Tell Me a Bedtime Story

by LoonyMoony

Rating: teen
Tags: Alternate Universe, Human, Sad, Princess Luna, Original Character, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Violence, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death
Length: 13821

A war story between the race of man and pony. As told from the perspective of an aging scholar.

Under the glow of a Hearths Warmming fire two creatures sat. An odd picture they were, one old and sat up on an armchair, the other not but a young lavender filly, sprawled out on the floor. But stories don’t care who tells them, and that night many a story was told. This one, in particular, would stand out as important to the would be princess, at least later in her life. And as such I will tell it here. A recount of the only, and mercifully brief, human/ equestrian war that history would see fit to curse us with. And all the lessons we learned from it. As told from the perspective of an aging scholar and a curious young unicorn.

Published 2018-12-17 04:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-12-17 04:50:01 UTC

Tell Me a Bedtime Story

Author's Note

Fun fact, during one particularly productive night of writing this story, I was able to put out about five thousand words. This was done over the period of about five hours, and I was incredibly happy with myself upon completion. That was, at-least, until I accidentally deleted it all and had to rewrite it. In my opinion it turned out better the second time around so I guess some blessings come in disguise.

And before I let you read the story there is one more thing. I slapped a LOTR reference in here for the more attentive among you, Can you spot it?!?!

Tell Me a Bedtime Story

“I don’t want to read her a bedtime story,” said a stallion, grey with age. “Its late and I’m tired, I don’t have time for this, princess.”

“She thinks the world of you, Autumn, it would mean a lot to her.”

The day was late, well beyond moonrise. And in the hearth burned a hearty fire, one that gave the room a cozy feeling. Her chambers were incredibly comfortable to begin with. In-fact, Autumn Quill loved to visit the princess. But this time things were different. The mare is a master manipulator, he thought, don’t let these petty tricks throw you off!.

“Its hearths warming eve, have some fun,” a gentle smile graced Celestia's lips, “I promise you will not regret it.”

“Oh?” Said he, in a sarcastic tone.

“Twilight can get,” she scrunched her face, “exited.” The smile returned, “It's terribly adorable, really, and you could use the company.”

“I don't like kids they break things,” he huffed.

“I assure you, Twilight is not like most fillies,” she lit up her horn and the fire crackled, “I would venture to say she’s tidier than you.”

“Excuse me!” He gasped, “I am the keeper of the Canterlot archives!”

“That you are.”

“I have written and published over twenty-seven informational works!”

“Twilight has written six,” a hearty chuckle, “though she has yet to publish them.”

“I am the head Librarian!”

“And she,” a joyous smile,” is after your job.”

His tone grew wary,” r… really?”

Celestia burst into laughter, “No! My dear friend, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re the best I’ve seen in a century. And while I know she admires you,” she lifted his downcast chin, “I don’t think she’ll be stealing your work.” She backed away from him, and the crackling of burning wood filled the room once again as she lit her horn. Walking to the fireplace Celestia stared into the flames, ”I know this year has been hard on you,” her tone was more serious, and Autumn seemed to droop a little. “What with your son… I think it would be good for you.” She looked out the window, towards her sister's vacant tower. From his place in her chambers, Autumn could see the empty balcony. He had visited the Lunar quarters before. And having never been occupied, they had always slightly unnerved him. “You’ve done nothing but read and work since he died. I want to see you smile again,” she turned towards him, a light expression on her face. ”So you are going to read her a story, and it is happening tonight.”

There was a moment of quiet as the stallion considered what she had said. Then his expression lifted a little and he spoke, “Fine, but I get to chose the story.”

Celestia eyed him warily, “Do not scare her.”

“Yes yes!” The scholar fussed, “I’m old, not evil.” He took a moment to think, then smiled, “How about the one with the humans?”

“Don’t you think it's a bit long?” She queried.

“Well,” he scratched his chin, “if you say she’s special, I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

Celestia smiled, “Very well. In that case, I would get going. Do you know where twilights' room is?”

“Oh yes, I hear her every morning when I go to the library. She paces, you know?” He walked to the door and opened it.

“I know, Twilight could learn a thing or two from you. So be kind.” The goddess slouched down into an armchair behind her ageless desk, “And merry hearths warming, Autumn Quill.”

“Merry hearths warming, princess, and goodnight.”

~Twilights chambers~

On the fifth floor of the main canterlot keep, sat a room. It was humbly small, only big enough to serve as sleeping quarters, but twilight sparkle loved it. To her, it represented an achievement. To become the personal student of the princess is no easy feat. But despite herself, The lavender filly had yet to really move into the place. Sure she slept on the bed and read from the bookshelves. But the charm of home still eluded her, and she sometimes found herself wishing for her old house and bed. She knew, of course, time would remedy this ailment, that is why she had elected to spend hearths warming eve here. To make some memories, she thought. In fact, it was part of the ‘Integration into the castle of the princess without freaking out’ checklist.

On this particular night, she was sitting on her bed and reading by the light of a particularly useful illumination spell. A fire would have been better, but Princess Celestia wouldn’t let her light one without an adult present. Not after her incident with the gardens. This didn’t really bother her, even though she loved to read by the fire. Twilight trusted the princess enough to respect her decisions. So she sat, alone, in her quarters. The night had not turned out how she would have liked. It was already nine o’clock. And she was feeling lonely. It would seem that this night was no diffrent than any other.

Then something unexpected happened, a knock at her door. She scrunched her face in confusion, maybe the guards?

“It's unlocked,” she called. And the door opened. Beyond its frame twilight couldn’t see much. It was far too dark for her unprepared eyes, but she could make out the silhouette of a stallion. “Hello? Shiny?” she was beginning to smile.

“I am afraid not, miss sparkle. Actually, my name is Autumn Quill. Uh, may I come in?” The stallion answered.

Her jaw hit the floor, and her mind began to race. OHMYCELESTIATHISCANTBEHAPPENING, she panicked. “Uh… uh, yes... pleasecomein,” she squeaked.

“Thank you, miss sparkle,” from the doorway the silhouette advanced, closing the passage and removing his saddlebags. “Um… do you mind if I get a fire going.”

Twilight was just staring at him. Autumn Quill, her current fixation. He was her hero. Having singlehandedly devised the organizational system used by the canterlot archives, and personally overseeing their maintenance, twilight held him in high esteem. And now he was in her room, putting a fire on.

“Um, can I help you?” She said, putting a hoof on her cheek in an effort to look relaxed.

“Actually I was hoping you might like to spend the evening together, seeing as we are the only two ponies left in the castle who don’t have toilets to clean. Everypony else has gone home for the holidays.”

At that, Twilights pupils shrunk, and her left eye began to twitch. ‘This must be a test’, she thought, ‘a super awesome heavenly test’. From her gritting teeth, she breathed, “okay.”

"Wonderful,” he stopped fiddling with the fire and looked towards her, “would you mind giving me a hoof?”

Twilight jumped off her bed and walked over to the fire, “what's wrong?” The room was still dark, and now that she wasn’t surrounded with blankets the little filly was beginning to grow cold.

“Can you light it? Celestia speaks very highly of you so I figured I might give you a cha-“

A spark of magic, a quiet yelp of surprise, and the fire was blazing in the hearth. Below him, bathed in the flickering firelight, Autumn could see the little filly, beaming manically up towards him.

“How was that!?”

“Oh,” he was still trying to get his heart rate under control. Nearly gave me a heart attack he thought. “That’ll do, well done.”

At his praise, the little filly beamed and started jumping up and down, “Thanks! Honestly, when I first tried that spell I almost burnt down the gardens but now I’m really good at it, watch!” And with that, she began putting out and reigniting the flames in rapid succession. All the while giving him that ear to ear smile.

Creepy, he shivered.

