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Strategos
Smoke In The West
Apples

Strategos
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In Flame

Strategos

Three years, three months, and a day.
One of the natural gifts granted an Earth pony was a near savant ability to tell time through means other than sky or clock. It was instinctual, internal, and as magical as anything the other species were capable of. Applejack could tell anypony what season it was, month, week, and day if she had been knocked out cold and been kept in such a condition for a year. She knew when each and every tree was ready to be bucked not because she had some sort of silly connection to nature, but because she had a silly connection with time. She was never at a loss in understanding it, but there wasn't a possibility of misunderstanding time in her situation.
She didn't need to be an Earth pony to keep track of this.

Three years, three months, and a day.
Perhaps she would see year three, month three, day two.
Maybe not, and the more she gave thought to the situation, the likelier that possibility became until it became a high probability.
A smirk flashed across her weary face- such thoughts and beliefs had crowded her mind a dozen times before. Whether she could be considered lucky for having made it through each previous time or unlucky for having lived only to engage in another nightmare was up for debate, but having made peace with it years ago and now finding it some sort of outrageous farce that she survived certainly helped improve her attitude. After today, if she lived, she wouldn't need to have her attitude improved through any artificial means, because every moment of the past three years would be worth it.

Three years, three months, and a day.
She pulled the tight bronze-steam weapon holsters over her front hooves again, followed by the bronze-steam armored saddle and cuirass, their sudden weight once being a burden. Now to be without her armor, her lance, her shield, her sword, it all felt wrong, as if she was being wronged or robbed or otherwise malformed. Her mane, tail, and fur, as neat and cut as befit one of her rank, all showed the signs of the usage of it. Creases where metal had been tightly wound against her, where excess steam from the mechanical workings of her weapons and armor had burned her, where the armor had stuck during the dead of winter and pulled out entire clumps of fur, these were permanent additions or subtractions depending on one's point of view. She thought of them as additions, as they tended to peel away the fur that covered the truth of her war. Scars from spear thrusts, sword cuts, arrows, and burns pockmarked her body, each one a reminder to friend and foe alike that there stood Applejack the Unbreakable, Applejack the Wall, the hero and the valiant. It was a symbol more than anything- she was a symbol more than anything- because all of this was true.

And to be honest about such an affair, the mare would have to show her wounds. Those wounds would become covered by the fur that sought to protect them from the currently untamed Equestrian weather if she was unarmored, truth hidden by intention. So, as Applejack pulled the straps on her armor tighter and tighter until she could feel a dizzy spell come over her, she loved her armor. And perhaps after this day, the day of her tenth engagement in the front, she would get used to the weight of the pike on her shoulder after three long years.

Three years, three months, and a day, to be exact.
She finished with her weapon and armor attachments, slapping the guard over her right hoof before flipping it back inside, hitting the back of her right hoof against the inner portion of her leg near the wrist. A small jet of steam shot out of her bronze weapon holster and by the time she registered it, a short sword had shot out of the holster and extended well past the end of her hoof. She took a few swipes at the air in front of her, dancing shadows in the light provided by her fading lamp in the officer's tent for a few moments. She repeated the motion with the hoof once more, and the sword retracted. It was a secondary weapon, if a useful one. She would rather not have to use it as it was of no use in her formation, meaning if she drew it, the formation was broken and they were likely to be overrun. The sword would prove very useful then, as it was easy to find the weak points in an enemy's defense. Jugulars were easy targets, disembowelments easier than she thought, and decapitation did the job well too.

But she wasn't one of the fancy sword-stallions; she was a pikemare. She'd rather hide behind her shield and let her pike go through the motions. Killing became easy when all you saw was the back of your shield, felt was the impact of your pike, and heard- well, between all the screaming and cursing, you didn't hear anything anyway. If she had to use her sword, that meant she had to confront what was happening. She wasn't happy with that scenario, that possibility. Killing in a phalanx was bad enough as it was. She'd come to terms with that for a while.

She did the same motion with her left hoof and within a few seconds, her shield was deployed. It was as tall as she, made of bronze, and entirely heavy. She made a few movements forward and found it just as uncomfortable as always, even if she was now capable of moving forward at a much quicker pace than she had when she was first trained. That was almost impossible to fathom, as she had been in such better shape back then. Constant marching and inconsistent diet had turned her once physically impressive form into a more ragged and decidedly malnourished one. She felt so much weaker than she had back then, but experience paid dividends more than strength could ever hope to. She set herself behind the shield and moved her right shoulder up on its own before she heard the first click. She quickly pulled her shoulder back down and the first six feet of the pike shot out from the slot, Applejack sliding it into a notch on the very top right of the shield. There were four such holes, one on the top right, on the right, top left, and left.

This allowed four pikes to be positioned in line for battle if required, though usually only two were present as anti-Griffon doctrine dictated that her formation have the majority of their pikes airborne. She then pulled her shoulder forward and back, forward and back, the pike hissing lowly as it shot forward and was pulled back multiple times, stretching the length of her tent. She would have preferred to have taken out the full eighteen feet of the pike, but space was at a premium. After a few more thrusts to get reacquainted with her primary method of killing, she lowered her shoulder until she heard a click. The pike shot back into her armor, and she raised her left shoulder until she heard two clicks. She then let her body rest a moment before she made two quick movements with her left shoulder and heard two audible hisses as the steam-powered tubes shot nothing out of them. It had been a dry run; normally, her two pilla would have shot out at high speed. She had become very good with their use; why, it was almost like she had been at war for three years.

Three years, three months, and a day, to be exact.
She looked at the last piece of the ensemble, her helmet that through all of its dings still had the plume on top untouched. She hated it. Her vision was restricted and the noise so unworldly formed that even her own voice became alien. Still, while she was no fashionista like an old friend of hers was, she did like the helmet of the Lochagos. It wasn't horizontal like those of the enomotarchs and ouragos', but forward like a mohawk in a brilliant green and white color scheme. She slid it on and then pulled it tight with the straps until it was snug around her jaw, taking some effort to open and close her mouth. Good. That meant should something slam against her, she wouldn't have to deal with her helmet rattling around and giving her too bad a concussion. Of course, maybe instead of getting a concussion she'd just have a fractured skull. That'd happen once or twice before, though for the life of her she couldn't exactly remember when.
That thought gave her another reason to smirk, as if everything could be a joke. She hoped it was, this whole venture, just a cruel joke played by some uncaring universe for reasons of perverse entertainment. At least then she could say something other than herself found this all to be one big joke. She could maybe have found one other mare in this world to find it funny, but Applejack didn't even know if she were alive, dead, a prisoner, paralyzed, tortured, or happy and content back in Ponyville.

"Alright, think ah've held it off long 'nough," She whispered lowly to herself. It was mighty fine, having the freedom to waste her time in her tent until she was needed. There used to be a time when she would be rushed to the front long before she was needed because that was the order of the day. After killing so many and losing so much, she figured her commanding officer no longer thought it required to interfere with her goings on. She appreciated it. Still, she had to get going eventually.

Taking a deep breath, all of her shields and weapons safely in place, she trotted out of her tent. Met was she by the sun's glistening rays which pierced the dark, heavy cloud cover to cast an otherworldly shade over the grassy plains before them. Tents of many shapes and sizes stretched out around hers as far as the eye could see and all around them were thousands of ponies in the same armor scheme as her milling past the tents and over a series of hills off in the distance. That is, except for the group of nearly a hundred ponies who huddled around her tent.

******
"Whatcha lazy bums doin' just millin' 'bout my tent? Dontcha have somethin' betta to do, like fightin' a war and such?" She yelled out to her comrades, the response being a chorus of laughter as she started trotting past them, her Lochos following close by.

"Nah, we just wanted to make sure our lochagos wasn't gonan be lazin' about today. You know how she is, always avoiding the fighting so she can prune her feathers like an overfed pegasus," Her second in command, enomotarch Crazy Legs, spoke with a cutting rasp. They were all by this stage certifiably insane, which was the best possible state of mind.

"Ah'm sorry, ah couldn't hear ya over the sound of yer pissin' yourself like a lil' foal, sugarcube," Applejack replied sweetly, eliciting a roar of laughter from the ponies behind her. Crazy Legs joined in and fell behind, and soon the entire lochos was following in step behind her. She picked up the pace and so did they, starting to stream by the unicorn archers and lazy pegasi who weren't going to be needed until later. Whatever- maybe they wouldn't be needed at all, if Applejack and her compatriots had any say in the matter.

They reached the crest of the hill and saw a sight both familiar and terrifying. nearly twenty thousand ponies were starting to arrange themselves forming a battle line. Above, around a thousand pegasi were starting to form themselves, while the other half were still lazing about back in camp. Another two thousand archers, mostly unicorns though intermixed with others with aptitude in the art, mingled around a few dozen steam and magic powered siege engines. It was a brilliant sight, but one she had grown accustomed to, lacking definition as it did. They still had some time before battle, even if they were minutes away from the pre-battle movements, and definition would come with that time. It always did. Equestrians fought with regality if nothing else.

She trotted down the hill, the clatter of the ninety-nine armored ponies behind her lost in the din of many more around her. It took a few more minutes as they slowed down in the horde around them, but they soon found their way over the next hill.

There it was. The front-line. One-hundred Lochos, of which nearly seventy had arrived and were taking shape. Behind them were ten thousand infantry, one-hundred centuria organized into twenty cohorts and the twenty cohorts into two legions. Two thousand auxillaries, mostly rock-kickers and light infantry, milled about. No one cared about them just at that moment, as was standard for this misshapen army. Proper procedure would have called for a different configuration but then again, proper procedure called for anything other than a war. Her Lochos joined the front soon enough, over the final set of rolling hills. Before them wide open plains almost as far as the eye could see and at the other end, a city in the mountains and nearly fifty thousand shining gold figures in between the ponies and their prize.

Well, it was as good a day as any to die.
Her stallions and mares took their positions in a haphazard fashion, out of all danger for the time being, as their lochagos trotted out in front of the formation one last time. She wasn't alone. Many others of her rank and above stood out in front of the lines, inspecting, inspiring, fearing for their soldiers.
Their brothers. Their sisters. Their foals. Their charges. Their swords, pikes, and shields that they would willingly see destroyed mentally and physically to ensure this one victory.

Celestia have mercy on them for thinking they could throw those lives away so easily..
Celestia have mercy on her for knowing she could.

"Strategos, I see you have arrived. Punctual, as always," Shining Armor spoke as he cantered closer from the center to her extreme right, flanked by two Royal Guards.

