//------------------------------// // Epilogue // Story: A Kingdom Divided // by Samey90 //------------------------------// Canterlot, 3rd May 1010 after Discord. “So, that’s why I think a war such as the one five years ago will not happen again,” the green mare said to the audience. “Thank you for your attention. Any questions?” Of course there were questions. Emerald was answering to them quickly. Before the lecture she was very stressed and, in fact, forgot to use the toilet. Now it was getting to her. Trying not to think about it, she focused on the audience. It consisted mostly of young philosophy student who decided to attend the conference for some unknown reason. There were also a few older ponies. Emerald knew some of them from the university. Professors and their boring theories about war. She didn’t tell anypony about that, but she’d experienced it first-hoof and she liked it. There was a pony in the audience who stood out among the others. Emerald couldn’t help but look at her. It was a violet pegasus mare with blue and white mane, styled in some crazy fashion. She was wearing a khaki shirt and sunglasses. It bugged Emerald – for some reason she didn’t like ponies who wore sunglasses indoors, unless they were blind. The mare, however, didn’t look like she was blind. She was staring back at Emerald, her expression seemingly indifferent. Her muscles, however, were tense, as if she was readying herself to fly away. Emerald finally answered to the last question. She thanked the audience one more time and quickly left the lecture hall. She left her notes in the back-up and trotted to the bathroom. Just when she entered it, a strange pegasus walked behind her. “Excuse me,” she said, “I wanted to ask a question…” “You had time after the lecture. I’m sorry, but I really need to…” She went to the stall and closed the door behind her. When she finished and left the stall, the strange pegasus was still waiting for her. Her expression was no longer indifferent. Instead, she was smirking at Emerald. It wasn’t a pleasant smirk and for a moment Emerald thought about teleporting out of the bathroom. Before she could do that, the mare spoke. “You seem to know a lot about the causes of wars…” she said. “Years of studying.” Emerald wanted to trot to the door but the mare was blocking them. “Well, I have no doubts, Emerald…” “How do you know my name?” Emerald asked, annoyed. “You could at least take these glasses off, if you really need to talk with me so badly…” “I’d say we have some friends in common. Perhaps you know Vinyl Scratch…” “Who?” Emerald suddenly froze. That name certainly rang a bell, but she couldn’t put her hoof on it. She didn’t like the tone the mare used when she mentioned it. “You don’t remember her? Too bad. I’d say she’s hard to forget. But she’s not the only pony we both know…” Emerald suddenly felt a sharp pain in her ears. Two loud explosion echoed through the bathroom, deafening her. Too focused on it, she didn’t notice the warm wave spreading in her chest, soon followed by coldness. “Rainbow Dash sends greetings…” the mare said. She was holding a gun in her hoof. The air smelled of cordite. Emerald looked down on her chest. To her surprise, she saw two burned holes in her white shirt. For a moment she felt angry – she bought it only recently, after she learned that she’d make a lecture during that conference. After a second, she realised that the shirt was the least of her problems. Blood was dripping from the wounds, staining the floor red. Emerald didn’t feel pain. The feeling was unpleasant, but she felt strangely calm. She rose her eyes and saw that the mare was now aiming her gun at her head. “No hard feelings,” she said. “Just primitive instincts…” Another shot. The bullet left a small hole just below Emerald’s horn. It pierced through her brain with ease, smashing her skull and blowing its contents on the wall behind her. At the last moment of her life she understood everything. The last thing she saw were cyan feathers, some of them stained red, falling down on the ground. Emerald closed her eyes, ignoring the desperate attempts her mind was making to maintain integrity. She gave up, knowing that it was no use. Before she collapsed on the floor, she was dead. Cloudchaser sighed, watching the body in front of her. The red puddle was almost reaching her hooves. She thought about Rainbow Dash, who could now sleep in peace, knowing that she was avenged. Cloudchaser tried to smile, but she failed to do so. She just took other pony’s life. It