//------------------------------// // Did That Just Happen? // Story: Ernest Saves Equestria // by Emerald Harp //------------------------------// The troll smiled ruthlessly, its hands wrapped around the neck of a pony. The armored pegasus from the Crystal Empire tried to strike at the troll with a milk-drenched sword in its mouth. The warrior never got the chance. The pony froze, shrank, and fell to the ground. Its soul encased in a shell of lumber. The winged troll did not have long to savor its victory. A sharp gust of wind whizzed past his ear followed by a loud bang. Every troll that was flying above Ponyville was painfully aware that only one thing was capable of making that noise of death. The troll winced and dove straight down, only beating his wings to avoid crashing into the ruined houses of the town. Taking refuge in an abandoned alley between some residential buildings, the troll landed and caught his breath. All around him were puddles of goo that were once living and breathing trolls. Hearing the familiar wing beats of his kin the, troll looked up to see the remains of his squad making landfall around him. Before the battle for this town had started, he had commanded a group of twenty winged trolls. Now it was just himself and seven others. One of his fliers chuckled mirthlessly. “Hsarc, you lucky bastard. I’ve never seen Worrell’s machine miss once.” Another troll closed his eyes and slumped against a wall of a collapsed hovel, his wings folding behind his back. He sighed, “That machine probably can’t see straight anymore. We did some serious damage to it when we dove straight down on them.” Hsarc nodded. His squad had done the impossible and had temporarily breached the contraption’s defenses. The aerial trolls had flown high above the tall building and had plummeted straight down, using the structure's roof as a shield to screen their approach. The trolls had torn through the ceiling like falling meteors. Hsarc could still feel the broken bones in his face mending from the impact. However, the plan had worked. But that was when the initial hope of victory started to dim. Having no idea how the troll killing machine worked, his flyers had tried to destroy anything they could sink their weapons into. He remembered swinging his hatchet at a box with an eye in its center mounted to a pillar. It gave a satisfying crunch under the force of his ax. In all honesty the whole encounter was a blur of magic, weapons, and dying trolls. He did remember seeing the traitor Rotnart in the melee along with that damned human, Ernest P. Worrell. And another orange pony was there with them. It was strange. He knew that Rotnart had taken several blows with knives and swords from his trolls. The traitor was made of tough stuff though and had weathered the storm of blades. But Ernest . . . no troll could touch him. He dodged and weaved through his troops like a possessed marionette. And that pony that was with them had proved to be a powerful spell slinger in her own right. The unicorn had doused her horn in powdered milk and then sent a turquoise wave of energy that pushed through his soldiers like a hot knife through butter. His flyers could withstand magic, but magic coupled with milk was beyond deadly. She alone had killed over a quarter of his troops. The last straw came when the Crystal Pegasi had noticed his daring attack and had charged into the fray with milk tipped spears and swords. He should be thankful to have gotten out of there with his life. Hsarc looked at the remnants of his flyers and brought a gloved fist down against his leather armored thigh in frustration. They were so close; they were a foal’s breath away from taking the high ground away from these accursed ponies. But before he could give voice to his frustration, a dull pain quickly formed behind his eyes. The pressure was firm but familiar. Before and since King Sombra had yoked the ice trolls to his dark cause, the mighty race had communicated with each other via magic through looking glasses. Hsarc reached down into his trousers and produced a little metal box that he had looted from a boutique in town. Hsarc pushed a small clasp on the side of the box to reveal a small mirror. He looked into the mirror and instead of seeing his own reflection, he saw the face of one of Iarumas’s lieutenants. The image growled at him. “Hsarc. This is General Walc. I’ll cut to the chase. As of this moment you are the only living officer of the bat trolls over the Ponyville skies. Our lord-avatar Iarumas, has engaged the dark opossum named Luna, the one who had hunted our ancestors for sport a thousand years ago. Unfortunately, he has been put into a deep sleep under Worrell’s weapon and our ground forces can’t extract him without getting killed. We cannot allow our enemies to inflict love on our leader. If