The Griffon War: A Soldier's Memoirs

by Dusk Quill

Chapter 10

The train car gently rocked to and fro as it made its way down the tracks. The world outside passed by in a blur to Fleethoof. It had been some time since he’d been on a train. When was the last time? When he started basic training? The luxury felt… alien.

The stallion rested his cheek against the cold glass window, staring out at the landscape of Equestria as they sped along. He almost didn’t recognize where he was anymore. The encapsulating blue mountains and rolling hills of the griffon highlands were gone, replaced by verdant fields and plains, rivers and forests. He had to admit, Equestria’s countryside was beautiful. It was no wonder the griffons were fighting tooth and nail to reclaim it.

He was instantly very much aware of the silence in the passenger car. Tearing his gaze away from the idyllic landscape, he looked out across the rows of seats. The ponies still left in his squad sat scattered about, every one as quiet as he was. Everypony was silently reflecting as well, or reclined across the bench seats, sound asleep. The entire private car had been given to them, courtesy of the train line for the returning war heroes and royalty.

War heroes. Fleethoof’s stomach turned at that term. He didn’t feel like a hero.

Across the row from him, Cadance stared out the window in perpetual tranquility. The city of Canterlot was visible off in the distance, still a ways away. It left him with too much time to think. Mixed emotions toyed with his soul. He was glad to be back, and glad to have the members of the royal family home safely.

But being home felt wrong. The silence mocked him with dark memories of gunfire and pain. Faces and images of bodies flashed in his head, pony and griffon alike. They haunted him. For the first time since he’d been deployed, the gravity of the situation was coming back to him. He felt a twinge of remorse for his actions… but they had all been necessary for survival. Surely that justified them. Didn't it?

Fleethoof looked down as his hooves, contemplating that conundrum for a while before turning to stare out the window into space. Without anything to do to occupy himself, his memory ran rampant…

The air was cool and smelled faintly of salt and city as the yacht pulled into the Manehattan Harbor. A thin fog had veiled the city in the morning hours, casting an eerie atmosphere across the entire metropolis. Even before the shipyard was in view, the sound of civilization could be heard—a very familiar and welcome sound.

Fleethoof stood at the bow of the ship, watching as they slowly veered towards a vacant space along the docks. Soldiers scurried about the deck, stowing the sails and making ready to moor and disembark. Two pegasi flew to the pier as the yacht drew nearer, tethering it as the ponies aboard dropped the anchor, and the ship slowed to a stop.

They had arrived in Equestria.

The gangplank was lowered to the pier as fast as the eager ponies could move, and the soldiers filed off one by one. A path was cleared for the two ponies carrying Valiant to disembark, the injured pony sedated, as he had been for most of the trip, to deal with the pain. Fleethoof watched with a mournful scowl as his friend was carried off down the docks. There was nothing more he could do. The doctors in Manehattan General would tend to him.

The prince and princess made their way onto the deck, with Cuirass following behind with the remainder of the troops. Fleethoof gave Princess Cadance a weak smile as she glanced at him, then watched as they disembarked, following behind last. The soldiers on the wharf looked dazed, tired, and lost. Fleethoof could sympathize.

“The Guard will escort Valiant to the hospital to receive medical care. They can remain here,” Blue Shield told Fleethoof. The sergeant nodded assent.

“We need transport to Canterlot. The faster, the better. We should stop by the train station and check their schedule, see if we can’t find one leaving soon.”

The soldiers walked through the Manehattan streets, making their way from the seafront into the downtown district. It was a peculiar feeling to be walking down blocks of towering urban buildings without being afraid of getting shot. Ponies they passed along the way stopped and stared. They clearly hadn’t seen any soldiers come back this way, and for good reason. The stares made Fleethoof feel a little awkward, but he tried to stay focused on finding the train station. Surely it couldn’t be missed.

The sudden sound of clapping caught his attention. He paused in mid-stride, glancing over at the sound. A stallion stood on the side of the street, nodding at the soldiers and clopping his hooves together for them. One by one, ponies around him began to join in until the applause came from all sides.

“Keep going,” said Fleethoof to his squad, continuing down the street with his head held a touch lower than before.

Each pony they passed either nodded at them, applauded them, or even saluted them. Fleethoof guessed they were the retired veterans. The awkwardness intensified. He didn’t want this attention, not in such vast amounts. He hadn't earned it yet. The other soldiers seemed to be enjoying it though, smiling back at the ponies, a couple nodding their heads humbly. Cadance would smile and wave at a few. Blueblood was soaking it up like a sponge, beaming as if he were a superstar at a movie premiere.

“What’s wrong, boy? You look more miserable to be back than dodging bullets,” Captain Cuirass asked, nudging Fleethoof with his shoulder.

“I just… wasn’t expecting… this, sir,” he said.

“Enjoy it like the others,” the captain remarked and cast a victorious smirk to him. “You’ve earned it, soldier.”

Fleethoof hung his head a little lower. The train station had come into view, and all he wanted to do was get on board and let his mind settle down. He felt unstable and he didn’t like it. He cantered into the train station without looking up and approached the ticket counter without lifting his gaze from the floor.

“Excuse me,” he said with loud emphasis, getting the clerk’s attention away from a book she appeared totally engrossed in. “Could you tell me when the next train to Canterlot leaves?”

“Oh! The soldiers are home!” the mare in the small office exclaimed, her eyes lighting up in jubilance. “And with royalty escorting them! Oh my! Thank you so much for your service, sir!”

Fleethoof felt his face go hot. “Thank you for your kind words, but I really just need that schedule, ma’am.”

“Oh yes, of course! I’m afraid the next train doesn’t leave for another forty minutes, but I can reserve you all tickets, free of charge of course, for the brave ponies protecting our freedom.”

“That’s… That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

“And I’ll be sure to reserve you a private car for everypony to relax in.”

That took Fleethoof off guard. “That’s really not necessary—”

“But I insist!” the mare continued, beaming from ear to ear. “It's company policy for active duty soldiers. Anything for the returning war heroes!”

Her words froze Fleethoof to the core. He felt like his heart had just crashed somewhere in the vicinity of his kidneys. War hero? He never thought he’d hear that before. He certainly didn’t feel like a hero. What were heroes supposed to feel like? Accomplished? Proud? All he felt was tired and lost, like a foal that didn’t know where he belonged.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he murmured, taking the tickets to distribute amongst the group.

“What are you thinking about?”

Fleethoof blinked several times in quick succession as he snapped back into the present. He glanced over his shoulder at the pink pony now seated beside him. When had she switched seats? He hadn’t heard her come over.

“What is so interesting about what’s in my head?”

