The next day, I apparently woke up a bit after Michaela. I found her in the kitchen and quickly used magic to reform the crackers I had with me into different kinds of food. I wanted bread and honey that day so that’s what I made. As for how I did it, on a basis, all foodstuffs are composed quite similarly. Only thing I did was rearrange the basis and it was done. Michaela was elated. Let alone the honey, which I personally hadn’t have had for a while, I highly doubt she would have had bread for quite a while. I learned that the Kingdom of Brodfeld stopped sending any rations to Twelt since the end of March. All rations were reserved for the troops fighting in the north. We were both finished with breakfast and I was about to move out myself, when there was a knock on the door. We both looked at each other. Nobody knocks on a barricaded door in Twelt, unless it is really bad news. I reformed the water I was drinking into small ice swords and moved to the door, while signaling to Michaela to stay where she was. I went to the hallway of the entrance and spoke up.

‘Who is it?’

‘Open up! We need help!’

Do I trust it, or do I not? From behind me I saw Michaela shake her head as in saying ‘No’. However, I am an idiot, no matter where I am. I moved the piano with my magic and just as I did that, a soldier broke down the door with force and fell face first into the hallway. This one was a proper soldier, a sergeant in particular. Camo, gear and all. On his shoulder the symbol of the Kingdom of Brodfeld. Behind him, there was a strange thing. Another monarchist soldier carrying… a communist soldier?! I could tell the half unconscious one being carried was a communist, because his cap had a red star on it and was of triangular shape. The sergeant did not waste a second or let me say a thing.

‘Quick, here, put him down!’

The monarchist soldier tore the clothes of the communist. The wounds of the red soldier were horrific. He had been shot several times and must have already lost a lot of blood and more poured from his wounds on the floor. I stood frozen. The two monarchists were quickly using wraps of cloth to tie his wounds. I stood still for some moments not being exactly able to comprehend the situation unfolding in front of me. I regained my senses as Michaela bumped me as she was rushing to the wounded soldier with water and cloth. As I saw the wounded soldier though, I knew that, by natural standards, he would be dead in minutes and there was nothing they could do to save him. I touched Michaela on the shoulder with my hoof and she stepped aside. I gathered my energy in my horn and it started glowing.

‘Hey, what the hell are you gonna do to him?’, the sergeant exclaimed.

When I conjure spells, my eyes turn a flashing white, when a lot of energy is used but I didn’t have any time for explanations.

‘If you want him alive, you will shut the buck up.’

In the ensuing silence, I used his body temperature to re-direct the blood in his body. I had found out, that blood tends to gather towards areas of lower temperature. At the same time, I let the icy swords turn back into water and used the water to cover the holes in organs, that were hit. In his terrible luck, the bullets, that had hit the soldier, had lunged inside his organs. That, complicated things. I had to get the bullets out. Thoughts raced through my mind. I opted to turn the material of the bullets back into liquid. To do that I greatly raised the temperature exactly around the bullets. This would hurt, a ton.

‘Hold him down’

The two monarchist soldiers quickly did so and I started the process. The wounded soldier screamed loudly in pain but thankfully the two monarchists held him down. In less than a minute, the bullets were pure liquid and I removed them easily from his body. The external wounds had nearly closed up and so that left only the internal bleeding to be mended. I could not directly make new tissues inside his body. I temporarily used water pressure to stop the internal bleeding and turned the soldier on his belly. Normally, you would need anesthesia to do this, lest you risk the patient passing out from the sheer amounts of pain but I had absolutely no other choice.

‘No matter what you do, do not let him move.’

I did not wait for an answer. I opened the soldier up carefully so that I would be able to quickly close him up again. Then, with lighting speeds I manifested a bunch of tiny needles with string and began stitching the griffon internally. Rest assured, the wounded griffon writhed in pain and agony. I completely ignored him. I knew I had some time till his brain would shut down from the pain. It took me some seconds to finish internally and a single second to stitch closed his belly again. The wounded soldier stopped trying to resist but I checked and he was breathing, meaning, I had made it in time. But the wounded soldier was still pale and weak from the lost blood. I went over the process to cause his blood cells to start dividing themselves but remain the same size. Thus, I was able to restore a large portion of his blood circulation. This stabilized him. He was still in a lot of pain though.

