Author's Note
Per previous story setup, "All dialogue in bold" is spoken in a foreign language.
Void - Part 1 of 2
Year 4 of the Great War, August 30th,
Silver Mist and I were to be married once the war ended—and the end is so close. I helplessly watched as he perished in a gas attack today, unable to save him. This war has taken everything from me. The light has vanished from my heart.
-Gefr. Schneeblume H.
“Honestly, I’m so jealous of you, Private.”
Schneeblume Herbstlicht’s commanding officer—Verbrannte Erde—spoke with such a foreign, almost giddy emotion that she had to make sure she wasn’t hearing things. He was a fine officer who commanded all her respect, but she never took him to get excited about much, these days.
“I don’t see a reason why you should, sir,” she replied plainly.
Then again, the unbelievable tone in everypony’s voice, including hers, was well warranted—these were extraordinary circumstances, after all. So much so that Schneeblume had to become accustomed to wearing a freshly washed and pressed, more formal uniform than anything she would have been afforded back on the front.
The small pause in conversation allowed the porcelain-white mare to catch a glimpse of herself in one of the palace’s enormous mirrors that flanked their trek.
The opulence was truly a spectacle in and of itself. An Alemaneian herself, she knew that her countryponies—particularly the aristocratic ones—prided themselves on their artistic expressions of wealth.
But all the gold-studded, silk-borne decor bordered debauchery for the simpler mare.
Erde’s voice scattered her musings, and the dark-coated, silver-eyed officer shot her dismissal down at once:
“None of that talk, Schneeblume. You’ve done extraordinarily well for yourself, your unit, your family name, and your country. This is an enormous privilege that few in their wildest dreams will receive. You’ve earned every bit of it,”
Schnee’s dirty, damaged, camouflaged uniform was replaced with a solid, deep blue that reeked of a formality she grew to despise from the military leadership. Foregone was her steel assault helmet—the hallmark of the feared Alemaneian Stormtroops—in place of a matching, black beret with the Alemaneian cross adorned on its right.
Her longer mane was washed, conditioned, prepped to shine, and done up in a beautiful bun. Had the circumstances been different, Schnee would much rather have taken a night on the town in a beautiful dress with some choice company… perhaps wrangle herself a nice stallion.
But no.
Instead, she had to do something so insane, so valorous, so careless of her own life on the battlefield, that it drew the attention of the entire army for the briefest of moments…
…and in that same moment of exposure, somepony very special happened to be watching.
Regarding her commander’s words, however, she disagreed with a simple shake of her head.
“No. It was my duty. No more, no less—anypony else would have done the same. By the same token, I’m not proud of many things I’ve done in the last two years…”
Schneeblume added mirthfully under her breath:
“And not like I really have a family to go back to, anyway…”
They were finally stopped by one last, enormous door, along with two royal guards who were ready to intercept them. Their onyx-black armor, head-to-hoof obscured even their eyes with a visor that was the color of the void itself. The color of their coats underneath their plating were also purely left to the imagination. They reminded Schnee squarely of the knights of the old Alemaneian Confederation.
The right-most warrior stuck their hoof out.
“Halt. What is your business here, soldiers?”
Captain Erde gestured to Schneeblume:
“My subordinate, Private Herbstlicht, has an audience.”
To Schneeblume, the formality seemed out of place—she was practically escorted by various parties to where she was now once she arrived at the Royal Palace… and only just now they were asking any form of identification?
Her personal feelings aside, the shock trooper was a tad concerned about palace security. She half-expected to suddenly fend off assailants that crashed through the imposing windows.
Thankfully, the split moment of silence did not last long, as both faceless guards turned to Schneeblume, then each other, then returned to their posts on either side of the arching door. They became as steely and silent as they were before.
She was granted entrance.
Captain Erde, however, was not.
This was strictly for Schnee, and her act of ‘valor’ that earned her a shining moment of fame above everypony else.
Thankfully, her commanding officer had prepared her fully for the situation, and he turned to her one final time whilst looking at her from every imaginable angle for any imperfections:
“Okay, Schnee… you can do this. Just try to have fun. Remember, this is about you, but don’t forget about your propriety where appropriate. She’s… not like her predecessors so much, so I think you’d get along well with her.
“Just don’t let anxiousness take ahold of you, soldier. You’re adored, you look beautiful, and everything will be just fine,” he reassured.
All the while, he dusted off a piece of fuzz that had found its place on Schnee’s left shoulder, lest it tarnish her beautiful uniform. Perhaps he wasn’t trying so much to convince her, as he was himself?
And the reassurance was an odd one at that.
“I mean… after Gale’s Peak and the Fair Dunes…” Schnee recollected with a sense of dark sarcasm. “…there’s really little I’m afraid of at this point. There’s not much I’m proud of at all, you do know this, right?”
