Contest In Equestria

The village of Shoehorn had been transformed almost over night. Griffons began to pour in from the north at an alarming rate, marching across the barren, windswept lands in groups of fifty to one hundred every few hours. By nightfall of the second day of occupation, Shoehorn Village was a staging grounds for an invasion.

Days and nights passed as the buildings were re-purposed for the griffon's needs. The general store was emptied, houses were turned into officer's quarters and the town hall was now a command center, bustling with activity day and night.

The citizens of the town were pressed into hard labor. Even the mares and foals were set about to do work like cooking meals and cleaning up after the feathered creatures. The stallions were forced to repair and manufacture more armor and weapons for the them, most notably hundreds of protective chest plates to cover the hybrid's vulnerable chest area where their bird-like bones connected their upper halves with their more stout lower bodies. The smithy was expanded, it's walls taken out and several more forges were built to increase the amount of items that could be made and improved.

It was the task of the stallions and colts to work these forges under the ever present eye of the griffons who were in charge of them. Most notably Galrik, a large black griffon with a snow white head and beady red eyes. Savage lessons were taught in the beginning. The stallions chosen to work the forges were quickly marked with scars from Galrik's stinging and expertly wielded whip and burned by brands as they were forced to learn the ways of weapon craft that they had previously never heard of. It was in this fiery, exhastive misery that Cobalt hatched his plan.

"I'm telling you... they haven't found Stampede Pass yet." Cobalt hissed harshly to Bale who labored next to them under the ramshackle roof above their anvils as a steady drizzle dripped on them through the holes in the shingles above, confusing sweat and water on their shimmering coats. "Otherwise we'd have seen them moving their stuff to the south."

Bale ran a hoof across his forehead and pulled the drops of moisture from his hay colored head. His light brown eyes were sagging with exhaustion... everypony's were. "So what if they don't know about it, you'll never make it there with the guards watching. You're going to get yourself killed, Cobalt!"

"Somepony has to warn Equestria!" Cobalt set his hammer on the anvil where a half formed and glowing wing blade was resting, "They have no idea tha-"

"You want another lashing, scrub?!" Galrik, the smithy guard barked from his perch above and behind them where he watched over the anvils. The others kept their heads down, hammers beating on the anvils in a steady, syncopated rhythm.

Cobalt picked up his hammer again and quickly got back to work, harshly whispering to Bale; "Tomorrow morning..."

The young stallion didn't get off without a lashing or two that day. Galrik saw to that. The large, bulky griffon followed Cobalt and Bale after sundown as they plodded together towards the barn. The first crack caught him right on the flank from behind unexpectedly, causing him to shriek with pain and collapse on his side.

"You know better than to work your jaw instead of your hoof, you scrub!" he snarled from his twisted beak, the whip coming 'round again to open a fresh gash in Cobalt's side. Galrik stood over him, looking down with obvious disdain. "You done running your mouth in my shop?"

"Ah... I'm... I'm sorry sir... please!" Cobalt cried pathetically, laying on his side, two fresh runnels of blood coming from the fresh wounds, the bright red of his blood contrasting sharply on his blue coat.

"You're going to be sorry you open your mouth again! I want you at your anvil long after sunset tomorrow to make up for your slack today!"

Cobalt said nothing, instead he nodded his head against the dirt and tried to stifle the cries that pressed against the back of his throat.

They only beat you harder when you cried.

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The night was spent in agony. Cobalt's special somepony, Songbird, had applied a salve to his wounds that dimmed the pain, but didn't ease it enough for him to get comfortable. He lay on his side with his hooves wrapped around her and tried to sleep. But to no avail. Between the stinging pain and the wild thoughts of his escape, he spent the dark hours with an empty belly going over his plan.

Stampede Pass was the quickest route over through the jagged Drakenridge mountains and into Equestria. The pass was narrow and high, made impassible by the winter snows and by Cobalt's reckoning, would be choked with the white stuff very soon. The heavy, grey clouds were already hanging over that area of the peaks and had been for days now. It was a tough hike with the nearest town on the other side being Snowlock that had a mailmare post. It would take him a few long, cold and hungry days but... he had to make it.

