//------------------------------//
// Act IV: Chapter Thirty-Two: Under the Setting Sun 
// Story: Innocent 
// by Puzzle Piece 
//------------------------------//

When Twilight led Pinkie away to tend to her, Zacon sought seclusion. He walked without any thought to where he was going, letting his hooves find their way one step at a time. But despite their separation, the pink pony would not leave his thoughts. He’d never encountered any creature as whimsical and naïve before. And so too, he had never witnessed anyone enduring such a trauma as Pinkie had when she realized what she had done. And, he was quite certain of it, she hadn’t known what she was doing until Twilight had broken through her willful ignorance. She had lived in the same sheltered and peaceful world as the rest of these ponies, but she had internalized that purity to an infinitely greater degree. When she could no longer deny the reality of the violence around her, her mind had rationalized it in the only way it could to maintain the construct of her peaceful perception of her world. And thus her normally manic, yet playful, energy had translated to wanton butchery.
How did she see the world if she was so blind to it? he asked himself. What world is this that she could be so…so…
So innocent, the thought completed itself, sounding far too similar to Jason’s voice for Zacon’s liking. He shook himself as if to physically be rid of the discomfort. He recalled how harshly he’d treated the ponies he’d met around this town, especially her. Were they not simply enjoying an unprecedented peace? Had they not been raised in a world that could hardly be called mildly threatening in comparison to the dangers of his home? Until now, they had no experience with war and no reason to believe they would. Was it not the true goal of warriors such as himself to preserve a peace even half as pure as this world had known? Did he not want his people to one day live without the fear of war?
Zacon glanced around for the first time and realized he’d reached the library that Twilight called home. It was where he had hoped to return to his own world. It was now battered and empty. Zacon contemplated it with a deepening frown. They had failed to prepare for war, to defend their peace. Their homes burned because this war had caught them by surprise. And yet…
He turned around and walked toward the town square. It was exactly as he had said; that they would suffer for their complacency and lack of foresight. But something he had not predicted had also come to pass. They had risen against it, faced it with a courage he could not dismiss, and proven their strength far exceeded his first estimates. The closer he came to town square, the more evident it became. Ponies in battle-worn armor trotted about, attending to the task of reclaiming this town, eyes hard-set against the pain, weariness and grief. The line of bodies came into view and Zacon stopped where he was.
He stared at them for a minute, not quite sure of what he was looking at. One hundred ten he counted; a neat line of white cloths covering the dead. But he noticed armor plates poking out from under those nearest him and the more he looked, the more he became convinced they were all likewise equipped. Without looking away, he addressed a nearby sergeant.
“Who are these casualties? Civilians caught in the fighting?”
Sergeant Clear Waters shook his head slowly. “Not exactly sir. They’re mostly self-trained militia volunteers from the town. I believe nearly all of the civilians escaped before the fighting.”
“What do you mean by self-trained?” Zacon asked.
“It means one of our own taught us everything we know,” said another voice.
One of the Ponyville volunteers had been standing nearby and overheard. The dull orange Earth Pony stallion sauntered over and introduced himself as Jim Beam.
“A farmer from south of here,” Jim said, gesturing behind him. “She drilled and instructed us and tried to prepare us for…” He trailed off and looked around at the town. When he continued, it was in a much more subdued tone. “Well, for all of this.”
“A farmer from the south you say?” Zacon nodded slowly, careful not to let his expression change. “How interesting.”
“Yep,” Jim said with a bit of his energy returning. “Our very own Applejack. Truth be told, some of us had been prepared to join the Army. But when we saw the smoke from Canterlot, we’d been on the verge of calling quits. That’s when she came along and convinced us to keep at it; made it an order, just about.”
With his suspicions confirmed, Zacon allowed himself a small smile of pride as he replied.
“You’ve made an adequate account for yourself, especially with your limited time to prepare. Be proud of your efforts here.” He looked at the casualties again, his smile fading. “At a cost, you have proven you have the heart to defend your homes. I am honored to raise my blade with you.”
Jim glanced at the bodies and looked away quickly. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds before Jim excused himself to return to his tasks. Sergeant Clear Waters excused himself as well, leaving Zacon alone with his thoughts again. He knew now that he would have to reconsider his stance on Equestria altogether. They had suffered enough to pay for their foolishness and it was no longer amusing to see himself proven right. The time had come for him to devote himself to this fight for the sake of the lives at stake and not simply for the glory of battle or the few brave enough to stand with him. He took a deep breath as he let that decision sink in.
