The Fall of a Nation

Work had made Bon feel better. At least for a while, that was. After a week of rigorous logging, the feeling of dread and anxiety had started to return. No longer was simple physical extortion enough to keep her mind off Lyra. She had tried to avoid getting on the move this fast, but there was simply no way she could contain herself for much longer. Fluttershy is getting weary with all this work, and Goldengrape certainly wants to get together with his wife too, she had thought. Even Lyra had expressed her will for Bon to return through a letter… but there was one big problem: the fight for Coal Mountain, an important strategic point between Ponyville and Canterlot was still raging. It had turned out that the Fillydelphian division Bon and her fellows had seen marching through the woods had been headed there. With gryphon support, the Reds had also managed to take over a large part of the railway leading to Canterlot, where a stalemate had formed.

A light breeze met Bon’s face as she trotted towards the farmhouse of Dry Season from a shed. When the mare reached the house, her mane was already covered with the snow that silently fell from the sky. One shake of a body and a knock later, Bon was inside the warmness of the building.

“Good work today, all of you,” Dry Season said, taking a long gulp of some of his all-too-familiar ale from a dirty-looking tankard for the disgust of Fluttershy and Goldengrape, both already eating one of the blander potato dishes of his. “Bon, I heard from your friends that you plan on leaving?”

“Yes, the plan’s to get on the move at sunrise tomorrow,” Bon responded.

“I can’t hold you off. But there’s something I want to show all of you before we part. If you’re a well-mannered mare respecting your elders, you should move your departure a day forward.”

“What exactly do you want to show us?” Goldengrape asked.

“Oh, you’ll see. But I think it’s important.”

“Is it where you buried your wife and son?” Bon curiously continued. Celestia damn me, I shouldn’t have said that…

The brown stallion’s smile dropped as he stared at Bon for a couple of long seconds. Then it returned. “You dumb foal. You already know where the graveyard is. This is something else.”

--

The party of three followed in Dry Season’s hoofsteps, eager to know what he had in mind, the wind freezing their faces. For the first time during this winter clothes were really needed, as the draught combined with the low temperature clenched into one’s very bones. The stallion had told that the place he insisted them to see was not very far away, but it was still an hour’s hike. There were no paths in the snow, but Dry Season seemed to know exactly where he was going. The landscape was becoming rugged, and large blocks of snow betrayed where boulders stood. In the summer this would have been quite a walk, but the thick layer of snow over the apparently rocky ground made things a lot easier.

Suddenly it appeared from behind a huge rock: a small and dilapidated tower made of stone, barely still standing on a flat hilltop.

“This, my little ponies, is the Rockhold Keep. Well, in today’s maps it’s called the Shattered Keep, but that’s quite understandable. Nopony really wants to remember the name of this place. What happened here ages ago has probably never been written into any fancy history books,” Dry Season started. “We might as well get in. The walls still keep the breeze away.”

All four climbed up the snowy hill, their curiosity now awoken. “What happened here? What do you want to tell us? We’re all ears,” Bon said.

“Oh, it’s a long story. This keep was built almost 200 years ago to establish an Equestrian presence in this forest and keep the monsters at bay, as some of you might know,” Dry Season explained with a serious voice, smirking to Fluttershy. “That’s the official reason. But in reality, this tower was built for something else entirely: it was a prison, isolated from any population centers, only an insignificant and poor village close to it for providing food. For decades, the most dangerous captives of them all were imprisoned here. Until one faithful day, when-“

“Is this just another conspiracy of yours?” Bon interrupted.

“No. This is the conspiracy,” the stallion continued, unfazed. “As I was saying, this keep was a high security prison for a long time. The villagers never knew that, confident that their Princess wouldn’t have any reason to lie to her citizens. But I don’t think she ever knew the truth about this place.”

“What, the Princess didn’t know? That doesn’t make any sense!” Goldengrape protested.

Dry Season sighed and facehoofed. “Please shut up and let me explain. No, the Princess didn’t know. If she had known, there wouldn’t be a civil war going on right now. Nopony was supposed to know, but fate got in the way of the Royal Council’s plans.”

“Wow, this really is a new low for you, I wou-“ Bon’s sentence was interrupted by hoof to the face. Dry Season was starting to look angry. “Okay, okay, you speak, we listen,” Bon said, rolling her eyes.

“It was a warm and windy day in June. My grandfather was fishing at the Hoofvale River, just half a mile from this place, when a ragged and bloodied mare ran by him. She was all hysterical, and the young buck escorted her back to the family farmhouse, still in use by me. There she as washed up. The ponies couldn’t believe their eyes: in front of them they saw a battered and bruised Flaming Forge - a supposedly-dead earth pony, the former leader of the Merchant Union who went missing a year back during the annual Ursa Minor hunt of the Canterlotian elite.“ Dry Season shot an empty-eyed look at the large hole in the wall of the keep.

”She told them only the important matters. The nobility was not fond of Forge’s political activism and vocal support for civil rights and a free election of a more modern council, and thus staged her death. For a year she had been held in the keep, until the old hydra from the river had for some reason gone on a rampage, killing all the guards and other prisoners in here. Nopony ever got to know why that happened, but the tower was never used after the incident. The next day, the mare had left without a note.“

“Now that she was free, Forge’s quest for the freedom of ponies was all but over. She went on to lead the mutiny of Baltimare in 838. Her identity was never confirmed in any official source, and with the help of Princess Celestia the Royal Guard quickly subdued any resistance her forces could offer. The movement she started back then never really died, but it changed its form. During the years, the proletariat slowly gained political influence, and not even the propaganda of the Council could convince our misled but well-intentioned Princess to turn her back to all the hard-working but economically struggling ponies. The Merchant Union was corrupted as the Council had the power to appoint its members, but the Worker’s Union grew larger and larger during the years.“

“You know the rest. Princess Celestia organized the first nationwide elections to create a balancing power to the Royal Council before her inevitable death, and the First Parliament was formed. As her sickness got worse, the socialist-majority Parliament was dissolved and exiled, and the Council was again in the helm. This time, not even Celestia would be in their way. Equestria was tormented by a terrible famine while the nobility continued their gluttony, sucking the blood of the working class and subduing every protest and strike with violence.”

“But we would be in the way,” he continued with a wry smile. “This time the revolution will be nothing like the one attempted eighty years ago. We have masses of ponies. We have the major industrial cities of our country. We have gryphon support. We have the Consortium, led by none other than the Element of Magic herself! Perhaps we’ll even have the pegasi, now that Cloudsdale has once again declared its independence. We will win this war.”

“That might happen,” Bon replied bemusedly. “But at what cost? Are you prepared to tear the very foundations of our society apart? How many ponies are you willing to kill to meet your goals? Hell, it’s entirely possible that you’d attack Ponyville and get Lyra killed.”

“It saddens me that so many ponies are willing to stand in the way of progress. But it’s their choice. We can’t give our enemies mercy. I know they won’t do that either,” Dry Season said. “We will never get rid of the slavery of the proletariat without a change in power. All that stuff I told isn’t really that important at all: while the injustice has always been there, all we’re really asking for is a better life. When you’re dying of starvation, fancy anthems and freedoms you’ll never use anyway are nothing. Such things can never be accomplished, when the leaders of the country steal from the common pony in order to have parties. The behaviour of many farmers is even worse; holing up all of the food just for your personal use ‘because it’s my right’ is no excuse. I have always shared from my stock whenever I could, as that’s the right thing to do.”

“Nopony deserves to be killed, no matter what crimes they have committed – that’s something a certain mare has taught me over my years in Ponyville. And farmponies do have their rights, no matter whether you want to use them or not,” Bon proudly declared, turning her head towards Fluttershy. She wasn’t there.

“I hoped you would undertand,” the stallion grunted. “But I see it’s too much to ask from you to use your common sense. A shame, really. I thought I could convince you to join us.”

Bon had already dashed out, but Goldengrape determinedly pointed his hoof at Dry Season. “Give me one of those Luna-damned red bands already. I have already considered this before, and this is probably the last possibility for a long time to enroll.”

Fluttershy was leaning against the outer wall. Tears were slowly flowing from her eyes, forming a glistering stream on her coat; water froze fast in the cold winter weather. Bon emerged from the doorway, slowing her pace and walking towards the pegasus.

“Something wrong, Flutters?” Bon asked with a worried look

“Oh. He just made me remember all the awful things that have happened.”

“Ponies die. That’s life now.”

“I know… But it wasn’t always like that. The six of us always had so much fun together. Now we… we’re … f-fighting each other a-and …” the Pegasus whimpered, her voice dying out. Bon hugged Fluttershy gently.

“It will get better, trust me. This will eventually be over,” Bon responded, her eyes watering up too, all the anxiousness and feelings of fear taking the better of her.

And there they cried together, not aware how long. Time was irrelevant.

--

16. 2. 918

My beloved Lyra,

This will probably be the last letter you receive for some time. We have decided to get on the move, as we can’t simply stand loitering around and logging for an old and war-mongering buck. We aren’t certain what our next destination is, but I will inform you as soon as we reach a town with a mail office. That might take some time, though.

The last few days here have been quite interesting and confusing. My uncle took us to the Shattered Keep, telling us a weird conspiracy involving his grandfather. Usually his ramblings are not to be taken seriously, but this time he seemed to believe in what he said.

His reasoning has also led me to doubt some decisions I have made in the last few weeks. However, those choices can’t be changed and I must simply accept responsibility of my actions if I did wrong. I still think my judgment was good enough on those matters, though. And no, please don’t ask. I wish to talk about these things in more detail only in person.

Your loving wife,

Bon Bon

--

The morning was not an ideal one for marching: strong gusts of wind blew snow all over the road. The trio had had to buy the warm winter clothes from Dry Season, as being naked in this kind of weather would have exposed them to hypothermia and falling sick. The long walk began in the early hours of the day, the sun not yet risen.

Did I do the wrong thing, leaving her in there? Should I feel bad for it?

The road was covered by a thick layer of snow, making the walk excruciatingly difficult. Still they knew that they’d have to carry on, as their rations would only last for so many days. They wouldn’t want to resort in hunting, after all.

No, I shouldn’t feel bad. The Reds have no more right to hurt other ponies than anyone else. Freedom and happiness can never be accomplished through violence.

“What’s in your mind, Bon?” Fluttershy asked, looking a bit worried.

“Nothing important, Flutters. I was just thinking about Fillydelphia.”

Yes… nothing important at all.

The pegasus took a measuring look at Bon, not saying anything. Fluttershy was empathetic enough to know when something was bothering her, but the mare’s face didn’t reveal her thoughts.

She can’t know. It’s not possible. I should feel no regret.

****

Lyra was trotting on a field of roses. Have I been here before? She gazed up at the sky, lit by hundreds of stars and a beautiful moon. A quite luminescent moon indeed...

Suddenly she was awake, a painfully bright lamp blinding her eyes. The world was filled with noises, the radio crackling somewhere and horribly loud alarms almost tearing her ears out. Lyra should have risen up grabbed her rifle, but she couldn’t. Paralyzed by fear, she dug her head deep in the pillows, trying not to hear the terrible noises from the outside. In that attempt she was futile.

“Into positions! Get the machine gun ready, now!” she could hear a stallion shouting across the street. “They’re at 5 o’clock! Fire at will!”

Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-BOOM**

The entire house shook. Lyra was completely still. She saw nothing, but had heard and felt the entire force of the explosion. There was a frightening silence, lasting a few seconds, and Lyra was starting to panic.

“Medic! Help! Help!” she heard the voice of the same stallion. Oh Celestia oh Celestia what should I do what should I do

“Please, no! Don’t do it, I swe-“ crack

Lyra passed out.

--

“Time to wake up, Lyra,” she could hear a faint whisper in her ear. Lyra’s eyes shot open in an instant. Over her was the head of Twinkle. “The Reds came at night. I heard the noises of fighting just outside there,” she said, waving her hoof at the wall.

“I failed,” Lyra said, only able to feel shame.

“It’s okay. That happens to many ponies. You are not a soldier, Miss Heartstrings. Perhaps it was for the good that you didn’t or couldn’t join the battle. You would most likely have been the one to die first, if you had,” Twinkle assured her.

Before Lyra could reply, Twinkle put a hoof on the mare’s mouth and continued. “Don’t you start to argue with me. Besides, the town is still in White hands. I heard from the radio that the Reds were only retreating through Ponyville.”

“What, retreating? There’s no retreating from Canterlot!” Lyra confusedly let out, pushing the other mare’s hoof aside.

Twinkle sighed. “Not from Canterlot, young Miss. The Battle of Coal Mountain is over. It turned out that the Council had an ace in its sleeve: when the day changed, the Free Army of Cloudsdale joined the fight on your side. The two Red divisions were pushed back, and over 700 prisoners of war were taken.”

Lyra turned her head, noticing that the lights in the house were indeed on. It looked like she had lost herself for quite a bit, as the rays of the morning sun were already peeking from the windows, and she was laying on her sofa in the living room. What she tells must be true. The coal plants are running once again.

“I thought the pegasi were our enemies,” Lyra said, still doubt in her voice.

“Not anymore, dear. The Royal Council has acknowledged the independency of Cloudsdale. The radiopony said that the pegasi wanted to unite against the gryphon threat,” Twinkle responded.

Now Lyra was already trotting towards the entry, curious about seeing the signs of the battle that occurred last night. She opened the door with a dull thud.

What was before her eyes wasn’t pretty. The building on the other side of the street had a huge hole in its side, and thrash was littered all over the ground. What she also noticed was the large amount of dried blood splattered across the grey walls, making her feel sick.

If I had been stronger, I could have prevented this. It would have been easy take aim at the attackers from my bedroom window, Lyra thought, cringing.

The soothing voice of Twinkle was right behind her. “I know you feel bad, but I still think this was for the best. Besides, you should stop staring at that mess and get going. It was announced twenty minutes ago that the entire White Guard of Ponyville should gather to the City Hall as fast as they can. I bet there’ll be a status report and some important announcements.”

“Should I even go there?” Lyra asked. “I doubt they really want a coward like me.”

“Oh Miss, I’m sure they’ll want everypony they can get. It’s your choice whether to go there or not, but I don’t think a sudden resignation from the Guard would be taken lightly,” Twinkle replied with a hint of sadness in her smile.

Great… just great.

--

Loads of ponies, almost the entire town, was stacked in front if the City Hall. Lyra was standing at the back of the crowd, still having to wait for almost an hour for the occasion to truly start. When the mass of restless ponies finally stopped growing, Mayor Mare began to speak.

“My little ponies, dear citizens of Equestria. Last night our town was baptized in fire, as the Reds retreated through our fields and streets, looting the homes of many of innocent ponies and stealing most of our food supplies. In honor of the 38 ponies who died defending Equestria and Ponyville, we shall have a minute of silence.”

For a minute, nopony dared to move a muscle. The atmosphere in the crowd was tense, and Lyra let out a small gasp as she remembered to breathe again.

“Thank you,” the Mayor continued. “Now to the news: with the pillage the Reds pulled off last night our food supplies are almost gone, and we can’t expect to get any help from the surrounding towns, as they are short on everything too. My solution might sound terrible to you, but there’s no alternative except for a miserable death of hunger: we must begin hunting again.”

This came as a shock for many a pony in the crowd, and objections were heard. However, Mayor Mare had made up her mind.

“Tomorrow, Guard Captain Macintosh will lay out a schedule. Each day, eight ponies in groups of two will enter the Everfree in order to gather us meat. Please do not act like it’s the end of the world; I know most of you went over this during the last famine too. In times of need, we sometimes have to abandon our ideals in order to survive. And there's no need to worry about the Reds there anymore, as it's almost certain that they followed the troops passing through our town. Now please greet our Captain, for he wanted to speak too.”

The crowd cheered; ‘Big Mac’ was very popular among all of the Guard. He was a stubborn and skilled fighter who had already proved himself in the skirmishes with Gryphonian troops in the Northern War.

The red stallion stepped up to the platform with the determined look of a harassed farmer. He coughed violently for a moment, and then started to speak: “Tis’ been nothing. When Ah was fighting the gryphons on our Northern border two years back, we were but a bunch of overconfident volunteers. Now the overconfidence has transformed into trust in our fighting capabilities. Ah know many of ya ponies don’t know much ‘bout this ‘war’ thingy. But ya don’t have to be alone in that. Ah, along with a bunch of other veterans have decided to start advanced military training in our very town. We will train every willing mare and stallion to some specialization, be it sharpshooting, sabotaging or strategic analysis of the battlefield. This might not be as perfect as the training given to us by the Prench, but it’ll certainly help us strive on the fields of battle.”

Many ponies were cheering in agreement, but the red stallion silenced them with a single wave of a hoof.

“Many of ya ponies might be sad for losing their loved ones during the night, but we don’t have much time for sorrow until the war is over. However, every single soldier fallen on the field of battle will be given the funeral of a hero. Let us now sing together a bit of something for the fallen; our hearts will never forget them. This is the song that we proudly marched under during the Battle of Narcolt,” Macintosh finished.

A white screen was raised behind the platform, and the lyrics of the old and familiar March of the National Guard were projected on it. A small choir composed of mainly stallions started up, quickly followed by the crowd of ponies:

“Deep is our blow, our wrath never matched,

we have no mercy to show.

Our hope in the tip of our sword is on,

may the faith in our hearts stay alit.

Our cry of war, enchanting, rings out,

us to the ranks it calls.

Our courage never die may out

till' our nation from strife is freed.

Our courage never die may out

till' our nation from strife is freed.

When bowed were heads of ponies, the land

we guardsponies still had faith.

In our hearts was a night, eternal and dark,

but in the minds a thought holy, just:

We shall rise as a force to reach a new dawn,

to fight for our homes with pride.

New tales of Equestria will be born:

it grows, it rises, it triumphs.

New tales of Equestria will be born:

it grows, it rises, it triumphs.

Seaddle, Hoofington, the mounts of Canterlot:

one and great is the reign of our country.

Its cause can never be driven by fear,

that the Northern skies us remind.

Its Solar Flag is carried aloft

by the hooves of ponies strong.

Over the thunder of gory fields

our nation will shine once more.

Over the thunder of gory fields

our nation will shine once more.”

Lyra felt a surge of determination bellow up in her mind. This was why she had joined: To protect her home, her country, and most importantly, her love. The horrible sound of a pony’s skull shattering was now a mere echo buried inside the deep reaches of her consciousness. I can never let emotions take control of me like that again. I must be stronger.