Into the Storm: The Flight of Firefly

by Firesight

Second Offensive: 5 - The Battle of Harness Hill

Dear readers:

Methinks I say this far too often, but I must apologize again for the dearth of entries of late. Especially on the cusp of renewed combat, when ‘tis finally time for the spotlight to fall on our beleaguered comrades in the Equestrian Army. ‘Twas not planned, but unavoidable as I was spending considerable time making trip arrangements with General Rock Biter, including locating and inviting some additional ponies along for the visit who will be revealed shortly.

‘Tis been said before, but ‘tis worth saying again: Though ‘twas the Navy and elite groups such as the Bolt Knights that would gain an undue share of wartime fame, ‘twas in fact the Equestrian Army that bore the brunt of the fighting and casualties, and ‘twas unquestionably its many earth pony and unicorn soldiers who held the line and eventually turned the winds of war in Equestria’s favor.

But a delay in continuing this tale was necessary for not one, but two reasons. First, much to his own surprise, General Rock Biter found he wished to retrace his hoofsteps from the opening days of the war, starting with his old encampment at Fort Poppy southwest of Maresk and from there, proceed along the Harness Highway to find the sites of his initial battles and perchance even the mare named Sweet Switchel he met but once.

So I helped arrange his trip from his farm at Stalliongrad—he simply does not leave home much any longer—and in the process, I introduced him more formally to the surviving Bolt Knights and our herds. At least, those who were available.

As ‘twas his journey into his wartime memories, one I was merely present for as a fellow pony and soldier, I will allow him to describe his trip and what he found. For now, I will say that ‘twas not an entirely happy experience for him, but he also found some surprising catharsis along the way.

The second matter concerned Gavian. Despite my anxiety, his visit to the Kingdom has thus far gone well, and I have received regular updates on it from the fast couriers of the newly founded Gryphon Express delivery service dispatched across the Antlertic Ocean. His airship trip from Nova Ocelota to Aresia took three days and ended at the Kingdom’s port city of Catlais, where he and his family received a royal air carriage and Paladin escort the rest of the way.

After another half-day of travel, they were given diplomatic quarters and allowed to both eat and rest before being brought before Queen Jeyenne herself, at her newly constructed royal palace on the topmost level of Arnau. ‘Tis the Kingdom’s new mountainside capital and stronghold, carved not unlike Canterlot directly out of its granite face.

He was escorted to Aresia and then presented to her by Ambassador Kaval and Marquis Ampok personally, for which I am very grateful to both. ‘Tis worth noting that I offered to come, but ‘twas turned down, with my old foe and friend warning that my presence would likely make Gavian’s acceptance in the former Empire more difficult, not less.

He, of course, promised me that he and his Uxor—the Aeric word for ‘wife’—would look after Gavian, and deal with any issues and outright challenges he could not.

The rest I will leave for Gavian to tell, in the form of his latest letter, which I have annotated in places for explanation to those unfamiliar with his immediate family.

Dear Mother,

As always, I hope this letter finds you well. I write now to tell you that at long last, we have been received by Queen Jeyenne; presented before her court. ‘Twas certainly expected, but what happened next ‘twas most certainly not!

‘Twould be a lie to say I was not nervous over our meeting, especially still disoriented as I was by the trip and the unfamiliar place we found ourselves. Despite our opulent palace quarters—a place that strikes a far different but equally grand tone to Canterlot Castle—we could not sleep that first night in Arnau, both due to anxiety and the unfamiliar environs we found ourselves in.

The Falcine mountain range Arnau was built on ‘tis said to be from where our race originally sprung. ‘Tis a belief my very blood seems to confirm just by being here, but ‘tis still a place I have never been.

Cara [Caracala Coreq, Gavian’s wife —Firefly] fretted endlessly how other gryphons would receive us, given the slightly cool reaction we got from some of the skiff crew on the journey across the Antlertic, whilst Sparrow Hawk [their 8-year old firstborn daughter], misses her pony friends already and is unused to being around so many gryphons; she is also afraid to try speaking Aeric for fear her accent will earn her immediate ostracization.

Though the Queen welcomed us warmly, ‘twas not a universal sentiment. Some senior nobles openly argued that I was not truly a Gryphon after siding with Equestria during the war, further doubting what they’d been told of my battle feats given my small size.

I was well aware that such a thing could happen thanks to the Ambassador’s coaching, and I already knew what was required for me to be fully accepted. So despite my fatigue, I dared one particularly obtuse noble who slandered me to duel me—to find out just how much of a gryphon I truly was. I did not doubt the outcome, even though I was not at my best; I could tell just by looking at him that he was no match for me.

‘Twas then the Queen told us that there was no need for a duel, as I had already won the greatest duel in all of gryphon history. She informed her court that if anygryphon discounted my combat ability or commitment to the gryphon race, then they should see that duel directly. ‘Twas then she unveiled her first surprise, and ‘twas one that neither I nor even the Ambassador and Marquis had any idea was coming:

A memory recording of my duel with Thunderbolt, taken directly from the mind of the disguised Raven eagless who had been present in Cloudsdale that night!

I had already seen one such recording through the eyes of the late and sorely missed Still Way. He presented it to me whilst I lay fallow following the duel, seeking to salve my severe pain. But this one presented it from the viewpoint of the crowd, and ‘twas exactly as the eagless had described it.

‘Twas a surreal experience to see as the Queen’s personal Magus projected it. The sight of my younger self engaged in mortal combat with such a powerful and implacable foe caused both Cara and Sparrow to cling to me as they saw it for the first time, with the latter clutching me hard and crying before all was said and done.

Indeed, all present fell silent as my battle with Thunderbolt unfolded, and by the time it ended, nary a word of additional neighsaying was spoken. Upon its conclusion, Queen Jeyenne issued a proclamation that the recording of the duel should be enshrined at the under-construction Kingdom Hall of Heroes “so that all gryphons may witness and revere it for as long as our sacred and mighty race exists.”

She would not hear of any objection, not even from me, as I tried to protest that I did not wish to be recognized for that fight—that I had simply done what any honorable gryphon would do.

“‘Tis simply not true, as countless Imperial soldiers, subjects and assassins fell to this monster in pony form. ‘Tis certain to us that none could defeat this dread demon but thou, Gavian Ravenoff, and thou art far too humble for thy feat!” she told me in a tone that brooked no argument.

‘Twas then the second surprise was unveiled, as the current earth gryphon commander of the Kingdom’s elite Talaeus, Tribune Trigris Rex, stepped forth and saluted me. He then presented me with my twin Raven scimitars, which had been taken from me before I entered the royal hall, inviting me to spar with him before the Queen herself!

Though honored, I initially declined, explaining I simply could not give him a good match in my current sleepless and disoriented state. To which he replied that wartime never allowed for such luxuries, and the true test of a warrior’s mettle was whether he could still function and fight well when he was not at his best.

‘Twas little I could say to that, as ‘tis certain his words were true. So I accepted my blades, and whilst my wife and cubs watched in some worry, I reared up and took my guard stance. He invited me to attack, to which I replied—was he not the challenger here?

