The world, much less Equestria, is still reeling from the tremendous impact of the Great War. Countless books, dissertations, and articles have been written on the subject, and this is but one of them, and I am but one humble writer.
"But, Nickel Specter," you might argue, "Why should I give a flying feather about your book?"
An excellent question, my dear hypothetical reader.
Obviously, the Great War will influence Equestria as long as this great nation exists. It is due to this profound influence that, even a century later, essays and dissertations are still being churned out by academia. Few genuine nuggets of insight have been unearthed for a long time, and my own "The Wonderbolts and Their War for Equestria" is no exception from that affliction
I assumed this condition would last indefinitely, but then I made an astounding discovery. For the past hundred years, scholars studying the War have been frustrated by the dearth of information on certain events and ponies that only an eye witness would be able to shed any light on. As you can see, this poses a problem because the last living veteran of that terrible conflict died ten years ago.
Or, so it was thought until I discovered the last living veteran living on a mountain overlooking a remote village.
To be allowed to interview this source, I had to agree not to disclose his name or location, lest he attract the wrong kind of attention. He has lived a hermit's life for quite a long time, ever since his wife passed away four or five decades ago, and he seems to like it that way.
Finding him was challenging; only one wagon goes into that town every week and, though it seems he often travels down into the town, few of the residents seem to know of his historical importance. From the ground, his cave just looks like an indent in the cliff face. As I climbed up a path as steep as it was narrow, it was easy to see how he managed to stay hidden all this time, despite being hunted by most of the academic world.
We conduct our interview in a large, vaguely drafty room. This room is sparsely furnished, with the notable exception of hundreds of frames crowding the stone walls from floor to ceiling. Some frames hold paintings, others hold photographs, but the vast majority hold hoofwritten notes and letters to and from various ponies. I recognize some of the more famous names, but most names are too obscure. The roaring fire in his hearth keeps the room at a comfortable temperature, while preventing moisture from damaging the framed artifacts.
When I speak to him, he rarely makes eye-contact, preferring instead to pace the length of the large rug on the floor. His tale is slow to come at first, but once the memories start flowing, he becomes more confident--he stands straighter, his voice becomes fuller, and he imitates what certain ponies might have sounded like.
He makes the story come alive, pulling long-dead ponies from beyond the grave to explain their roles, and their stories.
____________________________________________________________________________
Heh, you walked all the way up here to just talk about a war over a hundred years gone? You’re tougher than you look, I’ll give you that. In return, I’ll tell you what I know. But, and be warned, after all this time my memory might be a little fuzzy, though your book on the Wonderbolts did give me a jump start.
You read my book?
Yup. It was well written, too, though a bit dry.
Don’t give me that look; I grew up around scholars and worked with books and scrolls my whole life. I’ve read everything from Starswirl the Bearded to A Complete History of Equestria. I know my stuff.
Your War for Equestria was caused by nothing more than a terrible chain of events triggered by an accident no pony could have foreseen. Though you very likely know everything about that…incident…I doubt you have a first person account about those chaotic months. Applejack was notorious for her reluctance about answering questions about that. Excellent businesspony, but stubborn as a mule.
That accident triggered a civil war.
Not really. While it was tragic, it didn’t really directly influence the war. It’s what came after that accident that matters, and that’s when he comes into play.
[He points to a photograph of a bright red dragon in an old military uniform.]
Firebrand was never involved in that accident. He was, however, very involved in the events leading up to the eventual uprising and secession of Southern Equestria. He did all he could in his position to stop the war from happening. All those myths you hear about how he personally assassinated half of the Equestrian Guard, plus the most of the Royal Guard, are crap. In fact, both branches of the military were stronger than ever at the start of the war, due in large part to him.
So, listen to me when I say that Brand was no traitor. He loved his country, and would have died for it, and for Celestia. He did what he did to protect the realm and as an attempt to keep it held together. That’s why he joined Fluttershy’s Peace Corps, rest her soul.
Brand was a habitual worrier, though he didn't often show it. He saw Equestria would not survive a civil war after a thousand years of peace. He fought, and sometimes killed, to keep this country together. He would never allow anything to get between him and his duty.
[He gestures to a framed painting on the wall. It depicts six mares and two dragons.]
You see them? They were my closest friends. The story I'm about to tell you is not about me, though I'm in it. No, it's about them, their sacrifices, and their heroism. That war hinged on their actions.
