Hell on Earth

by bobdat

Chapter One

Hell on Earth
Chapter One

June

School was beginning to drag.
I was part of a strange generation. Normally, colts and fillies receive their cutie mark somewhere around the age of thirteen or fourteen, but I turned fourteen in February 1935, and my flank was still blank all those years later. The reason I'm starting here with this story is because strangely enough, I was not alone.
My class at school had thirty ponies exactly, and only three or four of them had their cutie marks by that June. There was one month and one day remaining of school, exactly, and then that was it. Out into the big, wide world, with nothing to do except get on with life.
I say that, but I had been accepted to Manechester University for the next academic year, just a hundred miles or so to the north. So I had something to do after the summer, but my, what a summer it was turning out to be.
Summer 1939 is a summer I will never forget, although the truly best weather came in July and August. The reason I chose June for my first entry was for what happened when I got home that day.

As usual, I put my saddlebags down and grabbed a couple of apples from the sack. I went out into the back garden to soak up some of the sun and relax, then I saw something that changed my life forever.
Most ponies think of the day they got their cutie mark as the day that their life changed, but I can clearly remember this day changing my life, much more than when I got my cutie mark. By the time my cutie mark appeared, I knew what I was doing.
What I saw was a huge black pegasus hurtling through the sky at high speed. Now, don't get me wrong, I've seen hundreds of high speed pegasi before. But this one was something quite remarkable. He had a huge wingspan, bigger than anything I'd ever seen before, including my own (which, might I say, was impressive to say the least). Plus, his coat was as black as the night sky, which I had never seen before.

He buzzed the house at low altitude before disappearing over the nearby wood. I was, well, inspired. I could fly, but with nothing like the grace and beauty he had. His wings had been as level as a pond all the way, outstretched in all of their magnificence.
I found out that evening what he'd been doing.
“Diplomats in Griffonry are voicing their concerns at the aggressive foreign policy being pursued by the Grand Griffon, Grelowny. However, griffons throughout Griffonry and the Unified Queendoms are praising his actions.
The Prime Pony of the Unified Queendoms, Level Head, has reluctantly admitted that, in response to these aggressive moves, the UQ has been forced to step up its military practices.”

That radio broadcast was strange. It was so significant to so many ponies, but yet it seemed so distant... some griffons had visited our school a few years ago, but they'd sounded strange and had only been there a few weeks.
That evening, to try and shake the feeling of foreboding that had managed to permeate my entire being, I went for a flight, following the path I'd seen that magnificent pegasus follow just earlier, as the red sun set. It was one of the longest days of the year, and so I stayed out late, enjoying the fresh air and freedom it afforded me. Despite the two connected events I'd seen that day, the beauty of the country reassured me. Surely nothing could harm this?

July

School finally finished with a sort of sigh, rather than a cheer. The weather was stunningly good, but also very tiring, and I don't think anyone had the motivation to throw a big party or anything. Instead, I just walked home that day, thinking back over all I'd done at school over the years, and looking to the future. The big city living promised by Manechester appealed to me, and everything suddenly seemed new and exciting.

At home, mum and dad were ready to congratulate me on finally finishing school, complete with a slice of cake, which was delicious. As an only child, I suspected they were already feeling a few twinges of sadness at my leaving, despite the fact that it was a couple of months yet until I finally had to go. The problem was, staying on the family barley farm didn't appeal to my adventurous nature. Studying and learning may sound boring, but it was the best route into an exciting life that I could get. It was strange, thinking about it, that adventure actually found me, rather than the other way around. I could have stayed at home and it would have made no difference.

I spent the remains of July going swimming in the local pony and just enjoying the weather. My friends from school were around less and less, and before long it became obvious that despite our promises, we weren't really going to keep in touch. But I didn't mind. It was like beginning a fresh chapter in my life, without the hanging tentacles of what had gone before to drag me back. I could be whoever I wanted to be. That feeling of the freedom of youth never left me, even after what happened later. It was the best feeling. Well, perhaps the second best.

October

August and September were, of course, the harvest months, so I spent almost all of my time helping my parents bring in the crops from the fields. Hard, hot work, but worth it eventually.
The first day of October was the important one for me. It was the day I left home, clutching a suitcase and trying not to let my emotions get the better of me as I hugged my mother, then shook my father's hoof. And that was it. No longer a colt, now a stallion.

