11: Tyrant
The assumption that the small town of Stoneshade would be a good point to stop was mostly driven by three things. One, that it was much closer than Baltimare, and only a half-day’s detour; two, that after seeing the quiet desolation of Ponyville and Appleloosa, a small part of the trio’s minds was simply curious to witness first-hand how other towns had fared in the troubled times. A morbid curiosity to see what the unknown communities had been driven to in order to survive; or to simply observe how they had failed to do so and died.
Lastly, and despite the commendable efforts they had made in order to find a somewhat dry cave in which to light a small fire and spend the night drying off both themselves and their belongings after their soak in the river, the trio felt more than ready to taste the modern comforts of civilization once more at last.
It would have been so simple.
The first thing they had seen of the small forest town was the immense stone spire rising high above the treetops; most likely the namesake of the town, the large column stood at a slightly tilted angle over the gentle wisps of smoke wafting from fires they could not yet see. The geologist in Rarity recognized the natural monument as having been carved out of some ancient strata of bedrock by the millions of years spent standing in a river’s delta. It certainly wasn’t the only one in the area -they had passed by several hundred more since their departure from the badlands- but it was quite notable by its sheer size; easily dwarfing anything from there to Canterlot.
The second thing they had noticed as they approached was a peculiar catwalk built around the monolith, from which a conspicuous shadowy shape seemed to fall as they got closer.
The third, and most worrying thing they saw of the village of Stoneshade was the literal wall of iron stomping its way towards them with a roar.
“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE PONIES!”
Taken completely by surprise at the sight of the pockmarked, mangled piece of steel advancing upon them from around a slight bend in the road, the three travelers only had time to exchange panicked glances before they found themselves face to face with the object. With an earth-shaking thomp, what seemed to be an entire flattened refrigerator dropped to the ground mere feet from where they stood.
They had started to back away from whatever terrifying contraption stood in all its faded-green-painted, flaked glory in the middle of the road when a second, equally-terrifying object drew out from behind the first. This one was, at first glance, an amalgamation of several concrete-filled mailboxes strapped to a streetlight by the iron rings of at least two barrels.
The second object was held firmly in the grasp of a single, dark grey hand.
The hand was attached to an arm, who belonged to a bafflingly massive minotaur. How the beast had managed to remain entirely concealed behind what he apparently used as a shield on his way there was only one question among the generally terrified thoughts of the much smaller trio.
If Rarity had dubbed her only experience with minotaurs, Iron Will, a monster, this individual required some effort in order to think of a stronger, more proper way to qualify his girth and general appearance. Abomination, perhaps; horror, if one was to go with the effect of his presence.
Where Iron Will had stood twice as tall as Rarity, the fuming specimen blocking their path was at least a head taller still, even when accounting for his worn-down and broken horns. Dozens of scratches covered his body, marking everything from his bulging muscles to his face and even his ankles with the scars of past violence. Both his skin and the fur of his legs were darker than what the unicorn remembered of her only point of comparison. He wore no tie nor nose ring, instead being adorned with a single earring.
And he seemed beyond furious. His beady yellow eyes, ridiculously small compared to a pony’s and thus appearing microscopic on the huffing mountain of flesh, were bloodshot to the point of looking downright orange. His stiff breaths only seemed able to escape his nostrils as rumbling grunts and puffs of steam, and his ears occasionally flicked this way and that as if trying to swat flies. From time to time, his head twitched, prompting angry snarls and shows of bared teeth.
“Are you,” the minotaur began, his voice seething with threat, “here to cause trouble?”
Another quick exchange of terrified glances was immediately followed by a squeak from Rarity that could have been, under the right circumstances, mistaken for the word “What?”
“Are you being FOLLOWED?”
Spike was about to object, to ask who this stranger was and what he was talking about, when a rustle of leaves behind the beast announced the arrival of a new face.
“Woah, woah! There’s no need for that, Ty! Calm down buddy, you can see they’re not dangerous, right?”
The minotaur only ground his teeth and growled in response, inching closer to the ponyvillians with such intensity that his whole body shook. The Stallion, whose coat was a very light shade of lavender, moved to stand the slightest bit in the minotaur’s way. He put a hoof on the giant’s maul-wielding forearm and tried to establish eye contact with the monster.
“Hey there, easy. They’re not going to hurt anyone, Ty.” The earth pony turned his head to glare suddenly at the three travelers. “Right?”
