Additional Research: The Tragedy of Hieyuma
It was a full week before Celestia extended another invitation to Twilight. During that time, Twilight had regrettably returned to Ponyville, but not without a collection of every single book on the subject of ancient Equestria, all taken from the royal archives. The number of priceless tomes she had borrowed was close to triple digits, a feat that would have been impossible had she not been the Princess’ own student. If somepony else wanted to learn about ancient history, Twilight supposed, they would just have to wait. She had a project to finish.
And what a project it was! What had started as an ambitious curiosity had become both a massive intellectual undertaking and an intensely personal biography. The chance to document the Princess’ own life. What scholars and historians and writers alike would do to take on such a task themselves! And here was little Twilight Sparkle, librarian and student. The challenge this whole project presented made her feel like exactly that: a student. She was constantly learning new things and relearning old ones. Tidbits of trivia, tiny details that had been so easy to miss, accumulated to form the grand, ancient world of Equestria, a world she only thought she knew. If she was at a roadblock before, she had burst through it as quickly and vigorously as Rainbow Dash through a cloud.
In all reality, the Princess’ story, while Twilight enjoyed it immensely, had not provided her with very much new information. It had been interesting, sure, but she did not necessarily need the details of Canterlot’s old architecture, or the process of military succession. In the grand scheme of Equestria’s history, these were minor things. Nevertheless, Twilight’s research was progressing at an astounding rate, considering the standstill she had been at before. She did not understand why, until she sat and thought long and hard about it. What it had provided her was…
…Oh what was the phrase? Twilight mused on it until she finally settled a word. Context. Set in the proper frame of mind, Twilight was able to draw simple connections, ones she had missed before. Of course, connections begat connections, and what she had considered to be minor details had revealed themselves to be vastly important pieces of the magnificent Equestrian puzzle.
Twilight had sequestered herself to her room in the library. During the day, her only company was the poor dragon, Spike, who was running ragged after helping Twilight find books, put them back, cross-reference information, and deal with visitors she herself did not have time to aid. During the night, even the nocturnal Owloysius seemed to tire of her constant work. Twilight stopped for little more than to eat, drink, and sleep, and even those were kept to the minimum required. Her friends were brushed off or ushered away. Twilight Sparkle was not in at the moment. She was far, far away, perhaps not in space, but certainly in mind. She had reached a veritable nirvana, an erudite bliss that could only come from such a zealous pursuit of knowledge.
But alas, all the scholarly fervor in the world could not divine truth without additional written evidence or, in this case, verbal testimony, and eventually Twilight hit another end, stuck on a very particular subject of curious implications.
She was more delighted than a filly on Hearth’s Warming Day when Spike burped a letter from Princess Celestia, inviting her back to Canterlot, and to her study. Twilight was even more delighted to find the Princess had arranged for private transportation, a spacious chariot drawn by four royal pegasi guards. The train would have been tedious, especially with the churning ocean of books that was her travel case. The guards, she could tell, would have preferred otherwise, but they had the discipline to leave their opinions unvoiced.
She left Spike behind this time, in order to keep the library in operation. Neither of them were particularly sorry for it, Twilight reasoning that he could take care of himself as he had many times before, and Spike simply being glad for a break from the research. As the chariot departed, Twilight could have sworn she saw him collapse in exhaustion after waving a weary goodbye. Twilight knew she should have been just as tired, but she felt no such way. No, she was wide awake, academic enthusiasm still shaking her limbs.
**********
The Princess had scheduled the appointment, but had also given a few days’ notice, and therefore a few days of planning. It was she who met Twilight in the study. Celestia nodded to the guards, walked through the doors, and entered the study.
It was as cozy as ever, but this time, there was a slight variation on the theme, courtesy of Twilight Sparkle. The study was comfortable in the same way a library was comfortable. Books were neatly aligned in a tall pile on one edge of the writing table. Beside that was a wheeled cart, generously stocked with texts of all sorts. Textbooks, spellbooks, histories, biographies, dictionaries, guides on military strategy, guides on metal smithing, guides on medieval basket weaving, and atop it all, one very peculiar book on mythology.
Twilight, not one to easily forget procedure, had also prepared a kettle of tea. It rested on a protective cloth coaster, next to two fine teacups. Celestia smiled at such an impressive adherence to tradition. It had no doubt been carefully prepared, added with exactly the correct ingredients, in exactly the correct amounts, mixed in a very specific manner, and heated to just the right temperature. The whole scene positively radiated with Twilight’s organizational touch.
“Hello, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia happily greeted.
“Princess,” she smiled, “Sorry, I am a little early.”
Word for word, it was the same apology she had given a week before, the same apology she always gave. She was always early.
“No need to apologize,” Celestia gently countered. Ah, tradition. “I can see you’ve been doing some research.”
“Oh, just a little,” Twilight modestly admitted.
Celestia walked to the writing table, and took a seat. It seemed Twilight had taken the liberty of replacing her elevated stool with a comfortable, reclining chair. Most likely, it was because most of the time, Celestia simply spoke while her student wrote. Twilight herself still sat atop a lightly padded stool.
“Did you take my advice?” Celestia asked, concerned. Twilight was struck with panic. She knew she had forgotten something!
“What advice, Princess?” she asked frantically.
“I asked that you not forget to get some rest,” the Princess said soothingly, clearly seeing her student’s panic.
“Oh!” Twilight said, chuckling with relief. “Yes, of course I did, Princess.”
Maybe Twilight believed so, but Celestia could see she had not rested an adequate amount, if at all. How else could she have read all these books already, and why else would there have been dark circles around her eyes? Her poor student had a sincere air of eagerness about her, held together only by a unique sort of adrenaline that stemmed from intellectual pursuit. Her whole body seemed to droop with fatigue, but her eyes were lit with a bright readiness.
“Are you quite sure, Twilight?” Celestia pursued, “We can reschedule if you’re not feeling-”
“No!” Twilight interjected. “Um, I mean, sorry. Uh, I mean, no, I’m fine. We can continue.” True, she knew she was tired, and true, they could reschedule, but Twilight was sure her curiosity would not allow her to sleep. By default, all her idle time would be devoted to research, and what fun was there in researching a dead end? Well, some, but not enough.
“Well,” Celestia hesitantly considered, “if you’re certain.” She leaned back in her chair. “Now where were we…?”
“Actually, Princess,” Twilight again interrupted, “I have a few questions before we begin. If that’s alright, that is.”
Celestia smiled. “Of course.”
“Good!” Twilight happily clapped her hooves together. She began shuffling through an intimidating stack of papers. “Now, let’s see… huh, um… not this one… aha!” She triumphantly brought one forth.
“So, to start…” Twilight looked down the page, scrolling through her notes. “Here it is. Earlier, you said that Clover the Clever told you Discord could only be defeated magically, and that even Lucky agreed with her. Right?”
Celestia nodded. “Correct.”
“How did you know that?”
“An excellent question, Twilight,” the Princess said. Twilight smiled, pleased for having asked it. “We learned from the Tragedy of Hieyuma Empire.”
