> The Black Baron > by Dimitri2278 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A Second Chance > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mosin's POV Major-General Sergei Mosin lay in his bed in his arms plant in Sestroretsk, feeling as though his lungs would give at any moment. His breaths were slow and heavy as he tried to cling to his life. In his hand, he gripped his prize to fame, his very own Mosin Nagant Rifle. "I *cough* hope you serve the Tsar *cough* well..." His hand went limp, and the rifle clattered to the floor. Markov's POV Lieutenant-General Sergey Markov sat on a mat in a medical tent near Salsk. His hand clenched to the wound in his chest that he had suffered a few days before. While in the other, he clutched tightly to his crucifix. As nurses attempted to tend to him, and priests prayed for healing. But, he knew it was all in vain, as the pain had only gotten worse. And now, he could feel his world going dark around him as the voices became muffled and seemed to create a single noise. May God save Russia... Then, his hands went limp. Drozdovsky's POV Major-General Mikhail Drozdovsky sat in a tent near Rostov-on-Don in severe pain. As a wound, he had received three months ago began to spring up again. And he found that it was the same one he had thought had only been minor. I knew it was only a matter of time, and I knew I was dooming myself. But how could I live with my nation in the hands of its destroyers... His vision faded, and he went into shock. Bochkareva's POV Maria Bochkareva sat on her knees before a Cheka firing squad in Krasnoyarsk as a young boy stood off to the side wearing a red armband and holding a piece of paper. "Maria Bochkareva, you are found guilty of Crimes Against The Working Class. And, you are sentenced to death by firing squad," He read as the soldiers took their aim. Then, she stared up at them in defiance. "GOD SAVE RUSS-" She yelled as their rifles went off, and her world went black in an instant. Wrangel's POV Pyotr Wrangel sat at his dinner table in his house in Brussel's. An empty glass of wine in front of him as he sat back and reflected on the collapse of his beloved nation. And his longing to return to his homeland at the head of an army of patriots and loyalists burned in his chest- No, he could feel his chest burning. "Ugh, wha-?" He slurred as he slumped forward, and his world went dark. Amore VI's POV Emperor Amore VI sat perched on his throne as two of his chief captains explained the various possibilities for an offensive. "Well, I think it would be best if we dealt with the feral yaks first," Began a white-coated Stallion in gold-laced crystal armour with a blue mane as he pointed to the Yak tribes on the map. "As they keep making excuses about letting criminals ransack our villages!" He bellowed as he stomped a hoof. "Pff, please, Blueglass, you're just mad because you own most of the villages beneath the mountains," Said a blue-coated stallion who was also in armour but with a gold mane. As he pointed to the diamond dogs. "Rather, I think we should settle things with the pesky hounds who steal our gems," He stated with a wave of his hoof. "That way, we can use those gems to pay for our-" He was cut-off as the three of them turned to see a crimson-coated Stallion with a grey mane enter the room. "Oh, it's you. Late again, I see," The newcomer simply scowled at him before turning to Amore and bowing. "Your highness," He began in a deep bass voice as he stood back up. "I believe I have something for you," He said as Amore regarded him with a cocked brow, to which he smiled and began walking towards the map table. "For you see, my spies have found some interesting information," Amore seemed to be getting more and more impatient as he went on. "I already told you, Stallion. Stop your mind games and spit it out already!" He ordered to which Stallion simply chuckled slightly. "Well, my lord, it would appear the pegasi are no more," He stated as the others looked on in shock. "H-how can that be!?" Sputtered the blue Stallion from before. "They can't have been beaten so easily!" Then, Blueglass put a hoof to his chin. "While I don't usually agree with Broad Sword. I can't believe it myself. I mean the pegasi? The very ones who murdered our great Emperor and gutted our lands!" He bellowed as he pointed a hoof at Stallion. "Or, are you lying-" He stopped as Amore cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. "I think that is quite enough!" He began as he stood from his throne and stepped down. "Now, if this is indeed