//------------------------------// // Death of a Soldier // Story: Death of a Soldier // by dusk flame //------------------------------// My name is Lightning Rhodes, son of Starry Rhodes, a retired guardspony. When I was still a young colt, my mother split her time between taking care of me and performing her duties in the guard. I never knew my birth father. I tried asking my mother about him once when I was younger but her eyes glazed over and she fell to the floor shaking. It took me and some of her fellow guardsponies hours to calm her back down, and a lot of things were said that confused me at the time. It wasn't until later that I did some research and found out she was held captive by a band of rebels for three months, starting from just over nine months before I was born. The day I caused my mother's meltdown will stay with me forever for two other reasons. The first is that it was the day I got my cutiemark. I said to my mother I would become a guardspony, and protect everything that needs to be protected. I said it with such conviction and strength that my cutiemark appeared, two lightning bolts wrapping around an obsidian shield. The second reason is that was the day I was formally admitted into a school meant for young guardsponies to be. It was a special school that was meant for those like me who had an iron determination to become a member of the guard. On my seventeenth birthday, after years of training for it, I was formally inducted into the guard. It was the happiest day of my life, and it was the day before my mother announced her own retirement from the guard. It didn't really surprise anypony, she had been in the guard for twenty years by then, but I was shocked that she would leave immediately after I joined. When I asked her why she did what she did, she told me, "because you no longer need my protection. Now, you will be the one to protect me." I got some dust in my eye after that and then I kind of tripped and fell into her outstretched hoof... ok so I gave up all semblance of bearing and then cried and hugged my mom with everything I had in me, happy? Things in my life were pretty good during those times. I went out on patrols, I kept the peace, I arrested ponies when they were causing harm, and I never once looked back in regret. A few years passed me by like this and I thought it'd just be the same thing day in day out, but then the rebels attacked. They had gone quiet ever since Celestia banished Nightmare moon a few years ago, but now we realized all too late that they had just spent time gathering forces and biding their time. It didn't take very long but a full scale war broke out. The guard split into two factions, one to combat the rebels directly, and the other to continue normal guard operations. I jumped at the chance to become a soldier. The thought of rooting out evil was enormously appealing to me, rather then waiting for it to strike first. When my application was accepted, I went through more training, worlds apart from that of the guard. I learned to kill, I learned how to use all manner of weapons, and I became far stronger then I ever thought possible. The day I graduated from soldier training, I and the rest of my flight were sent off as reinforcements to break a siege of one of our re-purposed guardspony outposts. When we got there, we were hailed as heroes for cutting through the blockades and bringing in much needed supplies. We spent the next week afterwards enduring the war of attrition the rebels insisted on waging, but as we were on the verge of collapse, another flight of trainees strengthened our ranks and larder once more. This cycle went on for another month. We only made it through because of the near-extreme measures our leaders took to make sure our supplies lasted till the next group of reinforcements joined us. We would survive daily attacks, followed by our own counter attacks. Losses on both sides were heavy and our moral took hits each and every day, but our unit commander, Sergent Melon, brought forth a dangerous plan. The day the next wave of reinforcements arrived, we would all celebrate and relax in preparation for our final assault. We had discovered the staging point of the rebels. Our numbers and strength were low enough that to attack now would cause nothing more then mutually assured destruction on both sides, so time was needed to reclaim our superiority. It was to be three days until the next flight of trainees would graduate, a day we all anticipated with baited breath... Three days we waited, and on the eve of the third day when our reinforcements should have arrived, none came. We almost lost all hope that day, but Sergent Melon kept our moral up enough to keep us moving forward. We prepared ourselves for the fight that was to come, and we prepared ourselves for the slaughter that would surely happen the next day. The base commander, Major Hickory, decided that enough was enough two days after our missed reinforcements. He gathered the troops, fed us with half our remaining rations, and ordered everyone to equip themselves with as many weapons as they could use. Fully geared, we took to the skies and began our assault on the rebels. Losses were heavy, in the first few hours half of our numbers were fallen, but the rebels were falling faster. By the time the sun set the battle was over and we had won. A quarter of our number remained, and some of my closest friends were no longer with me, but it was finally over. When we returned to Canterlot base, each and every one of us were given promotions and awards. We had survived, we had triumphed, and we were made ready for battle once more. Those of us at the outpost were organized into three flights, and we were each sent to different high activity zones in order to support our fellow soldiers. The first one my flight went to was like hell, but it was nothing worse then the outpost, and both tours were nothing compared to my third and final one. It was a clear morning, a perfect day, and I was preparing to ship off with my flight to reclaim one of our strongholds that had fallen into rebel hooves. The last of our supplies packed, we formed up and took flight. It was an hour flight to the stronghold, far to the west, and we were itching for combat. Everything was going according to plan, the stronghold was just peeking over the horizon... but then the sky turned to ash. I don't know how long the initial assault lasted. Ponies all around me were either burnt from the magic flames or blown out of the sky. I saw one of my closest friends get a wing torn off by shrapnel from a broken chest piece. I tried to fly down and help him to the ground but he was impaled by a fallen spear and then plummeted toward the ground. I... saw him try to get up after falling but he couldn't support his own weight. One of the rebels found him and dragged him away by a splintered leg. Our leaders managed to rally us again but we no longer had the numbers to fight back. The lieutenant demanded we continue the mission, while also organizing a tactical retreat for the higher ranking soldiers that remained, but a sergeant killed him on the spot claiming treason. Our unit fractured, some siding with the sergeant and others demanding he