He was regal, as he always was, in his personalized purple armor. Their enemies had come to fear that color for many reasons and Applejack hoped that after today, they would fear it so as to never take the field again.

But Strategos.
A general.
To be deemed such was unnerving. She could control a hundred ponies, and in battle, that was who she was. Lochagos, leader of a lochos. Her lochos, her brothers, sisters, foals, friends. However, she was asked to be in charge of ten Lochos, ten Centurias, and four companies of auxilla when it came to planning and camp and was still expected to give out orders in battle. She wasn't Twilight, and the sheer organization required was beyond her. Still, she had no choice. Spending the past few months running the show for that many had proven to be beyond her capabilities. She could make a battle plan and follow it through with honest, cold steel
better than she could handle the sheer scale of paperwork and tiny little complaints and demands made of her time. Maybe that was why her formations had run through their allotment of cider months before everypony else. Maybe that was why they had the most fights and the greatest number of discipline problems. Then again, maybe that was why they were the closest band of warriors in the whole damn army, 'sides from the Hearts Command. Nopony could expect to fight better than lovers, after all.

"Ah'm nothin' if not punctual, Your Majesty," Applejack said, bowing her head to the temporary King who slowed his gait as he drew near. He took position next to her and looked out across the fields, his brows furrowed

"Well, it wouldn't be appropriate for an Apple to be late to one of their own funerals," He said with a sincere laugh, as joyless as it was, "though I think Big Mac is not in the mood for such humor on this day."

"That bad?" Applejack asked, though she wasn't at all interested in the answer. For good or ill, she was committed. They all were.
He gestured out to the growing mass of gold figures and the billowing brown cloud over the city.

"Our scouts were right, as always. Fifty thousand on the ground, ten in the sky. And within the week, another forty. They hold the high ground and know exactly what we’re going to do. We're already already outnumbered three to one today," Shining Armor added without a single drop of concern.

"Well, that certainly seems to fit our style, Your Majesty. Ah wouldn't have it any other way," Applejack added with a laugh. The odds were fearful, truthfully. But once one steels herself to death and it doesn't come, she can become annoyed. Have it happen a dozen times and life becomes a tragic comedy.

"We all have our parts to play, Strategos. For Equestria," Shining Armor said, tilting his head respectfully. It hadn't been all that long ago that the Apples were a simple farming family in Ponyville, content to their gift of peace and prosperity. Then they had paid for their generations of prosperity and health by sacrificing their souls. Now, they stood by the temporary King ready to follow him into battle and almost certain death, again, and he found himself proud to say he had been killed alongside them.

"For Equestria," Applejack replied, returning the nod as Shining Armor cantered about, speaking to the other Strategos. She sighed and turned around, only to find the small officer corp of lochagos and centurions walking up to her.

*****
"Hay naw, get back in your formations. Nothin' has changed our orders, alrigh'?" Applejack swiftly shot at them, scattering them before her as she turned to face her formation. She wished she had something inspirational to say, but the fact was she didn't quite like being in this position. She smiled; she could tell the truth as she always did and they would take it as gallows humor. A part of her was starting to find it comical as well.

"ALRIGHT! Y'ALL WANNA HEAR THE SCOOP?" She roared just as other strategos and other officers started speaking, reading from prepared speeches or making impromptu appeals to glory. They had it all wrong.

"HUUAHHH!" Her two thousand plus ponies responded, some starting to jump up and down with nervous energy. Sick smiles started spreading amongst the veterans.

"WE'RE OUTNUMBERED THREE TO ONE, WE RECKON. THEY OWN THE SKIES, 'CAUSE OUR PEGASI ARE ALL LAZIN' 'BOUT BACK AT CAMP FEEDIN' ON OUR RATIONS LIKE A BUNCHA FAT CATTLE.

THEY OWN US AT RANGE 'CAUSE THE UNICORNS ARE TOO BUSY PLAYIN' 'ROUND WITH THEIR MANES TO FORM UP AND START STRIKIN' OUR ENEMY DOWN LIKE GOOD, HONEST PONYFOLK.

THEY KNOW WE'RE COMIN', THEY KNOW WHEN WE'RE COMIN', THEY KNOW WHERE WE'RE COMIN, AND THEY KNOW THEY HAVE REINFORCEMENTS THAT DOUBLE 'S UP. WE CAN'T GO 'ROUND, WE CAN'T OUTFLANK 'EM, WE CAN'T ESCAPE, WE GOTTA GO RIGHT AT 'EM," She started, stopping to draw her breath and smile.

"WE'RE ALL PRETTY DARN UGLY, AH RECKON THE UGLIEST BUNCH O' PONIES IN UNIFORM. WE SMELL, TOO, Y'ALL SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES," Applejack continued, her formations breaking out into small fits of laughter.

"QUITE FRANKLY, WE'RE PRETTY WELL LICKED AND AH RECKON WE'LL LOOK A WHOLE BUNCH PRETTIER WHEN WE'RE IN THE GROUND," She finished, her formations roaring with approval.

She countered with a joyless laugh, as everything she had said was Celestia's truth. The fact it worked as a healthy sense of gallows humor was a gift she never thought she'd need to have.

"HUAAAHHH!"

She waved her hooves to quiet them all down. For a moment, she gave them a look across the formation. Then he sighed.

"Well, ah reckon we better get to it. If y'all die out there today, and we probably will, jus' know ah've never known a finer bunch of ponyfolk. It's been an honor knowin' y'all, and ah couldn't think of anypony else ah'd rather bleed next ta," She said from the heart, struck motionless as the old Applejack gave each and every one of them a home in her heart for however briefly it would still beat. Perhaps there was an afterlife and the fact they would soon have no home in her dead flesh wouldn’t be a great crime, their existence assured in something more etheral.

"Don'tcha be getting soft on us, Applejack! We need you to kill lots of zebras so we can go home!" One of her fellows belted out from the middle of the formation, a small ripple of laughter shattering the single moment of seriousness that the lunatic could muster. Her foals were silly types.

"Ah can't do all the work, you lazy bums," Applejack retorted as she trotted into her formation, taking her place at the extreme right hand side of the lochos. Behind her, a single pony did attach to Applejack's back the standard of her command. It was shockingly weightless, or at least felt like it. She did not know, if she spoke the truth- and she always did, even if her proclamations of doom seemed so obvious as to be a running comedic piece in the ranks.

"As always, an excellent inspirational speech, my Lochagos," Stream Runner said from behind, that bootlickin' son of a tailor at least earning Applejack's respect in combat, even if his aforementioned bootlicking ways annoyed her to no end.

"Nah, so short and jumbled and jangled about, though I s'pose there's nothing intelligent to say about a massacre," She replied with a hint of frustration, as if there was one thing she knew she wasn't it was an inspirational leader and she didn't appreciate somepony kissing her flank to get on her good side on the eve of battle. Especially when she knew she was going to die, it seemed mighty unseemly to lead a mare on like that.

Nopony moved as the other officers finished or continued their speeches. All Applejack could see were the glinting forms of fifty thousand zebras in light gold- leather skin tunics in the sun and looking a mite disrespectful to Applejack's eyes. There wasn't much she could do to correct that behavior from her position, was there?

Without warning, Applejack started trotting forward, her banner in the wind jutting out towards the enemy while the others stood mute in shock. Moments later, her lochos, then her entire command, followed. It took a few seconds longer, but then other formations started moving and within twenty seconds of Applejack's unilateral move, the entire Equestrian army as deployed found itself slowly marching towards the field of battle.

Three years, three months, and a day.
The war had lasted three years, three months, and a day. And as the ponies marched forward, they knew a victory would not end the war, this bloodletting in front of the Eternal City another chapter in a book just being written. Recapturing this symbol of power would be the greatest victory of the war for Equestria.
For Applejack.
For her friends, for the Princesses, for everypony alive or dead, it would be the greatest victory.

But it wouldn't be the end.
Not for those that were unlucky enough to live through it, not until the zebras had been cut out of the bleeding landscape itself and forced back over the borders. The ponies would fight for that. Applejack would fight for that.

"For Equestria!"

They marched towards their enemy.
They marched towards Canterlot.

Smoke In The West
View Online

In Flame

Smoke In The West

Applejack’s hooves hurt.
That wasn’t some earth shattering revelation, as anypony who worked the orchards and applebucked knew that a few hours of it sent throbbing pangs of, well, pain through their hooves. Some hated it. She loved it, as each little bullet of pain represented a few hours of work that went towards a greater future for her family and town. That was worth any measure of pain, a drop in the bucket compared to what progress demanded and a single bit as a down payment.

But still, that nagging pain could put her rightly in a sore mood and it just wasn’t fair to nopony else. The best antidote for anypony in the seeding stage of a poor mood was a nice visit with good friends, and this great Equestrian truth held as true for Applejack as any other pony. That was why she found herself out back of Fluttershy’s cottage, lapping up tea in a manner Rarity considered uncouth while listening to Pinkie’s continued raving. It was an excellent backdrop.

“And that’s when Rainbow Dash came up with the best idea ever! The best idea since her last idea, which was the best idea since the idea before that! And before that-” She continued on and on, drinking from an already empty cup before the straw itself vanished into the pink void.

“What Pinkie’s TRYING to say is that I figured that if Granny Smith can’t head down to city hall to celebrate being the oldest mare in Equestria, and if she can’t walk down to Sugarcube Corner, AND your barn is unavailable, we could just have it in the park outside your farm. That has all the room we’d need and it isn’t too far away. I could even fly her over!” Rainbow crackled with excitement, wanting to feel at least partially useful. That day had seen nary a cloud in the sky, as if pegasi nationwide had declared a war on them and won it with great swiftness. Without the customary cloud clearing, she hadn’t done anything worthy of her title. Maybe carrying an elderly mare would suffice.

“That sounds like a smashing idea, Rainbow Dash,” Rarity added, lifting her tea telekineticaly and giving a half-smile and took in its essence.

Applejack raised her head and sighed, looking down at the ground in worry.
“Well, that’s mighty kind of ya, but ah don’t think that Granny could take that for any length o’ time. Old coot...she can hardly go up an’ down the stairs, let alone tha rigors of pegasi flight- even somepony as good as ya, Rainbow,” Applejack said with increasingly lowered tone, her ears finally dropping low.
Her mind was troubled by such thoughts, incurring them in increasing frequency as her elderly mentor- caretaker, for a part of her life- slowly started to succumb to the ticking clock. It was scary- she was a fixture more so than any building in town, and seeing her start to fall from her lofty position atop the family brought to Applejack the reality that nothing was permanent. For a mind that willingly focused on the day to day aspects of life, it was disconcerting to be confronted by it.