The journey to Manechester was uneventful, to say the least. The weather was beginning to turn, and I could feel a few drops of cold rain hitting me as I glided towards the lights of the city, catching sight of the striking spires of the university as soon as I got close enough. I had a small map, so I didn't really have any trouble finding the building my room was in. The only problem was, I was in room fifteen. The numbers went straight from fourteen to sixteen. Apparently, there was no fifteen.

Feeling a little sheepish, but determined not to look like an idiot on my first day, I tapped a young mare on the shoulder.
“Oh, erm, hi, do you know where room fifteen is?” I asked, more nervously than I like to remember.
“You're new here too? Well, it looks like it's on the far side, just there. Even numbers are always on opposite sides to the odd numbers.” She pointed with her moss green hoof.
“Thank you.” I hurried away without waiting for a reply, and without really looking at her. It was so obvious, now that I thought about it. But in the countryside, all the houses had been spread out, so it hadn't mattered. I burned red, thankful she couldn't see me.

The room was nice. It was smaller than I was used to, but comfortable, and with a few touches, could be quite a nice place to live. The view looked out over the city, which was at least quite good. For now, though, I simply dropped my suitcase off and headed straight for the dining hall. Anything to get some food, the journey had really made me hungry.
Dinner was a grand affair, with everypony dressed their best, old and new arrivals alike. At the head of the tables sat elderly ponies, clearly high-ups within the university. As a first-year, I took a seat right down at the opposite end, quite pleased that I didn't have to converse with anyone so sophisticated. The walls were covered in huge portraits of important ponies, mainly stallions, wearing top hats and waistcoats. This kind of thing didn't particularly appeal to me, all this grandeur, but it was a change, and that was nice.

Looking around at all of my fellow students, I noticed a serious shortage of cutie marks. A large number of ponies going into university usually have cutie marks relating to their chosen subject, but for some reason, there were very few among students.
I spotted the moss green mare sat a few tables across. She didn't have her cutie mark either, but she did have a striking mane and tail. They were wavy, yes not as long as I was used to, a very metropolitan style.

My thoughts were interrupted by somepony sitting down beside me. I decided I had better make friends since I was here, so I turned to say hello, only to be interrupted by a bright smiling face appearing inches from my nose.
“Hi! You're new too? I just got here, and I'm really hungry.” He said as quickly as seemed possible.
“Oh, well yes, I am.” I replied, rather more slowly.
“I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Barrel Chest.” The yellow stallion said, grabbing my hoof and shaking it.
“I'm Avro.”
“Only one name?”
“Yes, just one.”
“Well, it's great to meet you, Avro.” He kept shaking my hoof until I gently pulled it away from him.

Food was served shortly afterwards, and Barrel continued yapping away about every little thing he could think of. He ranged from the quality of the accommodation to international politics without even waiting for a reply from me, which I didn't mind too much, because it left me free to concentrate on my food.
“Do you follow the news, Avro?” He finally said, pausing to eat a giant spoonful of salad.
“Oh, yes usually, but I've been busy packing lately.”
“I take it you know about Griffonry? Seems like something might happen there.”
“Yes, I suppose.”

Seems strange that when things happen, they happen in a big rush. Just after arriving at university and leaving home, the radio once again changed my life forever. But I suspect that this time, it changed everyone's lives.
“Hush everypony, hush!”
The hall fell deadly silent.
“I must express my utmost regret for this, but the United Queendoms are left with no other choice. As a response to the aggressive expansionist policies of Griffonry, we have no option but to declare war on their country until these policies are halted, willingly or not.” The tired voice of Level Head stuck fear into me.
“I am henceforth announcing my resignation as Prime Pony, to allow for a war leader to take over. This leader has been chosen as Cigar. Once again, I must express my utmost regret that it has come to this.”

The radio broadcast continued, but it was switched off by someone at the far end of the table. Before everypony could burst into discussion, the president of the university stood up.
“Everypony, clearly this announcement, which we have been expecting for a while, has serious repercussions on this university. If conscription is introduced, I would like to make it clear that every pony who desires to serve his or her country is free to do so, and will be free to return as soon as this terrible crisis is over.”

December

Following the announcement, about half of the students at the university left to join the armed forces, despite the government's assurances that students were not required to be conscripted. The choice to remain played heavily on my mind. As an eighteen year old, I could join any of the branches of the military, yet I was afraid of what might happen. The Griffons seemed scared by our declaration of war, and fell quiet, but nobody believed that they had given up. They had designs on taking over the United Queendoms, that was for sure. And they weren't going to stop. But what could I have done?

I continued my studies in a quiet university, spending most of my time with Barrel. We shared a few classes, and he only lived next door but one.

Because of the sudden quiet regarding the war – there hadn't even been any battles – I didn't think about it too much. But something else caught my eye, or might I say, somepony else.
She really did look beautiful, that moss green mare. I admired her from afar whenever I saw her, which wasn't very often. She must have chosen to remain studying as well, or else she would have disappeared. Her mane was a green colour too, but it was emerald green and looked amazingly nice. I wanted to get to know her, but all of the mares seemed so sophisticated and distant. I was surprised she even helped me find my room on the first day.

I knew all about the popular ponies. There had been some at my old school. They only ever spoke to each other and looked down on everypony else. The mare I watched was clearly one of the popular ones. She had a group of friends of her own, and never looked my way. Even speaking to her was but a pipe dream, so I tried to forget about it and concentrate on what was coming up. I was returning home for Hearth's Warming Eve, right through until Winter Wrap Up, then it was exam time once again.

Once again, fate twisted just a week before I was going to leave. The university was holding its traditional formal ball before Hearth's Warming Eve, which meant that everypony attending had to dance. And not just the kind of dance I did at home when there was a great song on the radio, real dancing. Ballroom dancing.

I had no idea how to ballroom dance, and neither did Barrel, so we signed up for the extra classes. It was better to learn early on and then be able to go to all the dances we liked, than putting it off just because we weren't going to the first one.
So, that's how I found myself trudging through the snow on a December morning, heading for a large gymnasium for my first dancing lesson. Who knew, it could have turned out to be my super special talent.

The mare instructing us was very old and very angry. She never spoke, only shouted or screamed, but she did play the most beautiful music, which seemed totally wrong for her to be doing. Her personality didn't match it at all.
There was a major problem that I hadn't foreseen. In order to ballroom dance, you had to have a partner. A partner who was a mare. And there were more mares than stallions there, so I definitely had to have a mare partner. This was terrible. I had no idea how to dance, and now I had to look like an idiot in front of a mare.

“Okay ponies, please go and find a partner. You will be sticking with this partner all through the week's lessons, so pick wisely!”
My heart had turned to ice, and my hooves were actually shaking. I was going to be the worst dancer and look really stupid... I couldn't move.

Thankfully, neither could any of the other stallions, so the mares came to us. A few of them already had friends, so they paired off immediately. Then more and more pairs linked up and I rapidly found myself faced with a scrawny mare with only half of her teeth. Panicking, I looked around for an escape, anything at all, but there was nothing.

Resigned to my fate, I took a step forward towards my new partner.
“Excuse me?” A hoof tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned and found myself staring straight into the most beautiful pair of green eyes I had ever seen. They had a special kind of quality to them, something about their shape that melted my heart in an instant. Her eyes were open wide, and she blinked with her long eyelashes, still staring back.
“Do you have a partner yet? Only I don't, and I was wondering if you'd like to pair up.” Her voice wasn't a cliché, it wasn't syrupy or like honey, perhaps as I had imagined it would be. In my haste when I had first met her, I didn't know what she sounded like. But now I knew, and it was just as beautiful as her eyes, which I was still staring into.

She had a kind of grounded accent that suggested she wasn't too posh, and yet she was so well spoken.
“Well?” Now she was a little impatient.
“Oh... well, okay then.”
Okay then? A beautiful mare offered to be my dance partner, and yet all I could say was 'okay then'? I felt like a fool. We moved into an open area of the hall, and then I couldn't look at her as I waited for the first set of instructions. My cheeks were burning again.

“Now everypony has a partner, we will begin with a Waltz. Take your partner with your forelegs. Stallions, right hoof on her waist. Hold her right hoof with your left, then mares, your left hoof on his right shoulder.”
I did as instructed, and found myself staring straight at her again, her eyes catching the light perfectly. She didn't seem interested, though, and stared into space, probably having already written me off as an idiot.
“Now, watch my hooves. One two three, one two three, one two three, now you try.”
It seemed simple, so I did as instructed.
“Ready?” I asked her, managing to get the word out without choking on it.
“Yes.” Now she was looking at me again, with a warm smile.

We began dancing. I'd like to say it was magical, and everypony else disappeared until it was just us, but it was basically the opposite. I was as terrible as I had imagined. But the best part was that she was even worse than me. I had to guide her for almost every step, and she kept getting confused. At first I was so nervous that she might get upset and think it was my fault, but before long we were laughing about it.
“Oh, which is it? Left or right?”
“Left, I think.”
“Wait, no that's right, oops.”
Occasionally she'd look up from her hooves and catch me looking at her, but she just smiled and went back to her feet.

Dancing was tiring, and before long the class was over.
“You may go. Be back here, same time tomorrow. Next time we do the Cha Cha Cha.” The instructor bawled.
The mare hurried away as soon as she heard those words, and I found myself stood by myself suddenly. Even Barrel had disappeared. I made my way back to my room, no further plans for the day. All I could think about was the green mare and our dancing...

It took until the last day of lessons for me to finally get up the courage to ask her a question. We'd finished going through all of the dances and everypony was tired from all of the vigorous movement.
She was about to turn and go when I tapped her shoulder, scared that I even did it.
“Yes?”
All of my senses were begging me to just run away as her eyes caught mine again.
“Oh, um, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe... go and get a drink, or something, whatever you want... maybe.” I tailed off and just stared at the floor.

“That would be nice, I'd love to.”

March

I turned nineteen at home, since it was before winter wrap up. I didn't even have a party, just my parents giving me a nice new suitcase. My thoughts during the holidays had been dominated by the beautiful green mare. It turned out that her name was Mossy Landscape, which struck me as an unusual yet flowing name, but she liked to just be called Mossy, which was fine by me.
I didn't dream about her or anything stupid like that, but I did think about her a lot. She was my first love, I suppose, so it wasn't surprising.

Our date – I called it a date, I think she probably just thought it was going out with a friend – had gone okay. Just okay, not great, but not bad. I spent the whole time babbling like an idiot while she sat and listened. I tried asking questions to get her to talk, but she just gave a short answers and went back to asking me about my life. By the time we'd finished our coffee, she knew everything there was to know about me, and she was still a mysterious mare.

Returning to university, I was struck by just how quiet things were. The griffons were still eerily quiet, which was a little unnerving, but I didn't mind. It seemed that another few hundred of young stallions and mares had disappeared into various war roles, and there were barely any of us left, mainly first years. I saw Mossy again briefly, but she seemed busy and never had time to stop and talk, so I went back to watching.

Final exams were announced for the end of June, and suddenly it seemed very close. A lot of work had to be done, so by the time March rumbled to a rather wet close, with April showers and winds threatening, I was snowed under with assignments and papers. Inevitably, maybe, Mossy disappeared to the back of my mind.

June

Ah, June. After a washout in April, and a reasonable May, the weather ponies pulled out all of the stops in June. Sunshine every day with blue skies above – perfect weather for flying. I often flew out of the city, to get away from the dirt and the busy ponies, into the countryside for the day. The grass and flowers reminded me of home and of being younger, a somewhat happier time.

It was on my return from one of these excursions that the worst happened. I divebombed back towards my room, landing a little more heavily than I might have liked, before going straight in to get something to eat. The sun was streaming in through the windows, illuminating the city landscape in a rather nice-looking way. But that was what I stared at as I heard the radio announcement. It was a shame, really, that all bad news came through the radio.

“News has reached us that the griffons are pushing through our lines on the continent. Their aggression is clearly aimed at conquering our proud country, and their lines are heading straight for the sea. Unless we can stop them, we will not be safe for long. Action began at midday today...”

That's where my university career ended, not that I knew it at the time. I always had half a mind to return and finish up where I left off on that sunny June day, just a few days before the examinations began.

Of course, with the griffons attacking us directly, and ponies on the frontline seeing action, there was no reason for me to delay. I was of fighting age, and that was what I had to do. So I went straight back out of my room and headed for the recruitment office of the Royal Pegasus Force.

Perhaps I should make an aside here and explain what the RPF is. The Royal Pegasus Force is the airborne wing of the Armed Forces of the United Queendoms, and consists only of pegasi, plus a few technical boffins who were mainly unicorns, and some engineer earth ponies. The RPF generally did reconnaissance work for the army, flying over enemy positions and that kind of thing. Recently through, there had been murmurs about griffons using their flight skills to do other things, like knocking pegasi out of the sky. Anyway, it was the most exciting branch of the armed forces, by far, especially for pegasi.

