After leaving the castle, the two soldiers made their way down the dark streets of Canterlot. They were flanked on both sides by guards clothed in Earth Infantry Brown, and Wonderbolt Blue. No one spoke until Jackson finally stopped at a well-lit boutique.
“Not that I mind seeing Rarity again, but, why now? You have to be tired,” declared Rainbow Dash as she stifled a yawn. “I know I am.”
Jackson rubbed his eyes in weariness as he replied, “Before her Excellency showed me my old country’s . . . state of affairs, she told me to come here. I know not why.”
The Grand Commander shrugged. “Okay, good enough for me.” With that, she pushed open the windowed door.
This was the first time the General had been in Rarity’s shop. He had promised her to someday come and see her establishment in person. There was no time like the present. The guards stood at attention outside while the pegasus and human went in. They browsed the clothing, and it wasn’t long before Rarity approached them.
“So, what do you think?” a sweet feminine voice asked.
Jackson was examining a dress on a pony manikin. He knew Rarity was behind him and deliberately took his time rubbing the cloth between his fingers. “Well, I reckon it’s a bit drafty. However, if I resolve to lose a few pounds and learn to walk on all fours, it might work.”
The Iron Ghost turned, grinning from ear to ear, as the two mares laughed loudly.
He took off his hat and bowed as low as his reattached leg would allow. “And how is my favorite armor designer fairing?”
Rarity giggled and curtsied in reply, making Rainbow Dash roll her eyes at the mock formalities. “Quite well, Thomas. Thank you.” The white unicorn’s eyes became very large. “Oh, good heavens, where are my manners? I must get you a chair. I’ve forgotten you were injured in this last bit of fighting.”
“Oh, this?” Jackson asked thumping his hand against his aching leg. “Good as new. Barely even a scratch really.”
The fashonista ignored the human as she galloped into the back of the store. Seconds later she reemerged with a beautiful, hoof-crafted seat with a plush cushion.
As Jackson said his thanks and sat down, Rainbow Dash asked, “Where’s my seat?”
“Oh, dear. I’ll be right back.”
But before Rarity could react, the pegasus had moved to block her way. “Calm down, Rarity. I’m just messing with you.”
The unicorn glared at the pegasus for a moment and then smiled. Turning her attention back to Jackson, she asked, “Is there anything else I can get you? ”
Jackson shook his head. “No thank you, Miss Rarity. Just the pleasure of your company does this old soldier’s heart wonders.”
Rarity blushed while Rainbow Dash cringed at the General’s choice of words.
Rarity stretched her fatigued legs. “It is good to see the two of you. But I am curious. What brings the Sky Marshal and the Iron Ghost to my doorstep at this hour?”
“Do we need a reason?” the pegaus chimed in.
“Well, no, I suppose not.”
Tapping his cane lightly on the ornate wooden floor, Jackson said airily, “The truth of the matter is I was ordered to come here by the Princess.”
Rarity frowned for a moment before her eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’ve come to see the progress I’ve made on the mach four armor, haven’t you?” The fretting unicorn added quickly, “Tell Princess Luna that I need a little more time. The material I am working with is quite cumbersome.”
Jackson smiled and shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s why. I was hoping you could tell us.”
“Well, I am sorry to disappoint the two of you, but I haven’t heard from the palace for a week now.”
Jackson and the Grand Commander looked at each other in confusion. The Iron Ghost pulled at his beard in thought. “Her Excellency would not send me here needlessly. I am certain of that.”
Rarity looked at the floor in disappointment. “And here I thought you came to visit me.”
The human winced. Before he could apologize, the front door to the boutique opened. The three friends turned to see who the newcomer was.
A hooded pony stepped through the doorway. Jackson eyed the newcomer curiously, becoming all too aware that he had left his mercury arm with the guards outside. Even though the General could not see the pony’s face, he had the feeling that he or she was looking straight at him. Without a word, the pony removed the hood of her cloak to reveal a black and white mohawk mane.
Rarity gasped in happy surprise. “Zecora!”
The zebra smiled. “Ah, Rarity it is good to see you, as well as the Sky Marshal, and the Iron Ghost, too.”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Was this the pony who had conjured the amazing potions and balms that had saved so many of his soldier’s lives? Anxious to meet the miracle worker, the human tried to rise from his seat. An ice-cold lance of pain flared in his chest and forced him back down.
Rarity was by the General’s side in an instant. “Thomas, what’s wrong?”