To the old stallion, this was all very strange. He was a unicorn, sure, and the magic he saw before him was well within his own skills. But still, she was so young. She was still jumping in circles, literally playing with fire, when the stallion spoke up. “I think that's enough, Twilight. Why don’t you take a seat, I want to read you something.”

At the mention of the word ‘read’ she froze, “oooh what is it? Advanced musical theory? Pony anatomy? Oh! Maybe even a book on magical dynamics!”

She had resumed jumping, though this time much faster. In fact, she was almost vibrating when he spoke, “Oh no its none of that. No, as I’m sure you know I work in the Canterlot archives.”

“Yes, you’ve been working there for forty-seven years, nine months, and seven days!” She gave him that grin again, and it truly unnerved the stallion.

“Yes, well then you will know I have access to a large collection of historical texts.”

“Yes,” Twilight cocked her head to the side, “what is that?”

From his saddlebags, the stallion had pulled a dusty old tome. The pages were yellowed and its edges were frayed. “This,” he began, “is one of the oldest books in our collection.”

Twilight seemed to have a stroke. “H… how old is it?” She was eyeing the book hungrily, causing the stallion to pull it back a little.

“Right now it's about fourteen thousand years old.” He was waving the book in the air. And twilight was following it with her gaze as he did so, almost like a cat. He rallied himself and continued, “and the stories it tells happened much longer ago.”

She hummed happily, “can I have it?”

“What?! No! the number of strings I had to pull to get it out.” He put a hoof to his head, “no you cannot have it. Instead, I would like to read you one of its stories.”

“Okay!” Before he realized it twilight was curled up in front of the fire. “You can sit in the chair!”

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this, he thought. Autumn walked over to the fluffy armchair that sat by the fire. With his tome locked firmly in his magic, he took a seat and cracked it open. In front of him he could see the cozy fire, flickering ever so gently. And Twilight, practically squirming with excitement. “Right well, lets clear something up here. This book,” he gently shook the tome in his magic, “is written from the perspective of a human man, back when they used to roam Equestria. So when I read ‘we’ or ‘us’ I’m referring to the humans, understand?” The only response he got was an enthusiastic nod. Well at least she knows how to listen, he mused.

The stallion cleared his throat and began to speak. “To suggest that this story has a beginning would be a horrid misrepresentation of the truth of it. As, all things considered, our thoughts are turning towards the action a bit late in the cycle of our ever so vast and mysterious universe. Unfortunately with so many stories to tell and so little time to tell them I’m afraid I would be distraught to but convey to you this one tale. But in its infinite complexity and wonder, we are required to find a starting point of some sort or the other. Thus I will begin the recapitulation of our fantasy at what I would assume to be the most logical position, and I suppose that would have the be none other than the beginning.”

~

Human beings. That’s it. They are fickle and aggressive, unintelligent and all around dirty creatures. For a millennium they were kept as pets by the equestrian population, under the rule of the royal diarchy. This diarchy, of course, would be none other than our very own regal Princess’s Celestia and Luna. In fact, they had been in power quite some time by this point.

Their decision to allow such a foreign and outright strange creature to be kept by the general population as nothing more than a plaything came from one decisive truth. In Equestria humans were, in neither shape or form, sapient. To them, we are as cute, cuddly, lovable and stupid as our very own dogs and cats. They treated these ‘proto-humans’ under similar conditions to our animals, some slept outside some ate from a bowl. In extreme cases, those in which the owners were especially cruel, they were made to fight for the amusement of others.

I, like you, have trouble picturing such a sight. A six-foot man? Tall and muscular, bending over to drink from a metal bowl? And at the whim to a half-pint little horse? However strange it sounds I assure you it was the truth. But you are not here to listen to me muse on about the life of Equestria before the war, so let's get back on topic.

The real problem started with one man and an absurd amount of bad luck. What his name was, has long since passed into mystery, but, I digress. This poor fellow was born as a mute. From his birth, he was incapable of making any sound other than that of a grunt. Now by itself that doesn’t seem so bad, but our dear friend still had a long life ahead of him and was thereby given much more time to royally cock things up! His voice never matured, as some cases might have done, with age. And as one might have expected the only noises he was capable of making, throughout the rest of his life, was that of animalistic grunts and low hissing sounds.

Do you see where this is going?

This poor idiot somehow managed to find himself stranded and alone in the middle of Equestria's very own Canterlot. A very much different dimension to ours, mind you! And completely incapable of distinguishing himself from the masses as an intelligent creature. He tried to communicate with them, he tried his damnedest, but he couldn’t talk. Time after time he tried to sign or write or bang his head on the floor in morse code. Luck would have it, however, that never was a quill insight when the parchment was in reach. And at no time were there any ponies literate in the secret art of Morse code. Let alone sign language.

“Look at this one!,” they would say,” He’s doing a funny dance!”

And that was the worst of it. They spoke English! So close was his salvation at hand yet so far away, almost as if he was being taunted. He never gave up but was merely ignored by the ponies that held him, unbeknown to them, captive. Eventually, the system moved ever on and Our poor hero was sold into a hellish environment, not before being neutered. A sapient human man neutered! And that was just the beginning. The horrors he experienced at the hands of the ponies he lived under are not pleasant to describe and as such I will not describe them here, but rest assured he had reason plenty to hate them all in the end.

Before I continue its important to note that clearly not all equestrians were like the owners of our dear… er… man? Boy? Most were actually very kind and inviting folk! loving and accepting of all shapes of creatures and their cultures. In fact, it is in this aspect that they surpassed, in great strides, the humans of Mother Earth. Ponies were and are a peaceful race. Due in part to their status on the food chain, that being the top. But also by nature, they are by no means predators and would much prefer to hash-out their differences out over a cup of fine wine. Not by the edge of a blade. Regardless of how bizarre their disputants view might happen to be. Not to say they haven’t had their fair share of warfare. Oh no, they earned their status let me tell you that. But, here I go again.

Our great unlucky hero was in his 7th year of multicolored hell when he finally managed to escape his captors. With nothing but a chain link collar and his very very, emaciated body, he flew. Into the wilds, he went, far and wide through mountains halls and hills. He ran a great many miles and learned a great many things, none of which helping to ease his opinion of the ponies.

Now, His adventures are a different piece of cake entirely so ill just have to give you the gist. This poor man spent the better part of his life hiding from the Equestrians, believing them all to be a horrible and tormented race. And really who could blame him? He had no exposure but that which cemented his own beliefs. And he certainly did not seek the company of ponies anymore than was absolutely necessary, thereby crippling his chances of a positive encounter. He spent so much time avoiding them that, through complete chance, He ended up in the worst possible location for an ill-informed and abused mind. He landed in the home state of the griffons.

Now lets again remember that oh so nasty history of the griffons. Much like humans they seek above all else, power. The fools, too preoccupied with that nasty business, never stopped long enough to understand that they were the apex predator! At least biologically speaking. Such is there curse that they will always want for that which they either already have or will never possess.

Now, they were a hard race, tough and honorable. I’ll give them that. But they lacked the ability to work together, always squabbling over one thing or the other. Childs play! And it was through this enervation that they were many times defeated by the ponies of Equestria. Through one way or the other, they had always managed to beat back the griffon hoards. And oh, how the griffons despised them for it! They saw the ponies as a weak race, blaming their losses on the great goddess’s that ruled over them and not the actual fighting prowess of the individual pony. And that is not entirely untrue, by themselves the ponies of Equestria are not an overtly threatening force. It is only with the power of their illustrious rulers that they really begin the shine out among the masses. For, as I have said, ponies don’t like to fight. And as such are not all that good at it.

