//------------------------------// // Horseshoes and Catapults // Story: The Siege of Castle Harmony // by AJ Aficionado //------------------------------// The Assault on Castle Harmony by AJ Aficionado ***** It hasn’t been a great year for Ponyville. I’ll admit, it rarely is what with stampedes, invasions, and all manner of magical mayhem directed at our little town. This year, however, was the absolute worst: having harmony — the very essence of my being — ripped from my body while I lay immobile in the street, painfully aware of the passage of time. I still have nightmares about the day Tirek attacked, how we were helpless against him. About the tangle of depleted bodies lying in the street, and left to rot, only spared a slow death by the efforts of Princess Twilight Sparkle. Most of the ponies fell unconscious and don’t remember anything. I was not so lucky... Why is it that we ponies find such difficulty in maintaining harmony when our very biology leads us to it? It’s one of the great ironies of our civilization that despite our efforts to seek order, we reap chaos. Yet when the inverse is applied, chaos to bring order, we dismiss the efforts as a “necessary evil.” Is my garden hoe a necessary evil as well, because the ground must yield to my will? I wish we could do away with that phrase altogether; there is evil, and there is what is necessary to survive in spite of that evil. For example, I was aiding my sister, Golden Harvest — nicknamed “Carrot Top” — in the necessary task of storing up food for the early onset of winter. I could have been out making friends, or assisting them with their work, and yet nopony calls what I’d done evil. I’ve tried explaining this to others, and the blank stare I’d get back was a good indication my sentiments weren’t shared. “Linky, we call it evil because no one should desire a state of chaos,” My Dad had told me, calling me by my nickname. ”Should ponies ever get used to chaos, we might begin to desire such a state. We would be little better than Maregolians!” I don’t consider this a bad thing in a lot of ways. Maregolians knew how to defend themselves, unlike us. Just this year we’ve been attacked by a creature who somehow escaped tartarus, and were invaded by the Everfree Forest itself. Perhaps if we enjoyed war — or its euphemism, “chaos” — a bit more, we might not be so bad at it. At the very least, we could learn a lesson or two from the Maregolians, and learn the value of ranged attacks. Doing anything at this point is preferable. I thought to myself, looking out at the ponies walking past my house in Ponyville. We’d harvested, canned food, and otherwise wrapped up winter preparations at the Ponyville Carrot Farm. With nothing left to do, Carrot Top and I were left to our own devices. I figured I’d go see what Cherry Berry was up to after brushing my mane. Retrieving my brush from the top of my dresser, I went to work on my periwinkle locks, cursing my ancestors for making them so curly. I may be a magnificent creature, but I shouldn’t have to pay for it with so much root damage. The worst of it out of the way, I moved onto my light-blue coat. Have I mentioned how amazing I look? I don’t mean to overstate this, but I am not only one of the hottest mares in town, root damage or no. Fifteen minutes later, I declared myself presentable to the public. “Celestia, I totally would,” I said aloud, standing in front of my full body mirror and gazing at the reflection of my fandango-colored eyes. As I ran one hoof down my barrel and over my right flank and two horseshoe-cutie mark — one gold, and one blue — Carrot Top chose that moment to walk inside. “You two should really close the door before you get it on,” she snarked. I stuck my tongue out at her. ”Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, little sis. It’s not my fault ponies find me irresistible. And just because I can have any stallion or mare I want doesn’t mean I’d let my little sister go without.” Carrot Top rolled her eyes. “Your ‘little sister’ appreciates the courtesy, but has more than enough assets of her own to offer a lady,” said sibling replied, punctuating her remark by giving a sensuous toss of her thick and curly orange mane. She deserves a lot of credit for keeping that mess of curls in line. I happen to know for a fact it takes her an hour of brushing to achieve that look, but credit still. She’s a real cutie herself with her carrot orange mane and tail, pale goldenrod coat, and green eyes. “Touché,” I conceded, dropping back down on all fours to address her properly. ”So what’s taking you so long anyway? There’s no shortage of mares in this town.” “I’m working on it,” she replied cryptically. “That’s not why I’m here though, we just got the pegasi weather schedule, and they’re creating their first winter storm already. A huge one, at least eighteen inches due in tomorrow.” “Three weeks before winter?” I asked. “What’s the big rush anyway? Did Cloudsdale create too much snow or something?” “Actually they did,” she replied matter-of-factly, “and they hate to waste any of it. Equestria is in for another bad one.” There’s really only one thing you can do when confronted with an early winter after a bad year: pick some snow off the ground, ball it up with your hooves, and