Agreeing I was correct, he did so, and was on me with such speed the duel nearly ended before it began. Though I am hardly a sprightly sixteen-year old cub any longer, ‘twas still a surprise that another gryphon—particularly an earth gryphon!—could match my speed.

Still, you wouldst be proud of me, mother—I did not succumb. In only barely parrying his first blow, I got the full measure of his speed and skill, or so I thought, as the shock of his attack jolted my mind out of its stupor and limbs out of their sluggishness. My blood pumping and adrenaline surging, I was initially forced back but finally found my combat rhythm and began to meet him on more even terms.

Methinks I succeeded in at least holding my own for the better part of a minute, but in the end, with my fatigue building and focus faltering anew, I simply could not stand against him as he finally penetrated my guard to throw me to the floor with a single set of talons, his heavy scimitar shortly at my throat.

‘Twas certain to me I had failed whatever test I had been given, and yet… ‘twas not sounds of disappointment and derision that greeted me from the assembled nobles, but agape beaks and other silent expressions of awe.

“Such surprising skill…” the Talaeus Tribune mused as I lay beneath his blade. “Such spirit and strength of will, coupled with such an unusual but effective combat style. In my estimation, his victory over the demon Thunderbolt was no accident, or a mere byproduct of Captain Typhoon’s technique. He is indeed worthy, My Queen.” He sheathed his blade whilst offering me his talons.

“Worthy?” I just managed through panting breaths. “But I lost!”

“Of course you did. I am twenty years your junior and could even hold my own against Ambassador Kaval himself!” The Tribune stated in a matter-of-fact manner reminiscent of his predecessor in his prime, who smiled as he watched from the side. “But you lasted nearly a minute, when few could stand against me for more than mere moments. That is why they are amazed,” he said with a grin and motion of a foreleg to the still-stunned nobles around me.

“I tried to put you down quickly but could not, and ‘twas thus forced to slowly wear you down whilst I looked for an opening, which you did not provide until your guard blade was a fraction of a second slow. ‘Twas an impressive display, and I hope you will grant me the honor of another match, when you are fully rested. And are in proper uniform.”

“Proper uniform?” I said between pants as I finally accepted his help, at which time my daughter ran at and hugged me despite my wife’s admonition, trying to glare the Tribune away from me.

“Indeed,” he said as he smiled warmly at my daughter despite her ruffled feathers and trilling growl. “And to that end, I invite you to visit the Talaeus training grounds tomorrow morning, after you have had a proper night’s rest and meal…”

You wouldst forgive me, mother, if I leave the story there, but I am quite tired and finally feel I can sleep. I have nary an idea of what he intends aside from the coy grins on the faces of Ambassador Kaval and Marquis Ampok, but ‘tis certain I will know tomorrow.

Of course, my beloved son. Needless to say, I know of what they plan for you, and though my feelings on the matter are… mixed, ‘tis no doubt an incredible honor they will shortly bestow on you. Blindside, Stormrunner and I look forward to seeing you in that new uniform, though Fell Flight seems somewhat less enthusiastic. But then again, methinks she has always been difficult to impress!

I am happy for him if ‘tis his wish, Captain. But perchance you wouldst understand if I care almost as little for them as I do the Ravens!

Greetings, one and all. ‘Tis Fell Flight speaking now. I have accompanied the Captain and her herdmates to meet General Rock Biter as he begins his long trip down memory wind, but I will not be staying long. My herd stallion Oberen and I are off to Nova Ocelota for a long-needed vacation, seeking the chance to reconnect as the winter solstice nears. Our foals have been left under the care of Aves Osprey and the third mare of our herd, Andromeda, until we return in time for Hearth’s Warming.

Though some ponies might say that a stormswept coastal fishing village full of seedy pubs and inns—a place where darkness falls for twenty hours in winter—is not their idea of a vacation resort, I must disagree. Oberen wishes to both hunt the animal denizens of the frigid interior and charter a fishing vessel to try his wing at spearing sabrefish, whilst I look forward to everything from the northern lights to imbibing potent gryphon spirits.

‘Twould also be a lie to say I do not wish the chance to brawl with the thestral and earth gryphon sailors back to back with my stout soldier stallion, enjoying far friendlier fights than the mortal combat we knew back in the war! We are further told by Captain Firefly they also have some excellent saunas and spring-fed hot tubs to enjoy, allowing us to soak in warmth whilst coastal tempests and blizzards from the interior rage.

‘Tis also a chance to enjoy large helpings of meat again, especially given they have ample quantities of not just seafood but many exotic game meats from the wild interior unknown in Thestralslovakia. As you brought some back for me, Captain, methinks I would be more than happy to save some for you!

With apologies, I believe I will decline that generous offer, First Lieutenant.

But I do hope you enjoy yourself, and if I may make one additional suggestion? Try the Gletscher Inn, founded by a gryphon trading clan. Good spirits, good company, a good view of the docks, and a Nightborne-run restaurant that serves both fruit and fish await you there.

If you’re lucky, ‘tis possible they will even have mangoes available, but don’t get your hopes up—‘tis an infrequent treat that far north, as shipments of them are rare, and when they arrive, they tend to go through them quickly given the population of bat-ponies present!

And if you want a true challenge? Simply insult the honor or masculinity of the earth gryphon ship master named Jacquar Passer, who frequents the Inn’s pub when he is not out sailing. His eyepatch and the multiple saber scars on his jaguar-spotted and osprey-feathered body make him impossible to miss. He will be more than happy to brawl, but do not be surprised if he knocks you flat on your flank!

He is no slouch in the realm of combat, having commanded Imperial surface vessels during the war; he can tell some truly harrowing tales of fighting off Hippogriff and Harpie attacks on them. If he finds your fighting skill worthy, methinks he may even offer you that fishing charter for free?

I look forward to hearing of your exploits over Hearth’s Warming, but until then, we have kept our readers for long enough. ‘Twas my original intention to have an additional section detailing the confrontation that occurred when Fell Flight and I met the next day after Gavian’s duel with Thunderbolt. But upon reflection, ‘twould take the focus from where it belongs—General Rock Biter and the Equestrian Army.

So ‘tis to him I pass the quill again, as the first battle of his original regiment loomed.

—Firefly

Thank you, Captain. And thank you as well for helping to arrange this trip. ‘Tis odd, but ‘tis the first time I have been away from my farm in nearly ten years. ‘Tis also strange that I settled and found some degree of peace in the city I defended that marked the bitterest battle of the war, but perchance I simply thought that for as much as I did to destroy it, ‘twas only fitting that I helped revive it.

Greetings to all once more. ‘Tis Rock Biter speaking again—and before anypony asks, I prefer not to be addressed as a General, as I consider myself far more a farmer than soldier now. Regardless, ‘twas with no little trepidation that I arrived in Maresk courtesy of a Naval transport detailed by Captain Firefly, fearful of flashbacks.

I expected to see her and First Lieutenant Fell Flight, who introduced her herd’s thestral husband to me—a fine Nightborne stallion, to be sure. What I did not expect was to be greeted by six surviving soldiers of my old Daisy regiment, who told me that they wished to accompany me on my journey.

That they would not let me face my demons without their aid any more than they would have abandoned me during the course of the campaign against the gryphons.