“Also, what, exactly, is the Hieyuma Empire?”
“They were a kingdom, far to the east; the very first to encounter Discord’s hordes, and the very first to fight the War of Madness. The creatures that lived there were very different from ponies. They were magically inept, physically weaker than a pony, and not a single one could fly, not without help, at least. But, for all their downfalls, they made up for it in one area: their unrivaled intelligence.”
Though Twilight would never admit it, she was one of the smartest ponies Celestia knew. Perhaps, given time, she would be the most knowledgeable pony in all of Equestria. Beings of “unrivaled intelligence”; the sentiment struck a chord with her. Celestia could tell Twilight would very much like to meet one.
“Their natural cleverness, combined with an affinity for creation and a dexterity that enabled said creation, made for a unique, frightful ingenuity the world had never seen before, and still has yet to see again.”
“But Princess,” Twilight questioned, “what are they?”
“What were they, you mean,” Celestia corrected. When Twilight tilted her head in question, she followed with, “I’m afraid they are gone, now.”
Twilight drew a short breath. “You don’t mean…?”
“Indeed. The War of Madness drove them to extinction.”
Twilight reeled at the statement. For all her research on the lost empire, she had not once considered that. It was the worst possible fate she could think of, which is perhaps why she had not thought of it.
“Okay, then,” she said slowly, a hint of lament hidden in her voice. “What were they?”
“Why don’t you tell me, Twilight?” Celestia asked. A strange book floated down to the table, enveloped in the Princess’ magic. It came to rest in front of Twilight, who seemed to shy away from it. It was a professionally written, official mythology, or, at least, as official as such books could get. There was a bookmark protruding from the top.
“It’s going to sound dumb,” she protested.
“That’s alright.”
“I don’t think I’m right.”
“Tell me anyways.”
Twilight hesitated for a moment more. Slowly, she flipped the book open to the bookmarked page. She took one distasteful look at it, before looking up to Celestia, who waited expectantly.
“Hummans?”
Celestia expressed a small, sideways smile. “It’s pronounced, ‘human.’”
“Hue-men,” Twilight repeated. After she said it, her eyes grew wide. “So, wait… you mean to say… they… the empire… Lyra was… humans exist?”
Celestia nodded.
“What… but… but how?” Twilight stuttered incredulously.
“The book you have there was made a little over one hundred years ago, but even at the time of its printing, humans had long since become a myth. And not even a notable one if the modern mythology books’ exclusion of them is anything to go by. Actually, I’m surprised you made such a distant connection. How very clever of you!” Twilight would have been flattered, but she was still in shock.
Celestia continued. “In their own language, the word for their species translated as ‘Wise Pony’. Except, not pony. It was a word that denotes their own form. ‘Wise Ape’ I suppose would be a more accurate phrase. In any case, they had a unique word for themselves and their kingdom. However, ponykind, not having much contact with them, and therefore not caring to have correct usage, dubbed them the ‘Hieyumanites’, and their kingdom, ‘Hieyuma’. I’m still not sure where that moniker originated.
“Eventually, for ease of use, the phrase was shortened to ‘Hieyumans’, and then, to ‘Humans’. By then, of course, they were long gone.”
Twilight was speechless. A mythological creature had, at one point, existed. The whole time, she had supposed that they were just a strange, artistic translation of monkeys or apes, made to have shorter hair and bigger brains. How many other beings of myth were more than just imagination?
“How?” Twilight eventually asked. “How do you know?”
“As a part of the token forces Equestria offered in the early days of the war, a detachment of mages were sent to Hieyuma. We knew they would appreciate the magic, however little it was. Clover the Clever, along with Arch-Mage Midnight Shimmer, before she became Arch-Mage, was among them.”
This was almost too much. Clover the Clever, the legendary mage, fought alongside humans, a previously fictional species? The thought was absurd, unimaginable.
“It was at the final battle. The humans pushed the hordes back all the way to the border of fog surrounding the Astral Mountains, the place where the beasts had emerged. They aimed to drive them back into the fog, thinking that it might choke the beasts as it did them. At the least, they thought it would teach them a lesson, make them fear to return, as it were. They were so close, Twilight. So close. The dragons aided them immensely, and even the griffons lent a helping claw. If Equestria had but sent a proper force…”
She trailed off, considering what might have been. “Both Midnight and Clover loved the Hieyumans. They learned their language, practiced their customs, and even made friends among them. Clover was absolutely enamored by their relentless pursuit of knowledge. Midnight was fascinated by their inventions. They were both there, at the final stand, at the tragedy. I was told that they marched bravely, and that they fought heroically.”
Celestia paused, considering her next words. “I was also told that even their most genius of works, and their most brilliant of engineers, could not turn the tide.”
**********
It was mid-afternoon, but it could have been dusk for all of the battlefield gloom. Grey darkness closed in from every side. The miserable clouds overhead exerted an intangible pressure, steadily coasting across the sky in a depressing overcast formation. A fog of war rose from the ground, swirling with mud-borne vapor and smoke. To the east, and perhaps the most foreboding, the black mist brewed and churned in a constant state of unrest. Smoky tendrils of darkness lapped at the ground and seemed to reach menacingly toward them, but the wall never moved. Beyond it loomed the vague outline of the accursed Astral Mountains, barely visible through the barrier.
The misery was pervasive. The cloud barriers that surrounded them were nearly opaque, almost completely blotting out the sun. The only evidence of light was a single bright spot in the sky, and even that was more a symbol of despair than hope. The once grassy field they marched through had long since been turned to a lifeless desert of filthy mud and craggy rock, and though it stretched for many miles on either side, there was a pressing sense of claustrophobia, of suffocation. If ever there was purgatory, the caretakers of such a domain were no doubt closely observing, taking furious notes on how they might mimic this place. The battlefield conditions could be summed up in a single word: depressing.
Why, then, were his spirits so high?
“Company halt!”
Joseph Baker, observing from a small, elevated hill, could hear the distant shout of the commander, ringing clear across the chaotic din. It was impressive, really. After almost a full day of battle, the commander’s barking voice was hoarse and long past its prime, but it lost neither clarity nor volume.
“Ready arms!”
The men responded with vigor. A cacophony of metallic clicks and clacks sounded inconsistently through the ranks as shells were loaded and bolts were closed.
An intimidating rumble shook the ground. Through the fog, beasts emerged, charging with wild bloodlust. Manticores, timberwolves, and minotaurs all rushed in a chaotic wall of tooth and claw. The only crafted steel to be seen was worn and wielded by the sinisteeds, a creature that seemed to be a corrupted version of their pony cousins. They were, in Joseph’s opinion, the most loathsome creatures of the bunch. They were pitch black in color and had a complexion that seemed to be in constant decay. In combination with their insect-like wings and beady, reflective eyes, their perversion of the normal pony form was complete. Even their horns were physically twisted. Joseph knew his opinion was shared by more than a few. As they drew closer to Discord’s more “civilized” areas, he realized they actually made up the majority of the onrushing forces.
“Aim!”
