//------------------------------// // XXII. Westmarch, Equestria. April, 1252. // Story: Equestria: Total War // by emkajii //------------------------------// Draughtboro, Equestria. April, 1252 Derpy stood proudly in the little town square. She wore her new cape, splendid and gold-lined, and on her head she wore a golden helmet she had found in the spoils from the battle of Rollinghoof. It was a pony helmet, and one of exceptional beauty: it must have been an heirloom relic from a bygone war, taken by a gryphon from a dead pony. Now it was back on a pony's head. Big Mac warned it was a bad omen to wear anything a pony had died in, but she didn't believe in that kind of thing. And it was, she believed, rather stately looking. On either side, she was flanked by three of her most impressive-looking officers. Big Macintosh was there, of course, at her right. He was wearing shining armor. He looked dashing. He felt embarrassed. Before them, the assembled town of Draughtboro prepared to listen to the Gray Mare. "Ponies!" Derpy began, as had become her custom. She spoke not in the iron voice of war, but in a gentler tone. Her purpose was not to inspire, but to reassure. She didn't want these ponies to follow her; she was being flooded with more recruits than her veterans could train. She simply wanted their support and their good will. As always, she would take some donations, leave a liason, and begin using the town as a propaganda base. "For months you have suffered under the claws of the gryphons. You have been subject to theft, to murder, to assault, and to arson. You have lived in daily fear of these brutal tools of conquest. You had no legal recourse for your suffering--because under the gryphons, suffering is law." Ponies nodded. Derpy of course knew the privations of war had nothing to do with nationality; she had inflicted as much suffering as any gryphon general. "I am General Hooves of the Equestrian Army of Free Ponies. We, like you, have seen our homes burned. We, like you, have been separated from our beloved children. We, like you, have seen our friends die. Like you we have known starvation. Like you we have known pain and hardship. And like you, we long for the return of peace and freedom to Equestria." The words were true enough, but they were bland to her own ears. Still, she knew they were soothing to frightened and helpless-feeling townsfolk. "The army of the Princess is strong and growing stronger. It is daily growing into a blade that might cut off the claws of the Gryphon King. But it is not the only blade that Equestria is wielding. We, the Equestrian Army of Free Ponies, were formed to be a second blade to complement the first. Together we will form a mighty shears. And together we will give the gryphons a good Equestrian trimming." Silly. Childish. War wasn't a manecut. But the ponies grinned, as she knew they would. "The gryphons came to take. I come to give. I give you the knowledge that your freedom is coming. I give you the knowledge that Equestria has not surrendered, will never surrender, and could never surrender to occupation. And I give you the opportunity to take your freedom into your own hands. Due to the incredible courage of the Equestrian people, this army is unable at this time to take recruits. We can only teach so many ponies so quickly. But there are many ways to help. We make no demands. These are merely ways by which you can choose to join in the efforts of the Equestrian people." She began listing her requests. The ponies listened eagerly. "That was a mighty fine speech you gave, General." Mac smiled sheepishly at her. She smiled back; the sight of him in his armor was delightful. "Thanks. But it wasn't. It was a dancing-pony show. I was just making war look pretty for the ponies who think suffering means skipping lunch once a week. But it builds our relationship with the populace, so...on we go." She laughed. Two weeks ago she was wracked with self-doubt about her image. Now all it just seemed silly. But she had been in a giddy mood anyway. It was nice. He shook his head. "You're too hard on yourself, Derpy. It ain't always gotta be about killin' and hurtin' and bein' bad cause you gotta be bad. It ain't always gotta be cryin' midnight confessions. You're doin' a good thing for the people, leadin' this army, and I think it's good for you to talk about that, too." "Well...all right." She smiled. It was wonderful having him on board. "You might like this, then." She pulled a broadsheet out of her bag, and held it out for him. He squinted at it. "Hey, there's a picture of you on it. And there's me in the background there. And there's Sweetie Belle. Wow, a big one of her. And there's all three of the girls...we made the paper?" She giggled as she folded it up. "Yep. In more ways than one. We're printing them out of little shops in every town we've got a liason in. Spreading news to the people." She gestured expansively with her hoof. He cocked his head. "We're writin' 'bout ourselves? I don't mind talkin' 'bout what we done if people ask, but writin' a paper 'bout ourselves seems like...braggin'. Ain't seemly." "Oh, Mac. People want to know. You see how eager they are for me to speak. Nopony has to read it if they don't want to. It'll just be available if people are interested in us. Here, let me read you this part: DARING RESCUE OF INSPIRATIONAL FILLY SONGSMITH: A TRUE TALE OF YOUNG HEROISM AND TRUE LEADERSHIP." "--wait, what?! You put all that in there? That whole business with Apple Bloom?" "Well, I didn't Mac, Lt. Inkwell did. He