But you’re not here to hear about a story you already know. I would bet my (admittedly large) life savings you recognize the ponies in this picture and you could tell me how they each uniquely influenced the war. I bet you could also give me a detailed paper on how the Equestrian Guard was responsible for finally stomping out the rebellion. Credit they don't deserve, but that's beyond the point.
Y'see, this story is about Firebrand. So far as I know, there are no records of any interviews with the dragon, and no pony’s got anything he wrote. You were out of luck when it came to Brand. Well, until you found me, of course.
Hold on a moment. The Guard did not ultimately stop the war?
[He chuckles] Not even a little bit. Of course, they were very important in winning the war, just not the most important. The history books often credit the final victory to the Guards because the real cause was never documented or talked about, and for good reason. Very few ponies would enjoy finding out what happened.
What was the real cause?
In due time, you impatient pony. You can't rush a story like this one.
Because of my unique role in the war, I had access to information few others did. After the war, I was a clerk for the Council of Three, and I managed to hear even more tales about the war, along with a bunch of stuff that very few ponies knew.
I am not recording any information that could get me in trouble with the law.
Oh, quit your worrying. I doubt anything I’ll tell you is still confidential. Even if it is, I don't see what could be so important about a bunch of dead ponies anyways. Not like they can pitch a fit or something.
Well, I suppose we should get started. Let's see, if I had to find the beginning of this story, chances are it was at Sweet Apple Acres, for reasons you can probably guess.
Brand was furious with himself. He had never had a discrepancy before, and now the Apple account was a whole fifty bits short.
"Dammit, where is that receipt?" he muttered to himself as he sifted through piles of paper on his desk, "Applejack is usually so organized. It's got to be around here somewhere. Maybe Big Mac knows where it could be, 'cause it sure ain't here." He sighed and stretched to his full six-foot height.
He yawned and walked out of the barn. The sun reflected off his red scales and he took a deep breath, enjoying the autumn air. It's such a wonderful day, I think I'll just walk to the orchard.
As Brand reached the trees heavy with ripe fruit, he spotted Big Macintosh pulling a cart piled high with apples. The dragon waved and ambled over to the horse. "How's the harvest this year, Mac?"
The plow horse continued trudging towards the farm. "Slightly better than our usual haul."
Brand walked with him. "That's great! Say, you wouldn't happen to know where Applejack stores the receipts, would you?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" He glanced at Brand. "Heck, shouldn't you know where she keeps them?"
Brand's hand sheepishly rubbed the ridges on the back of his head. "You'd think so, but she usually pulls them out for me when the end of the month rolls around. Do you know where she is?"
Big Macintosh glared at the ground as he worked to get over the hill. "Well," he managed to grunt, "I reckon she's in the cellar, doing inventory."
Brand sighed, a puff of smoke escaping from his mouth. "Shoot, I just came from the barn, too. You mind if I just walk back with you?"
"Nnnope," the red horse responded.
The horse and dragon completed the rest of their walk in silence. Once they reached the cellar doors set into the ground, Brand shouted down the stairs, "Hey Applejack! We've got another load for you!"
She poked her head around the door frame. "Well, don't just stand there--bring it down."
Brand looked over his shoulder and saw that Big Mac had already turned the cart around to do just that.
Applejack shouted up the stairs, "You see that board on the ground? Put it on the stairs so the apples can roll on down here." Brand found it and did as he was told. The cart stopped when the wheels clunked into a plank set into the dirt.
"You ready?" he asked Big Mac. He heard an "Eeyup" drift from the front of the wagon.
The cart's gate clattered open with a flick of Brand's wrist and the apples tumbled onto the cellar's dirt floor. Once the cart was empty, the gate was latched back into place and Big Mac began the long walk back to the orchard. Brand pulled aside the ramp and descended into the damp cellar. "How goes the inventory?"
Applejack pushed up her hat. "Big harvest this year. It's gonna be some time before I can count all these apples. Y'all finish early this month?"
Brand shook his head. "Almost, but I've hit a snag. You didn't happen to leave any of the receipts in storage did you?" He gestured to a basket. "Can I…?"
Applejack nodded. Her eyebrows knit together in concern. "I'm sure I gave you everything. Why, is there some sort of problem?"
"Well, I've found a fifty bit discrepancy," he mumbled around a mouthful of apple.
The pony looked at him blankly. Brand gestured with his free hand. "It means we're fifty bits short." He looked at the apple. "Wow, this really good."
