Chapters Fluttershy clenched her body as she readied her element, right now all she could do was hope. Hope that Celestia would keep her end of the bargain with Martin, hope that the barrier spell wouldn’t work, hope that somehow goodness and kindness and friendship, actual friendship would win. Her body began to levitate along with the ponies she once called friends as rainbow energy began to surround them in a vortex as the crowd of ponies began to roar. From what little see she could see from outside of the hurricane Celestia was staring at them with a manic grin which before this conflict she never thought she would see on the once serene and dignified monarch’s face. It was a grin more hideous than had been plastered on the muzzles of any villain she faced as an element. There was no lust for power, no sick amusement, just pure unadulterated hatred that chilled her bones to the very core.
She glanced at the others, Pinkie was smiling innocently, Rarity, Applejack, and Twilight looked serious but Rainbow, Rainbow had a face like Celestia’s, and that hurt most of all. It was if her very first friend, the one who always stood up for her in flight camp, the mare who went out of her way to befriend griffins and dragons, the mare who always stood up for her on multiple occasions had become a monster. A monster who enjoyed hurting, and killing and doing horrible things so long as those that were being ruthlessly annihilated were ‘bad guys’ in her mind. She hoped that if the old dash, the Dash she remembered fondly saw what she would become she would be horrified. That she’d do everything in her power to avoid ending up like this-this thing! That was wearing her skin... Knowing her she’d probably try and destroy the portal prevent Equestria from ever coming to earth, before going up to Celestia and insulting her to her face. It was funny really, even when Rainbow Dash was her enemy, she was still wishing that another version of Rainbow was there to save her. Yet as she looked around the circle she noticed that she was incapable of looking her former compatriots in the eye, but not for the reasons she would expect.
In fact unlike them she seemed to be going higher and higher, or maybe they were going lower it was all quite hard to tell. All she knew was that right now she was already a good 3 feet above Twilight whose Alicorn ascension had made her the tallest member of the group and it did not seem like she was going to stop. In fact not only was she flying higher and higher but she was getting brighter and brighter as the lights around the other bearers began to dim. It was almost as if she was sucking all of the energy from the rest of them. Something the others were clearly aware of with Rarity now shuffling around in a panic as her hooves once again touched the ground. Meanwhile Rainbow and Twilight were making a futile effort with their wings to raise up but it looked as if they were pinned under an elephant. If this was under a different circumstance and she was the kind of pony who appreciated schadenfreude, she supposed that this would be rather funny as a panting Applejack was forced onto her stomach legs splayed out as if she suddenly gained 200 pounds. “Girls.. w-what’s going on?” Asked Pinkie whose last bit of rainbow energy was being sapped from her and onto the big ball that was surrounding Fluttershy, she was clearly afraid. Twilight grunted as she made another attempt at standing, “I- don’t urgh.. I don’t know Pinkie this hasn’t happened before!”, Twilight had already been drained for several seconds beforehand. In fact from what she could gather Applejack was the first to be drained, then Rainbow then Twilight, then Rarity Pinkie was the last, but there seemed to be another pony who was also contributing to Fluttershy’s orb of power which continued to rise above the stadium. Beneath her, grunting in pain and physically straining to get away was Princess Celestia herself who almost seemed to be leaking a bright yellow and purple magical aura from every orifice.
“THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!” Screamed Celestia as she continued to thrash trying desperately to get away. Twilight whose head was already anchored to the ground made a feeble turn of her head to find the distressed princess.
Celestia for her part ignored Twilight’s cry of worry and continued to froth at the mouth in rage at what was going on. “This is not happening! This is not happening! I AM WORTHY! I CONTROL YOU! YOU ARE MINE TO ACTIVATE AND USE FOR THE SAKE OF EQUESTRIA!”. The ball was lowering, Fluttershy eeped as worry that this was Celestia’s doing began to creep in, but it seemed that Celestia was still hemorrhaging magic , making Fluttershy’s potential energy shield even brighter. From what little she could make out below her, everypony in the audience was shocked, some murmuring but most were simply too stunned to speak. The guards were aiming their spears but none dared to make a move against what must have been like a mix between the constitution and an atomic bomb which had suddenly turned against them. Fluttershy felt something new seeping into her as she was finally able to see Celestia’s tear filled eyes, the contempt balanced by fear and only the ghost of arrogance remaining. Then she began to speak but not in her voice, in fact it wasn’t one voice at all.
“THE ELEMENTS OF HARMONY ARE YOURS TO ACTIVATE BUT WHAT THEY DO IS UP TO THEIR OWN DISCRETION.” Said the gruff tone of Starswirl the bearded whose disappointed prismatic visage broke off from Fluttershy like mist leaving her mouth on a cold day. Celestia moved back and stumbled at the sight of her dead mentor now chastising her. “FOR LONGER HAVE PONIES HAVE THEY BEEN IN THIS LAND, AND FOR EVERYCREATURE ELSE THEY ALSO STAND.” Twilight gasped as she heard the deep feminine voice and in a barely audible whisper “Zecora…”. The Zebra joined the wizard glaring down at Celestia who tried to shrink back further, though her look was more disappointed than . Then multiple voices came from her throat, “WHAT ALL OF YOU HAVE DONE TO BOTH YOUR WORLD AND THAT OF MAN WAS AN ATROCITY UNHEARD OF IN HISTORY.” At this point all elements save for Rainbow were gasping in shock as more forms began to shuffle out, little Strong heart with an entire tribe of spectral buffalo, Dragonlord ember who stepped forth in a regal band of flaming red light, Queen Novo and the Hippogriffs, even Gilda who briefly glanced at Fluttershy with a look of guilt before hardening her expression. Fluttershy felt even warmer, as a taste began to form in her mouth, it tasted like, well it was hard to describe but it tasted like a mixture between Cotton Candy and… chocolate milk.
A familiar laugh escaped Fluttershy’s mouth, one she never thought she’d hear again, as her face broke into a huge grin. “Funny Celly, who would thought I of all Draconequii would be saving the world from you.” From Fluttershy’s body issued forth the long snaking form of Discord who unlike the others began to protectively wrap around Fluttershy. He turned to her and made one of his trademark shit eating grins, “Sorry I was late Shutterfly, but you just know how I am with showing up on time.” Fluttershy didn’t know whether she was crying from grief, relief, or joy at the moment as she simply pulled the serpentine chimaera into a tight winghug.
This tender moment was of no interest to Celestia who had clearly been saving up the necessary energy to scream, “UNWORTHY! EVERYTHING I DID I DID FOR MY LITTLE PONIES!” There were a few hushed murmurs of agreement from the members of the audience who were not still too stunned to speak. Once again it was Zecora’s turn to speak, “You made sure ponies would not be lost, but were your actions worth the cost?”.
Rarity, who along with Pinkie had completely stopped any attempt at fighting chimed in, “What… cost? The humans?”. Applejack shot her a glare as if the very idea of them being able to wrong humans was offensive.
Gilda snorted, “No Dumbass! That was ponies. I was on that ship remember?”, Little Strongheart trotted forth besides her, “And isn’t it strange that we only had one ship?”, and finally it was Discord who uncoiled himself from Fluttershy so that he stood only inches from Celestia’s face, “And is anypony here wondering who handled the sun and moon back home while you were out gallavanting around in monkeyland?”
For a minute there was silence then there were gasps, then shouts and then screams. Celestia ever one to take control of the situation stood as tall as she possibly could, “ARE YOU GOING TO BELIEVE HIM? THE ONE WHO SOLD US OUT FOR THOSE BLOODTHIRSTY APES? THE VERY FATHER OF LIES WHO PLUNGED EQUESTRIA INTO AN AGE OF CHAOS?”.
The shouts grew quieter, until once again there was silence. “B-but what if he’s right this time…” The voice was quiet but unmistakably Pinkie’s who hair was by now completely flat. Celestia’s eye twitched in wrath, as she turned over to Pinkie managing to trot a few laborious steps before the energy once again held her still.
“What did you say?” Celestia’s voice was quiet but by no means less angry.
Pinkie did not take her eyes off the floor, “What if he’s right….”.
If looks could kill then Pinkie would most likely be dead six times over. “Pinkamena Diane Pie, stop this foolishness at once.”. Pinkie looked up her eyes now stained with tears, “But-but if he’s right their dead, and we let them die..”.
Pinkie continued to ignore Celestia’s outburst, “I-I made Gilda a Pinkie Promise I’d help her bake scones, but if she’s dead then I can’t and if I can’t I-I broke a Pinkie promise…”.
Rainbow Dash was growing agitated at this display, “Pinkie, for the love of Celestia stop, this is just one of Discord’s tricks! Just like his ‘death’. It’s obvious he was planning to do this the whole time!”.
“Darling..”, Said Rarity ever quick to de escalate these scenarios, “Pinkie has a point. If what all these.. creatures are saying is true then… well it is worth too much to discount the possibility.”
Rainbow flexed a wing and let out a bitter sardonic laugh, “As if, do you really think we were actually able to kill him? I mean not even Celestia could stop him without the elements of harmony!” Celestia looked offended as Dash placed her hoof further into her mouth, “I mean if she could beat him, why did it take so long? And why didn’t she beat him the minute he got out a second time.. I mean let’s face it she needs the elements and once Fluttershy left we didn’t have all of em!”.
Twilight for once moved her head from watching Celestia and began to look towards Dash, “Rainbow, I was there, Celestia and I examined him and declared him dead.”
Rainbow Dash groaned, “Twilight everypony makes mistakes, besides do you really think science would work on Disco-.”
“THAT IS ENOUGH I AM NOT EVERYPONY! I DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES!” Now it was time for the royal canterlot.
Dash looked taken aback by this outburst her wings which were once outstretched curled up besides her, “But Princess I’m on your side!”.
Celestia stamped a hoof, “YET YOU MOCK ME!”. With that Rainbow promptly shut herself up.
“Princess, it’s not true is it?” Asked a concerned Twilight Sparkle, though this question did not penetrate through Celestia’s rage, it was almost as if she was avoiding the question entirely.
“Is it true..” Asked Twilight in a weak tear stained voice, Celestia shuffled uncomfortably in place.
“My dearest student,”
“A good teacher would tell her the truth.” Said Starswirl whose shimmering form illuminated Celestia from behind. Celestia remained silent, “Please at this point she isn’t a good anything.” Muttered Discord to no one in particular.
“Is it true?” Twilight’s voice was a little louder.
“Twilight.. I need you to understand.” Twilight was having none of this and continued to repeat her mantra which only grew louder.
“IS IT TRUE?!”.
Celestia screeched in frustration bearing out her wings as fiery tips briefly appeared on her mane, rearing back despite the immense magical pressure and stomping onto the hard stone floor. “IT’S TRUE! THEIR DEAD! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.”
Fluttershy could almost pinpoint the minute Twilight’s heart shattered and soon she was uttering another mantra, “you… you YOU MONSTER! HOW! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?! WHY DID YOU RISK EVERYCREATURE ON EQUIIS TO ‘HELP’ A SPECIES THAT DIDN’T EVEN WANT IT?!”
Celestia lowered her head, her anger starting to burn out, “Twilight… dear you have to understand.”, but this did nothing to alleviate the purple alicorn’s wrath.
“UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT YOU’RE A MASS MURDERER WHO WIPED OUT ENTIRE ECOSYSTEMS AND WHOLE CIVILIZATIONS, ALL BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T LIKE THE CULTURE OF SOME APES WHO COULDN’T EVEN SET HOOF ON OUR WORLD? TELL ME?! I WANT TO KNOW!”.
Celestia stepped back and sighed, “It wasn’t about the humans.”
“IT SURE AS TARTARUS SEEMED LIKE IT! THAT WAS THE WHOLE SELLING POINT RIGHT? BRING THEM TO HARMONY? HELP SAVE THEIR SOULS BY BRINGING THEM TO YOUR LIGHT? I’D ACCUSE YOU OF STARTING A RESOURCE WAR BUT WE WEREN’T EVEN GETTING ANY RESOURCES!”.