Three rows of vicious weaponry were pointed downrange, the first kneeling, the second standing, and the third staggered behind them. Intermittently placed at fifty yard intervals were large, belt-fed machine turrets, manned by two soldiers each.
“Fire!”
The line erupted into a blaze of vicious, ear-splitting gunfire. Angry bullets flew downrange, forming a metal wall through which there was no bypass. Hot, unforgiving lead collided with warm and, in the sinisteeds’ case, cold flesh. All across the horde, there was an almost uniform shedding of blood and shattering of bones, as creatures of all shapes and sizes fell to the earth. Most were dead before they hit the ground. Cries of agony erupted from those that were not, being silenced a moment later as they were trampled by their vengeful brethren. When the three forward lines were depleted of ammunition, the commander shouted an order, and they practiced a deft maneuver, slipping back to allow another three lines of troops take their place. The raucous carnage continued.
The noise was only muffled echoes in the ears of Joseph, who watched his creations with delight. They were perfect, just perfect. The invention of the modern firearm, in which he had played no small role, was exactly what the Empire needed. The soldiers, those brave, brave soldiers, did the easy part. Point and shoot, and watch the tide turn. What Joseph saw was not a line of warriors fighting a war. He saw butchers, executing the hordes of Discord in the same way they might execute lambs at the slaughter. He saw the abominations bowing, not at the mighty hands of humanity, but at its mighty intellect. At his mighty intellect.
His ears rang in shrill protest, but to him, the high-pitched swan song accompanied the bass explosion of gunpowder perfectly. God’s own orchestra could not produce a more glorious and pleasing sound.
Eventually the symphony died down. The audience’s silence was the greatest ovation he could have asked for. A deep, running crimson trickled into the ground and mixed with the mud before them, the same color as theater roses.
So why then, with the foul weather, filthy ground, and putrid air, was he in such good spirits?
A final crack split the air as a sinisteed, still struggling toward them, was put to rest.
Oh, right. That’s why.
**********
“I don’t understand,” Twilight said. “What’s a… a ‘gun’?”
“It’s like…” Celestia mused, tapping her hoof to her chin, trying to find a proper comparison. “It’s like a cannon. Do you know what cannons are?”
Twilight nodded with hesitation. “Pinkie Pie has a party cannon.” Celestia raised an eyebrow in curiosity, and Twilight elaborated.
“She uses it to create instant parties. It shoots food and decorations and stuff.” She motioned a hoof in an arc through the air to demonstrate her meaning. “It uses magically compressed air at the base, and is activated with the push of a button. The mechanical action releases a lever, which interacts with a pre-prepared magic sphere of compressed air, signaling it to burst, which pushes party materials through the barrel, because that is the only direction it can move. The resulting force, pushed in one direction, is much greater than if it had burst normally. I still don’t know how she controls it with such precision, though…” Twilight caught herself rambling, and took an embarrassing moment to re-rail her train of thought. “Anyways, I know what a cannon is, but… I don’t think I’ve ever seen it hurt somepony, let alone kill them.” She shivered at the thought.
“Did you know Canterlot has cannons for defense?” Celestia asked.
“It does?” Twilight said, imagining the horrible Hieyuman weapons at the disposal of ponykind.
“Well, I should say it had cannons,” Celestia corrected. “They’ve been long since retired. It’s been centuries. They’re still rusting beneath the armory, I think, if you want to take a look later.”
“I will,” Twilight said. Weaponry never really piqued her interest, but this certainly called for an exception. “But I still don’t understand.”
“Imagine if you took Pinkie’s party cannon, and took all the party out of it,” Celestia said, Twilight listening with rapt attention. “Imagine if you removed all of the cake, the confetti, the decorations, all of it. Imagine if you replaced it all with bits of sharp metal, and increased the pressure one-hundred fold. And then imagine if you shot that cannon in the direction of a pony. What, Twilight, do you think the result would be?”
“It would… they would…” Twilight stuttered, grasping at words that would not come. She could properly imagine all of it, save for the end result. Her mind’s eye simply refused to conjure an image. “It would be awful!”
“Indeed it would,” Celestia nodded gravely. She rose from her seat. “Excuse me for a moment.” Twilight watched curiously as the Princess dodged through the maze of books and opened a small chest in the corner of the room. From it, she produced a smaller box, long and narrow, which she brought back to the table.
“I thought you might like to see,” she said, unhinging the dual clasps that kept the box shut. It creaked open. Celestia looked at the contents with a light mixture of mourning and distaste, before turning it towards Twilight. “This is the Hieyuman weapon. A gun.”
Twilight gazed at it, fascinated. Curiously shaped lengths of wood meshed seamlessly with intricate metalwork. Though the exact nature of its design was lost on her, it was obviously a masterfully crafted piece of machinery. She stared long and hard, trying to make a connection between Pinkie’s whimsical party cannon and this deadly weapon. Her heart did not want to, but her intellect got the better of her.
“It’s over a thousand years old,” Celestia informed, “It most likely would have rotted and rusted by now, were it not for the preserving spell on the box.”
The fact that it was an antique did not make Twilight feel any more comfortable around it, a sentiment the Princess seemed to share. Regardless, she continued.
“I was told there were many variations,” Celestia began, “but they all worked on the same principle. If I remember correctly, this was called a bullet.” A brass colored piece of cylindrical metal floated before them, suspended by the Princess’ magic. “It is a form of ammunition, akin to the bolt of a crossbow. They would open a chamber like… this…” a metal rod slid back, slowly and awkwardly, “and load the cartridge in like… like… this,” the bullet was forced into the gun, “and then slide the chamber closed again.”
Celestia struggled with the complicated gadgetry. Telekinesis could technically push and pull in whatever direction the user desired, but such small, delicate motions presented a challenge that frustrated even the Princess. What a strange anatomy the Hieyumans must have had, to operate such a construct. Finally, the bolt slid closed. Celestia sighed.
“The bullet is self-propelled, containing a powder that bursts, not unlike magically compressed air. The tip is then propelled toward a target, with deadly results.”
Twilight had supposed the lead cylinder to be just another component. The metal was no longer than the end of her nose! Surely a sword, or a spear, or indeed, a crossbow bolt would be more deadly?
“We can test it later, somewhere safe,” Celestia told her student, sensing her interest. “For now, let’s continue.” She began to tug back on the bolt, trying to disarm the gun. It was not working.
“Forgive me, it’s been a few… hundred… years!” The gun jerked in Celestia’s telekinesis, and the small room reverberated with a deafening crack, and lit with a bright yellow light, come and gone as quick as lightning. Several reactions happened at once. Celestia yelped, leapt out of her seat, and released her magical hold on the gun, eyes wide in surprise. Twilight shrieked, and fell backwards in her stool, papers flying out of her hooves. A pane of glass shattered on one side of the study. A second later, the guards burst in, spears at the ready.
“Princess!” one of them cried.
Both Celestia and Twilight, not expecting the guards, were startled again, and let out simultaneous shrieks of terror. The guards, not expecting such a response, howled in kind. There was a bright purple flash as Twilight reflexively teleported away from the room.
