Equestria. Earth year: 1799. District: Sugartop Mountains.

"HOLD YOUR POSITIONS!" yelled the man dressed in a long, bloody red coat and a dark brown hat with a turkey plume on its side as air around him was pierced endlessly by flying bullets that brutally landed in soil, stone and wood around us. "There is absolutely no chance they can hit us from their positions! Stay calm and reloooaaaaad!"

His last command sounded like a horn booming through many miles. As I used my ram to press the powder together inside the barrel of my musket, I scanned my surroundings.

To my left, I saw another soldier of Pony Coalition, wearing his dark blue jacket, once-white shirt, now bearing filthy colors of ground, sweat and dust, ammunition bags on his left and powder supply on the right side of his belt, muddy yellow trowsers and dark grey rags on his feet - remaining of what once had been a pair of elegant, shiny black leather boots was hiding from the world underneath it.

Right before my eyes I had nothing but a large pile of soil, digged quickly by our only engineer to cover us decently from oncoming bulletstorm. I sighed, putting my musket on top of the trench, looking right to see you. Dressed in your night guard armor, you were lying behind another pile, breathing heavily. You weren't hurt at all, just like me, you just were surprised by the sudden attack.

Just like me, my friend.

"AIIIIM!" yelled our officer, pointing his rapier at a specific piece of woodlands below us. I raised my musket up, aiming where he told me to. From behind trees, I could see yellow coats aiming and firing without any command, thin layer of smoke rising from their fire, indicating their approximated whereabouts.

I took a deep breath, closing my right eye and calculating the bullet trajectory. When you use a musket without a rifled barrel, you don't really care about aiming. You just hope that at least one of those thirty balls will hit the target.

"LEFT SIDE FIREEE!" he ordered, quickly followed by a serenade of ten muskets releasing their charges in one time. Now he was going to order right side to fire. We were on the right side, but you were not a musketeer. I smiled a little, wanting for you to notice that. I didn't know if you did, but that smile gave me enough strength to pull the trigger.

"RIGHT SIDE FIREEE!" And twelve musket triggers were pulled at the same time. But I didn't feel the familiar recoil.

"Dammit..." I muttered, opening the breech of my musket, taking my powder box and pouring additional amount of black powder onto it. I made sure my lock was discharged as I rammed barrel with my ramrod. I didn't want to shoot myself accidentally.

"CENTEEER FIRE!" ordered officer, followed by another musket boom. Just after the cascade hit its destination, I could hear some foreign voice exclaiming something loudly. What I have seen next froze the blood running through my veins.

I saw a muzzle of a field cannon, directed straight at us. This shining, metal beast on two green, wooden wheels was surely already loaded.

"CANNON!" I yelled, hoping that my officer hears my cries. "CANNON, SIR!"

"He said cannon!" shouted another soldier to my left.

"Cannon!" you yelled with all your lungs' power. You had that loud voice, even if you were scared, you still knew no one would shout that louder than you.

I don't know, what our officer did, when he heard you scream about a cannon, but he quickly ordered us to divide to two groups, leaving the center free. Me and you were on the farther part of a hill. Except for us, there were ten more soldiers and one more bat pony here. The lower area was settled by nineteen men and the Equestrian Royal Guard. Presence of ponies among humans was a condition princess Celestia came up with to strengthen the bond between...

"Pliy!" yelled the foreign officer from the other side of the battlefield. I didn't know Russian, but I was sure this was an order to fire the cannon. When I only looked at this weapon once again, I realized something frightening that made my eyes go wide - the brass beast was turned in our direction.

"Heads low!" I yelled to you, pushing your head into the trench. I've heard the hiss, after which a loud KA-BOOM took over the whole surrounding air. Immediately after the sound came burst of air when the cannonball missed our heads by twenty meters too high, digging deep inside the mountain, crushing its surface into pieces that rolled down, forming an avalanche of debris coming straight at us.

Before I could even react, you pushed me backwards, making me collapse onto the ground.

"Run!" you ordered, pointing at the rubble that was gaining on speed and power. I remember you helped me stand up and run as my knee felt achy from the fall. I remember you saved me from stones that quickly hit our trenches, obliterating most of them. Suddenly, when I was running back to where the larger group of soldiers was, I've heard the same foreign voice yell again.

