Interlude #5, Part 2: Defender of Harmony
Dear readers:
With this volume’s conclusion comes the time to tell the tale of Windshear’s greatest claim to fame.
As my Captain said in the last chapter, I was present for the action in question, and ’tis certain I will remember it for the rest of my days. The fact that I need not the aid of a unicorn memory recall spell to keep track of the details is indicative enough of the impact it had on me. As such, I will be telling the story from my own perspective.
’Tis a great shame and sorrow that Windshear himself could not write this, but he was never one to boast or brag. Then again, ’tis certain he did not need to. His feats are legend, and through them he bequeaths to all Equestria a legacy that will echo down through the ages. His death only gives truth to an old statement I once read from the lost Princess Luna: “For ’tis only through the lens of history that we achieve immortality. ’Tis but in passing we become legend, a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all.”
Windshear certainly proved this adage, for the tales of his deeds have only grown more mythical long after his ascension to the Summerlands.
Though methinks he did not have as large an impact on my life as Thunderbolt, he was a beloved comrade and commander all the same. ’Tis my hope that I will continue to live up to his always-high expectations; to the examples of duty and honor he set.
—First Lieutenant Fell Flight (Ret.)
Thestral High Emissary
Thestral Conclave, Canterlot
Before telling of the moment itself, I must explain how it came about. It had been two years since my action against the Indala raider group. With Squall Line and those in his camp no longer holding me back, I was rising steadily through the ranks of the Corps, earning respect and accolades at a very rapid rate. At the time in question, I had just made Flight Sergeant, and was named one of our six platoon leaders after aiding in the defeat of a raid on the settlement of Peachtrees, one of three earth pony colonies that Outpost Omega was responsible for protecting.
Then-Sky Sergeant Windshear had been reassigned to Omega after Squall Line’s resignation from the Corps. Under his leadership, we met any and all raider incursions with swift and lethal retribution, oft with him at the forefront.
Despite his superb strength and skill—he once told me that the losses he suffered in his first action had driven him to become the best warrior he could be so he might better protect others—he was not responsible for all the defeats the raiders suffered during this period; I had led several raid responses myself and amassed an impressive killcount for it. ’Twas in fact shortly before this incident began that I found—and subsequently framed on my office wall—the Gryphon missive that bore the message: ‘Beware the cat-eyed mare who sees and slays all!’ ’Tis a point of honor for me to this day that the gryphons learned to respect and fear me in such a short time.
With so many raids thwarted and raiders dead at our hooves, ’twas understandable that we at Omega had become complacent, perchance even arrogant. Since Windshear’s arrival, we’d yet to suffer any truly grievous casualties, and the settlements had lost no civilians to the raiders. All this would change one warm spring day when a very large raider force descended on the settlement of Cloverfield, led by a very noticeable figure at the vanguard…
A figure whose presence suggested that the attack was more than simply another raider action, but an act of open war.
’Twas just after dawn when the alarms sounded at Omega, jolting me out of my sleep.
I had just gone to bed, ending my shift as nighttime watch officer; a post I had volunteered for as it suited my nocturnal preferences well. Once he had been satisfied with my performance, Windshear had granted it quickly, and it then fell to me to direct patrols and the first response to raids in his absence. Such responses typically included me at the vanguard, as my eyes proved an excellent asset at night, turning the gryphons’ greatest advantage against them as I could see in the dark at ranges far exceeding even theirs.
But now they were attacking in broad daylight? To what end, I wondered as I groggily pulled myself up and made for the armory, splashing some water on my face before we got a hasty briefing in the ready room.
’Twas certain the news was not good. A major raid was underway; two of our patrol flights had been taken out and now the colony of Cloverfield was under heavy attack by an alliance of three raider groups, numbering well over two hundred irregular fighters. That they were working together was incredible enough—the different groups typically hated each other as much as they did us, seeing each other as competitors and oft even blood rivals.
But something—or someone—had now united them, and the outnumbered Army company at Cloverfield had gone silent after screaming for help, saying something about being wiped out by an unstoppable force before their communications had gone silent… only to be replaced a minute later by an ominous, mocking tiercel voice telling us in accented Equish that the town was now his and challenging ’The Omega Captain’ to come meet him with his entire force… if he dared.
’Twas an assault as brazen as ’twas brutal, and for the numbers involved would require nearly the entire Omega battalion to counter. Fortunately, we were not without additional resources of our own—a squad from Black Lance Team Two was present at the base, intending to cross the border to spy on a raider summit the EIS claimed would be taking place a few days later. ’Twould seem their information was incorrect, however, as the fact that the three groups were now cooperating indicated they’d already had their meeting and settled their differences, deciding to take vengeance for their losses as one.
Facing two centuries of foes, our work was cut out for us, but ’twas certain we were up to the task. We waited until the entire garrison was assembled and Windshear had spoken privately about tactics with the Lances before taking flight, the Sky Sergeant dispatching two entire companies to the town’s defense whilst leaving our third behind under the command of his second, SFC Gust Front, in case more raids were coming. The Lance squad, whose commander I did not know the name or face of, left in their black bodysuits in a different direction, intending, I thought, to reconnoiter the area and if possible get close enough to slay the raider leaders. I commanded a platoon, and ’twas a mark of Windshear’s growing trust in me that he gave me the lead.
Once in flight, it took but five minutes to arrive and we found a horrific scene. The panicked voice we’d heard from the Cloverfield garrison had not been lying—the base was a smoldering ruin, dead Army troops were lying everywhere and worse, their assailants were now holding hostages both in the air and on the ground, blades held to the throats of civilians and captured soldiers alike, daring us to attack. And at their vanguard…
“Why hello, bat-pony!” a hated voice called out to me in Equish as our groups hovered fifty feet apart, the raiders making clear that any closer would result in hostage deaths and crossbow fire. “’Twould seem the advantage is ours, this time!”
“Mistress Lysandre,” I hissed out through bared teeth as I recognized the Earth Gryphon eagless. Among other things, her Kalos raider group had absorbed the survivors of the Indala group and if possible, she was even more ruthless than he was… and worse, she was smarter. She’d put a substantial bounty on my head that at least two dozen gryphons had already died at my blades attempting to claim—all belonging to rival groups or upstart underlings; the EIS reported she’d used me as a means to cull her competition. “Methinks I’ll take your head for this, you heartless hen!” I promised her in Aeric, to which she just laughed.
“Sorry, bat-pony, but this time, ’tis your head that will roll. But that pleasure will come later. Right now, we are not so interested in you as your coward of a commander. So where is Windshear?” she demanded to know in Equish, one of her underlings holding a blade to a crying filly for emphasis. “Show yourself, you wretched stallion, or she dies!” she shouted into a blue gem she must have stolen from the Army base, her voice booming through the air.
“Enough,” Windshear spoke from behind me, breaking formation to fly to the forefront, bravely hovering before the dozens of crossbows trained on him. “What is the meaning of this attack, Mistress?” he demanded to know, to mocking gryphon laughter that made my jaw clench. Was this but a jest to them?
“The meaning, my dear Sky Sergeant, is revenge! Retribution for two years of defeats and humiliation. It all ends here. We will take both your force and your reputation from you, along with your life!” she promised gleefully.
Methinks I did not know why she was so confident. She’d always been one to use feints and subterfuge instead of attacking directly, and yet… here she now was, risking her death and the destruction of her entire group. Why?
“Do you truly believe that even if you survive this day, you will not face justice?” Windshear asked her, his voice dripping with contempt. “Do you think that even if your grandest designs come to pass, if somehow Omega and my entire force falls, that we will not be avenged? That the Equestrian Armed Forces will not hunt you down to the last fighter even in your own territory?” he asked not just her but them all; yet for some inexplicable reason, they never lost their smirks. “Methinks you have failed to learn the lesson of the Lucavi, Mistress. With this attack, you have sealed your fate!”
“And methinks you know not yet the fate you face, Commander,” she told him in a manner I could only describe as smug. “But perchance our leader will enlighten you…” she looked down as a new figure took flight from the ground, and suddenly much became clear.
’Twas a large earth gryphon, dyed head-to-toe black except for symmetric red stripes along his flanks and wings. His armor was gleaming onyx, and he wielded twin heavy swords, easily double the size of typical Talon scimitars. He was massive and his entire appearance incredibly intimidating, as was the fact that he was effortlessly holding an unconscious Equestrian Army earth pony officer in his grasp. We quickly recognized her as Major Enfilade, commander of the Cloverfield garrison, now stripped of her armor and weapons, bleeding from multiple blade and arrow wounds. And the one who had defeated her and her entire company now hovered before us, wearing not just the garb of an elite warrior, but a look of unbridled glee and outright bloodlust…
A Red Talon! We had heard about them, of course, even seen them at parleys, and their reputation was said to be well-earned. But though their exploits in the Gryphon War against the Elder Rams were legend, they had never been seen to engage in combat with ponies, and certainly not on behalf of three raider groups!