“Maybe you’re just an interesting pony,” Cadance replied, a warm smile on her face.

“Uh-huh…” said Fleethoof with a dubious expression. “You’re not a very good liar, Princess.”

Princess Cadance rolled her eyes. “You looked troubled. That’s why I came over,” she said in earnest answer. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s on track and we’re right on schedule to get you home by supper.”

Cadance gave him a perfect deadpan stare, complete with half-lidded eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” he spoke dryly and looked back out the window. “I don’t know if I want to tell you.”

Cadance shifted in her seat, leaning forward to try and maintain eye contact. “Why not?”

“Because you have a habit of making me feel odd.”

“And that’s… bad?”

“It makes me open up, feel things I didn’t before, and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“Those are called emotions,” Cadance explained with a sarcastic edge and light giggle. “You express them. A lot of artists and writers do it. You should talk to one.”

“I don’t know why you keep coming over to talk to me, your majesty. I’m not anypony important. I never will be. I’m just another soldier.”

“Cadance.”

Fleethoof hesitated a moment, then turned to face her again, a confused look on his face. “Excuse me?”

“Cadance. Just Cadance is fine. No ‘your majesty’ stuff if you’re letting me call you Fleethoof,” she said softly.

“That… doesn’t make any sense,” replied Fleethoof, scrunching his muzzle in confusion. “You’re a member of the Royal Family. You’re free to call me whatever you want.”

“And you’re free to call me Cadance now.” Again that wide smile formed across her face.

"But that's not protoc—"

"Cadance," she insisted further.

“Cadance…” Fleethoof repeated the name slowly, enunciating each syllable as if trying to learn a new word. “All right, if you insist… Cadance.”

She smiled happily and nodded. “I do. And I also think you’re wrong.”

Again he looked at her with a dead look, prompting her to continue.

“I think you’re important. You saved my life, you’re loyal to Equestria to a fault, you care deeply for others, and you’re a wonderful—albeit troubled—pony.”

Fleethoof’s eyes narrowed a little bit. “I’m not troubled,” he muttered.

“You were crying on the ship,” said Cadance, her expression skeptical. "I might not be a therapist, but that isn't too hard to figure out."

“Only because you made me with all the talking and opening up and emotions and… and… whatever else that was! I’m not troubled!”

Cadance smiled a little, a victorious look in her eyes. “Then why are you getting so upset?”

Fleethoof froze, eyes locked with hers when he realized she was right. He was working himself up and he didn’t even know why. With a groan of frustration he turned away from her again, hiding his face in his hooves. If he couldn't see her, he could at least pretend she wasn't there for a few seconds. He felt a soft touch against his shoulder. The illusion was broken.

“Why is it so difficult for you to just let it out?” Cadance asked in a gentle, hushed tone.

“I’ve never done it before, your maje— Cadance… I've always had to be tough. I'm a Royal Guard. We’re not supposed to show weakness.”

“It isn’t a sign of weakness to have emotions. That means you’re alive and well.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with all of this then?” he asked, lifting his head up and staring at the seat in front of him. “I feel so angry and hurt and upset and sad, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing about it.”

“You just came back from a war, Fleethoof,” Cadance explained in slow emphasis, letting the severity of that fact sink into his mind. “You’re vulnerable and traumatized from what you endured. The pony mind isn’t built to handle overwhelming grief and sorrow. That’s why you let it out. It keeps you sane and saves you from yourself.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Just lie down and cry?”

“Yes. Cry, talk about it, write a book, paint a picture, whatever helps you feel better. Nothing makes it go away, but releasing those demons instead of keeping them bottled up will help soothe it. Soldiers aren’t soulless creatures, Fleethoof. You’re a pony, just like everypony else—even me.”

A silence fell over the two ponies. Fleethoof just sat there with the thousand-yard stare, letting his mind process the new information while Cadance rubbed his shoulder with careful ministrations. He swallowed hard, feeling his insides knot up and unwind all at once. He was stressed, and Cadance had said he was most likely traumatized by the war. Now that he had come down from his combat high, Fleethoof felt broken.

“I do write down what I’ve been through,” Fleethoof said after a while, surprising Cadance with the sudden break in silence. “I have a journal.”

Cadance’s eyes lit up at the revelation. “How long have you been keeping it?”

"Since the beginning."

"And it has all of your experiences in it?"

Fleethoof nodded. Cadance was silent for a minute, and then asked, "Would you mind if I read it?"

The question took Fleethoof aback. Could she… read it? Somepony actually reading the personal words he had written? His immediate reaction was to go on the defensive, to deny her and protect himself.

No… I’ve got to try opening up… Just try… He gave a slow nod after a while. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

“My saddlebags…” he said, feeling Cadance begin to sift through the contents of the one closest to her. “Other saddlebag…”

He leaned forward, allowing her to reach over behind him to the bags strapped to his uniform. She rifled about in them for a moment before finally producing the small leather-bound book. Out in the open in somepony else’s hooves, Fleethoof began to take notice to just how beat up and worn the little book had become over the months. The cover was beaten and discolored, the spine was bent and nearly completely broken, just able to hold its pages together. The pages themselves were wrinkled, frayed, and stained with Celestia knew what.

“And I’d… I’d like to talk about it… I guess...” he added, catching Cadance’s attention and surprise again. “If it'll help... And if that’s all right with you…”

The princess gave him a smile and opened the cover. Her muzzle scrunched as she scrutinized the stained pages, flipping through them with brevity.

"What happened to it?" she asked with a snicker.

"Oh, that's blood," said Fleethoof much too casually, then quickly sat up and raised his hooves at Cadance's alarmed look. "Don't worry, it's not mine."

Princess Cadance's eyes widened further and she just shook her head in disbelief. Levitating the book so as not to touch any of the stains, she turned the pages with her magic, opening to the first entry.

It was late afternoon in Canterlot by the time the train began to pull into the station. Cadance and Fleethoof had spent the rest of the ride discussing the war from both the perspective of a sovereign and the eyes of a warrior. The conversations had been an interesting contrast between light-hearted and deep and melancholy, all depending on which chapter of his life Cadance reached.

Having somepony else reading his personal journal and talking about his life was something he wasn’t used to, nor ever expected to happen. It brought up so much Fleethoof hadn’t been ready to deal with. But Cadance was gentle and supportive, talking him through each experience and trauma like a therapist. Matters of the mind were often tethered to matters of the heart, she had said.

As much as he might have hated to admit it, she was right. Talking through everything that had happened and sharing it with somepony else helped in a way he didn’t think it would. It made him feel less alone in the world. He cried when he spoke of battles and loss, and he laughed when he shared the good memories of his friends and allies. And it all felt good.

