Revival - Book 1 - The Magic Awakensby TheBeastoftheEndChaptersProlougeMap of Pre-Federation Equestria Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3ProlougeAnother time. Another world. One filled with splendor and hope and light. For a thousand years, the world of Equestria was a symbol of light and love, where anypony could be anything. Ruled over by the princesses of night and day, moon and sun, it was home to many different species who were born with equestrian roots: Earth pony, Pegasi, Unicorn, Buffalo, Yak, Diamond Dog, Dragon, Changeling, and Griffin, amongst others. It was also home to species that remained in the shadows, far from praying eyes: Dwarves, Umbrum, Aladors, Feys, Twars, and Syphs, among others. It was a world where all could live in happiness and peace forever, without worry. But it wasn't always peaceful. Monsters dredged from the deepest recesses of darkness came to tear apart Equestria and bring ponykind to extinction. However, there was hope for all to count on. This hope came in the form of six jewels said to behold great power: the Elements of Harmony. Only six were said to wield this great magic: Applejack, element of Honesty; Rarity, embodiment of Generosity; Pinkie Pie, incarnation of Laughter; Fluttershy, who represented Kindness; Rainbow Dash, avatar of Loyalty; and finally, Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and element of Magic. These friends were entrusted with the task of defeating terrible enemies of great power. Some included Discord, the spirit of Chaos itself who saw the error of his ways through Fluttershy, his best friend; Chrysalis, a changeling who's heart was filled with deceit; and Tirek, who lived on a steady appetite of rage and stolen magic. All were defeated by the Six, who in their quests also gained many resourceful and powerful allies. One of these was Starlight Glimmer, a Unicorn who twice fought the Six, and lost both times. She became their friend and ally, wielding powerful magic. It was said that she, Discord, a turncoat changeling Thorax, and former villian Trixie Lulamoon bravely fought the changelings and in the final struggle, defeated the queen Chrysalis, ending her reign and saving a spot for Thorax to take place as King and reform the changelings so they would know love and friendship. Things went smoothly afterwards, but such things can change. In the wake of the battle of the changeling hive, unicorns began to explore new types of magic and infuse them into machines. They began to create contraptions that could run on new forms of energy. Science and magics advanced to make Equestria better for the future. They created airships that were small enough to carry one pony or even fly fast while carrying many ponies. They made robots that ran off solar energy and could do house hold chores and other laborious tasks. They made crystals that could be used to transmit messages and images without the aid of magic. In other words, they had made the stuff of tomorrow. All was well for 30 years, and in the space of time, everything changed. During a genetic engineering test, it was said that a mysterious virus, called the A-Virus, caused stillborn unicorns in the womb to grow wings and gain powerful magic, causing a succession of alicorn foals that Equestria had never seen before. But the most tragic event in Equestrian history was when the two sisters, Luna and Celestia, vanished one day without a trace of ever having left. Nobody knew where they went, and the only thing that was counted as evidence that they ever lived there were their crowns and decorative bridles, lying on their beds. In the wake of this disappearance, ponies by the dozen panicked. Equestria was left without two of its key defenders, and stranger still, the sun and moon moved across the sky at their usual intervals, and seemingly without any form of control. Ponies didn't know what to think about it, and began to fear the worst. The nation would've fallen into paranoia and fear had not a certain government faction called the Federation came forth to restore order, led by the mysterious alicorn called Lord Ravenwing. He told the ponies what he knew about the past few events: he told them that sisters left because there was corruption within the ranks of high officials, and they were planning to undermine the monarchy the Equestria had so long been ruled under. Even the Six were in on it, and they were planning to install a government of anarchy and dictatorship. He said that he had been given a blessing by the vanished princesses, saying that before they left they passed onto him the right to rule. He stated before the awed crowds that he had begun by banishing the Mane 6 to the farthest, most distant corners of the land, as well as the corrupted princess Mi Amore Cadenza, prince Shining Armor and the young Flurry Heart. He promised that he would take the responsibility in place of the princesses, and stop the dissenters from making war with them. For a few years, all was well, and many lived peacefully under his rule. But soon it was discovered when many cities fell to Federation legions (particularly their own) that they realized that the Federation had lied, and mighty Lord Ravenwing was a cruel and abusive dictator. He laid heavy taxes on trades from other races, leading them to poverty. He enslaved the Umbrum, Crystal Ponies, reformed Changelings and Diamond Dogs as work forces. He allied with the former queen Chrysalis and made her general of his military. Worst of all, he outlawed magic, saying that magic only belonged to the Federation and anyone who disagreed or used it would be met with a terrible fate. Using the technology that was originally used to help ponies, he cut down entire towns and cities and killed millions. No one dared to question his rule, despite the tyranny of the Federation's reign. So now Equestria has degraded into a former shadow of itself. Ponyville now lies abandoned, Canterlot is in ruins, and the Elements of Harmony are needed more than ever before. Even the People of Dreams, who were once led by Nightmare Moon and Nightmare Rarity have been exterminated. Only the races who have lived in secret for years were safe, for they've hidden themselves so well. Only a few cities, like Las Pegasus and Phillydalphia, are out of reach from the Federation's rule, and a single rebellion led by those who have hope fight the tyranny that has infected the land. The only hope of the people is a prophecy, laid down by the late shaman and zebra prophetess Zecora. It was said that as she was about to be killed by Lord Ravenwing himself, she stated that eight individuals, all different but sharing the same purpose, will one day "revive" from the ashes and will save the world. Two of those listed would be "the last alicorn" and "the daughter of the black king." After she made that intriguing omen, Ravenwing killed her in a fit of anger and left her to the crows to feed upon. And so the years passed. Then one day, 30 years after the disappearance of the sisters, something incredible happened... Author's Note Other species will be seen in later chapters. Map of Pre-Federation Equestria Map of Pre-Federation Equestria Note: The following map depicts Equestria before the arrival of Lord Ravenwing and the Federation. Most of the landmarks and locations in this chronicle are barely recognized by their true names or aren't known because (a) they were looted and ruined by the Federation, or (b) are places kept secret by others. In others words, don't take the map entirely to heart. Valtus Ceel, Prince of the Syph Ponies and high sovereign of the 15 mages Map: Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Fate is a rather surprising creature, in many cases. It is a fickle thing, with you one second and against you the next, changing sides with the terrain of the clock work, and never makes alliances. There are those who say that the greatest of events start as small happenings. Even the most innocent of events, from a pin drop to a flower crushed under the heel can start the greatest of wars and the bloodiest conflicts. For the case of Starlight Glimmer, she wasn't sure if finally finding Shadow Walker was fate or coincidence, though she had no doubt that her former mentor would have a few things to say to that. I don't believe in fate, Starlight, Twilight would probably say. I believe things like fortune telling and preordained futures are bogus, but I do know that time works in mysterious ways, and if we try to twist it around or move it ourselves, the closer we come to crushing ourselves under the great wheel. So let everything happen as it will be, make the right choices, and you will find yourself in a place you never expect. She had never felt so critical of the thought. Oh, sure she let time run, and got into places she didn't expect, but not ones that she was entirely comfortable with. Would you say that it was coincidence that caused you to vanish, Twilight? You and all your friends? Coincidence that got our world plunged into war with a monomaniacal psychopath? Or was it fate? At least the unexpected came with a few benefits. Now instead of learning friendship lessons (which kinda bummed her out; she liked friends as much as the next), she was an ace airship pilot who also used her magic to perform tricks in the air, and she could also fix and build things, often coming back from the workshop with more than one grease stain on her pink coat, and her purple and blue hair mussed from work. Then it was shower and brush, and it all started over again. Now, sitting in the hut of a small shantytown in one one of Equestria's most inhospitable wastelands, Starlight thought about how her travels have made a great deal of importance to the Rebellion. They were counting on her to bring back one small shard of proof that the nation's mighty heroes were still alive. Counting on us, she thought. She never traveled alone, and with her for this adventure was a small dragon with purple scales and tree-green spines. He wore a robe over his body for the sand that blew across the Badlands, for it tended to irritate the gaps between his scales. If anyone looked at him, they would probably say he was ten years old, but he was actually 15 in dragon years, and was arrested that way. He was the Peter Pony of all dragons. But for now, he was irritable with having to wait for their audience with the one who could have a valuable piece of information. "Oh, how long do we have to wait till were allowed in, I'm freezing out here." He pulled his cloak and hood over himself to keep out the Badland's cold breezes. She patted him on the head with a smile, then checked to look down at her weapons. They were two old revolvers, made when Equestria was in the beginnings of the technology boom, and a gift to her from her former mentor, evidenced by the cutie mark of the former Princess of Friendship etched into the oak wood grip. They weren't as good as laze guns or shock bows, but they could still tear through trooper armor as easily as shooting paper. It was also a kind of memento to the kind of life she used to have. For now, they were sitting in the black leather holsters, under her brown cloak, well oiled and safely tucked away from sight. She pulled the cloak over them, reassured. The cloth over the hut's entry lifted to reveal a a female zebra, covered in dark and light gray stripes, her mane in the Mohawk design that Starlight was familiar with. Zyleena gestured for them to follow, then retreated into the hut with a swish of her tail. Starlight looked down at Spike, as he pulled his robe over his shoulders. She felt for him; they had spent half their time in their lives to find those they loved the most, it was probably going to be a either a revaluation or a real shocker to know for a fact that Twilight - and all the other Five - was alive. She decided that he would have to be strong for what was coming. With that