The Adventures of Dobbelsteen Moerman

by TheDiceMan0407

A Story Best Told With Crayons

June 28th, 1010, 23:42

Six days after the beginning of the Great War.

12 miles outside Aiwle, Feathisia.

Rain had clogged everycreature’s wits and senses, and soaked their feathers as it had their gear. The night sky kept its rolling clouds hidden, shown only in the flashes of distant lightning that tore through them. From these clouds came the rain, its volume, and harshness swaying like ocean tides with the hours they had all been out in these forests.

The heat and humidity of the summer still lingered well into the night, as the soldiers had sweat through their feathers and their uniforms. Many had the desire to ditch their uniforms, helmets, and backpacks that weighed them down. None did.

One hundred and thirty-two soldiers of the Imperial Army kept their eyes on the distant borders of their encampment. Only the moonlight and flashing clouds gave brief illumination to their surroundings, as their eyes had to strain to stay alert. Some lay with their backs against the trees, propping themselves up. Some ponies had sprawled on the ground, their rifles in their hooves and their bodies laid flat against the forest floor, leaves covering their uniforms. A few Griffons had perched themselves in the trees, wings tucked in behind themselves as they hugged the limbs and scanned the area.

The soldiers hadn’t spoken since nightfall. They had placed their rucksacks, large backpacks packed with all sorts of gear and supplies, next to rock formations, trees, under leaves, and in small divots in the dirt to conceal them. The helmets that sat upon their manes and feathers were pasted with dirt as were their uniforms. Each soldier remained absolutely still.

Only the rain moved.

One hundred and twenty yards to the north through the forest was a ditch. Not significant in its depth, yet just enough to hold the one hundred and twelve soldiers, each with their own weapons laid on the grass peeking out of it and towards the enemy company.

The flag on the uniforms of these soldiers, who lay in the ditch and clutched their claws, hooves, and in some instances, paws around their weapons, could hardly be seen under the nightfall rain. Divided into three horizontal bars of blue, white, and yellow, with a Sword piercing through a dragon, the colors of Feathisia were stitched with pride in their uniforms, yet subdued by the dirt caked upon them.

Yet the major identifier of the soldiers in the ditch was the pasted clay on their fur and feathers that blended them so with the dirt they laid in. Arising from this dirt into a hunched-over stance rose a single pony, with a coat of bright green.

This pony brought their rifle close to their chest, raising a free hoof to shake in the air, catching the attention of one Griffon down the right side of the trench, and one dog down the left. The pony's eyes made contact with both, before extending her hoof out and then driving forward out in front of her.

Plonk!

One hundred and twelve pairs of eyes moved to glance at the pony, and the poor Griffon in front of her that she just hit on the helmet. He looked back to the pony only briefly with disappointment before all eyes returned back to their weapon sights.

Thanking the heavens the rain had covered the sound of the mistake, and wishing to the gods above that this would all be forgotten like the rest of her assigned leadership, the pony quickly repeated the gesture to the two nearest platoon leaders of her company. This time, no blue on blue hoof-assault.

With this movement, the company of soldiers that lay within the ditch had begun to tear itself into three sections. From a bird’s eye view, fifty-five soldiers in total had split and traveled down towards both ends of the trench, extending the line of soldiers. However, the new flanks of these lines had formed at angles, as the company formed in a wide ‘W’ shape.

The rain pattered the wooden stocks of these soldiers' rifles as they all aimed in line towards the encampment, of which almost none could spot through the darkness of the night. Only brief illuminations from the lightning cast sight upon moved trees and what may, or may not have been faint silhouettes.

The soldiers of the encampment peered their eyes in every direction, scanning for their hunters.

The soldiers of the ditch had their rifles raised and ready into the darkness towards their enemy.

The pony had raised their own from inside the trench, her eyes glued to the sight. Adrenaline had taken control of her senses, her body shaking from the cold rain. She struggled to maintain the focus of her rifle, even with it leaning down upon the grass. The company waited for her signal to begin fire, yet through her mind ran endless possibilities for failure.

Out of the darkness behind the trench, a new Griffon approached.

His steps were taken without a sound, his towering figure masked by the shade of trees he stuck close to. Entering the trench, he caught the eyes of some of the soldiers, who then quickly averted their gaze forward. He lay down beside the shivering pony.

His claw raised ever slightly, and the pony inhaled with a nod of understanding. When the claw lowered, she exhaled and returned her eye back to the sight. The rain was still cold but had failed to shake her further. The Griffon stepped back from the line, glancing down the left side of the trench, and slowly dragging his gaze to the other. A nod of approval.

