Fost's War

by Perception Filter

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Other
Length: 2554

A soldier's old journal

Alula, on a trip to the disgraced and destroyed griffon nation, finds a small, black, leather-bound book. She quickly finds that history is not always set in stone, and may be much different than she's been told.

A/N This story is sort of an experiment I devised in my head, written by ElectroHaiso and I.

Published 2012-11-12 04:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-12 04:00:01 UTC

(1) April, 11 F.R.

Alula walked along the barren streets. Shivering slightly, she pulled her scarf tighter around her neck. Around her were many houses, blinds being shut and doors slammed as she walked by. A slight breeze propelled a dust cloud past her. Picking up the pace, she started trotting down towards the end of twisted and tangled maze of houses.

Many griffons were still resentful of the ponies, and hated them with a passion. Up ahead there was a slight laughing and when she went to investigate, she found two griffon children playing with eachother, tossing a small green ball around. One of them threw the ball a little too far, and the other missed the catch. The ball bounced off a nearby wall and rolled over to Alula, who looked down at it. Picking up the ball with her magic to toss it back, she saw the two griffon kids looking at her with frightened expressions as they slowly backed away.

“It’s okay,” She said with a gentle and smooth voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Alula hefted the ball slightly and tossed it towards them, and they bolted away, running down the street. One of them tripped and scraped his knee along the cobblestone ground. The other griffon was already gone, leaving his friend crying in the street.

Alula looked at the crying griffon child. He was probably no more than seven or eight years old. Slowly approaching him, the child opened his eyes and tried to back away, whimpering when he moved his leg. Stopping, Alula looked at the child one more time, before circling around him and continuing on her path.

As she continued, she all she saw were decrepit buildings, covered in snow. Every now and again, she’d feel a cold breeze on her coat, and the wind would howl through the otherwise-silent city. Although there was no noise, the city was very much alive. Occasionally, she would see a few griffons, skulking through back alleys and crossing the street.

Alula was a gray unicorn with a gray-purple mane with a open book for a cutie mark, which symbolized her love for studying. Quiet, and didn’t socialize much, even among her own friends, Alula was seen when she took the entrance exam for the School for Gifted Unicorns, by Celestia. Not long after, the princess contacted her and requested that she would be her personal student.

According to her studies under the Princess, the griffons and their cities were not always the dilapidated, crumbling places that she now saw. They used to be great prosperous cities. The one she was in now, Hove, was once the capital of the griffon nation. Unfortunately, the nation was thrown into chaos and violence when Laine Fost, the former griffon king, came to power by way of revolution.

Celestia had told her that she tried to give King Fost many chances at peace during the war, which was later called Fost’s War, but he had refused. Many times, he himself tried to start negotiations, but his demands were insulting. The final attempt at negotiations ended in attacks on three Equestrian cities. At one point, the war seemed to be over, then King Fost attacked yet again. Even worse, it was an attack on a civilian city. If what she’d read was right, the city of Manehattan never recovered, and was destroyed. That was over one hundred years ago, and the griffons still hadn’t fully recovered.

While she herself held no personal grudge against Fost or the griffons, the war caused irreparable damage to Equestria and, by extension, the griffon nation. Quietly brooding this, she plodded along the street, lost in her thoughts. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into something soft. Quickly shaking her head and backing up a few steps, she found herself face to face with an angry griffon.

“Why don’t you look where you’re going?” Spat the griffon, with a sharp glare that could cut through steel.

“Please excuse me.” She said gently, trying to circle around the griffon, ignoring his hostile attitude.

“No.” Said the griffon, blocking her path with an outstretched claw. “No, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Sir, I’m just walking around your city, I don't see any harm in that. Do you?”

"My granddad died to try and keep this country independent from you filthy ponies, and you think you can just trot in here like all's fine?" He pointed an accusing claw at her, when she looked around, a few more griffons were gathering.

“Sir, your old king decided to attack our nation. I do not wish to fight, so please just let me pass.”

“We attacked you? You ponies aren't very good with history are you?” Asked another griffon. A small crowd was growing around her.

