“I see, so this is what it was like before I got here. Would you care to explain the rebellion to me; or at least the more interesting and worthwhile part, the siege on Canterlot?” His viperous voice wrapped around her mind and began to dominate it, using her like its toy. She silently complied and returned to verbally painting the gruesome picture of the rebellion.
*****
Hell. That’s all that could describe the sight of Canterlot on that fateful morning. The sun had just begun to rise when the rebellion laid out a blatant, full on charge at the Canterlot walls, charging the gates and battering against them, breaking the locks and smashing through them. Deafening battle cries and terrible shrieks filled the air as they charged, driving blades, bayonets, and outright rifle barrels into the faces of guards and innocent civilians alike. The sounds of the gunshots echoed throughout Canterlot as shrieks and screams, wailing and pleading all occurred at once like a hellish symphony. Countless bodies fell to the ground, limp and cold, the icy grip of death yet to relinquish them. Blood painted the walls and floors in a sickly crimson that mixed with the bile and bodily fluids, creating a putrid greenish substance. The odor was worse than Death’s own stench. Still, the rebels pressed onward, breaking through the lines and fortification of the Resistance. The guards fought valiantly, gunning down many members in the first wave, but there was a power in this that not even the Rebels were aware of. Their drive and determination to succeed, their will to prevail was unparalleled by any creature that had ever existed. They fought until their last breaths, some even after they were dead. It was truly a beautiful disaster. The chaos giving a whole new glow to Canterlot’s once marvelous and lavish walls.
“Fight brothers and sisters! Our time to fight has come! Prove yourselves worthy of this new day and we shall rise victorious!” Snow had shouted. Throughout all of the madness, all of the mayhem and chaos, the blood-curling shrieks and heart-wrenching cries, his voice seemed to carry and touch the ears of every soul that fought. His soul, his pure passion, seemed to ignite a spark in each and every soldier, setting their hearts ablaze and rallying them. The lights of the fires in their eyes seemed to dance and flicker, sending a storm of fear into the guards and resistance. Snow pushed forward, leading the troops as he swung his blades of pure ice, tearing through the soldiers like scissors through a measly sheet of paper. This only seemed to skyrocket their morale through the clouds and into the heavens. He pressed forward with his army, charging valiantly and without rest to the stairway of the castle. It was here that he realized how close to his ultimate goal he truly was. He saw it and in that moment, that shred of time, that fraction of life, the world as we knew it was forever corrupted with his passion. That little twinge of passion that flared within him sent his forces overboard, causing a domino effect of pure passion through the troops. Some say that their eyes began to glow a rebellious blue as they fought, casting a diffuse and ominous glow over all of Canterlot.
He darted up the stairs, jumping and twisting through the hailstorm of bullets and arrows, little scratches and nicks everywhere. Blood trickled down his body, filling him with a warm and somewhat whole feeling. He drove his ice blades straight down the barrels of two guards rifles, jamming the bullets as they pulled the trigger a second time, igniting the jammed bullet and sending shards of shrapnel into their faces and bodies. They screamed bloody murder but he pushed forward, using his magic to deflect bullets and arrows while shooting darts of ice into the guards’ skulls and body parts. He battered his way through the Throne Room doors and stood straight as he stared at the two Princesses. As soon as he had broken the doors, the rebels had advanced up the castle stairways and were now fending off guards. The princesses gave him a look of pure hatred as he smiled at them, obviously full of pride in his accomplishment of seizing what was considered the most highly fortified city in all of Equestria. Without uttering a single word, he charged at them, summoning two blades of the strongest and purest ice. He launched at them and they met him with magical blades, matching him blow for blow as he relentlessly battered at the blades. After a few minutes of darting around the Throne Room and having his attacks thwarted by their blades, something in him snapped and he stopped. Everything stopped.
There are always these moments in life, those times when everything seems misaligned. Those times when things don’t add up and some key piece of a plan goes fatally wrong. Those minor fractions of a second that could’ve meant a universe of difference. Well, this was not one of those times. Every single piece of Snow’s plan had fallen together impeccably, almost as if the Goddess herself had wanted this to happen. A flicker of light switched on in his body and his emotions began to burst from his soul. His eyes shifted into a pure icy blue, his horn seemed to pulsate with a new found magic and he felt a whole new wave of energy crash over him. He smiled a very sinister smile as his blades began to emit a blue aura, leaving an icy trail of energy behind them as he swung at the Princesses magical blades. It was shortly after this moment that something spectacular happened, something so improbable that not even the Goddess could have foreseen it. Snowstorm shattered the magical blades of the princesses and darted at them, driving the blades through their stomachs as they drove blades of raw magic into his chest and stomach. Snow smiled at them and they knew what he did. This war was over, and, against the popular belief, the rebellion had succeeded. Snow collapsed backwards onto the ground, his fighting spirit still prevalent and its energy still being discharged from his body. The princesses looked at the blades in their stomachs and did one last thing; they made one final effort to end this overthrow.
A small flicker of light illuminated the room as they touched their horns together, draining all of the light from the room and from the sky above Canterlot. The eyes of the two princesses radiated an immense amount of light as an energy more pure than anything that could ever be recreated filled within them. The raw emotions, love, and spirit filled them as that energy transferred from their souls into their horns. A burst of magic came from each of them like twin dragons, wrapping and coiling around each other as it shot into the heavens, piercing the veil of darkness and illuminating the sky. At first, it looked as if this were just a beacon of hope, a desperate plea for help. But the full magnitude of the magic dragons was seen as they drove straight into the sky and combusted. The pure magic tore apart the very confines of time and space as they tore open the sky and revealed a sheer white hole. Then, without warning, the dragons dissolved and the princesses fell limply to the ground, smiles plastered on their faces as they were welcomed by death. They may have lost their rule, they may have lost their castle and their lives, but the one thing that was never stripped from them by the rebels was their spirit and will to succeed, no matter how drastic the measures they took were. Little did the rest of the world know what would ensue in the days following that fateful dawn.