Her friends took note of her dark expression and through their collective willpower tried to summon a smile on her weary face. Having failed in that, they summoned Pinkie instead.

"Well we could always use my party cannon! I've never fit a mare in there before, just some fillies and colts, but I think we could do it and then she gets dinner and a show!" She blathered on as Applejack chortled and shook her head.

"Pinkie, we ain't puttin' Gran- wait, a minute, ya put real-life fillies in yer cannon!?" Applejack's head seemingly suffered from an earthquake as she stared wide-eyed at her hyperactive friend.

"Yep!" All smiles, all the time. Her friends looked at her slackjawed.

"Oh dear, Pinkie, I don't think that sounds very...safe," Fluttershy's meek voice could only weakly echo above the din of the chickens behind her. She turned to deal with those she felt a close connection to; the ponies were nice too.

"It's perfectly safe! I shot them right into the lake!" As she spoke, everypony's mind tried to wrap around her words and her ceaselessly reassuring and joyous expression. Failure abound and rebooting of one's logic was required.

"Pinkie, shooting little foals out of cannons is not a safe activity for them, dear," Rarity added with far less venom than one may have expected. She may not have been one for silly acts of fun, but that didn't somehow preclude her from speaking on ths subject. Rarity's opinion was always important.

"Sweetie Belle is not a little foal! She's a big filly who's gonna earn her cutie mark any day now! Besides, she didn't do it alone. It was fun!" Before anypony could sink into her words, Rarity slammed her hooves on the table, sending the tea cups currently on the table crashing to the grass below.

"You did WHAAAAT?!" The fashionista roared with fury well-deserved, Pinkie clasping her front hooves behind her back and giving a desperate smile in a vain attempt to ward off whatever devastating anger-induced rage was about to come her way. The animals fled from the incoming firestorm and Fluttershy ducked beneath the table. Luckily for all, Rainbow Dash had a one-track mind.

"Aren't we getting off topic? We've gotta find a way to get Granny Smith out so she can celebrate her birthday!" Rainbow Dash pleaded pathetically, saving Pinkie less from conscious action and more from an immature sensibility disabling her from continuing conversation as long as a previous topic was left open.

"Yeah, if smartypants were here, I'm sure she could come up with a solution like THAT!" Pinkie formulated her speech as if she were answering Rarity, trying to cool the unicorn off with a clap of her hooves at the end. The fact it worked as a response to Rainbow Dash's question was an added bonus, but little more.

"When was Twilight supposed to get back from visiting the Princess? I thought it was just one of her little trips. She is usually just gone for a few hours! It's been almost the whole day," Rainbow pouted, provoking a series of odd looks from her friends.

"Ah don't know. Somethin' must be holdin' Twi up, isn't like 'er to scoot off for the whole dang day. Ya know how she is with her plannin', a wasted second's as bad as a wasted hour with her," Applejack's voice raised as she grew concerned with that previously uninvestigated fact. Twilight was one of the most organized ponies in all of Equestria and as much as she loved her visits with the Princess, as rare and seemingly random a schedule date it was, she had never once been gone but half as long as this trip.

The six hardly got together lately, Granny Smith's failing faculties occupying Applejack for starters. She had steeled herself, resolved herself, to make do with what time she had and honor her less by showing signs of grave sympathy and instead by working her flank off. It was the Apple way: You worked hard so the younger generation could gain a better existence, and they worked hard so their young could become even greater. It would be a betrayal of that very ethos if she succumbed to the same drumbeat of emotion that once felled her as a filly.

Rainbow Dash had truly started taking her dreams with a manner of seriousness after the wedding, her command of the sonic rainboom providing such an enormous lift to her spirits and ego that she was training daily less on tricks and more on flight patterns. She was approaching the day when she would try out for the Wonderbolts and to everypony but Rainbow Dash, her inclusion was less of a process than a minor formality.

Rarity's business continued to thrive against the odds in a town ill-inclined to sustain it. Buoyed by her connections in Canterlot and to royalty, to describe her as euphoric and swimming in riches professionally and financially would have just started to scratch the surface. Of course, few ponies made such consistent efforts to please others and give of herself for the greater good of others. That had led to her burning the candle at more than both ends; pleasing clients, friends, and one’s own sense of generosity when confronted by charity left little time for rest.

Pinkie and Fluttershy were the same, constants in a wild universe. Fluttershy was just too shy and nopony would count Pinkie’s endless party schedule as valued get togethers. It wasn’t because they were disliked, it had more to do with how she’d throw a party for any conceivable reason and as such they lost impact. How much cake had been tossed politely behind her back into garbages town-wide would be a question for Celestia herself which, if rumors were to be believed, she would personally investigate with untamed vigor.

And Twilight was, well, Twilight. In all things outside her direct view and terms of dominance, she was still somewhat hesitant. Formulating large gatherings was one thing that hesitancy disallowed her from being the leader in. It wasn’t an insult as she countered that with being able to come up with all sorts of activities for them. That was probably why they were sipping tea instead of playing a game or having a picnic, as Twilight was the one who normally gave such plans the required verve to see it through.

And it was something they all enjoyed. Some friendships would be weakened as the waves of time thrashed violently against them and set upon destroying them through mischievous ends. Theirs had endured and become even stronger in the face of adversity, a bond more ethereal than they had previously any reason to suspect would become theirs. Twilight of all the group knew that, perhaps her entire being was devoted to it in a sense. They were her family in a town that lacked any and her first real friends as she left the embrace of what amounted to a surrogate mother. They could also be thought of as her test subjects in her experiments on friendship and the very cause of her continued excellence in the eyes of her mentor and hero.

The more Applejack gave thought to Twilight’s length of visit, the more she grew concerned. Even if somepony proposed that Twilight was cold and considered them little more than magical experiments for advancement in the eyes of the Princess, Applejack would have to buck them right in the mouth for simply being very wrong first off and for being extremely stupid to boot. If that was the case, then she would value above all else the time to gather them together and study or experiment. Even for evil imaginary Twilight this made no sense.

“Girls, ah’m-” Applejack began before Rarity leapt over the table at Pinkie. Apparently, she was still mad.

“PINKIE PIEEEEEEE!” She roared, the aptly named target of her lunge ducking into the ground itself as Rarity flew harmlessly above her, landing face first in the grass. Rarity didn’t know whether the fact Sweetie Belle had been shot out of the cannon or that her snout was now colored green was worse, but she could blame Pinkie for both horrors and gave little thought elsewise.

“Oh, give it a break Rarity!” Rainbow moaned, facehoofing as she floated above the emerging field of battle.

“P-Please don’t, you’re scaring all the critters!” Fluttershy begged. Like most days, she was ignored.

“That was a pretty good lunge, Rarity! Why, maybe your name should be Lungity!” Pinkie added as she grew out of the mud like some mythological beast, though her chosen name for Rarity caused everypony’s brains to reboot again, hard.

Applejack could only laugh. Rarity was wasting her time. The farmer closed her eyes and dove down to take another sip of tea, her cup spared the destruction from Rarity earlier. Friends will be friends.

Instead of cup, her snout was buried deep into a sudden rush of air as she dropped flank first into the Royal Throne Room.

The sudden change in environment finally slammed against her senses a few moments later, the small distortion from the teleportation taking a second to fail around them. It never got easier, dealing with a warped reality shimmering around the edges of your consciousness and collapsing seemingly the second you were aware of it as the new landscape stuttered into place. Never any easier and the mare responsible for it had to deal with a collection of somewhat befuddled and shocked ponies for a few seconds afterwards. Of course, their shock could by itself silence any ray of argumentation if the surroundings demanded awe and the Throne Room certainly did.

It didn't need much in the way of description, having become sadly well known to Applejack. Not that she minded having been here, but never could she say the experience that brought them there was always poor, and if the utterly disheveled Twilight weakly shaking in front of the five ponies was any indication, this would be no different. Her horn was aglow with the most desperate and cutting purple Applejack's spectrum could imagine, her mane and tail splitting hairs individually by the dozens as the great exertion sent her body into shivers. Applejack landed harshly on her flank, Fluttershy following as she had failed to deploy her wings in time, Rainbow's powerful thrust averting her own date with the floor and both Rarity and Pinkie Pie tumbling until they slammed into a pillar. The dull thud that followed was echoed in the great hall, which was striped of all form of life aside from the six ponies- and the more important collection halfway down the room, Princesses Luna and Celestia with a humble-clothed zebra prostrate in front of them. As interesting as that situation was, Applejack was more concerned about the shaking mare in front of her.

Immediately after warping back into material existence, Applejack stumbled towards Twilight.

"Sugarcube, you okay?" The orchard-weathered pony inquired, the unicorn shaking her head and seemingly unable to force out a reply. Applejack placed a hoof on the quaking shoulders that belonged to Twilight, but her attention was drawn by the speech of an obviously disgruntled Princess.

"Zecora, the news you bring us is dire and unpleasant, confrontational in nature and an act of the greatest grievance! Yet you stand before us as if you are a mere supplicant and have taken risks of great magnitude to give this to us. I can only say thank you...and admit to some difficulty as to whether classify you as enemy or friend," Luna said, her voice loud though without aid of the royal canterlot voice and quaking with a mixture of both great anger and fear. Her wings were spread wide and her eyes narrow and sharp as she studied the form before her.

"Dear Princess Luna, you may consider me both enemy and friend. For while I bring to you now tidings of doom, it is of my existence that I prophesy shall end," Zecora stated, retrieving herself from her position, knocking the hood back to reveal her striped mohawk. Applejack could only look around in shock, her friends coming around with equally confused glances. Before any could summon the fortitude to ask a question, Celestia shot them a glance. As opposed to the severity of tone used by her sister, Celestia's gaze and voice remained even and soft.

"I see, Twilight, that your worry was not well-founded. I told you that you could get them all here, my faithful student," She motioned to Twilight, who was on her flank and breathing in deep rasps.

"Princess...we have...greater issues at hand..." She bleated pathetically, standing up and shaking her head.

"Twilight, dear, what in the name of Equestria is wrong?" Rarity asked, her hair still askew from her tumble with Pinkie, who seemingly had repelled the mud earlier with no repeatable method and stood spotless behind Rarity.

