• Published 20th Apr 2016
  • 2,022 Views, 259 Comments

Where The Heart Lies - Broman



Quicksilver, a pegasus guard, is captive under the gryphons. He now must survive in an gryphon encampment but at the same time learns about their reasons behind the war.

  • ...
4
 259
 2,022

Grace

Quicksilver couldn’t sleep this night. His mind continued to be awake, long after Gretchen had fallen asleep.

General Quill was gone, his life taken by his own claws but only after being grievously wounded by a mad King's followers. The Mad King, it seems, fabricated claims against General Quill and his family over their plans for the city of Prancy and its inhabitants, while he and his cohorts fought to reclaim and pillage it to the ground. Black Talon was still out there, and will likely return to claim a corpse before long, along with Sharp Beak who would no doubt be wanting his revenge against Quicksilver and Gretchen. The Gryphons also had a new weapon at their disposal. This matchlock, as Lupin had described, would be devastating on the battlefield and renew the war’s bloodshed.

All that has happened since he had left that encampment has lead from one bad situation to the next, and it felt as if it was going to get worse.

At the very least, his mind was somewhat eased by Gretchen being held in his hooves.

She had languished a few hours ago, crying herself to sleep over her loss of her uncle. His death had triggered memories within her and caused her much heartache. He could still feel her shaking long into the night. He had remained by her side, holding her close to his body and trying his best to comfort her.

Yet, despite her grievances and loss, he too was feeling great loss of his own parents.

When his father died in the war they found his body embedded into a wooden tree, a spear thrust deep into his body. His mother was burned after the pox claimed her, and he couldn’t even be by her side when she died. He had sunken to such a state of depression that he had never truly grieved for their loss, not even able to cry for them when they passed. For all those years, he’d only thought of them as casualties of war.

Instead his heart was heavy over his elder sister and what she had planned for both of them. Never once did he ever decide things on his own. She was always there, bringing up from the brink and saving his life that made her his guide. His parents seemed to be an afterthought as she guided his life and made decisions for the both of them. When he fell down and was at his lowest, she would be by his side to pick him back up.

But now, it would appear that Gretchen was going through the same fate as he did all those years ago, and now she needed to be lifted up from her loss. Yet, with Gretchen here in this cabin upon the high peaks of High Talon Mountains, he was silently crying as a newborn babe.

For he did not know what he could do in order to comfort her weary heart.

He knew not if anything he could say would ease her pain, nor if any comfort he would bring would soothe her. He only listened to that voice in his head. The still soft voice, something that seemed to be in everypony, guided his actions. His own conscious mind, though disagreeing with the differences between them, pushed him to give her some reassurance. If there was any consolation from all that she has given him since their time together, this was it.

For some reason, holding her in his arms and wrapping his wings around her frame, it all seemed right.

Gretchen, I hope you’re okay, he thought, closing his eyes and trying to get some sleep.

However, his mind was still troubled. It was not for the events that had unfolded around him. Not because that dangers will be lurking in the darkness. It was also not his own uneasiness for holding her this close to him.

It was the smell of death nearby.

The smell permeated the cabin, seeping into every wooden frame and every wall. It hung in the air, tainting the home. Even the fire, which had become a low ember, could not damper it’s stain. Was it because of this death and senseless violence that remained in this home for so long the very reason he could not sleep? Was his heart not at rest because the murderers of Gretchen’s uncle remained in her family's home?

Either way, the smell of death was getting to him and they needed to be removed.

Quicksilver quickly unfurled himself from Gretchen’s body, his burdened wings leaving her frame. He removed himself from her side and quickly yet quietly got out of the bed, the warmth being sapped away from the close touch. Deciding not to leave her in the cold, he gently place the comforter over her body and kept it snug so she stayed warm. Eyeing the low fire in the hearth, he grabbed more wood and piled more into the pit. After a few minutes passed, the fire slowly renewed over the lumber, churning in heat and casting its light over the room.

Quicksilver went to the door knowing he had much to do this night, but paused to cast a glance back to Gretchen, who remained fast asleep. He gave a small smile before going through the door and into the next room.

The first room he entered was the bedroom with the two Gryphons inside. It was a complete mess and the smell of blood hung in the air. Steeling his nerves and silencing any doubt, he went to his task. He first picked up the Gryphon who had the battle axe and the bolt that remained in his face. He picked up the lumbering body, hoisted it over his shoulders and headed down the stairs. The old wood creaked and waned with every step he made. Once outside, he settled the body onto the cold snow outside the home.

He took a look at the dead warrior, seeing his eyes half open and looking blankly to the sky. He wondered what their life would have been if they hadn't followed Black Talon. What his life once was before the war. Wondering what his name is. He closed his eyes, then gently placed a hoof the Gryphon’s eyes and closed them. He took a look around him, seeing the odd forms and shapes scattered about the snow.

Those are going to be the most difficult to move, he surmised, heading back inside to gather the rest of the bodies.

One by one, with every minute to near hour of his labour, he gathered the bodies of each of the Gryphons inside the home. Because of Gretchen sleeping, he did his work quietly. He gathered their weapons, stashing them in the living room of the cabin. At the same time he checked to see if they had any small provisions or supplies that they’d brought along with them. He struck out on most of them, but he did find one or two carrying dried meat rations.

Though wrong to steal from the dead and his stomach protesting the provisions, it was necessary for survival.

After clearing the dead Gryphons from both floors, he moved on to remove the Gryphon that was stuck in the window. The body was still, displayed like some statue staring up to the sky. Quicksilver carefully lifted the Gryphon off the broken glass, gently removing the shards so that he wouldn’t step on them. He felt the body fall into him, and he held firm as he dragged it outside.

Why are you doing this? a voice spoke through his head.

He paused, looking around for somepony nearby. After a moment of silence he continued his work, dragging the cadaver and laying it next to his fellow Gryphons. They all laid idle, all matched by their colored feathers but each face different by age and appearance. He looked out to the bodies that remained in the snow, their bodies illuminated by the light of the moon now partially exposed by the parted clouds above. The flakes gently fell from on high and covered their still forms, threatening to bury and leave them forgotten forever.

Sighing deeply, his breath visible in the cold air, he went about to recover the bodies.

He spent what felt like an hour moving the bodies, setting them aside and placing which limb went to which body. He would occasionally drag their weapons inside, and settling them with the rest of their gear. After exhausting himself, he observed his work over the gryphons.

He wondered what their lives might have been if they hadn't worked under Sharp Beak or Black Talon. What lies did he tell tell to them to make them follow his mad crusade? Or what threats that they issued in order for their complete and total cooperation?

It didn’t matter much now. The dead can’t tell their final fates.

Remembering there was a spade in the kitchen, he decided to head back in and grab it so that he may dig a hole. When he was still outside, he recalled that General Quill has not been removed from his room. He made a note to get him later and that he needed to give him a proper burial.

He didn’t know if Gretchen would be coarse with him or object to this. He didn’t even know if he would object against a basic Gryphon burial custom. He would deal with that threshold when it came. General Quill needed to be given a decent grave that was not left unmarked.

He did write that he wanted this… to be buried in a place that was his home.

He took the spade with him and moved several yards away from the house, searching for a good location. After several minutes of searching, he came upon an open area that was near the cliffside. He looked out to see the landscape around him. The valley below was covered in a thick mist, and the mountains jutted out like small islands out of a ocean. He back peddled for a moment, imagining that he could take off in flight from where he was, and that he may glide across the open valley and the high mountains around him. He gave a weary smile and looked at what was underneath him.

This was the spot.

He took the spade and gave a hefty thrust into the snow and earth, removing the first patch of dirt.

