Revolutionaries from Aquila, few of whom are even on tanks. And also their less well armed helpers from other principalities. All these soldiers gathered in front of the last bastion of the holy monarchy, Pridea.
All these traitors came to massacre and destroy the city to the ground. The revolutionaries have nothing sacred. That was clear when they killed the king.
“We can only hope that at least one of the royal family is alive. “I muttered, tightening the grip of my claws on my rifle. I was now on the balcony of a house in the suburbs of Pridea. No one has time to build proper fortifications. We'll just have to use the buildings.
With a quiet sigh, I grabbed the binoculars that were lying on the blood-red chair and looked forward through them. There I found the griffins in some new form. And after only a second, it gave a growl. It looks as if the traitors have already started turning the troops of the different principalities into a single republican army. Ugh, already believing in their victory.
I took a deep breath to calm down and continued to cautiously scrutinize the enemy positions through the binoculars. Tanks? There are many. So far I haven't had the misfortune to meet them in battle. But I guess my luck ran out today. Because in addition to tanks, I've spotted enemy artillery. And in large numbers. And absolutely no camouflage. It's infuriating. Fucking Republicans, showing their disrespect!
And these vile creatures will decide what the future great Kingdom of Aquileia will look like!?
My paw swung almost instinctively to take out its anger on the binoculars. But the sudden sound of footsteps behind me made me instantly grab my rifle with my claws and point it at the place where the sound had come from. There I saw a griffon with most of its fur covered with gray hair. Tensing up, I shouted irritably: “Hey, old! This is a war zone, you have no business being here!”
The old griffon didn't comply and just started walking forward towards the balcony where I was. My claws gripped the rifle harder and harder, as if trying to crush it. There was something strange about this old griffon. A sign that he wasn't worth shooting at.
Finally, the griffon came to the balcony railing and stared at the Republican positions with a disappointed look. After a few seconds, he muttered hoarsely: “My advice in case you survive today. The Republican doesn't consider you a griffon, so don't consider him either. When fighting a war with the honorless, you need to give up honor as well.”
“Like you know anything about war. You're clearly not of draft age.” I muttered slowly and carefully turning my rifle toward the enemy positions.
Griffon only sighed and muttered with a shake of his head, “Things were much simpler during the first revolution. Especially when an experienced captain could command the troops.”
Did he see the first revolution? As a captain? Uh, even so, why is he here? To whine about how we're failing? Well, I figured that out the moment Vinovia fell!
I swallowed my irritation and asked almost calmly, “Why did you come here? Don't you want to live in a world where the Republicans win?”
The old griffon began to do the most un-expected thing for such a situation. He started laughing. A few seconds of hoarse laughter cut through the silence of the abandoned house just before the old griffon calmed down and said with a nod, “You're right. But only partially.”
Suddenly he brought his face closer to mine and said slowly: “I've come to make sure that the soldiers remember what they're fighting for. That they remember what the Kingdom of Aquileia is.”
Hmm? Is he going to go up to every soldier and give them a test? How silly. . .
Before I could say anything, the old griffon rested his front paws on the balcony railing and asked loudly: “Te Souviens-tu, soldiers?”
“What do you think we should remember?” I muttered irritably looking at the old griffon. If the Republicans had one decent gunner, he'd just blow his brains out.
Paying no attention to me, he continued in a slightly more active tone:
Do you remember that this land used to be a land of blood and wine?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Do you remember when, long before the Empire, our flag shine?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Rhyme. There's rhyme in his damn words.
Realizing there was a rhyme in his words I muttered fearfully and irritated: “Are you really going to sing!?”
The griffon nodded without even turning toward me and continued singing but louder:
Do you remember when our homeland first raised its head against the empire?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Do you remember the connection between scorched earth and Kaiser?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
We need to stop it before the Republicans start firing specifically at us, not just as they get!
Before I could yell anything, I heard a quiet, yet very long, “Oooh.”
Despite the suddenness, in the next few moments the same sound was heard from many directions, which ended up sounding like a chorus in an opera. And it was all created by the soldiers who remain in their positions.
The old griffon seemed to be satisfied and continued singing:
Do you remember how King Gerad revived a glorious kingdom?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Do you remember that glory, happiness and wisdom?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Yes. . . I remember it wasn't the proverbial democracy that created this country. Freedom was created by the crown.
The volume of the chorus only got louder and even I hesitantly began to back it up. The old griffon grinned and continued singing, raising one paw upward.
Do you remember when the Republicans were defeated by the best of the griffon race?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
Do you remember what happened to this place?
Tell me soldier, Te Souviens-tu?
The Republicans allowed a commune to be established at this location. They let the Communists destroy everything beautiful about a rich port city!
Along with the rising righteous anger, the chorus of soldiers became louder, but the old griffin suddenly lowered his head. His voice became less martial and he put his paw on the balcony railing before continuing to sing:
Do you remember? . . . But here my voice trembles because there are no noble memories left
Go soldier, create new memories on your own.
But if victory becomes a victim of theft
Don't get upset soldier, and answer my question: Te Souviens-tu?
After these words, it became abundantly clear to everyone that the old griffin would not continue singing. The chorus of soldiers stopped and a tense silence hung in the air. My mind was quiet for a while before I took a deep breath.
Before I die, I will kill at least one Republican. For the King. For Aquileia.