throw it at somepony. It’s the least any of us could do to remind ourselves that we’re still alive. “Splendid! I’m heading to Cherry Berry’s to see if she’s ready for winter fun times, maybe help her build another catapult. I’m looking to expand our operation this year, and bring in some new fighters. You want to come along?” “Actually, I should go ask Lily if she wants to join our crew,” she said. “I can’t imagine she’ll have much to do this winter, and she needs to get out and mingle.” “Ah. Your latest project I take it?” I joked. “She’s not a project, Linky. She’s a friend!” she snapped, stomping a hoof down hard. I stepped back, wondering if maybe I’d gone too far. “Whoa, nellie! I was just kidding, don’t hit me!” She looked dazed for a moment, surprised at her own reaction, and smiled nervously. ”Heh, guess I got a little carried away. I just think she could stand to get a bit of fresh air. She’s really shy, and doesn’t leave the house much.” I decided to let my sister enjoy her denial for a bit longer; it was her battle anyway. “It’s okay, Carrot Top. Here’s an idea though: while you’re over there, see if you can get Rose and Daisy on board too. The more the merrier.” “Right-o, Guv’nuh!” Carrot Top said and extended her hoof for a bump. “Pip pip and tally-ho to you too mate,” I replied, completing the friendly gesture. ***** Armed with my trusty blowtorch secured safely inside my saddlebag and with the rest of the day to kill; I headed over to Cherry Berry’s house located southwest of Ponyville near the Ghastly Gorge/Whitetail Split, all the way across town. Carrot Top, meanwhile, had only to walk a quarter of a mile northeast over to Ponyville’s Flower Shop along the Ponyville-Canterlot Trotway. “Why walk when I can gallop? I need the exercise anyway,” I thought, bolting off down the road, fully intending to make the trip without slowing down. The trip through Ponyville was uneventful, to say the least. No disasters, no stampedes, not even a dance number. There’s really nothing that can wreck a schedule quite like a dance number from Pinkie, or any of the other ponies in Ponyville. One minute you’re on the way to work, and the next you’re singing along with the rest of the town. It’s even a valid tardy excuse at the carrot farm. Thankfully, I’m not on a schedule today, and Pinkie Pie is at work. Nearing the fork in the road, my lungs ready to burst from the cold air cutting through them; I slowed to a leisurely canter. I made a mental note to run every day after that, realizing my filly days were long past. In the distance, the slightly rusted facade of Cherry Berry’s house/workshop came into view. Even at a distance, Cherry Berry’s Shop stuck out amongst the bucolic setting: an “L” shaped, all-metal, flat-roofed structure, divided into living quarters and machine shop. A large, fold-up hangar door where the machine shop was located, faced the road. I noted with some interest the door was partially open. I walked up to the hangar and slipped under the door. No need to be shy when my best friend is involved. Setting down my saddlebag, I noticed her pink and purple pedal-copter resting on the hangar floor. It’s always been a curiosity for me to see Cherry Berry, the complete antithesis of all things adorable and precious, design the most saccharin and girlie looking piece of machinery ever witnessed by ponykind. The fuselage was shaped like a cherry — after her cutie mark — with the stem connected to a heart-shaped tail rotor with a pastel blue-and-yellow flower decal. Even the entry ports were shaped like a heart. I’ve known Cherry Berry ever since my first day of school. And yet, looking upon the monument to fillydom she designed and built herself, I’m reminded that there’s still more to discover. The sound of hoof clops caught my attention as she jumped down from inside the cockpit onto the concrete floor. Taking note of my saddlebag on the floor behind me, the hot pink-coated mare smiled, brushed her messy blonde mane away from her face with one hoof and fixed me with her beautiful purple eyes. “I really hope you didn’t come all this way just so you could build some more catapults. Is that all your best friend is good for anymore? Spare parts and labor?” she teased. I slowly moved forward to close the gap, speaking in my sultriest voice. “Don’t be silly, Cherry. You’re also a great kisser.” “Years of practice does wonders for a mare,” she replied casually, closing the remaining distance between us until our muzzles nearly touched. “So what are you here for Linky?, Business or pleasure?” “Why not both?” I asked running one hoof down the crest of her golden mane and drew her into a slow, practiced kiss. We’ve been doing this for over sixteen years, and every instance it’s meant something special to us both. We’ve been through countless heat cycles together and kept each other going through droughts between stallions. We never talk about it with others, but we suspect a lot of mares are doing the same thing we’re doing to get by. How could it be otherwise with such a disproportionate ratio of mares to stallions? This encounter was no less special than the last, and after an affectionate nuzzle, I gestured toward the flying machine. “Need a hoof with that?” “That’s very sweet, Linky, but