The pony beamed proudly. "Of course. That's a Sweet Apple Acres apple you're eating right there." She frowned. "Are you sure you did the math right?"
Brand popped the rest of the apple in his mouth. "I've double-checked my math; it's correct."
Applejack's brow creases deepened. "Well, what does this mean? Has somepony stolen from us?"
"Worst case scenario, yes. However, that's likely not the case. Who has access to the bank account?"
Applejack studied the pile of unsorted apples in thought. "Only me and Big Macintosh. Doggonit, if someone's been stealing from us, I'll hogtie 'em to a tree."
Brand rubbed his chin. "And no other pony has been able use that money recently?"
Applejack looked up suddenly. "Apple Bloom! Last week, I sent her to buy wood for the new barn. I'd bet my hat she's still got the receipt."
"Excellent! Do you know where she would be?"
"Oh, she's probably up in that treehouse with her friends. It's in the north field, near the fence." She turned back to her paperwork.
Brand thanked her and walked out of the cellar. Once outside, he unfurled his wings with a leathery snap and jumped into the air. A couple flaps had him cruising just above the tops of the apple trees towards the clubhouse he could see in the distance. The girls' laughter could easily be heard when Brand walked up the ramp to knock on the door.
Apple Bloom's voice carried through the wood. "Hunh, I wonder who that is. Everypony should be out harvesting the apples. Scootaloo, go answer it."
"Why do I have to get it?"
"You're closer."
There were footsteps and grumbled "Fine" when Scootaloo swung open the door. Her expression immediately brightened when she saw who it was.
[Those three were the only fillies not scared by Brand, though for good reason. Heh, you should've seen Babs Seed's face when she met Brand. Priceless.]
"Brand!" she exclaimed. The filly spun around. "Hey Crusaders, Brand's here!"
Brand stuck his head into the small space and grinned at the children. "What's going on, girls?"
Sweetie Belle walked towards him. "I thought you would be working right now."
Brand chuckled. "Actually, I haven't finished just yet. Truth be told, I'm on the job right now."
He turned to Apple Bloom. "Could I speak to you outside?"
He ducked out of the doorway and walked to the ground. Apple Bloom followed and worriedly asked, "What d'you need to talk to me about? Am I in trouble?"
Brand waved the question aside. "No, you aren't. I just need the receipt from when you bought the wood for that new barn." He jabbed his thumb in a vaguely Southern direction.
Apple Bloom looked relieved. "That's it? It should be in my bags still. Sorry I didn't give it to you earlier."
Her pink bow swung as she turned back towards the ramp. Brand followed her up.
The dragon made small talk with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo while Apple Bloom searched for the receipt. He could tell something was wrong when the search spilled over to the floor space around the filly's bags. "Something wrong, Apple Bloom?"
She looked up at him. "The receipt's not in my bag, but don't worry. It should be around here somewhere…"
Brand's brow furrowed. "You lost the receipt? That thing's important, you know."
Apple Bloom shook her head. "No, no, no, it's not lost. It's just…misplaced, is all."
"I'll look in the observatory," Sweetie Belle offered. "Scootaloo, check outside, just in case."
As the fillies raced around and inside the treehouse, Brand couldn't help but feel anxious. He'd never had a deficit in the years he'd been doing this, and he couldn't have one now, not with such a large harvest coming. What would Applejack think? She'd be mad. Or worse, she wouldn't trust him anymore. She might even fire him. This was not good. That receipt had to be found. I will find that receipt, even if I have to tear this treehouse apart with my bare hands.
[I swear, the guy must’ve given himself an ulcer over stress like this.]
After a good twenty minutes of searching, with Brand was pacing outside, the receipt had still not made an appearance.
Scootaloo stopped in front of him. "Why do you even need that piece of paper anyways? Can't you just, y'know, write in the numbers?"
Brand stared at her. "What? No, I can't just 'write in the numbers'. I need to make sure the numbers match. And to be able to do that, I need that receipt. Do you understand?"
"Well, you didn't need to get all mad about it. We’re looking for it as fast as we can, and it's definitely not out here." The pegasus turned to walk up into the treehouse.
"If it's not out here, don't just stand there!" Brand pointed to the door. "Help them look inside."
He made a shooing motion. "Go!"
Scootaloo narrowed her eyes, but grudgingly went inside.
