[We Will Live On] Chapter: 3

We Will Live On

By: Michael Abell

Celestia sat on her throne. It was one she knew she had earned, growing and maintaining a kingdom of safety and harmony. Yes, there had been a few hiccups along the way, problems that she felt that she could have solved differently, altered the outcome for the better. But, the past was always the past. Those who live as long as she has know this best.

The mare let out a sigh, her issue of the day still plaguing her mind. Yes, she did not agree with her ponies methods, but the end result did end in the safety of her ponies. Does the end justify the means? Was the culling of countless worth enough to secure safety without a doubt? She had thought long and hard on this issue, spend many a night pondering her stance on the dilemma. It was one she felt that she didn't truly have an answer for. And, when she couldn't find an answer for a problem, she would find somepony who could. And that somepony should be arriving any minute now, given her need for punctuality.

The goddess of the sun looked up and gauged the time on the throne room’s clock. She did not need to, as her sense of time was practically perfect, as was needed to make sure the sun rose at the right time every day, but it was still a habit that she felt herself being drawn into.

Suddenly, the door to the throne room opened, and in trotted a familiar purple unicorn with her faithful dragon missing from her side, per her request. Celestia observed her student, inwardly chuckling at the large, bulky saddlebag full of books that hung at her side. Oh, Twilight, some things will never change.

Twilight trotted up to her mentor and bowed, giving her respects. “I came as soon as I could, Princess! So, what do you need me to do? Are we under attack? Did another ancient demon escape?!”

Celestia chuckled, waving down her student. “No, no, Twilight. Nothing of the sort,” she said in her motherly tone as she stepped down from her throne, nuzzling her student.

The purple unicorn nuzzled back, opening her saddlebag and levitating out several books, most likely deemed unrelated by the unicorn in question. “Oh, okay… Then, what is it?”

Celestia sighed, sitting next to her student. “I do not need to have you and your friends go on a quest, or anything of the sort. All I require is an answer to a question that has been on my mind for quite some time.”

Twilight cocked her head. “Oh… okay? What is the question?”

The solar princess let out another sign. “Does the end justify the means? If you accomplish a task that needs to be done, does it truly matter how you do it?”

Twilight opened her mouth, but soon shut it. The unicorn seemed to travel deep in thought. “Well, I guess I can't really answer that without proper context. I mean, wouldn't it be unique for each situation?”

The princess nodded. “Yes, this is true.” She thought for a second. “Well, how about this: is it better to eliminate a threat at the source, or simply leave it be, and hope it doesn't grow back.”

This time, the unicorn seemed more confident in her answer. “Well, I guess it would be better to get rid of the problem at the source, rather than waiting for it to come back.” She tilted her head. “What is this all about, anyways?”

Celestia bit her lip, contemplating telling her student what had transpired, and the moral dilemma that followed. Finally, she gave in. “Well, I guess you are trustworthy enough to admit this. A few months ago we launched a counterattack at the changeling hive, capturing all we could and cutting down all those who resisted. This was deemed the best course of action, as our safety is the number one priority.”

Twilight nodded, taking in the information. “So… I’m guessing you don't agree with this course of action?”

Celestia nodded. “I love my ponies more than life itself, but I also love all species that wander this land, even those who wish us harm. Changelings have been a… pest, in the past, but were never bold enough to be considered a threat. I feel that is is my fault for not being more prepared for this. I believe that something must have happened to warrant this kind of action from them.” She shook her head. “I am glad and relieved that the threat is gone, but–”

“You don't agree with the cost,” Twilight finishes, and Celestia nods in agreement.

“I have made hard decisions in the past, Twilight. Decisions with consequences that I hated, but felt they were necessary. Other times, I have run into the same issue that I face now. It never gets easier, Twilight, and this is the dilemma that all rulers will eventually face. I am not a god. I am merely a guide to help my ponies through life. I am not a dictator, and will give them the gift of free will, but sometimes that comes at great moral cost. I have tried to shield you away from my role in government, separate you from the hard decisions that I have to make as a leader, but now I think you're old enough to finally get a glimpse of what it is I do.”

