A Pony Born to Fight

by WyvernQueen

Chapter 4

Here I am again, on a train, watching the land go by at a fantastic rate. But this time I get farther and
farther from what I had hoped my post-injury life would be like. I don't know what I expected, actually; it
was doubtful that with an injury like mine they would let me fight again. But there was always that
chance, like a mirage of an oasis in a desert, and now that it was gone all I had left were the hot sun and
arid sands.

A part of me argues that I'm being unfair. I don't know that this Ponyville would be such a bad place. I
should at least give it a chance, right?

The other part of me, which is still a little hungover and grumpy, tells my optimistic half to shut up.
It takes a few hours to get to Ponyville, and in those few hours the very last of my hangover fades away
and I feel a little better about my decision (was it really mine? The Princess said that I picked the place,
but I don't remember the conversation, and I remember everything else that happened when I was
sober). Buying a house is a big deal to most ponies. It means that I'm settling down, ready to stay in one
place for the rest of my life, ready to start a family.

I shudder. I've never really been big on the whole family thing, considering that the only family I have left
me on the doorstep of an orphanage twenty-eight years ago. Family is just something that is obligation, a
tie of blood that keeps you together until you grow old enough to set out on your own. It's the same
with a house. To me, buying a house isn't really a big deal. It's just a place to sleep after a day of...

Of doing what? What would I spend my days doing in a sleepy little town with a Cutie Mark of crossed
swords? Fighting's my specialty, but unless Ponyville has a mob of some sort, or some kind of night guard
job, my options are limited.
I rest my head against the cool interior of the train, unable to believe what I had just thought. A night
guard? Really? I killed for a living (literally. I fought for my life in the war, we all did), came home
with scars of a warrior, and I was considering a job guarding some bakery or farm? Pathetic.

The ponies around me are laughing, talking, having a good time. It's a lot different from the train to
Canterlot, where every pony was silent and kept to themselves. One pony in particular, a pink Earth Pony
with a curly pink mane and a Cutie Mark of three ballons, bounces happily in her seat and laughs at the
jokes of the other passengers. Occasionally she'll pull some random thing from nowhere; first it's a
rubber duck, then a sparkler (it's still lit when it disappears, so wherever it goes I hope she put it out),
then a small alligator who sits on her head and stares off into the distance.
Her aura is so bubbly and energetic that you can't help but lean towards her when she laughs. Suddenly
she notices me, and by the way her eyes lock onto mine I can tell she means serious (or maybe silly)
business.

"Ohmygosh! Hi, I'm Pinkie Pie, I live in Ponyville, that's where you're going, right?" With hardly a pause
to notice my nod she continues in a rush. "Wow! Are you visiting a friend or family or are you some sort
of secret alien spy come to steal all our brains?"

I blink. She talks so fast and bounces around so much that I can barely focus. "I'm moving to Ponyville
permanently, Miss Pie. I'm Ghost Anlace, it's nice to... meet you..."

I trail off as she seems to turn to living stone. She doesn't blink or move or even breathe for a few
seconds, and I'm starting to worry when she explodes. "YOU'REMOVINGTOPONYVILLE?!? OH MY GOSH
THIS IS SO GREAT!!"

She flies from her seat and all I see is a pink blur opening the door to the next carriage down before
Pinkie Pie is gone. The other ponies don't seem to notice her sudden explosion or her disappearance. A
mare, another Earth Pony with orange fur and whiteish hair, chuckles upon my thunderstruck
expression.

"Ah'm sorry 'bout Pinkie, Mr. Anlace. She gets real excited over just 'bout everythang, and a new pony
movin' to town gets her... well, you saw her." The mare adjusts her hat and shifts in her seat as the train
hits a bump, and I catch a glance of her Cutie Mark. Three apples, red as blood, along with the hat and
the accent mean that she must be a farmer.

I nod and ask, "Are you a friend of hers?"

"Yeah, Pinkie and me're friends. I'll tell ya, though, that girl is hard ta' keep up with, ya know?" The mare starts a little and extends a hoof. "Oh, I'm Applejack. Nice ta meet cha, Mr. Anlace."

