Chapter 7: Mist
When darkness falls,
And the fires of war burn the sullen skies,
I turn to you, brother.
And together, drawing our swords,
We go to face the enemy.
We fight for peace,
We cry for happiness,
And we die for life.
Through our sacrifice, the Empire will live on.
--- Legionary Chant
Chapter 7: Mist
The clouds descended on the camp, blotting out the sky and bringing with them the soggy atmosphere of rain. Outside, several Cirrans scattered from the advancing gray clouds, retreating to the mess hall for warm food and cold drink. There was little movement within the barracks, and the air whistled through open windows left forgotten.
It was the final week of camp for the recruits before they would finally be considered full legionaries and sent to the front lines. The soldiers had been given leave to visit Stratopolis that night, and the fort was nearly empty. Apart from a handful of privates and the camp’s senior officers, there was not a single pony to be seen.
Hurricane rested his head across the low walls of one of the fort’s watchtowers, gazing gloomily across the shattered surface of the lake at the foggy horizon in the distance. His wings were spread messily on either side of his body, the feathers frayed and spotted with mud. He hadn’t bothered preening them for two days. He didn’t see the point.
It had been two days since the combat exercise concluded. Blue team had won a thrilling victory with a close flag capture by Silver Sword, who outraced a platoon of red team fliers with the flag back to base to score the victory. As a reward, the team had been allowed to skip practice the next day and sleep in, in addition to being allowed to travel to Stratopolis with the rest of camp to celebrate the end of training. It was supposed to be a time for the soldiers to relax, to enjoy their last few days at what had become their home for the past three months before being relocated to Nimbus and eventually assigned to a position on the front.
Celebrate. Hurricane had done anything but celebrate in those two days. It had been two days since he last slept, two days since he had more than a few stalks of celery for a meal, two days since he held a sword in his mouth. His nights were haunted with the color red, and he had spent the day washing and rewashing his sword, trying to remove some spot that refused to be cleansed.
Silver Sword had tried to persuade him to go to Stratopolis, but Hurricane flatly declined every time. He tried his best to cover his emotions and claimed that he wasn’t feeling well, remaining inside the barracks and staring at the underside of Silver’s bunk. Exasperated, Silver Sword eventually left with Shear Point and the other recruits to the capital city, leaving Hurricane behind.
There was a patter on the roof of the tower as the skies finally released their payload. A low thunder rumbled across the hills, rattling the beams of the construction. Hurricane closed his eyes as the vibrations traveled through his body, causing his tail to twitch uncomfortably. A few drops of rain scored hits across his muzzle, slowly falling to the floor. He refused to move deeper within the structure, unable to pick himself up and content to remain there.
He wasn’t sure how long had passed – minutes, hours – until there was a flutter of wings behind him. A series of gentle taps on the wooden floor barely caught his attention as a pegasus alighted in the tower. He didn’t bother to turn his head when he felt a warm coat brush against his side, trying to cling on to the strands of loneliness that he craved yet despised.
“Hurricane.” His name shattered the silence within the tower, but the stallion acted as though he didn’t hear it. “Hurricane,” came the voice again, this time louder and closer to his ear. A hoof shook his shoulders, and he caught a glimpse of light coloration on the foreleg. “Hurricane, snap out of it.” The voice was getting irritated now, so the stallion shifted an unfocused eye towards the mare in the dim hopes that this would appease her.
Swift Spear was decidedly not appeased. She angrily slapped Hurricane across the muzzle, causing him to jolt back to attentiveness. Standing up now, Hurricane collected his wings by his side and rubbed his jaw with a hoof. Satisfied that she had his attention, Swift took a step back and looked into his eyes.
“Hurricane, I know what you’re thinking right now. Stop blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault.” There was a hard edge in Swift’s voice, but her eyes pleaded with the black stallion.
