All the King's Horses

by Vanity

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad, Luster Dawn, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Cozy Glow, Starlight Glimmer
Length: 7967

The Great War's ripples spread through the world, shattering or steadying those they disrupt.

The settling of dust is so often perturbed by the second motions of its disturbance.

This is a series of one-shot tales about the aftermath of the events that took place in The Legionnaire.

Published 2021-12-05 02:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-12-11 22:22:09 UTC

I Still Love You

Featherfoot stepped off the Griffon caravan, the hippogriff holding up a claw in mock salute at the disgusted-looking Griffons at the head.

"Pleasure knowing you, ladies."

Featherfoot was, of course, not his real name. In truth, he had spent so long under his captors since he had been a hatchling, he did not remember the name he had once been given. Featherfoot had been the least derogatory of the slurs his tormentors had thrown at him, and it had become the only name he would respond to. To him, the past ten years of his life were as defining as his beak and wings, and he refused to allow anycreature to pretend otherwise.

Beside him, Emerald River leapt from the carriage and threw his arms around Featherfoot's shoulders, shooting the Griffons a smug, yet wary smirk. Leaning in, he whispered in Featherfoot's ear so that only he could hear.

"Let's go. I don't want to wait for them to change their mind."

The pair of them set off at a gallop with a burst of joyful laughter and cheers, and in seconds they had taken flight, soaring above the clouds and breathing in the sweet smell of fresh, free air for the first time in living memory. Slowing to a hovering stop, the pair of them stared at each other for a moment before Featherfoot threw himself at Emerald River, wrapping his claws tightly around him as he buried his head in his companion's chest.

"We... we did it." He let out a mixture between a laugh and sob into Emerald Stream's chest. "I never thought we'd get out. Not unless it was in a box."

Laughing, Emerald Stream pulled him back gently and ruffled his hair.

"Me neither. But I had you, and that's all I needed."

Their beaks met, and for a few golden moments, all was forgotten. There was only the whistling of the wind, the flutter of their wings, and the beating of their hearts in perfect unity. As they broke away, their claws remained locked together. It was Featherfoot who first broke that perfect silence.

"So... what now?"

"Whatever you want." Emerald Stream breathed, a big, stupid-looking grin on his face. "Wherever you want. Nothing's too good for my Featherfoot."

"Idiot." Featherfoot laughed. "Come on, we've no money, no food, nothing. Where else? We need to go back home."

"Home." Emerald Stream muttered the word as if it was something dirty. "Of course. I've just missed it so much."

"Emerald, don't. What have you got against home?"

"We... you... we can't..." He gestured pointedly. "Not back home. Not in public."

"Not in public." Featherfoot purred the last word, running a claw down Emerald Stream's chest that caused him to judder precariously, as if he might fall out of the air. "You know it's only for a little bit. Get our bearings, scrape some money together, then we hit the road."

"I guess." Emerald Stream sighed. "It's been so long. So long since I've had to deal with their... I just can't believe the Griffons made us look relatively civilized on that front."

"Did... do you not remember where we've been the last ten years?" Featherfoot cocked his head. "You remember all that hard labour? I don't know if you got the memo, but the check's not in the mail for that one." He gave Emerald Stream a playful shove. "We've only been free a month, and you're already getting nostalgic."

"You know what I mean. It just puts it all in perspective, right?"

"Right. As in, it's A O.K. to be a murderous slaver empire as long as you don't get in the way of true love." Featherfoot drawled the last two words with sarcasm. "Well, when we're living it up in Canterlot, we can have the best of both worlds."

"Canterlot. That's what you want?"

"Of course. It's all I've ever wanted, ever since... well, forever."

"What will we do there?"

"Whatever. Odd jobs, maybe start our own business." Featherfoot wrapped himself around Emerald Stream's leg once more. "I don't care where it is, as long as it's with you."

Emerald Stream hugged him back, then gently pried him off.

"Come on, let's get moving. I don't want to be out here when it gets dark."

They had been but a stone's throw from their home village, and it was but mere minutes before they found themselves amongst those familiar huts and paved stone pathways. As they landed, their demeanour quickly changed, and they strode stiffly side by side, occasionally stealing glances at each other that gave nothing away.

To My Darling Filly

"Darling?"

A middle-aged stallion knocked softly on the bright pink door, which swung inwards with the slightest impetus. Inside the room, his wife stood silently, cradling a stuffed animal in her magical aura with extreme care. His brow furrowed and he sighed.

"I've packed the carriage. It's time."

Sapphire Sunrise sighed as she let the stuffed toy fall to the ground. The knitted manticore had been a gift from her parents, and although she had always thought of it as a frivolous toy, it and her daughter had once been inseparable. Yet she could not bring herself to remove it from this room, where it truly belonged.

