//------------------------------//
// Chapter Five 
// Story: Rebels in Equestria 
// by MDR-V6 
//------------------------------//

	Autumn's cool breeze blows through the library's open windows. The room is still save for a dancing candle light above. Slowly, but surely, the telekinetic binds along your body begin to release. The pressure along your chest and legs dissipate, much to your relief.
Twilight releases her grasp and trots over to you. She extends one of her hoofs out to you.
“Ah-na-ny-mus?” she slowly asks. Despite the language barrier, she's able to pronounce it well enough. You grasp her hoof in a handshake.
It's a strange sensation., shaking hands with a horse. But it's a feeling you cast aside. Her hoof is firm, yet plush at the same time. Her fur is warm to the touch. It's almost like grasping a bag of hot sand.
“Yes, Anonymous.” you respond.
However, Twilight seems to have ignored you all together. Instead she seems completely mesmerizes by your hand. She reaches for it again, this time cradling it with her two forearms. Twilight waves over for the rest of the ponies to see for themselves. They follow suite, albeit timidly.
With her telekinesis, she brings a scroll of paper and quill over to you. Eagerly handing to you. “Ah-no-ny-mous?” she asks, while whisking at the pen and parchment.
It crosses your mind for a moment, that you're probably as much of a new sight to them as they are to you.  And judging from what you've seen so far, they've probably have had the luxury of appendages like those of a human. Instead they seem to rely heavily on that telekinetic force of theirs to manipulate the world around them. You humor them.
You crack your knuckles and remove your thick leather gloves. And as you do, you can feel their eyes widen in awe. With your calloused hands, you firmly grasp the quill. You carefully write out the letters “A-N-O-N-Y-M-O-U-S” as neatly as you can. You point to the paper, and repeat your name a few times. Eventually, Twilight seems to catch on.
She snatches up the paper and shows it off to the rest of the ponies. And judging by the tone of her voice, you can tell she sounds surprised, or impressed even. She turns and smiles briefly before addressing the rest of the ponies. You hear your name tossed around the conversation a few times.
It's strange. Hearing something as familiar as your own name, mixed with a language so alien is unsettling. Their language is so strange, for it doesn't sound like anything you've ever heard before.
You sit patiently, finishing your apple. It's sweet flavor is almost too good to be true. Once you've come close to it's core, the yellow pegasus fetches you another. You give her a warm smile, something you haven't done in what feels like an eternity, before thanking her. And although you don't speak the same language, she smiles, nods her head, and responds with what you're sure to be a 'You're Welcome.'
Twilight returns to your side, this time carrying a tall stack of scrolls. She pulls one from the pile and stretches it out across the table. It's a map that seems to have been hand drawn from a skilled cartographer. It's covered in landmarks, rivers and towns. And it was apparent, that whoever drew this map put a lot of effort into it.
Twilight points for a small down in the middle of the map before pointing to herself. Then, she points to you.
“Where I'm from?” you whisper.
You pull to the map towards yourself and try to find a familiar landmark. A city, a town, a river, a state, anything that even seems vaguely familiar...
But you can't. You hand the map with a silent shake of your head.
Twilight hands you more maps. But they all yield the same result. Her ears droop down low as she sighs in disappointment.
“My bag.” You point to the white pony who is still carrying your belongings. You wave her over to you. “Bring them to me.”
She does so  hesitantly .
“Thanks.” you reply. You dig through your bag to produce a mess of crumbled papers. You sift through old notebooks and torn folders until a small laminated document catches your eye.
“Got it.” you exclaim.
You unfold it on the table before. It's a detailed map of your home nation. It's a detailed map of Emmeria, your home country. And although it's very much covered in scribbles and scrawls, it's still very much legible. You point to a small dot on the southern coast, then to yourself.
“Tarvo City. It's where I lived.”
You point to another spot on the map. A large red star sits nestled by the ocean side.
“Gracemeria.” you announce. “This is my home town.”
The ponies circle around the map in awe. Curiosity and awe gleams in their eyes. Twilight produces a scroll and starts jotting down notes. You continue digging through your bag and produce a small stack of pre-war postcards. Postcards you've collected over the years.
While it's not much, it offers some sentimental to your way of life. A reminder of what you fought for. You hand Twilight the stack.