As the train slowed to its final stop, Princess Cadance closed the cover on the last entry and slid the book back into his saddlebags.

“Thank you for letting me read that, Fleethoof,” Cadance said, rising out of her seat. “I'm always here to help if you need it. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“Thank you, Princess Cadance, for making it easier,” he remarked with a ghost of a smile, wiping away some lingering moisture from his eyes. “Now come on, let’s get you home.”

Stepping off the train and onto the station, Fleethoof found himself face-to-face with a dozen Royal Guards, all patrolling the platforms. The excessive amount of security surprised him, and from the sounds the other soldiers made disembarking, he guessed they were just as surprised too. Then again, they were at war.

A couple of soldiers noticed the ponies’ uniforms and nodded to them, all of them saluting when they saw the royalty they were escorting. Fleethoof nodded back to each pony, thankful they weren’t regaling them as heroes like the civilians had. They understood better than most what it was like to serve. They knew. The travel weary ponies left the train station, a large overhanging sign welcoming them to Canterlot.

The city was alive with activity. Stores were beginning to conclude their business as restaurants were preparing for most of theirs. Clubs and upscale bars were opening while the quaint cafés shut for the night. No matter the time, Canterlot was always going.

Most of the ponies they passed on the streets on the way to Canterlot Castle didn’t even spare them a passing glance, and the ones that did were focused on the princess. Nopony approached them, letting them pass unhindered all the way out of the city proper to the gates of the castle. Guards standing sentinel recognized the royals, and rushed to join the group.

“Sergeant Fleethoof, returning the prince and princess home safely,” Fleethoof reported to the approaching guards.

“Of course, Sergeant. We’ll take you to Princess Celestia,” one said, both turning in unison and leading the group up into the castle.

Walking into the foyer of Canterlot Castle felt like a distant memory; the sights familiar, but subtly altered. Guards stood posted in greater numbers than when Fleethoof had been here last, back when he was still green. That moment seemed years ago, from another life. The ponies were led down the front hallway, the same path he had once walked with Phalanx. Ghosts of memories made themselves present in the soldier’s mind, echoing to him through time.

"Captain… what’s happening?"

"We’re being deployed..."

The recollections made Fleethoof’s heart break for his departed comrade. But he remembered what Cadance had said to him on the train. The ones we love were never gone from our hearts. It was possible to use his emotions and his loss to his advantage, like artists do. He took the pain, and let it drive him. It fueled the fire in his spirit, urging him onward down the hall to complete his mission.

The group passed several doors down the seemingly endless hallway. Their hooves made no noise against the red carpet running the length of the corridor, leaving an unsettling silence in the castle. Fleethoof wondered where Celestia was, and where they were being led.

"I’m confused, Captain…"

"Welcome to war, Corporal…"

The voices from the past rang in his ears. He felt like an entirely different pony from who he had been then. He had gone so far. His thoughts were interrupted as they came to a stop in front of a set of doors, their escorts opening them and standing to the side. The ponies filed into the room, aweing at the splendor. They were in the largest dining room Fleethoof had ever seen. A decorative rectangular table stretched almost the length of the room, draped in a fine white tablecloth. A fire burned in the hearth, and candles and chandeliers lit the bright expanse.

“Come in, my little ponies, come in!” a familiar and welcoming voice greeted from the other end of the room.

Princess Celestia sat at the opposite end of the table, Luna seated closest to the ponies at the other head of the table. They were in the middle of eating dinner. Fleethoof immediately felt embarrassed for having barged in on the princesses like that. Celestia, however, rose to her hooves in a flash, her eyes wide when she saw Cadance and Blueblood in the group.

“Cadance! Blueblood! You’re safe!” she gasped and rushed across the room to embrace her nephew and niece. “I’m so thankful to have you back with us again!”

“I’ve missed you too, Aunt Celestia!” Cadance said, hugging her back, both ponies' smiles splitting their faces from ear-to-ear. For the first time since the war had begun, Fleethoof saw a look of genuine relief cross the monarch's softening features.

The sight made Fleethoof smile himself. He glanced past the two at Luna as she rose as well, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Recognition lit up in the princess’s eyes, and she gave the stallion a small smile and a nod.

“We thank thee, Sergeant, for thy upstanding service,” Luna said to him, surprising him yet again with her mannerisms. It was like she was speaking from a different time.

“Thank you very much, your majesty—but why are you talking like that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Luna looked puzzled. “Dost thou wish us to speak in the Royal Canterlot Voice? Our sister has been educating us, and has explained that we do not need to use such a tone with our loyal soldiers.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant.” Fleethoof was quick to correct himself, not wanting to get the princess to start shouting again. “I mean, why the old words? Why not just say ‘I’ or ‘me’ or ‘my’?”

“We could do that? That is the manner of the time?” Luna asked, looking more bewildered than ever. Her eyes narrowed to points before he even interpreted her shift in demeanor. “Is thou trying to trick us, sir Sergeant? We would be most displeased if that is thy intention.”

Fleethoof could see why Celestia was taking it upon herself to re-educate her sister. Princess Luna had been gone for so long—how did that story go? A thousand years? Was all of that fairy tale true? The evidence was standing right before him, staring at him like he was mentally ill. With the way he was feeling, perhaps he was.

“No tricks, your majesty. I would never,” he promised, and then apologized. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to confuse you. I think I’ll let Celestia fill you in on everything.”

“Regardless, thou art most courageous. This is not thy first act of valor, is it not?”

“No, your majesty, I suppose it's not.”

“Thou art an impressive combatant, Sergeant, and a commendable pony,” said Luna, looking the soldier over once from head to tail. “We would wish to enlist thou in our personal outfit, if thou so desires.”

Fleethoof smiled and chuckled a little under his breath, not exactly sure how to respond to that. “Thank you for the generous offer, your majesty, but I’m needed elsewhere at the moment.”

Luna nodded once, pausing before asking, “The war?”

Fleethoof nodded.

“Such loyalty and duty is uncommon in many ponies,” stated the alicorn in a proud manner. “As you wish, Sergeant. My offer stands for thy return, should thou develop a change of heart.”

Luna stepped aside then to go welcome her returned family, and Celestia took her sister’s place, smiling with warmth and pride at him. Even though he had been in Celestia’s presence several times now, Fleethoof was still in awe of her regality. She seemed to glow like a mother doting over a child. In a sense, he considered that to be true. Celestia loved all of her ponies as if they were her own.

“Sergeant Fleethoof, thank you for returning them to us,” Celestia spoke with graciousness, glancing over at the prince and princess, now seated at the table for a meal. “I could expect no different from such a talented, promising pony. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Fleethoof responded with a humble bow of his head to his sovereign.

