Where The Heart Lies

by Broman

Prologue The Story So Far

Prologue, The story so far

The First Contact War. It was a war that would change the fate of Equestria. The Griffon leader known as Ravenclaw, had murdered both King Solaris and Prince Osiris, the rulers of Equestria, but his life was also claimed as a result. The two sides quickly turned from small skirmishes to a full scale war that raged for over twenty years, where alliances forged and shattered during its wake. For all those years, Princess Celestia and her allies overcame the obstacles and opposition and turned back the tides of war.

The nation of Prance, which has been in occupation for most of the war, was the last bastion for the Griffon Empire, and the last beacon for the griffons was the city of Prancy, a city desperately held it for many moons. When autumn drew its end the city had finally fallen into the last pockets of resistance, until it was all but abandoned. So much death, so much madness was claimed within the heart of the city. The Griffon Empire , entrenched in total war, destroyed everything, from every home, to every street, and to every block. Soon the whole of Prance was desolate and the griffons, in a last ditch attempt, attacked the lines head-on and suffered nearly half of their casualties. They now made a full retreat, and Prancy was soon reclaimed.

As the Equestrian Army and its allies recovered what was left from the city, they now looked to finish claiming the rest of the land, and find those responsible for such slaughter. They knew for a certainty that those who orchestrated this destruction, responsible for the countless deaths, would be brought to justice.

For one Equestrian royal guard, by the name of Quicksilver, he sees the truth behind the massacre. For he lies as their captive and sees the real evil among the ranks of the griffons.

This, is his story.

****

“Get up you filth!” Quicksilver received a kick to his side, jolting him awake. He grunted in pain as he lifted himself up from the hard ground. Once he stood at his full height, a tight pressure on his neck pulled him forward. The griffon in front of him was holding onto a rope, yanking him forward through a wooded area. With his eyes half closed, he tried to get his senses together. He looked up and saw that the sun was not yet up, and he could still see the moon up in the sky. He sighed deeply as he looked at the ground before him and pondered over the days past events.

Quicksilver was not a simple soldier within the Equestrian forces; he was a lieutenant of the Royal Guard, part of the Thunder and Lightning Division in the Equestrian Army, “voluntarily” serving the front lines and facing the enemy head on. He and his fellow guards were the first to enter Prancy, fighting wave after wave against enemy griffons. It was only through sheer will and determination that they were able to push back against their enemies, and it was only after they believed it was all over that the griffons pushed back one last time. It was then that chaos and confusion took place, and he was surrounded. The griffons had launched a full scale attack, a last ditch attempt to break the lines and reclaim parts of the inner city. In the midst of battle, before the dust even settled, he was struck from behind and was quickly taken by the enemy.

It had been three days since his capture.

“Keep moving forward!” his captor yelled as he pulled the rope, forcing Quicksilver forward, making him trip over himself. He landed hard on his left side, and he screamed out in agony. The griffon kept pulling, forcing him to climb back up. As he looked back, he clearly saw the wound that dangled off the side of his blue coat. His left wing was bent and dislocated, hanging haphazardly on his side, small patches of blood on his feathers and fur. When he was captured he had tried to escape into the air, but their leader, Colonel Sharp Beak, had ordered his wing broken. The limb remained where it was, and Quicksilver feared that if it wasn't treated soon, then he would lose his ability to fly. Not that it mattered; the gryphons wouldn’t treat the wounds of a prisoner.

As he trekked up the hill, his body screaming for rest, he began to see more and more griffons moving up the beaten path. He could see the stone-cold expressions on each of their faces, and he could see that even in defeat these griffons would never give in. They were losing the war, yet why did they not show it? The griffon army had scattered after the defeat at Prancy, so why did they continue to linger? The thoughts continued to swirl around his mind until he came out of the woods. He looked around his surroundings and saw at least two dozen griffons within the area, some heavily armored in steel while others wore simple garbs and cloaks. As he was forced forward near the center of the group he could see another was forced to the front as well. But it was not another pony nor a cervine.

It was another griffon.