Royalty, especially those of Celestia’s rank and importance, were never embarrassed or flustered before their subjects. It was unbecoming. However, if ever there was a time when they were, it was now. Celestia explained to the guards, as calmly as she could, what had happened. After they left, she had to hunt for Twilight, who had disappeared from sight. It did not take long to find her, shivering in the castle courtyard below. It took a few cups of tea and many comforting words before Twilight recovered from her shock. Eventually, spurred by the Princess’ suggestion that they call it a night, Twilight insisted they continue.
**********
Joseph took a deep breath and sighed. The thick, battlefield air did nothing to relieve the tension. He was not normally one for such bloodlust, and neither was humanity at large. That was undoubtedly the realm of the beasts that fell before them. Yet the determined faces and subdued, fiery glee bespoke a carnal satisfaction in seeing their vengeance so fully executed. A righteous fury boiled in the heart of every patriot soldier, and enacting justice upon these abominations who so fully deserved it only served to raise the heat. Watching the hordes fall was exponentially inspiring, as the Empire’s armies grew more and more assured of their impending victory.
“Beautiful day for a battle, isn’t it, Midnight?”
Adept Midnight Shimmer looked to her friend and nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes! But I’ll be guessing the beasts do not think so!”
The unicorn spoke with a heavy accent, strange intonation, and incorrect conjugation, but she made her point nonetheless. In fact, Joseph found it quite endearing.
“The sooner we end this affair, the better,” Adept Clover said, somewhat antagonistically. Though she too spoke with an accent, it was much less apparent, and her diction was nearly perfect. She had taken the time to learn the language with greater precision.
“The beasts are deserving it, when they kill so many Hieyumans!” Midnight protested.
“Actually, it’s not, er, whatever that word is, it’s-”
“The Hieyuamns do not fight for vengeance,” Clover argued. “They fight because it is necessary.”
“It’s not-! Really, you two?”
“Speaks the pony who has not seeing her family killed. Discord will feel full wrath of Hieyumans! Right, Joe?”
“Honestly, I don’t even know where you came up with-”
“Regardless, the sooner this battle is over, the better. Right, Joseph?”
Joseph frowned at her statement, but nodded. Clover was actually a few decades older than him, and her wisdom, though outlandish at times, showed for it. “You’re both right,” he said, seeking to defuse the argument. “Soon, this war will end, and we can all go home.”
“And we had agreement, remember?” Midnight eagerly implored. Her young, pleading eyes looked fervently upwards. Even Clover seemed interested in his response.
“Of course I do,” he assuaged. “You can both accompany me back home, and we can all share a pot of my world-famous coffee.”
“I do not want silly drinks!” Midnight protested, “You teach us machines!”
“I must admit, I’m a bit more interested in the science than… hot drinks,” Clover added.
“Oh, but they are one and the same!” Joseph cried. A covert smile appeared on his face, fully knowing the two ponies could not tell if he was serious or not. “How do you think science gets done? Think: you’re cold, tired, and uninspired in the dead of night. Why, with just one cup-”
“Baker!” a voice interrupted. He wheeled around to see the commander, approaching him with a purposeful stride.
He smartly saluted, and the unicorns followed suit. “Commander,” Joseph acknowledged. “What needs fixing? Is it the artillery? It’s the artillery isn’t it? I told them, they can’t fire more than a few rounds per minute! The pneumatics are extremely sensitive, you know. I can’t believe they did it again. You can only put so much strain on such a small cylinder before it’s ruined. To be precise, you can only put-”
“At ease, Baker!” the Commander interrupted, fully aware of the technical rants the engineer could easily slip into. “No, the artillery is fine. More than fine, actually. I never thought I’d see the day, but the hordes are currently in a full scale retreat.”
“A… retreat?” Joseph repeated. In the early days of the war, retreating was something the Empire did, not Discord’s hordes. Even when they began to push back, the beasts fought, very literally, tooth and nail for every inch of lost ground. And now they were retreating? The unicorns behind him seemed to mumble the word as if it were foreign, though they knew its meaning.
The Commander nodded. His expression was stoic, but Joseph could see an excited giddiness was tugging at the seams. “Indeed. And once they reach the right distance, our artillery can-”
As if on cue, the cannonfire in the background became suddenly uniform. Responding to a radio cue, every single artillery gun fired at once. The subsequent downrange explosion was magnificent, loud enough to burst ears, deep enough to shake hearts, and bright enough to compensate for the sun’s absence. Seconds later, a squall of hot wind whipped past them, smelling of gunpowder and smoke. The group took a moment to appreciate the display before resuming.
“That,” the Commander said, pointing to the continuing explosions, “in combination with our guns in the trenches and barbed wire on the field is going to make sure we don’t ever see those ugly bastards again. Our biplanes, AA cannons, and dragon allies make the air an even worse option than the ground, and they know it. I hate to count my chickens before they hatch, but I think this battle is ours.”
They all allowed a moment of victory to wash over them. If this battle was theirs, then so was the war.
The Commander continued. “I want you to stay ready, but at this point, I don’t think we’ll need to make use of ‘Plan B’.”
“I’m glad, sir. I’ll admit, I wasn’t really fond of Plan B.” Joseph said. The unicorns nodded in vigorous agreement. “But what do you need me to do?”
The Commander allowed a smile to creep into the corner of his lips. “Son, you’ve been up for twenty-four hours. The only thing I need you to do is return to the field barracks and get some sleep. You’ll need it for the victory march back home.” He began to walk away. “Oh, and you can take the ponies with you.”
Midnight Shimmer and Clover gave each other sideways glances. It had been longer than twenty-four hours, they knew. They wondered how he was able to so consistently stay awake and stay productive. When they asked him, he had laughed, and told them all about “coffee.”
**********
The field barracks was a large compound of tents, tarps, and pavilions, arranged into neat rows and bisected by roads. Some tents were armories, some were kitchens, some were headquarters of strategy and planning, but most were living spaces, filled almost to overflowing with small bunks and personal baggage.
Night was falling, but the battle raged on. Soldiers slept all hours of the day, keeping the frontlines in good supply of fresh men. Entire battalions would descend upon the camp, fatigued and wounded, wishing their fellows good luck as they headed in the opposite direction.
There was the occasional pony walking about the camp, but they were few and far between. Midnight Shimmer and Clover the Clever had long since gotten used to being a minority amongst the crowded Hieyuman army.
The unicorns’ cots, though small for the Hieyumans, were more than adequate. Their bunks were only feet away from each other. They were surrounded by other Hieyumans of their same battalion, all fast asleep. Joseph was across the aisle, snoring loudly, feet dangling off the edge of his cot.
“Just think,” Midnight Shimmer said excitedly, her tongue running in native Equestrian. “The night will pass, and in the morning, the war will be won! I can hardly wait to study Joseph’s machines.”
On cue, a noisy automobile passed just outside of their tent. To Midnight, the black exhaust smelled like adventure and discovery.
“Yes, well,” Clover began, but paused. It was almost too good to be true. “Let’s hope so.”
“Your hesitance is misplaced,” Midnight chided. “Your caution, too. You and your ‘Plan B’. When would it ever come to such drastic measure? We are winning the war, not losing it!”
“I know, I know,” Clover admitted. “But it never hurts to be prepared. I must admit, I am… saddened to see it end this way.”
“End what way?”
A particularly loud explosion erupted in the distance, sending vibrations through the ground and shaking loose dust from the roof of the tent. Clover sank into her covers a little farther.
“Violently.”
Clover could not see Midnight’s face in the darkness, but they had been friends long enough for her to know when she was upset. The brief silence made it all the worse.
“I can scarcely believe it. Negotiations failed, Clover. They failed!” Midnight whispered. Her tone was angry and frustrated.
“I know.”
“Discord is hostile. His nature is in direct opposition with Harmony itself.”
“I know.”
“Your last resort strategy, ‘Plan B’, revolves around violence. And you are the one who planned it!”
“I know.”
“So how could this possibly end any other way? Have you a pacifist solution more effective than the machines of Hieyuma? An argument of greater pith than indomitable weaponry? Is there a better deterrence to the hordes than the fear of death? Well?” The whisper had turned into a hushed snarl. Some of the soldiers stirred at the disturbance.
There was a sorrowful silence. “I know not.” Clover’s voice wavered with slight emotion. Midnight Shimmer immediately regretted her criticism.
“Oh. Clover, I’m… sorry…”
Clover swallowed and cleared her throat before speaking. “Think nothing of it. War makes cynics of us all. And you’re right. It will all be over soon, and for that, I should be grateful.”
She curled over, pulling her scratchy, army-issued blanket tighter. They did not speak to each other for the rest of the night. Eventually, Clover fell into an anxious sleep, wistfully dreaming of times past, when Harmony was more than an intangible ideal, and when warring nations could be brought to peace with a little heart-shaped fire.
**********
“Joe! Get up, get up! Hurry and get up! Now!”
Something hard was dug into his side and shaking him. It was unpleasant. Only because of his extreme exhaustion was he able to ignore it. The harsh nudging persisted.
“Now, Joe! Now!”
Joseph’s eyes fluttered open, slowly and groggily. There was still sand in them. His limbs might as well have been pulled to the ground by thousand pound weights. It was a pleasurable pressure, one he was not inclined to strain against. He groaned and rolled in his cot. By the light of the dim, hanging lantern, he caught a glimpse of his wristwatch before closing his eyes. Four hours of sleep was not enough…
“Now!”
A pair of hooves smashed into his ribs. His eyes shot wide open, and he immediately clutched his side, groaning in pain. Midnight Shimmer’s frantic, apologetic voice yelled into his ear.
“My sorry, Joe! You must be getting up!”
Joseph struggled against his fatigue, half-heartedly pulling himself to a leaning position. He looked around. The tent was empty, save for Midnight, who looked back at him with wide, terrified eyes. An emergency siren was wailed in the distance. Soldiers shouted. The clamor of battle was much closer than it should have been.
“What’s-” he paused to cough. “What’s going on?”
“No time! Hurry!”
A field of magic enveloped him, and tugged him into the air, and planted him on the ground. He swayed back and forth, unprepared for the forceful handling. Finally, he shook himself, and confusedly began to don his gear, all while interrogating the distressed unicorn.
“What is happening?”
She did not answer. Her impatient gaze swiveled from the door, to Joseph, and back to the door again.
“Are we under attack?”
She looked at him, and nodded.
“When? How? By what?”
She fumbled with words she could not translate, and said something in Equestrian that Joseph could not understand.
“What?” he implored. After another struggle to translate a yet to be translated phrase, Midnight settled on a single word.
“Shadow,” she whispered fearfully.
He had grabbed his plate armor with the intention of strapping into it, but paused. “Shadow?”
The unicorn responded by swatting the armor out of his grasp. “No time, Joe! No time! Hurry fast!” She stretched forth a single hoof and tugged on his hand, urging him towards the door. He was wearing the same light green, battle-worn pants and shirt he had fallen asleep in. The only thing he had time to do was lace up his boots. On their way out, he managed to grab his trench coat. Miscellaneous tools of metal jingled in pockets as he swung it around his shoulders. A small revolver, secured to the inside of his jacket, bumped against his chest, an uncomfortable but reassuring gesture.
There were soldiers rushing in every direction. They were under attack, no doubt about it. Had the hordes actually managed to get past their seemingly unbeatable defense? How was that even possible?
“Where are we going?” he shouted.
“The army!” Midnight replied.
“You mean the armory?” he questioned.
She did not answer.
“Where is Clover?” Joseph asked.
“At the army!”
“You mean the armory?”
Midnight moaned in frustration and continued onward. They frantically weaved through crowds and between tents. The camp was in absolute chaos. They seemed to be trying to organize a proper emergency response, but every commanding officer was shouting different orders, and nobody knew what to do.
They crossed a road. Joseph looked towards the battle’s front. By the light of the moon, he glimpsed what he could only describe as a distinct lack of light. Lanterns and spotlights, no matter how bright, were cut off as a churning line of black approached them. Fleeing soldiers were swallowed and tents were eclipsed. It was more than a lack of light, he realized; it was a strong presence of horrible darkness.
A second later, it was out of sight. He did not have the time to comprehend it. Midnight had noticed it too. Frightened whimpers coincided with her tired panting.
They reached the armory, which was a large tent with one open wall. Inside stood a dozen or so Hieyumans. In the center was Clover, who seemed to be directing them all. Midnight Shimmer immediately ran and nearly tackled her with a desperate hug. She returned the embrace, and they conversed in rapid Equestrian. For all her eager youth, Joseph had never before seen Midnight this scared.
“Clover! What’s going on here?” Joseph shouted. Clover released Midnight from her embrace and looked at Joseph woefully.
“Plan B,” she said. Her tone was not scared or desperate. It was sad.
Plan B? Joseph thought. But that means…
Interrupting his thoughts, a sudden rumbling shook the ground. An enormous purple and green dragon had landed behind them. His head snaked under the canopy. Clover spoke with another rapid bout of Equestrian, to which the dragon responded methodically and, unless Joseph imagined it, apologetically. The Hieyuman soldiers watched in awe and anticipation. They all knew what Plan B entailed.
The dragon finished speaking with Clover, and turned to Joseph. “Sorry,” he rumbled. He reared his head back, and took a deep breath. Wisps of flame leaked from his toothy maw. Midnight clung to Clover, nearly choking the life out of her. A second later, he opened his jaws, and the entire armory was enveloped in a gout of emerald flame.
Plan B was extremely undesirable for two reasons. One, the enactment of the plan meant that they were losing the battle, and that they had fallen upon their last resort. Two, it involved burning to death.
**********
“The dragon… burned them to death?” Twilight asked. “What point is there in that?”
“Yes, it burned them, but no, it did not kill them,” Celestia said. “Think about Spike’s unique ability to teleport scrolls. As he grows older, his fire will get bigger.”
“He’ll be able to send bigger scrolls?” Twilight puzzled.
