This fanfiction is a loose retelling of an actual blog created by the Candlekeeper, called Hurt/Heal. This fanfiction contains foul language, violence, (fanservice), and decent amounts of blood. If you are under the age of 13 you should not read this. Read at your own risk.

Begins Chapter 26

(Princess Luna’s POV)

I can’t even believe that Epic is dead. It feels like it was no more than a few minutes ago she was leading my army with confidence and power. Now I look down at her corpse, already reeking of the stench of death. It may have felt like she was alive just a few minutes ago, in reality it has been two days. Time is always hard for me, I’ve lived so long that months feel like days, centuries like years. Lives flash by before my eyes, I can barely believe how very short the lives of mortals are. Still, I cannot brood on such things. Today is the day of the memorial service, to bury the dead, the soldiers that Silverheart killed in cold blood. It makes me sick. Sick that I ever let trash like him into my Republic. I misplaced my trust and it ended with Epic receiving in her brain. I’ve had two sleepless days, that fact haunting me. I only wish that things could have been different.

I stand at the head of the funeral procession. Many of those in the train of equine wear white. The custom states that if a funeral is held at night, all the mourners must wear white, to symbolize stars. I always thought that was a load of bull. Just another naive custom that my foolhardy sister put into motion. Yet, my soldiers wear all white, despite me telling them that they didn’t need to. Even though they are loyal to me, they still follow my sister’s customs. I banish this from my mind. It is something too minor to get worked up about.

The train slowly begins to trudge forward, moving agonizingly slow. I only wish to get done with this memorial service quickly; I need to get started on a response to be sister’s cowardly attack. I respected Epic as a pony, but her death needs to be avenged immediately. The train finally reaches the mass grave where we bury all of our fallen. Some of the mourners glance nervously at the moon. I glance up myself and see why they are concerned. The moon is a sickly shade of red, the crimson color of blood. A rare sight in Equestria as it only occurs when I am extremely angry. Some that know this tidbit of information glance at me and raise their eyebrows. I glower back at them and they quickly break their inquiring glance.

I scan the graveyard, numerous crosses and grave markers blanket the area. Thousands upon thousands bodies lay six feet underneath the dirt. I walk up to a ramshackled wooden cross, worn down by the wind and the rain. I know exactly who marked this grave. It seems that even a despicable soul like Unknown’s can show a slight amount of compassion. He has some honor in him, yet there is very little of it. I shake my head in disapproval and canter over to the pre-dug holes that will be the final rest for the ponies that were lost in the skirmish.

One of the gaps in the earth has a large stone cross marking it. The craftsmanship looks slightly rushed, but it is the most impressive marker in the entire graveyard. I glance at the marked wooden slab and I spy a few lines of words. The top line states Epic’s name, her birth date, and her death date. The second line reads: “Good soldier, get some rest.”

I had thought that it was a rather clichéd obituary, but Bluelighting insisted. Some other ponies wanted to write her last words on the plaque. That I could not allow, as her last words weren’t very memorable. Besides that, I had always thought last words were for fools that never had enough to say in their lives. I know when the chips are down and I’m about to draw my last breath, I won’t my oxygen on pointless words. I’d want to take a snapshot of the world around me and take it with me. Something beautiful to hold onto when I spiral into the blackness. I’ve done plenty in this world, last words will not be needed.

That said, I will never have to be in a situation where dying words are relevant. I am immortal and I will not allow my treacherous sister the satisfaction of defeating me. She will be the poor soul that will utter foolhardy words on her last putrid, retched breath.

I yield next to the edge of the empty grave. I glance down at the six foot gap in the earth yawning in front of me. I begin to think about what would happen in my own death. They would lay me six feet down. Would they remember me? I would like to think so, but maybe that’s just my vainglorious personality talking. Nevertheless, I do not have time to brood over the off chance that I do die. I have to get through an actual funeral first.

At the front of the line, they carry in a pitch black wood coffin, made of the innards of a walnut tree. It glistens in the blood red moonlight, giving it a garish look, a look that makes is seem like it and everything else is drowning in blood. I look up at the sky once again. The crimson moon dyeing the entire sky red. Red like the blood of our fallen. Tears slowly begin to trickle down out of my tear ducts, leaving tracks in the grit and the dust that coats my fur. So many have lost their lives. Lost their lives to a blasphemous cause, lost their lives to an unrelenting menace. Lost their lives to a killer that never seems to sleep. War doesn’t take prisoners, it leaves a wake of blood and death, leaving nothing left. Fueled by our own fickle nature, it rages on. Unremitting, undying, and uncaring.