"Schtyiki!" was all he said. I knew that word. That word meant something awful for me. Awful for us.

Bayonets.

Our officer ordered us to stay and reload, so we did, most of us already having their muskets reloaded.

"Don't be cowards! If they will charge, we will greet them with our lead! If they decide to shoot, we won't give up! God damn it they couldn't shoot an elephant from their posit-"

Suddenly, our officer dropped on the ground, leaving us speechless. His head now possessed a hole big enough to fit a musket ball inside. We were left alone. No one was here to lead us, and our only officer was betrayed by his own experience.

"Zarazhai!" shouted Russians whose steel bayonets reflexed in the evening Sun. I couldn't help but look at their... actually dark green uniforms, a bit similar to those British riflemen have.

The only one who answered Russian battle cry was the least expected person to do so.

The Royal Guard stood up, fearless about lead flying above and around him.

"Fight them! To arms!" he cried, pulling out his sword from a sheath.

"Fire at will!" someone ordered from our trenches. The same person, being a conscript musketeer, gave a shot before sticking a bayonet on his musket's muzzle.

This was the time the hell started.

I couldn't hear anything anymore except for constant, irregular booming from shooting muskets and two languages mixed with each other, flooding my mind like a tsunami.

"GIVE ME MY ROD!"

"VIDEIY ETIH MUDAKOV!"

I looked around to find you, grabbing your sword and deadpanning the oncoming storm.

"NA LEVIY FLANG!"

"THEY ARE CHARGING FROM THE RIGHT!"

"CONFRONT!"

"Noir!" I shouted in your direction. "They're gonna shoot you!"

"Shut up!" you answered, getting your helmet settled on your head. The dark purple metal shone in the setting Sun. Your whole armor consisted of a leather hide on which steel plates were strapped with thick, solid belts.

"VANYA! SYOBIVAI OTSUDAH!"

I couldn't even say my words of warning quickly enough before your body jolted in a sudden shock. I knew exactly what happened.

you were shot.

When I only wanted to rush to your body, I noticed the green soldier's boots, making their way quickly towards us. I looked up to see the Russians being already here. And I...

...I still didn't equip my bayonet...

With only a slight trace of presence in my eyes, I jammed the muzzle of my musket through a ring attached to my metal stinger, seeing how the real battle was starting:

With unintelligible cries on their mouth, soldiers on both sides got into contact five meters from me. I saw every detail of every duel and every fight.

As the closest one came to defend me from too fast death, I've noticed his bayonet was barely sitting in the place it should be, meaning it could fall of any second. He stood in a defensive stance as his opponent rushed at him without any hesitation, sending him backwards for a few steps. I even pointed my stock to push him forward, but he managed to stand by himself, pushing him with the butt of his own gun. Russian tried to point the bayonet at him, but now it was his time to bump him as he knew only close quarter combat will allow him to stand any chances. As he used his stock to beat his bald head (only with a single streak of hair hanging from top of his head to behind his ear), he was quickly pushed by another Russian who tried to help his mate in trouble.

The Royal Guard, however, seemed to enjoy the steel battle more than the lead one as his sword swinged flawlessly from one point to the other, damaging green-bearing Russians. Strange thing was to see a pony who, gripping the broadsword in their muzzle, battled humans with such finesse, so smooth moves, still his head using so much force to those slashes and thrusts. I wondered how their puny pony neck could handle such a workout but not for long. As I placed the ring around my barrel, I was in possession of something much more violent than sticks or stones.

I had a spear that shooted bullets.

As I darted from my trench, I quickly avoided pony slashes, getting to the human as I pushed my musket straight into one Russian's lower neck, trying to cause him fall to the ground, using my musket like a lever. As I did so, I heard a low gurgle from my victim's throat as my blade got stained by a sudden outburst of blood. Disgusting gore splashed over my trowsers as I retrieved my bayonet and pushed the Russian engaging in a very close stock combat with my all, making him lose the advantage of stability as my friend finished him off with a quick move of his musket, engulfing the thirsty knife in his stomach.

This one was much louder than the precious.

As I looked at the blue soldier for a second, I couldn't recognize any of his emotions as he stared at the body underneath him. I had a perfect view of his chest suddenly buldging as he collapsed to the ground, pushed by another Russian who kicked him off of his bloodied bayonet.

