4:14 AM Fairbrittle, Equestria, 1003 y.a.b., 44th day of Fall

Across two nations it was a restless night. Griffons wondering what will become of their suddenly mobilized spouses, ponies who had never known war praying to give Celestia strength, soldiers trying to catch shut eye on bumpy trains. Others couldn’t sleep because of mistrust of their bunk mates, others were filled with child like excitement, others with dread. Even the Princess of the Sun did not sleep. Princess Celestia received wave after wave of letters from Luna, the confused Princess of the Night demanding to know why Celestia hadn’t even woken her up to inform her of the War. Celestia spent the night ignoring the rain of magical letters, afraid to face her sister even in slumber.

Yet, there was one who couldn’t rest for reasons completely apart from the War.

In the one lit room in Fairbrittle, metal clanged against wood. Once, twice, fourteen times.

Grand Prix stood hunched over a desk, feebly counting the gold with his teeth, hoping against sanity that gold would appear if he counted hard enough.

Yet reality did not bend to his will, all he was left with was fourteen bits.

“...This is it?” Grand screamed in his mind, “I brought enough to pay all my damn cowards of a house levy, and all I have is fourteen bucking bits! Those feathered brains and those mudponies… They should be hanged for robbing me blind!”

His stomach gurgled painfully. Grand hadn’t had any booze since the morning before, “I hate this bucking town. I hate the ponies, I hate the air, and I hate that bucking coal… I will need to pay that mob again in ten days, the locals are going to expect the rest of the ‘inconvenienced for being under house arrest’ payments in eight days. Even my useless guards are going to want their money in seven… I need more bits.”
Horror slowly dawned on Grand’s face. Pain welled up in bruises, bruises far older than the ones from the day before, “Prix is going to murder me for this.”
Eyes drifted up to his burnt horn that still refused to cast spells, the shot glass that refused to fill itself, and the tiny puddle of bits lying on the desk. With great reluctance, Gran awkwardly grabbed a quill in his mouth, ready to draft a letter that might as well have been his death warrant.

A train whistle broke him out of his thoughts.

Walking onto into the nearly freezing cold, Grand looked out at the very unscheduled train coming from Equestria. It was a long line of coaches, longer than Grand could see to the end of, pulled by two great steam engines, one the colorful engine of the central Equestrian lines, and one a much older one a pure dark iron, some old relic dragged out of its museum to serve Equestria once more

“This… this station is the noble property of House Prix!” Grand Prix shouted as thousands of groggy Solar Guards piled out of the train, “Under what right do you-”

A great, and hostile thump emanated behind Grand. The hairs on the back of Grand’s mane prickled up as he sensed a large and looming presence behind him. As he dared to turn his head, he laid an eye upon Princess Celestia.

There was no warmth, no feeling of motherly wisdom, and kindness in her stance. Great black canyons were etched under Celestia’s eyes. Her smile had been warped into a hateful scowl.

“Duke Consort Grand Prix,” Celestia all but spat out.

Grand’s lips quivered unsure if he should say hello or scream in terror.

“Through your family’s greedy land grab, Equestria is now at war,” Celestia took a step forward.

“Wa… war? … I… didn’t mean…” Grand backed away.

Celestia closed the distance with one single stride, “Under the War Powers Act within the Founding Document, I am reinstating your military commission with the royal guard effective immediately.”
“I… haven’t commanded anypony… a real force in years…” Grand managed to tremble out.

“I also find your actions dishonorable, thus I revoke all gained medals, ranks, and military titles,” Celestia stated, “Effective immediately, you are only an enlisted guardsman.”

“But… but… my horn!” Grand indicated to the black wound.

Celestia eyes rested upon the wound, her anger briefly exchange for a look of surprise. However, the glare returned.

“As per your rights, I will provide a trained medical professional to observe your wounds in exactly twenty four hours. Until that time, I am considering you fit for duty.

“You… you don’t have… my rights as a noble…” Grand said before a golden aura forced his mouth shut.

Celestia used her magical grip to drag Grand to an inch before her face, “Because of your wife, I have relearned exactly where your noble rights END. Now, you are going tell me precisely what you have been doing to my little ponies...”

A green flame erupted in front of Celestia’s face. It had been close enough to singe some of the hairs upon Grand’s face.

From the green flame was a scroll bearing Princess Luna’s seal. She looked upon the letter with guilt.

The magic gripping Grand whisked away, Celestia walked back to her private train car, scroll in her arcane grip. Grand decided it was best to just join the crowd and not stick around for Celestia to find him again.

The Princess of the Sun dropped Luna’s scroll onto a pile of unread letters, all wearing Luna’s seal.

Celestia walked from the train into the chaos of her guards. Ponies of the engineering corp unpacked the army’s supplies while guard regiments were gathered together. Above all the noise was a high pitched hum. It grew louder in Celestia’s ears but it was far above the hearing range of the her ponies. The western sky was darkened by a moving black horde.

It was spotted, many of Celestia’s guard spotted the movement.

“They flanked us!”

“How did we not see them!”

Captain Radiant Blade shouted above the crowd, “Prepare arms! Get ready to fly! This town must not-”

“Do not worry my little ponies!” Celestia shouted above Radiant, “That is not our enemy, but your reinforcements!”
The darkened shape revealed itself to be the entirety of the Lunar Guard. Thousands of bat ponies descended from the sky. Their arrival was met with a dead silence from Celestia’s Solar Guards.

“Provisional Captain of the Lunar Guard, Night Watch reporting! The bat ponies are now at your command my Princess of the Day,” Night Watch said as she gave her salute to Celestia.

“Thank you for coming Night Watch,” Celestia replied.

Night Watch relaxed, “My Princess of the… Celestia, Luna has contacted me directly, and wants to know why you didn’t wake her to inform her about the war…”

“I will discuss with that with my sister on a later date.” Celestia became stone faced at the reminder.

“...Of course my Princess of the Day.” Night Watch bowed her, “I am sorry to have to disappoint our patron Princess, but if that is what has to be done, it will be done.”

Guilt welled up inside Celestia, but she allowed none of it to be visible to her subjects.

Night Watch continued, “As we flew off, we spotted the forces of Cloudsdale flying here as well. The Wonderbolts should be here within the hour.”

Unlike the silence that had greeted the Lunar Guard, when the full force of the full thousand Wonderbolts flew into Fairbrittle, it was met by wild cheering.

The legendary pegasi clad in blue padding landed amongst the crowd. Their wings were sore and their breathing was heavy, but it brought hope to the ranks of the Solar Guard.

A purple unicorn, weighed down by charts, maps, and the traditional crossbow of the Engineering Corp pushed her way to Celestia.

“I apologize, Princess,” Amethyst Star stated, “I have been forced to put out a thousand different fires of misplaced cargo, inaccurate roll sheets, and the noble guards who are apt to remind me that I am technically not part of their command structure. However, now that we are all here, we need to have a meeting to determine the best way to fortify and secure this town over the next few days as the rest of our forces arrive…”

Celestia’s attention was drawn away by a quiet sound. It was only distant whistle, a lower pitch than the whistles of the Equestrian trains, rang from the East.