“Greetings, Sky Sergeant,” he called to Windshear in only moderately accented Equish, holding a bloodstained blade in one set of talons and Enfilade by the withers in the other, his claws dug into the sides of her neck as he gave his counterpart a mocking salute with his sword. “I would say this is a pleasure, but in truth, you disappoint me. I was expecting a more rapid response than this. Instead, you forced me to amuse myself by slaughtering all these so-called soldiers like swine,” he told us all, glancing down at the carnage below, the remains of an entire Equestrian Army company he’d single-hoofedly decimated; at least a platoon of earth pony and unicorn soldiers alike lying dead on the ground beneath us.
If Windshear was perturbed, he hid it well. “So you are responsible for this, Talaeus?” he asked, using the gryphon word for them. “As a soldier in service to the Empire, your presence here makes this attack an act of war!”
“I sincerely hope so,” he smirked, his blue eyes glittering against the black backdrop of his face. “For I would hate to be sent home without having been able to fight in one. ’Tis certain that war between our races is inevitable, pegasus. So, I’m simply speeding it up to ensure my own participation,” he said without a hint of remorse or doubt, and for the first time, I felt my guts clench, wondering what kind of monster we were up against.
’Twas a testament to how unsettled he was that I noticed the flash pass through Windshear’s eyes. “And who are you that wouldst so casually desire war?”
“Ah, my apologies. How impolite of me! ’Tis true I’ve yet to introduce myself…” The tiercel gave a short, mocking bow, his claws never losing their grip on the Major’s neck. “Greetings, forces of Outpost Omega. I am First Spear Miyal Calea of the Talaeus, or Red Talons as you call us. As for why I am here in particular?” He shrugged, then glared. “’Tis a personal matter to me, Commander. I’ve been… shall we say, sponsoring these three groups of raiders, offering them training and weapons, as well as convincing the Office of Owls to fund their efforts to harass Omega and destabilize the border.
“’Twas my hope that if their raids inflicted enough death and damage, ’twould be enough to bring about war… or at least teach you ponies a badly-needed lesson in humility.” His eyes narrowed. “Unfortunately, for all my efforts, you and your soldiers always stood poised to thwart them, time and again. But I suppose the old adage is true: if you wish something done right, you must do it yourself. So I will simply slay you as I did your Army companions, and then lay waste to this village as well!” He licked the blood off his blade for emphasis, causing all of us to recoil.
“Are you quite through?” Windshear asked contemptuously, growing more disgusted the more he heard.
“’Tis impolite to interrupt a guest, commander. Particularly one who has been rehearsing his speech for weeks!” he all but sneered. “For two years, you have thwarted my charges; for two years you have humiliated them, turning them against one another. And as their trainer and patron, the dishonor of their defeats… falls on me!” He brandished his oversized sword again, pointing it at Windshear. “No longer will I allow this, or wait for war to come! No longer will you and your soldiers be a stain on my honor, for I shall slay you and them here and now! And when war results, I shall be at the vanguard where I belong, leading our legions and crushing your feeble forces! Such will be my redemption… in your defeat!” He announced to raucous cheers.
“You’re insane…” I hissed, to which he turned to me.
“Two words for an ambition that will never be understood by lesser leaf-eaters like yourself!” he all but sneered out the words. “But by all means, bat-pony—challenge me! As ’twould seem you are a meat-eater like us and one of Omega’s finest soldiers, I will accord you some honor and grant you the chance to defeat me in single combat,” he invited. “These earth ponies and unicorns were no match for me, but I hunger for pegasus blood above all. I know not how a thestral halfling will taste, but I look forward to finding out! Myself and my mistresses will toast your defeat with your bat-pony blood and eat well off your well-cooked corpse!” He grinned, goading me further.
I lowered my head and pinned him with my predatory eyes. “’Twould be my greatest pleasure to geld you, you mass-murdering monster!” Seeing red, I immediately flew forward, only to be quickly blocked by Windshear.
“Stay back, Flight Sergeant,” he told me through gritted teeth. “Check your temper and see to our forces. I leave you in command,” he told me to my surprise, tossing me his red command gem. “When the time comes, lead the attack to wipe out this raider trash. I know you can. Until then, nopony challenges him but me.”
We all stared at him in shock as Calea gave a very pleased look. “But sir…!” I protested, having no idea what time he was referring to or what our absent Lance allies were planning. And what could but a squad of them do anyway? “You should not be…”
He knew I was trying to say that a stallion shouldn’t be risking himself like this, and cut me off hard. “I said stay back!” he all but snarled at me, his own emotions looking barely under control as he turned to face the Talaeus warrior. “You violate the border, take innocents hostage, slaughter the soldiers that defended them, and advocate open war all whilst speaking to us of honor?” Methinks I had never seen Windshear so angry. “You are an abomination, Talaeus, even by the standards of your own side!”
“Abomination, you say?” He all but cackled. “Methinks the true abomination is that you and your kind hold dominion over the very skies! That we suffer your presence and continue to wait for war! That in doing so we offer your plant-eating ilk even a pretense of respect or honor! That I am being recalled for the simple crime of advocating an immediate invasion!” His eyes went angry for a moment before he smiled again. “But I care not, for after this, it won’t matter! When I kill you and take your base, war will result and I will become the most famous warrior in the Empire! I will lead our glorious campaign to the very steps of Canterlot Castle, where I will slay your precious princess myself!” he announced, causing shouts of outrage from the mares I now led.
For his part, Windshear just sneered. “If you think any of that will come to pass, then you truly are a foal! You think this is a game?” Windshear’s ire was cold and real. “You think any of this will end well, Talaeus? Or are you so far gone you think being a warrior is about nothing but blood and conquest?” He flew forth to face him.
“Oh, by all means, educate me, my little pony. Tell me, what is being a warrior about?” the black-dyed gryphon invited in a manner suggesting he sought some amusement in the answer. “But do keep your explanation short. The sooner I slay you and your soldiers, the sooner I can return triumphant and relax whilst I wait for the war to begin. And methinks I’d hate for a hatchling friend of mine to miss another visit from me!”
’Twas only much later I knew what he referred to, but even then ’twas certain to me that he was anything but friend to said hatchling.
No doubt the same thoughts were going through Windshear’s mind at that moment. “Very well, Talaeus. I’ll humor you. First and foremost, ’tis not about oneself!” the Sky Sergeant began after a brief pause; I realized only later he was playing for time to allow the Lances to put whatever plan he’d made with them into motion. “’Tis not about death or glory but about putting other lives above your own. ’Tis about service. ’Tis about duty. ’Tis about the honor that can only come from fighting for others and being willing to sacrifice oneself for them!” He told not just him, but us all, the rest of us taking strength from his words, ones he drummed into us over and over during the past two years. “’Tis about selflessness, not selfishness, which is all I see from you!” He pointed an accusing hoof at the black-and-red warrior.
“Weak words from a weak race,” Calea sneered as his raider allies laughed, their attention now fully on Windshear. “A warrior’s honor comes from the blood he has spilled. From the long list of kills he has made. For the battles he has won! For the glory he has gained! For the very praises sung in his name!” He proclaimed loudly as he ran Enfilade through with his sword for emphasis and then held her slain body to the sky as if in offering, basking in adulation as the raiders began chanting his name. “But perchance I expect too much from you and your worthless soldiers, Sky Sergeant. For what would a society of leaf-eaters know of such things?” He finished as he simply threw the Major’s body aside, letting it fall to the ground.
Discipline held as we witnessed the callous murder, but just barely; rage and bloodlust rising all around me. “You’re dead, Calea! I’ll rip your throat out with my fangs!” I shouted as I bared mine, showing slightly pointed teeth; strangely, the more meat I’d eaten over the years, the more carnivorous my incisors had become.
“Not bad, bat-pony. ’Tis a pity there are not more like you,” he smirked, giving me a half-salute. “With such fine teeth and intimidating eyes, methinks you wouldst almost make a good gryphon.”
“The only good gryphon is a dead one!” I immediately retaliated amid angry agreement from the two companies I now commanded, not knowing that I would one day regret those words. “By Celestia’s sun and the Mare in the Moon, we’ll kill all of you before this day is done!” I swore, to nods and shouts of agreement from my comrades.
“Stand down, Flight Sergeant,” Windshear ordered me again, leaving me amazed he could be so calm, his eyes fixed on the Talaeus before him, ignoring the raiders flanking him. “Stand down, all of you! I said it before, and I’ll say it again: The only one who faces him… is me.”