Erde had little choice but to accept her answer, and he nodded in appreciation of her subtlety.
“Fair point, soldier… but we can debate semantics later. She’s waiting for you.”
And with that, he gestured with his hoof towards the door. On cue, the right-most palace guard turned from their post and took the liberty of cracking open the regal door inward with nary a word.
Schneeblume witnessed the small spectacle and, after one last turn towards her captain—who was beaming with pride at the fact that somepony so deserving was in his unit—gave her one last, curt nod of approval and assurances.
She would be just fine.
Everypony knew that. There was absolutely nothing to worry about in the end.
Nope. Not a thing at all.
Schneeblume gulped once, almost out of cliché necessity, and donned a much more righted posture, along with a stoic aura that Alemaneian stormtroopers were known for. One hard blink later, along with running her hoof over her ear, she stepped forward and into the awaiting door.
And after one last deep breath and sigh for good measure, she stepped fully inside.
As if sealing her proverbial fate, the arching doors were closed behind her with a mighty slam that echoed through the hollow, enormous resonance chamber of an auxiliary throne room.
Schneeblume had expected there to be an entourage of reporters and royal attendants to swamp her and take photographs… literally her worst nightmare. She was never one for lavish gatherings or even pictures with strangers—even less so since the war had been raging on. Her personality had withdrawn completely.
Reasonably expected.
But no… her gathering hall in all its glory was completely empty. Nopony sat at the throne, and not even royal guards existed to guard the pillars that connected to the supporting arches of this room. And in drawing her eyesight over the beautiful works of art themselves, she found that said arches led to little but plain ceilings above.
In fact, the rest of the room was quite… barren of the grandiose depictions of wealth that had come to be known in Alemaneian royal society, or even in any royal house of any of the nations of Equidae.
This might have been just an ordinary meeting room if Schnee was led blindfolded to her current location.
And even more curiously, as Schnee’s eyes flicked to either side of her and advanced towards the center of the room, she couldn’t help but feel and odd sense of tranquility that she hadn’t felt since before the war… one she longed for with ever increasing regularity.
So perhaps, being pulled from the trenches was not all that bad.
Especially if she got some goddamn peace and quiet for once. The bath was pleasant, too. That still didn’t help the fact that she could practically see her breath from how cold she felt… how shaky her breath was every time she exhaled.
Perhaps she was a little more nervous that she had hoped to let on to even herself...
“Guten Morgen,” greeted a sudden, silky smooth, flowery voice that flowed over and through Schneeblume’s ears like the purest water in all Alemaneia.
Her eyes widened as she heard the voice come from behind and to her right—literally the door she came through. By reflex, she inhaled deeply.
Swiveling on her hooves partially from being startled, and naturally to investigate, she came face-to-face, from halfway across the room, with the very pony that very few in their entire life would get the privilege to meet up close.
And perhaps the aura of being stunned broke any of Schneeblume’s formality, but through wide, innocent-looking eyes, her now-dry mouth uttered a simple word:
“…Kaiserin…”
The same pony advanced from the gentle shadow cast by the nearest window on the room’s only other entrance, and she came directly into the light.
A simple, form-fitting, deep blue military uniform—the same one that she had fitted when she herself had served in the Imperial Army—was so neatly pressed that Schneeblume could swear that it was painted on her.
The lapels on her shoulders were bright gold, with a soaring, platinum eagle flaring its wings to indicate the highest of royalty, but surprisingly, there was not much more flair than that. Gone was her royal helmet, crown, or visor-cap, instead letting her gorgeous, muted cyan main perfectly weave around her ear and down the base of her neck—an ideal complement to her lighter gray coat.
Her sharp ears (adorned with gorgeous earring ‘wings’ of platinum) pointed directly forward, and those golden eyes—reflecting more light than the very gold on her shoulders—allowed Schnee to peer into the soul of the highest, most powerful pony in the continent, and closest contender in the world:
Kaiserin Regenfall IV.
Regenfall continued to step forward—seemingly not at all bothered by Schnee’s lack of a curtsy—and met Schnee’s stunned face with a beaming, youthful, symmetric smile. Schnee also noticed that her leader’s left eye had some sort of aberration at the edge of her iris, as if somepony had cut a swathe through the vortex of those golden pools.
“Gefreiter Scheeblume Herbstlicht,” she acknowledged in return with a gentle nod.
She snapped to a salute so perfect that Schneeblume could hear the static crackle from her uniform.
Schneeblume was snapped out of her stupor, and she returned the salute to the taller mare in earnest, returning a shaky smile as best as she could given the circumstances.
And at that moment, Regenfall dropped all formalities and snagged Schnee’s neck in a hard embrace that evacuated her lungs from how hard she was squeezed. If she had been stunned upon the Kaiserin’s entrance, she was completely stone-faced, now.