"I know. I'm coming. Just... one more moment?"

The stallion nodded, a sombre look on his features. He had aged poorly, greying and wrinkling well before his years, and his mind was not much better. He paused for a moment, as though he might join her, then apparently thought better of it.

"I understand."

The door slowly closed behind him, and she was alone once more.

There really was no excuse for her being here. There was nothing from her daughter's foalhood room Sapphire Sunrise wanted, not even happy memories. All that laid there was sorrow and regret, yet it was this she drank from most deeply, unable to let go from it even as it smothered her.

Her little filly. The room was filled with her presence, even though it had been many years since it had last seen her. The walls were decorated with more awards than she could count, each one a tiny fragment of a greater testament to her daughter's accomplishments. Above her bed, in the most exquisite frame of all, was her acceptance letter to Twilight's School for Gifted Unicorns.

They had been so proud. What parents would not be? To be accepted, to be even considered, was an honour beyond measure. What had it mattered, that they had pushed her till she cried? What had it mattered, that they would see her only a few times a year? It had been difficult, but it had been for her own good. Of that, she had never wavered.

With every accolade, every award, every achievement, their pride had only grown. And then had come the news, the wonderful news, that Luster, her own daughter, had been made the protégé of Princess Twilight. She had wept with joy.

A few paces took her over to her daughter's desk, untouched since her last visit, scattered paper and ink coated with a thick layer of dust.

Yet now, all she felt was hollow. Empty. Her daughter had, in the space of a few days, gone from the darling of Canterlot high society to a despised outcast. The murderer of the Princess. Ponies who had once greeted them warmly now regarded them with angry scowls. They vanished from every social circle. They had even changed their names.

Her husband had tried to convince her to make a public statement denouncing their daughter's actions, but every time she had seriously considered it, she was unable to put her feelings to words. In truth, she was not certain she could have denounced her daughter openly without cursing herself in the same breath.

Did she feel responsible? Of course she did. She would never admit it, but the shame of how she had raised her daughter burned deep into the fibre of her being. Never a word of unqualified praise, never a word of pride without achievement, never a kind word without criticism. And now, she would trade all of it, the awards, the trophies, the protégéship, for one day of reconciliation with her daughter.

Even now, as the war ended and Equestria returned to a semblance of normality, she was nowhere to be found. Her student - the first Alicorn in decades, and none less than an infamous filly she remembered all too well from her own youth - had put in plenty of public appearance, but her own daughter hadn't come to visit - and after today, she never would. The stares and whispers had become too much. She and her husband would disappear again, this time for good. A quiet retirement in a small corner of the world. A slow, unbearable countdown to her final breath. It was what they deserved.

Once more, she began to pace the room, trying to memorize every square inch, committing it to memory that she might return here in the years to come. There was so much more to say - but no time in which to say it. The clock had run down, and she felt the world beyond calling her. But there was, perhaps, time for one final confession.

A photograph of her daughter laid on the bedsit. She had been a young filly, maybe five years of age, her hair tied up in that same ridiculous bun she had still worn as an adult. It had always been a source of consternation between the pair of them, but now it made her smile like the filly it pictured.

Raising the photograph to eye level, she smiled through fresh tears.

"I hope you're okay. I'm sure you are. You always knew to do the right thing... just like your dad."

The portrait stared back motionlessly, always with the same friendly smile.

"I'm sorry. For everything. I should never have pushed you like that. I should have been a better mother. I should..." Her breath caught in her throat. "I should have done so much more for you. But I didn't. And maybe this is what I get for that."

A tear fell from the end of her muzzle and struck the photograph's glass cover.

"Whatever happens, you're always my daughter. I always loved you, no matter what it felt like. I always cared, and... and I... I..."

She choked.

"I was always proud. Always."

The picture landed gently back on the bedsit. Sapphire Sunrise took one last look at it, then sighed, wiped away the last of her tears, and turned her back on it forever.

Where The Heart Is

The ship slowly floated into dock, it's deck teeming with tired, disgruntled Griffons. Many wore wounds - scars, bruises, burns. Some were missing eyes and limbs. Some of the wounds were bright red and festering angrily. All of them were new.

As the bridge descended, there was a burst of motion as hundreds of veterans fought to be the first back on sweet dry land, jostling and cursing at their fellow comrades as they did so. Clutching his few possessions tightly in his beak, Grythe barrelled through a gap in the crowd, losing his claw-grip and being forced to beat his wings as aggressively as he could to stop himself from plummeting into the depths of the port below.