“Yes it is!” Swift took a startled step back as Hurricane shouted. “I was the one holding the sword! His blood is on my hooves!” The black stallion collapsed on the floor and set his head between his hooves. “Gods, I didn’t mean to kill him! He didn’t deserve to die!”
Swift took a few slow steps to the shuddering stallion and lay down next to him, extending a wing over his crumpled figure. “Hurricane, look at me. No one blames you. If they did, you’d have been gone long ago. You were just trying to protect me, and things got out of hoof…” her words trailed off as Hurricane looked up at her, tears glistening on his face.
“That’s not true. I blame myself. I just saw him, and y-you were laying there, a-and I just got this h-haze that blinded me, and—” he leaned closer towards the mare, chest heaving. “I wasn’t in control of myself, I w-wasn’t thinking. S-somewhere in my mind I knew w-what I was d-doing, b-but I didn’t stop.” His sad gaze met Swift’s, his magenta irises glistening in the dull light. “I just wanted to end it, beat him so badly that he wouldn’t bother us again.”
Swift ran a hoof through Hurricane’s mane as she held his head against her body. “I know you never meant for this to happen. Fire Star had plenty opportunities to run away, to get out of there before it was too late. His pride got the better of him, and he stayed.” She sighed deeply, closing her eyes against her own emotions. “I know there isn’t anything that can justify it, but you did what you had to. The officers understand it, I made sure of that. I’m… grateful that you showed up when you did, or things would have been much worse for me.”
She wasn’t sure if Hurricane was listening, but it didn’t matter for Swift. She needed this time to air out her own feelings and to collect her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she continued.
“I knew Fire Star was up to something. I kept running into him after the incident by the lake, and sometimes I swore he was following me. A few times we crossed paths in the alleyways between buildings. Something was just… off in the way he acted. He didn’t say anything to me like usual, he just watched and waited. I had always thought of him as just an annoying jock before, but now he actually seemed frightening to me. I tried to avoid him as best I could, but he was always there, always waiting.”
Hurricane’s rapid heartbeat was slowly decelerating and his breaths were becoming more even. Swift realized she was holding onto him tightly as she recounted the worst of her story.
“I didn’t expect anything to happen at the exercise. I figured if something bad was going to happen, it’d be in the dead of night behind a building or something. It must’ve been almost immediately after your century broke through our air defenses that a pegasus came up to me and told me that another blue squad was circling around our ranks to take the flag from behind, and that he needed my help to close the gap. There was just too much chaos in the air for me to notice he was one of Fire Star’s friends, so I raced towards the rear to try and stop the squad before it was too late.
“Of course, there wasn’t a squad at all. I saw a trio of pegasi clustered on the ground in one of the clearings, so I descended on them, thinking they were the squad I was told about. I should’ve recognized his fiery coat anywhere, for no sooner had I landed then Fire Star and his companions were at my throat, trying to take me down. I fought back, landing some pretty good hits on Fire Star and his friends before they finally overwhelmed me. I suppose when I saw what he intended to do was when I started screaming, hoping that anypony would come and help me.”
She looked at the black stallion, who had calmed down and was staring quietly into the rain. There was another rumble of thunder, and the sky descended from a dull gray light to a thick shadow over the entire camp, reminiscent of night. “Those screams brought you there, and you did save me, Hurricane. It’s… unfortunate that Fire Star met his end that way, but he got everything he deserved, and then some.” As Hurricane recovered, Swift let herself break down, clutching onto Hurricane’s body for dear life. “He would’ve killed me if you hadn’t shown up, and the gods know what else he would’ve done. I always figured that his psyche was a little off, but I never knew it was that… that…”
It was Hurricane’s turn to hold Swift as she crumbled into tears. He didn’t say anything as he held her, gently running a hoof through her mane and down her neck. There wasn’t anything that needed to be said. The rain slowly began to let up as the clouds pushed their way past the fort, the skies gradually brightening and the fog receding over the lake.