So much so that Schnee was not able to properly return the ‘royal hug,’ but thankfully, the Kaiserin didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, as she pulled back and regarded her warrior with an enormous, prideful smirk.
Schneeblume barely had time to remark how young she looked…
The Alemaneian ruler then danced on her hooves giddily—seemingly more enamored at Schnee's presence than the other way around—and brushed past the stricken soldier.
“I’m so thrilled you’re here! Come! Come! We have much to discuss over lunch!” the Kaiserin excitedly beckoned Schnee, waving her over.
In the split second before it would have become inappropriate to react to Her Majesty’s call, Schnee’s mind was already in shambles. This was the mighty Alemaneian Queen that had given those addresses, who had so forcefully called to an end to Allied encroachment?
This girly, giddy, seemingly-as-young-as-Schnee mare was the Kaiserin?
Well, she looked exactly like the pictures.
And right then is where Schnee fell into step with her ruler.
Right before their eyes, a squad of at least a dozen royal servants burst through the doors carrying various equipment. With slight of hoof over the next several seconds that even impressed Schneeblume, a small table with two chairs was set up… including a reasonable amount of fresh food array atop a simple, white tablecloth.
Lunch was served in about the amount of time it took Schneeblume and team to set up a heavy machine gun.
Kaiserin Regenfall flipped her mane and regarded Schnee playfully over her shoulder.
“Shall we?”
And just like that, Schneeblume promptly found herself sitting at a small table—stacked with some of her favorite dishes to serve herself—having lunch with the monarch of her nation.
Weirder things have happened, she supposed.
“You met the Kaiserin?!” Sweetie Belle’s voice ripped through the post-story atmosphere, and Schnee had to internally remark that her adolescent face was adorable when it was gripped in abject shock.
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, sitting on either side of the coiffed-maned young mare held similar, albeit less-struck demeanors. Still, it was quite the revelation.
The three best friends were sat on their usual, comfy couch in Schnee’s home across from their host.
Schneeblume—Ponyville’s newest but well-established florist—reclined back in her own chair, and tinged her ceramic, right hoof against the teacup she cradled in her left. A smug but, ever-so-slightly awkward smile was adorned on her face.
Her Alemaneian accent bathed her eventual reply in a silky-smooth tone:
“Honestly, I wasn’t a stuttering mess at the time. I had been picked for something I considered my duty during the War.”
Apple Bloom chimed in:
“But, doesn’t that make ya like… a celebrity?”
Schneeblume nodded in consideration.
“It did… for a small time I suppose. But thanks to her, I wasn’t too much in the limelight. I’d rather not have had all eyes on me when I went back to the front, ja?”
Scootaloo seemed to agree with Schnee’s rather nonchalant attitude to the whole ordeal.
“Yeah… to me, you don’t really seem the type to really want to put yourself out there, if that makes any sense.”
A newer, much more masculine voice cut into the conversation by clearing their throat:
“Indeed,” the brown-eyed, beige-coated Tea Leaf sat patiently in his own chair adjacent to both parties. His distinctly Anglomane accent was directed at Schnee.
“You certainly don’t seem the public type.”
Schneeblume was quick to confirm that with a more-than-satisfied shake of her head. Her mane—having grown longer and a bit fluffier over the past month—bounced in tandem.
“Nein! But no matter what happened, how quiet ponies tried to keep it, it was bound to get out eventually. Especially to my unit,” she explained, uncrossing and re-crossing her hind legs in her chair.
“One doesn’t just fight a battle one day, then the next get suddenly pulled from the frontline when they’re not wounded. Your comrades will have questions!” she noted, and Tea Leaf, a veteran of the Anglomane army that opposed Schneeblume’s Alemaneian forces, agreed with a deep nod.
“Quite so,” he added.
Schneeblume smirked at Tea, and how comfortable he had become in what were ritual ‘talks’ between her and the Crusaders. She remembered vividly when he introduced himself to her, and asked her a rather tough, but important question about her post-war experiences.
Namely, how she dealt with it all.
And through that, they happened to become quite close friends. It was interesting to note that a lot of other soldiers had fled Equidae once the war ended, and she supposed it was only time before she met somepony who used to be her ‘enemy.’
She did not expect him to become as close as he was, though. Funny how life worked like that.
Turning back towards the Crusaders, Sweetie Belle still harbored a distinctly shocked look on her face.
Schnee chuckled:
“You seem unsettled, Sweetie Belle,” she pointed out, which shook the teenage filly out of her stupor.
“Maybe I just don’t understand,” she replied. “But I’d tell that story all the time! I just had no idea that you had such a… mark of excellence on your record,” Sweetie added, unsure of her choice of words but getting her point across nonetheless.
Schneeblume shrugged.
“As I said before, I did not place pivotal importance on it. You three have met Princess Celestia multiple times in your young lives… it probably does not strike you much, I’d wager.”
The three Crusaders had to concede that point.