Why are you doing this? the voice returned, a little louder this time and in a mocking tone.

Quicksilver paused his work for but a brief moment before narrowing his eyes and continuing to dig. With every plunge with the spade, he removed small stones that got in his way and digging ever deeper, his tired body being heated by the hard labor.

Is this out of pity for her? the voice spoke to him.

“Shut up,” he replied, digging a little harder than needed and hurting his hoof in the process. He cursed under his breath and kept digging, ignoring the cold around the voice in his mind.

Sure, ignore me if you will… but this doesn’t change the fact that she is not a friend.

“You don’t know that,” he replied, pushing a rather large rock out of the hole and setting it out of the way. The voice remained silent, and he focused his attention at the task at hoof. After another twenty minutes of constant digging he was already three feet deep inside the ground. His body was sore and cold, yet at the same time felt overwhelmingly hot over his labor. He continued moving the earth, making it larger and deeper so that General Quill’s body would not be ravaged by wild animals or the elements.

They are different from us, you know this as much as I. Why continue to help them when you’ve been owed enough?

“This is not about me. This is about Gretchen’s uncle, her family. She has been through enough.”

And yet we have been put through much more, the voice replied, a venom in its voice. Quicksilver chose to ignore it, getting deeper and deeper into the hole. After spending at least an hour or two on the frozen mountainside, he had finished the grave. It was roughly five to six feet deep, a good size. Quicksilver dragged himself up out of the hole, and his hooves crunched onto the snow. His hooves felt unbearably heavy, and his body shook from the cold in the air. He looked up to the sky, and his eyes widened slightly from the sight.

The clouds were not as visible, and he could see the stars high above the sky.

He blinked once, thinking it was just his imagination, though he found it hard since his eyes felt like they were iced over. The night sky hung over his head, the stars shining crystal diamonds and casting a beautiful canvas across the land and ready to painted. Taking a deep breath, his body feeling cold from top to bottom, he decided he would finish the work in the morning.

He dragged the spade to the cabin, his legs shaking from the cold and exertion. He shook his hooves once he got onto the wooden porch and felt his legs tingle from the excess cold. Placing the spade along the wall he went inside the cabin, the cold air leaving him when he closed the door behind him. He went to the kitchen and spotted the sink nearby.

The sink was similar in look to Equestrian designs, with a large metal tub inside and what appeared to be some sort of pump next to it. It was an interesting design due to the faucet being in the shape of a Gryphon. He began pumping, the water coming out of the Gryphon’s mouth and into the sink. The sink filled quickly enough and he began to place his weary hooves into the water. The water was surprisingly warm to the touch. His cold hooves, which felt like ice from the outside, quickly eased into the warm water and he sighed with much content.

He looked in front of him and saw a silver mirror. It was a medium sized mirror, with a small, weaving design along the edges. He saw his own reflection and he looked rather haggard, if not quite horrid from his work. He had bags under his eyes and his eyes were red, though not close to bloodshot. He closed his eyes and sighed, taking in the warmth the water brought to him.

You’re a fool!

The voice returned, only louder this time. Quicksilver opened his eyes and his head whipped up to look what was in front of him. He saw his own reflection, but his reflection had a scowl upon his face.

They are your enemy! Don’t you see that!? his mirror image spoke to him, pointing a hoof at him in accusation.

“I only...I only did what was right,” he replied. He blinked a few times, trying to see if what he was seeing was real.

You did what was right? the voice said in a condescending tone, You think it was right when your father was impaled? Do you know how many families have been torn apart by this damn war!?

“Too many to even describe,” Quicksilver relented, his eyes looking downward.

Don’t you ignore me! Can you really cast aside their guilt so easily? Can you really ignore the atrocities they committed on our homeland? Our people and our culture! the voice accused. His voice was icy and cold with each word spoken. Quicksilver tried to ignore it, suppressing the evil voice as best he could.

I think that hen you called a friend has not been given enough of a burden, if not punishment.

Quicksilver stared back at the reflection in the mirror, an anger growing in his eyes.

“Keep her out of this! She deserved none of this!” he shouted back.

Oh, don’t be the coy one. You always had resentment for Gryphons and you always will. Gretchen is no different.

“The only difference between me and you is your hatred! Bigotry and utter resentment is what separates us!” Quicksilver shouted back.

His mirror image gave a dismissive wave. After all that has happened, you still believe we can get along? Because of a few needless deaths, you suddenly feel for these beasts?

“You’re the one without a heart! You don’t even consider them creatures at all!” Quicksilver countered.

As they should be! the voice replied, smacking its hoof against the glass.

Quicksilver stared at his other self, seeing the burning hatred in his reflections eyes. He did have frustration and at times distrustful hatred, but this other side of him was not what he expected.

This was just pure rage.

The course of events that had lead up to this moment, all the hardships he had endured during their stay.

However, he didn’t have to go in alone.

Ebon, Deadeye, Felix, even the minotaur Ironhide helped him in his dire need.

But more then anypony else, Gretchen had helped him the most. And hearing her name be disparaged burned a true rage within his heart.

“You will be silent. I’m not holier than thou of Gretchen or any of her kin. I am not some warmonger who threatens and lies against good people, and I am certainly not some barbaric animal who uses force to get what he wants. So spare these thoughts from my mind. Never will I ever consider that she is a threat to me, or to anypony else. For she is far different than you know,” he said with firm conviction. His heart seemed to accelerate from that, and yet he did not fear nor deter from it. What he was feeling was true.

You can’t possibly think such things. For she is not-

“Shut up!” Quicksilver punched his hoof straight into the silver mirror, fracturing the glass into multiple sections, yet it still held its frame. “You know nothing of Gretchen! She means more to me than you know!” Quicksilver removed his hoof off the glass, ready to launch another punch. However, once he pulled back, he froze when he saw multiple versions of not only himself but of the Gryphons he wanted to bury.

“She’s not worth it!”

“She is refuse!”

“Go back to where you came!”

“You are not welcome in this house!”

“Pegasus filth!”

The multitude of voices all screamed and raved at Quicksilver. His eyes darted everywhere, to every Gryphon and all those who mocked and scorned him. They shouted and cursed, screaming wild obscenities and belittling him.

Why do you think that she is special?! the voice shouted at him, his image appearing over each of the fragments of the mirror and encompassing everything in front of him.

“She’s… she’s...” Quicksilver tried to speak, but his mind drew a blank. His double image was appearing on the Gryphon’s faces, making them disappear and reappear as his own. Each one had a look of disgust and hateful gaze upon him, and they continued to shout him down and silence his voice.

She’s what? Tell me why you care for her! Why do you care for her, for Quill, and or for her family?! the voice shouted. Quicksilver’s ears folded back, his mirror image engulfing the entire glass and ready to burst out.

C,mon tell me! the voice demanded.

A feeling stirred within him. A feeling so deep in his heart that he knew it was true and pure from all others.

What he truly felt.

Tell me!

Quicksilver closed his eyes and looked down, the feeling in his heart ready to burst and break out of him.

TELL ME!

“It’s because I love her!” Quicksilver screamed out. His voice felt like thunder within the home. The voice was suddenly silent, replaced with a calmness in the wind. Quicksilver still had his eyes closed, and his heart felt relief from revealing what was within him.

“I love her. I don’t care what you say or what you may think, but my own heart feels otherwise!” he began, his hooves trembling with each word shaky like a sinner confessing to a crime. “Like me, she has suffered so much and endured many hardships. But it’s not just that. She helped me when I needed it most! Through her I was able to understand more about her life and her people. Her rich culture and history. I’ve grown fond of it, and through them I've grown fond of her!” He felt tears in his eyes, which fell down his muzzle and splashed into the open sink below.

