Will of Steel by Clarissa

 

>*THWACK*

>The late afternoon sun beats down on the glistening muscles of your back

>*THWACK*

>Sweat, born from a long day of toil, sparkles on your torso and pours from your face

>*THWACK*

>You can feel a stitch coming on in your side, and every muscle in your body burns as only hard work can make them

>*THWACK*

>The rhythmic shudder of the strike shakes you once more, and you pause to take a look at your progress

>You wipe the sweat from your eyes and size up the depth of your cut

>Good, but you still had quite a way to go

>Applewood was tougher than most, and this tree was one of the oldest in the orchard

>Never mind that you had been working on trees like this all day and your axe was probably in dire need of sharpening

>You're lucky the head hasn't come loose yet

>Your gaze returns to the trunk of the tree

>It was about time to start on the back cut, and after that just a little more before you were finished

>You heft the axe, its familiar balance drawing you back in time, through the fog of memories that grew clearer as you thought of everything

>”Anon, just what in tarnation do y'all think you're doing slackin' off? The day ain't done yet!”

>The shout snaps your from your moment of relaxation

>An orange coated mare with a wide cowboy hat storms up to you, her muzzle fixed in a sneer

>”Consarnit, I've put up with enough of your dang restin'. Either keep up or I'm sendin' ya back to Twilight to be 'conditioned' again.”

>You let out a tired huff, but return to felling the tree without any comment

>You knew better at this point

>The mare, Applejack of course, nods firmly and trots off to continue her own work

>You let your anger fuel your swings, working through the ache that you could feel all through your body

>Even after nearly a year of this sort of treatment, it was still galling to you

>You are Anonymous, a slave in all but official paperwork

>Officially, you were an indentured menial servant, working to pay off the reparations Equestria had demanded in return for their gracious cessation of hostilities with Earth

>'Gracious', what a joke

>Half of Central Europe was now a massive demilitarized zone, most of the cities in it turned to dust

>The ruinous tear between worlds had only been responsible for a small bit of that devastation mind you

>The rest had been collaboration between ponies and gryphons and who knows what else

>Of course, on this side of things the portal had just been a mere curiousity that appeared in the Gryphon Lands, doing no damage besides some ecological changes

>But then a group of scientists finally got the clearance to go through the time-space anomaly or 'The Danube Rift' as it had come to be known

>One stumbled back through it a week later, covered in blood and things best left unspoken

>His report was what had finally stirred the governments into action

>And so you were sent through, a full platoon of Pathfinders from a dozen nations, armed to the teeth and ordered into a reconnaissance in force

>In other words, establish a bridgehead, pick a fight

>A long groan from the wood of the tree pulls you from the reverie you found yourself in

>The old apple tree had started to lean a fair bit, but needed just a bit more encouragement

>You heft the axe and turn it about

>Then, with a final mighty heave, you smash the blunt side of the head into the boughs of the once mighty tree

>It makes a colossal noise as it falls to the ground, shaking the earth as it lands

>You stand still for a moment, just breathing deeply and staring at the fallen giant before you

>There's still work to do, cutting the limbs, debarking, maybe even cutting it into more manageable sizes to move

>But for now you take a seat, simply basking in the last rays of the sun, now setting on the horizon

>Even though there was still some work to be done with the tree, you decide you need the rest more than those tasks needed to be finished

>Besides, there was still house chores to be completed before you could even turn in for the night

>”Anon! Get yer butt inside before I give yer dinner to Winona!”

>The holler makes you come alert once again and you begin walking back to the farmhouse as ordered

>After all, Applejack was the element of Honesty, she meant what she said

>And you couldn't afford to go without food with all the work to be done

>Because if you couldn't do your work...

>You shake your head, pausing in the door frame and drawing a deep breath

>Shouldn't think about it, you may lose your appetite, which means no energy for the morning, which means...

>You give yourself a more violent shake, pushing away those thoughts and joining the rest of the Apple family at the dinner table

>With the four of you seated, you begin eating without saying a word

>Light conversation carries on between the three Apples, but they ignore you just as you do to them

>It may have seemed impolite, but it was the simplest way for them to get around the human sitting at their table, and for you to keep your mouth shut

>But even then, it's only Applejack and her little sister talking

>Their grandmother, grandmare, just stares at you

>Just like every night

>She eats a little then spends every dinner time, or any other meal really, staring at you silently

>Of course, you simply ignored it and kept eating, but it had begun to wear on you

>Still, you hold your tongue and carry on as you have

>Manual labour was a fine outlet for any aggression or ill will you held towards the ponies at least

>Besides, you didn't really want to hurt them, they had their orders just like you did

>It doesn't take long for you to finish, and after you do you sit silently with your head down, waiting for the Apples to finish as well

>When they do, you waste no time clearing their dishes and bringing them into the kitchen and plopping them in the sink

>You wash and dry the dishes as Applebloom comes over to stand beside you

>>”Ya know y'all can talk to us, right Anon? We know ya ain't a mute, so why don't ya just talk already?”

>Just like every night

>And just as you had before, you remain silent and continue washing up

>Applebloom smacks her hooves on the hardwood table and her brow knits with frustration

>”Consarnit, everythin' would just be easy if you'd just talk to us! We're supposed to have ya over to make ya understand ponies but y'all spend everyday workin' without sayin' a word in passin'!”

>”Applebloom!”

>Applejack's shout cows her sister and she comes over to pull the filly away

>After sending Applebloom up to her room, Applejack comes back and starts putting the dishes away in the cupboards

>You remain placid the entire time, intent on keeping your mouth shut

>Applejack heaves a loud sigh beside you

>”I'm real sorry about little 'Bloom, she just don't get it. An' I know y'all don't like it here an' frankly I don't want ya here any longer than I have to, but...Heck, I'm probably bein' a softie but the Solstice is in a couple days. I know it's a big time for ya human folk, so I'll give ya the day to do whatever. Gather with your kind an' whatnot.”

>You blink and your eyes widen in surprise, despite your desire to keep a totally neutral expression

>She finishes putting away the dishes and points you towards a broom and dustpan in the corner

>”Once your done, ya can sleep on the couch. It's supposed to be unseasonably cold and the barn would be awful chilly.”

>Without another word, she walks away and you hear her trotting up the steps

>You're left alone in the darkened house, finding yourself completely stunned

>Not to mention suspicious

>Applejack, though not a violent slave master, had a habit of working you to the bone and expecting your perfect compliance

>She'd had no qualms of sending you off to Twilight when you'd acted out, for 'reconditioning'

>The calender on the wall catches your eye, and you connect the dots pretty easily from there

>You continue to think as you sweep the corners of the house, quiet as you can

>Just what would you do with your first taste of real freedom in over a year?

–

>The next two days almost seem to last a lifetime

>Every ache seems to carry through the days, every night spent waking up a dozen times

>You couldn't wash away your thoughts with hard work, no matter how you tried to

>Memories of the war now passed, dozens of victories, a steady string of defeats, brothers in arms dead and dying, blood drying on your hands, face, legs

>Your old scars ached in sympathy with your body and thoughts, adding another level of discomfort

>A constant, tinny ringing echoed in your ears and half the time you hadn't responded to Applejack hadn't been willful

>You had been considering what you would do when you actually got to meet up with the few humans you knew were around here

>After all, you only actually knew two of them, the rest were people you didn't know and wouldn't get to know

>And what did Applejack even mean about the Solstice being 'important' to humans?

>It wasn't until you'd risen that morning that an explanation had dawned on you with the morning sun

>Tor, it had to be

>Before you had left for town, Applejack had warned you to be back before the dawn tomorrow and to expect a boatload of work to make up for the day

>You'd felt a pulse of pain through your shoulders, but had nodded when she finished

>And with that you were free

>Well free as you could be, stranded in an alien land and surrounded by creatures you'd once fought against

>It was a fair walk into town, and the sun had fully risen once you finally wandered among the thatched rooves of Ponyville

>You spend some time simply watching the bustle of the town, ponies going about their business, a few with humans in tow

>Your lips twitch at the sight, it still rubbed you the wrong way

>But you don't brood for long before a familiar giant makes his way over to you

>Torlund, the giant man in question, wears a broad smile on his thickly bearded face and holds his arms open wide to you

>”Anonymous, my friend, how long has it been?”

>A year, it's been a year since you'd actually seen him

>Longer since you'd talked

>The two of you share a tight embrace and he lets out a thunderous laugh, drawing a few wandering eyes

>He slaps your shoulder and steps back, his grin not faltering a bit

>”What's the matter, young man? Catbird got your tongue?”

>You smile at the joke, but shake your head slowly before rolling a sleeve of your ragged shirt and turning the belly of your arm to face him

>Or more importantly, the jagged, black runes writ on it

>He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, his smile shrinking into a tight line across his face

>”So you were serious about that, eh? No matter, you'll still be handy. Come on then, boy, we still have preparations to make!”

>He wraps a thick arm around your shoulders and practically drags you along with him, off to who knows where

>Tor had always been a strange fellow, even in the relatively short time you knew him

>A Norwegian Jaeger before, he had been in team sent along to establish the bridgehead in the Gryphon Empire

>He'd been the medic with the Norwegian contribution, and even they thought he was strange

>A devoted pagan, almost neurotically so

>His hands were adorned with twisting, eternal knots and runes that you hadn't been able to read

>Always chanting in a strange tongue, to his weapon, his medical supplies, to anyone who would stick around after a conversation played out

>You hadn't got along with him until...

>Tor's overly loud voice breaks the train of thought before it can carry on towards the fog of memory

>”So is that orange one still working you like a dog? You're so tense my friend, ought to come by the spa sometime!”

>That's right, Tor had somehow been selected for work at the local spa

>Apparently he had been a massage therapist before joining the military

>What a joke life was

>”Ah, but I suppose she wouldn't like you to be away from the farm too often. Just what did you have to do to get today anyhow?”

>He wiggles his eyebrows at you, suggestively

>You laugh and shrug your shoulders

>In all honesty, you're not truly sure why she gave you a day off, even with the promise of catch-up work

>You perk up when you notice you're leaving the town behind, and you give Tor a questioning look

>He shakes his head without answering, his face growing more serious as he stares at the rough path ahead

>The Everfree, he's taking you into the witch wood

>In a low, severe voice, he speaks up while you walk

>”You know, we still must keep our traditions alive here, Anonymous. Even as I did back home, so to must I here. But it's no longer my own soul I must watch, but all of you who stand as I do. It took a great deal of bargaining, badgering, begging to get this one day. These ponies, they don't think as we do, we're barbarians with shiny toys to them. You cannot imagine the lengths to which I went to ensure we would have at least a single day for us and ours.”

