Chapter 8: Tempest
So much fire. So much blood. The overpowering stench of death. Ruined buildings arrayed against a gloomy night sky, the maddening glow of fire sharply outlining their crumbled contours. The air was filled with the cries of my fellow Cirrans and the demonic shrieks of the Gryphon hybrids. No matter how much I’ve fought, no matter what I’ve seen, nothing has managed to shake loose my memories of my first battle, where I changed from being a pegasus from Zephyrus to a legionary who spilt blood.
---Excerpt from Commander Hurricane’s journal
2nd of Bare Trees, 401 After Empire.
Chapter 8: Tempest
If there was one city in the whole continent of Dioda that was almost assuredly known by everyone, it would have to be Nimbus. Like many of the Cirran cities, Nimbus grew from the lands and skies historically home to its own tribe, becoming grander and more grandiose with each passing year. Despite being separated by half a continent from the pegasi of the Cirran tribe four hundred years ago, the Nimban tribe’s influence rivaled that of their western neighbors so greatly that proxy wars between smaller coalitions allied with either of the two filled the later years of pegasus tribal history until the birth of Roamulus in Cirra.
After the Unification War, Nimbus became an important bastion for Cirran might in the Empire’s disputed east, where the griffons continued to fight the war Haldber had lost. It had been the addition of Nimbus’ strength to Roamulus’ cause that won the war for Cirra, and it would continue to be Nimbus’ strength that would secure the Empire’s east for the next four centuries. The city had been attacked and sieged innumerous times during the Empire’s history, but never once had it fallen. Its fierce reputation as an impregnable fortress gave the City of Thunder the legendary title of “Cirra’s Spiked Shield”, known respectfully by Gryphons and Cirrans alike simply as “The Shield”.
Cirra’s most battle-scarred city fit together in a beautiful jigsaw of new and old. Impressive constructions of cloudstone towered over lowly ruins and ancient buildings, casting strangely fitting shadows over the silent memories of old. Scarred walls defended the quarter million Cirrans within, and many of the older buildings carried wounds of battles long past. It was almost an honor to live in a building that had borne witness to the toils of war, and the city’s architects and engineers did little to repair stricken edifices other than ensure that they were stable and habitable.
The northern section of the city was dominated by crumbling cloudstone relics, serving as an ever present reminder to the citizens of Nimbus of everything that they had fought for over the past millennium. Stretching upwards to the south, glistening modern spires adorned with sleek columns and immaculate statues struggled in vain to caress the celestial bodies that circled past incomprehensibly high. Apart from those, the city was devoid of many of the other aesthetic flourishes that defined the splendor of Stratopolis. There were no vibrant rainbows forming a link between sky and ground, and no cascading waterfalls fell from the airborne fortress to catch the sun and separate it into a million tiny shards. Instead, thick storm clouds arrayed themselves imposingly beneath and around the city, which was neatly contained within its rigid walls. The resulting appearance was that of a city rich in history and might, assured of its dominance and willing to do whatever it took to maintain it.
The center of the city struck a magnificent balance of ancient Nimbus and modern Cirra in the palace of the Rains, which commanded the single largest share of cloud of any building. From here, the Nimban Regulus, a descendant from the Nimban royal line, ruled the city with an iron hoof and a golden wing, commanding almost as much respect and authority as the emperor himself. It was said that the path to the throne begins in Nimbus, and several of Cirra’s greatest emperors and consuls hailed from the Rain dynasty.
The skies above the city were filled with hundreds of light infantry drilling in formation, tails leaving behind thin lines of ice crystals as they streaked through the upper atmosphere. It was impossible to go two strides down a street without crossing paths with a legionary, and several of the largest apartment buildings across from the governor’s palace had been vacated and converted into barracks for the soldiers. Thousands of additional Nimban militia patrolled the streets and the lands within the city’s limits, identified by smears of ultramarine paint along the edges of their iron armor. Nimbus was less of a fortified city than a heavily populated citadel.
Hurricane felt loose particles of cloudstone crunch beneath his hooves as he walked down the streets. The towering buildings on either side seemed to block out the sun, caging him to the white roads and separating the pegasus from the blue skies. Stratopolis had an open feel to it, with plenty of space between the buildings and roads for the sun and wind to pass through. Nimbus was crowded, and Hurricane felt a rising claustrophobia accumulating within him. He had never felt so far from the skies as he did in the Empire’s most magnificent airborne city.