final thought, she and the young dragon both entered the hut. Zyleena was perhaps one of the few friends (aside from Spike) that Starlight had left in this war-torn world, a world where you lost friends, or they lost you. At first glance, the zebra of 20 didn't seem like the kind of creature who would want to join in the Rebellion, or the war. She was lithe and slender-built, with leaf green eyes and a sweet temper that reminded Starlight of Fluttershy. But unlike Fluttershy, Zyleena was made of tough stuff, and the zebra would defend her friends to the last breath if need be. She was also a terribly wise creature, and knew many things from using a gun to healing wounds, like the late Zecora. The only flaw in her being was that she had difficulty speaking Basic Equestrian, and only spoke in her native language. Currently, it was in this language that she was speaking to an colt who appeared to have seen better days. His iron gray coat, perhaps lustrous in his youth, was now dull with age. His hooves were chipped and cracked in many places, a few of his teeth were missing, and black mane was beginning to recede a little atop his head. The only thing that contrasted were his eyes, which still burned with a kind of youth, and his voice, as he spoke in zebra language, was strong even in the frailness of the elderly. He looked up to see Starlight and Spike enter the hut, which was practically bare except for a table, fireplace, and bedroll. He got up, spoke a few zebra words to Zyleena, and the young zebra waited outside. It seemed like this was going to be a hard reunion with hope. The two ponies - one old, one young - and a single dragon looked at each other for a long time, still as statues, never moving, their faces unreadable. It was Shadow Walker who broke the silence. "It's been a long time, Starlight Glimmer. It's a pleasure to see you again." She shrugged. "Well," she said, "it's been five years since you left the rebellion, so I'd say it's been long." He smiled, then said, "I suppose I'm right in assuming that you came for the location of my former friend?" Starlight nodded. That was good enough for him. "Thought so. But before we talk turkey, why don't you have some potato leek soup? You two look positively famished." On any occasion, the Badlands, when nobody just saw it as a dust bowl with no water, food, or any place to grow crops, some would've considered the Badlands to be a very beautiful place at night. The stars shone in the clear, ink blue sky over large geological formations made from sandstone, nature the artist and sculptor of such fine beauty that no artist could ever hope to recreate. It was truly a natural gem that everyone had to put on their bucket list. It was also peaceful too. Anyone who traveled into the forsaken place (if they had enough common sense to pack food and water for a good few days) were often recommended to sleep without a tent under the stars, listening to the sounds of the desert and focus on nothing else. This peace, however, was due in part to it's geography. It was a dry, sandy place with no hope finding water or food for miles. No one would dare venture dare without any form of sustenance to last for days. That did not, however, mean that the people of the village were helpless. They were survivors who learned how to take the saguaro and barrel cactus, and the juniper tree (the only three plants that existed in the barren wastes, if you knew where to look) and cultivated them for food and water. The land, in a sense, was their beneficiary, for it provided protection from inexperienced soldiers of the Federation, and any dangerous creature who wandered into the Badlands by mistake. But that didn't mean they couldn't be crossed. All you needed was bigger tools. Three miles from the little village, traveling at a near breakneck pace, was a large transport, boxlike in a sense, though the front was slanting upward to allow for an entrance with a ramp. There were no wheels on the bottom to propel the movements of the craft; it hovered three feet from the ground and was pushed only by three rocket thrusters attached to the back. Despite the simplicity of the design, the sight was enough to strike fear in the weakest of hearts, for it was symbol of terror and foreboding. It was even more foreboding inside the troop carrier. There were at least twoscore number of troops, each decked out in armor of shiny ebony black, each face hidden behind their safety helmet. Each and every one them had a horn protruding from a hole in the forehead, and a pair of powerful wings attached to their backs, all of them born during the time of the virus and taken from families they would never know, trained to kill without mercy and with extreme prejudice. There was one amongst them who was vastly different from the others, and she stood in the very front of the pack. The armor she wore was made of a silvery metal, and her face was too guarded by a helmet, the only difference between her and the soldiers (aside from the armor) was that she was taller than any of them, and her horn was a twisted black protrusion that had seen much better days. But she was strong and fit, strong to lead even whole armies toward battle, and still come out on top as the victor. And that's what they were going to do. They were going to go in, get what they wanted, and come out clean and smiling. Because this what was they were trained to do. This was their purpose. They were bringing order to a nation that had fallen into a state of chaos more errant than that of Discord. And that was just what they were going to do now. "I figured that you would find me sooner or later," Shadow Walker stated. He handed the two each a bowl of soup, which was more of a stew than a soup, thickly ground with potato chunks floating around. Starlight took her spoon with her magic, the thing the Federation despised above all else, and sampled the food, and it was so delicious that she kept spooning it down without stop. Spike was less mannerly, and slurped down the soup with ravenous hunger. She smiled at Spike's eating habits, then turned back to Shadow Walker, seriousness creasing her face. "Do you have it?" Putting down his soup bowl, Shadow Walker crossed to the other side of the hut, pulling out an old bag made of weather-worn leather. He reached in, jingling around before he found what he was looking for: a monoclinic shaped crystal of 4 inches long, and 2 inches wide that was hued with every color of the rainbow. On the front was a symbol of a large, nine-pointed star, surrounded by five smaller versions. Around that were smaller symbols: A cloud with striped lightning, three butterflies, three diamonds, three balloons, and three apples. The cutie marks of the Six. She stared at it a long time, taking in what she was seeing, and now thinking how gratifying it was to see their cutie marks on an object as insignificant as this. Years ago, in some far era of the past, she would've malignantly taken their cutie marks and replaced them with equal signs, a past she wasn't really wishing to revisit again, even by temptation. Now she was glad to see something that she once fought against appear once more, held in her hoof like a holy object. "She gave it to me for safekeeping," he said. "She said to pass it on to a pony who knew her the most. I guess you'll have to do." She turned back to Shadow Walker, pocketing the crystal. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything else that Twilight or her friends said, maybe a note?" The old hermit was about to reply, when Zyleena ran into the hut, so quickly that Spike looked up, startled, from his feast. The Zebra was speaking so fast, Starlight thought she would have a seizure. Shadow Walker's eyes widened as he listened, then suddenly, he lept up and rushed out the door. Starlight and Spike looked at each other, then followed suit, soup forgotten. They rushed out the door to chaos, with ponies and other species running around grabbing weapons and positioning themselves in the path of a large hovership. It was a menacing object, coated black and silver, and large enough to fit 6 the Princesses royal chambers, and the Tree of Harmony. Painted on the sides was an insignia of a raven with two crossed arrows in it's beak. It seemed like the Federation decided to pay a visit. She turned back to Shadow Walker, pulling out her guns. "You should hide." "And you should leave," he replied. "Don't let them get the crystal." She acknowledged this with a nod. "Spike, we need to go now!" she called as she began loading the guns. Spike followed close behind. "No telling twice!" The battle was relatively long, safe to say, and at first glance, one would've badly judged the situation. The Federation troops were well trained in military, even for riot squads, who could disband the rabble with their rectangular shields and lectro staves, but their armor was the most unique in terms of technological advancement. The armor was specifically designed to allow troopers (some called them "bucket heads") to do what their anatomy restricted. They could walk for longer periods on two legs, and the greeves had small robotic fingers, psychically attached to them, which allowed them to grip blasters without the need of them falling of their hooves. So they were a force to be reckoned with. However, they met their match when it came to the villagers, who had a wide range of weapons, and most of them were unicorns, so they had a little magic on their side, and they were pretty coordinated in terms of attack and defense. Laser bolts and a few bullets from Starlight's gun hit the enemy hard, but the were still coming out of the carrier in waves, never stopping, and soon, many of the villagers were either brought down, or kept fighting. Starlight kept her shooting to a minimum, for her bullet supply was low, and looking back, she realized she should've asked for a fresh supply before she left, but she knew that it was her mistake for not requesting another few boxes. Going to have to make do for now, she thought as she turned around to look back. Immediately she was glad she did. Behind her were two big troopers, both who were apparently interested in her, given how they were following just her and no one else. She quickly turned to Spike. "Get to the Star." Starlight said urgently. Spike turned back to her, slightly bewildered. "But what about you?" "Just start her up," she snapped. "And I'll catch up." She turned back and raised her six-shooters, and - without thought or regret - fired. There was a violent flash of noise and light, the smell of fire powder, and a soft plop. She knew that she must've struck home, but she didn't bother to look at her kill. She turned and ran like there was no tomorrow. Spike didn't know why he got himself roped into these things. He wasn't a fighter, nor was he trained in any form of combat. The only things he carried were his fire, and his small shock wand, which could incapacitate a full grown dragon. But still, he often kept questioning the Rebellion's descision about why they would send a near defenseless dragon into the field when he would probably be of no use at all. That didn't mean he was entirely without use. He knew how to fire a gun and how to track things. He knew how to read maps. He even knew how to repair an airship, as well as fly the the hunk of junk known as the Star, after Twilight's cutie mark. All of these skills were a tip of the hat to Starlight Glimmer, who was known for her repair and flight skills. Now, fleeing from the battle into the cockpit of the patched together contraption, he was silently praying that it would start for once in its life. Being patched together from other airships, the Star was still a looker on the outside, with its sleek proportions and paint job, but it was a nightmare on the inside, all of it's parts borrowing the histories of failings of the previous airships that sacrificed