Landing with a thud on the portside, he glanced around wearily. He was not alone; hundreds of freshly-discharged troops were staring at their surroundings in a daze, unsure where to go or what to do. What had been promised to them all as a ten-year deployment had quickly transformed into a nightmare-inducing misadventure in Equestria that had earned them nothing more than severe wounds, national humiliation and unemployment. Grythe, with his health and family to return to, counted himself amongst the lucky ones.

Though sometimes, when he closed his eyes, it didn't seem that way.

The journey home was no less unpleasant than the boat ride. The army had not bothered to arrange transit beyond a ticket back to the home country, and the influx of new arrivals alongside the general chaos that gripped the nation had ground most forms of public transit to a halt. Grythe opted to fly instead, relishing the solitude of the clouds and roaring wind in his ears, if only for half an hour.

Up there, there was peace. He could be alone with his thoughts, process his emotions. Wonder about his future. What would come next? Ever since he had been a hatchling, joining the army had been all he had dreamed of. His family, his parents and grandparents, all had supported him. When he had finally come of age just as the war of the century had dawned, it had been as though the stars had aligned with destiny.

There had been boot camp, training, the blood, sweat and tears. Graduation. Deployment. And all for what? For his country to be defeated, their Royal House butchered, for nothing. When he had been younger, the thought would have made him angry. Now, it just made him feel defeated.

The house was just as he had remembered it, expect for the patriotic posters, still bright and colourful, which were boldly emblazoned on every house along the street. The gate still squeaked when it was opened. The porch was just as filthy as ever. When he rang the doorbell, it still sang out that familiar chime.

It was his father who first opened the door, his face somehow a little bit duller, feathers a little less shiny than when he had last seen him. His eyes said it all, but he embraced his son all the same. Grythe returned the hug, surprised and somewhat taken aback by the affectionate gesture from his usually cold, stoic father.

"Hi, Dad."

"Grythe. I was wondering when... come in, son. Your mother will want to see you."

His mother had been staring into space in the living room when he walked in, but upon his appearance, her eyes flared and she all but leapt to her claws, before striding over and wrapping him in a vice-like hug that made that of his father's seem like a mild pat on the back.

"Grythe..." Her voice was thick. "Oh, my beautiful baby boy. You're home. You're..."

She stopped and pulled away, alarming Grythe when he saw her eyes filled with tears.

"Mom? What's wrong?" He shot a glance back at his father. "Dad?"

"Sit down, son. We... we have to talk."

It wasn't a command. It was a quiet request, but the unbearable weight of his words and the sadness behind them could have floored Grythe in an instant. Taking a seat next to his parents, he glanced back and forth at them both, waiting patiently for one of them to break their silence.

His father spoke first. "I'm sorry to tell you that two weeks ago, we had some bad news. About your brother." Grythe's heart began to pound as he opened his beak, but his father cut across him. "Your brother... isn't going to be coming home." The words hit Grythe like a freight train. "I'm sorry."

Grythe could feel tears stinging behind his eyes, but he forced them back. He despised tears, especially in front of others. Instead, he lowered his head and wrapped his claws together, at a loss for words.

His older brother, who had been his protector, confidante, his best friend. Now gone forever, buried beneath a foreign field and rotting into a pile of bones. All of a sudden, every muscle of his seemed unbearably heavy, his breathing short and shallow.

"I know this must be so hard." His mother's soothing voice just about cut through the dark buzzing that slowly began to fill his mind. "We want you to know that we're here for you."

"We're proud of you, son." His father nodded approvingly. "Everything that's happened, all of this... it's temporary. Our country will rise from the ashes and reclaim its glory, one way or the other."

"And with all the tributes freed, there's lots of jobs." His mother added. "I never liked having all those Hippogriffs around anyway. It'll be nice to go to the market and not have to be served by one of them."

Grythe said nothing, merely continued to twist his claws together. A few weeks ago, he had served alongside a tribute brigade of Hippogriffs, slaves who had volunteered for military service for a chance at freedom. They had fought and died as honourably as any Griffon he had ever known - indeed, more than most. But how could he possibly explain that to his parents?

What did they know of war? Had they seen the flames, the corpses, smelled the blood and smoke and felt their stomach twist as they knew that tomorrow, that wretched mangled pile of charred flesh and bone could be them? Of course not. They would not so wistfully look forwards to the next war if they had.

"I... I think I need to take a break. Think... think things through." He glanced up at his parents. "Would you mind? I need to go upstairs and... unpack."

"Of course." His father wrapped a claw around his mother and gave him a brave smile. "Welcome home, Grythe. It's good to see you."

It wasn't until he was back in his room that he dared let out his first sob, tossing his worthless, meagre possessions to the floor as he shut the door, curled into a ball before it and wept.

