I
At dusk, the Gryphan Hawkeye would stretch his short wings and arms before asking us, “Well, what about it?”
Blitz and I would in turn say, “All right.”
The other Gryphan, Titus, who was considerably larger than his friend, would light a small lamp using a fire-augmented piece of magemicite (no doubt former ammunition) and brought out a pack of Equestrian playing cards, which by the looks of them, seemed to be vintage and very worn-out. He would set up the table, at which point Lieutenant Pezuña, our commanding officer, would always walk in.The lieutenant was an earth-pony stallion ten years my elder. When he wasn’t actively playing cards with us, he would “supervise” the games like a referee. Often, he would get angry at Blitz and I for our lack of playing prowess, but it was Hawkeye's playing strategies that he seemed to have the most issue with. It was because of this that Pezuña would shout at the prisoner as if he was part of our unit: "Ah, ya’ winged devil! Why’d you play that hand?”Blitz and I used to make fun of the lieutenant’s broad Appleloosan accent because we were both city dwellers, myself hailing from Canterlot and Blitz from Cloudsdale. That stopped soon as he proved more than capable of using his revolver.Ordinarily, Pezuña was contented fellow, much like the big Gryphan. It was because of this that he was looked up to by the younger troops. That, and his experience. He’d served almost sixteen years in that wretched wall between Equestria and the Blackland marshes, and nearly fifteen before that as a sheriff in Appleloosa.Pezuña still loved his home, which is probably why he wore a straw cowpony hat, a red neckerchief, and a plain crimson shell-coat jacket. The thing about Pezuña was that you seldom saw him without his hat and neckerchief, which doubled as a mouth cover when the weather got exceptionally cold. When you asked him about the rather moot nature of the neckerchief when more adequate mouth-covers could be requested from the commissary, he would grow flustered, almost as if you’d just insulted his honor. At the mention of his honor however, he would look down at his big hooves, almost as if ashamed of something.As I gazed at the two Gryphans, I noted how they played their cards without much of a care. This reminded me of a rather pressing matter: how I couldn’t see the point of us “guarding” them at all. You could have literally planted that pair down anywhere from here to Canterlot and they'd have taken root like native weeds.In truth, the pair had been passed down to us by a group of Gryphos loyalist working alongside our units as they quelled the rebellion. They had warned us that the Gryphan separatist were nothing more than “evil fanatics out to tear Gryphos apart.” Yet, just by speaking with Titus and Hawkeye, I could tell the warning was more propaganda than fact. It was because of this that Blitz and I, being by far the youngest and most “inexperienced” of the troops (I was eighteen, the next youngest was Blitz, who was nineteen) ”volunteered” to take the pair in the hopes of getting some of the real story from them.It hadn’t been easy at first, as Hawkeye had made us look like fools by not only reciting the Equestrian Constitution, but also listing various obscure laws that made me reach for a law book. Once we got past that small hurdle, the two Gryphans opened up, and in the expanse of a month, became almost like comrades at arms.“Hey, Bonaparte,” Hawkeye said to me. “I’ve heard fair bit about you from Pezuña here.” He points to Pezuña, who merely rolls his eyes. “He says you’re the best shot around these parts.”“Ah’ said ‘e wuz a ‘good’ shot, not th’ ‘best’,” old Pezuña said, his tone growing somewhat annoyed. “Get yer facts straight there, Gryphan. Ahm th’best shot ‘round these here parts.”