The last human war.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used in this fan fic. all rights are reserved to Hasbro, the owners of My little pony: Friendship is magic
Author’s note: This is a short story I wrote wile feeling particularly like waging war on something, and slaughtering hordes of men and women, with a really big axe... but alas I came to my scenes.
Hate it, love it, I don’t really care, I wrote it and put it up here, so be it. But feel free to point out flaws in the grammar and spelling, whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.
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There he stood looking out over the endless field, covered in hordes of Battle ready ponies, all glaring daggers at him. He was human, he was a warrior and he wouldn't just sit idly by as his friends were unjustly executed.
There where no guns here, no canons, no rifles, only sword, spears and magic for those who could wield it, maybe that was a good thing. He didn't want to fight them, he didn't want to spread the sorrow of war. A storm of tears and anger welded up in him.
A carriage came down from the sky apparently out of nowhere, accompanied by knights in golden armor. It stopped behind him forcing his back against the armies of the sun.
A large white presence stepped out of the golden trimmed carriage.
“You are here to negotiate my surrender, yes?” The human said as he lifted his heavy steel plated helmet of the ground and tucked it under his arm.
“I am prin-” She was cut short by the human.
“I know who you are, your the big dog, número uno, the big boss...” He took a deep breath “you are princess Celestia of Equestria, the royal pain that took my friends,” He almost spat the words, but not in hate or anger, but in a calm monotone voice that was more frightening than even the loudest battle cry.
A guard approached with a unpleasant look on his face.
“You are in the presence of a goddess! Show some respect!” He was about to give the human a good smack across the face.
This act of aggregation was met by a powerful bash by the humans shield, knocking him on the ground. He stepped on the stallions neck and turned to Celestia, who was as calm as the wind
“Is he important?” He asked in the same calm indifferent voice as before.
“A mere palace guard.” She said trying to read the humans mind, trying to determine what he would do next.
The human turned to the terrified stallion under his boot.
“Do you have a family?” The question shocked the guard.
“wah,... eh ,. what?” Was all the dazed stallion could muster.
“A family, a wife, a child, ponies close to your heart? Do you have a life worth living!?” The human said, raising his voice to clarify his point.
“Um... yes... Yes a beautiful wife, and a little filly” He mustered barely avoiding crying.
“How old” The humans questions was starting to resemble demands.
“Just under a year” His tears and sobs clear for all to see, the pain in his neck was nothing compared to the fear of never seeing his own again.
They all watched as the human pulled out a large broadsword from behind his back inspecting it.
The entire bulk of the guard strained them selfs ready to leap forward and take any blow he might give. Even the princess was growing anxious.
After what seemed like an eternity he finally spoke.
“I am not the spreader of sorrow and pain, I kill but a do not want to... a war with only one man... heh, seems silly for them all to die” He lowered his sword, the tip almost touching the stallions neck.
“This doesn't have to happen” Celestia said, concerned of what may happen next.
He started to apply pressure to the neck of the hulking stallion before he pulled his foot away, and raised his sword high. Celestia closed her eyes awaiting a spry of warm blood and the sound of cracking bones. But in stead there she was blessed by the sound of a metal edge driving trough earth.
“If it comes to it, I will stay my hand on the battlefield” He said with a sad and warm voice, as he helped the frighted and tear soaked stallion to his hooves. He tuned to Celestia as the stallion was helped away by his fellow guards. Her face was a mix of terror and wonderment.
“I will give up my campaign...” The silence was corrupted only by the sound of a sword that was pulled out of the ground. “...if my friends are returned to me, unharmed...” He walked up to her face to face, almost touching noses. “...and if we get to hold a public announcement.”
“A... are those your conditions? no protection? No political immunity?” she said with surprise, and fear of him.
“In our last battle a field promotion put me in charge, as the last officer took his last breath, I didn’t want it and I wont have it. We are… were, soldiers following orders, and now I’m the last one left, you are at war with one man.” He said with a smile on his face.
