Quills and Sofas Anthology

by Scrying Mind

The Battle of Appleloosa

The ponies tore the land to shreds in fear
of moon, if Canterlot they called their home,
or sun, if Albion had given shade
to rebel thoughts they harbored in their heads.
The new machines of iron and of gold
tore into sacred sites. For new machines
were always needed. Fire and tar fell down
from up above on unsuspecting towns
who made the grave mistake of feeling sad
when Death claimed members of the wrong side.

Among the senseless deaths of innocents,
there were some towns that pledged to help the war
like Appleloosa, which had pegasi
to scout the earth and spells to guard the air
so mechanized destruction couldn’t reach
the mines and quarries bleeding gold and white.
Celestia’s great sun dipped in the sky
and let her banners flash their red and gold
across the streets below just one more time
before the nighttime hours fell. The sick
and vile cowards of the dark may come,
but always had they held until the dawn.

Twilight Sparkle visited the site
with Shining Armor, leader of the guard:
she wore her tattered scholar’s robes of cloth,
he wore polished, gilded captain’s plate,
whose sun insignia declared his pride
and loyalty to Her, Celestia,
the goddess of the day. His breastplate shone
to spread Her influence to all who stood
against him, blinding armies with her light.
While Twilight couldn’t fight with him, she learned.
She studied ancient, moldy, fragile tomes she found
unearthed from ruined libraries or torn
from fleeing soldiers’ hooves. The enemy
had taken things both sacred and occult
and spent their lives profaning their designs.
She swore that she could learn to use the lore
the way the shadows in the darkness did,
and, escort being granted her, she read.

Their time in Appleloosa was to be quick:
a glance inside their library, a speech
to all their troops—a show of faith and care.
The crowd had gathered on the ground below
as insects wait for orders from their queen,
and Twilight stood at her brother’s right side
atop the wall. Her brother rallied them:
“Don’t question if your service is of use
to your home or to your families.
You’re the wasps that guard the thorny hedge
around the clearing ponies safely play
inside. Equestria’s protections rise
from pools of iron and towers of stone,
but stone and iron need you here to save
them from the spiders in the black of night.
So listen here! My new informant stole
A list of battles, tactics, all with notes
of where and where and why they might succeed,
and Appleloosa’s head is on the block.
They plan to enter through the mines, a cave
will let them in. Their potions made of fire
will melt the metal found within and choke
the passages. With no escape, they’ll charge
inside our walls to catch us from behind
as outwardly we watch for them, the knife
will find our lungs quite easy from behind.
And those of us who turn to give a fight
will strangle on the toxins and the fumes
of potions, spells, and underhanded ploys
that fog your mind enough for them to call
Death, their only friend, to cut your mane.
The plan is scheduled for this very night,
and I believe our strategy is clear.
We split our forces: guard the mines and walls,
with vastly more below than up above.
We’ll beat them fair and square. Their own designs
will fall upon their heads a thousand times.”

And soon the preparations had been made,
and soon the guards were stationed at their posts,
and everypony waiting held their breaths.
The slaughter started not inside the mines
with any kind of break-in or collapse,
but Luna’s forces gathered just outside,
and quickly entered through the city’s gates.
Penny Ante noticed things amiss
and squinted through the cloudy, moonless night,
but as she turned around the call for help,
a mass of fur and leather wings appeared.
She hit the stone; her breath and voice were gone;
she tried to push the pony off her back;
but her assailant grabbed her head in hoof,
and left a bloody streak upon the rock.
Black Stone did shout before his neck was snapped
and body thrown into the desert wastes,
but warning only doubled suffering
for Yuma Spurs, who, stationed underground
could only hear the panic spreading. Fear
destroyed the senses of her friends, and soon
the tunnels couldn’t be traversed at all.
Cassidy had pushed her from his way,
and caught her hoof inside a crevice fast.
She tried to wriggle out, but then the mob
trampled her legs and hooves to bruised lumps.
The watched the fire spread and burn alive
poor Toffee. Burning air had forced her back
to fall by Yuma, who could smell her flesh
burn and bubble in the noxious spell.
Young Braeburn fled into the alleyways
and called for Captain Shining Armor’s help,
but no one came. Instead he sulked away
and fled the city, but never that day.

But Twilight fared much better than the rest,
like Clever Clover in the Siege of Thrace
demanded Diomedes kept alive
so she could use his knowledge of the land
against the rebels she was sent to find.
Twilight found a sword against her throat,
but not a knife inside her back. She stopped
and slowly raised her hooves above her head
still scanning pages of the book she read.
The stallion behind her neither spoke
nor let her turn her head to see his face,
so all she saw of him was of his mane,
a single blue lock shifting in the breeze.
She closed her eyes and focused all her will
until the moment she’d catch him off guard;
her horn lit up, and in a flash she moved
a hundred paces down the town hall floor.
She looked at him and grit her teeth. She sighed
and shook her head. Her brother stood in front
of her, a black insignia he wore
proclaiming his allegiance to the night,
his darkened cloak absorbing all the light.
He saw the disappointment in her eyes
like a mother who, about to scold
a child, will make them first believe their shame.
But Shining Armor wouldn’t budge, “Enough
of your blind faith to glittering golden day.
I know you’ve never seen this war unfold,
but dear Celestia holds blame as well,
sending soldiers to their deaths to burn
and bomb their schools. Their universities.
For justice? No, those books you dearly love
come from the hands of doctors, scholars, kids
who dare to study at the wrong mare’s school!
Or maybe no one’s sure which side is which,
and I’m required by my oath to kill
anyone they say. At least this side,
this ‘Moon’s Republic’ cares to some extent
about the ponies.” As he drew a breath
to continue on, his sister cast
a binding spell and brought him to the floor.
His legs snapped in together, and he lost
his balance right away. He spit the dust out of his mouth.
“I won’t fight you, Twily!” But she just tore
his cloak and badge right off his chest. “And now,”
she said, “we’ll see just how much they will care
about a pony found without their marks.”
She crouched behind a desk and kept a watch
to keep her misled brother safe from harm.

As soldiers flooded the town hall like waves
of hornets in the woods, she loosed his legs
and let him stand, but back again he fell.
The leader of the little group had pushed
him to the ground; when Shining Armor tried
to speak his name, they wanted not a sound
at all. They didn’t let him squirm or talk,
no matter how he wanted to explain
to them his role and job. Their captains knew,
and if they were around, they’d give him drink
and help him up and sing his praises loud.
But now the butchers looming overhead
had him in their charge. The leader grinned
and raised his sword, and held it up aloft
so Shining Armor’d see his fate and weep.
He swung it down and hit the floor. His sword
split clean in two as sparks and echoes bounced
aimless ‘round the dim and empty room.

Shining Armor screamed for fear and pain
as the thing he expected never came.
He looked around and met his sister’s eyes;
he felt the twinge of magic in his ears.
He looked away and gazed into the sands
that peaceful and unbroken stretched away.

Author's Note:

Written for the Quills and Sofas Lyrical Contest on 03/16/2024.

The prompt for this story was to use a song's lyrics as inspiration, and I chose the demo of "No Longer You" from Epic: The Musical.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

These stories were written for Quills and Sofas speedwriting competitions,

Haven’t they made over a thousand of those things by now? What are you going to do when you pass one thousand chapters?

[Scrying Mind]

11878446
Throw a party! I love these guys with all my heart, and if I manage to have the time to do this a thousand more times, I'll consider myself lucky. Unfortunately, I can't really participate in all of them, and some of my favorites get revised and posted as one-shots.