true. Then we shall assemble an army immediately!" He ordered in an authoritative tone, which caused Stallion to grin wickedly as the other two looked on in collective shock. "My liege, you can't be ser-" Broad Sword stopped as Amore glared at him and lowered his head in resignation. "If that is your wish, your highness," Amore continued to glare at him. "See that it is done," He seethed before pointing a hoof to the door. "Now get out!" He yelled as Broad Sword bowed again before galloping out of the room. Once he was gone, Amore was about to order Blueglass to do the same but stopped when Stallion cleared his throat. "But, perhaps we should also deal with the yaks first. Lest the feral tribes get any ideas," He said as Blueglass trotted forward. "Indeed, you see, the raids have gotten worse recently. So, if you gave us the power to mobilize-" Amore cleared his throat, casing Blueglass to stop. Once he had, Amore walked in front of them before turning. "Well, I certainly agree, but who would lead this 2nd army?" He asked as both stallions turned to each other and nodded. "Why, your daughter, of course," Began Stallion with a grin. "After all, what better way to test her in the ways of leadership?" Well, what better way to rid me of that nuisance? Amore then grinned wickedly before recomposing himself. "Very well, Joseph, Blueglass, you have my blessing," He said as both stallions bowed and exited the room. Now, I have a war to plan. Crystal Blossom's POV She stood in an open field that been recently plundered. Trying desperately to find anything to eat. As she looked around, she saw nothing but a few rotting stems, all that remained of the wheat that only a few days prior had been ready to harvest. "I'm so hungry," She said weakly to herself before looking back at the smoke rising out of the burnt-out ruins of her village, which seemed to reach out and try to touch the mountain peaks that surrounded it. "Curse the yaks," She silently began to sob as she turned and began to walk towards it. As she did, she saw many of her fellow villagers helping to put out the fires and bury the dead. But, as she walked, she could feel her legs become heavy, and soon her legs gave out entirely. "Please, help me," She silently prayed as she sat there. "Whatever or whoever is out there. Please help us," She then curled up and fell asleep from exhaustion. But, unknown to her, a few hundred meters away, five flashes of white flashed into existence, leaving five very confused ponies in their place, seeming to have answered her prayer. > New Arrivals > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wrangel's POV Wrangel slowly opened his eyes and looked around, noting that the sun was going down over the mountains around him. "This isn't my house," He said aloud, as he began to notice that this didn't even look like anywhere he had even been before. "It's so...dark? And-" He stopped as he looked down and saw two off-white hooves. "Where are my hands!?" He yelled in shock as he tried to stand up, only to fall on his back and see two more. I am...a horse? Or a pony- Then, as he tried to stand again, he spotted a feathered wing the same colour of his coat on his side. Or a...Pegasus? As he focused more on the wing, he realized he could move it like an extra arm. "This feels...strangely natural," He said as he continued to move it and its twin on the other side. "Maybe I can-" He stopped as he heard what sounded like hoofbeats beside him. And he turned to see a yellow pegasus with a white and black mane (and beard?) wearing what appeared to be an old Imperial Russian General's uniform. What am I looking at, the old Tsarist flag? However, even from that distance, he could tell he was about a head taller. Well, at least that stayed the same. "Кто ты?" (Who are you) Asked the yellow pony in Russian with expression. Pyotr quickly shook off his stupor and cleared his throat to recompose himself. "I am Pyotr Nikolayevich Wrangel," He stated with authority. "Now, who are you?" The other pony stood up straight and gestured to himself with a hoof. "I am Major-General Sergei Ivanovich Mosin," He said in a similar tone as Pyotr's jaw went slack. But once again, he quickly recomposed himself. "Wait, as in, the inventor of the Mosin Nagant Rifle?" He asked in a questioning tone. Mosin puffed up his chest and tried to stand on his hind hooves. "The one and on-ly!" He said as he lost his balance and fell forward. Wait...WHAT!? Wrangel then pointed at Mosin as his expression became fearful. "B-But you died. In 1902 you died," He stated as