"I had always believed that Good was strong. But that day in Caen I learned the horrible power that Evil holds. I came to the cold realization that Evil was the stronger, for it would destroy the world rather than meet defeat."
-Private Robert Mueller, British 2nd Army
July 18, 1944
The pitiful remnant of a stone wall was the only thing keeping Rarity alive. She swallowed and tried to shrink into the ground as bullets stitched across it, shaking dust and pebbles onto her cringing form.
I shouldn't be here, she thought, tears springing to her eyes. She wasn't cut out to be a soldier and she knew it. She enlisted along with her friends, filled with righteous fury over the crimes the Germans had committed against helpless ponies. Their training had been slapdash and simple – Equestria was ill-prepared for war, and even Rarity's instructor looked nervous and unsure. As simple as it was, she still barely was accepted.
They all thought it was a grand adventure back then, ‘camping out’ in their barracks, sightseeing in England and meeting their first humans. Most ponies shied away from the bipeds, but Rarity reveled in their attention. Fresh from their farms, American troops would gawk at her, scrambling over themselves to hold open doors and carry her bags. She dined with British officers, graciously accepting many a refined toast. "To Rarity," they said. "A unicorn, and a true lady!"
And now she was pressing herself into the dirt that once gave her so much dismay, eyes clenched closed, wishing with every fiber of her being she was back at Carousel Boutique. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Caen was to have been taken a month ago. They were supposed to be on the easy highway to Berlin and home in time for Winter Wrap Up. Rarity was supposed to have already dined in the finest cafes of Paris, chatting up the local elite. They would fawn over her, and she would raise funds for the Displaced Ponies Program, to help care for the ponies imprisoned by the Reich.
Her eyes snapped open. Those ponies...those pictures…
When the newspapers had published photos of the ponies in ghettoes and work camps, she had bought copies from every single newsstand. She had spent a day and a night just staring at the pictures, trying to comprehend it all. Hours were spent locking eyes with one photo of a unicorn colt peering sadly out from behind bars, a stub where his horn should be. He was no older than Sweetie Belle, and had the same huge eyes…
He's waiting for me. Rarity hurriedly wiped her tears, ignoring the grime streaking her face. They're all waiting for me. For us to come save them.
Still trembling slightly, she raised her head slowly and looked around. About ten meters back crouched Stern Glare, a royal guard assigned to her protection. He was hiding precariously behind a bench, the flimsy wood offering little protection. Stern's face was worried as he looked back at his charge, but crossing the open ground between them would have been suicide.
Despite her newfound resolve, Rarity flinched and flattened again as an engine gunned very close by. A German halftrack – the source of the gunfire – rumbled forward. Its machinegun chattered again, this time aiming for something to the left of Rarity's position. It kept moving as it fired, passing into sight next to her wall. The gunner's head was turned away, continuing to shoot elsewhere.
Rarity held her breath, illogically believing the enemy would hear her breathing over the chatter of his gun. If she held still, maybe they would keep their attention far from her and pass on by…
No. They're waiting for me.
Rarity hadn't actually fought in a battle like this before, and neither had her instructors. Unicorn training basically amounted to "do whatever magic you're best at and put it to military use." Her love of sewing and fashion would hardly impress the Germans, but it did give her an uncanny eye for detail. After a few seconds of studying the halftrack, she swallowed and channeled magic into her horn.
The gunner barely saw the blue glow around his piece before it snapped at the base and jerked out of his hands, bouncing once on the hood of the vehicle before falling to the ground. He looked in the direction it had landed and saw his left wheel and an axle from the tread fly out of their sockets. The halftrack lurched and stopped. Without the sounds of the gun or engine, a strange silence took hold of the area.
The respite barely lasted a second. Guns sounded again, this time friendly soldiers shooting at the damaged vehicle. Encouraged by her success, Rarity braced and tried to flip over the halftrack in one mighty heave of magic. The burst of telekinetic power rocked it, but shifting that much weight was well beyond her ability. After a second of intense straining, she gasped, letting the magic fail.
With a clang, the back hatch opened. German grenadiers hustled out of their crippled vehicle. A few caught her gaze as they crouched around it and leveled rifles at her. Rarity yelped in fear and her horn glowed. The hasty magic did nothing but send a clumsy shockwave at the enemy, but it was enough to throw off their aim and make a few lose their feet. It bought time for Rarity to scramble around to the other side of the wall.