Wish You Were Here

Starlight Glimmer let out a low groan of pain as her hind legs seized once again, forcing her to drop the pile of scrolls she had been carrying in her magical grip. Like all too many Equestrians, she had known better days.

Her legs ached. Her vision was fuzzier. She had aged prematurely, and every time she glanced at herself in the mirror, she could have sworn she saw a new wrinkle, or greying strand of hair, each a tiny, irreversible marker of her own mortality. What had once been a cluster of bearable aches had worsened dramatically after she'd attempted to protect one of her students, the son of the Griffon ambassador, from the clutches of the army. For her efforts, she had been beaten within an inch of her life and the boy arrested anyway. Her doctor had informed her that several of the wounds would likely never completely heal, but she didn't care. She wore the marks as proudly as any medal, but they only increased her daily pains.

She wished so often for the lost days of her youth; those carefree years where she had studied under Princess Twilight and her friends, which had forged her into the new mare she was now. Now, with her mentor gone and her old friends more distant than ever, she felt... alone.

Her job kept her busy, of course; there were always students to be educated, minds to be enlightened, and she was rarely able to take an evening off just to herself. But that was, of course, some small comfort.

Forcing herself to keep walking, she pushed the door of her office open and laid the parchments down gently. As she seated herself and levitated the first over to her, she absent-mindedly recounted her old friends.

Pinkie Pie, living in Manehatten with her husband and foals. Starlight had smiled and gushed politely about her three fillies, but privately a small part of her was thankful no descendants of Pinkie Pie would be around to cause chaos at her school.

Rainbow Dash, Captain of the Wonderbolts, entertaining all the wealth and power that came with the position. Since the war, the two of them hadn't spoken - and likely never would again. Applejack had been somewhat more reconciliatory, but she knew their relationship was stronger than her friendship to Starlight ever would be.

Rarity, the fashionista superstar she had always dreamed of being. Every major store carried her name, every celebrity wore her designs, and every magazine and newspaper printed her name as though it was going out of style - as unlikely as that was. Her busy schedule had quickly overwhelmed her life, and the rare times Starlight saw her, she seemed strangely unhappy, no matter how big a smile she tried to put on.

And Fluttershy, who had vanished from the face of the earth since Discord's... incident. No letters, no note, nothing. One day, she had visited only to find an abandoned house, animals and all. A part of her didn't blame Fluttershy one bit. She only hoped that, wherever she was, she could find peace.

The only pony she still saw regularly from those days was her old friend, whom she had spent so many wasted years hating in a dark cloud of bitter regret and hatred. Sunburst. The stallion who she'd once hoped to never see again was, ironically, one of her closest friends. The pair of them could talk and laugh for hours about the past, the present, and things to come. Cultured and intelligent, there was nothing she cherished less than his friendship.

Yet every time she saw him, there was a longing for... more.

She was a fool, delusional even, to still entertain the thoughts she'd once pushed deep down inside her. Sunburst wasn't just her co-worker, he was her best friend - and married. She had been his best mare on the day. River Jewel was a wonderful mare, a kind wife, and a loving mother. She made him happy. Yet her own jealousy couldn't help but rear its ugly head whenever she thought about her.

A small part of her knew that once, Sunburst had most likely felt the same way. All but told her on one occasion. But she had pushed him away. Out of cowardice and fear, a belief that she had not yet done enough to redeem herself, to deserve such happiness. And so, slowly, day by day, he had gotten over her. Moved on, found somepony else.

And now, it had been too long. There was no changing the past. And she certainly had no desire to say anything that might... upset him, not to mention his foals. He was happy. His family was happy. Who was she to take that from them?

She should look elsewhere, but in truth she now felt too old for such things, even if she wasn't. She preferred to think of herself as married to her job - which would almost certainly be with her till death did them part.

A tapping at the door broke her out of her stupor, and when she looked up, Sunburst was standing there. Taking in her groggy, disoriented expression, a look of concern quickly formed on his face and he leaned back, as if embarrassed to have walked in on her in the middle of her thoughts.

"Oh. I'm sorry, should I come back later?"

"N-no." Starlight pushed the door open with her magic, letting out a shaky smile. "You - you're right on time. Here." The stack of parchment quickly separated into two piles, one of which slid across the table. "Come on, these tests aren't going to mark themselves."

Sunburst laughed, giving her one of his wonderfully warm smiles. "It's almost seven o'clock. Those can wait until tomorrow, surely! Say, why don't you come around to my place tonight? You've been working too hard recently. A night off would do you some good."

"Really?" Starlight screamed internally at the obvious enthusiasm in her voice. "I mean, if you're sure..."