“Bold words, commander,” Calea smirked as a dozen more gryphons suddenly rose into the sky around him, wearing the garb of various raider groups with the curious addition of a black armband. “If you wish a challenge, I advise caution. A Talaeus is a living weapon, able to kill at will. ’Tis certain you have no more chance against me than those Army weaklings below. If you are to defeat me, ’twould be far better to attack me with your entire force. ‘Twill not avail you, of course, but at least then you may see what heights a warrior of my skill may attain!”
Windshear fell silent at that, closing his eyes for a moment as if in deep regret. “Methinks I’ve already known one living weapon,” he replied quietly in what I only realized much later was an oblique reference to Thunderbolt. His gaze then shifted, suddenly falling on the increased raider numbers, looking strangely satisfied for it. “And ’tis certain he would have slain you easily. I may take a bit longer, but be assured you are as dead as your underlings are,” he replied most matter-of-factly, then raised his voice. “Heed my words and heed them well! Once your airborne hostages are freed, my soldiers will attack! And I will personally ensure you cannot target them or rally your forces!” He seemed to be addressing not just Calea but all of us. “For the blood you have spilled and the lives you have taken… your head is mine, Talaeus!”
Calea’s eyes narrowed. Perchance he sensed some form of subterfuge at play, but at the moment none of us knew what—save for twelve armband-wearing gryphons now mixed amongst the airborne raider century, edging closer to the dozen hostages they held. “Freeing our captives will be a tall order, Sky Sergeant. Methinks you are engaging in some very wishful thinking,” the Talaeus smirked, perchance deciding Windshear was bluffing.
Windshear actually grinned as he pulled out his blue command gem. “And methinks you wouldst do well to remember the old adage to keep your friends close… and your enemies closer! Lances! NOW!” he shouted into the gem, and suddenly the dozen gryphons wearing black armbands turned blades and crossbows on their erstwhile comrades, targeting those who held hostages. Darts, bolts, and blades lashed out with blinding speed, spearing heads and slashing throats, killing nearly twenty raiders in just two seconds followed by swoops to grab the dropped ponies and deliver them to safety. Chaos and carnage immediately erupted in the raider ranks as suddenly they didn’t know who to trust, turning their weapons on each other.
’Twas only at that moment I realized that Windshear had been subtly giving the Lances orders, though I had no idea what magic was at play that allowed them to take the form of our enemies! “Omega! The black-armed birds are Black Lances! Spare them but slay the rest! ATTACK!” Windshear shouted into his blue gem, and we needed little encouragement after that, plunging immediately into the fight as Windshear charged a shocked Calea, taking advantage of his sudden distraction to strike, aiming a wingblade at his head.
With Windshear’s order, all Tartarus broke loose and the battle for Cloverfield began in earnest.
I swooped and slashed, shouting orders and leading my forces into the fray, using my two companies to crush the rapidly dwindling airborne century of raiders before sending all but a single platoon to the relief of the town and Army remnants below. Soldier for soldier the raiders were no match for our veteran warriors, for our training or teamwork, though that did not mean we took no casualties; nearly thirty would fall in the air above Cloverfield before all was said and done.
The Lances returned to the fray as soon as they’d gotten their rescued ponies to safety, and ’twas an odd feeling indeed finding myself fighting back to back with a gryphon, even if she was a transformed Black Lance—I do not know this for certain, but given her commanding manner, she might well have been your mother, Captain! She and her comrades were clearly familiar with their gryphon forms as they fought well with sword and talons, aiming their crossbows with uncanny accuracy and adding thrown blades into the mix. With their help, within minutes we had decimated the raider ranks, caught by surprise as they were. Few of the raiders actually spoke Equish so they didn’t understand Windshear’s warning about the black-marked raiders, giving us precious seconds to strike whist they tried to figure it out for themselves… or waited for those who did hear the warning to tell them.
And yet, the air battle that erupted was unimportant compared to the one raging below me, and one I only saw bits and pieces of to start. Though caught by surprise, Calea was the equal to Windshear’s initial attack, getting his heavy sword up in time to parry Windshear’s wingblade. Despite the fact he was an Earth Gryphon, he clearly knew how to fly and fight in the air, as he was giving a hard-pressed Windshear all he could deal with and more.
But Windshear was no desk officer and ’tis certain a stallion doesn’t rise to command a border outpost, especially one as dangerous as Omega unless he has proven himself repeatedly to be a very good leader and warrior. With nearly fifteen years of experience and countless engagements under his wings, he’d never been shy about mixing it up with raiders before, winning all his fights easily and the few times I’d sparred with him ended in my defeat—he was simply far too strong and swift for me; even more so than Thunderbolt had been, and I immensely admired him for it. But was even he good enough to take down a Red Talon…?
The answer would not be known immediately. The air battle was won relatively quickly, as it turned out, the remaining raiders retreating to the ground after losing more than half their force. They fell back on their other comrades in the town who were now hard-pressed by my pursuing soldiers, sandwiched between them and the ragged remains of the Army troops. Now fighting from cover and using townsponies and captured soldiers as living shields, the battle became far more difficult; so I ordered a halt to the attack until the contest between Windshear and Calea was decided, hoping the latter’s defeat might induce a surrender. ’Twas quite clear they were trying to hold out long enough for Calea to kill Windshear and then turn the tide of battle for them, and cowardly though it may have been, ’twas no doubt they had the right idea.
For although Windshear slaying Calea would secure our victory, Calea slaying Windshear threw it into severe doubt. As the fight wore on, the Talaeus was proving every bit the elite warrior he'd been bragging; ’twas only as I saw the battle unfold that I understood how good the Red Talon truly was and how fortunate I was to not have engaged him. His strength was horrific; his swords and armor deflected most of Windshear’s blows whilst he wielded his large blades with chilling ease, whipping them around with blinding speed that several times just missed Windshear’s body or head, wingblades and swords sparking with each new limb-jarring collision. ’Twas only the commander’s superior speed and increasingly damaged wingblades that saved him, but we could see that injuries were starting to accumulate on him by the red stains against his sky blue uniform. Worse, they’d already been fighting for nearly five minutes; how long could he keep it up before his stamina ran out?
And yet, for all of Windshear’s wounds, the Talaeus was increasingly battered and bleeding too. I could see the glistening of his blood against the backdrop of his black fur and feathers, the growing number of chinks and cracks in his armor. Tellingly, he was no longer shouting insults but fighting with everything he had, stunned by the resistance he was encountering; strength and skill far beyond anything he thought a pegasus could possess.
’Twas agony being a bystander to that battle, but ’twas little we could do. The commander had ordered us not to help him, and as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t even sure we could. I knew as I watched with a platoon from fifty yards away that I couldn’t take his opponent; even wounded he was simply too good. Could even all of us together take him? Could the Lances…?
’Twas a question, to my great relief, we would never know the answer to as Windshear parried and knocked free one of his opponent’s swords, sending it spiraling to the ground, only to receive a curled fist to the stomach in a painful blow which lifted him up and quickly turned into talons raking his midsection right through his uniform. It staggered him for a moment and his opponent moved in for the kill, bringing his second sword down in an overhoof strike with both sets of talons.
Windshear just managed to get a wing up to block it, but the impact shattered his wingblade, pieces of it raining to the ground. Pressing his advantage, Calea made a wild and overconfident swing which Windshear had to roll hard to intercept with his other wing, allowing the strike to knock him earthward. He then dove hard for the deck, buying himself time to release and abandon the harness as the intact blade would unbalance him, causing my guts to clench as I realized he now intended to fight his armed and armored opponent with his hooves alone.
His weapons sacrificed in the final parry, he swooped back up and around, forcing Calea to twist to face him, dodging one more swing before racing in to tackle his opponent in midair. He pinned the Red Talon’s wings as they suddenly plunged towards the ground locked in an airborne grappling match, each trying to twist enough to make sure the other hit first. In the end, neither quite succeeded as they smashed through the damaged roof of a building as one; we didn’t know what was happening inside until there were a series of crashing sounds, dust and cracks appearing on the outside walls from inside impacts, and then the Talaeus was suddenly slammed headfirst through an intact second-floor window, thrown bodily down to the plaza below.
And yet, despite his bloodied face and clearly broken wing, despite having lost his second sword somewhere inside, Calea still didn’t give up, screaming he would not fall to a weakling pony as he went for his armor and pulled out throwing blades a split second before launching them at Windshear, who only managed to dodge one as he tackled him again, the second impaling his shoulder, disabling his wing.
With the fight far past the realm of technique or tactics, the battle between the pair had devolved into a simple contest of strength and will between the commander and his elite gryphon opponent. They pummeled each other with hooves and talons, brawling with abandon, the earth gryphon’s skill, strength and savagery matched by Windshear’s raw toughness, experience, and sheer determination. He took blow after blow but simply would not go down despite his lengthening list of wounds, the innumerable bruises, the talon slash marks on his face and belly or the knife blade still stuck in his side. He gave as good as he got, knocking off his opponent’s helmet with one solid hoofstriker hit and then stunning the Talaeus with a hard headbutt that staggered him—I’d experienced it myself once in a training spar and knew how much it hurt—following it up with an unblocked uppercut to the bottom of his beak.