Twilight smiles, eager at the prospect of learning more from her believed mentor, but frowned when said mentor’s question filled her mind. “I… I don’t know what to say.” And she truely didn’t. The invasion was still fresh in her mind as well, and soon the image of her beloved princess being beaten by… by her came to mind. She scowled. “After what they did to my friend… after what they did to my friends… after what they did to my brother. I think they deserve what they got.”

Celestia frowned. “ I was overruled by the conceal, all except me voting with that exact same mindset. Weather it was made from that mindset, or just fear, it was the decision that was made, and the one carried out. The changeling race now sits in our dungeon or in the grave…”

The purple unicorn notices the sad look that appears on her mentors face, and her anger begins to subside. “I… I cannot forgive them for what they did, or for what they tried to do. They tried to hurt ponies that I care deeply about, and I think they should be punished.” She lets out a sigh. “But… if I look past my anger… then I get what you are saying. We should have waited and thought out the issue before responding, and not let hate cloud our judgement, like I did now…”

“A decision made on hate almost always ends with regret, Twilight. Anger is a powerful thing, a force that I have seen corrupt so many. I do not think of you less for you answer, I am merely saddened that I could not convince the others on the council of this.”

Twilight looks down, her head held low. “So… what are you doing to do now?”

The princess shrugs. “Nothing. There is nothing I can do. The decision has been made, the hive has been raided, and their queen now sits in chains. There is nothing I can do, now.”

“Then… then why did you call me here? Why did you summon me here to ask my questions about something you cannot change?” The unicorn asks, clearly confused.

The solar princess chuckles, shaking her head. “I guess I just needed a second opinion to make sure that I wasn't crazy. I may be a princess, but I still need to make sure that I am leading in the right direction every once in awhile. Believe me, I am far from perfect.”

Twilight chuckles. “Well, you could have fooled me. You are a good leader, and a fair one.”

I wish that was true, Twilight. Celestia smiles and nuzzles her student. “Thank you, Twilight.” She stands up from her seat besides her student. “But, let us not dwell any further on the issue. I did tell you that I thought you were ready to start learning about politics, did I not?”

The unicorn beams, the prospect of both spending time with her mentor and learning filling her with joy. “Yes!”

Celestia chuckles, wrapping a wing around her student. “I love the enthusiasm. Now, how would you feel about joining me in court?”

“Are you an idiot?!” Soft Wing hissed at the General, her wings flared and her fangs showing. “You had her establish a hive mind?! You know that could have killed her!”

The General didn’t respond to the teachers threats, standing stock still and listening carefully. He had faced far worse then the drone that stood in front of him. He nodded. “Yes, I did. I knew the risk, and I wish I didn’t need to to have been done, but we need to have some sort of connection between us. We have changelings still trapped out there, I can hear their cried for help now, and we can now rescue them, or at least give them comfort in their final moments.” He shook his head. “I knew she could do it. She is stronger than a even a princess her age should be. I have seen her prove it again and again. I wouldn’t have done it if the reward wasn’t worth the risk.”

The teacher continued her death stare at the changeling, before sighing and lowering her stance. “Okay, I guess that makes sense.” She lowers her head. “I’m sorry, I guess it was just my teacher instincts kicking in.”

The general smiled, putting an armored hoof on her shoulder. “Do not apologize, I would have thought less of you if you didn’t react this way. And is the exact reason why I am putting you in charge of her care.”

Soft Wing’s eyes shot open wide. “Me? You want me to take care of a princess?”

“No, I want you to take care of a child. She may be a princess, but she is still young. She needs something constant right now, someone who can give her care. I am a soldier, I know death more than I know children. You were a teacher, correct?”

Soft Wing nods. “Yes, head teacher of the south wing.”

“Then that makes you more qualified to take care of a child than anyling else here. I have hardened soldiers who are currently bawling their eyes out because of what

has happened, changelings who I thought I could count no matter what. But, they have broken, given up. But you… you still remain strong. Instead of laying down and weeping for what you have lost, you stay strong enough to challenge me, a general, over the welfare of a child who isn’t even yours. If that doesn’t sound like someling I can count on to take care of child, then I don’t know what to think.”