Jackson screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as he rode out the pain.
Rainbow Dash said hastily, “He’s alright. He broke a few ribs during the last campaign. It’s nothing to worry about. Right, Tom?”
The General did not reply.
Rarity took Jackson’s hand in her hooves. “Is there anything we can do?”
Stepping forward, Zecora produced a flask. “I have what this human needs. His trouble lies close to the heart indeed.”
Taking a deep breath, Jackson let go of Rarity’s hoof and slumped back in his chair. He gave the flask a curious glance. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t drink alcohol.”
The zebra laughed. “Nor do I, but this is something you might want to try.” Placing the container in the human’s lap, Zecora continued, “The Princess told me your chest was a fire, but this brew will keep you away from the funeral pyre.”
Rarity covered her mouth with her hooves. “It’s that serious?” Nobody answered her.
Jackson unscrewed the lid and sniffed the contents. Strangely, it smelled of sunflowers. The human looked to the zebra. “Does her Excellency wish for me to drink this?”
Zecora returned the blue-eyed warrior’s stare with her own. “That is up to you, the one who is true.” The brew master sighed. “It may cure, and it may not. But either way, your path with danger is fraught.”
Closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair, Jackson handed the flask back to Zecora. Wordlessly, he fished out a folded envelope from his breast pocket and held it out for Rarity to take. “Miss Rarity, I’ve been waiting for the right time to give you this. I should have done so before the last campaign, but I was foolish and did not make the time. So I am doing so now, just in case I do not get to in the future.”
Tears filled Rarity’s eyes as she took the envelope from Jackson’s hand. “Thomas, what is wrong with you? What are you not telling me?”
Jackson hesitated only for a moment. “I’m dying my dear, but I believe I have been granted one last chance to serve Equestria before my end comes. However, if this is not so, than know that I am not afraid and shall be thinking of you and all my loved ones.”
Jackson gave Rarity’s hoof an affectionate squeeze as she tearfully took the envelope. The Iron Ghost turned his sight on the Grand Commander. “Rainbow.”
“Yeah, Tom?” the pegasus replied hoarsely.
“Take care of my boys in case I don’t wake up, and know that it has been an honor to serve with you.”
Too overcome with emotion to reply, Rainbow Dash only nodded.
Looking over to Zecora, Jackson said quietly, “I am ready.”
The zebra handed the flask to Jackson. “For it to work you must drink it all, and hopefully the evil in your heart will stall.”
The Iron Ghost drank. The brew was as sweet as honey, but burned hotter than Hades as it scorched down his throat. As he swallowed the last bit of the potion, he blinked and waited for something to happen. “Ms. Zecora, I think . . .”
The words died in Jackson’s throat when he realized that he wasn’t in Rarity’s boutique anymore. He looked around him, and all the General saw was darkness and trees. An eerie apprehensiveness crept over Jackson. He knew this place but could not recall it at the moment. His musing was interrupted when in the distance he saw a faint amber glow flare into existence. He also heard low murmurs coming from the light. Overcome with curiosity, the Iron Ghost quietly advanced. The trees were very thick in places and Jackson had to use both arms to push away branches. Jackson stopped dead in his tracks as this realization struck him. He raised his left arm and looked at it in the moonlight. It was his arm, the human arm that he had been born with over forty years ago.
“How can this be?” Jackson asked himself quietly. The voices jarred him to action as he heard uproarious laughter.
“I’ve never seen them Yanks skedaddle that quick before. Ol’e Blue Light really put the scare into them this time, that’s for sure,” one voice said.
Jackson stopped breathing. Ol’e Blue Light, that was one of the nicknames his Virginians called him during the Second Revolutionary War. The General crawled forward in the brush, eager to hear more.
“Yep, I bet Ol’e Fightin’ Joe Hooker done shit his drawers when he saw our whole corp come stormin out of them trees. Ha, ha, mark my words boys. Them blue bellies are licked for sure. One more push tomorrow and we’ll bag em all,” replied another.
“This can’t be real. It can’t be,” Jackson thought to himself as he crouched behind a tree, mere feet away from the voices. The Iron Ghost could not believe what he was seeing. Here right in front of him were ghosts from his previous life. Confederate soldiers clad in dirty grey and butternut uniforms talking in the thick southern accent he only heard in his dreams.
A third soldier, took a long draw from his cigarette. “I hear we captured General Howard himself and his entire command today. If we had had some more damn daylight, we would have pushed the Yanks out of Chancellorsville and back across the Potomac.”