practically had to. That rescue was all anypony in the army could talk about for days." "But they're foals." He looked pained. "I know. That's why it was such a big deal." "I thought you saved 'em because you realized mixin' up kids with war was a downright bad idea." He looked at her as if he was pleading for something. "I did, Mac. I felt awful when they were kidnapped. That's wh--" "--my God, you were thinkin' you could turn it into another one o' your schemes! You were! It was all for this--this pack o' lies, wasn't it? I can't believe I thought it meant you was--" "--MAC! NO! LISTEN TO ME!" He winced. She continued. She spoke fiercely. "If I was concerned then about what ponies thought of me, I wouldn't have said a word about the girls. I would have focused on the battle and moved on. Because going after them was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. The pegasus scouts nearly mutinied when we entered the third day of aerial searches. Everypony else complained the entire time about having to tredge through mud looking for bodies. They thought I was using the army for my own ends. They thought I was cracking up. And they were right. I was. I was cracking up, and I was misusing my authority." She let the words hang. Then she continued with all her ferocity. "Because I couldn't handle the thought of having their deaths on my conscience, so I disregarded the welfare of the army and I refused to accept the fact that all three were very likely dead. It was an awful, stupid thing to do from any rational perspective but I did it because I couldn't just let them go. And it worked out--it worked out wonderfully--but nopony thought it would. Not even me. If you had been speaking to anypony those few days, you'd know just how ridiculous you sound right now." Mac swallowed. "Yeah...I...I'm sorry, Derpy. I'm sorry. You're right. I'm no dummy; I know you couldn't have been plannin' on makin' a big deal about it later. It's just, well, I was always taught good ponies do good things and bad ponies do bad things. And when things looks like they're in the middle, it's 'cause some slick pony's tryin' to get one over on ya. And I know the world ain't that simple outside the farm, but it's still how I see it." "I know, Mac. Everything's so clear to you. It's what makes you strong. It's why I depend on you. But Mac. You have to trust me. This won't work if you don't trust me. None of it will. You, me, the army, none of it. The army doesn't love me. I need someone to. You told me you would. So trust me." He looked warily off to the side. With a hoof she took her helmet off, and let it clatter to the ground. "Mac." She pulled his face back in front of hers. She kissed him, lightly. "Am I a good pony?" "...yup." He nodded. "You are." "Do good ponies do good things?" She kissed him, lightly, again. "...yup." "And do you always understand everything I do and why I do it?" She raised an eyebrow. It produced a mildly comical effect, given the condition of her eyes. "...nope," he admitted. "Then trust that what I'm doing is good, because you know I'm a good pony. And if you don't understand what I'm doing, then ask me to explain before you decide it's bad." She kissed him gently on the nose. "...okay. I'll do that. But...I'm not gonna say bad things are good just 'cause you do 'em." She smiled at him. "And I'll respect that like I always have. But Mac. I'm still the general. That hasn't stopped meaning everything it did two weeks ago." He nodded. "I know. And I know that's for the best. But...I ain't gonna start likin' bad things. I'm still an Apple. That hasn't stopped meanin' nothin', either." She stroked his cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way." ----- Westmarch, Equestria. April, 1252. Daisy May sang, in a calm and steady voice. It wasn't a trained voice, but it was the voice of a pony who believed in what she was singing. We've seen freedom in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps We have built for it an altar in the evening dews and damps We have buried freedom's martyrs by the dim and flaring lamps Their spirits will march on. The campfires stretched out across the plains for what looked like miles: a thousand flickering terrestrial stars. A mirror reflecting the night sky. Twilight watched them as the song carried her soul. It was beautiful. It was the song of a pony who had seen horror and who still believed in the triumph of good. It was the song of a pony who saw evil and believed it fertilized the seed of righteousness. It was, if Daisy May was to be believed, the song of a tiny white filly from Ponyville. Rarity sat next to Twilight. She shook her head in disbelief, then looked at the enraptured faces of the ponies listening. She leaned closer to Twilight. "Sweetie Belle wrote that?" Twilight nodded. "That's what Lt. May said. I don't think she'd lie." "I can't believe that. Sweetie's a lovely filly, but she isn't the deepest thinker. They must be trying to use her as a mascot or something." "Now, I'm a deep thinker, Rarity. But I can't--" Rarity scoffed, rolling her eyes. "--oh, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, I'm a smart pony and I couldn't write a good poem no matter how many books I read. Poetry isn't about thinking. It's about feeling. She's a sensitive filly. I can believe it." "You're naive, Twilight. I don't understand why the princess is going to promote you to general, to say nothing of major general. War isn't about being nice to people. It's about doing what you have to do to survive." Twilight