‘Keep an eye over him. Michaela put a wet towel over his head.’

I went to where my luggage was. Inside a small pouch, I had several flowers. One of them is called Bliss. It was in the form of mushed leaves in a jar. I went to the kitchen and turned a very small amount of it into tea. In larger amounts, this is pure poison but in small this acts as a delusionary and controlling drug. You can make the receiver do or feel nearly anything you want. If tempered with magic, you can get some pretty interesting effects. But for this particular case, I influenced the drug to simply turn off the pain censors in his brain. He would feel a bit better. After I made him drink the tea, his spasms stopped. But I was exhausted. In front of me, Michaela and the two monarchists stood in sheer amazement. They all looked at me.

‘What? There he will live. Just let him rest for a bit.’

The two monarchists looked at each other then turned to me and saluted.

‘In the name of all that is holy, we thank you.’

‘I only did what I had to do.’

‘You are not giving enough credit to yourself, Rosa, just as I told you.’

My mind had just only begun to settle down, after the amount of energy I had expended. I sat down and signaled to the soldiers to bring the wounded one to the living room. Michaela guided them there. I stood up and went there as well. When I arrived there and wanting to not have to answer many questions, I instead asked first.

‘How and why are two monarchists saving a communist?’

The sergeant spoke.

‘We are all griffons of Brodfeld or of Prywhen, whatever you wanna call it. The griffon was wounded in battle. Even if he is on the other side, I didn’t feel it right to leave him to die. Especially after he saved our lives.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We were in the firefight last night. It was quite bad. The shells, the whizzing of the rounds around us and most of all the screams. It was too chaotic. By the end of it me and this soldier from here, got separated from our unit and ended up on a communist held portion of the line. This communist here spotted us. He must have realized we were lost and for whatever reason offered to show us the way back. Unfortunately, upon our return we fell on one of our scouting parties, which upon seeing him in front of us, must have thought us all for enemies and opened on us. We tried to move back but very soon communist troops from their picket line joined in and fired back. We had to drag ourselves across the crossfire slowly and thought we were going to make it but without us noticing, he had taken several shots. When we realized that, we carried him and rushed here as fast as we could.’

‘That’s quite the story. You've got a lot to say to your kids when you go home.’

‘Thank you, old lady, but I prefer my kids not to learn I was killing my compatriots, when they were still little chicks. It don’t set the best of examples.’

‘Serg, we have more immediate issues though. If we go back now, we might be reported as deserters.’

‘I know.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, we’ll hope they don’t do that.’

‘I could potentially help out with that. Could fake you out to have been wounded as well.’

‘It could work… But what about him?’

‘I will be doing the same for him, once he can safely move again.’

We discussed the plan a little bit more later and decided to go ahead with the monarchist soldiers the following morning. When that came, I used my magic to make them both look injured but recuperating, then with some persuasion and Bliss, I was easily able to convince the officer of their unit that they were both bravely fighting off numbers of communists but got separated from their unit while severely injured. Once that was done, I returned to Michaela’s home to see if we could do the same with the communist soldier. Inside the kitchen Michaela was sitting and the communist soldier was too. Apparently, he had fully regained his senses.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘I am much better now, I suppose. I am really grateful for what you did. I owe you my life and I don’t even know your name.’

‘Rosa. Now you know but let me get straight to the point. You need to return to your unit as soon as possible, lest they may deem you as a deserter. If you can safely walk, I recommend that you should do so immediately. I will use my magic to make you look injured and come up with some story to back it up if that is deemed necessary.’

‘I can walk just fine now. And again, thank you.’