wasn’t something she’d brag about. The door to the bathroom opened. Cloudchaser spun quickly, aiming her gun at a light pink mare who just entered. She froze upon seeing the dead body of Emerald spread on the tiles. Then she saw the gun and opened her mouth in a silent plea, too paralysed by fear to scream. Cloudchaser looked deep into the pink mare’s eyes. She could see her reflection in them – a hard-boiled veteran wearing a blood-stained khaki shirt. The sunglasses were obscuring half of her face; the gun in her hoof was ready to fire. She only needed to push the trigger to shut those beautiful eyes forever. Cloudchaser sighed, thinking about all the murderers she’d read about. Then, still looking into the mare’s eyes, she slowly put the gun down. “What are you waiting for?” she asked the mare, who backpedalled unsurely. “Call the guards.” Appleloosa, 5th July 1010 after Discord It was a warm and sunny day. Little Strongheart was walking to the City Hall to discuss some important matter with Sheriff Silverstar, when suddenly she saw a cream-coloured mare looking around helplessly. She immediately recognized her. Five years ago, she was among the ponies who arrived to Appleloosa from the refugee camp in Canterlot. She didn’t talk much at that time – as one of the ponies had explained to Little Strongheart, she had been mourning her friend who got killed in a battle. Little Strongheart never asked for the details. During the war, buffalos decided to remain neutral. Of course they provided help for the refugees, but they never bonded with them too much. Well, the war was over now. “Excuse me,” Little Strongheart said, “Are you looking for something?” The cream mare looked at her, startled. “Well, actually I’m looking for someone.” There was sadness in her voice; it seemed that she’d never stopped grieving since the night Little Strongheart saw her first, five years ago. “Do you know a pony called Braeburn?” Little Strongheart winced. “Of course I know him. Or at least I thought I knew him…” She was greeted with a blank stare. Apparently the mare was one of those practical, earth pony mares, who preferred to go straight to the point, without unnecessary poetics or beating around the bush. “Well, Braeburn is now in the same place as always – ‘The Salt Block’.” Little Strongheart pointed at the saloon. The mare looked at it and nodded her head. “Thanks,” she said and walked away. Little Strongheart only shrugged and trotted to the City Hall. *** The saloon was almost empty at that time of day, save from the bartender and a bright yellow stallion sitting in the corner with the bottle of whisky. His face was obscured by a Stetson hat. His long mane was dirty and his fur was covered in dust. He seemed to lose a lot of weight recently; ribs were showing underneath his skin and he looked like a strong wind could overturn him. When the mare entered the saloon, he didn’t even raise his head. She trotted to the bartender. “Excuse me, is Braeburn here?” she asked. “He’s there,” the bartender replied without looking at her. He pointed at the corner and went back to polishing the tankards. The mare trotted to the only occupied table in the saloon. “Good morning,” she said. “My name is Bon Bon. Are you Mr. Braeburn?” “Don’t mister me, ma’am,” he replied absent-mindedly and drank some whisky from the glass in front of him. “Ah don’t deserve it.” “I wanted to ask you something…” Bon Bon said unsurely. “I’m from Ponyville and–” “Haven’t been there in a while,” Braeburn replied. “How it looks like now?” “Well, almost everything was rebuilt… Only the Carousel Boutique is still in ruins. That poor Sweetie Belle doesn’t want to sell it, and she can’t afford to rebuild it.” “Who’d say…” Braeburn muttered. “The new Element of Magic doesn’t have money… What happened to this world…” He downed his glass of whisky and poured himself another one. “Well, I wanted to talk about something else… During the war, you served in one detachment with my marefriend…” Bon Bon paused and blew her nose. “Her name was Lyra Heartstrings…” For the first time during that conversation, Braeburn looked directly at her. She froze upon seeing his bloodshot, green eyes. “She’s dead,” he stated simply and took a sip of his whisky. “Yes, but… I never learned how she died… Did… did she suffer… Did she… did she say something about me…” “Ask my cousin,” Braeburn replied. “He was there too, he should know better.” “I already did. He didn’t want to tell me anything. Apple Bloom said that he doesn’t speak since the war