From North Griffonia.

Then second whistle, then a third, each louder and louder, attracting the attention of first the bat ponies and then the rest of Equestria’s forces.

The army of North Griffonia was here.

The Griffonian train didn’t thunder down the tracks as Equestrian’s train had, but made a steady yet unyielding push forwards. The train engine was far less elegant than its Equestrian counterparts, but the engine itself was armored and ready for war.

The train came to a halt miles outside of Fairbrittle, all whistles blaring to both announce their arrival and shake the of the army out of its slumber.

Darius was up already up and about, tightening his breastplate into place. The rest of his comradeship was pulling themselves out of their hammocks, with one expected exception.

Cassandra laid down, refusing to open her eyes. Darius moved over to his sister, mumbling in her half sleep. He grabbed the side of her hammock, pulled, and sent her flying to the floor.

“ Cassandra!” Lancet dashed over to the fallen Cassandra, “Are you alright? Shall I fetch the medic-”

“No,” Cassandra stated forcibly. Cassandra looked upon the genuine look of concern upon Lancet’s face, “Sorry… I’m fine. I deserved that.”

“My deepest apologizes, maj… Cassandra.” Lancet looked down.

Cassandra rolled her eyes.

Lancet was already ready for battle, as she had slept in her armor. Jaine and Wallace were jammed together in a corner of the train car, avoiding eye contact with each other and putting their armor on in an awkward silence. Darius’ eyes lingered upon Wallace as the hippogriff pulled the gambeson down his barrel. Wallace’s eyes caught Darius’, and Darius pretended he had been staring at something else.

“Work in progress…” Darius reminded himself in his mind.

Armored and ready, the six exited into the order of the battle preparations. Engineers were crawling over the airships, untying them from the train, allowing the balloons to lift the ships into the sky. The medicinal wizards and the Holy Order of the Red Wing were setting up some temporary medical tents to prepared for the wounded that would come, with the Order of Penance standing silently in their night black armor. The rest of the Holy Orders were praying for blessings in the battle to come.

Baskets full of cold meat, water, and bread were passed around the troops. General Isabelle’s magically loud voice shouted above the crowd.

“Eat as much as you can as fast as you can. In six minutes you will split into your units. Prepare for war, and make your peace.”

“You heard the general, dig in,” Cassandra said before stuffing fish and bread into her beak.

Darius broke bread and tried to have his fill in a politer manner than a sister. A solid claw tapped against his shoulder. When he turned, a pair of armored ganissary stood behind him.

“Darius the Second of Clan Ironborn,” yhe first ganissary stated, “Your King now calls in his request of aid he asked of you.”

“Will you fulfill your oath?” the second asked.

Darius stood up, and nodded. He looked over the group. Surprise and confusion covered their faces, except for Cassandra. She was trying to keep up a smile on her beak, but it was not the genuine one she normally wears.

“Take care of yourselves, I expect to see you all of you after this,” Darius stretched out his wings and took flight.

Before anyone could ask the questions burning in their minds, General Isabelle’s voice crossed over the field once again, “Breakfast is over, split off into your units!”

“None of you asses die on me, agreed?” Cassandra said with a wave and a smirk, “I have plans and all your heads need to somehow connected to your butts for any of them to work.”

Celestia watched in the twilight of the morning the grand griffonian army moving and shifting, airships rising. In her magic, she was feeling the mounting pressure.

Her sun had lost most of its momentum she had given it to push through the ether. Its counter-balance of the moon was pressing against the horizon behind her. Celestia didn’t want the day to come, but her duty to the entire world dictated on that moment, the sun must rise.

Her horn ignited in it’s golden glow, reaching out to the massive ball of gas, plasma, and magic. She pushed against the ether keeping the celestial bodies at rest, giving her sun the centrifugal force required to move her charge across the sky.

Celestia was aware she wasn’t alone in this effort. Even being so far away, Celestia could feel Luna’s grip pushing the moon below the horizon, leaving one more sting into Celestia’s heart.

As the sun’s light started falling over the field, the Griffonian airships moved across the sky, turning directly into the wind to vaguely hold their positions. Higher than the rest was the King’s ship, the Sword of the Sky, with it’s balloon proudly displaying the sigil of clan Ironclaw.

Inside of the hull of the ship, Rhosus was sat upon, surrounded by a dozen ganissaries. The Crown was removed from Rhosus’ head, the royal cape was untied and taken from his shoulders. Before him stood Darius, who was staring at Rhosus as one stares at a madman.

“That is your plan?” Darius asked in frustrated disbelief.

“I told you it came with personal risk,” Rhosus affirmed, “Celestia needs to be taken out of this war, you-

“Why do you wish to die?” Darius interrupted.

Rhosus paused, “... I am not taking my own life-”

“You are throwing yourself at Celestia, the shepherd of the sun, so she will do it,” Darius nearly shouted, “You really think this will preserve you honor and soul, that you can just swindle death with this obvious suicide by duel. You think will soar with the Sky as you leave our nation helpless without you, at the beginning of a war?”

Rhosus tried to start again, “Darius-”

“What about me? What about Cassandra? What about Alex?” Darius forced backed the tears, “Are we just not good enough reason to live? Were you lying that we were like your own? Do you think Norah would want this? Do you think Martha would have wanted this?”

Rhosus moved over and hugged his adopted son, “... I would be lying if the temptation of death hasn’t allured me with it’s promise of an end to the pain. However, I am not falling for such seduction today, I know I need to see tomorrow.”

“Celestia moves the sun across the sky,” Darius cried with desperation, “How… How can anything stand up against her and live?”

“She is the shepherd of the sun, but she is still a pony, with limitations on her power,” Rhosus stated to convince both Darius and himself, “Some from without, but most from within. I swear that I will fight to live, fight to stay here with what family I have left.”

Darius stared at the ground.

Rhosus sighed, “Darius, I… Cassandra is often a taxing nightmare, Alex is too naive, and you... I know what… immoral partners you have taken, and your refusal to return to the natural path.”

Darius stiffened within Rhosus’ grip.

“Despite that, you are still my son,” Rhosus said with conviction, “Not as your King, nor as your commander, but as your father, I need you to swear that you will uphold your part in the fight to come, no matter what happens to me.”

Darius meekly replied, “I swear.”

“Thank you,” Rhosus pulled out of the hug, “For now, there is no more to discuss.”

The Ganissaries got to work.

In their hands they held toughest and most protective kind of armor in Griffonia, the Dragon Slayer. Rhosus retracted his wings and kept his tail against his left leg. An additional set of cloth padding was was wrapped around the wings, keeping the wings firmly in place. The tail was tightly tied to the leg before yet another piece of cloth was placed over it. The Ganissaries set about the long task of encasing their king in the armor.