-----
“Can you believe we’re here again?” shouted Silver Sword over the thrumming of drums and the cheering of the crowd. Hurricane smiled and shook his head, flexing the blades along his wings. The cohort was marching towards the arch between Main Street and the emperor’s palace in Stratopolis, fully geared in brilliantly shining armor. Dusk Strike barked an order, and his century quickly tightened up in military formation. Hurricane wiped the grin from his face and set his expressionless eyes on the headpiece of the soldier in front of him.
A wall of noise hit the Cirrans as they marched into the street, and within seconds Hurricane’s ears were ringing. He hardly faltered, and he did an excellent job of maintaining his soldierly air as he marched to the beat of hundreds of hooves against the cloudstone street. He became absorbed in counting the beat as he marched, feeling as though his heart was attuned to it as well.
It had been three months ago that the conflict began with the failed assassination of the Emperor. Just three months prior, Hurricane had been sitting in those stands as thousands of soldiers marched past him. How many of those soldiers were fighting now or were already dead he did not know. All he knew was that now he was one of the legionaries marching through the streets, ready to head to war. Was there another colt on the edge of the draft’s age limit sitting in the stands right now, watching as Hurricane and Silver Sword and so many others proudly displayed Cirra’s might? By the time that colt was drafted, who would be left from this cohort?
Hurricane realized his steps had dropped slightly off tempo, so he quickly readjusted to the rhythmic one-two stomping of the procession. Despite his continual worry about the fate of those before him and those who would come after, Hurricane couldn’t deny he was proud. He was a fully-fledged legionary, a member of the strongest fighting force in Dioda, if not the whole world. The safety of the Empire fell to him and his fellow legionaries, and he would fight to the death to protect it. He was following right in his father's hoofsteps, fighting so that others wouldn’t have to. He was fighting for Twister and his mom, he was fighting for Zephyrus, he was fighting for the Emperor. And he was proud to do so.
He wished that his family could have been here to see him today. He’d kept up with their correspondence while at camp, but it had been an incredibly long time since their teary departure at Zephyrus. Twister had actually found a steady relationship with Echo Wing, the son of Zephyrus’ blacksmith. That in itself was ironic, because in complete contrast to Twist’s hyper and aloof personality, Step was quiet and reserved, speaking when necessary and preferring to let his actions rather than his words define him. He was a respectable young colt, and Hurricane had always liked him. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect match for his little sister.
Thunder Gale had been feeling much better lately. Hurricane laughed inwardly as he recalled reading the scratchy mouthwriting of his father as he wrote about how he had walked to town and back by himself for the first time in months. It was a big accomplishment for the old pegasus, and Hurricane knew he was proud that he felt he wasn’t decaying away into uselessness around the house.
Home. Hurricane wished he could see it one last time before he had to go to the front, but knew it was not to be. Despite the Legion’s assurances that it was winning key victories in the east, it was pushing for more and more troops to be sent its way at an ever increasing rate. When the parade was over, the legionaries would spend one last day in Stratopolis before flying to Nimbus, where the actual combat would begin. There were no assurances anypony would make it back alive, so it was up to Hurricane to enjoy the time he had left rather than worry about the future. With one last twitch of the corners of his mouth, Hurricane pushed the worrying thoughts out of his mind and lifted his chin a little higher into the sun.
When the legion entered the Plaza of the Emperor, Dusk Strike angled his century towards the side and lined with the rest of the cohort. Hurricane spared a quick glimpse around the plaza before returning to attentiveness. The square was filling up with numerous pegasi from the procession, all facing towards a raised platform at the end of the plaza. There must have been nearly ten thousand legionaries already crammed into the precinct, and still more were piling into the rear. Hurricane guessed that many of these soldiers came from different camps scattered around the Stratopolis region, as there were far too many to be from Fort Updraft alone.