The wooden stock of the bolt action rifle rested with the same stillness as those it targeted. The pony’s eyes tore through the darkness. She was certain, she could see two of those encampment soldiers now. She had her hoof slowly pulling on the lever of the rifle, farther and farther. Iron sights focused upon them. Her heart had slowed. Her gaze narrowed.

CRACK!

The encampment soldiers immediately snapped their gazes towards varying directions of the north, alerted and shaken by the sudden appearance of gunfire no matter how many hours they had anticipated it. Yet, the sound of the rain had muddied the sound. One Griffon leaned up against the branches of the tree, and called out into the night. “TWELVE 'O'CLOCK!”

The night erupted into a thunder of rifles that lined the ditch, each shooting out flames from their barrels and filling the air with gunpowder and smoke. The sudden symphony of gunfire had come in waves of segmented fire from its three sections, each volley coming almost immediately after the last.

The soldiers under fire immediately ducked into the dirt, abandoning their three-hundred and sixty-degree watch and focusing on getting to a safe location. A few soldiers caught out in the open scrambled for their rifles, before briskly taking cover. The encampment's soldiers rushed to safety, Griffons dove from treetops, snatching their pony comrades out of harm's way, while diamond dogs yanked their fellow soldiers to cover.

A Griffon, with feathers brown as the fallen summer leaves within the encampment, had leaned out of his position behind an old oak tree and raised his rifle to fire back towards the ditch.

“ON LINE!”

Rushing hooves, stomping paws, and fast claws tore through the fallen leaves of the forest floor, as the rain continued to patter their helmets as fast as their hearts did against their chests, the soldiers of the encampment began to form a spaced line that waxed and waned, jutting forward and back as the soldiers apart of it utilized whatever cover they could.

Now the guns sounded twice as loud throughout the whole forest, as the flames briefly illuminated the soldiers of each line for the other, only interrupted by the cycling of bolts and the loading of stripper clips.

Yet, the encampment had been outmatched. With the prepared volley fire allowing their enemy to fire at a constant rate in comparison to their hasty firing at will, the struggle for firepower was lost.

Some soldiers had laid still in the leaves, failing to get into cover in time.

Screams, cries of pain, and agony could be heard from the less fortunate ones.

The same brown-feathered Griffon looked to both sides of his company, who for the most part were sticking to their own natural cover. He called out, having to scream over the endless sound of gunfire and the constant rain.

“FIRST PLATOON, BOUND!”

Upon this order, the soldiers to the right of this Griffon had immediately picked up their rifles and in some instances, each other, and sprinted backward away from the enemy, while the other half had leaned out of their cover and began firing with increased speed, seemingly not bothering to aim.

However, the ponies at the trench had not sat idly. As the first section of the encamped soldiers had run for safety, the flanks of the trench spread like water flowing along two paths, continuing their angled positions forward, surrounding the enemy.

The center trench continued to fire, covering the advance of their flanks, as did the camp line to cover the retreat of one of theirs.

The soldiers had not run for long, however, and soon the creatures had all slid to a halt and fallen onto their bellies, raising their rifles back into the direction of the enemy. All in unison, a chorus of over forty soldiers sounded off. “SET!”

The Griffon called once more.

“SECOND AND THIRD PLATOON, BOUND!”

The process had now flipped, as the center and far left sides of the encampment retreated, grasping their rifles and high-tailing it backward, now covered by the first platoon of soldiers.

In an all-out sprint away from the pursuing gunfire getting closer and closer, the creatures of the encampment all slid into a distant, more well-constructed line about fifty meters further from the enemy.

The line looked forward, over the motionless soldiers of their company that now lay upon the forest floor, whose uniforms proudly displayed the yellow and blue flag upon their shoulders.

The brown feathers on the Griffon, now even more so stained from the dirt of the forest, had stood stiff with adrenaline. The soldiers of both companies, attacking and defending, yelled out into the night.

“I’m out of Ammo!” yelled one not far from him, a pony desperately patting himself down for any spare cartridges to load into his bolt action rifle.

“They’re moving to flank us, watch the sides!” yelled a diamond dog. She sat at the far left end of the line, directing her fellow soldiers to widen their scopes of fire to cover the flanks.

Yet, one voice sounded louder than them all.

“INDEX!”

The gunfire had halted, the voice coming from the trench further up. Yet although it came from their enemy’s lines, so too did the soldiers of the encampment halt their gunfire. They remained frozen for the moment, the majority of them catching their breath and looking around at their fellow soldiers.

