Harmony Games

by Thessur

Chapter 2: Choosing Day

“Quit fussin’ Ma! I’ll be fine.”

I squirm away from the brush Ma holds in her mouth. We got up early, even for us, to get ready for the Choosing ceremony. She has been chasing me and my little brother around our two-room house all morning, brushing and re-brushing our manes and tails, making sure we’ve washed our faces and behind our ears, picking out old bits of ribbon for my mane and generally worrying over us and trying to hide her concern.

“Honestly child! It’s no wonder you got that nickname. Just look at all the dust in your feathers and mane.”

Ma shakes her head and ties one more ribbon into my mane. Where she scrounged up all these lovely blue and green ribbons I have no idea. I would rather not think about what she traded away for them. Old and outdated as they are by Canterlot standards, they’re still pretty.

It’s an hour before dawn by the time Ma is finally done making me and Bluesky presentable. Dad leads the way to the center of town. Once we’re there, he gives me a gentle nuzzle, then points towards the roped off area by the statue of Our Ruler were the other youngsters old enough to be chosen are being gathered.

“See you in a bit sweet-heart.” He whispers in my ear before trotting away with Ma and Blue. Right now, all I want to do is run after them, but I give myself a little shake and head over to join Redneck and the others in the choosing area.

There is one place in town that is kept free of dust, and that is the Statue of Celestia, right in the center of town. The statue isn’t just of Her Highness, it also features a much smaller alicorn lying at her feet. The smaller alicorn appears to sleep peacefully as Celestia stands over her, her wings spread protectively. Our ruler’s image has a determined, yet kind look on its face. The whole thing is carved of the finest marble, with real jewels and gold for the crown, collar and shoes. There is a silver plaque just below the smaller alicorn, reading “Rest peacefully Luna” and in bigger lettering, carved into the stone pedestal is the message “Never Forget.” Also carved on the pedestal are the names of every winner our district has ever had. It’s funny, in a horrible way. We make sure we remember the winners, but we can’t seem to forget those lost fast enough.

There is already a big crowd by the time we get to Town Center. The area in front of Her Majesty’s statue is roped off in three sections, one for each type of pony. I am directed to join the other Pegasus fillies on the right side of our section; the colts go to the left.

Us first-timers get shoved to the front by the older ones. This, I’m told by the C-Troll smiling unpleasantly as she watches over my section, makes it easier for the cameras to see us all. There are a lot of us. Not just the youngsters of the town, but all the fillies and colts from the surrounding farms are here with their families.

There are a lot more out-of-towners than there are the rest of us. The families that live farther out tend to have a lot of children. Dad says it’s because they need as many hooves as they can get out there, because so many die young before they can repopulate the workforce. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear him say it, but the only thing separating where Blue and I sleep from Ma and Dad’s bed is an old curtain.

I notice that my section is right next to the “pen” for the earth pony colts. I bounce a little to see if I can spot Redneck. I think I spy a flash of green and red, but before I can get a better look, the sound of the anthem blasts out from the speakers. Everypony in the square falls silent as the last notes of the anthem fade and Mayor Grey flanked by a pair of “Celestia’s Hooves,” the most feared of the C-Trolls. They were a matched pair, black coats and gold armor shining in the light of the rising sun. They’ve probably been magically dyed. Pure black coats like that just ain’t natural.

I fidget a bit as Mayor Grey starts his usual speech. My wings feel odd and scratchy where the primaries Dad clipped last night rub against my back. It may only be one day since I turned twelve, but the C-Trolls are extra strict on a choosing day and if he hadn’t done it for me, one of them would have done it a lot less gently before shoving me into the pen and slapping a fine on my record for my family to pay. I saw just that happen to one of the other fillies up front with me, an out-of-towner. One of her wings looks like it was dislocated when she struggled and hangs limply by her side.