She goes through them one by one. Postcards of various cities from your travels. Gracemeria, San Loma, Vitoze, Campagna and your city Tarvo Bay.
You dig through to find another stack of cards when you heard a hard knock coming from the front door. The room goes silent for a moment. Everyone's neck snaps at sound. The rapping starts up again. This time with more force.
Twilight hesitantly makes her way to the door, her hooves just faintly echoing in the silence. She cracks the door open. All the meanwhile, you hear the other ponies whispering amongst each other. They sound bothered, worried even. A heavy chill runs down your spine. You reach into the bag.
Before she knew it, Twilight was knocked aside from the door. Several white stallions forced their way into the library. They flooded the room and started shouting.
They are all dressed head to toe in golden clad armor. Some are armed with shields, swords and bows. Soldiers. Akin to your own. 
Finally, their eyes widen in shock when they see you too. One particular stallion catches your eye. He's a valiant looking one. His hair is a rich blue and his eyes are as clear as the sky. He starts barking orders to the others.
The stallions draw their weapons and start to surround you.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” you shout, stumbling behind the chair. The stallions pierce you ears as they shout at the top of the lungs.  Twilight picks herself up and starts to argue with the blue haired soldiers.	
One of the soldiers readies his bow. The sound of the string being tensioned brings a chill down your spine. You quickly scan the room, and you see your chance.
The white unicorn has been ushered to the corner of the room. She's idly standing by a few feet to your left. Your rifle is propped up but a few feet next to her. You slowly pick yourself up an stand up. You can feel all eyes on you. But yet, you can feel the tension in the room. You easily tower over the tiny stallions. You can feel their hesitation.  Their fear. 
You bank on this an make a mad dash for the white pony and your rifle. You pick her up and the rifle in one fell swoop. You strong arm her and pick her up. Using her as a shield of sorts. You pull up your rifle with the other arm and aim it towards the archer.
“Drop it!” you boom. “Drop it right now! I'll shoot!”
The archer cringes at your voice, but doesn't comply. He pulls farther bake on the string. A few of the soldiers surround you with their swords. You feel the white unicorn struggle under your arm. You give her a quick tug and shush her wit ha verdant voice.  Hopefully, she'll be able to forgive you later. 
You start to shuffle against the wall. Working your way towards the exit.
You lock eyes with the archer.
“Drop it! Fucking drop it!” you shout. “I'll blow your fucking head off! I swear to god! I'll fucking do it! I swear to fucking god! Drop it! Drop it!”
Your voice booms throughout the library, but  they don't heed to your warning. You tighten your grip on the white pony. You can hear her whimpering. The sounds her sobbing hits a nerve. You only pull her tighter. Your mind races for options. Ignoring your previous training, you keep your finger heavy on the trigger.
Panic strikes. You decide your course of action. The white pony is still frozen in fear. Her whimpers break the silence in the library. You force herself up on two legs and pick her up off the ground. You clutch her tight. Putting her ear to your mouth, you whisper a silent  “Please forgive me.” before turning the gun on her. The rifle's bayonet just barely prods her neck. She whimpers and struggles, but you keep her steady.
“Fuckers! Drop it! Drop your weapons!” you shout, prodding the unicorn with your rifle, “I'll blow all your fucking brains out! Drop it! Or she's fucking dead!”
Your arms are trembling and your stomach churns with disgust. Never once have you even considered taking innocents as hostages. Finger on the trigger, you await their disgust. 
“Anonymous!” Twilight shouts. “Anonymous! Anonymous!” She shouts your name. Over and over again. She's at tears. Asking you to stop.... No. She's practically begging you.
You imagine yourself puling the trigger. The cold 'pop' of your weapon followed by the kickback. Your body splattered in blood. You imagine turning the rifle on the rest of the stallions. Spraying the room with lead in hopes of coming out on top.
Maybe, you'd get lucky. Maybe you'd clear the room before any of them have a chance to get to you. You might get out of the library alive...
But what then?
Where would you go? What would you do? Could you live your new life out as a fugitive in this world? Could you be able to live with yourself after taking the life of an innocent? A civilian?
Dealing with armed Stovies was one thing. But killing civilians? That's inhumane. It's slaughter. And above all, a disgrace to everything you've fought for.
Your arms tremble even more and your vision clouds.
 Is this really what you want? 
 Is this how you want them to know you as? 
 A murderer? 

