The Terrible Two heard Pinkie Pie’s declaration and were greatly distressed. So they took some time to gather their thoughts and compose themselves in preparation to convene soundly. Around twilight on the next day, once again, they went to Whitetale Wood. There, they found an elliptical clearing where they would begin war council. The sky was overcast on that day; being heavily laden with dark clouds ready to pour out their waves of rain. The two entered the de facto temple of council; the uncut grass being crushed under their hooves audibly.

On the right side of my vision, on the right focus of the ellipse, stood Suffering. The leader stood as tall as Celestia, a towering six feet. She was a white alicorn with a long, black flowing mane. Her eyes were violet and her pupils were slits. Her wingspan was ten feet long and her wings were powerful. Her horn was sharp and long. She was clothed in silver armor and boasted the aegis on her left side. On her right side she kept her white spear and her silver bow. Even naked, I knew that she would seem strong, but with her armor, she was resilient to say the least.

Standing upon the left focus of the ellipse was Fear, the terrible mistress of dread and panic. She too was a divine alicorn; boasting an awesome height of six and a half feet; dwarfing any mortal pony. Her shining coat was purely black like the night; unassuaged by any imperfection or color. Her long, well-kept mane was a striking crimson that could be likened to the blood-red rose, which inspired all who beheld her to shudder. Her eyes were green like emeralds; filled with the knowledge of the aeons. They were full of a petrifying malice which cannot be delimited. One could see the gargantuan muscules that bulged from her body. Her massive wings outstretched to a horrifying twelve feet, and they shook the ground with the intensity of their dreadful might when she spread them. Due to their luster, the heavens were at her command. No fortress had walls high enough to keep her out. No pony could run either fast enough or far enough that Fear could not see them from far away.

Extending from her head was her sharpened, lengthy horn of an intimidating two feet with which she could gore any who displeased her and cast merciless, eternal madness on any who anger her. She had no armor to keep her safe nor did she require any. Nopony was brave enough to stand against her. She carried no weapons, nor were such burdens necessary. Her mind was all that she needed to subdue whole armies that foolishly believed they could impede her in her sole duty. Without lifting a hoof, they were all defeated and sent to a world of everlasting horror from which there was no escape or hope for respite. Yet this rarely occurred. Most of the time they trembled at the very thought of opposing her and never took to the field. Fear was a mistress also of war.

They had given themselves time to calm themselves of any outbursts that they would have made the day before. However I could see that Suffering was not calm per se. Though she did not show it, she was extremely on edge and shaken by the recent incident. Yet she put on a façade well and spoke in a confident tone to Fear. The harbinger of pain thus spoke:

It is a fine day to plan, great Fear.

The sky is shaded before us,

And the unkind sun fails to shine her harsh rays upon our faces;

Blinding us and forcing our honored heads downward towards the pitiful ground.

Look now. A sacred trickle begins from the veiled heavens.

The merciful grey clouds bestow their first blessings upon the lower world.

Soon the exasperating bustle of the cities shall be drowned out by the rain

And the strident noise of the towns will no longer assault our tired ears.

Lovely peace will reign over this world:

The splendor of a storm obscuring the turmoil.

Everypony will take to shelter,

And in their homes they will meet serenity.

One wishes that all days could be as this:

Perfect in light and darkness.

Truly the ponies of old were right when they said,

Everything in moderation.

Yet all good things must come to an end.

Day and night, pleasure and pain; Neither mood is everlasting

Nor is the change slow. It allows for no adaptation.

It is quick and jarring; unexpected, without warning.

This accursed mare is to blame for the present hour of pain.

She declares war against wondrous balance.

She upsets the equilibrium of the world;

Tipping the scales and tearing peace asunder.

She stands against us courageously;

Preparing for the great furor of battle.

She declares us her enemies and clothes herself to clash with us.

Neither side, decisively opposed, can now dream of amity.

Here is a lowly mortal who stands against the deathless principalities.

She marches alone, without fleshly aid or empyreal god to come to her rescue.

How audacious! Ah, the mad resolve with which she undertakes her task.

This is no mission of sanity. Only the senseless dream of such folly.

Yet unbelievably the mare poses no minor threat.

Though unthinkable, the pony poses potential danger.

For even as the smallest of wounds if left unattended can fester and afflict the whole being,

So this mere opponent has the end to undo the brilliance of our deeds.

Thus like the good doctor, we must not neglect our duty.

Khaos’ son showed us this: we cannot delay.

For the green disease beginning in the ankle, now creeps up the foreleg

With the intent to destroy the whole body.

Therefore then, almighty Fear,

Fatherless daughter and peerless goddess,

What say you concerning these things;

You, being so well versed in the art of war?

Thus spoke the bearer of the silver bow. And Fear, who was unfazed by all these things, answered Suffering with a genuine calmness that displayed her assured control over the present danger.