The moonlight cast its illumination through openings of the tree branches and leaves above, with the rain maintaining a low but persistent hum. Though the darkness of the forest had nearly shrouded all in its mystery, the blonde feathers of this soldier could still be made out if one's eyes were keen enough. This, however, was not to overlook the silhouette of the figure himself, which certainly made a presence even without the assistance of moonlight.

Tall was one word to describe this Griffon. In relation to the other Griffons and ponies, that is, the diamond dogs within the formation still held overall superiority.

Imposing was better. The same towering figure that knelt beside the commanding pony of the trench now scanned the battlefield itself. His eyes, though they scanned, were not seen behind his sunglasses. Though one were to imagine being blind wearing sunglasses at night, this blonde-feathered Griffon examined everything with one quick glance. Gunpowder flowed through the air around him, surrounding him in the glow of the moonlight.

He looked down at the forest floor.

“...If it ain't raining, you ain't training. Get your flanks out of that mud.”

The ‘dead’ soldiers of the encampment forces on the ground began to move once more, this time with small amounts of laughter, and so too did the rest of the soldiers on either side of the exercise. The towering soldier offered his claw to a nearby Griffon on the ground, pulling them up with ease.

Soon, all two hundred and forty-four soldiers of the exercise had formed around this Griffon, chattering with the soldiers on their own side and the opposite with laughter.

The soldier in the center had a smile of his own, looking around at his soldiers. “Squad leaders, make sure you got everybody. Blanks can be dangerous too, you know.” His claws took hold of his sunglasses, adjusting them to rest on his square beak. His blue eyes briefly shone with the moonlight before being shrouded by the shades once more. “Got everyone?”

The brown feathered Griffon looked to the platoon leaders of his company, who in turn were looking to their squad leaders. A visual game of accountability was played before the Griffon turned back. “Bravo Company all accounted for, Major sir.”

The officer now looked at the pony from the trench.

She nodded enthusiastically. “All one hundred and twelve, sir!” Glancing rapidly to both her left and right, she took another deep breath. “Positive.”

Bolts of each and every creature's rifle had been locked to the rear, and ammunition stored in their uniform pockets. Helmets were also taken off.

“Major Moerman, sir?” Called a voice from the crowd of soldiers. “How do you think we did?”

Moerman, the Griffon who stood in the center of this circle, narrowed his eyes in thought. He flexed/stretched his wings in the wind, quickly recounting the events of the exercise. After a moment, the Major adjusted his uniform which bore the same blue, yellow, and green flag of Feathisia on his shoulder. The uniform itself contrasted with the flag, itself a deep green color with small brass buttons.

“Lieutenant Anika.” The Major said, turning to the green pony, who immediately shrunk away under the eye of over three hundred of her peers. The blonde Griffon, however, smiled. “What do you think you did right?”

She blinked, “Um…Did right?” She glanced between the soldiers to her left and right. She swallowed, opening her mouth. “I think-”

“You just ordered the deaths of over a hundred of Feathisia’s enemies as you should.” The Major said with a smile, prompting laughter from the soldiers around. “Talk to me about it, Warrior!”

Anika started to smile, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath, looking her superior in the eyes. “Everypon- Everycreature, sorry, did very well on the approach all the way to the trench.” She smiled. “We weren’t spotted at all like last time!”

A few mumbles of agreement with nodding heads from Alpha company were heard.

Major Moerman maintained his smile, looking to the half of the circle that consisted of Anika and the soldiers under her command. “Something that you organized rather well, Lieutenant?” He said, before turning to the entire circle. “I didn’t even think to tell you all this before, but it's a great idea. Having your platoons fire in cycles?”

Anika grasped her rifle tighter and bowed away from the approving eyes of everycreature else. “Well…I read it in a book.” She said, looking around. “Seemed like a pretty good idea…I think.”

Moerman sighed. “Wish I knew how to read.”

The soldiers had now begun to laugh along with their commanding officer, most of them slinging their rifles and beginning to take seats on the forest floor. Anika had also taken a seat, now looking her soldiers in the eyes a lot more. Moerman smiled.

He soon turned. “...Bravo company, you're laughing a bit too hard at that.”

Their smiles were still present on their faces when the Major’s eyes met with the Griffon with brown feathers. His rifle was still held in his claws when he spoke, his eyes sort of falling down to the leaves under him. “Lieutenant-”

“Lotte.” The Major finished, “Don't think I don't know, son.” He smiled. “Now, what do you think you did right?”