She was sweating and shaking uncontrollably now, and felt like she was going to throw up. Rarity had finally locked eyes with a German soldier and saw nothing but a grim, professional desire to kill her. Her panicked imagination fancied they knew her name and were running up to end her life.
The Germans soon had more pressing issues. A few sprinted away from their halftrack, but were cut down as an odd rat-tat-tat sounded. British machineguns made a different noise than German ones, but killed and terrorized all the same. Most of the grenadiers crouched around their vehicle and tried to return fire, but were outmatched without their own heavy weapon. Rarity peered out and saw tan-uniformed soldiers advancing cautiously towards the pinned Germans, covered by their machinegun. When they got close enough, three of them simultaneously threw grenades into and around the halftrack. A few fearful grenadiers stayed put and were killed by the blast. Most tried to run and were cut down by the reaping heavy weapon.
Both Rarity and the British stayed crouched in cover, but no more signs of the enemy were seen. Explosions and gunfire echoed in the distance, a background music that had been going on ever since they entered the city.
"Nice work, Miss Rarity."
Rarity turned towards the deep voice, seeing Stern Gaze clop towards her. He seemed unfazed. She, on the other hoof, felt like a wreck. Bile was rising in her throat, tears were coming down her eyes again, and she just wouldn't stop shaking. Rarity looked down, ashamed. She was ashamed of her fear, ashamed that she was too weak to actually kill any of the enemy, and ashamed that she was happy she didn't.
She had no way of knowing that Stern was ashamed too. While Rarity had turned the tables on the Germans at great risk to herself, he had remained still, cowering. He was just better at hiding his feelings.
"You probably need to recharge your magic. Let's find someplace to lay low for a moment." They both knew Stern Gaze was just offering an excuse – a few telekinetic bursts would hardly exhaust a unicorn's magic. But he had seen a few fights in the past month. Ponies could snap from the stress of combat, and Rarity looked like she was on the edge. This was her first battle, and she wasn't taking it well.
"I'm fine," she gave the token response. "I just need a moment to catch my breath."
Stern Gaze was about to point out that she didn't look anywhere close to 'fine,' but a cough attracted both of their attentions. One of the tan-dressed soldiers had approached them, smiling a touch.
"Private Mueller," he introduced himself, tapping his helmet. Neither pony was particularly familiar with humans, but he looked young and short, with a chubby face and boyish eyes dulled by battle. "Nice trick back there. Orders are to keep pushing up. Can we expect you to accompany us?"
Stern drew a sharp breath, about to give a resounding "neigh," but Rarity nodded. "Yes, of course. 'Everyone together' and all that."
'Everyone together.' Stern couldn't resist a snort at the words. It was supposed to be a rallying call – all the Allied armies attacking at the same time, knowing the Germans were bound to break somewhere. After a month of failing to get more than a few miles from the beaches, human leaders were losing patience. That meant a lot of frontal attacks right where the Germans expected them. That was going to mean a lot of dead bodies, and Stern had no intention of him or his charge joining that number. He wanted to tell the human to just buck off.
A glance at Rarity stopped him. Her shaking had ceased, and she looked a lot calmer. She was looking steadily at him, showing him that she was ready. He snorted again, smiling despite himself. Of course the Element of Generosity would do her share. How could he have thought otherwise?
"They're waiting for us," Rarity said. Mueller thought she was talking about his platoon, but Stern knew better.
"Aye. That they are."
Mueller signaled his men, and the patchwork band crept deeper into the city. Rarity was in the lead, which meant so was Stern – always a half-step between her and the likeliest threat. The presence of others seemed to bring out the best in his charge. She freely swapped brief comments with the humans, accepting survival tips and figuring out which street led where. Most of these exchanges were initiated by Rarity. The unicorn seemed entirely comfortable in the presence of humans. Stern, on the other hand, kept glancing at Mueller, who kept glancing back.
Most humans looked the same to Stern, but experience was starting to let him pick out details. Despite the baby fat on his face, Mueller had an athletic frame and carried himself upright and proud. His weapon was a submachine gun, one of the British-built Stens. It required two hands to use – one to hold in the sideways ammo clip – but it was no less effective for it. Most of the other soldiers held slow-firing rifles. Despite his youth, Mueller had apparently been judged reliable enough to be trusted with the advanced weapon.
Maybe it's like with the Royal Guard, Stern mused. Rather than the common bronze armor, his barding was silver. It was far heavier too, and held every protective enchantment the unicorns could squeeze on. Not just any pony was entrusted with protecting the Elements of Harmony. Those that were got the best equipment Equestria could offer. Maybe this human youth was just the same: proving himself worthy of greater responsibility than his peers.