The only problem was getting away.

The only time he wasn't under constant observation was in between checks at night and during the walk to the smith in the morning. There were griffons everywhere though. Their hulking, feathered heads with cruel looking beaks seemed to dot the town every few feet or so. He'd convinced Bale and Ringright to cause a distraction during the morning march to the smith. Either he'd live to see the treeline to the south... or he'd be dead on the bare patch of land between the town and the woods.

He had to do it in the morning. The griffons were slow and sluggish in the cold air, unable to take to their wings until well after work had started for the day and they'd gotten their blood moving. That should give him enough time to reach the dense trees that surrounded and shrouded the trail into the pass a few miles away.

"Cobalt?" Songbird's hushed and whispered voice drifted to him in the darkness from inches in front of his muzzle, "I'm scared. I... I don't want you to go."

She pressed her barrel against his own, her warmth seeped into him like a slow, spreading comfort and he hugged her tight. "I have to..." came his reluctant reply.

"I... I love you, Cobalt." her voiceless words cracked and she kissed him passionately. They'd been over this a thousand times in the last few weeks as he'd formed this idea. She'd been vehemently against it, scared for his life and safety. But she knew him too well. Once Cobalt made up his mind, it was rarely swayed.

"I love you too, Songbird" he whispered back after the kiss. Despite his pain and discomfort, his body somehow felt that this might be the last time it would be close to her... and responded accordingly.

The firm press of his member grew against her lower belly as they kissed again, pressing impatiently and seeking the warm embrace that waited for it under her dock. She sucked in a breath and whispered. "C-Cobalt... there's ponies around us."

This fact wasn't lost on him, they'd been sleeping in the barn with most of the town around them ever since the griffons came. Other couples had been stealthy about their lovemaking, taking comfort in each other during this time of oppression. Their lovemaking would be overlooked and ignored just like all the others.

He nudged again, and she let him. Lifting her rear leg up over his flank and swiveling her hips enough to align their bodies. It was with slow, exquisite, silence that he entered her. Songbird's body embracing his stallionhood with liquid-y heat and squeezing with a symmetry mirrored by her hooves around the rest of him. It was gentle and loving, each pony's movements matched by the other with silent desire and a need to feel this closeness one last time before they might part forever.

Only the steady increase in breathing and the smell of her musky fluid gave them away, the others around them knew what was happening and gave a polite ignorance in the dark while they finished. She began to cry as he felt his shaft harden inside her, the head flaring against her back wall to seal the entrance to her womb with a final, sideways sliding push as the thick warmth of his seed flowed into her most intimate crevice. They stayed locked together that way for a long time, her weeping silently into his neck until they fell asleep in the late night hour.

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The morning dawned gray and cold, the damp mist in the air clung to the edges of the buildings and swirled in visible currents of wind in the square as the ponies marched from the breakfast clearing where the griffons made them eat. Despite having fires to warm the stew that was ladled unceremoniously out, the meal cooled rapidly as Cobalt, Bale and Ringright ate.

"You guys know what to do, right?" Cobalt said as they stood up to start the walk to the smithy.

"Yeah, yeah... I just hope you get away. They're gonna whip the fur off of this for doing it." came Ringright's terse reply. His heart was already pounding in his silver furry chest.

"Remember to wait until I've reached the first furnace... they'll see me for sure otherwise." he whispered as they walked past the first group of griffons watching over them.

The rows of grey, stone furnaces came into view ahead. Squatting like the hastily made devices they were, the furnaces were large brick ovals with an open side opposite the direction they were coming from, each big enough to hold several ponies inside were their fires dowsed. They marked this side of the smithy area that was covered by the hastily made structure designed to protect the fresh steel from the dripping moisture rather than the ponies who worked the molten metal. It was the southern edge of town, and the closest you could get to the distant treeline without getting pummeled by the ever present griffons.

