Fancy Pants ran on. He was trying not to think about how much his body ached all over, with the promise of far more brutal punishment to come. He ventured a glance to the side and saw that Rarity was also finding things tough. Neither of them was a natural runner, though undoubtedly Rarity’s muscles and reflexes had been honed by her years of adventure with the other Bearers. Fluttershy was gliding by her side, encouraging her as best she could.
Fancy considered once again the minimal instructions Flight had given them before they set off. They must stop the Greenmanes at all costs from reaching the guard post, where despite Sandcastle’s Earth pony strength he and Shining Mane would surely not be able to hold off four attackers for long. Fancy ruminated on “at all costs” – an easy phrase with a very hard reality. He wondered, too, why he was on the verge of a skirmish in a conflict he knew almost nothing about. In formal attire, at that; he couldn’t suppress a little chuckle at the thought.
Fancy, Rarity and Fluttershy had by this time adopted the name “Strangers” as their own. It did at least lessen the confusion a little, given that Flight considered herself an Equestrian just as much as the others did. Fancy had so many questions for the gruff pegasus, but that would have to wait until—
“Up!” gasped Rarity, and Fancy raised his head to see that Flight and Fluttershy had come almost to a halt, so high in the sky that he had to squint to make them out as anything more than specks. Undoubtedly their quarries would have heard the unicorns’ hoofbeats by now, but as long as they had not spotted the two pegasi the Greenmanes would not know for sure how large the pursuing group was – thus ceding a crucial element of surprise. Even if they had been seen, only the greatest archers or most potent spell-casters would be able to reach an enemy who stayed that far aloft.
Unfortunately, that would mean two against four, and neither Fancy nor Rarity had sufficient power to overcome even average unicorns when their strength was augmented by a couple of Earth ponies. The only way, therefore, was for the pegasi to harry the Greenmanes from above, relying on their speed and dexterity in the air and distracting them while the unicorns made short, sharp attacks.
Fancy bit his lip. The other three had seen combat before, but he had not, at least beyond the mock battles of his cadet years. Once again he wondered what he was doing out here – and whether he would ever see Fleur again.
“Go!” screamed Flight from somewhere above. Fancy looked up just in time to see the Greenmane unicorns’ horns aglow. A moment later, he realised there was a yellow blur barrelling down towards the green-haired quartet.
Then one of the Earth ponies looked up too—at the very moment that Fluttershy’s hooves made contact with the side of his neck. Fancy didn’t hear the impact, but he saw the Greenmane crumple immediately to the ground. He redirected his gaze to the front as he closed on the others. The time for wondering was over.
* * *
A stillness descended, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of four ponies. The other four, sprawled in the dirt, made no sound at all.
“Right,” said Flight, “Three out cold and one… going cold. I’d have liked to have taken them all alive, but we can’t be too fussy.” He turned to Fluttershy. “So, I have to admit I’m impressed,” he said. “You really can kill.”
“Oh goodness, that pony isn’t dead,” said Fluttershy, eyes wide. “I could never do a thing like that. He’s just unconscious, like the others.”
Flight stopped in her tracks. “What?”
Fluttershy smiled wanly. “He’s in a deeper sleep than the other three – I did manage to make sure of that – but he’ll wake up again eventually, when his wounds are a little easier for him to bear.”
“What?” said Flight again, in that even tone which so often hides a world of disbelief. “But you told me you could kill!”
“I know,” said Fluttershy. “But you didn’t ask me what you meant by that. I mean—” here her voice wavered and her ears drooped “—I’ve helped critters who had nowhere else to go. Sometimes it’s kinder to help them find their way to the Great Beyond. Many times,” she added in a whisper. “But never, never a pony.”
“So what did…?” Flight trailed off, exasperated.
Fluttershy scuffed a hoof. “I’m not a doctor, but I know a lot about pony anatomy. It’s not that different from… from some animals.”
Fancy looked away. As he swung his head around, he caught sight of Rarity, holding herself unnaturally still and tense. Her eyes spoke of secrets never to be told between her and Fluttershy, and Fancy felt deeply uncomfortable for having seen even the briefest glimpse. He shook his head hard in a fruitless attempt to forget the sight, then realised that Flight had been talking to him. He looked up into her questioning face.
“Er, I do apologise,” he said. “In a world of my own there, eh?” Flight quirked aneyebrow impatiently. “Um,” continued Fancy, “I’m afraid I didn’t catch what you said. Awfully sorry and all that, but could you perhaps repeat it?”
“I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies,” said Flight. “If you’d done that a few minutes ago we’d probably all be dead.” She emphasised the final word as if to underscore her point, though Fancy needed no telling exactly how fortunate they had been. “Anyway,” she went on, “what I said was: help me get these ponies trussed up and onto the cart. I could do it myself, but a horn works faster than wings.”
“All right. But what then?”
“Then we take them off to Sandy and Shiny.” Fancy couldn’t suppress a giggle.
“Something funny?” Flight’s tone suggested there had better not be.
Fancy waved a hoof. “No, no. Do carry on.”
“And on the way, I’ll fill you all in.”
“Fill us in on what?”
“On the Greenmanes! Stars above, could you and the mares maybe think about letting me know when you’re going to go into Idiot Mode again?”
Rarity stomped across and shoved her muzzle in Flight’s face, saying, “I really have had enough of this. We’ve been held prisoner, fitted with these infernal multigem collars and made to fight. I don’t mind a bit of danger now and again, but I would like to know what this is all about without this quite unnecessary impoliteness.”
Fluttershy backed her up. “Rarity is right. You may be our guard but there is no reason to be rude.”
Flight smiled slightly at Fluttershy’s tone, but backed off at a glance from Rarity. Fancy shifted awkwardly, a corner of his backgammon case pressing uncomfortably against his hide through the lining of his jacket.
