Preface
Ordinarily I would write just a few lines, flying on the high of creating, then it would be over. I would leave the story, just for a moment, and suddenly apathy would decend, consigning it to an ever increasing graveyard of unfinished works. And yet they would haunt me, all the characters, all the little personalities I had abandoned, until I tried to drown them out with yet another story.
Until one day, I chanced across a young filly by the name of LittlePip.
A dear friend of mine, a brony even more fanatical than me, introduced us. Pretty soon I was lost, translated into a sad and beautiful landscape where doomed ponies nevertheless tried to scratch a living from past miseries. And yet small mercies bloom amongst the greyness, tiny specks of hope masterfully penned making them that much more precious.
It was this world, this fallen Equestria, which truly inspired me.
My eternal gratitude to you, dear friend, who gave me wisdom, irritation and occasional genius.
My eternal gratitude to Kkat, who gave me perseverance and a light to guide me.
My eternal gratitude to all of you, all you strange and delightful bronies, who gave me hope.
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Introduction
Once upon a time, in the magical land of Equestria…
There was a time of peace. The land, and the creatures upon it, flourished. No war. No fear. No pain beyond the sweat of a mare's brow as she tilled the land, and put back love. Below the ground magic grew, upon it plants climbed, and above, the stars shined. For the elegant and ethereal Unicorns, magic was theirs to command, and they sang into shape such spells and wonders that the birds themselves wept for joy. For the Earth Ponies the strength of their bodies and spirit were their gift, and they raised houses, dreamed under the stars without fear, before emerging fresh faced and joyful to grow the natural gifts Equestria bestowed upon them. For the Pegasi, the high zephyrs and fresh, life giving clouds were their domain, and they soared through the skies shepherding the rains and rainbows. Above but among the multitude, the Alicorns spread their benevolent wings. Sisters, avatars of Night and Day, united in purpose, conjoined by love.
Which is not to say that evil, in its infinite guises, did not show its face. But whenever darkness threatened, they would stand. Standing together, differences realized but not remembered, harmony a shield that no wickedness could ever penetrate.
For all, another day after another. Day after day, of light and happiness.
And yet...
Not all shared this vision of peace. Some, in fact, found it difficult. Irksome. A hindrance to the continued progress and development of Equestria as a whole, progressive nation.
Under the careful supervision of all the Equestrian people, civilization prospered. Cities sprawled. Towers climbed ever higher. And so did ambitions.
And then there was war.
There were a lot of elaborate words thrown around those days. Glory. Honour. Freedom. So many abstract but oh so admirable concepts that ultimately came to nothing. It was a dirty war. A nasty, filthy, despicable bastard of a war that ate the people of both sides and still hungered for more, licking its lips after every course.
The wicked prospered. Everypony else? Difficult. Irksome. A hindrance to the continued progress and development of Equestria as a whole, progressive nation. Fodder.
What the wicked couldn't know, or didn't want to know, was that a pony can only be pushed so far. There is a line in all things. A line that, when breached, will release the beast. It is impervious to good and evil. It is beyond the shining walls of sanity, and into the altogether more uncivilized places on the other side.
The line snapped. Suddenly, the wicked discovered that ponies weren't so civilized any more.
The once proud nation was reduced to a corroded shadow of its former self. A torn wasteland of sour, clinging dust, pocked by spell craters and crusted with the crumbling remains of a loving and peaceful civilization.
All had been lost. The Earth Ponies were struggling for survival, the Unicorns close to extinction, and the Pegasi sealed away above the clouds in blissful self-imposed ignorance. Apart from a precious few enclaves the old values of tolerance and forgiveness had given way to selfishness and savagery. The lingering influences of ancient weapons still haunt the tortured world. Animals changed and twisted. Plants walk and stalk their prey, and the dead rise hungry for the taste of living flesh. The heartland of Equestria festers, seething with invisible unrest. The legions of the old world stir from their slumber, new orders pass on the mistakes of the dead, black flags rise in the east, and dark secrets, never destined to see the light of day, nevertheless seek to escape. And worse, the wicked return.
Because war... war never changes.