Prologue
We can feel a great age ending. We believe they all can, many events have caused this thought, Princess Cadence reclaiming the Crystal Empire as her own, the industrial zones that use many workers to operate, Princess Celestia’s countless victories against the forces of evil, and the fact that ponies are calling this “the age of industry.” Due to these happenings, an empire of griffons who call themselves the Nigrum Calces has decided that the pony race is not capable of continuing the way we have for centuries. They believe that ponies are weaker, less intelligent, and simply inferior than griffons. They have taken the cities of Canterlot, Cloudsdale, and Ponyville. By them not only taking the cities but also torturing, enslaving, and murdering innocent ponies has caused a band of revolutionaries. The leader of that revolution being none other than a griffon named Gilda, though she’s gained quite the reputation for being a town bully, they follow her loyally, and the secondary leader of the revolutionaries being a mare named Rainbow Dash, the local celebrity of the town of Ponyville.
But who are we you may ask; we are the things that go bump in the night. I, Clockwork Grind, am an inventor as well as a loyalist to Princess Celestia. My partner, Obittus, is the entire backbone of our small force of three. And of course my assistant, Ditzy Doo or as she prefers to be called, Derpy Hooves. You see, we’re not revolutionaries, more like vigilantes. Though we do help the revolution, we do so indirectly. Killing or simply neutralizing high order targets. Targets that have wronged the town, targets that have murdered, that have enslaved, that have tortured physically and emotionally, which are mainly imperials. They have to be stopped at all costs. Though, perhaps, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let's start from the beginning.
Chapter 1
Obittus was born inside of a large inn owned by his parents, on the outskirts of Appleoosa. His mother was a griffon while his father was a pegasus. Obittus was born a griffon with ashen feathers and a charcoal gray beak. When the young one was born it was a tremendous relief, the parents had always wanted a child; be it boy or girl, though they could not ever conceive. By the time the new born griffon was only seven months old, he could take flight. He was always very adventurous, roaming around the town, from roof to roof, never actually having to fly from one rooftop to the other. Just a simple leap with his wings outstretched for only a mere second and he was across. Though Obittus had many fun days there we’re always the bullies, considering he was born during the time that the griffon empire became known to be hostile, many foals picked at him and always pushed him down, beating on him, all the time. Maybe because they were scared.
One morning during the family’s breakfast they received a visitor, the father volunteered to welcome the guests. As he inched the door open a familiar sound came from the outside, the tomboyish giggle of a young girl.
“Gilda! Uncle Max!” beamed Obittus. Gilda walked in along with her father.
“Obi!” responded Gilda beaming with just as much joy.
“C’mon Gils you know how much I hate that nickname!” whined Obittus.
“Well, next time we race maybe you should win and I won’t have to call you by an annoying nickname!” she chuckled.
“Why my boy, look at how you’ve grown! You’re nearly my size!” Maximillian proudly exclaimed as he walked over and hugged Obittus.
As Obittus hugged his uncle he stated, “Yep, already eleven years old.” He squeezed his uncle once more and flew over to Gilda, exchanged a wing bump, and continued their conversation.
“Man am I happy to see you, it’s been like a year.” declared Obittus.
“Yeah I know dude! Hey, check out what dad got for me,” Gilda said as she held up two tickets to a Wonderbolts airshow, “he says ‘one for you and one for young Obittus’.”
“Oh sweet! I haven’t got anything new to share with you, I mean this is Appleoosa, economy’s still growing. For now we can only afford food, clothes, and books for me to learn.” responded Obittus.
“Why don’t you kids go outside and play.” declared Gilda’s father.
“Alright dad, c’mon Obi! I’ll tell you all about the airshow!” Gilda ushered for Obittus to follow.
After the two had gone, and were out of earshot, Gilda’s father, Maximillian, started their conversation. "Hello Ophelia, been a while." he started. "I was just here to ask if you've spare room for twelve or thirteen of my troops. They need to recover here and then we'll be out of you're hair."