"Oh, yeah. River Jewel always makes too much food on a Friday." Starlight stiffened. "I keep telling her, she's cooking for us, not Ponyville, but you know what she's like. Wouldn't hear a word of mine on cooking, not since last Hearts and Hooves Day." A theatrical shudder ran through his body before his smile returned. "What do you say?"

"I..."

For a moment, Starlight wanted to turn him down. She couldn't imagine a worse fate than being trapped in a room with Sunburst and River Jewel, forced to listen to them recount happy memories of their years together while she occasionally murmured or laughed politely. She opened her mouth, ready to tell him just what she thought of him and his wife...

"Sure. Looking forward to it." She gave him a kindly smile. "Let me just put these away, I'll be right out."

She knew she'd never get over Sunburst, but was she really going to make his life a misery just because she had been too cowardly to accept his affections when she had most wanted them? As she opened a drawer and stuffed as many parchments as would fit into it, she chuckled as she imagined what her old friendship teacher would have said if she could see her now.

"Ready?" Sunburst said as she stepped out of her office and extinguished the lights.

Starlight looked up at him and nodded, smiling.

"Lead the way."

A Land Above All

Golden Topaz sighed, inspecting herself closely in the mirror. Behind her, one of her assistants continued to drone on and on.

"...after the debate, there'll be a meet-and-greet at a party held by one of the directors of the Millworker's Union, then a radio appearance on Station Three. I've arranged a chariot to take you from the debate to the party, but it's not available later so I'll have to arrange something else between now and the radio interview. Have you given any thought as to what you're going to wear to the party? I only ask because I have three different outfits and one of them is going to need tailoring."

"It doesn't matter." Golden Topaz sighed and turned around to face the overwhelmed intern, who looked on the verge of tears. "Go and get some rest, kid. I'll handle it from here on out."

The assistant didn't need telling twice, giving her a short, stiff bow before vanishing out of the room with a clattering of hooves and a flurry of paperwork. A small smile formed on Golden Topaz's lips as she slowly pivoted around to examine herself in the mirror once again.

Clad from collar to hoof in her illustrious military dress uniform, she radiated an aura of power and dominance. Every patch of deep blue fabric, every silver button, every golden thread was perfect. She had worn an outfit just like it when she had fought to the bitter end in the last stand of the Crystal Empire, and had refused to have it torn from her even as she was thrown into that bleak, cold dungeon to rot.

Despite the freezing cold, foul food and daily beatings that had sapped the strength and claimed the lives of so many of her comrades, she had never once wavered in her loyalty to the righteous Flurry Heart. Even as her captors mocked her for her devotion to a mare they assured her was long dead, she did not falter. She had sacrificed everything for her princess.

And then, as the world had been cleaved in two by the mischievous hands of fate, she had been repaid for her loyalty. Her princess had returned - only to abandon her, and all of them, for her new Equestrian crown. Lulled from her homeland by the allure of power and wealth, she had abandoned them all.

The betrayal had torn her apart, shattered everything she had thought she once knew. A shroud of rage had descended upon her, and she had fallen into a dark pit of loss and confusion as she sought some solace in this new world. Eventually, that loss had become hate, hate which had become purpose. "Princess" Flurry Heart was an Equestrian by birth, and an Equestrian by birth was an Equestrian through and through.

There could be no future for the Crystal Ponies as long as their kind continued to pull the strings of their society. The Crystal Ponies had endured the enslavement of Sombra, a thousand years of nonexistence bought about by the meddling of the Royal Sisters, then freedom only to be placed once more upon the domination of the Equestrian Royal Family. The common denominator was clear to all.

A thunderous roaring of hooves striking the floor sounded behind her, and the deep, booming voice of the announcer signalled to her it was time for her to take the stage. Passing through the series of temporary doorways and unbearably hot stage lights, she took her first steps towards the podium to a roar of approval.

Her opponent, a disgustingly smug stallion in a suit, waved enthusiastically and flashed the crowd a wide, perfect smile. Golden Topaz, on the other hand, did not allow the corners of her mouth to budge even slightly, instead opting to cross a single hoof across her chest, the traditional salute of the Crystal Legion.

"Thank you, thank you - I said, thank you!" The moderator raised his voice in an attempt to cut through the cheering of the crowd. "Tonight has been many weeks in the making. As we are all aware, the election to select the first Consul of the Crystal Republic since time immemorial is but a few weeks away. For the first time, the two main candidates have agreed to share a stage to debate the issues weighing heavily on all of our minds. Please greet each of them now; the representative for the Popular Movement, Silver Gem!"

A roar of applause went up, mixed with obvious boos and hisses as Silver Gem continued to smile and wave.

"And for the Crystal Dawn, please welcome Centurion Golden Topaz!"

