Omake: Black Wings, Red Ground (Semi-Canon)
- Location
- Hell, or at least the closest place to it
AN: Welp, this is gonna be interesting.
Fluttering, dancing black shapes swooped down and landed on the branch of a dead tree, shaking the morning dew from the branches. Crowing, cawing, the murder talked amongst itself, fluttering and jumping from branch to branch, eager and joyous at the coming feast.
They had been growing fat and healthy off the spoils of their meals, and were eager for yet more. Though, every now and then, one would look down, and caw curiously at the little three legged pony crouched at the trees base, before turning back, ignoring the strange land dweller. There were more important things to focus on than the strangeness of land dwellers.
Sunnyside Smiles settled himself in his perch, mindful of the crackling and snapping of the dead leaves beneath him. The bright browns and reds did well to hide his dappled brown coat, though he did worry that the shade of his mane might give him away at a distance. After all, white streaked with blue wasn't exactly a autumn color. He decided it would be fine, but made sure to move lower to the ground just in case. Finally settled as best as he could, he took a moment to inspect his surroundings.
Located a good distance from the site of the spectacle to come, it was perched atop a lonely, slight hill. Stark against the afternoon sun, it's white bulk stood out even more due to its seeming isolation to the fields of grain and forests below it though he guessed that would make it more forgettable.
After all, such a location would be too noticeable to be suspicious. At least, that's what his master would say, and Smiles was inclined to listen to the old bird, considering he had been doing such things for so long.
The afternoon sun shone bright against the sky, the mornings rain clouds having retreated to the distant mountains. Below the hill, stretched out for what looked like miles was fields of grain and wheat, shining bright and golden in the autumn sun. A river cut lazily through a meadow to the east, bubbling and flowing coldly through the land scape, and flowing through a large village in the distance From his place, he thought he could see smoke rising into the sky.
Such a pretty location, almost made Smiles want to have a picnic.
Shame that, considering what would happen.
It had been a few years since the Civil war had swept through Maretonia, following the assassination of the Queen. House Whitefire and Star had been battling for control of the throne for years, with the Abolitionists on the sidelines striking at whomever they could. Smiles couldn't fault them for their enthusiasm, but knew from others that they weren't much in comparison to the main competitors, even with Gryphon help.
He knew, from one of the maps he had been given, tucked away in his pack, that he was in the west part of Maretonia, in some province or another. He wasn't sure which one, but knew that it lay between the lands of House Whitestar and Storm, and as such, it was a prime place to control. Both sides would require food for their armies, and the river allowed whomever held it to control the whole region and such a place would be vital for the war effort.
Or at least, that's what they said. Smiles was pretty sure that both houses wouldn't need such a pretty reason to fight for this place. They thought it as valuable, so they both wanted it. Simple as that. Still, such a sha-
Splat!
Smiles jolted out of his thoughts as something wet and cold hit him on his flank. Looking behind him, he saw that a white liquid had hit him right on his cutie mark. Leaning closer, he sniffed at it, then recoiled. Crabapples, it was crow poop!
He glared upwards, and was met by crows and caws that he thought was mocking laughter. Grumbling, he turned and reached into his pack with his muzzle, fishing for his cleaning cloth. Not for the first time, he wished he had been born a unicorn, and could magic to fish it out, or turn those damn crows into roads or something. Alas, his lot was that of a lowly earth pony, so no such luck.
Suddenly, his teeth met something metal. Blinking, he pulled out a gold locket, bright in the sunlight. He'd forgotten he had this. How long had it been in there? Popping it open, he looked at the picture scrap inside it, smiling slightly at the sight.
Rose good eyes stared back at him, hidden behind a coy gaze and flirty smile. His loves wings were tucked against her bulk, white and gold melding nicely into one beautiful Griffon. God-Emperor, he missed his Rosalina. He wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever see her again. He grinned, remembering the night before he left his town, and the goodbye present he had been given. And then had been given many times further, with increased fervor. He made a promise that night, looking over her sleeping body, that when he came back he would propose the moment he got home.
If he ever made it back.
His smile fell, and he stared out into the distance, a cold wind ruffling his blue streaked mane as if attracted to his somber thoughts. How long had it been? Two years? Three? He couldn't remember, only the battles and the fear and the strangeness of it all. He gazed down, and looked at the stump of flesh where his left hoof used to be. He grimaced, remembering how that had been taken, and what had led him to it. What had led him to this.
He never knew his parents. Apparently, they had been Canterburian or something, he wasn't sure. But they had been captured apparently, and enslaved by Maretonia. He had been born 3 years in to their slavery, after which he had been separated from them like stock at 3 years old, and sent to some fancy Maretonian estate.
