The Flower Mare: Unbroken

by Flammenwerfer

First published

While the scars of the War will forever remain, Schneeblume has been helped along by the three Crusaders over the years. Now, she must lay to rest some more demons that have haunted her. To do so, she must return home to where it started: Alemaneia.

Schneeblume Herbstlicht—Ponyville's newer Flower Mare—was a withdrawn, grizzled earth pony veteran of the The Great War. It took the determination and attentiveness of the three Crusaders over several years to help Schnee slowly find peace in her tumultuous mind, and life. But it turns out, in a manner of speaking, there is one more battle that must be concluded.

And to lay to rest some more of her demons that have haunted her healing mind, Schnee realizes she must once-more return to where her journey through Tartarus began: back home.


Two-chapter, third and final installment of 'The Flower Mare' series.
Unlike my previous stories that had sequels, this is one that I highly recommend reading the previous two prequels for better world filling.

Cover art by the wonderfully talented pridark, sourced to her DA.

Void - Part 1 of 2

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Year 4 of the Great War, August 30th,

Silver Mist and I were to be married once the war ended—and the end is so close. I helplessly watched as he perished in a gas attack today, unable to save him. This war has taken everything from me. The light has vanished from my heart.

-Gefr. Schneeblume H.


“Honestly, I’m so jealous of you, Private.”

Schneeblume Herbstlicht’s commanding officer—Verbrannte Erde—spoke with such a foreign, almost giddy emotion that she had to make sure she wasn’t hearing things. He was a fine officer who commanded all her respect, but she never took him to get excited about much, these days.

“I don’t see a reason why you should, sir,” she replied plainly.

Then again, the unbelievable tone in everypony’s voice, including hers, was well warranted—these were extraordinary circumstances, after all. So much so that Schneeblume had to become accustomed to wearing a freshly washed and pressed, more formal uniform than anything she would have been afforded back on the front.

The small pause in conversation allowed the porcelain-white mare to catch a glimpse of herself in one of the palace’s enormous mirrors that flanked their trek.

The opulence was truly a spectacle in and of itself. An Alemaneian herself, she knew that her countryponies—particularly the aristocratic ones—prided themselves on their artistic expressions of wealth.

But all the gold-studded, silk-borne decor bordered debauchery for the simpler mare.

Erde’s voice scattered her musings, and the dark-coated, silver-eyed officer shot her dismissal down at once:

“None of that talk, Schneeblume. You’ve done extraordinarily well for yourself, your unit, your family name, and your country. This is an enormous privilege that few in their wildest dreams will receive. You’ve earned every bit of it,”

Schnee’s dirty, damaged, camouflaged uniform was replaced with a solid, deep blue that reeked of a formality she grew to despise from the military leadership. Foregone was her steel assault helmet—the hallmark of the feared Alemaneian Stormtroops—in place of a matching, black beret with the Alemaneian cross adorned on its right.

Her longer mane was washed, conditioned, prepped to shine, and done up in a beautiful bun. Had the circumstances been different, Schnee would much rather have taken a night on the town in a beautiful dress with some choice company… perhaps wrangle herself a nice stallion.

But no.

Instead, she had to do something so insane, so valorous, so careless of her own life on the battlefield, that it drew the attention of the entire army for the briefest of moments…

…and in that same moment of exposure, somepony very special happened to be watching.

Regarding her commander’s words, however, she disagreed with a simple shake of her head.

“No. It was my duty. No more, no less—anypony else would have done the same. By the same token, I’m not proud of many things I’ve done in the last two years…”

Schneeblume added mirthfully under her breath:

“And not like I really have a family to go back to, anyway…”

They were finally stopped by one last, enormous door, along with two royal guards who were ready to intercept them. Their onyx-black armor, head-to-hoof obscured even their eyes with a visor that was the color of the void itself. The color of their coats underneath their plating were also purely left to the imagination. They reminded Schnee squarely of the knights of the old Alemaneian Confederation.

The right-most warrior stuck their hoof out.

“Halt. What is your business here, soldiers?”

Captain Erde gestured to Schneeblume:

“My subordinate, Private Herbstlicht, has an audience.”

To Schneeblume, the formality seemed out of place—she was practically escorted by various parties to where she was now once she arrived at the Royal Palace… and only just now they were asking any form of identification?

Her personal feelings aside, the shock trooper was a tad concerned about palace security. She half-expected to suddenly fend off assailants that crashed through the imposing windows.

Thankfully, the split moment of silence did not last long, as both faceless guards turned to Schneeblume, then each other, then returned to their posts on either side of the arching door. They became as steely and silent as they were before.

She was granted entrance.

Captain Erde, however, was not.

This was strictly for Schnee, and her act of ‘valor’ that earned her a shining moment of fame above everypony else.

Thankfully, her commanding officer had prepared her fully for the situation, and he turned to her one final time whilst looking at her from every imaginable angle for any imperfections:

“Okay, Schnee… you can do this. Just try to have fun. Remember, this is about you, but don’t forget about your propriety where appropriate. She’s… not like her predecessors so much, so I think you’d get along well with her.

“Just don’t let anxiousness take ahold of you, soldier. You’re adored, you look beautiful, and everything will be just fine,” he reassured.

All the while, he dusted off a piece of fuzz that had found its place on Schnee’s left shoulder, lest it tarnish her beautiful uniform. Perhaps he wasn’t trying so much to convince her, as he was himself?

And the reassurance was an odd one at that.

“I mean… after Gale’s Peak and the Fair Dunes…” Schnee recollected with a sense of dark sarcasm. “…there’s really little I’m afraid of at this point. There’s not much I’m proud of at all, you do know this, right?”

Erde had little choice but to accept her answer, and he nodded in appreciation of her subtlety.

“Fair point, soldier… but we can debate semantics later. She’s waiting for you.”

And with that, he gestured with his hoof towards the door. On cue, the right-most palace guard turned from their post and took the liberty of cracking open the regal door inward with nary a word.

Schneeblume witnessed the small spectacle and, after one last turn towards her captain—who was beaming with pride at the fact that somepony so deserving was in his unit—gave her one last, curt nod of approval and assurances.

She would be just fine.

Everypony knew that. There was absolutely nothing to worry about in the end.

Nope. Not a thing at all.

Schneeblume gulped once, almost out of cliché necessity, and donned a much more righted posture, along with a stoic aura that Alemaneian stormtroopers were known for. One hard blink later, along with running her hoof over her ear, she stepped forward and into the awaiting door.

And after one last deep breath and sigh for good measure, she stepped fully inside.

As if sealing her proverbial fate, the arching doors were closed behind her with a mighty slam that echoed through the hollow, enormous resonance chamber of an auxiliary throne room.

Schneeblume had expected there to be an entourage of reporters and royal attendants to swamp her and take photographs… literally her worst nightmare. She was never one for lavish gatherings or even pictures with strangers—even less so since the war had been raging on. Her personality had withdrawn completely.

Reasonably expected.

But no… her gathering hall in all its glory was completely empty. Nopony sat at the throne, and not even royal guards existed to guard the pillars that connected to the supporting arches of this room. And in drawing her eyesight over the beautiful works of art themselves, she found that said arches led to little but plain ceilings above.

In fact, the rest of the room was quite… barren of the grandiose depictions of wealth that had come to be known in Alemaneian royal society, or even in any royal house of any of the nations of Equidae.

This might have been just an ordinary meeting room if Schnee was led blindfolded to her current location.

And even more curiously, as Schnee’s eyes flicked to either side of her and advanced towards the center of the room, she couldn’t help but feel and odd sense of tranquility that she hadn’t felt since before the war… one she longed for with ever increasing regularity.

So perhaps, being pulled from the trenches was not all that bad.

Especially if she got some goddamn peace and quiet for once. The bath was pleasant, too. That still didn’t help the fact that she could practically see her breath from how cold she felt… how shaky her breath was every time she exhaled.

Perhaps she was a little more nervous that she had hoped to let on to even herself...

“Guten Morgen,” greeted a sudden, silky smooth, flowery voice that flowed over and through Schneeblume’s ears like the purest water in all Alemaneia.

Her eyes widened as she heard the voice come from behind and to her right—literally the door she came through. By reflex, she inhaled deeply.

Swiveling on her hooves partially from being startled, and naturally to investigate, she came face-to-face, from halfway across the room, with the very pony that very few in their entire life would get the privilege to meet up close.

And perhaps the aura of being stunned broke any of Schneeblume’s formality, but through wide, innocent-looking eyes, her now-dry mouth uttered a simple word:

“…Kaiserin…”

The same pony advanced from the gentle shadow cast by the nearest window on the room’s only other entrance, and she came directly into the light.

A simple, form-fitting, deep blue military uniform—the same one that she had fitted when she herself had served in the Imperial Army—was so neatly pressed that Schneeblume could swear that it was painted on her.

The lapels on her shoulders were bright gold, with a soaring, platinum eagle flaring its wings to indicate the highest of royalty, but surprisingly, there was not much more flair than that. Gone was her royal helmet, crown, or visor-cap, instead letting her gorgeous, muted cyan main perfectly weave around her ear and down the base of her neck—an ideal complement to her lighter gray coat.

Her sharp ears (adorned with gorgeous earring ‘wings’ of platinum) pointed directly forward, and those golden eyes—reflecting more light than the very gold on her shoulders—allowed Schnee to peer into the soul of the highest, most powerful pony in the continent, and closest contender in the world:

Kaiserin Regenfall IV.

Regenfall continued to step forward—seemingly not at all bothered by Schnee’s lack of a curtsy—and met Schnee’s stunned face with a beaming, youthful, symmetric smile. Schnee also noticed that her leader’s left eye had some sort of aberration at the edge of her iris, as if somepony had cut a swathe through the vortex of those golden pools.

“Gefreiter Scheeblume Herbstlicht,” she acknowledged in return with a gentle nod.

She snapped to a salute so perfect that Schneeblume could hear the static crackle from her uniform.

Schneeblume was snapped out of her stupor, and she returned the salute to the taller mare in earnest, returning a shaky smile as best as she could given the circumstances.