Now our dear friend has landed in the home of the griffons, which at the time was known as Griffonstone, with a great hatred of the ponies. Having learned to communicate without the use of the spoken word, he was easily able to inform the griffons of his intelligence. At first nothing but puzzled expressions and disbelief. Try to imagine, for a moment, a dog standing on its hind legs, assuring you without a shadow of a doubt that it was, in fact, able to think and feel. This would give you a good idea of what the griffons were feeling. Like they were seeing something that was not supposed to exist. Now humans of course do not eat dogs so it is a bit of a fractured analogy. But anyway, back to the story.

They did not keep humans as pets but instead, and much to the disgust of the rest of the world, ate them. What with humans being very rare up in the mountains they were a sort of delicacy. And griffons pounced on any occasion to upset the ponies of their southern border. However, and despite what some ponies would have to say, griffons are not savages. So, they welcomed him with open arms, treating him as a brother of their kind. Truly they just wanted someone else to be angry with. And our dear protagonist was more than happy to oblige.

At first, they spoke of the demeanor of the ponies. And how they despised the weakness of the high-class nobles.

“Weak! n’t got no spine! ifn you ask me!’”

Then they moaned of the magic the ponies held. And how its effect on the world was only, from the perspective of the griffons, negative.

“Tain’t natural, not one bit!”

Eventually, the griffons of Griffonstone would begin to curse the ponies, in all forms.

“They dn't deserve to live! Abominations! The lot of em! humiliated uz fr the last time, I say!”

So it was that the lions of the north began the buildup to their cyclical and bloody war. Calling to arms the many banner-men and shield-maidens of their frozen northern halls. It was in the chaos of the griffon hoards preparing their march south that our protagonist met his first real friendly face since he had been transported to Equestria all those long years ago.

I do remember his name. It, however strange and inconvenient of the written word, was Ongendus Gestalt II. A somewhat common first name at the time, though thankfully not anymore. Dearest Gestalt, like most things I have mentioned in this story, has a long list of exposition attached to his title. He fought in the first great pony-griffon war and even studied under Princess Celestia herself (for a short time at least). And like most things I have mentioned in this story I, unfortunately, do not have the time of day to tell you all about him. All you need to know about this particular griffon is his intellectual prowess. And it was brimming! He was arguably the most significant scholar that Griffonstone ever produced. Even when compared to Gilda the great, in her later years that is.

So when our castrated companion finally met Gestalt, they became instant friends. Together they did some great things, both for good and for bad. Legends tell of the perils these two managed to fall into. And the myths tell of the adventures in kind. Close they grew. And, towards the end, one would have surely given their own life for the other. Through battle, they became blood brothers, and at home, they devloped the dearest of friendships. But even the greatest things must, with the passing of eternal time, come to an end.

Gestalt was unsatisfied with his life. He was an aging griffon, by that times standards, and wanted more. Above all, he yearned for knowledge and wished for the times that he spent in the tutelage of Princess Celestia. So it was that his desires eventually came to fruition, and he made for the kingdom of Equestria. This, as you might have imagined, was not at all a pleasant projection for his dear friend. He begged Gestalt not to travel to Canterlot (which at the time was merely a large town), citing his suffering under the rule of the ponies. And Gestalt would beg his brother in arms to join him in his journeys, citing the freedom that knowledge could grant him. But he was not able to overcome his fears, despite Gestalts own wishes, and decided to stay behind in Griffonstone. So He said his goodbyes. And only when there were none to watch, wept his pain away.

He missed his only friend, dearly. And worried for him daily. Three months went by, and they spent those months conversing by letter to one another. Gestalt spoke of the supreme beauty that ponies had built into their cities, and always he wished for his friend's company. Had things progressed that way for much longer, perhaps the unnamed hero would have swayed his views. If ever there was a creature who could have changed his mind, it would have been Gestalt. But, his is not a happy story.

One day, the letters stopped.

How his dearest friend had died is a matter of debate. Some would say that he was caught in a blizzard in transit back home, some that Celestial loyalist had hunted him down and took his life. Others still would claim that Celestia herself was the one to do the deed (though I highly doubt the validity of that one). whatever the real cause of death doesn’t matter. The only thing we know for sure is the ramifications of that great creature's untimely departure. Not only did it spring a new war into action (as Gestalt was a close friend to the king, despite his distaste for nobility) but it also gave asylum to a new kind of malice in our dear friend's heart. One that would be the catalyst for his revenge.

It was the last straw. Since he had arrived in Equestria, everything had been taken from him. His manhood, his pride, and when he had managed to find refuge from it all, that was taken too. He saw only one solution, and that was war. Now, Gestalts friend here was not stupid. He had spent a lifetime of hardships developing his mind. He understood that the Griffons did not possess the power necessary to unmake the ponies of Equestria. So he sought another path.

He spent years in solitude, books and old tomes were his only companions. Trying desperately to open a portal home. It took him fifteen years of isolation and concentrated madness (During which time the griffons had, once again, fought and lost their own war) before he saw results. But eventually, he did it.

The man had finally managed to open a portal back to the earth.

He wasted no time in traveling back to his home. In-fact he might’ve killed himself then and there, having not truly tested the wormhole's stability. Regardless, once he made it through to the other side he immediately called to action the humans of the earth.

“Monsters! Evil in every form,” he would plead,” they want naught but for blood!”

And this is why I do not cry for our dearest protagonist. As I have said, the ponies of Equestrian were not ‘monsters’ or ‘evil in every form’. He had lied. This man used us. He used his brother and sisters as a means to an end. Starting a war that would kill tens of thousands. And while he suffered more than most, I cannot find it within my heart to forgive him. He reminds me, in part, of the old gods. It is the hallmark of evil to spread evil. And he caused far too much death to be considered innocent. But we haven’t gotten that far yet, so let's get back on track…

This truly petrified the peoples of the earth. Not only had they learned they were not alone, but such they were under threat! Imagine that, a man, a single survivor, comes bumbling through a rip in the universe screaming about the unspeakable horrors that live on the other side. Needless to say, we were petrified. But it was not until the man spoke of the god sisters that earth truly began to sing with fury.

Now, our story takes place a Long time ago. And a much different time it was. These were the days when the race of men had just begun to walk freely on the earth, and it was of a time when the gods of our nature walked with us. I shouldn’t say ‘with us’ as they did not like mankind. No rather, a more accurate representation would be ‘over us’ or perhaps ‘on-top of us’. Yes, sadly the gods of the earth do not sing a pleasant story. Much like the sanctimonious sisters of Equestria, our immortals were tasked with the protection of earth and the guidance of its people. They were meant to love us, to counsel us, and to rule us with the brilliance only an immortal could provide.

But we were betrayed.

Our gods were jealous and corrupted, down to the core. Some would even say they were outright evil. They used us for whatever purpose they deemed necessary. We were a utensil to them, disposable and insubstantial. They abused the earth and all its beauty in search of their ambitions. All the while, the humans suffering. Things continued in this way for thousands of years. For millennia countless lives were lost to the appetite of angry immortals, and all that time we suffered on. Quietly, under the boot heel of the gods, we wept.

That is, until there was a revolution.

We had suffered enough. Far too many sons had been stolen from their fathers. And for the last time had we bent the knee to creatures of evil. What sparked this rebellion is lost to time. But, much like the death of Gestalt, we are aware of the aftereffects that ensued. Men rose as one. And through centuries of bloody and appalling warfare, wiped Mother Earth clean of its filth. Chaining the urchins in the fires of the very land they sought to conquer. We had won. Finally, life was a gift and no longer was suffering the standard of existence.

Our hate of the gods was not unjustified. Luna herself would go on to agree with our wariness of the immortals, after her return to the land of Equestria. So when one of our very own warned us of yet another flagitious god, we did not ask questions. No, our boon was fury.

After our war with the shepherds of evil, we had gotten very good at killing things. The powers and weapons we held back then have gone down in legend as some of the greatest that time would ever produce. Such is the nature of man, however, that we have sadly forgotten the secrets of these wonders. Now all that exists is the stories, and the mossy old statues in the woods.