As he did, the line of the dead drew his eye differently. Applejack had trained them and led them in battle; his own student had inspired them to hold this town in the face of an overwhelming enemy. They had died believing in her word that they could succeed. In the end, they had succeeded. Applejack had made him proud, just as she’d said she would. In fact, he might have admitted it if he’d been asked. But as he turned farther down the line, he saw something that froze that pride in his chest.

	~*~*~

Big Mac sat next to his sisters. One pressed up close to him and he wrapped his hoof around her shaking shoulders. But the other lay still and silent, the blood dried and browning where it stained her coat. Big Mac pushed a strand of blonde mane out of Applejack’s face idly. He couldn’t quite believe she was gone. It wasn’t right. How could this have happened? He’d left to save his home and it had been attacked anyway. He’d been here, had held her only hours prior, and still she had died. All the fighting he’d been through; all the ponies that had died to keep the danger at bay; it hadn’t been enough to save her. It just didn’t make sense to him.
He looked up when he heard a pony approach. Zacon stopped behind him, jaw locked and eyes focused on Applejack’s body.
“Lieutenant,” Big Mac acknowledged, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Zacon might have nodded imperceptibly. He might have allowed his gaze to flicker away from Applejack briefly in recognition, but Big Mac wasn’t sure. He didn’t even seem to be blinking. Big Mac waited another moment before speaking again, unable to keep his doubts quiet any longer.
“How could this have happened, sir?”
Zacon finally turned to look at him, his expression as carefully neutral as ever, but he remained silent.
“Was it somethin’ we missed? Or were we just too slow to make a difference?” Big Mac waited a moment for a response, but none seemed forthcoming. He looked down at Apple Bloom, who had hidden her face to conceal her tears, and sighed. “I guess knowin’ what could have happened won’t change anythin’ now. But it’s so unfair. We were winnin’, weren’t we? We had beaten them before. And now they’ve…she’s…”
Big Mac stopped speaking to try to get himself under control. When he looked back to Zacon, he found the Lieutenant’s expression had not changed. The apparent lack of empathy had always been plain, but now it cut with a cruel sting in the face of his grief. And with a second Lieutenant refusing to give him an answer, he’d had enough. Big Mac wiped the tears from his eyes, stood up and rounded on the Lieutenant angrily.
“You ain’t gonna say nothin’ either? I guess I should be thankful you ain’t laughin’ at me. The way you talk about battle, I might think you enjoy watchin’ us fight and die around you. So go on! Say it! Tell me how I’m weak! How I’m not a proper soldier because I’m c-cryin’ over my own s-sister’s body.”
Big Mac choked on his words and wiped his eyes. When he looked again, Zacon had stepped forward and knelt beside Applejack’s body. He leaned close to her ear and whispered in his language.
“Luvim Vit Esun Ja-Ak-Natheeri, Holn Y’jeed.”
Big Mac watched, perplexed, as Zacon finally let some emotion show on his face. The tightening of his jaw and the furrowing of his brow; such a subtle change, but it spoke volumes of what lay hidden beneath. When the Lieutenant stood again, he was stone-faced once more. He met Big Mac’s gaze for a moment, glanced at Apple Bloom and walked away, having said nothing to the living the whole time.

	~*~*~

It took Zacon several minutes to find Cor, but he eventually found him in a secluded corner of the town hall. The archer barely acknowledged the other’s presence. Zacon stood beside him, letting the silence linger for a moment. When he broke it, however, Cor still flinched.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
The tone of the question left little room for refusal, and Cor nodded with a thick swallow. As he related the events leading up to Applejack’s death, he had to stop occasionally. It was only with a great effort that he could describe his failed attempt to bind her wounds.
“So Jason went after the remaining Trolls and we took her body back,” he concluded with a shaking breath.
“Corporal McIntosh is upset that you did not share this with him,” Zacon rumbled.
“You know why this is hard for me to say!” Cor snapped.
“I know why,” Zacon replied, unfazed. “But he does not. She was his sister. He deserves this much at least.”