The white unicorn in your grasp whimpers even more. She's lost in hysterics. “Anonymous!” she cries out.
Your mind races, your heart pounds, and you finally decide.

After much hesitation, you drop the white unicorn. She scurries to her feet and runs by Twilight's side. You drop the rifle.
No sooner than you do, a stallion tackles you to the ground. You let out a heavy grunt as he tackles you to the wall. The rest close in on you and hold you at knife point. They throw you to the ground and pin you down. You can feel the sharp blades prodding against the back of your neck. They restrain you with heavy shackles and chains.
You glance up to see Twilight and the others by your side. And just for a split second, you see the white unicorn you've taken hostage. You lock eyes with her. A pit in your stomach wells up. You avert your gaze. And just for a split second, you feel a hard crack alongside the back of your head before passing out.


There's gunshots outside. The sounds of dying men fills your ears. A cold shiver runs down your spine. This operation was a bust.
Fearing for your life, you rush up a set of stairs. You slam against a wall and scan the upcoming hall for any movement. But these hallways have been long since emptied and deserted.
The cold winter air ravages through the building's cracks and drafts. Warm blood tricks down your shoulder.
“S-Shit!” you grunt, “J-Just stay with me!”
On account of the man you're carrying over your shoulder, walking is somewhat difficult.
Injuries are nothing new to you all. You're all been shot, maimed and bruised. But it's something you try to patch up and walk off. Sometimes, you got lucky. Sometimes, you were able to walk off with nothing more than a few flesh wounds.
But his luck ran out.
You feel the warm trickle of blood run down your back. It soaks your clothing. He's losing blood. Fast.
You drag yourself down the apartment halls. Each side, lined with doors.
You take your chances. Finding the nearest one, you throw your weight into it and slam it open.
“Anon! P-Please!” the man grunts. His cries of pain fill the building.
“Just stay with me!” you plead. “You're doing good! You're doing good!”
You shuffle into the apartment. There's a small kitchenette to your left. Inside, you find a small dining room table. With your free hand, you clear the table and throw your friend on top.
“I don't wanna die...I don't wanna die...I don't wanna die...” the man repeats.
You start rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. The situations is critical. You've got nothing. No morphine. No medical supplies. Nothing.	
“Just stay with me! You're gonna be okay!” you shout.
You run off into the rest of the apartment. Nearly tripping over scattered debris, you bolt into the bath room. You dig through the medicine cabinets.
But it's empty. No first aid. No medicine.
Nothing.
Like most of these parts, any and all useable supplies has already been picked clean. You grab a dirty towel from the floor and bring it to the sink. You turn the faucet for the cold water.
No dice.
Water has been cut from this side of town.

The radio piece in your ear comes to life.
“All units. All units!” the familiar voice shouts. “All units! We've done stirred up a hornets nest! This operation is FUBAR. We're pulling out! All units head to your designated extraction points! You've all got ten minutes!”
“Anonymous!” the man cries.
“Jesus! Just- Fuck! Just give me a minute!”
You find the toilet. Tossing the lid of the tank, you dip the towel inside.
“Anonymous!?” he screams.
You rush back into the kitchen. He's still on the table, squirming about. Blood has begun to pool at the feet of the table. Using your knife, you rip open his shirt and get to the wound. You remove as much debris and shrapnel as you can. As you press down on the wound, blood seeps out of his body like a sponge.
“Look at me!” you shout. “Look at me!  You're going to be fine! I'm gonna get you out! We're gonna pull out! You're going to be okay!”
He only screams in agony. The bleeding doesn't stop. You press the towel down and apply more wound. He gags on a mixture of blood and saliva. His breathing weakens.
He starts crying. Practically begging for his life.
“A-A-A-Anon.” he stutters. “T-Tell m-my wif-”
Before he could finish, his body enters shock. His body trembles. You put more pressure on the wound. The blood doesn't stop.
His body convulses. His breathing slows. You pick him up, squeezing him tightly. At least, you try to console him in his dying moments. The room fills with silence. And the world around you seems to slow to a crawl.
He mutters for a few moments, before finally gathering the strength to say what's on his mind. “I-I-I wanna go h-h-home.”
His pulse drops. His body tenses, and finally, you feel the last bit of life escape his body.

You strand by idly clutching the lifeless corpse for what feels like an eternity. You dig through his blood soaked jacket. Most of it is torn up by shrapnel. You find his wallet and peer inside. There isn't much.
A few pre-war bills. A bank card. A driver's license and a few crumbled up photos of him with his family.
He had a wife and two little girls.
You take the photos, along with the rest of his gear. You grab the rifle sling across his back. An AK variant. It was practically new, and had seen little use. At the very least, you'd be able to make some use it.
You turn back on the body and take one last good look at him. His eyes are still wide open, forever stuck with the look of remorse.
You shut his eyes, laying him to rest.
“I'm sorry.” you whisper.
With a bed sheet you picked up from one of the bed rooms, you cover the corpse.

With nothing left for you here, you leave the apartment. You're sure to close the door behind you. You pick up your new rifle and take point.
You leave the apartment and start to make your way out of the building. You swing the doors open and make your way into the frigid night. The wind picks up.
A blizzard rages through the city, making visibility near zero.
You take a deep breath before venturing into the darkness once more.


You awake to the sounds of Twilight's voice. She's arguing with the soldiers. The voices of the rest of the ponies are present too, and for the most part, they seem upset. You reach out towards the sounds of her voice, but your arm is shackled down. 
“Twilight?” you call out, you voice coarse and dry.
Heavy handcuffs run chained down your body. The rusty metal metal has already started to irritate the skin around your ankles and wrists. Your eyes adjust, and you find yourself in a new local. You feel a cold wind whipping against your face. The air is thing, and breathing becomes difficult. You glance up, to see yourself in an airborne chariot. It's pulled by a fleet of pegasi. The constant swaying motion of the cabin makes you sick to your stomach. But you manage.
The seat you were chained to was small and uncomfortable. The soldiers sat at your side, each one of them keeping their sword at the ready.
Twilight say across from you.
“Twilight?” you croak, “Where are you taking me?”
She looks at you with teary eyes. She gives you a weak smile as if to say, “Don't worry.”
You feel the chariot begin to descend at an alarming rate. Almost as if it was in total free fall. You grit your teeth and hold on tightly to the wrists rests. 
It breaks through the cloud line, revealing the land below. You look out the windows and take the landscape in awe. Rolling planes stretch out as far as the eye can see. A small mountain range comes into view. And a beautiful city rests atop it's peak. Hundreds of small buildings become nestled within each other. They give way to small water canals that run along the length of the city and empty into the valley below. And at the top of it all, you spot a castle that overshadows the rest of the city.
It's white walls gleamed against the black mountainside. And as the chariot descents, the castle becomes more distinct. Acres of green land surround the castle. The grounds are painted with rich colors thanks to it's flower gardens.  There are several statues and villas set around the grounds.
The chariot makes a hard landing. The soft smell of flowers wafts into your nose. Atop this mountainside-castle, the a gentle breeze brushes against your skin. It's soothing.
But the experience is short lived. You're forced from your seat and pushed out of the chariot. You stumble out and fall straight onto the lawn. The soldiers shouts something at you. His voice is coarse and demanding. But it sounds all too familiar. You glance over to him
A snow white stallion with deep blue hair. His golden clad armor is just slightly different from the rest of the guards. The ranking officer. You look him in the eye. His stare is cold and soul-less. His expression is grim, and his disgust of you is more than apparent.
His cold glare reminds you much of the enemy. The Stovie bastards that ruined your life. 
He barks another order at you. You clench your fists. What you wouldn't do to give this bastard a piece of his mind. He kicks in your ribs.
Twilight comes to your side. She helps you to your feet. She tugs at your clothes and leads you to the castle's main door. They swing open, and you feel a sharp prod against your back as the soldier leads you in.
The chains on your legs are short, forcing you to take baby steps. A soft dragging sound echoes throughout the castle as the rusty chains scrape along the polished marble floors. You take note on how truly magnificent the castle it. It looks like it's been taken straight out of a fairy tale book. And as you're led down the halls, it become apparent the castle was built and maintained by only the finest artisans.
Marble statues are lined along every hallway. Beautiful paintings stretch as far as the eye can see. And almost every window you come across is a stained glass masterpiece.
Your watch beeps twice. Noon.
The sun has risen high over the horizon. And the colored light from the stained glass shines on the floors and walls. They catch your eye. Each one of them depicts ponies in several scenes. You notice one thing in most of the windows.
They all feature ponies who have an uncanny resemblance to Twilight and her friends. Is it really her? You slow down your stride in order to get a better view. And that's when you notice the identical tattoos across their flanks.
The solider shouts something before prodding you with his sword, urging you to pick up the pace. You glance back at the window, but you're sure of it. It's Twilight.
Your mind races with thoughts and speculations. Is she royalty? Is she some kind of hero? Perhaps she's a figurehead or royalty around these parts?
Where have they taken you? And why are the guards so hostile?
You mind wanders even more as you traverse the castle. But eventually, the party stops. You note the increased tension at this point. Before you sits a large pair of doors. They are masterfully carved with a sun and moon insignia across each door. They become enriched with a rich white aura before swinging open. Twilight tugs at your clothes and irks you ahead. The rest of her friends step inside.
You enter a huge hall adorned with statues, flags and tapestries. There are dozens of support beams running along the walls in a roman style. Each one of them gives way to another stained glass piece.
You attention is drawn to the center of the room. Two large thrones are placed adjacent to each other. One is a bright white, and has a sun insignia across it. And other is a deep blue with a crescent moon.
A large white horse is seated on the white throne. Upon your entry, her eyes opened in awe. You can just feel her gaze travel across every inch of your body.
Her coat is as white as snow. Her mane wafts effortlessly throughout the air. All while displaying an ever changing array of colors. The way her mane flows reminds you of the northern lights. Simply put, it's beautiful.
As you exchange glances, you notice more about you. Her golden crown and matching jewelery is a dead giveaway to her royalty status.
She stands from her throne, and as she does every other pony in the room takes an immediate bow. The officer whips the blunt edge of his blade across you legs once more, forcing you to take a knee. He shouts an order to you, and thrusts his hoof into yours ribs. You grunt in pain as you stumble to the floor.
He grabs you by the collar and pulls you close to his face. He barks orders so loud, it leaves your ears ringing. You shoot him a dirty glance.
Everything about him angers you. His attitude. His stupid face. And above all, that smug grin on his face. You clench your fists.  You should have killed him in the library when you had the chance. 
You spit in his face. Instantly, he drops you and steps back in disgust. Almost stricken with disbelief, he wipes his face and draws his sword.
You hear the distinct 'whoosh' as his blade cuts through the air. You clench your teeth and await the incoming blow.
…
…
…But it never arrives.
You open your eyes, only to see the blade hovering a few inches from you face. It's enveloped in a rich white aura coming from the royal pony's horn. She points to the door and dismisses the guards. Her voice, soft and serene, echoes throughout the hall. It's sweet sound is soothing, and vaguely reminds you that of your mother's. The soldier sheathes his sword, and gives you one final look of disgust before exiting the room.
Twilight rises from her bow to step forward. She exchanges conversation with the royal. To which her friends join in as well. And although you can't understand their language, the conversation's tone keeps you on edge.
You hear your name tossed around a few times.
And throughout the conversation the royal pony keeps her eyes locked on yours. She breaks he line of sight to step forward. She helps you up on your own feet, and for the first time, you see her eye to eye. She stares deep into your eyes as you do to her.
You find empathy and compassion within.
Her horn glows a rich white aura as she undoes your shackles. They fall to the ground with a heavy thud. She smiles as you thank her.

