Unknown Forest outside Canterlot
August 28th, 1851
Day 18 of the Invasion of Equestria
"Dammit, Tom, I think we made a wrong turn. Check the map again."
"No, we're goin' the right way, trust me."
I sighed. It was getting dark, and we still hadn't found our regiment in this confusing landscape. And we were carrying Private
Wallace, who had been wounded with a spear through the leg, so of course I got to carry him.
He had passed out long ago, and I was starting to get tired from carrying him.
"Hey, Tom, want to switch?"
"Sure," I set down Private Wallace, and Tom gave me the map and compass. I looked at the map, found Canterlot, and approximated where we were.
As we began trekking toward the edge of the forest, our feet crunching on the dirt, I froze. Tom stopped behind me, and we both listened.
Voices.
"John, you sure this is near our lines?"
"Shit, Tom, it's getting dark. Let's just take our chances."
In all honesty, I didn't care if the ponies captured us. I just wanted to go home. Back to where I could try to live the rest of my life, and not have to worry about trenches, or their spears, or the way to kill a pony with a bayonet.
We slowly approached where the voices were coming from, and I could begin to see a trench of some kind. I fixed the bayonet onto my musket, and I slowly hopped into the trench. Nothing.
I could still hear the voices, and as Tom followed me, with Wallace in his arms, we found a room that had been dug into the side of the trench. The voices were coming from there.
I slowly entered, along with Tom. "Hello? Is anybody there?"
Before I could get a response, I saw them.
There were two ponies there, one was a rather brown color, and the other had was a shade of yellow. The yellow one had a horn on its head, from what I've heard, it let them perform sinister feats of magic. They saw me, and quickly grabbed their spears.
"No no no! I don't want to hurt you!"
One of them slowly approached me, spear in hoof, and at that moment Tom arrived, carrying Wallace.
"See? We're carrying wounded!" My voice was becoming desperate as they still didn't believe us.
I set down my musket, and held up my hands. "Please...we don't want to kill you..."
"Oh yeah?" The yellow one nearly yelled with a feminine voice her horn glowing at the tip, "When did that ever stop you? I was at Canterlot, you apes advanced three times, so much for 'not wanting to kill us'!" Her spear was beginning to touch my neck, "How about we decide it right now?"
I was speechless. I wonder how we would've felt if they had invaded us.
"Hey, we were at Canterlot too," Tom began, "and yes, we were under orders to continue advancing. But that shouldn't matter now. We're just soldiers, just like you are."
The yellow pony started into a rant. "See, Boulder? They are savages! They just want to kill us! They won't stop until-"
At this the brown pony, Boulder apparently, set down the yellow pony's spear with a hoof. "It's alright, let's just see what they want."
I began to slowly stand up, but was pushed back down again by the yellow one. "Alright, but I still don't trust them."
I answered slowly, and told Boulder about the condition of Private Wallace. "Is there any way you can treat him?"
"Well, uh, let her check, I don't really know any first aid." Tom and I lifted Wallace onto a table, after clearing maps from it.
Boulder beckoned the yellow pony over, who opened a medical kit of some kind. She angrily began poking and prodding Wallace, who regained consciousness. "Hey, where am I..." His eyes opened, and he sat up, and tried to get off the table. "HOLY CRAP! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? TOM!? JOHN!? WHERE ARE YOU?"
Tom grabbed his hand, like how a father reassures his son, and looked at him. "Listen, Ben, I know it's confusing. But they want to help you, alright? They probably know more about how to treat your leg than our doctors." Ben looked over at me, then looked at Tom. He sighed, and lay back down, Tom still holding his hand.
I watched as the yellow pony started to examine the wound more closely, her horn glowing as she did so. She touched it, poked it, and studied it for a good couple of minutes.
Finally, her horn, as well as Ben's leg, began to glow a blue color, and Tom held onto Ben's hand, trying his best to reassure him. The wound closed, and to both Tom and I's amazement, Ben didn't show any signs of pain. He sat up, looked at his leg, and pulled his pant leg up to touch the skin.
"Th-thank you..." He looked gratefully at the yellow pony, who simply grunted.
"Your leg is healed, though I wouldn't put too much strain on it for a day or two." She said this rather coldly, and Ben got off the table under his own power.
I steadied him as he took a few steps, getting used to walking again.
"Ma'am, we are forever grateful to you..." I looked at her, and realized that perhaps there wasn't too much of a difference between us, just unwilling soldiers filled with promises of glory and honor, told to fight in a war that they never fully understood.
"Yeah, well, don't mention it." She looked down at the ground, and Boulder approached us.
"Normally at this point, we would be taking you prisoner, but how about we just look away, and you figure out a way to escape?" I nodded, and we collected our gear.
As we left, Ben suddenly stopped. "Hang on, I forgot something." He ran back inside, and emerged a few seconds later, not really forgetting anything.
So we began to search for our lines again, this time with a new, traitorous idea in our minds. Perhaps these ponies, after all, weren't our real enemies.