Cor looked at him in surprise but couldn’t manage a reply. Instead, after thinking it over, he nodded, got up and walked back outside. As Zacon followed behind him, he noted that the group around Applejack’s body had grown. Twilight and Rainbow Dash were holding each other, the latter weeping openly while the former looked as if she were holding back tears as hard as she was holding her friend. The three fillies that made up the Cutie Mark Crusaders were leaning on each other in a small huddle, silent. Rarity stood with Big Mac, who had seated himself forlornly once more. The two Lieutenants made their way over and Zacon could see Cor’s expression sour further with each step. Obviously, he was not looking forward to having such an audience for this conversation. As they drew closer, they could hear the others talking in low tones.
“I don’t like to think how Fluttershy will react when she finds out,” Rarity said, turning to Twilight. When Twilight didn’t reply she went on. “Or Pinkie Pie for that matter. Where is she by the way?”
“Don’t tell her,” Twilight said, looking up at last. “Not yet at least. She’s…not ready to hear this.”
“None of us were, darling,” Rarity returned.
As she was turning away, she spotted Cor and Zacon. She struggled between a pleasant greeting and a solemn one before settling on a faint smile that faded again quickly. Cor announced himself with a similarly lackluster effort, his mumbled words unintelligible to anyone, including Zacon. Still, the others took notice and turned their attention to him. He glanced at them all ruefully and then addressed Big Mac, who had fixed him with an unreadable, unblinking stare.
“You asked me how this happened. If you still want to know, I-I’ll…” He paused to gulp down the hitch in his voice. “I’ll tell you.”
There was no response for several seconds. Then, almost imperceptibly, Big Mac nodded. The rest were silent as Cor recounted the event. His tone was low and controlled, and his gaze was fixed forcefully on Big Mac, as if afraid that he might not be able to go on if he lost that focus for one moment. He described Applejack’s insistence on going in search of Apple Bloom, with or without help. He mentioned Ditzy joining them as they began tracking Apple Bloom south. He told of finding her deep in the orchards and turning back toward town. His face tightened against the memory as he described the ambush and the desperate flight among the trees. Every detail, every turn and draw, shot and swing, he meticulously included. He was able to tell of Applejack’s injury and Jason’s arrival, but when it came to her final words, Cor could speak no more. Big Mac appeared unmoved, his glowering gaze still boring down on the archer as seconds passed.
The first to break the silence was Apple Bloom.
“They were only out there ‘cause of me,” she said in a tiny voice. “I was supposed to leave town with the others, only I didn’t. It’s my fault, really.”
“No darling. It’s not your fault,” Rarity said, gently.
“It is so!” Apple Bloom replied, jumping up and shouting. “If I’d done as I was told, she wouldn’t have had to come lookin’ for me. She wouldn’t have been out there! She would still be alive!”
“If the Trolls had never attacked, she’d be alive!” Rainbow interjected suddenly. She gave a growl of anger as she went on. “If anyone is to blame, it’s not any of us. It’s them!”
“Please, Rainbow!” Twilight broke in. “It’s bad enough that we have to kill to defend ourselves. If we turn to anger and hatred, we’ll be no better than the Trolls.”
“Are you defending them?” Rainbow balked. “You’re actually saying we shouldn’t hate them? They’re the enemy! You know, the ones killing us? Killing our friends!?”
Twilight shrank back from Rainbow’s outburst.
“I’m not defending the Trolls,” Twilight said quietly. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Me? From what?” Rainbow asked, taken aback.
“From blind violence,” she said simply.
Rainbow had no response. She sat down, and stared at the ground, trying to work it all through in her head. The others glanced about awkwardly, hoping someone else would change the subject. In the end, it was Big Mac who did so, breaking his long silence.
“I suppose bein’ cross with you ain’t right,” he said, indicating Cor. “Sounds like you did what you could. It’s just hard to accept. I hope you can try to understand.”
“I do understand,” Cor said darkly. “I know the anger and the helplessness and the need to take it out on something. I know what it’s like to lose my sister to…” He had to stop speaking as he bit back a word that was dripping with hatred. When he finished the sentence, it was through gritted teeth. “Enemies.”
“Your sister was killed in a war?” Twilight asked, aghast.
“No,” Cor said, scowling at the thought. “She was killed to start a war. And her killer did it right in front of me. He looked me in the eye and laughed. There wasn’t anything I could do except kill the underlings he left in my way as he escaped. Not all the powers of my people could save her from the cursed wound he’d inflicted. My failure that day is a torment that won’t fade, even all these years later. And I felt that same pain again when I lost Applejack.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Right in front of me. Because I was too weak, I let her slip away. I failed you.”
Cor swallowed hard and wiped his eyes. Big Mac stepped forward and put his hoof on Cor’s shoulder.
