The Somewhere Cycle; Volume 1: "Wander and Green Brier"

by The Descendant


Chapter 2

The Somewhere Cycle
Volume 1: "Wander and Green Brier"

Written by The Descendant


Chapter 2



Green Brier:
I first meet my Bobby in a place where old rivers slice through ancient mountains.

All around are the men, the humans. They are arrayed in the formations of an army, and my old owner is one of them.

They wear the colors of smoke and earth. I guess that this is a new army…they still seem to enjoy the prospect of war far too much.

As we stroll along the lines of soldiers he wheels me about, and gives me a command. I, in that vast animal body, dip down in what I would call a bow. When my head comes back up I am looking at slight human.

With a soft voice he approaches me, and my ears perk up.

He removes his gauntlets and runs his hands up and down my nose as he speaks with my owner. His voice is soft, but when he speaks all are listening.

I am almost sad when he walks away.

He meets my owner again, and again. And each time I sense that I am more and more the topic of conversation. He refers to me as "my colt", and I am intrigued. Shall I become his horse? My owner lets him ride me. He is firm and fast in the saddle, and I bear him well. He leads by suggestion, by shifts in weight, and for the first time I get the feeling of what it is to have a good rider.

The words of the creatures, the humans, are not always easy to decipher. My animal ears do not understand them, and therefore disregard them. It is in impressions that I see the day, months after I first felt his hand on my muzzle, that my Bobby comes for me and I truly become his horse.

Bobby takes my reigns, and we walk off at the head of a long column of the smoke and earth colored soldiers, under their red flag…


Wander:
My old owner is sick, perhaps dying. He coughs and sputters all the way out to the new city.

It's not a city like in Equestria. It's big and black and dirty. Down through the middle of it flows a massive river, and along the steep banks of the river are boats. They belch black smoke, and huge wheels that slap at the water drive them.

I am stabled in a cramped stall, and as he leaves me my owner strokes me awkwardly, and then departs in tears.

That animal, the big horse that was me, is anxious. I pace in the small space the stall affords.

The next day the doors of the stall open, and the stable boy comes for me.

The boy leads me out into the yard of the, oh, I suppose it's a hotel. My old owner stands in the doorway, but I am distracted by the sounds of the city. I am let loose, but I do not bolt. I let the sounds try to scare me. None can.

I hear a whistle, my ears going alert. My head turns to the sound. A human leans on the fencepost. He has a black beard and dark, sad eyes. He wears a uniform, crumpled…dirty.

He jumps the fence, walks to me, and offers me some apple, which I take.

I pace him as he walks, he checks my gate.

He leaves my side, and I watch, wondering who this man is, what he is doing.

He returns with a saddle. The boy places it on me. He is firm in the saddle, but not overbearing, he leads with confidence, intuition. I sense that he has spent much time with horses. We are a good match, it seems. He lets me fly down the yard, and across the common.

We ride back up to the hotel, to where my old master stands coughing. He leans down out of the saddle and shakes the hand of my old master, and I realize I am now his horse.

That's how Sam and I met, and later that day…


Both:
…we begin our journey together.


Green Brier:
I came to know Wander for the first time as the Sycamore Corp was preparing for an offensive through the Gap of Tyre, just as autumn was setting in.

His division arrived a few days after Note Pad's was detached and sent off to be reformed. My staff and I were one and all anxious to be back up to the full strength befitting a corps, and to see of what quality this new division and its commander were made of.

My summoner, Jeroh, breathed a note into my presence from General Black Hat. It explained that Wander's division had arrived. Placing my helmet upon my head, very much like the one I had worn in the garden all those years before, I went out to meet him.

He was a full hand taller than me, and was a very plain looking fellow. He wore the half-plate armor of a junior officer, and apart from the stars he blended in with the countless lieutenants, captains, majors and colonels that were running about. It was only when he spoke that the power and certainty that I associated with a high officer fell over him.

We are very different and when we were formally introduced our conversation was halting and lacked commonality. It seems our only similarity is that we are earth ponies, though our different stations of upbringing are clear. I doubted that we should ever be friends, but I knew of his service, and that he was already a far, far better general than the deposed Note Pad.