“I’m sorry Maxi; but we’ve already decided that we wish to stay out of the war so we can take care of Obittus. That includes not helping either side for anything.” said Obittus’s mother firmly.
“But we are trying to benefit you Ophelia. This war is to benefit griffons, these ponies do not deserve all of the power that whatever fucking god placed here!” argued Maximillian.
“Maximillian; I love you like a brother, but we are not going to welcome guests that might cost us our lives and I certainly will not allow you to talk to Ophelia like that!” declared Obittus’s father, Windspeed, with just enough force to get the point across.
The three of them sat there for a time, no movement, no speaking, no sound other than the wind and the stove. Maximillian cleared his throat and firmly said “Fine, I’ll just find my own way around this small dilemma.” As he turned to walk out of the door he said, “Just know that disobeying the Empire comes with consequences.”
He left the inn and walked to the middle of the yard. “Come Gilda, we’re leaving!” he barked. Gilda flew to his side at high speed followed by Obittus.
“Bye Gils, for now.” waved Obittus.
“We’ll come and pick you up so you can go to the show with us!” Gilda waved back.
The pair then separated, Gilda with her father, Obittus home. As Obittus walked into the house, he noticed the flustered yet somber looks on his parents’ faces. “What’s wrong mom?” he asked. Ophelia tried to brighten up and reassured him nothing was the matter.
Obittus agreed to this and ran off to get ready for the day, brushing his feathers, and packing a small lunch.
As he was leaving his parents stopped him and said, “Son, just know we’ll always love you. And if anything ever happens to us, seek out a stallion who calls himself Doctor Calgorie.”
Obittus agreed to this and returned the love with a peck on the cheek, and ran off to, as he called it “adventure.” Though there wasn’t much to explore in the small settlement of Appleoosa, Obittus had a tremendous imagination and continued to think of every place, even the ones he had already seen, as a new discovery. For example, when he glided on the rooftops one day he’d be dodging cannonballs, the next he’d be swiftly knocking out a guard and then moving on to assassinate his target. Even as he was playing an imaginary game he saw no need for excess bloodshed.
The young griffon returned to his home that day at dusk, ready for dinner, a bath, and sleep. He just couldn’t stop thinking about how great it’ll be at the airshow. As Obittus lay down for bed that night he went to sleep dreaming of the airshow; celebrities, smoke, cheering, and all kinds of action. He also dreamed of what it’d be like to be a pirate, as well as many other childish fantasies. Until he was awoken by a loud thump against his wall, coming from his parents’ room, he got up bravely to investigate.
As he walked into the corridor he took notice of the front door being open. How strange, mom always closes the door before bed, he thought. Obittus walked to his parents’ door, knocked, and waited for a response. He got one, he definitely got one.
The door swung open and hit him in the face. Fast. The young griffon was tossed onto the floor, disoriented and in pain. When he got himself back to his senses, which didn’t take long, he saw his uncle, Maximillian, standing in the doorway.
“Uncle…?”
“Hello Obittus, didn’t think I’d be back so soon did you? Well to tell you the truth, I’m not here on social terms, more like business.” He said as he wiped his bloodstained talon off with a rag,
“You see; your parents and the Empire didn’t quite see eye to eye. So I was sadly ordered to eliminate them in any way possible.”
Obittus stared at him with fear in his eyes, along with fury and hatred, but mainly fear. “So you just killed my parents?” he asked, still not able to fully comprehend what had just happened.
“No Obittus, I just killed a butterfly. Yes I killed your parents! Anyone who even dares to disobey the orders of the Empire is supplement to nothing but death.” He exclaimed sounding more and more psychotic with each word. But he certainly was straight and to the point.
He was infuriated by this and lunged at him. He tried his hardest to get at least a few good blows, but failed. Every swing or kick he threw at him, his crazed uncle seemed to be able to dodge, and parry with a blow of his own.