their lives to make the Star. It leaked quiberium fuel from time to time, the spark plug fell out four times, and it blew a gasket at least twice. Please run for one flawless minute, you piece of junk, Spike prayed as he climbed in. Just for once in your miserable life. He flipped the start switch, initiated the quiberium, and waited. There was a steady hum of power and a slight vibration coming from the long fuselage of the ship. Spike's heart skipped a beat. It works! he thought joyfully. It works! It works! It wor- Suddenly, the whole ship rocked with an impact that nearly sent him into the pilot wheel. The warning screen flashed red and beeped. Spike face palmed dramatically, now frustrated. He could only think one thing. Oh, pony feathers. Starlight was within sight of the Star, when she saw its backside smoking and Spike running out of the cockpit. "What happened?" Spike shook his head. "Engine's shot beyond repair," he said with heavy sarcasm. "And what do you know, we're in the middle of freaking nowhere to find any parts." Starlight looked at him, trying to comprehend what he said. "So you mean...?" Spike nodded. "Yup, we're stranded here, with no way out." That meant that if they stayed here, they would die, and the only way to save the world would soon be in the hands of the enemy. Which meant it was time to go to plan B. She pulled out the crystal, and put it in Spike's hand. "Spike, I need you to take this and run, run as fast you can and get away from here. Go to Las Pegasus, get to the Rebellion, anything! But don't look back or let anyone take this." He looked at her like she was crazy. "But what will you do?" She unholstered her guns, and loaded them with her magic. "I'll hold the fort, and go down fighting. The captain goes down with her ship." She turned back to him, seeing that his bewildered expression didn't change, and reassured him with a pat on the back. "I'll catch up with you," she said, turning away. "Now go, quickly! And let the magic guide you!" She turned back only once, to see Spike running in the direction of north-west, before turning to face the fray. Spike ran, not caring that he had no idea where he was going,or what to do, or that his cloak had fallen off. All he cared about was getting away, about running. The only thing he wore now was his old belt, the crystal still in a small pouch, safe from intruders. He kept running, unaware of the adventure that was about to begin. Author's Note This is (somewhat) inspired off the following video: Phew! Glad that's done. Chapter 2She couldn't see. She couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear above the soft breeze of her surroundings. All thought was lost in the sea of darkness that surrounded her. She also felt hungry, starving actually. But fear gave way to hunger, and curiosity as well. Where in the name of pony feathers was she? She opened up her eyes, almost tentatively, and when she opened them fully, she had no idea where she was. She was apparently lying in a bed, and there was a canopy above it, but that was all she could see so far. She rubbed her eyes, apparently still groggy from a long nap, and attempted to sit up. This was harder than ever to do, because she felt as though her presence was practically glued to the bed, and her limbs felt like lead. But she persevered, and could now get a full view of her surroundings. Her first impression: The whole room was made of wood. Her second impression: She had no idea where she was. The room was mostly bare and empty, save for a vanity mirror that sat from across her bed. The pony that stared back at her was young, no more than a filly that had a coat colored yellow, with a red mane and a reddish-pink bow that was tied to her hair, most likely for decoration. Apple Bloom. My name is Apple Bloom. She paused, wondering. How could she not know her own name before? How did it escape her, when she should've know before if it was common knowledge? Then it horrifyingly dawned on her. She didn't know anything at all. Family, friends, lifestyle: all of it was missing in the warehouse of her mind. And Apple Bloom didn't know where to start looking. She would've continued to wallow in this state of confusion and fear, had not a certain sound that sounded like animals growling came belting out of nowhere, along with a strange sensation of vibrating in her upper midsection, right below the chest. With a sheepish grin, Apple Bloom knew that she didn't have to be a brain scientist to know that she was starving. She lifted herself off the bed, intending to land on her feet, but her legs didn't respond and they collapsed like jelly beneath her. Her face collided with the wood floor, causing her vision to swim a little. Clearly she hadn't used her legs in a long time if she was this unstable. "Help," she managed to croak. "Help me." There was silence. No reply, not even the smallest squeak of wood. All right Apple Bloom, she scolded herself. You need to get a grip on yourself. Nobody's gonna come, and apparently you have no family to take care of you until you manage to find them. Right now you need to carry yourself. Safe to say, the trip to the kitchen downstairs (how did she know it was downstairs?) was painful. She tripped twice on her chin, and she fell down the stairs as she reached the fourth step, landing with a thump on the floor and nearly busting her jaw again. She then had to drag herself into the kitchen - which was empty save for the counters, bellows powered stove, and fridge - by her front legs and pry the fridge open, which was no easy task. Inside she found a bowl of spaghetti, some grape jam, and a few biscuits. She tried to pull them out of the fridge, but ended up with the food spilling onto the floor, the spaghetti bearing the resemblance to spilled guts mixed with purple bruise. In her condition, however, Apple Bloom wasn't picky, and she scooped up the mess like a cannibal with fresh kill in front. She horked it down with great slurps and moshing, all table manners and etiquette forgotten, until there was nothing but a stain of red and purple, with a few missed strands of spaghetti. With a burp of satisfaction, she lay down upon the floor on her back with full contentment. In her dream, there was only whiteness. White, like her, but more of a purity than her alabaster color, which contrasted with the whiteness to make her visible. The only thing that blemished it was her rose and purple mane and tail, which was another thing that kept from blending in and being lost in the white. It was also quiet, she noticed. Sound seemed non-existent in this quiet nexus between wakefulness and unconsciousness, and there was simply nothing and yet everything, where nothing is made in this world but it is open to any possibility. Just a blank sheet of paper for a plane of existence. Where am I? she asked in her mind. Then, out of hope, desperation, and a whim she added, Luna, are you here? If so, can you tell me what's going on? [There is no Luna here, young'un. There is only Now.] The words startled her. They were calm and soothing, but were disembodied in a way that made her shudder. She wheeled around, sure that she heard something behind her. No one was there. Who are you? Show yourself! she barked, hoping to channel an inner Rainbow Dash, though right now her knees were knocking hard against each other. [Then turn around, and see me for who I am.] Normally, she would've trusted her better judgements than then take the word of strange disembodied voices, but against her common sense and before she could stop herself, she wheeled around in the opposite direction. Her eyes were met with the sight of a... Desk? She blinked, rubbed her eyes a little, but it was still there. And it was a desk, made of solid oak and looked like the kind you could store things while writing on them as well. The handles were made of a black metal that she couldn't place, and in front of it was a large chair. With a slight smirk on her face, she was reminded of that chair that Diamond Tiara used to sit in when she was (briefly) the editor in chief of the Foal Free Press. She must've been real comfy in that chair back in those days, because this one looked good enough to sleep-sit in. Only now, there was no stuffy, prissy editor in chief, and Diamond Tiara had come a long way since then. But there was someone sitting there, she could already tell from the fact there was a head poking from over the top. But it wasn't a pony's head, for it was rosy-pale in color, and the only hair she could see was a short brown crop on the crown and down the back. The ears were rounded and didn't sit atop his head (she was sure it was a he), and as she walked over to examine a side view of him, she noticed that his muzzle had shrunken to a single blunt point in the middle of his face.She also noticed he had longer back legs and arms with pinkish, fleshy, sausage-like things on the end. She couldn't see above the desk, small as she was, but seeing that a pencil was moving vigorously with those strange talons of his, he was clearly writing something. He continued this ritual for a few more minutes, then looked up, a sign that told him he had a visitor, and turned to her. He wore a pair of glasses, and his eyes, unsmiling though not unkind, looked down into her green ones. She was surprised by their startling blue color, and by how they seemed smaller compared to hers. Who are you? she asked. He did not answer at once. But when he did, she found herself surprised by what she heard, for it was not in words, but in her head. [I have many names. Sometimes I'm Dale Fallow, sometimes I'm Darrell Chad, othertimes many call me Dave Cratchit. Some call me the Writer, the Illustrator, the Man of no Place.] With that, his eyes changed to the milky white of a blind person. [But if you want my real name, then I shall give it. My name is Zachary Nicholas Walden.] Out of all things she could've been, there was one thing that Scootaloo wasn't: a thief. For her part, the proper word was "scavenger." Ever since everything went down, the orange pegasus filly had believed that taking from the properties of former Ponyville citizens was close to the sin of stealing. Sweetie had to remind her 3 times in the past few months that if no one lived in Ponyville and they left behind things, then it was theirs by right, since nobody was going to use it. Still, it kind of felt wrong to take something that wasn't theirs, and think that it was for a worthy cause didn't make her feel any better. She didn't want to take, she wanted to fly through town on her scooter, using ramps to soar across the sky, listening to the long sought out compliments of her idol as she blotted the view of the sun. But that was just talk, the talk of a dreamer. Rainbow Dash was either missing or vanished, the bad guys patrolled the streets every night for potential runaways, not to mention the occasional flight across the sky during the day. Their rules were rules, no matter how much they sucked. You had to avoid the inspections, plunder what you could, or you did not survive. Today her supply mission was to the one place that brought bad memories. The red farm was in sight, with its hanging Apple sign, and Scootaloo had to admit, despite the fact that the plants from the Everfree were now mounting an invasion on Ponyville, it seemed that Sweet Apple Acres was well preserved in some way. It could've been a curse for all she knew. She checked her watch - a relic from the old days before holograms were invented - and found it was almost 12:00. Some more time before patrols, the filly thought to herself. I'll be done by then. This all I need to do for today. She climbed one of the hills that gave her a view of the house and it's surrounding yards, and parked under a particularly dense tree, grabbing the three burlap sacks that sat in the Radio Flyer, a small metal wagon she had managed to procure from her old house