A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Hurricane’s neck, and he bit his lip as he fought the urge to scratch it away. His thin armor had already absorbed an uncomfortable amount of heat from the sun, and he felt like his feathers were going to be singed by the wing blades. Next to him, Silver Sword was panting lightly. Hurricane wouldn’t be surprised if it was nearly a hundred degrees out. It was the peak of summer, and the month of High Sun didn’t earn its name from a reputation for mild weather.
After a few additional minutes, the entirety of the new Cirran 8th Legion was within the plaza. There must have been nearly forty thousand legionaries from several newly trained legions arranged in neat blocks by the time there was movement on the platform. A finely armored pegasus with a drab coat stepped forward to eclipse the sun, with a brilliantly white companion at his side. Emperor Haysar and Imperator Gold Feather were flanked on either side by a contingent of twenty Praetorians. There would be no risk of another attempt on the Emperor’s life this time.
Gold Feather stepped to the edge of the platform and squinted his eyes as he peered into the crowd. Hurricane supposed that he was looking for his daughter, but amidst the sea of nearly identical pegasi, such a task would be impossible. Realizing he was wasting his time, the Imperator rose and spoke with a thunderous voice that cleared the plaza with ease.
“Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem,” began Gold Feather in the ancient pegasus tongue. “Before the Legion there was nothing, and after the Legion there will be nothing. You have heard these lines many times during training, but only now do you fully comprehend what it means. You are true legionaries, ready to fight and die at the Emperor’s command for the glory of Cirra. Your lives before mean nothing now, and now there is nothing after your service with the Legion. Separate yourselves from who you were and live for your country, for your fellow legionaries. The fear of death, taught to us as foals by our parents, must be forgotten. There is no greater honor than to die on the battlefield for the Empire. If the Gods have favor on you so that you may live, the Legion will remain a part of you, now until the day you die. Tomorrow, you will be sent to the front lines, where the griffon hordes terrorize our towns and cities. Their mindless numbers shall be crushed by the wrath of an Empire wronged, an Empire that demands blood be paid for this treachery. You are the strength of Cirra, her shield and her sword. The Legion is the Empire’s first and last line of defense, and until the last pegasus be wiped from this world Cirra will live on! But we shall not meet our end, for the Gods smile upon us, proud that we remain strong in a world filled with terror. And with this war, we shall finally strike down the foul crossbreeds that seek nothing but the destruction of Cirra. May you go forth to the battle, with my blessing!”
The white stallion snapped his wings open to his sides and extended a hoof directly in front of him in a stiff Cirran salute. He was met with thousands of pairs of open wings, some bladed and some bare, from the army of legionaries filling the plaza. Lowering his hoof and folding his wings back against his body, Gold Feather nodded stiffly and stepped back. There was a loud crash as thousands of hooves simultaneously stomped back onto the ground and wings compressed against armor. Then the drab coated pegasus stepped forward, his red cloak fluttering over his left shoulder.
“Legionaries. Comrades. Friends. Brothers. Today we stand, ready to head to war. Our wings tremble in excitement. Our hearts race with the winds that have shaped our spirit for millennia. War is in our blood, and damned is the child of the sky who would cower in the face of a threat to his nation.” Hurricane felt himself shiver as he listened to Haysar’s speech. The Emperor’s voice, though not nearly as enthusiastic as Gold Feather’s, carried within its low and measured meter a hidden power that could not possibly be matched by any other pony. It was the kind of voice that even a foal could tell stemmed only from the purest form of authority. The entire plaza was deathly silent as he spoke, and his eyes could have struck any bird out of the sky with the weight carried behind them.
“The griffons seek to undo us. How quickly it is that they forget what happens when the anger of Cirra is tested. They did not learn their lesson during the High Noon War, so we shall teach it to them again. Only when the griffons are little more than text in the records shall Cirra know peace. Therefore I ask that you show them no mercy. May the Gods watch over our battles, and may the last griffon fall before the year is out. The blessing of the Emperor and the senate be upon you.”