The roars of approval this time threatened to raise the roof as Golden Topaz continued to stare fixedly at the crowd, slowly lowering her salute. It was no act - to have to campaign like a lowly politician genuinely disgusted her.

"I will allow each of you five minutes to issue an opening statement. Silver Gem, you may begin."

"Thank you. I just want to say how wonderful it is to be here tonight, and how grateful I am to have the chance to vie to represent this wonderful country, from the hard-working ponies who make up its backbone, to the..."

Golden Topaz filtered him out, uninterested in whatever pre-rehearsed tripe he was dishing out. No doubt it would be more of the same, simpering pandering to truth, justice and peace. As she patiently waited for him to finish, she focused her attention on the crowd. Hundreds of desperate faces, some angry, some anxious, all of them hanging on to their every word. How many of them, she wondered, had waited for the return of their princess as she had, only to be crushed by her betrayal at the last second?

How could they listen to this fool spew his pro-Equestrian garbage with such passive, uncritical expressions on their faces after that? It unnerved her. Perhaps that was the true weakness of her people. They were too easily led.

"Thank you, Silver Gem. Centurion, you have the floor."

"Thank you." Her voice was cold and curt. "I'm sure we've all had enough of my opponent's spineless belching for now."

"Centurion, I have to ask that you - "

"And, as I'm sure we all know, he offers this nation precisely what it should have learned to expect from ponies like him." She crashed through the moderator's half-hearted protest. "More submission to Equestria. More subservience to their whim, as their favoured lapdog. Perhaps an occasional corn husk or dinner scrap tossed our way, should we perform our tricks on command."

"For thousands of years, our people languished in turmoil at the hooves of their kind. Once, we were slaves under the tyrant Sombra. And when we were freed by the late Princess Twilight and her dragon, nothing changed. We were immediately placed under the dominion of their royal family, to serve them as foreigners in our own land. Until, at last, we were abandoned by the once-beloved Flurry Heart for the jewel of the Equestrian crown without so much as a second thought."

"Under the... vision..." She spat the word. "...of my opponent, we are to submit ourselves to the whims of Equestria as their supposes allies. But I ask you, the audience; has Equestria ever desired such an equal relationship? Have they ever extended to us so much as an olive branch of diplomacy that did not come with the crushing hegemony of their own ambition!?"

Angry mutters and cries ran through the crowd. Swelling her chest with bravado, Golden Topaz continued her speech.

"I offer you a new vision of the Crystal Empire. Free of foreign influence, a nation built for our people, and our people alone. Now, and forever, let it be done, or let us perish!"

Cheers and applause ran through the crowd. The moderator adjusted his spectacles awkwardly as Golden Topaz raised her hoof once more in a salute.

"Thank you, Centurion, that was most... inspiring. Now, onto the next question. How do you intend to tackle the challenge of rebuilding after the conflict? Ten minutes. Silver Gem, you may begin."

The Final Rest

Every single step the stallion took was uncomfortable, but he paid his aching body no heed, busying himself in his slow ascent of the marble staircase with the hushed demeanour of a pony on a mission. He carried one of the most famous names in Equestria, but few ponies recognized him, and fewer still acknowledged him other than for the occasional jerk of their head.

Time had long ago run out for his lost soul, but for reasons he knew not, the reaper had stayed his scythe. Sometimes, when he was able to muster the strength, he would sit and wonder why he, and he alone, had been spared from the cruel fates that had befallen the rest of his family, leaving him lost, adrift and distraught.

Then, he would chastise himself for his ingratitude. He had enjoyed many years of happiness. And recent times had taken much from many. What right did he have to complain?

Perhaps there was some unresolved business he had left to complete, but he knew in his heart that his failing body that was often incapable of completing even the simplest tasks would be unable to finish whatever it was he had started. These days, it was all he could manage to get up from bed and out of the house.

The white marble seamlessly blended into a suitable sombre black as he crossed the threshold of the great doorway. The guards parted silently, each lowering their head in a nod of respect to the elderly stallion. Ordinarily, visitors were expected to reserve time for a visit, but this visitor was far from ordinary. As he passed, he gave them a thankful nod, his long, thinning grey mane shaking slightly at the jagged, awkward motion.

Though Princess Twilight's reign had been a mere footnote in Equestrian history in contrast to Princess Celestia and Luna's aeons of rule, her tomb was no less elaborate. In between the towering marble and obsidian skeletons of the Royal Sisters, a glistening amethyst monolith stood with twisting tendrils of carved wood reaching up its base, inlaid with an quotation from the final pages of the Journal of the Two Sisters that he knew well. He should. After all, he had chosen it.

Princess Twilight Sparkle

Beloved Daughter, Sister and Aunt.