His division, which I reviewed with General Black Hat, and General Golden Rod, were all fine looking fellows. They were mostly volunteer units, but well tested ones. Like their regular army counterparts in his ranks their armor is dented and patched. Scars cover flanks. These were fine fighting ponies.

I knew one of his brigadiers, General Kick Start. I was surprised how an otherwise proper officer had taken on the disheveled appearance of his commander, as all his brigadiers, and even some of his colonels. Still, I supposed, they had earned their regards. I cannot say I approve utterly of Wander's methods and discipline but…


Wander:
I met General Green Brier for the first time when mah' division crossed the fords of the River Tyre above the village of Steeplechase.

We had arrived a day early, and I reported to General Black Hat as soon as my last regiment had forded.

The pickets had been shocked when they realized I was a Major General, and they hurried me up to Black Hat's tent.

After a few words of idle conversation he called a summoner, a wyvern named Kerit, and with a breath of green fire a message went out. Within an hour generals Golden Rod and Green Brier had come to greet me.

Golden Rod I knew from a former post. We had been brigaded together in Beech Corps Second Division. We chat, but my head keeps turning to the tent flap. I wanted to see this Brier, see if he was everything everyone had said he was.

He entered in his full Major General uniform, his gentlecolt's bearing, and an air about him of calm certainty. He's a touch smaller than me, but one could hardly tell. We are both earth ponies, but I can tell he's from old money, he carries himself like a landowner. I know, though, that he's my equal…he's prepared himself for this life…he's where he's fought to be.

Just like me.

He tried to engage me in conversation, but we are worlds apart and it goes poorly.

Later, as my division was making camp, his moved by in parade formation, returnin' from maneuvers.

My soldiers dropped what they were doing, and stood open mouthed, watching.

They look like him; his division is a living portrait of Brier. They are almost all career soldiers, old army. They are muddy from their drill, but their armor was tight and shining, their helmets gleamed.

They looked like a picture book of what an army is supposed to be like. In the eyes of each regiment that passed, each giving me the "Eyes, right!" salute as they cantered by I saw the same calm look of certainty and practiced professionalism that I saw in Brier…the look of somepony who refuses to brag about how easily he could rip out your guts.

Brier and I are different, too different, and I don't think we'll ever be close…


Both:
…but Black Hat knows his worth better than I, and I will trust him.


Green Brier:
Bobby is unleashed.

We had spent weeks in a city, one farther east than I had ever traveled. It is an anxious place, and everyday more and more of the smoke and earth colored soldiers pass through. My Bobby is in charge of something, but he wants to be out there…fighting…

One day my grey haired master greets a pinched-faced man and they talk. As soon as the conversation ends Bobby saddles me up and we bolt through the city streets, more horses at our side with their riders.

We explode out into the country, out to where dust clouds rise up, and I see not one but two armies on the march.

The enemies of my Bobby are so very close to the city. I can feel the pounding of the feet of the armies in the ground, a tremor crossing miles.

For seven long days my Bobby leads his army in a string of battles. I have never heard anything like the calamity before when I was in the body of that animal, that other me. I do my best to help him, yet in that form I am so simple, so unable. Yet, I feel that he does rely on me for comfort, for strength.

By the end of the seven days of battle his enemy, whomever he is fighting, is reeling, uncertain. His has pushed them to the top of a hill below the city. This warfare is loud, specks of metal whistle through the air, buzzing like insects, and death drops its harvest around me seemingly at random.

The next morning I am saddled, and slowly, cautiously we make our way up the hill. Oddly, there is no noise. We reach the crest…and his enemy is gone, escaped down the nearby river.

I can't help but feel the excitement of Bobby's soldiers. Certainly, the city has been saved; certainly this war must be over?

But my Bobby does not agree. He is suddenly heavy. He leads me to a quiet place, and there I see in his eyes that he fears the war will go on. I could not know it then, but far worse than I had witnessed in this place is to come, and years of bloodshed and loss are to follow.


Wander:
Sam and I come across another big city. This one is dirty too, and is filled with soldiers who salute and cheer for Sam and for me as well…well, the big horse that I am in that world…in that time.

The city smells funny. It smells like soldiers, like the sea and sky colored soldiers that cheer for Sam, all of them at once.