Haysar did not ask for a salute. He merely looked over his troops with a gaze of succinct praise, seeming to tell each and every legionary that he was proud of their service and commitment to the Empire. His sight passed over Hurricane, lingering upon his iron clad form for several seconds before continuing on its sweeping path. Hurricane knew that the Emperor intentionally held him in his sights longer than the other legionaries, but as for why he couldn’t tell.
The commander of the Cirran 8th Legion shouted an order, and as one the pegasi began to file out of the plaza in neat rank and order. Gold Feather remained standing and saluted the soldiers as they marched past, while Emperor Haysar stood stiffly with the usual expressionless face decorating his figure. From there it was only a short walk down the street until they reached the gaping maw of the south gate, where the neat lines of soldiers began to break down and separate by century.
Dusk Strike led his soldiers to an unoccupied stretch of cloud and turned to face them. The corners of his mouth were ever so slightly perked, and he regarded the ponies in front of him like a proud father.
“Damn good show today, legionaries. You finally did it. I figured you’d all be dead by now, but look where we are. I got sixty of some of the finest soldiers in the Legion under my command, and I’ll be damned if we can’t finish this war ourselves. Excellent discipline and an impressive show of force. Go out and enjoy yourselves today. You earned it.”
Without waiting for a reply, Dusk Strike nodded at them and flew off with several other centurions. Hurricane, Silver Sword, and Shear Point located each other and formed up in a neat triangle just under the gates.
“Last fun day we’ll have in a while,” commented Silver Sword, watching as several clusters of pegasi flew off in every possible direction.
“Then we better make the most of it, right?” replied Hurricane. “This’ll be our last chance to see Stratopolis for a long time, and the last time we were here together we kinda missed out on that opportunity.”
Shear Point was the first in the air. “No kidding. Now would be a great time to go visit the Cloudosseum, or possibly tour the ruins of the original Cirran tribe, or maybe even take a look through the emperor’s palace.”
“Or we could go to the bar and get a spot before they all fill up. They’ve got some mighty good ale up here, nothing like that dingy stuff we get at camp,” suggested Silver, licking his lips in anticipation of a good drink.
“If this is going to be our last night in Stratopolis, I’d much rather remember it,” Hurricane countered. “I’m going to see if I can find Swift Spear. She’d know all the good places to see.”
“Two strokes ahead of you,” quipped the familiar voice of Swift. The trio of ponies turned to see her hovering just a few paces behind them, armor shining in the early afternoon sun.
“You know, it’s kind of creepy how you always show up out of nowhere, Swift,” remarked Silver. Swift Spear just shrugged her shoulders and settled down next to them.
“You guys just don’t see me coming until it’s too late.” She gently tapped a hoof against Hurricane’s helmet, causing him to flinch. “That kind of situational awareness, or rather lack thereof, will get you killed.”
Shear Point chuckled. “Well, nopony’s trying to kill us now, so there’s no need to be so vigilant. Hey, would you mind taking us through a tour of the city? Hurricane figured you’d probably know best what there is to see.”
Swift smiled. “Of course, I’d be glad to. It’s still much too early to get drunk, so we might as well take in something we’ll remember.” With a surge of powerful wings, Swift was in the air, the blades along her wings giving the impression that they were glowing. “You guys coming or not?”
“Oh I’m definitely coming,” answered Silver Sword, putting himself in the air with two flaps from his wings. Hurricane and Shear Point weren’t too far behind, hovering just in front of Silver and Swift. “Race to the palace, anypony?”
“You’re on!” exclaimed Hurricane, lining up next to his friend.
“Good! Last one there’s a featherless foal!” shouted Silver Sword as he took off. Hurricane and Shear Point quickly followed in pursuit, while Swift hovered for a second longer, shaking her head.
“Stallions,” she muttered, before flying after them.