she’s all fixed up. I was just re-attaching the drive chain when you walked in.” Cherry Berry pointed at the long length of heavy-duty bike chain that ran up a column behind the pilot’s seat and connected the pedals to the two rotors. A wheel extended out to within reach of her forehooves to allow her to steer. It was an ingenious feat of engineering, though it was doubtful a non-earth pony would possess the endurance to keep it in the sky for very long. “I added an arcane gem booster to assist during take-off and slow my descent in the event of a mechanical failure. Come take a look!” I climbed up inside of the pedal-copter and noticed the long, rod-shaped blue gem. It was stuck inside what looked like a gearbox in a forward-neutral-reverse configuration. I stopped for a moment to appreciate the fact that nearly this entire aircraft had been forged from scrap metal and labor. No doubt the gemstone system she was employing used copper wires as well. Cherry Berry may be one of the greatest minds of our time, and yet this beautiful and talented mare is stuck working in a scrapyard. “Thank the goddesses you’ve finally installed a safety feature in this thing Cherry, I don’t know what I’d do if your love for the sky finally did you in.” “Linky, are you saying you’d die an old nag without me? How sweet!” She brought her hoof to her head in a dramatic fashion I’d sworn I’d seen somepony use before. “Let's get married now while there is still time!” That mare can really overdo it on the hyperbole. “Let's not call the caterers just yet, Fruity Booty; I’m sure we both have a few good years left.” Cherry’s expression darkened momentarily, but just as soon as I’d noticed it, she was her old self again. “Don’t worry about it, Linky. Besides, I’d hate to have to dress up for all that nonsense anyway.” “It wouldn’t kill you to brush your mane for once,” I observed. “What can I say? I prefer the au naturel look.” She ran her hoof through her mane. “It’s always worked on you anyway,” she added with a seductive whisper in my ear, which she gave a gentle nibble. The stirring in my loins was confirmation of that. “Point taken.” We started to kiss again when Cherry’s head bumped the roof of the aircraft. “Ouch! Not the best place for this huh?” She winced and rubbed her head. I nodded. We both jumped out of the flying machine and started to walk around her hangar. She had all manner of equipment jammed inside of the long, metal building. Her pedal-copter took up the center of the room, along with a jack to let her pull it out of the hangar before takeoff. On the left wall of the hangar she kept spare parts and other bits of scrap, along with a barrel of industrial lubricant, in case she needed help to fit them in. The right wall contained most of her unicorn-manufactured machine tools: a drill press, diamond-tipped table saw, tool chest with all of her various ratchets and widgets and who knows what else. The back wall contained jars of paint, cleaners, and wood stain, all clearly labeled and organized on shelves. “You must be pretty excited about the snowstorm, eh?” Cherry Berry asked. “Just picture it, Cherry; everypony in town lining up to get a chance to blast each other with snow fired from an ancient, medieval siege weapon. “How amazing is that?” I squealed gleefully. “Linky, you’re the only pony I’ve ever heard of who dreams of returning to the age of catapults.” Cherry replied with a sardonic grin. “So… before we declare war on Equestria and force all of the stallions to plow our fields, where do we start?” She can be a sarcastic little pony sometimes. “I was thinking of challenging our dear friend Sea Swirl and her gang to a duel. I want to test out Genghis Hoof’s ‘unicorn turret hypothesis’.” “That sounds ludicrous and mildly racist, but go on!” Cherry snarked. “Well the premise is that unicorns evolved to be defense-minded from reliance on their horn magic to the point of relying on fixed positions, even when a suitable line of attack is presented,” I explained calmly, ignoring her jab at the great warrior’s teachings. “A lot of this is in our nature as ponies: we don’t fight unless provoked, and have never fought an aggressive war. The addition of horn magic that works best at range exaggerates our own passive nature into a tactical weakness.” “I guess that isn’t too far-fetched,” Cherry reasoned. ”How is this a tactical weakness though? It seems like an intelligent use for an attribute.” “Being a turret is a wonderful thing against a slow-moving enemy from a fortified position,” I explained, “but outside of fortifications, they are vulnerable to the maneuvers of a bold and decisive attacker. Even within a defensive position, they can be corralled inside of it, and taken by siege or simply starved out.” “Like Genghis Hoof right?” she asked rhetorically. “Exactly. With some help from Carrot Top’s friends, I think we’ll have enough for an all-Earth Pony squad to demonstrate the Maregolian Overmare’s teachings without anypony having to die,” I said optimistically, counting on Carrot Top to come through for me. “Are you not merciful? And what words of wisdom does she have regarding the Pegasi and their ability to fly over our heads and bomb us into oblivion?” Cherry asked, giving me a good-natured poke