The Eighth Legion had arrived in the city after several days of flying just as the sun was cresting the rugged eastern horizon, the cheerful rays attempting to pass through the indifferent gray cloud that Nimbus rested upon. The yellow orb had been framed between two twisting bolts of lightning that were ever present in the stormy city, and Hurricane had paused to gaze at it a little longer before entering. As soon as his hooves touched cloud, however, it was straight down to business. The Eighth’s commander, Legate Red Tail, directed his legion to an open stretch in the ruins to the north where they would set up camp and immediately left with the divisional commanders to the governor’s palace to receive assignments. After Hurricane and Silver Sword had pitched their tent and stored away their belongings, Dusk Strike allowed them to explore Nimbus until lunchtime.
It hadn’t taken long for the silver pegasus to shell out the last of his coin. Within fifteen minutes of entering the Nimbus markets, Silver Sword had bought two expensive bottles of red wine – one to send back to his family and the other for “when we beat the tar out of Gryphus and finally get to go home.” Hurricane was much more conservative with his gold, buying only a colorful paperweight that had actual lightning mixed into the glass when it was still cooling. He knew it would never serve any purpose for him, but he bought the souvenir simply because it was beautiful.
“Damn impressive city,” commented Silver as he munched on a loaf of bread soaked in olive oil. Hurricane had to loan him a few bits to buy food, and he didn’t expect to see his money back any time soon.
“Damn friendly pegasi,” answered Hurricane, returning a salute to a couple that had stopped and gestured towards him. Everywhere he went it took a few minutes to walk down a street with all the salutes he had to answer. Despite Nimbus being more militant and rigid than most other parts of the Empire, the citizens were amazingly friendly and always stopped what they were doing to wave to a legionary. Genuine admiration lit up their faces every time, and Hurricane’s spirits lifted a little with each friendly action.
“And I thought Stratopolis was big on all the fun stuff involving the Legion. I figure when this war’s all done and over with I’ll use my centurion’s pay to move here and hang out with the cool pegasi.”
Hurricane scoffed. “You? A centurion? Get out.”
Silver eyed his friend mischievously. “What? You don’t think I could do it? Hurricane, surely you jest.” He placed a bracer-clad hoof over his chest, setting a hurt expression on his face.
“If you somehow get to be a centurion, I’ll be a commander.” Hurricane squinted at the sun that was rapidly approaching its zenith. “C’mon, it’s almost noon, and the Legate’s supposed to have our orders after lunch.”
Silver Sword returned a salute to a trio of fillies who stood giggling on the sidewalk and opened his wings, iron blades illuminated with sunlight. “Does this mean we get food now? Because man, I’m starving!”
“But… but you just ate that whole loaf of bread by yourself!” stammered Hurricane, incredulous. Silver Sword shrugged his wings, the blades rattling in response.
“There’s no food like free food, Cane. And if it’s anything like that bread, then I’m all over that.” He rubbed his stomach and licked his lips at his fond culinary memory. Hurricane shook his head and pushed past him, taking to the air.
“Hopefully you’re not too starving to race back?” challenged Hurricane over his shoulder. Silver made one last glance at his stomach before setting his face into a sly grin. With a light grunt, he forced his iron clad body into the air and propelled himself towards the camp, dropping the wrapper for his bread along the way. Hurricane wasted no time pursuing his steel friend, shadowy wings getting him up to speed in an instant.
It took all of thirty seconds to return to camp at the speed they were travelling, and in fifteen of those thirty Hurricane had already closed the gap on the steel pegasus. He quickly spun a taunting lap around Silver before propelling himself onwards, gracefully landing on his hooves and looking back to the skies for his friend. Silver Sword impacted the cloud decidedly inelegantly, tumbling forward several feet before coming to a rest on his back in front of Hurricane.
“Nice one, Silver,” said Hurricane as he helped his friend up. The collision with solid cumulus cloud had caused the particles to condense into moisture on Silver’s armor, and he shook it off violently. Hurricane raised a wing to shield his face from the scattering of water and began walking to the long, wooden tables where the rations were being served.