he is assassinated before he can bathe this town in black fire then . . . things become harder.” The news struck Hsarc like a bolt of lighting out of the blue. He was the only surviving officer of the bat trolls? “You are now in charge of all flyers in the Ponville sector. I saw what you did earlier, pulling that stunt at City Hall. Your orders are to do it again, except with all the flyers you can get your claws on. I am sending you our winged reserves from the Tree of Harmony. You are to rendezvous with your force at the Zebra’s hut. Our spell slingers will buy you some time to get organized. They should also be able to cloak your strikeforce until you get close enough to attack. I expect you and yours to be in the air as soon as possible. Take the high ground or die trying.” ************************************************************************************ “Can y’all hear anything?” Apple Bloom asked quietly. A chorus of, “Nopes, nos, nuh uhs,” and one low “woof,” answered her. “I think the fighting has stopped again,” Scootaloo ventured. “Aye,” agreed Pip. “If you listen real close, you can hear Ernest talking.” The younglings paused and listened. “I don’t hear anything,” complained Diamond Tiara. “And for the record, we could have picked literally anywhere else to hide from the trolls besides a bathroom.” Sweetie Belle shushed the complaining pony to silence. “What’s he saying, Pip?” In a surprisingly convincing imitation of the Redneck, Pip replied, “Golly Bob Howdy, It’s slicker than a greased eel up here.” Apple Bloom chuckled at that. “Wait. Somepony else is talking. It’s a colt. He’s saying, ‘After them. Don’t let them escape,’” said Pip. “I think that must have been one of those royal guard blokes.” “Well, maybe,” Scootaloo replied with uncertainty. “Remember, those monsters can change and throw their voices. We don’t know who's up there. The trolls might be trying to lure us out.” “Okay. Somepony else has spoken up. I think it’s Sunset Shimmer.” In the candle light the four other fillies and Rimshot watched Pip’s face grow more and more downcast. “Well? What’s she saying?” asked Diamond Tiara. “It’s not good. Princess Luna is battling that huge troll in the dream realm. And there’s not a lot of time left. If the Elements of Harmony don’t get here soon, there won’t be a Ponyville left to save.” The group grew really quiet once Pip relayed the news. “Is there anything we can do that could help?” asked Apple Bloom. Silence reigned for several moments before a sharp intake of breath from Scootaloo got everypony’s attention. “I got it.” “Got what? You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Sweetie Belle said breathlessly. “We could make a love poison.” Diamond Tiara frowned. “What’s that? It sounds like something out of Silver Spoon’s romance novels.” “Wellllll.” Apple Bloom dragged the word out a lot longer than necessary before continuing. “A few years ago we were trying to get Miss Cheerilee a date for Hearts and Hooves Day. We decided to match her with my brother. But the problem is those two would never ask each other out on a date especially on Hearts and Hooves Day, so we found this recipe in one of Twilight’s books and . . .” “Let me guess. You drugged the two of them so that they would fall in love? That’s actually brilliant. Think of all the homework we could have gotten out of,” the impatient filly said enthusiastically. “So what do we need?” asked Pipsqueak. The Crusaders paused and looked at each other in confusion. “Do you two remember how that rhyme for the recipe goes?” Apple Bloom asked. “Because I sure don’t.” “Uhhhh, I think it’s something like . . . Take a tuft of a cloud . . .” Scootaloo started to say but trailed off. “Oh, and a bright Rainbow’s glow,” continued Sweetie Belle. The two fillies brainstormed for a few more moments before Apple Bloom finished the recipe. “Stir it with a pegasus feather, fast not slow.” The three ponies looked at each other and smiled. Diamond Tiara scoffed. “I hate to break it to you fillies, but getting pieces of a cloud and a rainbow in the middle of an invasion is going to be pretty hard.” Pipsqueak shook his head. “Actually, all we have to do is get to the school house. Remember about a week ago Ms. Cherilee brought in those samples from the weather factory for science day? I think they’re still there in the classroom with the other science stuff.” “Alright. We have a plan,” Scootaloo said happily, her wings buzzing in anticipation. “But how do we get out of Fort Botswana without being seen?” asked Sweetie Belle. Diamond Tiara took a deep breath and let out a martyred sigh. “We can use the sewer system underneath City Hall” Applebloom shook her head. “Naw, that won’t work. My sister said that the sewers are still being repaired.” The spoiled filly tilted her head from side to side. “Not exactly. The sewers have been fixed for weeks now. My dad’s been making a lot of bits by having his sewage removal company charge customers to muck out their outhouses. Meanwhile, he’s been paying the boss of the repair crews to not file the paperwork that says the sewers have been repaired. The repair crews are just pretending to work on the sewers.” Scootaloo’s face darkened. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate your dad?” Diamond Tiarra nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty messed up, even for him.” “Okay. If we do this, we should let the others know,” Sweetie Belle said nervously. “If they’re still up there and not turned into dolls.” Rimshot gave out a quiet bark that got the foal’s attention and started scratching at the door. The little ponies looked at each other and slowly opened the door of the bathroom. The beagle padded into the dark and ransacked rooms of City Hall. Under the soft light of Sweetie Belle’s horn, the dog returned with a piece of paper and a pen. Rimshot spent the next minute writing a message in a strange jagged script that no pony could understand. “What’s it doing? That dog’s writing nothing but gibberish,” Diamond Tiara said. Pipsqueak thought for a moment before realization dawned on him. “He’s writing a message to Ernest. Something only he would understand. Aren’t you boy?” Rimshot yipped in affirmative before returning back to his writing. Moments later the message was finished. “Okay. Let’s get the hay out of here. Diamond, lead the way,” commanded Apple Bloom. ************************************************************************************ Sunset Shimmer stared down at Princess Luna from the top floor of City Hall. The unicorn’s vision was tinted with a light bluish hue. A wafer-thin turquoise blanket of magic surrounded the unicorn’s body. The aura shimmered in the sun’s warm light. The blanket had protected her from the worst of the smell and liquified remnants of scores of aerial trolls that had died in droves assaulting Fort Botswana. She felt sorry for Rotnart. The wooden troll had not sought shelter within the deeper levels of the building with the youngsters and Rimshot. The wood-golem was covered from head to toe in deep cuts and melted troll parts. Conversely, Ernest didn’t have a scratch or a drop of troll remains on his person. Not for the first time Sunset wondered how the human generated his own unseen magic. “How is she?” Sunset glanced to her side. Rotnart was leaning over the reinforced railing to get a better look at the alicorn and Iarumas. The pony rubbed her eyes in fatigue. “Not good.” The monster troll was standing just as still as the Princess. However, where one could assume that the troll was having a pleasant nap, the Ruler of the Night was having a terrible Nightmare. Sunset could see the alicorn’s form was slick with sweat pouring from her body. Luna was trembling from the effort of containing the juggernaut within the dreamscape. “I don’t know how much longer she can keep this up,” continued the pony. Rotnart grunted and eyed the area that separated the two slumbering combatants. The remains of trolls and the bodies of Equestrians, both wooden and flesh, surrounded the pair. The two leaders were fighting in a no man’s land between the troll and pony lines. Both forces had tried and failed to rescue their respective leaders and were driven back by the other side by milk, magic, or might. Rotnart sucked on his pine-flavored teeth in thought. “Can you teleport us down there and teleport her back up here?” Rotnart asked. Sunset didn’t answer at first. The orange pony looked behind the sleeping form of Iarumas at the buildings that were still standing near the two sleeping warlords. A score of hateful red eyes could be seen staring up at them from the dark corners of the structures, no doubt waiting and praying for the Equestrians to come and save the Princess or to attack their leader. There was nothing she wanted more than to get Luna out of her current predicament, but she wasn’t even sure if she should. Teleporting the Princess while she was fighting that monster in the dream world . . . what would that do to her? Would that break the dream? Luna was obviously buying time for the Elements of Harmony to get here. And if Sunset woke up Luna and Iarumas too soon, then that would be a disaster. Before Sunset could voice her concerns to her battle-scarred partner, Ernest joined the pair looking over the railing. “Are they still at it? I’ve never seen a staring contest where everyone has their eyes closed. How do you know who wins?” “Oh, Ernest. How’s Willie?” asked Sunset, relieved to not have to answer Rotnart right away. The human paused and thought for a moment, unsure where to begin. “Well, I got good news and bad news. The bad news is we’re