“Sorry old timer,” Hawkeye said as he put down his cards. “Full house.”Pezuña looked on at the Gryphan’s hand, seemingly lost for words. He scoffed and put down his cards facing down. “Ah’ fold.” He turned to look at Blitz and myself with narrowed eyes, as if telling us to not lose to the griffon.I looked down at my own hand; a single pair of kings. I shook my head and put down my cards. No need to say a word.Blitz looked at his cards before groaning, his wings flaring slightly. “Dammit, no good!” he put his own cards down. “I fold too.”Pezuña let out a deep sigh as he sat back on his chair, looking very much disappointed at us both.Hawkeye looked around and found himself smiling quite broadly, only giving his fellow griffon an inquisitive look.For his part, Titus remained very stoic, not a single hint on his face that could show just what his hand held.Hawkeye gave a slight chuckle as he moved to claim his prize: a pile of cigarettes and a bottle of hard cider. Just then, Titus placed a hand over Hawkin’s and smiled rather wickedly. He then revealed his cards to be four aces. He never said a single word, but the message was very clear: ‘I’ve won the draw.’Hawkeye’s face shifted, becoming quite upset. He put his cards down and seemed just about ready to stand up and walk away. Then, his frown slowly turned to a smile. He retreated, motioning Titus to claim his prizes.Titus didn’t waste time. He reached into the pile and plucked out a small cigarette. He placed it on his beak and looked at me. Again, the message was clear: ‘Would you mind?’I lit up my horn and created a small fireball, which I carefully floated near Titus’ cigar before I willed it out of existence.After Titus took the first drag, he reached for the bottle of hard cider and tossed it to Hawkeye, who caught it with a smile. He popped the cork open with his beak and downed a rather big gulp.“It’s not for anything,” he started, “but you Equestrians know how to make your Cider.” He laughed at this, one that Titus seemed just about ready to return, but instead opted to keep to himself.Titus and Hawkeye were unique prisoners in many ways. While the pair were indeed rebels—and therefore traitors to both Gryphos and Equestria, guilty of various “war crimes” by default, and very much liable to be executed on sight should they cross any other soldier’s path—they were unnaturally lax. The pair had no desire to go back to the Separatists it seemed, and had no desire to cause anypony harm. They were very different from the other Gryphan separatists we had fought, who, while not quite reveling in carnage and warfare, seemed quite content to cause them.After the first couple of weeks under our care, we gave up all pretense of keeping a critical eye on the pair. Even if they attempted to escape, the nearest town was almost fifty miles to the south, past a massive bog that could claim even the most prepared soul. The constant blizzards made flying all but impossible, not to mention getting past the barricades and patrols both on the ground and the clouds.All of this proved moot however; as I quickly have come to believe that the pair had no idea of escaping, and were in fact quite content to be where they were. I noted this when Titus had opened up to the young mare whose house we were using as temporary quarters.Her name was Rosovyy. She was a headstrong earth pony who had a no-nonsense attitude and was quite cranky to boot. I knew this from her first reaction to us “invading” her home.It had been a rather cold day, and we’d just separated from the main group, who moved ahead to secure a small settlement. We had wandered in the cold snow for a few hours before we had come across the rather gloomy looking farm. There, on the frozen fields had been the young mare, her body covered in a rather warm looking coat of what looked like a bear pelt.We approached her home cautiously, aware that the locals didn’t hold Equestrians and Gryphans in the best of lights. It was for that reason that her reaction to us had been to grab her hoof-axe and shout at us to leave or she would “crack our skulls open.”Thankfully, before she even had a chance to carry out her rather macabre threat, Titus had made her his “Very Best Friend for Life” by first standing up to her, catching the axe swing she tossed his way, and then apologizing in a rather amicable tone that seemed to be unfitting of such a large griffon. After a few more words were exchanged, and our situation was revealed to her, she agreed to let us “borrow” her land, but not her home.So, for the next five days, Titus, Hawkeye, Blitz, Pezuña, and myself all had slept in a flimsy tent. The cold of each night had forced all of us to forget about both ideologies and gender, and huddle up for warmth.Our luck changed on the sixth day. This happened a little past noon. Rosovyy had been hacking at a few old dead trees in an attempt at getting rid of them