The first move was to organize the army of the earth. This was not a simple task, having disbanded our forces after the conclusion of the war. Many a warrior and weapon were scattered across the globe, and word traveled slowly during those times.

But, however reluctantly, we dusted off our old helmets and reignited the forges of war until the last man was armed. It took years of planning and meticulous preparation, but In the end we were ready. Possessing an army worthy of the earth, the time had come. With the help of that lying maggot, we reopen the portal into Equestria. But this time nobody was eager to jump through. All the peoples of the earth knew that we were about to start something that could easily outlive us all. The last war had gone on for hundreds of years, ending with the capture and destruction of Apollos fortress.

So, instead of moving our armies through at once, we decided to tread carefully. In an effort to shorten the war and maximize our destructive capability, we elected to learn of this new world and all its weaknesses. And learn we did. Mostly from the griffons, we learned of their magic, weapons of war, military strategy, and so much more. And through the time spent in the north, we had managed to carve out a place to forward our plans. This was the very first and only human military installation to be constructed in Equestria, And its name has forever gone down in infamy.

Eden, the epitome of the earth.

It was beautiful, consisting of miles and miles of underground passages and more than one impregnable keep, it stands to this day as a monument to what man can achieve when united as one.

After all our work and preparation was completed, the time had finally come. Some twenty years had passed, during which time the would be protagonist had passed into memory (thankfully). We had strength, and we had the motivation. The only thing left to do was to leave the gates of Eden behind and march south, a proposition that excited the children of Adam.

Finally, revenge was at hand.

~

He paused, if only for a moment, to stretch. For her part twilight had been a good audience. Nodding when he looked to her, and shrinking back when he told the less than happy bits. In fact, Autumn was surprised to find he was enjoying himself. Twilight was indeed adorably expressive.

“You’re not done, are you,” she said through a dry throat. “And is this a true story? I had no idea that humans were real.”

“Oh yes, its as true as you and me. Sadly the race of men has all but been forgotten from time, but they had a huge impact on us ponies.” He scratched his chin and looked down at the little filly absentmindedly, “In-fact if it wasn’t for them nightmare moon might’ve beaten The princess.”

Twilight reared back in shock, “Wait a minute, you don’t actually believe the stories about the nightmare?!”

The old stallion merely gazed back at her, holding a knowing expression. And the little filly seemed to scoot a little closer to the fire. “I’m scared.”

With his magic Autumn lifted her chin, “Oh twilight, don’t be scared.” Celestia will kill me if I scared you, he mused. “If you recall the stories, nightmare moon is trapped on her namesake, far far away from here. I promise you are safe.” She seemed to relax a little, slowly loosening her muscles.

“Really though, she can’t have been real.”

“Twilight,” he looked at her with the utmost sincerity, “there might come a day when some pony tells you otherwise, but I will promise you this. There are things in this world that you would rather not believe in, nightmare moon being one of them. In-fact, she makes an appearance in this story, at least I think.” He flipped the pages and squinted. “Not sure. But for every bad, there is a good.” He smiled at her, “ Take princess Celestia for example, do you think she would let anything hurt you?”

“No, I don’t think the princess would let anything hurt anything if she could help it.” This warmed the heart of the old stallion. Oh, how he missed the days when he would sit by the fire with his own family…

“Well, there you have it. You’ve nothing to fear.” his face had fallen, but Twilight didn’t notice.

“That's not the end is it?” She asked, a slight hint of panic on her tongue. “Because I know how old books can be incomplete and-“

“No there's no need to worry, I think we are only about halfway through,” he said, absentmindedly flipping through the pages.

She relaxed, “Good, it was just starting to get interesting.”

“Then I suggest,” he stretched and fell back into position, “we get on with it.”

~

It began with rumors. Whispers in the alleys and taverns, of a nameless evil. Amassing, unchecked, in the north. Something far greater and far more terrible than the griffon hoards was at hand. And, as is the case with most rumors, they were ignored.

“I’ve seen them, with my own eyes. An army, the likes of which we have never known!”

“They stand upright and walk with the speed and strength of a hundred cragadiles! I’m lucky to have escaped with my life!”

“Monsters! like were told about as fillies…”

But despite the best efforts of some, life simply carried on. Mares took their children to the park, and stallions got up in the morning to work in the frozen fields. Things were normal. Ponies always talked about Griffonstone! And just because they were getting a little imaginative did not mean the world was about to end.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

When they came, they struck like a hurricane. No survivors were left in the northern villages. Nothing but silence and empty buildings. No, armed with the unshakable belief of righteousness, they had destroyed everything. Ponies had fought back of course, But it proved for naught. They were caught off their guard, and entirely under-equipped.

When the silence of the north was finally noticed by the immortal sisters, things were already too late.

The city was taken overnight. We had managed to do in one night what the griffons could not for a thousand of years. Canterlot was an important strategic location. It was situated on top of the tallest mountain in the region and was built like a fortress. And as I’m sure you already know, would go on to become the capital of the country (after Nightmare moon was banished of course). But their defenses proved to be inadequate. Royal guards and magicians stood little chance against the bone and sinew of the armies of Adam. The sisters were forced to move their warriors south, to their castle in the Everfree. Where they began to assemble their armies.

Although the battle was quick, it was terrible. Far too many had died that night, and much of the casualties were sustained by the humans. Due in part to our losses, a decision was made. We were to halt our advance south, using the city as a platform to operate in the southern half of the country. Launching attacks on the neighboring cities and villages from the Mountain would have proven to be horribly effective, had we been given the time.

Before we continue, however, it is important to note that the humans were not warmongers. Not entirely, at least. After having taken Canterlot, General of the southern army, one Prometheus Menoetius, was horrified at the bloodshed. He witnessed fillies without mothers, crying in the streets out of hunger. And colts left fatherless, all because of the humans righteous anger. And for the first time, doubt began to crawl up his spine. Perhaps this was not a country of demons…

After having spoken with mankind’s leadership and on their approval, He sent an envoy south to parley with the god-sisters. He feared that they had misjudged the ponies and wished to end the war before it had truly begun.

This was not a popular proposition for most humans. When we finally left Eden behind people began to witness, first hand, the proto-humans of Equestria. To most of the soldiers the suspicions had been confirmed. They believed the Ponies had taken the race of man and somehow lowered them to the mindless animals that fought in the streets. The accusations would fit the description of the pony world aptly, at least from the perspective of our long dead protagonist. Their resolve was made stronger by what they saw. For them, the war was justified.

But the message was sent. And in time it eventually arrived at the gates of the castle of the two sisters.

When Celestia received the message that the humans of earth wanted peace she was, at first, overjoyed. She, thanks to a life of warfare with the griffons, detested fighting and wanted to preserve the lives of her subjects as best as possible. And, had this message been presented to her a century prior, Luna would have agreed fervently. But during this time, things were not ideal among the sisters. Luna, unbeknown to them both, was consorting was an evil as old as the stars. The Nightmare. The creature had coiled its way into the young goddess’s head, promising great things for the country and its ponies.

“Power,” it would sing with a voice like silk,” the likes of which you’ve never know.”

This creature had spent the last one hundred years slowly and surely courting the mind of the lesser light. It had planted the seeds of jealousy and lust into the young godlings thoughts. All the while manipulating her into believing it a friend. Some have gone on to speculate that it was the Nightmare who transported that first man of earth into Equestria, in hopes of starting this war.

Regardless, it was the will of the Nightmare that swayed Celestia’s views. Through Luna, it appealed to the Temper of the eldest sibling. A task that proved to be quite difficult, despite its expertise on the subject.

The god sisters were young, by their standards. So what they did I choose to forgive. And truly it wasn’t them who made the decision, it was that evil thing that had them possessed. And they have more than made up for it nowadays.