ended. Not that he was very talkative before, but–” “Yeah, I know Big Mac. How about Black Marble?” “That unicorn? He committed suicide soon after the war. Please… I want to know… I need to know.” “Trust me: you don’t. Some things are better left unknown… Ah learned that the hard way…” He downed his whisky and looked at the now empty bottle. “B-but… Did she do something bad before she died?” Bon Bon was now sobbing openly. Braeburn watched her for a few minutes and shook his head. “No, it’s not her… It’s us. We protected her with all our might… But we failed. We couldn’t save her...” “It’s not your fault… There was a battle, and she was only a radio operator…” “Oh, Bon Bon… If only ya knew…” “But I want to know! And I don’t know only because you don’t want to tell me!” Bon Bon shouted. The bartender looked at them, seemingly uninterested. “Well, Ah can only tell ya that she died happy…” Braeburn said, carefully choosing every word. An image of that day, almost five years ago appeared in his memory. Bon Bon couldn’t hear that story. Even he didn’t want to know it. “Her last words were that she was okay… And soon she’d be even better… when she’d get to ya. Ah can tell ya, wherever Lyra is now, she surely feels better.” Bon Bon wiped her tears. She was shivering slightly. “Thank you,” she whispered. She slowly walked out of the saloon. Braeburn looked through the window watching as she went to the train station, barely containing herself from crying loud. He sighed, recalling the exact circumstances of Lyra’s death. Her empty eyes and unnaturally high-pitched voice. The bodies scattered on the snow. The gun wrapped in her magic. They all were the last things he wanted Bon Bon to know. He stood up, trotted to the bar and ordered another bottle of whisky. Zebrica, 3rd July 1015 after Discord She was exhausted. Her lungs were burning and her stomach was twisting after spending a few days in the desert. The supply of water kept getting smaller and she had no big hopes. Her wings were useless – during her travel, she spent more time hiding them than using them to fly. She had never been good at it. All she had were her hooves, her magic, and hope. Hope. She'd heard the legends. In the markets of Saddle Arabia she found apples of a familiar taste. She heard about a famous zebra shaman who came back to her village after spending years in foreign countries. In the markets of Saddle Arabia, she first heard about a village in Zebrica where, against the harsh weather, a single pony among the zebras was growing her small apple orchard. Hope. It was the only thing that mattered. Through the desert. Step by step through the dunes. Where the apples were growing. Ponyville, 13th November 1015 after Discord A bat filly jumped from the apple tree. She hovered for a few yards before landing on the grass. Apple Bloom watched her for a moment before she trotted to another tree and bucked it hard. The filly immediately ran to her, laughing. “Silver! Can ya tell her not to run here? Ah don’t want her to be hit with an apple…” “Diamond! Come here! No! No flying… Just come here…” Silver Spoon shouted. The filly ignored her, instead flapped her wings and hovered few inches above the ground. “Let her fly, Silver…” Twist, who was sitting in the shadow of an apple tree reading a book, said. “She’s learning so quickly…” “Yeah, at that pace we’ll need a leash soon…” Silver replied. Apple Bloom collected the apples and walked to them, wiping sweat from her forehead. She looked around and saw Wrench walking from the other side of the orchard, together with her two foals. Both of them, a filly called Joy and a colt called Spanner, were mules. They soon joined Diamond in the attempts to reach apples hanging from the tree. “Hi girls,” Wrench said. “Scrap Yard said dat he’s gonna finish applebucking in da west orchard soon. And I fixed yer cider-making thingy.” “Yeah, Ah saw it,” Apple Bloom replied. “Are ya sure ya ain’t Flim and Flam’s family? It now looks similar…” “Never heard of ‘em. It’s my own design.” The foals started to laugh; Diamond managed to take off the ground and was now flying clumsily around the tree, chased by Joy and Spanner. Twist and Silver Spoon got up and trotted to her. “Good for her she found a lovin’ family,” Apple Bloom said. “Though, to be honest, Ah don’t feel comfortable with a bat pony here…” She waved her hoof around, pointing at the new orchard and the rebuilt house on the top of the hill. In the distance, Big Macintosh was still bucking the trees silently. “Diamond’s