The pallbearers set the black coffin next to the edge of the two meter deep hole. One pony walks forward with some sort of piece of machinery. I have no idea what it is or what it does, but they set it over the hole. After some toil they have the coffin set in it. Then one pony in the group starts to crank a lever. Slowly the coffin is lowered six foot depth. It eventually reaches the bottom, hitting the dirt with a small thunk. The machinery is life back up and removed from the grave. A group gathers around the gap in the earth. Some cry, others mutter silent prayers, and still others show no emotion. These ponies have learned well. Show no emotion, it makes you weak. Finally, someone listens to my teachings.

After the preacher gets through the ceremony, he closes his book and back up a few steps. A few ponies take up a hymn, low and somberly. A few more ponies burst into the throes of sobbing, salty, bitter remorse falls like rain out of their windows to the soul. I stand tall and stalwart, I cannot show any feeling in front of my soldiers. If I do not show weakness, neither will they. I cannot have too many soldiers sobbing like infants. I glance across the funeral procession and I see Bluelighting standing, looking at the stone cross. Her face is steely and her eyes burn with an unbridled rage. A rage that shows that she will burn a warpath through the Solars just to reach the traitor that killed her leader. She was always my favorite. Never showed too much emotion on the battlefield.

A few Earth pony stallions move forward and begin shoveling earth back into the hole, slowly covering the black coffin in dirt. The pastor closes his book and moves back in the group of ponies. They begin to split up and go to other pre dug holes, each for a pony that was mercilessly slain by the insidious UnknownProdigy. I leave the burial ground and head back to the main camp, sighing. “I knew Celestia was cowardly, but never this cowardly,” I think out loud, “Well...I will not let her just walk all over me and my army. I shall destroy her.”

I reach the black tents of the camp and swiftly head to the center canvas. I push open the entrance flaps and immediately head for the table in the center. The table has multiple maps and diagrams laid across it. I begin rummaging through the various papers, trying to find the only map of the Solars’ territory. I finally find a slightly yellowed chart, plotting landmarks surrounding the Solar camp. Their camp is near the hospital, allowing easy access to medical supplies and other supplies they may need. It is on a slight uphill, at the crest of the hill. Good for defense...much better than the bowl we wedged ourselves into with our last camp. Even with our artillery we cannot break through their defenses. They just pick off our soldiers from their stupid little sentry towers, cowering behind their camp walls, never going out into the front lines. They use espionage and cowardly methods to get what they want.

I look at the map, trying to find some way to attack them without failing utterly. I check and double check every possible route. Even then I still cannot find a route that we can effectively. I throw the map in frustration. It’s all pointless, there is no way for us to attack the Solar camp effectively, their sharp shooters have exceptional aim. They’ve torn up entire platoons of my soldiers before we can even get halfway up that hill. It’s a pointless mission, we’ll never reach the walls to that camp.

I trot back over to the discarded map and place is back on the table of charts. I glance at it again, expecting to have a sudden epiphany. It never comes. I sigh and leave the tent, sadly pushing open the flaps. I plod through the camp, going to the far right sentry tower. I climb up the ramshackled tower and look out at the returning mourners. A bright blue unicorn canters quickly past the rest of the grievers. She appears to be heading to the tower that I am currently stationed in. Wondering if she can see me, I wave her down. Her gaze shifts slightly and locks right onto me. Her course does not change. She is maybe a fourth of a mile away from the tower when she disappears with a flash. In less than a second she reappears next to me in the tower. “Princess…Luna…” She says, out of breath, “I speak to you…”

“Yes? What is it?” I inquiry.

“We need to attack the Solars’ camp. Now.”

I shake my head in disapproval. “No, that would be suicide. We cannot strike them quickly nor strong enough to do any real damage. We’ve lost hundreds to their obstinate snipers. I cannot lose anymore. We need enough soldiers to defend our camp.”

Blue sneers. “Yeah that did us worlds of good when we lost EpicLuna…”

“Don’t blame the sentries. Unknown is incredibly furtive. He is crafty and cunning, he tricked all of us, not just the sentries. Blue scoffs. “Cunning? Cowardly is the word you should use. He is not wise, he just gets lucky sometimes.

I raise my eyebrows. “Really? Managing to face down hundreds of hostile soldiers and go on to come out alive is more than just lucky.”

Blue rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, Princess Luna. Now, do you have any ideas about how we are to attack those hideous Solars?"

I turn away from Blue and look out towards the horizon. It may be dark, but I know that the sun will rise in about three hours. I know that the night is our only advantage. If we are to strike, we will have to strike now. “Get me the best unicorn mages you can find.. We’re going to need a very large teleport.”