Soft Wing opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The teacher falls to her haunches, taking a moment to contemplate the general’s words. “Okay, I’ll do it,” she says, her gaze returning to the general. “And thank you… your words mean a lot.”

He nods, motioning over to the area he had left the sleeping princess, before trotting off. Soft Wing takes a moment to compose herself, taking in all that had been said, before trotting over towards her new charge. Aurora was currently tucked into a bundle of salvaged blankets, tucked into a currently unused corner of the cavern, far away from the wounded. She lay in her cocoon of warmth, snoring slightly. The teacher let out a soft smile, laying down next to to the young princess, who immediately shuffled closer to the new source of warmth.

Soft Wing smiled, resting her next to that of her princess, closing her eyes to get some much needed sleep.

The general slowly paced around the cavern, watching and directing over the remaining changelings. There were about two dozen changelings currently in the cavern, excluding himself and the princess, with about another dozen or so still crying out through the newly established hive mind. Three dozen. Thirty three changelings remained out of a hive of three thousand. The cavern was currently divided into three sections, the first and largest being the infirmary, a second dedicated to gathering salvaged material from the hive, and the third was for sleeping and whatever you could consider recreational use.

He trotted over to the infirmary, his ancient armor softly clinking with each step. Once he approached, he scanned the pile of wounded changelings for one in particular, and sound found her tending to a changeling who was currently missing a front hoof. He trotted over to her, making sure to not disturb her work. “Nurse Scar Heart, could you spare a moment?”

The nurse mumbled something, her attention currently set on stitching the stump of what was left of the unconscious changeling below her. After a few more knots, the nurse cut the thread with her teeth, and placed her needle besides her. She turns to face the General, a somber look on her face. “Yeah, I can. What do you need?”

The general nods, motioning to the rows of changelings laid out on makeshift cots. “What’s the situation?”

She shakes her head. “Not good. Several more deaths since you last checked up on me, and I was only able to save one from the last batch the scouts brought in, the rest were too far gone...”

He nods. “At least you were able to save one.”

She shakes her head. “It’s just that I’m only one changeling, I can’t attend to everyling at once! I manage to stitch up one, only to have another to die of my inaction. It’s… it’s just…” She sighs. “I don’t have time for this, I have patients to attend too,” she says as she pushes past the general.

He watches her trott past, then shakes his head. He felt horrible for asking so much out of so few. He had only a hoof ful of changeling who were well enough to do anything, and about half of them were still working off their grief, too worked up to be of use to anyling. He respected all that had remained strong, currently doing all they could. So much had changed so fast, so much blood had been spilled, so many lives had been lost.

The hardened general shook his head once again, finding himself pushing back the situation and feeling farther and farther back each time. He knew that he could repress the memories for so long before they came flooding out like water from a broken dam. Deciding that all was going as well as it could, the general made his way towards a little area that he had claimed as his own, shrugging off his armor, and laying down onto his makeshift cot.

He knew that sleep would not come, too much was clouding his mind to let that happen. No, his goal wasn’t for sleep, but simply a rest, a few moments of peace before he had to jump back into the world. His mind wanded once again about the recent past, and this time he didn’t hold back, letting lose all of the emotions and memories that filled his mind like a cancer.

His mind wandered first to the attack. The original attack. His memories as fluid as if it had just happened…

Ghost hovered just outside of the grand shield of pink magic that surrounded his target, watching as the drones under his command rammed their bodies into the magical obstruction. He knew that his Queen’s plan would soon fall into full swing, the shield would be down soon and he would lead the charge to secure the city. He was on edge about the plan, know fully well how that they normally stood no match for the ponies and their army, but he also knew what was at stake, and used that as fuel to drive him forwards.

He watched as the bubble finally fell, and charged with the rest to encompass the city. Changeling were not as powerful as ponies on their own. They were hive creatures, relying on numbers rather than might. As he touched the ground, he watched as the Equestrian guard began their defense, surprised by the influx of unknown enemy. Changelings had lost most of their remembrance by the ponies, and planned to use that to their advantage. Ghost Step sprang into action, leading the charge and combatting the first guard he encountered. Like his name implied, the general moved like a ghost, his movements quick and almost ethereal, the guard barely charging his spell before the pointed spike of Ghost’s morphed hoof jabbed straight into his chest. The pony gargled, falling limp as the general pulled out his morphed blade.