only three years old… She has nothing to do with the ponies who did this…” Twist said. “C’mon, Apple Bloom…” Wrench patted her back. “Mules were involved in dat too, and ya have nothin’ ‘gainst my kids…” Apple Bloom nodded. She cracked a small smile looking at the filly who was now sitting on the branch and throwing apples to Wrench’s children. “Who knows, maybe soon we’ll ask Scootaloo to give her a few flying lessons…” Silver Spoon said. “She already knows the basics…” “By the way, where’s she?” Twist asked. Apple Bloom didn’t reply at first, watching the path leading to that part of the orchard. “Ah think Ah see Sweetie and Dinky,” she said. Indeed a few minutes later the two unicorns joined them. Dinky, the youngest of them, waved at them cheerfully. She was getting better in using her magic to power her wheelchair and even levitating herself. When Apple Bloom last visited her in the Golden Oaks Library, she was surprised with her magic prowess. Sweetie, on the other hand, sat on the grass next to Twist saying nothing. She was also living in the library, helping Dinky. Apple Bloom knew what it was about – every time she had to walk next to the burned remains of Carousel Boutique, chill was running down her spine. Luckily, recently Sweetie had it demolished and was preparing to rebuild it. “So, it seems that almost all of us are here…” said Dinky. “But where’s Scootaloo?” “I just asked Apple Bloom the same thing,” Twist said. Apple Bloom sighed. “She’s in Canterlot. You know, it’s an anniversary today…” Everypony nodded in silence. Ten years before, Rainbow Dash died attacking an airship that was going to destroy the dam and flood Ponyville. In a cruel twist of fate, it was the same day when Scootaloo got her cutie mark. “I barely see her in Ponyville…” Dinky said. “It’s like she almost moved to Canterlot…” “You know, she’s doing what her cutie mark tells her…” Silver Spoon explained. She didn’t sit with them, too busy trying to catch Diamond, who was running away from her, laughing. “Scootaloo decided to become a soldier,” Apple Bloom said. “She wants to join the same squadron Rainbow Dash was in.” “Not the best idea of her, if you ask me,” Silver Spoon muttered. “I know Equestria lives at peace since Cadance rules, but it can change soon…” “Crystal Empire…” Sweetie whispered. She shuddered visibly. “Once Cadance feels we’re strong enough, she may want to reclaim it…” Twist said. Again, they went silent for a few minutes. “And we all know Scootaloo is not the type who’d sit at home when others are fighting…” Apple Bloom said. “Ah’d say she thinks she’s Rainbow Dash or something…” “It could’ve gotten worse…” Dinky observed. “At least she found Rumble…” “Yeah, and they enlisted together… They’re both the same – you know, Rumble’s brother also died in that battle…” Apple Bloom said. Silver Spoon joined them with Diamond, who sat on the grass next to her, eating an apple. Even Apple Bloom couldn’t help but smile seeing that. Meanwhile, Wrench got up to play tag with Joy and Spanner. “You know, I keep telling Sweetie that she should find herself a coltfriend,” Dinky chuckled. “Really Sweetie, you’re so stressed recently…” “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Sweetie replied. “I’m okay. I’m just a little sick.” “Yeah, you didn’t tell me what the doctor told you yesterday.” Dinky poked her. Sweetie rubbed her hind leg unconsciously. “I’ll get better soon,” she replied. “Really, it’s nothing serious.” “Well, Ah hope ya will,” Apple Bloom said. “Ya really scared us last time…” “Don’t worry, Apple Bloom…” Sweetie smiled. “I guess even the Apples sometimes break a leg while trying to buck trees…” “Yes, but your buck wasn’t that strong… No offence. And when ya passed out…” Apple Bloom shuddered. She didn’t tell anypony, but when she saw unconscious Sweetie lying on her bed, it instantly reminded her the vision she had when she was a filly, soon after Princess Luna spoke to her. “It’s nothing. The doctor said that I have anemia, but I changed my diet, so I should get better…” “Well, good thing that you managed to heal your leg…” Dinky laughed. “One pony who can’t walk is enough…” “Yeah, sure…” Sweetie’s head drooped. Twist began to cheer her up, as she usually did, but she didn’t listen. Her friends soon changed topic, talking about little Diamond’s recent progresses, applebucking, jewellery trade, all those aspects of their everyday life. Sweetie Belle, however, remained silent. She just couldn’t tell them what the doctor said. Ponyville, 12th October 