwise…’

Ditzy crossed the last remaining steps which separated her from her target. She looked into her foal’s tear-streaked face, itself with eyes closed in fear. ‘It’ll be okay muffin.’ She raised the armoured headgear and brought it crashing down on the unicorn’s skull. There was a crunch, accompanied by a shout, then the white pony toppled over; rolling onto its back, and then Ditzy fell upon it. The metal of the improvised bludgeon scraped against the vice of her teeth as she smashed it again and again into her enemy’s face, each time with a resounding wet crunch. A red lake began to form, sprayed outward with each heavy impact and staining the helmet’s increasingly bedraggled feathers, but she continued until the last gurgling sound and flailing of hooves ceased from below her.

Dumping the mangled implement without a second regard she sprang to her filly, immediately enveloping her in a hug and holding her close to her heart. ‘I’m so sorry muffin, are you okay?’ she asked as she hurriedly checked every inch of the small grey unicorn for injury.

At first all Dinky could manage was ‘mommy’, repeating the word over and over as she reciprocated the tight embrace. The foal then pulled away from her mother and pointed into the wreck of the room. ‘Mommy… VC?’

One of Ditzy’s eyes followed her filly’s forehoof to the crumpled form of a familiar earth pony, almost indistinguishable amongst the destruction. She swung Dinky onto her back, feeling the foal hang on and nuzzle into the back of her neck, as she walked the few steps towards her friend’s broken body. Ignoring the pool of blood surrounding him, she knelt down and gently pulled off his helmet. A pair of crimson eyes rolled into focus, meeting her own.

‘Hey Ditz,’ he rasped, working against the regular gushing pulsing from his neck, ‘is Dinky safe?’

‘Yes, she’s fine.’

‘Good’ he said, giving a small relieved nod. With some effort he lifted a hoof. Her own forehoof stretched out to meet it, catching and bumping with it in familiar camaraderie. ‘Now I guess I should say some meaningful last words or something,’ he laughed, spluttering as his tongue tried not to drown in the river of red running from his mouth, ‘or else reveal some great secret I have carried my entire life. Pity I’m not that interesting.’ His face pulled itself into a jovial grin, but she could clearly see the terror creeping at the edges of his blood-soaked eyes. ‘Well here goes. The past is immaterial. Where we come from doesn’t matter, rather all that counts is what we are, what we can be and what we have yet to achieve. Yeah it’s a tad cliché I know, but it’s the best I’ve got at such short notice. See you round Ditz…’ his words trailed off, as his irises rolled downward and his hoof slipped from hers.

‘Mommy?’

‘It’s okay muffin’ Ditzy replied, reassuringly arching her wings to create two walls of soft feathers around her filly, whilst at the same time hiding the act of pre-emptively wiping away tears before they formed. For now she would remain strong. ‘See you round VC’ she whispered, spinning on the spot and making for the tunnel from which she came, breaking back into a gallop as she went.

Twilight felt the air rushing past her, forcing her ears flat, as it moved from her head to her outstretched hind hooves. She was upside down, the updraft of wind along with the crimson smears cutting stripes across her violet barrel confirming this. The hole in her chest gasped wide, having sliced through layers of fur, skin and musculature, blood rhythmically leaking from around its rough burnt edges, showing the depth to which she had been punctured. Strangely the dripping wound did not hurt, a small mercy, rather what she felt was an increasingly damp wetness as the red fluids ran upwards in rivulets, quickly losing their heat. A second similar feeling was centred on her withers and worked its way to spread across her back, revealing that the cavity bored its way fully through her being. Breathing was hard, as if some unseen grip was steadily constricting her insides, although again this was surprisingly painless. A soothing blackness was beginning to claw at the edges of her vision. Each deep breath out was followed by a shallow one in, deflating her as she continued her artificially slowed dissent.

Her gaze panned downward and connected with a pair of pale azure irises staring back across the whistling whirlwind between them. Luna’s mane whipped wildly in the wind, creating a waterfall around her shoulders, whilst the constellations which covered it, the princess’ proudest creations, slowly faded. The navy strands of hair lapped at the wings in whose embrace Twilight had frequently lost herself, now hanging limp and useless, with feathers being ripped out in tufts by the pitiless buffering of the air around. Flight: the living embodiment of freedom, that airy liberty, had been torn from the dead appendages and their owner.

A dark blue hoof, stripped of all armour and ornament, extended across the ether. A purple one extended to join it and their pads met in a final caress. Their eyes remained locked together as the world around them, the sky fleeing behind them and the ground charging up to devour them all clouded over, becoming indistinct. All that remained was the pair of them. ‘I love you’ each mouthed in perfect harmony with the other, as the deafening roar reached its crescendo. At least they were together.

‘Get out!’

The Palace Architect fled the Privy chamber, leaving a scattered storm of victorious window designs in his wake. Other attendants took their cue, hastily vacating the room, and the Princess of the Sun found herself alone, save for the occupants of the four shrouded coffins which kept her company. Each box lay on a squat dais, draped in black cloth and sapping all light from the world around them. Absent-mindedly she approached them, drawing back the first’s sheet. A mess of colours burst forth from a bright blue face, surrounded by a messy rainbow mane, facing skywards with eyelids lowered. A golden winged lightning bolt hung on a ribbon about the pegasus’ neck, seemingly out of place on one who had turned traitor, but marking proud service laid down for the Empire. She frowned. How she loathed that title, quickly chosen to symbolise unity and now marred beyond any possible cleanliness. Yet Equestria suited this new world even less. She drew back the second to reveal a pure snowy visage, ringed in carefully coiffed purple, but also covered in innumerable wounds which shone through a plastering of reconstruction, in total opposition to the one before. A glinting reflected from the marshal’s baton nestled beside the ivory unicorn, whispering of command, honours and tradition. Her frown deepened, her face being assaulted by thoughts of the many dark acts performed in her name. Loyalty and Generosity: both lying as if in blissful sleep, but their fur’s lack of lustre revealing the reality. If her agents were to be believed Kindness lay in a similar fate, just another one of the innocent fallen, whilst Honesty was lost in self-imposed exile and Laughter ran rampant as an ever more tainted version of her former self. The broken pieces of harmony fell scattered by the divisive hooves of her and her sister, and for this she would never forgive herself.