“I’ve grown fond of how she talks, how she takes life with ease and how she manages to warm my heart whenever I hear her voice. Her pristine feathers are so bright that it just takes my breath away from seeing them when she is in flight.” Quicksilver raised his head, staring back at his other self. “Even if we can’t be together, I still will not allow her to face the same fate as her uncle, and I will do whatever I have in my power to keep her safe! That is why I care! For she is worth fighting for!”

His opposite in the mirror was stunned, still staring back at him as if he had gone mad. Quicksilver kept a firm gaze upon him, not relenting after telling the truth within his heart. For a moment the two stared in silence, trapped in a endless lock that would only end when one of them blinked.

His opposite was the first to break.

And he smiled at him.

I guess that is how you feel,” his double said back at him, his mood relaxed and his body eased from the tension. Quicksilver curled a brow. His other self leaned forward, peeling himself away from the mirror to materialize in front of him. He stared Quicksilver straight in the eye and a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“You hold onto that promise of yours. With true feelings like that, you can sway many to your side. Including her heart.” His double leaned forward and pressed his head against him, and Quicksilver blinked from the contact.

His eyes widened, and he found his muzzle and cheek halfway into the sink. He raised his head from the water, the liquid dribbling off his cheeks and down his chin. He quickly gave a shake of any excess water on his face and rubbed a hoof over his muzzle. He stared in front of him and he saw the same silver mirror, but whole just as before.

“Was that just a dream?” he said softly to himself. He backed away from the sink and kept staring at his own reflection in the mirror, thinking by some chance that something else would happen. Nothing came of it, and he remained ever confused. Taking a deep breath, he moved back towards the staircase and headed to the room Gretchen was in. As he walked, a strange niggling feeling came over him.

Did I truly say that I love her in my dream? he thought, the raw emotion still lingering heavy on his mind. He had always considered her a true friend, even if they had their differences, and both had a mutual respect for each other. But the mere thought of love made his knees buckle. Did he truly have deeper feelings for Gretchen? Did he truly believe his feelings were real and not conjured up by that dream? While his heavy hooves climbed up the staircase to the second floor, the burning question still remained.

He went to the bedroom, pushing the door softly so as to not disturb Gretchen. He saw the fire was low in its hearth; many hours had passed since he had taken up the task to carry the dead and dig the single grave. Gretchen was still asleep on the bed, the thick blanket still covering her body. He felt his heart relax that she was there and safe. He moved forward, the wood creaked with each step of his hooves beneath him. He grabbed a few more logs for the low hearth and placed them over the embers, renewing the fire within and casting its warm light across the room. Quicksilver turned to face Gretchen, who remained asleep underneath her comforter, still clutching the music box to her side. He instinctively went over and entered in the corner of the bed just behind Gretchen. He sat there for a moment, still watching her sleeping form. A flutter grew in his heart, yet he did not have an answer as to why. He gave a small chuckle and placed a hoof onto the comforter.

I guess I can sort out my feelings with her later, he thought, pushing the comforter back and laying behind Gretchen. She shuddered and he noticed her face narrow slightly in discomfort from the warmth leaving her. She curled inward, giving more room for Quicksilver to wrap his hooves around her. He stretched his right wing, wincing a little from the pain, before settling over her body. He brought her close and would remain there for the rest of the night. He would give a subtle smile when he saw her face ease and he was able to get to sleep.

I hope when the time comes I can share my feelings with you were his last thoughts before he drifted off to sleep.


Morning came more quickly then it should, or at least quicker than Quicksilver thought it should. He opened his eyes, his vision blurry and his eyes yelling back at him to sleep. He wanted to do so, but he cast a glance down to the sleeping Gryphon, who still sat idle in that same position. He could see a soft light enter the room from the window behind him. He raised his head, feeling heavy and worn out beyond measure. He groaned slightly, but it did not stir Gretchen in her sleep. He yawned like a cat and lifted his wing off of Gretchen’s body, the movement causing Gretchen to curl up from the heat leaving her.

I feel like I only slept for three or four hours, he inwardly moaned. He looked down at the sleeping hen, surprised at how much of a heavy sleeper she was. He wondered if all the excitement from yesterday had tired her out, both physically and spiritually. He observed the fire had finally died out, nothing but ash and little cinders remaining. He wanted to lie down and get that extra amount of sleep, but his mind lingered to what else was in this cabin.

The General needed to be laid to rest.

He gently got out of the bed, being sure not to disturb her. Once off the bed he took a look at her, seeing that she was peacefully asleep and had not moved since she laid there. He smiled, placing a hoof onto her shoulder and holding it there for a brief moment. She stirred by his touch but did not wake. Letting go he turned toward the door and headed towards the General's room. While heading to the door he slowly collected himself, ready to do what needed to be done.

He opened the door into the General’s room, seeing everything had been left untouched. He looked out the window and it was clear outside, not dark nor dreary like he’d normally see. Snow piled near the window but it didn’t matter much. He turned his gaze upon the body, seeing General Quill still there since they first found him. Quicksilver leaned down, seeing the bolt still embedded in his head. He leaned down, a hoof hovering over the bolt. He carefully placed his left hoof underneath the General’s head, propping him as he worked on getting it out.

“Forgive me,” he said, slowly pulling on the bolt. It resisted him at first, the bolt embedded deep into his head. The bolt was smaller than a standard arrow, but short which made it difficult to snap it in two. He’d done these sort of things before with his own soldiers, breaking the shaft and pulling the arrow out of the body. It was more tedious due to its size, and not knowing if it was stuck in his skull made the procedure all the more challenging. He also didn’t wish to twist or turn the bolt, wanting to keep his head intact as best as he could.

Inch by careful inch, the bolt eventually became loose, pulling away from the muscles and the bone. Quicksilver tightened his grip, pulling the bolt at a gentle pace, until the bolt came out with ease. He looked at the bolt, and saw it had a standard design. Where the wood ended the shaft of the bolt narrowed down until it spread out into a oval shape before ending into narrow point. He placed the bolt on the side to see the damage. A trickle of blood came out of General Quill’s head, but it didn’t bleed or spurt once removed.

His body would be too cold for that to happen.

Knowing that part was finished, Quicksilver moved into a favorable position until he could grab the general by the arm and hoist him onto his back. He tenderly grasped him, careful not to make his body hit anything on the way up. After about a minute of work, he had the general’s body on his back, carefully held so that he wouldn't fall.

Quicksilver made his way out of the room, the wood creaking with each heavy step he took. He continued his pace all the way to the stairs, not caring if the noise would stir Gretchen. He carefully went down the stairs, making sure every step would not jostle the body and make him fall off his back. When he walked into the main room he settled the general onto the rug, carefully positioning his head onto the floor. Once done, he folded both of his claws until they interlaced and settled just below his chest.

Finished with the positioning of the body, Quicksilver took a small look at the the former general. He was idle on his back and resting comfortably, not a care left in the world. In a strange way, he almost looked like he was smiling from the way he laid. Quicksilver looked down, observing where Quill’s talons interlocked. He then realized that he would be probably want to be buried with his weapon. He recalled it being next to his armor, and he turned to the stairs.

Only to find Gretchen standing at the bottom of the steps.

“Gretchen,” he said, surprised.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her golden eyes boring into his own. He blinked a few times, looking down at the body of her uncle before looking back at her. She followed his gaze and saw her uncle lying on the ground.

“What are you doing, Fletching?” she asked once more, more sternly then before.