Celestia closed her eyes, “I WAS DOING THIS FOR ALL OF YOU! OUR SUN WAS DYING TWILIGHT! IT WAS DYING! It was dying, there was nothing I could do! Believe me I’d tried for hundreds of years but nothing worked! This was our last chance at survival.”
“IT WAS EVERYCREATURE’S CHANCE AT SURVIVAL!” Responded Twilight still equally enraged.
“I understand… and.. I suppose what happened to all of our world’s other races was… regretful but I am not their leader, I am the leader of Ponykind and my race must come first. If it is anycreature’s fault they didn’t make it blame their leaders for not thinking sooner.”
Twilight growled, “Liar! They didn’t act because you didn’t tell them!”.
Celestia huffed, “TWILIGHT! Our world was dying, and they were threats! There isn’t enough room for us to coexist with them and truth be told there wasn’t much beforehand. Because of me Equestria would have finally been at peace, no more border skirmishes with the griffins! No more diamond dog Slave raids! No room for another storm king to arise! What I did was in everypony’s best interest-.”
“Was it in ours sister?”
“Was this war in our interest.. sister ?” Fluttershy had never heard Luna speak with such contempt even when she was Nightmare Moon.
Another figure came forth from the mist, the waterlogged ghost of Shining Armor his horn cut off and a constant dripping sound accompanying his presence, “Was I worth it? I was a father?”. A flash of light and a specter in the form of something halfway between a charred corpse and a moving shadow stood beside Shining armor, it’s spindly wings and horn denoting it as an Alicorn. “Was I worth it?” Asked the radioactive spirit in the voice of none other than Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, “I was mother?”, more and more ghost ponies filed forth all of whom ran the gamut of injuries. Some were had limbs blown off which dripped blood, others had eyes shot out, fractured skulls, some of them were in such poor condition they barely resembled ponies. “I was a mother.” “I was a son.” “An Uncle.” “A teacher.” An entire chorus of life roles as the wraiths began to circle around Celestia. At this point Fluttershy had to avert her eyes, as it was quite literally too horrible to look. A few weeks ago she may have been a combat medic who stood up to a nigh omnipotent tyrant, but right now even surrounded by a field of light she still felt more like that same little filly in Cloudsdale who was too afraid to leave her home on Nightmare Night.
Celestia turned to her sister for comfort but was met with a glare as cold as the grave, “Luna, please…” At this point the once mighty monarch was now on the verge of tears. “Not only hath thou killed us, but you hath Damned us. Thanks to thee our souls are stained with enough blood to fill the western sea. Never to know rest until that blood is washed from our souls by the harsh sands of time.” Cadance’s skeletal head emerged from Luna’s chest, wound. “Our only solace is that you shall accompany us.”Celestia shivered as one of Cadance’s hooves went through her barrel leaving a trail of ash upon Celestia’s snow white fur. More hoofs came towards her staining her coat with a mixture of water, ash and blood while Celestia simply closed her tear stained eyes and accepted the spectral barrage clearly in great pain.
“ENOUGH.” Boomed the many voices of the light spirits simultaneously, as the dead were dispersed. “WE ARE TOOLS OF REPAIR AND, CONCILLIATION NOT INSTRUMENTS OF TORTURE.”. The swirling circle of wraiths which was now pushed back to the edge of the coliseum towards a now fleeing audience began to hiss, a one hundred thousand voices loudly whispering for the most horrific things imaginable to be inflicted on the being they once worshipped. Rainbow looked up at luminous orb of souls and screamed, “SO WHAT THE HAY DO YOU PLAN TO DO TO US NOW?”. The army of light paused as if to consider it’s words, “WE HAVE ALREADY SETTLED UPON A PUNISHMENT FOR THE SIX OF YOU, THIS SHALL BE A PUNISHMENT BUT ALSO A LESSON AND PERHAPS A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION.” With those words Fluttershy began to sink like a feather as the light slowly left her, while the other elements began to be pulled up. A few like Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Celestia struggled while the rest simply looked resigned to whatever their fate may be.
Twilight looked down at Fluttershy before the light took her, “Fluttershy, whatever happens I want you to know you were right… I’m sorr-“, and with that final apology they were gone.
No sign of them except the sound of cracking bones, melting flesh and pained screams which came from the luminous sphere. The herd of the damned had stopped their threats and jeering and now stood in complete silence as they no doubt eagerly awaited what the elements had in store for those who had doomed their souls. Fluttershy was heartbroken as her a parade of horror filled her mind as she wondered what would become of her former friends. True Celestia may have deserved it and from what the elements had shown her perhaps Applejack did to, but Pinkie and Rarity didn’t deserve this, neither did Twilight or Rainbow. They may have committed some of the most horrid crimes imaginable but they were ignorant of their extent when they perpetrated them. As she lay on the floor weeping, her one solace was that the Elements promised their former bearers a chance to redeem herself, as the shock slowly caused her to lose consciousness and fade into, quiet peaceful darkness.
Thump… thump… thump…
For a minute all Fluttershy knew was darkness and void accompanied by the steady beat of her heart, if she could feel anything she would feel calm and content. If she was thinking right now she would perhaps be grateful that the world was saved despite her moment weakness. Then a small speck of light burst through shattering these hypothetical thoughts, at first it was a small trickle which soon became a smattering of pinpricks, then several large blotches and soon enough a cascade of light was all that Fluttershy could see. Next came her ears which twitched as they heard groans both produced by herself and others, who were no doubt on the ground as well. With great effort Fluttershy lifted her head from the floor and took a few preliminary glances at her surrounding, her vision growing less and less blurry by the second. Above her the spirits of harmony stood watch though the shadows of the others were no longer within them. The ghosts of those Celestia had damned were gone without a trace, not even a hint of mist or a stain of blood denoting their presence. If she didn’t know better she might have assumed that she had merely imagined them altogether. The stands were still filled with ponies but most of them were clustered at the top of the bleachers, most of them understandably terrified but too fascinated to leave. From what she could gather based on when she first came there most of the camera ponies had stayed. Fluttershy smiled, a small sad smile, the world needed to see this but then… then she looked in front of her.
While there were no piles of ash, skeletons or even statues, the six ponies who were absorbed by the rainbow orb were nowhere to be found. In their place lay six human women, all young, all naked, all ethnically ambiguous as if the race did not matter, and most importantly sharing the hair color of six ponies Fluttershy had once considered friends. A few were already up, the one Fluttershy assumed to be Pinkie was rocking back and forth a terrified smile painted on her face which was now taut like a Greek comedy mask. The out of shapee blonde, Applejack most likely was silently staring at her hands in horror. Rainbow Dash who had just awoke was screaming shaking her fist at the living embodiment of what she used to represent, her speech was mostly incomprehensible except for the few cries of “CHANGE ME BACK!” which went unheeded by the souls above her. Celestia was sobbing, loud ugly choking sobs as she seemed to try and scratch her skin off, Rarity looked dazed. Only Twilight remained calm and lucid, her face one of stalwart resignation as she stared at those turned into the very thing they tried to destroy.
After a few more sobs, slowly wobbled up each step now quite difficult with her new bipedal gait. “WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO US! WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST KILL US!”.
Celestia awkwardly flailed her fists barely managing to avoid falling face first on the concrete, “YET YOU TORTURE US! TURN US INTO THESE… THESE MONSTERS!”.
A voice high pitched male voice Fluttershy was surprised to here came to the fore, Stephen Magnet, “Please honey you were a little late on the whole monster bit.” Next Zecora spoke, “This curse is not what it seems, it gives you chance to be redeemed.”
. The other elements resumed their behavior, save for Twilight. On two shaky legs she stood using one of the various pediments as a hand rail, at that moment she didn’t flinch and stared the very spirit of harmony itself in it’s collective eye. “How.” There was no hint of sarcasm, no despair, no anguish, just a firm conviction to take any chance to right what she did wrong.
Once again Starswirl spoke, Fluttershy could almost detect a hint of pride in his voice, “Use your experience to do good, for both pony and man. The road will be difficult and filled with distrust Twilight Sparkle but the four of you still have a chance to make amends.” Clothes made of shimmer light appeared on the bodies of Pinkie, Rarity, Rainbow and Twilight all matching their old coat colors as if to afford them at least some dignity. A flash of light consumed Applejack who was then barely able to scream before she vanished.
Twilight looked back to harmony , “What about Celestia.” The orb spoke once more in unison, it’s tone somehow harsher and more unified. As if it was one voice of pure power rather than a collection of voices.
“Hers shall be more severe…”
Celestia now far from the dignified monarch she was once was, attempted to crawl away on her hands and knees not even attempting bipedal locomotion. Despite the glares given by her former subjects, some residual air of power must have stopped them from directly attacking her. When Celestia had gotten just halfway to the door she was once again hit by a beam of sickly green energy similar to that which made of the damned ponies which had once accosted the former monarch. Celestia let out an ungodly shriek of pain as the energy struck her, her attempt at escape completely halted as she keeled over. “FOR THE IMMENSITY OF YOUR CRIMES, YOU SHALL NOT BE KILLED. RATHER YOU SHALL LIVE.” Celestia screamed against, somehow more horribly as the energy seemed to burn her, “FOR EONS YOU SHALL NOT KNOW THE PEACE OF DEATH. RATHER YOU SHALL LIVE FOR THE TOTAL AGE OF ALL YOUR VICTIMS BOTH DIRECT AND INDIRECT AS A DESPISED FUGITIVE, HOUNDED CHASED FROM ONE END OF THE EARTH TO THE OTHER FOR YOUR CRIMES.”
She arched her back in an unnatural way as the beam’s light intensified, “ASH SHALL BE YOUR FOOD, AND BLOOD YOUR DRINK BUT STILL YOU WILL HUNGER.” Dark whispering spirits once again rose around her before entering into her mouth choking out her screams, “YOUR CONSTANT COMPANIONS THOSE WHOSE SOULS YOU DOOMED.” As if an act of god or perhaps the wrathful ghost of Luna a darkness began to cover the stadium as the moon eclipsed the sun it’s shadow slowly approaching the diarch. “UNDER THE SUN WHICH HAS BLINDED YOUR SUBJECTS YOU SHALL BE THE PINNACLE OF HUMAN BEAUTY” Every part that the shadow touched began to green, wither and desiccate as if it was sucking out her vitality, “BUT IN THE DARK MAN AND PONY WILL YOU SEE YOU FOR THE WALKING DEATH THAT YOU ARE.”
What remained of the crowd screamed and fled at the sight of the living corpse which had once led them, while the guards backed up and held their spears towards her. The creature now only barely recognizable as female let alone human grabbed one of the dropped spears and with one jerky motion thrust it through her heart with a rattling scream. Yet nothing happened, she still lived, “CELESTIA, YOU WILL NOT GET OUT OF THIS, UNTIL YOUR TERM HAS ENDED OR YOU HAVE MADE UP FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.” With a gurgle and surprising grace the revenant got up and ran out into the now empty streets of Canterlot leaving streaks of black blood trailing behind her from her gaping chest.
Despite the horror of the situation, despite the anger she should feel as she watched the skeletal figure slowly vanish all Fluttershy felt was pity. Pity at somepony who let hate blind them from the truth, pity for somepony who was truly alone save for those who despised her most, pity for someone who was far too deep into their own misdeeds to admit what wrongs they had done. Celestia no doubt deserved all this and more, but Fluttershy would be remiss as the element of Kindness not to feel something for her ruler turned enemy. In fact so lost was she in pity that she almost didn’t notice when Martin placed a hand on her withers and told her that it was time to go home.
Author's Note
Please give me criticism I totally understand this probably sucks.
Hate, that was the only thing Rainbow had left as she shambled through another town that she no longer cared to know the name of, her clothes only a few weeks away from falling apart entirely. She hated the human soldiers who were strutting around Equestria like they owned the place threatening anypony who even tried to stand up to them, she hated the fact that it was better to be thought of as one of them then to reveal herself as the former element of loyalty. She hated the ponies around her for being turncoats and cowards switching from one master to another the second they were in danger, 'loyalty my ass.'. She thought to herself remembering the mass laying down of weapons that followed when humans first made landfall. She hated her body, not just because it was human but because it was weak. Only a few days after she'd been shoved into this disgusting bald meatsack it turned out her lungs would start burning whenever she tried to run, surely some kind of ironic punishment specifically tailored to her. Yet more than anything she hated the gods, physical, immaterial, saint, spirit, didn't matter, she hated them all the same.