We arrive at this big house, and there's a party going on. I am lead out back by a servant. Sam is complainin' about having to wear a good uniform. After a while a cheer goes up and I startle. As the groom calms me I realize that they are cheering for Sam, and I am happy for him, though for the love of me I can't figure out why.

The next day we come back to the big house. More noises come from within the white walls of the place, and I began to wonder exactly what type of city this is where people get so excited all the time.

As the day ends Sam comes out, and a man is with him. My ears perk up, and the man sees me. He's a tall drink of water, and at seeing me he puts his hands on his hips and looks a fright, all whilst smilin' and giving me compliments.

Sam smiles too, and I take a likin' to the man. He is an odd lookin' duck, but Sam likes him, and so I do as well.

While they talk Sam scratches my nose. Their conversation gets quiet, and suddenly the tall man looks very old, and very tired. I reach my nose out to him, and he gives me a scratch and a smile.

He nods back to Sam, and Sam says something that makes the tall man nod again. He turns away, back towards the house. I watch him go, struggling with some big old weight around his neck, it seems.

Within a few days I am out on the battlefields with Sam, and here I will see the things and know the horrors, which, unless I miss my guess, made the tall funny looking man so weary…


Green Brier:
The offensive we undertook that autumn went down in the annals of Equestrian military history.

Sycamore Corps retook all of Our Majesty's dominion lost to the barbarian peoples earlier that year. The plan advanced by Black Hat and Wander, using the hills to screen our movement and lure the Chrey into a series of flanking traps, works in spectacular fashion.

I make use of my division in the role of bait. My division knows how to retreat in good order, and in pretense of cowardice we moved off the road and up the slopes of the hills beyond.

To our enemy it appeared that we were being routed, but my soldiers were not so easily put afear'. As the Chrey columns ran down the hill, thirst of blood in their eyes, Rod's division and Wander's division streamed in from both sides of the valley. Our artillery dropped rocks, bolts, and Greek fire upon them from over our heads, and within a few minutes it is over.

We buried them in a mass grave, looked to our wounded, and then moved on to our next battlefield.

We are notified that winter is scheduled to begin and we are to return to Steeplechase. The Everfree Forest has already lost all of its leaves, and a frost has fallen. I could only hope that in the coming year, with it under the dominion of My Sovereign, that it would come under the control of our mechanizations of weather and nature.

As we make our winter quarters outside the ring of the Everfree I behold for the first time a horrific sight. As we officers stand about a fire Black Hat became quiet, and excused himself.

In a moment there was a crash, and we raced to his quarters. There he lay on the floor, his legs lashing, his hooves crashing around him, his eyes wild...his eyes rolling about.

Wander grabbed at him, called to me for help. I however was frozen in horror and shock. Golden Rod raced in and laid his head on his lap. After terrible moments Black Hat laid still, breathing heavy, trembling.

After long minutes Black Hat self-consciously asked for water. This I fetched quickly from the cistern, and I brought it to him in my own canteen.

He says little, but states that this was not his first experience with what he calls his "fits". I was silent, Wander stared at me…it was not the first time I had seen a great person put to pain…


Wander:
In the space of three months we killed more Chrey for the lowest loss of our own ponies than any other corps acting by its lonesome had since Celestia first was made to pull the sun across Equestria's sky.

Sycamore Corps puts the spurs to 'em, and by the time the first frost hit the ground we had taken back all the land they'd taken from us in the whole year before.

Brier does well, I admit. His division made a convincing portrait of a retreating army, but they spin about on their pursuers, and all it takes after that is for Rod's division and my own to enter from positions on opposite ends of the valley and the issue was, apart from some blood and gore, decided.

The best part about slaughtering your enemies utterly is that, wit' none of em' leaving to tell their compatriots, yer' free to use the same plan again. And we do.

And we used it well.

We made our way out of the Everfree Forest when the trees lost their leaves and the air turned cold. It's fascinating to me to see nature moving on it's own accord, instead of being managed by pegasi.

I don't claim to know the deep magic that drives Equestria, but I did wonder how we related to this world…was it all so random? Are we the abominations?

Anywho, we made our winter camp outside the forest, overlooking the fords we had left at the beginning of the season.

We were gathered in the large cabin built for Black Hat and visiting dignitaries, bracing against the cold. All the senior officers were there, and we sat round the fire drinking bracing liquids.

