Dear readers—
I’m sorry for the dearth of new entries lately, but much has been happening of late in all our lives. My firstborn daughter, Firehawk, is leaving for overseas, having volunteered to be part of a private expeditionary force being sent to secure an isolated gryphon colony on the shores of the Ebon Ocean, one menaced by the Ibexian Supremacy.
She is doing so over my dead body. Never mind the danger she faces from the Ibexians; I fear the notoriety of her name—of my name—means she will be facing death duels or even assassination attempts in the former Empire. But she insists, saying that she must step out of my shadow by doing something I never did, volunteering to defend the remote but longstanding enclave against the aggressive and hostile dragon-backed Ibexians in the east.
The situation on that long border between the Kingdom and Supremacy is much as it was between Equestria and the Empire before the war, with Ibexian-sponsored paramilitary groups harassing and occasionally outright attacking gryphon lands. Were I less well-disposed to our former foes, I would say ‘tis an ironic and deserved twist to have what amounts to raider groups used against them much as they employed against us.
Regardless of my feelings on the matter, she is of age, and a civilian again after five years of service in the Equestrian Aerial Corps, so I have no authority over her. She has chosen her path, and ‘tis certain she is up to the challenge. She can certainly take care of herself, and perchance I worry too much. But worrying, I learned long ago, is what mothers do.
And defying their parents is often what growing or grown foals do, as Gavian was the first to show me.
—Firefly
EAS Loyalty
Cloudsdale
Central District Airship Anchorage
September 4th, 1139 AC
0630 hours
Sleeplessness, I was quickly coming to learn, was a normal state in war.
Dawn had barely broken when word of a renewed gryphon offensive was received, all along the front. The Nightborne were in some initial consternation at the news as well, only to realize to their relief that they were not being targeted; the gryphons were thus far studiously respecting their territory even as they advanced south to take more of the coastline, apparently intending to push through Pristinia into the Campelonian provinces.
The impression I had ‘twas that they were moving to slowly surround Thestralslovakia for a future strike, one shared by Fell Flight and Father once the outlines of the attack became clear. We could only hope ‘twould be taken as potentially threatening by the bat-ponies—that they would act before their strategic position became untenable, and there was still a chance for them to make a difference in the war.
Regardless of the Empire’s intentions, it did complicate our mission. The departure of Cloudsdale was delayed a day until we knew where the Imperials were pushing and where the safe routes north were. For if they were making their main effort in the center, as seemed likely given ‘twas the most direct route to Canterlot, then Cloudsdale would be vulnerable in transit to sky gryphon attack. ’Twas feared they might well try to throw a full Talon legion at us if the front moved close enough, in which case we would have to circle further west, taking the city over Highborne lands to an unknown reception and delaying arrival at Windy City by several more days.
‘Twas thus decided to wait two nights to depart, both for greater knowledge of Imperial operations and to allow for Captain Typhoon to return from Hollow Shades. Despite accepting his request to travel to their Capital and confer with their Lunar Council, the Nightborne initially wanted Cloudsdale to leave immediately, fearful of the Gryphon reaction to discovering they were harboring the city.
But they relented when reminded that to simply be seen leaving the Foal Mountains would implicate them, and thus, we had to wait for nightfall when the mists would be thickest and the city could be hidden most easily on its way north.
Whilst we waited, the Nightborne resupplied us with the help of the Loyalty lifeboats, plying us with preserved fruits and vegetables as well as some crude breads they could make—they clearly did not have an earth pony touch with farming, but ‘twas impressive what they had been able to do without them.
Few of their wares were fresh, with harvest time for all but some peaches not yet reached, but they’d learned some interesting non-magical preservation techniques; giving us jars of nuts that had been turned into a thick paste and fruits into very sweet and spreadable slurries.
They offered us some fish and other meats as well, and there were some complaints about that and the quality of their food until Typhoon forcibly reminded residents that we could not be fastidious, and that the pegasi of old had indeed been omnivorous. He then ate a small fish in front of a crowd to demonstrate that we could, and asked the thestrals for instructions on preparing them, planning to have the ship’s printing presses start churning out copies along with the city’s news services, who had been doing little for days but publishing lists of the dead.
News of the Loyalty’s arrival had quickly spread through the city, and, hungry for news of greater Equestria, a large crowd had gathered by mid-morning to see the airship. Leave was granted in stages for crew pegasi to find their families, and I did the same for the Corps contingent, whilst leaving enough present to remain out on patrol.
As I had no family in Cloudsdale, I let Fell Flight be amongst the first group, deciding she had more than earned it over the first few days of war. Granted a full day’s leave, she departed with a communication crystal and a promise from me to summon her instantly if she was needed. I told her I would, but she had no sooner exited the ship when she was hailed.
“Fell Flight!” A shrill young female voice called out, causing my second’s head to whip around.
“Morning Glory?” Fell Flight immediately recognized, her thestral eyes searching for and then locking on to a single figure in the crowd; a barely adult mare with what appeared to be two younger siblings huddled close against her, standing on the cloud surface instead of hovering like most. I knew not what the other mare’s relation to my second was until she spoke her next word. “Sister?”
She instantly dove off the deck, the crowd of pegasi parting quickly for her as she neared her kin.
And the rest I will leave for Fell Flight herself to tell.
I would say thank you, Captain, but much as you found it painful to recount the attack on Gavian, this pain is mine—and my surviving siblings—to bear.
‘Tis certain the last few weeks have not been pleasant ones for me, between the revelations regarding Outpost Omega and now being forced to recall both my failure to stop Thunderbolt and what followed the next day. ‘Tis certain I had nary an idea what Thunderbolt meant when he told me that I would understand and soon thank him, but an unhappy education was shortly to follow.
Not just for that, but for all Thunderbolt had done to save the city in its darkest hour, leaving me more torn over his assault on Gavian than ever.
—First Lieutenant Fell Flight (ret.)
Thestral High Emissary
Thestral Enclave
Canterlot
Foal Mountains
Cloudsdale
Central District Airship Anchorage
September 4th, 1139 AC
0800 hours
‘Twas with both relief and a sinking heart that I heard my sister’s cry.
We shared the same sire, of course, as most herds had just one. But we had different mothers, and in general temperament, she was nothing like me; as peaceful and gentle a pony as you could ever find. ‘Twas for that reason I had feared for her as much as anypony in my family, knowing she worked at the weather factory along with my grown siblings, my parents and the rest of our herd.
Indeed, ‘twas certain Morning Glory knew nothing of war or fighting, even if she’d professed admiration for me becoming a soldier in the past. She had even once told me that she wished to one day join the storm cloud production lines, in hopes of helping me in at least some small way. I, in turn, had great affection for her, as she’d been one of the few of my siblings to never abandon me, even when I’d been at the lowest and most belligerent points of my oft-unhappy youth.
I immediately flew towards her, and the crowd gave way before me—they knew me well by reputation if nothing else, as I’d gone from unwanted half-breed to hero following my action against the Indala raider group, and ‘twas certain my large form combined with glowing thestral eyes made me unmistakeable even to those who had never seen or met me.
“Morning?” What hap—” I did not finish before she and my two youngest sisters leapt into my embrace, sobbing, with Morning Glory clutching my head whilst Heat Wave and Wind Shift, who were only in their middle teens and barely half my size, latching onto my forelegs and not letting go.
“Easy, my sisters. I’m here. You’re safe. Ssshh…” I told them, hugging them with my wings until their sobs had subsided several minutes later.
“Fell Flight… I’m so happy to see you…” My sister finally told me through her tears, though her tone was anything but happy.
“We h-heard from the Corps soldiers that all the border bases had fallen… th-thought you were dead too!” Heat Wave added in a choked voice whilst Wind Shift stifled another sob.
Dead too? The implications of that statement chilled me to the bone as I stepped back from them and took a closer look at the three, but mostly at Glory.
The first thing I noticed was her haggard form and sleepless eyes. Even as they locked on me, they darted to and fro, constantly scanning for new threats. I knew what it meant instantly, having seen it many times before, both from Corps soldiers and even civilians following their first combat in bitter battles with raider groups at Outposts Omega and Epsilon.
But I never dreamt I would see it on the face of my own precious and innocent sister in Cloudsdale. And even worse, I saw scars. Deep physical and emotional scars, from the healing but still-visible blade wounds on her side to the utter agony in her eyes—the look of one who had been in battle for the first time and worse, been forced against her heart and all Harmony to fight and kill.
‘Tis worth noting that, in my estimation, Morning Glory was perchance the least likely of my many siblings, whether full or half, to be a soldier or warrior, and yet here she now was, having clearly been forced into the role.
I knew not how she had survived, but ‘twas to my great relief she stood here before me. Sadly, that relief was to be very short-lived. “Glory?” My voice wavered ever-so-slightly, for I feared I already knew the answer to the question I was about to pose. “Where are Mother and Father?”
Suddenly neither she nor my other sisters could meet my eyes, and an icy ball materialized in my stomach. “Aunt Azure? Aunt Droughtbreaker? Aunt Humulus?” I inquired about my parents’ herdmates.
Her eyes held a haunted look in them, one of a pony who was still coming to grips with the truth as she spoke just above a whisper. “D-dead…” Glory finally confirmed my worst fears as I felt my knees go weak, a wave of despair and desperate anger washing over me in that moment, along with a large measure of guilt at not being there to protect them.
She took in a shaky breath as fresh tears ran down her cheeks, struggling to continue. “All of them! And Midday Mist and Sea Spray and… and…!” She broke down bawling again along with my two youngest sisters, all of whom clutched me again whilst nearby pegasi bowed their head and withdrew to a respectful distance.
‘Twas thus I learned that our entire family had been reduced from thirteen to just myself and the three siblings before me. That every adult member of our herd had perished in the attack on the weather factory save myself and Morning Glory. I knew not then how she survived, and ‘twas unimportant in that instant. What was important to me was that I see to my sisters and find out what happened to my parents as I returned to the home of my youth.
Our house was empty.
Eerily so, given the normal bustle of the place with my parents and Aunts coming and going constantly, along with my sisters and one brother going to work and school. There was always food being made or games being played or homework being done. But now…?
Now, ‘twas replaced with a suffocating silence, and the only light to be found was over the firegem hearth, where two primary feathers, now encased in crystal, were all that was left of our family. One belonged to my Aunt Azure—Heat Wave’s mother—and the other to Fresh Gale, the sole son in our extended herd. Being a stallion had not spared him the blade any more than being a civilian did, and for it, my fury at the Empire only grew.
They were all that could be recovered, the two having been slain in the cafeteria when the gryphons arrived. And worse, just getting two feathers back meant we were the lucky ones—so many dead fell through the clouds to the surface below; their primary feathers would never be recovered. Thus, neither my parents, siblings nor my other herdmates could ever be given a proper funeral ritual.
Even for these two, there was no body beyond the single feathers I could pay my respects to. Those who died but did not fall through the clouds, either for being inside or on some other solid surface, were cremated as per pegasi custom. Part of it was practical—we simply could not store or bury dead bodies in Cloudsdale, as once life left a pegasus, their flight magic went with them and they simply fell through the cloud surface.
Part of it was traditional—cremation was favored so we could be reduced to dust carried upon the winds pegasi wielded, letting them remain forever part of them. But none of it mattered to me as I decided I needed to see the battle site, and thus announced my intention to go to the weather factory.
‘Twas not met with a good reaction. Morning Glory could not bear the thought of going there again after the battle, and after she’d been forced to search the dead for our family, whilst Heat Wave and Wind Shift were terrified of being left alone, clinging to me and begging me to not only stay, but never leave them again.
In the end, I relented—at least until afternoon, after I’d gotten them to eat a little and told them of the fights I’d already had; just how we’d escaped Epsilon. The fact that we’d won a victory—any victory—seemed to settle them a bit, and my two youngest sisters finally closed their eyes and rested for the first time in days whilst in my presence.
I waited until they were well and truly asleep before departing, but Morning Glory again declined to accompany me, electing to stay home and watch over the two; at least once she’d been assured—again—that I would return and stay overnight, for the duration of my leave.
Ten minutes later, I wandered in a daze through the ruins of the weather factory.
With the sole exceptions of the raincloud and rainbow foundries, most of the buildings were badly damaged or destroyed. ‘Twas certain they’d all been burned and blasted to varying degrees as only a few remained standing; even the civilian worker dorms and outlying moisture collection stations were gone.
And then there was the Aerial Corps-controlled Storm Cloud Factory, which was built more like a fortress and garrisoned by soldiers from the equally razed Fort Tempest whilst specially screened workers created the military-grade storm clouds the Corps and Cloudsdale Militia used. ‘Twas not just rubble, but completely gone and the cloud that underlay it severely torn up.
I knew not what could have done that short of releasing all its lightning at once, but I found myself able to roughly trace the course of the battle from the available evidence, from the initial assault to the formation of battle lines to the pitched fight that followed.
A fight that peaceful civilian pegasi had been forced into, I noted over and over again as I steeled myself to enter the worker dining hall, where I’d eaten lunch a few times over the years whilst visiting my parents or aunts—a pony term for non-parent herdmates—at their jobs.
‘Twas not as bad as I feared, as the bodies of the gryphons and the weather factory workers had been cleaned up by then—those that had not fallen through the clouds, that is. But ‘twas certain the scars of the massacre remained, from occasional embedded crossbow bolts in walls to bloodstains all over the floor. And here and there...
I picked up a blade of gryphon make which caught my attention amidst the other debris, partially buried in a pile of swept-up rubble. When I shook off the dust, I found it was flawlessly balanced, far better made than the typical gryphon scimitar, with its surfaces dulled and even its hilt wrapped in drab gray strips that would allow for a sure grip by gryphon foretalons but no telltale metal gleam.
‘Twas a weapon of precision and stealth meant to be wielded by a warrior of shadow, and thus, ‘twas no longer any doubt in my mind who had come calling—Ravens. ‘Twould seem, I thought with white-hot anger, that the gryphons had sent their most deadly fighters short of the Red Talons themselves; spies and assassins who killed without compunction or mercy, to slaughter unarmed and untrained civilian workers.
I am not one to believe in ghosts, and yet, as I walked amongst the bloodstained floors in the half-crumbled cafeteria, I swore I could sense restless spirits all around me. I could all but hear the panicked screams, the shrieks of agony and the desperate attempts to both protect others and fight back, all futilely against such skill at slaying.
I reflexively deployed my wingblades against the seeming threat. I was alone and all around me was silent, and yet I couldn’t shut them out; I couldn’t stop hearing them. I sat back to clutch my head and worse, for a moment, I thought I heard the voice of my sire, Dry Line, telling my mother, Evening Breeze, to get behind him whilst she in turn pleaded for him to flee.
Whether real or imagined, the sounds of death and battle bore down on me until I could no longer restrain my emotions, grabbing the blade and flinging it as hard as I could, embedding it into the ceiling.
Slashing wildly at the ghostlike enemies with my wings, I screamed in rage and pain to the skies themselves before falling to my knees and slamming my hooves down on the cracked floor tile repeatedly. It fractured further under my blows as I found myself crying openly whilst survivor’s guilt tried to overwhelm me.
I should have been there! I thought to myself over and over as I choked back sobs. I had not cried since my first failed attempt to join the Corps, when I was kicked out of basic training for day blindness and thought my eyes would forever deny me the chance, but I did so freely here.
At that moment, I thought I should never have joined the Corps. Neigh, I should have followed in my herd’s wingbeats and simply joined them in working at the weather factory. For at least then, I would have been there! Perchance I could have made a difference! Perchance I could have saved them! Or at least I would have died with them instead of being forced to carry on without them!
Instead of being forced to live with their loss!
“F-Fell Flight?” a familiar voice called out to me. I raised my tear-streaked face to the voice’s owner, who I was surprised for the second time that day to hear.
“G-Glory?” I called back. Teary-eyed, she came up and hugged me hard again once I sheathed my blades, and we cried in each other’s arms for another minute before parting. “But… you didst not wish to be here!” I protested.
“I don’t,” she confirmed with another sniffle. “But methinks you shouldn’t have t-to face it alone, either. And I thought you might need me. For comfort and to sh-show you what happened.”
‘Twas then she began to tell me the story of her survival, taking me from place to place, starting with the still-standing Rainbow Factory, which had suffered perchance the least damage of all the buildings. In its darkened interior, she described the start of the attack, and the actions she had taken to protect herself and her coworkers.
She broke down crying again as she described defeating the first Raven raid with rainbow fumes, leaving me in admiration for her quick thinking and willingness to act; one I would never have thought her capable of. Her voice broke again as she recounted taking her first life followed by Thunderbolt’s timely arrival, taking great pains to explain all he had done for them.
I then listened, stunned, as she described how he had saved them. How he had organized them for defense along with his one-winged friend Virga Veil, and then lead them into battle against the gryphons, saving scores of weather workers and costing the gryphons entire centuries of soldiers in the process.
Thunderbolt had personally sponsored and trained me so many years earlier, and perchance ‘twas only then I understood how much he’d actually been holding back on me if he could fight off an entire army of elite gryphon forces.
But even so, I at least had some sense of his skill. Glory was another matter. I could not believe my ears as she told me how and why she’d volunteered to fight alongside him despite her fears—“I just wanted to be as brave as you!” she explained through tears again as we hovered over the central grounds where her makeshift platoon had engaged Imperial Knights and Ravens.
“Glory…” How could I not hug her again even more tightly at such words?
The tour continued for another hour; there were a few other ponies and even patrols about but none disturbed us, lost in their own tasks and grief. The course of the battle crystalized firmly in my mind as my sister described not one but two waves of reinforcements reaching them, ultimately saving them.
One consisted of militia-led civilians from the other end of the city backed by special storm clouds firing gold-tinged lightning bolts, whilst the second wave was made of Corps soldiers led by Rolling Thunder ambushing the gryphons from above and chopping them up. His surprise strike had reduced their numbers enough to allow for an even fight and Thunderbolt’s final act of defiance and heroism to make their losses nearly total.
‘Twould be a lie to say I was not impressed by the tale. Perchance astonished would be a better word. I never knew my sister had it in her, or even Thunderbolt himself to take on an entire millennium of troops despite all the time I had spent with him. And for it, I suddenly found myself feeling more torn than ever, regretting my harsh treatment of him.
He said I would understand shortly why he had gone after Gavian, and in that moment, perchance I did, consumed by the exact same desire for bloody revenge as he had. ‘Tis no lie to say that for a single instant, I wanted to slay every gryphon I could.
That for a single sinister instant, I was ready to become Thunderbolt and realize my true killing potential. As if in response to my unspoken desire, I felt something very dark building in me, a whispered voice silkenly offering to remake me in his image.
NO! I shouted internally, for ‘twas then I remembered another of Thunderbolt’s warnings to me, many years earlier—to never give into such dark desires, or be consumed by them. To never surrender to thoughts of vengeance and bloodlust, or be changed from an honorable soldier into a soulless demon of death.
‘Twas that version of Thunderbolt, wise and battle-weary, who was my mentor. 'Twas also that version of him I wanted back, deciding I needed to see him again soon.
As I write this now, I find the words flowing quickly and freely. I know you have other parts of this story to get to, Captain, and ones I was not privy to. But I feel I must continue my part of this tale whilst my quill pen moves so fluidly. So methinks I will do so.
—Fell Flight
Of course, old friend. Even as I insert this note, I have already read the section to follow. Methinks I could hardly not include its content, not just for its compelling nature but for how it would affect me and Gavian. Regardless, ‘tis certain that I know quite well the feeling of suddenly finding yourself lost in the recounting of a tale, even one you wouldst have thought to be painful before.
Perchance ‘tis catharsis you seek, and through telling it you now find.
—Firefly
EAS Loyalty
Cloudsdale
Central District Airship Anchorage
September 4th, 1139 AC
1430 hours
Perchance you are right, Captain. But in the end, ‘tis important to neither me nor the story. ‘Tis simply what I feel I should do, and if anything has guided me throughout this life, ‘tis that I do what I feel needs to be done.
After an hour spent in the ruins of the weather factory, Morning Glory and I flew back to pick up our sisters. She had left them in the care of our neighbors, the herd of a rare Neighponese pegasus named Divine Wind, who Glory had told me had been checking on them and even staying with them frequently.
Even with the sympathetic presence of him and his herd, ‘twas certain to me that leaving them in our empty house full of nothing but ghosts and memories was a bad idea. So I decided to take them with me to the Loyalty, in hopes of giving them a tour and introducing them to my many sisters and few brothers in arms. I knew not if the Captain would allow them aboard, but mayhap she might for the sake of Firefly’s second.
Taking flight, we arrived within five minutes to find an even larger crowd present, all clamoring for news of the war or of relatives; it occurred to me then that as things stood, the Loyalty was in fact the only connection the city had at that point to the outside world and greater Equestria.
As I got closer, I realized Captain Typhoon was giving a speech from the foredeck of the Loyalty. He was in the company of Captain Shady and Still Way as well as Flight Sergeant Aves Osprey, who I assumed was representing the Corps contingent as the ranking NCO.
Understandable, given Swift Strike was unavailable and Commander Firefly was most likely asleep after another late night, whilst Rolling Thunder was at City Hall commanding the overall defense of the city. The Captain did not mince words about the general war situation, imploring the assembled pegasi to enlist and assist the war effort once the city was safe.
He got a round of rousing cheers in response—pegasi warrior spirit had perchance dimmed over time, but had been reignited by the attack, I noted with great satisfaction; even Morning Glory seemed to listen intently to him whilst we waited to present ourselves to the ship. He also asked for patience with our hosts, reminding all present that the thestrals were in a very difficult bind with their eastern borders exposed and both sides presumably wooing them.
“They have sheltered and granted this great city sanctuary when they did not need to. Their ways may seem odd or alien, but never forget they are helping us at great potential risk to their race and nation. So insult not their tastes or appearance. They are ponies no less than we, and we will yet need them in this fight!” he told them to more muted applause, then his eyes fell on me.
“Master Sergeant Fell Flight!” he called out into his blue command gem, his voice booming. “Come forth!”
Regardless of his appointment as acting Corps Commander, I could hardly refuse a summons from the Captain of the Guard! “Wait here,” I instructed my sisters, then flew forth and landed on the foredeck before him. “Master Sergeant Fell Flight reporting as ordered, Captain!” I saluted as crisply as I could.
He returned the salute with equal crispness, then spoke into his blue command gem again. “Master Sergeant, you are the best qualities of both races rolled into one mighty being. You are symbolic of what our two nations can be if we unite against the gryphons as one—an unstoppable force of weather-wielders and night-fighters, equally effective in both darkness and day,” he told me fervently, and I sensed he wasn’t just making airs as behind him, a tired-looking Aegir Ale gave me a brief nod of greeting behind her opaque flight goggles.
I could understand her fatigue. ‘Twas no doubt she would normally be sleeping at this hour along with the rest of her brethren, but mayhap she decided that since we had stayed up late for them the previous night, she could do no less for us during the day. “We need them on our side. And thus, I will journey to the heart of their nation this very night to deliver Our Princess’ offer of alliance and friendship. And when I return, we will leave these lands whilst the Loyalty and Corps escorts the city to safety. For if you wish to strike back at the gryphons for this atrocity, there may yet be a way you can.”
I knew not what he meant by that, but the coy note in his voice told me there was already something planned.
Once his speech was over and he had returned inside, I turned to Captain Shady. “Ma’am—I respectfully request permission to bring my three sisters aboard the Loyalty for a tour.” I stood at attention and saluted.
She gave me a slightly cool look as she returned it. “You know we are not at liberty, Master Sergeant. This is a military airship facing further combat action. We must remain on alert at all times, and I cannot allow civilians aboard for pleasure tours during wartime in case we have to cast off quickly.”
I bowed my head in understanding. “I am aware, ma’am, but… I have just learned that I lost almost all my family in the weather factory attack.” My voice wavered for a moment, but long experience of instilled military bearing forced me to master my emotions quickly as the Captain instantly fell silent.
“My three surviving sisters have nothing but an empty house to return to, and though I cannot stay here with them as they so desperately desire, I can at least give them a reprieve from their fears and grief. I wish to give them a sorely needed distraction by showing them the ship and introducing them to my commander and comrades. With your permission, of course.” I saluted hard a second time.
Her expression softened considerably as she again returned the honor. “Perchance it could be argued the odds of an attack are quite low right now. But if I allow it for you, Master Sergeant, then I must allow it for the entire crew.”
Methinks I didn’t know what to say to that, for she was right—I was asking for very special treatment and to grant it would be grotesquely unfair to other Corps and Naval pegasi with family here. “I understand,” I told her. “Then I am sorry to have troubled you, Captain. I will return tomorrow morning when my leave is up.” I saluted again, intending to leave once the respect was returned.
“As you were, Master Sergeant. I didn’t say no,” she said as she did so, then summoned her second with a crystal hail. “The Navy will need new recruits as well, and it occurs to me that this could be a perfect opportunity to gain them,” she told me as the future Admiral appeared out the side hatch and saluted.
“Mister Tailwind—I want you to arrange tours of the ship for any crew who may wish to bring their families aboard. The terms are as follows: no more than ten ponies at a time, they are to be kept away from sensitive areas, tours may last no more than ninety minutes, and you will have plans to secure them quickly should the gryphons—or as seems unlikely now, the thestrals—threaten.”
He blinked in surprise but nodded. “Aye-aye, ma’am. But what are we defining as ‘sensitive areas’?
“In simple terms, keep them away from anything that could potentially go ‘boom’,” she said with a smirk, eliciting an amused smile from Tailwind and myself as well.
“So in other words, keep them out of main engineering and the armories, primarily. They may visit the bridge under close supervision, however, and any crew quarters and ready areas as long as the on-duty ponies allow it. Mayhap we will attempt to give this city a respite and distraction whilst the danger of direct attack seems low, and in the process attracts some new Naval recruits. And as she was first to request it, Master Sergeant Fell Flight’s family will be the first aboard.” She nodded to me, to which I bowed my head in gratitude.
“From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, ma’am.”
“You are quite welcome. But know that whilst aboard, they are your responsibility, Master Sergeant. Do not leave them unescorted,” she reminded me.
“I will not, ma’am.” I saluted again, then visibly hesitated after I dropped it, causing her to raise an eyeridge. “But with apologies, I must ask you for an additional indulgence.”
“Oh?” Her eyeridge raised higher.
I might have heard a warning note in her voice, so I decided ‘twas best not to beat around the cloud. “I wish to see Lieutenant Thunderbolt privately.”
Even Tailwind looked shocked at my request, exchanging a glance with the Captain. “For what purpose?” the latter asked.
I took a deep breath before speaking again. In truth, I was not looking forward to the encounter with my emotions as roiled as they were, but ‘twas also certain to me that if I did not do so then, I might never have the chance again. “Hard as it may be to believe, he was my mentor, ma’am,” I told them to renewed looks of surprise.
“I have now heard of his deeds here; his supreme skill and heroism in repulsing the Imperial attack. It turns out he saved my sister, and thus, I owe him yet again. He told me that I would understand his actions once I knew the truth of what happened here. Mayhap ‘tis a forlorn hope, but perchance now that I do, I may now get through to him…”
At the time, it may well have been, old friend, but ‘twas certain as well that he was not unreachable. The who and how of saving him remained to be determined, however, and ‘tis certain I would never have acceded to what eventually worked but for what you shortly showed me.
—Firefly
You are welcome, Captain, and for what little it may be worth, I would never have either. But one thing both your son and my sister showed me was that sometimes, ‘twas the least likely of figures who accomplished the most in both war and peace.
Or in this case, to reach the unreachable by beating the unbeatable.
—Fell Flight
EAS Loyalty
Cloudsdale
Central District Airship Anchorage
September 4th, 1139 AC
1550 hours
Captain Shady did not grant me permission immediately.
She decided ‘twas best to consult with Typhoon first, and only after he’d had another meeting with the bat-ponies, which he’d already left with a Corps escort to attend. In the meantime, I invited my sisters aboard and then throughout the ship, introducing them to all my friends and comrades, showing them some of the shipboard spaces and operations.
To the credit of both the Corps soldiers and the ship crew, they were received well, and I was gratified to see some genuine wonder on their faces as they beheld the more advanced machines and magicks the ship was equipped with. When they visited the bridge, they were greeted formally and quite warmly by Commander Tailwind, who conducted the tour personally.
For the next fifteen minutes, I stood back as he showed them each station and introduced them to each bridge crew member in turn. He delighted both Heat Wave and Wind Shift by giving them a chance to stand at the ship’s wheel as the pilot, Lieutenant Junior Grade Sora, taught them what each control did in turn; they couldn’t make the ship move but they could spin the wheel to manipulate the rudders and planes. My two youngest siblings also reacted with visible surprise when they saw the ship’s zebra mare communications officer, and later met Aegir Ale directly when she came on the bridge whilst we were there.
The former greeted them politely with a friendly voice and patient smile—one that told me she was well-used to such reactions—showing them how her communication crystals worked, whilst the latter seemed uncertain, noting in surprise that she did see a resemblance between me and my sisters. Perchance ‘twas only then she understood I’d been telling the truth and my family really was all pegasus.
“Your sister is a… remarkable mare,” she finally told the two young fillies staring in wonder at her, her eyes invisible and unreadable behind her goggles, which she explained were necessary for her to function in daylight.
She did remove them briefly so they could see her cat-eyed gaze fully, though I did wince in sympathy to see her watering eyes as her yellow pupils promptly narrowed to slits. “As it happens, I have two daughters of my own your age. I love them both, even when they are being… well, teenagers.” She arched an eyeridge at them, eliciting a wan smile from the pair and some chuckles from the rest of the bridge crew.
After getting them a late lunch from the galley—mayhap ‘twas the different surroundings and excellent food, but they ate far more eagerly than they had before—‘twas time to see if Commander Firefly was available. She was, and when my presence was announced by her sentries, she met me outside the guest room where Gavian was being kept under guard by trusted and now-battle-tested Naval soldiers.
To my surprise, she looked more haggard than ever as she exited, but still greeted my sisters with a warm smile, telling them that I was all that could possibly be asked for in a soldier and second.
“Fell Flight is a fine officer and warrior. So much so that I would never go into battle without her!” she told them both, putting a wing over my larger form. My sisters beamed at the compliment, initially awestruck though they were to meet the legendary Guardsmare, and extracted a promise from her that she would take care of me.
“Of course, but methinks ‘tis been more her who has taken care of me!” Firefly rejoined to my knowing grin, then asked to speak with me privately, leaving my sisters in the company of the outside sentries. I told them to stay put, and invited them to talk to said sentries. Corps soldiers would not do that whilst on guard duty, and I would have reprimanded them if they did. But perchance here, ‘twas best to let them socialize.
Methinks I guessed the reason she wished to talk to me almost instantly, and ‘twas confirmed as I stepped behind the door and beheld… “Gavian?”
He did not respond or look at me. His face was drawn as he huddled in the corner. His wings and tail were drooping, the leopard spots on his hindquarters appeared to have faded, and the very light seemed to have gone out of his normally brilliant green eyes. Even his grooming had been neglected as his feathers were un-preened, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for a week.
‘Twas certain I had never seen him so bedraggled; at least not since he was just a wretched prisoner of the EIS following a botched but very bloody raider attack on Outpost Epsilon not long after New Year’s. He was my friend; a being I saw perchance as something of a kindred spirit for being so different. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel a momentary flicker of hatred as I saw him—a desire to hold him responsible for the Imperial attack on the city, punishing them by proxy through him.
I quashed it as hard and as angrily as I could, reminding myself forcefully that Gavian had nothing to do with the raid—that he had just as much reason to hate the Empire as we did, first for orphaning him and then treating his life and artistic talents as worthless.
“I don’t know what to do,” Firefly admitted to me in a whisper when Gavian did not respond despite my repeated entreaties, refusing even to look at me. “He won’t eat. He also won’t sleep, for when he tries, he wakes up screaming.”
“Because all I see is him…” Gavian finally spoke with a shiver as he recalled Thunderbolt’s attack. “And all I hear are the calls for my blood! Everypony hates me! Everypony blames me! And maybe they should! Maybe I should just offer myself up! Maybe I should die!” he proclaimed in an increasingly shrill voice.
“Gavian…” I could all but hear Firefly’s heart breaking. “You are not responsible for what happened here! I’ll tell everypony you fought for us! I’ll say that you swore an oath to us and upheld it!”
“And I say what does it matter? What does one good deed matter against the slaughter of many?” Gavian asked the universe at large.
“You are not responsible for any actions but your own, young gryphon.” The Plainclothes Security Division mare, Stiletto Sergeant Mammatus, spoke up from the adjacent corner. With Swift Strike down, she had taken his place as bodyguard again to watch over Gavian, though she still bore the stripes of a Private on her Corps uniform instead of her PSD rank. Her bearing cracked briefly as we turned to see her troubled expression; her wingblades sheathed but a borrowed belt of throwing blades and crystal pouches strapped to her tunic, courtesy of the Mare-at-Arms.
“I admit I had my doubts when I was assigned to watch you, as did so many others. My instructions were to both secretly guard you and determine if you were somehow a spy. My eventual report was that you were not—that you were simply an abandoned young gryphon with an artistic flair who was now happy and flourishing under our care.
“‘Twas not easy or instant for me or anypony else, but the Outpost did come around to you once they got past the idea that all gryphons were evil and irredeemable. You showed us ‘twas simply not true—that honor and friendship did exist in gryphons. ‘Twas an impressive feat, and one you can yet repeat. ‘Twill not be easy or instant here any more than ‘twas for Epsilon, especially not so soon after the attack. But it can be done.”
Gavian sniffled hard as Firefly and myself gave the normally silent PSD mare a grateful look. “Th-thank you, ma’am. But I fear you are wrong. For why would anypony want to accept a member of a race responsible for slaying so many of their own?”
This time, I stepped up. “Gavian, listen to me—’tis certain I lost countless friends and comrades to raiders in my time at Omega, but still I accepted you. So if you think it cannot be done, know that had such a thing been suggested to me before I met you, ‘tis certain I would have scoffed at the very notion. Doubly so now—know also that I lost most of my family in the attack on the weather factory and have as much reason to hate gryphons as anypony. Perchance even more,” I told him through a clenched jaw and a shocked, then pitying look from Firefly and the PSD mare as I raised my eyes to his haunted ones.
His beak worked as if he was struggling to find words to express his sorrow for me. I did not give him the chance, holding up my hoof to indicate I wasn’t finished. “And yet, I do not hate you or blame you. And yet, here I stand—still your friend,” I told him fervently, already starting to rehearse in my head the speech I would be giving Thunderbolt. “I will gladly fight and slay Imperial soldiers in this war. But I will never turn on you or treat all gryphons as mortal enemies. For you have shown me that they are not.”
‘Twas odd, looking back. By rights, I should have still been grieving with my sisters, but in my mind, the moment of grief had already passed. Mayhap ‘twas simply the fact that I’d been a soldier long enough that I could quickly let death go, as ‘twas necessary in battle. Mayhap was that sorrow and grief had never gained more than fleeting hold on me in the past, even going back to my foalhood. Or mayhap ‘twas that I knew I could not mourn long; not when there was a war to fight and win.
Regardless, in my mind, the time for tears was over. I had cried, and I had mourned my slain family with my sisters. I had visited the site of the battle and paid my respects to them, vowing not to avenge them, but ensure they were remembered and did not fall in vain.
‘Tis worth noting there is a definite difference between the two to me, as the former is ultimately a selfish motive designed to sate one’s own dark desires, whilst the latter is to carry on the work of the fallen and impart meaning to their deaths.
My earlier talk with Sky Sentry flashed through my mind, and I realized then that my advice to him applied to me as well—that to move on and not lose myself in vengeance or despair, I had to decide what meaning I wished the deaths of my parents and herdmates to have, and then how best to give it.
For me, the answer was easy. I was a soldier, and I would fight out of love for my friends and family, and not hate for our enemies. I would fight to make sure my herd’s line and legacy remained, and see the weather work they so loved reestablished, thus denying the gryphons their victory, both at Cloudsdale and in the greater war.
None of which helped at all when dealing with the gryphon before me, whose wounds, like my sisters, went far beyond the merely physical. He was like Morning Glory in so many ways, I thought as I studied him then; eager to please with not a mean bone in his body; I had the thought then that had they met before the war, he and Glory would likely have become fast friends.
‘Twas then an idea occurred to me. I tried to summarily dismiss it at first—‘twas surely not the time; the wounds were just too fresh! But ‘twas an insistent notion, and the more I thought about it, the more I thought it might help. So excusing myself, I slipped outside again and, sending my two youngest sisters back to the galley with a guard for some excellent shipboard pastries, I pulled Morning Glory aside.
“Glory? There’s a very special someone inside I’d like you to meet,” I began carefully as I watched Heat Wave and Wind Shift depart. I admit I briefly considered inviting them in as well, but quickly decided against it—the visit had succeeded in improving their mood and I did not wish to upset that; ‘twas also certain to me that being younger, they would be much more likely to react badly to the suggestion. Heat Wave particularly, given she shared my hot temper.
“His name is Gavian. He fought for us at Epsilon, saving the garrison not once, but twice. As he is my friend, I would like to introduce you to him.” I took the plunge.
“Gavian?” Morning Glory repeated, but then her eyes went wide. “Wait—you mean Gavian Ravenoff? The gryphon you told us about? The one you said Firefly adopted?” she recalled, her eyes going equal parts shocked and fearful.
I closed my eyes and opened them again, praying I was not making a grave mistake. “Yes. And I want you to meet him. Methinks it might do you both some good.”
“I don’t know that I want to!” Morning told me, her eyes darting nervously again. “You said before he’d become your friend, but I just fought gryphons! And I’m afraid that if I see him…” She shivered, her battle trauma suddenly coming flooding back as her ears went flat and wings twitched anxiously.
‘Twas another reaction I had seen from fresh combat veterans, and thus I knew well how to deal with it. “Then face your fears and see that they are false. I will not force you to do this, but I would like you to. It may do you good—and him as well—to see that there is a gryphon who is not our enemy. That they do not have to be our enemy.”
She swallowed hard, her violet eyes shifting from mine to the door and back. “And wh-why do you think it would do him any good?” she asked, though ‘twas uncertain to me whether she was curious or just trying to stall.
“Because he was attacked upon his arrival here by Thunderbolt,” I told her to a shocked look, unable to quite keep the anger from my voice. “There were calls for his blood from the pegasi we met upon arrival, and when Thunderbolt saw him, he sought to slay him. ‘Tis certain he would have done so were it not for the Captain of the Guard,” I explained shortly, causing her eyes to go wide once more.
“And now, he believes he is hated by all outside of that room. Worse, he blames himself for what happened here, even though he had naught to do with it! I wish to show him that neither is true. And I believe that you can help him see it!”
“Me? Then… you w-want me to befriend him?” She took an involuntary step back from me and the door.
“What I want is for you to face your fears—and help him face his. I want you to try and see him for what he truly is,” I explained patiently, and in hindsight, methinks the only pony I could ever be so gentle and patient with back then was my sister. “I want you to meet him, and only then decide if he is truly at fault or worth hating.”
She swallowed visibly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as she tried to find some way to resolve my request internally. I know not what was going through her mind just then, but finally, she slumped slightly in defeat. “Very well, sister. If you wish me to, I will try, but… methinks I can make no promises.”
“‘Tis all I ask. Thank you, Glory,” I told her, and then asked her to wait outside whilst I readied the scene. Firefly was surprised and doubtful at my suggestion, but at my reassurance relented whilst the PSD mare promised she would not intervene—unless she determined my sister represented an imminent threat to Gavian’s life. Gavian himself was fearful of the prospective meeting with a pony he didn’t know, even if she was my sister, but agreed to it “if I thought it would help her.”
“Very well, then. Wait here,” I instructed as I exited, returning with Morning Glory a minute later. Despite being told what to expect, she flinched hard when she saw him, and Gavian flinched as well to see the rapidly shifting emotions in her eyes. I even saw Glory’s muscles tense like she was preparing for battle again, causing the PSD mare to shift fractionally towards her, so I stilled her with a wing draped over her back.
“It’s all right…” I promised them both, keeping partly between them. “We are all friends here. Gavian? This is my sister—Morning Glory. Glory? This is Gavian. Our ally. Commander Firefly’s son. A fine warrior. And a good friend.” I chose my words as much for Gavian’s benefit as hers.
Gavian greeted her with far less confidence than he would have previously, his body posture low. “H-hello…” he offered tentatively, baring his throat to her briefly. “I am Gavian… ‘tis g-good to meet you.”
Morning Glory did not immediately reply. She stared at him for the better part of a minute before speaking, studying his features carefully. “I fought gryphons at the weather factory. Ravens took our parents and nearly took me,” she finally told him in a very quiet voice, causing Gavian’s eyes to tear up again and leaving me wondering if this had truly been a good idea.
Methinks Firefly was having the same thoughts, as she looked ready to pull Glory back, fearful that she was about to deliver the final blow to Gavian’s fragile psyche.
“Please don’t hate me…” he all but begged my sister as he bared his throat hard and tears began to roll down his face. “I didn’t want this… didn’t want any of this! I’m sorry… so sorry… I would bring everypony back if I could!” he swore before breaking down completely, and as he spoke, I realized that on some level, he truly did blame himself for all this just for being a gryphon.
“Hate you…?” Morning Glory studied him for a moment more. But then she slowly approached Gavian under the wary gaze of both Firefly and the PSD mare. The latter watched closely but did not interfere—she later told us that her training and long experience meant she could tell the difference between a pony who was planning to attack and one who was not, even able to pick them out of crowds—whilst the former I gave a quick shake of my head when she looked ready to leap forward.
For I had seen this behavior from my sister once before. ‘Twas when she had confronted a colt who I had caught bullying her when she was but a young teen, and whose face I had subsequently slammed into a wall. She had then disarmed him by visiting him in the infirmary afterwards, when he’d been healing from the cracked jaw and several broken teeth I’d given him. To my then-amazement, she told her hurting and very vulnerable tormentor that she forgave him and would be his friend, reducing him to tears.
Such it would be here as well, I sensed then. “I know I could hate you, Gavian Ravenoff. It would be so easy to hate you. But I won’t. Because it’s too easy. Because the parents I love raised me better than that. Because I know you aren’t responsible for this. And because I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to hate anypony,” Glory told him with a breaking voice as Gavian looked up in desperate hope.
“Fell Flight told us about you once, Gavian. She said you had a tragic past, but you defected and helped us. That you were a good and loyal friend. That you were accepted by both the Princess and the garrison—that you swore an oath of allegiance to all Equestria!” she recounted.
“I d-did…” Gavian bared his throat hard again. “And even if it requires me to die as penance for the crimes of my race, then to it I hold!”
“It doesn’t,” Glory replied with a sharp shake of her head as I mentally urged her on; even Firefly looked suddenly hopeful at the turn the talk had taken. The emotions in my sister’s eyes and expression seemed to slowly settle on a mixture of relief and compassion; I can only guess that the former was because she realized she was not consumed by hate or thoughts of killing him, whilst the latter…
Well. The latter was simply who she was as a pony. “She said you fought for us. That you helped save her and everypony else at Epsilon not once, but twice. She even said once you were everything a gryphon should be—powerful, loyal and honorable. I admire my sister more than anypony else. So if she says all that…”
Before any of us could stop her or even realize what she was doing, she swept Gavian into an embrace. He stiffened hard and took a shuddering breath; the only parallel I could think whilst watching was when Firefly hugged him and offered him friendship, not long after his capture so many months earlier.
“I don’t hate you, Gavian Ravenoff,” she told him fervently to audible relief from Firefly in a form of a sudden exhale of breath. “You are not to blame for what the Empire did to my city or family. If you’re my sister’s friend, you’re my friend as well. And as her friend, I will gladly welcome you into my heart and home,” she said, causing Gavian to break down completely in a fresh series of squawking sobs as he accepted and returned her embrace.
As I watched them, exchanging a smile with Commander Firefly and the PSD mare, who was nodding slowly as Glory spoke, I remember having the thought that Morning Glory was far too kind to fight or kill. And knowing that she had, I hated the Empire even more for forcing her into it at the point of a Raven blade.
“I’m so s-sorry…” Gavian told her again as he carefully clutched her with his talons.
“I know. Shhh…” Glory soothed and comforted him like our lost mothers.
In the end, she stayed with Gavian, holding and singing to him softly until he cried himself to sleep. By the time he had, her eyes had cleared and she looked much better, perchance making peace with herself and all that had happened as she better understood how it had changed her.
And more importantly, how it had not.
In the end, my improvised plan had worked—Glory learned that despite what happened, she remained the kind and compassionate pony she’d always been at heart, whilst Gavian learned that he was wrong—that there were outside ponies who wouldn’t hate him or blame him for what happened to Cloudsdale.
Through her acceptance and forgiveness, he was finally able to rest as his spirit began to revive, though ‘twas only part of what he needed to do so. The second part, ‘twas certain, would be far more difficult and dangerous, even if I knew not yet what it was.
Thus had one potentially unpleasant meeting ended well. But the second I had planned was far less likely to do so. After seeing my sisters off the ship—who had enjoyed their visit with just some minor and perchance requisite whining about not getting to fire the cannons—I took them to visit their favorite confectionery. It remained defiantly open in the aftermath of the attack, and from there I treated them to all their favorite sweets, regaling them with more stories whilst awaiting a second summons once Captain Typhoon returned.
It arrived not long after 2000 hours, and ‘twas relayed to me by Firefly herself, who told me that before he acceded to my request, the Captain wished to discuss the question of Thunderbolt with me directly.
Thank you, my dear sister, for writing this so I didn’t have to. I have reviewed it as you requested, and I compliment you for conveying quite effectively all that happened that day.
There is little I would add except to say you were correct—‘twas certain that my inner peace was gained by finding that I didn’t hate him. For if I had, ‘twould have meant I was irrevocably altered and was now nothing more than a soldier and killer. That I could no longer see the good in all.
—Sky Sergeant Morning Glory
Head of Storm Cloud Production
Cloudsdale Weather Factory
Cloudsdale
You are most welcome, my dear Glory. That you could do so has always been your greatest virtue, and ‘twas also to my great relief that this unplanned meeting worked so well.
‘Tis worth noting that what I said holds, too—that you were far too kind and generous to be a warrior, and yet, be one you would, even despite my wishes. Not because you wanted to fight or kill, but because you always put others before yourself and your own needs.
Because in your mind, the needs of others always outweigh yours. You did what you thought all Equestria required, and in my mind, that makes you the embodiment of no less than three Elements of Harmony—Loyalty, Kindness, and Generosity.
—Fell Flight
On behalf of myself and Gavian, thank you, Morning Glory. And thank you, First Lieutenant, for your many actions to help a badly hurting Gavian that day. Your sister was the perfect pony for the task, as despite my initial consternation—and I daresay hers—she got through to him when neither we nor anypony else could.
As we close this section, I wish readers to know that another difficult chapter for me lies ahead. But perchance its telling will be eased by a surprise new addition to our writing team.
I have been contacted by Swift Strike, and ‘twould seem an initially declined offer of penning part of this tale from the Imperial side has now, upon reflection of the eagless in question, been accepted. And thus, a very unique and mayhap controversial perspective on the events to come will shortly be offered.
—Firefly
Taking a break from getting killed in Alterac Valley to check out Best Warfic. Sure Blizzard could do something, anything, to change the map and make things more fair. I suppose that would be a change though and we can't change a sixteen-year-old game! Even if both sides in WoW Classic are completely miserable due to low turnout on the Alliance side causing Horde queues to shoot up to 2 hours and Alliance losing every single game with 5-minute wait times. #Nochanges
FML
Rant over.
Gryphons have bad luck with colonies, even worse than the French.
There's a story in-between the lines here. The Dragons actually found a trustworthy ally to side with. Friendship really is magic!
I'm imagining goat people playing the accordion while one of them sips endless cups of water.
It's true either way really. In slight defense of the Gryphons, they never claimed to live in a nation founded on the values of liberty.
Why has the narrator all of a sudden started sounding like Eastory?
The Thestrals created the PB&J sandwich? Hell yeah! Been ages since I've had one...
It's amazing to think Equestria was so dominant in this time-frame it was able to create surpluses so great as to make the pegasi give up meat. Ponies in general burn tons of calories; The Pony cerebral cortex is canon, and flight by any species is extremely calorie-intensive. Were the ponies fascistic, and conducted organized breeding, they could have easily united their continent and launched a sunset invasion of the World Island if they felt like it.
Organized breeding? Fascism sounds great!
Banging! Banging everywhere!
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I gotta admit it, I don't like that the ponies went and helped these people after what they did. The Gryphons live on the World Island far away from Equestria; they could have been left to manage their affairs with the
RussiansIbixniyans. I feel like Equestria in Firefly has in some small way inherited the White Man's Burden which MLP's antifa-supporting writing staff shoehorned into Seasons 6-9 of MLPFiM. And while Firefly is far from being as guilty as the leftist-blighted canon, I admit the subject is in the forefront of my mind as I see my nation to which I swore allegience laid prostrate before the world with over 1 million cases (out of 3 million globally, FML) of a potentially deadly disease imported over due to global integration.The central premise of Equestrian/Imperial friendship is just harder for me to accept in these dark times.
The burden of her sorrow is carried on the backs of all ponies even if she feels this loss more acutely than the others of her race. Because of the necessity to survive, not every pony or human can necessarily dwell on their loss in equal measure but what people don't realize is they do share the load in one way or another unless they're psychopaths or something.
One of the things I find so fascinating about the alicorn drones of Fallout Equestria is they experience true empathy for their kin due to the shared experience of belonging to a collective network. They're hardly unique in the annuls of fiction — think the Borg in Star Trek — but the fact Kkat addressed this fact of them sharing a collective pain from experiencing death first-hoof with every fallen drone makes them such a fascinating case-study of a fantasy race helping humans to better understand suffering.
I really need to write more FoE.
An impulse she is now forced to deny due to her decision to treat gryphons as equals and adopt one as her own son. If only we could all live secluded in harsh jungle terrain so that we could know the peace that comes with not interacting with other tribes.
It's funny how nothing really stays going well for anyone. You make friends with other nations and they become rivals. You kill your rivals, you make other rivals who kill you. If you're really unlucky, you live between two rivals and are forced to serve one or the other as lord and master while praying your country doesn't turn into a battleground. You can trust in the invisible hand of the market and capitalism to make life better like the Icelandics and Poles but what if you're the Irish during the 1840's churning out tons of food which your own people can't afford to eat due to laissez faire imposed by the British? You just can't win no matter what you do. Feels bad man...
Part Two of this comment tomorrow.
I know only of one Eagless of note. Legate Ampok.
This is a beautiful story!
Also this is a question for anyone to answer... is there a possibility for a future MLP made for an older generation? This newer show would most likely sport a little more action and/or more in-depth thoughts or feelings. One option that I find interesting would be a show that deals with the concept of war. Now I don't mean it would be all fighting and epic showdowns (though that wouldn't hurt). I mean a show that combs through the good and bad aspects of war and possibly the end results. It would of course pursue the idea that there can be good in war and the thought that even though war can get, sometimes absolutely horrible, the moments of honour, bravery, sacrifice, comrodery, and even friendship shine out the brighter for it. This story in particular is an amazing example of what it could look like and I would pay to see it as a TV the new mlp series. 10/10
(And as a side note if you like just the war aspect with humour check out Iron Hearts: Book 1 - Planetfall.)
...how horrible it must be to come home only to learn that most of your family has been killed. Reduced to a third of its original size...I thought when Fell Flight was alone in the factory fighting off ghosts...was a very powerful scene. Even someone as seasoned as her can still be pushed to the edge of breaking. How ironic it is that Thunderbolt is the one to pull her out of her funk, even as he now claims she would thank him for killing Gavian...
Quite touching.
Fantastic chapter, even if someone was cutting onions in my apartment for parts if it!
The scene with Glory and Gavian in particular was very bittersweet, and I feel so bad for Fell's herd and what they've been through. That being said, I was glad to see the understanding between the two of them and can't wait to see what's next!
This was a great chapter and it showes the difficulty of healing after a horrible battle, but that healing is important. The description of Morning Glory in this chapter also fits the G1 flutterpony of the same name who befriended her prison guard which helped him have a change of heart.
Damn it, man. This chapter hits your heart harder than a truck. I can't even begin to immagine what is like to get finally back home, only to discover that everyone you've ever known and loved is gone, snuffed out just like that. The worst part is that Fell Flight is not the only one in that situation, and won't be the last either.
There will be retribution for Cloudsdale, the Empire can count on that.
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Thank you!
Sounds like a more adult version of the MLP comics, which already do that from what I've heard. But sure, I wouldn't mind, especially after as bad a taste as the last couple seasons of the show often left in my mouth.
Well, the show did touch on war a couple times, the first through the Canterlot invasion by the Changelings, and the second through the alternate history where Sombra took over. You could argue that the MLP movie, whose inclusion in show canon I despise, also touched on it, but in that instance and to my great disgust, the ponies surrendered meekly and without a fight, which went against what we'd already been shown about them.
As would I! Unfortunately, I don't have the ability to bring that to life myself, but I would love to see it happen!
I will, thanks.
10212042
You will shortly know a second. The character in question has been only heard from twice to this point in the story, once directly and once indirectly.
10212152
I can't fathom it, myself. Makes me cold just to write about.
Thank you. I was often in tears while writing this at times, too. I'm gratified it seems to have hit readers so hard. I always go for feelz in my works, and it looks like I hit the bullseye here.
Ironic indeed. Thunderbolt basically thinks that anypony who suffered what he did would turn into him, and Harmony or at least the fates favor his actions. Through Fell Flight and Gavian--with a very special assist for the latter--He's about to learn that's not true, on either score.
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Thank you. It wasn't meant to be a pleasant chapter, but it was one that had to be written.
10212304
Darn onions! They get you every time...
I very much wanted to end this chapter on a more upbeat note after what I put the readers--and myself--through in reading and writing it. We'll see how fast I can get the next chapter written, as there's definitely a major scene I want to get to--the denouement I mentioned in the Author's Notes.
10212311
All true.
Never saw it, but I'm glad that's how she came across.
10212386
Mission Accomplished, then. And my apologies for it.
True. But she's the one readers know and love, so it makes sense to tell the story through her. Hits harder that way, for better and for worse. For what it's worth, this was as hard to write as it was for you to read.
Indeed. But the form it takes is yet another surprise. There's a reason why Cloudsdale is being moved near Windy City, and the gryphons will yet rue it.
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If that's the worst issue you're facing right now, I'd be quite happy. On the other hand, I'm still hoping that the new Panzer Corps game is worthy, and perhaps worried that it won't be.
I'm curious to know what percentage of colonies historically fail. But then you'd have to define exactly what a colony is and its success/failure conditions, which probably wouldn't be easy.
There are many potential side stories in here I'll probably never get to tell. My hope is that maybe others will someday. As for the dragons, there are friendly and hostile clans. We'll get a sense of them later.
I cannot fathom why they thought that water-sipping image of him was inspirational.
No, they're Roman, and with all the baggage that comes with it. Then again, you did something very difficult by successfully reforming the Roman Empire in the 1800s in EU4 not long ago...
I don't know, but I'd pay this guy money to do one of his videos on this fictional war! Can you just imagine him narrating it while that song plays in the background???
Well, you could always try this ultimate one, with everything scratch-made:
This did inspire me, as it turns out PBJs came out of a combination of the Depression and WW2 needs. So why not have the thestrals invent it given their inability to grow all they require and need to preserve fresh foods?
Wasn't the Enclave in FoE fascistic from what you've told me?
As long as they involve zebras, Rose? What about deer/caribou, which seem to be the other race involved in that from the stories on site?
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Oh, hey, Cloud Kicker. Sorry about the comeuppance I gave you over in Nightmare Night without even having read your story. But not really.
Because if they did, I can just about guarantee you war would have erupted again between them given just a couple more generations, only with many more advancements in military tactics and magic/technology. Celly understood that, ultimately, that to not do so was to doom them all to a future series of even bloodier and more bitter conflicts. And as was said in Five Star Service, they were meant to be friends and allies all along. It took the two sides not being able to ultimately defeat the other to realize they were in fact equals and their fates were tied together; that to continue to vie for surpremacy would ultimately imperil them both.
Nobody hates as much as me the direction the story went the last couple seasons thanks to its new writers, who like way too many people, prioritized social justice over everything else, including decent stories and characters. The only problem with that is the gryphons represent a historically white society as well--the Romans. They control pretty much all of what is Continental Europe in this world, excepting what the Saddle Arabians have in the southeast.
Which in my view only really became plain after season 7.
Whereas I'm less upset about that then seeing all the leftist politicians drooling over the prospect of taking advantage of it to amass power, dictate to the masses under the guise of emergency decress and enact their agendas. My hope is that it will backfire on them--and on China--quite badly as people realize they're trying to gain political advantage at the expense of those they govern.
As for China, as they have amply proven they are not even remotely trustworthy or interested in any form of common good beyond expanding their power and influence, I say we bring our manufacturing home and no longer be dependent on them for anything. It will take time and money, but it can be done. And we'll be much better off for it.
Then know that better days are ahead, as the disease is starting to wane and new treatments/vaccines are very much on the way. States are reopening, and pressure is growing to do so elsewhere. How quickly the economic damage can be repaired is another question, particularly if elected officials use this as an excuse to impose socialism over all the evidence of history.
People do not tend to dwell on losses unless it's their own. Until and unless you lose someone to war or the Wunan Flu, then they're just faceless victims and mere statistics, unfortunately. It's not so much selfishness to me as a defense mechanism--if you felt keenly the loss of those you had no attachment to or relationship with, you'd be unable to function, for such loss is everpresent. A pscyhopath, by distinction, is someone who feels no connection to anyone, even those close to them, and doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself.
They were an engineered race, which has its own set of issues, and your story made very clear that they have wants and needs no less than any other.
Yes, you do. And I would even read it, which says a lot, given my distaste for the very idea of that verse.
This is Fell Flight speaking, not Firefly. And it would not be a healthy impulse either way. Gavian taught her to see him as more than a gryphon or enemy. And at this point, she's not at all sorry for that.
Here's the difference between this and the average SJW: She sees beyond the surface to who he actually is, while SJWs say the surface is all that matters and happily judge people by appearances or otherwise superficial qualities, all the while calling themselves enlightened that they do so.
Uh, no. Because that would come with a host of other issues and it would only last so long before those tribes encountered each other and constant warfare between them erupted for it. Ultimately, we do need to learn to live together, and though I do not buy into the bullshit that all cultures are equal or we just throw open all borders for it, We do need commerce and to spread more superior values. Which ours are. That doesn't mean we take over and rebuild every nation that needs it, I admit I had to once learn, but it does mean that we stay engaged and help others selectively, whether economically or militarily.
And the reverse hasn't happened? England and America started as bitter rivals and are now tied at the hip. We successfully westernized Japan after WW2 and turned them into a thriving economic powerhouse and ally. Ditto for South Korea. Germany I'm less satisfied with, but they turned into an economic power and an important bulwark against soviet expansionism during the Cold War. Are such efforts always successful? No, but that doesn't mean you don't try. The best way to deal with an enemy is ultimately to turn them into a friend. It's not always possible, but when it works, the rewards are vast for both sides.
Dunno, we've done pretty well, Coronavirus shutdown notwithstanding. Perfect? Not even remotely, and you could certainly argue we got too fat and comfortable. Definitely too fat. But things continue to move forward, for better and for worse, and episodes like this serve to both challenge and change us. Whether its for the worse or better or a mixture remains to be seen, but we will emerge from it with I hope some difficult lessons learned.
I'll be looking for it.
I acknowledge the bit about Gryphons being presented as White for the sake of this story. I'm doubling down on all the other points I made, particularly regarding the White Man's Burden. Go re-watch that lame Griffonstone episode from season 5. The premise is Gryphons are so backward they can't even make their own bread and need ponies to teach them the basics of civilization - same with the Yaks in season 6. This isn't even some great reach I'm making it's literally what this kind of story is! All these bronies cheering and clapping for Yaks and Friendship Schools and all this crap are cheering on hundreds of years old lies of non-White people being incompetent that got the West into this mess. Unfortunately, on some level, you accept this logic too by your own admission, meaning you'll always have to concede defeat to the Leftists you oppose because you secretly agree with them. Anyway, TIme for part two:
Poor Thestrals. If I were there you can bet your ass I'd be cheering for them.
I mentioned this on the gdoc already and I'll mention it here because I'm apparently not done making myself look like a terrible human being looking for downvotes. If we suppose that any two members of a race could be cross-bred and create the best aspects of each race, militaries the world over would be filled to the brim with half-breeds. Fact is, this is a trope generated within the popular culture (comics especially) to promote "diversity is our strength" narratives and only really works in simple life-forms such as plants, which are commonly crossbred to create hardier plants in a process known as heterosis or "Hybrid Vigor".
Fell Flight in an exceptional mare but she is not the rule for cross-species interactions which often produce deleterious effects on the offspring such as uncommon blood-types making transfusions more difficult to obtain and a sense of alienation from the majority ethnic group of a given land. Also, they aren't all sexually attractive; that's just fetishism.
Is there a pony naval tradition for "casting off" that made it to airships or does the airship literally cast off ropes before lifting off? I suppose that's not entirely out of the question...
Shady is such a great commander. I've said it once and I'll say it again, Shady is one of, if not, the best character in the Firefly universe. And she's not just some cheap knock-off of the Starfleet Captains she was inspired by. She's a well-rounded, righteous woman with a flaw she's managing to turn into a unique superpower. I can't say enough good things about her but I will say this; her call was the right one here. It's war and as Captain, she must do what's fair.
I'd follow you to Tartarus and back Shady, until my unpopular opinions got me thrown overboard!
You can't ask for more direct instructions than that!
I sometimes think that everyone hates me as well, they just don't know it yet or why. More to the subject of the story, he's in a terrible place and I pity him for it.
Perfectly fair question. Personally, I like Gavian because I'm the reader and not one of the ponies personally effected by the Gryphon invasion. I am limited in the empathy I can feel because I've simply never had these experiences to draw upon. But if it were up to me, I'd keep Gavian off the front lines. By all means, I'd let him stay in Equestria as he'd get killed if he went home but keeping him around ponies in uniform is asking rather a lot.
Imagine if you captured a German soldier in World War Two and made him the company mascot because he has sympathies for the Allied Cause for whatever reason. Now imagine you're the Jewish guy in the company. That's going to make for some awkward moments.
At some point you have to let go of your resentment or be overcome with it, a theme this chapter covers well.
Fallout; New Vegas has an entire expansion based around this premise called Honest Hearts where you meet a man who was a great general who was lit on fire and thrown into the Grand Canyon and survived because he is just that manly. Anyway, he befriends a tribe of people living in the Zion Valley and leads them in battle against another tribe of sadistic assholes who've come to kill them and take their lands and women. At the pivotal moment when it comes to time to end the war in a climactic battle you have the option of killing the enemy chief. If you spare him you get the good ending where you learn that in time people can heal and become better people by not giving in to bloodlust. It's a nice story and a great DLC.
Good chapter, even if I seem to be hard on it at times. I'm not in a great mood as I said these days but that's through no fault of yours.
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You should! It's a great story! The Life and Times of a Winning Pony
I regret not making time to read this. Despite the world at large, I have found myself rather busy.
I do not regret the tears. You have me, severely, emotionally invested in this story Firesight. You and all your helpers, AJ_Aficionado, Silentwoodfire, Denim_Blue, thanks for making this chapter, this story as a whole, the best it could be.
Edit 1: Darn... The Appendix had me believing that there was a new chapter I hadn't initially seen. Still a good idea to add it though.
I am currently working as a Delivery and set up of stuff like beds and and more. A familie of 13 reduced to 4? Reminds me of a familie of 5 reduced to 1. A men lost his three daughters and his wife i delivered a sleeping system to.
He was above avarage rich in money but would have lived in poverty if he could just exchange it all for one of his beloved lost long before their natural life taken from him.
War and other unnatural things killing of familie is the worst thing one can suffer. Especially as a sole surviver.
I have Neighbors that are both over 93 years old. After they outlived their families and friend they told me they become tired of live.
Imortal being sure must have fortitude of Stars to stand strong...
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Money and material ultimately don’t matter as much as our love for others and our ability to care for and provide for them. My heart goes out to that man as I cannot even begin to fathom such a loss.
Indeed. I’m sure many such people have died of a broken heart afterwards, having lost all reason and will to live.
I’m sure. There comes a time when your aging body and lost friends mean you just can’t get out of it what you used to. That’s why I wouldn’t want years added to my life so much as life added to my years--by which I mean be able to enjoy life right up until the very end.
I can’t see immortality as anything but a burden for the most part, though it’s worth noting that Celly and the other Alicorns aren’t immortal so much as ageless. They can die, and Celestia is now faced with the very possibility of that in this war. What happens to the heavenly body she controls? For now, I would simply say she’s long had contingencies should it ever happen.
Its weird thinking about like...
Sometimes hearing about Firefly's life in her present gives me the same sad nostalgic feeling I get when I finish a good story. Its weird that it does so, seeing as I have a lot of this story to read still, but it still hits me. I can only image the amazing ponies Firefly's kids grew up to be, with such amazing parents to look after them.
Everytime I read this story I cry this isn't even fair this is evil how dare ;~;
more crying. But the better, happier kind of crying ;-;
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She ultimately did very well with them, but like any mother, it’s still hard for her to ultimately let go of them and let them find their own way in life.
I dare because I must to properly tell this story. Thunderbolt is a lost soul, but not a lost cause.
There’s some of that balance I was talking about! The climax of the second story arc is fast approaching, and it includes the most powerful duel scene I think I’ve ever written. Be ready for something epic!