“Don’t blame yourself. There ain’t nothin’ good to gain from that. We’ve got to…” He stopped, mustering the will to say the words. “To keep movin’ forward. This ain’t over and we need to see it through…For the ones that are left.”
He stepped away, settling back down at Applejack’s side. Apple Bloom joined him and they leaned against each other. Cor nodded, more to himself than anything else, and paced a short distance away. Zacon decided to leave him be for now. Through the whole exchange, he had allowed himself to be sidelined and was satisfied with the results. But Big Mac had been right; they would need to find a way to move forward. And that would take preparations, something all of this talking certainly wasn’t accomplishing. The sun was sinking toward the horizon and there was much left to do before nightfall.
Zacon slipped away from the group of mourners and raised his voice to address the town square at large. “I need volunteers to stand watch tonight. The rest of you; be ready for tomorrow and whatever it might bring.”

	~*~*~

Lyra stirred awake from the half-doze she’d fallen into. It wasn’t obvious at first what had disturbed her until she noticed the absence at her side. It was dark in the bedroom of the cottage on the north side of town. The sun had set long ago and the only light came through the west window from the remains of the block that had been left to burn. Even hours later, the glow illuminated the great plume of smoke that rose over the town, where a few buildings had not yet succumbed to the consuming inferno. In that amber glow, Lyra could see that Bon Bon was donning her armor again, being as quiet as she could. She noticed Lyra looking across the room at her and stopped. Lyra shifted in the bed so that she was upright when she spoke.
“Whereareyougoing?” she mumbled groggily.
“I’ve got to take my shift at watch,” Bon Bon said as she stepped close, making a gentle shushing sound. “You stay and get some more sleep.”
Lyra reached up to caress her check and Bon Bon leaned forward to give her one last kiss before she put her helmet on and was gone. Lyra laid back again, the softness of the bed a siren song that called to her still drowsy mind. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all. But with Bon Bon lying beside her, feeling the warmth of her pressed close, she’d felt the tension of the last few weeks slip away and a tiredness she didn’t know she’d suppressed take hold.
A few weeks. Had it really been so short a time?
She tried to count back the days and found she could not. It was a blur to her; days and nights of fighting without a clear distinction between them. The night was as much a battleground as any day had been and too little rest was found in either. Now that she was in the comfort of her own bed and with no immediate danger closing in around her, she was strangely restless, as if sleep was foreign to her. The lack of danger seemed wrong. She felt that if there was no sign of the enemy or a clear objective to pursue, she was somehow out of place. It made her skin crawl under her coat and compelled her to do something, anything to keep that feeling at bay. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sensation.
No, she said to herself. This is the time to relax. This is my home. It’s safe here.
But the feeling only persisted, provoking a flash in her mind of fragmented images from the fighting in the woods. The streets as she’d returned to Ponyville had been the scene of devastation, just as Canterlot’s had before them. With a chill of foreboding, she realized that the battle may have been over but the danger still lurked nearby. She would soon be leaving to fight again. Even now, Bon Bon was out there, standing watch in case of another attack. She imagined her near the edge of town, staring out into the woods to the west and the trampled fields where the Trolls had retreated. They could come again at any time and Bon Bon would be at the front of the fighting.
Then, as clearly as if she was still standing in those woods on that moonlit night, she could see the looming figure of that blue-tinted Troll. But it was not Lyra herself who faced him. Instead, it was Bon Bon that stood alone against him. He held his spear menacingly in one hand with an axe in the other. His eyes glinted with malice as he smiled down at her. Lyra was paralyzed with dread, unable to call out a warning to this vision that seemed too real to be imagined. She tried to will herself forward, to do anything to help, but the image changed before she could take a single step. 
Bon Bon was running now. The night’s shadows closed in on her and Trolls followed close behind. She called out to them, encouraging their pursuit to give the other ponies a chance to escape, but she was growing tired. At any moment she could falter and the Trolls would have her. But a new scene materialized and Bon Bon was at the front of the fighting at the river. Trolls surged out of the water only to be thrown back by the spears and swords of the defenders. But with each charge, there were more Trolls and fewer ponies until it seemed Bon Bon stood alone against a titanic wall of Trolls that towered over her, poised to fall and crush her beneath their sheer numbers.