The hurried assurances that the trio had indeed come with no ill intent proved enough for the massive beast, although he required three long seconds of immobile fuming before it became apparent of such. He eventually closed his eyes and forced his short, choppy breaths to return to a more controlled state, before rising back to his full height.
“Take them back to the village,” the minotaur said, cracking his neck as he spoke. Anger was still prevalent on his features. The stallion silently motioned for the three to follow him as he began walking backwards towards where he’d come from, keeping his eyes on the tall minotaur and a concerned frown on his face.
“And tell Sleet Shield to get back to his damn post!” the dark beast added, “I’ll take a look around to make sure they weren’t lying.” His eyes fell on the trio as he put his maul down on its head, grabbing a nearby tree branch as thick as a pony’s leg in his hand instead. “And if they are…”
The branch snapped immediately, crushed to splinters between his massive fingers. He shook the wooden shards out of his grip, only to point two fingers to his eyes and to the group in rapid succession. He then left without another word, dragging the massive hammer behind himself as he cleaved through the underbrush.
The ponies and dragon pressed forward, all visibly eager to put distance between themselves and the minotaur. As soon as the minotaur’s heavy hoof-falls and loud trampling went out of earshot, the stallion passed a hoof through his nearly-shaved mane with a sigh.
“Look,” he said as the three others stopped to face him, “I’m sorry about Tyrone. He’s… he hasn’t been his normal self lately, ever since that whole business with the unicorns.”
“You mean that minotaur back there?”
“Yeah,” the stranger answered, motioning with his head to continue their trek. “His name’s Tyrone Fist. He was… he was just here in Stoneshade when the unicorns went crazy for some reason. A really polite, calm guy until… whatever happened.” He chuckled dryly, picking up the pace as the town was quickly becoming visible through the woods. “And then he just punched them all out of here. Literally.”
“What?” Spike stopped in his tracks from the surprise, quickly catching up again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said,” the light-coated stallion replied, “When the Pickles and the rest of the unicorns started killing everypony, he just pounced on them, knocked them all cold with his fists, and dragged them out of the village. It was pretty awesome.”
“And he didn’t get himself killed?”
“Oh no, ma’am! You wouldn’t believe how fast this guy can move, given his size, but I tell you he was slapping them senseless before they even had a chance to react! And just after that, he started working on that hammer and shield of his, and those sure came in handy a few times since then.”
The village now surrounded them, thatched-roofed houses making up the vast majority of the few dozen homes around them. It was painfully reminiscent of Ponyville, although on a thankfully smaller scale and with enough distinctive log cabins to dissuade any further comparisons.
“Yep,” the stallion said without looking at them, too busy waving over a brown mare who was already heading straight for them. Upon noticing that she had indeed been made aware of them, the lavender pony returned his attention to them. “Anyway, my parents were weird so my name’s Pearl,” he rolled his eyes at that, “and welcome to Stoneshade! It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
At that point, the mare came within earshot, prompting Pearl to raise his voice ever so slightly. “Uh, Russet here will show you around, I have to go watch what Ty’s doing, you know? See you later!”
The brown-coated, blond-maned mare gave a slight bow and introduced herself. “HI, I’m Russet Gold! You guys must be exhausted from all that walking! Follow me, I’ll show you where you’ll stay.”
She headed off towards the village proper, motioning for them to follow.
“Oh,” Rarity said as she caught up to Russet, “How wonderfully generous of you all to offer us shelter for the night without questions or hesitation! I assure you we are very grateful.”
The mare waved a hoof dismissively. “For the night, and the day after, and as long as we need to let this whole thing blow over, no problem. Don’t worry, we’re not going to just throw you guys back out there. Oh, you’ll love it here!”
Russet walked a few more steps before noticing that the others had stopped following her.
“Uh,” said Spike as the mare turned around inquisitively, “We kinda need to go back out there soon.”
“What? Why would you ever want that?”
“So that is why we need to be back on our way as soon as possible, and why I still don’t understand how it could be a problem.”
The small, dusty kitchen of the recently-abandoned house that they were to spend the night in was a far cry from what Rarity would have been comfortable living in, but it was sufficient for a conversation.
Russet Gold kept her eyes on the detector lying open on the table as she seemed to think over her next words, a hoof to her chin.
“Well,” she eventually said, “it really shouldn’t be a problem, but the keyword here is ‘shouldn’t’, if you know what I mean. …It’s Tyrone.” She ran a hoof through her mane, lingering a bit on a spot just behind her ear. “I don’t think he’ll let you guys leave. He’s become… very protective of us townsponies, and I doubt he’d let a single mare and two children go back out there.”