The recruitment office was bathed in orange sunshine when I got there, and it looked as if they weren't far from closing. Nopony was inside, except for a bored-looking official who was supposed to supervise.
“Aha! Are you here to sign up?” He asked, shouting in his excitement.
“Erm, yes please.”
“You missed the rush earlier, thanks to this announcement about the griffons attacking. We're pleased to have you on board!” And with that, I was a member of the Royal Pegasus Force. It was exciting.

Well, I actually became a member of the RPF at the induction ceremony a week later. I'd passed the medical and mental exams and packed all of my things, so the induction ceremony was the last thing to do before training camp. I'd said goodbye to my parents, who seemed sad but proud, which was the only way they seemed to be lately. Most importantly, I'd desperately wanted to say goodbye to Mossy, since I'd probably never see her again, but she wasn't in when I knocked on her door. I asked the very few remaining ponies, but none of them knew where she was. So I left the university without seeing her, and from there, I replaced her with a new love.

July

The beginning of July was still very warm and sunny, but it passed in a little bit of a blur. Basic training took a week, a boring muddy week it turned out. It was easy to pass though, so I was quickly sent away to a camp in the middle of nowhere to learn to fly.

I know this sounds strange. I learnt to fly when I was just a tiny pony, little more than a foal actually. But combat flying was totally different to just getting from A to B. And I had to learn this in a few action-packed days. Most of my time was spent flying between posts and turning in tight circles in mid-air. More detailed combat techniques, they said, would be taught at our final training bases. It was supposed to be secret from the new recruits, but everyone knew a simply fact.

There were two arms of the RPF. One was established – fighter ponies. The fastest, most agile ponies were trained to knock griffons cleanly out of the sky using their talents. But there was a new, rumoured arm – bomber ponies. When I was told about it on the first night, I didn't really believe it. But everypony said it was true. An arm of the RPF was made up of the strongest, most resilient ponies who could fly very long distances. They were given high explosives and told to fly into griffon territory, drop the explosives on houses, factories, farms, before flying all the way back. Griffon territory was well over five hundred miles from our forward bases, so only the best were considered.

I tried to join the fighter ponies. At least I knew they existed. I turned and twisted and showed off my agility, then went for speed. I didn't think I did too badly, and they rewarded me. I received a posting to a fighter base in the south of the country, and I rode the train there the very next day.

Only problem was, I met the commander of the base. And he didn't like the look of me.
“What are you? You're no fighter pony.”
“Sorry, sir, they sent me here.”
“No, no, this won't do! You're built like... a truck. We need a sports car. You're nothing like that.”
“I apologise, sir.”
“Why must they keep cursing me with this!”

Now that made me feel bad.
“Oh, it's not you.” He said, laughing a little. “It's those people back at training camp. They need to manage their recruits better. Right, now what to do with you...”
An assistant, or a secretary or something, hurried up beside the commander.
“Okay. You need to get the train to Whinney. There's an airbase there. By the time you arrive, we'll have it sorted.”

So I got another train, this time overnight. I woke up in Whinney and found the airbase. A lot of ponies were suspicious when I asked for directions, like I was a griffon spy, but when I turned up at the entrance, I was welcomed in.
“Welcome... you are Avro?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent! Welcome. You'll fit in perfectly.”
Quite the contrast to the other base.

I found out why I fitted in when I arrive in my bunkhouse. Instead of a group of athletic stallions, with mares billeted somewhere else, I found myself receiving a warm welcome from a group of very large, burly stallions.
“It's always nice to see a new face.”
“I hope you enjoy your time here at Whinney Bomber Base.”

“Wait, bombers?”
“Yes, we're bomber ponies. Didn't you get told at the training camp?”
“No, there was a mix-up...”
“Oh, well we're the bomber ponies. Biggest and best!”
They weren't wrong. I had always been among the largest stallions, but among these ponies, I was only average. They had wingspans big enough to sit two ponies on, and they all looked as tough as nails.

Before I was allowed to do any combat flying, I had to do two things, my new roommates told me. Firstly, I had to learn what I was doing as a bomber pony. And secondly, I had to beef up.

August

On my first night at the base, my stomach churned. I thought that my first combat flight was almost imminent. I was really wrong – it was over a month before I finally flew in anger. I spent two weeks eating raw carrots and exercising, building up my muscles. It didn't take long for me to blend in with the other huge, muscled stallions in the base. There were even a few new arrivals, who were much like I was, and I must have looked impressive to them.