“Are you happy to be home after being gone for such a long time?” she asked.

Fleethoof hesitated, his mouth hanging open in mid sentence as his brain tried to form words. “Actually, Princess, I’m not home yet.”

Celestia seemed perplexed. “Oh?”

“The war isn’t over yet, and there are ponies back in the Griffon Kingdom who need help. If it pleases you, I’d very much like to return to help bring them home faster.”

A surprised look crossed Celestia's face, and then an amused smirk touched her lips. Fleethoof looked at her, confused. Was it something he had said?

“You haven’t heard the news, have you, Fleethoof?”

“The news of what?”

Celestia’s smile grew a little as her horn began to glow. From across the table where she had been sitting, a newspaper floated through the air towards them. Fleethoof caught the paper in his hooves, reading over the title, his jaw dropping and eyes widening.

EQUESTRIAN FORCES TAKE ASGARD

“When did this happen?” Fleethoof asked, skimming through the article.

“Yesterday. This was printed today,” Celestia said. “The siege at Asgard was slow, but it was successful. Alaric fled the city, and most likely the Griffon Kingdom. Now that the army ousted him, the griffons will need a new leader. Alaric has no heirs, and the only one brave enough to step up is the griffon chancellor. He’s been a good friend of mine for some time and values the relationship between the griffons and us. I have no doubt that he’ll end the hostilities between our nations, and our ponies can come home.”

Fleethoof could feel a smile creeping its way onto his face. He glanced down at the paper in his hooves again, crinkling it a little to make sure it was real and not some sick delusion his mind was playing on him. The war was just about done.

“We should keep an eye on the griffons, just in case they don’t take to their new leader,” said Fleethoof in cautious suggestion.

“And we shall, but from afar. We won’t occupy and drive them to an allegiance with force. They have to grow on their own.”

Fleethoof nodded, then glanced down at the pictures on the front page. An image of celebrating soldiers lay beneath the headline, and above it was a banner photograph of a pony lowering Alaric's tattered flag above the Asgard citadel. Fleethoof froze for a moment, staring at that picture. He brought the paper closer to his face, scrutinizing the detail. That pony… That white unicorn with a disheveled blue-streaked mane. Fleethoof laughed. It was Shining Armor lowering the flag on Asgard.

“I need to go back regardless, your highness. The griffons burned several of our ships at Skyfall, and they’ll undoubtedly have finished the job by now,” he explained. “Our troops will be stranded there, and if there’s still rebel soldiers and insurgents in the area, they’ll cause some significant casualties. Sending reinforcements, at least a few, will help secure the city for evacuation and remove any further resistance.”

Princess Celestia simply stared at the pegasus before her for a while. She smiled.

“Listen to you, Fleethoof. Only a couple months ago, you were a new soldier, scared by the mere mention of war. Now you’re talking like you belonged at those meetings all along. You’ve come such a long way in so little time. You’ve truly grown so much.”

The embarrassed soldier could merely smile and bow his head. It was his pleasure to serve so dutifully, regardless of the immense personal sacrifice it required of him. For his country, he would give everything.

“This is what you wish then? To return to the war?”

Fleethoof nodded. He had rarely been so certain of anything before. “It is.”

Princess Celestia nodded in understanding, then looked past the pony. He followed her gaze with curiosity. Luna and Cadance had both stopped eating, staring at them. Luna’s expression was unreadable, but Cadance’s was a straight look of concern. Fleethoof swallowed a lump in his throat. They’d been listening in the whole time. He knew why she was worried for him. She didn't think he was ready to return.

“Very well, Sergeant. Take a train to Fillydelphia tomorrow. We’ve been reconstructing our fleet there, with a garrison of reinforcements waiting for deployment,” Celestia said. “I want you to lead the attack and reclaim Skyfall long enough for our troops to make it out safely.”

A sudden sputtering and choking came from behind Fleethoof. Everypony turned to look at the source of the sound. Captain Cuirass had spit his drink across the table in surprise, wiping the remainder from his mouth as he stared at the princess like she had two heads.

“You want a rookie sergeant to lead a second attack on a major griffon city when it’s occupied by Special Forces soldiers?” he asked in shock, laughing to himself. “Forgive me, your highness, but you must be insane.”

“I assure you, I’m not, Captain,” Celestia remarked. “Fleethoof has demonstrated impressive tactical prowess in the past from what I’ve read in the reports, and has successfully delivered three hostages from enemy territory back home. If there’s anypony left in Equestria more qualified than him, I have yet to think of their name.”

“What about the Captain of the Guard? Another captain? Or even myself?” the livid officer pressed on.

“You know very well that Equestria hasn't had an active Captain of the Guard in years. All of our captains are currently in griffon territory and are not proxy to commanding this fleet. As for yourself... I’ve seen your abilities to command and hold positions, Captain. Did Fleethoof not just rescue you from the very city you were holding after you lost an entire company of ponies?” Celestia pointed out, her tone scolding, but still maintaining that gentle complexion even in her reprimanding. “So forgive me, Captain, if my faith in your capabilities has been shaken.”

Captain Cuirass said nothing. He stared with such intensity at Princess Celestia, fury and indignity smoldering in his dark eyes. He slouched back into his seat with nothing short of great reluctance and stared at the plate before him with blank eyes. Fleethoof was taken aback. He’d seen the captain lose his cool before on several occasions, but had never thought he would lose his temper with the princess of anypony. It was no surprise he was rebuked.

“Sergeant,” Celestia said after a moment, getting his attention again. “Won’t you join us for dinner? I have a gift I’d like to give you afterwards before you return to duty.”

Fleethoof smiled graciously and opened his mouth to immediately decline the generous offer—when his stomach gave a loud growl. A sheepish smile matched his chuckle, even as the princess stifled a laugh. The food did smell good, and he wasn’t going anywhere till the morning. He could afford to live like a normal pony for one night.

“Thank you, your majesty. Dinner sounds great.”

The silent hallways echoed with the clopping of the ponies’ hooves as they walked along the corridor. Fleethoof wasn’t sure where they were going, and followed close behind Princess Celestia, not wanting to get lost in this labyrinth of a castle. The old stronghold had a cozy feeling at night, warm light filling every hall and room from overhanging chandeliers, casting light and shadows around the interior. Canterlot Castle was remarkably beautiful. He loved it.

They had left the main body of the castle now and had ventured into an annex he had never been to before. Granted, he hadn’t visited most of the castle. He noticed the distinct lack of guards posted around this wing. They passed through an empty lounge, Fleethoof eyeing the velvet chairs and sofas and quality pine furniture. Whoever was living here was comfortably settled in.

“Here we are!” Celestia declared, stopping in front of a single unassuming door.

