Letters from the Homefront

The House of the Phoenix was a small but classy old-time place with round wooden tables beneath low lights, a long bar with every variety of liquor on the shelves behind it, the scent of spilled cider, cigarette smoke, and dip hanging in the air along with the constant murmur of mixed voices: the kind of place where ponies would go for some conversation and get just sauced enough that their slightly more sober friends would have to call a cab for them. The painting of a phoenix rising from a flame, droplets of fire dripping from its spread wings, adorned one wall: the wall was decorated with several black and white photographs of past events and frequent visitors.

The bartender, a tall brown pegasus with red hair streaked with gray, green eyes that had not yet lost their spark, a cutie mark of a five-pointed silver star with wings, and a stump where his left wing used to be, was behind the bar, washing a stein. Shining Armor himself was sitting at the bar, slumped over a piece of paper and a shot glass of whiskey sour. As one, both stallions turned and glanced over at one of the tables in the far corner of the bar.

Two ponies sat at the bar, a pair of unicorns, both of them taller and broader than most earth ponies with military standard buzzcuts. Each of them wore uniforms of crystal blue and white, with the emblem of a snowflake on a blue background on their left forelegs. Their right forelegs were both adorned with three chevrons. The two of them had been muttering together, but stopped and looked up when they sensed the gaze of the stallions at the bar. The Crystal soldiers stared coolly back at Shining and the bartender for three long seconds of silence. Finally, the bartender grunted and looked away, prompting Shining to turn his gaze back as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Crystal soldiers putting their heads back together and continuing their muted conversation.

Taking up his pen and his glass in his magic, Shining downed a sip and began to write.

Dear Cadance,

Something’s not right. Those Crystal Soldiers that came over to Fort Mustang? They’ve been spending a lot of time by themselves, muttering to each other. And one of them came up to me in the Phoenix yesterday and started asking about you. He said he was just making conversation—talked to me about his wife back home in Coeur, who’s pregnant with their second child—and I wanted to seem polite, but it felt...weird.

Most of the soldiers here are ignoring the Crystal Soldiers; they’re not happy about how the Crystal Army’s been stationed on the borders of our land, doing those exercises. I’ve had to chastise several of my soldiers for speaking rudely about them when they were around and let me tell you, it’s not doing wonders for my reputation. I’m just trying to be fair! The Crystal Empire and its soldiers are supposed to be our allies, but these guys are starting to get pretty fishy-looking to me.

I want to keep believing that we’re on the same side, but more and more ponies are turning against the Crystal Empire. Did you hear that a stray shell landed outside somepony’s house in Manehattan two days ago? Thank the Mother that nopony was hurt, but the entire nation was up in arms about it.

How’s your mother? Have you heard from her at all? The papers say that she hasn’t been seen since this summer, but I had hoped that she would’ve said something to you. I just want to know that things are going to be all right.

Give my love to mom, dad, Twilight, and Spike,

Shining Armor

Finishing his letter and his drink simultaneously, Shining folded up the sheet of paper as he pulled some bits out of his pocket and placed them on the counter.

"Leftenant," the bartender muttered as he scooped the bits up with his wing.

"Sir?" Shining asked. The elder might have turned in his uniform long ago, but he still carried himself with the bearing of an officer, and that, more than anything else, commanded the respect of all who knew him.

The bartender looked over at the Crystal soldiers again, then back at Shining, his gaze steely. "Be careful who you trust," he advised.

"Yes, sir," Shining nodded and stood. He turned to exit the bar, casting another look over at the soldiers again as he exited the door. Both of them were bending over a large sheet of paper, one of them tapping it with his hoof.

It wasn't until Shining Armor was halfway back to Fort Mustang that he realized what the paper was. A map of Canterlot.