//------------------------------//
// Case Thirteen, Chapter Four: Hurt, But Healing 
// Story: Ponyville Noire: Kriegspiel—Black, White, and Scarlet 
// by PonyJosiah13 
//------------------------------//

“And so we lay these brave heroes to rest,” Mayor Mare declared solemnly as she stepped down from the podium. Slowly, she trotted past the line of four flag-draped coffins that lay on the grass, laying a gentle hoof atop each of them as she passed. Chief Cold Case followed her, looking overburdened in her decorated uniform as she gave Officer Creek Dancer, Officer Red Rover, Sergeant Tire Track, and Detective Sergeant Trace Evidence each a final salute. 

The weather felt all wrong for a funeral. The sun was high in the sky, with only a few white clouds passing through the sea of blue. A light wind carried the aroma of dewy grass up to the attendants' nostrils, mixing with the perfume of the carefully arranged flowers around the coffins and the photographs of the fallen officers and soldiers placed in front of the assembly. 

Misty and the Royal Guards who had died at Zugzwang’s hooves were not here: Misty’s ashes would be placed in the Sky Garden at Cloudsdale per pegasus tradition, while the six Royal Guards were to be interred at the Royal Cemetery in Canterlot alongside their brother soldiers, the seven Pillars, and Faust herself. It had been decided that the primary memorial would be here in Ponyville. 

Fidgeting in her seat, Daring glanced around at the gathered crowd that was clustered in the small arena, surrounded on all sides by gravestones. Red was sitting nearby, forcing himself to keep his back straight even as his eyes shimmered with dampness. Honeydew sat next to him; each had a wing draped around the other’s withers and a hoof on Lionmane’s shoulders as he nestled between them. 

Suunkii, Sirba, and Muziqaa were next in the row; Daring noted that Sirba and Muziqaa had only black beads woven into their manes and tails today. Doctor Mortis sat next to her colleague, dabbing at her eyes with a hoofkerchief; the white of her coat looked flat and dull today, like an unrefined gem. 

Twilight was a little further down, blinking back tears as she hugged Spike to her side. Flash sat next to her, his uniform free of creases or wrinkles, his hoof wrapped around hers. He kept his eyes on Pastor Sound, who was still sitting on her seat on the stage, head bowed over her cane in silent contemplation. 

Near the back of the assembled mourners were Princesses Celestia and Luna, their crowns and gorgets glittering in the sun. A contingent of Royal Guards and Wonderbolts in blue and yellow uniforms surrounded them; Daring recognized Spitfire, Soarin, Fleetfoot, Arc Light, Tempest, and Captain Eagle giving a final salute to the officers. 

Princess Luna had a patch over her eye, which seemed comical when combined with her expression of quiet grief. For a moment, a vision of Luna wearing a pirate ensemble danced before Daring’s eyes and she had to stifle a laugh. 

Finally, the Outbackers were clustered around her, their vests adorned with black armbands as a sign of respect. Bobby was sitting to Daring’s left in her wheelchair, holding hooves with Rain, who was sitting in her wheelchair in the aisle, her head laying on her husband’s shoulder. 

Phillip was sitting to Daring’s right, his eyes on one of the photographs placed on the easels before the stage, each of them framed with flowers. A younger Trace Evidence, adorned in his crisp formal blue uniform, smiled faintly back at them from his place in the middle of the line of photographs. To his right was Misty Fly, a confident smile on her face, her flight goggles dangling around her neck. 

Behind the stage, four freshly-dug graves waited, granite headstones already placed behind them. 

Cold Case marched over to where a squadron waited—four police officers, two Royal Guards, and a Wonderbolt, all standing at attention with their highly polished Summerfield rifles held at their sides. Cold glanced over at Captain Eagle and Commander Spitfire and received a nod from both. 

“Squad…present arms!” Cold Case barked. 

Like automatons, the seven ponies rose up onto their hind legs, raising their rifles to the ready position with the applause of wood against hooves. 

“Aim!” 

Seven hooves stepped to the side, seven heads turned. Seven rifle barrels were aimed up at the sky. 

“Fire!” 

