This is for the Veterans

by MrDenim

Coming Home

After… How long has it been? Over a year in Zebrica, I believe, I’m coming home. War… War is never pretty. Before I travelled along the frontlines, I never understood the saying, “Those that have died have seen the end of war.”

But now I do. Almost every night after the war ended I have been plagued by nightmares, as if my mind had turned against me, forcing me to relive the battles over and over and over again…

I sighed and looked at my reflection through the window of the air ship. A light tan, brown maned, light green eyed stallion stared back. There was nothing in his eyes, no emotion, nothing that makes him… him. I turned to look at my cutie mark, a collection of grapes stared back. I huffed at the fact that just a mere two years ago I was the owner of one of the most successful vineyards in Equestria. But now, now I’m a sergeant of the Royal Rangers. A sergeant that wants nothing more than to return to his wife and child.

I closed my eyes and pictured her. Her soft pink mane, her sky blue coat, her dandelion cutie mark, her gorgeous aqua marine eyes. Even the bow that she wears. The last time I saw her, she was giving our nine year old filly her breakfast. I snickered at the image of her swallowing a whole bowl of cereal in less than a minute.

I looked out the window once more and saw the capitol in the distance. Its white and gold spires stretched out into the air like claws trying to rip the sky into tiny strands of azure ribbon. It may have just been my imagination, but the mountain appeared to be shorter than when I saw it last. The helmsmare lowered us towards port 4F. There was a wave of color all over the area.

The noise from the crowd was impossible to not hear; even as high as we were I was still able to hear the ever growing crescendo of cheering from the families that were soon to be reunited. Try as I might, I wasn’t able to make out the forms, or even the colors, of my wife and child.

The sound of the crowd reached an unbearable level when we finally made port and the hatch opened, letting the cheers in without restraint. Everyone on board—yes, everyone, as there were more than just ponies on the air ship—got to their hooves, paws, or feet and grabbed their gear, either by magic, wing, or hoof or paw again. We all filed into a single line that was separated into three at the bow, center, and stern of the ship. I was the closest to the bow, so I marched into line and waited for those with permanent injuries, such as an amputated limb, to reach land first.

When it was finally my turn, I readjusted the satchel to where it laid upon my back. I stepped off of the plank of iron that bridged the ship with the port and stepped to the side to keep a Diamond Dog pup from running into me. I turned back to the ship and saw a large male Diamond Dog with a steel chest plate protecting his torso, a slightly rusted claymore was on his back, kneel to the ground and caught his son in a flying hug, tears of happiness streaking his face. A female Diamond Dog, a Sheila if I remember them being called, embraced her mate in a tight enough grip to where I could distinctly hear the chest plate groan from the pressure.

I turned back to the crowd and made my way through, stopping every so often to accept a shake of a hoof, paw, hand, or claw in thanks for my service. I did nothing but give a small smile, a brief ‘I did what I had to do.’ and a nod of the head. A few times I spotted a few faces I recognized from my platoon, one in particular caught my eye.

He was a tall, muscled gryphon. His head feathers started from a pasty white and faded into a dark red. His slightly scarred beak was locked in a permanent grimace. He caught my eye because we know each other.

He caught my eye because, if I had paid more attention, he would still have his right wing.

In place of it was a stump, still wrapped in a field medic’s gauze in need of replacing. He was locked in a three way hug with his mate and chick. As they were turning in place, his eyes shifted until they locked with mine. We stood there and looked into the other’s eyes. We saw the same thing.

Nothing.

He gave me a barely perceptible nod and continued to hug his family. I did nothing but stare for a few seconds more. I made my way through the now thinning crowd and headed for the exit, to reach the Canterlot outskirts so that way I could make my way towards Ponyville, my home.

The reason why—if a reason was really needed—I wasn’t worried about not finding my wife and child in the crowd was simple, if mischievous.

I didn’t tell them I was returning home.