“Trying to take advantage of a hungry stallion. Way to go, Hurricane. Ha ha ha,” grumbled Silver as he trotted up behind the black pegasus. Hurricane’s ears twitched in amusement as he grabbed a bowl of salad and a few strips of beef and walked a few paces away, sitting down on a warm patch of open cloud. Silver Sword sat down next to him, already halfway finished with his meal.
It didn’t take long for Hurricane to spot Swift Spear and Shear Point. With a friendly gesture of his hoof, he waved the two over to him and Silver Sword, where they sat down across from them.
“Hey guys!” greeted Swift as she set her food down. “It’s been a while. What do you think of the city?”
Hurricane swallowed a bite of greens and wiped his mouth. “Very impressive, I have to say. The structures here are colossal, and the Nimbans are all really nice.”
“Nimbus is renowned for being Cirra’s uncut diamond,” interjected Shear Point. “Very rich in history and culture, very friendly pegasi, and a simple yet rugged resilience to anything that might threaten it.”
“You should feel right at home here, Cane,” remarked Silver Sword. “The last time this city was under siege, your father beat back the griffons for weeks until they finally gave up. If you told a few of the citizens here, I’m sure you’d get showered in gifts and adoration.”
Hurricane lowered his head in humility. “That’s quite all right, they don’t need to do that for me. After all, I’ll probably be dead in a few weeks anyways.” He chuckled uneasily, but Swift slowly shook her head.
“If you don’t give yourself a chance, Hurricane, then you might as well be dead.” She passed a loaf of bread to him, which he rolled around in his hooves for a second before taking a bite. “You’re a lot more skilled than you give yourself credit for. You may not have advertised it at camp, but you’re one of the most impressive legionaries I’ve ever seen.”
Hurricane was about to respond, but Silver Sword beat him to the draw. “Wait wait wait, is this on the field, or in the bedr—gah!” Before he could finish, Swift flung a sizeable chunk of cloud at his face which exploded in a shower of water droplets and tiny white puffs. Silver nearly fell over in shock and began trying to wipe the water out of his eyes while Shear Point heartily guffawed. Hurricane tried to cover his embarrassment, glad that his blushing wasn’t visible through the black hair of his coat.
There was an authoritative shout from across the field, and the four legionaries paused to look. A large stallion clad in gold-trimmed onyx armor stood in front of four similarly armored pegasi that served as the divisional commanders. A thick, crimson tail revealed itself against a gray coat, and the stallion’s maroon eyes were trained to see every fine detail at a glimpse. Every legionary within eyesight stopped what they were doing and immediately saluted Legate Red Tail. Satisfied that he commanded the camp’s attention, the Legate strode forward and began to speak.
“Commander Gold Moon has given the Eighth its orders. At dusk, we fly east to the Gryphon city of Hengstead. The Cirran 4th Legion has taken heavy casualties in attempting to capture the city, and they’re calling on us for backup.” Red Tail paused, giving time for everypony to absorb his low voice. His maroon eyes flicked to each side of the camp once, measuring the effect of his words before continuing. “Your divisional commanders have their assignments, which they will share with their cohorts. It will be your first battle for many of you young legionaries. Make the emperor proud.”
The Legate surveyed the camp one last time before nodding and walking off. Behind him, the four military tribunes split to different corners of the camp, each one gathering the company of the officers that led their cohorts. Hurricane shuddered as Red Tail finally disappeared out of sight, only now feeling safe from the Legate’s piercing glare.
His friends must have also felt paralyzed in Red Tail’s sight, for they all let out deep gasps of air and flattened their slowly rising wings. Even Swift was slightly agitated by the Legate’s eyes.
“I haven’t seen anypony use the Stare like that before,” commented Silver Sword, trying to draw in deep breaths of air to calm his racing heart.
“It takes an extraordinary amount of magic to make it effective against other ponies, that’s for sure,” replied Swift, running a hoof down the frayed ends of her feathers. Hurricane shakily nodded his head in agreement. All pegasi possessed some natural capability to perform magical actions such as the Stare, but some were more skilled in it than others. For the most part it wasn’t very effective against other equines, but if one could summon enough magic it was entirely possible to freeze another pegasus in their tracks, as the Legate just demonstrated.
“I’m pretty sure we can all conclude that he didn’t get his position from diplomatic connections alone,” Hurricane suggested. His friends nodded their heads in agreement.
