//------------------------------// // Chapter 14: Civil War // Story: Havoc // by Histy //------------------------------// The day was going by like any other for the children. Their daily training they received from the Praefector assigned to them continued unhindered. They continued to gain knowledge on discipline, how to fight, and trusting their comrades. As of now, they were on lunch break, all of them fed army rations. "It might not be good, but once you get to the battlefield, you'll have far more pressing concerns than food," their Magister would say. Lunch break was exceedingly boring compared to their training. It did not have the adrenaline rush that dueling others had. But they had to eat. An army marches on its stomach, after all. That was all too familiar to a colt. He wasn't as socializing as the others, often sitting alone, contemplating how the battlefield would be like, as the Magister always talked about it. As he continued to eat his ration, as bad as it tasted to his young mouth, he looked around the lunch lounge. It was a roofless area, like the rest of the training camp, the sun reigning heat upon them he thought impossible in the northern regions. It was peculiarly hot today. The wooden walls that separated the camp into sections and, by extension, the camp itself, had been made in haste, just in a few days. The camp was divided into five sections: tents for manipuli and Magisters in the southern part, the camp's entrance and armory on the western part, the training area on the eastern part, the lunch lounge area on the northern part, and the center was a place rarely used; the arena. The only time it will ever been used, the colt thought, would be if someone was willing to fight to the death with another. And no one wanted to do that. At least not yet. Nonetheless, the colt continued to eat. He watched groups of his comrades bicker amongst another, conversing on the same things as they always had: arguments on who was stronger, fictitious stories from the arena, even some betting that they could make the Imperatrix fall for them. The latter made the colt scoff. He knew all this was just friends being friends. If no one ever butted heads with each other, than friends wouldn't exist. Saying the word friends made the colt wish he had some. His bat wings often pushed off anyone willing to talk to him. Bat ponies were a massive rarity in the north, and whenever one sees something strange, they often stay away. The colt sighed. Just like when he first came here. Maybe he should just- "Everyone, listen up!" The voice that rose above the others was strange. It wasn't their Magister's. Looking over, the colt noticed all the trainees gathering at one table, with another trainee, an earth pony, standing on top of it. Whatever news he had was apparently making everyone interested, including the colt. So he joined in, taking a place at the edge of the crowd. The earth pony began to speak, "I've heard the Magister talking with a Praefector!" just him saying that garnered some whispers amongst the audience. After all, Praefectors very rarely come to the camp, unless it was a matter of grave importance. "What did they say?" one trainee, a filly, eagerly asked. "I didn't hear the whole conversation, but I heard the Praefector say that the Imperatrix is dead!" The crowd emitted a gasp. "But she's our savior! How can she be dead?" "The Praefector said it might be a plot to get rid of her, and make a government that only fits their needs, and not of the people!" At this news, the crowd began to get angry. "That's heartless!" "The tyrant Equestrians are coming back!" We can't let this happen!" "And we won't." All eyes turned to the lounge's entrance, there they saw their Magister, along with the Praefector. Immediately, everyone stood at attention, the first thing they ever learned. The Magister ignored their actions, and continued to speak, "The Praefector and I have decided that the Imperatrix' murder shall not go unavenged, and thus we are sending you to your first battle." The colt was surprised. They've only been training for a few weeks, and they're already marching into battle? It seems a little rushing. "Get your weapons from the armory, and organize yourselves into battle lines at the gate, we will be waiting for you there," without another word, the Magister and Praefector walked off. Immediately, everyone went to the manipuli they were assigned to on day one. The colt did the same, hurrying off to his manipuli. Unlike everyone else, however, he didn't travel to the armory, instead going towards the tent his manipuli was stationed at. Once he was within his manipulus' tent, he immediately began gathering some things valuable to him. It wasn't much, but at least he'll have some