As I made my way past the Welcome to Ponyville! sign, I took in a breath as I tried to steady my shaking limbs. I was scared, I realized, of the possibility that neither of them will be there when I reach our home. That some random family that wears their coat and their names had taken their place. I could stand my ground against a quarter battalion of zebra shamans without a cracking of my nerves. I could be the first to charge into a battle without a worry of loss of life or limb. Yet the one thing that I should be happy about was terrifying me the most.

I shook my head and took a few breaths. I made my way through the market district, receiving the whispering of future gossip turn towards me. A few of the ponies gave me a nod of respect when they recognized me and the insignia on my uniform.

ROYAL RANGERS. It said. A few more nodded when they saw what my dog tags read,

VINE
GRAPE T. 0 NEG
261 30 2837
ERR XL
NO PREFERENCE

I gave multiple, yet brief, nods in return without slowing down my stride. I kept up my pace until I was on the outskirts of the village and a picket fence was in sight. The paper was still on the doormat so I stood at the entrance of the property and waited for her to open the door to grab it.

I only had to wait for a few minutes before the doorknob turned and the door swung inward. My wife took a single step out into the yard and bowed down to grab the paper with her mouth. Just before she reached it, her eyes shifted upwards until they caught sight of a pair of light brown hooves. They widened. She slowly lifted her head, her eyes taking in every single detail they could muster; the paper was left forgotten on the mat.

She started tearing up when she caught my smiling face. She slapped a hoof over her mouth to keep out a happy sob, a tear leaving a damp streak down her left cheek.

I smiled larger and said, “Hey, hone’. I’m back.”

She suddenly had me in a death grip, tears streaming down her face, her lips locked with mine. I fell backwards and we just laid there amongst the flowers in each other’s embrace. We stayed like that for what felt like forever until we separated, yet I didn’t want it to end. That thought was accented by my still puckered lips moving my body forward a few inches before they realized that there wasn’t anything else pushing back. I opened my eyes and saw her slightly bloodshot eyes staring lovingly into mine.

She leaned forward and whispered something provocative into my ear, making me blush. As much I wanted it… I mean I really wanted it, I shook my head and got to my hooves and helped her up. I walked over to and shut the door then leaned against my wife as I lead her to the school building.

Once we got there I leaned a little to the side and caught sight of my daughter asleep in the back of the class. My wife roughly rubbed my short mane and said, “She gets it from you.”

I smiled proudly. “Yeah, she does.”

She rolled her eyes as we both walked into the lobby, where a light tan coated, brown maned receptionist was sitting. She looked at us and noticed my dog tags and smiled. We said that we were taking our daughter home today to celebrate my return, but to not mention it to anyone, just that her mom was here to check her out for a dentist’s appointment.

Before my wife made her way down to Ms. Cheerilee’s classroom, she turned to me and said, “We probably should schedule an appointment for her, she hasn’t gone in a while.”

I nodded and said that I’ll ask Colgate in a few days. She nodded and turned down the hallway. I sat down in the waiting area and suddenly thought of a brilliant idea. I barged into the principal’s office and quickly explained the plan. He nodded and waited for them to show up at the receptionist desk. When they did he overly shouted.

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t allow you to left her leave during the school day, maybe at another time—”

I slammed a hoof against the top of the desk, enough to rattle it, and shouted, “That’s not good enough!”

I stage walked out of his office and saw them both staring at me. Amusement was in my wife’s eyes, while disbelief and pure happiness were in my daughter’s.

“Oh hey honey, Scoots. I was trying to explain to the principal how a few days away from school were more beneficial for my growing daughter’s health but he wouldn’t listen! So I figured that we’re going to—”

“Daddy!”

She flapped her wings really hard and slammed into my stomach, moving fast enough to make a small orange contrail. I fell to my haunches with my front hooves wrapped around her, while my daughter was embracing my neck, tears falling down her face and her nose getting stuffy. I looked down at her with glistening eyes.

“Please tell me that you’re here to stay.” Her muffled voice said against my neck.

I nodded and said, “I’m here to stay. I’m home for good.”

Tears started falling down my face and my nose was getting stuffy as well. I embraced my wife into a family hug and thought, Yup. I’m home for good…