1015 after Discord “Good morning, Ms. Belle,” Doctor Stable said. “How are you feeling today?” “Still not the best. I felt so weak in the morning that I couldn’t get out of bed. And the vision in my left eye is still blurry…” She sat on the chair in front of the doctor’s desk and rubbed her hind leg. She’d used illusion to cover the shaven patch of fur in the place where she had a biopsy. She didn’t know exactly why she did this. Maybe it was because she felt that her friends were already too worried about her. “Well, I checked the results of the examinations we’d performed. First, your blood test results shown pancytopenia. It means that the level of all the blood cells is lowered. You may have passed out because of anaemia…” “So, it’s just anaemia?” Sweetie asked. “That explains why I’m so weak… I need to eat more iron, I guess…” “Well, Ms. Belle, I’m afraid it’s not so simple,” Dr. Stable replied. He looked worried and Sweetie Belle suddenly felt cold. Such a look never meant good news. “Not only the level of your red blood cells is lowered, white blood cells and platelets too. I’m afraid it’s an aplastic anaemia.” “So… it has nothing to do with the iron?” Sweetie shuddered. “Well, it usually happens when the bone marrow stops to produce the cells for some reason.” “Was that also why my leg broke?” Sweetie asked. “The bone snapped like a twig and I fainted when I tried to regenerate it…” Doctor Stable looked grim. Over the last ten years his mane went grey; now he was yanking it with his hoof. “I guess the results of the muscle biopsy will explain that,” he said. “They’re… unusual, that’s the best word I think. Most of the cells in your hind leg are dying…” “What?” Sweetie’s eyes widened in horror. She looked at her hind legs – they looked normal, just how they looked since the day the powerful wave of her own magic caused them to regrow. You practically killed yourself today... “Patients with muscular dystrophy usually have similar cells,” he explained. “It’s like they’re shutting themselves down – they stop dividing and then die.” “Do you know why does it happen?” Sweetie asked. Her voice cracked and she had to wipe her eyes. “Well… I have a theory… Ms. Belle, I’m not sure if I should continue…” “Tell me everything.” Suddenly her voice hardened. “I want to know what’s going on…” “Well, I’d have to start with a little lecture about cell biology,” he said. “At the end of the DNA of every cell there are sequences called telomeres. With each division they shorten a bit and when they’re gone, the cell can’t divide anymore. Usually, they last for the whole life.” Sweetie gasped. Suddenly, she understood everything. “So when I regenerated my legs and eye…” “I’m afraid you accidentally depleted your cells’ natural ability to divide and now it’s taking its toll… That’d explain your weakness and vision problems. We’d have to perform an OCT of your retina, but I think I know what it’ll show… That’s, however, not all… Some of your cells started to produce telomerase – an enzyme that elongates telomeres after each division.” “So, I’ll get better?” Sweetie asked unsurely. Doctor Stable looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “They can still divide, but it’s an uncontrollable process… I’m afraid you have cancer… Sarcoma, to be more precise… And probably a similar thing happens in your bones – that’s why you broke your leg…” Sweetie listened to that calmly. “How much time do I have?” she asked. “How long before...” “Well, if sarcoma didn’t start to metastasize, we can still cure you… But it won’t be easy. We’ll probably have to amputate your legs, then start chemotherapy and radiotherapy… And we’ll have to make a bone marrow transplantation to cure aplastic anaemia…” Sweetie didn’t reply at first. She thought about the long and probably painful therapy she’d have to endure. Then she thought what would her friends say. Then, the image of Dinky and her motionless legs appeared in her mind. “What if… What if I didn’t want that… If I’d want to just… just spend some time with my friends…” “Well, I usually don’t estimate…” Doctor Stable saw her expression and decided to continue. “I’d say a few months… And, I won’t beat around the bush, it’ll get painful…” “Don’t worry about that,” Sweetie said. “When it happens, I’ll know what to do…” He was surprised by the determination in her voice. For some reason, it reminded him of Fluttershy. The Element Bearers, he thought. When death is imminent, they just embrace it. “If I were you, I wouldn’t make such decision now. You