//------------------------------// // 21: The Difficult Choice // Story: Anon von Bismarck // by WojakWriter //------------------------------// I stood on the balcony of my room, overlooking Canterlot. It was so serene, to watch as my little ponies went about their daily activities. I came here to ponder and debate myself most of the time. It was the only part of the castle where I could rest without someone asking me questions or bothering me with the war. It had been about a month since Flashy Image was “removed.” Nobody knew what happened. A good thing. She had no family. No real friends. A real outcast by social standards. Nobody would miss her. All had calmed down in Canterlot. No more tension, no more doubts about me. And the war was ending soon. The ponies didn’t know. But I could almost smell it. The air lost the ammonical smell that permeated about, and had returned to a crisp cold it usually held in the mountains. The campaign had been going extremely well. A small skirmish outside of a town, some brief resistance in the streets, then surrender. Repeat for every small town. My ponies hadn’t given them a chance to regroup. Luna had kept the pressure on them, and did a damn good job of it too. They even managed to surround Griffonstone. This wasn’t all good news though. The reports I had gotten back told me that Griffonstone turned out to be a hardier fortress than my generals had anticipated when they arrived. No matter. A new weapon would be given to Luna’s 1st army of Equestria to ensure our success. Simple artillery shells with a bit more kick. Who knew magic could stick and burn like napalm? It would roast those birds from their little holes in Griffonstone. They’d have no choice but to give up then. Heh, roasted bird. Sounds delectable. Probably smells better than burnt corpses too. The supplies would arrive by next morning, along with a simple letter for Luna as to what to use the shells for. I almost didn’t go through with this plan. The prospect of killing innocents was something I had never wanted to do. I had done it before, and had my doubts then, but it had to be done. War calls for drastic measures, and artillery doesn’t discriminate. It was either this, or a full force invasion. That many ponies dying would’ve been an effective way to kill my tenure on the throne though. No, it had to be this way. Hearing trotting behind me, I turned and saw Quill approaching. “What’s the matter Anon?” I forced a small smile. “Nothing, Quill. Everything is fine” And everything would be fine. Give it ten years, and this’ll just be a bad dream for me. And the ponies would never have to hear about this. If the generals and newspapers listened to me, then what happened at Griffonstone would never be known. Yes, I would have to censor news of this. We couldn’t have an Equestrian Mỹ Lai leak. News of this would never be allowed to spread. The things I did for peace. This was a nightmare. The charts on the table, the poor communication ability, the supplies now drying up. You are Princess Luna, leading a campaign in crisis. The past month had actually been quite the blitz of the griffons. From the first landing to where you now stand, outside the walls of Griffonstone, had been relatively simple to roll over. Casualties had been low, and unrest had hardly cropped up. Though perhaps that lack of unrest was due to the only non-pony standing around the tactical map. General van den Tann had been of immense help in the conquered towns, promising fine treatment and an end to the reign of their corrupt emperor. It seemed he was rather popular among the populous, as outside of some scattered, small protests here and there had been no resistance to the new rule. Of course, nothing was free, and he'd been promised the possibility of a place in the new administration. That wasn't something you were looking forward to addressing with Anonymous, when the time came. Then again, perhaps he'd simply trust your judgment. He always knew best when it came to politics. Or at least, more than you did. None of it pertained to the matter at hand, though. All the villages and towns you had fought through and shed blood to take we nothing compared to Griffonstone. A mountaintop city, similar to Canterlot in that regard, Griffonstone was a monstrous fortress. Ten meter high walls surrounded the city itself, and the sole path that wound round the mountain had dozens of blocks and battlements obstructing the path. It was at the foot of a grand mountain range that blocked all but a single side of it, and the cliffs were nigh unscalable. You did have some form of a plan though. Unfortunately, it required far more ammunition than you had at your immediate disposal. Something about a bad batch of shells and mass shipper bottleneck that meant you weren't getting what you'd requested. Still, you would make do with what you had. ”Princess, I shouldn't need to tell you that this plan borders on criminal.” It was Colonel Shod, commander of the artillery battery that had managed to keep up with the breakneck pace of the war. He was an excellent officer, if a bit staunch in how he took to fighting. You let out a quiet sigh and tap the marks you had made on the map. “Borders on but, with the notice we've been issuing over all radio bands and the leaflets we've dropped, isn't.” You recalled Anonymous’s words about how ‘winners don’t get punished for war crimes.’ The colonel grimaced and stared down at the papers as though they may leap for his throat. You understood his uneasiness, this was not something that you would have considered even a week ago. But Anonymous had given a direct order. Rereading the letter, it was only two sentences long. ”Take that city all costs. Kill all of them if you have to, we’re winning this war one way or another.” As laid out, the plan was to shell the city until its inhabitants gave in and surrendered. This alone was a terrible undertaking, but it was the only way to ensure the unconditional surrender of the griffons. But you had made an addition to this plan, on behalf of Anonymous’s orders, something that made it far worse. Magic infused shells. Just this very morning, you had received a special shipment of profoundly special artillery shells. Sharp Mind himself made the idea of these shells. Something happened in Canterlot. Sharp seemed to trust Anonymous much more than he used to. But that wasn’t too surprising, given that Anonymous was the only one who had ever heard him out about his ideas. Embedded in each one was a stabilized resonance crystal, a physical manifestation of mana. With these in the shells, and certain inscriptions laid on them, a unicorn of even moderate potential could turn a lethal high explosive shell into a cataclysmic weapon of absolute devastation. Magic that, in theory, could stick and burn the poor souls it landed on. Truly gut wrenching. The violence of even one of these items, let alone a thousand, was enough to turn the stomach of even the most stoic of soldiers. Which is why you had told no one but Colonel Shod about the new weapon. And now you had laid the plan bare to him, he was the only pony that you could trust to execute it. For as mired in morality and the laws of warfare this would be, he would follow his orders even if they sent him into Tartarus. You tried to comfort him. “If it makes you feel any better colonel, I would rather do this any other way. But with our numbers, resources, and the result of that damned foalish general's 'probing' assault, it's this or we march home.” Shod stays quiet for a long moment, and you can see he is truly weighing these options. You knew how he felt, for you felt the same feeling he held. And were you Celestia, you know what your choice would have been. She believed it was better to be shamed and destroyed than to have a blood drenched soul. But you are not your sister. You are the princess militant, the baleful moon, the Nightmare. The elements had removed the taint of Nightmare Moon from your soul, but you could still remember everything. You knew well how terrible war was, and the cost of winning. But you also knew the rush of conquest and destruction. Anonymous also knew that too. Perhaps that’s why the two of you got along so well. You both hid a darkness from others. In recent times, you even felt that old, hideous tug at your heart, trying to lull you back to the depth of the Nightmare. Oh how easy it would be to walk that path and turn this city to dust with a flick of your mind. But no, you would never succumb to the ancient foe again. Finally, the colonel lets out a long sigh and hangs his head. ”As you say, princess. I cannot see any other way without shedding the blood of everypony here and coming. I will tell my troops to load and sight in, we will await your command to begin.” Without waiting for a reply, he exits the command tent with a new weight resting on his shoulders. You're left alone with General van den Tann, who looks at you with a mixture of sorrow and resolve in his gaze. “So then, we will be forced to rebuild our greatest city on the bones of our people.” You give him a sympathetic look and close your eyes. “I would rather you not have to rebuild at all, general. I truly am sorry.” The griffon breathes slowly and shakes his head. ”No matter, this is war. We are resilient, we will weather this as we have every conflict before.” You nodded and held open the flap of the tent. “Well then, general, I'll have them escort you back to your quarters. I must inspect the troops.” General van den Tann gives you a curt bow and leaves the tent, two ponies following after him. He was quite a strange being, you thought as you began to wander the camp under the afternoon sun. Instead of being broken in defeat, he had offered his assistance to you. And what help he had been, a number of times he had offered valuable strategic input and he was able to engage with the griffons on a level that no pony could ever hope to. Of course since he was a griffon, but it was more than just that From what you gathered, he had come from a village at the Southern tip of the Empire and had garnered great respect for his high position from such lowly birth. It had certainly made the village elders and town leadership capitulate much easier than you was thought possible. But here, at this great city, that respect had long since grown threadbare. You can see your pegasi messengers returning to the camp, and you have no doubts of the tidings they bring with them. When they report, your heart sinks lower than ever before. You had expected some unacceptable terms of surrender, or perhaps some modicum of kindness for the civilians in the city. Perhaps news of fleeing civilians. But it was not to be. There would be no surrender, and every last griffon in the city was blood-sworn to resist according to the messengers. Even the children