“But we’ve been fine all the way to here! We can handle it!”
“Yeah, well, look uh… Spike, was it? He… he doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and he’s incredibly hard to convince of… anything, really. …Not that anyone ever tried very hard; I mean, you guys have seen him, right?”
“Yes,” Rarity answered, “but Pearl said he hasn’t always been like that? What happened to him?”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?”
“No one knows, really. He’d been in town for about two days when that whole mess began, he said it was for his hobby. Rock climbing or something, he’d been circling around Old Watcher up there and looking at it a bunch ever since he got here anyway. He kept to himself mostly, and he was very polite and respectful when he talked to us.” The brown mare chuckled a little, showing her age from the budding wrinkles around her eyes as she did so. “He really looked like he enjoyed my famous baked potatoes in any case, I’ll make you some if you want, by the way.“ Russet’s face sobered slightly, forgetting the smile it had held a minute prior. “But when the unicorns began hearing that buzzing, he said he could hear it too and… what?”
The brown pony found herself worried by the terrified looks her guests exchanged. “You… you don’t think he’s going to go insane too, do you?”
Spike scratched his head, mulling the question over for a few seconds. “Well, I don’t know. I only skimmed their notes, but those dragons seemed to have a very hard time calibrating the signal for unicorns specifically. I don’t even think it could affect anything else, even if they could hear it. I’m pretty sure different species’ brains work differently.”
“I sure hope so. …Anyway, not long after that, he became very angry for no reason, and I do mean unreasonably angry. He’d punch walls, break stuff for no reason, and he completely forgot about his plans to climb the rock, and he was actually getting worse as the day went on…”
Tears could be seen gently budding in the corner of Russet’s eyes as she brought her hoof to her mouth before continuing. “He was getting terrifying… we were all scared and then… then the unicorns went completely berserk and he… h-he just…” She ran her hoof over her face, almost mechanically while she inhaled sharply. After a second where she looked away, biting her hoof, she blinked and turned back to her guests. “Sweet Pickle. She had just… hurt somepony, you know? She was just standing there, screaming at the top of her lungs and, and, even I barely saw him coming from behind her, you wouldn’t believe just how fast he can run when he wants. …He, he just literally punched her face into the ground from behind and she, s-she just stopped moving and I don’t, I,”
Rarity moved to lay a comforting hoof on the brown mare’s shoulder but was gently pushed away. Russet took a long breath through her nostrils, her mouth obstructed by her hoof as she held her eyes shut. After releasing her breath, she resumed her tale. “Look, long story short; he knocked them all out one by one as soon as they flipped like that, and then he dragged them out of town, to that crossroads to Baltimare I think. Then he came back, all cut up and bleeding from the few shots he barely dodged, and he started working on those weapons of his, because he said ‘fists aren’t enough’.”
The mare wiped her tears and locked eyes with the trio one by one. “I don’t know if you guys are right about that …signal thing affecting him, but I’m telling you right now: he is dangerous. He’s always angry, and any little thing can send him over the edge. That’s when the fists go flying, and no one wants that.”
Russet rose from her seat, absent-mindedly patting down her blond mane as she turned towards the door. “I’m just a small-time potato farmer, and I don’t know if you’re fibbing me or not about that dragon conspiracy thing, but if you guys are really telling the truth about this, this is way more important than your safety. I’ll try to convince him that it’d be better to let you leave, but he’s very, very dedicated to protecting us from unicorns. He gets… upset when we tell him things he doesn’t want to hear, and it’s even worse when we don’t do what he says.”
She paused with a hoof on the handle. “And I don’t recommend trying to sneak out; despite his attitude, most folk consider Tyrone a blessing for the town and they follow his commands like a bunch of soldiers. There are patrols around town. They probably won’t let you leave either, if only to avoid having an angrier Tyrone on our hooves.”
Russet opened the door, stepped out, and turned to them long enough to add “I’ll see what I can do.” Before closing the door behind herself.
Leaving looks of worry and consternation on the three faces behind her.
This town was stupid. Even ignoring the fact that Old Watcher -as the colossal pillar looming above was called- was standing directly west of town and thus plunging everything in shade as soon as noon rolled around, Scootaloo couldn't help but feel an air of casual hopelessness to it.