The Dragon Slayer wasn’t an accurate name. In practice, the armor was really the Dragon Distractor. Every piece had to be screwed together, as ties or even metal latches could fail under the dragon’s breath. A glass face mask, tinted black, went over the eyes before the helmet, so no flame’s heat or light would blind the user. The massive shield was riveted to the left arm. Layers and layers of padding decreased the chance of bones being shattered by a drake’s claw. There were hard limits for how much the user could move the limbs, to prevent the user from opening up gaps that could allow the dragon’s searing inferno from touching the skin. The armor forces the user to stand on their hind legs at all times to make the best use out of the shield. To prevent the user from falling over or ruining their spine, supports ran from the torso to the feet, helping with balance and taking off a portion of the armor’s immense weight off of the user.

For any normal battle, it was too heavy, required the soldier move too slow to attack any object or keep up with even the slowest of grounded foes. However it was big, shielded the user from any conventional attack, and was intimidating.

When a dragon was rampaged through Griffonia, and diplomatic solutions had failed, soldiers would dawn Dragon Slayer armors. With magically enchanted jeers, a group would attract the dragon’s attention. They would goad the dragons into a fight that appeared to be a worthy challenge, to get the dragon onto the ground and into the correct position.

With the beast occupied, a stealthier group of soldiers hiding nearby would spring into action, flying swiftly to attack the dragon’s eyes.

The last piece, Rhosus’ helmet, was screwed into place. The Ganissaries stepped aside to allow a team of wizards to work their magics into the metal.

On another airship far below, General Isabelle, General Heyton, Sister Talsa and the heads of the Orders were on making the final preparations. Heyton’s staff had set up a carnival of instruments and ballistic ledgers. Talsa sat with the other sisters in silent prayer. Isabelle was looking over a map.

“I want the bags of gunpowder placed, here, here and here.” Isabelle pointed to several points along the main track to Griffonia, “Have a unit of reserves prepared to detonate in the case of a full retreat. Make sure all unit commanders understand they are only to retreat by going South East over the sea.”

Her hippogriff aid held up a claw, “My commander, General Tran…”

“IF General Tran continues to refuse to see the sanity of a general plan of retreat,” Isabelle shouted, “do not let him or those under your command to hinder your efforts. They are to come to me, or take it up with our King. Is that understood?”

The hippogriff nodded.

On the ground far below, the spear troops were arranged on the ground. Instead of flying in individual units, today they had all been ordered to pack together as closely as possible. It was meant to be an awesome moment. As usual, General Easton was doing everything within his power to crush such excitement with an ‘inspiring’ speech. He was dressed up in armor finer than even the King’s. A pure silver breastplate had been smithed so tightly around Easton’s chest it was a wonder he could breath. His front shoulder pads were massive. While they would look impressive when he stood on his hind legs or took up some flying fighting stance, it just appeared to be unbalanced as he stood on both paw and claw. An oversized buckler was attached to his arm, proudly displaying his clan’s sigil, with ingrained descriptions of the glorious battles he had won despite his leadership. On his belt was his sword, a glorified dagger rich in detail and impossible to hold comfortably, and a fancy wheel lock that was in pristine condition, for it had never actually been fired.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, the dawn’s shine blasted rising light straight into the eyes of many ranks. Thankfully for the crowd, his speech was coming to an end.

“...Furthermore, this day will be a day of the ages. If you act well, your grandchildren will eagerly tell your tales, and history will ascend the masterminds behind our strategy to the status of heroes. I just ask that you do not disappoint.

Easton gave a great bow. So great in fact, that his unbalanced armor made him smack his beak straight into the ground. Still, the good general did it with such grace that only the front few rows noticed. Applause for the speech was short and limited, except from Easton’s political allies.

Neither General Heyton or General Isabelle were in attendance, each concerning themselves with other issues besides their public image or the troops’ moral. Heyton was up above on some airship doing ballistic calculations while Isabelle continued to adjust and readjust the plans of attack and retreat.

General Tran stood behind his colleague, giving a single clap in hope that would satisfy Easton’s ego enough to let a real military commander speak. As the hippogriff wizard placed an enchant on Tran’s throat, the general reflexively hand a claw on his sword. The hippogriff cast the spell and pulled away. General Tran’s eyes followed the hippogriff, attempting to find any deceit in a being Tran refused to trust.

Tran began with his magically enhanced voice, “I have seen many soldiers, many daughters and sons, fight for our crown, our Sky, and our honor. I have seen too many pay by blood for our lives. However, today, we are faced with annihilation. Today’s strategy is unorthodox. Your core, in particular, have been given a duty that seems contrary to honor. A tactic of cowards. However, I am here to assure each and every one of you, the reason you have receive your orders is because Equestria has no honor. Equestria and their Tyrant of the Sun have stolen our lands and slaughtered our future queen.

“The ponies have not earned your blood. They have not earned that honor, so we shall not give it to them. All they have earned is a slaughter. Are you going to let them take your blood?”

In a huge resounding voice, thousands of soldiers lifted their spears and shouted in return.

“NO!”

“Are you going to let them take another inch of our heritage?”

“NO!”

“Will you show mercy for their affront to our honor?”
“NO!”

Trans smiled as he looked upon the legions of griffons, holding their spears together as one. That smile shrank the more and more hippogriffs and ponies he saw among the masses. In his mind, it was unfortunate state of affairs, but one that would be solved another day.

“You shall go out, and prove to Equestria what it means to be a Griffon!”

“Present arms!”

On command, Jaine lifted her musket from the ground and held it against her shoulder facing upwards, with the rest of the musketeers of her corp.

“Prepare powder!”

With her free claw, Jaine took out a powder measure, a simple little syringe like device for loading the gunpowder into the weapon.

“Load weapons!”

The entire Corp switched to holding the guns in a loading position. With a click, Jaine pulled the hammer to half cock, and opened the flash pan. She put the powder measure into the pan and pressed on the button. No powder came out of her powder measure. She shook the device, “Oh you little piece of shit. I didn’t just spend a long night sleeping so close to a hipp… sleeping on a train. You are going to just fucking work I will…”

Jaine took a second look, and realized the locking mechanism was still in place, “Oh.”

She pulled out the locking mechanism with her beak, then poured the first set of powder down into the pan, with a second measure down into the barrel. She reached into her pouch of bullets. Normally she would’ve had to wrap a piece of cloth around the lead projectile, but the army had supplied its soldiers with a factory produced pre-wrapped bullets.

She took her ram rod and shoved the bullet down the barrel.

“Reload powder!”

Jaine opened her measure, and poured a fresh amount of powder into the device from her powder flask.

“Fly in wall formation!”

All the Musketeers flew into the air.

The Griffonian formation took shape.

“A wall formation?” Captain Radiant Blade said as he watched through binoculars, “One giant wall formation?”

“Well what did you expect much from those birdbrains? Competence?” Spitfire shook her head, “I am surprised all of them remembered which end of the spear is the pointy end.”