“Well, yes,” Celestia chuckled, “but there’s more to it than that. When Spike grows up, he’ll be able to teleport all sorts of things. Books, boxes, even small houses, if the fire was big enough.”
Twilight’s eyes widened in realization. “Could he send ponies?”
Celestia nodded. “Indeed he could. But before you get any ideas, Twilight, think about what first must happen. The object must first catch fire, and burn into magical ash. By its nature, green fire is extremely hot, and will eventually burn through even metal. If you wish to teleport a living creature, pony and otherwise, they must first burn to stubble. As you can imagine, it is extremely agonizing.”
Judging by the horrified expression on her face, Celestia saw that Twilight could indeed imagine it.
Celestia continued. “’Plan B’ entailed being teleported via dragonfire to somewhere beyond the Mist. If all else failed, it was their intention to send a team to go behind enemy lines and assassinate Discord.”
**********
Joseph burst into existence. Surprising himself, he landed squarely on his feet. Though the feeling was gone, his skin still seemed to crawl with memories of the brief but horrible pain he had just endured. He fell to his knees, folded his arms, and shivered.
Joseph knew the plan. They all did, even if not much attention was paid at its proposal. Eager for victory, one hundred souls had freely volunteered, including Clover, Midnight Shimmer, and himself. Had the scheme needed more, they could have easily been found. While they offered in earnest, nobody, not the volunteers, the strategists, or even the architect of the plan itself, ever thought they would see it put in motion.
He looked up. Of those one hundred volunteers, only a dozen had actually made it. Of those dozen, only a single one had seemed prepared. And she was nowhere in sight. The soldiers around him were beginning to rise to their feet, shaking and sick from the experience they had just endured. Most of their faces were pale. One of them vomited. Midnight Shimmer was also struggling to rise to her hooves. Joseph shook off his mental anguish, stood, and shuffled over to help her up.
Scattered all around them were boxes of weapons, crates of ammunition, and barrels of gasoline. Unused artillery shells seemed to be in special abundance. To one side of them, only fifty feet away, was a sheer cliff wall.
A dark chuckle reverberated through the open air. It was gentle, distant even, but it seemed to make the air quiver with agitation.
“I thought I smelled smoke,” came a disembodied voice. It held the same distance, but was no less foreboding for it. “And where there’s smoke, as they say, there’s fire. Though in light of my newest, most favorite enemies, I think a new proverb would be in order. ‘Where there’s black smoke, there’s gunfire.’ Eh? What do you think?”
Nobody responded, except by frantically gaining their bearings and scrambling for their guns. Joseph slowly drew his revolver, but did not move. Midnight stood close to him, pressing as hard as she could against his body. She whimpered in fear, and was mumbling something in Equestrian. Joseph did not understand it, but heard it repeat. Was it a prayer?
“Nobody?” the voice said, disappointed. “Okay, how about this. ‘Where there’s green smoke, there’s assassins.’” It spoke viciously.
Again, nobody dared to say a word. The air hung thick with anticipation. Finally, Joseph spoke up. “Show yourself!”
The voice seemed perturbed. “Oh, phooey. You creatures are always so boring.” It made the word drawling and negative, as if being boring were the worst thing in the world. “Always eager to get right down to business.”
There was a flash of light. Joseph wheeled around. Before him stood a being of personified chaos, in more than just form. It was something subtle, as if there were liquid entropy were leaking at the seams, waiting to burst forth and drown them in anarchy. It was frowning in disappointment.
“Strange, considering your business is, in this case, oblivion.” Every gun was pointed at the creature.
“Identify yourself!” Joseph shouted. At this, the creature smiled.
“So rude, Joseph Baker! You stand on foreign soil, and still you give orders! To the monarch, no less!” Its tone was stricken with mock hurt. “Well, I shall forgive your ignorance. Let it never be said I was an unjust despot. And besides, you already know me, I think, name, rank, and title. I am Discord!”
His voice echoed off of the cliff wall, and through the hearts of the soldiers. This thing was Discord. They knew their mission.
“Oh, that was boring, too,” Discord sighed. “Usually there’s lightning and thunder and howling beasts and chocolate rain and all sorts of special effects! It’s a shame you appeared so close to the Sanctuary.”
Joseph took charge. “Form up! On me, form up!” The men, desperate for direction, immediately ran to Joseph and formed a loose line beside him. Midnight backed away.
“Oh, please,” Discord said haughtily. “I thought we could have discussed this. You are usually such rational beings after all.”
“Discord, fiend of the hordes, you have been charged of genocide, torture, and crimes against humanity and nature! Such unlawful and unnatural misdeeds will not go unpunished, and by the order of the Empire, you are to be put to death.”
Discord stared, his expression incredulous. Nearly shattering their already paper-thin resolve, a second later, he burst into a fit of insane laughter, and disappeared in a flash of light. The laughter did not stop. Their gazes swiveled, looking for the source. Eventually, it died down, and there was another flash of light behind them. Set up against the canyon wall, all of the boxes and barrels had been stacked into a giant pile. Discord sat atop it as though it were a seat of sovereignty.
“Oh, woe is me!” he cried melodramatically. “The band of heroes is come to do me justice! I am a helpless target upon my throne!” He swooned in his chair, one claw upon his forehead.
“Enough!” Joseph shouted. “Do you have any last words?”
Discord put a claw to his lips and mimed a zipper closing across them. An actual zipper appeared across them, sealing his mouth closed. Joseph blinked in confusion. Discord shrugged, and reclined in his seat.
“Aim!” The soldiers aimed. “Fire!”
Gunfire erupted from the line. A couple of them had standard issue, bolt-action rifles. Many had submachine guns. One of the larger soldiers held a belt-fed turret in both hands, yelling ferociously as he squeezed the trigger. Joseph aimed his revolver, and fired a shot.
Dust kicked up from the wall, and obscured their target. “Enough! Cease fire!” Joseph yelled after a few seconds. There was silence. The dust hung in the air for an unnatural amount of time. Finally, it settled.
Discord was still there, alive and perfectly healthy, lounging in the same position he was in before.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, unzipping his mouth. “Were you done?”
The soldiers simply stood, mouths agape.
“Yes? Well then, allow me to retort,” he said matter-of-factly. “I will begin my rebuttal by letting you in on a little secret.” He sat upright. “I cannot be killed.”
From the base of the makeshift throne, a box flew open, and a rifle floated out. Affixed to the end was a bayonet.
“I cannot be put to the sword.” Without warning, the bayoneted rifle sailed through the air at supernatural speed. To his left, Joseph heard a throaty gurgle. He turned. It had caught the soldier next to him square in the throat. The man’s eyes went wide with surprise, before lifelessly rolling backwards in his head. He fell.
“The gallows shall never see me swing.” A few of the wooden boxes ripped themselves apart. In an instant, a gallows had been constructed to Joseph’s right, complete with a noose and an unfortunate victim who never even saw it coming.
“You would find greater success in trying to slay… a shadow.” One man turned and ran. The rest followed suit. All of them were fleeing, save for Joseph, who stood rooted to the ground, and Midnight Shimmer, who cowered in a fetal position. There was a sudden, uniform cry amongst the fleeing soldiers, followed by silence. Joseph glanced back. He could see the flat landscape for miles. His men were nowhere.