almost out of milk, Willie is about out of ammunition, the North, East, and West cameras are ruined which means Willie is blind on those sides, the railing Willie traverses on has been damaged in several places, and the spark battery that powers the rail gun has a coolant leak which means Willie will have to shutdown for a couple of hours real soon or he’ll overheat and self-destruct. But other then those things, he’s fine.” Ernest brightened. “But the good news is so far he’s brought down about four hundred trolls. Which means my boy is in second place for killing the most ugly, putrefied, nasty, smelly tro---.” It was at this time Ernest realized Rotnart was glaring at him. The human winced and laughed nervously. “Eh, heh, heh, heh. How about I check on the Crusaders and RImshot.” Without another word, the troll fighter scurried away, avoiding the large puddles and piles of troll remnants. Sunset Shimmer was horrified. She had known the weapon had taken damage during the last round of fighting, but she hadn’t realized that the A.I. had been that badly hurt. The pony took a breath and fought down a wave of panic. “We have to leave. Now!” she said forcefully. “What?” asked Rotnart. The troll was in the midst of pulling a crossbow bolt out his stomach. “We can’t stay here. Without the rail gun, we can’t hold City Hall. We need to decide right now if we’re going to go down there and rescue the Princess, which I don’t know if we can or should do, or go somewhere else, but we need to decide right now.” With a final heave the wooden troll yanked out the projectile lodged in his wooden guts. “Fine, let's haul ass, and get Luna out of there. I owe her one for not offing me on sight as soon as I un dolled her.” In spite of her reservations, Sunset found herself nodding in agreement with the former king. “Okay. The first thing we need to do is get Willie’s brain box out of that weapon. And then we need to tell the Crystal Guard what we’re doing. I think they can provide a diversion while I move the Princess.” Rotnart frowned. “Do we have any of those guys left?” “As a matter of fact, you do.” Sunset looked up to see seven battered and weary crystal pegasi guards floating overhead. The pegasi with the chevrons on his armor landed in front of the unicorn and removed his plumed helmet. “Sergeant Steel Heart at your service.” The orange unicorn frowned. “Did Captain Bright Eyes return from chasing off the last wave of trolls?” The Sergeant's lips thinned. “He has not. In his and his lieutenant’s absence, I am in charge of providing aerial support to this position. But from what I just heard, that may no longer be the case.” “Hey, I know you,” said Rotnart. “You’re that Son of a Bitch from earlier. Do you still need to keep an eye on us, Sergeant? Are we still a threat?” Sunset held her breath. She had recognized the doubting pegasus, too, but had not planned on saying anything. She could feel the glares of the other airborne ponies. They were not happy about having their commander insulted in front of them. The battered Sergeant turned to regard the battle-scarred wooden troll. “Yes, and probably. Now what do you need from me and my ponies?” With a loud bang the door to the lower levels swung open to reveal a very worried looking Ernest. The Troll Fighter was waving a piece of paper. “Hey! I got some more bad news here.” The Sergeant, Rotnart, and Sunset Shimmer gathered round the human to look at the parchment. “What is this?” asked Rotnart. “That’s not English, or troll, or pony.” “It’s Beagle,” supplied Ernest. “Rimshot left us a message. It says ‘Ernest, me and the gang are going to the Ponyville Schoolhouse for supplies to make a love poison. I’m going with them, so they’re in good paws.’” Love and Face Licks Rimshot “What in Celestia’s name are they thinking?” shouted the unicorn as soon as Ernest was done reading. The feeling of panic she had been fighting back for so long threatened to overwhelm her. “We got to go after them. We . . .” “Negative, civilian. The Schoolhouse is too far behind enemy lines. You’ll be dolled before you even get close,” Sergeant Steel Heart interrupted. Ernest put a reassuring hand on Sunset’s mane. “They’ll be okay, Sunny. If Rimshot is with them I feel sorry for any troll that gets in their way. Why I saw that crazy dog nearly take the leg off of Rotnart’s dad back at the Briarville Elementary School. It was not a pretty sight.” “Hey, Worrell. Quit telling lies and get over here,” Rotnart shouted. “Your thing wants something.” The wooden troll was pointing at the computer monitor. After making his way over to Willy’s interface, Ernest looked down at the computer screen. Willie: Da, I thought I saw something in the skies to the south. Something big. I saw it only for a wee moment heading straight up before disappearing. I’ve been monitoring