“I was… I was wanting to give your uncle a proper burial,” he explained, looking down at the body before him. “I didn’t want him to be left for the wolves or to rot in his own home.” He looked back at Gretchen, who still gave him a critical eye. Swallowing the lump in his throat he continued. “I know how stressed you were; his loss has reminded you of your own parents. I guess I’m in the same boat with you in that I never got a chance to be with my parents. I know you might be upset, if there is some custom that I don’t know about, but I just wanted to do this, for him. I didn’t want you to go through… no… I didn’t want you to suffer, Gretchen...” He tried to explain, struggling to get the words out.

Gretchen’s eyes widened, the tip of her feathers rising up in clear agitation. She began walking towards him and picking up speed. Quicksilver, seeing the oncoming hen, closed his eyes and braced himself for the oncoming pummeling.

What he didn’t expect was her arms to wrap around his frame and her wings to envelop him in a hug.

Quicksilver blinked in surprise.

He turned to her, seeing her smiling and tears streaming down her face. After a moment of silence, she sniffled and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder and into his neck, causing a small blush to appear on his countenance.

“Thank you… you don’t know how much this means to me and my uncle,” she said, still sniveling and rubbing her feathers into him. He still blushed when she did this and was thankful that she didn’t see his face. Particularly when he thought it was nice when her feathers tickled his muzzle and cheek. He tried burying that thought into the back of his mind until she eventually backed away from him.

“Let me help. I know of a sheet to wrap him in,” she said. He nodded to her and she went to another part of the cabin. He went back up the stairs to gather the sword and armor of General Quill. It took him a minute or two to gather his things, but while he got the general’s equipment, his mind was still set on Gretchen.

Why did she hug me that way? Why was she so casual about the whole thing?

He went back down the stairs, carrying the armor on his back and the sword & scabbard in his mouth. He soon went in the living room, spotting Gretchen unfurl a large white sheet over the main living room. Quicksilver settled the equipment onto the floor. Gretchen turned to see her uncle’s possessions, then looked back to him.

“Can you help me, Fletching?” she asked, gesturing to her uncle. He nodded and without a word went to the legs of the general. Gretchen placed herself near his head, wrapping her talons around his head and shoulders and tenderly lifting him up. Quicksilver grabbed his legs and lifted the old general onto the fabric. Gretchen was a little slower then Quicksilver, for once she settled her uncle onto the fabric she held his head and kept her posture there. She gently rubbed her talons through her uncle’s feathers, gently caressing the side of his cheek. One of her talons pressed against his fatal wound, and her eyes closed in deep thought.

“Fletching, can you grab a wet cloth from the sink please?” she said softly. Quicksilver obliged while she stayed there. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a nearby cloth that sat on the counter. He placed it into the water and made sure it was completely wet. Taking it out and drying it with his hoof to get as much excess water out. He made his way back into the living room and to Gretchen’s side, where she remained holding her uncle in her talons. When he was close to her side, she looked up and saw the wet cloth in his hoof.

“Thank you,” she said, grabbing it and beginning to gently clean the sides her uncle’s face, cleaning up the dry blood that had accumulated. With every gentle swipe, the dry blood washed away and would soon leave just the hole in his head.

How strong she was in this moment, even after the loss of such a great life.

While Gretchen tended to the final cleanings, Quicksilver cast his gaze to the general’s chest, seeing the medallion hang off his neck and the Gryphon claw glimmering in the faint light. He kneeled down, clasping the medallion with his hoof and bringing it up into the light. The Gryphon claw was still in the center, shining slightly in the morning light outside. He held onto it tighter, knowing this medallion was the key to prove of Gretchen’s family of their innocence over what King Bronzeclaw has done.

Without a word, he slowly pulled it off his neck and settled it onto the nearby couch..

Gretchen took notice of his action but did not say a word to him. Instead, her attention remained on cleaning the small wound on her uncle’s temple. After another minute of cleaning, she settled the cloth to the side and inspected the wound. It was completely clear of blood, despite the small hole that remained. She then lowered her head until she pressed it against her uncle’s brow. She closed her eyes and whispered so softly that Quicksilver could barely catch the words.

“Go now to your forefathers…. for they await you upon the open skies,” she said, keeping herself there for a few moments longer. She kissed his forehead and then stared Quicksilver in the eye. She nodded to him while her claws went to grab at the edges of the sheet. Silently the two began to wrap the sheet around his body, tucking in every corner around his form. While Quicksilver ensured that every spot was covered, a single thought came into his mind: He was imagining that he was burying his own father.

He had to repress a shudder from such a thought, for if he allowed it, he would no doubt be shedding tears that he didn’t know if he could stop.

After Quill’s lower half was covered, Quicksilver saw Gretchen finish covering her uncle’s chest. She was at first hesitant to wrap the cover around her uncle’s head, but reluctantly pulled the cover over his skull. She gently tucked in every edge of the sheet, ensuring that it was tight and would not part when she moved him. She stood up, moving to his side and bending down. Quicksilver backed away as she placed both of her claws underneath his frame, lifting up the body of the former general. He looked up to her as she stood at her full height, carrying her uncle in both talons and her wings extending to keep herself balanced. She stared out the front door, and Quicksilver already knew what was next.

He went to grab the armor and the sword, but stopped when she shook her head.

“You can leave those, Fletching.” Her words were calm and showed no anger. He nodded, heading to the front door and opened it up for her. Gretchen wordlessly moved forward, a grim determination that she must bury him. Quicksilver could see that she was already ready to weep again, and he couldn’t blame her for the state that she was in. She moved past him and Quicksilver quickly followed, grabbing the spade on the way out. He walked by her side, heading to the open grave.

He looked out and saw the light was slowly rising up over the sky, with the clouds around them starting to disperse. He saw Gretchen look upon the line of bodies of the dead Nomads. Her eyes were wide, but she did not say anything and kept walking. She cast her gaze at him, and he could only wonder what was going on in her mind. He soon kept his gaze forward until he came upon the open grave, which had not been touched since he had dug it open hours ago.

“Gretchen?” he asked, turning to her as she stopped before the grave. She looked at him, and he could see her eyes becoming red and ready to burst with fresh tears. Even though she was holding onto her uncle’s body she still managed to hold herself upright. He took a step forward and placed a hoof on General’s Quill’s chest, feeling a lifeless body underneath the sheets. He could imagine that is where everyone would end up in the end, to go away while the youth would grow up to carry on their legacies. He stayed there for a moment, a part of himself not wanting to let his hoof off the body, before eventually letting go. Gretchen lifted the body, once again pressing her head against his, before going to the open grave. She gently lowered his body into the earth, her body shaking. Once settled she slowly stood up, standing over the grave and tears already breaking through her countenance.

A part of Quicksilver wanted to go up to her and comfort her as best as he could. However he remained still, the spade still in hoof and ready to bury the body. Gretchen remained staring at the grave and her uncle laid within. She then turned to Quicksilver, a few tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Okay,” she said. With that, he plowed the spade into the mound of dirt.

He began to cover the body, the dirt and snow filling quickly as he worked. He didn’t mind being the grave digger, and it kept his mind focused while Gretchen remained where she was. With every patch of earth tossed into the grave, the harder it seemed for Quicksilver. Listening to him speak, discussing their lives and families, and reading his journal made Quicksilver feel a deep link between them.

Now that he was gone, he felt he had to cut it off forever.

When he was halfway through burying General Quill, he took notice that Gretchen had left to her own devices. He paid no heed, deciding to keep burying the body while she was off grieving for her uncle. After what felt like an hour (when it really took only thirty minutes), he had finished burying the body, leaving nothing but a large mound to cover the unmarked grave. His muscles were sore, and he drew a deep breath of relief from the hard work. He closed his eyes and his mind took in his surroundings.