”If somepony want to take up what I have done, I am inclined to answer. And if your laws state that a lone warrior forced in to war by a contract he didn’t sign, is to be blamed so be it” He presented his blade to her.
“I give you my word and my blade that I will resign this war and never bother anypony again, if my brothers and sisters are returned to me” The sword glowed in a soft golden light as it levitated out of his hands. The lone warrior shot open his arms putting his life in the hooves of the sun goddess. He closed his eyes awaiting the response, awaiting his death.
After a long suspenseful silence the sun goddess answered.
“We accept your conditions, there will be no battle” Cheers were heard from the vast armies of the solar empire.
True to her word, the princess let free the human prisoners, but not all. The worrier knew his men and his officers, he knew he had to doom the worst. The ones too indoctrinated by hatred and anger to ever live in peace, had to stay, and die.
He walked and hand picked each and every one of them, he sentenced the captains and generals he swore an oath to, to there death still wearing their emblem. He had become the grim reaper. Not like in war, where he had reaped countless souls in the heat of battle, this time he chose them, HE doomed them, no one else was to blame.
And so he walked out of the prison doors with a few of his brethren leaving the rest. He had spared fifty of his comrades, all the while leaving hundreds of lost souls to die. Now came the part for the people.
They paraded through the streets of Canterlot, sad and defeated with the lone warrior at the tip. There destination, the plaza in front of the main gate. As the broken party of warriors entered the plaza the crowds of ponies booed and spat insults at them.
Only one walked up on the stage and took place behind the podium, the last reminiscence of the human army, the lone warrior.
“I-” He began but was cut off by howls of hate and anger from the crowed. “I... I am sorry!” He yelled out in to the crowed, it went dead silence in a second flat. He took off his helmet and let it fall to the ground, he walked to the edge of the wooden stage and slumped down, letting his feet dangle and hanging his head in defeat.
“I am the last general, the last commander, the last warrior, the last grunt of the greatest army the world have ever seen. And I am sorry for what I, and all my men was forced to do” A deafening silence followed.
“I am no general!” He said as he ripped off his gauntlets.
“I am no commander!” He spat as he tore off his shoulder pads.
“I am no warrior!” The broken old man said flinging his chest plate across the plaza ground.
“I’m not even a worthless grunt” He shot up and kicked his helmet far off in to the distance.
“I’m just a tired old man, tired of war, of death, of suffering” He said turning his back to the crowd and walking out the city, his men walking behind him.
And thus ends the last human war, and the world will hopefully never see the likes of us again.
(HA HA the end. hope you liked it, have a nice day)
The last human war.
Disclaimer.
I do not own the My Little Pony universe, any content, or characters that resign within it.
All official credit go too Hasbro and the directors, writers and artists of the show. Love you guys, keep up the amazing work.
This is simply a fan creation made for pure entertainment reasons.
The day was here. The message was sent and the last invasion was on, there was only one goal in this battle. To end it all.
The combatants were gathered. The great army of the sun, and the scraps of the greatest army in the world. Oh how the mighty have fallen.
Each of the combatants clutch their steel, hoping their blade would strike true, while their armor and shields held strong. And those who dealt in scrolls and robes hoped their knowledge of the arcane would not run dry. Though almost all combatants anyway. There was the last true warrior of the great army. So drastically different from his equine foe.
He stood on his two feet, towering over the fields of ponies from atop the hill, looking out over the potential battle field. He ran his armored hand over his head, gathering the sweat from his brow on his cold glove. The cold was pleasant, making him close his eyes and enjoying the moment of simple joy.
He was the last human warrior, of the great human army. A soldier of a fallen empire and a dying race.
He opened his eyes and let the cool steel of his hand fall too his side, as the sound of several beating wings filled the air. He bent down with a grunt, his armor weighed heavy on his body. Picking up his steel centurion helmet and placing it atop his head once again he looked to the sky, just to gather the last piece of peace he can. He definitely wasn't what he used to be, but he didn't have to be what he was for much longer.