The envoy was sent back in pieces. They had denied peace and elected instead of war. Such is the mind of a young immortal to think themselves invulnerable.

More than anything this disappointed the children of the earth.

“They are no different than the demons of our homeland.”

“I had hoped for more, but…”

But we were subject to what would seem to be nothing more than yet another mindless tyrant. And unfortunately for the twin sisters, we came prepared.

With war back on the horizon the armies of man quickly sprung into action. The original strategy would still work, despite them having delayed. All surrounding cities and villages were to be immediately captured. And in an effort to further strengthen mankind's military superiority, a request for reinforcements was sent to the fortress at Eden. This plan proved, so it seemed, to be devastating. In the following weeks, nothing would stand in their path. The only true opposition came in the form of the lunar army, which had taken to attacking the western front. And even then it would seem ill-prepared and unorganized.

Some, the more hopeful of them, would go on to wish for an easy victory. And the following weeks would further reinforce that belief as the last southern city, that of ponyville, was captured. Things were looking up, the only real problems lay in the west with the ever-growing lunar forces.

It was because of this threat that the southern army was pulled back, and repositioned on the western front. Why guard a border with more men than it needed? The reason was sound. So, the twenty thousand men stationed in and around the south were moved. Leaving behind a mere tenth of their forces (two thousand soldiers) to guard the town of ponyville.

Unbeknown to the godless creatures, they had played right into the hands of the immortals. Celestia had counted on the human advance halting at the Everfree and would go on to plan accordingly. The men of earth had been tricked. The army of the sun and moon were already summoned and ready. Having taken full advantage of their enemy’s barter for peace. Fully equipped and well rested, they were wholly prepared for warfare of every fashion. And now that the southern flank was undefended, it was easy prey.

One by one the Equestrians began to recapture their homes. Town after town fell to the magical flames of the sun gods war machine. Simultaneously her sister would go onto launch, with the full extent of her forces, a full-on assault on the western front. Taking them completely by surprise. The humans were now fighting on two fronts. And their numbers were ever growing thin.

The last town to be dealt with was ponyville, as Resistance had proven to be unusually strong in that region. The day star had sent out a division of three thousand troops to secure the town. They had been expecting an easy victory, what with the area being surrounded. But within her command circle Celestia had been met with naught but silence from her soldiers. She feared the worst. If her troops were defeated her southern flak was undefended. Assuming the humans had managed to survive the onslaught of her soldiers, they could launch a counterattack that would prove to be devastating to her plans. Thus, a decision was made. Celestia, and much to the chagrin of her commanding officers, was to personally take a squadron of seven hundred soldiers to ponyville. South she would march, to secure their ever so pesky lower border.

In truth, the solar sister was feeling a bit guilty. She had spent the entirety of the war behind the lines, planning and working strategy. Not to say that she enjoyed frontline warfare, no that was her sister's cup of tea. But still, she wanted to help. So it was, She would fight alongside her soldiers as a true ruler should.

It took four days of a forced march to reach the fields around ponyville (quite a feat when considering the distance). Really, though, it was hard to tell when they had arrived. The once charming rolling green hills and grassy plains of southern Equestria were completely unrecognizable. Even Celestia was shocked at the state of things.

The most notable difference was the grass, or the lack thereof. It was all gone. Buried, burned, or outright disintegrated, the once pleasant fields of ponyville had been turned into a muddy wasteland. Deep craters sat, blown into the hillsides, with an ever-present dark red liquid pooling at their bases. Even the trees were marked by warfare. Although they had been sparse to begin with, one could easily pick out the splintered remains of what had once stood, a testament to time, as great earthen wonders. A sight that saddened the heart of the goddess, I was friends with some of these trees, she would muse, Some, even, I knew from naught an acorn. Perhaps the worst of all was the silence. It was clear and all-encompassing. No birds, no babbling streams. Only the sound the of wind on the air. Slicing, like a sharp breath, through the sky. That and the mud. It slowed their pace, clinging to hooves and wheels like a suffocating wet blanket. Celestia knew that the world would recover, it always did, but still it was a sad sight. How long? How long before foals and fillies would run in these fields again? When would her sun would shine down on secret picnics and runaway lovers, instead of glinting steel and smoldering tree-stumps? She detested the war and her enemy for bringing it upon them.

So lucky, she was, that they found her. It was dawn. The squadron had just finished packing up camp, readying themselves for the final march towards ponyville, when the report came in. The humans were marching straight for their position. A good distance, they were, and time seemed to be on the side of the sun. But experience is a good teacher and it told her not to take chances. She rallied her seven hundred soldiers, two hundred mages and five hundred earthbound. Though little, despite the best efforts of Luna, was known about the humans that now occupied her country, She did understand that they were strong. Too strong to pit against any unicorn in a fair fight. So, taking this into consideration, she positioned her mages well behind the battle lines. Using them as a form of artillery. In no time, the board was set. Her soldiers stood, stern and sturdy, awaiting the arrival of their enemy. How exactly the humans had managed to locate her army, Celestia did not care. She wanted blood, despite herself, and she would have it.

All was quiet as they waited in the early morning light. Naught but the bated breath and nervous shuffling of her soldiers could be heard above the stillness. The deep breath before the storm, if you will. But eventually, they began to discern, from the suffocating silence, the telltale sounds of an army. A hard and steady march. It was a strange sound to the Equestrians. Instead of the normal quadrupedal pairs of two, the human footfalls came one at a time. It unnerved them. Most of which had not seen prior combat with this particular enemy. For a time that was it, a steady and unfamiliar advance. But eventually, and just over the edge of the horizon, Celestia could begin to make out their foes. And she was shocked.

The angels, and that is what she likened them to, that stood before her were massive. They easily topped six feet, at least most of them, and were clad in a stunning silver armor that shimmered, ever so delicately, in her early morning light. Standing upright, unlike the humans of Equestria who preferred to skulk on four limbs, they moved at a graceful jogging pace. Some had Long hair hair, while others bore great beards. None of them were clean, warfare is a dirty business, but despite the dirt and grime that clung to their chain mail coats and steel breastplates. The men managed still to shine out on the fields before her. Had we been meeting under different circumstances, she mused ,I might’ve found them beautiful. It was, however, their weapons that truly stood out as strange. At first, it was difficult to make out exactly what the humans of earth had elected to bear into battle. But as they drew nearer, Celestia could easily see the impossibly long spears held in the hands of her foe. If you could even call them spears, they had to be fifteen feet long! Not to mention to glorious broadswords that Hung from their belts. She gazed upon her own weapon, a light blade built for speed, not power. It seemed to shrink in its scabbard as when compared to the weapons of the enemy.

“Dragon company phalanx formation! Apollo company raise shields!”

She snapped back to attention. For all that had encapsulated the goddess, they paled in comparison to the voice. It was fair and kind, though it carried a Tempered authority behind it. This man, she surmised, would likely have been the commanding officer.

On his command there was a clattering of armor, and the humans moved into formation. Spears were pointed down towards the ponies. And, either from the ground or from their backs, great diamond-shaped shields were pulled up and in front of them. Each locking into place with the other, forming a sort of barricade behind the long spears.

The company of humans (which couldn’t have been more than three hundred strong) halted their advance a mere six hundred yards from the opposition, taking care to keep formation. For an infinitesimal moment, once again, all was still as the two armies gazed at each other. A sense of ever-present dread permeating the once beautiful wasteland. The angels of earth and the stallions of Equestria, the strong and the magical, standing against earth other. They stood like that, in the early morning dew, for what would seem like an eternity. Each waiting for the other to make the first move. In truth it was only the scant visage of maybe a minute, before sound filled up the hungry air. Once again the clanking of armor, though this time considerably quieter, echoed across the field. And a glint of early morning daylight could be seen as a man, tall and fair, left the safety of his company behind. From his helmet fell, unto his armored shoulders, long brown hair that burned a fiery bronze in the light of day.