“I’m not sure whether I should be scared or glad that he’s our legion’s commander,” said Shear Point as he picked up his bowl and began to return it to the mess table. “I guess we should be getting prepared to head out in a few hours. We’re going to be leaving before we know it, and I still need to find time to make peace with the Gods.” He set the bowl down and flew off, flicking his tail in parting.
Swift Spear stood up as well and stretched her legs. “I’ve got a sparring session with some of my wingmates in a few minutes. Gotta stay sharp before the big fight.” She picked up her dishes as well and began to walk off. “Be safe you two. I don’t wanna have to bury you before this is all over.”
“Hey, we’ll be alright, Swift. As long as I’m watching your coltfriend’s back, nothing will happen to him!” Silver Sword twisted to the side to block Hurricane’s jab while Swift snorted in amusement and disappeared.
“Must you really?” inquired Hurricane as he pawed the cloud anxiously, tiny droplets of water condensing on his hoof.
Silver nudged his friend gently. “It’s all fun and games, Hurricane. Besides, I know you two are close – like, close close. I didn’t think you had it in you, but I’m glad I stand corrected.”
Hurricane relaxed a little, his winged shoulders loosening slightly. “Thanks. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it either – I mean, we never really came to an agreement that we’re ‘together’, but—”
“Dude, you don’t have to come to an ‘agreement’ for that kind of thing to happen. I should know, I’ve been involved in more than a few relationships back in Zephyrus.” The steel pegasus paused to display a mischievous smile before continuing. “I can see it in the way you two act around each other. And you did kiss her, right?”
Hurricane shifted his weight. “Just her forehead, but—”
“But nothing. She’s into you, man. You gotta stop being so shy and secretive about it. Half the stallions – no, wait, pretty much every stallion – in this whole legion would kill to have a shot with her, and not just because she’s the Imperator’s daughter. You scored big time, Cane. Don’t let it go to waste.” Silver picked up his own stack of dishes and began to deposit them, Hurricane not far behind.
“I guess you’re right, Silver. Thanks. I’m just worried that I’d lose her—”
Again, Silver interjected. “You’d only lose her by not taking full advantage of the situation. Just cut loose, be yourself, and don’t be so scared about it. The pieces are already in place, you just gotta glue them together.”
Hurricane nodded thoughtfully as they walked back to their tent. There was no denying that Swift didn’t set his heart ablaze, and there was also no denying that Silver knew what he was talking about. Despite his usually aloof personality, Silver cared for his friends and sought nothing more than to help them with whatever it was they were pursuing. As he surveyed his equipment back at the tent, he decided to follow up on Silver’s advice the next chance he got.
He only hoped that it wouldn’t be too late by then.
-----
“You ready?”
“About as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good.” Swift Spear touched Hurricane’s side gently before returning to her flight lane. “Please don’t die on me, Hurricane.”
“I won’t,” responded the stallion bravely. There was a whistle from somewhere up ahead in the black skies. The only sources of light were the feeble moon, a few dim stars, and hundreds of lanterns carried by the centurions. Dim shadows of pegasi began to tighten formation at the sound of the whistle.
Swift Spear looked sadly towards the source of the noise. “May the Gods fly at your side and guide your blade, Hurricane. You too, Silver.” The silver stallion nodded his head in acknowledgment but remained silent, consumed by his own thoughts.
“Stay safe, Swift.” Hurricane paused as she nodded and tilted her wings away from him. “Give me something to come back to.”
Swift delayed in her trajectory just long enough to flash Hurricane a gleaming smile. “Oh? Well, I’ll try not to disappoint,” she added playfully before finally banking away. Hurricane smiled to himself long after she disappeared into the murky skies, feeling warm and elated on the inside.
Hurricane realized that Silver Sword was being uncharacteristically silent and angled his flight to glide up next to him. “You’ve been quiet. Something on your mind?”
The silver pegasus sighed and looked ahead of him. “All my life I’ve dreamt of joining the Legion and fighting for the Empire. Now that I’m here, I wonder if I was wasting my time with my dedication to training rather than enjoying life while I can.”