Cobalt quickened his pace and got to the front of the line. Galrik stood waiting between two of the already smoking, shimmering sources of heat, his wings flexing slightly to take advantage of the warmth with his ever present whip dangling around his neck like a dead brown snake. His beak turned up in a savage grin when his beady eyes locked on Cobalt's deep blue ones.

For a moment, he had second thoughts. There was no possible way he could do this. He was just barely considered a stallion, let alone some sort of gutsy hero. What was he thinking?! Just as he was about to turn around and call off his friends, the time for changing his mind was over.

A thunderous explosion tore through the air behind him suddenly as the supply building erupted in a ball of flame, lighting the surrounding area with orange light and a concussive wave of sound and heat. The griffons around them all turned and streamed towards it, moving sluggishly in the cold morning and trying to flap their wings in vane. Cobalt's adrenaline shot through his body as Galrik ran past him and towards the falling debris. He took his moment and sprinted ahead between the rough stone ovals and through the smith area then out into he open expanse of field that lay between him and freedom.

A wild sense of maddened glee took over and he began to laugh. No way had he thought the amount of fireworks the three of them had dismantled to gather the massive pile of explosive powder would produce that large of an explosion. He hoped nopony was hurt... but he also hoped it would make it easier to get away.

He darted towards the first rise nearby, hoping to gain it's other side where he'll be hidden from view. His plan was to run as fast as he can from behind this small hill, hoping that none of the griffons came around or searched immediately from a different angle. Hopefully, it would give him enough time to reach the treeline. His heart pounded, rushing blood obscured all but the sound of his hooves as they thudded dully on the hardpan earth while he raced a blue streak against the gray landscape.

He slid around the earthen rise and continued full out in a direct line away from the town with the rise behind him. Tears filled his eyes as the trees began to grow taller now and no alarm had been sounded. He never looked back as he hit the tall grass and gave it all he had in spite of the stinging pain the fresh gashes in his flank and side gave him. The tips of the haygrass whipped his barrel, leaving wetness as they went, his breath tore through his lungs like fire and he felt his stamina beginning to fade.

After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the first yearling trees, passing them with black spots in his vision and plunging into the thicker woods of tall, evergreens that brooded with each other in their cloud of pine perfume. A thick carpet of dried needles jabbed at the sensitive frogs under his hooves and his knees buckled. Unable to carry him any more, his legs gave out suddenly. Cobalt collapsed in a blue heap barely a stone's throw from the tree's edge.

He wheezed and panted, pine needle dust sucking into his open muzzle and choking him. Desperately, he coughed thick plumes of vaporous breath into the air as he fought to regain control of his body. Minutes passed and just when he began to feel like he wasn't going to die, a sound chilled his blood, causing his bowels to loosen.

"Nice try, scrub." came the growling voice of Galrik from behind him. Cobalt scrambled to his hooves and whirled, facing the exact thing he hoped he wouldn't see.

The large griffon was just touching down, his wings flexing easily in the cold air. A moment of puzzlement broke through Cobalt's fear. How the hay did he fly so early....

If it had been any other time, he would have smacked a hoof to his forehead when the answer came to him suddenly.

Of course... he thought, He stood by the furnaces all morning. His wings were well warmed up by now.

"No pony is going to hear you way out here, scrub, and I don't feel like carrying you all the way back to town. So what do you think that means?" he sneered and coiled the handle of the whip in his taloned front claw.

Cobalt's body suddenly knew what to do even if his mind didn't. He bolted for a thick tree just as the whip came up. He heard the cruel snap of the end hit the bark near his head and sent splinters into his mane. From behind the tree, he looked wildly around for something, anything that could help him. The sound of rapid steps in the needles told him Galrik was already moving his large, black frame around for a better angle. His eyes landed on a large piece of thick bark near his front hooves with a branch still stuck to it. Instinctively, he grabbed it with his muzzle and turned towards Galrik at the last second. The whip snapped against the bark like an arrow against a shield. Cobalt was practically blind now, but it was his only chance.