“On your knees!” the griffon forced Quicksilver to stop and placed a claw around his neck until he was on his knees. As his head hung low, the moon, still illuminated in the pre-dawn sky, allowed him to see his silver mane muddied and filthy, with small clumps of dirt still attached to him. He hadn't bathed for a least a month.

He heard a struggle from the captured griffon and turned his head to see the griffon being forced near the middle of the pack. Before he could get a good look, his captor held him down onto the ground.

“Don’t get any funny ideas,” his captor said, making him to stare forward. He kept his head steady and he complied with the griffon, even though he wanted so much to wring his scrawny neck.

Still, he remained where he was, somewhat grateful that he was able to rest. He wheezed heavily, and he could see his breath in the morning air. As he looked out further, he saw that he was on some hill of some sort, just south on the outskirts of city of Prancy. From the city’s horizon, he could still see smoke billowing from the rooftops. The griffons had started a great fire, putting old structures to the torch, and leaving nothing for the locals to return to. Residents would return to burnt ruins of a home and nothing else. However, he knew the Equestrian Army would still be there; they would’ve built a safe zone for the equines of Prance to resettle themselves and would most likely stay for some time to either help rebuild or secure the remaining borders of Prance--the latter proving the most obvious choice. He was hopeful that, with Equestria’s help, the city of Prancy would be restored. As he continued to look onward he could see that the sun was starting to rise in the east, the first morning rays blinding him. However, clouds were slowly coming in to block them.

He kept an eye on the griffon who was forced to his knees by the other griffons and glimpsed his claws bound behind him. As this occurred, his captor lifted his head.

“Take a good hard look Equine. This is what we do to our deserters,” he said, and Quicksilver was able to get a good look at the bound griffon.

This griffon was different from the rest. He had a brown body, but bore white feathers all around his head. However, the distinct feature about them was that the tips were red and at the top of his head, his small quill feathers were shaded the same color. Quicksilver also saw that his eyes were golden, with another shade of red covering his eyes and in them, Quicksilver saw betrayal as the vigilant griffon looked upon his fellow griffons.

“Attention!” A griffon called out and all of the soldiers stood in salute, their chest up and their heads held high. They remained like that when a single griffon began walking forth to the center of the pack, his body adorned with silver armor and a black helm. Quicksilver felt his blood run cold but also felt a deep hatred within his heart. This griffon was the very reason for his capture and for his soon to be permanent injury. This was the black heart of the griffon army, Colonel Sharp Beak.

He moved in a commanding manner, eyeing the smaller griffon on the ground. Whatever intention he had Quicksilver could only guess that it’d end badly.

“Franz Stormcloud! You are charged for desertion and abandonment of post of the city of Prancy. You left your officer and companions who died bravely against the pony cur. How do you plead?” Sharp Beak said, almost daring him to speak as if he was looking for something to exploit. The younger griffon looked up at his officer with a questioning look.

“This has got to be a joke. I left because the city was already lost. The city of Prancy could no longer be held, it had to-” Sharp Back struck him across his right cheek.

“So you admit to leaving your post. That leaves you guilty for abandoning our fellow gryphons,” Sharp Beak said accusingly.

“You're wrong! I was forced from my post. When the last assault took place I was retreating down the center street near the mayor’s villa. I encountered two guards and met up with sergeant Black Wing. We gave chase to the ponies who had retreated into the sewer and we-”

“And you abandoned him to his fate!” Sharp Beak yelled again, striking Franz again on the other side of the cheek. “You left my right gryphon down in that sewer and left your companions to die. You should have died with them, instead of fleeing away like a coward,” Sharp Beak continued until Franz looked at him in the eye, Quicksilver seeing the hate rise within him. Quicksilver could only wonder if the two guards were part of the patrols he had sent out. He had dispatched several patrols around the area, including one near the mayor’s villa. The mayor had requested it was to be searched again for his missing daughter, and it was possible that it could have been his faithful companions. The two had not arrived back with the rest of the patrols when the final engagement took place.

“Hammer, Anvil,” he softly whispered.

“What they were doing was foolish but most of all damning. He was obsessed with getting those guards. He was driven to see them killed, even at the cost of his own soldiers. I watched those ponies fight with reason and determination. It was only after they were exhausted when I could strike, yet I didn’t.”

