A Double-Edged Sword

by sjasogun

2. Gloomy Skies

They met up at the conference hall at sunset, just as agreed. All of the majors and the captains from the meeting were there, but with one key difference. There were about three thousand soldiers extra, organized by battalion and company, each facing the colonel. The entire Sixth Regiment of the Royal Equestrian Army assembled. It was truly a sight to see.

Double looked to his right to take a quick glance at Razor, who was undoubtedly itching to comment on – or, more likely, to joke about – this entire ordeal. He’d have to wait for that until it was time to set up camp though, as it was their job to make sure that their subordinates would refrain from joking until then as well.

But even though Major Chevalier’s favorite pastime was complaining about Razor – more often than not when Razor was actually around himself – he had never been caught setting a bad example in front of his troops. In that respect, Razor was the perfect officer, both capable of keeping his subordinates in line as well as being genuinely liked by them. It was a tough balance to strike, but Razor seemed to do it naturally. He’d likely rise to the title of Colonel or even Brigadier one day.

Double turned his attention back to the front again as Colonel Steel announced that they’d gallop up to Smokey Mountain where they would set up camp for the night.

Then he galloped off.

And at a tremendous speed, no less.

They all stood there for a few moments, flabbergasted that the colonel had been so to-the-point – Double had expected a short speech at least – but quickly snapped out of it as one of the other majors and his battalion followed him without hesitating. Everypony was galloping at their fastest, trying to keep up with the colonel's speed, and so the two week long journey to Baltimare had begun.

By the time they reached the place the colonel deemed good enough to set up camp it was already nearing midnight and everypony was panting heavily, not in the least because of the heavy gear they were carrying. The major wasted no time and called them to him for instructions on setting up camp.

Truth to be told, Double had expected a group of three thousand ponies to have trouble setting up camp anywhere, but the colonel had clearly thought this out well; the valley they had set up camp in was immense, easily capable of containing three or four regiments, but was also rather barren, mostly consisting of solid rock. This environment had discouraged ponies from building a settlement here, but it was perfect for a group this large to set up camp. At long last, Double was able to lay himself to rest in his tent and fell asleep immediately.

The rest of the journey proceeded mostly uneventfully. They had set up camp close to a city or town several times to restock on food and water for the road, but had never actually gone through one, probably to prevent alarming the citizens, who were already antsy because of these sudden developments. Not to say that there was no response from the citizens – far from that.

The local foals often watched their busy camp from a distance, sometimes daring each other to approach them (none of them ever did). More often than not the mayor of the town would stop by and ask the colonel whether they could be of assistance in any way, although the answer would invariably be a polite ‘no’.

The most memorable events both happened about halfway through their journey. The first was their stop at Ponyville, where there had been a small panic when the colonel had gone missing for almost two hours. Major Chevalier had been mental and had ordered their entire battalion to search Ponyville top to bottom.

It had been pointless though, as the colonel met them when they were still on the way there, though, covered in confetti and angrily mumbling something to himself about ‘hyperactive youngsters’. The major had initially wanted to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice, but the colonel was adamant that it was both unnecessary and a complete waste of their time. Eventually he gave in, but since that evening Razor had been replaced as his favorite complaining subject.

The second event might even have been more of a shock in retrospect. The next day at noon they encountered two griffons, apparently traveling vendors. They seemed anxious when they approached them, but honestly, who could blame them? Not only would they feel the guilt of their former compatriots starting a war against the country they now lived in, but they were also the ones who had the most to lose if the griffons were to win the war – although griffons who decided to emigrate weren’t considered traitors, it was very possible for that vision to change over the course of the war.

Despite their anxiety they tried their best to sell them something, but nopony bought anything. It was an awkward moment for both of their groups as they moved on.

That night the mood around the campfire had been very grim, the conversation often going silent. Even the major ran out of complaining material very quickly. All of them were glad when the major announced he would retire for the evening – that meant they were free to go as well without breaking the etiquette. While Hawk followed the major’s example and went to his tent, Razor went to look for other people to strike up a conversation with, and Double followed him.