Lotte looked up, seemingly a bit surprised. He looked back and forth between his soldiers. “Well, I uh…” He blinked his brown eyes in a frenzy. “Bounding back away from the camp in an organized fashion. It kept every retreating element covered.”

An eyebrow was raised behind the Major’s sunglasses. “Sensing a ‘but’ in there…”

“I left the rucksacks behind,” Lotte said. “That and the fact I wasn’t able to spot-”

Moerman raised his claw. “We, son.”

Lotte nodded, “We uh, didn’t spot the enemy coming in before it was too late. Taken by surprise like that, we didn’t have enough time to properly grab our equipment and get out of there safely, so I tried to reform the line at a safer position but not give up the bags.”

In the center of the circle, the blonde feathered Griffon looked around at each of his soldiers, a Diamond dog with a light gray coat, before leaning over and extending his claw. “Corporal Maynard? Mind if I borrow your weapon?” He said, taking the rifle into his claws. He raised it up in the air.

“How much is this rifle worth?”

The soldiers glanced at each other, muttering varying numbers amongst themselves.

The Major gave a nod, bringing the rifle back down and looking over it. “Could measure it in the bits it took to make. Or the bits you could sell it for.” He looked up. “Maybe the time to build it, even. Takes eighteen hours to fully create a rifle in a factory.”

Moerman looked to the Lieutenant. “It takes eighteen years to create a soldier. Still, even with that clear discrepancy of value in time, there is even more so no such competition in the discrepancy of value in the life of a creature over material value.”

“One thing I ever teach you, soldiers, it's this.” The Major said, adjusting his officer’s cap and holding the rifle in his right claw. “Nothing comes before the lives of your soldiers. Objectives, materials, supplies? All can be regained and replaced. There are no second chances when it comes to creatures. They are the one thing you should never risk.”

The Major turned, handing the rifle back to Corporal Maynard. The Diamond Dog happily reunited with their rifle.

“Lieutenants, you did well filling the shoes of your Captains. Entrust that they will receive good word of your improvements over the course of these last couple of days.” Moerman turned with a smile to the rest of his soldiers. “That goes for the rest of you as well. Each and every one of you performed within the vision of your superiors while also keeping yourselves, and your battle buddies, safe and alive.” He winked at his soldiers. “Deserves a reward, don't you think?”

The soldiers, whose smiles were already long present, either sat straight back up or stood straighter under the eyes of the Major, hope swelling each and every creature’s heart. It had been days out in the field performing exercises at all sorts of ungodly hours. Be it in the summer heat or the middle of the night.

Rain still pattered on the uniform of Dobbelsteen Moerman, Major in the Imperial Armed Forces, as he adjusted his Officers cap. A button-down floral shirt could barely be seen/glimpsed from under the collar of his uniform. “I think it does.” He smirked. “Oh-Four Hundred Wake up, and a Ruck march all the way to Aiwle!”

Immediately, groans of betrayal and crushed dreams echoed throughout both companies. The soldiers began to lower their heads in disappointment. Such is the life of the Infantry.

Moerman continued. “...And a visit to the Harbor Diner. With Free drinks.”

HOORAY!!!

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June 28th 1010, 20:21

Six days after the beginning of the Great War.

Ponyville, Equestria.

Though this was hardly new, Fluttershy was worried.

Although the sun had set over Ponyville in just the exact same way it had for the hundreds upon hundreds of times it had before, nopony had retired into peaceful slumber as usual. Even as the great white moon rose into the sky, not even the beautiful creatures the light-yellow pony loved so much could soothe themselves to sleep. From the light that still peered from the windows of the crystal castle in the center of town, neither could Twilight Sparkle.

Her hooves stepped onto the red carpeted floors, heading up the stairs of the castle and through its whimsical, winding hallways. “It’s a wonder Twilight doesn’t get lost in this place.” She said to herself, before coming to an intersection of hallways.

She squeaked. “...Or maybe I’m lost.”

Her ears twitched at a sound she couldn’t make out coming down one such corridor, whose double doors at the end peered with shining light under its frame. Fluttershy immediately recognized the doors of the castle library, thankful and relieved.

Pushing through these doors, Fluttershy squinted at the blaring lights still going well into the night. Yet, her eyes then widened at the sheer state of the once neat and orderly library, and her friend Twilight.

For starters, more books were on the floor than on the shelves, some with their pages turned and their rear covers facing upwards, some laid half opened and abandoned, and some had remained in unorganized piles waiting to be picked up to be read. Hardly the work of her best friend, surely.

