Centenary

The sound of my shoes clacking along the marbled floor bounced around the room, I looked along the walls and of the Stained glass windows depicting the greatest heroes of our history.

Of course I naturally enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night over my sister's bright and busy days. The tranquillity of the dark and cool air soothed me and hopefully my subjects who also spent their time enjoying the hours of dark.

As I made my way down the hall of heroes I came upon what was now the centrepiece of the hall surrounded by enchanted flowers so that they would not grow old organised into a beautiful arrangement by the most talented of florists. They surrounded what would seem a rather plain and simple if somewhat large stone. Different from the rest of the castle both in colour and materials.

I looked down upon the black marbled stone set into the floors of Canterlot Castle reading over the worlds engraved with the brass of munitions fired in anger from the Great War, not that there was anything particularly great about it I mused to myself.

“Beneath this stone rests the body
Of a lost friend
Unknown by name or rank
Brought home from the battlefield to lie among
The most illustrious of Equestria
And buried here on Armistice Day
8th April: 1016, in the presence of
Her royal highnesses: Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Cadence, Princess Twilight, Princess Flurry Heart
The elements of harmony
Her Ministers of State
The Chiefs of her forces
And a vast concourse of the nation

Thus are commemorated the many
Multitudes who during the Great
War of 1011 – 1016 gave the most that
Ponies can give life itself
For Friendship and Harmony
For Princess and Equestria
For loved ones home and abroad
For the sacred cause of Friendship”

I gave my head a slight shake. Despite the great effort we had gone to, Selecting multiple major battlefields, exhuming multiple unidentified ponies, selecting one at random and the full state funeral held for this unknown hero I still felt it was a pittance for what the fallen deserved. One grave for all of the land to mourn and remember her by.

My reputation for being the coldest of the Princesses was perhaps earned for I did not wail nor nash my teeth for the dead nor was I a despondent teary eyed mare. I had asked them to do what needed to be done and for some they were forced to make the ultimate sacrifice for their friends.

The nature of modern war had changed much in my exile to the moon, gone were the days where Martial skill and Elan alone could carry the day. One century ago a mass charge of ponies into the jaws of a machine gun resulted in nothing more than dozens of letters to bereaved families. War had escalated onto an industrial scale and Equestria as a whole, not just myself was not aware nor ready for that. Not yet.

We triumphed in the end but not without great cost. The last official tally put 1.6 Million dead and another 4.8 million had ended up wounded. Poor Twilight I thought to myself. There was a few years after the war the junior princess went to great lengths to fund many papers and expeditions to calculate the exact numbers she insisted she had to know.

I suspect she blamed herself for not doing more and was putting the numbers at her own hooves. Celestia too wanted to know the exact extent of the devastation upon her little ponies. Cadence was too wrapped up in her grief with one particular casualty. Whereas myself? I of course knew the burden of many of those ponies suffering was a direct consequence of my own actions and lack of knowledge. And even more were a result of my orders and plans.

I only asked the ponies under my care and command to do their duty, it was just a shame that sometimes that duty resulted in their untimely demise.

Something that was lost upon Twilight and even my sister for many years was the ponies may have went off to war earning the Princesses bit and fighting for Equestria and the princesses and while I made every effort I could to visit the frontlines to do my own part as they liked to say back then “The warrior princess” neither me nor my sister could be in all places at once. When the chips were truly down they fought not for me, not for my sister, not even Harmony herself but instead for their friends besides them.

The mare in the trench at their side, who they slept, ate, fought, bled and died alongside. The magic of friendship may be better suited to avoiding conflicts in the first place but I think the Princess of friendship may have missed another powerful side of the magic of friendship for those who fought and bled together had an iron bond, the magic of friendship not bullet nor bomb nor shell nor princess brought us victory in the end. It was the common pony and their implacable friendship to the mare next to her.

I took one last look at the tomb before continuing the trot to my first meeting of the evening, the click clacking continuing to bounce off the walls and ceilings.

Before long I made my way into my study, my aide, a competent if somewhat anxious Thestral mare Gloomy Night bowed to me as I entered, I nodded in acknowledgement before sitting my haunches upon a large plush cushion behind my great timber desk.

She was about to begin with my agenda as she opened her muzzle to speak. I brusquely interjected.

“I wish to dispense with the Agenda for the moment Gloomy, something has come to my mind I would discuss with my personal secretary.”

She spluttered and her wings bent out of shape in either direction awkwardly, presumably taken aback but the shift from what was planned.

I did rather hope she would become accustomed to my rather mercurial nature. I did like her, she was excellent with paperwork and schedules whereas I detested the mere thought of it.

She finally righted herself mentally and offered her best Polite smile in return slightly strained at the edges of having to deal with the sudden shift from her plan.

“Of course your majesty, what is on your mind?”

“The centenary of the great war is upon us. What memorial works or services are planned?”

Her face took on a look of surprise and I watched as her muzzle twitched as I presume she thought about all the events I would be scheduled to take part in. As she opened her muzzle I interrupted her again.

“I would like you to clear some time in my schedule. I would like to commission a memorial piece and an event to accompany it for the occasion. I have been ruminating on the many ponies who were not fortunate to come home in the end.”

Her eyes bulged and she spluttered, forgetting her decorum for a moment.

“But But your majesty, it is only a few months away! Fitting a whole other event? What even is this memorial!”

Our agenda was forgotten and I smiled to myself as she continued on her rant and as my plan formulated in my head.

Many weeks of rescheduled appointments, a few personal favours here and there, a great deal of hoof crafting and one Charity auction of my own personal paintings later to fund the whole affair we had arrived on the day in question.

For the next 8 nights before the armistice day itself hoof crafted and immaculately painted by foals across the land lanterns each to represent one pony who never came home were to sail down the Canterlot moat before they would symbolically pass over the falls and land far off.

I smiled to myself and Gloom smiled at my side, the frantic weeks of work had been worth the effort, while it may still not be enough for what they truly deserved perhaps it was a start in the right direction.