-----
The last traces of pink sunlight disappeared beneath the mighty city as night overtook Cirra. Civilians leaned out of their doors and ignited the lanterns fixated to the walls of their houses before retreating within the pearly white structures to settle down for the night. But with the descent of the sun, Stratopolis did not grow quieter. It merely escalated with a new sound, the sound of the night, amplified by the many bars and taverns that served as speakers for the new noise.
Downtown Stratopolis was home to many wonders of the city’s red-light district. Brothels could be found on every street corner and prostitutes were as common a sight as the stars in the night sky, but the real attractions were the myriad of bars to choose from. Streets in downtown were not known by street names but rather by the name of the bar that occupied the center.
One of these bars, The Split Helm, eclipsed its competitors on adjacent streets with its raucous chorus of voices and crashing mugs. The Helm was a favorite bar for the soldiers of the Legion, and on this night it was especially packed. Hundreds of legionaries tried to cram into a building designed for only a hundred at best, and the spillover clogged the streets with drunken figures in various stages of intoxication. There was a steady rotation of soldiers going into and out of the bar, but its population remained constant.
Hurricane and his friends all occupied stools at the bar itself, half-empty mugs sitting before them while they talked. The ale was fine for such a low profile building in downtown, and before he knew it, Hurricane was already on his third draft. Silver Sword and Shear Point had long since blown by him, a dozen empty mugs sitting on the bar between them. Only Swift Spear seemed to be pacing herself.
“…and the size of it? You’d have enough room to pit two light infantry centuries against each other in there!” Drops of liquor freed themselves from Silver’s tankard as he swung his forelegs about, gesticulating wildly to Shear Point and two other armored mares sitting next to him. He was currently in the process of describing the palace to the mares, remarking on the size and grandeur of the marble construction. Hurricane and Swift Spear were content to sit and listen to their enthusiastic friend, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the burn of the alcohol down their throats.
“That’s awesome,” commented one of the mares. “I wish we’d gotten the chance to tour the palace, it sounds like it was neat.”
Silver Sword shrugged. “Just another day in the life of the Steel Pegasus. Though I have to thank my friend Swift here for giving us all the tour.” He gestured a hoof towards Swift, receiving a small nod of acknowledgement from the manila mare. The other two mares smiled, then quickly refocused their attention on Silver Sword as he continued his tale.
“The palace might as well be made out of the morning sky the way Silver describes it,” said Swift, looking at her reflection in the mug. “I’ve never heard a more glorified account in all my years in this city.”
“To be fair, it was impressive,” advanced Hurricane. “I mean, to take all that marble from over a hundred miles away and haul it up here to build one magnificent palace? It’s the kind of stuff from fairytales.”
“Father did say that it took nearly fifteen years to construct the palace and the senate house, and the emperors since then have only made it bigger. Long after this empire falls and the next one takes its place, they’ll still be there, one way or another.” With one final gulp, Swift emptied her tankard and pushed it away, raising a hoof for a new one to be brought over. By the time her bracer-clad foreleg returned to the table another mug had materialized before her, foam spilling over the wooden edges.
“You actually think the Empire will fall?” Hurricane asked, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Even though Swift was Imperator Gold Feather’s daughter, saying anything negative about Cirra was often grounds for suspicion and in some cases, arrest. Usually this wasn’t much of a problem, as the Empire was well governed and provided for its citizens, but the few cases where it was… the alcohol brought back suppressed memories from his foalhood of emptied houses and public displays, bloodied bodies tied to whipping posts as Haysar's regime asserted itself and let the population know exactly what it thought of 'traitors'. It had been much too frequent in the years following the High Noon War, where many Cirrans questioned the Empire’s handling of postwar Gryphus and the tightening of control on their lives. However, these details, like many other contradictory events to the Empire’s official history, were struck from the record books and forgotten about within a few years.