Soarin snickered.

Night Watch squinted into the light. “It isn’t just that simple. Look, they have a line of shoot sticks about a third of the way up from the bottom. I also think I can see archers peeking over the top of that Griffonian wall.”

Radiant nodded his head slightly, “So there are. Not much to be concerned about. Their sheer numbers will only pose an issue in a protracted fight. We will have to break their moral.”

“Won’t be any problem for you, you old geezer,” Spitfire lightly hit Radiant’s size, “You want to fly over there yourself or do you want your guards to have fun as well?”

Soarin looked at the Griffonian, “The edges of that wall is the only one uniformly armored, I think that is all of their professional spears. The entire center looks like it’s their poor civilians drafted to fight.”

Spitfire smiled, “They’re scared! They are terrified about being hit on the sides by us Wonderbolts!”

Second captain of the royal guard and commander of the ground forces, Tart Bake, pointed at the ground, “They have only a loose collection of less than a thousand armored soldiers on the ground and some of their silly cannons. They shouldn’t put up any kind of fight.”

Amethyst Star held up a hoof. “Radiant, may I have your permission to move our train’s engines to face Equestria while you engage the enemy?”

Radiant turned to Amethyst, “Why would you do that? Do you expect us to retreat?”

“We barely have enough water or food for the next two days,” Amethyst explained, “Even if Celestia condones an invasion, we are going to need to send the train back to pick up supplies and more of our forces.”

Radiant nodded once again, “Reasonable enough. Night Watch, your batponies will stay in the town and by the train as our reserve troops. We will call for you when needed.”

Night Watch’s expression turned sour, “Sir, I will have to object…”

“Objection noted, Provisional Captain,” Radiant Blade cut in, “Your kind is not meant to be up at this hour, and we need the people of Fairbrittle to remain calm.”

Night Watch bowed her head, “Yes sir.”

Radiant turned to the rest, “Spitfire, you will take the Wonderbolts around their side. Fly fast and hit whatever vulnerable targets you find.”

Spitfire saluted.

“Tart, take our unicorns and Earth Ponies along the ground, smash that tiny force and then march on their train and camp.”

Trat nodded, tightening his helmet with his magical grip, “I only wish the grounded parts of the guard could be of more assistance, sir.”

“I know my friend, another time,” Radiant said, “Finally, I will take the pegasus portion of the guard into a spear head formation. We will smash directly into their weak center, and keep pushing forward until we see our Princess’s sun. With any luck, those conscripts will break on our impact, and trigger a rout for the whole army.”

“What about the airships?” Amethyst Star inquired.

Radiant Blade smiled, “Why should we be concerned with those flying boats? Once this battle is over, we will capture those crude pleasure craft and sell them to some noble who can’t afford a fancier flying yacht.”

Radiant turned to his silence princess, “Princess Celestia, are my order sufficient?”

Celestia did not respond, she was looking up into her sun. The Griffonian army flew into the air, blocking out the light of her personal star. Griffon airships blotted the sky, one covered with a huge banner, a iron claw balled into a fist. A great sigh passed through her lips.

“Radiant, you will bring your troops into a formation, and counter any attack they make against my little ponies,” Celestia stood up, “However, you will not fly forward in any other circumstance. Is that understood?”

“Princess…” Radiant began.

“Is that understood?” Celestia shouted.

Radiant bowed his head, “Yes your majesty.”

“I am not going to let any of my little ponies die,” Celestia’s horn began to glow, “Peace is not lost.”

Her ancient battle armor circled around her body held in a golden aura. Each piece flew into it’s place, latching together in a song of metallic clicks. Finally her helmet descended down her horn and was affixed to her head.

It was time.

Celestia picked up a dozen of closest pegasus guards in a magical grip. They were fast, but she needed to be immediate.

With a single powerful beat of her wings, Celestia and her guards were in the air. Beating faster and faster, a mach cone formed around her body. She couldn’t break through it, but she came very, very close. Celestia was across the field in seconds, decelerating a thousand feet from her target just to make sure her guards survived.

Celestia looked down upon Rhosus’ airship. The deck was empty except for one lone griffon, completely covered in armor.

She could sense all the charms and enchantments covering that suit without even trying. As her magic probed deeper, Celestia found those enchantments to all be defensive, magic to insure the wearer remained alive.

“Celestia,” Rhosus’ voice, saturated with both anger and despair, called from the armor.

A golden aura burst to life around Celestia horn as she scanned the ship. The only magic on the ship itself was ingrained into Rhosus’ armor. There were no other griffons, no other life forms, and there wasn’t even any kegs of the griffon gunpowder she so utterly despised. The only thing she sensed was Rhosus, his armor, and a slowly dying engine, just keeping the ship standing still against the wind.

Foolishly, Celestia hadn’t considered to scan the balloon.

Celestia broke her arcane grip on her guards, “Stay here. I am going to end this alone.”

The pegasus guards gave her a reluctant nodded. Celestia landed on the deck of the ship.

As soon as her hooves touched the deck, the air became saturated with magic. An arcane bubble surrounded the airship, locking Celestia inside. The guards pounded uselessly against the magical shield.

“Neither of us is going anywhere while I stand,” Rhosus finally stated.

Celestia felt the shields source, from the hull of the other airships, from hundreds of different hippogriff wizards, all using Rhosus’ armor as a conduit.

“King Rhosus Ironclaw II, I will not allow this madness will not go further,” Celestia interrupted in Royal Canterlot voice, magic charging upon her horn. A beam of destructive force shot out, smacking into the side of shield. She poured more and more energy in her attempt to break out. However, the shield remained.

Celestia continued, “I know you are grieving. I know that you hurt, I know how much it hurts, but nobody else has to die.”

King Rhosus stood in place and said nothing.

Celestia took a step closer, “Why are you leading your nation to destruction? Would Norah want this?”

At the name, even under his armor, Celestia saw Rhosus flinch, but once again he said nothing.

“I brought Equestria’s army here today, but we still do not need to have a war,” Celestia stated with slowly building desperation, “Turn around, and bring your warriors home. My guards will not move an inch further into your lands. We can still resolve this in peace. The destined future can still be preserved.”

As Celestia spoke, on the opposite side of the battlefield, Radiant looked at the arcane shield in panic. Her orders to hold position had been clear, and her word to him was law. Yet, she was now trapped behind enemy lines, an act of diplomacy cut with treatory.

In the back of his mind, the statement he swore to become a member of the royal guard came to his mind.

“From this day until the end of my service is to the defense of my Princess, her ponies, and the realm.”

The path was clear.

“Equestrians!” Radiant yelled in a booming voice that spread throughout the ranks, “Those beasts have betrayed our Princess Celestia! Honor your first duty! Protect the crown! CHARGE!”

The dusty horns of Equestria’s war machine rang out across the battlefield. The Griffonian drums of war answered them.