This surprised the day star. What is he doing? Is this some sort of strategy? Perhaps a trick meant to cloak her fears in a false sense of safety.

He stepped slowly forward. Past craters and through muddy puddles, Over splintered logs and burnt out bushes. Until he came at last unto his destination. Completely exposed and, Celestia noted, within range, he stood like a steady tree, in the middle of their battlefield. He spoke.

“Under a flag of neutrality, I ask to parley with your commanding officer!”

To this, there were whispers of trepidation. The ponies could not seem to decide between simply shooting the man or engaging in negotiations. Some would suggest, quite fervently, that they were being tricked and that a barrage of their finest artillery would solve the problem outright. Others argued a direct answer to the call of parley, and to speak to the man. Eventually, a decision was made. His call was to be answered. And seeing as Celestia herself was present, she would be the one to do it. So, and despite the best efforts of the ponies, the day star took action.

A great booming sound, like that of thunder, was heard. In an instant, she stood at eye level with mankind's representative. He took a step back, a hand falling to a small short sword dangling from his hip, all the while eyeing her. He did not flinch, however, or break his resolve. Celestia was surprised. She was a god and he a mortal, he didn't seem at all afraid? Instead, he gazed upon her with what would seem like a calm expression. But his eyes told a different story. Celestia had spent far to much time dealing with scheming nobles and a certain chaos god to miss eyes like that. They bore into her, reaching past the fleshy confines of her body and freezing her soul. Fury, unbridled hate that brought with it horrors to great to speak. Why the man hated her so was beyond lost to the sun god. What had she done to wrong him?

“Do you represent this army?” He said, throwing his free hand behind Celestia. She had heard that voice before. The same man who had called out the formation.

She took a deep breath and sighed, “Yes, I do. I am Princess Celestia,” she bowed low, “and you are trespassing in my country.” With that, she glared at the man, “What do you want?”

“As I said I wish to parley,” his hand dropped from the hilt of his weapon. “And I do so in peace, if you would allow it.” The last statement was laced with anger. Again, why did he hate her so? She was his enemy, true, but his went beyond the disgust of warfare. His distaste for Celestia was personal.

She took a deep breath and, with a voice like cotton, spoke, “Of course, I am no savage. Speak.”

This seemed to sooth the man, albeit only a little. “I have already fought with your soldiers, and it cost us. You possess strength, in your numbers, whereas I do not. Our forces have been stripped of that and weakened individually by your assaults, so I ask this. To avoid what would otherwise be a horribly bloody conflict, and rest assured Godling,” he spat the word off his tongue,” it would be bloody for the both of us, I would offer I chance to save our respective subjects from such a fate.”

“By doing what, I let you walk free while we sit and watch? No, I don’t think tha-“

“That is not what I had in mind,” he raised a hand,” if you would but let me finish.” Celestia was silent, and he continued, “I would propose single combat, a champion of my choice versus one of your own. If you win, my garrison has been instructed to surrender themselves to your forces. But if we win, we will be allowed to return to the mountain fortress unharmed.”

This was too good to be true.

“In this way, we could save many lives. And I would assume,” a hint of sarcasm, “ as their god, that is in your best interest.”

“What reason do I have to trust you?” She queried.

“I care about the lives of my soldiers, and this is the only way to save them. What reason would we have to lie?”

The silence once again reigned supreme as the Ruler considered the offer. It made sense, save the lives of the many and sacrifice the few. The only other option was all out war, and that would mean death for many of her own. Despite having the advantage.

“Very well, I must inform my officers,” and with that, another crack of thunder boomed from the sky as the immortal returned unto her forces.

A few moments passed, silent and chilling as the human waited, alone, on the muddy field. Then a shout, coming from the equine army, followed by a subdued argument. You could barely hear it, really, let alone understand what was being said. It was abruptly cut off with another shout and again the booming of thunder.

She had returned, “We have decided to take your offer. Who is your champion, human?”

“Who do you think?” He asked, tensing a little. “What about you? Do you fight for your soldiers, or do you have somebody else do it for you?”

Celestia glared down upon him. Again with the anger, it was beginning to get on her nerves. “I am to be my champion,” she hissed,” and I take pride in representing my subjects.”

“Good.” With that, there was a hiss as he removed his sword from its scabbard. It was a deep ocean blue, like ice or perhaps an eye. Beautiful, in all forms. From its pommel to the tip of its razor sharp blade, it was truly a weapon worthy of an officer.

The sun god of Equestria prides herself on many skills. She has lived a long life, and you're bound to learn a thing or to along the way. But chief among these skills was smithing. At the time Celestia was a master weapon-smith, even having forged her own blade. Many an hour was lost to the hypnotic hammering and enchanting sparkling that was all too familiar to a forge master. So when she was unable to name the metal or make of the blade, she was confused. And her confusion did not go unnoticed.

“Do you like it, oh beautiful goddess, its made from orichalcum!”

She took a step back, an expression of horror breaking through her quite facade.

“Yes,” He dropped into a fighting stance,” your magic will do you no good here.”

And with that, the game was on. The intelligence and strength of man matched with the experience and skill of an immortal. He lunged forward, swinging his sword like a lightning bolt towards Celestia. There was a resounding clang and a bright flash of light as the day star unsheathed her weapon and simultaneously blocked the attack. It's not possible, a trick. One I will not fall for, but her thoughts betrayed her. She jumped back, flaring her wings, as he advanced on her position. The man was much faster than she had first thought, easily a match for her own skills. She rose to the sky. And, hoping beyond hope, shot a blanket of fire upon the human.

He threw his weapon up in front of him as if to block the fire. And the last thing the spectating armies saw, one joyous and the other fearful, was the apotheosis of bravery. A fire stream, screaming down toward a man, alone and standing against immeasurable odds as he held his sword in defiance to the awesome power before him.

A great screeching sound, and the fire was gone. Replaced instead by the ever-present silence. The man was still standing, and the god had been knocked from the sky. This was followed by a ruckus of cheers from the humans. Finally, they thought, some hope.

She had been tricked after all. The weapon he held was enchanted, in a sense. Orichalcum was a strange and legendary metal. Supposedly used by the yaks, deep in the mountains, to fight off dragons and other magical creatures. It was said to have killed immortals, unfortunately for Celestia.

He was upon her in seconds, swinging the heavy weapon like it was made of cloud. His sword was deflected into the dirt, she had managed to regain her footing. Whatever that weapon had done to her had left her dazed, however. Her sword strokes were sluggish and lacked their usual fluid grace. And her breaths came in labored heaves, leaving one to wonder. Perhaps the sun god was not as powerful as she previously believed to be...

The human, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He had told truth, according to the old history scrolls, when he asked for single combat, not truly intending to trick the immortal. He was a man of his word. But still, things were going much better than he had planned. The sun god was vulnerable to his weapon. Now he had a chance, finally, to remove the curse of yet another prideful god.

The princess was losing. Giving more and more ground as the man assaulted her at speeds unheard of. One particular strike, a horrible overhead cleave, had nearly broken her sword in two. On impact, it had left her horn dizzied and sore and her ears were left ringing from the high pitched clang. She took another step back, but this time a mistake was made. A rock, nearly indistinguishable from the muddied fields, caught her hind leg. And, coupled with another horrifying sidestroke from the man, left her lying belly-up on the ground.

Again he lunged forward, throwing a stab towards her unprotected chest. She brought her sword down and, with a terrible hissing, spun the blade, deflecting it towards a safer direction. There was an opening, in his haste the human had dropped his guard. She lunged, finally going on the offensive, swunging a deadly blow towards his upper body. Another thundering clang and, terrifying the human garrison, a cry of pain. The blade had been deflected, but not without a price. Blood now could be seen, flowing from somewhere on the man's left leg. He was limping, his chainmail glowing a crimson red as his wound betrayed him.