We proceeded to carry out the plan and it proved even easier than in the case of the two monarchists. The pickets from the communist side recognized the soldier. They had seen him get shot and had him for dead but since he was right between the two lines, they didn’t dare go gather him up. Their commander, a weird looking griffon with a very fresh uniform for someone in the front lines, thanked me for my ‘services’ and in general there was no need to drug her, in order to convince her. But as I turned around to return to Twelt, I could feel her gaze on my shoulder. However, I did not think much of it. I did what I thought was right, but I really didn’t want to bring any trouble to Michaela or to myself.

Michaela saw me as I came back, I explained that everything went perfectly and without a hitch and we went back inside. That night there was no battle in the distance apart from the occasional sparse shots from scouts and patrols.

The next day, though, my expectations not to be involved with any of the two sides, were quickly dashed. Right outside the door was a commissar of the communist army. Me and Michaela had no choice but to open to her. Once she was inside, she wasted no time with introductions.

‘Are you Rosa, the unicorn?’

Now that I looked at her closer, she looked oddly familiar. That clean uniform, she is the communist officer from yesterday! Damn it!

‘Also, don’t lie, because I know you are. First, you must be from the few ponies, let alone unicorns, in the entirety of Prywhen. Second, the soldier you helped out told me everything or at least all he could remember from when he was not unconscious. Third, if you do lie, you will have an entire company of soldiers here by tomorrow to apprehend you as a traitor to the Liberation Army.’

I dare you to try! I will send them all to hell or worse! Besides, how exactly are you going to pass an entire company into monarchist held territory? You are lucky that I think that this is not the time to make enemies with official authorities.

‘I don’t intend to lie or stall. I am Rosa. What of it?’

‘I want to ask you a few questions.’

We all went and sat in the kitchen. I was quite nervous, to be honest.

‘First, I want to make it clear that the previous threat is but a bluff. I would never be able to get communist troops in Twelt, at least not yet.’

‘I figured that out myself, commissar.’

‘My name is Eefa Doyle, Commissar Eefa Doyle. Just call me Eefa.’

‘Alright, Eefa.’

I said so calmly but, in my head, I was thinking ‘That is most certainly not a Prywhenian name’.

‘What is it that you are doing in Prywhen? Be honest. I can tell if you are not.’

‘Vacation.’

‘You are lying.’

‘Visiting a relative.’

‘You are lying, again. Don’t test me, I am honest. I am using magic to tell whether you are lying or not.’

‘Okay, then I am here to prove that the assassination of the king as well as other events that started the war in Prywhen were not planned or coincidental but instead orchestrated by darker beings beyond our control.’

Eefa was visibly stunned and was looking for words to reply to my exclamation.

‘You are not … lying? How? That sounds ridiculous!’

‘You asked. You got your answer.’

Eefa looked to the side. She was deeply in thought from the looks of it. I don’t blame her; I would be as well, in case I found myself in a similar situation.

‘In that case, I have nothing more to ask now. I will be visiting you again, tomorrow, though.’

She got up and we all headed towards the exit. She straightened her cap on her head and opened the door.

‘Farewell, for now. We have much to talk about.’

She had already walked some distance and then suddenly turned around and addressed us again.

‘Ah, by the way, come to the area where we first talked today before nighttime, if you can.’

I did not respond. We closed the door, with the piano as usual. Me and Michaela went to the living room after that. There was visible silence between us for a while and then Michaela spoke up.

‘I hope you are not planning to go to that frontline today, are you?’

‘I was actually thinking about doing so.’

‘You must be joking. Don’t you remember what I told you before? The communists have ammunition to fire their artillery every two days. Today, is a day that they will be able to. So, by tonight they will attack the lines of the royalists. It will be more than just dangerous and I really, really don’t want to learn that you got killed.’

‘From what you have seen of me, how possible do you think it is for me to get harmed, physically?’

‘Don’t be arrogant and don’t be careless. A battlefield is not three soldiers firing from behind trees and not hitting anything. It will be hell there tonight.’

‘Still, I think the risk is worth it. This Eefa, she is the only official we know. What if I could get information through her?’

‘You barely know her!’

‘And I have no other leads. It is my best option at the current time.’

Michaela looked visibly distressed.

‘Whatever you do promise me, you’ll be careful and that you will come back alive.’

I could not promise that. I would try but it isn’t completely up to me. I am taking a risk, but this is not only about me or Michaela or any other individual. I seriously believed many lives could be saved if I, at least, tried out my plan. An uneasy silence reigned again.

‘Ah but before I forget, do you want to eat some pie? I made some from the ingredients I had you create yesterday.’

I smiled broadly.

‘You acted like the figure of a grandma just now.’

‘I did?’

‘Well, yes but I don’t mind. Rather it is more than relaxing to know that I have someone else who is also looking after me.’

Michaela grew a bit red. She patted my head, trying not to hurt me with her claws.

‘If I had you as a granddaughter, I bet I would be very happy.’

We went to the kitchen, where we talked about more trivial things. We ate that pie and it was delicious. We laughed and it was as if I didn’t have a care in the world. However, that made me more anxious as the day went closer to nighttime.

When it was late enough, we both went to the door.

‘I promise, I will be back alive.’

‘You had better!’

After that exchange we embraced and I left for the soon to be battlefield. At about the same place as the day prior, Eefa was waiting.

‘Took you some time.’

‘I am not one of your soldiers.’

‘Alright, alright. Only thing I want from you today is medical support.’

‘So, you called me here to act as medic for your troops?’

‘Not only for mine. That soldier was dying and you saved his life. When the firing is settled there will be a bunch of those lying on the ground. If we sent our people to gather them, we’ll get shot upon. Same goes for the other side. But you are not from either army so if they see you helping out, I doubt you will be in danger. It will help us send our own medics as well.’

‘You are too amiable to be believable for a commissar.’

‘I understand that, since this is a civil war, that this state of animosity must be temporary. Once Prywhen or Brodfeld or someone else re-unite the country, then all those griffons must come back together. We are all Prywhenians. They and them is a state of affairs, that is unfortunate and should have never existed. But since it does exist, we can at least do what we can to alleviate it.’

‘In that case, you will have my assistance. However, isn’t you who will be firing at ‘them’ today?’

Eefa shook her head.

‘The higher ups on both sides care very little that the blood of common griffons is being spilt on these fields. But we have to do as we are told, lest we cease to exist as an organized country.’

‘Alright, alright. What would you want me to do now?’

‘Just wait.’

In less than an hour, the guns opened up and the earth trembled violently. However, it was the ear-piercing sound that was much more lethal as an after-effect. It made my head spin. The other side opened up as well. Shells exploded all around. I was in a trench up front with some soldiers. The NCOs looked distant but serene, almost as if they were prepared for their most likely demise. Many of the soldiers were crying or writing letters. They tied the letters to their uniforms; in case they were to die. Some words for their friends and family, followed by ‘I love you all’, their name and ‘Today, I died.’. A shell fell in a dug out on our left. Many were blown to pieces instantly. Many more were screaming pierced by shrapnel all over. Seconds later they were dead in agonizing pain. Even if I had tried, I couldn’t have done much. I went to one of the hit trenches. Legs and claws were sticking out, buried beneath the collapsed walls. Several corpses were also laying on another side of it. Gutted by shrapnel. Organs and bones no more than a mush now mixed in with the mud. Little pools of blood here and there. Occasionally, screams and shouts and then for a moment, silence. Eefa came up front. The soldiers looked at her; they knew what would come next. She took a deep breath, pulled out her whistle and with a trembling claw, blew in it. In the lull, the shrill sound was heard clearly in the line. Then, the lower officers began their shouting: ‘Over the Top!’