"War, my dear friends from Ponyville, the effects of which shall make all of your society ill," Zecora's voice echoed, the truth breadth of it from within the minds of each pony who heard it. 'War' echoed in the confused minds as if in a cave until after a few moments of stunned silence, the peaceful lot collectively felt their jaws hit the floor.

"War? WAR?!" Rainbow belted out, her voice shocked and tinted with anger.

"It is true, my loyal subjects and friends. It appears as though the Zebra Confederacy has made a foolish and unfortunate decision."

"The Zebra wha?" Pinkie asked, snout flared in confusion.

"The...Zebra confederacy is the alliance of...zebra tribes on our borders...we...they've been trying to move...settle inside our borders for years. We've always said no since the zebras are so many and our land can only sustain so much," Twilight explained, slowly standing and regaining her normal faculties. Truth be told, a harmed Twilight was still superior to the best of most others, so the regaining of her full faculties was more of a boon to her than anypony else.

"We were pushed out of our ancestral homes by the centaurs of the river West Einlorse, whose armies fight without remorse. We found our own borders too porous and our armies of great size and skill witless in many violent comparisons, our operations little more than fool's errands. To the borders with Equestria we fled, where we heard of ponies well-fed. We knew not of your land's relative barrenness outside of that tilled by the work of the Earth ponies, and your pleading was to our ears little more than stories. I am an elder in my tribe of the Fangstyu, and I was sent here to live amongst you. To learn the truth of the ponyfolk was my sincere mission, this an honest admission.

Of friendship's true power I have now learned, though many of my fellows have been spurned. We have attempted for almost ten full years of the passing of the sun to negotiate for lands to settle, and through hard work and fellowship prove to you our mettle. For that time period full and long, our requests have been rebuffed in a manner best declared as strong. I and others know why your reluctance is so, for it would interrupt your dear land's flow.

But others see not the causes you so care for, and believe the lies spread about you to their core. They see their young starving on the poor lands they are forced to subside on, and do not appreciate the arrogance in pony calls for calm. Finally, elders called for a meeting of the fifty tribes of the Zebra Confederation, and the decision they reached came after much meditation.

War for the land you currently call home, regrettably now to be torn. My tribe is one of seven that voted against such a harsh action, though our arguments made little traction. Even now the armies of the fifty tribes assemble, and truth be told Princess, my heart, it does tremble. In their great mass they are a terrifying sight, and nopony could be faulted for giving flight," Zecora recited from memory what she had said now four times since arriving. The air around her was cold as the newly arrived ponies tried to take in this tidal wave of information.

"Oh...oh no, this isn't good at all..." Fluttershy's voice seemingly waffed through the air with the sincerest quiet anything above a whisper could attempt. The throne room was silent enough that it carried.

"No, not at all my dear Fluttershy, for soon many a zebra and pony will die. The fates have aligned so that I may deliver to you these manuscripts and details of the army fifty tribes strong, though my treason will be discovered before long," Zecora added glumly, her eyes closing and face looking down at the ground. Her form seemed to be continually losing stature as the eight pairs of eyes bored into her for reasons ranging from rage, sympathy, and confusion to awe, admiration, resignation.

"But wait, I thought seven of the tribes voted to stay OUT of this war? What do you think we are, stupid?! You're lying! Fess up!" Rainbow Dash asked, shooting over the Zebra and with arms on hips staring down at her. Zecora waited a moment before pivoting and looking straight up at the pegasus, her eyes watering and red and lacking that flair that once sparked behind them, replaced by a sense of dullness, resignation and defeat. Rainbow's accusation stoked the fires of rage.

"Rainbow Dash, as usual your words are crass! By Zebra Law are all tribes obliged, to send their warriors to the Confederacy to die. When we lost that vote, we condemned our own kin to die on their blood, choke. I and those who voted for peace were quickly replaced with those with hearts of rock, who have set forth their plans and to target us to mock. I am an elder of a tribe that shall soon no longer live in a world so dire, for it shall have perished in this unending fire.

I have committed treason against my tribe and species, and despite the immorality of this war it is I who feel like feces. War will claim its first victim when I return to the land of my birth, and as I face my executioner I shall remember only the mirth," Zecora blasted at the pegasus while still standing still, the veins in her neck pumping visibly as she shot Rainbow Dash a thousand times every moment of existence with imaginary arrows. It wasn't the mare's fault and Zecora knew it, but holding all the heavy emotional bags of the realization that no matter one did one was bound to die ingloriously and was to be the vanguard of many more unrequired deaths was a toll she would wish on not even her greatest enemy. Mortality once confronted emotionally becomes a matter of great mental fragility before one actually faces it.

"Do you mean...?" Applejack started, lifting a hoof that suddenly felt a thousand times heavier than it had any right to feel up slowly.

"Yes, my dear friend Applejack, it will be my neck that shall be snapped. I am a criminal in the eyes of my tribe, kin, and species, and the thought of living much longer with this foul stench is quite frankly uneasy. I deserve the gallows for my crime, and I believe the punishment shall be carried out in no less than three week's time.
To my surrogate Princesses Luna and Celestia and dear friends Applejack, Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie, I ask that you do not cry, for this is a fate I embrace and welcome for it is a chance, with honor, to die. Goodbye."
She spoke humbly and frankly, giving a small and courteous bow before turning her flank to the throne and with a slow but sure gait, walking out of the throne room. Her head was held high and she loosened the neck that would seen feel the sting of burning rope, her fear of death equalled only by the mortal terror of a dishonorable death. All eventually died. Few died with such dishonor forever haunting their names and tribes; Please, Actal, Lord of Names, spare me.

With that, Zecora left the throne room and the lives of her friends, permanently. There was a silent agreement amongst the ponies in the room to observe this moment, though for most it was more due to the stunning revelations dropped lazily at their hooves rather than any solemnity. Rainbow Dash landed and withdrew her wings in shame, Applejack taking her hat and hiding her face while Fluttershy tried to retreat into the deep yellow of her own body. Rarity's head hung limply in stunned silence while Pinkie's color drained and her and her trademark mane deflated slowly. Twilight had recovered to the point that weakly could she walk towards Celestia and Luna, who remained stonefaced.

"Oh, Princess, what can we do? None of us are prepared for something like this!" Twilight begged for answers as she drew near to the Princess, she who rose the sun not rising to comfort her student.

"No, Twilight I suspect as much. Especially since you teleported your friends here before we could find a way to best summon them," Celestia said with only a slight edge to her voice. That was enough for Twilight to wilt.

"My sister, please, go and wake your guard captains. I must speak with the Elements of Harmony," Celestia added, her sister bowing and in one graceful motion leaping out of the window. Dusk trailed behind her through no action of hers.

"Please, step forward," She ordered. As if tied by more than the chosen bonds of fellowship, the six bewildered and frightened mares formed up six across and slowly moved towards the regal form before them.

"Huh...ah guess now we know why ya couldn't make it to the meetin', sugarcube," Applejack whispered for no conscious reason to Twilight.

"Yeah...sorry for that..." She said, sarcasm giving everyone a little bit of mirth. Giggles all around, a release of tension as they approached the Princess and bowed.

No speech for a moment, Celestia slow to rise and when she did, her wings extended wide sent a chill rather than the usual warmth.

"My loyal subjects..." A sigh.
"My friends. I do not know how to make this easier, as it has come as a shock to all. We are in a state of war, and not only with the Zebras," She said, trotting slowly past the six who stared up as one at their majesty's form, save for Twilight who glumly considered the floor beneath her with intensity. Looks shared between the five increased the confusion before Rainbow Dashed poked Twilight in the ribs disrespectfully.

"What does she mean by that, we aren't just fighting the zebras? The zebras don't have any client races that I don't know about, right?" She asked, accepting the possibility that they may very well have a full dozen client species. She never claimed to be the most up-to date pony around, as it tended to interfere with her near stalking of the Wonderbolts.

Twilight sighed in resignation.
"What turned the voting ‘round in favor of the zebras going to war was that they had deals in place with the Griffon Kingdoms nearby, some Diamond Dog clans, and a few disgruntled Buffalo tribes. They wouldn't have done this otherwise!" Twilight screeched out, her eyes nearly wild with anguish. To be there when the Princesses' Peace was so rudely shattered and to slowly realize the burden on one's soldier was a fate best left to the young and ignorant. She was too smart to not know

"Griffons?! How did they get those greedy, disloyal maniacs to do something this stupid? Why, I would think after we destroyed their empire all those centuries ago they would have learned their lesson," Rarity spoke, her voice attaining a sense of due calm. It was a wondrous cover for a mare whose pelt started to itch as nervous energy and sweat ate at her preened condition.

"Money talks, especially lots of it. They're basically mercenaries."

"And those buffalo, I thought they were our friends! I thought we settled that dispute in Apploosa?!" Rainbow Dash asked in exasperation, searching for some cause to believe this was some cruel joke.

"Yeah, Braeburn said thay've been havin' no problems with them buffalo, not for some time," Applejack added with excitement, noticing an opportunity to hollow out a fiction for herself.

"Yes, those ones are friendly. So are a few others. But there are many more who are angry, or even fear us because we can fly and use magic. They send warriors and in return, they are promised all of their ancestral lands. I don't know if we can blame them," Twilight's mind flashed before her the images of entire towns being destroyed in brutal charges by the buffalo. The fact these mental snapshots of a disturbing internal variety could play out in the physical world shook her as for the first time the brutality of the coming conflict struck home.

"And...what about the Diamond Dogs? After what happened with Rarity, I'm not sure I could ever stand to see one again," Fluttershy hid behind her hooves as she fought against tears. For a pony so kind, the sheer thought of the coming reality was worse than perhaps the act of violence itself. War signified the end of kindness between societies, the death of all common ground. A horrifying thought for one so ingrained towards the act of love.

"They aren't useful in a fight, but they know the lay of the land well enough. They won't be working directly with the zebras on the field, but...they'll try to cut supply lines and cause all sorts of havoc wherever we are weak. All they asked for in return for helping the zebras was the ability to kidnap and take as slaves," She finished, finding some comfort in the recitation of known facts. It did little to soothe the blows to her friends, whose reserves of shock and horror were being depleted at record levels. She looked at them and then nodded her head.

"It's horrifying, all of this...and...I got scared. I wanted my friends. Somponies I could share this with. I'm...sorry, Princess," Twilight pleaded, turning to face the Princess. She got only Celestia's backside, the ruler of the land staring out of the window. More silence followed.