Jackson’s heart skipped a beat when he heard this. Did Zecora’s potion send him back in time? Was he really back in Virginia in 1863?
“Christ Almighty. Quiet down, ya dern fools,” hissed an irate Sergeant. “You’re supposed to be on picket duty. At least act like it.”
The three other soldiers withered under the non-comm’s glare.
“Sorry, Sarge,” replied one of the soldiers. “But I don’t think the Yanks are gonna’ attack at night, not after the whipp’n they took today.”
A moment later, Jackson heard the galloping of horses. The Southerners heard it, too, as they brought their muskets to bear on the road they were guarding.
“Yank Calvary!” the Sergeant yelled as he leveled his weapon on something he could see down the road.
Before he knew what he was doing, Jackson was running into the midst of the pickets screaming, “NO!”
He tried to tackle the Sergeant to the ground, but to his surprise, he passed right through the Confederate like he was a ghost. Before Jackson could rise, the soldiers were firing into the darkness. Their weapons lit up the night as the powder within their muskets ignited.
“Stop firing! You’re shooting your own!” an all too familiar voice barked, sending chills up Jackson’s spine. But the rebels did not stop shooting as more unseen soldiers added their musket fire to the chaos. The general howled in sudden agony. It felt like someone was sticking a white-hot poker through his left arm in two different places. Men yelled and horses shrieked, galloping rider less past the tortured human. After what seemed like an eternity of noise, all was quiet.
Without a word between them, the pickets moved down the road, ignoring the General who was grasping his bleeding arm. Slowly, Stonewall Jackson rose and followed them, knowing full well what he would find. Passing through several Confederates, he looked down and saw . . . himself. The wounds he had suffered moments ago were in the exact same places as the wounds of his copy.
“Oh, my God. What have we done?” a distraught soldier asked.
“Get a stretcher,” another commanded.
“Hold on, General, we’ll get you back to camp.”
As the pickets raced to help their fallen hero, Jackson watched a couple of the soldiers run down the road. He squinted off in the distance, and could have sworn he saw a pair of bright green eyes staring at him in the bushes before disappearing.
The Iron Ghost looked back at his double, and to his shock, his world had changed again. No longer was he in the middle of the woods, but standing outside the office building of a plantation. The entrance was guarded by two Confederate soldiers. Both were looking straight ahead, ignoring his presence. The pain in his arm had dulled but not vanished as it hung limply by his side. He ran his right hand over the appendage and could feel the smashed bones within. He needed to see a doctor. A name emerged from the fog surrounding Jackson’s memory.
“Dr. McGuire,” Jackson thought. “I must find him. Perhaps he is in here.” As Stonewall walked up to the door, a harsh, cold voice blasted through Jackson’s mind.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. They’re about to cut off your arm.”
Jackson froze as he was reaching for the door knob. He slowly turned around. Standing a few feet away was Sombra. The pony was disfigured almost beyond recognition. The right side of the unicorn’s head had been sliced open revealing the brain matter beneath. He levitated over the floor for his hooves had been cut off. Sombra’s voice reverberated in Jackson’s mind. “I have been waiting for you, Thomas.”
Jackson grabbed the revolver holstered at his belt. Using his good arm, he emptied the cylinder into the horrific looking pony. The shots passed through the pony as if he had never fired them.
“I’m inside your body,” Sombra growled. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I have a proposition for you.”
“I have nothing to say to you, murderer. You--” Jackson screamed as pain tore through his left arm. He looked at his ruined arm and, to his horror, felt an invisible saw cut through bone and muscle. Jackson kicked the door open. Sure enough, Dr. McGuire with a saw in hand was amputating his arm. Jackson shoved his handkerchief into his mouth to bite off his screams of torment. He fixed a hate-filled glare at Sombra. A half grin parted the pony’s lips at the human’s agony.
Even after his arm fell to the ground, Jackson’s misery continued. The mind-numbing pain shifted from the stump of his left arm to the center of his chest. Having long since been driven to his knees, Jackson reached the peak of human endurance and began to black out.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Sombra said. The unicorn’s horn glowed with black magic, and instantly the pain in Jackson’s chest faded away.
Jackson staggered to his feet. “I’m not going to beg, monster, so if you’re going to kill me, just do it.”
Sombra frowned. “Why would I kill you? We have so much in common, you and I.”
“We have nothing in common!” Jackson shouted.
“Oh, but we do. We are both leaders, we are both nearly dead, and we are both traitors.”