I admit I was initially less than pleased at their appearance, given I told Captain Firefly I wished a private tour only, with my old inclinations to avoid former comrades rearing its ugly head again. But they would not hear of me facing that fight alone, and thus informed me that they would escort me the entire way.

To my surprise—and yes, I know I am using that phrase much in my writing—I found myself touched despite my ire, never having thought I inspired such intense loyalty in my soldiers. For why would I be remembered well by them given the heavy losses we oft suffered that were in large measure due to my stubborn defenses?

Defenses where I simply was willing to pay the full measure of blood to ensure our lines held, and the gryphons could not advance swiftly enough to overwhelm us.

‘Tis an odd feeling for me to enjoy the company of old comrades, yet here I now am, writing this from our old campground southwest of Maresk, which back then was a field of poppies. ‘Tis now a full-blown orchard which grows not just the peaches some of my unknowing soldiers ate for their final meal, but corn and wheat as well for export to gryphon lands. In a further sign of how much things have changed, there was a gryphon bakery present in Maresk selling an array of goods; ‘twas the first time I ever enjoyed a gryphon-made pastry.

Nevertheless, just being here is indeed spurring my memory. And yet, ‘tis not the battle I remember most keenly. ‘Tis the smell of sweet peaches being soaked in cream. ‘Tis the sight of poppies in their final pre-autumn bloom. ‘Tis the refreshing breeze that blew through camp, stirring our manes and cooling our faces. ‘Tis the beautiful rosy sunset that gave way to a red moon illuminating starry skies.

‘Tis the faces and voices of those I led, some of whom are here with me yet again.

How is it, methinks I now must ask myself, that I am remembering the good about this place far more than the bad? Have I just been so focused on my memories of death and destruction that I lost sight all these years of what balanced it?

Could it be that at long last, I am able to see what I willfully turned away from for all this time? And if so, have I truly been a foal for denying it to myself? Or was I simply unable to do so before this, before enough time had passed?

I know not the answers. But nor will I seek them yet. Instead, I will begin to follow the Daisy regiment’s march trail to Harness Hill in the company of my old comrades, plus Bolt Knights Captain Firefly, Blindside, Stormrunner, Fell Flight and Oberen.

They offered to remain behind, but I requested they accompany us. For if I am to make amends for past shunnings, methinks I shall start here.

Get Ready to Fight — 1hr Epic Battle and Workout Mix

Equestrian Army Encampment
Rear Gate
Twelve miles southwest of Maresk, astride the road to Detrot
September 4^th, 1139 AC
2025 hours

Methinks pulling the regiment into march order took far more time than I would have liked.

A properly disciplined and practiced regiment should have been able to break camp and fall into march formation in under two minutes, but it took us nearly eight to get everypony together and in proper order, with squads of unicorn archers spaced so they could cover the bulk of us with spells and arrows if needs be.

I further ordered them to slap soundproofing and shroud spells over us in hopes that might get us a little closer to the hilltop village before being detected, studying the map I had of the town closely in the meantime to make sure I knew its layout well.

‘Tis certain we were as ready as we were going to be. Nevertheless, ‘twas with no little trepidation we departed our camp, though not before one unicorn orderly from brigade reached me via teleport, saying that my warning of Harness Hill’s capture had indeed reached higher command. She then presented me with a written order to stay put, which promised to relieve me of my post if I didn’t.

As my soldiers watched, I tore up the missive and threw it to the ground before the startled mare, directing her to inform higher command that I was not going to obey any order that resulted in our destruction.

“You may tell the great and illustrious Brigadier General Bambi”—that was our nickname for Bamboo Blade, our newly promoted and rather abrasive brigade commander, which ‘twas a moniker she roundly despised and punished any who used it—“that she may relieve and court-martial me later… after I have retaken the Hill and she has retreated past it!”

My actions resulted in an eruption of cheers and laughs, which ‘tis certain were heartening; I even caught a nod of approval from Gleaming Gladius as she departed for the head of her column, whilst I elected to remain with the trailing battalions to make sure I could maneuver them properly.

“Comrades! For Princess and province! For our friends and families! And to save our brothers and sisters in arms at Maresk! Forward!” I ordered in what I hoped was a tone of inspiration and confidence as we set off, leaving our camp and the befuddled orderly behind.

Two minutes out from the cover of friendly lines and suddenly feeling far more exposed, I ordered the regiment to increase the pace to double-quick at least as far as the coming crossroads, allowing us to cover more than half a mile a minute and close the distance to Harness Hill quickly.

‘Twas a pace the earth ponies would have no problems with, but the unicorns might if we sustained it for very long. ‘Twas a lesson I had initially learned the hard way back during Phoenix Fire, when we got repeatedly stalled because the stamina-poor unicorns could not keep up with the earth ponies at a time when speed of advance was crucial.

The result was costly and repeated delays that were compounded by failures to communicate properly with Corps forces, causing them to get strung out ahead of us and not be reinforced in time.

‘Twould not be the case here if I could help it, as I knew earth ponies alone could not win this fight. The order was passed along by communication crystals, and half a minute later, the call went out from battalion to company to platoon commanders.

”At the double-quick! March!” their respective COs called out in rough chorus at a final signal from my gem, and our pace instantly increased to a trot, doubling our speed of advance at the cost of losing some coherence of our march formation. But it could be rapidly regained, and I wanted to close with our enemy quickly before they could see us despite our shrouds and launch an airstrike on us.

If they did, we could be scattered and slaughtered by Imperial soldiers raining down explosive arrows from above. There was little cover in the semi-arid grasslands that ringed the dry seabeds short of digging fresh trenches, and unicorn shields would only last so long against sustained bombardment.

Never mind what would happen if Gryphon mages suddenly appeared.

Speaking of whom, ‘twas also a definite danger that the two Magus Knights in Harness Hill might detect the magical emissions of our communications crystals, so their use would have to be minimized as we got closer.

All this ran through my mind just as the lead battalion of Gleaming Gladius, consisting of three understrength companies—we were far from our prescribed wartime strength of one thousand ponies; according to the last muster we had just over seven hundred—reached the crossroads to a sudden eruption of fighting I could see from the next battalion to the rear; I heard a series of booms and battle cries followed by the sight of red gryphon flares shooting into the air.

I had just started grabbing for the command crystal on my belt when it vibrated and glowed. “Sir! Beg to report!” First Lieutenant Gleaming Gladius called out through her linked gem.

“What happened, Lieutenant?” I asked, though I feared I already knew.

“My lead company ran right into a gryphon Turma at the crossroads! We stumbled over some explosive gems they had strewn to protect themselves whilst they were digging in! We scattered them, killing six, but they got a dozen of us and fired off those warning flares! ‘Tis certain they know we’re coming, sir!” she told me heatedly and angrily; I could hear the accusing tone in her voice.

“Methinks we should turn back now and return to friendly lines! The gryphons are already forming up over the town, and if we continue on, ‘tis certain they’ll catch us in the open and rain death down on us from above!”

