The whip bit deeply, but Twilight Sparkle had long since learned to hide any reaction to the snap. Her body flinched only from the force of the blow, and she made not a move to wipe up the blood that trickled across her flank and belly. To do so would take her attention away from the face of the statue Twilight was pain-stakingly forming with a chisel in her hoof, and mallet in mouth. But deep down, in the little care of Twilight Sparkle that still felt, she screamed. She screamed, and screamed, and...

Twilight tapped ever so softly with her mallet, and a fleck of stone fell away from the wide, magnanimous smile of the marble statue of her master, Magister Ellik Oson. The unicorn dared not move, dared not breath. If her strike was wrong, the lash would let her know. If she had more to do, the lash would remind her. Instead, a fiery lance of red-hot agony lit up her body; Twilight barely, just barely, managed to keep herself absolutely still as the healing magic washed over her body, knitting the whip wounds closed. It would not due for Twilight to look worse for wear before her night in the Stables, after all. She was finally ready to breed again, her body stabilized from the last difficult birthing, her first. Her colt had been larger than most, having been bred from a stock of pure-blood draft ponies, and Twilight's body was small and compact compared to other unicorns. It had taken quite a bit of work, and healing magic, to save them both, and get Twilight back to looking perfect. Absolutely... perfect.

The purple unicorn's eye twitched once, and she prayed to the nothingness that her Master had not noticed.

"Very well, my dear, you have done... adequately."

Another twitch.

"One day they will be perfect. And perhaps then I'll let you see that silly little colt you blather on about. You have ten minutes to get to your Stable."

Bowing and mumbling the needed honorifics, Twilight slowly turned from the bloated, grotesque body of her master, and his smooth, sinuous voice. Turned and trotted, slowly as not to offend, out of the darkened hall and its cabinets full of imperfect centaur statuettes.

******************************

The crowds of centaurs sounded like a freight train roaring by at full blast, and Rainbow Dash had to lower her ears to try and tune some of it out. Her body ached and bled in several different places, despite the ancient armor they allowed her to wear, collected from each of her wins. Rainbow Dash was an experienced gladiator, and her body was covered in hammered plates of steel and leather. Her teacher had a wicked sense of humor, and took great care to make sure Rainbow's helmet was cut in a way to allow her namesake mane to fly free in the wind. Her cape, a garment that got in the way and gave her opponents just enough edge to make the fights interesting, was white-and-blue, with Rainbow Knight emblazoned on the back. No amount of blood or dust could ever cover it up, the Magister's magic made sure of that.

To her left, a larger pegasi mare panted heavily, down on one knee; Rainbow Dash's fighting partner, Fluttershy. She, a master of the bladed staff, while Rainbow was a master of the wing and hoof-blades. Fluttershy was dressed in white chain-and-robes, her pink mane flying tattered in the wind of the arena; every bit of her was coated in blood, both her's, and those of the broken pile of fur, blood, and bone in front of her. Gore dripped thickly down the haft of the staff, and Rainbow couldn't see the face of her friend. Her hood took care of that, and Rainbow Dash was still fighting her opponent. The brawny white pegasus was deceptively fast, and his single-edged blade, perched in his mouth, was biting deeply into Rainbow's blades. He eyed her dejectedly; both knew what must be done to come out alive.

A flap of her clipped wings launched Rainbow Dash forward, but she didn't scream. The crowd didn't like that; they booed and hissed, chanting for the tell-tale battle scream of the pegasi that they got from other pegasi gladiators. Indeed, most matches were loud enough even to beat out the chants of the crowds: screeches of the fighters, of the metal contacting other metal, the meaty thunk and schlick of a blade sliding home. The brittle gasps of a pegasus dying on the sands of the arena. Rainbow Dash trotted slowly to a stop, head down as she listened to the heavy thud of her brother of the sky hitting the ground, dying with a pathetic, ignoble whimper. The crowds roared their disapproval; they had demanded a prolonged battle, the gladiators letting the battles drag out to gain further fame and "glory." The teachers often gave them extra food for this, or even time among the Stables, letting themselves be pleased for once, instead of the other way around. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy never cared. They never had, not since the start of their gladiatorial careers five years prior, at the edge of twelve. The day the two had been forced to rip another pegasus' throat out with their teeth just to survive, while dozens of other pegasi foals had been butchered around them. With a pair of faint snorts, the two mares turned away from the roaring crowd, slowly making their way back into the darkness of the inner arena.