Scootaloo, however was quite eager to hear what happened next:
“This is gettin’ intense! What happened then?”
Even Tea Leaf was most inquisitive:
“Indeed. I’m curious to how this ended…”
The jet-black maned mare brushed off some dust from her ceramic hoof and set her tea down to continue.
“Well, by that time, we had set up for lunch, and there I was, eating with the leader of our empire at the time…”
“Please, as much as you like!” Regenfall insisted as she witnessed Schnee barely scooping much onto her plate.
“I’m aware that at certain times… nourishment isn’t exactly plentiful on the front…” she admitted a bit sheepishly.
To Schneeblume, perhaps that comment was a mite insensitive—though it was one-hundred percent true—but well-meaning nonetheless. Schnee did as her stomach commanded in that case, and scooped much more mashed potatoes and Alemaneian cooked fish onto her plate.
Schneeblume looked over at her ruler, however, and noticed that she was not following her own advice. In fact, it looked like she was rationing herself strictly.
Schneeblume’s lungs burned to say something about what she was witnessing, but thankfully, she didn’t have to speak up, as Regenfall easily felt the soldier’s stare on her.
“I prefer to mimic the average, current rations of my soldiers on the front. If you feast, I feast. If you go without, so will I. It’s only fair.”
Schneeblume blinked. And blinked hard.
Was this mare truly royalty? If she didn’t resemble all the portraits around the city and the palace, she would’ve sworn that this was an imposter. But no, here was the Kaiserin limiting herself to what the soldiers often ate at the front.
Then again, she was a soldier at one point as well. Perhaps not old enough by any means to have served in the Pranco-Alemaneian War of a few decades ago, but at least had some measure of grasp of the soldiers’ plight.
Credit where credit was due.
The pair continued to indulge in a calm silence. While there was awkwardness initially, Schneeblume’s feelings of unease in her core had slowly whittled away as she introduced food to her mouth. Then, it was like eating—in some manner—with an old family acquaintance.
The gentle clinking of plates continued for an unknown amount of time before Regenfall spoke up once again:
“I hope you know that your acts of valor have not gone unnoticed, Private,” the Kaiserin brought up.
Schnee finally found it appropriate to speak after chewing her food.
“I’m a soldier, much like my comrades, Your Highness. Anypony else would have done what I did in the circumstances my company faced. I just happened to be the pony in that pivotal point,” Schnee replied so matter-of-factly.
Regenfall looked up from her plate and regarded her with a warm smile.
“You’re much too humble, my valiant warrior. But unfortunately, that’s where you’re wrong,” she countered.
“There are very few soldiers on the field who would muster up the courage you did, in the face of a gruelling, onslaught of an offensive by the Prench. In fact, reading the order of battle, the safest, most cost-effective plan was to retreat a couple of miles.”
Schneeblume only paid close attention as the Kaiserin kept talking:
“But you… you led a counterattack against a still-moving offensive spearhead. You held that ridge within an inch of your lives… and you won! You allowed your division to follow up and roll back the Prench gains.
“We gained ground during an enemy offensive.”
She pointed to Schneeblume’s chest. A bright, beaming smile adorned the Kaiserin’s face.
“Because of you, noble Schneeblume.”
Schneeblume managed a small, prideful smirk and nodded deeply to her leader.
“Thank you for the recognition, my Queen… but I assure you it was a group effort. My company… my division, actually, bore the brunt of it. I just happened to be there.”
Regenfall understood completely, and showcased this with another, reciprocal nod of assurance.
“Indeed. Your unit has been distinguishing itself during the entire course of the war. I must say, I’m most impressed with the Sixth Infantry. You lot have distinguished yourself many times so far!”
Schnee could definitely talk about the accomplishments of her division:
“My division is like family to me. They are… one of a kind,” Schnee smiled truly and genuinely for the first time, reminiscing about them.
Part of her wished she was back with them at the front. They understood her better than most civilians did by this point.
“Speaking of family,” the Kaiserin added. “I’m sure yours must be incredibly proud of you, and for everything you’ve done for our nation.”
Schnee’s face sullied, if only briefly as she averted her gaze to the left. The pattern of the hardwood floor was suddenly quite interesting.
“Perhaps… perhaps not,” she noted.
Regenfall cocked her head.
“Would your family not hold you to great esteem for your actions?”
Schneeblume resolutely shook her head.
“No, Your Majesty. Likely not anymore, at least…” she solemnly stated.
Regenfall watched Schnee for a few tense seconds, but decided not to pursue the matter further. Perhaps she realized that this was a sensitive subject for her, and instead moved onto something else after clearing her throat.
“Either way, Schneeblume, you were the catalyst for us clinching victory out of the jaws of defeat. And while your entire division will indeed be rewarded, I feel you deserve something… a little more tailored to your efforts…”
Schneeblume looked on as the Kaiserin fished something from one of her many uniform pockets, finally finding what she was looking for.