I swore violently, knowing that for a second time, I had failed to anticipate the tactics of our foe—of course they would have stationed troops at the crossroads, overseen from Harness Hill and in easy view of their forces there! ‘Twould give them warning of enemy ground movement whilst also allowing them to ambush smaller units or civilians that came through unaware!

“We are not turning back!” I told her angrily despite the loss of surprise and the disaster it could portend. On the one hoof, ‘tis certain she was right—‘twas no doubt the gryphons were already dispatching several centuries to strike us, and to move forward under their coming barrage of crossbow bolts would cost us dearly, potentially ripping the heart out of Gleaming Gladius’ lead battalion before she could even reach the base of the Hill.

“But sir—!”

“I said forward!” I shouted into my gem. “2nd battalion, shift east onto Eerie Road and prepare to assault the town! 1^st and 3^rd battalions! Enter echelon formation with 2^nd battalion as the spearhead; 1^st and 3^rd in the rear from right to left!”

I waited for my instructions to be carried out before I gave my next set of orders, hoping we could get organized for the assault before the gryphon centuries now forming up over the town could. But it soon became clear that hope was in vain as I could just see what might have been two centuries of gryphons winging towards us. So ‘twas then I made a choice that I reasoned would either win the battle, or lose the entire regiment.

“2^nd Battalion; move all unicorn archers to the fore of the formation! Cast shield and fire flare spells! Dazzle the gryphons and cover the earth ponies from ahead as they assault the town!”

“Are you mad? That will cost us most of our unicorns!” Gleaming Gladius instantly protested, recognizing as I did that to leave them exposed without earth pony protection would be to invite the gryphons to concentrate fire on them; the magical shields the average unicorn could produce could only withstand a few explosive bolts or gems before collapsing; their death ‘twas certain after that.

But ‘twas also now further to friendly lines than to Harness Hill, meaning that to retreat would be to expose ourselves to that assault for a longer period. Perchance they would break off their pursuit when we retreated, but even if we made it, our abortive effort ‘twould leave us trapped with the rest of the Corps.

“But mayhap will allow the earth ponies enough cover to reach the hilltop town, where the advantage will be theirs in close quarters! We cannot turn back, for we will not get a second chance to drive them off!” I reasoned.

“2^nd Battalion! By my order, and under the cover of unicorn spellcasting, charge the town!” My voice boomed out as I switched to my blue voice projection crystal, which used less magic and—I hoped—would prevent the two gryphon mages present from sensing and locking onto me as the probable commanding officer, with my collection of active communication gems lighting me up as a magical nexus.

I admit, I had a moment of worry when I did not see my orders instantly obeyed, believing that Gleaming Gladius was going to defy me. But she was merely taking time to get her archers set; I could just see a series of distinctive flashes as the unicorns teleported to the front, followed by several launching flares so they could see their approaching foe. ‘Tis worth noting that a unicorn night vision spell did exist, but few could cast such a complex incantation and fewer still actually knew it.

‘Twas even a spell to give regular ponies thestral eyes, but ‘twas even rarer; unknown outside of the Royal Navy which had only kept it in homage to the bat-ponies who once crewed it.

Allow me to pause briefly to note that I have passed this amongst my soldiers and Captain Firefly for comment. The latter has pointed out a question that ‘twould likely be asked by readers unfamiliar with Army tactics or the difference in abilities between our races—why light ourselves up like that and give the gryphons easier targets?

The answer is that, quite simply, gryphons have strong night vision and could already see us clearly in the twilight of approaching night; even through darkening shrouds which only stood out to their eyes once they knew we were there. Their night vision was not as strong as thestrals, to be sure, but ‘twas enough to give them an instant advantage over us, striking from ranges we could not see in the deepening dusk.

In short, darkness ‘twas our ally only so long as the Imperial Talons did not know we were coming. Once they did, ‘twas certain they could find us quickly. Though I was far from the seasoned commander I became at that point, even then I knew that our best chance to fight them was to light them up as well, and perchance even force them to flinch their eyes away with flares.

‘Tis certain such tactics were less effective against gryphons than thestrals, but any advantage would be accepted here.

It worked, but only to a point as the first flares went up to illuminate a century of approaching airborne Imperials, in their standard turma attack formations; spread out in a wide inverted V-shape with the two flanking decades in the lead and higher than that of the third squad that was between them and lower. ‘Twas a formation designed to maximize multiple firing lines to the front and flanks and minimize the danger of not just return fire, but the different decades catching each other in a crossfire.

Methinks I couldn’t help but admire their practiced tactics as bolts began raining down on Lieutenant Gladius’ galloping battalion from above. The first were intercepted by unicorn shields, with half casting them whilst the rest took the role of archers beneath them to strike targets of opportunity.

They scored a few initial hits, sending perchance a score of gryphons wounded or dead to the ground, but ‘twas nowhere near enough as the sky gryphon Talons simply absorbed the blows and immediately targeted them, trying to strip the attacking formation of its cover.

‘Twas the wrong tactic to use, or so I thought as I prepared to order the other two battalions into a gallop as well. I was waiting for the gryphons to commit the bulk of their forces against Gleaming Gladius, who, from what I could see and hear, had already taken at least forty casualties, mostly among the unicorns as the turmas focused on each knot of them in turn. They knocked down their shields with crystal-tipped bolts before following up with volleys of armor-piercing and explosive ones in turn.

‘Twas hard to watch, knowing I had all but ordered their deaths, but ‘twas working. For whilst the Talons were wasting time taking down the unicorns, our earth ponies had made it halfway to the town. At full gallop, the earth ponies of 2nd battalion could cover the remaining mile and a half in roughly two minutes, and still have enough stamina left to climb the hill.

They could then make it into the town where they could mix it up with the sky gryphons in urban combat that ‘twould favor them, particularly under the light of some newly burning buildings—which I later found out were not the results of gryphon destruction, but long-range incendiary arrows launched at thatched and wooden rooftops.

‘Twas by Gladius’, order, so that her remaining unicorns would not have to continually fire flares to keep the scene illuminated.

Thirty seconds passed. Then sixty. Then ninety. As I watched from the head of 1^st battalion, the rate of Imperial crossbow fire on their formations increased as additional Talon centuries came into play from the other side of the town, and our unicorns were no longer numerous or powerful enough to hold back the onslaught.

They finally began focusing on the charging earth ponies directly just as they reached the base of the hill. My insides clenched as I watched the well-aimed bolts strike home; a hail of steel-piercing arrows that began to cut our earth ponies down, spearing right through their heavy armor.

And yet, despite that, I ordered my other two battalions to halt their advance half a mile out. “Sir! They need reinforcements!” Starstruck pleaded with me as she witnessed the increasing carnage. “If we don’t help, they’ll be slaughtered!”

“Not yet,” I told her shortly, my lip tight. “We wait until their mages show themselves…”

For those who wonder why I was so reluctant to see old comrades, scenes like this were why.

‘Twas not just that I feared being reminded of battle trauma; ‘twas that my ability and willingness to sacrifice my soldiers appalls me to this day. Such orders came incredibly easy for me in the heat of battle; I thought no more about sending a whole battalion—or later, a brigade or even an entire division—to their deaths than I did a single soldier as long as I could accomplish an objective.

