The Greatest Hour

by UniqueSKD

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Dark, Sad
Length: 1653

The final moments of a royal guard during the Pony-Gryphon war, told from his perspective.

Friends. Family. Kingdom. My princesses. My honor.

I fought in the Pony-Griffon War to protect all of the above.

The sound of the trumpets from both armies instigated a great and bloody battle. It was my first war. It was also my last.

But even so, I had sworn a solemn vow that if I should die at the talons of the enemy, I would make my final hour my greatest in life.

DUE TO LACK OF A GRYPHON CHARACTER TAG, I USED GILDA TO REPRESENT THE SPECIES OF GRYPHON. SAME FOR FLASH SENTRY, WHICH IS MEANT TO REPRESENT THE ROYAL GUARD. HOPE THIS CLEARS UP ANY LIKELY CONFUSION. UNLESS YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TO READ THIS PART OF THE DESCRIPTION. IN WHICH CASE YOU'RE IGNORANT.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-20 14:50:03 UTC

The Greatest Hour

The sound of ringing fills my ears when I open my eyes. The first thing I see is the sky, reddened and vast. The first thought that I conjure up in my mind is that I must be flat on my back if I can see above me. So why am I so?

I need only to turn my head to one side to remember where I am. The twisted face of a unicorn pony I knew back in training stares back at me, eyes wide, dead and expressionless. Rightly so. A head that isn't attached to the neck of its owner doesn't usually last long, last I checked.

Seeing the remains of a familiar face first thing after regaining my consciousness came as a rather unpleasant surprise, as I am sure anypony would agree. I gasped, rolled over, tried to get on to my hooves, only to trip over something beneath me. A quick look, and I think I found the rest of my friend's body. The cutie mark resembles a hammer and chisel.

Yeah. It's his alright. I remember seeing it during sword sparring. Regrettably, I do not recall his name. When you train for war, there is little time to make friends.

But his body is not the only one here. There's at least a few dozen more laying around me. They are all bloodied, torn and ruined. A few of those poor souls are missing a leg or two. There are a couple bodies over there, I can see, that are still intact, but still very dead.

Ugh. That damn ringing in my ear.

I'm trying to recall what happened. I remember my captain giving us the order to advance upon the griffins atop that small hill. Our pegasi brothers-in-hooves were attacking from above, either dropping large stones down upon the ground forces, or otherwise dealing with those airborne...

I...remember seeing my captain charging towards several of the bastards, running them through with his blade, ordering us to continue onward towards where the enemy was holed up, inside of a small tower atop the hill mound...and...and then...there was a loud thundering boom...my captain shouting something...and that unicorn running towards me before the world went black.

Without a doubt, if it were not for him, I would surely be dead. Much of me felt guilty of that fact, that another life was taken just so I could keep my own, more painful an acknowledgement was that the name of this poor soul, was not one I knew. I guess it didn't matter now. It was beyond too late to change anything. I staggered over to the head of the unicorn whom I owed my life to, kneeling down beside it.

His eyes were still open. I had to wonder - when he pushed me down, when he unselfishly made the ultimate sacrifice, did he see his death coming? Did it hurt when the tendons in his neck tore away as his head came off? I shuddered at the thought, such a disturbing imagination making me feel all the more self-loathing. I brought my hoof to his eyes, and closed them for him. Had I a digging tool, I would have repaid his sacrifice with that rarest of rewards any soldier can hope to receive on the battlefield; a decent burial, but sadly I could not do such a thing.

I prayed quietly that he would be at least appreciative of my gesture, the closing of his eyes symbolizing true rest.

A quick prayer upon his departed soul, and the same for the other bodies near me, only then did I turn my attention to the world around my small graveyard. A barren wasteland, so very little grassy patches here and there, but other than that, nothing much less. I could have sworn this was a field before, even a few pretty flower bushes, my memory recalls. The air is filled with dust and debris carried in the wind. It is hard to see anything at all in front of me, only the ground and the sky are clearest to me right now. I wonder what in the wide world of Equestria could have caused such a destructive scene around me in such little time.