Celestia turned her head at the noises looking on in horror as the Equestrian lines advanced.

“Celestia, that is why I am here,” Rhosus began, “In the last thousand years, you have sat by and let Equestria fall to corruption and rot. You have insulted my family and my nation merely through your inaction.”

A slow grind rang out as Rhosus unsheathed his arming sword, “By the blood of my mother and the blood of my father,” From his shielded arm, he held out his one unarmored talon, “I, King Rhosus of Clan Ironclaw, second of my name, bring this challenge and bind it with this oath.” Rhosus sliced into the talon, let a line of blood, “You let Norah, one of the blood of my mother and the blood of my father, die. For this insult, I challenge you to combat, only to be resolved by those of the blood of my mother and my father, and those of the blood of your mother and your father. If you accept, I give an oath to restrain the bloodlust of my people, and spare as many of your ponies as I can.”

Celestia looked down to her army, charging in opposition of her orders, and the line of blood on Rhosus’ blade. Tired, filled with shame and defeat, Celestia closed her eye and nodded. The golden magical aura swirled around Celestia’s horn.

Rhosus had barely raised his shield when it was hit by a massive burst of magic.

On the field, the Equestrian forces continued their flight forward. Spitfire led the Wonderbolts ahead of the main pegasus force, heading to the Northern end of the Griffonian formation to flank the massive spear wall.

Then the Griffonian cannons blasted to life. Fired from the airships, iron and lead cannon balls flew at the main Equestrian force. Several twisted and flew away, others were aimed too low and fell short, but enough hit the cone of pegasi. With the high weight and momentum, the handful of balls that hit punched their way through armor, skin, and bones, rarely being halted by the body of a single pony.

Wallace felt a knot in his stomach. The archers were deployed just behind the top row of griffons. They could only barely see the approaching pegasus army through the wall of their own pike troops. A female griffon to his left was outright groaning in impatience.

A firework was fired from one of the airships and burst in a green flame. All the archers nocked their arrows to the strings and lifted their bows to the full 45 degrees. Wallace looked through the troops and adjusted his aim towards the very tip of the formation. A second firework was launched and burst into a red flame. Wallace released his thumb to let the arrow fly.

Wallace was nocking his next arrow when the deafening blasts of the airship cannons fire erupted across the field.

Radiant’s eyes steeled himself as he watched the cloud of griffon arrows rose. He pulled back his legs under his body and flapped his wings rapidly, trusting his armor to protect the rest of him. The Spearhead flew into the volley of arrows just as much as the arrows fell onto them. One arrow banged into his helmet. Pain radiated from the impact, but Radiant ignored the ultimately minor injury.

Most of the arrows bounced harmlessly against the armor. However others found their mark. Several of the guards who hadn’t pulled in their limbs had been punished with an arrow through the leg. Others were unlucky enough to be hit in their exposed wings. The only immediate guard deaths caused by the first arrow volley were those felled when arrows found their way into the helmets eyegap.

The badly wounded fell from the formation, turned around, and glided back towards Equestria’s camps, for Celestia’s combat doctrine emphasized guard survival over anything else.

The much faster Wonderbolts had passed the northern flank of the Griffonian. The professional griffonian flank did not react to the Wonderbolts movements. Spitfire wanted to quickly charge into the Griffonian archers or muskets, but entirety of the Griffonian Youth Brigade stood in their way.

Cassandra was among them, inching to just charge in and take on the legendary Wonderbolts, but hovered in place as ordered. When the Wonderbolts moved up, the Youth Brigade flew up. When the Wonderbolts dived down, the Youth Brigade fell down as well. While unable to match the Wonder Bolt’s speed, the Youth Brigade had three times the Wonderbolts number and were able to still effectively shadow the Wonderbolts movements.

The main Equestrian force had come within range of the musketlines.

“Ready arms!”

Jaine’s entire gun formation cocked the hammer on their loaded muskets. She could vaguely hear the command repeated down the massive line of gunners.

“Angle!”

The command held out her own musket at an angle pointed up to the rapidly nearing Equestrian soldiers. The formation roughly aimed in the same direction. The commanders remained silent, waiting for the right moment...

“FIRE!”

In unison, thousands of Griffonian musketeers fired up into the Equestrian guards. Unlike the arrows, which were falling onto the pony’s heavily armored back, the vast majority of the bullets were firing up into the nearly unprotected undersides.

Some of the bullets were caught in the chainmail, but so many more found their way into the belly and limbs of Equestrian soldiers.

Through the white smoke, Jaine gazed at the flocks of dead guard, falling from the formation towards the ground so far below.

She fumbled with her weapon, ready to reload on command.

“Fall back!”

The entire wall of musketeers retreated back out of their position between the blocks of pikes and spears. As soon as they were clear, the lower spears flew up, closing the gap.

“Prepare powder!”

Jaine began the reloading procedure anew.

At the tip of Equestria’s charged, Radiant looked on as so many of the men he had grown to see as brothers just drop to the ground. Pride was replaced with fury. Fury gave into blind rage.

Without warning, he hefted up his weapon, and fired the bullet. In the plan this would lead to a single heavy barrage from Equestria’s side before the final impact.

A few fired with their commander. However, the vast majority of the Royal Equestria Guards tried to feel for the trigger on a weapon so many were unfamiliar with. What was meant to be a single barrage was instead dozens of bursts as individuals guards managed to remembered how to fire their unergonomic weapons at different times. The green smoke and loud noise caused a few to panic within Equestria’s own ranks, as they had never been accustomed to mass gunfire.

Despite this, the tactic appeared to have the desired effect. Before Radiant’s eyes, the Griffionian center started to receded before his charge. Victory appeared to be assured.

Yet, the center did not break. It was not a rote or even a retreat, but a trap. As the center retreated, Griffonian flanks to the sides, above, and below remained stationary. The Equestrian army was charging straight into it’s own envelopment.

The Griffonian center once again hovered firm, holding a mix of spears, great axes, and halberds out. A massive wall of blades ignited the natural instincts of all the Equestrian guards. Those at the front tried to stop, tried to avoid the wall of death, but were forced forward by those behind them.

What was meant to be a single lethal impact and breakthrough was a weak push, the Equestrian guards now surrounded on three sides by Griffonian spears, with the strongest and most battle hardened griffons on Equestria’s vulnerable flanks.

Behind the Griffonian lines, the Youth Brigade and the Wonderbolts continued their deadly aerial dance. Neither side had moved closer to the other. Despite that Spitfire kept pushing her troops to outfly the much larger but slower Youth Brigade. Soarin’s wings stung from the constant full speed flight, and among the Wonderbolts he wasn’t alone. However, it was clear the Youth Brigade were in a much worse state.

Spitfire shouted to her troops, “They are tired, this is our chance. I just need one more push, just one final sprint, and we can leave these children sucking our tails! Wonderbolts, FLY!” She sped up into the air.

Cassandra looked at the Wonderbolts ascending, readied her exhaust wings to follow.

