Author's note: This is directly related to the Demon of laughs story. If you are not aware of what this canon is, I recommend you read Demon of laughs before reading any subsequent Pinkie Pie stories relating this version of the character.
Canterlot was the final battleground of the great war, every single year the final showdown was always at the foot of it's mountains. No matter what stratagem or tactic any great general took, the losing side could always rely on one thing to survive complete defeat. So long as they could bar the enemy entry from the ancient city, all will not be lost. To take Canterlot was to win the war, but one must get past its protection first. Since time immemorial the city was a forbidden one, enchanted with eons worth of wards and barriers from both sides. By the general consensus it would take a full six months of holding the city and slowly chip away at the enchantments with both magic and sheer brutality. A prospect that is both seemingly impossible and fatally wasteful. No army of all Equestria has ever held the city for more than a few days nor did any have the capability to last a full six months in the first place. But someday somepony will do it, and neither side would be damned to let it happen without a fight. Until then the war continues as it has for thousands of years.
Commander Night Wing awoke this morning with a sense of frustration. The kind he's had for days now. He was so powerless to do anything, and as a general with an army on his back, this was a terrible feeling. Lives were at stake and time was running short. In fact, he realistically knew he already was and merely trudged on by the sheer principle of it. If this was no attempt at rescue then revenge would have to suffice. Barking orders as he went, he let the camp have it. All of his frustration and rage and guilt and sorrow and rage. He gave it to them all until his voice had become hoarse.
It was all their fault. The young commander thought as he made his way up the nearest hill. His incompetent, useless army left to wallow in the glow of his fury and rage. Though to the various veterans amongs his ranks, he would no doubt be hearing them spread jeers and rants over his "tantrums." He hated them all and in hindsight he hated his own kind heart and in turn his soldiers couldn't help but feel contempt for his weak choices. But never openly admit so, for to say so would damn you a demon and a heartless creature that was not worth any respect of any of your peers.
After all, if you were in his position, would you have refused the pleas of help from so many ponies? Would you have the balls to abandon good soldiers and ponies to their fate? Would you do it, while your soldiers looked on, judging you, coaxing you to do the right thing, the moral thing, the foolish thing of helping a pony in need?
The ponies would damn you, the regret would haunt you, but maybe... just maybe... your soldiers would respect you. But kindness in war was a show of weakness. In any place but the battle field, doing the right thing was what anypony should do. But a good soldiers lives to kill another, and then to someday die in the battlefield.
"I should have left them. I should have left them."
For hours he let the feelings well with his mantra as the army lived on without him. His presence clearly unmissed, to his annoyance. There was no fear or quiet vigil in the wake of an angered commander. They were cheerful to be rid of him awhile, their voices rising up into the eternal night for even his ear in the distant hill to hear so clearly like a clarion call to reality. They had no respect for his authority whatsoever, now, if ever. And it was all his fault. His force was the finest in the republic's army, so disciplined and so experienced in war as to not need babying every minute of every hour from an inexperienced commander.
With his now customary grimace he surveyed the dark land with apprehension, by the silver glow of the moon it was past noon already. And preparations have been made to set out to join the battle at Canterlot. To finally join the battle, might one add.
"Just one more night my ponies. I will be there soon." Night thought bitterly as he looked to the east, swearing that he could see the castle if he looked to the horizon hard enough, mayhaps even past it to the enemy capital beyond.
For nights now they had received couriers and messengers from the main battle force. Requests for reinforcement and aid came every single night of their march with not a single arrival free from holding some form of mutilation upon their features. Sometimes they came one by one or in huge droves that limped and trudged with desperate relief on their faces. He couldn't have refused them could he? That was what ran through his mind every single time, so long as a pony was alive they could fight another day. It would be an evil thing to do to let allies die when something could have been done. Everypony was there to help each other, it was a collaboration. One favour here would be returned someday, mayhaps even saving his own hide. That was the philosophy he followed at least, though mayhaps the elder officers were correct to call it naive idealism.
It was clearly he who is the idiot here. The fool that has doomed so many lives to save a meagre few. He would shoulder this regret for the rest of his life, willing or no. He would have the lives of his fellows over the distant horizon eastward on his conscience. His sloth, the fault of their deaths.