Discord let loose a vicious cackle. It was maddening laughter, constantly changing in pitch and volume, but never losing its horrible intention. Joseph stood, feeling lost and out-of-body.
“Oh, oh,” Discord began, wiping a tear from his eye. “You Hieyumans, are so… so funny! You try and bring sophistication to weaponry and order to war. You create this dream of chivalry for your people and spur them to action. Does a weapons engineer have a more or less correct view, I wonder?” He tapped a claw to his chin. “I hope you realize, Joseph Baker, that this romantic vision is a fallacy. I know. War is not a noble effort. It is a game, remorseless and brutal. Whatever you think of my warriors, in battle, there are always two lines of bloodlusting beasts, not one. Two beasts ensure a battle. One ensures a massacre.”
Joseph was hardly listening. His mind was working faster than it ever had, trying to work out a solution. He was clever, but he was not invincible. Midnight was crying on the ground behind him.
“Can’t hear me? Overcome by failure? Oh, it’s so terrible when plans go awry, isn’t it?” He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. He did not get one. “Wrong! It’s wonderful when plans go awry! Ah, but I hope not all my encounters turn out to be such utter failures. I don’t want the game to lose its challenge, you know.”
“No.”
“Hmm?” Discord hummed, delighted to finally get an answer.
“You’re wrong,” Joseph numbly said.
“And what,” Discord inquired, a smile on his face, “am I wrong about?”
“It’s not a complete failure. Not yet.” Joseph drew his pistol to eye level, and aimed directly for Discord.
“Again? Well, if you must,” Discord sighed. “Proceed.” He waved his hand across his stomach, where appeared a red and white target.
He set his sights on the dead center of the target, and slowly put pressure on the trigger. Discord rolled his eyes.
“Could you hurry up? This is fun and all, but-”
He was cut off by an enormous explosion. His throne was on fire. A barrel of gasoline had exploded.
“What-?” he began, but as Joseph shot at a second barrel, another globe of fire exploded directly into Discord’s horrified face. From there, the explosions became a chain reaction. He took only a moment to grimly admire his work, before turning on his heels and running in the opposite direction, scooping up a startled Midnight as he went. Artillery shells burst into balloons of shrapnel, while tanks of gasoline blazed into volcanic eruptions of pure heat and fire. It was louder and more forceful than anything he had ever seen or felt.
Joseph and Midnight went unharmed for another miraculous five seconds. He hazarded a glance behind him. The blast was so strong, the cliff had begun to tumble and cave. Anything that had been left undetonated was buried under literal tons of rocks and rubble.
After what seemed like an eternity of retreat, they stopped. The cliff was obscured in a cloud of brown dust. Joseph squinted, scanning for movement.
“It work?” Midnight shakily asked, jumping out of his arms.
“I’m not sure…” Joseph murmured.
“Maybe we should go investigate,” Discord suggested.
They jumped at the sound. He was standing right behind them, steadily peering into the distant cloud, a claw shielding his eyes. As soon as they noticed him, he put a claw over his mouth in mock surprise.
“Oops!” he said bashfully. “Guess not.”
The two backed up in terror. Joseph was left speechless and dumbfounded, not because his last ditch effort did not work, but because he was finally out of tricks. His entire life, he could always rely on his quick wit and blessed fortune to make things go his way. Now, he had nothing.
“Well, it’s been fun, but we really must end this. I’ll be frank. One of you will leave this place alive. I need a messenger to relay something to Equestria, to tell them that they are next. And,” Discord added, “to ask them not to try such a foolish thing again. It really is off-putting. But whom shall I choose?”
He held out a pointing finger and covered his eyes. “Eenie, meenie, mienie, you, Midnight Shimmer,” he declared. “You speak fluent Equestrian. The engineer, here, does not. Besides,” he whispered, switching languages, “you seem much more frightened. Relay that emotion for me, would you please?”
Midnight made no indication that she heard him, her face frozen in a terrified stare.
“But of course, you can stay to watch your friend die first,” said Discord, chuckling darkly. He turned to Joseph, waving a revolver in his claws. Joseph reflexively checked his holster pocket for his pistol. It was gone.
“I know what you're thinking,” Discord murmured gravely. “‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself,” he giggled, breaking form for only a moment. “You designed this one yourself, right? A .44 magnum, the most powerful handgun out there. I imagine it would blow your head clean off. Now, Joseph, you've got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’”
There was a silence. Joseph had no idea what he was talking about. He had only fired three shots. Of course there were bullets in the chamber.
Discord grinned. “Well, do ya, punk?”
Joseph shook his head, half in answer, half in disbelief. No, he did not feel lucky. Discord pulled on the trigger. The hammer cocked and the chamber began to revolve. Joseph closed his eyes in anticipation…
“No!”
The shot never came. Midnight had jumped in front of him, and Discord eased off the trigger. He laughed, and addressed the unicorn in her native language. She responded, shakily, but full of conviction. Discord guffawed at whatever she had just said, but she persevered nonetheless. As she continued to speak, his face became less mocking, and more interested. He responded with something that sounded like a question. She gave an answer. He countered with a proposition. Were they… negotiating?
They went back and forth, until eventually, the frightened Midnight Shimmer nodded her head, and mumbled something. Discord roared with his most frightening laugh yet, and responded with a note of finality. He turned to Joseph.
“Well, well, it looks like you have someone to thank!” he said, pointing to Midnight. “This little mare just saved your life.”
Joseph cast a nervous, questioning glance at Midnight, who looked away with what might have been shame.
“You can both go! Oh happy day, all is well! Well, except for your friends of course, but what can you do?” he shrugged. “Anyways, you had best be off! Time waits for no man, and no mare. Oh! And I suggest you steer clear of your precious Empire. My… friends will have descended upon it right about now. Their extinction is imminent.” Joseph’s eyes widened with panic.
“Lucky you! You get to carry the history of an entire race! You must feel so proud.” Discord sighed contentedly. “Well, my time here is done, and so is yours. I hope I do this right. I’m not quite as experienced as that dragon of yours. Arrivederci!”
Joseph did not have time to respond, as Discord blew a small stream of emerald fire, first at Midnight, then at himself. His lower leg caught fire, and he fell to the ground, ripping at his pants. It was no use. The flame, extremely hot and intensely painful, had already spread to his flesh. He convulsed in agony as it slowly crawled across his skin, and burned his body to ash.
Discord watched their suffering with childish glee.
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That... was intense. I never thought of Discord as being so dark as to kill anyone outright. I thought he was just a mischief-maker who happened to warp reality. I know it's been said everypony suffered under his rule, but I thought it was just because they went mad.
Goes to show how much I know. Ah, well. Continue at your earliest convenience, and address one issue: What happened to Clover during the transport? Or was she not part of 'Plan B'?
Well, shit. Humans in Equestria! Or maybe Equestria was a part of normal old Earth and Discord's forces just annihilated most of the world. And they're all really dead. You write Discord's psychopathic brutality perfectly. He's quite the amiable sick fuck.