“Didn’t or couldn’t?” Sharp Back questioned, eyeing him with malice in his eyes. Franz didn’t say anything until he looked down, and Quicksilver saw what he thought he’d never see: the griffon was crying.

“I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t take the life they were protecting. A small filly, barely eight or younger. She was innocent and it stands against what we value most, to never draw a blade upon the innocent. I couldn’t take away the life of a child. So I left, and I stayed my blade. I would never go against what we hold sacred. Even you should know this,” Franz finished, allowing the words to settle.

Sharp Beak remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the younger griffon. Quicksilver could see the officer inspect the young blood, and he looked at him with a questioning gaze. His breathing grew deeper and soon he took a step back to observe the sun behind him.

“So… you admit your sins,” he said before turning around and unfolding his wings, allowing them to reach the highest point of intimidation. ”Frans Stormcloud! By my right as high officer in the Gryphon army, and by right under King Bronzeclaw, son of Ravenclaw, you are sentenced to death, for betrayal of your country and to your fellow Gryphons!”

Just like that, the trial was over and Franz was forced from his spot towards the edge of the hill.

“Your mad! The war is already lost and you won’t accept it!” Franz cried out as he was forced to stand, his body in front of the rising sun, which slowly rose over the horizon.

“This war will continue, Franz Stormcloud. After our last breath tears at their lungs, after they have been choked by the very streets of our dead, we will never surrender. We will win this war, until everypony lies dead, and our empire will rise again as the superior race upon the whole of Equus.”

“Pluck you and your damn pride!” Franz screamed as he spat into his officer’s face. Sharp Beak rubbed away the spittle and punched the young blood in the gut. The blow nearly made him fell over, and he was coughing up blood. Even though he was their enemy, Quicksilver couldn’t help but feel a slight bit sympathy for him. Indeed, the griffons around him were truly mad if they believed that their war was going to be won, but they were even madder still when they were turning on themselves. Soon Sharp Beak forced Franz back onto his paws.

“Your family will be ashamed of you for breaking your loyalties. When they hear of this they will have nothing but contempt for you,” Sharp Beak said as he moved back to at least ten paces away from the young griffon. Sharp Beak then motioned for five other griffons to stand beside him. In their claws Quicksilver could see that they carried a small crossbow. As the line of griffons readied their bolts Franz looked at each of them. In his eyes Quicksilver knew that they carried nothing but spite.

“When my family learns of this! They will take your head!” he called out as Sharp Beak could only shake his head at the display.

“You are weak Franz Stormcloud, and the weak have no place in the empire.” He readied his crossbow and aimed it directly at the young blood. Quicksilver could only watch as they readied to fire at their former companion. He took notice of the other griffons, who bore nothing but stone stares as the execution was about to unfold.

“Long live the Gryphon Empire,” Sharp Beak said as the other griffons beside him also replied in turn, repeating the same words. Before the colonel could begin the countdown, Franz puffed his chest out to them and spoke once more. Only this time, with more conviction.

“Empire? This Empire was already gone the moment we declared war on Equestria! We were a race that stood as a testament to every nation. We were united! We never once betrayed our own! Since this war started our proudness… no… our pride, has done nothing but consumed us!’’ He said as Sharp Beak yelled out his order, ignoring the young blood’s rant.

“Ready!” he yelled as his griffon soldiers armed the bolts and lifted them up, prepared to strike when ready. The young blood continued to call out, almost screaming out his words.

“We no longer care for our fellow Gryphons! We no longer care for our citizens, we don’t watch over our cities! We’ve been led to a false idea of nationalism and only care for the idea of a strong empire!”

Take Aim!” Sharp Back called out as he, and the five gryphons aimed their crossbows directly at Franz, while he continued to scream out his beliefs. The griffons, and they had no remorse on their countenance, no emotion spread upon them as they looked at their former friend. Those on the outside, however, had mixed feelings. Quicksilver could clearly see the uncertainty in some of their eyes, and a few of them even turned their heads away as if ashamed.