“All right.” Flight motioned for the others to sit down. “Looks like we’re going to have ourselves a nice campfire story. No s’mores, I’m afraid. Tonight’s special is scorched dandelion. On the house.”
“Oh, do get on with it,” grumbled Rarity.
“Well,” said Flight, “you know some of it already. You are in a Restricted Zone, I am taking you to Canterlot to see the Protector, you are going to have to have a bloody good explanation. That fight with the Greenmanes will help, but it won’t be enough.”
“But who are the Greenmanes?” pressed Fancy. “I do rather object to fighting when I don’t know why I’m doing it.”
“So why did you?”
“I, ah, well… dash it all.”
“I do my best,” said Flight Sergeant Rainbow Dash, with the faintest of smiles.
“Ah, my apologies. Well, it’s a rum thing, but—look here, you’re still not answering my actual question.”
Flight said, “Okay, you want the plain truth? Here it is. The Greenmanes have been around for years, before my time even. Until recently, the Protector considered them harmless lunatics and left them alone. When they started burning carts—not so much. They want a green Equestria.”
“What do you mean, a green Equestria?” asked Fluttershy.
“They want us all to go back to the Wild Time.”
“What was the Wild Time?” asked Fluttershy.
“I thought so,” said Flight. When Fluttershy furrowed her brow, Flight continued, “I’ve never done magic, but I know a lot about mirror anatomy. I know you don’t belong here. So will the Protector, but that’s for another day.”
Flight settled into a more relaxed position. “The Wild Time was exactly what it sounds like. There were no cities, no towns, no guards, not even any real roads. Ponies lived in small herds, browsing on what food they could find. Some even hunted or fished. I’ve been fishing myself, as it happens.”
“But you’re a pony!” cried Rarity, screwing up her face in distaste.
“Well spotted. There’s no reason ponies can’t eat meat. I’m sure Fluttershy will tell you that, if you don’t know it yourself.” Fluttershy blanched, but gave a tiny noise of agreement. “If you were adrift in an ocean boat with a spear, surrounded by fish and seabirds, you’d eat it too. Or would you prefer to starve in a bulging larder?”
“But—” Rarity began again.
“I overheard you talking about your cat. Where do you think her food comes from? From what I’ve heard of her, she sure as hay doesn’t catch it all herself.
“In any case,” Flight went on as Rarity opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, “that is what the Wild Timers did. For centuries. Until, so the tale goes, one wandering tribe met another near what is now Canterlot. They listened to each other’s legends and realised that not only did the land they had spoken of for so long truly exist, but that they were standing in it. They took it as a sign and began to build. It took many years, but at last a city stood on the spot.
“To most ponies, that was the end of darkness. But to a few, it was simply the end. They said that ponies were natural creatures, of the earth and the clouds and the auras. Cities were unnatural and cursed. They began to colour their manes green as a symbol of their wish for Equestrians to become browsers again. Everything that went wrong in the new Canterlot was a judgement from the Moon Empress.”
Flight waited for Rarity’s coughing fit to subside.
“As I told you before, for a long time the Greenmanes were no more than a fringe group of lunatics. But then the choking clouds came. To this day, nopony knows where from—but the Greenmanes knew. So they said, though I have my doubts. It was the Judgement of Judgements, and Canterlot must fall. Their numbers began to grow, very slowly at first. But eventually, the Protector of the day ordered their banishment from the city. She was prepared for a fight, but there was none. They left almost joyfully.
“After a year, the attacks began. The Protector acted swiftly and declared the Restricted Zone, with the Flying Corps reformed to defend it, and so it has been ever since.”
* * *
It was almost dark by the time they reached the guard post. There had been no further alarms, but Fancy was concerned to see that Rarity was clearly favouring her left hind leg. She’d waved off Fluttershy when she had attempted to take a closer look, telling her to look after herself first, and Flight had pronounced it “nothing to worry about” – but pegasi could take their weight off their hooves when they needed to. Excepting the very few unicorns capable of self-levitation, their tribe could not, and without the iron constitution of most Earth ponies they were uniquely vulnerable to leg injuries.
They were also going to be late getting to Canterlot. Flight didn’t seem especially concerned by this, but Sandcastle seemed to be fretting slightly. Shining Mane too, though he had at least remembered to handle sending a message to the capital. Fancy wondered how, given the lack of trains and dragons in the vicinity. Perhaps the large unicorn could teleport, though that was hardly a common ability. He was too tired to ask.
On the plus side, their accommodation was nicer this time, with the Greenmanes locked in the side room, and their aching bodies welcomed sleep. Before that, there was yet more tea.
Flight and the Strangers set off at dawn once more. It was good to be trotting again, rather than galloping in desperate pursuit, and Rarity in particular clearly appreciated the easier pace. Flight decided that they should camp at the spot where they had first met the Greenmanes, as the road beyond that point was unfamiliar to the Strangers. They arrived in early evening and so could allow themselves to take things slowly when building their fire.
Scratching his head as the four of them sat around the crackling pile, Fancy said, “Well, it is rather nice to have a fire. But isn’t it going to attract attention? You must be able to see it from an awfully long way off!”
“It might,” said Flight. “It might. And if it attracts the wrong sort of attention, we’ll have to be ready.” He looked from weary face to weary face. “Yes. It is hard out here. But that’s why we have a Restricted Zone in the first place.”
Fancy looked down at his jacket and picked irritably at a tear in the lapel, where a button had been ripped off during the fighting. He patted it down a bit and winced as a hard edge pressed against a bruise on his chest. Then he brightened.
“Well,” Fancy said, pulling out the silver box. “Shall we do something a little more, ah, relaxing?”
Fluttershy proved to be a demon backgammon player.