The townsponies, numbering around eighty, seemed truly content with living under Tyrone’s frankly tyrannical “protection”, sacrificing comfort for safety instead of organizing their own defenses and keeping most of both.
Stupid.
The foals weren’t much better. Of the only two fillies her age around, one was filled to the brim with empty bravado, talking big and claiming superiority to anything without the actual courage to take any risks; while the second was both completely delusional and extremely cowardly.
“’Daddy went to Canterlot to warn the princesses about these meanie unicorns’, my feathered flank,” the young pegasus muttered. What would normally have been a tragic tale of sorrow regarding the obvious true fate of the filly’s father had been turned into mere annoyance at her delusions by the fact that the three travelers were still trapped in Stoneshade.
Or, as Pearl had so insistently corrected, “hosted” in the small town.
Russet, Pearl, and the two other leader figures of Stoneshade had been back in the evening to inform them that staying in the village was in everyone’s best interest. What followed had been a lengthy discussion about their “obviously misguided” desire to leave, the “nonsense” and “unbelievable” reasons for them to want to do so, and some pleas for the travelers to stay put and refrain from agitating Tyrone. Pleas that soon devolved into threats and shouting as the spirits heated up, until the villagers decided to storm off before attracting Tyrone’s attention.
Before leaving, Russet had attempted to apologize and placate the travelers with a gift of her home-made, potato-based cooking.
Bitter resentment and anger make for terrible spices.
After a short night where the villagers did everything in their power to make the travelers know that they were under constant vigilance, a new day had come.
A day the orange pegasus wished could end soon, sitting under a tree whose shadow had already been consumed by that of Old Watcher. Having the townsfolk encourage their fillies to socialize with her had eaten up her morning; a few vapid, frustrating hours that had soured her mood further until she had managed to sneak away from them.
“There you are, Scootaloo!”
For a time, at least.
Scootaloo groaned as Misty Dew trotted up to her, the pudgy blue filly carrying a worn notebook in her mouth. She dropped it between the two of them before continuing.
“I’ve been looking all over! You could’ve told me you were going to look for a more comfortable spot for us to plan my daddy’s return party for when he comes back from Canterlot!”
Scootaloo pressed her hooves to her forehead, groaning as silently as possible while struggling to stop herself from telling the filly that her father would most likely never come back, provided the town’s adults had not outright lied to her about him even leaving the village in the first place. ‘Going to Canterlot’, sure. A great way to get yourself killed… like Her.
A look at the blue filly’s eager pink eyes brought forth memories of an all-too-similar pony, although one with a mane of many different colors instead of the plain sheet of lavender draped across Misty’s head. One much older as well, admittedly. Scootaloo looked away, her eyes drawn to the sky instead. From the catwalk hanging around Old Watcher’s sides a pegasus dashed away.
What was the point in even telling her? Would Misty even comprehend that her father was probably feeding worms somewhere? What would it accomplish? Even if she understood, even if Scootaloo was the first to try and even if Misty didn’t simply refuse to believe her, what would breaking her heart do for Scootaloo? A few hours of peace? Did Scootaloo really need to bother with any of that?
Through the inane chatter of the blue filly, Scootaloo began hearing voices in the distance.
No. A voice. Drawing closer, and yelling.
Scootaloo’s ears perked up, curiosity flaring. They pivoted around, trying to tune out Misty’s oblivious rambling about which banner color was more appropriate for a grown stallion’s homecoming celebration.
The voice was calling out a name. …Tyrone? Somepony was calling out to Tyrone with panicked, breathless desperation. The young pegasus rose to her hooves, her instincts kicking in. For once, for a short moment, Misty seemed aware of the situation and stopped talking. In the moment of silence, Scootaloo felt and heard something massive drawing closer.
The white pegasus, the vigil who had hastily flown away from Old Watcher moments ago, passed once more overhead.
“H-hey where are you going? If they’re calling Tyrone it could be dangerous!”
Scootaloo paid no heed to the other filly. She was already galloping to follow the hurrying pegasus, both heading towards the fearful voice.
A voice belonging to a dark blue mare who had just burst from the trees on the outskirts of town, sprinting as fast as she could. A mare whose expression changed from one of pure desperation to one of elation when her gaze swept beyond Scootaloo. Not a moment later, the earth-shaking steps coming from behind the filly passed her; Tyrone’s massive shape flew by.
Despite having more than enough room for normal pony activity, the barren, earthen space between the town’s buildings suddenly seemed narrow and diminutive compared to the massive stature of a minotaur running at full speed while holding six times a pony’s volume in metal and concrete.
