To The Last

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"