and made a device to attach the wagon to the scooter. Now all there was to do was collect the apples and get home. She prepared to walk to the nearest tree when she looked back at the farmhouse, then at the small horn attached to the handle bars, and smiled a sad, nostalgic smile. She remembered how Apple Bloom would run out the door and laugh every time Scootaloo honked the small horn, and there would be more crusading to do when that happened. So, with no small fanfare and little announcement, Scootaloo honked that horn. Two small toot-toots in the direction of the former Apple family residence. Not that anyone would come out, she thought as she looked back. I'd be lucky a lucky filly if I could see... Her smile vanished abruptly. She blinked once, twice, then rubbed her eyes with her hooves. She could be dreaming or crazy or maybe even both, but she could've sworn she saw a figure exiting the door to the kitchen. A federation spy, perhaps? A scavenger looking for spare parts? A thief who liked to take what was theirs and sell it? Better go and investigate, she thought. The apples could wait, and besides, Sweetie Belle's burn apple pie was something she could live without for now. Her cooking might've gotten better over the past few years, but she was still working through the deserts stage. Scootaloo thought that if Sweetie Belle made another apple turnover, she would have stomach pains for days. Not to mention she was still protective of the house and it's possessions. It was a place that was a reminder of the happier times, and times that could come again, so her feelings were sentimental. She rode down the hill going into "auto mode" and let gravity take her to the dirt road that led to Sweet Apple Acres. Once she hit the dusty track she put on the speed and flapped her small wings in quick, hummingbird flaps. The scooter was in no time rocketing down the road. Apple Bloom would've lain in full ecstasy had she not heard the honking toots of a child's toy. She managed to lift herself slowly - half with renewed strength, half with lazy reluctance - and managed to trot out the back door, which took effort because it was difficult to turn to knob to the lower part of the door due to the fact that not all her strength was there. When she did manage to get out, she immediately pulled a hoof over her eyes to ward away the blinding light of the sun. In the house, the shutters had been drawn and closed and the windows seemed to be boarded, for only the faintest traces of light had only been able to get through the cracks. Now, seeing it here in full blast, Apple Bloom realized that she had never seen the sun during her sleep, whenever that started. When the sun did give her eyes a chance to adjust to the bright radiance of the solar body, she saw only one thing: fields. Gigantic green fields filled with trees speckled with fat, red, heart-shaped fruits (Apples...) that seemed ripe for picking and tasting their juicy flesh. She turned to her left and saw more field with more apple trees, and the same to her left, only it appeared that there were three small structure with slanted roofs and behind those, there was a compound behind it with a half-circle ring of fence that she recognized as a pigpen. To where she was, she looked behind her only to see a large structure made of red painted wood towering above her. By the look of the steeple on top, with the Apple weather vane on top pointing west, Apple Bloom guessed that it was a barn converted into a home fit for ponies. Not that she couldn't be one of the ponies that lived here; she could barely remember where she came from. Then why does this place seem familiar? She decided not to stress the point. It would be best if she didn't think about it now, and find a place to stay, someplace that wasn't a barn. She could see a village in the distance, one that seemed to be a place where there could be a pony that could help her. The only solution was to start walking. "APPLE BLOOM!" She turned at the sound, but only managed to see an orange blur hurtle into her before she was knocked over with the breath driven out of her as she was thrown to the ground. The force of the impact rocked her, causing her to black out for a moment before she regained consciousness, although she found that there was a humongous weight on her chest that had crushed out her breath. It was only after her vision stopped swimming that she realized the weight was a someone, and someone she didn't recognize. She was a small orange filly, with small wings attached to her back (A Pegasus she's a Pegasus) with her mane in a shock of unkempt purple hair, with eyes to match the color. Apple Bloom couldn't recognize her, but the filly could certainly recognize Apple Bloom, cause she began to lift the yellow filly into the air and squeeze her in a life-killing hug, all the while gleefully trying to hold a conversation with the already speech-dead Apple Bloom. "Where have you been all this time?" the orange filly cried, squeezing the other harder. "When I didn't see you in the evacuation I thought you were dead or something, then I see you for the first time walking around Sweet Apple Acres like you never left, and just don't know how to say how excited I am that your here!" Apple Bloom's face was turning blue with the crushing embrace of the orange filly. Luckily, she saw the consequences of her hugs and let go, letting Apple Bloom fall to the ground with a whump. The orange filly sheepishly scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Sorry, I went a little Pinkie Pie there for a second. Just don't tell Rainbow Dash I went sappy with you." Apple Bloom sucked in a load of air before asking, "Who are ya?" The other pony recoiled a little, taken aback. "What do you mean, 'who am I?'" She puffed out her chest with pride. "I'm Scootaloo, one of the most well known scooter champion and Cutie Mark Crusader, and your saying that you don't know who I am?" Apple Bloom managed to pick herself up and look at the orange filly who called herself Scootaloo, and shook her head, feeling frightened by how the pony knew her more than she did. Seeing the look that Apple Bloom that must've been bewilderment, she asked, with growing horror and concern, "Apple Bloom, you're not kidding, I hope? Please tell me you aren't kidding." "Ah'm sorry, but..." she said. "Ah don't know where Ah am, or who Ah am, or why Ah'm here. It's just so hazy." She then looked at Scootaloo, hopefully. "Maybe you could tell me?" Scootaloo looked like she was going to answer, but suddenly there was a beeping sound that made Apple Bloom jump a little. Scootaloo lifted her hoof, where what appeared to be a small metal band was beeping loudly and annoyingly (A watch) before Scootaloo clicked it of. Then she ran to a nearby bush and pulled out a scooter with a wagon attached to it. "I can't tell you here," Scootaloo said, strapping on a helmet, her face unusually grim as she peered up in the sky. She seemed a little agitated now, and for a minute Apple Bloom though she was checking for rain."But we should get going, and fast. They'll be here soon, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my fillyhood as delinquent in prison." "Who?" Scootaloo didn't answer but motioned for her to get on, just as a sort of whum-whum sound reverberated through the air. It seemed to be coming from the east, a kind of thrumming, reverberating noise in the distance that was slowly growing in beat and noise. It felt like it was vibrating Apple Bloom's chest, threatening to shake her organs to liquid and her make her early appetizer of pasta and jam come hurling out. She also had the feeling that the thing that was coming wasn't friendly. So she hopped onto the scooter without another word. The ride through the village (Scootaloo called it "Ponyville") was no short of disappointing. In truth, she was hoping to see a town filled to the brim with ponies like her, trotting through the streets and alleys on their way to their work, to stalls selling fresh fruits, or to talk amongst friends in taverns, restaurants, and bakeries. She hoped to talk to a few, ask her if they knew her, see if they could help her, and maybe get headway in finding out who she was. What she saw were streets overgrown with crabgrass, dandelions, and various weeds: jimsonweed, plantain, and ground-ivy. There were covered in kudzu so thick that they looked more like veins than vines. The only beauty to this pitted and diseased town were a few beautiful flowers here and there. But what caught Apple Bloom's eye most of all was the fact that there were no ponies in town, at least not any that were alive. The whumming sound of the unseen vehicle in the sky was still hung, but it was distant now, having apparently not noticed them - to the surprise of Scootaloo - though when she tried to get a good look at it, Apple Bloom only saw a rectangular silhouette in the sky blocking out the sun before it zoomed away in an easterly direction. Apple Bloom decided not pursue any questions. "And here we are!" Scootaloo's voice snapped Apple Bloom out of her reverie. They were looking at a towering structure that was two stories high, sporting a largely cylindrical building shape with decorative pillars and galloping pony sculptures lining the lower and upper exterior, resembling a highly decorated carousel. The spire was topped by a small, triangular red flag that waved in the wind. It was clear that the place had seen better times, for the windows were boarded up, leaving nothing to be seen in the windows. Scootaloo hopped off, lifting Apple Bloom off the wagon (with difficulty), and hid the scooter and it's trailer behind a bush. "Why are we here?" Apple Bloom asked. Scootaloo slipped off her helmet, tossing it into the bush. "This is home base. Hopefully Sweetie Belle will be excited to see you, seeing that your still alive and all that. Though let me warn you..." She leaned in to whisper in Apple Bloom's ear, "Don't try her apple pie." Apple Bloom cocked her head. "Why?" Scootaloo waved it away. "Just...don't. You'll have a stomachache afterwards for days." She turned and knocked on the door, shouting, "Hey, Sweetie Belle, open up! I got a surprise for you! Open up and let me in!" There was no reply for a minute, and Apple Bloom was deciding to steal the scooter and blitz off, when a groggy voice answered from behind the door, "Did you bring the apples?" Scootaloo suddenly seemed to realize that she had apparently forgotten something, then blushed sheepishly. "I...might've forgotten them," she said guiltily. The voice on the other side of the door grumbled, then said grumpily, "Then unless the Feds have decided to take up farm life, or if some earth-shattering event has just occurred, then I'm not interested." Scootaloo sighed in annoyance. "Sweetie Belle, just open up." There was nothing for a few minutes, then to Apple Bloom's surprise, the door knob was surrounded by a green aura, (magic) turned in it's socket, and the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a filly about Scootaloo's height and age, with marble-white skin, rose-and-violet hair, and green eyes. She irate and tired, proven by the bags under her eyes and the mussy hair, as well as her belligerent attitude as she blinked away the sun. "Well, what is it? What is so important that it needs-" Her eyes widened and bulged, her mouth went slack, and her ranting died in her throat. She was staring at Apple Bloom, who felt uncomfortable and wormy in her intense green gaze. The filly - apparently called Sweetie Belle - approached Apple Bloom, mouth in a wide "O" of shock, and touched the yellow filly's chest, as if testing to see if she was there. "Uh," Apple Bloom said, shifting uncomfortably. "Hello?" Sweetie Belle stared, stared, stared some more...then fainted dead away. Author's Note The "italics in parentheses" bit is borrowed from Stephan King. Love you man, and that's from the heart. The rest of Sweetie Belle's dream will be revealed later. Chapter 3Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