Element of Magic and Proud Friend.

"My fallen star, how dark shall the skies seem without your glitter? How shall I continue without you, the light of my life? I feel it as surely as I know the sun rises and sets from dawn to dusk; without you, my heart shall die also."

Night Light felt a terrible sense of loss grip him as he approached the monolith. His eyes began to tremble, though he was unable to produce any tears. As always, the tomb was showered in bouquets of flowers from countless mourners and followers, many carrying tender notes of loss and grief, and a few hopes for a brighter future. There was a time he could have stayed there for hours, reading each touching tribute until his heart could no longer bear the pain and he left.

Not so much, in these final days of his life.

In his mouth, he carried a comparatively meagre gift of common daisies, a fresh cluster he had picked last night just for today, the anniversary of his daughter's death. Already they had begun to wilt, but their fragrance was as strong as ever. Stooping as low as his burning knees would allow, he deposited the bundle with a thin, toothless smile.

"Here you are, my darling. I remember how much you used to love these."

Wheezing as he pushed himself back to standing, he lowered his head in silent contemplation, offering up a quiet prayer to Providence, as he knew his daughter would have wanted. His mumbling lips fell silent, and he looked up.

His wife, lost to illness. Both children, taken from him by a pointless war. Hadn't he suffered enough? For the first time, the sight of the tomb filled him not with grief and sorrow, but a budding sense of anger. Save for a granddaughter he never saw, he was alone. He was tired. So tired of life, and all its pain. He longed to be returned to his wife, his son, his daughter.

"Oh, Twilight." His voice was thick. "I'm so lost. I don't know what to do. I... I miss you all so much. Please, just... let it all end."

The tomb did not respond, twinkling silently in the firelight that surrounded it. Turning around with a sigh, he had time to take but a single step before he froze in place and his jaw fell open.

The room had chilled, and before him stood a cloaked figure he didn't recognize - and couldn't have forgotten. Beneath it's rough, thick hood laid pure darkness, and when he glanced down, it's hooves were made of pure white bone. For a moment, he was frozen by fear - then he relaxed, and dared a small, sad smile.

With a strength he hadn't known in years, he bowed to the spectre, feeling a sudden, but not unwelcome chill pass through his body as it's thin, bony hoof rested against his chest. Somewhere in the background, he heard a wonderful laughter he hadn't known in years, the laughter of his loving wife.

The cloaked figure bowed in return, silent as the rapidly fading world around him. Stepping back, it gestured wordlessly towards a sudden blackness that had appeared in the middle of the room, swallowing the world around it. Night Light only nodded in response, paused to take one last loving look at his daughter's shrine, then strode into oblivion with the energy of many years passed.

We'll Meet Again

"There. Feel better?"

The colt sniffed, examining his bandaged leg with a miserable look on his face.

"Y-yes. Thank you, Miss Blossom."

"It's no trouble at all. Just be careful when you go running around the quarry." She ruffled the colt's mane and made a shooing motion. "Go on, go and find your friends."

The colt nodded, giving Cherry Blossom one last grateful smile before his disappeared through the doorway to her office. The mare chuckled to herself before she closed up her first aid kid and stretched her wings with a yawn. As she approached a year's service as her village's doctor, she found more opportunities than ever to reflect on how much her life had changed since then.

Orchard Falls was a small, little-known village in the middle of nowhere, and it had quickly caught Fluttershy's eye as the perfect place to vanish into. Without Discord, she had no desire to remain in Ponyville, where everypony recognized her on sight. She wanted peace, and she had finally found it amongst these gentle trees and lazy river streams. Her mane, still the same shade of light pink now streaked with grey highlights had grown longer than ever, and nowadays it seemed permanently tied into a large bun above her head.

She had been forced to let many of her old animals go, a decision that had torn her apart, but she had quickly found many new critter friends amongst the local population. Though each of her lost animal friends had been irreplaceable in their own way, the new crowd of creatures gave her every bit as much joy as Ponyville Animal Sanctuary had once done.

Just as she had hoped, she had arrived in the village to find herself completely anonymous. There had been to occasional scratching of the head, narrowed eye and terrifying pause, but she had maintained her alibi for so long now, she no longer feared being recognized - except, perhaps, by an unusually perceptive outsider. But those were far and few between.

In between the scraped knees, bruises, cuts, hungry animals and sniffles, she contented herself with books, sewing and singing. Her life was slow and quiet, just how she liked it. The ravages of the war could not touch her here. To grow old under such tranquillity was a luxury few enjoyed now. She cherished it.

At the end of the day, as every day, she found herself underneath a great oak tree with a small pile of rocks beneath it, arranged in a pattern unknowable to any but her. The full moon was unusually bright tonight, illuminating her shrine in a perfect bath of lunar light.