These are the words of the Dark Lord, Azazel,

Who bestowed the art of war to earthly mortals and heavenly deities;

Studying its innermost secrets and fathoming its most veiled mysteries.

Nothing of war is hidden from him and he imparted that wisdom to us.

If we know ourselves and we know our enemy,

We need not fear the result of a hundred battles.

What enables the wise sovereign to strike and conquer,

Achieving beyond the natural range is foreknowledge.

Thus, we must examine our enemy,

(I hope you at least know thyself).

We must meditate upon her weaknesses;

Discovering more than many ways to exploit them.

We must act quickly for as time passes,

Our adversary steps towards her goal without pause.

Nor must we be hasty;

For there is stupid haste in war.

We must strike swiftly,

For our enemy cannot possibly defend,

And hope to attack at the same time.

Momentum will be our friend in this war.

You say that battle is imminent.

So far this is from truth.

For while war is upon us,

We can crush our enemy without drawing the sword.

Truly you speak to the perfect alicorn.

For I, myself, clothed in terrible power,

Shall appear before her in fleshly guise

With the express intent to undo her straightaway.

Though she is brave, I do not believe she is impervious.

Though she is resolved, I believe she can be deterred.

For who in all of heaven or earth, or in the sea

Can hope to stand unafraid against the incarnation of Fear?

We must make our first move in this grand game thus:

I will strike terror in her heart.

I will come against her armed with the dark arts,

And in my genius, she will turn and flee.

For I do not believe that she is ready for the horror of battle.

I do not see the heart of a warrior,

Lusting for blood and pain and glory within this one.

Being only a child by our standards, she will run immediately.

Should this plan fail, though I see no way that it could,

We lose nothing. We have nothing left to lose.

For if our enemy is determined, she has nothing more to gain,

But if she is not meant for war, she will be defeated before she begins.

And hearing Fear’s proposal, Suffering saw that she had spoken well and told her to proceed with her plan. But they by no means departed after this, but they continued to plan out the entirety of the war; examining each foreseen obstacle and determining how they would respond to it. Their scope of the events which they saw coming branched out like a tree. They continued to do this for about a month. And when they were sure they had examined every possibility, and pondered every possible response; choosing from those responses, the most effective one, they broke and readied themselves for the events which would soon unfold before my eyes.

Meanwhile, Pinkie Pie was wasting no time in this conflict. Each day, she took a new territory for herself: With new resolve, she went to her friends who were troubled and she worked relentlessly to bring them to lasting joy. She constantly baked treats for her friends, she put on shows in the streets, and she sang beautiful and uplifting music that must have been impromptu but was so effective. And when she found that she could not fix a problem, such as a disability, she tirelessly worked the disabled pony until they saw that their condition was not nearly as bad as they made it out to be. With this change of heart, even the disabled and hopelessly barren went about their business with joy for life itself.

Her effort was so great that she barely ate or slept. Her friends saw faint signs of this and were concerned. But she said to them, “Oh thanks you guys, but just seeing you all joyful is good enough for me. Why would I waste time sleeping and eating when I can do what really makes me happy?” Nor did her efforts have a small impact. The whole town of Ponyville seemed vibrant and excited. Ponies woke up with the sun and went to work with radiance and eagerness. Everything everypony did had meaning and gave them joy. This was all being done while the Terrible Two were deliberating. She had only just conquered the whole city when they arrived.

When Fear and Suffering came to Ponyville once more, they stood upon the roof of the town hall; invisible to the eyes of all the ponies below. Suffering was shocked by the state to which the town had risen. For so long, she had prided herself in saying that all of the cities in Equestria had only ponies who walked their streets with glum dispositions; however, for the first time in ages, she saw that the inhabitants of Ponyville were generally joyful. Astonished, she shouted and blamed Fear. “What is this unthinkable sight? Do my eyes deceive me? What happened to your ‘momentum?’ We have wasted so much time! While we were planning, the mare has plowed through the region. Quickly, if we delay any longer, she may realize her victory and campaign elsewhere.”

Yet Fear was still calm and unsurprised. “Peace, Suffering; this was to be expected. Yes, while we spent our time in calculation, our enemy has been on the warpath. Because of this, it may appear that she has won the day; that we are now on the defensive and can barely hope to stop her advance. Yet momentum is not all that wins a war. In war, victory can never be truly ensured. We can only secure ourselves against defeat. This is done through lengthy deliberation. The opportunity for victory will be provided by the adversary. In short, wars are not won by ingenious strategies but instead are lost by stupid mistakes.