I guess that’s why he’s an officer in the military Obittus thought, panting due to all of the energy he’d just used up.
“Obittus please give up; I don’t want to kill you. At least not very violently, killing children just isn’t my thing.” He said nonchalantly. “Tell you what, if you give up now I’ll simply slit your throat. Now, how’s that sound?” he asked while withdrawing a dagger from beneath his wing.
He responded with a swift kick in the face, this stunned Maximillian. The young griffon took his vulnerable position as a chance to attack. He pounced on top of his uncle, and started clawing away at his eyes with his talons. Then Obittus felt a tight, gut-wrenching squish, followed by a violent gush of blood out of his uncle’s eye-socket.
Maximillian screamed, punched Obittus straight in the gut, which sent him against the wall, knocking water from an above hanging rack all over his head and soaking his wings, and scrambled to a stand.
“Why you little shit! How dare you attack your uncle, a proud officer of the Empire!” he said as he readied the blade with one talon, covering his now permanently blinded left eye with the other.
“Fuck you!” Obittus shouted and spit in his face. That was his first time ever cursing; he’d always heard ponies around town say it and very occasionally his parents but never gave into the temptation to actually say it himself.
But this time was different, this time there was anger- no, this time there was hate; burning, seething, thick, black, disgusting hate. He had never been so infuriated; all he could think of at the time was the best way to kill him, to make him suffer.
Maximillian then stabbed Obittus in the chest with the knife and pressed, pressed so that the young griffon could not move, could barely even wince. Once the young griffon had been killed, or so he assumed, the uncle left the knife in his chest, and set the inn ablaze. He didn’t care anymore if the child lived or died, he just didn't want to do it himself. But alas, he had to. Once the inn was completely engulfed in flames Maximillian left, went to the river to wash off the remaining blood, walked to the train station and waited for the next train to Ponyville; the empire’s next target.
Obittus however, never passed on due to the hastily placed aim of the blade. He was merely rendered stiff and throbbing in the left rib-cage. Obittus managed to crawl to a window of the burning inn, opened it, and saw that he was on the third story of the establishment. He took a deep breath, spread his wings, and leaped. His wings never had a malfunction before, he thought, so they certainly won’t now.
He was wrong.
Obittus had a second of airtime and then came crashing down, hitting trees, and clotheslines along the way. He tried grabbing various ledges as he descended. One was too thick and he lost grip. One was too thin and it broke. At last after roughly six tries he managed to grab ahold to a tree limb, a rather thick one, which knocked the wind out of him.
After he had landed on the ground and crawled away from the burning inn, Obittus lay down in the grass, curled himself into a ball, and cried. He cried and cried, letting tear after tear flow out, hot, wet, burning tears. He must have cried for hours because he fell asleep.
When he awoke, it was to the concerned faces of an apparent couple and in what looked to be a hospital room.
"Hello there,” the mare said in a sing-songy yet concerned tone, she had a curly orange mane and a yellow-ish-orange coat, “what’s your name?”
“O-Obittus, its Obittus.”
“Well then, are you alright?” the stallion of the two said, his mane was deep crimson and he had a grey coat. “We found you outside of a burning inn on the edge of town, you were pretty beaten up had a dagger plunged into your chest just missing your heart. Here." he said as he handed Obittus a tray of food that held cheese, bread, milk, and an apple.
"Thank you." Obittus said as he inhaled the food. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. Once he had finished his meal he finally had the strength to speak to the possible couple.
"Hey, could you tell us what happened?" the mare asked.
"Only if I can know your names first." said Obittus.
"Fireflight." said the stallion proudly. "First Lieutenant in the Equestrian army, Special Operations. Though I'm retired now."
"Carrottop," said the mare. "I'm nothing special ,really, just a simple gardener."
Obittus then agreed to tell them the events that had recently happened. He told every detail, from the joyful fun with Gilda to the horrific murder that night.
"By Celestia, that's awful." the couple said almost unanimously. "So then the Nigrum Calces has really begun to attack then." Fireflight added.