One by one, the ponies fell by his hoof. He watched the life drain from their eyes, before turning around and attacking another one. He was not invincible, taking more than his fair share of hits from skilled or just lucky guards, but they did little to stop him. He did not hate ponies, nor did he love them. He treated them like anything he had ever fought before, like a barrier that needed to be broken down.

Ghost and the rest of the changeling army continued the assault, following the queen’s last order before she had gone dark. Slowly, the army approached the gates of Canterlot Castle. The queen had told her hive to kill as little civilians as possible, as a dead pony produced no love, no food. He took this into account, and avoided challenging anypony that was deemed a treat. Many fought back, many died, and many ran away screaming.

Suddenly, the world flashed in a blast of pink magic, the general’s body became weightless as he was thrown back by a wall of incoming magic. He tried to fight it, but was caught far too off guard, and was hit by far too much force. His vision faded to black once he felt himself finally hit the ground.

When he came too, his whole body ached. Bones felt broken beneath his chitin, and everything hurt to move. Weakly, he cast a healing spell to stop any internal bleeding, and used the rest of his stored mana to heal his bones as best as he could. Forced healing was a painful, brutal process, and very few could concentrate long enough through the pain to keep the spell going, or even stay conscious. Ghost was one of those few who could, his tolerance to pain tested again and again over the years. But, even so, it hurt enough to make him scream out in pain, feeling as his bones inside of him shift and right themselves. He kept this up until his mana reserves ran dry, and he didn’t have enough magic to keep up the spell. He lay there, panting, his body forced back together.

Eventually, the pain subsided enough that he could return to his hooves, and he did so, albeit slowly. He took a wobbly step, barely able to support himself as he trotted forwards. He had landed at the edge of the badlands that the changelings called home, the scarred earth crunching under his every step. As he walked, his scarred and torn wings chirping roughly, echoing out a call as he tried to locate anyling else who had survived.

After a while of searching, he found a few, but their was no hope for them. The impact had been too much for most, either lucky enough to die on impact, or from slowly bleeding out. He prayed for each of them, soldiers who had followed their queen into battle, under his command. His mind was still fuzzy, and his body was still injured from the impact, only healed enough for him to move freely.

After hours of wandering aimlessly through the badlands and only finding craters that contained his dead brethren, he finally gave up, deciding that it would be best to return to the hive and consult his queen about the failure. His failure.

It would take him a week to get back to the hive in his current condition, his wings too shredded to fly, and his mana supply too weak to cast any form of teleportation spell. He tried to connect to the hive mind, but found that he was unable too. This worried him, and his fear and horror only rose when he finally made it home…

The general shook, knocking himself out of his mind. He could not remember what came next, the memory still to painful to recounter. He sat up onto his hooves, leaning his back onto a nearby stone. He felt rage fill his body at the sparing memories of the slaughter he had witnessed when he finally returned to the hive, both aimed at himself for not being there to stop it, and by the ponies who had caused it.

He had cursed the pony name, originally vowing to slay the entire pony race, but his rage soon subsided, his inability to act on his anger allowing him time to think through the situation, and see it from a different point of view. If the roles had been reversed, and the ponies had been the ones to attack his hive, his home, he knew that he would have done the same, perhaps worse. After all that had happened, after everything was said and done, he truly didn’t know who to blame. He was a soldier, all he knew was how to fight, and how to kill. He wasn’t meant to think of the why, only the how. The concept never filling his mind until now.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. All the general knew for certain was that he had to stay strong and help rebuild the hive, insuring that the queen's daughter, young Aurora, could eventually have the opportunity to lead over this broken race, and bring them up from their shattered state. But, he also knew that there was one other thing that he needed to do. He knew that the ponies would have taken prisoners, and hopefully his queen would be amongst them. Though he did not blame the ponies, he still hated them. Every time he heard a cry of pain in the hive mind, his hate grew more.  He owed it to all the fallen to do his best to free them. After he had helped as much as he could with the aftermath, he knew where he was going to go.

For his family and queen, he would return to Canterlot.