The Iron Ghost winced.
“That’s right, Thomas. We know all about you. Your alicorn mistress isn’t the only one who can see beyond her own realm.”
Jackson remained silent.
“Tell me,” Sombra drawled. “Have you asked her about the war in your native country? Surely you have by now. What did she say?”
Jackson clenched his fist. “She told me the war was over.”
“And?”
“What is there to tell, monster?” Jackson asked angrily. “It’s over. The Confederacy is gone, and that’s God’s will.”
“God’s will?” Sombra asked curiously. “If there is a god, Jackson, he had nothing to do with your country’s downfall. Your precious Virginia and the Confederacy burned because it kept millions of men, women, and children in chains. Is that the country you fought to defend? If it is, then you and I are more alike than you could possibly imagine.”
The General sighed in weariness. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps this is God’s way of punishing my old home for its sins just as he punished Sodom and Gomorrah.”
“But when I die and I am to be judged with those other brave men who defended Virginia with their lives, I shall take whatever retribution God has planned for me gladly. For that was my home and I would die for it again,” Jackson declared forcefully.
“Interesting,” Sombra replied. “What if I told you that you could go back and defend your home?”
“I would say the promise of a demon lover is worth less than the word of a demon,” Jackson spat.
Sombra fixed his gaze on the Confederate soldiers behind Jackson. He levitated up to one of them. “They hang traitors, you know. The Union will want revenge for four years of bloodletting and for the death of their president.”
The color in the General’s face drained away. “What?”
“Oh? Did she not tell you?” Sombra asked, feigning disinterest. “Abraham Lincoln was assassinated a month ago by Mr. John Wilkes Booth, a stage actor, I believe.”
This revelation was like a blow to the stomach for Jackson.
“That’s right, Thomas. You know what the North will do. They will want blood in return. And if I were them, I would retaliate against the families who did the most harm to the Union. In fact, that is what they are doing as we speak.”
The human struggled to maintain his composure, but he was losing. “No!” Jackson gasped. “No! You’re lying.”
“Lincoln is dead. Why would I lie when a truth cuts far deeper?”
“Be gone from me and let me die in peace!” Jackson yelled.
The Iron Ghost turned away from Sombra to gaze at the still form of his past self. The dark pony would give him no respite. Sombra reappeared placing himself between the two Jacksons.
“Fear not, General. You can still save your family and Virginia from the North’s wrath.”
Before he could stop himself, he asked, “How?”
“Lord Tirek has the power to send you back, back through time and space to the point where your nightmare began.”
Jackson shook his head as he watched Doctor McGuire bind the other Jackson’s ravaged arm.
“Not only can he send you back, he will send you back with an army.” Sombra paused, letting his words sink in. When he continued, his voice rose with volume and passion as he showed Jackson images of a possible future.
“Imagine it, Thomas, you at the head of an invincible army, crushing the Federals in every battle in your God’s name. Virginia would be independent. Her people would be safe, and the north would beg forgiveness for daring to invade your home.”
Jackson opened his eyes and watched himself leading an army of demons up Pennsylvania Avenue and into the White House itself. He would be lying to himself if what he was witnessing was not tempting.
“What is the price of Virginia’s salvation?” asked Jackson quietly.
Sombra smiled. “Let me have control of your body for the next twenty-four hours.”
The human recoiled at the thought. “I might as well hand you the keys to my soul.”
“Nothing is free, General. In your hands lies the fate of two nations. In one hand you have Virginia and the Confederacy, your wife and child, your real friends and neighbors, and your birthright. And in the other lies a nation of ponies you owe nothing to. They kidnapped you and made you fight their hopeless war. They stole you away. You might have recovered on your own from that sickness. They denied you that chance.”
The Iron Ghost did not reply.
“All you have to do is say yes. I’ll do the rest. The next thing you’ll know, you’ll be back in Virginia with both arms, and the greatest army on Earth at your back. What say you, Stonewall?”
The General bit his lip till blood ran down his chin. This felt so wrong, he couldn’t stand it. And yet, how could he refuse? He could save his home, his men, his family from the fires of revenge and war. Did he not have a responsibility to them?
“Just say yes. And all of this goes away,” Sombra said soothingly.
Jackson tried to move away from the foul beast. Wherever he turned, there was the black unicorn, tempting him. Jackson’s frantic gaze fell upon an open Bible near his duplicate’s body. It was his personal Bible. He recognized it with all its scuffs and tears like they were his own scars. He went to the nightstand and examined the book. Half a dozen lines of text were shimmering. He read:
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.
