Colonel Skywalker’s POV

“War is delightful to those who have had no experience of it.”

Desiderius Erasmus.

_ _ _

“Ugh. Blyat,” I grunt in annoyance.

My hooves remain on the ground as I try to recover my strength to stand once again for what feels like the hundredth time.

Heh.

I guess this is one of those moments of my life that would probably fall into that nearly infinite collection of times and situations that could be classed as ridiculous. Though, I’m not sure whether this is for better or worse, but... yet I really need to encounter a single living being.

I am completely in solitude, so I force myself to get up and crawl along at a snail’s pace back to the relative safety of the trenches, utterly surrounded by death and destruction of those who were stupid enough to follow two leaderships doomed to absolute chaos, death, and failure.

I fall into one of the multiple trenches that, so recently, highlighted life and tranquillity, but that now were nothing more than elongated graves of bodies, blood and more.

I remain in silence, without moving an inch, only taking heavy, stabbing puffs of air for what feels like an eternity; I get the temptation to stay there, wait until the cold kills me, after all… I would stop feeling any pain at some point. Nonetheless, deep inside I can’t help but get the need to keep moving, to try and, perhaps, find any signs of life, doesn't matter who it could be…

As I take a breath, I raise my sight up in front of me and find that I’m lying next to a Solar Guard, a unicorn mare with a light green coat and a bluish mane. Her gold eyes have glazed over, the wound to the left side of her neck, created by a sword, having long since bled out. Blood is smeared across her face as well, ruining what were once some beautiful features. Her lifeless form is already partially coated in layers of snow, slowly freezing the pool of blood around her.

An unnamed mare, one of many individuals who are already lost to this war.

A Solar Guard. A pony acting upon orders from Celestia, oblivious regarding what would be her fatal end. Supposedly, according to everything that I’ve believed over the last ten years, the enemy. But that doesn't fully sit right with me.

A twenty-something-year-old mare. A mare with parents, perhaps siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents. A mare old enough to have a partner, perhaps her own foals.

Heck, a bucking life, for sure.

Each of these relatives and family members have little idea of her fate, and will eventually have to confront the harshest of realities in war. She may have been working for the opposite side, but she still has family and friends waiting for the ominous news, and she still has had her future stolen from her at the wrong age. She, just like so many others, did not deserve this.

Celestia, you absolute demon.

“Well,” I sigh with difficulty. “She ain’t the only one.”

…Us, you mean?

I mentally avoid answering that as I stay on the ground for a few moments, not taking the eye off the victim that lies before me, all this while my body tries to gather as much strength as possible to, again, continue the next leg of my journey.

A breath, a bloody cough, another few breaths, slow and steady. Just like every tale of powerful countries begins. After all, the Griffish Empire wasn't built in a day.

With a gentle heads up to the cloudy sky, I notice how difficult it is for my being to keep track of time; I could’ve been walking for thirty minutes or a few hours and I wouldn’t even realise. Despite that, my front hooves take the initiative and provide a miraculous support for me to lift my heavy, beaten body; I lean against the nearest wooden-made wall, however, yet my strengths are enough to avoid falling on the ground once more. At least for now.

I glance back at the soldier, devoid of life and the slightest hope of returning to what once was, and I feel helpless. I can't help but know how that is for, not only me but everyone else. If I could cry, I wouldn't doubt it. Little would it matter if I did it for those whom - for so long - I called enemies.

That's the instant the urge to scream wrapped in loneliness and despair running through my frozen veins hits, wanting to curse myself, the goddesses, and anyone else I've ever met in my life; I'd enjoy showing the world my frustration and anger at my helplessness regarding this never-ending hell... but no.

I just stay quiet as I return my gaze back forward and see how far I am from my goal, beyond the fact of having gone through everything life has wanted to throw at me...

Even so, as Crimson says, slow progress is progress, and now the main trench is at sight.

So close... yet it may as well be a million miles away unless I can actually arrive there. Until then, I most surely will remain lost in this field of death, with the stench of blood still filling my nostrils, and constantly being reminded of the hundreds of deaths that, from now on, I’ll carry on my shoulders.

Clashes with Solar Guards. Survival situations. Fighting constantly for the basic resources and the ability to live. It hits me watching so many others lose their battles, on too many occasions, and having to pick up the shattered pieces after. Even before my friends and I defected from the Royal Guard, there were occasions when small arguments accelerated into something more severe. We all had to fight for our positions, promotions… our purposes. And then, some people took that fight more seriously than the rest. It formed grudges between some of us, grudges that have followed me across Equestria, all the way to the Crystal Empire, even.

Have we ever truly known peace?

I push the thought from my mind as I decide to get the small struggle over with. My body stops laying against the wall as I prepare to move on. One, two, three hooves down on the muddy ground, and with a tremendous effort, I manage to stay still.

I sigh in relief at this, ready to continue the journey; nevertheless, the instant I make the first step, I find myself in need to look back at the dead soldier. The moment I do, my eye fixes on hers, letting me appreciate one last time who was once a living being, lying lifeless on the ground for what could be an eternity.

I’d show my respect and salute if I could, but these damn wounds don’t let me.

With no other option, I give a small nod at her and proceed to walk towards the trench’s exit.

After that, some time goes by, just as the blizzard does. My sight constantly travels between the snowfield and the clouds that predominate the sea blue sky above. As I look at them, at times, it makes me feel heavier, at others, lighter; but, to me, a repentine doubt arises ad nauseam in my mind every time I pursue my mental organisation… How am I even alive?