The tides had turned, now Celestia was on the offensive. He had been crippled with her last attack. It was all the man could do, under the blizzard of sword strokes, to stay alive. Impossibly fast and expertly placed, the skill that only an immortal could possess. And that she was, Celestia had spent decades honing her skills. Building on her wealth of expertise with every passing day.

From the sidelines, those still brave enough to watch could hardly see a thing, only the blazing midmorning sunlight reflecting off of the armor and swinging swords. They could, however, hear the ringing cracks of metal on metal as their pushed her advantage. Finally, he was caught at the wrong angle. The human had stumbled back, falling to the ground. He landed with a grunt favoring his good leg on the way down. Her sword was raised and for but a moment, Celestia breathed a sigh of inner relief. The man was very good, so much so he had frightened her. An opponent worthy of his name, to be sure, but now it was over. Or so she thought.

The gods' sword was swinging down toward him so hard that it might have cleaved him in half. But it never found its mark. Instead, there was a blazing light, the firestorm had returned. But this time, and in contrast to its first appearance, it rose from the ground and into the sky. The sound of the flames all-encompassing, a sight that terrified both the humans and the equestrians.

A scream was heard as the sun goddess was thrown into the sky, blazing fire singeing her mane and robbing her needy lungs of precious air. High, she soared, into the pale blue sky. But even a god is not immune to the binding forces of their universe. A crack reverberated around the field as the earth reunited itself with Celestia. Followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

They could not tell at the time, but she had broken a wing (quite badly). Leaving her half unconscious from the pain, and entirely vulnerable.

Once again the man had saved himself. His weapon was pointed, shaking from exhaustion, at the sky where Celestia once stood. He had unleashed the firestorm upon her, and now the advantage was his again. In a flash, he was on his feet. His armor clattering as the man limped, ever so carefully, to a small crater. Within lay the defeated immortal. She was badily burned and bore lacerations from head to toe. Her left wing was broken at an odd angle, and it twitched slightly causing its owner to flinch here and there.

She looked up, having heard his labored footsteps, and tried to stand. But she failed, collapsing to the dirt in a heap. Whether it was exhaustion or the weight of her wounds he did not know. Regardless he pointed his sword at her and began to speak.

“I told you, magic was a bad idea,” He huffed angrily. “No creature should hold that kind of power, to begin with.” He frowned,” and you were so quick to use it against me. I had hoped for more. But you are no different than the others.”

“Others?” She spat. “I don’t know who you are, or what I did to wrong you. But I am not the evil creature that you seem to think I am,” with that she leaned in slightly, tightening her gaze. “Don’t pretend to know me.”

“The plague that is immortality. That is what I mean, my fair Apollo,” He waved his sword into the air as a sort of gesture, “And that is what you are. An underserving god, gifted power for no reason but luck. And just like all the other immortals, you have abused it. Like, for example, the enslavement of my people!”

“We have done no such thing! me and my sis-“

“Oh! That is rich! A tyrant and a lier! Very well, pest, if then that is true, what have I been seeing the entire stent I’ve spent in your country? Hm? Are the men I see before me an illusion?”

She shrunk back, “You don’t know what yo-.” Her words were quiet, reserved.

“Yes,” he huffed, “a prime example of a god. Prideful, arrogant, and entirely righteous. You remind me of Discord, isn’t that what you called him? Too insane to realize what he was doing, and far too strong to be stopped.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to him!” She screamed, her horn sparkling, “He was a monster and a killer!”

“And you, urchin, will follow the same path.”

“How dare yo-!”

“Maybe not today,” he said, raising his sword. “Maybe not tomorrow,” a limp forward, “but one day your arrogance will catch up to you. And innocents will suffer, like my people have suffered.” He was standing over her now, the tip of his blade lifting her chin. “But I won’t let that happen, I have fought too hard and too long to see history repeat itself.” He pulled back his sword, “I respect you, goddess, as my enemy. But I have no love for you or your kind. The power you hold is dangerous, and you lack the benevolence to wield it. You rule has been marked by warfare in the north for hundreds of years. You let nobles oppress the subjects you claim to love. And your treatment of my people is unspeakable.”

In truth he was right. The first few centuries of the Immortal Equestria were not pleasant. The gods were young and inexperienced, lacking wisdom they had sought to replace it with rash decisions. They were not good rulers. In all reality, the sisters of Equestria were falling down a similar path to that of Discord. Already the nightmare had taken hold in the lesser light, leading to the war that was at hand.

“You are a mortal soul with a gift of the divine. And mortals,” the weapon was above his head now, “always lust for more.”

That was it. The man swung his sword upon Celestia. She closed her eyes, flinching back. After a thousand years the time was at hand, really she had thought life would be longer for her. Maybe even outlasting her own sun. And to be cut short so soon was a sadness the likes of which exist only in dreams. For the first time since the banishment of Discord, Celestia was truly afraid.

But lucky for her, fate would play a different hand that day.

Once again a Thundering boom echoed across the battlefield as the fabric of reality was torn agape.

“Unhand our sister!” A voice crackled across the field.

There was a concussive blast as Luna slammed into the human, causing him to drop the sword.

Celestia promptly passed out.

But the battle was not over. The man was on his feet in seconds, having found and readied his weapon. He screamed a great battle cry as he charged mother moon, swinging his sword with ease. At first, the lunar god was surprised at his skill, only just managing to block and parry his advances. But the night was far more gifted in the art of war. And all to soon she had gained the advantage over the wounded soldier.

From her sister's soldiers she pulled weapons. In her magic she held a hundred blades, all swinging at their target with the fury of Luna. Clang after clang of steel split the air as the human managed to block them all. Spinning and ducking like the master he was, parrying some and cleaving others in half as they all assaulted their target. He pushed through the pain as, one by one, the blades cut through his armor and across his skin. It was some time before he was lost in his fatigue, such is the strength of that man, that great warrior, to never have given up.

But he was a mortal. And much to the despair of the human ranks, they could see his sword strokes grow heavy, and hear his breath become labored. It was only because of his many wounds, and previous battles, that a crack in his armor was made. By the time he saw the shadow of night, it was all too late. She was screaming towards him. Her immaculate blade held steady, and flying close to the ground. Her storm of swords was, at the last second, dropped, as her weapon flew in a blur towards its mark.

He moved to block. And a resounding, ear defining clang split the cold air like a lightning bolt. Into the sky flew the hilt and lower blade of her now broken sword, still vibrating. But the tip had found its mark. Buried deep within his chest, it had landed with a dull thud. Easily penetrating his armor.

Luna stood and watch as the man took a step forward, faltered, and then fell to his knees. Gasping for breath and clutching the intrusive piece of steel that now erupted from his chest. The silence had returned, and his panicked breathing echoed across the field uncontested.

“Y.. you broke your pact,” he heaved, “your word…” He clutched his sword within his grasp, desperately willing himself to get back up and keep fighting. But the wound went too deep. It had struck his heart, and now the world was beginning to fade into a silver glass.

“I sh… should have known...“

“You will watch your tone when speaking to me, human,” for a moment her eyes flashed a deep blue, appearing almost catlike. But in the blink of an eye it was gone. The lesser light walked over to her fallen enemy, putting a hoof on his shoulder and pushing him to the ground. “Insect,” she spat. Luna didn’t want to admit it, but he had scared her. His ability with a blade could have easily overwhelmed her own. And she burned with jealousy at the realization. Her victory was merely circumstantial. She, per the request of the nightmare, had abandoned any sense of honor. Leaving her enemy in the dirt and insulting him. That was until she had chanced a glance back towards him, and saw a content smile growing upon his face. This unnerved Luna to no end. Against her better judgment, she spoke.

“And what do you have to smile about, monster?” She squinted at him.