Yet, there Twilight Sparkle was. Breezing past all of these inadequacies of an organized library, She had dropped one book on the floor carelessly and simply picked up another as if following along on railroad tracks, each book offering its information and knowledge to be used upon the next. The expressions upon the Princess of friendship however were not of discovery and connection. Her eyes were sorrowful, with her wings tucked to her sides and her mane unkempt. The doors had creaked upon opening, and she looked.

“Fluttershy!” She said, and the haste of her words nearly caused the doors to close once more. Twilight stepped forward, placing down her book on the large center table, where it joined many of its relatives. “Fluttershy, are you sure you don't have any more books at your cabin?”

She shook her head. “Well, none that I think you’d be all that interested in…right now.”

“No books on conflict?”
“Daring Do was a little frightening for me.”
“None on history?”
“There’s, um, one about old herbal medicine techniques.”
“Battle tactics?”

Fluttershy blinked.

Twilight sighed, turning to rest her head on the table in pure exhaustion, her eyes bouncing between the towers of paper she had assembled. “Nothing, Fluttershy.” Her voice was dry, almost with a rasp. “There isn’t a single book in this whole library, nor the libraries of all of Ponyville, that give any sort of help on ending this war.”

Fluttershy’s eyes sank down to the carpet underneath her hooves. “...Why don't we just try talking to them?”

“Chrysalis isn’t interested in talking, Fluttershy.” Twilight leaned up from her chin-resting position on the table and gestured to scattered newspapers on its corner. “Go read for yourself if you have to. Ever since her coup attempt on Canterlot five years ago, this war is all she’s been planning. She’ll never give up on revenge.”

Walking over and looking down at the newspapers, Fluttershy shrunk from the words as if they were terrifying creatures of the Everfree forest. There, depicted in one article after the other, and printed in black and white images on their covers, were hulking machines and weird-looking vehicles on the roads of towns not that dissimilar from Ponyville, and flying machines in smoky skies.

‘CHRYSALIS’ TROOPS POUR ACROSS THE BORDER’ were the bold letters that spanned the top of one such newspaper, as Fluttershy read more and more of Changelings flying through the streets of Anchorage and Vanhoover, as well as the forests themselves. Tears began to welt in her eyes before one of her hooves wiped them away with a sniff. “...I sure hope those poor ponies are okay…and the creatures.”

“We have to focus on stopping Chrysalis.” Twilight had moved another book, ‘An Overview of Ancient Equestrian History’ into her hooves. “That’s the only hope we have to save more ponies from harm's way.”

“Can we confront her?” Fluttershy said, looking up. “With the elements?”

Twilight shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Fluttershy. When we faced her before, it was only her and a small Army in one city. That and the enemies of the past were usually singular. But this…” She looked back down to her book. “Hundreds of Hives are involved, with millions of Changelings invading Equestria. A war can't be won by just six ponies.”

Fluttershy lowered her head down, picking up another newspaper. “...Oh.”

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over both ponies as it had over the entirety of Ponyville. Through the windows of the castle, Twilight saw that the clouds were still, the wind did not move the leaves of the trees that adorned the surrounding hills. Silence was the new normal for Equestria, this far from the frontline.

Yet the distant war at the far northern borders of Equestria was still as Equestria as Ponyville was, resting in the heart of the vast country. Twilight glanced over to a map of Equestria and its neighbors, visualizing the war between the Hives of the Changelings in the north as they swarmed across and down into Equestria. As her eyes traced down imagining these swarms, one small dot in the center of Equestria caught her eye, and if she squinted, the small label of Ponyville could be seen. It was the only identifier from all the other hundreds of identical dots stretching back up to the border.

“What’s a Feathisian?”

Shaken out of her imagination by Fluttershy’s question, Twilight turned back to her book, scanning each page for similar conflicts of this magnitude in Equestria’s history. None had been found yet. “Feathisia is in Griffonia, Fluttershy.” She absentmindedly placed her hoof on the map, resting on the continent opposite Equestria. “It's a state within the Griffonian Empire, north of Griffonstone. It has a lot of-”

Fluttershy squinted at the newspapers. “Swamps?”

Twilight Sparkle now looked up from her book and over to her friend, who had sorted the haphazard pile into a line, the newspapers now flipped a couple of pages in. Twilight trotted over around the table, “Yeah, is there something in the news about them?”