Kneeling down in front of her tiny monument, she unfolded a yellowed, aged parchment that had begun to disintegrate in places. One day, she knew it would no longer be legible, but it didn't matter. She had already memorized the words by heart, written them into her own spirit so she would never forget them.

How does a stallion express his feelings?

Well, I'm no stallion, it should be said,

Yet there's a funny spell you cast over me,

That makes me giddy, dizzy and red.

Now they tell me that spell's called love,

The most powerful spell of them all,

A flower in bloom, or a poison so foul,

Makes a heart too big, a mind too small.

But what would they know? I must ask them,

Have they ever fell in love quite like this?

Ever laid with a mare with your beauty and care,

Held her, cradled her, shared a kiss?

There is nothing I would trade that feeling for,

No earthly prize or heavenly reward would do.

Take my life, my health, my power if you please,

I would give every last one of them up for you.

Now I'll take my leave quite kindly,

And hope I've not gone too far,

For it's to you I devote this poem,

To Fluttershy, My Shining Star.

A single silver tear ran down her cheek even as she smiled through the recitation. Her voice fell silent, and all that could be heard was the chirping of the crickets as they sung their song under the light of the full moon.

The End

An Ode To Captivity (Bonus)

I sit in silent darkness,
My home is a cold iron cell.
Yet still it fills me with comfort to be here,
This strange, yet familiar hell.

The exit is guarded by a three-headed canine,
Watching us greedily from high on his shelf.
The door is wrought of metres of steel,
Sealed and enchanted by the Princess herself.

Chains bind me hoof and fetlock,
Sheer walls stretch up to the clouds.
But I would not dream of escaping this place,
Nor would I leave if I were allowed.

The Princess still sends me a letter each week,
For old time's sake, I assume, nothing more.
It pains me to think back to all that I left behind,
Of the world that lies beyond that great door.

Beyond these walls, I am a legend,
A story told to all foals under the sun.
The filly friendship and all her armies could not save,
The mare who challenged the Princess, and won.

In some, I am a villain of the darkest art,
A cruel witch whom all would despise.
In others, I am a victim of destiny and fate,
A tragedy, with hellfire and stars in her eyes.

Neither tale are true, nor is any woven of me,
But perhaps it is better this way.
"'History is forgotten by all in a generation or two,
But a fable lives forever", they say.

The real story is only known to my fellow prisoners,
And to ones who still remember those times.
The filly who was tricked by the icon of chaos made flesh,
The mare who didn't learn from her crimes.

I have told it before, and shall tell it again,
A thousand times if I can, and I will.
Every prisoner here flocks to hear my story again,
And for once, every furious tongue lies still.

If I wanted, I could loved, cherished and worshipped,
A shining Queen in this world they abhor.
But then, I would have truly learned nothing at all,
And I have twice played the fool before.

When they ask what I want? Simple, I tell them;
A friend, just one, would suffice.
No slaves, no servants, no adoring fans do I seek,
A fellow equal is my only price.

They do not understand; I do not blame them,
My only offer is one they have all spurned.
They are treated like animals in this frozen pit,
What other lessons should I expect them to learn?

When I first came here, I was a mere filly,
This place seemed so much smaller then.
Today, it houses dark creatures from lands far beyond,
Yet I am the only pony in this great demon's pen.

They cry every night without fail,
A legion of wretched souls screaming in regret.
My heart is torn by their anguish and pain,
And for their sorrow I cannot abet.

More than once I have begged for silence,
For every tongue to lie still, for the end.
I cannot tell how many years it has been,
Only that in here, sanity is hard to defend.

Their sadness is matched by their anger,
At the world that built them this cage.
Though many lose their minds inside of this place,
Not one has ever let go of their rage.

But I cannot bring myself to blame my captors,
Nor do I feel injustice towards these creatures.
The dwellers in here may be tortured, lost and sick,
But innocence is hardly one of their features.

The warlords, the brutes, the killers,
Demons, and the tyrants they serve.
Bloodthirsty monsters hellbent on destruction,
What more do they think we deserve?

I am content, not happy, but satisfied,
My place in here has been well earned.
For the sorrow I have wrought in the world beyond here,
And for the offers of friendship I have spurned.

I sit in silent darkness,
The banners of hell unfurled.
My home is a prison of sinners and stone,
Yet I would not trade it for The World.

Author's Note

This is a poem I wrote for The Legionnaire that I had planned to include as the final chapter ("The World") before a major (seriously major) rewrite. That's right, at one point it was going to be even more depressing.

I don't want it to go to waste, so I thought I'd include it here.