Death of a Race

by yoshiXII

Rating: teen
Tags: Gilda, Tragedy, Sad, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 3703

With an impending battle coming her way, Gilda wonders how things could have ended this way. She recollects on better times and questions her entire life.

With an impending battle coming her way, Gilda wonders how things could have ended this way. She recollects on better times and questions her entire life.

Submitted for EqD Flash Fiction #4

Published 2013-07-16 22:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-16 22:30:01 UTC

Death of a Race

“You okay, Gilda?”

How could he ask that? Did I look okay with tears streaming down my face? Was it shocking for him to find his commander in such a state? And here I thought that this island would be secluded enough from other griffons.

“I’m fine, Cicero, just tired,” I replied.

I felt a claw on my shoulder. “You’re not fine. Something happen in Ponyville?”

I whirled around. “Everything went without a hitch. You are not to address your commander this way. Get out of my sight!”

Cicero must’ve seen the cold anger brewing behind my tears because he backed away in fear. He tripped off the edge of the mountain and fell before picking up his wings again. I watched him fly off from the island.

I sighed. It was a pity too; Cicero is one of my closest friends. But as I stared at the red tinges of the golden sunset, I realized it was best to be alone. I wiped the remnants of my tears away. It wouldn’t do to appear weak. It wouldn’t do at all. But then again, was that ideology flawed? After Ponyville I couldn’t be sure.

Sitting at the snowy peak of the center mountain, I noticed that this island was majestically beautiful. The last of the sunlight cast a mystical glow over the mountains. But my surroundings couldn’t distract me from pondering over my issues as a griffon...and as an ex-friend. I was between a manticore and a hard place but I couldn’t help it, could I?

My friend Rainbow Dash was the first friend I’ve ever had. I met Dash back at the Junior Speedster Flight Camp before this entire mess happened. In fact, we were both planted there at birth. I never knew my mother or father.

The Camp wasn’t really a “camp”. The ponies and the griffons had a turbulent relationship and the government officials on both sides decided to strengthen relations by having pegasi and griffons live together. So technically, we were actually representatives. The ratio of griffons to pegasi was exactly 1 to 1 and it was no coincidence that every griffon had a pegasus roommate.

Long story short, the whole plan was a bust. Apparently the griffons’ and ponies’ natures conflicted too much. The innate nature of the griffons was too volatile for griffons to become friends with anyone else, despite living with the pegasi since birth. To make matters worse, fights broke out continuously at our camp. Griffons and pegasi would kick their roommates out and substitute them with their own kind.

But unlike everyone else, Dash and I were great friends. We found out that we both loved being athletes, had the same interest in music, and other various similarities. We never understood the whole conflict between our races. It hardly mattered as we spent seven whole years as friends. I never acknowledged the griffons and Dash barely talked to the pegasi. We were better off this way.

Eventually, the government officials realized this entire experiment was a failure. There were hundreds of griffon-pegasus relationships but only one was successful. They agreed that griffons and ponies were never meant to live together. They pulled the plug and griffons and ponies never talked to one another again from that day…

…until I returned to Ponyville. I really missed Dash even after all those years since the camp was closed. The griffons took me and gave me to a random home since they didn’t bother to have records of my real parents. I wasn’t there long before I was drafted into the military.

That’s the true nature of griffons. War-like. Military-dominated. Rigorous military leaders put us under strict regulations. We were pushed past our limits and then some. Every griffon was supposed to serve as a valiant addition to inspire fear in the enemy. Some days we’d be woken up in the middle of the night for a mock ambush. Other times we were denied sleep or food before being drilled again and again.

Since we’re in a war, battles were frequent. The only weapons we used were spears, swords, and lances. Thanks to our merciless training, the battles were quick and without many griffon casualties. Battles were our everyday routine. This was what we were trained to do.

It was mind-numbingly tiresome. There was absolutely no leisure time and the best part of the day was passing out on the cot crammed with twenty other griffons in a dinky building. Space was primarily reserved for practice courses and the like. Many griffons collapsed from either the harsh words of the sergeants, the physical exertion, or the torment from fellow griffons.