Then the communist griffons went over and the artillery opened up again to support them. The enemy artillery opened in response and the enemy lines, which were much closer than I thought they were fired sparsely first and then more intensely. Eefa turned at me before going in with the others.

‘If I don’t die, I will meet you here, soon! This is a lost charge anyways!’

Then I realized. The attack was doomed to fail. Any attack across this ground. Bushes all over slowed the advance and there was a small creek between the lines that had to be crossed. From where I was, I had a clear view of what was happening. The shouts and screams mixed in with the gunfire and explosions. Some communists reached a forward trench of the monarchists. Threw a grenade in it. A fire broke out and burning griffons run out. They were immediately shot. Elsewhere both sides were engaged in claw-to-claw combat. Shovels, bayonets, knives, clubs, rifle butts. Anything went really. And many griffons fell in pools of their own blood, there dying on the cold ground. Someone from the monarchists shouted: ‘Light ‘em up! Come on!’. And from the back a griffon with a large fuel tank on his back and a steel helmet appeared. From a hose he was holding, lines of flames were spitted, like tongues. In the foxholes and trenches, that he went in, burning griffons could be seen. They fell in puddles of water to stop the fire and the monarchists behind the flamethrower came in and drowned them in the water. In a captured trench, a monarchist soldier threw a grenade. A communist NCO saw it. He hurled himself at the grenade, hugged it. The next second he was blown up to tiny little pieces of flesh and blood scattered all over the trench. Yet, the troops with him survived. Elsewhere with pistols and submachine guns, some communists were attempting to clear out another portion of the enemy line. A loud bang followed. A shell caused the side of the deep entrenchment they were in to collapse and they were all buried alive. Soon, the monarchists launched a coordinated counter-attack and together with artillery and mortar fire slowly drove the communists back. During their retreat many of the communists turned around to shoot, so that they wouldn’t be shot in the back. Many fell on the retreat and along with those fallen before, close to the creek, the water run a muddy red. Once the communists were back, I saw Eefa among them. Covered in blood and her left eye was slashed and she held it closed. Her uniform was torn in places and in general she was a mess. When she saw me, she shouted at me:

‘Go to the back trench! NOW!’

I did so. The back trench was close to the artillery emplacements. This place had a better view of the communist lines, instead. The monarchists had used their momentum and counter-attacked. The artillery blasted away behind me and I fell to the floor and covered my ears. During the melee here the same scenes unfolded. At some point there was a loud bang beneath and the earth rose suddenly. Apparently, the monarchists had detonated a ton of explosives from some underground tunnel. However, they were slightly off and they only blew up the trenches up front. There many monarchists rushed in seeing an opportunity but they were caught inside the crater that was created. They stuck on one another like sardines and were mowed down by machine gun and small arms fire by the communists that were on the edge of the crater. By the time they were able to escape the trap and retreat, countless of them were lying in the crater, that was filled much like a bowl with blood and parts of bodies. After that the monarchists lost their momentum and fell back in turn. The communists fired as well at the retreating monarchists but with their artillery now being out of ammunition, they didn’t manage to do a lot of damage.

Soon thereafter everything went quiet. Eefa came to me staggering all the way as one of her legs was apparently fractured now. She was using a rifle to support herself. When she came to where I was, she sat down, lit up a cigarette and spoke to me.

‘Your time now. I’ll send the medics if they don’t shoot at you. How did you like the show?’

I didn’t even respond to that ironic statement. I had seen combat and killed before. But nothing like this, nothing on this scale. I felt sick and the smell of flesh, blood and burnt-out ammunition did not make the situation any better. Eefa spoke up and at me again.

‘If our plan works out today, hopefully, we won’t have to put up such a show ever again.’

I prayed with all my might for those words to come true! Hoping that, I went up the trenches and down the small hill to the area near the now crimson creek. The wounded near the trenches would be gathered up and tended by their respective sides but nobody would agree to a truce to get these unfortunate griffons out of the field.