>Something in the tone of his voice sends goosebumps rising on your arms

>Sure, the ponies didn't treat you the best, but it was easy to understand why

>They probably would have been treated much the same, if they had not had living goddesses and literal magic on their side

>But clearly, Tor wasn't as accepting of the lot he'd been dealt

>Again, you could understand his aversion to essentially being a slave

>But he was a good man, more than evidenced by his efforts with this...whatever it was

>You had a feeling, a little flickering flame of excitement in your gut, about what it could be

>There were only so many things that happened on a Solstice, after all

>And only one really made sense for you, Tor, and the others

>Blót

–

>As the two of you continue to walk into the Everfree, Tor talks all the while

>The trees thicken as he talks about his job as a masseuse, meeting other humans around town, the general attitude of the ponies, and of course his new found devotion to his faith

>Sure, for the entire length of the war he had proselytized his fellow, successfully in your case not so successful in others

>But this was something new

>This was an almost fanatical level of faith

>Not to mention the near single-minded focus on 'keeping the human within alive' as he had put it

>It sounded dangerously close to sedition

>Even you had walked the thin line between resistance and outright rebellion, but you had been forcibly taught what happens when the line is crossed

>Still, you listen and humour him, no need to let him in on your qualms

>After the better part of an hour of wandering along a rough trail, Tor pushes aside a knot of hanging vines and gestures to the clearing beyond

>”My friend, welcome to the Hof.”

>A chill runs up your spine as you step into the clear grove

>Him calling it a 'temple' sat poorly in your stomach

>It was beautiful to be sure, sun shining from on high, the bright green grasses and colourful flowers, even the massive pile of timber sitting at the center of it all

>Wait, the what?

>You eyes linger at the middle of the grove, staring at the pile of logs easily taller than you or Tor were

>He notices your gaze and gives you a cheeky grin

>”Yes, nary do I sleep at all. All night, chopping wood for this little gathering.”

>You shoot him a sharp look and he lets out a bellowing laugh, slapping you on the shoulder

>”No, of course not. You see, I was simply wandering the woods on a day I had been given free, just me and Samuel. And we found this place! Of course, it was occupied by a beast, like everywhere in this witch forest. You should have seen in, Anon, a wolf made of wood, big as a damn bear it was!”

>You stare at him, not believing a word he's saying, but her hold a hand on his heart

>”I swear, no way would I have been able to do this all myself!”

>You stare at him a moment longer, then turn back to the pile of timber

>Eventually, you decide to believe him, after all you had seen things far stranger since the damn rift opened up

>A bear-sized wood-wolf didn't seem too out there when there were ponies that lifted the sun and moon

>As Tor wanders about the clearing, you take a seat and lean against the trunk of an ancient pine

>Where did it all go wrong?

>Was it when you had volunteered for the so-called 'reconnaissance' mission that had first led you to this world?

>Perhaps earlier, when you had tried and succeeded in your Pathfinder school

>That was one of your fondest memories, standing on parade after a week with near zero sleep in the field, having the torch badge pinned on your chest

>But things had slid from there, first Syria, then the Ukraine, and finally here

>Hell, you shouldn't have joined the army in the first place, maybe that was the mistake at the center of it all

>Sure, you'd be sitting on a farm in the middle of the middle of nowhere, but you wouldn't be a slave to technicolour ponies

>At least you weren't a gryphon slave

>You shudder at the thought of the poor guys sent to the catbird empire

>No real news, just rumours

>Forced labour, constant beatings, starvation, public execution

>Sure, the UN had complained about the treatment of their 'servile repayers', but the gryphons hadn't listened and the ponies had only sent a notice of concern to the gryphons

>So there was that

>Well, maybe your life wasn't too terrible, you ended up working on a farm despite your choices

>With a loud sigh, Tor sits beside you against the tree

>”Fate works in strange ways, eh friend?”

>You give him an odd look as he continues speaking, gesturing grandly

>”Look at this place, it's untouched by the hands of man. The vaettir in these woods have not seen the likes of us, but respond all the same.”

>He turns his head and grins at your questioning gaze

>”The ponies ignore them all the same, worship is a concept that is all new to them. And yet, we are not free men to worship as we please.”

>He rubs the bark of the tree you two share, and it groans as the wind blows thought its boughs

>Sometimes though, you wonder if it truly was just the wind that made the trees moan

>The two of you remain silent for a long while

>After a time, Tor breaks the silence once more, his tone gentle

>”Your vow doesn't stop you from using instruments, yes?”

>You look at him and nod, and he visibly relaxes before standing up

>”Good, come.”

>With too many unvoiced questions, you rise and follow after him

>He leads you to a great oak with a hollow in its trunk, rubbing the bark when he reaches it

>Without anymore delays, he reaches in and takes out a number of musical instruments, some familiar, others strange

>A few drums, a weird mushroom shaped bit of metal, an odd lyre, and...

>A tagelharpa?

>When and where did he find something like that around here

>Without warning, he tosses the harpa at you and you pluck it from the air with ease

>He smiles and continues to lay out the various instruments as he speaks

>”You play, don't you? I remember you saying that before this mess.”

>You did, but it does nothing to dull your surprise at him remembering that, never mind actually getting one in Equestria

>It wasn't specifically forbidden to have stuff like this, but he would have had to either smuggle it in or make it himself

>You look up at him again, he seems occupied in his own world with the instruments

>All this effort, gods only knew how much time and risk spent getting everything for it

>It's touching, but more than a bit disturbing as well

>Still, you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth

>You set the tagelharpa up on your knee, lay your fingers on the strings, pick up the bow, and gently drag it across

>It needs tuning

>You let out a quiet sigh and set about making the instrument sound at least marginally presentable

>At some point, Tor comes over and watches you as you work

>In an answer to the look you shoot him, he shrugs

>”I can do nothing but bang drums, it is interesting to see someone who can actually make music work.”

>Weird, but Tor had always been strange

>Satisfied with how the strings sound, you play the bow across them once more

>It all sounds tuned well enough, and you move into playing a little song that you enjoyed

>Tor taps his foot along with the upbeat sound, his grin growing as you play

>It's infectious, and you find yourself smiling along with him as you run your bow over the strings

>You move keenly from one song to the next, playing more energetically as you go along

>The day drags along, and in ones and twos, more people show up and watch you play

>You hardly notice, but eventually Tor claps his hands once, prompting you to silence

>Finally, you notice the small crowd that's gathered around

>You blush at the audience, but are awed by how many there were

>It may have only been fifteen or so, but that was more than half of the entire human population in Ponyville

>You hadn't been around this many in well over a year

>Not since being brought here, in fact

>Tor greets them all like old friends, hugging some, slapping backs, and shaking hands

>Samuel is among them, of course, and he makes a beeline to sit beside you

>”Anon! It's been way too damn long. That apple horse keeps you bloody busy tending to her orchards, eh?”

>A blush creeps on your cheeks and you shake your head at the implication

>He laughs and punches your shoulder before leaning against the tree trunk

>Samuel had been a member of the SAS that had come along with the expeditionary force, the oldest member by far

>Quick with a dirty joke, and just as quick with a rifle, he had been the real heart of everything in that troop

>And he too had fallen in with Tor after that first battle

>But he hadn't changed all that much for it

>He glances at your bare forearm and clicks his tongue

>”Ah, so you were serious about that. Explains the lack of a comeback, no matter though. You play that instrument well, lad. Good thing too, we'll need it tonight.”

>He looks pointedly back at Tor, who has finished socializing and claps his hands together, silencing the grove

>From the ground, he plucks a lit torch someone had brought in

>The grove has begun to darken as twilight comes on, and the fire casts and eerie light on his bearded face

>”Brothers, sisters, even though we waste under the hooves of our hosts, the fire in our hearts does not die. Tonight has been a long time coming, but at last we can shed the yoke of slavery and be free men and women again. And just what is it we have gathered together for?”

>As he tosses the torch to the base of the stacks of timber, setting a bonfire ablaze, the others shout with once voice as you do in your heart

>”BLÓT!”

–

>The silence after the shout does not last for much more than a few beats of your heart

>Tor begins chanting in a deep, gravely tone, his rhythmic intonations hypnotizing and having the feeling of a spell

>No, it doesn't have the feeling, it IS a spell

>Though you're not sure how, you can feel magic in the air around the grove

>And judging from how the others scramble to grab drums and the rest of the eclectic mix of instruments, they feel it too

>The drums begin to pound in time with Tor's chant, and you can't help but slap a hand on the soundboard of your tagelharpa along with them

>Even your heart pounds along to the beat of the drums

>The others begin to sing an echoing chorus in seeming response to Tor's vocalizations

>You very nearly break your silence and join in, but you can feel the runes on your wrist burning even as the words build in your throat

>You remain silent, but the music still bewitches you in a way you couldn't begin to tell one who had not felt it

>The grove itself seems to join in, the trees swaying along with the song, the fire cracking and popping in time with the drum beats

>The roar of the flames seemed itself to add another layer to the music

>Though you couldn't explain it, you knew exactly when to begin drawing your bow across the strings of the harpa, and exactly what to play

>A thick haze began to cloud your mind, the music fading to a muddy background of ethereal noise

>Dark fog seems to slither through the grass of the clearing, though none react to it

>Even you merely stare into the gathering wisp, the only response seeming to be the increased frantic pace of the music

>Even the massive fire seems to be subdued by the thick haze

>You open your eyes fully and find yourself standing behind James and Harry, in perfect position to cover them as they advance on the bluff you had seen movement behind

>Your heart thuds in your ears as they wave for you to push forward when they halt

>Without a noise, you rush the bluff and aim your rifle square in the face of the mountain goat that had wandered into your patrol

>You breathe a long sigh of relief and motion an all clear

>From the sparse trees and boulders lining the mountainside, the rest of the patrol emerges from their cover

>You, James, and Harry were just one small group among many in what was being called the Extraterrestrial Expeditionary Force

>Given how quickly the force had been thrown together, it was hardly surprising that you still formed into cliques

>Over there, the German Jaeger force, resting against the trees were a group of Spetsnaz from the Senezh group, and bringing up the rear were a pair of SAS members with Pathfinder training

>There were more that were establishing a temporary base, but even this small patrol between the various operators had nearly a hundred years of training all told

>The three of you from the Canadian contingent weren't near the most experienced, but the terrain was simply what you were best trained for

>So it fell to you three Pathfinders to take point

>You walk over to James and give him a rough smack on the shoulder

“All that fuss over a mountain goat, really man?”

>He laughs and slugs your plate carrier in return

>”Come on, big man, you could use the exercise.”