should go home, talk about it with your friends…” “I don’t think I’ll change my mind, but thank you,” she replied. “Goodbye, doctor…” She stood up and left the office. When she got back to the library, Dinky and Spike were reshelving books. Sweetie Belle looked at them and smiled faintly. With the help of her magic, Dinky could easily move every object she wanted – her disability was never an obstacle. For a moment she thought about what Doctor Stable told her, but then she shook her head; she’d already lost her legs once and didn’t want to experience that again. “So, what the doctor said?” Dinky asked. “He said that I’m okay,” Sweetie replied, avoiding eye contact with her. “Did somepony ask for me when I was gone?” “Apple Bloom dropped in,” Spike said. “She invited us to the Sweet Apple Acres tomorrow. And Scootaloo was here. She’s going to Canterlot…” “Canterlot?” Sweetie asked. “I wonder what she’s doing there…” Canterlot, 13th November 1015 after Discord The inscription on the tombstone was almost completely obscured by the fresh flowers. Scootaloo didn’t have to read it – she knew it by heart. “Rainbow Dash, born 17th July 979, died 13th November 1005. A loyal friend, daughter and sister” was all it read. Scootaloo sat by the grave. “Well, Rumble and I are now getting used to fly in those new armours,” she said. “It’s a bit weird when you don’t feel the weight of the cannon, but these crystals are really cool. There’s even one that protects from bullets… Too bad, I’m still not as good in flying as Rumble… Not to mention you… But I’m really trying…” “She’d be proud of you, kid,” she heard a voice above her. When she looked up, she saw two pegasi mares. She knew them both. After her sister was arrested, Flitter became the leader of the squadron. She was wearing her ceremonial uniform and had a bunch of flowers in her hoof. The other mare was flying a bit clumsily, but no one in the Canterlot Air Base ever dared to laugh at her. Her amber mane started to go grey prematurely, but it only made her appearance more august. Lightning Dust landed next to Scootaloo and tucked her wings. There was a large scar on the left one. After the war, Lightning Dust spent almost a year recovering from her mental problems. It came as a surprise to many when she decided that she wanted to go back to the army. She passed all the psychological tests, but didn’t become a fighter again – her wing was too weak. Luckily for her, General Tungsten Heart, the head of the Equestrian Army, decided that her experience and knowledge would still be beneficial for the new recruits. When Lightning Dust was offered the position of the instructor, she didn’t have to think twice. “I saw you flying today,” she said. “Dash would really be proud.” “Thank you, ma’am,” Scootaloo replied, her cheeks red. In fact, she was a bit sick of comparisons with Rainbow Dash. Everypony who was in squadron since the Permanent Twilight War – Flitter, Snowflake, Stormfeather, Cloud Break and Cinnamon Swirl – was making them since the day she’d joined the army. Same with Spitfire, who’d become the marshal of the Air Force. “Squirt” became her callsign, even though she insisted on being called “Scoots”. Deep inside, she knew that she’d never be as good as Rainbow Dash. Her confusion didn’t go unnoticed. “I kinda know what you feel,” Flitter said. “Everypony compares me to my sister…” “How’s she, by the way?” Lightning Dust asked. “I was really shocked when she… You know, she always seemed so reasonable…” “Yeah…” Flitter nodded. She shot a nervous glance at Rainbow Dash’s grave. “Cloud Kicker also seemed reasonable, till she crashed those airships… Cloudchaser is okay, but I think soon she’ll get worse...” “What do you mean?” Scootaloo asked. “You know, I thought about what she did… I think that if I knew, I’d do the same thing…” “She’d tell you that it’s in every pegasus’ DNA or something…” Flitter rolled her eyes. “Primitive instincts or something like that… Well, even she succumbed to them…” “Well, not all the pegasi are killers…” Lightning Dust said. “Dust Devil, for example… She and Stormfeather have a foal…” Her voice faltered a bit and she looked at Scootaloo. Scootaloo knew what it was about. When she’d joined the air force, Lightning Dust still had some minor freakouts when remembering that she was among the foals accidentally bombed by her. After the first day of training they met and Scootaloo forgave her. “You were wounded. It wasn’t your fault,” she’d told her. “That’s exactly what Rainbow Dash told