Hurricane was taken aback, but determinedly pointed to the image on Silver’s flank. “You see that mark? That’s who you are, Silver. You were born to be a legionary, born to be the best damn soldier the Empire’s ever seen. That mark is a testament to your skill, your determination. You will not fall tonight nor will you any time soon, and you will leave a pile of griffon corpses at the emperor’s hooves, ever proud to serve. Am I right?”
Silver’s ears perked up ever so slightly, and with a move of finality he swallowed his worry and raised his head. “Yes. You’re right. Thanks, Hurricane.” A feeble smile crossed his lips. “I’ll get you a round at the bar next time we get back to Nimbus. And together, we’ll gut Gryphus and bleed it dry.”
Satisfied that his friend was feeling better, Hurricane focused on trying to peer through the thick shadows that covered the Cirran 8th Legion. It didn’t take long to find a glowing speck of light in the east. As they approached, the glow expanded into an inferno. Hurricane recoiled at the haunting smell of smoke.
If Hengstead was ever a mighty city, it would be impossible to tell now. The terrestrial settlement was home to thousands of buildings, and a good portion of the wooden and stone constructions were engulfed in flame. Gaping maws of arches and columns common to Gryphon architecture belched forth a thick black smoke, tongues of fire struggling to escape and ignite the next structure. The entire western wall of the city lay in a broken ruin of stone and blood, and the only buildings within a half mile were the charred husks of houses and stores. The Cirran 4th Legion was firmly in possession of the western quarter of the city but was having difficulty pushing any farther by themselves.
As the fifth cohort climbed to higher altitudes, the stench of death and decay nearly knocked Hurricane out of the sky. A massive bonfire was lit in the rear lines of the 4th Legion, where griffon corpses were carelessly flung into the blaze. Black soot and wispy brown feathers were carried upwards on the currents, sticking to Hurricane’s coat and armor. He hardly had time to acknowledge their presence before the first cries of war reached him.
The weary units of the Fourth’s air forces withdrew from battle at the arrival of the Eighth, leaving the four thousand fresh pegasi to wipe the skies of the remaining thousand griffon defenders. At the pace the battle for Hengstead was going, Gold Moon could have decided to send four of the Eighth Legion’s ten cohorts to aid the Fourth rather than the whole legion itself. Hurricane realized that Gold Moon was trying to show an overwhelming display of force rather than just win a victory.
Such thoughts were short lived as the fifth cohort clashed with the griffon defenders. Looking to Silver Sword, Hurricane ascended with the rest of Dusk Strike’s century to higher altitudes. His heart racing, the black stallion flew blindly into the fray.
There were shouts from every direction, voices in the familiar Cirran tongue and thick Gryphon words that he didn’t understand. Cries of pain and crashing metal ripped the lonely night apart. Something tumbled out of the sky and struck Hurricane across the face, a trickle of warm liquid staining his coat. Hurricane pulled the object off of his helmet and held it out before him. Several rows of beautiful pink feathers were attached to iron scales running down the length of the pegasus wing, stained a horrifying shade of crimson. Gagging, Hurricane tossed the severed limb away from him as he tried to control the muscles in his gut.
A shrill war cry rang out of the shadows, and suddenly Hurricane found himself face to face with a griffon warrior. Several scaly talons honed to lethal points were attached to a solid brown body, itself in turn covered in cold iron armor. Two black eyes leered out from underneath a terrifying spiked headpiece, complemented by a finely hooked beak already stained with blood. The beast opened its mouth to shriek, and Hurricane got a clear glimpse of rows of razor sharp white teeth within the beak. A pair of wing blades and a long, curved sword completed the griffon’s profile.
The griffon, which must have weighed nearly twice as much as Hurricane, collided with the black pegasus and sent him tumbling away. The sudden change in direction almost snapped Hurricane’s neck, and it took several desperate wing flaps to orient the smoldering ground below him. Shaking his head, the stallion charged back into the fray.
But Hurricane’s assailant wasn’t finished with him yet. Speeding out of the clouds, the griffon plummeted towards Hurricane, sword extended. The pegasus barely managed to spin out of the way of the projectile, turning to pursue the griffon. The hybrid’s large mass made it difficult for him to turn around, and Hurricane planted a solid blow with his hooves along the griffon’s back. It cried out in pain and flared its wings to stabilize itself, but Hurricane pressed his advantage, grappling with the griffon’s neck and wings as it fell out of the sky.