ProlougeAnother time. Another world. One filled with splendor and hope and light. For a thousand years, the world of Equestria was a symbol of light and love, where anypony could be anything. Ruled over by the princesses of night and day, moon and sun, it was home to many different species who were born with equestrian roots: Earth pony, Pegasi, Unicorn, Buffalo, Yak, Diamond Dog, Dragon, Changeling, and Griffin, amongst others. It was also home to species that remained in the shadows, far from praying eyes: Dwarves, Umbrum, Aladors, Feys, Twars, and Syphs, among others. It was a world where all could live in happiness and peace forever, without worry. But it wasn't always peaceful. Monsters dredged from the deepest recesses of darkness came to tear apart Equestria and bring ponykind to extinction. However, there was hope for all to count on. This hope came in the form of six jewels said to behold great power: the Elements of Harmony. Only six were said to wield this great magic: Applejack, element of Honesty; Rarity, embodiment of Generosity; Pinkie Pie, incarnation of Laughter; Fluttershy, who represented Kindness; Rainbow Dash, avatar of Loyalty; and finally, Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and element of Magic. These friends were entrusted with the task of defeating terrible enemies of great power. Some included Discord, the spirit of Chaos itself who saw the error of his ways through Fluttershy, his best friend; Chrysalis, a changeling who's heart was filled with deceit; and Tirek, who lived on a steady appetite of rage and stolen magic. All were defeated by the Six, who in their quests also gained many resourceful and powerful allies. One of these was Starlight Glimmer, a Unicorn who twice fought the Six, and lost both times. She became their friend and ally, wielding powerful magic. It was said that she, Discord, a turncoat changeling Thorax, and former villian Trixie Lulamoon bravely fought the changelings and in the final struggle, defeated the queen Chrysalis, ending her reign and saving a spot for Thorax to take place as King and reform the changelings so they would know love and friendship. Things went smoothly afterwards, but such things can change. In the wake of the battle of the changeling hive, unicorns began to explore new types of magic and infuse them into machines. They began to create contraptions that could run on new forms of energy. Science and magics advanced to make Equestria better for the future. They created airships that were small enough to carry one pony or even fly fast while carrying many ponies. They made robots that ran off solar energy and could do house hold chores and other laborious tasks. They made crystals that could be used to transmit messages and images without the aid of magic. In other words, they had made the stuff of tomorrow. All was well for 30 years, and in the space of time, everything changed. During a genetic engineering test, it was said that a mysterious virus, called the A-Virus, caused stillborn unicorns in the womb to grow wings and gain powerful magic, causing a succession of alicorn foals that Equestria had never seen before. But the most tragic event in Equestrian history was when the two sisters, Luna and Celestia, vanished one day without a trace of ever having left. Nobody knew where they went, and the only thing that was counted as evidence that they ever lived there were their crowns and decorative bridles, lying on their beds. In the wake of this disappearance, ponies by the dozen panicked. Equestria was left without two of its key defenders, and stranger still, the sun and moon moved across the sky at their usual intervals, and seemingly without any form of control. Ponies didn't know what to think about it, and began to fear the worst. The nation would've fallen into paranoia and fear had not a certain government faction called the Federation came forth to restore order, led by the mysterious alicorn called Lord Ravenwing. He told the ponies what he knew about the past few events: he told them that sisters left because there was corruption within the ranks of high officials, and they were planning to undermine the monarchy the Equestria had so long been ruled under. Even the Six were in on it, and they were planning to install a government of anarchy and dictatorship. He said that he had been given a blessing by the vanished princesses, saying that before they left they passed onto him the right to rule. He stated before the awed crowds that he had begun by banishing the Mane 6 to the farthest, most distant corners of the land, as well as the corrupted princess Mi Amore Cadenza, prince Shining Armor and the young Flurry Heart. He promised that he would take the responsibility in place of the princesses, and stop the dissenters from making war with them. For a few years, all was well, and many lived peacefully under his rule. But soon it was discovered when many cities fell to Federation legions (particularly their own) that they realized that the Federation had lied, and mighty Lord Ravenwing was a cruel and abusive dictator. He laid heavy taxes on trades from other races, leading them to poverty. He enslaved the Umbrum, Crystal Ponies, reformed Changelings and Diamond Dogs as work forces. He allied with the former queen Chrysalis and made her general of his military. Worst of all, he outlawed magic, saying that magic only belonged to the Federation and anyone who disagreed or used it would be met with a terrible fate. Using the technology that was originally used to help ponies, he cut down entire towns and cities and killed millions. No one dared to question his rule, despite the tyranny of the Federation's reign. So now Equestria has degraded into a former shadow of itself. Ponyville now lies abandoned, Canterlot is in ruins, and the Elements of Harmony are needed more than ever before. Even the People of Dreams, who were once led by Nightmare Moon and Nightmare Rarity have been exterminated. Only the races who have lived in secret for years were safe, for they've hidden themselves so well. Only a few cities, like Las Pegasus and Phillydalphia, are out of reach from the Federation's rule, and a single rebellion led by those who have hope fight the tyranny that has infected the land. The only hope of the people is a prophecy, laid down by the late shaman and zebra prophetess Zecora. It was said that as she was about to be killed by Lord Ravenwing himself, she stated that eight individuals, all different but sharing the same purpose, will one day "revive" from the ashes and will save the world. Two of those listed would be "the last alicorn" and "the daughter of the black king." After she made that intriguing omen, Ravenwing killed her in a fit of anger and left her to the crows to feed upon. And so the years passed. Then one day, 30 years after the disappearance of the sisters, something incredible happened... Author's Note Other species will be seen in later chapters.
Map of Pre-Federation Equestria Map of Pre-Federation Equestria Note: The following map depicts Equestria before the arrival of Lord Ravenwing and the Federation. Most of the landmarks and locations in this chronicle are barely recognized by their true names or aren't known because (a) they were looted and ruined by the Federation, or (b) are places kept secret by others. In others words, don't take the map entirely to heart. Valtus Ceel, Prince of the Syph Ponies and high sovereign of the 15 mages Map:
Chapter 1 Chapter 1 Fate is a rather surprising creature, in many cases. It is a fickle thing, with you one second and against you the next, changing sides with the terrain of the clock work, and never makes alliances. There are those who say that the greatest of events start as small happenings. Even the most innocent of events, from a pin drop to a flower crushed under the heel can start the greatest of wars and the bloodiest conflicts. For the case of Starlight Glimmer, she wasn't sure if finally finding Shadow Walker was fate or coincidence, though she had no doubt that her former mentor would have a few things to say to that. I don't believe in fate, Starlight, Twilight would probably say. I believe things like fortune telling and preordained futures are bogus, but I do know that time works in mysterious ways, and if we try to twist it around or move it ourselves, the closer we come to crushing ourselves under the great wheel. So let everything happen as it will be, make the right choices, and you will find yourself in a place you never expect. She had never felt so critical of the thought. Oh, sure she let time run, and got into places she didn't expect, but not ones that she was entirely comfortable with. Would you say that it was coincidence that caused you to vanish, Twilight? You and all your friends? Coincidence that got our world plunged into war with a monomaniacal psychopath? Or was it fate? At least the unexpected came with a few benefits. Now instead of learning friendship lessons (which kinda bummed her out; she liked friends as much as the next), she was an ace airship pilot who also used her magic to perform tricks in the air, and she could also fix and build things, often coming back from the workshop with more than one grease stain on her pink coat, and her purple and blue hair mussed from work. Then it was shower and brush, and it all started over again. Now, sitting in the hut of a small shantytown in one one of Equestria's most inhospitable wastelands, Starlight thought about how her travels have made a great deal of importance to the Rebellion. They were counting on her to bring back one small shard of proof that the nation's mighty heroes were still alive. Counting on us, she thought. She never traveled alone, and with her for this adventure was a small dragon with purple scales and tree-green spines. He wore a robe over his body for the sand that blew across the Badlands, for it tended to irritate the gaps between his scales. If anyone looked at him, they would probably say he was ten years old, but he was actually 15 in dragon years, and was arrested that way. He was the Peter Pony of all dragons. But for now, he was irritable with having to wait for their audience with the one who could have a valuable piece of information. "Oh, how long do we have to wait till were allowed in, I'm freezing out here." He pulled his cloak and hood over himself to keep out the Badland's cold breezes. She patted him on the head with a smile, then checked to look down at her weapons. They were two old revolvers, made when Equestria was in the beginnings of the technology boom, and a gift to her from her former mentor, evidenced by the cutie mark of the former Princess of Friendship etched into the oak wood grip. They weren't as good as laze guns or shock bows, but they could still tear through trooper armor as easily as shooting paper. It was also a kind of memento to the kind of life she used to have. For now, they were sitting in the black leather holsters, under her brown cloak, well oiled and safely tucked away from sight. She pulled the cloak over them, reassured. The cloth over the hut's entry lifted to reveal a a female zebra, covered in dark and light gray stripes, her mane in the Mohawk design that Starlight was familiar with. Zyleena gestured for them to follow, then retreated into the hut with a swish of her tail. Starlight looked down at Spike, as he pulled his robe over his shoulders. She felt for him; they had spent half their time in their lives to find those they loved the most, it was probably going to be a either a revaluation or a real shocker to know for a fact that Twilight - and all the other Five - was alive. She decided that he would have to be strong for what was coming. With that final thought, she and the young dragon both entered the