And at that moment, Regenfall dropped all formalities and snagged Schnee’s neck in a hard embrace that evacuated her lungs from how hard she was squeezed. If she had been stunned upon the Kaiserin’s entrance, she was completely stone-faced, now.

So much so that Schnee was not able to properly return the ‘royal hug,’ but thankfully, the Kaiserin didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, as she pulled back and regarded her warrior with an enormous, prideful smirk.

Schneeblume barely had time to remark how young she looked…

The Alemaneian ruler then danced on her hooves giddily—seemingly more enamored at Schnee's presence than the other way around—and brushed past the stricken soldier.

“I’m so thrilled you’re here! Come! Come! We have much to discuss over lunch!” the Kaiserin excitedly beckoned Schnee, waving her over.

In the split second before it would have become inappropriate to react to Her Majesty’s call, Schnee’s mind was already in shambles. This was the mighty Alemaneian Queen that had given those addresses, who had so forcefully called to an end to Allied encroachment?

This girly, giddy, seemingly-as-young-as-Schnee mare was the Kaiserin?

Well, she looked exactly like the pictures.

And right then is where Schnee fell into step with her ruler.

Right before their eyes, a squad of at least a dozen royal servants burst through the doors carrying various equipment. With slight of hoof over the next several seconds that even impressed Schneeblume, a small table with two chairs was set up… including a reasonable amount of fresh food array atop a simple, white tablecloth.

Lunch was served in about the amount of time it took Schneeblume and team to set up a heavy machine gun.

Kaiserin Regenfall flipped her mane and regarded Schnee playfully over her shoulder.

“Shall we?”

And just like that, Schneeblume promptly found herself sitting at a small table—stacked with some of her favorite dishes to serve herself—having lunch with the monarch of her nation.

Weirder things have happened, she supposed.


“You met the Kaiserin?!” Sweetie Belle’s voice ripped through the post-story atmosphere, and Schnee had to internally remark that her adolescent face was adorable when it was gripped in abject shock.

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, sitting on either side of the coiffed-maned young mare held similar, albeit less-struck demeanors. Still, it was quite the revelation.

The three best friends were sat on their usual, comfy couch in Schnee’s home across from their host.

Schneeblume—Ponyville’s newest but well-established florist—reclined back in her own chair, and tinged her ceramic, right hoof against the teacup she cradled in her left. A smug but, ever-so-slightly awkward smile was adorned on her face.

Her Alemaneian accent bathed her eventual reply in a silky-smooth tone:

“Honestly, I wasn’t a stuttering mess at the time. I had been picked for something I considered my duty during the War.”

Apple Bloom chimed in:

“But, doesn’t that make ya like… a celebrity?”

Schneeblume nodded in consideration.

“It did… for a small time I suppose. But thanks to her, I wasn’t too much in the limelight. I’d rather not have had all eyes on me when I went back to the front, ja?”

Scootaloo seemed to agree with Schnee’s rather nonchalant attitude to the whole ordeal.

“Yeah… to me, you don’t really seem the type to really want to put yourself out there, if that makes any sense.”

A newer, much more masculine voice cut into the conversation by clearing their throat:

“Indeed,” the brown-eyed, beige-coated Tea Leaf sat patiently in his own chair adjacent to both parties. His distinctly Anglomane accent was directed at Schnee.

“You certainly don’t seem the public type.”

Schneeblume was quick to confirm that with a more-than-satisfied shake of her head. Her mane—having grown longer and a bit fluffier over the past month—bounced in tandem.

“Nein! But no matter what happened, how quiet ponies tried to keep it, it was bound to get out eventually. Especially to my unit,” she explained, uncrossing and re-crossing her hind legs in her chair.

“One doesn’t just fight a battle one day, then the next get suddenly pulled from the frontline when they’re not wounded. Your comrades will have questions!” she noted, and Tea Leaf, a veteran of the Anglomane army that opposed Schneeblume’s Alemaneian forces, agreed with a deep nod.

“Quite so,” he added.

Schneeblume smirked at Tea, and how comfortable he had become in what were ritual ‘talks’ between her and the Crusaders. She remembered vividly when he introduced himself to her, and asked her a rather tough, but important question about her post-war experiences.

Namely, how she dealt with it all.

And through that, they happened to become quite close friends. It was interesting to note that a lot of other soldiers had fled Equidae once the war ended, and she supposed it was only time before she met somepony who used to be her ‘enemy.’

She did not expect him to become as close as he was, though. Funny how life worked like that.

Turning back towards the Crusaders, Sweetie Belle still harbored a distinctly shocked look on her face.

Schnee chuckled:

“You seem unsettled, Sweetie Belle,” she pointed out, which shook the teenage filly out of her stupor.

“Maybe I just don’t understand,” she replied. “But I’d tell that story all the time! I just had no idea that you had such a… mark of excellence on your record,” Sweetie added, unsure of her choice of words but getting her point across nonetheless.

Schneeblume shrugged.

“As I said before, I did not place pivotal importance on it. You three have met Princess Celestia multiple times in your young lives… it probably does not strike you much, I’d wager.”

The three Crusaders had to concede that point.

Scootaloo, however was quite eager to hear what happened next:

“This is gettin’ intense! What happened then?”

Even Tea Leaf was most inquisitive:

“Indeed. I’m curious to how this ended…”

The jet-black maned mare brushed off some dust from her ceramic hoof and set her tea down to continue.

“Well, by that time, we had set up for lunch, and there I was, eating with the leader of our empire at the time…”


“Please, as much as you like!” Regenfall insisted as she witnessed Schnee barely scooping much onto her plate.

“I’m aware that at certain times… nourishment isn’t exactly plentiful on the front…” she admitted a bit sheepishly.

To Schneeblume, perhaps that comment was a mite insensitive—though it was one-hundred percent true—but well-meaning nonetheless. Schnee did as her stomach commanded in that case, and scooped much more mashed potatoes and Alemaneian cooked fish onto her plate.

Schneeblume looked over at her ruler, however, and noticed that she was not following her own advice. In fact, it looked like she was rationing herself strictly.

Schneeblume’s lungs burned to say something about what she was witnessing, but thankfully, she didn’t have to speak up, as Regenfall easily felt the soldier’s stare on her.

“I prefer to mimic the average, current rations of my soldiers on the front. If you feast, I feast. If you go without, so will I. It’s only fair.”

Schneeblume blinked. And blinked hard.

Was this mare truly royalty? If she didn’t resemble all the portraits around the city and the palace, she would’ve sworn that this was an imposter. But no, here was the Kaiserin limiting herself to what the soldiers often ate at the front.

Then again, she was a soldier at one point as well. Perhaps not old enough by any means to have served in the Pranco-Alemaneian War of a few decades ago, but at least had some measure of grasp of the soldiers’ plight.

Credit where credit was due.

The pair continued to indulge in a calm silence. While there was awkwardness initially, Schneeblume’s feelings of unease in her core had slowly whittled away as she introduced food to her mouth. Then, it was like eating—in some manner—with an old family acquaintance.

The gentle clinking of plates continued for an unknown amount of time before Regenfall spoke up once again:

“I hope you know that your acts of valor have not gone unnoticed, Private,” the Kaiserin brought up.

Schnee finally found it appropriate to speak after chewing her food.

“I’m a soldier, much like my comrades, Your Highness. Anypony else would have done what I did in the circumstances my company faced. I just happened to be the pony in that pivotal point,” Schnee replied so matter-of-factly.

Regenfall looked up from her plate and regarded her with a warm smile.

“You’re much too humble, my valiant warrior. But unfortunately, that’s where you’re wrong,” she countered.

“There are very few soldiers on the field who would muster up the courage you did, in the face of a gruelling, onslaught of an offensive by the Prench. In fact, reading the order of battle, the safest, most cost-effective plan was to retreat a couple of miles.”

Schneeblume only paid close attention as the Kaiserin kept talking:

“But you… you led a counterattack against a still-moving offensive spearhead. You held that ridge within an inch of your lives… and you won! You allowed your division to follow up and roll back the Prench gains.

“We gained ground during an enemy offensive.”

She pointed to Schneeblume’s chest. A bright, beaming smile adorned the Kaiserin’s face.

“Because of you, noble Schneeblume.”

Schneeblume managed a small, prideful smirk and nodded deeply to her leader.

“Thank you for the recognition, my Queen… but I assure you it was a group effort. My company… my division, actually, bore the brunt of it. I just happened to be there.”

Regenfall understood completely, and showcased this with another, reciprocal nod of assurance.

“Indeed. Your unit has been distinguishing itself during the entire course of the war. I must say, I’m most impressed with the Sixth Infantry. You lot have distinguished yourself many times so far!

Schnee could definitely talk about the accomplishments of her division:

“My division is like family to me. They are… one of a kind,” Schnee smiled truly and genuinely for the first time, reminiscing about them.

Part of her wished she was back with them at the front. They understood her better than most civilians did by this point.

“Speaking of family,” the Kaiserin added. “I’m sure yours must be incredibly proud of you, and for everything you’ve done for our nation.”

Schnee’s face sullied, if only briefly as she averted her gaze to the left. The pattern of the hardwood floor was suddenly quite interesting.

“Perhaps… perhaps not,” she noted.

Regenfall cocked her head.

“Would your family not hold you to great esteem for your actions?”

Schneeblume resolutely shook her head.

“No, Your Majesty. Likely not anymore, at least…” she solemnly stated.

Regenfall watched Schnee for a few tense seconds, but decided not to pursue the matter further. Perhaps she realized that this was a sensitive subject for her, and instead moved onto something else after clearing her throat.

“Either way, Schneeblume, you were the catalyst for us clinching victory out of the jaws of defeat. And while your entire division will indeed be rewarded, I feel you deserve something… a little more tailored to your efforts…”

Schneeblume looked on as the Kaiserin fished something from one of her many uniform pockets, finally finding what she was looking for.

“I was also made to understand that you’re not one for large, ceremonious crowds. Which is why I felt this the best way to give this to you.”