The wind was whistling past his ears and mane as the two entered a frightening free-fall, and Hurricane squeezed the tears out of his eyes. A clawed hand struck at his side, raking light wounds on his exposed underside. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Hurricane fought to extend a bladed wing forward. In one final motion, the black pegasus wrapped his wing arm around the griffon’s neck and tugged. There was mushy resistance and then a gurgling cry as the griffon’s body went limp. Pushing off against the falling pile of meat, Hurricane returned to the fight.
The adrenaline was roaring through his ears as he looked for targets, the spray of red against his neck hardly noticed. Drops of blood fell off of his wing blade, dropping two thousand feet to the burning city below. As luck would have it, Hurricane glimpsed a blur of silver pursued by two griffons against the backdrop of the moon. Taking a deep breath, he sped to intercept the lead griffon before it could reach Silver Sword.
The steel pegasus was carving intricate zigzag patterns in the sky, climbing and diving to shake the griffons fixed on his tail. The two griffons were taking turns flying close and far from Silver, the leader always staying within a few tail lengths of his prey and pushing the Cirran harder while the second griffon followed farther back to immediately pounce on Silver were he to change direction and shake his pursuer. The strategy was taking its toll on the elusive pegasus, and one of the griffons managed to shred a few of Silver’s tail hairs as he rolled out of a dive.
Yelling, Hurricane slammed into the griffon immediately following Silver and sent him tumbling out of the sky. Hurricane began to dive and strike him before he recovered, but the second griffon grabbed his rear leg as it passed by. Snarling, the griffon flung Hurricane upwards and flew towards him, murderous beak ready to rip through his neck.
Hurricane desperately twisted his body to the side but was unable to orient his motions as he spun through the air. The griffon came closer, predatory eyes fixated on the flailing pegasus above it. Just when its beak was about to rip out Hurricane’s larynx, a shouting stallion knocked the griffon away with a bladed wing. There was a sickening crunch, and Hurricane righted himself just in time to see a headless Gryphon tumbling to the ground. Silver Sword materialized in front of Hurricane, panting and with one wing coated in blood.
“Thanks for the… save… Cane,” Silver wheezed, holding Hurricane’s foreleg with his own as he recovered his breath. Taking a deep gulp of air, the silver pegasus looked around him. “How’s about we handle this… together now, eh?”
Clapping his friend on the back, Hurricane smiled. “Sounds like a plan, Silver. Follow my lead!”
With a twist of his spine, Hurricane aligned himself with the thickest part of the action. Noticing a griffon by its lonesome, he signaled to Silver Sword and dove towards the enemy. The griffon saw them closing in and began to speed up in an attempt to get away, large brown wings pushing it through the smoke and leaving behind thin contrails.
The nimble pegasi were more than able to keep up with the lumbering griffon’s clumsy movements. No matter how hard the griffon banked or rolled, Hurricane was right behind him, cutting the distance with each beat of his wings. Realizing that it was outpaced, the griffon quickly turned about and grasped its sword, swinging it at the black pegasus.
Rolling to the side, Hurricane was able to catch the sword along his bladed wings as he passed under the griffon. The griffon swore, or so Hurricane presumed, and began to fly backwards as the stallion came around for another attack. The griffon was so fixated on Hurricane’s approach that it didn’t notice Silver Sword diving towards him.
With a cry of metal, Silver Sword knocked the blade out of the griffon’s hand. Startled, it barely had time to block Hurricane’s charge, deflecting his wings away from its face. The black pegasus recovered, joining with Silver as they advanced towards the disarmed Gryphon.
Seeing it was beat, the griffon threw its arms into the air. “Bitte! Ich gebe auf! Bitte!” it shrieked in its foreign tongue. Sensing the fear in the griffon’s eyes, Hurricane and Silver slowed their advance, halting fifteen feet away.
“What do you suppose he’s saying?” Silver Sword questioned, eyes locked on the trembling griffon. Hurricane slowly flew closer, examining the creature. He wasn’t sure when griffons were considered mature, but the one before him looked young, probably younger than himself. There was terror in its eyes, and it spurted out a panicked string of incoherent nonsense in the Gryphon tongue.