I heard a crash, and a wild horse whiny, like those I heard from wounded horses in the other life.

I raced down the hallway to find Black Hat thrashing about, his eyes wild and in fear. I tried to gather him up, keep him from hurting himself. Brier and Rod came in and I called for Brier to help, but he stood there like a statue.

Afterwards, when Black Hat is back on his feet, I looked at Brier. I wanted to be mad at him, but I see something in his eyes, a distant look. He was troubled by something beyond. He's seen something like this before, I can tell.

I've seen something like it too, a great man hurting himself, and I was unable to stop it…


Green Brier:
Bobby's army is fighting. The crack and hiss of their weapons are sounding again.

For the first time I believe I am to see the enemies of my Bobby. They are close, and Bobby is dangerously near them. Yet, it is his enemy being driven forward, and as we go down the road towards the sounds I know my Bobby is winning again. There is a long cut in the earth to our left, and I feel it is a place where they intend to put rails. Now though it is filled with Bobby's soldiers. To our right are more of Bobby's soldiers, and his best general, the one he calls Pete, is leading them.

Bobby dismounts, holds my reigns as we stand next to a ravine along the road. It is filled with the stumps of trees shorn apart by the awful artillery of this war, of this world.

At once though the other army makes a stand, crossing the road on a fill in front of Bobby and I.

For the first time I see them, Bobby's enemies, clearly. I am horrified at what I behold.

They are not monsters, they are not some demons…they are not even a different race. They are not like the enemies I fight in my current life, some people from a far off land attempting to claim Equestria for their own.

No, no they are just like Bobby's smoke-and-earth soldiers. The only difference I can discern among the haze of battle is the colors they adorn themselves with. They are the color of the ocean and a cloudless sky. They are crying the same words; they are making the same awful sound when the metal shards reach them.

It is wrong, it is horribly wrong. There must be a mistake. The animal that is me senses it…and when they rear up, attempt to stand against Bobby's soldiers, I am made fearful. I rise up, I rear, or rather the horse that I am in that life rears.

Something moves, and suddenly I am lighter, there is no one holding my reign. My eyes look to the ravine, and there is my Bobby against a stump, moaning in a heap…

No! No, please, no! I…I have thrown him! I, I have thrown my Bobby!

Pete races to him. His horse, Hero, is blocking me from my master. He tries to raise himself up, but calls out in pain. As Pete helps him up I try to get near, but one of his officers holds me back.

Around us the battle fades away. The ocean and sky colored soldiers melt away as Bobby's boys throw them forward. Bobby is lifted, but he holds his…hands, I suppose they are called, in front of him, wincing in pain whenever they move.

He looks to me, sadly, and in his eyes I see the same resigned disappointment that Wander fixed me with when I was unable to assist Black Hat, and I hate myself for it.

For the next few months he rides in an ambulance, and I in that big horse body can only trot along afterward. The horse has no emotions, not as I know them in my present life, yet I know that the horse I was knows he has hurt Bobby. He knows that the master, my master, was hurt by its actions…my actions.

The hurt gets worse when he gets a new horse.

It is a little horse, though still larger than any Equestrian I have met. It is a quiet little sorrel…

…a mare.

At first I do not know what to make of her. When Bobby comes to the paddock where we are, after he is recovered, I see him saddle up and ride off on her, and even with the senses of that animal I am disheartened.

They call her Lucy. And as time goes on we grow closer. Not close as in terms of friendship, or love, as animals in that world do not have such things. They lack emotion, intellect, but instead it is a form of familiarity.

I once was jealous of her, but both as the animal I was and in my mind now I see her for the creature of grace and beauty she was.

One night, when there is no fighting, and we are turned out into a field, she comes to me, brushes beside me. In the ways of an animal of that world I sense with smell and instinct what she wants of me…

…but I am unable to answer her plea.

There's something wrong with my body, something that the humans have done. Something they did back on that farm. I do not consider myself a pony of emotion, but I do not care to forgive them, for taking that from the horse…the animal that I was…

Even if it was another life, another time, another world, I am still mad that I was unable to give…

She finds other means, and when she is discovered to be with foal she is lead away from the fighting, and I wondered if I would ever see her again.

In time, when the sounds of battle ring out again, Bobby comes to me, and from that moment forward I refuse to let him concern over me when his thoughts should be on the battlefield.

I will be his good horse, lending him my strength in that world…and I will be a good general in my present life in honor of him.


Wander:
When Sam took command of his new army, I watched.

I know Sam has lead an army before this, everything about him says that he is an experienced commander. He has the worn look that proves it, but when we first arrive at the place along the river where the masses of sea and sky colored soldiers wait the officers don't seem to know much about him.

The soldiers are the same way. This army looks like one that's been worked over more times than it cares to think about. The men are thin, tired.

Yet, they have a fire in their eyes. They look at Sam when he goes by. They watch him, I feel their eyes on him, on me. The great big horse that I am in that life knows that they want Sam to be the one to help them win, win something so important that it's bigger'n life itself.

I know Sam can do it, and I will help. I will be there for him.

We move south.

The army moves quietly, anxiously. They are trying to reach something, get past something.

One morning, as dawn is breaking, I hear the snap, snap, snap sounds that I will soon learn marks warfare in this world, in this foreign land and distant time where I am Sam's horse.

His officers ride up to him on their horses, they gather around him and in worried voices speak with him. He gets 'em to shush, then tells them clearly and crisply what they are to do. Through the eyes of the horse I watch as he makes himself the calm center of the storm.

Then he sits, and as more of the crack, crack, pop sounds echo through the surrounding woods he sits, picks up a stick, takes out a knife, and begins to whittle it away…

Sam believes in these officers, knows that this army wants to win. I sense that he feels that they have been cheated, misused. He believes that if just given the chance they will win.

He doesn't like the field though, it's an awful place for a battle. It's not a wood proper, more like a bramble. He knows his boys will have a tough time in it. I know, because he puts the burning weeds in his mouth.

I hate them, hate the tightly bound weeds that his places in his jaw. The thick bunches wrap him in a haze, and the smell permeates all. I've seen nothing like it in Equestria, and I hope it's something only found in that lost world of my past life.

He does this when he is worried, and increasingly when he is not. I am sickened because I can smell what it is doing to him.

As he lights the weeds on fire there is nothing I can do but snort and whiny.

I see Sam's enemy for the first time, too, through the eyes of the horse. Prisoners are brought out of the brambly wilderness. I am shocked at what I see. They're just like Sam's soldiers. They look the same, sound the same, are just as worn, thin, and tired. They even have the same heavy desperate look in their eyes.

There's only one difference I can see…they wear the colors of fog and turned soil, and some don't wear shoes.

I am amazed, and I realize that this is a very brutal war, the worst type of war. The war is a fight against themselves…Sam has to fight his own kind.

The day wears on. More officers and couriers come and go, and Sam begins to pace. Soon an orange glow fills the sky, and he throws the bunch of burning weeds on the ground and curses.

I am saddled, and we ride towards the noises.

Here I see the battle, and it is disgusting to me. The soldiers fight in lines. They snap their weapons and something buzzes from them, and the soldiers across from them die.

Then they do the same, and Sam's drop dead, or fall screaming in pain.

But it gets worse. A fire has broken out in the thickets. Soon it is raging. The men of both sides must stop and pick up their wounded.

Oh, the wounded! They cry for help, but soon they are overcome by the smoke and suffocate. Those are the lucky ones, the poor humans. Others are burned alive, unable to crawl away fast enough.

If they looked so similar before, the soldiers of Sam's army and the soldiers of the other army, then look even more alike as piles of ash.

We leave when Sam can do no more, when the fighting stops and all is but perfect horror and flames.

The next day, I'm saddled and as I am the soldiers, dusty, dirty, and covered with ash, watch. Sam steps up, and gives me a soothing rub behind the ears. He sees the eyes of the soldiers on me, on himself.

One of his generals, George, and his horse Baldy come with us as he wheels me around, faces me south, and we walk. As we come across the soldiers he points them down a road that faces them once more against the enemy.

The soldiers explode into cheers, and I know that they see that he will not be turned from his task. I know then that we are going onwards, towards some great conflagration that matches the flames of the days before.

As long as Sam goes there, I will go with him. I will go with him until Death itself grabs for my reins and pulls me to the ground, until Death itself makes me stop.