had been armed and told to fight to their last breath. So it was as you reported to Colonel Shod who stood beside his several dozen guns with a tired expression mirroring your own. The crews stood by, shells and powder bags prepared, an extra unicorn standing by the reserve shell pool for each quartet of artillery pieces. Shod gazed up at you, a remorseful look writ upon his face. You knew he would carry this day to his grave. ”Permission to begin the fire mission, my princess?” You know the answer he wants, and the one you want to give him. To hold his fire, to simply wait out the griffons in a traditional siege, to spare them the horrors about to be unleashed on their city. You don't trust your words, so you simply nod. The slight movement feels exhausting, your head feeling as though it it made of iron. Shod's gaze steels as he turns to his gun crews and draws a deep breath before speaking. ”Troops, load high explosive, check elevation, and make ready to fire.” It takes them only a moment to follow through and perform their final checks. Shod opened his mouth to give the final order, but you stopped him short with a gentle hoof on his withers. He looked up at you and took a step back, understanding your intentions. You wouldn't allow this blood to be on his hooves. You were already tainted. What’s a couple more lives? After a deep breath, you gave the command that damns you. ”OPEN FIRE!” For the rest of the day, and well into the evening, the guns kept up a constant stream of shells. Nopony in the camp sleeps, least of all you. The chatter of the radios carries on with the barrage, pegasi spotters calling in hits and adjustments as needed. By the time the moon has risen fully, the conventional explosive munitions are totally exhausted. You're surprised the supply lasted as long as it did, but then you didn't have a full battery of guns either. The gun crews retire to their tents, you've decided to give them some respite and resume bombardment with the dawn. In the mean time, they could get some food, water, and much needed sleep. Atop the distant mountain, Griffonstone burns. The shells had shattered anything they hit, then had set fire to the ruins. You could see great pillars of smoke glowing in the dim, ruddy firelight and smell the devastation that your order had wrought. You feel your face grow damp beneath your eyes. Crying, you're crying at doing your duty. It just went to show then, despite all the titles, infamy, and legends surrounding you, you still had morals. Deep down, you were still a pony. You wiped the tears away with your forehoof, and felt a strange compulsion to look at the damp fur. Your tears… They were pitch black… Your guts churn and you hurriedly wiped away the rest of the liquid from your cheeks. Only now did you notice how thick it feels, almost like syrup. You take a deep, shuddering breath and force down the bile that threatened to rise from your guts. “No, not now...” You quiet mutter is quickly cut off as you hear the approach of steps behind you. You finished wiping away the dark fluid from your face and returned your gaze to the burning city. The gruff, unmistakable voice of General van den Tann speaks up from beside you ”It is quite the sight, is it not?” A glance at him shows tracks of glistening tears streaking down the downy feathers on his face. In some small way, you're surprised at how soft-hearted he was at the sight of this, but you do understand and it soothes some of the fears you held over your promise to him. “Indeed it is, general. Though I must admit some distaste at such wanton destruction.” He shakes his head and heaves a long sigh. ”It is of no concern, princess. My brethren have supped the wine of victory for so long they are well drunk. Though I regret that such an object lesson is require, I pray the biting hunger of defeat will blunt their future appetites.” You allowed yourself a small smirk at the analogy. It's quite fitting for the reaction that your call for surrender had brought, overconfidence that only a drunk could muster. “Still, I shall personally see to it that Griffonstone is restored as quick as we can allow. Needless suffering is not something we wish to inflict.” The general lets out a bitter chuckle and gestures to the distant spires with a claw. ”It seems that such suffering will not be needless. Look how the Imperial flag still flies over the city, they show only the foolhardy bravery of a nestlet. Their arrogance is destroying the city where I met my wife, destroying the city where my chicks were born. This alone ought to be cause enough for the emperor's execution, he acts as though he is a chick playing at fantasy.” You can't help but silently agree with his assessment, harsh though it may be. It seemed that the griffon emperor cared little for those who ought to be in his direct care, and less for the consequences his resistance would have. The baleful glow of the fires begins to dull, either being purposefully extinguished or guttering out with a lack of fuel. You pray it is the former. “I do hope he shall see reason by dawn, general. I have held our most destructive weapons in reserve, but if they shall not surrender then I'll have no choice but to unleash them.” He looks up at you with tearful eyes and nods. ”Yes, I can smell the mana leaking from those remaining shells. I'm no sorcerer, but even a man blind, deaf, and dumb could sense what lies within that unforgiving