And to this day I cannot help but wonder—does that make me a monster? An uncaring and unfeeling pony who treated the lives of his underlings as disposable fodder? ‘Sacrificial lambs’, as gryphons sometimes use the phrase?

It makes you a commander, General. And a successful one at that.

‘Tis hard to accept, but those who think too much of their mares under arms rarely turn out to be good leaders in war. For they cannot do what is necessary to win battles, only willing to commit their troops when the odds are so far in their favor that they are completely useless otherwise.

To win without fighting might be the highest order of military skill, as the Sun Master once stated, but even for a strategic genius like my sister or Salvio Gaius, ‘tis all but impossible to accomplish most of the time.

Perchance you are right, Captain. But many ponies died here needlessly simply because I repeatedly failed to look at things from the perspective of our enemies, from not identifying the Hill as a likely target to failing to anticipate the presence of gryphon soldiers at the crossroads and planning appropriately. So why, then, am I considered a good commander?

Because you learned from your mistakes, General, which is far more than I can say for many on both sides of the battle lines. Because you internalized your lessons, to the great cost of the gryphons.

Could some battles have been won more quickly or cheaply? ‘Tis certain some could. I can think of many I fought or led. I can think of many mistakes I made that cost lives or even entire engagements. But hindsight is always perfect, and we do not have its advantages in the middle of battle. Nor do we have the benefit of our acquired experience at the start of the war, where it can only be gained by many a bloody and bitter lesson.

If you still do not believe me, then allow me to quote a former adversary during the long-ago campaign to end stallion slavery:

“Wisdom is nothing but healed pain.”

Thank you for your words of wisdom, Captain, painfully rueful though they are to hear. This action was our trial by fire, and ‘twould shortly illustrate another old saying I have heard from time to time: be careful what you wish for.

The truth of that old adage was to be revealed swiftly. As we watched in consternation whilst Gleaming Gladius led the charge of her earth ponies up the hill under the cover of her faltering unicorn formations, I still withheld my other two battalions from the battle. The Imperials seemed unaware we were here, and I wanted to keep it that way until we saw them commit their mages to the fight, when we could hopefully surprise them with a first strike that would take them out before they could react to us.

Or mayhap believing our presence remained undetected ‘twas wishful thinking, and they were just concentrating on the immediate threat before turning on us with all their force. Or worse, mayhap they did not use their mages simply because they were not needed here, keeping them in reserve until they saw us commit our remaining forces to the fight?

That the enemy has a mind and will of their own was a lesson hard-won. ‘Twas a lesson I would teach above all others during my time as Commandant at Sunset Point Army Tactical School after the war; a post I only reluctantly accepted to ensure that the mistakes I saw made—the mistakes that I made—would not be repeated, and that the hard-learned lessons of the war would take.

Unfortunately, ‘twas a lesson I would be forced to learn here when, as if on cue, there was suddenly a series of sharp flashes and thunderous booms that announced the arrival of the gryphon mages, but not over the lead battalion of Gleaming Gladius!

They were attacking us!

As a series of lightning bolts impacted my static formations, killing entire squads of ponies before our unicorns could respond with raised shields and a hail of crystal-tipped arrows to bring down those of the Magus, I realized they’d turned my intended tactic back on me!

They had spotted and then snuck up on our reserve force, unleashing a devastating first strike that was quickly followed up by two centuries of gryphon soldiers striking from both flanks, launching crossbow volleys into our ordered ranks. Their damage done, the mages shifted positions quickly to get behind their formations so they could continue to target us with lightning whilst we were busy with the Talon regulars.

“Scatter!” I called out, thinking the gryphon raider groups I used to fight would never have responded so quickly and correctly to the tactical puzzle I had faced them with. Yet again, I had underestimated my opponents, and yet again, my forces paid the price.

“Watch your spacing! Form platoon squares with unicorns at the center! Present no flank or rear!” I used one of the few standard Army tactics I found valid when faced with gryphon attacks; half the unicorns would cast one-way shields over the entire formation that allowed those inside to fire out, but not let arrows in whilst the other half would add much more accurate and better ranged longbow fire to the earth pony crossbow bolts.

“Earth ponies! Target the Talons with crossbows while the unicorns hold off the mages!” Captain Starstruck added her own instructions as she drew not her standard-issue army longbow, but her personal one.

“Belay that! Unicorns! Target the Talons!” I overruled her, directing our archers to repeat a tactic I’d seen used successfully against raider groups. ‘Twas in direct defiance of Army doctrine which held that mages should be matched against mages, but Magus lightning could only take down one or two soldiers at a time whilst a rain of crossbow bolts were the greatest threat right now.

“What?” Methinks Starstruck was certain I’d lost my mind, but ‘twas certain I didn’t have time to explain.

“You heard me! Use concussive arrows and dazzle spells against the sky griffons! Force them to ground with bow and magic where the earth ponies can kill them!” I shouted as I neither leveled my wrist-mounted crossbow nor drew my sword, as I needed my hoof and muzzle free to hold my communication gems and shout orders.

A few harried acknowledgments were received as my two reserve battalions attempted to carry out my unusual orders; a few individual longbow arrows followed shortly by several score of them lancing out into the air.

The mages were protected by their rearward positions and personal shields, but the Talons were not so fortunate as the special bolts struck among them like a thunder gem, stunning those near enough and causing their flights to falter. This in turn allowed them to either be targeted by earth pony crossbows or simply be grabbed by magical auras and yanked hard to the ground right in front of our formations, where earth ponies could instantly set upon them, killing them quickly.

With the utility of the tactic made plain, both battalions carried it out with gusto, rapidly equaling our losses. ‘Tis ironic here, methinks, that ragged and undisciplined raiders would not have been caught off guard by this tactic given they would have seen it before, but Talon regulars had not!

Worse for them, raiders would have quickly retreated from such losses, but here, Talon discipline worked against them as they were initially uncertain how to counter the unexpectedly effective tactic, which ‘twas not part of our doctrine or how they expected us to fight!

Over the next half-minute we accounted for perchance three score of Gryphon Talons in this manner as I fired my crossbow twice, standing exposed at the head of the square formations with Captain Starstruck at my side casting a shield spell over us both. ‘Tis difficult to say whether I hit anything, as I did not get a chance to check before the mages shifted their own tactics to fire on the unicorns in the center of our formations, trying to protect the Talons.

They had only limited success against mutually reinforced shields. Methinks the news was mixed at this point—on the one hoof, we were now holding the attention of at least two depleted centuries of Talon regulars and two mages, giving as good as we got even fighting out in the open as we were. We were perchance even relieving the pressure somewhat on the lead battalion, the remnants of which appeared to have made it almost all the way up the hill in the face of the Talon attacks. But their advance had come at the cost of almost all their unicorns, to judge by the faltering levels of spellcasting I saw.

On the other hoof, we could not easily reach them now, and ‘twas certain that one decimated battalion would not last long against three nearly unblooded gryphon companies, or centuries as they called them.

So as things stood, the situation was untenable and my original plan, such as ‘twas, was out the proverbial barn door. ‘Tis certain I had it driven home that night the truism that no plan survives first contact with the enemy. But its failure does not mean the battle is lost; it simply means you make a new plan quickly to adapt to changing battlefield conditions.