He takes his eyes too a different part of the sky to see four small dots, in a formation around a large chariot, dragged across the dawning sky by two more dots. Which were rapidly approaching his location. In mute anticipation he extends his right arm and wraps his fingers around the hilt of his almost, over sized broad sword. A blade very few could wield effectively. To complete it all he heaves his shield on to his left arm, standing tall and unwavering, armed and ready for battle. If it came to that.
Though as he stood there, awaiting the ruler of this land he got some more time to think. He got to thinking how tired he was of dragging this shield around, how tired he was of being clad in the armor and emblems of his army. How tired he was of the lies everyone spread in the times of war.
How tired he was of spreading sorrow and death with no foreseeable end, of being a reaper on the battlefield... at least some things are going to change, but never undone...
The chariot floats closer and closer until the front formation sets down, quickly trying to lock him down by getting at his sides. As the chariot sets down the two on the back formation, scouts the surrounding area for any hidden forces, or potential assassins..
Soon a white presence steps off the chariot and on to the ground in front of the warrior. Her regal posture and dominating size, setting her above the other ponies. There was a tense moment of silence as everyone stood still, silently sizing each other up. Even Celestia was weary of the bipedal foe.
Finally someone spoke, and of course it had to be the ruler of the sun.
“My name is Cel-” Though she didn't get to complete her sentence.
“I know who you are, you are the weakling, the tyrant, the worthless one.” He says, spewing the propaganda that he had been given from his comrades and superiors. His tone telling quite clear that none of his words were sincerely his own opinion. Though one of the guards didn't seem to gather that.
“You are in the presence of royalty. Show some respect and kneel!” The pony too his left, started an anger filled advance, raising a hoof in to the air, aiming to smack some scene in to the towering human.
Though he didn't get far. The solar guards aggression was quickly met by a swipe of the heavy shield the warrior was carrying, knocking the pony to the ground. The dazed pony quickly found a heavy armored boot on his throat. As the almost deafening sound of a blade being pulled out of the soil filled the air.
The ruler of the land seeming almost like a stone, as she tried to deduce what the warrior would do. It was quit clear by his body language, and what it seemed like he was about too do. But there was something in his eye, behind that helmet. Only someone equally as broken as a veteran of war could read.
“Is he important?” The worrier asked as his blade was pointed straight at the throat of the now helpless stallion. He tired squirming and struggling, fear quickly arising in his eyes as he saw the long, shining, metal point, directed right at his voice box. The rest of the guards were too stunned to really react properly.
The princes of the sun simply shook her head.
“A mere guard, he serves only as security.” She answered honestly. Starting to fear the outcome of this. Though she remained as still as the wind.
The warrior looked from the matriarch too the stallion. The stallion seemed on the verge of tears from both pain and the terror of death. Though he had a grimace that spoke only of hate for the towering human..
“Will you be missed?” The man asked as he held his blade straight at a kill point, all it took was a simple joust of his shoulder and he would have ended a life.
“W-What? What does it concern you?” The stallion groaned, confused and scared, the thought of his family starting to rise in his mind. Softer tears forming in his eyes.
“Do you have a family? A wife? Children? Friends? Do you have a life worth living!?” The standing suit of armor yelled, to make is point, both terrifying the stallion, and interesting Celestia.
The stallion's tears wee starting to role down his cheek as the thought of never seeing his loved ones again assault his mind. He was so broken ho couldn't figth, he couldn't even struggle, he could just shiver.
“Y-Yes, I have an amazing wife, and two beautiful children. Twins, hardly a year old.” He almost sobs out in terror, his strength leaving him as he is consumed by the helplessness of his situation. Praying for his life as the images of his family flashed through his mind.
“I hope you said goodbye too them before you went to war.” The warrior raised his blade in to the air. The stallions, and even Celestia's eyes went wide in horror as the sheen of his steel, light up, before crashing downwards.
