The Alarm
“Tell another story papaw.” The little filly and colt asked in unison. Their question was directed at an older stallion who sat before them on a rocking chair. Their grandfather had always been a source of intriguing fables and tales, and the two would always plead for them late into the night.
“It’s nearly nine o’clock. That’s an hour after your bedtimes. Your parents wouldn’t be very happy if I kept you up with the tale of…” He raised his eyebrows. “The Gryphon raid.”
“Please papaw, just a short one.” The young colt begged as he hugged the sinewy leg of his grandfather.
The stallion chuckled. “Alright you two, but only if you can climb onto my chair.” The two ponies struggled time after time to pull themselves onto his legs, but each time only managed to fall back to the floor in heaps of giggles. “I’m waiting.” The stallion said, his taunts met with cheerful innocent laughter and more scrambling to achieve the one objective set before the two ponies. After the two had worn themselves out, the stallion lifted them, one in each foreleg, to the chair's arms.
"Okay you two, let me tell you about the Gryphon air raids." He said as he readied himself into character.
The young colt took advantage of the brief moment of silence. "What's an air raid?"
"You will see young one." The stallion said. "Back in my days, when I was just a colt, not much older than you, Equestria was in a war against the Gryphons. Every day those who weren't fighting were helping at home. Earth ponies grew their own food instead of going to the store. Mares would take up jobs in the factories making weapons for their stallions in battle. Why, even the colts would bring news of the war to those who stayed home. Town criers is what they were called, and you couldn't go anywhere without them-"
"Why were they crying?" The young colt interrupted.
"It was their job." The stallion responded. "They would run through the streets and shout the news to anyone that could hear them. One day, however, one of those criers flew through the street. His pace was much faster than usual, and his screams were a little more scared than usual, but the strangest thing of all was what he was shouting"
---
"Everypony get inside and turn off your lights!" The spry young pegasus shouted as he rocketed past Sage’s bedroom window.
“Mommy look!” Sage shouted, blissfully unaware of the severity of the stallion’s message. “One day I want to be a pegasus and fly just like him.”
His mother laughed a nervous, sorrow filled, laugh. “I’m sorry sage, dear, but you are an earth pony. Come now, we need to go to bed.”
“But I’m not even tired!” Sage protested as he sat upright on the bed. “Tell me a story.”
“Alright.” His mother said nervously as she leaned over to the lantern and whispered the flame to rest. “But only if you are quiet.” A faint flash of light lightly blinked on the edge of the city’s skyline. She looked to sage who was just tucking himself into the covers. “Now you have to promise me not to make a noise, and don’t turn any light on.”
“Okay.” Just as the words left his mouth a dull thud gently rumbled through the air. “What was that?” Sage asked as he climbed toward the window. His mother gently pulled him back from the glass and tucked him into his covers.
“It was only a storm sweetheart.” She said, a twinge of nervousness in her voice. “It was only a storm.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, her breath shuddering as her adrenaline began to rise. This was the first air raid on the small town of Baltimare. Please let the pegasi save us. She asked to no pony in particular.
“Mommy?” Sage asked as he noticed his mother’s silence. “Can you start the story?”
His mother weakly smiled. “Once upon a time there were three little fillies.” She started, her gaze still fixed on the window. Another flash of yellowish-red light lit up the city once more, this time brighter and longer than the last. “They lived in the land of-” She paused as the blast rumbled through the city and gently rattled the loose glass in Sage’s window. “In the land of make believe.”
“That’s where Michael the Manticore lives too!” Sage half shouted, half whispered.
“Yes.” His mother said with a smile as she scooted next to him and ran her hoof through his mane. “That’s right. I’ll bet they are very good friends.”
“Yeah.” Sage said as his eyes drooped heavily. Another flash of light, this one much closer, dimly lit sage’s room with a fiery orange glow. Sage’s eyes shot open in curiosity.
“One day the three fillies were walking in the-” Her voice was cut off by a violent blast that tore through the town. She glanced out of the window again, this time the view took her breath away. Small fires had started all across the city as points of light began flashing against the darkness, leaving burning homes and ruined lives in their wake. “They were walking in the forest when a loud storm appeared above them.” His mother said, unaware of the tears that were forming in her eyes.
“Just like outside.” Sage whispered, his volume evident of how tired he really was.
“Yes.” His mother said, the slight quiver in her voice echoing the fear in heart. “Just like outside.” Her words were as distant as the explosions on the horizon that blinked to the heartbeat of the war. She moved to sage’s side, blocking his view of the window.
“Move out of the way mommy.” He complained as he tried to peer around her silhouette. “I want to see the fireworks.”
His mother took a deep shaky breath as she tightly hugged her filly. “They all hugged each other as the thunder grew louder and louder.” She said as the explosions grew more powerful outside. She used her voice as best as she could to mask the powerful blasts that rumbled through the town. By now the blasts had completely encompassed their small apartment. “They held on... for dear life as the presence of death slowly began to surround them.” She choked out through her sobs.
“Mommy, I’m scared.”
She held back her tears just long enough to utter, “So am I Sage.”
---
“When I was young I didn’t know why she acted the way she did.” Sage said as he mussed the young colt’s hair with his hoof. The two young ponies yawned and stretched their stiff forelegs in exhaustion.
“I’m tired.” The young filly yawned as she rested her head on Sage’s shoulder.
“It was your bedtime an hour and thirty minutes ago, let’s get you tucked in.” He said as he rose to his hooves and put the two young ones on his back. As he gently walked to the stairs a peculiar sound came to life in the living room. The radio, which had been playing a soft melody had suddenly changed to a static masked voice. Through the noisy haze Sage could barely hear a stallion’s voice.
The words were unmistakable, and they sent a shiver down his spine. “All residents of Baltimare and the surrounding area are to immediately seek shelter and to extinguish all light sources in their homes.” As the message ended the cyclic sound of the city’s air raid siren could be heard above the peaceful melody of the radio’s restored scheduled program.
“Who was that papaw?” The colt asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.
Sage took a deep breath and grabbed the candle from the desk next to his chair. “That was a friend of mine telling me its time to go to the basement.” He said as he walked to the door that led to the cellar of the house. He paused as he looked back at the two wide eyed ponies. “Say, would you like to hear the story of Michael the Manticore?”