“DOWN!” her commanders shouted.

Confusion flowed through the Youth Brigade’s ranks, but everyone, including Cassandra complied.

Spitefire smiled as the Youth Brigade appeared to give up the chase, leaving absolutely nothing between the Wonderbolts and the airships. Nothing to protect the Griffonian airships from a destruction, and nothing in the way of the airship’s cannons.

Unlike the frontal charge, those cannons were no longer loaded with single projectiles, but cannister shot. Thousand of projectiles erupted from the cannons towards the Wonderbolts.

Before Soarin’s eyes, Spitfire disintegrated into a cloud of blue and red. A third of all the Wonderbolts were dead in an instant.

Where dedication, bravery, and the desire to improve himself had once lived in Soarin’s soul, there was suddenly only one desire, a deep instinct he had not felt before, the need to run.

In moments, Cassandra watched the surviving Wonderbolts break apart and retreat away in any and every direction.The main

Flying three rows in the Griffonian spearlines, Shear Terrace hovered. On the outside, she was hovering with determination. On the outside, she appeared to be slightly shaking, the smile on the outside implied the shaking was from adrenaline. On the outside, the pegasus appeared to have no fear at all.

“This is the Sky’s will,” Shear reasoned with herself, “I have to earn the Sky’s forgiveness… I just need… I just need to kill them, and everything… everything will finally be right… I can’t be afraid, I can’t be afraid.”

The griffon soldier at the front had tired out, squeezing back between the lines to the back. Shear was pressed forward.

To calm her nerves, Shear bit down on her worn out spear.

The soldier at the front of the line screamed in agony. The griffon had taken a speak to her armpit. The griffon was able to stab back into her Equestrian foe in an more immediately lethal attack, but retreated back, Shear felt little bits of blood hit her coat as the griffon flew back. Now, only one soldier stood between Shear and the front line.

Shear’s heart was pounding in her ears, gripping so tightly to her spear that her fletlocks hurt. She could clearly hear the carnage as so many on both sides were being cut down. A rhythmic clash of metal against metal, like the gears of a factory.

She didn’t notice the advantage the Griffonian forces had. She didn’t even realize she was slowly flying forward as the entire formation pressed in on the depleting Equestrian forces. Her eyes were glued to the clash of spears happening right before her.

“Sky, please, just once please, listen to my prayer,” Shear thought as tears welled up in my eyes, “I know I am the spawn of the Arcane, but please, I want to serve you. I want to be free. Just, just this once, grant me the courage to-”

A spear point came through the back of the neck of the griffon on the front lines. The Equestria soldier pulled his spear out of his foes neck. The griffon soldier breathed his last, his body falling down out of the way.

Shear slowly moved forward to take her place in the carnage. The Equestrian guard in front of her looked at Shear, a pony fighting for the griffons. He jabbed forward, trying to silence the perceived traitor with one stab.

Shear’s muscles remembered their training, parrying the jab faster than her mind was able. She neither noticed nor cared about the battle around them. The guard pushed to kill the treasonist to the pony race, Shear desperately tried to stay alive. In anger, the guard finally made a mistake. He extended out, in a strike aimed at Shear’s neck as Shear made her own jab. More of blind panic than any sort of plan, Shear twisted out of the way of the strike, the spearhead glancing off her helmet.

As the guard tried to pull his weapon back, she stabbed forward, driving her spearhead under the chainmail into the pony’s unprotected chest. Death fell over the Equestrian guard. Lancet pulled her weapon from her foe with a slow sickening squish as the blade cut back through muscle.

Her duty had been done, that guard was the first thing she had ever killed, the second thing she had ever watched die. As the guard’s limp body fell to the earth, Shear did not feel a swell of pride, a sense of accomplishment of enacted honor. She just wanted to vomit.

However, there was no time to consider her actions, no time to atone for what she had done, another foe moved into position. Shear began the fight for survival once more.

Seventeen positions to the left and four positions below Shear was a completely different story. Lancet was not at the verge of sickness or panic. A smile plastered her face as she went through the deadly dance.

Just as with her competition sparring, Lancet’s cutie mark pushed her along as her guide. Unlike the competition sparring, in battle Lancet held nothing back. Feint to the eye to make her victim flinch then followup with a jab into the chest. Give a cut to the unarmored knee and slice a vein in the leg to make her enemy bleed. She never made a strike until her enemy made a mistake.

She slashed upwards, catching an Equestrian guard that wasn’t paying attention below himself. As the guard screamed as his leg bled, a griffon took the distraction and ended the guard’s life. The griffon took a moment to look down and smile in thanks. It warmed Lancet’s heart. She always loved to help.

Rhosus’ personal airship was in ruins. Celestia had blasted large chunks out of the hull, some from misaimed blasts, others from where she had telekinetically ripped bits of the ship to use as projectiles. Thankfully the shield keeping them in had survived Celestia’s blows, and balloon had remained largely untouched.

The King was exhausted from their duel, his hind legs burned from fighting in such massive armor. Rhosus’ ribs were broken, the shield designed to take the blows of a dragon’s claw was bent, a sword designed to hold out inside the hottest fire had partially melted. Burns covered his body, pain covered his body.

Princess Celestia was still standing strong. She had no technique behind her attacks, centuries of being out of practice had left her only with her raw magical strength and frustration at her disposal, but she more than enough of both. Rhosus had spent this entire fight so intent on staying alive that he hadn’t even landed a blow on her. Not that striking her down with his short sword was ever part of Rhosus’ plan.

All Rhosus needed was for Celestia to move to be facing the opposite direction, but Celestia had refused to even move from where she had landed. On the point of collapsing from exhaustion, Rhosus tried on last desperate gambit.

As Celestia prepared another attack, Rhosus managed to call upon what little strength his legs to just charge forward. He deflected the magical blow, continuing forward, readying a strike, only to trip and fall as his foot caught on one of the many holes now littering the deck. The impact sent a stinging pain up his shielded arm.

However, even this blunder provided the desired result, Celestia turned. Step by step Celestia walked till she was over Rhosus. He held out his shield in pitiful attempt to defend himself. The armors enchantments had prevented Celestia from simply magically gripping Rhosus and throwing him around like a rag doll, but it provided no protection from her immense earth pony derived strength. Her hoof pounded down against the shield, bending the metal, further breaking the arm holding it, and pushing the air out of Rhosus’ lungs. Again and again until finally the shield broke in two, breaking the conduit and bringing down the arcane bubble that had contained them both.

Celestia’s guards had been untouched throughout the battle, but had been stunned at what they had just witnessed.

“Rhosus,” Celestia stated between heavy breaths, “Yield.”

Rhosus continued to breath in, trying to replace the lost air to reply back.

“I do not wish to kill you,” Celestia said, the anger leaving her voice, “I do not wish to even fight you. I just want to protect my ponies. If you do not, I will throw myself into your soldiers. Do not force me to bring my full wrath upon them to protect Equestria.”

