You take in a deep breath of the night’s cold air, your sword levitating silently in front of you. You hope to Celestia that you won’t have to use it. You take another breath to yell at the house in front of you, “This is the Equestrian Royal Guard! There have been accusations of treason against the property owners of this building, and we have a warrant to search the premises! Please make this easy, or this can only go bad for you!”
You wait for a reply. You can hear each individual beat of your heart. Maybe they had replied? Maybe you just missed them because-
Your commander signals for you and your team to breach the front door. Obediently, you take cover on the left side of the door, pulling your sword back so it’s ready to stab into the entrance if need-be. One of the other members of the team brings forward a battering-ram, swiftly throwing it into the door to force it open. As soon as it pulls back, you and the rest of the team briskly make your way into the darkened home, looking for any sign of hostile intent. Even if you can't see any threats, you still feel uneasy. Anything can make you uneasy in the dark.
The commander gestures for a few guards to head down into the basement via the door on the immediate left. He then gestures to the right, signalling you and two others to search the kitchen, while he and another two move into the living room.
As you all enter the kitchen, each of you are checking every corner for attackers. The room is a little more illuminated due to the window over the sink. After finding nothing but some unorganized knives and unreadable papers, you call out into the house, “Kitchen clear!”
“Living room clear,” your commander responds.
You all wait for a response from the basement.
*Boom!*
You lose your footing as the floorboards shake and snap. Your ears ring so bad that your eyes are starting to lose depth-perception. You see bright flashes coming from the basement, and flames begin licking at the doorway. The whole house was very quickly filling with smoke.
This place is burning down.
You can see your commander already leading the soldiers out the front door, counting them and urging them out of the building. You blindly follow-suit onto the front lawn.
You cough heavily as smoke tries to get out of your lungs, forcing you to lie down on the ground and take the moment to breathe. Most of your comrades are doing the same.
You glance back at the house, watching it quickly turn to ash. You curse as you realize that you dropped your sword after the initial shock.
As you turn your head back toward the rest of Canterlot, you see a crowd of ponies beginning to gather. You take initiative and work up the strength to stand and walk toward them. “This area is dangerous! Please-” you burst into another fit of coughing and fall to your knees. Midway through, you have to throw your helmet off so you can stretch your neck to a comfortable position.
As you recover, you realize that all of the ponies are laughing.
“What are-” you cough once more, introducing vomit into the mix. You wipe the saliva from your mouth as you crane your neck upwards to make eye-contact with the civilians, who only seem to be coming closer. “You need to leave!”
Your ears are still ringing, but you hear someone speak, “He thinks we’re just some dumb bystanders.”
Dumb bystanders?
“Extremists!” one of the guards behind you yells.
Oh.
You roll onto your side as a sword’s blade slams into the ground next to where you just were. You throw up again when your organs try to reorient themselves.
The extremists laugh. A mare steps out from the group, lifting her blade once again. This time, she won't miss. “This is what you get for working under a tyrant like-” A bright streak of light hits the ground just in front of your face, sending flecks of dirt flying between you and the mare. You try to look again, but it has already dissipated.
The extremist mare pauses as she notices the uncanny amount of blood pouring from her neck. She puts her hoof up against the wound, then promptly falls face-first into the soil.
All is silent for a moment.
One of the ponies looks up and, upon seeing the source of the bolt, screams, “Nightmare!”
The crowd follows the gaze. Screams echo all around; stallions and mares scatter into the streets, running for alleys and sewers.
Their escape is suddenly cut off as a large blue dome encases the entire area. Their panic increases tenfold as they begin trying to tear the walls down.
Your vision is suddenly half-obscured by darkness. Did you go blind? You look up to see what had terrified them so.
Nightmare Moon stands multiple meters tall, towering over any of the ponies in Canterlot by double their size. Her mouth forms a enraged frown, baring her fangs at the terrorists. They continue bashing at the immortal wall.
The alicorn swiftly flicks her horn as if jerking something hard to the side, and suddenly all motion in your vision stops.
You shift your head to try and discern what she’s done. And then you see it.
Every single one of the extremists. Spikes extend from the walls of the dome and into the throats of each and every pony who was trying to scramble out of the bubble. Blood pours onto the street and leaks into sewage drains. The night is silent and lifeless, the bodies all stuck in a silent eternal scream. Red flows from their lips, having nowhere left to go but out.
The dome collapses, dropping the mangled corpses onto the cobblestone and into their own pools of crimson. Their coats already begin to lose their color, leaving nothing but gray, inanimate morsels of flesh. The only color left is red.
You slowly rise to your knees, looking over the carnage. Every one of them were killed with a single lurch of her horn. You notice her looking over her shoulder straight into your eyes. You subserviently bow your head, looking at the grass and dirt.
The Queen personally graces you with her presence, and began with a display of true power no-less. She has power, alright. Power to be respected. Power to be feared.
The alicorn’s frown transforms into a wicked grin. “My little ponies,” You can feel her eyes fixed on you specifically, “The night is ours.”
Nightmare Moon flares her wings, then forcefully flaps them, sending her rocketing into the dark sky. You lift your head to watch her as she majestically, yet terrifyingly, makes her way back to Canterlot Castle.
You take a deep breath. The ringing from the bomb has begun to fade, and your vision has returned to normal. However, your mind is scarred by the horrors that you've witnessed this knight. The true colors of war.
Another guard approaches you from behind. A thought pops into your mind, so you turn your head to him and ask, “What time is it?”
The stallion checks his watch. “Just past noon.”
You look back at the queen. Her silhouette hangs in front of the bulbous moonlight as though she's posing for a portrait.
With a heavy sigh, you fall back to your commander as he calls your name. It’s hard being a slave to such an evil being, but you're going to do your job even if it kills you. You joined the Equestrian Royal Guard to help people, and that's exactly what you're going to do.
Author's Note
I have not written on this site for ages.
I found this when going through some old notes and figured I'd tidy it up a little and release it into the wild. If I care enough, I'll update the story soon, but don't expect much for the near-future.