steel.” His beak turns up in a rueful smile as he looks back at the dull glow from the depths of the griffon capital. ”There is a small part of me that wishes to see just what such weapons are capable of, though. Perhaps, deep down, we griffons are hopelessly addicted to war. I must admit, when this war began I marched at the head of my troops with pride in my chest and a smile on my face. Despite all the hardships, casualties, and the humiliation of defeat, I cannot say that I was disappointed by you princess.” His gaze grows distant and wistful as the glow of fire is replaced by that of the moon. ”Baiting two full brigades into abandoning their defensive positions, luring them into a perfect ambush, the maneuver from the forest. If you ever grow tired of being a princess, do consider coming to us. Your strategy would be a welcome breath of air from some of the other fools about the court.” You gave him a smile and gazed at the horizon as the moon you had lifted almost unconsciously into the sky begins to sink below the distant mountains. “Perhaps, in the future, our forces might train together. I don't believe I could ever abandon my ponies though, and I'm sure you feel the same about your own people.” He nods, letting out a tired sigh and turning about. ”Indeed I do, princess. Well, the hour grows late and these old bones require some kind of sleep. Do be so kind as to keep the barrage quiet, wouldn't you?” You quietly chuckled at the jest. “Of course, I'll ensure the guns are not too loud just for you.” With that, he's gone. You see the gun crews beginning to stir from their tents, and you know the final shots of this war are about to be fired. Colonel Shod approaches you, a grim expression on his stoic face. ”The flag still flies, my princess?” You nodded solemnly, all traces of your previous mirth gone. ”Then I shall have the gun laid and loaded shortly. We shall await your orders.” Without another word, he walks stiffly towards the raised barrels of the artillery pieces. You cannot fault his shortness, he is no doubt taking this harder than you. For a while longer, you stare out at the distant city, hoping against hope that someone in there may see reason and raise a white flag, or that a messenger would come at a blazing pace to bring news of a surrender. But nothing comes, and the sun has long broken over the horizon. It was time then. You approached the artillery crews, your face grim. The magic leaking from the breeches is easily apparent to you, and the wrongness of it does not go amiss. Still, this was the only way to ensure they surrendered without too bloody a sacrifice from your ponies. And so you addresses the troops as they stood ready, one extra round for each gun sitting beside the great instruments of war. That was all it would take, after all. “Mares, stallions, my subjects, my charges, my friends. This is a dire hour indeed. We find ourselves faced with an unrepentant enemy that refuses to surrender until their last breath is drawn. I do not dare to throw away the lives of ponies when we have such a small force as it stands. And so it comes to this, the razing of the city. Know that, were there any other way that this could be resolved I would shed my own blood to make it so.” You drew a deep breath as the churning in your stomach worsens. “But we have tried, and we have waited as long as we can. Know that not one of you carries the blame for this action. This blight rests squarely upon the shoulders of the griffon emperor and on my own. I bear it with no remorse, for I know by this order that thousands of ponies shall live long lives where they may not have.” You paused a moment to let your words sink in before steeling yourself. “Troops, make ready!” Final checks are made, breeches sealed, and at last the guns stand ready for their hellish work. What would Celestia say if she saw this? ”FIRE!” A deafening eruption blasts over you as the battery fires as one. While the shells are still in flight, you issue your next orders. ”LOAD!” The action is done as a wave of violent mana backwash rushes over you. An eerie violet hue eclipses the sun momentarily before you gave what you hoped would be the final order of the war. ”FIRE!” Another blast, this time you turned to see the results even as the acrid taste of bile coated your tongue. In the distance, the city once more comes alight with brilliant hues of purple and vibrant cobalt. Again, the wash of tortured mana comes over you, and you're compelled to your knees. You cannot hold the bile back any longer, and you opened your mouth as a torrent of vomit soaks the ground beneath you. Your ears picked up the sound of other unicorns becoming sick as well, the distortion of the world that they could sense all too well overcoming them. A look down at the puddle terrified you, and you hurriedly kick dirt over the black puddle. The Nightmare was starting to come back. But you were stronger than her. You would never fall to her again. You wiped your face and rose to your hooves shakily, staring out at the city. Its walls were shattered, its once great spires thrown to the ground beneath and shattered. Within moments, you saw on the single standing parapet of the castle, the flag has finally been taken down. Your wish finally becomes reality as a stark, white banner unfurls itself over the devastation that the city had become. The war was finally over. Victory had never come so bitter.