with little success when Titus, who had been playing cards with us, had suddenly stood up, walked up to the young mare, and demonstrating chivalry most of the ponies outside of Canterlot’s elite circle had, offered his aid with a bow and a “tip” of his metaphorical hat. He had then cracked his knuckles and started to shred the dead foliage with his bare claws, ripping wood asunder as if it were butter. It had been a bit unnerving to see, obviously.For her part, the young mare had been very surprised—shocked even—to speak at all. The gesture worked however, as soon after, she told us to get inside her home before we all became popsicles. After that day, Titus would be at Rosovyy’s heels, carrying buckets or baskets or cut-up logs anywhere she went. As Hawkeye told us later, Titus was the sort of griffon to go leaping before looking. This was clear by how it seemed like Titus was seeking outside companionship that didn’t involve claws or beaks. He was fortunate that Rosovyy seemed willing to accept the fact that he was both a griffon and an ex-separatists, seemingly taking a strong liking to him and his “strong silent ways.”I actually got to thinking as I recalled how we got an abode. Just how long it would be before Titus settled to a new life with the young mare? It was a thought I found somewhat hard to believe, since for such a huge griffon, Titus had an uncommon lack of speech, Hawkeye literally being the one to speak on his behalf most of the time. It took us a little while to get used to him just walking in and out of the house like a ghost, never once saying a single word.Hawkeye on the other hoof, talked enough for an entire platoon, and then some. This made it the more startling (scary almost) when Titus would come out with a solitary “excuse me,” or “that's right” whenever any of us would talk. It seemed like his passions were cards and Rosovyy; Cards, as proven by his many victories. Rosovyy because, well, that one was pretty self-explanatory.Hawkeye and Blitz started to argue about ideologies again. Hawkeye always worried the life out of Blitz, who had a very strong set of beliefs about the princess and her role in keeping the world in balance. This wasn’t helped much by Hawkeye, who had a very deplorable tongue. Truth be told, I’ve never met anyone who could mix such a variety of cursing and bad language into any argument and still have it make sense. This actually went well with his personality, which was the polar opposite of Titus’.Hawkeye was a terrible individual, and a fright to argue against. He never did a stroke of work around the house we currently occupied, and when he had no one else to argue with, he got stuck arguing with Rosovyy. He met his match in her, for when he tried to get her to complain profanely of the snowstorms, she gave him a great comedown by blaming it entirely on some obscure deity from the Age of Legend (a deity neither Hawkeye nor I had ever heard of, though Blitz said that among the Hyperborians, it was believed that he had something to do with the rain).Another day, he was swearing at the Gryphans for starting the griffon-equestrian war some fifty years earlier when the young mare laid down her iron, puckered up her little rosy mouth and turned to face him, fire in her eyes.“Mr. Hawkeye, you can say what you like about the war. You can think you'll deceive me because I'm only a simple country pony, and you can think I’ll just eat up whatever nonsense your separatists buddies push. But know that I know what started the war between ponies and griffons fifty years ago: It was the Count of Saddle Arabia, who stole the heathen divinity out of the temple of Neighpon, beating back dozens of trained Quilin honor guards in the process. Believe me, Mr. Hawkeye, nothing but sorrow and can follow anyone who disturbs the hidden powers.”Of course, she might've had a point if any of that had actually happened.She was a strange young mare, all right...
II
About a day before Hearth Warming’s Day, Blitz, Hawkings and I engaged in our almost ritualistic card game. We were down one head that day, as Titus was out helping Rosovyy in the town. It had been amusing to see Rosovyy get her stuff ready, only to be scooped up by Titus, who flew her there despite the rather strong winds. Could have sworn I heard Hawkeye call Titus some kind of griffon-based name.