In this instance, changing battlefield conditions meant we made use of the situation we had. ‘Twas not my original intention that we engage the gryphons out here away from the town, but as ‘tis so often the case in warfare, plans gave way to happenstance and ‘twas up to me to take advantage of it.

“Lieutenant Gladius! Have you reached the town?” I shouted into my command gem.

“Lieutenant Gladius is dead, sir! This is Sergeant Major Tempered Steel!” answered her stallion second, who, ‘tis worth noting, was a recent transfer from Stalliongrad. He had been part of the sole heavy weapons regiment the Equestrian Army possessed at the war’s outbreak, which was where our military labs and foundries were located.

Unfortunately, and all too predictably, that also meant their siege engines and large ballistae that could do everything from fight dragons to attack forces over the horizon were left uselessly far away from the enemy where they would most likely be needed—yet one more needless and foreseeable strategic mistake that complicated our defense of Equestria against the Gryphon Empire.

“We’re in the outskirts but have lost half our force, including nearly all our unicorns and two company commanders!” he said before shouting an order I couldn’t hear. “We may make it, but we won’t have much left! If we don’t get relief soon, we’re finished!”

I heard the anger and accusing tone in his voice, and I distantly registered the death of a promising young combat officer, but ‘twas not my concern as I simply shrugged off the heavy losses and the mistakes that led to them yet again. “Then barricade yourselves in buildings or whatever cover you can! Hold out to the last pony! We’re on our way!”

I shifted communication crystals quickly, wondering how long my luck would last before I was attacked directly by the two gryphon mages. We knew from intelligence briefings that they were trained to detect the distinctive emissions of our communication gems as a means of finding and targeting commanders.

“Earth ponies! Break contact and charge the town! Unicorns! Run cover and maintain shield protection!” I commanded. “Defense only! Save your remaining arrows!”

“But what about the mages?” Starstruck asked me as she maintained a shield over the pair of us whilst we ran and notched an arrow from a second quiver; it was for her personal bow and the shafts were longer and the arrow tips larger.

“Ignore the mages for now!” I shouted as we broke into a gallop towards the base of Harness Hill. As we watched, lightning speared right through a weakened shield to strike down an earth pony mare ahead of us, forcing us to go around her broken body—yet one more casualty added to the list that ‘twas already perchance two hundred long. “There’s only two of them and methinks lightning alone won’t stop us!”

As if on cue, the mages shifted tactics, suddenly releasing great gouts of fire not into our ranks at the base of the hill, which would be of dubious benefit against running ponies who were not in tight formations, but ahead of us, blocking our path! Worse, they then fanned them with wind spells, trying to whip the burning grasses into a conflagration that would consume us quickly, forcing us to retreat behind Eerie road.

“You were saying?” Starstruck inquired acidly as our advance recoiled from the burning barrier which they continued to add more flames to, the fire now driving us back whilst the embers it released threatened to set the ground around us ablaze. “My bow can take them, sir! I can punch through their shields! I just need cover!” she shouted as they attempted to hem us completely with sheets of flame.

I didn’t reply right away, staring at the road and grassy hillside beyond it that led to the rooftop town where 2^nd battalion was fighting and dying.

And then I smiled. “Unicorns! Use incendiary arrows! Set fire to the ground ahead of the road! And then target the base of the hill on the other side of the flames!”

“What?” a cacophony of shocked calls came back. “You want to add more fire?” a mare’s voice added; I know not who it was.

“Just do it!” I shouted into my gem as Starstruck likewise looked at me like I’d gone insane.

“I’m not crazy. Just watch…” I told her as a volley of arrows with glowing tips impacted both the hillside and the ground ahead of the road, setting the grasses aflame. But fanned by the magus wind, the spots of fire spread out quickly in all directions, racing most rapidly up the hillside, where it quickly consumed the tall grasses there.

But we had a firebreak in front of us in the form of Eerie Road that the Magus-fueled firestorm could perchance penetrate, but not a deliberately set backburn as earth pony farmers sometimes used to clear their fields! As the multiple fire fronts met, the main blaze was starved for fuel and quickly subsided into a few scattered and fitful flames, thus destroying the burning barrier and rendering the tactic useless.

Methinks I will admit to a moment of fierce pride at my own cleverness as the Magus trap was turned against them. The path to the town was thrown open, and thus, ‘twas only one more order left to give.

“Regiment! Charge!” I ordered my awestruck troops, who methinks were finally staring at me in real respect. And perchance ‘twas why that this time, as I gave the order, a mighty cheer was heard as the remaining four hundred or so ponies of my command surged through the gap and raced up the hill into the town.

It took us less than a minute to reach our goal despite the continuing Talon crossbow and Magus fire, the latter of whom had little choice but to go back to lightning strikes on our formations, picking off just one or two unlucky ponies at a time. I know not gryphon losses to that point, but ‘twas likely at least a century of their own forces, whose formations were looking far more ragged by then due to continuous combat.

“Sergeant Major! Hold your fire! We’re coming in!” I warned Tempered Steel, not getting an immediate reply. As we crested the hill, we saw structures ablaze, and that confused me—had my own tactic to burn the hillside set the town afire too?

But before I could blame myself for that—I didn’t know then that Gleaming Gladius had ordered the fires set—I realized I’d been a foal yet again. The flames were being fed further by a second pair of gryphon mages as the Talons stood back, only striking at anypony who tried to escape them whilst the mages tried to turn their sanctuaries into crematoriums.

So they had four mages assigned to them, and not just two! And thus, they now became primary targets even as they shifted to fight us, adding additional lightning bolts to the onslaught.

“Regiment! Target the mages! Use crystal-tipped arrows to penetrate their shields!” I ordered uselessly at this point as they didn’t need to be told to do that, with longbow arrows striking their shields to an eruption of sparks and slightly warped protective bubbles, which shimmered with each hit.

If Gryphon Magus Knights had any disadvantages over our unicorns, who were normally far weaker on a caster-by-caster basis, ‘twas that they could only cast one spell at a time, be it offensive or defensive, without weakening the effectiveness of the other.

Though Magus can and do cast shields around themselves and then fire lightning from within it, the need to maintain that shield puts a drain on their power, and thus means that they can only launch weaker offensive attacks from within it. Splitting their power like that weakens the shield in turn, rendering them far more vulnerable.

‘Tis the reason Magus are assigned to units in pairs, so that one can cast a full-strength shield over themselves and their partner whilst the other fires lightning bolts or other magic from inside it. They quickly took that tactic here as my forces fanned out through the town, which was littered with the bloodied bodies of dead militia ponies and civilians, as well as those Equestrian army soldiers who had reached the town but were unable to make cover.

‘Twas a gruesome site, with severed limbs and mangled flesh everywhere, and one that did turn my stomach yet again.

But I did not relent. I could not relent. We had made it this far in the face of obstinate gryphon resistance and my own innumerable mistakes. And by Celestia’s sun itself, we would not falter here!

