Me and My Daughters

Intermission: A Thousand Little Love Stories. Part 1

It was the smell of burning flesh that awoke Celestia.

" ...cess Celes... Prin ... ou alright?!"

Her head hurt, and her wings ached. As her brain acclimated itself, she noticed a persistent stinging on her barrel, likely that of an open wound. That idea alone frightened her; alicorns were not wounded easily. That meant whoever did this had the weapons and the tools to face an alicorn princess, and if that were true, she couldn't imagine the fate of the few that accompanied her. With that thought in mind, Celestia opened her eyes slowly, finding herself face to face with a pair of worried, amber eyes.

"Princess..." The feminine voice sounded young. Too young to be fighting, at least, Celestia thought. As she slowly tried rising from the ground, a sharp pain in her abdomen made her pause her careless attempts. "You shouldn't do that. It... it'll get worse."

Celestia looked around, taking in the nightmarish sights of nearby corpses—gryphon and pony alike—as well as discarded weapons reflecting the glowing moon above, where the face of the mare in the moon glared down at her. Your fault, it said, and Celestia could not deny that statement. With all the strength she could muster, she glowered at the gryphon before her. "What happened here?" the alicorn asked, her voice firm, yet tired.

"You don't remember?"

She thought for a moment, trying to recall the actions that led her here, but a sharp pain in the back of her head made her pause. What have they done... "What happened?!" Celestia repeated, her wings rising with barely contained anger.

Though the gryphon did not look away, she fidgeted on the spot, visibly uncomfortable at what she was saying. "There was an ambush... We were no match for the surprise attack." She gulped, then added, "I think... I think we're the only ones left."

The alicorn paled, her figure visibly slumping under the weight of the revelation, adding more lives to her large, ongoing body count. It was unfair for her ponies to have to suffer the horrors of war; so many lives should not have been wasted like that.

The Emperor, Celestia thought with disdain. Surely this was that old bird's doing, if not that council of his, if they are willing to betray their own kind just to accomplish a simple-minded goal. Peace with those barbarians is nigh impossible. "I understand now why gryphons cannot be trusted," she murmured. Her anger had burned out, leaving her voice hollow. "Murdering their own kind and—"

"We didn't... gryphons wouldn't do this!" the young gryphon shouted, livid. Being honest with herself, this was the first time Celestia had given more than a mere glance to her companion. Her amber eyes and black feathers complemented her silvery fur nicely, even if her short, yet toned frame currently shook with anger and exhaustion.

If she weren't so tired, I could make her shake from... no. Perhaps in another lifetime... This was not the moment for such crude thoughts. She had more important things she needed to keep in mind, figuring out what happened here being number one on her priority list. "What happened here, then? Who is responsible for this cruelty?"

"We've had issues with..." The gryphon paused, wondering if she should be talking with such liberty to the 'enemy' commander before shaking her head with a sigh. "...rebels. There are some who want this battle to continue. Those weren't soldiers! As surprising it may sound, Your Highness, most of us want this peace as much as you ponies do," she said with disdain, before collapsing on the ground beside Celestia, the weight of her situation crashing down on her.

Celestia couldn't help but agree with the gryphon's words. As she carefully attempted to stand again, her legs and barrel protested, but eventually she accomplished the seemingly impossible task. She found the remains of her armor lying beside her; noticing various patches of torn cloth around her body, she realized the gryphon must have taken them off to treat her wounds. "Thank you," she said, the gryphon barely acknowledging her gratitude, "For treating my wounds, that is. It was... kind of you."