War. You've heard that it never changes. It does. War changes us. It changes our surroundings. it changes our lifestyle, our personalities, our demeanor. The devastation of the megaspells took everything away. The act of war may never change, but it's been known to change a beautiful place into a hellish wasteland. You can blame the megaspells. You can blame the tanks and guns, but what about us? What about the events that led up to the thought process of those politicians? Did they mean well? Were they striving to make life easier? Six friends. Six ministries. It should have been easy for them to improve technology, arcane science, medicine, security, image, and... awesomeness. However, meaning well, does not necessarily make the outcome justifiable.
So, what happens when this sudden boom of industry is introduced to a simple lifestyle? Well, it leads to a demand for more resources. That leads to needing more from other civilizations. Mix in a few misunderstandings, a few bad apples, and maybe even some segregation and what have you got? A land tainted with battle and bloodshed. That isn't the last step, no. One side needs to win. One side needs better weapons, better soldiers. That side needs to be better. Thus, the creation of megaspells. Those nasty bombs of deadly magic could and would eventually destroy the very civilization it was meant to protect. No amount of ministry mares could prepare for such a devastation. Not even a Steel Ranger's armor could withstand the miles-wide shock wave. The Enclave had the right idea, it seemed.
If you don't know the Grand Pegasus Enclave, they were a militia made up of mostly pegasi to aid in the fight against the zebra. The Ministry of Awesome's top pony, Rainbow Dash, led them to several victories. That is, until they rejected her leadership. Suddenly, the pegasi retreated into the sky to escape the blasts. They abandoned everything she stood for. Loyalty was no longer a priority for them. From then on, Rainbow Dash was an outlaw. Her loyalty to her home was unmatched by their need for survival. Of course, the development of their strict laws prevented anypony from trying to follow her. Disobey them and you were literally branded with her cutie mark. This would be the definition of the term "Dashite". You would be banned from the clouds, shunned by most everypony.
Skip ahead one hundred sixty years and you've got the very place no one wanted. Where ponies once lived in harmony, every race now leaves their doors locked in fear of others. They are afraid to help each other as their ancestors did so long ago. Nopony can be trusted. A vast wasteland of raiders, thieves, murder, chaos, and even a few tyrants. Any glimmer of hope seems to be as scarce as sunlight.
Maybe, though. Just maybe, the occasional hero will emerge. One pony can make a difference. Watch those stable doors, for they can open. Watch the small towns, for the townsfolk can unite. And sometimes, if you look up, you can see heroic traits in the most unlikely of places...