Pezuña wasted no time, and came into the house soon as he heard our chattering. Hawkeye moved to deal him a few cards, but he merely raised a hoof, letting the Gryphan know that he was not interested in cards. The lieutenant simply sat opposite him, giving him a very cold look that Hawkeye either paid no mind to, or was oblivious to. I’d seen the look before, and it unnerved me.We played til the sun started to set, and during all that time, Pezuña merely sat by, not once interfering with the game, even when Hawkins played an exceptionally bad hand. All of a sudden, the lieutenant spoke. “So, what’ be the percedure fer’ prisoner handlin’ back home, griffon?”“Well,” Hawkeye started without looking away from his cards. “Unlike Equestria, Gryphos’s armed forces don’t like to take prisoners. Drains supplies and drains the economy.” He grabbed a card from the deck, his face as neutral as he could make it (which wasn’t much, considering how bad he was at cards). “That isn’t to say we just go around shooting POW’s.”“I heard you griffons used to kill anyone who still drew breath after battles though,” Blitz suddenly said, putting down his cards and looking Hawkeye in the eye.“That was centuries ago Blitz,” Hawkeye retorted. “Back then, it was considered a favor. Today we have laws that force us to aid any wounded on the battlefield.”“So, ye lot take prisoners then?” Penuña suddenly asked, cutting Blitz’s train of thought off.“No,” Hawkeye answered. “We give them supplies and send them on their way. Whether they go back home, or back to their army is up to them.” He took a deep sigh at that. “But I’d be lying if I said all griffons followed that law. Some of the more conservative leaders still exercise the old ways. I guess it depends where you go in Gryphos. Provinces closer to Equestria exercise the law with an iron claw. Those further east cling to the old ways.”Pezuña narrowed his eyes at Hawkeye’s answer. I guess it was a good thing the griffon had opted to look back at his cards, because the lieutenant’s glare seemed intense enough to bore a hole into his skull.“So,” Pezuña started, “yer kind doesn’t kill prisoners, but a’ the same time, yet lot does nothin’ to ensure they survive.”“Again, what the defeated do is up to them. We don’t kill them, but neither do we keep them locked up in some camp.” Hawkeye put his cards down once again and glared back at Pezuña. “You think us as nothing but ruthless, but we have honor. Killing unarmed prisoners is a punishable offense. There are those that see the laws as restrictive, and therefore have no issue with killing unarmed prisoners and civilians. But by breaking the law, they are turning their back on MY country. That’s why Titus and I—” He stopped himself just as he was about to say something none of us had heard. He shook his head with a faint smile on his beak. “Forget it. It’s obvious you wouldn’t understand.”Pezuña said nothing at that. Instead, he stood up, still glaring daggers at Hawkeye before leaving the table and walking outside.Suddenly, it struck me that something was very wrong. I quickly excused myself, leaving Blitz and Hawkeye to continue their game as I approached Pezuña, who had taken to cleaning his revolver, which he had loaded despite being in a “safe zone.” He quickly turned to face me soon as he heard my hooffalls. I then asked him what was wrong, to which his only reply was to glare at me before speaking.“Ye an’ Blitz there seem ta’ have fergaten yer’ real assignments,” he said in a cold, tone. “Yer ta’ watch them two Gryphans fer signs o’ trouble, not git all buddy-buddy with em’.”“What was up back there?” I dared ask.Pezuña sighed as he put his pistol away. “Haven’t ye heard ta’ news? Big o’ battle broke out not more than’ twenty miles from ere’. Separatists ambushed our unit. There are no confirmed survivors.”I felt a chill settle in the bottom of my stomach. Our unit, wiped out? How…I looked back at the lieutenant, whose face was alight with a deep grimace. “What does that have to do with Hawkeye?”Pezuna merely scoffed, looking through the window at the small Gryphan, who by the looks of it had gotten into yet another argument with Blitz over something.Those two argued almost as if they were a couple. I probably would have sensed something happening between the two had Hawkeye not divulged that he was a married griffon of two years, and had a little cub of one waiting for him back home. Same as Blitz, who had a filly of one, except he wasn’t married yet but planned to soon as his time in the field was over.