"You are all so young. So raw. It has been my privilege to preside over the emergence of the greatest ponies to have ever lived, and all of you have secured your place in Equestria's long history. A history that I assure you will always be written by ponies. But war is a matter entirely different from anything you have experienced. There are no magical solutions to problems that fracture societies and bring them to this point. War is the antithesis of everything a pony is. Between us and our enemies, we cannot love nor extend friendship, the very cornerstones of our being," Celestia began, almost ignoring the ponies behind her before she turned around and stared at each one of them, her face growing a certain shade of cold that once seen in a monarch can forever chill her subjects.

"I hate war more than I fear eternal night or chaos. It destroys souls along with mind and flesh. I remember ages ago when I had to stand upon a field of broken ponies, lions, and griffins and dictated such harsh terms for peace purely out of my hatred of war. Not a day goes by when I fail to think back to the field and the blood and the bodies, of the screaming of the mad and crippled, how years later I would visit expiring veterans and see in their eyes that they had truly died decades ago. There is no victory in war, just survival. And just surviving is a state of being that nopony should accept as a mark of success. Yet, it is upon us and as great a fear I have in saying so, you will have parts to play. You are symbols of everything Equestria stands for, and more importantly, thanks to the magic that has flowed through you, supremely talented. I am looking at the strongest, smartest, fastest, and most cunning group in my realm. You are natural leaders of communities and war is nothing if not a conflict of community. What parts you play, how to use you, these are questions that I do not know the answers. All I can say now is that no matter what you see or hear, feel or breathe, think and lose, do or touch, remember who you are. It may seem silly now, my little ponies but war..." Celestia said, staring mournfully out over her realm for a few seconds. They had the stare of one whose memories now conspired to do harm and she closed them shut.

"War will kill you long before you die," She finished, shaking her head as she walked towards her subjects. Before they could respond with any of the thousand burning questions in flame on their tongues, she raised her hoof.

"Twilight, I require the presence of you and your friends in the Star Swirl the Bearded section of the library. Head to the farthest section marked 'Pour l'utilisation des droits', and open the door. Inside will be texts not required for an age. I would tell you more, but the Captains of the Guard have been summoned and I have held them all off for long enough. Let Equestria be at your hindquarters, girls," The Princess spoke rapidly, her face starting to take the form of a witness in stone. Passivity ended then, as her wings jettisoned themselved swiftly into her body, the motion blasting the six in front of her with hot, furious wind that jolted them out of their semi-catatonic state. Slowly at first but with gaining momentum, they moved away from the princess and towards the door.

Soon, they were running, running from the rutless waves of reality that claimed their shored up mental defenses one by one. As they burst through the doors leading down the banner-flanked hallway, their hoofsteps took on a manic and crazed character. No matter what they did, however, the drum beat of war that would soon echo out across the land shattered the fragility of inner peace for each of the elements of harmony.

"What good could we possibly be? I don't know the first thing about any sort...of armed conflict..." Rarity whispered more in an effort to shake an answer out of Twilight.

"War, Rarity. It's called a war," Rainbow mumbled aggressively, firing ahead of the group.

"I'd rather not-" rarity tried to field a defense, but Rainbow's head snapped back and ended the effort.

"It's WAR. If you lie to yourself you're not going to be prepared and you'll die and if you die on me I'll never forgive your detail oriented flank," Rainbow spat as she roared at Rarity, her eyes finally revealing the depth of her fear masked by anger. Rarity could only look down while Fluttershy broke her silence.

"Rainbow, what's the matt-" She began, Rainbow unleashing an utterly frustrated howl that echoed far down the lonely hallway.

"What's the matter?! WE'RE AT WAR, WHAT THE BUC-" Dash started up, getting in Fluttershy's face without so much as a single care before she was rudely snapped back down to the ground by an impatient and angry Applejack, who gave a caring glance to Fluttershy before nodding and trotting on, followed by the rest.

"Gosh darn Rainbow Dash, yer interruptin' more than just everypony here! Ah need to think and you're turnin' mah brain into spoiled apples! An' yer scarin' everypony, shut yer trap," She muttered in a vain attempt to bring her friend back around, effort being worth more to her in this regard than any sort of success. Rainbow Dash tried to reply, but bit her own hoof. She knew Applejack was right, and despite her own rising tension, knew she was being a right bitch. She nodded to nopony but herself and followed.

"We're heroes, Rarity. I don't know what she has in store for us, but...well, it has to be this way," Twilight said in response to Rarity's earlier question. She had become used to expectations and despite the horror she knew was in store she was the most capable of coming to terms with lofty goals being set for her.

The group slowed as they neared the wing, which was still silent. A pin drop would have echoed hollowly across the length of the hallway, which would have suited Twilight just fine as she opened the door. There was little to mark this wing as something incredible from the way it was structured, only when one looked at the books did the difference become apparent. Each book was the very greatest in its field, from single-print thesis on the nature of time and how best to manipulate it to copies of advanced and banned black magic, the list was endless. There was one wing even she had never been to, however, and as she galloped towards it, the words that seemed to have been etched above it magically were fading. They had been a ward meant to keep safe the vast trove of documents stored within considered vital to the running of a state and exclusively for use by Royalty.

But now, the wards vanished and tepidly Twilight led the ponies into the old wing. Her expectations were let down, as there were not towering bookshelves overflowing with ancient tomes and the air was not harsh and stuffy from centuries of being contained. There were very few bookshelves, each one organized neatly and with no sense of conspiracy attached. Above, ancient banners unfurled magically, Ancient Equestrian etched into them and in the colors of royalty. The First Heartland, Sixth Coast- names she could only scarcely recall from her texts. Regiments of the Old Army, names long unheard of, their banners preserved by the ward. Twilight now felt as if she was standing in hollow ground, for the great generals of old were supposed to have been buried directly underneath the banners of their old commands. Her hooves felt unsure against the cement below- Celestia knew what lay beneath, but not her charges. She took a few more steps in and found between each row of bookshelves were old oak tables, hoof-carved and etched with dozens of symbols that she couldn't place. She sighed and looked around, spotting the markings above each book shelf. They were not marked with letters, but words: Muster Orders and Manuals, Organization, Strategy and Tactics, Logistics. Her eyes closed in.

"What're we lookin' for, Twi?" Applejack asked, her eyes still taking in this space. She never once thought she'd be entering any place like this, though by this time in her life it was stupid of her to not just accept she was going to be tossed into such situations.

Twilight didn't bother answering, instead cantering towards the Organization section, eating up each and every title.

"Equestrian Staff Organization...Arrangement of Formation..." She trailed off, each and every title being levitated out of position as she passed them. The other five stood flat hooved for a moment in time, unsure of what to do. They knew of course what she was doing, but only slowly started to move out.

"Heartland Muster Order, South, Muster Order North, Coastal West..." Rarity began, doing the same as Twilight gathering up muster orders, Fluttershy behind her pensively gauging the manuals.

"...Equestrian Army Field Manual, Basic Training Primer..." The yellow pegasi whispered as if doing so would lessen the vulgarity of the situation.

"Deploying Pegasi; A Treastise on the Nature of Operational Flanking, the Equestrian Way of War, Formation Warfare," Rainbow Dash had an air of excitement about her as she seemingly dove through the strategy section, picking up any unique text she could and placing them on her back.

"The Requirements of the Equestrian Army, Maintenance of Arms, Feeding The Sword and Resting the Shield: the Nature of Supply," Pinkie added into the mix her own confused and wholly saddened tone, wanting desperately to find within these walls something to elicit an ounce of joy. She failed.

Applejack walked slowly down the same lane as Rainbow Dash, though on the other side. her eyes ate up the texts on tactics, tying to understand what the hay any of it meant. She grabbed every new one silently- The Wall: Deployment of the Lochos in Battle, Using the Centurias, Pilla in Mobile Formation- and hoisted them on her back.

After a few minutes, each pony was carrying or levitating a large collection of books, every unique book in the wing being in their possession. They trotted to the center of the room which hosted the largest and most ornate of all the tables and shared looks, trying to read the books as much as each other. This small moment ended as Twilight lifted all of the books from every pony and started to organize them on the table. After a few strained moments, the six looked upon the pile.

"Ah've never eve' books like these before, Twi," Applejack nearly stuttered before herself, gulping as she read the titles of the assembled tomes of knowledge that no society could escape knowing despite the high ideals of utopia.

"Yeah, we haven't...needed them, and we're going to read them, I guess. Learn them," Twilight said evenly.

A pregnant pause.

"And then we're supposed to teach others?" Rarity asked but before an answer was given, the entrance was breached by a full dozen of the Royal Guards, each one dressed in personalized armor and wearing frowns of the pale sort. Leading the peaceful if intense charge was the Captain of the Guard himself in brilliant purple, Shining Armor, whose pelt hid the color he had turned mere moments earlier. Twilight lost any pretense of control and with shut eyes galloped towards her brother and laid herself across his neck. Like the mountain of strength he was, he supported her entirely and kissed her on her mane, one hoof on her back. Gentle sobs escaped Twilight as the fortress of strength and barrier she kept up for appearances fell in his presence, kin holding no secrets amongst kin.

"It'll be okay, Twiley. Hey- hey, it'll be okay, alright?" He cooed in an attempt to calm her, which had the desired effect as she pulled her head off of him.

"But what about you? The Royal Guards? Equestria doesn't have an army! You're the Captain and you have to-" Twilight started to panic before yet again the aura that was her brother's love calmed her.

"What we have to do is prepare the Royal Army of Equestria, first and foremost. We have the time. What we need are trustworthy, reliable ponies to help us. And by order of Princess Celestia, you six are the first officers of the Royal Army," He spoke with the innate air of authortity natural to those who dominated others through little more than force of presence.

The six ponies looked at one another, the continued revelations of this day not getting any easier.

"B-beg yer pardon?"

"You are all officers of the Royal Equestrian Army, effective immediately. Enomotarchs Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and-" Shiing Armor squezzed his sister's hoof, "Twilight Sparkle, you are to remain here. Enomotarchs Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy, you are to return to Ponyville and help my staff prepare it as a training ground," He said slowly but forcefully, the six nodding with no conscious desire to do so.

"What's an Enomotarch?" Fluttershy asked, her mind failing to formulate any higher thought due to shock. Shining Armor looked up.

"Old term, old term, what's the best modern word..." His mind moved at the speed of a phoenix in an attempt to find an answer. Twilight didn't have to do as much thinking.

"Lieutenant, Fluttershy. We're all Lieutenants," Twilight found solace in knowledge.