Celestia closed her eyes and looked away. Thinking she had been wrong, she had misjudged the warrior and his intentions... Trying too shield her eyes from the impending gore, she had even raised a wing to her own protection. She awaited the soft sound of steel cutting in to flesh and the sound of snapping bone. Waiting for the warm splash of crimson to hit her coat. Yet it never came.
The air instead was blessed by the sound of steel burying itself in the soil, beside the throat of the now sobbing stallion.
“Because, if it comes to it. I will not stay my hand on the battlefield.” He said, taking hos boot of the neck of the stallion, and letting go of his blade, taking a step back.
Celestia looked upon the warrior in wonderment. Wondering what was going though the mans head.
“They are not my thoughts, it is what my officers wanted me to think, But I see past it.” He huffs a little, lowering his guard.
“You surprise me human. Showing mercy is so unlike your race. As well as hiding your forces like this. It seems so unlike you.” Celestia spoke, still a little unsure how to handle this.
“My forces aren't hidden mam... I am everything that is left.” The steel clad man announced, getting a wide look from everyone, even the princess.
“You are fighting a war with only one man. And I see no reason to why we should fight at all to be fair... But you have something... Someone, I want to get back. My friends and my comrades.”
The white monarch stood there, thinking and listening.
“I will give up my campaign Celestia. There will be no blood shed here today if I get to free my brothers and sisters, and hold a public announcement.” He said as he picked up the blade just bellow the guard.
“Or it could end right here. One man against an army... I'm a dead man no matter what.” He says as he offers her the blade.
“Are those your only conditions. No immunity or protection against the ones that might want to seek out vengeance?” The ruler of the land inquired. The worrier just shook his head, a small chuckle on his lips.
“If your laws say, that a lone worrier, who... Yes, have caused untold horrors. Is to be punished for a war he never wanted to fight. A war he only fought to try and keep those he loved safe, and even though he failed too do just that, fighting. Then so be it. Let them come and have my head. I am done with fighting, Let them come, and let them take me. I'll give it to them myself.” He said loud and proud, he knew he's actions were evil in so many way. The broken bodies of his victims, the actions he have done to those still alive... He deserved to be hunted if it came too that.
“I see.” Celestia replied, her horn lighting up, the blade the worrier was offering was quickly enveloped in a golden glow as it lifted out of his hands and in too Celestia's control.
The old soldier opened his arms and have her a clean shot to any vital spot she would like. His life entirely in her hooves.
“There will be no battle. And your demands will be granted.” She finally announced after a long time of silence. The worrier let out a relived breath as the monarch walked past him, facing her great army. Holding the blade up high, priming her royal canterlot voice.
“The battle is won! There is victoy at last!” She announced, in her mighty voice. Many can speculate how she can announce something to an entire army like so, but magic is present in this wolrd. So it is best not to dwell on it to much.
The army let out a collective cheer. The warrior finally letting on a smile behind his helmet, relived that the nightmare will soon be over... But he expects he will not be rid of them entirely.
As the army started to disperse. The ponies and person on the hill took to the sky. The defeated army being invited in to Celestia's chariot for swift travel.
The old warrior gripped the side of his seat, he did not enjoy travel thought the sky, if anything, he disliked it with a passion. But it was the swifts way. It did not on the other hand stop him from giving his armored fingers through the cloth of the seat opposite to the white and golden horse.
Celestia, who just looked at the slightly trembling man.
“Does the lone knight have a name?” She spoke, both out of curiosity and out of an attempt to sooth the worrier's nerves. And to some degree it did, his trembling did not stop, but it did give his mind a respite from the terror of falling.
“Does a man who has as much blood on my hands... Does such a reaper deserve a name?” He asked solemnly. Guilt, but also valor present in his voice.
“I have a name...” Celestia offered with the same monotone voice, but with a hint of a solemn mood, too the warrior. “Despite my deeds.” Her voice was monotone and pleasant as always, but there was something only those who share the same fate in some ways can see. She was grieving over her actions, some recent, some far in the past. But it was clear that they stung with deep pain, and they will always, no matter the time that passes.