he recoiled from him. Wait, maybe I'm in heaven, but...how did I die? He paused as he turned his thoughts to what he was doing before... And his eyes widened as he remembered the burning in his chest after he had drunk his wine. I must have been poisoned! "But that means... Where and what are we?" Mosin had gotten off the ground and dusted off his uniform. "I have no idea," He said with a shrug as he looked around. "Although, wherever we are, it's beautiful," Wrangel then took a deep breath, and he found the air to be the cleanest- Wait, what's that? He then sniffed again and found the smell to be familiar. "Is that smoke?" He asked as he turned his head and saw smoke rising in the distance. "What is-" He then stopped as he heard more hoofsteps, and he turned to see two more pegasi. The first had a red coat, white mane (and a small mustache) with a visor cap covering most of it. While wearing small, round glasses and a general's uniform... That had the tri-colour chevron of the volunteer army on its left sleeve, along with the Order of St. George, a belt, and sabre. Wait, is that...Drozdovsky? The second had a pure, white coat, a black mane (a large mustache and a chin beard) with a similar cap, no chevron, the same medal, a belt, a sabre, and two white dress lanyards. And Markov? How come I'm the only one without a uniform!? Maybe it's because I died when I was no longer a soldier? "General Markov? General Drozdovsky?" He asked as their eyes widened, and Mosin looked at him with curiosity. "General Wrangel!?" They both shouted as they shook away their initial shock and came closer. "Wait, you're all Generals too!?" Asked Mosin as they all turned to look at him. Wrangel frowned solemnly in response. "Well, I was..." He said as Markov and Drozdovsky took off their caps and lowered their heads somberly in understanding. Mosin, on the other hand, had his brow cocked in confusion as he turned to Wrangel. "What do you mean you were? Were you sacked?" Drozdovsky then placed the cap back on before turning to Mosin. "And, you are?" Mosin straightened himself, turned, and cleared his throat. "I am Major-General Sergei Ivanovich Mosin. And who are you two?" He asked as Drozdovsky and Markov seemed puzzled before Drozdovsky sighed, and Markov shook his head. Drozdovsky then recomposed himself. "I am Major-General Mikhail Gordeevich Drozdovsky. And it is a pleasure to meet you," He said as he extended a hoof, which Mosin shook. After which, he stepped aside and allowed Markov to extended his own hoof. "And I am Lieutenant-General Sergey Leonidovich Markov," He said as Mosin shook it before turning back to Wrangel. "Now, will you answer my question?" He asked him with a cocked brow. Wrangel then sighed. "I knew I would have to tell you at some point... But, the Russian Empire is no more," He said solemnly as Mosin's eyes widened in shock. "W-What do you mean, how is that possible!?" He shouted at him as he began to sob. Then, suddenly, he jumped at Wrangel and pinned him. "How could this happen!?" He shouted as Markov and Drozdovsky pryed him off. Wrangel then stood back up and dusted himself off as Mosin glared at him with tear-filled eyes. "The Socialists overthrew and murdered the Tsar and started a civil war against his supporters," He stated as he stepped closer to Mosin, who now bore a look of solemn understanding. "And we were among said supporters," After he was finished, Mosin suddenly broke free and rushed at Wrangel... Only to embrace him. "I-I am sorry, Pyotr Nikolayevich, I-I-" He continued to sob as Wrangel tried to comfort him. I could only imagine if I was in his position... Wrangel then broke the embrace and looked Mosin in the eye. "I know this is hard to take. But we need to mo-" "Ugh, curse these stupid hooves!" They heard a feminine voice bellow out. And they turned to see a navy-blue pony with an indigo mane stumble out of a bush to their left. But, what stuck out to them, was that the pony's coat and eyes shimmered like crystal. Well, at least I'm not the only one now. "And what are you staring at?" She asked in a deadpan tone as she turned to them with a cocked brow. Wrangel cleared his throat and turned his body to her, letting go of Mosin in the process. "I am Pyotr Nikolayevich Wrangel," He began as he pointed to the others, introducing them one by one. "Now, who might you be?" She then stood at attention. "I am Maria Leontievna Bochkareva," She stated as Wrangel put a hoof to his chin. I believe her name sounds familiar... Wait, I remember! Wrangel turned back to her. "Wait, aren't you