hut. Zyleena was perhaps one of the few friends (aside from Spike) that Starlight had left in this war-torn world, a world where you lost friends, or they lost you. At first glance, the zebra of 20 didn't seem like the kind of creature who would want to join in the Rebellion, or the war. She was lithe and slender-built, with leaf green eyes and a sweet temper that reminded Starlight of Fluttershy. But unlike Fluttershy, Zyleena was made of tough stuff, and the zebra would defend her friends to the last breath if need be. She was also a terribly wise creature, and knew many things from using a gun to healing wounds, like the late Zecora. The only flaw in her being was that she had difficulty speaking Basic Equestrian, and only spoke in her native language. Currently, it was in this language that she was speaking to an colt who appeared to have seen better days. His iron gray coat, perhaps lustrous in his youth, was now dull with age. His hooves were chipped and cracked in many places, a few of his teeth were missing, and black mane was beginning to recede a little atop his head. The only thing that contrasted were his eyes, which still burned with a kind of youth, and his voice, as he spoke in zebra language, was strong even in the frailness of the elderly. He looked up to see Starlight and Spike enter the hut, which was practically bare except for a table, fireplace, and bedroll. He got up, spoke a few zebra words to Zyleena, and the young zebra waited outside. It seemed like this was going to be a hard reunion with hope. The two ponies - one old, one young - and a single dragon looked at each other for a long time, still as statues, never moving, their faces unreadable. It was Shadow Walker who broke the silence. "It's been a long time, Starlight Glimmer. It's a pleasure to see you again." She shrugged. "Well," she said, "it's been five years since you left the rebellion, so I'd say it's been long." He smiled, then said, "I suppose I'm right in assuming that you came for the location of my former friend?" Starlight nodded. That was good enough for him. "Thought so. But before we talk turkey, why don't you have some potato leek soup? You two look positively famished." On any occasion, the Badlands, when nobody just saw it as a dust bowl with no water, food, or any place to grow crops, some would've considered the Badlands to be a very beautiful place at night. The stars shone in the clear, ink blue sky over large geological formations made from sandstone, nature the artist and sculptor of such fine beauty that no artist could ever hope to recreate. It was truly a natural gem that everyone had to put on their bucket list. It was also peaceful too. Anyone who traveled into the forsaken place (if they had enough common sense to pack food and water for a good few days) were often recommended to sleep without a tent under the stars, listening to the sounds of the desert and focus on nothing else. This peace, however, was due in part to it's geography. It was a dry, sandy place with no hope finding water or food for miles. No one would dare venture dare without any form of sustenance to last for days. That did not, however, mean that the people of the village were helpless. They were survivors who learned how to take the saguaro and barrel cactus, and the juniper tree (the only three plants that existed in the barren wastes, if you knew where to look) and cultivated them for food and water. The land, in a sense, was their beneficiary, for it provided protection from inexperienced soldiers of the Federation, and any dangerous creature who wandered into the Badlands by mistake. But that didn't mean they couldn't be crossed. All you needed was bigger tools. Three miles from the little village, traveling at a near breakneck pace, was a large transport, boxlike in a sense, though the front was slanting upward to allow for an entrance with a ramp. There were no wheels on the bottom to propel the movements of the craft; it hovered three feet from the ground and was pushed only by three rocket thrusters attached to the back. Despite the simplicity of the design, the sight was enough to strike fear in the weakest of hearts, for it was symbol of terror and foreboding. It was even more foreboding inside the troop carrier. There were at least twoscore number of troops, each decked out in armor of shiny ebony black, each face hidden behind their safety helmet. Each and every one them had a horn protruding from a hole in the forehead, and a pair of powerful wings attached to their backs, all of them born during the time of the virus and taken from families they would never know, trained to kill without mercy and with extreme prejudice. There was one amongst them who was vastly different from the others, and she stood in the very front of the pack. The armor she wore was made of a silvery metal, and her face was too guarded by a helmet, the only difference between her and the soldiers (aside from the armor) was that she was taller than any of them, and her horn was a twisted black protrusion that had seen much better days. But she was strong and fit, strong to lead even whole armies toward battle, and still come out on top as the victor. And that's what they were going to do. They were going to go in, get what they wanted, and come out clean and smiling. Because this what was they were trained to do. This was their purpose. They were bringing order to a nation that had fallen into a state of chaos more errant than that of Discord. And that was just what they were going to do now. "I figured that you would find me sooner or later," Shadow Walker stated. He handed the two each a bowl of soup, which was more of a stew than a soup, thickly ground with potato chunks floating around. Starlight took her spoon with her magic, the thing the Federation despised above all else, and sampled the food, and it was so delicious that she kept spooning it down without stop. Spike was less mannerly, and slurped down the soup with ravenous hunger. She smiled at Spike's eating habits, then turned back to Shadow Walker, seriousness creasing her face. "Do you have it?" Putting down his soup bowl, Shadow Walker crossed to the other side of the hut, pulling out an old bag made of weather-worn leather. He reached in, jingling around before he found what he was looking for: a monoclinic shaped crystal of 4 inches long, and 2 inches wide that was hued with every color of the rainbow. On the front was a symbol of a large, nine-pointed star, surrounded by five smaller versions. Around that were smaller symbols: A cloud with striped lightning, three butterflies, three diamonds, three balloons, and three apples. The cutie marks of the Six. She stared at it a long time, taking in what she was seeing, and now thinking how gratifying it was to see their cutie marks on an object as insignificant as this. Years ago, in some far era of the past, she would've malignantly taken their cutie marks and replaced them with equal signs, a past she wasn't really wishing to revisit again, even by temptation. Now she was glad to see something that she once fought against appear once more, held in her hoof like a holy object. "She gave it to me for safekeeping," he said. "She said to pass it on to a pony who knew her the most. I guess you'll have to do." She turned back to Shadow Walker, pocketing the crystal. "Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything else that Twilight or her friends said, maybe a note?" The old hermit was about to reply, when Zyleena ran into the hut, so quickly that Spike looked up, startled, from his feast. The Zebra was speaking so fast, Starlight thought she would have a seizure. Shadow Walker's eyes widened as he listened, then suddenly, he lept up and rushed out the door. Starlight and Spike looked at each other, then followed suit, soup forgotten. They rushed out the door to chaos, with ponies and other species running around grabbing weapons and positioning themselves in the path of a large hovership. It was a menacing object, coated black and silver, and large enough to fit 6 the Princesses royal chambers, and the Tree of Harmony. Painted on the sides was an insignia of a raven with two crossed arrows in it's beak. It seemed like the Federation decided to pay a visit. She turned back to Shadow Walker, pulling out her guns. "You should hide." "And you should leave," he replied. "Don't let them get the crystal." She acknowledged this with a nod. "Spike, we need to go now!" she called as she began loading the guns. Spike followed close behind. "No telling twice!" The battle was relatively long, safe to say, and at first glance, one would've badly judged the situation. The Federation troops were well trained in military, even for riot squads, who could disband the rabble with their rectangular shields and lectro staves, but their armor was the most unique in terms of technological advancement. The armor was specifically designed to allow troopers (some called them "bucket heads") to do what their anatomy restricted. They could walk for longer periods on two legs, and the greeves had small robotic fingers, psychically attached to them, which allowed them to grip blasters without the need of them falling of their hooves. So they were a force to be reckoned with. However, they met their match when it came to the villagers, who had a wide range of weapons, and most of them were unicorns, so they had a little magic on their side, and they were pretty coordinated in terms of attack and defense. Laser bolts and a few bullets from Starlight's gun hit the enemy hard, but the were still coming out of the carrier in waves, never stopping, and soon, many of the villagers were either brought down, or kept fighting. Starlight kept her shooting to a minimum, for her bullet supply was low, and looking back, she realized she should've asked for a fresh supply before she left, but she knew that it was her mistake for not requesting another few boxes. Going to have to make do for now, she thought as she turned around to look back. Immediately she was glad she did. Behind her were two big troopers, both who were apparently interested in her, given how they were following just her and no one else. She quickly turned to Spike. "Get to the Star." Starlight said urgently. Spike turned back to her, slightly bewildered. "But what about you?" "Just start her up," she snapped. "And I'll catch up." She turned back and raised her six-shooters, and - without thought or regret - fired. There was a violent flash of noise and light, the smell of fire powder, and a soft plop. She knew that she must've struck home, but she didn't bother to look at her kill. She turned and ran like there was no tomorrow. Spike didn't know why he got himself roped into these things. He wasn't a fighter, nor was he trained in any form of combat. The only things he carried were his fire, and his small shock wand, which could incapacitate a full grown dragon. But still, he often kept questioning the Rebellion's descision about why they would send a near defenseless dragon into the field when he would probably be of no use at all. That didn't mean he was entirely without use. He knew how to fire a gun and how to track things. He knew how to read maps. He even knew how to repair an airship, as well as fly the the hunk of junk known as the Star, after Twilight's cutie mark. All of these skills were a tip of the hat to Starlight Glimmer, who was known for her repair and flight skills. Now, fleeing from the battle into the cockpit of the patched together contraption, he was silently praying that it would start for once in its life. Being patched together from other airships, the Star was still a looker on the outside, with its sleek proportions and paint job, but it was a nightmare on the inside, all of it's parts borrowing the histories of failings of the previous airships that sacrificed their lives to make the Star. It leaked quiberium fuel