be hung for treason himself. While they argued, the rebels closed down on us like a trap and after fighting for our lives only myself and a few others managed to get away, albeit with losses. During the escape I lost the feeling in my one wing and foreleg, when I looked back down at myself I realized I had the head of spear sticking out of me. I tried not to panic as I ran away as fast as three hooves and a wing could take me, and I was fortunate enough to make it to a small clearing with a few other bruised and broken survivors. We compared notes after administering what first aid we could, and when a few went to do some recon they reported that another twenty or so were captured alive. I wanted to go back, to do something, but we all agreed there was nothing more to be done except report total mission failure to our superiors and try not to die ourselves. When we finally made it back and gave our report, we were all tried and imprisoned as deserters. After the single most soul crushing moment in my life, after seeing all of my closest friends die, after barely surviving myself and losing a wing I was labeled a coward. I nearly gave up hope and died the second they left me alone. I wanted so badly to just end it all right then, but something in me wouldn't let me. Something in me knew that if I curled up and died right then and there I would never forgive myself and so I waited. I waited, and waited, and continued to wait. Food came, doctors checked on me, days past, and eventually I talked to some ponies. I found out that the war was waning. Celestia had come back to us in full, and her rage at the so called "New Lunar Republic" was horrifying. Fortress after fortress fell to her celestial wrath and slowly the rebels abandoned their posts and went into hiding. After years of brutal fighting, after years of an unknowable amount of pony deaths, the war was over. Celestia immediately took action to ensure nothing like this would ever happen again. Nopony really knows what all she did, but all over Equestria ponies popped up out of nowhere with severe amnesia, only some of them having families that recognized and took them in. I and many other "war criminals" were released immediately and all soldiers were returned to the guard. This created a rift within the guard, the guardsponies hated the soldiers and the soldiers hated the guardsponies. I myself was given a very lucrative post at Canterlot Castle and a nice promotion as an apology of being wrongly imprisoned. I was... happy... with my new comfortable life and I even found myself a marefriend... not that it was difficult. Because of the war the already mare-heavy population was skewed even more. Some areas were even permitting herding to restore population centers. There was even pressure put onto Celestia herself to take a mate in order to increase the number of Alicorns but the attempt was made only once. I was settled into my new life but something always seemed... off. I kept jumping at shadows, and I almost burned my house down trying to light the stove. I found that I had acquired an extreme fear of fire and nopony I talked to could explain the whole host of other symptoms I had gained. A few doctors said it was nothing more then jitters from all the suffering I had gone through and I would be perfectly okay in time. I began taking long walks around the castle to calm my nerves and every day I would find myself looking out over the city from the tallest tower. It was comforting to be up in the sky again, my one wing bound to my side, the other held tight. I began to toy with my spear as I looked over the side but I shook my head with a sad smile and walked home. The next day I proposed to my marefriend. It wasn't anything glamorous, I just took her out to the gardens for a peaceful and relaxing picnic. She didn't respond right away, only crying. I thought it was happiness and when I went to embrace her she pushed me away and tried to compose herself. At this point I was starting to fear for the worst and, very slowly, she began. She told me about how it hardly seemed like I was aware of myself anymore, how sometimes I would stare off into space for an hour or two. She mentioned how little time we actually spent together, and how all my free time I spent on my walks around the castle. After muttering a token apology, she placed the ring I bought her on the ground and walked away... I'd like to say I took things rather well but truth be told I don't remember much. What I do remember is being restrained and a portion of the gardens being trashed. Fortunately, nopony got hurt and by the end of it I discovered I was just one of a growing number of ex-soldiers who were having problems adjusting to living regular lives. As I thought back on things, everything seemed to click at that moment. The lapses in memory, the irrational fears and jumpiness, everything just fit and I was placed into a program designed to help with our rehabilitation. Things seemed to be going well, I was improving but there was still a hole in my heart that nothing seemed to fill. I found myself sleeping around with various mares, a practice all too common these days, but nothing I did made me feel any better about myself. I tried turning to drink to make me feel better, but that only ever ended in nights alone remembering all the horrors I lived through. Eventually, I just fell into my old habit of walking around the castle grounds. Once more I found myself looking over the city and I came down with a nearly irresistible urge to jump off the balcony and just fly again. I stepped closer to the edge, leaned over the railing, looked down at the city below, and then the ground even farther below that. My eyes turned misty as I began to think about the past and slowly, ever so slowly, I backed away. I went home to collect a few things and once more returned to the tower. Now, I sit here writing my story. I write because I need to, because I have to get these feelings out of me. They are poisoning me, tearing me up from the inside... but now that I no longer hold them they can poison the world, an unforgivable offense. There's nothing more for me to do now but finish my thoughts but I wonder "Princess... Why didn't you ever publish this? Why didn't you publish anything about the war all those years ago? It's known that there was a conflict but this... this is just insane!" "You have to understand... The effects of this war on the minds of my little ponies were horrific. It took years upon years of memory spells to ease away the pains and only the deaths of those that lived it could finish the repairs. We didn't know back then what war could do to a pony's mind, how horribly it could shatter one's balance. Letters like this one were all too common, some worse then others. As sad as it is to say, this is one of the more moderate ones, even among those left by a coherent mind. "So... what happened to him in the end?" "We're not sure exactly... the observation tower was in disarray when they found the letter all those years ago. Sargent Rhodes clearly died from the fall but... it was always unknown if it was homicide or suicide. The fact that the letter is clearly unfinished only adds more mystery to the situation.