Brand's pacing continued at an even faster rate than before. His feet kicked up clouds of dirt and red flames flared out of his nostrils with every breath. Damn it all, why'd she have to lose that stupid receipt? I'm not even sure I can finish without it. Unless-- An idea struck the dragon like a sledgehammer.
"Apple Bloom," he called into the clubhouse, hoping against hope. "You wouldn't happen to have the exact change from when you went to the store, do you?" He crossed his fingers.
"Let me check!" After some rustling, she poked her head out of the doorway. "Nah, I don't. Why d'you ask?"
Brand looked like he had bit into something sour. His hands clenched and unclenched and a vein pulsed in his neck. He started pacing even faster, his head down and his breathing hard.
"Shit," he muttered to himself. I can't complete my job without that damned receipt. I can't believe I actually allowed her keep it. I should have just retrieved it the day she bought that lumber. What will happen if Applejack finds out? The thought horrified him. He wringed his hands behind his back and increased his pacing and cursing speed.
Apple Bloom motioned for Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo to check out Brand's display of frustration. Brand's mutterings and curses earned him worried looks from the three fillies in the treehouse.
"Uh, y-you okay?" Apple Bloom asked nervously.
"Yeah, we didn't mean to lose your receipt," Sweetie Belle piped up.
Brand stopped mid-curse and remembered where he was. "Huh? Oh, ah, no. I'm fine. Thanks for looking, though."
Scootaloo didn't make eye contact with the dragon, clearly still sore about Brand snapping at her.
"I have to, uh, finish my work," he said hurriedly, avoiding eye contact. His wings spread wide and flung him into the air with a cloud of choking dust. A mountain of paperwork still awaited him.
Brand's back crackled as he stretched from sitting down for too long. The numbers had been double and triple-checked, and he could no longer put off going to Applejack. He shuffled his papers into a sizeable stack and tied it with twine before putting the whole bundle in a wooden crate. He walked to the farmhouse with the sheet summarizing the past month's changes.
Brand knew that Applejack would give him hell if his records were off. Accounting errors could significantly damage a business, and Sweet Apple Acres was Applejack's pride and joy.
He had never seen Applejack get angry at anypony, which did not help to calm his nerves. He knew that when a calm pony gets angry, that anger is a thing to be feared. If she got angry enough at the dragon, he could very well lose his job and his biggest paycheck. The thought made Brand's stomach clench. He did not like the idea of cleaning even more chimneys.
He had his fist raised to knock when Granny Smith swung open the door. "Why, hello there young'un," she said in her quavering voice. "Come in, come in, I've got hot cider on the stove right now."
She shuffled her walker around and back into the kitchen. Brand hunched under the frame and closed the door behind him. He nodded to Big Mac at the dinner table and walked down the hall to Applejack's office.
Well, here goes nothing. He swallowed audibly, knocked, and entered when Applejack's voice called out through the door.
"Alright, I finished a couple days early this month," he told Applejack as he handed her the paper.
The orange pony examined the paper. "That's wonderful. And I trust we're in fine shape this month as well?
Brand nodded as he sat in the chair across from the pony's desk. "You sure are, same as every month I've been working for you."
He reached across the desk and tapped a number with a dark red claw. "That right there is how much money you had last month. That's how much you spent, that's how much you took in, and that's the total amount in all your accounts, right there."
Applejack held up the paper. "A mighty fine job, as always. I trust I'll see you next month?"
Brand leaned back with his hands behind his head. "You know it. Next month is when all the orders start rolling in. I certainly won't be finishing early then."
Applejack chuckled as she handed over a check. "That right there is your pay for the work, plus a little bonus for working out our contract with Braeburn's business."
Brand's eyes widened when he looked at the number on the check. He glanced at Applejack. "Are you sure? This is much more than what you've paid me in the past."
He didn’t say so, but this check looked suspiciously like severance pay. This is when the other shoe drops.
Applejack nodded. "I'm sure. That merger is going to be a boon for our business. If things keep on going in the same direction, I just may have to hire you on full-time." Brand didn’t allow his surprise to show as he put his check in the pouch that hung around his neck.
"Well, I hope that doesn't happen. I still need to tutor Spike." What’s she playing at? Did she not catch the inconsistency?
Applejack shrugged. "Aw, it wouldn't happen for a year or two, I reckon. You've got plenty of time to teach that kid all there is to being a dragon."
Brand nodded. "Yeah. Have you gotten any orders yet?"
Applejack's eyes gleamed as she whispered, "You haven't heard?"
Brand look puzzled. "Heard what?"
Granny Smith shuffled in with a tray supporting two steaming mugs of cider on her walker, announcing, "This cider's piping hot, so don't y'all be burning your tongues or nothing."
Brand chuckled as he took his mug and said, "I don't think that'll be a problem, Mrs. Smith."
Granny Smith stared at Brand and replied, "Oh, you're right, of course. You'd probably drink it if it were on fire, being a dragon and all. Yessiree, dragons and their flames…" She mumbled to herself as she left the room. Applejack closed the door behind her.
Her eyes were still gleaming when she clopped back to her desk. "Our first batch has already been completely sold."
Brand pointed with his mug. "That's not so unusual."
Applejack grinned and leaned forward. "It is when it's bought entirely by one customer."
Brand paused with his drink in front of his lips. "Who the hell would need so many apples?"
The pony's grin widened. "That's the best part: the buyer is Princess Celestia. And she's not even asking for a bulk rate!"
A sudden realization struck Brand. Holy crap, she did miss it. I’m in the clear! To hide his relief, Brand took a gulp of cider.
After a bit of mental math, he said, "That comes out to covering most, if not all of our expenses for the month. Is Braeburn having the same luck?"
Applejack put down her cider. "Well now, I wouldn't call it luck. Even though we just shipped the princess's order, we've still got all our usual customers. With all these orders, Big Mac's worried we won't be able to fill 'em all in time."
"If I recall correctly, you have enough money in the accounts for some temporary positions. Perhaps you could hire a couple horses for the packing and delivery."
Applejack shrugged. "Maybe. In any case, I've still got a harvest to inventory."
Brand swallowed the entire mug of the cider and stood up. "Right, right. I'll just leave you to it then."
He opened the door and walked into the dining room. Big Macintosh looked up from his soup to ask, "Y'ain't staying for dinner?"
Brand shook his head. "Nah, I know you're busy with inventory and harvesting and whatnot, so I won't be a burden. Goodnight."
He had his hand on the knob when he heard Big Mac say, "Hold up a moment."
The dragon turned back to the horse. "Yes?"
"Thanks for all the help you've given us this past year."
Brand shrugged. "It's nothing, really."
Big Macintosh's orange mane swayed when he shook his head. He pointed at Brand with his spoon. "No, it's not nothing. You have no idea how much you've helped us. Applejack knows how to run a business, but she's no good at numbers. Neither am I. Granny Smith's vision is leaving her, and Apple Bloom's just too young. We couldn't expand our business because we never knew exactly how much money we were taking in, nevermind how much we were spending. We're in your debt."
Brand was stunned. That speech was the most Big Mac had ever said to him at any one time. Hell, that could have been the most the workhorse had ever said in one sitting. The dragon had always known he was helping Sweet Apple Acres by keeping track of their finances, but he had no idea he was this important to the business. Maybe she saw the mistake and just let it slide…
Brand stammered, "Well, uh, thank you. I-I don't really know how to respond to such high praise."
Big Macintosh simply nodded and returned to his meal.
Brand walked outside and pulled the door closed. He crouched, spread his wings and launched into the sky.
Night was the best time to fly, no question about it. The feel of the cool air flowing over his scales and the total emptiness of the clear sky made him feel like he was all alone on the world; just him, the stars, and the moon. Even better, that moon was full tonight, so he could clearly see his brick house all the way from the orchard. As he landed in the street, he could see the lights were still on in Sugarcube Corner.
Brand could smell chocolate and cake batter and sugar and oh, is that cinnamon? How in the world does that pony know my favorite foods so well? He resigned himself to visiting her tomorrow morning and turned around to unlock his steel front door.
He dropped his moneybag on the nightstand in the entryway. A walk through the kitchen and down to the basement brought Brand to his cold room. He selected a particularly high quality cider to celebrate his larger than normal paycheck. Wiping off the condensation from the underground moisture, Brand exited the room, pushing the door closed with a foot. A claw flicked the cap into the trash, the sound echoing through the largely empty, reinforced stone basement.
Brand walked back upstairs into his kitchen, taking care not to scuff his new hardwood flooring. He took a swig of the cider, looking out his window at the Everfree Forest in the distance. Timberwolf howls echoed in the distance and a dog yapped in retaliation.
Brand turned to the calendar next to the window and squinted at the cramped cursive on it. He chuckled to himself.
"Oh ho, looks like Spike's got a big day tomorrow."