I take her hoof in mine and say, "Please, call me Ghost. Your Cutie Mark... are you a farmer?"

She nods, a grin breaking out on her face. "Yup. Sweet Apple Acres, ma farm, is in Ponyville. I went to
Canterlot ta sell a few barrels of cider, but I ended up sellin' 'em all, seein' as the war ended. You're a
military stallion, right? Your Cutie Mark gives it away."

I'm glad that she doesn't allude to my injury, seeing as so many others do. Applejack doesn't seem to be the type of mare to point out those types of things. She has a nice smile and kind, truthful eyes. As we
lapse into comfortable silence (or, at least, the most comfortable silence that can pass between
strangers), the train slows and stops. A uniformed mare (not the same one as before) walks down the
aisle and announces that we have arrived in Ponyville.
As I get off the train, I realize that I have no idea where my house is. I ran out the door so fast that I had
no time to ask. This could prove problematic, as it's six o'clock and the sun is making its way to the
horizon. Applejack leaves to find both her friend Pinkie Pie and her bags, while I am luggage free and
simply walk off.

I think about asking some of the ponies I pass heading out the station door about my house situation,
but I don't know how exactly to phrase the question. Do you know where in Ponyville you could find a
house that's been sold recently? I'm looking for mine, you see, and I was in such a rush to get to the train
here that I forgot to ask doesn't seem like such a good way to approach it. Neither does excuse me,
could you direct me to the nearest empty house?
I'm wandering down the main road when the unmistakeable smell of baked pastries reaches my nostrils.
My stomach growls, and I remember that I've had nothing to eat since my post-drinking breakfast this
morning, and that I emptied my stomach the night before. I'm absolutely starving, so I open the door of
the bakery, which bears the name Sugarcube Corner, and take a big breath.

The smells make my mouth water so badly that I have to swallow at least ten times before I get it under
control. The mare at the counter smiles at me and says, "Well hello there! You must be new in town. I'm
Mrs. Cake. Is there anything you like that I can get for you?"Another problem arises: I have no bits to pay for anything. As I realize that, my face falls, and I have to sit down to prevent from collapsing from hunger and exhaustion. I must look terrible, because Mrs. Cake comes around the counter and sits with me at my table. Her face bears an expression of motherly concern when she says, "Oh dear, what's the matter? Are you feeling okay?"

I smile faintly and say, "I'm just a little hungry, Mrs. Cake, and I just remembered that I don't have any
bits to buy food. Really stupid of me, huh?"

She tsks and walks behind the counter again, heading to the back room. She emerges a minute later with
a plate, upon which three cupcakes sit. My eyes widen as she puts the plate down in front of me. "Two
of these are for you, Mr...?"

Why is she doing this for somepony whose name she doesn't even know? Most shop owners would kick
me out the moment I confessed to not having any bits. A lot of them would want me out because of my
scars, which are mostly attributed to gangs, but Mrs. Cake doesn't even seem to see them. I hold out my
hoof. "Ghost Anlace. Thank you, Mrs. Cake, but really, you don't have to..."

She shakes it, holding the other up to stop me mid-sentence. "It's not any trouble, dear. These cupcakes
would just go uneaten anyway, since we're just about to close up shop. Now, you came in on the train,
right?" She sits at the table and watches me devour the first cupcake. When I nod, she continues. "Did
you happen to meet a pony by the name of Pinkie Pie on the train?"

I swallow the last crumbs of the carrot cupcake and say, "Yes, I did. She's very... hyper, isn't she?"

Mrs. Cake grins ruefully. "Yes, Pinkie can be a bit of a handful, but she's a very kind girl at heart. She
works here, you know, and I'm waiting for her to get back. I assume, because you have no bags, that
you're moving to Ponyville?"

I finished the second cupcake and brush the crumbs off my fur. "Yes, and that's the other thing I forgot
before getting on the train. I don't actually know where my house is, and I don't know who to ask." I'm a little embarrassed to say it out loud, but since Mrs. Cake is kind enough to give me free food, I feel the
need to come clean with her.