“Ah’ wanted ta’ know what Gryphans normally do with ther’ prisoners. Ah know it was a long shot, but ah’ got all the answers ah’ needed.” He scoffed. “Poor lads be dead by naoh’.”“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t guarantee that.”“Enouh’ with the ‘sir’ bullcrap!” Pezuña nearly screamed. “Ah’ told ya’ to call me by ma’ name. Non’ o’ us outrank each other out here.” He looked away for a second, at which point I could catch a slight hint of hesitation.“As fer’ what it’s got to do with our Gryphan fellow. That be everythin’,” Pezuña coldly said as he turned towards the house, setting his gaze on the window. “Just look at im’, sitting there, being all buddy-buddy with Blitz and yerself. Plotting, that’ be what he’s doing.” He turned to face me. “And that Titus feller...” He seemed to be ready to say something, but cut himself off before anything could be uttered, his brow furrowing instead. “How can ya’ll be so comfortable ‘round them traitors?”“I highly doubt either one of them wants to kill us in our sleep,” I replied. “We’ve been around them quite some time now. If they really wanted us dead, don’t you think they’d done something by now?”“Who’s ta’ say they ain’t planning it? Can ya’ guarantee that Bonaparte? Can ya’?!” He pressed his hoof on my shoulder in an accusing manner.While his words rang with some truth, I couldn't help but glare at him. I didn’t really have any guarantee other than what my gut told me about the pair, and I could be dead wrong.Pezuña nodded his head somewhat bitterly in reply and stood up. “I’ma going fer a walk.” With that, he walked away, towards the nearby woods.It was at that instant that I suddenly realized that Pezuña, aside from not liking the Gryphans much (which came as a mild surprise, considering he hadn’t shown hints of his dislike before) was also hiding something.Something was very wrong indeed...I decided it was best to go back into the house and leave the lieutenant to his musings.
That evening, yet another argument broke out between Hawkeye and Blitz. This time, it was about capitalism.Blitz defended Equestrian capitalism, calling it “progressive and healthy,” while Hawkeye denounced it as “letting the rich get richer.”Titus had returned by now, and after spending the afternoon helping Rosovyy get our dinners ready (didn’t know he was such a good cook), he sat down to watch the debate unfolding before us. Pezuña sat in the far corner, still looking on at Hawkeye with a slightly chilly gaze.“The capitalists only want to get richer and richer!” Hawkeye said, his tone a few decibels short of a yell. “They don’t care who they have to step on to achieve it.” He looked at Blitz with a contemptuous glare.“Nonsense!” Blitz replied, losing his temper. “Capitalism breeds work etiquette! You earn what you work for!”“Says you,” Hawkeye said, pointing his claw at Blitz’s forehead. “Before capitalism became a rather sad aspect of government for you Equestrians, citizens believed in grater values: community, generosity, harmony.” He stood up as though he was preaching, prompting Pezuña to reach for his revolver. Titus shifted glanced at him, at which point he shook my head and eased a bit. “All of those things have been lost in the rush to make as much profit without a care as to what happens to our good earth.”“Is that so?” Blitz retorted with a sneer. “Where did you hear that? From your separatist buddies?” His tone was growing increasingly contemptuous.“No. I’ve seen it firsthand,” Hawkeye replied, taking the Gryphan’s harsh tone and shoving it right back at him. “You believe that life really is better when your entire system of government is based on greed?” He chuckled, “You probably believe that silly old fairytale about how Hypeboria was a paradise before we all discovered strife or something like that as well huh?” he said, crossing his arms. “Well, if you're entitled to a silly belief like that, then I'm entitled to my own silly beliefs as well. Capitalism is the greatest evil to consume this earth today.” He turned to Titus. “Am I right, or am I right!?”Titus simply smiled and shook his head.“Common’ man, show some support!” Hawkeye whined, tone falling a few decibels.Titus only rolled his eyes before getting up and walking to the next room, where the fire was being kept alive by Rosovyy.