Abruptly, Lyra found herself running through the streets of Canterlot. Somehow, none of the sudden changes in her surroundings seemed as important as the reason she ran now. The frantic urgency of it gripped her mind, though she couldn’t seem to remember the specific destination. There wasn’t a single pony in sight and there was no sound, not even from her own hooves on the cobblestones. An impossible number of streets came and went and still she ran. She despaired that she would ever reach the end but at last the buildings fell away and the fields opened up to her with the rows upon rows of orderly tents that made up the Army’s camp.
Her goal became clear like a key clicking into place. She raced for the medical tents as fast as her hooves could carry her. She burst through the canvas flaps, her magic flaring for the fight. But it wasn’t Goldengrape she found pinned under the bluish Troll; it was Bon Bon. Her eyes shone with the same rekindled hope, but just as Lyra feared it would, the Troll’s spear plunged downward to extinguish it.

	~*~*~

She woke with a gasp and sat bolt upright so fast that she almost blacked out from lightheadedness. She clenched her eyes tightly against both the dizziness and the sickening panic.
A dream, she told herself. Only a dream.
Fragmented memories of her previous perils, warped together with her new fear for Bon Bon’s safety; they were so fresh in her mind that she couldn’t shake them off, even with her waking mind fully aware that they had not happened this way. She had made it through so many battles, cheated death where others had not, and still she could not see the end of this war. But she didn’t mind the imminent danger to herself so much as she was tormented by the thought of Bon Bon sharing it.
A glance out the window told her dawn was breaking over the town. She let out a sigh and got out of bed. She wasn’t about to find any more rest now. As she slipped back into her armor, she felt a certain amount of comfort return with the familiar weight. She paused at her front door and breathed deeply of the morning air. A tang of smoke from the waning fires wafted subtly under the crisp coolness. Lyra trotted toward town hall, listening to the silence. It would have been a peaceful silence if she were not so acutely aware of the absence of the town’s usual bustle, even this early. The emptiness echoed the feeling inside her when she thought of this whole war.
She shook herself, trying to throw off that melancholy. Instead, she focused on her memories of how her home used to feel. She smiled, though sadly, and focused her resolve on seeing it restored. The end of the war couldn’t come soon enough but she was determined to see to it those memories weren’t all that was left of this town. She hoped one of the officers was around. She was anxious to get back to work. When she arrived in the town square, she found only three ponies. At the long line of shrouded dead, Big Mac sat beside Applejack’s body, unmoved and apparently dozing off on his vigil. Beside him, curled up under a blanket, Apple Bloom slept. Cor sat apart from them, making arrows from a box of materials. He kept watch over the other two with occasional glances, but otherwise did not break his intense concentration on his task. Lyra seated herself beside him cautiously.
“Lieutenant,” she greeted.
He gave her a nod in response.
“What’s happened since yesterday? Any news?” she asked.
“Not much,” he said gruffly. “The Air Corps left to rejoin the main body of the Army in the north. They waited until after nightfall so the enemy wouldn’t see them go and think we were vulnerable to a second attack. They took our liaison, Private Trottow, with them to handle the official report. Other than that, Zacon is out west with a few from Second Squad. They’re…retrieving the ones we lost on the way here. They’ll be back some time tomorrow. Everyone else is either still sorting through the mess here or taking a much needed rest.”
Lyra nodded and watched Cor work for a moment. A thought occurred to her and she gestured at the materials he was using.
“I didn’t know the blacksmith was back to work already. What did you bribe him to finish your order first,” she teased.
“He isn’t back,” Cor replied dully. “These were prepared before the battle.”
“Not even going to humor me for the sake of lightening the mood, huh?” she asked sullenly.
He gestured at the mourning siblings sitting across from them. “If I thought a few jokes might lighten this mood, I would. But it won’t.”
Her ears dropped and she heaved a sigh. “So, where’s Lieutenant Faircastle?”
Cor shrugged. “He went after some of the Trolls. He’ll be back when he decides he’s done with them.”
“He’s out there by himself, and you’re not worried?” she asked.
“No,” Cor began, but stopped himself. “Not yet anyway. If anyone can take care of himself, it’s Jason.”
Despite his words, Cor looked troubled now and he stopped working on his arrows as he thought it over.
“Well, when he does get back, I want to be ready for whatever is next.”
Cor didn’t acknowledge her. She frowned at him and then at the Apples.
“And that means getting all of you ready,” she said under her breath as she got up and approached Big Mac. “Starting with you.”
Big Mac grunted as he shook himself awake at the sound of her approach. He glanced at her and looked away.