Armor and weapons were shed onto the blood-soaked, sandy ground with a clatter, not a care given to their up-keep. Both mares looked over at each other. To Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy looked horrible. She was practically green with sickness, her eyes clouded and teary from horror. Her mouth dropped open slowly, allowing the accumulated blood from the haft of her polearm to drain out. Her barrel, heaving and covered in scars, tensed every few breaths; she had two broken ribs, that much was easy to tell. To Fluttershy, however... Rainbow Dash looked worse than her. Far, far worse. Her ruby eyes were clouded, and seemed almost black. Her entire cyan body was stained with blood, matted into her fur and pushed into every nook and crevisse. Her wings were a horrific mess, having never known a preening; Rainbow Dash could not bring herself to preen the useless appendages. To taste the blood anymore than she had to. But it was her face that tore at the soul of her battle-sister. Rainbow Dash's self-loathing went down to her core; bruises from her own hooves lined her muzzle and cheeks, and she held a perpetual, self-focused scowl. She was a traitor. A damned, murdering traitor.

When the doors mercifully closed, finally blacking out the sight of each other, the two mares, as they did after every duel, fell to their barrels, lifted up their heads, and screamed into the blackness.

**********************

Pinkie Pie screamed her lungs out the second she was secured firmly in the Stable stocks and harness. They were dark, cramped spaces, smelling of sweat, fear, and mating. Rarity hated it; she hadn't it more than any place she had been to in her life. And, being the pretty little mare that she was, Rarity Belle had been brought by her master all over the Equestrian Province to service other masters and their pony pets. But this place... Rarity shuddered in sympathy at the scream from the stall next door. She knew what it meant. They all knew what it meant. In the very front of the cage was a small green, glowing screen. Usually it simply read Estrus or Non-Estrus. But there was one other setting. The hated, dreaded word. Pregnant.

"Who could bring a foal into this?" Rarity whispered, though she knew the answer before she said it.

They all could. Pinkie Pie could. She could...

Tears dripped down onto the console.

"Just hold on, Pinkie Pie," came the quiet voice of Applejack, though by all rights she was most likely yelling.'

The Stables were practically sound-proofed. The centaurs did not like their sluts to make noise, and the stallions coming in on rotation... hearing the mares they were raping had sent more than one good-hearted stallion into a suicidal episode. Rarity did not hate the stallions. She truly didn't. They had no more say in this than any of the mares. She couldn't force any enthusiasm on their part, though. Indeed, she couldn't even move in the restraints. She could only lie back and take it. And take it. And take it. Till the next time she would see the dreaded P word, and scream just as loudly as Pinkie Pie was now, broken-bodied and broken-hearted.

There was a soft beep, and Rarity closed her eyes even as a thick appendage speared into her- slowly, so definitely a stallion. She sniffled, only once. The day had only started, and crying herself to exhaustion would just make it all worse. She had to be strong, for herself, and for Sweetie Belle, once she was returned home later that night. Next year, Sweetie Belle would begin to go into estrus, and would be put into the Stables alongside her sister. Rarity had to prepare her, and herself, for that day. She grit her teeth slightly, gut rolling as macabre thoughts overtook her fixation on the rape.

*****************************

Twilight Sparkle shuddered as she stepped out of the Stables that night, her hooves shuffling across the dusty ground, head refusing to lift, in both exhaustion, and a healthy dose of self-hatred. There had been a tinge of pleasure this time. Just a tiny bit... but more than enough to get her soul writhing in disgust of herself. Despite Applejack's soothing words, or even Fluttershy's hugs, Twilight Sparkle felt like a traitor. A slut. A whorse. She could only pray that it had been a stallion, and not one of the centaur. Especially if she had yet another foal. Half-breeds were always massive. If she could barely handle a draft horse foal...

Bile rose in Twilight's throat. How could she bring another foal into... this? Twilight raised her head sadly. The Centaur had created their capital on the side of the mountain, on the very corpse of old Canterlot. Steel and glass rose up alongside the burned-out hulks of marble that the Grand Magister kept intact- most likely a show of power over the old Equestrian civilization. From her vantage point, Twilight could see the sprawling modern metropolis Asherein had become, with towers of smoke rising from its factories, helicopters to and fro from its heliports, and screams from the ever-running Arena. Lights sprang up from the School, the teaching place and old rookery of the pegasi foals; next door to that was the Academy, the teaching place of Centaur children, where they were indoctrinated and trained to be soldiers. There were only two classes in Centaur culture. The Magisters, like Twilight's master, who wielded magic and ran the Empire, and the Soldiers. Centaurs needed no crafters, no merchants. All their needs were watched over by their slaves. Millions of replaceable, trainable puppets to do the dirty work of the Centaur, to pop out more ponies, and to die.