the woman who partitioned the Tsar to join the army?" He asked to which she nodded. Mosin, upon hearing this cocked his brow at her. "You...joined the army?" He asked as he began laughing. "No wonder the Empire fell if it had to be defended by a woman!" However, none of the others seemed amused. Markov stepped forward and put a hoof on her withers, much to her annoyance. "Well, from what I heard from my friend, General Kornilov, Miss Bochkareva was not only a loyal supporter of the Tsar. But, she is most likely braver than some of the men formerly under my command," He stated, which seemed to silence Mosin, and Bochkareva to look at him in surprise. "And, in 1917, when most of the soldiers at the front had lost their fighting spirit. She led a few hundred women in an attack on the enemy lines and broke through, losing a third or half of the battalion. Which was known as The 1st Women's Battalion of Death," Once he had finished, both Bochkareva's and Mosin's jaws hung slack. "What?" Mosin was the first to regain his composure. "Well now, that does sound impressive," He said as Bochkareva shook her head before turning to Markov. "Now look, I never said I sup-" Markov then put his hoof over her muzzle before she could finish. And then began laughing awkwardly as Wrangel and Mosin of them looked on in confusion. Drozdovsky, however, seemed to understand. Markov's POV "I am sorry, but I would like to have a word with Miss Bochkareva," He said as the others still looked confused. "Alone," The others then nodded as she glanced up at him in anger. And he took her aside until they were out of earshot. "What was that?" He asked as he let go of her. "Why did you lie? I never said I supported the Tsar," She said as she sat on her flank, crossed her forelegs, and glared at him. He then sighed before looking back at her. "I had to," "And why is that?" She asked as she cocked a brow. He then got closer to her and gestured to the others. "Because not a moment before you had shown yourself. Mosin had Wrangel pinned to the ground once he told him that the Empire had fallen," He explained as her eyes widened in shock before gesturing to himself. "And, while I may have known others that initially supported the revolution. I, Drozdovsky, Wrangel, and Mosin are Monarchists. So please, don't say such things in front of the others?" He looked at her with pleading eyes. I know that she's a peasant, but I hope that she can at least keep her mouth shut! After all, we must stick together! She then mumbled before sighing. "Fine, I'll try," She grumbled as she stood back up. Markov shook his head. "I will accept that. Alright, now let's get back to the others," He said as they began walking back towards them. Drozdovsky's POV Once they were all back together, Wrangel had suggested they head northeast, as he had seen smoke earlier, and the rest of the group agreed. And, as they crested a hill, a familiar sight greeted them... A brunt-out village with empty fields. Well, this is certainly not heaven. Drozdovsky thought to himself, as he and Markov shared looks of worry with each other, before nodding and galloping ahead of the group. Casing the others to give chase. As he ran, he scanned the area for any signs of life...and found his eyes lying on an amethyst-coated pony with long emerald green and blue mane. And, as soon as he saw it lying there, he decided it was a good idea to approach it slowly, allowing the others to catch up with them. "What do you think your-" Started Wrangel before stopping as Drozdovsky and Markov gestured towards the pony. And he and the others walked until they were all standing around the pony. Then, he realized that she (he presumed it was a she, as it appeared curvier, smaller in stature, and had a longer mane and tail than he and the other...stallions?) Instead of resting as he thought before, she was unconscious. "Well, who's going to wake her up?" Asked Markov as the others put a hoof to their chins. "Maybe I should do it?" Asked Bochkareva as she picked up a broken stem, but the others all gave her a glare that said: Don't you dare! "Fine," She said as she dropped it, sat on her flank, and crossed her forelegs while turning away. Drozdovsky then turned back to the pony. And, began to find her to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Maybe... "I'll do it," Drozdovsky said as he stepped forward, and, before any of the others could react, he shook her awake. "Are you alright?" He asked as she stood up in a daze. But, as soon as she opened her eyes, she began to panic. "E-E-EQUESTRIANS!"