Try as he might, though, Stern couldn't picture Mueller as a pony.
Movement to their right snapped them all out of their own thoughts. Guns were raised, but the source proved friendly. Coming into view on the other side of a ruined house were a pair of timberwolves, followed by a much larger one. Atop the patriarch stood a bright green unicorn, white hair twisted with vines. He smiled and gestured with his horn, a short glow of yellow magic directing his charges onwards. A dozen more timberwolves came after their leader, loping strides quickly leaving the other group behind. Even Rarity would have had trouble keeping up.
The humans began to speak excitedly of the strange sight, but their lieutenant pointed forwards. Black smoke was coming from just up the road, and wounded British were hobbling back towards them. If that didn't get their attention, a large shell streaming overhead certainly did.
"Excuse me, Sir?" Rarity called out to one of the walking wounded. Even on a battlefield, she maintained a lady's politeness. "What's ahead?"
Despite the hole in his hand, the soldier's wits were still about him. "Tanks, one of ours and one of theirs, both blasting at each other's cover. Infantry too."
The lieutenant ordered them to go straight into the fight. Maybe there was a better way, but he was no more skilled than the soldiers he led, and neither pony had a better idea.
Both tanks were stuck in piles of rubble, but were shielded from the foe by their own trap. The ground in between them was once a magnificent town square, offering not a scrap of precious cover. The result was stalemate: corpses of both sides dotted the ground where foolhardy infantry had tried to rush forwards. In nearby buildings and behind barricades, soldiers peered and sniped nervously out of cover.
Mueller and his men fanned out, taking their own positions and giving ineffectual fire.
Rarity peered towards the enemy, then ducked behind the Allied tank. "Too far away for me to attack with my magic…but I can clear the rubble. Maybe freeing this one will help."
"Don't," Stern warned.
"Why not?"
The guard tapped the side of the tank with his hoof, shouting to be heard above the crackling gunfire. "I learned a few things about human war machines. This is a sherman. The one the Germans are using is called a tiger. A tiger's kind of like a sherman, only it's better in every way that counts. The sherman can shoot at the tiger all day long, but if it's not in the flank, nothing's going to happen. A tiger hits a sherman once and it goes boom. The debris the sherman's stuck in is the only thing keeping the ponies…people inside alive."
The power of German tanks was another lesson not covered in training, but Rarity accepted his words with a nod. She opened her mouth, but the question was drowned out by a dozen throats howling in unison. The timberwolf pack exploded out of one of the side alleys, barreling directly towards the German line. The unicorn atop the largest was howling along with his charges, horn glowing a fierce yellow as he lent them speed.
There wasn't nearly enough time for the tiger tank to bring its gun to bear. The surprised Germans opened fire, but the bullets just smacked into the wooden creatures with a thump and nothing else. Not even one wolf fell as they leapt the rubble and were amongst the infantry. Sharp mouths grabbed bodies and flung them, screaming, into the air. Timberwolves smashed into buildings and bounded up stairs towards the trapped soldiers above.
"Get ready to rush!" An officer shouted. If robbed of its own infantry, even the mighty Tiger would be prey for simple soldiers with grenades. Rarity and Stern exchanged a glance and steeled themselves, ready to do their part.
Another howl went up, this one pained and cut short. Crackling like a sparkler filled the air, though loud enough to make hearts leap in their chests. Rarity felt her jaw drop as a timberwolf sailed back over the barricade. It hit the ground and shattered into splinters before another followed. Two more yelped and whined as they sprinted back, their coats ablaze with purple-red fire that didn't go out until they were charred corpses.
The vicious howls had turned to pathetic yipes. The largest of the timberwolves was raised upwards as if plucked by some giant hand. It cried in pain and Rarity watched in horror as its form began shifting. The beast fought the transformation, but the magic was too strong. It was jammed into the form of a giant spear and hurled towards the allied lines, crashing through a building.
A man stepped around the German barricades. He didn't look magical, or even evil. He wore the mottled-brown uniform of the SS, the face above it drawn and tired. A canteen clanked against his side and his helmet was gone, showing thin, grimy hair.
But in his right hand, he clutched the mane of an unconscious green unicorn. His left hand scooped something from a pouch at his side and he pressed his nose into it, inhaling deeply and giving a violent cough immediately afterwards.
It was shimmering and multicolored, but unmistakably, it was the glow of magic that surrounded the soldier. With a grunt of exertion, he hurled the pony straight towards the British lines. The unicorn's flight crossed the hundred meters in under a second. Rarity closed her eyes tightly, not trusting herself to watch the inevitable as the living missile collided with a wall.