Regenfall placed a small jewelry box on the table—it had square dimensions of a few inches on either side. It was also decorated with the national flag atop of the piece that Schnee was supposed to lift off.

She slid it to Schnee’s side of the table, and looked on with a motherly smile.

“For you, noble warrior.”

Schnee gazed down at the box in front of her, and then flicked her eyes back up to Regenfall, who was excitedly urging Schneeblume to open the box by virtue of her hooves.

Heeding her leader’s urgencies, Schneeblume did just that. Her clean hooves made contact with the top of the velvety little box and gingerly pulled the top away. Schnee’s eyes widened and reflected all the sparkling light of the medal that lay inside.

Cushioned within, was a perfectly sculpted, golden medal of the Eagle’s War Cross. The golden Alemaneian Eagle cradled the National Alemaneian Cross in its talloned grasp. All of this was studded with beautiful sapphires on the perimeter of the ‘wreath’ as it were.

Alemaneia’s highest honor.

It was beautiful.

Regenfall placed her hoof in the box and lifted up, revealing that it was attached to a sash that was supposed to go around her neck.

“May I?” the Kaiserin inquired, and Schnee knew exactly what she meant.

“O-Of course, my Queen.”

With that, they both stood up from their chairs and got to their hooves. Schneeblume stood straight and at attention as Regenfall—with medal in her right hoof—stood in front of of her. She then spread out the sash and placed it over Schnee’s head, and tightened it around her neck.

Standing back from her handiwork, Schneeblume’s chest was now adorned with the greatest war medal that Alemaneia could bestow. And it shimmered in what little light made its way from the outside of the palace.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Regenfall then saluted Schneeblume once more, to which the soldier returned the gesture in earnest.

However, the Kaiserin noticed something that Schnee was trying to keep buried:

“You don’t seem as happy as I’d have expected to earn such an honor… is something wrong?” she asked.

There was little point in Schnee lying to her head of state, so she figured she would come clean:

“Your Highness, may I speak freely?”

Regenfall smiled invitingly.

“By all means, soldier. We are equals today.”

Schnee took the words to heart and spoke hers, if a bit jumbled as her thoughts ran through her mind at a million miles an hour:

“Please don’t misunderstand my concerns for… I mean… I would die for my country countless times. I… I don’t feel overjoyed to have earned the nation’s highest honor for taking part in, and aiding in the killing of countless Prench… and Anglomane ponies.”

Regenfall stood there silently for a couple of seconds before smirking… then chuckling.

“My beautiful warrior… that’s not true at all.”

Schneeblume cocked her head, which gave the Kaiserin her cue to continue.

Regenfall closed the distance between the two of them, perhaps a little more than what Schneeblume would have been comfortable with.

“My armies do not ‘kill ponies,’ as you say…” she stated in such a way that made Schnee’s assertions sound utterly ridiculous.

She didn’t have time to reflect on this, however, as for the first time, Regenfall’s face darkened under her natural, commanding stoicism.

“...they simply annihilate the enemy. And leave nothing of them to remember.”


“Did she actually say that?” Tea Leaf cut in incredulously.

Each of the Crusaders had their own choice of words for reaction:

“Seriously…?” Sweetie Belle deadpanned.

“Wow… that’s just sad…” Apple Bloom asserted.

“Sheesh…” Scootaloo’s features contorted almost uncomfortably. “At least she wasn’t shy about it.”

Schneeblume nodded.

“And that’s when I realized that the leader whom ‘related’ so much to us… was merely another military leader,” she said, then sipped her drink.

“I would not go so far as to call her a ‘tyrant,’ but any respect I had for her diminished greatly after she uttered those words… you see, there are many ways to go about motivating your soldiers,” she continued.

“But one of the worst—yet ironically most effective—ways to do that is to de-equinize the enemy.”

Sweetie Belle bade her to continue:

“Oh?”

“Ja,” Schnee confirmed. “What better way to galvanize your troops than to proclaim that they’re not fighting other ponies… but beasts. Vermin not worth your time, nor your compassion.

“There is a reason the term ‘Allied Hordes’ became popular on the front.”

Apple Bloom raised her hoof.

“What happened to Regenfall after the war?”

Schneeblume nodded in familiarity:

“Ahh, right. Well, she abdicated almost immediately once the Seele Offensive ended and the war was declared over. She dissolved the Imperial government, called for immediate elections, released almost all of her assets to the new government to help rebuild, and then… she left.”

Tea Leaf cut in again:

“Wait, you’re saying she just up and buggered off?”

“Indeed,” Schneeblume affirmed. “After signing over most of her family fortune, she took whatever she had left to her name, put on some civilian clothes, and just… went away. She gave one last speech to what was her Empire, explaining her decision, expressing her remorse for the goings of the War, and then went into self-imposed exile.”

Schnee shrugged as she stared off into the distance momentarily:

“Where she wanders now… I couldn’t tell you. Wherever she is, Regenfall is keeping a low profile and, knowing her, likely not getting much sleep.”

Something else, however, seemed to be weighing on Scootaloo’s mind, and she decided to finally make that known, raising her hoof to garner attention:

“Schnee? I’ve got a question.”

All eyes were on here, and the Flower Mare smiled lovingly:

“Of course!”

“What did you mean when you said that your family wouldn’t be proud of you?”

The entire room went quiet and all attention was back on Schneeblume, who stared at Scootaloo with a diagonal slant of a smirk… one that conveyed expectation.

“You of all ponies would be the one to ask some of the more… profound questions. Given our history together I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she surmised with a chuckle.

Scootaloo drooped her head knowingly, but took no offense to that comment. All ponies in the room knew exactly what she meant by that. It was her doing and suspicion that made sure all of them in this room were friends, after all.

Schnee took another breath as she marshalled her thoughts, and then spoke anew:

“I guess you all would need to understand my family dynamic…” she said, and locked eyes one at a time with everypony in the room as she continued to talk:

“My mother died when I was six… which devastated my father. I’m still actually not sure how she died, to be honest. It was always kept from me to… spare me I guess? I have no siblings and my father never remarried.

“When my father was sixteen, he lied about his age and enlisted in the West Alemaneian Army before my country was united to fight the Prench in the last war. He saw… things during that short but terrible conflict that he never told me of. He rarely spoke of it.

“But, he always told me after I was born that he forbade me to join the Alemanian Army. And he reminded me of this every time the general recruiting drives came around my town. I had a very special bond with Papa, so I always took heed. Besides, I wanted to do something else with my life.”

Schneeblume took a small break and brought the lip of her teacup to her mouth. She gently slurped her preferred elixir as she maintained all attention on her.

After she sighed out blissfully, her stoicism returned.

“Then, the Equidae War broke out. Right when I turned eighteen.”

Sweetie Belle nodded in understanding as she was clearly rationalizing things in her head, but Tea Leaf decided to weigh in with some quintessential wit:

“Happy birthday to you, aye?”

Schnee huffed humorously, if mirthfully.

“Ja, right?” she said. “But I remember vividly hearing the Kaiserin’s speech over the public radio when I was out with friends. She was so proud! So… perfect were her words that she managed to me the prospect of war so appealing.

“The call to arms had been made. Volunteers enlisted by the tens of thousands. The promise of glory, travel, and the settling of old rivalries with the Prench and the Anglomanes proved to whet everypony’s appetite…”

Her next words were quite sarcastic as she parroted the rhetoric:

“Even mine. The Prench were weak. The Anglomanes just as much. It would be a walk. We’d steamroll them... drive a wedge between the two countries and end the short conflict with us being the dominant party on the continent.

“We all know how wrong we all were…” she duly noted.

“...but I made a mistake I couldn’t hope to avoid: I went home. In full recruit uniform before I was to report to basic training within three weeks. I came home thinking that my father, despite years of him opposing me joining the military would understand. He heard the Kaiserin’s speech too! She needed us.”

Schneeblume shook her head as she lamented.

“I had never been more wrong in my entire life so many times in such a short timespan.”

Sweetie Belle simply bade her on:

“What happened then?”

“He did hear the speech. I walked through the door, and I had never seen him go from looking at me with love… to sheer disgust.

“He screamed at me. Called me all kinds of names that no father should ever call their only daughters. I remember sitting on my haunches, pathetically watching him berate me as I cried and tarnished my new uniform.

“I tried to argue with him and get him to see reason. But in his explosive reaction… he would have none of it.

“He…” Schneeblume had to stop for a moment and purse her lips, exhaling to control her emotions.

“With tears in his eyes, he told me to gather what I needed and to leave. And that while I was a soldier for Alemaneia, I would not be his daughter.”

Jaws bounced on the floor, but Apple Bloom projected the most horror:

“He… He disowned you?”

Schneeblume nodded ruefully.

“So it would seem. Sobbing, I gathered all I needed, and stayed at a friends’ house until my classmates and I deployed.

“And that begins my journey through the war, in a sense. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Scootaloo spoke up again:

“Not even when the war ended? You never went back before you came here? What about when you went back to Alemaneia?”

Schnee shook her head.

“No. I thought about trying to amend things since I was no longer a soldier… but, with the scars and the loss of my hoof,” she dangled her porcelain prosthetic for reference.

“I… Returning to Alemaneia sapped all my will. I just had no more courage. I couldn’t face him in my state. Now, it’s been almost eight years since I’ve seen him, and what he feared would happen to me during the war… happened.”

Her voice became shakier, and eyes misty.

“That is, I left as his daughter. And I would return as something… broken. Not as I left. I couldn’t bear to have him ‘disown’ me a second time after the scars of Seele Plains especially were so fresh,” she reasoned.

Sweetie Belle smiled warmly.

“Well… you’ve grown, matured, and healed a lot since then. Maybe it’s time?” she put forth.

Schneeblume had usually been quite receptive to the ‘suggestions’ that the Crusaders had put forth, as they all helped her on her path to feeling whole again after the horrors of the Great War.

But this time, she was a little more reticent.

“I… I just don’t know, girls.”