“While it may appear that we are losing this war, the truth is far from what one can simply see in the present. To grasp victory, we must read many moves into the game. The general who loses a battle engages first and then seeks victory, but the general who wins a battle makes many calculations ere the battle is fought. The mare has not spent a minute on scheming. Therefore, to synthesize these maxims, she is bound to make a mistake and present us with the opportunity for victory which we will seize. We, however, will make no mistakes and therefore have put ourselves beyond the possibility of defeat. Thus, things are going exactly according to plan.”

At this, Suffering calmed herself. “I suppose that you are in the right. Territory can be regained but time cannot. Are we ready to make our first move?”

Fear answered, “The board is set and the pieces are ready to advance. The queen awaits the command of the king.”

“Go then and secure our victory early.”

Hearing this, Fear let herself drop from the height of the edifice. On the way down, she released the magic which kept her unnoticed and appeared to all those in Ponyville. When she approached the ground, she spread her wings and the intensity of the sound was heard throughout the city. She landed and shook the ground; breaking some stones in the paved road in the process.

The citizens of the town, seeing her terrible appearance and conspicuous entrance, screamed loudly and began to run amuck. They tried to flee, but in the confusion, did nothing more than run around in circles. With a smug grin on her face, the black alicorn strode through the chaos which she had created in search of her target. For a few moments she enjoyed hearing the shrieks and screams of bloody murder. Then she passed in front of a running filly who had a light cerulean coat and a white mane. A red glow formed around her horn. She grabbed the little earth pony with her magic and forced her to face her. Being compelled to stare into the eyes of Fear, she screamed louder and began to sob.

Fear ignored the pitiful filly’s lack of composure and asked her, “Where is the one that they call Pinkie Pie?” The filly looked as though she could barely breathe, much less speak. Nonetheless, her captor commanded her. “Tell me where she is and I won’t have to break open your mind.” Yet, as expected, the helpless foal could do nothing more than stutter incoherent syllables.

To this, the terrorizing mare said, “As you wish.” She lifted the filly up higher with magic and forced the frightened earth pony to stare; holding open her eyes. Fear’s pupils dilated and the glow around her horn began to change in color from red to black. As I saw this, I felt a chill run up my spine, for I had an idea of what was about to happen. The filly seemed to anticipate this as well and began to shriek louder than ever.

Yet before the worst happened, Fear heard a voice above the commotion of the crowd. “Hey, Black Snooty, put her down. She didn’t do anything to you.”

Hearing the familiar voice, the mistress of dread dropped the filly who ran off the instant she touched the ground. She looked to her left to find none other than Pinkie Pie who had challenged her. “Ah, so you come to me of your own accord. Good, you saved me the trouble of prying out memory after memory to find you.”

“Why are you being so mean? You scared everybody half to death and now you’re making fillies cry. What kind of pony are you?”

“The better question would be ‘Who are you?’” She corrected. Then the panic-bringer took two mighty leaps. On the first, she jumped to Pie and grabbed her by the skin of her neck. And on the second, she leapt outside of the stampeding crowd.

“Hey, what are you doing? Where are we going?” Pinkie asked.

Fear made one last mighty leap and arrived outside of the sound of the uproar. “Pardon me for handling you so, but I thought it best that we exit the noise.” She placed Pinkie on the ground.

Not in the least bit disturbed by her great display of strength, Pinkie responded, “Well, everybody wouldn’t be going crazy if you hadn’t done that.”

“It was a means to an end. In doing so, I have robbed them temporarily of happiness and have acquired a moment with you.”

The pink pony was caught off-guard. “What…”

The mother of fright raised her voice. “Listen well Pinkie Pie. I have come with a message to you. While you have declared war upon my colleague and I, we are offering you peace.” She stretched out her huge wings again and there was a great flurry of wind. “We have ruled over this world since many years before you were born. And we will keep our throne until the end of days. How like a wave we swept upon this world! We conquered until there was nothing left to conquer. Many opposed us but all failed. All those who dared stand before us were sent to oblivion. Their names were not remembered; for we blotted them out of the histories. Yet here you are facing us as though you were the first. Because of this, I have come with a warning of what will happen if you continue with your folly.”

Then a black aura glowed around her horn again. Suddenly, the scene of Ponyville around them was gone. It was replaced by a huge cemetery. Hundreds of white tombstones were lined up across an open field. I recognized what I was seeing. They had seemed to have transported to a place in West Equestria. “Ah,” I said. “This is an illusion.”

Fear spoke once again in a powerful voice. “Behold, little mare. This is what became of those who stood against our might in the early years. In the beginning, the citizens of Equestria battled against us as a whole. But we broke them with no more effort than it takes to snap a twig. You may recognize this place. This is the great cemetery outside of Fillydelphia, where all those ponies who perished in the great war are buried. If an army could not defeat us, then how can you hope to do so?”