His body dropped to the ground, convulsing in pain as the brown boot struck his head hard enough to send him unconscious. Now the Russian stared at me, looking at my weapon pointed at him with a slight smile on his face, taking only a step back.

As I watched my friend getting killed with the same weapon i have, I realized a very meaningful detail. In the meantime, his smile grew bigger as he said in an amused tone.

"I chto ty sobirayesh'sya delat', avstriyets?!" He then spreaded his arms a little, his left hand handling the musket, ordering me in Russian. " Vystrelit' v menya? Nu davay, zhmi na kurok!" He chuckled, pointing his own bayonet at me.

I had absolutely no idea what he just said to me.

I raised my musket, aiming at his chest, quickly pulling the trigger. The loud boom was heard as the weapon pushed my arm back, sending the bullet forward, towards the Russian. Thick layer of smoke covered my vision for a second, making me realize I was now in a centre of attention, surrounded by soldiers fighting with each other in cruel fights.

It wasn't THAT interesting for people to break their fights, but I noticed those quick glances from corners of their eyes as they fought to death with their opponents.

I darted straight towards you. I noticed you were alone, laying on the ground without any traces of living. I grabbed you in my hands, my breath shaking as I didn't notice anyone coming closer to us. Thankful for that, I looked over at your body.

"Noir!" I yelled at you, observing your blood-stained body. I noticed two wounds. One in your hind leg, one in your side. Whoever damaged you, probably ventured straight to the other enemy. I had no idea how I could hear you breathe, but I just did. You were breathing.

That was more than enough of a reason for me to stay by you. I straightened my body, looking around, noticing how doomed we were. The enemy was outnumbering us. Everywhere I looked I saw fighters engaging in a close combat. I knew if we stayed there until the end, we would surely die.

I grabbed your front legs, wrapping them around my neck as I bent forward, forming a reverse cradle with my back for you to lay on. Now I could feel the hot air pushed from your lungs straight on my cold neck.

Screw army. Screw Austria. Screw Caesar.

Right now I only wanted one.

Getting out of here. With you or without you.

As I ran through the battlefield, I heard many Russian screams, as well as those of my companions. I couldn't take any more on my back. Even so, I had no time and I never knew any of them as much as you. But then...

"Stop right there!" I could hear from behind me. I froze, hearing the Russian accent in his voice.

"Drop him and you can go avay!"

...drop him? Did they really care so much about killing all of your race?

"...How could I believe you?" I asked. I had no idea why I didn't run. I was too scared. I was paralyzed in this specific moment. Unable to think, unable to run. The voice came a bit closer to my left ear.

"Do you trust a talking horse, or a sapient human?" He asked, making squishy steps towards me on a muddy ground. "Why do you keep helping a talking horse keep his goods away from humanity for a better use? you either toss a grenade or not toss. You don't eat it whole, because it is not for eating. You don't kick it, you don't stand on it. Then why are you thinking so irrational?!"

I heard him coming closer when suddenly I reminded myself a thing. He reminded me.

I still had my two grenades.

Quickly getting one out of my bag, I looked over my flintlock musket in my left hand and a black pot with a fuse on top of it in my right hand. I had an idea what to do, but it was risky.

I had only one chance.

"Well, do you remember what happened four years ago?" I asked, trying to gain some time and to muffle the cracking of my lock. "1795, sir. Do you know what happened then?"

I placed the fuse slightly under the steel in my lock, hoping sparks will catch it on fire with only one attempt.

"What?"

Tssk!

"you took all of my land. You greedy bastards." I answered, letting Rusophobia slowly to engulf my mind. Seeing the fuse being ignited filled me with happiness as I dropped it on the ground, rushing forward.

"...So you are Pol... Stop! STOP OR I VILL SHOOT YOU! STO-"

I heard a loud boom as I felt hot mud dropping on my shoulders and my head. I also heard your moans on my back as I held you like a small kid - considering your weigth, you felt like one.

"The hay was that..."

Author's Note

Thank you for reading the first chapter! History facts for this part:

• France and Austria wouldn't ever create a coalition in the second half of eighteenth century as it was a time everyone tried to stop France from massive expansion. Napoleon taking over only strenghtened the international hate.

• In 1795 Poland disappeared from the Europe map due to the final partition of it between Russia, Prussia and beforementioned Austria.