from time to time, the spark plug fell out four times, and it blew a gasket at least twice. Please run for one flawless minute, you piece of junk, Spike prayed as he climbed in. Just for once in your miserable life. He flipped the start switch, initiated the quiberium, and waited. There was a steady hum of power and a slight vibration coming from the long fuselage of the ship. Spike's heart skipped a beat. It works! he thought joyfully. It works! It works! It wor- Suddenly, the whole ship rocked with an impact that nearly sent him into the pilot wheel. The warning screen flashed red and beeped. Spike face palmed dramatically, now frustrated. He could only think one thing. Oh, pony feathers. Starlight was within sight of the Star, when she saw its backside smoking and Spike running out of the cockpit. "What happened?" Spike shook his head. "Engine's shot beyond repair," he said with heavy sarcasm. "And what do you know, we're in the middle of freaking nowhere to find any parts." Starlight looked at him, trying to comprehend what he said. "So you mean...?" Spike nodded. "Yup, we're stranded here, with no way out." That meant that if they stayed here, they would die, and the only way to save the world would soon be in the hands of the enemy. Which meant it was time to go to plan B. She pulled out the crystal, and put it in Spike's hand. "Spike, I need you to take this and run, run as fast you can and get away from here. Go to Las Pegasus, get to the Rebellion, anything! But don't look back or let anyone take this." He looked at her like she was crazy. "But what will you do?" She unholstered her guns, and loaded them with her magic. "I'll hold the fort, and go down fighting. The captain goes down with her ship." She turned back to him, seeing that his bewildered expression didn't change, and reassured him with a pat on the back. "I'll catch up with you," she said, turning away. "Now go, quickly! And let the magic guide you!" She turned back only once, to see Spike running in the direction of north-west, before turning to face the fray. Spike ran, not caring that he had no idea where he was going,or what to do, or that his cloak had fallen off. All he cared about was getting away, about running. The only thing he wore now was his old belt, the crystal still in a small pouch, safe from intruders. He kept running, unaware of the adventure that was about to begin. Author's Note This is (somewhat) inspired off the following video: Phew! Glad that's done.
Chapter 2She couldn't see. She couldn't feel anything. She couldn't hear above the soft breeze of her surroundings. All thought was lost in the sea of darkness that surrounded her. She also felt hungry, starving actually. But fear gave way to hunger, and curiosity as well. Where in the name of pony feathers was she? She opened up her eyes, almost tentatively, and when she opened them fully, she had no idea where she was. She was apparently lying in a bed, and there was a canopy above it, but that was all she could see so far. She rubbed her eyes, apparently still groggy from a long nap, and attempted to sit up. This was harder than ever to do, because she felt as though her presence was practically glued to the bed, and her limbs felt like lead. But she persevered, and could now get a full view of her surroundings. Her first impression: The whole room was made of wood. Her second impression: She had no idea where she was. The room was mostly bare and empty, save for a vanity mirror that sat from across her bed. The pony that stared back at her was young, no more than a filly that had a coat colored yellow, with a red mane and a reddish-pink bow that was tied to her hair, most likely for decoration. Apple Bloom. My name is Apple Bloom. She paused, wondering. How could she not know her own name before? How did it escape her, when she should've know before if it was common knowledge? Then it horrifyingly dawned on her. She didn't know anything at all. Family, friends, lifestyle: all of it was missing in the warehouse of her mind. And Apple Bloom didn't know where to start looking. She would've continued to wallow in this state of confusion and fear, had not a certain sound that sounded like animals growling came belting out of nowhere, along with a strange sensation of vibrating in her upper midsection, right below the chest. With a sheepish grin, Apple Bloom knew that she didn't have to be a brain scientist to know that she was starving. She lifted herself off the bed, intending to land on her feet, but her legs didn't respond and they collapsed like jelly beneath her. Her face collided with the wood floor, causing her vision to swim a little. Clearly she hadn't used her legs in a long time if she was this unstable. "Help," she managed to croak. "Help me." There was silence. No reply, not even the smallest squeak of wood. All right Apple Bloom, she scolded herself. You need to get a grip on yourself. Nobody's gonna come, and apparently you have no family to take care of you until you manage to find them. Right now you need to carry yourself. Safe to say, the trip to the kitchen downstairs (how did she know it was downstairs?) was painful. She tripped twice on her chin, and she fell down the stairs as she reached the fourth step, landing with a thump on the floor and nearly busting her jaw again. She then had to drag herself into the kitchen - which was empty save for the counters, bellows powered stove, and fridge - by her front legs and pry the fridge open, which was no easy task. Inside she found a bowl of spaghetti, some grape jam, and a few biscuits. She tried to pull them out of the fridge, but ended up with the food spilling onto the floor, the spaghetti bearing the resemblance to spilled guts mixed with purple bruise. In her condition, however, Apple Bloom wasn't picky, and she scooped up the mess like a cannibal with fresh kill in front. She horked it down with great slurps and moshing, all table manners and etiquette forgotten, until there was nothing but a stain of red and purple, with a few missed strands of spaghetti. With a burp of satisfaction, she lay down upon the floor on her back with full contentment. In her dream, there was only whiteness. White, like her, but more of a purity than her alabaster color, which contrasted with the whiteness to make her visible. The only thing that blemished it was her rose and purple mane and tail, which was another thing that kept from blending in and being lost in the white. It was also quiet, she noticed. Sound seemed non-existent in this quiet nexus between wakefulness and unconsciousness, and there was simply nothing and yet everything, where nothing is made in this world but it is open to any possibility. Just a blank sheet of paper for a plane of existence. Where am I? she asked in her mind. Then, out of hope, desperation, and a whim she added, Luna, are you here? If so, can you tell me what's going on? [There is no Luna here, young'un. There is only Now.] The words startled her. They were calm and soothing, but were disembodied in a way that made her shudder. She wheeled around, sure that she heard something behind her. No one was there. Who are you? Show yourself! she barked, hoping to channel an inner Rainbow Dash, though right now her knees were knocking hard against each other. [Then turn around, and see me for who I am.] Normally, she would've trusted her better judgements than then take the word of strange disembodied voices, but against her common sense and before she could stop herself, she wheeled around in the opposite direction. Her eyes were met with the sight of a... Desk? She blinked, rubbed her eyes a little, but it was still there. And it was a desk, made of solid oak and looked like the kind you could store things while writing on them as well. The handles were made of a black metal that she couldn't place, and in front of it was a large chair. With a slight smirk on her face, she was reminded of that chair that Diamond Tiara used to sit in when she was (briefly) the editor in chief of the Foal Free Press. She must've been real comfy in that chair back in those days, because this one looked good enough to sleep-sit in. Only now, there was no stuffy, prissy editor in chief, and Diamond Tiara had come a long way since then. But there was someone sitting there, she could already tell from the fact there was a head poking from over the top. But it wasn't a pony's head, for it was rosy-pale in color, and the only hair she could see was a short brown crop on the crown and down the back. The ears were rounded and didn't sit atop his head (she was sure it was a he), and as she walked over to examine a side view of him, she noticed that his muzzle had shrunken to a single blunt point in the middle of his face.She also noticed he had longer back legs and arms with pinkish, fleshy, sausage-like things on the end. She couldn't see above the desk, small as she was, but seeing that a pencil was moving vigorously with those strange talons of his, he was clearly writing something. He continued this ritual for a few more minutes, then looked up, a sign that told him he had a visitor, and turned to her. He wore a pair of glasses, and his eyes, unsmiling though not unkind, looked down into her green ones. She was surprised by their startling blue color, and by how they seemed smaller compared to hers. Who are you? she asked. He did not answer at once. But when he did, she found herself surprised by what she heard, for it was not in words, but in her head. [I have many names. Sometimes I'm Dale Fallow, sometimes I'm Darrell Chad, othertimes many call me Dave Cratchit. Some call me the Writer, the Illustrator, the Man of no Place.] With that, his eyes changed to the milky white of a blind person. [But if you want my real name, then I shall give it. My name is Zachary Nicholas Walden.] Out of all things she could've been, there was one thing that Scootaloo wasn't: a thief. For her part, the proper word was "scavenger." Ever since everything went down, the orange pegasus filly had believed that taking from the properties of former Ponyville citizens was close to the sin of stealing. Sweetie had to remind her 3 times in the past few months that if no one lived in Ponyville and they left behind things, then it was theirs by right, since nobody was going to use it. Still, it kind of felt wrong to take something that wasn't theirs, and think that it was for a worthy cause didn't make her feel any better. She didn't want to take, she wanted to fly through town on her scooter, using ramps to soar across the sky, listening to the long sought out compliments of her idol as she blotted the view of the sun. But that was just talk, the talk of a dreamer. Rainbow Dash was either missing or vanished, the bad guys patrolled the streets every night for potential runaways, not to mention the occasional flight across the sky during the day. Their rules were rules, no matter how much they sucked. You had to avoid the inspections, plunder what you could, or you did not survive. Today her supply mission was to the one place that brought bad memories. The red farm was in sight, with its hanging Apple sign, and Scootaloo had to admit, despite the fact that the plants from the Everfree were now mounting an invasion on Ponyville, it seemed that Sweet Apple Acres was well preserved in some way. It could've been a curse for all she knew. She checked her watch - a relic from the old days before holograms were invented - and found it was almost 12:00. Some more time before patrols, the filly thought to herself. I'll be done by then. This all I need to do for today. She climbed one of the hills that gave her a view of the house and it's surrounding yards, and parked under a particularly dense tree, grabbing the three burlap sacks that sat in the Radio Flyer, a small metal wagon she had managed to procure from her old house and made a device to attach the wagon to the scooter. Now all there was