To End Another War

The four princess of Equestria stood nervously around a small table in Princess Celestia’s private study, deep inside Canterlot Castle. The table was bare apart from an ancient sword hilt, with it’s shattered blade sitting in an old glass case, having supposedly belonged to a great Equestrian general from a long gone era, so long gone that even Celestia and Luna had forgotten his name. Even most of his many deeds had perished to the ravages of time, except for what little was written down and able to be retained until this day. Also engraved on the table was a strange and ancient symbol, etched on the table’s smooth surface by the very same blade that lay in the center of it long ago.

“Princess Celestia, are you sure this will even work? There are no records of anypony ever attempting this spell. How do we know anypony has completed it successfully before?” Princess Twilight asked her mentor, nervously.

“We don’t know, Twilight, but this could be what saves Equestria from the dire threat it currently faces,” Celestia said calmly, even though on the inside she felt just as nervous as her old student. “Now, just remember Twilight. Focus your magic along with ours, and think about who we want to bring back before us. Keep in mind the qualities of the pony we beseech to return and aid us. His bravery, his resolve, his quick thinking, his uncompromising will, the cunning mind. Keep it all in the forefront of your mind and let your thoughts guide the spell as it seeks the soul we are looking for.”

Twilight slowly spoke after Celestia finished explaining the ritual process for what was probably the thousandth time. “I will, Celestia.”

“This is still a little vague, Aunt Celestia. The pony we seek is almost an unknown. Will it be enough?” Princess Cadance asked.

“And thus the sword, dear niece,” Princess Luna said, gently pointing with her aching leg at the weapon of war among them. “If it truly belonged to him it will serve as a secondary focus for the spell to latch on.”

“But is it?” Cadance questioned.

“It is,” Celestia assured her. “I went to his grave myself. It was the best I could find, buried next to him.”

“Are we all ready then?” Luna asked anxiously, and the rest of her fellow princesses nodded. “Then let us begin,” Luna finished as she sparked her horn and began casting the spell. The rest of the princesses followed suit, and they all focused their magic into one.

As the magic began to collect into a bright ball, above the table. There was nothing for the first moments….. until a small dark pin-prick began to show in the midst of the bright ball of magic. This pin-prick began to grow reaching a decent size, and spreading to the rest, a thick fog of dark smoke forming and swirling around it.

“Focus, focus everyone. We cannot be distracted at this stage, this much magic in one place has to be controlled or else it would result in catastrophe.” Celestia warned to everyone, as the strain began to show on everyone. “Don’t worry Princess, I won’t let you down.” Twilight replied back.

As the portal began to grow larger, strange sounds soon started to echo throughout the room. Cries of help, mercy and words in a foreign tongue, seemingly distorted, and then came the sounds of explosions. Waves of bright orange lights began flashing thru the portal, colouring the white smoke pouring out, along with more sharp, cracking sounds of a unknown origin.

As soon as it reached a certain size it quickly shrank, but not before a thump of something meaty and soft hit the table in front of them, alongside with the sound of shattered glass. The portal unleashed one more wave of white smoke as a final farewell, obscuring the room.

Far out in the Argonne forests of France, a place that was once a picturesque landscape of nature. It was not that anymore, as the sea of green was now brown, marred by shell-craters. The bushes and creeks gave way to trenches and bunkers, the rotting bodies or pieces of men in dirty grey, tan and baby blue uniforms lay dotted throughout the landscape and the cries of wildlife were exchanged for those of help or of gunfire. And here in one sector of this forest, nearly five hundred American men were stuck in this living nightmare, upon a hill now littered with shallow foxholes dug quickly and desperately. Trapped behind enemy lines and running low on supplies and morale for nearly three days straight.

“John. John!” A voice shouted, shaking one young private out of his daze. He’d been staring at the ground blankly for what seemed like decades. The young private looked up to a see another soldier, even younger, who was looking just as tired and sick as he did. “Come on, grab your gun. Those Huns could come at any minute!” the other soldier continued on, as reality flooded back to one John Law.

Here he was, in what felt like halfway across the world, in France. Twenty three, far away from home and being the big hero, he always heard the recruiters say he would “be”. He turned and nearly gagged at the sight of his dead buddy, who’d been shot through the heart yesterday. John couldn’t even think or process the thought of moving his former friend. John picked up his Springfield that laid next to him and set it on the earth of the his foxhole, right in front of him and facing out, towards the treeline where in his mind, thousands of german stormtroopers lay in wait. The ground was littered with bullet marks, shrapnel and the occasional casing. Speaking of casings, he thought as he felt the pouch on his chest that held his few supplies, I barely have fifteen rounds left.

He stared off at the ruined treeline that surrounded them on all sides, and glanced at the only source of water they had, a small dirty creek that only a madman would attempt to go to now. He nearly threw up upon witnessing the last poor soul who’d tried to reach it, his attempt to get fresh water for the injured rewarded only with a bullet, courtesy of a german sniper hiding on an opposing ridgeline. John simply stared until he felt a light tap on his shoulder. John looked up to see someone he didn’t even have time to recognize before noticing the slip of paper in their hand and standing up.