Ephesians, Ch 6, Verses 10-13
Jackson clung to those words like a lost child to his mother. As the seconds passed, the maelstrom that was raging inside him changed. No longer did he feel filled with despair about what to do. It was now all clear. Jackson turned to face Sombra.
“I would rather my body be sundered by a million lashes then lead your demons into Virginia. Every soul on earth would resist their coming for that is what they are doing in Equestria. Good shall forever triumph over evil in all its forms, and I would rather die on the right side than live forever as your master’s pawn.”
Before Sombra could respond, Jackson picked up a large, bloody knife and pointed it at the scarred unicorn.
The pony smirked mirthlessly. “And what are you going to do with that, Thomas? I’m inside you, not in front of you.”
Jackson turned held the blade over his chest. “Yes. In my heart to be precise.”
The human stabbed himself with all the strength he could muster.
“No!” Sombra screamed and launched himself at the wounded human. Both fell to the ground. “I need you alive! If you won’t turn willingly, I’ll take you by force!”
Dark magic vomited out of Sombra’s horn. The black tendrils slithered into the General’s face. The human tried to raise his weapon for a killing blow but could not. He no longer controlled his body. His soul still fought with everything it possessed to keep the corruption from spreading into his mind. The battle waged on and slowly, Sombra could feel Jackon’s defense crumbling. The unicorn pressed his attack.
Jackson would not surrender. He poured all his good memories and emotions against the invading darkness into his mind’s bulwarks. The damned unicorn’s advance slowed but did not stop. Knowing the end had come, Jackson prayed. Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit.
Strangely, he felt nothing at first. His vision was the first thing to return to him as he looked up from the blood-covered floor. Blinking with exhaustion, Jackson beheld a strange sight. His duplicate’s body was being lifted off the table by a lavender aura. The body floated out of the room. A pony was using her magic to carry the old Stonewall Jackson away and back to Equestria.
“Strange,” Jackson murmured as he coughed blood onto the floor. “I thought Princess Celestia was the one who brought me to my new home. Her magic is gold-colored.”
Feeling the sunlight peaking through the window, Jackson smiled. “Well, I always wanted to die on a Sunday, but some other day will do I guess.”
“Not yet,” a sweet voice declared.
Jackson beheld Princess Celestia.
“Your Excellency,” Jackson whispered in awe. He tried to salute.
“Thomas, please stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
Unbridled happiness overcame him. “Am I dead, Your Excellency?”
The alicorn shook her head. “No.”
Jackson closed his eyes in disappointment. “I’m tired, Your Excellency. I want to go home. I want to go to the place our Father has prepared for us.”
A warm tear fell on Jackson’s face as Princess Celestia knelt beside her warrior. “I know. And I’ll be waiting for you, I promise. But I need you where you are. I ask that you carry on a little longer. One more time and then . . .” The Princess looked away unable to meet Jackson’s understanding eyes.
Jackson nodded. “I will, for you, one last time. Promise me that you’ll watch over my wife and child.”
“I will.”
From outside, Twilight Sparkle spoke. “Princess, we have to go.”
“Just a moment,” Celestia answered huskily.
The alicorn bent down, and kissed Jackson on the forehead and whispered, “I’ll see you soon, Thomas.”
The human was about to reply, when he found himself opening his eyes again. As his sight gradually returned, he could tell that he was back in Rarity’s boutique. His body had not been moved since he had taken Zecora’s potent medicine. Jackson turned to see a very surprised Granny Smith.
“Hello, young lady,” the Iron Ghost said weakly.
The old earth pony took her hooves from her mouth. “Hello yourself you, scalawag.”
“How long was I asleep, Granny?”
“Two days. Not bad considerin’ the know it all doctors said that you’d never wake up again. But I knew you would. You’re too stubborn to die, just like me.”
Jackson laughed as he tried to sit up. Granny Smith placed a strong hoof on his chest, pressing him to the pillow. “Now you just lie yourself back down while I get Applejack and the others.”
As she turned to go, the old earth pony called, “Pinkie, make sure he don’t go anywhere.”
Sure enough, there was his scythe-wielding body guard in the corner. Surprisingly, the scarred warrior was not wearing her death mask as she came to the bed. She gave the General a rare smile. “I gotta do what she says, boss. Don’t wanna get into trouble.”
Jackson nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “She ranks us.”