But not me. I knew I was destined to surpass all those wimps. Every day I would try to exceed every other griffon during practice. Whether it was doing wing-ups or flying laps around the camp, no one could come close to my brilliance. Eventually the practices became less strenuous as I reached the peak of my physical strength. Soon I was bored doing the same monotonous exercises while other griffons struggled.
The sergeants realized this and I was promoted to commander one day during practice. I was given a special bronze medal which I continuously wore. I was among twelve commanders and we held meetings almost every day. The military was highly regarded among the griffons compared to other races so it was understandable that the fate of our entire species rested upon our shoulders.
As a commander, it was more boring than being a soldier. All we did was look at the map and plan strategic moves and tactics. Even though I knew my duties were of the utmost importance, I dreaded these meetings. I longed to be out there fighting the next wave of enemies or flying in general.

Nevertheless, I was proud to be such a respected griffon and I think I’ve made good decisions with my fellow commanders. I think. This was before I had my entire faith tested.

Gazing at the sky, I wondered where my fellow griffons were at the moment. Most of our military training was done on a designated island. After training was over, the griffons would move on to the actual military where they constantly changed camp to confuse the enemy. Right now the griffons must be wondering where I am, especially if this is a pivotal moment. Why wasn’t I there to guide them? Even I didn’t know the answer to that.

The sun was only half visible at this point. In the east, the moon rose gracefully from the horizon. Standing up, I stretched a bit before jumping off the mountain and flying into the cold air.

I flew above the island and glanced in every direction. I probably should’ve asked Cicero where camp was this time, but it might be for the better. I’ve found that a good flight can calm my thoughts just as well as meditation.

I took off towards the sun. Tears blurred my vision again as I recalled my memories. The wind blew them past my face and into the serene ocean below. I swerved clumsily as I fought to keep my vision untainted. ‘Get a hold of yourself, Gilda,” I thought, ‘They’re only ponies.’

Yet they had cut so deeply into me. Not any of the cynicism, the unfair treatment, or my lack of a past. It was them.

To be honest, I wasn’t exactly welcome into Equestria after the separation. But I was tired of staying in the company of griffons. It was an inexplicable and impulsive feeling, yet I knew what must be done.

I walked into the meeting room of my fellow commanders as usual one day. They were all sitting around a map on the table discussing what our next plan of action should be. They barely glanced up to acknowledge my arrival.

“I want a vacation,” I told them bluntly. I tore the medal off my neck and put it on the table.

They stared at me again. Commander Hershel slammed his claw on the table. “Come on Gilda, you know we can’t afford any more distractions. We’re at war here and you’ve decided to leave us? Only cowards of the worst degree would do that.” He spat at the ground before me.

I growled. “You think I haven’t thought of that?” I walked right up to him. “You think that I’m a coward?” I grabbed his neck and glared into his eyes. Hershel cringed. “You can’t even give me a single day’s holiday? I’ve been working my flank off and what do I get? Nothing. My life might as well be flushed down the drain.”

I let go of him and walked towards the door. He grabbed at his throat, gasping. “I’m sure you guys will be fine without me. Just make sure not to get us killed,” I said, sparing them all one last glance in the doorway. “I’ll enjoy my break.”

After seeing their flabbergasted expressions, I walked out of the door. At least the island was relatively close to Equestria. I flew for about two hours before coming up on it. I circled around Equestria before heading to Cloudsdale. I asked a few apprehensive pegasi and they guided me to Dash’s house. I made my way there and…

What was supposed to be a lackadaisical visit was a hellish experience for me. Dash didn’t want me as a friend anymore. I wonder if it would be better if I just never went on this vacation.

I’m sorry, Dash. I…I didn’t mean for it to end up this way. After all my military training, it appears I’ve changed for the worse. My vicious exterior is too brutal for the sensitive ponies.

But who could blame me? The griffon race is mainly dominated by the perception that everyone can be a potential enemy. This philosophy gives you the option to either create a façade for the world to see or fade away into obscurity. Ponies have never known the agonizing experience of war. But it’s the griffons’ life. Maybe that’s why ponies and griffons can never coexist.

Dash and I, we had something. My innate nature wasn’t as hardened back then. We were friends. But our friendship broke like a stained-glass window. The fragments will never be pieced together again. My own personality has been changed so drastically that it was irreversible. Change is inevitable, but I’m not a better griffon because of it.

Thinking back on it is painful. I never knew I was so uptight. I just wanted Dash’s company after being so lonely for those years. I was jealous of her other friends because Dash was my only friend. I didn’t understand practical jokes. I overreacted and said that they were uncool. Was I cruel and mean because of that? Maybe.