Most of the others had similar reactions, but when they looked again the soldier was upon them. The impromptu projectile wasn't intentional cruelty, but a practical distraction. He followed it with unnatural speed and ploughed directly through the barricades. A brackish glow surrounded him as he swept his arm wide, sending a slice of black energy through a building. Soldiers screamed as their cover collapsed with them inside, but he was already moving on. He turned to the Sherman and punched with one hand, a grey orb of telekinetic force coming out.
The soldier didn't even see Stern Glare standing in the way. The hefty earth pony braced and took the hit on his shoulder. Runes on the armor flared as the enchantments absorbed the brunt of the blow. But this wild, untamed magic was too much to block entirely. After a second of straining, Stern staggered and his shoulder pauldron disintegrated. What was left of the blow slammed him to the side of the tank, but enough force had been leached from it to save both from destruction. Stern banged his head and fell to the ground, winded and dazed.
A whip of blue energy stabbed towards the soldier. His magic aura recoiled, but absorbed the attack. Those tired eyes turned to the source of the strike. Though much shorter, Rarity raised her head high to meet his gaze. Her eyes narrowed, and his did as well. Hers were hot with anger, his cold with professionalism, but the intentions behind each were the same.
It was time to kill.
Mueller's Sten gun chattered its payload, but the bullets melted as they connected the soldier's strange aura. He stretched his hand out and a purple-red bolt of fire shot forth. With the finesse of her profession, Rarity latched onto it with her own magic, dodging and swinging it around herself to hurl back at him. The soldier grunted as the bolt impacted, thrashing his arms out: his left to deflect the blow, his right to attack again.
She could physically feel the power of his magic. Rarity couldn't match the destruction he could summon, but he was unskilled. His attacks were obvious and blunt, relying only on brute force. She parried again and again, only exerting the energy needed to deflect an attack. The soldier responded in the only way he could think of: channeling greater and greater power.
The man felt his magic wane with exertion. He reached into his pouch again, but Rarity went on the offensive. She thrusted with concentrated beams of energy. Now he was exerting his untamed power just to stay alive, his wobbly field starting to fade. He kept trying to go for the pouch, but Rarity kept forcing his hands back up to ward her attacks.
"Nein!" He shouted, resolve breaking. He channeled the last of his aura into a feeble thrust and reached for the pistol at his side, but Mueller was faster. A short burst, and blood leapt from the soldier's body. He crumpled without another sound.
Mueller didn't even acknowledge Rarity. His eyes were wide and fixed on the body, as if terrified it would rise again.
Like nothing had ever happened, the stalemate resumed. Both tanks were intact, and neither side's infantry could gain any ground.
It took an act of will, but Rarity approached the dead German. Everyone knew that humans couldn't use magic. How could he? Not only that, but how was he powerful enough to kill a dozen timberwolves and a unicorn?
She had a horrible, horrible feeling in her stomach. She needed an answer, but every instinct she held screamed at her to look away.
It had to be something about the man's pouch. She looked at it, then into his dead eyes, then back again. Rarity swallowed and nudged the body with her hoof, not even knowing why she felt so terrified. She closed her eyes, swallowed again, and upended the pouch.
Grainy dust came out. Her logical mind snapped back in control and she caught it with her magic. She levitated the pile close and peered at it, wishing she had her glasses on hoof. The jeweler's magic instinctively began sorting it, showing the dust to be a mix of several colors.
Rarity sat down and rubbed her chin with her hoof, curiosity replacing fear. This had to have been the source of his power – soldiers wouldn't carry mere dust in bags. But what could it be?
A simple spell would give the answer. Rarity's work made analysis spells a specialty of hers. In happier times, they examined the quality of silk and gemstones. Here, they would let her solve the mystery.
She closed her eyes, picturing the dust in her mind. The magic flowed into her conscience, bringing knowledge of the powder and where it came from.
Faces!
Her eyes shot back open, and the sense of horror returned tenfold. The magic winked out, letting the powder fall to the ground. Some of it splashed on her hooves, and she screamed and recoiled away.
So many faces!
"What? What!" Mueller stumbled backwards, confusion and fear rising. "What is it?"
The lieutenant glanced in their direction irately, only seeing a pony and soldier panicking over blood. "Mueller! Get in a firing position and pour it on!"
They both ignored him. Rarity made a few noises with her mouth that failed to become words. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her thoughts. Tears poured from her eyes, her chest heaving in silent sobs.