The seven rifles roared out in one voice, smoke and fire spat into the air. Phillip flinched and lowered his head, his breath coming hard and fast. 

“Aim! Fire!” 

Again the rifles gave their report. Again Phillip flinched. 

“Aim! Fire!” 

“Phil?” Bobby asked as the thunder of the final volley rolled over them. 

“I want to go,” Phillip muttered, trying to force himself to take slow, even breaths. 

“Okay,” Bobby nodded. “C’mon.” 

Daring stood up along with Phil and his father, Rain quietly pushing her wheelchair out of the way to allow them to slither out of the row. They slowly retreated from the funeral, heads down as if in shame; Phillip winced with every other breath, feeling as though an anvil was pressing down on his chest, crushing over his heart, where shame and fear squirmed together like a den of snakes. 

As they passed the Outbackers, Sax City looked up at Bobby with a question in his bespectacled eyes. “Just head back to the ship,” Bobby replied quietly. “We need some time alone. Meet up at the wake later.” 

“Right-o,” Sax nodded. 

And with that, the family left the graveyard, trotting past rows and rows of marble headstones to the iron gate. 





As soon as they got home, Phillip tore his trilby and vest from his body, flinging them in the vague direction of the coat hanger as he rushed inside. Grabbing the door to the basement, he flung it open and hurried down the steps. 

Daring paused at the front door, turning back as Bobby and Rain approached the front step. Bobby started to try to pick up Rain’s wheelchair, but she gently shooed him back and flicked a switch on the side of the control handle. The entire contraption glowed faintly yellow with a soft humming and levitated a few inches off the ground, allowing her to propel herself up onto the landing. 

“Hover charm,” she explained with a smile. “Amazing how fast technology comes.” 

Daring’s comment was arrested by an envelope waiting on the floor of the hallway, having fallen through the mail slot. Her own name and address was written in pencil on the envelope, but the return address was typewritten: “Frostback Prison, 3369 Penitentiary Road, Ponyville.”

Daring scooped up the envelope and tore it open as she headed into the living room, unfolding the lined paper within. 



Daring: 

Honestly, Frostback isn’t that bad. Sure, it’s crowded and smelly and my cellmate is rude, but I’ve at least got a roof over my head, three squares a day, and I can sleep almost as much as I want. 

Scarlet’s still in the infirmary: personally, I think she’s hiding in there because she’s scared to join gen pop. She’s got quite a few enemies in here. I hear she’s putting in a guilty plea on everything. Not what I expected: she does know with everything she’s done, she’s buying herself a one-way ticket to Clovenworth, right? 

The Licorice’s are both still adjusting, but Black’s sticking close to me for the time being. We’re working with that lawyer Officer Sentry recommended, coming up with a defense strategy for the upcoming sentencing. Honestly, though, whatever they give us, we deserve worse for everything we’ve done. 

Anyway, enough of the pity party. How’re you and Phil? I’m glad he woke up, I hope he’s healing. Physically, at least. 

I imagine that the two of you are pretty shaken up. I wish I had some better words of advice for that, but all I can really say is, I hope you two are getting some help. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I think you really need to. I know you try to bottle up pain, but we both know that won’t help. Seriously, reach out to your friends and get some help. You can reach out to me if you think it’ll help.

There’s one other thing I want to talk about: Endeavor. I understand that that officer is taking care of him for now? I appreciate that, but that’s not what I want for him. What I really want for him—what he needs—is a normal life. 

I want you to promise me something, Daring. Promise me that you’ll find Endeavor a good home. Find him a family that will love him, raise him right. Raise him away from all of this. Give him the chance that we never had. 

I know it sounds hollow, but I’m sorry. For everything I’ve done, to you, to this city, and to your friends. I should’ve stuck with you, Daring. You should’ve been my real family. 

I love you, little sister. 

Bright Sparks.



Daring read the last sentence again a few times, blinking as the dust started to scratch at her eyes. She sniffled and wiped at her face with a wing. “I promise, Sparks,” she whispered. 