Now I truly believed that ponies and griffons could never be friends. Even Dash and I, the only successful experiment, couldn’t remain together.

But that also got me thinking. Are griffons a stubborn, arrogant, and audacious race? Was our race inherently flawed because of that? Were we inferior to the ponies? Is that why we were fighting this war in the first place? Is that why we’re destined to die?

In a way, extinction is a good thing. The less connections ponies have with the griffons, the less likely they are to suffer the same fate. The less they are like us, the less likely they will die.

With ponies, they have a thriving civilization. No one dares to attack them. Griffons are a nomadic tribe with little advancements and everyone hates us. What a life to be living.

It seems as though my fate is tied with the griffons now. After Dash rejected me, I flew until I found the island with the mountains. Any shred of individuality I had left was gone.

It really was a pity my vacation ended up this way.

After passing by countless uninhabited islands, I finally found our temporary base set up in an abandoned city in the sky. Vast asphalt streets lined with decaying buildings hung perpetually in the air. Few connected streets here and there formed something that barely resembles a town.

I slowed down when I recognized the commanders’ tent. Glancing at the road told me that this landing wasn’t going to be pretty. The street was crumbling in various places with rubble forming additional obstacles.

I landed in a cloud of dust while rubble pummeled my face. I closed my eyes as I skidded a few feet before stopping completely. I opened them to see a pile of rubble directly at my feet. Stepping over it, I glanced around at the desolate buildings around us. Treading carefully towards the tent directly ahead of me on the road, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was being watched.

I walked into the tent and saw the eleven other commanders staring at me. Commander Hershel was smirking.

“How goes your vacation, Gilda? I told you that it was going to be a distraction. And here you are back before the day is even over. I’m shocked. It would seem as if weren’t wanted anymore.”

I would’ve glared at him, but truth be told I was too tired. Tired of how I hurt ponies so much. I took my seat at the table. Soon enough, all the other griffons focused right back on the map.

“While Gilda was gone, the enemy advanced to the International Divide. They have thirty thousand soldiers for every hundred we have. I’m afraid to say it, but we’re doomed,” Hershel said solemnly.

As silence fell across the table, I started giggling like a giddy kid before laughing outright. Everyone looked at me appalled, yet I kept guffawing. Some commanders started massaging their temples and shaking their heads. Tears came to my eyes as I continued.

Eventually, my laughter subsided because I needed to breathe. I gasped for air as everyone else looked elsewhere. “Might I ask why you are laughing?” Commander Carme asked on the other side of the table.

I smiled broadly. “Here we are at the end. Just like what we always knew would happen. Good job guys, we gave it our all. I’m proud to be able to die with you miserable failures. Medals for everyone.”

We always knew one day we would get our due. We always knew that the other races were going to kill us. But we never gave up fighting. We never allowed it. We hunted deserters and executed them for their cowardice. And now it is our turn to be executed for our sins.

But we weren’t always like this. Three generations ago, the griffons were completely different from today. My race used to live in the thriving nation of Gryphemia, and was said to be even more advanced than the ponies of Equestria. Legends say that we had blimps, machinery, bustling cities with extravagant buildings perpetually levitating in the sky, and freedom from war. And to think that the dilapidated town we established our base upon was but one of many cities that once dotted the world!

It was a fantastic time to be alive. Griffons got along so well with the other races, especially the ponies. Gryphemia reaped richly from international trade with its many allies. Ancient manuscripts tell of days you could simply spend sitting down and enjoying a cup of coffee. That was the life I’ve always dreamed of. That was the goal we always strived for with every battle that we won.
We were at the pinnacle of our excellence and every race wanted to learn our secrets. But the same arrogance that drives us today drove our nation to ruin. Minos, supreme ruler of Gryphemia, decided to expand our nation into an empire. Unsatisfied with his bountiful civilization, he declared war on almost every race.

It was completely unexpected. The leaders were typically chosen by the public for their favorable traits. But Minos wasn’t what he said he’d be.

Naturally, the griffons protested, but Minos had all dissidents slaughtered by the millions. The survivors had to make a decision: swear loyalty toward Minos or rebel and die. The griffons who swore loyalty found themselves drafted into the military soon after. It became common to see airships peeling out to fight others in different lands.