The old warrior chuckled a little bit as he lowered his head and looked down on his feet, spots of rust and blood from his last, true battle still clinging to them.
“Solomon. That is my name, and I do not wish it to be remembered in any way. Good nor bad.” He told the sun goddess, who nodded with out of understanding.
The guilt he felt would only grow stronger. Even if he was the one who ended the war, brought peace and was about to free his comrades, it would serve as a reminder of his deeds regardless. And the bad outweighs the good, so very easily in his mind.
The rest of the travel was done in silence between the two. Both of them contemplating their actions, in their past, percent and future.
The chariot finally sets down in the palace grounds. Behind closed and locked gates. Their destination, the dungeons. Overflowing with his comrades. He knew he could not save all of them, for doing so would only ensure more war and suffering.
No guards followed the two as they made their way towards the darkest wing of the castle. By Celestia's strict order ofcourse, none of them was willing to leave the princess of their land alone with a human, let alone one they had been in war with just a few hours ago.
Still wearing the embalm of the army he swore his life to. Through the day he would look officers, comrades, friends in the eye. And sentenced them, many to death.
He has always been one to take life, one to kill his enemy. But now... now he has become a reaper of a different kind. Killing always left an unpleasant feeling in the bowels of the towering man. But this... this kind of murder. Left him cold, and sweating.
He knew he could not take the ones most filled with hate, he knew the indoctrination of his generals ran too deeply in some. But it did not give his conscience any rest from his decisions to his decisions.
The first door to open was the one that held a young woman. A barely out of being a girl. Who was forced to fight, by no one else but her own brother, family was meant to protect eachother... In this case he seemed to fail. The old warrior was not sure if he was relived or filled with sorrow that her last family was had brought her in to this mess, and died for it.
She was soaked in tears and huddling in the corner in terror when the armored figure stepped inside. She had naturally thought her end has come when she heard the door open. But when she looked up and saw who was standing in front of her, she was confused. Yet there was something in her eye.
“Come, you will not suffer a fate that is reserved for the guilty, and the guilty only.” He said and reached out a hand to the ragged dawned girl. New tears came to her eyes, but not ones of fear. But hope. She grabbed his hand and launched in to him, wrapping him in a frail embrace.
He held her gently, while smiling softly under his helmet. Maybe there is a respite for old sinners and murderers somewhere.
He took the woman and kept walking his reaper march. Walking up to a cell he saw a veteran, who had fought by his side, who had saved his life numerous times. Someone he had shared rations with at the fire, a man he had laughed and joked with.
He knew he could not take this comrade. Even though he was a friend, who begged him to take him from this place, not to let him die at the hooves of these filthy ponies.
All the warrior could do was apologize, and leave him for dead, he knew his friend to well.
For all eternity he will hear the screams of the ones he doomed, as he freed others, some he even had to beat back in to their cells since they shared, and one could go while the other stayed.. Striking an officer down while wearing the armor of their army, it was an interesting feeling, it felt right... at the same time wrong. All to passively send them to their doom... Celestia did not envy this man. But she did admire his resolve.
This process was repeated for the day, hand picking every man and woman he thought would be able to lay aside their hate. And live in peace. Old friends that has saved his life was left in their cells, because he knew them.
But some friends could be saved.
An old man, like him, or at least old for a warrior, so tired of war and destruction, that he despises not the ponies, but the colors that he once wore, and he was glad when the ponies ripped them from him.
The day was coming to an end. And he had made his peace with those he could not save, and taken those he knew could live without a fall back to war.
In total, he had gathered sixty to seventy men and women. A fair number... but it was bleak in comparison to the number left behind.
Now came the part where he would have to speak... speak to ponies, to offer what little redemption he could.
The march to the square of the regal town was not a pleasant one, even when escorted by the royal guard, the first thing that met them from the ponies, was fear. But that quickly changed as they saw how broken and frail all of them looked.