“Ahem, Fillies and Gentlecolts, we are gathered here today to *aherm* celebrate the beginning if the one-thousandth Harmony *harrumph* Games and to remember the sacrifice made by our Great, Wise, Most Wonderful Protector, Her Royal Holy Highness, Empress Celestia.*Cough*”

Every year, Mayor Earl Grey makes the same speech. The only thing that ever changes is the number of the upcoming Harmony Games. He goes on for some time about the mercy of the Empress in allowing them to live when they deserved death for being related to the traitor six. He praises her generosity in providing for them and for guiding the sun through the sky every day and the moon every night. Then he reads out The Edict, the one where the Harmony Games were first instated as the price for the Great Rebellion. After that he rambles about the mercy of the Empress in granting the winner of the Games her favor and what a great honor it is to be chosen. He ends with an admonishment to all of us youngsters who will be chosen to fight hard to win for the Field district.

“*Herm* May She ever show *ahem* us Her favor.”

He steps back and Shiny Bauble, the Canterlot Central officer in charge of our district’s Chosen, takes his place. It seems his theme for this year is ‘diamonds and rainbows’. His white mane and tail have been dyed with rainbow polka-dots he is sporting a vest encrusted with a rainbow of gemstones. The effect actually isn’t quite as awful as last year’s outfit. The florescent green had looked even more garish than the bright pink stallion’s usual eye-burning color choices. I will never understand Canterlot fashion.

Behind Bauble is Old Cider, Field District’s only living Game Winner. He is drunk. He’s always drunk. Still, most of us in the district are kind of fond of the old fart. At least he’s not as bad as some of the Winners in Candy District. I don’t know what they’re on, but they make Cider look like a tea-totaler whenever we see them on the broadcasts.

“Greetings my darling youngsters of District Five!” Bauble gushes and poses for the camera-ponies, his Canterlot accent as ridiculous as ever. “I hope you are all feeling as fabulous as I am this morning.”

“C’mon Dawdle, don’ eew thin theesh poor kids ‘ve had ‘nough of speechifyin’ for one mornin?” Old Cider pokes at the pink CC official with his half empty tankard. “Jee-ust git on with it an’ hit th’ button already.” The old amber-colored unicorn hiccups and tries to take a sip from his hovering mug and just misses, landing on the stage in an almost graceful face-plant.

A faint ripple of laughter goes through the crowd, it is strained, but it is genuine and not at all mean spirited. Sometimes I think Cider does things like this just to ease a bit of the tension of choosing day. Bauble looks put-upon and sighs.

“Well since the gravity of the moment is lost I suppose I have no choice.” He trots forward and bows elaborately (Bauble does everything elaborately) to the statue of the Empress, then he pulls out his remote control, which is also encrusted with rainbow gems this year, and presses down on the sun-shaped button in the center. With a musical chime, a small slot opens in the base of the statue and a slip of parchment comes out. The Pink pony holds it up and reads aloud.
“Earth Pony colt, Grindstone! Earth pony filly…”

I don’t hear which filly gets chosen, I’m too relieved that Redneck is safe again this year. The chosen pair march slowly up to stand on the stage behind Bauble and Cider. The names of the unicorns are read next. They are Rockjaw, a big colt who looks like he is just barely under sixteen, this was probably his last year; and a dainty filly a couple years older than me named Crystal.

“Last but not least, Pegasus colt, Silverlining! Pegasus filly, Featherlight!”
The chosen colt heads forward, his head held high to join the rest on the stage. I look around for a moment before it sinks in. I see a few others looking around in confusion, trying to spot the last chosen. Nopony calls me by my proper name except Ma, so the few startled glances that fix on me as I slowly step up to the stage are understandable. Everypony but my family knows me as Dusty, short for Feather-Duster.

Now that I’m up on stage I can finally see Redneck. His face is an expressionless mask, looking nothing like his usual enthusiastic, expressive self. I wonder what my face looks like. I hope I’m not crying or anything. I don’t think I am, but I’m so numb right now that I can’t be sure. I try to keep from seeing my family, but I spot Bluesky standing on Dad’s back. I look away quickly, but not quickly enough to miss the look of shock on his face and despair on Dad’s. I don’t see Ma’s expression; she has her face buried in Dad’s mane.

I hear half-hearted claps and forced cheers and Bauble’s voice finishing up his usual speech. “-ever show them Her favor. Now let’s all head to the train station. The families of the Chosen will have the opportunity for brief farewells on the platform while the train is taking on fuel.”