me…” Lightning Dust had replied. That’s probably why they started to compare us… Scootaloo thought. That reminded her of something. “You said that Cloudchaser will soon get worse…” she said to Flitter. “What did you mean?” “Don’t you know?” Flitter asked. “All appeals were exhausted. They’re gonna kill her tonight…” Canterlot, 14th November 1015 It was still dark when Cloudchaser was waked up. She looked around groggily when the light of the torch was directed on her face. She felt grumbling in her stomach – she’d decided to go crazy with her last meal and ordered a traditional griffonian dish – a spicy tripe soup, known among griffons to be the perfect cure against hangover. Princess Cadance cared well about her subjects, even those who were about to be executed; Cloudchaser was given the tripe soup, and ate it in no time. The taste was certainly interesting. Cloudchaser didn’t know about its effectiveness against hangover, as well as about the effect of the dish on her system. She didn’t think she’d ever learn about it. She knew that after the bullets pierced her body, she’d lose control over her bowels regardless of what she’d eaten before. Cloudchaser got up slowly and walked out of her cell. She thought about all the efforts Flitter made to delay her execution. First she protested against hanging. Cloudchaser actually supported that protest – that method was especially cruel for pegasi, as it involved breaking or restraining wings. The judges also agreed, but hanging was only one of the options they had in store. Whoever came up with that questionnaire, had a peculiar sense of humour, Cloudchaser thought. One day, she was simply given a piece of parchment with listed options, such as decapitation, gas chamber, or being killed by magic. For a while, she’d considered the last one. It was said to be the most reliable and least painful. However, she’d finally decided that she wanted to be executed by a firing squad. She started to walk down the corridor, surrounded by four guards. Maybe I chose it because I used to be a soldier… Or maybe it just feels right – I shot Emerald, now they’re going to shoot me… she thought. She knew how it felt to be shot – even after ten years, her leg was still aching from time to time. Sure, the bullet deflected off the armour, breaking her bone, but still it counted. Cloudchaser smirked; in her life she’d avoided many bullets. Now it was time to face them. When all the other attempts failed, Flitter wanted Cloudchaser to plead insanity. Cloudchaser protested against that. Killing Emerald was her own decision, which she made herself, being fully aware of the consequences. Definitely, she wasn’t insane. If she was, all the pegasi were. The Code. She broke it twice in her life, and each time it was connected with the will to take revenge. First time, ten years before, when she tried to strangle that poor Vinyl Scratch. And then, five years later when she’d gone to the Equestrian Philosophers’ Association conference with only one aim – to find and kill Emerald Clover, the pony who’d killed Rainbow Dash. Now it was time to pay for that. Cloudchaser got to the end of the corridor, where a group of ponies was awaiting her. She held her head high when she greeted the prison governor and a couple of witnesses. When she’d last met Flitter, she’d told her not to come, but she was surprised to find out that her sister wasn’t there. Apparently, none of the Emerald’s family members appeared either. Behind the witnesses, she saw five ponies wielding rifles – the firing squad. It was interesting that in the last moments of her life she was able to remember every detail of their appearance. Three unicorns and two earth ponies; one of the unicorns was light blue, two others were of different shades of brown; the first earth pony was green, of almost the same shade as Emerald; the other was white. Their cutie marks were connected with guns; a crosshair, a couple of bullets, a rifle, a target board and a pistol. She started to wonder how did they got them. Then she started to think if they had families; and if they had, did they had to explain to their foals what they were doing for a living. They’re probably paid extra for that… Who knows, maybe one of them will buy something nice for their kid… The prison governor, an overweight, brown earth pony wearing a fancy suit, approached her. “Ms. Cloudchaser,” he said, avoiding eye contact with her. “I… umm… if you want, we can give you some sedatives, so it’d be… umm… easier for you.” “No, thanks,” she replied. “I’m