With a sudden shot of courage and bravery that he never knew existed in him, he charged the griffon with the knowledge that the whip was useless up close. His neck jerked back painfully when the bark shield smashed into the griffon's face, his beak poking though it and snapping a hair's distance away from the tender flesh of his own nostrils.

"Gah!" Galrik cried out, caught off guard by the sudden aggression. He wasn't expecting this young stallion to put up a fight.

Cobalt released the branch in his muzzle and whirled, lining up his rear hooves perfectly before delivering a powerful double buck kick to the griffon's chest. He heard a sickening crunching sound as the thinner, weaker bones of the bird half of his captor's body buckled and snapped inside from the devastating blow.

Galrik gurgled out a pained moan, one of his front legs no longer responding and causing him to collapse. Cobalt rushed forward to snatch the whip from his weakened grasp as he began to stagger and back pedaled away with wide, shocked eyes at what he'd done.

The bark fell away from Galrik head as he collapsed, blood already trickling from the corners of his beak as the brittle bones in his chest caused more damage from the movement. Cobalt had heard about their need for protective chest armor because of this exact reason... he'd just never though he'd ever have a chance to see the weakness first hand.

"I... it hurts..." Galrik bubbled, his breath coming in hitching gasps that sounded watery. His wings beat uselessly against the pine needle floor and his eyes took on a panicked and desperate look as the life began to leave his body.

Cobalt couldn't speak. Later, in the dark hours of his feverish, days long flight through Stampede Pass, he would replay this moment in his mind over and over again, thinking that he should have come up with something cool, tough and funny to say as he watched the griffon who had tormented him perish as a result of his own doing. But reality wasn't like that. In fact, at that moment in time...

Cobalt began to cry as the last breath of Galrik puffed out in a fragile cloud and became the first casualty of war.

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Snowlock wasn't much bigger than Shoehorn Village. But being on the south side of the Drakenridge had the advantage of it being warmer and more hospitable. Mint Leaf was already in her tree-house near the northern edge of town that late morning. The light green filly was keen on being alone, not much for hanging out with the others her age. She spent most of her time wandering the northern woods by herself and tending to her secret gardens of herbs she grew there.

It had started to get cold these last few weeks but it didn't stop her from gathering her plants every morning and then taking them to her treehouse. Well, it wasn't her tree-house... she hadn't built it. Mint had come across it one day a year or so ago while exploring and claimed it as her own. In all this time, nopony had challenged her youthful claim on the structure.

She didn't know why she gathered all these herbs she grew. She didn't even know exactly what half of them were. When her mother wasn't looking, she had taken hoof fulls of various seeds from her storehouse and brought them deep into the woods where she played. Most of them didn't sprout, but a lot of them did. She recognized some as the stuff they sprinkled on carrots and potatoes when they cooked them. Others she though might be the stuff she watched her father grind up into powders when she was sick. Mint really didn't care. She enjoyed the activity and it kept her from getting into trouble with her brothers at the same time.

The first sounds of breaking twigs and branches from the deep woods to the north caused her mane to stick up straight as she tended to the herbs in their little jars. No pony had ever been out here as far as she knew and that sounded like a pony crashing though the trees. Mint darted to the wood frame that served as a window and looked out over the forest floor several feet below her.

A blue stallion came into view. Mint's fear didn't last long when she got a good look at the state of him. He older than her, but not as old as say, her father. She could tell he was hurt or sick almost instantly. The way he carried himself just told her somehow. Her heart went out to him almost immediately and she bolted out of the tree-house, down the steps to the soft earth below.

He didn't seem to see her at first, his eyes were bloodshot and wild like he was seeing a different place than were they were. The blue earth pony stumbled towards her and coughed, collapsing partially before struggling to his hooves again with his head sagging. When he got close, she could practically feel the heat boiling from him and saw the nasty, infected gash on his side. Fever.

"H-hey! Are you ok?" Mint said in a shaky voice.

It brought the pony to a halt and his eyes fixed on her finally. He stood wobbling on jelly like legs for a moment and then uttered one word before he collapsed.

"Griffons."