“Where are we, Princess?” Fleethoof asked as Celestia knocked on the door.

“It’s open,” a voice from inside shouted.

Celestia’s horn ignited in a golden glow and the door opened inward. She stepped inside, a hesitant Fleethoof walking in behind her and taking in the surroundings. They were in a large office, candlelight just illuminating the room. Bookshelves covered the walls from floor to ceiling, all filled to overflowing with books. Three desks sat in a U-shape in the center of the room, a chalkboard covered with work and notes behind them. Hefty-looking crates lay haphazardly about in various states of openness.

A solitary unicorn sat at the desks, face buried in paperwork and books while he levitated a quill, scribbling swift notes with precise flourishes across a scroll. He glanced up, and Fleethoof got a good look at the pony. He was a stallion with a cream-colored coat and a chestnut mane. An untied bowtie hung around his neck and he wore a gray tartan sweater. He peered with lavender eyes over the thin wire-frame glasses perched at the end of his nose, his expression lighting up when he gazed upon the princess.

“Princess Celestia! Come in, come in!” He shot up from his seat and grabbed hooffuls of papers, stuffing them into the books and folders that smothered his desk. “Please forgive the mess. I’ve been very busy—well, you know all about it.”

“I do, Quarter. It’s quite all right,” replied Princess Celestia, approaching the desks with the sergeant on her hooves. “Fleethoof, I’d like to introduce you to Quarter Master. Quarter, Sergeant Fleethoof.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Fleethoof smiled and offered his hoof.

Quarter Master shook his hoof and nodded to him. “Charmed, Sergeant.”

“Quarter Master is our resident head of research and development here in the castle.” The unicorn in question smiled and looked away sheepishly. “He oversees and designs many of the projects in his division.”

“And what division is that?” Fleethoof asked, looking between the two ponies.

“Weapons and military technology,” Quarter Master answered with pride. “Princess Celestia isn’t exactly proud of our little segment of research, but it does benefit Equestria—now more than ever. I’m sure you can appreciate that, Sergeant.”

“I just wish we didn’t have a need for it,” Celestia said. “I have nothing against you or your work, Quarter.”

“I understand, your majesty. No need to feel poorly.”

“So you designed the weapons we’re using over in the Griffon Kingdom?” asked Fleethoof, now much more interested in the scientist’s work.

“Well, I didn’t invent the archaic bolt rifles the Guard is using here on the mainland, but the rifles and carbines the Army has, yes. I helped create that design. I personally came up with the design for the satchel charges, and my team collaborated on the new design for the warships. Have you seen either in action?”

“Oh yes, I’ve worked hooves-on with your charges, Quarter,” Fleethoof said with a chuckle. “But the warships I haven’t seen yet.”

“You will tomorrow. You’ll be taking them on their maiden voyage back to Skyfall,” Celestia said.

“How wonderful! Do tell me how they fair,” remarked Quarter Master, excitement gleaming in his eyes. He then leaned across his desk towards the pegasus. “And tell me… how do my charges work in the field?”

“Like a dream. Took the walls down in Asgard like they were made of clay.”

Quarter Master’s eyes lit up with life. “And the detonator? Did it work?”

“Went off without a hitch.”

At that answer, a huge grin spread across Quarter Master’s face and he clapped his hooves together. He turned on his hooves and rushed to the chalkboard, levitating a worn piece of chalk and began taking short notes beside a couple drawings and formulas that made no sense to Fleethoof.

“Oh how exciting! This opens up a whole new world of possibilities! So many things can be created now,” he said, all but cheering as he spoke and turned to face the now quite surprised ponies. “And it’s all thanks to you, Sergeant Fleethoof! Marvelous! Simply marvelous!”

“Um… you’re welcome?” Confusion tinted Fleethoof's voice.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dampen your enthusiasm, Quarter Master, but I came to ask a favor of you,” Celestia interrupted after a moment.

The eccentric unicorn turned away from his board again, his tie almost flying off his neck at the speed of his swivel.

“Of course, your majesty. What can do I for you?”

“I was hoping I could give one of your inventions to the sergeant to take back into the field with him,” she said. “To give him a slight edge, and to provide you with some feedback to use.”

Quarter Master looked like Hearth’s Warming Eve had come early for him. He practically sprang back to his desk, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oooh, what toy is the sergeant going to get to use?”

“The rifle you demonstrated to me last week, if you don’t mind.”

Quarter hummed a soft sound and walked over to a couple of boxes in the corner of his office. He flipped the lids off of them with his magic, rummaging through one, and then another. Fleethoof waited, stretching his neck to try and see what the unicorn was searching for. After a few moments, he let out a triumphant cheer and levitated a rifle out of the box and carried it back to the desk, laying it carefully down before the sergeant.

Fleethoof stared at the gun for a moment, studying it. It had the same form as his previous weapon, but with several noticeable differences. The receiver had small rails running along the top and bottom of it. A grip had been attached to the front of the rifle, right where he would have held it with his hooves. A raised rectangular object sat on top of the gun attached to where the sights were. The rear grip looked like it had been molded differently from what he was used to as well.

“Well, go on! Don’t be afraid to pick it up! Feel it!” Quarter Master encouraged him, still beaming like he’d won the lottery.

Fleethoof slowly grasped the weapon in his hooves and lifted it up. He raised the rifle, bringing it to bear and aiming it at a bookcase. The rectangular object was some sort of sight: transparent, save for a red dot hovering in the center.

“What do you think? First impressions?”

“It’s lighter,” Fleethoof noted, raising and lowering the gun a few times. “And… shorter?”

“You are correct, my good stallion! The way we treat the alloy makes it lighter, but without any compromise in durability or reliability to the carbine,” explained the enthused scientist. “We also made the entire design a little smaller in addition to reducing the weight. It makes it easier to carry and less cumbersome in close quarter conflicts.”

“And the sights?”

“Ah, that one I’m especially proud of. The dot sight is an optic weapons sight that replaces the old iron ones for much greater precision and faster acquisition of targets. A red light is refracted through a curved lens and projected onto the glass in the sight, providing the red dot you see there. It’s almost infinitely accurate and parallax free.”

“Okay then.” Fleethoof's words were slow, still lost by the technical talk. “How is the light there? How in Equestria do you supply power to it without combustion or electricity?”

“And this is where you unlocked millions of possibilities for me.” Quarter Master opened the side of the sight and extracted a small purple crystal from within. “This is what I call a power crystal. It’s infused with the energy of unicorn magic. That allows devices like this and my remote detonator to work without depending on another energy source.”

“You created a portable energy source,” Fleethoof surmised, staring in awe. Even Princess Celestia stepped in closer to investigate Quarter’s new invention.