Fear, turned to anger, then to hate. All of them had lost something to the hands of a human, be it family, or land.
And now, there was a band of humans walking through their streets, unarmed and defeated. A prime possibility to take out some of their rage.
They spat at the march, threw anything they could throw, some were even aimed to hurt of kill. But the royal guards would stop any straight on assault.
They all reach the gate of the city, where a stage and a podium was set up for the words of the warrior. A whole crowd had followed the group, gathering around the plaza to keep their verbal and aerial assault on the humans, set on driving them out with sticks and stones.
The heavily clad human, the last officer of his army, stepped up on to the stage, it almost looked like a stage for an execution. He almost chuckled to himself for the likeness, maybe some of his comrades would meet their end on this thing.
For the first time while walking in the city, he looked up on it, allowing his eyes to wander to the horizon, taking in the cityscape. Something that one wouldn't have much time for during battle.
He might be clad in steel, but this was a different kind of battle now.
The city was presteen as always, The pure white marble, clashing with the vibrant and fresh colors. High buildings and regal towers. It was clear that this place hardly had been effected by their war efforts. It just served showing just how far his officers were were from their goal.
But as he expected also, when he looked to the crowd, he saw few stallions, both young and old were absent. Mares and children dominated the congregation. Most of their males... well they had been either dragged to battle, or they had volunteered. Which ever didn't matter anymore.
Now came the moment, the last moment. To finally end it.
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to steady his mind. Sadly, his tongue was not as sharp as his sword, but it would have to do.
The crowd was bellowing their disgust and hate towards him, along with anything they could pick off the ground. But it did nothing to the armored elder.
“I am the last officer of the great human army!” He started, getting mixed results.
“And I can not undo what has been done by my brethren... But I will do my best that nothing like this will ever repeat itself. Yes, many of you have reasons to wish to strike me down right here and now. And I will not blame you, I have done many terrible things in times of war. I am quite frankly... A monster.” He pauses for a small while, looking out on to the faces of the crowd, on them were nothing but frowns of disgust and hatred. But the crowd had gone quiet, now just listening with contempt.
His comrades, the ones he's saved listened as well, many of them dissagreeing with what he was saying, but they held their tongue, out of respect, both for a fighting giant, and someone willing to make peace, even after being scared by war so deeply as him.
There was something welling it up the chest of this steel clad man, His steel was getting to heavy, he could no longer bear having it against his skin, it had to come off. And now.
“I am no officer!” He yells, grabbing his helmet by the brush, and throwing it to the ground in front of the stage.
“I'm no warrior!” The old man almost screams as he rips the leather straps that keep the gauntlets on his hands, quickly followed by the rest of the steel on his arms.
“I'm not a soldier!” The shoulder pads, dawned with the emblem of his army, a winged sword.
“I am not even a measly grunt, not worth the dirt I'm shoveling!” He barks as the last steel on his upper body is scattered like the rest of his steel, the only thing left of his former uniform was his shield, placed against the podium on the stage.
“I followed orders... I followed the dreams and moral of others. Abandoning my own. I knew my actions were wrong, I knew that each time I took a life, it was pointless and plain murder... and I didn't care. I've failed my only important mission. And then I was left with nothing. Nothing but the next order... And for that... I'm not even sure what I deserve for that.” He grew quiet, his bare upper body showing off his countless scars. Barely any undamaged skin was left on the poor man.
Something wet dripped from his deep brown eyes, something salty.
“I will not ask forgiveness, Or mercy. I... I just want to offer what little I can. A petty apology, and the promise of the last general of the human army, as little as those are worth. I will no longer fight. Come for my head, so be it, you can have it. But come for mine and mine alone. I am the guiltiest of us all.” He finished, and stepped off the stage, leaving his armor and his blade in the grasp of the ponies, the only thing he takes with him. Is his brothers, sisters, and his shield.
And with that shield, a promise to himself, and everyone that will hear it. That this murder will never again raise a blade to strike someone down. He will only raise his shield to keep them standing.