blinked. She blinked again. "...Rarity, what does that have to do with anything?" "It's obvious," Rarity replied, verging on yelling. "Somepony wrote it and then they pretended Sweetie Belle did so they could use her as a cute symbol of their rag-tag little army! It's cold calculation--which is apparently entirely foreign to you--and I can't understand how we could have a leader that can neither perform nor recognize it!" She stopped to breathe, then noticed the campfire was quiet. Daisy May had stopped singing. Everypony was looking at Rarity. She nervously clicked her front hooves together. "Er...well, I didn't intend to...well, it's true. This whole story is childish propaganda, from that pathetic little wall-eyed mailmare being a general to the notion that a simple child could write battle hymns and marching anthems. Surely I'm not the only one to see through it." Daisy May looked confused. "Captain...I...what? You're from Ponyville too, then?" "Yes. I am Rarity, I am Sweetie Belle's older sister, and I guarantee you that she is simply not...capable of writing these." She looked around. The other ponies were staring at her in disbelief. She doubled down. "Nor, for that matter, is Miss Hooves capable of doing anything but accidentally dropping my letters in the mud." Daisy May narrowed her eyes. She walked around the fire as she spoke. "Lt. Rarity, I've seen Sweetie Belle writing. I've heard her writing. She isn't a 'mascot.' She's the treasure of our army. She's worth more than a thousand soldiers. And she's a sweet girl to boot. And furthermore, I have been travelling with that 'pathetic wall-eyed mailmare' since last November. I owe my life to her many times over. I would die for her. In fact, I probably will end up dying for her, and I welcome the opportunity." She was now standing directly in front of Rarity. Her voice was sodden with disdain. "When we win this war, it won't be because of ponies like you, who think this whole thing's a game they've figured out. It'll be because of ponies like them, who somehow manage to convince ponies like me to become better than ponies like you." Rarity stood and curled her upper lip. "Better than--why, you donkey-loving half-zebra, I have a good mind to give you that opportunity you want right now." Twilight grabbed Rarity around the neck. "Sit down, Captain. And observe decorum; Lt. May is a visiting officer of an allied army. Down, Rarity. Sit. Down. Now." She said the last word with all the menace she could muster. There was a pregnant silence. Then, slowly, Rarity sat. Twilight looked around the campfire. Expressions ranged from uneasy to horrified. "Well...it seems our lighthearted moment of cameraderie has been irrevocably interrupted. I'm very sorry, Lt. May. Please, come with me." Twilight stood up, and motioned to Daisy May to come with her. The pegasus walked uneasily around Rarity, and then followed Twilight out into the night. They walked slowly together. Neither seemed quite easy with the conversation. "You're staying for the fight tomorrow?" Twilight asked. "Yes, of course. I'm sure General Hooves would rather I return a day late than abandon the New Equestrian Army on the eve of battle." "As a pegasus mare, you'll be assigned to be a lancer, I imagine. Can you handle that?" "Yes, I've used lances before." Suddenly, she perked up. "Actually, I was one of the lancers General Hooves hand-picked for the rescue mission. The one I told you about, with Sweetie Belle. I wasn't in the first strike team or anything; it's not like I rescued Sweetie Belle myself. I was the leader of the reserve team. I just hung above. I would have swooped down if either of the two ponies in the first team had missed their targets, or if Gen. Hooves had run into any trouble. I didn't have to, but I could have. And I was picked to take the letter here because she thought I'd have the best chance of evading any gryphon sky patrols, so I guess I'm a good flier, too...though, truthfully, I'm not sure I'm any better than any of the other girls in the cavalry. Do you know how that goes? Like, somepony gives you an honor but you're really not more qualified for it than anypony else is?" Twilight laughed joylessly. "Oh, yes, I have some idea," she said, with not just a hint of sarcasm. Daisy May looked a bit confused. "Er...I've apparently hit a nerve? I'm sorry, I guess." Twilight sighed, her snide smile evaporating. She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just...under a lot of stress now." "I can imagine. We all are." "Well, actuall--yes. Yes, we all are. We all certainly are." They walked in silence. "So...Lt. May." "Yes, Col. Sparkle?" "Is Derpy really a general? A good one?" "Absolutely." She spoke resolutely, as if Twilight had been challenging her. "That's so...I don't know. Improbable. Like, she's the last pony I'd have picked." Daisy smiled. "It's a good thing you didn't pick, then." "Yeah, I mean--okay, yeah, it's a fair point, I guess I didn't know her as well as I thought. I'm just saying, I guess we all kind of thought of her as this harmless, helpless, weird little pony." "Did you talk to her much?" "Sometimes. She didn't say much. I figured she didn't have much to say. I never really thought anything bad about her. I just didn't think about her." "Huh," Daisy May muttered in thought. "That's kind of strange, yeah. The General is like this force of personality to us. I mean, I know about her old life--her foal, and being bullied as a filly, and all that. We've read the old speeches. But I pictured her as being so