Twilight slowly raised a hoof to her forehead, to the smooth, hard patch were her horn would be. Would be, had the Centaur not sliced it off seconds after she was born, just like every unicorn since the fall. Word of mouth was that Canterlot had been the crown jewel of unicorns, the most magical city in Equestria before the Invasion. Its buildings had been shaped by the arcane, metal and marble fused together as one, nearly indestructible. It was certainly still intact, while all other cities from the old times were long since bull-dozed over and built upon. The Magister's Spire, some claimed, was the old palace of the twin sisters. The diarchs of Equestria, Celestia and Luna. Twilight peered sadly up at the full moon that shined overhead, silver moonbeams glinting coldly off the steel and glass of the Centaurs.

"Why did you leave us?" she whispered to the night sky, tears blurring her vision, "Why did you let us become this?"

Lightning burned through Twilight's spine, and she fell to her barrel as grief ripped through her soul. Tears poured thickly from her closed eyes, and it was all she could do to not sob out loud; no doubt it would disturb a master somewhere. They always reacted strangely to strong emotions from ponies; ponies were trained from birth to be perfectly emotionless around the Centaurs.

"I can't d-do this a-anymore," Twilight blubbered out, grinding her hornless head on the asphalt below herself, "I-I can't carve... a-anymore statues."

Her hoof skittered across the chemical-smelling ground, sending a small shower of sparks. "I-I can't keep hoping to s-see my colt a-alive. I c-can't listen to my f-friends c-cry anymore.  S-screaming in their sleep..."

Ponies lived in big camps, often sharing large groups to preserve warmth in the mountain cold. It was where the six ponies had first met, in their herd, doing everything in their power to survive day to day.

"We're w-withering away," Twilight whispered, glaring up at the moon, no idea why she was so angry with a celestial body, "Are w-we destined for t-this? Are we just... s-slaves?"

Twilight slowly rose to her hooves, eyes widening slightly as they dropped to the bleak, dark asphalt. Something cold, like ice, gripped at her heart. Was that it? If the sisters were real, had they left because this was the destiny of ponykind? She took a slow step forward, then another. Had they angered them? Become too jaded, too foolish? More steps, closer and closer to the un-guarded edge of the terrace. An one hundred foot drop, straight down. Had ponies angered their goddesses, and lost their magic in turn? Their souls? Their futures?

"Is this it?"

Closing her eyes tightly, Twilight grit her teeth, tensed every muscle in her body... and began to gallop. Gallop forward with every bit of her speed, all of her power and bitterness and self-loathing. Closer, so close to the edge, to the sweet kiss of the night air. If she jumped hard enough, she could miss even the terrace below, go clean off the mountain. Save a pony the trouble of cleaning up her mess. So they could die faster in some other way. Screaming her heart out, Twilight leaped.

Silver light, roaring like a great wave on the coast, caught her mid-flight, flinging Twilight Sparkle back to the asphalt, somehow pillowing her body from the rough, unforgiving ground. Twilight cried out in surprise, limbs clutching instinctively at a large, heavy object thrust against her out of nothingness, body rolling a time or two before finally coming to a stop. Twilight snapped her eyes open, looking around in a panic for whomever had caught her. But no one was there; all the lights in the area were off, all but for that of the full moon, which seemed... duller. Almost exhausted, spent. Only when she was sure she was alone did Twilight peer down. And she stared.

The Book of Equestria: Love and Friendship.

It was a massive book, nearly as thick as Twilight's barrel, yet it was somehow incredibly light, bound in thin strips of ebony wood, and stamped in gold. It was the first book that Twilight had ever held that was not bound in leather, and she drank in the novelty like a drowning pony. It represented life... yet danger. Twilight was absolutely certain that, should a Centaur catch her with it, she could be killed on the spot. Books were a Centaur novelty, not something the average pony was allowed to read, much less own. With a trembling hoof, Twilight slowly opened the pages, awed on the spot. Equestrian. It was written in Equestrian Proper; Twilight had managed to teach it to herself over the years, always in secret, with some old manuscripts her master had kept around. But unlike the prim, proper script of the manuscripts, what was written at the very front of the book was seemingly hoof-written. It was sloppy, seemingly done in haste... and it would change Twilight Sparkle's life from then on out.

Twilight Sparkle,

What you hold in your hooves is the collected musings, writings, spell books, and mago-mechanical documents of Equestria; most importantly, of myself and my sister. I am sorry... but you cannot kill yourself, Twilight. You have to great a future ahead of you. I can only apologize. We can only apologize. One day, I hope beyond hope that I may beg my forgiveness of you in person. But as of this moment, time is of the essence. Magic must come back to Equestria. Love must return. Friendship... Turn the first page... and I swear in my name... you will have the power to save yourself, your colt, and your friends. I know that I have no right to ask this of you... but I'm begging you to trust me. Take the plunge.

Sincerely and with hope,

Princess Luna Aerithias Celene

For a very long moment, the longest in Equestrian history, Twilight Sparkle sat still. A gleam lit her forehead... and the first page of the Rebellion turned, alight in a lavender aura.