“Indeed I did. Oh, this is going to allow for such possibilities! Imagine what we can create without relying on fuels or electricity. Portable electronics... Cleaner and longer running vehicles... And each crystal can be recharged by any unicorn.”

“Quarter Master, this achievement is revolutionary!” Celestia commended while turning one of the crystals over in her hooves. “How long does each crystal’s power last?”

“I need to run some tests on them, but I'd assume it depends on the crystal, the unicorn's magic, and the device using it,” he said, voicing his hypothesis. “I created the remote charges before the war, months ago, and if they worked now in Asgard, they lasted for a while. I just put this one in the sight and hoped it would work, and look! It did!”

Fleethoof checked the action on the rifle, then set it back down on the desk. “That is a very impressive weapon if it lives up to its expectations.”

“And that’s why you’ll be taking it for its premiere into battle with you, Sergeant Fleethoof,” Quarter said with a large smile. “I want you to give it a trial by fire, quite literally. Break it in. Bang it around. Put it to the test. Just please don’t get killed so you can bring it back and tell me how it fairs to your standards. If it surpasses them, then this will replace every weapon in the Royal Guard and Army.”

“So no pressure,” Celestia added with a touch of humor in her voice.

Fleethoof chuckled, and then picked the rifle up again. He felt lucky to be given this privilege to be the first pony to test this gun out. But it came with some concerns. What if it jammed or malfunctioned in the field? What if it didn't fire? It could cost him his life. He glanced up from the tool of modern warfare to the pony that had created it. This pony had created so many things that he relied on before. Why wouldn’t he trust him now?

“All right, I’ll give it a go,” he agreed, slinging the rifle's strap across his shoulder. “I’ll be sure to give you a thorough report when I get back.”

Quarter smiled at Fleethoof. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Sergeant. Oh, and one more thing.”

He shuffled through a pile of papers on one of his desks, hunting for something. He turned to the next, skipping the awkward rummaging and tossing the papers off the surface, scattering them across the floor like leaves in the autumn.

“Aha! There it is!” he chimed almost lyrically and levitated a knife in a black leather sheath over to Fleethoof. “Test that too while you’re out and about.”

Fleethoof drew the knife out of its protective pouch, turning it about in the candlelight. The blade was black with a blued straight edge. Other than the material it was crafted of, it seemed like every other combat knife he’d seen.

“Thanks, I needed a blade,” Fleethoof replied, tucking the blade back into its home.

Quarter Master looked confused. “What do you mean? You didn’t get a knife in your kit?”

“Um… no?”

“Oh, those idiots!” Quarter decried, throwing his hooves in the air. “Honestly, knives are the most basic thing to mass produce! What, are they rationing out everything now? For crying out loud…”

“So… thanks again for giving me one. I could’ve really used it before.”

“You’re quite welcome, but that’s no ordinary knife,” Quarter continued to explain. “We decided to harken back to our medieval heritage with this one. The blade has been cut and sharpened by pure diamond. It’s guaranteed to remain sharp for quite possibly your entire lifetime, so do be careful when handling it. Try to not cut yourself.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you again, Quarter.”

“Just please remember that they are prototypes. They’ve been tested in our labs and training courses, but you’ll be field-testing them. I don’t expect anything to go wrong, but it is a possibility.” He paused, then leaned across his desk with a serious glower. “And do try to bring them back in working order. Don’t lose them to the griffons. That would be a tragedy.”

Fleethoof scoffed and gave a crooked smile to the scientist. “I don’t intend to.”

Celestia stepped closer into the conversation, placing herself between the two ponies. She smiled and rolled her eyes. Boys with their toys…

“Thank you, Quarter Master. With luck, Fleethoof will have some useful information for you when he returns,” she interrupted gently, turning to the pegasus in question. “You should get some sleep, Sergeant. You have a busy day tomorrow.”

“You’re right,” he agreed with a nod, shaking hooves with Quarter Master again. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Quarter Master.”

“Likewise. I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon. Good luck, Sergeant. Bring our ponies home safely!”

Fleethoof nodded to him, and then turned towards the door with Princess Celestia at his side. Carrying his new equipment, he felt like a whole new soldier. He was being trusted with prototype weapons. He was being trusted to command the reinforcements in recapturing Skyfall. Responsibility crashed down on the pony’s head. Nervousness coursed through him like his own blood. He felt like he was being tested. He was going into the battle for the first time all over again.

The walk back to his chambers seemed to take a long, lengthy eternity. Princess Celestia had been more than gracious to offer him accommodations in the castle for the night. Each step and each second brought him closer to returning to the Griffon Kingdom—to the war. And though he had confidence in himself and his fellow soldiers, it terrified him. Cadance’s voice echoed in his head. It was natural for him to be scared. Her words gave him solace. He had left Skyfall a damaged pony, but he would be returning an enlightened warrior.

The darkness of his room enveloped Fleethoof. The silence taunted him like a jester, mocking him of what he had left behind. The blood and the battle. Cool night air flowed into the bedroom from the open balcony. It felt good. Trudging wearily through the dark to the bed, Fleethoof let his body give way to gravity and collapsed onto the mattress.

He was asleep before his head even hit the pillows.

The train whistle blared in the early morning hours. Celestia had just finished raising the sun, light spilling over the horizon and chasing away the night. Fleethoof stood on the station platform, staring at the train until the noise subsided. The engine chugged, eager and waiting to begin its voyage.

Fleethoof tore his gaze away from the locomotive toward the small entourage gathered to see him off. Everypony from his squad stood around, no longer in uniform or on active duty. They smiled and gave him words of encouragement for his departure. Princess Celestia and Luna stood a little further back, seeing him off. Princess Cadance stood in amongst the seasoned soldiers, looking Fleethoof over before her and nodding in approval, though he could see the sadness and silent plea in her eyes.

“Good luck, Sarge!”

“Go get ‘em, Sergeant!”

“You can do it!”

“Bring our buddies home, Sarge!”

The troopers’ calls made Fleethoof smile. Their liveliness and enthusiastic support amused and touched him. Even after all the horrors they had endured, they still looked up to him, supporting his decisions. His attention turned to Princess Cadance now, who had yet to say a single word to him—very unlike her.

“No words of wisdom?” he asked her in jest, cocking a half smile at her. Cadance mustered up a small smile, though it was clearly forced and faded as quick as it had come.

“Just be careful, Fleethoof. Enough ponies have died in this senseless war. Please don’t lose yourself,” she implored.

Fleethoof’s smile turned into a charmed grin. “Is that an order, your majesty?”