Now carrying as much wounded as able hoofed ponies, they had all slowed to a crawl. Limping at the pace of the decrepit horde of ponies that incessantly moaned in pain and ache at the prospect of traveling. It frustrated Night Wing so much. With every wasted minute limping like this, lives were being lost. And should he choose to deny his wounded escorts his company any longer, his men would only use it to further undermine his authority and the validity of such. He was trapped in his own mistake that his galled him to such extremes that being angry at himself just didn't suffice.
What would take a mere three days march, now took them twelve. He had no doubt that much of the main force was gone. He only saw himself as a relief force at this point, all he could imagine to do was rear guard the tired and wounded back to the capital so that they would send a fresh counter offensive their way. Much in the way these horrified ponies hoped of them. This was the cycle of war, existing for thousands of years. He looked to the horizon even harder than before. He swore the beginnings of a dawn was encroaching upon the land. The day was surely gaining ground this very instant.
"Is everything well commander?" A fair coated mare walked up to his side, looking out from the hill he stood and down into the dismantling camp below. Something about it all seemed off. Normally the camp would be ready within a few minutes after the crack of dawn. Mishaps piled on top of each other until eventually a full-blown shambles was the result. There were bad omens in war and there was this. He had come up to the hill to look at the picture from a different perspective. But also to temporarily shirk his duties. A dire sin he knew but he needed this. A single moment, that was what he needed. A moment to think on how everything about this whole ordeal just seemed... off.
"You feel it too my lady?" Night Wing had finally lost his stiff upper lip. He couldn't force himself to pretend everything was fine anymore. He needed to vent his worry to some pony. Surely she could be trusted with his secret. Night Wing looked to the unicorn beside him and waited for the reply.
Her twin tailed star-moon cloak fluttered by like pegasus wings in the wind. She was silent in contemplation. He knew that she was listening intently but her cold mannerisms gave way to doubt as always. Who knew what ran in the minds of unicorns like her? Mares in general mayhaps, the never ending mystery and mysticism of the fairer race. One thing was for certain, she knew more than what she let on. As are the ways of her kind.
"Lady?" The twilight blue unicorn had made no reply and merely walked down to join the army below. Night Wing called out again but she didn't so much as slow. As if she had fully expected him to follow she began to speak the moment he moved to meet her.
"I want your army to retreat back to the capital. We have all been played for foals." Her piece spoken she enveloped herself in a deep blue bubble that popped and vanished before him. In the far distance he saw the mare's magic flash at the edge of the camp. She stood there unmoving her attention towards the other side of the camp, her horn infused with charging magic. You should move Night Wing. Do as she says. But he refused to budge, not until he was satisfied with what was amiss. Or rather what else has gone amiss. Night Wing followed her line of sight. Looking to the center of the camp had him witnessing the unravelling of his command tent as it caught to flame and ponies all around were being murdered by their fellows. To the east edge ponies were fleeing away to the west and upon the horizon something was approaching.
A presence of such intensity that, she could be felt more than seen in the distance. An overwhelming dread and fear inducing aura that seemed to bring him soul to its knees and have him scream out in panic. He kept his resolve, but clearly his fine soldiers, veterans all of them, demon slayers, dragon killers, solar executioners all, fallen to the madness of such heart destroying fear.
It was a single pink mare, purposely hopping towards the camp with a small retinue of wounded ponies. They shambled across the field in time with the Pink mare's hopping as they played or sang horrid, painful music. It was the likes of which that mimicked the sound of the dead or dying, like a marching band of damned ponies. They gave off a weird unnatural aura to them. As if they didn't belong. In some way they exist and yet it felt like they shouldn't, as if some form of natural law had been violated and mocked. And by the looks of the ponies below, they felt it too. This twinge in his heart, the harrying of fear and dread threatening to explode in fit of... something! The ever present dilemma came to him by a will not of his own it seemed, was he to fight or run? The indecision, as ponies killed them, paralysed his fellow soldiers.
She was at the edge of the camp now and seemingly unprovoked the night soldiers had made a charge towards her. But by their war cries every pony knew they were afraid. They were desperate. They just wanted that pink mare to go away and return to their nightmares. And for that first moment Night Wing thought they just might succeed in the magic of wishful thinking, as they charged fully armed. Rifles sounded, bombs exploded and ponies charged the fray. Everything that could be done to make that pink pony go away.
They came in droves at first but very soon they began to flee. Delayed by the distance he was noticing, for the first time, panicked screams of his ponies. No pony that joined the melee were spared and everypony else was now abandoning their tasks preparing to leave, to merely fleeing. Even without the weight of their packs to weigh them and slow them their efforts were useless. They fled in their haste only to be met by their fellow ponies and left standing there with no where to run. While on the other side of the field, the unicorn mare had sent wave after wave of the elite guard to deal with the threat only to be also stopped in their tracks by a wall of ponies.
This was what chaos looked like. The young commander thought. Something so fatal and terrifyingly evil could only come from the power of demons.
"Luna help us... no." What he first thought were his soldiers parting out of the Pink mare's way was in fact something much worse. He took a galloping run and took to the sky.
-
"Retreat my ponies. Run for your lives." Pinkie Pie looked up at the voice in the sky. It was an ornately armoured dark stallion. His coat jet black and mane a midnight blue. Taking advantage of this momentary distraction a tall dark stranger took the chance to buck Pinkie in the face. The blow would normally cave a mare's skull in, but not Pinkie Pie. It merely made her mad.
"Pop." She spoke simply. Her usually pink eye had turned into a black iris with a crimson pupil. And the broken skin had revealed feathers beneath her mortal veil. Her flat pony teeth turned to sharp canine daggers interlocking into her initial grimace forming a sadistic grin. It only took a moment for the fear to take you. Hazarding a mere glimpse the night soldier shivered with pain, his body pulsating. He squelched loudly as his innards churned and with a final hysteric scream of terror, he popped into a shower of entrails and streamers and confetti and blood.
More charged into the pink mare, out for revenge for their fallen comrade but they too exploded in evisceration. From both the air and the ground, no pony survived when they got near. This creature was a monstrosity. That idea dawning on everypony, panic and fear came through the ranks like a wave as they ran with as much as they could muster.
But it was useless.
"My lady, we need to flee." Night Wing had done all he could which was essentially nothing. Strategems ran through his mind in a cascade of ideas but not a one matched the situation he had. With his force in the fits of panic and disorder there was simply nothing else he could do but vainly shout orders. Most ran, while others stubbornly stayed to pointlessly delay the Pink monster's advance. But what made it all so disastrous was that there was no order to it all, as ponies stampeded, obstructed and hurt fellow ponies in their panic. What else could he ask of them when they were like this?
But he knew that no matter the situation, there was always something to do. Something to salvage from the disaster. If he could do that, he would at least hold one less regret on his shoulders. His only realistic objective would be to bring the unicorn to safety. Magicians were few and far between in the republic, they were to be protected with one's lives. However she wasn't listening to him, as she was preoccupied with things he most likely could never fathom.
The unicorn switched to her magic sight. Ponies glowed with a eerie pink aura as the Pink mare's spell did its worse. Like a pungant smell, the pink smoke waft from the mare and caressed against everypony she could see. Infecting everypony she could see, all across the field, in all directions. It took all of her effort to not fall to the spell herself. With a complex improvised enchantment she managed to form an immunity to the demon's spell. There was nothing in her that was able to do anything more, if she were of higher learning perhaps she could summon an Ursa or bathed everypony in the blessings of the stars. So this is what her ladyship meant by humility, I was indeed never as talented as I thought. With her swag and flair, she finally realised she was useless when it came to the moment of truth. Lady Trixie, I apologise for my arrogance. I should have listened and stayed under your tutelage.
But surely even I could do something. What she lacked, was knowledge. This battle was lost but surely she could learn something from it. Her eyes looked focused to the pink mare. Teach me something Pinkie Pie.
Observing carefully the actions of the little pink mare, the unicorn knew of horrors beyond normal eyes. To mortal eyes the demon seemed to merely walk forwards with ponies exploding all around her. But with this magical vision she knew there was more to it than that. In the instant of instances Pinkie Pie flashes her true form. With claws that frantically scratched asunder ponies to shreds. Bladed wings that sliced ponies to ribbons. And mismatching horns that cast deathly party magic rendering ponies to a party-themed pulp. All enacted in impossible speeds and yet for all the world she somehow knew that this was just her toying with those soldiers. She was a force of nature in these eyes, a deity in and of herself. An unfathomably powerful monster.
But surely she had some sort of weakness.
"Agh!" As if sensing the unicorn's building up magic, the pink mare made to look at the eyes of the one that would harm her. The unicorn's blue eyes had turned a pale silvery grey and the horn on her head had become inert with magic. She waved her hoof to her face but she saw nothing. It had only took a glimpse of those demonic eyes the unicorn swore but that was all that Pinkie needed it seemed. A mere glimpse into those evil demon eyes and the unicorn's own had become useless. Groping about in the dark, she panicked. Screaming all the while. Fear had finally taken her too.
"I'm blind! I'm blind commander! Help me Night Wing. We need to flee. That monster is unstoppable." Night looked at the once pristine emotionless mask turn into something pony-like. The horror in her eyes and the features on her face... they were the kind of expressions that would haunt you in your nightmares.
Sparks flew out of the unicorn's horn but no magic was forming. But with each new burst the spark went from embers to flashes. What she needed was a little time to recover her magic Night Wing realised. However...
"It's too late, I'm afraid." Commander spoke grimly. In the utter chaos it took awhile to notice but as his soldiers' numbers dwindled he could see now that there were traitors in the ranks. The ponies they clothed and fed and nursed to health were systematically backstabbing the ponies that helped them. Many were horribly mutilated with missing limbs and wore patches of scarred flesh. But as useless as they would normally be, killing panicked soldiers was like slaughtering children, even by the hoofs of these fiends.
"I was overconfident. I thought I could do something." The mare backed away blindly into Night Wing who nuzzled comfortingly at her face.
"I thought the same." Night Wing replied. Resigning to the idea that this disaster was all of his fault. At this late stage, even at the start of this evening he knew there was nothing that could be done.
"What's done is done. We did what we thought best. I have no regrets." The commander of only seventeen falls old lied. He accepted his fate with the most bitter amounts of regret and endless longing to live for a new night. Just one more with the pony he loved. But then again, why wait for it? Dying beside the one he loved mayhaps have been the greatest day of his sad and horrific life. His dreams of a family of hearth and home might have been unrealistic. He certainly knew growing old was a silly idea since foalhood. Why had life been this way for so long?
The cultists had formed a loose encirclement upon them. Through the gaps he saw dead ponies shot down in the distance. when the gap closed he held his mare tight. Gathering as much courage he could he inhaled deeply and looked to the ponies by his side. A mere twelve against eighty. A few pegusii flew up to escape but they were swiftly cut down by rifle fire. Their own rifles.
Once there was twelve and now a mere five.
"Form up ponies." The gaps between the cultists had now closed. They had began to sing an eerie song when they began to encroach. Pinkie Pie sang verses and verses of her song while the cultists chanted solemnly.
Come on everypony die die die
none in Ponyville will miss you miss you
all I really need's a lie lie lie
and things will be just fine
Come on everypony die die die
I'll be right behind to kill you kill you
all I really need's a lie lie lie
and things will be just fine
"Charge!" In a single direction his soldiers charged with as much force as they could. With Night Wing at the head the initial impact was epic, as cultists flew with further broken limbs and bones bending and snapping at weird angles. But it was a small victory and the numbers told the story. With each passing moment the crowd encircling them made the wall of flesh thicker and thicker. Night Wing with his ponies putting their all into the effort had managed to fight his way to the edge. Already bleeding out from mortal wounds that would have killed a normal pony.
"Run." Night Wing spoke to the mare beside him and with a flash of blue light she teleported out of the encirclement and galloped into an unknown direction. She ran as fast as she could, cloaking herself with a mist of night and a simple barrier to stave off being shot to death. She had no idea where she was going but she hoped it was somewhere where she can get help.
Night Wing took the last of his lung full and screamed at her to run. His mouth and throat gurgled with the sound as his lungs filled with blood, and with finality, he fell, pin-cushioned by barbed harpoons and daggers.
Pinkie Pie watched as her followers slaughtered the last of the night soldiers. But as the one that looked like the one in charge screamed his last, she looked to the distance and began to walk, singing along as she went.
Yes the perfect gift me
is a smile as wide as mile
to make me happy as can be
die die die die die
come on and die
come on and die
"Little unicorn."