"So where will you stay?" Carrottop asked again in her sweet tone. "I mean your home is gone now, and you can't stay with your uncle."
"I don't really know," said Obittus as he stared out of the window. "I could always just go to an orphanage, either that or just become a petty street rat."
"Nonsense!" Fireflight said in a firm tone, "You'll be staying with us."
"But sweetie, we don't have that much money. And now that the winter season is settling in, so we won't have much from the garden."
"He could always pitch in, in this town it's not hard to get a job as a teenager. They need able bodied men anyway." reasoned Fireflight.
"I'd be happy to work and help out in your wealth on one condition." Obittus started.
"And that condition being?"
"You said you're ex-military right? implored Obittus.
"Well, yeah but-"
"Well then I want you to teach me. Train me, I want revenge, and if that means taking down all of the Nigrum Calces. So be it." said Obittus with a firm grip of what he was saying.
"You can't take a whole empire down Obittus-"
"But I can help, there might be others like me. Destroyed by the Empire. I could help them." interrupted Obittus. They both saw the passion and determination in his eyes so they knew they could not sway his opinion. They all sat there for two maybe three minutes just waiting for someone to say something, until Fireflight finally spoke up.
"Fine, but just know this training won't be easy. I was in a special operative. I trained in three main areas; stealth, close combat, and assassination." he said this in the tone in which a military general would. Strict and authoritative. "This training will be some of the most grueling labor of your life. And since I am now going to be training you, you treat me with the respect I deserve. Do I make myself clear?
Obittus saluted with his right wing and smiled, "Sir yes sir!"
And so for six years he lived with them and trained in the arts of war. Learning to catch an enemy off guard, to be silent, to hide evidence, to fight, and most importantly to remain vigilant. Fireflight trained him every afternoon from dusk till dawn, while Carrottop fed them both. Obittus of course pitched in with the money by doing odd-jobs around town. Cleaning someone's gutters, helping at the lumber mill, helping in the gardens, those among others are the things Obittus did around the town. After every job Fireflight made him give sixty-five percent of the earnings to the initial family upkeep and keep the rest for him self to handle himself when he leaves, because they know that one day he will have to leave.
"Land on your heels then move your way to your front talons! Slower! Keep in mind that you're greatest advantage is in darkness, stick to the shadows. If they can't see you, they can't kill you. Good, now unsheathe your weapon! The target doesn't know your there yet, strike!"
Obittus, now at the age of fifteen, leaped down from the rooftop that he was stalking his target from, his target being a sack of potatoes, stabbed the bag, clutch it in his right hand, and fluttered back onto the rooftop with out making any sound and hiding the sack out of view from wandering eyes.
"Very good Obi! Your progress over these past few weeks have been rather exceptional!" praised Fireflight. "Now that we've gotten that part finished out of today's training we should move on to close combat. Gather you sword, today I'm not teaching you anything new. Today we fight!"
"Fight as in, no holding back? Or just a quick spar." asked Obittus a bit shakily.
"No we fight today, of course there will be no killing but we will most likely both suffer a wound or two."
Obittus walked to his satchel to retrieve his blade, and once he had barely gotten a firm grip on it and hadn't even turned around Fireflight lunged out at him.
"Woah! I wasn't even ready yet, let me at least face you!"
"The element of surprise is a key detail to your training. Now, strike me!" Fireflight instructed as he attacked Obittus with a horizontal slash, Obittus blocked this and attacked with a parry slashing open Fireflight's vestments.
"Good. But that's not going to stop me." Again he lashed out at the trainee, this time Obittus barely dodged the attack and one of his feathers were clipped off. Obittus reacted to that with a counter of multiple attacks, Fireflight noticed what tactic he was using and held his guard. On the seventh strike he believed he would have to keep blocking but Obittus leaped into the air and came crashing down onto his opponent's skull with the hilt of his weapon.