Rhosus bowed his head. His breathing became steady as he forced air back into his compressed lungs. Rhosus finally shouted a single word.

“DARIUS!”

Darius moved into action. Before the fight, he had hid, waiting patiently as he hung from the far side of the balloon with his great axe. The screams of Rhosus had been heartbreaking, but Darius had remained at his post, waiting for Rhosus to give the command.

Darius pushed himself from the balloon, ascending only for a moment, looping into the air. He spun himself, expertly flew parallel to the airship’s deck straight at Celestia, axe ready to swing.

If Celestia had maintained the combat training and practice she had under her youth, she would have sent multiple magical attacks behind her to thwart the ambush. If Celestia had maintained the combat practice and training that she expected of her royal guard, she would have dived out of the way of the attack. If Celestia had maintained any combat practice at all, she might have even thrown up a arcane shield to defend herself. However, after centuries of no practice, after centuries of her combat skills being atrophied into non-existence, Celestia only turned her head.

Darius cleaved his axe, not aiming at her neck or head, but at Celestia’s horn. The great axe’s shaft shattered upon impact, as it was weaker than the magical material within Celestia’s horn. Yet, the metal cut in deep enough to crack Celestia’s horn.

The defensive spell Celestia’s had been conjuring burst out of the crack, blasting the area in blinding light, and sending Celestia off the side of airship.

Duty fulfilled, Rhosus finally accepted the exhaustion and collapsed.

The blast of light shone across the battlefield. Most of the Equestrian pegasus formations lines were blinded by the blast, while the majority of Griffonia’s forces had been spared, as they had been facing the other direction. As the Equestrians were left blinking the spots out of there eyes, the Griffonians pressed their advantage, slaughtering more of their sightless foes.

Radiant swung his spear in confusion, through blind luck manage to hit away most of the strikes aimed at his body. The blinding white of his vision faded, except for one spot.

Radiant blinked away what appeared to be a mere after image of the blast. However, it was no illusion. Sailing towards the ground, the white limp form of Celestia slowly descended, with all the grace and elegance as a falling corpse. He didn’t even notice the shapes of Celetia’s personal guards rushing to catch their princess.

“Celestia is dead!”
“The sun is bucking dead!”
“They are going to eat us!”
“RUN!”
The famed pegasus Equestria Royal Guards, a proud force that has stood strong for a thousand years under Celestia’s light, began a collapse into chaos. The pegasi in the back began to flee in mass, some even in the front dropped their weapons, desperately pushed through their own lines to escape.

“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” Raidant cried at the top of his lungs, “HOLD YOUR GROUND! YOUR PRINCESS IS IN PERIL! WE MUST BREAK THROUGH! WE MUS-!”

A quiet slice cut out his next word. Radiant wanted to say more, but his voice failed before it even reached his lips. The Captain of the Guard looked down at the halberd in his neck. He felt the blood oozing from the wound, but he didn’t feel the pain. He traced the blade’s shaft, not to a claw of a griffon, but a hoof of a pony. It was a pegasus mare, wearing a big smile.

Even as his wings went weak and darkness consumed his sight, Radiant could not bring himself to look away from the sweet smile that killed him.

Equestria’s ground forces for the moment were unaware of what was happening above them. Their charge forward had become a slow trot through sticky mud. Lines of magical shields protected the earth ponies and unicorns, but the mages maintaining that protection were being strained from a constant barrage. The griffons before them were only just in range of mage blasts. Even as a few of griffon’s numbers fell, they remained utterly still and eerily quiet.

Prace Prix was in the front lines, his stomach growling from being denied it’s alcoholic nectar, horn aching from it’s blackened wound, and frustrated for being forced to walk as an equal to commoner guards.

Another pegasus corpse smashed into the ground from the air just a couple of yards . The unicorn legions seemingly have gotten used to such a sight, Prace barely flinched.

A shootstick fell against the shield and splintered. Then a second. Then a third. Yet, pegasuses bodies didn’t immediately follow. Prace looked up, his eyes widened.

The pegasus lines had crumbled. Even from the ground, Prace could tell this was no organized retreat with any intent to regroup and charge again. This was a rout. The desperate mob flying in any direction trying to just get away, dropping their weapons as they fled. The same weapons that were now falling straight towards them.

The hailstorm of discarded spears smashed against the unicorns shields. Several shields collapsed immediately. The most of these guards were caught entirely off guard, dying instantly as spears traveling at near terminal velocity hit their helmets and cracked open their skulls. The shield above Prace’s head managed to hold, but cracks covered the surface. The unicorn maintaining the shield started to shriek in pain as the effort became too great.

In this world of wood splintering, yells of pain and terror, and the roar of cannon fire, a faint sound rumbled across the field, the sound of a horn.

In a daze, Prace looked back to the griffon on the ground. The previously motionless armored warrior were charging forward. There was another sound, a dull rumble that only got louder. The shouting of terror was becoming more distant. Prace turned around. The rest of Prace’ unit had given into the fear. The proud and noble legions had given up and were in a frenzied gallop away.

Without even feeling his legs move, Prace was one of them.

The Griffonian forces, the archers, the muskets, the Youth Brigade, and even the spear wall started their pursuit. The Youth Brigade set to hunt down the various remains of the wonderbolts, the main spear lines pursued the Pegasus guards, and the skirmishing muskets and archers attacked the fleeing ground forces.

Arrows landed all around Prace. Earth ponies and unicorns were brought down by bullets and bows. There was no way they could outrun the hail of projectiles of the flying Griffonian forces.

Grand looked forward, jumping over the screaming body of another guard, at what first appeared to be another set of griffons flying down at him from the front. However, he realized it was not griffons, but it was the Lunar guards instead.

The reserve of bat ponies charged into the Griffonian musket and archers, twin hoof blades slicing in all directions. Most of the Griffonians scattered away from the charge. With a temporary relief, the Lunar guards started to pick up their earth pony and unicorn comrades, flying away as fast as their leathered wings allowed.

A bright smile crossed Grand’s face as a bat pony descended towards him.

Far above and far behind Grand, Wallace spotted Grand’s shining and richly decorated armor among the unicorn crowd. Nocking an arrow into his bow, Wallace looked around to see if any Lunar Guards were near. All the closest bat ponies were either exchanging blows with musketeers using their guns as clubs, or chasing around other archers. Wallace pulled back the string, aimed at Grand’s neck, and let loose.

It was a quick shot, the arrow was aimed slightly to low. It didn’t arch into the exposed part of Grand’s neck, it hit his leg instead.

A shooting pain emitted from Grand’s calf, blood trickling down to the hoof. He started to swear out in pain. His bat pony savior paused in concern.

“What the buck are you waiting for?” Grand shouted, “Pick up your superior, you bucking rat with wings!”

The Lunar Guard looked as if he had just been buck in the face. Grand’s anger morphed into regret as the bat pony flew off, and picked up an earth pony instead.