“I was also made to understand that you’re not one for large, ceremonious crowds. Which is why I felt this the best way to give this to you.”
Regenfall placed a small jewelry box on the table—it had square dimensions of a few inches on either side. It was also decorated with the national flag atop of the piece that Schnee was supposed to lift off.
She slid it to Schnee’s side of the table, and looked on with a motherly smile.
“For you, noble warrior.”
Schnee gazed down at the box in front of her, and then flicked her eyes back up to Regenfall, who was excitedly urging Schneeblume to open the box by virtue of her hooves.
Heeding her leader’s urgencies, Schneeblume did just that. Her clean hooves made contact with the top of the velvety little box and gingerly pulled the top away. Schnee’s eyes widened and reflected all the sparkling light of the medal that lay inside.
Cushioned within, was a perfectly sculpted, golden medal of the Eagle’s War Cross. The golden Alemaneian Eagle cradled the National Alemaneian Cross in its talloned grasp. All of this was studded with beautiful sapphires on the perimeter of the ‘wreath’ as it were.
Alemaneia’s highest honor.
It was beautiful.
Regenfall placed her hoof in the box and lifted up, revealing that it was attached to a sash that was supposed to go around her neck.
“May I?” the Kaiserin inquired, and Schnee knew exactly what she meant.
“O-Of course, my Queen.”
With that, they both stood up from their chairs and got to their hooves. Schneeblume stood straight and at attention as Regenfall—with medal in her right hoof—stood in front of of her. She then spread out the sash and placed it over Schnee’s head, and tightened it around her neck.
Standing back from her handiwork, Schneeblume’s chest was now adorned with the greatest war medal that Alemaneia could bestow. And it shimmered in what little light made its way from the outside of the palace.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Regenfall then saluted Schneeblume once more, to which the soldier returned the gesture in earnest.
However, the Kaiserin noticed something that Schnee was trying to keep buried:
“You don’t seem as happy as I’d have expected to earn such an honor… is something wrong?” she asked.
There was little point in Schnee lying to her head of state, so she figured she would come clean:
“Your Highness, may I speak freely?”
Regenfall smiled invitingly.
“By all means, soldier. We are equals today.”
Schnee took the words to heart and spoke hers, if a bit jumbled as her thoughts ran through her mind at a million miles an hour:
“Please don’t misunderstand my concerns for… I mean… I would die for my country countless times. I… I don’t feel overjoyed to have earned the nation’s highest honor for taking part in, and aiding in the killing of countless Prench… and Anglomane ponies.”
Regenfall stood there silently for a couple of seconds before smirking… then chuckling.
“My beautiful warrior… that’s not true at all.”
Schneeblume cocked her head, which gave the Kaiserin her cue to continue.
Regenfall closed the distance between the two of them, perhaps a little more than what Schneeblume would have been comfortable with.
“My armies do not ‘kill ponies,’ as you say…” she stated in such a way that made Schnee’s assertions sound utterly ridiculous.
She didn’t have time to reflect on this, however, as for the first time, Regenfall’s face darkened under her natural, commanding stoicism.
“...they simply annihilate the enemy. And leave nothing of them to remember.”
“Did she actually say that?” Tea Leaf cut in incredulously.
Each of the Crusaders had their own choice of words for reaction:
“Seriously…?” Sweetie Belle deadpanned.
“Wow… that’s just sad…” Apple Bloom asserted.
“Sheesh…” Scootaloo’s features contorted almost uncomfortably. “At least she wasn’t shy about it.”
Schneeblume nodded.
“And that’s when I realized that the leader whom ‘related’ so much to us… was merely another military leader,” she said, then sipped her drink.
“I would not go so far as to call her a ‘tyrant,’ but any respect I had for her diminished greatly after she uttered those words… you see, there are many ways to go about motivating your soldiers,” she continued.
“But one of the worst—yet ironically most effective—ways to do that is to de-equinize the enemy.”
Sweetie Belle bade her to continue:
“Oh?”
“Ja,” Schnee confirmed. “What better way to galvanize your troops than to proclaim that they’re not fighting other ponies… but beasts. Vermin not worth your time, nor your compassion.
“There is a reason the term ‘Allied Hordes’ became popular on the front.”
Apple Bloom raised her hoof.
“What happened to Regenfall after the war?”
Schneeblume nodded in familiarity:
“Ahh, right. Well, she abdicated almost immediately once the Seele Offensive ended and the war was declared over. She dissolved the Imperial government, called for immediate elections, released almost all of her assets to the new government to help rebuild, and then… she left.”
Tea Leaf cut in again:
“Wait, you’re saying she just up and buggered off?”