For an instant his shadow engulfed the running mare as he leaped clean over her head in a single bound. He landed a mere half second before another pony burst from the trees, about fifty feet from him.
The unicorn’s fury was visible on her features for no more than an instant, soon turning to horror as her eyes fell on the relatively bustling village, and then to terror when she noticed Tyrone charging at her.
“No!” She screamed. “NNnnnnrrrrgggraaah!”
Scootaloo’s hooves kicked dirt as she skidded to a halt, instinctively taking cover behind a trashcan when the mare’s horn began glowing, the once-innocuous light now synonymous with imminent bloodshed. The misshapen ball of deadly crystal grew quickly and exploded, a wall of shards racing towards the minotaur.
Still running, he calmly extended his left arm; shield tightly gripped and held forward as he reached as far right as possible. A fraction of a second before the spikes could stab him, he swung the shield back and sideways with great force, swatting the crystals out of the air with a clatter. They scattered harmlessly away. The force of his shield’s swing twisted his torso, bringing his right arm forward in a wide arc. The colossal improvised hammer flew overhead, smashing into the earth a mere dozen feet from the unicorn.
She screamed, more magic gathering within her horn, while Tyrone’s run transitioned into a jump, using the hammer as a jumping pole. His hooves landed heavily, planting themselves in the ground; his torso twisted back as he still clutched the hammer and his entire musculature bracing and bulging.
He swung.
From left to right, with enough force to whistle despite the hammer’s head still clipping the ground, he swung the weapon at the unicorn.
For a second she vanished, lost in the rumble and the wave of dirt kicked upwards. Scootaloo heard her scream, and she saw the crystal spikes misfiring wildly to lose themselves in the forest.
The dirt fell down and with it, a limp form slid down the trunk of the tree it had just met.
Tyrone stood there, breathing heavily as he watched the unmoving unicorn. Some blood dripped from his left arm. She did not rise.
Raising his head, Tyrone yelled to the sky. “ANYONE ELSE WANT SOME?!”
There was no response, only villagers slowly emerging from their hiding places to congratulate him.
“So, we’re really stuck here, then?”
In the precocious darkness of the evening, Spike, Rarity and Scootaloo shared a meal. Potato salad, once more graciously offered by Russet; the kind farmer seemed to be the main provider of the town’s food supply.
Spike took a moment to savor the food, relishing how normal it felt. Trying to forget how unusual that had become for him.
“For now, I guess,” he finally spoke. “I snuck a look at their patrol trail, it’s… it has a great view. It’s clean, wide, and they have a lot of ponies watching it; at least five at any time. Plus there’s that pegasus on the catwalk for even more eyes to avoid, and the villagers to watch out for. Sneaking out of here is going to be a real pain.”
“And there’s no way we could get out by force,” Scootaloo added, shaking her head. “This Tyrone guy is basically unbeatable. He’s faster than any of us and we couldn’t hurt him if we tried.”
“We need a distraction,” Rarity said after a bite. “I talked to the ponies around here, and they all seem to share the same cautious… ‘optimism’ that it’s better to just stay put until this blows over, or that someone else will take care of it.” She brought a hoof to her forehead, rubbing it gently. “Either that or ‘because Tyrone said so’.” She sighed, looking back up at her companions. “Convincing them otherwise is going to take longer than we care to afford.”
“So we need to wait for a distraction then,” Scootaloo concluded. “Next time a unicorn comes around here, we just get out in the opposite direction while he’s too busy dealing with them.”
“Yeah,” Spike simply answered, “Let’s keep our stuff packed up so that we can go as soon as we get a chance.”
Rarity blearily opened her eyes for the second time that day. The first occasion had occurred when the sun had risen above the treetops, assaulting her with a sudden ray through the curtain-less window. She had opted to turn around and fall back asleep lest she be reminded of the terrible tedium of her new life in Stoneshade.
A life she would hopefully escape soon, and in more than just her dreams.
The panicked screams filtering in from outside told her that “soon” might be even sooner than she could have hoped.
She jumped to a standing position on the bed, hastily scanning her immediate surroundings as stress surged through her body.
Spike was also standing, looking around as if the walls could become invisible were one to peer at them with enough want. Their eyes met, both pairs open wide and filled with rising panic and questions; the most prominent among them being ‘what is happening?’
Without a word, they threw themselves at their packs, just as the door burst open under the hooves of a frantically running Scootaloo.