“Do you mind if I say goodbye?” she asked, her voice low but firm.
He seemed surprised at first, but nodded for her to go on. Lyra knelt down and put a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. With a shaky breath, she began to whisper a few words. But something caught her eye and stopped her cold. Protruding from under her right shoulder was the broken haft of a Troll’s spear. Every muscle in her body tensed up as her eyes traveled along the length.
“Big Mac?” she said in a voice stretched taut with alarm.
Her sudden change of tone brought both Big Mac and Cor to their hooves and to her side.
“What’s the matter?” Big Mac asked, looking for the cause of her distress.
“This spear,” she said, her voice quivering as she gingerly extracted it. “I know this spear.”
Big Mac had to look away as a bit of congealed blood oozed out with the spearhead. He exchanged a glance with Cor.
“How can you be sure?” Cor asked.
“The curve of it, the serrated edge on the back of the head; I’ve seen it before.”
“There are a lot of Troll spears out there,” Big Mac rumbled cautiously.
“No!” Lyra said. “It’s the same spear! I know it.”
Before Big Mac could reply, Lyra rounded on Cor.
“You saw it all, didn’t you? When she was killed? Who had this spear? What did the Troll look like?”
Cor shook his head. “I didn’t see much. The spear was thrown by a Troll in the back of their group. Just a blur, really, with how fast it all happened.”
“Nothing? His height, his build, the tint of his fur even?”
“No, just…” Cor stopped as something occurred to him. “Wait, the tint of his fur?”
“Was it blue?” Lyra pressed urgently.
“I-it was!” Cor said, surprised.
“Then it was the same Troll that killed Goldengrape in Canterlot,” she said, gritting her teeth in anger. “The same Troll that tracked me down in the forest on our way to Ponyville. You remember that one, Big Mac?”
Big Mac nodded, dumbfounded.
Lyra looked down at the broken weapon grimly. “Then this is his spear. He killed Applejack too.”
None of them said anything for a full minute, each pondering separate thoughts.
“But he’s dead now, right?” Lyra asked, snapping the brittle silence. “You killed the Trolls that did this?”
Cor shook his head. “We killed a lot of them out there but I don’t know if that blue one was among them. If any of us got him, it would have been Jason. He went chasing after the stragglers.”
Lyra caught her breath. “Alone. He’s going to face that Troll on his own!”
“We should go after him,” Big Mac said, suddenly full of energy. He cast about for his weapon but Cor stopped them both from running off.
“There’s no point rushing out there. He’s hours ahead of us and we have no idea where he’ll have gotten to by now. It would be better if we prepared and brought a full team along.”
“He could need us right now!” she pleaded.
“We can’t go chasing him to the ends of Equestria when there are so many ponies right here that need our help,” Cor said, gesturing at the town around them. “Jason was on his own the moment he decided to run off. He’ll have to manage until we’re ready to follow him.”
Lyra swallowed any further retort and nodded. She finished saying her goodbyes to Applejack and Big Mac said a few words as well before he finally looked ready to leave her side. He roused Apple Bloom and led her away to where she could lie down in a real bed. Cor lingered for a moment longer before he too trotted off to the day’s tasks. The town came awake and work continued to clear the rubble and bodies from the streets while a careful watch was maintained. No threats presented themselves and a fragile calm returned. Around noon, something else returned to the town. In twos and threes, the refugees and townsponies that had fled the battle trickled back, at once in awe that the town still stood and appalled by the devastation. Some of the ponies that had graciously hosted refugees were in turn comforted by their guests when they learned that their homes had been consumed by the fires. Others looked through the dead, stopping at faces they recognized.
But all of them, the refugees in particular, had a new resolve about them. They had been put to flight and assumed they would never return, but now that this battle had been won, they could see hope that other towns could be reclaimed. As the sun dipped low in the sky, the smoky haze over the town was beginning to fade and the last of the dead had been moved out of the streets. Just over one hundred forty ponies had died in all, but the number of Trolls that had been slain reached well above two thousand. Those bodies were moved to the west side of town, to be laid in mass graves once the holes had been dug.
Evening was closing in when a great commotion drew the attention of the entire town. Upon a hundred golden chariots that glistened in the setting sun, a grand procession descended into the town square. Lieutenant Cor, the Sergeants of the Vanguard and the towns own officers gathered to meet the new arrivals. Each chariot was drawn by two Pegasi and laden with either crates or ponies that lacked flight. Princess Celestia looked down from the lead chariot at the assembled ponies in the square bowed low.