He could hear the wind gently blow around him. The sound of the air brushing against the tallest trees and creating a deep noise that was all too familiar. He felt a bit of light of the sun creeping over the mountain, casting its glow onto his back and giving him warmth. It was gentle and welcoming, filling his weary bones with great relief. He opened his eyes to the grave before him.

Only to find a shadow cast over him.

He looked up in surprise when he saw Gretchen flapping her wings above him and holding onto a large stone. She descended down until she placed the stone at the head of the grave, marking it for any fortunate traveler to see. She held her claws over the stone, which was roughly twice the size of his own head. She then took her right claw over it’s surface and began scratching into the rock. Quicksilver watched as she did this several times, each swipe of talon making the gashes deep in the makeshift headstone. It took her nearly a minute, but after she was done she backed away from the grave and sat on her haunches, taking deep, if not labored, breaths.

Quicksilver stood there, watching as she looked over the grave, her sullen eyes filled with much sadness and grief. He could see her body shaking and her head dipped low in clear agony. He wanted to go next to her, his first thought wanting nothing more then to go to her side and wrap a wing around her body. However, a second thought immediately came in, telling him to stay aside, wanting to give her space. He took notice when Gretchen raised a talon and placed a claw over her face, shedding much tears over her loss.

To hell with him waiting.

Quicksilver, after listening to the first prompting, went forward, unfurling his right wing until it would go to its farthest extent. Once he was by her side, he wrapped his hurt wing around her and pulling her close as best as he could, even if it pained his wing in the process. Her crying stopped and she shuddered from the contact of his feathers brushing against her back. She looked up to him, seeing a compassionate expression emanating from him. She stayed like that for a moment, and he wondered if he had asserted himself too far.

She instead smiled back and rubbed her head straight into his chest.

He blinked in surprise, his heart nearly jumping from the initial contact. However, he soon eased a little when she leaned further into him and accepted his hug. He felt her left claw trace up his right shoulder blade and over some of his feathers before resting onto his left shoulder. She pulled him in close and he nearly shivered from her touch. It alleviated his worry when she gave a soft sigh of content.

“Fletching…I...Thank you, thank you,” she said softly, her eyes still shut. He responded by closing his eyes and drawing his wing closer, pulling her in as best his injury would allow. For a time the two sat in silence, their only companion was themselves and the wind that gently blew around them. Nothing disturbed them, nothing threatened them. Time slipped by for what felt like hours and they didn’t move from their spot. All was calm. A peaceful moment in honoring a once great life of General Quill.

It was just the two of them on the mountainside, and he was alright with this.

The sun was casting its light upon the land, and he felt the warmth soothe him and Gretchen. Quicksilver parted an eye open, looking out to the the distant horizon. His eyes widened and he looked out with a new perspective, seeing the clouds spread out and allowing a full view of the valley below.

What he saw next took his breath away.

He had a clear view of the mountain ranges that stretched out for miles on end into the distant north. Below, he could see a valley stretching out from one end of the mountains to the other. Everywhere he looked, the ancient mountains were covered in a blanket of snow and had not been disturbed, showing the unexplored regions and mountain ranges that any explorer or artist would wish to see. From the valley floor was a frozen river, the ice reflecting up into the sky. He focused his eyes westward and he saw the mountains part, stretching out to the open fields and flat landscapes of Prance, with the snow reflecting the sun and making them shine like starlight. He imagined that Prancy was just on the horizon, ready to take him home.

However, all that he could take in was the sights before him, and Gretchen held close by his side. For the briefest of moments, for the small hint of content life he wished to have, he thought of himself and Gretchen being together. Close to each other the way they are now, and living a long and fulfilling life. The body of General Quill taken and moved to a better and more suitable terrain for burial. A new cabin built upon the rolling hills, far from any village or town. The gentleness of a cool downpour of fresh rain, gentling caressing them as it fell to the earth. She would nestle into him and he would wrap his healed wing around her like he is doing now, and the two would be watching down to the new grave, knowing in their heart that he was in a better place.

A part of him also believed that her uncle was up there in the great sky. Watching over them as they remembered his memory.

He blinked once, the moment of a happy and natural peace fading from sight and the image of the new cabin and home soon following. He turned his gaze down to Gretchen, seeing her open her own eyes to stare out the valley below and take in the land that was her home.

Did I really just think that? he thought, still seeing Gretchen look out and a small hint of a smile spreading across her face. She took a deep breath, sighing in great relief as if a burden was thrown off her shoulders. She then turned her gaze upward to look up at Quicksilver, their eyes locking together. Her smile rose a little higher, and she wiped a tear out of her glistening eyes.

“Fletching,” she said, her voice soft and humble. Quicksilver leaned his head forward, wanting to hear what she had to say.

“Yes, Gretchen?” he asked, feeling the urge to wrap his hooves around her frame, to show the love and comfort that he was feeling within him.

“You smell like an old campfire and sweat.”

Quicksilver blinked at her. Taken aback by her sudden change of tone. Out of instinct he lifted his left hoof up and took a small whiff of his pit, his nose scrunch up slightly from the unpleasant smell.

“You’re right,” he said. Gretchen chuckled lightly. She leaned into him, seemingly not bothered by his stench.

“I know of a place that we can both get cleaned up,” she said.

Quicksilver chuckled in response. “I’ve not had a decent cleaning in a long time,” he said.

Gretchen smirked at him in response. “I think it might have been longer for me. Not a proper preening or a bath since I’ve been in our camp,” she replied, causing him to snigger in response.

“Well, I guess we both need a bird bath.”

The two let out a chuckle, their mirth carrying across the mountains and into the valley below. After he calmed down enough, he looked to the line of bodies of the dead Nomads and his smile lowered.

“We still got to bury all of them,” he said in a mournful tone. Gretchen followed his gaze, her own smile fading as well.

“Even if they are enemies, they still deserve a better fate,” she said, shaking her head. “For a warrior’s death, the custom would be to be burn their bodies, their ashes carried by the wind across this mountain,” she explained. Another interesting custom that Quicksilver had heard before, if not similar to what Equestria would do many years prior to its founding.

“If you want, I can do this now and see it done, if you need some time to…”

“No, that's fine. I can help you out… it will go by faster,” she interjected, turning her gaze back to him and her little grin raising all the more higher. “Besides, you really need that bath.”


Ebon was still as he sat near the low ember of the fire. Behind him laid the ruined tent of their mess and supply tent, which had provided quality food and enough rations to last them for months. Ever since it was put to the torch, some of the supplies they saved had begun to run foul. The only best day that they had was having two small course meals a day, before soon rationing out their meals with everyone else. There were even a few occasions they would have a thief come and steal an extra helping for themselves. They were disciplined for their actions, but he would not kill them. For he needed every Gryphon alive if they wanted to survive in this land. Despite the drop of morale with the food, everything was still pretty much normal. Every Gryphon around him was busy with their daily dealings or training in their regiments. Just like every other day they were here in this fort.

However, he was going to change that.

Ever since his uncle’s departure, he remained vigilant and kept his warriors at the ready for any confrontation or raid that Sharp Beak would unleash upon them. Yet, as every day passed and no force was seen, it started to worry him that they had up and left, figuring enough damage had been done to this camp already. His warriors were getting on edge, the wounded still hungering for vengeance and they were all restless in acting upon anything to set their minds at ease. He was in the same boat as his companions, and he too sought vengeance against Sharp Beak. But most of all, he wished nothing more then go after that pegasus who stole his sister away from his side.

He waited enough already and he would wait no longer.

“Ebon,” his brother Deadeye spoke to him. He glanced to his left and spotted his brother coming towards him, along with a Buck Wing and the few remaining officers that were under him. “I’ve brought them here as you requested, through Felix apologizes for not being here. He has been tied up with caring for the wounded.” Ebon nodded, understanding that Felix had much to do in caring for everyone.

He was a good Gryphon through and through.

Seeing the five remaining captains that were under him. Two of them were Nobles, Buck Wing who was brought here with his uncle, and a older Gryphon by the name of Stormrage, who had a distinguished armor that made him part of the Razor Claw Brigade. He had much experience in fighting under the brigade and was currently the sub-commander for the brigade itself. Though he knew he was the commander of this fort, Stormrage would no doubt be helpful in getting them sorted into formations. The three remaining officers were all Nomads, but they’d made the decision to abandon King Bronzeclaw.

Lieutenant Josef Blade was the youngest to ever receive the rank of officer, and was currently being considered to the office of captain by his fellow Nomads. However, while him leaving and deserting the main army would no doubt be bad for his name, he saw within the King’s black heart for what he did to his soldiers.

The final two Nomads, Major Crimson Dawn and Captain Jurgen Dawn, were both twins and had been serving proudly in the military for most of their distinguished lives. Despite their ranks, they both followed under his rule. They too were also liked by the higher chain of command, but they turned down the roles of serving in the higher ranks, preferably wanting to be with their troops and ensuring that they were kept safe and making the right calls before advancing on enemy positions. They had been part of the fight longer then he had.

With the officers in order and the time right, Ebon knew he had to get things done. He slowly stood up, stretching his wings before looking at his fellow officers.

“I know you wouldn't have been gathered here unless it was for good reason. Much time has passed since the coup and the state of this camp needs to be addressed if the time comes that we need to leave,” he stated and the fellow officers looked at one another. When none made a reply he turned to the senior officer, “Buck Wing, what is the status of our supplies? Will we have enough?”

“The supplies are low, if you want my honest opinion. The main goods that we generally have are burnt from the fire, and we are limited to dishing out one meal a day. At this rate, and with the many mouths to feed, we will only last a month or two. Give or take that they don’t go bad within the next few weeks,” he said.

Ebon nodded. He then turned his attention to the the twins. “How are the soldiers? How many are still able to stand and take up the blade? I want a full account of their health,” he said.

Crimson was the first to speak up. “The original forces from the main army are still in good health. All three hundred and twenty individuals are still being checked on, but the loss of their personal officers have really put a dent in their morale. Still can’t believe that so many were taken.”

His brother Jurgen came forward. “The ambush from Colonel Sharp Beak has hurt many of our brothers, but all of them are still in fighting shape. Though I can’t say for certain about their wounds. Most are willing to fight, but some still can’t fly. Including a few of ‘those’ Gryphons,” he explained.

Ebon looked down in shame. Fifteen officers were killed in the bloody fight, and the ones here were all that was left. He soon turned to Josef Blade, the young beige Gryphon who looked at the ground in thought. He only stirred when he saw the eyes land on him.

“Josef. How many do we have? How many are still with us in keeping the fight?” he asked, watching the young lieutenant shift nervously. He sighed and took a step towards him. “You’re not being judged here. You can speak freely,” he said in reassurance.

Josef looked up to him and nodded.

“After the battle, sir, we have lost one hundred and thirty soldiers from the coup. Most have been injured, but it is mostly smaller wounds that have been treated. As for the rest of the numbers, we have the three hundred and twenty soldiers that are still here. Along with your forces that remain of this camp, you have around eighty warriors that remain from the original two hundred garrison. With the Razor Claws, we only have two hundred remaining of their once proud brigade. We also can account for the Minotaur mercenaries that still remain a strong sixty two. They are few, but they have the strength of ten Gryphons to fight at our side.”

“If they are half as strong as their leader, then our enemies be doomed,” Deadeye interjected, causing a few of the officers to chortle at the response. Their leader Ironhide was no doubt a force to be reckoned with, and Ebon was glad he was on their side. That is, until the contract under them ends.

Undeterred, Josef continued on with his report. “All in all we have six hundred and sixty two soldiers who are still in fighting fit condition. All of them are ready for travel, if need be,” he said, still standing at attention to his superior.

“More than half of a standard regiment, and just around the right size for a battalion, but it is enough to hold a castle back from any invaders,” Stormrage said, tracing a claw to his chin in deep thought. “Though no doubt we will make a strong impact should the need to arrive to move out,” he said.

Ebon nodded. “Which is exactly that,” he said, causing the officers to turn to him. “My fellow Gryphons, with the current situation of our camp and the enemy no doubt out there waiting for us, we have to leave the mountains and head to Prancy,” he explained. The officers all looked at him, a few weary of the thought of leaving the fortified position of the mountains.

“But sir, we don’t know where the enemy might try and ambush us. Even if we did get to Prancy, what chance do we have in facing off against the enemy?” Josef protested, though he was quickly silenced when Ebon stared at him.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to step out of line,” he said.

Ebon tilted his head to him. “There is no need, but I understand your concern. However, I feel it is the right time to move out and attempt to link up with the main army. Not to fight with them, but to convince our brethren among the back lines to escape. We must do what we can to make them understand the folly of this campaign and regroup them back to Gryphonstone. From there, we wait out until winter is over and hopefully see what comes next and if the war turns for good or ill,” he explained, and to his relief all of the officers were in agreement for it. It got them a chance to get up and do something other than be cooped up here.

“If you wish, we can get the army moving within the hour and be ready to march out of the mountains,” Crimson Dawn said.

“We will make sure the wounded are given a chance to be helped out as well for the long haul,” Jurgen followed up.

Ebon nodded to them both and cast one last look among the officers. “If everyone is in agreement, then we shall make for Prancy. Summon the soldiers, and get the word we’ll be leaving within the hour,” he said.

All of the officers save his brother Deadeye went off their separate ways, leaving the two brothers to themselves. After they were gone, Deadeye turned to his elder brother.

“That is not the only reason why you want to move out, Ebon,” Deadeye stated.

“I know,” he said, marching towards his tent to gather his things, Deadeye following close at his side. Up ahead he noticed the bull Ironhide was stationed nearby, using a whetstone to clean his weapon.

“Gretchen is still out there, and your plan is to take everyone in searching for her, not just go to Prancy.”

“If the pegasus had any intention of leaving the mountains, the only habitable city for miles is Prancy. No doubt he will be there and if we find him, we find our sister.”

“Ebon, you know this is dangerous. She could be anywhere at this point. For all we know, she might be at least several leagues out by now. I worry for her too, but the safety of this garrison and our fellow brethren have more precedent. They need our attention, even when she may as very well be killed by some-”

“Deadeye! I know what I am doing,” Ebon snapped, glaring at his younger sibling. Deadeye remained silent, yet his gaze never wavering. Ebon snorted in frustration and turned to his tent before him.

“She is still out there, and everyday I worry for her safety. If by some small chance that she is still alive then I will find her, even if I must go to the ends of Mother Earth herself. Trust me, brother, I know what must be done, and I will see to it that she is safe. The time for idleness is over,” he said, taking a step towards his tent and ready to get moving.

Deadeye remained where he was, not bothering to go after him. Ebon didn’t care. His own pride and honor was at stake, and he would not forsake it.

He would see his sister again, one way or the other.

As he moved, he slowly approached Ironhide, who was studiously wiping the whetstone down his sword. The blade hummed a tune whenever he wiped it down, sending small sparks from the edges of the stone. He had seen many fine weapons in his life, though some did not compare to what he had before him. The giant broadsword could easily cut through slabs of thick meat like they were paper and would no doubt cleave a Gryphon’s body in two. The Minotaur behind the weapon remained steady at his task, sharpening the blade to it’s deadliest capacity. He marched past him, knowing he will need their strength in the coming days.

“You’re scared.” A deep ghost of a whisper forced Ebon to stop in his tracks. He whirled around, staring at Ironhide who remained where he was.

“You say something?” he asked, almost seething from the comment. Ironhide stopped in his work, his beady eyes turning to look down at him. He was silent and said nothing, still holding onto his sword and whetstone. The two remained that way for a moment longer before Ironhide turned back to his work and continued to sharpen his blade, the sword shimmering from every brush that glided down its sheen.

“I must be hearing things,” Ebon said to himself. He turned away, leaving the bull to his work while he went to gather his gear.

Within a few hours, he and the entire Gryphon encampment would be packed up and leave for the edge of High Talon Mountains. A single goal was embedded in his mind, and he would see it through to the end.

“Hold on, sister. Your brother will find you,”


Hammer was sweating like a dog. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. His hooves were bent at the knees and he was pushing against a heavy boulder on top of him. His breathing was steady, but every moment he held the boulder, the harder it became to keep his focus. He closed his eyes, the boulder lowering from him laxing.

“C,mon, Hammer! You can do it!” Anvil shouted nearby, and the encouragement was all he needed to push forward. With a renewed surge of energy, he pushed the boulder upward, his muscles tensing as each fiber of his body protested, but he endured and kept pushing up. With a final grunt, he pushed until his hooves were straight up, the boulder over his body as he smiled in victory.

“Fifty!” he shouted out, pushing the stone aside and allowing it to hit the ground with a thud. He stood there and felt exhausted from his exercise. Around him several ponies cheered by his accomplishment, and he slowly rolled over and stood back on all fours, covered in dirt and sweat. He looked down at the boulder and smiled.

It was an old custom by Earth Ponies. To exercise their forelegs and arms, they would push a heavy boulder up whilst laying upon their back. The reason being was when they need to buck trees or to push heavy boulders their strength can push them aside with a single shunt or a strong buck. It was said that it was Commander Hurricane, the military leader of the Pegasus during the founding, had came up with the idea to help ponies when they got to fight in hoof-to-hoof combat. Earth Ponies were more proficient in this, and since then have been using this in their daily routines, even using the exercise to keep their legs strong for any threat to their homes.

He looked to see the next stallion already going to the boulder and lifting it until he laid on his back and began to push it up and down. Around him, a few other stallions were doing the same thing, lifting similar boulders of the same size over their bodies. He even spotted a few Diamond Dogs doing the same thing. Instead of using their legs, they used their massive arms to push up the boulders. He chuckled a bit when he spotted a small Diamond Dog sitting on top of a boulder and the larger Diamond Dog underneath continuing to push it up and down.

Around him everyone was happy and going about their daily business: training, patrolling, and chatting up life stories. The Cervine were firing arrows into snow targets and continued to amaze Hammer with their skills. The grounds had been mostly been cleared of snow except for a few patches here and there, while wet dirt remained underneath them. It was also good since there had been no snow fall this morning and the skies had been mostly clear.

It was actually nice for once to see the sun again.

“C’mon Anvil, you can do it,” the enthusiastic voice of Swift Leaf called out. Hammer turned, seeing his friend starting his own training and lifting the boulder over his body and pushing it up. He had to admit he was far stronger then he was. The two would almost be equal in terms of strength, but ever since their injuries they had pushed past that and continued to train themselves hard. Hammer felt his own muscles be given new sense of relief as he gently stretched them out, particularly when he stretched his wounded shoulder. Day by day, he had felt its strength return, and he knew if he kept at it he would make use of his shoulder again.

“It would help if you would not have your hooves on the rock, Swift Leaf!” Anvil shouted out. Hammer stifled a chuckle as he spotted Swift Leaf’s hooves on top of the rock, holding it down as Anvil pushed up.

A part of him really wanted to see what would happen if Swift Leaf was sitting on the rock. The image left a hilarious mark on his mind.

“Oh, where is the fun in that? You can have a little extra pressure,” she said, her hooves pressing further onto the stone. Anvil’s face contorted slightly, but he still kept doing the exercise.

“Oh, this won’t be good if I end up being flattened. My face would puff out and my scars would stretch further than they already are,” he explained, his face still holding together as he did another push on the boulder. Swift Leaf then released her hooves and walked over to his head. He looked up at her and she beamed at him.

“I’m certain I can heal that,” she said, lowering her head to meet his own, her long hair blocking any view of what happened between their faces.

Hammer’s smile rose a little higher from their growing relationship.

“Even in war, love can blossom,” Hammer heard Strong Oak’s voice nearby. He turned to the Cervine leader, who handed him a small towel. He eagerly accepted and began to clean the sweat and grime off his body as best he could.

“I guess as the war winds down, everypony would be thinking about a family. I’m certainly thinking of one,” Hammer said, his warm thoughts thinking of Silverwing while finishing drying himself off.

Strong Oak went over his side, and a smile radiated off him. “I see that you fancy your captain. Care to share how such a bond formed?” Strong Oak asked.

Hammer smiled, looking down in a bit of embarrassment. “It’s actually a silly thing, really. You would find it rather ridiculous if I told you,” he explained.

Strong Oak chuckled, and leaned his head forward to meet his gaze. “What might make you think of it as ridiculous? There a plenty of stories and romances that start out in more sillier ways then you might think,” he said.

Hammer turned to him. “Oh? You know something that might be more strange occurrences then what I have done?” he asked.

The Cervine leader smiled, looking up to the skies in a moment of clarity. “Well, there was once a time when the young Prince of the Forest from ages past that had not found a suitable mate to call his own. It was much harder for him, for his father had made a rule involving his marriage. For if he booped his nose with any doe, then she would lawfully become his wife. There were many suitors, but none had the affection or care he was looking for. He was also extremely careful and precarious about certain does, for some had greed in their hearts and would have gone great lengths to boop his nose with their own.”

Hammer couldn’t help but chuckle at such a silly thing. It sounded like more of a romantic comedy if given the right characters. He remained silent as Strong Oak continued his tale.

“Saddened, he secluded himself in the flower gardens to ponder over his predicament. He took in his surroundings, thinking about life, why it would be important for him and his rule to his people. Another important thing he wanted was to have something that would best represent his house, which was a strong oak tree that was spread about the forest. His heart felt weary and he knew not how to proceed, his own imaginations for a better tomorrow and for the future leader of his people slipping away. In desperation, he went over to the nearest pile of lilies and thrust his nose into them, hoping that some miracle would give him inspiration.

“What he found instead was another nose booping his own. When his head rose, a small doe rose from the lilies. Auburn hair, cream colored coat, and her eyes that shined bright as the evening star. Embarrassed, the young doe apologized, saying she merely slept in the lilies because she was saddened. When he asked as to why, she explained that she had her coming of age ceremony, and yet only her parents had celebrated. All of her friends and loved ones had instead participated in the Prince’s celebration, and many a doe tried to court him by pressing their nose with his. She felt alone in that her feelings were ignored and hid in the gardens to cry.

“Humbled, and his heart filled with love for the doe, he picked her up out of the lilies and made her his wife. For she had shown that she had no greed in her heart. Like him, she had her own feelings neglected by others and wanted to share her same feelings with another like her. There was an uproar over his marriage, saying that she is a common doe. However, they could not deny the love they bore for one another.” He paused and showed Hammer a small banner that had a strong oak tree in the center, with several beautiful lilies sprouting around the base.

“This here is the symbol of our beloved nation, the flag that we wave across our ramparts for their love and dedication to her people. Such silly bonds or how they came to be is what makes our nation united and above all makes us strong,” he finished, allowing Hammer to marvel at the piece of cloth before him. He didn’t quite believe it, but his little story had tied into one of the strongest symbols within Cervine culture.

“Strong Oak, that was an amazing tale. I had no idea...” he said, a little lost for words.

Strong Oak chuckled at his response. He then leaned in, his smile never wavering. “Now, Corporal Hammer. How did you manage to be smitten by the fair Silverwing?” he asked, his face showing a calm yet patient look.

“Well, it all started when I registered for the army. I was eighteen at the time and my friend Anvil was just a year under me. He managed to convince the observers of his age before they allowed us to go through. Once we were in the training grounds, we continued to work hard and train in the basics of sword fights and spears. I had one such spear in my hoof and I got a little carried away. I tried to be fancy with it and spin it in the air, only for the back end of the spear to smack me in the nose,” he explained, slightly embarrassed. Strong Oak’s smile never wavered and he almost seem to chuckle at the explanation.

“My nose was bleeding and I believed I’d made the biggest fool of myself,” Hammer continued. “I was approached by this lovely mare who happened to care for me at the time. Turns out it was Silverwing, and she was already a few years older than I was. I believe she was twenty one and already a lieutenant at the time. She treated me, cared for me, and she cleaned my muzzle with a small kerchief of hers. After she was done, she left the kerchief with me and went on her way. After that incident, I started to feel infatuated with her. I always wanted to return the kerchief to her, but never had the chance to give it back. Since then my feelings for her have grown and I believe that my feelings...” he paused, seeing Silverwing exit out of her tent giving off a loud yawn from her rest.

“...Has become something more,” he finished.

Strong Oak inclined his head to him. “That is a rather silly story, but no doubt it will lead to a grander resolution,” he explained and patted a hoof onto his good shoulder. “I’m certain that she shares the same sentiment with you,” he explained, and a small blush appeared of his muzzle. He did confess to her several nights ago about his true feelings, but she had never said anything back to him. He only hoped that she did share those feelings with her.

“I see you two are chatting it up,” Silverwing approached them with a small smile on her face. Hammer eyed her, and his heart felt a flutter from seeing her. She has slept far longer this time around, and she looked more rejuvenated than ever before. It’s possible his words had helped her in more ways than one.

“Strong Oak has been enlightening me on some of his stories. I found them rather intriguing,” Hammer explained, and Strong Oak humbly nodded.

“That is good to know. I can also see one of my subordinates being rather intimate with Swift Leaf,” she pointed out and the two looked to see that Swift Leaf had booped her nose with Anvil, the latter giggling from the contact as he strained to hold the boulder. “I do hope they stay in touch when this war is over,” she said.

Strong Oak turned to her. “She will no doubt wish to return to her people, but if her heart is strong, then there is no doubt that she will stay with the one she cares for,” he said.

Hammer looked at him with a smile. “I take it there is no boundaries when it comes to love?” he asked.

Strong Oak chuckled. “Oh, there will be some opposition by some of my traditionalist brethren, but after awhile, there will be no doubt that their life will shine as brightly as the…” He paused, his ears flicking up into the air. “...Stars?” he twisted his head to the skies, his ears moving about in search of a noise.

“Strong Oak? What’s wrong?” Silverwing asked, looking to the sky as well.

“We don’t have a patrol of pegasus out in the air. If we did, they’d be scanning the skies from the East, and occasionally look to the south and northern regions of camp,” Hammer said.

“You are indeed correct, Corporal, and that they are pegasus,” Strong Oak stated as he looked up to the sky. “However, the ones I hear are from the west,” he explained. Both Silverwing and Hammer looked at each other in confusion.

“West?” they both said to one another. They looked up once again, seeing nothing but the mostly clear skies and a few scattered clouds ahead of them. A few more moments passed, the two still staring up into the sky and wondering what they were searching for. Until, they saw them.

Three pegasi flying behind the clouds and circling overhead.

“Are they from another unit?” Hammer asked, seeing the three slowly descend while circling the camp.

“No. Judging by their armor, they look like they are a part of the Royal Guard. Though they are descending rather quickly,” Silverwing observed.

While the three remained locked upon the new visitors descending over their heads, the entire camp become bustling and looked out to the approaching guards. Everypony who was doing anything had dropped what they were doing and came to see what was going on. Equines, Cervine and Diamond Dog alike all came out and looked to the sky to see what was happening. Soon the three hovered over the encampment, their powerful wings blowing the snow out of the way from where they landed.

Although, they almost collapsed from the moment they touched the ground.

Hammer, Silverwing and Strong Oak moved to the new equines and wondered who they are.

“Who’s in charge… of this encampment?” the lead guard spoke, his companions breathing heavily from their exertion of flight.

Silverwing soon stepped forward and raised a hoof to her chest. “I am. My name is Silverwing, Co-Captain of the Royal Guard,” she presented herself with authority and distinction. The three looked to one another and smiles were plastered over their faces.

“This is the last of them,” the guard on the right with an orange mane spoke out.

“The last group that is outside of Prancy,” the left guard with a striped-blue, indigo mane replied.

“Settle down, lads…Catch your breaths,” the lead guard spoke, catching his own breath in the process.

Hammer felt a tap on the shoulder and saw the camp’s cook hand him a wineskin. He nodded and took it, going to the lead guard before him. He gave the wineskin and the guard quickly brought it to his lips, the liquid soothing his throat. After a few guzzling drinks, he sighed and passed it to one of his subordinates, who eagerly accepted it.

“Thank you… Corporeal. We had a long flight to find you all,” he explained.

Silverwing took a step forward. “What brings you out here so far from Prancy?” she asked.

“We’re here to bring you home, under orders from the Monarchs Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. Along with the heads of the Equestrian armies generals, including the hero So…”

“Leave?” Silverwing interject, making the messenger blink in surprise. “We’ve been out here for nearly two months and we are close to our goal. I have to rescue my brother who has been taken to enemy lines, and I will not allow him to be taken from me. He even might have information that could threaten our patrols and armies should the Griffons come for us,” she explained, her mission ever true in Hammer’s eyes.

The messenger swallowed a lump in his throat and stood up from where he landed.

“You don’t know… you don’t know what has happened,” he said astounded.

Silverwing furrowed her brow and snorted in irritation. “We know of the Griffon army that is marching towards Prancy and are most likely besieging the city. But we’re too far from the main lines to help in anyway shape or form that would turn the tide of battle.”

“The battle is already over… Captain,” the messenger stated, causing her to pause and making the encampment become silent over his words.

After an uneasy moment, it was Silverwing who broke the silence. “What…. what do you mean? Is the battle lost?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

Hammer could only wonder what the messenger was implying. He swallowed another lump in his throat and shook his head to her.

“No…. the bastard king Bronzeclaw has been slain at the Battle of Prancy…. his army swiftly surrendered thereafter. I’m here to let you know that you are to come home.

“The war is over.”

Author's Note:

There we have it. Another chapter for you all. Much has been revealed and only time will tell what the new developments would bring. Stay tuned for more chapters to come.

Art for this chapter was made by the ever talented DiscoredtheGe. I can't thank him enough for his art work in my story.

Also in the art is the ever talent Margony! Her artwork for this has been stupendous and I just love how she draws the characters.

That is all for now and I will see you all in the next chapter. Leave comments down below about your thoughts and I will get to them soon.