“Sir, I am asking you politely to move.” She gave him an annoyed look. “I have done nothing wrong, yet you barr my path.

“Quit talking like you’re better than us you little cunt!” Yelled another griffon from the crowd.

Alula started in shock and looked in the direction of the accused griffon. “Sir, there is no reason to use profanity!” She looked disgusted, “No wonder you attacked us.” She muttered under her breath, but evidently she was heard.

“Shut your muzzle! If you knew anything about history, you’d know that King Fost was forced into that war by that lying little Princess you love so much!”

“King Fost was a drunk warmonger!” She said back, keeping her annoyed glare.

“You little SHIT!” Screamed another griffon as he rushed her, and was tentatively held back by two other griffons, who were looking very angry as well. “You come to our city, accuse our old King of starting a war and insult us! Who in A’ella’s name do you think you are?!” Yelled the griffon.

“I’m somepony who’s read a book in their life. I don’t know why you worship an obviously fake god, but maybe that’s why savages like you decided to attack Equestria.”

All the griffons stopped dead, stunned by her insult at their faith. The two griffons that were holding the angry one back let go and took a step back. “I’m going to rip off your horn and mail it back to your princess you little fuck.” Said the griffon silently, shaking.

“I don’t think so.” Alula said, looking at the griffon in a condescending manner. “Do you know who you’re threatening? I’m the personal student of Princess Celestia.”

“I don't care who you think you are! I’m going to shove this pistol so far up your ass, you’ll taste the lead before I squeeze the trigger!” He said, grabbing a pistol from another griffon, and pointing it threateningly at her.

“That weapon is Equestrian contraband, how did you get it?” She asked in shock.

“Like I said, my granddad was in the war. Now get the hell out of our city!”

“Those pistols weren’t invented back then! How did you get it?” She asked, a slight growl in her voice.

“HA! Are you joking? My grandfather invented these things!” He shook the pistol a little. “Kels, Commander of the Talon Corps, and personal friend of King Laine Fost.”

“Then I assume he would have been just as much of a savage.” She looked at him. “Oh, and didn’t Kels kill himself?” Silence hung in the air again.

“Nobody insults him.” Said the griffon with the pistol, tears forming in his eyes. “He was more of a man than you will ever know.”

“Sure he was. I’m sure that he was great at planning sneak attacks and lying little traps.” She said sarcastically. “Your grandfather never lead a single charge, always behind the front lines, leading from the back. Your father was a coward. And you know what? Cowardice is hereditary. I bet you’re too scared to even squeeze that trigger. Those aren't talons, those are little kitty claws!”

The griffon looked at her in shock and quickly hefted the pistol and aimed it at Alula’s head, he then said one more thing. “See you in pony hell.” He pulled the trigger. There was a click, then silence.

“I bet you’re wondering why your gun’s not working. While you were going on that little rant, I was taking the shot and charge right out of your little flintlock. You griffons are as dumb as you are tall.”

“YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT!” Screamed the griffon and he charged her, claws at the ready, but was stopped by something. Looking down in confusion, he realized that she was holding him back with her magic.

“Predictable.” She said snidely. There was a small coughing noise, and she looked away from the single griffon to see all the others glaring at her.