“Indeed,” Schneeblume affirmed. “After signing over most of her family fortune, she took whatever she had left to her name, put on some civilian clothes, and just… went away. She gave one last speech to what was her Empire, explaining her decision, expressing her remorse for the goings of the War, and then went into self-imposed exile.”
Schnee shrugged as she stared off into the distance momentarily:
“Where she wanders now… I couldn’t tell you. Wherever she is, Regenfall is keeping a low profile and, knowing her, likely not getting much sleep.”
Something else, however, seemed to be weighing on Scootaloo’s mind, and she decided to finally make that known, raising her hoof to garner attention:
“Schnee? I’ve got a question.”
All eyes were on here, and the Flower Mare smiled lovingly:
“Of course!”
“What did you mean when you said that your family wouldn’t be proud of you?”
The entire room went quiet and all attention was back on Schneeblume, who stared at Scootaloo with a diagonal slant of a smirk… one that conveyed expectation.
“You of all ponies would be the one to ask some of the more… profound questions. Given our history together I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she surmised with a chuckle.
Scootaloo drooped her head knowingly, but took no offense to that comment. All ponies in the room knew exactly what she meant by that. It was her doing and suspicion that made sure all of them in this room were friends, after all.
Schnee took another breath as she marshalled her thoughts, and then spoke anew:
“I guess you all would need to understand my family dynamic…” she said, and locked eyes one at a time with everypony in the room as she continued to talk:
“My mother died when I was six… which devastated my father. I’m still actually not sure how she died, to be honest. It was always kept from me to… spare me I guess? I have no siblings and my father never remarried.
“When my father was sixteen, he lied about his age and enlisted in the West Alemaneian Army before my country was united to fight the Prench in the last war. He saw… things during that short but terrible conflict that he never told me of. He rarely spoke of it.
“But, he always told me after I was born that he forbade me to join the Alemanian Army. And he reminded me of this every time the general recruiting drives came around my town. I had a very special bond with Papa, so I always took heed. Besides, I wanted to do something else with my life.”
Schneeblume took a small break and brought the lip of her teacup to her mouth. She gently slurped her preferred elixir as she maintained all attention on her.
After she sighed out blissfully, her stoicism returned.
“Then, the Equidae War broke out. Right when I turned eighteen.”
Sweetie Belle nodded in understanding as she was clearly rationalizing things in her head, but Tea Leaf decided to weigh in with some quintessential wit:
“Happy birthday to you, aye?”
Schnee huffed humorously, if mirthfully.
“Ja, right?” she said. “But I remember vividly hearing the Kaiserin’s speech over the public radio when I was out with friends. She was so proud! So… perfect were her words that she managed to me the prospect of war so appealing.
“The call to arms had been made. Volunteers enlisted by the tens of thousands. The promise of glory, travel, and the settling of old rivalries with the Prench and the Anglomanes proved to whet everypony’s appetite…”
Her next words were quite sarcastic as she parroted the rhetoric:
“Even mine. The Prench were weak. The Anglomanes just as much. It would be a walk. We’d steamroll them... drive a wedge between the two countries and end the short conflict with us being the dominant party on the continent.
“We all know how wrong we all were…” she duly noted.
“...but I made a mistake I couldn’t hope to avoid: I went home. In full recruit uniform before I was to report to basic training within three weeks. I came home thinking that my father, despite years of him opposing me joining the military would understand. He heard the Kaiserin’s speech too! She needed us.”
Schneeblume shook her head as she lamented.
“I had never been more wrong in my entire life so many times in such a short timespan.”
Sweetie Belle simply bade her on:
“What happened then?”
“He did hear the speech. I walked through the door, and I had never seen him go from looking at me with love… to sheer disgust.
“He screamed at me. Called me all kinds of names that no father should ever call their only daughters. I remember sitting on my haunches, pathetically watching him berate me as I cried and tarnished my new uniform.
“I tried to argue with him and get him to see reason. But in his explosive reaction… he would have none of it.
“He…” Schneeblume had to stop for a moment and purse her lips, exhaling to control her emotions.
“With tears in his eyes, he told me to gather what I needed and to leave. And that while I was a soldier for Alemaneia, I would not be his daughter.”
Jaws bounced on the floor, but Apple Bloom projected the most horror:
“He… He disowned you?”
Schneeblume nodded ruefully.
“So it would seem. Sobbing, I gathered all I needed, and stayed at a friends’ house until my classmates and I deployed.
“And that begins my journey through the war, in a sense. I haven’t spoken to him since.”
Scootaloo spoke up again:
“Not even when the war ended? You never went back before you came here? What about when you went back to Alemaneia?”
Schnee shook her head.
“No. I thought about trying to amend things since I was no longer a soldier… but, with the scars and the loss of my hoof,” she dangled her porcelain prosthetic for reference.
“I… Returning to Alemaneia sapped all my will. I just had no more courage. I couldn’t face him in my state. Now, it’s been almost eight years since I’ve seen him, and what he feared would happen to me during the war… happened.”