Also, is it me, or is Twilight completely missing the point of Princess Celestia trusting her enough to confide in her such a personal story? Not everything is a study session you silly filly.
691744
I have always believed that we never even saw a fraction of Discord's power, and barely an inch of his evil. He was just warming up.
I kinda assumed Clover wasn't a part of the team that went in.
Great chapter! Sorta chilling. I like the Human Empire as in WWI era, technology wise. It was sorta cool. :D
691744
691860
She was supposed to be part of 'Plan B', but was suspiciously absent, and it was mysteeeeeeeerious!
...Derp, I guess I didn't make that clear enough. I'll have to go back and add something. Thank goodness for the edit button!
691816
Twilight, stop being so silly, you silly!
In all honesty, the Human Empire was a pretty big curve ball.
Never have I wanted a human in equestria story, yet this is one of my favourite chapters from any story I've read so far.
I feel kinda bad wanting a human to just pop up in Celestia's study, just to see Twilights reaction.
This little side story works well with the overall plot. It really develops some of the characters and adds some contextual information which, as twilight found out, is very useful for picking out the important little details that otherwise have little value.
691816
Perhaps the reason why discord is so destructive here but comparatively mellow later is a side effect of what ever Celestia did in the first place. The elements of harmony could have mellowing persuasive effects or he might have drifted into a different kind of insanity as his Isolation in stone went on for a few thousand years... or he could have just been warming up and at a fraction of his power while underestimating the main 6.
@ whoever is bothering to read this and author 692103
I was thinking about challenging discord's "Two sides of beasts make a war, one side makes a massacre" -Discord, "The Stranger and Her Friend" MLP fan fiction. (I'm totally keeping that quote for random wisdom on war though, is that an original from yourself or did you hear it elsewhere?) Anyway, I would think it would be possible to keep only one side "beasts" while still having the "war" go in the non-beast's favor. It would probably include: impenetrable passive defenses, manipulation, negotiation, and possibly aggressive subduction such as stunning, nonfatal weapons, and detainment. A possible pseudo-pacifism is to involve or create a third party who would act as a substitute participant such as mercenaries or a dedicated civilization that would selflessly defend the utopian society within possibly in a symbiotic relationship (Changelings defending Equestria in exchange for love and adoration from the ponies within seems to be an adequate example. Equestria being mostly demilitarized and strongly abhorring violence while changelings require love to survive and thrive despite being a very predominantly military force.)
Maybe I'll make a blog about it...
Random edit: I suddenly feel like going on Memebase, making a trollface caption saying "I believe your syntax criticism has a syntax error!", then go hunting for reviews where someone criticized a story for bad grammar/spelling but left an unintentional grammatical error or misspelling of their own. It somehow originated from me wondering if I should search for grammar/spelling errors myself but then deciding against it because if nothing tripped me up the first time so it would just be kinda mean to go looking for problems when they don't really make much difference.
693445
Oh, I'm sure a war can be waged in which one or both sides retain their humanity. Being a soldier doesn't make you a beast. It does, however, force you to do beast-like things; in this case, that thing is killing. War is a bloody, messy, horrible affair, and when Discord says that particular quote, I am somewhat inclined to agree with him (er, me). But this is Discord we're talking about, who knows what that guy's deal is?
694293
Oh ho! Wouldn't you like to know!
*Sigh* I wish humans had been left out.
The human chapter is interesting, but I don't like how it breaks the flow of Celestia's story. Maybe this isn't the best place to put this chapter?
Anyway, it was interesting. Although I doubt Discord ever killed ponies in the official timeline (it's a world made for kids, and nowadays that means no one dies permanently), your story makes for a compelling read.
693445
Oh, and yeah, I did come up with that little snippet by myself. A poet is me!
694662
Well, they ARE (mostly) extinct at this point. Wish granted!
In all seriousness though, go read my journal. They only make a brief cameo, and this chapter will be the only one of its kind (as in, the only dealing with humans; there'll be more "Additional Research" chapters).
[qoute]The human chapter is interesting, but I don't like how it breaks the flow of Celestia's story. Maybe this isn't the best place to put this chapter?[/qoute]
Exactly
But like mrscribt, i'll continue read it. Aside from the human aspect, I find its good as Visiden Visidane's Upheavel series.
i am now officially addicted to this fic. i can't wait for chapter 9.
P.s the whole Hieyumans concept was brilliant, it surprised the hell out of me
I'll admit that I didn't make the Hieyuman = Human immediately, but this chapter did not surprise me at all. Personally, I don't mind HIE fics so long as they're well done. (There are a ton of shite ones, though)
695545
"Well, they ARE (mostly) extinct at this point."
"... ARE (mostly) extinct..."
"...(mostly)..."
Something you not telling us brony?
700367
I only meant that Joe survived the encounter with Discord, and that he was spared the mass genocide at the hands of Discord's "friends".
...OR DID I?!
700402
Maybe I should have emphathized the "...at this point." as well meaning (gasp) PRESENT TENSE! dun dun dun!
Ok, well if you say there be no humans then I guess i'll have to take your word for it... OR DO I?
714217
Ah yes, the infamous Eternal! The wonderful (and decidedly long) fiction that inspired me to write my own.
And thank you!
humans allies with ponies? in war?! EPIC. SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY!
You make humanity noble and worthy of its title of Reclaimer. Allons-y!
Twi may be a quick learner, but she will never learn that particular skill. You could tie her up and have Luna cast a sleep spell strong enough to knock her out for a minimum of twenty-four hours, and she'd be free and sleep-studying within five.
Tia. I expect you to know better than to arm a weapon you are not sure you can control when you do not intend to use it. If it doesn't have a safety, you should not put a bullet in it unless you need to fire it (and if it does have a safety, obviously it should be on).
I mean, you seem to have at least remembered not to point it at anything important, but still. I'm disappointed.
War. What is it good for? Discord.
I didn't make the Hieyum-Human part either.I actually thought hyena!
What?I'm weird....
This Chapter suprised me. You made it work. I imagine had humanity won, Equestria would have been facing an entirly new and even greater threat. Had Discord lost, we would have filled his wake.
Oh dear freaking god the feels. So so many feels.
huh? Well i bet that will be important.
Not bad for a human chapter. I'm happy to be hearing that they won't be playing a major role from now on. Celestia should probably try to reign in twilight and withhold more information until she gets some rest and stops neglecting her friends and spike. Discord's sanctuary sounds Important, and his motivations imtrigue me. What's he after? Wiping out all life would certainly be incredibly boring, him wiping out humans implies he either saw them as a real threat, or his friends wanted them gone for some reason. I'm very curious to see where you go with his motivations in the long term.
Well, this was unexpected, like the mentions of humans in Paradise... but very clever.
8990633
Thanks! I had fun writing this chapter. I wanted humans to be a thing in the world, but not to be too central to the story.
DO NOT LOAD A GUN UNLESS YOU MEAN TO FIRE IT, TIA!
...
A'hem.
Anyway, were those Umbra that showed up halfway through there?