"Oh, Reed Pen, grant us wisdom and guide our choices..."
She looked around cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. While her ratty hoodie while offering protection and anonymity it did obscure her vision. seeing the opportunity Rainbow quickly reached down and shoved half the bits into her pockets. She'd take more but right now anymore suspicion was the very last thing she needed, and a few bits could get her a lot with the economy how it was. Hell this could get her a warm place to sleep for the night or three hot meals, more than she usually got in a week in her self imposed exile. She lifted her head with a mocking smile towards the stern bust it's eyes locked on hers. "Snooze you loose bud." Rainbow walked away cackling at her own joke, the coughs only interrupting her stream of laughter occasionally as she walked back to the market. The smell of roasted vegetables overpowering the smell of incense with every step.
"Uhh-Excuse me."
Rainbow froze. It was a mare's voice, not hostile but definitely pointed. She'd been found out, the only reason they weren't burning her at the proverbial stake is that they probably think she's with the military occupation. If they found out who she was, they'd, they'd, well let's just say it wouldn't be good. And in small towns like these, words got around, everypony knew each other, and they'd know her. Rainbow reached into her jacket pockets, feeling the cold metal on her smooth skin, grasping them with her dirt encrusted fingers. It was too late to put them back, it was fight or flight.
Rainbow swiveled around eyes mad, her face contorted in a simian snarl designed to use her new canine teeth to their fullest advantage. "What?!" She screamed, she didn't know who this pony was or what they wanted but the fact they were taking an interest in her was not good. As the anger cleared and Rainbow's posture loosened, she began to get a better look at her potential prosecutor. She was a Unicorn, young adult, seafoam green coat with dark black hair tied in a long braid. Her big blue eyes nervous but determined, and oddly enough... compassionate. Rainbow hadn't seen compassion in a long time, or at least compassion that wasn't condescending self righteousness from Twilight or the Traitor made solely to make them feel better.
The unicorn pawed the ground once more with her front hoof, "Sorry.. to bother you uhh." The Unicorn looked her over clearly having a hard time with human genders, "Miss, but.." The Unicorn's tongue seemed to get caught. Once Rainbow would have found it endearing, now it just reminded her of the traitor.
"Please miss." The Unicorn's voice was closer now, "My mother and I are seamstresses, would you at least let us fix your clothes. I-I promise I won't bother you afterwards." Rainbow froze and looked back, memories of Rarity rushing through her mind and filling her with a warmth that now felt uncomfortable.
"Wonderful, you'll just love our work, once my mother made a..." The Unicorn Mare who Rainbow had picked up was named Suture String would not stop talking as the two of them made their way through the tight cluttered allies, passing by a seemingly random mix of commercial and residential buildings. At first Rainbow hated it, Suture had gone on for hours without even asking her name (not that she would give it), but it grew on her. It had been the first time in months where Anypony spoke to her and she wasn't the main conversation point. Something that used to infuriate her back when she felt being the plaything of some incorporeal bucks made her hot shit. The one thing that really stuck out to her though was this, when Rainbow asked her why she cared this is what she said.
Rainbow ran her fingers behind her beanie looking about awkwardly, "So... how'd you get over it.". It was awkward small talk but there was just enough of a hint that Suture could tell Rainbow was having a very similar problem.
"Kid." Said Rainbow with heavy sigh, "That wasn't the ancestors or spirits or whatever, and if it was I don't want any of their goddamn help." Rainbow crossed her arms. Having such nimble expressive appendages was one of the few things she enjoyed about her new form.
"If you don't believe in them that's fine. I respect your beliefs." There was a trace of offense in Suture's tone, as she opened the door, "But I'd prefer if you at least tried to respect mine as well." Rainbow laughed.
"But.. why..."
"Because I've had enough of their bucking help, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for them." Rainbow was now on a tirade, "They dumped me into this hellhole, alone and miserable after using and abusing me ever since I was a bucking fo-" Rainbow stopped herself, "Kid, sorry got used to ponyisms." Good excuse. "Point is they only care about themselves, and it'd be better if you never have to meet them." Rainbow wanted to walk off as she normally did, she'd had enough ponies push back at her. Telling her it was all 'x's plan' or 'she needed to see the big picture' and those were the nicer ones. But she couldn't, all her motivation left her like she was deflating balloon forcing her to stare into Suture's big, empathetic, innocent eyes.
"I'm sorry you feel that way." She pulled up a chair for Rainbow with her Telekinesis as the human sat down, her body shuffling awkwardly in the seat clearly designed for ponies. "You know I wasn't religious until I started donating to the Reed Pen shrine."
"Nice, you think he's spending them on cider or worm medication?" What did a ghost need with cash anyways? Rainbow remember seeing those Haygyptian mummies in the Cloudsdale museum when she was a filly. Even back then the thought of leaving all that valuable stuff with some dead pony who couldn't leave his coffin felt like such a waste to her. Couldn't it go to orphans, or public works or even like a living king?
"So he became a god so he could keep on giving to charity." Suture nodded enthusiastically clearly hoping she had helped Rainbow see the light. Rainbow leaned back into the chair sticking her legs out. Just a bit of her old affable and cocky demeanor coming back. "Not really my style, but I can respect that." Rainbow once again grasped the bits in her pocket as Suture began to work on cleaning her. "You know," She whispered to herself, "maybe some gods aren't so bad after all."
"Either god laughs or god cries."
-My college Anthropology teacher
The sun's ray's shimmered off the green waters of the bay a few miles away from Point Reyes. It was a rather clear day for the region even for spring, so as the only shelter available was under the various Monterrey Pines scattered across the Monastery's property. The last Abbot an almost skeletal Caucasian man whose snow white beard nearly touched the ground had wanted to try importing Bodhi Trees from India but after a few attempts it became clear that they wouldn't take in the cool wet climate save for the one in the center of the courtyard, which was nicknamed Oshbacher. Even from the rock gardens at the edges of the compounds it's top was still visible. A testament to a lot of love, and even more hard work put into keeping it around. The tree even acted as a sundial for one of the few places in first world which didn't allow smartphones, and tended to look down on ostentatious watches. The general consensus was that strict artificial time tables and constant stimuli weren't good for spiritual attainment or the soul in general.
Pinkie wiped her forehead after a few gentle but determined rakes which made little waves through the rocks before her. She liked Oshbacher, she'd even talk with him from time to time but she definitely liked the rock garden better. Maybe it was because of the solitude it afforded, maybe it was because it reminded her of a home she couldn't go back to. The thought of that home caused her arm to involuntarily shake, causing her to give a very unzen-like harrumph, she thought she had gotten so good at using them. She wondered if all humans had to deal with all these sudden jerks, after all they had so many joints. She'd send a letter to Twilight about it, she'd know not that she'd reply to her anytime soon. Nah, it was best to ask another one of the other members, probably Chen or Kaylie. They'd always indulge her with these requests, maybe she could even find a funny way to deliver it though props would be hard to come by and she doubted they'd let her near the art supplies unnoticed after what the Abbot referred to as her 'yama series'. All of which she personally requested be taken away as they reminded her of a very dark point in her life.
Little wonder that her first set of paintings here were rather gruesome. Blood, gore, and darkness shrouded images of humans being stepped on by massive hooves and little pink ponies being ripped to shreds. As she regained her sanity they got more complex, more symbolic culminating in a parade of equine shadows swimming through an upside down river of blood which poured into the upturned mouths of various wrathful deities. A lot of the other people there said she could keep at it, sell them and get more funding for the monastery but she didn't want anything to do with them. Even the thought of them caused her to frown.
Frown.
Pinkie knew this but it was still very easy to pretend she was supplying rocks to all those hungry earth ponies in Equestria. She wondered if her sisters were among those hungry ponies, from what little news she got things weren't looking too great there outside the cities. The EFF were everywhere and were doing constant raids on the citizens leaving whole towns afraid to leave their homes after dark. The Crystal Empire still had enough radiation to make Fukishima Daiyo look like an Amish Hamlet, the weather was going more and more haywire, and Ponyville was still under forty feet of rubble.
With a few noisy scrapes Pinkie was done, allowing her to step back and enjoy her masterpiece as the sun's rays just reached it. In her mind it was her greatest work yet, a smiley face complete with cheeks turned up as if to give it a slightly chubby appearance. The light of morning causing shadows which gave an almost tired look to the once gormless eyes of the face in the eastern rock garden. She knew her time was up, in more ways than one. That eventually she'd have to leave the safety of the monastery and try and work off some of her bad Karma before she kicked the bucket at the farm she just bought. It would be sad, and many would try and persuade her to stay. Almost everyone here was her friend, and they kept telling her how much brighter she made things around here, how inspiring she was, and how infectious her disposition was. But she needed to do more, sorting food donations every weekend and raising funds for the nearby children's hospital wouldn't cut it. She wasn't sure what would but she definitely knew that those would definitely not cut it. War Orphans, rebuilding cities, redeeming every last member of the EFF personally. Those are the kind of things that she needed to do or at least die trying.
Jacqueline Manzana grunted as she poured the slop in front of the eager hogs who surrounded her, her dirty hand wiping her sweat ridden brow colliding with a few strings of blonde hair pressed flat against her forehead. The brownish green sludge cascading like a mix between a magic eye poster and a waterfall into the simple wooden trough. Her grunt mixed with those of the hogs, and quite frankly she felt like they had more worthwhile things to say than she did anymore. In fact if she could give her ability to speak to the pigs, she was sure her life would be so much easier.
Unlike Applejack who was always prone to speaking her mind, sometimes to the point of insensitivity Jacqueline understood the value of silence. Silence kept her safe, kept her alive, it was the middle ground between lying which she'd never been good at and telling the truth which was no longer an option if she wanted to keep breathing. That was life, wake up, work breathe, really the only things she didn't seem to fail at. After the war, she found herself in an ESS camp 50 km north of Los Pegasus. At first she was overjoyed, surely they could help her, find a way to get her back to her old self without any of the... side effects that came with ponification. Yet instead of being met with cheers and pity she was met with shouts and aggression. None of the ponies believed her, at least none of the guards. She theorized the only reason they didn't kill or transform her on the spot was because one of the commanders thought must've realized that human hands were relatively useful in terms of labor. What was even worse is that while the guards did not believe her story about being the Element of Honesty, the prisoners very much did. Maybe it was because they weren't as blinded with ideology maybe it's because she sent several of them there herself and they recognized her voice. Either way the prisoners, those ponies said to prefer humans to their own foals didn't give her an ounce of sympathy or companionship. The first friendly faces was the U.N rescue team and even then they were only friendly because by then she had learned to shut her trap, and stick to yes or no answers. She only had to lie a couple times, but each time felt like a Rattlesnake bite on a filly's hoof.
After that she stayed in hostels, camps, shelters surrounded by other failures, screw ups and people and ponies too lazy to even try. She couldn't stay in them for long, taking hand outs from the enemy like that was threatening to crush what little pride she had retained. The least she could do was avoid becoming a fixture of one by constantly moving. Finding work wasn't too hard, thanks to the destruction of what humans called 'the third world' there was a major agricultural labor shortage so any person or pony with farm experience found themselves with no shortage of jobs. In terms of employment Jacqueline had the choice of every farm on earth or Equestria save for the only one she actually wanted to go back to. She knew she wasn't wanted there, not by Braeburn, not by Applebloom, not even by Granny Smith. She wouldn't even be surprised if Ma and Pa rose from the grave just to kick her out the minute she set foot on Sweet Apple Acres. Even the thought of it caused her to grimace as she dropped the bucket to the floor. The pigs circling around it desperate for more swill like now destitute Canterlot Nobles around one of the nicer U.N relief centers.