*      *      *

After about another half hour, we have gathered every unicorn in the camp together. They stand outside of our massive blob of soldiers. Numerous heavy artillery units are set up inside in the circle, awaiting the teleport. I stand at the point, standing at point. I will be at the front of my army, fighting in the front lines with my soldiers. No more fighting with pawns, the queens have come out to play. I look back at the loitering mass of living equine and a sense of dread sets in. ‘It’s not enough,’ a voice in my head says, ‘You will fail.’

A horrible chill runs down my spine after this disembodied voice finishes speaking. I glance back again, exponentially more nervous than I was before. Maybe this voice is right, maybe I’m leading all of my soldiers like lambs to the slaughter. I shake my head to banish these treacherous thoughts. I cannot let such thoughts get to me, because if they do, I’ve already failed my loyal followers. I look at Blue and nod. She turns to the other unicorns bordering and lights up her horn. The others see this and their horns follow suit. Soon a magical multi-colored bubble begins forming around the mass of soldiers. I light my horn and a deep blue begins spreading through the bubble, like food coloring through water. Then with a violent flash we reappear at the base of a hill. Looking up we can see our destination, the Solar camp.

Almost immediately after teleporting in, Blue is barking orders to the artillery and the sharpshooters, trying to hastily order them into formation. After some toil she manages to set up the final artillery. She canters back to me and says: “They are ready. We should start the attack. I recommend a vicious artillery barrage to weaken the defenses. Then, after that we can send in the the foot soldiers and finally win this foolish war!” I nod slowly, not really wanting to go through with this. The voice that spoke to me might have been correct, but either way, this will be the final day of the war between the stars.

Slowly but surely, the foot soldiers form ranks, ready to march on the Solar camp. Blue stands by my side, fire burns in her eyes, the fire that drives her to crush her enemies underhoof, to hunt her enemies without mercy or remorse. It’s frightening. I’m just glad that we’re on the same side. She then barks that command that shatters the peace on this calm early morn. “FIRE!”

Cannon fire splits through the air, as all twenty-one of our guns unleash a volley of explosive, flying death. A few of the rounds sail high or low, but about ten or so shells slam into the wall. The damage is severe to the barrier keeping us out, but it still stands. Blue barks another order: “Reload!”

We can already hear sniper fire raining down on us. A few of our foot soldiers fall, but they fail to hit any of the ponies working the cannons. All twenty-one guns are reloaded and ready to fire again. “Fire!”

Another volley cuts through the air. More rounds than the previous round hit the wall, this time sections collapse. I motion to Blue to cease the firing. She barks the order: “Cease fire! Get ready to charge! Form ranks!”

All those working the artillery draw their various weapons and line up behind the already ready foot soldiers. Blue turns around and faces the enemy camp. “For the Lunar Republic!” The soldiers take up the call, turning it into a chant of sorts. It shakes the valley, the sound of tens of thousands of soldiers ready to fight, ready to strike down any that would dare oppose them. It is the most beautiful sound that I have ever heard. I draw my sword and glance at the horizon. I can already see bruising in the sky, the sun shall be up soon. I belt out the battle cry and start galloping forward. My army soon follows suit, a few even begin to overtake me. Blue quickly catches up with me and runs to my right side, matching me stride for stride, all the way up the slope. I can see the Solars massing near their walls, ready to launch a furious defensive. Then I hear a massive crashing sound shake the slope, then another, and another, fifteen in all. They have artillery too. Then another artificial thunderclap shakes the slope and I watch an area of living ponies, about two carts wide, go up in a red mist. “Holy Luna! They’re using a scatter shot shell for their cannons!” One soldiers yells, “We’ll be slaughtered!”

As he says this, another shot is fired and the area he is in is the target. Blood comes down like rain. I can hear barely Blue’s shout over the shots, “Keep going! Hold the ranks!”

I know that if this keeps going on there won’t be enough soldiers to form any lines. We are almost up the hill. Just a little more....Another shot sounds and more ponies are vaporized. Death rains down upon us, much like the blood of our fallen comrades. We finally reach the top of the hill, our forces have decimated. At least one in ten of my loyal subjects did not make it up the hill, over a thousand have already died, maybe more depending on how many sentries we killed. I assume all of the front facing sharpshooters as barely any sniper fire accompanied the scatter shot artillery. We barrel over the crest of the hill and surge past the dilapidated wall, meeting the first Solar line of defense. We easily dispatch the artillery, killing their operator. Then, the real Solar fighters move forward, and who but the UnknownProdigy leads them, determination burning in his lone eye. He screams: “Kill them all! Do not let them past! Drive them back into the dirt from whence they came!”