“Something’s happening!” the filly yelled, scrambling for her own belongings without sparing even a glance at her companions. “I don’t know what, but we gotta scram!” She struggled for a few seconds with the numerous straps of her pouches, paused for an instant and simply threw everything in a loose pile on the nearest bed.
“What do you mean you don’t know what’s going on? There’s probably a unicorn, right?”
“No.” Her reply was partially muffled by the act of tying a knot in the bed sheet she had wrapped around her things. She spat it out to continue. “Not a unicorn; a huge bunch of pegasi just came out of nowhere and started yelling all over the place! I don’t know what they want but I’m sure I don’t even want to find out! Let’s move!”
As she dashed towards the door, a booming voice from somewhere uncomfortably close outside echoed, making her falter in her run.
“I want everypony outside their houses now! Don’t make us come and get you!” The voice’s tone then grew somewhat more personal and surprisingly angrier when it added “Blue team! Green team! I said I want that damn thing on the ground right now!”
The three looked at each other; a single, silent plea exchanged between them: ‘Get ready to run’.
A bellowing roar from Tyrone shook the windows and at that moment, the three travelers began moving at last.
Only to find themselves held at spear-point as soon as they passed the threshold.
“Woah there, you three,” the spear-wielding pegasus said with a malicious grin. “What’s the big rush? You wouldn’t want to get hurt now, would you?”
A second pegasus landed next to the first one, his own spear at the ready. Everywhere in town, the villagers were similarly threatened. The few who ran or tried to fight were quickly subdued, tackled to the ground or knocked out.
A good two dozen pegasus were whirling around the raging form of Tyrone, constantly kicking him in the back while he spun around in his best attempts to smash them out of the air with his weapon. Whenever he managed to strike one of the strangers, no less than two more took its place. In a few minutes, he was brought to his knees, and then face-first on the ground under the weight of six nets and enough ponies to hide him completely from sight.
A tall, muscular pegasus put the following silence to good use by leaping up to the roof of the tallest house in town. He wore a familiar golden helmet, one usually seen adorning the proud brows of the royal guard; although his demeanor and the rest of his outfit swore otherwise. Aside from the helmet, the only thing he wore was a blue sash embroidered with the image of a simplified white tower standing on a cloud.
“Listen up you worms,” he shouted, revealing the unknown authoritative voice to be his own. “We got mouths to feed, you got the food, and I hope I don’t got to explain exactly what’s going to happen here now, do I?”
A second of silence passed while the villagers looked up at the pegasus, most mouths held agape.
“What!?”
Russet’s outraged question was quickly followed up by Pearl’s own voice rising as he stepped forward despite the spears he immediately found held at his throat. “You can’t take our food! It’s ours! Who are you all?”
“Oh?” The white pegasus put a hoof to his chest to emphasize his obviously fake concern. He glided down towards Pearl as he added: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”
He nudged the spears away from Pearl’s neck, replacing them with his hoof around the smaller stallion’s shoulders. “Tell you what, buddy –can I call you buddy? – There’s just one thing you need to know: I. Don’t. Care.” The white pegasus punctuated his last three words by violently scrubbing Pearl’s mane with his free hoof before shoving him down, eliciting laughs from the other pegasus newcomers.
“Alright ladies! Enough fooling around! Start rounding up whatever you can find in this mud pit so we can split it and be done!”
“See?” his voice mellowed out as he turned back to Pearl, although it still kept an obvious contemptuous edge. “We’re not monsters; we’ll let you keep some of the food.”
At that, a younger-looking soldier added “And you can just graze anyway if that’s not enough!”
Some of the invaders laughed at the remark, their leader content with simply smirking.
One of the two warriors keeping an eye on Spike, Rarity and Scootaloo had been squinting at them for a while when he suddenly spoke up, yelling sideways with his eyes still fixed on them.
“Hey Cap’n? Dun’ that look like of o’them elements of ‘armony mares?”
“What?” the white ‘captain’ yelled back, jumping and gliding over to the group. His icy blue gaze fell upon them, and Rarity drew the other two closer to her, as if aiming to shield them. “Hm, yeah, she does seem familiar, private.”
“W-what do you want with us,” Rarity stammered. “Who are you all?”
“Think the major will want to talk to them?” The first pegasus, who had halted their escape just beyond the doorway, asked the captain.