Swift must have sensed his concern, because she lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned closer to him. “Not this war, not this time, but one day it will. Empires only last so long, no matter what the senators claim. Eventually we’re going to find ourselves outmatched, and when we are, will Cirra be able to adapt quickly enough to survive? If we can’t, then we’re gone. And if it’s the griffons that beat us, then we’re really done for. We’ve kicked them around too much over the past four centuries, and they want vengeance.” Again, her thoughts were punctuated by a sip of beer. “That’s what this war is about, and they won’t stop until we beat them down or they kill every last one of us, leaving our burning cities as monuments to Cirra’s fall.”
Hurricane was taken aback by Swift’s straightforwardness. “You really believe that?”
Her response was a solemn nod. “Yes. Do you believe everything the Empire feeds you? The Emperor is not immortal, the senate is not all-knowing. And, most importantly, the griffons are not the soulless, barbaric crossbreeds that the Empire wants us to believe they are. Gryphus is a proud nation, almost as proud as Cirra, and their military is highly disciplined and deadly. Their blacksmiths are some of the finest in the world, and they can produce better quality steel than us at a higher rate.” She sighed gravely and shook her head. “The senate doesn’t give Gryphus enough credit, and we’re badly underestimating them. That’s a recipe for disaster for any empire.”
“Then we’ll just have to do whatever it takes to keep the Empire safe. Pegasi are crafty and intelligent, so I’m sure we’ll find a way to take everything that Gryphus gives us. But enough about that. How about we just enjoy this time while we can?” Hurricane’s right wing was slowly extending as he spoke, and before he knew what he was doing the feathers were already lightly laying across Swift’s back. Rather than recoil and hit him as he feared, Swift pulled closer towards his side, humming softly. Emboldened, Hurricane fully enveloped her body with his wing, feeling her warm breath against his coat.
In the center of the bar, a quartet of young privates were singing one of the Legion’s favorite songs, forelegs linked over each other’s shoulders as they swayed back and forth to the drunken lyrics. It didn’t take long for more soldiers, grunts and officers alike, to add their voices to the chorus.
The journey begins,
Starts from within,
Things that I need to know.
The song of the bird
Echoed in words
Flying for the need to fly.
The song was pouring out into the street, traveling down the perfectly white surface to the north, seeking to permeate through the darkness and fill the city with its lively chorus. There was scarcely a legionary within The Split Helm that wasn’t contributing in some way to the wonderful tune. Even Hurricane found himself singing along, rubbing his wing gently up and down Swift’s back.
Thoughts endless in flight
Day turns to night
Questions you ask your soul.
Which way do I go?
How fast is too slow?
The journey has its time, then ends.
If a stallion can fly o'er an ocean
And no mountains can get in his way
Will he fly on forever
Searching for something to believe?
Even the bartenders had slowed down, pausing in place to join in to the song. Tankards were raised high and several legionaries joined the original trio in the center of the bar, adding in their own shuffling hoofsteps.
From above I can see from the heavens.
Down below see the storm raging on.
And somewhere is the answer
There is a hope to carry on.
When I finally return
Things that I learned
Carry me back to home.
The thoughts that I feed
Planting a seed
With time will begin to grow.
The more that I try,
The more that I fly,
The answer in itself will be there.
As the song came to an end, the patrons stomped their hooves to their fellow legionaries, cheering them for their performance. The trio bowed and returned to their seats, laughing and smiling as they sat down. The bartender immediately dealt out a fresh round for everypony on the house, rousing another set of cheers. Swift was saying something into Hurricane’s side as he grabbed their tankards from the bartender, but he couldn’t tell what it was through all the noise.
Emptying his mug in several deep gulps, Hurricane set it down on the bar and held Swift closer to him, smiling at her lovely face as she lay against him, eyes shut and a hint of a smile left on her muzzle. He knew in a few days they’d all find themselves in the worst kind of hell a pony could imagine, and many wouldn’t make it. Tonight was likely the last semblance of normalcy he’d experience for a long time, maybe even for the rest of his life.