“Well, guess we know whose side your friend’s on,” Blitz said with a smug tone. Hawkeye merely got red as he stuttered to form a retort, only to scoff, cross his arms, and sit down in seeming defeat.Blitz, showing he was a good sport, put a hoof around the Gryphan’s shoulder and laughed. Hawkeye in turn seemed to not be too amused at first, but quickly changed his tone and started to laugh alongside Blitz.Pezuña didn’t look at all exited. He instead glared at Blitz, shook his head, and left the room. Hawkeye noticed this and visibly grew worried, enough to dispel whatever good mood Blitz had brought him.Seeing that Titus was going to the next room, and feeling a bit curious, I followed him. There, I noticed how he was prodding the fire with his talons.At first, I was concerned, fearing that he would get burnt. On closer inspection, I realized he was merely heating his palms. He stood up to look at me, and with a warm smile, motioned with his head for me to follow him outside.I weighed my options, but in the end decided it was best to do as he wanted. He turned to look at Rosovyy, who had a worried look, almost solemn, in her eye.Something wasn’t right here…
Titus and I strolled down to the nearby village, keeping very silent. As we entered the small town, I noticed how most of the villagers went about, preparing for what looked like war, putting up makeshift walls and digging small trenches. Up ahead, I saw part of my unit. They hailed me and I followed.Naturally, the first thing they did was ask about the “prisoner” I had in tow. I answered truthfully, which seemed to put them at enough ease to accept that a former separatist was walking around guarded by a single pony. They gave Titus a rather shifty look before telling me to “keep an eye on this one, especially now.” I of course knew they were referring to the recent news.I watched as the soldiers distracted themselves by hitting on any pretty filly they could find. By the time I turned back to Titus, he was already going down another path, one significantly less traveled. I of course followed. At that, I heard a low rumbling echoing through the rather ominous-looking dead foliage. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Titus’ laughter.Then, he spoke.“You know, normally it’s the prisoner who follows the warden, not the other way around.”I looked up at Titus, who shifted his eyes towards me, smile on his beak. “I think you better get on ahead of me before your superiors say something to you.”I blinked several times, attempting to get the message into my head. I knew Titus was right, but something about his tone, hay, the fact that he was talking in more than single words, unnerved me, especially considering his voice, which was deep and commanding. It was the kind of tone that any leader worth his salt strove to achieve.Finally, the message sank in, and I rushed ahead. We walked like that for about a minute before he once again broke the icy silence. “My former comrades have your friends hostage you know.”I stopped in my tracks at those words. I let out a sigh and turned to face Titus’ imposing figure. “I know,” was my only reply.He nodded. “Knowing their tactics before I left out of disgust, they are no doubt talking about shooting them.” He looked me dead in the eye with a steely face that told me he wasn’t jesting. “If they shoot your comrades, you know well you’ll have to kill me and Hawkeye.”“Kill you and Hawkeye?” I asked, stunned at Titus’ words.“Yes,” he replied without giving it a second thought. The look in his eyes, one of grim resolve, terrified me.“Why else did you think we’ve been allowed to live this long?” he asked. “Wasn't it obvious that we were allowed to live and move about relatively freely for a reason?” He looked into my eyes, and he could obviously see the confusion in them, because he smiled at me with some bitterness. “You honestly don’t know, do you lad?” He retreated, shaking his head. “Hawkeye and I are collateral.”At that instant, I started to understand: the special treatment, the out of the way location, the small detachment of guards down in the village, Titus’ silence and seeming lack of care. It all suddenly meshed together to form a revelation that sent shivers up my spine. I turned towards Titus and asked him one simple question: “What’s your full name?”Titus replied in a deadpan tone: “Titus. Titus Lionhert.”Lionhert... The Lionhert! The separatists’ former “hero” captain. Lionhert, who earned the hatred of his superiors by refusing to shed innocent blood, who turned his troops over to the Equestrians in the hopes of negotiating an end to the pointless conflict, who was supposedly executed as an example to the separatists...