Your force of habit tells you to express your gratitude with a handshake.
As you try to step forward, you lose your balance and fall to the ground. You look to your feet, and find them enveloped in a purple aura coming from Twilight's horn.
“W-What the hell?!” you shout
Your caught off guard and and yellow pegasi pick you up and grab you by the arms. The pull your arms away from each other and hold you steady in place. A heavy electrical crackle catches you attention.
You glance forward to see the royal pony approaching you. Her horn fizzing with raw energy. As she approaches, you feel an unbearable heat coming from her horn. It starts to burn the skin on your face.
“No!” you desperately shout. You pull your arms in every direction, trying desperately to free yourself.
“Twilight!” you shout, “T-Twilight! You don't have to do this.”
You continue to beg and plead. But she heads you no attention. And instead she glances away, too ashamed to make eye contact.
“Twilight! Please! I-I'm sorry! Twilight!”
The electric crackle intensifies. One of the sparks from the horn brushes against your skin. Instantly, a surge of pain courses through your body. You belt out in pain as your body convulses. You struggle even more. So much, that the orange, pink and white ponies had to hold you down as well.
The royal pony touches her horn against your forehead.
Pain. Unimaginable pain.
It felt as though she was drilling a hole through your skull. You struggles leave you pinned on the floor. Your feral shouts of desperation echo throughout the silent halls. Surely, sending a chill down their spines.
Your body convulses for a moment before going limp. Your vision blurs. Your hearing fades. And soon, all pain is non-existent. Your senses have been muffled. But you're not dead.
No.
This time, you've simply been left with your thought. Left in the shell of your body, you're free to wander your thoughts. But even within the deep confines of your own mind, you find you're not alone. You feel a surge of emotions, thoughts and ideas. Those that do not belong to you. You feel a second presence in your mind.
It's the royal pony.
'Celestia'. You think to yourself. 'Her name is Celestia'

You suddenly feel your deepest memories unlock and replay themselves before you. Starting with your earliest memories, they play out like a movie before you. She's reading you, like a book.
You try to fight it, but it's no use. Her grip is too strong, and you can't shake her.

She starts from the very beginning. With the earliest of childhood memories. There, your life plays before you like a movie on fast forward.
You relive your most memorable moments.
You see yourself wandering the halls of your first school. Alone and confused.
The sounds of your first girlfriend fills your ears. You remember your easier days with her, promising her eternal love. You remember taking her to the high school prom and making love with her the first time that night.
Soon after, you recall your graduation. 
You remember your young easy going lifestyle. One full of hope and joy.
You recall all those years spent with close family and friends. Everyone you once held close to your heart. Hearing the voices of your late loved ones echo in your ears once more. You parents. Your family. Your friends. 
Oh, how you miss them so.

She gets closer and closer to the end of your life.

And that's when things took a turn for the worst. You recall the war. Your brother's in arms. She sees everything you've seen. Everything you've done. It all comes back to you, leaving you with a surge of unbearable misery. She show interest here, and slows her search.
You recall the brutal invasion of your home. The crumble of your country, culture and very way of life. Honestly, it's painful to think of everything that once was. Everything near and dear to you, gone. Stripped right from your grasp.
You still can't bring yourself to accept those terms. For what those bastards did was simply unacceptable. Women and children were slaughtered in the streets. Men were taken as prisoners, only never to be heard from again. Families were torn apart. It was horrible.
It wasn't long before your memories took you to your last days on earth. Those last hours in the dead of night. Fighting to make the final push for your freedom. It all plays back in vivid detail for the royal pony to watch. 
Getting cornered on the bridge. Losing all your comrades. Getting shot. And finally making the ultimate sacrifice.
You don't know whether your actions were in vain. You didn't live to see the end of the war. True, your actions may have been brutal. Inhumane even. The entire ordeal may have been pointless. But at least you fought in something you believe in.
You memories fade. You feel strange. You can feel Celestia digging through your mind. But this time, she's not reading or skimming. This time, she's adding information. Names. Languages. Information. It's a strange sensation that only lasts for a few moments. And as soon as she finishes, she releases her grip on you.
One by one, you regain your senses. But you still feel weak. You hear voices.
“Will he be alright?”
“Ah' hope so.”
“Celestia! W-What happened? What did you see?”

Your eyes squint open for just a second, long enough to see the Twilight and White Unicorn hovering over you.
'No.' you think to yourself. 'Her name is Rarity.'
“Anonymous?” Twilight asks, “Can you hear me?”
“He looks pale.” Rarity adds. “Are you sure he'll be alright?”

Your vision blurs.
You drift off.