"They're…" She hiccupped, then finished. "They're unicorns."
Mueller looked at her with wide eyes. "What?"
"This dust is powdered unicorn horns."
They both shivered at the implications. Mueller paled, imagining a magically-armed Reich marching to ultimate victory. Rarity's eyes closed again, thinking of all the faces that flashed to her mind. Pieces of every one of them lay on the ground, slowly being dispersed by the wind. They were probably still alive, though that was small mercy. The Nazis would keep them breathing, harvesting the regenerating horns like apples.
She shook her head, but it did nothing to clear her thoughts. "How could they?"
The tiger traversed its turret and fired, sending a massive shell into a bakery that British soldiers were hiding in. The building crumpled, but remained standing. Screams came from inside. A furious soldier leapt to a window and shot back. Mueller's lieutenant took a bullet to the shoulder and crouched, whimpering.
"How could they?" Rarity whispered again, not even hearing herself over the din of combat. The sherman next to her belched its own payload. The well-aimed shot sailed over the tiger's cover and impacted its turret. A clang of hammer and anvil sounded, and the unshaken German tank simply fired again.
Rarity wobbled. The world was spinning around her. It all felt so distant now, all the sounds melding together into a quiet roar. She swayed and fell, losing all feeling.
They're waiting for me.
Her hoof snapped out, catching her just before she hit the ground. Rarity's eyes opened, her senses returning with crystal clarity. Every sound found a place in her conscience, every sight was noticed. Around her, tan-clad humans were fighting and dying. And on the other side…
"How could they." She whispered it again, but it was a chilled statement rather than a mewling question.
"Miss…" Mueller began to say something, reaching a hand for her. Rarity smacked it aside with her horn and sprinted forwards, leaping the barricades in one jump.
He stood and turned after her, but the pony speeding towards the enemy was no longer the polite, nervous unicorn he had come to know. Orange fire had erupted from her hooves and mane, and her eyes glowed red. The flames blazed high both upwards and behind her, making her seem twice as large. Her coat had brightened to a white so hot that sunspots flashed across Mueller's eyes.
Rarity was sprinting, but her hooves weren't touching the ground. Bullets came at her, but they fizzed and disintegrated as they came near. She stopped right in front of the tiger. Without the usual glow, a magic beam sprang from her horn. It struck the tiger, and lifted the tank into the sky with ease. Rarity flicked her horn and the once-insurmountable behemoth sailed into a stable the Germans were fighting from. It ploughed through the building entirely before coming to a stop, wrong-side up.
"HOW COULD YOU?!!" She screamed, and no one answered.
The rubble pile in which the tiger once sat lifted up and erupted around Rarity. Like a massive shotgun, thousands of bits of brick and stone hammered the nearby buildings. Such was the force behind the magic that German soldiers shying from windows were slain by ricochet hits. Walls were perforated, and two of the buildings collapsed under the strain.
Shouts and screams filled the air. Guns poked out from a three-story boardinghouse and fired at her to no effect. A middle-aged soldier leaned out a window, trying to take aim at Rarity with a panzerfaust anti-tank weapon. While he fumbled with the clumsy missile, she drew a sharp line in the air with her horn. A diagonal slash appeared in the building along the exact same angle, bisecting it. The top half slid off to shatter on the ground, taking the soldier with it. He gave a cry, eyes wide with terror, and was lost to sight.
Fire sounded out from behind Rarity. Seeing their enemies being overwhelmed, the British were surging forwards. No fire came back at them – the remaining Germans were shocked at the utter destruction. A few threw down their arms and surrendered, eyes wide and terrified. Some were hiding in fear, others fleeing.
She wanted to run after them. For one of them, just one of them to have the courage to answer her question. But when she took the first step, it felt like a hammer hit her head. She flinched, stumbled, and fell, once more just a purple-maned mare named Rarity. The unrestrained magic of an enraged unicorn left her drained, magically, emotionally, and physically. Like a lead weight was tied to her neck, she collapsed to her side and lay still.
A familiar presence stepped beside her. She opened an eye and saw Stern Gaze standing over her, battered and sad. A trickle of blood leaked down his mane and dripped from the end of his nose. But only concern for his charge showed on his face as he quietly sat down next to her.
"How could they?" She asked in a whisper before sinking to unconsciousness.
It was only a few minutes later, after she was well beyond hearing, that Stern responded.
"I don't know. I just don't know." And he nuzzled her mane as a sherman rolled past them.