“A lot of times, actually,” Fluttershy said, raising her hoof to point at one newspaper article, and then another. The article titles spoke now of victorious operations, heroic engagements with bandits, and other various acts of bravery. It was around this time Twilight noticed half of these newspapers were from the Empire itself. “It’s not about the war Equestria’s in, but these Griffons seem to get into trouble. A lot.”

COMMANDOS DRIVE BANDITS FROM GRIFFONSTONE! Were the bold letters of one such article on the table, Twilight now looking at the printed words with curiosity. Fluttershy then picked up another newspaper, reading aloud the title of the next article.

“Burying the hatchet…” She looked up briefly. “That’s the um…title. “The hastily arranged militias of the Riverpony alliance caught unexpected allies in the form of the rapid deployment of the Feathisian Commandos against Hellquill forces bent on the oppression of ponies. Although Imperial forces and the Riverpony coalition have had troubled history, this joint operation has already raised strong hopes of peace between Griffons and ponies in the region.”

Twilight Sparkle now took hold of another newspaper, reading it aloud right for Fluttershy. “The one-year anniversary of the fall of the National Griffonian Republic. The long thirty-year history of the republic, beginning with the Imperial revolution of 978 and climaxing in the invasion of the peaceful northern nations of Vedina, Skynavia, and the northern pony settlements decisively ended with the involvement of the Griffonian Empire on the north’s behalf. The war was swiftly ended in the battle for Cloudbury, the republic’s capital, most famously fought by Imperial tank forces in tandem with…The Feathisian Commandos.”

Fluttershy set down her newspaper on the table, resting on top of ‘An abridged history of Olenian and Equestrian relations’. “Wow…Feathisia seems to be a really wild place. Chrysalis was lucky not to have invaded them.” Fluttershy chuckled.

Fluttershy looked at Twilight. “Also because she’d have to…cross a whole ocean…Twilight?”

Twilight’s eyes had begun to widen at the newspapers, with her wings slightly twitching. She scanned each article with extreme speed, before turning to suddenly pull Fluttershy in a great big hug. “You’re a genius, Fluttershy!”

“Eep!” Fluttershy yelled before Twilight hugged her, squeaking out in response. “I…am?”

Twilight Sparkle turned back, beginning to roll up the newspapers on the table and stuff them into her bag. “I should have known that I was never going to find any sort of ideas, let alone a solution just within this library.” She said, gesturing to the books thrown about on the floor. “I don't know anything about wars and combat. But what I do know is friendship.”

Fluttershy blinked. “Yeah, but um…how does that relate to the commando Griffons?”

“Those Griffons are our new lifeline, Fluttershy!” Twilight said with newfound enthusiasm quite the contrary to her previous raspy and downtrodden tone. “If I can get those Commandos over to help us fight the Changelings, who knows what they could teach all of Equestria about fighting and winning this war!”

Fluttershy began to smile, leaning forward as Twilight’s words of hope began to infect her. “Do you really think they’ll come to help us?”

The Princess looked down, “I’m not sure, Equestria hasn’t interacted with the Griffonian continent outside of a few instances.” She sighed, before looking back to the window. “But Equestria has never faced anything like this before. Celestia and Luna instructed me to find any information I could on how to stop the Changelings. This library had nothing…but maybe those Commandos will.”

Twilight nodded, “I’m going to meet with Celestia first thing tomorrow morning about this. It can’t hurt to at least try.”

Fluttershy lowered her head. “I hope so, Twilight. All of this feels like a bad dream a pony can't wake up from.” She turned from the table and began trotting across the library towards the door, stopping halfway to glance back at her friend. “Could you please, um…let me know if it works? If they agree to come and help us?”

“The world changed a lot overnight, Fluttershy.” Twilight tilted her head towards the newspapers in her bag, and then back to Fluttershy. “But the magic of friendship hasn’t. I’ll do everything I can to get us all the help we need.”

“Thank you, Twilight.” The light-yellow pony smiled as she closed the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Fluttershy.” Twilight Sparkle called after and watched the door close. As it did, she remained standing where she was, her eyes sinking to the floor. Trotting around the scattered books, she hopped into one of the library’s sofas, lying down upon it.

Twilight cast her eyes up to the night sky through the windows of her castle, and wondered what she would dream of. That is if she dreamed of anything. Although the slightest glimmer of hope had been found after a week of consistently bad news, she still loathed the necessity of sleep. It took her away from her studies on how to end this conflict. After all, what was the point of sleep anymore, to dream?

Why would she ever dream if the nightmares were now real?