In fact, how much time had passed since I was unconscious? Did it even matter right now?

My thoughts are interrupted by a metallic clinking sound somewhere in the dirty fog. My ear twitches, I turn my head towards the source, but I can't see anything. I think first of calling out, in case it was another soldier, be it a survivor from my unit, or from another, but there is something curious about the sound that hinders me from uttering so much as a single word. So i elect to wait, and the clinking sound steadily increases in volume, hinting it is coming closer towards me.

Then, the single sound becomes many sounds, as I hear more clinking and clattering of something metal. It...sort of sounds like plates of...armor, perhaps? I do manage to see a silhouette in the dust, a figure that appears to be pony-like. I feel a slight relief at the thought of there being another sign of life besides myself. I ignite my magic, picking up my shield and sword from the ground, and I trot over to the figure.

I am about to open my mouth, when I see more shadowy figures emerging within the fog. I stop in my tracks, suddenly unnerved as I see wings unfolding. So were they pegasi? But why would pegasus ponies mount a search-and-rescue on hoof, rather than from the air especially with the layers of dust clouding the view of anypony on the ground?

The silhouette turns its head, and I see a long thin mouth. A beak, to be exact.

Shit. That is all I can really think right now.

The griffins were probably looking for survivors, to do what with I dreaded to think, the predatory creatures were known for being ruthless and damn near-merciless in times of war, rumored to torture what very few prisoners they would ever take for information, as well as for their own amusement, among other stories told back at base. Whether there was truth to such tales or not was open to debate, but considering that the enemy was not hesitant to use cannons against my unit, I very much doubt they would spare me from a worse fate.

They now emerged from out of the clouds of dust, and I see the first griffon, garbed in battle armor silver and black. I can see his eyes, and they express murderous intent, a desire to draw back his claws, and thrust it through my chest. His beak glimmers in what light bears down on us from the red sky, and he pauses several ten feet from me. I shift uneasily as I see what is likely his unit emerging now, standing to attention at his sides, each too expressing the desire to kill, not capture and torture. Seems they've no need for prisoners this day, only confirmation that their enemy was dead.

I am surrounded. I grasped my tools close to me, held firm by my magical aura. They all stand around me, barey moving, eyes fixated upon me, watching me like devilish vultures. I have heard tales of these moments too from witness accounts - that the griffons would sometimes surround their enemies, and wait for them to make one little move, before they all dove in and tore them apart. Literally.

So, this was how it was to end for me, was it? To be ripped apart, plucked like flower petals, my entrails and liver and intestines no doubt pulled from my body slowly and painfully, by these vicious creatures?

I looked down at the face of the unicorn I owed my life to. Eyes closed, he looked so much at peace. Right now I envied him. But as I looked on at him, I felt...I felt something stir within me. A feeling in my gut, a desire to repay his sacrifice.

More and more griffons began to emerge from the flowing dust clouds now. Each stared at me, soulless eyes watching even the slightest twitch I made. I looked back at my fallen comrade, and the rest of my unit. Though fear indeed did instill itself upon me, in my mind, and in my heart, I knew that there were two ways I could go out right now. I could either throw down my shield and sword, and die here and now, or I could make my final stand right here, and die with courage and dignity.

Making my resolve, I lowered my head, and readied my sword and shield. For the ponies that died today, and for the pony who gave his life to save mine, I dedicate my final moments in this life to your courage and sacrifices.

A mighty battle chorus erupted from my throat, causing ome of the griffons to flinch and back away a little, surprised looks on their faces. Most likely, they did not expect a stallion like myself to actually challenge their numbers. Maybe such an act had never been done before. The heavens rang with my cry, I raised my shield in front of me, my sword tip pointed at the nearest griffon in my way, and charged.

I felt indestructible for just but a moment, cowardice erased from my body, the will to fight on my only thoughts right now. If I was going to die here today, I would take as many of these griffons down with me. Fewer problems for the rest of Celestia's forces to deal with, I figured.

As I ran my blade through the first griffon, a voice spoke out to me, You will not truly die here, soldier

'There will be another time...'