Once more, Fear’s horn glowed with energy and the scene around them changed again. They were standing in the town square in the center of Canterlot. In the middle of the square appeared to be an execution site with a single wooden post surrounded by fencing. Crowded around the fencing were many ponies who looked down at the scene in morbid horror. There were apparitions of Fear and Suffering standing before a stallion who was shackled to the post. He had many open wounds which looked like they were inflicted by a whip and he had many welts and bruises all over his body inflicted by rods. “Look once more.” The winged unicorn said to the element of Laughter. “There have been many like you who have tried to change the world.” Suffering’s apparition thrust her spear into the stallion who groaned loudly and died instantly. “They all failed as this one did. For three years he made his friends happy as you now are. When we asked him to stop, he ignored us. So we did away with the thorn in our side. This story has repeated itself time and time again over the centuries. Every now and then another like him arises like a sickness upon our world. And you are the latest of these diseases.

“Heed my warning Pinkie Pie. Accept my mercy before it is too late. For although you believe that you have made an impact upon this world, your efforts have been fruitless. You will fail ultimately in any case. Even if we left you to your business you would still fail. For after your death, there would be no one else to continue your work. Yet we are not so patient as to wait for that. If you do not surrender now, just as we have with every other like you, we will strike you down. With our terrible might we will fight against you. With our great weapons we will annihilate you and your life will not be remembered. Give up; for there is no shame in admitting defeat to immortal goddesses. All we require is that you cease your fruitless actions, and spend your time doing other, more useful tasks. All we desire is that you will leave us to our work, and we will not destroy you.”

The alicorn finished, her voice echoing as though they were surrounded by walls. These certainly were words that were demoralizing. As a mortal, I would have given up then and there. Yet I knew that Pinkie was better than that. The blissful mare was not discouraged in the least. Rather, she began to laugh. She giggled at first, but soon she could not control herself and burst into a fit of laughter until tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Fear was agitated by this. “What is so funny?” She asked with a booming voice.

“You, silly.” She again struggled to stop laughing. “You’re trying to scare me. [She broke for laughter again.] If you wanted to hurt me you would have already.” She went on for about twenty seconds but she finally was able to control herself. She sighed happily and continued. “I know that I’m gonna to die someday, but that’s no reason not to make everypony joyful until then. In fact, it makes the smiles now so much more extra special because I’m going to die. They make everything worth all the work I do.”

Both Fear and I were awestruck. Not only did she have the audacity to say that she could not be harmed by Fear, which was shocking enough. But then she spoke of her impending doom as though it made everything better. My mind could not process this and I suspect neither could the enemy’s because she just stood there; staring at Pinkie with a blank expression. Pinkie was simply incorruptible. I was finally realizing it. There was literally nothing that one could say that would make her unhappy or give up her pursuit of the prize. It was as if the part of her brain that registered unhappiness was not working properly. But that was not the case, because she was giving sound, logical reasoning behind her beliefs. The very idea that a person like this could exist was simply unfathomable.

Finally, Fear was able to do something. The world around them returned to normal again and they were standing in the streets of Ponyville. Slowly, her visage regained her usual, calculative norm. She turned heel and walked away. As she did so, without looking back she said, “We will see you on the battlefield Pinkie Pie. I will remember to pick out some nice roses for your unmarked grave.”

Pinkie retorted with an excited tone. “Well if you put followers on it, then won’t it be marked?”

Hearing this, Fear yelled out in anger and disappeared from mortal sight. Again, she stood before Suffering who was also watching. The white alicorn asked patronizingly, “I suppose this engagement did not go as planned?”

“That was no engagement. It was strictly diplomacy.” She said, trying to keep calm. “We have lost no ground. There was a chance that it would work and it just so happens that it did not. There is nothing we can do.” Saying this, the anger in the alicorn’s voice softened. “We still have the plan. We will operate as we strategized. We will win this war even if we must fight to win it.”

Suffering glanced to her left and the asked, “Does this mean that the opening ceased?”

“Strictly speaking, no. The opening does not end until hostilities occur.”

Suffering pointed. “What do you call that then?”

Pinkie Pie was with the whole town who had gathered around her. The crowd praised her loudly, saying that she had laughed in the face of danger. They asked her how she was able to do it, and she answered as though it was obvious. “Well, duh! The best way to beat the scary things is just to laugh at them, because then you realize that you don’t have anything to be scared of.” They shouted as one unit and declared that they would be as brave as lions with her until she had victory over this proclaimed enemy. Then Pinkie broke into a song, whose words were easy to follow and the entire town sung with her happily.

Fear's voice betrayed that she was annoyed and enraged. She lowered her volume to a deadly whsiper. “A thousand plagues be on that mare.”

As if just to further aggravate her, Suffering drew an arrow across her silver bow and loosed it at Pinkie in the same way she had against Sugar Song. Yet the arrow was stopped in midair and dissipated.

Next Chapter: The Middlegame: Foolishness Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours