As I stood out upon the great glass sands, I thanked the old goddesses for them having made my escape. I thanked the old rainbowed servant especially, as many ponies had come to do. Ponies had been running for years. How many, nopony had the means to measure.
I cleared some glass with my hoof, the one covered with a boot I had taken and fit to myself. Laying down, I held the rusted sigil I wore around my neck in that same hoof, praying to the star-spangled servant to keep me free of the rotting sickness. Like my boot, it had been stolen and made to fit pony purposes, but it had been long ago. When times were good, it had often been anointed with oil from the olives. A peaceful offering for a peaceful protector.
How foolish we had been, to think those who had wasted us would show any kindness. But what option did we have? The old Bird Mountains had grown more and more poisoned, so much that even the strongest pegasi in their blessed hosed-masks could not muster enough strength to turn the winds back.
I did not worry for my companions, my family, for worry did nothing but waste the energy and disharmonize the soul. They would leave this place for another, the same or better.
I turned to look at my sigil, taking comfort in the fact that even those who ruled now respected them. The three points, it could not be for anything but the goddesses who ruled our tribes before. Their blackness, the old peace of the night, the coolness under which ponykind now often traveled. Their yellow surrounding, surely the old comforting warmth of the day, now a reminder of ponykind's resilience.
As I looked out over the horizon, past the dunes and into the sky, I attempted to get my bearings. I looked for the tamed Ursa Major to the east. It was there, as it had always been. The goddesses' servants' deeds etched into the sky, so that ponykind may always remember them. A not-star, blinking and racing needlessly, passed over it.
When I was young, I had hated watching the night sky because of them. The not-stars were the new one's own crude attempt to etch their deeds into the sky. The herd's priestess always had to remind me, that one day we would knock them out of the sky.
Smiling from the memories of easier times, I began to trot towards it. We had agreed, whatever might happen, to meet up eastwards in the ruins.
It had taken most of the night, and thankfully not an hour later, for the sun had begun its slow, unguided flight as I walked into the village of the ruins. It had been a seasonal camp for decades, of another herd who had since declined and gone with others. Now, however, it seems it will see more use by mine.
As I pushed the tarp aside and entered into the longhouse, I was not at all surprised at what I did not see. My mother, my sister. One look at the priestess confirmed what I had already thought. They're in much better fields than this Gehenna, and I still have to face another day.
"My dear colt, you passed through the hot fields, didn't you?", she asked knowingly
"I had no other option, we had to scatter"
She trotted over to me, pulling out a small ball of lead from her saddle bags with her magic. I swallowed it, my dry throat attempting to reject it. Lead a day keeps the burns away, my mother told me as a colt.
"My mother, how?" is all I could muster
"You already know, just as they did to everypony else missing"
I found a blanket laid out on the floor, sewn together from Birdy cotton and old scraps found here. I should grieve, but that would lead to anger. Anger brings disharmony.
"I know you think me foolish to bring us here, Coke", she said as she laid beside me, both of us watching a little candle dancing in the light breezes which came through the cracks
"I do"
"May I tell you why I did so?", she asked, putting her foreleg around my bony shoulders.
"It would not be right to refuse a priestess" was all I could muster
She gave a light laugh at that.
"Some unicorns are naturally gifted, as the star-spangled servant was. We can naturally feel the comings and goings of Equus, whether of nature or of those which think. I felt something, a change to come."
What she said was true, it was how they showed their right to lead, what made them priestesses. Yet, I had already known this from foalhood.
"I felt something, a big change - just after the poison began to take over the Bird Mountains, and I felt it here"
"Was this just a feeling, or did Harmony tell you something?"
"A return. To what or when, it did not say, but the faithful have little doubt"
I jolted up at that. I had never held any doubts about Harmony, and Sparkle had never given me reason to doubt her interpretations of it.
"A return? From before the cataclysm?!", I yelled, looking into her purple eyes franticly.
She simply nodded, with that same kind expression she had given me since my foalhood.
"It was for that reason which I sent you out, to see which way I was to act. You have all proved which road we are to trot, and for that all ponykind will thank you"
"What do you mean? We knew already what they would do"
"A pony needs proof before acting harshly, my little pony. We needed proof the new ones had not changed, lest we bring disharmony by any rash actions"
"But, but what rash actions could we take?! We take from them, what else could we do?!"
She put her hoof on my back, pushing me back down and bidding me to rest. She gently eased the growth upon my croup, but I had long since lost feeling there. Blowing out the candle and heading for another section of the longhouse, she turned to look at me.
"What Equestria could not"
The herd over the past few days had been in a stampede of activity. While I was used to needing to quickly pick up camp and leave, this was all together different. Sparkle had not been willing to explain, and it didn't seem right to pry about Harmony's will. Having gone through the glass sands, I was allowed to remain with some of the lame, doing more menial tasks.