"What's a lieutenant?" Pinkie Pie asked, the silliness and inability to answer causing a small ripple of laughter amongst the seven as around them the various Captains of the Guard started to leaf through the shelves, picking out the same collection of books currently on the table. Shining Armor took off his helmet and ruffled his mane before looking out over the six.

"Also, I am no longer Captain of the Guard. I am Strategos of the Army. After I leave this room," His face took on a hint of pain as if the words were barbed as they left his tongue, "We are no longer friends or family, at least in the eyes of rank. You will be my shoulder-spears and hoof-shields. I have to keep this veneer up for the good of all, so please, don't get angry or upset at me if I ever treat you sternly. Do you understand?" He asked and the reply was five slow nods of the head and one salute being shot from Rainbow, whose hover took on a frantic energy.

“Spend the next hour doing what you must, Enomotarchs. After that, say goodbye,” He said as he eyed up Applejack, whose form was as stone. She would make a fine officer; strong, good morality, took orders well, smart even if that intelligence was less well represented in pure knowledge as it was a certain sense of fine luck that seemed inherent to her blessed bloodline. Shining Armor was well-versed on the virtues of his sister’s closest, dearest friends and Equestria’s greatest heroines and saviors. Of them, two in particular stood out as ponies that could be exceptional in their new roles. One would require discipline. The other would just require training in the art of war. They all would because without it, they would be consumed by fire.
They might be anyway.

“Say your goodbyes, girls. I can’t guarantee you’ll have a second chance.”

Apples
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In Flame

Apples

Time flew faster than any pegasi in history when every tick of the clock struck a chord deeper and colder than the last as the march towards war took the form of eventuality. It was all Applejack could do to keep sane was spend the first three weeks away from her friends in a near constant haze of maddening busywork that she was ill-suited for. How ironic was it that one of the strongest ponies they could find in all of the land was doing little more than giving pre-prepared speeches, signing paperwork, and recruiting? She gathered that perhaps nopony in town was quite as well-suited towards recruitment in Ponyville as Applejack. She was trusted, adored, and the ponies of town had a strange loyalty to the Apple Family that could only be attributed to the town's existence being owed to actions of the family. Applejack started to believe that was why she was in charge of recruitment; it was slightly bitter to cash in the town's cache of love and trust in her family by recruiting them for war.

Pinkie wasn't much help, mostly because she was kept busy with logistics. Nopony else around, since Twilight and Rarity were off in Canterlot partaking in activities best suited to a duo of neurotic and detail-oriented unicorns, had the energy or capability to handle it. Applejack could have since she had run the orchard for many years, but her plate was already full. That left Pinkie the task of the quartermaster, corralling what supplies she could in Ponyville before the first actual shipments arrived. There wasn't much to work with, Ponyville not being known for its stock of weapons of war nor for its mass surplus of medical supplies or tents. The only thing Pinkie could readily supply and track was food, something she was more than happy to do. On a few occasions Applejack had to keep Pinkie on task sorting out what was to be stored in Ponyville, given to the army, or used for the town's immediate well being. Contrary to what Applejack may have thought, parties were of vital importance in keeping morale up and the ponies of Ponyville less anxious about the simmering conflict. After one party in particular after her first recruitment drive, Applejack no longer fussed- ponies were happy and oddly willing to recruit in even larger numbers. When added in with the sheer amount of food that was being saved for the army, Applejack could claim no complaint with Pinkie's affairs.

Fluttershy had little she could do, even if she would have been far more readily available than Pinkie. Of all the ponies, she had taken the news the hardest once they reached Ponyville and had taken to locking herself up in her cottage for a few days. She had only been peeled away when Applejack had half broken the door in to send the first two medical recruits to Fluttershy, who was in charge of helping create Ponyville's contribution to the medical corp. It had been an easy first duo to train as both of them were nurses at the local hospital and all Fluttershy had to do was show them once and they took it from there. That had given her the valuable confidence she needed and as Applejack trickled in new trainees, the farmer was herself growing more confident in her friend. Applejack had no doubt about how useless she may be in a fight but war was far more than just fighting, as proper healing and recovery would do more to help an army than any pure number of soldiers. By the end of the three weeks, Applejack had ten field medics and two surgeons, almost double of what she had been ordered to provide thus far.

Between Fluttershy's success and Pinkie's morale-boosting parties and fine distribution of foodstuffs, Applejack's many roles were made easier. The ponies of town felt no need to constantly press the Mayor for some sort of reduction in the town's commitment, meaning when Applejack met with her on a daily basis to discuss where the recruits could muster and where supplies could be stationed, the politician had no nagging complaints to stuff down the mare's throat. The Mayor had been more than accommodating since the start, even before the first and only orders sent from Canterlot arrived. Perhaps she realized the gravity of the situation despite Ponyville seeming relatively secure. Maybe she was a patriot and would give anything to see her beloved town and nation kept safe. Maybe she was a dear friend of the Apple family who knew the weight on Applejack's shoulders was immense and sought no reason to increase it. Or maybe she was a politician playing her games and Applejack's rank was a pawn in her hooves. In all likelihood it was all of these things and more but Applejack could waste not a moment in deciphering truth from lies. Mayor Mare was helpful and Applejack would take all the help she could.

Applejack had to worry about recruitment, which was somewhat more difficult than negotiating with the Mayor. Ponyville was naturally a peaceful town that, like most of Equestria, sought to make friends and live lives of love and peace. War threatened that fabric and the ponies approached the possibility with equal amounts fear and trepidation. It took a valiant few to step forward and offer their services immediately before others discarded cowardly thoughts and stepped hoof in hoof towards her. Six one day, ten the next, four the following. Speeches written were delivered with no noticeable effect as the ponies of Ponyville had made up their minds, even if it would take a while for each and every one to realize it. By the end of the first week she had recruited thirty, the following week forty-seven, and the third week had stopped with an extra sixty. Ponyville was to establish a baseline of at least one-hundred and fifty by the end of the first month before muster orders were to arrive and impress into service up to three-hundred total. Applejack hoped to eclipse the two-hundred mark before the orders arrived, getting in valuable physical work in and building teamwork before the Royal Guards arrived and started whipping them into fighting shape. Better to volunteer than be the unlucky pony torn unwillingly from home.

Beyond setting up a training field, supplies, and the basic recruitment and commitment numbers, Applejack's orders were far too open ended. She knew what she was capable of and what she had and nothing of use in terms of hard military training could be found in the area. In lieu of tactics or weapons training, she opted for marches and other physical activities. While all had joined the army, they had no place to stay but home and little food to eat besides what could be found with family, seeing as the supplies being built up were to be used only for the army once formed. Applejack knew attempting to force this group together under these circumstances was foolish, and allowed them to sleep in their homes, have dinner with their families. Beyond that and the few who were allowed jaunts into town to take care of business, she had them and drilled them. The training books back in the library had been taken by a veritable mob of scribes who were correcting the ancient tomes and reprinting them for widespread use, so Applejack had to go off of what seemed best.

Many, many marches.
They had started off short, maybe one hour outside of town and then back. By the end of the first week, it had been two hours and that had increased until now they were marching four hours out, four hours back. Applejack had guessed that the ponies would have to carry much on their backs and the saddlebags they carried were gradually increased in weight. Apples, rocks, anything that could be used was eventually used, the saddlebags starting off with maybe the requirements of lunch. By the end of the third week, Earth ponies were carrying almost three-quarters their body-weight, Unicorns were levitating almost half, while Pegasi above were keeping up their high speed despite the saddlebags and wing-holders becoming serious burdens.

Had it not been for Soarin, Applejack was certain the pegasi training would be a disaster. Cloudsdale was overflowing with pegasi of a high caliber and upon the declaration of war had sent out dozens of advisors and agents to aid other towns into whipping their own pegasi into shape. Soarin had made the trek to Ponyville within the first week and had more or less dictated to Applejack how he was going to handle the Ponyville pegasi. The Earth-pony was glad to wash her hands of the affair and as she watched the pegasi above fly in good formation, she felt vindicated.

Of course, all was not swell during these marches. Few ponies were beasts of burden like Applejack and many found themselves unprepared for the speed at which Applejack demanded they moved. Pegasi had Soarin and Earth-ponies had Applejack, but the Unicorns felt like the odd pony out and were the source of most complaints. Having to move at a physically demanding pace while levitating one’s increasingly heavy burden was a challenge even on a good day and with little to break the monotony, Unicorns started to slow the entire group down. Applejack countered this with encouragement and a belief they could overcome, and the fact that amongst the townponies these were the ones most willing to throw their futures into doubt meant that very few had turned their back on the burgeoning force. Only four ponies over the course of the first three weeks had hung their heads in shame and, defeated, walked back to town and the ridicule that followed.

Marching was not all they did. Other physical activities such as wind sprints and wrestling were used both as means of some entertainment and ways to test one another. Up above, Pegasi could be seen darting in between cloud cover, chasing one another as Soarin tried to emulate the best he could griffonfighting. Back on the ground, Applejack did her best to remember what she could of the Equestrian way of war and constantly drew blanks. What a comedy this was: The pony in charge of organizing the Ponyville ponies into a military force until the Royal Guards arrived couldn’t remember a lick of what she had so briefly read. She never claimed to be the smartest mare in all of the land and knew that it would one day sink her. For now, she would take solace in the fact that the one weapon she knew that Equestria used, rocks, she had on hoof in plentiful amounts.

Ponyville was ringed by farms, including a scant few rock farms that provided untold numbers of rocks. Untold until Applejack asked Pinkie for exactly half of what they had, and a few days later, sixteen thousand four hundred and eight perfectly sized rocks were placed on Sweet Apple Acres. Applejack was less than thrilled with their location but was happy with the amount, seeing as it was perfect for training. She and Big Mac would often wake up pre-dawn and haul hundreds of rocks to where the marching would step, where they would then set-up scarecrows as targets. By the end of the third week, it was the recruits who were hauling their ammunition to the targets at the end of the long march.

Rock-kickers were valued skirmishers in the Equestrian army. While they were of little use against Griffons or Buffalos, well-placed rocks could injure or kill Diamond Dogs or Zebras. This could entice a static enemy line into a foolish charge, weaken the charge before it hit pony lines, or even cause the enemy to redeploy forces and this was all without counting losses they would inflict. The negative was that they were unarmored as they were to be swift and mobile forces, meaning if caught in open combat they would be massacred. Applejack had no intention of letting that happen just as she had a sneaking suspicion that she was not being asked to lead a group of skirmishers. Still, learning this skill was superior to learning nothing and if there was one thing that Applejack knew as Celestia’s Truth, it was that one could never learn too many skills.