His pack of ponies yell out the battle cry “Celestia!” and charge, weapons ready. We met them halfway and the battlefield is immediately thrown into chaos. Weapons clash, blood seeps from open wounds, bodies collapse and fall, occasional gunfire rings through the air. And in the middle of it all, the most vicious duel of them all. Blue and UnknownProdigy cross blades, sparks flying. A thunderclap rings through the air and lightning flashes. I dispatch an oppressing Solar and take a quick look at the sky. A storm is forming over the area. It seems that the clouds are hanging over the duel of Blue and Unknown. Lightning boils and thunder rolls through the air every time their daggers clash. The hatred between the two unicorns is powerful, powerful enough to bend the very forces of nature when they meet in combat. They appear to be locked in a deadly stalemate, neither having advantage over the other. I think of going to help her, but I am interrupted by a booming voice echoing through the camp. “Sister! Face me!”

The voice is obviously Celestia’s. It surprises me as Celestia has never had her voice at its top volume before. It seems alien when Celestia, the calm and collected ruler of Equestria, uses a voice of pure hatred and rage.

I fight my way through the pack of Solars, hacking and slashing with my my blade. The sword is already stained in blood, slick with the blood of the sun worshipers. I finally burst out of the crowd and see Celestia standing before me, fully armored and look fairly pissed off. I quickly regain my footing and hold out my sword. “Celestia, you called?”

Lightning flashes through the sky and Celestia shouts again, this time saying: “No more jokes! You shall die at my blade!"

“Ah, that is where you are wrong, sister. I will not relent so easily. Now, are we going to fight, or are you planning on talking me to death?”

Celestia’s eyes are soon leaking fire from the corners. I had only seen this once before, and it was when she was extremely infuriated. A very rare sight to see. The last time she was like ended badly for everyone. She lunges at breakneck speed, her pale sword glinting in the blood red moonlight of early dawn. I have just enough time to raise my dark blade and parry the strike. As our blades a meet,a small burst of energy lights up between the metals, attempting to repel each other. The blades are sentient in a way, they know that this fight should never have happened. Try as they might, I am still the master of mine and Celestia is the proctor of hers.

Celestia draws back and attempts another strike, but this time I’m ready. I sidestep the strike and swing quickly at her blade. The strike is so powerful that is rips it from her magical grip sending it hurtling away. Celestia looks at her blade flying through that air in shock, dumbfounded that she has been disarmed. While she’s distracted I pummel her face with the flat of my blade, sending her sprawling. She attempts to rise, but my blade point is already digging into her throat. “Yield!”

Celestia spits defiance, curses my name, but I no longer care. My sister is weak and must be destroyed. I draw back by blade, bringing it to the bruising sky, ready to strike my sister down. The sun has stopped rising, time has slown down. My blade begins its descent, the sword strike that will end the war between the stars. It will all end on this, the dawn that will never come. The world shall finally see eternal night. My ultimate victory shall be complete, and I didn’t even need to turn into Nightmare Moon to do it. All of Equestria shall be mine!

Then, I feel a piece of metal push into my cervical spine. I stop my strike and prepare to alter its course, sending it to the oppressor that dares to stop my ultimate victory. I turn, sword at the ready and I see a sickly, bright green stallion standing in front of me, a flintlock pistol floating in his magical grip. “Back away from the princess, Luna,” Grovyle snarls, “Or I will make you shuffle off this mortal coil.”

I gaze into Grovyle’s eyes. I do the only thing I can, I swing my sword.

End Chapter 26


Orginal Blog Creator- The Candlekeeper

Writer- UnknownProdigy

Fanfiction's title inspiration- Guildmaster Grovyle

Main Supporter- Seaswirl10

Template Creator- Meester Tweester

Special Thanks to the EpicLuna, Bluelighting, and Guildmaster Grovyle for letting me use their usernames and OCs in this chapter.

Thanks for Reading!

 The Nameless War by UnknownProdigyjRXx5KS.png 

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PrologueThe Darkest Dawn(The Keeper of Light)The Prodigy of DeathDarkness Clouding the Keeper of LightThe MeetingThe Black DoveThe Beginning of the Battle of the StarsAn Eye for An Eye......Makes the Whole World Blind.ImbalancePlaying With FireA Star Goes DarkSecond ChancesWe're All Mad HereFriend or Foe?Dark BeginningsCursedBroken Glass and Shattered DreamsDeath and ScrewdriversBlinded by FearSelf-destructionInertiaMercilessSix Feet UnderThe Second YearStalking ShadowsCrimson MoonBlindsided(Crimson Tide)Twisted MoralsFrostbiteFragmented NightMiseryVices and VirtuesDarkened RainbowsSilver