self-assured in Ponyville." "I don't know if she was or if she wasn't. She was just a quiet pony. Who knows what she was like? ...but it doesn't matter. I guess she's becoming a great pony now. And that's a good thing. We need one." "You're a great pony too, Twilight." "No, I'm not." "Everypony knows you, all across Equestria. And we did before the war. You saved Equestria twice." "I didn't earn it, Lt. May. I was just somehow given this crowny thing. And then sometimes I put it on and my eyes light up and some magic happens and the bad things go away. That isn't greatness. I'm no greater than a schoolfilly playing dress-up with her mother's hat." "Well, I couldn't do it. Neither could most ponies." "I didn't work at being able to do it. None of us have ever had to work at being able to do it. It's just who we are. Or...who we were, at least." She nearly whispered the last part. There was silence. Twilight moped to herself. Daisy May thought a bit. "Col. Sparkle. I don't want to be presumptuous. But if the General has taught us one thing, it's that you have to work at it. Being good during a war doesn't always look like it does at home. But you still can be good. You just need to look at what being good means, not what being good looks like." Twilight looked curious. Daisy May continued. "I mean, sometimes doing one thing can be bad in one case and good in another, so it's hard to say that the thing itself can be good or bad. If you ask me, what you do is important, but why you do it is even more important." Twilight thought. Then, suddenly, she smiled. She hugged Daisy May. She gave her directions to the lancer camp. And she went trotting happily back towards Princess Celestia's tent. Rainbow Dash hesitantly entered the tent. "You...called me here, Princess?" Then she stopped in her tracks. Princess Celestia wasn't there. Four ponies sat in an open circle on a rug in the center. "So glad you could make it, Rainbow Dash," Twilight said. "Yeah. Real glad," Pinkie said, then twitched. "After all, we might never see each other again ha ha ha!" Applejack nodded. "Well...I can't say whether I see much point in this gatherin', but the Princess ordered it, so here I am." Rarity rolled her eyes. "Personally, I can think of better things to do on the eve of a battle than hold a tea party, but I'm sure our illustrious general-to-be has a thorough grasp of how this will affect our performance on the field tomorrow." Rainbow Dash looked from pony to pony, her incredulity rising. "Col. Sparkle?! Did you have the Princess order us here so you could have a sleepover or something?! I've told you about this! I've told you so many times! Just leave me alone!" "Sit down, Rainbow Dash," Twilight said calmly. "It will only take a second. The Princess has ordered it." Dash bit her lip, then took a seat between Applejack and Twilight. "Now," Twilight said. "There's most likely going to be another battle tomorrow. We'll be on familiar ground. We're only two miles south of Dash's Hill--" "--please, please don't call it that, why does everypony call it that--" Dash moaned. "--and I know you'll be thinking about what happened last time. But this is different. We're different ponies now. And believe it or not, in some ways, we're better ponies now. So I'm not going to ask you to go back to who you were, and I'm not going to expect us to be like we were before. That's not realistic. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like I expected that." "But we can be better than we are now. I promise we can. And I know what I'm about to say is going to sound really, really, *really* stupid. But if you find that something you've done isn't working well? Don't blame yourself. Just ask yourself why you did it. I know it sounds dumb. And I know you already do it. But...please. It's important. We trusted each other once. Trust me again. If only on something this small." All four stared at her. "Twilight, you're crazy," Dash said. "I've spent the entire winter asking myself why I did what I did at the battle of Westmarch." She shuddered, and then stood and left. "No," Twilight said hurriedly. "I don't mean 'why' like in 'what was I thinking,' but like 'how does this reflect who I am.'" "Twilight, dear," Rarity said, "I appreciate your attempt to look after our welfare. I do. But I have considered deeply how my previous belief in the value of caretaking individuals is not compatible with my broader belief in the value of helping everypony. Your concern is touching but misplaced." She tossed her hair, and then stood and left. "Yeah," Applejack said. "I gotta agree with Rarity on that one. Don't often say that, I suppose." She nodded curtly, and then stood and left. Pinkie laughed. Her rail-straight mane shimmered. "This was a fun party. We should do it again tomorrow. That is, if any of us are alive. But we can prop up the dead ones and it'll be just as fun!" She laughed, gasped, and then stood and left. Twilight sighed deeply. She had tried. Maybe it would help. It probably wouldn't. She slowly got back to her feet. Tomorrow. Another battle tomorrow. The first of many this season. It didn't seem real. It felt like the future just didn't exist past bedtime. Well, then. Bedtime it was. ----- In Lovely Cave, Fluttershy lay on the ground, her hooves over her ears. "No, no, little friends. Those weren't drums. Those weren't drums. Everything is fine here. Everything is fine now. Everything is fine here. Everything is fine now. Those weren't drums. Those weren't drums." Gryphon snares rapped through the night sky.