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// Prologue: One Week Before Invasion 
// Story: An Equestrian Freedom 
// by FullMetalFurbee 
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Oceans of rocky plains stretched in every direction. The entire land was a canvas populated by sparse rocks and the occasional weed. A single light shone on the plains - a small campfire belonging to two eager travelers. They sat in the wee hours of the morning with their eyes turned toward a city far off on the horizon. The stone city sat proudly at the cliff-side vestibule where the land and sea merged. An environ of impressive walls stood around the imposing metropolis and the buildings themselves seemed to scrape the edge of the sky. 
The two earth ponies sat outside their tents and admired the capital in all its grandeur. The first voyager shivered and turned to the other. 
“It's almost dawn, ya know. We should get movin' soon,” he said in his native tongue. He was an older stallion who sported a leather tunic and a hoof-stitched cap. His coat was a faded tan and his mane dark chestnut.
“Think we'll make it by the end of today?” the other traveler asked. He was the color of mint and significantly younger than his counterpart. A scruffy goatee hung from his chin and his copper mane fell in shaggy clumps.
“We certainly might, if we hit the road right away,” said the elder. “Get up and pack the tents.”
“You do it! Ya ain't that old!” the boy quipped back.
“Cian, pack up the tents or I'm gonna mug ya and throw your sorry hide in a ditch!” the older pony jokingly warned.
“Yeah yeah, Granddad. You and your hollow threats.” Cian climbed to his hooves and shed his thick blanket. He began dismantling the tents but cried in dismay as a rogue gust whipped the fabric out of his grasp. His grandfather chuckled at the unexpected blight. Cian recovered the tent and shivered. “Stupid wind.”
“You know what that means?” asked his grandfather.
“What?”
“It's the wind of change. A new beginnin' is comin'.” 
Cian smiled and shook his head. “That's one stupid cliché if I ever heard one. Way to be original. I guess you're right, though. Feels good, don't it?”
The elder stood and collected his supplies. “Feels amazin'. Comin' back to Wintershore has been a dream of mine for years.”
“I don't blame ya! Why did ya leave, anyway? I'd have loved to grow up in the capital. Maybe I wouldn't have been such an antisocial laggard,” Cian theorized.
Granddad finished securing his luggage and hefted it onto his back. “Bah, you're fine. Give yourself more credit, boy. As for the business of me leavin', that's just life I suppose. One thing led to another and I just couldn't stay. It ain't an interestin' story.”
The two trotted toward the dirt road into the city. 
“You're lyin',” said Cian. “I'm gonna force the real reason outta ya one of these days. Until then, I'm just glad we made it this far.” He stretched dramatically and followed at his granddad's lead.
“How many years?” asked the elder.
Cian felt like he had sand under his eyelids.“Eh?” he grunted.
“How many years did ya work, again?”
He took in a deep breath and attempted to recall. “Oh boy. At least six. Jeez. Six years just to scrape up the dough to move here.”
“Hah, about time too,” the elder proclaimed. “I ain't gettin' any younger.” 
They hit the edge of the road and adjusted course accordingly.
“Ya coulda' worked too, Granddad,” Cian pointed out. “Instead of relyin' solely on your poor grandson to pay your way in.”
Granddad snorted at the accusation. “Oh really now? What kind of profession would I have taken up? Beer tastin'? Ain't much else I can do anymore!”
“Good point,” said Cian. “Plus, ya got a terrible taste in beer. Scratch that option out.”
“I'm gettin' tired of your little quips, boy. One more word and I'll roll ya a real thrashin'!” Granddad threatened, shaking his hoof in agitation.
“I love ya too, Granddad. Hollow threats and all,” said Cian with a smile.
The old pony withheld his senile temper and tried to appreciate his good fortune. “I am proud of ya, boy. Honestly. It takes real character to earn your way in life. I know a lotta' folks who'd sell their soul for much less than you've achieved.”
On the two walked. The city never quite seemed to draw any closer.
“Thank ya. Means a lot to me, really,” Cian said.
“Of course. I mean it.”
“I know, Granddad.  I'm glad to hear it. Ain't no other pony I'd rather hear those words from.”
The tan stallion put his hoof around his grandson's shoulder. “You're growin' into a damn fine lad. Your parents would be proud if they could see ya today.”
“Aye, I wish they could.”
The infant sun had begun to cast its first radiant beams across the land. The dusky stones of Wintershore's ramparts glinted opulently in the distance.
Cian kicked a rock along as he walked. “I'm just hopin' the whole city isn't swept up in all the gunk war propaganda. That's part of why I wanted to move here so bad.”
“I hope so too,” said Granddad. “I don't think it will be. The King ain't gonna let the rich or the unicorns and pegasi go off to fight. Only ones who gotta' fight are saps like us who don't live in Wintershore.”
Cian scratched his goatee and eyed his grandfather mischievously. “Not like ya gotta worry about goin' off to war yourself. You're too old.”
Granddad sarcastically faked a laugh and punched Cian's shoulder. “Let's be glad I am. Really though, I don't even know why they got a draft goin'. We got plenty of soldiers and our technology is the best in the world. When we see the King, we'll just have to ask him what the hell he's thinkin'.”
“Right. Like he'd ever show his mug in public,” said Cian with a snort. “I just feel sorry for that Equestria country. Whoever this Celestia chick is, she'd better be ready for the ordeal of her life. Musta' done somethin' real squirrely to get the King so uppity. ”
“Aye.”
The two travelers conversed idly and proceeded unto the city as the sunrise yawned behind them. Their new lives beckoned, and they were brimming with anticipation.