There came a drumming sound from down below, a rhythmic pounding. “He’s hitting the bag,” Daring concluded, dropping the letter onto the table and heading down the basement stairs. Bobby followed on her tail, with Rain using her hover charm to descend after them, following the pounding percussion. 

They reached the basement gymnasium. Phillip was standing in the corner, his back to the others, punching the heavy bag that dangled from the roof. 

“Phil?” Rain called. 

Thump, thump, thump, thump. Phillip continued pounding at the bag as if he hadn’t heard, every blow denting the canvas. He panted through gritted teeth as he punched. 

“Phil,” Daring said, taking a step forward. 

Phil just started pounding harder, faster, thump-thump-thump-thump. He lowered his head, his swings becoming wilder as he flailed at the bag. Water started to drip onto the floor; not all of it, the witnesses realized, was sweat. 

“Phil,” Daring repeated. 

Phil just grunted, then seized the bag and yanked it off the chain, slamming it to the ground. He straddled the bag and started pounding at it in blind fury, whamwhamwhamwham. He panted and grunted, half-snarled curses leaking out through his clenched jaw. 

“Phil, stop,” Daring said firmly, striding forward and taking his shoulder. 

He stopped punching the bag, his entire body heaving as he gasped for air, then threw his head back and let out a terrible noise. To call it a scream was inadequate: it was agony and grief so great that it could not be put into words, tearing itself out of Phillip in the only way it could. 

Daring hugged him tight as Bobby and Rain hurried over. Phillip screamed again and again, shaking inside the cocoon of family as hot tears ran from his eyes like faucets. His cries eventually dissolved into choking sobs as he buried his face in his mother’s chest, clinging to his parents and partner like a drowning stallion clings to a life preserver. 

“Shh, shh,” Rain whispered, stroking her son’s mane as his tears soaked into her coat. “It’s okay to not be okay.” 

Phillip took several long breaths to recover, blinking away the last of the tears. “They’re dead,” he whispered, as if afraid that if he spoke it out loud, it would become finalized, absolutely true. 

“Yes,” Daring nodded. “But we’re not.” 

Phillip took another shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he mastered the pain, allowing it to settle down into dormancy in his bones. “Now what?” he mumbled. 

“We take it one step at a time,” Daring replied, wiping her own eyes with her wing. “All together.” 

“We’re staying with you two for the time being,” Bobby said. “We’re going to get you both some help.” 

“But Dad,” Phillip protested. “What about the Outbackers? You’ve still got a tour—” 

“Eh, they can survive without us for a bit,” Bobby shrugged. “You two need us more.” 

Phillip sniffled and nodded. “Thank you,” he said, mopping his face with his shirt. 

The four lay in the gentle embrace for a while longer. “Do you want to go to the wake?” Rain finally asked. 

Phillip was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Not really,” he admitted. “But I think we need to.” 

Daring nodded; what she really wanted to do was crawl into bed, hide beneath the covers, and hope that the beast currently eating her innards would go away. But consciously, she knew that that wouldn’t solve anything. 

“Yeah. Give us some time to clean up and then we’ll go.” 





The blue and yellow lanterns astride the door of the Apple Pie in Your Eye were dim. “Closed for Private Event” read the sign in the window. The faint sound of voices could be heard through the door. 

Phillip paused at the doorway, one hoof on the handle. Daring laid her hoof atop his and looked up at him. He took a breath and nodded, and together they pulled the door open and entered, with Bobby and Rain right behind them.  

The Apple Pie was only half full, officers, family, and friends gathered around tables where food and drink waited. Pictures of Trace and his fallen comrades were placed on the tables and the walls; every single picture had its subject smiling at the crowd. Almost every head looked up as they entered, many greeting them with small smiles. 

Looking around, Daring saw Captain Hewn Oak in deep conversation with Flash Sentry, who was holding hooves with Twilight as Pastor Sound listened from a few chairs down, smiling quietly. Spike was showing off a comic to Muziqaa, whose parents were watching with faint smiles. Doctor Mortis was sitting next to Captain Eagle, both of them stealing glances at each other occasionally. Bumblebee and Arc had their heads on each other’s shoulders, not speaking. Rainbow Dash was sitting in the midst of the Wonderbolts; as Daring watched, Rainbow extended her prosthetic wing for the others to examine. Soarin studied it for a moment, then smiled and nodded, making a comment that Daring did not hear, but made Rainbow’s face light up in delight. 