They didn’t have much luck. The first two groups they passed were completely silent and the third one was the source of a hushed discussion. Having nothing better to do and knowing they wouldn’t be able to sleep yet Razor and Double sat down with them, the soldiers respectfully moving aside as their superiors sat down.

“Now, as I was saying,” a dark purple earth pony continued, taking a nervous glance at the two captains, “I really don’t see where you’re coming from, Flash. They started all of this, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, Chariot,” a light yellow unicorn replied, clearly annoyed, “that those griffons we saw earlier today obviously aren’t like how you have been describing them as ruthless murderers the last couple of nights!”

Oh. There you had it. Well, that issue had to come up at some point.

“I mean, we all knew that you were boasting, and I wouldn’t even have minded if you’d just continued that tonight, but you crossed the line when you accused those friendly vendors of wanting us, in your words, ‘dead as much as the next griffon’!” Flash snorted, getting nods from most of the others in the circle, but some just stared at him angrily.

“Well, what is to say they wouldn’t do it if they could without risking their own feathery flanks?” Chariot replied, now clearly angry too.

“Well, what is to say they would?” Flash countered.

“Look, if you want to underestimate our enemies, fine, but don’t come crying to me when one of those feathery murderers betrays you.” Chariot said mockingly.

Flash stood up, followed immediately by Chariot, forgetting that there were two captains present. The rest of the soldiers were looking back and forth between the two seething ponies and their captains. Razor coughed, too loud to be credible, but it did the trick – the two noticed him, realized what they were doing and sat down again, for the time being content with shooting each other angry glares. Double sighed.

“You’re both right.” he said, surprising them enough to turn their attention away from each other. “There is no reason to mistrust a griffon for being a griffon…”

Flash looked smugly at Chariot, who opened his mouth to say something before Double interrupted him again.

“… but you should also be wary of the fact that we are still at war with their nation. While I don’t think any griffon currently living in Equestria would be a threat you should think twice before trusting a griffon from the Empire, at least as long as this war is going on.”

“Ha!” Chariot shouted triumphantly, but before Flash could respond Razor Wing got up.

“That’s enough you two. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Didn’t they teach you in foaltergarten that everypony is unique? You can’t judge their entire species by how some of them act, not for worse but also not for the better. How would you like it to be compared to King Sombra?”

Both Flash and Chariot looked at their hooves, clearly ashamed of their childish behavior.

“And rightfully so.” Double thought.

He spoke up again while standing up next to Razor. “I think it is time for all of us to retire for the night. We still have a long way ahead of us. Goodnight.”

“G’night captain.” they echoed as Double and Razor walked off to their tents.

When he got to his tent, though, Double found that he wasn’t able to sleep. This group of soldiers had learned their lesson, sure, but these kind of thoughts were bound to crop up again if they hadn’t already. But that was not that disturbed him. There had been something else going on, a general gloomy mood that had affected everypony. It had something to do with those griffon vendors, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was about them that disturbed him. He trusted them alright, that was not the problem.

Then what was it?

Then, it hit him, and it was so obvious that he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

The griffons they would inevitably have to fight would have families. They would have left a family back at home, a family that would be torn apart if they were to die. Members of a clan, a social structure that, while not used in Equestria, he knew to be like a large family as well. Family even, however distantly, of those two friendly vendors.

That was what had bothered him. That was what had bothered all of them that night. Most of them must’ve realized it sooner, but their meeting with those vendors this afternoon had suddenly made it all too real. Great Celestia, what had he gotten himself into?

No, he reprimanded himself. That was another pointless train of thought – and he seemed to have a lot of those lately. He hadn’t even seen the frontlines yet, let alone killed somepony – somegriffon – yet.

Yet.

No, he shouldn’t think like that – it wasn’t even certain that their company would even have to do any fighting. For all he knew they would be kept in reserve for the entire duration of the war, if there would be any bloodshed at all! And even if it did come to that, there was no sense worrying over it now, nor would there be any sense worrying over it afterwards. He couldn’t predict the future nor resurrect the dead.

His last, comforting thought before falling into a quiet, dreamless sleep was that it would all probably just blow over.

That day, another hundred lives were lost in the battles.