“But-but-but... you’re supposed to be—”“Dead?” Titus answered, cutting me off. “Yeah, I guess I should be.”“Does Pezuña k—”“Know? Of course he does, so do all the troops in the village. The only ones who didn’t know were Blitz and you. Don’t know why Pezuña never told you.”“What about Hawkeye?”“He was my second-in-command. He’s loyal to a fault and is quite the chatterbox. He used to be the one giving out my orders. Now, he’s just a very dear friend.”I took a step back, feeling my limbs shaking as the full implications of the role I’d been put under without even realizing it. All that time, I had been wrong. I never was taking care of a pair of weary vets from the enemy side. No, I had been looking over two of the most important prisoners to ever be taken from the Separatists. With that information, their taking of an entire squad—“Oh Luna, they really are planning to kill them!”“I’m afraid so,” Titus replied. “My former comrades are losing the war. They’ve been hammered to the point of desperation, and in that desperation they’ve turned to terror tactics. That’s why I turned myself and my men in; because that wasn’t a fight I was willing to be a part of.” His gaze hardened. “Anyone who takes up terror as a tool of war is scum.” He turned to face me and suddenly asked me a question I was not prepared for: “Bonaparte, what do you believe in?”I shifted my eye upwards as I thought about it. In my mind, I was already formulating several answers, most of which I felt weren’t my own. Before I could answer, Titus raised his claw, stopping me from speaking.“Now, I know that look. You’ve got a million different answers lined up. Yet, you wonder which of those answers actually is yours.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I’ve seen it a thousand times. Young lads like yourself going off into the world, thinking they know who they are, what they believe in, what they stand for.” He sighed. “Only to find out too late that they’d never even came close to being correct.” He shook his head. “So, let me ask you again. What do you believe in?”I tried my best to think of something that was mine, and not something drilled into my head by an authority figure. In the end, I came up completely blank.Titus must have noticed, as he gave me a deep sigh. He sat on his haunches and put a claw on my shoulder. At first, I was afraid he might just dig his talons right into my neck and sever my jugular vein, but his touch felt reassuring, almost like a mentor’s touch.“Ever heard of an old poem called ‘For it is Kind’?” Titus asked.My only reply was a shake of my head.He smiled, almost expectedly. “I should have known,” he started, bitterness in his tone, “it’s not the type of poem you would hear in Equestrian society. It’s a poem that was written during the Equestrian-Gryphan war sixty years ago. The author was a griffon simply known as ‘Crane.’ It’s not one of the most cheerful piece of poetry ever written, but what can you expect from a griffon soldier.”“Crane was a soldier?” I asked, almost in disbelief.“Of course he was. That didn’t stop him from having a knack for writing. The poem was the last thing he ever wrote.”“Did he live to see the end of the war?”“No. He died in battle. Was shot several times in the chest.”“So, how did he write the poem?”“He wrote it while bleeding out. Depending on who you ask, he used his own blood as the ink.”I shuddered at the image.“Still, his poem speaks a lot of truth.” He looked skywards with longing. “It speaks of both sides, and how there never is a true victor in war, only suffering.” He looked back down at me. “That’s why I asked you what you believed in. So many go out to fight for beliefs that aren’t theirs, and when they die, they do so with the knowledge they gave everything for nothing. That’s why I refused to let my men fight in a pointless war. That’s why I gave myself up.” He smiled. “It’s better to live for what you believe in, than to die for something that isn’t yours.”“What about duty to one’s country? Isn’t that enough of a reason to fight?”“Lad, there are many ways to show pride in your nation. War isn’t one of them.” He looked at me, as if expecting more of a reply from me. In truth, I half understood what he meant, but still felt that self-defence was always a necessity, no matter how crass it may be.When he noticed I wasn’t going to say anything else, he smiled. “Don’t worry lad, you’ll understand in time.” He then made his way back to Rosovyy’s home.Once again, I followed him there.