Calea was now reeling, one of his eyes swollen shut and swinging increasingly wildly with his bare talons and final backup blade, screaming bloody murder as the battle turned on him. But Windshear countered with his own blade, a knife he’d received from another of his herdmates that previously belonged to the PSD, scoring hits on his opponent’s arm and face.
With our Red Talon foe now severely weakened, I was feeling far more confident about intervening, but one of the Lances-turned-Gryphons stopped me with talons grasping my foreleg; methinks ’twas all I could do not to slash at it! “’Tis his fight, Flight Sergeant,” she told me as her transformation lapsed and she returned to pony form before my eyes, quickly covering her head with a black hood—whatever magic they were using to become gryphons clearly didn’t last long! “Let him finish it.”
So we did. The Talaeus tried one final trick, resorting to explosive gems, but Windshear batted them aside with a gust of wind from his good wing, sending them flying off whilst he leapt for cover in the other direction. ’Twas not enough to keep him from taking fragments when they detonated, however, staggering him. Sensing weakness, the Red Talon leapt hard at him, shrieking and intending to strike the finishing blow with his blade whilst his opponent was vulnerable, only to be met with a cloud of dust another wingbeat had kicked up. It momentarily blinded him, allowing the Sky Sergeant to escape as the Talaeus’ vision suffered and his talons found only air.
As the dust settled and both fighters pulled themselves up, it became apparent from his ragged breathing and trembling body that Windshear was at the end of his endurance and his enemy was little better; as they circled on the ground for a final exchange, we all sensed that the ending of the fight was nigh. And if Windshear fell, I made up my mind that I was going to swoop in and decapitate the crippled Talaeus, then order my forces to hunt down and kill every single raider in Cloverfield, saving Mistress Lysandre for myself.
The ending came quickly after a fight that seemed to go on forever, one that methinks had taken both combatants to their very limits and beyond. In one final show of strength, the Talaeus ripped a firegem-lit metal lamppost out of the ground and began swinging it as a bludgeon, astonishing me yet again that he could still be so strong after having suffered so much damage.
But Windshear dodged the clumsy swings once, twice, and then on the third attack charged in hard, knife in mouth before the Talaeus could reset his stance. The latter tried to counter with his own blade but his speed was spent and the Sky Sergeant was on him too quickly, a flying tackle driving his gryphon opponent to the ground in a body slam that methinks would have done even Thunderbolt proud. His knife flashed and a spray of blood was seen as the Talaeus drove his own blade and talons into Windshear’s sides. There was a sickening snap followed by a pained cry from Windshear, and methinks for a moment I was certain they’d killed each other. But suddenly the Talaeus’ entire body went slack as a pool of blood appeared beneath him, the knife falling limply from his hooves.
’Twas over. Windshear rolled off his vanquished opponent, his blade still embedded in Calea’s throat, whose lifeless eyes looked up, his face frozen in an expression of agony and disbelief. The Sky Sergeant’s right foreleg was lying at an awkward angle, Calea’s talons having snapped it, and ’twas clear he was in very bad shape himself.
But he was still the victor of the fight in an act of heroism and sheer determination methinks I’ve never seen before or since. His strategy had worked; we’d been able to save the hostages and rout the raiders with the help of the Lances whilst he kept the Talaeus busy, unable to intervene. His eyes focused just long enough to see me and the rest of the platoon staring at him in awe. “What are you looking at…?” was all he managed before he coughed up blood. “Finish… them… off!” he ordered us through heaving pants, pointing with his good hoof towards the remaining raiders…
And then he passed out where he lay.
* * * * *
Methinks the rest of the battle was anticlimactic after that.
After seeing their patron and champion fall, most of the remaining raiders surrendered or fled to be chased down by our patrols. Perchance thirty or so made it back to Imperial lands, including, unfortunately, the bulk of their leadership, among them being Mistress Lysandre to my great disgust. A few fought on and had to be rooted out, and it fell to the Lances to free their remaining hostages with more conventional means, leaving us in awe of their abilities. I supervised the mop-up operations and called in reinforcements from Gamma and the other two army bases, making sure that Windshear was attended to quickly.
His wounds were severe; to this day methinks I have no idea how he was still able to fight through his pain and numerous injuries. But he had not only fought, he had won against the greatest of foes, his cunning, courage and combat prowess saving an entire village if not his very command. For had Calea lived… ’tis certain that at a minimum he would have slain many of us, and even if he had been somehow driven off, ’tis likely he would have gotten his wish—war with Equestria.
Which ’twas not to say it did not seem certain anyway at that moment in time.
’Twas but a day later when the Gryphons requested parley.
With nearly one hundred fifty dead at Cloverfield, including heavy casualties amongst civilians and the Army troops defending them, we were already planning a large-scale counterstrike against the raider bases. Perchance ’twas memories of what happened after the IS-2 massacre that spurred them, wishing to forestall a repeat of the Phoenix Fire operation, or perchance they were afraid the beginnings of their war preparations would be unmasked were we to invade again. But whatever the reason, the Gryphon leadership requested a meeting and Windshear’s presence specifically, saying they wished to ‘offer satisfaction’ for the attack—rare words from the Imperial military, and ones that got our immediate attention, for it meant that they were not denying the raid had occurred. Then again, how could they?
Despite his many wounds, Windshear pulled himself out of the infirmary and made the trip. After being helped onto and off the transport, he slept the night under the care of Gamma healers, who got him well enough to attend. Though still nursing his numerous injuries, he rose at first light and donned his uniform and wingblades, determined to fly out to the mesa under his own power and show no weakness to the gryphons.
’Twas a tall order indeed, but to his immense credit, he did so. I joined him for the trip at his request, since the Calea-led attack had specifically targeted me as well, leaving Omega under the command of Gust Front. ’Twas the only parley I ever attended before the war, in fact, and one that, as it did for my future Captain, made me appreciate the differences between raiders and gryphon regulars.
We assembled as the Captain has previously described, a ‘century’ of mixed troops per side representing all service branches with the addition of several large air carriages landing on the gryphon half of the mesa, the parley commencing with a ritualized show of force including threats of attack. The latter were all the more dangerous given the tension between our two sides; ’twould not have surprised me if an arrow had been unleashed and battle started for it. Not that I would have minded; my fighting blood was still up and I would have loved the chance to test my mettle against well-trained Knights and Talons instead of the usual raider rabble.
On that score, I would be disappointed. After the pre-parley meeting ritual was complete, the then-commander of gryphon border forces, Sub-Consul Larsa, marched forward to meet us. She was flanked by three more Red Talons, which ’tis certain did give me some pause. Windshear had barely beaten one, but to face three…
Despite my misgivings, as instructed, I moved up with Windshear and a single Guardspony stallion to be the matching three to our own leader, Captain Arcus, then-commander of the 5th Division. A brief stare-down ensued, which I met with my thestral eyes, and was rewarded with a startled flinch from Larsa herself. “Good Morning, Captain,” she called to Arcus after our blades were sheathed again, offering a salute in the gryphon manner by thumping her curled talons of her right hoof against her upper left chest.
I had never seen that form of salute before, but didn’t give it much thought as our stallion division commander gave her a perfunctory one back. He then pulled free one of Calea’s Red Talon scimitars from its scabbard and stabbed it hard into the ground before her, dropping his helmet at her talons. “Spare us the small talk, sub-Consul. I have a raided village and over one hundred forty dead in an attack commanded by one of your own elite soldiers. His presence makes this an act of war, and you may expect us to respond accordingly. So if you have something to say, say it.”
“As you wish.” Arcus nodded gravely, then unrolled a scroll. “We acknowledge the raider attack on your colony, and the fact that a Talaeus led it. We do not deny it happened, but we do deny that this attack was sanctioned by anyone in the Imperial military or government.”
“A likely story!” I all but sneered, causing the four gryphons to glance at me. ’Twas out of turn, but I cared not, even as Arcus turned to glare me silent.
“Believe what you wish, bat-pony. But the truth is that First Spear Miyal Calea acted against orders.” Larsa showed us the scroll, upon which was written some very ornate Aeric and signed with the seal we recognized as belonging to the Gryphon Empress herself. “You may have your EIS confirm this if you wish, but before the incident occurred, the First Spear was being recalled to face the Empress for dishonorable warrior conduct; for repeated acts of insubordination and breaking the code of the Talaeus. At a minimum, he was going to be stripped of his rank and title, and had he survived the attack, ’tis certain he would have been executed for treason. ’Twould seem he had been training the groups on his own time in an effort to bring about war, and in the process availing himself of their eaglesses and ill-gotten gains.”