Most of the able ponies had been sent out to rummage through some of the more mild parts of the desert, bringing back almost anything they could carry. Walls and lean-tos had been set up, far more than the herd needed. Excepting the new one's strange camps, I had never seen so much metal in one place.
I winced as the bone needle pricked my hoof, a little drop of blood staining the patchworked mass of fabric I was working on. My mother hadn't taught me much sewing, saying I needed to learn to be a stallion. Ironic, that when I needed to be a stallion the most, I was put to work doing just the opposite. I had prayed to the jeweled servant, who had been known as the greatest seamstress, though what we were making seemed like it would be too dirty for her.
I tied a knot on my poor quality sewing, motioning for an elderly unicorn mare to hand me another swatch. Sparkle had instructed as all to think of the hills and valleys of sand as we put the baggy robes together, like the Sun and Moon. This particular swatch had some sort of writing on it, or what I assumed to be writing, since literacy was usually something only the priestesses had the time and knowledge to learn.
We continued on like this for awhile, occasionally poking our heads out of the lean-to in order to see what new things were being brought in. Beyond the odd bit of furniture or simple tool, I couldn't tell what they were or what their purposes could even be.
Eventually, as the sun had risen to its height, I began to hear some commotion beyond the clanging of metal. I stood up, trotting out to see the cause. A group of ponies I hadn't seen before had arrived, hauling what seemed to be everything they owned upon their backs or small, one-pony carts. The herd had to be about 50 in all, larger than my own and most others. Most held some form of weaponry, from spears tipped with jagged metal, hafted by their heads' tangs and the wood thickly wrapped with cordage to hold them, to bows for a few pegasi. Those that stood out most, however, were the larger unicorn stallions who surrounded the largest. They held crude versions of the new one's thunder staffs, while their leader, who had to stand twice as tall as myself, wore and held things worth more than our group's possessions combined. He was equipped just like the new ones, wielding a thunder stick just a bit longer than himself, a knife affixed to its end. Upon his head was a thick helmet. Not of gold or even steel, but something unknown. Covering most of his withers and barrel was what was undoubtedly armor, just as alien in its appearance and material as his helmet. At first, I had assumed it simply had an odd pattern to it. However, for some unknown purpose or aesthetic, it had lines of straps sewn horizontally all about it. This is not to say the pattern wasn't odd, it resembling a much more refined version of what me and my group had been putting together.
"You called me here, witch, your messenger almost dying from how fast she flew. What is so dire, that it demands us all to come here at a moments notice?", the larger unicorn spoke, eliciting some surprise from us.
"I assume you heard also, then, of your payment?"
Payment? What did we have that would be worth it to this herd?
"Man slaves, man loot. Though I doubt you could stop whatever vengeance they might bring if you managed to enslave one"
Man...an odd word. It must be what they call the new ones.
As composed as ever, Sparkle responded.
"You know better than to use their own name, it may just bring them. However warranted your doubt is, my child, know that we have a plan for them"
Slavery, as in what the old black stallion had done? We were going to attack them?
"So that's why the Northerners look ready for war", the old mare next to spoke, grabbing my attention away the odd sight. I remembered, that black stallion had been a Northerner.
"Northerners? How can you tell?", I asked her.
"Look at their coats, matted, choppy cuts. They're not used to the desert, not hot ones anyways"
I took a closer look, absent mindedly returning to my work. They did look different, the poor cuts betraying the thicker areas they had missed. The stallion must not have been lying about how dire Sparkle made her message. I wanted to know more, more than I had ever wanted to.
After pricking myself with the needle again, I set it down and gave the old mare a sorry look. She just smiled, shooing me off with her hoof. I pushed through the crowd of ponies who had the same intentions, eyeing the largest stallion. He smirked at me, seeming proud.
"You like my armor, colt?"
I simply nodded. I had never thought of it, but it would protect me much more than my little charm. He shifted, facing me directly.
"The man and their chariots don't like the cold". He held his hoof up to a blood stained bit of his armor, right in the middle and top of it. An odd little design, it was a rectangle with black, red, and yellow, the old blood having turned some of it all a darker crimson.
He killed a new one?! A pony could really just kill a new one?!
"Y-you actually killed a new one?!"
He stood straighter, stepping towards me. He was undoubtedly the biggest creature I had ever seen. I subconsciously cowered, just a little bit.
"Call them men, you damned heathen! They're just like you and I, your witch makes me tired enough of this supposed sorcery!"
I tried to raise my voice, to defend our priestess, our matriarch, but I could bring none but these:
"Who are you ponies?"
"The Guard"