The muscular Stallion rubbed his chin, obviously growing more disinterested by the second, before shrugging. “Worth a shot, I guess.” He spread his wings once more, returning to his previous perch on the tall house. “Bag’em,” he casually ordered as he left.
“What? No! Wait! Get away from us!”
Despite Rarity’s protests, a third soldier came closer, three bags held under a wing. With help from the spear-wielders ensuring a minimum of reluctant cooperation, the bags were placed and tied over the three’s heads. They struggled at first, but quickly realized they were hopelessly outmatched and outnumbered.
The warning stab given to Spike’s hide only confirmed the sentiment.
Once properly blindfolded, they were led away, eventually being guided up into the bed of a cart, and then onto a strange metallic floor. With the creaking sound of a pair of hinges, they knew they had been put in a cage.
The next half hour or so was spent huddled in silence, the faintest whisper answered by an order to shut up from a soldier obviously perched atop the cage itself to watch them. After a few minutes, a heavy object was thrown on the cart next to the prison, and then another. This continued for a moment, the dull rhythm of the cart being loaded the only faint distraction from the constant terror of being held captive.
The Captain’s voice kept echoing around the village, supervising his troops in the raid on Stoneshade.
Eventually, the three captives heard him much closer, a dozen feet at most.
“Red team, ready?”
A chorus of voices answered a synchronized “Aye, Sir!” even closer, all around the captives.
“Careful with the wounded, you hear? Liftoff!”
The cage, the cart jolted forward, gaining speed and a stomach-churning amount of altitude compounded by the blindfolds. Rarity held the other two even tighter than before, while Spike clutched the iron bars of the cage’s floor.
Before the rising sound of rushing winds swallowed his voice, they heard the captain shouting again, calling out to the rest of his troops.
“Green, Blue, Yellow, Black! On my mark, all teams withdraw! …Liftoff!"
And Stoneshade was left behind, the last sign of its presence below being the resounding screams of rage from Tyrone.
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My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
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Next chapter: Our heroes stop being "the three".
Man, first they had to deal with the Signal and the poor Unicorns that it is affecting, then they discovered that evil Dragons are responsible for said Signal, recently we find out it might be affecting beings other than Unicorns, and now we got rogue Pegasi. Gee, the group is just not having any luck at all. Curious to what is up with these new 'problems' and who this 'Major' is...
Short C&C:
“W-what do you want with us,” rarity stammered.
> Capitalize 'rarity'.
4478425
Gahhhh!
One day. One day I'll put up a new chapter without embarrassing typos...
4478111 That is simultaneously ominous and hopeful.
Maybe its the D&Der in me but man they started this journey poorly prepared.
They've already run into occasions where rope and traveling cloaks would've been invaluable. Should've had Twilight make them an 'adventuring gear' checklist.
And I'm curious to see how they keep the dragons from just rebuilding the broadcasters. Hell, they'd probably need to hijack and reprogram one just to start undoing the damage.
4481077
Well, coming from a society who deems "six untrained, unarmed mares" appropriate force to deal with an adult dragon, I'd say most of them are indeed utterly unable to grasp how lacking they are. But Scoots did bring a crossbow though.
Also, they had no idea what they were going to find, and they figured the best way to deal with the unicorns (their only predictable obstacle) was to simply avoid them; they favored mobility over the idea of carrying a batman's worth of tools and gear.
As for the emitter crystals, it did take sixty-nine days for Ahrkalzahn to carve all three of them, so nearly a month each. And that's not counting building the machine itself, nor the search for appropriate crystals to carve. Spike and co. have only been traveling for twenty-two days, eleven since breaking the first emitter. Even if Ahrky started repairing his stuff the very next day, they would still have quite a bit of time.
4483128
Okay, I can buy ignorance and desire to keep their weight down. Still, there're some lightweight travel supplies that're practically mandatory for a trip through any sort of wilderness(they were walking through the wild along the train tracks from the beginning). Spike lived in a library. I'm sure there were books on the subject.
Sure, maybe the 10 foot pole is overkill.. but I have personal short list of things I always bring when hunting or going for a hike. Rope(paracord really) is on that list.
And as for the signal.. They may have some breathing room, but they have to negate the other two, which will likely be guarded, within that period, neutralize the dragons and recode a tower to help or reprogram the mentally damaged unicorns. Thats a hell of a time limit to be working with.
Probably would've been a boon to steal the jerk's schematics. Make it easier to set it to Dragon and code in 'Stop being jackasses'.
4478111 OOOOH! teasers!
And the Major is Rainbow Dash....