In the corner, Daring saw Cold Case sitting alone, staring at a foaming mug of cider. The unicorn looked up as she entered and their eyes met. After a moment, Cold nodded and gave Daring a quiet smile, the kind which said much without speaking aloud. Daring returned the gesture, saying the same things in silence, and Cold returned to her contemplation of her drink. 

Pinkie Pie trotted up to Daring. Her body seemed to be a darker shade of pink, and her mane and tail were noticeably less poofy than normal, but she still put on a small, brave smile as she approached. 

“Howdy,” she said, giving Daring a brief but warm hug. “We’re all glad you’re here. I’ve got peach pie and anzac biscuits waiting.” 

“Thanks, Pinkie,” Daring nodded, following the scent of peach pie to the bar. The dessert was waiting for her on the countertop, with a sign next to it: “For Daring.” Bobby and Rain both broke off to speak to the other Outbackers, who were all gathered around one table. 

Applejack was waiting for her. “Glad you showed up,” she said, giving Daring a brief hug over the bar as she sat down. “I know it’s hard to open up like this, but it’ll help. Trust me, I know.” 

Daring glanced over at Phillip to see him receiving an embrace from Rara. It was at this moment that Daring noted the matching golden rings dangling from both Applejack and Rara’s necks. 

“Oh, when did that happen?” she asked, nodding to the engagement ring. 

“After the first concert,” Applejack said, smiling at her ring. “Rara took me out to Ma and Pa’s grove in the orchard and popped it out.” She sighed happily. “Happiest night of my life.” 

“And you totally did not cry, didn’t you?” Rara asked with a smirk. 

“Not as far as anypony else knows,” AJ replied. 

“Congrats,” Phillip nodded with a small smile. 

The door opened again and Prowl entered, looking surprisingly strange without her uniform, a baby carrier holding Endeavor strapped to her chest. Maple Leaf followed, with Skysong flapping along behind him, attached to her father by a harness. 

“Sorry we’re a bit late,” Prowl said, striding up to the bar and sitting down. “This fella was being a bit fussy.” 

Daring looked at the little pale gold colt that blinked back at her, lifting a hoof to clumsily bat a shock of blue mane out of his eyes. “What are we gonna do with you, little guy?” she asked. 

“Oh, he’s adorable!” Rara squeed, kneeling down to tickle the colt’s chin with a hoof. Endeavor giggled happily and wrapped his forelegs around her hoof. “Can I—?” Rara asked. 

“Go ahead,” Prowl nodded, unbuckling the straps. Rara gently lifted the colt out of the harness and cradled him as she sat down on a barstool, allowing Applejack and Pinkie to herd in to admire the infant. 

“I’m still looking for a family to take him in,” Prowl admitted. “Maple and I would like to keep him ourselves, but we don’t really have the money and honestly…” She glanced over at her husband, who was currently trying to get Skysong to stop nibbling on his ears, and smiled wearily. “One is enough,” she stated. 

“Her mother wanted me to make sure he had a good family,” Daring mused out loud, watching Endeavor, who had begun fussing again. 

“Fella sounds hungry,” Applejack said, reaching into the small fridge beneath the bar and pulling out a glass bottle of milk. 

Pinkie rummaged around in her mane for a bit, then pulled out a clean baby bottle. “Ever since the Cakes made me their official foalsitter, I’ve taken to being prepared,” she explained in response to Prowl’s raised eyebrow as Applejack filled up the bottle with milk, then added some warm tap water and shook it vigorously. 

“Here you go, little fella,” Applejack said, offering the colt the bottle, smiling as he suckled down the drink. Endeavor cooed happily at her, milk dribbling down his smiling chin. Rara giggled and gently wiped away the excess. 

The same idea sparked in both Daring and Phillip’s minds. “Seems to me he’s found a good family here,” Phillip said quietly. 