When I reached that place, the scenes were almost as bad as I had expected them to be, based on what I had witnessed before. I walked among the shattered bodies and the corpses, trying to find those who were still alive and hoping I wouldn’t be shot at by either side. I knew the communists would not fire at me, as they were so ordered by Eefa but what about the monarchists? For a while I went from one wounded soldier to another. I made sure to keep them stable in different ways according to their injuries, planning to go back afterwards and fully heal them. Some thirty minutes passed and, in that time, a heavy downpour had begun. A little while later some monarchists with red arm bands came down. They saw me, saluted and started tending to the bodies from their side. Eefa must have seen it and sent her own medics to do the same. Both groups, disregarding the rain, helped out the lesser wounded soldiers and carried away those that could be safely removed from the scene. Once I had stabilized all of the ones who were more severely injured or in general could not be removed from the field, I started surgically operating each one of them. Both sides helped me out, whether the injured was from theirs or the enemy side. Soon, we were blessed as the rain, at least, had stopped, helping out our attempts. Then, into the dark of the night and under the light of torches and lanterns held by soldiers, I kept at my gruesome work. Soon, many common soldiers came down to observe me and my operations or to help out as they could. Many helped the medics carry away the wounded and others brought supplies and medicine if there were any available. By midnight all, in what I could tell, of the wounded down in the valley, that could be saved, were in a stable condition and were taken to their respective camps to recuperate.

However, the ‘gathering’ of troops from both sides around the little creek did not stop after that. Afterwards, they took to burying their dead and once that was largely done, they stayed there simply conversing with one another. Some of them had been friends or neighbors from before the war, even if the war had found them on opposing sides. Many of them were from the same town or city and even some others were family torn from a most brutal civil war, that was now in its third year. But most of all they were all Prywhenians and specifically on this battlefield, they were not split by ideology or the party they supported. All the same, homesick and tired of the fighting that never ended, knowing that back home the ones they loved are dead or dying of starvation. Many of them had no idea what the communist leaders or the king even wanted or whatever they had different between them. The single thing splitting them apart was this here now muddy, bloody creek. Soon, they started singing songs they knew. In the begging, one side played a song from their party and the other side would respond. However, as if it was a miracle, both sides stopped, stayed silent for a second and then simultaneously started singing ‘Home, Sweet, Home’. Tears were shed. These griffons and any griffons are not evil. They just didn’t have a choice. Others made the calls and even more others wanted them to suffer, and those others fed on their suffering. But still, how beautifully they sang that night, as if the bloodshed of hours before, had not even happened. As if they won’t be killing one another again tomorrow… Yet even if it was so, they all wanted it to end, to return home or to whatever was left of that now. And so, they sang and may those above listen closely.

To thee, I’ll return overburdened with care,

The heart’s dearest solace will smile on me there.

No more from that cottage again will I roam,

Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home!

Home! Home, sweet sweet Home!

There’s no place like Home! There’s no place like Home!

When it was time to part, they hugged one another. Wished each other ‘See you in hell!’, laughed and headed back to their trenches. And from the muddy, horrendous trenches I heard two of them sing another song from which I only remember the last verse but which correctly summarized their unfortunate reality.

Many are the hearts that are weary tonight

Wishing for the war to cease

Many are the hearts looking for the right

To see the dawn of peace

Tenting tonight, Tenting tonight

Tenting on the old campground

Dying tonight, dying tonight

Dying on the old campground…

Eefa was sitting in the front trench when I was back. I quickly headed to her trying to mend the scar on her eye.

‘Do you still think you are the only one who wants all this to end?’

‘No.’

‘As I promised, I will be coming by Michaela’s house by tomorrow morning. That’s very soon anyways.’

‘Yes, I will wait.’

Author's Note

This chapter has the last verses of two songs used: The first one, is from the song 'Home! Sweet! Home!' by John Howard Payne 1823. The second one, is from the song Tenting on the Old Campground by Walter Kittredge 1863.