Celestia turned to the next in the wretched row and faltered. She knew well the violet form of her pupil which dwelt within, with her hair combed neatly into place and forehooves set at her sides in a cruel mockery of restful life. Tentatively she pulled aside the fabric and gazed in, shuddering as she traced the chest wound she had inflicted, still visible in spite of the mortician’s careful stitching. The Element of Magic did not, as some believed, symbolise its existence full stop and the powers of unicorns and alicorns alike would persist in the land in spite of its death, but rather stability in such energies presence. What would come to be in its passing, along with its kin, could only be guessed at. These were but fleeting thoughts however when compared to the crushing loss she felt, looking down on her victim. She had killed her student, her faithful protégé, but more than that she had murdered the closest thing she had had to a daughter. In the prolonged absences of Twilight’s true parents, she had more played the part of the doting mother than simple tutor. In her mind’s eye she could see the filly the young mare before her had once been, looking up in trusting awe, perhaps waiting to learn a new spell from her mentor.

Only the final coffin remained covered and it took all her strength she could muster to move each leaden hoofstep towards it. It would have been easier had it been the leering demon awaiting her beneath the sheet, but she knew it was not so. There was no beast entombed within, only a dead sky, trapped in alien stillness and devoid of all stars. Twice now she had failed her sister, the first time being blind to her feelings and this time deaf to her council. In each case her ignorance had placed them on a collision course. It was she, not Luna, who had spawned the creature of blackest bile and hatred, letting it loose to break and contort the purity of the younger alicorn. She was the older sister and should have been the night mare’s keeper. Celestia finally moved the shadowy covers, gazing on her own flesh and blood, butchered by her own hooves. Her eyes drifted back to Twilight. The student’s grand achievements had far exceeded the master’s. When the nightmare had returned from its millennia in banishment it had been the pupil’s power which had been her sister’s salvation and then the pupil’s love which had drawn the poison from her darkened heart. The feat had been repeated a second time before Celestia’s own eyes, as she herself gave in, firing that fatal shot. She looked at the two of them, bound in both affections and ends. What had they seen which she had not? Maybe had she been granted site, if they had explained the why of it in speech or even writing, ever Twilight’s preferred medium, things could have been different. But there had been nothing, or more likely she had beheld nothing. ‘Rest now sister’ she whispered, bending down and lightly kissing Luna’s forehead. ‘I hope you find the contentment in your dreams which was denied to you in life.’

Three raps split the silence, sending Celestia’s hoof to gently stroke her sister’s cheek. She found herself quietly shushing the empty body, as if the knocking could awake the dark alicorn from her much needed sleep, although inside she deeply wished that it were so.5 The shrouds levitated back into place and she quickly readied herself, rebuilding an air of composure, as the rapping continued. ‘Enter.’

Three officers came in, all removing their helmets and bowing their heads respectfully as they did so.

‘News?’

‘Yes your highness’ the first began. ‘I’m afraid our scouts have lost track of the retreating forces of the Lunar Guard, however a few of the enemy’s other forces have replied to your decree of amnesty and downed arms.’

Celestia nodded. She was already sure that Luna’s bodyguard would not surrender; their aeon old loyalties would not allow them to. The threat of rebellion amongst their ranks had been ever-present during her sister’s exile. Now with their much-loved mistress’ death a fresh conflict was a certainty, most likely for petty ideals of honour or vengeance, but if others amongst these night-time soldiers had been swayed maybe something might yet be salvaged. ‘And?’

‘Oh… um’ the second soldier struggled, at first caught off guard, ‘we’ve just received reports of further attacks in upper Manehattan and Fillydelphia.’

The princess sighed. How ugly this war had become. Violence was met with reprisal in kind, action begetting reaction, endless and cyclical. So many had been lost to it, both as victims and perpetrators.

As Celestia looked to the final stallion he commenced, needing no further prompting. ‘I was ordered to remind your highness that it is time for the sun to be lowered and the moon to be raised.’

The politely spoken words froze every inch of the Solar Princess’ being. For a thousand years she had raised her sister’s charge, willing away each day of that pain-laden duty, hoping never to do it again. Now she faced an eternity of it. Minutes passed in stilled silence and the soldiers quietly took their leave. She was alone once more, responsibilities pushing in from all sides and guilt trying desperately to maul its way out of her. Trapped in limbo she floated to tall windows, leading to a balcony. Below the lights of Canterlot were beginning to twinkle in anticipation of the night. Beyond the proud capital lay her realm, her responsibility, pushed to the very brink and still teetering over the abyss. She felt suddenly old, worn and empty. ‘But I must go on,’ she thought, ‘just as I always have, for the good of everypony. We will not fall. We will have unity.’ Her face dutifully set itself in the required mask: caring, imperial and strong. ‘I’m so sorry’ Celestia said aloud, addressing the room, the surrounding city and the entire empire as she stepped out, bearing the burden of her heavy crown with her.

Author's Note

References:
1) Henry V by William Shakespeare (Act 4, Scene 3, Line 62)
2) For All to See by Pearple Prose
3) Bubbles by anonymous
4) The Tragedy of King Richard III by William Shakespeare (Act 1, Scene 1, Lines 24-30)
5) Macbeth by William Shakespeare (Act 2, Scene 2, Line 75)