“I think he said he surrenders,” ventured Hurricane, flying closer. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the griffon’s neck, making sure the hybrid’s eyes made contact with his own. When he succeeded, he gestured his head towards the far east of the battlefield and lowered his sword. The griffon nodded shakily and quickly flew away, leaving behind a stammering of what Hurricane guessed were thanks.
Silver Sword flew up next to Hurricane as he sheathed his sword. “That was… interesting.”
“He was just a kid, Silver. Just a terrified kid, dragged to fight a war his country started.” Hurricane sighed, surveying the airspace. There were only a handful of griffons left, surrounded on all sides by units of the fifth but refusing to give in, insisting on fighting to the death.
“Kind of like us, then,” said Silver as he looked at the blood stains on his wings. “And now griffons are dead because of me. The senate says they’re just barbaric beings who deserve no mercy, but… well, it sure didn’t feel like that today.”
Hurricane shuddered as he recalled the griffon he killed earlier. “They’re sentient beings just like us. They’ve got their own families and own feelings too. But they tried to kill you, tried to kill me, and it was either us or them.” He paused as he felt for the first time the griffon blood staining his face, still warm in the cool night. “And better them than us, right?”
Silver nodded thoughtfully. “Right. They say it gets easier… I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.” There was a whistle from over the city, where the fifth was reforming to continue combat operations in and around Hengstead now that the skies were clear. Silver looked towards the flaming city for a brief second before shaking his head and flying forwards. “We should go see what Dusk Strike needs us to do. Maybe we’ll find Swift Spear up there too, eh? Compare notches and whatnot?”
Hurricane nodded at Silver’s feeble attempts at humor and flew after him towards the cohort. The moon was beginning to recede in the western horizon, and the burning city was the only source of light for miles, a brilliant torch in a sea of nothingness. Hurricane stared at the ruins of Hengstead as he flew, trying to memorize the contours of the city and the patches of fire that illuminated its crumbling buildings. He hoped that he’d be able to flush the images of dead griffons, terrified soldiers, and severed pink pegasus wings from his mind with something else to remember.
Eventually he realized the effort was pointless, and so he flew in silence back to the gathering Cirran 8th Legion, hoping to find comfort in a familiar manila coat.
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That is my response to this chapter.
hey! be careful throwing about the term "demonic"! the mlp universe doesnt know what "demonic" is. the closest thing to a "demon" in its loosest sense was discord, and even he wasnt powerful, wise, or ancient enough to be considered even remotely demonic. the term "demonic" does not apply to the gryphons in any sense. seriously, you need to read more books that feature demons in them before you even consider using that term in your writing.
ill overlook that. not many authors know what true demons are. but seriously, too many use the term even though they are ignorant. you really should read "the door in the dragon's throat" or "the tapestry". both book sets feature demons in a terrifying sense, and they really bring to light the true meaning of the term "demon".
sorry, its just a pet peeve of mine whn authors use the term "demon" ignorantly. carry on.
not necessarily...i mean, im sure the gryphons would have a differrent opinion...
1617243 goddammit, now i cant get that scene from the episode out of my head. isnt that where this emotocon came from?
Your decision to make the Gryphons speak German gives this an awkward resemblance to some parts of the Second World War. That combined with the part where the kid surrendered... Here's hoping for peace sometime.
Nice job making the griffins speak german. I was thinking this was somehow modeled after the Roman empire. I mean, Roamulus is obviously Romulus, the pegasus emperor's name is Augustus, there were occasional latin phrases, and the army is divided into legions. Having the griffins speak german and the pegasi think they are a lesser species is just like Rome's view of the Germanic tribes across the Rhine and Danube. Of course, these germanic tribes eventually brought Rome to its knees. Now are the griffins going to sack Stratopolis?
This was a nice chapter with a well done first battle. That griffon they let go... I've got the worst feeling that he's going to kill one of their main friends. I look forward to seeing how Hurricane and his friends grow during this war, providing they live long enough to actually grow. Swift and Hurricane's relationship should be nice to see, especially since it's a romance in a war.
~SolidFire
2607919
They've been spouting out about gods the entire story, but one mention of demons and your bothered? Now that's not to say that having one implies having the other, but there are pre-established fictional worlds where one is often seen as the inverse of the other. And for all you know the ponies of the show have demons, they do have a Tartarus after all.
If only you could see the future Cane