good luck charms. "Discipulus." The colt jumped at the arrival of his Manus. Or Mana, since she was female. He looked over to his Mana, "Y-yes?" "The Magister gave us specific instructions to take weapons from the armory. He did not say anything about taking personal belongings in our tents." "But, it helps me fi-" "The only thing that helps you fight is courage and a sword" the Mana interrupted, "and you're clearly not showing you know that." The colt didn't argue- mainly because he couldn't. He dipped his head in defeat, "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Saying sorry won't save you from death on the battlefield," the Mana stated harshly. She then sighed, "I'll let you take some things here, but only necessary equipment. Move!" The colt jolted into action, picking up a small sword from his bunk in the tent, another few things that had been assigned to trainees on day one, mostly so they could practice battle techniques and dueling styles. The bunk assigned to him was like any other, the only difference being the name that had been inscribed so that he could remember where he slept. Sword Cure. His name. He didn't know why he was called that. As far as he knew, Sword Cure was definitely going to do something that wasn't curing by any means. He now took notice on how much he's changed since he started training here. His gray fur had became more rough, his yellow eyes now far past the childish color and brightness, gone were his naive beliefs, he was a hardened warrior. Or at least he believed so. He was only twelve, after all. "Will you stop standing there and move!?" Sword came crashing back into reality. He scrambled to follow his Mana's orders, and quickly sprinting out of the tent with his Mana following not to far behind, both of them heading to join up with all the other manipuli at the camp's entrance. Together with them, they'll deliver the much-needed justice against their savior's killers. "How disappointing..." I muttered to myself. In front of me, on the palace's infirmary bed, lay the corpse of Baron, lifeless, a strange black blood oozing out from the opening between his body armor and helmet, creating a pool of blood under him. His throat must have been slit. There was another bed beside Baron's, most likely for Stiermann. There was blood on it, too, but a body was absent, giving off a possibility that he may still be alive. With that in mind, I decided to continue searching through the infirmary. I walked passed empty rooms, all with many kinds of medical equipment without any operators. Mainly because they appeared to have all been slain. Whether it was from Stiermann or the conspirators is a mystery to me. Then I began to find corpses of dead soldiers. These weren't mine, as they didn't wear the black and orange armor I had assigned all of them to have. The armor was more of a mix between dark blue and purple. The soldiers wearing them all had bat-like wings. Bat ponies, I soon realised. An exceptionally rare species. The floor abruptly shook, causing me to go on alert immediately. I detected the source of the vibrations to be coming from a wall not too far from me. It was too loud for it to be a pony. With that alone, I called out, "Stiermann! Show yourself! Or do you want me to regard you as an enemy?" The stomping stopped for a moment, before continuing. Now they were starting to come closer. And faster. Before I knew it, Stiermann crashed through the wall in front of me. I barely dodged in time for his gigantic axe to miss its mark. I skidded on my feet a few meters away. Just as with Ink Writer, my anger began to rise along with my disbelief. "Stiermann," I growled, "Why do you dare attack your Goddess?" "You are not my Goddess," Stiermann's retort deeply surprised me. Now looking at him, he was shrouded in a dark purple mass, it rising like steam out of his body. His eyes were now a deep, dark red. It was clear to me now that this was most certainly not Stiermann. Someone had brainwashed him. Luckily for me, I had no qualms with killing him. I got into a battle stance, a taunting smile adorning my features, "Then tell me, Stiermann," I said slowly, "Who is your God?" "A truly ancient being has enlightened me on the truths of this world." "If by enlightened, you mean brainwashed, right?" "Grogar is the true God of this world. He brainwashes none," my eyes widened when he said that blasphemous name, my stance faltering. "Grogar... he can't be speaking about... him, right?" I emitted a nervous chuckle, unsettled, "G-Grogar? Surely you must jest. He is undeniably dead." "Grogar does not die," Pseudo-Stiermann replied, as if scripted. He then got into his own battle pose, readying his axe, "Now ready your weapon, "Goddess", and let us have an honorable