Her voice became shakier, and eyes misty.
“That is, I left as his daughter. And I would return as something… broken. Not as I left. I couldn’t bear to have him ‘disown’ me a second time after the scars of Seele Plains especially were so fresh,” she reasoned.
Sweetie Belle smiled warmly.
“Well… you’ve grown, matured, and healed a lot since then. Maybe it’s time?” she put forth.
Schneeblume had usually been quite receptive to the ‘suggestions’ that the Crusaders had put forth, as they all helped her on her path to feeling whole again after the horrors of the Great War.
But this time, she was a little more reticent.
“I… I just don’t know, girls.”
At the mention of the word ‘time’ however, Apple Bloom stole a glance at the clock… and was not particularly happy with what she saw.
“Darn it all… Ah’m sorry girls, but I need tah get home. Applejack’s gonna kill me if I forget about the west orchard again,” she revealed.
Everypony else took their own look at the clock. Afternoon was fast on its way to evening, and groans were aplenty from the Crusaders.
“Yeah, I should probably head back to the Boutique,” Sweetie Belle admitted. “Rarity did need my help with something.”
Scootaloo appeared to be in a similar situation.
“Yeah, same,” she said, moving to extricate herself from the sofa. “The ‘rents will get mad at me if I don’t do my chores… again,” she added.
“Perhaps we should all retire for the rest of the evening, then?” Tea Leaf said.
Schneeblume smiled at the three Crusaders and nodded deeply. They would all probably see each other the next day, or within the next couple of days if their habits for the last few years were anything to go by.
“Of course, girls!” she replied jovially. “Come and go as you please, my dears. My home is your home,” Schnee further reminded.
The three Crusaders got to their hooves and began to make their way towards the front door.
“Thanks for another story, Schnee!” Sweetie Belle called out over her shoulder, but before the three of them could all bid their farewells and exit, the teenage mare turned to face Schnee and Tea as they walked out.
“And don’t worry… I think you’d do great if you went back to see your father. I honestly think he’d love to see you… or at least know what happened to you,” she threw in her two bits.
Schneeblume smiled and averted her gaze a smidge. The girls really did have so much confidence in her that she rarely had in herself.
“The pleasure is all mine… and they help me more! And I’ll bear that in mind, meine Lieben. Now run along. I’ll see you all…?”
“Tomorrow!” Apple Bloom called out as they finally made their way out of Schnee’s house.
Scootaloo completed their curtain call with a wide-smiled:
“See ya!”
And the front door was closed behind them.
Schneeblume sighed out blissfully and got to her own hooves, ready to make her way towards her kitchen.
“Ahh, those girls… I don’t know what I’d do, or have done without them,” she voiced. Then called back over to Tea Leaf, who had also gotten to his hooves:
“Would you like anything else to drink before you leave?”
Tea shook his head.
“No thank you, Schnee. However, you do know those girls are right on the money, right?”
Schnee again sighed as she turned around. This time not so blissfully. She looked upon Tea with measurable conflict vividly seen through her eyes.
“I know but… they’re just teenagers. Teenagers with wonderful families who love them and with hearts of gold. They wouldn’t understand, Tea…”
Tea Leaf smirked and said incredulously:
“After all this time with them, all they have managed to help in bettering yourself… after all the horrors you’ve conveyed to them, you feel this is something they’d have trouble understanding?”
Schnee was caught red-hoofed, and her reddening cheeks projected this wonderfully.
“That’s—that’s not what I… ugh,” she grumbled, her brow furrowed. “I’m just…”
She shook her head and pawed at the hardwood floor.
“I’m scared… I can’t lose my father again. Not like eight years ago. It’s honestly better if he doesn’t even know I’m here. Maybe he thinks I died in the war. Perhaps that’s for the better,” she suggested.
Nopony was convinced of that.
“I don’t believe that last part for a second,” Tea Leaf declared with a small, sympathetic chuckle. He walked softly over to the conflicted mare.
“And it’s okay to be afraid. You don’t know how many veterans have trouble coming back to their own families who undoubtedly want to see them.
“And honestly?” he added, cupping Schnee’s cheek and drawing her gaze up at him.
“I think it would do well for him to see you. For both of you, regardless of what happens. You right lion, you… if you can survive Tartarus on Earth, then mate, I think you can wrangle with your old chap again.”
Schnee had one last card of uncertainty to play, however:
“I don’t even know if he even still lives.”
Tea shrugged.
“Oh I think he still does. A soldier like him will fight old age like the enemy, especially if he was as young as you say he was when he served. And even if he wasn’t living anymore, would you not care to know?”
Schnee did have to concede that point. Perhaps she kept letting her fears and nightmares get the better of her again.
“True… but, I’d rather not go alone,” she said, and looked off to the side. “Would… would you come with me?” she offered.