the civilian radio chatter in town, and I’ve noticed a lack of aerial demon reports. I think the monsters are planning something. Ernest: Okay, thanks Willie. We’ll look into it. Ernest turned to his fellow defenders. “Willie says he thought he saw something south of here. Something big heading straight up. Now Willie did take quite a bit of damage and is in need of a nap, so he might be seeing imaginary gremlins, but I think it might be worth looking into.” The Crystal Guard pony thought for a moment before pointing up at one of his flyers equipped with a radio. “Private Clear Crystal. Get on the horn and request a blanket dispel from Southern Command over their part of the town. If those trolls are doing what I think they’re doing, we’re in for a hard time.” The pony in question landed next to Rotnart and unstrapped the radio from his back. After a few moments the request was given in coded Crystal Empire speech. After about twenty seconds, the few pegasi in the air were grounded and the contrails of dozens of spells going off from unicorns all over the southern part of town could be seen from City Hall. Some of the spells went off prematurely somewhere between 20 and 50 feet above the ground, but most continued soaring into the sky, detonating between 200 and 500 feet. Ernest could feel his heart stop beating and his hands become moist with perspiration. Icy fingers of pure terror pulled at his stomach as he gazed up through the holes made by the trolls of the previous attack. Hundreds of armed trolls were flying straight down towards him. Once again the defending pegasi rose to meet the oncoming threat. Sergeant Steel Heart roared, “For the Empire,” before leading his reduced command to certain doom. The battle cry snapped Ernest out of his frozen state. Without thinking or acknowledging Willie’s frantic messages, the Redneck’s hands flew across the keyboard issuing ejection commands to decouple Willie’s black box from the rail gun’s interface. Willie’s Revenge thrashed and bucked as it tried to angle itself to fire upon the descending trolls in spite of the damage it had sustained. But Ernest overrode Willie’s attempts to keep fighting. In a Texas accent the Troll Fighter said, “Take it easy, son. You’ve done your pa proud.” Ernest muttered as he continued to type in commands. From behind him he heard Rotnart yell, “Get the Princess out of there!” Moments later the human felt the rush of air occupying the space where Sunset Shimmer once stood. No sooner had he acknowledged the orange pony's exit, than a large wet chunk of troll fell on his hands and keyboard. Ernest’s lips and mouth worked back and forth in disgust. “Ewwwwheewwwww.” Using his slime covered fingers, he wretched Willie’s box out of the housing of the machine. The next thing the Troll Fighter felt was a pair of enormous splintery troll hands grabbing his denim vest and yanking him out of his chair. What was left of a melting bat-troll torso smashed through the chair and straight down through the multiple floors that made up Fort Botswana. Ernest’s mouth hung open in surprise as he looked into Rotnart’s eyes and then straight up from where the raining body parts were coming from and then back at Rotnart. “Did . . . Did that just happen? Did you just . . .” For the first time in a very long time Ernest P. Worrell was at a loss for words. Rotnart was just as shocked as the human as the repercussions of what had just occurred sank in. He was silent for a few heartbeats before looking down at his hands and replying, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” Ernest nodded. “I owe you a bag of fertilizer when all this is over. Now come on. Let’s get out of here and find Sunny.” Rotnart didn’t have time to reply. From seemingly out of nowhere a speeding bat troll flew through the damaged support beams of City Hall and grabbed The Great Redneck Hope with its clawed feet. “WHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa,” Ernest’s scream diminished as he and his kidnapper flew up and away from Fort Botswana. A dark black cube clattered to the floor. The wooden golem scooped up the cube just before two more fast-moving flying trolls reached him. However, unlike Worrell, Rotnart was prepared. The wooden troll met the first flier with a massive right hook. Rotnart felt every bone in the troll’s face break underneath his wooden fist. The writhing troll went flying back the way it came, nearly colliding with its wing mate. The second flier spread out its wings to try and halt its momentum, not wanting to engage the wooden fighter. Unfortunately, the bat troll was too close to the building. Rotnart grinned and charged forward, sprinting and leaping off the balcony of Fort Botswana and onto the back of the bat troll. Both combatants fell to the ground into the midst of another fight.