duel," he stated, a smirk on his snout. Dammit. I hated honor sometimes, as in I always had an "honorable" duel (as in no magic was permitted), as long as my opponent requested for it. Like I said before, defence of honor is very important to me. This time is no exception. Nonetheless, I fixed my stance, readying myself for the battle to come. "If I defeat you, I'm certain to give you a thumbs down." "We'll see about that, then, right?" Without anything stalling us, the duel commenced. Despite all of the children being moved to camps on the outskirts of the Crystal Empire, life in the city itself continued unhindered. The ponies went on with their daily lives as if nothing had ever happened, running shops, cafes, and other small businesses. Much of the grand library (along with its contents), had unfortunately been destroyed by the "Bull and Knight", leaving much of the Empire's history destroyed. This was perfect for Zerstörung, as the Goddess had no qualms with changing history to her image. She assigned several Catellus' to do the job of restructuring history to tell the population of how glorious she truly was, and how she had divine right to rule the city into greatness. It didn't take long for the captives to learn about this, and they sent a letter to Celestia regarding it, as she was the only one who could send a letter back to them. The sun princess still had yet to respond. "Everypony! Gather! There is urgent news!" a stallion, adorned in extravagant clothing, announced on the steps of the grand library. The three captives, Cadence, Shining, and Spike, all looked up from the cafe table they sat on. They were on a simple outing, discussing things, soon finding themselves ordering food from a cafe directly across the street from the grand library, now mostly rebuilt. "What's going on?" Cadence asked put loud. "I don't know," Shining answered, "If anything, it's just a gathering they have every day." "He said everypony," Spike interjected, "think about it, nopony says that around here!" True. Zerstörung had forbidden the use of the words "everypony" and "nopony", and everyone had to abide to that rule. Everyone except the captives. Curiosity getting the better of them, they all joined the crowd, anxious on the news the stallion had in store for them. Shining and Cadence remained closely together, while Spike rode on Cadence's back, in order to prevent being separated. "The Imperatrix is dead!" he declared suddenly. The crowd emitted a loud gasp. Some looked ready to cheer, some looking unhappy, and the rest with looks of uncertainty. "With her death, the government shall go through a steady reformation, and we will once again be free from the shackles that hold us!" After he said that, the crowd with unhappy expressions all spoke up in disagreement. "Shackles? She freed us all!" "Are you reforming for the people, or is it for your own personal gain?" The stallion's muzzle scrunched in frustration. He let out a loud whistle, and not a second later did soldiers in golden-clad armor step out from the shadows. "Get these degenerate scum out of my sight. They do not understand true freedom," he commanded. The side that still supported the Imperatrix shouted again, now engaging in a shouting contest with those who opposed them. The group of captives, worried about the situation they were currently in, quickly withdrew from the crowd with haste. "This thing is getting out of hoof," Shining Armor observed. "No doubt about that," Cadence replied, "but those guards- their auntie's." "Yeah," Shining acknowledged, "the big question is why they're here." Cadence nodded, turning to Spike, "Can you write a letter to auntie?" Spike shrugged, "Well, I would, but I don't have any paper. Or a quill." Cadence, realizing what he was implying, sighed, "Guess we have to go back to our quarters," she said, "but we will get an answer for this. That I'm certain," with that, her horn brightened, and in one bright flash, the captives were gone. Meanwhile, the situation back in front pf the library was one of chaos. The new soldiers were shoving and pushing the Imperatrix' supporters out of the picture, the stallion on the steps looking pleased as they were. "Yes! Take them away! Show them they're no longer in control!" "That is what you say, traitor." All eyes shifted to the road down from the library. There, they saw a Praefector, beside with him a Magister. Behind them, lay an army of children about the size of a sodalitas. "Your display of power is disappointing. Instead of pushing, maybe you should try something that actually works." The Praefector unsheathed his sword, followed thereafter by the Magister and all of the children. The chorus of swords was terrifying. "...Killing, I believe, is far more effective."