in the side. “Find concealment and pray for a swift death,” I admitted sadly. “Genghis Hoof never did figure out a way to combat an aerial foe. The Griffons made quick work of the Maregolian hordes in the western theater of war, and slowly pushed them back. Attacking from cover is probably your best bet. Then there’s asking your friend at the junkyard to build you a pedal-copter, but Genghis wasn’t lucky enough to have one of those.” “You’re too sweet Linky! She smiled and nuzzled me again. “It feels good to know my trash is appreciated.” “Nothing you make is trash, Cherry. Speaking of trash, do you have an old cart lying around that you don’t need?” I asked. “Everything we need should be out back Linky. Let's see if we can get this one built in less then eight hours shall we? We have important business to attend to —” she gave my ear a quick nibble “— inside!” We ended up building it in less than six. Motivation does wonders for the mind, and Cherry Berry does quite wonderful things for the body. After settling on another simple all-wood mane-gonel designed catapult, I did the easy work of hammering the joints while she handled the restraining rope, pulleys, and torsion bundle. I wanted to weld a spiky steel grill to the front of it, but Cherry assured me there was no way I was getting laid if she had to waste time fortifying a piece of equipment intended to launch snowballs. We settled on painting it blue and green, with the earth pony motto — fortitudo de terra — painted in black against a brown background along the beam holding the bucket. With the business of war attended to and most of the day over, Cherry let me stay for dinner. And dessert too, of course, which we enjoyed in her room. It was nightfall before I set out from Cherry’s place, towing my crude and lovely piece of artillery behind me. “I never did get to use my blowtorch,” I groused to no one in particular. High above me, the pegasi were already hard at work piling up the clouds; the snow was already beginning to fall, illuminated by the light of the full moon. Cherry wanted me to stay and keep her warm for the night, but I already felt my hooves begin to slip on the frozen precipitation walking uphill. I couldn’t imagine this walk being any easier in the morning. Finally making it home, I collapsed on top of my bed, burrowed under my covers and didn’t move again until daylight. ***** It was a slow start that morning. The Pegasi had been as bad as their word, and Ponyville was buried up to its knees in snow. When the sun finally crept out from behind the cloud cover of the previous night’s storm, the glow of pale-white light shined rudely through my window, and into my eyes. I got out of bed shivering, and staggered half-asleep toward the smell of coffee. Not only was Carrot Top awake and preparing breakfast, but she’d already bathed and brushed! I’ll never understand early-risers. “Top-o-the-mornin’ to you Linky! That’s a nice catapult you got there,” said Carrot Top. “Garçon, coffee!” I demanded, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Carrot Top brought over a cup and placed in front of me, “Garçon means ‘boy’,” she replied, gently patting my head. “I knew that,” I grumbled, feeling now stupid as well as tired. I took a gulp from the steaming mug, and within seconds I felt like I could walk through walls. That was some powerful stuff! “So how did things go with the Flower Trio yesterday?” “Excellent, all three of them are looking forward to having something to do this winter. Lily was a bit reluctant, but with a bit of patience I was able to win her over.” Carrot Top said, pouring some batter onto the griddle to make pancakes. I thought about asking her if patience involved a good rutting, but the loss of pancakes in exchange for embarrassing my sister was too great a price. Also, she can hit pretty hard for such a sweet-natured pony. “I hope she holds out once the snow starts flying, Sea Swirl doesn’t pull any punches, and neither does her gang.” “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She just needs a firm hoof to guide her.” She replied before carefully flipping the pancakes. Okay, she’s doing this on purpose now. All the filthy humor in Equestria, and I can’t put any of it to good use. Curse you delicious pancakes! “So how’s Cherry Berry doing? Keeping out of the hospital I hope.” Carrot Top scooped up a stack and deposited them onto a nearby plate. “She’s doing great.” I replied remembering at that moment to go get the butter and syrup. “She designed her own emergency landing system with the help of arcane technology.” I placed the butter and syrup onto the table and sat back down. “Can you imagine if we were able to develop our own source of energy? Cherry would be able to create machines without having to resort to magic at all.” Carrot Top shrugged,”I guess that could be useful. Why not just use the magic we already have though?” An image flashed through my mind of ponies lying defenseless in the street, too weak to even cry out for help. “I guess you’re right,” I lied, wiping tears from my eyes. “You alright there sis?” Carrot Top looked down on me from above her plate of pancakes. “Yeah, just still a little sleepy is all. I was thinking, since you took care of breakfast, I’d dig out