His memories were hazy of that time, but he remembered a few things. Beatings when he wasn't fast enough. Beating when he was too fast. Beatings when he was there at all. Dressed as a Griffon and paraded around like a toy in front of important guests, then 'plucked' and made to try and fly from buildings. And then there were the nights.
He preferred not to think of the nights.
This went on for years, until, on his 15 name day, Maretonia made a mistake.
They bought slaves stolen from Griffonia.
He saw his chance, and never looked back. He fled across the border into the Crystal Empire, and from there, begged and stole his way until he reached Griffonia proper.
There, on the start of a new life, he finally chose a name for himself. And he won his cutie mark.
There, he discovered his destiny.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Horns blared.
Drums boomed out.
Smiles jolted out of his thoughts. The sun was at its zenith, and he realized time had passed while he waited. Quickly, he looked up, and turned towards the noise. Above him, the crows cawed and stirred excitedly. Repacking back into his pack, he pulled out the spy glass he had brought and focused it on the north horizon.
There, in the distance, he saw the glimmer of armor and dust cloud the Maretonia House WhiteStar army.
It was a small force, about 1000 or so. He saw the glint of Legionnaire armor, and guessed about 300 or so were amongst the body. The rest, he quickly noticed, were bare or barely armed, and he grimaced. Slave soldiers. Not surprising, but still disturbing to see. He could see their desiccated and bony flanks, hollow eyes and slave collars jingling. About 500 or so.
The rest were mercenaries he assumed, from their drab and dirty armor. He saw many bodies amongs them, some pony, some Griffon, a Minotaur or two. In the back, he thought he saw a group of unicorns around a particularly well armored pony. The commander he presumed. Now where was the-
A horn blare from the south caught his attention. He turned and saw the Storm army approaching. Similar disposition, maybe a hundred more. The crows grew more restless, cawing excitedly.
The two armies marched, eventually coming to a stop in the middle of field of grain directly in from of Smiles. A quiet settled over both. Smiles grew tense, the wait growing almost unbearable.
A shout, and then both armies charged, voices carrying across the area, as the clash of steel and screams echoed through out the area.
Later, as the sunset, and the screams died down to moans and wailing, Smiles, shaken by the sights, got up from his perch, and turned down the hill, walking slowly. Another stalemate. Another report to send to Griffonia.
As he left, he looked up, and saw the crows flutter and take off from the tree, and circle slowly down, to their feast below.
AN: This has been bothering for weeks. Freedom. @Questor, accept my offering.
"Throws trash through computer screen."
Black Wings, Red Ground
The crows came early for the feast.
Fluttering, dancing black shapes swooped down and landed on the branch of a dead tree, shaking the morning dew from the branches. Crowing, cawing, the murder talked amongst itself, fluttering and jumping from branch to branch, eager and joyous at the coming feast.
They had been growing fat and healthy off the spoils of their meals, and were eager for yet more. Though, every now and then, one would look down, and caw curiously at the little three legged pony crouched at the trees base, before turning back, ignoring the strange land dweller. There were more important things to focus on than the strangeness of land dwellers.
Sunnyside Smiles settled himself in his perch, mindful of the crackling and snapping of the dead leaves beneath him. The bright browns and reds did well to hide his dappled brown coat, though he did worry that the shade of his mane might give him away at a distance. After all, white streaked with blue wasn't exactly a autumn color. He decided it would be fine, but made sure to move lower to the ground just in case. Finally settled as best as he could, he took a moment to inspect his surroundings.
Located a good distance from the site of the spectacle to come, it was perched atop a lonely, slight hill. Stark against the afternoon sun, it's white bulk stood out even more due to its seeming isolation to the fields of grain and forests below it though he guessed that would make it more forgettable.
After all, such a location would be too noticeable to be suspicious. At least, that's what his master would say, and Smiles was inclined to listen to the old bird, considering he had been doing such things for so long.
The afternoon sun shone bright against the sky, the mornings rain clouds having retreated to the distant mountains. Below the hill, stretched out for what looked like miles was fields of grain and wheat, shining bright and golden in the autumn sun. A river cut lazily through a meadow to the east, bubbling and flowing coldly through the land scape, and flowing through a large village in the distance From his place, he thought he could see smoke rising into the sky.
Such a pretty location, almost made Smiles want to have a picnic.
Shame that, considering what would happen.
It had been a few years since the Civil war had swept through Maretonia, following the assassination of the Queen. House Whitefire and Star had been battling for control of the throne for years, with the Abolitionists on the sidelines striking at whomever they could. Smiles couldn't fault them for their enthusiasm, but knew from others that they weren't much in comparison to the main competitors, even with Gryphon help.
He knew, from one of the maps he had been given, tucked away in his pack, that he was in the west part of Maretonia, in some province or another. He wasn't sure which one, but knew that it lay between the lands of House Whitestar and Storm, and as such, it was a prime place to control. Both sides would require food for their armies, and the river allowed whomever held it to control the whole region and such a place would be vital for the war effort.