I don't usually read these kind of dark apocalypse stories, but this one reminds me of The Mist by Stephen King. The fact that this is exceptionally well written doesn't hurt.
Noted as one of the best authors on this site that I know.
4735201
Woah. That's... very flattering.
Thank you.
4735317
Meh!
Don't get too flattered, wouldn't want to get you flattened...
I have about 6 other authors that I respect.
I really hope we'll get to read more of this soon <3
This story and it's prequel disgust me on a core part of my being. The crimes of these dragons literally make me sick to my stomach, and what makes it all worse it that there is no way for this to end okay. Even if they succeed and somehow prevent the emitters from being rebuilt, what has been done cannot be undone. The condition of these unicorns is terrifying and heart wrenching on a level my mind cannot even begin to fathom.
The only reasons I have stopped reading is for a mental break after Archives, and because I ran out of chapters. This is spectacular. I'm gonna be trying to unwrench my gut all day now. Seriously, I like dark stuff in general, but this is intense.
But now I am babbling. Tl;dr: so horrifying I can't stop reading.
4855986
That is some awesome praise.
I just finished this chapter and I'm all caught up!
(Wait, she's dead.) 
(Oh, she's still M.I.A.) 
(No, she's brainwashed right now!) 
(That works, I think.)
Anyway, this has to be my favorite story I've read in a long time!
So now we're escalating this shit?
4857722 There's also Warlord Applejack and Medic Fluttershy.
A return to tribalism? Still, this tough pegasi stuff.. Maybe Rainbow Dash is alive! And being a bitch. Yes. Seems legit.
Also, I just found this sequel yesterday and it's freakin' awesome. I love it, and the project Manhattan--Er.. Ethereal Overlord stuff just blew me away.
Buffalo, diamond dogs, and minotaurs won't be en vogue once that archive is common knowledge. Gosh.
3 words.
Jesus Fucking Christ. (JFC)
After reading the prequel and this, I find myself literally on the edge of my seat. One of the most horrifyingly dark stories I've seen, period. No, scratch that, the most horrifying, sad, dark, 'JFC' story there is.
I eagerly await the next chapter.
-Powers
Not going to lie, this is turning out to be a great series. The reveal of the dragons is a real neat touch, and "Tyrant" was clever in how you thought it was going one way, but is now going another. Frankly, I'm really aching for the next chapter of this saga; that's right, I'm calling it a saga, because it's almost to the point of "epic". Keep this up, Lord Destrustor, and the frequenters of FIMFiction will be singing praises to your works.
I had favorited the first story because I had thought it seemed a little promising. I'm glad I did, little did I know that it would turn into a huge story that has me full of anticipation for more! After reading the first story, albeit short, I had decided to start reading the sequel. Need I say it's a tremendous story? I wouldn't think so. Keep up the good work and I hope the story continues soon!
Gotta say I've really been enjoying this fic. Above other similar style stories and fics because of one unique consideration. Most of the horses are still stupidly nice to a fault. You managed to incorporate what is one of the strongest attributes of the franchise in a disaster/end of the world style of stories. And for that, I salute you.
Just read the whole thing including the one shot and coming into it I thought I'd read some dark stories. I've never seen one this dark, ever. The level of planning and evil the bad guys put into this is unspeakable. I mean not even nazis were that bad (though they probably wanted to be). The one thing that sets this aside from the other dark stories I've read is the tiny bit of hope that still burns for Spike and company. A lot of end of the world stories are either too hopeful or hopeless, yours sneaks in just a fragment of hope that maybe Spike can stop the signal and maybe even reverse the effects (or even get some revenge). I hope you update again soon.
5074242
5075049
Aw, thanks... You guys are making it sound like I'm some kind of genius, and that's a nice feeling.
And yes, the next chapter is coming very soon...There's just one little decision I need to make.
So yeah, soon. Like, 6k-words-already soon.
5075610
Glad to hear you won't keep us waiting forever. While long stories are always a lesson in patience, its fun to watch the subtle changes and improvements in an author's style as time goes by. It keeps me coming back for more, even though I prefer to read things once they're complete. Well that and the fact I've GOT to know what happens next doesn't hurt either.
SKY BANDITS!
I APPROVE!
Interesting, if sad, story, but I have a hard time buying that the pegasi turned into a bunch of jackasses overnight.
Makes sense that something like this would happen. With no central authority in Equestria, there is nothing stopping petty criminals and the deranged from forming raiding parties.