Prologue

To whoever is reading this

I don’t know why I’m writing this, I don’t have any friends or family to speak of, not anymore, not after what I’ve done. I hope writing this will give me some sort of solace, but I doubt it. Nopony is even going to read this, and if they do, it’ll probably just be considered the ramblings of a mad stallion. The rambling of a terrorist...

If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. The seal on the envelope will only be broken when I die, I used my magic to make sure of that. Which means you just looted my corpse, and you should feel terrible for that.

I am, or was a member of the Dead Horse unit. The Canterlot guard’s most highly trained, experienced, and incompetent ragtag group of Expendable Ponies for the past thousand years.

If I succeed, which will mean this letter will be pointless and forgotten, Dead Horse will be remembered for more than that.

If I fail, then I will have died for my country as I fought against it.

Enclosed with this note is a sort of ‘Journal’ I’ve kept over the years. It has detailed my life since before I joined the Dead Horse unit.

I will let it tell my story, for what i’ve seen can’t be forgotten.

Not again.

-Velocity