“Oh, AJ, can we?” Rara asked, her eyes lighting up in joy. 

“Well…” AJ said, rubbing the back of her mane. “I know the two of us were talking about adopting, but…” She looked back and forth between her pouting fiancee and the cooing infant, then let out a resigned sigh as a broad smile crossed her face. “Ah, shucks, you know I can’t say no to that. Guess we’ve got ourselves a kid, sugarcube!” 

“Yay!” Pinkie cheered, flinging confetti over the new family and making silly faces at Endeavor to make him giggle. “Aunt Pinkie’s gonna give you a New Family Party first thing tomorrow!” 

Everypony around chuckled a bit, then Daring started digging into the pie, closing her eyes to enjoy the flavor. As she listened to the quiet chatter around her, she heard Red Herring chuckling as he spoke to Honeydew, Lion, and Lug Wrench. 

“So yeah, it turned out that Trace couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if he tried,” Red chuckled into his drink. “Didn’t stop him from singing his heart out on Piano Mare at karaoke.” 

The chuckles faded away into awkward silence, smiles fading and postures slumping as gazes lowered, as if searching for something in their drinks. Daring slowly panned her gaze across the room, identifying several ponies from the funeral sitting close to one another. She listened to the rhythm of the conversation, the awkward starts like sputtering engines, followed by silences that ponies attempted to fill with bites and sips. 

She looked up at the stage in the back, occupied only by a microphone stand and piano, and once again, an idea floated across her mind. She took a contemplative bite of pie, then shrugged. “Fuck it,” she muttered. 

Daring whispered a request into Rara’s ear. The younger mare blinked at her, then smiled and nodded, passing Endeavor to Applejack. Rara and Daring then climbed up onto the stage. Rara took her seat at the piano as Daring tapped the microphone. The feedback squealed out across the room, drawing every head. 

Daring took a deep breath, then glanced over at Rara. Rara smiled and nodded and began playing a piano intro. Daring waited, then at the cue, took in a breath. 

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday,” she sang into the microphone, hoping that nopony would see her wings fluttering nervously. “Regular crowd shuffles in...there’s an old mare sittin’ next to me, making love to her tonic and gin…”

She paused to take a few breaths, staring back at everypony. Confusion was plastered across their faces, though a few countenances were slowly melting away into smiles. Steamed Carrot had poked her head out from the kitchen to listen, eyes wide in surprise and happiness. 

“She said, ‘Friend, can you play a memory?’” two voices sang out, and Daring looked over with relief as Pinkie Pie climbed up onto the stage and joined into the song, her encouraging smile glowing. “‘I’m not really sure how it goes, but it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger mare’s clothes.’”

More voices joined them, Phillip shrugging as he climbed up onto the stage, followed by Twilight, Flash, Spike, Rainbow Dash, and Pastor Sound. Harmonicas began to harmonize with their voices, and Daring saw that Red and Muziqaa had both pulled out the small instruments and were playing along. 

Mortis started singing along, with Eagle blushing as he joined in with the rest of his squad. The Outbackers raised their voices into the chorus as Giana started performing percussion on the table. Hewn Oak began to conduct the impromptu concert, his own voice distinctly off-key. Cold Case looked at the singing officers, Wonderbolts, and Guards around her, then shrugged and started singing as well, a few beats behind everypony else.  

All of them sang through the entire song, some of them stumbling over words or lagging behind the others, a number off-key and out of harmony with the main group, but none of them caring. For a while, there was nothing in the world but each other and this moment, their voices singing and laughing even as tears ran down their faces. 

When the song finally ended, everypony in the room reached out to hug those next to them, smiles and tears coming in equal measure. Daring wrapped a wing around Rainbow Dash and squeezed her to her side for a moment, then turned to Phillip. 

His eyes were damp, but the smile on his face was as warm as a sunset. He pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back, the embrace tasting of salt and peach pie, wishing this moment would never end. 

Trace and Mavri were still dead, resting alongside many more brave and innocent ponies. Sparks and Scarlet were awaiting sentencing. Nothing they could do would change that. 

Nopony in that room, at the moment, wasn’t hurt. 

But they would heal.