The Siege of Canterlot

Our march through the tunnel was silent. The tunnel was dark, only illuminated by a small candle that the mare carried. Through the silence I could hear small drops of water hit the ground.

I had time to think, at last. After all this mess, after all the murder and death, chaos and destruction: Finally some peace.

But what would I think about? Should I think about what happened back then on the walls? Remember all the ponies that gave their life? Should I think about Cobalt instead? My best friend, my buddy whom I had known since we were little colts? Maybe. Maybe others would do that. Perhaps most ponies would have taken a moment to remember their best friend who had just given his life so that they could survive.

But I am not most ponies. My head, my thoughts: They don’t work like that. He was gone now. Dead. Nothing I did could bring him back nor truly appreciate what he did. And even then...it was his own choice. He chose his fate himself, he chose to go down as his comrades did.

No, I didn’t mourn his death. I honoured it.

But what would I think about then? I couldn’t think about Cobalt, nor all the fighting. What was there to think about? Maybe I could think of a strategy? Maybe a way to turn this battle around?

No, impossible. I was trapped in a tunnel, fleeing from the very enemy I vowed to fight. I told my soldiers not to give them an inch and now...

...Now I was leaving them to die.

This entire time I thought of myself as a high horse, as somepony who was better than the rest. I believed I was smarter, more cunning, simply better than all other officers and even generals. I kept ranting on about how they made huge mistakes, how they made mistakes and refused to correct them, simply repeating it over and over, costing endless amounts of soldiers their lives.

...But was I really any better than them? How much truth did my words really hold? Perhaps I didn’t kill hundreds of ponies, and perhaps I didn’t refuse to correct my mistakes but did this make me any better than them? Did I not just leave my own men? I was the one that told them to hold the walls, wasn’t I? And I was the one that told them to not go one step back.

No. No I wasn’t like all the other officers and generals. But I was a coward. I ran away while those bravehearted stallions under my very command held their ground and fought to the bitter end.

I felt...something I had never felt before. It wasn’t pain, nor was it sadness. No, clearly it wasn’t. It was something different than those.

I felt ashamed.

“So...” Said the mare, still leading the way whilst holding the candle. The filly sat on her back, occasionally turning around towards me. “What’s your name, if I might ask?”

“Smalltalk? Really?” I replied, sounding more grumpy than I intended.

“We still have some time for ourselves, we might as well get to know each other a little bit, right?” She replied in a relatively cheerful, but also weak voice.

I remained silent for a moment. “Brass. My name is Brass.” I replied at last.

“Oh, what a unique name.” She replied with a smile. “I’m Cindy Pastry, and this is my daughter, Stephanie.” She said as the little filly waved at me at hearing her name. “I suppose our names are rather common, unlike yours.”

“Doesn’t make you any less special though, does it?” I replied.

“Oh no, of course not. But then again, unique and rare names have never been very popular in our family.”

“Hey, for my family Brass is a perfectly normal name. We have a long military tradition. That has both good and...negative effects.”

“Oh?” She said, slightly turning her head to the side so she could see me while still walking forward. “What would those be?”

“Well on the positive end...” I explained, “Your parents really watch out for your physical health. My dad always watched out I don’t lose track of my weight, so I don’t get out of form, and he also gave me lots of training lessons in my free time in things like sword fighting, archery and even sailing.”

Cindy nodded. “Well that sounds great. Not exactly my type of cake but, eh, families. What is the negative side of it all though?”

“Well. This.” I said simply.

“...Oh?”

“Due to our tradition, it’s pretty much predetermined that I have to sign into the armed forces if Equestria goes to war. That’s why I’m here.” I explained her. “Or, in short: War. The big negative of all this is having to go to War.”

Cindy remained silent for a couple seconds and gulped. “Well that...sounds...uh...”

“Horrible?” I interrupted.

“I was going to say ‘bad’ but I guess that works too.” She said, attempting to fake a smile. “Sorry to hear all that though, Brass. I’m sure this has all taken quite a toll on you, huh?” She asked, her fake smile fading.

“You could say that.” I told her simply.

“If you wanna talk about it then...”

“No.” I interrupted her again. “No. I wouldn’t want to tell anyone about the things I went through, the things I’ve seen and heard...”

“Don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to talk about it then-”

“Don’t worry about it!?” I suddenly shouted at her. We both stopped, her turning around towards me, her face telling me just how unexpected my reaction was. “I...I’m sorry, Cindy.” I said to her. “I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Sometimes it just-”

“Ssshh...” She interrupted, putting a hoof on my mouth. “I told you it’s alright, didn’t I?” She said, a smile appearing on her face. Only this time, it was genuine, not faked.

“Thanks for understanding...I promise it won’t happen again.” I replied, a slight smile forming on my face.

“Hey, as long as you don’t hurt anyone or insult my cooking skills-” She said, turning back around, her tail softly hitting me in the face as she did, “-I’m fine with it.” Both Cindy and Stephanie giggled out loud, all three of us moving on through the tunnel.

“I’ll try to remember that then.” I said jokingly, also giving out a small laugh.

Although I knew this was all far from over, this entire battle, if not the war, I couldn’t help but lose track of it for the rest of the march through that tunnel. Something kept distracting me, occupying my mind.

I decided to shrug it off, attempted to get rid of those thoughts, and marched on.