At the mention of the word ‘time’ however, Apple Bloom stole a glance at the clock… and was not particularly happy with what she saw.

“Darn it all… Ah’m sorry girls, but I need tah get home. Applejack’s gonna kill me if I forget about the west orchard again,” she revealed.

Everypony else took their own look at the clock. Afternoon was fast on its way to evening, and groans were aplenty from the Crusaders.

“Yeah, I should probably head back to the Boutique,” Sweetie Belle admitted. “Rarity did need my help with something.”

Scootaloo appeared to be in a similar situation.

“Yeah, same,” she said, moving to extricate herself from the sofa. “The ‘rents will get mad at me if I don’t do my chores… again,” she added.

“Perhaps we should all retire for the rest of the evening, then?” Tea Leaf said.

Schneeblume smiled at the three Crusaders and nodded deeply. They would all probably see each other the next day, or within the next couple of days if their habits for the last few years were anything to go by.

“Of course, girls!” she replied jovially. “Come and go as you please, my dears. My home is your home,” Schnee further reminded.

The three Crusaders got to their hooves and began to make their way towards the front door.

“Thanks for another story, Schnee!” Sweetie Belle called out over her shoulder, but before the three of them could all bid their farewells and exit, the teenage mare turned to face Schnee and Tea as they walked out.

“And don’t worry… I think you’d do great if you went back to see your father. I honestly think he’d love to see you… or at least know what happened to you,” she threw in her two bits.

Schneeblume smiled and averted her gaze a smidge. The girls really did have so much confidence in her that she rarely had in herself.

“The pleasure is all mine… and they help me more! And I’ll bear that in mind, meine Lieben. Now run along. I’ll see you all…?”

“Tomorrow!” Apple Bloom called out as they finally made their way out of Schnee’s house.

Scootaloo completed their curtain call with a wide-smiled:

“See ya!”

And the front door was closed behind them.

Schneeblume sighed out blissfully and got to her own hooves, ready to make her way towards her kitchen.

“Ahh, those girls… I don’t know what I’d do, or have done without them,” she voiced. Then called back over to Tea Leaf, who had also gotten to his hooves:

“Would you like anything else to drink before you leave?”

Tea shook his head.

“No thank you, Schnee. However, you do know those girls are right on the money, right?”

Schnee again sighed as she turned around. This time not so blissfully. She looked upon Tea with measurable conflict vividly seen through her eyes.

“I know but… they’re just teenagers. Teenagers with wonderful families who love them and with hearts of gold. They wouldn’t understand, Tea…”

Tea Leaf smirked and said incredulously:

“After all this time with them, all they have managed to help in bettering yourself… after all the horrors you’ve conveyed to them, you feel this is something they’d have trouble understanding?”

Schnee was caught red-hoofed, and her reddening cheeks projected this wonderfully.

“That’s—that’s not what I… ugh,” she grumbled, her brow furrowed. “I’m just…”

She shook her head and pawed at the hardwood floor.

“I’m scared… I can’t lose my father again. Not like eight years ago. It’s honestly better if he doesn’t even know I’m here. Maybe he thinks I died in the war. Perhaps that’s for the better,” she suggested.

Nopony was convinced of that.

“I don’t believe that last part for a second,” Tea Leaf declared with a small, sympathetic chuckle. He walked softly over to the conflicted mare.

“And it’s okay to be afraid. You don’t know how many veterans have trouble coming back to their own families who undoubtedly want to see them.

“And honestly?” he added, cupping Schnee’s cheek and drawing her gaze up at him.

“I think it would do well for him to see you. For both of you, regardless of what happens. You right lion, you… if you can survive Tartarus on Earth, then mate, I think you can wrangle with your old chap again.”

Schnee had one last card of uncertainty to play, however:

“I don’t even know if he even still lives.”

Tea shrugged.

“Oh I think he still does. A soldier like him will fight old age like the enemy, especially if he was as young as you say he was when he served. And even if he wasn’t living anymore, would you not care to know?”

Schnee did have to concede that point. Perhaps she kept letting her fears and nightmares get the better of her again.

“True… but, I’d rather not go alone,” she said, and looked off to the side. “Would… would you come with me?” she offered.

Tea Leaf smiled softly, honor welling up within him at Schnee’s offer.

“I would love to… but, I can’t,” he said.

Schneeblume cocked her head as he stepped back a tad.

“Why not, if I may?”

And in a surprise to her, Tea had a rather simple answer:

“Because if we go to Alemaneia, I’d rather not stoke fresh tensions as an Anglomane with my presence. Further, if we go, I’d feel like, as a soldier, I’d have to visit Seele with you, since I served there, too…

...and...” he added much more softly, visible anguish in his eyes.

“I’m not brave enough to face those scars of mine, at least yet. But the day I am, I’d love to come with you. But, I think those young mares out there...” he gestured outside the door. “...would make excellent company.”

Schneeblume nodded, and her soft smile mirrored that of Tea’s.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything else before you depart?” the Flower Mare asked.

Tea smiled warmly and shook his head. He then placed his hat atop his noggin with his wooden hoof.

“I’m quite alright, actually, thank you. But perhaps I’ll take you up on that next time we meet?” he asked with that distinctive upward curl of the right side of his mouth.

Schnee knew exactly what he meant, which would be the next time the two of them would meet over lunch. Likely the next day or the day after that.

The porcelain-coated mare mirrored his knowing smile, and her lavender eyes sparkled in the light of the cloudy afternoon.

“Of course!”

Tea closed the distance and brought Schnee into a tight, meaningful hug… one which the former stormtrooper eagerly accepted. The two former soldiers relished in each other’s embrace and shuttered their eyes as they allowed themselves to only feel each other’s presence.

Two former enemies on the battlefield.

Now, lifelong friends.

“See you later, My Enemy,” Tea bade Schnee farewell with traditional Anglomane snark.

However, this had become standard between the two of them. An understanding of where they were and where they stood.

Once they separated, Schnee returned his farewell to her with her own, and her own challenging smirk to boot:

“Auf wiedersehen, Feind.”

And with that, Tea tilted his hat forward, made his way out of Schnee’s domain, and shut the door behind him.

The Flower Mare was alone once more, with nopony but herself and her own thoughts as company. Admittedly, said thoughts had become much more welcome company over the years, and she could think freely on the more… difficult subjects of her life without being rendered a useless puddle of anxiety.

Well, the grand majority of the time at least.

But with Schneeblume being alone, she ran her ceramic hoof through her long, flowing, jet black mane, and noticed a few split ends in her peripheral vision.

She really needed a mane cut.

But, the thoughts of her father took precedent at the moment.

What should have been some casual mentioning in passing during her story of meeting the Kaiserin turned into a whole new ordeal entirely. It was true what the girls had mentioned, though… this was probably one of the last, unresolved, major issues with her life.

The scars of the war would always remain… but she didn’t have to be the de-facto last of her family anymore.

She thought on the last time she saw her father. How disappointed and enraged his features were. It would forever be ingrained in her mind… but the next step would be—should she meet him again—how would she do it?

Schneeblume wandered into her room, and was about to opt for a late-day nap… but she caught sight of a special chest at the edge of her vision:

Her war chest… the one that touched off all the more recent events of the last few years.

An odd sense of curiosity and nostalgia washed over her… and her hollow hoofsteps made their way over to her closet. With the aid of her mouth, she yanked the chest out into the middle of her room, then unceremoniously threw the top open.

The first of many things that greeted her was her helmet.

That sloped, steel assault helmet that was the hallmark of the deadly stormtroopers of the Southern front during the war. The woodland camouflage remained painted on, save for the dents, the scrapes, the scratches, and the chippings that wore the metal over time.

A perfect representation of her.

Schneeblume scooped her hoof by way of long-ingrained reflex under the brim of her helmet and brought it up to eye level. She examined the very thing that had been responsible for saving her life on so many occasions and regarded it with a warm fondness…

...and more than measurable pain.

And as she sat on the edge of her pristinely-made bed, she continued to cradle the object of her affection as her stare zoned off…

...as the remorse toward her father welled up within her at how he would possibly react seeing her as she currently was….

...wounded.

Unfamiliar.

Broken.

She shook that out of her head.

No.

Schnee resented that thought immediately. With the help of the Crusaders she was no longer broken.

Not anymore.

A single tear splashed down on the face of her helmet, and she blinked away a couple more when she realized that she had been shedding them.

Schneeblume sniffled once and wiped her face, if a bit shamefully…

...but realized that she had nopony to worry about but her own at the moment. Shame meant nothing to her after all she had been through and all she had done.

So as she let the sniffles come easier, and let her cries silently echo in her room, the former soldier had decided that she would return to Alemaneia to see her father, and do her best to mend ties with the only living family she had left.

She wanted that little nagging, unforgiving hole in her heart to hopefully stop hurting so much.

But even more than that, she missed her dad.

Void - Part 2 of 2

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[Alemaneia | A Few Weeks Later…]


The sky was blanketed by a thick sheet of rolling, gray clouds… the very kind that promised an atmospheric-river of rain within the next couple of hours and serving as a warning to any travelers who would dare tread on this, vast stretch of field.

The mood was somber—perfect for their location of seemingly innocuous plain that stood for tens of miles in either direction. The wind whipped through the manes of the four mares who stood together, and forcing them all to squint their eyes. That same wind created waves through the lush, green, flowery fields that seemed to beckon the small group of travelers.

The quietness, eerily so, was only disturbed by the wind’s soft, sonorous howl as it danced a routine most familiar to the oldest mare of the group.

Schnee’s normally cheerier exterior cooled in the presence of the majesty before them, and her features were now marked with the telltale signs of her soldiery of years past—a warrior’s stoicism.

For the three crusaders, it seemed to chill them to the bone to see Schnee in a way they had only seen her once or twice. Even more than that, from their perspectives, the Flower Mare seemed incredibly at peace, belied by her steely exterior.

As for the mare in question, she was thankful that she bundled herself up as much as she did on this cool, Alemaneian autumn day.

At some point, the silence became unbearable, and Scootaloo fidgeted on her hooves in the grass for a few more moments before working up the courage to speak out.

“Schnee?” she asked, earning everypony’s attention at an instant with the sudden disruption of an unduly calm, somber silence.

Schneeblume’s gaze never tore away from below, seemingly scanning each blade of grass for the entire expanse of these fields.

Scootaloo took this as a cue to continue:

“Where are we?”

The same question was harbored in the minds of Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom all the same, and all three young mares awaited Schnee’s response.

But, no response was forthcoming.

Well, at least, for a while… and one that made sense:

“Sweetie Belle?” came Schneeblume’s thick, alluring-accented reply that seemed wholly out of place for the question that was fielded.

Sweetie’s own thoughts were disrupted at the sound of her own name, but before the perfectly coiffed young mare could respond in kind, Schneeblume had other, much more direct words to add:

“You seem… anxious. Ja?”

Sweetie felt judged at that instant. To say that Schnee was spot-on in her assessment without looking at her directly would be a gross understatement.

“Y-yea… well, I mean…” Sweetie Belle struggled to find the words to clarify. Her hooves could not sit still in the soft dirt and grass, despite how much she loved the lush wilderness such as this.

She couldn’t put words to the weird feeling that was worming its way into her soul, and apparently, Schneeblume was able to single her out for it. For whatever reason, there was nothing for her to love here.

Thankfully though, she did not have to answer immediately:

“As a unicorn, you have a seventh sense about you through magic. Tell me, what do you feel?”

Scootaloo’s and Apple Bloom’s curious eyes were on their best friend now, and she felt even more like an animal in the carriage lights. What was Schnee’s point to all of this? Where was she going?

“I… I don’t know what you mean? It feels weird here, but…”

“Sweetie… please,” Schnee’s tone lowered from matter-of-fact to almost, pleading.

She then turned to her with those wide, lavender eyes that harbored so many horrors that she had seen in her life.

“I want you to close your eyes. Listen to your seventh sense. What do you feel through your magic?

“I must know…”

At her exhortation and a face that she simply couldn’t and wouldn’t say no to, Sweetie Belle did just that.

She took a deep breath and shuttered her eyes. She felt the wind lap at the exposed parts of her coat, rustling each and every fiber and tuft. She felt the cool, icy air enter her lungs and leave naught but a chilling trace as she breathed out.

Only she existed in the world as she became one with her surroundings, and reached out with her magic’s tendrillic hold in a method of meditation she learned through Princess Twilight Sparkle.

And as Sweetie tapped into the natural magic that poured over her from this simple, expansive field, she finally understood exactly why she felt uncomfortable.

…exactly why she inexplicably wanted to leave as soon as she arrived, and never return.

…exactly why she felt… wrong in existing at this very moment.

Sweetie’s mouth opened and she breathed her first, shaky words.

“I feel… cold. But not temperature-wise. I feel like the area is literally chilling my heart,” she began.

And she shakily continued:

“I feel… I feel like it’s incredibly hard to take in the natural magic here. It’s stuffy—it clogs the sieve of my horn. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to cast certain spells here without incredible difficulty.”

Schnee interjected at her pause, and beckoned her further.

“What else do you feel?”

“The beautiful scenery is masked. I feel like I don’t belong here… as if this is sacred ground,” Sweetie answered, eyes still shut.

“I feel… a darkness amongst the natural aura here. It’s… it’s cold. It’s angry… but at the same time, I feel calm.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both cocked an eyebrow as Sweetie Belle’s words became much more confident in articulating exactly what she felt.

“I feel like if I venture further, I’ll never walk out of this place again. But yet… I feel a strange, morbid peace surrounding me. It’s a deathly, spindly hoof that’s daring me… begging me to come closer and join them. It tugs at me… almost like a call from the void...”

And then, it all clicked.

It all made sense.

She thought feelings like this only existed in textbooks in Twilight’s Library, and that it was all fairy tales meant to scare young unicorns. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought she would be privy to what she was feeling, and envelop herself in.

It was an ‘Aetheric Scar.’ A mathematical ‘hole’ in the magical realm.

Sweetie’s eyes popped open as she took a deep breath. Her eyes teared heavily, and she gazed out upon the same, peaceful, lifeless land—only by sight.

“Schnee, where are we?!”

“You’re certainly in tune with your magical ability,” came the response. “But you know where we are.”

Solemnly, Sweetie nodded as she stared back out into the once innocuous expanse.

“So. These are the Seele Plains.”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom did not look too particularly surprised.

“I had a hunch…” the latter voiced.

But both their fidgeting spells ebbed away at an instant. Instead, calm looks of reverence replaced what little impatience they harbored.

Schnee could take as long as she liked for all they cared.

“While I wanted to visit again, I’m glad I was able to bring the three of you here...” Schnee spoke anew, earning the Crusaders’ attention at once.

She gestured with her once wounded hoof out toward the edge of the plains. Her voice was methodical and lecturing:

“Four years ago at this very spot, nearly twenty-thousand ponies lost their lives in a single day. I was almost one of them. All the rest of my childhood friends were slain here as well.”

She finally tore her gaze away and made sure to lock eyes with everypony, acknowledging their own reservations before continuing onward towards the horizon:

“The ponies that lay beneath the grass here did not throw their lives away… they were sacrificed,” she said unflinchingly, though that particular choice of word echoed in each of the girls’ minds.

She continued her soft explanation, though her voice bordered a whisper:

“The saddest part of it all, was that they knew they would be sacrificed. But, every single pony who was slain here hoped in their hearts that, if the War would claim them in its final hours, that their sacrifice would mean something… that their deaths would bring about a true end and meaning to ‘the war to end all wars.’

“Formerly friends and foes… now only ponies lay side by side. At the very least, they’ve found their peace.”

Sweetie Belle shot a look to her best friends, and they echoed her feelings of reverence and profoundness. There was nothing to say.

All they could do was exist.

A few more loaded moments of silence past before Schnee turned on her hooves.

“We should leave now,” was all she said before slowly walking back whence they arrived without so much as waiting for a response from her friends.

All was well though. It was time to leave.

Sweetie Belle nodded and started after Schnee whilst she called back softly towards the other two:

“Come on, girls.”

“Right behind ya, Sweets,” came Apple Blooms reply, and she promptly fell into step.

“Yep,” Scootaloo also answered, but…

...she hesitated.

With a single hoof in the air ready to make after the group, she turned back towards the expansive plains. She eyed the rolling grass on this overcast morning where the wind continued to dance a somber routine with nature as its partner.

And in a move Scootaloo would never be able to explain, she uttered with the utmost respect and deference:

“Rest in peace…”

The plains appeared to answer her with an extra powerful gust that rippled the long grass in her direction, crashing over her face in a way that calmed her tenuous nerves.

Scootaloo closed her eyes as she relished in the sudden bout of direct wind and dook a deep breath.

She then galloped away to quickly catch up with everypony, leaving the Seele Plains behind her in its natural silence.


[ Südgarden, Alemaneia | A Couple Hours Later…]


A gentle mist fell upon the quaint little town that might as well have been a suburb of the last major city the group of four passed through.

And it did well to blanket their destination in an ominous veil of white as they stood outside what was Schneeblume’s former home, where her father still lived.

The small house, with a simple door and two flanking, four-paned windows not unlike her own back in Ponyville. Schneeblume felt a small pang or guilt for not being able to show the girls some of the beautiful sights from when they docked at Siegstadt—the capital city of her likewise beautiful country. Their stop in Seele likewise was not exactly a refreshing walk.

The Crusaders had assured her consistently that there were more important things to take care of.

“Well… here we are. Südgarden, my hometown.” Schnee said after a few moments of silence.

She continued as she regarded her birth-home with a far-off fondness:

“Just like when I left. Nothing seems to have changed. And it's still so well maintained. My father still lives…” she mused.

Apple Bloom glanced up at her, the other two Crusaders flanking Schnee’s left.

“Yeah?”

Schnee nodded stoically.

“Ja. Nopony could maintain this as meticulously as he”

Scootaloo put a hoof forward towards the house.

“Then let’s go. We’re right behind you, Schnee.”

Sweetie Belle also rallied to her side.

“You know it!”

Schnee’s face colored with a fond warmness, but as she took her first steps forward to be in step with her closest friends, her hooves wavered…

...and her right hoof remained suspended in the air.

The girls had continued forward, but none of them were blind to the fact that Schnee was not following them anymore. All three of them turned back with measurable concern written on their faces, and saw their war veteran’s face… and her entire body… had demurred.

“Schnee?”

The mare in question did not look at them, and bore her gaze into the smooth, tidy walkway beneath her.

“I… I…” she struggled to marshall her thoughts. “I just…” she shook her head and shut her eyes tightly.

“I can’t face him like this…”

Scootaloo scurried up to Schnee and forcefully met her far-off stare.

“Yes you can! You can do this! We’ll be right here with you. Through everything!” she reassured with an open-mouthed smile.

A single tear fell from Schnee’s eyes.

“Gott im Himmel… hilf mir…” she whispered, and after rallying herself, she took a deep breath and steeled her gaze.

“I’m ready. But I need your girls’ help…” she admitted.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both stepped back over to her.

“Anything, Schnee.”

Schneeblume gulped once and spoke her request tenuously:

“Can… I hate to ask this of you girls, but can you please have him answer the door? I want to see how he looks before I ‘re-introduce’ myself. I need to know if I can still read him.

“If he’s held this anger for so long… I won’t be able to take it. I will run. I must… but I can’t have him cast me away again. Excuse yourselves for a ‘mistake’ and come find me. If not… then please direct him to me. I’ll wait somewhat in the mist veil.”

Regardless of what was to happen, the girls would rather have had Schnee stay and fight this one last battle, if it ever came to that.

But, silently, all three Crusaders shared a look of understanding. Schnee wanted to compromise on this, and it was not like they could physically restrain her.

They would accomodate and hope for the best.

Sweetie Belle nodded, as did her partners in crime.

“Okay. We’ll go first.”

Though Schnee felt shame for such a request, that same warmth welled up in her cheeks, and her heart rate calmed down in the figurative, comforting hooves of her younger friends. Her gratitude would forever be more than they knew.

“Thank you, meine Lieben. This means so much to me…”

Apple Bloom raised a tentative hoof in inquiry:

“Erm… just one thing, hun. What’s yer dad’s name?”

“Ah, yes… his name is ‘Haubitze.’ Haubitze Herbstlicht. But please, address him as ‘Herr Herbstlicht.’”

Scootaloo, determined as always, nodded once and smirked.

“You got it. We’ll be right back.”

Forming a trio with Sweetie Belle at the center, the three synchronously made their way up the walkway, and climbed the single stare that led them to that plain, wooden front door of Schnee’s former home.

And in the spirit of time, Sweetie Belle gave one last glance to her friends on either side of her for moral support, then lifted her hoof and delivered three purposeful knocks to the door.

Those heavy knocks seemed to echo through the modest-sized house, and the misty environment did not bode well for anypony, if clichés were to be adhered to.

The girls’ own confidence waned a tad when they heard an unlatching… and their wide eyes, wide with uncertainty for everypony involved, watched as the door swung inward. Light gradually creeped into the oddly dark room ahead.

Then, he emerged.

A stallion with a faded-white coat poked his head outside tentatively, and the Crusaders saw that what was once a jet-black mane much like Schnee’s had grayed with time, leaving only rivulets of darkness as a relic of his past youth. His build—easily larger and more muscular than the average stallion likely due to his past soldiery—showcased somepony who was certainly not that old, perhaps in his late fifties.

But his face… his face seemed to age faster than the rest of his body. His emerald eyes were hollow and were fraught with a sorrow that seemed to have never abated with the passage of time. Wrinkles framed his mouth like dried up riverbeds from history. Still, his angular jawline showcased somepony who still had some semblance of waning youth.

And his entire posture was sullen. He looked weak.

Anguished.

He had given up.

The stallion’s attention then fell upon the group of three standing directly in front of him, and—ascertaining no threat—stepped further into the misty light.

His greeting sounded of somepony who was tired… both physically and mentally. Yet, his eyes appeared to light up a smidge at the sight of the impressionable young mares before him.

“Hallo, Kleinen… Kann ich euch helfen?”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both settled their own gazes on Sweetie Belle… who was the only pony out of the three of them that had any semblance of a grasp of the Alemaneian language.

The ball now rested with Sweetie Belle… and she knew now that this was a small language test.

Thusly, with far from a native accent, she returned the greeting:

“G-Guten Morgen. Es… es tut mir leid, aber… sind Sie Herr Herbstlicht?” she inquired on his identity, just to make sure that the ball was rolling.

And thankfully, it looked like he didn’t notice a shy Schneeblume behind them… yet. And neither did they hear any hoofsteps from her running away.

He cocked his head, and his ears righted at the sudden mention of what was clearly his surname by ponies he didn’t know.

“Ja…” he nodded slowly, and raised an eyebrow. “Kenn’ ich euch?”

And in Sweetie Belle’s heart, she knew this was the time.

“No sir, you don’t know us… but we tagged along with someone whom you might…”

Sweetie Belle stepped aside, and both Scootaloo and Apple Bloom heeded her steps in kind. The former gestured back towards the walkway, so Schneeblume and her father could have complete visibility of each other.

Their eyes met.

Lavender and emerald locked intensely with one another, though Schneeblume eventually shied her gaze away and timidly crossed her left front leg over her right. What little innocence remaining she claimed to have shown through like a strobe light.

Their shared, fixed stare seemed to last a small lifetime.

As for the stallion, his jaw slackened, and his eyes dilated almost comically. However, there was no comical aspect of his suddenly righted posture and shaky words:

“S-Schneeblume?!” he dared to incredulously question with barely a whisper, reaching a hoof out.

Schnee didn’t even get a chance to answer, as Haubitze barged past the Crusaders, negating their distance in fractions of a second and stood directly in front of her. Though he was taller, he lowered his head a tad to be at eye-level with her.

“Please… is it really you?!” he asked, desperately. His eyes wavered, and shone of a stallion who was done with false hopes, and needed one last reassurance of reality.

Schneeblume, with her right eye partially hidden by her flowing mane, met Haubitze’s eyes, and a familiar twinkle on her face that seemed so familiar, yet different in the keenest of ways told him all he needed to know.

The tiniest of smiles creased her muzzle.

“Hi dad…”

And with those words, Haubitze’s lips began to quiver, and his blinking became much more rapid as his mouth fought to out some semblance of a response.

Schnee herself braced herself for anything. She could not read past the dumbstruck complexion of her father, and things could go fairly poorly at any moment.

Then, Haubitze clenched his eyes shut and lunged forward, throwing both of his front legs around her neck and pulling her tightly against him…

...and he began sobbing.

The tears overflowed entirely and streamed down his cheeks like a destroyed faucet as he buried his face in his long-lost daughter’s mane. He cooed her name over and over again as if it would heal every wound in his heart.

And after being embraced so warmly by her father for the first time in over eight years, Schneeblume pulled him just as tightly to her and bore no shame as she, too, wept. Through tightly shuttered eyes and bared teeth, their shared cries of such pain… such anguish, rue, and sorrow were unabashedly spilled.

The Crusaders were not spared dry eyes in the slightest, either.

Haubitze inhaled painfully and uttered after a couple good minutes:

“I thought you were killed… Oh god I thought you were buried in the fields…”

Schneeblume held onto him tighter, if that were even possible, and sniffled harshly at his words.

“No… I lived. Through all four years. And I’m back…”

Haubitze kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so so sorry for everything I’m a failure of a father! I love you so much, my little flower!”

Schneeblume pulled back and—with watery eyes that held all the love in the world—shook her head at her distraught father. She placed her right hoof on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Papa… but none of that now, please…”

Haubitze winced at her touch.

“Darling your hoof is so cold, why—”

He froze when he took Schnee’s hoof into his grasp and found cold ceramic in its place with a somewhat jagged, slanted faultline where prosthetic precisely met her skin and coat.

A perfect mold of what once was her hoof. But now, unfeeling. Cold.

Haubitze retched… flinched and recoiled in his stomach as if he was struck.

Schnee commented with no small modicum of disgrace:

“I survived. But only just. I’m… I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

Haubitze cradled her ceramic hoof in his own, gingerly stroking it as his face became impossibly more wracked with heartache and grief at the revelation. His tears fell in heavy droplets to the walkway whilst he shook his head disbelievingly.

“No… no no no no…”

All the while, he met the top of her hoof with his forehead, pressing himself against her to feel just how cool to the touch her hoof was… the same hoof he held when he would take her out and about around the town. The same hoof on which she took her first step as a filly.

A casualty of war.

His tears smeared on her smooth prosthetic, and he delivered a single kiss unto it.

Schneeblume’s heart tore in two at the sight, and it was futile to stem the flow of the cascading rivulets from her eyes.

“Dad… Papa… it’s okay,” she assured him, letting Haubitze pay his reverence to her wound. “The medics saved me. A-And the surgeons fixed me up good! I was lucky I didn’t die that day.”

Eyes reddened painfully from his crying, Schnee’s father looked up at her from his hunched positioning.

“How?”

“A grenade.”

“Where?”

“Seele,” she answered.

The infamous final battle. It still didn't diminish the crippling pain in his heart. There was no answer he could come up with that would have alleviated anything for either of them.

Haubitze was suddenly aware that they had an audience, and he glanced over his shoulder at the Crusaders who were watching the wholesome spectacle. All three had been shamelessly shedding their own tears at the beautiful sight. Scootaloo had tried to cover this up, but was ultimately unsuccessful.

He turned back to Schnee.

“Let’s go inside. Please?”


It had been an interesting day for the Crusaders, that was for sure.

A moment ago, they bore witness to one of the best things that could have ever happened to Schneeblume. A sight they would never forget.

And barely a few minutes later, they found themselves sitting on an ultra-soft sofa with Alemaneian cookies served in front of them on a coffee table.

Weirder things have happened after all.

Still, even though the sweets were indeed delicious—some of the best they had ever had, even back in Equestria—it still did not detract from the somewhat awkward silence that pervaded the foreign family room.

Well, awkward for the three of them at least.

A less awkward silence had been established between Schneeblume and Haubitze, as was to be expected.

Still, they sat across from each other, neither of them speaking, but relishing in each other’s company after so long. It appeared that the color had returned to Haubitze’s face, and his expression was no longer sullen. His emerald eyes had a spark in them that had previously died out.

As for Schnee, none of the Crusaders had ever seen her so… giddy. So childlike.

They were content to sit in silence, though. They were there mainly for moral support, anyway.

Schneeblume’s voice cut through the aforementioned silence:

“Girls… I truly hate to do this, but would you mind giving me a few moments with my dad alone? My room is down the hall. Feel free to rummage through everything you see there. Any clothes or… really anything you find there, is yours to keep.”

All three Crusaders smiled as they moved off the sofa. To them, their work had already been done. It was time for Schnee to do the rest.

“Absolutely!” Sweetie Belle assured. “Come on girls, let’s check out her room.”

“I call first dibs!” Scootaloo tore past and galloped down the hall.

“Oh no you ain’t!” Apple bloom cried, hot on her tail.

Sweetie rolled her eyes and addressed a clearly amused Haubitze.

“Sorry… please excuse us.”

The patriarch was more than accommodating, just happy to have life back in his abode once more.

“No problem at all. Thank you.”

And with that, Sweetie Belle took her leave after her friends, and made sure to close the door behind her once she had found her destination down the hall.

Schneeblume turned to face her father again, whose eyes still watered with barely briddled happiness at her mere presence.

And his smile… one which was sparing and fleeting ever since her mother died, was contageous even for Schnee, who had no such shame in letting more tears spill over and down her cheeks.

“Sorry…” Schnee said before wiping her face with her left hoof and sniffling.

Haubitze, however, would have none of that.

“No. I’m the one who should be sorry, darling… for being a terrible father to you,” he said.

Schnee reached forward and placed her left hoof on her father’s.

“Dad, please… we don’t need to answer to the past. Things were said and… let’s not talk about that right now, or just yet at least. I just want to be here with you. We can atone later, I promise.”

Never breaking eye contact with his daughter, Haubitze rotated his hoof and held on tightly to Schnee’s. Eyes still misty and his cheeks stained accordingly, he chuckled in reminiscence.

“Your mother would always tell me the same thing when I’d bring up the past.”

He smiled warmly as he angled his gaze elsewhere for a moment.

“She would always nudge me in the side and jokingly pester me. She’d tell me ‘Haubie! You’re being a plunger again… bringing up old shit!’”

“PFFFT!” Schneeblume had to react quickly to cover her mouth with her right hoof.

But it was no use, as one of the most genuine laughs tore free from her mouth from the depths of her soul. One that was shared with her father in earnest.

Schneeblume wiped her eyes and blinked.

“That sounds exactly like something mom would say.”

Haubitze’s smile waned only slightly, even through his remnant chuckling.

“I never told you… did I?”

Schnee cocked her head to the right.

“Told me what?”

“How your mother died.”

Schneeblume recoiled about an inch and blinked. Hard. That was certainly not one of the topics she expected to come out of her dad’s mouth.

She shook her head.

“No, you never did, even when I asked. You always avoided the question or gave me a vague roundabout answer. I figured you had your reasons, though I would eventually like to know… for closure.”

Haubitze nodded a couple of times.

“Frühling was also a soldier. Like me, and later, like you.”

Schnee’s eyes irised wide in disbelief.

“What??”

“You never knew, did you, darling?” Haubitze followed up after sipping some tea he had off to the side.

Schnee looked to the floor and shook her head. This was all news to her.

“How did… why didn’t either of you tell me that??”

“Me being a soldier was not possible to hide. I would have if I could. But if knew both of us were soldiers, you were so much more likely to enter the service when you came of age…” he explained.

And shook his head.

“I didn’t want you following in my hoofsteps. And neither your mom nor I wanted you to follow in hers.”

Schneeblume flicked her eyes back up to meet her father’s, and he could easily read through her exterior.

“Obviously this didn’t prevent that. Partly why I… lashed out eight years ago,” he admitted shamefully.

Schnee opened her mouth to say something else but Haubitze beat her to it:

“After I got home from my war against the Prench, I told myself that I would never settle down with a soldier mare. I lost too many ponies close to me to ever want to go through that with somepony I loved.

“But…” he continued. “The heart wants what it wishes, regardless of what the brain often wills.”

Schneeblume leaned forward with rapt attention. While pang deep down in her gut demanded she be more that a little peeved at not being told these details, the reasons were slowly panning out.

“You met mom shortly afterward, didn’t you?”

Haubitze nodded once, deeply.

“That I did. In walks this gorgeous mare when I was visiting with family at the local tavern. I knew the moment I lay eyes on her in that spring dress, that I had to have her…”

Schneeblume had no control over the stupid, cramped smile on her face.

“Awww. Never knew were such a sap!”

He was willing to play along.

“Your father was capable of many miracles back in his day. Many mares would agree…”

It was Schneeblume’s turn to retch.

“Okay let’s not discuss that!”

“You’re no fun…” he teased. “But yes. Turns out Frühling was also a soldier in the Alemaneian Border Corps.”

Schnee’s eyes sparkled.

“She was a border guard??”

“Indeed she was,” Haubitze affirmed.

Schnee sunk back into her chair in bewilderment. Suddenly things made so much more sense.

“That’s why she would leave on extended ‘business trips!’”

“I was worried you’d figure it out when you were a filly,” her father admitted. “You were too smart for your own good sometimes.”

And that’s when Schnee’s answer she was seeking clicked in her head.

“She… Mom. I remember mom never came home one time. You told me there was an accident in Siegstadt. That was a lie wasn’t it?”

Haubitze opted to just stare at Schneeblume as she began to rationalize and formulate the correct answer.

And her voice was much softer this time:

“She was killed in a border incident, wasn’t she?” she finally wagered.

“Now you know,” Haubitze answered plainly.

Though Schnee opted to remain silent and reflect on this, Haubitze had some words laced in no immeasurable amount of pain:

“I can’t tell you how many arguments I had with her… begging her to take her familial discharge. I begged her to stay every time she was called up. I couldn’t lose her.”

Another tear rolled down his cheeks at the memory.

“But curse that mare… she loved her country and her job. My worst nightmare came when I was given the news. Her body was unrecoverable.”

His words grew ever more shaky yet confident all the same.

“I… lost so much during the war. But I truly lost my life that day.”

Oh how Schneeblume could relate. She felt a longing for her mother that she had never felt before.

“You have her eyes. Those bright, lavender eyes. I knew from then that I would be a better father to you. You would want for nothing and I would care for you and love you until my dying breath.

“Twelve years later, you came home in the Alemaneian uniform.”

Schneeblume remembered that day vividly.

“I saw your mother that day. In you. Those eyes burned with a patriotic fervor and lust for adventure that only I had seen in Frühling. And…

“I snapped. I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t lose what part of her I had left in you, either. That’s why I said the things I said that day. Words I regret to this day.”

Schnee’s mind was awash with understanding. Everything, for once in her life, began making sense.

Haubitze’s words refused cease:

“You marched to war. I read every single letter you wrote to me… but I was too much of a pussy to write you back.

“I scoured every single casualty list that came through. Especially the list of the dead. My heart would stop every time I saw a ‘Schneeblume.'”

“Papa…” Schnee started, reaching a tentative hoof forward.

Fresh tears poured down his face.

“Then, your letters stopped coming. And the casualty lists became more and more unreliable. I thought you were lost. And then for four more years… nothing. I was sure you were dead.

“And the last thing I had ever told you was me disowning you. When I accepted the fact you died, I never felt more like a worse, failure of a stallion in my life.

“I was alone. Rightfully so.”

Schneeblume cut in. She couldn’t bear to see her father like this, and she knew the proper solution. But first there was some order of business to take care of:

“You’re not alone. And you never will be again. Because I forgive you. Your daughter still loves you. She always has,” she finished with a warm smile

A dopey smirk wormed its way onto Haubitze’s face.

“After everything… you truly are your mother’s loving spirit. It may be a little late, but I’d love the chance to be a better father to you. And to make up what I can.”

And Schnee was afforded the opportunity to propose what she wanted to:

“Come with me, then.”

Haubitze cocked an eyebrow.

“Huh? Where?”

“Equestria.”

“Is that where you’ve been since the war ended?” he asked.

Schneeblume nodded vehemently.

“Yes! Those teenagers in my room right now were the ones responsible for… this right now. I moved to Equestria to get away from it all after I healed…”

It was Schnee’s turn to talk. And talk she did. She told her father her entire story about the end of the War, her move to Equestria, and her fateful meeting of the Crusaders. She went into painstaking detail of how they changed her life in all the best ways… even going as far as to say how they saved her life, and brought her back from the darkness.

And how in the end, all she wanted to do was sell beautiful flowers to ponies.

“After so much…” Haubitze finally voiced after staying silent for so long. “After all this time, you find beauty in the simplest of life’s pleasures. I always knew you would be a wonderful mare. You still manage to inspire me after all this time. You have your mother to thank for that one,” he chuckled.

“No,” Schnee replied. “I have both of you to thank.”

“I trust Equestria has treated you well?” he ventured to ask, just to be sure.

“It had a somewhat rocky start but… it’s truly home now. I have a life there, with wonderful friends. Many of them other veterans of the war who wished to escape.

“And I’d love for you to be apart of that life. Come back home with me… with us. You have a house with me, and an entire land to explore with some of the friendliest ponies in the world.”

Haubitze sat unblinking for a while, reflecting on Schneeblume’s offer which did little to help settle the latter’s nerves on the proposition.

The wide smile, however, did wonders.

“Would you mind fetching your three young friends for me? I wish to speak with them…”

Schneeblume blinked, a smidge worried.

“Is… something wrong?”

“Not at all, darling… I just wish to… properly thank them.

A wave of fondness crossed Schnee’s features, and she smiled warmly at her father. After hyping up how much the Crusaders played a role in her healing and development after the War, it appeared that those words weren’t lost on her father.

“Sure… I’ll be right back,” she said, and hoisted herself up off her chair.

“Hey girls?” she called down the hallway. “Could you come out here for a moment?”

“Yeah! Coming!”

A few moments passed and the three Crusaders emerged once more, and upon seeing the three of them, Haubitze loosed a fond smirk of his own.

“What’s up, Schnee?” Scootaloo asked as they congregated in front of her.

The Flower Mare gestured to the couch where they were once sitting.

“Dad would like to say something to the three of you.”

Sweetie Belle flicked her gaze between Haubitze and the empty couch, but figured there was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t like they were ransacking Schnee’s room, after all…

“Sure!”

The three fell into quick step and took their seats once more.

Once they were nestled properly, Schnee also took her seat back, facing them, and Haubitze, curiously, got up from his.

With a purpose and an airiness in his steps, he strolled over to one of the many bookcases that lined the walls of the Herbstlicht household living room. Upon one of the ebony wooden shelves was a single, innocuous-looking wooden box.

The patriarch swiped the box from the shelf and brought it back to the coffee table where he silently lay it atop with a gentility one might show an infant.

“You three…” he suddenly addressed in heavily accented, borderline broken Equestrian, which shared the same language as Anglomaneia.

And that certainly got their attention, as well as colored Schneeblume most interested.

“I…” he began after opening the mystery box. “...I do not believe I heard your names properly?”

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle questioned, then it registered. “Oh… oh! Right, I’m Sweetie Belle!”

“Apple Bloom, sir!”

“And I’m Scootaloo.”

Once brief introduction was over with, Haubitze smirked.

“Beautiful names… Beautiful names,” he repeated as he dug through his little chest, attempting to find one very specific thing he was looking for.

“But…” he began anew. “I w-wanted… to thank you three personally.”

Apple Bloom was most curious.

“Fer what, sir?”

Right then, Haubitze found what he was looking for. The light that reflected off of the golden structure glinted off of his emerald eyes. He scooped up what appeared to be a seven-pointed star medal, made entirely of gold with a bright, engraved emerald in the center.

Schneeblume’s jaw hit the floor when her eyes lit up with utmost familiarity.

“Papa what’re you doing? Do you need me to translate?” she inquired on his actions.

He merely waved her off with a smile. He had this.

“This… m-medal. Here,” he showed everypony in the room, and let the star hang from its sash.

Haubitze then trot over to the Crusaders as he eyed his award nostalgically.

“This was given zu mir—ehm, to me when I served im mein… my kr—ach…”

Only partially defeated despite his valiant struggle with a non-native language he had very little experience with, he reluctantly turned back to his daughter:

“Wie sagt Pony ‘Krieg’ auf Änglisch?”

Schneeblume replied:

“War.”

He nodded in thanks.

“...in my war. Dies—This medal was for b-bravery und ext… ext…”

“Extraordinary…” Schnee helped him.

“...extraordinary acts b-beyond duty to country,” he finished.

All three Crusaders listened raptly whilst their eyes lay on the medal, unsure of his intents.

“Y-You three have been amazing friends to Schneeblume here… but m-more than that, y-you three have gone beyond the duty of bravery und friendship…

“...and brought my daughter back to me. From the dead.”

Despite Schee’s hoof against her lips, she couldn’t stem the tide of a fresh wave of tears.

“This medal is yours now… und ich—I am eternally grateful, as ein father…”

And with great pride in his eyes, he handed the three of them the medal. Out of respect for the offer, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom—eyes wider than they had ever been—took the medal in their combined hooves together to inspect.

It was gorgeous. Brilliant. Beautiful. And though all three of them felt honor well up inside them to the point where they would likely burst, another one was equally fighting for dominance in their hearts should they have decided to accept it right then: guilt.

“Sir… we can’t… this is priceless,” Sweetie Belle offered resistance immediately. This was too much for a simple act of friendship.

Haubitze stifled any talk with a single raise of his hoof.

“Nein…” he shook his head with a prideful smile. “You three are w-worthy of this more than I ever was, or ever will be…

“Also, as a token of mein gratitude. You three have helped me as well, more than you know.”


[A Few Years Later…]


“And thus concludes the exchanging of the vows of one of the most unique weddings I have ever had the honor of officiating...” a visibly ecstatic Princess Luna’s voice loomed from behind her podium over the enormous procession in Ponyville’s lush, green fields just outside the town proper.

Everypony who was invited had come in their most formal attires that they possessed, and there was nary a frown to be seen in the sea of ponies sitting amongst the wind whipped locks of the grass.

However, most curiously, two ponies in particular forwent appropriate attire for the occasion.

Namely, one Alemaneian mare and one Anglomane stallion, with the former garbed in her neatly washed and pressed Stormtrooper’s uniform, and the latter clad in his equally spotless fusilier’s uniform. Both helmets were shined to perfection and repainted with the traditional colors, and they both glinted in the bright spring morning.

They were the bride and groom.

Schneeblume’s mane flowed beautifully down and under the back of her sloped helm, and interwoven throughout its entirety were little blue flowers of her choosing. Her face was dolled up with extra makeup, eyeliner, and just a hint of blush that made her feel like one of the luckiest and most beautiful mares in all of Equestria.

As if she wasn’t beautiful or something.

But that artificial blush did little to hide her natural one every time she glanced over at Tea Leaf, who would return her smile with the utmost spark of love in his eyes… eyes that were no longer so hollow with the horrors of Equidae.

After years of finally acquiescing to their feelings, he still managed to get her ‘warm under the helmet,’ as their endearing expressions came to be.

Schneeblume glanced to her right, and found her three mares of honor: Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo.

All three were dolled up in their own ways, though with matching lavender dresses that matched the bride’s eyes to perfection.

Schnee tossed a glance backward and found who she was looking for right in the front row of the procession:

Haubitze Herbstlicht, dressed up in his ceremonial blue Alemaneian Confederation uniform, sat stary-eyed and proud. Unbelievably, ever since they were reunited, he seemed to reverse his aging, and looked younger than before! His sullen, sunken posture was completely eradicated.

He met Schnee’s gaze with a profound nod. She had done well, in his eyes.

And in that momentary glimpse, Schneeblume was able to see the crowd that had gathered. Other than all of her friends (which was most of Ponyville anyway), the remainder was filled in by veterans from Equidae… veterans of all nations.

“...and thus forth, by all power vested within me,” Luna continued, pausing for dramatic effect.

“I now pronounce you both… husband and wife!”

Tea Leaf and Schneeblume turned their uniformed bodies excitedly to one another, painful smiles spanning their faces.

“You may kiss the bride!”

This was the moment that the two were waiting for. The final, single act that would solidify their union and symbolize not just the love they had for one another… but symbolize a healing rift between once-bitter enemy nations.

And as they leaned into each other and prepared to meet their lips in a kiss that would mean so much, Schneeblume couldn’t wait to see what awaited them for the—

*CLUNK!*

Their advance was stopped cold when Tea Leaf’s wide-brimmed helmet smacked squarely into the ‘forehead’ of Schnee’s helmet. Both sets of eyes went wide and they both jumped, startled. The act, however, was completely noticed by everypony in attendance and earned them jovial laughter and applause.

Bride and groom had to control themselves lest they, too, began rolling on the floor at the ridiculous display. Not even Princess Luna was immune, and she had to retain some level of dignity with a hoof over her muzzle.

Schneeblume playfully rolled her eyes.

“Such an inefficient helmet design… when will you Angies ever learn, hmm?” she stated so pointedly, then fluttered her eyelashes.

Tea Leaf was never given a chance to rebut with banter of his own as Schnee placed her right hoof behind his neck with a devious smile.

“Allow me…” she boldly declared, then tilted his helmet back, which allowed her to smash her lips against his.

The entire reception erupted in deafening applause, in which the Crusaders and Haubitze gladly took part.

And as Schneeblume separated from her husband and looked upon the sea of ponies cheering her and Tea Leaf on, she reflected upon her life up to this moment with a prideful, excited, shining smile on her mug.

It had been twelve years since she marched to war. It had been eight years since it ended and became the shell of the pony she once left as.

Through no easy feats with the help of the Crusaders—who had flocked to her side once the kiss had been final—she had managed to claw her way back from the depths of hell, and return not just as a wounded pony… not even just as a better and stronger pony…

...she rose up and stood proud. She stood tall and mighty as an Alemaneian veteran that was a new pony altogether.

Equidae claimed many lives, and claimed much more than many were willing to admit to anypony, but Schneeblume knew now that it did not have to claim her, or anypony who lived.

Her past defined her in many respects, but Schneeblume was no longer content in letting it control her.

In one sense, her life did end. Not during the War… but during her time in Ponyville in the company of amazing friends she felt blessed every day to have met.

And that was okay.

Because for the Flower Mare, a new life had already bloomed. A life of reflection of the realities of the past and how it affected her. A life of love from the friends she made, as well as her new husband.

And ultimately, a life of peace.



THE END

Series Epilogue: To Whom it may Concern

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The War would fade into obscurity... out of the minds of the ponies who were in no way affected by it. This I expected. Instead of an event we can reference as an experience, it will be relegated to textbooks for schools.

Artifacts that held sentimental value for those who partook will slowly be claimed by museums and personal collectors.

Stories of grand heroism and sacrifice for noble virtues will be looked upon academically, rather than as a medium for expression.

It is only natural with the passage of time... that our hardships in what we hoped were our parts in making the world a better place, will be swept aside by the trotting-in of the newer generations. And eventually, although we are quite numerous, the last of us... our kind... will be laid to rest.

It's the case with all wars, isn't it? So easily are the lessons forgotten, that... perhaps not the next, but the generation after... will take up arms again for such perceived, 'noble' virtues. They are the products of forgotten teachings. Teachings inscribed in our blood on the stones of our graves.

But, three young mares showed me that the future was not as set as I'd have thought. Though we lost everything, we can truly be, in a sense, immortal.

The fields of the Seele Plains will regrow to their former majesty, obscuring and reclaiming the rusted metal and abandoned artillery cannons.

The poisoned lakes of the 'Fair Dunes' Forest will purify again, and the remnants of the '21 Days of Gas' will be properly cleansed.

The ice of The Windigo Valley will crystallize over the wounds in the earth, inflicted by our incessant barrages.

Those who perished during the War... during all wars, would be returned to the earth from whence they were birthed, and seed new life where so much of it was taken.

We, as the ponies who lived, don't get the luxury of rebirth.

However...

With the help of three ponies in particular... Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, I truly believe we can finally achieve what we all want in this world.

Perhaps I'm idealistic. Perhaps, having come back from the throes of death and my own war-induced insanity, I place my hopes too much in the next generation. Perhaps I'm one of only a few anomalies.

But with the help of these three, beautiful, amazing young mares... they've shown me that, perhaps there is something to hope for.

Our voices can finally speak.

Our stories can finally be heard.

Our tears can finally be dried.

And as soldiers, we need not hang our heads in shame or sorrow... but we can finally hold our heads high. We can be that shining beacon that calls to those who still suffer in silence that they, too, can find solace what I firmly believe is not impossible:

We will be remembered!

Our sacrifices weren't for naught!

And that beacon of light calls even to you.

So long had I wanted to hate you... but I could never bring myself to pass my own guilt upon another. Like myself and my comrades in arms, you have your own stories. Different for certain, yet stories that I cannot imagine from a perspective I cannot wield.

You may not think it. Others may refuse to believe it. But you matter as much as any of us in this. I can only hope that you have found some modicum of what you are looking for... wherever you may wander now. And I can only hope this finds you based on the credible tip I received of your whereabouts.

My story has been told. And now, my question to you, like so many others who were touched by Equidae, is:

"What's your story?"

So... Regenfall,

I write to you.