//------------------------------//
// Our Last Message 
// Story: A Fleeting Chance 
// by Nygell The Glutius 
//------------------------------//

Seasons passed, and the autumn of yesteryear descended upon Severyana once again.

The propaganda campaigns of the Revolution succeeded in rousing anti-monarchist sentiments among the more neutral ponies. Although the factory workers and farmers knew of their miserable states, the idea of harmony replaced by radical reforms made many of them hesitant to follow in our hoofsteps. Nonetheless, every month food became more precious and scarce thus sowing the seeds of wrath across Severyana’s disgruntled proletariat. Steel Stallion and his compatriots spread the message of our Revolution to all corners of Severyana from St. Petershoof to Sovenok. News from our “mailponies” traveling to and from Princessyn would often tell us of protests erupting all over the city. First they began as a few desperate beggars harassing the Regent Hall, then, as time passed, great masses would form, brimming with ponies invigorated with the courage to oppose their masters.

I entered the country home, finished with notifying the last of the messengers with some important developments. The home was devoid of ponies except for Gravel who reclined on one of the timeworn couches. The revolver laid next to her. I expected this loneliness, but I was still worried of it, for it signaled the beginning of our mission. Crimson sunlight cast rays through the windows, covering the room with shadows and blood. 

“Have you seen any patrols yet, Gravel?” I asked as I sat next to her.

“There’s more of ‘em than yesterday. They haven't got close, but they’ll arrive soon methinks. Ain’t nowhere else to search.” Gravel stared at the ceiling of the living room and sighed. “Are ya ready?”

“I’d like to think so. Was everypony else ready?”

She sighed. “Toffee, they’ve been ready fer a long time now.  Most of ‘em just didn’t know it for a while.”

We waited in the living room while the Sun lowered it’s burning visage. The sounds of Guards and carriages approached, yet we made no effort to flee. Suddenly, the door flew out into the house with a swarm of splinters and magical energy. Ponies rushed through the empty doorway, barking commands and brandishing firearms. The cloud of filth subsided, revealing a squad of Guards. Gravel and I stared at them. One of them came forward.

“Your days of hiding from the justice of harmony are up, vile dissenters! Especially for you, Gravel Bubble!” Some of the accompanying Guards began to shackle us. “You should have followed in the hoofsteps of your mailpony friend. Perhaps then you could have gone back to Princessyn as free ponies, but it seems to me that you both don’t deserve that.”

The bayonets of our escorts politely jabbed us to an awaiting metal cage outside of the home. Its interior was rusty with scratches of struggle adorning the iron bars serving as walls. Our hoofsteps made the shoddy carriage wail and screech in pain. Its gate shut close, and the carriage began moving, its cargo now loaded. Observing it through the cage’s numerous openings, Gravel mourned her second departure from the home. The only part of her that remained there was the revolver she hid in the time forsaken family couch.



Princessyn was never a quiet city, even while the Moon replaced the Sun. So called “Night-Mares” were typical accompaniment to the drinking, singing, and laughing at the numerous taverns in the city. Now the empty streets, bathed in gloom shades, were lacking any indications that ponies lived here, aside from the litter. I gazed up at the stars and the Mare in the Moon. She returned the gaze as if to sympathize with my current imprisonment. The carriage passed by the elusive industrial district, from which a dapper mare, grief in her eyes, was leaving. She glanced at me, but kept staring at Gravel maliciously until we were out of her sight. 

The carriage lurched suddenly, signaling the arrival of our destination. Before me was a fortress of stone, iron mines, and broken souls. Our Guards promptly led us inside through a series of corridors and stairways until we arrived at an atrium lined with cells on top of cells on either side and catwalks leading to the higher alcoves. The Guards took us through this Grand Hallway until we arrived at one of the cells on the ground floor. A prisoner already resided within, but he kept his distance from us when we were tossed into his previously solitary cell. One of the Guards spat at us.

“Get used to your new home. You’ll be seeing and working it for the rest of your lives. A fitting punishment for trying to disrupt harmony, don’t you think?” She cackled at our glares before shutting the iron bar gate and left with her companions. Once they were out of earshot, Gravel and I laughed quietly to ourselves. I was the first to regain my senses.

“Right. So we’re in. When do we start, Gravel?”

She wiped a tear from suppressing her giggling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. We got plenty of time to take care of this. ‘Sides, Steel Stallion’s gonna need quite a bit to prepare for his master plan.” She grinned deviously. “They haven’t broken us, Toffee, and we ain’t gonna let ‘em.”

I returned the expression. “We certainly won’t.” In the dim light of lanterns, I could barely see the rest of the inmates in their cells, but their forms were that of normal ponies. Some I could even recognize as the mailponies that once delivered our messages. “This place is burning with potential. We just got to help them realize that.”

Gravel yawned. “We can’t do that without some shut-eye though. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll plan tomorrow.”

Although the cold nipped at me through the pathetic blankets provided by the more miserable cots, the warmness of my spirit comforted me throughout the night. The Beasts were also quiet, almost dead, but I knew they were ready to pounce.



“ I want that jill of a mare dead! She can’t get away with murder like this!”

“Calm down Ma’am. She’ll be punished accordingly, but even as bad as she is, we can’t just spontaneously execute ponies.”

“Not even for bits?”

“You would have to take those to the courts, Ma’am.”

“Hmph. I suppose I’ll have to stop my weekly ‘subsidies’ to your ‘retirement plan’ then.”

“On second thought, I can make an exception for you. I think I just understood the urgency of this late justice.”

“I’m glad you see reason, Warden. Now my husband can rest in peace once you rid the world of that...mare.”