being punished here, right? You could’ve just shoot me in my cell when I was asleep, if you didn’t want me to suffer.” “Okay then…” he said. He lifted a black hood and gave it to her. So much for looking into the eyes of the firing squad… “Please, put it on…” She did as he said. She couldn’t see anything when she was led to the chamber, but she knew how it looked like. There was a layer of sandbags behind her, to prevent any ricochets. Each of the rifles was loaded by the prison official before the members of the squad could take them. There was a blank cartridge in one of the rifles, so they could feel better about killing her. Cloudchaser smirked under her hood when she heard the hoofsteps of the squad. “Any last words?” The prison governor asked. Cloudchaser heard about some convicts who prepared lengthy speeches. Some of them were still quoted in the death row of the Canterlot Correction Facility. She didn’t want to be like them. At first she wanted to say something like “I regret nothing”, but she knew it wasn’t true. She regretted many things. She regretted that she couldn’t take better care of Flitter when their mother died; she regretted that she didn’t notice when Cloud Kicker slid down the path of drugs and Prince Blueblood’s propaganda, which eventually killed her; she regretted almost killing Vinyl Scratch, who was just the first pony wearing the Moon Army uniform she’d seen after Rainbow Dash died; she regretted not flying to destroy the airship instead of her. She wanted something simple that’d fully express all her feelings. She thought about all her friends and relatives who died in various wars. Zebrica, Changeling Territories, civil war... Her father, uncle, grandfather, cousin… She thought about the late Princesses, who did everything to protect their subjects from suffering… And about those who died helping them. “Thank you, Equestria,” she said, trying not to laugh hysterically. “Thank you for making me what I am today…” She stood straight, waiting for the bullets to tear her body apart. She waited for almost a minute before she realised that something was wrong. “Excuse me, Ms. Cloudchaser,” the prison governor said. If it was possible, he was even more embarrassed than before. “There’s somepony here, who wants to talk with you…” “Flitter, for fuck’s sake…” she muttered when her hood was lifted. The pony in front of her wasn’t Flitter. It wasn’t even a pegasus. “Prince Shining Armor,” Cloudchaser said. “Do you chat with every pony sentenced to death, or should I feel flattered?” “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about,” Shining Armor replied. “Can we get out of here?” They walked out of the chamber and Cloudchaser was seated on a chair next to a small coffee table. There was even coffee on it. Apparently, the witnesses of the execution needed something to drink while watching a pony being shot. “So, what’s this all about?” Cloudchaser asked. She couldn’t believe that she was actually annoyed that she wasn’t dead yet. “Ms. Cloudchaser, as you may know, Equestria is at the edge of war again… My wife and I think that it’s time to reclaim the Crystal Empire we lost to griffons ten years ago. We’ll need every experienced soldier… Even the ones who should now be dead.” “So that’s what you propose?” Cloudchaser shouted. She didn’t care that he was a prince; the blood rushed in her veins when she continued. “You’ve probably heard my last words and you still want me to take part in the first war with the Griffon Empire that ponies are going to start? Well, if such things happen in Equestria, I’d rather be shot. Thank you for your offer, but I have to refuse. Guards! Lead me back to the chamber.” Shining Armor’s expression remained indifferent. For a moment he just looked at Cloudchaser silently. She already stood up and let the guards put the hood on her head again. “You know, your sister already said that she’ll fight for us, no matter how dangerous task we’ll give to her squadron…” Cloudchaser stopped in her tracks. So, it’d come to this. The prince of Equestria and brother of Twilight Sparkle came there to blackmail her. She felt sick and it had nothing to do with the tripe soup. If that’s how Equestria is supposed to be like, I’d really rather be dead than live to see this. But Flitter… I told mom that I’ll protect her… “Ms. Cloudchaser?” the guard asked. “Should we…” Cloudchaser didn’t reply. Thoughts were racing through her mind, but she couldn’t decide. Deep inside, she wasn’t sure if any of the choices would be good.