On The Eve of Battle (an introduction)
Sir Tux stepped out of the tent, the chilled wind lightly tossing the unicorns dark red mane against his black fur. Looking down the bluff, he saw the many campfires of ponies. Heard their merriments, laughter, and music. The sound of metal being pounded and blades sharpened. He wondered if, somewhere off in the darkness, somepony was watching over Princess Celestias army as he was his now. He hoped so.
Many ponies will die tomorrow. He closed his eyes, turning his head down. And for what. He looked back at the camp. A town. Just another dot on the map, that even if I was told the name, I wouldn’t remember it. Sir Tux heard hoofsteps approaching behind him.
“My lord,” said a gruff voice, softly, “our lady and the generals are ready for you.” Sir Tux did not move. The colt waited uncomfortably a few moments before speaking again, in a more urgent tone, “My lord Tuxedo Charmer, Princess Luna is waiting upon you.”
Sir Tux looked back at the thestral, then back at the camp. “Windwalker, do you hope to return home after all this?”
“Yes, my lord. Don’t you?”
“No,” he sighed. “I’ve long since lost my hope ."
They stood there in heavy silence for several long moments, before Windwalker prompted, "My Lord."
"Yes," said Sir Tux, turning. "We mustn't keep the others waiting." Together, they walked into the tent.