John placed a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Remember what I told you, and make sure you repeat it to the rest; Keep low, keep safe. You only have to make them think that we’re trying to break out.” The soldier nodded, and John continued, making sure he held his gaze and attention. “I need five minutes, that’s all. Five minutes to make it out of the killing ground and into the forest. From there, it’s up to me to find my way out of this hell hole. Don’t you or anyone else get killed doing this and take your shots carefully. Once we’re outta here, it’s smooth sailing into Berlin.”

The soldier nodded once more, hitting John’s arm in an brotherly way. “Good luck, John,” he said, and left him alone once more. John wished he could remember his name, but the smudge covered faces were a messy blur, their identities lost and hidden, and John couldn’t find it in himself to try too hard. He didn’t want to recognize the face if he ever came across it again, dead and glassy eyes filled with nothing but pain and fear. A look he’d already seen far too much. But he was going to be the one who made sure no more men from his company ended up with that look, no more friends and comrades needing to be buried in makeshift graves then had to be.

He waited impatiently for the increase in shots. He heard a rallying cry swell from his comrades, and the petering of gunfire multiplied, followed by the harsh german cries and the answering guns, so many more than his comrades could bring to bear. He gave it a precious minute, counting inwardly as he laid in a shallow ditch, before climbing to his feet and starting his mad dash across the blasted ground.

He jumped, barely avoiding a raised root that nearly tripped him. Falling down meant death right now, and he knew that. He kept running, and had almost reached the treeline, ignoring the thumps, whistles and cracks of mortars, bullets and explosives that hit the ground around him until all of a sudden his feet went out from under him, and he felt himself going up into the air. There was a moment of sudden shock and force, and everything slowed down before he felt the hard and sudden impact of hitting the ground face first.

Everything was blurry, his ears were ringing as he managed to roll over and let out a loud moan of pain. He tried to stand but for some reason fell down again with a loud scream of pain, and he could do nothing more than crawl under the cover of the nearest tree, propping his back up against it.

Stay awake. Come on, be strong. You can live, you must live, for them. You need to get up for them. he thought as everything started to go dark, coldness slowly spread throughout his body before he finally closed his eyes to see eternal blackness like so many of his friends before him. The smell of gunpowder, was strong in the air. It was the last thing he smelt and tasted, and home was the last place he thought of.

The princesses covered their eyes as the room was covered in pure white smoke, it took moment for them to be able to see anything again, but the smell was the first thing any of them noticed. A thick, sharp burnt and sour, metallic smell filled their nostrils, causing some of them to gag as they tried to waft the white smoke that had suddenly filled the room away from them. After a few minutes the smoke dissipated, revealing a strange creature laying on the table.

A pool of blood was already forming under the unknown creature’s limp body, flowing freely from the grisly remains of its missing left leg. The blood soaking into the dirty tattered clothing. Its face was pale and dirty while its eyes were closed but it was obviously still breathing.

The princesses all gawked and stared at the strange creature that laid before them. As soon as the surprise was over they began examining it. The form was wrong for a pony, and more resemblant of a minotaur. It was too skinny and small, but it had a similar upper frame with two arms. However once their eyes reached the remains of its ‘leg’, and the realization that it was still breathing hit them, the silence was quickly broken.

“Aunty, please call for a doctor. He’s still alive, and this pony’s hurt really bad!” Cadance cried out loud, with barely contained panic in her voice as she rushed towards the being, and began using her magic to put some pressure on what remained of its leg. “I’m going to put some pressure on the wound but he’s looking really pale, Aunties.”

“Sister, tis not the ‘pony’ we wanted nor is it a pony at all,” Luna whispered to her sister who was urgently sending a message for the guards to bring in the palace doctor, while Luna herself gave a more thorough examination with her eyes of their new ‘guest’.

It lacked any horn or wings and was too scrawny looking to be even a young minotaur. A strange, stick like object rested next to its left hand, which Twilight would most likely examine if she was not assisting Candance in providing medical assistance and stabilizing the unknown creature. Poor Twilight, she must be so troubled seeing all this blood for the first time, Luna thought as she noticed Twilight unconsciously shying away from the small, growing puddle of blood, but nonetheless bravely helping to stem the blood.

Eyes moving upwards she noticed that it wore strange wide brimmed and flat metal looking helmet, somewhat dented and scratched, alongside what may have once been a uniform if it was in better condition and not soaked in the being's own blood and what seemed to be dried mud, with many strange symbols and numbers on the shoulders of the tan piece of clothing “He may have been a warrior of some kind, perhaps a weak one amongst his own, if he was only given just a large stick and not a blade”, Luna thought, however before she could think more on this, she was interrupted by the medical team rushing in and taking over from the two princesses who were performing impromptu first aid.

“This is not going the way it was planned, Luna” Celestia stated as she watched the ponies put the being on a stretcher and head towards the medical facilities. “Twilight, dear, please leave that stick aside. I have a strange feeling about it,” Celestia added as Twilight began to look at the front of the stick, down a strange hole it had.

“I agree,sister. I agree,” Luna said.

And another life was extinguished from the furnace of the war to end all wars, fading from his universe to another. Many lives were lost before him and many would do so after him, but John Edward Law, an ordinary person in his own world went somewhere different from the rest of them.

Somewhere where he could be special and even important. Somewhere where this time he could succeed . Somewhere that’d he’d hoped at first was simply a fever dream.