Tea Leaf smiled softly, honor welling up within him at Schnee’s offer.
“I would love to… but, I can’t,” he said.
Schneeblume cocked her head as he stepped back a tad.
“Why not, if I may?”
And in a surprise to her, Tea had a rather simple answer:
“Because if we go to Alemaneia, I’d rather not stoke fresh tensions as an Anglomane with my presence. Further, if we go, I’d feel like, as a soldier, I’d have to visit Seele with you, since I served there, too…
...and...” he added much more softly, visible anguish in his eyes.
“I’m not brave enough to face those scars of mine, at least yet. But the day I am, I’d love to come with you. But, I think those young mares out there...” he gestured outside the door. “...would make excellent company.”
Schneeblume nodded, and her soft smile mirrored that of Tea’s.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything else before you depart?” the Flower Mare asked.
Tea smiled warmly and shook his head. He then placed his hat atop his noggin with his wooden hoof.
“I’m quite alright, actually, thank you. But perhaps I’ll take you up on that next time we meet?” he asked with that distinctive upward curl of the right side of his mouth.
Schnee knew exactly what he meant, which would be the next time the two of them would meet over lunch. Likely the next day or the day after that.
The porcelain-coated mare mirrored his knowing smile, and her lavender eyes sparkled in the light of the cloudy afternoon.
“Of course!”
Tea closed the distance and brought Schnee into a tight, meaningful hug… one which the former stormtrooper eagerly accepted. The two former soldiers relished in each other’s embrace and shuttered their eyes as they allowed themselves to only feel each other’s presence.
Two former enemies on the battlefield.
Now, lifelong friends.
“See you later, My Enemy,” Tea bade Schnee farewell with traditional Anglomane snark.
However, this had become standard between the two of them. An understanding of where they were and where they stood.
Once they separated, Schnee returned his farewell to her with her own, and her own challenging smirk to boot:
“Auf wiedersehen, Feind.”
And with that, Tea tilted his hat forward, made his way out of Schnee’s domain, and shut the door behind him.
The Flower Mare was alone once more, with nopony but herself and her own thoughts as company. Admittedly, said thoughts had become much more welcome company over the years, and she could think freely on the more… difficult subjects of her life without being rendered a useless puddle of anxiety.
Well, the grand majority of the time at least.
But with Schneeblume being alone, she ran her ceramic hoof through her long, flowing, jet black mane, and noticed a few split ends in her peripheral vision.
She really needed a mane cut.
But, the thoughts of her father took precedent at the moment.
What should have been some casual mentioning in passing during her story of meeting the Kaiserin turned into a whole new ordeal entirely. It was true what the girls had mentioned, though… this was probably one of the last, unresolved, major issues with her life.
The scars of the war would always remain… but she didn’t have to be the de-facto last of her family anymore.
She thought on the last time she saw her father. How disappointed and enraged his features were. It would forever be ingrained in her mind… but the next step would be—should she meet him again—how would she do it?
Schneeblume wandered into her room, and was about to opt for a late-day nap… but she caught sight of a special chest at the edge of her vision:
Her war chest… the one that touched off all the more recent events of the last few years.
An odd sense of curiosity and nostalgia washed over her… and her hollow hoofsteps made their way over to her closet. With the aid of her mouth, she yanked the chest out into the middle of her room, then unceremoniously threw the top open.
The first of many things that greeted her was her helmet.
That sloped, steel assault helmet that was the hallmark of the deadly stormtroopers of the Southern front during the war. The woodland camouflage remained painted on, save for the dents, the scrapes, the scratches, and the chippings that wore the metal over time.
A perfect representation of her.
Schneeblume scooped her hoof by way of long-ingrained reflex under the brim of her helmet and brought it up to eye level. She examined the very thing that had been responsible for saving her life on so many occasions and regarded it with a warm fondness…
...and more than measurable pain.
And as she sat on the edge of her pristinely-made bed, she continued to cradle the object of her affection as her stare zoned off…
...as the remorse toward her father welled up within her at how he would possibly react seeing her as she currently was….
...wounded.
Unfamiliar.
Broken.
She shook that out of her head.
No.
Schnee resented that thought immediately. With the help of the Crusaders she was no longer broken.
Not anymore.
A single tear splashed down on the face of her helmet, and she blinked away a couple more when she realized that she had been shedding them.
Schneeblume sniffled once and wiped her face, if a bit shamefully…
...but realized that she had nopony to worry about but her own at the moment. Shame meant nothing to her after all she had been through and all she had done.
So as she let the sniffles come easier, and let her cries silently echo in her room, the former soldier had decided that she would return to Alemaneia to see her father, and do her best to mend ties with the only living family she had left.
She wanted that little nagging, unforgiving hole in her heart to hopefully stop hurting so much.
But even more than that, she missed her dad.
