A Tale of Steel and Blood

      The world ... a mere pile of rock and stone and wood and creatures who can never solve their problems without bloodshed. It had been that way for thousands of years. Never would the three races of equine -- one of the earth, one of the skies, and one of strange powers to twist the world to their whim -- unite. But when the cold winds blew from the east, the fields became their very enemy. Even the strongest pony became powerless in the face of starvation. And so, like the great nomads of legend, they traveled, and came upon a new land, of rich life. But their troubles soon followed. And so, out of necessity and the need to live, the three united under a single banner -- the banner of the great land of Equestria.

But not would other forces of evil leave them, for the Chaos Lord Discord, a being twisted by his strange power, came upon the land, and took it for his own. The people suffered from the cruel torments he forced them through for his own perverse amusement.

But then, they came. Two beings of regal divinity and righteousness, said to be birthed by the gods, or even gods themselves (though this was just an old wives tale), cast down the Chaos Lord, and ruled in his stead. Peace and prosperity reigned for many years to come. When the Horned Lord, a monstrosity half man and half...goat... thing, came to usurp the throne and wreak havoc, the Two Sisters defeated him, forever banishing him to the realm of fire and smoke. They were kind, and they were just, and when they were forced to lift the sword, they would spill blood and raze cities without question to protect their people.

But to lead, a ruler must understand that there are forces in this world which they cannot change. The balance had shifted.

The Dark Lord had risen.

It had only begun as a curious glance in a dusty book at the back of a library, or perhaps a spell gone wrong. In the halls of the great Crystal Empire, he forged, in secret, his dark spells with his cruelty, his hatred, his will to dominate all life. And so he came, the Dark Lord Sombra.

"And behold an Ashen Horse, and he who sat on it had the name 'Death'; and hell followed with him."

And through his dark magic, Equestria was cast in shadow. Creatures of hell ravaged the land. Once great cities fell to his great power, their walls reduced to rubble. Smoke and blood filled the skies. Thousands were slaughtered. One by one, the lands of Equestria were drowned by Sombra's dark influence.

But there were some who resisted. Through the flames marched the hosts of Equestria, the Sisters at their head, unwilling to go quietly into the night. And so, with sword and spear, they pushed the tide back, back to the hells whence they came, back to the corrupted empire. And on the slopes of the Crystal Mountains, they fought for the freedom of Equestria.

The Dark Lord Sombra was defeated by the Sisters themselves, forever cast away to the depths where he belonged. The Crystal Empire had disappeared with him, however, and the land was ravaged and burning. But yet, the Two Sisters went nowhere but forward, driving their kingdom to a golden age of peace and prosperity. No enemies would threaten them for a thousand years, no sword would be lifted, and no death would be had. Truly, the land would be in a state of perfection that not even the gods themselves could create.

At least, that is the story we prefer to tell, for history is written by the victors....

The air was filled with smoke and blood. They had won a great victory here today, though not without a hefty cost. Thousands had fallen in this battle alone. Celestia surveyed the bloody field. So much death... but it would be a sufficient price for life. While thousands of loyal Equestrians died on this field, and on others, thousands more would live to see the sun rise over the horizon.

The sun began breaking through the thick layer of dark clouds overshadowing the killing field, like a blessing from the gods after the Long Dark that plagued the land. The men roared a mighty cheer, as if thousands of their brothers were not dead at their hooves; as if the legendary empire had not vanished without a trace. It echoed over the mountains, and across the fields; through the skies and to the gods. They cheered, and they cheered, as if their furnaces would never be extinguished.

And when their cheers died, they were risen anew by the sun, not having been seen since the day the sky turned black, filling the sky, drowning out all darkness. It reflected off of Celestia's armor, basking her in a godly light atop the cliff where she stood. The men cheered once more. Luna, her dark blue armor clanking, walked beside her. She observed the valley below her with tired eyes, having been drained during their duel with Sombra.

"We have not proved ourselves like this since our defeat of Discord, sister," Celestia said. "And you remember how they treated us then. I fear they may begin to-"

"Good." Luna did not turn to face her sister.

Celestia blinked. "What?"

"You know as well as I that Equestria's power, our power, is waning. We are nothing but ants to the West, or the Saddle Arabians." Her voice was oddly emotionless. "Ants to be crushed. Where we see holes that must be fixed, they will see opportunities."

"Sister, I-"

Luna finally turned to face Celestia. "But now... they will see that no longer. For we have finally proven ourselves once more to the world. Equestria has finally earned the respect she deserves. We have earned the respect we deserve. Our subjects will finally look up to us and see leaders worth following. They will see not two mares with wings and horns and elegant wear, who, in their eyes, do nothing but enjoy the privileges of ruling -- no, they will see true leaders. All we need to do is draw the sword." She drew her sword, a blade of blackened steel, the rasping metal drowned by the cheering. Luna walked to the edge of the cliff, and looked back.

Celestia averted her gaze. Her head swam. She thought of what her sister said, what it would mean for Equestria. She thought of the thousands dead, of the mothers and wives who would weep at night. The families shattered. The blood spilled. The voices cheering at the Usurper's death.

And she drew her blade with her magic, and joined her sister at the edge of the cliff, her mane once more radiating with the beauty of the sun, and she lifted it in the air, the light shining off the metal.

And it was then that the fates of thousands were decided.

The chorus of voices changed. They sang the words not said for hundreds of years, not since the flower kings and queens ruled the south, and the Two Sisters had banished the Chaos Lord... yet now they were heard again, echoing off the high mountain tops:

"THE QUEENS OF THE SOUTH!"

"THE QUEENS OF THE SOUTH!"

"THE QUEENS OF THE SOUTH!"