Exercising all day every day in the hot sun was hard work. I did press-ups, crunches, sit ups... anything that would build up muscle. I could lift more and more weight as the days passed.
Once I could hold my own in a hoof wrestle with the more experienced fliers, I began training flights. Apparently the actual missions were easy – carry the explosive, drop it when you're overhead, fly home. And this was what I practiced, lots of dropping dummy bombs on targets thousands of feet below me. I got a little better than my initial terrible aim, but everyone in the bunkhouse told me that nopony was much good at it.

The only problem was, this didn't settle my nerves about combat. Every night when it wasn't too cloudy, ten to fifteen pegasi took off, holding the bright yellow bombs. When they came back, often one of two of them weren't with them. Nopony said a word about it, except occasionally to mourn their passing.

As it turned out, the lead pony on the base who actually flew anywhere was named Starry Night. Now, I'd seen Starry Night before, flying over my parents' house. He was easily the biggest pegasus on base, and he'd already flown twenty five missions. He was the ultimate veteran.
It was him that managed to calm my nerves, in the end.

On the night of my first mission, I was scared. I'd like to say I was brave, and ready to fight for my country, but I was just scared. I picked up my bomb and clutched it tightly to my chest, eyes wide and staring at the sky.
“Hey... Avro?”
I turned, and saw Starry Night standing behind me.
“Oh, good evening sir.” My voice betrayed me as it trembled.
“There's no need to be scared. Simply stay with the formation, and if you get in trouble, come straight back to base. Good pegasi are harder to find than good explosives.”
“Okay... thank you, sir.”
“Good luck, Avro.”

I don't know how he knew my name, but it did the trick. We took off in a huge group, fifteen of us this time, and quickly formed a V-formation, with Starry Night at the head. One of the key things about bombing was that it took place at night, instead of during the day like normal battles. August nights were short, but long enough to still make missions possible, so we were taking off in the dusk.
I was at the back of the V, on the left side. I'd heard horror stories, whispered by other stallions, about rookies (ponies on their first combat flight) being killed within five minutes. Being at the back meant I was responsible for protecting the rear of the formation, and it was a big responsibility.

Normally, griffon attack groups would ambush the formation on the way to the target, which that night was a large industrial city on the outskirts of Griffonry. Thankfully, though, there were no ambushes that night, which kept me safe all the way there.
As we approached the target, which was nothing more than a tiny dark spot on the horizon, I noticed two things.

Firstly, there were a lot more than fifteen of us. I counted ten formations, plus many more following us from behind. There were easily three hundred members of the RPF in the air as we came towards the final approach. Secondly, the griffons on the ground had guns. Big ones, all of which were aimed right at us.

They used extremely bright searchlights to try and pick out the dark outlines of us in the night sky, then shoot at us with fiery bullets. It wasn't until I saw the first few pegasi releasing their bombs that I got my first shock.
As the bombs exploded on the ground, destroying some helpless building, one of the flying white bullets hit a leading pegasus' wing. He burst into flame almost immediately and spiralled towards the ground.

His streaking fire outline struck fear back into my heart. The ponies who hadn't returned to base weren't just missing, they were painfully dead, killed by griffons. Fire or impact would be the cause of death, and neither was pleasant.

As our formation approached the city, it was already burning in the industrial sector. I dropped my bomb, breathing fast and feeling scared, into the heart of the inferno, then picked up speed and followed my formation out. They circled to the right and I followed, relieved that none of the fire had hit me as we'd gone over. The strange thing was, due to the deafening explosions and gunfire, when a pegasus did fall out of the sky like a comet, it was silent.

The way back was uneventful until we reached the coast, where we were jumped by a couple of griffons that had followed us. Starry Night was more than a match as he rolled and pitched, sending them into deep spirals, before pulling away. At least once or twice I thought he'd overdone it, but he always resurfaced and had soon lost them. His brave actions meant that the rest of the formation escaped unharmed, which didn't happen very often.

Landing wasn't particularly interesting. A few tired pegasi got it wrong and damaged their hooves or wings, but they were mainly okay by the next morning. I was okay, if a little shaken by the experience, and once I got into bed, I fell asleep instantly, despite the sun's first rays creeping into the room.