Crumbling Castles

Dear King,

After all of the service we've done for you, with all of the bloodshed and pain we've been through, we demand satisfaction. The earth ponies still knock on the walls, it keeps us awake at night and they know it. The mounted crossbows help but it's much louder when a giant bolt of steel hits a stone wall than just a simple hoof. We need an outer wall, an extra layer of protection, and whoever thought it was a good idea to build the barracks against the castle exterior wasn't very smart. Until we get what we want, you won't get what you want.

I expect a response from you within three days time, my men are waiting.

If our expectations are not met, we are leaving.

Respect bound,

The Pegasi

What is death?

Is it merely the end of life? Something that we all face and deal with every day, only to have it catch up with us in the end? A speeding bullet, moving ever closer towards us, that no matter how hard we try to get away from, we never can?

Or is it less sinister?

A passage into a better future, one beyond physical boundaries that sets our inner souls free? An ascension into a higher plane of existence beyond the one of our own? Something so great that no matter how hard we try, we may never understand it?

Or is death merely a cycle?

Something that has no moral compass, be it good or bad, but it altered by those who wish to play with it? To make a neutral event that happens to all of us, appear as an evil curse upon all of existence is a true terror.

My first experience with death was when my father passed away. A truly tragic event. He used to run a caravan from the crystal empire to our village. He was actually one of the main suppliers for our village, and his name has been lost to time. Only I can recall it: Vernon Malum. It was his father's name, and even less ponies remember him. One day during my father's runs, a gang of bandits demanded he toss over all of his goods for his life. My father knew how important his caravan was to the village, and refused, defending his goods to the last breath. Of course, he stood no match for a gang of ponies, and fell quickly to cheap stab in the back with a knife. If that wasn't enough, when they made away with his goods, they ran him over with his own cart. His body was found later, and word spread to crystal empire, who showed support by sending us a caravan of their own every week to supply us. The bandits were caught a year later, and confessed to the crime. They were only given a jail time of 10 years. 10 years of their lives in exchange for the rest of my father's. Not to mention, all of the trouble it brought me and my mother.

My father was a great pony, one who I was very close to. He had green eyes.

So did the griffon.

The griffon's eyes were now closed, but the image of her piercing green eyes looking back at me with her dying breaths will haunt me for the rest of my life. I had no idea what to do. I sat there in the reflection pool, now completely tinged red with the griffon's blood. The plaza was still completely silent.

This griffon had merely come back to return my journal, and offer her thanks for the tip. She was wanting to spend that money on a nice meal, something she hadn't had in years. I had made her day, and she was rewarded with a horrible and abrupt end to her existence in Equestria.

The least I could offer her, was a burial.

My eyes still wet with tears, my fur matted from the blood and dirty water, and my resolve crumbled. I set the griffon's body down at the bottom of the stairs. Looking over the cliff where I saw her last, my mind was blank. Why did this happen? I dug a shallow hole with my hooves. It ruined the polishing I had done, but it was the least I could do for her. I drug her lifeless body in the hole, folded her wings back, and put her arms across her chest. I set the 15 bits in her hands, it didn't feel right for me to take them back. Using what little dirt I had dug up I covered her the best I could. After covering her I gathered up some nearby stones and covered her body completely in them. I plucked a flower from nearby and set it on top of her grave.

I didn't even know her name...

Just then, an awful thought hit me. What if I didn't give her that tip? Would she have came back for me? Or would she have still brought my journal to me? She might not have been as inclined to come up to the castle! Could this all have been my fault? Could I have prevented all of this simply by not being as generous?

No, I can't blame myself for this. How could I have known this would have happened? Maybe I shouldn't have forgotten my journal back there! Oh god no, I could have stopped this!

I collapsed, "I could have stopped this..." I muttered to myself.

"No, you couldn't." A voice behind me.

I turned to see a pink mare with a mint green mane standing behind me.

It began to rain.