“Wait! I’m sorry! I…” Grand watched the bat pony fly away. He tried to run, but fell down the moment he put any weight on the wounded leg. Without options, Grand crawled to a crater created by some inaccurate cannonball.

Another pony had the same idea. An unicorn laid in the mud, breathing through his nose and bleeding from a stump limb. The guard was young, fresh out of academy and appeared to be almost half Grand’s age.

The breathing weakened, every breath a greater labor. Even though Grand was staring at the boy in the dying breaths, Grand was unsure when the fellow guard actually died.

As he was sharing a hole with fresh corpse, Grand’s mind considered his situation, “Some damn griffon is going to find me here… Will… will they kill me? Do they eat the prisoners? No… I am sure they keep some of the prisoners alive… even if it’s just to save them for later. Wait… I am Duke Consort Grand Prix, of the noble house of Detch and married to one of the powerful ponies alive. I am part of noble society, I am valuable, I am...”

“...Part of the family whose land grab started this war.” Utter dread filled Grand’s being, “If they find me… they are not going to eat me, they are going to torture me, roast me and serve me to their dogs while I am still alive.”

Grand looked at his dirty but nobly expensive armor and then the standard issued of the corpse.

In a frenzied pace, Grand struggled with the latches keeping the armor around his barrel. Without his horn, there was no elegance, just clumsy hooves pounding against metal. His army name crest, proudly declaring his name and nobility, fell from his armor. It was swiftly buried.

As more blood ran down Grand’s legs, his mind became dazed, his throat begging for any drink, liquor or water. However, the determination for survival push Grand on. With his own armor gone, Grand used his teeth to unlatch the armor of the corpse, and then put it on himself. Grand looked upon the corpse’s crest

Twink Auro of Canterlot

No noble house
Unicorn.

Grand attaches the last piece of armor. With his hooves, Grand half buries the armor and poor soldier. Thinking becomes increasingly difficult. Grand stumbles out of the pit, dragging the bad leg, barely aware of his own yells for mercy. As unconsciousness took him, he was dimly aware of a griffon landing before him.

The final pocket of Equestrian resistance was surrounding the train the Equestrian forces had arrived on. Batponies that were not carrying their fellow ponies were erratically flying in the air above the train, distracting the Griffonian forces and preventing them from reorganizing into unified formations. Members of the engineering corp were firing crossbow bolts at any Girffonian soldier that came into range.

Panicking soldiers and terrified civillians pushed their way into the train cars. At what was once the caboose of the entire line, the two train engines whistled back to life as engineers furiously shovelled coal into the flames. A set of emergency harnesses were attached to the front of the train, room for six of abnormally strong earth ponies to assist the train to reaching full speed. Five were already

Amethyst Star shouted above the crowd, “Where is Boulder Cramp? I need all the strength talent earth ponies up here!”

Amethyst felt a tap on the back. As she turned, she found Maud was standing before the train.

“I can pull,” said Maud.

“Civilian, any pony weaker than the rest would only slow the rest down,” Amethyst Star yelled at Maud, “I do not have time-”

Maud raised her front left hoof and slammed it into the ground. It cracked deeply into the earth, creating a vibration everyone around her felt.

Maud was hurried into position and strapped to the train.

“Is everypony out?” Amethyst Star asked an assistant.

The aid scratched the back of his head, “Mostly ma’am.”

Amethyst Star grit her teeth, “Mostly?”

The aid gulp, “Many of the ponies refused to leave their homes, they didn’t seem to believe the griffons would hurt them.”

Amethyst Star closed her eyes for the moment, “... We don’t have time to get them without losing everypony else… We are leaving immediately! Everypony onto the train!”

The wheels of the train turned. Maud took one slow and deliberate step forward, feeling much of weight of the train’s inertia working against her. The ground sank beneath her. Maud not only called upon her strength, but also her magic upon the earth to give her a stronger platform to push against. Another slow step. The next step was however slightly faster than the first. Her steps became a trot, then a run, then a gallop. Maud ignored the tightness of the harness and the weight behind her, she kept moving, keeping her family’s rock farm in the front of her mind.

On the deck of the commanding airship, the four Griffonian generals looked on as the train thundered away.

“A victory for the histories!” General Easton stated with a puffed out chest, “A day for prestige shall be immortalized and we ever glorified for it! Once we capture the rest of their forces on that train...”

“Easton, the King’s rules of engagement were clear,” General Isabelle cut in, “This is a civilized war. No unnecessary butchery.”

“Well in this case it is obviously necessary,” Easton rolled his eyes, “Heyton, didn’t you estimate a third of their forces were arrayed against us on this day? We hunt down the rest and Equestria wouldn’t ever be able to stand before us ever again.”

General Heyton scratched her chin, “That is one possible from that course of action. However, that doesn’t take into account the potential forces Equestria could muster if introduced even the most basic of drafts.”

“Maybe, but we would have taken their entire eastern coast by then, so full formal surrender would surely follow,” Easton turned to General Tran, “Tran, agree with me for once, you are obligated to understand that hunting them down is the quickest way to get all the honor you want.

“Call off the pursuit,” Tran didn’t return Easton’s gaze.

Easton blinked, “Excuse me, please correct my hearing, you want to…”

Tran turned to Easton, “Call off the pursuit.”

Easton stood in stunned silence.

“Despite years of experience, you still don’t understand cowards do you?” Tran asked hypothetically.

Easton eyes narrowed at the veiled insult.

“Doesn’t matter what creature a coward is, all cowards are the same,” Tran continued, “Give them an exit, a escape, the possibility of avoiding death, they will take it. Yet, even the dirtiest of cowards will find the warrior’s will if boxed in. We stop that confounded locomotive, the cowards that run will fight with unseen ferocity for any pony, taking down many of our griffons with earning that honor. By letting them run today, we teach all the cowards of Equestria one very important lesson. If they run, we let them run.”

Author's Note

Historical Notes:

Swords, bows, and spears continued to find use on battlefields long after the adoption of firearms. For many armies in the late medieval period in Europe and through the warring states period in Japan, guns were a support weapon, often used to lay a massive amount of fire at once to disrupt a charge, or scare off calvary or less disciplined troops. Units of guns and spears were combined for a particularly effective tactic called pike and shot, where the long pikes prevented any force from getting too close to the gunners.

Most battles in history didn't end with the total death of one side, but one side losing the will too fight anymore and just running away in blind panic. Sometimes one side didn't have to be losing a battle by much, if at all, when some event sapped the armies moral and sent them packing. In the Battle of Waterloo, Napoleon had been fighting more or less evenly with the Duke of Wellington, with both sides having triumphs and losses, when he sent forth his infamously invincible Old Guard towards the British lines. However, the Old Guard was caught by surprise when they were hit by a massive barrage of musket fire. The Old Guard started to retreat. As the rest of the French army saw the legendary troops of the Old Guard falling back, they assumed the battle had been lost and ran away.