Or at least, that's what they said. Smiles was pretty sure that both houses wouldn't need such a pretty reason to fight for this place. They thought it as valuable, so they both wanted it. Simple as that. Still, such a sha-
Splat!
Smiles jolted out of his thoughts as something wet and cold hit him on his flank. Looking behind him, he saw that a white liquid had hit him right on his cutie mark. Leaning closer, he sniffed at it, then recoiled. Crabapples, it was crow poop!
He glared upwards, and was met by crows and caws that he thought was mocking laughter. Grumbling, he turned and reached into his pack with his muzzle, fishing for his cleaning cloth. Not for the first time, he wished he had been born a unicorn, and could magic to fish it out, or turn those damn crows into roads or something. Alas, his lot was that of a lowly earth pony, so no such luck.
Suddenly, his teeth met something metal. Blinking, he pulled out a gold locket, bright in the sunlight. He'd forgotten he had this. How long had it been in there? Popping it open, he looked at the picture scrap inside it, smiling slightly at the sight.
Rose good eyes stared back at him, hidden behind a coy gaze and flirty smile. His loves wings were tucked against her bulk, white and gold melding nicely into one beautiful Griffon. God-Emperor, he missed his Rosalina. He wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever see her again. He grinned, remembering the night before he left his town, and the goodbye present he had been given. And then had been given many times further, with increased fervor. He made a promise that night, looking over her sleeping body, that when he came back he would propose the moment he got home.
If he ever made it back.
His smile fell, and he stared out into the distance, a cold wind ruffling his blue streaked mane as if attracted to his somber thoughts. How long had it been? Two years? Three? He couldn't remember, only the battles and the fear and the strangeness of it all. He gazed down, and looked at the stump of flesh where his left hoof used to be. He grimaced, remembering how that had been taken, and what had led him to it. What had led him to this.
He never knew his parents. Apparently, they had been Canterburian or something, he wasn't sure. But they had been captured apparently, and enslaved by Maretonia. He had been born 3 years in to their slavery, after which he had been separated from them like stock at 3 years old, and sent to some fancy Maretonian estate.
His memories were hazy of that time, but he remembered a few things. Beatings when he wasn't fast enough. Beating when he was too fast. Beatings when he was there at all. Dressed as a Griffon and paraded around like a toy in front of important guests, then 'plucked' and made to try and fly from buildings. And then there were the nights.
He preferred not to think of the nights.
This went on for years, until, on his 15 name day, Maretonia made a mistake.
They bought slaves stolen from Griffonia.
He saw his chance, and never looked back. He fled across the border into the Crystal Empire, and from there, begged and stole his way until he reached Griffonia proper.
There, on the start of a new life, he finally chose a name for himself. And he won his cutie mark.
There, he discovered his destiny.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Horns blared.
Drums boomed out.
Smiles jolted out of his thoughts. The sun was at its zenith, and he realized time had passed while he waited. Quickly, he looked up, and turned towards the noise. Above him, the crows cawed and stirred excitedly. Repacking back into his pack, he pulled out the spy glass he had brought and focused it on the north horizon.
There, in the distance, he saw the glimmer of armor and dust cloud the Maretonia House WhiteStar army.
It was a small force, about 1000 or so. He saw the glint of Legionnaire armor, and guessed about 300 or so were amongst the body. The rest, he quickly noticed, were bare or barely armed, and he grimaced. Slave soldiers. Not surprising, but still disturbing to see. He could see their desiccated and bony flanks, hollow eyes and slave collars jingling. About 500 or so.
The rest were mercenaries he assumed, from their drab and dirty armor. He saw many bodies amongs them, some pony, some Griffon, a Minotaur or two. In the back, he thought he saw a group of unicorns around a particularly well armored pony. The commander he presumed. Now where was the-
A horn blare from the south caught his attention. He turned and saw the Storm army approaching. Similar disposition, maybe a hundred more. The crows grew more restless, cawing excitedly.
The two armies marched, eventually coming to a stop in the middle of field of grain directly in from of Smiles. A quiet settled over both. Smiles grew tense, the wait growing almost unbearable.
A shout, and then both armies charged, voices carrying across the area, as the clash of steel and screams echoed through out the area.
Later, as the sunset, and the screams died down to moans and wailing, Smiles, shaken by the sights, got up from his perch, and turned down the hill, walking slowly. Another stalemate. Another report to send to Griffonia.
As he left, he looked up, and saw the crows flutter and take off from the tree, and circle slowly down, to their feast below.
AN: This has been bothering for weeks. Freedom. @Questor, accept my offering.
"Throws trash through computer screen."
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