Fireflight fell to the ground, dazed and bleeding from the attack, seemingly unable to move. Obittus then rushed to his side and tried to help him but he was tripped. He now lay on his back with a blade to his throat.
"Very good alteration of my tactic, but never trust your enemy, even if you do feel pity for him." cockily ordered Fireflight with a cheesy grin. "Next time, unless I call training off, the session is not over."
"Alright, you two. Take a break from all that and come eat." called Carrottop from the house.
They then walked inside and Carrottop saw the gash on Fireflight's head.
"Dear Sweet Celestia! What happened sweetheart?" Carrottop exclaimed as she rushed to get a wet rag. "Your training has gotten a bit out of hand Obittus! If you two are hurting each other that much you should at least use wooden weapons-"
"Darling, this wound is from the hilt of his blade." explained Fireflight.
"I don't care! If you're being hurt that badly-" started Carrottop as she was applying the rag to his skull.
"That means Obittus is getting very efficient in close combat." Fireflight interrupted. "And don't worry about me, I've suffered far worse than this." he chuckled.
"Oh... well I guess it does. So Obittus would you care to explain as to what you plan to do once you're done living here? You're not still on that insane quest to take down the Nigrum Calces are you?" probed Carrottop.
This question shook Obittus, shook him in a way no other question could because he knew the answer. Once he did leave here his life of killing would begin, and from what Fireflight told him so would the nightmares.
"I don't exactly know," he lied, "I think I'll just wander a bit." he looked at Fireflight out of the corner of his eye, in return he just nodded and went back to wiping his head with the rag which was now dabbed with blood.
"Well, that's good. I'm sure you'll meet a nice girl on your travels and settle down at some point." said Carrottop, satisfied with the answer she received she left to set the table.
"Well Obittus, once we eat, back to training. And good cover, just please never tell Carrottop what you plan to do when you're older." pleaded Fireflight.
"Don't worry I won't. Now let's eat dude, I'm starving." beckoned Obittus.
Obittus trained like this for two more years until he was seventeen years old. By this time he had learned to take out an enemy non-lethally, how to move silently, and all other things listed on the training log. As he was packing Carrottop and Fireflight walked into his room to see him off.
"Knock, knock!" Carrottop called in her cheery sunshine voice.
"Oh hey." droned Obittus. He was lost in thought about his parents and the definite life that awaited him once he reached Canterlot.
"You know, over the past few years we've come to think of you as our son and since you're leaving I just wanted you to have this." Fireflight said as he held out a Special Ops. jacket. "Princess Celestia gave it to all members of my operative."
"Oh, thanks." Obittus said taking it. "I've always liked the look of these."
"I also got you this Obi!" Carrottop said while handing him a bracelet. "It's my lucky charm bracelet! I've always worn it since my recovery from a bad harvest that was on the same day I met Fireflight. But I'm sure you'll need it more."
"Thanks, I'm sure it'll help me on my challenges." replied Obittus while he was slipping on the jacket. "If I survive being hit by a train I'll have this to thank." he chuckled as he held up the bracelet and fit it to his left wrist.
"Come now, we'll see you off." ushered Fireflight.
As the three walked down the stairs they all knew their time together would end. As Obittus turned to leave a tear rolled down his cheek.
"Damn, I'm crying." he chuckled and turned around.
"You're not the only one." Carrottop giggled as she motioned to Fireflight who at the time had long hot streams of tears rolling down his face.
"I'm not crying I swear, it's just liquid pride." he said as he was chuckled and wiped all traces of him crying from his face.
"Where have I heard that?" asked Obittus jokingly. "Anyway, I guess this is goodbye." he hadn't even noticed he was inching his way towards them. He got in arms distance and hugged Fireflight for maybe ten seconds.
"Love you, pops." he choked out.
"I love you too, Obi." he choked back in a tone he'd never used on him before.
With one last hug and look at his family he'd known for six years, Obittus then hesitantly spread his wings, gripped his satchel tighter, and took flight to Canterlot.