Placing a kiss on Swift’s forehead, Hurricane helped her up and left the bar, leaving a generous tip on the table. The night sky was the definition of peaceful, separated by millions of miles from the troubles of the poor planet below. He wished he could save the moment, knowing he’d need it in the months ahead.
As they walked back to the camp, leaning against each other and sharing their warmth, the stars slowly winked out their cheerful faces, letting the somber cloak of night dominate the last of the sky.
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No I am not talented enough to generate a whole series of song lyrics on my own. I took them from here, one of my favorite games of all time. I thought the music was fitting for the tone of the chapter.
Anyways, keep on reading. I'm interested to know what you guys think
Lawl, Ace Combat 5 reference.
Good chapter by the way, this is good stuff, feature worthy imho.
Somewhere off in the distance as the Cirran senator Cato the Elder's speech draws to an end, he closes with this statement.
"Furthermore, it is my opinion that Gryphus must be destroyed."
Carthage anypony?
Love it.
Moar, moar I say!
Those two...so adorable...<3
Don't feel too bad Hurricane, that guy basically committed suicide on your sword. If it wasn't you, eventually it would have been someone else with who knows how many other victims along the way. Considering the way he presented himself towards Swift and talked about always getting the mare he wanted, I wouldn't be surprised if he was already a rapist even before joining the Legion.
I do like the Hurricane & Swift relationship, here's hoping that not where the tragedy tag comes in.
*sigh* i am once more struck by the stupidity of war by the salvo of those opening stanzas.
three contradicting statements if there ever were any. if you want peace, my friend, make peace, not conflict. if you want happines, then make happiness, not tears. and if you want life, my friend, then make it. make it how you will, with what you will, and under whatever rules you will.
sometimes, i think humanity is too stupid to be considered anything but a breed of exceptionally clever monkey. war is the perfect illustration of why.
the irony of war and conflict is that it destroys what you fight for in the first place. sure, the circle of life goes on and the rebuilding process will begin soon and the world will recover--but there was no need to cause the conflict in the first place. there is never a need.
2255959 doesnt make it right. the thing is, he DIDNT commit suicide on the edge of hurricanes sword, and regardless of how many other victims there may have been later, and regardless if we think he was a rapist, it still doesnt justify his death at the hand of hurricane.
how much you wanna bet? if things get bad enough, i bet you will surrender. nothing after the legion my foot. you will do whatever you need to do to ensure the survival of your race. even if that means surrender, or running away. please. your empty words only go so far.
1584673 so thats one of your favoite games of all time? huh. that explains a lot actually.
at least in this chapter we see that not everyone believes the emporer so blindly. thanks for that. but narratively speaking, that was the only thing of any value in this chapter. and before you bring up the continuation of the romance, i dont give that any narrative value. a story is driven off of the plot and the characters, not the romance.
all in all, nothing more to this chapter than a cute little "last night before the descent into hell" scene. it gives a good feeling of calm before the storm, but not much else. give next chapter more substance, please.
"Before the Legion there was nothing, and after the Legion there will be nothing." This should be "Ante Legionem nihil erat, et nihil erit post Legionem."
Also, I see I'm not the only one getting ceterum censeo Gryphum esse delendum vibes here.
Hurricane x Swift
Simply adorable and a beautiful relationship, oh how I hope this does not end tragically as I think it will.
War quickly approaches these young ponies. I hope they weren't too drunk to not remember that night. Hurricane x Swift is absolutely beautiful. Two deadly, young ponies as a couple? I really like that. Nice song there at the end too. I look forward to crying in the near future.
~SolidFire
2255959 I've seen enough war movies to know where this is going...
You put a reference to one of the greatest games of all time...I love you man
"Yet here's a spot! Out, out, damned spot! Out I say! "
RexDraconum, a.k.a ArchangelGabriel.
Not going to lie. I'm kinda sad there is no romance tag.
To create so much lore from nothing but a name and a episode is really just..wow