I must now pause to gather myself. For the ponies of my party have retraced our steps to the town of Harness Hill itself. It looks far different than it did back then, and not just because it was almost entirely rebuilt after not one but two waves of war wrecked it; once during the initial invasion and yet again during the Tempest Shadow operation I spearheaded some three years later.

‘Tis larger now, with more developed roads and extensive farmlands around the base of the hill, watered by newly installed irrigation systems fed from the no-longer-dry seabeds. Instead of the near-desert conditions that prevailed before, young forests abound as pony weather control has been extended fully into former gryphon lands, slowly altering the formerly semi-arid area from grasslands to woodlands.

Upon reflection, as I see the change in the landscape—I am also told by Captain Firefly that the Delamare river canyon that marked our former border with the gryphons is now rapidly eroding from the tripled amounts of rainfall it receives—‘tis worth noting that one stated grievance of the gryphons in going to war was actually quite valid.

For ‘twas our weather control that kept rainfall from them, preventing most natural patterns from reaching them excepting those few odd storms that might come up the coast. It kept their lands arid and their farms poor, rendering their subsistence doubly difficult whilst we kept all the water for ourselves.

‘Tis a topic I have become intimately aware of in my new profession of farmer, and yet, my former soldiers will not stop calling me General or Commander. I simply do not understand the loyalty they show me for how wantonly I sacrificed their lives, to which they reply simply and to a pony:

“You saved Equestria.”

Methinks they exaggerate, for I was but one of many commanders, and certainly others like Captain Firefly or General Squall Line or even Our Princess herself could make that claim!

Thank you, old comrade. Yes, Tempered Steel would be one of the very few to make it all the way through the war with me. In time, he would be instrumental in incorporating heavy weapons into my future corps when we switched from defensive to offensive warfare, commanding an entire division by war’s end.

But that story lies far in the future, and ‘twould never come to be without survival here, in the burning town of Harness Hill.

Methinks there is another old saying—yes, I know I’m full of them; something my foals and grandfoals tease me about endlessly—regarding the dog who chases a wagon and then doesn’t know what to do when she catches it.

Only now, we were the dog, and the wagon we had caught was Harness Hill, entering the town only to find that getting there was not even half the battle won. Just how were we to eject the gryphons from the town when there were now no less than four mages overhead raining death down upon us along with a damaged cohort of Talons?

Were I to guess looking backwards now, I would say that our numbers were roughly even at that point. They had begun with a reinforced cohort—roughly six centuries—in defense of the town backed by two Magus teams, whilst we went into the attack with three battalions comprised of nine understrength companies, each consisting of one unicorn platoon and two earth pony, mustering between eighty and ninety effectives each.

We were now at roughly 2/3^rds strength after the bombardment we’d sustained getting there. The losses were very uneven, however. 2^nd battalion had lost almost all their unicorns, leaving them at well under half strength—a lethal proposition against gryphon mages who switched their attacks from fire back to lightning. ‘Twas an attempt to pepper us with shrapnel from the powerful bolts that blasted apart wood and brick, turning the debris into potentially lethal missiles.

But the gryphons had sustained heavy losses too; methinks they’d lost mayhap a century of soldiers fighting us in the open. Unfortunately, they’d likely only suffered half that in fighting 2^nd battalion, who I had ordered to reach the town instead of attacking the Talons directly. Against all odds and my own impossible orders, they’d been able to ascend the hill to grab a hoofhold in the town whilst the rest of us had been able to fight our way to them; the bulk of the other two battalions battered but still battleworthy.

This gave us nearly even numbers, but the gryphons were far more organized at that point and Magus-backed; our standard longbow arrows were not penetrating their shields…

Until I suddenly saw a sharp flash and a Magus shield go down, followed by one of the two lightning-casting Magus slain with an arrow through her cloth-covered chest. ‘Twas the second weakness of gryphon Magus early in the war—their armor was designed to deflect magical attacks and not physical ones; they had few defenses once you penetrated their shields and could fall easily to simple blades and bolts.

I wasn’t sure what happened at first, but then the flash resolved into Captain Starstruck, who had teleported herself high into the air and fired into the shield bubble from above with her personal longbow, penetrating it at close range with one of her equally custom and quite heavy crystal-tipped arrows. She then followed up quickly with the second strike from a simple piercing bolt that slew the targeted Magus; teleporting back to the ground before her partner could react.

“Brilliant, Starstruck! Can you do that again?” I called to her, only to receive a groan in reply.

“No…” she said in audible pain. “Can’t teleport again… horn cracked... the backlash got me…”

By ‘backlash’, she referred to the at-times explosive magical release that came from a disrupted spell or aura. It tended to find focus in nearby staves or unicorn horns and overload them, causing them to crack, rendering casting painfully difficult to agonizingly impossible depending on the severity of the wound.

But the same effect had neutralized the second Magus as well, as he attempted to cast a fresh lightning spell on her in rage only for his damaged staff to shatter in his grasp, rendering him defenseless and forcing him to flee the hill.

He got away, but as he was neutralized, it mattered not. “Two mages down… I’m putting you in for the Archer Agate for that, Captain!” I promised her as I fired my crossbow, and this time, hit a Talon directly in the neck—’twas a lucky shot as I was aiming for her chest—sending her dead to the ground.

“You can pin the medal on me later… after we win this fight!” she reminded me, struggling to stand and levitate her longbow. She switched from her personal bow to her standard one, which required less magic to use. “There are still two mages left!” She notched another arrow with some difficulty.

“Right…” Whilst I reloaded my crossbow, contemplating what to do as our forces fought the Talons behind whatever cover was available—methinks ‘twas a very confused battle at that point with units on both sides intermingling, fighting it out in the burning ruins of the town—I realized with a sinking heart that as things stood, we weren’t going to win this; not even with the loss of two mages to the gryphons.

‘Twas simply no way around it as I saw my faltering forces. Our numbers were being ground down faster than theirs, and they had all but enveloped us at this point, ringing us and hemming us in from the ground and air. They were aware of our earlier tactics now, meaning they were keeping their distance and simply bombarding us from afar; we couldn’t force them to ground where the advantage was ours any longer.

I was out of tricks, and having adapted to our earlier tactic, they would soon reduce us to nothing. ‘Twas a mathematical equation, and even if we somehow emerged victorious by the grace of The Mare in the Moon herself, we wouldn’t have enough left to hold the hill against a second strike. Especially not one likely carried out by earth gryphons.

Such thoughts of defeat and doom were gripping me when suddenly the two remaining mages were struck from behind by a barrage of arrows and magical beams from teleporting unicorns, collapsing their shields and rendering them vulnerable to a volley of spears and crossbow bolts that followed from ground level.

They fell instantly to the unexpected attack, causing the Talons to whip their heads around in confusion just before a second orchestrated volley of longbow arrows from a full-strength army battalion struck them, killing thirty almost instantly. ‘Twas quickly followed up with a series of fresh flares launched over the city, blindingly bright to look at and causing the remaining Talons to look away in pain, resulting in a score or more falling to subsequent arrow strikes.

Once again, I had to wait for my eyes to clear before I could discern what happened. This time, I beheld unicorns hovering high in the air not on the strength of their own auras but held aloft by those casting levitation spells from below, enabling them to use all their power directly on the attack instead of having to spend it on very draining spells like teleportation or self-levitation.