“Y… you know that is not true,” his voice was weak but level,” I am not the monster here.”

“You Bring war to m-“

“We brought w.. war to you, Asteria,” he had cut her off, something that greatly offended the night princess. But then he said something that she wasn’t expecting, “What did it offer you?”

Through her iron facade, a trickle of fear began to leak. And, despite his current status, the human was all to observing to miss it. She knew that he saw her terror, and it infuriated her, “Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth!”

He seemed to relax, “I’m going somewhere you cannot touch me, godling, you cannot hurt me anymore.”

She rounded on him, and before he knew it she was upon him. With her hooves planted on his shoulders, she spoke in a terrible tone, “You are nothing compared to me, a speck of dust! And just because your dieing does not mean I cannot make your last moments miserable!” These were not Luna’s words, really it was the creature.

It's important to understand that Luna was an honorable warrior. She had seen, like her sister, many countless years of warfare. And in that time had grown to respect her enemy, as a god should. But at that moment her mind was not her own, sadly her thoughts had been poisoned. And it was because of the nightmare that she felt jealousy and not sadness. It was because of the nightmare that she loathed him as blindly as a child.

“I will not fear you,” he raised his head towards her, halting mere inches from her own. Then he said something that Luna would not soon forget, “because I see you.” Chills went crawling down her spine as icy terror began to grip her. But he wasn’t done. And in her current state of mind, Luna was far to gone to stop him. “It will consume you, limb by limb, just like it always does,” his voice was growing softer as his body began to fail him. “And your sister will suffer.”

She stepped back, still in a state of panic. Deep down she knew that the human was telling the truth. That the nightmare was a thing of evil, and that her fears had been realized. But at that moment she had not the strength to overwhelm it. So the moon god elected to walk away. She left to human where he lay. Letting the shadow ease her fears and tend to her doubts, as it sang to her in its velvet voice.

The man died with his sword in hand. He succumbed to his wounds not long after the moon had left him, finally retreating to the long rest that awaits us all. He went in peace, greeting death like an old friend rather than an enemy. A good death, it was. And he was proud to have it.

The Lunar god spent the following moments in a state of panic. Almost forgetting about her sister. But when she was finally able to recall her surroundings, Luna rushed to Celestia. “Tia!” She cried, “Celestia, come back to us!” A spell was cast, her beautiful blue aura illuminating the surrounding dirt with an eerie silence. And slowly, the sun began to return to the plane of the living.

“Sister?” The sun queried, “sister?!”

“He is dead, I saved you from the filth. All the remains are his soli-“

“No.” She gasped, realizing the pain in her wing. “No, you can’t!”

This truly surprised the moon, the man had nearly killed her. “Why… why not? He almost killed you. They are dangerous, sister, they would see us dead!”

“No,” she breathed, “not dangerous, merely lost.” She looked into her sisters' eyes, “not unlike you and I. Luna I made a pact, and I intend to keep it.”

“What deal did you strike with these creatures?” She was shocked.

“I promised to let his people go if I was beaten, and now I must honor my word.” Her voice was strained, and uneven. Luna could tell that speaking was not a pleasant action. At first, her words had seemed ridiculous, why let them go? They had nearly destroyed the sun, they were warmongers. But the more that Luna stared at her beaten sister, the more she began to realize. Not only was this a war that they could not win, but it was also one they didn’t have to. The humans had offered peace, thinking a misunderstanding afoot. Now her sister was almost dead. All because Luna had listened to the nightmare, and chosen this war.

After that, she buried it deep within her heart. Down where light didn’t shine, and where its sweet voice couldn’t be heard. Past her fears and well below her thoughts. Armed with the sight of her beaten sister, she kept it locked away for thousands of years. But the moon was never free of its shadow, like a cat it sat and patiently waited. Waited for such a time as the god was weak, and without hope. Its story is not over, but for now, it was beaten.

Luna called back her sisters army, falling into the safety of the Everfree and honoring her sisters' word in letting the humans return to the mountain.

The following weeks were marked with negotiations. Celestia had learned a great lesson that day on the fields. Never again would she choose war over peace and always would she act with kindness and compassion. The day star would go on to become the god that she was meant to be. From her experience with the race of man, the sun was left a brighter star.

Peace was soon made between the two races, and the lands claimed by the humans were quickly returned.

With time a great friendship would form between the children of Adam and the ponies of Equestria, a friendship that held steady for many thousands of years. knowledge was exchanged, and the magic of man would become a legend among the ponies. They would fight wars together. Some, though very few, would even manage to unlock the secrets of immortality. Going on to join the god sisters as equals. Sadly, at the time that I write this, humans have departed these lands, and I fear that I am the only one left. And unlike Celestia, I do not possess the power of immortality. So for all that would read my work, this is my prophecy. Humans will return to these lands at a time when all seems lost. We will rescue our beloved friends from the monsters that would plague their doorsteps, and be reunited with the world of Equestria. Until then, however, we sleep. Far away we sleep in the confines of our own world, Safe from the nightmares that live in the dark, we rest.

~

“And that,” he huffed, “marks the end of our story. My look at the time! It's half past two!”

Twilight blearily blinked her eyes, “So it was a chronicle.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Autumn asked, leaning forward.

“The story, its a chronicle. Its the first time they came to Equestria.”

“Oh, yes.” He placed the heavy book back down onto his lap, “Of course that's only one of the stories it tells.”

“I wonder why they put that one in.”

“Oh, I imagine that they have a reason. Human beings were tricky creatures. They never did anything if it wasn’t on purpose, at least that what the princess says.” He leaned back, popping the stiffness out of his back. “She misses them, our princess. As you heard the humans managed to ascend into godhood, albeit a scant few. I’ve asked her about them before, apparently, they made good friends.”

“Angels,” Twilight murmured.

“Sorry?” He asked.

“In the story, the princess likened them to angles. Maybe they’re in heaven.” She smiled sleepily at that.

This seemed to resonate with Autumn. Before him, sat a filly. So young and innocent. She was splayed out in front of the fireplace like a rag doll, all four limbs extended onto the floor. For a moment, if he tried hard enough, Autumn could imagine the lavender of her coat into a rich brown. He could will her twisty mane into the scruffy forest that had sat atop his own Childs. And for but the briefest of seconds he felt like a father again.

“Twilight?” He asked.

she was fast asleep.

His face fell a little, once he realized it was safe to do so. I can’t leave her like this, he mused. Lighting up his horn, he ever so gently picked up her sleeping body and floated it onto the bed. He tucked her under the covers, nice and tight as his son had liked. He could hear it now, the voice of his pleading child as he asked his father to tuck him in. His boy had not died a child, but still. It should’ve been me, he told himself for the millionth time, I’m the father, I’m the protector. doesn’t matter that he was grown, it should’ve been me. The old scholar was pulled from his thoughts by a voice.

“Mh… thank you,” she said, still half sleeping.

He paused, “No, thank you… Merry Hearths Warming, Twilight.”

And with that, he turned away from her. Putting out the fire as he walked for the door. I’m going to have to do this again sometime, he thought to himself. For the first time in a long time, Autumn felt good.

Pausing in the doorway he chanced a look behind him. Outside he could spy snowflakes falling, gently, in the moonlight. It looked like a white Hearth warming this year. Good, he mused, for once those lazy pegasuses were on time. He then turned, Slowly closing the door behind him in an attempt not to wake Twilight. The door clicked into place, and Autumn Quill made for his tower.

That night his dreams would be restful. And in later days he would go on to build a great friendship with the princess's student. From then on and until his death, Twilight sparkle and Autumn Quill would spend Hearths warming together. Telling stories by the light of a fire. Memories would be made, and lessons learned. And when the time for her accession into godhood was at hand, Twilight would think of him and the very first story he had told her. One that spoke of the angels of the earth, and the dangers of immortality.

The End