to do was collect the apples and get home. She prepared to walk to the nearest tree when she looked back at the farmhouse, then at the small horn attached to the handle bars, and smiled a sad, nostalgic smile. She remembered how Apple Bloom would run out the door and laugh every time Scootaloo honked the small horn, and there would be more crusading to do when that happened. So, with no small fanfare and little announcement, Scootaloo honked that horn. Two small toot-toots in the direction of the former Apple family residence. Not that anyone would come out, she thought as she looked back. I'd be lucky a lucky filly if I could see... Her smile vanished abruptly. She blinked once, twice, then rubbed her eyes with her hooves. She could be dreaming or crazy or maybe even both, but she could've sworn she saw a figure exiting the door to the kitchen. A federation spy, perhaps? A scavenger looking for spare parts? A thief who liked to take what was theirs and sell it? Better go and investigate, she thought. The apples could wait, and besides, Sweetie Belle's burn apple pie was something she could live without for now. Her cooking might've gotten better over the past few years, but she was still working through the deserts stage. Scootaloo thought that if Sweetie Belle made another apple turnover, she would have stomach pains for days. Not to mention she was still protective of the house and it's possessions. It was a place that was a reminder of the happier times, and times that could come again, so her feelings were sentimental. She rode down the hill going into "auto mode" and let gravity take her to the dirt road that led to Sweet Apple Acres. Once she hit the dusty track she put on the speed and flapped her small wings in quick, hummingbird flaps. The scooter was in no time rocketing down the road. Apple Bloom would've lain in full ecstasy had she not heard the honking toots of a child's toy. She managed to lift herself slowly - half with renewed strength, half with lazy reluctance - and managed to trot out the back door, which took effort because it was difficult to turn to knob to the lower part of the door due to the fact that not all her strength was there. When she did manage to get out, she immediately pulled a hoof over her eyes to ward away the blinding light of the sun. In the house, the shutters had been drawn and closed and the windows seemed to be boarded, for only the faintest traces of light had only been able to get through the cracks. Now, seeing it here in full blast, Apple Bloom realized that she had never seen the sun during her sleep, whenever that started. When the sun did give her eyes a chance to adjust to the bright radiance of the solar body, she saw only one thing: fields. Gigantic green fields filled with trees speckled with fat, red, heart-shaped fruits (Apples...) that seemed ripe for picking and tasting their juicy flesh. She turned to her left and saw more field with more apple trees, and the same to her left, only it appeared that there were three small structure with slanted roofs and behind those, there was a compound behind it with a half-circle ring of fence that she recognized as a pigpen. To where she was, she looked behind her only to see a large structure made of red painted wood towering above her. By the look of the steeple on top, with the Apple weather vane on top pointing west, Apple Bloom guessed that it was a barn converted into a home fit for ponies. Not that she couldn't be one of the ponies that lived here; she could barely remember where she came from. Then why does this place seem familiar? She decided not to stress the point. It would be best if she didn't think about it now, and find a place to stay, someplace that wasn't a barn. She could see a village in the distance, one that seemed to be a place where there could be a pony that could help her. The only solution was to start walking. "APPLE BLOOM!" She turned at the sound, but only managed to see an orange blur hurtle into her before she was knocked over with the breath driven out of her as she was thrown to the ground. The force of the impact rocked her, causing her to black out for a moment before she regained consciousness, although she found that there was a humongous weight on her chest that had crushed out her breath. It was only after her vision stopped swimming that she realized the weight was a someone, and someone she didn't recognize. She was a small orange filly, with small wings attached to her back (A Pegasus she's a Pegasus) with her mane in a shock of unkempt purple hair, with eyes to match the color. Apple Bloom couldn't recognize her, but the filly could certainly recognize Apple Bloom, cause she began to lift the yellow filly into the air and squeeze her in a life-killing hug, all the while gleefully trying to hold a conversation with the already speech-dead Apple Bloom. "Where have you been all this time?" the orange filly cried, squeezing the other harder. "When I didn't see you in the evacuation I thought you were dead or something, then I see you for the first time walking around Sweet Apple Acres like you never left, and just don't know how to say how excited I am that your here!" Apple Bloom's face was turning blue with the crushing embrace of the orange filly. Luckily, she saw the consequences of her hugs and let go, letting Apple Bloom fall to the ground with a whump. The orange filly sheepishly scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Sorry, I went a little Pinkie Pie there for a second. Just don't tell Rainbow Dash I went sappy with you." Apple Bloom sucked in a load of air before asking, "Who are ya?" The other pony recoiled a little, taken aback. "What do you mean, 'who am I?'" She puffed out her chest with pride. "I'm Scootaloo, one of the most well known scooter champion and Cutie Mark Crusader, and your saying that you don't know who I am?" Apple Bloom managed to pick herself up and look at the orange filly who called herself Scootaloo, and shook her head, feeling frightened by how the pony knew her more than she did. Seeing the look that Apple Bloom that must've been bewilderment, she asked, with growing horror and concern, "Apple Bloom, you're not kidding, I hope? Please tell me you aren't kidding." "Ah'm sorry, but..." she said. "Ah don't know where Ah am, or who Ah am, or why Ah'm here. It's just so hazy." She then looked at Scootaloo, hopefully. "Maybe you could tell me?" Scootaloo looked like she was going to answer, but suddenly there was a beeping sound that made Apple Bloom jump a little. Scootaloo lifted her hoof, where what appeared to be a small metal band was beeping loudly and annoyingly (A watch) before Scootaloo clicked it of. Then she ran to a nearby bush and pulled out a scooter with a wagon attached to it. "I can't tell you here," Scootaloo said, strapping on a helmet, her face unusually grim as she peered up in the sky. She seemed a little agitated now, and for a minute Apple Bloom though she was checking for rain."But we should get going, and fast. They'll be here soon, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my fillyhood as delinquent in prison." "Who?" Scootaloo didn't answer but motioned for her to get on, just as a sort of whum-whum sound reverberated through the air. It seemed to be coming from the east, a kind of thrumming, reverberating noise in the distance that was slowly growing in beat and noise. It felt like it was vibrating Apple Bloom's chest, threatening to shake her organs to liquid and her make her early appetizer of pasta and jam come hurling out. She also had the feeling that the thing that was coming wasn't friendly. So she hopped onto the scooter without another word. The ride through the village (Scootaloo called it "Ponyville") was no short of disappointing. In truth, she was hoping to see a town filled to the brim with ponies like her, trotting through the streets and alleys on their way to their work, to stalls selling fresh fruits, or to talk amongst friends in taverns, restaurants, and bakeries. She hoped to talk to a few, ask her if they knew her, see if they could help her, and maybe get headway in finding out who she was. What she saw were streets overgrown with crabgrass, dandelions, and various weeds: jimsonweed, plantain, and ground-ivy. There were covered in kudzu so thick that they looked more like veins than vines. The only beauty to this pitted and diseased town were a few beautiful flowers here and there. But what caught Apple Bloom's eye most of all was the fact that there were no ponies in town, at least not any that were alive. The whumming sound of the unseen vehicle in the sky was still hung, but it was distant now, having apparently not noticed them - to the surprise of Scootaloo - though when she tried to get a good look at it, Apple Bloom only saw a rectangular silhouette in the sky blocking out the sun before it zoomed away in an easterly direction. Apple Bloom decided not pursue any questions. "And here we are!" Scootaloo's voice snapped Apple Bloom out of her reverie. They were looking at a towering structure that was two stories high, sporting a largely cylindrical building shape with decorative pillars and galloping pony sculptures lining the lower and upper exterior, resembling a highly decorated carousel. The spire was topped by a small, triangular red flag that waved in the wind. It was clear that the place had seen better times, for the windows were boarded up, leaving nothing to be seen in the windows. Scootaloo hopped off, lifting Apple Bloom off the wagon (with difficulty), and hid the scooter and it's trailer behind a bush. "Why are we here?" Apple Bloom asked. Scootaloo slipped off her helmet, tossing it into the bush. "This is home base. Hopefully Sweetie Belle will be excited to see you, seeing that your still alive and all that. Though let me warn you..." She leaned in to whisper in Apple Bloom's ear, "Don't try her apple pie." Apple Bloom cocked her head. "Why?" Scootaloo waved it away. "Just...don't. You'll have a stomachache afterwards for days." She turned and knocked on the door, shouting, "Hey, Sweetie Belle, open up! I got a surprise for you! Open up and let me in!" There was no reply for a minute, and Apple Bloom was deciding to steal the scooter and blitz off, when a groggy voice answered from behind the door, "Did you bring the apples?" Scootaloo suddenly seemed to realize that she had apparently forgotten something, then blushed sheepishly. "I...might've forgotten them," she said guiltily. The voice on the other side of the door grumbled, then said grumpily, "Then unless the Feds have decided to take up farm life, or if some earth-shattering event has just occurred, then I'm not interested." Scootaloo sighed in annoyance. "Sweetie Belle, just open up." There was nothing for a few minutes, then to Apple Bloom's surprise, the door knob was surrounded by a green aura, (magic) turned in it's socket, and the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a filly about Scootaloo's height and age, with marble-white skin, rose-and-violet hair, and green eyes. She irate and tired, proven by the bags under her eyes and the mussy hair, as well as her belligerent attitude as she blinked away the sun. "Well, what is it? What is so important that it needs-" Her eyes widened and bulged, her mouth went slack, and her ranting died in her throat. She was staring at Apple Bloom, who felt uncomfortable and wormy in her intense green gaze. The filly - apparently called Sweetie Belle - approached Apple Bloom, mouth in a wide "O" of shock, and touched the yellow filly's chest, as if testing to see if she was there. "Uh," Apple Bloom said, shifting uncomfortably. "Hello?" Sweetie Belle stared, stared, stared some more...then fainted dead away. Author's Note The "italics in parentheses" bit is borrowed from Stephan King. Love you man, and that's from the heart. The rest of Sweetie Belle's dream will be revealed later.