“Citizens of Ponyville,” she said, her resonant voice holding a soothing softness even as it filled the whole square. “Know that you are not alone. We are here now to help repair the damage caused by this tragedy. I know that the loved ones you have lost cannot be returned to you, but we can carry on bravely in their memory. Because of their sacrifice, we are still here. This war will not be our end!”
As the ponies cheered, Celestia signaled for the supply crates to be offloaded. Food, blankets, medical supplies and construction materials were distributed by the ponies in the chariots. Their steel armor glistened, fresh and unmarked by battle. They stole glances at the surrounding town and the dead who still lay on the other side of the square, their apprehension plainly visible. Still they remained stoically silent as they went about their work. Princess Celestia oversaw them for a minute and then approached the town’s leadership.
“We’ve had no news in Canterlot since my sister sent word that she was beginning the march north to reconnect with the Crystal Empire. What news can you share?” she asked, looking between them.
After glancing at the others and seeing they weren’t jumping at the chance to speak, Mayor Mare decided she would start off.
“Ponies are fleeing devastation in the west, your Highness. And the refugees that have come through our town have expressed dismay at the state of our response. They had expected the Army to escort them to safety and to find ample accommodations waiting for them. I’m sorry to say we’ve been unable to provide enough of either.”
Celestia nodded as the Mayor finished. “While it saddens me, I am not surprised. We were completely unprepared to handle this sudden attack.” Her eyes flickered to Cor as if expecting some comment from him, but he said nothing. She went on hastily. “But we are making strides to turn the situation around. The farther from the front they move, the better we’ll be able to satisfy their needs.”
The Mayor nodded and glanced at Bon Bon. Bon Bon stepped forward and began with a steadying breath.
“The town is in shambles, as you’ve seen, but we’re well on our way to rebuilding now. As for the townsponies, they’re holding on. But they’ve got very little to hold on to. If they face another battle like this one, without an end in sight, it might just do in what resolve they have left.”
Celestia frowned. “They intend to continue fighting?”
“Well, some of them. Many would be glad to never hold a weapon again.” Bon Bon shifted her hooves anxiously. “But yes, a number of volunteers have expressed the intention to keep fighting, myself included.”
“We’ll see to it your recruitment is officially recorded,” Celestia said.
Bon Bon bowed and stepped back. Cor took that as his cue and spoke up.
“The Vanguard moved to reinforce Ponyville separate from the Army after we intercepted an enemy message referring to the planned attack. The Army was able to send the Air Corps to us in time, but without any additional troops in the region for the foreseeable future, our operational potential is limited.” He paused to clear his throat. “Especially with the casualties. Still, we intend to put an advanced watch in place to the west to get an idea of the enemy’s next move.”
“My volunteers can be put to the task of watching the surroundings for enemy activity,” Celestia said, gesturing to the ponies unloading the chariots. “They aren’t trained to fight, but they are active recruits of the Army. They are acting as an auxiliary logistics division, to provide transport for ponies and materials. If your troops can stand ready to meet any threats that come this way, I will ask for volunteers to take up the role of scouts to assist you in detecting them.”
Cor let out a sigh of relief. “That would be most appreciated. Could you have those volunteers meet me at town hall tomorrow afternoon for a briefing on our plan?”
“I will do so,” she nodded. “But what will the Vanguard do until then?”
“Lieutenant Zacon is leading a group to retrieve those who fell outside the town. The rest of us are picking up the pieces here. We’ll do what we can before moving out.”
Celestia’s gaze traveled west, as if looking directly at the dead ponies that lay beyond the town. Her jaw tightened but she made no other reaction.
“Very good,” she said. “We’ll see to it they are properly buried when they return.”
She looked around then, clearly not seeing somepony she was expecting. Cor saw the pony in question approaching anxiously the same moment Celestia picked her out of the crowd that milled about the square. Twilight looked like she was on the verge of tears and Celestia ran to her immediately. The two embraced, with Twilight falling weakly at the Princess’s hooves. Celestia lay down beside her, wrapping a wing around her protectively. Twilight did not cry, but nuzzled close to her mentor, shutting out the rest of the world beyond the other’s embrace.
Cor took that as a sign that the conversation was finished for now. He turned to the others and directed them to assist in distributing the new supplies. The sun dipped below the horizon and the blanket of night’s shadows fell over the town but ponies remained active long into the night.