And so they had learned how to kick rocks with purpose behind each bucking of a rock. It had started off rather pathetically, only three hits being scored on the first day out of an obscene number of rocks being kicked. Unicorns were useless, seeing as she had to discount any rock moving so slowly that it was doubtful the enemy would have even felt it. Few had the power to send it shooting through the sky towards a target and Applejack didn’t have any of those unicorns in her little unit. Earth ponies were far more useful, but they were all so green that most couldn’t hit and those that could rarely did so in such a manner as to make Applejack think they counted. After a few days, she had decided that unicorns were to levitate the rocks and aim them and all the Earth ponies had to do was kick them. This proved to be a far more efficient tactic, and with three Earth-ponies to every Unicorn, well-within means. By the end of all three weeks, they were hitting and wounding about fifteen-percent of the time, scoring hundreds of useful hits in any single session.

She was proud of her ponies. They were getting physically fit, accurate, skilled and were working together to accomplish their objectives. She was doing something right, but she had a sneaking suspicion that much of her success could be laid at somepony else’s hooves. He was a mountain of a stallion, his thunderous kicks and unending stamina putting even her to shame. He withstood any physical test with steely determination. He had been banned from joining the army through no official order other than Applejack’s personal desire and yet he had tagged along since the start.

He was Big Mac, Stallion of the Apples, and Celestia as her witness Applejack knew that he would join the army despite her pleading.

***************

Sweet Apple Acres was a true sanctuary for generations of one of the largest and most fundamentally important families in Equestria. It wasn't made overnight nor was it always such a sanctuary, from the hard-scrabble beginnings and the vicious storms from the pre-pegasi colonization era to the swindlers and constant demands as the town grew. Sweet Apple Acres stood next to it as the constant in an evolving land and before Applejack had ever taken her first screaming breath in the world, the Apple Family had stained this land with blood, sweat and tears and earned their place. Applejack had always found comfort in the trees, the way the wind blew, the smell of apples hanging lazily adding to the aura of calm and serenity that allowed a pony to find solace rather than difficulty in hard work. How lucky was she to love her work, love her home, love everything that colored her life; some say she was a pony looking through life with rose-tinted glasses but who gave a hay about roses when there apples that fit the description?

Family played into her content nature to such a degree that it was as synonymous with Sweet Apple Acres. It was a strange thought that none of her friends could claim the sheer change that encapsulated her life with her family and yet of them all it was she who took the greatest comfort in their nature and mere existence. Granny Smith was so old that not only had she outlived all of her siblings save for her much younger brother Apple Strudel, that not a single mare from across the land could lay a claim to anything near her age. That came with its own set of sad milestones, such as burying most of her children, nieces, and nephews and even one unfortunate grand-niece. None of that stopped her from being extremely cheery and full of life and joy, even if her hip had given out and she was physically starting to topple. The matriarch whose stories and actions were as central to the family as their very name wasn't going to go quietly into the night and whatever the Grim Reaper's form, Applejack was sure a few bruises were going to be his punishment for dragging Granny Smith away.

Apple Bloom was the spunkiest yet nicest little sister anypony could ask for. Applejack couldn't describe the depth of love she felt for her little sister and having spent the better part of her life as her caretaker engendered a host of maternal feelings as well. Applejack worried, tossed and turned in her bed, and fretted over everything her sister did with not just the love and care of a sister, but of a mother as well. Sometimes Applejack had to step back and allow Apple Bloom to charge off and commit herself to silliness and trouble, as every filly was want to do. It did her a host of good, her rambunctious nature masking such depths of familial loyalty as to almost be soul-shattering. Apple Bloom would never hurt the family and Applejack resolved to never let family hurt her, and when added to Applejack's already deep reserves of love their bond was inseparable. They had fun together, learned together, worked together. Applejack was blessed to have a sister so well-tailored to good nature. Apple Bloom was blessed to have a sister so devoted.

Then there was Big Mac. Few ponies represented ideals so ideally as he. It was only because he did not represent the Elements of Harmony that it was she who wore one and not he, for if stoicism and work ethic were to be represented nopony in Equestria could compare. If strength or stamina were to be represented, nopony could compare. If being the best damn big brother were to be represented, nopony could compare- not even Twilight's admittedly awesome brother could mount a defense. Big Mac was a mountain of a stallion who could do with one simple extension of a single leg what took Applejack a full on assault, his strength so overwhelming that throughout his life he had been told to be careful and watch out. This was mixed with his natural shyness to produce a stallion of few words; when he spoke, yo listened. He never spoke ill of somepony and was always looking out for somepony else's best interest, his selflessness a shining example to be emulated by all around him. He worked hard and without question, enduring workloads that Applejack herself could only timidly decline in her honest nature. He was the stallion to call, the stallion to lean on and Applejack had leaned on him for much of their lives.

They were no ordinary family. As a filly, Applejack had witnessed their parents getting mauled to death by timberwolves. It had been a mistake born of too much familiarity and that bred a lack of care regarding the various dangers of the forest. It could have been expected out of Applejack's mother, a unicorn who had been in a traveling show who fell in with the most beatific stallion in town, as inexperienced as she was on the nuances of the landscape. Once she had committed that error and her husband committed himself to her defense, their fate was sealed. By the time the collection of seasonal orchard workers and family arrived to drive them off, the wounds inflicted had already ended papa's life and Applejack could do no more than crawl under her mother's form and snuggle in fear and nearly incomprehensible sadness as she too expired. From that funeral on, Big Mac had been expected to grow up far before his time but had done so without complaint.

He helped change Apple Bloom, who was just weeks from her now deceased mother's womb. He helped Granny Smith who was frail even in those days cook and clean and get around town. He worked the vast orchard fields in between these times from dawn to dusk, sometimes before and after respectively. He kept his wayward sister Applejack, who in her grief did everything from wander around Ponyville in a weeping, sobbing haze to running off to Manehattan, in line. He kept her on task, in school, in the right crowds and doing the right things. When she needed help, it was his hoof that was extended. When a bad colt came calling for her, it was Big Mac who took Applejack's angry verbal abuse and with a single kick returned the colt's attempted physical abuse tenfold. Big Mac had given her the hat she wore, the hat worn by their father that was simply too small for the stallion, and it had been he that taught her everything she needed to know about apple bucking. Big Mac was responsible for everything she held dear: The farm still standing, the family still close. He had made Applejack into the mare she was today, even if he would never say nor probably ever thought it. This was only because he had sacrificed practically everything for it. He had a host of health problems that he powered through relating to the years back-breaking labor under all conditions, at times reaching nearly sixteen hours a day. He had no real social life to think of aside from Cheerilee, even with the free time afforded to him by Applejack's maturity. He had no future besides that same labor because he had quit school to work.

He had sacrificed everything but his life and soul and Applejack was determined that if there was one thing she could do to repay her older brother for all of his sacrifice, it was to prevent him from sacrificing that which remained. She was not going to see her brother torn asunder under the inferno of war, either to be killed or to have his soul further scarred. Applejack herself dreaded this eventuality, even if the optimist in her cherished the opportunity for a quick end and peace to come of it. She would not allow her brother in regardless and had told him that her first order as Enomotarch was to ban him from joining the army. It wasn't entirely due to her desire to see him safe, however. He was a stallion of responsibility. The orchard was to lose many of their seasonal workers as well as Applejack, plus Granny Smith was increasingly a pony in such dire physical calamity. Apple Bloom would need a caretaker and Winona needed her medicine; Big Mac was needed here, not out in the mud and dirt.

But he had still followed her on all of the training excursions, stronger, faster, higher endurance and silent stoicism giving others a hero to compare to. It was plain as day what he was doing and Applejack hated him every second of every day for it, especially since she had no authority to tell him to leave. She hated him for it because she knew what the result would be long before he ever asked and as Luna's moon hung over the sky and Applejack rested her body in one of Granny Smith's old rocking chairs, the clop-clop of his massive hooves as they drew close from the orchard stung her head like hornets in a frenzy.

"Ah don't wanna 'ear it, Big Mac," Applejack moaned as the hooves came to a slow stop. Her eyes opened to reveal that her giant of a brother was carrying four whole bushels of apples on his back, catching up as he was on the day's work.

"Well, ya're gonna hear it, 'Jack," He replied, setting the bushels down and sitting down in front of her. Even on his haunches, he came up to her head.

"Don't be so selfish that ya're gonna put the family in jeopardy ov'r somethin' ya aren't needed in, Mac," The mare responded as she sipped the hot chocolate dancing in a mug on her hoof.

"Ah'm not gonna let mah sister, mah fiancee, mah whole dang world go and put their life and limb on tha line while ah'm back 'ome bucking some dang trees all day. Ah'm gonna join, and yer either gonna let me join naw, or ah'll volunteer for tha muster when it 'omes," He replied sternly, not used to having to argue with his little sister. Often his mere presence was enough to force the issue.

Applejack tossed her hoof over her eyes. She knew he was right. When the Guard came and had the muster order, he could join without her so much as being able to fake some control over it. He would be entirely out of her hooves then, the coming dawn. Applejack sighed.

"Ah've known yer'onna ask this, ah tried to ta think o' ways pas it, but I can't, Mac. Ya know ah can't stop ya. Ah know ah can't. But really, really think 'bout this. If we both leave, nopony will be around for Apple Bloom. Granny Smith..." Applejack lowered her voice and bit her lip as she drew close, "We both know she's on 'er last legs. We even took down that one tree to have a nice place ta bury 'er on the very spot where the first barn was built by her great-grand pappy. Whose gonna look after Bloom when she goes if we're still gone? For Land's Sakes Mac, what if we die? Someone needs ta be here for Apple Bloom. For the Orchard! For sweet Celestia, who'll look after tha orchard? Tha farm'd go under and we'd come back ta ruin, both in name AND fortune!" Applejack replied rapidly, her voice gaining desperation as she tried to convince both of them that her reasoning was unstoppable.

Big Mac was silent for a second.
"Ah'll make arrangements," was all he said and it was all he needed to say. So simple a response had dashed her against the rock.

Applejack's face was flush and she slammed her cup down, shattering it against her hoof.
"Celestia damn you, Mac! Damn you for makin' me do this. Why can't you just buckin' agree with me, you selfish piece of soil?!" She started as she got up and loomed over him, eventually appearing snout to snout. She was wild eyed and angry, and he was passive and unmoved. He had expected it.