"Well, dear, there's only one house for sale in Ponyville at the moment, but... well..." She trails off, a
puzzled look on her face. Interested, I lean forward.

"What's wrong, Mrs. Cake?"

She points behind me at the door, and I turn. What I see sucks the breath from my lungs. A multi-colored
pegasus is speeding towards the front of the shop with no sign of stopping, a rainbow trail drunkenly following behind. I hit the floor under the table and pull Mrs. Cake with me, covering her with my hooves.
Just in time, too. The next sound is that of shattering glass, and huge shards of the stuff skid past us on
the floor. I feel minuscule pieces bury themselves in my fur, but I don't think they drew any blood. My
world goes gray, and then I'm sucked into a flashback.

It's early morning, just after the moon has disappeared over the horizon, and I wake up in my sleeping bag.We’ve been trekking across the savannah for days, and the constant heat means that nothing is ever really dry. The only upside is that the ground is level enough so that setting up tents is a breeze. Yawning, I push aside the flap of my tent. Everypony else has made their way to the campfire, where breakfast is being served. I trot over to Mist, who also appears to have just woken, and murmur, "What's for breakfast?"

"Carrot cake and hay fries with a strawberry smoothie, served on Princess Celestia's finest china." He
says, a grumpy scowl on his face. When I raise an eyebrow, he sighs. "Oatmeal and bananas, just like
we've had for the past ten days. You really expect something different?”

I shrug, trying to roll out some of the kinks in my back from sleeping on the ground. I get my bowl of oatmeal and walk to the outskirts of the tents, watching the golden grass roll in the warm morning sun. Mist joins me, and we chat for a little before he holds a hoof up for silence. Frowning, his ears perk up, and I follow suit. A low droning, like bees, comes from the west. Both Mist and I are new to war, but any sound like that this early in the morning can’t be good. We trot to the commander, who is eating lunch right by the fire, and tell him about the noise. At first he just dismisses it, but it grows until even in the bustle of the camp it’s loud.
That’s when the first ball shatters on the ground.

Black streaks shoot over us, flying too fast for us to identify anything other than the fact that they’re zebras. “Take cover!” the commander yells, pushing both Mist and I into his tent. Before I get fully inside, I get a glimpse of what exactly we’re being attacked with. Giant glass balls are being dropped in the camp, the shards cutting deeply into flesh of unfortunate men who, minutes before, were laughing.
One of the stallions is dead on the ground, glass sticking from his eye and throat. Blood pools on the ground, and the screams of the ponies are something that I know I will never forget. More glass shatters, and one huge shard cuts through the tent and whistles past me, cutting my side slightly. All three of us curl into balls to present less of a target, and I struggle not to cry as the sound of carnage rages on outside. I close my eyes, the image of the dead stallion plastered on the inside of my eyelids. I don’t even know his name…

I snap out of it, finding myself still in the bakery, covered in glass dust. Mrs. Cake is saying something beneath me, but my ears are ringing too hard for me to understand. Finally, some of her words get through. “…Ghost? Are you alright? Did you get hurt?”

I roll over, thumping against the side of the seat. My breath comes in short gasps, and whenever I blink I see the dead stallion whose name I don’t know, whose body must be rotting in the emptiness of the savannah while the golden grass rolls in the heat of the sun. Suddenly, a blue face appears above me. A mare, her face cut from the glass shards and twisted in worry, says, “Are you okay? I meant to pull up, but I didn’t make it in time. Sweet Celestia, I’m sorry, Mrs. Cake. I’ll pay to replace the window, I swear, and I’ll clean everything up.”

The door jingles and I hear an unmistakable voice. “Wow, what happened here? Dashie, have you been drinking? Because you only drink at parties, and I haven’t thrown a party yet, and nopony else throws parties, oh! Unless somepony is throwing a secret party, in which case you have to tell me where it is because I’ve always wanted to have a secret party—”

Another voice cuts Pinkie off, one that I don’t recognize. “Mrs. Cake, are you alright? I was walking down to grab a muffin for Spike tomorrow and I saw what happened. Here, let me clean the floor up so nopony gets cut.”