‘Twas a direct imitation of the gryphon tactic, methinks, with one set of unicorns covering and protecting the other, and ‘tis certain it worked superbly here. The fresh battalion took down the remaining mages and an entire century of airborne gryphons in short order, turning the battle instantly and decisively in our favor.

‘Twas also an opportunity I couldn’t let slip. “All forces! Attack! Drive them from the town!” I ordered, and recognizing the opportunity, my four hundred remaining effectives instantly obeyed.

The odds having turned suddenly against them; their mages slain and position untenable given they were now exhausted and badly outnumbered by the appearance of fresh Equestrian Army troops entering the town from the west, the gryphons could read the writing on the wall as well as I could just a minute earlier. And thus, their surviving Centurions gave the order to retreat.

Harness Hill
Town Square
Twenty miles southwest of Maresk, astride the road to Detrot
September 4^th, 1139 AC
1105 hours

The battle for Harness Hill was over.

The remaining sky gryphon Talons had taken flight and fled through the air, leaving somewhat over a third of their fallen brethren behind; to my later shame, I did not immediately stop the surviving townsponies from avenging the slaughter of militia troops and civilians they witnessed as they fell upon the wounded, hacking them to pieces. Never mind the inharmonious act of it; we needed prisoners to tell us their plans. But then again, ‘twould seem they were obvious at that point anyway.

As we secured the town, I ordered my remaining soldiers to extinguish the fires and dig in deep, dispatching my surviving unicorn archers to upper floor balconies and rooftops with earth pony squads in support.

I fully expected the next attack to include earth griffons, so I further ordered all intact buildings be occupied and protected with anti-fire enchantments; made into bunkers so we could turn the streets and alleyways of the town into the same killing zones the Lucavi had done in Altair twelve years earlier.

Nevertheless, Harness Hill was ours again, but ‘tis certain the battle would not have been won without the surprise attack of a battalion belonging to another army regiment from the west. They had slain the mages and split the Imperial defense of the hilltop town at just the right moment to save our faltering effort, and I took great pains to express our gratitude to the commander of the rescue force, who I met in the town square where the gryphon headquarters had been.

“Colonel Rock Biter, 3^rd brigade, 2^nd regiment,” I introduced myself as I was saluted by a mare at least fifteen years my junior. She bore the golden oak leaf insignia of a Major and a short gash on her chest where a sword had partially penetrated her armor.

“Major Sunstone, operations officer, 1^st brigade, 3^rd regiment,” she replied as I returned the honor. “’Twould seem you had the same idea we did, Colonel. Our forces were stationed in the town of Yoke, further down the road. We repulsed an airborne attack at cost, but then we learned from fleeing civilians that the Gryphons had taken Harness Hill.

“Once we received reinforcements from Melody, we advanced from the west. We could only spare a battalion for the effort to oust them whilst still holding Yoke, which was too weak to do so alone. But when you attacked, we saw our chance. We snuck close and waited for them to fully commit against you before going in, hitting them from the blindside.”

“‘Twas excellent thinking on your part, Major,” I told her in great gratitude. “Your tactics were superb and timing was perfect. We would not be here now without you.”

“You are welcome sir. But ‘twas not without cost. A fifth of my ponies are down and our regimental commander, Colonel Bricklayer, died defending Melody from a surprise Talon strike.” She bowed her head as our combined healer teams began setting up a makeshift triage and medical tent. “Lieutenant Colonel Peach Preserves is now in command of our regiment. She ordered us to move east and retake the hill.”

“For which I will thank her later,” I said, knowing even then I’d likely lost at least three hundred fifty of my regiment in retaking the town in exchange for an equal number of Talons—if we were lucky. “For now, we need to secure not just the town but the entire road junction before the gryphons strike again.”

“Sir—orders?” Major Wheat Thresher prompted; I’d stationed him with 3rd battalion to make sure we both couldn’t be taken out at once. “Before we do anything else, methinks we should inform 1st Corps command that Harness Hill is retaken.”

“Agreed. Dispatch message runners back up towards Maresk. Inform all forces they encounter that the line of retreat is open, and regardless of Major General Breech Lock’s orders, to take it quickly!” I directed my second, who immediately wrote out a missive and called to nearby unicorn soldiers, asking if any of them had sufficient power left to teleport the distance.

“I’m not sure they can, sir,” Captain Halberd told me in sadness and resignation, staring out to the east from our hilltop perch. “‘Twould seem the gryphon trap is sprung.”

“What do you…?” I trailed off as I followed his gaze and my heart sank at the scene before me.

For at that moment, ‘twould seem all our efforts were for naught. The battle lines ringing Maresk were clearly outlined, lit up with both physical and magical fires as the main Imperial assault went in. The sounds of distant battle even carried upon the wind, and ‘twas clear that they were already trying to pinch off the escape route we had so painfully pried open.

“By the sun…” I murmured, wondering if escape was even possible for the bulk of the 1st Corps now; I didn’t even have enough emotion left after the battle to mentally curse out Major General Breech Lock for allowing the inevitable to happen.

“Do we stay now, sir?” My subdued second asked.

“We do,” I told him after a short pause and prayer. “We will stay here holding the door open until the Corps crumbles completely, in hopes that some regiments or even a brigade or two may yet make it out. For even if the Imperial pincers close and the Corps is lost, then every earth pony and unicorn soldier who slips free to join us ‘tis one that can yet be added to Equestria’s defense…”

As I finish writing this from near that same far more peaceful hilltop, sitting on a bench in the town square that faces a memorial of the battle etched with a list of the dead, I find myself crying. I never mourned our losses; I never had the chance as we simply went from one action to another over the next several days and weeks without rest.

‘Tis at least a pain I can share with my old comrades as we raise a toast in the honor of those who fell, at the Harness Inn & Pub where the mare named Sweet Switchel once worked.

Sadly, the news there is not good. She is dead, I am told by her family that still runs the Inn. She stayed at our old encampment as the gryphons closed in, refusing to leave the side of her wounded friends who could not be moved whilst telling the rest to flee once she learned the retreat route was reopened.

Based on our brief meeting and seeing that she pulled many ponies to safety despite her wounds, ‘tis certain it sounds like something she would have done. Her end is not known, but her namesake signature recipe survives. ‘Twas served to us in their pub at no cost by her youngest sister, who she ordered to flee and dimly recalled seeing me when they entered our camp.

‘Twas a very potent and invigorating brew; one that quickly restored our strength after the march and emotionally draining visit. To have something of her, I asked if I could take the recipe back with me to my farm at Stalliongrad, as ‘twould serve us well during the difficult days of sowing and harvest. Her sister gave it to me with the admonition that I not sell it or spread it, as ‘tis their trade secret and the source of many of their sales.

She need not worry, for I would never betray the memory of such a brave and loving pony. But every time I drink it now, I will think of her, and the selfless sacrifice of far too many soldiers and civilians during the battles for Harness Hill and Maresk.

“To be a good soldier, you must love the army. To be a good commander, you must be willing to order the death of the thing you love.” —General Robert E. Lee