She huffed a few times and gulped.
"Dawn, town center," She blew through clenched teeth before turning around and storming into the house. In her wake was left a stallion who was as still as he had been the whole time, unmoved or phased by the outburst. After he was sure she was gone, Big Mac took a single strand of straw and put it in his mouth, chewing as he went about finishing his work.

*****************

Dinner was more often than not a family affair, but ever since Applejack had started upon recruiting her fellow ponies, she found herself eating alone increasingly. She didn't like it but had grown accustomed to the time alone to consider ruefully what was in store for the ponies she was bringing along with her. It had served to do little more than allow her to become increasingly darker in tone as the worry compounded upon fears. Apple Bloom needed the rest to get the juices of her constantly moving brain flowing and Granny needed even more just to keep her withered and battered frame from becoming still for the last time. Big Mac was the hardest worker in all of Equestria and despite his immense endurance, even he could not go without sleep. So to see him stay up with her as the rest fell to sleep was a boon for her almost as much as it was a drawback for him.

By the time Applejack had finished her various paperwork duties and Big Mac his orchard work, dinner had become plum cold. Whether or not Granny was upset to see the fruits of her diminishing labor getting wasted was something of a mystery, as the matriarch had kept to herself for much of the past three weeks. Worry could eat at the contented soul as furiously as one given to passion, sometimes even more so when the family line was thin and threatened to be thinned some more. Dinner hadn't suffered in construction and Applejack was grateful to have her hoof-work even if it could be a little cold. Usually it was just one plate that suffered this fate. Tonight it was two as she headed into what was basically Granny's sitting room, Big Mac on his haunches against a wall. Applejack used her tail to hand him a plate as she went to the ground with a relaxed thud.

"Thanks, 'Jack"

Applejack didn't respond, taking the time to dive into the well-cooked daisy. It was something light but she found herself unable to eat anything heavier lately and decided to look at this as an advantage as she found the likelihood of having large, home-cooked meals to be rather slim and it was probably a good idea to get used to lighter meals. That and eating it allowed her to remain somewhat silent, at least for a few seconds longer. She was in no mood to speak with her brother. For a few minutes the two ate in silence, the crackling fire providing the ambient sound. At least the daisy was good. Still, she couldn't avoid it for long.

"Yer welcome, Mac."

Silence again. They had entirely too much to talk about and less time than they could have dared to hope for, so remaining mute was the best use of it. Some things didn't need to be said.

"Eeyup."

"Shut it, Mac. I'm still sore 'bout yer decision. Did ya at least tell Granny Smith?" Applejack tossed her head towards her brother, who had already finished his dinner.

"Nnope."

"Why in tarnation not?"

"She seemed mighty tired. Didn't want ta send her ta bed with such thoughts on 'er mind." Big Mac replied evenly as he set his empty plate on a hoof.

"Ah figure that makes sense, Big Mac, though Ah'm reckoning it had more ta do with ya bein' a coward and all," Applejack said, the sarcasm in her voice only holding a minor amount of deserved venom as she finished off her plate.

"Eeyup," He responded, taking both plates in hoof and onto his back before he walked into the kitchen and out of Applejack's sight.

It was hard to offend him or get a rise out of him, much to Applejack's dismay. Frustrated, she curled up in front of the fire and allowed herself to relax for the first time that evening. Or day, for that matter. It wasn't something she was unfamiliar with but this was a different. She often at least had everything operating on her own terms if she was tired from farm work. Not now. Even if she was adding her own cherished innovations, she was part of a plan and formula many times greater than she and removed from her influence by the sheer volume of its happenings across the country. She had never quite considered the possibility that she desired a degree of uniqueness and contrast from others in her line of work. Nopony was like Applejack, not even other orchard folk and farmers, nor the rodeofolk that she commonly found herself arrayed against. She did things the Apple family way, but even within that broad base she was one of a kind, unique, special, valued. Training these ponies allowed her such little room for reasonable growth and she was so out of her element that she felt like a cog in a larger machine that was just now starting to grind into motion. There was sense to it but feeling as if she could so easily be a number on parchment was disconcerting.

"Ya hear from your friends, 'Jack?" Big Mac asked as he came back in and resumed his position, Applejack's train of thought thankfully stopped.

"Nah, Ah haven't. Ah'm supposed ta be hearin' something soon, but Ah reckon they're all jus' as busy as Ah am. Wouldn't blame them if they weren't able to write or nothin, but...yeah, Ah miss them something fierce. And Ah'm worried 'bout what happens if Ah don't get ta see them and they...well, Ah don't need ta say it, but ya know what Ah mean Mac. Ah don't want our last meeting ta be in a library all shocked and worried, tha last time we talk ta be muttering and stutterin'," Applejack replied swiftly, her voice rising as she expected to be met by some comforting words from her brother.

He took out his stalk of wheat and chewed on it some more, silent save for the sound as his thoughts came together.

"Well, ya have a sturdy bunch a' friends. Still, war's probably gonna be a nasty bit of business...your fear's probably well-founded, sis. But what happens will happen, no sense worryin' about fate," His attempted sage advice fell somewhat flat as Applejack looked back at Big Mac fiercely.

"Mac, Ah ain't gotta accept that drivel not one foot more than an apple tree falls in the wind. We're in charge of what happens, not fate and Ah don't wanna hear such talk from you," Applejack bit back at her brother, her expression softening into a sly smile. "And that's an order."

"Ah don't take mah orders from you just yet."

"Not 'til dawn, Big Mac. But after then, you'll hafta do everything Ah say," Applejack said witha slight giggle. Her brother responded with a moment of silence before he cracked his own grin.

"Not packing any of Granny's dresses, are ya?"

That illicited hearty laughs from both ponies, Applejack's favored reward for a friendly bet between the two not likely to be administered in the army. Unlikely, but she though wryly, probably not impossible. She would need to find the Quartermaster first. Surely they could find some nice summer girdles. Applejack used the brief energy granted her by the laughter to pull herself up and stretch.

"Well, the Guard'll arrive tomorrow at dawn. Long day ahead of us, Mac. Get some rest," Applejack threw her hoof on top of her giant of a brother's mane and patted him as she trotted by.

"Eeyup."

Applejack left her brother in his position near the fire, contemplating the mysteries of the flame as his sister trotted upstairs and to her room. It wasn't long before Applejack's head hit her pillow and sleep started to advance on her. Sleep and a tiny pony who opened her bedroom door not ten minutes after she arrived.

Apple Bloom's head poked into the darkness of Applejack's room, the filly biting her lip and her mane a mess from her bed. Tossing and turning had been the order of the night, sleeplessness coming easily when the mind is sprinting. Applejack rolled over to meet the door with her slightly shut eyes, opening them anxiously before she made out Apple Bloom who now started to enter the room proper, even if pensively.

"Apple Bloom, ya need to get some sleep. You've got school in tha mornin'," Applejack let slip from her position, Apple Bloom having slowed her advance and now looking at the ground and one foreleg rubbing the other.

"Ah know, ah know..." Apple Bloom replied, her voice that often seemed to explode with excitement so unsure and cracking that Applejack's alarms were raised immediately. Apple Bloom took another stutter step forward, which made Applejack respond by sitting up in bed.

"Whatcha need, sugarcube?"

"Ah'm...Big Mac's leavin' too, huh?" She asked Applejack, who nodded in return.

"Yeah, Ah wanted to try and keep him home but, uhh, he had...other...ideas," Applejack replied as her sister looked down.

"...Y'all leavin' tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah- well, we can come back for dinner one last time tomorrow. That should be fun, right?" Applejack tossed out there in an effort to see her sister brighten up. It failed, Apple Bloom suddenly surging towards her sister and launching into a hug. Applejack received her just as the filly started to cry gently.

"Ah don't want none of ya ta go! Ah'm real scared- c-can't they pick other ponies to go? Ah mean, Ah-Ah-" Apple Bloom started blubbering damply into Applejack, who took her sister up and onto her bed, embracing her. It was just like when she was a tiny foal having night terrors and she'd come crying into Applejack's room. The memories were tainted by Applejack's rather erratic teenage year attitudes towards having her sleep ruined, but looking back she could make out the start of a nearly symbiotic relationship. Between two sisters who became friends as well, a bond could be formed of such strength and visceral intensity that imagining one without the other was comical through the sheer ridiculousness of the thought. Applajack's part in this was comfort and tutelage and Apple Bloom provided the emotional hyper-explosion. Applejack soaked it up like a sponge and often found herself empowered to help her. Here, such abilities seemed hollow as she had no answers. That didn't mean she couldn't try.

"No reason worryin' 'bout it, sugarcube. We hafta do what we hafta do and there ain't no point fussin' 'bout it, so don't you worry yourself into a tizzy fit. It's gonna be okay, Apple Bloom," Applejack cooed into her sister's ear, Apple Bloom responding by squeezing her sister tighter and looking back up in an effort to pierce the veil of Applejack's calm expression.

"Yer gonna be alright, right? Ah don't know what Ah'd do if-"

"Shush it, Abby. Y'all don't hafta worry yerself 'bout it. Ah'm gonna take good care of Big Mac and, well, Ah reckon Ah'll be just fine too. Ya hear me? We'll be fine. Promise!" Applejack pulled herself back from her sister and used her hoof to wipe tears off, which was proven somewhat easier than she may have feared.

"Y-ya promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

Some silence, the short and fierce embrace broken by Applejack kissing her sister on the top of the head and smiling.

"Ya wanna sleep here with me, sis?" She offered sweetly, giving her sister a reassuring squeeze. Apple Bloom didn't audibly respond, instead nodding and drilling her head through Applejack's mane some more. Applejack smiled and with excitement wiggled her way further from the side of the bed, throwing the blanket aside.

"Well, whatcha waitin' for? Get in!" Applejack tilted her towards the open space and smiled, Apple Bloom following quickly. She snuggled in towards the end and Applejack closed in, throwing the blanket over both of them and repositioning both ponies. After a few moments, they both faced off the right side, the back of Apple Bloom’s head blocking Applejack’s view and her little body reaching to Applejack’s stomach. Applejack had her left hoof around Apple Bloom, keeping her close and tight, warm and safe, her sister throwing both forelegs over the single arm. They were warm, safe, content. It was nice. In that moment of time, all thoughts of war, danger, threatening motions and looming horror left. It was just two best sisters forever forever entangled in their own bond, as perfect a feeling as she could ever hope for.

“Ah love you, big sis.”

“Ah love you too, little sis. Goodnight.”

Applejack obeyed her own order immediately.
She would later regret that.