“And you didn’t know about it?” Arcus was unimpressed, though I noted to myself that her story did match up with what Calea had said. “One of your finest warriors assisting raider rabble, and you were completely unaware?” He stomped his hoof in anger.
Larsa, however, was unperturbed. “Talaeus are typically given far greater latitude in their personal lives than regular soldiers. ’Twas severely abused here, and we offer our apologies for it,” she answered carefully, then tossed a gem on the ground, which turned into several chests of coins and gems as well as a second scroll, bearing writing in Equish and Aeric. “We acknowledge our fault in this matter, and to that end, we offer this restitution for the families of the victims and a formal ceding to Equestria of the disputed territories around Omega… if you will swear not to invade gryphon territory as you did to hunt down the Lucavi some years ago.” She arched her eyeridge at us. “I strongly suggest you take this offer as I am not Legate Ampok. Be assured, Captain, that should you seek revenge against the raiders responsible, we will defend our lands.”
I found the attempt at a bribe insulting, as did Captain Arcus. “’Tis not my decision to make, Sub-Consul. And mere money does not bring back the lives lost amongst our civilians, Army or Corps. So you may be assured that we will make your raider groups pay a heavy price for this action, even if we have to go through your Talon legions to do it!” He deployed his wingblades for emphasis, and ’twas no idle threat—orders had already been issued to stage additional Corps and Army units into the area; within a week we would have the entire border reinforced and over twelve thousand troops ready to invade—more than enough to overmatch the two Talon legions in the area plus whatever remained of the three raider groups.
Talons moved towards blades in response as the two commanders stared each other down; for a moment I thought war was going to break out right then and there. But to my surprise, the sub-Consul relented, nodding in something almost akin to approval. “I would expect no less. Very well, Captain. Since you demand satisfaction… we will give it to you,” she nodded behind her, at which point the doors to the large air carriages they brought were opened and their passengers yanked out.
As we watched, nearly forty manacled gryphons were pulled free, none happily as they were dragged forward by grey-dyed captors, some of their prisoners snarling threats and others making tearful pleas. By the garb and coat markings, they belonged to the three raider groups that had participated in the attack, and when they were brought closer, I was stunned to recognize Mistress Lysandre and the other two raider group leaders!
Larsa waited until they’d been brought forward and thrown in the dirt before us before speaking again. “Captain, may I present to you Master Guzma and Mistresses Lysandre and Evice, leaders of the Alola, Kalos, and Sypher groups, together with their seconds and high-ranking officers,” the gryphon commander said mildly as the prisoners were forced to their knees, many bearing wounds from either the attack on our colony or simply resisting capture. “And I do hope you appreciate the effort it took for our Raven friends to find them and bring them here in a single night,” she added without any hint of humor, glancing back at the grey-dyed Ravens whose faces were hidden by scarves and goggles as they held blades to their captives’ throats. Their appearance was a surprise; we knew them to be the pet hunters and assassins of their Office of Owls, rarely-seen warriors of shadow the equals of our Lances and nearly as dangerous as the Red Talons that faced us.
“Methinks I’m confused. Are you giving them to us?” Arcus was genuinely surprised and I was no less. The gryphons were always insistent on dealing with their own subjects themselves, demanding return of prisoners and refusing to turn over raiders to us even when we proved their crimes.
As it turned out, such was the case here as well. “No.” For her part, Larsa did not look directly at her captives, which I later learned meant she considered them beneath her. “They are gryphons, and thus this is a gryphon matter. As we do not wish war or to suffer another incursion, this time, we will do the job for you. As they have violated the border, spilled Equestrian blood and threatened the peace for petty greed and misbegotten pursuit of vengeance, ’tis been decided they are now a liability best expunged.” She raised her taloned hoof high, as if preparing to give a signal. “They have been tried and found guilty of treason, and their sentence… will now be carried out.”
With that, she made a downward slashing motion with her talons and the Ravens slit the throats of their prisoners, executing them all on the spot, their blood staining the sand in front of them. A few soldiers behind me went sick to their stomachs; even I was perturbed by what I saw. I might have liked to slay Mistress Lysandre myself, but somehow, there was no satisfaction in seeing her die so ignominiously here.
Larsa waited nearly twenty seconds before speaking again, perchance to make sure all her captives had died first. “There is now no vengeance for you to take, Captain. Their leadership is destroyed and to little surprise, once we captured their commanders, the remainder of their rank-and-file fled, scattering to the winds. Their groups are now disbanded, so if you still choose to invade, you will find nothing except my legions to meet you, and an attack will result in open war,” she warned us, her eagle eyes narrowing. “We do not wish this, but if you force it upon us, you will find us more than willing to fight. So in the interests of peace, I once again offer our regrets and restitution. And I strongly suggest you take it,” this time she lowered her head in warning.
“I… will convey your offer,” Arcus answered carefully, stunned by what he’d just seen. I was hardly squeamish about such matters myself, but could still hardly believe it. Did they fear war with us that much? Or was there some other reason they didn’t want to fight? “Is that all, then?”
“Not quite,” she replied, then turned to Windshear. “’Twould seem our Talaeus have something to say.” She stepped back as a single menacing Red Talon warrior stepped forward to approach Windshear, stopping halfway to him by Calea’s fallen helmet and scimitar. Recognizing the invitation, Windshear stepped forth himself to go eye to eye with the gryphon, who drew his sword and was met with wingblade deployment. I was ready to leap forth to defend him, knowing he was in no shape for another fight, but Arcus’ raised hoof stayed me.
And indeed, ’twould seem the Red Talon in question was only testing Windshear’s nerve and spirit, as he did nothing more than try to stare him down.
“So are you going to challenge me or just glare at me, Centurion?” Windshear finally asked the dangerous-looking sky gryphon tiercel, far sleeker yet somehow seeming every bit as strong as Calea had been. “If you wish to avenge your comrade, then ’twould be best to strike now, whilst I’m still weak from my wounds,” he told the gryphon, who stared at him a moment longer but then stepped back.
“No,” the tiercel replied in excellent Equish. “’Tis no honor in dueling a weakened opponent. But be assured we will seek vengeance someday, Sky Sergeant Windshear of Cloudsdale,” he promised. “Miyal Calea deserved dishonor and death, but he was still a Talaeus. You have given the Red Talon name a stain, one that must be expunged. When the time is right, we will seek your defeat.”
Far from intimidated, Windshear answered attitude for attitude. “If you do, then face me as a warrior, one on one. No hostages. No threats to settlements or subordinates. Show me the honor your brute of a comrade lacked, and I will grant you the chance… Centurion Layan Kaval of Loondon.” We knew his name and home because we’d been briefed on likely participants in the parley, which included the recently-arrived and ranking Red Talon on the Equestrian continent.
“Be assured that I am not Miyal Calea, either in attitude or ability,” Kaval replied in an air that was somehow anything but arrogant, as if he was making a simple statement of fact. “Know that you have gained our respect as well as our ire, Sky Sergeant. I give you my word that when the time comes, we will seek a proper challenge and not endanger innocents.”
“I will hold you to that. In the meantime, you can take this trash back with you.” Windshear motioned to Calea’s armor and weapons.
“Keep them,” the Red Talon invited. “They are yours now. It is our way. To defeat a Talaeus is to become one. To gain the rights to his armor and weapons,” he explained, and then stepped back and saluted Windshear with his drawn sword, cueing his comrades to do the same. “We recognize you as an elite warrior and a Red Talon peer—Sky Sergeant Windshear!”
His right foreleg still bound, Windshear returned the salute crisply with his wing. Once he had done so, the Red Talons sheathed their swords and stepped back whilst the Sub-Consul stepped forward, causing Arcus to do the same. “Our business is concluded, Captain,” the former told the latter. “And for all our sakes, I hope once again that you do not choose war…”
I didn’t see how we could at that point, and indeed, we did not, conveying formal acceptance of the Imperial offer at a second parley the following week.
I did not stay to see it. I returned to Omega the next morning, leaving Windshear behind under the care of Army and Corps healers so he could mend fully. In the end, he spent a week there and then another two weeks leave with his herd, and none would say that he had not earned the right.
Gust Front ran a reinforced Omega in his absence, though with the destruction of the three area raider groups, the frontier fell quiet. Soldiers of both sides patrolled the border canyon in sight of each other, but there were no incidents; over time tensions subsided and the extra troops went home.
Cloverfield was almost entirely rebuilt by the time Windshear returned to Omega fully healed. We gave him a hero’s welcome, but our celebration was tempered by an announcement—after convalescing and talking it over with his herd, he was leaving Omega and transferring to the Royal Guard, intending to become a trainer for them as he had once been for the Corps.
He said he was doing so for two reasons: one, he wished to train the next generation of stallion warriors, and two, he feared his continued presence on the frontier was an open invite to Talaeus challenges or raider remnants seeking revenge. In the end, he’d had enough combat and close calls to realize that ’twas time for him to seek safer postings that would keep him out of action and closer to his herd; closer to the mares and foals he loved.
Though sorry to see him leave, we held a farewell-to-arms party for him, one even the new Army regiment that garrisoned the three colonies participated in—one consequence of the attack was an increase in the army garrison at each colony from company to battalion size. And on the day of his departure, Princess Celestia herself appeared to oversee the change of command ceremony, held in Cloverfield so the Army troops and the townsponies Windshear saved could watch as well. We had known she was coming, anticipating a speech, and indeed, she gave a moving one. ’Tis certain we did not, however, anticipate the honor she was to bestow on him that day.
“Sky Sergeant Windshear,” she addressed him at the end of the ceremony. “Your deeds are incredible, your will indomitable and your devotion to duty an inspiration to all. You have shown by example that the truest essence of a warrior is to serve and protect others, willing to lay down your life for them even facing the most formidable and terrible of foes. You are a hero in every sense of the word, and for it, you have earned the greatest of all accolades,” she paused as she materialized a small box and he bowed before her.
“For service to Equestria above and beyond the call of duty, for acts of utmost valor, for showing the greatest of skill and gallantry in defeating an elite enemy warrior, and above all else for saving an entire village and sustaining severe wounds doing so, you are now and forever a Knight of Equestria… and a Defender of Harmony!” she said in a loud and fervent voice, tapping the tip of her large wing to his shoulders whilst opening the box to place the blue-ribboned medal inside it around his neck, a large gold medallion embedded in a diamond bearing the symbol of the sun and moon.
Our collective jaws fell open at the sight. We had expected him to be awarded the Sapphire Sentinel, but the Defender of Harmony? She had not only Knighted him; she’d just given him the highest Equestrian military award there was! But none could say he did not deserve it as hoofstomps and cheers erupted, his herd mares going immediately to his side to hug him and thank the princess personally.
I’d known he’d herded with two former Corps mares, who had retired from combat duty years earlier to raise their foals, but ’twas the first and only time I saw them… though ’twas not until my Captain related the contents of the last chapter that I understood why they each wore a single red feather.
Windshear departed that night and started basic with the Royal Guard a month later. In his wake, Gust Front became CO, promoted from SFC to Master Sergeant whilst I ascended to Operations Officer, and two years after that to Executive Officer upon my own promotion to Sergeant First Class.
We would never see our former commander again as he simply thought it best not to tempt fate by coming near the border. ’Twas not to say he did not face additional trials, however. Despite his accomplishments and accolades he was stripped of his rank and forced to undergo basic Guardspony training along with the younger recruits. Despite its harshness and how unfair it seemed, ’twas never in doubt he would succeed, and upon graduation, he was given an equivalent Guardspony rank, named a First Sergeant and immediately assigned as a Fort Spur trainer for incoming pegasus recruits. Within two years he would ascend to head trainer when the previous one retired, promoted to Sergeant Major in his place, and ’twas there he stayed. He wrote us once or twice to inquire how things were going and say he did miss us, but at the same time, he reported he was now quite content with his station and enjoying his work.
He even said once he did rather miss the thrill of combat command, but we assured him he wasn’t missing much. Raids did begin again in a year or two, once enough time had passed and new raider groups had established themselves, but they were not up to the level of the old ones and proved more an irritant than actual danger. Conversely, after having their heads handed to them in the Calea raid, the Army battalions trained hard. They proved more than capable of handling affairs on their own before long, and in truth, there was little for us to do…
Until one night when we received an emergency transfer order following a raid on Outpost Epsilon. But that, My Captain, methinks our readers already know the story of.
—Fell Flight
Indeed, old friend. I thank you for relating this tale, as remarkable and terrible as any fight we ever participated in. Mother never mentioned this action or the Lances’ capability to briefly take gryphon form, but then again, why would she reveal such sensitive information, even to me? We only found out about it later in an operation we both remember well…
But that is a story for another time. I now write this ending note from Trottingham, where I arrived just today with Fell Flight, the two of us staying with Swift Strike’s herd. ‘Tis our intention to meet up with Ironsides and find the old pub he and Windshear shared many a drink in, where we will raise a mug in his honor. I will speak these words in a toast tonight, but I wish them recorded here as well:
To my former instructor: you were a fine soldier and stallion, mentor to many and you did much for me even in the short time I knew you, not just as a teacher but the first father figure I ever had. Tis certain I hated you at first for how hard you were on me, but ’twas only later I understood how you were helping me by forging me into the best soldier possible, ensuring I could meet any challenge I would face. That I became the mare and warrior I did is testament to you, and Equestria owes you a great debt many times over for the battles you fought and the inspiration you gave us all. I admire and miss you immensely, Sergeant Major, for nothing I accomplished was possible without you…
For ’tis quite possible that Equestria might not have survived without you. I think it fitting that this tome end with your story, so that all may reflect on what it means to be a warrior and hero. ’Tis not, as Calea claimed, a measure of how much you have conquered or how many enemies you have slain, nor is it defined by how many chant your name. ’Tis simply devotion to duty and service to others that define it; a willingness to sacrifice oneself to save many more. In the end, that is what Windshear did, and ’twas his inspiration and example that would sustain us even when all hope seemed lost.
The final word of this chapter and book I give to one other individual present at the parley, who wishes to offer his own paean to a soldier he only briefly met.
—Firefly
Thank you, Captain. ’Tis true our one meeting was brief, but told me much about him. Your future second was correct when she sensed I was testing him. Even then I was good at judging strength and found his not at all lacking despite his wounds, a stallion in possession of a strong body and even stronger spirit, knowing exactly who and what he was. ’Twas certain to me he had a warrior’s soul as he met me without fear or hesitation, even willing to offer us satisfaction were it to keep the peace. Perchance we did not hold the same definition of honor, but I recognized that his was deeply held and no less strong than mine, and for it, we did accord him great respect.
In short, he was worthy of his deed—worthy of us—and ’twas for that reason that we did not seek immediate revenge, granting him a year or two of peace. When we finally sought permission to fight him, our request was declined, as the then-Consul did not wish to do anything that might draw attention to his war preparations, telling us to wait for the war itself. And when it came…
Well. I believe that story falls to your sister to tell, Captain. But until then, I will light the ceremonial firepit on our embassy grounds in the Sergeant Major’s honor, raising a bowl of rum in toast to not just a great warrior, but to the very mentor of another great warrior whose own strength and spirit I would learn well.
As you have honored me with the final word of this tome, let me say that your writing has done us all great honor, Captain, and thus, you as well. You sought to tell your story through those of your friends and foes, offering them their rightful share of your glory, and in this, you have succeeded. I look forward to seeing your tales of the war itself, and being allowed to tell the Gryphon side of it in turn. Upon your return, let us meet to remember the battles we fought… and those who fell in them.
—Prelate Layan Kaval (ret.)
Ambassador to Equestria
Gryphon Kingdom Consulate
Canterlot
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Always happy to help, Firesight. 'Tis been a pleasure to work on this with you, and I hope we continue to do great things together.
It's been a fantastic ride, and I eagerly and impatiently await the next book.
Bravo!!! Bravo!!!!
Such an incredible complex and full story you have created, my friend. Quite a thrill to read. Methinks that this is one (if not) the best military MLP fiction i have read.
I cannot wait further for the next part to come out. I take my hat off to you.
As and added note... i wonder how thier armor looks.... as well as those famous winblades the pagasi use.
Just throwing a bit to maybe expand the universe.
Nail biting at it's finest.
The end of the beginning. Before all is said and done, the entire series will be almost as long or possibly longer than Fallout Equestria. I had no part in the creation of that fic, but am honored to have contributed in the creation of this one in my own small way. It's a beauty, easily my favorite Firesight creation that reminds me of what I enjoyed most about Turnabout Storm: the deep character writing and worldbuilding.
Ponies give us humans a chance to do something with fiction usually reserved for science fiction writers — rewrite humanity as something different to show us how different our lives can be, for better or worse. With Firesight, all races are treated with respect without resorting to turning them into angels or demons, pony and non-pony alike. I don't claim to speak for all people, but when you see the Yak episodes from MLP and cringe the entire time from the blatant equine chauvinism on display (looking at you too, griffin episode
) a story like this is an oasis. I thank you sensei for the sincere effort to create the absolute best story possible and to Leo Archon for backstopping the great one with great characters and ideas of your own. You two have amazing synergy!
With that thought out of the way, I'll stop to do my usual longpost. Thank you again for writing this.
media.tenor.com/images/8f5c5ce859c1c0fb02ede6a4e9d75b84/tenor.gif
This is a great soft-end to the story. Aside from all the juicy details and bits of world building, you've once again packed in a bunch of engaging action scenes. Which are only surpassed and enhanced by the excellent cast of characters.
From the first word to the last, not one of the more than a quarter million words felt like padding. :rainbowsalute:
May this story one day be legend as well.
Criminals are a superstitious cowardly lot. So my disguise must be able to strike terror into their hearts. I must be a creature of the night, black, terrible...
derpicdn.net/img/view/2017/4/26/1422493__safe_artist-colon-hoodie_oc_oc+only_oc-colon-starfall_bat+pony_blushing_bust_clothes_fangs_female_hoodie_love+heart_mare_pony_portrait_semi-da.png
I said terrible!
As opposed to the movie, where the monster didn't show up until the end... and sucked.
Clearly they need more fiber in their diets.
(speaks into styrofoam cup) Calm down, bat-pony. Now is not the time for pleasure... That comes later!
Baneposting in a terrible vice.
A monster for whom his lands are not enough. Sometimes this brings progress, sometimes this brings regression and failure. The following paragraphs unambiguously place this bastard in the latter camp.
So you're the French back in colonial America days who paid Amerindian tribes near British colonies to kidnap, rape, scalp and drag our women off into the woods like a slaughtered deer carcass, such as Salem? Charming fellow. Well at least he's fighting his own battles today. What's the matter? That desk jockey position not suitable for you?
This chap needs a badly-needed lesson in self-awareness.
Alright, Linky is going to take this one on herself. Twinkleshine is playing World of Warcraft... or something. (Cue music)
Oh for pity's sake! Yeh know, even Genghis Khan warned his soldiers not to hate the enemy. It wasn't because he was a nice guy, but he knew recklessness leads to ruin. His plan is built entirely on his pony enemy being weak because he's grown to hate them, while he himself proves his weakness of mind again and again.
Sorry, I can't just let you have all the fun, Linky. Did this supreme plothead just announce to his audience that he's taken weeks to write a speech? Can this guy be any more cringe!? What in tartarus is wrong with him?
*Linky points at a Twinkleshine's computer monitor.* Um... Twinkle, yeh got killed by a kobold.
Screw it. He can keep his candle! Need to focus on this hot mess...
Really funny n00b!
Now there's a fella with some self-control! Couldn't be more different than Calea who's going to end up getting everyone killed.
That's all well and good, Linky. But doesn't everypony lose their minds to an extent from war?
Aye. It's a unique and fascinatin' process that's unique to every warrior with few exceptions. Some ponies or griffins are just... well I don't rightly know what it is they've got, but they keep their sanity and live a normal life after it's over while others fall apart completely. Some folks become anti-social or lose affection for all but those they fought alongside, including their mates. Some relive the fightin' until they die or become violent. Sometimes the sickness is unique to the circumstances of battle. They say when Rock Biter came home from the war, he never closed the door to his home or his room ever again — having been locked inside a besieged position under constant assault. Didn't matter if it was rainin' or snowin'. Made life miserable for his herd, mind you...
I think in this jerk's case, it just gave him an excuse to be an even bigger jerk.
Linky, you're looking kind of peeved over there...
Shh! The foals will hear yeh! Well, there's really nothing wrong with conquest in and of itself, is there? Some tribes have lousy land, some tribes have good land. Not everypony is as fortunate as we are. Do we have a claim to this land forever? Of course not! To our enemies, they are just as deserving to our land as we are. This land will be ours so long as we are strong and our enemy is weak and that's it. None of the ponies Calea slew were special snowflakes in the endless cycle of war and peace.
So the griffins dindu nuffin' is that it?
In the sense of some objective, unchanging morality, neigh. They acted in the interests of their kin. They failed because we proved ourselves worthy to be free. Our civilization passed the test. We can only pray we shall not fail the next great test — whatever it may be.
And what if world conquest becomes the interests of our kin someday? Is that something you'll be a part of? Seriously, you're starting to worry me...
You think of yehrself as an individual and value peace and comfort. I view meself as part of something far greater than meself; a product of me ancestor's success to survive and thrive in a hostile world. Without them I am nothing. You are nothing, and Equestria is nothing more than a product of geography. Should Equestria's survival come at the cost of all nations, so be it. But reality is not an abstract construct created by some philosopher, but in the physical realm. And from where I stand, Equestria needs no other lands to complete it. We have all we could ever desire and I certainly wish no harm on any other race or nation.
Some would argue no one person should have that say...
Aye, but what do they know?
(sigh)
Wonderfully executed! Credit us one thing, we may be terrible at strategy at this point in the war, but we're not lacking for good tactics. That so easily could have failed.
Yeh know what helps? Silk. Absorbs the shock the armor cannae stop.
And feels nice too!
That last round of edits really punched up this scene! I mean damn, that's nice description! Anyway, back to the girls...
Niiiiiice! Noiiiiice!
It's the perfect mix of real and anime!
I reckon this planet has a good five minutes left!
90% of all bar brawls end up the floor and all that fancy technique goes out the windae. Good to know our hero is up for another round!
T-this (wheeze) isn't even my f-final form!
Did the world a favor. If it wasn't our people he killed, it was his own. Calea is not a warrior, he's a murdering psycho getting his kicks. I don't question the righteousness of either side's cause, but in his case he was simply too far gone to be allowed to live. Celestia knows I'll never stand for needless violence.
Just enough violence to do the job, huh?
That's right, sister!
One of those ill-gotten gains being a wicked case of crabs so bad he earned the nickname "Griffith C. Rottoncrotch".
There's one guy I look forward to seeing fight. Farewell RoF, you were quite a fun ride!
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The pleasure was mine, my friend. You made this work much better for the ideas you had and characters you came up with as well as your gift for dialog in places. May we continue to collaborate through our other works as well.
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Thank you! There will be some delay in the next book, unfortunately, as other things need to get finished first like TLaTU and I need to come up with maps of Equestria and the greater world so I can show visually how the battles and campaigns are being fought. I’m also going to try to have at least five chapters ready to start so there can be plenty to read from the get-go and hopefully give the story an initial boost.
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That’s what I like to hear!
I do take a lot of pride and pleasure in this story and has always been something I’ve looked forward to coming back to work on. May the second book be so well-received!
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Thank you! That’s high compliment indeed!
Here’s hoping the next part will be the same for you... and for me!
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You know, I really should get some artwork commissioned to answer those questions. One thing I would note, however, is that in the episode a couple weeks back, it looked like Celestia was wearing wingblades as Daybreaker!
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Short but sweet compliment. Thank you!
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It’s been a quarter million words? Wow, it has been. This thing is now novel-length and then some. Maybe I really *should* consider turning this into a book...
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And it’s for that reason and a couple others that I’ve so greatly enjoyed writing this story as well. It really gave me the chance to spread my writing wings and soar into worlds of my own creation, exploring and fleshing them out as I went. Very little in this story I started out intending to write. Hell, I didn’t even intend to write this story initially, and then it was only supposed to be a quick little four-or-five chapter side fic to TLaTU. But like so much of my other writing, it took on a life of its own and swept me up in it, taking me along for the ride.
Rewrite humanity and rewrite history, in this case, even to the point of borrowing battles, warriors and leaders from actual events and eras to place them here and see how they would have done in this new setting. In book two, I’ll also be availing myself of the chance to explore a few alternate paths of history, some of the great what-ifs of WWII.
Always. And you played a role with that yourself with your work on thestral society in A Gentleman’s Price (M-Rated so unlinked, but highly recommended, folks!) I happily borrowed from, and more directly when you wrote the parts about the Saddle Arabians. Part of what’s made this so good is it’s collaborative nature. And of course, it goes without saying that I borrowed very heavily from DEL’s Feathered Heart, which greatly fleshed out griffin society.
Thank you. I very happily ignore the Yak episodes and wasn’t at all pleased with the griffinstone one either. Seems like all races except the ponies have to have some major over-the-top character flaw, whether it’s stubbornness or greed or being mean. The only exception was the Ember episode with the dragons; before that the dragons were shown to be irredeemably mean to the point that even Spike wanted nothing to do with them. And with due respect to the writers, that’s not how this should work.
You’re very welcome!
But don’t forget your own contributions, my friend, with the Saddle Arabians and Thestrals to say nothing of all your longposts with the girls! By comment or by guest writing, you are more welcome to contribute in the works to come. We’ve already discussed one thing I know you want to write down the line; you’re welcome to others as well!
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At still short of 200 likes it’s still struggling for relevance. But hey, I can dream...
The irony of Fell Flight is that for all her thestral heritage and as much a terror as she is at night, she’s actually got white fur, you know!
Or how about this one? What, you don’t think this will strike fear into the hearts of hardened warriors?
cdn-img.fimfiction.net/story/gkur-1455222992-314779-full
Well, it might give them a heart attack from pure adorableness, anyway... picture from https://www.fimfiction.net/story/314779/the-most-annoying-house-guest, which is a surprisingly sweet story.
Never saw it. Just know it by reputation. I didn’t take the name from that, though. I took it from the name of one Twilight’s romance novels Rarity gave her in TAS. And damned if I remember where I got the name from then...
Well, YOU try getting enough when all you have to eat are those scones!
You know, there are support groups and clinics for treating that...
Basically, he just wants to fight, conquer and kill. And even if he succeeded, it still wouldn’t be enough for him.
He had far more than most by virtue of battle feats and rising to the rank of Talaeus. The problem was, fighting was all he knew how to do or cared for. He had no ambition beyond simple bloodlust. He’s like Thunderbolt without friends or conscience. Was Windshear right and would Thunderbolt have slain him easily? Yes, for one very simple reason: even at his worst and lost in the throes of his rage, Thunderbolt fights for others. This guy...? Selfish bastard who thinks only of himself and personal glory.
A very lethal one is soon to be delivered...
Welcome and pull up a chair, Linky, I’m sure you’ll have a few things to say about our Red Talon friend...
Arrogant, unhumble, thinks he’s invincible, shows no respect for his opponents or even has the slightest inkling that there may be those among them who are his equal or better. In short, he’s a foal of the first order, and even to his own side he’s a liability as he might have just blown their invasion plans by bringing about war too soon. Had he returned, Kaval would’ve killed him, and if he’d somehow encountered Celestia in this, she’d’ve slain him without a second thought.
Yeah, in true supervillian fashion. Get the feeling this guy actually thinks his speeches will be recorded for all posterity. Of course, he’s also in love with the sound of his own voice, so...
And in the end, he does. He led those groups to their deaths, and his own.
PTSD is a very real thing. It hits some people hard and others not at all, or at least seemingly. It’s why I respect soldiers and warriors they way I do and why one of the themes I push is to say that warriors fight to spare others the horrors of war, allowing those others--civilians, children, those of their nation--to live in peace while they stand guard and endure the nightmares of war for them.
Headcanon accepted. Actually makes a lot of sense, considering he was commanding the defense of Stalliongrad.
An asshole of the first order; the kind of guy you want to see killed. Every war story needs a couple, after all. Might even be one or two on the pony side before all is said and done...
So was Windshear at this point!
What nobody ever seems to remember is that peace and liberty are NOT the normal state of affairs in the world, not historically not even really today considering how many people live under the boot of an evil regime or someone with dictatorial powers. And historically, war and conquest is how cultures and ideas have spread as well as been the spark for a great deal of innovation and migration. So historically, even failed wars and empires do accomplish much. In the end, the British Empire couldn’t sustain itself but left its mark around the world, and I would certainly say it was overall for the better than they did for the values and progress they spread worldwide. Hell, here in the US we’re a child of the British Empire so all we’ve done that certainly counts towards that side of the ledger as well.
In the whole good-vs-evil debate, you have to remember that the other side sees itself as good as well, even monsters like the Nazis or ISIS. And if we become so weak they can topple us, then ultimately the fault more lies with us than them. The price of liberty is eternal vigiliance and the peace will not be secured by social justice warriors. It will be be won and protected by real soldiers who fought and died. That is the way of it, and always will be.
Geography and those who came before you, who forged it into the nation she became. Which I think is her point. We don’t understand the hardships our ancestors suffered because we’re far removed from it now. But history has a way of reminding us, and there are always new challenges ahead.
But if those nations or their people threaten ours, then all bets are off.
Sounds you’re announcing the divine province of Linkious Rex?
Very good thing the Lances were present that day! Otherwise this would have been a far more difficult affair...
Really? Then Rarity will use it to make fabulous new battle armor!
Thank you! I really picked over this thing pretty good. Still am now, as a matter of fact. I keep making additions and edits as I think of them all in an effort to make the battle scene flow better.
I’m particularly proud of this sequence. What’s the point of keeping a weapon if it’s going to throw off your balance and movements?
Once again, thank you! That’s high compliment. I wanted the fight to seem real and the struggle intense, and above all else not to end cheaply, like say...
Here’s what the battle would have been it if really was five minutes:
Oh he definitely is, whether it’s for another round in a fight or another round of ale. Don’t think Windshear hasn’t had a few bar brawls in his day!
It isn’t. His final form is corpse! But he’s about to transform into that here...
Calea was dead either way. Like I said earlier, he’d’ve been executed by Kaval if he returned home, and quite rightly. From their point of view, they cared less about the ponies killed then the fact that he nearly brought about war too soon, upsetting everything. That’s also why there were so unusually conciliatory to the ponies afterwards. They didn’t want war or even another Phoenix Fire then. Might have uncovered their plans or worse, given the ponies a chance to learn more lessons from direct combat with the Imperial military.
A mare after me own heart!
Which is another reason Gaius was recalling him. With his severe shellfish allergy, he couldn’t be around anyone with crabs.
You will see him fight, believe me! And remember you’re getting off one ride and then heading over to the next where the roller coaster is even bigger! See you there and thanks for all the help and longposts!!!!
Well, I missed when this chapter first went up, since my tracking didn't think to tell me that a new chapter was posted 10 days ago, but this chapter and this story were absolutely epic. It's already in my favorites, and if I had more room, I'd put it on my profile page as well
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Sorry you missed it at launch, but glad you found it now! Thanks for the kind words, thanks for following, and enjoy the next book to come!
I’m probably reading this late, but please tell me I’m not the only one to see that Pokémon X and Y reference.
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You spotted it! And no, you weren’t. We shamelessly raid Pokemon and Final Fantasy for names of groups and individuals. As such, references will abound...
Calea was truly one of the most evil gryphons to have existed and Windshear saved many lives by killing him. Windshear also made the right decision to become a trainer since he really didn't need to prove himself after that and could do better by sharing hios experiences. It's clear that the second Defender of Harmony award was earned when the gryphons attacked fort Spur.
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That was more or less his thinking as well, though it was less about having no need to prove himself then removing himself from the border where Talaeus challenges and raider revenge attacks were far more likely.
Again, I’m not going to spoiler the answer here.
I’ve run out of ways to say “wow”. This was a heck of a ride, and I look forward to reading part two.
Video link for "Triumphant" is broken. And yeah, I really wish this was a physical book I could put on my shelf.
Damn fine read. Great story. If this story would be canon i might understand why Celestia wanted the Griffons in a Economic crisis at the time of the main story...
Done~
NEXT!
okie this holds for a bit until Feathered Hearths continues.
*good story addict pon noises* 
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Glad you enjoyed!
Thanks for checking this out. Plenty more epicness to come when you read Into the Storm!
Pone Combat Zero: The Equestrian War
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Can’t believe I never replied to this. Thanks! And I hope you’ve found part two just as good.
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Thanks, though I honestly despise the depiction of the griffons in canon, reducing them to a single crumbling village. And by the end, the show Celly didn’t strike me as capable of doing anything clever. One of my many grievances I have with how the show ended.
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I’d both play it and want the soundtrack for that!
wooo man that was a true ride and I loved every minute of it. you and your team have done amazing work with this story and I'm so stocked that I have the war epic to get into next. The last few chapters took some time for me to get to as I was genuinely worried for the characters for when the outbreak of the war arrived. I shouldn't have been as the last chapters didn't cover it lol (I feel so foolish) that's the next story. But man that's what this tail does to me its so reverting it just drags me in and I've come to love the characters so much I fear for all of them. Plus the subject matter is up my ally and your understanding and knowledge and ability to make this so believable in a military story sense, even though its set in a world full of colourful ponys is a testament to your ability as well as your team :D
so that's enough gushing, I'm going to have a cup of tea, digest what I've just read and start building up my nerve to start the next part of the story.
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Welcome to the end of the ride! I’m very gratified you enjoyed it this much. Having finished it, feel free to proceed to the next one, which is actually three books in one. The second story is more a Magnum Opus of chronological wartime chronicles covering different periods and operations than a single story.
You know, you’re not the first person who told me that they got worried before the end because they thought the story was supposed to describe the war itself but was running out of room to do so. But no, it only deals with *the coming* of the war, not the war itself. That’s left for the subsequent work. I suppose I should really modify the story description to make that clear.
Then I’ve done my job as a writer.
You now identify with and understand them, which will make all that happens to them and all they describe that much more hard-hitting.
Though I never served in the military in any meaningful sense, I still have a strong interest in it and in battles/tactics of old. This story gave me a chance to explore them further in my own verse and on my own terms.
It’s there when you’re ready! Though I suggest having something a bit stronger than tea for certain chapters and scenes. I don’t hold back, and needless to say, not all the battles are victories, and even the latter are often only quite dearly won.
PS: I have a couple PMs from you to respond to. I promise I’ll get to them in the next couple days.
How. Many. Times. Do you wanna make me cry this week? It's rude! This is a hate crime!
That's so sweet and sad 😭 that's an amazing detail to add in