>Harry comes over and cuffs both of your ears

>”Save the horseplay for home, boys. We've still got to finish up this patrol before you two can tussle in the bedsheets.”

>You share a laugh and you take point once again, the others falling in behind you in a staggered line

>The route you're on carries you down the mountainside and into the heavily forested valley below

>Regular UAV flights had, for whatever reason, been unable to see beneath the thick canopy, both optical and infrared photos revealed nothing

>So it was your first destination

>It takes half the day to finally reach the valley floor, and to your great surprise, there's nothing special about it

>Nothing causing some kind of interference, no special properties in the trees, just a small river and the sounds of animals

>On the way back from the short mission, the usual griping about the relatively pointless mission crops up, but it's easy to hear that it's mere venting

>By the time you reach the camp, the sun has already fallen behind the cliffs

>The forest you're in is backlit by the eerie glow of the portal back home, even though it was miles away

>It certainly made sleeping difficult, but keeping watch was a bit easier with the extra light

>The camp has changed radically from when you had departed that morning

>Gone were the single man tents strung haphazardly between trees, and in there place stood a number of larger, 6 man tents

>Around the circumference of the camp, a shallow trench had been dug and a berm risen on the inside of it

>Piles of sandbags marked watch positions, the closest thing to proper cover besides the trees themselves

>A number of those trees had been felled and turns into firewood or obstacles at the single entrance to the camp proper

>A pair of Danes pull the barriers aside to let your troop pass through

>The rest of the patrol splits off from you, leaving James and Harry following you to the command post at the center of it all

>You push aside the flap and knock on a desk set off to the side

“Sir, patrol's back. Reporting as ordered.”

>The two men standing around a small table with various maps spread across it raise their eyes to meet yours, and one breaks into a smile

>”Ah, the canucks are back with their team, excellent. So do tell, what did you find in this mysterious valley that got command so riled up?”

>You shrug at the captain, holding out your open palms helplessly

“Found a lot of trees and a little river. A couple nice picnic spots too. Otherwise, there wasn't really too much down there.”

>The captain sighs and shakes his head at the news

>You clear your throat before continuing

“Well there is some local wildlife, mountain goats for the most part. No settlements spotted though, so we should be safe from whatever got the scientists.”

>That captain pinches the bridge of his nose, and his adjudant speaks up in his place

>”Gents, we're here to find the source of those attacks. The fact that we haven't means we'll need to move base again. As it is, we're uncomfortably far away from any chance of extracting to a safe zone, so going deeper isn't an outcome anybody wants.”

>You shrug, unsure of what exactly to say

>Fortunately, Harry steps up to speak instead

>”We understand, warrant officer. The problem is, whatever attacked them is long gone. Even the guys who have tracker skills haven't found anything on their route but paw prints. If we push further along the path that they travelled--”

>Harry cuts off as somebody slams into him from behind

>A breathless SAS trooper pushes his way into the tent, shoving past the three of you and slapping down a large sheet of paper on the table

>”Sir! New images from a drone overflight!”

>The trooper points at a section on the paper, and you peer over his shoulder as the captain's eyes widen

>You don't have a great view, but what you see chills your spine even as the captain starts shouting orders

>”Full alert, now! Get everyone on the line, loaded up. I want the mortar team ready to fire the second I tell them. Move!”

>Training takes over and, despite how tired you feel from the long patrol, you find yourself with boundless energy

>You run from the tent and throw yourself down, against the berm, looking out into the forest beyond

>Another body hits the little hill beside you, and you hear him curse in a language you don't recognize

>A few minutes with nothing but the sounds of the forest pass, then you hear a gruff voice speaking quietly beside you

>”A false alarm, eh? Ah, too bad, I looked forward to fighting.”

>You glance over and see a veritable mountain of a man, a dark, thick beard covering his face, and a Norwegian flag on his arm

>He looks over at you and gives you a toothy grin

>”Hey, you're one of those Canadians right? Heard you guys called in strikes for Telemark in the sandbox.”

>You blink, it takes a moment to figure out what he's talking about

>You finally recall, faintly, filling the FAC role during a mission in Afghanistan

>Maybe this guy had been part of a troop you had been working with

>He sticks out a hand, keeping the smile on his face as you shake it

>”I'm Torlund Alfsen, Norwegian FSK.”

>A loud crackle of branches pulls you away from any kind of reply, and you return to staring into the trees

>But there's nothing out there, save for the sound of a flock of birds fleeing the coming battle

>Damn, there must be a lot of birds out there to be making that kind of racket

>Weird too, considering you haven't heard a peep out of them

>An idle thought, really just recalling a single sentence from the briefing on what the scientists had been attacked by, makes your eyes wander upwards

>You feel your heart stop for a solid second

>There, beyond the leaves, a mass of black wings and bodies blotted out the night sky

>You poke Torlund and make a gesture to shush any reaction, then point up

>When he notices, his eyes become wide as dinner plates, glistening in the sickly light of the distant portal

>He rolls on his back as you have, aiming his rifle up but is disciplined enough not to fire

>They haven't seen you yet, you think, you hope

>That many, even with just sticks and stones, might be able to crush every last one of you under the weight of their bodies

>You hear whispers and the rustling of cloth as others around the perimeter do as you and Torlund have done

>The relative stillness of the moment is broken in an instant as a single shot from a rifle rings out through the clearing

>And then hell is unleashed upon you

–

>The creatures descend in a massive, black cloud of fury and violence

>All around you, the staccato cracks of rapid fire shots ring in the clearing, piercing through the relentless beating of wings

>Harsh cries, screams, shouts abound in the chaos, and you find yourself unloading magazine after magazine into the black mass

>But no end is in sight

>Soon it comes to your sidearm, something you had never fired in anger before

>Before long, it too has fired its last shot

>You shield your body with your hands as best you can, throwing your gaze about for something, anything you could fight with

>It feels like an eternity, but merely seconds later you find just what you need

>A woodcutting axe, laid up near a section of the berm reinforced with logs

>You throw wild punches to clear the air around you for just a moment and dive, grasping the wooden pommel of the axe

>With a wild shout of savagery, you begin to lay the blade about the crowded shapes around you

>They fall before your feet in droves, the vile creatures

>Here and there, you catch glimpses of your brothers in arms, fighting with whatever came to hand

>There, one with a bayonet, or another with a shovel

>No more shots rang out, there were only war cries, pained screams, the dull whack of weapons on flesh, and the crack of bone and splitting wood

>As the battle became more pitched, the thudding of your heart seemed almost as a war drum

>In your mind, you could hear a hazy string of words layering over one another in a hypnotic swell of incredible sound

>At a whisper in your ear, you whirl about just in time to catch one of the creatures flying at you

>A simply thing to dispatch with a violent swing of the cutting axe

>You can feel a warm spray on your face, and the sweat pouring from your brow

>Your lungs burn and your body aches, but still you fight on with your voice growing more hoarse with every savage roar

>How quick man was to become a monster

>The pitched battle soon came to resemble butchery more than fighting

>These monsters, though many in number, fell as easily to stick and blade as they did to bullets

>And so butcher you did, losing yourself to the song of the axe, the spray of blood, and the song of death

>But finally, mercifully, it ends

>You're left trembling, sweaty, and totally exhausted in a pile of corpses

>You're too tired to even feel disgusted and you fall to your knees as you breathe deep, greedy breaths

>The war drum of your heart continues to pound on, even with the fighting long over

>And so you kneel there, in the gore drenched grass, for an eternity

>The blood begins to congeal on your face and you begin to become aware of throbbing cuts across your body

>A cool wind blows through the battlefield, stinging your wounds and sending a chill up your spine

>You still can't find the energy to stand, settling instead for looking around the immediate area

>Immediately, you wish you hadn't

>Among the dark bodies of whatever it was that had attacked you, it's all to easy to pick out the men in lighter coloured fatigues

>And there are far too many of them

>You can feel tears well in your eyes when you spot them

>Two men, laying side by side in the same pattern of camouflage you wear

>You don't even need to see their flags to know it's James and Harry

>A flurry of emotions flash over you

>Fury that they had been killed, regret that you hadn't been alongside them fighting, sorrow at their passing

>But above it all, a burning, poisonous hatred of whatever had done this

>As you kneel, covered in drying blood, tears making tracks on your face, you make a vow

>There would be no quarter given to whatever it was that had killed them

>Suddenly, a hand lays itself on your forehead and pushes your gaze up

>You find yourself looking at Torlund, his own face covered in gore, his beard matted and eyes wild

>His voice comes in a dire whisper, holding reverence and kindness in equal measure

>”It's time, Anonymous.”

>You blink your eyes, confused by his words

>The glow of firelight behind him, there hadn't been a fire lit

>His face is clean, though covered in a sheen of sweat that makes the light dance about his forehead

>And then you snap back, to the grove, the ritual

>Yes, that was where you were

>Your fingers throb, and a look shows you a series of weeping welts

>That was right, you had been playing the tagelharpa along with Tor's song, his spell

>It was just a memory, that's it

>He helps you to your feet and you follow him to the slowly dying bonfire

>Everyone else is standing in a circle around it, but they make room for you and Tor to join them

>Tor joins them in the chant they've carried on while he had fetched you

>You simply wait, unable to join in despite your heart longing for it

>After a while, when the fire is dimming to embers, the chanting ceases and Tor begins to speak

>”Brothers, sisters, as the fire wanes, so too does our time together draw close to its end. Before we return to our servitude, we must bring this blót to a closing that will appease the gods. We have no livestock nor harvest to offer them, so instead we must each offer part of ourselves in tribute.”

>He draws a long, black iron knife and lays the edge of the blade on his wrist joint

>”As Odin sacrificed for his knowledge of the world and as he did for his learning of the runes, so must we sacrifice for our own gain. We sacrifice for health, for fertility, for freedom.”