From my view on the floor, I see glass shards lifted into the air and carried into a neat pile before the counter. I test my hooves, raising my head and blinking to try and get the bloody image out of my head. The sight of a purple unicorn, a blue pegasus and a pink Earth Pony greet me. The blue pegasus, who is still bleeding, shakes her head. “I’m really sorry, mister. I was trying out this cool new move, but it got a little out of control.”

Pinkie squints at me and breaks into a wide grin, bouncing up and down so fast that she’s a blur. “Ohmygosh! You’re the stallion who’s moving to Ponyville, right? You know what that means? A PARTY! I have to get everything ready, and we’ll have cake and decorations and streamers and rubber ducks—nothing can go wrong with rubber ducks! I’ll start getting ready!”

She streaks towards the counter, jumping both the pile of glass and the wood in one graceful bound, and disappears into the back room. The purple unicorn sighs and mutters, “I guess it’s up to me to be polite,” and sticks out her hoof, her slightly grumpy expression melting into a smile. “Hi, I’m Twilight Sparkle. This is Rainbow Dash, and that pony there was Pinkie Pie. She said something about you moving in, was that true, Mr…?”

She says it in almost the same way Mrs. Cake does. I reach out, trying to stifle the slight tremble in my hoof, and say, “My name is Ghost Anlace. It’s a pleasure to meet you, but I really have to get going. Mrs. Cake, where did you say the house that had been sold recently was?” I’m being a bit abrupt, but I feel like I’m going to scream, and doing so here wouldn’t be good.

She blinks, flicking her tail to dispel any bits of glass dust stuck there. “It’s just down the street here, Ghost, past the library a little. You’ll see it; it’s hard not to. Are you sure you’re alright?”

I manage a smile and nod, heading for the door. One I’m out into the orange sunset, I start to gallop away. My breath comes short after a minute, but I push on, trying to outrun my memories. Past a giant tree whose sign reads “Ponyville Public Library”, there is one house. One gigantic house the size of three Sugarcube Corners. I stumble to the door, upon which a note and key are taped. The note reads, “Ghost Anlace”, but I don’t read it. I rip the key from the door, shove it into the lock and charge inside, slamming and locking the door behind me. My training roars to meet me in this new house, and I shove furniture against the door and windows, preventing a break-in. I rush upstairs, pushing open the first door I can find to reveal a blue bedroom. I lock the windows and the door, check the bathroom, and wedge chairs under both doors. Then, I dive under the bed. It’s only when I’m jammed under there, with almost complete darkness thanks to the bed skirt, that my trembling slows and then stops. I start to count the minutes, and when it gets to two hours my eyelids are heavy enough so that when I close them I sink into a confusing bubble of glass and distortion, with blood dripping into my eyes and making it hard to see. I see the dead stallion again, the same haunting image, but this time it’s me who lies there, not breathing, surrounded by a pool of crimson.
Then there is only darkness as my dreams are swept away and sleep greets me.

Author's Note:

Okay, when I say "weekly update", I mean whenever my muse sits me down and tells me to write. Its been doing that a lot lately, so I might have to scrap the 'on a fixed day' updates and assure all of you that there WILL be one chapter per week. There might even be two, if my co-authors are up for it. I NEVER post without a co-author, that goes for original stuff and fanfics, fanfics especially.
So sit back, relax and enjoy! There are going to be a few pairings in here, about half OC-- Mane Six and half canon ponies-- Mane Six. I won't tell you any, so eagerly anticipate them!

Comments

[PaddedCell]

I've only read the description and I'm already convinced I'm gonna like this one.

[WyvernQueen]

2977130 Well thank you! I appreciate it! (Now if only my co-authors would go online so I can post chapter five... I'm getting to the point where hunting them down might be an option )

[PaddedCell]

2977140
Co-authors, eh? I doubt I could ever work with 'em. I'm too protective of my own ideas.

[WyvernQueen]

2977362 both of my co authors are cool, they'd never try anything like stealing my idea.

The fact that I know where they live and go to the same school as them is irrelevant.

[Skalula7]

oh dear i can just imagine what the start of the surprise party might be like