To get through a war, a man needs something bigger than himself to fight for.
RICK REMENDER
Black Science, No. 4, February 2014
Multiple sheets of paper have been torn out before this point. Preface sheet added per request of author. Unredacted by order of Princess Celestia. No alterations to content shall be made.
- Written Record, Canterlot Royal Archives, Department of History
War.
That was the talk among some of the ranks of the Night Guard outside of Princess Luna’s chambers this evening. My delivery of her Highness’ evening spread, a collection of fresh fruits from the palace gardens and my own personal brand of baked delights, had gone about as normal as ever. A bow of courtesy, a few jokes cracked with her sly smile giving reserved chuckles in lieu of uproarious laughter, and a parting of ways. I never really cared too much for the talk among the ranks, even when I wore the armor of the Guard I found it to be not of my liking. Especially when they talked down about Celestia.
But a talk of war? Where could they have heard that I wonder. Sure, some of them were a bit too eager to talk down about the Day Guard, and even some dreamt of a day when the Night would rule all. That was always just talk, fleeting hearsay at it’s worst. This time there was something in their tone that did not sit right with me. It wasn’t the normal tomfoolery and hoof bumps, it was in hushed whispers and with a darker bite to their words. Another cell had gone rogue maybe? It wasn’t uncommon but rarely resulted in more than swift quelling and fair justice. This just felt wrong to hear, like there was some truth in their words.
But there can’t be truth in it, right? Why would war even be a question? Equestria has stood in peace for quite some time and nary a threat had shown it’s head in several years. The Crystal Kingdom was in good spirits as well if Cadance’s words were to be believed the last time we spoke, and they always are. Even Ponyville, that cursed little town that saw disasters on almost a weekly basis, had stood quiet for the last 5 or so years. So why the sudden talk of war and bloodshed?
I think it is best not to think of it for now, likely nothing will ever come of hushed rumors spoken by guards who haven’t seen action in years. Poor things must be itching to pull the trigger of a gun once more or to charge headlong with spears into enemy hordes. It puts a sour taste in my mouth just to think of something so atrocious.
For now, my leather bound friend, it’s time to think of happier times today. Celestia really wants to try that special muffin recipe she has been keeping secret from me for weeks. Maybe tomorrow will be the day I convince her to hoof it over. Maybe a bit of poison joke in mix at the next Royal Court meeting will be fitting if she doesn’t.
-The Diary of Countess Sweet Bun, Entry 164. Two Days Before The War.
I hate having to go to these accursed meetings with other nobles.
For starters, they are beyond boring, always going on about trade routes and trying to muscle their way into every circle they can find for a shred of political power. I don’t even get why I’m required to show up, other than the title Luna bestowed upon me. I didn’t really want to be a Countess, and at first I thought it was a joke. Luna, bless her heart, loves to make jokes about using her royal authority for silly things. I think it’s mainly to get on her sister’s nerve with bogus paperwork. Yet not three days later the Combined Color Guard came to my door, royal decree giving me the title in hoof. It was a bit embarrassing to be quite honest, having a Full Color Salute in the middle of my bakery.
Something troubles me about this meeting. Luna is usually distant and distracted, caring about the petty squabbles as much as I do but she makes an effort to show up. This evening she never appeared, Celestia walking to her throne at the head of the Hall of Voices alone. No announcement that she was sick or away on some royal duties in a foreign land, just a brief “My sister shall not be joining us this evening.” Celestia maybe had a faint look of concern over her own announcement but she just went on, business as usual.
Maybe I can talk to Luna after the meeting, she said last night that she wanted a fairly healthy course of my highest quality pastries for a long night ahead. I hope whatever it is that she has going on it is not weighing on her too heavily. We’ll have to see once I get to her chambers.
Great, some noble is accusing me of draining the Royal Cake funds by overcharging, again. Just another headache.
-The Diary of Countess Sweet Bun, Entry 165. 16 Hours Before The War.
I’m concerned for Luna’s wellbeing.
This is the first time in my short 4 years as the royal baker that she outright refused my nightly delivery. She wasn’t sick, or at least she didn’t look that way. Normally when she lets me into the chambers it’s with a greeting in that strange way she loves to speak, but tonight she looked at me with serious eyes and spoke to me in a tone that sent a shiver across my spine.
“I ask thou to leave me for this evening. We will not be requiring your services this night, Countess. Please go home and rest well, and I pray for your safety.”
She looked angry, upset, and a touch fearful. While she was nothing more than soft and stern with me, I could feel the weight of whatever was pressing upon her mind bearing it’s brunt on each carefully placed word. But even now I can’t really understand what she meant. Praying for my safety? Am I not safe? I don’t feel like I’m in any sort of danger or risk. I have a good job, my home is well secured in the Royal Quarters. If there was any sort of risk, the guards would deal with it before it would even reach my doorstep.
Does she know something is about to happen? What could be so concerning to her that she would need to war–The entry cuts short in a scrawling line of ink
-Diary of Countess Sweet Bun, Entry 166. Hour 0 of the War.