The pink stallion turns around to face us, giving Old Cider a nudge to get him to do the same. Cider ‘accidentally’ sloshes a bit of the contents of his mug onto Bauble’s immaculately groomed coat. Bauble sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes skyward as if to ask the heavens what he has done to deserve being forced to endure the company of the drunken fool beside him.

“Hello Darlings! If you would please line up in your pairs and follow me, we’ll be going. I and *uhg…* Mr. Cider will be your escorts to Canterlot Central. I will advise you for your interviews and other appearances and Mr. Cider will coach you through training. I look forward to our time together with great anticipation.”

We lined up as directed. No one daring to so much as take a step out of line with the C-troll elite guards looming beside us. I trot automatically beside the Pegasus colt. My legs seem to be on autopilot as my mind swirls with confusion, terror and sadness.

Once we board that train, I will never see my family again. I won’t get to say goodbye to Redneck. I’ll probably die a blank-flank. For some reason, that last thought lights a tiny spark of fury in my heart. I know I probably won’t last very long once the Games start, but if there is anything at all I can do, I will fight back and somehow show them that they can do what they like to my body, but they can’t touch my soul.

Comments

[Clockwork Heart]

A Hunger Games crossover? I am conflicted! I love ponies and i loved the book, but the idea of ponies being that barbaric? It scares me a little.

Eh, I'm open-minded. I'll read it in the morning when I'm conscious enough to comprehend writing. I swear though, if you hurt Fluttershy, to the moon with you then!

I joke of course. I'll post a better reaction later. But for now, sleep.

[GearShift]

Hmmm, may i suggest putting a little more description into your writing? just as a bit of friendly advice, right now it sounds a little cold.

Otherwise, this is one of the few stories i will have on my tracking list.

[Thessur]

Thanks for the comment. I'll try to work on being more descriptive in the upcomming chapters.

[Clockwork Heart]

Life finally let me get back at this story. I have to say so far it seems pretty solid. You've done a good job adapting the lifestyle of the districts to ponies. The wing clipping was a nice touch. I'm curious to see what kind of punishments the unicorns live with.

If there's any improvement to be made, I would suggest adding more detail to your writing. Some of the sections could have used more detail and felt rushed in my opinion. For example, you described the Games well but said little about the districts other than they exist. You could go into detail about how many there are (Im assuming one for each element?) And what each one does. I'm also curious how you will handle Celestia. You said she regretted the war, yet she had no issue jumping straight to televised mass murder sports. I assume Celestia will make an appearance and I would like to see how you justify her choices with her personality.

If it seems like I've been overly critical I apologize. I'm just a big fan of the series. This is honestly a very good start and I'm looking forward to how you will mix these two series. Keep up the good work and may luck be ever on your side.

[Thessur]

Thank you very much for taking the time to read and comment!
I'll work on adding some more detail in the upcoming chapters. Celestia is going to appear and (I hope) it will be clear why she made the choices she did by the end. The districts will get fleshed out a bit when the other Chosen ponies come in, but there are indeed six of them.

[PhantomVulpix]

guess what Nee-chan?? I joined FIMFiction just so I could read your fic! I know you're busy, but I WANT MORE!!!!!!

[enamis]

well atleast this isnt a copy, good for you, have a thumb

[Thessur]

Thanks for the comments guys. I know you're all saying "Where is the next chapter? Why are you taking so long? Get off your lazy bum and write filly!"
Well, it's coming, slowly, but it's coming. I'm also revising the first chapters to be more descriptive and (hopefully) better than they are now. I'm really hoping to kick it in gear with this over the next month or so as a warmup to NaNoWriMo.

[Thessur]

Meanwhile, here are ponycreator versions of Featherlight (Dusty) and Redneck. Enjoy

Edit: Whoops, forgot Red's cutiemark. For the record, it's one of these collar thingies arthursclipart.org/horses/horses/collar.gif

i40.photobucket.com/albums/e238/Chirril/Featherlightrevamp.png
i40.photobucket.com/albums/e238/Chirril/Redneck.png