“Yes, it is.” She stood tall and authoritative as she spoke. “Sergeant Fleethoof, I order you to take care and come back alive and well. I'm not finished with you yet.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the sergeant said, standing at attention and saluting.

Before Fleethoof could react or even lower his salute, he felt something hit him and hooves tightening around him. He gasped in surprise at the sudden force, looking down at the princess embracing him. He smiled and hugged her back for a lingering moment before they both pulled back.

"Will you be all right?" he asked the affectionate mare with a laugh.

"I'll be fine. I have a few more troubled soldiers I can help to pass the time until I can fix you again," said Cadance softly, glancing to the nearby troops.

“Cadance, could I ask a favor of you?” he murmured in a low voice.

“Of course,”

Fleethoof took a deep breath and slowly reached into the breast pocket on his uniform, pulling out a wrinkled letter. He placed it with extreme care in her hoof, making sure she held it tight before removing his hoof from hers.

“Could you deliver that to my parents when the time is right?” he asked, ignoring the look she was giving him. “You’re the first pony I could think of with this matter. You understand.”

Cadance looked down at the letter in her grasp, then back into his eyes and asked, “How will I know when the time is right?”

“It isn’t sealed.” A rueful smirk touched his lips. “Thank you, Cadance—for everything. Literally, everything…”

“Stop talking like this is the end. This isn’t goodbye. You’re going to come back fine.”

Fleethoof chuckled under his breath, glancing down for a moment, and then looking up at her over his eyelashes. “I prefer to cover my bases… Goodbye, Cadance.”

Still wearing his sad smile, Fleethoof turned just as the train let out another earsplitting whistle. Cheers and chants of his name rang out from the soldiers behind him. Fleethoof chuckled to himself, shaking his head. How he loved them…

He approached the train with a slow gait, each step taking such an effort to make. Part of him wanted to return, to finish the job he had started, and to see the safety of everypony through. The other part of him begged him to stay with his friends, safely at home. His war was over. He didn’t have to return. But in his heart and mind he knew the truth.

He had to go back.

Boarding the train was a tense experience, and looking back through the doorway at everypony was even worse. They were waving now, his ponies, even the princesses. Cadance was putting on her bravest face, and even Celestia and Luna looked distressed. He forced a smile and waved back before disappearing into the train car.

He chose a seat beside the window, looking out at the ponies milling about their daily lives, and at Canterlot. The realization that this could be his last time seeing normality hit him like a ton of bricks. The first time he left almost hadn't seemed real, but this time he knew what he was heading into. It was still possible that he might not return this time. He was pushing his luck when he had been handed an escape. But his damned sense of loyalty and duty was driving him stronger than his cowardice now. Fear chilled him, but it had no hold over him. It simply lay in his heart like an itch he couldn’t reach, driving him mad with its presence. There was only one way to get over it though…

Fleethoof heard somepony sit down beside him. He took a quick glance over—and then did a double take.

“Captain Cuirass?” he asked in astonishment. “I thought Princess Celestia told you not to come on this?”

“She said I couldn’t lead it, Sergeant, not that I couldn’t participate,” Cuirass corrected, looking at him with a serious glare that sent chills down his spine. It was clear the stallion had not joined him in good nature. “I’m coming with you to finish my fight. Everything that happens now, that’s all on you. Don’t fuck it up, boy.”

Fleethoof was frozen in shock and worry for a moment. He swallowed tensely. The train lurched forward and began its slow acceleration down the tracks, pulling away from the station. He glanced out the window at Canterlot one last time. The squad he had led was running down the station, waving and cheering him on with wild abandon. At the edge of his vision, he could see Cadance beginning to open his letter.

In the next minute, the city vanished from his view.

For Jetstream and Nightingale
3360 Pegasi Terrace
Cloudsdale
Equestria
From Fleethoof, 3rd Company

My dearest mother and father,

If you’ve gotten this letter, then you know what it means. I have perished in the Griffon Kingdom. That’s the fact. But I’m not writing to you to inform you of a truth you’d learn from a telegram in a day or two. I’m writing you this final letter because I want you both to know my truth—the truth you won’t find in any history book, or newspaper, or magazine. I pray it makes it to you safely, especially to you, Mom, wherever you are.

I am a soldier. I knew what I was getting into when I got my cutie mark. I can still remember your faces when it popped up on my flank. I knew what I was getting into when I set out for basic training. Your letters of support kept me going all the way through it, no matter how tough it was. I knew what I was getting myself into… at least I thought I did.

In all honesty, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. War is horrifying, Mom and Dad. We always hear it or read about it, but you can never understand how truly life-threatening and terrifying it is until you’ve been under enemy fire. In the past few months, I’ve been attacked, shot at, beaten, and nearly blown up. Each time, I kept telling myself it would get easier. It never did.

I was terrified. I was scared every second of every day. But I want you to know I didn’t die afraid. If anything, I died proud and strong, fighting for what I believed in. I didn’t know what war was really like, but I knew it could cost me my life and that I was giving it up for the liberty of Equestria. That’s exactly what I did, Mom and Dad. I died brave, standing up for my home and the ponies I love. I died on my hooves so nopony would have to live on their knees. I died so when ponies recite the anthem to our flag, you could smile, sing along, and say 'Our son kept us free'.

Please do not harbor any ill feelings towards Princess Celestia for the war. There are factors involved far beyond her alone. She is a good, just leader who cares for everypony, especially her soldiers. Please do not blame yourselves. There is no fault on either of you. You raised me the best you could, and you did wonderful.

And above all, thank Princess Cadance for delivering this letter to you and for teaching me how to survive. I had been broken and scarred from the war, bottling up and hiding my emotions away. It was killing me inside and I didn’t even realize it until we stumbled across one another. It’s because of her that I can feel alive and like a normal pony, even in these dark times. I owe her so much, and I can never repay that debt.

Do me one last favor, Mom and Dad. Live. Live your lives to their fullest, not lingering around my passing. Know that everything I did, I did for you, for everypony, and for Equestria. I love you both so much.

With all my love, forever and always,

— Fleethoof

Fleethoof trailed a gentle hoof along the polished metal railing of the massive ship, taking in the finer detail of it. Quarter Master had been right. No expense had been spared with the new warships. They were ridiculously larger than the transports they had taken over in the first invasion. Two decks of cannons had been installed in each vessel, a dozen cannons on each side. Heavy artillery batteries lined the expansive decks, primed for destruction. Everything about the ships screamed of power and dominance. It made him feel better about attacking the griffons again.

“Sergeant Fleethoof.”

He glanced back over his shoulder at the pony addressing him. The pony was a young pegasus, younger than even he was. He was dressed in the same uniform Fleethoof wore, albeit a lot cleaner from the lack of combat it had yet to see. A single band on his sleeve marked his rank. Seapony Recruit; a rookie. Fleethoof felt like he was looking in a mirror when he stared into those bright, eager eyes.