>With that, he draws the knife easily over the skin

>He holds his wrist out, over the embers of the bonfire, and holds it there as he passes the knife to the next in the circle

>The woman who takes it from him mirrors his movements before passing it along

>As does the man beside her, and the man beside him, and so it carries around the fire till you hold it in your hand

>You lay the wet edge on your wrist and lick your lips, feeling sweat prickling your scalp

>A glance to your right tells you that Tor is watching you, and a look around reveals that everyone has their gazes locked on you as well

>You grit your teeth and hurriedly draw the knife over your wrist, wincing at the sudden pain

>As Tor and the others have done, you hold your wrist over the remains of the fire

>The moment the first drops of your blood touch the smouldering charcoal, a rush of blazing flame leaps from the center and dazzles you

>Tor immediately begins singing in at a frenetic pace and the others join in

>Another spell, you can feel the air around you humming with magic

>The fire itself seems to dance with the music, and your heart becomes a drumbeat in time with the magical sound

>Your wrist begins to itch fiercely, and it takes an immense amount of concentration to not dig your nails into it and make it stop

>After a long while, the chant ceases all at once

>The grove is plunged into darkness once again, though in the dim moonlight you see all that is left of the fire is merely scorched grass

>Everything else has vanished, all the logs and branches that had once stood tall seemingly vaporized

>Real magic, you shiver at the thought of it

>As the others leave the circle and sit down in ones and twos, you realize the throbbing from your wrist has all but vanished

>Turning it towards yourself, you brush against it gingerly, expecting a flare of pain

>But there's nothing there

>You feel nothing but a slight indentation of a scar, not even a scab over it

>You flex your wrist back and forth, letting the moonlight catch in the new found scar

>There was no sign, but for a thin line, that you had ever spilled your own blood in sacrifice

>A look around tells you only a few others are doing the same, most seeming to have taken the strange phenomena in stride

>Tor has already disappeared from the clearing, and the instruments with him

>You stare up at the moon, wondering at everything that had occurred that night

>The magic in the air, the dark fog that had brought you back to the first battle, the cutting and subsequent healing of your wrist

>You wonder if it was wise to come here

>Slowly, you shake the thoughts from your mind and begin to follow the winding game trail back from the Everfree to Ponyville

>You try to focus your thoughts on the day to come, on what chores you would need to do on the farm, on catching at least a few hours of sleep

>But your memories keep drawing you back, pressing against your mind, demanding your attention

>You don't indulge them, and after a while you find yourself back at Sweet Apple Acres

>As quiet as you can, you push open the front door and take off your shoes before tiptoeing into the living room

>Applejack is asleep in a lounge chair there, presumably waiting for you to return

>A small smile touches your face, and you take a blanket from the couch you had been sleeping on and drape it over her

>You're unsure what made you do that, she was your owner at this point

>Something about the way she looked reminded you...

>With a quick shake, you clear your mind

>No, no introspection tonight, it had been strange enough as it was

>Instead, you lay down on the couch and close your eyes

>A long day was still coming

--

>The next several months passed in a blur

>You'd be hard pressed to describe much of it, it all seemed lost in a slew of hard work and torturous memories

>The harvest came and went, working you to the bone

>But it was bountiful, even by Equestrian standards, and Applejack had been becoming more lenient with you

>Nothing grand such as petitioning the princess on your behalf, but little things like an extra helping at dinner, or not sending you for reconditioning if you were acting out a bit

>Of course you didn't abuse her sudden good will either, in fact you did your best to work harder to keep it going

>Though you still refused to speak, you still manned the selling booth with Applejack when the season came to sell her goods

>For the most part, you simply worked on delivering orders or carrying bushels of fruit home for ponies

>But in the down time, a few of your friends would come and talk

>Just meaningless small talk of course, no one mentioned that night nor anything that had happened since

>And here you were at the last market day before the snow fell, waiting for the last orders of apple preserves to be picked up

>It's been slow, which has left you cold despite the jacket that you had been issued

>It wasn't thick enough, you're sure, but it was what you had so you simply heaped layers on under it

>”Well, I'm gonna go see Twilight about some of them preservin' spells she was going on about. Y'all good to man the booth by yourself?”

>You give her a thumbs up and she smiles

>Yes, she certainly had been far more trusting as of late

>Just a few moments later, Samuel approaches the booth with a large grin on his face

>”Hey, Anonymous! How are you doing today?”

>You shrug and gesture at him and he leans on the counter

>”I'm alright thank you. I'm here to pick up an order for Roseluck, ten cases of preserves I believe.”

>Ah yes, he belonged to that botanist

>What strange skills so many of these soldiers had taken on aside from fighting

>Well, besides you of course

>You nod, but something about the way he is feels...off

>As you finish gathering the cases of apple preserves you look a bit closer at his smiling face

>Yes, something was indeed wrong with the way he spoke, it was far too proper and stiff

>His eyes told the entire story

>The pupils had a slightly ragged look to them, and his gaze was distant and empty

>Reconditioning

>Samuel had never been a troublemaker, so why had he been sent off?

>These troubling thoughts remain as you lay the cases out and count out his payment

>It was all there, of course, and Samuel takes the cases and says his goodbyes before leaving the market

>Even when Applejack returns, you continue to worry about what it meant that he had gone and been reconditioned

>He wasn't one to break under pressure, so you don't think he'd have revealed anything incriminating

>However, you had felt the effects of whatever magic that Twilight used

>Perhaps even he might break

>You can feel your nerves fray as the day goes on, but Applejack doesn't say a word as you finally begin to close up the stand

>The two of you take up opposite ends of the cart and begin the trip back to the farm

>It's a long and silent trip, the wind has picked up and cuts through your clothing

>Applejack leaves you to stow the cart in the barn, presumably to go help Applebloom with dinner

>The labour leaves you some time to think

>How would you avoid questions about what Twilight had surely told her?

>More importantly, how would you avoid going back to be reconditioned

>A shiver runs up your spine, but it has nothing to do with the steadily dropping temperature

>Dying would be preferable to going through that again

>You knew what Samuel, the real Samuel, was going through

>Trapped inside your own mind, screaming answers that would never reach your lips

>Compared to that, even total nothingness was a mercy

>You shake the morose thoughts from your mind as you climb the cellar steps, having stored the last preserves from the cart

>It was about time to eat, and you wouldn't be so dour on a full stomach probably

>You push open the door to find Applejack seated at the dinner table, alone

>Applebloom and Granny Smith were nowhere to be seen, nor was there even a scrap of food on the table

>As you mutely approach, Applejack simply gestures for you to take a seat beside her

>Beside her, not across as it so usually was

>You feel sweat prickling your back, nerves coming to the fore once again

>She stays quiet for a while, the only sounds are the creaking of the house as the cold wind blows outside

>Finally, she speaks up in a grave tone

>”Granny and Applebloom are visitin' our family in Appleloosa, they ain't been out there for a while.”

>You didn't know they had extended family, or that there was even a place called Appleloosa

>What a strange world

>”Now then, Twi was talkin' to your friend Samuel there. You remember that big Solstice festival I let you go to?”

>You nod, becoming more uncomfortable with where this was going

>”Well, Samuel mentioned somethin' about magic in the air. What's more, Twi noticed them beasts in the Everfree were getting agitated around the same time.”

>Your teeth clench tightly, and you can feel your body tense up

>Applejack must notice because she holds out her hooves to try and placate you

>”Look, I ain't sendin' y'all off for reconditioning. You ain't done anythin' that bad in ages, and if I'm real honest I didn't like how it turned you out the first time. It just weren't...you.”

>She trails off, a slight blush colouring her cheeks

>But just as quick as it appears, she shakes her head and it's gone

>”So I want to hear it right from you. Were y'all using magic at whatever party you had?”

>She stays silent and you stay still

>The impasse lasts for a minute, then two, but she holds out longer than you can

>Your shoulders slump and you nod slowly

>Applejack lets out a quiet sigh and seems to relax a bit

>Thank ya, Anon. Now listen, I know y'all don't have magic where you come from but it ain't all the same. Unicorns use a very specific kind, it's safe and stable. But that kind in the Everfree? It's wild, dangerous stuff that makes good folks into crazy beasts.”

>She reaches over and places a hoof on your hand

>”You didn't know you were doing anythin' dangerous, so like I said you don't need to worry about any reconditioning. Just spread the word around, alright? None of us wanna make things around here any harder on y'all, but we expect the same.”

>You nod in agreement

>You're not really sure how you could spread the word, but you can understand the sentiment of live and let live

>Besides, that ritual had left you with a poor taste in your mouth and a pit in your stomach

>Nothing about it had sat well with you at all

>The memories had been far too real to brush them off, and you had felt as though the blood had truly been coating your face

>It was a grisly reminder of the hell that had brought you here

>”Alrighty, let's hit the hay then. Still got some work to do before the snow hits, I've got to head into town tomorrow, you'll be stayin' behind and doin' some maintenance in the tool shed. I'll show ya before I go.”

>You nod again, and without another word Applejack heads upstairs

>It's a while before you turn in on the couch that had become your bed

>The nerves that had plagued you before the conversation have gone, but in their place came different worries

>Just what had this magic done to you?

>Had Tor known about all this before before the ritual, had he even cared?

>What about everyone else, did they have experiences like you did?

>You doubt that answers for that will ever come, and there's a part of you that hopes they never do

>At long last, sleep claims you in blessed silence

--

>The shed is musty, it stinks of earth and rust

>Applejack had left you with oil, a rag, and a steel brush

>Everything had to be cleaned of dirt and rust, then polished so they'd keep through the winter months

>It was going well though, Applejack had even given you an old, woolen blanket to keep you warm in the late autumn chill

>This work was almost like meditation, similar to how you would maintain your rifle

>It allowed you to calm your fears that had arisen the night before

>Ultimately, it didn't matter what Tor knew or didn't know, nor what others had experienced

>What mattered was what happened to you, and it was nothing you couldn't deal with

>Thus, the problem became the new impact this was having on all of you

>Samuel had been reconditioned, even though he'd held no part in the ritual over any of the rest of you

>Of course, you didn't know just what had led to his reconditioning

>He didn't seem like the kind to act out, but people changed and conditions like this changed them faster

>Why would he act out though?

>His work was simple enough, not too strenuous, and Roseluck seemed to allow him a great degree of freedom

>Samuel even seemed to enjoy his work, he'd never once complained about his lot in life despite being a slave in all but name

>Maybe that was what Applejack had meant about the wild magic turning things bad

>You didn't feel any effects from the magic, but maybe you had a natural resistance

>Your mind jumps to asking Twilight, but even thinking about it makes the runes on your arm burn

>That had been happening more often, every time you so much as had a stray thought about speaking

>At least it could be ignored, and didn't seem to have an effect on your work

>Still, best to not forget about it totally

>Certainly not with the examinations coming up

>Ah, the annual medical and psychological evaluation, the only contact with Earth that you would be allowed

>It was the only insurance that your people could hold over the ponies

>There was an unstated threat of horrific violence erupting again, should the visits be denied

>The terms of your 'engagement' had specified no maltreatment, and these were to be sure you were still of sound mind and body before allowing you to stay any longer

>And of course, were you to be found unable to carry on for whatever reason, you would be replaced

>They even offered you a choice as to whether you wanted to stay any longer or be replaced, though it felt more symbolic than actually impactful

>You wonder what the response would be to the second time of a totally silent review

>Last time you had been marked down as a 'rebellion risk' and the ponies had presumably been informed

>But who could say what would happen now?

>It went without saying that you wouldn't speak, but you'd try to be as compliant as you could

>You begin scrub at a resilient spot of rust on the blade of a shovel, but you're interrupted by a tapping at the window

>Glancing up, your eyes widen at the figure standing at the plate glass

>Tor

>You drop the shovel to the floor and throw open the door as he comes around to it

>Without preamble he pushes his way inside

>You shut the door behind you and turn to him, totally baffled by his sudden appearance

>”Hei, brother. Got to talk quick here, don't want to bring any trouble early to you.”

>Trouble, what the hell was he going on about?

>And early, so he meant to bring trouble at some point

>”Yes, yes I'll get to your questions in a minute. Look, we're getting out of here. See I found something in that witch wood, something that stops unicorn magic dead.”

>He takes a twisted, ugly pendant from his pocket and gives you a thin smile

>”Now, they don't know I got this yet but I'm sure they'll find out soon enough. I've got a plan cooking, and I want you to be a part of it. Don't know why, but you weren't taken to that purple bitch like Sam was so I figure they got some trust in you yeah? So take this...”

>He reaches into his waistband and takes out an extremely crude, but unmistakable, handgun

>You can already feel your palms becoming clammy as you stare at it

>This was beyond anything you had thought this was about

>He was planning on restarting the damned war

>”Look, I know you don't want to get back into fighting. Hell, it's not something I want either; but men cannot live under the yolk of another in peace, not for long anyway. I don't want you to have to use it, but it's there.”

>He unrolls a scroll and lays it on the floor of the barn

>You couldn't fault him on his work, the plan was immaculately detailed with a mapped route to your destination and various supplies and expected resources

>He wanted to bring you and everyone else all the way to the Gryphon Empire, across the Northern Narrows, to the single portal between Equestria and home

>Home...

>It all became clear at once

>The artifact, his sudden plan, and the desperation with which he came to you

>If the people back home could figure out the properties of that trinket, they'd finally have a bargaining chip over the princesses here

>Maybe they could even close the portal for good

>”You may have your doubts in me sometimes, but I have faith in you brother. Just hang onto it would you? And keep it out of sight, we don't need the damn horses stumbling on a firearm.”

>Oh right, the gun

>Just where did he get the stuff to build that thing?

>You look at him and he answers as though he's already read your mind

>”Don't worry about the how, by the gods, it's not going to bite you. Now, are you in?”

>You look from him, to the map, to the gun, and back

>Your pulse pounds in your ears

>This was a real chance to get home and to stop the pony threat once and for all

>You'd be heroes, immortalized as the rebels that did everything to ensure the victory of mankind

>Or you'd die trying

>You grit your teeth and finally nod your heavy head

>Tor claps a hand on your shoulder and grins from ear to ear

>”I knew you were the right one. I'll come back when it's time to leave, until then keep quiet eh?”

>You offer a weak smile at the joke

>He grabs the scroll and steals out of the shed, off to wherever he was hiding now

>You stare back down at the crude pistol, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you

>Something in you snaps and you stuff it under a loose sackcloth bag

>You had to get the thing both hidden, more for your own sanity than anything else

>What the hell was he thinking with that?

>Doubts were already beginning to rise in your head, but you dispel them with a vicious shake

>No, you were committed now

>And you were going home

--

>A few more days pass without you seeing hide or hair of Tor

>Actually it's been so quiet as to be rather worrisome

>Not a soul has so much as passed by the farm, and a stifling isolation has been building as of late

>Even Applejack seemed on edge, staying mostly silent as the two of you worked on the final tasks to prepare the farm for the coming winter

>Applebloom and Granny would be back in a couple days, so at least it wouldn't be so tense then

>Until that though, it was just the two of you

>There was nothing to do today until the sun rose, so you were laying on the couch and having a late lie in

>But of course, relaxation simply isn't allowed here

>A sharp rapping at the door has you snap your eyes wide and nearly fall off the couch in surprise

>You rub the sleep from your eyes and trudge to the door

>Opening it finds you staring at none other than Twilight Sparkle and her little pet dragon

>All three of you blink in surprise but after a moment Twilight clears her throat and speaks up

>”Um, good morning Anonymous. Is Applejack around? There's something really important I have to speak with her about.”

>You eye her suspiciously, but gesture for the two of them to come inside

>You get them seated at the kitchen table and go upstairs to fetch Applejack

>She had been up later than usual and was still sleeping

>What a strange day for her to sleep in, the day her friend decides to visit

>Her door is open so you walk right in and beside her bed

>You stare down at her, not moving for a long moment

>The tension you usually see in her body, the subtle fear that had been clouding her sidelong glances lately

>The faint traces of hate that had touched her voice and shone faintly in her eyes

>None of it marred her while she slept

>She was at peace and here you were about to break it

>The barest trace of the cold morning sunlight begins to creep across the still room, snapping you from your reverie

>You give her a gentle tap on the hoof and she starts awake

>”Wha- c'mon Mac gimme five minutes.”

>Mac? Must have been a lover or something

>You prod her hoof again and she stretches out in the bed

>”Alright I'm comin' just hang on a sec and I'll--”

>She cuts off as her gaze falls on you towering above her

>”Oh, Anon. That's right, Anon, why the hay are you wakin' me up at this Celestia forsaken hour?”

>You point downstairs and make a gesture for two

>Hopefully she'd understand

>”Someponies are here to see me? Well why didn't ya say so, I'll be down in a jiffy.”

>You nod and head downstairs, joining Twilight and the dragon at the kitchen table

>Both of them give you uncomfortable stares, though Twilight at least tries to hide it better than her little friend

>You avoid looking at them, opting instead to stare at the last empty seat

>Before long Applejack joins you at the table, clearly still groggy from her quick awakening

>”How's it goin' Twi? Ain't seen you in a while, what brings y'all out here today?”

>The princess looks at you, shifting uncomfortably

>”Can we talk with the human around? He really shouldn't be in on this.”

>Applejack looks at you and looks back at Twilight with a scowl on her face

>”It'll be fine Twi, now come on. Anon and I still got work to do gettin' ready for winter.”

>Twilight's face grows stern and her voice is chilly when she replies

>”I mean it Applejack, I don't want him around for this.”

>You see Applejack open her mouth to keep arguing, but you preempt it by simply leaving the room before she speaks up

>It simply wasn't worth the trouble

>Probably just some pony or mare thing, it wouldn't involve you anyway

>You head outside and take a seat on the porch

>The morning was chilly, but not uncomfortably so and the early sun already has started to warm you up

>Soon after sitting down, you hear muffled voice picking up volume from inside

>Seems things weren't going too well

>Oh well, none of your concern

>Suddenly, the front door slams open, making you jump at the abrupt noise

>Twilight storms out, evidently seething at whatever she and Applejack had talked about

>Her little dragon follows out, glancing at you with clear fear in his eyes

>Applejack soon joins you on the porch, though long after Twilight has left for Ponyville

>A glance tells you that she's shaken, but she doesn't speak up

>You're more than happy to silently enjoy the early winter sun, probably the last before the snows come

>”Yer friend's gone missin'.”

>You snap your head to face her, immediately on guard

>She doesn't react, staring towards the sun still slowly rising on the horizon

>You know immediately who she means though

>Who else could it be but Tor?

>She looks over at you, her gaze tired and seemingly aged

>”I don't suppose y'all know anythin' about this do ya?”

>You shake your head

>Sure you'd never admit to actually knowing something if you did, but in this case you were totally in the dark

>It was only a few more days until the planned trip North, why would he jump ahead like this?

>All of it reeks of something gone terribly wrong

>Applejack stares at you, her face stony and still

>It's hard to tell whether or not she believes you, but eventually she returns her gaze to the lightening sky

>”I guess it don't matter, you wouldn't say if ya did anyhow.”

>She taps her hoof rhythmically on the porch

>”Listen, I get that y'all want to take care of your own but I don't think none of us want anymore fightin'. I've seen those days you're starin' off at nothin'. Y'all can put on this tough quiet guy look all ya want, it don't change how ya feel inside.”

>Her voice cracks and she grinds her teeth

>”You may think we won the war, but you're wrong. Ain't nobody who won that war, we all lost. We all...”

>She trails off, staring at the horizon for a moment longer before letting out a shuddering breath and going inside

>As you stare off at the new dawn, a single thought occupies your mind

>She was right

–

>The cold evening finds you sitting in the barn, having just finished mucking the stables

>For whatever reason, ponies kept cattle

>This in itself wouldn't be too odd, except that they could talk and seemed just as sapient as the ponies were

>They were pleasant enough as well, even if they didn't quite understand your continued silence

>But with their stalls cleaned, they once again went back to conversing with each other or grazing quietly

>It left you alone to think about the news earlier

>Tor missing, and after just announcing his intent to do something that could very well ignite the war again

>You were doubting your commitment to him before, and the more you thought about it the less confidence you had

>It was doubtful you'd ever make it to the portal, much less make it through

>But you had promised, and you were no oathbreaker

>You were still jittery, tapping your foot as you thought over and over about the plan

>In theory it was quite simple, just walking away from the farm when the time came

>But since you had come to Equestria the first day, nothing had gone as planned

>You stare up at the walls, as though you might find solace in the old knots and whorls of the oak planks

>Your eyes are drawn to a a hat hanging on a nail high up on the back wall

>Curious that you couldn't remember seeing it before

>The thick coat of dust on the felt brim is testament to how long it's been hanging in the barn

>You take it daintily from the wall, brushing the dust and examining it closely

>It's just an ordinary stetson, a bit small for a human but rather large for the average pony

>A bit larger than Applejack's, it seemed

>You turn it over and look inside the brim, wondering just it belonged to

>Inside the hat, the word 'Mac' was embroidered in fine threadwork

>Wasn't that the name AJ had muttered in her sleep not too long ago?

>Maybe he had been a farmhand or something, or a cousin?

>He must have just left it here when he left, maybe as a memento or something

>Whatever the reason, it was just about the right size for you

>You'd bring it in to AJ and see if you could use it instead, if it was just sitting lonely in this barn

>Would be great for keeping the sun off your neck come the summertime

>It was strange, even now you were thinking about still being here despite your commitment to leaving

>Why was it you were so far removed from everyone else?

>The others all spoke of home in reverent tones, as though it was the most perfect place imaginable

>Sure you wanted to go home just as much as anyone else, but you didn't hold it in particularly high regard

>Everyone back there seemed to acquiesce to the terms of surrender so easily, as though the enslavement of anyone but themselves was a tiny price to pay

>As long as they weren't in any danger themselves, they'd okay anything

>You could understand it, but it disgusted you

>Even if the ponies accepted what happened, most weren't quite comfortable with the ideas it represented

>Be it slavery or just having humans around, there was more than one petition to have you all sent home

>But the gryphons were a major obstacle there, they were unlikely to allow any kind of human exodus, they had been reluctant to even allow the annual check ups

>Despite that, the ponies seemed to push more for your freedom than your own kind

>You wonder what the reaction would be to your little group showing up on Earth

>Would you be received as heroes, like the POWs that escaped the Germans in the second world war?

>Or would it be colder and secretive, the people thrusting you into hiding out of fear of another magical war?

>Perhaps they'd even try to turn you back, what then?

>You leave the barn, hat in hand, but the doubts stay whirling around your mind

>The dying daylight holds no answers, and you find yourself wandering through the yard aimlessly

>Suddenly a muffled shriek echoes through the farmyard

>The noise chills your blood and sends a flood of adrenaline through your veins

>It was clearly Applejack

>What's more, it wasn't a sound of pain as though she had burned herself while cooking dinner

>No, that was a cry of fear

>You start to run towards the homestead but pause in front of the tool shed beside it

>It takes you a long moment of reflection before running inside the shed and digging through the sackcloth bag

>With the improvised pistol in hand, you start off once more towards the house

>AJ's reaction to you being armed be damned, if she was in danger you would deal with her objections after stopping the problem

>Slave owner she may be, but she was a decent person, horse, whatever

>You peer through the windows, nothing seems amiss to you

>No signs of forced entry through the front, or items out of place

>Still, that was no reason not to be cautious

>Slowly, carefully, you open the front door, the well oiled hinges smoothly sliding without a sound

>The only noise is a slight scraping on tile and a muffled noise of exertion

>You move towards the source slowly, the training you had neglected coming back easily, your mind slipping back to that of a fighter, an infiltrator

>With speed and silence you enter the kitchen, pistol raised, and find the origin of the noise

>Applejack was struggling against her assailant, who had a thick arm wrapped around her throat and was clearly fighting hard to keep his grip

>They both look up at you simultaneously, AJ with fear and her attacker with glee

>As for you, you can only imagine the look of horror on your face as shards of ice pierce your heart

>”Evening, brother.”

>Tor's voice cuts to your bone, more easily than the knife glinting in his fist

>You lower the improvised flintlock, gesturing at the two of them with a look of confusion

>What in the hell was he doing here now, and why was he attacking Applejack?

>His grin grows and he shrugs

>”I guess you weren't expecting me for a bit, eh? Well don't worry about it too much, I'm here to throw off your shackles early.”

>Applejack has stopped struggling, simply staring up at you with wide eyes

>Tor twirls the knife and smiles

>”So then, I'll just finish this mule off and we'll be on our way.”

>AJ struggles weakly, trying to pull away from the ever approaching knife

>But out of nowhere, he pauses

>He turns his gaze on you again, a wicked smile spreading over his face

>”Actually, she's your owner right?”

>It's rhetorical, but you nod despite yourself

>Where was he going with this?

>His smile widens and he spins the knife again before pointing it at the pony

>”Then she's all yours brother, I wouldn't dare get in the way of vengeance like that.”

>He tosses her to the ground, gives her stomach a vicious kick, and steps away from the shivering ball of orange fur

>You recall the long nights and longer days, worked till you broke, the reconditioning, screaming at the walls built in your mind

>She had treated you like dirt

>But that wasn't all...

>You raise the pistol and aim in a single fluid motion

>The pan sizzles and flashes, a loud crack echoes through the small homestead and into the cold night

>Everything is still, silent, the room filled with the stench of black powder

>You sigh into the sudden and smokey stillness, the energy suddenly sapped from your bones

–

>Applejack heaves on the ground, shuddering and sobbing quietly

>Tor's body crumples to the ground, and he lets out a pained, gurgling gasp

>You drop the pistol from you shaking hands, walking over and kneeling down next to him

>His breath comes in short, difficult bursts, but his eyes follow your every move

>His mouth moves, forming the question you know you'll be asking yourself for years to come

>”Why?”

>His breaths become more shallow, gasps really, and his hand reaches out to grasp at nothing

>You take hold of his hand and gently press it back to his chest, your eyes never leaving his

>It takes a long time for the light to leave his eyes

>Long enough for blood to pool on the floor and start to thicken

>Long enough for your hands to be dyed red

>And long after it does, you're still resting your hand on his

>At some point, Applejack leaves you alone with him, slamming the door shut behind her and galloping into the night

>She was probably going to fetch the guards to take you away

>You deserved it really

>You had come within spitting distance of doing something that would have reignited the war

>And though you hadn't attacked AJ, you'd still committed what was essentially murder

>Back on Earth you may have gotten away with it, but in Equestria?

>No, you'd likely be hanged or worse

>You didn't actually know what ponies did for capital punishment, was drawing and quartering something that they'd do?

>Maybe that was too barbaric, but given what they had done to Earth nothing seemed beyond the pale

>Long after the sun has gone down, you finally rise from Tor's side

>You numbly begin putting the kitchen in order, extinguishing the stove, cleaning dishes, even beginning to mop the blood that was staining the wooden floor

>It was barely conscious behavior, your mind was far away

>You'd never see your home again, most likely, but you didn't deserve to either

>The plan to escape was now impossible, and you were set for reconditioning at the best, prison at the least, and death at the worst

>You gaze off into the black trees of the Everfree, easily within running distance

>It wouldn't be particularly difficult to live there for a short time, surviving from whatever you could scavenge or hunt while evading capture

>But you couldn't run from this

>From the ponies, sure, but Tor would haunt you just as much as your own mind

>You clean your hands as best you can and go to the living room to await the gavel that would surely be falling soon

>No matter how much blood on your hands and fear in your heart, you would face judgment for it as a man, not a mouse

>You don't have to wait long

>The door flies open and you feel the familiar tingle of magic as it restrains your limbs and throws you to the floor

>The sound of several sets of hooves pounding on the wood floor echoes behind you, and you hear the sound of a pony trying not to be sick

>Twilight's voice comes from behind you in a disgusted, but still commanding tone

>”Anonymous, you're under arrest for the charge of murder. Do not resist us or we'll do whatever is necessary to stop you.”

>Why would you?

>It wasn't like you had been particularly rebellious before, your communication with Tor notwithstanding of course

>A frantic shout comes from the kitchen

>”Princess, I think we found it!”

>The magical aura disappears from your body, but is swiftly replaced by a pair of hooves digging into your spine

>Her hoofsteps clop into the kitchen and she gasps in shock

>”Cosmic Mother...that's it alright.”

>Her voice is full of a fear you've never heard from any pony

>”Get this thing to the palace immediately. I'll send a missive to Princess Celestia that it's been secured and not to worry.”

>You hear and awkward coughing and Twilight lets out a tired sigh

>”That's right...”

>He hoofsteps approach you again, and this time she lowers herself so you are looking into her violet eyes

>It's...different from the last time, when she was reconditioning you

>She seems older, more tired

>Her mane appears, in the faint lamplight, to have streaks of grey coming in at the roots, and faint crows feet have appeared around her eyes

>You don't recall her looking like this at all

>Her tone is harsh, but she sounds utterly exhausted when she speaks

>”You'll be taken to the holding cells in the Castle of Friendship. We'll get to the bottom of what you did here.”

>What you did, not what happened

>It wouldn't be fun, however they intended to get the explanation from you

>Probably that insidious magic of Twilight's, digging around in your brain until it was just a scrambled mess of nothing

>Twilight pulls away and AJ takes her place in your view

>Her eyes are red and her face fearful

>She sniffles and her voice cracks when she finally manages to talk

>”I don't rightly know where y'all got that gun, or why ya had it. I don't know why ya did...what ya did instead of bein' free. Buck, I don't even know if any of this was the right thing. But thank ya, Anon.”

>And then she's gone and you're whisked away

>The guards toss you into an iron cage on the back of a carriage and gallop the whole way to the dark spires of the castle

>They waste little time throwing you into a black cell somewhere deep in its walls

>You'd been left with a blanket that did hardly a thing to ward off the biting cold that seemed to seep from the very stones

>So you shudder and shake under the rough wool of the cloth, exhausted and alone

>Truly alone now, most ponies would likely be afraid of you and most humans would call you a traitor

>With those pleasant ruminations echoing in your mind, you close your eyes and drift into fitful, nightmare filled sleep

--

>You feel your eyes open, but you wonder if they really have

>Presented with total darkness, you panic and flail your arms around for something, anything to tell you where you are

>Disturbingly, and despite not changing colour in the slightest, it seems to ripple about as you move

>You clutch your knees to your chest, unwilling to even twitch

>All around you, the eerie black seems to pulse and swirl with an incomprehensible rhythm

>The only time stillness appears is when you shut your eyes, and every time you open them you're treated to the writhing motion again

>From the roiling void, you hear a footstep echo out, then more in a slow cadence

>Footsteps...not hoofbeats like it should have been

>Against all logic, a silhouette appears against the inky, twisting black

>It's human, there's no doubting that, but its appearance was odd

>Two protrusions jutted from either side of a too-round head, odd angles were present all over its torso

>But the reason soon makes itself known

>Barely perceptible over the echoing footsteps was dull clanking, like some kind of metal armour

>What the hell was coming for you?

>At last, it comes fully into view, illuminated by some bizarre unlight that cast no shadows and made no reflections in its deep turquoise eyes

>A valkyrie, of all things it could have been that was certainly not what you were thinking

>She smiles at you, her look sweet, kind, ferocious

>”I am Mani, and I will be your guide.”

>Ah, so that was it then

>Strange, you had thought there would be more feast and celebration in the halls of the gods

>Though if she was here to guide you, perhaps you just hadn't arrived yet

>She sits in front of you and giggles in a lilting tone, sweet as the spring

>”I can already see your mind racing, but before I answer your questions, you must give me the same kindness.”

>Well that was certainly a reasonable request, so you open your mouth to affirm your willingness

>The moment you do, a searing pain races up and down your forearm, making your clamp your mouth shut and grind your teeth

>That shouldn't have been happening...unless the magic was tied to you even far beyond

>Mani frowns and with a soft hand, grips your arm and examines the faintly glowing runes

>”How strange this magic. But no matter, I can solve this simply.”

>She snaps her fingers and leans back, her warm smile gracing her lips again

>You knit your brows in confusion, your arm was still aching so just what had she done?

>Suddenly, the roiling black turns a deep, mysterious indigo

>You recoil at the sudden change, alarmed by the unprovoked change

>The colour becomes an electric purple, pulsing in time with your heartbeat

>Mani raises her hand and shushes you gently

>”Be calm, I have merely allowed this place to reflect your feelings. Through this I can interpret your response to any questions I have.”

>That didn't make too much sense, but you were dealing with something beyond human understanding

>So you decide to accept the answer, and to your relief the realm fades to its deep black once again

>She nods and leans forward, her expression turning serious

>”Now then, you were an indentured servant in this land of Equestria, were you not?”

>Of course you were, didn't she already know this?

>The void glows a dull green momentarily before returning to black

>”Good, and you were captured during a war with the ponies and gryphons?”

>Again, it flashes green, pulsing this time as if it feels your annoyance

>And again, the valkyrie nods

>”Did you resist them, struggle against the unjust servitude?”

>Of course you had, and the strong green glow reflects that sentiment

>But only for a moment

>It flickers and fades into a deep orange, the wave-like motion increasing

>You had resisted as well as you could, hadn't you?

>It wasn't like you had gone along with absolutely everything with no questions asked, you wouldn't have been reconditioned if you had

>Still, had you broken so easily after just one session?

>A warm touch caresses your cheek and the world once more darkens

>”Let your worries flow away, I would not be here without good reason, dear soldier.”

>You exhale deeply, calming yourself as much as you could

>Yes, a valkyrie wouldn't come for you unless you had been selected already, this was merely a final test of sorts to prove your mettle further

>”Now then, you were the one that killed Torlund were you not?”

>You feel your heart jump in your chest and your throat restricts

>But there was no running from it, she knew, you knew, and it was something you had to face

>The world glows a shameful green, dark as winter evergreens

>”Was it in self-defense?”

>A burning red takes over the green, as though a fire ripping through a forest

>”Of another?”

>The green returns like new shoots over the ashes of that destroyed landscape

>”Of your slaver?”

>The green deepens again before the void once more fades to black

>The valkyrie stands and moves closer, her face filling your gaze

>”It was good of you to be honest, soldier. Now open your eyes, I will return to you shortly.”

>She disappears along with the writhing nothingness, driving your eyes open to be greeted by the blackness of your cell

>A dream, it was just a dream

 

>Hoofsteps echoed down the empty halls, lit only by the light of the dawn streaming through stained glass windows

>They're approaching with a rapid, military cadence and authority that tells you exactly who it is

>You are Celestia, waiting for your sister to make her surely grand entrance

>The great doors of the throne room are practically thrown apart with a thunderous crash

>She strides in, her face dark with a thunderous expression

“The interrogation went well then, dear sister?”

>She huffs and takes a seat in the throne beside your own, her brows furrowed

>”Sister, have I ever been wrong about what I've learned in a dream before?”

>You think back to the many times she had done this before

>Luna was by no means infallible, nopony was, but in the case of dreams you could not recall a single instance of her being wrong

“Not in my memory, Luna. Why do you ask?”

>She sighs and lowers her head

>”Then he's innocent of murder, by both ours and the humans reckoning. That said, it's clear he does not feel the same way.”

>You offer her an understanding smile

>It was strange to you as well, so few killings had ever occurred in recent Equestrian history that your entire legal staff had to plumb pre-Lunar Rebellion texts to find fitting examples

>The entire ordeal, taxing as it was, had given you an odd feeling of excitement

>After all, though it involved tragedy, it had brought about a diplomatic and legal challenge

>These were situations that you had actually enjoyed in your long tenure, sifting through volumes of arcane legalism for little details that could make or break cases

>Perhaps Twilight took after you more than you realized

>”I don't understand it sister, why would a human act like this? Even in ponies, outside the Elements themselves, these actions would be considered out of place.”

>You brush a wing across her back, your smile tinged now with a hint of sorrow

>The war had broken the land, and with it everypony had broken in their own way

>Luna had developed a paranoia that bordered on the mania that was a precursor to her fall, though it was at least directed to the outside rather than at you and your subjects

>Just the same, you had far too many a sleepless night since the end of that terrible war

“Indeed dear sister, but I trust your abilities. If the human truly did no wrong, then how would it be justified to prosecute him?”

>Luna huffs and tosses her mane to the side

>”I would not go so far as to say he did no wrong, dear sister. After all, do not forget that he was a soldier. As far as I'm concerned they have all sinned against our kind and deserve punishment.”

>You nod and rest your chin on an upraised hoof

“I cannot disagree that they ought to be punished. However, we cannot simply mete out vengeance as we see fit. We are not the monsters their propaganda made us out to be, nor should we ever fall so low as to become them.”

>Another huff, Luna's feelings on the matter were all too clear

>But taking absolute revenge wasn't in your blood, and you certainly wouldn't order reprisals for a war that ultimately the humans lost

>The servitude of their fellows was a demand of the gryphons when it came to peace negotiations, the only reason Equestria had taken some on was giving those ghastly creatures no reason to believe that you would enter accord with the humans behind their back

>A sharp knock on the door draws you from your thoughts of the past

>You sit up straighter in your throne, as does your sister

>This was the true trial of the day

>The doors swing wide and the captain of the guard enters, clearing his throat

>”Presenting his honour, the Right and Honourable Prime Minister Desjardins.”

>A tall, thin human dressed in a silk suit strides through the doors behind the captain, offering you a bow

>You rack your memory for a moment to recall which nation the small red and white flag on his lapel represented

>”Your majesties, I offer humble greetings from the nation of Canada. May your reigns be filled with peace and abundant harvests.”

>Ah that was right, you remember this one from the negotiating table during the peace talks

>Fawning and sycophantic as his words seemed, he was more sly than the meanest of merchants

>Of course the empty praise had to be returned, such was the nature of these sorts of exchanges

“And the same to all your peoples, prime minister. May I ask what it is you seek to petition us for today?”

>His wide smile shrinks by a few molars and you just catch the slight sound of his teeth grinding

>”We received word of an...incident that occurred between two of the indentured servants that were asked of us. Though doubtless you have dealt with it with the wisdom and grace all ponies carry with them, I must ask that you involve us in the process as well.”

>This time it is Luna who speaks up

>”And why, pray tell, would we be interested in such an arrangement. The being you speak of is in our custody and beholden to our laws. For all intents and purposes, he is an Equestrian subject.”

>His smile all but disappears and he clears his throat quietly

>”While that may be, I believe these to be quiet extreme circumstances. Surely he ought to be brought back to Earth and be made to stand trial before a jury of his peers. Though I do not doubt the wisdom and fairness with which your justice is conducted, I believe it in both our interests to avoid anything that would stain our reputations.”

>Luna's mouth snaps open but you raise a hoof to forestall any complaint from her

>Though you were nominally equals, Luna's temper did make things awkward sometimes

“I would not worry about such actions, we are not as hasty in our decisions as you may think. He will be tried in Equestria as our subject, just as the treaty dictates.”

>Any trace of the smile is long gone, his lips now stiff and pursed

>”Then I invoke section three of the second article of the Imperial, Equestrian, and United Nations Peace Accords. The human you have arrested is to be extradited to Earth to stand trial for the crime of murder in the second degree.”

>Luna sneers at the man and you scoff at the ridiculous demand

“Section three applies only to convicted criminals or criminals that committed their crime on Earth and somehow escaped through the portal. You would be hard pressed to make a case that Anonymous falls into either of those categories.”

>Luna's voice booms out as yours quiets, a hammer blow to close the conversation

>”What's more, you would take the idea of innocence before guilt and stamp it underfoot simply to try one of your own? Utter foolishness.”

>Desjardins' icy blue eyes flit over to lock with Luna's

>”In extreme circumstances, the right to innocence before guilt can be suspended. I have already argued that this is such a time before my own people and they agreed. This man will be extradited and stand trial, your majesties.”

>If looks could kill, you're quite certain Luna would be on trial herself

>However, you manage to preempt whatever scathing retort she had prepared

“Then you will, of course, submit the proper documentation to do so. Once that is done, we can take this argument before a tribunal and present our legal debate before them. I certain you haven't forgotten the eighth clause of the section you invoked. With all that, we should be able to bring this forward in...a year or so, perhaps eighteen months depending on the court backlogs.”

>The prime minister grinds his teeth again

>”I don't believe the UN will agree to such clearly overreaching tactics like this you--!”

“I believe, prime minister, that you will follow due process in order to avoid any sort of misunderstandings that could be mistaken as the rumblings of battle. The system is in place to avoid such conflicts, so let us use it, lest misfortune befalls the people of Earth once again.”

>He swallows heavily, as though suddenly realizing just how far he was taking the argument

>”Very well, your majesties. Please do expect a missive from the United Nations soon, we shall not delay in our diligence.”

>You nod, turning your snout up at the human who once more had a smile on his face

>To your satisfaction, it was noticeably emptier than it had been when he entered

“Then you may go, prime minister. Again, give my regards to the people of Earth. We wish them well in the face of all obstinance.”

>His jaw tightens but he merely bows and exits the throne room swiftly, the doors shutting behind him with a muffled boom

>Luna immediately brings an imperious hoof down on the marble steps with a crash

>”That simpering mutt dares to threaten us? These humans forget their recent history far too quick.”

>You brush a wing over her back, taking several deep breaths to calm yourself

“Peace, Luna. That is the goal of these things, maddening as they may be. I'm quite certain that this is more emotionally trying for him than for us.”

>Luna snorts, not satisfied with your defense of the man

>”So then, what do we do? We cannot simply sit and wait for their demand to arrive formally. The humans have the death penalty, Celestia! We cannot give this one back, even if he did kill.”

>You nod, if you gave the man up there was no doubt he would be tried and executed, no matter how airtight the case of defense of another was

>Resentment of ponies and gryphons had knit the humans closer than ever in their fractious history, and someone stepping outside that on the behalf of a perceived enemy would be hammered down

>You tap a hoof against your chin, humming thoughtfully

>There was perhaps a way around this, bits a pieces of obscure laws begin to dance through your mind as you ponder

>”What do we do? Surely you wouldn't go into this without some kind of plan, right? You know the laws better than anypony alive or dead, you must have something!”

>From the maelstrom of arcane legal passages and ancient court proceedings, a pattern begins to glimmer

“I just might, Luna. I just might.”

–

>It's been three days that you've been locked in the cell

>No more visits from the valkyrie, no dreams at all in fact

>Just four stone walls, the thin straw mattress, and your own thoughts to torment you

>At the very least it had given you the time to come to terms with what you had done

>Whether you were considered a murderer by human or pony law wasn't much of an issue, your actions were right

>Though you considered him your brother even now, Tor wasn't a righteous man

>He tried sometimes, but more often than not he had acted in immoral or simply foolish ways

>The forest ritual was a fine example, though you had gone along with the stupidity of it

>And now, even though you desperately wished to speak up in your defense, you were totally incapable

>You idly scratch at the runes on your arm, thinking of just how foolish that must make you

>After all, more foolish is the man that follows an idiot thinking him a prophet

>The lock in the door rattles and the hinges whine quietly as it opens

>It must be noon already, time for a plain meal of boiled oats and a turnip if they felt kind

>You wonder just how long it would be before they dragged you before a court and demanded your testimony

>Just what would you say?

>What would they say to your enforced silence?

>Your train of thought grinds to a halt as the figure behind the door makes herself known

>”Hello Anonymous, do come with us.”

>Princess Luna turns her back and begins to walk down the halls of the dungeon

>You poke your head out after her, wondering if it was some kind of trap

>But the guard merely huffs and gives you a gentle push towards the waiting princess

>Well then, this was it

>You hold your head high and step from your cell, following behind the lunar monarch

>She takes you up through the castle, down twisting and turning corridors in a seemingly random pattern

>You briefly wonder if she's just trying to find somewhere secluded to kill you

>Everyone knew about her magical prowess on the battlefield, the killing fields of the Dnieper

>But after a few minutes, you arrive at your apparent destination

>It was a small meeting room filled mostly by a round, oak table

>Seated at the table are two ponies you certainly hadn't expected to see until you went before a judge

>At the far end of the table sits Princess Celestia, and to her right Twilight Sparkle

>Luna sits and gestures for you to do the same

>You follow her order, wondering just why you were in such “honoured” company

>They don't wait too long to enlighten you

>”Anonymous, it has come to our attention that you are unable to speak.”

>Celestia's tone is warm, maternal almost, as she talks to you

>You're surprised to be addressed so kindly, surely they knew who you were and what you had done

>As if reading your mind, Twilight speaks up

>”Relax, would you? What happened in the war happened. We all need to move past it if we're ever going to find some kind of lasting peace. Besides, it's harder to examine an antsy patient.”

>Luna clears her throat and glares at Twilight, a look that is returned with a hint more annoyance

>”What? That's what he's here for right? We can't just have a mute nodding along dumbly with all of this!”

>All of what? And what examination?

>”Twilight, I understand your frustration but do not lash out at my sister like that. We must all keep a level head if this endeavour is to be successful.”

>What were these crazy horses talking about?

>Luna keeps her mouth shut, affecting a bored expression at all of this

>You couldn't be more confused

>”Fine, fine. Anonymous, extend your right arm would you?”

>Well you could either do it willingly or have it pulled forward with magic, and given your other experiences...

>Hesitantly, you put the requested arm on the table in front of you

>As Twilight's horn lights up, you eye her warily, weighing the odds of you actually being able to do anything about this situation

>Again, the honeyed tones of Celestia pipe up

>”Peace, peace, it is merely an examination. Nothing will be done to violate you like the wild magic has done.”

>Wait, was magic the reason you weren't able to speak?

>Your arms buzzes as though with static as your fingers twitch

>Humans weren't able to use magic though, so had some crazy unicorn put a spell or curse on you when you were sleeping?

>Sure there were plenty of ponies that held grudges, but why something so specific?

>Your thoughts continue to race until the sensation on your arm disappears and Twilight lets out a quiet sigh

>”As I suspected from Luna's report. Through some means, those runes on Anonymous' arm have enchanted him to muteness. And I bet I know what.”

>She glares pointedly at you, her brow furrowing

>”Just what was that ritual you performed in the Everfree, hm? Some kind of mass hex on ponykind?”

>Luna suddenly perks up from her feigned boredom

>”What ritual, Twilight?”

>Twilight rolls her eyes and makes a noncommittal gesture with her hoof

>”Some weird thing a group of humans did in the forest on the solstice. Nothing seemed to come of it so I didn't think I'd have to consider it a factor. However...”

>Your arm tingles again and Twilight leans over the table to examine the runes more closely

>As she does, you look more closely and see a faint, golden haze surrounding them

>”I believe that, whatever they intended to do, made the natural wild magic of the Everfree channel through them. It could have something to do with why the other human suddenly decided to rebel. Meanwhile, since Anonymous already had some kind of spellword carved in his arm, it merely reinforced it.”

>She scratches her chin with a hoof and the runes suddenly feel as though they're burning

>Your fist clenches and you pull your arm close to your chest, heaving great gasps as the pain gradually recedes

>Twilight doesn't jump at the outburst, merely returning to her seat with a sigh

>”I can't do anything about it now, princesses. This isn't some clean kind of spell, or even a complex but formulaic hex. I would have to dedicate hours to studying just how this spell was acting in order to make any progress in terminating it.”

>You hope at least that, if she was going to do that, it wouldn't all feel like that did

>Celestia nods and closes her eyes

>”Very well, then we'll have to do this another way.”

>The solar princess nods to a guard, who knocks on the door three times

>It opens and a rather confused and totally exhausted looking Applejack walks through

>”Uh, beggin' your pardon princesses, but how can I help y'all?”

>Applejack takes a seat beside you, her brow etched with concern

>Celestia speaks up again, her tone harder than granite

>”Anonymous, you were from a country called Canada, yes?”

>You nod your head, confused by the sudden change of tack

>”Three days ago, a diplomat from your country had an audience with us. He demanded your immediate extradition to face murder charges on Earth.”

>Your heart sinks

>Of course the incident with Tor would have been reported immediately, it concerned the wellbeing of humans after all

>These were consequences you hadn't expected, humans wanting to prosecute you for what you'd done

>Ponies certainly, it was proof to them that you were a violent human and nothing more

>But to have your own people turn on you like this?

>Better to be tried and executed here, you would never be welcome home again

>”Yesterday we received an official missive from your United Nations for the extradition of the Canadian citizen in Equestrian detention on the charge of second degree murder.”

>You hang your head, this was it

>Applejack must be here to sign the release papers, considering you were technically under her command

>”Of course, we are all certain of what fate awaits you, should you be returned to Earth.”

>Death, no doubt

>Possibly a lynching before the trial date, if you were considerably unlucky

>And given all this, you no doubt were

>”However, given these extreme circumstances, we have qualms about simply giving you back.”

>You raise your head, wondering what was coming next

>Luna sighs heavily and taps her hoof on the table

>”Do not drag this out any longer, sister. We have duties to attend to besides this.”

>Twilight rolls her eyes and Celestia clears her throat as she unravels a scroll

>”We cannot protect you as it stands right now. However, on the testimony of Applejack and my dear sister, you have been exonerated pending a judicial ruling.”

>Your eyes widen, this wasn't something you expected to hear in a million years

>She raises a hoof to forestall anything from the others

>”In light of this, we would like to make an offering under which we can protect you against these charges.”

>She slides the scroll across to you and you squint at the Ponish runes drawn on it

>You could barely read half of the letters, so you glance up at Celestia for an explanation

>Twilight is the one who speaks up, to your surprise

>”Basically we're going to give you the status of 'extraordinary migrant'. It both will allow the court ruling here to stick, and pave the way to possible Equestrian citizenship. Obviously that means we could veto the extradition, as the crime committed by an Equestrian citizen was committed in Equestria and tried in our courts.”

>Your look of confusion must match the one on Applejack's face when Luna chimes in

>”Make no mistake, you won't be popular here. However after considering the circumstances, we decided this was the right course to take.”

>You stare down at the parchment, totally taken aback by the very idea they were suggesting

>Citizenship? After everything that had happened

>Applejack's timid voice speaks up into the quiet

>”If y'all don't mind me asking, why am I here exactly? It looks like this is all sorted.”

>Celestia offers AJ a warm smile

>”All migrants need a sponsor, Applejack. Since you were his caretaker already, you seemed to be the obvious choice. Of course any sponsorship fees would be covered by the crown, this is merely a requirement of the law.”

>Applejack looks at you, then the parchment, and finally at Celestia

>”Y'all are serious?”

>The princesses nod as one, leaving the farmer to sigh and look up at you

>You meet her jade coloured eyes with a heavy gaze

>This was it, where it all fell through

>”Look, you know I ain't on good terms with humans. Heck, when you came to my farm I thought Dash had come by with a real bad joke. I don't know that I'll ever like y'all whatsoever, no matter how many years go by.”

>She removes her hat and brushes a bit of dust from the brim

>It was a valiant try, but it seemed you would be going home after all

>”Still, even when ya weren't following the rules too good, you never tried to hurt no one; heck, I've had more pushback from 'Bloom. And maybe it's because I ain't had much sleep lately or someone slipped some cider in me this mornin'...”

>She gives a rattling sigh and rubs a hoof under her eyes

>”Dangit, Mac's gonna give me an earful when we meet up again. Shoot, and 'Bloom ain't forgivin' this one. But I can't let y'all just go back and die.”

>Applejack turns back to Celestia and puts her hat back on

>”I'll do it.”

>You're stunned

>There's no doubt your eyes are comically wide, and your mouth is open in shock

>Twilight and Luna seem to share your feelings, but Celestia smiles and slides a quill and inkwell across the table

>”I'm delighted to hear that Applejack. After all that you've been through, it blesses me to see that it has not sapped the kindness from you.”

>She scrawls her signature and turns to you, her expression grim

>”We're square now, don't you go tryin' to call in no favours on me. And you'd better be behavin' well or I'll tan your hide worse than granny ever did to me.”

>She huffs and stares back at the parchment, as though wishing it would burst into flame

>Celestia catches your gaze and her smile becomes more tenuous

>”Now then, it is up to you. Ultimately we cannot force you into this, and we cannot know if this is an offense to humankind or not. But please consider, though you may be received coldly in Equestria, we may yet forgive. I believe it no exaggeration when I say Earth will not welcome you home. However, it is up to you, Anonymous.”

>You meet the gazes of the three princesses

>Luna was grim faced, betraying nothing of her own feelings on the matter

>Celestia's face has calmed and she looks regal and serene

>Twilight is staring at you with no small amount of frustration, but her eyes hold a glimmer of hope

>Hope for what, you cannot say

>Finally, you look down at Applejack

>The princess' words seem to have softened her expression, and she seems almost frightened

>But as with Twilight, you're not sure what answer she is anticipating

>Briefly, her eyes catch yours and you realize the answer that troubles her more

>You feel your throat constricting, your heart pounding in your chest

>Your eyes burn with tears, as does your arm from the arcane curse as you meet Celestia's even gaze

>Fire races up and down your arm, making you grit your teeth in agony

>But you had to answer

>You force your mouth open and the answer croaks out