Shattered

by sunstar93

Chapter II

The chainmail of my armor jingles with every step I take, like a tiny bell. My hooves are still sore from the earlier procedure, so I walk a little slower than Father, but he keeps his pace and doesn’t slow down for me. It is cool inside the stone building, and there is one long hallway leading down to a main room, guarded by a heavy wood door. We pass two rooms before reaching the end of the hall, their doors unlocked, and I know they are mostly empty on the inside. Father raises a hoof and knocks twice, to be courteous. Then he pushes the door open and we step inside.

Applejack stands with her back to us, examining a map of Equestria with her one good eye. She studies the area to the south of us, where there is a white pin stuck into a dot labeled “MANEHATTEN”. The only city occupied by House Whitegold, it is surrounded by an immense fortress to protect its wealthy citizens.

“Well?” Applejack’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. She turns to face us, walking behind her desk so she can see both of us. “It took ya’ll longer than Ah’d anticipated. FIllydelphia ain’t that far away.”

“We were attacked by Whitegold forces,” I explain hastily. Father shoots me a look and I realize I should not have spoken out of turn. He is, after all, a higher rank than I am. My ears flick back in embarrassment and I take a half step backwards.

“Go on,” Applejack prompts. I am surprised she didn’t scold me for speaking before Father, but I clear my throat and continue.

“Last night they ambushed us from our camp, mostly Arqueteers and militia. They surprised us, it was dark with no moon, and we lost a lot of our infantry. But we did beat them back, thanks to Father’s organizing the canoneers and ponies-at-arms.” If Father’s face were not already red, I’m sure he would be blushing from embarrassment. He is a modest pony and doesn’t like to take all the credit.

“Didn’t ya’ll have a sentry or somethin’? Ah thought we discussed that when we were attacked last month on the way to Dodge Junction.” Applejack’s steely voice radiates frustration, and my ears flick back again, pressed down close to my neck. “Well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, my voice shaky. “I was on duty.” Applejack stomps her hoof and snorts with irritation. More than irritation: not quite in a rage, but far past annoyance.

“What were ya doin’, then? Huh?!”

“I was on guard. But I just didn’t see them coming. I don’t know, I just didn’t. Not until they were close enough to start attacking.” My stomach knots and I can see that, now, she is angry. She comes around from behind the desk and pushes her face up into mine.

“So it’s your fault, ain’t it? We lost perfectly good ponies all ‘cause you didn’t see ‘em comin’?!” This is not just about losing ponies. This is about losing to House Whitegold, led by Mistress Rarity, one of Applejack’s enemies. It is more of a personal blow than anything, because it makes Applejack seem weak and unable to defend her ponies against a simple attack. Usually she would not be so angry, but maybe it is because I am her blood, a pillar of House Earthborn.

Father steps between us, his massive body becoming a barrier against Applejack’s fury. “Now, AJ,” he says, his voice deep and slow, calming. “It was a mistake. Now, it wasn’t as bad as ya think. And Ah was the one who asked him to stand guard. Not all his fault, ya know.” Suddenly I feel like a foal again, hiding behind my father as he protected me from bullies and nightmares. “Storm, go on,” he instructs, and I back out of the room, closing the door as I exit.

The home I share with my father is a small three-room building, crudely constructed and not built with comfort in mind. My aunt Applebloom resides in the third room, but, as master blacksmith, is hardly ever here. There are a couple of lights on, old-fashioned oil lanterns that don’t require electricity. Electricity is regulated by the ponies in Canterlot and Manehatten, and we in New Ponyville are denied the luxury of power.

I remove my armor and place it in the chest in the corner of my room. My black coat shines with sweat in the low lighting, dripping down my neck and legs. Scars cover my barrel and back. Some are from training, thin white lines that barely broke skin; others are naked gray slashes where the hair never grew back. One such scar snakes down my neck, parallel to my mane, and curls around the slope of my shoulder. I can faintly remember how I acquired it: locked in battle with a House Moon and Star warrior.

I remember him trying to use his magic to slice open my armor and expose my skin, where more damage could be inflicted. He succeeded, slitting open the plate metal and managing to reach my skin underneath, burning through my hide. I remember the agony: I felt like I was on fire, the stench of singed hair and charred skin enough to make me nauseous, smoke rising from the path his magic had made down my neck. I feel my neck muscles tense as I recall the memory, and I shake my head to suppress it.

Father finally arrives home a while later. He trudges through the door and to his room, heaving off his armor. He looks worn and defeated, utterly exhausted.

“What did she say?” I ask warily. “Anything about me?”

“Eeyup,” he answers, shaking himself off. I can see that he, too, is layered with scars. Farm experience and battle wounds have treated him harshly. My stomach drops. “Said somethin’ ‘bout wantin’ to talk to ya tomorrow.”

My legs shake as I approach the door. I feel even more vulnerable without my armor, but it wouldn’t have protected me from her scathing words.

“’Bout time you showed up,” Applejack complained as I entered her office

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes,” she says. She is analyzing something on her desk but pushes it aside. “I realize I may have been a bit harsh yesterday.” She’s apologizing? “Mac told me he put you in charge and that it was real dark out. Ah was just…afraid. Of losin’ more of my family.”

This is a softer side of Applejack I’ve never seen before. I’m not really sure what to say, if I should say anything.

“Ya know, I remember when you were just a li’l colt. Runnin’ around the farm, not worried ‘bout a thing. Your legs getting’ all tangled up and cryin’ for your daddy.” I see a small smile creep up as she remembers. “Big Mac loved you with all his heart…still does. I’ve never seen him be prouder. He used to worry ‘bout you all the time, gettin’ into trouble or gettin’ hurt. We had to convince him that that’s what colts do.”

Honestly, it’s bizarre to see Applejack so…happy. And then a thought crosses my mind, one that hasn’t surfaced for years. Before I can stop myself, I impulsively ask the one question I’ve never had the answer to:

“Who was my mother?”

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait!
The next chapter will be better, and won't take so long!

Comments

[sunstar93]

You mean "his" mother? Lol don't worry I won't tell! Then that would ruin it

[sunstar93]

@Black Hoof:
You will have to wait and see! Hehe but I promise it won't take me a week to put up the next chapter!
But I can guarantee he won't like her answer..that's all I'm giving away