“Yes?”

“The ship’s loaded up, and the other is just about done as well,” the seapony reported, standing at attention. “All the soldiers are boarding now. We’ll be ready for departure in a few minutes.”

“Thank you. Tell the stallion at the helm to prepare for immediate departure.”

The pony saluted, then scampered off, eager to do his commanding officer’s bidding. Fleethoof watched him go, then returned to staring off past the bow at the open ocean. It was out there somewhere. Waiting for him to return.

Here we go again… His lips pursed while the grim thought passed through his mind.

Hoofsteps approached him again. He looked back, sparing a nod to Captain Cuirass.

“Cast off!” somepony called behind him. “Raise anchors! Full steam ahead!”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Cuirass muttered as the ship began to move away from Fillydelphia Harbor, the second warship just behind them.

Fleethoof’s eyes didn’t stray from the horizon.

“So do I…”

Sergeant Fleethoof
3rd Company, Equestrian Army
Fillydelphia, Equestria

Dear Journal,

One more time. Just one more round.

It’s almost over.

Comments

[Silverstein]

My god, why is it in Band of Brothers, The Pacific or this story that the most emotional chapter or episode doesn't have combat in it. I felt so much in this chapter. From the beginning, the letter, the dialogue is beautiful and fitting...everything.

You put extraordinary detail and description is this that...you have truly blown me away. My emotions are still screwing with me right now. I think I'm gonna have to watch Band of Brothers or The Pacific after I'm done because you have captured the aspect of war just as well as they have.

In an unrelated note, looks like Fleethoof is field testing a pony version of the M4 huh? Also, it looks like Equestria has a proper navy now. Dozens of cannons? I'd have to say either battleships or heavy cruisers of some kind.

But you capture the emotion so well it's scary.

I found one typo but I can't find it.

Sorry.

This is the type of story that needs to be made into a movie.

Silver out!

[Treilacl]

Well I think I'll just keep chipping at away at this story once chap a day. Or something like that. But, hey! That gives me a chance to enjoy it and look forward to it!

1st of all thank you thank you THANK YOU for having all that emotional dialogue stuff. It's messy and emotional... which makes it awesome. You can't go through that kinda stuff (or into it) without some kind of emotional stuff going on and I've read a number of stories that just skip right over it. However, YOU put it in. And I think your story is that much stronger for it!

Also the next bit that caught my attention was... well Fleethoof kinda needs a promotion I think. I mean... he IS still a sergeant. I think if he's going to be the one with the responsibility of retaking the city and then holding it... well then I think it would make a bit more sense for his rank to go up. Unless of course it's a smaller operation than I'm thinking of at the moment. (Which is a 100-200 ponies or so.) ...or maybe at the very least a temporary one for this operation. It just seems a little odd to me for a sergeant to be in charge... in my mind if he's earned the respect and the commanders think he can do it... then let him do it... but give him a rank for him to do it with... unless of course this is a smaller operation than I'm imagining. And if that's the case then a little description of the numbers and whatnot could be helpful.

But otherwise... it's a really good read and I think you've really got something here.

[k64speed]

The letter was pointedly amazing in the feelings it transfered. If any part of this story deserves specific notation, that was it.

On the other side, I am also waiting for Fleethoof to get a promotion!

[MariusIoannesP]

Skyfall... Quarter Master... Sounds like Fleethoof is Equestria's own James Bond.

My name is Hoof. Fleethoof.

[Strythio]

Aye, what emotion! During the fight, there was action, there was turmoil, and even some bickering (Dat stubborn pink mare). And then, once that hype is over, and there is time for reflection, the emotions kick in.

I feel like I would just be repeating commentary if I continued on that track, so I'll move on past the strong emotions and detail that you displayed. It is so hard to get wrapped around my head that these ponies would be using sail ships at any point in the war. And yet, here we are, and I wonder if these ships are sail, steam, or whatever powered. Not to mention crystal batteries as an innovation of such...

My experience with war is pretty much none, so there are plenty of things I just don't get here. But, I do understand the drives on at least one side of the story, the side of the story that we have gotten to see so much. Particularly after this chapter, I wonder about the other side; what exactly the griffons are undergoing at this point. Was their last leader truly a tyrant of sorts that dictated hate and prejudice? A cover-up of sorts in order to ease the unconditional surrender?

Well, anyways, they're going in again for Skyfall; round 4 for this conflict. Fleet better hope those new weapons are as good as described.

[Alpharius IV]

Heroes die in Skyfall. I figured that out when he said he'd be returning. Let's see if its true, eh?
I really am enjoying this story. I started today and I'm almost finished, you write a damn good story. I'll put all my thoughts into the last chapter though. Condense it.

[Travolore]

This is really good but I'm pretty sure they'd promote him to at least a lieutenant if they had him commanding an invasion! Still though I like it.
T

[SWEETOLEBOB18]

Chapter 10
No, not everything is rationed. No shortage of REMFs or stupidity. Still, it has been quite some time since Equestria has had a war. It's called "the Peace Disease". All armies everywhere, everywhen get it. It takes a minimum of a year of war to get over it & some don't recover before the war ends.

[Biker_Dash]

As for yourself... I’ve seen your abilities to command and hold positions, Captain. Did Fleethoof not just rescue you from the very city you were holding after you lost an entire company of ponies?” Celestia pointed out, her tone scolding, but still maintaining that gentle complexion even in her reprimanding. “So forgive me, Captain, if my faith in your capabilities has been shaken.

Sweet Mother of Luna... The level of BURN in that scolding...
greendragonsociety.com/images/Nuke23.gif

[Biker_Dash]

Okay... 6:18 in the damn morning... and I am completely wiped out. And yet, instead of goin to bed to get a few hours of desperately needed sleep, I want to keep reading.

This fic is that damn good! Well deserving being included in my Best of the Best bookshelf.

[Dances With Unicorns]

Each pony they passed either nodded at them, applauded them, or even saluted them. The word “either” should be used for two subjects, example: “either A or B”, but not three objects.

Each civilian pony they passed either nodded at them or applauded them with smiling faces. A few older mares and stallions the age of his parents or grandparents even saluted them.

Our troops will be stranded there, and if there’s still rebel soldiers and insurgents in the area, they’ll cause some significant casualties.

Our troops will be stranded there, and if there are still rebel soldiers and insurgents in the area, they’ll cause some significant casualties.

Cadance mustered up a small smile, though it was clearly forced and faded as quick as it had come.

Cadance mustered up a small smile, though it was clearly forced and faded as quickly as it had come.