“Run little pony, Run.” Said another one, with a slight Stalliongrad accent. The small mob rushed forward, and there was a flash of light and Alula was gone, leaving the mob looking around for them missing pony.

~~~~~

Alula looked from down the street at the confused griffons, who were milling about looking for her. Rolling her eyes, she walked away and took an alternate route around the street, towards her original destination: The Griffon National Library; one of the few places that survived the sacking and riots that plagued the city under Fost’s rule.

She encountered no more griffons on the way, she supposed that they must be afraid of the library. She chuckled silently at her little inside joke. She entered the library and immediately picked out a few history books from the war years and sat down with them. She was here to do some research to get back on Celestia’s good side. Recently, she had been... dismissed from her school, on the grounds of insulting her superiors.

Eventually, she reached a small book, very small in fact. It was bound in leather, the back cover wrapping around to the front and tucking under a small velt on the front. It was black, almost falling apart, and unmarked by any name or title. She opened the book and quickly began reading.

“April tenth, Year 11 F.R.” The first line read, in the griffon language of old. It was a dead language now, but she had studied it in her free time.

F.R. Stood for Fost’s Revolt, if she remembered correctly. The Griffon King had proclaimed a new era in history, and made an entirely new calendar just for himself. She shook her head briefly and looked back to the journal.

“I just joined the Talon Corps. First day in basic training starts tomorrow. I’m so excited. I won't lie, I’m not very good with politics, but the King wouldn't steer us wrong. I went to some of his speeches, and my dad even saw him speak at that beer hall in Hardra, where it all started.”

Alula looked at the journal with confusion. Flipping it over again, she looked at the back and front again. No markings still. Getting up, and approaching the griffon librarian whom she had passed on the way in, she held the book up.

“Excuse me? Where did this book come from, and why isn’t it labeled?” She demanded. The librarian was an old griffon, with dull brown feathers and graying white ones.

He grabbed the book from her magic and inspected it for a moment.

“Never seen it before.” He shrugged and handed it back, but she didn’t accept it.

“Who wrote it?”

“I said I haven’t seen it before.” He held out the journal again, and this time she took it back. Walking away from him, she went back to her small table and began to read again.

“April eleventh, Year 11 F.R.

Basic training, it was the first day for everybody, everybody in the whole corps. I saw the Commander of the Corps himself, Kels. He was the one who welcomed us to basic training. He wasn't lying when he said we’d be in for a ride. A ten mile run on the first day is a bit much, but I can handle it. At least I didn’t have to fall out or lag behind. That said, I was drinking like a fish when I got back to the mess hall.”

“April nineteenth, Year 11 F.R.

Finally found this thing again, still don't know who took it, but I’m just glad to have it back. We’ve been waking up at four every morning to go for a five mile run, then we come back and get some breakfast before we’re off to more training. It’s pretty brutal, but I can take it. I’ll get in the Talon Corps if it kills me.”

“April twenty-fifth, Year 11 F.R.

We started weapons training today, fun to say the least. I’d seen griffons in Hardra with pistols, but these ‘muskets’ are like tree limbs with iron in them! They’re huge! Probably explains why they could punch such a huge hole in those wooden targets. My commander complimented me on my accuracy, a nice change from all the yelling and barking of orders. Of course right after that the other recruits started giving me shit about sucking up to the commanders. It doesn’t matter, I’m still a better shot than any of them.”

Getting up from the table again, Alula grabbed the leather journal and walked over to the librarian again.

“How much for this book?” She asked urgently, shaking it a little.

“You can have it. Like I said, never seen it before. Probably doesn’t even belong in the library.” He shrugged, indifferent.

“When do you close?” She asked, hoping for a few more hours. She had yet to make any plans on where she would stay.

“We don’t.” Said the librarian gruffly. “Half the time there’s nobody even here.”

“But what if somepony was going to steal the books?” She asked incredulously.

“Then they’re stolen. This country’s gone to shit, and you think we care about a few books?” He laughed, a rough, throaty sound. Alula looked at him one with an odd look, before returning to her table.

“April twenty-sixth, Year 11 F.R.
We’ve fallen into a daily routine now, wake up at five, run for a few miles, eat breakfast, more physical training, more firearm exercises, more everything. I’ve been told most of us will be put on the ground forces.”

“April twenty-ninth, Year 11 F.R.
After a while, routine gets boring. I mean, sure I’m dying at the end of all physical training, but it gets old doing the same thing over and over. I wish I could get out of here, and just get into the corps. But, if this is what it takes, I’ll keep my beak shut and man up.

“April thirty-first, Year 11 F.R.
Last day of the first month of training. I haven’t made many friends here yet, most everybody here are too busy being assholes to do anything else. But, there was this one guy who was pretty cool. His name was Hace. Like I said, pretty cool guy. He’s not a very good shot with a musket, but he’s pretty good with close quarters combat. We’ve been giving each other pointers and he’s actually pretty good with a gun now. Likewise, if I might be so bold, I’m fairly good in CQC now too.