I think carefully through it and focus on getting what is my so-longed answer, only to find that there is none to find, as always. But I just can’t stop ending up holding it. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for me to have survived due to my wounds and how painful these are. Something isn’t right. I shouldn’t even be able to move.

And until now you haven’t realised?

“Ugh. Shut.” I command between breaths.

All I’m saying is, perhaps it’s your miracle-healing thing. Sure, it isn’t going to repair your limb, but-

I immediately wince as I accidentally place pressure upon said limb; the sharp pain in my leg makes me instantly regret it. Yet again, I must stop walking to wait for the pain on it to dissipate. I look at my leg with a sore expression; out of all of my wounds at the moment, that one is probably the worst.

Well, be glad you can still feel the pain. It means it’s more likely to heal, and it won’t have to be amputated. Now, do you want to see your friends and family again or not?

That’s the million-bit question. At first, I proclaimed I was going through all this to find anyone who could be alive, to help those in need before myself and, for a while, it’s been like that to me… but now? I feel like the real reason isn’t that and I’ve been lying to myself the whole time.

So…?

“You-” I halt as I raise my leg once again and struggle to recover my pace. “...You know the answer.”

…Unsure, huh? Maybe we aren’t so different, after all.

No comment from me. I just stay in silence with the slight hope of making that stupid thing be quiet. I’m growing more and more fed up with having another voice inside my head the entire time; there’ll be a moment I’ll just hit my head against a wall, and bang it so hard repeatedly until it shuts… or my misery ends.

Our misery, you mean.

“Good one,” I mumble, another ironic smile drawn on my face.

As if I were joking.

I stop as the voice does. With myself waiting for a reply of the comment as my gaze wanders the surroundings in absolute silence, and the wind being the single sound that penetrates my ears and resounds in my mind.

I continue to stand still without saying a word for a couple more seconds to the point where I am convinced that the mental silence will be something more lasting; as I let out a sigh, it is greeted by an aggravated cough that manages to catch me off guard, causing me to cover my mouth with one of my hooves.

This last action nearly brings me down, but thankfully I find myself able to regain my balance before I crush my own side with my weight. However, I still feel the violence of the cough increasing greatly at my abrupt movement; it is then that I lean against the wall of a nearby bunker before I lose my balance again and allow my body to rest, sitting without a second thought in the filthy red snow.

Thought you wanted to keep moving or something. Get home, sort out our injuries, not die out here in the cold-

“For the love of the darn Goddesses, BE QUIET!” I finally shout. My patience reached its limit long ago and I’ve been holding back my anger as much as I could. And they know it.

Sorry, pal, but-

“We’re. NOT. pals.” I grit my teeths, not caring at all for the pain this act provokes.

Another cough manages to get me off guard as I try to recover the oxygen wasted on my rage. My breath… I can’t stop feeling it so heavy, so painful, yet considering it so much of a blessing to me as I attempt to keep myself alive; I should stand up, keep moving, and try to find someone- anyone that could need help… but I can’t.

As I try to get up several times, each time I sense less strength in my limbs; every occasion I fall makes me realise that my body no longer seems to respond to my commands and allows itself to remain on the ground, immobile and without showing any will to continue moving forward.

I notice how each breath is that fraction harder to take, a noticeable fraction more shallow. My heart is having to work harder still, and there is a pool of disgusting blood around me. The cold air is freezing me, inside and out. I should be trying to fight this, but the question is, can I? Is there enough fight actually left in me to do this?

It is then that the hard reality hits me. I have evaded this for so long. I still don’t quite believe it’s happening, and don’t want to admit it. But life is the way it is. I tried, I fought, but it was just not enough.

Don’t you dare-

I chuckle to myself, already convinced of having lost the little judgement I had left. “Whatever happens, I’m finding a way to shut you up. If this is it…” A cough reaches me as I try to retake some oxygen. My smile remains on my face. “...then so be it.”

Murderer.

“I was here first. You are a parasite. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I was always here, actually. But-

My consciousness decides to ignore him as fatigue takes over my exhausted body, making me feel a heaviness in my eyelids that I haven't felt in years. I keep smiling, but this time I try to make it be one of gratitude, for I was already longing for sleep, something I thought I’d never get back.

Then, with a last hoarse breath, I notice how everything becomes dark and the sound just... stops…

Author's Note

Hey, everypony!

After weeks of not having the time or motivation to write, I decided to just sit down and bash the keys on my laptop until something began to make somewhat coherent sense. I've had this chapter ready for a while, but I didn't want to release it until I was done writing Chapter 34, so I have at least 1 chapter that can be edited whilst I'm working on something else.

If anyone wants advice for dealing with writer's block, I'll tell you how to get writing again: just get it done. Don't tell yourself "this is rubbish" or "I need to write something amazing on the first try" or "this needs to make 100% perfect sense" because that's how you stop yourself from actually being creative. Do the editing nonsense afterwards. Oh, and don't do all of the editing yourself. If you're working alone, sometimes you can miss the obvious.

I'll admit, this chapter ends on a nasty cliffhanger, but don't worry, there will be an Aftermath - Part 3 published as soon as it's been edited properly. You'll find out what happens to Sky. Pinkie Promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.

See you all again soon,

~ Angel