Applebloom led the initial charge against the outskirts of the Caribou camp. Outfitted in her apple-red plate, she looked like an ancient pony spirit of war, screaming a battle cry as she burst through the smoke and debris of the flaming airships. Behind her came the rest of her pony-at-arms, halberds and swordpoles jutting from their battle saddles. Mail and plate glistened in the fire light, and a feral smile broke out on Applebloom’s muzzle; they looked like a glimmering, metallic wave. Just far more deadly. Turning forward, Applebloom adjusted the aim of her halberd; the iron blade had been beaten down from one of the Acre’s old plows. A bit of irony, on the behalf of an old proverb Granny had told them. Granny…

The old mare had been unable to handle the stress of the initial bombardment. The first shock wave had stopped her old, frail heart cold, and she’d never come back. Applebloom and the Crusaders had burned her on a pyre, in the Old Pony way, deep in the Everfree, and scattered her ashes in the river. Applebloom had not bothered to ask Twilight to bring her back. Granny wouldn’t have wanted to see Equestria this way. Of course, none of them truly did…

“To the left!” One of the chargers roared out; Applebloom whipped her head about.

Twenty Caribou were gazing fearfully skyward; several were shining large, bolted searchlights up into the sky, while others had their magical grips on their breech-loading rifles. With the chaos and commotion of the collapsing airships, and the added din of small cannons firing into the sky, none of the soldiers could hear the charge. Tensing her hind legs, Applebloom launched her smaller form off a sloping piece of steel. Just on a stroke of luck, the targeted Caribou glanced up, eyes widening in terror, the split second before the halberd carved his skull in two gory halves. Screams and gurgles lanced through the din of the fiery night as the ponies struck, blades piercing flesh and punching through leather uniforms like they weren’t even there. The searchlight crew never knew what hit them, and the surrounding Caribou seemed stunned, watching the carnage unfold with horrified eyes. A halberd smashed the searchlight, the brilliant beam of light fading away, leaving nothing to see the ponies by but for fire light and the red, gleaming light of death’s-eyes.

Applebloom’s teeth flashed red in the light. For Granny.
*************************

Sweetie Belle smirked as she sauntered her way into the Caribou barracks, horn glimmering with magic. A roar rocketed from the back of the bunkroom, and several rifled bullets slammed into Sweetie’s shield. A flicker of annoyance ran through the mare’s mind, but she didn’t let it show on her muzzle. Poise is everything, as Rarity would say. Rarity… Music began to whisper through the barracks; a deep, tribal beat, fast-paced and sinister; the Caribou in the barracks, three young bucks in officer’s uniform, blanched and frantically attempted to reload their weapons, fumbling with their magic.

“Now, now,” Sweetie whispered softly, “None of that now.”

Sweetie Belle had learned about magic and its effects during her time in the Equestrians wastes. One important piece of knowledge, and a school of magic that she had discovered was her special talent, was auditory magic. Harmonics. And the basic knowledge of harmonics taught that all things- whether they be living, dead, undead, or inanimate- have a frequency. With a pulse of her horn, the bucks howled in pain and shock, their wooden-stocked rifles exploding around them. One buck went down in a heap, scrabbling at his eyes and yowling, while the others pressed back against the walls in terror. One, a silver-eyed buck, darted his magic towards a pistol on his belt, yanking it up… and screaming as the gunpowder exploded, blowing off a decent chunk of his left antler rack.

“I said,” Sweetie snapped, voice verberating like a discordant violin, “None of that. Somepony might get hurt.”

The two mostly uninjured bucks exchanged glances with each other, and then over at their fallen comrade. Silver-eyes glanced back at Sweetie Belle, defiance in his eyes.

“Let us go, pony,” he demanded in surprisingly passable Equestrian, “And w-we can forgive this-”

“No.”

To Silver-eyes, the denial was simple, soft even. To his uninjured partner, however, it felt like a thousand needles had been driven into his hooves at once, and he squalled in agony, falling to his side. Silver-eyes yelped, barking a frantic question to him in Caribou before looking back to Sweetie Belle, eyes wide. The mare was smiling softly, maroon eyes glinting in the bright gas lights of the room.

“We have far too much to do, my dear. I have a song for you, in fact. Would you like to hear it?”

And so the screams began.
***************

“ENOUGH!” Silver-eyes screamed, voice raw and choked, “Please, in the name of Ash’ei, enough!”

Sweetie Belle blinked, voice dying mid-sentence, much to the relief of the blinded buck. All three Caribou were crumpled to the floor of the dirty barracks, massive body shaking and sobbing in agony, though there was nary a mark on the lot of them. Not on the outside, at least. Her mane, formerly tied back in a bun for her helmet, had fallen loose during her “performance,” bangs hanging low in front of her gleaming eyes and twisted muzzle. With a crunch of broken glass, Sweetie stepped forward, and Silver-eyes paled as her muzzle opened again.

“Enough?” Sweetie hissed, voice like an obsidian knife straight to his chest, “Enough!?”

“H-haven’t we s-suffered enough?” Silver-eye’s squadmate White-hoof wailed, half in terror, the other in mad hope, “I-I can’t bear this! Please?!”

Silver-eyes couldn’t even gulp as he watched the mare transform in a cold, broken rage. White-hoof had asked the exactly wrong question, at exactly the wrong time.

“NO!” she roared, voice overpowering the loud snap that echoed from White-hoof’s left rear leg, and only just conquering past his answering shriek, “IT’S NOT ENOUGH!”

The breath was forced from Silver-eyes’ lungs as he was magically grabbed about the neck, lifting him bodily off the floor, then slammed into the barrack’s wall, showering them all in dust.

“Did you even have a reason WHY!?” Sweetie hissed out, “Countless sons and daughters had to DIE?!”

Glass levitated off the floor, tinkling in the gas light as it sliced through the air. Silver-eyes stared dumbly as his right forehooves fell away in a spray of blood.

“Can you even comprehend the PAIN?!” she was yelling at them, White-hoof’s shrieks rising with her volume.

“How about when your own have died!”

A pulse of magic, and Silverline’s screams were cut off with a meaty crunch.

“Or when your soul is frozen!”

Cold rushed up Silver-eye’s chest, and he screamed hoarsely at the shock. He fell back against the wall as the magic released him, staring wide-eyed into the mare’s grief-induced, enraged eyes.

“When your heart is broken, a thousand times!”

The bunks around the two bucks shattered and splintered, the jagged ends turning towards them like shattered missiles.

“Is that enough?”

Outside the barracks, the outer wall was pierced by a thousand shards of wood, all coated in gleaming red. Nopony paid it any mind. Nor did they mind the cloaked pony who stormed away from the scene with a teary trail. None but an orange-coated pony, who flipped a torch into the tomb before fluttering quickly after the cloaked pony, into the dead city.

Author's Notes:

Okay, ONE! No, this is not the end of the battle, not by a long-shot.

TWO! Yes, I know Sweetie Belle's lines seem a tad forced. They're lyrics, and it's actually apart of that particular brand of magic.

THREE! That scene was inspired by Enough, by Disturbed. Great song. I do not own, or any of the lyrics I used in that scene.

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