Her neck burned in the scorching Texas sun as she exited the shady paddock, just another reminder that she'd lost and that she wasn't even Applejack anymore. Dust clouds staining her already worn overalls which were unkempt even for work clothes. As Granny used to say "Ya make your pie, then you darn well gonna eat it." and right now this was the pie she had made. With mud, sweat, and shame being the primary ingredients. Jacqueline was so caught up in her daily self loathing that she almost didn't hear the sound of hoofbeats coming down the dirt road which led in and out of the farm. Yet these weren't the hoofbeats of cows, nor the gangly misshapen monstrosities humans called 'horses'. These were smooth, intelligent, deliberate steps, this was the sound of an Equestrian Pony.
She was smiling as she approached, but the sunglasses she wore seemed to give more than a hint of menace to her expression that made Jacqueline's blood run cold. Hinting that what could be a goofy grin was a in actuality a sardonic smirk caused by things Jacqueline couldn't hope to know.
"Howdy Partner." Said the mare clearly unused to the terminology, her voice carrying just a bit too much condescension. Jacqueline was frozen stiff at this point allowing for the Unicorn to continue with her introduction. "I don't suppose I can 'rustle up any grub round these parts'." Jacqueline had seen types like this, obnoxious city slickers who saw her and her ilk as jokes and tourist attractions. Who thought that any rural family poorer than them was inbred and were proud of the fact they couldn't tell a sheep from a goat. Still there was more, and while carpet bagging jerks irritated her this mare frightened her.
Jacqueline composed herself, standing up straight enough that some of the clumps of mud on her overalls fell to her boots. "Sorry... 'partner'." All of her dislike concentrated in the term of false endearment. "But we're a distributor not an outlet. So ya'll best check the local supermarket if you want food." Instead of turning away, apologizing or even getting mad all this managed to do was make the mare's smile grow wider. Jacqueline swore she could almost see distinctly non equine fangs in the maw that was approaching her face until the Mare's visage now obscured most of the landscape in front of her.
"Actually, I was hoping to get my hooves on some.. apples. Seeing as they used to be your specialty." Jacqueline froze, she knew. Was she here to arrest her? Because this is not how Jacqueline expected her arrest to go down, she expected loud noises, sirens, helicopters filling the sky like locusts as cavalcades of cop cars drew up dust like a herd of stampeding cattle. Hundreds of grim faced humans and ponies brandishing weapons and barking orders. While the thoughts certainly didn't bring a smile to Jacqueline's face, she had become resigned to the thought after dwelling on it for long enough. But this was different, this mare was toying with her, playing with her. Taking her time as if she didn't see the poor broken woman as a threat whatsoever. Then who was she? A Freedom Fighter sent to make sure she stayed silent for good? Or a pony out for revenge for her work with the ESS?
"Oh dear." She said with a overacted sigh, "Well if I can't get any apples, I guess I'll just have to settle for information." Her horn lit up, Jacqueline cringed. Even as a Pony who was no stranger to scrapping it out, Unicorns getting aggressive always made her uncomfortable. Now as a human with none of that earth pony strength or durability, that uneasiness had resurfaced as primeval terror as every breath seemed to get caught in her throat.
The mare huffed in frustration, "No Princess Diana. Of course I mean Celestia." The mare then began to circle her, in a manner that could only be described as predatory. It reminded her of those few awful times she had encountered timberwolves as a foal. One would circle around her, the others would stand just out of sight ready to catch the panicked filly in their splintery jaws.
Jacqueline wanted to get out of this, she wanted to run but she knew that wouldn't do her any good. She had no idea where Celestia was, and she doubted she was a good enough liar to convince her she did. Besides she could only imagine the repercussions that would come once this mare and whoever else she had been working for learned they were lead on a wild goose chase. "Ah-Ah don't know!"
The mare cocked a brow, her muzzle in a pout, "Honest?". To this all Jacqueline could do was nod as she hoped what little was left of her reputation could spare her from what her former coworkers called, 'enhanced interrogation.'. The mare sighed once more, "Of course you are. I should've known she wouldn't have reached out to you." before muttering to herself a few times. For once the mare sounded frustrated, it was obvious that at least part of her was expecting to come show up, make a big entrance and get exactly what she wanted.
Stephen Pike groaned as he raised another Painkiller to his lips, the sweet whitish yellow dribbling down his mouth as he sloppily slammed it onto the faux bamboo counter. It wasn't his first drink of the night and he truly doubted it'd be his last. Not only was this one of several drinks, but this was also one of several visits this week to this particular establishment. Before the whole 'conversion war' he would've seen this as a disturbing course, a waste of time and potential. At that moment, well he had nowhere to really put that potential besides down the gutter. After all what was an Archeologist specializing in Persian and Bactrian history to do when every unexcavated bit of both was probably vaporized along with a large portion of the world. If Stephen bothered to turn around, he'd notice quite a few other Archeologists, Anthropologists and Historians in attendance, doing the exact same thing. That too would have been normal, this was the unofficial 'explorer's club' after the one in New York became a photo op for techies but even then, it never reached this concentration in what he and many of his colleagues humorously dubbed 'the Before Times'.
Now destruction of artifacts during wartime wasn't anything new, museums and ruins got caught in the crossfire, sites got bombed, sometimes artifacts were purposefully smashed. All that was normal expected even, they mourned for a bit and moved on and tried to dig for replacements. This was different though, according to Physicists despite the general derision they faced among Stephen's crowd, there was nothing left. Even the deepest tombs, the most innocuous megalithic structures had vanished. Yes, there were still things in museums to be analyzed, documents to be compared, collections to be scoured to look for a treasure carelessly unrecorded but it wasn't the same. There would be no more Elamite seals, they never would find Aratta, and you could kiss any chance of figuring out just what the hell was going on at Nan Modal goodbye.
Still as bad as it was for Stephen and his ilk, he knew the anthropologists had it the worst. Not only were they bereft of material, but almost all of them were mourning. He could even tell them apart from the rest by how much they were crying after one drink. As he gazed at the tongue of the Maori mask above him, now a much rarer commodity, he wondered just how many hunter gatherer communities were annihilated. How many groups who didn't even know about the outside world let alone why they were being attacked by alien equines, who they probably didn't even know existed. How many were saved? Were planes even sent to the Sentinel Islands to evacuate the locals? Or were they too busy getting as many people, out of Sri Lanka and Nadu to care? The latter seemed much more likely given what he knew about history. It seemed even in a war of the words type scenario, non-industrialized groups still got the short end of the stick.
Stephen's dark musings were cut short as the door opened, another lost soul wasn't really all that shocking, but this one seemed to have hooves. The entire place went quiet, sardonic laughter and bitter complaints evaporated like water on hot cement, only to be replaced by murmuring and muttering. Normally people in his area of the academic woods prided themselves on tolerance and sensitivity, all in the name of peace and understanding among mankind. But this visitor was once against mankind, and the alcohol was making them even less sympathetic. It was a surprise the pony didn't get jumped the minute she walked in.
It was a bigger surprise that with a great deal of effort the pony, who Stephen could now tell was a mare decided to sit next to him. Her body contorting and struggling as she jumped and clawed her way up to the stool with heavy breaths. Her hair was dark, her fur an unremarkable tan for a race that seemed to pride itself on technicolor tones. Not only that but her fashion sense was abysmal, dressed in a way Stephen could only describe as a mix of Dracula and a Cartoon Grandma. With big broken looking red glasses just to make her look even worse. If Stephen was in a jokey mood he'd ask if wearing this was some form of punishment.
"IT'S MARTINI YOU FUCKER!", Slurred one of the customers, no doubt an anthropologist judging by the state she was in, her friends having to shut her up and physically restrain her. He questioned why anyone or anypony would go into a Tiki Bar and ask for a Martini but judging from his experience with most ponies' knowledge about earth, he doubted she knew what a Tiki even was. Not that Stephen felt like explaining at the moment. Admirably the Bartender nodded telling her that she'd see what she could do clearly relieved she no longer had to face the crowd.
"So." The Mare said awkwardly, clearly aware of the general mood yet still smiling in a conciliatory fashion, "I Heard this is sort of THE spot for human archeologists.". Stephen didn't respond instead focusing on his drink, he wasn't the type to get violent, but he wasn't going to be her friend either. Sensing the silence, the mare continued to speak, "I can really see why though I mean it's really... uhh. cultural." Yes, decor planned out by white guys in the 60s who couldn't even point to Tonga on a map sure was 'cultural'. Stephen still didn't respond, "You know I'. uhh actually used to be an archeologist myself.". That was, well that was shocking, he didn't even know ponies had historical sciences. He always just sort of assumed Celestia pulled a Kim Jong Un and dictated what history was.
"Yeah." She said, tapping her hoof against the countertop, "It's even my Cutie Mark.", a blush present on her face. The words sat in Stephen's head before something odd hit him. Why exactly would a Mare desperate to be acknowledged as a Shovelbum hide her Archeology tramp stamp? Usually ponies were ass naked, and almost always eager to brag about how easy finding a career was when the universe itself gave them help. Stephen grunted, that was another thing he hated about most ponies, how easy they had it. Not only did they seem to get everything handed to them on a silver platter but they despised other races because they had to actually struggle to survive.
"Listen I.. I get why you don't want to talk to me." She said dejectedly, "If things had been on the other hoof I'd feel the exact same way. I can't even imagine what it's like for you guys. I mean I'm lucky there's still a few Griffin and Minotaur sites in Equestria."
Griffins, "That's odd, I always figured a pony archeologist would be mainly interested in ponies." He decided to leave that he assumed she was a glorified propagandist out. It was rare for anyone to really focus on studying the history of a group seen as inferior or the enemy who didn't at least feel some sympathy for their objects of research.
"Oh no, Pony material culture is honestly my weak point. It just seemed so, so boring after Clover the Clever." She laughed to herself slowly realizing the ridiculousness of the situation. Stephen didn't let her see it but a small smile began to form on his face.5
"You know they say here that those who don't learn their history are doomed to repeat it." There was still a bit of edge in his voice but it wasn't the only component.
The mare shuffled around awkwardly though with a shy smile, "Yeah I know, but we don't really have places like this where I come from... So I'm not really sure what to get."
"Why do you think I'm an archeologist?" Stephen asked, his tone getting just a bit more inquisitorial as he pushed his drink aside towards the head of a guy already passed out.
"Central Asian mostly, a bit of Mesopotamian and Indian just for context. But Iran and Afghanistan are really my bread and butter."
"Oh." Her tone grew more somber, "Those places are gone right?". Stephen simply nodded his mood also soured, especially as she didn't seem to apologize. "C-can you tell me about them?"
Stephen pondered this for a second, on one hand this was a perfect opportunity to tell her off, really drive that guilt in. On the other hand, it was rare that he got to talk to another person in his business now about anything besides the state of misery they were in. Besides, maybe she wasn't that bad... for a pony. "You know what?" He said, "Buy my next drink, and I'll tell you all about it." He turned to her, their eyes meeting for the first time in a non hostile manner, "By the way, what's your name?"
NOTE BEFORE ANYONE ON EITHER SIDE GETS THEIR NIPPLES IN A TWIST: This story does take place in Israel but it specifically takes place in Safed in the Galilee. An area that's been predominantly Jewish since before the first crusade. Regardless of your opinions on the Israel Palestine crisis the jews have just as much of a right to be in Safed as the Mandeans do to be in the Iraqi marshes
Rabbi Yhitzak Nahum's Sunday began like almost every other Sunday, with a mild hangover. It wasn't that Rav Nahum was an alcoholic or at least not on purpose, it was just sort of hard to stay sober as a very well liked Yeshiva teacher and Baal Shem (analogous to Shaman) who tried to be in touch with his students and community. He had a lot of gratitude points stored up and the place most accepting of said points was the local bar+. Not that he ever complained, his wife had perished long ago, and his son much more recently in the war so he really didn't have anyone else to do Havdalah with besides his students and their families. After a garbled morning Shema spoken through parched lips Rav. Nahum reached for his phone, an old Nokia flip unceremoniously thrown across the sheets. The messages were as expected, gratitude, minor favors, legal interpretation. After a minute of this slog, he was almost tempted to put the phone away and go for a morning walk down to the cafe near the old olive farm, until his finger landed on a very different set of messages. All of them were In big capital letters with only one word in the title, 'Exorcism'.
Of course, it just had to come to his attention before breakfast, not that these things could really wait. He supposed it was his curse as the only Baal Shem in town who owned and checked his phone. Apparently, a shirtless stranger was running around town and accusing random non-frum inhabitants of having PER sympathies. Usually if someone came to him claiming they or a loved one were possessed he'd tell them to see a Psychiatrist, especially if it revolved around an understandably traumatic event. If it actually was a spirit the Psychiatrist would send them to him, and he'd get started. But according to witnesses, poltergeist activity followed this man like dogs followed a sloppy butcher. When he was a younger man this would've excited him, now it was just tiring. Supernatural threats happened all the time, especially in an old and mystical place like Safed, everyone here believed in it even if they didn't keep Halakah or Sharia. So, one would think they'd learn how to take care of things themselves, but alas they didn't.
Still, it seemed this wretch had a dybbuk, and a Dybbuk was very different than a demon. Demons were for the most part rather stupid things, not very complex in there wants and reasoning. Something that was expected of beasts created as grunts or through unguided Psychic turbulence. A Dybbuk was a person, a disembodied human soul, one that though crazed and desperate still had enough intelligence to make them very dangerous. The fact that this one seemed to have an agenda, and preternatural knowledge made him much more worried. Worried enough that his Tefilin were crumpled and uneven as he walked past his humble abode and toward the ruins of a block destroyed by Luna's troops on their way towards her final battle. Recently it had become something of a memorial to those lost in the war, a bitter reminder to temper the sweetness of life for those who survived.
A crowd had already gathered around the building, it was so thick that the only sign of the demoniac were his crazed shouts in English. Clearly, he was making quite a big show as those who knew the language were rapidly translating to the best of their ability to the audience. "YOU HAVE DAMNED US, THOSE AMONGST THEE WHO YOU CALL FRIENDS HAVE SOLD OUT THEIR BRETHEREN!", the voice was an unearthly wail, the man's hoarse rasp overlayed with an inhumanly loud woman's contralto. As Rav. Nahum pushed past the stunned and mesmerized crowd he got a better look at the man. He was young, short hair, thin face gaunt with hunger, and an overall Sephardic look about him. His only clothing was a pair of tattered blue-jeans which stayed on through sheer tightness as he alternated between bipedal stumbling and a hideous crawling movement.
The figure pointed at a woman, a local artist lured here from Tel Aviv by the 'Kabbalah Craze' of the 2000s, his voice switched to an old Cordovan dialect of Hebrew. "SARAI FREIDMAN, IN THE ANONYMITY OF THE INTERNET THOU HAST GIVEN THY SUPPORT TO HUMANS IN LEAGUE WITH CELESTIA! YOU HAVE TAKEN COMISSION FOR THEIR WORKS, YOUR HANDS ARE RED WITH BLOOD MONEY." Sure enough, poor Sarai's hands became covered in thick oozing blood causing her to scream and faint, probably shouldn't have gone to see a possession case if she had those kinds of reactions. If he was interpreting its antiquated linguistics correctly, then she was most likely talking about art Sarai had been commissioned to make posters for PER Jerusalem. This was before the war of course, but even then, it was an act that left her reputation here somewhat tarnished.
One by one Rav Nahum found his students and coworkers and pulled them to the front with him, a few civilians now hiding behind the holy human shield. A good exorcism like many other complex tasks took more than one man, ideally it should have at least ten and said men should know what they were doing. In his heart of hearts Rav. Nahum was confident that he truly had brought ten men with him. Most of them students trying and failing to hold up images of bravado for each other, and a few befuddled older men with long bears. Their mouths hanging open as they didn't expect something this bad. Indeed, the only one who seemed to have an heir of true determination to him was a student named Benjamin who had the unfortunate genetics which barely enabled him to grow a beard even as an adult. At the moment Benjamin seemed to be his shadow, and the second line of defense if anything happened to him. With heavy steps Rav. Nahum approached the demoniac until he stood face to face with the mad creature. Its head swiveled with inhuman agility towards him, it's only response being an inhuman screech. As if it was trying to make noises not meant for the primate vocal chords which it was using.
"Ma'am.", Said the Rabbi, making sure to address the entity currently in charge, "What is your business in possessing one of the sons of Adam who still breaths upon this earth?". The Dybbuk gave a snort and shakily stood on its legs, body swaying in the breeze but feet anchored to the floor.
"I am doomed to Gehenna! yet traitors such as the one I inhabit go unpunished!" Its body lurched into the light, the blood from a bitten tongue that dripped from its mouth becoming clear for a moment. Then, the Dybbuk once again fell upon all fours and slowly crawled backwards away from the Rabbi. "Where is the justice in that?" its voice was quieter but no less hateful as it slunk back further into the shadows of a chunk of wall held clumsily aloft by iron rebar. From what Rav. Nahum could gather this woman most likely fought in the war for earth, did some rather unsavory and unnecessary things in defense of her species, and found herself floating earthbound and suffering until she had served her time. Dead soldiers were always the hardest especially when the war itself was just, even if there actions in it were not.
The Dybbuk began to circle the two men, Benjamin seemed ready to spring but Rav Nahum's hand stopped, his protege. One of the things a lifetime experience taught you is that more could be done with dialogue then exorcistic formula. "And what of this man? What did he do that caused someone who given her life for mankind decide to harm a human like this?". Usually it was adultery or breaking religious violations, very good sins to vent on as many bad people didn't do both, or at least thought they didn't. Right now though, he doubted either was the case
"This beast." The Dybbuk spat out those words in a spray of blood and spittle, "Tis not fit to be called a man.". "He hath taken the minds of the youth, he hath given poison to the mouths of mothers and babes against their will, yet refused to drink of it himself."
Rav. Nahum turned to look at his compatriots, the laugh clearly taking away some of what little resolve they had in the first place. "And what did this man do for you?" He asked, making sure his voice remained calm and even so as not to betray fear or anger. Things that could no doubt make him quite vulnerable to the spirit's machinations.
An equally chilling, "Everything." was the only response he got from the spirit. He gave the Dybbuk a disappointed stare and reached for his anointing oil and prayer book. Ceremonial gestures he didn't intend to use quite yet but that nonetheless showed he was very much in control of this situation. The Dybbuk sighed, "Information, transport, he told us the weak points and led us to them. It was him who made it so we could get past thy fabled 'dome of iron'."
The Dybbuk rose, not stood up but levitated, for a moment a flash of blue light and in the shape of phantom wings formed around it before it came falling back to the ground. An eerie, bitter smile still lodged it's face. "We were a god. Once-.". Normally this talk was reserved for arch-devils and sorcerers, but what would they care for the destruction wrought by the conversion war? From what he knew the cults of that like were prone to infighting and he doubted they'd cow-tow to the ponies. No, there was only one option, and she was definitely not human.
"No." The former Princess said in a much calmer voice than before, "Why would you help a creature so base who went unpunished?" The last part showing those old hints of anger.
"We are atoning!" Luna roared, taking a swipe at him likely intended more to intimidate than harm, "WE ARE PUNISHING HIM FOR HIS SINS, SOMETHING YOUR YAHWEH HAS FAILED TO DO FOR EONS." Alright blasphemy too now, but to be fair she was a gentile and most likely didn't know any better. If he remembered rightly the PER guy was Jewish but at the moment someone else making him to Adonai's name in vain was probably the least of his karmic worries.
"But are you truly making the world better by doing this?". With a flicking gesture the nine other men began to surround the deceased lunar tetrarch. She didn't seem to notice as her rage was focused on him and not the other less experienced members of the motley Minyan. "Is all you wish to do cause more harm?". She roared at him, tears of blood squirting from the mans eyes as obscenity after obscenity at him exited her host's mouth. Comments about his love life, his manhood, his family, his religion, anything she could latch onto she hurled at him as hard as she could in her blind fury. As the rest of the Minyan began to chant and she began to involuntarily writhe he realized just how bad he felt for her. Here was a creature... no a woman so consumed by guilt, anger and self hatred that she tried to avenge her own sins on any person she found who could help her. Very few people were born raving madmen, or diabolical tyrants, and he suspected the same of ponies, and though she didn't want to admit it the wounded child was showing.
Rav. Nahum's mouth began to follow his comrade's chant while he studied the aura which was flowing from the man's body. To anyone else it looked as if the man was being assaulted by a neon blue cloud, but to one whose eyes had grown accustomed to the Ynne Velt the picture was much clearer. Beyond the bullet holes, swirling mane and snarling mouth Rav. Nahum saw a scared filly putting on a mask of aggression. What she truly wanted was attention, acceptance, love and forgiveness most likely from her older sister Celestia. In fact, it was quite possible that the only reason she went along with the war was to win the approval she felt she desperately lacked. Thinking that if she delivered the Holy City to her sister on a silver platter she'd finally feel worthy in Celestia's eyes. Rav. Nahum had no idea whether Celestia purposefully played on these feelings but he had his suspicions if what he read about her had been true.
"What are you going to do to me?" She squeaked clearly terrified for what he may have had in mind for her. Even though she no longer possessed a circulatory system she was still shivering. Both from the constant cold of a dead sinner and the sheer terror of her situation.
"I'm not really sure." He said stroking his rather prodigious beard, hands tracing the many paths of grey amidst the black. "You can't pass on yet, but it appears to me you're almost as much Celestia's victims as the people you killed.". Then a thought came to him, it was not uncommon for a Baal Shem to 'sponsor' a earthbound soul and shorten their sentence. Both as a good deed and as a way to get a bit more supernatural strength on their side. He was pretty sure there was nothing about written about not being able to do it for a pony, or at least nothing clear about it. In that moment he reached out his hand to Luna's face stroking its misty contours. "Actually,", He said with a warm smile, the first Luna had seen since before the war, "I think I may have an idea."
Author's Note
J Jewish Terminology List
Tefilin=Ritual prayer shawl
Lilin=Vampiric succubus or night hag
Dybbuk=Possesing ghost
Minyan = Group 10 adult Jews usually gathered for a ritual purpose.
Ynne Velt=Spirit world
Nefesh=analogous to ectoplasm
Kaddish=Prayer for the dead
Hypostasis of the Archons
Clack Clack Clack, those were the only sounds that filled a room which though illuminated by sickly purple light, was so dark one could barely see the size or shape of it. If anyone else was in the room the only thing visible besides the computer would be the hunched over figure of a woman, hands moving across the keyboard like lightning streaking in the sky. Though her eyes held a clear intelligence under the continually foggy glasses there was an even stronger mania that seemed to cause her whole body to shake as she opened file after file. Her eyes were baggy, a testament to the many time she forgot to sleep doing exactly what she was doing at that moment.
Said theoretical anyone else could also notice a considerably large pile of books, though they'd need quite good eyesight to see just how... eclectic the collection was. The likes of Penrose, Ramachandran, Hawking and Rovelli were mixed randomly with much more obscure books. With titles such as The Goblin Universe , The Book of the Damned ,The Eighth Tower ,The Serpent Gives life the Serpent Kills , and an absolutely archaic volume simply titled A Compendium of Gnostic Mythology . All of which, even more than the more traditional science books seemed to have more yellow notes than pages.
Most people would say that these books and files were a rabbit hole, one that Twilight was throwing herself down in an attempt to block out the pain. Twilight, on the other hand would tell you that this path of research was anything but comforting. It was an intellectual Dante's Inferno. One she had thrown herself into the moment she decided to follow Celestia in the war, and like the great Tuscan Poet she had a feeling she wouldn't like what she found at the bottom. Sometimes she wondered if she could get away with editing her findings to her 'un superiors' for their sakes if not her own.
After all they graciously let her continue to use her brain as long as they controlled how. She even heard one loud American agent call her a one-woman operation paperclip. The implication of course being that other Equestrian researchers and inner circle members weren't as privilege. She had her suspicions of course based on ideas of poetic justice, but she didn't dare question exactly where all the new neuro-anatomical data on Unicorns was coming from which were such a great help to her research. Or what was being done to who to find it out. She knew that the humans had been surprisingly gracious with many low level members of the regime, but besides the elements and a few public executions it seemed that most of Celestia's cabinet had.. disappeared with very little comment. But that data did do wonders, it helped restore quite a few new-foals mentally if not physically. Right now they needed therapists, and Twilight needed therapy just as much as them.
It was actually the mental reconstruction studies that started off this darker path of inquiry from two rather innocuous seeming facts. One, Cutie Marks were mental and could change with drastic mental shifts, and two Ponies seemed to be much more influenced by the Psychic background field than they influenced it. The latter bit got even more interesting when the subject of ghost stories came up, when Twilight was asked she admitted that she didn't know many and that for a land of magic Equestria was oddly ghost free. That sparked a conversation about Stone Tape, the government had known about it for a while about it, but it seemed to be almost devoid of practical applications, something that seemed to be the case with a lot of Earth's magic. The other researchers of course, dropped the subject and shifted to other things but the question still hung in Twilight's head about why this was the case. And so she did what she always did and dug in.
In Equestria on the other hoof, it seemed that the ley lines actually radiated out of the sites like spider webs. Each line being relatively short and seemingly optimized to connect with the next settled area. Most of which seemed to store up energy and release it in quick pulses as opposed to a continual flow. With the main hubs on the continent being The Crystal Empire, Canterlot, and the Everfree. Now that Twilight was open to such concepts, she had to admit that compared to Earth's, they looked almost... artificial. Yet that wasn't all, the way ponies and humans interacted with the psychic background field were almost the exact opposite. Ponies it seemed were quite influenced by external magical forces in both their way of thinking and their behavior, allowing things like involuntary magical corruption or purification by outside forces. According to Dr. Grey Matter, this was because ponies apparently outsourced quite a bit of processing power to their auras so as to leave space for eyes big and sensitive enough to detect thaumic fluctuations. It's why ponies also rarely got brain damage. Humans, it seemed influenced their environment with little influence on themselves being subtle feelings, save for cases of outright possession. This was showcased by just how erratic earth's magic was, as it only had a chance to unify after the thoughts were sent out. In simple terms , Equestria's magic was a slow feedback loop, Earth's was a chaotic clusterfuck held together by physics, the collective subconscious and social consensus.
As Twilight began to look further and further, now already accepting the idea that Equestria if not pony-made was heavily terraformed came to some darker conclusions. If ley lines were the main source of free atmospheric magic, and the hub was in Canterlot then the ponies there could potentially influence the energy patterns flowing through the ley-lines branching out. from them. Perhaps not in large ways but for an effect with a net that wide it didn't have to be, just planting an emotion or vague sentiment could do wonders. Of course, it would take an entire city acting with complete coordination to achieve the power necessary to do such a thing, but it could also take an Alicorn with a few powerful back up mages. When she came to this realization Twilight felt her heart stop. It was no longer a matter of whether Celestia was controlling them but rather how much? How much of Equestria's blind devotion was a milder form of the same brainwashing used on the New Foals? Was the restraint a matter of ability, or a matter of principles on the part of Celestia? More importantly was Celestia being controlled herself?
After Discord's escape and Chrysalis's invasion, Celestia had started to seem a little off. Not like she was being mind controlled but as if her focus was drifting somehow whenever she was in Canterlot. It was almost like she was in silent conversation with a partner that no-pony else could see or hear, staring off into space before quickly trying to save face with forced frivolity. This was not to say Celestia wasn't complicit in her actions, far from it, but it began to look more and more like she wasn't the sole planner, or perhaps not the main planner at all. Twilight had no idea who this planner was, and almost she wished she didn't know there was one, she knew it was too late to stop. She knew, she was complicit and if this thing... whatever it was still existed it was her job to destroy it before it found a new collaborator. That was it, her life's goal now, her only path to redemption.
At first it was hard getting the other researchers let alone the top brass to listen to her, after all she was the enemy only a couple years ago. But wars, especially strange ones make ponies jumpy and it seemed that humans were the same. All it took was some compelling data and some calculated fear mongering and she had started a multi nation crusade against an enemy that may not even be conscious let alone sapient. Most of what was left of Equestrian Military intelligence had been running various, 'Geologic surveys' on the Canterhorn. The official reasoning being to make sure the volcano wasn't reactivated by the dimension shift. Though any geologist worth their salt would be at least a little suspicious just how many bits they were throwing into a 'geological survey'. Not much had come of it yet, but there were a few reports of Crystalline fossils resembling Alicorns and Draconequii.
While the efforts to find her in Equestria were heavy handed and overt, the ones on earth were a lot more subtle. There she may hide with sympathizers but if she was in human territory, she'd have to be sneaky. And any large armed forces presence would just alert her to, just how close they were. Instead, she relied on lone agents, at most groups of three. Humans and Ponies who though lacking in number made up for it in skill and sheer murderous intent. Many of whom though competent were barely psychologically stable themselves. Not that anyone whose job consisted of hit jobs and rooting through garbage around the world would be.
Though Twilight did not turn she knew that right now, a very tall, very blue Unicorn was right behind her. Her face in a cocky sardonic smirk barely concealing a burning rage, and a pair of aviators worn even in the darkest nights. Of these spies and mercenaries, she was perhaps the the most dedicated, if not the best. Twilight had no idea what her grievance with Celestia was, and she doubted she'd talk, all she knew is her hate for the solar princess ran deeper than the Marianas trench.
Author's Note
If you've been paying attention to last chapters then you'll see what's happening.
Garment of light (Part 2)
8 Months Later
Sweetie's production of Jesus Christ Superstar was not only a hit, in the small world and relatively unglamorous world of American off Broadway remakes it was quite possible to call it the Hit . And if the show in Palo Alto was anything to go by in a years time it might very well be on Broadway. Yes, there was some controversy in depicting a religions Lord and Savior as a pony, but the play had never really been... non heretical to begin with unless the person watching was truly not paying attention. Besides, the fact that they had Jesus portrayed as a Mint Green Unicorn with Pilate and Herod as the tallest white Unicorns they could find made the political overtones relatively obvious to anyone or anypony watching. In fact, it would be fair to say that was the main appeal according to the press. Just how well they made an over 50 year old musical speak so close to today's audiences.
It was hard at first, giving up a crutch that at that point had replaced her spine as her main means of support. In fact if you asked her during the first week, she'd have described it as torture. Being locked in an apartment, her mind clearing to what she'd done, no one else there but her sister and her own horrible thoughts. She couldn't sleep and barely ate, what little she did at Sweetie's command she often threw up later. It was hard not to throw up when your own blood's natural consistency felt like an alien substance. She said things too, rather horrible things at that, that she hated her sister, she hated humanity, that she wanted to die, and that she wasn't sorry for what she did. Of course besides the wanting to die part she didn't mean any of it, but she needed to get her sister to stop caring. To abandon her like the wretch she was and let her slowly die in alcohol's deadly embrace. Fortunately for her now, her sister saw right past this and kept on pushing her, telling her that she knew Rarity was better than this. That she was still an element of harmony despite how much Rarity protested.
Things got better after the suicide attempt, not that the phrase 'after the suicide attempt' was that possible to begin with. Maybe it was seeing just how low she'd fallen, maybe it was how broken she realized her sister would be without her, may she just realized she lacked the courage to face what might be on the other side. It didn't matter, after that she fully committed to becoming sober despite knowing just what it entailed. Yes there were still panic attacks and the occasional guilt and terror induced vomiting fit but the insults stopped and somehow, every time it stopped, she felt... better. Now over half a year later, it'd be hard to recognize the elegant artist as the shaking wretch who had tried to pull a knife on her own jugular. True, her eyes still wandered with wistful envy whenever she saw anypony else enjoying a drink but she it was growing less and less severe with every time. She suspected that by next summer that desire would practically be gone.
Despite the show's acclaim and rail thin security, the cast and crew managed to walk out relatively unmolested. As usual the celebratory joint for Rarity and Sweetie Belle would be an Ice Cream parlor seeing as a bar was the last place any of them would want to go right now. Surprisingly, a fair bit of the cast and crew came with her in support forgoing the more traditional bar and grill. Including Jesus and Saint Peter, both of them still in costume which was an oddly impressive thing to do on the surprisingly cold February night. It was also the kind of thing Sweetie Belle would normally throw a fit over, but at the moment she was too over the moon to care and so was Rarity for that matter.
If any member of the group had not been blinded by fame's shining light, they would have noticed the dark green unicorn mare pushing through the crowd towards them. She wasn't easy to notice, her body was short almost chubby and overall unimposing, which is perhaps how she managed to get by with merely a few curses and complaints as she made her way towards her target. The Unicorn mare broke into the clearing in front of the group, her bulging eyes clear focused on Rarity. Their redness merely exaggerated by the torrent of sweat that clung to her forehead. Her body was hunched like that of a feral predator as opposed to a sapient Equine. The thespians paused, Rarity reached out her hand, "Ma'am can we help you-". Before she could finish she was on the ground, the mare was on top of her, and she was in excruciating pain.
All she could make out beyond the beating of her own heart and the general atmosphere of horror were the cries of the mare, "ผู้ฆ่า! ผู้ฆ่า!.". The mare screamed with every ragged breath, only stopping to plunge the knife into a new spot on Rarity's torso. Then mid slash there was a loud bang, the mare's eyes rolled over, and she fell to the concrete spasming. That was all Rarity could see, unable to put together what was happening as the world faded to blackness.
Rarity lived, apparently Jesus really did save as the pony playing him had a decent bit of medical knowledge. At least enough to keep her alive till the ambulance came. By all estimations she'd be out of the hospital in a couple weeks, luckily for her it seemed her assailant was too unhinged and uncoordinated to actually hit any essential organs. The papers wouldn't report on who her assailant was or why she did it. No one would know the story of the mother in Thailand changed against her own will, her body used to gleefully kill her husband and children once it became clear changing them would prove too costly for her new superiors. Or how she wept when her mind returned, how she slept on her family's grave for weeks choking on the thick moist air after her tears had run out. They'd never hear about how she sold all her belongings and traveled to a country whose language she didn't even speak for the sake of avenging her loved ones on those she deemed responsible. Or the butcher in a Manhattan Chinese deli who gave her the knife free of charge after learning of her story and intentions and who never faced justice himself. Instead, like millions of others she'd simply be known as another lost confused soul desperately lashing out at those who managed to move on.
A group, or rather two groups of men and women meet in a darkened room their gazes firmly fixed upon each other and showing very little good intent. The groups themselves cannot have looked any more different, one was almost entirely male and decked out in a brownish grey camo. The leader of this group was a balding Caucasian man with a pencil thin mustache his facial features more reminiscent of a vulture than a man, his dirty blonde hair hinting at having once been pale but now his skin was tanned and leathered like a handbag. So did his blue eye, as his other was covered with an eyepatch as if to make him look more sinister. The other group was more mixed though their uniforms, best described as techno-gothic morph-suits made race and gender hard to tell. The only exception was their leader, she wore the same suit but her head remained uncover revealing luscious blonde locks. "We thank you General Leuchter, with these minerals the Red Ghost Corps will soon be close to achieving their objectives." She held out a briefcase clearly expecting him to take it.
The man laughed, a sinister glint as two men came rushing up, both hoisting up a golden idol. "Of course Miss," His voice was raspy and with an almost Dutch accent, "I just hope your Devil's kingdom has enough room for the little old White state of Borodia.". The woman smirked and nodded as she handed him the briefcase, the military leader greedily snatching it like the bird of prey he resembled. In an instant he opened up the briefcase clearly expecting something, only for his face to drop as he realized it's empty. "What's the meaning of thi-" Before the generic fascist officer can finish his sentence a massive puff of smoke fills the room.
In the center of the room stands a thin silhouette, an almost simian laughter is heard. The smoke clears, the man is wearing a garish red jacket and bright yellow tie, his face is just as simian as his laugh. He's now holding the idol in one hand. The woman and the generic evil army man turn to him flabbergasted, "LUPIN!", both of them hammily shout in unison as the screen cuts to the three of them.
"You should be dead!" Cried the woman her voice now beyond angry as what little decorum left kept her from throttling him on the spot.
12 year old Hope and 9 year old Tammy are momentarily distracted from their weekly peak into the life of a heroic gentleman thief by a stranger at the door. After the third Knock Hope gets up relatively sure that it's not a solicitor or the cops. Her dad was there and he was a strong pony who knew his way around firearms, so unless a Skinwalker was at the door she had nothing to be afraid of. Really the worst-case scenario would be that it was her other dad, who unlike Braeburn was not ok with the fact that she was letting Tammy watch her 5'o clock anime. Still being her age and use to a fair bit of harassment she wasn't exactly in a rush, as evidenced by another set up of knocks. "Ah'm coming!" She hollered, her voice an odd combination of Daddy's genteel Appleloosa drawl and Dad's Louisiana growling.
"Daddy!" She shouted into the house.
"What is it sapling?" Responded her father exiting his room still looking rather tired despite the fact it was the late afternoon. Oddly enough for someone clearly about to hit the hay he didn't seem irritated and there was a sense of good humor in his voice.
Hope turned again shouting even louder, "Some crazy homeless lady wants to see you!". Braeburn's face deflated it wasn't a big deflation, more like the kind you get when you realize you stepped in dog crap. With a sigh the Stallion trotted up to the door, his daughter clearly glad to escape from the vagabond's line of sight.
Braeburn cleared his throat, clearly this was a thought out routine, as a government servant working in the welfare sector, crazies seemed drawn to him. Mark used to joke about him being like catnip for the insane. "Listen... Ma'am." He said politely "I understand yer not doin so hot but right now ah'm off work, if ya need assistance I suggest ya call the people still workin."
The woman looked heartbroken, "Braeburn........ it's me." Her voice seemed familiar but the sheer stress and cigarrete induced rasp made it hard to place. "Don't ya remember?" Braeburn shook his head, clearly he was about to say that it's impossible for him to remember everypon-everybody he's worked with especially when half of them were online. "It's Applejack."
Braeburn's expression went blank, a cold chill went over his body as the realization hit him though the Stetson should've been a major hint. He turned to his kids, "Hope! Tammy!" The girls responded with a chorus of mhmms, both picking up on his obvious emotional distress. "I'm gonna be out for a while, don't open the door till I'm back in." Both girls gave another sign of obedience as he walked out and then kicked the door shut with all his strength.
The only thing keeping his sheer rage in check being his kids and the fact that he and Mark could barely afford another door. He walked towards the fence right next to the small apple grove planted more for nostalgia than economic utility. Right now he wanted her as far away from his house and in a place where could still legally kick her out violently if things somehow managed to get worse. Applejack walked up to him, his head turned away from her, "Braeburn." Her voice was sad but right now he wasn't feeling all too sympathetic.
"Braeburn." She held her arm in her other hand looking away like a dejected schoolgirl. "Ah know ya don't want me here."
"Ya think?" He growled his voice quieter than his last explosion but still just as angry, the excess anger flowing into his legs forcing him to pace.
Once again Braeburn exploded her meek body posture negating the fact that as a biped she had a good two feet on him. "And just why the buck should ah help you?!" His voice a quiet scream as he continued to corner the mare he once called cousin. "Why you out of all the people n' ponies on G-d's green earth would I help you."
Applejack looked mortified and a bit sad, how much of that sadness was self-pity and how much was legitimate remorse over a lost connection was up for debate. "Because.. because we're family."
"But that ain't all, ah can forgive ya for all that shit... but this ain't about me righ now. It's about every single pony whose life you cashed like a fresh check!" He swerved back adding just another element of choreography to their masochistic tango. "How many of em' had families, how many of em just said the wrong thing once and didn't even mean nothin by it?How many foals lost their parents? How many spouses lost their partners? Because of what ya did? How many of them were neighbors or friends, or KIN!?"
Applejack continued to back up from the furious Equine almost on the verge of the first tears she had in a long time, "Ah don't know."
"Now tell me.. cousin.. why ah should let a mare who almost drove a race to extinction knowing full well what I meant, and would sell her own granny for a couple bits anywhere near my family!? Shoot I should call the cops right now and watch em haul yer ass to jail!" He stopped with a heavy breath, gathering oxygen for his next tirade.
"But ya won't will ya?" Applejack raised her head the tears going from a flood to a trickle as she looked the pony in the eyes.
Applejack looked ecstatic "Thank you thank you so much Brae I just-"
"Can it, and don't think ah mean anythin by it, and when this is over ah want ya to hightail it out of here asap." Applejack swallowed what little pride she had left and followed the Stallion to his home. All while the Stallion mumbled and cursed his big heart and helpful nature.
“Are Equestrians an existential threat?” The question caught Kate Rubinian offgaurd to the point that she almost smashed the dish she washing into a million pieces against the iron sink. Especially as the question came from a pony of all things, specifically her roommate, a mid sized light green earth pony mare named prickly pear. Prickly Pear or Pear for short, was at the same college as Kate for the agricultural history masters program, with the two shacking up to save money on the exorbitant cost of housing in California. Pear wasn’t really that bad of a roommate, though true to her name she was usually rather aloof and unsentimental. Still at the moment she looked more downtrodden and depressive than Kate had ever seen her.
“What?” Asked Kate a bit stunned at the words used by this pony to describe her own species, barely managing to turn off the faucet as she walked over to her diminutive roommate. “Do you mean like the potion thing…?” She said in a desperate attempt to parse out just what the hell this gloomy little horse was saying.
“No not the potion technology, that is also an existential threat.. I mean Equestrians themselves.” She said eyes a mix of utter despair and hard willed steel.
“Uhhhh…. I’m not really sure how to answer that.” Said Kate as she sat bow legged next to the mare, her jeans still uncomfortably soaked from the 5 minutes of dishes prior to the start of this bizarre and one sided Socratic dialogue.
“How much do you know about Equestrian history?”
Kate shrugged feeling a bit guilty at her answer, “Basic stuff, unification of the tribes, griffin war, Starswirl, other than that not much.”
“Unfortunate.” Pear said with just a bit more of her trademark brusqueness. “Do you know why Equestrian doesn’t have a word for genocide?”
Kate now felt even more confused, and as an Armenian a bit uncomfortable, “Because you’re herbivores and therefore more peaceful?”
Pear shook her head as if lecturing a distracted child, eyes still staring off blankly into the distance. “Because it wasn’t seen as a war crime, it was just an accepted part of war.” Pear took perhaps her deepest breath yet, “As you probably know Equestria is…. Was a multi species planet with around 20 sentient races altogether. Many of whom are either relatively solitary migratory groups or exist in large multi species villages with the exception of various ceremonial sites such as Griffonstone. Because of this true nation states are relatively rare.”
Kate looked at Pear with equal parts nervousness and confusion. “I’m still not really sure where you’re going with this..”
Pear paid her no heed and continued her morose rant in a way that showed who she was talking to wasn’t important, she just wanted to be heard. “The on exception of this was Equestria.. which species wise is both the largest and most homogenous state on the planet. Despite a history of settlement by other species, sometimes predating ponies.”
Kate shook her head, “Let me get this straight… you’re saying that Equestria was built on Genocide?”
Pear nodded still not making eye contact “Precisely.”
Kate began to stroke Pear’s neck in an attempt to console her, “Pear… you do realize that America did the exact thing to its natives right?”
“That was due to arrogance and culture clash with the key idea being to displace, scatter and assimilate via hundreds of unrelated programs. The Equestrian founding was a single concentrated effort done for the purposes of ‘protection’.”
Kate's eye lit up, thinking that perhaps she found a trump card to stop her roomie's self deprecating nihilistic spiral. "What about Neanderthals? Us humans owe a lot to wiping them out."
"You bred with Neanderthals." Said Pear as if Kate was a complete idiot for not thinking about that, "They went extinct because you couldn't stop fucking them. The rest was just a mixture of resource competition and natural selection."
"Oh... silly me." Said Kate. Normally she'd think of a snappy comeback but Pear was much too distressed at the moment for Kate to pull that on her.
“Humans were not the first species that ponies had decided were ‘abominations’ that must be destroyed due to actual or theoretical threat potential, simply the most numerous and widespread. Beforehand we simply allowed them to stay outside our borders but with your technology and numbers that was not an option.”
“I-I’m sorry.” Kate said shaking her head, hands involuntarily streaking through the air, “But this is kind of hard to believe? Aren’t ponies supposed to be super peaceful? Y’know miniscule homicide rate, barely any violent crime? Wasn’t the reason that ponies wanted us gone in the first place was because we were so violent.”
“Not exactly,” Pear said with an emotionless whine, “Humans were perceived as incredibly dangerous due to your advanced weaponry and your tendency to go to war over miniscule issues. The Equestrian government saw this as a potential threat to their expansion and acted thusly, just like the Changelings when they were still led by Queen Carapice 700 years ago.” Pear awkwardly pawed the ground. “As for the niceness I can assure you it is only shared among ponies, due to our nature as herd dwelling prey animals in a world with inter sapient conflict we are quite collectivist by necessity. It’s the same reason why all ponies, as a general rule of thumb think ponies are friends, and all non ponies are threats, or beneath notice.“
Kate strummed her finger on the carpet eyes averted now that she was fully aware Prickly Pear wasn’t willing to make eye contact. “So basically, what you’re saying is that ponies are the Borg and the whole ‘potion slinging’ thing was inevitable.”
“That’s an unsophisticated way of saying it, but yes.”
Kate shook her head, “But that doesn’t make sense aren’t ponies supposed to be super peaceful? Doesn’t Equestria have only around 150 homicides per year?”
“Homicide is a crime of individual against individual, with ponies, violence is almost always an action undertaken by a mob. And mob violence done either out of fear or group interest is quite common… perhaps more common than any species that ever lived on Equus.”
Kate tried to speak but once again Pear continued on, “I’m not even at the worst part. Like all organisms, ponies are intent on growth and territorial expansion, but due to our ‘natures’ we will not splinter off into various factions if there is even the possibility of non pony races existing. Nor will we try to integrate or even form equilateral relationships with said races due to both our innate species wide collectivism and the cutie mark and tribe division of labor rendering them redundant. We also have a nasty habit of hoarding life saving knowledge and threaten withholding it to get our way, and will guard it with our lives. After all what’s a few hundred in exchange for the dominance of ponykind?”
‘The sun and moon’ though Kate, the horrible realization slowly sinking in.
“In short, I have come to the conclusion that the minute ponies reach a certain level of dominance, the extinction of all other sapient species is only a matter of time.” As she finished a few small tears began to form, staining the fur around her eyes a slightly darker green.
“I’m…uhhh. I’m not exactly sure what to say to that.” Said Kate awkwardly placing a well manicured hand on Prickly Pear’s withers.
“There’s nothing to say.”
Kate rolled her head back, admittedly she wasn’t exactly close with Prickly Pear, fitting name and all but still she was more a friend than an enemy and it hurt her to see anyone deal with that level of mental anguish. Even if it was hidden over by a mask of either trained or naturally occurring stoicism. “If it makes you feel better. Even after what you said I’m probably more likely to snap and kill you than the other way around.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I belong to a race of monsters.”
“Well.” Said Kate with a sad smile as she walked over to get one of the many lukewarm beers on the counter before returning to her seated position on the floor before downing it. “At least we can be monsters together.” Prickly Pear let out a small and uncharacteristic laugh that intermingled with a few choking sobs, maybe the sheer emotional overload let some of her real feelings get past that ever present stoic barrier. Kate simply took another sip of the stale lite beer and wrapped her arm around Prickly Pear, and for once Prickly Pear responded by leaning against her.
Prickly Pear smiled, "I guess. Let's just hope no more aliens show up and have to deal with either of our species." She said half jokingly. Kate was shocked.. prickly pear tell a joke? The shock of it made her laugh, and that made Prickly Pear laugh. A rare event that only made Kate laugh creating a positive feedback loop. Until it was just the two of them, laughing on the floor uncontrollably.
Author's Note
Long time no see, for the last few months I've been on a dig and doing grad school stuff so I haven't had much time for fanfics. Anyways, I've seen a lot of posts on how 'humans are way too warlike as a species' but I've never seen anything that looked at ponies that way. Besides I figure it'd give context to why Equestria would be willing to do what it did without just d
Garment of light (Part 1)
"HEIL HITLER." After this statement a tense silence filled the Aurora Community Theatre stage as around 18 people and two ponies dressed as Nazis stood stiff as a board in a minute long salute, yet there was no protest, or violence. Instead in the center stood a bisexual man of Vietnamese descent, playing a very stereotypically gay actor playing Adolf Hitler, bedazzled Swastika and all. The audience, the actual one immediately let out a few laughs. It was the general feeling in the air that this production of the Producers was incredible, to the point where it would be quite easy to forget this was in fact a community theatre production. The costumes were amazing, the acting incredible, even the choreography had an energy and life that was unseen in many higher budget shows it was like every little thing in the show was just perfect.
All of this for the most part was thanks to the work of one woman, who at that moment was currently watching the show in a mix of pride and anxiety. Her perfectly manicured nails almost going into her mouth as her body shivered. Her exquisite purple hair in a short but stylish bob cut which was getting more and more undone as she mouthed along to every line and lyric. This part was especially bad, after all as set and costume designer this was where her work would either get it's time to shine or come crashing down in flames. This was her, and several other's big shot, the way to crawl out of the ditch she was all too aware she had dug with her own hands, or at that point hooves. A ditch which many people and ponies much more innocent than her had fallen into.
"Rarity!" The high pitched hiss caused the woman to turn, her eyes locking on a white Unicorn Mare who looked tense enough to fold in on herself. Every hair in her mane not covered by her beret frizzed and frazzled with stress, exertion and stress. This was one of the ponies that she had dragged down with her, and one of the ones which she regretted most. Rarity got up from her stool gracefully as ever, before approaching her equine sister, though with a hint of clumsiness. She had to curtsy to make eye contact, now more than ever it seemed that Sweetie Belle would never get to outgrow her sister, "Rarity what are you doing?" Hissed the mare once more.
"Yes Sweetie belle." Crooned Rarity, her hands cupping the mare's squishy cheeks affectionately before lazily putting them to her side. Sweetie Belle's muzzle scrunched in response before shaking her head as if to regain some measure of adult independence. Something which clearly failed as it simply made Rarity giggle.
"Ulla's dress is torn and everypony else is currently playing 'the audience!'" Rarity nodded, she knew this was just stress not that she could ever blame her sister for being mad at her after all she'd done. This was her directorial debut after all, and if anything Sweetie was doing the favor for Rarity rather than the other way around. At the moment she was still sentenced to what may be a lifetime of community service, the nature of which she had almost no power over. It wasn't all bad of course, and she made sure to remind herself she deserved every bit of it but... but it hurt. It hurt not being able to put her skills to good use. To be picking up trash on the roadside while thousands of people and ponies went naked and cold, or worse were forced to walk around in those dreadful blue U.N ponchos and sweaters that seemed to fill the refugee camps which still filled the world. She had indirectly put those people through hell, the least she could do was make sure they at least looked good. In fact after a year, Rarity wondered if she'd ever get to work in a creative field again. Or if she even had the ability for that matter. Now that she had hands which could only hold at most two objects at once.
So when she learned that not only was Sweetie Belle going to be directing her first stage production for a non profit, but that she wanted to have Rarity help her. Well that was simply an opportunity she couldn't pass up. She didn't care what the play was, who was in it or what it was about, just the opportunity to sew something again. To see the strips of cloth and felt bring her sketches to life day by day, as she fussed and fretted over each seam. She had to do it, and damn it she had to do it good.
A desire to help Sweetie Belle succeed was also part of it as well, but she would be lying if she said it was the main reason. Of course she felt guilty, she understood it was selfish but she couldn't help it as she soaked in the sight of the racks of clothes which she passed on her way through the winding backstage corridors. To Rarity a life without the ability to create was like a life without food, it was the air she breathed, how she made a difference. How she should've left her mark on the world. How she should've left her mark on the world, sequins not suicides, couture not corruption.
Sweetie came to an abrupt stop, her coat making her blend in with the piles of cotton which filled the room. Coat racks and desks stuck out like flags and forts on a fluffy white no man's land. As her sister looked around frantically pulling dress after dress from the rack to find the right one, Rarity took the opportunity to lean down on a desk near the mini fridge. Her second Martini of the day was starting to ware off and she couldn't have that as she searched the mini fridge for any remains of last night's margaritas. She had to avoid sobriety at all costs while simultaneously avoiding being so drunk as to be non functional. Total inebriation brought nausea, and helplessness and sobriety was even worse. Panic attacks happened when she was sober, suicide attempts happened when she was sober. A smile crossed her glossy purple lips as her hand made contract with the plastic container filled with her salty liquid salvation. Yet when she looked up the dress was already on the table, along with a very, very upset looking Sweetie Belle.
"Sweetie Belle." She said in a conciliatory manner as she reached her hand towards the pony, only to have her hand batted away by a soft hoof. The tears were now starting to become clear, like little drops of diamond which left trails of soot on the white fur of her sister's muzzle.
"It was never about the show!" Snarled Sweetie, "All of this, all of this was for you! Why do you think I made this a non profit!? Why do you think I specifically went for original costume designs. I'm trying to save your flank and here you are, destroying yourself!" Rarity could only nod and whimper, maybe she should leave. Rarity began to turn around before Sweetie once again began to shout as she trotted alongside the woman. Caring not a bit if the cast and crew, performers or even the audience members heard her. "Hey don't you dare trot away from me! Did you even hear what I said?! I AM NOT! LETTING YOU! KILL YOURSELF!" Rarity stopped and felt something soft and wet collide with her leg. Below her was Sweetie Belle front hooves wrapped tightly around her as she buried her face in Rarity's stomach. At that moment, all Rarity could do was kneel down, nod and return the hug.
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Erebos (TW: Graphic descriptions of human on animal predation)
A bang, then the wet sound of bullets hitting warm flesh as time began to slow. Searing pain filling a body that was soon surrounded by cold, blood falling onto the floor and the feeling of hooves buckling and armor chinks stabbing against flesh. That was just one of the things Celestia felt as she shambled through the wilderness underneath the searing sun, the discomfort from it and her cut up feet being completely drowned out by her mental agony before it slowly abided, letting her body collapse into the tundra. For a few seconds there was silence, blessed silence, she took a few deep heaving breaths out of instinct though she no longer needed to. Then in a flash the voices started again, their impact on her like a jolt of lightning forcing her up from her brief moment of respite and into her same shambling walk. The messages were the same as they usually were, a few voices blaming her for what they did and declaring their total innocence. Some telling her how stupid she was for attempting what she did, some wailing over the fact that they were separated from their dead loved ones. Yet most were simple to the point of being monosyllabic, though just as effective. "Bitch!", "Your fault", "Murderer!", were a couple of favorites though others got more creative with their insults. Not that that mattered, the fact they were inside her meant she could feel their exact emotions when they talked to her.
Hate, hate, hate, that just about summed up how they felt about her. In the beginning she found them ungrateful, she was meant to be loved, to be adored and idolized by her wonderful perfect little ponies. For the first year she argued with them, screamed at them for their ingratitude for everything she did for them. She gave them a perfect society, superiority over the other species, and this is how they repaid her? The fact that she even helped them in the first place let alone didn't attack them should be cause for gratitude.
Next came wailing, loud sobbing wails at the universe at how she didn't deserve this and how it was truly mankind's fault. That was the one time she stayed still, sometimes laying down and writhing in misery for weeks on end on the cave floor she called home. But then the anger turned to mockery, she tried to convince them that goddesses shouldn't suffer instead it was the domain of mortals, this simply caused more mockery. As time went on, she soon began to realize that the worst part of her curse wasn't the anger, or the conflict, but the sheer fact the yelling didn't stop. Propensity for mental illness was once one of the reasons she considered mankind inferior and in need of uplifting, but now she was experiencing it firsthand. The noise was so great that her mind almost split, with one side processing the agony and another simply focusing on base needs such as her never-ending hunger. One that made her not only into an obligate carnivore but the most vile kind of carnivore at that.
The thoughts of hunger caused her to scramble harder, hands still clawing at the ground as hunger burned her stomach just as the rays of a sun, quite like the one she once controlled, burned her skin on all sides. The rags she had on barely offering protection as she began to climb the rocks in a shockingly ape like manner. Above her was a forest, Celestia wasn't that familiar with earth's ecology or geography, but a forest meant life, and right now life meant food. She hadn't drunk in quite a while, her last meal being a particularly slow deer she caught last week. Even in the respite of feeding, she never enjoyed the taste and most likely never would. It was a curse after all, and a thousand years of gourmet cooking certainly didn't help with the matter.
As she neared the top her ears, though weaker than those of a pony, heard a scurrying noise coming from a nearby crevice. With an awkward swing of her arm she scraped her body against the rough and cold rocks towards the hole, curling her toes tightly to make up for her now free hand. Her fingers, dirt encrusted and raw though still dainty felt blindly until a bite caused her to wince. She clamped her hand with catlike speed before pulling the squeaking, squirming furball out by it's thick tail. It was big, bigger than a Manehattan sewer rat but with a cleaner coat. In an instant she shoved it head first into her mouth, and bit right through its neck. Its blood gushed into her mouth as she alternated between gagging and lapping it up greedily, it's body continuing to spasm as nerves its fired their last pulses.
When it was finally dry, no longer twitching but dead and cold as the rocks she clung to she loosened her hand. The rodent fell unceremoniously landing with a muffled thud. The voices again mocked her or reacted with disgust, a few comments about all aristocrats being blood sucking parasites. She scratched at her face with her free hand before continuing to climb, the sharp and sudden pain distracting her as she collapsed onto the top of the small cliff. After a few minutes she got up and scanned over the horizon so as to make her the mare she had nicknamed shadow wasn't following her. She called this mare shadow not because of her dark blue coat but because she was almost always following her and lately, she had begun to get too close for what little comfort Celestia had left. She hissed and spat at the perfectly white vista in front of her, a purely ceremonial gesture to scare off her shadow but, nonetheless an empowering one.
She heard a noise, laughter....... human laughter. In a panic Celestia ran behind a tree so as to avoid detection, humans were monsters after all, so she could never be too careful around them no matter what harmony said. The first human came into view, it was small, foal sized and too bundled up to have any discernable gender. She hated seeing human foals, despite the illusion of innocence the fact that humans continued to breed was simply salt in her many wounds. She waited for the creature's parents to come as it gormlessly wandered around but as the minutes went by none came. The human foal was alone, and it had at least another weeks worth of blood.
She froze, would she really eat a creature barely out of its infancy? A small, buried part of her said no, that life was precious and that she should beat her enemies by being morally superior to them. It was a voice she had ignored for centuries, the voice that let Luna turn on her so of course she didn't listen. A more pragmatic side of her was worried about punishments, what if Harmony punished her worse? What if the child's parents found out? The voices too were against it, but they were against her anyways. She shrugged her shoulders feeling several torn muscles, it's not like things could get any worse.
It was daytime and no matter how rough and ragged she appeared she was still supposedly a beautiful woman, at least for a race as hideous as humans. She moved slowly towards the chubby cheeked youth, letting herself come into its focus. Its eyes met with her as she put on a smile that hopefully masked the sheer hunger and contempt, she felt for the thing that lay before her. Perhaps it worked, perhaps it didn't, either way the child stood still asking her questions nervously in it's squeaky voice. If she remembered rightly the language it was speaking had a name similar to 'rushing', unfortunately one she did not speak and never planned to. After all, like in Equestria beforehand, she would enforce a unified monolingualism on the populace so as to make things easier.
The child stood there still paralyzed as she got within striking distance, wrestling a large animal to the ground was rarely successful but this was still a babe that could easily be overpowered by a full grown woman. Soon she was towering over it, the child was now completely engulfed in her gracile shadow. She smiled once more, this time a more malicious one as she reached striking distance. She had them sized up perfectly, she'd pin them down and slash their throat to ribbons. Just as she was about to execute the plan the voices turned their disorganized insults into a screaming crescendo of anger. She reared up and screamed once more clawing at her body to get them to stop, her screams soon devolving into inhuman howls as the blood of her last meal dripped from her mouth. The child, of course ran off presumably back to their parents, all while Celestia fell to her knees in defeat, hands plummeting into the icy snow.