the yard so we can get out of here.” I figured a quick change of discussion would get me out of trouble. “Thanks, Linky. Do you need any help?” “Nah I got it.” I gave her my best attempt at a winning smile and spent the rest of breakfast in silence. By the time I finished shoveling the walkway, I was more than ready for a hot bath. Finding my towel and everything ready to go when i got in — thanks to Carrot Top — I got to work on cleaning myself up. I had the opportunity to bathe back at Cherry’s, but another one couldn’t hurt after the long walk home. Toweling off, I stood in front of the mirror once more and gave my mane a once-over; a much easier job when it’s still wet. “Would you rut me, mirror me? I’d rut me. Rut me so hard. I bet you dream about me when I’m away don’t you? I bet you wait for me to drop my brush so you can take a look at what you can’t have.” I turned away from the mirror kneeling my forehooves and shifted my tail to the side to show what my mother gave me. “Are you happy now, mirror me?” “Oh for the love of Celestia’s solar mareheat, Linky!” Carrot Top called to me through the door. “You’re going to make me throw up!” “Sorry! Uh, leaving now!” I bolted from the bathroom, got dressed for the weather, and went outside, my cheeks hot enough to melt any snow that came in contact. ***** The roads were mercifully clear by the time I got done bathing, and traffic was moving again. It was time to show Sea Swirl and her magic-using friends what these hooves can do. I saw her and three of her friends in their usual haunt, near the west bank of Saddle Lake, using their levitation to hurl snowballs at each other. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when I got there. I’ve challenged plenty of earth pony teams — a common sight on the southside of Ponyville — and I’ve seen seen unicorns go snowballing with earth ponies, but never challenged an all-unicorn team. Part of it is politics as conflict amongst the races is seen as distasteful, but a lot of is just timidness on our part. They have the magic and we don’t. Not this year, I’ve had enough! I’ve seen a mare build a flying machine, so I know we can fly. I’ve seen a stallion so powerful, he ripped a house of its foundation, so I know we have magic. We are good enough, and we’ve earned this. Trudging closer through the deep snow, I could make out the four of them clearly: Sea Swirl, with her lilac coat and two-toned iris/glaucous mane and tail; Twinkleshine, with her her ivory coat and pink mane and tail; Sparkler, with her pink coat and two-toned violet/lavender mane and tail; and Minuette, with her Maya blue coat and periwinkle/blue mane and tail. “Hey, Linky! Did you come here to play with us?” said Twinkleshine. The other three waved. She’s such a sweetheart. I suppose that’s to be expected with a name like that. “Actually, Twinkle, I was thinking about trying something a little different this year. I’m putting together a crew of earth ponies, and we wish to challenge your group to a battle on this field.” Sparkler and Sea Swirl looked at each other in stunned silence. Minuette gave a nervous smile and started absentmindedly smoothing out her mane. Twinkleshine, who lacked any sort of emotional filter whatsoever just looked at me like I was sentenced to be banished to the surface of the sun. Sea Swirl walked over to me slowly, and put what was surely intended to be a comforting hoof on my shoulder. “Linky, I’m sure you girls are great, but we’re used to using our horns to throw. I — I really don’t think it would be fair…” “Nonsense!” I exclaimed, putting a hoof around her shoulder in turn, ”We feel the terms for a battle are more than fair: we have our strength and good looks, and you have your horns.” Sparkler rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not going to propose any restrictions on our magic? Not a single one?” “Well, we would appreciate it if you didn’t using any homing shots, but we won’t hold it against you if you slip up and use one or two,” I replied. The mares all glanced at each other, quickly reaching the same conclusion. “This has to be a trick Linky. What are you planning anyway?” Sea Swirl asked, pointing an accusing hoof at me. “The only thing we are planning to do is to use our hooves to the fullest, and win if we’re able,” I said plainly, wondering if they would pick up the hint. The four of them talked amongst themselves for a moment, nodded and Sea Swirl addressed me once more. “We agree to your terms. As a gesture of goodwill, we will also refrain from using homing shots. Be warned, our goodwill will go no further, and we won’t hold back! We will meet on this field in two days at one o’clock.” “I expect no less than your best effort, Sea Swirl. Good luck,” I said and took a bow. The four of them walked off and resumed their play. I looked over the battlefield and — not surprisingly — I noticed conjured pillars of ice sticking out of the ground. On either side, a trench and a target that needed to be struck to end the fight. The pillars were large enough around to shield a pony from a frontal attack, and staggered to slow down a charge. A set of defenses that would give the most dedicated attacker pause. Unless those attackers were crazy enough to ride on each other’s backs...