The other races had the option of swearing allegiance to us or becoming our enemy. Most races, including the ponies, chose to fight. So the war dragged on and on. No griffon was to remain stationary unless they were too old or too young. Everyone was at war.

Despite having the best weapons and technological advancements, we were losing. We were simply outnumbered by the copious amounts of enemies. Our primary enemies were pegasi, dragons, manticores, and phoenixes. They had their own biological advances which couldn’t be matched by our technology.

Still, griffons managed to take control of various cities. From what I heard, we were rough, killing most of the inhabitants. Sometimes, we took the captured city’s inhabitants as captives of war. It’s incredulous how a once proud and peaceful race could degrade into bloodthirsty monsters by the will of one leader.

Almost two-thirds of all griffons died and other races suffered massive casualties while others became extinct. When our numbers dwindled that low, Minos ordered a ceasefire because we were about to die off. Everyone wholeheartedly agreed and went back home to lick their wounds.

When the griffons came back, we were berated by Demetrios for being so weak. But we would have none of his words anymore. We were all tired and most couldn’t bear to stay with such a corrupt leader. All of us fled, leaving Demetrios to die from angered races.

The griffons scrapped by throughout the ages through meager living and random wanderings between lands. Military was required because of frequent battles between enemy races who were still resentful for the Griffin War as it was called. Our technology was forgotten as our race lost its culture.

Our numbers grew less and less until now we only have a couple thousand griffons in our race gathered here. Truth be told, griffons would rather not be involved in more wars. But after all our chances for reconciliation turned awry, we had no choice. We had to defend our race at that point even though it wasn’t our fault that everyone hated us.

Our latest enemy, the dragons, await us at the International Divide. Without the advancements we used to have, we are outmatched. We always knew that if they didn’t let up that we would die. It seems like we’ve met our end. There’s nothing else for me to do but fight to the death, though I’m still confused. What am I doing fighting with these stubborn griffons? It’s too late to question my morals now. Time to fight.

The commanders and I discussed our final tactics. Even though we aren’t going to survive this, we want our dying breath to damage the dragons as much as possible. Outside we heard the soft drops of rain mixed with the thunder. Flashes of lightning blinded us as the wind blew furiously against the tent.

Our strategy was our last resort. We would surge forward together in a line to penetrate into the army and then hope for the best. We walked out of the tent, donned our helmets, and picked up our spears before flying off to the other tents and calling for everyone to come out.

The sergeants made them line up in the pouring weather. We shivered as ferocious gusts of wind blew through us. The plan of attack was relayed to them. Some of them looked sad at the idea of death, a few even burst into tears. But it had to be done since our negotiations never worked. No chance of retreat either, we were too noble for that. To die in battle was our destiny.

We took off as I put myself in the front line. The wind threatened to drag us off course and the lightning pierced the skies in front of us. Vision was hazy through the clouds making it hard to tell where we were.

Finally, we made our way to the Line. Millions of dragons were gathered there already in formation. They flew around us until we were surrounded in a tiny little sphere. They roared ferociously and spewed fire. The sheer amount of dragons made it impossible to see the sky.

Lightning flashed as we charged, crying our battle cry. As the ensuing thunder resounded, our spears barely grazed their thick hide before we were torn apart by their claws or fire. Blood fell everywhere as we lost our men. Emboldened, I managed to kill two red ones before ten dragons replaced them. Darting everywhere to avoid pursuit, I picked my kills here and there. Everywhere around me, I heard the horrific cries of my fellow comrades as their lives were drained out of them.

I teamed up with a few other griffons to fend them off. They were slowly pressing forward, their teeth biting us. The scent of singed flesh trickled into my beak as I glanced around to see our numbers were few. We were doing a good job keeping them back, but not good enough.

As the battle dragged on, my team grew smaller and smaller until I remained, dancing like a mad griffon. I kept backing up as they advanced until I bumped into another griffon.

Looking behind me, there were only three of us. I closed my eyes. So it was here that Gilda was going to die. To be unsung throughout history. To never be forgiven by her only friend. I opened my eyes to witness my death.

The dragons closed in, ripping into me. I gasped as I saw a huge gash in my chest. My vision blurred. Pain split through me like a river as I dimly heard a dragon breathing fire. Another fresh wave of pain consumed me and my vision faded to black.

I just wanted to say, I’m sorry it had to end this way Dash.