“We’ve become a false people! We’ve strayed from our path, becoming the monsters the ponies believe us to be. We slaughter, plundered, and kill, all for the sake of winning! Our capital was once the breadbasket of our nation, our hope, and our people’s freedom. Yet you have squandered them as if they were nothing! Know this, Sharp Beak, and let my words burn a memory into you black heart! You have been consumed by your pride and you will bring nothing but death to everygryphon! You and our corrupt king Bronzeclaw will bring death to our empire! You’re the traitor here! You're the tyrant! You no good plucking ba-!”

Sharp Beak fired his weapon.

The bolt launched and struck dead center in Franz’s chest. He gasped once, his mouth hanging open. He looked down at the wound, blood already spreading across his chest and downward. He shuddered slightly and fell forward, landing on his knees.The whole area was silent, and all of the griffons could only look on, wondering if the first bolt had taken him already. Quiksilver watched as the seconds ticked by, and his hatred grew even further against Sharp Beak. For another moment, Franz, remained where he was, breathing deeply, yet barely moving. Then, in a single moment, Franz lifted his head straight at his former companions, and tears had streamed down his cheeks. He drew in his last breath and bellowed out for all to hear.

“Long live sacred Gryphonstone!” he screamed out his last words before a hail of bolts were sent flying. The remaining bolts struck him deep in his chest, piercing deep into his body. Blood trailed from his beak and down the side of his face, his face turning neutral. His body fell backwards, his life taken by the ones he once called friends.

Quicksilver watched Franz’s motionless body, and he could not help but feel more sympathy towards the young soldier. He was speaking the truth, revealing the infection of their pride. Yet they silenced him in order to keep facts hidden. Indeed, these griffons only believed in one thing, to satisfy their own needs, not giving a buck to their own kind.

Sharp Beak then turned. Quicksilver felt a cold shudder run up his body as Sharp Beak’s gaze met him. He began walking forward, looking at him like a predator ready to seize its helpless prey. Quicksilver looked up as the griffon soon stood over him.

“Now, what shall we do with you?” he said, his voice turning menacing and cold. Before he could continue, a sound of wings drew their attention and a new griffon, a scout, landed in front of them.

“Pardon me, Colonel Sharp Beak. I just received word that our forces have been gathering to the High Talon mountains. You and your forces should proceed in meeting with them soon.”

“We shall depart at once!” Sharp Beak spoke out as his platoon began taking their flight. Before he could take to the sky, he lowered his head.“To be continued,” he whispered to Quicksilver as he took off into the sky.

His jailer rose in the air and grabbed at his sides, his talons sinking deep into his skin, but not deep enough to pierce it. He winced as the griffon lifted him into the air, and his body pressed together by the griffons talons. As he became airborne he turned his head to see a glimpse of Franz, lying in a pool of blood, but the sun soon rose above its horizon, and he turned his head, blinded. He could only stare forward as the griffons soared north east toward the High Talon Mountains, where large storm clouds were gathered. As the cold struck his body, he started to feel weak. His eyes were drawing heavy, but before his eyes finally closed he saw something white descending from the clouds above.

Winter had arrived.

Author's Note:

Hello Everyone! New story! New things to come! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of Where The Heart Lies, more will be added in the future so stay tuned!

Edited: New cover art has been added to the original work and new art has been added.

~Broman

Also enjoy this picture from the original cover art. This is from Pimpartist101, so do go check her out!

Comments

[Jade Dawn]

Two things: One, the spacing between paragraphs is too far apart.

And second...was anyone else imagining the Star Wars theme playing over that intro?

[Broman]

8676165
First, I checked over with what you were saying and I saw the error. I made the fix so the spacing is returned to normal.

Second, I didn't imagine the star wars theme being apart of this when making this, but it's a cool comparison none the less.

[Dues ex Corvus]

“Long live sacred Gryphonstone!” he screamed out his last words before a hail of bolts were sent flying. The remaining bolts struck him deep in his chest, piercing deep into his body. Blood trailed from his beak and down the side of his face, his face turning neutral. His body fell backwards, his life taken by the ones he once called friends.

Long live sacred Germany

[Teraunce]

I hope Franz actually survived the attack and is found by ponies soon.